Ducks! Get in a Row!!

Tonight I will be honorary Duckmaster at The Peabody Hotel on International Drive. That is where the Young Survival Coalition Conference for young women is taking place. Lots of planets have lined up with other fabulous people helping me and strings being pulled and then all of a sudden, they said I was named tonight's Duckmaster. Hilarious. I can't remember what happens since I haven't seen the ducks since I was a real little kid. It's a big tourist attraction and the ducks come down from the roof, I think, onto the elevator, then into the fountain in the lobby. Well, I'll tell you after tonight-ha ha.

The CT scan came back normal for my bladder and kidneys, but the urologist still wants to do the procedure where a camera is placed up my pee hole and look around, just to be safe. I'm going through so much right now that I don't want to do it. Everything has been completely resolved. I have no more blood in my urine or pain when I pee, anything. Dr. Shah says it's up to me but hold the date just in case (Mar. 28). I really do not want to do another procedure. This might be the 1st major thing they've recommended that I refuse to do or at least opt to do later if the symptoms come back.

Here's the thing...

There's a new brain tum0r that has popped up. It is only 3mm and we are going to do my 4th stereotactic radiation procedure. They no longer bolt the halo onto your head so that is good news. Bad news is I have to wear a mesh mask completely around my head and am claustrophobic. I go Monday to get fitted for the mask and meet with the social worker so I don't freak out--all while on anti-anxiety pills. Quite the adventure. I'm more worried about wearing the mask then the actual procedure at this point. What a silly, stupid girl I am. Simulation/fitting on Monday, brain radiation is Monday, March 7. Please pray for peace and no mistakes.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, holey is not healing fast enough. I met a surgeon that says it looks good but it's moving very slow. Yeah, duh. Dr. Longevine is my new surgeon and he's new to MDA and is very nice. He offered two solutions. The first is a very invasive reconstruction surgery where they take a muscle from another part of my body and put that healthy tissue in the hole and reconstruct the chest. This is not a good option for me because I would be off of chemo for at least 3 months from wash out time to recovery. Nix that.

The second option is to send me over to Florida Hospital South's wound care center. They have a hyperbaric oxygen chamber and MDA does not. This would speed up healing immensely by over oxygenating the tissues. It will be 30-40 days for 2 hours a day. That part is very daunting. Then I mistakenly looked at pics of chambers on the internet and am again freaked out for claustrophobia. Even if I'm in a big room with others, I will have to wear a mask all around my head for the 2 hours. What is it with these masks, dammit? I've been crying uncontrollably until my head kicks in and tells my heart to shut up until you at least see the damn thing.

We will go tour the facility and meet the doctors and look at the chambers next Thursday, March 3rd so hopefully I'll feel better after that. I mean, Michael Jackson, and lots of people pay lots of money for this shit. I've had some good advice on email and facebook from others about how good I will feel so I'm trying to focus on that. I'll tell you all about it later, I'm sure.

Yesterday, I had another blood transfusion. Even though I was off of chemo for a month, my hemoglobin dropped to 8.6. Ain't that a bitch?

So, I still can't get a break. But everything new that pops up it seems that God has equipped me for the fight. I can only imagine that going through all these different procedures makes me a better witness for others and helpful to those that might be scared after I conquer my own fears. Yeah, let's go with that.

Love to you all!

Laura

Now, what about my hat?

Hello Friends of Cancercopia,

I am on Vicodin as I write this, forgive me if I go astray... I mean, as Christy writes this for me, since I am currently in the rabbit hole. The pain from the disk in my neck is back with a vengeance. It's the top of my shoulders, and it hurts so bad to just sit up or when I try to reach for something or to pick anything up, that I have gone to the "Big Dogs" for pain management.

Oxycodone was a disaster yesterday and will not be used again. Forget rabbit hole, I was somehwere in the belly of the beast and could not get out for hours on end. Today was Vicodin... which was better, but still loopy. Tomorrow will be Oxycontin. I am just experimenting to try to figure out which one makes me function the most during the day.

I had a CT Scan for the urine in my blood, and will get the results later this week. I couldn't lift my arms in the machine, so they worked around it. I love all the techs and staff that I have met and developed relationships with through this pathetic bullshit. I am blessed that they are so knowledgeable and compassionate at the same time. (as I type this, Laura is saying "it's not funny, it's not funny... stupid vicodin") :)

I got the creeping crud that has been going around which everybody gets, only mine includes vomiting first and then develops into a flu like creature. I had to go to an extra doctor appt so I could get antibiotics, cause you KNOW how much I love going to the doctor more than I need to.

I went to a Bridal shower today, and I looked really cute. For a cancer patient. That's what I aspire to now. To be cute... for a cancer patient. I even matched my hat to my shirt... my hand knitted donated hat. Sometimes the people who know me look at me with worry in their eyes- don't they know how much time I spent coordinating my hat and my shirt? I wanted them to tell me how cute it was. But they just took me to the nearest chair and plopped me down and threw a blanket over me and asked me what I needed all day. It was a really nice shower.

Now, what about my hat?

I got these cute knitted caps from a friend of mine who contacted a charity. Apparently there are charities where people just knit caps for chemotherapy patients. There's this one that they sent me that is a sleeping cap that I wish I could crawl my whole body in, it's so soft and delicious. The other two have cute flowers on them, which normally isn't my style, but they are damn cute. So maybe cancer is giving me a new style. As you can see from the pages in this blog, cancer is the gift that keeps giving to me.

My new style consists of (not that I ever had any damn style before) the jeans that aren't too big from losing all the weight. I mostly pick the ones that are one or two sizes bigger. I don't know what to do with the ones that are much bigger than that. I mean, it's not like dieting where you put the fat clothes at the back of the closet, or is it? If I get rid of the bigger sizes, am I being pessimistic that I won't be normal again? That my body won't be a normal weight again? It also consists of shirts that don't look too big and try to conceal holey. I try to hide holey from the world. The world is not ready for holey.

Sometimes I accessorize. But, now that's just too much trouble. If I can match the hat I feel pretty good about myself. All this usually takes about 7 hours to do, before I finish off with a nice pair of sneakers that don't hurt my feet. I don't think I will be setting any trends for anybody soon.

Love you all!!