Never-ending birthday

My cancer was diagnosed when I was 54. As of last week, I have now reached the ripe old age of 57. I'm still cancer-free, as far as I know. This, my friends, is FABULOUS!

"The older, the better" is my new motto, and age, I'm tellin' ya, is truly a state of mind. How old do you feel? OK, that's your true age. Do not worry about the number because the higher it is, the more years you have to make a difference in this old world. So, rock on ... and on ... and on ... and on, brothers and sisters!

This year my birthday is rockin' on and on. It started on my birthday eve (Nov. 3), when my saintly sister treated me to lunch, the funniest b-day card ever, some dark chocolate and a Starbucks gift card. Then we browsed the U City "Loop" on a beautiful afternoon and she bought me yet another gift that we found in an offbeat shop: a beautiful scarf (see photo of Hannah and me, wearing said scarf and showing off cake!).

The next day (Nov. 4), my actual b-day, I got an awesome card from my co-workers with so many nice sentiments I think I'll keep it on my desk all year long so I can read it over and over! Then, when I got home from work, Hannah had baked me a chocolate cake and there were gifts from her and Jim: a bottle of cabernet, a balloon, a card, two stemless wine glasses and some perfume I'd been wanting. Then, dinner at Outback, then we all watched a rented movie that turned out to be pretty stressful -- "Frozen," the story of three friends who get stuck on a ski lift in a storm for days. No one knows they're there, they have no phone, and all these horrible things keep happening. Trust me. Stressful.

Then, on Friday (Nov. 5), Dylan drove home from Columbia, so the four of us went out to dinner again -- to Macaroni Grill! It was an extremely fun night!

Now I'm looking forward to Wednesday (Nov. 10), when I'm flying down to my home-away-from-home, Venice, Fla., to help my saintly Psycho Sister celebrate HER birthday -- and mine again, ha! I'm staying four glorious days and it had better be sunny!

So, yeah, life is definitely a beach and birthday celebrations never really have to end, do they?

Until next time ...
P

Spooky stuff

It's Halloween -- and "Reformation Day," for you Lutherans -- so here's hoping you have a good one! I've had my pumpkin for a couple of weeks now, sitting on the front porch, and so far (I haven't checked today) no one's stolen it or smashed it in the street, so yay for crime-free Ballwin, Mo.! I'll be carving it later today, and putting in the candle, and getting the candy ready for the evening's spooky visitors. (And pouring a glass of wine for me.)

Hopefully, we'll have more than the FIVE kids we had last year ... (In previous years, we've had as many as 80! But lately the houses around mine don't participate -- instead, they turn their lights -- and hearts -- off. Sigh. So I guess that doesn't draw too many kids.)

Anyway, this year I am MAKING the trick-or-treaters tell me a joke (heck, WE had to do it when I was growing up!), but I will refrain from being a mean old witch. Instead, if they don't have a joke I'm going to GIVE them one that they can use all night, and maybe even next year! Here's a sample: "Why did the ghost go to the bar?" Answer: "To get BOOOOOZE!" Cute, huh? Or maybe it's too crude for little kids. Don't worry, I've got others. "Do zombies eat popcorn with their fingers?" Answer: "No, they eat their fingers separately!"

OK, OK, I'll keep my day job.

In keeping with the spirit of Halloween, I've been reading this sort of spooky book: Visions, Trips, and Crowded Rooms -- Who and What You See Before You Die, by David Kessler, who actually worked with Elisabeth Kubler Ross (no relation), the dying/grief expert.

In the book, Kessler interviews lots of people -- medical professionals, such as doctors and nurses, as well as regular folks. All of them, however, have witnessed so-called "death-bed visions." That means they were in the room with a dying person who saw -- and conversed with -- a dead relative or friend. (Only the dying person can see and talk to this "vision." But those who have been there say this doesn't seem to be induced by drugs -- they were convinced the dying person actually saw one or more dead people. Right there. In the room.)

Often it's the dying person's deceased mother who comes to visit, and apparently accompany her child to heaven. After this experience, the dying person usually dies within hours or days. And they die happy because their dead loved one has reassured them that the afterlife is simply wonderful and death is nothing to fear. Wow.

Sometimes there's a whole roomful of dead people visiting. A friend told me that her dying grandmother saw her dead sister, mother, the friend's brother, and said "they brought the babies" -- this dying grandmother had lost three babies in infancy many years before. Whoa.

The author, Kessler, says he was in the room when his father was dying. His father had been depressed and sad about his situation until he had a visit from his dead wife -- Kessler's mother -- who transformed his demeanor "from a hopeless dying man with only death in front of him to a hopeful man who was going to be reunited with the love of his life." Kessler says these experiences challenge the idea that we die alone, and asks, "What if the journey at the end of life is not a lonely path into eternity, but rather an incredible reunion with those we have loved and lost?"

I'm really not obsessed with death. But I've gotta say, this book is a pretty fascinating look at life and death, and the things that are still a mystery to us.

Until next time ...
P

Fraidy-cat

So, what is my problem? Every time I have a check-up with one of my cancer doctors, I get all nervous about it. Like, days ahead of time.

Maybe it's normal for someone who had Stage 3 cancer like me, to never quite feel like they're out of the woods. For good.

Or, maybe I'm just a weenie who remembers what it was like every time I came to the Siteman Center for my chemo. It really wasn't horrible, but it wasn't exactly fun, either. It was something I had to do in order to enjoy the cancer-free days I'm enjoying now. (OK, full disclosure: Sometimes it was fun!)

But, whenever anything reminds me of it, I get this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I guess that feeling was with me for an entire year while I was going through chemo and radiation, surgery, and more chemo. The feeling that I don't know what lies ahead.

My husband, Jim, made a music CD for me back when I was going through treatment. At the time, I enjoyed it a lot. The other day I tried to listen to it in my car and it brought back all of the angst I felt back then. Very unsettling. I had to take it out of the CD player. Don't know if I'll ever listen to it again.

Anyway, all of this is to say that today I had a check-up with Dr. K, my cancer maintenance guy. Everything is fine, truly, but boy was I nervous! It's just that I'm enjoying the heck out of being "normal." And I don't want to go back to being a "cancer patient."

I asked him about curing cancer in someone like me. Does he have other patients who've made it long-term? He smiled and said, "Lots of them. Colorectal cancer is very curable." Ahh. Just what I wanted to hear, doc.

Until next time ...
P

P.S. I decided to post a photo of the scar on my wrist, just because.

Plates and screws (oh my!)

OK, it's actually just one metal plate, but several screws, that are now permanently implanted in my left wrist! (See cool photos of the X-rays with this blog post!)

So, yes, the cast and splint are off and now my two-inch scar is really visible on the wrist (see next blog update for THAT photo!) and it's really, um, not too attractive ... In fact, I wonder if salespeople and others who don't know me see that long red line on my wrist and think I tried to commit suicide or something ...

But the bone is healing and I've now been officially released by the surgeon and the rehab people with "no restrictions" (Note to self: Be careful for the rest of your life!) so things are finally getting back to normal.

Well, sort of. The wrist is still pretty weak -- even though I'm using it. But it will be months and months before it's as strong as it once was. And that's OK! Because I don't have cancer! (See previous post.)

Speaking of the Big C, my next check-up with Dr. K, the maintenance guy, is in mid-October. Meanwhile, I'm feeling fine and life is good, so no complaints!

Hope all is well your way, too!

Until next time ...
P

Clear scan, baby!

YES!!! So, once again, the CT scan was all clear -- NO CANCER! -- so I am relieved and happy beyond belief and hopeful for the future and so very, very thankful to God and everyone who prayed on my behalf! Whew, this is absolutely awesome!

So, Thursday morning, I get my blood taken, get called into the exam room, sit there for probably 20 minutes, and I'm playing blackjack on my iPhone, and I'm winning big, and then I start losing and I'm wondering if that's foreshadowing of what Dr. W-G will have to tell me ... Will it be bad news? Is it taking so long for her to come in because she's trying to figure out a way to let me down gently?

So then she comes in and we chat a couple of minutes, and then she starts asking me how I broke my wrist, and I tell her, and then she asks if my hips or legs have been sore, and I (freaking out inside!) say no, not at all, in fact, I've been walking my 2 to 4 miles every day, no problem ...

And then she says those beautiful words "the scan is clear -- no cancer" and adds a "but" and my heart starts beating wildly again, and she adds that the scan shows a tiny fracture in my left pelvic bone! So, yeah, apparently I broke that, too, when I fell June 1 in Florida! Which doesn't surprise me at all, since I fell hard on that pavement! And I do recall having a sore hip for awhile back then ...

But at this point it's already healing and since it doesn't hurt at all, we're not worrying about it! But she advised me to get a bone-density test, which I've recently had -- and yes, my primary-care doc has already said he wants me to start taking Boniva, sheesh! -- so I guess that's what I'll do ...

Until next time ...
P

Scan time

Wow, here it is Aug. 1! Time sure flies! And now it's time for another CT scan, just to make sure all is as well as it appears to be ...

The scan is scheduled for bright and early Tuesday morning, Aug. 3, and then I'll get blood work and see Dr. W-G, my oncologist, on Thursday, Aug. 5.

I remember getting my first post-treatment scan, last fall, and thinking, as I drove to the doctor for the report, "This will either be the best day of my life or the worst." I'm sure I'll still be nervous about this one, but maybe not as much as that first time, when you're wondering if a year's worth of treatment actually worked ...

The thing is, I know the cancer could come back. But every year that goes by will be a blessing -- and just maybe a little more insurance that I've escaped the "big C" forever. We'll just have to wait and see.

In the meantime, life is good! I still have some numbness in the toes (from the chemo) -- and a bit of lymphedema (swelling) in the left leg (from the lymph-node surgery) -- but that's a small price to pay for your life! And it hasn't slowed me down one bit! I'm still dealing with the broken wrist, which has slowed me down some, ha, but it's getting stronger all the time -- each week when I go to rehab, they take measurements that show my range of motion is improving! So I guess I'd better get off this computer and do my exercises (sigh) so I can keep getting better ...

Until next time ...
P

P.S. Happy anniversary to me -- it's been almost exactly a year since my treatment ended!

Bye-bye cast

Just a quick update (from beautiful downtown Houston, where I'm on a lengthy business trip): When I saw the wrist surgeon a week ago, he took a look at my arm, removed the stitches, and pronounced that all is well. He knew I was leaving for this trip the next day, so, God bless him, he did NOT put on a new cast but instead I've got a removable splint. Cool. So I can take it off for showers.

The only problem is that I'm supposed to be doing finger and wrist exercises (rehab) FOUR TO SIX TIMES A DAY, sheesh -- who's got that much time when they're working 12-to-14-hour days at an-out-of-town convention??? So I'm doing it as much as I can -- twice a day, usually -- and that'll have to do until I get outta here on Saturday.

Anyway, I'm back to typing like a maniac (with both hands) and there's no pain, so things are working out. Recovery will take six weeks or more (sigh), so I've still gotta "baby" the left hand until then.

Thanks for checking on me!

Until next time ...
P