My sister came to Texas and kicked my fairy "tail"!

You know how it is when you have the feeling that something’s wrong but you can’t, or won’t, figure out what it is, don’t you? That’s how I was feeling. Not good or bad. Still doing the things I knew I should be doing but things just weren’t right with me.

Then here comes Sis*.

Like the Dog Whisperer, she observed my behavior. Then Sister Whisperer that she is, she sits me down for a talk. Physically, she says to me, you don’t have cancer. But mentally, you still have it.

My eyes opened wide and I started to object and defend myself but I couldn’t. I knew instantly she was right. I still think of myself as having cancer. Of course, barely two months out of treatment, and with scans and checkups popping up every three month for the next couple of years, it’s understandable. But that’s not how I want to live the rest of my life.

I’m cancer-free. Period. No "at the moment" added.

I’m cancer-free and going to live like it!

I’m painting pretty pictures every day I possibly can.



I’m designing our new house for our new piece of land.



Maybe it’ll be a bed and breakfast. Who knows but I’m living in the future from now on. I never realized how important that is. Yes, I’m living every day fully too but without tomorrows, "every days" aren’t whole.

How are you living your life?

*Sis had great scans at MDAnderson herself. Her lung tumors are almost gone. She’ll remain on this current chemo, which seems to be working miracles, for another four month, then she’ll come down from Denver for more scans…and hopefully, won’t have to kick my fairy "tail" again.

Love – and I do love you all,

Untitled!

Last Friday was my cancerversary. Exactly one year ago I found a lump in my left breast, which, needless to say, is no longer with me. Lefty is now being stored in a back room of MDAnderson Cancer Center, on a lower shelf somewhere, I’m sure.

Coincidentally - or maybe not - the last of my treatments (radiation) finished up last Tuesday. The complete cancer adventure took one whole year, a year with few highs and lots of lows. How working women or women with small children get through cancer treatment amazes me. They have my utmost respect.

But on the encouraging side, the whole thing is doable. It might not be fun. There might be other things one wants to do with that year, but cancer treatment is a demanding mistress and one must give it its due and then get on with life.

For me, I now wait six months (at least) for that area to heal so I can have breast reconstruction (or not. That decision doesn’t have to be made at the moment) or, at least, some scar repair and possibly the other boob removed. I’m weighing my options. My three-month tests all looked good. I’ll do them - and more - all over again in October.

Right now I’m feeling good and building up my strength again. Juan-and-Only and I walked to the neighborhood Wings ‘n More tonight, had dinner, and walked home. A big deal for me. Don’t know if the exercise worked off the good, greasy meal but it felt good to walk in the Texas heat.

I also want you all to know how much your support and prayers have meant to me and Juan. If I didn’t respond to your email or comment, I was probably overwhelmed at that moment and once I got behind in correspondence, the situation just overwhelmed me more! Forgive me and know that I valued the communication.

Love,

Baby Emery update plus an update on The Texas Woman

All your prayers for Baby Emery have been answered. Thank you very much!

Emery, who was diagnosed with cancer at the tender age of six weeks (she's now 4 1/2 months old), had surgery yesterday morning at Texas Children Hospital. The chemo had knocked the tumor back quite a bit and the successful surgery by wonderful doctors took out the rest. She'll be going home soon to start life anew with her grateful and attentive parents.

As for the Texas Woman, her pathology report indicated radiation treatment is her next step, not surgery for the other breast. I move to Houston and start treatment May 24.

Without radiation, chances of cancer not reoccurring are 90%. With radiation, 96%. Now that doesn't sound like much of a difference; but when you break that down mathematically, it's a 1 in 10 chance of reoccurring versus a 1 in 25 chance. Radiation cuts my chance of reoccurring by 60%! That's big. Huge, in fact, so I'm taking radiation!

Guess I'll be leaning to the right for about a year...like what else is new!

Totally Tasteless Tuesday and Surgery Update!

Surgery Update
Surgery yesterday afternoon went well. Not much pain at all. Home (well, back in the RV) already this morning. Another step behind me on this journey!

De-Boob Job Monday!

Monday is part one of my breast cancer project conclusion. The left beauty will go on that day.

April Fools!

No more beautiful aspirin on the left knee for me after Monday!

Silly. Did you really think those shadows were my boobies?

Right mastectomy (part two) late in April, hopefully. Have to see what the pathology reports says first.

Wish me and my knees luck!

Fun with a chemo-head shadow

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

Totally Tasteless Tuesday Thank You

This post is not for just everybody…it’s only for YOU! You who have supported and encouraged me since I discovered triple negative cancer in my left breast eight months ago.

The things you’ve done have meant so much, like your:

• blog comments and blog mentions
• emails
• cards and e-cards
• presents (like Demanda Jr.'s boobie cookies!)
• food
• phone calls
• and the sharing of your own struggles with cancer.

Everything you’ve done for me, Juan In A Million, and our wonderful children.

I still have several months to go in this fight but I didn’t want to wait any longer to say thank you and to say that I love you all. I wanted to say it now. So…

THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU ALL!!!

Will my old, ratty bras make it to my mastectomy?

or

So you thought I had floated away on a current of chemo!

I rang the bell at MDAnderson!

Then I rang it again just to make sure God heard it! Ya see, the bell is there for us chemo patients to ring after our last treatment and my last chemo was February 19th. Hooray for me!


I was so deliriously happy to ring the bell that I forgot about all the chemo things I’d been through in the last six months, all the cancer things I’ll be going through in the future, and the disgusting fact that triple negative breast cancer has a bad reputation for reoccurring.

I was totally in denial as I happily rang the bell.

And the best way to deal with being in denial is to deny you are in denial. At least that’s how I deal with life. That’s how I’ve lived the last half of year being balder than my husband Juan Very Bald Man.

The denial euphoria lasted until yesterday when I had an appointment with my oncology surgeon. I go under the knife for tit removal March 29.

Ain’t no denying that!

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

Funny the games you become addicted too!

I just can't seem to grab two boobs that match!

Meet Sweet Baby Emery

Hi. My name is Emery.


I wanted to show you how cute I am before I tell you my story.



Some day this picture will embarrass me but it's OK for now.

Here's my story.

I'm six-weeks old and the baby girl cousin of Juan and Texas Woman. I live in Amarillo, Texas, but the other day I was life-flighted to Texas Children's Hospital in Houston because - and you won't believe this - I have cancer. The tumor is pressing on my spine and attached to my lungs.

Last night I had a port placed in me and I had my first treatment of chemotherapy. I probably need at least one more treatment. The doctors are trying to shrink the tumor away from my spine to make the operation easier.

So I'm here asking you a favor. When you send up prayers for The Texas Woman, could you add my name next to hers? It's just a little name.

Love,

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

Painless implants on the cheap.
Sign up NOW!

After looking at all the implants available (iTit, etc), I've finally decided on this inexpensive, one-size-fits-all, painless set of new breasts.


Apparently you get three sets for the price of one so anyone who wants to sign up with me, just let me know!

A Christmas Story - NOT!

Our little dog Joey is a revenge shitter. When things don’t go his way, he pops a poop.


For example, when Juan-in-a-Million and I want some alone time, we lock the dogs out of the bedroom. For a while Joey protests as loudly as he can but ultimately he gets even with a pile of pooh – not close enough to the door to step into but strategically placed so that it’s the first thing you see when you walk out of the room.

Juan-and-Only says that calling Joey a revenge shitter is a little strongly put. He prefers the terms Joey the Pooh or The Turdinator. Whichever, they all adequately describe the little fellow in language that tickles pre-teen boys.

The only reason I bring up Joey’s bad behavior this time of year is that I expect a lot of protest poop this season. Ya see, Juan-of-a-Kind and I have decided not to buy Christmas presents this year – for anybody! Not each other. Not the children. Not the grandchild. Not even the dear little doggies!

Considering my current situation, we just want the focus of the holiday to be on our love for each other, our love for the children and grandchild, and, of course, our love for our fur-children.

Hmmmm. There might be more protest poop under our Christmas tree than just Joey's!

P.S. I have completed my 12 Taxol chemo treatments and am currently on a two-week break before starting my FAC chemo. I should be done with FAC by mid February. After a month-long break, I'll have my big operation, followed by radiation. Thanks to all of you for your support. It's meant so much to me. Love and hugs, Cher

Apple's new iTit, a must-have for breast cancer reconstruction!

Apple announced today that it has developed a breast implant that can store and play music. The iTit will cost from $499 to $699, depending on cup and speaker size. This is considered a major breast reconstruction breakthrough because women are always complaining about men staring at their breasts and not listening to them.

Local benefit for Paper Cowgirl!

If you live in or near the Bryan/College Station area and are planning to eat Thursday, help out fellow blogger Tina Wright (Glue on my fingers, paint in my hair; Paper Cowgirl) and get your eats here.

A dinner and silent auction

benefiting Tina Wright and Stan Kistler

will be held

Thursday, October 29,

4-8 pm

at the Wellborn Community Center

on Wellborn Rd. in Wellborn, Texas.

Proceeds go towards the cost of cancer surgery and treatments. Tickets are $8 per person and may be purchased at the door the day of the event or in advance at Changes Hair Salon, Independence Harley Davidson, and the First Baptist Church of College Station.

For more information or to make a cash or auction donation, please contact Faye Lane 979-680-1025 or email elliefae@gmail.com. The event is sponsored by the Brazos de Dios Harley Owners Group.

I hope to see ya there!

Unluckyb@$!@#d!

Hubby Juan Luckybastard is considering changing his name. Apparently, he isn't feeling that the next few weeks will be his luckiest.

Ya see, I had a little surgery at MDAnderson Friday that installed a Power Port into my chest. This will make chemo infusions much easier and is the only way to handle the upcoming harsher chemos.

The port is placed below the collarbone under the skin. Tubing from the port is tunneled upwards towards another incision which is made to help thread the tubing downward into the jugular vein. The whole procedure takes about an hour, following an hour of prep with an antibiotic transfusion. It takes about hour in the recovery room after the operation.

Cute cowboy boot slippers from Joan that I wore in the hospital!

No biggie, really. I had a fairly comfortable night in a propped up position in our fifth wheel travel trailer. A small amount of pain in the morning saw me taking a pain med. If we'd been home, I could have done without it but we had to drive our rig home and that's a bumpy ride after a surgical procedure.

So what does all this have to do with Juan wanting to change his last name to Unluckybastard? Well, postoperative instructions for him were MUCH longer than the ones for me.

My list only stated that for two weeks I cannot lift my arm above my head or straight out to the front or side. I cannot lift over 20 lbs. I cannot drive.

Here's Juan list for the next two six weeks :

• Juan shall do all incision dressing changes.
  
• Juan shall drive me wherever I want to go.
  
• Juan shall do all grocery shopping as well as the putting away of said vittles.
  
• Juan shall do all vacuuming, laundry, and ironing.
  
• Juan shall empty dishwasher (it involves putting dishes away over my head).
  
• Juan shall change bed linens.
  
• Juan shall unload travel trailer (and load, if need be).
  
• Juan shall continue to work to support me in the manner I have become accustomed to.
  
• Juan shall continue to visit and monitor his mother's care and feeding.
  
• Juan shall continue with all of his usual chores around the house.
  
• And, in his spare time - if there is any - Juan may gather with his male friends and fly his precious remote control airplanes.

I think you get the drift of the proposed name change.

And, of course, Juan shall do all this while putting up with my chemo treatment aftereffects. Just so he understands what he's in for during the week, I've renamed the days.

Chemo Friday, of course, is the day we travel to Houston for treatment.
Steroid Saturday is definitely a good day for me. If I plan on doing anything at all during the week, that's the day to gitter done! Of course, I'm a little chatty on Steroid Saturday, usually starting at 5 a.m. and continuing until bedtime.
Sucky Sunday, when the steroids have worn off, starts the downward slide into Chemoville.
Mattress Monday is a very tired day for me. The dogs and I sleep in every room of the house.
Flu Tuesday is full of achy muscles and fatigue.
Wild Card Wednesday can be good, can be bad. It's a wild card kind of day, all right.
Thrilling Thursday is the closest day to feeling back to normal for me...most of the time.
And then we're back to Chemo Friday, starting my week - and his - all over again!

Poor Juan. Poor, poor Juan.

Honey, does this mastectomy make my chest look flat?

Since I haven't had THE operation yet, I don't have the flat chest situation, but I can see my body changing since I started chemo.

My taste buds have gone on strike so you'd think I'd be losing weight, but I seem to be ounce-ing upwards and inching outwards. MDAnderson weighs me in stones, I think, so it's hard to tell what my actual weight is, but even with chemo brain I can tell a big stone from a little pebble! If there was ever a time to eat healthy and control portions, this is it, but so many foods are dead to me due to my compromised immune system (e.g. fresh, uncooked fruits and vegetable that don't have thick, peelable skins) and my delicate tummy (e.g. spicy foods).

On the up side the doctor recommends white bread to control nausea. Finally, I can legally eat white bread again. Just don't let all those people in my water aerobic classes whom I've told to not eat "white" know!

Then there are my arms. The chemo nurse diagnosed a Taxol rash among the freckles and liver spots. She declared that I was lucky it hadn't spread to my face yet. I declared her evil for even mentioning a face rash in the same room with me. Doesn't she know how things like that can jump out of someone's brain and become fact?

Anyway, I emailed my chemo doc about the rash (you know how those teenagers love to text and email!) and THREE minutes later (I kid you not here, Juan as my witness) she replied from her berry thing. I told you she was young!

Before chemo I took an occasional aspirin or equivalent, but now I have prescription meds for the rash, prescription meds to poop, prescription meds to not poop, prescription meds for nausea, prescription meds for...well, TMI but you get the not-so-prettty picture. I keep them all in a big bowl on the counter where they're handy to gather up because every three weeks the chemo doc calls an ally-ally-oxen-free, and I have to haul them to MDAnderson in there original containers so she can review them with me. If you're above a certain age, you know what "ally-ally-oxen-free" means. If not, look it up on the Internet with that little berry thing of yours.

We won't mention hair loss again except to say that the stubble on my shaved head down to the hair between my toes is clearing out faster than the Houston HOV Lane in rush hour traffic, which is pretty dern fast. We use it every Friday night to get clear of the big city, and it saves us almost an hour's time.

But since my main tumor (the largest and only one I can feel) has changed in texture and drastically lessened in size and shape, the news is all good. I feel so lucky, in fact, that I'm going out and buy lotto tickets today!

Lookin' like Juan!

I said it before and I'll say it again...the longer a couple stays together the more they look alike!

Don't believe me? Then take a look at my portrait with hubby Juan Luckybastard, taken just last Friday evening. I think we look strikingly alike, don't you? From the tops of our little bald heads to the tips of our mustache, our image shows what a healthy, happy marriage we have.


OK, I'm callin' bulls*!t on myself. Don't get me wrong, we are a happily married couple. And I do usually have a mustache. And he does wear glasses (just not those pink ones!). But the haircut itself is just more fun with chemo!

The truth about my lost hair is that when the chemo doc asked me Friday if I had started losing my hair yet, I answered no as I ran my fingers through my Mohawk. Lo and behold, I came away with a fistful of hair. Even the doctor laughed at the timing of the first fallout.

So when we got home from MDAnderson that night, Juan took the dog clippers to my thinning Mohawk and gave me HIS hairdo. The free photo-altering software GIMP did the rest.

Actual good-looking couple.

By the end of the evening, I was completely shaven bald.


I don't know what it says about me but I actually like it.

And when we take our nightly walks, cars veer away as their headlights reflect on our naked domes and they think we're an oncoming car!

Thank you, The Domestic Fringe, for today's Party in Pink supporting breast cancer survivors and battlers! You and your followers rock!

My hair is gone!

The semi-true poem about my baldness.

I misplaced my hair today.
I can’t find it anywhere.
I searched for it on Ebay.
But, alas, it wasn’t there.

It wasn’t on my pillow.
It wasn’t on the floor.
It wasn’t on my towel,
Nor hanging on the door.

It wasn’t on hubby’s head.
That I would have noted,
His own hair long ago fled
Leaving his poor dome uncoated.

I saw it in the mirror
When I first got out of bed.
But I swear I won't shed a tear
Ov’r what used to top my head.

It was the perfect Mohawk.
So easy to maintain.
It made people stop and gawk
But I loved it just the same.

I knew the hair had to go.
That’s what the doctors said.
After so much Chemo,
I thought it might turn red.

But it didn’t. It just fell out
Before I ate my lunch.
Finding it I had my doubt
But then I got a hunch

After all my searching
In every cubby hole,
I found my hair amid the bling
On my little doggie Joe.

The end
(of my hair for now)

Bald photos coming soon to this blog!

Photo album of a chemo cut!

The cast of characters:

back row: Hat Dude, C-Bear, Code Woman, and Kid Coffee
front row: The Texas Woman and Juan Luckybastard

Before

The first haircut!

The second haircut!

Everybody gets to help!

OMG! What are they doing to me?

I kinda like the ponytails!

Ya know you look pathetic when the grandson gives you sympathy!

First look!

Back view. Note famous butt in background!
Kinda similar, ain't they?

Side view!

Mother/son matching Mohawks!

YOU made me do it!

YOU went along with the idea!

After

The toned down version awaiting fallout!

One chemo treatment down
and fifteen to go.

I'm kicking tumor butt now!