...this one goes to eleven....

(Apologies to the wonderful and talented writers behind This Is Spinal Tap :  Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, Harry Shearer, and Rob Reiner. )

 I am quite happy to have made this milestone.

Still not dead!  Very exited about that.  


Also no surgeries or procedures or the like for an entire year!  It's a record!   



If you don't recognize the title of the movie above, look it up.
Also, maybe, ya know....watch it.

Whoopsie!

Hi there!

Brief update:  I'm not dead.



Slightly longer update:
One surgery, a whole bunch of "procedures", and I'm pretty much OK.  In fact, some parts of me are better than they have been in years!

I still have lots of visits with medical professionals and lots of tests.  I've added two more specialists to my medical team.  They are very nice. 

I hate going to see them.

Seven

Guess what?

It's been another year!

One more year of sunsets.  There were sunrises too, but most people who really know me will tell you I'm not much of a morning person, so I only saw 3 or 4 actual sunrises this year.

One more year with my family.  One more year with my friends. 


One more year of laundry, of dishes, of yard work.  One more year of driving, of appointments, tests and surgeries.

I didn't say the *whole* year was sunshine and rainbows.

But you know what?  Don't care.

I lived it.

Lived it all.

Still Here!

My but time does fly.  The months have whizzed past.  I've been busy.  Kinda.

Since I last posted, I've had a couple surgeries and a bunch of procedures.  I'm healing nicely for the most part.

I've memorized the 5 signs of infection, in English and in Latin.  Because my principle surgeon has a sense of humor, that's why.  Also because prevention is so much nicer than treating. For everybody.

I've been fortunate to once again have a nice team of medical professionals looking after me.  They are lovely people.  Dedicated.  Kind.  Funny.  Great taste in music.  I don't want to see them anymore.

But I have to, because I'm not done yet.  Another 3 things to go (assuming this last one heals well), and I should be all done.  Except for regularly scheduled checkups.


And for anyone who cares, the 5 signs of infection are:

heat
swelling
redness
pain
discharge

Cancer Scares

There's this thing that happens once you've had cancer.  You become more aware of the little things.  Not just things like the chirping of birds, or the way rain smells.  Things like how different parts of your body feel.  What things generally look like.  You become very aware of things that are out of the ordinary, for you. 

In my case, when something seems a little not-quite-right, I hear Jeff Goldblum saying "Are...are we worrying?  I...I mean....is....is this....OK?

Every cancer survivor I've spoken to has had a scare.  At least one. 
The sinking "something's a little off" feeling is one thing.   It is easy enough to deal with - you talk to a medical professional and you get it sorted out, right?  Done and done. 

But it's not that easy for everyone.  You may think you are imaging things.  Or that you are perhaps over reacting.  Or that you have become a hypochondriac.  Or that you can't run to the doctor for every little thing; you really need to man-up.  Or that your family can't take the stress of having to deal with cancer again.  Or that you can't take the stress of having to deal with cancer again.

So you wait.  For a sign that it's definitely something.  Or definitely nothing.

And you feel like an idiot for waiting.  You feel bad about being scared.  You are supposed to be tough, right?  You beat this thing once, right?  So maybe you go see that medical professional. Or, maybe you wait some more.  It's the cat in the box again.  You are both fine and very much not fine until the test results are in.

So, why am I telling you all this?

Because I had a scare. 

I've had more than one so far, but this one was bad.  Waiting for the biopsy results was rough. 

And you know what?  It's not cancer.  It's serious, and there will be surgeries ahead (I've already had one), but I will deal with it.  Because it's not cancer. 

Now, I have a very, very dear friend who waited.  And it was cancer.  And her journey was not an easy one.  She's still here.  She's doing great.  The thought of what she went through got me to see a medical professional when I noticed something wrong.  That, plus I'd eventually have to tell her, either way, and she can (and will) kick my sorry butt. 

So, how do you know if cancer has come back?  How do you know if it's going to be OK? 

You don't. 
You have to pick up the phone.  You have to call your doctor.  You have to check. 

Six

Six years ago, I received the worst news ever.

I had two small children.  One loving husband.  A father who'd already lost my mother to the same, horrible disease.

I am still here.

I was very, very fortunate.

I had an amazing team.  I don't just mean the doctors.  My nurses were fantastic.  The other floor staff were excellent.  My doctors' office staff (primary, specialist and surgeon) were all very determined.  There were people of many faiths who prayed for me.  People who brought food for my family.  People who watched the children for us.  People who helped in so many ways.

Without all of their help, things could have gone very differently.

I am still here.

Like many in the Survivor's Club, I am vigilant.  If something is not quite right with my health, I don't ignore it.  I get poked and prodded regularly.  I don't mind.  I don't want it to come back.  

In the spirit of helpfulness...

I read Weighty Matters.  Not every day, but often. 

Today Dr. Freedhoff posted a plea.  A doctoral student is conducting a survey on spousal sabotage of weight loss programs.  She has a brief, anonymous survey to collect data for her dissertation, but needs just a few more participants.

I have a soft place in my heart for doctoral students.

The details  of the study can be found here, along with a link to the survey itself. 

Please take a look.  Maybe you can help.