Buh Bye, Roid!

In case you haven't heard.....I'm cancer free!!!!

5 days ago, on the 5 month anniversary of finding out my hoo hoo had been invaded by an evil monster, I found out the monster had officially been defeated.  Roid is dead.

I went in for my PET scan at 7:45 am and just hours later my doc called to give me the awesome news.

As you read in my last post, this definitely isn't the end of my journey, but it's the part of my journey I've been looking forward to the most.  Captain Obvious.  I know.

I have a lot of people to thank for all the support I've received and that will happen soon, but for now I'd like to send out a blanket Thank You to everyone who follows this blog and who has sent encouraging words.  The support - even from complete strangers - has been incredible.  Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I have an idea for those curious minds of yours.  I get asked a lot of questions about my journey.  So my next blog post is going to be a Q & A.  I want you to send me any questions you have about my diagnosis, my treatment, my recovery....anything.  You should know by now that I'm not one to hold back, so you can make the questions as personal as you'd like.  You can comment on this post, post a question on the Red Shoe Adventures Facebook page, send me a private message....whatever floats your boat!

Thank you for all your support! 

Warning: Embarrassing details inside

So here I sit.  I've just been injected with radioactive fluid that will turn me into Spider-Man.  Ok, maybe not, but the metal container it comes in makes me feel like a science experiment. Anywho, I'm lounging for the next hour until the fluid works it's way through my bloodstream.  Then I'll sit in a machine for 45 minutes and the results from that will tell my doctor whether the chemo and radiation treatments worked or not. 

It's PET scan day. 

I asked my doc yesterday to confirm that he'll call me when he gets the results.  I don't see him for another 2 weeks and I can pretty much guarantee I can't wait that long to find out what's going on.  I'm not a worrier, but I'm a tad bit anxious about where I stand in the cancer game.

Life has been kind of getting back to normal.  From talking to family and friends, I've found that everyone thinks I'm back to the same ol Lesley.  I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it!

The weeks following treatment, even though you're not physically receiving treatment, the treatment you had is still working on your body.  I'm told this is why you don't get scanned immediately after treatment ends.  When treatment is over, they pretty much send you on your way and you recover....and wait.

You know what prescription the doctors did give me after my treatment was done?  Not drugs....but sex.  Because that's just what I want to jump into after putting my lady parts through all that hell.  Awesome. Sign me up.  You know what happens if I don't "fill my prescription"? My hoo hoo closes.  Yup.  You read that right.  That's a thing.  Seriously.  Nobody wants that. 

I know you're dying for more embarrassing details and frankly that's what I'm here for....to embarrass myself.  At the last meeting with my radiation crew they gave me a gift.  The gift being a dialator.  It was like a sex toy party with every ounce of fun sucked out of it.  Like your parent giving you the sex talk and you just want to sit there with your fingers in your ears saying "lalalalala".  Yeah. Thanks.  I'll just stick that in my purse and be on my way. 

I know it sounds like it should be fun.  And, really, who doesn't want to be prescribed that?  But simply said, without going into details, it's not fun for me.  At all.  This part of the cancer game is going to be a long road.

In other news....

Turns out I have quite a bit of scar tissue that's wreaking havoc on my lower back.  I'm still trying to figure this part out.  I knew when I was done with treatment that my muscles around my lower back and abdomen (the radiation sites) just felt different.  I still can't explain it.  It feels really tight, but not just overuse/sore muscle tight.  Just different.  I started out seeing a physical therapist.  She gave me many, many stretches to do and those have been helping, but just a little. The first time she touched my lower back, she immediately told me how bad it was and said I could benefit from massage (who couldn't?). 

My next step was seeing a personal trainer.  I lost about 25 lbs during my 7 weeks of treatment.  Pretty sure it was all muscle.  I wanted to start working out again but I was a little afraid as my body felt so much different.  It was important to me that I found someone that has experience with cancer patients - that knows that my body is different.  I found her and she's kicking my butt and it's fabulous.  But we're still having issues with getting my back feeling good.  She too has said that she can feel the tightness in my back.  Unfortunately it's my way lower back that's pretty darn hard to stretch.

Sooooo my next call went to a massage therapist.  I'm still researching my options here.  When I asked my insurance company about massage therapy, they said it's not covered so....yeah.  That's next on my list of things to do.

So while from the outside it looks like I'm totally back to normal, I'm not quite there yet.  I didn't finish treatment and boom, life is perfect again.  I'll get there though.  For now, I need to just think of more embarrassing stories for you.

Oh!  Like the one where I had radiation burns so bad on my bum that they were open sores.  At one point they told me to make sure I keep the cream on it or my butt cheeks will stick together and heal that way.  While that was pretty terrifying at the time, it's a great story to hold on to and tell the grandkids someday.  And it goes over great in a bar when you're out drinking with your friends.

Speaking of drinking....we haven't really celebrated the completion of treatment yet.  I'm due for a party.  Hopefully the results from this scan will warrant a celebration as well.  And hey my birthday is coming so I'm not lacking reasons to have some fun. 

Fingers crossed for good results.  Here we go!

Out of hiding

I know, I know I kind of went into hiding there for a while, huh? To tell you the truth I went quiet for a few weeks to spare you from my crankiness. I was pretty darn miserable and I was afraid I'd only write mean things. To sum up the last few weeks of treatment: cancer f*cking sucks. And not so much the cancer, but the side effects of the treatment you're suffering through. Did you know that radiation burns you? Like leaves marks, burns you? Like need to use creams in places only babies should need creams, burns you? Reason #284 why Lesley will never be a bikini model. Throughout all this miserableness no matter what advice anyone gave me, nothing was helping. I just had to wait it out. So I did. And here I am. Burned parts and all.

The good news is I'm using less toilet paper these days....if you get my drift. The doc said to slowly introduce foods back in my diet to see what I can tolerate. I took that as go eat everything you've been craving for the last 2 months but couldn't eat (I might not be great at following directions). I just look at it as celebratory gluttony.

Because of my increased visits to the potty, I've lost a considerable amount of weight. Listen, I've been walking the fine line between being obese and overweight most my life, so normally losing 25 lbs in a matter of weeks would be cause for celebration. Losing 25 lbs from having stupid cancer mess with your insides? Not cause for celebration. This may be why when people see me now and say "You've lost so much weight! You look great!", I cringe. I know it's a gut reaction (pun not intended, but I'm keeping it) to say this to overweight people who have lost weight....I know, I've said it before too. But don't say it to normally overweight people who lost weight because they've been through 7 weeks of hell.  I'd rather be fat. Take this as a public service announcement. Please.

So what's the plan for the future, you ask? (You didn't ask, but I wasn't sure how to segway from fat talk to....anything else). It's been about 2.5 weeks since my last treatment. I meet with my oncologist in about a week and as long as everything looks as it should, I'll go for a scan in a few months and cross my fingers that Roid hasn't returned. As for the immediate future, I'll be returning to work soon. I miss interacting with adults. Being a stay at home mom while trying to rest and recover was not an easy gig. I think my kids are ready to get rid of me.

I haven't explained much to my kids about what's going on. My 5 year old just knows that mommy went to the doctor everyday and that something is wrong with her belly. Even though they didn't know, they helped me celebrate on my last day of treatment - along with my husband, my parents, my partner in crime - Aunt Jean, and 2 of my amazing friends. There is a bell in the lobby of Roswell for patients to ring on their last day of treatment. On the first day of my journey at Roswell, I took a picture of this bell. I took it so I could have it with me as something to work towards - someday I'd ring that sucker. But then in the beginning of my journey, part of me wanted to skip the bell because I thought it would be mean to other patients who had a longer journey than I did - those who wanted to ring, but couldn't. But as I progressed and met other patients, I saw how supportive of one another we were. And as I neared the end of my treatment, at my most miserable point, all I could think about was that damn bell. I would ring it for me and for my pals I waited in the radiation waiting room with - day after day. I would ring it for all the amazing staff that helped me every day. I'd ring it for my supportive family and friends. Being able to walk out of the radiation department and ring it in front of my family and friends and have everyone in the lobby cheer as I did it - Best. Feeling. Ever.

I wish I could end this lengthy post with "and that's how I beat cancer"....but I didn't...yet. I survived treatment, that's what I did. I'm so happy it's over for now. I'm not sure why I got this rare form of cervical cancer....but I did. Did it make me stronger? I'm not sure. It definitely taught me a lot. I know/have known way too many people with cancer. I can safely safe that until you go through this yourself, you just have no idea. I had no idea. 

Zap!

Forgive me for not posting last week?  Happy Belated Valentine's Day!  We didn't go out for a big dinner but I bought new underwear!  Ha!  We'll just pretend it was a normal Valentine's Day.  The woman that checked me out at the store even gave me a sneaky look and wished me a Happy Valentine's Day when I was buying them.  Sorry, lady, while I'd like to say I bought them for the holiday of love, in reality, I have to drop my pants for a group of strangers on a daily basis and something needed to be done. Romantic, eh?

Ever wonder what radiation treatment is like for a cervical cancer patient?  I walk in, drop my pants, lay on a table, and a giant machine rotates around me and zaps in just the right places.  The picture below is of my actual treatment room.  They gave me 3 tattoos around my belly (my first ink!) before I started treatment so they know where to line me up.  Then they make sure I'm in the right position using lasers and machines in the room. I have a wonderful crew that sets me up each day and gets to hit the magic buttons.  They're kind of my personal batch of super heroes.  They get to shoot the bad guy every day!  They're after you, Roid!

So this is the eve of week 5.  4 weeks complete!  Yahoo!  Yippee!  According to the current plan, tomorrow will be my last chemo treatment and I'll finish up with about 3 more weeks of radiation.  While it sounds downhill, we start a new adventure next week.  These past 4 weeks I've been receiving external radiation.  Starting next week, 1 to 2 times a week, I'll be receiving internal radiation - also known as brachytherapy.  Unlike my current quick and easy daily morning zaps, these treatments will take hours and involve me getting anesthesia - like the epidurals I had with the kiddos.  It's called internal radiation....so they're going in!  Ugh.  I'm not thrilled.  I'll let you know how it goes!

Also, in case you're keeping tabs...still not keeping any food in.  I'm looking forward to being done with treatment and being able to eat.  This is ridiculous.

"Every Party Has A Pooper....

....that's why we invited you! Party Pooper! Party Pooper!"  -Franck Eggelhoffer, Father of the Bride II

It's my blog.  I can talk about poop if I want to. 

Turns out when the blast zone of your radiation is around a good part of your digestive system, it wreaks a little havoc.  Cool.  Awesome.

So weekend #2 turned out to be a dud.  I'm 0 for 2.  Maybe the 3rd time is a charm.  Here's the deal - I like to eat.  I used to weigh over 250 lbs.  The fact that I like to eat shouldn't be a shocker.  When you have to leave a fun taco fiesta with super fun people on Saturday and then can't take part in the fun junk food festivities of Super Bowl Sunday because your stomach HATES you, it's quite disappointing.  There actually came a point in the weekend where I was talking to myself - out loud - telling myself, "Self, this will stop sucking soon. You can do this."  Luckily I listened.  It always gets better.

There also came a point in the weekend where I told my husband that I think child birth was easier than this.  I seem to keep comparing this adventure to child birth.  Maybe because it's happening "down there"? Maybe because that's the only other major trauma my body has gone through?  Who knows.  When I was pregnant the 1st time, my friend's mother told me child birth was the easiest pain to forget.  She was spot on.  Hell while it's happening, yet as soon as it's done, I wanted to sign up again.  Maybe that's why I always wanted to be a surrogate.  That dream is out the window now, but I'd sign up for that a million times if I were able to.  OK, maybe not a million, but you get the idea.

So here it is Monday again.  My 3rd chemo is done!  If all goes according to my current schedule, there should only be 2 more...but there's a possibility for more, so I'm not getting my hopes up yet.  Like the last 2 Mondays, I'm a fan of the chemicals and steroids making me feel like Superwoman.  I'm taking it easy with the chow, though.  (Not to say I didn't finish off a good chunk of my Mom's homemade apple crisp a little while ago - Thanks, Mommy)

Unfortunately there's no set formula for this.  There's no magic list of foods that will agree with what's going on in there.  I'm told it's trial and error.  Everyone reacts differently.  I'll have to think of it as an adventure within my adventure!  We'll see how this goes.  1 ticket to Blandville, please.  I'd like a window seat.

This picture was an accident. I have no idea why it changed color on me, but the awareness ribbon color for cervical cancer is teal and white.  Pretty darn cool coincidence, if you ask me.

This is stupid.

You didn't think I'd be sunshine and rainbows ALL the time, did you??  I've had some bad days. (Cue: Daniel Powter)  Friday was my official first crap day.  Here I was all excited I had finished my first full week of treatment.  Yahoo!  And then Friday afternoon I got this chill I just couldn't shake.  Uh-oh.  No good, Batman. Turns out my body was trying to tell me I had me a little infection.  By the end of the day, I had crazy chills and body aches and a fever...and it was making me feel a little looney.  To the ER I went!

You know what's fun?  Sitting in the ER waiting room trying to figure out the correct way to write that you feel looney on your registration form....without looking...well...looney.  No worries.  I got through it.  Luckily I had other symptoms haha.

So a few blood tests, an x-ray, and a good ol' cup full later, they were able to tell me I had an infection. They gave me some antibiotics and sent me on my way.  Sounds too simple for an ER visit, right?  I may have simplified. It was an ER visit so there was a lot of waiting and it took 3 or 4 hours.  Also in that time I had to convince them I wasn't pregnant and that it was safe for me to have an x-ray.  It's a golf ball size tumor, folks, not a fetus....but thanks for being concerned.  Speaking of not being pregnant, one of  the nurses at Roswell today reminded me (again) that I shouldn't be having "relations" right now.  Yup. Thanks.  Got it. No need to keep reminding me.  I'm right on top of that, Rose.

So about that infection...I got a LOT of rest over the weekend and that helped a bit.  It really knocked me on my ass.  When I met with the first doctor this morning at Roswell, she said there was a possibility they'd hold off treatment today because of the infection.  What? No No. When my oncologist came in he asked me how I felt and I just said fine.  He said, "Really fine or are you just saying fine because you don't want us to hold up your treatment?". I mean, come on. You've known me for a month now, am I that easy to read?!?  Guess so. Haha

I'm having another issue.  It's called neuropathy.  It basically feels like my fingers and toes are falling asleep.  It's awesome, really, because who actually wants to be able to feel their toes 24 hours a day.  Way overrated, right?  I'm not a fan of this.  At all.  And it could get worse.  Cool.  Ugh.

So I ended up getting my treatment today.  And I'm seeing a pattern.  Pump Lesley full of chemicals and steroids....Lesley eats like a maniac.  My wonderful aunts made me brownies.  They're wonderful - (Both my aunts and the brownies). Those chocolate goodies won't live to see tomorrow.  Yum!

Shout out to my Aunt Jean for being my pilot/aide/entertainment today. #support #amazingfamily #redshoesupport

Day 1 - One Down!

You know when you're pregnant for the first time and you subscribe to all those web sites that tell you what size fruit your baby is and what is happening to your body that particular week?  (If no, then just pretend you know what I'm talking about - or go ask a pregnant friend) Some people like to read ahead and see what size their baby will be and what their symptoms might be in the coming weeks.  I never liked to do this.  Why?  If it told me that the 3rd Tuesday of my second trimester, my left earlobe would itch at 4pm, I'd wonder if it really itched or of I just had it in my head because these crazy baby people told me it may happen. I'd rather just see what happened to me. Everyone is different. Life is an adventure!

Today I started chemo and radiation.  You know how many times the word nausea was brought up?  I could be nauseous all day every day.  I could not be nauseous at all.  As I sit here and write this, I feel completely fine....except for the impending doom of nausea.  Will I have to stop writing because I'll feel sick in 5 minutes?  Will I be sick tonight?  Will I feel ok? Will I wake up feeling like crap?  The possibilities are endless....and none are definite. While I appreciate the warning, part of me just wants to be surprised.  I know that's not a thing. Side effects are a thing.  But which ones will happen and when?!?  Life is an adventure.

Here is another issue.  I haven't had an appetite for months.  I normally like to eat.  Obviously.  It's one of my favorite hobbies. So this no appetite part sucks.  If the devil wore red Prada, I guess you could say I'm one battle with cancer away from my goal weight.  (Please find that funny.  It's funny.  I promise cancer wasn't in my original weight loss plan haha)  Aaaaanyway, today - on the last day I ever thought this would happen - my appetite mysteriously made a dramatic return.  And to celebrate, I ate enough to make up for my weeks of not eating.  Really.  I may be slightly embarrassed by the amount of food I consumed haha.  So here's the dilemma - if I get sick later....will it be because I had chemo today....or will it be because I stuffed my face like it was my last meal?  Smart move for Lesley? No, not really.  But I have stupid cancer and I get to do stupid things.  Life is an adventure. 

On another note, a shout out to a cool little dude named Ethan Franks.  His mommy was making us some meals for our freezer and he thought we needed some chocolate chip cookies.  Ethan is a super smart little boy :)

Work Family

Sometimes I have days at work that make me feel like I'm starring in an After School Special.  Today was one of those days.

I was asked by my oncologist to be his guest on AM Buffalo.  They were doing a segment about Cervical Cancer Awareness Month and he needed a patient that was willing to talk about her diagnosis. Go on live tv and talk about your hoohoo? Who would do that? I said yes.

It made it easier to say yes because I knew what I was getting in to. I work at Channel 7.  I've seen live tapings of the show.  I know Linda is a fabulous host that makes you feel like you're chatting with a friend, not being interviewed on live tv.  She's been in my shoes.  I knew I was safe.

I think I was fine and excited about my decision to do this until I walked in the studio.  I didn't know my heart could beat so fast.  Besides having to be on live tv, I was wearing adult clothes so i was uncomfortable.  'Why are you telling us this?', you ask? I had surgery last Friday.  This was the first day since then that I wasn't wearing elastic waisted comfy pants AND I was wearing high heels.  Silly me thought I should look professional on tv.  It wasn't until my coworkers started trickling into the studio and each one asked me where my red shoes were that I regretted dressing like an adult.  They know.  They're amazing. That was all it took-I needed my red shoes.

This is where the After School Special portion of my day kicked in.  Picture little Susie sitting on the sidelines at her first basketball game. Her friends bring her these red shoes and then she magically plays the best game ever as her friends cheer her on.

In real life, my entire sales team came down to the studio before the interview.  They saw I didn't have my red shoes on, so someone ran up to my desk to get them - They know how much these silly shoes mean to me. Then they all stuck around to watch their little assistant talk about having cancer on live TV. Its not just at home, from family and friends, that I have support.  I have support from these crazy kids at work and I'm super grateful.

They care.  They're not coworkers.  They're friends. They're my work family.  I'm a lucky girl.

Check out the Doc and I on AM Buffalo: http://www.wkbw.com/am-buffalo/cervical-cancer-awareness-month

And when you're done watching, call and make a Dr. appointment.  It could save your life.

Moving On Up

In preparation for my treatment, some changes needed to be made to my "real estate".  Yesterday I had a little surgery done.  The doctors want to keep my ovaries healthy.  If anything happens to them it could send me in to early menopause.  Nobody wants that. In order to save them, they needed to be moved up and out of the radiation zone.  I can't exactly explain where they're living at the moment, but they're in there and I'm hoping they're enjoying their new neighborhood.

The bad news in all of this is I'm going to have to give up my dream of being a bikini model. Between the incision scars from this surgery, the incision scars from my gall bladder surgery, and the giant scar from my c-section, I have one heck of a distorted smiley face going on on my belly. It's quite ridiculous.  Like an eight-eyed smiling monster.

I've had a few visits to Roswell so far, but this was my first big procedure.  I came in contact with so many doctors and nurses before and after my surgery. It really takes a special person to do these jobs. The picture below was taken just before I left. This is my nurse from recovery. Her name is Maureen. She was fantastic - kind, gentle, friendly. Everyone was amazing. My Dr. had a great team that day and I am very grateful.  I'm sore, but on the mend.  Glad this is out of the way now....literally.

And The Adventures Begin

On December 16th, I went to my annual checkup "down there". Like most women, I find these appointments annoying. I mean...they're kind of a hassle, they're intrusive, they're just not fun.

It was a good thing I went to my annoying appointment because 8 days later, on Christmas Eve, I was told I had cancer.  Excuse me? Me? No. This was not on my Christmas list. I'm 33. I'm fairly healthy. I ran a half marathon 3 months ago, for the love of pete. But, yes, it's true.

Now that we have the biopsy and scan results, I know I have Stage 1 Cervical Cancer. There is a golf ball size mass inhabiting my cervix.  His name is Roid, by the way. Roid is a jerk. We're not friends. Due to the size of Roid, surgical removal is not an option so I will be starting Chemotherapy and Radiation treatments in the next few weeks.

This is not the kind of adventure I envisioned for 2016, but you know what?  Bring it on, Roid. You're going down. You don't know who you're messing with.

I invite you to join me on my adventure. There's no worrying though....we got this.

I'm at Roswell today for my "quick and easy" surgery. 

Here we go.