I've been staring at this blank page for about 10 minutes.
I went to the doctor on Tuesday with Tim and Dad. It was quite informative. I found out a bit more about that ugly blog than I needed to! Chris got a few phone calls about it. That was a bit shocking. I'm choosing to not be mad. But really, can't I just have terribly horrible reactions to terrible horrible news without freaking everyone out?
Something you should know: those feelings I had are the same feelings I have had several times. I was definitely more mad this time, but there was a wrench thrown at me. Sheesh. I'm not suicidal, and I'm not loosing my faith, and I'm not refusing treatment. I so hope that is not what you took from that. It really was sheer venting. It's serious venting I know. Hard to read and understand and know a friend is going thru that. I get it. But I should have thought that one thru (add it to the list) and not posted it.
Why the single agent Avastin makes me so happy is because of the possibility that it could work and I won't have to do chemo. Wednesday is my first treatment. I also know that the reality is that chemo will be a part of this... But I get a month or two off. The irony: 2 more months puts me closer to graduation, baseball.... so I'm not sure what's better. HA! Good things I sorta have a sense of humor right now. Avastin it is, don't want you confused!
Avastin is the medicine I was on during my first fight, the study drug I called it. It is known to stop the oxygen flow to ovarian cancer cells, so they can't live. It's not a guarantee of course, but it is certainly why I had a 2 year remission after the first fight. I am hopeful, even tho I said I wouldn't hope again. I feel it is a bit of hope wrapped up in a yucky infusion bag, causing tiredness, crazy mouth stuff and my super sexy crackly voice. However, hair stays, nausea very uncommon, and normal life possible. So now you know what it does inside of me.
So I am trusting God. I do know there is a plan. I do know there is much left to learn, part of which is probably how to handle bad news better!
Love to you all. Keep praying, specifically that the Avastin will work. We won't need any help as it isn't disabling at all. Thanks for understanding and knowing that I do want you to go thru this again with me, if you'd like.
Vicki
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
The Ugly Journal
Now I think you all understand why I have a journal called the Ugly journal. Some things just don't need to be shared. Partly because they are feelings based and feelings change suddenly and often.
Today a teenager got me motivated. Yep, one of those teenagers. He isn't mine, but he's pretty special. Simple words... you've done it before and you can do it again. And snap- that was it.
So, I wish I wouldn't have shared what should have been reserved for the ugly journal. I'm sorry for that. I have to admit that it really helped tho. Alone is not how I do life, and you all know that. Alone would be so unmotivating and unhealthy for my recovery-even the 4th recovery. And while I know I have said often that this could be the way the rest of my life is lived (and can be lived at length) that doesn't mean I was really ready for it. The timing is really bad. Senior in HS, a lovely exchange student, boys who are about to start baseball.... However, now is better than spring or summer that is for sure.
Onward we go. I'm getting ready.
Lots of love,
Vicki
Today a teenager got me motivated. Yep, one of those teenagers. He isn't mine, but he's pretty special. Simple words... you've done it before and you can do it again. And snap- that was it.
So, I wish I wouldn't have shared what should have been reserved for the ugly journal. I'm sorry for that. I have to admit that it really helped tho. Alone is not how I do life, and you all know that. Alone would be so unmotivating and unhealthy for my recovery-even the 4th recovery. And while I know I have said often that this could be the way the rest of my life is lived (and can be lived at length) that doesn't mean I was really ready for it. The timing is really bad. Senior in HS, a lovely exchange student, boys who are about to start baseball.... However, now is better than spring or summer that is for sure.
Onward we go. I'm getting ready.
Lots of love,
Vicki
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Adendum
That was about feelings that lie.... It's not how I'll choose to go thru this. It is just how I feel. I know better than to let myself go thru this alone, without you. I just want to cocoon. I want to be isolated. I want to be alone. But I know that's not healthy and not how I will walk in victory.
So, that's that.
So, that's that.
Just don't
As I told my daughter in the middle of a fight, 'feelings lie', I could feel my head spinning a bit out of control knowing that I was fighting feelings of my own at that very same time but I was not willing to let them become a lie.
I'm not sure I am even still.
It all started about a 3 weeks ago, when once again my CA 125 was elevated, but this time above normal- to 47. The plan was to repeat the blood work in 2 weeks, which I did. It came back at 49. Not bad I thought, considering that the last time it was in the 40's, the 2 week recheck brought with it a number above 100. When I talked with Chris she said she and Dr. Hicks had talked about my number and thought that if I was willing we could try just the Avastin for my treatment. Avastin is a medicine, not chemo. So I was thrilled and the weight of the world was no longer on my shoulders.
Then Friday came along. I spoke with the office again only to find out that they want me to do 2 chemo treatments, just as the others, and were trying to get it set up. My world crashed, it blew up, it came to a hault and I wanted it to end. The Avastin made me feel hopeful. Chemo does not. And every once of hope that I had before Friday morning disappeared. It hasn't been seen since.
I had so much hope when my number went down from 34-30 a while ago. I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe I really was a miracle, that God was choosing to use me as a living miracle. I don't usually allow myself such hopefulness, but I did that time. I really thought I was done with cancer.
Then Friday came along. Every once of hope, belief, faith I had rushed out of my body which quickly filled itself with anger and doubt, helplessness and hopelessness. That is a really bad way to feel. I haven't felt that in a very long time. I didn't even tell anyone until Saturday morning (except Tim) and I made it very clear that where I was dwelling was not good and that I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. That is not how I usually am.... And today, I skipped church. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't even be well enough to come there to be sad and angry. I just didn't want to have to talk about me. I'm so sick of me. I'm so sick of cancer and chemo and pain and fatigue. I'm more than tired of telling my children I have to have chemo again. What does this do to them? I wish I knew.
I actually swore at the poor sweet woman who told me. She said not to let this get me-because I am always so full of hope. Another friend said that God must want to do so much more with me; that I inspire her and others. I simply said 'not right now- not this time'. As Friday continued so did my tears, anxiety, anger and bitterness. The tears are gone now, but not the rest. I am so mad. I am so scared. I am so confused.
To make matters worse, I heard a bit of a Joyce Meyer's lesson and she said something to the effect that when you are being tested by God, make sure you get it right so you don't have to be retested. Well, I've been doing what he told me to. I've been sharing and persevering.
I think this has been the biggest 'why' moment of my life. I don't think I've let myself even entertain such a stupid question all thru this journey. This time seems to be super special. I've never been this low, this empty of hope before. I'm not worried about dying right now- that isn't it at all. I'm hopeless because God had the chance to use me as a living miracle in December when He made the numbers go down. He had the miracle. I had the miracle. Why can't it just be mine? It's not like I don't tell others about what He has done for me and thru me. It's not like others haven't told me what God has done for them thru me. It's nonsense.
And there it is. This world makes no sense. This disease and so many others make no sense. Timing makes no sense. Nothing makes sense right now.
So just a warning to you. I am not who I was. I will be again, but I think God's gonna have me on some sort of journey besides cancer this time. I am cocooning into myself, my home. I don't want to leave. I don't think I'll be walking around bald this time. I am feeling no strength or sass to help me get thru. I don't want anyone to be with me when I have treatments. I don't want any help coming in. I don't want to talk on the phone. I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to be noticed. In fact I am thinking I have to get new hats because I want to hide myself. I want to hide my story. I want to hide my weakness. I want to hide the looks I get from others. I don't want pity. I don't want help. I want the damn miracle.
I don't even want you to comment. There's nothing to be said. This time will be a different journey. You might want to run and hide.
I'm sorry if I made you cry. I'm sorry for a lot of things to come.....
Vicki
I'm not sure I am even still.
It all started about a 3 weeks ago, when once again my CA 125 was elevated, but this time above normal- to 47. The plan was to repeat the blood work in 2 weeks, which I did. It came back at 49. Not bad I thought, considering that the last time it was in the 40's, the 2 week recheck brought with it a number above 100. When I talked with Chris she said she and Dr. Hicks had talked about my number and thought that if I was willing we could try just the Avastin for my treatment. Avastin is a medicine, not chemo. So I was thrilled and the weight of the world was no longer on my shoulders.
Then Friday came along. I spoke with the office again only to find out that they want me to do 2 chemo treatments, just as the others, and were trying to get it set up. My world crashed, it blew up, it came to a hault and I wanted it to end. The Avastin made me feel hopeful. Chemo does not. And every once of hope that I had before Friday morning disappeared. It hasn't been seen since.
I had so much hope when my number went down from 34-30 a while ago. I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe I really was a miracle, that God was choosing to use me as a living miracle. I don't usually allow myself such hopefulness, but I did that time. I really thought I was done with cancer.
Then Friday came along. Every once of hope, belief, faith I had rushed out of my body which quickly filled itself with anger and doubt, helplessness and hopelessness. That is a really bad way to feel. I haven't felt that in a very long time. I didn't even tell anyone until Saturday morning (except Tim) and I made it very clear that where I was dwelling was not good and that I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. That is not how I usually am.... And today, I skipped church. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't even be well enough to come there to be sad and angry. I just didn't want to have to talk about me. I'm so sick of me. I'm so sick of cancer and chemo and pain and fatigue. I'm more than tired of telling my children I have to have chemo again. What does this do to them? I wish I knew.
I actually swore at the poor sweet woman who told me. She said not to let this get me-because I am always so full of hope. Another friend said that God must want to do so much more with me; that I inspire her and others. I simply said 'not right now- not this time'. As Friday continued so did my tears, anxiety, anger and bitterness. The tears are gone now, but not the rest. I am so mad. I am so scared. I am so confused.
To make matters worse, I heard a bit of a Joyce Meyer's lesson and she said something to the effect that when you are being tested by God, make sure you get it right so you don't have to be retested. Well, I've been doing what he told me to. I've been sharing and persevering.
I think this has been the biggest 'why' moment of my life. I don't think I've let myself even entertain such a stupid question all thru this journey. This time seems to be super special. I've never been this low, this empty of hope before. I'm not worried about dying right now- that isn't it at all. I'm hopeless because God had the chance to use me as a living miracle in December when He made the numbers go down. He had the miracle. I had the miracle. Why can't it just be mine? It's not like I don't tell others about what He has done for me and thru me. It's not like others haven't told me what God has done for them thru me. It's nonsense.
And there it is. This world makes no sense. This disease and so many others make no sense. Timing makes no sense. Nothing makes sense right now.
So just a warning to you. I am not who I was. I will be again, but I think God's gonna have me on some sort of journey besides cancer this time. I am cocooning into myself, my home. I don't want to leave. I don't think I'll be walking around bald this time. I am feeling no strength or sass to help me get thru. I don't want anyone to be with me when I have treatments. I don't want any help coming in. I don't want to talk on the phone. I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to be noticed. In fact I am thinking I have to get new hats because I want to hide myself. I want to hide my story. I want to hide my weakness. I want to hide the looks I get from others. I don't want pity. I don't want help. I want the damn miracle.
I don't even want you to comment. There's nothing to be said. This time will be a different journey. You might want to run and hide.
I'm sorry if I made you cry. I'm sorry for a lot of things to come.....
Vicki
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