Zipper surgery

Over the months since the surgery and chemo, this has been a question in my mind - can't we just a way to install a zipper? it would make life so much easier and simpler.

On the other side

I always think of that movie, with Kurt Russell, escape from New York - where his character says "See you on the other side" meaning on the other side of the wall, after the escape. Well, now I'm on the other side, of chemo, possibly of cancer, and not sure what it all means, but will be finding out soon enough. Five days from my last treatment, feeling pretty good all things considered. Some of it is definitely mental, knowing I'm finished, getting on a plane to the other side of the world to somewhere we love to be, and not in a hospital or treatment room. Instead, I'm detoxing from chemo and steroids and my face will soon not look like a chipmunk. But for the first time in six months I am out walking and working to improve my stamina and not worrying about tracking symptoms and side effects. freedom! with hair - as yes I still have hair, although thinner, but hair. I even used a blow dryer today for the first time in about seven months as I did not want to go out in the cold with a wet head and get sick. I was washing my hair only once or twice a week and staying home while it dried. So, on the other side, it is definitely happier, and more pleasant, but who knows what each day will bring. One day at a time. Back to the doctor in two weeks and will know more then.

Promising study re: metaformin

This seems like an important study demonstrating that I definitely need to reconsider eating any sugar given the prevalence for type 2 diabetes in my family and discussing with my physician this medication and the study: http://www.webmd.com/cancer/news/20121130/diabetes-drug-metformin-cancer

Fear and loathing??

I do truly dislike cancer. It is a horrible disease and a horrible way to die. Even though the treatments are much better and more effective than even a few years ago, there are just too many unknowns and unknowables. How long will I live? How long until another recurrence? Is there such a thing as remission for my cancer? Where is the crystal ball? Now that I am almost on the other side of treatment - the end - with hair, so many questions and so much fear. Now, I am at the hospital almost every week, I am being monitored heavily so if anything is wrong, someone is on top of it. It will be noticed. Maybe it is a false sense of security, but it is still a good form of monitoring. I have been so fortunate not to need any additional transfusions since the surgery in June, to not have any real complications, just normal tolerable side-effects. I know I am lucky in cancer terms, just maybe not in real life terms. So I face more unknowns and unknowables and try to get through the fear and live whatever life I have.

Must have during chemo

Yesterday was beginning of cycle 6, last carboplatinum treatment - yeah!!! 16 down, two to go, hard to believe this part will be over in two weeks, although the chemo nurse was telling me that this is really treated as a chronic disease now. So many women coming back for more and different treatments. Not fun. So last night I definitely was not feeling well, brain fog, etc. Yesterday in talking to the chemo nurse I was trying to tell her the four Fs one C concept I couldn't remember the last F - naturally that one was brain fog. Had to review my own blog to remember it. When I told her she and I got a good laugh from it. That said, during cancer, especially while on chemo, a must have is a small note pad which I carry in my purse and put by my bed to write down reminders etc. shopping lists and whatever I need because if I don't I definitely cannot remember even a minute later. Brain exhaustion.

Cancer is definitely not sexy.

Even though I still have hair on my head, cancer and treatment for cancer is definitely not sexy. Can't feel sexy while going through this. Almost no eyebrows left. Losing eyelashes. Very little pubic hair. I'm told this is all normal, especially losing all body hair, but it is not attractive and not conducive to feeling my usual sexy dynamic self. Not a turn to myself or D. Hormones - what are those? After surgery and chemo, definitely not having hormones that are normal. Friday night going to sleep at 8:00 p.m. after five days on steroids, and 4-5 hours of sleep per night, I just crash. Exhausted, Saturday night was not much better, making it to 9:00 p.m. but at least today we were able to take a drive to do a little shopping and eat lunch out. 30 more days to finish.

wanting out of my box

Since diagnosis, I feel as though my life has been so limited, stuck in a box that, as D. described it, seems to have spikes in it at every turn and angle. Just want out, almost at the end of treatment - four left, and want to get on a plane and get out of here, go live life and move past this, knowing all the while that I can't and never will. Just, as everyone says to me, a new normal.

post-Hurricane Sandy, snow, with hair - CA 125 at 12

We have now survived Hurricane Sandy, Noreaster Athena, 10 days of no power, heating house off inverter system with truck running it for a few hours a day, throwing out food (always upsetting), no laundry, getting septic system pumped in middle of it all and so on. I know we were better off then many, but it was a difficult time to be in bed after chemo not being able to eat properly, heat up food easily etc. Still have hair, but almost no eyebrows on either side now. Hair seems to be thinning on top, finding more on my clothes, pillows etc, but Hallie the wig has still not gone out of the house, and only six weeks left to go. I keep reading blogs and researching about post-chemo life, how long it takes to get back energy, focus etc, but not much help. Statistics don't look great, but I try not to focus on mortality. Brca1 is better than no Brca for survival rates with ovarian cancer but Brca2 is even better. Go figure. Just trying to get through next six weeks and get on a plane back to France.

thanks for Words with Friends

Since reading on any scale like a book is just impossible and I love words with friends, I am so grateful to my fellow lawyers who keep playing with me and keeping my mind working while my brain stews in toxic chemicals and I don't fall completely into the brain fog of chemotherapy.

Four Fs, One C with the Big C

Having now survived Hurricane Sandy and 9.5 days with no electricity, doing a carbo/taxol double treatment on my birthday/election day, no proper food with no refrigeration, getting electric back mid-snow storm, can think a little bit for the first time in days. So when you have the big C, CANCER it's hard to contemplate everything. Keeping my daily journal of progress and side effects is critical for me to track things, especially on days I'm not thinking clearly. For me the primary five side effects are four F-s Fatigue which can be extreme, feet hurting from neuropathy, foggy brain which for me just feels like my brain is stewing in horrible chemicals, flushed face which can be warm but not running a temperature. Now for the small C - constipation. very difficult to manage, thanks to collase and eating veggies/salads, raisin bran, drinking lots of water seems to help in all of it, but last week was very difficult when I couldn't eat properly. was very happy today to make my favorite squash and apple soup to get me through this week and help get my iron levels back up with spinach salad, hummus, and other foods high in iron for a person who doesn't eat red meat for many years and is taking taxol which attacks red blood cells. Going to the health food store tomorrow to also buy black strap molasses which can also help with iron levels.

Grandma Lee genes and dishes

having inherited the Braca1 genetic mutation from my paternal grandmother, Lee, I also inherited a set of dishes and crystal. The dishes are incomplete as she broke a few here and there over the years. But after searching for 12 years, I have finally located a set and D. is buying them for me for my birthday - November 6, election day, just another day I will be sitting all day in the chemo chair so I can stay alive. But the numerology of the 12 years, in year 2012, and Lee's birthday is the 12th, is interesting. Who knows what it all means.

Definitely on my sixth life

If a cat can have nine, I certainly hope that is at least what I have in my future. In looking at my past, having now survived cancer, survived a significant car accident, a domestic violence incident in which I almost died, the Northridge earthquake in LA in 1994, a crowd incident at the LA Olympics in 1994, I think I can qualify for some peace and quiet for a few years.

CA 125 update

So, in my last two cycles, CA125 levels are within normal range, last time 22.8, now down to 13.4 but still not reaching plateau which doctor says is what we are waiting for. Have a fantasy that next time my CA125 will be so low - maybe 0 - and we can call the treatments quits, but know that is simply not happening. Will have to suffer to the end of it.

Reflexology

My feet are definitely feeling better since I went for reflexology about three weeks ago. Although they were tinging a big after the last carboplatinum treatment, definitely not as painful as previously. Will be going back for more, and keep taking B6. Do not want to have a lower chemo dose so I will do whatever I must to tolerate this without permanent damage.

Resources

In addition to the NOCC (national ovarian cancer coalition) american cancer society and regular stuff see everywhere, two specialized groups: Immerman's Angels - pairs cancer patients with others in similar situations. Found the person they paired me with very helpful. She helped me let go of a way in which I was blaming myself for not getting genetic testing earlier (she had it), because they would have monitored me differently (she was monitored closely) and still ended up with 3c cancer. Another important resource that I am going to get more involved in after treatment is FORCE, for women who have the genetic issues I had, and help women understand their risks, get tested, get monitored, get educated, take action, as well as (especially for me) engage in the legal issues surrounding genetic problems i.e. discrimination, patents and so on.

Fatigue is definitely cumulative - with hair

So yes, after 10 treatments I still have hair. No reason, but it's still there. Fatigue this week was horrid, truly overwhelming, struggling to get out of bed to go to the bathroom. Thank goodness for anti-nausea drugs because I definitely needed them, especially yesterday. Couldn't even eat most of what I cooked last weekend. Just half a bagel here and there, a little pasta or soup. Apples, pretzels. Major brain fog. Couldn't even do much in terms of crochet or needlepoint. Looking at various grocery delivery services as not sure I can get out much from now on. Too much effort to walk the market, drive, lift, carry. World feels like it gets smaller by the day. Keep looking around me at the infusion room and wondering how worn down I will feel and look by the end. I look forward to 65 days from now, last treatment, coming to the other side, and hopefully recovery.

Preparation for treatment 10

A flurry of energy, cleaning out, cooking, preparing for what I can anticipate will be a horrid week of fatigue and possibly nausea, definitely mind fog. So, cooking yesterday, lots of vegetables including a casserole, and brown rice. Simple, plain food I can tolerate. Definitely nothing spicy. All fall vegetables which are nice now. Still love the squash soup I made last week but finished it off. oh well. Have my grapes and pretzels ready to go. If I can't eat anything else, those are ok. Apples are ready, always refreshing this time of year. Feeling organized and ready to go.

Outsides and Insides

On days I have energy, I continue to clean out my closets and house. Its rather like my health. On the outside everyone says I look great but knowing that my insides are in disorder and disarray. Likewise, I cannot stand clutter so in coming in to my home, it is uncluttered and clean, but my closets and cabinets and dressers could be more organized. So, over the summer, the kitchen got the clean-up treatment. I cleaned out my walk-in, and am getting it a little more organized now, and as the weather turns chilly, am now getting to my sweaters, gloves and scarves and anyone who knows me knows I have lots of scarves. It always feels good to clean out, to get organized, to make room physically and spiritually for new experiences and fresh ideas. To rediscover old favorites, and realize its time to let go of unused or worn out items, to pass them along to others who can enjoy them (via ebay or gifts) or just donations. But I continue to wonder, when it is all over, kemosabe that is, what will I do with my life? Which organizations to get involved in? What way to support other people who have gone through this? Who to raise money for? D. and I discuss so often how, when someone is sick, they should not have to worry about money and how to pay medical bills. We are lucky to have medical insurance, and lucky that for years I paid for (and was able to pay for) private disability insurance which is now paying me back, and that social security is not challenging my disability. The stress on families is just overwhelming.

To be alive with good health

Going into whole foods today to get a salad, since that was what I was craving, and these days I eat what I crave within reason, the gentlemen collecting carts near the entrance asked me if I needed a cart. As it had just started to rain, I said yes, so long as it wasn't too wet. He gave me a dry one and said, it was a beautiful day since we were alive and healthy. So true. I wasn't going to tell him how sick I was, just appreciate his positive energy and go forward.

Half way through - with hair

Last week was my half-way point, treatment nine, and I made it, with hair. My hair is definitely thinner on top and feels fine and soft, as opposed to normally thick and a little corse, but it's still there so I am not complaining. My doctor seems surprised as well. I ran into him in the mall Friday evening, when I was on my way to meet D. for dinner. Dr. S. keeps commenting on how well I look. Even my dermatologist today was saying I had a "glow" and calmness about me. It is bizarre to know that I am so sick on the inside, but look so good and healthy on the outside. 77 days to go.

Progress not perfection -CA125 level

Last week's blood test included CA 125 levels but the results were not in when I had chemo on Tuesday. My old bc(before cancer) self would have emailed and called the doctor and his staff to get the levels asap as I never take no for an answer and want what I want when I want it, but my dc (during cancer) self realized that nothing would change based on this level and I would get it today, and it didn't really make a difference in my life not knowing until today. So today when getting this week's blood level I was told it was down to 22.8. Definitely making progress and continuing the downward trend. It's all good.

hair on my head but not other places?

Definitely not the same as before. Still have hair on my head, but not in my nose, on my face, on my arms, less on my legs, less pubic hair. but after 7 treatments, amazing. difficult week with fatigue, nausea, and sick teenager in the house. took everything out of me to drive him to doctor and get his medications, monitor him when I didn't want to get out of bed. dealing with school and them not wanting to accommodate him and me - really horrible. 95 days to go until treatment is over.

how many lives do I have?

On today, 9/11 I am always thinking about how lucky I was to be delayed that day and not get to NYC as planned at 9 a.m. at the WTC path station. So that was one life. Another near-death experience was the Northridge earthquake in 1993 in LA. A car accident in LA in 1993 which did a lot of damage to me physically. Stuck in a people traffic jam at the LA Olympics opening ceremony, which could have resulted in a riot, and getting crushed. Another people traffic jam which ended up in pushing and shoving, a near riot, at my college, and someone pulled me to safety. Hurricanes, blizzards, a domestic violence incident with a former boyfriend many years ago, it seems rather endless. And now, of course, Ovarian cancer - is this my ninth life? is this the end or is there more to go. Wish I had the crystal ball and could see the future so I could plan, make sure I accomplish all my goals by then. But it is not possible, so I will focus on the next five years and see where I end up.

B6 is working - radiculopathy

During the last cycle I began to have the numbness and tingling in my feet - otherwise known as radiculopathy, and some swelling in my hands. I've worked at keeping my feet elevated as much as possible, using a peppermint - tea tree oil foot creme and night, and tight heavy socks to put pressure on my feet and made them feel better, especially given my existing nerve damage. Based on my research, B6 was a recommended solution for some people and after checking with my doc, I started taking 100mg of B6 daily and it is definitely helping.

The tease week - with hair

Yup - still have hair. Although I could use a trim at this point, I keep waiting to see if it will fall out, and it's still in my head. So, had a good very busy week, but it really is all a tease. The tease of having a week where I feel pretty well, have energy, can eat vegetables and fruits, without nausea, and generally feel normal. But it is a tease because I know tomorrow I will go back to the hospital, have blood taken, and Tuesday will start again with kemosabe, and fatigue and nausea. Depressing.

One third finished - with hair

Yes, I still have hair after 6 treatments, and one third done, with 12 to go, about 100 days left if all goes well. Even if I lose it at this point, I would survive. Hallie - my wig - is still waiting for me. I call her that because every time I put her on, I look like my cousin Hallie (who I love), and it looks just like her hair cut and color. Wasn't too bad last week, fatigue, tingling in my feet and hands, but tolerable. Started B6 100 mg which is definitely helping. Looking forward to my week off, to get caught up, take a hot soaking bath, clear my brain out, then to start over again. The weird part of it all is that we learn to live with the treatment and the routine of it, the side effects and so on for six months, then it's over and you move on, but with the fear hinting at the back of your mind at all times that this could return on any day and then what? Will the science be better or different? Can they get this into remission a second time? It is all unknowable.

obsessing about food

Maybe I'm just that bored and maybe I'm just that hungry, especially on steroids, but I do think about food a lot. Normally, I don't pay attention to ads for food, or people eating on television but suddenly, it looks good, and gets me thinking about food, like a beer commercial used to make me think about drinking (in early sobriety). I am watching what I'm eating, trying to eat as healthy as always, if not better, some days I'm lucky to eat a bagel if that's what I can get down. But I'm definitely planning food on days I can eat, because it is what I'm thinking about, not going to court, perhaps because it's one of the few things I can do.

Surrounding myself with people who care

While I am always grateful to have my husband and son around me as well as good friends, a strong conclusion any person going through cancer treatment would reach is only surround themselves only with people who truly care about them. Sometimes it means releasing friends and family who appear to be well meaning but when you scratch the surface, it is really about drama and tumult, and no cancer patient can handle it, especially not me. Only peace and serenity in my world. No negative energy. Some days it is hard enough to eat, to get out of bed, to get one thing crossed off my to do list. Some days nothing gets done. I sleep, watch tv,surf the net, can't focus enough to read a book, and am lucky if I can write anything.

Thanks to NJMVC for handicapped placard

I had the forms since I came home from the hospital. My doctor had signed them. Could have sent them in to MVC but couldn't really focus on it. Kept thinking D. and I would go there one day and just take care of it. Took me more than two months to finally get there early one day last week. The staff was pleasant and helpful and I was only waiting about 10 minutes until they opened the window. Maybe I waited because it is another admission that I am truly sick and can't be working, shouldn't be working. Some days I definitely should not be driving due to fatigue and lack of focus, mental clarity is just not there. So, when I left motor vehicle, I stopped at the post office on my way home. Naturally, there was only one handicapped spot available and as I was pulling in the driveway, a woman a few years older than me pulled into the spot and got out of her car. No handicapped placard or plates. I have to stay that over the more than 35 years I've been driving, since the inception of handicapped spots, I have never, ever parked in one, unless I was with my father when he was ill, or my husband who has a placard for his medical condition. But here I was, my first day with the placard, my first attempt to park in the handicapped spot. So, naturally, I rolled down my window and politely pointed out to the woman that she was parked in a handicapped spot. She just shrugged her shoulders and said she was only mailing a letter. I stated, again politely, that I was handicapped, and she did actually move her car. Unfortunately, I'm sure that is not the first or last time she's done this, but hopefully at some point a cop will see her do it, and ticket her. I am truly grateful to have the placard so I can park close to store and building entrances because I am just too fatigued to be walking long distances. Don't have it in me some days.

Week 5 over and with hair - but where's the fun?

Yes, I still have hair. Some fatigue today and definitely achy puffy feet, with some puffiness in my hands. Six weeks in to treatment, week 5 of chemo drugs. Definitely not fun but tolerable. As I think every day I sit in the chair, are we having fun yet??? Do I ever get to have fun again, to truly laugh again? I am so good at living one day at a time and I know I will get through this. I see others so much sicker than me when I am at the hospital. Maybe when I get to the end of the treatment, I will look exhausted and depleted like them. I don't know. I just try to get up every morning and get dressed, (not in sweat pants) put on some makeup and a scarf (as that is my signature), and make the best of the day. But I am too tired to go to New York or travel to anywhere, and not enough time between treatments, getting my son ready for his senior year of high school. I always feel it is an accomplishment when I make it through another winter, into the spring. This year I can't wait for December, and knowing that in the spring I will feel better, get my health back and move on to some fun and a return to life.

cancer statistics

Hard to believe the statistics in this country and how we had a "war" on cancer how many years ago - the 70s - and we were going to cure cancer. While treatments have clearly gotten better and survival rates, we so need more research funding and action by our do-nothing congress. So for the statistics, ovarian cancer is the 8th on the list for cancer in women but 5th for mortality. Probably because it is usually diagnosed in stage 3 or 4. More than 12 million people have cancer in this country or have survived it. More than 1,600,000 are diagnosed with cancer each year and more than 500,000 die each year from cancer. In contrast, only 1.2 million people in US have AIDS or are HIV positive, and only 9500 people died from HIV last year.

Cycle 2 - week 1

So tuesday was that special day in my month of carboplatinum and taxol combo, definitely the worst week. I don't know if it is better or worse coming off a week of no treatment when I'm feeling good, with energy, almost normal, and to take such toxic meds. Definitely did not feel good yesterday, battling nausea and horrible fatigue, lack of focus etc. but got through it. Today is a little better at least for now. Still have my hair. CA125 down to 37. Learned more about what it all means. As my doc explained to me, at some point that level will plateau and that will be my norm, since they don't have a baseline of what is normal for me. Could be 35 could be O. At least my numbers are trending down. This is still being studied. Learning more than I ever wanted to know about any of this.

Cold caps to save hair from chemo

Happened to see an article today about using cold to save hair during chemo. Naturally, something else that has been used in Europe for about 15 years that we don't have, or hasn't been approved by the FDA, but people are using it. Penguin cold caps are available but cost about $1500 for six months of treatment and we would need a special freezer etc. So, given who my husband is and after 12 years together, we're going to figure out our own methodology for this. I've been doing the things they recommend in terms of using a very pure shampoo, not combing my hair (because it's so short), not using hair dryer etc. (it is summer and it's short), and after three treatments I do still have my hair. Who knows, maybe I can get through this with some hair.

3 down 15 to go - Feeling ok so far.

Tuesday was my third treatment, the last of the first of six cycles, and I am amazed that I am not vomiting, not stuck in bed, etc. I will say the worst part if the disrupted sleep from the steroids, the constipation, and making sure I don't let my stomach get on empty because then I will get nausea. But knowing now that I have almost two weeks of no treatment is a gift, to get things done, to clean out my digestive system and get a little more normal, to get a little more organized, and see a few people for lunches and coffees, things I don't do when I'm working. The next round with both the carboplatinum and taxol is the worst week of the cycle, so we'll see how I feel, as the last one wasn't too bad, but I was exhausted. Maybe it was related more to still recuperating from the original surgery and then the surgery for the port, but we shall see.

So I am waiting for my hair to fall out

From what I have been told and what I read my hair is supposed to be gone by now, or at least thinning. The consensus seems to be 2-3 weeks from first treatment, or 15-16 days, with most people waking up in the am with hair all over their pillow and in the bed. So each night I go to sleep running my fingers through my short hair wondering what the morning will bring, but shocked when I get up and its still there. Maybe even needing another haircut soon as I had it done last five weeks ago. I have the wig ready, and when I go for treatment the nurses are amazed I still have hair on my head. Does it mean the dosage isn't high enough and isn't killing enough cells, healthy and cancer cells? Does it mean cutting my hair off early gave it a little more strength and made it more resilient? Probably will never know the answers to these deep questions, but I am grateful every day I have hair.

So a husband gets to give his wife shots and . . .

As a former domestic violence prosecutor, I spent much time and energy fighting abuse. And that said, I certainly know plenty of people who would be happy to be allowed to inflict pain on their significant others, fortunately my husband is not one of them. But in coming through the surgery and its aftermath, we learned that I would have to be taking shots for more than 30 days of an anti-clotting drug, every day. As D. is an MS patient and self-injects his medication, I immediately nominated him to give me the shots. I was definitely not into doing it myself in my depleted state, post-surgery. So, I gave him a license to inflict pain, although he tried not to, some nights it was horrible, as the medication burned going through my legs, and leaving me black and blue. He was rather relieved when it was all over.

Kemosabe

In contemplating chemotherapy the irony and dichotomy of it is so strong to me, as posted earlier about living healthy organic life, and allowing someone to put poison in my veins to keep me alive. Is this really therapy? What does it do? Chemical therapy? who came up with this concept? But trying to find something I could live with, and I keep thinking of kemo-sabe, in part because it is amusing, and in part because it allows me to think of Tonto and the lone ranger, on their horses riding into the sunset, not sitting in the hospital surrounded by other horribly sick people trying to stay alive. Is this a trusted friend? Isn't that what kemosabe is supposed to mean? It isn't really from native american languages. When I research it, it comes up from a summer camp the writer of the lone ranger series went to as a child. At least camp is happy and safe and even fun (at least I found them that way), not like hospitals which are tiring and scary. This will be a learning process to find that this is a trusted friend who will save my life.

So they're filling me with poison to save my life

That's a weird irony of cancer. I've lived for so many years (about 30) with organics, and no red meat since 1978, not smoking since 1984, not drinking since 1988, no caffeine, and everyone says how wonderful I look, so young, so healthy and here I am with stage 3 cancer. Dying. And I've battled all these years to fight my family history of hypertension, heart disease etc, which I don't have. Using natural cleaners for my home and laundry. No soda. and on and on. But here I am not just allowing but welcoming and thanking the medical community while they put poison into my body to save my life. To kill the bad cells and the good to keep me alive. Maybe the healthy living I've done all these years will result in a better outcome when its all done, but who knows. There's no science on it. I'm certainly thankful that the science exists to keep me alive because a few years ago, it was not the case. So, round 2 tomorrow.

Cancer jokes?

As always, trying to find some humor in this. As I ask the nurses, are we having fun yet? can there be fun in cancer? D. and I are joking all the time, what's it going to do, kill me? Give me cancer? when I consider whether to eat that deadly french fry or other bad food I normally would never eat but now is the only thing that is appetizing to me. Oh wait, already got that. Researched on the internet for something to make me laugh, but can't find much if anything. Yes, Fran Drescher is amusing with cancer schmancer but it doesn't really give you a belly laugh. so, if you're reading this, just send em my way.

BC DC AC

Keep thinking about those letters: BC - before - what was my life before, full busy, healthy, cooking, working, traveling, caring for my husband and son, helping my clients. DC - during - still figuring this out. That I get up in the morning with no purpose but to get through the day with whatever I am facing, be it hospital, home, paperwork that has to be done or whatever. Looking in my closet and drawing a blank. Instead of dressing for court, office, meetings, or going out with my son or husband, now I just draw a blank on what to put on. Why am I bothering? Do I just live in sweatpants? Do I put on any makeup? Can't let myself go as it would just be too demoralizing, even more than I'm facing with everything else? AC - after - who knows where I'll be in five months, after 16 more rounds of treatment. Can't think about it. Living in the day.

Wheelchair travel

One of the few positive things in this mess has been traveling where I had to fly and arranging for a wheelchair through JFK. Wow what a difference. Don't think I realized that I would be whisked through security to top of the line, through customs etc. At least I get something out of feeling like crap every day.

This is definitely not the way to lose weight

While I am not unhappy that I've lost so much weight due to this illness, surgery, loss of appetite etc, it would be so much nicer to be fat and healthy, or to say that yes I lost weight through diet and exercise, the right way. This is definitely not the good way, to get into clothes I haven't worn for a few years thanks to menopause. I could live without nausea, constipation, fatigue, etc. I could live without being declared disabled, knowing that my time may be very limited, that I have maybe a 35% chance of surviving 5 or more years. So many better things to do with my time and energy when I have it. Instead, I am stuck watching daytime television, (yes, 257 channels and nothing on) hanging with my dog (who is quite content) and worrying about my husband and son. Definitely not a way to live.

I wouldn't wish this on . . .

Isn't this what we say all the time when facing bad news. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy, or someone who has hurt us deeply. Be it bad luck, bad health, or some other misfortunate, do we really wish others such negativity, or positive outcomes in life. For me, I always say, I wouldn't wish this on my ex-husband, and truly I would not. I wouldn't wish cancer or ill health on anyone. It's just too painful and difficult.

My husband has a new wife

Not really, just one with new hair. Since he's known me, more than 12 years, I've had shoulder-length or longer auburn hair, thanks to garnier or other products. So, here I am facing chemo, and likely loss of my long thick hair. But yesterday, in my effort to come to terms, some acceptance of having cancer, and starting chemo in two weeks, I went to the hair salon, cut my hair very short, went nearly my natural grey. Cried and laughed, and waited for the shock of D.'s face when he saw me no longer with my mane of lion hair, but funky short, spiky hair. He's getting used to it, as am I, but feels as though he is married now to a new wife, with such a different look.

Can't I at least get a tummy tuck out of this?

Isn't it odd where our minds go when under tremendous stress. Mine tends to look for drama, tragedy and ultimately humor. So there I was in the hospital, the day after learning I had ovarian cancer, probably stage 3. Feeling horrible, my stomach distended, but at least I was cathaterized so I wasn't feeling the same pressure to pee but not being able to. Some good pain drugs was definitely in the mix. Then my husband and I are talking to the surgeon and he is telling me that he is going to perform a hysterectomy and probably have to re-section part of my bowel. I'm good with it, thinking and saying take out whatever you need to do to save my life, to give me a chance at seeing my 16 year old graduate from high school, college, graduate school etc. Maybe a grandchild? Then I ask whether this can be done as a minimally invasive procedure, and the doctor looks at me with his eye brows up and says definitely no, not this one as he needs to see clearly what is going on. That is when you know you're in trouble. And I was thinking, can't I at least get a tummy tuck out of this? But I didn't say it. Surgeon is a great doctor, but a bit dry and not sure of his sense of humor at that point, so I held my tongue and shared it with D. later, making him laugh instead. Who knew I would end up losing a quick 30 pounds of fluid, so the tummy tuck is not so "pressing" now.

That was one of my first thoughts when I was told I had ovarian cancer, stage 3. That morning I had taken out my box of Garnier hair color, auburn, planning to color my hair over the weekend. Clearly something was wrong with me medically, but I was definitely in denial about what was happening. I had been sick for several weeks before going to the doctor. As with most women with families, we don't care for ourselves. We work, take care of our families and homes. So there I was on June 6, 2012, getting up in the morning, stomach distended, not peeing properly, knowing now that I could not do anything but go to the doctor. He immediately sent me for a CT scan the following day, and gave me the results June 8. So, on my return home, I looked at that box of hair color sitting on the bathroom counter and said to my husband, guess I don't have to color my hair this weekend. And that is the beginning of my odyssey, through our medical system, our educational system as I advocate for my son through this and the college admissions process, and through life.