Humbled.

I truly thought one of the few things that would be a smooth transition would be school. It never does seem to work that way though, does it? :)

I was truly planning on only taking one or two courses at a small college here in Philadelphia. Nothing too big, but attempting to continue my program as best as I could, despite treatment being SO unstable the last 10 months.  But, no, no. That was not the case.

At the beginning of the week, I finally had the brain power and energy (thank you Bendamustine!) to call and figure out the ligistics of how this would all work out.  I explained my situation, where I was coming from the work that I had done, to the admissions counselor, and expected him to say "Okay, what classes do you want to register for." I had already taken so much time to decide the two classes that actually fit into my treatment schedule, that are doable, and ones I need.

Instead he said, "If you want most of your credits to transfer, you need to re-apply."
"Re-apply?" I said?
I'm thinking, are you kidding me -- classes start on August 30th.
Do you know what it takes to re-apply?
And as if one cue, he says, "To start this fall, You need to get in three letters of recommendation, your MAT scores from last year, transcripts, two essays, and an interview, by the 25th -- do you think you can do that? "
Oh right, and in between, I think to myself a round of chemotherapy. Lovely.

I didn't think I could do it, but I told him I'd attempt. I want this. I haven't wanted something this badly since I left Lesley University in December. I want my life back. And truth be told, I am a nerd. We all know this, and I absolutely, love every second I'm in school. It feeds me. It gives me purpose. It challenges me, and gives me the tools I need for my future clients.

The admissions counselor and I agreed that I could easily crank out the essays, track down my test scores and transcripts, hopefully bang out the interview, but the letters of recommendation would be difficult. Lots of professors are on leave, or teaching summer classes. Other's are busy on summer vacation, we both had doubt in our voices. So, we left it as... I would try, and we would see what would happen.

The next day, I sent out an email to several of my past professors, advisors, co-workers, and other supervisors I have worked with in the last two years. I thought, there was nothing I could lose by trying, right? 


Now here is where the perfect moment happens, in which I can not even put into words how incredibly grateful and humbled I feel towards these women, and the world.  I write one, email, and within two hours -- let me repeat, two hours, I have four individuals responding saying, "The recommendation will be out tomorrow." Or, "Please, Rebekah, I would be honored to write for you... can I be one of these individuals." And along with these responses, comes love, support, and confidence in my ability to continue my practice, that there is a need for me in this field, that they've heard it's been a rough winter, spring, and summer, and they are overjoyed at the possibility of me, little me, re-entering a program, and is there anything, ANYTHING, else they can do.

I cried.

I couldn't contain my emotions. Even though, they have been all over the place anyway. I just, cried, sweet tears, realizing how amazing these women are. How I have been so lucky to connect with such raw, brilliant, funny, and confident women. And they each assured me, our connection -- was not an accident.

There are still a lot of parts to this application process, but I'm shooting for this semester, and these things just make it much, much easier.

Needless to say, it was a humbling experience, and one that has deeply shifted my thinking. I have slowly, started to feed myself with more positive people, and positive things.  Began yoga this week, and of course have been focusing on these essays. This is a moment, I know I'll carry with me, and just wanted to share with you. There are truly, truly, beautiful people in this world. And I am just so thankful that some choose to be a part of my life.

Sending Love,

B

Rebound.

I do this. I crash, and somehow I rebound. Please don't ask me how, because I think it's more or less my family and friends who rescue me from the black holes that my body is tempted to fall into.  Last week was an incredibly rough week. I thank you for ALL of your emails, and comments. It was good to write, what I was truly feeling at that time -- however short lived it was, or maybe in the future.  I just wanted to write something small for all of you, since a few of you were a bit alarmed. I appreciate your concern, I really do.

I've started to realize when these ruts come about, I find pleasure in the smallest things. And it really tends to add up. So, here, I share with you. Another grateful list. Because despite this horrible hand of cards, I am so, so, blessed for so many things.

Grateful List:

• My family
• did you know I can call either of my mothers at almost any time of the day, and they are there for me? Not just 'there' physically, but emotionally, they are rock solid people. They keep me motivated, they keep me moving, they keep me alive. 
• My Aunts and Uncles on both sides of my family. They check in on me. They drive me home from chemo. They tell me I'm loved. They want to make curtains for me. They tell me I'm strong. 
• My brother. My brother has this power to sit with me, watch movies with me, give me space when I need it, and be there. 
• My friends -- I can't say enough about my friends. I can't even pick a state in which I could tell you how wonderful those friends are, more than others because, god damn, I am lucky. They are there, more and more, I realize this. 
• My puppy ....



Lily! 

• Scented candles
• Clean sheets
• Bright Green relay for life t-shirts from friends
• Text messages that mean the world :) 
• Address books as gifts
• A gorgeous apartment
• Signing up for classes.... and being excited about it. 
• Lastly, all of you. 

Are things still really rough? Yes. But as I move along, almost this four year journey of cancer. I've realized now, I'm allowed to have bad days. I'm allowed to be sad. I'm allowed to take time to experience the pain of this disease -- as LONG as I get back up.

Slowly, I'm doing it.
with your help.

Thank you loves,

B.

Lost.

For some reason, ever since the shift in treatment. My mind has been playing tricks on me. I recovered a lot faster than I had anticipated, which is great -- however, now I have a lot of time on my hands, and I don't want to seem to move.

I've been in these ruts before. I'm tired. I don't know if I can move on to the next treatment. I realize this is a situational depression. I self destruct in a way, that I hate to admit. I cut myself off from friends, or push them away. I overanalyze. Over think.

Classes will start the last week of August, and to be honest. I'm a bit terrified. I don't feel myself these weeks, as it just reminds me of two summers ago, recovering from transplant, building myself up only to realize that I had relapsed, again.

I think for a lot of Hodgers, SGN was going to be 'the' treatment to take us a little further. I thought, I had at least 8 or 9 months of stability to look forward to, now with loss of hair, and being off the trial. I can't help but be a bit angry.

For the first time, in a really long time, I have no idea what comes after this treatment. After the Bendamustine. I am questioning everything, and everyone around me. Which is not healthy. I have a wonderful support system, and I'm not utilizing it.

To be honest, I'm a bit sad. And, I know I have a right to be. This is hard, this is all hard, hard, stuff. And, I never give myself enough time to recover, REALLY enjoy things, while treatments are shifting.  I'm a type A personality, I need to focus on the next thing in front of me -- and the unknown, I think is scary for everyone, right?  Especially me.

I was exploring fears, within myself this week. And, I tend to have a lot... you take the normal 26 year old fears, and pair them up with chronic cancer, its frightening. No one should be allowed to think the thoughts I'm thinking.

I need to climb out of this hole, and this time, just trying to figure out how.

B.

Eager Beavers -- this is for you!

I've been meaning to post pictures, but between the move, treatment, and life, I've again lost my 'transfer' to do such. So, you will all have to be patient. However, the apartment is definitely almost up to 'Bekah' quality. But! You did not sign in today, to look for that.

For my eager beavers, who have been texting, calling, and emailing.
Here is the run down from last week:

• Met with Dr. O, we did NOT do a scan, we stopped SGN-35, the pain was TOO much for all of us, and there was no quality of life left. In addition, there wasn't any reduction. Which equated to, another end of another trial. This was the 6th treatment I've been on in the last three and a half years. I feel old.

• We switched to Bendamustine, a drug that has been used in Europe since the 60's and is FDA approved here for CLL and specific Lymphoma's (just not Hodgkin's yet). It has had great (fast, but short) responses. Therefore, if it works, it might give me some room to breathe without a lot of disease, but most likely the disease will come back fast. The catch: I am only allowed six cycles of this drug, and then no more... Another Hodger Kirsten is on this right now, you should cheer her on and see that she's been having a decent quality of life on it too. 

• As soon as we switched the drugs. My night sweats, fevers, pain, and other symptoms. STOPPED. (Yay! this is incredible news) This probably means something is happening to the cancer (so keep your fingers crossed).

• Main side effect of Bendamustine: low blood counts. To yield my counts bottoming out, we inject a shot called Neulesta into my lovely body. The day after my drug infusions. This makes my stem cells/blood counts go UP! but causes my pain in my back and my bone pain in my body to be earth shattering to the core.  Although I hate pain medications, to deter the pain, I utilize narcotics for most of the weekend that I've had my treatment. This means, I usually don't respond to people -- or if I do, you tend to get a pretty humorous response ;)

So, it's Monday evening, at the moment... and, I'm just about drifting out of my chemo-brain, narcotic-fog. I  would say that this is how my schedule is going to be for those who keep track :)

• Treatments will be on Thursdays and Fridays (next treatment August 19th and 20th)
• Neulesta Shot will be on Saturdays (August 21st)
• Pain, chemo-fog, unable to communicate well will occur between Saturdays and Tuesdays (August 21st-24th). 
• And we hope for good days... until the next round (September 9th and 10th).  

I'll be checking in again, to update you on other things BESIDES cancer. As I am slowly starting to plan my fall schedule, I have some incredibly exciting news about this coming winter, my new roomie! (my pup lilly), my amazing family (yet again!) and sharing silly tears over the fact that this last 'check in' with Dr. O was my two year anniversary working with him. 

Your cheers, posts, emails, and energy keep me going -- and this has been, and still is a small rough patch transitioning into a new treatment SO sudden. I thank you, I thank you, I thank you, from myself to my family, to all of you, for what you've given me everyday and what you provide me in the future.

Pictures to come soon, promise!

- B