After a Thursday-Friday treatment last week, I was able to recover and jump back into life on Monday afternoon. I've never recovered this fast from a chemotherapy before. Things are good.
My weigh-in was also a celebration in itself. Last month's weigh in was 100.5 lbs. September's weigh-in was 105.7 lbs. Five pounds in one month? Amazing. In addition, my SED/ESR levels dropped from 130 (in July) to 15 last week. For the first time in a really long time, it's nice to be boring. I'm eating it up.
Due to some amazing family and friends in the next three months I will be hopping in cars, planes, and trains to....
California
good old Hartford, CT
Dirty Jerz!
and Athens, Greece.
Scan on November 10th, Dr. O is hoping for a small remission, which would mean a month or two off of treatments. He might just be right this time...
xoxo
B!
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
l'arte d'arrangiarsi...
So much has changed and transformed within a month, that I, myself, can't even believe it. I will update more, when I catch my breath from my weekend getaways, and school but for now here is a quick recap of the last month:
- I was accepted into school, as a transfer student and started classes last week. I am loving being back!
- Finally found a yoga studio that fits my personality, and my body is thanking me everyday.
- The Bendamustine-chemotherapy has been extended to only once a month. I am in heaven. I haven't gone this long without seeing medical personal since summer of '09.
- There haven't been any night sweats, fevers, or any other symptoms since my first dose of this chemo. How amazing is that?
- I finally set up a PayPal account to the 'Rebekah Fund' which is over on the side bar. I despise asking for money, but if you would like to help me and my family in ANY way, we'd be so ridiculously grateful for your donation to my medical travel and accomodations.
- I was able to visit New England two weekends ago, and catch up with amazing friends. Had the energy to drive up on a Friday night, come back sunday, and then go on to do a full week of classes -- I haven't felt this amazing in a year.
- I have definitely gained weight, and can't wait to see what my weigh-in will be, come September 16th, when I have my next treatment. I'm hoping to at least hit 105 lbs, since my 100.5 lb weigh-in, in August.
- Three of my dearest friends, my brother, and I are planning a trip to Greece over my winter vacation to celebrate, ME, surviving four years with cancer. I wonder what we'll do for my fifth anniversary? :)
- After losing my hair to the SGN-35, my baby hairs are finally sprouting!
- I am back to being Bekah, for the time-being. It's so nice to finally see myself again...
- I am sucking the marrow out of life, and am grateful for every single second of it.
Sending love to each and every one of you,
xoxo
B!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
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
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
Sunday, August 8, 2010
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:
Slowly, I'm doing it.
with your help.
Thank you loves,
B.
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 ....
- 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.
 |
| Lily! |
Slowly, I'm doing it.
with your help.
Thank you loves,
B.
Friday, August 6, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, August 2, 2010
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:
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 :)
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 ;)
- 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
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Farewell, SGN...
Just a quick note, after I ranted, I decided to make some calls to NYU and describe the pain I'm going through (as I've been telling them this for the last month). They, and I both feel that it is time to move on to the drug called Bendumstine. It's the first real chemotherapy (besides the short run on Doxil), I've had since transplant about two years ago.
All I am hoping for at this point is for my fevers and pain to subside...
since they have kept getting worse with each cycle.
The 'B' drug is once every three weeks, for now. The only difference is -- it is a two day infusion. So, one infusion on Wednesday's and one on Thursday's.
I'll be starting next week.
Let's hope this one doesn't tear me down too badly with side effects, as I still feel as though I have little reserves to fight anything back.
If you have been on this drug before, I would LOVE to hear more about it, the change is pretty sudden and I haven't done too much research on it. So, if you have any advice or experience you could share it would be wonderful (post a comment or email me: RebekahFurey@mac.com)
Hope you're all surviving in this heat.
Sending you Love,
Bekah
All I am hoping for at this point is for my fevers and pain to subside...
since they have kept getting worse with each cycle.
The 'B' drug is once every three weeks, for now. The only difference is -- it is a two day infusion. So, one infusion on Wednesday's and one on Thursday's.
I'll be starting next week.
Let's hope this one doesn't tear me down too badly with side effects, as I still feel as though I have little reserves to fight anything back.
If you have been on this drug before, I would LOVE to hear more about it, the change is pretty sudden and I haven't done too much research on it. So, if you have any advice or experience you could share it would be wonderful (post a comment or email me: RebekahFurey@mac.com)
Hope you're all surviving in this heat.
Sending you Love,
Bekah
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Work with me.
I normally have 12-14 GOOD great days. Yes, most are in pain. But most of those days, I have enough energy to do something fun with friends, eat out, spend time with the fam, or enjoy time in doylestown.
Today was suppose to be a good day. Yesterday was too. So, was Sunday.
I feel as though, I really take on whatever treatment side-effects/cancer side effects I can with as much acceptance and grace as possible. I adapt, I change my schedules, I do whatever it takes to make those good days, absolutely wonderful. I pack as many friends, family, and 'me' time out of the apartment into those moments as I can. And with 12-14 days, it's felt sufficient enough to endure my 7-9 bad days that follow.
But ever so slowly as each cycle has been going by... my good days are getting slimmer. And this week, when my fevers were not suppose to start till Thursday, they started Sunday afternoon. I want to look up at the sky and just scream ' Work with me here! Please!' I try to handle these clinical trial with as much ease as possible. But when I only get 10 good days, and 20 bad days. My mood shifts. A bit of anger churns in my stomach.
I've followed the rules, I've taken the drugs, I don't push myself, I haven't slumped into a depression, I've let this treatment take my hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes, I've continued to lose weight, yet force feed myself every chance I get (not a pleasent experience). I'm doing everything I can, and this is what good karma gets me? more bad days.
This basically means, I have one solid good week now, and two lousy ones. It's frustrating, and the quality of life is now not nearly as high as it was, or needs to be. The chronic pain, is now an every day occurence. And, I'm not lovin' it.
Scans are next week, I've had one scan with progression, and one scan with a 'mixed' response; however, in my eyes it was still more progression then needed. My guess is I will receive another 'mixed' response (more progression); however, this time the big issue of quality of life, which has kept this trial going for me, is lessening. To me, this means it is probably time to move on to something else.
It would just be nice if something.. a good drug, really worked with me. So I can stop trying to live my entire life in one small week... opposed to a month, like normal healthy people.
I apologize for the rant. I think I'm in a need of a change, and most likely it'll be through treatment.
- Bekah
Today was suppose to be a good day. Yesterday was too. So, was Sunday.
I feel as though, I really take on whatever treatment side-effects/cancer side effects I can with as much acceptance and grace as possible. I adapt, I change my schedules, I do whatever it takes to make those good days, absolutely wonderful. I pack as many friends, family, and 'me' time out of the apartment into those moments as I can. And with 12-14 days, it's felt sufficient enough to endure my 7-9 bad days that follow.
But ever so slowly as each cycle has been going by... my good days are getting slimmer. And this week, when my fevers were not suppose to start till Thursday, they started Sunday afternoon. I want to look up at the sky and just scream ' Work with me here! Please!' I try to handle these clinical trial with as much ease as possible. But when I only get 10 good days, and 20 bad days. My mood shifts. A bit of anger churns in my stomach.
I've followed the rules, I've taken the drugs, I don't push myself, I haven't slumped into a depression, I've let this treatment take my hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes, I've continued to lose weight, yet force feed myself every chance I get (not a pleasent experience). I'm doing everything I can, and this is what good karma gets me? more bad days.
This basically means, I have one solid good week now, and two lousy ones. It's frustrating, and the quality of life is now not nearly as high as it was, or needs to be. The chronic pain, is now an every day occurence. And, I'm not lovin' it.
Scans are next week, I've had one scan with progression, and one scan with a 'mixed' response; however, in my eyes it was still more progression then needed. My guess is I will receive another 'mixed' response (more progression); however, this time the big issue of quality of life, which has kept this trial going for me, is lessening. To me, this means it is probably time to move on to something else.
It would just be nice if something.. a good drug, really worked with me. So I can stop trying to live my entire life in one small week... opposed to a month, like normal healthy people.
I apologize for the rant. I think I'm in a need of a change, and most likely it'll be through treatment.
- Bekah
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
How do you live with chronic cancer?
Between treatment last week, the move, and other odds and ends its been a bit of an emotional week. Sometimes, I just need reminders that we're all doing the best we can do (this includes me.). I wrote this post last spring, and sometimes rereading it, helps remind me of that...
-----
Throughout the last few months, I have been thinking, carefully. About this topic. About the beautiful, kind-hearted , soulful individuals who fall into this unforunate category.
Recently, after disclosing my disease to a class mate of mine, in one of my grad classes. She asked me, so how long do you have to straddle between both worlds, the world of normalcy and the world of disease. When, would treatment be over?
And, without hesitation, I told her never.
Most likely, I will have treatment the rest of my life.
And I began to think, about this population. Knowing, I'm no where close to being the only one in these shoes. That, somewhere, out there, while you are walking the streets. Picking up coffee, dropping your kids off at school, or sitting next to someone in class. You will cross paths with these individuals, individuals like me, who are somehow fixed between two worlds, attempting to survive, to move forward, to live. While managing a chronic illness. You think to yourself, that you could never do it. You could even comprehend, or imagine, what a future of drugs, and tests, and needles could be like. Trust me, I don't want you to.
But, there is also something else that you could never comprehend or imagine either. The drive. The desire. The passion. To suck, every bit of marrow out of life. In a world where people ask, 'how do you see yourself living in ten years?' I want to laugh, at them, and tell them. That, they know nothing. About life. Or the present. Or the beauty of now. I want to tell them, that I know the secrets. I know, more, about this, then them. I want to tell them as they look at my bright blue eyes, curls, and healthy laugh, that they have no idea. They have no idea.
I want to tell them, to stop thinking of three months, six months, two years. I want to tell them, to embrace today. I want to tell them a lot of things.
-
A few weeks ago, I had a dinner, with a beautiful couple in Ohio. The young woman, tried to convey how although she would never wish to have such a devastating illness, herself, or anyone around her, she desired this thinking. The mindset that everyone always 'claims' to have, but truly do not. The mindset, of living each day, till the last minute. And for every second within that minute. The mindset, in which we talk the talk, but trip and stumble when we actually attempt to walk the walk. And, its within these realities, that I realize, this is something, not many people, experience.
I live, with a cancer, that most likely will never be cured.
I live, with a disease, that might one day kill me. Or, the treatment, will kill me.
I live, with this, every day, of my life.
These are my realities.
I endure, pain, and discomfort, and instability, and honest to god, heartbreak, wrenching, tear-your-soul-out-heartbreak. From living with my own disease, and watching, for the last two years, and years to come, the devastation of cancer, illness and death. However, because of these factors. Because of this extreme. Somehow, my head and fragile heart creates another one, to somehow balance my world.
I experience pain.
therefore, I experience, beauty.
Just as my cancer, remains a consistent fear, during most parts of my life. So, does the love, that burns, deep within me, for individuals in my life. It is a deep, dark, secret of mine, but one, I finally wish to share. The notion that, I adore the people in my life, and love them, in ways, I did not even know existed. Therefore, I make it a point, to let, those people -- whether they be the sick, the healthy, or the inbetween. I let them know, how deep, my love, burns for them. Because for me, being honest, showing how much I care, and love, and adore others, calling out their beauty, their perfect uniqueness that no one else in this world can claim -- these are no longer my fears.
In truth, it is only cancer, I will allow myself to fear.
Which in turn, gives me the strength, to embrace
every day, every hour, every minute
and deeply love, every individual in both of my worlds --
as I continue to straddle, between them.
-
Today, I hope you take the time, to hug the ones you love.
B
Recently, after disclosing my disease to a class mate of mine, in one of my grad classes. She asked me, so how long do you have to straddle between both worlds, the world of normalcy and the world of disease. When, would treatment be over?
And, without hesitation, I told her never.
Most likely, I will have treatment the rest of my life.
And I began to think, about this population. Knowing, I'm no where close to being the only one in these shoes. That, somewhere, out there, while you are walking the streets. Picking up coffee, dropping your kids off at school, or sitting next to someone in class. You will cross paths with these individuals, individuals like me, who are somehow fixed between two worlds, attempting to survive, to move forward, to live. While managing a chronic illness. You think to yourself, that you could never do it. You could even comprehend, or imagine, what a future of drugs, and tests, and needles could be like. Trust me, I don't want you to.
But, there is also something else that you could never comprehend or imagine either. The drive. The desire. The passion. To suck, every bit of marrow out of life. In a world where people ask, 'how do you see yourself living in ten years?' I want to laugh, at them, and tell them. That, they know nothing. About life. Or the present. Or the beauty of now. I want to tell them, that I know the secrets. I know, more, about this, then them. I want to tell them as they look at my bright blue eyes, curls, and healthy laugh, that they have no idea. They have no idea.
I want to tell them, to stop thinking of three months, six months, two years. I want to tell them, to embrace today. I want to tell them a lot of things.
-
A few weeks ago, I had a dinner, with a beautiful couple in Ohio. The young woman, tried to convey how although she would never wish to have such a devastating illness, herself, or anyone around her, she desired this thinking. The mindset that everyone always 'claims' to have, but truly do not. The mindset, of living each day, till the last minute. And for every second within that minute. The mindset, in which we talk the talk, but trip and stumble when we actually attempt to walk the walk. And, its within these realities, that I realize, this is something, not many people, experience.
I live, with a cancer, that most likely will never be cured.
I live, with a disease, that might one day kill me. Or, the treatment, will kill me.
I live, with this, every day, of my life.
These are my realities.
I endure, pain, and discomfort, and instability, and honest to god, heartbreak, wrenching, tear-your-soul-out-heartbreak. From living with my own disease, and watching, for the last two years, and years to come, the devastation of cancer, illness and death. However, because of these factors. Because of this extreme. Somehow, my head and fragile heart creates another one, to somehow balance my world.
I experience pain.
therefore, I experience, beauty.
Just as my cancer, remains a consistent fear, during most parts of my life. So, does the love, that burns, deep within me, for individuals in my life. It is a deep, dark, secret of mine, but one, I finally wish to share. The notion that, I adore the people in my life, and love them, in ways, I did not even know existed. Therefore, I make it a point, to let, those people -- whether they be the sick, the healthy, or the inbetween. I let them know, how deep, my love, burns for them. Because for me, being honest, showing how much I care, and love, and adore others, calling out their beauty, their perfect uniqueness that no one else in this world can claim -- these are no longer my fears.
In truth, it is only cancer, I will allow myself to fear.
Which in turn, gives me the strength, to embrace
every day, every hour, every minute
and deeply love, every individual in both of my worlds --
as I continue to straddle, between them.
-
Today, I hope you take the time, to hug the ones you love.
B
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Explain the pain:
This post is to clarify some things about the treatment I'm receiving: SGN-35. A lot of wonderful people, ask me how I'm feeling. There's never really a perfect answer for this question. Usually I say, "Today is a good day." Or "This is my bad week." I just wanted to clarify what exactly my bad week is, and how this whole process works. If that's okay with all of you :) Also, it's good for other people who are on this treatment to know that these symptoms/side effects are possible.
The treatment is a three week cycle. So, for example this thursday (July 8th) starts Day One of my three week cycle. After my treatment I have my 'Good Weeks'... Almost about two solid weeks that I feel decent enough to do something in 3-6 hours of time, or have movement, hold conversations, be vocal, participate in society, start YOGA (next week!), and basically do AS MUCH as I can in those 12-13 days of time. Then my "Bad Week" hits. This month, it will hit....around July 21-22nd. One of my friends recently said, it just feels like you sounded great a few days ago. And yes, that might be true, but I'm here to try to explain the pain of my bad weeks. When they hit, things dramatically shift. And although I might have a good day in my bad week, it usually means I'm really tired of laying in bed, so I force myself to do things, even with 103 fevers.
So, what does a bad week entail:
- If you have ever had the flu. It is basically like having the flu for a solid seven days.
- I start with high fevers, usually 102-103. Sometimes, if I'm lucky they go down, other times they don't. These are the times people usually don't hear from me... just because, I'm so exhausted in trying to beat down these fevers, that I can't focus or think.
- Vomiting. enough said.
- Pain, I'm here to explain the pain because... oy vey. It hurts. Sometimes a combination of pain meds and muscle relaxants help? But usually I have 2-3 days where I just literally can't move because my muscles and bones ache so much. A lot of people compare this to Fibromialgia, but to the 10th power, and it doesn't stop... until I receive treatment again.
And that's where the cycle ends. This 'Bad Week' ends, somehow Di or my mom drive me into New York, I receive an infusion. And, presto -- my two 'Good Weeks' are back. I hope this clarification helps all of you, so now when you ask I can just say "eh. 'good week' or 'eh, bad week.' Makes things easier for me :)
So, I'm headed to New York on Thursday. Even though the infusion reactions are pretty violent themselves, it's nice to know... I have some good days to look forward to. Some good, BALD, days may I add (by next week) too. The SGN has pretty much destroyed any hope of hair left. So, the buzzers will be coming out next week.
Let's hope I can still rock that bald look ;)
Hope everyone had a wonderful 4th of July.
I'll be posting soon on one of my good days :)
And, showing you this BEAUTIFUL apartment that I am blessed to be living in.
Lots of Love,
B!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
'I feel it all. the wings are wide.'
Last Wednesday was an important scan....
The results showed 'stable' disease. Some nodes increased, others stayed the same, and one or two decreased in size. However, there was around a 17-18% increase in total tumor/node volume. Therefore, my oncologist team feels that this treatment is (possibly) keeping my disease at bay -- this may or may not be true. But we won't know for sure. Between last scan and this, there was a bit of a miscommunication, and I won't bore you with the details; however, nothing is larger than a 4cm node, imagine a small grape, those are the sizes of my tumors. At this point in time, it's really hard to confirm if the drug is doing something, or this is just my normal progression of disease. Whatever it is though, it has kept my horrible symptoms that were occurring from November to March, to a minimum. So there is the positive.
The difficulty however is still the dramatic allergic reaction I have during infusions. My team and family compare it to 'being in a car accident, once every three weeks.' A few days after my infusion, the pain is so severe that I can only move my neck up in bed some nights. However, the SGN is actually working longer than we had anticipated, so we're all smiling about that. The pain, the side effects, the travel, the fatigue, in the long and short run is worth it when I have...
my little brother :)
My dtown fam <3
beautiful, beautiful friends from all over...
strength from myself,
and all of you...
I continue to put one foot in front of the other, and cherish every minute that I have the energy to enjoy the sunshine, my family, friends, food, and next week -- my new apartment.
With my 5th infusion behind me (last Thursday), infusion number six will be July 8th. And it appears, with every two infusions we will then scan again to keep a careful watch over this treatment. Therefore, we scan at the end of July.
I hope each one of you are doing well. I know there are a lot of warriors starting new treatments and still in the trenches here with me. So, if you have time, please visit some inspiring blogs that are close to my heart, and leave some love.
Here's to my refractory loves:
- Anne who is starting a new chemo regimen, to prepare for her allo transplant.
- Hillary who is going to be juggling chemotherapy with lung treatment as well.
- Chris who will be having a scan in early July to hopefully determine his disease continues to be stable or reduced.
- Marsha, who does not have a blog -- but please send her some warm and positive thoughts as she endures a chemo cocktail that are not being so wonderful to her blood counts.
- And lastly, to Kirsten, who just inspires, and blows me away with her positive attitude as she continues her cancer battle as well. Please read her latest entry and poem, it is absolutely beautiful.
Sending love... to each of you,
Bekah
Friday, June 11, 2010
a new start..
This post confirms the official new beginning, it affirms my come-back, it demonstrates that even those who you think after weeks in the hospital might never see the outside world again -- will surprise you.
I may have lost ground, somewhere along the line this year. But, I'm gaining it back in a different way. I tend to do this every year or so, if you aren't familiar with my story. It keeps this interesting. Never dull. Never boring ;) Even though I really wouldn't mind a little boring in my life.
There are still a million and one things on my to-do list before the first of July but a big one I get to cross off. It's all thanks to my Moms, Uncle Jay and Aunt Bobbi, we finally found myself a new apartment in Doylestown, starting July 1st. It's in a perfect location (I can walk to the bus stop, where it picks me up for NYC), I'm practically neighbors with one of my closest and oldest friends here (Hi Mr. Ward!), and starbucks, the dtown bookstore, and my favorite bagel place are walking distance. The parents are about a 5 minute drive for any emergencies, and my pharmacy is across the street. Now how sweet is that for a cancer patient? :)
In addition, my Aunt and Uncle have also opened a trust account for me. Fortunately, I haven't needed to think about financial issues too too much in the cancer world, but as treatments continue (we never planned on me being sick for this long - who wrote this story anyway?), some of which are not on my plan now -- or free from clinical trials, I am here, like the rest of the world, to graciously ask for any donations. Help for bus rides to NY, help with prescriptions, help with IV fluids at home when needed. Cancer is definitely a full time job, yet, we're the ones paying! and not getting paid. Anyway, I will slowly learn how to attach paypal to this account, in case any of you would like to make a small donation to the trust.
And lastly, we approach the dreaded scan next week. Which is where I want to share a bit of information about the SGN, because it might be my last post on it. Originally, the smaller dose as we know did not work. I have a small feeling, due to symptoms, that this large one is not working either. Which will mean a new start of treatment. For those who are or are about to go on SGN, I warn you about the side effects/allergic reactions I had during ALL of my infusions, even with premeds.
Allergic Reactions:
I may have lost ground, somewhere along the line this year. But, I'm gaining it back in a different way. I tend to do this every year or so, if you aren't familiar with my story. It keeps this interesting. Never dull. Never boring ;) Even though I really wouldn't mind a little boring in my life.
There are still a million and one things on my to-do list before the first of July but a big one I get to cross off. It's all thanks to my Moms, Uncle Jay and Aunt Bobbi, we finally found myself a new apartment in Doylestown, starting July 1st. It's in a perfect location (I can walk to the bus stop, where it picks me up for NYC), I'm practically neighbors with one of my closest and oldest friends here (Hi Mr. Ward!), and starbucks, the dtown bookstore, and my favorite bagel place are walking distance. The parents are about a 5 minute drive for any emergencies, and my pharmacy is across the street. Now how sweet is that for a cancer patient? :)
In addition, my Aunt and Uncle have also opened a trust account for me. Fortunately, I haven't needed to think about financial issues too too much in the cancer world, but as treatments continue (we never planned on me being sick for this long - who wrote this story anyway?), some of which are not on my plan now -- or free from clinical trials, I am here, like the rest of the world, to graciously ask for any donations. Help for bus rides to NY, help with prescriptions, help with IV fluids at home when needed. Cancer is definitely a full time job, yet, we're the ones paying! and not getting paid. Anyway, I will slowly learn how to attach paypal to this account, in case any of you would like to make a small donation to the trust.
And lastly, we approach the dreaded scan next week. Which is where I want to share a bit of information about the SGN, because it might be my last post on it. Originally, the smaller dose as we know did not work. I have a small feeling, due to symptoms, that this large one is not working either. Which will mean a new start of treatment. For those who are or are about to go on SGN, I warn you about the side effects/allergic reactions I had during ALL of my infusions, even with premeds.
Allergic Reactions:
- Rashes over my entire upper body, and I mean, covered from fingertips to shoulders with red blotches, also throughout my legs, and spots around my hairline and upper face.
- This is not to scare anyone, but unfortunately, during my very first infusion I lacked oxygen and was unable to breathe for a few seconds. The drug labored my breathing to the extent that I could not breath on my own.
- Deep, deep, raw pain in my lower back (where your stem cells develop). This would go on and on, until they tripled my dose of morphine.
- Fevers during the infusion
- High heart rate
- Low blood pressure
Side Effects:
- Neuropathy (I know I spelled it wrong, I apologize). Losing feeling of my toes, but within others its been extreme to full feet, fingers, and hands.
- Hair thinning - they tell you this is a rare one, and now I've spoken with plenty of others that agree it is NOT rare. Haven't needed to take out the buzzers yet, but I'm getting close.
- GI tract, I've hardly consumed any chocolate or coffee since my first infusion.
So, that is so far what I've experienced. Through cancer B-symptoms, the drug tends to where off one week before I am suppose to go into my next infusion. So, I have an infusion, have a decent two weeks, and then week three -- as it started for me on Wednesday, the fevers and vomiting hits. I've also had low blood counts, dehydrations, and other issues throughout this treatment but I mainly believe that is due to my cancer and not the actual drug.
So. This is suppose to be a cheerful update. And, it is! Whether I continue this treatment next week (scan on Wednesday), or am told that I need to start a new treatment due to further progression it will be a new step. A step towards a small form of stability in treatment (that we haven't seen for a long time), or a step towards a new treatment that will hopefully start showing this beast who is boss. Either way, these are steps forwards, and god knows I like to move :)
Here's to new, delicious, beginnings!
Sending Love,
B!
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Grateful. for. the. fam.
These are my ten younger cousins, my grandparents on my mother's side, and my pup, Lily. These last few weeks, I can't even tell you how grateful I am for my family -- the Furey's and Rosan's. They have supported me, emotionally, physically, financially, mentally, moving-wise, and in other areas you can think of. They truly lift me up, when I am down.
So! Decisions have been made. And although, it may not have been 100% what I have wanted to do if I was healthy, this is a good compromise, and I am at peace and happy with my future plans.
I've finally decided to move closer to home, near this beautiful family, and lots of old friends, and leave Boston for the time period. I have decided to transfer programs to a PA school here, close by, and continue my Masters in Counseling Psych (focus in children/teens), and move into my own place in good old Doylestown. Here, I'll finish my degree in another year or two and then see where the wind blows me. Originally, this was a very hard pill to swallow. My love for Boston will never burn out; however, a lot has changed over the last few months, and I know, this is the right move for the time being.
I have the support of my family around the corner, good, old friends that have been wonderful to me here, and I am much, much, closer to treatment. Although, I don't want to admit it, its been really nice, being able to lean on others, when needed during these months. And though I know I could have gone back to Boston and run myself into the ground for the third time :) I think I would rather take things a bit slower, here in Doylestown. Be near family. Enjoy things. Pace myself... and get stronger. And that's much easier to do when you have your family right around the corner.
So game plan for life: Transfer from Lesley University to Chestnut Hill College, find an apartment (which will happen HOPEFULLY any day now), YOGA, and smile more.
Game plan for cancer: Enjoy these next two weeks. PET/CT Scan on the June 16th. Prepare for the worst (that SGN-35 is still not working, and we hop on to a new treatment), and hope for the best (stable disease, so we can continue this treatment). We'll see which way it goes.
So, here's to game plans :) and being happy that I have some, once again.
'you will find peace within yourself, once you've found all the pieces....'
Sending Love,
B!
So! Decisions have been made. And although, it may not have been 100% what I have wanted to do if I was healthy, this is a good compromise, and I am at peace and happy with my future plans.
I've finally decided to move closer to home, near this beautiful family, and lots of old friends, and leave Boston for the time period. I have decided to transfer programs to a PA school here, close by, and continue my Masters in Counseling Psych (focus in children/teens), and move into my own place in good old Doylestown. Here, I'll finish my degree in another year or two and then see where the wind blows me. Originally, this was a very hard pill to swallow. My love for Boston will never burn out; however, a lot has changed over the last few months, and I know, this is the right move for the time being.
I have the support of my family around the corner, good, old friends that have been wonderful to me here, and I am much, much, closer to treatment. Although, I don't want to admit it, its been really nice, being able to lean on others, when needed during these months. And though I know I could have gone back to Boston and run myself into the ground for the third time :) I think I would rather take things a bit slower, here in Doylestown. Be near family. Enjoy things. Pace myself... and get stronger. And that's much easier to do when you have your family right around the corner.
So game plan for life: Transfer from Lesley University to Chestnut Hill College, find an apartment (which will happen HOPEFULLY any day now), YOGA, and smile more.
Game plan for cancer: Enjoy these next two weeks. PET/CT Scan on the June 16th. Prepare for the worst (that SGN-35 is still not working, and we hop on to a new treatment), and hope for the best (stable disease, so we can continue this treatment). We'll see which way it goes.
So, here's to game plans :) and being happy that I have some, once again.
'you will find peace within yourself, once you've found all the pieces....'
Sending Love,
B!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Glorious.
This blog started out as a huge release for my feelings and emotions. Unfortunately the last two years, with so many hits, and strangers coming and reading I've realized how much I've reeled myself back and put some walls up. Which is a shame. I love writing, and even as of recent people swear I should collect some of my old writings from here and the board and put them into some kind of memoir.
At this point though, I've narrowed the readers on this blog down to 200. Still a lot, but nothing like before. I miss writing with passion, and talking about the rawness of this disease and my life. I miss it. I still write everyday on my own. However I can't tell you how nice it is to help other cancer patients with information, or other chronic illness patients with how to go about this life as gracefully as possible.
I watched a lecture yesterday with my brother on natural happiness and synthesized happiness. The difference? Natural happiness is something more or so expected in our lives that we would definitely be joyful over, ie, winning the lottery, visiting a long-time friend, a graduation. We expect to be happy, we usually get it, our brain is wired that way. Flip parts of those thoughts around and you find the synthesized happiness. This is how we perceive our situation, and what we take from it -- it lends you to be happy if you are in control of this part of your brain (which he revealed obviously, many of us are not). He gave a great example of a innocent man who had been convicted for life, the man spent around 50 years in prison until DNA proved him innocent. One of the first statements he released was
'I don't regret a moment of it, it was glorious.'
There are probably a lot of you staring at that phrase and thinking, is he insane? As soon as this lecturer revealed the picture of this man and his quote, I didn't flinch. I understood. To a certain extent, even under the harshest of circumstances we create our own happiness. Yes, there are things we will get in life (few and maybe far between) that will REALLY make us happy. But the moments that we are living, are ours to own.
Sometimes, I am in a prison. My body is my prison. For months, I was throwing up every meal, my body ached everywhere, I had blood draws almost everyday, and to say I was weak would be an understatement. Flash forward to today: The last two weeks have been heaven. Those two weeks I did not throw up, spike fevers, need fluids, or take extra medication. Did I do anything crazy? Did I win any money or meet the man of my dreams? Did I land a great job? Or did my disease get any better? no. But I control my perceptions over things. Most people might think I'm crazy. 'So, all you did was visit friends in CT... have dinner with your Aunt and Uncle... have a few lunches with friends.. and spend time with family?' yeah. that is all I did, and it was wonderful.
I won't lie, January-March was a low, low point for me. I couldn't move. I was vomiting 4-5 times a day, at least 20 pills a day, losing weight, needing two units of fluids, tons of blood draws, I was wasting away. But I can tell you, in between -- there was a dinner with my aunt and uncle, a visit with a friend, much TV watching with my moms, and lots of phone calls from friends that kept me going. I write this because, I truly believe our lives are all about perspective. We will do things and experience things we absolutely loathe, or that are insanely painful to continue on our path. But in my eyes, at this moment, even if you are literally or figuratively living in a prison, there are moments... somewhere.
I gaurentee fifty years in prison ain't no cup of tea. But I also bet, that man left that gated institution with knowledge, friendships, an abundant amount of mental stamina and strength.
So, it is. in many forms about perspective and this different form of happiness. Will I still be happy when one of my friends gets married, has a baby, or when I finally graduate? Of course. But I will also soak up happiness when I get to have lunch with a friend, when food stays in my stomach, and when my body doesn't hurt for a few hours in a day.
So remember, you do have your natural happiness. Things that will obviously make you happy. But, your synthesized happiness is something you can actually control, it is a lens you look through that can better your life, your relationships, and your experiences. For me, I always wonder what it would be like to compare myself to my peers... what would each say on our 50th birthday parties? Because I know there are a lot of my peers out there who 'expect' to get to age fifty, and definitely will not say the same thing I do, if I get there. Can you guess what it would be...
Maybe something along the lines of, 'it was glorious for me too.'
-----
Infusion four tomorrow: positive thoughts for no more allergic reactions.
Sending Love,
B
At this point though, I've narrowed the readers on this blog down to 200. Still a lot, but nothing like before. I miss writing with passion, and talking about the rawness of this disease and my life. I miss it. I still write everyday on my own. However I can't tell you how nice it is to help other cancer patients with information, or other chronic illness patients with how to go about this life as gracefully as possible.
I watched a lecture yesterday with my brother on natural happiness and synthesized happiness. The difference? Natural happiness is something more or so expected in our lives that we would definitely be joyful over, ie, winning the lottery, visiting a long-time friend, a graduation. We expect to be happy, we usually get it, our brain is wired that way. Flip parts of those thoughts around and you find the synthesized happiness. This is how we perceive our situation, and what we take from it -- it lends you to be happy if you are in control of this part of your brain (which he revealed obviously, many of us are not). He gave a great example of a innocent man who had been convicted for life, the man spent around 50 years in prison until DNA proved him innocent. One of the first statements he released was
'I don't regret a moment of it, it was glorious.'
There are probably a lot of you staring at that phrase and thinking, is he insane? As soon as this lecturer revealed the picture of this man and his quote, I didn't flinch. I understood. To a certain extent, even under the harshest of circumstances we create our own happiness. Yes, there are things we will get in life (few and maybe far between) that will REALLY make us happy. But the moments that we are living, are ours to own.
Sometimes, I am in a prison. My body is my prison. For months, I was throwing up every meal, my body ached everywhere, I had blood draws almost everyday, and to say I was weak would be an understatement. Flash forward to today: The last two weeks have been heaven. Those two weeks I did not throw up, spike fevers, need fluids, or take extra medication. Did I do anything crazy? Did I win any money or meet the man of my dreams? Did I land a great job? Or did my disease get any better? no. But I control my perceptions over things. Most people might think I'm crazy. 'So, all you did was visit friends in CT... have dinner with your Aunt and Uncle... have a few lunches with friends.. and spend time with family?' yeah. that is all I did, and it was wonderful.
I won't lie, January-March was a low, low point for me. I couldn't move. I was vomiting 4-5 times a day, at least 20 pills a day, losing weight, needing two units of fluids, tons of blood draws, I was wasting away. But I can tell you, in between -- there was a dinner with my aunt and uncle, a visit with a friend, much TV watching with my moms, and lots of phone calls from friends that kept me going. I write this because, I truly believe our lives are all about perspective. We will do things and experience things we absolutely loathe, or that are insanely painful to continue on our path. But in my eyes, at this moment, even if you are literally or figuratively living in a prison, there are moments... somewhere.
I gaurentee fifty years in prison ain't no cup of tea. But I also bet, that man left that gated institution with knowledge, friendships, an abundant amount of mental stamina and strength.
So, it is. in many forms about perspective and this different form of happiness. Will I still be happy when one of my friends gets married, has a baby, or when I finally graduate? Of course. But I will also soak up happiness when I get to have lunch with a friend, when food stays in my stomach, and when my body doesn't hurt for a few hours in a day.
So remember, you do have your natural happiness. Things that will obviously make you happy. But, your synthesized happiness is something you can actually control, it is a lens you look through that can better your life, your relationships, and your experiences. For me, I always wonder what it would be like to compare myself to my peers... what would each say on our 50th birthday parties? Because I know there are a lot of my peers out there who 'expect' to get to age fifty, and definitely will not say the same thing I do, if I get there. Can you guess what it would be...
Maybe something along the lines of, 'it was glorious for me too.'
-----
Infusion four tomorrow: positive thoughts for no more allergic reactions.
Sending Love,
B
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
I'll take it!
Although there was a serious emotional hit from the scans, something has changed physically after this last infusion...
What may you ask? I actually feel (gasp) good.
I have much to update everyone on, as I'm starting to formulate a plan again for life :) and the future. The pieces feel like they're starting to fit together, little by little. Even, if the treatment does not work with the increased dose, I am starting to feel emotionally and physically strong enough again to start another battle, with a different treatment -- if need be.
To note, things that are going well: I haven't needed fluids in two weeks, I have energy, I am eating more and more (maintaining my weight), my counts haven't seemed to take a hit (yet), I am finally done blood draws on Sundays, so this past weekend I was able to visit friends from undergrad in CT, and spend the entire weekend with them, which has been the best medicine of all. And the most smiles and laughter I've had in a long, long time.
Things are far, far, from perfect. But, for at least a week or two, I've been feeling good. And, I'm going to ride this wave for as long as it allows. I leave for NY again for infusion number four on the 27th. We will pow wow with Dr. O, and determine when a CT or X-ray will be since now we've done two infusions with the higher dose (1.8) instead of the lower dose (1.2). Most likely it will be soon.
For now, its been a calm, lovely, and beautiful week/end with friends. Friends, who I have never, in my life felt more grateful for...
'In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.'
Sending Love,
B
What may you ask? I actually feel (gasp) good.
I have much to update everyone on, as I'm starting to formulate a plan again for life :) and the future. The pieces feel like they're starting to fit together, little by little. Even, if the treatment does not work with the increased dose, I am starting to feel emotionally and physically strong enough again to start another battle, with a different treatment -- if need be.
To note, things that are going well: I haven't needed fluids in two weeks, I have energy, I am eating more and more (maintaining my weight), my counts haven't seemed to take a hit (yet), I am finally done blood draws on Sundays, so this past weekend I was able to visit friends from undergrad in CT, and spend the entire weekend with them, which has been the best medicine of all. And the most smiles and laughter I've had in a long, long time.
Things are far, far, from perfect. But, for at least a week or two, I've been feeling good. And, I'm going to ride this wave for as long as it allows. I leave for NY again for infusion number four on the 27th. We will pow wow with Dr. O, and determine when a CT or X-ray will be since now we've done two infusions with the higher dose (1.8) instead of the lower dose (1.2). Most likely it will be soon.
For now, its been a calm, lovely, and beautiful week/end with friends. Friends, who I have never, in my life felt more grateful for...
'In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.'
Sending Love,
B
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Results
Bad News: My disease has progressed in several areas in addition to new disease. Progression of old disease ranges from .5cm - 1.5 cm. The largest node is now 5.0 x 5.5cm, above my right hilum. This is the largest my disease has ever been. I also have new nodes (since transplant) located at the back of my abdomen ranging from 1.0 x 1.2 cm.
Decent news: My therapuetic dose was lower than normal, since the first two cycles were studying the effects of a pharm drug in combination with the SGN-35. That means, they're letting me stay on the trial for a few more cycles to see if the normal dose 1.8 per kgs, instead of the 1.2 per kgs I've been receiving will make a difference.
In other News: I do not have to be back in New York for my weekly visits anymore. Therefore, I won't be here till May 27th, for my 4th infusion. As I had my 3rd infusion (still with allergic reactions) yesterday morning.
'i pray to be like the ocean, with soft currents, maybe waves at times. but, more and more, i want the consistency rather than the highs and the lows.'
B
Decent news: My therapuetic dose was lower than normal, since the first two cycles were studying the effects of a pharm drug in combination with the SGN-35. That means, they're letting me stay on the trial for a few more cycles to see if the normal dose 1.8 per kgs, instead of the 1.2 per kgs I've been receiving will make a difference.
In other News: I do not have to be back in New York for my weekly visits anymore. Therefore, I won't be here till May 27th, for my 4th infusion. As I had my 3rd infusion (still with allergic reactions) yesterday morning.
'i pray to be like the ocean, with soft currents, maybe waves at times. but, more and more, i want the consistency rather than the highs and the lows.'
B
Friday, April 30, 2010
Oy Vey.
Again, wishing I had better news to relay to you all. But it is what it is...
Monday the moms and I headed to the ER due to major chest congestion and coughing. Luckily, it was attributed to major allergies and sinuses. The X-ray revealed no pnemonia to speak of. Thank god. However, the coughing and other symptoms has prevented me from receiving a good nights sleep the last two weeks, and added antibiotics.
Thursday morning, I arrived in New York City for my weekly check-up. I had been feeling extra fatigued and light headed but just assumed it was due to my head cold. After several blood tests and my check-up with my NP the results came back and it showed that my Hemoglobin (red blood cells) had taken a huge nose dive as well as my potassium (major lack of elctrolytes). I could hardly walk, or keep my head up with my numbers all over the place. The rest of the day was spent in the infusion room to receive fluids, potassium, and a unit of blood. We arrived at 9am in the office, and left by 8:30 pm that night -- long day to say the least.
This morning, I headed back there to recive two more units of blood since my levels were so low. My reserves aren't that great right now, but I'm attempting to hold tight and see where this takes us. For the first time, in a really long time my oncologist team is again feeling that these symptoms do not have anything to do with my cancer, nor the treatment. SGN-35 is not suppose to cause 'counts' to bottom out. So, today, my NP decided to do addition blood tests to see again... where these mystery symptoms (the fevers, vomitting, low counts) are coming from. We are all feeling again, that something else, or some type of infection continues to rear its ugly head from week to week, and no one can put their finger on what it is. To say it is frustrating would be an understatement.
On a good note, this is the last 'weekly' check up I will have. My visits once a week to New York have definitely taken a toll on myself, my body, and my family and friends -- we are ready for this part of the trial to be over. After next week, I will only have to return to NYU for infusions (once every three weeks). So, we cheer for that.
In addition, I'm staying at the Hope Lodge througout the weekend and next week. I have received two cycles of SGN, and next Thursday morning, May 6th, I will have my first scan. If the scan reveals stable disease (which we hope for), I continue on this trial, and receive treatment (for cycle three) the next day, May 7th.
This part of the trial has been a long one, I'm grateful and thankful that it is over, and hold onto hope that the scan and future treatments reveal promising news. Thank you all for your kind thoughts, and positive support. I'm not sure how I would keep truckin' along without each and every one of you.
Lastly, I officially turned 'two years old' on April 22nd. Although, yes, my transplant failed, it is still an accomplishment -- that I'm here -- still kickin :)
Sending Love,
Bekah
Monday the moms and I headed to the ER due to major chest congestion and coughing. Luckily, it was attributed to major allergies and sinuses. The X-ray revealed no pnemonia to speak of. Thank god. However, the coughing and other symptoms has prevented me from receiving a good nights sleep the last two weeks, and added antibiotics.
Thursday morning, I arrived in New York City for my weekly check-up. I had been feeling extra fatigued and light headed but just assumed it was due to my head cold. After several blood tests and my check-up with my NP the results came back and it showed that my Hemoglobin (red blood cells) had taken a huge nose dive as well as my potassium (major lack of elctrolytes). I could hardly walk, or keep my head up with my numbers all over the place. The rest of the day was spent in the infusion room to receive fluids, potassium, and a unit of blood. We arrived at 9am in the office, and left by 8:30 pm that night -- long day to say the least.
This morning, I headed back there to recive two more units of blood since my levels were so low. My reserves aren't that great right now, but I'm attempting to hold tight and see where this takes us. For the first time, in a really long time my oncologist team is again feeling that these symptoms do not have anything to do with my cancer, nor the treatment. SGN-35 is not suppose to cause 'counts' to bottom out. So, today, my NP decided to do addition blood tests to see again... where these mystery symptoms (the fevers, vomitting, low counts) are coming from. We are all feeling again, that something else, or some type of infection continues to rear its ugly head from week to week, and no one can put their finger on what it is. To say it is frustrating would be an understatement.
On a good note, this is the last 'weekly' check up I will have. My visits once a week to New York have definitely taken a toll on myself, my body, and my family and friends -- we are ready for this part of the trial to be over. After next week, I will only have to return to NYU for infusions (once every three weeks). So, we cheer for that.
In addition, I'm staying at the Hope Lodge througout the weekend and next week. I have received two cycles of SGN, and next Thursday morning, May 6th, I will have my first scan. If the scan reveals stable disease (which we hope for), I continue on this trial, and receive treatment (for cycle three) the next day, May 7th.
This part of the trial has been a long one, I'm grateful and thankful that it is over, and hold onto hope that the scan and future treatments reveal promising news. Thank you all for your kind thoughts, and positive support. I'm not sure how I would keep truckin' along without each and every one of you.
Lastly, I officially turned 'two years old' on April 22nd. Although, yes, my transplant failed, it is still an accomplishment -- that I'm here -- still kickin :)
Sending Love,
Bekah
Monday, April 19, 2010
Update
I've decided I hate reporting bad news. I love making people smile with my good news. Maybe I am not cut out for this cancer lifestyle -- I'm ready for a new life now please! :)
Alright, here we go, quick and dirty:
The most difficult thing for me, is to taste the sweetness of just... feeling good and then all of a sudden it being taken away. It appears that every time I have a small glimmer of light, a huge wind just blows it away. I'm trying to handle my emotions in as much of a consistent manner as possible, but I'm not going to lie. It's difficult. When you have good news one week, and not so great news the other. When you feel SO good with blood counts, and then... they dip or crash. Some people have no idea how much their mind really is connected to their body.
I really am trying though, behind all of this I still attempt to be grateful.
These things I am oh-so-grateful for, would be: My family, knowledge that I have the resources to keep me alive as of now, really REALLY good-beautiful-kind hearted-understanding friends who are going with my flow because everyday I feel differently, an amazing team of doctors who literally hold my hand when things appear out of control, a roof over my head, FOOD. I have a lot. I know I do.
It's just when you know there is more... outside of this cancer life. You want it. You want it badly.
I want it.
B
Alright, here we go, quick and dirty:
- - As easily as the ESR rates came down, they bounced back up (around 80ish). Dr. O said this will be normal, eventually during that second or third week of blood work, we'll chizzle that 80 down to 70 and so on.... I'm putting a lot of faith in him lately, lets hope he's right. We'll find out this Thursday if my ESR has gone down again since I had treatment at the end of last week (the 15th).
- - I had a mighty rough allergic reaction to the SGN this time around. It was scary. I wish not to discuss it. I'll be pre-medicated during my next cycle, to prevent this from happening again.
- - My 'feel good week' and no more fevers/vomiting, ended right before my infusion last Thursday. The fevers roared back after I was at the end of my Leviquin dosage (anti-biotics). So, once again I'm being slammed with anti-biotics, IV fluids, fatigue, night sweats, you name it.
The most difficult thing for me, is to taste the sweetness of just... feeling good and then all of a sudden it being taken away. It appears that every time I have a small glimmer of light, a huge wind just blows it away. I'm trying to handle my emotions in as much of a consistent manner as possible, but I'm not going to lie. It's difficult. When you have good news one week, and not so great news the other. When you feel SO good with blood counts, and then... they dip or crash. Some people have no idea how much their mind really is connected to their body.
I really am trying though, behind all of this I still attempt to be grateful.
These things I am oh-so-grateful for, would be: My family, knowledge that I have the resources to keep me alive as of now, really REALLY good-beautiful-kind hearted-understanding friends who are going with my flow because everyday I feel differently, an amazing team of doctors who literally hold my hand when things appear out of control, a roof over my head, FOOD. I have a lot. I know I do.
It's just when you know there is more... outside of this cancer life. You want it. You want it badly.
I want it.
B
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Big News :)
This is a little bit of shocking news, hence the 'oh my gosh!' gasping face I am posting for all of you... what a difference a week makes!
And by the way, I apologzie, you will all have to suffer with these type of shots, if any, because unfortunately my camera is still in Boston. So I am unable to shoot pics with friends. Anyway, lets get to the good stuff...
Thursday Diane and I hoofed it back to NYU for my 'check up.' I will have these weekly 'check ups' for the next five weeks, as protocol for the clinical trial. One of the blood tests that is looked at weekly is my ESR or your SED rate, my nurse practictioner defines it as the following:
ESR is a blood test that we monitor with our Hodgkin’s patients. It is a non-specific test that measures inflammation and in HD it can sometimes correlate with active disease when elevated.
ESR is also known as = erythrocyte (Red blood cells) sedimentation rate or your SED rate: rate at which erythrocytes settle out of anticoagulated blood in 1hr. This test is based on the fact that inflammatory and necrotic processes cause an alteration in blood proteins making the red blood cells stick together, causing them to become heavier and more likely to fall rapidly. The faster the erythrocytes fall the higher the ESR level.
The normal range is different for men and women – for females, a normal 'healthy' range is between: 0-20
So, before treatment my ESR rate was 130, signifying that there was definitely a moderate to significant amount of disease within my body. But you would not believe the news I received today.... After one infusion, a week later my ESR level was at a 5! A NORMAL range! This test does not ultimately tell us for 'sure' what is going on specifically with my disease, only a PET/CT scan will do that. However, this is REALLY good news for a small blood test, it alludes that although I haven't had any horrible side effects... that this treatment, is definitely doing its work on the cancer.
For now, we hold onto these good moments, and just keep on keepin on..... (while smiling!).
Sending Love,
B!
And by the way, I apologzie, you will all have to suffer with these type of shots, if any, because unfortunately my camera is still in Boston. So I am unable to shoot pics with friends. Anyway, lets get to the good stuff...
Thursday Diane and I hoofed it back to NYU for my 'check up.' I will have these weekly 'check ups' for the next five weeks, as protocol for the clinical trial. One of the blood tests that is looked at weekly is my ESR or your SED rate, my nurse practictioner defines it as the following:
ESR is a blood test that we monitor with our Hodgkin’s patients. It is a non-specific test that measures inflammation and in HD it can sometimes correlate with active disease when elevated.
ESR is also known as = erythrocyte (Red blood cells) sedimentation rate or your SED rate: rate at which erythrocytes settle out of anticoagulated blood in 1hr. This test is based on the fact that inflammatory and necrotic processes cause an alteration in blood proteins making the red blood cells stick together, causing them to become heavier and more likely to fall rapidly. The faster the erythrocytes fall the higher the ESR level.
The normal range is different for men and women – for females, a normal 'healthy' range is between: 0-20
So, before treatment my ESR rate was 130, signifying that there was definitely a moderate to significant amount of disease within my body. But you would not believe the news I received today.... After one infusion, a week later my ESR level was at a 5! A NORMAL range! This test does not ultimately tell us for 'sure' what is going on specifically with my disease, only a PET/CT scan will do that. However, this is REALLY good news for a small blood test, it alludes that although I haven't had any horrible side effects... that this treatment, is definitely doing its work on the cancer.
For now, we hold onto these good moments, and just keep on keepin on..... (while smiling!).
Sending Love,
B!
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Blue eyes...
First SGN infusion...
The SGN-35 went as smooth and as calm as I am in this picture just resting. I even feel a bit better after the infusion, and my eyes seem to be returning a bit to their normal hue of blue. As you can tell, I feel as I'm barely waking out of this bad dream, and I don't want to get my hopes up (too high).
But after the infusion on Thursday, I did not have any adverse reactions, nor more fatigue. We hold onto this. And hope, that this will be a small turning point for some healing in my body and my mind.
Here's to more sunshine, and more blue.
B
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