MRI

Had my MRI today. Stuck in a tiny tube, unable to move, and having to do deep breaths... yes it was meditation time. I meditated on the word "One"... very helpful. But then there was one part where the noise the machine was making sounded just like Fatboy Slim Funk Soul Brother... and then that was repeating in my head...

Grade I

It's grade I cells and today I get the MRI to find out if it's stage I (keeping fingers crossed). I get to take this lovely drug called Megace, which will hopefully keep the cancer cells from regrowing and keep any tumors from developing. This is great news, because if it works (get another D&C at the 3 month mark) then after 6 months we can start seeing a fertility doctor. Dr. West (the oncologist) said that it will be difficult for me to get pregnant, because this is usually associated with ovulation problems and trouble for the embryo to implant, so we're just going to start out with the fertility doctor from the start. That's assuming (fingers crossed) it really is stage I as it seems it might be (given the negative biopsies and paps from the past couple months). This is great news!

Now I will just have to combat the weight gain, because Megace also happens to be a drug that makes you very hungry so they give it to AIDS and other cancer patients to help them gain weight... so woot... give the fat girl weight gaining drugs. I've already added 20 pounds since this whole mess started in January. So, I'll have to go on super vigilant mode. I've told Wayne no more little debby or other snack foods in the house. I am no good with temptation - and that's probably why the only time I've ever lost weight in my life is living alone. Because then I just didn't keep any foods in the house to be temptations.

I am going to finish reading a book I got a while back called the Hormone Diet, which is about eating to try and match the natural rhythms of the body, and trying to balance the endocrine system. I think eating with great intention might help me lose the weight, and also could be a bonus and help me be more fertile when the time comes. Plus, now that I'm hopefully done bleeding so much I can't leave the house, I will actually be able to get back on my gym schedule. This summer I have big plans - dog walks at least once (maybe twice) a day for a mile, yoga to get my body going, and gym at least 3 times a week. (I have a secret plot to start dragging Wayne to the gym as well, because I need him to help me with the weight training part - because you have to do more than just aerobics to lose weight).

Matthew 9: 20-22

20Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. 21She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.”

22Jesus turned and saw her. “Take heart, daughter,” he said, “your faith has healed you.” And the woman was healed from that moment. 

Matthew 17: 20

²⁰ He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

on Joy

When Wayne and I told my dad we were getting married, he told us he wished us Joy in our marriage. This is not the same as happiness. Happiness is ephemereal, but joy is lasting and long - it goes through sadness and pain, anxiety and surprises. Today I think I've come to understand this. This morning after leaving Subway, where Wayne bought me lunch, I felt a great sense of joy. My stomach is still in knots over what the doctor will say tomorrow, and I'm feeling some stress over the wedding, and I'm annoyed about the laundry that needs doing, and I swear one day I will kill the puppy (3/4 Rotty, 1/4 lab, and waaay too much energy), but I still felt a sense of well-being that all would be well.

I think this must be what my dad was talking about. It helped me get through several chores today - like finding out that I did not choose to get cancer coverage, but ce la vie... I did find out this oncologist will be covered by my new insurance (which switches just so conveniently on July 1).

Meanwhile, in other life news, I painted my nails today - rather disastrously! But this is precisely why I'm going to have a professional do my nails for the wedding!

And now I'm working on the bluegrass dinner music playlist - I thought that was the best way to work the roots into the wedding, without expecting people to dance to too many bluegrass songs (and I also figure the motor city DJ will not have a large selection of bluegrass... might just be my southern prejudice...) But doing the playlist on my dad's comptuer, means fixing his mistakes and actually importing the songs onto his new comptuer from the old one - sometimes one by one *groans*

Anyway... Seek Joy... I just wanted to post this so I didn't forget tomorrow.

Up Up Up

Day 2 and 3 after hearing the news I had cancer were rather more blurred. I talked to Wayne several times on the phone, but don't remember specifics of any conversation. I don't think we talked much about the cancer itself. I asked him if it was okay again... You see his first wife had been diagnosed with MS just months after they were married, and it essentially ended the marriage because she shut him out and gave up. Obviously, my diagnosis is not nearly as bad, but I didn't want him to feel saddled to another sick person... He said he wanted to head up to heaven and beat someone up.

My mood was at odds with the venue. My family took a hike and visited the nearby visitors center, where I took many pictures of the butterflies. After breakfast I had also gone to find a spot in the meadow to sit and think on my own. I snapped lots of pictures of the flowers and the butterflies and other insects... I heard a critter, probably some sort of rodent, and I determined to remain still and silent as long as I could to try and capture the creature in my lens.

 

I was having fantasies of leaving civilization for the woods and becoming a nature photographer. Seeking out critters of all sorts for the creation of pretty postcards. It was a perfect plan... and I was about to capture this rodent, or rabbit, or pica or whatever it was, on film.
Then my mom walked up behind me and the rodent made a blurred run for some cover. I think my mom was a little spooked, but I could tell from her voice she was concerned for me. Every time they looked at me, I could see it. They were gauging my reaction and my emotional state. I had to plaster a smile, or at least not frown or cry... I had to make them feel better.

I'm sure I could fall apart in front of them, they are family, but I've never done that. I take care of others. I always try to help others, make sure they are comfortable, find out what needs to be done and do it for them... That's how I cope when those I love are hurting. I've hidden my own hurts from most of the world, and just kept going. Wayne is one of the few people I've let see me cry, or would feel comfortable just falling apart in front of him. I sent him a text to let him know that, and focused on sleeping as my family traveled in the car to North Little Rock, where we stayed an extra night.

North Little Rock is like my childhood home. As a military brat, we never stayed any where long, but we always came back to Arkansas - for visits, to live between deployments, to bury our dead, and this time to celebrate new beginnings. And as we stopped at a sonic, I tried not to think of it as a place where some of my hopes and dreams died. Saturday morning, on the first crop duster plane, there was a child screaming bloody murder a few rows behind me... and I started to cry because I fear that child will never be my own. I mean, seriously, who wants a screaming child?

I felt like I was mourning something - but how can I grieve for something that never was. How did biology get me like this? For two decades I had decided to be the one who didn't have kids, who didn't have a husband, and who was content with herself. For some months I had managed to live that way... and then hope appeared in the form of Wayne. And now hope was dying... all these thoughts swirled in my mind and I knew I needed to rise above them - just as the plane rose above the clouds. So I pulled out my trusty iPod and put on music to lift me out of the bad mood... and closed my eyes... and willed myself to sleep until the plane landed.

This helped lighten my mood, so by the time the seemingly interminable hours of travel had passed, and I saw Wayne at the bottom of the escalator, I was able to control myself and keep from sprinting to him. This was good, since I would have taken out an entire family in the process (don't these people know to stand to the right so people can pass on the left? noobs). Seeing him, standing there, solid... holding me... hugging me, kissing me... I knew he was telling me the truth. I knew he would be with me through this, and no matter what size our future family would be, we would be family. And I knew everything would be okay. The stress started a slow leak, deflating the balloon that had grown in the pit of my stomach.

Pictures

Despite the news and the pall that cast on my trip to the Ozarks, I did take some pretty pictures, shared below.

Dive-bombed by a bird protecting its nest

Zebra Swallotail

Bet you didn't realize how close Paris and Havana were to each other

The Old Mill in North Little Rock, Arkansas (taken on my phone)

(taken on my phone)

Those shapes are turtles in the water (taken on my phone)

The News

    I was in what must be one of the most beautiful places on Earth, attending the most joyous of events, the wedding of my cousin. The phone reception was bad in the room, so when the doctor called I kept losing the signal and had to run outside before she called back. The Ozarks are beautiful, but cell phone reception is notoriously bad in the mountains. After several frustrating can-you-hear-me-nows I found a spot with three bars and tried to stand stock still... I was still standing stock still as she said “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but the pathology came back and you have endometrial cancer.”  You have endometrial cancer? Who is you?

    You know how you read about people getting the bad news about the big C and they don’t remember anything else, and you think, sure... that’s not possible... I wouldn’t be like that. I’m a rational human being, who understands that cancer is survivable in the modern world, there are brand new treatments... even cures for some cancers (albeit preemptive ones). But, there I was on the phone and I know I had a further conversation with the doctor. I even made a very special effort to remember the part where she said “we made an appointment with the oncologist for Wednesday...” though I don’t think I quite caught the time... I’m going to have to call to double check tomorrow. And I also know the answer to my hysterectomy question - yes, that is the most common treatment, but we can probably save the eggs and surrogacy could be an option.

The view, about half an hour before

I think I had stopped breathing about then. I don’t remember breathing again till I had texted my fiance three times (to work and his cell) telling him to call me immediately... then I just made the call once I found four bars. I know I was breathing then, because I was gasping through tears. I was acutely aware that I was standing (literally) on a cliff, and that there were wedding guests seated about fifteen feet behind me admiring the view and the simple yet elegant decor. I could hear the anguish in his voice as he repeated, “What is it Kate?” or something like that (his elephant memory probably remembers the words, I just felt the mountains and the clouds falling in on me and my entire being sucked into a single point in space). I finally choked out, “Ca...a..cancer... it’s cancer...” and then I covered my mouth to hide the sobs. Only that morning my text said, “This place is part of my blood. We will have to come here together and bring the kids when we have them.” How naive could I be?

I know we talked some after that... I know there was some promise made to call him after the wedding... because I had to get ready... I had to tell my family. I didn’t tell him how much I needed him at that moment. I didn’t say how much I wanted his arms around me and I didn’t know how I could make it three more days until I saw him again. I didn’t beg him to try and find me a flight home immediately, no matter the cost. I determined I would be strong, I would survive, and I would get through the wedding first. And then, after I hung up, it dawned on me...my wedding was exactly 2 weeks away... almost down to the exact minute. Then I started to feel ill. Those low level cramps ramped up to severe pain and nausea and I wandered the hotel in pain looking for my mother and sister.

I believe in a supreme deity, and I believe God works in mysterious ways, that sometimes are exactly as we need it to be. For the first time in at least a decade, my family was on a trip together - just my mom, dad and sister. No extras, no boyfriends, girlfriends, fiances, etc... just my core family. And so I found them and told them - mom and sister first - mid pool game. I think I could draw the pattern of the balls on the table, because that etched into my mind as my mother hugged me so tight, I thought I would never be able to break the hug. By the time I told them, I had googled the cancer and looked up the statistics... so I could tell them about the 95% survival rate for Stage I (at this point, I still don’t know what stage I am). I told my dad, and I hugged him and didn’t want to let go. And then we all got ready for the wedding.

I plastered on a smile, and sniffed back the tears. I was grateful for the setting sun and the outdoor wedding, which allowed me to hide behind my sunglasses. The ceremony was lovely and breathtaking, and I didn’t take a single picture. I sat with a niggling fear, and an overwhelming grief of what might be lost. I knew what I would ask W when I called him after work, and I didn’t know how I could choke that out. 

At the reception, I nearly ended up split from my family, and hit a tiny nuclear meltdown inside, immensely relieved when someone made an extra place for me next to my sister. She has the gift of gab and is a diva of small talk. I knew she could carry me through if my social skills failed. I managed to laugh politely and smile when it was appropriate. I ate the food, but it all tasted like cardboard. In fact, just about everything I’ve eaten since has tasted like cardboard - though every meal I feel I’m overeating nonetheless. Then Iz came on singing “It’s a wonderful world” (or was it the Armstrong version??) and it was 9 o’clock and I couldn’t take it anymore. Tears streamed down my face as I walked the impossibly long hallway to my room. I dialed and he didn’t answer the first time, but finally did on the second call. We spoke for fifteen minutes; I watched the clock. I asked him if he still wanted to marry me, and his happy laugh was the most welcome sound in the world. I was silly... he would be there... and I thought to myself I was silly. He had already been with me these past months as I suffered the symptoms, days when my energy flagged and I couldn’t leave the house for more than fifteen minutes at a time. He just wanted me well... and he had done research.

Wayne told me what he had read, much of it similar to things I had read, but in more detail. He had done nothing but google since I had got off the phone with him and gone incommunicado. I had just not wanted to text, and as I said, cell signals were atrocious. He had told his mother and a few friends at work, and one was coming over to drink a little with him now... could I call him back in half an hour? Sure... why not?

Back to the wedding. Back to avoiding answering questions about my own wedding. Suddenly I didn’t want a wedding at all (a marriage yes - just not the bother and hoopla of the public ceremony)... suddenly I couldn’t remember what details we had planned. Dodged and weaved and smiled politely some more and then was back in half an hour. I think my sister caught the bouquet, and some other funny moment had occurred, but it blurred... there was cake (I’m sure it was delicious but it was just cardboard to me), and then I was back on the phone.

I don’t know what we talked about, and I know he had indulged, but after the third conversation of the day, I felt slightly better. I decided to change and walk with my sister to a nearby cabin for the after party. There was laughter, and discussion of bugs versus beetles (there was a very passionate entomologist in attendance) and there was just enough vodka cranberry to make me feel like I might actually sleep.  Which I finally did at some point around one or two in the morning, after a few texts with my fiance - I love you more... no I love you most... nuh huh... yuh huh... kisses... and cuddles...