I know it's been a while... What can I say? I've been busy with things I'd rather not be busy with...
For Christmas, I'd like you all to know me better. This is my favourite TVshow of all time. Please watch. It's worth your time...
Give all of us gathered here tonight
The strength to remember that life is so very fragile.
We're all vulnerable.
And we will all, at some point in our lives, fall.
We will all fall.
We must carry this in our hearts,
That what we have is special.
That it can be taken from us.
And when it is taken from us,
We will be tested.
We will be tested to our very souls.
We will now all be tested.
It is these times,
It this pain,
That allows us to look inside ourselves.
Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose.
Much love,
Ash.
Sunday, 18 December 2011
Friday, 30 September 2011
Weekend Update
This weekend update does not come to you by Tina Fey. I wish.
It's three and a half weeks after my last chemo session and I'm finally feeling myself again. Like really myself again. The myself from before I knew I ever had cancer. I don't feel like I'm having "good days and bad days", but that I just feel like me again. Really, towards the end of chemo "good days" were more like "well, I'm not curled up in bed days, so that's a plus". It's awesome to have all this energy back. And just in time too. Lyla learned to walk about a week ago or so and I haven't been able to sit down since. I'm loving every second of it.
The reason for my delay in blogging is two fold: One, that last round of side effects was a doozy. I know I said I was all happy to be done 6+ months of chemo in 4, until it felt like, wow, I just got pounded with 6+ months of chemo in 4. The second reason is that I've started to repel technology. Sometime in the last few weeks our house computer's hard drive crashed, the monitor on my work lap top stopped working, and my blackberry won't send emails. Corey's off today for his annual chefs-at-large-in-the-woods weekend so I have the run of his lap top for a few days. It feels great to be plugged back in, but man do I have a lot to catch up on, and not much time to do it in.
This Sunday is the Run for the Cure! This will be my first run since I used to do the Sun Run in elementary school. Remember when you were young and just had so much energy that you didn't need to train for a 10K run?? Now I'm most likely going to be walking this little 5K number... how the mighty have fallen. Thanks to everyone for your support of Team Smashlyn. I'm especially thankful to my sister-in-law Jeannie and her friend Jodie who organized the whole thing, as well as to everyone who donated to our team. We were close to $3000 last time I checked. I am sincerely touched by it all.
After the run, it's sayonara to the sisters. Tuesday October 4th is my surgery date. I'll be the first surgery of the day, so hopefully I'll only be in hospital for one night. I'm not sure exactly how I feel about the upcoming surgery. I think I may have floated back into a bit of denial because it all seems surreal now. When I was diagnosed and they told me I had to wait for surgery, I was thinking, "ARE YOU CRAZY??? CUT IT OUT RIGHT NOW!!!" But I've been feeling so good these days that if it wasn't for the bald head, sparse eyebrows and the whopping 12 eyelashes I have left, I'd be able to forget I have cancer. I'm also somewhat feeling irrationally guilty over Righty. She never did anything wrong. Lefty was the traitor. Now they're both going. It somehow seems unfair...
So that's it for now. I just got my t-shirt for the run (i picked a survivor shirt by the way!) and I can't wait to get out there and be part of something so positive for a change. I'll let you know how it goes. Fingers crossed for good weather!
Much love,
Ashlyn
It's three and a half weeks after my last chemo session and I'm finally feeling myself again. Like really myself again. The myself from before I knew I ever had cancer. I don't feel like I'm having "good days and bad days", but that I just feel like me again. Really, towards the end of chemo "good days" were more like "well, I'm not curled up in bed days, so that's a plus". It's awesome to have all this energy back. And just in time too. Lyla learned to walk about a week ago or so and I haven't been able to sit down since. I'm loving every second of it.
The reason for my delay in blogging is two fold: One, that last round of side effects was a doozy. I know I said I was all happy to be done 6+ months of chemo in 4, until it felt like, wow, I just got pounded with 6+ months of chemo in 4. The second reason is that I've started to repel technology. Sometime in the last few weeks our house computer's hard drive crashed, the monitor on my work lap top stopped working, and my blackberry won't send emails. Corey's off today for his annual chefs-at-large-in-the-woods weekend so I have the run of his lap top for a few days. It feels great to be plugged back in, but man do I have a lot to catch up on, and not much time to do it in.
This Sunday is the Run for the Cure! This will be my first run since I used to do the Sun Run in elementary school. Remember when you were young and just had so much energy that you didn't need to train for a 10K run?? Now I'm most likely going to be walking this little 5K number... how the mighty have fallen. Thanks to everyone for your support of Team Smashlyn. I'm especially thankful to my sister-in-law Jeannie and her friend Jodie who organized the whole thing, as well as to everyone who donated to our team. We were close to $3000 last time I checked. I am sincerely touched by it all.
After the run, it's sayonara to the sisters. Tuesday October 4th is my surgery date. I'll be the first surgery of the day, so hopefully I'll only be in hospital for one night. I'm not sure exactly how I feel about the upcoming surgery. I think I may have floated back into a bit of denial because it all seems surreal now. When I was diagnosed and they told me I had to wait for surgery, I was thinking, "ARE YOU CRAZY??? CUT IT OUT RIGHT NOW!!!" But I've been feeling so good these days that if it wasn't for the bald head, sparse eyebrows and the whopping 12 eyelashes I have left, I'd be able to forget I have cancer. I'm also somewhat feeling irrationally guilty over Righty. She never did anything wrong. Lefty was the traitor. Now they're both going. It somehow seems unfair...
So that's it for now. I just got my t-shirt for the run (i picked a survivor shirt by the way!) and I can't wait to get out there and be part of something so positive for a change. I'll let you know how it goes. Fingers crossed for good weather!
Much love,
Ashlyn
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
It's Not Me, It's You!
I've had my last chemo session! Woot! When they told me my cancer was too advanced to wait three weeks between sessions and that I had to have it every two weeks instead, I was freaked out. But really, once I got a few sessions under my belt, I realized that chemo wasn't anything I needed to be afraid of. Don't get me wrong, chemo sucks. It's just not something to fear. It was very obviously working and now that I'm at the finish line, I'm so thankful that my case got me here in just over four months rather than six. I know I still have a few more bad days ahead of me, but frankly I just don't care. I'm finished chemo! Eat it cancer.
Next up: Surgery. I'll be getting a bi-lateral mastectomy and I'm meeting with my plastic surgeon today to discuss reconstruction. I know that getting radiation affects what they'll do in surgery, but I'm not sure to what extent. It'll be great to get those answers because, well, knowing is half the battle (Go Joe!).
I can't begin to tell you all how great these last few weeks have been for me. The love that's getting sent my way for finishing chemo is unreal. I think my Facebook notification broke yesterday from overuse. Well, really the love I've been getting this whole time is ridiculous. For example, my ten year old niece had a $5 and $10 birthday party this year. The idea is you bring a 5 dollar bill for the birthday girl and a 10 dollar bill for a cause of her choice. She chose to give the money to me so I can spend it at the naturopath. Are you crying yet??
I've been sent more cards, letters and books than I know what to do with. There's been countless offers to babysit and just recently another offer to use a friend's cabin for some down time. Someone's also just sent me a subscription to People Magazine and no one's owned up to it! WHO ARE YOU?? I love it! I love a magazine that I can actually complete the crossword puzzle in pen :) And just yesterday I got the greatest package sent to me from work. Inside were gift certificates, more than 200 donated personal assistant points, a beautiful card, and then a link to a 10 minute video they put together for me full of well wishes. They were from my fellow recruiters, team members I had hired, managers I've worked with, and all of them friends. I had to watch it more than once because I bawled through it the first time (happy tears I promise!) Liking your job and loving the people you work with is like winning the lottery. Who knew cancer could make a girl feel so lucky??
People keep telling me I'm handling this so well. That they love my positivity and strength and so on and so on. But listen here people, it's all because of you! Look at the kind of people I'm surrounded with. It's like the "It's not you, it's me" cliche in reverse. I had myself a nice little Sunday Funday on the Joe Fortes patio this weekend with my best girl friends (Dave, that includes you!) and Lord, did I feel lucky. I live a really good life. There's been some bad times these past few months, but hey, I've been through worse. Not everyone gets a fighting chance. Not everyone is surrounded by the best family, friends and colleagues there are to find. Every time I'm at the cancer agency there are people who are all alone. People without rides, and no one to sit with them. And I know there are people who abandon, or worse yet mistreat people they know with cancer. I can't even fathom a scenario like that because of all of you. You have all been a part of my fight. Please accept my sincerest thanks.
With much love,
Ashlyn
Next up: Surgery. I'll be getting a bi-lateral mastectomy and I'm meeting with my plastic surgeon today to discuss reconstruction. I know that getting radiation affects what they'll do in surgery, but I'm not sure to what extent. It'll be great to get those answers because, well, knowing is half the battle (Go Joe!).
I can't begin to tell you all how great these last few weeks have been for me. The love that's getting sent my way for finishing chemo is unreal. I think my Facebook notification broke yesterday from overuse. Well, really the love I've been getting this whole time is ridiculous. For example, my ten year old niece had a $5 and $10 birthday party this year. The idea is you bring a 5 dollar bill for the birthday girl and a 10 dollar bill for a cause of her choice. She chose to give the money to me so I can spend it at the naturopath. Are you crying yet??
I've been sent more cards, letters and books than I know what to do with. There's been countless offers to babysit and just recently another offer to use a friend's cabin for some down time. Someone's also just sent me a subscription to People Magazine and no one's owned up to it! WHO ARE YOU?? I love it! I love a magazine that I can actually complete the crossword puzzle in pen :) And just yesterday I got the greatest package sent to me from work. Inside were gift certificates, more than 200 donated personal assistant points, a beautiful card, and then a link to a 10 minute video they put together for me full of well wishes. They were from my fellow recruiters, team members I had hired, managers I've worked with, and all of them friends. I had to watch it more than once because I bawled through it the first time (happy tears I promise!) Liking your job and loving the people you work with is like winning the lottery. Who knew cancer could make a girl feel so lucky??
People keep telling me I'm handling this so well. That they love my positivity and strength and so on and so on. But listen here people, it's all because of you! Look at the kind of people I'm surrounded with. It's like the "It's not you, it's me" cliche in reverse. I had myself a nice little Sunday Funday on the Joe Fortes patio this weekend with my best girl friends (Dave, that includes you!) and Lord, did I feel lucky. I live a really good life. There's been some bad times these past few months, but hey, I've been through worse. Not everyone gets a fighting chance. Not everyone is surrounded by the best family, friends and colleagues there are to find. Every time I'm at the cancer agency there are people who are all alone. People without rides, and no one to sit with them. And I know there are people who abandon, or worse yet mistreat people they know with cancer. I can't even fathom a scenario like that because of all of you. You have all been a part of my fight. Please accept my sincerest thanks.
With much love,
Ashlyn
Monday, 22 August 2011
Not Just a River in Egypt
Happy Chemo Day!
Today will be treatment #7. Chemo days don't make me anxious anymore. In fact, today I'm looking forward to the nap I'm going to get. That's about all I'm looking forward to though. I was not amongst the happy 50% of people that Gabapentin works for. The joint and bone pain wasn't any worse in severity, just more constant and lasted a full week. I know what I'm in for, and I'm not looking forward to it.
I'll just go ahead and tell you that it's depressing to be in pain for that length of time. By day three of no help from the drugs I was a sorry sap of a human being. I finally felt like I was a sick person. It's a hard feeling to avoid when you're too exhausted to do anything about your appearance and you keep catching glimpses of yourself in mirrors around the house. There were a lot of, "How is this my life?!?!" moments that week. So one night I finally admitted to Corey that I felt like a cancer patient. "Oh honey, no you're not". Uh, ya actually, I am. That was the worst I've felt in a long time. I sat in bed and had a good long cry about it.
Don't worry, I got over myself pretty quickly. Any woman reading this knows how cathartic a good cry can be. Actually one time I felt my friend Susan needed a good cry, but I knew she just wasn't a cry to her friends kind of girl. I also knew she'd never seen Steel Magnolias. So I recommended it as a good chick flick and giggled to myself all night just knowing that it would get her to bawl her little head off. Wow, that sounds cruel doesn't it?? Don't start yelling at me, she loved it! I actually called her halfway through the movie and she answered the phone, "What is WRONG with you???? This is the worst movie EVER!" I couldn't help myself, I was laughing so hard, "But you love it right?" Ya she did. Best cry she'd had in a good long time. You see, Steel Magnolias is to women what Rudy is to men. If you don't tear up when Sally Field has her breakdown post funeral or when Rudy finally rushes out onto the field then I'm pretty sure there's something wrong with you. But I digress.
That little anecdote was just to remind you not to feel sorry for me for having a bad night. I needed it. I needed to get good and emotionally exhausted so I could finally have a solid night's sleep. And I suppose I also needed to come out of the denial phase of this journey. I do have cancer. That nagging little feeling I had that kept telling me I wasn't taking this seriously enough? It knew I was still at least partially in denial and that needed to change.
How could I be this far into my treatment and still be in denial, you ask? Well, the thing about "active chemotherapy" is that it can be a very passive experience. You just sit there and take it. You curl up and take the nausea. You do whatever you can to handle the pain. Plus the doctor's orders to not overdo it on anything diet wise lulled me into this place where I didn't feel like cancer had really changed my life all that much. But I know that it needs to.
I learned a long time ago that denial serves a very real purpose. When you're world gets turned upside down, first shock, then denial that anything has changed, allows you to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. So thanks Denial, it's been a slice, but I'm ready to move on. I'm ready to accept that my life has been forever changed and that I need to make some changes because of that. It's good timing really. With chemo ending soon, I can start making plans. I like making plans. I may not like the plan, but I like making it. I've got about a month before I head to the naturopath. That's probably how long it's going to take me to figure out how I'm going to make adding kale to my smoothies taste good...
Time to head to chemo. Seven down, one to go!
Much love,
Ashlyn
Today will be treatment #7. Chemo days don't make me anxious anymore. In fact, today I'm looking forward to the nap I'm going to get. That's about all I'm looking forward to though. I was not amongst the happy 50% of people that Gabapentin works for. The joint and bone pain wasn't any worse in severity, just more constant and lasted a full week. I know what I'm in for, and I'm not looking forward to it.
I'll just go ahead and tell you that it's depressing to be in pain for that length of time. By day three of no help from the drugs I was a sorry sap of a human being. I finally felt like I was a sick person. It's a hard feeling to avoid when you're too exhausted to do anything about your appearance and you keep catching glimpses of yourself in mirrors around the house. There were a lot of, "How is this my life?!?!" moments that week. So one night I finally admitted to Corey that I felt like a cancer patient. "Oh honey, no you're not". Uh, ya actually, I am. That was the worst I've felt in a long time. I sat in bed and had a good long cry about it.
Don't worry, I got over myself pretty quickly. Any woman reading this knows how cathartic a good cry can be. Actually one time I felt my friend Susan needed a good cry, but I knew she just wasn't a cry to her friends kind of girl. I also knew she'd never seen Steel Magnolias. So I recommended it as a good chick flick and giggled to myself all night just knowing that it would get her to bawl her little head off. Wow, that sounds cruel doesn't it?? Don't start yelling at me, she loved it! I actually called her halfway through the movie and she answered the phone, "What is WRONG with you???? This is the worst movie EVER!" I couldn't help myself, I was laughing so hard, "But you love it right?" Ya she did. Best cry she'd had in a good long time. You see, Steel Magnolias is to women what Rudy is to men. If you don't tear up when Sally Field has her breakdown post funeral or when Rudy finally rushes out onto the field then I'm pretty sure there's something wrong with you. But I digress.
That little anecdote was just to remind you not to feel sorry for me for having a bad night. I needed it. I needed to get good and emotionally exhausted so I could finally have a solid night's sleep. And I suppose I also needed to come out of the denial phase of this journey. I do have cancer. That nagging little feeling I had that kept telling me I wasn't taking this seriously enough? It knew I was still at least partially in denial and that needed to change.
How could I be this far into my treatment and still be in denial, you ask? Well, the thing about "active chemotherapy" is that it can be a very passive experience. You just sit there and take it. You curl up and take the nausea. You do whatever you can to handle the pain. Plus the doctor's orders to not overdo it on anything diet wise lulled me into this place where I didn't feel like cancer had really changed my life all that much. But I know that it needs to.
I learned a long time ago that denial serves a very real purpose. When you're world gets turned upside down, first shock, then denial that anything has changed, allows you to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. So thanks Denial, it's been a slice, but I'm ready to move on. I'm ready to accept that my life has been forever changed and that I need to make some changes because of that. It's good timing really. With chemo ending soon, I can start making plans. I like making plans. I may not like the plan, but I like making it. I've got about a month before I head to the naturopath. That's probably how long it's going to take me to figure out how I'm going to make adding kale to my smoothies taste good...
Time to head to chemo. Seven down, one to go!
Much love,
Ashlyn
Tuesday, 9 August 2011
The Taxol Effect
6 down, 2 to go!
Yesterday was chemo day. It was the second treatment of the Paclitaxol. It was also Lyla's first birthday. Talk about not exactly what I wanted to be doing yesterday. I'm always the youngest person I see in the chemo wing of the BCCA - although I happen to personally know someone else my age and someone even younger both going through this as well. I wonder if they get the pity stares as well. The pity stares force me to act almost bubbly in the chemo unit. Like I need to demonstrate to these people, hey don't worry about me, I'm fine! Most of the time I am fine. Like I said at the beginning, I've put a lot of faith in that chemo is what works best against my particular kind of cancer. So although I don't necessarily love going, I do feel like I take it in stride... needle-poking, pity stares and all. The only time the stares get to me is when other patients hear that I have a young child at home. They somehow think that it makes me even more pitiable. Honestly, nothing could be further from the truth. I don't know how anyone else goes through this without a baby at home. I'm just going to go ahead and be a braggy mom here, but my baby is the best! She's so deliciously cute, is almost always happy, doesn't make strange around new people and is a constant source of laughter for me being the total goof ball that she is. Because of her I don't have the time or the cause to feel sorry for myself. She's my therapy and support group all-in-one. Well, she better be, because she's also the reason I don't have time to go to any of those things, not to mention blogging...
But back to yesterday. I got the biggest pity look of all from my nurse when I told her it was my daughter's birthday. And for the first time I just went ahead and joined her and gave myself a moment to feel good and sorry for myself. Her training kicked in mighty quick though and got me talking about the good stuff, so thankfully my Debbie Downer moment didn't last too long.
So on to the latest news in Ashlyn's cancer journey. The first round of Taxol started off really well. Awesome actually. The main worry about this stuff is having an allergic reaction to it. So before they get started with the chemo, they give me a whopping dose of Dexamethazone (steroids) and then an even bigger dose of Benadryl by IV drip. Thanks to the Benadryl I slept through the entire treatment. All 4 hours of it. That was the best nap I've had in YEARS! Corey kept having to readjust my head because I was so out it and slack jawed that I was snoring up a storm for the rest of the chemo patients to hear. I was way too groggy to feel embarrassed about it when I woke up, so score 1 for the Taxol treatments, this was going to be a cake walk.
Day 2 was great. It was such a relief not to have any nausea. I had been getting really good at recognizing the early signs of nausea from the first four treatments, and got it front of it as they say, but it was awesome not to have to be taking a bunch of pills all day long. Day 3 started off much the same, and summer had finally showed up in Vancouver so I was pretty much in the best mood ever. Chemo-schmemo. I laugh in the face of chemo. Muah ha ha ha. Then having written off the chemo effects in my life, at dinner I legitimately couldn't figure out why it felt like I'd run a marathon. What was up with these shin splints? And why are my knees on FIRE???
Dear chemo gods,
I TAKE IT BACK!! I TAKE IT ALL BACK! I wasn't laughing AT you, I was laughing WITH you. K???
Be nice please. Did I mention I have a baby girl at home? (ya that's right, I'm now using my daughter to induce pity from the heathen chemo gods)
Respectfully yours,
Ashlyn
Well, just like most of my letters to cancer, this one fell on deaf ears. I wanted to avoid ever getting too preachy about getting everyone to start living healthier, (for example, eat your greens or you WILL get cancer!!) but I've just had a sneak peak of some serious arthritis and osteoporosis pain. So start taking your calcium people, because honestly that pain is the WORST! My knees took the brunt of the constant intense aches and it felt like the worst shin splints I've ever had. It was like a non-stop game of roulette with the rest off my bones and joints. Spin the wheel, bang! Intense wrist pain. Bang! There goes my toes. Ankles, Hips. Knees, knees, knees, knees, knees. I couldn't get more than an hour of sleep with these intense bone attacks. When the Aleve didn't work, it was off to my narc drawer. Tylenol 3's didn't come close to helping. One oxycodone, nope. Two oxycodone? Still nothing. Two oxycodone plus an oxycontin? Well, at least I fell asleep with that cocktail, but 2 hours later, nope! This went on from Wednesday night through Saturday. By Sunday I was better but seriously considering asking to go back to the first kind of chemo. I'll take the nausea over this.
I had my check up last Thursday and the shrinking has started again, not as drastic as the first round, but some shrinkage nonetheless. Now we're dealing with a mass of about 4.3cmx3.2cm. So there will be no going back to the first stuff. Instead my doc has prescribed something called Gabapentin to take preventatively that helps with the pain in about 50% of chemo patients. I guess I'll just have to take those odds.
So fingers crossed for me please on this one. If the new meds work, I can sail through this, then it's only 2 left and I have an entire month break before I have to have surgery. I can see the light at the end of my chemo tunnel. Thanks again to everyone who have been seeing me through this.
As always, much love,
Ashlyn
Yesterday was chemo day. It was the second treatment of the Paclitaxol. It was also Lyla's first birthday. Talk about not exactly what I wanted to be doing yesterday. I'm always the youngest person I see in the chemo wing of the BCCA - although I happen to personally know someone else my age and someone even younger both going through this as well. I wonder if they get the pity stares as well. The pity stares force me to act almost bubbly in the chemo unit. Like I need to demonstrate to these people, hey don't worry about me, I'm fine! Most of the time I am fine. Like I said at the beginning, I've put a lot of faith in that chemo is what works best against my particular kind of cancer. So although I don't necessarily love going, I do feel like I take it in stride... needle-poking, pity stares and all. The only time the stares get to me is when other patients hear that I have a young child at home. They somehow think that it makes me even more pitiable. Honestly, nothing could be further from the truth. I don't know how anyone else goes through this without a baby at home. I'm just going to go ahead and be a braggy mom here, but my baby is the best! She's so deliciously cute, is almost always happy, doesn't make strange around new people and is a constant source of laughter for me being the total goof ball that she is. Because of her I don't have the time or the cause to feel sorry for myself. She's my therapy and support group all-in-one. Well, she better be, because she's also the reason I don't have time to go to any of those things, not to mention blogging...
But back to yesterday. I got the biggest pity look of all from my nurse when I told her it was my daughter's birthday. And for the first time I just went ahead and joined her and gave myself a moment to feel good and sorry for myself. Her training kicked in mighty quick though and got me talking about the good stuff, so thankfully my Debbie Downer moment didn't last too long.
So on to the latest news in Ashlyn's cancer journey. The first round of Taxol started off really well. Awesome actually. The main worry about this stuff is having an allergic reaction to it. So before they get started with the chemo, they give me a whopping dose of Dexamethazone (steroids) and then an even bigger dose of Benadryl by IV drip. Thanks to the Benadryl I slept through the entire treatment. All 4 hours of it. That was the best nap I've had in YEARS! Corey kept having to readjust my head because I was so out it and slack jawed that I was snoring up a storm for the rest of the chemo patients to hear. I was way too groggy to feel embarrassed about it when I woke up, so score 1 for the Taxol treatments, this was going to be a cake walk.
Day 2 was great. It was such a relief not to have any nausea. I had been getting really good at recognizing the early signs of nausea from the first four treatments, and got it front of it as they say, but it was awesome not to have to be taking a bunch of pills all day long. Day 3 started off much the same, and summer had finally showed up in Vancouver so I was pretty much in the best mood ever. Chemo-schmemo. I laugh in the face of chemo. Muah ha ha ha. Then having written off the chemo effects in my life, at dinner I legitimately couldn't figure out why it felt like I'd run a marathon. What was up with these shin splints? And why are my knees on FIRE???
Dear chemo gods,
I TAKE IT BACK!! I TAKE IT ALL BACK! I wasn't laughing AT you, I was laughing WITH you. K???
Be nice please. Did I mention I have a baby girl at home? (ya that's right, I'm now using my daughter to induce pity from the heathen chemo gods)
Respectfully yours,
Ashlyn
Well, just like most of my letters to cancer, this one fell on deaf ears. I wanted to avoid ever getting too preachy about getting everyone to start living healthier, (for example, eat your greens or you WILL get cancer!!) but I've just had a sneak peak of some serious arthritis and osteoporosis pain. So start taking your calcium people, because honestly that pain is the WORST! My knees took the brunt of the constant intense aches and it felt like the worst shin splints I've ever had. It was like a non-stop game of roulette with the rest off my bones and joints. Spin the wheel, bang! Intense wrist pain. Bang! There goes my toes. Ankles, Hips. Knees, knees, knees, knees, knees. I couldn't get more than an hour of sleep with these intense bone attacks. When the Aleve didn't work, it was off to my narc drawer. Tylenol 3's didn't come close to helping. One oxycodone, nope. Two oxycodone? Still nothing. Two oxycodone plus an oxycontin? Well, at least I fell asleep with that cocktail, but 2 hours later, nope! This went on from Wednesday night through Saturday. By Sunday I was better but seriously considering asking to go back to the first kind of chemo. I'll take the nausea over this.
I had my check up last Thursday and the shrinking has started again, not as drastic as the first round, but some shrinkage nonetheless. Now we're dealing with a mass of about 4.3cmx3.2cm. So there will be no going back to the first stuff. Instead my doc has prescribed something called Gabapentin to take preventatively that helps with the pain in about 50% of chemo patients. I guess I'll just have to take those odds.
So fingers crossed for me please on this one. If the new meds work, I can sail through this, then it's only 2 left and I have an entire month break before I have to have surgery. I can see the light at the end of my chemo tunnel. Thanks again to everyone who have been seeing me through this.
As always, much love,
Ashlyn
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Just Keep Swimming
5 down, 3 to go. Lord does it feel good to be on the back 9.
It seems like forever since my last post. A lot has happened in the last 2 weeks, some great, some not so great. Let's start off with the great, shall we? I'm still amazed at how many people are reaching out to me. Every week I'm getting cards in the mail and friends are dropping off books and bath salts. One of our closest friend's mom even invited us up to her cabin for the weekend because she knew we needed a break. It was so thoughtful to offer us a chance to get out of the city. We spent the weekend in the most idyllic setting. This cabin isn't so much a cabin as it is a 4 bedroom house right on a lake. And it's not exactly roughing it when you're traveling with 2 honest to goodness Chefs. Also, our friend's older daughters were with us so we had live in babysitters for Lyla all weekend long. I can honestly say it was the first time I've felt really relaxed since all of this started. I treated myself to some wine and had good long chats with one of my closest girlfriends, hung out in the sun with all the kids, sat in the shade and read my book. It was such a nice break to be outside of the walls that more and more remind me of being sick.
The timing couldn't have been more perfect. I'd had a rough week news-wise at the cancer agency. First it started with my consultation with my radiation oncologist. He was a perfectly nice man, spent a generous amount of time with me, and answered all of my questions. He was also dire. There's no other way to describe it. It felt like such a long time since I'd met a new doctor who was reviewing my file for the first time. There were too many sad looks, too many sympathetic nods. At one point when we were going over all the side effects he told me that although some are potentially quite serious (another cancer for example) that in my case I simply didn't have a choice. Radiation is "necessary for my survival" were his exact words.
Now I'm not sure if this falls into "Am I not taking this seriously enough?" category, but the term "survival" seemed a bit drastic to me. Was that in question?? And by the way, I didn't need the hard sell. I know there are a lot of people who, for very different reasons, refuse treatments. I'm not one of them. Can someone please update my chart with "Patient believes in modern medicine - no need for scare tactics"?!?! I was still busy absorbing this sentence when we got to the physical exam. More serious eyes and nods. He honed in right on the thing that still worries me the most and reminded me that we're still dealing with something over 5cm and that we're halfway through chemo. So he tells me that he's ordering not 4 weeks of radiation, but 6 and a half weeks instead. That's all the way through December...
Dear Cancer,
Apparently you don't respond well to polite letters. F.U. then.
Ashlyn
So needless to say, I was already bummed out when I went back to my medical oncologist the very next day for my regularly scheduled check up. He brought out his fancy measuring device and there was no more shrinkage. He reassured me that's why it was already planned to switch things up. Often times people can plateau on one kind of chemo or another. Ok fine. But could I please plateau with maybe just 1 cm left, not 5?
Don't get me wrong. I know no one's handed me a death sentence or anything. And like I keep telling myself, things could be a lot worse. But I have to say, I was getting used to the good news. I handled the first four rounds of chemo like a champ. I was, and still am, encouraged by how much progress we'd made. Then suddenly, I'm right back at the beginning. Back in the office of a doctor that doesn't know me, and hearing all the information of my case that reminds me that my diagnosis was serious - serious as cancer.
So off I went for my first round of the new cocktail today, feeling nervous yet resigned. The only other woman in the room with me still had all her hair and her shiny new folder stuffed with dozens of pamphlets. It instantly reminded me of that moment you get at work after being in a new job for a while. That conference call when all of a sudden you realize that the balance of experience has shifted. I love it when I go from being the person with all of the questions to the person who can answer them. I looked at this woman who, to her credit, looked like she was taking this all in stride, and felt like saying, "Ask away". Instead I just smiled and wished her luck when she left. She was alone in the room and I didn't want to run the risk of upsetting her. And then, once again, I felt so lucky to have Corey with me. I've felt a lot of things during the last few months. Alone isn't one of them.
So thanks again to everyone for coming on this ride with me. It makes it a lot easier to fight the lows and the bad news when I know I've got so many people in my corner.It's because of all this support that I find the energy to swim upstream. I'm feeling hopeful about the new plateau fighting chemo I've just started. I'll be sure to let you all know how it goes.
Much love,
Ashlyn
It seems like forever since my last post. A lot has happened in the last 2 weeks, some great, some not so great. Let's start off with the great, shall we? I'm still amazed at how many people are reaching out to me. Every week I'm getting cards in the mail and friends are dropping off books and bath salts. One of our closest friend's mom even invited us up to her cabin for the weekend because she knew we needed a break. It was so thoughtful to offer us a chance to get out of the city. We spent the weekend in the most idyllic setting. This cabin isn't so much a cabin as it is a 4 bedroom house right on a lake. And it's not exactly roughing it when you're traveling with 2 honest to goodness Chefs. Also, our friend's older daughters were with us so we had live in babysitters for Lyla all weekend long. I can honestly say it was the first time I've felt really relaxed since all of this started. I treated myself to some wine and had good long chats with one of my closest girlfriends, hung out in the sun with all the kids, sat in the shade and read my book. It was such a nice break to be outside of the walls that more and more remind me of being sick.
The timing couldn't have been more perfect. I'd had a rough week news-wise at the cancer agency. First it started with my consultation with my radiation oncologist. He was a perfectly nice man, spent a generous amount of time with me, and answered all of my questions. He was also dire. There's no other way to describe it. It felt like such a long time since I'd met a new doctor who was reviewing my file for the first time. There were too many sad looks, too many sympathetic nods. At one point when we were going over all the side effects he told me that although some are potentially quite serious (another cancer for example) that in my case I simply didn't have a choice. Radiation is "necessary for my survival" were his exact words.
Now I'm not sure if this falls into "Am I not taking this seriously enough?" category, but the term "survival" seemed a bit drastic to me. Was that in question?? And by the way, I didn't need the hard sell. I know there are a lot of people who, for very different reasons, refuse treatments. I'm not one of them. Can someone please update my chart with "Patient believes in modern medicine - no need for scare tactics"?!?! I was still busy absorbing this sentence when we got to the physical exam. More serious eyes and nods. He honed in right on the thing that still worries me the most and reminded me that we're still dealing with something over 5cm and that we're halfway through chemo. So he tells me that he's ordering not 4 weeks of radiation, but 6 and a half weeks instead. That's all the way through December...
Dear Cancer,
Apparently you don't respond well to polite letters. F.U. then.
Ashlyn
So needless to say, I was already bummed out when I went back to my medical oncologist the very next day for my regularly scheduled check up. He brought out his fancy measuring device and there was no more shrinkage. He reassured me that's why it was already planned to switch things up. Often times people can plateau on one kind of chemo or another. Ok fine. But could I please plateau with maybe just 1 cm left, not 5?
Don't get me wrong. I know no one's handed me a death sentence or anything. And like I keep telling myself, things could be a lot worse. But I have to say, I was getting used to the good news. I handled the first four rounds of chemo like a champ. I was, and still am, encouraged by how much progress we'd made. Then suddenly, I'm right back at the beginning. Back in the office of a doctor that doesn't know me, and hearing all the information of my case that reminds me that my diagnosis was serious - serious as cancer.
So off I went for my first round of the new cocktail today, feeling nervous yet resigned. The only other woman in the room with me still had all her hair and her shiny new folder stuffed with dozens of pamphlets. It instantly reminded me of that moment you get at work after being in a new job for a while. That conference call when all of a sudden you realize that the balance of experience has shifted. I love it when I go from being the person with all of the questions to the person who can answer them. I looked at this woman who, to her credit, looked like she was taking this all in stride, and felt like saying, "Ask away". Instead I just smiled and wished her luck when she left. She was alone in the room and I didn't want to run the risk of upsetting her. And then, once again, I felt so lucky to have Corey with me. I've felt a lot of things during the last few months. Alone isn't one of them.
So thanks again to everyone for coming on this ride with me. It makes it a lot easier to fight the lows and the bad news when I know I've got so many people in my corner.It's because of all this support that I find the energy to swim upstream. I'm feeling hopeful about the new plateau fighting chemo I've just started. I'll be sure to let you all know how it goes.
Much love,
Ashlyn
Monday, 11 July 2011
Twas The Night Before Chemo
I never sleep well before Chemo Day. So instead of lying in bed and tossing and turning I thought I would just get up and write about all of the things keeping me awake.
When I was diagnosed I had to compartmentalize in a big way. The things I couldn't deal with at the time got locked away. Today one of the biggest things got unlocked. I spent the day with some of my favourite girl friends. All of them started as work friends but they've all become forever friends. Two of them are in town from Toronto so I hadn't seen them since I started treatment. There's something so comforting about friends that you can just slip into a conversation with like they've never left. They're the people who don't look at you any different because you're sick and you can still get to the important stuff - like admiring Michaela's new purse - out of the way before getting to the cancer talk. To them, I'm still Ash, not Cancer Girl.
We had a great lunch at Sandbar over some great girl talk. At one point in the conversation we start talking about the big C and I mentioned that one of the hardest things I had to face was telling my best friends. Susan, who was there, retold the story of how I told her and our other BFF Alyssa. We were all a crying mess that day and then found ourselves at Cactus Club ordering wine. See? I told you, with good friends, some things not even cancer can change. Anyhow, like I said, telling those two girls was unspeakably hard. I had so much anxiety over it. There was still so much I was unsure of. I was terrified and at the same time didn't want to worry anyone. I was so stressed that I wasn't eating or sleeping. So I compartmentalized. When they asked what they could do to help I asked them to tell the rest of our friends. It was too much for me and I just couldn't go through it over and over again. With that off my plate, I locked away all those worries away and let them deal with it.
I knew it was a lot to ask, but it wasn't until today that I really appreciated it. After Susan retold our story, Michaela talked about having to hear it from Susan. And then how Tiff had to hear it from Michaela. And how everyone cried. Why was I surprised to hear that? It's bad news. Of course my friends were going to be upset. But it genuinely did shock me. And then I realized just how good of a job I'd done at locking those thoughts away. Everything I couldn't bare to put myself through, my friends had to go through anyways. I spent the rest of my afternoon sort of baffled at the realization of just how many people are being affected by this. Don't get me wrong, it's so nice to know that people care, but it's also so hard to know that you are the cause of their worry.
What else have I not been considering? When I started this blog I made the decision to stay positive, update my loved ones here when I had some spare time, and the rest of my focus was going to Lyla. She has been the best distraction for me. There are days where I'm so busy with her that I don't give cancer a second thought. I'm now wondering if that was the right thing to do. Is staying positive enough? Is distracting myself the same thing as ignoring the problem? I've done a little research on diet and complimentary therapies, but I know I've barely scratched the surface. Am I taking this seriously enough? I know I'm just supposed to sit tight and let the chemo do its thing for now, but shouldn't I be doing more?? I know that cancer has changed my life forever. But what have I changed? To be honest, not much.
And now that those floodgates have opened, I find I'm right back in those early days again where I'm frightened and not sure exactly what to do about it. I had my check up on Friday and even though this thing has shrunk to 4.5cm x 5.5cm (that's half!), all I'm thinking about at this very moment, is "shit, that's still huge". This thing started off HUGE. And here I am, all of a sudden actually looking forward to tomorrow's chemo session.
Why does to the urge to spring into action have to come after midnight?? I actually can't help but laugh at myself right now. I don't know how many times I've said "Diet starts on Monday", but this time I swear I mean it! See ya later sugar. Beating cancer is a way better motivator than wanting to squeeze into an old pair of jeans, so I'm feeling pretty good about getting things started tomorrow. And yoga too! I'm starting yoga (again). Hold me to it people. Peer pressure me on facebook. I thrive on encouragement. You've all asked how you can help. That's how. Bring on the healthy living advice!
And to the first people who asked how they could help, let me take this moment to thank you. Thank you so much to my girls who were given the job of having to spread this crappy news. Thank you so much to all my friends that didn't take it personally when I just couldn't deal with calling you all personally to deliver this crappy news. And thank you so much to everyone who continues to understand that it takes me forever to return a phone call or email.
Ah. I already feel better having that off my chest and a rough plan in place. I know that No Sugar/Do Yoga may not seem like much, but hey it's a start. Wish me luck.
Much love,
Ashlyn
When I was diagnosed I had to compartmentalize in a big way. The things I couldn't deal with at the time got locked away. Today one of the biggest things got unlocked. I spent the day with some of my favourite girl friends. All of them started as work friends but they've all become forever friends. Two of them are in town from Toronto so I hadn't seen them since I started treatment. There's something so comforting about friends that you can just slip into a conversation with like they've never left. They're the people who don't look at you any different because you're sick and you can still get to the important stuff - like admiring Michaela's new purse - out of the way before getting to the cancer talk. To them, I'm still Ash, not Cancer Girl.
We had a great lunch at Sandbar over some great girl talk. At one point in the conversation we start talking about the big C and I mentioned that one of the hardest things I had to face was telling my best friends. Susan, who was there, retold the story of how I told her and our other BFF Alyssa. We were all a crying mess that day and then found ourselves at Cactus Club ordering wine. See? I told you, with good friends, some things not even cancer can change. Anyhow, like I said, telling those two girls was unspeakably hard. I had so much anxiety over it. There was still so much I was unsure of. I was terrified and at the same time didn't want to worry anyone. I was so stressed that I wasn't eating or sleeping. So I compartmentalized. When they asked what they could do to help I asked them to tell the rest of our friends. It was too much for me and I just couldn't go through it over and over again. With that off my plate, I locked away all those worries away and let them deal with it.
I knew it was a lot to ask, but it wasn't until today that I really appreciated it. After Susan retold our story, Michaela talked about having to hear it from Susan. And then how Tiff had to hear it from Michaela. And how everyone cried. Why was I surprised to hear that? It's bad news. Of course my friends were going to be upset. But it genuinely did shock me. And then I realized just how good of a job I'd done at locking those thoughts away. Everything I couldn't bare to put myself through, my friends had to go through anyways. I spent the rest of my afternoon sort of baffled at the realization of just how many people are being affected by this. Don't get me wrong, it's so nice to know that people care, but it's also so hard to know that you are the cause of their worry.
What else have I not been considering? When I started this blog I made the decision to stay positive, update my loved ones here when I had some spare time, and the rest of my focus was going to Lyla. She has been the best distraction for me. There are days where I'm so busy with her that I don't give cancer a second thought. I'm now wondering if that was the right thing to do. Is staying positive enough? Is distracting myself the same thing as ignoring the problem? I've done a little research on diet and complimentary therapies, but I know I've barely scratched the surface. Am I taking this seriously enough? I know I'm just supposed to sit tight and let the chemo do its thing for now, but shouldn't I be doing more?? I know that cancer has changed my life forever. But what have I changed? To be honest, not much.
And now that those floodgates have opened, I find I'm right back in those early days again where I'm frightened and not sure exactly what to do about it. I had my check up on Friday and even though this thing has shrunk to 4.5cm x 5.5cm (that's half!), all I'm thinking about at this very moment, is "shit, that's still huge". This thing started off HUGE. And here I am, all of a sudden actually looking forward to tomorrow's chemo session.
Why does to the urge to spring into action have to come after midnight?? I actually can't help but laugh at myself right now. I don't know how many times I've said "Diet starts on Monday", but this time I swear I mean it! See ya later sugar. Beating cancer is a way better motivator than wanting to squeeze into an old pair of jeans, so I'm feeling pretty good about getting things started tomorrow. And yoga too! I'm starting yoga (again). Hold me to it people. Peer pressure me on facebook. I thrive on encouragement. You've all asked how you can help. That's how. Bring on the healthy living advice!
And to the first people who asked how they could help, let me take this moment to thank you. Thank you so much to my girls who were given the job of having to spread this crappy news. Thank you so much to all my friends that didn't take it personally when I just couldn't deal with calling you all personally to deliver this crappy news. And thank you so much to everyone who continues to understand that it takes me forever to return a phone call or email.
Ah. I already feel better having that off my chest and a rough plan in place. I know that No Sugar/Do Yoga may not seem like much, but hey it's a start. Wish me luck.
Much love,
Ashlyn
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