Did You Ever Think Life Was Gonna Be This Way?

It occurred to me as I was reading through my very inconsistent blog posts that there are probably (I think? tell me if you are!) a few CRC (colorectal cancer) patients and/or their caregivers reading my posts. It's always good to hear how other people got through something that you're afraid of or don't understand, so I've decided to start writing some mini "procedures" posts detailing my experiences with various tests, procedures, complications, chemotherapies, and so on. You can thank me (or throttle) me later. Let's start with the fun one I just mentioned in my last post: the partial splenic embolization. Ever since I survived a rather significant surgical mistake during my liver resection in August of 2013, I've had problems keeping my platelet levels high enough to receive treatment. Chemotherapy, in its toxic quest to kill the fastest growing cells within the body (cancer cells), also kills healthy cells that grow quickly (hair, mouth cells...

Yep, I had a doctor's appointment. I dragged myself there. I had told my oncologist what Dr. Sarah Cannon Trial Guy had said right after he said it, and my doctor, who has the sunniest, most optimistic disposition the world has ever seen, had said "pfffft" to that guy and that we would find a trial and not to worry. I had believed him enough to not start my chemo again (because you have to wash all treatment drugs and whatnot from your system for 4 (or is it 6?) weeks before entering a trial), but obviously did not believe him enough to just keep on truckin'. But I should have! Of course I should have. Because he arrived with a smile and some paperwork. "Found a trial! You have a slot!" We had spoken of this trial before, and it sounded very promising, but there was a waitlist and so on and thus it was only on the very edge of my radar. But not his! He had put me on the waitlist a while ago, it turns out, and now a spot had opened up and it was mine. MINE!!...

full of pioneer spirit since 1977 From my earliest days as a binge reader, when I would check out the entire Little House series from the school library and read them all cover to cover, I'd imagined myself as a pioneer girl. (Clearly, as the above photo evidence suggests, my mom also had that vision for me.) But then I got older, and realized that pioneers got really dirty, and they hung around outdoors all the time, and they were not deterred by bugs or mosquitoes, and they did not have many books, and they were only allowed one pair of boots..and I so I left my pioneer wagon by the side of the road and went off to find a cozy chair and a large pile of books. And that was that. UNTIL NOW. Now, I am doubling down on my pioneer dreams and tying that bonnet back on my head, because...I am IN A CLINICAL TRIAL. I am at the frontier of scientific change! I am a part of the cancer revolution! I AM FINALLY THE PIONEER GIRL OF MY DREAMS. Let me tell you all about it. ...

This beautiful girl turns ten today. Ten! A whole new existence awaits her. Ten is a magical time, when the simple things of childhood begin to be folded up and tucked away...and a limitless world of new possibilities await. Ten. Such a satisfying time. She's been waiting to claim that number for what feels, I'm sure, like forever. And now it's here.  And now it's here, and so am I. Ten. On a very dark day almost four years ago, my future collapsed in front of me as if in a conflagration. The prospect of me still being here with her on this good, hard earth and able to watch her settle the mantle of ten (ten!) atop her slender shoulders was swallowed up into the ashy blackness. I couldn't think on it. Instead, I pushed to make it to Mother's Day, to the Fourth of July, to the beginning of second grade. I breathed in, and I breathed out. And then I did it again. And ten waited in the darkness.  I caught a glimpse of it now and then, ten, as I made my way from o...