Power in Dreams - November 19, 2012

I had the most profound dream last night and am anxious to write about it now while its power still lingers within me – though I have a feeling this is one of those dreams that I will never forget and that will stay with me forever….

In my dream I was with a friend of mine who lives in New York – I’ll just use her first initial. So R and I and another friend that I can’t pinpoint exactly who – she was kind of a conglomeration of a few of my girlfriends – the three of us were climbing the Statue of Liberty. I have never been to the Statue of Liberty – seeing it on a ferry ride many years ago on a music biz trip is the closest I’ve got to it. So I’m not sure how people get to the crown on the top or what it looks like but in my dream there was a steep set of stone stairs and we climbed those stairs like one would climb rocks or a mountain – using our hands to help lift ourselves higher and higher. It was tough and highly laborious and through the dream, I could feel the challenge within every inch of my being. But throughout the climb, I remember feeling determined and I remember feeling as though I had to push through to get to the top.

When we finally arrived at the top, it was like we had to crawl up through a cave or a tunnel and jump onto a platform and once we did, so strange that I can recall my physical feelings in this dream… I felt all at once tired, completely beat-up, and accomplished. Despite our exhaustion, we had it in us to feel exalted and jump for joy! It was beautiful and extremely powerful. Of course one funny reality thing in this dream was that I kept saying I needed to take a photo of us up there! Ha ha – anyone who knows me would not be surprised by that aspect!

When I awoke from this dream, not only did I feel incredibly rested (kind of a rare occurrence this past year) but I immediately knew what this dream represented… You see it was a year ago this week that I was officially diagnosed with the Lymphoma. Actually last week on November 15 marked a year since my biopsy where I was told by the surgeon that it was Lymphoma but on November 15 of this year I spent the day in bed with a horrendous migraine and sick stomach, which I’m now thinking was a virus of some sort because I felt so ill and I heard of others who had the exact symptoms on that day. It felt a bit unsettling to be in bed that day as between feeling sick with the head and stomach, my right side of my neck, where my lymph node is, has been feeling full and off and on in slight pain. It has been a concern and anxiety of mine for the past two weeks and though people try to reassure me and I want to believe it’s not the nightmare returning, I can’t help but feel uneasy when I recall where I was a year ago and how this whole thing began. (I did see my oncologist/hematologist and though he did feel something he wasn’t overly concerned because my blood work was normal so it was the whole “keep an eye on it and call me if you need to” type thing until my next scan in February). But back to the dream….I’ve always wanted to visit the Statue of Liberty and I always feel exhilarated when I go to New York so this dream stirs those feelings up but more than anything, no matter where the dream took place, I know what it symbolized: My struggle and battle this past year, my climb to beat this thing and climbing Lady Liberty at that – how perfect! Achieving freedom from what cancer or other diseases do to you is a challenge in and of itself and after going through this, it’s a struggle to find that freedom from worry or fear but there is hope and determination and that’s what fuels my battle and my climb up the Statue of Liberty!

Frozen In Time - October 21, 2012

A year ago today I drove myself to the hospital for what was to become the first hospital stay – the day it was discovered I had a blood clot in my jugular vein. When I think back now I can’t even believe that I used my seat belt as the strap went right across my neck on my left side but I was pretty much in a dumbfounded state at that point – so much so that when I checked into the ER (fortunately with my mother with me) and they had me lie on a stretcher, I remember thinking that it wasn’t necessary for me to lie down but hey, okay, I’ll rest a bit. But as the hours went by things became more realistic with the staff behaving more urgently around me and I progressively became more nervous, so I was relieved when much later that night they decided to admit me.

That ended up being a week’s stay at which point I was sent home (prematurely we were to find out) and then re-admitted a couple weeks later for the next chapter, but about this date….

I have not driven since October 21, 2011. That wasn’t the plan of course but I really thought when all my treatment was done I’d be able to get back in my car and do the things I used to do – and many people after chemo treatment do. But between my numbified feet due to neuropathy that chemo caused, muscle weakness, body aches, and now frozen shoulder in both shoulders, I haven’t had the proper mobility to drive just yet. However, I had set a goal of driving before a year was up and here it is a year and, well, I’m not quite there yet. I can’t risk hurting somebody or myself just for the sake of symbolism. I’m almost there and I want to ease into it bit by bit, get my reflexes back, etc.

This date, like the date of my second hospital admission, is embedded in my brain and even if I try to forget it, I have recently come across reminders – incidents where it seems time froze on October 21, 2011. In cleaning my room, I’ve found things like old date/calendar books filled with appointments and plans with friends that stop in October; To Do Lists on notepads and PostIts on my desk dated in October of 2011; my prescription paperwork for the antibiotic for the maybe infection I was diagnosed with at the beginning of the nightmare in October of 2011 – even going through my DVR today to watch one of my favorite programs the episode was taped on October 21, 2011 and seeing that date and vaguely remembering maybe watching some of the episode that night in the hospital bed was a bit eerie. I shouldn’t look at it that way and actually I did more so feel grateful to get rid of those and move forward – but is it weird that after I watched my program, I felt particularly happy to hit delete and see that date disappear along with the show? ;-)

October 21, 2012 is three minutes to over as I am writing this so I hope for the frozen reminders to be melted away along with it – even if my memory of it all hasn’t. Oh and here’s to hoping for the frozen shoulder to unlock soon as well!

Reflecting…. 10.7.12

At first I missed the love…the all-encompassing, fulfilling, what-felt-like unconditional love. The surprises, the sweet dates, the slow build, the little secrets, the comfort, the having someone that you eventually know you can trust with your entire being….

Then it crashed…hard, painfully, blindsidedly, confusingly – to this day. A wreak of havoc within the heart and soul and body.

Then a year and a half passed – and a year to discovering I was lied to and cheated on and that he was already engaged a mere three months after our three-year relationship ended but at that time, last fall, I was a little busy fighting for my life and perspective changed and I decided to put the past and negativity behind me. My mind and soul needed to be directed on getting well and battling the health demon.

But there is a pain that creeps upon you when you’re alone and quiet and I had many, many days where fighting meant lying on a couch all day saving your energy for doctor appointments and chemo sessions and in those moments sometimes that hurt crept up, that knowledge of a wedding date that wasn’t mine. But today as that date nears I realized the things I DON’T miss. Yes, many things I truly don’t miss and you know what? I am okay. I’m smiling as I write this. Some situations we live with are choices we made and some are the result of somebody else’s choices. Either way, it’s all in how you live with it – or happily without it.

Posted for September - Lymphoma & Blood Cancer Awareness Month

Photo that my friend took of me and that I then created in recognition of September being Lymphoma and Blood Cancer Awareness Month. We did other photos with  my "Warrior" shirt but I chose this one in particular to post because my face was hidden to show it isn't about me - it's about all who are affected.

September 2, 2012

I miss my hair...I miss being able to hop in my car alone and hang out in Inman Square with a book and coffee at the 1369....I miss having a boyfriend and being a girlfriend....I miss working...I miss going out for walks...I miss some other little things you don’t realize you miss until suddenly they’re not part of your life at the moment…see – at the moment – I know it can change (well, who knows about the boyfriend part!)

But, hey, okay, I don’t miss the hospital…I don’t miss being sick…I don’t miss chemo…I am grateful and I hate that I feel guilty about writing the above…just having a moment and couldn’t post this on Facebook so I decided to post it here. 

That’s all…

Searching

It is after midnight and I am sitting in bed listening to the crickets – one of my favorite sounds of summer. It is peaceful and maybe oddly uplifting to me. It reminds me of my gratitude.

I have been disturbed, however, by my emotions this past week in particular. I last wrote about my PET CT scan and my anxiety about it, well I got my results last Wednesday and the results were good news – no activity in the lymph nodes! My doctor did, however, say they saw something in my salivary glands – didn't know what it was and he said he wasn't worried about it. Well, how about that I'M worried about it?! There was no use of the word "remission," perhaps because I am still a big ol' question mark bandied about between oncology and rheumatology. But here's what bothers me, along with the good news tempered with this salivary gland thing and the continued "unknownness" – the fact that I didn't feel as overjoyed as I should have for this news. What's wrong with me? I'm relieved, happy, and grateful but I didn't feel that peace or elation that I expected. In January when I had a PET scan after three chemos in the midst of treatment, my oncologist at that time barely took two steps in her office before she joyfully delivered the good news – "no lymph nodes" (that's how they tell you the scan showed no activity – almost sounds like your lymph nodes have disappeared, huh?). I was so incredibly happy, I began crying – as did she and my mother. I wanted to feel that way again this time but I didn't. Granted my Boston oncologist's delivery style was different, though he was behaving in a positive way ("live your life"), but I have been grappling with my mixed emotions and, frankly, been beating myself up over it – like I need any more beating than I've already had! But there is an element of guilt where I think how dare I feel down when I got this far, when I'm lucky to be alive; when I was so, so sick less than a year ago. It feels like such a disservice to my family who stood bravely by my side and saw me through my worst days and moments, who had to endure their own personal pain through this. I feel like it's even a disservice to God for seeing me through and here I am shedding tears and having moments of depression. I think I've confused everybody... well, not God of course! But certainly myself and then I feel guilty for that and there's this silly circle of guilt. Not to mention that I'm usually the upbeat, happy, optimistic Debbie that everyone knows; or the fact that people have been telling me how strong and brave I am – I don't want anyone to think otherwise – I am still that person but you can be optimistic and strong and still have fear or worry or feel depressed. It IS ok.

Fortunately, I have some incredible close friends and family who, when I expressed these feelings to them, said some things that made me feel better – that “it’s okay to not feel joy when there are so many unanswered questions”….. “…don’t beat yourself up over how you feel – you feel how you feel and there’s no right or wrong to that!”…”….[the news] kinda robbed you a bit of the comfort you should have had. But it is a milestone and you’ve come all this way!”….”This is really your first big test after your chemo. It hasn’t been that long. You can’t be so hard on yourself. You aren’t doing or feeling anything out of the ordinary. Nothing is right or wrong how you feel. You are just being real!” All those of words from four different wonderful people helped me tremendously – so much so that I have been going back to reread those texts and had to write them here again as a reminder.

Also in an effort to help myself figure out why I have been feeling this way and crying more now than I did even during chemo, I did a little web surfing tonight and learned I'm not so abnormal after all. It's normal for people who have gone through cancer and cancer treatment to feel this way – sometimes it's depression or anxiety, even post-traumatic stress disorder in some, which makes sense because it IS traumatic. And it's common for loved ones of those with cancer to go through a depression or anxiety as well.

I think what’s common or what’s putting up that wall is that uncertainty, that worry that the cancer or sickness is going to return. Maybe one might think, "be glad your scan was ok and" as my doctor said, "live your life." Hey, I am – believe me! I know after all the rallying around and the support, prayers, cards, gifts, etc., when you are at your worst that eventually it tapers down when people learn treatment is done and you are getting physically better. Everyone has their own problems and worries and need to attend to their lives and I know my family and friends WANT to see the Debbie they knew before this – "back-to-normal Debbie" – and believe me, I want that, too, but I am learning it just doesn't happen that quickly. They say to those of us struggling with that – missing our normal and wanting to return to it – that you often never do and that you need to accept, embrace even, a "new normal." I get that, sure, I'm just not there yet.

I can say that though I have been writing here about the lack of elation, I have been fortunate enough to have many other moments of joy – being around my family, time with my nephew and nieces, my birthday this year and being able to smile and laugh with my family and enjoy the day – even having my cousin pay me a surprise visit, sitting outside and just feeling the sun and smelling the sweet aroma of summer, and then there’s always the hula-hooping – being able to hoop even just a little bit brought me joy! Oh and back to being able to open a window and hear the crickets. The little things in life. The daily sweet and sometimes simple things we take for granted but that you come to truly appreciate when you are lying in a hospital bed for a month, when you can’t speak right or eat or drink properly because your mouth is full of painful sores from chemo, when feeling hunger pains becomes something to celebrate, and being outside from the house to the car for medical appointments becomes the treat of the day because you’re outside for just a moment and can take a breath of fresh air. I don’t want to ever forget some of those hardest times because it brings me back to reminding me of my blessings and my gratitude and snaps me back to realizing that joy is there even in the most confusing and challenging of times. Yes, it’s there….within my heart. 

One of my little joys - hooping...(photo taken in the reflection of my garage window).

Writing To Quell Anxiety

I haven't even formed the words in my head - I just needed to write and I may even take this down as it very well may end up a pile of word babble.... Last week I had my first post-treatment PET CT scan. They are all important and all bring anxiety but there's something about the first one after all the chemo, after working through this Land of Limbo that I still live in - trying to get on track; going to physical therapy; trying to get out and see friends and do fun things; trying to look for work from home...trying, trying, living and breathing and being grateful for each moment but always in the back of my mind this exists. The last time I saw my cancer doctor three months ago he told me to "enjoy your summer" and "get back to work"! He meant well but first off, I can't get back to work the same I did before quite yet. I am not physically able to commute into a job every day and believe it or not, that chemo is still affecting my stamina. I can, however, work from home and as a writer and editor by profession, I am able to work from home. I have been getting a little bit of work from friends who were former coworkers and that has been great! Not enough to get off of Unemployment but enough to get my mind back there again. And I have been enjoying my summer thanks to my family and friends. But I knew all along that August 8 would be burned into my head as the day of that scan. So the day came and went and I was okay but since then I've been waiting for my result and the anxiety has been floating within every day. I assume my doctor decided to wait to tell me the results when he saw me but man, a week feels so long when you are waiting for test results!

So tomorrow morning I head into the hospital with my parents to meet with him and have a blood test and discuss this scan. I have decided that even if the results aren't what I'm hoping for, I am still in battle mode and the armor will be donned again as I will do whatever it takes. If the results are what I'm hoping for, I will feel relieved and extremely happy but I wonder how many other people who have gone through this STILL worry that something was missed. I don't want to put any negative spin on a positive but based on what I've dealt with not only this past year but years before, it's hard to put your trust in tests and doctors because things are missed. The first CT scan they did on me was when my lymph node was enlarged and the doctor in my primary care's office (my doc was not in the day), upon feeling a mass and being concerned, ordered the CT scan - that came out clear and I somewhere deep inside I knew it wasn't right because I never did feel relieved. Maybe four weeks later it was discovered I had this Lymphoma - so why didn't that first scan catch anything at all? See, people go in and have tests and you want to trust them. But I won't look back because the blood clot saved me really and brought me to where I needed to be to get the help and answers I needed.

So here I am in the present the night before just venting - and thank you to anyone who happens to read it! I'm going to wind down for the night, watch a little TV, eat a little dark chocolate (yum), say my prayers, and maybe take a little pill for anxiety to help me sleep and then deal with tomorrow when I get there. :-) Thanks for listening.... Sweet dreams....!

Birthday

I just celebrated a birthday a few days ago and this year it was particularly significant - though every birthday is significant to us all. This birthday signified just reaching it - I told my family that I had to work hard to get to that day and I had them to thank for it. I decided from now on I wouldn't fret about age - not that I usually do but I am still in great denial I am in this particular decade as despite all my body and mind has been through since October, I still feel 15 years younger than my actual age!

Anyway, about the age thing.... About ten years ago I was a freelance proofreader at a direct marketing company and there was a woman who worked there who was a cancer warrior. She came to work every day wearing her head scarf and a smile. Her strong and positive attitude inspired me. She was a copywriter like myself and a beautiful artist. On my birthday when the office all signed a card for me she wrote something that has stayed strong with me ever since - something along the lines of "keep getting old." No one had ever written anything like in a birthday card to me - not then and not since and it was powerful to me because I knew she was battling cancer and she knew the significance of reaching a birthday and getting older and how special that actually is. It resonated so strongly with me, I wrote down her words on a Post-it and kept it on my desk all these years later. Little did I know how much I would one day relate to that. Sad to say, years after I left that job, I heard she passed away and though I didn't know her that well, it really affected me. I wish I could tell her how much she inspired me then and now.... Thank you, Jane.

Wondering & Wishing

Forgiveness and acceptance are two things that need to go hand-in-hand and in essence shouldn’t be as difficult as we make it. But we do. Why? What is that block that prevents people from forgiving and accepting? It is liberating to do that – let go and accept things as they are but we fight it – I’m not sure if it’s a principle that holds us back or pride? This sense of we are entitled to feel angry or hurt and therefore we are not giving in to letting that entitlement go. Release your souls of that if you can. It’s difficult, it’s challenging, I know and it’s something that’s still a work in progress for myself but I have learned the last few years, it really does feel better to let go and truly I believe that things eventually fall into place when you do.

Random Things I’ve Learned Or Discovered Through This Trial

I’ve always been a glass-is-half-full type of gal – upbeat and positive even though that’s tempered with worry and anxiety. Doesn’t seem to make sense, does it?! But anyone who really knows me knows that I’m generally a positive and upbeat person. So through this challenging time, I’ve tried to see the good through the bad and randomly in the last nine months certain thoughts came to mind that I’d like to call little discoveries…. I’ll share a few here….

1. I really don't need caffeine every day – I didn’t really start drinking coffee or tea regularly until my 30s and each year from that point, my caffeine intake increased. I also discovered that caffeine helped me with my migraines so my daily cup of tea or coffee was either a remedy for a headache, a wake-me-up boost, or just a pleasurable beverage for the day. When I was in the hospital the first time, I had a migraine and because I couldn’t take my usual Excedrin, I asked for some Coke for the caffeine – oddly I got a bad case of the jitters from that so completely on my own, not under any doctor’s instruction, I just gave up daily caffeine cold turkey – and I was fine! Now since I’ve been better and off chemo, etc., my migraines have been resurfacing so I find myself having a can of Coke or a cup of coffee to help with the headache or to prevent it from getting worse when I feel one coming on - but as far as NEEDING one every day - I’m good! I love tea and it’s good for you and believe me, I'm still a coffee/tea lover and still drink a caffeinated item if I feel like it but the good thing is not needing to have it every single day.

ADDENDUM TO THIS POST - 8.4.12 - I got a one-cup Keurig coffeemaker for my birthday from my sister and am all excited about it and I've got a great mix of coffees, teas, and yes, an entire box of Dunkin' Donut's decaf, too - since I still can't get out on my own yet, running out for a coffee or tea isn't so easy but now thanks to my sister, I can satisfy any coffee or tea needs from the convenience of my home.

2. This leads to another strange discovery….ever since this happened I have lost my desire for certain foods and drinks that beforehand I loved. While at the Center for Cancer this winter, I met a really nice volunteer who himself was a cancer survivor and he told me the same thing happened to him. So odd and I’m not sure if it’s temporary or what causes it but all I know is I was someone who every day had a yogurt and a bowl of cereal every single morning and now I have had zero desire for yogurt or cereal or milk for that matter. It’s not a dairy thing because I still love cheese and ice cream (not together of course… lol). Also, related to #1 here, I loved my Starbuck chai tea latte and would have several a week. I haven’t had one since before this happened. At first I thought my lack of desire for certain foods was due to the horrible case of thrush I had and the terrible mouth sores that come along with chemo, which makes eating many foods difficult and unpleasurable but yogurt was something I loved and at the hospital they really wanted me to eat that to help with the thrush, etc., plus it was easy to eat but when I needed the most is when I literally pushed it aside. Strange thing the body is, huh?

3. Prior to this, I would never leave the house without even a teeny bit of makeup – a little eyeliner and mascara and lipstick at the very least. Even while in the hospital the first time, I had my mother bring me my makeup but by the second time around, I didn’t care. Perspective, right?! For months I actually let people see me without makeup – the horror! And it was a horror alright! LOL But honestly, it’s not so bad and it’s liberating to not care. Not that I didn’t care about my appearance but maybe it was just accepting myself as I was. Of course the fact that because of the chemo, I lost most of my eyelashes and I had that nasty Iritis inflammation in my eye I couldn’t wear eye makeup even if I wanted to, but the point is I didn’t worry what people thought of me. This may sound strange but I think giving my face a break from cosmetics actually improved my complexion! Now that my eyelashes have returned and I’m feeling a bit better, I’m back to wearing makeup when I go out but it’s not a daily thing and I’m not horrified if someone were to drop by and I didn’t have any on. Accept yourself as you are. J

4. Humility, modesty, it all goes out the window when you’re in the hospital in my condition for nearly a month. Kind of going along with the entry above, you just don’t care. When that many people see you naked or various forms of…um…undress, well all embarrassment just automatically shuts off. They aren’t there to judge – they’re there to help.

5. Funny how last summer I was so concerned with my weight in trying to lose weight and now less than a year later, it’s been all about gaining weight and struggling to put those pounds back on. Careful what you wish for as they say!

6. Back to aforementioned migraines – I was plagued with those nasty headaches many times a week but while in the hospital they eventually vanished. I wasn’t sure why as I heard that chemo can cause headaches. Was it all the medicine? Then I saw on a friend’s Facebook page a post from their friend mentioning that magnesium can help migraines – that had to be it! In the hospital they gave me daily doses of magnesium and once this winter during chemo I required a magnesium infusion. Now that I’m off all that, my migraines have been returning and I’m going to look into taking magnesium – not sure how to dose it, etc., though.

7. I have to remind myself now to get back to that place where I didn’t let little things bother me – something I did before all this but while fighting for my life, small stupid things didn’t matter. I find myself slipping back to that and writing this here reminds me to let the little things go. Life breathes better when you do.

8. I’m going to try to look at this experience as a reset. I was in need of one and this is not exactly how I wanted to reset things in my life nor would I wish that upon anybody but in my pursuit of looking for the positive, I’m going to take this experience and try to move forward doing things better. Getting myself organized, not getting stressed about minor things, letting go of the past, forgiving, being a better person, helping others who are or have been in a similar position, finally writing that book (or books) I’ve been talking about – or at least attempting to, getting rid of things – the clutter, etc., and SO many more things – that’s just a small taste.

White T-Shirts

There's something about putting on a crisp white t-shirt that just feels refreshing and nice. Clean slate...goes with everything...wear whatever with it (like a dash of red in my case!)....feels good. :-)

The Original Blog....

As I mentioned in my "About Me" here I started this blog offsite, nonpublished this winter when I felt the need to write about Lymphoma and my health...um...adventures. It was to be a release for me and a means of communicating updates to family and friends. But as the months went on, I decided I didn't want a blog dedicated to just that. It seems negative and, well, a downer (and don't anyone dare ever call me that SNL character name!) and though I do need and will write about it, my health doesn't define me and I simply have other things to say. Maybe the things I do write about it will help others going through something similar and for that, I'm glad to share...

So for anyone who’s interested, here's what I began at the beginning of 2012 while still in chemo...

THE STORY

"Well, now we know what it is," my doctor's lilting voice relayed over the phone. "You have a blood clot on your jugular vein." "What?!" was my immediate, shock-filled response. I stood there in the darkened room where I just had an ultra sound that fortunately my doctor ordered to find out why a swollen, yet hardened mass on the left side of my neck hadn't gone down. I knew something wasn't right even when a CT scan the week before didn't show anything but I never would have thought it was a blood clot - never mind what it eventually meant: Lymphoma.

Of course that October afternoon I had no idea that that was just the beginning of a crazy, unexpected journey. My doctor told me she was going to contact a vascular surgeon that she knew and for me to go home and wait for a call back from her. I hung up the phone and sat there trying to process they fact that I had a blood clot. "I don't know what to do," I said aloud both to myself and the George Carlin lookalike tech who found the clot. He stood there solemnly, not really knowing what to say himself.

I drove home in a haze, found out I had to go back but this time to the emergency room, and thus began my "adventure" in the medical world....

I was admitted to the hospital that night. For two weeks I had doctors and various specialists there try to figure out how or why I got a blood clo in the jugular vein as I kept hearing how unusual it was to get one in that location. They suspected I had an infection, possibly caused by getting a broken tooth repaired in September but no one could really confirm if that was the cause. There were other possible factors, but again, it was just speculation. But the real problem was this swollen, painful left side of my neck and the large, hardened mass beneath it that just wasn't going away.

I was on antibiotics the entire time and blood thinners and after a week was sent home with what is called a PICC line in my arm so I could administer antibiotics to myself intravenously and I also had to give myself injections of a blood thinner for a few days. But I actually got worse when I got home. A couple days later the right side of my neck starting presenting with the same problems as my left only in an accelerated manner. The left side pain and swelling had progressed very slowly over the course of a few weeks whereas the right side did exactly everything the left did but in the course of a couple days! It actually started while I was still in the hospital but they just attributed it to the infection.

Two weeks home: Drained and side-effect-ridden by the antibiotics....so weak I could barely walk.....no appetite....hearing affected....bad allergic reaction to the antibiotic....etc., etc.....Finally my infectious disease doctor realized that weeks of antibiotics with no progress wasn't right and had me readmitted to the hospital.

At this point it is November. To make an already long story short, the doctors there began running various tests to see what was going on (Lyme? Cat Scratch Fever? Mono? TB?) but I think they suspected Lymphoma.

It took a while to get an official diagnosis. First step was a biopsy. I was told that even then, the lymph node pathology would have to be analyzed and that ended up taking over a week. However, there was enough evidence after the biopsy that the surgeon could tell me immediately after that it was in fact lymphoma - exactly what kind is what the pathology was about. I'll tell you one thing I learned at that moment, if you're going to get news like that, it is far better to get it gently expressed to you while lying in recovery after surgery in a drugged-up haze. Somehow my surgeon breaking the news to me that way softened the blow. I wonder if they do that on purpose!

A week or so later I was told I had High Grade, B Cell Lymphoma and that, thankfully, it was treatable and curable. However, as an addendum to that, about a month later in December, it was discovered that there was a T cell, too, which I guess a B and T together aren't as common. Still treatable and curable but it requires more work, so I was told I had to have a stem cell transplant at Mass General Hospital to hopefully get beneath the surface and take care of that. More updates on that later.....

ADJUSTING....ACCEPTING....
How do you? Honestly, since November I still feel like this is surreal and that I am in a fog. I decided the best way to deal with it is truly taking one step, one day, one moment at a time. I have a strong faith in God and know He has a purpose and know He is seeing me through - even though I daily ask for the strength. I have already experienced more incredible blessings through this than I could imagine. My family has been amazing - my parents, sister, and brother have stood strongly by my side from day one - and I know this is not easy for them but they have been so positive and supportive and their powerful love is beyond description. I KNOW I could not get through this without them. My young nephew and two nieces were amazing through this – they visited me in the hospital and never blinked an eye at all the scary medical equipment and such hooked up to their Auntie – nor reacted to seeing me this way – and they’ve stayed that way throughout. Their presence and love and acceptance still get me through. My aunts, uncles, and cousins - the love and support they give me help tremendously. And my friends - again, they help sustain me. They all encourage me, love me, are there for me and I keep saying they don't realize how much they help me get through these days but they all do! I am indebted to them all. All the prayers DO make a difference. Complete strangers who tell me they're praying for me. New people I meet. The doctors, nurses, aids, hospital and medical staffs, volunteers, etc., etc. I have always been one who wanted to see the good in people and as I got older, I started to wonder if that was my downfall or why I got hurt....but I know through this it has restored in me how much true goodness is out there! More than bad....yup, I am still the annoying optimist even through all this! After all, who would have thought that in a weird way, a blood clot ended up helping me!

DECEMBER - JANUARY
Back to the timeline...After 26 days in the hospital, I was finally released in early December. It was a bit rough while there. I got a lot weaker and sicker; even borderline kidney failure. I fortunately had ongoing support - family, friends, clergy visiting (even a local Bishop!); cards, flowers, all of the above really does make a difference when you're stuck in a hospital room for that amount of time. I have to say I felt numb at times and wondered why other than the first mention of Lymphoma why I didn't have a complete breakdown.

I have always appreciated nurses and admired what they do but after going through two hospital stays, my admiration and respect for nurses and nurses' aids soared even higher. What they do is incredible. I was so fortunate to be in the care of all these nurses and aids. As I am writing this now I am choking up thinking about all they did for me. I have always been the type that has had a hard time asking for help but the condition I was in I needed the help and whether they realized it or not, I was in awe of these nurses on a daily basis. Plus when you're in the hospital for nearly a month, you feel like a resident there. I got to know the staff from the daytime to the overnight - they comforted me, laughed with me, talked with me, informed me, were firm with me when I needed it ("you HAVE to take these pills, Debbie," "You need to walk three times a day...try!"). They were my liaison to the doctors.

I was told that I would have six chemotherapy sessions, three weeks apart. I had my first one in the hospital and the second at my local Center for Cancer - they are wonderful there and I love my oncologist.

Despite somehow catching a bad cold and cough and a painful eye inflammation called Iritis, it was wonderful to be home for Christmas. Oh and I got a wig just in time for Christmas, too! So yes, I have lost most of my hair and at that point I really didn't wear my wig much as I didn't go anywhere but doctors' appointments or blood draws but I had knitted caps and pretty head scarves that I wore with just enough hair to have bangs peeking out!

January 2012 brought two more chemos. Chemotherapy, I have learned, has some strange side effects and for me, they can vary and change each time. I am not complaining as for all the rough parts of chemo, I know it is helping me - in fact in January I had my first PET Scan and was told by my oncologist that it showed no activity in the lymph nodes! Good news! I cried when she gave me that good news! I am realistic enough to know that didn't mean the cancer was gone but it did mean the chemo was doing its job and it made all the chemo side effects worth it. As my dad said, I was beating it down. Yes!

So, the aforementioned stem cell transplant... Along with my local oncologist, I was seeing an oncologist at Mass General Hospital. He works with my doctor here and he even saw me a couple times while I was in the hospital. He very clearly explained to my parents and me why it was that I needed a stem cell transplant. It scared me at first - I had been living each day at a time and now I had to think ahead and it took me a bit to wrap my head around that. There is a lot to learn, do, and prepare when getting a stem cell transplant - they provided me with books, etc., and told me first I had to have my own stem cells collected - it's always best to use your own if possible so that was the plan but you also need to have a match in case yours don't work or if by chance you need another transplant, as you can't use your own more than once. My sister and brother were my two best possibilities so they said they would get tested. As it turns out, my brother was a match! I had cousins and friends who also volunteered in case my siblings weren't a match, which I still appreciate because it's not a fun thing to do. First step - have a port placed in my chest that was to be used for collecting and implanting the stem cells. Next step - get the cells collected. That's a good five- to six-hour procedure of laying in a bed and being hooked up to these machines that are highly sophisticated yet look like they're computers from the early '70s! It's tiring but painless....
Next step - finish chemos and then plan for at least a three-week stay at the hospital where the transplant is to take place. It's pretty intense - they give you an extremely high dose of chemo to bring your immune system to the very lowest it can go and then slooooowly give you your stem cells back and as that's supposed to eventually elevate you back. It's the best chance, my doctor said, of getting beneath all the layers and nabbing that nasty cancer. I had reached the point of accepting this and actually wanted to get it done so I could start my life over but then right around the fifth chemo my oncologist informed me and my parents that things had changed...
Apparently my original pathology from November had always presented in an unusual, abnormal manner but because I had all the symptoms of Lymphoma and all the tests they run to see if it's cancer confirmed that I did, they went ahead as planned. But at Mass General they have a conference before every SCT and a pathologist there questioned my pathology and thought it best to get a third opinion before proceeding with such an intensive procedure. They all decided to send it off to the NIH - National Institutes of Health, which according to my oncologist, it is the highest you can go in the United States. They came back questioning it as well so the SCT has been put on hold, sixth chemo cancelled, and due to the complicated and confusing nature of my case, all my care has been transferred to Mass General. My local hospital was truly wonderful but they went as far as they could and I was already working with both places. It seems the doctors are “confused” - not exactly what you want to hear. :-/ But my doctor was determined to stay on top of it and keep an eye on me. It is too risky of a procedure to do the transplant when there are inconclusive results but I admit at first I had a range of mixed emotions - my own confusion, fear, anger, relief - the most difficult part for me was there was a plan in place and now my place is Limbo Land - not a fun place! :-( So far my doctor set me up with specialists there, and I've seen him a couple times, last time was May but naturally, though they said they'd watch me closely, I was hoping for MORE closely! I have my first post-treatment PET scan and CT scan in early August and in the meantime have been going to physical therapy regularly to try to build all the strength back that I lost through the hospital stay, malnourishment, and chemotherapy. It whacked a lot out of me, which is fine because it helped me, so no complaints here, however, I never realized how challenging it is to recover from it. The battle is not over post-chemo - it rages on! I'm still a question mark - in fact, I've been told this could very well be published - when I dreamed of being published, this was NOT what I had in mind! LOL But if it helps others, then great! It's a watch-and-wait thing, which is normal after cancer. I may never need the transplant but my doctor said the minute there's any swollen nodes again or anything, he'll put me back on chemo and do the transplant. I hope and pray the scans in August will be clear but as always I’ll remain the upbeat, smiling, silly Debbie – who does worry but that’s understandable, right?! My fighting spirit is in place and I can only say this continuously life-changing experience has truly made me a stronger person. :-)

P.S. As an addendum to all this, I have to add there are SO many things between these lines that I didn’t write about….I realized in going through my texts to friends from the past nine months all the other things that went on that I would share with them but since I wasn’t writing during it all, I just didn’t “log” it let’s say. Some may come out in other blog entries but basically all the blood transfusions I’d like to mention – I had so many I lost count and it reminded me of how grateful I am for all those who donate blood. To this day, I wish I knew who all my donors were so I could thank them personally. And there’s so much more to all of this story and journey but hey, this entry is long enough, right? Thank you if you read this far!