"How's Your Belly Been?" Well ... Depends.



 

You're Welcome. To everyone who has ever had a poop story, you're welcome. In perhaps the grossest, most humiliating post on this blog (not to mention, in my life), I shared the terrible details of my belly problems. I thought I was the only one.

 

Well, no sooner do I blog about my bowels then people come out of the woodwork. The stories are wild, hilarious, humiliating and raw all at the same time. Friends have shared their darkest moments to let me know I am not alone. They too have shit themselves!

 

Nothing like sharing a terrible story to bring poopy people closer together. Who would have thought the world has such bathroom troubles? Obviously the people at Depends know. They've been making a killing off of our shitty misfortunes. My friends and family were quick and generous to supply me with what I needed depending on how my tummy felt.  

 

Here are the supplies (of which I have some left over. I'm happy at least, I didn't run through both packs and need more!) Marcia picked up the green package. "Protection with Tabs" - you know how maxi pads have wings? Yeah, these are not wings. They mean tabs, like on a child's diaper. Because that's what these are, just for adults. Marsh was right though, they're breakaway, you can get them off quickly when you need to. This was phase one.

 

Then Angie gifted me with the pink package. "Silhouette" - These are more like pull-ups. But instead of having Sponge Bob designs on them, they are beige and more slimming. This is the brand that Lisa Renna wore on the red carpet. You know how girls in their 20's try really hard to hide a panty line by wearing thongs? Women in their 30's who shit themselves where Silhouette to hide the tabs of their Depends. It's just the next natural phase, I guess.

 

                                 

 

I was hiding these in the bottom of my closet since "the incident." I was embarrassed someone would see them. Now, my winter boots are taking up a lot more space and I had to clean house. I think I'm gonna move them to a guest room closet - you know, just in case. But I thought, there's nothing worse than sharing that story. Why not share the solution too. Thanks Depends. You were there for my shitty situation.

 

 Hey, she looks good!

You Don't Need To Be A Math Genius

... to know that my latest number is kick ass!

3.5

Woo! Hoo! And that's after a week with no chemo. I'm convinced there's no rhyme or reason to two sets of numbers lately. A) the hCG and B) our tennis team ratings.

Two weeks after a hospital stay with 24 hours of Methotrexate dripping there's a decline to 5.1, then a slight uptick to 5.9, then a drop to 3.5 - go figure. But really, I'm not figuring, I'm just taking that number and running with it.

And apparently, no matter how much running you do up and down the tennis court to get the ball, the US Tennis Association will just make up your rating. After qualifying for the Regional Competition in Princeton this summer, some members of my tennis team got bumped up to 3.0 then recently bumped back down to 2.5. While it's a tennis bummer, I think the USTA secretly wants some of my girls to have a number in the 2's too. It seems to be the cool number to have. A little over two for them, and then a little under two for me. Besides, I haven't played tennis in so long, I'll be a 2.5 rating forever. I've got a lot of catching up to do - on the court and at the bar after the matches.

Medically, the number is down but so are my platelets. So I was disqualified from chemo for the second week. I get a little nervous when I can't get the juice. I'm afraid the number will go up ... but look at this week?? What do I know?? No chemo AND a better number AND I'm feeling more peppy and more like myself?? Not a bad gig.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have to because this Groundhog Day will be 1 year since my re-diagnosis. That's a long time. A lot longer than I ever anticipated at the outset of this. But then again, a lot of this is different than my "expectations." And you can't really have expectations with cancer. It's gonna do what it's gonna do and you have to roll with it. I think that's a lesson God has probably been trying to instill in me through this whole thing. I think I'm just getting it now. Geez, am I stubborn.

It's my birthday at the end of the month. When I started this - the 3rd round of chemo - in October, I thought it would be great to be wrapped up by my birthday. It's clear that won't happen, but it's not such a bad thing. I will start my 33rd year sick and end it well. Maybe even with a baby in the works somehow or another. Think positive thoughts and positive things will come to you. And I'm thinking less than 2 is right around the corner, baby!

Happy New Year! Lucky '13 is gonna be our year!

A Happy Holiday Hiatus

Merry Christmas!! Sorry I have not posted in a bit. We were busy being Merry! Wow! What a wonderful holiday we had! You can't keep a Cooke down during the holiday season and this year was no exception ... the only difference was I had a legion of elves this year. And I was more like a sack of potatoes laying on the couch while all the elves made magic (and an entire meal.) Sometimes it takes a village, sometimes it takes the Jorgensen/Cooper/Luna/Cooke Brigade to throw a feast. And feast we did. (I'm still eating Christmas Day leftovers. Is that a health risk, or you think that shit is still edible?) Cancer recap: Week before Christmas, blood went from 10.9 to 5.1 - that's what I'm talking about! Good, old fashioned Christmas Miracle! That was after the Cisplatin week, which seems to be the drug that is working the best. My awesome girlfriend Chris Steltz slept over at the hospital with me. (I just typed "my dear, dear friend Chris" but thought that made her sound stuffy, when in fact, she is one of the most fun loving, laid back people I know. She is a dear but "hot stuff" fits her better.) I told her we had to wear cute pajamas and stay up all night and share secrets like we were college roommates. Her only reply was, "Well, of course, but I don't have cute pajamas." So while picking up stocking stuffers at CVS, I went out of my way and bought her $9 pink polka dot flannel pj's. They've probably fallen apart in the wash already. My mom and her husband Bruce, my youngest sister Taylor and her children, Hailey (6) and William (3) arrived from North Carolina on Saturday. We played and played and played. And then sometimes Aunt Mimi (that's me) needed to take a nap. So I'd lay down and then a little William would sneak in and come to the edge of the bed and say, "Aunt Mimi, whatcha doing?" Inevitably he would climb in with me and snuggle (my favorite) and we'd turn on the TV and watch Sponge Bob (his favorite) and no napping would occur. But that's the fun of having family around, right? Wouldn't change my snuggle time for anything! It snowed a bit here on Christmas Eve. So special. The kids who came from North Carolina didn't bring any snow clothes - go figure! But we bundled them up and let them loose. This is really the first time William has been old enough to go out and play in the snow! So fun to watch his excitement and watch him get cold! Yes, Santa came. Yes, there were a million presents under the tree. Yes, our garbage pails are overflowing from the amount of wrapping paper and boxes left over. Yes, you need a PhD to get most kids toys out of the packaging. Yes, invariably small children will want to play with the one toy that they can't - in this case it was William's tee-ball batting practice game. Not an indoor game and everything was snowy/muddy outside. (Aunt Mimi, can you open this for me? Can I play this now? I'm going to go outside to play this now.)   There were two distinct piles on Christmas morning: Pink and Barbie - Toy Story and Sponge Bob   William all dressed in his Christmas outfit rocking his Spiderman sunglasses (the glare from the snow was really bad!) In the background is the tee ball game he really wanted to play. My Santa Claus was very good to me. Chris gave me a beautiful David Yurman ring and a big deal Nikon camera. So maybe the pics on this blog will be of better quality now. I tried to get fancy/schmancy with this one: a pic of the ring with the new camera (see how I worked that all in?? I got Chris a firearm and a surf board. We're hoping he doesn't attempt to use those gifts at the same time.) The Cookes joined us for dinner Christmas night for a total of 15 mouths to feed. It was no problem because we made enough food for 150 people. I like to think that our families would have come to our house even if I wasn't sick this year. But if cancer is the reason that so many of us got to share the holiday together, I'll take that as a beautiful blessing.

I'm Going To Stop Writing Notes To Myself



 

I have two parents; one's a saver, one's a thrower-awayer. Dad has a series of boxes hidden somewhere that he calls "The Archives." I'm sure it has my Kindergarten report card, a crayon drawing from 5th grade and the program from my college graduation. That kind of stuff, times 60 years of collecting. If Mommy came across something like that, she's say this is clutter and what are we going to save it for. That's why her house is immaculate. I trend toward saving and that's why my house is a mess.

 

I don't think there is a right or wrong, but this "saving" or "remembering" thing that I have bit me in the ass while I was decorating for Christmas. I don't know if it's the journalist in me, but writing stuff down to "save" it for later has always been big. I kept a journal in high school - it is now the most hysterical thing to read. My spelling was just as bad as it is now and my handwriting was worse. Also, I write myself a Leap Day Letter every four years. I have four of them so far. I tell my 4 year future self what's going on now and I ask her questions about what it's like when I read it the future. I project where I think I'm going to be in four years. In 2004's Leap Letter, Chris and I just started dating. In 2008's letter, we were planning our wedding. I like to see how things change and what you thought it would be like.

 

While opening up one of my 36 Rubbermaid containers full of decorations, I found a note I wrote myself last year. I must have been in a good mood when I was cleaning up from Christmas, because I gave the 2012 Meredith some information to make decorating easier this year. Namely, (see below) that "several strands of light on the garland don't work." In other words, I was too lazy to fix it at the end of the 2011 season, but be forewarned for the 2012 season. Because I knew I would be reading this little note to myself 12 months later, I added "are you pregnant?" as a note to myself. Last year at this time, it was totally plausible that I might be pregnant right now. If only the 2011 Meredith knew what was coming. I opened the container this year, took out the garland, found the note at the bottom and sat down and cried. No, I'm not pregnant. No, I'm never gonna be pregnant. Yes, I think I might stop writing myself notes. Who could have known? It stung a little bit.

 

Numbers are up and so is my frustration level

I'm having a grumpy day. My numbers bumped up a little. I had 9 hours of chemo yesterday and I missed a big Christmas party. I'm just in a bad mood.

The stupid hCG went from 7.4 to 10.9 - just enough to be annoying. I panicked two weeks ago when it shot from 4 to 39. So a three point creep to 10 is nothing compared to that. But 10 is not good enough. 10 means there's still cancer. And I am so sick and tired of cancer.

Chemo at the office was fine yesterday. Kristin, and special guests Angie and Marcia are the highlights. I saw my dear friend and chemo buddy, Agnes and she's in need of extra prayers right now. So say one for her in my stead this week. We need to lift her and her family up to the Lord.

I'm trying not to project too far ahead. However, this continued roller coaster of hCG levels is really frustrating. And I don't want to continue to do this up and down for months. I feel like it simply means what we are doing is not working. I think everyone else is like 97% sure I won't die, but when I get nervous, I'm only 85% sure I won't die. And that 15% can be a bitch on a bad day.

I'm still trying to laugh and Mean Cards helped me do that this week. This is a line of greeting cards that are simply mean. I bought 4 of them for friends, so if you get one, it means I love you even though the card is mean. I found this one and bought it for myself.

The words are a little fuzzy, but is says "A lot of us think you're faking." With that picture of the chemo pole and the head hanging low, like he's guilty. I was laughing out loud in the store. This is what I think a lot of people at work think. I'm sure they are like, that bitch is not even sick, she's always been dramatic, she shaved her head and just wanted a solid year off of work. She's a doctor's wife and doesn't need the money anyway, this was just the way she would get out of work rather than quitting like everyone else. So for the people who think that, this card is from me to you!

This is the inside:

It reads: "not me, of course." I feel like this is a card Joe Mitton would send and I would laugh. I kept laughing while I was at the store, Tellus 360, the re-claimed wood store on East King Street. That's where I got the cards. They also had a mean magnet I thought was perfect. It now graces my fridge.

Same stick figure, holding a Martini glass saying "it will make everything all better." I agree and I can't wait to drink one. So good when it touches the lips!!

Hopefully someday soon ....

Who's That Girl?

I like to think I'm "Medium Maintenance." Not terribly high maintenance (other than those fancy shoes) but not a Tom Boy either. If you ask Paige, who we vacation with a lot, it does take me long enough to get ready to go out for a fancy dinner. I'm not a product-whore though. I put moisturizer on my face, but I don't put 4 different moisturizers on my face. Are you getting my drift?

Well, I say this only to explain how absolutely lazy I have now become. There are some people who say put your make-up on every day, regardless of chemo or hospitalization or how you actually feel. I can understand their urging. I have chosen not to do that.

There are several reasons I'm going au natural. First, it's easier. Cancer is hard enough, I'm taking the easy way out. Second, I barely leave the house. Who am I going to see? And for the poor unfortunate souls who come to see me, they have to look at my regular face. Third, it hurts. My eyes at least. The chemo affects a lot of mucosal membranes, which is why my mouth and the lining of my stomach hurt a lot. Well, your eyes are wet too. When I'm on chemo, my eyes are sensitive and red. They get irritated very easily and make-up only makes it worse. I haven't lost my eyelashes or my eyebrows. Put that in the plus column. The eyelashes are a little thinner, but let's be honest, at this point I would glue dog hair to the lids just so it looked like there was something there. That's probably not my best look though. So just like that, I've rationalized no make-up.

It doesn't stop there though. I've realized there are a lot of things I've stopped doing. Some for good reason, others for laziness, others just because I'm out of my routine. At first, I thought that when I lost my hair I would rock some really great hoops. Big earrings for a big bald head. Absolutely not. I looked retarded. Totally ridiculous. If I think of it, I'll do an earring fashion show and snap some pics. Not a good look for me. So I downgraded (if you can even call it that :-) to diamonds! Chris bought me perfect studs for our wedding and I usually wear them in second hole in my ear. I moved them up, thinking diamonds are classic and they'd look fine. They looked beautiful, but I quickly realized how much it hurts to have metal poking into the side of your head at night. With hair, the posts of all earrings are buffered a bit. With this shiny noggin' there was nowhere for the posts to go but straight into my skull. After about a week of bad sleep, I ditched the diamonds and earrings all together.

Thong underwear. I'm a fan. Typically. Years ago I decided as a semi-attractive person who wears suit pants each day, I could rock a thong on a daily basis. I don't typically find it uncomfortable or annoying. Very used to the dental floss between my ass cheeks by now. Until cancer that is. I have had two uterine surgeries and plenty of ass problems (see several previous posts) and thong underwear is a thing of the past. It just has to be that way. So instead of graduating to semi-normal regular underwear, I went straight to Granny Panties. If you're a Costco shopper, you might be familiar with them. They call them the it-sie-bit-sie brand. But there is nothing it-sie or bit-sie about these bad boys. I can pretty much tuck them under my bra (which I still wear, even cancer can't get me out of good boobage support.) I did buy them in cute pink-ish colors. But believe me, even a nice pastel pink hue can't make these look sexy when Chris is looking. The poor man. I'm a bald woman, who wears no make-up, ditched the beautiful jewelry he's given me and I walk around in underwear that looks like a 1920's swim suit. I thought I just should up the game a bit.

I was feeling well this weekend. We decided to go out to a nice dinner. I actually wore pants that were not for yoga or sweating. In fact, I had a whole fun new outfit on, thanks to my dear friend and personal shopper Chris Steltz who works at the Limited. She said I could rock the ankle length print pant (now ankle-length is cool, my whole life I've been wearing ankle length and they called me Floods - also see previous posts). I even put on heels and a WIG! (Still very uncomfortable. When I put it on, I think I spent so much money on these, I should really wear them more. But then I remember instantly why I don't like wearing them. Scratchy and the hair is always poking me in the face. If we're going for Granny Panties style comfort, bald is best.) Then I hit the mirror with my make-up bag and went to town. Putting on my "face" is like riding a bike. Right back into the swing of things. I have this process down pat. The only problem is, it's been so long since I used some of the make-up the shit is all dried up and cruddy. See, now cancer is costing me money in make-up. Gosh, is there nothing cancer won't fuck up? Anyway, I got all dolled up with somewhere to go!

This is a terrible picture. Am I really that wide or did the camera distort that photo? I'm going with, "it's the camera's fault." Also, it looks like Barlie's about to poop and who is that woman on the TV?? We were watching some really annoying shows including Jungle Gold, but I don't know what show that is. Either way. I got dressed up and made Chris take a picture.

The funniest part is I wanted to go to this restaurant we've never been to before. It's hard to get into. So I called and made a reservation, even went online and looked at the menu. Then we walk in and I say to Chris, "Wait, we've been here before. This is not where I wanted to go." Well, too late. Chemo brain took over, messed that one up. But it was nice to be out with my honey. As soon as we got in the car I ripped the wig off and threw it in the backseat and unbuttoned my pants for the ride home because I was so full. Classy as always!

I'm Hospital Happy!

Wow, what a difference a little bitching makes!

Just returned home from my two day infusion at LGH and it was like a different world! After 5 hour, 5 1/2 hour then a 6 1/2 hour wait for chemotherapy the last three times, this time the staff had the juice dripping 2 hours and 20 minutes after I arrived. A totally acceptable amount of time considering all that has to happen.

I was pissed last time. Marcia was flabbergasted. My sister was here for the 6.5 hour wait and just couldn't understand the delay. So the Monday after that hospitalization, I visited the Infusion Center at the Health Campus. One of the head pharmacists, Ryan, sat with me for more than a hour explaining how this chemo system works, why it's mixed at an off-site location, how long it takes to mix, to have the drugs couriered to the hospital. Let's be clear, it's a slightly fucked up and convoluted system. But understanding all the parts of the system helps me.

They promised to try harder. I promised to keep my anger in check and thanked Ryan for taking the time to talk to me. Squeaky wheel gets the grease sometimes. We arrived to the hospital at 8 am, my pre-meds were dripping at 9:30 and the chemo started to drip at 10:40. Huge improvement over 4pm, huh?

So this latest hospital admission was a success. Marcia was my special guest. What would I do without her? She picked me up at my house at 7:30am and slept with me at the hospital all night and didn't leave till 1 this afternoon. She an angel on earth and I so enjoy her company. We talk non-stop, about everything. We should both have laryngitis by now. Plus having her sleep over was like being in college all over again. It was fun to have a roommate! Marcia's the best and I love her.  

Another week down, lots more to go. But slow and steady wins the race and someday, someday I'll be cancer-free. Then you can spend your time reading the Onion.com rather than this drivel.