DISCLAIMER:

DISCLAIMER: I reserve the right to curse on this blog. If you are offended, too f$%&ing bad. As a result, content might not be appropriate for small children.

Also, my spelling is terrible ... even with spell check. I apologize in advance for any errers.






Thursday, July 26, 2012

The Amazing Mrs. Mitton

Anyone who knows me well knows that Joe Mitton is my best friend and former work husband. We have since divorced because I helped him get another job. It's the last time I do that for a friend who I want to stay at WGAL. No nice recommendations anywhere for you, Andy Manifold!

I was also Joe's Best Man at his wedding. Yes, his Best Man. I liked to refer to myself as his Best Person, but let's not get all PC about it. He threatened at first that he was going to make me wear a tuxedo, but I did get to wear a Best Man dress. Right before we stepped out to the altar for Joe's wedding, I started to lose it. Choking back tears, I said, "Joe, seriously, I don't think you picked the right person." He said, "Um, no. You're wrong. I think Juliet and I are perfect together." Which of course, in true Joe fashion, made me laugh and stop crying. I said exasperated, "No, I mean for your Best Man. Juliet is wonderful. I'm a Best Man mess!"

That's just one of a gazillion funny Joe and Mer stories. It's no wonder Joe is so funny and wonderful though when you meet his mother, Maria. As the mother of nine (yes, NINE!! Joe is #3, I think. Don't make me name them all in age order. I'll definitely leave someone out.) Mrs. Mitton has obviously done something right. Her caring and kindness has be evident throughout my entire illness.

From funny cards, to inspirational gifts, even a Happy Hamster Hallmark book that talks ... Mrs. Mitton has helped keep my spirits up the whole time. This week she helped mark the end of my chemo treatments with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. I got sunflowers from my mom and Bruce and roses and daisies from Mrs. Mitton. When you walk in my house you can tell something special has happened. It's not everyday you get a "Congrats on the end of chemo" flower delivery. That's something special.

But my favorite Mrs. Mitton gift has got to be this one:


My very own Bald Beauty!! How hysterical is this?!?! Meet Sophina, the True Hope Moxie Girl! She comes with two outfits, a knit hat and a cue ball head!!! What will they think of next??

I don't know who came up with this idea and how the conversation went around the corporate board room table. "Let's corner the market for little girls who have cancer and are going bald. I bet we'll be able to sell hundreds of these at St. Jude Children's Hospital!" Well, even if their target audience was small children affected by cancer, this 32-year old child is LOVING this doll.

You know how Suri Cruise doesn't go anywhere without a stuffed animal (and high heels? No wonder why they are always carrying her!) I am not going anywhere without my Bald and Beautiful dolly Sophina.

Thank you so much Mrs. Mitton. You've made this cancer journey fun! That's not easy to do. My hat (and my hair) are off to you!! xoxox

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Aunt Dor: Kick Cancer's Ass, Literally

Alright, after last night's post, I realize I'm a little depressive right now. So I'm trying to regroup today and look at the positive side of mucusitis. I no longer have to have chemotherapy and this is the last time I will feel like this. There are so many wonderful people who have been my cheerleaders throughout this ordeal and they're all lined up meeting me at the finish line. When I feel like shit, I will think of you all and smile (if it doesn't hurt too much).

I was never actually a cheerleader but a recent pick-me-up piece of mail reminded me what I did do in high school:
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I love Aunt Doreen. She's my mom's youngest sister and the silliest of the aunts! She's sometimes technologically challenged but with the help of my 13-year old cousin Alison, Dor is making it into the 21st Century. She's been reading this blog and is so proud she mastered that. So I thought we would honor her efforts with a funny post.

People often say "Kick Cancer's Ass!" I'm all for it. You know I'm pro-cursing, so the fact that there's an expletive in there only makes the phrase that much better! It's even ok to say this in public. No one is going to shoosh you when you're making such a profound, anti-cancer statement. But it does get me thinking...
In my case, Kick Cancer's Ass is pretty dead on. Unlike Farrah Fawcett (may she rest in peace) I don't have rectal cancer. But the uterus is in the same general area. (I can't imagine answering that question over and over again. "What kind of cancer do you have?" "Umm, it's rectal cancer. Yes, ass cancer." Ask Joe Mitton. I'm pretty sure that's a South Park episode.)

The other thing is I kept having to get those shots in my rear end. So while Cancer was literally getting me in the ass, I in turn, was trying to kick it in it's ass.

So I had to chuckle when Aunt Dor fished this photo out of the achieves: I know how to kick alright!



This is my Kickline picture from 8th grade, circa 1993. I didn't make the cheerleading squad (thank god, in retrospect) so I settled for the kickline. With 4 feet of leg, I was destined to throw them in the air. The note says, "Mer, Keep up the "Team Spirit!" ... Dor. Love it! I don't know if you can in the pic, but my bangs: atrocious; the gloves: ridiculous; the shiny stockings: if only I got a job at Hooters after this I could have worn them under the short orange shorts instead of the red and white pleated skirt; the blue socks: retarded - it was our last ditch effort at getting some blue in the outfit because once the school's combined we went red, white AND blue. Patriotic Smithtown! And somewhere, there is a picture just like this of Katie Lynch. I'm going to go through the boxes in the basement right now just to find it!
Love the blast from the past and yes, I'm trying to keep up the team spirit! It's good I have such a wonderful team!


Tuesday, July 24, 2012

I'm Done With Chemo, But Chemo Isn't Quite Done With Me

There's a finish line, right? Like someone holding up a white piece of tape that I can run through with my arms in the air. That way I can cheer and laugh and cry and collapse into a ball because I'm so exhausted from this cancer that I can't bear to stand anymore. I'm envisioning one of those shiny silver foil blankets they give out at the end of marathons. Is that was the end of cancer looks like? Because there's no white tape, no foil blanket. We're not there yet.

It's been 6 days since the "Cisplatin Incident" - it sounds like it could be a Michael Creighton novel. That was a shitty day and although I make everything sound more dramatic (and hopefully funnier) than it actually is, that shitty day is ruining the rest of my week. That Benadryl is like crack. Does crack make you fall asleep or keep you up? Maybe it's like pot - that makes you sleepy I think. Well, whatever illicit drug it's most closely related to ... I slept for the next two days. It's as if I could feel the shit pumping through my veins, waves of it washing over me, making me drowsy but in a nice "ahh, I'm just going to rest on this cloud and close my eyes for just a bit" way. So Thursday and Friday were shot.

We went to the beach for the weekend. My goal there is to sit my ass on the chair facing the water for as long as possible. I envision the healthy cells kicking the shit out of the cancer cells every time I hear the waves crash on the beach. To me, it's like the sound of relaxing calm and cancer death simultaneously. This weekend, it didn't work. All I wanted to do was sleep, inside, not near the ocean, in the climate controlled environment of the apartment. That's a shitty day if I want to be inside rather than on.the.beach.

Sunday night I can tell it's going to be bad. The impending mouth infection. It's creeping. In the past, the sores would have sprouted by Sunday. But this last bout of mucositis is taking it's time to kick in. And it's brewing.

Monday my mouth looks like a leper slept in it. It's gooey and crusty at the same time. Is that possible? It hurts a bit inside my mouth, like down my throat and on the inside of my cheeks - that's nothing new. But these sores all around the edge of my lips make it impossible to drink a cup of water. A straw, you say? I tried. Even worse because I have to make my lips make the "O" shape and that hurts like a motha. Mushy foods, if it all. I've lost 4 pounds. That's the only silver lining.

Can't move my lips much, but I can nearly move my hair! It's almost long enough to brush!

"Other" areas are bad too, but that cannot be discussed in this forum. I'll save that for the 50 Shades of Grey edition of my cancer book. I'm in pain, but more than that, I'm annoyed. I'm tired. It's over - the chemo. Never again. It's just that the finish line is a little further away still.

Will someone be waiting there for me ... with a foil blanket and a Cosmopolitan?? I could really use a Cosmo.

Monday, July 23, 2012

WGAL: Part 4 - The Wig Lady

WGAL has been so wonderful and supportive during my cancer treatments. I'm always reminded of how my boss DanO took the sting out of telling him I was sick again with a little humor. He said, "I checked the Employee Handbook and you're totally allowed 2 bouts with cancer. It's 3 time when we cut you off." Amen, Brother. If we get Cancer #3, Chris is just going to take me out back and shoot me!

It's been devastating to be out of work for so long. I worked through a lot of Cancer #1, but that was Little Girl Cancer and I learned quickly this time, that Big Girl Cancer was a different story. But it's all the stories I've missed at WGAL that make me melancholy. I monitor all the e-mails that come in, watch the newscasts and get WGAL Breaking News Alerts on my I-Pad. It's just not the same.

Good old Lancaster City has had it's share of shootings and stabbings. Always makes for a good story and 5:00 and 6:00 live shot! (That's the slightly warped way journalists deal with tragic events!) I missed the whole Sandusky Trail. WGAL's coverage was second to none! Aces, as always. I love the energy of the newsroom when we are at are best, covering the breaking news, the stories that matter. It gets my blood pumping. Right now, the only time my blood is pumping is when I have to walk up a flight of stairs - blood pumping and some huffing and puffing, too!

All I wanted to do was sit at my desk and hear the collective gasp when Ann Curry announced she was leaving the Today Show. I wanted to call our Noon Producer Lauren right away for her take. She and I had a good time making fun of the outfits Ann would wear and how she would talk so fast you couldn't understand a word she was saying. I mean, it's sad her co-anchorship ended as it did, but there was no love lost for me. That's the morning you want to be with all your Newsie friends and dish about the industry gossip. I miss it there. Hopefully, without the poison pumping in, I will now get strong and head back to work at 100% - a new, cancer free person to share the desk space with Susan.

Here's the link to my 4th and final Cancer Journey story. Many thanks to the Managers for letting me do this series, to Kim Lemon for her gracious anchoring of them, and most of all to Andy - my friend and photographer - who really brought life to what could have been very depressing stories. You all helped keep me afloat.

WGAL: Part 4 - The Wig Lady