ugh

The last three days have been bad. Losing my voice was just a precursor to the beginning of Mucusitis. Again, the chemo attacks mucousal membranes and my mouth is one of them. All that soft pink tissue that makes up the lining of your mouth ... it's under siege right now. It's certainly not as bad as it was in 2009, but the goal is to keep it from getting that bad. They had to admit me into the hospital then because I couldn't swallow. I was on an IV "liquid food" diet for two weeks. For now, I'm just on mush. Pastina, apple sauce, protein drinks and ice pops. The cold of the ice pop helps ease the sores on my tongue and the sides of my mouth. I can't even open my mouth wide enough to see in the back or to stick my tongue out all the way. So technically, I can't even see if there are sores, but let's be honest, I feel them. So I eat an ice pop, wear a warm beanie on my head and sit with the electric blanket to keep me from getting the chills.

Alright, enough complaining ... let's keep our eye on the prize: the numbers! My number on Wednesday continued in the right direction - dropping from 67 to 28! Boo yah! We ARE killing cancer! I was so pleased with that drop. It's the only thing that keeps me going. If that number goes UP for some reason, you can find me hanging from a tree outside. It's the only thing that keeps me focused on getting better and helps drown out the pain. So while the hCG # is nothing short of beautiful, three other numbers were nothing short of too low to be healthy. My white blood cell count, red blood cell count and my platelets (those damn platelets again!) are all too low to receive chemo. They wouldn't infuse me on Wednesday, just some booster shots and get back to bed. There's another thing (I use that word loosely because I really don't know what it is) some "thing" called Neutrophils and they are dangerously low too. That's actually a big problem. In addition to the blood levels being low, with almost no neutrophils I could pick up pneumonia if the dogs sneeze. It just makes me very vulnerable to germs and infection. Isn't cancer fun?!? Kill me now. I spend more than half the day in the bed - thinking about all the things I could get done. It's an inactive state of frustration that is driving me mad. But "the body needs to heal" and other such things my mom tells me to calm my fears and frustrations.

Speaking of my mom, she and Bruce came to visit for Easter. While I slept, they turned into little garden gnomes and planted nearly all of my pots, less for the two that Jeannette and Beth planted when I got home from the hospital. I called those girls my Garden Gremlins, but I feel Gnomes is nicer. It just doesn't have the actually alliteration sound, you know, because of that silent G and all.

Either way, here they are at work.

Doesn't my mom look bad ass throwing the mulch out of the back of the pick up truck! Hard core gardening at the Cooke House!

She and Bruce planted beautiful flowers around my rocks, give the place a little color. Marigolds in front and get this ... flowers called Cosmos in back! How appropriate!

All my pots are saying, "Spring is here. Meredith should be out to play soon!"

Peach Fuzz?

Ok, today I am actually a mute.

For some people, they've been waiting for years for me to shut up. Well today, you got your wish. This mouth is giving me a really hard time. I am voiceless right now. My dad called and it was like whispering sweet nothings to him over the phone. I could not project anything audible. Thankfully, he's like me ... he can talk a lot ... so it was a good, albeit mostly one sided conversation.

Given my near-Helen Keller status, I haven't been to work in two days. Mondays and Tuesdays should be my best days and I've making it to work a lot of them. No go this week. What is the point of trying to interview someone if you have no voice in which to ask the questions? Plus, I'm big on the phone at work and I sound like a scary stalker with a breathy voice on the other end of the line. I feel like the potential interviewees will wonder why I'm not asking, "What are you wearing?" rather than, "Can we come interview you?"

It's me and the beasts at home. I'm reading some good books, trying to stay away from the Real Housewives franchise. (That's not true, I hate that show. All the women do is yell at each other. It makes me nervous, like actually anxious watching it.) The girls in my 'hood would make a killer Real Housewives of Lancaster County though! We could have buggy races and throw whoopie pies at each other. It's an untapped resource right now. I think we could make it big.

The only real thing that is big right now is my head. I have lost a total of 4 pounds on cancer. Like really??? You would think I could at least waste away to nothing just in time for bathing suit season. When instead I drop 4 lbs and that was probably just the weight of my hair! So my noggin looks big and it's got some growth too. Peach fuzz. Well, half a scruffy man's beard and half soft peach fuzz. There are two distinctly different kinds of hair growing up there. And after wearing my wig for Easter Dinner, I have a small red rash to go with it.

(Sidenote: I bought 3 wigs. I thought it would be so fun. If I had to do this again, I'd save the money and get just one that does not have bangs that poke you in the face. They are not as much fun as I thought. Plus, they are hot and uncomfortable. Taking it off at the end of the night is like taking off your bra after a long day. You just have to rub around and let the area breathe!)

While there are no Easter Bunny Ears here ... can you see the fuzz?

I've also kept my eye lashes and eye brows so far. Definitely a plus. My eyes are a mess too because they have a mucus membrane that the chemo attacks - not my best look but this is what cancer does to you. Damn Cancer!

Happy Easter! From the Egg Head

I tried to be like the Easter Bunny, but instead of having Energizer Bunny power, I was more of a Hibernating Bunny this weekend. So sleepy.

This is a tougher week, with Day 1 and Day 2 infusions, plus the Methotrexate shots. The shots are so easy that sometimes I forget it's poison. Kristen gives me two of the doses, then Chris gives me the weekend ones. Can you envision Chris coming at me with a sharp needle pointed at my ass cheek?!? I'm facing the other direction when he does it, but you can imagine he might get this look in his eye as he's lining the two up!! To be fair, he's so good that it doesn't hurt at all. He's so good when he puts his hands on my ass! (a little too much?? hehe)

So these shots are kind of a bitch because this drug is the one that causes the Mucusitis - which put me in the hospital for 14 days last time. We're managing it really well right now, but I can feel my mouth throb sometimes and I get nervous that I'm going to have a full blown problem. My first line of defense: sleep. When I'm asleep, I'm typically comfortable and not in pain. If I could sleep this whole damn cancer away ... I would. I never asked Dr. Evans about a medically induced coma while going through chemotherapy, but I might do that this week. Wake me up when my hair starts growing back.

Other than sleep, I have Magic Mouthwash. All I know is it has Lidacane (sp?) in it. In other words, my mouth goes numb and I can't feel a thing. Wonderful! Better living through chemicals. I try not to take this before I'm about to eat a delicious meal because I wouldn't taste a thing and I'd drool all over the plate. But for the occasional "ooh, my mouth and throat hurt" pain, I swirl up some of that stuff. It really is Magic.

This side effect is really just a lot of coughing and spitting and blowing my nose and losing my voice and having a sore throat. Really pretty stuff. But it could always be worse and we're doing fine right now. So while we were 67 last week - we're keeping our eye on the prize this week - and hoping for the best ... even if I hack up a lung before we get there!

That's what I'm talking about!!

People might keep asking me How Much Longer? While I don't have a date, I do have these numbers.

We started at 64,000; three weeks ago we were down to 290; last week was 247; yesterday's number: 67!!!  Take that bitch ass cancer! Sixty-fricken-7! Can you see the light at the end of the tunnel? It's not the bright light telling me to "Come home!" It's the light of zero, the light of my hair will grow back, the light of I will be cancer free. We. Are. Getting. There.

I won't get too ahead of myself. There's still a lot to do. Including 6 weeks of chemo even after we hit zero. But a bald girl needs a little bit of good news and that 67 did it for me!!

Marcia was my special guest yesterday and it's always wonderful to have her bright smile and always upbeat attitude around. You can be sad around her. Today, my girlfriend from college is taking the day off to bring me to chemo. Lisa (Melillo) Harris and I ran cross country and track together, ran the Harrisburg Marathon together in 2004, and have stayed friends despite being, er, 10 years (!?!?) out of college! She and I would drink cheap beer together in college ... but we'll aim for expensive cosmos when I'm finally better. Can't wait for "Good Girlfriend Catch-up Time" with a side of chemo!

67, people! Let's do this! xoxoxo

Where does it hurt?

Today is Day 1. Chemo today and tomorrow and the shots and on and on and on. And so it goes. People keep asking, "How much longer do you have to do this?" It's a valid question. But it also seems to be the question - like when you're pregnant and every single person asks when you're due. I'm sure by the end of 3 months, most mothers-to-be want to have that shit tattooed to their forehead. Well, I don't even have a date to get tattooed. "Several months of aggressive chemotherapy." That's the sentence the Boston doctor said. So ... several months, I guess?

We do have that marker though. The hormone level. It started at 64,000 and now it's just 249. Like, Holy Shit, how amazing is that drop?!?! It dropped from 298 to 249 last week - not as dramatic but still heading in the right direction.

My worry is that it will start just creeping down now. Every single point will be a big deal. I just want it to be zero so badly. Maybe today??

In the meantime, I'm a little achy all over. Chris - in true doctor form - asked, "Where does it hurt?" All I could say is, "All over." How's that for being specific??

It Takes a Village

I'm not a big Hillary Clinton fan, but the Secretary of State might be right on this one. It does take a village ... if not to raise a child, at least to get through Cancer. Given a village of my own, I always thought there's a chance I could be the Idiot. But it turns out my village is so kind no one would call me the Village Idiot ... at least not to my bald face!

So so so so so many people have helped, are helping, continue to offer to help, are looking for some way to help. I'm so overwhelmed by the generosity of people who are really very, very busy and have their own lives to worry about. Every time I hit the mailbox there are wonderful and hysterical cards. My friend Todd who I know from work and his family took a break from the hysterical get well cards they've been sending and went with the Easter theme. He double dog dared me to put this one on the blog. I don't easily bend to dares ... but this card had me in stitches ... so me and my two dogs (double dog) are taking the dare.

"Wowee," thought Myrtle, "Somewhere there's a chicken with a really sore vajyajya!"
ONLY in America can you get a greeting card with the word vajayjay on it! Classic! Thanks Todd and fam!

This sickness sucks, but the cards are so great! It's like better than Christmas card season or even Wedding RSVP season! When we were engaged, I loved nothing more than going to the mailbox to see who cleared their schedule to come to our wedding and reply with a resounding YES and who was going to miss the event of the year ... their loss. I still saved all the Yeses with the fun notes from people. I'm a pack rat, and some day I will sit down and go through all those response cards and remember who loved us!

It's the same with these cards. It's like a little ray of sunshine every time I get an envelope. People write the funniest stuff too ... not a single card has been blue or depressing ... all upbeat and perky which helps keep me that way.

When Jackie came to visit she helped me hang some of the cards. After stringing up dozens of them, she took a step back, looked at the loot and said in her perfect Jackie way, "Geez, if only people weren't so damn selfish and they would just send you a card!" Sarcasm has always suited her!!

Can you see the one front and center with the large man playing golf on the beach that says, "Geez, I hope this visor doesn't make me look fat!" Kills me every time!!

Jackie's sense of humor is another ray of sunshine. Through two bouts of cancer and other unfortunate situations, Chris and I have cancelled about 25 vacations over the last couple of years. We had grand plans for Mexico with the Salvos, we were headed to Puerto Rico when we had a work conflict, three weeks ago we should have been in Antigua. Check out where we would have stayed. Better than Lancaster?? Um, yes! Blue Waters, Antigua But in grand Jackie fashion, she provided us with some sunshine alternatives:

Fun in the Sun Activity book! Complete with our friends already the beach! That's Stephen on the surf board. Ben is in a boat inside, even Tracy, Action Jackson and New Baby Noah are on our tropical adventure!

Let's be honest, when you need a good laugh, you need a village full of funny people. Thanks for being my village!

There's something about feeling effective

Wearing the wig needs an attitude. Today, I have that attitude. I put it on this morning, ran my fingers through it and then winked at myself in the mirror. Every time I felt like it was a groundhog on my head, I thought of that sass. That makes all the difference.

I did a lot of sitting last week. I didn't even try to not sit. I have a list of things I can do: Continue to hang all the wonderful Get Well Cards, organize our DVD's, pair all the unpaired socks, file the bills instead of letting them pile up in one spot for 12 months. There's always plenty to do. But I just did nothing.

My first reaction to that lethargy is disgust. I would like to accomplish something. I don't feel like I've earned my spot on this planet if I can't produce something meaningful. It's like a weight on my shoulders, a guilt I can't shake. But I'm so tired. So I just sit.

In my sitting ... and my wonderful, non-stop talking with Ashley ... I came to one rationalization. Wednesdays and Thursdays are big days. The chemo is important. It's killing the cancer beautifully. But while I put a lot of importance on the actual infusions, that's just getting the poison in there. After I leave the chemo room, the drugs are still pumping through me, hunting down those nasty little cancer cells. It's that micro-biological battle that's probably making me so tired. If there's a world war going on inside your body, you should probably just lay down and let the sides duke it out. Don't give the chemo any more work to do by organizing the house paints while the drugs are trying to shrink tumors. At least that's what I came up with. So I sat.

It's been wonderful to be back at work on Monday and Tuesday. If I'm not a great journalist, at least I'm a prolific journalist. When operating at 100%, I can turn a package, two vo-sots and a live shot or two with no problem. Now, I'm thrilled to get one interview done. I'm not as speedy but I'm still as dedicated to producing something worthwhile at work. It gives me a sense of value and I like that.

You know what else gives me value?? Hysterical presents like this one ... from Jeannette. Wait till I should you the leather one!!

What better to accent your noggin' than a feather headband??