Back To Basics

My friend Beth is in Belize and doesn't get a lot of internet service. She did get an e-mail through this week though. She said, I'm reading the blog but can't really tell how you're doing. She's right. While the cul-de-sacs and hat fashion shows are fun, I think I have to get back to basics for a minute. Here's the run down.

I still have cancer.
The numbers are low, but indicate persistent disease.
The last month the beta hCG #'s ran 5, 3, 5, 32.
Dr. Goldstein, the Boston specialist, says those lab results show a plateau (the 5-3-5), then a spike (32). Both indicate the current chemotherapy is not working.
We're switching protocols - meaning we're changing the chemo drugs we've been using. I am now resistant to them.
There are two ways I can tell that ... the hair on my head is growing in again. It shouldn't do that if my body was responding to the current chemo. Also, I'm having hot flashes and night sweats again. That's an indication that the hCG is increasing instead of decreasing.
We will start the new chemo protocol this Wednesday. I will no longer have to do an overnight hospital stay.
I will get chemo for two Wednesdays in a row, at the Chemo Lounge (with Kristin ;-) and then get the third week off. We will repeat that cycle until the hCG is less than two, then do two more cycles.
The new drugs are called Gemcitabine and Taxol. Each has it's own side effects but nothing worse than I've seen already.

I was very discouraged by this week's hCG of 32. Really, really frustrated. Tuesday and Wednesday were very low days for me and for my family. I felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel and then it faded. The phone call from Dr. Goldstein Wednesday evening was helpful. He clearly stated a new plan. I always feel better with a plan.

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.

Who Needs Hair??

People have been sending love, prayers ... and head coverings from all over.

Here's a Hat Fashion Show care of my mom's friends at her work at the Surgical Unit at Brunswick Hospital in North Carolina, her friends who own Patronies Pizza in Holden Beach, NC and 2 sassy additions from my girlfriend Jesse and her fun daughters.

Please note, I'm on steriods and my face is fat. I look like I've swallowed a small child. While chemo and steroids are a great excuse, but really I eat pasta and chocolate all day long. So while I look like hell - the hats help distract from my face.

Many Thanks to the donors. You've made me smile and are helping to keep my bald noggin warm. (It was a low of 15 degrees here the other day! Brrrr!)

These two are from Jesse's daughter's Charlotte and Maddie:

 

This starts the generous donations from my mom's work friends:

Molly is like, "What kind of crazy fashion show is this??"

 Cosmo-themed head covering ... love it!

 Barlie was feeling left out. She won't tolerate a hat or any sort of Halloween costumes though.

 I've been wearing this cozy pink one to bed since I received the box.

 This is another care package from my mom's friends who own the pizza parlor.

 At first, I thought this one was just a scarf. But upon further investigation, I found it was a scarf AND a hat. So warm and fuzzy. What will they think of next??

SO FUN!! THANK YOU TO ALL WHO DONATED!!! It means so much to me. xoxoxo

We're Back On, Baby

I've missed two chemo treatments for a total for three chemo-free weeks and I feel like a million bucks! We've also continued the up-down movement of hCG, but today, I'm back in the saddle. And by saddle I don't mean that mechanical bull I've always been meaning to try ... I mean the Lazy-Boy chair in the Chemo Lounge. It's been so long since I've sat with Kristin and laughed all day. I forget what her face looks like! But we will get really well re-acquainted today with 8 1/2 hours of drip drip.

My # yesterday was 5.5 - that makes the last four weeks:
10.9
5.9
3.5
5.5

Drivin' me nuts. But the fives and threes are so close to each other and so close to 2, I call it a wash. Still pushing 6 more weeks of chemo AFTER the magical less than two. So when co-workers say, "When are you coming back to work?" meaning, "How quickly can you get your ass back in the newsroom so I don't have to pick up your slack??" I say honestly, "It's gonna be a little while still."

No, really, my WGALers have been awesome. I've seen a few News 8 friends over the passed few weeks and everyone is so kind and really have gone above and beyond as far as filling in for the sick bitch. I'm so thankful to have such support. I want to be back as much as they want me back. My desk with Susan Shapiro needs two people. There's plenty of room for two people! ;-)

My ride/special guest/cancer buddy/mother-in-law is here to drive me to the Lounge. Gotta go. We're gonna keep on keeping on.

Cheers!

The Cul-de-Sac

This is perhaps the funniest story ever.

Warning though: remember how a couple of posts back, I mentioned that everything I post is true? That I'm sharing all of this so you get a sense of what cancer is really like. Well, that might not totally be the case here. I might be making some shit up and embellishing a little bit. Full disclosure. This is second hand, but still really good.

Ok. So post-hysterectomy I had some questions. I didn't have a full hysterectomy, Dr. Evans left my ovaries. Otherwise I'd be in full menopause right now and I'd be crying every day from hormones, instead of crying just every other day from good old fashion depression. So ovaries are a plus. But I was confused as to what happened inside. My vagina is fine. ... but without a uterus, it just doesn't lead anywhere. It's a dead end.

My best friend Jackie and I are discussing this development as only best girlfriends can. We cut through the "being proper" parts of the conversation and get right to the nitty gritty. It just ends. The doctor just sewed it up at the end and that was that. You can imagine some of the things the two of us discussed. I won't elaborate here. But we considered it all.

However, the converstation about my vagina didn't stop there. That night in the Duddleston household, Jackie made her loving husband a nice dinner and she and Ben sat down at the table and talked about each other days. (See this is the shit I'm making up. It's color commentary though. Makes the story better. You can envision them at the table, right?) During the conversation over homemade ravioli (maybe), Jackie mentioned her conversation with me.

Picture this: now my renovated vagina is the topic of conversation over dinner between two people who are not me. Jackie explains the conundrum of the dead end. Ben sits and listens, considers the anatomy and then finally comments. "Look, we should really just call it a 'Cul-de-sac.' No one refers to things as a 'dead end' anymore. That makes it sound dirty. A Cul-de-sac is a desired location in real estate. You come in, turn around and head back out. What could be better? Everyone wants a cul-de-sac. Location, location, location."

Jackie just starts laughing. They've been looking at houses and Ben's right. They'd love a Cul-de-sac. Ben said, "See, now Chris has one all to himself." Men. Hysterical. Other people's dinner conversation. Now we call it the Cul-de-sac. Thank you Ben. You and your wife never cease to make me smile. Can't have cancer without a sense of humor.

"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.