Thursday, December 8, 2011

Trudging along

The bad days are getting fewer and farther between, mostly thanks to great friends and an annoyingly patient, funny husband. I'm serious, the man does more for me than I will ever deserve, but so far, neither of us are going anywhere, so I guess I just have to live with it.

For a while after the chemo, I was recovering pretty rapidly, and I could even see the progression from day to day. Now, recovery is much slower, but I do see the progression after a week or two. My biggest achievement over the last month is my hair coming back - it's super fuzzy and for a while it was finer than a baby's, but now it's getting darker, you can see the cowlicks and the patches of scalp are getting smaller. In the past two weeks, my eyebrows have come mostly back!!! I have tweezed them twice now! I swear my hair is growing faster than it ever has - even my armpit hair, which I'm sad to say was the first to make its return.

I'm learning better how to manage my time while I'm home alone. It was really hard for a while; I felt super worthless, I wasn't contributing, I had no outside contacts...but I'm learning to be more productive, even if it's just doing the dishes and then reading. Sounds lame, but it's a big improvement from laying in bed all day (well, let's not pretend I still haven't been doing that...haha). I'm also making more friends in the ward, and I'm learning that my value doesn't come from making a paycheck, which is hard because that's the first time in 9 years I haven't been (except for the stretch where I was attending two schools at once). I'm learning to actually enjoy my time alone all day, so much that I think it will be hard to go back to work. But I'm going to talk to the PMTS owner to see if I can work there again; I don't want to go back to the barbershop.

Now let's just hope my funny starts making a comeback soon :)

Friday, October 14, 2011

I feel good today

I feel good today. And that's not something I've been able to say for a really long time. I'm (finally!!) done with chemotherapy - last Thursday was my last treatment, and it was my last good day. I was on cloud 9, knowing I'd never have to go through that again. I laughed more than I've laughed probably since my head shaving party. I also cried, and I've cried every day since, and many days before. Cancer is not easy. [duh] But I'm finished with it now, and while I don't expect that my crying days are over, I expect that my days will be getting better.

That's all for now. Slowly but surely.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

My computer isn't working, and honestly, I'm just tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I'm worn out. So, I love me some blogging, but I'm taking a break. Be back soon.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Stupid Portacath

A few weeks ago, I had a device put inside me called a portacath, hereon called a "port." It's a little catheter that goes inside my chest, below my right collarbone, and it looks a little something like this:

However, mine is a purple triangle, not a white circle. Details.

They did a surgery to put it in, and once it's inside me, it looks like this:

It connects to a vein up in my next that goes straight to my heart. Kinda scary right? It shouldn't be, but it freaks me out when I think about it too hard.

The purpose of this port is so that they don't have to stick my arms every single time I go in, and make me all uncomfortable. With this, they stick me once in the chest, in the middle of that silicon circle, and we're done with the poking for the rest of the hospital stay.

Or so it should be.

Thursday when I went in, we started with the standard poke, but for some reason the nurse couldn't get it.


No matter, she said. I'll try it again, and we'll hopefully get it right this time.


No pullback on my fluids. She went out to get the head nurse to help out.

"How are we doin today? Shall we get this port working right?


Fail. Yet again. Head nurse says he's never seen one not working, or being so stubborn. There was supposedly a clot blocking the way, so they put in some medicine to break it up with this poke. Take it out, try again.


By this point, I'm losing it. It hurts freaking bad to be poked in the same place time after time. and to try and get things running, he starts pushing and pulling on the syringe with literally all his force to get the clot out.

But ok, if the clot in in the catheter, isn't that pushing a blood clot into my heart?? So I'm freaking out, and I ask them but they say the clot would be stuck inside the port. I have no idea how that's possible, but I let them roll with it. They say they're going to send me down to Radiology where they can hopefully get it with an x-ray image.

On the way down there, I'm covered in warm blankets, bald and in a hospital gown. I look like your typical needs-a-lot-of-help cancer patient, and for some reason this gets me really emotional. There were little kids staring at me, and I tried to smile at them, but I knew all they had to be thinking was how weird, how different I looked. I couldn't handle it. I was holding back tears for the next hour.

Radiology was really great, they all remembered me from when I got the port in, which was impressive. One guy told me how much he liked my hair! ha ha ha. Plus I've cut one of the guy's hair that works there! He's next to try.


No whammies. They take a look at the x-ray, and it looks like it's just on the edge of the plastic and silicon. Keep in mind, my friends, that every waiting period takes me farther out from leaving the hospital, farther out from getting chemo started. It was 4 PM. I got there at 9.


One last, desperate attempt, that yielded no results. The doctor came in and did it via x-ray.


I couldn't hold in the swears, or the tears any more. It was too much. That was poke #7 and I was tired of feeling like a guinea pig, and also ugly. Man I felt awful.

They told me the problem was that one of my stitches felt like a knob they use to locate the silicon, and said don't be so patient with the nurses next time. If it doesn't work, ask to be sent down to Radiology ASAP so they could do it.

I desperately hope that never happens to me again.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

I'm getting too comfortable talking about my bodily functions

Last night, within two hours, I got up at least 7 times to go pee. Seriously. I wouldn't joke about something this intense. And it was in-tense! I'd go pee, then lay down and 5 minutes later, feel like I had to go so badly that I'd burst if I didn't get up. Then I'd go and it's like....a drip. Maybe two.


I'm trying to think of reasons why my body would do this. It's not a UTI because it doesn't sting to pee. I didn't drink a ton of water - in fact, every time I pee'd, it was barely any at all because it was so often.

*Gasp* You know what? I'm well aware of the date, and that a week from yesterday was my original due date for my baby.

MAYBE my body is so hyped up on HCG, and has been for 9 months, that my bladder's like, "aren't I supposed to be peeing like crazy now? You should have a 7-pound baby pushing on me, but since you don't...I'll just go ahead and make you feel like you have to pee anyway."

This whole pretending to be pregnant while actually having cancer is GETTING A LITTLE OLD.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

I told you that story so I could tell you this story

Herbal remedies: I'm a little cautious. My parents swore by them, and sometimes they worked. I've taken a few pills here and there growing up, cause it's all we had. Then I was introduced to the magical world of Modern Medicine my freshman year, and haven't looked back. I love me some ibuprofen!

You know what I love MORE than ibuprofen? Chemotherapy. Not in and of itself, but because it cures my cancer. My nurse at the Huntsman warned me against looking up natural remedies online and trying to cure myself, and it hadn't even crossed my mind. I trusted the doctors with whatever they were going to give me, and didn't want to risk any kind of setback or interference with another "cure."

So of course, it was only a matter of time before I told my friend Ali what the nurse said, and we started joking about the various other things I could do instead of chemo. Our favorite was to squirt lemon juice up there and it'd be strong enough to kill the cancer.

Not a month later - I kid you not - I get an email forward from a certain family member, aimed specifically at me, and,'d be better if I just show you.

"Lemons and Cancer

Eating a Lemon is lot Healthier than eating an Orange ........ LEMONS will clean all your INTESTINES.. Which oranges don't ...

This is something that we should all take seriously. Even doctors are now saying that there in value in trying "LEMON"

A must-read-The surprising benefits of lemon!

Institute of Health Sciences, 819 N. L.L.C. Charles Street Baltimore , MD 1201.
This is the latest in medicine, effective for cancer!

Read carefully & you be the judge.

Lemon (Citrus) is a miraculous product to kill cancer cells. It is 10,000 times stronger than chemotherapy.

Why do we not know about that? Because there are laboratories interested in making a synthetic version that will bring them huge profits. You can now help a friend in need by letting him/her know that lemon juice is beneficial in preventing the disease. Its taste is pleasant and it does not produce the horrific effects of chemotherapy. How many people will die while this closely guarded secret is kept, so as not to jeopardize the beneficial multimillionaires large corporations? As you know, the lemon tree is known for its varieties of lemons and limes. You can eat the fruit in different ways: you can eat the pulp, juice press, prepare drinks, sorbets, pastries, etc... It is credited with many virtues, but the most interesting is the effect it produces on cysts and tumors. This plant is a proven remedy against cancers of all types. Some say it is very useful in all variants of cancer. It is considered also as ananti microbial spectrum against bacterial infections and fungi, effective against internal parasites and worms, it regulates blood pressure which is too high and an antidepressant, combats stress and nervous disorders.
The source of this information is fascinating: it comes from one of the largest drug manufacturers in the world, says that after more than 20 laboratory tests since 1970, the extracts revealed that:
It destroys the malignant cells in 12 cancers, including colon, breast, prostate, lung and pancreas ... The compounds of this tree showed 10,000 times better than the product Adriamycin, a drug normally used chemotherapeutic in the world, slowing the growth of cancer cells. And what is even more astonishing: this type of therapy with lemon extract only destroys malignant cancer cells and it does not affect healthy cells.

Institute of Health Sciences, 819 N. L.L.C. Cause Street , Baltimore , MD1201

SEND TO EVERYONE ... ! ! ! ! !


I am not going to lie. I was laughing super hard at this. I bet if they injected as much lemon juice as chemo as they are right now, I'd feel as crappy as I do. Or maybe not?

It doesn't seem to cut it. There's no way. Though after Santo's story....

I just had to share.

Friday, August 12, 2011

This is just plain funny

I frequently use Skype to chat with a very good friend of mine who is currently in the Dominican Republic, waiting for her local husband's visa papers to clear so they can come to America!

Needless to say (but I will say it because it pertains to my story), they have different traditions and outlooks on life's challenging circumstances caused by amazingly different cultural upbringings.

During one of these nightly chats, her husband was telling me of a sinus infection he'd had for a while and it was really bothering him. We went over possible remedies, but one struck him that he thought might really work:

This is the face you make after squeezing half a lime's juice up your nostril.

Half a LIME!!!!

Isn't that hilarious?

The picture's not ideal - I wanted to get one of him doing the deed, but this was his second attempt and I can't imagine it was painless. However, now that I look at it again, it seems quite...perfect.

He ran away after that to deal with the pain, and days later when I talked to my friend again, she swore up and down that he was cured. Completely. With the lime.

Remember this story.

(PS I just noticed his wife in the upper left corner laughing her face off. You're welcome.)

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

An outdated conversation with my doctor

At my appointment, the good doc came in, and first things first:

"Rosanne. You are my worst nightmare."

"Well, Doc. You're mine!"

He explained the situation, which is basically that the tumor I have is a ghost and that they were pretty much doing the surgery blind. They cut out where they think it was - basically a quarter of my uterus, so they figured they had a 25% either way of getting it right!

But it wasn't all right, and when he came back for my lab results, they weren't good.

I yelled "Shit!" when he said my HCG levels went up, and I guess he's used to anger 'cause he wasn't fazed; he just kept right on talking! I guess you have to be used to anger in the oncology ward.

He told me he knew I was religious because of the school I had attended (that's a little stereotypical, Doc), so he told me that, while he wasn't a pray-er (one who prays, not the noun. Or one who preys), he gave me full
permission to do so this week if I wanted to. So I told him, "I know you're not a praying man, but if you want to be this week, that's ok." I see no reason why I shouldn't be a complete exception to his....entire way of living. Wait.

He told me he had called one Dr. S, the nation's leading specialist on gestational diseases. So I casually mentioned that if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't be learning so much. You're welcome. (I also say that to him on a regular basis, usually without being thanked).

"Doctor, if you get rich off this, I want a slice."

"How am I going to get rich off this?"

"Like I know!" I said. "But if I end up being the only person with it, and you find some cure or something, that's all I'm sayin'."

They haven't found someone else yet, so things are lookin' good!

Monday, August 8, 2011



The BEST Thing ever just happened!!!

It's like Christmas but early!!

I guest posted for a real live blog!! That is my hero of all bloggy-ness!!

I submitted a post with my friend Sarah to a blog called Rants from Mommyland about a month ago, because they were doing a series of "Domestic Enemies of the..." and then they'd list a type of mother, be it the adoptive mom, mom of teenagers, suburban mom, etc. So I thought to myself, "We need one of the moms who are Trying to be a Mom-moms!!!"

So we got it written and anxiously awaited the day for its posting.

And it's here!!!

So instead of writing about my party today like I originally planned, go ahead and hop on over to RFM to see what we have to say about infertility.

Merry Christmas!!

Here, This Will Make Your Page "Fancy"

    Friday, August 5, 2011

    Feels just like I'm washing for the last time

    Because I did. Wash my hair in the shower for the last time for months. It was very emotional, because Taylor Swift's, "You're beautiful, every little piece, love," came on, and in a few hours I just knew I wasn't going to be beautiful. Then Chris came in 'cause he heard my crying, and I showed him all the hair on the wall and he reminded me that I wouldn't have to deal with it soon enough. Not the physical side effects anyway.

    And I've decided I'm going to keep it shaved until the chemo is over with, which will be at least another month. So I better have some creative things to do to my head until then!

    My HCG levels are in the one hundreds!!!!

    Tuesday, August 2, 2011

    This post talks extensively about my pee

    When you get a major-ish surgery, the hospital does all it can to do what it takes to make you feel comfortable - if you're at a good hospital. After my "c-section" surgery, that included giving me a catheter (a tube and sac that catches your pee) so that I didn't have to move around too much after the surgery. It was a good idea, too, because the first time I did go pee, I passed out on the toilet. Apparently, that's "normal" after surgery. Thank goodness I'm not a boy!

    Anyway, this whole catheter thing was working out great for me, until at one point, I started to feel a but of pressure in my bladder. Not to worry, the catheter was there to catch all my urinating needs. But the more time that passed, the more pressure I felt. I tried to push myself to go, but my whole abdomen was pretty much useless as far as muscle control went, seeing as it had just been sliced open. So I tried to relax, thinking that was my best option. Plus, I had a friend visiting and I can't very well start talking about my pee while she's sitting on my bed.

    Wait a second. She was sitting on my bed....

    "Hey Sarah, get up and move for me will ya?"

    We called the nurse in, and asked her about the bag. She said it was looking alright, then she traced the cord back up. "Looks like we had a kink in here!" She untwisted it, and sure enough, I started going freely again.

    And going.

    ...and going

    ...and going

    ...and going

    ...and going

    ...and going

    ...and going

    ...and I kid you not, two minutes later I started slowing down. Not stopping, but slowing down. Think about how long two minutes is, then think about how long it is to relieve yourself.

    I wasn't even embarrassed. What a feat! Who knew you could pee for two minutes straight!

    Obviously, you see why I had to tell this story.

    PS for anyone who hasn't heard, I'm having a head shaving party this Friday, August 5th @ my house @ 6:30. It's also a fondue party so feel free to bring dippins.

    Saturday, July 30, 2011

    Dear Friend

    Dear the next person who tells me this is just temporary, and in 5 years I'll look back on this and see all the good things that came from it and be just oh-so-grateful;

    I hate you. We are no longer friends, and I'm sending you somewhere you can get leprosy.

    Love, Rosanne

    Wednesday, July 27, 2011

    An Actual Conversation That Took Place

    This was the way I had planned to announce the pregnancy on the blog. I found it in the archives, and thought it was too clever to pass up. Enjoy!

    Thought sound bits might make it be more realistic.


    Chris :


    Chris: !

    Rosanne: . !

    Chris: . ??

    Rosanne: ?!?

    Note: Only the words have been changed. Some of them, anyway.

    Saturday, July 23, 2011

    At Least I Don't Have A Flesh Eating Disease

    Because what do you do when your protective organ fails and you're stuck with innards exposed to the imminent death lurking in the bacteria in the...air? HOW DID TWO FACE DO IT????

    No picture today. You can imagine that one all on your own.

    Wednesday, July 20, 2011

    The Case of the Asexual Watermelon

    Let it be known henceforth that I. Love. Watermelon.

    Summer has barely been in full swing for two weeks and I think I have eaten four. By myself. That's whole watermelons. It's like bloody candy for me, and I could be wrong, but I think there are worse addictions out there.

    So it's no surprise that I don't even have to ask Chris anymore I'd like him to pick up one for me when he goes to the store. (This was a day or so after the surgery, so I was going nowhere near the grocery store, or obviously I'd be the one doing the shopping. It's my duty.) He left it on the counter, and I waited for my appetite to return to normal to start digging in.

    But, what's this? Suddenly, we find, not one, but two (2) watermelons crowding our shelves. Watermelons, I mean, they're big melons, see? Hard to miss. So, how'd we miss that there was an extra one on our shelves? We tried to remember everyone who had come to visit, and what they had brought with them, and how in Hades we had missed a large fruit being placed on our shelves! This stuff is like gold - you pay attention!

    Well, we decided to just accept that there is obviously a God, for someone to be bestowing such gifts on us without our notice must have been nothing short of divine. We cut up the first one, and let the rest sit in our fridge, as its offspring sat on our kitchen table.

    A day or so later, my friend Liz stopped by, and during our casual conversation, she saw the watermelon and said, "Oh, is that the watermelon I dropped by the other day?"

    "Wait - what? When did you bring that by?" I clearly remember being conscious every time she's entered my apartment in the last week.

    "Remember after I spent the night at your house 'cause I was babysitting you, and I left my toothbrush, and came in to pick it up when you guys were in the shower? I yelled and told you I was here, then quickly left?"

    (This is the second time she's walked into our apartment when we've been in the shower. No joke. HOWEVER, showering together not only saves us on hot water, but I was still unable to
    hold myself upright for more than 37.3 seconds. Don't be dirty.)

    "Shut UP! You brought it in then?!?! Seriously???" I honestly couldn't believe it had been so simple.

    "Yeah! I left it by the camera lens cap I needed to return! I thought you'd figure it out!"

    I was baffled. The case was solved, and I can't lie, I was a little disappointed that Gabriel himself hadn't strutted into our kitchen and placed it on our table when we were turned the other way.

    So, Liz, I guess to keep myself entertained, I'm going to have to tell myself that you were, in fact a heavenly messenger. Which means I still have your toothbrush.

    Monday, July 18, 2011

    Geico and Insurance

    This one time, I was checking in at a doctor's appointment (shocker!), and for a long time before that, I hadn't had my insurance card - I did once, lost it, then, FINALLY at this appointment I had it again!

    I expected the question, but I butted in before they could say anything and said, "Hey guys! I have really great news!"

    "Oh yeah? What's that?"

    "....I saved a bunch of money by switching to Geico!"

    It seemed so dull to preface such an exciting announcement, i.e. bringing my insurance card...wait, no. That's not exciting.

    I obviously needed to spice things up.

    I was simply learning from the master. Like when Michael Scott told the branch that everyone got $1000. He was lying, but for that moment, he had them.

    I was simply captivating my audience.

    Friday, July 15, 2011

    "It's you to a T, my beauty. My amazin'."

    Chris and I lay in my hospital bed because I'm in a lot of pain and I wanted some consolation, and I can't imagine that the recliner is too much of a relief for him.

    So I ask Chris, Will you please scratch my back? And tell me a story and/or sing me a song?

    He consented, and began a song with lyrics he must have made up to a tune I'd never heard. It was something about beards and how friends think he's weird for having one and who knows what else because my memory can't be trusted nowadays. But he says he was going to work in that it's ok that his friends don't like it because I do.

    The nurse interrupted us, and while she was checking my vitals, Chris looked up lyrics to a song he says describes how he feels about me. He starts singing a capella Bruno Mars' "Just The Way You Are," and because I've been holding in my emotions for a few days I start bawling on the spot.

    He's right, too. I don't believe him when he compliments me, or when he tells me he wouldn't change a thing about me. I'm not quite as kind. And I may not hate my laugh, but he finds it sexier than I do.

    We get to the lyric, "her hair, her hair, falls perfectly, without her trying," and amidst my sobs, I laugh and say, "That line is going to have a whole new meaning in the next few weeks," referring, of course, to me losing my hair from the chemo.

    I return the favor, and we listen to Josh Turner's, "I Wouldn't Be A Man," which reminds me of him perfectly. And I can never resist his seee....sssseeeeeee.......eeeee...xxxxxxxxx.....yyy....yyyyyy.......yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy........

    (Sorry. I just melted.)

    *cough* His sexy bass. I literally shiver when he goes deep. (That's what she said) So we listen, then the related videos of Josh Turner and we get to "Why Don't We Just Dance," and Chris shimmies and shakes and asks if I want to dance, to which I of course reply, "no," because I have tubes hooked up my wazoo and I can't barely get up to pee, and then I remember that I have the bed controls, so I say, "ok," and start moving the head and the legs of the bed up and down, so we are, in effect, dancing. He got a real kick out of that, and couldn't stop laughing for quite a while.

    I really am the funniest person I know.

    He really does tell me I'm beautiful every day.

    PS that beautiful lady at the top is my good friend Sarah Clark. She is a fabulous model and an extraordinary person

    Tuesday, July 12, 2011

    Grandma's Firewater

    I have to get more CT/MRI scans tomorrow.

    They're going to make me drink the Devil's Juice again.

    I don't mean to be dramatic*, but....

    This might be my last blog post.

    I don't know if I can survive that again.

    *I'm being ironic. Of course I meant to be dramatic.

    Monday, July 11, 2011

    Why I need to vote for Mr. Huntsman

    So. Presidential elections are coming. In 16 months. Which means everyone who wants to run has to announce that they're going to announce that they're going to run.

    Recently, Jon Huntsman decided that he would love to be a part of some of that action - I mean, who wouldn't? Well, as some of you know, recently I stayed a couple nights at the Huntsman Cancer Hospital during and after my surgery, and wouldn't you know it? I stayed in the very room that Jon Huntsman himself donated to the hospital! I don't think it makes THAT much of a difference, if it's all daddy's money in the end, but STILL.

    Therefore, Jon Huntsman, Jr. (almost) cured me of my (almost) cancer. I would be ungrateful not to vote for him.

    Friday, July 8, 2011

    Why I'm Basically Postpartum

    My HCG levels went up post-surgery, and we're going to try another chemo - a mix of 5, to be exact - before we jump into another surgery. Hooray!

    This post is TMI. You have been warned.

    These are the reasons I'm pretty much postpartum, at least from what I hear from talking to mothers.

    • I was in the hospital for 2 days
    • My privates were cut open, just like a c-section.
    • I can't drive for two weeks
    • I can't lift anything over 10 lbs for two weeks
    • I will be "normal" in 6
    • I have to take stool softener
    • I am bleeding like crazy, and it's not my period
    • They took stuff out of my uterus
    • Peeing hurts sometimes
    • My abs are shot
    • Nothing in my va-jay-jay for six weeks

    Now WHERE THE HELL IS MY F*%&ING BABY?!?!?!?!?!

    Tuesday, July 5, 2011

    How have I not mentioned how funny I am?

    Listen. I know literally all my posts lately are about medical things. And it gets boring.

    But it's literally all. I. do.

    It really is like having a baby, in that it takes up a ton of your time, thought energy -

    but I'm ahead of myself. This is about funny chemo!!!!

    I should start out by saying that I have a red birth mark the size of Texas on my right leg. It's impossible to miss if you see me in anything shorter than pants. Whenever people ask about it, I generally tell them the truth, but when I'm feeling particularly adventurous, I tell them it's from a burn when I was younger, or I pretend like I've never seen it before, and they freak out, and I'm a horrible liar so then I tell them the truth and we all have a good laugh.

    Ok, so for my first infusion appointment - when they changed from my first drug to my second drug, and I had to sit there and they pushed the chemo into an IV - the nurse was getting my medical history as far as the cancer was concerned, and she asked about any radiation I've had since the cancer started.

    "So, what about any rashes since you've started radiation? Have those been bad? Are they gone?"

    As I was telling her I hadn't done any radiation, a better idea came into my mind.

    "You mean, something like this?" And I pulled up the blanket covering my leg.

    I cannot fully express the joy that I felt as I watched her face go from confusion, to shock, to horror, to more confusion as I started laughing. And laughing.

    It's little things like that that make me happy.

    Sunday, July 3, 2011

    What do I do?

    But what I want now is advice from any of you who have had c-sections. That's pretty much what I went through, and I'm almost completely post-partum, without the baby. I can't really walk on my own, I'm not allowed to lift anything over 10 lbs for two weeks, no driving for at least two weeks - longer if I'm still on meds - and I'm sorry if this is TMI but I am bleeding worse than a period - guys I seriously just gave birth. To a tumor. (We went with Penelope.)

    But now, because of the extent of the surgery/damage, I will have to have c-sections for all my babies. It's something about the chances of rupturing, and if you've had a c-sec before, your chances of rupturing during labor next time are less than 1%. If you've had something like more than one c-sec, your chances are 1-5%, and if you've had some of your uterus extracted and therefore shrunk, such as in the case of Yours Truly, the chances of your uterus rupturing in another labor are more than 5% (closer to 10-20%).

    So. There's no way we're taking that chance, and I trust the doctors, and I can't say that I'm....disappointed by this development, per se, but I will say that it's a trip higher than Percocet to think that something's going to be one way your whole life - say, that you'll have your hoo-ha ripped open by multiple babies, you gear yourself up, try to find the positives - then, suddenly, someone tells you that's never ever an option, but instead they're going to slice your abs apart, staple you back together and call it good.

    That entire paragraph was one sentence.

    So any advice you have is appreciated. 'Cause this is gonna take some getting used to, and some prepping in a whole other way.

    PS Is that not the creepiest painting you've ever seen? I couldn't not use it. The star is from me. For propriety.

    Friday, July 1, 2011

    Breaking News: Hospitals aren't always bad!

    Doctor's appt today: test results were inconclusive. We'll see what happens next week!

    Remember when I said that if you get cancer, you should do it in Utah? The sole reason for this is because of the Huntsman Cancer Institute, part of the complex of hospitals that belong to the University of Utah Medical School, and was made possible by Jon Huntsman, Sr. - not the man now running for president oh-twelve.

    This place is the business. They take care of their own. If you are an outpatient, the nurses are friendly and fun, and the doctors are informative and considerate. Even if they give me crap for going to their rival school.

    The real fun is if you get inpatient care. Man, if you're lucky enough to get surgery for your condition, they pull out all the stops. First, you get a whole room to yourself, in a hospital that is probably teeming with people in need. They don't downsize just to make more room for more patients, ergo more money. Every room has a big screen TV, a nice view (it's hard not to when they're on top of a mountain), a pull out loveseat, virtually no limits on visiting hours, and a list of movies that you can order from at any time of the day. To watch on your big screen TV.

    Also, did I mention the food? The first thing I asked about when I knew I'd be staying there for more than a day was how the food was. They have a bistro on the 6th floor we'd been to quite a few times, and it was delish. The nurse said the hospital food was better.

    "How is it done?" I asked.

    She said they call in from local restaurants. They bring in food from chefs around town, and they give as much of it to the patients as they want!

    It was all awesome.

    You should try it. NO! Scratch that. Don't try it.

    But if you have to, try to find a place that is as good to you as mine was. You need love in a time like that.

    Thursday, June 30, 2011

    How Insensitive

    Ok, I'm sorry. I realize that to announce a surgery and then completely disregard it in my following post was a little rude. I didn't mean it. I just figured that since I already talk about it so much, the vibes were getting sent through the airwaves and on to y' Ok. Well, sorry.

    The surgery ended up being rescheduled to Friday, because they were going to try to cut me open from the inside through something, and an ultrasound was involved and another specialist doctor....well they couldn't do it Tuesday, and so Friday, we got up at 4:30 AM, packed according to the numerous instructions about what to/not to bring. And wouldn't you know it, when we walked into the reception area at 5:50 AM, I realized I had forgotten my insurance card. After being told about 400 times that I needed that and an ID. Talk about losing it. Luckily, by this time, about every office in the hospital had my info, so it wasn't a big deal until I realized I couldn't leave the hospital with the painkillers without the card. I sent someone to break into my house and bring it up, so THANK GOODNESS for good friends and extra keys.

    Then another surprise came, it was like my birthday all weekend! They reverted to doing the original surgery they had scheduled in the first place. SURPRISE! We just wanted to leave you hanging for 4 days and nothing to do, just to be dandy. Their reasons were valid (too many blood vessels in the area, they want to be able to resolve any problems quickly, yatta yatta yatta), but we were a little irked nonetheless. But I should be positive, so - no worries, it just ended up meaning that Chris missed less work, and that's a blessing, ya?

    As far as they know so far, the surgery went well. All I remember is that wonderful doctor putting me under (I love the feel of being anesthetized), then waking up periodically and saying "It hurts!! It hurts!!" And scratching my face a lot. And the nurses saying that everyone was scratching their face a lot. Who knew it made you itchy?

    I have a doctor's appointment Friday; they'll take my blood levels and take out my staples and see how I'm doing overall, and we'll know if the procedure worked the way it was supposed to. I promise I'll update then.

    Still to come:

    Why I now am obligated to vote for Jon Huntsman for president

    The Fear of more birth (fake babies may be involved)

    Why, if you get cancer, you need to get it in Utah

    and much, much more!