Port Removal Day

I have been in and out of being a little bit high on drugs for the past three days (sudden terrible cold), so forgive this ramble, but I am happy.

Today I faced one of my biggest fears-- I got my MediPort removed. They wouldn't let me keep it, but they showed me, it's this small heart shaped thing with a tube that went up my neck. They told me mine was even smaller coz I'm a "small individual." whatever that means.

Apparently placing it is super tricky, but pulling it out isn't so bad. They put me under twilight sleep and it felt AMAZING. I love that stuff holy cow. But it wasn't enough and I did have to ask for more during (which they gave me very quickly- thank you nurses and your liberal use of drugs). But, I did cry my eyes out when they were giving me the numbing shot, and screamed "it hurts, it hurts it hurts" and bawled and then apologized for bawling but the twilight sleep stuff had made me unable to control my emotions, hahah. Anyway, after that I just tried to sleep. and then it was over. I relaxed for a while in post-op, then Phyllis came (with coffee!), and took me home. I checked in around 8AM and was home around 12:45PM. Not too bad.

I slept for awhile longer, woke up and got a bagel delivered (thank you for existing, GrubHub), and slept some more.

I just want to say that my BF is the sweetest thing ever and has been so nice to me today even though I know he really wants to tell me to buck up and be tough-- he hasn't said it at all today. Just that he wishes he was here and that he loves me and I'm cute. Just what I needed. And that is awesome.

So, even though I am hacking up a lung, am throbbing with pain in my chest from getting cut open, I am overwhelmed with emotions about what it means to no longer have a port and thus no more easy access to my bloodstream if it is needed and what that means for future treatment... and the most cogent thoughts I can produce are currently going into this blog and not the pile of work I have on my desk... well, despite all that? I love life and I am happy.

Happy End of January Y'all!

1,084 miles is so far

we are alive in the present moment, the only moment there is for us to be alive

We can smile, breathe, walk, and eat our meals in a way that allows us to be in touch with the abundance of happiness that is available. We are very good at preparing to live, but not very good at living. We know how to sacrifice ten years for a diploma and we are willing to work very hard to get a job, a car, a house, and so on. But we have difficulty remembering that we are alive in the present moment, the only moment there is for us to be alive.

THICH NHAT HANH, Peace is Every Step

Thursday morning at 8:30AM EST I will get the 1 year scan results. Not falling apart. Staying present. Staying present. This is the only moment there is to be alive.

1 Year Post SCT Scan

Tomorrow morning at 11AM I will be sucking down room temperature blueberry barium smoothie, getting my veins injected with radioactive isotopes, and trying not to move for 45 minutes in the tiny hole of the pet-ct scanner. This will be my 8th PET scan, and I am pretty much a pro at it now.

I remember to:

1. Limit carbs and anything that will spike my blood sugar the day before (the isotopes find metabolic activity)

2. Wear a sports bra and no metal in my clothes (getting an excuse to wear fleece hoodies and yoga pants out in public = kind of an awesome consolation prize), that way I don't have to change clothes in the locker room and put them in the weird plastic bags with drawstrings.

3. Order a cab (luxury!) and take a relaxing bath the night before to try and relax my mind and body before the test

4. Most important: remember the zen things I've learned over the last two and a half years since I was diagnosed. I can't predict the future, I can't change the past, I can't even control the present. I can only wake up every morning and try to make each day healthy, productive, and beautiful. The week between getting the scan and getting the results is so hard on me, I find it difficult to concentrate on anything else but wondering if my entire life is about to fall apart again, but I do my best to be zen.

I am not afraid of death anymore, but I am actually terrified of more treatment. I can't express how awful it was. I think your brain protects you from feeling the emotions of being so sick until you are really feeling better. It's almost like my body knew I had to fight it out and pretend I was feeling fine/strong, until I actually was. Now that my life is pretty much put back together (and actually better than before because my heart is happy), the thought of losing it all again is so much worse but it's just now hitting me.

I am trying not to look at stats because for my particular set of risk factors, they aren't really that good. But, a clear scan tomorrow could be huge. It's a year after SCT and that's a good sign, as the most difficult relapses occur within the year. I always say that I am just waiting til that 5 year scan, then I will have peace of mind.

But I think in the last few months especially, I've realized that I don't want peace of mind if it means not taking every day seriously and wondering if it will be my last. I think that is a gift that cancer has given me.

I don't take anything for granted and I am so grateful. I am grateful to be able to walk down the street to the bus, to dance and run, I am grateful for all my limbs and organs, I am grateful for my hair even though it's short, I am grateful for my incredible job that makes me feel like I am fulfilling the purpose of my life at 29, I am grateful that someone loves me, I am even more grateful that I can feel and give love too after being so afraid, I am grateful that I can sit here with all this nervous energy and type it out til I'm exhausted... I am grateful for uninterrupted sleep and hot bubble baths!

Anyway.

Results Thursday 1/12/12.

Until then, stay cool!