Now that my cancer is gone, unfortunately, the journey for me still isn't over. It won't be over for a long time, but that doesn't mean we cannot celebrate the news!
I was told before my treatment plan started that even if the cancer is gone early, I would have to complete all six total treatments. They do this because they always assume that there is some cancer that they cannot see or that could easily come back. They have also found in studies that only harm can come from stopping treatment early. As of today, I have four down and only two more to go. It is exciting, but it is almost harder being tied up in the hospital for days at a time knowing that there isn't even any cancer left. Either way, I will be done with my treatments by mid-February. After that, I will keep this "remission" status for the next five years. I will not be considered "cured" until five years after my last treatment date. I will be 26 years old. I will continue to fight for a long time, but I have no doubt in my mind that I will eventually be able to say "I am cured."
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Today, my doctor walked in and gave me the best christmas present. "You're officially in remission." Before scan, taken October 13, 2016 The brain, kidneys, and bladder all normally light up. The huge white christmas tree over my right chest would be the cancer that I started with. Halfway scan, taken December 23, 2016 The only things that lit up were all of the normal organs. The only cancer left is inactive.
Today was a good day. :) This Christmas was wonderful. It was an unforgettable time spent with family. However, there were some tears. When I opened the present from my sister, I immediately broke down crying. This is a quote that I have loved ever since I was diagnosed. She chose to include the twigs because of the strength and perservance of trees. She even saved a few strands of my hair from when I shaved it and wrapped it around one of the twigs. I am so thankful to have a sister so supportive, thoughtful and amazing.
Love you Katie! ~injustice~
Everytime I walk through the doors of the U of M Cancer Center, I have an overwhelming feeling that I don't deserve this. I look around me, everyone is at least 20-30 years older than me. I get stares from them. They look at my bald head. In my mind, I'm thinking, "Yeah, I can't believe it either." I feel like I'm in a dream. I feel like I shouldn't be there. I feel like I should be anywhere but there. Anywhere I want. I feel a sense of belonging but like an outsider at the same time. I know I can relate to the fighters around me, but can I? The receptionists and nurses treat me like a child. I hate it. I feel so aged, mentally. I look at people two or three times my age, and I know that they have never had to go through some of the things that I have. Things that have changed me. Why have I become desensitized to needles? To pain? To extremely invasive procedures? To privacy? Who deserves that? ~sadness~ The other day, after my PICC was placed, I was waiting in the recovery area. My nurse walked in, and he just stared at me for a second. I felt so uncomfortable. He took a deep breath and sighed, still looking at me. He looked extremely sad. I could feel it. I knew what he was thinking. I could almost hear it. I've heard it so many times. "To see someone so young go through this." I don't like it when other people feel sorry for me. It makes me feel like I'm dying. I didn't know what else to do but smile. He replied, "Wow, you have such a beautiful smile." I never know anymore what the "real" compliments are versus pity remarks. Moments later I heard a nurse walk into the closed off curtain room next to me. I heard her say, "From the tears I see, I'm guessing you've heard the news." I heard an old woman crying. She was speechless. She couldn't get any words out. The nurse uttered, "I'm sorry." I hate that. "I'm sorry." Thanks? She has no idea what that woman is feeling right now. If not forgotten by the end of the day, the nurse will go about her life, and sooner than later, forget all about her. She won't think about how devasting this is for her. But I feel it. I remember her. I am thinking about her. "I'll let you make some phone calls." I was speechless. I was on the verge of tears. It brought me back. I wanted to go next door and hug her. I wanted to tell her all of the things I wish I had heard when I found out. I just sat in silence. I'm not usually one to brag, but I believe I deserve a minute to express how proud I am of myself this semester.
Despite my family and doctors insisting to temporarily stop school, I deciding I had to keep going in hopes that I could graduate on time this May. I needed a distraction--something to keep me feeling normal and to help keep my mind off of my situation. I had no idea what the outcome would be. I figured my grades wouldn't meet the standard I usually hold myself to. I ended up finishing this semester with a 3.875 GPA (three 4.0s and one 3.5). I also managed to complete 26.5 out of the 40 credit hours I need. I am proud of this because despite having long periods of time that I had to stay away from the school due to a poor immune system or chemotherapy, I still managed to get that many hours in. I would say that I have outdone myself this semester. I completed it with good grades while keeping my stress level low. I hope next semester goes just as well and that I will get to wear that cap and gown in just a few months. There's nothing worse than peeling skin, especially on your face. With the dry air of the winter, I thought I would share a skin tip that I have used because my skin has dried out and peeled quite a few times after treatments!
Take a bit of coconut oil* and put it on a paper towel. Rub the paper towel over the peeling areas, then take a dry part of the paper towel and rub over the coconut oil. The rough surface of the paper towel will exfoliate your skin and take off the dry skin! *Any oil will work if you don't have coconut oil, but coconut oil is healthiest for your skin! One thing that my situation has given me is perspective.
We each have perspective. Based on our unique experiences, we all believe different things. Someone's biggest problem might just be miniscule to someone else. For instance, if you ask any college student how they are doing, most of the time they will say they are stressed. They will complain about their exams, an upcoming paper or an idiot professor. But the truth is only 6.7% of the world has a college degree. There are people all over the world that would just kill to have those problems, 93.3% of the world to be exact. There are people out their who wake up every day not knowing how they are going to eat. Instead of wondering when and where they will get their next meal, they would love to be in a warm dorm room with unlimited meal passes and no responsibilities except to learn. I've become so disappointed in humanity at times. I am tired of hearing people complain about things that they should really be thankful for. Or even worse, people who go on and on about problems that aren't real problems. I want to stop them and shake them and wake them up. We all need to wake up. I wish it didn't take cancer to show me that. I challenge you today to wake up. Step back and think about your place in the whole world. Your existence in the grand scheme of time and space. It is so small. The average lifespan of humans is only 71. We have 71 years and our only goal should be to make the most of it. I am not innocent of dwelling on "stupid" problems. I look back on who I used to be and I am disgusted. I was so vein. Losing my hair if anything changed that. I'm thankful that I have gone through this because it has truly made me a better person. It has made me into someone who is thankful. Someone who will not take their health for granted once they have it back. Someone who will never complain about something that I should be grateful for or something that doesn't matter. Someone who realizes what truly matters in life. It's interesting how the physical thing that got me writing on this website hardly comes up. Sure, the word "cancer" is sprinkled here and there, but cancer is mostly a mental journey. Most of these posts are reflections of these physical restrictions that cancer has put on my life. This awful thing really does help you find out so much about yourself and those around you.
I figured I'd give an update about my physical condition. As of tonight, I am exactly halfway through my planned chemotherapy regimen. For those who don't know, I have six, five day in-hospital infusions with sixteen days of recovery between each round. I have just completed my third round and could not be more excited that I am finally halfway. Things have been going well. Most people may think that the side effects come during infusion. Interestingly, that is wrong. It's only after the infusion that you feel physically and mentally drained, along with whatever side effects are being dealt your way. Since my first round, the side effects that come have gotten less and less worse. I don't get awful stomach aches, my overall motivation has improved, and chest pain and discomfort is absolutely unheard of. My doctor told me to take these as signs that my body is responding extremely well to this regimen. In about two weeks, I will get a PET scan which will hopefully reflect how I feel physically. Hopefully, this PET scan will prove what I feel I already know. If all is going well, most of the cancer should be gone, and the scan will reflect that. I'm scared to death for this test. I want this to work. I want to kick this thing and be done with it. This PET scan will hopefully help me fuel that fire inside of me to bust this out for the second half. Picture this.
All eight of your roommates are 21 your whole junior year. You're alone while all of them go out to the bars multiple times a week. You know you aren't going to turn 21 until about halfway until your senior year. You have a birthday countdown on your phone for about 10 months that you check at least weekly. You make plans of what you think the special day will entail. Then, one month before your birthday, you get diagnosed with cancer. You are filled with anger, knowing that you will not be able to celebrate your birthday normally. You can't celebrate it the way you want to. Furthermore, you are told you should have limited amounts of alcohol for the duration of your treatment. Tell any college senior that, let alone someone who just got the right to consume alcohol legally. It's not fair. The doctor said a few drinks here and there will not harm anything. The only concern is its effect on the liver. During chemotherapy, everything gets filtered through the liver. The liver is under extra stress, and regularly consuming alcohol could potentially effect it. I definitely will be taking him up on those "few beers here and there" because damn it this shit makes you want a drink sometimes. One thing that I promised myself is that it will not stop me from having fun. I go out to the bars frequently with my roommates, even if it means I can't be drinking alcohol. I have realized a few things since attending bars sober. 1. Ricks smells really bad. I'd describe it as a mixture of B.O. and urine. This pleasant smell was never noticed by my previously drunken states. 2. I'm a really awkward dancer when I'm sober. Those great dance moves I used to have seem to be impossible to recreate. 3. I forget how to socialize. The drunker people get, the more awkward my efforts at conversation become. 4. I don't know what to do with my hands without a glass in them. It is so much more comfortable when you can hold something. So.. you may be asking, how do you entertain yourself? My new favorite thing to do is order drinks that look alcohol and act extremely intoxicated. I often order a sprite with lime, resemblant of a vodka soda. I've become pretty good, and I often get strange/concerned looks from my friends. Hopefully i'll find some personal games and more ways to entertain myself, because being sober at bars is not an easy feat when tackled alone. |