The Family Plate

On Valentines Day this year we all went to the Painted Pot and made some cool pottery. If you haven't been, it is a studio where you can paint or make mosaic art to your heart's content. Then you leave your creations with the wonderful pottery worker bees and they steam it or burn it or fire it or churn it or whatever they do to make it look marvelous. Then you pick it up a week later.

With everything going on we forgot about our pottery. Yesterday I knew something was nagging at me- besides this unforgiving nausea I'm fighting- and it hit me our pottery had been at the Painted Pot for weeks. I dashed over there hoping they hadn't thrown out our hard work- our priceless, gallery worthy, and somewhat costly ART!

We made a serving plate with all our hand prints. The girls had a ton of fun and Noah had a blast. He loved having all the paint squirted on his hand but it was quite the task to get him to press his hand firmly on that plate and hold it for 10 seconds...pressing each little bitty finger down separately so it would come out just right. I think we all did a pretty good job!



The picture doesn't do it justice, I swear. We trimmed the plate in black and the hand prints and lettering really pop. Every single member of my family is much more artistic than I am so I needed a lot of help. The stick people I draw run screaming from me...it's that bad.

Here's how the discussion went down as we were about to paint the letters:

Cathy- "Daniel, there shouldn't be an apostrophe in our name, should there?"
Daniel- "Yes, that's our name- just plural."
C- "No, an apostrophe implies ownership. We don't own anything (ain't that the truth.) We're just saying The Kendricks and this is what our hands looked like in 2010."
D- "We own the plate."
C- "Ok, can we just do The Kendricks? I think the apostrophe is grammatically incorrect."
D- "It looks better with the apostrophe and again, it's The Kendrick's plate- we own it."

Can you see where I'm going here? It was pretty funny talking in circles about an apostrophe in front of the laughing sales clerks. If any of the Communication Arts smarties can back me up here I'd appreciate it. :) If Daniel is right- well, ok- post that too.

I made a small anniversary cake with our 'married' monogram and date. The girls painted various slimy creatures and Noah tried his hand at a salamander but mommy ended up painting most of it.



Those were only $2 each and they were a ton of fun to make.

Back to Daniel. He has been just wonderful. He's pretty stressed and a lot of times it shows, but he does everything he can to make things easier for me.

We have family in from out of town and last night we went to dinner. It was getting late and all the kids were very, very tired. Noah wanted to cuddle and he plopped his head- - you guessed it- - smack on my left side where I just had surgery and still have plenty of blisters from that dag tape they put on it. Let's say his head weighs- oh I don't know- four pounds. The pressure of his little head on the 'wound' and blisters was almost unbearable. I refused to move him. He was tired; he was looking for solace from his mom. I cringed and cringed and the tears starting coming; he must have hit it just right. I stroked his little fine hair and he began to close his eyes. Daniel noticed my tears and said "Oh, sweetie...." and gently removed Noah and took Noah's weight onto himself. Not a big ta-doo, no drawing attention. He just knew I was in pain and I wasn't going to move that boy myself when he needed me. I'm sure Daniel didn't even mean it as such- but what a nice analogy of a marriage.

The family went out to brunch today and I am home to rest. It's beautiful out and I'd rather be outside. I've been trying to be 'normal' this week but yesterday I really started to notice a difference. Carrying Noah for too long winds me. It isn't earth shattering- I just have to pace myself more now.

On a brighter note, the lump is already gone!! Can you believe it? I'd been told by a few people with the same disease that sometimes just one chemo session makes a sizable difference in any symptoms or physical lumps. In the last two days we noticed it getting smaller (look back at the wig pictures before chemo even started. I'm telling you, it was hardly visibly noticeable at all but you could feel it by touch... probably a little smaller than a golf ball inside the neck) Now you can barely feel it at all. That must be some type of good sign, right? Hopefully the drugs are in there obliterating those cancer cells!

As a final note- some of your comments absolutely crack me up so keep them coming. I'll give just one as an example. From my great friend Faith that I met in Steelville, the very small town in which I attended high school:

Let me know if I can do anything. You know you have friends here in Steelville that could have a fund raiser or a hog roast or something to benefit you! Let me know! I love you! faith



I am soooo not making fun of Faith, or of Steelville for that matter. In fact I wrote Faith before posting this to be sure she didn't think I was poking fun at her. For some reason I find the offer of a hog roast in my honor one of the funniest things I've heard in a long time. I love you Faith, and while I'm not worthy of a fund raiser in my honor- your post cracked me the heck up. :)

Thanks all for your uplifting comments.

In the red corner, weighing (none of your business)...Cathy! In the blue corner, attempting to dominate nodes and organs...Cancer! Chemo Round One

Before my chemo session I had a consultation with the radiation people that I rescheduled from last week. I was on information overload and since I won't be enduring radiation for at least four months, I thought it could wait. I have all the respect in the world for doctors and their recommendations but sometimes you just have to do what's right for you. I rescheduled the session for the same day as chemo to save myself multiple trips, and possibly a copay if I was visiting the office once...for two procedures/meetings. The receptionist didn't charge me at all but I think she just forgot.

The radiation chic and I discussed my upcoming radiation. This will begin once chemotherapy is complete; again the confusion around why I have to learn about this now with so much other information floating around in my head. Basically she discussed what to expect and the plethora of side effects I may experience- from a continual sun burned glow in the radiated areas (at least it will be June) to extreme fatigue. They will keep the radiation above my diaphragm and focused on my 'mantle,' both sides of my neck and my chest where the cancer resides.

She spoke quite a bit about my increased risks for breast cancer and lung cancer in the future because of the radiation. That wasn't fun to hear. I already knew my treatment was being split between chemo and radiation to try and lower adverse future reactions (different cancers and diseases) from each.

It's confusing, but this means: If my treatment was completely chemotherapy, I'd have a lengthy set of predispositions to bad stuff, and various diseases. If my treatment was completely radiation, I'd have a lengthy set of predispositions to other bad stuff and diseases. Essentially by treating me with half of each- now I'm exposed to aaaalllll the bad stuff, but not as severely as if they did straight chemo or straight radiation. Whew! That's a good thing. Yeah, that's right- it's a good thing that I get both. Remind me of that by this afternoon when it gets confusing again and I'm convinced every organ in my body is put in a compromising position. As far as medicine has advanced, they just don't have all the answers.

The Dr.- did I mention her name? If I did I need to go back and take it out because this is what I have to say. The hag (I mean that as politely as possible) called me overweight. Yeah, overweight. At first I wanted to say "I'm not fat, you're fat." But my inner kindergartener composed herself. Here I was trying to focus on all these cancers I'm so susceptible to and all that keeps racing through my mind is "These pants are a size 12 witchy woman. That is an average size for an American woman. If we believe all that Oprah preaches to us, the average American woman is a size 14. I cannot help that you are a size 2 and flaunt it in your little white medical coat, but I am not. Are you afraid I'm not going to fit into the radiation machine? Is that what this is about? How big is Oprah? I bet you'd shove her into that machine! Should I be dieting WHILE enduring chemo, the side effects...and battling cancer?? Really woman. Eat a Big Mac once in a while."

I'm all for hearing the truth and yes, I have a gut and was even having a blast working out at my family's favorite gym regularly before all of this. But how this effected my Radiation 101 consult I still do not understand.

If by chance you've kept count, I've seen at least seven or eight doctors by now. Every one of them has weighed me and not one categorized me as overweight. I don't mind any information given to me if it is medically accurate- it was just a bit strange coming from the radiation lady! Primary doctor, oncologist even- fine. Ok, enough rambling on that. Summing this up she and I did not get off on the right foot but I'm a big girl (bad choice of words) and I'm past it now. Really.

Now, on to what's important- the fight!

Treatment- it was pretty uneventful. The room is filled with recliners and I picked one. I sat down and they hooked everything up through my port and off we went. Again, my mixture is ABVD (Adriamycin ,Bleomycin ,Viznblastine and Dacarbazine)

In the beginning we were told to be wary of people saying things like "Chemo sucks!" or "Oh, chemo? You're going to hate it! The side effects are horrible... it makes you a zombie and it's downright painful!" Etc, etc, etc. There are thousands of drugs used in chemotherapy and most everyone has their own combination, so it's not wise to rely on the testaments of others. ABVD is a fairly standard first step for Hodgkin's Lymphoma, but every type of cancer has their own concoction. It would be like comparing Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to Smarties because they are both candy. And we all know Reese's would kick butt every time. :) I've already bought a couple of the Reese's Easter Eggs- the thick ones...yummm. Ok maybe the radiation 'hag' as I (so rudely) called her has a point.

Anyway three of my four drugs are administered with a nurse sitting by me, so I really don't have as much down time as I was expecting. They 'push' (a very posh, cliquey term in the world of chemo) the drug through the tubes leading to my port. Some push slower, some push faster, but I don't feel much of it. One of the drugs makes me pee red. I'm very glad they warned me about that. The first three drugs take about 1.5 hours all together. My last drug is a drip that they hang on the IV stand and that takes up about the last 1.5 hours of treatment.

There are some crabby old people in there, I'll tell you. I can't blame them but goodness. I was the youngest by at least 30+ years and was told to expect that at most every visit. It was nice and quiet in the beginning but then they starting rolling... or walker-ing.... in. The hard candy provided wasn't good enough, the four nurses tending to us weren't fast enough, the weather was making their hip ailments worse- you name it. The nurses there are so sweet I can't imagine scolding them like that.

So all in all the session went fine. I sat there for 3 or so hours and got all my medicine. I pictured it creeping through my veins, sneaking up and ATTACKING that yucky cancer- Ka-BAM!!! I was tired when I got home so I rested. I was also pretty nauseous so I took 'on the spot' medicine Compazine (they pump anti-nausea meds through the IV, and I now take EMEND the three days around chemo at $75 for three pills- so that is three medicines for nausea) and it has worked well so far.

Chemotherapy is cumulative (no, I'm not talking about a GPA) meaning the effects add up in your system the further along you get. So, I'm happy I reacted fairly well to yesterday's session but I realize the side effects can get heftier as I get more sessions under my belt. We'll just have to wait and see!

Oh, lastly I was going to post a picture of the port area without all the weird tubes, but it's so bruised and gross looking I don't want to put you through that. The following is not for those with weak stomach's- - - - At one point the day after it was placed I felt liquid underneath all the taping and knew that couldn't be good. I called the surgeon and he said as long as it was clear, I was ok. When I went to chemo yesterday and all that bondage was removed the nurses were surprised I was handling the pain so well. The clear tape the surgeon had used to hold everything in had not let my skin breathe for 2.5 days- therefore I have a huge circle of blisters allll around the edges where the tape had been. It was pretty itchy and painful but I just thought it was supposed to feel like that. Apparently not. It looks pretty gnarly right now too, but as with everything else, it will heal. :)

A big thank you to the person that read my Target blog and sent me a Target gift certificate Ecard as a gift. Thank you, also, for the online gift cards to pizza delivery places for when I feel sick. Not at all necessary, but very nice of you. And then you got me thinking- maybe I should link this blog to a paypal account like on Julie & Julia when she had people giving her money for all the lobsters she was cooking and writing about. Hehe. That's outrageous. You all know I would never, ever do that- but thanks again for the cards and offers of help. If I have your phone number you may be hearing from me in the future!

Target Receipt

Thanks to so many of you that have contacted me via email/text/phone and certified letter regarding this blog. I really wasn't expecting such a reaction. This is just a way of sharing this experience with some of you without having to duplicate emails and phone calls daily. That was wearing me out. This does not, however, preclude many of you from actually getting on the phone once in a while to simply ask how I'm doing... maybe on a day I don't even have an appointment to report about... gasp! :)

In the last week I've realized cancer is more expensive than I thought. Sure, the copays I've already moaned about, the $3000 deductible we are getting hit with (by the way I'm fortunate I 'got' cancer in February instead of October. That way we don't have to pay a bunch then start all over when a near year hits) the cranial prosthetic I may be purchasing, the medications- the list goes on. It's not just all that, the purchases can add up on any given trip to Target.

Yes- I said cranial prosthetic. That's a fancy term for a wig. My oncologist can write me a prescription for a cranial prosthetic and we can try to recoup some of the price of the wig through insurance. Some insurance companies allocate for this, some don't but it's worth trying!

This weekend we went to Target to stock up on some things I'd need to alleviate some of the pressures of this cancer. I thought I'd make a list. Keep in mind some of these are highly recommended in my 'welcome to cancer' modules and paperwork. Some purchases were things I just threw in the cart:

Sleep cap- $10. This is self explanatory. You don't want to wake up with inches of hair on your pillow, and once it starts falling out your head just gets plain cold. I got a cute beret to catch those hairballs and eventually keep my head warm. Many people also buy satin pillowcases in the same shade as their hair color. The satin provides less friction, sometimes delaying the falling out process a bit.

Toothbrush and matching cap- $1.50- You're supposed to get a new toothbrush every other week while going through chemo. The purpose of this is to keep as much bacteria out of your mouth as possible. We all know toothbrushes are a haven for germs and bacteria so I got a fancy polka dot brush with a matching cap to keep the germs away.

As a side note, many of these purchases involve germs. The drugs used in chemotherapy attack all the fastest growing cells in one's body. CANCER. While that is a good thing, these drugs cannot discern good fast growing cells from bad fast growing cells so anything in my body that reproduces quickly gets attacked. This is why hair falls out and finger/toe nails often fall off (gross) or get extremely fragile. Think of every fast growing place on your body- and these areas will be essentially stopped in their tracks by chemotherapy. All my white blood cells (that are good and attack infections and disease) will unfortunately be a target as well. I have to do everything I can to stay healthy and away from even simple, every day illnesses.

GLAD Press and Seal wrap- $2.39- I have a cream to place on my port to numb the skin before each procedure and I've heard this is the Mercedes of saran wraps to use to cover the area. It will keep the cream from getting all over my clothes.

Salt and Baking Soda- $.98- Every day I need to swish with a homemade mouthwash to keep my mouth as bacteria free as possible. Mouth sores are very common and uncomfortable when going through chemotherapy. Grody. Again, the white blood cell count is lowered and my body may not be able to fight off those little nuisances it usually battles just fine. I swish and gargle with water, salt and baking soda four times a day- after meals and before bedtime in an attempt to keep the pesky sores at bay.

14 ounce bottle for said homemade mouthwash- $1.29- This was purchased and promptly labeled CATHYS CATHYS CATHYS so our girls do not accidentally take it with their school lunch. That would be pretty gross. I can't swig directly from the bottle- again- GERMS. I have to squirt the potion into a separate cup each time I swish and spit!

Thick hair bands: $4.19- in case my hair thins right on top and I need to hide it! The Chia Pet look? Yuck. Some people see only thinning in this area so I could get away with simply wearing headbands throughout most of treatment. Who knows- no way to tell.

Magazines, books and new songs for my mp3 player to pass the time. See previous post on my attempt to understand The Bachelor's final selections and thought process.

I've already filled six prescriptions for nausea and various side effects that I take with me to chemo each time in a little kit. I won't bore you with their names and purposes.

Now on to over the counter medications:

Chemotherapy can do so many things to an individual's body and there is such an array of side effects that I was advised to have many things on hand to combat a variety of 'inconveniences!'

Generic Imodium A-D (Up & Up Target brand)- $3.75- Yep, many patients get diarrhea.

Generic Senokot (Senna)- $2.50-Yep, many patients get constipated.

When going through the checkout lane I could not help but wonder about the cashier's thoughts as these two items rang up one right after the other. "Look lady, are you stopped up... or unable to stop?? WHICH IS IT???"

I don't know yet, mam. That's why I have to buy both.

On that note, I got liquid Magnesium Citrate- $1.29 each- A friend, that probably prefers to remain nameless, recommended this stuff to me right after I had my baby and it works....fast. It comes in cherry, grape, lemon or regular flavor at any Walgreens or local store. I'm not too proud to admit- It can be your best friend.

Generic Breathe Right strips- $6.50-My husband can snore. He does not mind me posting this. It will be important for me to sleep well during recovery so this was just a no brainer. They haven't worked worth a crap so maybe we'll just look into some type of surgery eventually. Heck, we might as well- we've already hit the yearly deductable!

Hard Candy- $1.99- This is needed to help with the nasty metal tastes in your mouth during treatment. I'm told it can also help prevent the mouth sores we discussed earlier.

This weekend I also purchased many favorite foods; Velveeta Shells and Cheese, Nestle Quik, steaks, crusty bread, Diet Coke and bananas. What an odd combination. Did you know that it is recommend to lay off your favorite foods for the duration of chemo? I thought it was just a tip I found online from some of my new friends with the disease, but my oncologist recommended it directly to me as well. If you've ever gotten sick just after eating something, you probably associate that food with the... well, puke. Then, it's likely hard for you to eat that food again.

Multiply that by at least four months of chemo and you've got the idea. If I get nauseated I don't want to leave this whole experience hating everything I once loved. So, it is recommended to only eat foods you are so-so about on the day of chemo and several days thereafter. Do you know how difficult it is to go shopping for foods that make you say... Ah, Comme ci, comme ca! (That's... I can take it or leave it... in French for those of you that decided to study Spanish instead.)

During my Target visit I bought all my faves and ate them last weekend through yesterday. That was fun. The same scenario applies to music and books. If you listen to the same few composers or artists (and don't forget that hard candy you'll end up hating) during or around chemo eventually you'd likely associate them with this not so fun time- and end up not listening anymore in the future.

Headed to today's treatment soon. I get to give my new port a workout and will be happy to get rid of these alienisque pins and tubes hanging out of me. ET phone home, please!

Dexter has the Hodge

Last month Michael C. Hall announced he is being treated for Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I don't watch Dexter because the thought of a psychopath husband and father chopping people up into tiny bits just doesn't interest me that much. Well, that's a half truth. I don't watch it because we don't subscribe to Showtime.

This is interesting to me because I remember recently watching the Golden Globes. I saw "Dexter" in his black sock cap and said to my husband, "Ohhhhh no! He must be sick!" He is currently in remission.

I had no idea within a couple of weeks I'd be given the same diagnosis. Stay away from my hair collection, Dex. The blond one is MINE!

Edward Cullen has nothing on me! The port-a-cath surgery.

Today's port placement went just fine. My friend Colleen drove me to the hospital by 7am and my surgery was scheduled for 9:15am. I filled out the usual paperwork and showed my insurance card for the 517th time this month (as much as I complain about the hefty copays I am very thankful for insurance.) They gave me yet another stylish wristband and told me to wait.

When the nurse called my name we entered the surgical bays. It was one big room with a bunch of little bays, one for each gurney. I thought I might have a lot of "hurry up and wait" time so I brought a bunch of magazines. I've been trying to get to the bottom of Jake's selection of Vienna in the final two but I knew even with a load of down time I would not figure that one out. I was surprised to find out I had my own personal TV. Things sure have changed since my tonsillectomy in the 80s!

I do have a picture of my neck/chest after surgery. It's not graphic, but I am warning you now so you can stop paging down in case you don't want to see it. The surgeon also provided access to the port (meaning a needle and tubes) since chemotherapy starts this week. This is all to say that it looks alien-isque right now. Glam-o- alien. ET chic- I'll call it. Very stylish.

Moving on. I got all prepped and was taken down two floors to the surgical unit. The anesthesiologist spoke with me about the anesthesia and come to find out I had conflicting orders. He stated this procedure could be done under Twilight, but my surgeon had ordered a general anesthetic. The general would require more recovery time and a breathing tube. While I'd be loopy and unable to drive with either, I was all for the Twilight.

My consultation with the surgeon before the procedure consisted of a "Let's do this!" and one of those double pointer-ed pistol type 'bang bang' hand motions with accompanying sound effects. Off I went to the operating table.

The doctors decided Twilight would be fine and I was happy to hear I wouldn't have a tube shoved down my throat. There were six people in the room for my procedure and it made me feel pretty important! I asked what everyone's duties were and they introduced themselves and let me know they'd be monitoring my vitals and my response to the anesthesia as I went semi-unconscious. An inappropriate "Michael Jackson could have used someone like you, huh?" came out of my mouth and I don't even think the drugs had been administered. Shortly thereafter I'm told I advised three of the doctors/anesthesiologists that I'd be making them my facebook friends when I got home.

I was still on the operating table in the operating room when I awoke. They asked how I felt, my name and my birth date and rolled me to a bay in the surgical unit. I'm told many people are somewhat coherent with Twilight but I went completely out until they ceased the drip in the IV (which was in my hand for once, thank goodness. My arm veins are about to strike.) They kept me in the surgical area for chest x-rays to be sure it was placed properly and no important veins/nodes were nicced in the process. The port is about the size of a nickel, but thicker. It's purple! Oh, and it's one of the new POWER ports, whatever that means. I think it works faster and more efficiently.



The links I've provided will help you understand the uses of the port if you don't already. Essentially it makes getting chemotherapy much easier and I won't have to be poked as often with needles. Yay!

The x-rays looked fine and I was sent back upstairs to the ambulatory unit where I originally began the process. I stayed there and ate Cheez-its and orange juice to prove I could swallow. I had to answer basic questions about myself and essentially sober up for about an hour before they would let me leave. Colleen came to get me and off we went!

I've been sleeping most of the day. The area is very sore and tender but that will pass with time. I've got a prescription for it if needed. I cannot shower or bathe until after chemo on Thursday. This is my fourth week of testing and procedures and I learned weeks ago to ALWAYS SHOWER BEFORE A DOCTORS APPOINTMENT because I never know what they're going to do to me or when I'll be able to shower again. So, I've got plenty of wet wipes, sponges, deodorant and just plain Lysol for the next two days.

Since the surgeon accessed the port already any liquid that gets in it will go directly into my veins. I'm keeping the area covered with a tank top and heavy shirt. After chemo the port is the only part that remains under my skin so it will not effect me holding my son or doing normal activities. That's about it!

It will leave a (roughly) two inch scar- on my left side just around/below the clavicle. When this is all said and done I plan on telling everyone I was stabbed in a gang fight. Do I seem more like a Crypt or a Blood? Hmmm....

Free stuff rocks

Today was a so so day. I had an appointment for the MUGA testing and thought I was getting my port placed in my chest. Come to find out the port appointment was a $50 three minute 'consultation' about the procedure. I had to make another appointment for the surgery tomorrow from 6am to roughly noon.

The fun part was going to the Cancer Information Center inside the hospital. I was told they give cancer patients a free wig, and that they did. It's a very small little closet of a space, but the lady walked me around and showed me what they had. I was trying to be polite, but every wig was exactly the same old lady (no offense) short curly style just in different colors. It was horrible. Then I took a look at the window displays and saw a blondish wig with a built in headband. I tried it on and it fits perfectly!

Remember the Carol Channing wig Julia Roberts donned in the beginning of Pretty Woman? It's sort of like that, but shoulder length and not as platinum blond. I love it!

It will only be my back up wig, but it will be a nice change. I get to do blond after all!

Ellen at the shop was so stinking nice. I just waltzed in there and got a wig and two hats for free. I said "how do you know I'm not off the street, just scooping up your merchandise?" She replied "cancer is hard enough without worrying about how you look. We provide this service to help people like you!" I wrote a check for a sizable donation (according to me) before I left.

Here are pics of the new blond me. I know the blond is silly but I WILL wear it at least occasionally. What fun is it to lose the hairs on your head and go buy the exact same color and style?

If you have thoughts on the pics, post a reply so I don't think you're reading this blog just to stalk me. Thanks-



Several different shades of blond with some dark streaks thrown in that you really can't see. I would not hold my son looking like a hooker:

I should ask Cher where she gets her hair

This weekend my good friends Lee and Diane took me for a haircut and wig shopping. Who wants to wake up each morning to 8+ inches of hair on your pillow? Not me! So, I got about 5 inches off and it now lands just below my ear. It's a pretty short do but is still 'tuckable' which is important to me!

I'll post a few pics and if you run across this blog you can vote for your favorite. Your opinions are welcome, but we're pretty determined the following looks best:

#1


No, I'm not on crack. We hate this one. The following are viable options, however:

#2


and this one:

#3


this is one of our faves:

#4


and this is probably the one I'll get- for a mere $350...ughh

#5




Highlights that don't need touched up every 6 weeks? No roots? Sign me up!

I tried my hand as a blonde. It didn't work. I have many, many more pics of styles that I will not subject you to. Redhead? Maybe. At the end of the day I think I'm a brunette for a reason. But, I do not want to drop several hundred dollars for a hairstyle I currently have, and can grow back in the next couple of years. Stubborn? Very likely.

We had a ton of fun. Every lady in the store sports a wig for various reasons. We about laughed our butts off when my assistant said "Cathy honey, whatever you do- don't stick your head in the oven." Ummm, what? I mean I know it's cancer but it should be treatable and I'm not taking any drastic action lady.

She was referring to exposing the wig to heat. Even the steam from freshly cooked spaghetti can ruin a wig. Once they frizz, I'm told there is no going back. So either I cook much less than I do now, or I sport a doo-rag in the kitchen.

I have so much hair I may not even lose it all, which I was told is a problem with most wigs. They need a buzz cut or bald head to cling to and not get the 'puffy scalp' look like we did while trying them on. Who knows- but it's nice to know I have options!! Blond might have been fun, but I guess I should stick to what I know.

First I was afraid, I was petrified

I'd been having trouble with my insurance all week (GHP which I may have already mentioned my doctors have labeled as God Help those People because they're so difficult about many things) for having claims rejected simply because they had a wrong birth date on file for me. I've been on the phone with them, and the fertility office several times and thought it was all straightened out- but come to find out they do not cover fertility treatment at all. I know that is not rare- but (my own fault) I didnt realize that until I got to the appointment.

Enough with the boring insurance stuff. This is just kind of a side story because I think it was sweet. So, the nice receptionists were calling/leaving messages- waiting for return calls from my insurance before beginning my appointment so I would have an answer. My sister and I went to the Reproductive Endocrinologist office for consultation when the receptionist came in and and told me solemnly that no, insurance would not even cover this office visit- the consultation. So I had to decide if I wanted to stay and pay around $350... yes $350...just to get information and I was almost in tears- just from everything, the last 3 weeks, information overload from five appointments in two days and was about to just get my purse and leave when the actual doctor (I'll call her Emily, first name) walked in and saw what was going on.

She quizzed the admin quite a bit about 'coding' and how it had been entered. I could tell she was really trying to get this covered for me. The receptionist said "I did that" to everything she asked. So doctor Emily (shorter than her long last name) looked at me and said "You know what? This is just a little chat. It's just a conversation between you and I and it's no big deal." She asked the receptionist to leave the room, looked at me and asked if I was ready to get started.

How awesome was that? I knew she meant she probably just wasn't charging me for this at all. She had really done her homework on my situation- had all kinds of info on me, on my treatment ABVD, stats etc.

So, to shorten this up...lol... I've decided against it. Unfortunately they don't have specific data on cancer patients. I realize the numbers I was viewing were for those that were 'infertile' for whatever reason and the numbers don't fully apply to me. Basically what she showed me was that 38% of FROZEN embryos (as opposed to what she called fresh- ummmm, yick) result in pregnancy and only 28% of them are actual births, meaning 10% of the 38% are lost due to miscarriage. We went over the financial aspect and paying $15,000 for a 28% chance is just not something we're going to do. I will take my chances with conceiving alone after a reasonable amount of time following treatment (they recommend 2 years.) I am so glad that I looked into it. I feel informed, and couldn't sleep if I didn't at least look at that option.

My treatment will lower the likelihood of my conceiving but if God means for me to have another child, I'm sure it will happen. If not, Gloria Gaynor tells me that I will survive!

Comments

Hello,

My settings were a little messed up and some of you have asked how to leave comments. You should be able to do so now! Sorry. :)

The staging appointment

On Thursday, February 17th the doctor showed me a bunch of cool looking scans of my body. The body looks dark black and my organs show up in shades of gray and red I believe. Any areas with cancer showed up in bright, bright yellow. The left side of my neck radiated yellow and the right side was smaller, but was yellow as well. The cancer has spread to my chest area and there were three bright dots in the upper cavity. This puts me a Stage IIA- Stage 2, A for asymptomatic meaning I have no symptoms.

Treatment will require chemotherapy and radiation. I will need at least four cycles (a cycle is two appointments...every other week so each cycle is a month.) Daniel's off days are always Thursday and Sunday, so we scheduled chemo for Thursday morning. I've been told for some people the hardest day is the 3rd or 4th day after chemo, so I'm not thrilled about possibly feeling crappy all weekend but hopefully that will keep our week running fairly smoothly.

Chemo will come first and then of course I'll be scanned, poked and prodded again to see if it's done it's job. Radiation will start after that so at least I'm not doing both at the same time. I'm not sure that's legal.

The good news is that horrendous bone marrow extraction paid off. There is no cancer in my bones. For some reason I am producing red blood cells at triple the normal rate and this has my doctor very concerned. He told me I may have a separate BLOOD DISEASE. I thought- What the H????? It's something he will keep a close eye on but it shouldn't effect my treatment.

Before I left the office today four more appointments had to be scheduled. Yep, that's right- four more. I need to meet with a nurse to discuss what I'll call Chemo 101. Then I meet with someone else on a different day to discuss Radiation 101. I need a MUGA scan to test the strength of my heart before starting chemo, and I have surgery next week to place the port under my skin. Every one of these appointments (and aaaallll the appointments from the last three weeks) incur the 'specialist' copay of $50 each so we dropped $200 just this week in visits. This is getting old.

I'm told by some of my new "Hodge" friends that the first few weeks of this diagnosis are the hardest. I thought they were just trying to console me and help me keep a positive outlook. Now I actually believe them. I'm not thrilled about starting chemotherapy but at least I'll be on a regular schedule and know what's coming next and when it's coming. This 'one appointment turns into four more appointments...oh and by the way you need to schedule those four appointments within the next two days' is a load of crap.

Q and A

What kind of lymphoma do you have?
I have Hodgkin's Lymphoma, Nodular Sclerosing.

What's Hodgkin's lymphoma?
Hodgkin's is a type of lymphoma that is characterized by the presence of a type of cell called Reed-Sternberg cells. Hodgkin's lymphoma originates from abnormal lymphocytes whereas Non-Hodgkin's lymphomas come from abnormal B or T cells. Read more here: Understanding Hodgkin's. In fact, that site is awesome and the Understanding Hodgkin's Guide will answer a lot of these questions.

What does "nodular sclerosing" mean?
Nodular sclerosing (or sclerosis) refers to the subtype of Hodgkin's. Nodular refers to the lymph nodes and sclerosis means scarring. So, basically this means that my lymph nodes have scarring in them. This is the most common type of Hodgkin's. From the www.lymphoma.org site:

"Nodular sclerosis: In this type of Hodgkin’s lymphoma, the involved lymph nodes contain areas composed of Reed-Sternberg cells mixed with normal white blood cells. The lymph nodes often contain prominent scar tissue, hence the name nodular sclerosis (scarring). This subtype is the most common, making up 60% to 75% of all cases of Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It is more common in women than men, and it usually affects adolescents and young adults. The majority of patients are cured with current treatments."


What stage is your cancer?
I am Stage IIA (Stage 2.) This means the cancer has spread from the original site. It is on both sides of my neck and in my chest. A stands for asymptomatic meaning I have no symptoms.

What is the prognosis?
Right now, we don't really know. Hodgkins can be cured in 75-95% of cases, according to what I've read. It really depends on how well my disease responds to the chemo.

What kind of treatment do you have to have and when do you start?
My treatment begins with chemotherapy. I begin on February 25, 2010. The sessions are approximately three hours long every other Thursday. My course of treatment is ABVD and that is pretty standard for Hodgkin's Lymphoma at my stage. For now I will have four cycles; each cycle is two treatments which means each cycle is a month.

I will also need radiation and I don't have much information on that yet. I had an appointment to discuss Radiation 101 but I canceled it due to information overload. I will reschedule soon.

More to come as I get more information...

You've been pruned John 15

In church last month we were learning about pruning, and how God can snatch off branches from your life that aren't fruitful, to have you bear more fruit. A friend, a job, a husband...anything. I've reflected on these scriptures many times since the diagnosis and hope someone may find them useful. Do they pertain to my current diagnosis? Maybe, maybe not. I do know as always, that I've got some praying to do. :)

“I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. ² He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more. ³ You have already been pruned and purified by the message I have given you. ⁴ Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me.

⁵ “Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing. ⁶ Anyone who does not remain in me is thrown away like a useless branch and withers. Such branches are gathered into a pile to be burned. ⁷ But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted! ⁸ When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples. This brings great glory to my Father.

Those poor, poor girls

My stepdaughters are wonderful (I hate the word step.) Anyway, they're wonderful, polite, conscientious young ladies that would do just about anything for anybody. They have big hearts and big smiles. Kayla loves to write poems, notes and songs. She plays beauty shop with me and fixes my hair in different styles almost every night they're here (ok, maybe that one gets put on hold for a while.) Kenzie loves science and reading. She's not as outgoing and you have to sit and really listen sometimes to really understand her because she can be such a wonderful, deep thinker.

They're the best daughters I could have asked for- and then I go and do this to them.

Have you ever seen that pair of shoes? You know, that pair of kids shoes that sits smack in the middle of the (insert any room of the house here) floor. The shoes sit, hour after hour. People walk around them. They trip over them. It drives the parent nuts but the kids never seem to notice them.

I guess I was in a 'mood' a few days after the diagnosis and instead of picking them up I wanted to see how long it would take one of the girls to pick up their own shoes. Bad idea. The shoes sat there......and sat there....and sat there. The dog sniffed them. Noah picked them up and threw them. But the girls never touched them.

By about 3pm that afternoon I had enough. I sat the girls down and at that moment some infantile, witchy little monster took over my vocal chords and went down this road:

"Do either of you see the shoes in the middle of the floor? Do you know how long they've been there? How many times do you think you've stepped over them today? Are you waiting for the dog to chew them up? Would you like Noah to put them on and head out the door? Are they there because you think you just might need them in a mad dash out the door to Target, so it's more convenient to keep them centralized?"

The girls eyes were saucers when I then dove into this little diddy:

"Girls, do you know years ago that girls/children your age were responsible for raising entire families?? Kenzie- at 12 years old do you know many, many girls your age used to have to drop out of school to care for 9 younger siblings because for one reason or another they had no mother? Did you know that?? Do you know that girls your age used to have to make entire meals and cook and clean every day and night to keep things running? I'm not talking P B and J here people- I'm talking cooking! I think my own grandmother had a life much like that! I think she raised alllll her other siblings by the time she was YOUR age. (I'm not sure on that at all, it just came out.) What do you think of that????"

Out of nowhere I launched into this number:

"Has either of you read the Little House on the Prairie book series?? Either of you?? No!! Really? Well this weekend we are heading right up to the library and getting those books so you can learn a thing or two. Laura Ingalls Wilder didn't leave shoes in the middle of the floor. Mary went blind and still helped her mom clean house!!"

I'm not exaggerating, I really said all that. I have no idea where Little House comes to play in this situation. The girls were looking at each other like "Ms. Cathy has lost it." But hey, they picked up the shoes.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm sure I was thinking what might happen if I don't feel good from treatment and can't clean/cook as much as usual. Of course I didn't say much about that to the kids and scare them. A dose of Little House won't hurt anyone. Just pick up the stinking shoes.

The fertility issue

I won't go into a ton of detail on this, but I will say that Daniel and I were planning on having one more child, and having that child soon. Chemotherapy can severely jack with a woman's reproductive organs and in previous days I've been more upset about this than I am the cancer. I didn't expect to be possibly thrown into an early menopause at barely 36 when we were still building our family. If we had a crystal ball we would have simply began trying last year.

There are steps one can take before treatment begins and we're looking into them. They can be costly and time consuming and time is not something we have a lot of right now. If we are blessed with just the girls and Noah we will certainly be just fine. It's right where it needs to be, in God's hands.

The bone marrow extraction

I'm not usually one to shout my personal business from the rooftops. But considering I'll probably only have good friends and family viewing this blog, I will be completely honest with you about the bone marrow extraction. This is much easier than emailing each of you individually, and many of you are already aware of this.

The bone marrow extraction was pretty much a nightmare. He had prepared me that it would be uncomfortable and downright painful(they drill 3 separate holes into your bone) but the procedure was supposed to last about 20 minutes from beginning to end. I was on the table, on my stomach over an hour. When you look at your oncologist and he's perspiring from applying that much pressure with a drill- inside your hip- to your bone, it's not a good feeling.

Apparently I have the strongest bones known to man. Normally that would be a good thing. The marrow would not 'suction' out so it was borderline excruciating. They go deep, deep down in the bone to get different samples and bone cannot be numbed. Who knew bone even had that much feeling?

They can numb the nerves on the outside of the bone, but not down in it. It was pretty bad. They kept telling me how great I was doing lying still through all that. My doctor had never seen anything like my stubborn bone marrow. He said a lot of people actually have to be strapped down to take the normal 15 minute procedure- so I was proud I handled it so well at least. :)

Next time (let's hope there isn't one) I'm demanding a sedative.

The scary cancer doctor

Turns out, the doctor I was afraid to meet with ended up being a 5' 6" soft spoken man in his eighties. He took a thorough background history starting with my childhood. I found myself saying "you'd have to ask my mother that" over and over.

He did a fairly comfortable exam and found no protruding lymph nodes, aside from the one in my neck that got me into this mess. His lovely nurse Anita told me cancer did not have to be all gloom and doom. I knew that, but thanks for the encouraging words.

He said now that I had the diagnosis, we needed further testing to determine the scope of the cancer. Are you kidding me? More tests? Fine- get out the needles or send me over to radiology again. I know those people by name at this point and would like to know how Marge's son did on his ACT last week anyway.

So, off I went for two more days of testing.

Cancer must be popular

That weekend was interesting. I had a name for my cancer but no other information. How bad is it? Is it in my bones? Am I going to lose my hair? What is this thing called chemo? What about radiation? Were the lymph nodes on my body going to start randomly enlarging everywhere? Were they going to continue pumping me full of radioactive dyes and if so, would my veins eventually glow in the dark? I still don't feel like I have anything, I have no symptoms!!! Maybe they're just wrong and should test me again. Nah, going through that once was enough. I'll take the diagnosis.

The weekend was a piece of cake compared to the two excruating days waiting to hear what form of cancer I had. It got downright comical. I did two loads of laundry on Friday, before the call, and wondered to myself how they got done so quickly. Then I realized I was taking them STRAIGHT OUT OF THE HAMPER and putting them into the DRYER and turning them on. I had them half folded when I realized they hadn't even been washed, just dried! Noah now has encrusted banana permanently embedded in his nice Adidas track suit that was a gift. Sorry Aunt Sara- he's about to grow out of it anyway if that makes it any better.

At one point I opened the refrigerator to find a big white bottle of bleach (the full bottle like you buy at the store) on the top shelf of our fridge. The milk was sitting on the counter. I said "Daniel? Did you somehow put bleach in the fridge... in the drink section?" They both are white bottles with blue caps! The milk was warm and had to be thrown out so we have no idea when he did it. Good thing nobody drank that bleach!

That's when we started being extra careful to be sure one of us didn't burn the house down. We have three lovely children and would like to keep social services away, thank you.

We were told to wait by the phone the following Monday to speak to my new oncologist and schedule my first appointment with him for the same day. I was very sad to be handed off so to speak, but knew my primary could do no more and it was time to get with the big, scary cancer doctor. When the call finally came I was told (by a nurse at my primary) that NO cancer center in the area had any openings until mid next week. So, I said "Is this normal? To get a cancer diagnosis but not know the stage or start treatment for weeks? Really???"

Oh, by the way the appointment mid next week was for Lake St. Louis when there are about 3 centers closer to me. Not that I mind that of course- just saying they booked me out quite a ways just to get me an appointment- that's how backed up these cancer centers are.

Luckily when (primary) Dr. Ganninger (have I mentioned how wonderful he is?) got wind of this he would have none of it. He physically walked down to the cancer center attached to his offices and had them rearrange some patients to get me in the same week. I hope I didn't knock anybody out of something important. You know, because there is so much 'un' important stuff going on at a cancer center. I was scheduled with the scary cancer doctor that Wednesday.

The call

When all the testing was complete, my doctor called me on February 5th, 2010 in the evening. I cannot say enough great things about my primary doctor (Paul Ganninger if you need one.) He's been so compassionate, responsive and just downright speedy. I was home alone and at this point had the hospital's number memorized. I knew that call was the news we'd been waiting for but I had to let it ring four times before answering.

Dr. Ganninger told me what Dr. Blurt it Out already had, but he now had the testing to back it up. I tested positive for Nodular Sclerosing Hodgkin's Lymphoma. He told me if you're going to have cancer, it's not a bad one to get. (Don't ever, ever say that to anyone you know with cancer, however. Not unless you're a doctor. You will likely get smacked.) He said it can be treatable and even curable! These words were heaven to my ears.

By the way, I haven't let myself google much during this time. All that information and inaccurate data will drive you nuts. I trust the words of my doctors and will rely on that for the most part. But, when I heard the name "Hodgkin's" I immediately thought- PEOPLE DIE OF THIS!! PEOPLE DIE OF THIS!! MR. OR MRS. HODGKIN MUST HAVE BEEN THE FIRST TO DIE OF THIS!!"

Well, yes- they do. But people can also supposedly die from drowning with only a spoonful of water in their lungs (so our 6th grader tells us) but I don't see that happening to me today. On this one I allowed myself to google and I learned that Hodgkin's Lymphoma is named after Dr. Thomas Hodgkin, who first described it. That was strangely reassuring.

Daniel and I practically celebrated that evening. I was thrilled that (hopefully) my toddler would not be raised without me. I was elated that I'd been told that it wouldn't be easy, but I could get to the other side of this- I could return to a semi-normal life when all of the treatment was completed.

That elation lasted about 24 hours before the day to day reality of cancer set in. By all means, I still carry with me extreme thankfulness that I should have a treatable form of this disease. I've known many people less fortunate than myself, including my own father and brother. What people say is true, finding NEW things to be thankful for will lift your spirits and put your life in perspective.

The inappropriate doctor- Dr. Blurt it Out

After seeing my primary doctor the very first time, he scheduled some tests and scans to help him identify the lump in my neck. Lumps can be very common in this area (just above the clavicle where the neck starts) and often end up being just plain masses of fatty tissue or cysts. One test led to another...and another... and another.

I did all of the extensive testing by myself so that Daniel could stay home with the kids. A couple times I wouldnt have had a choice anyway. The doctor demanded my CT scans back so fast that when radiologists told me 2 to 3 days, my doctor was calling the NEXT MORNING at 8am with results and shoving me into other tests already. Good for him- but it was a crazy two weeks starting with the CT scans leading up to the biopsy, leading to more CT scans, the PET scan to determine staging and the nightmarish bone marrow extraction.

So, knowing the biopsy was the last one to really determine if it was cancer- I just took off and got it done right after my doctor called. My primary doctor ordered a needle biopsy and the (very nice) radiologist said no way. He said "I've got your scan, of course, and the needle isnt' going to touch it. We need way more tissue than that" So I knew that wasnt a good sign. Should one start to worry when all the technicians in the room are exchanging glances?

Apparently I was bleeding heavily afterward so they kept me for observation. I sat in this room and a nurse came in every 10 minutes to apply (very hard) pressure over and over on the area of my neck they had just cut into...and the anesthesia was wearing off. No fun. But whatever- She was concerned about the excessive swelling (she thought it was blood under the skin and was trying to redistribute it...even showed me how to do it at home!) so she paged a doctor to come take a look. I'd been there an extra hour for observation and she told me since the bleeding stopped I could go but the doctor would take a look to be sure the swelling was ok, because she didn't think it was.

By then I'm sure the radiologist that had worked with me had moved onto other things. When she paged someone- a doctor I hadnt seen before came up as I was standing in this hospital hallway getting ready to get on the elevator to go to my car and go home. He felt around my neck and excused himself to check my scan and be sure there was no internal bleeding because of all the puffiness.

He comes back and says...loosely but I'm very close here- "Your report shows you did bleed excessively after the procedure and I'm glad they kept you- but that nurse just doesnt know that when you have lymphoma your nodes swell this much. When the cancer hits your lymph nodes they just spaz out. This isn't more bleeding- it's your cancer."

So I'm there alone on a Thursday for the biopsy, been given no diagnosis yet- that's what the biopsy is for- and this guy I've never seen before tells me I have cancer in the hallway as I'm getting on the elevator. He wasn't a jerk or anything- but he really shouldnt have done that. He just knew from my scan what it was but Daniel and I should have been told together from my primary doctor- after the stinking biopsy to confirm it.

Nice bedside manner buddy. Tell a young mother in the hallway of a hospital as she's going to her car that she has cancer and the lymphoma is making her body go crazy. "Spazzed out" were his words.

I told him I had no diagnosis yet and was simply there for a biopsy! He just shook his head and told me again... "Ok, but it's cancer Ms. Kendrick."

I drove home with my head whirling in shock from what I'd just heard. I would NOT have gone there alone if I had known that would happen. Daniel was pretty ticced- I dont know what kind of doctor he was, had never seen him before, don't know his name. He was just called over to check my supposed bleeding! lol. Well, that pretty well gave me the answer I needed but we held out hope he was wrong and waited to hear from my actual doctor.

Lesson from this? If you can help it, never go to a biopsy alone!

From my friend Kathryn

When I told my friend Kathryn about the diagnosis, I was amused by her response. She sent me the following:

Cathy,

Right after I got your initial message about all this, as I was processing and everything, I found myself wanting to argue with your cancer and say, um, excuse me, but my friend here is young, doesn't smoke, and otherwise takes pretty damn good care of herself, so clearly you have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I'm sure you didn't mean to, and if you'll just kindly turn around and go back to wherever the hell you came from, then no hard feelings, and we'll all just forget this ever happened.

I agree Kathryn! I promise I'll do my best to get this stupid cancer to not only go back from where it came, but run there screaming in terror. :)

In the beginning

My sweet husband Daniel got me a massage for my 36th birthday. I scheduled it for Saturday, January 30th, 2010 and at the end the masseuse brought a lump in my neck to my attention. I had never noticed it and it doesn't hurt.

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of doctors appointments, blood work, multiple CAT Scans, PET scans, biopsies and a bone marrow extraction. I was diagnosed with Nodular Sclerosing Hodgkin's Lymphoma on Friday, February 5th, 2010. Not quite the birthday gift I was expecting.

I have no real symptoms thus far so my primary doctor and oncologist are hopeful that I'm in an early, treatable stage. The night I was given the diagnosis my husband and I hugged and cheered! Treatable and possibly curable??? Thank you Lord.

That adrenaline has worn off and we're now faced with the reality of cancer. We're still thankful, of course. We're gearing up for the days of chemotherapy and possible radiation to come.