https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjE9CoH9avs
If you were at my fabulous shin dig on Saturday you would know the meaning of this blog title. My wonderful 6 year old got the liberty of announcing the basket raffle tickets, into the microphone, co-hosting with my Uncle Pat. (Who by the way was just the greatest MC to ever walk the face of the earth). Let me just say that there aren't enough words to express my gratitude of the magnitude of support, from all walks of my life, that came out for a great get together! Thank You. So as my son reads the ticket numbers with his sweet speech impediment (which is hard to say if you have one - Zach Galifianakis) I look at him and can not help but be overwhelmed with my love for this boy, my son.In the usual line up of questions about my Cancer, one of the first is always "How is your son handling this?" Which I might add was one of the most heart wrenching moments of finding out I have Cancer," What will I tell my son?" How do you explain something so big to someone so little? Of course opinions were given, whether I wanted them or not. I even heard there was a children's book on how to tell your child, but I knew my own stubborn self and I was going to do it my way. After much thought, once I got home from the hospital, I sat him down on the couch next to me. I told him that Mommy was sick, with a bug. That bug is called Cancer. I wanted to throw the word "Cancer" out there in case he heard a classmate say, "Oh my Aunt died of Cancer." I informed him that there are lots of different kinds of Cancer, and Mommy has a good one. I told him how strong I was and that,"Mommy is gonna kick this bugs butt!" I have to thank God that he is only 6, just the perfect age to ask basic questions without needing complex answers. He asked,"Can I get it, the bug?" I said no... the bug only likes me. As most 6 year old would he said,"Why?" Because Mommy is just so sweet. The bug can not jump from me to you. There is nothing more priceless then watching the wheels in a child's brain turn. Who wouldn't pay to be able to hear those thoughts? Throughout the process I have tried to keep the line of communication open. He is definitely a hairstylist son because I swear he got more upset about me losing my hair than I did! There is nothing better then a child's honesty. If it were anyone else who said half the stuff he did I would cry, but for his dead truth questions....laugh was all I could do. The steroids give me acne, he says things like," Mom why do you have those little rocks on your face, or What are those red marks?" After I tell him its from my medicine he says, as he cups my face with his little hands,"Aww Mommy it will probably go away." Thanks Dude. My hair now looks like an old mans comb over, its sparse on top yet full around the sides and back. Just the sweetest look I've ever rocked. He still looks me in the eyes when he talks to me, like he genuinely doesn't care about what I look like. I'm his Mom, and he will always be my Blue Power Ranger.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Get in Line, Settle Down
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wit703Ya_Vo
This song is a full representation of that day in the hospital!....PART 3:After my Mom picked up my sister, she came back in about an hour, I sat there in a weird limbo. Little did I know this would be the ultimate limbo of the ultimate game changer. My nurse came in a couple times just to check on me, and inform me I would soon be on my way to the MRI. During that hour I sat there in a daze, and just know that daze stayed with me for the next 72 hours, truthfully probably the next month. Next stop MRI town, which I had never experienced before. I get up and they tell me to sit down in the wheel chair, being my Granny's granddaughter I scoffed saying I don't need that wheelchair, it's my arms I can't feel my legs work perfectly fine! Ma'am you must sit in the wheel chair to be transported anywhere in the hospital. Whatever! I found myself relating in a new way to any miserable old lady bossing people around, and I quickly let go of my stubbornness. I get wheeled in and they inform me it will be a little bit of a wait, but Wendy Williams Show was on and I revert to some sort of familiarity, "How you Doin?" Once it was my turn they give me directions and tell me to not move. It took about 25 minutes and then i was brought back out to the dreaded wheelchair. The nurses come out to tell me my transporter will be here shortly. It's funny how you run into people from your past, in times when you least expect it. Out comes Kat, who I had known from days long ago, my wild days. It was comforting, which was especially nice in in this extravaganza of unknown. By the time I returned to the E.R. room I was explaining for the billionth time to the billionth Dr. why I was there, what hurt, etc. Which can become extremely annoying when you have to repeat yourself so much! It was all different kinds of Dr.s too, not like I know all the medical fields to explain further, but I mean a lot. Each one's asking me to perform different actions with my "dead arms" and other such limbs. My Mother and I just sit there, awaiting some sort of answer and the next Dr to come in is the one who will be giving us those answers. My nurse says that this Dr. Arrigo is known among other things is known for his bedside manner and he will be more than happy to answer any and every question we have. I'm thinking, " I didn't know a pinched nerve was so complex." I can here a scuffle down the hall and in comes my two Aunts, Chrissy and Cindy. Who are quickly followed by my crazy Uncle Pat, and my even crazier cousin Timmy. (P.S. you are only allowed 2 visitors at a time) My uncle Pat starts telling dirty jokes, that's how we handle things on my Dad's side, with inappropriate laughter. He is interrupted by the first Dr. to give us some answers, Dr. Arrigo. He sits down and starts calmly talking about things like radiation, lymph nodes, and immediate surgery to remove a node. My Mom interrupts him like what are you trying to say, what does all this mean? For the first time since 10:30 AM we got an answer, one we weren't expecting. Dr. Arrigo says," Lymphoma, (we all sit there with mouths open waiting for a more detailed explanation)... as in Cancer." As I sit there in a blur he goes on about how they can't be sure until after surgery, which will take place in an hour. All this life changing news is interrupted by my Aunt Cindy screeching," It's not a pinched nerve?" Followed by my Aunt Chrissy yelling through gritting teeth," No Cindy! Sit down and shut up!" Aaaaaa my family is classic. Before I can blink my eyes in walks the surgeon, Dr. Moore, who looked like Bradley Cooper. Hey Bradley! Giving us the run down for the surgery, I don't think any of us heard it, the word Cancer was still lingering in every one's brain. before I knew it I was being shuffled to the O.R., and giving instructions about anesthetics, and how they were gonna slice and dice my neck to pull out one of the lumps that most likely is Cancerous. I mean before I had my son I had never broken sprained or had a stitch my whole life, and now I'm being wheeled into surgery!When I wake up, I remember crying, just crying and crying, I couldn't feel my arms at all. I remember the nurse telling me there was a zillion people in the waiting room, and she said they could come in 2 at a time, who did I want to see? Apparently my Mom and Aunt Chrissy came first, I have no recollection of this. Next was Hannah ( my friend since I was 5) and my little brother Michael. Now since I have been friends with Hannah I have seen her cry maybe 3 times my whole life, and Mike is a guy's guy who isn't a crier either. So in they come and as I am crying from the anesthetic, I realize so are both of them. Which made me cry harder because that is why i brought them in to keep me from losing it harder. (Mike will kill me for broadcasting his crying...Sorry lil bro) The feeling slowly comes back to my hands as they wheel me up to the Cancer wing. When I get there, overwhelmed that I was in the "Cancer Wing", I am again greeted from an unlikely member of my past.... Kristen! Now Kristen and I went to summer camp for years together as young girls, seeing her made me feel oddly comfortable in this crazy situation. I thank God everyday that she was there, we laughed about the summers of camp, and the shaving cream fights. (I'll explain that in another blog) Leave it to me and my luck to be in the only wing that had a broken air conditioner during the heat, like my plate wasn't full enough! After everything simmered down and I was told to get some rest, I found out about some late night visitors! My four besties from the city, now these girls are tough so I expected no crying. In walks Stephanie, Nicole, Charisse, and Suzie, all with blood shot eyes and blotchy faces. I could tell they were crying all night and I knew if I lost it, then so would they. Their visit was so nice, yet cut short because I guess from me holding in the tears Kristen came in and said my heart rate was up so high that they had to leave. Boooooo, but true. As they said their good bye's and drown me with much needed hugs and kisses, I was exhausted yet wired. I hadn't eaten for like 16 hours and I was still waiting for my other little brother to show up with my first meal since. Cliffie was coming from Washington DC, as he had just started his second internship with Ron Paul . Apparently he jumped on the mega bus to take the 6 hour journey, and was waiting for my other brother to pick him up at 30th St. Station. Mike was an hour late, which made Cliffie a tad pissy, especially since he had to sit in front of a Dunkin Donuts after recently starting his diet. After Mike finally picked him up they got on 676 to journey to the hospital, after which they accidentally got on the bridge to Jersey. They got there with my Wawa sandwich around 3 am! I ate it and went to sleep, being woken up in 4 hours to have blood taken.....Great! This would be my new life I guess, my new routine. Which is why the link I posted in the beginning of this blog is to the T how i felt, and still feel. I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I'm still as the song says," Trying to get a hold on this!"
This song is a full representation of that day in the hospital!....PART 3:After my Mom picked up my sister, she came back in about an hour, I sat there in a weird limbo. Little did I know this would be the ultimate limbo of the ultimate game changer. My nurse came in a couple times just to check on me, and inform me I would soon be on my way to the MRI. During that hour I sat there in a daze, and just know that daze stayed with me for the next 72 hours, truthfully probably the next month. Next stop MRI town, which I had never experienced before. I get up and they tell me to sit down in the wheel chair, being my Granny's granddaughter I scoffed saying I don't need that wheelchair, it's my arms I can't feel my legs work perfectly fine! Ma'am you must sit in the wheel chair to be transported anywhere in the hospital. Whatever! I found myself relating in a new way to any miserable old lady bossing people around, and I quickly let go of my stubbornness. I get wheeled in and they inform me it will be a little bit of a wait, but Wendy Williams Show was on and I revert to some sort of familiarity, "How you Doin?" Once it was my turn they give me directions and tell me to not move. It took about 25 minutes and then i was brought back out to the dreaded wheelchair. The nurses come out to tell me my transporter will be here shortly. It's funny how you run into people from your past, in times when you least expect it. Out comes Kat, who I had known from days long ago, my wild days. It was comforting, which was especially nice in in this extravaganza of unknown. By the time I returned to the E.R. room I was explaining for the billionth time to the billionth Dr. why I was there, what hurt, etc. Which can become extremely annoying when you have to repeat yourself so much! It was all different kinds of Dr.s too, not like I know all the medical fields to explain further, but I mean a lot. Each one's asking me to perform different actions with my "dead arms" and other such limbs. My Mother and I just sit there, awaiting some sort of answer and the next Dr to come in is the one who will be giving us those answers. My nurse says that this Dr. Arrigo is known among other things is known for his bedside manner and he will be more than happy to answer any and every question we have. I'm thinking, " I didn't know a pinched nerve was so complex." I can here a scuffle down the hall and in comes my two Aunts, Chrissy and Cindy. Who are quickly followed by my crazy Uncle Pat, and my even crazier cousin Timmy. (P.S. you are only allowed 2 visitors at a time) My uncle Pat starts telling dirty jokes, that's how we handle things on my Dad's side, with inappropriate laughter. He is interrupted by the first Dr. to give us some answers, Dr. Arrigo. He sits down and starts calmly talking about things like radiation, lymph nodes, and immediate surgery to remove a node. My Mom interrupts him like what are you trying to say, what does all this mean? For the first time since 10:30 AM we got an answer, one we weren't expecting. Dr. Arrigo says," Lymphoma, (we all sit there with mouths open waiting for a more detailed explanation)... as in Cancer." As I sit there in a blur he goes on about how they can't be sure until after surgery, which will take place in an hour. All this life changing news is interrupted by my Aunt Cindy screeching," It's not a pinched nerve?" Followed by my Aunt Chrissy yelling through gritting teeth," No Cindy! Sit down and shut up!" Aaaaaa my family is classic. Before I can blink my eyes in walks the surgeon, Dr. Moore, who looked like Bradley Cooper. Hey Bradley! Giving us the run down for the surgery, I don't think any of us heard it, the word Cancer was still lingering in every one's brain. before I knew it I was being shuffled to the O.R., and giving instructions about anesthetics, and how they were gonna slice and dice my neck to pull out one of the lumps that most likely is Cancerous. I mean before I had my son I had never broken sprained or had a stitch my whole life, and now I'm being wheeled into surgery!When I wake up, I remember crying, just crying and crying, I couldn't feel my arms at all. I remember the nurse telling me there was a zillion people in the waiting room, and she said they could come in 2 at a time, who did I want to see? Apparently my Mom and Aunt Chrissy came first, I have no recollection of this. Next was Hannah ( my friend since I was 5) and my little brother Michael. Now since I have been friends with Hannah I have seen her cry maybe 3 times my whole life, and Mike is a guy's guy who isn't a crier either. So in they come and as I am crying from the anesthetic, I realize so are both of them. Which made me cry harder because that is why i brought them in to keep me from losing it harder. (Mike will kill me for broadcasting his crying...Sorry lil bro) The feeling slowly comes back to my hands as they wheel me up to the Cancer wing. When I get there, overwhelmed that I was in the "Cancer Wing", I am again greeted from an unlikely member of my past.... Kristen! Now Kristen and I went to summer camp for years together as young girls, seeing her made me feel oddly comfortable in this crazy situation. I thank God everyday that she was there, we laughed about the summers of camp, and the shaving cream fights. (I'll explain that in another blog) Leave it to me and my luck to be in the only wing that had a broken air conditioner during the heat, like my plate wasn't full enough! After everything simmered down and I was told to get some rest, I found out about some late night visitors! My four besties from the city, now these girls are tough so I expected no crying. In walks Stephanie, Nicole, Charisse, and Suzie, all with blood shot eyes and blotchy faces. I could tell they were crying all night and I knew if I lost it, then so would they. Their visit was so nice, yet cut short because I guess from me holding in the tears Kristen came in and said my heart rate was up so high that they had to leave. Boooooo, but true. As they said their good bye's and drown me with much needed hugs and kisses, I was exhausted yet wired. I hadn't eaten for like 16 hours and I was still waiting for my other little brother to show up with my first meal since. Cliffie was coming from Washington DC, as he had just started his second internship with Ron Paul . Apparently he jumped on the mega bus to take the 6 hour journey, and was waiting for my other brother to pick him up at 30th St. Station. Mike was an hour late, which made Cliffie a tad pissy, especially since he had to sit in front of a Dunkin Donuts after recently starting his diet. After Mike finally picked him up they got on 676 to journey to the hospital, after which they accidentally got on the bridge to Jersey. They got there with my Wawa sandwich around 3 am! I ate it and went to sleep, being woken up in 4 hours to have blood taken.....Great! This would be my new life I guess, my new routine. Which is why the link I posted in the beginning of this blog is to the T how i felt, and still feel. I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I'm still as the song says," Trying to get a hold on this!"
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Self Diagnosis
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUqdAj7u8zI
PART 2: I figure I will have a cig before I go into the E.R. because we all know that is the equivalent of waiting in line at the D.M.V. Also with me not having an open wound, a a physically visible wound in general I would be pushed back in the line of "emergencies." We walk into the emergency room coughing from dust kicked up by my Grandmom squealing out of the parking lot to get to a garage sale. "Sign here, and put time and date," says the man in charge at Registration. It was Wednesday May 30, 2012, only ten days after my birthday. I will never forget because I specifically remember not knowing the date, asking the man, and him pointing to the "Time square Megatron" size calender behind him. Oops.... Embarrassing. So we sit down in the waiting room, which to my surprise only had 1 other person in front of me. Before I could even enjoy the Readers Digest circa 1982 my name was called to get this process started. Behind Registration was the initial nurse/vital sign check in. She took my temperature, listened to my pulse, and did that thing that goes around your arm and they pump it to that borderline of "that hurts a little" and tears until they figure some number as the air lets out. She also typed into her computer all my basic info, and then the reason for my visit. I showed her how I could not physically lift my arms above my shoulders. Told her how I couldn't put my hair in a ponytail, put on my sacred eyeliner, and that it took 2 hands to brush my teeth. There was no pain, I just simply could not do it, my body would not allow it. My sister and I follow her to a room in the E.R., she gets us settled and says a nurse will be in shortly. At this point I text my Mom, boyfriend, and a couple friends to let them know what was going on. The nurse comes in, , and says she is going confirm all my vitals, and draw some blood. Immediately my upper lip starts to sweat and I start to get dizzy, like I knew it was coming but so soon? I just got here! Better to get it over with, as I give myself the old "calm it down" pep talk. It feels like ten years before she comes back in with the empty tubes and the rest of the fixin's to take my blood. My sister is trying to distract me as the nurse ties that rubbery band around my arm and starts tapping away to try to find a vein. Eww! This part alone makes me want to pass out. When I was about 10 I watched this Lifetime Movie about a drug addict who shot up all the time so she would always be tapping up her own arms, it scarred me for life. So four needle pricks later she can't find a vein, I swear I'm gonna pass out, and they call in another nurse to try. I guess five is my magic number because that's how many times it took. They took my blood and started giving me fluids with an IV. Now at this point I didn't think anything of it, but my friend Charisse said, "I knew it was something right then and there because they don't give you an IV and fluids if your not going to be there for a while." This is when the Dr. first comes in, asks me to do a series of simple arm exercises, asks basic questions, and says she will return shortly. Now I probably checked in around 10 AM, it's now noon and my Mom is telling me she has to pick up my sister and drop her off, and then she will come back to stay with me. I couldn't believe she wanted me to sit here by myself ! But then again you have to remember we all just thought I was there for a pinched nerve, not Cancer. TBC...
PART 2: I figure I will have a cig before I go into the E.R. because we all know that is the equivalent of waiting in line at the D.M.V. Also with me not having an open wound, a a physically visible wound in general I would be pushed back in the line of "emergencies." We walk into the emergency room coughing from dust kicked up by my Grandmom squealing out of the parking lot to get to a garage sale. "Sign here, and put time and date," says the man in charge at Registration. It was Wednesday May 30, 2012, only ten days after my birthday. I will never forget because I specifically remember not knowing the date, asking the man, and him pointing to the "Time square Megatron" size calender behind him. Oops.... Embarrassing. So we sit down in the waiting room, which to my surprise only had 1 other person in front of me. Before I could even enjoy the Readers Digest circa 1982 my name was called to get this process started. Behind Registration was the initial nurse/vital sign check in. She took my temperature, listened to my pulse, and did that thing that goes around your arm and they pump it to that borderline of "that hurts a little" and tears until they figure some number as the air lets out. She also typed into her computer all my basic info, and then the reason for my visit. I showed her how I could not physically lift my arms above my shoulders. Told her how I couldn't put my hair in a ponytail, put on my sacred eyeliner, and that it took 2 hands to brush my teeth. There was no pain, I just simply could not do it, my body would not allow it. My sister and I follow her to a room in the E.R., she gets us settled and says a nurse will be in shortly. At this point I text my Mom, boyfriend, and a couple friends to let them know what was going on. The nurse comes in, , and says she is going confirm all my vitals, and draw some blood. Immediately my upper lip starts to sweat and I start to get dizzy, like I knew it was coming but so soon? I just got here! Better to get it over with, as I give myself the old "calm it down" pep talk. It feels like ten years before she comes back in with the empty tubes and the rest of the fixin's to take my blood. My sister is trying to distract me as the nurse ties that rubbery band around my arm and starts tapping away to try to find a vein. Eww! This part alone makes me want to pass out. When I was about 10 I watched this Lifetime Movie about a drug addict who shot up all the time so she would always be tapping up her own arms, it scarred me for life. So four needle pricks later she can't find a vein, I swear I'm gonna pass out, and they call in another nurse to try. I guess five is my magic number because that's how many times it took. They took my blood and started giving me fluids with an IV. Now at this point I didn't think anything of it, but my friend Charisse said, "I knew it was something right then and there because they don't give you an IV and fluids if your not going to be there for a while." This is when the Dr. first comes in, asks me to do a series of simple arm exercises, asks basic questions, and says she will return shortly. Now I probably checked in around 10 AM, it's now noon and my Mom is telling me she has to pick up my sister and drop her off, and then she will come back to stay with me. I couldn't believe she wanted me to sit here by myself ! But then again you have to remember we all just thought I was there for a pinched nerve, not Cancer. TBC...
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