Family Gathering

So when I had chemo the first time, the first doctor I had explained I would do three treatments of chemo taking Adriamycin  and Cytoxan every three weeks. And then I would take three treatments of Taxol every three weeks. The first combination caused me incredible problems.  I had no idea I could be that exhausted. I could hardly move the third day.  One time I considered falling off the bed and crawling on the floor like an inch worm to get to Paul in the other room and thought that would freak him out. So I walked over and thought it was much easier not to get out of bed. Also smells were horrible, as were tastes. I could hardly eat. Toast was the easiest. It would slowly improve until we repeated this. Ugh!  I had been hearing that Taxol was the worst, that you ached all over. Though the first time I went through this I did ache so much.  I didn't think it was so bad.  It was like bad arthritis to me. Also, I made up for eating. I wanted tacos so much that I made and ate six tacos!  You would have thought I would have lost a lot of weight, but I moved like a slug so I did not lose weight. Of course, when I upped my taco intake, I did gain weight.

At the time Paul died, my cancer had metastasized to my neck. Stage IV.   I also had a couple of spots in the mediastinum (partition separating the right and left thoracic cavities).  They made it clear that anything done were for comfort measures only. So psychologically I was devastated.  They made a type of mask for my face to pin me down while I had radiation. I had a sense of panic each day I was pinned down, however the time in it was seconds. The only bad reaction I had from this was incredible itching. This was worse on my neck. I ended up getting the maximum dose of radiation and this is no longer an option for me.  

Three years later cancer had moved to a lymph node, about the size of a quarter. I now had Kaiser Permanente.   My doctor wanted to do the same chemo but I nixed Adriamycin and Cytoxin. I'm not willing to be that sick again. So I did agree to Taxol since my memories of that weren't so bad.  He also told me, in addition to being Estrogen Receptor Positive, I was also HER2 Positive.  This was a plus because the chemo drug Herceptin was for HER2 Positive Cancers and was amazingly effective.  So I'm taking the Taxol and I hurt really bad all over. I keep upping the pain meds (with the doctor's permission).  Every week I asked for more pain meds and was miserable through all this. It felt like my pain level just kept going up. The Herceptin was not a problem. It can lead to heart problems, but my heart is scanned every three months.  No problems. 

So when the cancer comes back another time, I nix Taxol. He said I would stay on what ever we do until I die or until the cancer comes back. Okay, if I'm not going to get better, I'm not taking stuff that makes me feel lousy. Why?  It doesn't make sense to me. I am doing the Herceptin.  As long as I feel okay, I'll do this.   I share this because I have been asked why I wouldn't take certain medications.  I hope this gives you an idea why cancer patients would refuse some meds.

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I went to a group run by Norma Neil on using pastels making abstract art at Art for Healing.  It was a lot of fun and relaxing.  But I needed to go home and lie down. I was going to go to the women's writing group, but my sense was that I would be in even more pain. I'm trying to get so much done. It is frustrating not to be able to do all these things I used to do. 

My class with Carol Bradshaw was focused on doing washes, using salt for different effects and how to take advantage of it. It is like looking at a Rorschach test which is an ink blot and asking people to identify what they see in it.   We were seeing flowers in what we looked at.  The rocks I tried to paint were pretty poor. Now we are painting bell peppers in a green monotone.   Carol sent me an email saying I'm doing the best washes yet. Here they are.

I had things I needed to take care of but I needed help in getting them done. I did as much as I could, but my back just gets worse and worse.  My grandson Billy helped me in getting a new hose for my propane barbecue and several other chores. It was a relief to have these all done.   Then I went to Visalia for the Helping one Was man Dinner. It was a smaller event this time but pleasant. The woman selected for next month sounded very similar to me. She also pointed out how people find it hard to believe she could be going through so much which has been the same reaction I got. 

I spent the night at Martha's home and we had breakfast at Susan's home. It was delicious and of course great company. I changed my hair appointment to not cut this short, but when I got there Lisa was not well and we rescheduled for next week.  I decided I needed to get home to get in a prone position. I did contact Kaiser through the Internet to renew my pain meds but for some reason it wouldn't allow it and said to call the pharmacy.   I do have an appointment at the pain clinic, but the earliest appointment is not until March 20.

This weekend, my brother-in-law Brian came Saturday and is going home today. We had a great barbecue in n Saturday with Shelley's and Jennifer's families with the girls boyfriends. Wonderful gathering, great food and talk. Today, we made a breakfast casserole and fruit salad. Shelley and Brian identified people in old pictured. Great time and hoping he come more often than every 4 1/2 years. Here are some pictures. 

Crystal and her boyfriend aren't in the picture, they left and Allysa's boyfriend took the picture

Brian, Paul's brother and Shelley

Kevin reading Harry Potter in a Hammock I just put up.
Great spot!

Shelley showed me a couple of stories my grandson Kevin did.  He's a writer! Here is one of the stories

Here's an article about planning ahead. 

http://www.pallimed.org/2015/02/10-practical-things-to-do-when.html?m=1

Here is a poem that is worth thinking about:

CRABBY OLD WOMAN

When an old woman died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in Moosomin, Saskatchewan, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse  took her copy to Alberta.

The old woman’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on this simple, but eloquent, poem.

AND THIS LITTLE OLD WOMAN, WITH NOTHING LEFT TO GIVE TO THE WORLD, IS NOW THE AUTHOR OF THIS ‘ANONYMOUS’ POEM WINGING ACROSS THE INTERNET

CRABBY OLD WOMAN …

What do you see nurses? .. .. .. What do you see?
What are you thinking .. .. .. when you’re looking at me?

A crabby old lady .. .. .. not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. .. .. with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food .. .. .. and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice .. .. .. ‘I do wish you’d try!’

Who seems not to notice .. .. .. the things that you do.
And forever is losing .. .. .. a sock or a shoe?

Who, resisting of not .. .. .. lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding .. .. .. a long day to fill?

Is that what you’re thinking? .. .. .. Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .. .. .. you’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am .. .. .. as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding .. .. ..as I eat at your will.

I’m a small girl of Ten .. .. .. with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. .. .. who love one another.

A young girl of Sixteen .. .. .. with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now .. .. .. a lover she’ll meet.

A bride soon at twenty .. .. .. my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows .. .. .. that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now .. .. .. I have young of my own

Who need me to guide .. .. .. a secure happy home.

A woman of Thirty .. .. .. my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other .. .. .. with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons .. .. .. have grown and are gone,
But my man is beside me .. .. .. to see I don’t mourn.

At Fifty, once more, .. .. .. babies play ’round my knee,
Again, we know children .. .. .. my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me .. .. .. my husband’s now dead.
I look at the future .. .. .. and shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing .. .. .. young of their own.
And I think of the years .. .. .. and the love that I’ve known.

I’m now an old woman .. .. .. and nature is cruel.
‘Tis jest to make old age .. .. .. look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles .. .. .. grace and vigor depart.
There is now a stone .. .. .. where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass .. .. .. a young girl still dwells,
And now and again .. .. .. my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys .. .. .. I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living .. .. .. life over again.

I think of the years, all too few .. .. .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact .. .. .. that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people .. .. .. open and see,
Not a crabby old woman .. .. .. look closer .. .. .. see ME!!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within.

We will all, one day, be there, too!

PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM
The best and most beautiful things of this world can’t be seen or touched. they must be felt by the heart.

Thank you so much for reading.  I was thinking of writing some of the experiences that Paul and I had traveling.  Some are very funny, some just different.  Let me know what you think of that.  Traveling with Paul was a wonderful thing.  I loved it.  And, there are some great stories to tell! So I will see you next Sunday.  I hope you have a good week.           Rachel