Predators

There have been several moments in life since (and during) treatment where I have been asked to help "spread the word" or purchase a specific product/therapy that is said to aid in either the treatment or cure of cancer.

I've heard things like...

This product will help treat the side effects from treatment.

This product will cure your cancer without any other medical intervention.

This product will help you keep your hair in during treatment.

This product will help you so much, you'll have better "numbers" than people who aren't even going through treatment!

This camp will cure you through a combination of prayer and only organic food.

The list goes on and on.  And strangely enough, the people offering these cures were 99% of the time selling them.  What a coincidence!

To the person claiming to fix my side effects or cure my cancer via a product: You are preying on my physical condition.  You are preying on the nausea, the low energy, the bloating, the puking, and the multitude of digestion issues.  You want to tap into the part of me that believes I can beat this sickness--and do it while living like a queen, without side effects and maladies.  If you truly convinced that this product will help me, offer to buy me a bottle and we'll see what happens--but don't send me the link to your promotional page, where I can sign up for automatic monthly deliveries for the low price of….

To the person who thinks they can keep my hair from falling out during treatment: You (although sadly misinformed) are trying to prey on my womanly vanity.  Do your research.  There are studies indicating that 10-15% of people who undergo chemotherapy treatment will keep their hair.  I was one of these.  And although it thinned, it still grew fast enough I had to cut it every week or two.

To the person who claims to have a product to increase my numbers: Do you even know what numbers you're talking about?  No, but you were nice enough to send me a link to a generic video that is in turn, linked to your promotional page where I can purchase for the low price of….

To the person who believed that my lack of faith in God and lack of organic food in my diet was the cause of my illness: F*** you.  God giveth and God taketh away.  Job went through very hard times and throughout it, his faith was not shaken, yet God didn't reach down and release him from his tribulations.  And although he may have had more organic options in his meal plan than I do, I believe that God has more power to heal than any farm-grown, hand-picked avocado.  At the point in time that I heard this one, I was so fed up with life I actually wished cancer on a child of the all-organic eater who was expressing her opinions--just so she would know first-hand that eating all-organic didn't exempt anyone.

If you really want to help, ask if there is anything you can do.  Sit beside me, even if I'm sleeping (having people near me was one of the most comforting things during treatment).  Cook for me.  Talk with me.  PRAY FOR ME.

But don't try to make money off me.

*Also, a HUGE thank you to those who just endured with us.  We needed you and you were there.  Thank you!

Chemotherapy? No Thanks, I'm Good....

Today was supposed to be my second treatment.  As it were, Isaac and I arrived at the office only to discover that my white blood cell count was low and my neutophil count extremely low.

I guess we know the chemo is doing its job.

This means a couple things.  One is that I am extremely prone to getting really sick right now.  Honestly, I'm a little surprised I didn't end up in the ER after my visit home this past weekend.  I disobeyed the "no little kids" rule, the "no hugging" rule, the "limited sun exposure" rule... probably a few others, too.  I'm sure if the doc had known exactly how low my counts were going to dip and how disobedient I'd be, he wouldn't have let us go.  Secretly, I'm glad he didn't know.  (Although, I'm not sure I'd feel the same way if I were hospitalized right now.)

Also, this means that my chemo was delayed a week... which reduces its effectiveness... which means I might have to be in treatment longer.

It also means that the day after my session next week, I have to get a shot that it supposed to make my bone marrow pump out white blood cells like crazy.

I'm not particularly excited about this shot.

I've come across it while reading up on my specific type of treatment and over and over again I see two things about it repeated.  First, it's expensive.  One man's wife needed them and they weren't insured.  It cost them over $12,000 a week.  I can't even image--thank goodness for insurance!  As much as people gripe about ObamaCare, I'm very thankful for it right now, or Isaac and I absolutely would have declared bankruptcy already.

The other thing I read about this shot is that it apparently makes your bones ache like you have a fever.

Oh, joy.

Thankfully, the chemo will probably knock me out for a few days anyway, so I'll be able to take care of all my miserableness at once, rather than stretching it out.  That's one upside.

On another note, my hair is still in tact.  I often find myself running my hands through it, like I'm petting a dog--except I'm petting myself.  It just feels cool.  Occasionally, I'll reach up and pinch some of it and pull to see if any will come out.  The most I've gotten was two hairs at once.  I was under the impression that it would have fallen out by now--although, since shaving it, I've learned that about 3% of people undergoing my treatment keep their hair.

I'm sure that'll be my luck--but only because I already shaved it.  And because I was looking forward to it coming back different.  Maybe red and curly...

I'd be game for anything.