Today is Isaac's birthday.
I feel kind of bad because I really haven't been able to do much to help him celebrate it today. I had chemo on Wednesday and have pretty much been asleep since then. Even now, I will probably only be up for a couple of hours before I knock out again.
And to top that off, I was a bit mad at him earlier because he made me eat about a teaspoon of salt.
Yes, straight up salt.
I have extremely low blood pressure normally, and so when I don't ingest enough salt, sometimes I'll have blackouts when I change positions (such as from laying to sitting, or sitting to standing) because there isn't enough pressure in my veins to get things moving along quickly enough to adjust for the change.
Very rarely will I completely black out. It has only happened once that I can remember--and it just so happened to be after my last chemo session.
It wasn't a huge deal... I can usually tell when they're coming and so I sit down or lay down until they're over.
Apparently that experience bothered Isaac, because he decided he didn't want to wait to see if it would happen again and decided the best way to prevent it would be to give me salt BEFORE I blacked out.
So today, as I was slowly waking from my chemo-coma, he came and stood in front of me with the salt shaker and a glass of water.
I was so angry. I know that I need to take it, but I like to do it on my own time and not be babysat like a five-year-old.
And really..... who likes to eat salt? Like, a small fist full?
Not I.
We had a stand-off for a few moments. Me, not wanting to give in and just swallow the dang stuff, and he, not moving until I had.
He won.
I started liking him again a few minutes after the nasty stuff had washed all the way out of my mouth.
Really, I feel bad for him. Who spends their birthday hanging around the house while their wife lays unconscious on the couch? It's probably not how he preferred to spend it, but I'm thankful he did...
The upside of today is that someone in his family sent him a gift certificate, so he went to "spoil" himself with some Sonic.
Ah, the simple pleasures in life.
Aug 5, 2011
Aug 4, 2011
It Keeps Getting Better
This time of chemotherapy seems to be going the best so far.
No reactions to the drugs I'm taking.
No constipation issues (so far).
No extreme pains anywhere.
I'm just so sleepy....
Before cancer, it was pretty typical for me to get up around 4:30am to make it to Surefire Bootcamp on time and then be up and at it all day long until around 10pm or so. That was my normal and I loved it!
Today, I slept until noon. I took a nap from 5:45 til 8:15, and I'll probably go to bed around 11pm. Translation: I will probably only be conscious for about nine hours today.
It's frustrating sometimes because I feel like I'm "wasting time." Although, when I sit back and think about it, there's really not a whole lot I can do anyway.
Isaac likes to poke fun at me when I sleep this much, calling me a slacker and a bum, but then every time, he'll turn serious and say, "No, really, Ash... your body is just working on healing. Go to sleep. Sleep lots."
I'm glad he's an advocate for it, because that's about all I'm getting done right about now.
No reactions to the drugs I'm taking.
No constipation issues (so far).
No extreme pains anywhere.
I'm just so sleepy....
Before cancer, it was pretty typical for me to get up around 4:30am to make it to Surefire Bootcamp on time and then be up and at it all day long until around 10pm or so. That was my normal and I loved it!
Today, I slept until noon. I took a nap from 5:45 til 8:15, and I'll probably go to bed around 11pm. Translation: I will probably only be conscious for about nine hours today.
It's frustrating sometimes because I feel like I'm "wasting time." Although, when I sit back and think about it, there's really not a whole lot I can do anyway.
Isaac likes to poke fun at me when I sleep this much, calling me a slacker and a bum, but then every time, he'll turn serious and say, "No, really, Ash... your body is just working on healing. Go to sleep. Sleep lots."
I'm glad he's an advocate for it, because that's about all I'm getting done right about now.
Aug 3, 2011
Fear of Needles
Let me tell you something. If you ever get cancer and have a fear of needles, you'll be getting over that real quick.
I have blood drawn at least once a week, plus more on the weeks where I have PET scans, MUGA scans, or pulmonary function tests (PFT). In addition to all of that crap, I also have to get my chemo put in through my port every other week.
So, on average, that comes to at least 6 pokes a month.
More than I'd probably had in my entire life combined--prior to marriage.
I had chemo this morning and in the process of being injected with my four drugs and two anti-nausea drugs, I managed to find it in myself to take a picture of the most peculiar looking one: adriamycin.
This is the one that is SUPPOSED TO make my hair fall out.
It's failing.
I still have quite a bit of hair. You can tell that it has thinned out, but... I've been mentally prepared to look like a lab rat and I'm a checklist person and it bothers me that it won't just fall out so I can check it off my list and deal with it.
Back to the needles....
Last time I had to get my PET, MUGA, and PFT I hadn't become accustomed to being poked every week and was so nervous about them drawing my blood for all of these tests. I can say with confidence now that it doesn't even phase me. It wouldn't even bother me if I had to get it drawn every day--which hopefully won't happen because I'm doing what I can to avoid Type II Diabetes... but you never know!
Also, Isaac got a Playstation move from his parents for his 24th birthday, which is on Friday. He's like a little kid with it. All I hear when he's playing it is, "oh man..." "POW! GOT 'EM!" and other various sound effects. It truly is like I have an eight year old boy living here now--but, in the words of Ledisi, "it's alright." Beautiful singer.
I played him in bocce ball, disc golf, and volleyball for the last three hours...
I'm sad to say that I lost in everything except disc golf. Yes, I lost volleyball.... even after being on the varsity team from sophomore to senior year and still playing over the past few years in Beyer hall with the crew. I'm blaming it on the controllers... and the area in which you have to play.
Isaac understood that you don't actually have to move to play the game, so he was stationary, while, when I had a ball going toward the sideline, I was shuffling across the living room floor to sprawl out and dive but by then, the "eye" couldn't see my controller anymore and so my girl just stood there. LAME.
However, it was a really good workout and by the time it was done, I was sweating like crazy while Isaac was barely warm. That's my reward for pretending it's real.
Oh--and for those of you who are wondering what I am doing to be proactive about NOT getting constipated this time... I started taking stool softeners today and I will be taking a laxative before bed tonight to get things moving along.
I really would like to avoid that situation happening again if possible!!!!
I have blood drawn at least once a week, plus more on the weeks where I have PET scans, MUGA scans, or pulmonary function tests (PFT). In addition to all of that crap, I also have to get my chemo put in through my port every other week.
So, on average, that comes to at least 6 pokes a month.
More than I'd probably had in my entire life combined--prior to marriage.
This is the one that is SUPPOSED TO make my hair fall out.
It's failing.
I still have quite a bit of hair. You can tell that it has thinned out, but... I've been mentally prepared to look like a lab rat and I'm a checklist person and it bothers me that it won't just fall out so I can check it off my list and deal with it.
Back to the needles....
Last time I had to get my PET, MUGA, and PFT I hadn't become accustomed to being poked every week and was so nervous about them drawing my blood for all of these tests. I can say with confidence now that it doesn't even phase me. It wouldn't even bother me if I had to get it drawn every day--which hopefully won't happen because I'm doing what I can to avoid Type II Diabetes... but you never know!
Also, Isaac got a Playstation move from his parents for his 24th birthday, which is on Friday. He's like a little kid with it. All I hear when he's playing it is, "oh man..." "POW! GOT 'EM!" and other various sound effects. It truly is like I have an eight year old boy living here now--but, in the words of Ledisi, "it's alright." Beautiful singer.
I played him in bocce ball, disc golf, and volleyball for the last three hours...
Isaac understood that you don't actually have to move to play the game, so he was stationary, while, when I had a ball going toward the sideline, I was shuffling across the living room floor to sprawl out and dive but by then, the "eye" couldn't see my controller anymore and so my girl just stood there. LAME.
However, it was a really good workout and by the time it was done, I was sweating like crazy while Isaac was barely warm. That's my reward for pretending it's real.
Oh--and for those of you who are wondering what I am doing to be proactive about NOT getting constipated this time... I started taking stool softeners today and I will be taking a laxative before bed tonight to get things moving along.
I really would like to avoid that situation happening again if possible!!!!
New Drivers License
Yesterday I went to get my Michigan driver's license.
Let me tell you, it's a very different experience here than it was in Iowa. I walked into the room which was already crowded with at least fifty people. There were people of almost every racial background and various ages and instead of three or four stations like our office in Ames, there were at least ten.
When I arrived, I pulled my number off the turn-o-meter and sat down in one of the few open chairs. I was H01. They were only on G68.
Goodness gracious. Good thing I brought my phone with.
The nice thing about a place so crowded was that people got tired of waiting and left. Even though I was over thirty numbers away from being called, I only had to wait for maybe thirty or forty minutes. Not too shabby.
When my number finally did get called, I was with a sweet older southern gal. I think her name was Roberta or something like that. The poor woman was in training and I don't think she'd yet learned to transfer a license from state to state. She asked for my paperwork and I handed her my birth certificate, my marriage license, my drivers license, my passport, a bill addressed to my current address, and my lease agreement.
The first mistake she made was recording the information for my marriage license in the birth certificate slot. And then didn't know what to do with my bills.... the man next to her had to coach her through it all.
I'm not complaining. I've been in the trainee spot before and it can make you get flustered pretty quick.
I just won't be surprised if they call me and say, "Uh... ma'am? Something isn't right with your paperwork."
And my picture on my new license of me will be with a bald head...
Our miracle of the week was concerning car insurance.
For those of you who know me well, you know I have a lead foot. I've been working on taming it over the past year or so and I'm getting better, but I still have two tickets on my record that I am waiting for to fall off.
The unfortunate thing about insurance was that we moved from Iowa, which has some of the lowest rates in the nation, to Michigan, which is almost THE highest. My payment was supposed to more than double.
Ouch.
My policy is due to expire tomorrow and so all this week and the last, Isaac and I have been running around, trying to figure out which company we want to use, what coverage we would like to get, and so on and so forth. He's been with State Farm since he was fourteen while I've been with Progressive for about three years now.
During this process, I learned that switching insurance providers is kind of like switching hair stylists.... you don't really want to do it unless you feel that you HAVE to. I'm not sure why, but you just don't. I wanted to stay with Progressive while Isaac felt more comfortable with me joining his policy with State Farm.
I decided it was going to have to be up to Isaac what we would do. It was just too hard for me to decide because I believe in my head that I have control over most everything in my life. This was another issue of control: if I can control myself and be careful to not get in an accident, I don't see why we can't get the cheapest insurance.
Isaac sees things differently though. He sees variables and uncontrollable circumstances that could ruin us financially if something did happen. While we were discussing it and I was explaining that I don't forsee anything that I would do that would put us in a bad spot, his reply was, "Well did you forsee getting cancer?"
Smarty pants.
I actually have planned on getting lymphoma for some time--I just wasn't expecting it to be right after I got married or when I was 23--but if it didn't happen, I was going to be thankful. When you've had an uncle who fought with it for ten years and eventually died from it, it's just kind of always in the back of your head. That mindset is maybe why having cancer doesn't bother me as much as it might someone who doesn't have those same assumptions.
Anyway, while meeting with his State Farm guy yesterday, Isaac learned some good news: I don't have to switch to Michigan insurance for a year!!! HECK YES!
I guess they consider it a transitioning period and so it is not illegal for me to do so. Then, by the time we have to switch, I'll be a month away from 25, which will make our policy considerably cheaper.
That, my friends, is a miracle--and that is what we are thankful for this week.
Let me tell you, it's a very different experience here than it was in Iowa. I walked into the room which was already crowded with at least fifty people. There were people of almost every racial background and various ages and instead of three or four stations like our office in Ames, there were at least ten.
When I arrived, I pulled my number off the turn-o-meter and sat down in one of the few open chairs. I was H01. They were only on G68.
Goodness gracious. Good thing I brought my phone with.
The nice thing about a place so crowded was that people got tired of waiting and left. Even though I was over thirty numbers away from being called, I only had to wait for maybe thirty or forty minutes. Not too shabby.
When my number finally did get called, I was with a sweet older southern gal. I think her name was Roberta or something like that. The poor woman was in training and I don't think she'd yet learned to transfer a license from state to state. She asked for my paperwork and I handed her my birth certificate, my marriage license, my drivers license, my passport, a bill addressed to my current address, and my lease agreement.
The first mistake she made was recording the information for my marriage license in the birth certificate slot. And then didn't know what to do with my bills.... the man next to her had to coach her through it all.
I'm not complaining. I've been in the trainee spot before and it can make you get flustered pretty quick.
I just won't be surprised if they call me and say, "Uh... ma'am? Something isn't right with your paperwork."
And my picture on my new license of me will be with a bald head...
*****Update on August 9, 2011*****
I got my license! Here's a picture of it! They're not as cool as the Iowa ones, but they're alright.
Our miracle of the week was concerning car insurance.
For those of you who know me well, you know I have a lead foot. I've been working on taming it over the past year or so and I'm getting better, but I still have two tickets on my record that I am waiting for to fall off.
The unfortunate thing about insurance was that we moved from Iowa, which has some of the lowest rates in the nation, to Michigan, which is almost THE highest. My payment was supposed to more than double.
Ouch.
My policy is due to expire tomorrow and so all this week and the last, Isaac and I have been running around, trying to figure out which company we want to use, what coverage we would like to get, and so on and so forth. He's been with State Farm since he was fourteen while I've been with Progressive for about three years now.
During this process, I learned that switching insurance providers is kind of like switching hair stylists.... you don't really want to do it unless you feel that you HAVE to. I'm not sure why, but you just don't. I wanted to stay with Progressive while Isaac felt more comfortable with me joining his policy with State Farm.
I decided it was going to have to be up to Isaac what we would do. It was just too hard for me to decide because I believe in my head that I have control over most everything in my life. This was another issue of control: if I can control myself and be careful to not get in an accident, I don't see why we can't get the cheapest insurance.
Isaac sees things differently though. He sees variables and uncontrollable circumstances that could ruin us financially if something did happen. While we were discussing it and I was explaining that I don't forsee anything that I would do that would put us in a bad spot, his reply was, "Well did you forsee getting cancer?"
Smarty pants.
I actually have planned on getting lymphoma for some time--I just wasn't expecting it to be right after I got married or when I was 23--but if it didn't happen, I was going to be thankful. When you've had an uncle who fought with it for ten years and eventually died from it, it's just kind of always in the back of your head. That mindset is maybe why having cancer doesn't bother me as much as it might someone who doesn't have those same assumptions.
Anyway, while meeting with his State Farm guy yesterday, Isaac learned some good news: I don't have to switch to Michigan insurance for a year!!! HECK YES!
I guess they consider it a transitioning period and so it is not illegal for me to do so. Then, by the time we have to switch, I'll be a month away from 25, which will make our policy considerably cheaper.
That, my friends, is a miracle--and that is what we are thankful for this week.
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