Hair, Love, Hope, and Cancer

     You know what they say, third times the charm...hopefully. This is the third post I've started trying to publish a third post. Making my thoughts make sense on paper is hard! I should really just wear a recording headset for all the "blog share" thoughts I have. It would definitely have to be waterproof for my shower thinking time. I can't be the only one who uses shower time to think instead of sing, right? Anyways, onto the actual post.
     This week has been hard, the last six months has been hard for that matter. Cancer and death both really suck...a lot! Mama started losing her hair a little bit after the third chemo treatment but it really started coming out after this past treatment (the 4th). It's hard to believe we are only on treatment 5 of 20. It feels like we've been fighting for so much longer, that's probably the exhaustion talking. It's 2:30AM here my sleep cycle is still all kinds of funky; thanks cancer really appreciate it. Our treatments are every Friday, that makes for...interesting weekends. Mama has been trying to be so strong but the hair hit her really hard. She asked me to comb it out for her while she was in the bath Saturday the hurt etched on her face when she saw how much was coming out was more painful than every hit I've ever taken. I really hate cancer.
     Tuesday night she was really feeling rough. The nausea gets worse with every treatment, only 16 more to go. They can find a cure by then. I scratched her head for over two hours (my shoulder is still a bit sore). Hair came out with ever run through my fingers made. I used my lap and shirt to keep her from feeling it fall. I made sure there wasn't any left on the pillows or sheets when I left. I could prevent the pain of waking up to it for at least one morning. When I started scratching her head she said something that made me angry at everything but her, "I'm sorry for my hair getting everywhere." The shame in her voice made me glad she was turned away from me because I'm sure my face went about 3 or 4 shades red. "Don't apologize for things you can't control, Mama." She was hurting and trying not to puke her guts up but felt the need to apologize for strands of hair on a pillow. Someone want to try and explain to me how that isn't messed up? WARNING: Don't be dumb enough to accept that empty invitation I haven't had enough stress relief recently to resist knocking the snot out of you.
     This process has redefined love in my eyes. I have seen many couples in the blood work or treatment waiting room but only one of them was a husband accompanying his wife to treatment instead of vice versa. There have been many women coming for treatment usually accompanied by another female but this past Friday a man renewed my hope in men just by sitting in a chair. He was playing on his phone but with one hand he held his wife's hand and ran his thumb back and forth. He was subconsciously caring for and soothing her. She and I were talking away about restaurants in the area that we enjoyed. This display of love was normal for them. This woman is going through a living hell (trust me it's an accurate description) and her husband is going the extra mile to make sure she is loved, taken care of, and shown she is loved looks and routine be damned. That's the kind of love I want. Make your actions support your claims. Treat others as you wish to be treated.
     I've been hearing the same thing over and over again lately "focus on you" "take care of yourself." I have to be honest with ya'll, I have no clue how to do that. What does that mean? Are you trying to subtly say you care or you're worried or what? I'm a giver, I take care of others, that's what I've done my whole life. It's part of who I am and from what I've witnessed and been told a part many appreciate. Yes, I know if I keep going like this I'm going to crash and burn, I'm working on it. But I would prefer to get back closer to normality without medication and doing so is going to take time. Grief takes it toll on people differently and cancer has decided to elongate the cycle, yeah cancer rocks. That being said if anybody else dies in the next month or two I'm moving to a Caribbean island. One that doesn't have a working lighthouse. Ya'll think I'm kidding, I've researched this. Though, packing for that would mean cleaning my catch-all couch (I think there's still a couch under there)...we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
     By the way, do ya'll know how fun it is to have a meeting with the Dean of Student Life at your college about your life as a necessary precaution? It's not. It's also no fun having to have the "my mother is being treated for breast cancer. I'm her primary caregiver, what paperwork do you need in case I have to miss class in an emergency situation?" talk with your professors. It really sucks when one of them lost her mother to cancer last year. Nope not having THAT discussion with you, bye! *quickly walk from room crying* Did I mention Tuesday really REALLY SUCKED!
     Only 11 more months to this awful marathon. I can make it, we can make it. We will win. We are stronger than Cancer. The world will not run out of concealer, caffeine, or my best friend's awesomeness in the next year. Kettle corn and sweet potato fries are another story (I should probably take stock in those.)
   It is now 4:30AM and I have finally completed a third post. Yay me!!! Pssshhh I don't need sleep and this was more fun than finding the couch under the catch-all. On to managerial accounting homework cause doing interpretive math sleep deprived is always a great idea. Did I forget to tell you my sarcasm has yet to be hindered? The pain management doctor didn't seem very appreciative of that fact either, oh well.

TTYS,
Aleena

Second Post; Genetic Consultation

      Sorry this post is so late. Life got crazier with the holidays and family. I know you all have been waiting to hear how the genetic consultation went so I'll give you a quick run down. Genetic counselors like the shock and aw affect. Well that lady sure shocked me when she told me that because of my mother's family history (without blood work back yet, mind you) I would have to get my boobs cut off at 30. I don't think so, chick! If I have my way they're not coming off until they look like old lady flapjack boobs. You can keep your mutilation ideas to yourself! Well we did get the blood work back and mama is NOT a carrier so as of yet my natural-boob-life is still about 20 years. Take that presumptuous counselor lady!
     In other news, mama got her port put in today. The procedure went about as well as could be expected and she is now resting. For those who may be wondering how a port gets put in DO NOT google it. The real life images that come up tend to show infected ones and are not easy on the eyes or stomach, especially if you or your loved one are about to go through the procedure. Here's a nicer way of showing how it is placed:

     For those wondering how I'm handling everything so far my best response is I'm still alive and the world is still turning. More on that later. I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Bye guys!

TTYS,

Aleena

First Post; Talking through Day 1

     I'm actually starting this thing! Yaaaay progress! Figuring out exactly where to start is a bit more difficult though. I guess I can start with how we are already up to appointment #6 (quick note: I don't count blood work in the appt count). If you want to be picky we technically are up to #7 because finance should not be shoved under registration but that's a rant for another day. Here we go, my first major post of the cancer blog. Like it, love it, or leave it, it's your choice.
     Day 1 was the Monday that started my Final Exams Week but I'd be damned if my mama was gonna go through this without me there for support. Family Disclaimer: Stop freaking out, I did great on all my finals hence the really good final grades after the really crapola semester in life. I can still do what I need to do guys, I've been doing this for years now, yeesh! Back to the intro post of the blog, okay... What I call Day 1 is what I consider to be the absolute non-negotiable start of the kick cancer's @$$ journey, the day we actually met our Oncologist. You know it's a serious cancer appointment when the hospital you visit has the word cancer in it's title. So far I think MD Anderson Cancer Center is a fantastic institution, we will see if that changes as time goes on. Okay, anyway, Day 1 had 3 of our so far 6 appointments: consultations with the oncologist, the surgeon, and the social worker (all of which are really nice people). We got to the hospital at 8:40 the morning of Day 1 (appt #1 was not until 10am, registration sucks) and did not leave the hospital until after 5:15. It was a long mentally, physically, and emotionally draining day.
     The first appointment was with the oncologist from whom we found out Mama would have to go through chemo before surgery, that was really tough news for her. We had all been thinking positive and hoping worse case scenario she would only have chemo AFTER surgery. Nope! Big giant bubble burst right there, thanks cancer! Mama tried so hard to be strong and hold it together but she couldn't stop the tears. It broke my heart and I cried with her a little bit but she needed a rock to lean on and guess who drew the metaphorical subconscious short-straw on that one...me. My emotional brain got clicked off and my business brain clicked on. Straight to the point medical discussions, read the body language of the room, address everyone's concerns, insert positive thoughts, keep everyone as light-hearted as possible, and plant a smile. Southern small town business etiquette at it's finest. I asked the necessary questions, took notes, made sure everyone was clear on what was being discussed and what the game plan was, and got the necessary paperwork. The surgeon just basically confirmed what the oncologist said but with more detail into the surgical aspect of the treatment. The social worker just made sure we had all the information for the support groups and help that was available to us. They are very thorough on making sure you have all the information possible to understand what exactly it is you are going through. It was A LOT of information to receive and try to digest in one day.
     So much information that I decided all the folder's and notebooks needed their own backpack and binder to help keep them organized, together, and in the proper order. Don't judge me, everyone has their own coping mechanisms for stress overload mine just happens to be cleaning and organizing. My room is definitely not a good example of that, it got hit by the "I can't find my freaking wallet" anxiety hurricane this morning. My wallet was in the front pocket of said information organizing backpack, just so you know. Yeah, I'm coping really well with this diagnosis...
     We were then sent for a full body CT (appt #4) and a ECG (appt #5) downtown at the M.D Anderson main campus the Wednesday and Friday of that week. My exams were only on Tuesday and Thursday. (Family Disclaimer: I promise you my schooling is a priority but so is being there for my mother, some of ya'll may just have to get over that.) Fighting downtown Houston traffic there and back was not at all fun and reminded me why I can't be an Uber driver. I may have a mild case of road rage or just be irritably allergic to houstonian driving techniques...the world may never know. We get the results from both appt #4 & #5 back tomorrow when we meet with the oncologist again. Appt #6 was a genetic consultation and blood work which will be discussed in the next post. It was mind blowing.
     Now you are up to date! I completed my first coping with cancer blog post *does little happy dance*. Next post coming your way soon. Keep your eyes peeled for the link and share it if you want. Bye, guys!