I don't think I have ever considered myself to be fat; in fact, I know I have never been fat.  However, I have always maintained a healthy lifestyle and exercised at least 3 times a week (usually more) and despite my efforts I have always had a little extra padding that I could never get rid of.

When I found out I had cancer and was going to have to go through chemo (prepare yourself-- this is pretty sick), one of my first thoughts was "I'm finally going to lose that weight that I could never get rid of." 

Six months later and the polls are in: I am 1 of 10 people in the entire history of chemotherapy that actually gained weight instead of lost it. 

It's pretty depressing to have no hair, no eyelashes, a big portacath sticking out of your chest, AND a big butt.   However, I know in the long run it is good that I have kept a good appetite because your body can't heal without nutrients and calories to keep it going. 

So, as I sit here cramming gummi worms into my mouth, I'm thinking that this weight gain has just given me one more thing to look forward to when chemo is over: getting to exercise and control cravings so I can fit into my jeans again!!

My parents and I went and saw the musical HAIR today.  The musical itself was very good, but something happened while we were there that I haven't stopped thinking about since. 
A few people in the audience were dressed up in 60s garb; one of them, a woman about 60 or so, was sitting right behind us.  I turned to look when she walked in and she quickly started showing off all of her accessories: bell bottoms with patches, peace sign earrings and necklace, etc.  I smiled and said she looked cute and turned back around.  Not 5 minutes later she was standing behind me, handing me her necklace.  She said it was so I would fit in a bit more.  After the second act she gave me her matching earrings too.  As we left I gave her a big hug and said thank you and she whispered back, "oh baby, I made that jewelry earlier this morning and I had no idea why.  Now I know why." 

It is crazy how the smallest thing can mean so much.  I will never forget that woman. 

What a great example of how God works through us to help and comfort others! 

I hope I can remembers this always and try to do something little to help others at every chance.

It is the night before chemo #11 and I am having a bit of trouble sleeping.  I am awake with pure dred.  I always say every week is different; that is true in many ways, but some of my side effects are always the same.  I also have about 4 emotional stages that I go through every two weeks.

*Monday, the day of chemo, is always just a bummer.  No real pain but a lot of sleepiness and a funny feeling in my stomach. I enter my first stage of emotions: no emotions.  I try not to think about anything and get through it as fast as I can.
*Tuesday, the day after chemo, I am still very tired.  The funny taste in my mouth begins.  I am bloated from all the chemicals in my body.  My pump makes me very anxious.
*Wednesday, the next day, the day I get my pump out, is my worst day.  I have to take the most medicine this day and I get shots at the doctor's office.  All I want to do is sleep.  Walking from the car to the hospital drains me.  I start getting indigestion from every thing I eat.
*The next two days, Thursday and Friday, I feel like crap, but I am still successfully ignoring  that fact.  I am tired, but not tired enough to sleep- just tired enough to not want to leave the house.  I sit around and do nothing.
*Saturday I enter into my next emotional stage: bitterness and anger.  My jaw starts to hurt and my tounge swells up.  I am pissed that I have cancer and no one else does.  The indigestion starts to go away.
*Sunday I try to do something normal but fail because I am too tired.  It pisses me off that I never feel good.
*Monday I can start running errands with my mom.  The mouth pain is beginning to stop and bad taste in my mouth goes away.  My stomach starts getting crampy.
*Tuesday begins my third emotional stage: extreme frustration.  Most of my first chemo symptoms are gone.  I am not as tired.  My stomach feels like someone has cut me open and is pouring acid on my internal organs- it is sharp, continuous pain that cannot be eased.  I tell everyone I talk to that I hate cancer.
*Wednesday is the same as Tuesday.
*Thursday my stomach starts feelilng better.  I am weary of doing anything for fear of aggrivating my stomach again.  I start getting little blisters all over my hands.
*Friday begins my last emotional stage: joy of victory over cancer.  Stomach feels great.  Almost feel normal.  Continues for the rest of the weekend.  Feel even better if I see Curtis- I may even forget that I have cancer for a few hours.
*Then we start all over again. 

Ah, the joys of cancer...

To begin I want to clarify the purpose of all of the posts on this page.  Somewhat out of boredom and somewhat out of general frustration with cancer I decided that I wanted to start writing down some of the many things that I think about during the day (I think I sit and think for an average of about 3 hours a day).  At firs't I was just going to type them up in Microsoft Word as something just for me; something I could go back and look at months from now.  Then I thought that posting them on here was a better idea- that perhaps something I write may help someone going though a similar situation.  So, if you haven't already, shave your head, grab a ginger ale, subdue your urge to vommit, and get ready to see things through the eye's of a cancer patient...

The "Pink Elephant Effect" is, by far, one of my least favorite things about having cancer.  For those unfamilar with the Pink Elephant, it is something that everyone sees or notices, however, everyone is afraid to mention it or even act as though they are aware of it for the sake of being polite or politically correct (its huge and its pink! HELLO!?! I know you see it! Don't pretend like you don't see it!).  I am a walking Pink Elephant.  Therefore, the "Pink Elephant Effect" is going on all around me all of the time.

I do not try to hide the fact that I have cancer.  I never wear my wig, I don't try to fill in my eyelashes or eyebrows, I do wear a scarf when I leave my house but only because I have these silly "psuedo-hairs" growing on my head.  Otherwise, I'd walk around bald 24/7.  However, when I meet new people and sometimes even when I see people I know, everyone feels the need to pretend like they don't realize that I am sick.  They ask me stupid questions like "Are you going to move out of your parent's house soon?" or "Do you have a job yet?"  The best is when I say no to the later and they say something like "Oh, have you found that the job market is still pretty bad?"  or "Oh, what are you doing then?"  I usually have an internal debate at this point: do I state the obvious and make them look stupid, or do I play along?  I usually just say something like "I'm taking a break"  when what I really want to do is scream "I have cancer, stupid!"

I realize that people are just trying to be nice or don't know what to say so they just avoid the subject, but it really makes me feel uncomfortable.  I start wondering if people may actually think that I shave my head because I think its cool or, worse yet, enjoy wearing a fannie pack (I have to carry a chemo pump in one for 3 days after each chemo).  It certainly isn't encouraging that the other day one of our neighbors asked my mom if I was a punk rocker who shaved her head.  My daily attire consists of sweatpants, a tshirt (usually a sorority one), and Birkenstocks; how many sorority affiliated punk rockers have you seen wearing Birkenstocks?