tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89497082086493629732024-02-06T22:40:09.853-05:00pattyhascancer: I could have won the lottery, but instead I got cancer.Hodgkin's Lymphoma is a rare form of lymphatic cancer that attacks one's lymphnodes. Each one of us has about 600 lymphnodes in our body (I only have 599). They are an important part of our immune system. In 2007, only 8,190 people will be diagnosed in the United States. 3,720 of them will be women. Fortunately, Hodgkin's Disease is extremely treatable with about a 95% success rate.pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-85424057414550826212011-04-23T16:13:00.001-04:002011-04-23T16:13:20.284-04:00<a href="http://beingcancer.net/"><img src="http://beingcancer.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/DP_BC_Resource_Badge.gif" alt="BEING CANCER NETWORK: Resources for Bloggers" width="116" height="120" /></a>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-20291739140927978462010-11-16T20:38:00.006-05:002010-11-16T20:55:26.087-05:00My friend Benjamin Rubenstein has finished his memoir about his experiences with cancer. It's called: "TWICE How I Became A Cancer-Slaying Super Man Before I Turned 21." We have shared many stories over the years and I am extremely proud of him. I would always turn to his blog when I needed to laugh at cancer. He is the definition of the word "perseverance," both in terms of his attitude towards survival and his determination to get his story published! <br /><br />So... you should buy a copy of his book here: <br /><br /><a href="http://benjaminrubenstein.com/the-book.html"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9p3-7kXs4vh5AVmr8Qo0L01k7rBTDYdMgjcaGdC9nRxgxlPqltJo7KPnddYeWLxum_7foDOfUhViXjRLcyw6Z3C2t-rAcoEuZ8ZND4fW0OrZ-uMoqZunhDnndWsYArF-Nk5y6ZZkxokn/s400/book+cover.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540328598053883042" /></a><br /> <br />--Over six years ago I began writing a book about my experiences with cancer at sixteen years old, again at nineteen, and growing into adulthood in the aftermath. After 4,000-odd hours and countless drafts, I am pleased to report that my book has been published and is available to read. The title is TWICE: How I Became a Cancer-Slaying Super Man Before I Turned 21, and it can be purchased through my publisher’s website or directly from me at bmrubenstein@gmail.com. I want to thank you for your support, and am honored to be able to share this with you.<br /> <br />Hear what others are saying about TWICE:<br /> <br />Jonathan Kellerman, New York Times 33-time bestselling author<br />“Benjamin Rubenstein is a gifted story-teller and the story he tells in TWICE is riveting. This is a stunning page-turner of a memoir, devoid of the mawkishness that often mars the genre. TWICE is brutally honest, sometimes rib-achingly funny and all the more profound for the author’s brave exploration of himself.”<br /> <br />Library Journal by Jodith Janes, Cleveland Clinic Library<br />“It is estimated that only 150 diagnosis of Ewing's sarcoma are made annually and only two-thirds of these patients survive more than five years. Rubenstein was diagnosed with Ewings's at 16, but was determined not to be a "Sick Kid" for "I would never be able to discard the Sick Kid label." Writing with wit and humor, he chronicles his fight with this terrifying disease. Rubenstein's belief in the superhuman ability to fight his cancer gave him the courage to face chemotherapy and its devastating side effects, bone biopsies, a second cancer (leukemia), a stem-cell transplant, more chemotherapy, infections, hemorrhagic cystitis, weight loss, and osteoporosis. In spite of invasive diagnostic tests, treatment set-backs, and demanding physical therapy, he never fears he will lose his battle. The strong support of his family is documented with love and occasional frustration at what he sees as over-protectiveness. A University of Virginia economics degree is testament to his survival and entry into young adulthood. <br /><br />Verdict: An inspiring and fascinating personal account of a long and often painful journey that would appeal to other patients and their families.”pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-85579686838828863992010-11-16T20:24:00.007-05:002010-11-16T20:33:12.255-05:00<a href="http://www.nowwhat.org.au/community/blog/who-s-your-blogger-part-six"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 110px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4O1_WGWHdX0kQ9nX4I-ULSDA9XrrZnntwBouz9D7cSGRMNywGMh43dNgK3wm_jmoBRW8Ehc7X2nPoBe-XKgD6wlNGzvN8iw-6AjdI4MC5SjtuU0YmkBjkpQKnIJR_hCf5Fpm6-OmPS4jN/s400/Now+What.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540324160931238690" /></a><br /><br />This is an awesome new online forum for young people!<br /><br />Check out the feature on my blog by clicking the picture!pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-35638559478041953042009-06-22T12:46:00.003-04:002009-06-22T12:50:58.441-04:00I was recently contacted by the National Awareness Coordinator for the Mesothelioma Cancer Center. Asbestos.com asked me to post this important information regarding asbestos exposure.
<br />
<br /><meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><title></title><meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 3.0 (Win32)"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } A:link { color: #0000ff } --> </style> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><u><b>Mesothelioma</b></u></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Mesothelioma is a cancer that develops in the mesothelial cells that line many organs and body cavities. With this type of cancer, cells of the mesothelium become abnormal and divide uncontrollably and without order. They can attack and harm nearby tissues and organs. Most cases of mesothelioma begin in the thoracic cavity (pleura) or the abdominal cavity (peritoneum).</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">One of the only known causes of <a href="http://www.asbestos.com/"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><u>mesothelioma</u></span></a> is exposure to a mineral known as asbestos. Asbestos was in widespread use throughout most of the 20<sup>th</sup> century in a number of military and industrial applications. The primary uses included insulation, brake lining, flooring and piping. Asbestos was valued so highly because of its durable and fire-resistant qualities. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A large majority of houses built before 1980 also contain asbestos insulation. The substance is harmless if left undisturbed, but once it is damaged or deteriorated it releases microscopic asbestos fibers into the air which can then be easily inhaled or ingested. Most mesothelioma cases caused by asbestos can be traced back to military or occupational exposure. The most common occupations affected by asbestos include firefighters, electricians and auto mechanics. Secondhand exposure is also a risk for families of those who worked with asbestos. The fibers can attach themselves to clothing and be brought home to the worker’s family.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Unfortunately, effective treatment of mesothelioma is not very common. The reason for this is that <a href="http://www.asbestos.com/mesothelioma/malignant/"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><u>malignant mesothelioma</u></span></a> has an unusually long latency period. It normally takes anywhere from 25 to 50 years for noticeable symptoms to show up. Because of this, mesothelioma is not typically diagnosed until its later stages when treatment options become more limited.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">As stated before, mesothelioma is most treatable when caught early so if you are aware that you have been exposed to asbestos at any point in your life, it is important that you let your doctor know so that you can be monitored for any asbestos related illnesses. </p>
<br />pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-61577559949915847132009-06-12T16:46:00.005-04:002009-06-12T18:46:00.383-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Eiy5lV03qz5yXz8_DOVS8dVf_C72A0UD5LLaCUZ_Deb9xIUwkMvpK5D_rQfCoE85eQXSno2xO2FRK63Z1lhj8uFfZBtlRm7zsCsRarDbgWZIUWXCXJhrez36ujF7DUKlOhViBPAOOBDE/s1600-h/dingo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 138px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Eiy5lV03qz5yXz8_DOVS8dVf_C72A0UD5LLaCUZ_Deb9xIUwkMvpK5D_rQfCoE85eQXSno2xO2FRK63Z1lhj8uFfZBtlRm7zsCsRarDbgWZIUWXCXJhrez36ujF7DUKlOhViBPAOOBDE/s200/dingo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346555307585089410" border="0" /></a><br />Dear Family and Friends,<br /><br />I hope that this update finds you healthy and happy.<br /><br />Shortly after my move to New Mexico, I was awarded a grant from The SAMFund, a scholarship fund for young cancer survivors. This grant paid my rent for six months, while I got on my feet in a new city. To date, The SAMFund has awarded a total of $400,000 to close to 200 individuals across the country.<br /><br />Here, you can find the link to the list of 2008 recipients: <a href="http://www.thesamfund.org/pages/recipients/2008/08-recip-patriciak.html">The SAMFund </a><br /><br />I know that during these financial times, we are <span style="font-style: italic;">all</span> thinking about money... but, I want to thank all of you that contributed to my fundraising efforts for breast cancer last year and/or my roommate Emily's efforts in support of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. While we often wonder where our money is going when we make a donation to cancer "research," I can attest to you that it is your donations that make scholarships and grants for cancer survivors possible. As a person who knows a lot about debt (ie: student loans), I have come to learn that medical debt is very real for the majority of us.<br /><br />Thanks again for all of your contributions.<br /><br />Hugs,<br />patty<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Personal update:</span> I have successfully completed my first year of my dual-master's degree track at the University of New Mexico in Latin American Studies and Community & Regional Planning (a 3-year plan). I am looking forward to my last follow up scan in July 2009. Afterwards, I will continue to have CT scans once every three years. After two trips home to be with family and friends, I plan to return to Buenos Aires for a conference relating to my thesis research on self-governance and alternative economies.</span>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-25694988896734651512009-01-31T16:49:00.002-05:002009-01-31T17:07:25.224-05:00Holiday Time is Scan Time<div><br /></div><div>On January 5th at 11:15 AM I had my second follow up scan. Me, Todd, and Mom made the trip into Boston to re-visit our favorite cancer center, Dana-Farber. It was a grey day and I felt extremely ill from a late night of partying until 5 AM the night before. </div><div><br /></div><div>We arrived and momentarily got lost on the PET scan floor. We needed to be in CT. Finally in the right place, I sit down with my two bottles of radioactive Crystal Light and Todd and I told Mom some funny stories about our trip to Canada. Drinking the radioactive juice wasn't as difficult as times past, considering how dehydrated I was. The major pitfall, aside from the metallic taste, is that they keep it too cold.</div><div><br /></div><div>I went in for my scan and I think it look less than 5 minutes. I'm so smart now. I never wear a bra and therefore, never have to undress. Just lay down, point to the right vein, wince, and close your eyes while your inside the spinning machine. The technician and I had some laughs and talked a little bit about New Mexico.</div><div><br /></div><div>Leaving the scan room, of course, Todd and Mom are nowhere to be found. Those sneaks. They are always moseying off to have lunch or get coffee without me! Because the sign in the waiting room specifically notes: "Please NO food or drink. Patients are fasting for exams." Fortunately for them, I found them rather quickly in the cafeteria. We decided to stay there for lunch since we had an appointment with Dr. Fisher at 2:30 PM and the two escapees had snagged a sweet booth. We had pizza for lunch. </div><div><br /></div><div>Dr. Fisher's waiting room is pretty much the worst part of the entire experience. You never know when they will call you. And then they call you and they just want to put your name on the list for blood work. Then you sit down and wait some more. Then they call you again. This time it's just to take your vital signs. Then they finally call you for blood work and you're exhausted and pissed off that you forgot to tell the CT technician to leave the IV in so that they wouldn't have to stick you again. I only had one vein that day, considering the drinking I had done the night before, so I told her to stick it. And it was good. Phew.</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally! ...we're brought to a room to wait for the Doc himself. He doesn't take too long and Todd and I hype him on Mont Tremblant, Quebec. It's fun. Then he tells me the scan is clear and that my neck looks like the neck of newborn baby. And we leave. And that's that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have another scan scheduled for June. After that I'll be able to go once a year instead of every six months. That will be nice in a way... though... scarier too. A year is a whole lot longer to wait while something deadly could be growing inside you.</div>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-85691308517274510622008-12-05T16:37:00.000-05:002008-12-05T16:38:11.633-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwHYkkEbAUBI8tygQtFMZrxAI-fmXXvC06f-MSOUkxftfidvfqr3tvCPULujRGFesfcZHaXMmHpL4E6sS6okH1GhZKTQePe5ZKgladi92gDKX25cChR6VgFmApUKyuDwJ3_evzwTejCQj/s1600-h/ATT00001.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwHYkkEbAUBI8tygQtFMZrxAI-fmXXvC06f-MSOUkxftfidvfqr3tvCPULujRGFesfcZHaXMmHpL4E6sS6okH1GhZKTQePe5ZKgladi92gDKX25cChR6VgFmApUKyuDwJ3_evzwTejCQj/s400/ATT00001.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276423506227466802" /></a>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-20448919347508587682008-08-19T20:33:00.002-04:002008-08-19T20:46:34.113-04:00Reflections from New Mexico:<div><br /></div><div>I was just speaking to a friend who mentioned the idea of changing this blog's name to "Patty Had Cancer." At first, this seemed like a good and natural idea, however, upon second thought I realized that I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">still do</span> have cancer. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have the memories that compile the experience of knowing that your body is acting against you. I have memories of friends tenderly acting like nothing has changed. I remember my family always by my side. I have feelings of triumph and success. I still have cancer, not anymore in a physical sense and not only in memories, but now as a part of my character. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I'm not ashamed of it. I'll just check it off the list of things to do in this life.</div>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-51111483651809786822008-05-28T15:18:00.022-04:002008-05-29T14:52:08.264-04:00<div align="left">Dear Donors, Supporters, & Cheerleaders,<br /><br />Thanks to everyone who helped Katie and I reach our goal of raising $3,600 and walking 39.1 miles in 2 days! Everyone helped in their own way. Some made donations, others supported us at our fundraising events, many offered their time and help, and others cheered us on at the end of the first day (mile 26!). It is because of all of you that this year’s Boston Avon Walk for Breast Cancer was a record breaking success. It was the largest Boston event to date with over 2,900 walkers raising $6.9 million dollars! The Avon Foundation made 7 initial grants at the closing ceremonies including: </div><div align="left"><br />· Massachusetts General Hospital, $800,000<br />· Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, $500,000<br />· Boston Medical Center, $300,000<br />· Various community programs that support early detection<br /><br />These important grants will support research into the potential role of genetic and environment interactions in breast cancer, a new mobile mammography vehicle with state-of-the-art equipment, as well as basic technology upgrades and community awareness and access programs. In addition, more grants will be awarded throughout the year!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Avon Walk for Breast Cancer 2008</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSKSku86a88i7wbUsBowjhGyWrl7wQZp3CgVJaVJ8bHqvKyV_kjsCsmSpNFOlIzi7-zxkzf6UUWPjxLekSlRl73giMfYDgcVA2cRIUWKbI9TUTsqTLyoykQx3Rb0143lbYI1rR7W5jyss/s1600-h/AvonWalk+001.jpg"><span style="color:#cc66cc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205511923219205362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSKSku86a88i7wbUsBowjhGyWrl7wQZp3CgVJaVJ8bHqvKyV_kjsCsmSpNFOlIzi7-zxkzf6UUWPjxLekSlRl73giMfYDgcVA2cRIUWKbI9TUTsqTLyoykQx3Rb0143lbYI1rR7W5jyss/s200/AvonWalk+001.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></strong></div><div align="left"><br />I kicked off the event by waking up at 4:45AM on Saturday, May 17th (probably the earliest I have ever woken up in my entire life!). I dressed myself in walking gear—a rainproof skirt and fresh New Balance sneakers—grabbed my coffee and met Katie at the front door. We stopped in Somerville to pick up Todd, the honorary chauffeur, and took off for UMASS Boston. It seemed like as soon as we finally unloaded our gear at 6:30AM, it started to rain. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">We ate a provided breakfast of bagels, bananas, and water provided by one of the event sponsors, FIJI (yum). The Opening Ceremony included inspiration speeches by cancer survivors and guided stretches. We began our journey around the circumference of Boston by 7:00AM. From UMASS we walked along Boston Harbor. Vans full of volunteers and crew members, decorated in pink bras, honked and cheered. Bikers from a Harley Club on their motorcycles stopped traffic for us as we crossed every single intersection. It felt amazing to be there with so many other people that the rain didn’t even matter. Then, some time before mile 5 a woman behind us spoke:<br /><br /></div><div align="left"><em>“Do you know that your ankle is bleeding?”</em> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Katie’s shoes were rubbing her the wrong way, so between rest stops we paused to bandage her foot with Neosporin and Duct Tape. The rain was letting up but we wondered if we were going to make it. <strong><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">At least blisters don’t need chemotherapy, we joked.</span> </span></strong></div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrXwvMGoHjkokfXjgYofbAw_fvpGjc_twdtcTj03c-ZZUDY_f7ty6XdS0uvvzEtM-fEbTuG54Ot207Gv2MJ90khyphenhyphenf-NnCofkQT8NoxiACO38up8vQH4AmrA6s8ieBERtZul8mjP0Pglym/s1600-h/AvonWalk+013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205513551011810594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrXwvMGoHjkokfXjgYofbAw_fvpGjc_twdtcTj03c-ZZUDY_f7ty6XdS0uvvzEtM-fEbTuG54Ot207Gv2MJ90khyphenhyphenf-NnCofkQT8NoxiACO38up8vQH4AmrA6s8ieBERtZul8mjP0Pglym/s400/AvonWalk+013.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">We passed The New England Aquarium, Quincy Market, and finally North Station and the Museum of Science. I couldn’t believe I had seen so much of the city before noon! The clouds cleared as walked along the Charles River and passed over Storrow Drive. We followed the river all the way to MIT and finally ate lunch at the Charles River Reservation at mile 9. We laid out some cardboard in the wet grass and devoured our bag lunches of turkey sandwiches, baby carrots, apples, and chips. Our legs were cramping up and we couldn’t afford to rest long. We changed our wet socks, stretched and got ready to hit the road. It must have been around 11:30 AM. </div><div align="center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205513941853834546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCz3-oGLyQ7feOSrhl9_iHSmX2eOlPcfFK_ICCjnPY99bd28PPt7Y_obDlZtMs_XNDHevj7zf1RyZ3v1E2s4-QsaSuWNiyCZV8umcJhivqVEPM5U0gXzGOmMIuLMNjqolMmYX_0lpGR6os/s320/AvonWalk+017.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Katie stretch-resting</span></em><br /></p><p>The sun came out in full force after lunch as we marched through Riverway Park into Brookline. We passed the halfway point. I took a huge sigh of relief that I didn’t have any blisters yet, and we applied sunscreen. I spoke to my Mom over the phone. I remember having a lot of energy and excitement.<br /><br />The park was so beautiful and it felt as though the sun had come out just for us. We made it into Jamaica Way and the park setting with all the green grass and trees felt wonderful after all the city walking we had done earlier that day.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205515406437682514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HySGNuoEI_nf-D7Bkun5vJcoU2q2L8nogXo3vYGSaGi6FGuJJ_IUuqUvPoY5g8HbkagIX-VdVGK4jN4T4ZKM7ai3eWythtpK8qh90TI8z6sJLdwXp3AosTXDzmhpa1sC7hosmI2QvR-K/s400/AvonWalk+020.jpg" border="0" /> </p><div align="left">We entered Dedham as the miles markers kept climbing higher and higher. There were no more sights to see or rivers to follow. Now it was the final trek to mile 26. There was no more time to stop and smell the roses or to take scenic or candid shots. Now we were truckin’ and it was hot.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205515977668332898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjOTI8Ph-ARJcI3DfGqy_JSDVmmVZkseZrHlJvFS11lfyGnSNP5TQEbldR-ZyCojpAUfXrsBJX0br9q8OLOw4FhJeZh_sqMXdegZ34elclk9bXEtw_c7WWb7K38OPlHZuQ0TJEYlRpN0c9/s400/AvonWalk+021.jpg" border="0" /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Half way!</span></em></div><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><div align="left"><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6igidG49DiKaaarcoHDghQ-h6dGar58kO6M3u5x2dqnBQ1f6BM3rgBmyIUbT91aK_kFcuYvP2nGXOL_VGSJNMhSylmNRbfjp1PBXoTpIEYAliy9Jo60Q9GDigO2nJPq8oCmgc5Ze7txSf/s1600-h/AvonWalk+022.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205516261136174450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6igidG49DiKaaarcoHDghQ-h6dGar58kO6M3u5x2dqnBQ1f6BM3rgBmyIUbT91aK_kFcuYvP2nGXOL_VGSJNMhSylmNRbfjp1PBXoTpIEYAliy9Jo60Q9GDigO2nJPq8oCmgc5Ze7txSf/s200/AvonWalk+022.jpg" border="0" /></a>We marched up the steep hill at the end at a steady pace. And finally reached mile 25! It felt amazing knowing that we were at the end—the final mile! As we proudly marched on, I got a phone call from my Dad and I told him we would be there in about 20 minutes. Mysteriously, mile 26 didn’t show up for quite some time and my body knew what a mile felt like at this point. Those last 385 yards (the .2 of a mile) were a huge morale killer. An hour later, around 4:30 PM, we arrived at Prowse Farm in Canton, MA to the cheers of my Mom, Dad, and Victoria. </div><br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">"NO PARKING. Reason: Cancer Walk"</span><br /></em><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205516832366824834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWhAwADD_ki5i_hY1TI12f97JCbvtjWhaClCoQNtcM_EYTVhhkhjDoLPni0Xr6gShMcI3Mcu2CwQ6KlHbm6Maa_9uovWgtpvW8FGjote1-7WsOYEkFDfQ1TM_963VjxkhmsuKkcWEHlTH/s400/AvonWalk+027.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Wellness Village, Prowse Farm, Canton, MA<br /></p></span></em><p><br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205517171669241234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidlFLTt1Ts0nRp6yaug7HgSxOS71zEEAF1ILXhHgxg9DNcnTIKypmrr_Swbv87l3NMVEApQv4UPwO6JhNHF6mYOJx34NVJOEr0uRTyRwLea7k92YPm7Y1UsU_q-M6vpgbnTxCLYVPWao7U/s400/AvonWalk+029.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Cheerleaders</em></span></p><p align="left">The Wellness Center was buzzing with booths from the event sponsors Reebok, Genentech BioOncology, Novartis Oncology and Prevention Magazine, and FIJI Water. There were yoga classes, the tent city, hot showers, entertainment, and of course DINNER!! Dad helped us find our backpacks and set up our tent which we probably never could have done ourselves. We had dinner and then we hit the medic tent. I scored some Ibuprofen 800 and Katie had her blistered feet taped up. My family left, taking our wet clothes and extra shoes, and we got ready to take showers in the amazing port-a-showers (which were actually awesome, although I guess any form of shower would have been awesome at that point). We were exhausted. Although we wanted to get into a yoga class we opted to have a second dinner and hit the hay around 8:30 PM. </p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205517798734466466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_P7M10quum5C5zVQplVAqRuC1PfdWLJSFtSCu_6rf8_jWsDezz0Mpy4MTmZiFLbh9qfUoV0GqFEogITVzRp7Qh_BH61CEaTi9JzOqYB3-1FFRulhzF1oAbAzvwDd6U5RLNpcuojGZTXP/s400/AvonWalk+030.jpg" border="0" /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">The view from our tent in Tent City (in the background you can see the shower trucks)</span></em></p><p>People began bustling around 5:30 AM and I didn’t want to move from my soft, warm sleeping bag. Finally, Katie started packing and I felt obligated to do the same. After, we grabbed some breakfast of scrambled eggs, home fries, and fruit. We begrudgingly packed up our tent with some much needed help, loaded our bags into a truck, and made our way to the starting point. 13.1 miles to go. </p><p></p><p>The route meandered variously through neighborhoods with large houses and huge trees, and through the downtown areas of suburban towns. There were signs in shop windows congratualting us. It felt amazing… until I started to limp. <em>“Are you OK? I have some Band Aids if you need them.”</em> Strangers kept trying to help me but I wasn’t limping because of a blister, I was limping because I had developed tendonitis in my right ankle and it felt like the bones in my foot were shattered. I thanked them all for their generosity and <span style="color:#cc66cc;"><strong>pimp-limped</strong></span> on. That’s what we were calling it now as Katie and I entered the final mile. I pathetically whined outloud feeling as though I might burst into tears. There were no more cheerleaders; all we had was each other and fellow walkers encouraged me by saying things like, <em>“That limp really becomes you.”</em> I had to make it—we had come so far!</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205518640548056498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ54T1j4YFzhLrMuBwUFC48fAtsDeH4C-18NpLT9bug7lknBynIpkC4hPlnIWPI6_Nf78rt3E01SyklnJI-Sanct3kWcklp57jmpLgIkmWijXld4c8CJhlCL1NvcTpyRePDCtKWU1YDBY6/s200/IMG_0985.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p>As soon as I saw the finish line I wanted to collapse. I just kept thinking about all the good that will come from ALL of the money that we raised! I hobbled across the finish line back at UMASS Boston in amazement at what we accomplished. </p><p></p><p></p><p>To greet us were hundreds of family members and friends cheering and hugging and taking our pictures. It was incredible. I couldn’t believe how far we had come. I couldn’t imagine that just yesterday we had stood here at the Opening Ceremonies in the pouring rain. We had under taken a pilgrimage and we had reached the Promised Land! And yet, I couldn’t sit down. I couldn’t believe it was over. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I sat in the shade and had a snack, watching more walkers pass through the pink arch and complete their journey.<br />Despite some blisters, sun poisoning, a trip to the Emergency Room Sunday night, and calling in to work “sick” on Monday, both Katie and I survived! We want to thank everyone for doing what they could to help make this miracle a reality. Remember that every 3 minutes someone is diagnosed with breast cancer. Hopefully the work that we all did to make the Boston Avon Walk a success will soon make it only every 30 minutes, or 3 days… or 3 years… or <span style="color:#cc66cc;"><strong>NOT EVER AGAIN!</strong> </span>Thank you for everything and take care of yourselves.<br /><br />Hugs,<br /><br />Patty</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205519057159884226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTzB05MtmiVBDKLvRwT4rO7zRjHBb_GU5-JdWHoOAPELdqfyyCg1QkW4SAt9-nyftAu_efmMIsFtyiG5IWVXwWAOd5Y5cnibofuISk0Fh7AjnlCBIPlsEslJ9xGuUQXbGEzh6JgMb5hwIH/s400/IMG_0987.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p></p>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-4611941619750848972008-04-11T13:10:00.002-04:002008-04-11T13:16:02.575-04:00It's been a month!!<br /><br />Since I last posted... woah, that's terrible. <br /><br />As you know, I've been extremely busy fundraising. And the fruits of my labor have paid off since I made my goal of $1800 in almost 6 weeks! <br /><br />I've only just started my training for the 39.1 mile walk in May. But so far so good. Yesterday I started with 40 minutes of yoga (which I LOVE) and then took off on a 5 mile journey around town. It took me about an hour to complete and was very senic. Today I took a quick 2.5 mile jaunt, but this time tried to speed up the pace a little bit. I am really enjoying seeing parts of town that I haven't seen since I was foot-traveling teenager. <br /><br />Since the weather is going to be so wet this weekend, I think that tomorrow I will stick to some yoga and try to get a 7 mile walk in on Sunday... if I'm not too tired/hungover from our fundraising keg party Saturday night.<br /><br />If and when the weather gets nice again, I would like to make some trips to Weir Hill and also Salisbury Beach. If anyone is interested, give me a call!pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-17594282450615781692008-03-19T14:42:00.006-04:002008-03-19T14:56:24.377-04:00<a href="http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR/Walk2008/Boston?pg=team&fr_id=1440&team_id=48667"><span style="color:#cc66cc;"><strong>If you love 70's Disco and/or Boobs</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"><strong>Click the vinyl to check out our team page!</strong></span><br /><br /><img height="225" src="http://www.gullbuy.com/images/boobs.jpg" width="225" /><span style="color:#000000;"><br /></span><span style="color:#000000;"></span></a>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-81020083948890055122008-03-03T14:31:00.009-05:002008-03-06T22:53:28.386-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFfOUbDQVJI6nrUCjQweua22IEfu9Af4uVt7spYyTujYDdDCa4msu-99t5s42p_4RH-qjiC8DoKYcFvYe9JplYU4_-rIDXmdrfGE1Zl7N8We_i68FVMS7hixRBGV41CS9nLyUch_ySmV1/s1600-h/violetribbonsmall.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174365678190110098" style="CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFfOUbDQVJI6nrUCjQweua22IEfu9Af4uVt7spYyTujYDdDCa4msu-99t5s42p_4RH-qjiC8DoKYcFvYe9JplYU4_-rIDXmdrfGE1Zl7N8We_i68FVMS7hixRBGV41CS9nLyUch_ySmV1/s200/violetribbonsmall.png" border="0" /></a>Violet is for Hodgkin's Lymphoma... But... Pink is for...<br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(204,102,204)">Avon Walk for Breast Cancer!! </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS3jZ0G3BYwGVLX89bOiPt3V3GFthu6o9L-giPs5L9OIM-POuvJlIqhq7l6uwCRZyQDMW3qMi0bIbVtIIBV5LxEcl6s256fR1Sx1MlwvSOZAVVhdyVDnN968KZEXWE5FsJ7a2-e2AOnZ-n/s1600-h/pink+ribbon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174365764089456034" style="CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS3jZ0G3BYwGVLX89bOiPt3V3GFthu6o9L-giPs5L9OIM-POuvJlIqhq7l6uwCRZyQDMW3qMi0bIbVtIIBV5LxEcl6s256fR1Sx1MlwvSOZAVVhdyVDnN968KZEXWE5FsJ7a2-e2AOnZ-n/s400/pink+ribbon.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As many of you may already know, or will soon know, I have made the decision to participate in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. It should be called the Avon Walk <em>Against</em> Breast Cancer... because I'm definately not walking to get it!<br /><br />As a participant, I have vowed to raise $1,800 and walk 39.1 miles in 2 days during 2 days in May!<br /><br />I decided to walk for 2 main reasons. Breast Cancer will affect 1 in 8 women in her lifetime. If I name 8 women close to me, there's no way I can bear to see any of them going through this traumatic illness. My second reason is that I want to give back to the very institutions that cared for me during my illness. Between 2003 and 2006 The Avon Foundation donated over $150 million to research, hospitals, and social services. It's good to know that the money raised in Boston, will stay in Boston.<br /><br />If you would like to make a donation to, or join me in, my cause or just see my "New Blog for a New Era" just click on the pretty pink pin up at the bottom of this post!!<br /><br />Mwah!<br /><br /><a href="http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR/Walk2008/Boston?px=3898169&pg=personal&fr_id=1440"><br /><img height="250" src="http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b324/duckdisinterest/pinup_vargas_1944_june.jpg" width="350" /><br /></a>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-75554365572988989842008-02-25T14:40:00.003-05:002008-02-25T15:03:20.620-05:00<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">My Final Surgery??</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCXi7KJppAIQVced6Mm-whp694Z3PlKoF2JxVZtqLYO2hK1njTzLGTrnCoChyEBPAzZw_NFgX_nSnCLrUcepBvLI2ZNE7J5uLvDlze7sllM9icDrFnYMdRFYRKuTAfDi7YKQ3WH-WcKE4m/s1600-h/IMG_0035.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCXi7KJppAIQVced6Mm-whp694Z3PlKoF2JxVZtqLYO2hK1njTzLGTrnCoChyEBPAzZw_NFgX_nSnCLrUcepBvLI2ZNE7J5uLvDlze7sllM9icDrFnYMdRFYRKuTAfDi7YKQ3WH-WcKE4m/s320/IMG_0035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171006841435248850" border="0" /></a>About 2 weeks ago, Todd and I returned home from an amazing trip to Sunday River. The next day, he called out of work and took me to Lawrence General to have my port-a-cath removed.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifHZa-7LJgEhCBoen4aTVPR6_0LC9JNpqQzUyy-qtUYtOpngu1APTM5tcD5AULOBL_VuXapbLnwDbTbu12ZrdKVARBCw5tWViotTw2Bj9aT38L_7ChIB4S6nLr9IPYTGNmpyc0_8dfZEgC/s1600-h/IMG_0039.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifHZa-7LJgEhCBoen4aTVPR6_0LC9JNpqQzUyy-qtUYtOpngu1APTM5tcD5AULOBL_VuXapbLnwDbTbu12ZrdKVARBCw5tWViotTw2Bj9aT38L_7ChIB4S6nLr9IPYTGNmpyc0_8dfZEgC/s320/IMG_0039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171006850025183458" border="0" /></a><br />I was excited and a tiny bit nervous. But Todd and I laughed a lot and joked with the nurses so it was fun. :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZl8jiNIbo_S6PWt5nPJHcPsJAZRFCwaf2a9Ng-9CJ_fvLMXYKodmNosyY_QkwOkT2AQJNJyE1rn7fElxfFeTOD6CruwcdT4l3adr5sLgJL1TVvPKcUxVOb21BD1Y-FhKRwlTXoiI9MPE/s1600-h/IMG_0043.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZl8jiNIbo_S6PWt5nPJHcPsJAZRFCwaf2a9Ng-9CJ_fvLMXYKodmNosyY_QkwOkT2AQJNJyE1rn7fElxfFeTOD6CruwcdT4l3adr5sLgJL1TVvPKcUxVOb21BD1Y-FhKRwlTXoiI9MPE/s320/IMG_0043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171006854320150770" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">While we were fooling around, Dr. Gemis came over and took our picture. He told me about how he was going to remove all of the scar tissue left from the insertion and sew me back together with a thinner line. That surprised me... but hey, whatever looks better.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmq1NPbrh7-ZhG3_Fn1iEVR2trdVaEb0stMmcYtbadVtmsb8PxnD7ObcOUTgh7syejM9UFbjnlGqHshj23ik7c4NXFsgt3mneyy-13wkWCJZGGNt2j78NsEE4Jf0Vrj9UD9LWKgH_hWjBz/s1600-h/IMG_0051.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmq1NPbrh7-ZhG3_Fn1iEVR2trdVaEb0stMmcYtbadVtmsb8PxnD7ObcOUTgh7syejM9UFbjnlGqHshj23ik7c4NXFsgt3mneyy-13wkWCJZGGNt2j78NsEE4Jf0Vrj9UD9LWKgH_hWjBz/s400/IMG_0051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171007365421259042" border="0" /></a><br />CUTE!!</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnzLzSRuH9P5EdkBgdULpfObxuify5EHlavWLBn8oRs1SkqOinVS5-c_6v0rOLOpngkvrHKu50lkWSqbJVeSl4WQL_jfJTsgYaZdJ5qfnAa8DoSIsVrKLepJli56-lrFFr0rq-gM3MtJv/s1600-h/IMG_0046.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnzLzSRuH9P5EdkBgdULpfObxuify5EHlavWLBn8oRs1SkqOinVS5-c_6v0rOLOpngkvrHKu50lkWSqbJVeSl4WQL_jfJTsgYaZdJ5qfnAa8DoSIsVrKLepJli56-lrFFr0rq-gM3MtJv/s320/IMG_0046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171006858615118082" border="0" /></a>This is a really good action shot of me getting my IV. Generally speaking, I HATE this part... but I specifically asked to have it put in my arm (because I know it hurts more in the hand). This way, because my veins have been poked so many times, I didn't even feel a thing. Which is kind of sad in a way... but good in another way.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnzLzSRuH9P5EdkBgdULpfObxuify5EHlavWLBn8oRs1SkqOinVS5-c_6v0rOLOpngkvrHKu50lkWSqbJVeSl4WQL_jfJTsgYaZdJ5qfnAa8DoSIsVrKLepJli56-lrFFr0rq-gM3MtJv/s1600-h/IMG_0046.JPG"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMDDfR40Jj7v-qkwy_j3zbeuyo3HdLWkOu584VJIZD2rnrr74HkZcF4j4SL27z-Z078DKxsL0X54yTlXTwqPIZoDYPw04QOGGNT9s93XtxRs8Ib13x0ZYTN7crGE5t28FX8_1m-myTyoM/s1600-h/IMG_0052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMDDfR40Jj7v-qkwy_j3zbeuyo3HdLWkOu584VJIZD2rnrr74HkZcF4j4SL27z-Z078DKxsL0X54yTlXTwqPIZoDYPw04QOGGNT9s93XtxRs8Ib13x0ZYTN7crGE5t28FX8_1m-myTyoM/s400/IMG_0052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171007369716226354" border="0" /></a><br />When I came out of surgery all they gave me was some delicious apple juice. I was starving. I hadn't eaten since 10:30 PM the night before. The nurse said she couldn't let me leave until my blood pressure went up. And yet, they weren't giving me anything to eat. So they gave me a second bag of fluids in my IV instead. And I wasn't happy.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Finally</span>, after begging and saying how hungry I was, the nurse let us go.<br />And I went home and took a vicadin and watched the Futurama movie!<br />The End.<br /></div><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">**Since then I have been watching my scar. It looks kind of weird. So I am going to see Dr. Gemis tomorrow to have him look at it... and maybe fix it. Because he definately didn't say anything about a weird nub.</span>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-19350477383954581092008-01-29T10:47:00.000-05:002008-01-29T11:17:01.560-05:00<span style="font-weight: bold;">I'm doing pretty good.<br /></span><br />I'm really busy and relatively healthy. Between 2 jobs, doctor's appointments and mini vacations... I barely know if I'm coming or going.<br /><br />I took a 10 hour/week position at Hostelling International (www.usahostels.org) as the Media and Development Assistant. It means I spend a lot of time calling rish people and asking for money... and doing research I don't think that they are ever going to use. Oh well. It's nice to have an office job for once. Although- it definately doesn't beat Northpoint!! Holla!<br /><br />I've been snowboarding quite a lot (more than I thought I would be) and it feels awesome! I'm trying to catch more air and be more daring... I mean, I did just beat cancer- what could be scarier? A little snow, a little speed, and my feet off the ground doesn't even come close. So far, I've been up to Waterville Valley and Loon... but my favorite has been Mount Snow, VT. Todd and I also have<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-o1lCAchCPNm7P9rwLcThMBzprAVqZI70wd31s4nJ-INO846boNfAb3sbUVM7I1gK_sVfXE6wIvoIdjQekQR8gITiCJsxJojyJl21z3JOjCFw0uVBWRtjI9Fky3miG29E_cWFtsOdxNm/s1600-h/snow+angels.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-o1lCAchCPNm7P9rwLcThMBzprAVqZI70wd31s4nJ-INO846boNfAb3sbUVM7I1gK_sVfXE6wIvoIdjQekQR8gITiCJsxJojyJl21z3JOjCFw0uVBWRtjI9Fky3miG29E_cWFtsOdxNm/s200/snow+angels.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160931585976637522" border="0" /></a> trips planned to Sunday River, Jay Peak, and Stratton.<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(this is me and Marielle @ Bradford)<br /></span></div><br />And of course-- FLORIDA!! We leave for Florida in less than 2 weeks. So... we're trying to pack, getting our bathing suits and sunscreen in order (which you can image is slightly precarious compared to snow gear for us!).<br /><br />I also joined the gym at work. I went 3 days last and it feels great. Instead of trying to bust my butt on some awkward cardio machine I've taken to the pool (and sometimes the hot tub!). The pool is small- but just big enough for me to make it across without drowning. I've never been a good swimmer. So, for about 20 minutes of back and forth I feel the burn... plus it's heated... so, besides snowboarding, I've definately found the perfect workout. So long as it doesn't turn my new hairdo green.<br /><br />Speaking of hairdo- it's cute. It's still super short but it's growing fast. It's showing some signs of curl which is making me nervous... because I don't feel like having the new afro for the cancer-cured white chick. But, what can you do, really? I guess I could always cut it.<br /><br />I have my pre-op appointment on Thursday for my surgery next Monday (after we get back from Sunday River). I've got to get this port-a-cath remoooved!! Finally will I feel a little more like this is all over! Which has also been a little difficult for me, not knowing what to do next.<br /><br />And yesterday I had the most awful feeling like it might come back. Like "cancer" was lurking over my shoulder waiting to get me... just when I was starting to feel like myself again.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-24458166773088491062008-01-15T12:49:00.001-05:002008-01-15T13:54:16.459-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60OZGeKSk5s-rze_GzGOZS2iT7EMp1qV-vGq8sl-jDJofdo8y2BX-xSi95vY0HmXPWGLol-bRS7aey8o1gSxYFPU7KDLodfudXJh96Esi8LsBj-JO3g1YASDfWPBX4mv8KnQB1vdN7WpJ/s1600-h/Scan+Your+ID.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60OZGeKSk5s-rze_GzGOZS2iT7EMp1qV-vGq8sl-jDJofdo8y2BX-xSi95vY0HmXPWGLol-bRS7aey8o1gSxYFPU7KDLodfudXJh96Esi8LsBj-JO3g1YASDfWPBX4mv8KnQB1vdN7WpJ/s320/Scan+Your+ID.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155762083307337794" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">An Entry in Images</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span><span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>This is where I scanned my ID card every day upon arrival. As you may be able to see, my machine, the </span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>second one down the list, is 30 minutes behind... but that's OK! It also lists which doctor's are </span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>on duty to see patients... 'cause you have to</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> visit with The Man at least</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> once a week.</span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span></span></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYemzkZccF7boJEXA5S1k_9daKcfC5CP52I7e2vJmWYanH3RCqakA24Yh8Sm2_xhEq6-OxfuYljYhab1yXBLVqWdQUtNbgOP80xGvt_Pgv-Re-iKUXo3WOJU_L-7WWX4YeHhPWxRoj-l0e/s1600-h/My+Nurse+Lynn.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYemzkZccF7boJEXA5S1k_9daKcfC5CP52I7e2vJmWYanH3RCqakA24Yh8Sm2_xhEq6-OxfuYljYhab1yXBLVqWdQUtNbgOP80xGvt_Pgv-Re-iKUXo3WOJU_L-7WWX4YeHhPWxRoj-l0e/s400/My+Nurse+Lynn.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155767907282991250" border="0" /></a></div> <span style="font-size:130%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>In the meantime, I'll just hang out with my cool nurse, Lynn. After a quick visit Lynn advises me that I have my port flushed. Whaaaat? It hasn't been accessed in over a month and in the off event they need to use it again... she has to flush it with saline. Fine, whatever, I have like an hour wait anyway. It takes Lynn 3 stabs before she gets it, but I didn't mind because she used a numbing solution first which was like first-class treatment as far as I'm concerned. She's really good... she even got a blood-return!</span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjixqkfQ7KDdKCbXPgriwwgailowdiiZfpRlIMfY6I_t0Gc19ViN2KK58Y8nLFXVfIwPUsUDWjq6uFimOGtSI4QO9j1XA16hD0snuxiH5cRgIrHnjxzXitPWqTURe_QEysw52A_fPIHGmKO/s1600-h/Johnny+Time%21.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjixqkfQ7KDdKCbXPgriwwgailowdiiZfpRlIMfY6I_t0Gc19ViN2KK58Y8nLFXVfIwPUsUDWjq6uFimOGtSI4QO9j1XA16hD0snuxiH5cRgIrHnjxzXitPWqTURe_QEysw52A_fPIHGmKO/s200/Johnny+Time%21.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155771940257282210" border="0" /></a><br />Then... it's Johnny time! Enter the changing closet and choose your weapon. Not much of a choice really... and would you know, I get the one with only one string every time!! If you're ever faced with this situation I suggest choosing the Johnny that looks most new. :) You'll look more shabby sheek... trust me.<br /><br />Before I know it I'm face to face with Machine 15!!<br /><br />Say hello...<br /> Don't be scared...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmBlwwlNk_bCS4sOVIsxsuXNetSRRtuQe6hFosy5efiSTuoesRAn4bF1CoRyCd_FDm3gg8JUryOX5iF_s6FhLulz0XgrgDkaFZvzZUfk3_ljEGUZ0N0-dqzdUFkuxqlKVFZZAfsWtBChIU/s1600-h/The+Machine.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmBlwwlNk_bCS4sOVIsxsuXNetSRRtuQe6hFosy5efiSTuoesRAn4bF1CoRyCd_FDm3gg8JUryOX5iF_s6FhLulz0XgrgDkaFZvzZUfk3_ljEGUZ0N0-dqzdUFkuxqlKVFZZAfsWtBChIU/s400/The+Machine.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155777704103393458" border="0" /></a><br />So... this is where it all takes place.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHOKEyivZtF0yJSwBt4Ex3TGg9uN70YZdbmlSVBuOlk3vSfujeiXaQxpjp0QV_MlDwPHl8jnScTPAEVJ1I5obT1Yp63ecyn1s5N60HC2XdfRFfkoF22d78FRw04ZeXVsDsXE6EjgUu2aR/s1600-h/Adorable!.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHOKEyivZtF0yJSwBt4Ex3TGg9uN70YZdbmlSVBuOlk3vSfujeiXaQxpjp0QV_MlDwPHl8jnScTPAEVJ1I5obT1Yp63ecyn1s5N60HC2XdfRFfkoF22d78FRw04ZeXVsDsXE6EjgUu2aR/s400/Adorable!.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155778155074959554" border="0" /></a><br />And this adorable Francis and Amy, the technicians that run Machine 15 every single day. I think Francis had one day off during my whole treatment. They're good folks. :) I made them cookies.<br /><br /><br />And so ends An Entry in Images.pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-79866036669912379902008-01-08T17:17:00.000-05:002008-01-08T18:04:21.498-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZAW8M8AmYdB6E1s-lZeUOeIjfhGD1wGVeT2zoZTzF6qedPW2Yb3xJWyVo4LKxsW4cdkp6J2eNLua29esVPmqHV7wYIK2ng38Zax1KFYsvfJmYR7Wjb6B_1bAiTd1u_cQ0LG2sIeAj5zzL/s1600-h/baby.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZAW8M8AmYdB6E1s-lZeUOeIjfhGD1wGVeT2zoZTzF6qedPW2Yb3xJWyVo4LKxsW4cdkp6J2eNLua29esVPmqHV7wYIK2ng38Zax1KFYsvfJmYR7Wjb6B_1bAiTd1u_cQ0LG2sIeAj5zzL/s320/baby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153235521550825522" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />January 7<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>, 2008<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">FINALLY... an update.</span><br /><br />Today is Monday-- and Wednesday is my last radiation treatment.<br /><br />I've sort of been tackling this portion of my treatment with a blind eye-- it's easier since it's less painful-- going to the hospital everyday like it's a simple errand. And it's so routine that it's easy to forget why I'm even there.<br /><br />I drive into the parking garage, spiral into the bowels of the cement edifice, walk 5 seconds over to the Brigham & Women's building, press L2 in the elevator, turn right and walk to the end of the hall, scan my ID card, change into a johnny, wait in the waiting room with other johnny-clad patients. I usually read a magazine... I'm all caught up on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Architect's</span> Digest, Audubon, Sport Diver, and Better Homes.<br /><br />Sometimes I wait for hours and sometimes not even a minute.<br /><br />When they call my name I enter the treatment room through a lead door and am greeted by my beautiful radiation technicians. Literally, they're all gorgeous. At first, my superficial assessment weirded me out, until I realized that it was their amazing personalities and extreme kindness that made laying under their machine that much less annoying, not their pretty looks.<br /><br /><br />So, I greet the technicians and lay down on the narrow, cold table. They undo my johnny, line up my tattoos with the lasers in the machine, pull my hips .5cm to the left, and then one of them says "Here we go, this looks perfect." They turn on the lights and leave me there with the sounds of Jimmy Buffet or smooth jazz and the beeping starts and I feel my esophagus melting. I try to close my eyes but I can't so I stare into the big, black eye of the machine.<br /><br />The technicians are sort of like a little clan of Oopmpa Loompas working for Wonka or a band of Christmas elves working with their little tools, doing all the ground work for the big guy... Dr. Mauch.<br /><br />When the beeping stops they come back in, raise the table up to the ceiling, and rotate the machine underneath me to get my cancer from behind. And they leave and I'm left alone with the machine again.<br /><br /><br />The beeping stops again and I tie up my johnny as they lower the table and we chit chat and say "See you tomorrow" and "Have a nice night." I pay the parking attendant anywhere from $2 to $8 bucks. Go home to Todd and we make dinner and watch movies and go to bed-- to do the whole thing over again.<br /><br />Wednesday is my last radiation treatment... but that doesn't mean I'm home free. I've already got the go-ahead from Dr. Fisher to have my port-a-cath removed which means another surgery. I also have a follow-up appointment with Fisher and Mauch on February 21st, the day after I return from my birthday-vacation-in-Florida.<br /><br />After that though, I guess I'll be done for the next couple of months... until...<br /><br />MY NEXT SCAN!!pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-45706095004970229232007-12-14T15:56:00.000-05:002007-12-14T18:39:27.384-05:00<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Joys of Radiation</span></span><br /><br />Over a week ago, I went to my "mapping appointment" at Brigham & Women's. I went alone. Considering all the research and weighing of options I had to do, mostly on my own... and the final decision, which I made on my own... I figured... why the hell not. Plus, it was easier not having to worry about anyone else.<br /><br />In an examination room, one of Dr. Mauch's (you'll see he's a very popular guy and gets many other people to do most of his work for him... which makes him slightly mysterious) residents goes over all of the many dangerous potential short and long term side effects of exposing your fragile body to radiation. While he's explaining all of this, most of which I already know, I think about backing out of the whole ordeal. Saying, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Thanks, but no thanks! Why would I want to do that to myself? You've got to be kidding.</span>" And then he says something I probably will never forget: <span style="font-weight: bold;">We are not worried about the potential for secondary cancers. We are concerned with curing the cancer you already have. </span> Which I am already cured of, thank you very much, with 2 clean scans under my belt. Now, he probably didn't mean it in the way that I took it... but I still didn't think it was a very good thing to say. Of course, he's a radiologist... so that's all he should care about... radiating my cancer... it's not as though he is my primary care physician who's job it is to care about me past, present, and future?<br /><br />And there's another reason added to list of why I don't like doctors very much.<br /><br />At this appointment I get to do one of my favorite things... wear a johnny. CRINGE! Worst invention ever.<br /><br />In my stylish hospital wear, I'm sent to another waiting room, the size of a handicapped bathroom. Literally. I'm sitting there alone... in my blue johnny with a black and white knit cap with a skull and crossbones... classy... when 2 other women walk and in and sit down. I think they must be Italian because they talk a lot. Or maybe they are just nervous... but they are gossiping at light speed. Which is good for me because it fills the air with something other than stale smells and my instinct screaming at me to run from these self-absorbed, maniacal, radiation-wielding geniuses!<br /><br />One of the ladies offers me a clementine... and sadly I decline.<br /><br />When they call me, I take my position laying on a hard table. They take a bunch of x-rays, line me up, move my hips, my shoulders, align my neck. There's beeping and hands pulling me this way and that. It was exciting. Just like getting ready to have my insides removed and replaced with robot parts- hey, why not?<br /><br />I might as well have been on an alien spaceship getting ready for a probe because then they tattooed me. I've always wanted to get a tattoo... and I'm pretty disappointed that I waited this long to get one. Now, my first tattoo is a geometric constellation of blue pin-prick sized dots on my chest. Unattractive and yet functional! They'll use these dots to line my body up with lasers inside the radiation machine... in other words, it's so that they don't miss.<br /><br />After the tattoos I think they probably take some more pictures and align them with images from my first scan when the mass in my chest was bigger than 9cms. Then I'm sent to a changing room to remove my johnny. Finally! I shed the faded, paper-thin robe and slip into something more... <span style="font-style: italic;">comfortable</span>. <br /><br />Then I'm given a tour of the facility by one of Dr. Mach's nurse practitioners and a student. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever see the man himself. The tour is short-lived. This is where you change into a johnny everyday (great), this is where you wait in your johnny to be called into the radiation room (great), and this is where you scan your id card (johnny optional) and this is the nurses station in case you have any questions during your visit. Do you have any questions?<br /><br />We all go into yet another examination room where the nurse practitioner in her pretty purple glasses that almost look like goggles (or a splatter shield) tells me all about what to expect on a daily basis. Siiiigh. I keep forgetting what I've gotten myself into. Good thing there's always some nurse or resident or secretary to remind me! The nurse gives me a packet full of information and phone numbers in case of this... or that... or the other thing. And then she gives me a bunch of lotions and oral rinses... which I am totally stoked about taking home with me. NO. This is for if you develop a burn on your skin from the radiation... swallow this 4 times a day if you start to get a sore throat because the radiation is damaging your esophagus... and call us if you're experiencing anything abnormal that we haven't discussed today.<br /><br />This is all very frustrating since this treatment is supposed to helping... and so far, that's not the gist I'm getting today.<br /><br /><br />The she leaves and I wait at least a half hour before Dr. Mauch himself graces me with his presence. He doesn't have much to say except "Don't worry" and "Everything looks in order" and "We'll proceed next week" and "You'll have 17 treatments" and "See you next week."<br /><br />Yea. I guess. See you next week.pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-2539525584459752702007-12-07T14:37:00.000-05:002007-12-07T14:56:16.138-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr5xuIC6J0gLf2ivwQg8VbZboCE_DdDnDjy_lghytuGR1CKyfZD8Asujjletucm4fGf7sJ9Y_vAqIWz-Q5fWuY4eV-S66VYWqAqAeY1wz9Wb2peSVjwqam5gX2LDP8IISDvjwlUAcyL42/s1600-h/photo(3).jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr5xuIC6J0gLf2ivwQg8VbZboCE_DdDnDjy_lghytuGR1CKyfZD8Asujjletucm4fGf7sJ9Y_vAqIWz-Q5fWuY4eV-S66VYWqAqAeY1wz9Wb2peSVjwqam5gX2LDP8IISDvjwlUAcyL42/s400/photo(3).jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141317981070806674" border="0" /></a><br />Scan No. 3<br /><br />The day of waiting... and waiting...<br /><br />This day, Todd, mom, and myself drove to Brigham and Women's Hospital for my third scan. What we didn't know then was that Dana-Farber is much more efficient at scanning than Brigham and Women's. Well, we know now.<br /><br />I was taken into the back around 1220pm... my appointment was at 11am. Then, instead of getting a sweet room with a TV in it to wait to become radioactive... they put me in a room/hallway in a stiff recliner, inject me, and tell me they'll be back in an hour. Torture. I stared at the wall in front of me and tried to overhear the patient in the next room. How old was he? What type of cancer did he have? I never found out... but he had a good sense of humor... which basically comes with the territory so it wasn't anything new.<br /><br /><br />I'm going to be late for my 230pm appointment with Dr. Fisher. That means more waiting. Great. The scan goes by pretty quickly... it's much less tortuous now that I kee<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1x_DQxdt_c99W6FNFe2k4eC1G2zzup_393aCDVey1hFMZF-qPxccNIJ_FIR0OlfZYZUR4T5Hz_UCFbujeo-xoZpytNRqt-7XV1zBWY3G4HqAUQJsm31yRbS00oLh1Ww4l11HskgjDQ7Fs/s1600-h/photo(2).jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1x_DQxdt_c99W6FNFe2k4eC1G2zzup_393aCDVey1hFMZF-qPxccNIJ_FIR0OlfZYZUR4T5Hz_UCFbujeo-xoZpytNRqt-7XV1zBWY3G4HqAUQJsm31yRbS00oLh1Ww4l11HskgjDQ7Fs/s320/photo(2).jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141320403432361650" border="0" /></a>p my arms down to prevent them from falling asleep. When I get out of the scan I find mom and Todd in the waiting room with guilty looks on their faces. In case you forget, before a scan I cannot eat for 6 hours. Well, my little escorts that day decided they couldn't wait any more and went out to lunch while I lay inside a cold metal scanning machine.<br /><br />So I'm starving. We walk over to Dana-Farber to meet with Dr. Fisher. We wait some more here. I don't know what time I was finally called. When the nurse takes my vitals, my blood pressure was so low that she had to feed me a plan, dry, turkey sandwich on white bread.<br /><br />When we see Dr. Fisher he doesn't have much to say. He can't view my scan because it's not on the medical server yet but he assumes it's clean just like the last one. Despite my reservations about radiation, Dr. Fisher insists that if I opt out of it, that I will need 4 more cycles of chemotherapy (that's 8 treatments!). Great. So basically, I'm shittouttah... options.<br /><br />We drop Todd off at his pad in Somerville and I cry because I'm so pissed off... about everything.pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-3096805369722235142007-11-16T13:54:00.000-05:002007-11-16T14:51:33.779-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNYgd5C1tkxITG-3pP1A4JaoMdANZ_ZRniiXO8XQ9_mNVnj-K-rcyxgdChvx1CnxFW0CUIC_Zd7rxpjrAkUyHPC4X53_suVGWgoEydnM5vgUwGHEN1Iciu94NbHRPpIeIJqqctRyl0hyphenhyphenz/s1600-h/Treatment+8.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133522519132337394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNYgd5C1tkxITG-3pP1A4JaoMdANZ_ZRniiXO8XQ9_mNVnj-K-rcyxgdChvx1CnxFW0CUIC_Zd7rxpjrAkUyHPC4X53_suVGWgoEydnM5vgUwGHEN1Iciu94NbHRPpIeIJqqctRyl0hyphenhyphenz/s200/Treatment+8.jpg" border="0" /></a> Treatment No. 8<br /><br /><br /><div><strong>My Doctors are Fighting</strong></div><br /><div>I wake up in Boston around 745am and get my butt into gear for my last treatment. I find a parking ticket on the Lesabre (apparently you aren't supposed to park within 20ft of an intersection). I'm off to Lawrence General!</div><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>(This is a picture of me and my Chemo-Graduation Bear!)</em> </span><br /><br /><div>I get home about 845am and have some toast. I also take my antibiotics that I was prescribed for biting my own cheek over a week ago. Duh. Dad and I sort of putt around the house in no big hurry... but finally, it's time to go. </div><div><br /> </div><div>We get to the hospital and end up waiting an hour and a half to talk to Dr. Sanz. He was back in Spain (with his wife and family) for the last 2 weeks so all of his patients are anxious to see him. I am anxious to get in and out of the chemo-lounge as quickly as possible. </div><div><br /> </div><div>Dr. Sanz expresses that, if I have one more clean scan, that he would rather not see me have radiation. I told him that Dr. Fisher from Dana-Farber wants me to have radiation. Dr. Sanz says that he will call Dr. Fisher to get his opinion. I also tell him that I met with the radiologist Dr. Mauch and Dr. Sanz says that they call that the "Banana/Chimp" affect. So, my doctor's are fighting. And I don't really care... I'd just rather be done with the whole entire cancer thing.</div><br /><div>Finally, I get to the chemo-lounge where Ed, a chemo friend of mine, informs me that today is his last day as well. Hooray! I mean, it's weird. We see each other every other week, we chat, we take drugs, we see each other getting stabbed by the nurses, we see each other have adverse reactions to drugs... we see the good, the bad, and the ugly... and now we may never see each other ever again.<br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133519160467911906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW3kmj09kvfS5KIrM8azRfNb7FoxJQZTcOCKiSLq106z4S8lO8mDRDc2slVUhXJEWfG1N71gAYKZcr9w0dIMfZdjzKZiozDOXGwobCwwQVu8gnQ_AgmfLjBN6OkaN60MumgwX8y4kfqzEc/s400/Treatment+8+003.jpg" border="0" /><br />When I get home from my treatment, I sleep... pretty much the rest of the day. I had to cancel plans with Emily because I was just so tired and groggy. When I woke up there was the wine poster I had tried to get from Mcaloons Liquors that Auntie Paula had left as a surprise for me! Cool! I have a piece of pizza with gingerale as a snack. And then Auntie Kellie comes over with dinner! Delicious! I am sitting on the couch alone watching Kid Nation when the doorbell rings.</div><div></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133527763287405842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMIO0HxT8CTsDfMyOnQHs1I5tPL1WlfGH-cbFtXNacCpZgDj3ZkHiD3esrTzfCYZObImn0QjiiJZdb19YrbvCbxJgiIZ4YdvlExlUyC9_ZV0vLd84vFmW36Cfu5I4FslZvxhgyemrMgpZ_/s320/flowers.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><p>Surprise! Todd with flowers! He walked to my house all the way from the Lawrence train station! I was so excited to see him! I had wanted to make my last treatment special... but I didn't really know what to do... since I never have enough energy to actually do anything. It was perfect. We watched the rest of Kid Nation and Kitchen Nightmares, had ice cream, and then Todd tucked me in. The perfect ending.</p><br /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p></p>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-20274809154934369632007-10-31T13:08:00.000-04:002007-11-02T14:24:13.538-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U_9HT_BliSdVwjlug4N9wLmjDsXoZW1fJfZ3Qr6tp0Et_6RV8T467Ynq1wzfOoDoRYrEutAQJ1yfQRC8rcwmMht2SppKmIGHcOHy-ELRKIBI6aj6FWhK_v3lOgtLc2kMXlEoDcCzAO-g/s1600-h/Dr+Sanch+and+Nurse.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128290481014455250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U_9HT_BliSdVwjlug4N9wLmjDsXoZW1fJfZ3Qr6tp0Et_6RV8T467Ynq1wzfOoDoRYrEutAQJ1yfQRC8rcwmMht2SppKmIGHcOHy-ELRKIBI6aj6FWhK_v3lOgtLc2kMXlEoDcCzAO-g/s320/Dr+Sanch+and+Nurse.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />HALLOWEEN!! and treatment No. 7<br /><br /><br /><br />Monday was the beginning of my busy busy week. I went for my MUGA Scan. It was pretty sketchy. Lawrence General Hospital is probably one of the freakiest places I have ever been. It has nothing to do with the people who work there or who are treated there... it has everything to do with the ancient architecture, the outdated decorations, the scarey elevators, and the overall lack of space! You especially notice this when you enter Nuclear Medecine, a narrow hallway hidden behind the Laboratory. Nuclear Medecine is where they do all types of scans. At the end of the hall there are three rooms full of machines AND IN the hallway are patients in wheelchairs and hospital beds waiting for their turn at a scan. And there I am, sitting in one of those weird arm chairs they use for taking blood waiting for my nuclear injection. It's downright freaky! <br /><br />It wasn't the best experience. Although the technician did get a vein on the first try... no blood would come out. I had been so dehydrated over the weekend... that it was literally like taking blood from a stone. It took at least 5 minutes for her to get enough blood into the vile. It was disgusting.<br /><br /><br /><br />Monday night was much better. Todd spun at the Enormous Room in Cambridge. His annual amazing <a href="http://www.carbonpictures.com/djrndm/">Halloween Mashacre </a>featured hits like The Monster Mash, Enter Sandman, and of course Thriller. Despite having to carry a ton of equipment in my nurse costume and heels... it was super fun!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128296249155533794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUWAviAtpbohKNagX2P6JrfNFgu_kPqomB7b5NZEIFx4y53kgjuYwiJBHxhu2Ot5ysPSZ63WaotSZnVbV71Tb825k-tUTem1F_mnebfGlI_60ENcXYU-UGKXouN7tursCULwvV53UFDQe/s320/Zombie+Scare.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Tuesday I took the subway into downtown Boston for my acupuncture appointment, which was interesting considering the massive amounts of people going to the Red Sox parade!! The acupuncturist, Mihn, was extremely nice and thorough in her questions about my many ailments (namely: my right shoulder, my inability to sleep properly at night, cold hands, and my bad mood).<br /><br /><br />I laid down on the table. Mihn put two heat lamps on. She stuck three needles in my stomach and wiggled them around. Ow, a little. Then she put one needle in each of my elbows, wrists, knees, feet, ears, and one between my eyes. She left me with some classical music in the room for about 15 minutes. When she came back, she took out the needles and I turned onto my back. She found where my shoulder was hurting and stuck 7-10 needles around the area. She also stuck more needles down my spine. I stayed there for another 15 minutes with the heat lamps on. It felt sooo relaxing.<br /><br /><br />I can tell you right now, that my shoulder doesn't hurt anymore. Although she did reccomend that I have an upper body massage to rejuvenate my shoulder muscles (which I will seriously consider). And I definately feel an improvement in my circulation. She said that I should continue with the acupuncture every other week in combination with light massage. Cool!<br /><br />On Wednesday, which also happened to be Halloween, I had my second to last treatment. It was slightly depressing to have to go to the hospital on such a festive day. I certainly didn't feel like a kid anymore. I debated wearing parts of my nurse costume to be funny but in the end decided that I didn't want to offend anyone or feel weird. Boring.<br /><br /><br />Auntie Kellie came over. We had to stop at CVS to pick up a camera. At the hospital, we checked in and the nurses accessed my port-a-cath immediately. No blood return. Manny did a finger prick and passed 5 minutes squeezing blood from my right middle finger. Gross. After that I spent 15 minutes waiting for Gloria the nurse practitioner in an examination room while poor Auntie Kellie sat in the chemo-lounge! Gloria didn't have much to say... blood counts good... minimal side effects... I'm just tired... do I need any prescriptions?... yadda yadda. "Oh, you are due for a Lupron shot." "I was thinking, since I only have one more treatment left, maybe we could skip it?" "No, I think you can get it today after your treatment."<br /><br /><br />In case you don't know, Lupron is the milky white shot they give me in my backside, that supposedly puts my ovaries to sleep. It kills. I guess it was a TRICK for me this Halloween.<br /><br /><br />The treatment goes by pretty quickly, despite how extremely inpatient I am... it can't be over quicker. We watched Rachael Ray, who was dressed like a flight attendant for Halloween. Cute! I tell Auntie Kellie about how I can taste the Benadryl when they inject it into my port-a-cath and how gross it is. Yummy.<br /><br /><br />Finally, it's over and Kay takes me into an examination room for my injection. Ugh. I bend over and since it hurt so much last time we decide to try the other cheek. OW!!! I scream outloud and I'm bleeding. Booooo.<br /><br /><br />I sleep the rest of the afternoon. Victoria goes trick-or-treating. Kitchen Nightmares is a repeat. What a day.<br /><br /><br />One more to go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-19484991926631768632007-10-25T14:29:00.001-04:002007-10-25T16:17:41.901-04:00Next week... looks like a lot!!<br /><br />On Monday, I have another Muga Scan-- where they take my blood, mix it with dye, inject it back into me, and take pictures of my heart. These pictures will determine how much damage the Adriamycin (the drug that makes you lose your hair) has done to my heart. Probably not that much, but we must be sure. How exciting... and on Wednesday I have treatment.<br /><br />But on Tuesday, I am going to try some alternative medecine! Since I can't seem to get enough of those wonderful NEEDLES... I am going to get some acupuncture!! Sweeeet! I have heard great things about acupuncture for cancer patients.<br /><br />Acupuncture can re-energize the immune system!! It can also reduce anxiety and stress. Sounds perfect! The reason that the application of needles to certain parts of the body called acupoints (there are 2,000 on the body!) can help heal ailments is because the needles stimulate nerve cells, the pituitary gland, and parts of the brain. In response, the body releases proteins, hormones and brain chemicals that may otherwise be suppressed. This can postively affect blood pressure, body temperature, and the immune system.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125371045714475922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiczNUvCPrPj7krhARcQ54T2iMQeG0TD5NYNr3lrJ-cONGBy7tz1pZDtE0HsrhVT-hiv7zlJmXVkM72dWLpMT5CtJwr9ymcEnFSQd5Fr1u_Jv15e2D4X3Ly_jhvIM3ssAtAFwouOw06NV2z/s200/acupuncture-1.jpg" border="0" />Acupuncture is based on the belief <span style="color:#000000;">that </span><span style="color:#000000;">qi</span><span style="color:#000000;"> (vital energy) flows through the body along a network of paths, called </span><span style="color:#000000;">meridians</span><span style="color:#000000;">. Qi is said to affect a person’s </span><span style="color:#000000;">spiritual</span><span style="color:#000000;">,</span> emotional, mental, and physical condition. The FDA approved acupuncture needles for use by licensed practitioners in 1996.<br /><br />Even better-- my insurance covers it!<br /><br />I won't lie. I am a little nervous. But I will try anything once!! Especially if it's good for me!<br /><br />For more information visit: <a href="http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/pdq/cam/acupuncture/Patient/page2">The National Cancer Institute Website</a>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-25588282535720019422007-10-18T14:02:00.000-04:002007-10-23T12:47:47.376-04:00Treatment No. 6<br /><div></div><br /><div>I woke up late. It seems as though they make my appointments earlier and earlier each time. Oh well. I have toast with jelly for breakfast. Auntie Mary arrives and me, mom, and Mary head off to the hospital.</div><br /><div></div><div>Patricia accesses my port-a-cath. No blood return. Darn. Manny does my blood work. And I see Gloria, the nurse practicioner. Mom and Mary stay in the waiting room since the lounge is crowded.</div><br /><div></div><div>In the chemo-lounge, Kathy tells me that she is going to use a vein instead of my port-a-cath, just to be on the safe side. Whatever. She stabs me a total of 3 times. Plus the needle still inside my port-a-cath, plus the stab wound from Manny... that's 5. And I'm all bruised.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelUfv5kxgIJjZUJCmngvWAFAgvXuvmrD3r9UOLKwWfMrCLnESU7M4RbIMdqGEOReCRSNxm_bWVrny_AApSYraHztuWl2uLJ6QwtSolSM2dwvRHf7S7ohKGZG2k_0bRawDHAbtxObSKqVr/s1600-h/Treatment+6+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122744030529336994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelUfv5kxgIJjZUJCmngvWAFAgvXuvmrD3r9UOLKwWfMrCLnESU7M4RbIMdqGEOReCRSNxm_bWVrny_AApSYraHztuWl2uLJ6QwtSolSM2dwvRHf7S7ohKGZG2k_0bRawDHAbtxObSKqVr/s320/Treatment+6+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div>Kathy pumps me full of drugs and I just sort of stare off into space. Some Presidential Address is on TV but I can't comprehend it, and trying to only makes me nauseas. I avoid looking at the dripping IV bag by rotating my gaze from patient to patient around the room. Boring. Then, Dr. Sanz comes in with a young woman and I hear him tell the nurses that she has Hodgkin's. I wanted to talk to her but I also didn't want to scare her. I remember wanting to talk to everyone on my first day and being discouraged by all the old, sleeping faces. But still, I couldn't bring myself to butt into her business.</div><br /><div></div><div>After my treatment, which went by surpisingly fast, I was sent to have a flow-study done on my port-a-cath to put the nurses at ease. Mary, mom, and I went here and there all over the hospital trying to find where I was supposed to go. Finally, I admit myself and head into the "Short-Stay Unit," put a johnny on and get into a stretcher. Sweet. From here, they wheel me somewhere far far away into an elevator onto the X-ray floor and into a narrow hallway. A nurse introduces herself and I explain what's been going on with the stupid port-a-cath. Then the doctor comes out in a Patagonia fleece vest and I re-explain to him and he says that he really likes my hat and "Are you a boarder?" And so the entire time he is injecting dye into my port-a-cath and watching it flow on the monitor we talk about mountains in Vermont and New Hampshire and Argentina and Chile and France. It was sweet. And my port-a-cath is fine.</div><br /><div></div><div>So I'm wheeled back down in the elevator and someone brings me some cold apple juice. And I just want to fall asleep behind the privacy curtain in my stretcher all alone and sterile and chemo-ed-out. But Mom comes in and I get dressed and we have to go.</div><br /><div></div><div>See ya, hospital. Outside we have to take our picture so while we are posing Sue Patanaude says hello. Hello!</div><br /><div></div><div>Finally we get home and I sleep from 1-5 or 6 I can't even remember. And I eat delicious Shepard's Pie that Auntie Kellie brought over. Watch some TV. Help Victoria study. And it's back to bed.</div><br /><div></div><div>Another treatment down and 2 more to go. </div>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-38267667034742463592007-10-11T14:02:00.000-04:002007-10-11T14:56:03.150-04:00Thinking more about radiation...<br /><br />First of all, did you know that chemotherapy can also cause <a href="http://www.ufscc.ufl.edu/Patient/content.aspx?section=ufscc&id=23144">secondary malignancies</a>? No one told me that. But I guess I didn't really have a choice. I still would have liked to know.<br /><br />For Hodgkin's patients, the most common secondary cancers in order of prevalence are: Breast, Thyroid, Bone, Colorectal, Lung, Stomach.<br /><br />Breast cancer is the most common cancer among women, and the second leading cause of cancer deaths in women (after lung cancer). So, I'm interested in finding out how radiation will affect my chances of getting breast cancer.<br /><br />A normal woman's risk of contracting breast cancer increases with her age. By age 30 a woman has a 1 in 129 chance of getting breast cancer. By age 40, 1 out of 68 and by age 50, 1 in 37 women will have breast cancer (<a href="http://www.imaginis.com/breasthealth/statistics.asp">stats found here</a>).<br /><br />However, the older you are, the less aggressive the cancer usually is... so you have a higher survival rate (younger than 45 = 81%; 45-64 = 85%; 65+ = 86%). Which is good, if you plan on having breast cancer.<br /><br />As a group, Hodgkin's patients of all ages who received any type of treatment were at a fourfold increased risk for breast cancer, compared with general population rates. Hodgkin's patients treated with radiation at ages 24-29 were at seven times the risk (found through a study of 900 female Hodgkin's patients treated between 1961-1990). <strong>SEVEN TIMES THE RISK.</strong> uuuggh.<br /><br />The problem is putting faith in our medical technology. How far have we come in the field of radiation since 1990? Dr. Mauch told me to cut the figures in half to find today's secondary cancer rate... but do I believe him? Where's his proof?pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-2360093979452765552007-10-10T11:18:00.001-04:002007-10-12T11:17:58.177-04:00<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9EAvNaYhnXRMGsp4c2O6-tdMsmZQ85eMklWc9ejFc4fp-2R6CyzGHazhsJ4ftE1OI51qOYwrzR9MLVrplEyoLsJ8vWwTk_Eha5QiclE3pltSRfDQbji2C1p9qR4C5iKlM4jrq8lb55Ras/s1600-h/chemo+5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119727786666505810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9EAvNaYhnXRMGsp4c2O6-tdMsmZQ85eMklWc9ejFc4fp-2R6CyzGHazhsJ4ftE1OI51qOYwrzR9MLVrplEyoLsJ8vWwTk_Eha5QiclE3pltSRfDQbji2C1p9qR4C5iKlM4jrq8lb55Ras/s400/chemo+5.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Treatment No. 5<br /><br /><br /><p>The day before treatment I went to a 630pm yoga class. Todd arrived at my house around 745-8pm. We watched <strong>Night at the Museum</strong> and then we went to bed. It's always early to rise on treatment day!!</p><br /><p>We woke up bright and early and had a little Dunkin Donut breakfast. I had a small cappucino and an old fashioned donute, Todd had a breakfast sandwich. It was yummy. Then it was off to the hospital.</p><br /><p>Todd and I spoke with Dr. Sanz. He asked to see my bald head. And we chatted about my last scan. In his opinion, he'd rather see me skip radiation. It's nice to have another perspective but it also makes it a harder decision.</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOw0S0d5ine3QfY3btQlcGEMLLaO19PGuOjYuCXs9L55fJDnokNp7X1KHXb7Lh9mT2KIaoMDK9MkbbpN3fuZrT0OshyOIZJrsMJmWE-QNlSVYhhextfUq9JgfdNr52aKssQqG6tPWNPfG/s1600-h/Treatment+5+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120469591943034498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOw0S0d5ine3QfY3btQlcGEMLLaO19PGuOjYuCXs9L55fJDnokNp7X1KHXb7Lh9mT2KIaoMDK9MkbbpN3fuZrT0OshyOIZJrsMJmWE-QNlSVYhhextfUq9JgfdNr52aKssQqG6tPWNPfG/s200/Treatment+5+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p>I went into the chemo lounge where Kay tapped into my port-a-cath and got a blood return! Hooray! And so the treatment began. Before I was injected with any chemicals, I asked the nurse if she could push the Benadryl more slowly so that I wouldn't get so dizzy. Instead, she asked me if I would like to decrease my Benadryl altogether! Sure! It made for a much easier experience since I wasn't so dizzy and could carry on conversation a little more easily.</p>Dr. Sanz came in to give me a copy of the radiologists report of my second scan. It reads: "<em>Currently, there is no evidence of FDG-avid disease</em>." That means: THERE IS NO MORE CANCER.<br /><br /><br /><p>About half way through my treatment one of the other patients that I share the chemo lounge with every-other Wednesday began having an allergic reaction to one of the drugs he was receiving. All the nurses rushed into the lounge, got him an oxygen tank, Dr. Sanz ran in with his nurse practicioner, Gloria. They put up a partition so we couldn't see what was going on. It was scarey. Eventually, Ed came back to Earth. They stopped his IV and started him on just saline. They took down the partition. </p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinH5iROzHNzHiyg0a1cZfndEZcMvKFqvcFqI0WbsvpwHd70Kwbf2-ueY13nq4eLOUuvre1JwiGitVesv4tJw6bVoLFjN3E0rRLHKRcodqE6q1jncRcfO6V6Dw9UPgXiFxc9w2fzkkyCshr/s1600-h/sleepy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119737660796319330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinH5iROzHNzHiyg0a1cZfndEZcMvKFqvcFqI0WbsvpwHd70Kwbf2-ueY13nq4eLOUuvre1JwiGitVesv4tJw6bVoLFjN3E0rRLHKRcodqE6q1jncRcfO6V6Dw9UPgXiFxc9w2fzkkyCshr/s200/sleepy.jpg" border="0" /></a>We got home around 12pm and I took a nap. When I woke up Todd made me peanut butter toast. It was a pretty lazy day. We watched <strong>Blood Diamond</strong>. Auntie Nancy brought over dinner and we ate with my parents. </p><br /><p>Todd had to leave around 8pm. I watched <strong>Kitchen Nightmares</strong> with Dad, Billy, and Victoria. And went to bed.</p><br /><p>And so ends another chemotherapy treatment.</p></div>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8949708208649362973.post-89336618398980648562007-10-01T14:17:00.001-04:002007-10-10T11:17:45.871-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2lbJ9W4xn_hjz22xRBwJkVqNld6M4QmT7eMiefVErwrSuuxNxEvWtjBRptkRuBQtD416i6kn4yIPrPNx5AfJX4z6D5BS6zFT8fWvTFdpBdjEZI464YFeWNnpcTPnrmyywR1v9rDMG0nX/s1600-h/waiting+for+Mauch.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119727524673500738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2lbJ9W4xn_hjz22xRBwJkVqNld6M4QmT7eMiefVErwrSuuxNxEvWtjBRptkRuBQtD416i6kn4yIPrPNx5AfJX4z6D5BS6zFT8fWvTFdpBdjEZI464YFeWNnpcTPnrmyywR1v9rDMG0nX/s400/waiting+for+Mauch.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Scan No. 2<br /><br />A looong Day in Boston...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">My Dad and I left the house around 9:30am for a scan appointment at Dana-Farber for 11am. Plenty of time for a 30 mile drive. That's what you would think... except we hit practically stopped traffic right around the I-95 exits on 93. I was calm, thinking that it would lighten up after we passed 95... but it didn't. I planned on calling radiology to let them know I might be late. We crawled all the way to Storrow Drive. Unfortunately for us, this unusually late-in-the-day morning-commute traffic would set the pace for the rest of the day.</div><br />We got lost. Although I have been to the Dana-Farber building before, for my first of many scans to come, nothing is ever as you remember it in Boston. Of course, the first of a few imperative side-streets that we needed to take, Jimmy Fund Way, was closed. Luckily, Dad's eyes aren't as bad as you might think, and he spotted the DETOUR sign hidden behind some landscaped-city-foliage that would lead us to the parking garage.<br /><br />Ahh, the parking garage. We made it! Not quite. We circled into the bowels of the cement basement. Around and around practically skimming the suspended cieling pipes we drove, down, down, down. There wasn't a single spot. As we started to panic a crew of parking garage gurus flagged us down and created us our own temporary parking spot of orange cones. We jumped out and ran to the elevators.<br /><br />After stopping at a few different receptionist desks that all looked the same I finally checked in where I was supposed to be... 10 mintes after 11. I was called after about 15 minutes. I left Dad on a couch in the waiting area with his WantAd magazine.<br /><br />In the room, behind the lead door, the nurse explained the procedure. She injects the green radioactive liquid into my veins, I wait for an hour while I become radioactive, then I go in for my scan. It's probably my favorite procedure since it is so low-key: a tiny needle, no blood work, no blood pressure... just resting in a room with a warm blanket and the TV. Nice.<br /><br />As I watched her prepare the needles I noticed that the radioactive syringe came from inside a heavy lead safe that she had to lift with two hands. The syringe was also encased in a lead sheath! This procedure was getting cooler by the minute. She wrapped my arm in a flourescent bandage and left. I watched some terrible daytime judge shows for an hour.<br /><br /><br /><div align="left">I went in for my scan. I asked to keep my arms down since they fell asleep last time and made me extremely uncomfortable. I just laid there sometimes pretending I was in the cabin of a boat on the ocean, sometimes trying to remember song lyrics, and sometimes just staring at the machine and listening to the noises it makes. It was over before I knew it... 21 minutes. I went to the snack room and got some chips for me and Dad.</div><br />Dad and I went for lunch in the cafeteria. We had about a half hour before our meeting with Dr. Fisher at 2pm. We got sandwiches in the deli line. Todd showed up right on time. The hematology oncology office was really crowded. I'm surprised we even got 3 seats in a row in the waiting area. We waited about 15 minutes before being called into a room.<br /><br />Dr. Fisher said my scan looked great. I guess that means the cancer is responding well to the killing-chemicals we call chemo. But not well enough to call it quits. Dr. Fisher prescribed 2 more cycles of chemotherapy (4 treatments = 2 months) and suggested that I speak with his friend Dr. Mauch in radiology. He called him up and asked if he would see me right then. Of course. These Dana-Farber doctors are amazing at immediacy... I've never seen anything like it. So, Todd, my Dad, and I took a hike over to Brigham and Women's. It was about 3:30pm.<br /><br />We didn't wait long in the waiting room... but in the examination room we waited forever. We couldn't really complain since he agreed to see us on such short notice... but we did a little bit anyway. The flourescent lighting was giving us all headaches and I don't think any of us wanted to deal with the important task of asking relevant questions about a subject we didn't really know anything about. We were already pooped.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116544185108018706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZAUsSWPZ2PGHFbagCABWGTGYRBf0pvxlpj7iej6wHp8qpHXABYhuU9ai6ReE5Twa6KD15To7Xy0zcdgeb3Iu-XBZJ9RZ5gZFETxO9i-i8snnGkb-Ht8Y7_aM7c8pSzSX7LhIcFOeWu9Q/s320/Scan+2+001.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Dad and Todd... this is how we wait</span></em><br /></p><br /><p align="left"><br />Enter a med student doing his residency. He was nice, asked me all kinds of personal questions, and examined me. He asked things like how many cigarettes have you smoked in your entire life and how often do you drink alchohol and what do you do for fun. All of these things I had an extremely hard time answering, probably because I was tired and I'm bad at math and I have chemobrain which makes me sound like an imbecil. Dad and Todd laughed which made me laugh and then I attempted to have a semi-intelligent conversation about literature that ended pretty quickly.</p><br />Enter Dr. Mauch. One of the first things he said was that I could never smoke a cigarette ever again. Which I agreed to on the spot. Later, being the insanely nostalgic person I can be I re-<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJC8WM4yYLxDAE6W1mpfslm2ulYA2cMJOSJE06kErd1L7ImxcYIZQmSypkTWqLO_jiba4eG_McJtQS1qD2oOj3ODj3QAHeRuSlDuspW6C3_ex77WK2ndbsZEYHy0Y09rvTLpDm70b7NiS/s1600-h/SMOKES.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116454390226761202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJC8WM4yYLxDAE6W1mpfslm2ulYA2cMJOSJE06kErd1L7ImxcYIZQmSypkTWqLO_jiba4eG_McJtQS1qD2oOj3ODj3QAHeRuSlDuspW6C3_ex77WK2ndbsZEYHy0Y09rvTLpDm70b7NiS/s200/SMOKES.jpg" border="0" /></a>lived all the great moments I had smoking Lucky Strikes on the beach in Fuerteventura and the excitement I felt whenever I found an old school cigarette vending machine and the laughs I had ignoring the harsh warnings on the boxes in Scotland. Now, I am just frustrated because I am forced to change my habits and experience a new lifestyle... which is a choice I would have liked to make on my own... but that I probably never would have. So, I have to try and be grateful and creative with my clean slate. But it's not easy.<br /><br />Anyway, Dr. Mauch talks to us slowly and thoroughly like he has all the time in the world, which was really nice since we waited so long. He reccomends 3 weeks of Monday through Friday radiation in Boston, where the precision experts practice. We tried to look at the alternatives since we know from the research that radiation can cause breast, lung, and thyroid cancer.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhaQXrh7EsWLnACzr4RXwbc8WLzpKtMALI_O4JxNFJcW4x_rEV3soZqXd8tgg5oVxgTE-WSYkT6vKRfZIIig-DGWxJsVFjKTx4XUecW_2hK6GyFgGG8SGF1b9mczKzKlYmTYtfd5lrVw6/s1600-h/Scan+2+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116544769223570978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhaQXrh7EsWLnACzr4RXwbc8WLzpKtMALI_O4JxNFJcW4x_rEV3soZqXd8tgg5oVxgTE-WSYkT6vKRfZIIig-DGWxJsVFjKTx4XUecW_2hK6GyFgGG8SGF1b9mczKzKlYmTYtfd5lrVw6/s320/Scan+2+004.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The two options are:<br /><br />A.) 4 more cycles of chemotherapy (8 treatments = 4 months)<br />B.) 2 more cycles of chemotherapy (4 treatments = 2 months) and 3 weeks of radiation (M-F)<br /><br />There are new lymphoma and radiation studies happening as I write this, but all of the results won't be in for years to come. What we know now is that those patients who opted out of radiation have a higher recurrence rate. Dr. Mauch estimates that chemo alone probably produces a 75-80% cure rate with a relapse rate of about 20%. Radiation boosts the cure rate up to 90-92%. Dr. Mauch also estimates that the newer, more precise radiation fields probably produce about half as many secondary cancers as studies done in the past show.<br /><br />After shaking hands with Dr. Mauch and his resident we hiked into the bowels of the parking <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRaBHamKe_qjzU6ixt68swIg5tWnnaw0buDAzxgxVZkd4VYICTfcKU9GblmvfTzaiUAS3fpMpYy7pjLFw0Q8VSkQpOsnkM1IAHXgGCSrV4LWscgPSR9fuDXVwqWAGrfFAW1Y44wDXZAHw/s1600-h/Scan+2+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116545460713305650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRaBHamKe_qjzU6ixt68swIg5tWnnaw0buDAzxgxVZkd4VYICTfcKU9GblmvfTzaiUAS3fpMpYy7pjLFw0Q8VSkQpOsnkM1IAHXgGCSrV4LWscgPSR9fuDXVwqWAGrfFAW1Y44wDXZAHw/s200/Scan+2+006.jpg" border="0" /></a>garage and went for a bite to eat. We thought that by leaving the city later we would avoid the rush-hour traffic. So we had a few drinks, I had a salmon sandwich. We dropped Todd off at home.<br /><br /><br />Again, we hit traffic around I-95. I'm not sure what it was... but it was a slow day. We didn't get home with our news (whether you call it good or not is your own discretion) until 8:30pm.<br /><br /><br /><div align="right"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Dad deciphers the parking voucher</span></em></div><br /><div align="right"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><br /><div align="left">Good nite!</div></div>pattyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661695892269643104noreply@blogger.com5