good news!

My most recent CT scan shows the beast has taken a hike. That is two scans in a row with "unremarkable" in the radiologist report. I like being unremarkable. Gives me a sense of common. Does that also mean I have common sense? Probably not. I'll settle for being average. So, I'm still in the clinical trial, going every 3 weeks for Avastin/bevacizamab. Feeling pretty good these days, aside from being tired from all the busy-ness of the season. I am ever so grateful for my blessed grandchildren who rock my world and keep me tuckered out. They are my earthly angels for sure.

Alive and Well, almost

I have my first cold. I guess getting out to the Central Coast Quilt Show, movies, and shopping, wasn't such a good idea. But, I sure had fun while it lasted. I never realized how good I felt until I had to endure 6 months of chemotherapy. Now I need to address the issue of having a compromised immune system and even though my blood tests show I'm getting there, I'm still not up to "normal" white cells. I have to take it easy for a little while longer. I have plenty of projects to keep me busy and rest at the same time.

I wanted to introduce some of my peeps at my oncologist's office. On the left is Dr. David Palchak, whom I refer to as my "doc." When he's not killing cancer dragons, he is an avid gardner. We have recently shared some irises that I found in BH&G that bloom more than once a year.

Below is nurse Phea, who in her spare time ran a half marathon in Amber's name, for the Leukemia Lymphoma Society in San Francisco. This is her 6th, most of them full 26 milers. Look on the lower left side of her shirt for Amber Carter. Thank you, Phea. You are the bomb!
Next posting, I will introduce you to the rest of the gang. Until then, keep running, or walking or resting! I will be doing the latter for the time being.

No news is good news

This was and is my Dad's philosophy. He's going to be 94 in December, and apparently it has been good for him. Me? I am a worrier. I sit on the edge of my seat when things are going good. I await the dark cloud to dim my view when I am in full sunlight. I question reality, when is it going to rain? When will the earthquake hit? When will my cancer recurr? That's why I need Nettie. She's my therapist and worth every penny and then some. When I begin my session with her and claim everything is going ok, she must brace herself because I hardly ever really feel ok and yet I am the comedian. That must be my saving grace. My sense of humor. My friends know how I cover my feelings with a happy face, jokingly talk about cancer as the crab grass of the world. But in the darkness of my inner thoughts I am scared. That's why I write, it fuels my soul and allows the bad thoughts to run around and get tuckered out. Then they nap, and I am free until the next time.

In between treatments

Lately, I've been having some "stinkin thinkin," and need to snap out of it. My general health is improving daily and I'm getting out more and even taking a dance class. However, even though I realize it hasn't even been a year since my diagnosis, there is a little demon in my head saying I should be doing more. That's when I get depressed and don't sleep well. Good thing I see a therapist weekly. Somehow, she can listen to me and find out the root of my discomfort even when I usually can't put my finger on it. In this case, the root was about my mortality. I have been trying to take care of things or have them in place "just in case" I don't live very much longer. Now, I haven't been told I won't live long, its just that little demon that sits on my shoulder and whispers damaging things in my ear.
Its my job to push that "stinker thinker" off my shoulder and put tape over his mouth! Right? So, I'm trying to do that, or at least talk about it to those who love me, which are many. I continually surprise people one way or the other and they just keep staying close to me. I am truly blessed.

Ovarian cancer month

I just found out the month of September is dedicated to Ovarian cancer awareness. There is a special color, teal , that goes along with it. I went to the Arroyo Grande Hospital yesterday and met some dedicated people from the Cancer Connections group that are quite involved in their efforts to help others afflicted with any type of cancer. The goal is to help newly diagnosed people by giving them a person to talk to. Phone # 805-235-2997. We had a nice lunch after meeting at the hospital and supporting the awareness campaign led by Maureen Clancy, a survivor.
I also found out there is a new Ovarian cancer patient support group meeting at the Hearst Cancer Resource Center at French Hospital on the 3rd Monday of the month at 4pm. Hopefully I will go to it this coming week.
That's a lot of information and now that I'm feeling better and getting out more, it's nice to know what's available to me. Meanwhile, I keep busy doing what I want to do and feel good enough to do. I like that. I'm grateful that the experimental drug I'm on now allows me to feel almost normal (whatever normal is.)

Fall is here, leaves are falling

With September comes the hope of some decent weather and a time to plant some bulbs. I am not that excited to get the soil ready, but willing. My irises have been crowding each other out for months, but I finally got the energy to dig them out and separate them. They were really enmeshed, kinda like a dysfunctional family! Time to spread them out and give them room to grow. I ordered some new ones from BHG, talked my oncologist, Dr. Palchak, into sharing the cost. He's an avid gardner when he's not killing cancer. In fact, we share the thought that crab grass is kinda like the beast, only 3 ways to kill it: poison (chemo), removing it (surgery) or finally burning it out (radiation.) And, it only takes one root (cell) to start growing all over again.
Anyway, these new irises bloom more than once in the year. Cool!

I am still part of the clinical trial and have a treatment today. So glad the side effects are minimal. I really feel fortunate I am able to participate in this, not only for the opportunity to help others by putting a new weapon in the arsenal in the fight against ovarian cancer, but to keep the beast at bay in my own body. Thank you, Doc, for being the person to make this available to me and others like me. You're the bomb!

Good News!

I have some good news to share. The most recent CT scan, my 3 month post chemo, shows I am cancer free! I like the sound of that. Don't you? The facts are showing what I am feeling, energized and ready to grow hair, grow flowers, and grow optimism.
I must admit, the week began to crawl by from the time the scan was done and until my next doc. appt. I called his office just to check on my appt. time and found Jennifer, she schedules all my tests, appts., etc. She was there alone on a Friday and I never expected she could divulge any info to me and I shared with her how I supposed the doctor would give me my results at our appt. on Tuesday. She paused, then gave me the good news so calmly. I had called her on the way to see my therapist and instantly pulled over to the side of the road to react properly, which means I shouted, threw my hands in the air, did a mental happy dance, and proceeded to call my hubby to share what I heard.
We had both been trying to stay level, not getting too down or too up. If you've ever tried to do that you know how ineffective it is. Like being on a tightrope that isn't very tight. There's a lot of balancing involved and it is nearly impossible to stay put. Now, we were on terra firma, completely ecstatic! I hadn't realized until that moment how tense I had been. The perverbial ten pound weight resting on my shoulders was instantly lifted. I continue to feel light and sort of, dare I say it...normal? Not sure what that feels like anymore, but it must be close. Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Carpe Diem!