Better

Today is April 8th, 2013. I am just about a month out from my radioactive iodine treatment. I've been off of tamoxifen for about a week. I feel better than I have since February of 2007. Thanks, God.

The Last 24 hours

Here we are. 24 hours till the end of isolation. 24 hours until the end of any foreseeable cancer treatments. 24 hours till the hug fest. Oh how I long for this to be the end of it.

I now know, however, that I will never be "done" with cancer. It will always be part of my life. And though I transition from fighter to remission to survivor, I will always be one of the three. Cancer has changed me forever.

This last bout wasn't bad, relatively speaking. Sure I was tired, had pain after surgery, lost some of my singing range and power, had a funny taste in my mouth for days, and felt blah overall, but that's nothing compared to even just one round of chemo or the effects of external radiation,   not   even   close.

Before the thyroid cancer was diagnosed, I was planning a party, a BIG party. A party to celebrate the end of remission, the possibility of adoption, and the simple fact that I was alive. I've decided not to have that party. Not because those things aren't worthy of celebrating, they are for sure; but because the real reason I wanted to celebrate, was because I would be done with cancer. That reason no longer exists. In fact, it never did, I only thought it did.

Now before you go trying to talk me into having it anyway, please realize that I made the decision months ago, and thus- stopped saving months ago. So if you want a party you are going to have to pay for it. We also didn't plan the date into Chris's vacation time, so it would not be on June 1st as originally planned (at least not up in MA.) Also, Chris did an EXCELLENT job of helping me celebrate on the weekend of February 1st, the actual date when I went from being in remission of breast cancer to being a breast cancer survivor, despite being in between treatments for thyroid cancer. So I don't want to hear a peep about having it anyway. Got it? Good.

Instead of throwing a party and having one day, or even a weekend of celebration, I suggest that you all change your life the way that cancer has changed me. Each day we are breathing is a reason to celebrate. Celebrate the big things, the little things, the obscure holidays, even the stuff that drives you nuts. Because you know what? There is a guy lying in a hospital bed wishing for the chance you have to cart your kids here, there, and everywhere. There is a girl who would give anything to have a kid who knows how to push your buttons, because it means she has a kid. And there is a kid who doesn't know if he'll have another birthday cake, because he may not be alive by his next birthday. (I've been that guy, that girl, and that kid.)

Life is a gift from God. We need to spend it showing love to each other, focusing on what is most important, and learning to be friends even when we disagree. Perspective is a funny thing. We can learn so much if we just open our eyes to the world around us.

Today, in the last 24 hours of treatment, I'm going to read, scrapbook, eat ice cream, and wear my wonder woman pj's with pride, because I feel well enough to do so. Find your reason to party and live well, my friends. Live in love.

Update 2/25/13

It's been 2 weeks since I've had any artificial thyroid hormone and one week since I started a low iodine diet. I feel surprisingly well! I've felt down a few times, been cranky a few times, but for the most part have just been tired. And, thanks to Chris and his mom, I've been able to get the rest I need.

Today I had my "trace" dose of iodine. They will give me a head to toe scan on Thursday to determine how much radioactive iodine is needed to kill any remaining thyroid cells. (The thyroid is the only part of the body that absorbs iodine. Thus, the relatively easy treatment. There is no need to kill healthy cells along with unhealthy ones the way that traditional chemo therapy and radiation do.)

So, for now, I will hug my kids and husband and prepare the basement for my time of isolation when I can't hug any of them. Thankfully, after that, this mess should be over with!

This is why I eat at McDonald's

Today's cooking adventure was so fantastic, that it gets it's own blog post. Anyone who knows me, knows I don't cook, but this low iodine diet has left me with two choices: eat nothing but raw fruit, veggies, and nuts, or spend some quality time in the kitchen.

The first two days went pretty well. I definitely struggled when I had to eat an apple while my family all ate pizza, but I made it through ok. My goal in all of this is to eat as normally as possible. I've heard far to many stories of people living off no-salt peanut butter and matzah. The idea is to starve the cancer, not the Kelly!

So today, I decided to make a hamburger and fries for lunch. The potatoes were already peeled and cut and Chris had picked up some burgers, so I was good to go. I started the burger and the oil for the fries. I had never actually fried anything before, but I knew the basic concept. How hard could it be? (Oh yeah- you can see it coming now, can't you?)

The burger was flipped, the oil was hot, and in went the potatoes... And out went the oil onto the electric coil below. Flooph! Flames appear around the pan and I think (very calmly mind you,) "there's a fire. Grease- no water- baking soda- fire extinguisher- maybe it will burn itself out- use the extinguisher Kelly!" And, I did. I aimed right at the base of the pot, avoiding my burger beautifully, because dog-gone it, I was going to EAT that food!

And you know what? After the flames were extinguished and cold air blew the smoke out, I ate it. I ate it ALL. (Alright, I didn't eat some of the fries. I made too many.) But STILL! I knew there was no chance of using the stove again any time soon, so I ate and I liked it.

Oh, did I fail to mention that my mother in law - wife of a fireman - witnessed the whole thing? Yeah... Awesome.

On the plus side, I don't think the stove has ever been this clean. EVER. Q-tips were used, people! On the minus side, the burner that ignited the oil, is ka-put. (It only worked half the time anyway.) One of the back burners smokes, but we have 2 that DO work! Most of the family had takeout for dinner, but Chris made me veggies and rice.

Because there was no way that I was going to use the stove!

My motto

I've been off thyroid hormone for 8 days and been on a low-iodine diet for one day. I'd like my thyroid back thank you very much.

On the positive side: it's not chemo.

On the negative side: my mood is def down. I feel like a lead weight. I'm tired. I have little patience and a short fuse. I want to explode.

On the positive side: it's not chemo.

That is all

My 15 minutes of fame

I told you they interviewed me :)

http://www.observer-reporter.com/article/20130129/HEALTH/130129221/0/SEARCH#.UQhwn79EGSo

Cancer, cancer, and more cancer

Cancer is everywhere. A day or two that will go by where I don't think about it, but it rears it's head almost everywhere I look.

For example: (spoiler alert to Downton Abbey fans)
I'm a Downton Abbey fan. I think the only people who aren't fans are those who haven't watched it yet. Even my husband volunteered to watch it with me, and he doesn't watch ANY of my shows! But, as I was saying... in Season 3's opening episode, one of the characters, a servant, feels a lump in her breast and heads to a doctor for testing. She and her friend are concerned that it's cancer. The doctor won't know for sure until he sends the samples out for testing, so we the fans get to wait a week to discover if she does or doesn't.

Seemingly innocent, right? WRONG. Even though I know this is a fictional tale, I could feel this character's agony, the pain of not knowing. It brought back the memories of first feeling my tumor and trying to live life as if it didn't exist. It was awful. And this week on the 2nd episode, when they revealed that the tumor was benign, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was THRILLED that the cancer plot would be dropped and I wouldn't be reminded of the disease every time I watched the show. In fact, I even considered NOT watching the show, just to avoid the memories it gave me... but just for a moment. ;)

Just yesterday I looked through a local newspaper scanning for things to do. What did I see? An article on a breast cancer walk. I was even acquainted with a person who helped organize it! And that got me thinking, "Why did they do a breast cancer walk? January is thyroid cancer awareness month, not breast cancer." And that set off a long train of thought on how I bet no one even knows it's thyroid cancer awareness month and what should I be doing? and blah blah blah...

Then today I see my endocrinologist. He looks all the paperwork over, tells me I have, "the most beautiful scar I've ever seen;" tells me that I was well taken care of by my surgeon, and schedules a body scan to determine if I'll need radioactive iodine (chances are quite good that I will.)

I take a look at this timeline and it doesn't start till February 12th. I have to stop my artificial thyroid hormone medication (meaning I'll be incredibly tired, cold, and gain weight just by looking at food.) I then start a special, low iodine diet (goodbye dairy and everything that comes in a box, can, or jar.) Then I get a blood test, then I see my doctor again, then I get a body scan, and if that scan shows what we think it will show then I get to be radioactive for a while. FUN FUN.

I knew this was coming, but I was hoping it would happen sooner. At this point, the iodine therapy (where I have to be isolated for 2 weeks) won't start until the end of Feb or early March. This means no scrapbook retreat, no celebrating Chris's birthday with him, and no Regional Festival of Life (youth event in Boston.) I am completely and totally bummed. So much, in fact, that I'm trying to get it all moved up. I can't push it back because my best childcare option (Chris's mom) isn't available in March. That, and I don't like the idea of cancer floating around in my body, especially with my sub-type.

So there it is. Cancer, cancer, and more cancer. At least I have good looking scars. ;)