are we there yet????

I know my blogs are posted further apart.  What can I say, it's all becoming very normal.  With that said, the "normality" is a new issue in itself.
I recently attended a Cancer Surveyor's "After Chemo" seminar.  Family and friends have been urging me to reach out to my new community for conversation, support, friends with benefits (the benefit of dealing with similar issues) and this meeting fit into my itinerary.
I still have two more sessions of chemo before completing this (first) round.  However, it was interesting to sit in a room full of women and men whose hair has grown back, whose temperament is as lively as my own, and who are now dealing with problems associated with living, not dying.  I hadn't thought that far.
Yes, I realize chemo is an injection of drugs provided to killer cancer and that I was going to participate in six treatments total and then... for me, surgery, radiation, monthly pills (to keep the cancer in remission).  Yet, chemo is a bit more.  The side effects last long after the injections.  Some last hours, like the needle poking, others weeks, like the nausea and dizziness, and still others last months, like loss of hair and scars from my port.
At the seminar I realized there was more yet.  In some way I was going to miss chemo.  At this point I know what it is, what it does, and how I want to deal with it.  I know it's substance gives me hope and power.  I like power.  It's concrete.  I can feel and see the chemotherapy helping.  Chemo appointments give me a place to show up to, a person to talk with, and a measurement to base improvements on.
Don't get me wrong, I'm can't wait to be done.  It's irritating to be 33, single and ready to mingle, and be so obviously ill.  My point is, I'd like to see my appointment book full again.  And hair will help me accomplish that little stumble.  Hey, not that I've had no luck.  Thank goodness for the compassionates and my amazing butt.  (sorry dad, had to throw that in there... love ya.)

Finally, I got the chemsie and an injection.  The injection was to help "push out" white blood cells from the bone marrow.  The injection was in the back of the arm.  I have two tattoos, both times avoiding the back of the arm. Frozen and flexing, I thought "relax dang it, relax girl, now."  And then it was over.  Oh, I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong...that was not the highlight of my week.
Just before I got arm fondled, friends and family gathered at Willow Creek to eat BBQ and give me money.  It was amazing.  If I could figure out how to get the photos from Jen's camera I would prove it.  Until then, oh the suspense. By amazing I mean great food and drink, just about everyone I know in Boise, some people I didn't know but who are touched by cancer, and my wonderful family.  I guess they figured I've done my part going to weddings, birthdays, and those dreaded holiday events.  Okay kids, we're even.  But seriously, I would have lasted longer at the mic saying my proper "Thank yous" but I was about to follow my sister's tears with my own, and I can't very well publicize emotion... ha, it's what this blog forum is about...plus I was wearing makeup.
It's the same week I experienced five weeks ago, my bones ache but not enough to loose myself in Vicodin, I feel nauseous without vomiting, and energy to spend but a blood cell count that keeps me locked in alone.  Charlotte, my dog, and I have had some amazing conversations about life, goals, happiness.  We agree, writing a story about a female vagabond's encounters along the California coast is a great way enjoy this space and time.  That and watching every movie in the house.  Well, I'm off to revisit Overboard staring Goldie Hawn (who reminds me of my mom) and Kurt Russell... are they still dating and unwed?

from dad

This is an appeal for financial help.

Two months ago my oldest daughter Nichole age 33 was diagnosed with advanced
breast cancer.  She started chemotherapy treatments right away.  She moved
back to Boise from Denver because she was unable to continue with her job
and because of family and many friends in Idaho. She has limited health
insurance.  Due to her loss of income and the costs of medical care we
suggested she appeal to family and friends for help.  This is my appeal for
her.


Wanting to help her out financially, we've set up a paypal account under
nicholevick@yahoo.com for donations.  Instructions for gifting money are
below*.  We appreciate any amount.  Or email me and I will give you her
address.

Also on Sunday August 14th at 1 PM there will be a fundraising event at
Willow Creek Grill, 2273 S. Vista Ave, Boise.  There is a $20 donation for
the all-you-can eat buffet with proceeds going to Nichole. Their phone is
208-343-5544.

For those wanting a room on August 14, the Boise Hotel and Conference Center
has limited availability rooms for the special rate of $49 a night
(208-343-4900).  They are just up the street from Willow Creek, and very
close to the airport, at 3300 Vista Ave, phone 208-343-4900.

There has been talk of additional fundraisers such as a silent auction of
donated items and services and maybe a motorcycle ride-for-Nichole.  More on
these later.

Of course we appreciate all the prayers.  For those of you who don't know
us, thanks regardless.  And sorry for any duplicates.


*To use Paypal go to Paypal.com, select "Home", select "send money", fill in
the amount, check "friends and family", click continue, fill in the email
addresses of sender and receiver, then fill in the details.  All you need it
a bank account number, or credit or debit card.  Paypal will notify Nichole
of the transfer.


Lannes Ray Vick
El Cajon, CA

jumping bean

I want something I can’t have, chemo.  No chemo again this week.  My platelet count is back up but my white blood cell count has some growing up to do.  Running amuck I tell you.  Okay, I’m way to hard on her, I don’t have any infections and haven’t gotten sick, so she’s still doing her job without as many employees… been there, done that.  My mom asked why they could just give it to me?  Even if I were to be hospitalized and medicated, fear of infection is too much a reality.  I wanted to remind my mom that I’m healthy, other than the fact I’m ridden with cancer, and need to stay that way.

My sister’s and girlfriend’s work is putting on a benefit for me this weekend.  I have friends flying in from Denver joining a bunch of people here I’ve never met (some I have) to give me money.  It’s not even a loan.  I just keep it all.  Well, not keep it really, I’ll buy food, travel to out-of-state doctor appointments, and mostly pay hospital bills.  It’s like a sweetest, coolest, most helpful thing.  Who said money can’t buy love?

I know, that’s not really what it’s about.  I mean it is, but it isn’t.  They told me almost two months ago they were planning this benefit.  I didn’t have do anything… let me rephrase that, they wanted to do everything.  I think it’s the first “party” for me since I was a wee child I didn’t dictate. Although difficult at first, I relaxed my fists and backed off.  I’ve been able to view this gift like the many others people have shown me. 

Two prayer quilts from family, friends, and strangers cover my couch.  Letters and notes of sympathy and optimism collage every day.  A motorcycle, rides to and from the hospital, visits at the hospital, phone calls just to check in, silence so I can release emotions, pats on  the back, hugs, kisses, little crooked smiles and nods from strangers that mean “hang in there sista”, this benefit-gathering, all give me a since of pride and self worth that keeps my mind strong.  And although I need it some days more than others it’s a large pillow I can rely on to be there as I jump.

P.S. the word bean in the title is there because to a few of people I love most in the world, everyone is a bean

family reunion and food

The trek through Oregon to my family reunion was beautiful as always.  An eight hour drive starts as a desert, peaks as a forest, and ends in plains. Missing the call of big city hustle I stayed over in Portland for a night.  Sure enough, we marveled at how easy shopping was at the little boutiques.   Hats, scarves, shoes, furniture, cute little artsy trinkets and pretty “us” wonderful things for our home were everywhere.  Unfortunately, this wasn’t the trip for home furnishings.    I did buy a pair of re-fashioned jeans and a scarf of course.

The Williams family meets every three years on a quaint patch of forest land with a lake, a rope swing, and an old school.  The lucky ones sleep three or four to a room, while others bunk in tents on the front lawn.  My siblings and I bunked with delight.

The camp includes food and service, games (volley ball and baseball), supervised swimming and canoeing, and all the family time one could endure in four days.  Needless to say it’s an adventure we all pay for mentally, physically, and monetarily.  Laughing takes the place of music, name tags should be required, and I’m glad I had an excuse to bring my own dietary supplements (no wonder why people spent so much time on the toilet).

The Saturday before we leave, the adults whose normal ruthless behavior is forced into hiding reveals itself during a trip into town to drink and sing karaoke.  I had gone only once before.  This time sober, the whole of it was felt.  Although we weren’t the only members to brave the microphone, my siblings and I sang “Nothing’s Gonna Stop us Now” from the movie soundtrack Manikin.  It was a off-key tear-jerker.

By noon on Sunday most were packed up and heading back home (Alaska, California, Oregon, or Idaho). 

But that wasn’t the end to my vacation.  Although I made it home, it was just days before my next chemo treatment and a month of my rigorous food program and I was going to be naughty.  I pictured a large burrito with the works, a couple slices of greasy New York style pizza, cold strong beer, and a double chocolate brownie smothered in vanilla bean ice cream and topped with caramel.   So yummy, right?  Well, yah!  However, I didn’t make it that far.  My stomach isn’t what it used to be.  I did enjoy the pizza and one cold Anchor Steam, but I had to stop there… no more room.

Today I went to get that, now routine, treatment only to find out my counts are too low. I need more platelets and blood cells.  I guess I should be thrilled I get to wait another week to feel nauseated and tired but I’d prefer to just get it done.

flexin in the mirror

Ohhhh man, I've been pushing myself pretty hard and wow I can feel it.

Last week I went in for blood tests. (My arm is still bruised, can't imagine if they drew directly from my veins how that would look and feel.) My white blood cell count came back super low, .8. The doctor said he would like to see it between 2 and 4. Concerned that I'd get sick he started me on Levofloxacin, which is an antibiotic capable of treating multiple life-threatening bacterial infections. I'm taking it as a just in case'er. 

After two days of working out, beating brow, sweetin' to the oldies my glands became inflamed.  Now, don't  get concerned, I think the medication is working it's magic.  I couldn't let a little soar throat stop my routine.  I'm highly uninterested in being bone and flesh.  I love my muscles.  I love arm wrestling dudes and bring them to tears.  I love flexing in the mirror.  I dis-love Jen carrying in all the heavy stuff.  So, I spent two more days working out.  And although my glands are still swollen, I have my appetite, no fever, and I'm worn out but feeling the muscular love.

Chemo-Brain

still no wig

 I thought I'd leave a little just for laughs

I had my second treatment Thursday at St. Lukes, Boise.  Things went a little differently here than in Denver, but the basics remained the same: tests to ensure I'm me and I'm alive, bags of drugs dripping into my veins, and meetings with a financial adviser and counselor.

I found out my lump hadn't shrunken, I had no account of my white blood cells, and my insurance had expired.  (Time to turn this info into good news.)  As of today, I can see my nipple again. It had been eaten up by my enlarged breast prior to two days ago.  I never thought I'd be so happy to see my tit sag.

I have an appointment this week to get an accurate white blood cell count.  As for now, stay away if you're ill.  I wouldn't want to blame you for my death.  Also, that above mentioned adviser filled out the proper paper work for me to transfer my insurance.

AOkay, here's what it was like.  Hot and cold flashes all night, which was highlighted by constant bathroom breaks.  The cold doesn't bother me so much, it's 500 degrees outside.  But the hot are a little worrisome.  My temperature is not to exceed 100.5 or it could mean a trip to the emergency room.  My mouth dry and tongue swollen feels like someone pumped it up in order to use it as a floating device.  Nothing tastes good, everything except french fries grosses me out.  My bones feel like they're wagging a war against each other. And I have chemo-brain.  I feel slow and mindless.  I have all this time to be creative and I can't think how.  This silly little blog has taken over an hour.  But heck, there is spell check, and french fries, and I'm not passed out.  So, pretty much having a great day.  How about you?