Con limón y sal

'Bright-Sided': When Happiness Doesn't Help - Barbara Ehrenreich http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=113758696 I encourage you to listen to this interview. Her book is on my Christmas list. I could not agree more with this woman, and wish her book had come out a year or two ago when this was my reality. Positive thinking is a fine coping mechanism if it comes naturally to you, but it’s not everyone’s way. It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to stay angry. I’m still angry. Unfortunately, positive thinkers die every day, just as much as angry realists do survive every day. Let’s not devalue the struggle of those who have lost their lives to disease by jumping to the erroneous conclusion that putting on a happy face will save you. It just won’t – it’s not that easy. I wish it was. After someone dies of cancer, no one ever says “well, if they had only been more positive about it.” You know that’s absurd. Support the people you love and let them cope h...

The scan was completely clean. Yessssssssss. More later...I'm still chewing on the words to capture my thoughts and feelings... La tomografìa saliò completamente limpiaaaaaa. Escribo más en unos días que todavía estoy masticando las palabras exactas para capturar mis pensamientos y sentimientos...y la alegría que por el momento es difícil cuantificar.

My next scan is scheduled for a day between now and the end of the month (I will refrain from giving an exact date – I don’t want to be asked about it or infect you with my high scanxiety…I’ll just let you know once it’s over). It’s crazy how much the upcoming scan terrifies me. Crazy that from one moment to the next life could shift from working, studying, and planning babies and summer barbeques to scheduling treatment, preparing for pain, and coping with the severe disappointment of living a short life. How is it possible that one procedure makes that big of a difference in my whole world? Doesn’t seem right, does it? Anyone who has walked this road knows the feeling. The stakes are just so high it’s an incredible feat even to walk in the door to the radiology department and check in. “Hi, I’m here to find out whether or not I’m dying.” “Sure, have a seat and read an outdated magazine – we’ll call you in a minute.” The last time I went in the nurse commented on how “easy” I was…I di...

My neck and upper chest have been through a lot in the last few years…so here it is in photos for all you curious folk. Here’s a note to all those with cancer – if you are going to have IV chemo, get a port. Simple. Looks gross, feels kinda gross, but you will be glad you did it. Mi pobre cuello y la parte de arriba de mi pecho han sobrevivido mucho abuso en los últimos años, y aquí está a todo color para que lo puedan ver. Una nota para todos que tengan cáncer – si te van a hacer la quimioterapia, insiste en que te pongan un “reservorio” o “portacat” (que es un dispositivo que se coloca justo debajo de la piel y tiene un catéter que va a la vena subclavia para que entre la medicina directita al corazón (o bien cerquita pues). Facilita increíblemente el proceso…se ve un poco extraño y es otra cicatriz, pero vale la pena, créenme. 2/1/2007 – Sent these two pictures to my mom. I was living in Guanajuato, Mexico at the time and noticed that the cute little sexy depression between my colla...

Hey guys....so I got to be on the news tonight talking about frozen babies, sweet! Quibole! Salí hoy en las noticias hablando de los bebés congelados....chéquenlo: Muchos besos! Hugs

First of all, look at Polo and his bunny...seriously, Polo?  You're too much. Second, the update: I had a CT scan about a week ago, and that afternoon Dr. M's assistant called me back to say that the report showed no signs of the Hodgkins and that everything looked great. She said the Dr. hadn't looked at it yet, but that he would call me if there was anything he wanted to talk to me about before my appointment the following week. No call - no news is good news, to borrow a phrase, and all is good. Then, I went to my check up appointment last Wednesday (after already knowing everything was fine on the scan) for bloodwork, Dr. M's scan analysis, and an update to the plan, future scans, etc. So they call me back to the lab for the bloodwork, and the technician looks at the computer and asks me "So did you have some radiation treatment?" And I responded, "Um, no. Why?" "Well, he's ordered thyroid function tests...that's weird......

Chemotherapy killed my fingernails…back when the fingernails you see (right hand…left hand was left unscathed…crazy shit) were hidden under the skin, there was a break in their growth caused by the chemicals that also took my hair, eyelashes, eyebrows, and soul, and now they are being pushed out by the new healthy nails. This is a painful process. The old nails are (were) still stuck to the skin, but not attached to the new nail growth…so they crack, and any pressure on them feels like they are being pulled off with pliers. It has basically rendered my right hand almost completely useless for most fine-motor skill functions – opening things, writing, scratching, picking, etc, etc, etc. Thankfully, over the past couple of weeks, the nails on my pointer, middle, and ring fingers have managed to catch themselves on something – blanket, carpet, clothes, dog’s fur – and be wincingly pulled off unexpectedly. Though each one caused a significant outcry of obscenities, and even a tear or ...