What's for dinner

Still having control issues with my newly awakened digestive system, so for dinner I'm having a banana, some rice, mashed potatoes and apple sauce. Sounds delicious, right?

But, if I don't get things under control, I might have to stay another day. This could be my diet for the next week or so.

Who wants to join me?

How difficile is it?

First they threaten to put the catheter back in if I don't pee, then when all I produce is diarrhea, they need to wear protective gowns and test for C. difficile.

It's bad enough that the first BM I have in months is all over myself in bed. I found out the meaning of a line in the movie, The Bucket List, where Jack Nicholson says to never trust a fart. Indeed.

And, to top it off, I'm having my first experience with adult diapers. It only gets better.

Eulogy for Igor

My surgery yesterday went well.  David was with me off and on throughout the day/night and my friend Michelle visited me last night. I don't remember anything about the surgery, but the first thing I did in recovery was to feel my stomach. Igor (my stoma) was gone and good riddance! No more getting up in the middle of the night because I sprang a leak. No more kneeling in front of the toilet to empty the bag. No more going to another floor at work because the only stall taken was the handicap. No more taping myself up with plastic wrap before I shower. No more gurgling sounds after I eat. No more slushing around when I play tennis or walk. No more wearing two pairs of underwear (don't ask).

Doctor was pleased and the staff taking care of me are happy with my progress. I'm now on clear liquids as opposed to ice chips. Moving is painful when I engage my core muscles, which you use all of the time.

Here's a picture of me post-surgery. Happy camper, indeed!

Count down

So, the flex sig test I had last Friday did not go well. The other two times I had had this test it was uncomfortable but not painful. Normally I am able to administer the pre-test enema myself, rather than having the nurse do it. So after a painful attempt that included some bleeding, I got what David called concierge service and the nurse completed the procedure. The test was very painful, I found out, because the radiation had damaged the tissues. I was probably told this by the radiologist, but that was gobs of information overload long ago. The pain is something I will experience for the rest of my life.

Now, it's the night before my surgery. I've been on a clear liquid diet all day and feeling grumpy and hungry. I got lots of hugs from coworkers and my tennis team (Yes, I played tonight. Better to keep my mind off of my hunger!) I have nervous energy and am running around putting things together.

We show up at 5:45 AM. Usually you end up being prepped for at least 2 hours. The surgery should be just under an hour and then I will be rid of Igor (a coworker said I should name the stoma). I hope they at least let me have some clear liquids tomorrow night. If I need to show that my system is working, I'll need something for it to work on, my own Mr. Hanky!

Lucky me, my first one!

Barium enema, that is.

Never had having this test done, I was apprehensive. It wasn't as bad as I expected but still not pleasant. I feel like I was violated, and after leaving felt like I had to be near "the necessary", as my mom calls it.

The nurse said I was lucky since I have an ileostomy. Really? Well, it meant I had less prep to do before the test which would have meant a clear liquid diet for a day or more. I guess there's always something to be thankful for.

Next up? On Friday a flex sig. No prep for that besides a pre-procedure enema. Oh the joys I am experiencing. Then I meet with the surgeon to go over my upcoming surgery on 2/13.

My sister has been telling her friends that I'm getting my asshole back for Valentine's Day. One of them asked, "Does her husband travel a lot"?

Any way, the test results were good (I'm not leaking) and I thought of pleasant things while undergoing it to keep my mind off what was happening.

Like kittens.

Or the Seahawks win!!! Yeah!

My non-NSA surveillance plan

I met last week with my medical oncologist for my surveillance plan after surgery.

For one to two years, there are blood tests and an office visit every three months. One of the things they are looking for in the blood test is the level of CEA. I will also have yearly CT scans and colonoscopies. Then the blood test/office visits drop off to every 6 months for the next couple of years, then yearly.

The oncologist is positive that my cancer won't return. There is, of course, that chance which I'll face before every test. A co-worker who's husband had cancer called it scan-xiety, the anxiety you feel about the outcome before each test.

 I will just have to keep a positive attitude and take care of myself, continuing to exercise and pile on the veggies and fruit. Speaking of which, it's sunny out now and I'm going for a walk. Afterwards, I'll have one of the honeybell oranges my mom sent us for Christmas.

Last day of the year, last chemo infusion!

I celebrated the new year by having my last chemo infusion! On January 2nd, my little buddy the pump was disconnected. However, the last infusion was not going to let me off easy. I felt nauseous the next Monday and Tuesday night the stomach cramps returned, but not as intense as before and the violent nausea did not, thankfully, materialize.

So the next steps are setting up a monitoring schedule with my oncologist (CT scans every 3 months for 1-2 years, colonoscopies every 6 months...) and my FINAL surgery on 2/13! Getting my normal bodily functions back will be the best Valentine's Day present I've ever had! I am looking forward to getting through the surgery and recovery. What seemed like an insurmountable journey before at the beginning is now snowballing to the end. And with it the one thing I haven't really faced. My cancer. Before it was an abstract idea, not really real to me. What was real was the treatments and getting through them. Now that I'm nearing the end, I have to face the question of will, when, if ever; my cancer will return. The follow up schedule will be a constant reminder that what I have survived has a small but real possibility of returning. I will go forward with the assumption that the cancer will not return. As my oncologist told me, "My aim is to only do this once." SCCA has a better than average record of cancer survival. For now, I'll put my trust and faith in the people who took care of me and my friends and family that supported me.

We have much to go together in the future! Thank you.

P.S. This blog will eventually be winding down. I am now in the process of starting a food related blog which I know many of you will enjoy reading. I'll start to share it with you soon!

Dorothy