Chemo...Friend and Foe, First Hurdle Completed

Da da daaaa--, da da daaaa--, da da daaa, dada dadda dada DAA DA* (*theme from Rocky) As I walk down Wedgewood Drive to my friend Kimball’s house I hear the theme from Rocky blasting….as her house gets into sight I am greeted by pink balloons and pink ribbons in all sizes. My 4 friends (wearing Fight Like A GIRL tee shirts) have been my anchors through this whole storm are standing on the stairs cheering me on! I pick up the pace and start doing my best Rocky moves---I run up the steps (just like Rocky did in his famous scene) I jump my “first hurdle completed” that they have constructed for me. My girls, my buds, my amigos, my cheerleaders, I get teary eyed just writing this. There is so much more to this story, so much I have to tell, but I find that I keep putting off writing in my blog, because I want to convey so much this crazy, overwhelming, scary, enlightening journey that cancer has been , I want to share with everyone the Grace that has covered me,and the love I have been surrounded by-- but I stop short --always lacking in time to justify what I am feeling in my heart. So I am going to try and let go of this, and just write...ANYWAY, back to Rocky and my BURYING CHEMO PARTY!!! So Kimball, Elizabeth, Lisa , Whitney Ann, and My sweet Bill (Kimball’s husband) decide to throw me a little shindig in celebration of completing my chemo. We have a "burying chemo party", complete with Tombstone and open grave. I tossed my “chemo” into the grave and smothered it with dirt. I want to share with everyone (I have it signed and framed and hanging in room) the poem that Bill wrote for me and read during our ceremony….So Here it goes…
Chemo…Friend and Foe
Well here we are old friend, it’s time for you to go.
We’re a little sorry to say it, because she really did need you so.
You charged into our world like an uninvited guest,
It’s weird how you knock people down, to enable them to be their best
It’s on to other things, there’s more for us to do.
We’ll take on the next challenge, there’s no more need for you.
You were quite an adversary: almost beat her to the ground
The pretty girl from Kentucky knocked you out after the 16th round!
You’re to be admired for a job well done; you’re valiant with your work.
But if you stay around any longer, our Tammy may go berserk!
So your job here is over, we gonna have to let you go.
Sayonara Chemotherapy….You were both friend and foe!
SO with this first Hurdle over, I Praise Jesus…Now it is on to the second Hurdle…I have no doubt that I will clear it with flying colors…How can I not? I am blessed with the best friends in the world who are there to lift me up!

MY DOG DON'T CARE IF I HAVE NO HAIR!

My dog is cowering next to me as I type on the computer. He hates thunder storms and fireworks. Not a good thing since where we live has more firework stores per square mile then anywhere else in the USA! It is storming out at the moment,so the Moedog is pacing, panting and looking all wild eyed.( And since he has one brown eye and one blue eye this is not a hard thing for him to do!)
Moe is an Australian shepherd, good thing he didn’t have to take a job in the profession he was bred for. If a storm popped up, those sheep would be soooo S.O.L ….I can hear Moe now if a storm rolled in on hilly green pastures….,
Moe: “Sorry dudes, you are on your own, I need to go find a rock to crawl under!--I am so out of here!”
Sheep: “Baaaaa, Baaaaaadog!”
As Moe has aged (he is 8 years old ) he has weaseled himself into being a 55 pound indoor dog. That is until he does something stupid. Like leave a big cow patty (or should I say dog patty) at the furthest corner part of the downstairs., usually discovered by the kids, “MOOOOM! Moe dropped a load in the workout room!” how come it is always moooom and not daaaaad?. I vow to ban him from ever being indoors forever, but ever so slowly he inches his way back into the house and back into my good graces. I blame myself, I heard Cesar Milan,the famous Dog whisperer once say only to use two syllable words and not a name that rhymes with No, when nameing your pet, so all these years when I was disciplining Moe and telling him NO- he just thought I was calling him! My fault.
I have to give it to the dog, he makes me smile more then he makes me mad. He is the most loyal dog., In the quiet of the morning, after the kids have gone off to school, he follows me from room to room as I clean. My own personal stalker. Lies at my feet while I fold laundry, takes a nap with me in the afternoon. Listens to me complain about the towels on the floor and never offers up an opinion. He has just a nub for a tail, and when we talk to him, his nub responds. I am going to put it on “you tube” one of these days. The talking nub, it is so funny. We say “Moemoe” the nub goes back and forth three times. He knows my parents car when they come to visit from Kentucky. He barks at my neighbor’s SUV- who he sees everyday, but my dad’s truck, he encounters only maybe twice a year, yet not a peep he makes-- just doggy backflips! He adores my dad… of course we do give the dog a heads up and tell him “Moe, Pa is coming” the nub goes off the charts…he understands.
In the summer we get Moe a summer cut, shaving off his long and thick fur. (wet dog hair and boats, not pretty) We do a “Don Johnson” cut , not totally skin, but just a five o’clock shadow trim. When he gets home, he hides out, in fear that the neighborhood dogs will make fun of him. ( I can hear the bulldog down the street in his Arnold Shrwarzneiger accent--“Look at Moe Moe, he looks like a girly dog!”) I gaze into his crazy looking eyes. I can relate to that no hair “naked” feeling. I put on my ball cap covering my bald head, we go to the front yard and I throw the Frisbee/ Moe looks to the left and to the right….he can’t resist….he runs…he catches…..lets see that bulldog do that! I smile.

The Bald and the Beautiful

The irony of this whole process is that I don’t feel sick. Fatigued a little (and my two big toes have gone numb…go figure? ) but besides that, pretty normal. This new chemo is so much easier then what I started out with. Life has not changed much except for the fact that I am completely bald. (and doing the laundry is exhausting, okay you got me, it was exhausting before I got cancer! LOL!) So before I get into discussing the struggles of being hairless, I must share a funny moment (or several…the shock factor of unexpected baldness can be quite entertaining!) After being told by the wig lady to not go completely bald, I left about a centimeter of what hair was left, when I had it shaved. A rather sporty, look, but due to bum advise, my wig seemed to pull on what hair was hanging on and gave me a headache. So I decided to go completely Kojak and go for a smooth, stubble free noggin. Using Heyward’s electric shaver I thought I had done a pretty thorough shave job. I go into the office to model my new look to him, this is how the conversation went
Me: So what do you think, do I look like Britney Spears?
Husband: No, more like a Harekrishna, you missed a spot on the top back part of your head…
Me: Maybe I can put on a flowy rob, and work the tambourine at the airport, who knows it could turn into a lucrative income….
It is so easy to get lost in the irony of it all. Riding down the road, I rub my chin, a stiff hair is sticking out. 3 of my eyelashes remain, 90% of my body hair is gone (including bikini line hair, which hey, is a good thing!) but yet I have this stiff witchy-poo whisker sticking out, that no one has bothered to tell me to pluck! Ya have to laugh! I do rotate wearing one of my 3 wigs to work, but after having one on all day, trust me, I am ready to take it off as soon as I get in the car! I am sure I have gotten some funny stares, as well as almost caused a few car accidents riding down the road with my shiny head reflecting in the sun. (note to self, remember to bring head scarf.) I am usually working a bandana around the head, or one of my many selection of baseball hats (newest one given to me by the FORD Dealership, says “Tough Girl” I love it!) So I am going to share a few funny snippets from my day:
Me sporting a pink bandana with big loopy silver ears…
Heyward: Honey, you go girl with that “Pirates of the Caribbean” look!
Me: aaarrrrrgggg, matey…bite me!
Me sporting a blue bandana
Heyward: So are you a Crypt or a Blood today? (for those who don’t get it, inner city hoodlums wear bandanas to identify what gang they belong too)
Me: Yo, Yo, dog,… bite me!
My baldness under a baseball hat does not allow me any anonymity about my cancer. I go to the grocery store and a sweet lady tells me she is a survivor and I will get through this, in the bookstore, the clerk tells me she is hitting her one year mark of beating cancer, and shows me some great book to read. A man stops me in the parking lot, his wife is a survivor and they are part of a support group, he gives me her number. I am not ashamed, I am bald, I am bold, and because of the great support, laughter and love I receive from my friends, family and husband I feel beautiful (and blessed!). As Robin Givens (from Good Morning America fame) and a breast cancer survivor, said so bravely…”My hair does not define me.”

God Whispers

News spreads fast, and good news, I have found, even faster. By now most everyone has heard that the chemo is working, and all those days of nausea, fatigue, lethargy, and bone aches have been worth it. My tumor has been reduced by 80%. Heyward and I meet with my primary breast Doc on Tuesday, so I don’t know if this is normal or extraordinary. I like to think it is the healing hands of God, and everyone’s prayers and that they are truly exceptional results. But something happened that now in foresight (or is it hindsight?), I guess I should have shared with everyone before hand, to show the faith that I have that I will be healed. We all have at one time experienced de-ju-vu, or intuition, or what ever you want to call it. I am now going to start calling these “visions” God whispers. God whispers have come to me over the years, gosh, last year I did have a dream that I was looking at myself in a mirror, and a bald me was looking back. (but I also have had dreams where a 300 pound Tammy with no teeth has looked back at me too!) I really didn’t think anything about it. These dreams or visions have come and gone through the years, and when they have come to light, I laugh, and say, Gosh, I knew this already; God was trying to give me a heads up and prepare me. A goal of mine is to try and listen to these whispers more often and act on them. Anyway, the MRI is not the most pleasant experience; you lie on your stomach, and drop the “girls” into holes where they are then pressed flat to accommodate the images to be taken. An IV is also placed in your arm the entire time. You are then slid into the mouth of a spaceship - donut, with earplugs because sounds the machine makes is deafening. The room temperature is kept bone chilling for the machines sake. The nurses cover you with a warm blanket in the effort to keep you from freezing. So I am in this state of uncomfort, trying not to have a panic attack, the girls are in vice grips and I am told not to move (not a problem!), so I start saying the Lords prayer to calm me. In the middle of this I hear (and remember I have earplugs on) whispered to me, 80%. Throughout the rest of the day, it is implanted in my head 80%. We are told that it is a 24-hour wait to get the images read. The next day we do not hear from the imaging office. Heyward is on pins and needles, but I am calm, because I know it is going to be at 80%, but I fail to share this with anyone. Why? Because my human frailties take over and I am a little frightened to acknowledge that such an awesome thought has been sent to me. The devil did send me a few nay Sayers, but I turned them away assuring them that I had no doubt that good news awaited us. My wig and I are at work when Heyward called, the Doc has finally got in touch with him and announced an 80% reduction! I started crying, the girls at work started crying, I am crying now as I type this. Confirmation of my God whisper. I will listen to these whispers, and believe .

Hot Flashes, Nose Hair and a Milestone
Okay, first milestone yesterday. I finished up my fourth round of the “AC” (called the Red devil) chemo yesterday. Thanks to a very awesome, attentive nurse (always befriend the nurses), she noticed that my white blood count was normal and was able to talk to the doctor and call off the yucky Neulasta shot that always follows the next day! Praise Jesus, and the nurse that cares!! That makes me so happy! (Never believe those pharmaceutical commercials, the Neulasta one, it is all these beautiful healthy people of different ages and ethnicity standing in a field of flowers, with a gentle breeze blowing, talking about how this shot has given them more energy, after their chemo, HA! They skirt over the wicked side effects!) Anyway, one of the side effects of all these chemicals they are pumping into me is HOT FLASHES! So last night I crank down the AC to 55* (Luckily my unit is separate from the rest of the house), Heyward sleeps with Cole after my chemo treatments, because I want the bed (ha, really the TV remote!) to myself. Aaaah, sweet victory, HOT (kick cover off, cold cover up, HOT, cold, I manage to sleep pretty decent with the air and fan blowing on me. Heyward comes to check up on me the next morning, as I peak out from under the comforter (a cold phase), I see him laughing.
Me: What is so funny?
Husband: The only thing I could see when I came in was the top of your bald head. You looked like a little bald baby bird in a nest! It’s cute.
What can I say, I will take cute that early in the morning!
So, I am noticing the green pollen everywhere. In the mornings now, my eyes are glued such, and my nose won’t stop running. Allergies have never been much of a problem with me. So I am trying to figure out why it is bothering me so much. Flash to the bathroom, One of the pluses of chemo is I no longer have to use surgi cream to remove my excess facial hair (ok moustache). As I am expecting my face for any other hair that may need to be pluck, (another story in itself) I notice I have very little nose hair as well. Well, I put 2 and 2 together, and figure my allergies are so bad, because I no longer have nose hair to filter out the pollen. This was yesterday, so while I talk to the doctor about everything , I point out that I no longer have nose hair, and my allergies are killing me. Hoping for a prescription or something, This is how the conversation goes.
Me: Hey, Doctor Doogie (since he looks like he is 12) This pollen is killing me, could the fact that I have no nose hair be part of the problem?
Doctor Doogie: Ummm, well Tammy, this is a first, I have talked about a lot of side effects of chemo, but no one has ever brought up the loss of Nose Hair before.
Husband : Only Tammy could come up with a question you never heard before.
Me: (Thinking but not saying, Yeah, but Dr. Doogie, has only been in practice like what, only a year.) Ha!
Needless to say, I didn’t get a prescription, but Dr. Doogie got a good laugh.

The Hugs (O) and Kisses (X) story (funny)

So I did come up with my title for this blog weeks ago, (in one of my dream writing sessions). So the story goes, it is my birthday no less, Heyward and I are at our first cancer appointment with the radiologist who is going to share with us the MRIs of my tumor. I am filling out paper work, and I get a text on my phone. I ask my husband to read it to me since I am once again filling out for the up tenth time that I have no history of cancer, never been in a hospital (besides giving birth) , blah blah blah. So this is how the conversation goes:

Husband: Its Elizabeth, she says Happy Birthday, and XOXOXOXOX, what does ox- ox- ox mean? Why is she saying ox to you? Ox the animal?

Me:(not believing I am hearing this) You mean XO, XO, that means hugs and kisses, oh my gosh!, you don't know that XO means HUGS AND KISSES? (I am also thinking what a nimrod, but I don't say that! *L*) I have written you love letters and sent you cards for over 20 years and always signed them XOXO, and you never knew that meant hugs and kisses!?????

Husband: Oh , I always thought it was sports related. (no joke this is what he said! and meant it)

Me: I am sorry, but every person on this planet knows that XOs mean hugs and kisses.

At this point husband starts naming off a list of men he is sure that would not know the meaning of x and os. With me challenging him to call them, because once again every human on earth, besides my husband, and maybe some pygmies somewhere in Uganda knows that X and Os mean HUGS and Kisses! We are still discussing (arguing ) about this as we head down the corridor to the doctor. We are promptly met with a doctor, that if it wasn't for a few grey hairs, I would swear was Doogie Howser. Dr. A is attentive, explaining to us the size of the cancer, the type, my treatment, and why, oh why, something like this can happen to someone like me! He tears up with us, holds my hand, and does all the right things. After 45 minutes of his undivided attention he asks us one final question.

Dr. A: You all have asked wonderful informed questions, is there anything else you may want to know?

Me: Yes, Dr. A, do you know what Xs and Os mean?

Dr. A: You mean hugs and kisses?(with a very perplexed look on his face).

Me: (Looking to husband) You see, even DR. A KNOWS the meaning of Xs and Os! *LOL*

So you see, even in the darkest of moments, you can find something to lighten your spirits, so when I am feeling a little blue the x and o story is something I can think back on and it makes me smile. I shared this story with my friend who texts started this conversation, and she gave me as a gift an XO necklace, I LOVE it, so in a way hugs and kisses is my battle cry against this cancer, my other friends have jumped on the bad wagon as well, so now we all sign off with XOXO, and I can't think of a better way.
xoxoXOXO,
Tam

Hello 43-hello breast cancer

I am a "dream" writer. At night when I can't sleep, I start writing stories, letters, poems in my head. My husband says I sometimes giggle in my sleep. I am sure this is when I think I am being particularly clever, and in that state of half awake, have dreaming. I always fail to write anything down, so when the morning light finally wakes me, I never remember what was so funny, and had me laughing. Thus begins my day (not being so clever), getting the kids up, breakfast, feeding the animals (who are always so much more grateful for their breakfast, and make me smile!), and then getting myself ready for work and whatever awaits me. I am in hopes that this blog will help me put into words my journey. You see, in January, no less on my birthday, the reality of breast cancer came into my life and greeted me with a bang. Hello 43!