Forgot to put this on my last post... when I moved into the Hope Lodge, the bathroom was, to be kind, simply dreary. I needed to grab towels for myself anyway, and also bought a shower curtain and a few bath accessories to brighten things up a bit (gotta love the clearance aisle!). Anyway, my intention was to pass them along to someone else when I was finished, so if you're interested in them, let me know and I'll happily send them along totally free. They were worth the tiny investment just to lift my spirits for a few weeks. The shower curtain is a vinyl photo view of fish in an ocean, most of the fish less than three inches in size. It's primarily a dark blue. I also have a soap pump and soap dish (which I use to collect my jewelry) that weren't designed to go with it, but are also fish. I'm thinking it would all be best in a kid's bathroom or a college dorm bathroom. Anyway, let me know if you're interested and I can send you the links to see pictures of them.
: )
Carpe diem. - Trela
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
16 down, 9 to go!
My third week of treatment progressed smoothly. I'm starting to look like I have a slight sunburn, but it doesn't hurt and it's not very red at all. My techs and doctor seem pleased with my progress thus far! They'll double me up sometime this week or next in order to make up the Monday I missed with our blizzard at home.
I've been volunteering at a local middle school a few days a week when my schedule permits. It helps to fill the time! The teacher's first two classes of the day are sixth grade math, and those are the ones she needed help with. Fortunately the math teacher on my team in Iowa has taught me well for the last few years, so I'm confident in my "helping!" Still hate fractions, but at least now I'm good at them...
Last Friday I also had the opportunity to assist in judging the regional Science Fair. They have about 100 judges from all different careers, and no, I didn't have to judge anything too "sciency." My category was creative or original topics, and they gave me about 25 high school and middle school projects to choose from. My personal favorite was the high school girl who, herself a vegetarian, decided to see what would happen if she fed a Venus Fly Trap Boca Burgers instead of meat! Unfortunately for the plant, her hypothesis was correct.... no new vegetarian versions of the plant out there, but maybe making a hybrid will be her experiment next year...
I flew to Chicago last weekend and then headed up to Milwaukee while Eric and the kids drove there Friday night. Sunday we had tickets to take Kile to "The Lion King." I decided he was old enough for Broadway, and that this show would be a good choice since it's pretty much a more beautiful and artistic version of the movie he already knows. It wasn't quite as good a production as the one I saw in Chicago a few years ago (smaller stage, I think), but it was still well done. Midway through the first act he turned to me and said, "Mommy, I LOVE this!" Three points for the parents! Meanwhile, my parents took Cavanaugh to the Pfister Hotel for a fancy mac and cheese lunch followed by some strawberry ice cream. Pretty much as long as she's wearing her fancy patent leather shoes, she's happy! Such a girly girl!
Papers to grade, my grades are due next week, so I guess that means I need to get them in THIS week when I'm home!
Carpe diem. - Trela
I've been volunteering at a local middle school a few days a week when my schedule permits. It helps to fill the time! The teacher's first two classes of the day are sixth grade math, and those are the ones she needed help with. Fortunately the math teacher on my team in Iowa has taught me well for the last few years, so I'm confident in my "helping!" Still hate fractions, but at least now I'm good at them...
Last Friday I also had the opportunity to assist in judging the regional Science Fair. They have about 100 judges from all different careers, and no, I didn't have to judge anything too "sciency." My category was creative or original topics, and they gave me about 25 high school and middle school projects to choose from. My personal favorite was the high school girl who, herself a vegetarian, decided to see what would happen if she fed a Venus Fly Trap Boca Burgers instead of meat! Unfortunately for the plant, her hypothesis was correct.... no new vegetarian versions of the plant out there, but maybe making a hybrid will be her experiment next year...
I flew to Chicago last weekend and then headed up to Milwaukee while Eric and the kids drove there Friday night. Sunday we had tickets to take Kile to "The Lion King." I decided he was old enough for Broadway, and that this show would be a good choice since it's pretty much a more beautiful and artistic version of the movie he already knows. It wasn't quite as good a production as the one I saw in Chicago a few years ago (smaller stage, I think), but it was still well done. Midway through the first act he turned to me and said, "Mommy, I LOVE this!" Three points for the parents! Meanwhile, my parents took Cavanaugh to the Pfister Hotel for a fancy mac and cheese lunch followed by some strawberry ice cream. Pretty much as long as she's wearing her fancy patent leather shoes, she's happy! Such a girly girl!
Papers to grade, my grades are due next week, so I guess that means I need to get them in THIS week when I'm home!
Carpe diem. - Trela
Saturday, February 23, 2008
9 Down, 16 to Go
You'll probably have noticed that my title indicates that I didn't quite get my weekly fill of "the beach" last week. The Waterloo area was hit with a major storm Sunday and Monday last week, and though our accumulation was only about 5 inches, the first inch was ice, and the whole thing was neatly topped off with a windstorm that drifted our road closed.
Now to my city readers, I know that sounds like a strange concept. How could a road drift completely closed? Suck it up, Trela, it couldn't have been that bad. Let me first remind you that when I look out of my windows I see fields and the few buildings behind our house. My neighbors are beyond the view from every window of our house. And why does that matter? Quite simply, in a wind/snow situation, there are no neighbors' homes to stop the snow. It blows. And blows. And blows. And lands where it wants, frequently on the road itself. It took Eric and his SUV two attempts to drive to work (only a few miles away) on Monday, and he eventually gave up until later in the day when the paved roads had been cleared. The Department of Transportation kept going back and forth about closing Highway 63, my route to Rochester, so at that point we decided to cancel Monday's appointment.
On Tuesday morning, our road still hadn't been touched by the county, and since Eric had gotten stuck on his way home Monday night, we decided I should stay put for the morning at least. Cancel another appointment! More snow was forcasted for Tuesday night, however, so Eric called his dad who came over, moving snow on the way. He cleared drifts enough that I was able to get down the road and out, and by the time I was 10 miles outside of Waterloo, the highway had improved to near-normal conditions. Of course, as soon as I hit the Minnesota state line, the snow started again, but I made it to Rochester in time to be squeezed in for a 3:30ish appointment to make up the morning one I'd missed.
On Wednesday morning, about the time I was being treated, we lost Eric's Uncle Joe, the man I'd sort of thought of as my partner in crime in this cancer battle. He was diagnosed about 5 months after me with stomach cancer, and though we knew for a little while that his journey was nearing an end, I, like so many other people who knew him, never really thought it would happen. His passing was harder for me than I thought it would be, but in the middle of his visitation on Sunday, I had a flash of an image in my head -- Joe sitting up there with my Aunt Mary, trying to talk her into trying his pasta while she insists he drinks a mug of her ridiculously hot tea. Italian and Irish, just a couple of angels in my corner.
Living Strong for you, Joe.
Carpe diem. - Trela
Now to my city readers, I know that sounds like a strange concept. How could a road drift completely closed? Suck it up, Trela, it couldn't have been that bad. Let me first remind you that when I look out of my windows I see fields and the few buildings behind our house. My neighbors are beyond the view from every window of our house. And why does that matter? Quite simply, in a wind/snow situation, there are no neighbors' homes to stop the snow. It blows. And blows. And blows. And lands where it wants, frequently on the road itself. It took Eric and his SUV two attempts to drive to work (only a few miles away) on Monday, and he eventually gave up until later in the day when the paved roads had been cleared. The Department of Transportation kept going back and forth about closing Highway 63, my route to Rochester, so at that point we decided to cancel Monday's appointment.
On Tuesday morning, our road still hadn't been touched by the county, and since Eric had gotten stuck on his way home Monday night, we decided I should stay put for the morning at least. Cancel another appointment! More snow was forcasted for Tuesday night, however, so Eric called his dad who came over, moving snow on the way. He cleared drifts enough that I was able to get down the road and out, and by the time I was 10 miles outside of Waterloo, the highway had improved to near-normal conditions. Of course, as soon as I hit the Minnesota state line, the snow started again, but I made it to Rochester in time to be squeezed in for a 3:30ish appointment to make up the morning one I'd missed.
On Wednesday morning, about the time I was being treated, we lost Eric's Uncle Joe, the man I'd sort of thought of as my partner in crime in this cancer battle. He was diagnosed about 5 months after me with stomach cancer, and though we knew for a little while that his journey was nearing an end, I, like so many other people who knew him, never really thought it would happen. His passing was harder for me than I thought it would be, but in the middle of his visitation on Sunday, I had a flash of an image in my head -- Joe sitting up there with my Aunt Mary, trying to talk her into trying his pasta while she insists he drinks a mug of her ridiculously hot tea. Italian and Irish, just a couple of angels in my corner.
Living Strong for you, Joe.
Carpe diem. - Trela
Saturday, February 16, 2008
5 Down, 20 to Go
My first week in Rochester was pretty uneventful. The radiation is going fine, I guess, no real side effects yet, but the skin is a little bit darker in the area they're targeting, which we expect. All of the techs are really nice and seem refreshed to deal with a person who can have a normal, non-cancer related conversation.
A bunch of people have asked me what radiation is like, so here's my routine:
I leave Hope Lodge about 10 minutes before my appointment and walk a block east and 3/4 of a block south before getting to the Charleton Building. Depending on how cold it is, I either do, or do not obey traffic laws and the cute little countdown crosswalks that mark nearly every intersection of downtown Rochester. Yesterday my nose started to feel like cement, so I took the non-verbal advice of other pedestrians and crossed on the reds. There is a pedestrian subway I could use, but I'd still have to go outside to access it, so it's really not worth the time. There's also a shuttle, but at this stage in the game that seems ridiculous, though if I were wiped on chemo or something it would be more practical.
Anyway, after I trust my two little feet to get me to Charleton I go down a flight of stairs into the Desk R area. By the second day, the receptionist knew who I was, so now she exchanges morning pleasantries, gives me a pager and sends me on my way. I chill in the waiting room (actually, I thaw and read) for between 2 and 20 minutes (yesterday a machine was down, so I had a long wait) until my pager goes off. Gather my things, turn off the pager, return it to it's basket at the main desk, and hustle off down the hallway for Changing Room B. Top goes off, gown goes on (a gown clearly meant for some form of non-human GIGANTIC creature because I could usually wrap the thing around me two or three times). I hang in the dressing room area after locking my things in my individual changing room.
A tech comes to get me, and they walk me across the hall to Machine B. The room is huge, the size of a classroom, and there's buttons and monitors all over the place. Overhead is a large flat screen tv that shows video of various nature scenes -- flowers, oceans, mountains, hot air balloons. On a good day I get to see a new part of the video instead of something I've nearly fallen asleep to already. In the center of the room is "the machine," a long padded table backed by complicated looking machinery, a squarish type glass covered machine to one side, a circular one to the other. (The circular one casts the magical beams.) The gown I worked so hard to make fashionable is cast aside and replaced by a small cloth, small enough that if the gown actually fit me, the cloth would be far too tiny. I get on the table and put my head in the bean-bag like pillow that we formed to my upper body during my simulation. It ensures that I lay the same way each treatment. Arms over my head, right hand clasps back of left wrist, and my job is done.
Meanwhile, my flurry of techs (always at least two, sometimes three) strap my feet together and put a triangle pillow under my knees. Then the real fun starts! My tiny cloth is moved to reveal the non-cooperative side of my chest, and the techs are always super prim and proper about covering the right side. Because, you know, after all of this, I'm still exceptionally modest in front of medical personnel. Eye roll. They bring out the bollus, something I'm sure I've spelled wrong, which is a sheet of rubbery, lightly adhesive "stuff" that most closely resembles the material that gel insoles are made of. It's white, and about 12 by 18 inches. They put this on the side of my chest to be radiated and this becomes one tech's job. At the same time, the other tech alternates between staring at a green light on the ceiling and scootching my rear end millimeters to the left or right on the table. They check the photo of my arms to make sure I haven't forgotten how to hold my own hand They look at the lights from above and how they catch the four little tiny tattoos on my body to make sure that I'm lined up properly. I focus on this tech, because the other one, Bollus tech, is slamming the plasticy thing onto my chest and using masking tape to secure it, and me, to the table. This is the tech you don't want to tick off upon entering the room. I always smile nicest at her.
After I'm secured in case of any turbulence during my flight (ok, really its secured to make sure there's no air bubbles), the techs leave the room, and I'm left to enjoy video of flowers, raindrops, or whatever other natural majesty the video is cued to. A red light goes on near the doorway, a buzzing noise from the same monitor, and 20 seconds or so later (long enough to say the Our Father and half of the Hail Mary, I've timed it) Bollus tech re-emerges. She re tapes the thingy closer to the middle of my chest and leaves again. The red light/buzzer/time for prayer routine is repeated, and then the techs re-emerge, another person successfully radiated.
I've been in the room for less than five minutes and other than the cracked rib from Bollus tech (not really, I'm kidding), I've felt nothing. Tiny cloth thrown on the table, gown haphazardly put back on (because really, I know it's coming off again in about 30 seconds), one last longing look at the screen above and it's tropical flowers that I know I will not see on my walk back to my "house," and I'm off to change back into my clothes. Lotion applied as per my nurse's orders to prevent excess drying of my skin (uh huh), shirt and coat back on, smiles for the terrified-looking senior wearing an equally large gown standing in the hall, and I'm outta there.
Breakneck speed back down the hall towards reception, a mini-stop at the scheduler's window to get the next appointment set, and that's it. On a good day, elapsed time, 14 minutes. Now I only have 23 hours and 46 minutes to fill...
More on that next week!
Carpe diem (all 24 hours of it)!
Trela
A bunch of people have asked me what radiation is like, so here's my routine:
I leave Hope Lodge about 10 minutes before my appointment and walk a block east and 3/4 of a block south before getting to the Charleton Building. Depending on how cold it is, I either do, or do not obey traffic laws and the cute little countdown crosswalks that mark nearly every intersection of downtown Rochester. Yesterday my nose started to feel like cement, so I took the non-verbal advice of other pedestrians and crossed on the reds. There is a pedestrian subway I could use, but I'd still have to go outside to access it, so it's really not worth the time. There's also a shuttle, but at this stage in the game that seems ridiculous, though if I were wiped on chemo or something it would be more practical.
Anyway, after I trust my two little feet to get me to Charleton I go down a flight of stairs into the Desk R area. By the second day, the receptionist knew who I was, so now she exchanges morning pleasantries, gives me a pager and sends me on my way. I chill in the waiting room (actually, I thaw and read) for between 2 and 20 minutes (yesterday a machine was down, so I had a long wait) until my pager goes off. Gather my things, turn off the pager, return it to it's basket at the main desk, and hustle off down the hallway for Changing Room B. Top goes off, gown goes on (a gown clearly meant for some form of non-human GIGANTIC creature because I could usually wrap the thing around me two or three times). I hang in the dressing room area after locking my things in my individual changing room.
A tech comes to get me, and they walk me across the hall to Machine B. The room is huge, the size of a classroom, and there's buttons and monitors all over the place. Overhead is a large flat screen tv that shows video of various nature scenes -- flowers, oceans, mountains, hot air balloons. On a good day I get to see a new part of the video instead of something I've nearly fallen asleep to already. In the center of the room is "the machine," a long padded table backed by complicated looking machinery, a squarish type glass covered machine to one side, a circular one to the other. (The circular one casts the magical beams.) The gown I worked so hard to make fashionable is cast aside and replaced by a small cloth, small enough that if the gown actually fit me, the cloth would be far too tiny. I get on the table and put my head in the bean-bag like pillow that we formed to my upper body during my simulation. It ensures that I lay the same way each treatment. Arms over my head, right hand clasps back of left wrist, and my job is done.
Meanwhile, my flurry of techs (always at least two, sometimes three) strap my feet together and put a triangle pillow under my knees. Then the real fun starts! My tiny cloth is moved to reveal the non-cooperative side of my chest, and the techs are always super prim and proper about covering the right side. Because, you know, after all of this, I'm still exceptionally modest in front of medical personnel. Eye roll. They bring out the bollus, something I'm sure I've spelled wrong, which is a sheet of rubbery, lightly adhesive "stuff" that most closely resembles the material that gel insoles are made of. It's white, and about 12 by 18 inches. They put this on the side of my chest to be radiated and this becomes one tech's job. At the same time, the other tech alternates between staring at a green light on the ceiling and scootching my rear end millimeters to the left or right on the table. They check the photo of my arms to make sure I haven't forgotten how to hold my own hand They look at the lights from above and how they catch the four little tiny tattoos on my body to make sure that I'm lined up properly. I focus on this tech, because the other one, Bollus tech, is slamming the plasticy thing onto my chest and using masking tape to secure it, and me, to the table. This is the tech you don't want to tick off upon entering the room. I always smile nicest at her.
After I'm secured in case of any turbulence during my flight (ok, really its secured to make sure there's no air bubbles), the techs leave the room, and I'm left to enjoy video of flowers, raindrops, or whatever other natural majesty the video is cued to. A red light goes on near the doorway, a buzzing noise from the same monitor, and 20 seconds or so later (long enough to say the Our Father and half of the Hail Mary, I've timed it) Bollus tech re-emerges. She re tapes the thingy closer to the middle of my chest and leaves again. The red light/buzzer/time for prayer routine is repeated, and then the techs re-emerge, another person successfully radiated.
I've been in the room for less than five minutes and other than the cracked rib from Bollus tech (not really, I'm kidding), I've felt nothing. Tiny cloth thrown on the table, gown haphazardly put back on (because really, I know it's coming off again in about 30 seconds), one last longing look at the screen above and it's tropical flowers that I know I will not see on my walk back to my "house," and I'm off to change back into my clothes. Lotion applied as per my nurse's orders to prevent excess drying of my skin (uh huh), shirt and coat back on, smiles for the terrified-looking senior wearing an equally large gown standing in the hall, and I'm outta there.
Breakneck speed back down the hall towards reception, a mini-stop at the scheduler's window to get the next appointment set, and that's it. On a good day, elapsed time, 14 minutes. Now I only have 23 hours and 46 minutes to fill...
More on that next week!
Carpe diem (all 24 hours of it)!
Trela
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Radiation Vacation
All set at the Hope Lodge in Rochester (where you can send me mail if you'd like -- 411 2nd Street NW Rochester, MN 55901). The place is HUGE and super friendly. They force the "community" a bit, potlucks every Tuesday, and no cable in the bedrooms to force you out into the lounges, of which there are many! There's a library, computer room, exercise room, pool table, and more! I think I'll be cool there for a while!
My two radiation treatments so far have gone fine. In fact, I didn't even realize they'd radiated the first time because they told me they'd be doing x-rays. I waited for the three of those, and then when they held out my gown I was momentarily confused. Apparently they did the "zapping" in between x-rays. I have to wear a piece of plastic-y stuff on my chest during the radiation -- it feels a little like a sticky gel insole for your shoes, and that's been the staff's biggest frustration. Today they literally taped it down around me on the table so there wasn't as much air in between it and the skin. It's target is to focus the beams more on the skin, which my doctor today reminded me would probably be the worst part of the experience. She doesn't expect the tiredness to really hit me until my 3rd week, so that's a good thing.
I've spent the day checking into Hope Lodge, having lunch with Dad (who leaves tomorrow), grocery shopping (I get a shelf on the fridge in the Lodge), and organizing the papers I need to grade. Not actually grading them, but I have to start somewhere. Now they're all in neat little piles on the unused twin bed in my room. Maybe tomorrow...
So far so good!
: )
Carpe diem. - Trela
My two radiation treatments so far have gone fine. In fact, I didn't even realize they'd radiated the first time because they told me they'd be doing x-rays. I waited for the three of those, and then when they held out my gown I was momentarily confused. Apparently they did the "zapping" in between x-rays. I have to wear a piece of plastic-y stuff on my chest during the radiation -- it feels a little like a sticky gel insole for your shoes, and that's been the staff's biggest frustration. Today they literally taped it down around me on the table so there wasn't as much air in between it and the skin. It's target is to focus the beams more on the skin, which my doctor today reminded me would probably be the worst part of the experience. She doesn't expect the tiredness to really hit me until my 3rd week, so that's a good thing.
I've spent the day checking into Hope Lodge, having lunch with Dad (who leaves tomorrow), grocery shopping (I get a shelf on the fridge in the Lodge), and organizing the papers I need to grade. Not actually grading them, but I have to start somewhere. Now they're all in neat little piles on the unused twin bed in my room. Maybe tomorrow...
So far so good!
: )
Carpe diem. - Trela
Friday, February 08, 2008
Defying Gravity... Literally
Ok, first off, this was NOT my idea. I asked some friends at work to take a couple pictures of me with my homeroom, and they did... then this happened! The kids, of course, seemed all for it. It was far too early in the morning for me to argue, and I was wearing my "defy gravity" shirts, so really, how could I say no?
Gotta love my homeroom this year! I've been fortunate with a fantastic group of kids two years in a row -- wouldn't you know it, the two years that I had to take extended "vacations." These thirteen kiddos were the first group I told this past Monday what was going on with me, and they were incredible. As I told my Language Arts classes later throughout the day, it never failed that one or two of my homeroom kids, who already knew my news, quieted down the rest of the class so they'd be super attentive.
Eric's headed to the Quad Cities for a seminar all weekend long, but my parents are coming tomorrow, so I won't have to deal with my sick kids all by myself! Their timing is fabulous, let me tell you! I'm spending the weekend grading tons of papers (midterm grades due Monday) and creating fabulously entertaining lesson plans for next week. And packing...
My dad is coming with me for a couple of days to Rochester and we'll leave around noon on Monday in order to be on time for my 3:30 appointment. I'm really not too nervous about it -- I think the scary news already happened and now this is just the next step.
Thanks for all of the thoughts, prayers, and Rochester restaurant suggestions!
Carpe Diem - Trela
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Another Good Thing About Cancer...
You get to see people that you haven't seen in YEARS! A good friend of mine from high school was "in the area" this weekend (it's Iowa... it's relative) and came by with her family to say hello! They live in the Chicago area, so we're not super close for visits, but it's still nice to know my support structure is out there! It's too bad they're not closer, Kile is already complaining about missing his new friends and they only left an hour ago!
I'm finishing up some things around the house this weekend, getting ready for a week of work and planning on leaving the morning of the 11th for Rochester. I've been in touch with the Hope Lodge up there, and hopefully won't have to wait too long for a space to live.
Not much else to report!
: )
Carpe Diem. - Trela
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Mayo Part 2
All things considered, my Mayo trip went relatively well. No new cancer discovered, numerous ultrasounds/ mammograms/ MRIs/ CTs to rule out anything else suspicious... So, where does that leave us?
I'll be beginning a five week course of radiation on February 11th at Mayo in Rochester. My radiation oncologist (a new one... bonded with her MUCH better than the first one of a year and a half ago) decided giving me a week and a few days to organize my house and classroom wasn't going to impact treatment at all, so I have a little extra time. I'll be in treatment about 15 minutes a day, five days a week, and will hopefully feel well enough to drive home on weekends.
After my radiation course I'll take another break of anywhere between 3 and 6 weeks before surgery. Exactly what that consists of gets a little gory, but the basics are that they'll take a 5 centimeter area of tissue which they'll need to replace with something... apparently that'll be tissue from my back. The good news is I don't have enough tissue on my tummy to allow them to do a TRAM flap, so they'll do the back procedure instead. Yum. Can't wait. Sarcasm overflowing. Apparently it's supposed to be less painful, but we'll see.
So anyway, that's the news for now! We'll spend the next week organizing our lives, trying to figure out Kile's school schedule so he doesn't have to miss school while I'm living up North, and writing copious amounts of lesson plans!
Thank you for all of the positive energy and prayers. We truly did get the best possible news this week considering the options, and I look forward to beating this once and for all. All we learned with this latest setback is that my race is a marathon, not a sprint. (Which is good, I haven't been very fast since about 4th grade anyway...)
Carpe diem.
Trela
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Mayo Part 1
First things first, the initial reports are that my cancer has NOT spread. They're ordering an ultrasound to check out a "funny" thing on the other side of my chest, but my oncologist pretty much said he's not worried about it. I am, of course, but it seems these days I always need something to worry about.
We'll meet with my oncologist, a surgeon (actually the one who did my mastectomy), and a radiation oncologist tomorrow so they can bicker about what to do next. Surgery is a definite, likely radiation as well, but we'll see.
As Dr. O said, in the grand scheme of things, this isn't bad news. The tumor was literally on my mastectomy scar, so he agrees with our theory that it's likely leftover cells from a year and a half ago. He said local recurrance, but then practically downgraded that further to still being a tumor from the primary cancer. A fine line, I'm sure, but hey, if it makes a difference, we'll take it!
Off to the chapel...
Oh, midway through my appointment while my oncologist was on the phone to radiation, I got a text from the student I've been tutoring for the last 4 years -- he got into college!!!! I'm SO happy for him! Way to go, Kevin!
Carpe diem!! - Trela
We'll meet with my oncologist, a surgeon (actually the one who did my mastectomy), and a radiation oncologist tomorrow so they can bicker about what to do next. Surgery is a definite, likely radiation as well, but we'll see.
As Dr. O said, in the grand scheme of things, this isn't bad news. The tumor was literally on my mastectomy scar, so he agrees with our theory that it's likely leftover cells from a year and a half ago. He said local recurrance, but then practically downgraded that further to still being a tumor from the primary cancer. A fine line, I'm sure, but hey, if it makes a difference, we'll take it!
Off to the chapel...
Oh, midway through my appointment while my oncologist was on the phone to radiation, I got a text from the student I've been tutoring for the last 4 years -- he got into college!!!! I'm SO happy for him! Way to go, Kevin!
Carpe diem!! - Trela
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Mayo Appointments Set
Next Wednesday I start appointments at 6:20 in the MORNING (which I tried not to look at with a sense of foreboding since I'm not at all a morning person). We do the scans (MRI and CT) in the morning, meet with my oncologist at 4:30 (by which point he'll presumably have read the scans), and then see a surgical oncologist Thursday morning. Beyond that is anyone's guess, obviously depending a great deal on what the scans do (hopefully do NOT) reveal.
I'm working up through Tuesday because sitting at home seems rather pointless. Apparently my positive energy befuddles many people but I still don't understand the point of wallowing. Am I scared? Of course, I'm terrified! However, whether I'm fine or not, I don't think spending days a witchy, irritated, angry, depressed mess is going to cure cancer (but let me know if you read any research otherwise... I can change! Ha!)
Eric and I spent all of last weekend burning nervous energy by moving our bedroom into the basement bedroom (which I've been working on for a few months), and then moving Kile into our old room. Of course, lots of gallons of paint again, but if you know that side of me, you already know that Eric kids me about my monthly paint budget. I had intended on my next post simply being a "look what I did to my house" blog, but life doesn't always work out that way. Regardless, since I'm totally determined to not become derailed, here's some photos of what we've done:
Here's what our basement bedroom used to look like:
And here's now:
And here's our old room...
and it's new touches from Kile...
My Mom thinks maybe this weekend I'll paint the garage... maybe, if it weren't 10 below zero!
Carpe diem. - Trela
I'm working up through Tuesday because sitting at home seems rather pointless. Apparently my positive energy befuddles many people but I still don't understand the point of wallowing. Am I scared? Of course, I'm terrified! However, whether I'm fine or not, I don't think spending days a witchy, irritated, angry, depressed mess is going to cure cancer (but let me know if you read any research otherwise... I can change! Ha!)
Eric and I spent all of last weekend burning nervous energy by moving our bedroom into the basement bedroom (which I've been working on for a few months), and then moving Kile into our old room. Of course, lots of gallons of paint again, but if you know that side of me, you already know that Eric kids me about my monthly paint budget. I had intended on my next post simply being a "look what I did to my house" blog, but life doesn't always work out that way. Regardless, since I'm totally determined to not become derailed, here's some photos of what we've done:
Here's what our basement bedroom used to look like:
And here's now:
And here's our old room...
and it's new touches from Kile... My Mom thinks maybe this weekend I'll paint the garage... maybe, if it weren't 10 below zero!
Carpe diem. - Trela
Monday, January 21, 2008
Here We Go Again...
Last week, after Eric tired of me asking him to check out a weird vein on my chest for about the 100th time, he set up an appointment for my at my oncologist's office. Unfortunately, my regular doc was out of town, and I totally refused to see someone new. I compromised by rescheduling for this Monday and in the interim called my plastic surgeon to see if he'd take a peek.
I saw Dr. B. last Thursday, and he decided he didn't know what the bump was, but that we should take it out, which he did as a minor outpatient procedure on Friday. This morning the call came to let me know that my suspicions were confirmed: 1. I know my own body freakishly well, 2. apparently I didn't want my sister's approaching wedding to upstage me in the slightest, and 3. I must miss the Mayo Clinic.
So yep, it's back. (What movie is that where the character says "He's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack?" It's been driving me nuts all day...) Fortunately I still had my onc appointment with my regular doc today (and I actually apologized for going over his head and having surgery without his approval... I have issues, I know). Clearly the main hope is that the cancer hasn't spread and that this relatively small tumor is it. It was literally centered behind my scar, so I have huge hope that there's nothing else anywhere in my body. We'll first need to do some scans (likely at Mayo, likely later this week) to confirm there's no spread, and then I'll need to have more surgery in order to be sure we've gotten clear margins. A treatment course beyond that is determined by the spread or lack thereof of the cancer.
The good news is that in the last 18 months there's been more research and more literature published on my ridiculously rare type of cancer, so I'm less frightened than I was the first time. Today I'm really calm, and was actually in a good mood pretty much all day. The weekend was tough, mostly because I was sure I knew what was coming...
Last Thursday, following my appointment with my plastic surgeon, I called one of my best friends at school and left her a message letting her know what was going on. I was anxious and just didn't want to face heading home alone yet, so I went to a store to run some errands. As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw my friend's very distinctive car sitting in front of the same store I was headed to. I walked in, and there she was, the only person at the register. Exactly who I needed to see just then... I felt immensely better, and then the situation improved even more -- I wandered through the garden section (yes, in January) and saw a sign in front of me. I paused, momentarily confused because the only part of the sign I could see said "RELA" and of course, I read my name. Walking closer, I saw that an "X" was hidden behind a shelf, and that the sign really said "RELAX." Next to it was a sign totally out of it's place that read "Be Still and Know that I AM God." At a time in my life where I desperately needed a sign, He gave me one, literally.
Carpe diem. - Trela
I saw Dr. B. last Thursday, and he decided he didn't know what the bump was, but that we should take it out, which he did as a minor outpatient procedure on Friday. This morning the call came to let me know that my suspicions were confirmed: 1. I know my own body freakishly well, 2. apparently I didn't want my sister's approaching wedding to upstage me in the slightest, and 3. I must miss the Mayo Clinic.
So yep, it's back. (What movie is that where the character says "He's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack?" It's been driving me nuts all day...) Fortunately I still had my onc appointment with my regular doc today (and I actually apologized for going over his head and having surgery without his approval... I have issues, I know). Clearly the main hope is that the cancer hasn't spread and that this relatively small tumor is it. It was literally centered behind my scar, so I have huge hope that there's nothing else anywhere in my body. We'll first need to do some scans (likely at Mayo, likely later this week) to confirm there's no spread, and then I'll need to have more surgery in order to be sure we've gotten clear margins. A treatment course beyond that is determined by the spread or lack thereof of the cancer.
The good news is that in the last 18 months there's been more research and more literature published on my ridiculously rare type of cancer, so I'm less frightened than I was the first time. Today I'm really calm, and was actually in a good mood pretty much all day. The weekend was tough, mostly because I was sure I knew what was coming...
Last Thursday, following my appointment with my plastic surgeon, I called one of my best friends at school and left her a message letting her know what was going on. I was anxious and just didn't want to face heading home alone yet, so I went to a store to run some errands. As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw my friend's very distinctive car sitting in front of the same store I was headed to. I walked in, and there she was, the only person at the register. Exactly who I needed to see just then... I felt immensely better, and then the situation improved even more -- I wandered through the garden section (yes, in January) and saw a sign in front of me. I paused, momentarily confused because the only part of the sign I could see said "RELA" and of course, I read my name. Walking closer, I saw that an "X" was hidden behind a shelf, and that the sign really said "RELAX." Next to it was a sign totally out of it's place that read "Be Still and Know that I AM God." At a time in my life where I desperately needed a sign, He gave me one, literally.
Carpe diem. - Trela
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Happy Holidays!
Health wise, I'm doing just fine, living in sports bra heaven (yuck) and pretty well healed from my surgery 6 weeks ago. Probably have to schedule an MRI soon (yuck again) and then a CT in mid February (triple yuck). Other than that, not much to report!
Since a friend noticed that my last pictures posted were of the Halloween variety, I figured it was time to do some more. On Sunday we were headed to my in-laws' for Eric's family's Christmas celebration, so Sunday morning was a bit of a whirlwind of activity. After taking the time to get Cavanaugh in the bath tub, dry her hair, put on her pretty Christmas dress, do her hair, and then turn my back for approximately two seconds, she decided that her brother needed company in
HIS bath. And yes, ladies and gentlemen, she is in fact wearing her shoes.
Christmas Day itself was a little calmer in the wardrobe department -- snowpants and boots were about all that was required, and the little cherubs spent some time sledding at the golf course nearest my parents' house. No great misadventures there -- apparently Cavanaugh restricts herself to one per holiday, thank goodness.
I spent today cleaning up, unpacking, finding spaces for all of our new loot, and realizing we don't have enough storage space. Again.
Hope your holidays were happy!
Carpe diem.
Trela
Since a friend noticed that my last pictures posted were of the Halloween variety, I figured it was time to do some more. On Sunday we were headed to my in-laws' for Eric's family's Christmas celebration, so Sunday morning was a bit of a whirlwind of activity. After taking the time to get Cavanaugh in the bath tub, dry her hair, put on her pretty Christmas dress, do her hair, and then turn my back for approximately two seconds, she decided that her brother needed company in
HIS bath. And yes, ladies and gentlemen, she is in fact wearing her shoes.Christmas Day itself was a little calmer in the wardrobe department -- snowpants and boots were about all that was required, and the little cherubs spent some time sledding at the golf course nearest my parents' house. No great misadventures there -- apparently Cavanaugh restricts herself to one per holiday, thank goodness.
I spent today cleaning up, unpacking, finding spaces for all of our new loot, and realizing we don't have enough storage space. Again.Hope your holidays were happy!
Carpe diem.
Trela
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Non Medical Stuff
So I actually have time to post some other things! Here are some pictures from our 5th annual pumpkin carving party, Trick or Treating with the kids (Kile is a bat, Cavanaugh is a bunny) and my newly engaged sister and Andrew. It's been a really busy few weeks!
: )
Carpe diem.
Trela
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
All's Well That Ends Well
Ok, so the fact that I'm using the literary part of my brain to pull a not totally dull title for this post out of my head should be an indicator of my health right now.
Surgery went fine, even if it was significantly delayed. My anesthesia person was in another surgery, so when he finished it was already after 3. Then they had to recheck the room to make sure there was no latex in it (still not sure why every time I go there it's a shock to the surgical nurses that I'm allergic to latex... it's been in my chart, folks!). Probably didn't get started until about 4, and the first time I remember seeing a clock was about 5:45. They had to put a weird blanket on me in recovery because I was shivering so much, but it worked (weird because it like puffed with air through a vacuum like nozzle). I hate the whole coming out of anesthesia routine, but my nausea was really not bad at all this time.
It's 10pm now, and I got home about 15 minutes ago. My best friend picked me up at the hospital (despite her overwhelming fear of iv's, needles, blood, etc.) since Eric came down with the flu at about 3am this morning. She's also subbing for me during my week's "vacation" so we were able to chat about kids and classroom stuff. I really feel very good. I walked out of the hospital, buckled my own seatbelt and was coherent for the ride home. My dad, of course, asked when the pain killers would wear off... ha.
So, yep, good day overall (for me, anyway! Eric's still suffering!). Thanks again for all of the good vibes and prayers! Sitting on my bed in the "on deck" circle this afternoon I imagined them all covering me like a little blankie (can we tell I have toddlers?) and I felt really calm. I actually wasn't nervous about surgery at all, and that tells you how powerful your good thoughts and prayers are.
Carpe diem.
Trela
Surgery went fine, even if it was significantly delayed. My anesthesia person was in another surgery, so when he finished it was already after 3. Then they had to recheck the room to make sure there was no latex in it (still not sure why every time I go there it's a shock to the surgical nurses that I'm allergic to latex... it's been in my chart, folks!). Probably didn't get started until about 4, and the first time I remember seeing a clock was about 5:45. They had to put a weird blanket on me in recovery because I was shivering so much, but it worked (weird because it like puffed with air through a vacuum like nozzle). I hate the whole coming out of anesthesia routine, but my nausea was really not bad at all this time.
It's 10pm now, and I got home about 15 minutes ago. My best friend picked me up at the hospital (despite her overwhelming fear of iv's, needles, blood, etc.) since Eric came down with the flu at about 3am this morning. She's also subbing for me during my week's "vacation" so we were able to chat about kids and classroom stuff. I really feel very good. I walked out of the hospital, buckled my own seatbelt and was coherent for the ride home. My dad, of course, asked when the pain killers would wear off... ha.
So, yep, good day overall (for me, anyway! Eric's still suffering!). Thanks again for all of the good vibes and prayers! Sitting on my bed in the "on deck" circle this afternoon I imagined them all covering me like a little blankie (can we tell I have toddlers?) and I felt really calm. I actually wasn't nervous about surgery at all, and that tells you how powerful your good thoughts and prayers are.
Carpe diem.
Trela
4 For 4
I love Rachel. Seriously.
Chest x-ray was fine this morning, headed up to the hospital for surgery this afternoon!
Carpe diem.
Trela
Chest x-ray was fine this morning, headed up to the hospital for surgery this afternoon!
Carpe diem.
Trela
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
On the Road to Barbie-ville
Yikes. Been too long, sorry about that, folks. I know you've been sitting in front of your computers for weeks now just waiting for a new update from me... ha.
It's been a while, so this post will entail far more medical updates than you're used to. Count that as a disclaimer, so if you really don't want to know (read: if you're a boy I work with and the info will freak you out), my best advice is for you to skim.
OK, so deal is tomorrow I have my three-month check (for those of you not paying attention, this time on the rotation is the chest x-ray, slightly less scary than the CT which I'll have in... anyone, anyone? Yeah, that would be February.). That's in the morning, labs, x-ray, visit with my kind doctor who I sincerely hope begins to tire of the sight of me since nothing on my chart will change except the date. Here's hoping, and praying...
Tomorrow afternoon (assuming the morning is fine) is when the real fun begins. I'm finally going to be rid of this lovely expander and dent in my chest. Yeah, if you didn't notice the dent, well, good, you shouldn't have been looking, but trust me, it's there. Just look in my best friend's wedding pictures. Sigh. Anyway, they're taking out this softball and replacing it with my (dare I say it?) permanent implant. Yes, boys and girls, tomorrow, at approximately 3:30 pm, I will become a resident of Silicone Valley. And the dent (which is the outside version of stitches used to hold my expander down since Mayo messed up and chose to give me the appearance of a breast on my shoulder, not such a good look, really) will be gone. Phew.
After this surgery, which could actually be the last time I have to go under, I only have two more "procedures"... one will be an outpatient jobby to reconstruct the nipple. That's followed by an in-office tattoo job that I'm told will only take 20 minutes or so. I'm not sure how long I have to wait before those two procedures... at least three months, I'm thinking. You know, those same three months that I'll be in sports bra purgatory. Never thought I'd long for an underwire...
So, thanks for the continued good thoughts and good wishes (and for the crowd of coworkers that either wished me well at school today or called me tonight). I'm less nervous than normal, but that of course only causes me to be more nervous... darn vicious circle...
Carpe diem.
Trela
It's been a while, so this post will entail far more medical updates than you're used to. Count that as a disclaimer, so if you really don't want to know (read: if you're a boy I work with and the info will freak you out), my best advice is for you to skim.
OK, so deal is tomorrow I have my three-month check (for those of you not paying attention, this time on the rotation is the chest x-ray, slightly less scary than the CT which I'll have in... anyone, anyone? Yeah, that would be February.). That's in the morning, labs, x-ray, visit with my kind doctor who I sincerely hope begins to tire of the sight of me since nothing on my chart will change except the date. Here's hoping, and praying...
Tomorrow afternoon (assuming the morning is fine) is when the real fun begins. I'm finally going to be rid of this lovely expander and dent in my chest. Yeah, if you didn't notice the dent, well, good, you shouldn't have been looking, but trust me, it's there. Just look in my best friend's wedding pictures. Sigh. Anyway, they're taking out this softball and replacing it with my (dare I say it?) permanent implant. Yes, boys and girls, tomorrow, at approximately 3:30 pm, I will become a resident of Silicone Valley. And the dent (which is the outside version of stitches used to hold my expander down since Mayo messed up and chose to give me the appearance of a breast on my shoulder, not such a good look, really) will be gone. Phew.
After this surgery, which could actually be the last time I have to go under, I only have two more "procedures"... one will be an outpatient jobby to reconstruct the nipple. That's followed by an in-office tattoo job that I'm told will only take 20 minutes or so. I'm not sure how long I have to wait before those two procedures... at least three months, I'm thinking. You know, those same three months that I'll be in sports bra purgatory. Never thought I'd long for an underwire...
So, thanks for the continued good thoughts and good wishes (and for the crowd of coworkers that either wished me well at school today or called me tonight). I'm less nervous than normal, but that of course only causes me to be more nervous... darn vicious circle...
Carpe diem.
Trela
Monday, October 01, 2007
Thomas!
Eric and I took Kile and Cavanaugh to see Thomas the train at a train station about 100 miles away from us the weekend before last. We didn't tell Kile what was happening, and kept talking about a "surprise" he'd have on Saturday if he was good. I wish I had a surprise every weekend to keep him so well behaved! His face upon arrival was priceless! We walked to the train yard and he finally saw Thomas. He turned, looked at us, and said, "Mommy! Did you know Thomas is here?????" Ahh, the innocence of youth. (And yes, I managed to keep sarcasm out of my response... I tend to save that for the 14 year olds, they're better equipped.)
Cavanaugh enjoyed the day, but sitting in the car for two hours only to get on a train and sit for another 25 minutes was not her idea of a good time. Eating "ticken!" (aka, McDonald's chicken nuggets) in the car on the way home was probably her highlight, though she does perk up a little bit more now when the trains go by our house.
Since the train we dealt with a week of missed preschool and crabby nights because of that darn cold going around. We seem to have beaten it for now, and who'd have thunk it? I'm the only one in the family who never seemed to suffer any ill effects. Irony, gotta love it. My student teacher now has a mere 9 days left with me... I have no idea how I'm going to actually find time to teach again, but I'm bringing myself back on board slowly by grading papers at night again. Eric's busy as ever at work and we've figured we spend about three conscious hours together every week night. Except tonight when he's seeing a patient late. And Wednesday when I have to tutor. And Thursday when I have a Site Council meeting. Pretty sure there's something Tuesday I'm forgetting....
Carpe diem. - Trela
Sunday, September 09, 2007
The Healing Field
As we approach the 9/11 anniversary and my lesson plans again turn to themes of patriotism and remembrance, it was good to be able to once again have a Healing Field to visit. The National Exchange Club, of which Eric is a member, has done this field twice in Waterloo now. There are about 1,000 flags, all tied with yellow ribbons, set up in a memorial park in downtown Waterloo. My 8th graders helped to put the flags out the last time we did this (about three years ago I think), and one of those flags stands in my classroom now as a fabulous hands on teaching tool. I noticed today that while my flag from a few years ago has the name of just one fallen soldier on it, those flying now have three or four. The Healing Field concept is a beautiful one, and I'd urge you to go and see one if you're nearby a town that's doing it. They're year round now, not just around Patriot Day. It's really an awesome sight. The kids obviously loved it, and it was a great (finally not hot) day for us to visit.
Beyond our weekend activities, life is going pretty smoothly in the Rottinghaus house.
- School is going well (helps that I have a student teacher that ROCKS, even if he doesn't think so).
- Eric's busy busy busy, and
- Kile cries when I pick him up from preschool because he doesn't want to leave.
- I spent my Labor Day weekend helping my sister complete the move in at her new place in Chicago, and I ALMOST miss living in a city. Almost.
- Cara's boyfriend's sister seemed to have little difficulty with her first chemo treatment last week, so thanks for all of the extra prayers. I know she was appreciative.
- The Cardinals are hanging in there, which is good for us if only because it makes Eric a lot easier to live with... and it makes me highly knowledgeable in tormenting my Cub-loving co-workers. (I know, I'm a horrible tease, but I only do it when the Cubs are doing well, it's no fun to pick on 'em when they're down, which hasn't been very much recently!)
- My next surgery will likely be in mid-November as my band-aid owie of last May has finally healed itself. We've decided we don't need any more expansions (actually I think Dr. B. just doesn't want to mess with me anymore) so my next appointment won't be until before the surgery itself.
- And Cavanaugh (Cav, Vanna, Cavie depending on the mood and who it is talking to her) is growing in leaps and bounds, 2 inches since her birthday in late April, and I'm pretty sure all of that was since the beginning of August. She's talking all of the time and starting to string little sentences together most of the time. And yes. She's still a diva.
Too much info in there to string together neatly, so I apologize for the lack of fluency. It happens!
Carpe diem. -- Trela
Friday, August 17, 2007
Rachel Wins Again!
Rachel, for those of you not in the names and faces of Oncology loop, is my radiology tech in Cedar Rapids. So far she's 3 for 3, 2 ct's and 1 x-ray all turning out in my favor. My oncologist himself has gotten a lot smarter since he first met me, today walking into the room while saying "your CT was fine" instead of beginning with his usual pleasantries. Have to love the man...
We're going to continue on our three month schedule, next will be a chest x-ray in November. He wanted to do a mammogram (which for me means MRI) by then, but it won't happen until after my next surgery because my expander has a metal disk in it. Magnets, metal, bad combo... After we whip that out to replace it with silicone they'll be able to do the MRI. Just protocol there, nothing new to worry about.
So, since my weekend will usher me into three months of medical peace, I'm off to work at school for an hour before helping to freeze corn this afternoon.
If you're in the area, Eric's open house at the Waterloo clinic (Falls Avenue Chiropractic) is this Wednesday, so drop me a line if you're interested in going! Or, just drop by between 4:30 and 7. We've only been there a few months, but we're very pleased with the look of the place, so check us out if you have a chance. Be sure to tell him how much you love the spine that took me 8 hours to paint...
Thanks again for all of the thoughts and prayers, and please direct some of those to my sister's one day sister-in-law who begins her chemotherapy for breast cancer in the next few weeks. Heather and I have never met, but the emails have been flying between us since we connected immediately with two post pregnancy diagnoses. Gotta wonder what we're doing to our world...
Carpe diem. - Trela
We're going to continue on our three month schedule, next will be a chest x-ray in November. He wanted to do a mammogram (which for me means MRI) by then, but it won't happen until after my next surgery because my expander has a metal disk in it. Magnets, metal, bad combo... After we whip that out to replace it with silicone they'll be able to do the MRI. Just protocol there, nothing new to worry about.
So, since my weekend will usher me into three months of medical peace, I'm off to work at school for an hour before helping to freeze corn this afternoon.
If you're in the area, Eric's open house at the Waterloo clinic (Falls Avenue Chiropractic) is this Wednesday, so drop me a line if you're interested in going! Or, just drop by between 4:30 and 7. We've only been there a few months, but we're very pleased with the look of the place, so check us out if you have a chance. Be sure to tell him how much you love the spine that took me 8 hours to paint...
Thanks again for all of the thoughts and prayers, and please direct some of those to my sister's one day sister-in-law who begins her chemotherapy for breast cancer in the next few weeks. Heather and I have never met, but the emails have been flying between us since we connected immediately with two post pregnancy diagnoses. Gotta wonder what we're doing to our world...
Carpe diem. - Trela
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Technical Difficulties
So about two hours after my oncology office called this morning to confirm my Wednesday appointment, they called again to reschedule. Apparently there have been difficulties with the CT machine, so they have moved me to Friday morning. Yippy skippy! Just when I had almost mentally prepared myself to go, but what can you do? Thought I should let everyone in cyber world know so that no one was wondering why my latest exam results weren't posted yet....
Thanks for all of the thoughts and prayers... keep 'em coming!
Carpe diem -- Trela
Thanks for all of the thoughts and prayers... keep 'em coming!
Carpe diem -- Trela
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