Passages: Thursday, June 24, 2010

Wow! A lot has happened since I last wrote in late April. It's hard to believe it's been nearly two months since I've checked in but, as usual, I've been a busy (and thankfully, happy!) gal. So, here's the rundown of the many events, or passages, if you will, that have occurred since I last wrote:

First, on the happy news front, there have been a couple of births since before I last wrote (apologies to the Brisendines and Whitmans for the delayed mention). Brooks Andrew Brisendine was born to my dear childhood friend, Elena, and her husband, Briley, on February 25th. As you'll see below, Brooks is a happy, beautiful little boy and I was so thrilled to spend time "talking" with him on a couple of recent trips to Atlanta.

A pre-dinner shot of me (check out the straight-ish hair!) with Brooks and his mommy, Elena.

On April 6th, the Whitmans welcomed their second daughter, Katherine Phillips Whitman, to the world! It was a special treat to meet her on her actual birthday when I delivered yummy Atlantis to her hungry daddy, Shawn. Katherine is just as cute and sweet as her older sister, Lauren, and I had the pleasure of introducing her to a potential future boyfriend, Alex Tulkki, when he made the trek east to visit the Alexandria gang in late April. I think they hit it off!

Alex meet Katherine. Katherine meet Alex. Both of you, please check out Aunt Jennie's straight-ish hair!

Let's see what other happy passages have occurred recently? Well, I guess these two are both bittersweet to a certain extent but since I'm a glass half-full kind of a girl, I think they're mostly happy. Two weeks ago my Grandad moved down from Delaware to Greenspring Village - the best retirement community in the world in my opinion - to be closer to the Alexandria McGihons. It's bittersweet because in order to do so Grandad had to leave behind his wife, Grandmary, who suffers from late-stage Alzheimer's. I know it was difficult for Grandad to leave Grandmary (she is in good hands in Delaware, though) but since he's had his own health issues over the past year and since Mary doesn't really know who any of us are anymore and is very frail, I'm happy to have him close by and in a thriving community where he can enjoy his time. Continuing with grandparent updates, my grandmother, Denny McGihon, just celebrated her 80th birthday this week! While she may not be celebrating being another year older, she should celebrate being a great example of longevity - both in the physical and mental sense. Granny has had her own challenges with a sick spouse over the past year so I was happy that they could be together and feeling well for her birthday celebration. And now that life seems to be back on track for me, I'm looking forward to a trip out to Denver to spend time with her and my grandfather, Clark, later this summer.

And in other news, I've been helping a few friends deal with some far less pleasant passages of their own. One good friend's nearly six-year marriage is ending later this month. I was a bridesmaid in her wedding and it is sad to see something that was once filled with so much promise come to an end for reasons none of us can really understand. I've been helping her try to embrace the single life (...and decorate her adorable new carriage house!) as much as is possible while the wound is still so fresh. And another friend was forced to abandon the urban home and lifestyle that she and her family loved for a new one in the 'burbs. I've tried to demonstrate that life in the 'burbs ain't so bad but I know it's a big shock to their system and not one they would have chosen. And finally, yet another friend has had to help her parents pack up and sell her childhood home so that they could move to a town and home better suited for the daily trials of her father's Parkinson's disease. While it feels good to give back to some of the many people who helped me during my wellness campaign, I'd rather they not have to face these challenges at all. But, like what I kept telling myself last year at this time, better days are ahead for all of them. I don't think it; I know it. It turns out that my dad was right when he said that things always get better (...by the way, he told me this when I was in 4th grade and had very few friends -- I think you'll agree, I've got plenty now!).

Oh, yes, and there's another passage to report: My good friend, Melissa Maclin (or "Mac" as we call her) is on her way to Afghanistan yet again. We had a good bye dinner for her the other night at Christy's restaurant. This passage is definitely bittersweet as it's wonderful to get together to wish her well and welcome her home but we all worry about her while she's overseas.

Mac's goodbye dinner at Food Matters: Mac, me, Melissa R., Christy, Kelley, and Christina, who was in town from NYC. Be safe, Mac!

There are many other less important passages that have occurred recently as well:

The official start of summer! Yay!

My first trip to NYC in nearly a year where I spent time with Christina, Ali, and Skei in Brooklyn and where I met Kavitha's baby girl, Sasha, before we headed out for the most delicious sushi I'VE EVER HAD!

My registration for this fall's sprint triathlon and Team Hope, which is the OCRF's fundraising team for the race! (You'll hear much more about that later...)

The two-month countdown to my next birthday! (Today! I wonder if both of my birthday wishes will come true?!?)

Oh, yes, but there is one final passage that occurred recently and it was both BIG and HAPPY. It's the one that happened almost a month ago in Charleston during Memorial Day weekend when my "baby" brother, Bobby, married his long-time girlfriend, Ansley. The weekend's festivities reminded me (and others) what a difference a year can make in one's life. Last year, during the same weekend, I was very ill from my first chemo treatment and was recuperating in Charleston. Me, my mother and good friends endured a weekend filled with much bleeding, fainting, puking, and bone pain (...but some good times too!). My brother was there to help me that weekend by running out to pick up my Vicodin prescription from the drugstore. So, you can imagine, that it was quite wonderful to be there again this Memorial Day feeling well - and with reasonably good hair -to celebrate this happy occasion. As you'll see below, it was not only a beautiful wedding but a very fun one as well!

The Daniel Island Club where the wedding and reception took place.


A happy, healthy bridesmaid (with decent hair!).

The proud papa escorts the bride.

The ceremony.

You may kiss your bride!

Mr. and Mrs. Robert John McGihon!

Okay, clearly a big jump from the last picture to this one!

Bobby and my mom bustin' a move.

Dad and me doing our thing. Hard to believe I was bald and 15 lbs. lighter just 9 months ago!

So, that just about sums up the passages of the last two months. I'll be back again soon to report out on my 9-month check-up (yippee!), my triathlon training and fundraising, and other things.

Until next time, be well.

A Good Haircut is a Good Haircut: Thursday, April 29, 2010

I loved that Hair Cuttery ad campaign so it seemed appropriate for this blog entry. There were several other titles I debated giving this blog post, which included:

How Stella Got Her Groove Back,
Back in the Saddle Again,
I Get Knocked Down But Get Up Again,
And…
Here Comes the Sun

But the Hair Cuttery slogan won out for a number of reasons.

What's been going on, you ask? Here it is: Q1 2010 was not the best for the Jennster (or J-Woww, as I prefer to be called in 2010). I had been warned by many a cancer survivor and counselor that I should prepare myself to have a post-treatment crash but I was convinced I wouldn’t have one since I had weathered my treatment so well. Well, I was wrong. Big time. Following the holidays and my sailing trip to the BVIs over New Years, I settled back into full-time work – really, full-time life – and did so in the midst of record snow fall in the D.C. area. To say this winter was miserable for this summer-lovin' gal would be an understatement. But there were many other complicating factors to add to my misery than the two to three feet of snow (and ice) that was on the ground from mid-January through the end of February. What's so upsetting is that I think my crash made some doubt who I was and whether I would rebound. Shame on them.


Let’s see. Where to begin? Well, first there was my heel. Remember my decision to have a colony of planter’s warts removed from the bottom of my heel? Dumb move. Real dumb. Our first heavy snow fall happened within a couple of days of that procedure so there I was hobbling around with a Safeway bag wrapped around my surgical boot so foot didn’t get wet. To make matters worse, I couldn’t work out due to the wound so there I was trapped inside and unable to escape even for an hour of cardiovascular exercise, which I’m sort of addicted to. I didn’t believe my podiatrist when he warned me that the healing process would be slow – perhaps even two to three months. Well folks, I'm here to tell you that it really took a full three months.

What else? Oh, yes. So, unfortunately, it seems that the antibiotics I was on for most of the month of January for a couple of infections (don't worry, they're not important...) led to a chronic yeast infection, which then led to “atrophic vaginitis.” Consider yourself lucky if you don’t know what “atrophic vaginitis” means. The bottom line is this: Basically, this winter my worst fears of my post-surgical menopause life came true. I was in and out of various doctors' offices searching for a cure – anything really – to help my you-know-what feel better. The search took about three months. No joke. And all I have to say is thank God for the geek (or, more likely, the team of geeks) who developed Premarin. Bless you!

Moving right along...oh, yes, then there was full-time work and my personal finances. It seems that both had me equally overwhelmed and depressed by the middle of February. So much so, in fact, that in order to function and deal with both better, I got back on my happy pills. Lexapro to the rescue! But the most amazing thing occurred once I started taking the happy pills again: Not only did my debilitating anxiety disappear but so did my almost equally debilitating HOT FLASHES (well, disappear might be an overstatement but they almost disappeared...). I went from having a dozen or so hot flashes a day to having maybe one or two a day? You can't imagine what a relief that's been. As I would later learn from Dr. E, whose own wife also takes Lexapro, it's known to be a balancer -- and I guess it balances body temperature and mood equally well. Amen!

(An aside: In case you're wondering, yes, between last year and this winter I have become BFFs with my local CVS pharmacist. John is his name. I love him. He knows my name and asks me about how I'm doing everytime I'm in. In fact, sometimes I daydream about starring in a CVS commercial -- you know, like in one of the spots where the pharmacist is instructing the patient in how to take a new drug and the smiling patient is nodding their head that, yes, they understand how to take the new drug. That's John and me.)

And then there was the hair. Oh boy, did the hair get me. I'm sure many of you reading this have known other cancer patients who've lost their hair and then it's grown back funky -- whether in color and/or texture. Well, mine grew back funky in texture. Simply put: I looked like a poodle and it didn't make me happy. In fact, it didn't make people who are close to me happy because I bitched about it so much. I felt as though the poodle perm that chemo had blessed me with was frumpy and just another injustice of my cancer sentence. But, you know what? I think that my hatred of the poodle perm look I was sporting was about a lot more than just the poodle perm. I'm pretty sure it had more to do with a sense of loss -- loss of control, loss of my fertility, etc., etc. But then it dawned on me: God invented relaxers for a reason...and I should have one. And I did! And now, I'm happy to say, I'm in love. I really love my new hair. It's not perfect but you know what, it's pretty damn close. I finally look like my old self again after nearly a year and it feels good. I finally have a hairstyle that does not give away that I had cancer (...or just an unfortunate choice in hair stylist) last year and it feels good. And it has made a world of difference in my outlook.

So, that pretty much sums up the misery of Q1 and why you haven't heard very much from me lately. As for Q2, it's looking much, much better:

I've already covered the hair. I'll post a picture soon.

Thanks to a healed heel, I'm working out again regularly, which is both good for my mood and my waistline. I'm re-committed to the goal of completing the sprint triathlon in San Diego in October to celebrate my one-year wellness anniversary.

Work is more manageable these days and so are my personal finances, thanks to the super cool Excel budget spreadsheet that my favorite Excel geek made for me.

Oh, and I had my six month check-up with Dr. E and I'm pleased to report that I got another clean bill of health. My CA 125 is 12.4, which, while not my lowest level ever, is still really good.

Tomorrow afternoon I'm giving my first "patients teaching students" lecture to med students at Georgetown University. I'm doing it through the local chapter of the NOCC. The program is designed to help med students learn to listen to symptoms better and deliver bad news more effectively (er, sensitively?). I'm looking forward to that and will let you know how it goes.

In addition to all of that, I'm slowly but surely learning how to juggle everything again, which also feels great. This past weekend my mother and I co-hosted a shower for Ansley, my brother's fiance, which was a lot of fun. It felt great to entertain again.

So, that's how things are looking at just over six months post-treatment. Thank you to all of you who supported me during the winter of my discontent. You know who you are. Once again, I have the best family and friends.

D-Day Anniversary: Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Time flies when you're fighting for your life and then fighting to have life get back to normal!

I thought it appropriate to end my month-long hiatus from blogging to recognize the fact that today is the first anniversary of my cancer diagnosis. This isn't really an anniversary to celebrate but I do think it's important to note it -- for me and for all of those who were there for me last March 10. In many ways, it feels like just yesterday that my gynecologist told me the news about the "grave" situation I faced and in other ways, it feels like a decade has passed since this time last year. It's funny -- I don't think I've ever admitted this to myself or others but I think I knew everything I was up against the minute he told me that I had some sort of cancer. I didn't want to admit it at the time but my gut told me all along that my treatment (...and its aftermath) was going to be a rough ride and not something that would be over quickly. But I always knew I would survive it. And I have. And I will continue to survive it even on days when I struggle to understand how and why this happened and am pretty frustrated by some of the minor inconveniences and issues of my post-cancer treatment life. I'm just as determined on this March 10th as I was last March 10th not to let the cancer get the best of me...and on most days, it doesn't.


So, congratulations to me and my friends and family for surviving this past year because I know that it wasn't just a struggle for me but for everyone in my life.

Winter of My Discontent: Saturday, February 6, 2010

Yes, I do realize that I'm misusing this reference to Shakespeare (if you don't know what I'm referring to, look it up!) but it just seemed an appropriate title for the post since I'm pretty miserable on this blizzardy winter day. Why am I miserable? Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because:

I'm overwhelmed with nearly every aspect of my life -- from the things I have to do, to the things I think I should do, to the things I want to do. It's all just totally overwhelming to me. Totally. I would list everything -- which ranges from searching for all of my 2009 medical receipts in order to write-off my medical expenses, to writing long-overdue Christmas thank you notes, to launching the Junior Committee (fundraising committee) for the Ovarian Cancer National Alliance -- but honestly, if I did, you'd fall asleep before finishing the list. It's long and I just don't know where to begin.

I'm sick and tired of dealing with the Plantar's wart removal wound on my heel, which frankly, has caused me as much pain and suffering as my hysterectomy incision (just the incision, not the aftermath of the hysterectomy). Maybe more, actually. If you saw the bottom of my heal, you'd lose your appetite. Guaranteed. Despite its grotesque appearance, the real thing that's bumming me out is that it's keeping me from working out and everyone who knows me knows, that ain't good. I'm like a thoroughbred horse that has to be exercised everyday. Thus far, I've only managed about an hour and forty minutes on the stationery bike in the last 10 days. Not good. At all.

I know someone who has escaped this weekend of snowy misery (about 18" at press time) while I'm stuck here to shovel, pray that the power doesn't go out (I'd really lose it then!), eat all of the unappealing morsels of food in the house, and ponder when I'll be able to drive again. I mean, I'm happy for those who could escape but misery does love company after all, right?

My hair is growing back in a less than desirable fashion. I know I should just be happy to have hair on my head but I had such high hopes for how it would grow in and now, alas, those hopes have been dashed. My post-chemo hair sucks. Plain and simple. It's kind of wirey and very wavy and I have a curly rat tail developing in the back. Please see photo below and then try to tell me you wouldn't be equally miserable if your hair was growing in that way?

That's not me, by the way, but it's really that bad (check out http://rattaildreams.blogspot.com/ for some awesome examples of rat tails). And while I could cut it, it's going to have to grow someday so why not now? I'm so desperate about this situation that I actually googled, "How fast does hair grow?" last night and discovered that it grows at a rate of about .5" per month, which is what I thought. I can only imagine how great my new style is going to look for my brother's wedding in humid Charleston, SC during Memorial Day weekend, which is just a short 16 weeks away. I suppose if I'm really disgusted with how it looks, I could just shave my head and make Brenda join in the festivities. I miss Brenda! To clarify, I don't miss having to wear a wig but I liked that hair. It was the best hair - not style, just hair - I ever had and I miss it. I miss the texture. I miss the color. I miss it. Okay, I better shut up so as to avoid a "be careful what you wish for" scenario someday in the future.

I'm gaining weight. Everyday. Well, maybe not everyday but I've continued to gain weight following treatment and it's upsetting to me. I think I'm about 126 lbs right now, which is about 10-13 lbs lighter than my all-time high. While I know 114 lbs may not have been optimal, I really liked being super skinny and having much smaller hips than I've had since the 9th grade. I know some of the weight gain is muscle, as I've been working out with a trainer and swimming a ton, but a lot of it isn't. I'm still doing (or, at least trying to do...) the anti-cancer diet but let's face it, it's hard when you're social life is back in full gear. I really wish I didn't have such a wicked sweet tooth. It would all be so much easier. Sigh.

My constant hot flashes. They come at the most inopportune times and they interrupt my sleep. They just suck.

Yep, I think that just about sums up the list of my grievances.

Perhaps I'm starting to experience the post-treatment crash that so many cancer survivors experience when they re-enter the real world? It's a world in which their friends and family expect them to just pick right back up and resume life as normal because they look healthy again and aren't puking on a regular basis. But it's not the same world they left the day they were diagnosed. This new world is filled with a much different (better?) perspective on many activities of daily living, as well as a much, MUCH shorter attention span. It's often a lonely and frustrating place -- one that, as you already know, you really don't ever want to have to experience.

Or, perhaps, Old Man Winter has just finally got the best of me after the second consecutive weekend of crap weather? I mean how much snow can one gal raised in the mid-Atlantic region take? This is just not what we're programmed for. The occasional 4-6 inches that gets you out of work on a weekday? Sure. Bring it! But this?!? This is INSANE. And I think it's making me go crazy, slowly but surely.

What to do?

Well, first, I'm going to wrap up this rant because while it's therapeutic to bitch sometimes, I really need to stop wallowing in my misery. Second, I think I'm going to hobble outside to shovel again so as to make sure I can get out of my house if I need to for some reason. Although, what that reason would be, I can't imagine. And then, maybe, just maybe, I'll actually start to tackle some of the things on that daunting to-do list.

Wish me luck on both getting some stuff done and snapping out of it!

Reunited...:Thursday, January 28, 2010

...and it feels so good! Who or what have I been reunited with, you ask? Vicodin, my friend. We're back together for a limited engagement and I gotta tell you it's a happy reunion. I had yet another minor surgical procedure this afternoon, hence my reunion with vicodin. Fortunately, this one was not of the gynecological sort. I had enough of those in 2009 to last me a lifetime!

Here's the deal: I've been plagued by Plantar warts in my heel for the past couple of years (actually, they showed up at about the same time the first symptoms of my cancer appeared and that's probably not a coincidence...). I had a cluster of about 12 -18 in the bottom of my heel and while not painful, they were a pretty big nuisance. Frequently, it felt as those I was walking on a pebbly beach. Yeah, not cool, especially when spending a lot of time training for a triathlon.

So, I decided enough was enough and that it was time to have them burned out/off (nothing like smellin' your skin burn!) since all previous treatments proved unsuccessful. The whole procedure lasted just about an hour and a half and was relatively painless (thanks to about a dozen shots of some numbing agent into my heel...).

I'm home now resting comfortably in front of the TV with my leg up...and with my beloved vicodin in my system. As for the recovery, I should be walking without my surgical boot (it's really hot, let me tell ya) within the next couple of days and exercising again in a week or two.

That was the big excitement for the day. Perhaps now that I'm laid up, I'll finally find the time to post all of my holiday and BVI pictures...hmmm...we'll see.