Click Play for our song of the day:  “Stubborn Love” by the Lumineers

 

Images from our surgery tailgate party in May – New Orleans for Jazz Fest.  Sting (left) and Patrick and I taking a turn on the carousel at Hotel Monteleone (right)

Friends and Family, 

With another milestone behind us and one more looming I thought the time was right (overdue) for an update.

New Orleans

When I left you last we were on our way to New Orleans for Jazz Fest, which was exactly the escape we needed.  Let me shamelessly plug Patrick as an absolute Saint the day of the Sting show.  We hustled from the hotel to the Acura stage like a couple of schoolgirls in order to secure my coveted front row spot and were in position by 11am — for a 5pm show.  On top of this he was my beer and food sherpa, and had to make himself big to hold both of our spots when I needed to go to the restroom.

Thankfully, we had the gift of amazing music during this window including; Wayne Toups (sample below, you’ll need to pause the Lumineers), Davell Crawford, the Givers and Rumba Buena.

Link to Wayne Toups…and a glimpse of what makes this festival special

Surgery, May 3

This chapter ends well — despite taking a couple unexpected turns (more on that later). First of all, I am thrilled to report that the pathology came back clean for the lymph nodes meaning we caught the disease before it hit my internal superhighway.  The second piece of good news is that, despite the aforementioned unexpected turns, I recovered quickly and was able to get back to “normal” by May 25.

Now about those unexpected turns.

I stayed one night for observation after the surgery and was released on Friday, May 4.  Over the course of that weekend I was unable to keep any food down, was miserable and becoming increasingly more weak.  Even water sent me scampering to the bathroom.  By Monday I was readmitted to the hospital — it seems my digestive system had closed up shop (medical term Ileaus) which is a common side effect of abdominal surgery but can be very dangerous if left untreated.   It was at this time that I met my arch enemy….the Nasogastric tube (also goes by the alias NG tube).

Pictured here so if someone tries to come at you with one you can run in the opposite direction.  It is too late for me.  Save yourself.   

This little contraption bubbled up from hell and was sent by Lucifer himself.  It’s goal is to pull contents out of your stomach up through your throat and out of your (wait for it) nose!  Let’s be clear, this is torture not only for the patient but for your medical professional as well.  Can you imagine needing to shove a 28 inch tube the width of a crayon up someone’s nose and threading it all the way down to their stomach?  I am generally very agreeable but they had to call in the Big Dogs to get mine down.  I looked at the first lady like she had lost her freaking mind.  The Big Dog I referenced got it down driven largely by her ninja like moves.

I was in the hospital for another three nights in total with this little beauty coming out of my face while we waited for my digestive system to wake up, which it eventually did Thank God.

The only other unexpected turn was the finding that, even after surgery, I still have cancer cells in my abdominal region and the the best course of action would be chemotherapy.  I was mentally preparing myself for this as a potential next chapter but was immediately filled with a sense of dread at the idea of it.

But for the record, my new benchmark for physical pain is the NG tube.  If I can handle that I can handle anything!

Chemotherapy:  June through October

I am scheduled for chemo every 21 days beginning this Friday, June 29.  Each treatment will take approximately 7 hours to administer through a intravenous port I had surgically placed a couple of weeks ago.

Sweet Lord, chemotherapy is strong.  

Link to Chemotherapy 101

In short, chemo drugs (I’ll have 3 at a time) interfere with a cancer cell’s ability to divide and reproduce.  While kicking cancer’s ass I will have several side effects.  I have been given 7 prescriptions (4 for nausea alone) to help ward off the effects, however, one that there is no prescription for is hair loss.

What is the scariest part of chemo for me you ask?  Hair Loss.  I know this sounds super shallow, but I am dreading the idea of rolling around work like a naked mole rat in professional attire (turns out there is a children’s book on this subject!)

To that end I have decided to try to keep my hair.  This would not have been an option for me as little as two months ago, however, is now offered at my infusion center (thank you Florida Hospital Cancer Institute).

Link to the Cold Cap System I’ll Be Using

So there you have it — the Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

Silver Lining:  Dance Puppet Dance!

My tribe is willing to do anything to help keep my spirits up.  What do I have as evidence you ask?  How about the genius idea I had yesterday to buy five shirts that will match the one I am going to wear for chemo treatment number 1, send them to people and tell them they had one job:  to take a picture in it and send it to me as a cheerer upper.  So far, they are All In.

Ideas are being accepted for what I can get them to do for treatment 2!

Thank  you once again for your thoughts and prayers!  Cancer has picked on our family plenty — time to show it who is boss.

Love,

Dawn

“Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off your goal.”

– Henry Ford