Finish Line!

223 days -- from the first day of chemo to the last day of radiation.  223 days of grit, determination, challenges, and a few tears.  223 days of being constantly amazed at the love and support that I received. 
Am I 'cancer free'??  Only time will tell -- but for now, we can consider the bitch's ass kicked! 

So what did I do to celebrate?  Pop champagne?  Go out to a really fancy dinner?  Nope... instead I chose to get my WOD on (Workout Of the Day) at the CrossFit X's Ladies Night with 24+ amazing women all cheering each other on.  It's been months since I've attempted any kind of cardio, but this was just what I needed to get back in the game. 

Sticker Shock

The medical bills are starting to trickle in and I've been getting notifications from my insurance company on other bills that they have processed.  Let me just pause right here to publicly thank my employer, SPIE, for offering such amazing health insurance!!  I've already met my deductible for the year, so as long as everything is approved, it should be paid at 100%. (fingers crossed)
In perusing the Explanation of Benefits pages, I start adding up the charges for my first month of chemo treatments (2 total, plus 2 of those Neulasta shots that were used to keep my white blood cells from plummeting too far).  Grand total just for that?  Over $20,000!  Are you kidding me?  Doubling that will get us to the end of February and I still have 3 more months of weekly sessions to go!  

So far, I'm feeling pretty good on the Taxol treatments.  My next infusion (#2 of 12) is tomorrow.  I still feel fatigued when I try to exert myself, but the dreaded nausea is gone.  Thank you Lord!  I actually felt good enough (ha!) to get up at 5am yesterday and get to my 5:30am CrossFit class.  I hadn't been to that group since January 3rd and if was wonderful to see the folks again, though my performance was definitely humbling.  The strength and stamina of old were gone - replaced with a weak, winded shadow of my former self.  But even though I only did half the workout, it still felt great to be back.  And the ridiculously sore muscles I feel today just make me smile.

Milestones

I reached a milestone yesterday... the last treatment (#4) of the 'A-C' (adrimyacin/cytoxcin combination).  And today will be my last Neulasta shot.  Now it's a 2 week wait while my body crashes and comes back to "normal", and then 12 straight weeks of Taxol treatments.  These (according to the infusion nurses) are a 'walk in the park' compared to the A-C treatments, so keep your fingers crossed.

The bummer is that I continue to have port problems.  The darn thing gets clogged and although the nurses can get the saline to push thru (because I can taste it), they can't get any blood on the return.  So we spend time while they inject some kind of 'draino' equivalent into it and then wait an hour for it to do its job.  In the meantime, they stick an IV into my arm to do my blood work (numbers have to be high enough or they won't go forward with the chemo) and start administering all the pre-meds.  I meet again with my surgeon, Dr. Kaufman, next week.  I think he just wants to make sure I'm still breathing, so I will definitely mention the port issue.

Last Wednesday night was "Ladies Night" at my CrossFit box.  It was my first attempted work out in over 3 weeks and boy howdy, have I gotten weak!  It was supposed to be 3 rounds of 5 different exercises, performed for a minute at each 'station'.  I made it through 2 rounds and was completely out of gas.  It's hard not to be disappointed, and it was a definite reality check as to how much these treatments really take out of me.  On the other hand, it was great to see all the ladies and feel part of that community again.

A Big Slice of Humble Pie

My support group never ceases to overwhelm, amaze, and humble me right down to the stubble on my head.
This Saturday, there is a CrossFit competition at a neighboring "box" (remember, we don't call them 'gyms') to help raise money for a local high school kid fighting cancer.  Members of the box I belong to (CrossFitX) are going there to compete, show support, and have a bit of fun.  I truly wish I was feeling strong enough to join them.
To show a bit of team spirit, the owner of CrossFitX had some t-shirts made and mentioned that there was going to be a "pink theme", in honor of me.  I was definitely touched.  Last night, lying in bed and doing a last scan of Facebook before I turned off the light, I saw post after post of my CrossFitX friends changing their profile pictures.  Our shirts had come in and the image brought me to tears.

Thank you Team CrossFitX for all of your love and support.  I am a better, stronger person - both inside and out - because of all of you.

The port is in place...

January 7, 2014

Is there any way to actually look cute when you're going into surgery? Good grief.

Today was a small surgical procedure to have a 'port' installed in the left side of my chest... basically it's a small device (about the size of a plastic water bottle cap) with a small catheter (or tube) attached. The catheter is guided under my collarbone and fed into one of my larger veins that runs directly to the heart. The port sits just under my skin and will be used by the infusion nurses to administer the chemo, take blood draws, and anything else they think of where they need to 'tap into me'. Basically, it saves them having to stick needles in my arm every week… and you gotta love something that comes with an owner’s manual.  J

The actual procedure went well.  They didn’t put me “out” enough that they had to intubate me, but I was out enough that I don’t remember anything.  Fine by me!

The funny part was when Dr. Kaufman went to talk to Neil after the surgery and asked him:
Dr. K: “does she work out a lot?”
Neil:  “yes, why?”
Dr. K: “her chest muscles were so tough, I had a hard time getting through it… she’s going to be a little sore tomorrow.”

So here’s a shout out to the coaches at CrossFitX for helping to make me ‘Strong Like Bull’.

Cancer Journey - Nov. 19, 2013

This was quite the day.  I knew something was up when Neil mentioned at dinner last night that the only time he could squeeze in a WOD was at 5:30am.  Uh huh.  And Hell just froze over.  :-)
Sure enough, when we arrived at CFX, I see pink streamers and pink balloons in the doorway.  As I walk in, I see the pull up bar apparatus wrapped in pink streamers, there is pink wrap around a barbell, pink balloons by the dumb bells and everyone that walks in is wearing pink.  And the people!  26 showed up for "Operation Pink WOD".  Unbelievable.  Shasonta was there and so was Alycia.  Aaron Lunde came wearing black tights and his sister-in-law's hot pink shorts... Jeff Kahn wore one of Heather's pink tank tops.  Bri had made a shirt that said "WODing for Michele".  To say the least, I was overwhelmed, humbled and oh so grateful.

When I got to work, my department was once again dressed in pink.

When I left for the day, Cathy presented me with cards and gift cards from folks all over the building.  Wow.  By the time I go to bed, I am literally on a high of good energy and prayer.  I  know I have this thing beat and I fall asleep thinking that with surgery, some recovery time, and a bit of radiation treatment, I'll be done.  Cancer?  Check.  Done.

 

 

 

The CrossFit Open

Good grief!  I've been horrible at posting!  Let's just say it's been a busy couple of months and move on!

So the CrossFit community participates in what they call 'The Open' - 5 weeks of workouts where you post your scores and the top athletes in the area go on to the 'Regionals' and the best from there compete at the 'Games' in Los Angeles in July.  The 'Open' is just that.  Open to anyone who wants to test themselves against the rest of the world and see where they stand.  I had no intention whatsoever of signing up.  Why should I?  I've never completed a workout at the prescribed weights - I've never done an unassisted pull-up - I've never accomplished a 'toes to bar'.  Maybe next year.
Enter Travis HoGlin -- owner of the box where I work out.  He successfully guilted the entire 5:30am class into signing up.  Way to go Trav!
The first week I was beyond nervous.. and then my dear buddy, Shasonta, told me "just treat it like any other WOD" and that made so much sense.  The first week was 17 minutes of burpees and progressively heavier snatch lifts.  With a ton of encouraging shouts from Travis, I completed the 40 burpees, 30 snatches, and the next 30 burpees.  The second week was 10 minutes of shoulder-to-overhead and deadlifts (75#) and 20" box jumps.  Week three was 12 minutes for 150 wallballs, 90 double-unders and, if you got that far, 30 muscle-ups.  Tossing a 14# medicine ball 9ft in the air 150 times just about did me in.  Again, it was the community around me that pushed me beyond what I thought I was physically capable of doing.  Pretty incredible.  Accomplished the dreaded wallballs and still had 30 seconds to stumble thru 6 double-unders.  Week four was short and heavy.  7 minutes to do a progressive ladder of 95# clean and jerks and toes-to-bar.  I walked into the box that morning not knowing what to expect - but was determined to try my best.  Shockingly, the heavy clean and jerks went well.  Then it was on to the bar.  For 6 minutes I hung there trying.  I would get so close, but couldn't get the toes to touch.  It was so frustrating and I could feel the tears building up.  Again, it's those crazy people cheering you on that won't let you quit.  With just 30 seconds left, I swung up and *BAM* my toes hit!  My partner (and the box owner's wife) screamed so loud I think it scared the hell out of everyone there, but we were so damn excited.  I cried, she cried, we hugged each other.. and then there's Dan the coach yelling at me that I still had 15 seconds left, so get up there and get another one!  I finished the workout with only 3 clean and jerks and 3 toes-to-bar, but I may as well have run my first marathon.  It was one of those 'you had to be there' moments.
So Wednesday they will announce the final Open workout for 2013.  Whatever it is, I'll walk in and try and my best and be proud that I competed.  That for the first time in my 45 years, I can call myself an athlete.