When I first started losing my hair we knew it was time to tell the boys what was going on. The hair loss was going to fast and obvious so we wanted them to know it was going to happen and that I was sick but would be ok.
The next day I had this conversation with Jaxon:
Jax: Mama can I ask you a question
Me: Sure Jax
Jax: when people ask you about your hair falling out will you tell them that you are sick and not because your kids drive you crazy and made you want to pull it out?
Me: Of course!
Followed by both of us laughing out loud!
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Oh and they died.......
Here is a conversation that took place today:
Stranger: How are you?
Me: I am doing good.
Stranger: We were told what was going on with you and I was wondering how you were doing.
Me: I am doing really well.
Stranger: what medicines are they using?
Me: Herceptin and Taxatier (sp?)
Stranger: oh, they had my mother on that and hoped it would do good things for her. She fought it for five years. She has been dead about 10 years now.
Me: .......................speechless
This conversation took me completely off guard and I felt like someone punched me in the stomach.
I walked out with tears rolling down my face. I ran to the car and immediately called Barrett who is in England on business and repeated the conversation between sobs. He of course was mad.
I get that people still die from breast cancer especially when it has spread to liver/bones. I get it. I think about it every single day.
I get that it is possibly some round about way to relate to my situation.
But for the record - for someone currently battling cancer it is not ok to tell a story that ends with "oh and they died."
The only thing I can relate it to is when you find out you are pregnant and start sharing the news and you always have those one or two people who share their exagerated borth story of the the baby coming out sideways, face up and dragging their nails on the way out. Obviously as a pregnant person,especially with your first, these stories are the last thing you want to hear.
Same thing with cancer - no one ever wants to hear the story that ends with "oh and they died." And when you realize that those words just came out of your mouth it doesn't really soften the blow for you to try to nervously rattle off all the ways that my situation is different considering you don't really know what my situation is.
Yes, this is a bit of a rant and I apologize.
Rant over now.
Stranger: How are you?
Me: I am doing good.
Stranger: We were told what was going on with you and I was wondering how you were doing.
Me: I am doing really well.
Stranger: what medicines are they using?
Me: Herceptin and Taxatier (sp?)
Stranger: oh, they had my mother on that and hoped it would do good things for her. She fought it for five years. She has been dead about 10 years now.
Me: .......................speechless
This conversation took me completely off guard and I felt like someone punched me in the stomach.
I walked out with tears rolling down my face. I ran to the car and immediately called Barrett who is in England on business and repeated the conversation between sobs. He of course was mad.
I get that people still die from breast cancer especially when it has spread to liver/bones. I get it. I think about it every single day.
I get that it is possibly some round about way to relate to my situation.
But for the record - for someone currently battling cancer it is not ok to tell a story that ends with "oh and they died."
The only thing I can relate it to is when you find out you are pregnant and start sharing the news and you always have those one or two people who share their exagerated borth story of the the baby coming out sideways, face up and dragging their nails on the way out. Obviously as a pregnant person,especially with your first, these stories are the last thing you want to hear.
Same thing with cancer - no one ever wants to hear the story that ends with "oh and they died." And when you realize that those words just came out of your mouth it doesn't really soften the blow for you to try to nervously rattle off all the ways that my situation is different considering you don't really know what my situation is.
Yes, this is a bit of a rant and I apologize.
Rant over now.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Finding balance in the new normal....
When we heard the words "it's cancer" I think I literally felt our world shift. Barrett & I just stared at each other waiting for the doctor to look embarrassed, apologize for being in the wrong room and leave. That didn't happen.
I remember thinking "I am going to die."
I remember the car ride home in the rain being the longest of my life. I had two lists running in my head: 1. things I needed to do to live 2. things I need to do for Barrett and the kids in case I die.
I remember hugging the kids so hard that night that Bodie said "mama you are squishing me."
I remember going to bed that night worrying about Barrett and if I died how he would find a new wife when he already had fours kids.
That first weekend after we found out was such a roller coaster of emotions. But I got up on Monday with a new attitude, got dressed, went to work and had an appointment with my oncologist.
This was the new normal.
"Before" we juggled work, four kids, playdates, sports, school, homework, etc. "After" we have the same responsibilites but added appointments with the oncologist, breast surgeon, chemo, scans, etc.
The new normal.
I am truly exhausted at the end of every day. All I want to do when I walk in the door at home is go straight to bed (like I am right now) and sleep until the morning. That is actually what I did for most of November and December because I was in pain and it was mixed with exhausted.
Again, the new normal.
The only place that I find myself truly struggling right now is how to be a good wife and mother during all of this.
So many responsibilities have fallen at Barrett's feet to handle because he insists that I rest as much as I can. By the time he comes to bed at night I am beyond sound asleep. He lets me sleep as long as he can in the morning so I see him long enough to say goodbye and he is out the door. Yes, we work together but it isn't like hanging out together. I miss the days of watching NCIS or The Good WIfe on demand after the kids were down for the night. I miss the simple but important stuff. I miss what life was like before the word "cancer" was always on our minds. I hate that he worries constantly but doesn't want me know. I hate that I feel like I have messed up his life. I wonder if things will ever be normal again. Don't get me wrong, we are still a strong couple but a in a very different way.
I worry what impact this is having on the kids. Day to day they seem happy and "ok". But then I see glimmers of worry or being upset. I encourage them to talk about how they feel - the good and the bad. I felt bad when Bodie was so upset when I took the clippers to the little hair I had left. When I have a headache I can see the look of worry on Jaxon's face and I explain that it is a simple headache and nothing more. I wonder how much of this Copeland will remember - not much I hope. I worry about McKenna's future and if she is destined to go through this.
Sorry if this post is a bit of a downer - I don't mean for it to be. Sometimes putting my worries in words helps me sort it all out.
I remember thinking "I am going to die."
I remember the car ride home in the rain being the longest of my life. I had two lists running in my head: 1. things I needed to do to live 2. things I need to do for Barrett and the kids in case I die.
I remember hugging the kids so hard that night that Bodie said "mama you are squishing me."
I remember going to bed that night worrying about Barrett and if I died how he would find a new wife when he already had fours kids.
That first weekend after we found out was such a roller coaster of emotions. But I got up on Monday with a new attitude, got dressed, went to work and had an appointment with my oncologist.
This was the new normal.
"Before" we juggled work, four kids, playdates, sports, school, homework, etc. "After" we have the same responsibilites but added appointments with the oncologist, breast surgeon, chemo, scans, etc.
The new normal.
I am truly exhausted at the end of every day. All I want to do when I walk in the door at home is go straight to bed (like I am right now) and sleep until the morning. That is actually what I did for most of November and December because I was in pain and it was mixed with exhausted.
Again, the new normal.
The only place that I find myself truly struggling right now is how to be a good wife and mother during all of this.
So many responsibilities have fallen at Barrett's feet to handle because he insists that I rest as much as I can. By the time he comes to bed at night I am beyond sound asleep. He lets me sleep as long as he can in the morning so I see him long enough to say goodbye and he is out the door. Yes, we work together but it isn't like hanging out together. I miss the days of watching NCIS or The Good WIfe on demand after the kids were down for the night. I miss the simple but important stuff. I miss what life was like before the word "cancer" was always on our minds. I hate that he worries constantly but doesn't want me know. I hate that I feel like I have messed up his life. I wonder if things will ever be normal again. Don't get me wrong, we are still a strong couple but a in a very different way.
I worry what impact this is having on the kids. Day to day they seem happy and "ok". But then I see glimmers of worry or being upset. I encourage them to talk about how they feel - the good and the bad. I felt bad when Bodie was so upset when I took the clippers to the little hair I had left. When I have a headache I can see the look of worry on Jaxon's face and I explain that it is a simple headache and nothing more. I wonder how much of this Copeland will remember - not much I hope. I worry about McKenna's future and if she is destined to go through this.
Sorry if this post is a bit of a downer - I don't mean for it to be. Sometimes putting my worries in words helps me sort it all out.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Gone Baby Gone
So this week was a busy week. Month end at work, chemo, appointment with my breast surgeon - not to mention the every day craziness of life!
I see my oncologist for a check up before I go to infusion. I look good, blood work looks good and my liver numbers are good. Infusion went off without a hitch - check, check!
Thursday I went to see my breast surgeon for my monthly appointment. Pretty routine at this point but it is always a good visit because she tracks the size of the tumor in my breast and it is has been shrinking since I started chemo on December 2nd.
At my first appointment w/ Dr. L the tumor in my breast was 11cm x 7cm.
Six days after my first round of chemo the tumor was 2cm smaller.
Before my 3rd round of chemo it was 1.7cm x 1.3cm.
This visit it was GONE!! Yes - you read it correctly -G.O.N.E.!! Dr. L did an ultrasound and found nothing but healthy tissue!!
What does this mean? Since the breast tumor is the only tumor we can easily track from one appointment to the next the doctors assume if the chemo is working in my breast that it is working every where else.
What happens next? I have another pet scan on the 22nd to see the progress in my liver and bones.
Will I still have a mastectomy? Yes. My oncologist will change up my chemo drugs after the 6th treatment. I will stay on the the revised combination for 3 months and rescan. If nothing "pops back up" in the scan then we will decide on a surgery date.
This is a small victory in a much bigger fight but I will take it!
I see my oncologist for a check up before I go to infusion. I look good, blood work looks good and my liver numbers are good. Infusion went off without a hitch - check, check!
Thursday I went to see my breast surgeon for my monthly appointment. Pretty routine at this point but it is always a good visit because she tracks the size of the tumor in my breast and it is has been shrinking since I started chemo on December 2nd.
At my first appointment w/ Dr. L the tumor in my breast was 11cm x 7cm.
Six days after my first round of chemo the tumor was 2cm smaller.
Before my 3rd round of chemo it was 1.7cm x 1.3cm.
This visit it was GONE!! Yes - you read it correctly -G.O.N.E.!! Dr. L did an ultrasound and found nothing but healthy tissue!!
What does this mean? Since the breast tumor is the only tumor we can easily track from one appointment to the next the doctors assume if the chemo is working in my breast that it is working every where else.
What happens next? I have another pet scan on the 22nd to see the progress in my liver and bones.
Will I still have a mastectomy? Yes. My oncologist will change up my chemo drugs after the 6th treatment. I will stay on the the revised combination for 3 months and rescan. If nothing "pops back up" in the scan then we will decide on a surgery date.
This is a small victory in a much bigger fight but I will take it!
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