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.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
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!
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Moments like these
Our 5 year old son Bodie is a character. He is very animated, very expressful and just a hoot in general.
Last week he had his admission interview for Kindergarten. The night before he hurt his knee wrestling with his brothers so the long walk across the parking lot seemed like the gaunlet (not to mention we were running late). I asked him if he would like me to carry him and he answered with a resounding "YES!"
I picked him up and started to walk and as I did I looked as his face and he was literally grinning from ear to ear. I asked him why he was smiling so big and this is the conversation that followed:
Bodie: Mama, do you remember a couple months ago when you couldn't pick me up because it hurt so bad
Me: Yes Bodie, I remember
Bodie: Now you can pick me up! Do you know what that means?
Me: What Bodie (expecting a silly response)
Bodie: It means you are getting stronger which means you are getting better.
He followed that up with the best neck-squeazing hug ever!
I think that sometimes we as parents (I think all parents are guilty of this at some time or another) don't give our kids enough credit for understanding what is going on around them. We have had "the talk" about what is going on with me medically but it isn't until moments like these do we understand how much they absorb, understand and process these real life conversations.
I can honestly say that I am proud of our children for the way they have handled everything so far. Of course there have been tears and anger but we have had far more giggles and hugs and that is how we intend to keep it.
Last week he had his admission interview for Kindergarten. The night before he hurt his knee wrestling with his brothers so the long walk across the parking lot seemed like the gaunlet (not to mention we were running late). I asked him if he would like me to carry him and he answered with a resounding "YES!"
I picked him up and started to walk and as I did I looked as his face and he was literally grinning from ear to ear. I asked him why he was smiling so big and this is the conversation that followed:
Bodie: Mama, do you remember a couple months ago when you couldn't pick me up because it hurt so bad
Me: Yes Bodie, I remember
Bodie: Now you can pick me up! Do you know what that means?
Me: What Bodie (expecting a silly response)
Bodie: It means you are getting stronger which means you are getting better.
He followed that up with the best neck-squeazing hug ever!
I think that sometimes we as parents (I think all parents are guilty of this at some time or another) don't give our kids enough credit for understanding what is going on around them. We have had "the talk" about what is going on with me medically but it isn't until moments like these do we understand how much they absorb, understand and process these real life conversations.
I can honestly say that I am proud of our children for the way they have handled everything so far. Of course there have been tears and anger but we have had far more giggles and hugs and that is how we intend to keep it.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
What to say.....
When people who don't know me well see me (like in the hallway at the boys preschool) they look at me and then look away. It's like there is an elephant in the room and I am the elephant.
Today it was very refreshing when one of the mom's simpy looked at me and said "how are you?" I could tell that she was truly concerned and it wasn't an attempt to make small talk. I told her that I was feeling great, my doctors are thrilled with my progress and very optimistic. She went on to tell me that she has wanted to ask but didn't know what was "appropriate".
Later in the day I received a facebook message from a mom of one of Jax's preschool friends that I haven't talked to in quite a while. She told me that she had debated on whether or not she should send me the message. She told me that she has been reading this blog and my facebook posts and had been praying for me and for our family and that I was in her thoughts daily.
Both instances made me smile today. Ok, I'm not going to lie, I teared up a little too. Good tears though.
I understand that people don't know what to say, afraid they are going to say the wrong thing or ask a question that has an answer that includes bad news. I understand that people want to ask questions but don't want to be intrusive. I even understand that people look at me and think "thank God that isn't me".
I want to just let everyone (you know, the five people who read this blog) that I appreciate every "how are you, you are in my thoughts, I prayed for you" that I hear - it means you care and for that I am grateful.
If you have a question - ask it - you know me, I will be honest and tell you if it is too personal. But asking a question means you care and I would never fault anyone for that.
Even if you don't know what to say - it is ok to say exactly that.
I continue to feel great without taking any pain medication! I still battle fatigue and insomnia (great combination) but I can't really complain because the side effects could be alot worse.
Thank you for caring about me. Thank you for caring about my family.
xoxoxo Jen
Today it was very refreshing when one of the mom's simpy looked at me and said "how are you?" I could tell that she was truly concerned and it wasn't an attempt to make small talk. I told her that I was feeling great, my doctors are thrilled with my progress and very optimistic. She went on to tell me that she has wanted to ask but didn't know what was "appropriate".
Later in the day I received a facebook message from a mom of one of Jax's preschool friends that I haven't talked to in quite a while. She told me that she had debated on whether or not she should send me the message. She told me that she has been reading this blog and my facebook posts and had been praying for me and for our family and that I was in her thoughts daily.
Both instances made me smile today. Ok, I'm not going to lie, I teared up a little too. Good tears though.
I understand that people don't know what to say, afraid they are going to say the wrong thing or ask a question that has an answer that includes bad news. I understand that people want to ask questions but don't want to be intrusive. I even understand that people look at me and think "thank God that isn't me".
I want to just let everyone (you know, the five people who read this blog) that I appreciate every "how are you, you are in my thoughts, I prayed for you" that I hear - it means you care and for that I am grateful.
If you have a question - ask it - you know me, I will be honest and tell you if it is too personal. But asking a question means you care and I would never fault anyone for that.
Even if you don't know what to say - it is ok to say exactly that.
I continue to feel great without taking any pain medication! I still battle fatigue and insomnia (great combination) but I can't really complain because the side effects could be alot worse.
Thank you for caring about me. Thank you for caring about my family.
xoxoxo Jen
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Another Treatment Down......
Friday was treatment day.
It starts with a blood draw, vitals and visit with my Oncologist.
Dr. C was thrilled that my liver numbers are back to normal, I am producing red blood cells and the breast tumor is "tiny". He said that he saw my breast surgeon the day before and she was "giddy" with my progress! For doctors that deliver bad news on a daily basis this was absolute music to our ears. He said that we should assume if the medicine is shrinking the breast tumor then it is safe to say that it is working every else.
I will have another full body scan after my 4th treatment. Surgery will come some time after my 6th treatment.
After I see Dr. C I go downstairs to infusion. Basically I sit in a cubicle type of set up in a recliner with a tv and a blanket. After they access the port in my chest (hurts just as the needle goes in) and they hook up the iv meds I just chill out for about two hours. People have asked if it feels weird or if I feel anything at all during the infusion - the answer is no.
The infusion area is really big with alot of people in/out while I have treatment. I see a few familiar faces every time. It is like a club that none of us ever wanted to be a part of but we are so we have some unspoken bond.
I don't like Barrett to stay with me during treatment. It's nothing personal but I feel like he can be doing something much more productive then sitting in a cubicle staring at me. I know he doesn't like leaving me but I like the "alone" time - you know as much alone time as you can have with 50 other people in the room.
Saturday I went and picked up the wig that I ordered. Last week I went to a place here in Plano called Survivor Girls. They specialize in wigs, hats, turbons, etc. It was a surprisingly easy process. They really took the time to help me find something I liked and was close to my natural hair. I wore it all day on Saturday while running errands but I feel like I have a flashing sign above my head screaming "WIG, WIG, WIG". Barrett likes it - Bodie hated it and cried. Jax said "mama it looks beautiful". So the final verdict is still out.
I realize that in the big picture that my hair should be the least of my worries but a girl's hair is part of their identity and it has really been hard to lose it. I also think that so much of what is going on is out completely out of my control and I want to look "normal" and am having trouble adjusting to the new normal.
Overall things are going very well and we continue to focus on the positive and work through the hard stuff as a family.
It starts with a blood draw, vitals and visit with my Oncologist.
Dr. C was thrilled that my liver numbers are back to normal, I am producing red blood cells and the breast tumor is "tiny". He said that he saw my breast surgeon the day before and she was "giddy" with my progress! For doctors that deliver bad news on a daily basis this was absolute music to our ears. He said that we should assume if the medicine is shrinking the breast tumor then it is safe to say that it is working every else.
I will have another full body scan after my 4th treatment. Surgery will come some time after my 6th treatment.
After I see Dr. C I go downstairs to infusion. Basically I sit in a cubicle type of set up in a recliner with a tv and a blanket. After they access the port in my chest (hurts just as the needle goes in) and they hook up the iv meds I just chill out for about two hours. People have asked if it feels weird or if I feel anything at all during the infusion - the answer is no.
The infusion area is really big with alot of people in/out while I have treatment. I see a few familiar faces every time. It is like a club that none of us ever wanted to be a part of but we are so we have some unspoken bond.
I don't like Barrett to stay with me during treatment. It's nothing personal but I feel like he can be doing something much more productive then sitting in a cubicle staring at me. I know he doesn't like leaving me but I like the "alone" time - you know as much alone time as you can have with 50 other people in the room.
Saturday I went and picked up the wig that I ordered. Last week I went to a place here in Plano called Survivor Girls. They specialize in wigs, hats, turbons, etc. It was a surprisingly easy process. They really took the time to help me find something I liked and was close to my natural hair. I wore it all day on Saturday while running errands but I feel like I have a flashing sign above my head screaming "WIG, WIG, WIG". Barrett likes it - Bodie hated it and cried. Jax said "mama it looks beautiful". So the final verdict is still out.
I realize that in the big picture that my hair should be the least of my worries but a girl's hair is part of their identity and it has really been hard to lose it. I also think that so much of what is going on is out completely out of my control and I want to look "normal" and am having trouble adjusting to the new normal.
Overall things are going very well and we continue to focus on the positive and work through the hard stuff as a family.
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