Dichotomy

I was reading a book awhile back (granted MANY people have read this book as of late, as I do believe it's being made into a movie currently. still...this was bout 3 years ago). A part of the book the characters were discussing that everything: every being, every entity, every object, every city, every genre, culture, and individual has A Word. One word that in an overall average or medium...most accurately embodies that thing.

I'd say, for instance, Chicago, as a city...it's word could be "VARIETY" OR "PLENTITUDE". If you want something, chances are good you'll have ALOT of options for that thing in Chicago. I think it must almost be a subliminal bit of pride in some of us born Chicagoans knowing that we have so many choices.

But my word?? I'm sure at any given point in my life, my "word" could and has changed. We're transient beings, after all, right? And who more to be transient than my airy gemini as I am? (not that I could claim to really know so much about astrology. But i digress...)

So. My word? I think, at this very moment in my life, I am going with "DICHOTOMY"

A Dichotomy is any splitting of a whole into exactly two non-overlapping parts.

I have such a capacity for love, peace and serenity in me. A massive capacity for it, actually. It's difficult to reach that place, but it exists within me.

And at the very same rate, I have an immense capacity for spite, rage and seething anger. It's easier to reach, of course, as it always goes.

The path towards both of these places, within me, are vastly different. Obviously. But each require much the same amount of effort, regardless of how different the path is.
I can't say it's more fun to pursue peace, love and all that fuzzy warmness, anymore than it is to drift chaotically into hate, rage and blazing iciness.

Each path leads me to places that have different names. Different physical locations within myself, and different atmospheres surrounding them. Except with the common theme of ultimately just being a place in which I am alone. Utterly alone with myself.


Ssssoooo...your word is?

Thwarted.

It's been a lazy day for me. Not really because I wanted it to be. I actually had quite a few things I intended to get done today. It's friday, my one actual day off (don't take that to mean that I'm some sort of workaholic or anything, its not that I work hard...I just seem to be at work at least every day of the week, for at least some hours. Helps when you love the place you work though).
I digress, SO, it's my day off, and it just so happened to be an absolute GORGEOUS day, reaching near 80 degrees. Knowing that the end of April in Chicago could mean things as crazy as blizzards, I wanted to take full advantage of a full day off in good weather. I wanted to clean out my car, finish the hat I'm crocheting for a friend, bake a loaf of bread (heh....yea, i know. random. don't judge me) wanted to pick up yarn for a new baby blanket I will start, book tickets to new york for the OMG Cancer Summit at the end of May.
You get the idea, I had plans.
I had so many plans I almost forgot I had a doctor appointment today. You know why I almost forgot I had the appointment? Because I haven't had to see my Oncologist for (well, for me anyway) a stretch of time. What with being off of chemo, and my counts being good, I didn't have to see him while I was having my cyberknife stuff going on. Cyberknife is a completely different hospital, doctor, and staff, all in a completely different suburb than my Onc. Luckily, yesterday, the doc's office called to remind me.
No problem, I thought, I'll just scoot on over to see the Doc, and continue on about my day. I supposed I figure it was just a "Hey Doc, cyberknife is over now. For the moment I wait a month to get re-scanned and see how it worked. I'm feeling good, no real side effects to note" kinda visit.
My doc....has other plans.
I don't hold him at fault or anything, he is very dutifully doing exactly what I need him to do, which is worry about my numbers, my lack of treatment, and my potential cancer growing. He was nervous because my CEA counts were seen to be rising, and I hadn't been on treatment since maybe end of january or very beginning of Feb. I hadn't had a petscan since late december. The LOCAL reoccurance was hopefully being treated by the cyberknife, but he was concerned about two small spots on the ct scan seen on my liver. That could, of course, just be blips from the hiccup I had back in august with chemo-toxicity...oorrr....well, duh, we all know what the 'or' could be.
So he felt I should have my CEA drawn again, and have a scan tomorrow (saturday) and then come in to start chemo again a week from today.
YEEOOOWWZA's.
Should I be surprised? Nah. I mean, rightfully, noone ever told me I was never going to have chemo again. I was only really given a break to recoup from my skin reaction and to figure out exactly what to do next.
Should I be upset? Nah. It's happened time and time again that I come in to the office completely oblivious that I very well could be plopped in a chair right then and there, an IV plunged into my port and put on treatment right while sitting in the exam room. It's not like I'm new to this.
Should I be sad? Nah. The scan and blood test results aren't back yet, and I still am hoping for relatively good news from the cyberknife people. So theoretically, we're just trying to keep on top of things, rather than playing catch up later.

But either way, despite any of my rational thoughts, I walked out of the doctors office with all the steam let out of me. I felt defeated and punched in the gut once more. How many times have I felt that very same feeling? That feeling of "What. The. Fuck." Of "Why am I keeping on with all this? Everything that they do to me? It hasn't ended since it all began four years ago. No rest for the weary. Why do I keep at it?"

So instead of finished ANY of my aforementioned tasks...I attempted some retail therapy. (Being poor, retail therapy for me consists of Forever21 and/or a thrift store. cuz...well...I'm poor). That didn't really help as I mostly just wandered around the store and thought about how pointless it is to wear nice stylish, cute outfits...in the chemo room. But, a new pair of gladiator sandles, $2 pair of earrings, and 2 $3.50 tank tops later I walked back out to that previously mentioned GORGEOUS day to drive home. I felt maybe instead of retail therapy, maybe I could fool myself with a tasty indulgent icey coffee drink. Dunkin' Donuts called my name, but didn't fulfill any void.
After those attempts at distraction, I just came home. Avoiding all the various texts and calls. I came home, put my bread out to rise, and sat on my front porch to finish crocheting that hat. I still had that defeated feeling. That feeling of unmotivated listlessness. I tried to let myself cry. Maybe a pity party would help. I was angry and pissy and tired and worried and disappointed and...and...and...but tears didn't feel like coming. I think I was just too defeated to even make that effort.
Instead I just sat there. Watching the sky grow a bit gloomier, feeling the wind kick up, listening to my neighbors chatter away in spanish, smelling the sewage-y aroma of the canal a few blocks away waft over me.
It's going to rain. In fact, I believe its going to storm....badly. How appropriate for my mood, I thought....

Well, the entire day has passed, its a little after 10pm. I guess there's not much for me to say. or do. So, logically, the next step for my day of thwarted tasks is off to a Gypsy Dance Party. Naturally.

G'night.

Aw Video-Schmideo

(oh, and in case anyone is interested, the music in background is some awesome ukulele playing by Jake Shimabukuru)

The Girl with the Golden Cervix

"We're just going to implant a couple seeds, Fiducial Markers actually, around the tumor. They will serve as a radiological landmark to define the target legions position with millimeter precision, allowing the Cyberknife to treat the area with greater accuracy."
Seemed simple enough, no? Last week I went in to the Cyberknife surgery center to begin this process. Fun times, guys. Fuuuunnn times. I found that for as much as I've gone through. And for as much as I tolerate, they never cease to amaze me by the crazy sci-fi things they think up. Inserting a 12 inch needle into my butt cheek all the way to the front near the cervix and then just dropping off a little golden seed using the assistance of a ct scanner to see the needle inserting in real-time?? NUTS i tell ya!

Now, I realize that I've learned to go with the flow so much that I must've assumed this little process was gonna be a breeze. As people in the waiting room outside the CT Scanner can probably attest now...I assumed wrong.
I can't, for the life of me understand why, when choosing to do this to a person, do they not automatically just knock them out? I'm sure there must be some blatant obvious reason that I'm overlooking purely because it was ME having a needle shoved in my ass. But truly, looking at it now the entire process seems so barbaric given the highly advanced and futuristic thing that I will be having done to me with this CyberKnife.
Its times like these, that I do allow myself to look at who I am from a distance and give an approving nod. I actually am one pretty intensely tough chic. Normally, I cringe if I hear someone talk AT or TO me about how "strong and stoic" I am. HA! I'd neeeevver say that about my person. But then something like needle through the ass happens and I get to take the time to look objectively and go "Hot Damn I am kind of a badass."

So, what the hell are they doing to me with this Cyberknife? The best I can explain is they will be using this highly focused pin-pointed extremely precise radiation machine to blast that damned tumor into oblivion as best they can. And in order to do that, the Cyberknife uses those gold markers to track. Now that I've had the markers placed, and the follow up CT Scan done, I have been given the go-ahead and the physicists or whoever are hopefully busily plotting out my treatment plan. Its anywhere from 1-5 treatments total. Each treatment being around 1 hour. I hope to know this week what my schedule will be for the treatments.

That's pretty much the cut and dry basics. And all I have time to write up at this moment. Next blog I want to divulge my back and forth relationship with a thing called "Hope" and how this cyberknife has been injecting it back in my daily life, despite all my reluctance.

Much needed update (sorry. spank me later)

Hey friends and loved ones. I'd just like to clarify that i have ideas that i want to get out on my blog daily. Sometimes multiple times a day. And for some reason or another, I never seem to get to my computer when I have those ideas, and be the time I do, Facebook suddenly eats all my time.
So, with that excuse put out there for my poor updating ability, let me just launch into where I've been hiding. But first, a teeny update on livingSTRONG. In the summer, July I believe, LiveSTRONG and Nike had a street chalking event in front of the Taste of Chicago downtown. So of course...I had to flex my supreme lettering and spelling skillz!

(feel free to click on any of the photos to enlarge them for a better look)

I just had to knock one out for my buddies over at Imerman Angels, giving em some representation (was actually really impressed with my ability to recreate their logo freehand with chalk on asphalt)
And even Ro-Ro got in on the chalky love, giving some representation to her Aunt(s) and many others we know affected by Boob Cancer. (she definitely got some stops and stares at those killer titties!)

And of course, there where plenty of super talented artists who pulled off pretty massive and, detailed pieces.
But more recently, for the past few weeks (almost a month now) I was fighting more acutely for my health as I seemed to have a sudden, rapid, and intense adverse reaction to the chemo drugs (at least they think that's the cause)
Three weeks ago I went in to see my doc and things didn't look good. My eyes and face were sunken in, my skin was grey almost, but definintely sallow. And I literally wasn't able to do anything but sleep. My liver enzymes spiked up to crazy high levels. as well as my potassium level went way down. I lost a ton of weight. I dropped down to 98 pounds. But in the midst of all this, I had planned to attend the "Colon Cancer is a Big Dam Problem Walkathon" in Little Rock AR. I got the ok from my doc to go, probably mostly because my mom was going with, and two friends. so I had mom there to be my nurse. I wasn't even able to walk i was so weak, thin, and lethargic, so pretty much the whole road trip, i was in a wheelchair. But I was determined to go. It was great fun. And even though I barely look like i'm having a good time, I truly enjoyed meeting so many new awesome folk, specially all those newbie colondar models from the upcoming 2010 issue.
However, seeing photos showing up from that weekend on facebook, I was a bit horrified at how I looked. I know its trivial to talk about physical effects, but you all have to understand, I freak out when something odd happens to me physically because it just serves as an obvious visual reminder of the cancer I try to avoid for little bits of a time.

Making my entrance to Little Rock, don't i look like one happy camper?

Team Babcock rocks the house though!

Bam! Check out them backs!

All the past, present, and future Colondar Models that came back to walk the bridge.
Now, I got bag upon bag upon bag of IV Hydration, with Potassium, Magnesium, and other Electrolytes dripped into me, was taken off Chemo for a bit. I was taking potassium tablets, and just tryiung to eat and gain weight. So, I am pretty positive that I'm on the mend. I feel WAY more energy, and don't need a wheelchair to get around now. That was a scary and hard to deal with moment. To have to depend on everyone around you to push you around in your chair, it was hard for me to just accept it. The doc's can't think of anything to account for my sudden change, after ct scans, gallbladder/liver ultrasound, small bowel follow through, and upper GI xrays, CBC's, and CMP's they don't know for sure what it was. Our general theory is toxicity to chemo, in some form or way. But, before deciding to take a break, I did get the news that my CEA tumor marker levels had gone way down to 8, from somewhere in the 20's before (and ideally you want to get down to nothing. But colon cancer patients sometimes never get down to 'normal' even if they're cancer is technically gone. So I'm a bit relieved to hear that at least the drugs where working to some degree.
I'm taking this "break" to recoup, strengthen myself, and get ready for whatever plan they come up with next. And FULLY taking advantage of the last days of summer. Smoothies, ice cream cones, milkshakes, italian ice....if its cold and delicious, I'm ingesting it!

In other areas, my mom finally got her blue colon star tattoo touched up:
and then my two female cousinds Katie and Jenny both got matching tatt's as me n my mom, in the same spots. I'm recruiting and initiating my army. and these ladies have been official card carying members since day one. but now they can drop the card, cuz they're wearing it on their skin!That felt really nice, to have my mom and my cousins showing their support for me (not that I needed validation, but its a good feeling to have).

And finally, proof that I am feeling waaaaayyy better, this past saturday my grammar school had an unofficial mini-reunion. I haven't seen most all of these folks for about 15 years!! All I knew, is I didn't want to show up looking visibly on deaths door. Sooooo, I think I did a good job cleaning up, and steppin out for a night on the town.


My docs work wonders down they? ;)

Alright, thats part of why I hadn't updated, just wanted to get that out of the way. I have more blog posts written and saved, and just waiting to publish very shortly. So stay tuned, recruit friends to read, spread the word. I want to gain some readers!

Have you kissed your cancer survivor today?

So I hear that June 7th is "National Cancer Survivor Day". While I'm not entirely sure I'm buying into the cause...far be it from me to deny a little recognition of the absolute bullshit that I (or we, as survivors) are going through. Although, I honestly don't know if I really am all that comfortable in the role of "survivor". Its kind of an age old debate amongst people with cancer. Do you call yourself a Survivor? A fighter? A patient? Do you define your status, or avoid mentioning any "status" at all? I've heard arguments for and against all of the above. And they're all pretty valid. Some people can get rreeeaaaaallly touchy with the wording. Right down to how someone who's passed away from cancer is sometimes stated as John Doe "lost his battle with cancer yesterday..." b/c it makes them sound like they lost in the end instead of focusing on the strength and fight that they gave.
I dont think I ever got entirely comfortable with saying I was a "Cancer Survivor". The general public sure does love to push it on you though. And Just like other forms of labeling, you may not necessarily like them, but sometimes it's just easier to be able to classify yourself for certain situations. I've been in situations where I didn't really want the conversation to begin to focus on my cancer-journey, but I saw it heading that way, and it's just easier to say "oh, well y yes, I'm a cancer-survivor". Some people are so uncomfortable with the C-word they are grateful to be able to just nod admiringly and carry on the conversation in other directions. There sometimes happen those folks who will want to probe you further, but I usually have a set of generic answers for those situations.
(i.e. "yes, its very hard, but I have a great support system and medical team." and "How am I now? Well, I'm here and good at the moment, and that's all I can ask for!"...no matter how "good" I'm feeling.)
Anywho, I actually started writing this entry for a specific reason, and just realized I let myself start rambling...so I'm going to hijack it back to my original intent. Although I would love to hear your thoughts on labeling, the 'survivor' role, etc etc. I am sure I will be retouching on this in the near future. Considering I debate it to myself pretty much daily.

BBUUUTTT, Last night my buddy Jonny Imerman and his organization Imerman Angels held a "Survivors Celebration" at swanky "Martini Park" in downtown Chicago. It was an awesome event, with free cocktail reception, lots of well-connected individuals within the cancer community speaking, and networking galore. And, I got to showcase *drumroll please* My new Cancer Sucks shirts!!!!!
Yes Yes YES! You can now get on, completely customize the color of the shirt and the words of your shirt, making it your very very own. A very good friend of mine makes them right here locally and independently. He's graciously offered to donate proceeds to my Fund to help with all the ongoing medical bills. Go ahead and click below to get started customizing your very own...
Womens shirt's
Mens shirt's
Please please please spread the word on these shirts, they're great quality, and I don't think many would argue that it DOESN'T suck. Support your cancer survivor/fighter/patient/warrior/bitch/or badass. They make perfect outfit for a lovely visit to the doctors office, or your local infusion center, or even (as I so nicely model above) at swanky downtown clubs. Order and wear on June 7th!!