Priorities

I need to get my priorities straight.
Here I am. midnight.
chemo begins in T minus nine hours. and counting.
and here I am. whining.
complaining.
cracking snarky jokes about fallin' off the wagon,
but they're trying to save my life.
Have I gotten SO adapted to having cancer that it's become an annoyance??
I've gotten so good at being a patient that I have forgotten I am actually under attack?
All day long, every minute of every day my cells are at war. They are fighting for their (or rather, MY) life, and here I am complaining.
How can I remind myself that I have a terminal disease which can (and chances are will) kill me, when I'm feeling so good?
Its been a nice couple months. I've been off chemo since february. And although I've been plenty busy with many many trips to hospitals, it was such a change of pace...the whole cyberknife thing...that I guess I just got too comfortable.
I got to accustomed to having my skin back to what I remember. To having my hair actually have a shine to it again, instead of the dull look from all the various chemicals coursing through me. I got way to comfortable not having any taste issues, and being able to eat and drink ANYthing at ANYtime I wanted. I was too spoiled to actually have fridays OFF.
Trivialities really.
Really.
Because in the grand scheme of things, why should I be so concerned with these trivial things when my actual existance is at stake?
I could die. very easily. very quickly. and with no notice. specifically FROM this cancer. any given moment or instance, this tumor growing inside me (or ones they don't see currently) can wrap around some key artery, or impede an organ's function, or anything. and next thing you know, no more Becca. I'm not exaggerating over overreacting.
But because I feeeeeeel good and healthy at this very moment in time, I seem to feel it appropriate to bitch and moan about the inconvenience of chemo.
Really.
Its an inconvenience. It gets in the way. It cramps my style. I have too much living to do to be bothered with sitting in an infusion room.
GAH I just want to SCREAAAAAM. Fuckin' chemo. I thought I was done with you! How did I ever manage to convince myself of that?
And so Here I am.
Here I sit.
at my desk. at midnight. trying to get my head right. And trying to organize my priorities.
It seems somethings never change.

Nothing Like Barium in the morning!

(on a sidenote, I am not sure why the frame of the videos i'm embedding from youtube are being cut off on here...you're not missing much with the other inch of screen in the frame really, but i suppose if you wanted you could click the video screen and it'll just take you the that video on youtube's site. If anyone wants to help me out on this one, i'm much obliged)

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!

Loss of a friend

I had so much to come back and write about. Past couple of weeks filled with ups and downs, and all kindsa in-betweens. But, I think this entry needs to be saved soley for the purposes of remembering a great great woman.

A dear friend, fellow calendar model, fellow colon cancer patient, and just all around goofy gal, Heather Maes, passed away wednesday, August 20th.

I'm still a bit of in a surreal world about it. So I figured in making this a tribute blog to her, I'd regal you all in some of my own personal tales of my friend.

When I flew in to Albany New York last year in june for the Colondar photoshoot, I have to admit, I was kinda dreading it. A whole weekend up in the boonies with a buncha cancerous people? Blech. Not my idea of relaxing. Sounded more like it'd be a weekend of prayer-ful "oh god lets be thankful that we have this blessing of being able to appreciate life" and wallowing in our pitiful cancer-infested lives. No thanks.
The moment I stepped off the plane, I headed straight for the bathroom (those of you that know me know this is always the first, and last stop for me before and after getting on planes). I had the cell phones numbers of the three other models who were flying in that day with me. We were all supposed to meet up for each other and wait til the last person got in, so we could all ride up to Lake George together.
But I thought "well, I don't really care to hang out so much, I'll just go do my thang in the bathroom, go grab some coffee, and act like I forgot the numbers."
While setting down my bags in the stall, my cell phone started going off. I didn't recognize the number, and figured it may be one of the other models. So i ignored it. A minute or two later, it rang again. This time, catheter in hand, and annoyed, I answered.
The voice on the other end was Heather. I didn't want to let on that I was currently standing with a tube about to poke it into my stomach in order to poop...hell, I didn't even know this woman. I simply said "Um, Hey, yea, I'm here, I'm actually in the bathroom...I'll meet up with you in bout 20 min." and thus began my friendship with Heather.
When I emerged all flushed and empty feeling, I found Heather sitting atop her bright pink suitcase at the bottom of the escalator, in her bright pink Victoria's Secret sweatpants suit. (how DO i remember these things?). Perfectly made-up face, and perfectly coifed hair. (i've never used the word "coifed" but if ANYone ever deserved it, it was Heather).
We clicked immediately. She instantly made me feel at ease that this girl was real. And that meant it probably wasn't gonna be a weekend full of singing "kumbaya" in front of a firepit.
She let on right away that she had an ostomy. So we got busy talking bout how we cope with air travel and an ostomy. We sat and drank coffee and made fun of the absurdly athletically-fit, super-toned and tan woman that randomly kept passing by our little table. (come to find out later that woman was another fellow colondar model. But at the time, Heather and I, both decidedly NOT as in shape, busied ourselves with being catty about her).

That weekend I got to know all my fellow models pretty intimately. And I made friends that not only will last a lifetime, and not only are like family...friends that have already proven to be miracle-workers, life-supports, and the best shoulders to lean on anywhere. I admired Heather, she was brave enough to bare her ileostomy bag to all the world to see. I know I bare my stoma all day long, but it's different than having a bag attached to that stoma. And for that, I thought she was amazing. Not only did she bare it on her photo, but when she caught flack for it later, she dared people to challenge her. I admired her, and then, I was proud of her. She was so regal and noble looking in her photo. So elegant.


I got to reunite with her again in person in Baltimore at the Colon Cancer Alliance conference. Her in her signature Victoria Secrets sweatpants suits :)
There was a costume party on opening night. And we were to dress as someone from our favorite decade. Who did both Heather and I show up dressed as? Why, Madonna(s) of course!

Like-a-Virgin and Vogue in the same room at the same time! It was obvious then how we were kindred spirits then. She also loaned me that wig and schooled me as to why blondes DO have more fun (well...sometimes)

That weekend was also Heathers birthday. We all felt so lucky that we could celebrate with her. Mark, one of the other models who couldn't be there, even Fedex'ed one of his cakes to the hotel room! (we made the girl at the front desk smell the box to make sure what it was!).

The next time I saw Heather was just a few months back, in March, for the Flush Out! colon cancer event in Indiana. She was looking fabulous as always. If anything, Heather was always our glam-girl. She knew how to work it, and work it well. She was always 10 times more pulled together than any of us. This photo was taken inside the limo ride to the survivors dinner we attended that weekend

(can we say Va-Va-VOOM!)
That weekend in Indiana, my world kinda came crashing down. I got alot of bad news all at once. And Heather was right there to pep-talk me through it all. Despite of how much of a sourpuss super-bitch I was being.
Later, in May, when I got word that I had a reoccurance. When getting the word out to my extended 'colon-fam', Heather was one of the first to reply to me. She knew exactly what I was feeling, and had the right things to say (which was to not really say anything at all, just know that I was angry, and had a right to be).
When hearing that Heather was not doing well and going into hospice care I had only one immediate ringing thought.

I had to see her.

Nevermind that I was going through chemo and about to have surgery. Nevermind that she lived clear across the country from me. Nevermind that she wasn't expected to make it very much longer. I just didn't care. I didn't know exactly why I needed to see her. I didn't know exactly what I would get from being there. I was cautioned by alot of people to rethink going. Besides I don't really have the money, and airfare to San Francisco was NOT cheap. Nevermind it all. I had one driving thought.

I had to see her.

One of my fellow colondar models Ray (see how everyone of these guys is just a lifesaver?) generously donated some money to me so that I could get the flight. And another friend of Heathers, Krista, and I flew out there last week. We visited Heather once last week, and once this week just before leaving. Again, I don't know what I expected, or what I wanted from the visit. I didn't know if it was purely selfish, or selfless. But I do know, that being able to hold her hand, and talk to her one last time, made the news that came this wednesday night just that much easier.

Heather is no longer in pain. She no longer has to put up the fight of her life. She did worlds of good in everyones life that she touched. And the title she recieved at the Relay for Life in may of "Survivor of the Year" couldn't have been given to a better woman. I want Heather around to make fart jokes and sing badly to Bon Jovi, for years and years to come. Alas, we don't always get what we want. And just knowing that I got to know her at all, will be good enough and yet never enough for me.

For now, These photos are how she'll always remain in my mind. The fiery attitude. That incredible poise and grace. And that awesome contagious smile and laugh. Heather...Hope you're reading my words somewhere in an internet cafe in heaven...send a shout out whenever you can, k?
Love
Becca

MY cancer's better than YOUR cancer!

Okay, call me a snot (and many do) but am I the only one getting kinda tired of hearing about breast cancer??
Now...don't get me wrong, it's a horrible thing to get. But as a colon cancer patient I feel like the red-headed stepchild of cancers. Noone wants to talk about colon cancer...b/c well, that'd mean talking about butts and poop (to put it mildly). But BREASTS! breasts are glorious....we must do everything in our power to save the breasts! The great american breast! So you have both men and women fighting to save the breasts. Sooooo much money and research goes into it. I feel smothered by pink ribbons. EVERYthing you buy donates money to breast cancer research. I bought a latte at my local coffee shop and the little stopper they put in the lid to keep it warm was a little breast cancer stopper!! You buy a mattress and proceeds go to breast cancer, you buy a power drill and proceeds go to breast cancer...SHEESH.
I feel like every celebrity who comes out that they have cancer...has breast cancer. Sheryl Crow, Melissa Ethridge, er...you know, a bunch of others. But who comes out as having colon cancer...uum....(drawing blank here). Oh yea, Sharon Osbourne. (actually, there are several other minor celebrity, or maybe some 'elder' celebrities, who's celebrity really doesn't count anymore).
Farrah Fawcett now has ANAL cancer *Which I have NEVER heard of referred to as anal cancer. Isn't it supposed to be Rectal Cancer...ah well, semantics.
But how much do you hear from her? Do you think she'll stand up and become a staunch spokesperson for getting checked early? I predict No. Why? She probably wants it to fade into the background when she's all said and done. After all, who wants to be known for having butt cancer?
Not me!
but oh wait...I did.

Now, thats not to say that I think breast cancer should not be researched. But I almost feel like it's drawing money away from other cancer research. Is that just my crazy chemo-brain at work? Maybe.
I just don't understand why some cancers get priority over others. Isn't ALL cancer bad? Shouldn't we be concerned with figuring out this Cancer Beast as a whole?
So my kinda cancer isn't as pretty...you have to talk about things like rectums and anus's and anal fissures, fistulas, sphincter muscles, stool (or "output" i like that...thats cute), and things that most people don't ever want to have to speak of in public. But it's an easily cured cancer when caught early. And it can be hush hush if you caught it early, treated it, and go on about your life.
But what is catching it early? Getting a colonoscopy at age 50? Well. I guess. Although if I did it at 50, well...lets say I wouldn't have gotten to do it at 50 if that was the case. I wouldn't have made it to see 50.
Who, at age 25, gets up one morning with no symptoms at all and thinks "Gee, it's a good day for
getting a camera shoved up my butt."
Shouldn't the fact that it CAN and DOES happen to people much much MUCH younger than 50 be publicized? If it is, in fact, so easy to cure early on? My cancer progressed to stage III before my 26th birthday. How long must it have been growing in me then?
Eh, I guess I'm a bit bitter today. But only b/c I see nothing but report after report on the news about Breast cancer. I feel overlooked. Without a voice. I suppose that is what finally spurred me to get my lazy (nonfunctioning) butt up and start blogging.

more to come.