The Becca Corp....Now serving your area.

Yep, that's right.
I am your friendly neighborhood one stop cancer info shop.

okay, okay. I'll explain. It would seem that nowdays, whenever anyone I know has another brush with cancer, they immediately think of me.

I have gotten many a call, or email which inevitably begin with "My niece has been diagnosed with...." and usually somewhere in there will be a mention of "...and if you could tell me where I can get info about it..." or "...if you could talk with them about it..."

Now, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. I am usually quite honored that people think of me when they're trying to make sense of a senseless situation. It's flattering to be in a position where people respect your knowledge, and want your help.

The only drawback is...well...I can't always help these people. I guess before I was diagnosed, I wouldn't have known that all cancer is really inherently different. Of course, it's all cancer. And it's all bad. But it's almost like...(and I know, this is a pretty trivial comparison) allergies. You can have allergies to food, or to a substance, or to an element, or animal. But all those allergies need different remedies or treatments. What works for someone who's allergic to peanuts won't necessarily work for someone who's allergic to cats.

When someone tells me they're best friends little brother was just diagnosed with Luekemia. Well...I honestly know little to nothing about luekemia. I can tell them where I went for information. But I doubt that www.colonclub.com or www.uoaa.org would really be of help for a 12 year old with luekemia.

I have more general resources that I can pass on. And there are certain emotional states that are relatable to ALL major illnesses. I can certainly talk to someone about fear and anxiety, and all that good stuff. Body image issues, fertility, side effects...to a degree I can help someone come to terms with most of those topics. But as for cancer specific info. unfortunately, you sorta have to do that on your own.

So in a way, I feel good being that source of information for people. I hate when I can't be of help to someone. I usually do my best. But it's a strange phenomenon when you go from being just a regular every day joe (er...jane) to being that one person to go to for cancer info. I've suddenly become an expert in a field I never ever wanted to be...survivorship.

I suppose I'll wear the title with pride. I mean...hell, lord knows I paid for it (literally and figuratively). I just hope I can do it justice and when someone else who is in the same place I was in a year ago today...I'll be able to help.

And in the category of T.M.I.:

I know some of you may not want to see. But then again, I have no shame. And for those of you that are curious:
So that is it. The new diggs. See, tain't so bad to see. Nothing all bloody and gorey. Nothing too disgusting. Just a teeny little hole in my stomach. Big whoop.
The nurse at Cleveland clinic actually said "Wow, it's so tiny. You know what it looks like? It looks like a cigarette burn."
Not sure if that was something good or bad. But sooner or later, when I have more time, I'll go ahead and write a detailed account of my surgeries, and my new plumbing. For any who may be interested. Since, I guess, if you don't know me, a picture of a plastic tube coming out of my stomach might seem a bit strange. So fear not, if you are confused, just check back in, and I shall clarify for you.
Til then..

Tchau minha querida's!

The gift of....Cancer?

Those of you who actually know me in person (or as in person as you can get on, say, email or aim) know that for the most part, I'm a cynical person. I've got a pretty sarcastic and dry sense of humor, and am just kinda...well, sardonic.
That being said, what with being diagnosed with a deadly condition and all, lots of people have either pointed out to me, or I've read, that you grow to appreciate everything so much more after diagnosis.
You really begin to realize how relevant the phrase "Life is Short" is, and appreciate life in ways others simply cannot.
Now, I'm not saying that is not the case. I certainly know when to stop and acknowledge those moments when I'm truly enjoying life. Those times when you're just feeling good, not thinking in the future and just in the moment.
But I was watching some show on TLC titled (and I kid you not) "The Man Whose Arms Exploded". It was about Bodybuilders and steroids, but specifically followed some guy who had the biggest biceps in the world.Guinness Book winner, and a true freak (his own words, not mine).

So they are interviewing this dude about how he got so big, and was on so many drugs that he gave himself an infection from a bad needle, and developed a hematoma in his arm. So he tried to 'fix' it on his own by poking at it trying to drain it. Needless to say, it didn't work.
Anywho, my point in telling you about that is...I watched as they interviewed all sorts of bodybuilders and experts about what they referred to as "bigarexia". Sorta the anti-anorexia. The compulsion of these men to want to be bigger and bigger regardless of how they do it.

And I started getting really annoyed.

Why?
Because of the audacity of people with perfectly healthy working bodies to subject it to dangerous substances purely for vanities sake. Hell, here I am happy to be alive, and working on getting over having my abdomen sliced open and an asshole placed on my belly. And YOU'RE pumping yourself full of steroids for the hell of it?!?

It just got me thinking about all of these silly things people do to themselves in general. Plastic surgery, cosmetic surgery, body modification, etc. And all for what? Vanity? The need to fill some void in your life? Low self esteem? Daddy issues??

I suppose I'm very happy that I can adjust so easily. But that's not to say that, if given the choice I wouldn't take the option of just having a normal body with no ill treatment side effects, no surgeries, no weird new orifaces. And the fact that there are aaaaalllll these people who are seemingly ignorant and unappreciative of the simple joy of having a plain ol' normal everyday body...really grates my nerves.

So cancer should basically wake you up to life, and how good it is and can be (goes without saying it also shows you how horrid it can be). But I guess it gives you alot of other perspectives on life, and silly humans. I'll have to start documenting every "gift" this bastard cancer has blessed me with. Starting with the super-human ability to recognize how ridiculous our vanity can get....wait, can that be considered a gift?

The nitty gritty

First off...a big ol' HOOOOOOO-RAAAAAHHHH!!!! is an order, since at this very moment in time I am finishing up my VERY...LAST....CHEMO treatment!!!
whoooooooooo!!!

(can i get a Whooo? c'mon....whooooo!)

I was supposed to get it on tuesday. When I went in my white blood cell count was dangerously low. (1.0....a normal person is more around 11-14 range). They want you to have at least a 3.0 in order to get treatment.
So they gave me a shot to boost it (lovely Neuprogen). And I was to come back the next day to see how it worked.
The next day...it only went up to 1.3 (er? the last time my counts were so low and I got a shot, the next day it shot up to 10.6! I was sorely disappointed.) Ssooooo, they gave me another shot of Neuprogen. And told me to come back the next day.
So now it's thursday, I come back in, get my blood tested. It went up to 2.9. Now, remember, I said they want you to be at least 3.0 to get treatment. But my oncologist said I could go ahead and get it that day b/c he was afraid I wouldn't come back if he told me to wait til next week (oh he knows me so well...cuz I damn sure wouldn't!)
They just tapered back the dose of Oxaliplatin (the main biggie drug I get over the course of two days) to 80% strength, and I'll have to go back on tuesday to get my blood tested and make sure the counts don't drop too low after getting disconnected.
If they are low, well...it's more Neuprogen for me...but I DON'T CAAAARRREEEE!!! Cuz it's my last ooonnnneeee!!!
(heh, note the joy in all my exaggerated words)

Anywho, I thought maybe I'd share some pics with you guys. You know, a little taste of my life.

First up, the needle jammed in my port and all taped up:

(purty, ain't it? it's under the little yellow butterfly needle)

And here, my lovely chemo-ipod...and no, it doesn't hold nearly as many mp3's as my regular ipod:(hehehehe, don't you just LOVE the thrilled expression on my face? I <3 chemo so much.)


Soooo, tomorrow (saturday) I should be going in to get disconnected from my ipod. I shall update upon that event happening.

wheeee!

The lurker is beat at her own game

Drats! Just when I'm starting to have fun eavesdropping on odd bathroom conversations, I'm discovered!
By a child nonetheless...those crafty youngin's.
The bathroom convo from today:

Young Girl: LalaLAAAAAA (singing in the stall rather operatically.)
Mother: (from outside the bathroom) Marisol ....(something in spanish I don't understand).
Young Girl: (sigh) Oohhkay.
(I am trying to be very quiet. The girl is in the next stall from me. After several seconds...)
Young Girl: Is someone there?
Me: ....yea...
Young Girl: How old are you?
Me: ....26....
Young Girl: Oohhh...in college I see (which sounds pretty funny. Very wise sounding for an 8 year old)
Me: Nope. I'm well out of college.
Young Girl: (sighs again) Aw...I'm wrong again. Ah well...
Me (giggles)
Young Girl: (flushes) Bbyyyeee girl in the bathroom!
Me: Uh, see ya.

Young Girl: (now outside the bathroom) Mama..I made a new friend in there....



hehehehehe.....only me. Only I can make friends with an 8 year old girl in a bathroom stall without ever seeing her.

Disappointment

I just felt impelled to inform you all that Berry Rice Krispies do not deliver near the delicious-ness that I desired.

The Lurker

It seems these days I get to enjoy lots of quality time in the bathroom. And some of this glorious leisure time is spent in public bathrooms, much to my dismay.
In an attempt to appease myself that I have to be stuck in a bathroom so much, I've taken to really enjoying the random snippets of conversations (or rather just interactions) I overhear while stuck in a stall.
I feel very voyeuristic in these moments. Since most the time I'm in there for a good half an hour or so, many people come and go and never even know I'm there (I'm very good at being very quiet). So just be aware...be mindful of what you say when you think noone's listening. It just may end up on a blog about some girls colon ;)
So now...for my first installment of "strange bathroom chatter"!

Mother: Hurry up honey, mommy has to go REAL bad.
Daughter: Kay momma. Hey! look how yellow it is. The mailman's was green. And the firemans was orange. Mine is so yellow! Why was their's different?
Mother: Food coloring baby, now hurry up, mommy REALLY has to go...

Woman: (on cell phone, in stall) Hello?? You're fuckin calling me now? Look, I'm...I'm taking a shit. You're annoying the hell outta me. What? I dunno. Whitehouse or something. I'm hanging up.

Woman #1: (opening bathroom door) Hello?
Woman #2 (ironic funny pun in there somewhere): Yes, I'm here.
Woman #1: Things moving along okay in there?
Woman #2: Yea, slowly but surely

Teen Girl #1: Sarah, oh my god. I'm locked in!
Teen Girl #2: Um..well hold on, I'm almost done.
Teen Girl #1: (frantically jiggling lock) Ooohhh my ggooooooddd! Noooo....I'm stuuuuucck!
Teen Girl #2: Just hold on! It's no big deal.
Teen Girl #1: That's it. I'm crawling. I can fit...

Dad: (from outside bathroom door) Madison? Be sure to untie her pants.
Madison: Ew Daddy, the strings are sticky.

More to come!