Sunday, April 10, 2011

cancer is not pretty


I'm reminded of this every time I look down. This isn't even half of it. Sure glad I got over having gorgeous legs last time around, cause this incision just keeps on going. Up to my hip. I know my nurse friends will appreciate this photo. Note drain sticking out of nowhere sucking up blood. And large suture (there is another further up) holding the dang thing together, otherwise they say it is so long the staples would pop right open. Yuck.

I have very little pain right now, and some more nerves must have been cut as I have no feeling in the knee, and I wonder if that is why I am limping. I am not even taking Tylenol as regularly as I should be. I am just supposed to keep it elevated as much as I can to keep the swelling down.

I told my 5 year old he was going to have to wash his hair all by himself in the bathtub the other night because I couldn't bend down to help him. He looked at my legs. "Do you have cancer in your other leg?" "No." "Well, then you can just hop on that leg to the bathroom and bend down with your cancer leg strait in the air." This is something I hadn't considered. I guess I have no excuses.

Cancer survivors usually have to live with some sort of after effects from their treatments. I developed lymphedema in my leg from my last surgery. It is essentially chronic swelling caused by surgical excision of, or radiation to, lymph nodes. It is found mostly in breast cancer patients in their arms. I was so devastated when I was diagnosed. Don't google it-the pictures are terrifying. I have taken very good care of it, wearing a compression stocking every day, wrapping it with bandages occasionally, and exercising. I really had it under control. You would never know. I always wear pants and long skirts. It was a hard adjustment. But I made it.

I talked with a girl who had cancer in her leg as a teenager. She is unable to pick up her leg (like to climb a stair) from her surgeries, and walks with a slight limp. I really enjoyed our conversation. She understands what it feels like to be told "it's a small price to pay for your life!" Which is true, so true. But sometimes that price seems big. After all, it is a part of you. And it's forever. Suddenly you are different. Different than everyone else, different than you were. Even if it's just the ability to wear capris, high heels, or go around bare feet. You still grieve the loss of how things were. And for a lot of us, how things looked.

But trust me, right now I do not care how things look. My vanity burned up long ago. I just need this leg to heal!

Loved the scripture I read this week saying He shall arise "with healing in his wings." I wouldn't mind some sort of swoopage down right about now.

18 comments:

  1. Amen to that! When I asked Josh about how you were feeling, he cursed the drain. Now I know why. I am glad that overall you are doing well. Carrie Newman gave the sweetest prayer in Relief Society today petitioning the Lord for a miracle for you. We were all in tears because the Spirit was palpable. YOU ARE LOVED!!

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  2. OH.MY.WORD! You are one tough amazing cookie! Love you!

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  3. I'm Terri your Dad's cousin that you met in Provo Canyon. What you said about being different reminded me of Grandma Amacher. She wore long dresses and had her shoes especially made in Switzerland because one leg and foot was so deformed. This was when everyone wore short dresses. I think you are handling this cancer thing so well and are an inspiration to us all. As a nurse, I did like the picture! Hang in there.

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  4. You can't leave a day in our ward anymore without an overwhelming understanding that the Lord is so mindful of you and we are all praying for your miracle. The Bishop had tender words today...I'm sure Josh told you. We all love you and have faith that great things can happen for you...

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  5. Thank you my sweet ward, I wish I could have been at church today! Thank you for your prayers and fasting. I could not ask for a better place to be right now.

    Terri, I made that connection this year while listening to my Grandma's history. Was it a wedding she got to wear a beautiful floor length dress for and didn't feel awkward? I felt close to her immediately.

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  6. Praying for swoopage—that looks so painful! I love the hopping comment.

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  7. Even though it is Steven who is going to have these cancer of aftereffects, I found myself crying so hard yesterday thinking about the loss.

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  8. Oh my goodness, you are a strong girl Alisa!

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  9. Alisa,

    It's your cousin Eric. I had a memory the other day that I thought might bring a smile to your face...
    ..."Schmeer on baby. Schmeer on!"
    Don't know if you'll remember it. You and Jon Paul and I were on the roof of your house swapping horror stories. Good times!
    Emily and I read your blog faithfully and pray for you often. You're gonna have a killer scar! I have one on my shin that looks nasty. Anytime someone sees it they ask me how I got it. I tell them a shark bit me while snorkeling in Hawaii. (Running into a flower pot just doesn't hold the same excitement). You though, you've got it made. Cancer is attention-retaining enough, but if you get bored with it, you're shark was probably much bigger than mine. We love you.

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  10. One other thing that creeped me out... If you look at that picture right, it doesn't look like there is a body attached to it. It very much looks like that scar leads to a good severing.

    By the way, I hope my comments are bringing you some giggles and not just seeming extremely insensitive...

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  11. I actually have a full length dress that belonged to Grandma Amacher. She always wore long dresses with long sleeves to cover the scars on her legs and arms. My mother always said she would have loved for long dresses to be in fashion but the never were during her life. I'll have to get that dress to you Alisa just for fun. And I would love to see you hopping with your cancer leg straight in the air - now that is exercise!

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  12. That will be quite a battle scar when it heals. It was great to see you last week. You are in our prayers and thoughts. Thanks for sharing your experience through the blog.

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  13. Eric, giggle of course. Schmeer on baby. Kathy, I would love to see it. Brad, thanks for the visit. Josh and the boys would love to go see the Northwest, we might have to take you up on your offer.

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  14. Alisa Im glad your keeping this blog! It helps me REMEMBER the important things we learn as we go through awful stuff like this. Sometimes when life gets back to "normal" (which it never really does when you have cancer) you forget all those important lessons and blessings you receive. I'm grateful to you for reminding me of those things. Thanks

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  15. I also totally understand the grieving part! I grieve all the time about how I wish I could run, do things like I use to and enjoy things the way I use too. I feel like I live my life with so many limitations and that its turned me into a boring person. It's made me way to cautious in life. I guess we do what we have to to survive!

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  16. Well, I always did wonder how big the cut was and now I don't have to wonder any more. And there are reasons why I am not a nurse. But thanks for putting an end to the question.
    So, you walked around Target???

    You are strong and beautiful!

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  17. And yes, the prayers etc. for you were powerful last Sunday.
    Our family all fasted for you.

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  18. ahaha i love your story about the hair washing :)

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