take a picture of your life. remember what it looks like, before it all changes.

This is the fam April 2010 during Spring Break. The boys came to snuggle in the morning and Josh and I were thrilled to still be in bed at 8. I had to have a picture of how good it feels to be sandwiched between all those sleepy bodies.

Have you heard that quote before? I don't know why I keep thinking "A year ago...." I guess because things can change so fast. And maybe, if they can change for the worse, then they can change for the better?

It's been a pretty low-key spring break, but thanks to grandmas and the neighborhood gang, the kids had a great time. I spent a good portion studying biochemotherapy, which is what I'm hoping I can get after I heal. I don't know, I see why they wouldn't do it yet. But I can't help wanting to do something. I see the Dr. Tuesday for more staple removal and discussion.

Drain was pulled yesterday and I walked around Target today with no problems. Crazy how much improvement there is every day.

Awesome body that can heal itself so well, kill the dang cancer while you're at it please!

willn't

The Dr. appointment today was less than exciting. He said he will talk to the board this Thursday about me. He said my leg is healing up great, and that I should get the drain out this week.

Today's mantra was "I surrender to Hope." I don't really know what this means, but it sounded right this morning when I opened my window to purple bulbs, next to green grass, in front of snow-covered mountains, under a clear blue sky, holding a bright yellow sun. And in the background the singing of birds, and the echos of kids. Spring at last! And all It's influence!

I believe I have purple hair here and semi-symmetrical legs.

Last night my five year old asked if they cut my cancer out all the way. "They got all they could find. They just worry because it might come back." "I think it willn't come back." "Willn't?" "That is a word you make when you put together 'will' and 'not'."

Iloveyoulukemorethananythingeverintheworld. That is the word you make when you put together what I feel every time I look into those dang cute, dark brown eyes.

If will has anything to do with this....

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.

lucky me

They didn't find cancer anywhere else. Great news! The Dr. is recommending just watch and wait. He will take my case to 'the board' with the oncologists and other melanoma surgeons and let me know Monday what they say.

I know it is not likely this thing is cured by surgery.

So I go over the What Ifs all the time. Most of them depressing. Everything that comes along with What If I die.

But I keep coming back to What If I live? What If I feel good this summer? What if I don't have cancer? What If I get to go everywhere I always wanted to go? What if life just gets better? What If I get to be anything I choose to be? What if I get to send my kids to college? What If I get the be an old lady? What If I live so long spring gets old?

Are those the possibilities everyone wakes up with? Lucky everyone! Lucky me that I even have a chance at that. Wow.

i've come to my senses

Turns out I don't even need Lortab (so far). I am walking around just fine. They cut a nerve during surgery 4 years ago, and I haven't had feeling in the thigh since, so I'm sure that's helping. And they didn't mess with a muscle (they had to move one last time to cover up my artery). Anyhow, I am feeling great.

The Dr. said he had a pathologist looking at the tissue he was cutting out to make sure they got it all, and assured us we had clear margins. He said the tumor was hard to find, even after he had taken it out in a large chunk. I was pretty happy about that.

As he was cutting on some of the old scar tissue, he could tell the scar tissue wasn't getting any blood supply, so he went ahead and cut out the entire foot-long scar above the tumors. Just thought I would share some of these lovely images. And all my good news. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers, they seem to have really paid off. I am in great spirits.

Tomorrow afternoon we will see what the pathologist had to say. My guess is that if they only see cancer in the tumors, the Dr. will say we just do what they call 'watch and wait.' Scan every 3 months and see if I am a lucky one who has it taken care of by surgery. If it is in the nodes or leaking out of the tumors they might recommend some other type of treatment. I am finally informed enough (3 hours a day on the computer researching melanoma) to think that maybe watch and wait would be okay. It is not my first choice, but that is the standard of care. The problem I'm having is that the standard of care is not having great success. They think wait to use the toxic treatments until I need them (stage IV). And hope I don't need them.

Post-op

I am out of surgery. The incision was bigger than planned. I came home with a drain in my leg :(

I will go see the doctor tomorrow and should have results then.

I am grounded from blogging on loritab.

back to the drawing board

Kind of left this on a bad note. Things got better, and I had a lovely weekend. Lots of nerves today while waiting for this afternoon's randomization. Nurse just called. I got put on the GMCSF arm (the one I didn't want)! A bit bummed, I really thought I would be doing the vaccine. Only 1/3 of the people get the GMCSF, but I'm good at beating odds. I knew I would drop out the trial if this was the arm I was put on.

So. Surgery on Tuesday. Stoked about that. Now to find something I qualify for after to take care of any cancer cells floating around....