Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted.

Everytime I post a blog, I use some bumpersticker of t-shirt I've seen for the title. I think these things are funny, they make me smile, and I wonder if they'll do the same for you. You see, over the last 9 months or so, this blog has become a big part of my life. My doctor doesn't like for me to go out in public much, says to limit my exposure to people as much as possible, wear a mask when I go places like the clinic or the hospital, and avoid places where there are lots of kids. So I've become a recluse. I never thought it would happen, but I'm in my warehome, out of a 7 day-week, about 24 hours 5 of those days. I might leave to go get something to eat, and some days we go to the store, or Target, or Ikea, or Home Depot. If we go somewhere and I've got to be on my feet for more than twenty minutes, we have to go somewhere that has a wheelchair. I'll probably eventually get a wheelchair so this doesn't become a hassle. But this is my life. I paint almost everyday. Somedays I paint a couple of pictures. I don't watch tv. I don't talk on the phone much. I walk my dog outside twice a day, and sometimes take pictures of things in my neighborhood. Sometimes I walk to the store and window shop by myself. Most days I work on the house and don't leave until it's almost dark. I have become a level 5 recluse.

What does this mean to you? I don't know. What I want it to mean is this: understanding. I have a wonderful life. There's nothing about this life I would change. Nothing. If you wonder why my posts can be so boring, that's why. If you wonder why I talk about home improvements so much, that's why. But I'd change nothing about this year. Nothing. Just like it is, today, everyday for the last 9 months, I'm okay with. I don't want to live this way forever; I want to go out and get a job and have a normal life again. But as of today, I'm okay. I'm perfectly content with what I have to do to get better, and I don't think anyone should feel sorry for me or anyone in this situation. It is what you make it, and I feel like I'm doing as much with it as I can. I'm totally valuing this year for what it is and what it has taught me.

I don't know where that all came from, but I wanted you all to know. I am truly blessed in my life, and a huge part of that is all my friends, all of you, that are with me everytime I blog.

How completely cheesy I am.

-L

I used to care, but now I take a pill for that. -bumper sticker

Let me tell you what they don't tell you about chemo: it makes your teeth yellow. Yellow. And you're not allowed to bleach them. And the anemia is a bitch. There, I said it. The damn anemia will make you bonkers because you can't do anything without feeling completely exhausted. Damn that anemia. And the headaches, the joint aches (no, not that), the compromised immune system (which means I get things like styes- eww), the muscle cramps no matter how you lay, the weight gain (yeah, everyone thinks you lose weight on chemo, but you don't. I haven't met anyone who didn't gain weight. Wierd, huh?), the constant teeth and gum aches, the scar pain that I don't enjoy (especially on the old kooter), the low temp, the incontinence (yes, I piss my pants, ok?), complete lack of sex drive, and then, to top it off, is insomnia. Luckily, Tylenol is a wonderdrug. And I'm not even kidding about that.
A little b**ch session there- sorry. I haven't had one in a while. Yes, I piss my p ants, ok? Are we back to that already?
So, besides that, Bobby's show went really great and he's working on getting all the pics up on his website. I got shnockered for the first time in a really long while and the 3 day hangover was completely worth it. The room, the room, the room is done. Completely done, complete with shelves for my books and all my crazy nick-nacks. Hopefully Bobby will get a slideshow up so everyone can see. That could be a few days, but it'll happen. But I love LOVE my room. It's very Zen and harmonious. So go rake some sand and come back later to check it out.

So, May is Melanoma Awareness Month, and we're gonna have some good stuff going on. Mandy is coming in from San Diego and we're going to stage an awareness picket outside of some national tanning bed place. Hopefully, we'll get on the news and get some publicity. Mandy's gonna dress in a chicken suit just for grins, and Bobby has a dinosaur outfit he said he'd wear. A wise man once said if you start out with a man in a costume, you're there. You gotta mess up pretty bad to not be funny. Whoo. Good times, and I can't wait.

We're working on a script for a PSA for May, and we need people who know the info on how to get them on the radio and/or TV and we also need people who can do impersonations. Even bad ones. Our current script is a conversation between two famous actors... but we'll take what we can get. I know there's a lot of you that read this blog, I check the numbers, people. I know you're there. I need help on this. And those of you that comment, make my day. So if you have any info, I'd appreciate even just a line or two of advice. Come on, you lurkers... make a cancer patient's day.

In big news, I've been contacted by the president of the Schlip foundation (www.theschlip.com) which was founded by Jean Schlippman 3 days after her husband's death from melanoma, on his 45th birthday. I love this lady, I love what she's doing, and she wants to work together to promote melanoma awareness. Exciting stuff! I'm amped. Be sure to check out her site, fools.

Besides that, I got nothin', folks. The big SD trip is coming up and I can't freakin wait.

Hope all is well with y'all. Don't forget to comment just this once.

-L

There are two ways to live your life: one is to live as though nothing 

is a miracle, the other is to live as though everything is.

-Albert Einstein

In case I Haven't Shamelessly Promoted Enough...

So, in the strange case that I haven't sent you one of my many bulk emails about this event, I'm putting it up here, too.
This is Bobby (my Bobby's) first photo showing, and I'm so proud. So, if you're in Dallas, or you're going to be in Dallas, or if you know someone in Dallas, please read the flyer and feel free to pass it on.
The coolest thing is, he's not only talented, he's also a sweetheart, as he's agreed to donate part of what he makes to the Melanoma Research Foundation. Looks and a good heart. How much luckier could I be?

-L











Bobby Friske has enjoyed an unusually broad and diversified background in the creative arts. He grew up in Lubbock, Texas, a “Musical Crossroads,” where he was surrounded by not only production and music entertainment, but also a rich musical history, and he found his first creative outlet. By six he was playing guitar, playing violin by age seven, and playing a piano and keyboards just a year after that. This outlet led Bobby to South Plains College to pursue a degree in Sound Production and a minor in Video Production. It was in college that Bobby met Robert Romano and joined his band, Stranger Than Fiction. They played for more than ten years together, saw some lucrative success in Texas, and afforded Bobby the experience to perform at a variety of venues. His love for music still endures, and his interest in music ranges from classical to alternative.

While doing corporate audio/video work, Bobby’s long-time interest in movies led him to try his hand at film. He wrote several screenplays, and in 2001-2002 Bobby directed and edited three short films.

Bobby began his interest in photography during his stint with short films. He spends much of his time outside of work as a graphics designer developing this creative talent, focusing on many objects which are industrial, but somehow evoke an emotion, usually from nostalgic memories. He always enjoys shooting unique, sometimes abstract, objects, especially architectural structures, lights, signs, and on occasion, even people. Each photo is a unique, one of a kind work of art.

Artist’s Statement

All around us are simple objects. We pass them on the street everyday- signs, lights, towers, play structures, trees- and yet in the midst of our busy lives, we do not pause to focus on them. But when Bobby captures them on film, they become some sort of archetype, an image that evokes an emotion or a sense of reminiscence, and we realize our connection to the inanimate. Often, these photos unlock the nostalgia of a place lived or a different time in life. Bobby concentrates on these images rather than people because he chooses not to objectify the human form, because he feels portraits often objectify without revealing the same nostalgia. This collection is entitled “pause,” and spans from 2001 to present, shot in areas from Dallas to Lubbock to New York City.



For more information on Bobby’s show along with 2 other artists for the evening;
check http://pigeonstoneproject.com.

P.S. If you can't make the show, you can write me and I can tell you where it's going to be after this. Thanks for all your support!

What be yee favorite roast beef sandwich establishment?

So, Valentine's day has passed. Bobby's birthday came and went. And basically, now I'm ready for one of my favorite holidays: St. Patrick's Day. I can't believe it's already been a year of living here in Texas. I dreaded moving back here, but at the time, I thought it was the smartest thing to do. And it was. There were times in the last year that I had questioned that decision, but now, looking back, I'm so glad I made it. It's wierd to me how things go. In San Diego, I worked so hard to try to get a better job, to make more money, to find roommates that I loved, to find someone that I clicked with and was good to me. Here, in this state I've never been too fond of, everything has fallen into place. But I miss my friends in San Diego still. If they were here, life would be perfect. But it's pretty damn close.
It's wierd how cancer has changed things. Today, I baked Bobby his birthday cake, even though his birthday was last Monday. But I was so tired and out of it, I didn't get around to it until today. It was good though, and he understoood, didn't even say a word. And who cares, really? There was a time in my life I would've freaked out about not having everything perfect for a certain day. But now, life is so much simpler, and I'm happier. Is that crazy? I'm actually happier now that I have cancer than I was when I was healthy. The details don't freak me out like they used to, and I've learned not to be so results-driven, so over-achieving, so crazy about everything being perfect. I make it a point to really relish what's going on in my day, whether it's just emailing friends or painting or walking the dog or even cleaning. I really love my life. Even gifts are different now. I used to make the biggest deal about having the perfect gift for a person on holidays like Valentines day. Now, I just want to spend time with them. That's what means more to me than anything. And if I do want to give them something, I've started making gifts for them. I ask the same from them- if you want to give me a present, give me something you took the time to put together yourself. Give me a piece of you that I'll always treasure. Those are the gifts that I treasure now, now that I've scaled down and gotten rid of tons of junk. Just think about it, the next time your buying gifts. You'd be surprised how much something like that means to someone.
Speaking of, and I know how gay this is, but I love my dog. Hennessee has been a lifesaver through this whole thing, and she is so attentive and sweet when I'm sick, it's not even funny. She also gives me a reason to walk around outside every day, and I honestly don't know if I'd take walks everyday if it wasn't for her. The sunshine does us both good, too, and I know it helps me make it through the dullest days.
The nineth of this month marked the halfway point for my chemo treatment. That means just six months left, people. I'm half way through! I can't believe it's true, but I'm so thankful. I'm already searching for jobs and getting my resume together for applications for the next school year. Some teachers I know in the area have been helping me put it all together, and I can't tell you how excited I am at the prospect of working with kids again. The thought is too exciting for words, and just being able to go back to work and be around people again is motivating in and of itself.
Not that these 6 months have been a complete waste. I"ve worked on myself a lot in this time, I've dedicated time to things I've never done before. I've learned to draw and paint,
done a lot of writing, worked on this webpage, promoted the cause, made videos, and learned a lot about life. It's crazy to say, but in so many ways having cancer has opened my eyes. It's made my life better and it's made the important things so much clearer.
Well, enough of my rants. I think that'll do it for now. I just wanted to put all of these random thoughts out there. Thanks for reading them, though.

Peace and love,
-L

Aliens are coming. They're killing the skinny blondes first. (Not you, Mangie.)

There is nothing, I mean nothing, like getting your hair done to up a mood. Nothing. When I feel like I have no control of anything, I can at least go and do something with my hair. Granted, when Kinome (the best hairdresser in Dallas, I swear) (check out her blog at http://sweethair.blogspot.com) brushed thru it, it started breaking off everywhere. But she worked with what she had, and cut some of the length off, and now it looks killer. You should've seen her face when I told her what I wanted- platinum up top with black in the back. She explained what I really needed to do (a very decent compromise, in my opinion), and three short hours later- voila! Killer hair. I went from Dikey to Terri Nunn in 3 short hours.
Not much besides that going on. All Bobby and I have left on the room is touch-up paint and a bookshelf. We're hanging pictures up soon, so the walls are bare, but here's a sneak peak. Hope you enjoy!
Once again, Miss Melanoma Artwork- and a new look- are coming to Miss Melanoma.com, so don't forget to keep checking in. Also, the store is being updated, so feel free to check that out and pass it on. Besos!

-L

My Deepest Sympathies on the Loss of Your MOJO

Well, the girls at Gilda's have come thru again. I mentioned in one meeting that I was losing hair and the next meeting they gave me 2 hats and a scarf. Bobby says the Cat in the Hat cap makes me look like a soccer mom, and I realize I look like a gypsey in the scarf, but it's all in good fun. I'm not sure what I look like in the Harley cap, but with an added 6 or 7 tattoos, I think I can pull it off. We actually think that we've determined that the hair is not actually falling out, it's just breaking off. So if I get a haircut, all this dread for being bald could be eliminated, which I'm personally all for. Not that Kojak didn't do it for me. Let's not be mistaken- I was hot in all the right places for him. It's just not right for my head, personally. We took these pics for all you crazy little mothers who are just dieing to see me.
Bobby and I have been working on the room non-freakin-stop, so I've been really busy lately, which is always good. I personally am enjoying the project, and it's turning out great. We're putting a slideshow together to show everyone the progress; and, of course, by "we" I mean Bobby. It's awesome and COMING SOON!
Had a doctor's appointment last week and met my new oncologist. She is awesome; I really love her, and she can't be a day over 30. I have a sinus infection that she gave me a Z-pack for, and when I take it "as directed" I'm asleep 16 hours a day. But she also let me try a new anti-nausea medicine that seems to be working, and I can't tell you how happy that makes me.
It's been a rough week, but today I just decided I wasn't taking any medicine, and my head was so clear and I felt so good. I took Hannah for 3 walks and got a lot done around the house and had just the best day. I've been fighting depression pretty hard lately, and I think a lot of it is the fact that so many of the drugs I'm prescribed are sedatives, it just brings me down. I'm sure you can imagine- always feeling drugged up and sleepy or sick is not the way to hang. I'm not gonna lie, a little sedative can be a good thing at the right time, but 24-7 is not the right time. You ain't gotta lie to kick it, I know you like it, too. :) All together, that and being sick were no good as a combo. Today's better. And I know if I just keep it together tomorrow will be better than today.
I've recently taken up drawing, too, and checking out some online art classes. The pics of what I've done should be on the website soon, so don't forget to check out the old homepage when you get a chance.
I also want to thank everyone who's been searching Yahoo and Google for "Miss Melanoma." It's really helped bring my page up on search engines and I'm getting a lot more hits.
That's it for now, kids. I'll be in touch soon. Keep it rizzeal and be sure to drop me a line.
-L

Um, that's gonna leave a mark

Not much going on this week. I think I got a cold somehow, even though I never leave the house. How does that happen? And I'm so ready for summer for the warmth of the sun, for days with no rain and for lazy summer nights. Just a random thought, just something I pulled out of the air. Just putting it out there. Just sending a shout out.

So chemo on Sunday really jacked with me, mainly because I had to take the white blood cell shot, too, which makes me even more tired. Plus I was pretty tired and dehydrated from a day of working, which I don't think helped. It was such a good day, I felt so good. I knew I'd pay for being so active, and I am, but I think it was probably worth it.

The only big news lately is the last couple of times I've showered I've noticed an issue with my hair. Yeah, it appears to be falling out in clumps when I wash it, and I'm just starting to notice a difference. It sucks, and let's not lie- I"m pretty bummed about it. Friends are suggesting to just shave it off, but I'm not gonna. I'm just gonna hang in for a little while longer and see how it goes. Who knows, maybe it will get better. Crazier things have happened. And really, losing hair- it could be so much worse. It could be a limb. And hair grows back.

I feel a lot better today than I did yesterday, and my cold seems to be getting better, so maybe that's part of the moodiness. In any case, I"m hoping for a better week and I hope everybody out there is doing good too. Keep the faith, and keep checking the missmelanoma.com site- some big changes are coming soon. No really, I mean it this time.

-L

People like you are the reason I take pills

I have this habit- this terribly bad habit of dropping off the face of the earth when I don't feel so good.

The sad thing is, almost everyone has figured this out about me: my mom, my friends, even little Lizzy. So when I don't post, or don't answer calls, everyone freaks out, thinking I'm in the hospital or incapacitated or comatose or decapitated or bound and gagged or held hostage or tarred and feathered or brainwashed and enlisted in the militant Nazi branch of Al-Queda, or out adopting Cambodian babies.

Not to worry, friends, it's just me being me. And sickness and weakness have never been my strong points. It's hard to be on the phone with someone who is saying, What's up? How are you? And you just can't think of a single good thing to say. Not that there's not a good thing in my life, it's just when you're sick, and you all know what I mean, like sick like the worst hangover you've ever had, then its not about talking. It's just about being able to get from the bed to the couch and maybe eating some crackers. So try not to trip, and I'll try to make a promise to at least respond by email.
In other news, I've been corresponding with a melanoma patient in New Jersey that had the same diagnosis and underwent the same treatment as me. I found her through Cancer Hope.net and it's been a real asset to be able to ask her all about what's coming up for me. She is awesome and has a really similar sense of humor, so we get along great, and I appreciate her insight into what's going on. She also makes me feel so normal for all the stuff I feel and go through, especially all the sleeping.
On the homefront, my room is getting built. We're taking pictures as we go so all of you can get a view of the transformation. So far it's just a little framing, but I'm excited.
So my friend Alicia from high school came into town, but I was so out of it from the chemo we didn't even really get to meet up. I'm bummed about it but hoping we can plan some kind of get together at some point.
This post is all over the board, but I'm trying to get it in before the Ativan takes over. Anyway, In Gilda's club last night, someone mentioned a cancer patient from group that had died, and when the other members read her obituary, they were amazed by the life she had led, the things she'd accomplished, and the people she'd touched. The people in the group never saw that side of her, they only saw and got to hear from her as a cancer patient. It's amazing to me how often that probably happens, that so many people in these hospitals or doctor's offices are seen as just sick people. The thought inspired me to tell all of you: when you see that sick person, or that person in a wheelchair, or on oxygen, or with a mask on, or whatever, just remember - That's a real person in there that had a life and friends and all of that stuff before they got sick. Being sick sucks, and it's amazing how just a simple smile or bit of conversation with a stranger can make you feel so normal. When you're told to stay out of public places in general, it just makes such a difference to be able to be a little social with strangers, even just to know you're still human and still sociable. Not sure if any of that makes sense to you, but it's like a crystal to me.

That's it for now, amigos. Stay on your toes, remember your blessings, and let's be safe out there.

-L

And In this corner, a weenie

Bobby here. I'm sick.

I know, you're asking yourself, “Why should I care? This is the Miss Melanoma site, not the little hairy monkey Bobby site.”

I’m hip.

But bear with me; it will all tie in, I promise. If not I’ll send each of you .80 cents, wait, $1.80, WAIT $11.80 (just ask Antonio, aka Tony, the crackhead in our neighborhood) (You know what, actually, just don’t ask).

Anyway, I have what feels like the flu. No, not the bird one, just the good ole’ fashioned flu flu.

The reason this is important to you (here comes the tie-in, get ready) is way back when we were finding out what was involved with this melanoma treatment thing a common response to how does the treatment affect you was “You feel like you have a BAD case of the flu”.

Now, I can tell you for sure that I feel like poop right now. And I know that it will go away in a few days if my flu follows standard flu practices.

I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to get out of bed, I don’t want to get messed with at all, much less go on about daily life.

Most of you know, hark back to the day when you were a little lad/lass and you had the flu, all you wanted to do was stay in bed in your underoos watching Scooby-Doo, sleep and feel miserable.

Now, our little Lori has been dealing with that for 5 months already and has until August when the treatment is done. We’re planning a huge “No More F’in Chemo” party in August btw. You’re invited!

Anyway, knowing how I feel with my mild flu and knowing that it’s probably 10 times worse for Lori on an every other day basis (one day of treatment, then a day off, lather/rinse/repeat) makes me realize how tough a little monkey she is.

It’s our little funny joke that it’s a good thing she has melanoma because I’m way too much of a sissy to go through it.

I’m going to tell you a story I’m not proud of. The other day Lori and I went and worked out for the first time since this whole business started. We both got on an elliptical runner machine.

Let’s go to the replay for what happened.

On the left elliptical machine we have Bobby, a fairly in shape (or so I thought) person whose only drawback is asthma, and let’s face it, I use it as a crutch when I have to.

On the right elliptical machine we have Lori, cancer patient, one less toe, a 2 foot scar, constant nausea, lymphadema, chest pains on a fairly regular basis, on chemo 4 days a week along with a ton of other medicine.

Well, I went for 10 minutes and was DONE. As in done, as in stick a fork in me… as in, put the candles on the cake; DONE. TOAST. As in brown on both sides, as in get me on a plate and serve me up.

Lori went for over 30 minutes went for 2 MILES! People, if that doesn’t tell you how tough she is, and to a lesser degree how weak I am, then I don’t know what will please you people.

It’s never enough, you’ll always want more. All you want to see is car crashes and athletes femurs sticking out of their legs….wait Lori is telling me “I’m going to far again”.

Moral: Lori is strong, learn from it. She’s a cancer patient and trucking through life. We have no excuse.

Bobby

When choosing between 2 evils, I always like to try the one I haven't tried before

Okay, okay. So it's been way too long since the last update. I apologize. In between that last one and now, there's been turkey dinners and reconstruction, 2 doctor's appointments, infection, aparatus removal, new meds, and I've started up a small Vietnamese prostitution ring, too. So, in a way, there's a lot to talk about. The new medication is supposed to be to help increase my white blood cell count. The bad news is: it's a shot that has to go into my stomach, it causes fatigue, kinda like the interferon did in the first rounds, and along with that it causes nausea and flu-like symptoms. So I've been really tired, and doing that 2 nap a day thing again. Lots of sleeping, lots of laying around, lots of eating only soup. I do take meds for nausea they gave me when we have to eat out with friends or whatever, and that seems to up my appetite a little and does a lot for the general "I feel like ass" feeling that I have whenever I have to do those tedious tasks like breathing in and out. The doctor also gave me antibiotics because YEAH! they took the PICC line out of my arm because it looked infected. This is big news, folks. I'm muy excited about this. I mean, I'd never wanted anything as bad as this. Except maybe that yellow bike when I was 6 with the big banana seat. But anyway. So the tube came out, and she started me on Clendomyacin, which I'm not supposed to be allergic to. I am allergic to Vancomyacin, which is the next strongest. But since I'm MRSA, and resistant to alot of antibiotics, she prescribed me to take 450 mg of the Clendo a day. That's NINE pills a day, people. I broke out like Mike Tyson at an ear eating contest. I mean BAD- huge hives from head to toe. So then there was that, and taking Benadryl and Zyrtec every hour to try to get rid of it. Funny now; not so much at the time. Bobby says I keep a constant 4 things wrong with me. When the chest pains subside, a rash starts, when the fever drops off, there's nausea; when the pain goes away, I get diarrhea. It's a cycle.
On a good note, (yes, there is one) Parkland has been an awesome experience since I finally got into the oncology department, and I'm really pleased with my doctor. AND- get this- I've only got 7 more months of chemo left as of yesterday. WOOHOO! I'll try not to be so lame and post more often, and hey, what about you? You could do your part, too, you lame-o. What about that job you said you'd get? I can't support us forever, you know. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean that. You know I didn't mean that. Just come here. No, don't leave. Baby, I'm sorry, don't leave. I love you! I do! Don't say things like that. Well, you know what then? Just f* forget you!

A Topic Touchier than a Vatican Summercamp

It's nearing Christmas, friends- the most wonderful time of the year. I know I have a lot to be thankful for this year, and it's the first Christmas I can remember in a long time that I was this excited about the whole thing. It's tough sometimes, when we're so wrapped up in our own little lives and all the things we have to get accomplished and bought and wrapped, it's easy to forget all the people around us who have it so much worse. People who are alone this Christmas, people who are sick, people that have no family and no loved ones, and people who are cold and hungry. We're so quick to forget those little miracles in everyday life that we don't have to ever worry about. They are there every day, so we forget what a blessing it is just to have friends and a warm bed at night. When I was in the hospital, what I wanted more than anything else was to be able to go outside and get in a car and go somewhere. That was the biggest deal to me, more than feeling sick, more than the hospital food, more than the loss of privacy, more than anything. I wanted just a little taste of freedom back. That total loss of freedom was horrendous to me, and I promised myself I'd never take it for granted again. Everyday now when I walk to the car, I try to think how lucky I am just for that. Just to have two legs, just to not be connected to an iv pole, just to be home.
Seems preachy, I know, but I just want to remind you this holiday that there are so many little things that could be taken away from us that we need to remember to be thankful for.
That's enough of the soapbox. Enjoy your pumpkin pie and be good to each other out there.

-L

No Woman, No Cry

I guess everybody has those days- you know, those days when nothing seems to go right, when the bad outweighs the good, when all you want is one little thing and you get everything else you don't want. I went to Parkland yesterday for the first time as a patient. I went alone, because I insisted on being alone, I insisted on being dropped off because I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself. But Parkland isn't like the other hospitals I've been in, it's more like ER. It's the poorest and the sickest people who have no where else to go. And sitting there for hours upon hours just waiting to be seen, watching all the sick people, hundreds of them just sitting and waiting, it wore on me. That, along with the anemia, I guess, I don't know. It sounds dramatic, but it's just a really depressing place. People seem to have the soul sucked out of them in that basement, lined up in chairs, coughing and crying and bleeding and throwing up, waiting, just like me, waiting for hours, waiting to feel better somehow. So many people, and I should have just felt blessed because there were so many so much sicker than me. I thought I was strong enough: to go and handle it alone and not have to worry about what it would do to me mentally, and I don't know what happened exactly, but I just started crying. I cried and cried and cried. I cried more than I have cried since I found out I had cancer, and I guess maybe that's why I cried so hard. Maybe I realized, looking at all those sick people, just how sick I could become. Maybe sitting next to the lady with lung cancer made me think about how this cancer could spread. Maybe I was dealing for the first time with how serious this all is. I don't know. I don't really even know what to say about it, and, of course, I thought about not letting anyone know how I cracked like an egg, but I guess that I hope by sharing it, somebody else with this kinda situation knows that there will be days when you're just so tired, just so ready to feel better, just so tired of being sick and so ready for the whole thing to be over. And I guess that's ok. I guess everybody needs those days when they just need to let it all out and be sad about it and give themselves a chance to get over the suckiness of it.
I feel better today. I came home and had a couple of glasses of wine and some mashed potatoes. My scar started burning, so I assumed Voldemort was near, and thought it might be best to just hit the sack early. I took a shower and got a good night's sleep. I guess I feel lucky again to be as well as I am. My PET scans all came back clear, which means, conclusively for the first time basically, that the cancer hasn't spread. It's the best Christmas present I could ever ask for, and the truth is, I am a lucky girl, even when I don't feel like it sometimes. And maybe this whole thing will just somehow make me stronger. That's all I'm asking for: a higher purpose in all this. A reason to learn. And a better day tomorrow.

A Reaction Fraction

Bobby here, guest report #2.
Just a quick little story from the other side of the room. This story is requested by our lovely Lori Lee.


So, our favorite melanoma patient has had some low numbers lately, (see anemia and low blood count). What does that mean to you and me? Well good and bad. The good is it makes our girl talk and act like she's dropped a few Quaaludes along with some Mad Dog 20/20 (grape drink!). She's lots of fun, yes, more than normal. The bad is fatigue, yes more than normal, muscle cramps & spasms, chest pains, "foggy memory" (I love that song), lots of easy bruising, etc etc. I told the cops I didn’t beat her, but whatever. She burned the toast. SHE BURNED THE DAMN TOAST. She deserved it.

Onward we go. Numbers were low enough to skip an Interferon treatment and let the ole' body build some immunity. Well, last night was the chemo treatment after the injection vacation. Let's say reaction would be all capitals, as in REACTION. Our girl got a wicked fever, as in 102 degrees fever. Horses get shot for less. Anyway, it was a long night. I remember falling asleep around 6 am today. Lori called the on call oncologist who said go to the emergency room.

Now there’s a saying I’ve heard and it goes “No one knows your body better than you”. No perverts here people, I’m being serious. Lori went ahead and took some more Tylenol and a “tepid” shower, and the fever eventually broke and all is well and she got some great sleep.

This happens semi-occasionally, I think last night was one of the more serious. It’s gotta be no fun going through this, so send your love to Lori.

On a funny note, Lori was FREEZING last night (see fever above) and I should’ve taken a picture because she had on the following:
One pair of socks with a slot for each toe
One pair of socks on top of that
One pair of pajama bottoms (flannel)
One wife-beater
One heavy duty sweatshirt
One Flickerstick ski cap
One blanket (acquired from a local hospital)
One comforter
One comforter on top of that
And she was still freezing.

At one point, when she finally passed out, I had to put in a prop for a picture. She looked too gangster to pass up the opportunity.

Lori makes it all look easy but even last night was tough for her. It’s a reminder of how tough she is and how great it’s going to be once she’s done with treatment.

Fun is fun and serious is serious. Last night was a little bit of both.
Bobby

I'm Just Here for the Ativan

Well, for those of you who don't know, Thanksgiving was a blast, just awesome. Bobby and I both got our first annual Thanksgiving lapdances, (thanks to Amanda), and I just don't know how you can go wrong with that. The game, although we lost, (as everyone knew we would), was actually really close, and Kelly's Thanksgiving dinner had the best dressing and pumpkin pie known to man, plus Uncle Jeff's circus going on outside was fun and entertainment for everyone.

Had chest pains on Saturday, along with some serious leg spasms and cramps that would put polio to shame (okay, not really). The ER Doc gave me ATIVAN to help with all of it. OMG. It's like liquid pleasure, and by that I mean it's a tablet and it took away most of the nausea and most of the muscle stuff, too. Good stuff. I mean real good stuff. Like, I want to get it's name tattooed on my chest (or other places).


Lots of exciting stuff coming up... went to Parkland today, and of course, now I feel more greatful than ever. There's a lot for all of us to be thankful for, kids. In the waiting room, we sat next to a planet of the apes lady, who cussed out 3 of 4 social workers out while we were there. We didn't have popcorn, but it was entertaining enough.
My doc told me to wear a mask while I went inside the hospital, which I did like the good cancer patient I am. My advice to you is if you ever need to clear a hallway or waiting room, walk in with a mask on. I swear, you'd think I had "Bird Flu" written across my forehead. I've never been stared at like that, and anyone who knows me knows that I draw enough attention to myself that THAT's a big deal. What people didn't get was I was protecting ME from Them, not the other way around. (like I'm gonna care if I give the hospital SARS!?!?) It was funny nonetheless. And there was tons of tagging in the bathroom. Who goes to a hospital to write on the walls? My favorite tag was "F**k all you hatters out there!" Yeah, those hatters can be a real drag. The anemia has made me so light-headed and such a space cadet lately that I've been laughing like I've been breathing ether, funny as hell. I think people around me were actually getting a contact high.

Anyway, things went well and I'll try to be a little more regular on the blogs. Everybody hollar at me when you get a chance.

-L

My other ride is Miss Melanoma

Getting ready for Thanksgiving and the big Texas A&M game. I mean, yes, we're gonna lose (again) this year, but does anybody go to College Station to really see who is going to win the big game? It's a good time all around, though, and I get to visit my old stompin grounds: the Dixie Chicken, the Dry Bean Saloon, the College Station police department. I'm excited and ready to give myself a reason to throw up.
The plan is to have Thanksgiving dinner with Dad (see above) and the family , which I'm also excited about. (Check out the new tatt on his hand.) It's great to have friends that are like family to you, that you actually get excited about seeing during the holidays.
Tuesday was the big 31 (can you believe it?) and I had a great one. I had chocolate cake at midnight with candles and everything. One of my presents was getting my first pedicure since the surgery, and I think it turned out pretty cute. Spent hours playing House of Dead at Dave & Busters, which made my little queasy friend all motion sick. That's okay, though, because the Dramamine was a good addition to the party. Also went up in "The Ball," and had two of the strongest vodka & tonics ever, which made the rest of the evening STELLAR. I was amped just to be feeling so good. Then went down to July Alley, where the bartender hit on me so hard my head was spinning. Hey, I may have cancer, but I still got it. And by "IT" I mean cleavage. Anyway, that's it for now. I'm working on some more promotions for local stuff & I'll let you know how it goes. Enjoy your pumpkin pie if I don't talk to ya!

-L

What if the Hokey Pokey is what it's ALL ABOUT?

The scans are coming! The scans are coming!
So the scan results are in, and they're all good. The MRI, the bone scan, and the CT scan were all negative (which is positive!), no spread of cancer as evidenced. Who's a happy camper? Your mama is.
It's been a crazy few days since I posted last time. Saturday I came dangerously close to passing out in the shower, i.e.- I started to black out and then laid in the bottom of the shower for twenty minutes trying to recoup, which in reality meant I just thought about the soap scum and all the hair in the drain. Then I went into wretching mode, which really meant that I just transferred my attention to how badly the toilet needed to be cleaned. Finally I called Bobby in, after I had taken off all of my clothes and was laying on the tile, where Bobby kept saying, "Um, oh God, don't lay there, um, Lori, oh... eww, gross." Later I was informed that this was a floor where "countless girls have hurled and numerous guys have pissed anywhere but the toilet." At the time, though, you know how it is: you just want cold tile against your body. Oh, the porceline god, we bow down to you.
So I took a Vicodin, and if you know me at all, you know that it had to be some serious f**king pain for me to do that, but I did and felt better. Anything was better than going to the ER, which I seriously considered for about .72 seconds. I've come up with some theories as to what was going on, but they involve the Black Panthers and radio waves transmitted through Nancy Regan's teeth, and we just don't have time to go into all that, kids. I did speak with Dr. Vk about the incessant nausea, and he wrote me a Rx for Kytrol (sp?), which isn't covered by Medicaid, and, guess what, is $1500 for a month's supply. So the plan now is to sell my heart on the black market, but it's so tempting to buy a car instead. I found a great Impala on car soup, and it's a toss-up: nausea free for a month or a mode of transportation? You decide.

Extreme Amputation!

Girl, you knows it's true! Before and after photos for all of you that have been requesting them. Notice how chunky that right foot is compared to the left one... yeah, that's a difference in size 6 and 1/2 and a size 8. It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside; and shoe shopping, for that matter. Hey, you can't say I don't have character.

The World Looks Mighty Good to Me

Went to the YMCA today, they have a program for people on Disability to join at a reduced rate, and I think I'm gonna. It's been months since I've been able to work out, and the last dr. appointment with Dr. Bietsch I got official clearance. They said to start out slow, walking just a block or two a day at first, but I'm pretty sure I'm doing that already. They said the more active I am, the more my leg is gonna swell, but I can't be this out of shape. It's making me crazy. Tom Cruise crazy, which is not to say I'm Courtney Love crazy yet, but lets not press our luck, kids.
Anyway, I'm gonna start walking and hopefully get up to running again, and I'll add up my miles to see how long it takes me to get to marathon status- 26.2 miles. I'm gonna do it, but it may take a while- i.e., all of you will be grandparents. So there you go. That's it for now, monkeys. Let's be safe out there.

-L

P.S. Big news coming soon about a short film you're gonna wanna see. Stay Tuned!

Sweet Home Melanoma

Here's what I got for you today: I went to Gilda's club tonight, and there were about 6 people that came to the living with cancer suppport group. I can't tell you what it's like, being around all these women with cancer that handle it so unbelievably. It is just an inspiration to hear them talk. I'm having trouble articulating it tonight, but just trust me that they are inspiring just to know, and I feel blessed for the experience. Blessed, I tell you. Word.

Learn all the rules. Then break them.

Wow, quite the weekend, and I spent a lot of it with Bobby. What can I say about Bobby? If I started typing now, I'd still be sitting here in a year typing about him- that's how awesome this guy is. That's how blessed I am just to have him as a friend, and being more than that, really getting to know him and falling for him- it's been amazing. He's always there, that's what really gets me. He's ALWAYS there with a kind word and a pick me up, he's always saying the most incredible things to me. A lot of times I think about how he deserves so much better than this- than having a girl with cancer... and I just wish I could run away to an island and just deal with this all by myself. But anyway, that's not the point. A lady in my group tonight told me that I don't want to be loved, because I don't want the people around me to feel the pain that I'm going through. I'm not really going thru any pain; the chemo is more an inconvenience than anything else. But the thought itself blows my mind. Really, I can not describe it, but you have to trust me. Anyway, here's what Bobby and I were talking about today:

So we're sitting around talking about our respective high schools, and he asks why I didn't go to my 10 year reunion. I'll be honest, because I was honest with him, I know I've done a lot, but I feel like I haven't accomplished my "big thing" yet. That's what I told him, and I meant it. Do you ever feel that way? Like you were born to do something big, something great, and you just haven't done it yet?
You should've heard Bobby go on and on about how wrong it was for me to say that. He says the craziest things, said today that other people look at me the way I think about the nurses I come across. I don't know, I don't see it, but it's not the point. What is the point? Simply this: That it made me think a lot about life and about destiny and about what it's all about. What if THIS is what it's all about? Today, right now, this moment. Everything in my life- all I've learned, everyone I've known, mistakes made and paths taken - all of it lead up to this moment, all of it was because of what I'm supposed to do today. It's a mind-boggling thought, but it's not too big to wrap my brain around, and here's why: because part of me believes it. Part of me believes that my whole life has been leading up to where I am now, to this experience, to melanoma. It's the big thing I've been destined to do with my life. I've always known I was supposed to do something big, and I finally feel like I've chipped the iceberg on what it is. This is part of it, too. This blog, and all of you reading it. It's crazy but true. It's just a tiny part of the something bigger I know I'm supposed to do with my life, one of the little steps that will hopefully lead to me making a huge difference. Bobby and I only went on one date before I was diagnosed, and he says that's no coincidence. He says we were meant to go through this together, to beat all this together and work together to make this a bigger purpose. I don't know, but it seems to make sense sometimes. And so, because I love an inter-active blog, :) I encourage all of you: be a part of this bigger thing with me. Tell everyone you know about this site, email anybody who knows anyone else. It's the only way that people will find out about the dangers of melanoma, about the insane easiness that can be prevention, about the risks to people that are just as young as you and me. Help me to be something bigger, help me to make this whole disease something that wasn't experienced in vain. It would mean a lot to me, and it could help so many others.

Thanks for the love,

-L