I MUST be Butter, cause I'm on a ROLL!!!

When you have melanoma, or any other cancer for that matter, people take insults from you much more easily and without nearly as much fuss, especially if there's a chance of you dieing. So! Let me start this post by saying that I know none of you slackers have written to your congress-people about the budget cuts that GDub has proposed, and I am personally incredibly offended by all of your lazy butts. However, because I can relate to not only your apathy and disgrace, but your sense of taste in the immediately gratifying, I am pasting a letter RIGHT HERE on the Miss Melanoma blog for you to send it. How easy is that? Of course, I ripped all of this off from Lance Armstrong's site, due to the fact that I am as lazy and apathetic as all of you. Here goes.

Tell Congress - Don't Slow Down the Fight!

But seriously...
On February 6, President Bush proposed to Congress his federal budget for Fiscal Year (FY) 2007. The President's budget fails to meet even the basic public health needs for cancer patients and survivors. This is unacceptable. The 1.4 million people who hear the words, "You have cancer" this year need to know that our elected officials are making cancer a national priority. Congress needs to hear loudly from cancer survivors and others that our nation can't step back from the fight against cancer. Let them hear you today.

Click here to find your representative's email address.-----> United States House of Representatives

Please use this as your subject line in your email: -----------> DON'T IGNORE THE FIGHT AGAINST CANCER


Then copy and insert this letter, written by HOTTIE Lance Armstrong himself. (I'd like to see that StrongArm, if you know what I mean). (That's me on the right, trying to get my tongue in his ear.)

Anyway, here's the letter:

------->When the Budget Resolution is considered in the House and Senate, please oppose the President's proposed cuts and vote in support of efforts to increase funding for cancer research and programs, such as the Specter-Harkin amendment to restore funding for all health and education programs to the levels they were at two years ago. As you and your colleagues are considering the FY 2007 budget, I urge you to only support a budget resolution that increases funding for cancer research and programs. Unfortunately, the President's FY 2007 budget fails to meet even the basic public health needs for cancer patients and survivors. On the heels of approving the first cut to National Institutes of Health (NIH) and National Cancer Institute (NCI) funding since 1970 in FY 2006, the President has proposed even deeper cuts in FY 2007. As a result, the total number of NIH-funded research project grants would drop by 642, or 2 percent, below last year’s level. Funding for the NCI would be cut by $40 million. In addition to these cuts in medical research, the President's budget also proposes deep reductions at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) for chronic disease prevention, quality of life programs, and health promotion. Specifically, the proposal cuts nearly $20 million from chronic disease programs, which include cancer control, prevention, and survivorship. In fact, under the President's proposal, the CDC Cancer programs, which are already severely under-funded, would be cut by more than $3 million. As you well know, the Congressional Budget Resolution sets the spending caps for the year by "Functions." For health care, including medical research and public health programs, the critical Function is "550." If you support cancer research and public health programs and are serious about the commitment to end suffering and death from cancer, you should only support a Congressional Budget Resolution that increases Function 550 funding over last year's level. When the Budget Resolution is considered in the House and Senate, please oppose the President's proposed cuts and vote in support of efforts to increase funding for cancer research and programs, such as the Specter-Harkin amendment to restore funding for all health and education programs to the levels they were at two years ago. I will be following the budget process closely. Please let me know what actions you plan to take to support increasing funding for cancer research and programs.

Sincerely,

(insert your little ol name here)

That's love, right there folks... doin all that work for you. So get off your buttskies and help all those cancer patients out there. Doing something you don't want to do builds character.

-L

Ask me about my meth lab

Here's a question for you: what do mathematics and constipation have in common? You can work them both out with a pencil. Okay, it's not really funny, but how many jokes about poop are? Exactly. So it's Friday night and I was too whipped to do anything fun tonight. The third chemo treatment in the week always wipes me out, and I spent most of the day laying down. Melanoma could be one of those resorts that force you to spend 19 hours a day in bed. I should start a nail salon specifically for cancer patients who border on comatose like me for days like these. At least that way my toes (all 9 of them) would look good while I drool on myself.
Oh well, might as well make the best of it. When else in my life will I be able to say I was sedated for a full year? It's funny, I wonder what people on chemo did before the internet. I'd be going stir-crazy without it. There's a certain joy in internet porn.
So the PET Scan came back all clear, and I haven't heard from the CAT scan doctor so I'm assuming all is good there. Nothing like good news and knowing I don't have to get another scan for 3 more months. Ah, the life of a cancer patient. No news is good news, though, and if constipation is my biggest worry, I'll take it. I guess the worst part of the treatment now is all the drugs I'm pumping into my body. It's true, though, that Oncologists do give out the best candy. :)
Checked out PlanetCancer.com today; it's a great little site for young adults diagnosed with cancer. Lots of smartass comments about the old C word and plenty of sarcasm to go around. I enjoyed it thoroughly.
Lots of good stuff is coming up: I'm trying to get some of my art up on the ol homepage. Hoping I"ll be feeling good enough to go to Gilda's on Tuesday, and I'm planning a trip to San Diego next month, so if you need souvenirs, now's the time to put in your request. I'm personally looking forward to getting my own bobble-head chiuahua. You know you're jealous.
On a final and oddly serious note, I'd like to encourage everyone to visit the Lance Armstrong Foundation page or check with your local representative: cancer research funding may be cut for the first time in a decade, cut back to levels that will slow any additional progress so essential to cancer cures and cancer survivorship. I know this is a little Erin Brockavich-ish, but drastic budget cuts to cancer research are happening, and will continue to happen, if no one speaks up. You have to realize that cancerous diseases like melanoma have increased more than 100 percent in the last few decades, and we need to speak up to government to emphasize the priorities of our health. If this is an important issue to you, please contact your congressional representative at the United States House of Representatives, and urge them to stop any additional budget cuts for cancer research. This year 1.3 million Americans will be diagnosed with cancer.
Okay, so I'm off my soapbox. Now surf on over to your house of reps page and then you can get back to your Mystery Science Theater reruns.

-L

Miss Melanoma- it's like Missy Elliot, but with less Bling

Hey kids,
Just checking in with all of you on the latest and greatest in cancer news. I had my CAT scan done, and there's no word from the doctor, so my guess is my hypothesis about an alien giving birth to drills in my brain was way off. The pain still hasn't totally subsided, but it's alot better, and I'm taking those drugs like Liberace in a sequin factory. I also had a PET scan this week, and get results from that probably tomorrow. All I can tell you about that experience was that I think the tech was that guy from Deliverance. Scary, and they obviously don't have much of a dental plan there.
Anyway, not much else besides that goin on. I'm coming up on just 4 months of chemo left, and I can't tell you how awesome that feels. I have a new Dermatologist named Dr. Lee, and I feel good about him checking my "moles" regularly and thoroughly, if you know what I mean. j/k Anyway, we put together a little top ten list for old times sake, and I'll be in touch soon with all my lab results. Until then, keep your head in the clouds, and keep reaching for cigars.

-L


Top Ways to Know You're a Cancer Survivor

10. Your alarm clock goes off at 6 a.m. and actually you're glad to hear it. You then hit the snooze until 6 p.m.
9. That person who always invites you to lunch keeps pressuring you until you just say "You know, I really just don't like you."
8. You're back in the family rotation to take out the garbage.
7. When even the chemo can't stop you from the urge to choke the person who says, "all you need to beat cancer is the right attitude" or "you'll feel better if you get out and do something."
6. You've developed some wierd fascination for people in lab coats.
5. You use your toothbrush to brush your teeth and the lint roller to brush your hair.
4. You have a chance to buy additional life insurance but you buy a new
convertible instead.
3. Your dog quits "transitioning" ownership to one of your roommates.
2. When your biggest annual celebration is your birthday, and not
the last day of your chemo treatment.
1. When you look forward to the day you use your hospital parking pass less than your Visa.
0. You've got more track marks than Keith Richards, Sid Vicious and Courtney Love combined.
-1. Your blood counts levels are so low dracula wouldn't even bother stopping at your place
-2. Friends stop making that "oh" face. And no, we don't mean THAT "oh" face; they stop making the "Oh,- you- have- cancer- oh- face".
-3. You start to miss chemo, remembering just the good times like in a bad relationship.
-4. You've become a wig snob.
-5. You know how to spell the names of drugs that are 40 letters long and all consonants.
-6. The "Will you take the dog out? I don't feel good." routine isn't working like it used to.
-7. You start asking for all your stuff back that you gave away when you "got the news."
-8. You realize that when people are saying, "Hi, how are you?" it's really just mindless chit-chat again.
And the negative nine reason why you know you are a cancer survivor is:
You have loose stools for a week and it's a welcome change from the usual.

Masterbation ups Chemo Patients Bloodcounts

I read this yesterday on the internet, so it's got to be true, right. I'm not taking any chances. :)
Today I'm feeling better with my new Rx, and I got the ol' CAT Scan taken care of, so I'm excited to be finding out what's going on in my head, besides the now constant lure of masterbation.

I also thought y'all might enjoy a "top ten" list of how to respond to nosy questions. Pass it on, or feel free to use them on your own. Here's a couple of pics of my own scar, which I usually tell people is the result of a pigmy goat mauling. From some angles, it has an uncanny resemblence to another, more, um, let's just say attractive, body part. What can I say? Who doesn't love having a prosthetic-looking sex organ laying around on your leg?

And now the top 10 responses to nosy questions about cancer and scars....
10. Chemo? It's not that bad. I just think of it as an involuntary drug habit.
9. Oh, you should see how many presents I got. Made the cancer totally worth it.
8. No, that's not just a scar, it's where my fetal siamese twin was attached.
7. You think that's bad, you should see the other guy.
6. It's getting more and more difficult to smuggle drugs these days.
5. Oh that? It's just flesh-eating bacteria.
4. You'd be amazed how much you can get for black market organs.
3. That's where the aliens put the chip to track my movements.
2. I don't really remember it. Do you know what drugs they give cancer patients?
1. I should've listened to Mom when she said don't scratch that mosquito bite.

On a random note, check out this cool website I found here on blogger: it's called Post a Secret. They've even put a book out on some of the postcards people have sent in. I think you'll find it refreshing.

Hope all is well with all of you. Let's be safe out there, and I'll check in soon.

-L

Ah, the masses have spoken

Hey kids, I've gotten an email from a few of you asking for an updated blog. Remember a while back when I told y'all I don't like to really communicate when I feel bad? Well, I feel bad. In fact, this is probably the worst I've felt since this whole thing started. I'm not sure how long I've had this migrane, but it just keeps getting worse and I'm not sure what to do about it. About 2 hours ago, I took a Vicodin and 2 Midrin, and this is the first time I haven't had excruitiating pain in days. Tomorrow I get to try another Rx, and Tuesday is a CT scan of my head to see what's going on. Just not really in the mood to joke around much, but I appreciate all of your concerns. I'll let you know as soon as I get any news. Sorry for the downer, but don't worry: I'll be back to insulting and harrassing all of you soon.

-L

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!