Praise God for answered prayers!!!

HOLY COW!!  I have been praising God to everyone who will listen to me for the last two hours or so.  God is so good!  Prayer request #1 was answered!!!  And it was answered in an even better way than I prayed for!!  When they first hired me, they only really needed me for 2 days a week.  I told the lady that I could do 3, to which she responded with "Great!  We can find stuff for you to do!  Math tutorials, SAT prep... We'll keep you busy!"  The closer it came to school starting the more and more terrified I got because I knew that I was physically incapable of doing 3 days a week.  Two days didn't scare me as badly.  I felt pretty comfortable committing to 2 days, but not 3.  But now I was in the awkward position of telling my boss "Hey! Remember that whole cancer and chemo thing?  Well, I don't think I'm fully over it.  In fact, I'm so tired that 3 measly days a week is too much."  Yeah... that's not the way you want to start out a job.  So, as I mentioned yesterday about prayer, I wanted to be able to go down to 2 days, and I wanted HER to bring it up.  I thought maybe it could be like budget cuts or something.  I knew the talk would be awkward for them to have, but I didn't care.  I'd pretend to be bummed, all the while rejoicing on the inside. 

But God answered it even BETTER than that!  NOBODY had to bring it up!  We discussed my schedule, and pretty much everything fell on 2 days as expected.  And before we could really talk about the 3rd day, I just said "Yeah!  Tuesday and Wednesdays sound great, with the occasional Friday if the kids are behind." So, occasionally I'll have a 2 and a half day week.  But it's only on an "as needed" basis.  I feel so relieved.  SOOOO relieved!  And nobody had to have an awkward conversation.  It all just worked itself out.  I am on cloud 9, and actually looking forward to teaching again, instead of dreading it.  God is so good.  And so specific!  And He does it even BETTER than we ask for.

Nausea

I wish I had a better report of how little side effects I have, or that the first round hasn't been so bad, but  I am really struggling with the nausea (and flat out stomach pain), which is what the doctor had suspected I would have trouble with.  I've taken the maximum amount of meds, and it is still a problem.  Poor John had to get up twice last night to bring me more meds: some anti-nausea pills, and eventually the pain meds to just knock me out.  I had to miss church today because my tummy was just so unhappy.

I am impressed each and every minute at what a selfless husband I have.  He doesn't act like it is a burden on him (even though I know it is).  When I whispered his name last night for the pills, it's like he immediately woke to attention, and jumped out of bed to go get me what I needed.  Today, when someone suggested I try some ginger ale (since ginger is known to settle the stomach), his first response was "Want me to go out and get some right now?"  He's got his 4 classes that he's teaching.  He's got his PhD comps to study for, and yet his immediate response is to do whatever needs to be done for my health.  I really couldn't ask for a better husband that him.  He amazes me.  I am humbled.

I called the doctor about the nausea, and they said that the only thing left was sleeping pills, to just knock me out.  I let them call it in, but I don't think I'll use those quite yet.  I am not overwhelmed to the point of needing to just be unconscious, though I might get there.  The ginger ale is actually helping a lot.  My main dilemma is whether/when to call work.  I only have a two hour session tomorrow.  I feel like I can make it through it.  I've just got this fear of throwing up in public.  And who knows, I might be through the worst of this by tonight.  I'll probably call somebody just to check in though, and let them know what I'm thinking.  I really don't want to miss out with my student tomorrow.  I really do adore him.

On a happy note, I've got a new friend!  There's a cat that has suddenly started hanging out, and has sorta adopted us.  As dorky as it sounds, I actually feel a little better when I'm sitting with her and petting her.  Animals to me are therapeutic. (I am sooooo my mother's daughter...) I think it just takes my mind off my body. It's like God just sent me a little silly piece of love, wrapped up in a furry bundle.  He hasn't forgotten me. She can't come in (though she tries!) because of John's allergies, so we just gave her a little basket with a towel on the porch, which she loves.

Day 1 of Chemo

Well, all in all, not too bad today.  The day started out fine.  One of my kids did something that kinda worked a number on me temporarily.  He's not a bad kid.  He doesn't know what is going on, so this wasn't on purpose.  Sometimes he just gets in moods where he doesn't want to work, and he'll start saying random answers like "pineapple", "blueberry" when they have nothing to do with the topic.  Today, suddenly he randomly made a cancer "joke".  (not really a joke, but a light-hearted comment of some sort).  Normally I'm pretty jovial and smiley, but I felt everything suddenly drain away, and I said softly "Don't make jokes about cancer."   He still looked a little defiant and said "Cancer kills, man."  I got even more soft and serious and said "I know."  I  think he could tell something was up at that point.  And unlike some 16 year olds in other schools, he didn't take advantage of seeing the teacher get upset and then try to keep poking at it for fun.  It was nice to see that he was sensitive enough to realize "Holy crap, something is up.  Don't bring up cancer again".  He probably just thinks that someone close to me has it or had it.  He didn't act up for the rest of the class.  I could feel myself start to tear up at one point (we were about 20 minutes away from me leaving for chemo).  I just had to excuse myself temporarily and collect myself.  I never fully got my game back, but thankfully it happened in the last 20-30 minutes of class, and not in like, the first 5 minutes.  (We have 2 hour sessions)

John met me at school, and took me to the hospital where mom was waiting for me.  Then, like the amazing husband he is, he went out to get me a "last meal" of sorts: all sorts of fantastic-ness from "On the Border".  Salsa, chips, enchiladas with sour cream sauce, some kind of gordita... He is awesome.  Dr. Le met with us for a little while to tell me what to be expecting.  My friend Anne has been going through chemo, and she said that they had told her to expect the nausea and side effects to start on day 11, which they did.  Unfortunately, I don't get quite that much lag time.  Dr. Le said I should be feeling them by tomorrow, if not tonight.  I already have started feeling the cold sensitivity.  It's hard to describe, but it is an interesting sensation.  It's actually kinda cool feeling.  I'm sure the  novelty will wear off.

When they put me in the back with all the chemo patients, they hooked up my port, and then the lady said "Now, this might make you a little bit sleepy..."  Aaaaaaaand that's the last thing I remember for about 2 hours.  Ha!  I think I needed a nap.  I think my sleep's been a little spotty lately.  Can't imagine why... When I woke up, I still had about 2 hours left, so I was able to talk to a close friend from Hawaii that I had lost touch with, and then played some words with friends with Mom.

I'm back at her and Dad's place right now.  She and I were just watching some TV, when all of a sudden I could feel the queasiness starting to descend.  I don't think it is too bad yet.  I took one of the less powerful anti-nausea pills so I can save the big-guns for when it is getting really bad.  I'll keep them by my bed tonight, just in case.  I think I'm going to go to Mom's Bible study tomorrow, since all the women supposedly want to meet/see me.  THEN!!  Mom is being awesome by taking me all the way to Fort Worth to have this one place give me a hair cut.  I haven't had one in over a year.  They are the best salon I've ever been to hands down (It's called "Cut Hair Salon" in Fort Worth) They are amazing)  I want to get a little bit better cut because.... Yay!   A photographer friend of mine from Fort Worth is going to do a shoot for John and me.  We haven't had any photos done since our wedding, so I figure now is the best time.  I also wants some pictures of me before I start looking all scary-like.  So, that's the motivation for the new 'do.  On Friday, I go back in to be unhooked from this current drip that I have to wear for 44 hours, and then Saturday, Tracy Autem Photography is doing a shoot with me and John.  It'll be different being on the other side of the camera.

So, that's the update: emotional beginning, sleepy start, good conversation, Bible study, hair cut, unplug friday, fancy photo shoot saturday.

OHHHH!!  And the most important tid-bit:  Yes. Yes I am rocking a fanny pack with the stuff attached to my chest.  And yes I am accepting offers to sew/bedazzle/bling up one the worst fashion faux-pauxs of all time and bring it back to sexy.

Work, and an attitude adjustment

I don’t think I’ve had the best attitude about work these last few weeks.  I have felt so tired, somewhat defeated, and just… lazy.  Well, I call it lazy.  My family and doctors refers to it as “normal” or something crazy like that.  When my body feels sick, the whole world takes on this shadow of doom: everything is overwhelming, and everything seems to be an impossible task that I can only surmount by practically killing myself.  At least that is how it feels.  The future, even if it’s just 2 hours of work the next day, feels impossible, and I have dreaded it.  My attitude was along the lines of “I can’t wait to have an excuse to take extended leave”.  What a cop out!  It’s like I wasn’t even planning to fight.  I was just resigned to feeling like crap.  It was just a fact of the matter, a decided fate. 

But I feel like I have turned a corner today.  I realized something.  No, I take that back.  I remembered something today.  I really do love what I do.  I do.  I legitimately like my kids.  I can’t share too much about my students, for privacy sake, but I’ll share a little.  I have this one boy whom I suspect has had it drilled into him that he is stupid, stupid, stupid.  Every question I ask, he’ll start to say something and then stop himself and mutter “No, that’s probably wrong.”  A good amount of the time he isn’t wrong.  He just expects that he will be.  If he does give a wrong answer, or if he is just drawing a blank, he sits there and verbally says “Gosh!  I’m so stupid!” and other degrading comments about himself.  You don’t get that way on your own.  Someone has to have “encouraged” you to think that way about yourself.  I get to be that other voice.  (Well, I and the other teachers of course)  Every time he thinks that he’s wrong, but is actually right, I get to remind him that he needs to trust his brain, because it is a good brain.  I get to tell him how capable he is, because he really does have a good head on his shoulders.  What will I do if I don’t get to be the one telling him that week after week?  I’ll crumble on the inside.  I live for, and I love, being that person in his life.  And not just him, but the rest of the guys as well.  I have another kid that I’ve just recently discovered mainly thinks in pictures.  He isn’t autistic or anything like that, but he just has this mental block when it come to big science words.  We are now going through his Biology 2, taking notes via pictures (not an easy task).  We are going at like, a quarter of the speed that we technically should, but that is why this school is so amazing.  I have the freedom to do what’s best for the student, and ensure that he is learning, and not just shrugging my shoulders, and compromising the process to ensure that I can pass him along.  He is a challenge, and I love reveling in the fact that I don’t have to deal with someone else’s timeline.  I can do what is best for him. 

For the first time since my diagnosis, I have felt the fight welling up inside me.  Everyone kept telling me what a fighter I was, but I didn’t agree.  I felt pretty resigned.  But I’m not anymore, or at least not today.  I want to fight.  I have the best excuse in the world to take time off, and I don’t want to anymore.  I had pretty much closed my eyes, and prepared myself to take the punches, and merely endure.  But I think I’ve changed my mind.  I think I might want to swing back.  I might end up going down in the end (as in having to take a leave), but I don’t think I’ll go down without a fight anymore.  It was a good day. 

Port successfully installed...but...

Sorry I haven't updated.  The port surgery went well, but it is much more "uncomfortable" than I was expecting.  I haven't been able to really use my left arm.  It is much bigger than I thought.  It is about the size of two Oreo's stacked on top of each other, and it is right under my left collarbone.  It feels a bit like a torn muscle when I try to move my arm, though as far as I know, there were no muscles torn.  I'm guessing it is just the pressure of the "super port" against all the muscles.  Yes, it is called a "super port".  I don't know what makes it more super than a regular port.

I am typing this with one hand right now and it's kinda slow going, so I'll bid adieu.  Please pray for this to stop hurting so much.  I had to call my work to tell them that I STILL wasn't going to be able to come back because of my inability to move my arm.  They are being awesome with all this, but I'd still like to be as UNflaky as possible.