and I'm Craving...

Apparently seeing naked men and human feces has emboldened me.

Twice this week some things have come out of my mouth or flown off my fingers before I could even stop them. I surprised even myself.

Situation 1:
Ending a day long meeting, standing around with my boss and a Board member who at times makes people incredibly uncomfortable with inappropriate jokes or random statements. Not inappropriate like talking about boobies, more like offhand comments about euthanasia. Most of the time it takes the world a minute to understand it was supposed to be a joke. Part of me thinks he gets off on the shock, another part of me is pretty sure he's somewhere on the autism spectrum and completely misses the visual and social cues of the people looking horrified around him.

This was another one of those moments - his attempt to make a joke. So he says to us, "wow, I cannot wait until the day when government has complete control over my entire life and all of my actions and personal decisions."

Says me: "Well, if you were a girl, that time would be now."

Crickets.

He goes PURPLE. My boss chokes a little and thankfully decides she agrees with me. He sputters. We leave and have a glass of wine. I say I'm sorry but I'm not. Because its true. And to see this man blush, well, that was an unexpected bonus.

Situation 2:
Oh F*cefuck, why do I even bother?

A friend posted something on her wall yesterday afternoon bitching about the barrage of pregnancies and cravings that magically appeared in her feed. I wrote her a quick personal message basically saying, "F FB, let's go get some fries at the baseball game tonight." Soon enough though, the situation revealed itself as one of those ploys to get women to post something cryptic in their status updates and DON'T TELL THE BOYS only to say a week later, ha ha it was a joke, this was all for BREAST CANCER AWARENESS. Get it? Aren't we clever? We got you all talking and now you can talk about breast cancer.

One problem: the status update is supposed to say "I'm xx weeks and I'm craving xx" and there's a little formula you do with your birthday to fill in the xx's.

Because that's shocking, right? You're neighbors and friends won't know what's going on. Everyone will be confused and then you will say, oh I'm just kidding. This was for breast cancer AWARENESS. Get it?

I don't get it. I don't get it at all.

I tried to let it rest, shake it off, go enjoy my baseball game and fries. But the more I thought about it, the more it cut me to the core. So, I posted this:

I'm sorry. Explain to me how status updates related to gestation and pregnancy cravings promote "awareness?" Cancer is no joke. It's not cute. It's not funny. And FYI, a major long term effect of cancer treatment....infertility. This survivor is not playing along.

And then this:

And you're only supposed to share it with your female friends. Because, of course, in this magical world of FB, men don't get breast cancer.

And then I realized I just couldn't let last year's "awareness" theme go:

Last year, the theme was what's your bra color - which I 'm sure felt AWESOME for any breast cancer survivor who's been forced to have a mastectomy. I guess the point is to get people talking about cancer. I just wish the conversation were even remotely on point.

You know I take issue with the pink shit anyway. This isn't even getting into that. God knows I could rant about that. All. Day. I won't bore you. But there is SO MUCH that is wrong with this on so many levels.

So I decided to call it out. Because honey badger don't care.

Honey badger don't give a shit. (that one's for you, L)

Elm City Dad

Left me absolutely breathless with his latest post where he talks about changing in order to exist alongside that fact that his beautiful Silas no longer does:

He will never change, and I cannot do anything else.

I am not joking when I say that this is now printed out and sitting in my day bag. I am waiting for the moment to share it with M. Because I think he will find some peace in knowing that we, that he, is not alone. That he is not the only one that expends so much effort to simply try and exist in a state remotely similar to what he was before. Happy. I gasped when I read these lines. Because they are so painfully true:

I’ve been living with this fact for 8 months now and I’m just completely fucking exhausted by the daily wrestling match between what I want and what I have. So I’m trying to stop that internal battle and simply resign myself to the facts at hand.

There is resignation here, but not of the hopeless kind. At least, that is not how I read it (or internalized it)

I think you should go read it too.

Pills vs. Pokes

If mom knows, she didn't give any indication of it over the holidays. And I appreciate that. There's something to be said for bourgeois suppression of emotions.

Got a call from the clinic the day after Xmas to let us know our donor is in tip top shape and began her protocol on the 27th. I was relieved to hear that we'd only be ruining her New Year's Eve and not her entire holiday. I really was.

Me, I'm just poking along. Literally. A daily morning injection of lupron now supplemented with estrace in pill form. You know the routine. First 2 mg, then 4, now 6. And after several "oh sh*t! the pills!" moments in the first few days, I think I am finally on a pill taking schedule that I can remember and follow.

Why is it that, even though the pills are just as vital to this whole process, I see them as less important or rather, easier to forget than any injection? My body's alarm clock is fine tuned to jump out of bed in time for my morning shot yet twice this week the afternoon has whiled away before I remember to take my lunchtime dose of estrace? I could blame the holidays and the disruption in my routine. Or, I could admit that I am just like scores of cancer patients who are not as timely with their meds as they should be.

I was not surprised by an article entitled, "Use as Directed" in the Fall issue of my Cure magazine.

Therapy in a pill has recently freed many people with cancer from an I.V. pole, giving them the ease of treatment already available to those with heart disease, diabetes, asthma, and other conditions. But with convenience comes a phenomenon long known in other fields: Treatment that is easy is also easy to forget.

Too true! The article states that costs and side effects are among the top reasons that patients neglect or choose not to take their oral meds but also

sometimes, when viewed through the prism of surgery, radiation, and hours in a recliner watching medicine drip into your veins, a little tablet can seem inconsequential.

I am fully aware that taking/not taking those little white pills is not inconsequential. And I will have ultrasonic proof of that come January 4th. But I do understand the dilemma. I even remember seeing my switch to radiation therapy from chemo as a sort of "down grade" when it happened so long ago. (How ironic, then, that radiation has caused so much more permanent and irreversible damage than chemo ever did). In a way, I am almost relieved that I didn't have the option of chemotherapy in pill form when I was in treatment. It would have been that much more for me to screw up.

So, to recap:
me and our donor are doing just fine.
She with her meds; me with mine.
I promise not to forget.
And in two weeks we'll be set
To start jamming that PIO in my behind.

I hadn't meant for that limerick to happen. It just did. Sorry.

Super Great News

Great News #1 - I start lupron December 5th thus marking the beginning of a new DE cycle. That's just a little more than a week away. Good lordessa, has anyone been so eager to begin a daily routine of needles and pins?

Great News #2 - Remember way back when I told you about this scholarship fund for young adult cancer survivors? And how the application involved all kinds of paperwork and essays and the like? Well, I just got off the phone with Sam from the SAMFund and it turns out I am one of this year's recipients!!!!

They received three times the amount of applications this year, which was completely unexpected. Their funding rate dropped from 60% to 38%. But luckily, thankfully, blessedly, I was among the 38%. The scholarship fund allows you to apply for up to $5000 for fertility-related expenses. I will (or rather, my clinic) will be receiving $2500!!! Just in time to help for this cycle.

What news. What great, great news. Happy Thanksgiving indeed.

Thank You!

To lift my spirits even more, I saw that wifethereof nominated me for a Rocking Girl Blogger. Well, gosh. Thanks! This happened before the cancellation so I don't even consider it a pity vote.

I think that it is now my duty to nominate five more women as Rocking Girl Bloggers. Here are my votes:

1. Drowned Girl - currently carrying twins (and a little nervous about it) thanks to donor eggs. DG is constantly supportive and encouraging and shares a slightly different twist on the process since her donor is actually a friend.

2. Daisy at Behind Schedule - Because she is assertive and understanding at the same time, and still on track to start her DE cycle soon.

3. H at Mi Historia - Because I am a wanna be earth mother too!

4. Stacyb at Why Not Me? - This fellow survivor and DE recipient has finally broke down and bought some maternity clothes. That's not a jinx; it's the only legitimate reason I can think of for grown women to wear adorable jumpers! And lastly,

5. Julie at A Little Pregnant - Because dammit, when I grow up I want to write like her.

Are you Sure?

It is so funny how pieces of life randomly collide. I got a call from my old social worker yesterday morning (old as in, was my social worker 20 years ago when I had cancer). He had seen my testimony on TV and couldn't stop talking about it! Not only that, but he shared it with my pediatric oncologist and all of my old nurses, one of whom is apparently in charge of the statewide association for pediatric oncology nurses. Besides all of this being very sweet and surprising and flattering, he extended an invitation to come speak to the nurses association - about my current line of work and also about survivor issues.

Are you sure? I said. Because I have a lot to say.

This same social worker couldn't remember that the last time we talked was back in March when we were looking for recommendations for egg donation programs. In fact, he sounded surprised and pretty fascinated when I gave him a quick update of where we were in the process. I am sure it was probably too much information for him, but hey, I wanted to give him a preview of my talk with the ladies.

So, a completely unrelated incident that just happened to be televised has just opened the door for me to work with pediatric oncology nurses to help them try to understand some pretty serious issues facing childhood cancer survivors - infertility being #1 on the list. I am pretty stoked about that.

Re: dinners, I will be hosting one tonight at our house. It's my dad's birthday and my parents are in town after a brief stint at the hospital for dad. Pneumonia. Perhaps I haven't mentioned but my parents' health is not great. Dad's lungs are absolutely shot after 4 decades of chain smoking. Frankly, I was shocked that he made it through all of this moving business without ending up in the hospital. This bout struck while he was in Delaware, moving some stuff into storage down there and relaxing for a few days in their temporary home. My last call to him interrupted him flirting with the nurses at his favorite clinic. Reason #33 for them to move to Delaware. Apparently, the hospital food isn't too shabby in this clinic either. Anyways, his birthday gives us a nice reason to get together while they're in town. And I prefer to control the menu. My place it is.

Lastly, got a random call from a doctor from our clinic last night. One that we hadn't worked with before. Apparently, she is part of the "committee" that met yesterday to discuss our decision to move forward with our donor after a failed stimulation attempt. She wanted to hear again our reasons for doing so, so I gave her the run down - the same one you've read here. Perhaps I came across as defensive, but I wanted her to be clear that we were clear. We understood the risks and appreciated their desire to be sure that we were sure. I asked her if the committee had reservations or if they as medical professionals had information or knowledge that we didn't. Basically, I asked, did they see this as a fool's errand?

She said emphatically not and the committee was surprised that the previous cycle hadn't worked since the donor is otherwise healthy and the mother of two healthy children. After we talked, she said she was glad we had the conversation and that they had worked out a new protocol for our donor, one that would let them (and us) know almost immediately whether a stimulation would be successful or not. I am expecting a call from Nurse this afternoon to review the new protocol and schedule, which, of course, I will post as soon as I know.

Hey, but what about...

My friend sent me this article the other day on long-term childhood cancer survivors. Not bad, but other than a fleeting mention on page 2, it is missing one critical piece. The "probably sterile" one on page 10.

I'm not angry. I'm not bitter. I am just hopeful that as the circle of survivors grows and becomes a powerful demographic and social voice, those of us with the fortune to survive and the misfortune to do so before freezing eggs was even a possibility will be more than a footnote or one sentence in an eight page article.

SAMFund

Surviving And Moving Forward: The SAMFund for Young Adult Survivors of Cancer has recently opened their 2007-2008 grant and scholarship application process. The grants and scholarships are for post-treatment, "real life" needs such as rent and other living expenses, tuition and loans, car and health insurance premiums, residual medical bills and prescription co-pays. The organization will provide up to $5,000 for fertility options/procedures. Applicants must be between 17 and 35, finished with treatment, and residents of the United States.

For more information and to download the application, please visit The SAMFund website.

Best believe I am applying.

Needles and Pins

It arrived today. Just like they said it would.

A big box of meds. And needles. Lots of needles.

Oy.

Have I mentioned my unhealthy fear of needles? Have we talked about that? I know poor hubby is sick of hearing about it.

I cried at our training yesterday afternoon. Not because anyone was doing anything cruel or unusual to me, I was just wigging out at the prospect of daily injections for the next four months. four months! And that's if everything goes well.

What's the problem? You're wondering. It's just a little prick and then it's done. And think of the potentially wonderful result!

Yes, yes. You are 100% correct. But that doesn't change the fact that the times in my life when I have been in the most pain, in the worst way, can all be attributed to needles. Blown veins. Bone marrow aspirations. Chemo sessions gone bad. Multiple attempts to insert IVs only to hit nerves and then watch as they try again. All of this shit that I have managed not to even think about over the last 20 years comes flooding back at the sight of those fucking bags of needles.

I know my girl Rae knows what I'm talking about.

My pal S, who somehow always says the right things to soothe me and get me thinking straight, said this to me a while back during one of my first needle freak outs: She reminded me that all of those other times were imposed upon me. I had no choice. It was someone else inflicting their cures and treatments on me.

This time, it's all me. It is my choice. My decision. And that in itself should be empowering.

It is. Kind of.

We invited our pal H to dinner last night. Ok, we called her up and forced her to meet us downtown so we could ask her a huge favor. H, you see, just graduated nursing school, is getting ready to pass her boards and is almost a fully qualified nurse. She also lives across the street from us. Both hubby and I knew we would feel better if she were willing and able to walk us through our first couple of big shots (not the Lupron. Don't think all of this is over the Lupron. Its the big "P" that has me shaking.)

This also meant that we had to expand our little circle of folks in the know. Which we feel a little better about now that things are actually happening. Out of the theoretical, into the logistical.

She was completed unsurprised when we told her we were trying to have a maybe baby (which surprised me). She was honored and thrilled at the idea of being asked to shoot me in the ass. She loves this kind of stuff. She, like S, did a lot to allay my fears. I can tell she and hubby are already planning a progesterone poking regiment.

We are also planning to spend some time together this weekend celebrating the great things that are happening in our lives. New career for H. New love interest for our mutual pal C. And possibly, maybe, you know what for us. Good times, man. Good times.

Can't Hold Back

I know Mother’s Day is still two days away but I’m no good at waiting.

Congratulations to a fellow cancer survivor and traveler on this egg donor adventure, Rae!

Let me shout another Happy Mother’s Day loud enough so another childhood cancer survivor H can hear it all the way across the ocean. 14 weeks and counting!

Rae found Maybe Baby shortly after my first post. I am so glad she did. Through her blog, I found Mi Historia, the story of a fellow “wanna be earth mother” which leaves me crying and laughing and believe it or not, longing for London. I love these blogs. I love these women. I love that there really is hope for a full and fertile life after cancer.

Happy (early) Mother’s Day to all the hopeful maybe mommas.

Bricks without Straw!

Here are more questions from our new patient form that I didn’t know how to answer:

How long have you and your partner been trying to achieve pregnancy?

Who have you told about your struggle with infertility? Have they been supportive?

And then there are categories of family, friends, co-workers, etc. and you’re supposed to check off who knows and who has helped us with our “struggle.”

Is it really a struggle if you know out of the gate it’s not gonna happen? Can you really handicap a racehorse that doesn’t have any legs?

Everyone that knows me knows that I am a cancer survivor. Many in that circle know (or have assumed) that I can’t have or don’t want kids or both. I have probably spent most of my adult life convincing others and myself that I have no interest in kids. Not my own; not anyone’s. Not now. Not ever.

No eggs = no baby. It’s not rocket science.

So, why yearn for something you can’t have? Why set others off on a wild goose chase as well? It’s easier to believe you were never really looking for anything in the first place.

Isn’t it?

Well, now, in a matter of a few short months, all of this has changed. After being dissuaded from the egg donor option years ago by a fertility specialist who felt there were already far too many babies in the world (remind me to tell you about that one), we found a place that has encouraged us, listened to us, and actually given us hope. We found a woman who is willing to share a few of her eggs with me and she doesn’t even know my name.

This is something completely and altogether different.

What do you mean I could have a baby? This changes everything.

So now that there really will be a race, so to speak, things are much less certain. All the definitelies, nos, abosulutely nots, have transformed into possiblies, maybes and could bes.

Now who becomes my circle of support? Whom do I tell about the journey we are about to embark upon? A few close friends and my mother-in-law are no brainers – women who have known me inside and out for years. Even if I didn’t tell them, I feel somehow they would know.

Likewise, a few parties will NOT be brought into the loop until much, much later. Like, my parents (emotional basket cases with problems of their own, prone to excessive worrying and calling daily) and my father-in-law (who cannot keep a secret to save his life).

Some of my co-workers know; some don’t. Most of our friends don’t. My brother, nope. Hubby’s sister, not her either.

Not really worried about any of that. I am sure as the process moves forward and changes in our schedules and lifestyles become apparent, people will start to catch on. Here’s my quandary: what about my childhood cancer survivor friends? I know they would be my loudest cheering section, my strongest supporters. I also know they know the stakes, and might be a little more emotionally invested than others. Which would be joyous if this all works…

I sent a few emails out this morning and my fingers were itching to share the news. We found a donor! We are trying to have a baby! But is it all too premature? What’s the protocol for this kind of thing? When is the right time to call in a circle of support? Who and how and when do I talk about the struggle?