Buh Bye, Roid!

In case you haven't heard.....I'm cancer free!!!!

5 days ago, on the 5 month anniversary of finding out my hoo hoo had been invaded by an evil monster, I found out the monster had officially been defeated.  Roid is dead.

I went in for my PET scan at 7:45 am and just hours later my doc called to give me the awesome news.

As you read in my last post, this definitely isn't the end of my journey, but it's the part of my journey I've been looking forward to the most.  Captain Obvious.  I know.

I have a lot of people to thank for all the support I've received and that will happen soon, but for now I'd like to send out a blanket Thank You to everyone who follows this blog and who has sent encouraging words.  The support - even from complete strangers - has been incredible.  Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I have an idea for those curious minds of yours.  I get asked a lot of questions about my journey.  So my next blog post is going to be a Q & A.  I want you to send me any questions you have about my diagnosis, my treatment, my recovery....anything.  You should know by now that I'm not one to hold back, so you can make the questions as personal as you'd like.  You can comment on this post, post a question on the Red Shoe Adventures Facebook page, send me a private message....whatever floats your boat!

Thank you for all your support! 

Out of hiding

I know, I know I kind of went into hiding there for a while, huh? To tell you the truth I went quiet for a few weeks to spare you from my crankiness. I was pretty darn miserable and I was afraid I'd only write mean things. To sum up the last few weeks of treatment: cancer f*cking sucks. And not so much the cancer, but the side effects of the treatment you're suffering through. Did you know that radiation burns you? Like leaves marks, burns you? Like need to use creams in places only babies should need creams, burns you? Reason #284 why Lesley will never be a bikini model. Throughout all this miserableness no matter what advice anyone gave me, nothing was helping. I just had to wait it out. So I did. And here I am. Burned parts and all.

The good news is I'm using less toilet paper these days....if you get my drift. The doc said to slowly introduce foods back in my diet to see what I can tolerate. I took that as go eat everything you've been craving for the last 2 months but couldn't eat (I might not be great at following directions). I just look at it as celebratory gluttony.

Because of my increased visits to the potty, I've lost a considerable amount of weight. Listen, I've been walking the fine line between being obese and overweight most my life, so normally losing 25 lbs in a matter of weeks would be cause for celebration. Losing 25 lbs from having stupid cancer mess with your insides? Not cause for celebration. This may be why when people see me now and say "You've lost so much weight! You look great!", I cringe. I know it's a gut reaction (pun not intended, but I'm keeping it) to say this to overweight people who have lost weight....I know, I've said it before too. But don't say it to normally overweight people who lost weight because they've been through 7 weeks of hell.  I'd rather be fat. Take this as a public service announcement. Please.

So what's the plan for the future, you ask? (You didn't ask, but I wasn't sure how to segway from fat talk to....anything else). It's been about 2.5 weeks since my last treatment. I meet with my oncologist in about a week and as long as everything looks as it should, I'll go for a scan in a few months and cross my fingers that Roid hasn't returned. As for the immediate future, I'll be returning to work soon. I miss interacting with adults. Being a stay at home mom while trying to rest and recover was not an easy gig. I think my kids are ready to get rid of me.

I haven't explained much to my kids about what's going on. My 5 year old just knows that mommy went to the doctor everyday and that something is wrong with her belly. Even though they didn't know, they helped me celebrate on my last day of treatment - along with my husband, my parents, my partner in crime - Aunt Jean, and 2 of my amazing friends. There is a bell in the lobby of Roswell for patients to ring on their last day of treatment. On the first day of my journey at Roswell, I took a picture of this bell. I took it so I could have it with me as something to work towards - someday I'd ring that sucker. But then in the beginning of my journey, part of me wanted to skip the bell because I thought it would be mean to other patients who had a longer journey than I did - those who wanted to ring, but couldn't. But as I progressed and met other patients, I saw how supportive of one another we were. And as I neared the end of my treatment, at my most miserable point, all I could think about was that damn bell. I would ring it for me and for my pals I waited in the radiation waiting room with - day after day. I would ring it for all the amazing staff that helped me every day. I'd ring it for my supportive family and friends. Being able to walk out of the radiation department and ring it in front of my family and friends and have everyone in the lobby cheer as I did it - Best. Feeling. Ever.

I wish I could end this lengthy post with "and that's how I beat cancer"....but I didn't...yet. I survived treatment, that's what I did. I'm so happy it's over for now. I'm not sure why I got this rare form of cervical cancer....but I did. Did it make me stronger? I'm not sure. It definitely taught me a lot. I know/have known way too many people with cancer. I can safely safe that until you go through this yourself, you just have no idea. I had no idea. 

Zap!

Forgive me for not posting last week?  Happy Belated Valentine's Day!  We didn't go out for a big dinner but I bought new underwear!  Ha!  We'll just pretend it was a normal Valentine's Day.  The woman that checked me out at the store even gave me a sneaky look and wished me a Happy Valentine's Day when I was buying them.  Sorry, lady, while I'd like to say I bought them for the holiday of love, in reality, I have to drop my pants for a group of strangers on a daily basis and something needed to be done. Romantic, eh?

Ever wonder what radiation treatment is like for a cervical cancer patient?  I walk in, drop my pants, lay on a table, and a giant machine rotates around me and zaps in just the right places.  The picture below is of my actual treatment room.  They gave me 3 tattoos around my belly (my first ink!) before I started treatment so they know where to line me up.  Then they make sure I'm in the right position using lasers and machines in the room. I have a wonderful crew that sets me up each day and gets to hit the magic buttons.  They're kind of my personal batch of super heroes.  They get to shoot the bad guy every day!  They're after you, Roid!

So this is the eve of week 5.  4 weeks complete!  Yahoo!  Yippee!  According to the current plan, tomorrow will be my last chemo treatment and I'll finish up with about 3 more weeks of radiation.  While it sounds downhill, we start a new adventure next week.  These past 4 weeks I've been receiving external radiation.  Starting next week, 1 to 2 times a week, I'll be receiving internal radiation - also known as brachytherapy.  Unlike my current quick and easy daily morning zaps, these treatments will take hours and involve me getting anesthesia - like the epidurals I had with the kiddos.  It's called internal radiation....so they're going in!  Ugh.  I'm not thrilled.  I'll let you know how it goes!

Also, in case you're keeping tabs...still not keeping any food in.  I'm looking forward to being done with treatment and being able to eat.  This is ridiculous.

And The Adventures Begin

On December 16th, I went to my annual checkup "down there". Like most women, I find these appointments annoying. I mean...they're kind of a hassle, they're intrusive, they're just not fun.

It was a good thing I went to my annoying appointment because 8 days later, on Christmas Eve, I was told I had cancer.  Excuse me? Me? No. This was not on my Christmas list. I'm 33. I'm fairly healthy. I ran a half marathon 3 months ago, for the love of pete. But, yes, it's true.

Now that we have the biopsy and scan results, I know I have Stage 1 Cervical Cancer. There is a golf ball size mass inhabiting my cervix.  His name is Roid, by the way. Roid is a jerk. We're not friends. Due to the size of Roid, surgical removal is not an option so I will be starting Chemotherapy and Radiation treatments in the next few weeks.

This is not the kind of adventure I envisioned for 2016, but you know what?  Bring it on, Roid. You're going down. You don't know who you're messing with.

I invite you to join me on my adventure. There's no worrying though....we got this.

I'm at Roswell today for my "quick and easy" surgery. 

Here we go.