Now wait!  My friends with shoe obsessions like mine do not fear STILETTOS DO NOT CAUSE CANCER!  That would truly be injustice in life.

As many of you know, I have a deep love for shoes....all shoes...but in particular high heeled shoes....and STILETTOS!  Any outfit is made better with the right pair of shoes.

Since I have been working at home since my surgery in November my shoe selection has been mostly flats.  Even I don't wear heels with my yoga pants (well not often).  So once I started going back to the office the heels came back out.  Now my legs are telling me they are confused because they've spent all this time adjusting to flats and low heels to now get used to 4 inch heels again.  Of course it causes a bit of discomfort but it is always worth it for a good pair of heels.

When I had my first really painful episode of cancer in my spine it manifested itself as severe leg pain - quads, hams, calves along with hips and lower back.  At first I attributed it to the fact I was basically as mobile as a lump of dung and my legs were screaming from use again but in fact it was the fucking cancer doing the mambo in my spine.

You can imagine my concern when I started to have quad and hamstring pain on a periodic basis.  I tried to key the pain to certain situations to try and differentiate it from the pain I had in November.  Lo and behold I noticed the following:

1.  Full day at work in 4 1/2 inch platforms = leg pain.

2.  Saturday night party in 4 inch stilettos = leg pain.

3.  Tuesday night NNJ ILP for www.youngsurvival.org in 4 inch heels = leg pain.

4.  Full day at work in 4 inch heels = leg pain.

You get my point right?!

So I go to chemo and tell Erika (Doc head and neck onc's PA) that I am having periodic leg and lower back pain again.  She smiles at me and says "what is your self-diagnosis?"  Ah............in just a short 5 months she knows me so well!

I tell her about my association between my shoes and my pain and she smiles.  What would most people do? WEAR FLATS!  What do I do?  CONTINUE TO WEAR MY HEELS!

Now even I can be sensible so last Monday I was in NYC and wore a sensible shoe with a 3 inch stack heel.  Nothing pointy, nothing wobbly but what I consider a stable sensible shoe.  As I walked to Pier 11 to catch the boat back home I am rushing.  And what do I do, I stumble off the curb and twist my ankle.  Excruciating pain!

When I get home I realize I actually did damage because the ankle is turning purple and swelling.  Fuck really???  Come on, I have cancer.  Give me a fucking break here!!!

I spend all last week working at home with my foot elevated, icing it and using homeopathic anti-inflammatory gel.  By Friday it is looking and feeling much better.   Being my sensible self - yet again - I go to chemo in a black (of course) ankle boot with a 3 inch stack heel that will support my traumatized ankle and avoid any twisting off of a shoe.  To me this makes complete sense!

Heard at chemo...............

Erika:  WHY ARE YOU WEARING HEELS? PUT ON FLATS!

Me:  THESE ARE VERY SENSIBLE SHOES THAT SUPPORT MY ANKLE.

Doc Head and Neck Onc:  WHY ARE YOU WEARING HEELS? PUT ON FLATS!

Me:  THESE ARE VERY SENSIBLE SHOES THAT SUPPORT MY ANKLE.

SO HEAR THIS CANCER! YOU CAN TAKE MY TITS, MY OVARIES, MY CERVIX, MY UTERUS, MY HAIR, MY ENERGY BUT YOU WILL NEVER TAKE MY HEELS!!!!!!!!

After checking in with the very sweet and friendly Stanley at the reception desk at my oncologist's office, I proceed to the single unisex bathroom in the waiting room.

To give you a visual setting, the oncology offices, exam rooms and chemo suites are beautiful.  Very clean lines, open and airy, lots of light and very spa like.  The bathroom is large and beautiful - something you might see in a nice home and unexpected in a typical oncology office.

As a refresher, when men pee they stand up and aim for the bowl, when women pee, they squat. Therefore, when a woman is wearing pants, like I was, and they pee they need to pull down their pants and the pant legs/hem will likely hit the floor.  This is what happened when I used the bathroom before entering the exam and chemo area.

After pulling up my pants and walking to the sink to wash my hands, I noticed dirt prints from my shoes near the toilet.  I thought AHA my shoes are wet and leaving prints.  My mind instantly screams: FUCK!  SOME GUY MISSED THE BOWL AND I STEPPED IN IT!

Then to my horror I realize my pant hem is wet.  EEEEK!  URINE, GERMS, DISGUSTING!

Of course I'm completely pissed off (and now pissed on) and immediately swing my right leg up onto the countertop and put my foot (shoe on) and pant leg into the sink.  I MUST WASH THIS OFF OF ME!

The countertop is pretty high so the angle created with my foot in the sink basin creates a downward ramp from right foot to right ass cheek.  Therefore when I run water over my heel, ankle and pant hem.............the water proceeds to RUN DOWN MY RIGHT LEG ALL THE WAY TO MY ASS!

I am now wet from heel to ass and it looks like I have pissed on myself!  Mortified.............to say the least.  And I need to see the doctor and get my chemo so it's not like I can hide in the bathroom for hours!  Someone would notice......................

I walk out of the bathroom and stand in front of Stanley and say:

Stanley, we have an issue in the bathroom.  Some guy pissed on the floor in front of the bowl.  My pants got in it and in an effort to wash off my pants I got water all over myself and my pants creating a bigger mess and basically got water over most of the bathroom floor.  If piss wasn't bad enough, I created a water hazard where someone can slip and fall.  I think we need a clean up. 

Of course I couldn't leave it at that and proceeded to tell Stanley I don't understand why the hell guys cannot hit the bowl.  And to top that off I felt the need to explain that DAMMIT IF CAN STAND UP AND HIT THE BOWL WHY CAN'T MEN AND I DON'T HAVE A PENIS.

I think the kind old gentleman in the waiting room was going to need the cardiologist in addition to the oncologist after that little Lisa display.  Stanley all the while laughing in his so subtle and cute way.

Now friends, you don't really think it ended there..............do you??

I go to the exam room to wait for nurse Denise.  When she comes in I entertain her with this story and she says "sit on the guest chairs...don't sit on the exam table...you're wet".  We laugh and she says, I know exactly what you mean about the pants leg..........it's the Piss Chronicles!  Thank you Denise for tonight's blog title!

My oncologist arrives with a very quiet male med student in tow shadowing her.  Now, she is a very bubbly, energetic and funny woman.  I go to the sink to wash my hands and OF COURSE, I tell her the story as the quiet/shy male med student looks on.  My most important words to this young man eager to learn about the world of oncology were:  YOU KNOW I DON'T HAVE A PENIS YET I CAN HIT THE BOWL STANDING UP - WHY CAN'T MEN??  I seriously thought he would crawl under the exam table and wait for me to leave.  My oncologist is hysterical laughing.

The good news is my pants begin to dry.  By the time I hit the chemo suite, the pants are in pretty good shape. 

I get my chemo with the fabulous Heidi as my chemo date.  We eat, drink and chat for hours then walk the 35 city blocks to the boat dock and I go home. 

Steve arrives home about an hour after me and we start to catch up on the day.  As I tell him about chemo I realize

I'M STILL WEARING THE PANTS.  I SCREAM, STRIP OFF THE PANTS AND START TO TELL HIM..............THE PISS CHRONICLES

A/K/A CANCER INDIGNITIES............BECAUSE HAVING CANCER JUST ISN'T ENOUGH.

I decided I am no longer having scans.  I am now having portraits.

That's right. 

Lisa we need you to have a Brain MRI.   Oh a portrait of my brain - why yes!

Lisa we need you to have a PET/CT of your whole body.  Oh a portrait of my body - why yes!

Lisa we need you to have an abdominal MRI so we see your liver.  Oh a portrait of my liver - why yes!

Now let me back up and tell you how I got here.

With my 2 prior breast cancer diagnosis I did not have to have follow up scans.  I periodically had a colonoscopy (highly recommend the propofil) or an ultrasound here or there but nothing that really concerned me.  Now that I am metastatic my scans have a whole new meaning.  They signify what's to come next or whether we stay the course.

Having now had numerous scans starting with "what's that golf ball on the side of your face" scan to "let's see if we are killing the fuckers in your spine" scan I decided these are not simply scans but portraits of my body.  They have much more meaning than a mere picture and hold the keys to my future.

I've been taking chemotherapy since Dec. 16, 2011 and had 1 month of fabulous and fun spinal radiation.  It is now time for follow up portraits.

Sitting 1 - Brain portrait

Results:  Unlike the Scarecrow, I do have a brain and It is clean!

Sitting 2 - Endoscopy

Results:  Gastritis most likely from radition (you will see a recurring theme here)

Sitting 3 - PET/CT Full Body portrait

Results:  For those Inglourious Basterds fans - I'm in the killing cancer business, and, cousin, business is a-booming.  That's right!  Those cancer fuckers in my spine are leaving the portrait (visualize the living portraits at Hogwarts).  In fact, one spot has literally gone to ZERO - that's right from cancer to NO CANCER.  Now the other spots still show activity but it has dramatically decreased.  YES WE ARE WINNING THE WAR!

Oh wait............dem bones are doin great but.........there appears to be some activity in your liver.

Rembrandt we need a liver portrait please!

Sitting 4 (one week later) Abdominal portrait so we can see the liver. 

Now of course I'm hoping that all those years of being a raging lush will finally pay off and be the cause of the PET scan activity.  I mean seriously, all that booze has to have some benefit!!!

As I wait for the results of what is in my liver I am doing research on treatments for liver metastasis.  I want to be prepared if the news comes back not so good and know my options.  This time I want to go big and go agressive - ablation, cyberknife, surgery.....make sure if this is liver mets I kill it and kill it for good.

Results:  DRUMROLL PLEASE.........................CLEAN!  Yes folks that is correct.  No liver metastasis.  They think the activity is related to damage to my liver from the radiation.  Shit if they told me there were small green trolls living in there waiting to come out through my asshole for St. Patty's Day I would have cheered.  Just so long as IT'S NOT CANCER!

The score is Lisa 1 Cancer 0 - DUH WINNING!

Ah yes, New Orleans.  Land of crawfish, Hurricanes, Beads and Boobs.  Now I know there is much more to New Orleans but, well, um, ok, so I can't really tell you what it is.

As some of you know, I was in New Orleans attending the Conference for Young Women Affected by Breast Cancer, www.c4yw.org, that is a co-venture between Living Beyond Breast Cancer and Young Survival Coalition.  What a concept right???  New Orleans and 600 women many of whom have fantastic and perky fake boobs!  A bead throwers delight!!!

This was not my first time attending C4YW but I was there as the President of the Board of YSC and it was my first time attending since being diagnosed metastatic.  This made for a very different experience. I've attended a number of these conferences over the years and was generally there as a "long term survivor".  Even after my local recurrence, I still considered myself a long-term survivor because my recurrence was local and taken care of rather swiftly.

Now I was metastatic and that is a whole different world.  Of course if you don't know me, you would not know that fact unless you read my blog or some other post that states that fact.  I must admit that I was a bit out of sorts.

I recall when I was attending a young women's support group after I moved to NJ and I was cancer free.  Women with breast cancer look at other women who are cancer free as role models and as hope.  If they can be healthy and fine then so can I.  When I had my recurrence I felt somehow that I had failed other women by not staying cancer free.  It may sound odd to some of you but I believe other survivors will relate to this as I've heard this from other women as well.  Multiply that feeling exponentially and you have what I was experiencing as I took the stage on Day 2 of the conference to introduce the last speakers of the day.  I was metastatic after 7 years cancer free and somehow I had failed my breast cancer sisters by not staying healthy.

In a weird twist of timing, as I introduced myself and said I was a 3 time breast cancer survivor the audience applauded essentially drowning out my statement that I was diagnosed metastatic in Nov. 2011.  Did anyone really hear?  The real question is, does it matter?

Finally on Day 3 I started to feel comfortable in my new skin.  Of course that timing was not great since the conference ended on Sunday.  As the conference ended, I spent an hour or so with another young survivor who I met last year on Tour de Pink.  We simply got to know each other better.  We talked a lot about who we are, how we got where we are in our lives and how we relate to our cancer and other survivors.  It was a great conversation and I know it helped me tremendously.  Many people tell me how much my attitude and my fiery self help them cope with their cancer.  That energizes me, motivates me and makes me feel that all I'm going through has meaning.  It was so happy to feel that from someone else.

What most people don't realize - especially my amazing survivor sisters - is how much strength and hope I get from others.  Being at that conference was very, very hard in the beginning.  But meeting all these other women who are metastatic and doing really well was huge for me.  It gave me much of what I'm told I give to others.

So as I said goodbye to New Orleans I'm sorry to say I did not have a Hurricane and I did not get any beads for showing my fabulous fake tits.  In fact, I don't think I've ever left a conference without a sizable bar tab.  Talk about disappointing people.  I feel that I somehow let down the bartenders!!!

But what I did get was another step in the assimilation process of my new life with cancer. 

But what did we say last post and what will we say again????

I AM LISA.  I AM A LAWYER, A DAUGHTER, A LOVER, A FRIEND, A PARTNER, A SISTER, A CYCLIST, A VOLUNTEER AND A CANCER SURVIVOR.

FUCK YOU CANCER.  YOU WILL NOT TAKE AWAY WHO I AM AND YOU DAMN WELL WON'T KEEP ME FROM MY LIFE.

Most people try to avoid going to work.  Me I could not wait to get back to my office.  And no, not because I need face time or to suck up to my boss.  Because I need the human interaction and to feel I'm a part of the human race and not just a cancer patient.

Cancer survivors always talk about their "New Normal".  What will be the every day life after being diagnosed with cancer - physically, emotionally, socially and professionally.  For everyone it is different.  Obviously the majority of my experience and the experiences I have witnessed have been with breast cancer and breast cancer survivors.  Grappling with body image issues after mastectomies, loss of hair and then new hair, the fear of recurrence, will people want to be around me and how do I focus on work again.  These are just some of the issues I have dealt with and my breast cancer sisters have dealt with.

So as we know, I've been working remotely since my parotidechtomy on Nov. 22nd.  I had no intention of going on disability and was happy I had a job I could do remotely.  Many people at work comment on how great it must be to work at home every day, work in your sweats and not have to commute.  I must admit the no commute is awesome considering I drive 60 miles each way 4 days a week. 

However, working at home, especially on days when I would not have the energy to leave the house was very, very isolating.  As those who know me understand, I'm not really the solitary type on a regular basis.  While I enjoy my alone time, I really enjoy being around people.

On Feb. 9th I went to my office for the first time since Nov. 17th.  I realized I would not get much done because I would want to say hello to so many of my colleagues and spend time catching up.  I also knew I had to take that first step to getting back to my sense of normalcy.  Essential in the mental game for survival.

I must say it was wonderful to be back.  ADP has stood by me since the day I started in Sept. of 2004 (2 weeks after my recurrence) to date.  I am not one to drink and then spout the corporate kool-aid but I certainly realize that what I experience is not what everyone experiences.  And I know personally some of my dear friends whose experiences have been the exact opposite and have been driven out of their jobs once they were diagnosed with breast cancer.

For me, going back to work was sanity and part of me getting back to the job of living my life.  I'm going to the office 1 day a week to stay in touch with my job, my colleagues and to get me out of the house.

As I've said many times, I will not let cancer rule my life.  I'm realistic that it will be a huge part of my life from now on and will always be with me in one way or another but I never have and never will define who I am by cancer.  Work continues to keep me sane and help define who I am.

I AM LISA.  I AM A LAWYER, A DAUGHTER, A LOVER, A FRIEND, A PARTNER, A SISTER, A CYCLIST, A VOLUNTEER AND A CANCER SURVIVOR.

FUCK YOU CANCER.  YOU WILL NOT TAKE AWAY WHO I AM AND YOU DAMN WELL WON'T KEEP ME FROM MY LIFE.

It's hard to believe that a week ago today I was puking in Laura's car and on the streets of NYC.  A the good ole days!

To finish off the hospital story I will quickly regale you with my last day on the concierge floor.  After drooling with jealousy over the gourmet meals everyone else was eating I was told in order to go home I had to have a solid lunch and make sure I could handle it.  So with that, and knowing how desperately I wanted to go home, I perked up, took a walk and focused my mind on eating and keeping it down and in.

Anyone who has spent any time in a hospital (and I know there are many of you) know that they tell you in the morning you will be discharged and it is usually an all day event.  In keeping our eye on the really important things Steve and I focused on trying to get my ass discharged before rush hour!  I mean seriously weigh the importance here - small bowel obstruction resolution - NYC rush hour - small bowel obstruction resolution - NYC rush hour.  Well at least we knew I was feeling better because I was focusing on something other than my intestines!

After visits from the parade of doctors, nurses, patient care people, concierge folks and anyone else who might wander by lunch arrived.  This was my big moment to shine!

Chicken broth with rice, toast and applesauce!  I know, every single reader is jealous.  I can feel it through the computer.  Steve and I had a lovely lunch - he had veggie burgers - sitting at the retro table by the window looking at the view of NYC.  And now, to focus.

Seriously, imagine this.  Your sole focus is to spend the next few hours on not puking and hopefully taking a dump.  I mean is this what I've been relegated to????  Hoping my orifices don't betray me?

The good news is all went well and we were released.  The ever amazing Steve drove us home and I was so excited to get in my pajamas and curl up in my own bed.  And to continue to annoy everyone with how wonderful Steve is, he made me soup and himself some dinner and served it to me in bed with the "breakfast in bed" try and ate there with me.  Yes, I'm an extraordinarily lucky woman.

And that my friends is the story of my small bowel obstruction.   I know you are thinking what can she possibly do to top this??!

Hopefully, life will be dull from here on in and the only news will be good news, good scans and good health.

And now, off to eat!

Let me start by doing something I failed to do in my last post and that is thank my colleague Laura.  Thank you for taking me to NYC and thank you for letting me puke in your car.  I don't know if you did it for a promotion, a raise or because you are a good person but either way.....thank you (you know I'm kidding about the promotion right and raises are coming anyway right?!)

And now...........on to our hospital stay in Chez Private Hospital Digs.

Once I was settled in to my comfy, cozy hospital bed Steve - exit Stage Left.  He went back to work to pick up his car, drive to our house, get the cat settled for an overnight alone, pick up clothes for him and pajamas for me.  No hospital gown for this chickadee!

While Steve did the whirlwind NJ tour, the faithful Jill got a babysitter and entered Stage Left.  While I hung out and puked and cramped, Jill made sure the nurses were on top of my every need and that I was entertained as well. 

The crazy thing about hospitals is you need to rest and get better.  Yet they wake you every hour to check your vitals so you never realy get a good night's sleep.  In my case we were also waiting for radiology to call and say LISA FRANK - COME ON DOWN! for my abdominal catscan. 

In order to have a productive ab catscan I needed to drink a liquid that would make it easier to see what's going on down there.  Ok, let's recap.  I cannot keep anything down, even water and we now need me to drink an entire water pitcher of foul tasting fluid for a catscan.  Something seems counterintuitive here - but hey - maybe it's just me.  The good news is over the course of an hour and a half I was actually able to sip on this tasty beverage and drink it all in anticipation of my 11 p.m. catscan. Oh did I say 11 p.m.  I'm sorry, my mistake.  It was actually 2:30 a.m. when they wheeled my tired, sore and pukey ass to the ER catscan facility (only place open for scans at 2:30 a.m.) to take pictures of my intestines.

Let me tell you, a NYC ER at 2:30 a.m. is quite a sight.  There are people on beds lining the halls and in every available nook and cranny.  I realize once again how fortunate I am to have a bed to call my very own in this hospital.  It made me sad to think that it's not that way for everyone.  Definitely makes one think about access to healthcare and who gets what and how.  But enough of that..............on to the fun stuff!  The catscan.

After they took a few pics of my intestines my personal wheelchair attendant came back downstairs for me and took me to bed.  Another added benefit of the room was they brought in a nice comfy cot for Steve so by the time I went up, Jill went home to her family and my beloved was in the room waiting for me to return. 

And finally, sleep.............................UNTIL THEY COME IN TO CHECK MY VITALS AGAIN!!!  Please I love that you want to make sure I'm okay but come on.............LET ME SLEEP!

I must mention however the incredible nurse Kristen, my night nurse who took such wonderful care of me.  She truly was amazing.  The nice thing about this floor was there are only 20 beds so each nurse had around 3 patients - great ratio.

Really all the nurses and the patient care folks were absolutely amazing.  As much as I joke that I couldn't get any sleep the truth is they were all incredible and caring.

Tuesday morning rolls along and it is clear I'm spending another day in paradise.  Welcome today's nurse for the day Matt visiting from his normal gig in ICU. Matt was excellent and very witty and intillegent.  He started the day with the "News of the Day".................they need to figure out what's going on (or not) in my intestines and - oh yeah - YOUR BLOOD SUCKS!  My hemaglobin is way low as is my white blood count. And so my next First - BLOOD TRANSFUSION!

Before that blood bonanza I was lucky enough to take a shower in my beautifully glass tiled huge bathroom with Molton Brown toiletries.  The lovely and caring Dorota made sure I was all safe and sound in the shower and changed all my linens and towels while I made myself smell better - well just a bit.  Nothing makes a girl ready for a blood tranfusion like a hot shower and clean hair!

This is kinda freaky to think about them putting someone else's blood in my veins.  But if I rely on the info from the fabulous Stephanie, damn girl you will feel like new once they transfuse you.  So I keep that in mind because as doc onc said, if it were not for my brightly colored eyeglasses I would have simply blended into the white sheets of the bed.  That's how pale I was. 

I am officially a VAMPIRE as I have feasted on the blood of another.  But disappointingly I do not have Edward's super human strength and unlike Alice I cannot hear what others are thinking.  Hmmmm....be careful what you wish for!

And.....................I completely understand why athletes blood dope.  DAMN, I FEEL GOOD!  MY  CHEEKS ARE ROSY AND I'M STEPPING OUT FOR A NICE LONG WALK IN THE HALL.  Seriously a little fresh healthy blood does wonders for a girl!  2 Pints of blood and I'm moving and grooving!

The last puzzle piece has arrived and the results of the catscan are in.  Drum roll please....................................and the winner is:

SMALL BOWEL OBSTRUCTION!  ANOTHER FIRST!!

What does this mean you ask?  It means that all that lovely spinal radiation caused so much inflammation and irritation that my intestines closed up a teensy bit and the crap that normally flows through them created a little wedge and obstructed the flow.  Thus, nothing moved anywhere except out the wrong way - PUKE and PAIN!  The good news was it looked like the obstruction had started to dissipate by the time the scan was taken so I should be on the mend! 

Did I say YEAH SIDE EFFECTS FROM FUCKING RADIATION?  Medical community - we must come up with a better way to treat cancer patients that doesn't land them in the hospital from the side effects.  Take note please!

I forgot to mention the coverage shift for the day.  Steve went to work, Jill covered the midday "watch Lisa and keep the staff in line" shift and Ann Marie covered the later day into evening when Steve returned "watch Lisa and keep the staff in line" shift.  I was well covered and protected at all times. And as an added bonus the always funny and sarcastic Stephanie dropped by with coloring book and crayons for me and Jack Daniels for Steve.  Talk about making friends!

One interesting phenomenon was the number of doctors that "just stopped by to see how I was doing".  In a way I felt like a bit of an oddity because these docs were sometimes related to my doc oncs and sometimes not but they knew of my parotid case and ensuing case history and wanted to see how I was doing.  I guess it's not a bad thing to have a bit of notoriety when being treated at a large hospital with lots of great docs and resources.

Now the 24,000 dollar question..........what did I need to do to get sprung from this joint?  As lush and lovely as the concierge floor was, I still wanted my home.  Doc onc said we need to make sure you can tolerate food and go home basically without puking, pain and all that fun stuff.  The good news now is, I get to try some solid food made by the private chef on the floor.  It's now gourmet dinner time for me, Steve and AMC.  Ok, so more gourmet for them than me.

Steve and AMC have monkfish with veggies and mushroom polenta.  AMC has heirloom tomatoes with mozarella and Lisa has plain pasta with butter, mushroom polenta and chicken broth with little tortellinis/spinach and tomato chunks.  Yeah food! 

Unfortunately, this lovely gourmet meal does not sit so well with my intestines.  I am now back to having pain in my gut to the point that I cannot sleep. My wonderful Kristen who is the same nurse as Monday night and truly an angel agrees I need a painkiller so it's DILAUDID time.

I now know how people can become drug addicts.  In the past, I've had Dilaudid or Morphine through a pain pump post surgery.  It's carefully measured how much you can get at any given time and it completely manages the pain.  I honestly never felt "drug fucked up".  Well let me tell you, a syringe full of Dilaudid into your IV in your port is a whole different puppy.  That warm feeling overtakes your body and I seriously felt the most amazing rush of heaven from that drug.  And boy did I get a good night's sleep.  Next to the Propofol pre-colonoscopy, Dilaudid by IV is my new favorite drug!

I floated into a euphoric sleep dreaming of hopefully getting discharged the following day.

To be continued..................................

As I've noted in the past, I don't write for the sake of putting something out there.  I will only blog when I have something interesting or entertaining to tell.  Well friends.............have I got a doozy for you!

I think we can all agree that as we get older, we have fewer "Firsts" in our lives.  I'm pleased to say that this week, I had a few "Firsts" and I must say, I can DO WITHOUT THEM!

As we know, our action hero has been undergoing spinal radiation to torture, mame and kill those little cancer fucker cells living in my spine.  The good news is the pain is gone meaning we are winning the war against them.   The not so great news (I don't like bad news) is the radiation goes through my intestines to my spine so as the treatments pile up, the irritation to my intestines increases.

Fast forward to last Sunday night.  What a joyous day!  I went out for breakfast with Steve - a Sunday morning tradition we've forgone for a bit since radiation and to make it a double whammy I had a real dinner Sunday night - Tofu and Pasta!  Woo hoo!  We are on the mend in our belly and things are getting back to normal.  ummmmmmm......well..........not exactly.

Monday morning arrives and I'm a little queasy which is not unusual.  Pop a Zofran and hope for the best.

At 10 a.m. I'm on a work conference call and I put it on mute to take a little puke break.  The muscle spasms in my belly are continuing to get more painful as well.  Hmmmmm...odd because my stomach is sensitive but I haven't really puked much.  Always nice to puke during a work call too.  I get back on the call and my colleague emails me and says "You don't sound great, do you want some company?".  Smartly, I say yes.  Bring your laptop and you can work remote with me.

Little did I know how smart that would be.  While I wait for her to arrive, I continue to puke.  Now I'm getting a bit nervous so I call my oncologist and tell him what's going on.  He says "Come on in to the office and we will get some fluids in you and take care of this".

Hey colleague - guess what?  Road trip to NYC!!

So off we go to NYC to doc onc's.  Plastic bags in hand in case I puke in the car, we cruise through the Lincoln Tunnel and head over on 40th street.  And here comes one of the firsts...............I puke in the bag in the car, miss a part of the bag and throw up down the sleeve of my down coat which includes my sleeves of my cashmere sweaters!  Yeah!  I've never puked down my sleeve before!!!  I don't recommend it by the way.....

Oh and how to win friends, puke in their cars.  Trust me it is a WINNER!

Now let's face it.  I have definitely thrown up on the streets of Manhattan before but in the good old days it was because I was a: too drunk or b: hungover.  And by the way, no one in NYC notices someone puking on the street or for that matter hanging out the side of a car puking.  And yes, that was me.  We pulled over on 40th and Park and there I was with the passenger door open puking bile on the streets of Manhattan.  At a certain point I thought to myself, self, how the hell are we going to get to 70th street without fouling the entire interior upholstery.  But, it subsided long enough to get to the doc onc.

And who was waiting for me at doc onc? The amazing, supportive and always wonderful Steve.

The short version is, no matter what was tried, the puking and the muscle spams would not stop. At this point I am like a wet dish rag, have nothing left to puke and simply want to curl up in a ball and go to sleep.  Unfortunately sleeping and puking don't go together. 

And now, another first.............WE HAVE TO ADMIT YOU TO THE HOSPITAL  What?  an unplanned hospital visit?  Unheard of.  I'm not packed, I don't have my pajamas or my skin care, my friends don't know I will be there so we can't have a party in the hospital room complete with adult beverages.  This is outrageous!

On top of that.............there are no rooms at the inn so we have to admit you through the Emergency Room.  Yes folks a NYC emergency room on a Monday night - wow.  The upside was it wasn't a Friday or Saturday when I'm sure the gunshot wounds would have been prevalent.

So doc onc's office plops my sorry ass in a wheelchair and wheels me across and down the street the 2 blocks to the ER. 

Now, let's be real folks.  No matter how sick I am you can be damn sure I am getting a room at the inn and it will be a private one.  I am not fond of sharing my misery with a roommate and for every surgery I've had, I've been in a private room.  In between puking, gut pain and wheeling, I'm emailing a dear friend who "makes things happen" at the hospital. 

I will say, the folks in the ER were very nice.  Staff and clients included.  At one point Steve went to find out when I could be seen and as I sat there retching my guts up into my cute little pink plastic bin a complete stranger came over to me and held my hair back and rubbed my back.  She just stood there and comforted me.  And who says New Yorkers aren't nice!!

Finally they bring me into an ER bed and quite kindly they put me in an area somewhat isolated because they know I'm getting chemo.  Just as the docs are starting to talk to me....DING DING DING - your room is ready!

Off we go from the ER to admitting where I continue to offend everyone with my puking in the big pink bucket.  I'm literally in a wheelchair with this pink plastic bucket heaving my guts up - what's left of them - in every room I go to in the hospital.  I guess I can put that as another FIRST!

Finally, I am wheeled to my room and it is an oasis in the midst of chaos.  I end up in the only  private room open in the whole hospital at that given moment and it is on the concierge floor where all is quiet, peaceful and makes you feel everything will be okay.........................and it will.

To be continued.....................

One of the things I find most frustrating these days is my inability to get a good night's sleep.  Now this is from someone who is an excellent sleeper.  Generally speaking I can sleep anytime anywhere.  I get that trait from my wonderful Dad who can literally sleep sitting up in a chair at a table with a newspaper open in front of him.  You have to get close to see if he is actually reading quietly or sleeping.

For those of you who knew me when..................you know I could sleep anywhere, anytime.............but I digress..............

Adequate and solid sleep is essential for the healing process and to function during the day.  Given my current relationship with radiation and the fact that they are frying my intestines as collateral damage from the spinal radiation, I have to find the best combination of drugs to avoid puking or crapping at night while still being able to sleep. 

I take Zofran during the day but someone suggest Compazine at night because it can make you drowsy.  Help sleep right?!

WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Common side effects of compazine:

1. Restlessness

2.  Sleeplessness

3.  Jittery and agitated

So now that I know why I am:

1. Restless

2.  Sleepless

3.  Jittery and agitated

How the fuck do I get to sleep.  Wait, I will have a glass of wine.

WARNING: DO NOT CONSUME ALCOHOL WITH THIS MEDICATION.

Really???  You're keeping me awake and now you won't let me drink to fall asleep.

And I thought cancer was unfair.............................................

G'nite!

Yep, that's right.  Cancer, chemo, radiation....just not challenging enough so add in a little food poisoning and you have complete and utter fucking misery.  And to top it off, my cohorts in food only got sore stomachs so my lovely compromised immue system jumped right off the boat and into the full blown kill the stomach waters.

I won't bore you or disgust you with details but let's just say I AM NOT A WIMP and I was freaking miserable.  Pretty much slept all day Monday (for those of you who wondered why I fell off the face of the earth). 

To add insult to injury (because who doesn't love a good cliche), the first thought was that the radiation was wreaking havoc with my belly so I did not have radiation on Tuesday.

Thanks cancer!  First you fuck with my gut and then you make me miss treatment.  Well, SCREW YOU because you cannot beat me.

Yesterday was a recovery day.  Hey, I'm used to saying that in relation to cycling, not vomiting.....Oh how things have changed!  I had a visit from the lovely and amazing Gs who took great care of me with gifts (fun ones - they read the blog!) and heating chicken broth for me.

Back to radiation today since we now know it was not radiation that destroyed my insides (well not this time).

And today, as I sit here trying to eat a bit and drink lots of fluids and tea, I get this searing pain through my mid section every hour or so.  MUSCLES!!!!!!!!!!!!  I've been sitting on my ass since Nov. 22nd and my muscles have turned to fluff.  When one vomits one uses certain stomach muscles that aren't always used.  It's as if I had a crazy hard ab workout and am feeling the pain.  YET NO SIX PACK.  HELLO!!! MCFLY!!!

So the point of this post:

1.  Food Poisoning Sucks

2.  Food Poisoning does have the side benefit of weight loss

3.  Postponing radiation is not ideal

4.  Cancer sucks

5.  CANCER WILL NOT DEFEAT ME

Have a lovely day!