Not for the Faint of Heart - Seriously

I was talking to my bestie a couple days ago about some of the funny stares and looks I got when we were at Nickelodeon Universe at the Mall of America last Wednesday.  I was confused at first by all the looks.  I thought it was because I was in a wheelchair.  I was explicitly told to "take it easy" for the next two weeks by Dr. Suwan - hence the wheelchair.  Aaaaannnnnd the fact that it hurt something bad to be walking.  So, naturally, the majority of us being curious by nature, will look and wonder why said person was in a wheelchair.  Then I saw one person staring his big googly eyes at my legs.  I was almost flattered until because of his big googly eyes, he almost ran into another person who was also staring with her big googly eyes at my legs as well.  Then the light bulb went off.  My new and awesome looking outfit that day consisted of a dressy t-shirt that looked fabulous w/ my new gray jersey knee length skirt.  For reals - finding clothes to wear that are comfortable w/ a JP drain stitched in my thigh is not easy.  Not to mention the fact that I had major surgery involving removing a bunch of important lymph nodes from my groin area which makes my thigh nice and swollen which in turn makes wearing jeans and pants and shorts WEIRD.

Sorry.  Tangent.  I did look really good that day though.

Okay - back to the light bulb going off.  I do need to backtrack a little here and explain my first surgery with the melanoma cootie.  When I asked Dr. Ideker to remove the mole from my leg (left shin to be more precise), she did remove the mole.  Then she gave it to the lab peeps and they biopsied it and that's when we found out it was not a mole but a tumor (um, ewww) and that tumor was melanoma.  Scary, aggressive skin cancer cootie.  That's when all the "fun" started.  Within 24 hrs I had appointments set up with Dr. Suwan, general and vascular surgeon extraordinaire, and with Dr. McCormack, oncologist who is the same age as me, maybe even younger but totally awesome.  Both Drs explained to me because of the depth of the tumor, which was 2.01 mm, the standard procedure, based on the size, was to remove all tissue down to my muscle 2 cm around the tumor.  That means a 4 cm circle of skin would be missing from my leg and would need to be grafted by my skin from my upper left thigh.  

That being said, surgery left its mark.  Clearly.  Very clearly.  I am almost used to it - this is the reason I was confused by the looks of people and kids at the MOA until my figurative, flashing light bulb went off.  I was wearing an awesome, comfortable knee length jersey skirt which left my leg that no longer needs a bandage around it out there for people to see and stare.  I guess I didn't think about it because I was wearing a compression sock (to keep the swelling in my thigh in my thigh - the compression sock stops the swelling from going down to my calf).  But, the compression sock is tight - really tight.  So tight my strong and studly husband puts it on me everyday (sigh - I love that man).  Because it is tight, it really molds into my leg - thus showing my crater size hole on my shin.  So, people are curious b/c a young and awesome looking girl in an awesome looking outfit is in a wheelchair.  I could almost hear them thinking "Oh wait - she must be in the wheelchair because of that... what is that?  A crater on her leg?  What?  Weird. Wait, I must look again and make sure she doesn't know that I'm looking again.  Because looking at an awesome looking, strange woman's leg is just maybe a little creepy...yada yada yada" 

Back to the bestie conversation.  We talked about it and I really did laugh about the people's reactions.  Heck - I stare at the crater myself because it is pretty bizarre looking.  That was when she, the bestie, told me that was what I should blog about next WITH PICTURES.  

So, as the title of the post indicates - this is not for the faint of heart.  My oldest daughter, T, still has a hard time looking at it.  When my third born looks at it, he exclaims, "It looks like a zombie head!" and then runs away a little scared.  E thinks its the coolest thing in the world and thinks it looks more like a zombie bite - not a zombie head.  And my youngest calls it "mommy owie."  Jeremy, when Dr. Suwan took the bandage off my leg to remove the staples (yup, I had staples. They stapled my skin graft over my crater.  15 to be exact.  I counted them after he removed them.  I really thought there were at least 30 b/c removing staples was not a pleasant experience at all) was a little green and a little in awe.  See, the first picture we took of it, we could literally see my muscle.  MY MUSCLE. No joke.  I will not be putting that picture on here.  That is a special request picture.  That is a "will give you nightmares" picture.  

You have all been warned.  Here are the pictures of my adventure into cancer cootie land...

Here's the before pic - see that red dot there?  That's where Dr. Ideker removed my tumor.  

 The after.  At least it's a nice circle of some sort.

  

Side view - this is what bothers me - how deep it went.  This is so much better from the first time I saw it but still.

My upper left thigh - this is where they removed the skin graft from.  

My awesome compression sock and what people saw at the MOA.  Poor guys!

I have one more picture.  For those of you wondering what the heck a Jackson Pratt (JP) drain is, here it is in all its glory except for the stitches.  The drain is stitched in my leg but again - it kind of creeps me out so I don't want to creep any of you out.  Use your imagination...

No - that is not pee!  It is lymphatic fluid.  Although my good friend Trish, who is about to pop with her third, exclaimed after seeing JP, "I want one of those!!!"  I hated to crush her hopes but told her it was not what she thought it was.  

So, that's that.  I am not responsible for any nightmares or weird and inappropriate dinner conversations from viewing these photos.  You were all warned...

A Hospital Adventure

I'm still here.  I will be here until they tell me that I can go home.  Huh.  That kind of stinks.  But, thank goodness for the "adventures" I have been having since being here.  I refuse to be bored while being stuck in a hospital.  I like having fun.  So, I'll share one of the funs I've had since being here on Tuesday.  And I'm going to go ahead and dedicate this post and any post that's hospital adventure related to my friend Al who has a hospitalization fantasy.  I hope these adventures live up to your expectations!

First off - to understand my adventures of mine, I want you all to understand where my infection is on my body.  It's on/in my inner top left thigh.  Right up by my groin.  The infection/redness goes right up to the 8 inch incision they made to scoop out my lymph nodes.  It's big and red and you know, nasty.  And, I have people checking me there all the time - doctors and nurses.  I have pretty much thrown my dignity out the window.  There is really no way to be modest about any of this so whatever.  And they are all nonchalant about it anyway so who cares, right?  Weeeeellll...

Adventure #1
Last night I was not feeling well.  One minute I was feeling great, laughing and having a good 'ol time w/ the husband and my awesome nurse Nikky, next I'm achy and tired and loopy and stuff that was not normal.  Told Nikky about it.  We looked at my infection and dangnabbit - it was spreading again.  Pooooooooopy!  Anyway, she went to page my doctor to find out what we should do and I decided to go to the bathroom.

Now, I can go to the bathroom by myself (thank goodness) but sitting on the toilet seat is something else.  It HURTS on the left side.  So, I have to lean to the right and then somehow figure out how to aim my pee into the "hat" they need me to pee in (they need to make sure I'm getting enough fluids and what not).  I pretty much laugh every time I go to the bathroom.  I'm sure I look ridiculous.  If someone were to walk in on me I'd either be really embarrassed or laugh right along with them.

Now, getting cleaned up afterwards is quite the adventure as well.  I have this really oversized hospital gown on (I totally rock it) and I'm connected to an IV.  The nurse anesthetist inserted the 4th IV (yes, I said 4th - please no more!) into a vein on top of my right hand.  It's not a big deal unless your a righty and you have to figure out how to clean yourself up after going to the bathroom.

Without too much details (I know, I'm too late on that), I pretty much throw an immense amount of fabric from my gown over my shoulder and then proceed to clean myself w/ my right hand (I tried with my left - it was impossible and quite funny too) without getting it dirty (because of the IV).  I'm not quite sure how it looks but I think it probably looks like some one trying to learn how to be a contortionist who's not one.  I really don't know how else to explain it.  Somehow, I was skipping around and accidentally pulled the red cord that says, "Pull for Help."  You know, the devil side of me has always wanted to pull that cord just to see what would happen.  Then the angel side of me beats the devil side of me over the head and tells him to shut up.

Tangent.

Let me tell you what happens when that cord gets pulled.  Remember, I'm cleaning myself up, looking like a contortionist who's not one, trying to work around all the tubes that are stuck all around me.  I was also leaning and balancing for some reason on my good leg.  Suddenly, there's a knock on the closed bathroom door mid clean and Nikky comes bursting in.  I scream AHHHHH! then fall but catch myself on the many bars they have on the walls for support and almost trip over the toilet.  I would totally watch that scene in my life over and over and over again. Can you just picture it????  I'm still laughing!  Nikky, fortunately, saves me from falling and life goes on.  I'm still laughing.  Yay for bathroom adventures!

Look, cancer sucks.  Getting a staph infection from something that is helping me get rid of cancer sucks too.  I was not happy about the infection spreading.  I'm not really happy about being in the hospital since Tuesday and then not really knowing when I can leave either.  I miss my kids.  I miss my husband.  Heck, I miss going to the bathroom the normal way.  But, it would suck more if I let it suck all the crazy and happy out of me.  Finding humor in crappy situations makes life more fun and I'm beginning to think cancer's scared of humor.  It shrinks it and makes it disappear forever.  Huh.  Wouldn't that be nice????

Me and Nikky

On a side note, Nikky was really scared when she saw the alarm go off from my bathroom.  I had just told her that I was feeling awful and woozy and we both agreed that my infection was spreading again.  Hence why she came bursting in like that.  I know I make light of some situations but I also recognize the gravity of them as well.  I'm just grateful for a nurse who responded by running into my room and into the bathroom like the superwoman she really is.  I'm surrounded by a lot of good nurses and doctors and PCAs who sincerely care for my well-being.  They are like my personal cancer cootie fighting army.  Yes cancer sucks but it's hard to feel down about it when I have an army like them fighting alongside with me!

Plus, who else would celebrate my going a #2 FINALLY by dancing?  I can honestly say I love you Nikky!

An Introduction of Sorts

This is the view I had from my window in the hospital this afternoon.  I've been here since Tuesday night.  My husband and I went to the emergency room, waited for 2 1/2 hours (people watched of course) got called back and saw doctor after doctor and nurses after nurses...I was poked and prodded.  I swear they took a gallon of my blood!

But wait, let's start from the beginning.  In a nutshell because there is a lot to tell.  Some of you know what is going on while others will have heard of this for the first time.  

The beginning started when my second born, E, was 7 months old.  I went to my primary care physician, Dr. Ideker, to have her tell me why my right foot hurt.  Turns out it was plantar fasciitis (a pulled ligament).  Then I had her check out my carpal tunnel.  Yup - it was confirmed that I had it in both wrists.  Then, while I was there I thought she could take a look at the lump in my neck.  I really didn't think it was a big deal.  I wasn't even going to have her look at it but why the heck not. As it turns out, it was a pretty big deal.  After doing a series of tests, a needle aspiration biopsy (worse thing ever), and a bunch of scans I was told by a doctor that I had Papillary Thyroid Cancer.  

Gulp.

I was 29 years young.  During the following years, I have had 3 papillary thyroid related surgeries.  The first surgery involved having my entire thyroid removed and the tumor that was found there.  I also had a round of radiation.  After all that, they put me on synthroid - a pill that is the exact replica of the missing thyroid hormone.  I have been taking that pill now for 7 years and will be for the rest of my life.  I have too.  I don't have a thyroid!  

The 2nd and 3rd surgeries were to remove the lymph nodes in my neck that were housing the papillary thyroid cancer.  Darn you, you cancer cooties!  I also had another round of radiation after my 3rd surgery.  Not fun.

So, I have had stage 1 papillary thyroid cancer for 7 years now.  

On to other news.  The one related to me enjoying the view from my window while typing this blog post on the hospital bed.  

April of this year, I again went to Dr. Ideker because I had a wicked infection on the back of my ankle.  I could barely walk.  It was grotesquely huge.  Shudder.  And again, since I was there, I asked her to remove the mole on the front of my left shin because shaving around it was a pain the in the bum.  

Well, she took it out, sent it to pathology and received the news two days later that I had melanoma.  What?!?!?  I had her repeat that again just to make sure I heard her right.  And, unfortunately, I did hear her right.  

So, since May 22nd, I have had 3 surgeries regarding my melanoma cancer.  The first one involved taking a huge chunk of skin off where the cootie mole was.  They cut all the way down to the muscle.  They took a skin graft from my left thigh to put in my gaping hole.  They also removed one lymph node from my left groin.That lymph node came back positive.  I am now at a Stage 3A in my cancer.

Double Gulp

Before my 2nd surgery, I had a series of scans to go through.  We all wanted to make sure that it didn't spread to any organs.  I had a PET scan and a CT scan.  Everything came back negative (meaning no cancer was found anywhere else in my body - thank goodness!)

My 2nd surgery then was to remove as many lymph nodes from my left groin as they could.  Since that is where we found the one infected lymph node, they wanted to make sure there wasn't any cancer in the other lymph nodes surrounding it.  I also had a Jackson Pratt drain stitched into my leg.  Since my doctor (Dr. Suwan) removed a major lymphatic system from my leg, the fluid had to figure out where to go from there.  Just in the interim, it was being drained into the JP (Jackson Pratt).  They biopsied all the lymph nodes and it all come back negative!  No gulping there.  It was a total Mary Poppins and Bert the chimney sweeper jump up and click my heels together feeling.  It was AWESOME.

But what about my 3rd surgery?  Well, the skin surrounding the draining tube that is stitched in my thigh became super infected.  We came straight to the emergency room Tuesday night (thank you Roxane and Deidre and Jason for watching our kids) and I am still here.  The infection turned out to be a staph infection.  I had surgery yesterday so they could flush out all the infected cooties out of my leg.  I now have a new JP (curse you JP) and am constantly being pumped with antibiotics through an IV.  I will be here until Sunday. 

Starting in August, I will be getting a series of interferon treatments, Monday - Friday for 4 weeks at the Cancer Care Center in Regions Hospital.  This treatment is meant to destroy all those cancer cooties the scans didn't pick up.  It helps so the melanoma doesn't come back in the future as well.

So, there it is - in a nutshell.  I've been thinking about writing a cancer blog for a while.  I'm hoping that through writing this down and sharing it to all of you will be therapeutic for me and perhaps others who are going through something similar.  

I know a lot of you will have questions.  Or maybe are just plain confused.  I hope to write a little more of each of those scenes of my life in more detail in the future.  For now, this will have to suffice.  

And lastly - this is what gives me hope:

E, T, K, and I

And this guy for sure:

Gorgeous me and Hottie husband Jeremy

Yup - it's all good.  Scary but good.