When I was dying...

I've been meaning to write this post for awhile. But it's a hard one. Hard to think about and hard to talk about.

Last summer I was sick. So sick I was in the hospital for a month and then in a live-in physical therapy center for awhile after. At various points my friends thought I might not make it. My doctor thought I might not make it. Even I thought I might not pull through. But I thought we'd done an okay job conveying to Brynn that while I *was* very sick, the doctors and I were fighting very hard to get me better.

None of my friends took a picture of me during that time. I think that's one small way of knowing they're good friends. Jason Isbell sings a song with the lyric "One thing that's real clear to me, no one dies with dignity." And it's true. When your body gives out on you, it's ugly and shameful and very, very undignified.

At first I'd tried to ban my friends (and especially The Boyfriend) from coming to see me. The doctors had catheterized me and I was peeing in a bag. I didn't want *anyone* to see. I was even ashamed in front of my nurses. But I kept getting worse and my friends knew that even though my pride might be hurt, I needed them there. So they came anyway.

They kept coming too. They watched over me and watched my stats. They watched me get worse and my muscles get so weak I had a hard time lifting a teaspoon. They told the nurses when something wasn't right.

And Brynn came to see me. We tried to time her visits to where I would be alert and able to communicate with her, but it didn't always work out that way. I was so sick.

And so when I found this picture on Brynn's iPod a couple of months ago, I asked when she'd taken it.

She'd labeled it "MY MOMMA"

I assumed she'd say "when Katie brought me to visit" or "the day Valerie and I went to TJ Maxx then came to see you." I was not prepared for her answer. She said "when you were dying."

Not when you were really sick. When you were dying.

Cancer is so hard on the person who is going through it, but it's just as hard on the people who love that person, if not harder.

Brynn has been through so much since I was diagnosed when she was just 7 years old. I've been sick for almost half of her life. Think how scary that is! All the uncertainty of thinking the one constant in your life, the person who takes care of you, is dying.

And in that moment, when she really thought she might not see me alive again, she took a picture. Because even though my friends wanted to preserve my waning sense of dignity, Brynn just wanted one last picture of her momma.

The In-Between Scan

For those of you who have been following along, you know my last PET/CT scan showed some new activity (a spot) and that I was going to have a follow-up CT in a month to see what's going on.

Well it's been a month!

I went Friday for my CT scan. They're a little different from a PET/CT. When you get the CT alone it's a much quicker process. Instead of getting the injection of radioactive sugar (like during the PET) they give you an injection of something that makes you feel warm all over. Your throat feels especially burn-y and you also feel like you've peed your pants. Luckily you don't *actually* pee yourself, but it sure feels like it for about 30 seconds.

I'm told that the solution they inject into your arm is heavier than blood and shows up a different color grey on the CT scan so they can differentiate your circulatory system from the rest of you. See, on a PET/CT the doctors see the results in color, based on how much of the radioactive sugar is absorbed by each part of my body (with cancer lighting up really brightly). On just a CT everything is in grey scale, so it's more difficult to decipher (at least for Hodgkin's).

At first the radiologist thought the spot looked like it was possibly bigger. That's what the report states (not that it *is* bigger, but that it might be bigger). Well Dr. Essell is not one for mights and maybes. He marched right down to the radiology department, found a radiologist whose competency he trusted, and together they looked at my last 4 scans side by side.

It seems this spot has actually been there for awhile, and it's been the same size each time. Since there is no growth, Dr. Essell says it is likely not cancer. We didn't discuss it at the office, but my guess is the spot didn't show up on previous PETs because it's not cancer and only showed up on this last PET because I was sick and the spot was aggravated. That's my (optimistic) guess.

But does any of this sound familiar to you guys? Do you remember another spot I had that showed up, but then didn't grow for awhile so we thought it was nothing to worry about? Well that spot eventually DID start growing and is what kicked off my second move from Florida to Kentucky and my second stem cell transplant.

So I'm a little skeptical about spots that show up but then don't grow. Call me jaded. I can't help it. I do not like spots. Even static ones that my doctor says not to worry about. Spots=bad.

That's my pessimistic interpretation (and the one I will not be able to extract from my heart and my dreams) for the next three months. Then we'll get another PET/CT and we'll see how that looks.

Don't get me wrong. This is *good* news. If this scan had confirmed a growing spot, or found new spots, we'd really know there was trouble. I'll take good news every time, even when I'd prefer no spots at all.

Seeing Spot(s): A PET Scan Mystery

Last Thursday I had a PET/CT scan done. I've blogged about these scans before (see here, here, and especially here) and I've had so many, the crazy-expensive procedure feels like a routine. I still freak out about the results though. I was literally and visibly shaking at the doctor's office today before I got my results!

I wasn't supposed to get my results until tomorrow anyways. This morning I had my "line" removed.
The numbing medication went in like fire. Possibly more painful than doing the procedure with no numbing agent. Then the doctor snipped the little threads that had been holding my line in and tried to pull it out. Unfortunately (for me) my body had done a fantastic job of healing up around the line and was not keen on letting it go. A little yelping and some additional numbing shots later we got it out.

Chest scar number...oh hell, I don't even know anymore.

All in all it was over in about 30 minutes. And like I said, I wasn't supposed to get my scan results today...but the doctor who removed my line was directly across the street from my oncology doctor's office. I thought maybe I'd just pop in and see if they had any cancellations. Any time. At all. All day long.

As luck would have it I bumped into my doc in the hallway on my way in. He said he could see me right then, but wouldn't be available the rest of the day. The nurses charted my temperature, weight, and blood pressure and it was off to a room for results!

There is a new spot showing up on the scan. (Bad). There are no new enlarged lymph nodes though. (Good). I was under the weather when I had the scan and the doctor says the spot showing up *may* just be from me having the crud. If I wasn't otherwise ill, he says he'd be concerned about the spot (don't be fooled though, he *is* concerned), but since the spot could have been caused by me being sick we're going to be hopeful it's just a false positive.

Insurance only pays for PET scans every three months unless there's significant reason to believe the cancer is back (such as physically swollen lymph nodes). Since that's a long time to wait if the cancer really is back, we're going to do a CT scan in a month or so. As soon as we're pretty sure the crud is gone.

In the meantime I'm going to hope for the best and enjoy being line-free. I may not know if the cancer is back, but at least I can take a long hot shower without worrying that my line dressing is going to fall off and my line get infected. I may also have a glass or two of wine. Anything to distract me from worrying for a little while.

Yarn Parties: Party Like it's 1899!

So I'd like to get some feedback on an idea I have.

Many of you know that Brynn and I started a small Etsy shop called WellOwlBe. If you didn't know, you can check it out on Etsy at: https://www.etsy.com/shop/WellOwlBe  or on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/WellOwlBe. It started out as mostly hand-stamped metal jewelry and key chains, but has grown and expanded into other things as well including lots of crocheted pieces.

This past fall I decided to try my hand at craft shows. While I learned quite a bit, I only broke even financially (and that's an optimistic assessment of it). Turns out what sells on Etsy is not what sells at craft shows, though the things that sell at craft shows don't sell on Etsy. One thing I heard a lot of from customers, was how *they* would like to learn to crochet. Or refresh their skills. Or learn a new technique.

So here's my idea...

Yarn parties. (I like the idea of calling them Stitch & Bitch parties, but the name is taken by a rather clever series of books).

Think of having a get-together with friends, like a Pampered Chef party or a Scentsy party, but with no obligation to buy anything and no pressure to book another party or take home a catalog. I would travel to your house with all the supplies we need to make the project you choose. At the end of the party (I'd think it would be between one and two hours) everyone gets to keep their crochet hook (that I provide) and the project they made. Folks could stick around longer for snacks, drinks, a movie, whatever you have planned, and I would politely bow out. What do you think?

I'm posting this because I want loads of feedback about it, even if you think it's a terrible idea! Would you host one? Would you go to one? Would you think it was terribly lame?

Here are some further thoughts...

Types of parties: I could offer several projects that would relate to what you would like to learn or make. For example...

- Basic Crochet Stitches: We would make washclothes for everyone to take home. You would learn five basic crochet stitches, which should get you started on almost any project: chain, single crochet, half-double crochet, double crochet, and treble crochet. I would discuss other more advanced techniques, but we wouldn't practice those. Everyone takes home their crochet hook so they can continue to practice.

If anyone's sides turn out this even on their first try they get a gold star!

- Baby/Family Blanket Party: Each guest would make a small "motif" during the party. These are small shapes that then get stitched together into a larger project. I would bring various colors of yarn (for example: lots of pinks or purples for a girl's baby blanket) and each person would make a square. After the party I would take the motifs with me, stitch them together, and return the finished blanket to the party host/hostess. These would likely be very small blankets, but would be nice baby gifts or mother's day gifts.

For a party with beginners our motifs would be very simple and probably squares.

Ruffle Scarf Party: At this party guests would each make their own finished ruffle and coil scarf. You would only learn the technique for making this scarf, not more traditional crochet stitches. Everyone would still get to take home their hooks for making more scarves. I could either bring a mix of colors of yarn or guests could request their favorite color (team/school colors are sometimes available).

These come in loads of colors and can be worn long or infinity style.

 - Arm knitting: This is the only party where guests do not go home with a crochet hook...because this is knitting! But scarves require 2 skeins of chunky yarn, so you still take home a lot of yarn. Everyone leaves with a chunky infinity scarf. Again I could bring mixed colors or guest could request colors beforehand. And since you use 2 strands at once, you could either make a single colored scarf or a multi-colored scarf. It's a great technique and moves along very fast.

This is the FSU version.

Pricing: I could either charge a flat fee for a party of say 8, plus a small charge for each additional guest or I could charge a fee per guest with a minimum of a certain number of guests required. I'd have to cover the cost of transportation, hooks, and yarn (and not cruddy yarn either, working with traditional Red Heart yarn is enough to turn anyone off to crochet). Would you rather see a flat fee or a per guest fee if you were thinking about having a party?

Other questions: Are there other sorts of crocheted pieces or techniques you'd like to learn? What sort of party would you like to have? Would you rather learn in a setting like this with friends (and possibly wine) or would you rather learn one on one with someone? What things am I not thinking about?

I'm certainly not uniquely qualified to do a class like this, but I do think it would be a fun get-together. If you're interested in learning there are books, youtube tutorials, and even classes at craft stores like Michael's. This is a different sort of thing though. It would be a friendly setting, with other people asking questions and making mistakes alongside you. If you think that sounds like a good time, let me know! (Also let me know if you think it sounds terrible, I'm just testing the waters here).

Thrift Shopping

I had told The Boyfriend several times I needed to go get new jeans. He would look at me dubiously and make comments about belts. It's true, belts can get you through for awhile, but at some point you have to break down and buy pants that fit.

To say I'm on a budget is laughable. I'm over a budget. Every month. This is not the way I like to do things, but every once in awhile you have to be in debt. And so I try to be careful about my spending (since it never ever fits into my "budget" anyways). There are some things you just have to spend money on though: school supplies, food, and (for the sake of this post) I'm going to say clothes that don't fall off your body.

I'd planned on going to the Gap Clearance Store, which is one of my favorite shopping places on earth. They have Gap, Old Navy, and Banana Republic items that are slightly damaged, majorly damaged, returned, that failed to sell on clearance elsewhere, and some things that are brand new and in perfect condition. It's a giant warehouse where you can hunt for bargains. Jeans are usually $10 a pair, occasionally $5 if you can catch the sale. Why spend more?

But why not spend less.

Yesterday I decided to visit the largest and best run thrift store I've been to in my life. I'd only been here once before, and it's a haul to get there, but I was already in the area and decided to give it a go. And oh was it worth it.

I bought six pairs of jeans and two pairs of capris for $15.02 (plus tax). That's less than $2 a pair folks. And they're not ratty old jeans, they're nice! Take, for example, the relatively expensive Lucky Brand jeans that I splurged and spent $3.99 on.

Maybe that extra pocket detailing is why they sell for so much in the stores

I'm not much for name brands but the back pockets are cute and there are clovers printed on the material of the pockets. It's the little things that make me happy.

Another thing that makes me happy? Nine cent jeans. That's right, nine pennies bought me a full length pair of pants.

I'm gonna pop some tags.

"Well they must be hideous or stained or have no button! There have to be holes or maybe they're mom jeans from circa 1992. You can NOT buy nice jeans for nine cents!" you say.

But I scoured over these jeans. Tried them on twice. They look fantastic, fit like a glove, and the zipper totally works. Don't believe me? Check it out...

All nine cents worth.

More cute back pockets.

The receipt goes on to show a few accessories I picked up and a closet's worth of cute new dresses (ranging from $1.99 to $8.99), including a $4.99 Evan-Picone date night dress that the internet tells me retails for $99. All in all it was a worthwhile trip, to say the least.

And for any remaining doubters ("Why didn't you just wear your old jeans with a belt?) I went into the thrift store wearing a heavily belted size 12 jean. I left with two bags full of size 6 jeans and capris for less than you'd pay for a belt at most stores. I'm all for being money-conscious, but I like to do it without my pants falling off.

The No-Muscle Work Out

Since my hospital stay over the summer I've made significant physical progress. Sometimes I even forget I still have limitations. I can go grocery shopping without worrying about collapsing in the middle of the store. I can stand for about an hour and a half or so at a concert (and longer if I really wanted to). As long as I'm not on an uphill grade, I usually do okay for myself.

I finished my physical and occupational therapy about a month ago. Both therapists encouraged me to continue my exercises and to begin working out on my elliptical machine. I felt like many of my daily activities replaced some of my exercises though (ex. going up and down the stairs replaces the exercise where I stand on the top step with one foot and bend that leg until my other heel touches the next step down). It's obvious I'm not back to 100%, but I felt like I'd made huge strides. (And I have, all things considered).

But today I finally found a bit of motivation and hauled my butt onto the elliptical. The boyfriend and I were talking about it yesterday. He encouraged me to get on it, but to know that I'd have to start slow, maybe with just three minutes. Of course I scoffed and said, "Three minutes?!? Geez. I think I can at least manage five!"

Which makes today's performance all the more embarrassing. At the one minute mark I decided five minutes was unreasonable and three was a much more realistic goal. At a minute and thirty seconds I had broken a light sweat and switched the direction I was pedaling. By two minutes I was sucking in air, heart racing, and thinking I might not make it at all! When the timer rolled over to three minutes I wobbled over to the closest cushy surface and collapsed for six minutes. Phew.

So on the downside, I think perhaps I've been too lax in continuing my physical therapy. Building up more time on the elliptical will be a major goal for me now. On the upside, making a workout playlist will be a breeze. One good Meatloaf song will get me through three or four workouts!

Eat Like You Were Dying

There's that country song about living like you're dying. You know the one, where the guy goes sky-diving and bull riding and watches an eagle flying around. He says, "I hope someday you get the chance to live like you were dying."

Well, for one, lots of times once you're *actually* predicted to die in a nearby time frame you feel too cruddy to do things like "go 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu." Honestly I think I feel too cruddy to do that even on days when I'm feeling *great.* I can't say that even after 5 years of cancer I have the desire to climb on a bull's back and see how long it takes him to try to kill me.

It's also tough to live like you're dying when you don't immediately die. Sure everyone would love to quit their job and go take part in some fun activity (or maybe just take a nap). But even on disability there are still (lots) of bills to pay, and laundry to be done, and (in my case) a 12 year old to raise. So I guess everyday life gets in the way of "living like you're dying" life.

I have realized, however, during times I feel especially bad I tend to *eat* like I am dying. I want a milkshake; I have one. Chipotle sounds good; I go there for dinner. I see chocolate milk at the store; I buy it. Health experts will tell you finding happiness in food is unhealthy, but when happiness is in short supply elsewhere I'm happy to take it in the form of buffalo chicken dip.

And it makes me sad for some people who are on VERY restrictive diets. I understand the desire to eat healthily and put good things into your body. But sometimes my soul needs Mexican (chimichanga with the cheese dip please). Now don't get me wrong, I don't make a habit of indulging my cravings constantly. But I think under-indulging, if it's a food you really miss, can be just as bad as over indulging. Self-deprivation has its merits, but every once in awhile everyone needs some chili cheese fries.

Not once have I been laying in a hospital bed, extremely ill, and thought, "gee I wish I'd really taken off that last 10 lbs. My corpse would look so much nicer in a size 10 dress than a 12." Because when you think you might die you don't care about your waistline or your cholesterol, you just wish you'd eaten more peanut butter milkshakes while you had the chance. And gyros. And really good salsa.

This pico de gallo is (almost) to die for.

So I'm not encouraging you to eat your favorite foods every day of the week. And when you do have a treat, I'm not endorsing eating the entire family-sized package of double stuffed Oreos. But I DO think if you have a food that makes you smile inside. That makes your day just a little better. That simply lights up your soul. Eat it. Have some every now and again...and *really* savor it. Don't wolf it down and then wish there were more. Taste every bite. Eat like you were dying, because inevitably one day you will. And while I can't guarantee it, I bet you'll wish you could take a to-go bag with you.

(**I am not in any way qualified to give advice about diets or food. Take my advice with a grain of salt [and a margarita])