The Monkey on my back...It's [melanoma] everywhere.

Well, Hell's bells....
Today I came pretty damned near being blown away. I got back the results from my CT scan last Friday along with my PET scan from Tuesday.
There has been significant progression of this shitty intruder, interloper and spoor of the devil that is otherwise known as melanoma.

To say it is a scourge would be a gross understatement.

I have a whole boatload new skeletal metastases; a new crop of 'em in my spine/vertebrae. The PET scan showed T5, L1,L3, L4, Left Sacrum (this one, I knew about), bilateral iliac wings, left proximal femur (GREAT, it's in both my hips now!), bilateral distal femora, bilateral femoral midshafts, and left proximal tibia, left proximal humerus along with a bone met in my sternum.
Two new Sub-Q's--one in my left thigh and one, believe it or not right smack in the middle of my right buttock.
Multiple new liver nodules/mets.
Lung mets in both lungs have all increased in size: some have doubled in size--around 2 cm from just under 1cm before, one in particular is now over 4cm x 3cm; three new ones have spawned between both lungs. New hilar and mediastinal lymph node mets.

Soooo....Basically it sounds like it's pretty damned close to everywhere...
We'll see what that brain MRI that I had today has to say...Hoping my brain will still be spared from this blight.

I just can't believe it....Basically I was floored; obliterated once again.

Oh well, I know what I gotta do. Cry and rail and freak out...scream at the top of my lungs until they give out, yank at my hair, beat my head on the wall and cry until I am dried up then drop, in an exhausted heap, if that is what it takes to purge all the toxic and negative emotions from my system for a bit; get it out of my system and keep on keeping on.

Now all I can think about is no longer how petrified I am of IL-2, I am SOO much more than ready to give melanoma some hell!!

BRING IT ON!!

PET scan from Hell and other musings from the land of the lost...

Well, God DAMN. That had to be the single most irritating experience in this whole melanoma ordeal yet.
Weeelllll....Maybe NOT. But it ranked up there, that's for sure.

A PET scan on a good day can frazzle the most calm cool and collected person's nerves even just the tiniest bit, but after having this kind of scan on three other occasions, I can honestly say that this time, I was comin' pretty darn close to snappin'!
In general, my day up to that point in time, was an exercise in futility...so it was only fitting I should have a fabulous time in the PET scanner to boot.

I shoulda known when the teacher in charge of the "re-direction room" called to let me know that they had my son in the in school suspension room for passing hateful little notes with one of his friends to his big sis. Now at this age (my son will be 7 in about a month), a child's idea of mean is to do something that would be very embarrassing to the target; something that would make the target the butt of a joke. Usually it consists of something they think is "gross." You know...first graders and toilet humor. Well this went a little beyond that, and turned out to be something humiliating to both myself and my husband in addition to his sister. He and his friend literally had no clue the full meaning and ramifications of what they were doing; they only thought they were being "gross and funny."
Hmph.
Back and forth on the phone with the redirection room teacher, who also happened to have a nasty case of laryngitis and was barely audible.
Then it was off to have the time of my life on a too narrow, hard cot-like structure that passes through what looks like a hard plastic donut at a snail's pace. NO, check that....slower.

But first, I had to get to the hospital and find a decent parking spot. AS IF. I circled around all the somewhat closer parking areas, watching with dismay a half dozen or so other vehicles cruising the area like vultures to carrion any stationary vehicle in a parking spot that happened to have the brake lights lit up.
Aww, Hell.
Further down to the next lot over.
Waaahhhh. Do I sound whiny, evil and sarcastic yet?

I ended up parking a country MILE from the main entrance to the hospital. I was just lurching along in my ,sore and lame assed way when I heard a couple of other people in the first parking lot freaking out on each other over a parking space...Whoa. Nice.
Made my way through the labyrinthian hallways of the main hospital building to Station #10, PET scan department. Now, from the name, I am not sure if I would be completely off the mark in deducing that there would be a few PET scanners.
NO.
There was one.
It was backed up.
So, after my half hour (no LIE) long trek to get to the PET scan waiting area, I called my husband up spur of the moment like, and asked if he could bail outta work to get home for the kids when they get off the bus. I told him I had to huff it on foot about a mile from my parking spot, and it took me at least 20 minutes. That, plus the PET scanner was backed up. I would only have a very narrow margin of time to get home...
I only had to sit in the waiting area for a short time, believe it or not, when I was called to the preparation room to have my FDG injection and my quiet reading/nap time (*you have to sit still for an hour*)...This was not the issue. I was just reading 100 pages or so of my book when I caught sight of the time.
HOLY Mary MOTHER of GOD.
An hour and a half had gone by. There was no sign of a tech anywhere. I thought they had forgotten about me. I had horror visions of a few more hours going by then BLAM! all the lights going out in that department. THen she finally poked her head into the room like a turtle.
"What in God's green Earth is going on? I have been sitting here for over an hour..."
She just told me how backed up they were and with only one camera it really slowed things down.
I'll say.
When I finally got into the PET scanner, I was already ready to strangle someone. Let me just tell you, that is one narrow table! Not only that, but they have to bind you up tighter than a mummy in order to hold your ass completely still. Even more, this particular PET scan facility had this lovely "head pillow' as they called it. They were pushing my head into this hellish contraption more closely resembling a Chinese torture device than a pillow, that's for sure.
Then I only had to lie there. For another hour and a half.
I was bawling my eyes out like a big fat ninny baby by the time the tech finally came to release me. My head was exploding with a migraine straight outta hell, I was achy in spots I never knew existed, my stomach was chewing itself inside out from the extreme hunger of not having eaten since the night before, and I was flippin' out for a fix of caffeine.
OKay...now that was a nice example of being a "whine bag complainer" as my husband and I call it.
But that wasn't all.

I had to lurch and huff it all the way out to Timbuktu to where I had to resort to parking. The lot stretched out into the great beyond reminding me of those shots in horror movies when a person is trying to get to an exit; a way out....and the hallway or wherever they are stretches out unrealistically far ahead of them.
Then there was the beginnings of rush hour traffic to contend with. RRRR.
This was just unreal to me, considering the fact that I got there at around 12:30. It was now closer to 5:00.
HRUMPH--an almost 4 hour PET scan. What the fuck?!?!
I suddenly remembered, at one of a million red lights that I hit on the way home, not only that I had forgotten my XANAX, but also that I had taken out meat to make a cool meat loaf variation that I had thought of, and I would not have time now to mix it up and throw it in the oven and let it bake for a couple of hours.
NOt if we wanted to eat before 8:00p.m.
Oh well....We would just HAVE to go out for dinner. That is never something to complain about in my book, and I was all for it!
So we all piled in the Durango and hit the road for Jake's, which is an awesome hamburger and shake place that wins all these awards in this area for the best hamburgers and shakes.
Now that was a treat, and a fine and perfect ending for an otherwise shitty day.
Then they forgot my sweet peppers.
Good God, what next?
Really, though, you should never ever utter those words for obvious reasons....Most important of which is this: You are sure to find out.
Good God, if there was a day I coulda stood to get annihilated, intoxicated and trashed on any mixed concoction of the alcoholic variety it was this one.



But then I remembered I was on pain medications....and most sane and rational people know that pain meds and liquor are not to keen a combo...Oh well.

Tomorrow is another day.....

Something I forgot to mention....

Got off on a rambling tangent before when I was posting and totally forgot to mention something that happened this past week at radiation oncology on the day of my last radiation treatment.
It moved me to tears...
Then again, it hasn't taken much to do that lately.
In any case, it was emotionally powerful, all the same

I was bulldozing my way out of there, as is usually the case at the end of each treatment since my stomach is growling like a sonofabitch after smelling everyone's incredibly mouth watering scented lunches (my radiation appointments were ALL around noon!) and a lady who was normally one of my regular radiation techs but wasn't on that day, stopped me as I walked out with the tech I was with that day to say goodbye after hearing that it was my last day.

I was then told to "ring the bell" because that is what all radiation patients do when they are all finished up with their treatments. It's a tradition, they said.

I looked at them both as if I were a complete moron, utterly clueless about what in god's green earth they were talking about.
It was a semi-large bell, mounted on the wall right by the tech's station outside the radiation rooms. I don't mean that it was Liberty Bell huge, but it was decent sized....loud enough when rung that it could be audible within a pretty wide vicinity.

Anyway, I got to ring the living shit out of the thing.
I melted into tears...big FAT tears, but of joy this time, upon looking around as people came out and applauded. Then I was wrapped in huge hugs by both women who were two of my four regular radiation techs.

They both congratulated me and wished me only the best of luck fighting off stinkin' ol' mel (okay, that "stinkin' ol' mel part is really my words, but oh well...) and instructed me to come back once in a while and let them know how I was doing.
They both said people never come back to visit--to see them, and they hoped that I would....

Let me just interject here by saying that it never fails to amaze me, people's capacity for caring and genuine kindness in the face of an insidious disease such as melanoma. I have been shocked, awed, and floored, along with having a considerable chunk of my heart that was starting to harden up, soften up to mush...

Me...just a grown up version of that oversensitive and completely over the top emotional kid that was picked on and bullied unmercifully back when I was younger....

My faith and trust in people and their capacity for kindness had been shattered before being stricken with this shitty disease.
Aside from my husband and his family, all of whom I will never stop admiring, melanoma, blight that it is, has shown me something wonderful...

Something that before it, I had almost given up on...

Human kindness, compassion, and caring.

And what a gift that truly is.

Spring is FINALLY here! And some other stuff...

So much has been going on here that my head has literally been spinning around 360 degrees.
Of course, there has been everything that I have been facing and my family too...but also, some very dear and close friends of ours are going through a very difficult and heartbreaking time right now. We have been trying to be there for them and to help them whenever we can...Out of respect for their privacy, I will not go into any more detail here on this blog on what they have been facing...
Just explaining why I have been very scarce as far as giving many of my other friends calls, keeping up with emails, and this blog...

I think I mentioned in my previous post, all the scans and tests that have been required of me to get done in order to get the "all clear" to go ahead with IL-2.
Just had the CT scan this past Friday...Now I don't care how many of these you have to get done as a melanoma patient, or any cancer patient for that matter, it NEVER gets easier...the test itself, never mind the jack nasty contrast stuff they make you drink...but enough about that.
If I had to admit right now, which test scares me the most, clearly it has to be the MRI of the brain. The nightmares have been running rampant every night, let me just tell you...
In one of them, I was shaving my head because the WBR had made most of my hair fall out, and I was left with a scabby skull covered with bald spots and patches of thin scraggly hair...I was looking in the mirror at my scary image and shaving my head...It was then that I jerked bolt upright with a gasp only to see my clock radio, bright neon red numbers glowing in the 3:46 am darkness, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was, for now at least, only a heinous dream....

So, I am now all finished up with my radiation treatments to my right hip and left sacrum. I can actually say I don't have any pain left at all...or at least very little pain, in my left sacrum (low back/back pelvis)...However, I still feel quite a bit of pain in not only my left hip, but also my left knee.

I found out why the knee has been giving me problems, and it literally floored me....of course, not nearly as much..not even in the same stratosphere of that initial X-ray, but that was a false alarm, and that GOD it ISN"T melanoma! That goes without saying...

I got to go see the physical therapist for the first time on Thursday morning. Turns out I have quite a bit of muscle wasting, weakening and atrophy in my right thigh from favoring that leg (the one with the hip met). He could tell from the moment I walked in the joint that I had hip pain, because of how I walked...what a trip. Anyway, as I was doing all manner of leg lifts, he instructed me to put my hands one on each thigh in order to feel the difference in strength versus weakness. My right quadriceps muscle is basically mush. Not much strength left in that one whatsoever. Scary how quickly our muscles can deteriorate with a lack of use. My muscles in that leg had weakened so much that I could barely lift the leg itself much off the table.

And to think, I used to work out regularly until all of this...and I am still fairly young..at least *I* think so ;) HA!

Not only that, but my OTHER leg--the left one--is the one that I had the primary melanoma and all the sub-qs and in-transits, then ultimately a lymph node dissection with muscle cut/flap rotation and finally limb perfusion...So now THAT one is the "strong" one. How whacked is that?

Anyway, he is going to work with me and get me all set and back as close to my old self as he can. He said that he believed my knee joint/knee cap has actually been weakened due to my quadriceps muscle being so weak that it isn't holding my knee cap steadily in place...leaving it to rub and grind around above that joint, causing a lot of pain.

An another note...I have a new pain...and anyone who is a mel patient can definitely sympathize with this one, but ANY new pain whatsoever, especially at stage III or IV, is cause for a virtual panic of potentially epidemic proportions if prompt intervention isn't sought out...I now have a new fairly strong pain in one of my left ribs...It just came about a few days ago, and has been getting steadily more severe and more constant.

To say that this is flippin' me the fuck out would only cover half of it.

I am so worried that this PET on Tuesday is going to light up like a Goddamned Christmas tree. Hell.

Oh! Another cool and sweet thing my hunny did for me was to order me up a laptop/notebook computer for me to use while I am chained in my hospital prison for those few stints of a few days at a time. That is, if I am not feeling too much like dog crap at an estimated 212 degrees farenheit from the IL-2. The hospital where I will be receiving the IL-2 has available computer connection/access, so this will help me SOOO much...because aside from Ed, I most likely won't be getting too many visitors. It is so hard...Much of our family is still working every weekday, and my mom and dad have so many health issues of their own.

I know for a fact that they won't be making the trip...

And since I tend to get very VERY depressed in the hospital, this laptop is going to be a help. As I said, so long as I am not in a complete state of severe fatigue and loopiness and am at least, close to totally coherent--heheh.

I guess that is pretty much it as far as what has been going on here for now...

As always, I am moved so much by all the support, emails and comments I have gotten from so many of my fellow MPIP-ers and friends online, in addition to all the love and support from my family and friends so far....I know for a fact that I wouldn't be half as strong without it. No exaggeration.

Pity Party and Rant fest

ALright....Where the FFFFF..*ahem*, HELL is spring, Goddamn it?!?!

Okay. Got that outta my system again, for a little bit.

Now on to my regularly scheduled gripe and rant fest: As seems to be the norm lately, my emotions have run from one end of the spectrum to the other and all points in between. I have gotten mad, screaming practically stark raving hair tearing out mad; bawled my eyes out until they burned and were just about swollen shut; and very very occasionally felt that irrepressable drive to fight like hell...that has surfaced a couple of times anyway...

For the most part...I guess I have just felt completely wiped out...Obliterated. My mind, I would swear, sometimes feels completely blasted out...

As for the radiation treatments, I am now done with treatment # 12. Two more to go, then all the IL-2 testing begins...That'll be a circus I am sure...and not in the ways that make you laugh. Course, that's not to say that I won't seek out things to make lame and sometimes disturbing jokes about later on....

My schedule is going to get even more insane; not just in the time crunch way either. By the end of next week, if I am not in a padded cell with four point restraints getting regular injections of Thorazine, it will be nothing short of a miracle.

Friday (this week) I have to have a CT scan to re-assess my metastases...I am assuming it is to check and get current sizes of the existing mets, and scarily enough, to make sure there are no new ones *I HOPE THE HELL NOT*

Then on the 24th, it's on for another PET scan. At the semi-near buttcrack of dawn on the 26th I have to go back in for a Cardiolite Stress test, then on to an MRI of the brain around lunchtime. Let me just interject here by saying that this MRI of the brain is freaking me out ,by far, a whole shitload more than any of these other tests. For obvious reasons: I hope and pray with all my heart that there is not an eeeeviiiiil melanoma met sinking its claws into the flesh of my brain, but also the less obvious: baby that I am, I gotta confess...I DONT WANT The HEAD CAGE! *cue Psycho theme music*

That thing freaks me out. I'm not kidding.

Then, the 27th is pulmonary function test day. I go in to see the oncologist on May 3rd, I am supposing to go over all these test results and to have any more iL-2 related Q & A...I am sure I will come up with another book's worth of questions, too.

As it stands right now, the date for my admission to the hospital for high dose IL-2 is May 7th. To say that I am scared shitless still somehow doesn't seem to do the sheer magnitude of my raw white hot panic justice.

Don't get me wrong...I am far more than anxious to kick melanoma's nasty and evil ass...but I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared outta my wits.

It just occurred to me that I neglected to mention what my decision was about where to get the high dose IL-2 administered. After a LOT of hair tearing (surprised I don't have bald spots yet), I finally decided to go with the hospital that is close to my home. I can only imagine how this might confuse some people...they may not understand it, considering the alternative, St. LUke's Hospital, is a highly respected institution more than skilled...experts at giving IL-2....Ultimitely, it came down to personal and private family reasons that steered my decision. NOt that I haven't seriously made sure that Helen F. Graham is highly skilled...I have. It is a relatively new place, in the beginnings of making and establishing a good reputation for itself.

The doc and the whole staff that will be in charge of my care while on IL-2 have been rigorously trained by the staff at Pittsburg, which is another IL-2 certified and respected place. I will be receiving it in the bone marrow unit, but will be under the care of only the docs and nurses who have been trained thoroughly in giving the IL-2. I will be getting the care and nurse to patient ratio that is comparable to that in the ICU...

Plus, I got to chat on the phone to another young woman who has actually completed her course of high dose IL-2 there. She is a 21 year old stage IV melanoma warrior...and even after chatting to her once, I could tell she is a fighter...Anyway, she couldn't say enough good about this place...

I feel a little bit guilty about not going to St. Lukes, if only for all those amazing folks who were so caring as to offer to pop in and see me while I was there...I feel bad about that...still wish I could meet some of you :(

Anyway...that's where things are at with me right now.

On a side note: I was majorly pissed to find out that I was completely blown off for that Family Circle article. Kudos going out to those women who were actually published in that article to speaking out though! I just got so steaming mad...That chick sucked up over two hours of my time..two separate interviews..Plus, she asked me to email her some digital pics of myself and myself with my family.

A second woman even contacted me saying that she was the fact checker for the article. She read me, word for word, the article as it would appear in the mag. She told me this was how it would appear. She told me they were using my story, and that the issue was going to be out mid-April. WTF. Why did that wench have to go and lie to me like that...that just ain't right, and if I had half a mind to, I would be filling her email box with a hefty dose of hate mail. LOL.

Well...color me retarded...once again.

As for that article I sent in to that local magazine, I haven't heard back from the girl I shot the email off to yet... :( :(

Bummer. Oh well...hoping I will get a chance to speak out some day....

My melanoma history, lymphedema, IL-2 and other evils.

Just another post of rambling, babbling and general diarrhea of the mouth...or more aptly and specifically, fingers, since I am typing, not talking.
It just occurred to me that I never really posted my melanoma history anywhere on this blog; well, at least not an accurate and more detailed description of all the vast array of crap that I (and many other melanoma patients) have had to go through in the last 3 years and approximately 8 months or so. I did have a vague summary as a first post, but that was about it. So aside from the limb profusion last fall, which I did post endlessly about, everything leading up to it hasn't really been mentioned.

Since I am a veritable computer moron where some things are concerned, I am not quite up on how to link to my Patnet on MPIP...so, here goes:

*Note:Boring post alert to anyone who has heard all of this to infinity and beyond. Just figured I would get it down in case anyone was curious, even if it is a longshot. heheh*

It has been a long road since April of 2000, if I want to be completely accurate here, since that is technically when the butt ugly mole first decided to rear its head. I was preggo with my second child, my son, cute lil' man that he is ;) But being one of the worst procrastinators, I just watched the thing as it grew, mutated, changed colors like a kaleidoscope and just in general, became more threatening.

Had it biopsied in May of 2001, and was only told that it was "benign." Despite the insistence on the derm's office's part that I was supposed to follow up, in my most accurate recollection, that is not quite how *I* remember it, AT ALL. I had to insist on the biopsy in the first place, despite the derm's warning that it would leave an ugly scar, and his insistence that melanoma is rare and just never happens much with younger people (I was 29 at the time). He literally whipped out a single edged razor blade for the biopsy. I'm not kidding. At the end of the appointment, the dude gave me a pat on the hand, told me to not be embarrassed to come back if it came back benign, because, in his most infinite wisdom, he was certain it would.

Well, obviously, the nasty sucker came back. But after being told it was benign, I chose to ignore it for a couple of years...until it got bigger than it had been before. In August of 2003, I had the fugly bugger biopsied, this time, with a punch, not some razor blade.

It came back malignant melanoma, of aproximately 0.5mm in thickness (it must be noted here that I had only had a partial punch biopsy of some miniscule little black speck at the very edge of this sucker). The rest of it still sat squarely on my left lower leg/shin area...seemingly taunting me, causing me to question the true depth. I was immediately scheduled for a wide excision, standard of care when a melanoma is actually only 0.5mm in thickness. But I had an issue: I wanted to know how thick the rest of it was. A doc at this practice, who had not been there before (when I went there back in 2001), was the one to do the biopsy. He was very concerned about this mole being there before and "regrowing" in the shave biopsy scar...This led to a whole mess where he dug up the old slide, reviewed it, and later on, made a very shaky statement referring to "legal reasons" being the reason he couldn't comment on the old slide, and my ultimate consultation with a malpractice attorney.

By this time, the docs at the head of the practice had already goaded me in my very limited wisdom at that time to go ahead with the wide local excision (removal) of the melanoma. When it came back, the residual melanoma in the WLE was just over three times as thick as the initial biopsy showed.
I needed a sentinel node biopsy, since that is the standard of care for melanoma that is over 1 millimeter in thickness.
At that point, demanded copies of all my records and took my whole case up to Jefferson in Philadelphia, where some of the most skilled experts in melanoma practice. I can say nothing but good about all the care I received there from every doc through every single thing that transpired in my case since then.

In November of 2003, I had my Sentinel Node Biopsy done: a test to check the lymph nodes nearest the melanoma to see which ones that primary had drained to, and check them for any melanoma cells.
I had 5 lymph nodes "light" up. One was questionable, with atypical nevus cells in the capsular area of the node. It was ruled that this node was most likely not melanoma due to the location of the cells, but to quote one of my docs, "The docs are still scratching their heads over this one."

So I was closely monitored by the oncologist along with the surgeon who had done the SNB. Something that would ordinarily be considered unusual for a stage IB melanoma patient.

All went relatively according to plan as far as stage Ib melanoma patients go...That is, until December 2004, when I felt a sharp stabbing, stinging sensation right next to my wide excision scar. I looked at the scar to see the origin of this sensation, and noticed a little red dot. Over the next couple of months I watched what started out being a little red dot turn into a raised pink papule/nodule. In March of 2005, I finally got in to see a dermatogist at University of Penn who biopsied that spot along with two others.

The spot was recurrent melanoma, consistent with an in-transit/satellite metastasis. The report stated that cells were seen focally within a lymphatic channel.

I was now stage IIIB. Things were a blur after that for a few months.

On May 4th 2005, I had a superficial inguinal node dissection done to remove and check my lymph nodes in my left thigh/groin to check for any melanoma cells along with a skin graft to cover up the crater-like hole that had to be created to remove this recurrence.
12 lymph nodes were removed at that time, all of them FREE of melanoma!! Yee-haw!!

After close consideration and inspection of my slides at that time for the in-transit met, back in June of 2005, it was the recommendation of my oncologist at Jefferson to get the Isolated LImb Perfusion done. I ran like a psycho ninny wimp chicken like my hair was on fire from that procedure at that time...something that to this day I am kicking myself in the butt for...I do realize it does no one any favors to beat yourself up about making decisions that ultimately lead to a worse outcome, least of all yourself...but hey...

I went runnin' to UPenn for a second opinion, where instead of ILP, I was offered up the treatment regimen of Temodar and GM-CSF. I took these on a 28 day cycle: 5 days of TEmodar, two days off, then 14 days of subcutaneous injections of the GM-CSF, then one week off...Start over. I was on Temodar for 10 months; GM-CSF for 12. This was all started up in August of 2005.

In March of 2006, I had a crop of little pink papules literally pop up overnight up and down my left upper/inner thigh, along with one that was deeper in the skin and felt like a little rock or pebble without a pink bump on the surface. These suckers literally just disappeared within a few days of completing the TEmodar part of one of my cycles...I will always wonder if they were actually melanoma. A biopsy of the deeper lump was inconclusive for anything but white blood cells and some fibrotic type tissue (?).

In late July 2006 I felt a hard rocklike and immovable lump just an inch below my lymph node dissection scar. It felt identical to the deeper lump I had felt in March. A Ct scan confirmed a subcutaneous nodular density and a fine needle biopsy confirmed melanoma.
I had myself another in-transit/sub-Q. Surgery to remove this little abomination was done on September 22, 2006. In the outlying skin that was removed, it was evident that the big boy had spawned off some clones and babies of different sizes.

I no longer had any argument good enough to justify not doing the isolated limb perfusion, since this shit just loved to keep on croppin' up in my leg. I was done farting around and finally, head out of my butt, at long last, had the isolated limb perfusion along with a complete dissection of all the rest of my lymph nodes in the pelvis/lower abdomen. For the most part, I have railed, griped, and gone into more detail about all of that whole ordeal here on this blog...It was basically what got me started doing the blog thing...That, plus it just seemed like a real cool way to get my thoughts out of my head where they seemed to be doing me no good, and to be truthful, were poisoning my attitude. LOL.
Of course, as I mentioned in the beginning, I had 31 lymph nodes removed, one of them in the lower abdomen was positive for multiple foci of melanoma. This blasted old node put me up to stage IIIC.

And the rest, as they say, is history. Until now, that is. All this seemingly overwhelming at times stage IV crap. Two mets in my bones and six in my lungs. HOLY HELL.

Being down by damned near 50 lymph nodes, I have noticed that I am swelling quite a bit, as you can see from the pics below. Not all the time, but more often than ever before. These pics aren't quite as bad as it has been on a couple more occasions, but even on the worst ones, it hasn't been as bad as the heinous lymphedema issues some of my friends have had to deal with...But check out that fabulous left ankle and upper foot area. Pretty, huh? That shit can get pretty painful...so I can't imagine how painful it must be for people who have more swelling than I have had...My heart goes out to them.


Here is another shot of this beaut.
Interluekin 2 is the next line of attack for me...at least once I finish up these radiation treatments. I am now 9 treatments down; either one more or five more to go, depending on whether or not the radiation oncologist thinks I have responded as well as he hoped I would.
I am investigating the IL-2 in two different places. One of which is St. Luke's Hospital in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, which is over 2 hours from my home. The down side to this one is that my family would most likely not be able to be a physical presence there for moral support for me at any time during my treatment. Of course, there is no denying the excellent reputation associated with this hospital. That can't be argued with...Tough choice, to say the least.
The other choice is the hospital close to my home. They have just built within the last five years, a new and high tech cancer center. They are trying to build up an excellent reputation in the area of other cancers, but are branching out more into the melanoma field. They have been certified as one of the few selected hospitals to give high dose IL-2 to stage IV metastatic melanoma patients. The onc I consulted with there who will be administering the IL-2 said they all, he and all of the nurses, have been rigorously trained to give this treatment by the IL-2 staff at Pittsburg.
They haven't had the sheer volume of patients yet that St. Luke's has had, and therefore, less hands on experience...but it is still so worth considering...And of course, my family and friends would all be able to come up and hang out so much more easily...That alone would be a HUGE thing for me...
However, with my local hospital, they are still trying to work out all the potential insurance issues. To say that by the day, I am getting more and more fried in the skull would be putting it far to mildly. My tension meter is off the charts and in the red.
But....I am toughin' it out as much as I can...and am hellbent on getting this treatment, as it seems to be the most promising as far as complete responses and durable long lasting remissions for those patients who have the complete response to the treatment. 16% of patients responded in trials: 10% partial response with at least 50% shrinkage of tumors, and 6% complete response...ALL tumors GONE...and apparently, most of them are still NED. Downside...the treatment is supposed to be hell on earth for a few days while receiving it and the first few days home...

But who can argue with a shot at NED? Especially at Stage IV...and NED with a lasting response? Shit...at this point, I am ready to grab that bull by the horns...

But...One thing stands true, still, above all else, despite the battle between the positive upbeat and go get 'em attitude versus negative and defeatist one:
To use I pic I posted before, all repetition aside, I believe it sums it up:


Ain't that the truth?
Until next time....

2 Hours and approximately 53 Minutes...

That is exactly how long in actual and realistic time as we know it that I spent today in a state of raw, white hot panic....
Just shy of 3 hours, but it felt more like 3 months...or better yet, 3 years...
Time has this strange way of distorting itself during times of crisis to the point where it is completely out of step with reality.
But as usual, I am getting ahead of myself...Well, to those of you who have happened to pop on to MPIP already, you may quite possibly have happened upon my post where I just may have jumped the gun a little too soon....
I have been having this pain in my right knee. That is, in addition to the pain in my ass (literally) or more specifically, very low left back and my right hip and upper thigh. My knee felt as though someone drilled a hole in it, shoved a time activated bomb of some variety and set it to explode at precisely 6:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Savings Time on Monday morning....and it hasn't stopped hurting since. Or quite possibly whaled away on it with a sledgehammer until the bone was completely pulped would be a not too far off description *a little melodrama for you, folks*.
Well, it didn't just start hurting out of the blue, to be honest. It was aching a bit for a few days now, but I figured that I was most likely putting a lot of extra strain on that joint since my hip has been so out of whack lately.
On Monday morning though, as I staggered out of bed in my usual half dead state upon waking, moaning "paaaaiiin meeeedddds...neeed paaiin..meeeds...nooooowwwww" in a slow zombie intonation, stars and fireworks exploded within my skull and on my inner eyelids with each step I took that put weight on that right knee...
That woke my ass up right quick.
I hit the deck.
Zombified moans became wails.
To say this is a major bummer would be grossly understating things, but it was, since I was honestly starting to feel a bit better in the pain department, at least in my lower back.

My husband went to our local Rite Aid on Monday afternoon, and perused the vast selection of walking aids and devices. He didn't ask me first, knowing my stubborn ass would blatantly refuse his offer to go pick out a cane for me...He just did it. I have been forever thankful since, 'cause DAMN, did I need it!

Anyway, by Tuesday, upon seeing the cane, which I must admit, I had to customize with butterfly stickers *did I ever mention before how corny I can be? Hell, I had to personalize it and make it fun somehow!*...but upon seeing the cane, my lurching walk, and my scrunched up face, along with my grunts, my radiation techs ordered me to tell the radiation onc right away about my knee pain. I wasn't doing myself any favors by trying to suck it up and be tough...just being a stubborn ass, as I have known to be....quite frequently, as a matter of fact.

When the doc popped in to see me and ask what was up, I told him my knee hurt like a MOFO. *not exactly what I said, but so what*...He ordered an X-ray with a STAT wet reading to be sent immediately to him. He told me that even if the X-ray showed nothing, he may want to order an MRI just to check the marrow out and make sure it was okay.

Sooo, today I go in for my usual rad treatment, and the nurse to my rad oncologist comes in after I have gowned up to tell me that the X-ray found something...A Lytic lesion *then all I heard was something resembling the voice of the teacher in those old Peanuts cartoons*.."mwah, mwaah mwaaaaah, mwah."

I somehow managed to garble some most likely borderline indecipherable gibberish that she somehow must have understood to be a question: "So, is this another bone met?"

YES.

She was already telling me that they were gearing up to start another CT simulation and tattoo session for this new spot, along with setting up radiation treatments for my knee now.

That HOLYSHITHOLYSHITHOLYSHITFUCKER ticker tape thingy started to run constantly through my brain. A roar that drowned out all other thought and reason. How could this be? Nothing, I mean NOTHING had shown up in my right knee on that PET/CT fusion test that I just had done on March 16th. That means this stinker showed up in less than a month. That was when I came unglued even further.

Sooo, immediately after the radiation treatment was done, I was sent to the radiology department for a CT scan (without contrast since it was on such short notice) to get a clearer picture of this thing.

Don't ask me how I managed to drive myself home. Somehow, I did.

I got this news around 12:00 this afternoon. By 2:53, the nurse already had the CT results. Approximately 2 hours and 53 minutes, such a short timeframe by most standards, dragged by like a virtual eternity to me today...All hell broke loose in my brain. The tears I had cried up until today were only a slow leak compared to what I let rip today. The damn broke. For just short of three hours today, I was sure I was screwed...especially since the thing seemed to grow at record pace. My brain was such a fried, practically obliterated and totally whacked mess, I don't even remember much of anything coherent that crossed my mind now...Just that utter and complete panic.

But her call to say the CT was clear...That was the happiest I have been in a long LONG time. To say I felt like I hit the lottery would not be an exaggeration...I mean it...I truly did feel that way. I have been skipping around ever since.

Weeeell, okay, maybe not literally, since I got a semi bummed and weakened left leg and a hurtin' like a bitch most of the time right one, skipping is a physical impossibility for me right about now...but at least I was skipping in my brain.

Let me just say that I felt at the very least like a complete boneheaded idiota and moron for spazzing out times 100 and posting on the MPIP before I had the CT result to back up the X-ray...But deluded or not, I was under the total impression that an X-ray is one of the last tests that will turn up a tumor since it is the least sensitive...So if the X-ray found it, then I was convinced I was f**ked.

The nurse did tell me that my radiation onc will go over with me in more detail tomorrow what exactly the CT did show, and why it was possibe the x-ray was showing something, when in fact, the CT did not...But as far as I'm concerned, whatever it is, I don't rightly care too much...AT LEAST IT ISN'T MELANOMA!!

Sweet relief.

And a quick, hard and fast blow to my head to get me out of that totally negative mood I had been in the last couple of days. Nothing like being shown, blaring and blasting smack in my face, that things could always be worse to get my head screwed back on straight and think more positive.

A shitty way to be taught that lesson, to be scared shitless and totally out of your wits, but effective...very.

Some babbling on Easter

Just hangin' around...trying to stay sane.
This post will probably and most likely be all over the place...a little, no more like a LOT like my brain lately.
Saw one of those more than annoying mass emails that have been fowarded to like 10,067,845 people, sent to me by my sister where I had to scroll down through all sorts of html code and previous email addys to get to the actual joke, but when I did, one of the parts of it actually tickled my ass as somewhat funny:
The joke was in list format and listed things that people always wonder about. It was the last one. "The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four persons are suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of three of your closest friends, if they are okay, then it's you."
Mine are all okay. Mwaahhahahah.

Anyway. Nuff of that crap for now.

I actually got to thinking on this Easter morning, about all the good and sometimes amazing ways cancer has affected my life. All the nasty and negative as HELL crap is a no brainer, I just feel compelled to bitch, gripe and complain about it here so it doesn't continue to contaminate my brain and cause it to self destruct more than it already has ;)

The good stuff needs to be mentioned more, and I realized that, so here goes:

I have been overwhelmed by all the love and support I have received from friends and family alike...it never stops melting my heart, and I am not just saying that because it is expected of me. It really does...and it really floors me, and brings me to tears of pure joy...I never dreamed that little ol' me could mean so much to so many people. I still have to slap myself around a little bit to get my head outta my ass, cease all of my self deprecating BS and WAKE UP! Anyone, well...maybe most people, who know my history, know how insecure as hell I really am...Anyway...I have been overwhelmed with the best kind of happiness...

Happiness that I have never known, short of meeting and marrying my husband and having my two beautiful babies. It really means that much to me. All of YOU are my angels, and give me more strength to face whatever comes next than I could ever muster up all by my lonesome.

That just needed to be mentioned :)

As far as the radiation treatments are going, so far, so good.

I actually doze off for the few minutes that I am on that table, whacked as that may sound. And so far, I have had little to no side effects from it, 5 treatments down...anywhere from 5-9 more to go, depending on how I respond pain wise and otherwise.

Pain wise...ummm, it's getting there. At the very least, I got some great advice, and will definitely take it! So far, the radiation seems to be knocking down the pain in my sacrum/low spine...but I am still hitting the meds the same for the hip pain. Man O MAN, that one is a bruiser!! so it may take a bit...

I will probably post an update on all that is going on with new developments as far as the IL-2 prospects go sometime soon.

Complete change of subject here, but I have been writing and tweaking an article I want and plan to submit to a local magazine. It is aimed at getting awareness out about melanoma and what a NASTY BEAST it truly is...Got some facts in, along with a jab at tanning beds, and of course, I gave a little bit of my own story. I have to admit, I am a little bit intimidated, since the target readers of this mag are in the twentysomething (like under 27) age range. But the thing is, these are the people, aside from teens, who need to hear this message the most. Just a little intimidated...but that won't stop me. Anydamnway, I have written and re-written it like 3 times, and finally think I came up with something halfway decent...Then again, I am a bit off center lately ;)

I may post it here....not sure yet.

I know the pic below doesn't really 'fit' with the Easter thing, I just thought it was funny. Wish I could find a way to include that pic with the article I want to email to that magazine!

Yesterday, my husband and I actually got ourselves a couple of Easter presents:
A fire bowl for our back yard, which, in our honest opinions is AWESOME, because we can have little fires right in our own back yard; have a little of the fun of camping right here at home, cause we may only be able to squeeze a couple of trips in this summer. Of course, it goes without saying, that I plan on sqeezing in as much FUN as is humanly possible in whatever time I have left (which HOPEFULLY is a LONG, LOOONG time)...but for times when it just isn't possible, we got our fire bowl as another possibility. That, my hubbie, who I always have fun with, some variety of alcohol containing concoction (once I am OFF pain meds, of course) and possibly a big ol' doobie (or not), could have definite possibilities.
Plus, we got us some NEW cell phones. The ones we have before were dinosaurs, relatively speaking as far as techological crap goes. They were over 3 years old, come ON NOW. LOL. WE even got those bluetooth headsets. Man, I am just beside myself. lol.

Anyway, that is all that has been going on with me these last couple of days. More later on the IL-2. Just don't want to get all negative right now...and that treatment, to be totally honest, scares the SHIT outta me.

But not today.

Warning: Rant Fest, wig out negative type post...read at your own risk.

These last couple of days I must confess, that I have been about the furthest thing from a ray of sunshine beaming with optimism, wit, courage and strength. It would probably not be too far a stretch to believe that there really is a little black thundercloud complete with those little rhythmic zapping lightning strikes ala The Weather Channel graphics centered and hovering about 2 inches squarely above my head following me around.
Maybe I am long overdue for another meltdown of epidemic proportions...a wailing, whining, blubbering hissy fit that would be more fitting of a toddler than for a 35 year old woman...But at times, that is about what I feel like doing...Waaaah, waaaah, WAAAAAHHHH!

Then again, maybe it is PMS.

I don't know...All I know is that I have run the complete gamut and spectrum of emotions, good and bad within the last few days. Flipping out and going ballistic over the cable modem deciding to go on the fritz (Pass the Xanax), bawling like a 3 year old over my old 13 year old cat belching out a 3 foot line of regurgitated mess on my carpet for the 4th time in one day, skipping like a loon around the house and twirling around like I did when I was 5 over the fact that the pain meds actually knocked down the pain to a respectable, bearable and dare I say it, almost normal level?

Who knows...Maybe there is the very real possibility that I am a rapid cycling bipolar patient and have just been going undiagnosed all these years.

Actually, even just bringing up the pain medications, despite the fact that they are now helping tremendously, stirs up a whole host of negative emotions for me these last couple of days. A sore subject now, to say the least. Like having a molten hot poker jabbed into and twisting around into a not quite healed wound.
Here is an example of my not completely rational behavior and reaction to something that I am just hoping can be chalked up to a misunderstanding...To my overwhelming tendency to read too much into things...To my even stronger tendency of late to be slightly paranoid...

I was having one of those days yesterday...You know the kind where if there is something that is going to crawl up under your skin, drive you completely batshit and fry the very last nerve you have left, it can and does occur...at times, without mercy. I was already minorly annoyed over the prospect of 20 degree below average temps and snow showers over Easter for Christsakes. I mean, come ON! *see post far below about my sheer detestability factor to wintery like weather*
I won't bore those of you who actually read here, and brave this blubbering and at times meandering babble that I am prone to at times by stating all the other typical yet irritating shit that plucked on my one last nerve and snapped it throughout the course of the day yesterday...

But.
Then I happened upon a post on MPIP. I don't remember who the poster was now, but in given my *hopefully* paranoid and semi-delusional behavior patterns as of late, I am hoping I was just misunderstanding things and I was NOT in fact being dealt out a JAB/insult about my drug seeking junkie type behavior (*MAJOR tongue in cheek statement here) RE: My pain doc post and his ultimate response about my having to beware of docs thinking I am one to "chew" through narcotics without regard to instruction and potentially be labeled a problem patient.
NOTE: I am in no way intending any offense to the pain doc, as I highly respect his sage advice and willingness to stick around and help out so many MPIP'ers when in need of advice/help with pain management.

But this other poster made a statement about not wanting to be misjudged about being a Pain management problem child.
WTF?
Here I sit...hoping like hell that this post is in no way related to my previous post, praying that 90% of the MPIP population does not in fact believe me to be some sort of junkie who is exhibiting the first signs of drug seeking behaviors.

Let me just clear something up for all those doubters who may be among the ranks of people who may have quite possibly questioned this offensive assumption based on less than half of the actual story.

Just for the record, wierd and whacked though it may seem, my radiation oncologist gave me the lowest dose of those meds...and actually instructed me that I would most likely have to take them "more often" and to "let me [him] know how many I actually had to take so he could use it as a guide to give me something stronger." Believe it or not...Believe what you will...Shit...even my husband did a double take when he heard the doc say that....

I have given birth to two children, one of whom took 29 looooong hours to bring into this world, had 5 surgeries, some minor, some MAJOR>...and I mean MAJOR (Isolated Limb Perfusion/deep lymph node dissection)...and in every case, I could not STAND to stay on that medication any longer than absolutely necessary...I would always taper down the dose ASAP and each and every time, I would have leftover medication. Just for the record, I would rather be experiencing a liveable amount of pain and still feel totally straight in my frame of mind, totally with it, and able to perform all my normal day to day activities as soon as I could. The last thing I could ever stand was to feel like I was in that semi-catatonic narcotic induced haze and stupor as a trade off for complete pain relief.

But hell...I know I am blowing this WAY over the top, out of proportion. I don't even know why I feel compelled to justify myself...feeling as though I have been put on the defensive by something I hopefully completely misunderstood.

I know...I have probably gone completely off my rocker, lost the majority of my marbles, gone off the deep end....Whatever the case may be...

My head ain't screwed on quite right lately.

I just can't deal with this constant need, demand and pressure put on us as cancer patients to suck it up, be tough...smile ear to ear while melanoma could be eathing my insides out (I know...horrible visual, but I have envisioned it...and worse...) Be that towering and bionic pinnacle of admiration, inspiration and strength through the pain, the extreme fear...at times, crippling fear of that which we never want to think about.

It's bullshit.

I know. We all know. Yet we are compelled to show the world only the most desirable traits of ourselves...and never, under any circumstances, even if you are bleeding out the eyeballs, be negative or weak. But I choose to live in reality.

Here is my ultimate fear. It goes without saying. Literally. That elephant in the room. That nagging voice, a whisper on the wind...the one that threatens to drive you mad...That too bright neon sign that sears an imprint within the cortex of your brain...

It is one word. One concept. A given in life. Yet something not a one of us wants to face up close and on a personal level.

Death.

Hell, even I shut that crap down quick with comparable lightning fast speed to which it popped into my overly addled mind to begin with.

And as for the "happy meds" as I call 'em? More specifically, the Xanax; Shit...I'll be the first to admit it. I needed 'em. Probably a whole shitload of time longer ago than my stubborn ass would have allowed me to break down, cave in, and concede to accepting the script from the doc.

Good Lord above, I don't even want to contemplate the completely negative impression people would have of me if I honestly admitted to seriously considering dabbling in the realm and possibilities that could be brought on with a cannabis induced haze.

God Forbid.

To those of my dear and closest friends or family who have actually managed to torture themselves by making it this far down into this, my exhibition of my seemingly demonically possessed and totally shrewlike behavior in this post...I apologize profusely and with my whole heart...

Call it a momentary...okay, maybe not so momentary, lapse of reason, and another gap within my normal state of sanity.

If, that is, you could ever call me sane in the first place ;)

2 Down.

Well, I have now finished my second set of radiation treatments to my sacrum/pelvis and my right hip. Above is a pic of me on the table getting ready and gearing up to have my melanoma fried, sizzled, seared and cooked into a well-done oblivion and hopefully out of my bones for GOOD.
The radiation machine can actually be quite intimidating once you are lying on that table. It is very large when you are standing right next to it, or lying right under it...can get pretty overwhelming...
It can turn sideways so that it wraps around the table in sort of a C shape; it can rotate from side to side and even underneath the table so that the positioning coordinates with what was programmed into the system from the basic scans they took during the initial visits to determine the precise areas that need to be irradiated. Custom number coordinates for the table position are made based on the info obtained from the CT scan simulator, and the "tattoos" that are marked on you to make sure that you are positioned the exact same way each and every time you lie down on that table.
I am totally sure I am way oversimplifying this very complicated process, but at the very least, I am in complete awe over how detailed it all is...

Hell. It better be. I would hate to find out that one of my kidneys was fried to a crisp instead of one of the tumors.

Of course, as I stated before a hundred times to quite a few people, my main concern is obviously, that this whole complicated process of lining everything up, coordinating the position of the beam to the spots verified on the scan, etc. etc, and on and on...that it sizzles and zaps the living SHIT outta that mel that has taken up residence in my bones.

Overall, the staff has been incredibly friendly and kind. The atmosphere and general feel of the place is all tooled to create a sense of peace and inner calm complete with beautiful pictures and photographs on the ceiling for you to gaze upon in the vain hope that it will soothe you and distract you from what is, in fact, actually going on:

A war being waged between you, and ironically enough, mutant cells created by and trying to take over your own body. A war that not a one of us signs up for, but needless to say no one will never raise the white flag in surrender.

So far, I have had minimal side effects, but obviously, I can't jump to too many conclusions just yet, as I have only completed two out of anywhere from 10 to 14 treatments depending on how my melanoma metastases respond. I was told, however, that I could possibly experience some minor fatigue (like the major stress I have been feeling isn't already doing that) *eyes rolling*, possibly a slight chance of nausea since the pelvis area could possibly include a small part of the bowels, and also a slight chance of that not so fabulous malady of having to bolt to the little girls' room ASAP. As far as that last one goes, I figure it will all balance out, since narcotics are notorious for creating the exact opposite of that effect. Shit, stay on any narcotic long enough and you need a blasting cap or something equally as offensive to take care of that particular problem.

But, most importantly, and seemingly unanimously among all the docs and nurses, is that there is a very good possibility that these treatments will help tremendously with pain relief. To that, I am belting out a ginormous HALLELUJAH, LORD ALLMIGHTY, THANK GOD AND THE ANGELS ABOVE.

Oh, and of course, just in case I didn't stress this point enough, it can possibly and hopefully sizzle that melanoma up. Always an incredible possibility and needles to say, prayed for intensely.

As far as my pain control situation, things are looking up a bit.

The doc prescribed me some extended release Oxycontin...YEEHAW! along with some Oxycodone pills that don't contain Acetaminophen for episodes of breakthrough pain. As of last night, as they told me to expect, my blood levels of the Oxycontin were not high enough that I wouldn't need to hit the Oxocodones every few hours; I was told it would take a couple of doses to get it there...and if not, they will be tweaking it up some more....

But, I am happy to report, that while I slept like crap last night, staggered out of bed in a bleary eyed state of complete mental retardation and cognitive impairment from such a lack of good sleep lately, the shit kicked in at around 9:00am this morning or so. I was so ecstatic and on a natural high--*honest and swear to God I was not loopy from meds*--just simply due to the fact that I felt something close to normal...There was only the slightest achiness and I could actually walk like a young woman again...Not all hunched over and waddling like a bowlegged psycho from the lack of being able to put weight on my right leg.

I am PSYCHED to say the least. And I am sure to anyone I interacted with today, there was a MAJOR difference in my general mood and outlook that could no doubt be heard in my voice...I was just happy.

Hoping no one thought I had taken a nasty fall, whacked my head forcefully on a very hard surface and suffered irreparable brain damage, due to my happiness level being in direct contrast with the unfortunate circumstances lately....I can just imagine it would seem far out there and more than weird, that despite all this more than shitty news I have been blasted with as of late, that I was in such a euphoric mood today...A true testament to how miserable pain can make you; but on the flipside, without the pain, you never truly and fully appreciate how wonderful and completely incredible it is to feel good.

Okay...Now I am sure I sound like a total and complete whackjob.

But so much now, my thoughts get filtered through the "cancer filter" as I call it. There are several spin offs of this "cancer filter" also, but all of them arise as a direct result of it. Strange how that happens. It has become such an integral part of my thinking, for good (yes, believe it or not, there can be good) and for bad.

Good would be how much it opens your eyes; wakes you up to everything; makes you feel alive. Keep in mind that this is NOT my overall and most common frame of mind lately. I have had to work at this one SOOO much this last month or so...Hell, the last six months or so, who the hell am I kidding? Most of the time I feel like a blubbering idiot who would forget her head if it wasn't attached lately, my mind almost completely blasted out and obliterated...and the sadness...it looms like a vortex, a pit below you, trying with all its power to suck you in...It is a fight to keep yourself from being drawn in there...

But so far, I have to admit, I should give myself a big pat on the back..'cause for the most part, I am managing to pull myself up and keep focused only on what is right in front of me. All that matters right now. Everything matters, and I know I don't want to waste any more time than I have to wallowing in fear, utter panic, depression and self pity.

It is all peaks and valleys.

And I do respect totally the need to purge the negative crap and toxic feelings out before they fester and rot like a splinter that could not be dug out...A very BIG splinter. So I let myself cry...I let the damn break and let it go....

And even if it is only short lived, the relief that follows in the wake of a good cleansing and body wracked by sobs type of cry fest, is so worth it. It paves the way to get down to business and face head on whatever comes next.

Aww hell, I am probably not making a whole lot of sense right about now, considering the fact that I am currently in the middle of a Xanax induced zone out, completely sleep deprived and stressed out to the max.

Just trying my damnedest, no matter how futile an attempt it can seem at times, to wrap my mind around this, adjust to it (if that is possible), find a new perspective on it all, strike some semblance of balance in my mind, and find some level ground to stand on....ground that doesn't feel like it is constantly shaking with the aftershocks that are still registering on the Richter scale after the big quake already hit.

Eleven.

Wow....What a gift I have been given in watching this beautiful and amazing little girl grow, change and evolve...beginning to show little glimpses of the young woman she will soon become....
My beautiful Alannah, I cannot believe it for one second that you have just turned 11 years old a couple of days ago....Wow...How time flies.
My sweet Alannah took me 29 long hours to bring into this world. That moment of sheer joy and pure magic when time seemed to stand still and she finally burst her way into this world with that final push...all fire, blood, intensity and pure unadulterated euphoria on my part, she was the single most gorgeous thing I had ever laid my eyes upon; whatever ice had frozen my heart before that moment at 1:07am early that mornng, melted away when my eyes came to rest upon her. She wrapped her tiny fingers around my thumb from my thumbnail to my knuckle and I was flooded by a love so powerful it swept me under, took hold of me and wouldn't let go....it hasn't stopped yet, and I know, it never will.
In my young 24 years of life at that time, I had known nothing so incredible, so humbling, pure, passionate and powerful in my whole life.

She is fire, passion, drama, brains, beauty and tempestuousity tempered by innocent sweetness and silliness...gifted with a heart of gold and empathy for people and animals alike.

There is no better gift in this life than that of our children.

In whatever other way I could have possibly mucked up my own personal life, the fact that I played a huge part in creating this amazing person overshadows so much any other way I could have possibly fallen terribly short in my life....I need only look into the eyes of a little girl who looks remarkably like myself at 11 and a sweet little man who will most likely grow up to be a carbon copy of his daddy....

Today....as much as it breaks my heart...my kids found out that I am now stage IV. My daughter burst into heartwrenching sobs and crying at hearing that I now have melanoma in my lungs and bones...

Somehow it was too difficult to be kept from them any longer...

My cries at night with bone pain for the last week or so...

The talks with our family yesterday about starting chemo and radiation soon...

Despite our best efforts to be discreet, our children are always so much wiser than we give them credit for....Somehow, they always seem to have this uncanny ability to really suspect that something is going on; something is not quite right...

They could put the FBI to shame.

It just breaks my heart into a million pieces that they have to go through any of this at all. To see one tear...for every one tear that I see make its way down one of their soft cheeks, my gut wrenches up; I can't bear to cause them even one fraction of an ounce of pain...

Alannah's tears came in a torrent then stopped for a brief second for her to ask me one question: "Are you scared?"--see what I mean? My sweetie was worried about how I felt....

So I took Alannah's face in my hands, since she was the one face to face with me at that very moment, and I told her...(*abridged version) "We will both, both you and me, be very brave sweetie...I love you...I will fight like hell...My doctors will fight like hell for me...I am never giving up, and I am NOT going anywhere...Not if I have anything to say about it!!"

All I can say is melanoma better get its scraggly ol' MOFO ass outta here, because I plan on being here for every single, blessed moment...milestone, birthday, Christmas...

This is my solemn prayer.