My Third Cycle and, Hopefully, A Roundhouse Kick to Cancer's Face

Wow, it's been awhile since I posted a blog. I guess I've been busy with my cancerous lifestyle, you know, chilling at da treatment center wit mah homies, chillin at home wit mah puppy, paintin and shit. No, just kidding. I went up to Ithaca for a bit and hung out with some of my friends. The last time I enjoyed myself like that I was running up my rugby team's bar tab at Level B (side note: so sad I'm missing formal this semester). I got into Ithaca just in time for my friend's 21st birthday and fishbowls at Level B (because Level B is just so classy), and I flew through the night on the wings of sobriety. I was blessed with the opportunity of watching my friends trade in their good judgment for blue raspberry koolaid mixed with vodka. Later on, after enough fishbowls are chugged and too much money is spent on alcohol, the dancing usually begins. This is my favorite part because you can always spot the girl who is way too drunk and probably too young to be in a bar. This time...oh let me tell you, THIS TIME, that girl had toilet paper stuck to her boot. And she was dancing her crazy ass all over the place. This made for an easy transition back into the college life. So I spent my night living vicariously through the drunk girl with toilet paper stuck to her boot.

Now to what it was really like being back at school for almost a week. For my friends who have taken semesters off before, I hope this is something you can relate to, and maybe we can bond about it over a beer later. Well, to be quite honest, being back at school was weird. I felt like a guest in my own home. I've really grown to love Cornell, and having been away from it for so long has been extremely tough. I didn't really expect that my visit would feel completely normal, but I also didn't think that it would be as hard as it was. As odd as it sounds, I don't think my battle with cancer really hit me until I was back on the Hill, attending class with a couple of my friends. Wow, that makes me sound like the biggest nerd ever. Let me clarify, I was attending class because I showed up in Ithaca in the middle of the week--it was either that or hang out with Netflix for a day. So, I got to U.S. Healthcare Systems, and not only did I decide that I want to take that class next fall, but I also decided that cancer sucks. Cancer took from me a semester that I had rightfully earned. All of these college kids showed up to this 200/300 lecture all giddy and excited about their weekend plans and there I am wishing I didn't have to spend the next few weeks of my life in a treatment center. If you haven't already guessed, cancer really does suck, and speaking as a young adult with cancer, I feel betrayed by my body. My body, which is supposed to work with me, has been working against me and brought me here: cancer. Now that all of my readers have closed this blog due to a very whiney cancer patient who won't stop whining because she thinks she has a right to just whine, whine, whine, I will move on...

My real reason for visiting Ithaca was to celebrate some of my favorite traditional events with my teammates. Saturday night was Jock Jams. This party is only for the elite, and by that I mean, if you don't show up in a good costume you might as well just go home and cry yourself to sleep. So naturally, I showed up in full-body, green spandex. Yes, you guessed it! I was Charlie Kelly's Greenman from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, my new obsession. Well, actually my new obsession is Grand Theft Auto V, but that's for another blog post. 

This is Greenman performing Blue Steel from the movie, Zoolander

This is Greenman with friends, Lee (left) and Sam (right). Fun fact: Sam will be doing cancer research and earning her Masters in Oncology at Oxford next year. According to Sam, I inspired her to choose that path, and I will, from now on, take all of the credit for her achievements. YOU'RE WELCOME, SAM!

On Sunday was our annual Rugby Thanksgiving Dinner. The day where we force all of our rookies to prepare a wonderful Thanksgiving feast and I sit on the couch and make fun of everyone and everything. And that's exactly what I did. It was just like old times. The only difference was that now that I have cancer, I was no longer an "asshole" for not helping. I plan on milking this cancer thing every single second until I am in remission.

This is the team with all of the food we made. Surprisingly, not every dish is featured in the above photo.

Speaking of remission, I find out the results of my alpha-fetoprotein level within the next few days. If you saw in my last post, my level was 14 and I need that number to go down to 0. If I only have to do 3 cycles, then my last day of treatment will be December 10. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS....just in time for the holidays! I'm already thinking about all of the wine I'm going to drink once I'm finished with chemo. 

For the remainder of this blog post, I would like to pretend that I am a wise, experienced, young woman and give some advice to my readers. Here it goes...

1. Choose your friends wisely. You never know when a study Sunday turns into an all-nighter in the Emergency Room and you need people to take care of business while you battle cancer.

2. Let yourself relax. After having spent 3 years at Cornell and working pretty much every single second of every single day, relaxing isn't an action that is often performed. And when it is performed, you can bet your ass you'll feel incredibly guilty about it. So when I started this semester with nothing to do, I kind of panicked. A couple months later and relaxing is all I do! Actually, I don't know how I'm going to make it through the spring semester because I'm pretty sure I don't know how to read anymore. Nonetheless, everyone needs time to themselves if they want to be successful.

3. Write blogs. The thought of starting a blog crossed my mind early on in treatment, but it wasn't until I met my 19-year old fellow cancer patient, Mike Judge, in the treatment center that I thought seriously about publicly sharing my journey. Now, I'm less than a dozen posts in and I have more than 10,000 views. Pretty amazing, if you ask me. Check out Mike's story here: http://thebiggestgame.blogspot.com

Okay, I've decided to save the rest of my advice for later posts/I've run out of advice because I've actually learned nothing about life from this experience. BUT STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT MY NEW ALPHA-FETOPROTEIN LEVEL.  I hope everyone had a fantastic Thanksgiving!

NEXT STOP: Interview on Ellen and Photoshoot with Oprah--Ain't No Thang, but a Chicken Wanggggg!

Yup, you read it correctly. I, Julie Mina, have an interview lined up on Ellen and a photoshoot with Oprah Winfrey written on my calendar. And by interview and photoshoot, I mean I'm going to continue to watch Ellen interviews on Youtube while eating chicken wings and cry to lifetime movies alone in the dark. Okay, so my life isn't that exciting, but I have to make these things up if I want people to even glance at my blog. Speaking of glance, this is actually pretty exciting (and I'm not pulling your leg here). I have close to 8,500 views on my blog. That's pretty cool, given that I've only posted 5 times so far. I've also been getting a lot of adds to circles on Google+. I am really flattered. I was not expecting people to actually like what I was writing about. 

I would like to start off this post with a video. A video that I believe serves as an inspiration to all of us. I bet if I started every day off like little Jessica in the video below, I would be a much better person.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0ifIQNwXBE 

Sing it, Jessica. You make the world a better place.

Anyway, I guess I haven't written in awhile and there are some things I should catch everyone up on. One, I have officially finished my second full week of treatment. My last day was Friday and, lemme tell ya, full weeks suck the life right out of you. WHERE MAH CANCER PATIENTS AT. YAFEELME? Luckily, I did not have any major nausea issues this time though. No head in the toilet and no unpleasant conversation about it afterwards at dinner. It's the small things in life. Oh also, an update about my cell counts: On Saturday I had a doctor's appointment in Philly to get a Growth Factor shot so that my WBC count doesn't continue to be so low. The side effects of the shot are muscle pains (sometimes horrific), but I haven't had any bad side effects yet, so that's all good! Second, I saw some of my friends from school on Saturday. Some of my teammates made the trek from Ithaca to Philadelphia to see the New Zealand Maori All Blacks play the USA Eagles and they bought me a ticket (Lili, I have a check for you, by the way). I had such a blast seeing my teammates and being around rugby again. We even found one of our teammates on a picture at the Ivy Rugby tent! Photo credit goes to Alanna Grossman

How cool is that? Work it, Olivia. THAT'S my TEAMMATE *clap clap clap clap clap*. 

And here is a picture of both teams before the game. I have a video of the All Blacks performing the Haka, but you can barely see it from my seat, so just look it up on youtube. It's pretty cool.

The game was awesome, it was just freezing. Unfortunately, I was still pretty nervous about my white blood cell count and didn't think it was the best idea to stay the whole time given the weather, so I left after the first half. It sucked because I'm young and, usually, being out in the cold for a rugby game shouldn't effect me, but whatever--at least I got to see my friends. And I had pretty shitty seats, BUT it was only $30, so HELLLL YEAHHHH. Thirdly, well...I think this news deserves its own paragraph.

Okay, THIRDLY, I have some exciting news. So my doctor has been keeping track of my cancer by following the levels of a protein called the alpha-fetoprotein. Before I had surgery to remove my ovary, and thus my tumor, my alpha-fetoprotein level was >11,000. So...if you didn't realize...that number is....well, it's pretty damn high. After my surgery, that number went down to about 1,730. The goal of my chemotherapy treatment is to get that level down to 0. This will determine if I have a 4th cycle or not. For those of you just tuning into the Adventures of Julie Mina and A Riveting Battle with Cancer (the alternative title for this blog), my protocol is basically this:

3 cycles of 21 days each, with treatment on days 1-5, 9, and 16

If my alpha-fetoprotein level is 0 at the end of my third cycle, then I don't have to do a 4th cycle, BUT if it's at 1, I will be facing another cycle that dips over into January. In other words, I will carry my chemo treatment throughout the Christmas holidays :(. For those of you who are a little more slow than the rest of us, this is BAD. Super, super bad. Obviously, I'll have to just suck it up if that's the case, but damn. If I only have to do 3 cycles, then I'll be done with chemo on December 16. THAT WOULD BE THE BEST CHRISTMAS PRESENT EVER. And that brings me to my exciting news...So after my surgery, my alpha-fetoprotein was about 1,730. It was tested again after my first cycle of adjuvant chemotherapy, and guess what it was...

700? No...

500? Nope, guess again!

250? NO, YOU SUCK AT THIS.

It was............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................a measly, little 14. Yes, 1-4. My alpha-fetoprotein level after one cycle of chemotherapy was 14. GO BACK AND RE-READ IT, I SWEAR YOU'RE NOT SEEING THINGS. Here's a table to help you visualize.

Treatment Stage	Alpha-fetoprotein Level
Pre-surgery	>11,000
Post-surgery	~1,730
Post-cycle 1	14

Here is a graph to further aid comprehension of the significance of these results (sorry, all I do at school is write lab reports, and I hate myself for this, but I kind of miss it--SCREW YOU IF YOU JUDGE ME. I HAVE CANCER, YOU HEARTLESS ASSHOLE).

As you can see, my alpha-fetoprotein level (blue line) is relatively 0. EXCITING SHIT!!! 

Okay, now for even better things. Pictures of my puppy and my henna tattoos. Thanks to my good friend Mady for taking precious time out of her day to draw things on my unbelievably pale, bald head.

Peanut is obviously over my photoshoots.

I don't wanna work, I just wanna bang on my drum all day.

The world, it's just so mesmerizing #beauty #sunsets #contemplative

Democracy: Friend or Foe?

AND NOW....for my BALDDDDDD ASSS, TATTOO-COVERED HEAD...

I swear this was not meant to look like a Yarmulke.

The beauty lies between the lines.

WELP, that's all for now. I hope to have more exciting news in my next post. 

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (Turn and face the strain)

DISCLAIMER: THIS POST MAY NOT BE THAT FUNNY AND IT IS KIND OF LONG. YOU ARE NOT OBLIGATED, AS A FRIEND OR FAMILY MEMBER, TO READ. SIMPLY SAY, "OH YEAH, GREAT BLOG" AND I WILL AUTOMATICALLY ASSUME YOU ARE A LOYAL, LOVING SUPPORTER OF MY FIGHT AGAINST THIS DEADLY ILLNESS, WHO READS ALL OF MY POSTS EVEN IF THEY ARE NOT SITCOM-FUNNY. (Have you no shame?) 

Well, today I began my second cycle. Andddd what a day it was. I arrived at the treatment center around 9 AM. As soon as I got there, one of the nurses took some blood to do a blood work-up. Then, I waited for the results. I waited for a very long time. Keep in mind these results were pretty important because if my WBC count is still too low, I might have to delay my treatment for an entire week. This really unsettled me because if my treatment was delayed for one week, it would push everything back and I might not finish in time to go back to school in the spring. It would just make everything more complicated. It would also be incredibly mentally frustrating. I had spent all last week mentally preparing for a full week of treatment. To push it off for a week can really mess with someone. My results came back around 1 PM and my WBC was still too low, but it wasn't low enough to make my doctor want to delay treatment (get down witch yo bad self!). Unfortunately, I didn't leave the treatment center until 4:45 PM. Yeah, it was a long day...I guess now I should talk about some of my emotional struggles with cancer.

First there is the struggle of having cancer. That's pretty tough in itself, seeing as this disease has killed so many before me. THIS IS SCARY SHIT. My body is supposed to be working with me, not trying to kill me. My body is being all, "YOLO, let's go out with a bang, baby!" And I'm trying to calm it down saying, "No, come on, body. I have plans. I want to be a doctor. We have to do things during these years!" I guess what I'm trying to say is that every twenty-something-year-old has this notion that they're invincible, and I was certainly one of those people. And to have that stripped from me too early on can be pretty devastating. These are the years that people play rugby because there's really no reason not to. Because, "There are just as many injuries in soccer as there are in rugby," a line I used to recruit players all the time. By the way, if you don't know me, I do (did?) play rugby for the Cornell Women's team since my freshman year of college. Having played other sports my entire life, but not rugby, I thought why not? Well, after cancer I now know that I am not immune to disease, injury, or death. So...why not play rugby? Because shit happens. Shit like this...

Now, that doesn't look too fun, kids, does it? Poor guy probably doesn't even know where he is with a head injury like that. Anyway, I know my teammates are reading this thinking, "Well JFogs (my rugby nickname), we all really miss you, on and off the field, and you've played with us for so long. How are you supposed to come back to Cornell and not play rugby?" HAVE NO FEAR, MY FELLOW TEAMMATES, I am not saying I won't play (I haven't decided yet--sorry in advance!). I am merely addressing the fact that US TWENTY-SOMETHINGS FACE DEATH JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE. Pretty frightening, huh? That was a pretty big tangent about something we all already know...

Emotional struggles, right. I guess I could sum up my emotional struggle in a single text that a very good friend sent me this morning before I began my second cycle:

"It's okay to not want to go, it's just not okay to let it get the better of you. The world tests us in ways we never expect, whereas before it was Cornell, you've traded that in for something that's a lot more real. But just because it's of a different nature doesn't mean you should approach it any differently. Think about last semester when you got your physics final grade back [I killed it!], or 2 summers ago after doing Insanity for 2 months [It killed me!]. That's what you recognize as personal victories, because you worked your ass off for something you wanted and finally got it. Neither of those came easily and if they had, they wouldn't have felt as good. This is no less of a personal victory. Getting through EACH day of this is an active personal victory. And you have to work your ass of for it. Even when you feel like you're just sitting there having a million things done to you, you're working for it, physically and emotionally. Sometimes we need something like this to tear us down so we can see what we're made of, and then we can begin to rebuild. Every semester you've had to deal with shitty tests. This semester, this is yours. That doesn't mean you're doomed to fail. It means you need to work your ass for it. It means you've done it before and you will do it again."

Now, I know what you're thinking...wow, that's a pretty long text. Obviously, I didn't think that because I'm a five year-old and every time I get a long text, I'm like, "Oh, a present!" Anyway, let's focus on the content you, Debbie Downers! This was the kind of motivation I needed to hear. My Dad doesn't know it, but I spent most of the drive to the treatment center crying. I miss my friends my so much. I miss being at school and having the freedom to go to a crowded place because my white blood cell count isn't of concern. I miss playing rugby. I even miss having classes to go to and material to learn. I just miss living my life. Not to mention, not only am I not living my life right now because of cancer, but I'm constantly doing things I hate doing. Like sitting in a treatment center for 8 hours, receiving drugs that make me feel like dog poop. This stuff is pretty depressing and it's hard waking up every morning and motivating myself to be positive. But this text most certainly helped. And my struggle has really helped me appreciate the cards I've been dealt. I don't know how people fight cancer for years in the hope that they can one day beat it. Like I said in my past posts, the cure rate for my particular type of cancer is really high and that's only after a few months of treatment. I got it good, guys. This is nothing in the grand scheme of things. As my mom would say, "It's just a little hiccup." I'm probably going to go back and read this text from time-to-time. It's a big nudge in the right direction.

AND NOW...FOR THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. My hurrrrrrrrr. I have some bad news though. After I cut off my pony tail (protocol for donating to Locks of Love), too much hair had fallen out that the only hairstyle that I could sport was the ever popular...........................MOHAWK. Tattoos to come this weekend! I am still taking suggestions. 

Here are some photos from a photoshoot with my professional photographer, Sizzle. We've been working on projects together for years now. He says that I'm a natural model and my bone structure is enviable (Sizzle was taking his lunch break when the following photos were taken).

Smize/Duckface/Smuckface???

Thug lyfe<3

Oh no, I think I pulled something

Is my eyebrow high enough? Hmm, I don't think so.

IIIIII don't think this could get any creepier

Because I love my readers so much... 

SO...that was the most embarrassing thing I have ever put of myself online. But I do it for you guys. I do it for the fans/I wish I had fans. I also wish I wasn't so de-socialized from being home for so long. There is no way that photoshoot is okay to post online. It wasn't even okay to have the photoshoot. I should have waited for Sizzle to finish his lunch first. To be honest, I did this for myself. Losing my hair was a really, really difficult process for me. Before it started falling out, I had planned to not show my bald head to anyone. But I wanted to post these goofy pictures of myself to embrace my hair loss and hopefully serve as an inspiration to anyone who might be going through something similar. My mohawk is something I never had the guts to actually do and right now it's helping me give cancer the middle finger. I'm having a blast beating cancer, and I'm not going to stop.

Peace&Blessings, 

Julie

P.s. I've committed social suicide with these photos and that .gif.