'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

I meant to post a blog a long time ago, but I've been very distracted with holiday preparation. And by that I mean, I went to my aunt's house and slept on the couch while everyone else baked Christmas cookies. I swear, once you tell people you're battling cancer they're all like, "Oh, sweetie, please don't strain yourself!" and I'm all, "Oh, my cancer hurts. I shouldn't leave the couch. Would you mind making me hot cocoa?" Okay, let's get this update started...

Last time I wrote, it was before my fourth cycle had started. Now, I'm nearing the end of my fourth and last (hopefully, forever) cycle. Finishing the first week of the cycle was quite the struggle. I only had one week between my previous full week and the fourth cycle's, so there wasn't much recovery time. In other words, the side effects of the chemo had a much greater effect during this week of treatment. Rather than feeling nausea and fatigue set in on Thursday, I felt it on Wednesday. I was noticeably more tired than usual and felt overall more crappy. By Friday, the nausea had gotten pretty bad, BUT it all worked out for the best. I almost vomited in the treatment center and the nurse saw me and talked to my doctor about giving me more anti-nausea medication. SO, I spent the rest of the day and all weekend feeling a lot better. After I finished treatment, my dad brought the car to the door so I wouldn't have to walk to get to it, we high-fived and then I cried pretty much the entire ride home. I was so happy to be done with weeks like that. My family took me out to all-you-can-eat pizza and wings to celebrate! It was embarrassing how much I couldn't eat, but the pizza still tasted great. So I have no regerts. See what I did there?

The following weekend was spectacularly eventful. I went to my aunt's house on Saturday to bake Christmas cookies, and like I said earlier, I put a lot of effort forth in making sure those cookies were baked! My aunt probably won't vouch for the work I did, but that's okay. She's probably bitter because my batches tasted better. On Sunday, two of my friends worked in a visit to my house on their way home for Christmas. I don't get to see them very often, so it was awesome being able to spend an entire day with them. They also bought me a tshirt of a tiger wearing a sweat band that says, "No regrets". It's incredibly fitting, in more ways than one. 

On Monday, I had my second bleomycin day. The appointment was changed to Monday because Tuesday was Christmas Eve and the center wouldn't be open. So Monday was my second to last day of treatment and MY LAST DAY at the Radnor facility. My last day of treatment will be in Center City in Philadelphia because I have an appointment with my surgeon whose office is closer to that facility. My friend, Julie, and my younger brother, Mikey, and my mom came to treatment with me. It went by a lot faster having people to hang out with, not to mention, my friend's mother surprise visited me during treatment. At the end of my treatment I said goodbye to my nurses. That was really hard, because my nurses were awesome. I had a really good relationship with both of them, but really bonded with one of them over sushi and Always Sunny In Philadelphia. In fact, I just called her to see what her thoughts were on my white blood cell count and eating sushi today. My mom made both of them Egyptian food to thank them and I hugged both of them goodbye, but what really made this last cycle a little easier was that the nurse, Kathleen (who I talk to about sushi), started tearing up. She said it's always hard when patients leave because of the relationships that are built. I was really touched that Kathleen liked me enough to cry. I thought I was just that annoying kid in the background who wouldn't stop talking about sushi and watching The View at too high of a volume.

Christmas was splendid. I GOT A MOUNTAIN BIKE. AND A FRENCH PRESS. I also had an awesome time with my family. My mother unexpectedly said a very heartfelt pre-dinner prayer, so obviously, I cried (the cancer made me soft), but it was really nice. It's been a very difficult year with everything going on, and though we're thankful for the lessons learned, we are all happy for the year to be over. I have a good feeling about 2014. 

I guess that pretty much sums up the update. I should probably leave you all with a picture or something.

Family Christmas Eve Photoshoot

Some good ol' Peanut lovin'

A picture of a picture: A Christmas Special

Fourth Cycle, Last Cycle and Beyoncé

I guess I should start off by saying that Beyoncé's surprise album drop on Taylor Swift's birthday was genius. That's all I have to say about that.

My fourth and final cycle begins NEXT WEEK. And I am excited to announce that several friends will be joining me in treatment on Monday. It should make the day go by quick, which is great because that day is always the longest. This will be the toughest week I have ever faced since treatment started. Let me break it down for you. I went into my first cycle at 100%. The first full week knocked me down to 50%. Before my second cycle started I recovered to 80%. Then, my second full week knocked me down to 40%. I'd say I recovered to about 70-75%. By my third full week of treatment, I was taking about 3 or 4 naps everyday. I was completely exhausted and it was so much harder compared to my first week. During my first week I read nonstop for the full four hours of treatment. In my third week, I showed up in the morning and passed out until the afternoon, and would go home just to pass out some more. I mean...I love sleeping, but DAYUM, was I unproductive. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that my body is tired and this fourth full week is going to be TOUGH. Which brings me to my next topic...

Exercise.

One of the most frustrating things about my whole situation. After my surgery in September, I had to say goodbye to exercise for a full two weeks. Anyone who tries to stay in shape knows that a dormant two weeks means a complete loss of progress and a walk back to the starting line. So, that was the first frustrating thing. The second frustrating thing is that at my two-week follow-up appointment after surgery, my doctor told me that I wasn't allowed to lift for THREE MONTHS. I'm not jacked or anything, but you know, I had little bumps on my biceps that I was working on. Anyway, they're completely gone now. And so is the rest of the muscle that I had. The third frustration in all of this when it comes to exercise is the fatigue. In treatment this week, my blood results showed that my hemoglobin level was lower than normal. It was a 9.2. To put it in perspective, a value of 8 means the patient needs a blood transfusion. So, I'm still safe, but I'm anemic. Meaning, my fatigue has gotten worse. This is completely expected during chemotherapy, but it makes working out harder. If I could sum up my workouts on chemotherapy in one phrase I think it would be...kiddies, close your ears.

Running is a bitch.

Getting back into shape is a way longer process than would be if I wasn't on chemo. Not to mention, my blood pressure is significantly lower than normal. After runs (which, let's be honest, are barely runs at all), I have headaches on and off for the next day or so. And during my run, every time I try to pick up the pace my heart feels like it's going to explode out of my chest. Thanks for all the pumping, Heart, but if you could do a better job that'd be great. 

And to my last order of business...I was about to post the above as the entirety of this blog post, but my good friend, Sam (featured in previous blog...you know, Oxford Sam), sent me the following Ted talk.

http://www.ted.com/talks/jane_mcgonigal_the_game_that_can_give_you_10_extra_years_of_life.html 

For those of you who don't know, Ted talks are my favorite. This Ted talk is about post-traumatic growth. Throughout the entirety of this crappy situation, I never let myself sit down and dwell in a thought like, "No. No, this is just too much. This is total shit. Why me?" The key word being dwell. Obviously, I've had this thought, but I only sit with it for a second. The reason being that I know my recovery relies MAINLY on resilience. People of the blogging world, you can get through ANYTHING if you are resilient. Life is about getting knocked down and getting back up again. I've been knocked down many times before cancer and I'm sure you have all been knocked down many times too. But cancer has knocked me down like I've never been knocked down before, but, with resilience, I'm going to get up like I've never gotten up before. Cancer is the springboard to my goals. I am now more focused on my targets than I have ever been. I'm going to get into medical school and not only will I be a great doctor, but I will have the experience of being a patient. This cancer, which will eventually be a piece of my past, will help me relate to my patients. So, I believe there is a reason for everything, and maybe this is just one of the reasons why I got cancer. 

IN SUMMATION, watch the Ted Talk because it touches on four resiliences that I believe are what help me get through every day of treatment, even if I've been doing my own version of each of the speaker's tasks.

As I Lay Dying...from stomach cramps

Okay, maybe a little dramatic. Not to mention, somewhat cheap, given that I used the title of a book I've never read to introduce this post. Like I was saying, here I lay dying from stomach cramps. I was sound asleep, having sweet dreams about treatment tomorrow, where chemotherapy came to me in the form of the lollipop guild and we all danced along the yellow, brick road. Then, all of a sudden, I awoke, writhing in pain. I called upon my mother and father and they lovingly fed me Pepto Bismol. Yet, here I am. The residual pains from my cramps leave me sleepless and itching to tell the world. I can only hope the world yearns for my blog posts as much as I yearn to post blogs.

Bad News Bears, Guys...

Friends, family, and random readers who somehow stumbled to this blog and found the title of this post interesting enough to read on: it is settled--I have to do a 4th cycle. I met with my oncologist yesterday to talk about my new AFP level. There were two unfortunate things about this meeting. One of them was that I did not know this result would determine the 4th cycle. I thought I would have another AFP test after my 3rd cycle, but I was wrong. The second unfortunate thing is my AFP level was 2. TWO. I was so close. Anyway, I guess it's better to be safe than sorry. A 4th cycle would heighten my chances of kicking this cancer to the curb for good. So, instead of the 6 days I thought I had left, I now have 27 days. Quite the mental and emotional challenge. It was very hard to stay positive when I found out the news.

My new final day of treatment is December 31, New Year's Eve. In a way, I guess this is the bright side to a 4th cycle. My battle with cancer will come full circle. I can end my year and leave cancer behind me as I start over, new and healthy, in 2014. I also have my follow-up appointment with my surgeon the morning of the 31st, and I'm pretty sure he will clear me to start lifting again. Not to mention, I talked to my oncologist and I am allowed to have a glass (one glass) of wine the night that I finish treatment. This is pretty exciting, as wine is my favorite alcohol. I will be celebrating the year's end and my cancer's defeat with my family at my aunt's house in New Jersey at her yearly New Year's Eve party. It should be a really great time and I am pretty excited. January 1, 2014, can't come soon enough.

Before I end this blog post, I wanted to share a link with you guys. My team, for some odd reason (they must love me or something), started a fundraiser for me. They call it "Funds for 'Fogs - The Julie Mina Campaign". It's actually the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. They will be sending all of the proceeds to my family to help us pay the medical bills for all of this cancer crap. This isn't me telling you that if you don't donate, I'll hate you forever. This is me just posting the link to let you know that it's there if you want to help. Also, if you're in the Ithaca area, my team is holding a benefit concert this Friday night at 10 PM at the Nines on College Ave and my buds, Shannon and Bekah, are playing! I usually take part in these concerts, but since I can't be there to play, Shannon will FaceTime me on stage. Alright, that's enough about me...

Here is the link to donate: http://cwrfc.com/

And here is the link to the facebook page and details for this Friday's concert: https://www.facebook.com/events/204064706445421/ 

Also, if you guys could keep my friend, Mike Judge, in your thoughts and prayers on Dec. 10, that would be great. I met Mike in the treatment center, and if you haven't read any of my previous posts, he is 19 years old and he is battling Ewing's sarcoma. He has surgery to remove the tumor in his arm on December 10 and this is me wishing him luck!! GOOD LUCK, MIKE!!

Good luck on finals, everyone!!! Or whatever else you do with your life...

The Things That Suck

Yes, I know what you're thinking: "Who is this blogger that doesn't post for weeks and then posts twice in two days?" It's me. I'm the blogger. I begin my last full week of treatment tomorrow and I thought this might be a good time to talk about all of the things that suck about full weeks of treatment. If you're reading this and you are looking for something to read that makes you feel jolly about life, please leave now. Also, why would you look at a cancer patient's blog? That's sickening and inhumane. If you're looking to read something while you're down in the dumps about a bad break-up, or your lack of motivation for starting a workout plan, or if you're just curious about cancer, READ ON. I will explore some of the things that suck about the full weeks of treatment of a chemotherapy regimen. Enjoy.

1. I wake up everyday at 7 am. Because of the steroid I get on days 9 and 16, I usually sleep from 4:30 am to 11:30 am. So, you can imagine the misery I feel on Mondays of full weeks when I wake up at 7, having fallen asleep only several hours before. It's almost as bad as the all-nighter I pulled before my biochemistry midterm last fall. Or the all-nighter I pulled before my biochemistry final last fall. I guess they were both equally miserable. The lesson here is that if you can pull off a good grade when saving your work for the last minute, then continue to live your life that way. Wait, no. That's not a good lesson. I don't even remember what I was talking about. Man, I'm glad biochem is over.

2. The treatment center is an hour away. Okay, I guess I have no reason to complain. Some of the patients that go to my treatment center travel 2 hours to get there. I can't imagine their full weeks of treatment...Either way, the travel time REALLY sucks. I'm just so sick of being in cars even though I can count on one hand the number of times I've driven in the past 2 months. My chauffeur also has really bad taste in music. KIDDING. I don't have a chauffeur. Well, if that didn't make me lose a large percentage of my readers, I don't know what will! BADAM CHICK!

3. I spend 4+ hours in the treatment center everyday. Yes, everyday. What do I do, you ask? Well, I watch ABC. First there's "LIVE with Michael & Kelly", which is something my old roommates used to watch anyway, so it's not so bad (shout out to the old roommates). Then there's that cooking/talk show thing with Rachel Ray. While we're on the subject, I really don't think America should have given Rachel Ray a talk show. I just don't understand it. She already had her whole cooking thing going for her. Unless her talk show hosting skills surpass those of Oprah's, then she should have just continued to teach us all how to make meals in 30 minutes, because the talk show portion of her new show just isn't doing it for me. Nonetheless, I still watch it. Why, you ask? Because there is absolutely, positively nothing else to watch on the other 5 channels. After Rachel Ray's gig, there is the View. Sometimes it makes me laugh. Sometimes. After the View I usually pass out for awhile until I'm done treatment. Before cancer, I had never really seen any of these shows. I would like to announce to everyone right now, because I know you have all been wondering: YOU ARE NOT MISSING ANYTHING. I repeat, NOTHING IN THESE MORNING TALK SHOWS WILL CHANGE ANYTHING IN YOUR LIFE. At best, they are background noise. I'm sorry if anyone really likes any of these shows. You can message me and we can battle it out there. Or here. I don't care. I'll stand by what I said. You know, I used to read throughout the entirety of my treatment, but now I'm too tired or unable to focus enough to read for that amount of time. Chemo has ruined me.

4. My inconceivable amount of trips to the bathroom. Yep, I'm being serious. Because the chemo drug, Cisplatin, affects kidney function, the doctor gives me a diuretic to help my body flush out the drug. Not only do I receive a diuretic, but the nurses hang up a big ol' bag of hydration. So I make many, many trips to the bathroom about an hour and a half into treatment. About every 5 to 10 minutes, actually. I might as well just post up in the bathroom with Netflix. Oh wait, I can't because THERE'S NO INTERNET. Oh, I didn't mention that before? Yeah, you might as well just leave me here to die. Ahem, okay. I'm done complaining. 

5. My loss of appetite. During full weeks I usually have a small breakfast when I get to the treatment center, something small when I get home, and then if I even think about food for too long after that I might vomit. So I usually don't think about food. It's been working well for me so far.

6. The sleepiessss. I pass out on and off all day, erryday during full weeks. I become undependable, unreliable, un...awake. Let me put it this way, I probably won't answer your texts or calls. When I do, even my text is slurred. And my texts already don't make sense WITHOUT the chemo. Don't even try to imagine it--you'll hurt yourself.

7. FIVE.LONG.DAYS. Last, but not least. The thing that sucks the most is that even though it is only just a week, it is a long, hard week. And I dread every second of it. BUT, if this is, in fact, my last full week of treatment, this week's end will feel so sweet. So, let's hope for an alpha-fetoprotein level of 0!

Okay, so I couldn't even come up with 10 things. Obviously, my life isn't all that bad.

FINEPRINT: I hope everyone who reads this understands that I am kidding. Yes, chemo treatment sucks, but it is a small price to pay for the good health that will result from it. Not to mention, my family and friends and readers that I have never met have been an AWESOME support system. I use this blog to make fun of the situation I am in and I hope it's fun for anyone who reads it. If at any point you are sick of my fake (real, but I don't want to be annoying) complaining, please do not feel obligated to continue reading. It's not like I've been dealt a really crappy hand or anything. It's not like I'm sitting at home alone with my dog all the time, just waiting for someone to come hang out with me. It's not like I've spent the past 5 weeks on a paint-by-number because I'm not good enough to make my own painting. Yeah, it's not like that. So don't worry, I'll be fine here all alone, by myself, laughing at my own jokes on the blog I write for myself.