Realities of metastatic cancer

Having metastatic cancer is smiling when your family can laugh when you're not in the room because that means they'll be happy even after you're gone

Busy waiting

I'm currently trying to type this through tears, so I don't know how well it'll go.

I'm waiting on a call from the vet. One of my cats has a broken femur. It's not the first one for her, either, and that's part of the heart ache. We don't know why she's breaking bones. One thing the vet said, hesitantly, is that she could have osteocarcinoma. If that's not spelt right I don't care right now. I hate cancer. I hate that my cat that has been always ready to curl in my lap or onto my shoulder and purr her head off is suffering.

The call from the vet will say one of two things, the specialty surgeon will meet to discuss possible surgery, or that she is not a candidate and we need to look at putting her down. So either it will be go beyond debt or kill my furkid... My husband and I are in turmoil, we love this cat, she is our furkid, she might die soon. We have to make that choice, shortly.

My heart is breaking. And to top things off, I'm going for a ct scan tomorrow to find out if my cancer is spreading. I'm lost, so lost. I wish I knew what to do.

A Smile

I don't know if it is because of my post yesterday but there started being some activity on our Meal Train page yesterday.  If you don't know what Meal Train is, it's a site that you can set up and people pick a day to make a meal for a person/family.  My son's teacher started one for us last year after several parents had asked if there was any way they could help.  It's been a great relief for us, it's anything from home cooked meals, gift cards so we can enjoy a night out with the family, or take out brought straight to us.  I cannot be more grateful for their kindness and open hearts.  And so I say thank you to those of you that take time out of your day to think of someone else, those that understand that living with cancer is a trial to begin with and adding physical disabilities just compounds that, those that wish to bring a ray of light to those that feel stuck in the dark pit of despair.

Update for August 2016

This summer has been nice.  I'm on a chemo break so, unlike last year, I get to do more activities with the kids.  My hubby and I have been trying to take them to more playgrounds, to get them outside in the nice weather.  We were gifted some passes for a local park called Upper Clements Park from a good friend so we took the two oldest up for a day of rides and adventures.  They had a blast, my back took a beating but it's par for the course these days.

A friend had started up a GoFundMe page for our family, but it's not really taken off.  I'm not a cute little kid in need, I'm not totally bed ridden yet, so I don't get a lot of funding coming my way.  A lot of people don't think I'm sick when they see me.  My hair is coming back (thanks to a lovely lady, it's blue and purple currently), I'm looking healthier because I've gone down almost 4 pants sizes, I'm not displaying the tired, sunken, daunted appearance that most associate with terminal cancer.  In fact, at first I didn't want to go near fundraising for two reasons:

1. I'm stubborn.  I've worked for what I've wanted since I can remember.  I would pet-sit, had a paper route, made/sold crafts, got a job in the school cafeterias at lunch, had an after school job, frig, I always had a job, I was always earning my keep, I had to go on EI once and hated it.  Now, I need help because I can't just go out and get a job.  I can't seem to sell my art because it's so easy for cheap crap and cheap crap artists to flood the market that quality handmade items are deemed too expensive. This leaves me with basically asking for help because my husband's salary is taking a hit with all the extras that have popped up because of cancer.

2. This is going to just seem pessimistic to many of you, but it really hasn't given me many signs to the contrary.  People don't give a shit when you don't look like death with cancer.  They don't understand "living with cancer", the mass populace still thinks cancer is curable in all forms if caught early.  Stage four breast cancer is not understood, breast cancer is over used to fatten corporations' pocketbooks with that fucking pink ribbon/save the tatas/save second base/etc bullshit.  Once you get passed that, my other thought along the same line, not enough people really want to help.  There's been so many con-artists that they just think people want free money.

Now I'll tell you why I agreed to fundraising.

I had hoped, hoped and hoped, I was wrong.  I hoped that people would support me as much as others that are/were in our community.  I saw friends helping raise over $10,000 for people so they could go on family vacations, pay off cancer bills, just not have to worry about money.  And those people weren't even terminal!  So I hoped we would be able to have the same happen to us.  I mean, I have hundreds of friends out there, lots of people that say they want to help out, so why not?  I could take the kids to Disneyland or Disneyworld, my hubby and I could have a special night to ourselves without incurring more debt, we could pay down the bills so that his salary was more than capable of handling the surprises and fumbles along the way...  I actually got excited.  Then I saw exactly what I had originally thought come to light.  People say they'll come but they don't.  People say they'll support, but they won't.  I can't expect the same people that actually commit and keep their word to support me and my family.  That's a burden I don't want to place on them.

Not everything is dismal, however.  Like I said, we were able to go to Upper Clements Park and another friend let us know about a great place in PEI that has something available for terminally ill people and their families.  We'll probably be digging the hole deeper, but we'll be having memories made for the kids.  Things they can look back on and be fond of.  I'll find solace in that.

Passed The Halfway Point

14 months gone... 13 more? Less? Or am I going to luck out and get more?

Living with stage four....

Shouldn't Be Surprised...But I Am

There's a lot that goes on in even the average day-in-the-life-of-Julie.  I go through a tirade of emotions and levels of pain.  I have lots of dips in the mental strength area.  I have a lot of moments of weakness.  It's the new normal.  I have a normal.  So there's things that are not normal for my everyday, and they surprise me, but for some reason I keep being told they shouldn't.  They do because they are not my normal.

What surprises me?  People actually being nice to others and not wanting something in return.  This includes people taking the time and effort to make meals for my family, taking a moment to call/text/msg me or Mike to see how we are actually doing and not assuming, people that follow through, now that really surprises me lately.

It's come to the point that I see people that understand how the shadow of death looms over the future of people with late stage cancer and I am in awe.  I have seen some friends get things they so justly deserve: family vacations, help with child care, and even help with paying off debts that got out of whack with their diagnosis.  Cancer happens.  None of us did anything to deserve it, like you insinuate when you tell us what diet will cure us, like when you tell us of all the things to stop because you saw a hoax video that you now take as the Gospel truth, when you look through us as we tell you we are still trying to live.  You might mean well with your pseudo science, but you're making a bad situation worse.

Then there's the other side, those that refuse to admit we're deathly sick.  This is why I'm so shocked when I hear about people that "get" what it's like to live with ailments and don't judge a single ounce.  They just act like we should be able to do everything, we're making a mountain out of a molehill, or compare us to people without terminal/permanent illnesses.  First off, no one person is the same, and we all have our difficulties in life.  Now, remembering that we all have issues we're dealing with, start envisioning some of the complications that illnesses add to that.  The constant appointments, the tests, anxiety waiting for the results, the defeat when things are worse, the brief breath when things are okay knowing that could change in a heart beat, the pain, the mental confusion, the exhaustion, the constant questioning of self, and so much more.  As much as one tries to convey what reality is for these people to understand, they don't get it, and likely never will.

I am also surprised when someone doesn't turn the situation to about themselves.  Trying to make the victim be the cause of their pain, trying to make the patient be the fault in their life.  It's common... all too common.  People would rather point out "all you have to be positive about" instead of admitting you might have a reason to be as depressed, sad, angry, upset, etc.  They also like to start fights when there is no reason for one other than that they want the focus on them and not one second on someone else.  They're more important, the world must bow to them.

So, yes, I am surprised when people are nice to me and my family.  Especially those that do not know us that well.  I'll be thankful every time I'm surprised, and try to not wallow in the times that my "normal" surrounds me for long periods of time.

Anniversary of sorts

It's been a year since I started my chemotherapy for stage 4 breast cancer, today. 12 months. At least I'm here to say that. I'm able to say my med team works very hard and looks at all possibilities for my treatment. My kids don't fully understand but they know mama is trying to be here for them.

Soon, I'll find out if I get a slightly longer break from treatment or if we're starting right back up again. I've still got a few friends that the longevity of my diagnosis hasn't chased off. They understand this isn't a one month, one year, one decade thing... I hope I get a decade or six.

I think that's one of the most annoying things (other than the cancer/treatment itself). Trying to explain to people that this is a lifetime thing, like my back/shoulder injury. I'm not being negative in saying that, and telling me I'll beat this isn't a positive response. I am thriving. I am living. I'm not curling up in a ball and stopping my life. I am giving cancer a middle finger and doing my best to have a life. And I have many reasons to: my husband, my kids, my friends both alive and gone, and especially because of a promise to one friend. He's gone but he was so scared when he heard of both my diagnoses. He knew what it was like growing up without his mother and it hit him in a different way than other friends. I promised him I'd stick around. I just wish he was he to see me keep it.