A Different Body Image

Three months ago I was sitting poolside in Las Vegas.  As I looked around at the younger and more rowdy crowds, I couldn't help but compare and criticize.  My breasts were too small.  My thighs were too big.  My skin was too pasty.  My varicose veins were unsightly.  My arms were not toned enough.  My entire body image was based on my outer physical characteristics.

But then, I woke up the other morning and my husband had to basically carry me out of bed.  My legs were just too heavy and weak from the chemo and the daily injections to walk on my own.  It was at that moment that I couldn't help but wish that my biggest issues with my body were the size of my breasts and thighs. 

Before, a "good" body day was when my jeans fit just right or when a blouse made me look sexy.  Today, a "good" body day is when I can stand on my own long enough to shower or when I go an entire day without a headache.  It's funny how something so important can be taken for granted for so long.  And how what once used to be so important can seem so trivial.

My body image is no longer based on how I look, but more importantly, how I feel.  I have such a greater appreciation for my body and health-because I now know more than ever, that without these two things, nothing else really matters.

Round 2-Take 2

When my oncologist called on Monday evening and said that there was a possibility that I could go forward with round 2 on Tuesday, I was as giddy as a little kid on Christmas Eve.  And as we drove to the hospital that night to get my blood tested, it was as if we were taking a road trip to Vegas!  I mean, nobody could have been more excited than this guy to get another dose of the chemo cocktail....

And then Tuesday night came.  What the h-e-double hockey sticks was I thinking being so excited for this?!  The all-too familiar side effects came back in full force.  Nausea.  Fatigue.  Weakness.  Body aches.  Fever.  Metal taste in my mouth.  Metal smell of my skin (yes, I can literally smell the poison through my skin!)  BUT-the one side effect that didn't come back??  Hair loss!  That's right, turns out you can't lose something you've already lost!  Point-Sheyanne!

This time we're doing things a little differently.  In order to prevent my white blood cells from getting so low, I have to get injections at home for nine days straight.  I survived the first two shots, but man does that medicine pack quite the punch!  I also have to get my blood drawn three times next week.  Which means, I'm going to need donations.  Just kidding- but seriously, it feels like I may run out soon! ;)

I think a card that I got from one of my friends sums it up best:

"Chemo Sucks.  But if it sucks the cancer right out of me, then
'Yay, chemo!!!'"

Cheers to another round!

Two Steps Forward....One Step Back (But Not Out!)

• Survive my first round of chemo....Check
• Survive a week of having to stay inside....Check
• Survive a week of a really strict diet....Check
• Survive shaving my head....Check
• Survive my first public outing with a bald head....Double Check (and rockin' it!)
• Ready for Chemo Round 2....Check....or so I thought...

Yesterday was a fantastic day!  I felt great.  I felt strong.  I felt empowered.  And when I left my house for the first time with my bald head, I actually felt proud!  Sure, I could see people staring at me out of the corner of their eyes.  But nothing could take away the smile from my face.  The nurse who took my blood looked surprised when I told him I was fantastic! after he asked how I was doing.  In fact, he said, "you are a little too happy to be here!"  But that's just because he doesn't know me and my spirit!

When I met with my oncologist, I was excited to see him.  He too was a little surprised to see how happy I was.  Before he performed each test (feeling my throat, under my arms, my breathing, etc.) I provided him with my diagnosis, telling him "Oh, I know my lungs are great!" and "don't worry no swollen lymph nodes in my throat!"  He just laughed and confirmed what I already knew-that everything else was great!

And everything else was great...until I got the call at around 5:00 p.m.  You see, before each round of chemo, my blood levels have to be at a certain level to make sure my body is strong enough to take some more of the cocktail.  The normal range for white blood cells?  4,300 to 10,000.  My targeted range?  1,500.  My actual count?  500!  "Dangerously low" is what I was told. 

So what does this mean?  I have to get home injections for 3 days to try to raise my white blood cell count.  I have to remain in the house through at least the end of the week.  Strick eating diet.  And chemo round 2 is postponed until next Thursday (assuming my levels are high enough). 

Of course I am extremely disappointed and a little scared.  I was so physically and mentally ready to start killing more cancer cells today.  But not even this can take the smile off my face for too long.  I mean, just think about it- if the chemo can do that to my good, strong cells, imagine what one dose has already done to the bad cancer cells!

Shey





    

Nothing Could Have Prepared Me For This

Be prepared!  That's what we're taught from an early age.  Always be prepared.  So that's what I've always done.  I prepared for school.  I prepared for work.  I prepared for marriage.  I've always been (or at least tried to be) prepared. 

But nothing could have prepared me for tonight.  While others were watching the All-Star game, my husband was shaving my head....shaving my head!  I knew this time would come.  I knew my hair would fall out.  My doctors told me it would.  I read it in books.  I knew others who had gone through chemo had their hair fall out. 

So like I've always done, I had been "preparing" for weeks.  I practiced covering my head with scarves.  I practiced pulling my hair back real tight.  I bought a floppy hat.  I bought a wig.  I was absolutely prepared to lose my hair.  But as it turns out, I was not prepared at all.  In fact, nothing could have prepared me for tonight. 

As my husband took the razor to my head, I couldn't help but cry.  And when I looked into the mirror for the first time, I cried even more.  For the past few weeks, my cancer was a secret to the outside world.  When I went to the store or the bank or the mall, nobody knew I had cancer.  But now, as a woman with a bald head, I know I cannot keep the secret any longer.  To me, and the rest of the world, a bald head is the universal sign of cancer.  I know now that anywhere I go, people will look at me and know I have cancer. 

And then my husband looked at me with a straight face and said, "I'm not going to lie baby, you look pretty bad a$$."  Followed by, "Seriously, you've got the Sinead O'Connor thing going on.  And I used to have a crush on her when I was growing up."  I couldn't help but bust up laughing.  And the laughing hasn't stopped since.  That was exactly what I needed. 

So friends, here I am.  No make-up.  No hair.  And soon to be no cancer.  And most importantly, I still have a smile on my face.  And that smile will remain there throughout the rest of my journey.   

A friend recently told me that since the beginning of time, men have been encouraged to get and look fierce when they go to war.  They shave their heads.  They paint their faces.  My war is no different.  That's why starting today and from this point forward, I have my game face on.  I am fierce and ready to battle.  I WILL win this war!

Shey
 

   

It Takes a Village....Lucky for Me, I Live in the Best One!

Our Team T-shirt

For the past five years I have organized and rallied a team for the Susan G. Komen, Race for the Cure Event.  "The Breast Defense."  That's our team name.  "Prepare. Defend. Prevail."  That's our team's motto. 

This year is no exception. The Breast Defense is officially registered for our sixth annual participation in the Race for the Cure Event.  The only difference this year is that the fight hits a little closer to home. 

I'm not exactly sure why I chose this event in the first place.   Or why I became so passionate in the fight against breast cancer.   You can call it a coincidence.  You can call it fate.  But I'm hoping it's simply a case of paying it forward!  And, to be honest, I always secretly coveted the special pink race shirts--the ones reserved for the breast cancer survivors!  Next year, that special shirt will have my name written all over it!

Last week I bought a Susan G. Komen breast cancer flag and ceramic breast cancer ribbon and placed it in my front yard.  It was kind of my way of telling the world, "Yes, I've been struck with breast cancer, but I'm going to fight and win the battle!" 

A few days later, I came home to find that my friend across the street also had a flag in her front yard.  The following day, my friend next door had a flag in her front yard.  And then the most amazing thing happened.  I walked outside my house this week to find that every single house on my block (with the exception of 2) had a Susan G. Komen flag in their front yard!  The message it sent was deafening....it was as if I could hear each and every one of my friends say, "We support you, Sheyanne.  And we are here to support you in your fight!"   





Several of my friends' houses with Susan G. Komen Flags

They say it takes a village to raise a child.  I say, it takes a village to fight and beat cancer.  And I thank God every day for the village I am blessed to live in and the friends I am blessed to work with.  Every single day my friends deliver something special to remind me that they are fighting with me.  From the dinners, to the desserts, to the cards, pictures, books, candy, flowers and plants.  It truly is unbelievable. 

Just a few of the cards and flowers I have received!

So thank you friends for your incredible support!  You have touched my life in a way I never could have imagined.  I can't wait to celebrate after we beat this!!

Shey  

Messing With My Hair is One Thing..Messing With My Food is Another!

Anyone who knows me (or has been around me for any length of time) knows I love to eat!  I absolutely love to eat!  Actually, I think I'm obsessed with it.  When I'm eating breakfast, I'm planning lunch.  When I'm eating lunch, I'm planning dinner.  It's really all I think about, all day long.  And the food I eat can literally make or break my day. 

Fad diets?  Nope!  Any type of diet?  Never!  And for great reason--I love to eat!  There has never been a piece of dessert (especially chocolate) or fatty, deep fried food that I haven't liked.  Low fat food?   Crazy!   Sugar-free?  You're wasting my time.  In fact, I used to secretly laugh at the super-healthy people; you know, the all-natural, everything organic "Trader Joes only" people. 

Boy how things have changed.  Yesterday, I found myself in Trader Joes pushing a cart filled with unsalted nuts, organic, sugar-free soy milk, green tea and organic, wheat pasta.  WHAT THE!?!?!  All of a sudden, it was like the word "organic" was code for "cancer beater", and Trader Joes was the place that would save my life. 

Needless to say, there was no smile on my face as I unpacked my groceries.  The fact that I'm not supposed to eat any kind of sugar is an absolute tragedy!  Taking away my hair is one thing.  But messing with my food is another! 

They say you go through phases during the cancer process.  Shock.  Despair.  Confusion.  And eventually anger.  Well friends, I am officially angry!  Not because I have cancer.  But because cancer has messed with my all time favorite activity-eating! 

If you had any doubt that I wouldn't fight this cancer with everything I had -doubt no more.  This cancer is going down because I can already taste the double-double, french fries and chocolate shake waiting for me at the end of the finish line!

Shey