Extra! Extra! Read all about it!

 

Not sure how many of you know this.

I work for a church.

I create the screens that appear during service, I run sound and cameras and livestream. I absolutely love my job there.

It is spiritually fulfilling.

Yesterday was odd, because the congregation learned about my diagnosis. It was in the bulletin, in the prayers for the people, ‘Pray for Jackie.’

Like a little newsboy standing on a corner, hollering, “Extra, extra, read all about it!”

I debated on whether I wanted in there or not, but since I am there all the time, every Sunday I would think people would start to think something was up when I go bald.

My faith in the power of prayer is so great, I want all those voices calling out in prayer, but hey don’t forget others who needs it as well..

I kept it together. Our associate pastor wrote an amazing prayer for me at the service. I wanted to thank her, but I didn’t want to get emotional. I know, I know, tears are not a sign of weakness, but a part of me feels if I can fight them, that’s emotional strength training.

So my oncologist called me today. She had the results of my MRI. She started the conversation saying she had the results, but because her specialties are brain and breast cancer, she wanted to see the scans herself.

I was like, “Oh, gees what now.’

Apparently, unrelated to my cancer, I have a BENIGN small fluid tumor called a grade 1 Meningioma. It’s the size of a peppercorn, 4mm, and not on my brain but on the Menges.  Probably has been growing for years. She is not sure what she wants to do about, so she is consulting with her radiologist. She explained that it wouldn’t be surgery, but rather some sort of target radiation surgery that uses AI to zero in on it and blast the thing. Usually one and done. I don’t understand it, and honestly, I am tired of going down a rabbit hole with Google.

My writer mind kept thinking what if it isn’t a tumor, what if it is a place that all my characters and stories live and it grew because I have so many stories.

That is my update for today, thank you for following along. I love being able to share how I’m feeling. And today, I’m just a tad anxious.

But I am telling myself, ‘Step away from Google’! Algorithms already have my Facebook feed full of breast cancer stuff and wigs.

Talk the Talk

 

I went out today with my friend, Terri. She had things on her mind for me and we visited thrift stores. She knows how much I love the pool but at this point just am not allowed out there without protection, so we went shopping for some things, then went to lunch.

It was a good day.

I listened to her bitch about things and, honestly I loved it.

I also realized today I need to stop the car cancer talk. Not for me but for my daughter. Yes, I know I hid my health from them, carrying it myself but once the truth was out, it was all I talked about. When I picked my daughter up to take her to work today, I said, “I have been dealing with drama. This morning.” When I told her it was filmmaker drama, I saw the twinkle in her eye. Almost as if she was glad to not have to hear cancer talk.

I know in my heart my daughter doesn’t care what I talk about. But for me I need to find something to take the pressure off my kids.

Speaking of pressure and Terri.

Her ex has been dealing with a cancer journey of his own. He reached out to me and really wants to be there.

I told him I was going to have an appointment with one of the oncologists in the practice to get my medical marijuana card.

Now let’s establish, even though I hung out with that crowd, I wasn’t a drug person. It never interested me. But hey why not now? Right?

Terri shows up to pick me up and as I am coming down my apartment steps she is walking up.

Whispering as if the world can hear us, she hands me this small thing and says, “Hide this in your apartment. Go now.”

It was a ‘marijuana pen’ from her ex. A gift until I get what I need. How sweet was that? What made it funny was Terri was scared having it. As if the cops would zone in on her.

I told my son about it, he was like “Be careful. I have one.”

What the heck does that mean?

It was a good day.

Over the last 24 hours a lot of friends came out of the woodwork and were there to help.

I hope they all know I appreciate it. I told them, but I hope they know I meant it.

I have one week. One week free of doctor’s appointments, test, nurses and so forth. One week before everything comes down on me. More tests. The port, and finally treatment.

From the movie, ‘Greatest showman’ and song.

I am brave, I am bruised

I am who I'm meant to be, this is me.

Until tomorrow.

 

FEELING TODAY: Strong

MUSIC: This is me

GOAL: Enjoy the week!.

Logan or Soylent?

 How did I get it so wrong?

Okay so I think I am officially traumatized over my MRI experience, but I will get to that in a minute.

Before … I am overwhelmed with the outpour of love, concern and prayers for me. I mean it. The kindest words have been given to me and more than you realize, I take them to heart. I feel them, they move me, inspire me. I have a list.

Everyone that said, ‘I am here, let me know what I can do’. I will take you up on that. Even if it is to invite you over to have tea and talk.

I saw a classmate in the grocery store, I have known her since fifth grade, the concern in her eyes was real and the embrace she gave me was loving.

I will call her.

Look, I hate to bother anyone but my children and siblings, but they are going to get tired. My daughter Allie keeps driving me everywhere. Dealing with the truths of this horrible disease. I am in it for the long haul, and she and others will need a break.

So be forewarned, if you offered, I will take you up on it. I have that list.

Back to that damn MRI.

I am pretty tough, but like I said previously, I had no idea what I was getting into.

No music? Why?

They told me because I didn’t ask.

I said, “Dude, this is my first MRI, how the hell was I to know it wasn’t automatic.”

I remember putting that mask on, then backing up into the coffin, watching the ceiling art disappear.

Ah, the ceiling art. It was made to look like I was outdoors. Why do they do that when it disappears from sight the second you get sucked into the machine.

What was the purpose of the lovely calming scenario if you can’t see it once in the machine.

At first I made the VITAL error of calling it a scene from Logan’s Run.

But how, me, the apocalypse queen could make that mistake. It wasn’t Logan’s Run it was Soylent Green with my hero Charlton Heston.

The part where elderly watching beautiful visions of the end as they are put to eternal rest.

That’s what I felt when they rolled me in the machine and when I came out.

I got a lot of advice about the next MRI and I am gonna take it.

Getting drunk before hand is probably out of the question.

Maybe I’ll try the weed.

Oh, I have an appointment with a doctor via video to get a medical marijuana card. It’s important to note, I never was a stoner. Drugs were never a thing for me. But hey at this point in my journey, why not?

I think the funniest part of this week was when I went to the oncologist and the social worker came in to discuss finances and ability to pay. She was so impressed that I found, filled out and brought the special Pennsylvania Breast Cancer insurance forms. But she looked at my daughter and told her to ‘Google’ things, because people our age, she said aren’t good with technology. She was cute, I let her go on about elderly and tech, and didn’t tell her people come to me for answers.

Wow. Longer blog than I expected.

Today was a good day. No doctors, no tests, just a normal day. Every day is a day with worrying. What will come next. Today was not that day.

What a gift.

I thank God for the strength and peace.

Tests, Tests, and more Tests

Enhertu.

Look it up. That is what they are aiming for to treat this disease. As long as my echocardiogram comes back good.

Since May 30, my hospital admittance, I have had like two days when I didn’t have to get up early and leave, go to work, or deal with medical.

I am now looking at a stretch of medical freedom. Next appointment June 30th.

I am scared to be tired, scared to say I am tired because it makes people worry. But this is exhausting and I have so much left to come.

I am going to start adding videos to this blog. Maybe when I head into procedures. I know, I know, I have said this before. I mean it though.

I have done a lot of research on this treatment and while the nurses and doctor were confident I won’t lose my hair, it’s gonna happen. Most women do or go 50% bald. 50%? Who wants to have missing patches of hair.

I’ll buzz it and wear a hat or wig.

I’m too old to worry about how I look.

Plus, I have seen Threads and The Day after too many times to want to look like a nuclear war survivor.

Today was my brain MRI. I really, really didn’t want one, especially after Ron (My kids dad) but my oncologist was like, “This is not an option’. Apparently my HER 2 disease often drops some mets on the brain. Great.

She said no worries it will all the same genetic make up that’s in my breast. The treatment will target it.

First ever MRI. No one told me about them. I am typically not a high anxiety person, but this made me crazy. No music, just a loud bunch of noises for twenty minutes, Click-click-bang-bang-buzz. Then another ten minutes with contrast.

If you ever have seen The Strain, I felt like Gus’ mother when she turned. When he put the helmet on his mother.  Then it was like they were rolling me into a coffin. My writer mind kept thinking, what if this is all an illusion and I am in a coffin or being cremated.

Side note. It’s time to watch The Strain again for the eighth time.

If I have to get another MRI, there’s gonna have to be another way. That was horrible.

I really hope my heart is okay. I want to do this treatment. It’s so promising., I have high blood pressure, so suffice to say I am nervous. But that echo comes on the 30^th.

On the good news front, I have been very creative lately.

I finished the ten book compilation which I hope to be out tomorrow, and I wrote a demented children’s book.

These past couple months of worrying, health issues, waiting for appointments have slowed my writing process and as I said, that in turn slowed my income to almost a halt.

A Go Fund me is out of the question. I can work for it. I’d rather earn it. That’s the reason for the compilation. The Children’s book will be a special link. It will be free and if you want you can do the ‘Buy me a Coffee’ thing, if not, I’m cool with giving it for free.

I am so looking forward to the week free of doctors and nurses. I am watching 3 of my grandkids tomorrow. I know, everyone says not to, my friends with best intentions, but I want to.

The ones I am watching can get their own drinks and soon enough, when I start treatment, I will be tired Nennie.

No, wait.

I’m gonna defy the odds. Mind over matter.

I won’t let this bring me down. Yeah, of course, there will be effects that are not fun, but many people push through and keep working, keep going.

I will.

 

FEELING TODAY: I’m alright

MUSIC: Fix you (Cover) Boyce Avenue

GOAL: Write. Name my newest book.

Hope, Faith and Fight

 I went to the oncologist today. I got answers.

I’ll be okay. There is a treatment plan.

Before I get into it.

Stage four is not a death sentence. Let’s establish that. Maybe in 1990 or even 2000 it was. That was long before gene targeted chemo came about.

Just to educate, because I know I needed educated. I was still in that 1988 mindset.

Stage 1 – Localized Tumor

Stage 2 – Tumor reached tissues and surrounding areas.

Stage 3 – Tumor spread to Lymph Nodes.

Stage 4 – Tumor spread to lymph nodes and decided to sprinkle itself all about the body.

I have a Hormonal Positive cancer. HER2+ Stage 4.

It sprinkled itself, and I don’t mean that lightly. Most of the places the mets (As they call them) are small. The positive outlook to this and yes there is a positive, is that it is hormonal. Many clinical trials have been done.

I asked the oncologist, “Are there any trials?”

To which she replied, “I am glad you asked.”

She proceeded to tell me about a clinical trial that started five years ago and it specific for my type of cancer. The way she described it to me is this therapy goes into the blood stream, divides up and targets those hormonal cancer cells. Hitting them, destroying them, shrinking them, eliminating them. I may be on this for a long while.

It’s important to note that she was positive. She never once mentioned a ‘Timeline’ or how long I had, she called it a disease, not cancer, that we had to get under control.

I go every three weeks. This isn’t as brutal as regular Chemo because it is hormonal gene specific. I have 60% chance of keeping my hair. My navigating nurse told me, thinner and shorter hair tend to not fall out. The weight is not pulling it. So she suggested I keep it short like it is now. (Michele if you’re reading this, we need to stay on top)

I’m still  gonna be ready for wigs. Funny ones too.

How am I? I’m fine. I feel relieved and positive. I physically felt a heaviness to my body before this appointment. That’s gone.

God has this. God has me.

He gave me a sign.

I work for a church and have to go in two days a week. Wednesday and Sunday.

They told me today that Day 1 and 2 of treatment I will feel fine. Day 3 and 4 I will not, but will start feeling better by day 5. Then two weeks of good and start all over again until after 4 treatments and my body gets used to it.

I then was told my Chemo would be on a Tuesday every time. Meaning I should feel fine Wednesday and Better by Sunday. How’s that for a sign. God wants me to show up for work!

Honestly, I am not doomed, nor do I feel it.

I’m a fighter and pledge to fight. For my family, friends and readers.

I don’t feel sick, I feel strong and I just ask keep the prayers coming. I believe they help and work!

 

No song today but I will say, I feel confident!

Preparing and Waiting

 So here we are. 48 hours from finding my fate of treatment. That is a heavy load to carry, emotionally. The worry is a lot. I’ve done a lot of praying and I know it is, what it is and nothing I can do to change the past on the future.

I wonder if Tuesday is the day I will cry about it. I haven’t yet. The tears I have shed have been tears of being touched by the outpour of love and support of others and the moments when I think about how I am never going to be able to afford the care to get well.

Hopefully, I’ll get approved for the supplement.

I don’t mean to be such a Debbie Downer, I am trying to keep these blogs hopeful and light, but I want everyone to know what I am feeling and going through.

Eventually I will do some video reels.

I don’t know what Tuesday will bring. I stopped checking my app to see if biopsy results are in. If they were I am sure I would google and put myself in a state. I’ll let the doctor tell me.

I am giving it to God to handle my fear of finding out that there’s nothing they can do.

My friend, Katie assured me there will be a plan of action. I pray that all the stories I hear about the advancement of treatments are true.

I know I’m rambling and rattling my emotions. I am sure these blogs will get more intense

Today was a good day. I mean it really was. I worked at the church and it was candidate Sunday. Meaning they found a permanent pastor and the mystery pastor came today to preach. This person was invigorating and the energy in the church was amazing.

Again, a goal. the New Pastor starts in July and I am so excited to work with them. I love having goals.

So many people have been so kind offering help. I plan on taking people up on that. I really do, so if you offered don’t be surprised if I call.

As for now, at the time of penning this … I need a nap!

 

FEELING TODAY: Worried but Good

MUSIC: Brave by Sara Bareilles

GOAL: Format the Broken Compilation

Best of the Breast

 

The countdown is on until I see my oncologist on Tuesday. A slew of situations and things she will say rush through my mind, most of them not good. I find myself googling far too much. This week was a  doozy.

PCP appointments, nurses coming to my home, and that rash that turned into a sore, then turned into a wound after the hospital got done digging in there, now has me going to wound care. Did I mention I have to wear a ridiculous compression bra 23/7. I get one hour off.

More cultures and tests this week. All of the results come in Tuesday.

Tuesday. Tuesday. Tuesday. UG. Like a monster truck commercial.

I will say this …. The doctor and nurses at wound care were the most encouraging and gave me success stories of women who were far worse than me.

What I have is more common than women know. They told me this, and I met a woman in a breast cancer support group (I’ll call her Martha) who posted pictures of her journey with the same thing.

I was glad to see her pictures before and after. Her journey was eight years ago.

I did decide that after all this, after treatments, like Martha I’m cutting off the girls. They were never really big and right now they serve no purpose. I don’t foresee anyone wanting to fondle them in the near future. Nor do I want them to.

I look for inspiration anywhere I can find it.

But I have to stop because I am driving myself nuts. So yesterday I started focusing heavily on creativity.

I finished a chapter in my newest book, whittling away skillfully toward an end. YAY.

I started putting together the compilation called, Broken: Ten Complete Novels of the End of the World.

And I wrote two songs.

Music has always been pretty easy for me, coming up with lyrics and a melody.

Laying down tracks as well. Heck, I won Best Music in three short films.

Working on the tracks to make them perfect and then my kids’ dad, Ron would totally redo it. I can’t really get upset about that, the one song he did, won best music in another film of mine.

Anyhow. I found a bible verses and used them to inspire the lyrics to each song. Used my keyboard to write the melody and rough chords then cheated … I uploaded my rough music and lyrics into a music AI app. Okay, okay, don’t hate me. I’m not releasing the songs. I did it so I could get an idea and give it to my son to play with and he can record. I live in an apartment, it’s not feasible at one in the morning to play music.

My grandson came into my room and yelled at me for using it. But it sounds cool.

And I did write the words and melody. I’m being creative. I’m focusing. More tonight as well.

But first…. time to turn the tater tots.

FEELING: Inspired and Creative
SONG: One of the new ones I wrote
GOALS: Finish the Compiliation