By sheer coincidence, I am writing my 200th post 18 months after being diagnosed with cancer. That December day seems so long ago. It was long ago, kind of. But it also feels like everything just happened a few days ago. And as I sit here in the Pro Shop, handing out towels and Lysol-ing rock climbing shoes, a small part of me feels like nothing ever happened, nothing changed. I know I have written this before, but the past year and a half feels like some sort of weird time-warp. It still blows my mind that I actually had cancer and that I am still getting chemotherapy.
I was going to write a book about it. I was going to write about how my mind was blown and my life was changed when I was diagnosed with cancer at age 20. I was going to combine my blog posts, journal entries, and personal reflections into some sort of strange memoir. I had a literary agent in New York who was willing to take my story and get it published. I was working on a title; I had my chapters figured out; I had someone to write the foreword; I had even started my text. And then I realized that I do not want to write my memoir-ish right now. I am not ready to try and sort through and explain my experiences and sum them up for a neat and tidy inspirational 250 pages. As much as I have changed and grown, and as much as I have learned about myself throughout all this, I am still weathering this storm. Yes, it has already been 18 months, but I still have six more. I need to be totally free of the drugs and the nausea and the constipation and the drugs for a little bit before I can step back and figure out the moral of all this. I do still want to eventually publish my blog and my story. These past nearly two months of communicating with the agent have reassured me that one day I will be able to publish this. Now would be a great time to do it, I realize that, but I can't commit myself to this project if my heart isn't in it yet. Also, I just finished classes. I need to be deadline-free for a bit. I desperately need to de-stress.
So I have been working at ye olde Pro Shop, doing my awesome internship thang (I'll have photos in the next issue!!), and I have been biking a lot. I am actually even trying to start running again, which is kind of fun. I hopped on the treadmill the other day, and to my surprise, did not die. OH! I almost completely forgot the most ridiculous thing that happened to me since I last blogged.
Nearly two and a half weeks ago, specifically, the night after I last blogged, I found out that my two-person apartment had a few extra occupants. And by a few, I mean a lot. And by occupants, I mean bed bugs. And by found out, I mean freaked out like woah. I had suspected for some time that there were bugs, but I had tried to ignore it and hoped the problem would disappear. Instead, it got worse. In short, I finally bailed on that infested hole of an apartment I lived in. I put up with the smoking neighbors, with the slanted floors, with the mice and the pigeons who roosted directly outside my window. I dealt with the grime and the cigarette burns in the carpet from the previous tenants. I had accepted that the curtains were broken and the landlord was not going to replace the two missing screens. But bed bugs I could not handle. Not when they were eating me and taking over, and especially not when my immune system was about to be knocked down by the chemo devil. To his very small credit, my landlord sent over an exterminator. The exterminator, however, only sprayed my bed and the baseboard in my bedroom, no where else, and he only did it once. Now, I'm not bug expert, but I did my research, and I know that is not enough to get rid of a bed bug problem. So I left. I, somehow, lucked out and found an apartment on craigslist directly below the one I am moving into in September. This place is huge... Hardwood floors, and bed bug-free. The shower is a little gross, but I can clean that. I am so much more comfortable knowing there aren't little brown bugs crawling over me and stealing my precious blood. So that was the unpleasant stressor of my past few weeks. Who knows what is next.
And that is my life. Long post, hooray! I hope everyone is enjoying their June so far and staying cool if you're in the oven that is Boston right now. Thank God for the sun though. Alright, stay happy and, as they say, don't let the bed bugs bite. Pax.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
If you give me a pint of lemon sorbet from Trader Joe's, I will eat the Entire Thing.
I swear, this stuff is like crack. Only cheaper ($1.99!) and much more delicious. I will be on a sugar high for the next 15 minutes before passing out on my couch. I am fine with that.
So I've been sitting here on my couch in my apartment, trying to figure out what to say about Jon Lester's no-hitter yesterday and Senator Kennedy's diagnosis with a brain tumor. There has been a ton of media coverage on both today in Boston, although Lester has been overshadowed by Kennedy. The two stories are nearly diametric opposites, and I am not sure how I feel about the extent and slant of the media coverage of either. Lester is being lauded for his amazing athletic achievements, which are all the more amazing because he is a cancer survivor! And he's only 24! And he beat cancer! The stories about Kennedy, meanwhile, are focusing on life expectancies and the treatability of his tumor. They are more like obituaries, highlighting Kennedy's achievements throughout his lifetime.
The more I think about it, the more I get uncomfortable with the stories about both men. It upsets me to watch and read the reactions to Kennedy's cancer diagnosis being played out by the media on a national scale. These reactions are typical of many people when they find out someone has cancer, and I find it jarring to see it all so publicized. "How long do they have?" is often the first question people want answered. Or, "How bad is it?" How depressing to think that most people automatically assume the worst. I am not saying Kennedy's tumor isn't awful. It is; I am really sorry for the senator and his family. I just hate that it seems like everyone is already preparing for his funeral.
The other side of this, as with Lester's case, is the amazement that people have when someone who had cancer accomplishes something outstanding. Lester pitched a no-hitter. Lance Armstrong won the Tour de France 7 times because he's ridiculous. This woman ran a marathon. That man sailed around the world. I feel as if there is almost an unconscious disbelief that someone can have cancer (gasp!), get over it, and move on with life. Those accomplishments are all amazing, but they are amazing for their own sakes, and not necessarily because the person had previously had cancer. I don't know. My emotions and thoughts are all muddled over this. I didn't mean to get off on such a tangent.
I did mean to talk about a few of the things that have happened in my life these past few weeks, but I fear that might be slightly hypocritical... Oh well, I'll do it anyway. This is still my b-log, after all. First and foremost, I finished school. Oh my God, am I relieved to be finished with this past year. Somehow, I ended up doing (fairly) well in my classes. Ironically, the class in which I had to ask for my first college essay extension was also my first college class in which I received a solid A. I didn't see that one coming. And now, I am a senior. I am a college senior. I still don't believe it, and I still get giddy when I think about it.
I am now also a photo intern at the Improper Bostonian, a fairly large and well-known magazine here in Boston. I actually got a summer internship for photography! That fact also still makes me giddy. I don't know how many other people applied for the internship (3? 50?), but for once my photos made the cut. It isn't hard news photography, but that is fine. I'm going to learn so much working with professionals and learning all about acquiring, editing, and publishing photographs for a magazine. Oh, and my own photos will hopefully even be published! Woooo! I am on my way, baby.
Otherwise, I have had a sore throat for about two weeks now. Oh well. I also go in tomorrow for my drugs. I am more prepared for this next week, so hopefully it won't be too bad. Thank you all again for putting up with my mildly incoherent rants. Hopefully someone's still reading here because I still plan on writing. Anyway, enjoy the rest of the week, and I'll think happy thoughts for you all tomorrow as my nurse shoots me up. Peace and delicious, delicious sorbet.
So I've been sitting here on my couch in my apartment, trying to figure out what to say about Jon Lester's no-hitter yesterday and Senator Kennedy's diagnosis with a brain tumor. There has been a ton of media coverage on both today in Boston, although Lester has been overshadowed by Kennedy. The two stories are nearly diametric opposites, and I am not sure how I feel about the extent and slant of the media coverage of either. Lester is being lauded for his amazing athletic achievements, which are all the more amazing because he is a cancer survivor! And he's only 24! And he beat cancer! The stories about Kennedy, meanwhile, are focusing on life expectancies and the treatability of his tumor. They are more like obituaries, highlighting Kennedy's achievements throughout his lifetime.
The more I think about it, the more I get uncomfortable with the stories about both men. It upsets me to watch and read the reactions to Kennedy's cancer diagnosis being played out by the media on a national scale. These reactions are typical of many people when they find out someone has cancer, and I find it jarring to see it all so publicized. "How long do they have?" is often the first question people want answered. Or, "How bad is it?" How depressing to think that most people automatically assume the worst. I am not saying Kennedy's tumor isn't awful. It is; I am really sorry for the senator and his family. I just hate that it seems like everyone is already preparing for his funeral.
The other side of this, as with Lester's case, is the amazement that people have when someone who had cancer accomplishes something outstanding. Lester pitched a no-hitter. Lance Armstrong won the Tour de France 7 times because he's ridiculous. This woman ran a marathon. That man sailed around the world. I feel as if there is almost an unconscious disbelief that someone can have cancer (gasp!), get over it, and move on with life. Those accomplishments are all amazing, but they are amazing for their own sakes, and not necessarily because the person had previously had cancer. I don't know. My emotions and thoughts are all muddled over this. I didn't mean to get off on such a tangent.
I did mean to talk about a few of the things that have happened in my life these past few weeks, but I fear that might be slightly hypocritical... Oh well, I'll do it anyway. This is still my b-log, after all. First and foremost, I finished school. Oh my God, am I relieved to be finished with this past year. Somehow, I ended up doing (fairly) well in my classes. Ironically, the class in which I had to ask for my first college essay extension was also my first college class in which I received a solid A. I didn't see that one coming. And now, I am a senior. I am a college senior. I still don't believe it, and I still get giddy when I think about it.
I am now also a photo intern at the Improper Bostonian, a fairly large and well-known magazine here in Boston. I actually got a summer internship for photography! That fact also still makes me giddy. I don't know how many other people applied for the internship (3? 50?), but for once my photos made the cut. It isn't hard news photography, but that is fine. I'm going to learn so much working with professionals and learning all about acquiring, editing, and publishing photographs for a magazine. Oh, and my own photos will hopefully even be published! Woooo! I am on my way, baby.
Otherwise, I have had a sore throat for about two weeks now. Oh well. I also go in tomorrow for my drugs. I am more prepared for this next week, so hopefully it won't be too bad. Thank you all again for putting up with my mildly incoherent rants. Hopefully someone's still reading here because I still plan on writing. Anyway, enjoy the rest of the week, and I'll think happy thoughts for you all tomorrow as my nurse shoots me up. Peace and delicious, delicious sorbet.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Is tomorrow really the last day of classes for this semester?
I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and there will still be six weeks left. I feel like I am just barely getting comfortable in my classes, and I couldn't tell you what I was supposed to have learned over the past three and a half months. I am also sorry I haven't blogged more. I have grown tremendously as a person this past semester, and I'm not sure how well that has come across in my blog posts. I cannot emphasize enough how difficult and rewarding this semester has been. You all have been privy to some of the bigger events and challenges I have faced, but you may not realize that not one day goes by where I don't think about cancer and what it has done/is doing to me.
To illustrate my point, sort of, I got my monthly chemo shot one week ago. When I started my maintenance therapy, I had no idea what it would be like. Last week was my fourth injection, as I only get them every four weeks, and they began in January. Way back in January, I was under the impression that the maintenance therapy was not going to affect me at all. I thought, wrongly, that this semester I could get back to being busy and working too hard. It wasn't until the end of March and beginning of April, when my body essentially mutinied, that I was forced to rethink and reorganize my expectations. Now, you may say, Caroline, in March, you had only had three injections, and even if they are only once a month, you are still getting deadly chemical drugs pumped into your system. It is understandable that you wouldn't know how you would react, and it is absurd that you expect yourself to be able to ignore the fact that you are still getting chemotherapy. And I would agree with you, now. But I was, I still am, so eager to move on from chemo and cancer that I ignored and even completely denied my limitations. All I wanted was to be a student; I didn't want to accept that I was still a patient.
I don't think I have written this yet this semester, but it needs to be noted: I started seeing a psychologist back in January, and we have met maybe six or seven times over the past three months. It was hard for me to enlist the help of a professional in trying to make sense of myself with cancer, but it has been probably the best thing for me. It has taken me a while to get comfortable with my doctor, but she is one of the primary catalysts in my realization that it is necessary and okay to accept my limitations. Haha, I think she was pretty happy when I told her I broke down and asked for that paper's extension. Sort of a, maybe there's hope for me after all, type of deal.
But like I said, I am still learning. I realized (maybe better to say that I accepted) the other day that I am no longer a student. I mean, technically, yes, but not really. The student mentality of invincibility and actions-without-consequences doesn't exist in me anymore. I almost died; I can break. And a few months ago, maybe even a few weeks ago, I wouldn't have been able to admit that. Even this past week I was forced to sigh and accept certain fun and unpleasant bodily reactions to chemo that I had previously tried to ignore. Briefly, I have been having some wicked intestinal issues in response to the drugs. Yes, it's gross, but that's what you get. The injection dehydrates and plugs me up, and yet the steroids I take make me want to eat All the Time. And while I want to eat All the Time, I was strangely craving mostly pizza, All the Time. Now, pizza is wonderful, but greasy cheese is probably not the best thing to eat when your organs could use a roto-rooter. So these past few days I have been trying to find some sort of balance between eating, drinking water and pooping, all while my stomach is contending with gut-wrenching cramps. Haha, it's awesome! And you wonder, I'm sure, how I thought I could just get on with my merry life.
But again, I am slowly learning and accepting and growing up, growing far beyond anyone I thought I would ever be. The best, or worst, part is that it's only (almost!!) May. I still have seven more months of this, but I think I will be able to handle them a little better than I have the past four. Thank you all for reading, and I will try and update with a bit more frequency during the summer because Internship?! Book deal?! Biking?! There are many things to share. Stay tuned, and stay in tune with yourself. Peace.
To illustrate my point, sort of, I got my monthly chemo shot one week ago. When I started my maintenance therapy, I had no idea what it would be like. Last week was my fourth injection, as I only get them every four weeks, and they began in January. Way back in January, I was under the impression that the maintenance therapy was not going to affect me at all. I thought, wrongly, that this semester I could get back to being busy and working too hard. It wasn't until the end of March and beginning of April, when my body essentially mutinied, that I was forced to rethink and reorganize my expectations. Now, you may say, Caroline, in March, you had only had three injections, and even if they are only once a month, you are still getting deadly chemical drugs pumped into your system. It is understandable that you wouldn't know how you would react, and it is absurd that you expect yourself to be able to ignore the fact that you are still getting chemotherapy. And I would agree with you, now. But I was, I still am, so eager to move on from chemo and cancer that I ignored and even completely denied my limitations. All I wanted was to be a student; I didn't want to accept that I was still a patient.
I don't think I have written this yet this semester, but it needs to be noted: I started seeing a psychologist back in January, and we have met maybe six or seven times over the past three months. It was hard for me to enlist the help of a professional in trying to make sense of myself with cancer, but it has been probably the best thing for me. It has taken me a while to get comfortable with my doctor, but she is one of the primary catalysts in my realization that it is necessary and okay to accept my limitations. Haha, I think she was pretty happy when I told her I broke down and asked for that paper's extension. Sort of a, maybe there's hope for me after all, type of deal.
But like I said, I am still learning. I realized (maybe better to say that I accepted) the other day that I am no longer a student. I mean, technically, yes, but not really. The student mentality of invincibility and actions-without-consequences doesn't exist in me anymore. I almost died; I can break. And a few months ago, maybe even a few weeks ago, I wouldn't have been able to admit that. Even this past week I was forced to sigh and accept certain fun and unpleasant bodily reactions to chemo that I had previously tried to ignore. Briefly, I have been having some wicked intestinal issues in response to the drugs. Yes, it's gross, but that's what you get. The injection dehydrates and plugs me up, and yet the steroids I take make me want to eat All the Time. And while I want to eat All the Time, I was strangely craving mostly pizza, All the Time. Now, pizza is wonderful, but greasy cheese is probably not the best thing to eat when your organs could use a roto-rooter. So these past few days I have been trying to find some sort of balance between eating, drinking water and pooping, all while my stomach is contending with gut-wrenching cramps. Haha, it's awesome! And you wonder, I'm sure, how I thought I could just get on with my merry life.
But again, I am slowly learning and accepting and growing up, growing far beyond anyone I thought I would ever be. The best, or worst, part is that it's only (almost!!) May. I still have seven more months of this, but I think I will be able to handle them a little better than I have the past four. Thank you all for reading, and I will try and update with a bit more frequency during the summer because Internship?! Book deal?! Biking?! There are many things to share. Stay tuned, and stay in tune with yourself. Peace.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Boston is a-bloom!
It has been a while since I've uploaded any of my mediocre nature photographs, so I thought I would brighten everyone's day and share what I've been shooting recently. I do have photos of people, some of which are pretty good, but I think I'll just stick to the pictorial photos on here. As my title suggests, spring has finally come to Boston. I haven't experienced a Boston spring in two years, and I forgot how beautiful the city becomes. There are tulip trees everywhere, and they are all bursting into pink and white flowers. The sun is shining, new grass is finding its way up, and everyone is outside, this weekend especially.
I went for a walk down Newbury Street (a popular street downtown with upscale shops and restaurants) earlier today, and it was jam-packed. I couldn't figure out why there were so many people, but then I started looking around: Most of the people were wearing or carrying Boston Marathon gear. Ah, that's right. The Boston Marathon is this Monday, and there are activities and conventions and conferences all weekend for the thousands of runners, many of whom are not from Boston. They are all wandering around, checking out the city before they have to run through it. There is also a Red Sox home game tonight, so a good half to three-quarters of everyone outside is wearing some peice of Red Sox gear. I saw one girl wearing a Sox jersey, hat and dangling logo earings. That right there is dedication. Oh and also: the Boston Bruins are trying to give the Montreal Canadiens a run for their money, and the sixth playoff game in the seven-game series is tonight in Boston. So there are a few people running around in Bruins gear. I think there is also a Celtics game tomorrow... Baseball, basketball, hockey, running, sun: spring fever has taken over, and I am so thankful to be here experiencing it. Not like a year ago when I wanted to come to Boston for the Marathon and was too sick to make it. Thanks, kidneys.
I have been doing pretty well. The way my schedule works, I only have five actual days of class left - BU finishes classes on May 2. I have a major photo project to do, as well as a big English paper, and then I only have to worry about finals. This year has gone by so quickly. The past eight months are a blur in my memory. Maybe one day someone will be able to explain to me how I did everything I did, but right now, I have no idea how I survived. It isn't over yet, either. My final final is three weeks from today. Once I ace that, then I can breathe. But I am still amazed that I have come this far. I can barely believe it, but I feel almost (knock on wood) healthy. I feel so much better than I did even a week ago. I am trying to start running again, finally, and I am back on my bike. I get my chemo again this coming Wednesday, which will leave me feeling unpleasant for about a week, but I can deal with it.
So that's it. Super busy, feeling good, feeling stressed; it all sounds about right. I hope you all can get out and enjoy the sunshine if you have it. Life, in general, just seems a little bit better when it is 70 degrees and sunny. Oh, and happy Patriot's Day. Peace.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
The sagas continue.
Oh, so many sagas. College student, young adult, cancer survivor, female, motivational speaker, coughing, musician, photographer, hungry... Pick your poison or pleasure. I like to think that no person is truly one-dimensional. We all have different sides, multiple stories and uncommon experiences. I am fortunate to be able to share some of my stories with anyone who cares to click on a link and start reading.
So as I was saying, the sagas. It kind of cracks me up how many different definitions there are of who I am, and yet I am still just one person. Yesterday and last night are great examples of that. I'll begin in the wee small hours of yesterday morning, when I went to bed. Now, I am really not a hardcore partier. I like small, informal gatherings with friends and food. But I am still a crazy college student! and every once in a while, I do stay out past my bedtime. Friday night was one of those nights. It wasn't even that crazy of a night; it was just late. But that's fine. We all need to relax and hang out sometimes. During the day yesterday, I met up with my fellow editors on the Brownstone Journal, BU's undergraduate research publication. We are finalizing our issue for this year, and right now that means editing 10 to 20 page research papers. Worth noting, perhaps, is that I am a bit of a nerd and (kind of...) enjoy copy editing. I will destroy your comma splice, if it kills you and me together. After our editing extravaganza, I had to book it to the Logan Airport Hilton hotel, where I was one of the featured performers/survivors at the Golf Ball, a benefit for brain-tumor research and the Jimmy Fund.
Over the course of about 90 minutes, I went from frazzled college student in frayed jeans, lugging my messenger bag, camera and guitar, to a young professional in a cocktail dress with heels. The Golf Ball itself was great. The auction raised a ton of money for the Jimmy Fund, the food was Amazing! and everyone was there to support the eradication of cancer, which, of course, was the best part of the whole evening. Oh yeah, and I guess I did okay with the whole guitar-sing-say a bit about myself thing. I am going to be a bit immodest right now but only because I think it's funny. I love defying people's expectations of me. I am not a terribly conspicuous person. I carry myself well when I want to, and I can hold an intelligent conversation if I need to. But I am not self-promoting, and I try to keep a low profile. I met a few people before I played, and I'm sure they all thought I was a nice girl, good story, etc. But then I got on stage, did my Caroline-thing and showed them that there is a lot more to me than meets the eye. I love being on stage. I love singing, and I love playing guitar. I also occasionally enjoy dressing up a bit. I was so happy to be able to combine all of those things in support of such a great cause. Yes, I am a cancer survivor, but I am so many other things as well. We all are. Every one of us who is fighting something, it doesn't matter what, cannot be typecast by that one fight. I think, I hope, last night I did my small part in illustrating how we all live our lives our own way, and it is pretty awesome.
I am still battling the cold-demon. I am still procrastinating on my stupid paper. I am still forcing myself to not go to every event in Boston to take photos because I need to focus on getting well right now. I still play guitar; I am still writing songs. And I am still surviving. Last night was one opportunity for me to help others find a way to survive as well, and I can only hope I will have more chances to advocate others' survivals. Life is so ridiculous. No one should have to miss out on any of the sagas that their lives have in store, no matter how difficult some of those sagas may be. So, as I've said before, I am fighting for survivorship now. Last night I guitared a bit and joked a bit and shared my story. This coming week, I am speaking to a women's health class at BU, and I am also going to be on a panel discussing "college and cancer" at a young-adult symposium downtown. Oh yeah, and I might finish my paper, maybe. The sagas continue, and I will continue to chronicle them. Enjoy this week, the last day of March and the beginning of April! Hooray. One month of school left. Peace.
oh, p.s. Once again, if you don't want to comment on the b-log but want to say hi or tell me I need to eat more red meat and less Starbucks iced chai, feel free to drop me an e-mail: cbridges86@gmail.com
So as I was saying, the sagas. It kind of cracks me up how many different definitions there are of who I am, and yet I am still just one person. Yesterday and last night are great examples of that. I'll begin in the wee small hours of yesterday morning, when I went to bed. Now, I am really not a hardcore partier. I like small, informal gatherings with friends and food. But I am still a crazy college student! and every once in a while, I do stay out past my bedtime. Friday night was one of those nights. It wasn't even that crazy of a night; it was just late. But that's fine. We all need to relax and hang out sometimes. During the day yesterday, I met up with my fellow editors on the Brownstone Journal, BU's undergraduate research publication. We are finalizing our issue for this year, and right now that means editing 10 to 20 page research papers. Worth noting, perhaps, is that I am a bit of a nerd and (kind of...) enjoy copy editing. I will destroy your comma splice, if it kills you and me together. After our editing extravaganza, I had to book it to the Logan Airport Hilton hotel, where I was one of the featured performers/survivors at the Golf Ball, a benefit for brain-tumor research and the Jimmy Fund.
Over the course of about 90 minutes, I went from frazzled college student in frayed jeans, lugging my messenger bag, camera and guitar, to a young professional in a cocktail dress with heels. The Golf Ball itself was great. The auction raised a ton of money for the Jimmy Fund, the food was Amazing! and everyone was there to support the eradication of cancer, which, of course, was the best part of the whole evening. Oh yeah, and I guess I did okay with the whole guitar-sing-say a bit about myself thing. I am going to be a bit immodest right now but only because I think it's funny. I love defying people's expectations of me. I am not a terribly conspicuous person. I carry myself well when I want to, and I can hold an intelligent conversation if I need to. But I am not self-promoting, and I try to keep a low profile. I met a few people before I played, and I'm sure they all thought I was a nice girl, good story, etc. But then I got on stage, did my Caroline-thing and showed them that there is a lot more to me than meets the eye. I love being on stage. I love singing, and I love playing guitar. I also occasionally enjoy dressing up a bit. I was so happy to be able to combine all of those things in support of such a great cause. Yes, I am a cancer survivor, but I am so many other things as well. We all are. Every one of us who is fighting something, it doesn't matter what, cannot be typecast by that one fight. I think, I hope, last night I did my small part in illustrating how we all live our lives our own way, and it is pretty awesome.
I am still battling the cold-demon. I am still procrastinating on my stupid paper. I am still forcing myself to not go to every event in Boston to take photos because I need to focus on getting well right now. I still play guitar; I am still writing songs. And I am still surviving. Last night was one opportunity for me to help others find a way to survive as well, and I can only hope I will have more chances to advocate others' survivals. Life is so ridiculous. No one should have to miss out on any of the sagas that their lives have in store, no matter how difficult some of those sagas may be. So, as I've said before, I am fighting for survivorship now. Last night I guitared a bit and joked a bit and shared my story. This coming week, I am speaking to a women's health class at BU, and I am also going to be on a panel discussing "college and cancer" at a young-adult symposium downtown. Oh yeah, and I might finish my paper, maybe. The sagas continue, and I will continue to chronicle them. Enjoy this week, the last day of March and the beginning of April! Hooray. One month of school left. Peace.
oh, p.s. Once again, if you don't want to comment on the b-log but want to say hi or tell me I need to eat more red meat and less Starbucks iced chai, feel free to drop me an e-mail: cbridges86@gmail.com
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Dear Lay's Sour Cream & Onion potato chips:
You are so bad for me, and yet, you are so delicious. I am not even hungry right now, but I can't help but eat you. Thank you for adding a little bit of hydrogenated sunshine to my otherwise unsaturated world.
In other news, I have had a mostly unpleasant past four weeks. Why is that, you ask? Well, I will tell you. Four weeks ago tomorrow, I received my monthly chemotherapy injection. At the same time, my doctor upped my pill-chemo just a little bit. Two days after my injection, I started to feel a bit under the weather. Six days after my injection, I got a fever and was certain I was going to kick my bucket as I was curled up in the fetal position under all my blankets and two sweaters. One week and two days after my injection, I found out that I tested positive for Influenza A. Hooray! Worth noting is when I was tested for the flu (a nasal flush. not as fun as it sounds), I found out my white cell count had plummeted. I was not neutropenic, but I was immuno-compromised to the point where I was advised to stay away from people and their germies. Also, and this conclusion I drew myself, I could not fight any viruses! I know this chemo stuff is supposed to make me all better for ever and ever, but, I swear, it is only making me sicker.
I have tried to stay away from ranting in my blog. There is nothing constructive about complaining, especially when it is to a general audience that probably doesn't want to hear another person's gripes and moans. That being said, this past month has been terrible, and today was sort of the tipping point. Also, this is my blog, and, snap, I do what I want. So today, I was forced to concede that I cannot do everything, and every once in a while I need to ask for help. Unfortunately, I don't have a whole lot of experience doing that, so I sort of mucked it up, which only made things worse in my mind. You may possibly be wondering what I am talking about. I am talking about how earlier this afternoon I asked one of my professors for an extension on a ten-page paper we have due this Thursday because I haven't been able to finish the damn thing on account of my being so sick and exhausted. I have never asked for an extension on a paper in college (that I know of, and my incompletes don't count). I absolutely did not want to do it now, but I know that if I had tried to finish the paper these past few days, I would have only exhausted and stressed myself out more, which probably would have made me sicker, which would have most likely been not a good idea. The worst part of all of this is that I didn't explain this to my professor. I just sort of walked into his office awkwardly, asked him for an extension, and when asked why, responded, "well... I've been really sick lately... and I'm going to the doctor's tomorrow and will be sicker for the next week or so... I just need until Tuesday." I felt like such an idiot, but I didn't want to explain everything to him. I don't want cancer and chemo to be my fall-back excuse. Chemotherapy is kind of a valid reason, I guess, for an extension, but I am proud. I don't want to admit when my treatment debilitates me. Anyway, who knows if he believed me or not. He granted me a week extension for the paper, which is ample time, but I still feel like an idiot. I seriously left his office and burst into tears, which I then had to wipe away because I needed to work on another assignment, and then I had to go to his class and take notes about shield laws for journalists.
In summation: chemo is the devil because it causes your immune system to crash, which in turn causes your body to pretty much have a constant cold (or flu), which in turn exhausts you, which, when added to the standard pressures of college and mounting pressures of the last six weeks of school, makes for a lot of stress and a long few weeks. Phew. And that is my rant. Thank you all so much for humoring me; I feel much better now. Well, mentally. I am still hacking up pleasant green goo. The good news is that it is almost Spring... It's so close I can taste it. Things can really only get better with the arrival of warmth and flowers and abundant sunshine. To everyone suffering with me through these long, wet and cold days, take heart: you are not alone, and these days are nearing their end. That is never all I have to say, but that is all I will say today. Peace.
In other news, I have had a mostly unpleasant past four weeks. Why is that, you ask? Well, I will tell you. Four weeks ago tomorrow, I received my monthly chemotherapy injection. At the same time, my doctor upped my pill-chemo just a little bit. Two days after my injection, I started to feel a bit under the weather. Six days after my injection, I got a fever and was certain I was going to kick my bucket as I was curled up in the fetal position under all my blankets and two sweaters. One week and two days after my injection, I found out that I tested positive for Influenza A. Hooray! Worth noting is when I was tested for the flu (a nasal flush. not as fun as it sounds), I found out my white cell count had plummeted. I was not neutropenic, but I was immuno-compromised to the point where I was advised to stay away from people and their germies. Also, and this conclusion I drew myself, I could not fight any viruses! I know this chemo stuff is supposed to make me all better for ever and ever, but, I swear, it is only making me sicker.
I have tried to stay away from ranting in my blog. There is nothing constructive about complaining, especially when it is to a general audience that probably doesn't want to hear another person's gripes and moans. That being said, this past month has been terrible, and today was sort of the tipping point. Also, this is my blog, and, snap, I do what I want. So today, I was forced to concede that I cannot do everything, and every once in a while I need to ask for help. Unfortunately, I don't have a whole lot of experience doing that, so I sort of mucked it up, which only made things worse in my mind. You may possibly be wondering what I am talking about. I am talking about how earlier this afternoon I asked one of my professors for an extension on a ten-page paper we have due this Thursday because I haven't been able to finish the damn thing on account of my being so sick and exhausted. I have never asked for an extension on a paper in college (that I know of, and my incompletes don't count). I absolutely did not want to do it now, but I know that if I had tried to finish the paper these past few days, I would have only exhausted and stressed myself out more, which probably would have made me sicker, which would have most likely been not a good idea. The worst part of all of this is that I didn't explain this to my professor. I just sort of walked into his office awkwardly, asked him for an extension, and when asked why, responded, "well... I've been really sick lately... and I'm going to the doctor's tomorrow and will be sicker for the next week or so... I just need until Tuesday." I felt like such an idiot, but I didn't want to explain everything to him. I don't want cancer and chemo to be my fall-back excuse. Chemotherapy is kind of a valid reason, I guess, for an extension, but I am proud. I don't want to admit when my treatment debilitates me. Anyway, who knows if he believed me or not. He granted me a week extension for the paper, which is ample time, but I still feel like an idiot. I seriously left his office and burst into tears, which I then had to wipe away because I needed to work on another assignment, and then I had to go to his class and take notes about shield laws for journalists.
In summation: chemo is the devil because it causes your immune system to crash, which in turn causes your body to pretty much have a constant cold (or flu), which in turn exhausts you, which, when added to the standard pressures of college and mounting pressures of the last six weeks of school, makes for a lot of stress and a long few weeks. Phew. And that is my rant. Thank you all so much for humoring me; I feel much better now. Well, mentally. I am still hacking up pleasant green goo. The good news is that it is almost Spring... It's so close I can taste it. Things can really only get better with the arrival of warmth and flowers and abundant sunshine. To everyone suffering with me through these long, wet and cold days, take heart: you are not alone, and these days are nearing their end. That is never all I have to say, but that is all I will say today. Peace.
Friday, February 29, 2008
How often does one get to blog on February 29?
Every four years, actually. I suppose it is exciting, but, quite frankly, I am looking forward to March.
I know I have been lax in updating this b-log. I have been super busy with school, and, medically, there hasn't been much to report. One of the things my mom always brought up when we were discussing my blog was, "What is your purpose in writing?" I've been thinking about that: My purpose used to be to share what my life was like living with cancer. I wanted people to know that it is scary, but it isn't unmanageable. Drugs, more drugs, oh, I suppose there were some drugs, but finally the cancer was Destroyed! So now what do I have to talk about? I am still getting a bit of treatment but neither frequently nor with the same degree of toxicity as my old stuff. Now, I am more concerned with passing my classes than clearing my chemo (although the former is proving to be a wee bit trickier...) Here's the thing though. I have a whole bunch of upcoming cancer-related activities. Well, more survivor-related activities. Ever since the Globe article came out, and even dating back to the BU Today piece, I have been in touch with various people and groups about becoming more active as a young-adult survivor.
I don't want to stop writing, especially as I do have a ton of things to do in the near future. So I am revising my purpose in blogging. My purpose is no longer only to share what it's like to be 20 and living with cancer, although there will still be some of that. Now, I want to write about what it's like to be a vocal survivor as I share my experiences with different groups of people.
First example: One week from today, I will be spending the weekend at my high school Culver Girls Academy, in Indiana. A while ago, I was contacted by the Dean of Girls who asked me if I would like to be the keynote speaker at the girls' school annual Celebration of Women Convention (CWC). I will be speaking about my experiences both at Culver and post-Culver, and I am sure my cancer experiences will play into that somehow. I am nervous to be speaking to these girls, some of whom were freshmen when I was a senior in CGA. The strange thing is, I am so much older than when I graduated from high school almost three years ago. If not in age, then definitely in maturity. College, in general, matures people, and I have had one hell of a college career so far. A lot of the women I graduated with are amazing and are doing wonderful and noteworthy things with themselves. Compared to many of my classmates, I am pretty average, but I am sure I will be able to find something compelling and (hopefully) snarky to share with the girls. I know I wouldn't have been asked back to speak if I hadn't had cancer, especially if I hadn't responded so positively to cancer, but that's fine.
Much of what I will be doing over the next few months stems not from my having had cancer but from my blogging about it and being so open about what I've gone through. I want to share my insight with others. I don't want to have gone through so much and then just relegate cancer to a distant past. There are no more leukemic cells hanging out in my marrow, but cancer will always be a part of me. So I am writing about it here; I wrote a piece for a Dana-Farber patient publication (to be printed in April); I am participating in a fund-raiser for Dana-Farber and brain tumor research (check out their Website!); I somehow find myself continuously photographing events for either Dana-Farber or, this coming Sunday, the American Cancer Society. Like I said, cancer is still a huge part of my life, but now I am focusing my energies outward instead of wholly inward. I think it is a natural and good progression. So stay tuned, because there will be many more updates and events and scary public speaking engagements.
Again, thank you so much for everyone who has and may still be reading this. Be safe, be happy, and enjoy your extra day of February. Spring is so close! Peace.
I know I have been lax in updating this b-log. I have been super busy with school, and, medically, there hasn't been much to report. One of the things my mom always brought up when we were discussing my blog was, "What is your purpose in writing?" I've been thinking about that: My purpose used to be to share what my life was like living with cancer. I wanted people to know that it is scary, but it isn't unmanageable. Drugs, more drugs, oh, I suppose there were some drugs, but finally the cancer was Destroyed! So now what do I have to talk about? I am still getting a bit of treatment but neither frequently nor with the same degree of toxicity as my old stuff. Now, I am more concerned with passing my classes than clearing my chemo (although the former is proving to be a wee bit trickier...) Here's the thing though. I have a whole bunch of upcoming cancer-related activities. Well, more survivor-related activities. Ever since the Globe article came out, and even dating back to the BU Today piece, I have been in touch with various people and groups about becoming more active as a young-adult survivor.
I don't want to stop writing, especially as I do have a ton of things to do in the near future. So I am revising my purpose in blogging. My purpose is no longer only to share what it's like to be 20 and living with cancer, although there will still be some of that. Now, I want to write about what it's like to be a vocal survivor as I share my experiences with different groups of people.
First example: One week from today, I will be spending the weekend at my high school Culver Girls Academy, in Indiana. A while ago, I was contacted by the Dean of Girls who asked me if I would like to be the keynote speaker at the girls' school annual Celebration of Women Convention (CWC). I will be speaking about my experiences both at Culver and post-Culver, and I am sure my cancer experiences will play into that somehow. I am nervous to be speaking to these girls, some of whom were freshmen when I was a senior in CGA. The strange thing is, I am so much older than when I graduated from high school almost three years ago. If not in age, then definitely in maturity. College, in general, matures people, and I have had one hell of a college career so far. A lot of the women I graduated with are amazing and are doing wonderful and noteworthy things with themselves. Compared to many of my classmates, I am pretty average, but I am sure I will be able to find something compelling and (hopefully) snarky to share with the girls. I know I wouldn't have been asked back to speak if I hadn't had cancer, especially if I hadn't responded so positively to cancer, but that's fine.
Much of what I will be doing over the next few months stems not from my having had cancer but from my blogging about it and being so open about what I've gone through. I want to share my insight with others. I don't want to have gone through so much and then just relegate cancer to a distant past. There are no more leukemic cells hanging out in my marrow, but cancer will always be a part of me. So I am writing about it here; I wrote a piece for a Dana-Farber patient publication (to be printed in April); I am participating in a fund-raiser for Dana-Farber and brain tumor research (check out their Website!); I somehow find myself continuously photographing events for either Dana-Farber or, this coming Sunday, the American Cancer Society. Like I said, cancer is still a huge part of my life, but now I am focusing my energies outward instead of wholly inward. I think it is a natural and good progression. So stay tuned, because there will be many more updates and events and scary public speaking engagements.
Again, thank you so much for everyone who has and may still be reading this. Be safe, be happy, and enjoy your extra day of February. Spring is so close! Peace.
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