Sox home opener!

And sadly, I was admitted to the hospital. Although, the Sox were whomped by the Cleveland Indians, so really, maybe I didn't have it so bad after all. Checking in to the hospital is always an adventure. I have certainly seen some interesting people in both the reception room and the lobby. I guess that's natural, considering this is a major hospital in a major city. I know there were certainly a few questionable characters at the BU Med Center, but considering its location in Boston, again, to be expected. So I was admitted and directed to a room. Now, this room is on the same floor and in the same wing as I have become accustomed to. It is, however, on the other side of the hallway. Instead of facing downtown Chicago, I now face... another hospital wing! Complete with beds and curtains and even people. People who wear hospital gowns. People who don't adequately tie the back of said gown. People who walk around their rooms, backs to the window, oblivious of open curtains and aghast onlookers. But as my mom kindly reminded me, "If you can see them, they can see you." So I guess henceforth I will be changing in the bathroom, and no more midday dance breaks. Oh well. Maybe I'll make a window buddy with some lonely across-the-way cancer patient. Probably not. Other than that, my room is huge-normous. (Yes, that's right. I said it.) All the rooms on this side of the wing used to be doubles, but they were recently converted to singles. So there is lots of space, as well as a computer, which I don't really need anyway. But that's cool.

Oh, and also: A while back, I wrote about how one weekend I was hit with a barrage of nurses, one of whom was named Olga. Well, it turned out that Olga lived up to no one's expectations in that she was very pretty, very nice, and Colombian. She was also very well-traveled. But this story isn't about Olga. It is about my nurse for tonight. Her name is Anna. She is slightly rumpled, slightly stocky, and very Eastern European. In essence, she is everything you would expect from an Olga, despite being named Anna. This woman is ridiculous though. She just came in after one sharp, brief knock on my door and said, "Miss Britches, I have your stool-soffener here." To which I replied, rather surprised, "Oh no, I don't need that at all. I'm totally fine down there." Which caused her to reply, "You may be fine now, but this acts in the future for you as well." I said that I absolutely didn't need the pill (because I really don't), and I would much rather not take it, but thank you very much. So she said, "Hokay," took off her yellow gown and tight blue latex gloves, threw out the pill and left, without so much as a by-your-leave. But I know she'll be back every four hours to check my pulse with her iron-grip and to be reassured that "really, I'm fine. But thank you." And that's day One of my hospital stay. I doubt the rest of my days here will top today's excitement, but I'm not making any bets. Anything could happen in this crazy hematology/oncology wing. Oh, I also have a promising update regarding my return to Boston in the fall, but that will have to wait for another day. For now, Peace out. p.s. wish me luck tomorrow as I get an exorbitant and sickening (literally) amount of chemo pumped into me. Woo!!!

Phew!

Well, it has been an exciting and eventful past few days. Last update was Thursday... Thursday evening, well, I finally found the courage to sit on a stool in front of about ten people, all under the age of maybe 18, and play two of my songs. That's right, I went to an open mic. It's funny: I can have holes drilled into my back and have chemicals pumped into my body no sweat. I just can't sing in front of people. I guess it went OK... I dropped my pick midway through my second song, but I just kept strumming away with my finger. So now I guess the next thing to do is go to another open mic. And not drop my pick. I'm sure the more I sing in front of people, the more comfortable I will become with it. So that was Thursday. Friday, I worked again at the Arboretum; more price-tagging, more fun times. And then Saturday was the really exciting day for me. I went to a concert! It was a benefit for a foundation called Ustorm. Basically, it was like a jam band Super group. There were at least 10 musicians playing together from various jam bands. It was absolutely fantastic. And as an added personal bonus, I got multiple compliments on my knitted hat. I was also somewhat creepily hit on by a guy who looked about 30, but I shifted away from him to dance with someone closer to my age. So I'm not invisible after all! At least to guys who have been drinking steadily for at least the past four hours... Eh.

But anyway, so that was my weekend. I apologize for really not having any cancer updates. I've been feeling great. Oh, I guess I overheated during the concert, which probably wouldn't have happened otherwise... It was pretty hot and crowded, but I got some water and was much better. And now I am just spending today eating and resting. Tomorrow, I go back in to the hospital. I am not looking forward to it, but at least I have some good memories to take with me. I also have the prospect of Boston in Less Than Two Weeks! Woo! Haha, so I'm happy. As always, peace out.

so..... full........

Today, for the first time ever, I ordered a burrito from Chipotle. Usually I just get my happy little chicken tacos. But today I decided, "No, I am deliriously hungry. I need a burrito." Little did I know what was in store for me. I took my first bite roughly forty-five minutes ago. I still have a good two inches to go. The first bite was delicious! Rice and beans and spicy green salsa and grilled chicken and guacamole... Mmm. The second bite was just as good. I continued to slowly eat said burrito until it was about three-fourths of the way finished. At about that point, I started feeling full. Like, extremely full. Like, I just put a Lot of burrito in my belly, full. And I wasn't even finished yet! I'm still not finished. But eventually the burrito will be wholly consumed, and I will go lie down while resolving not to eat again for the next day or two. And so that's what's exciting in my life.

Actually though, today has been quite busy for me. I started my volunteer work at the Arboretum (the tree place). It was just stock-room work; specifically, I was price-tagging t-shirts. But I was doing something, and it was out of my house. There was also another student working there, so it was nice to have someone to talk to. Who knows, maybe I'll make a (gasp!) friend. Although he said he thinks he might be getting bronchitis, so I may have to destroy him... It was fun though. He asked me about my cancer too, which threw me for a loop at first. He said he was just curious what it was like, as he hadn't ever known anyone with cancer. It's kind of funny: when something like this happens to you, especially when you're right in the throes of it, you feel very different from your peers and almost segregated from everybody. It may just be mental, but it's not just me. The other young adults in my weekly group sessions agreed with me when I said that often I feel invisible to other people. Or at the very least, you feel different. So it was nice to talk to someone about it who really was just curious. I didn't get any pity or sympathy vibes from him. Part of it, I'm sure, is that he was sitting across from me. He could see that I look normal, that I talk normally, and that there is nothing inhibiting my daily funtions. I was just another college student who could have been in his class. I just happen to also have a life-threatening disease. Mehh.

And finally, once again, BU Today has flattered me immensely by doing a special little bit about the (b)log. If you are so inclined, you can check out their very kind words HERE. Super exciting stuff. And that's about it. Once again, I may or may not balls up and go to an open mic tonight. I think I'm going to go. I just have to make myself. Sigh, I wish I had a buddy for this... But oh well, we'll see what happens. Thank God it's almost Friday! Peace peeps.

DUCK!

This could quite possibly be one of my favorite pictures ever. It's too bad I panicked when he started flying and didn't quite get the whole body. Check out the eyes though. And the middle pigeon. I just see him saying, "coocoo, I'm fat and pompous, coocoo, pigeons don't fly fool, coocoo." Or something similar at least. To see this and more photos from downtown Chicago, check out the whole album at http://picasaweb.google.com/Justmec2131. Ah, shameless advertising. Nothing better.

Exciting day! Kind of

I spent much of this beautiful day walking around downtown Chicago. I'm really starting to learn my way around the place. It was about 80 degrees outside, sunny, brisk southwest winds, lots of photo ops, what more could one ask for? Oh, I know, how about not having a piece of sterile plastic covering a patch of my chest. For those of you who have never experienced such a bandage, allow me, please, to share a few things. First of all, these coverings don't exactly "breathe." That would defeat their purpose, which is to keep air and dirt and other little bacteria floating around from reaching the hole where my catheter sticks out. Secondly, our bodies naturally perspire when we are hot. Sweat is our cooling mechanism. Now, I have already noted that it was hot here today, and I was doing a lot of walking. So naturally, I perspired some. Enough that I started having a small problem with my bandage. The sweat builds up with nowhere to go, which in turn causes a reaction on my part where my skin turns red and itchy. Worth noting, however, is that I have a reaction anyway to the bandages the hospital puts on. So I didn't pay much attention to the itching, as it has been itchy for the past few days. So blah blah blah, day goes on, more wandering around. Finally, I'm sitting in Union Station (the train station) waiting for my train home. I decide to take a peek at my happy little catheter site. And lo and behold, when I look down, the damn thing is oozing. "Oozing what?", you ask? I am afraid I don't know what; it just was. And it had oozed down the line and out my bandage. There was actually a very small amount of ooze on my shirt. Gross. And scary since ooze usually means there's an infection, which would pretty much be the absolute worst thing ever -- no hyperbole necessary. So it's oozy and itchy, and I'm freaking out because I don't know what to do. I call my home care nurse, the woman who usually comes to change the dressing for me, and tell her my predicament. Her advice to me is to change the dressing. Since I was perspiring and the hole was oozing, there is moisture underneath the bandage. With nowhere to go, that moisture can only do bad things to me. I needed to get rid of the moisture, as well as the dried ooze. Okay so long story short (hahahaha), I end up changing my own dressing. There were a few slight mishaps, but I think I did okay. My site still itches, but at least now it is disinfected. And hopefully my nurse will come tomorrow and tell me if I am going to die or not. Or at least whether or not I should call my doctor about this.

And that is today's -- very long -- story. I'm hoping everything will turn out alright, but I'm still a bit nervous. Other than that, though, today was great! I'll be putting up pictures soon of my jaunt through the city. Well, as they say in the Vatican, Pax. (insert Pope Benedict giving you the deuces. word.)

Okay, so this actually is a funny story.

I went shopping with my mom today. The weather was beautiful outside, and we decided to spend a good portion of the day rifling through overpriced and over-handled product, along with hundreds of other jaded suburbanites. But I digress. So we were in Target, specifically at the shoe section. There were lots of shoes, some notable, others not so much, so I wasn't paying much attention to what was going on around me. I do remember there were background voices, but I wasn't listening to what they were saying. And then, just as I picked up a decent-looking heeled-sandal, I heard, "I bet she shaved her head," followed by, "No, I bet she just has short hair." I put the sandal back on its little rack and turned around. Right behind me, sitting in a red, plastic Target cart, were two small girls, aged roughly five and seven -- parent nowhere in sight. They were both staring right at me, although their discussion stopped when I looked at them. I just started laughing, which in turn caused them to start laughing. I didn't say anything, because really, what would I say to two small children who are considering why I'm wearing a beanie and there's no hair coming out from under it? Sorry guys, you're both wrong; I'm actually on drugs? So I just laughed. And then I walked away. And then I started wondering why two cute little girls would have even noticed my hair situation, much less thought that I shaved my head. And then I remembered the Media and certain recent debacles involving one former pop-star turned rehab junkie. I am, of course, referring to Britney Spears. She is a household name; of course these girls would know who she is. And we all know the Media has exhausted their coverage of Ms. Spears and her last-resort call for attention via head shaving. Which explains why the girls would 1: have noticed my not-hair and 2: not be phased by my apparent decision to shave my head. So, in summation, today's youth are having their innocence and naivete stripped from them by the exorbitant amount of sensationalism in the Media. Nothing is sacred anymore, and everything is fair game for vocal, public discussion, even by seven-year old girls.

Also, I saw the new Barbies in Target. They are disappointingly ugly. Otherwise, I felt great today, and tomorrow, I'm heading downtown. Should be a good time! Peace.

Has it been three days?

I always feel a little sad when I see no new comments on my posts. Just a little. I have, once again, returned home from the hospital. Apparently I'm stellar and cleared the chemo faster than the doctors expected, so they sent me home yesterday. I'm still waiting for my ears to stop ringing. One of the things about the hospital is that it is never quiet. I am hooked up to a hydration pump the entire time I'm there, which is loud. But there are also nurses and air vents and carts and people crying out in pain during their biopsies... I always come home and am shocked by how quiet my house is. Right now, for instance, there are no sounds in my house. Okay, my fridge just turned on, but that's about it. So my ears are taking their sweet time in readjusting to the lack of sound.

Speaking of ringing, I went for a bike ride yesterday, and some seriously funky things happened to my head. My ears felt like they were blocked (similar to when an airplane takes off), my hearing became messed up, and I felt a really strange pressure in my head. My theory is that this was all due to the fact that my blood counts are still substantially low. My red blood cell counts are hanging around 9.5, with the normal being around 15. So, I guess there wasn't enough oxygen reaching my brain when I was biking. I don't think it's necessarily damaging, but maybe I'll hold off on the extreme cardio activity for a while. I still don't understand how I lived like this for a good part of last semester. I guess I'm lucky I didn't pass out in the middle of the street or something.

And finally, in an unprecedented turn of events, in which my body has essentially given cancer and chemotherapy the finger, my hair has started to grow back. Yes, that's right. Even though my body is in the throes of chemical destruction, my hair follicles have decided to cut their own path and strengthen up, allowing hair to grow back. (Chemo causes hair loss because it actually weakens hair follicles.) So now my head is fuzzy. I am excited. That is all. Have a good weekend! Pax.