Ring the bell

I am done with chemo! Done, done, done! 

"Ring this bell

Three times well

A toll to clearly say

This treatment's done

My course is run

And I am on my way"

Sure, by tomorrow I will be feeling crappy and sure, I'll miss out on a beautiful weekend, and sure, it'll be another 10days before coffee tastes good again, and sure, I still have two surgeries* to complete... but hey--I AM DONE! No more chemo!

This is big, right? There have been moments on this journey--heck a lot of moments--when it just didn't feel real. Right now it feels a bit like a movie. Like it's not happening to me. I am fine, I am healthy, I don't have cancer, what is happening?! But then I tell myself it is real. This is real. It isn't a stunt, it's not a movie, this is actually my life. How did that happen? (Don't answer that. I know: BRCA.)

Back in the fall, before the diagnosis, I had dinner with two of my closest friends. I was telling them that I was going to have a mammogram and how I wasn't worried, just routine, cancer was my mom's story, it isn't mine. (Are you cringing because you know how that ended?!) The truth is, her story has always been my story. Her cancer -- and subsequent death -- is a defining chapter in my life. Finding out I had the BRCA mutation, that my mom likely had the BRCA mutation, was freeing. It explained this awful thing that happened to me. Not my cancer, my mom's cancer. If I had to have cancer myself to find that out, so be it. 

A colleague asked me the other day if I had connected with other survivors. "No," I quickly said. And then I stumbled to say why not. I hadn't thought about why not! (Why hadn't I thought about it?!) So I gave a rambling explanation that focused on these three things, all true:

--My prognosis was always excellent.

--I'm HAPPY and in a great place emotionally to handle a crisis.

--I have an awesome support network. (Thank you, village!)

But the most truthful answer, the one I just now figured out, on this last day of chemotherapy, is this: I have already survived cancer. It made me who I am. I've got 32 years of survivorship! I've GOT this. 

Suck it, chemo. 

*Two more surgeries: one to get my new boobs, one to remove my ovaries. Addition, subtraction. 

Sewing and other things

It's been a while! Time for an update. I've managed to sew a fair amount over the past month, but I've not taken any good photos. Do bad photos hold you back? I have serious angst about my poor photography, but I'm too lazy to do anything about it. I know, right now I can cut myself some slack (hello, chemotherapy, people!), but eventually I have got to do something about the bad photos. But I digress.

BABIES are coming!

Storytime Squares Baby Quilt

I've sewn three quilt tops for babies in less than a month. I finally finished quilting the first one (above), and I am really proud of it. I densely quilted straight-ish (cough, cough) lines and while it took FOREVER, it gave the quilt such an amazing texture. And it got even better after I washed it. I paired some adorable animal prints by Creative Thursday (Za Za Zoo line) with some Anna Maria Horner florals (a few from Pretty Potent and one Honor Roll print). I love them together! The recipient has done some work in Africa and I noticed both elephants and giraffes on her registry, so I think this will be a hit.

This was my first time sewing the Storytime Squares quilt by Made by Rae and I liked it well enough to make it again. It was more time consuming than my standbys, but when I'm not in a rush to meet a deadline that's okay. Would I do the dense quilting again? As much as I love the result, the time commitment is really daunting. So probably not any time soon.

Aren't these zebras adorable?

Do you have go-to baby quilt patterns? I love the charms baby quilt pattern by Elizabeth Hartman who blogs at Oh, Fransson! Her blog is currently under construction but you can see other quilts using the pattern here. I have made close to a dozen baby quilts using this pattern. It's quick, easy, and looks great. For the next baby quilt I pulled out the Za Za Zoo prints in blues and yellows and added in my favorite Michael Miller dot and a Lizzy House pearl bracelet. This quilt is for my cousin who is expecting her first baby, a boy.

Eek, this top needs a pressing!

I used some of the leftovers to make two bibs and backed them with flannel from my first son's receiving blankets. (A friend recently told me the bibs I made are "the best bibs" they have. I'm not sure what makes them great, but if you're looking for a simple pattern try this one by Rachel Measham-Pywell for Sew Mama Sew.)

Wouldn't this zebra print make some awesome baby pants?

Did I mention that I won the Creative Thursday fabric I used for those two quilts? A little over a year ago Marisa hosted a giveaway on her blog and my number came up on the random generator! Hooray! In addition to this adorable fat quarter bundle, she sent me an original painting, two books and a few other cute things. What an awesome prize. It took me a long time to figure out how to use the fabric, but once I divided the prints by color I was able to formulate a plan.

The third baby quilt is a simple strip quilt for a friend who loves yellow and doesn't know the gender of her baby. I don't have a lot of yellow, so I bought a Cotton + Steel basic to pair with the cute moon bunnies print in the Mochi line by Rashida Coleman Hale. I added in some white and another Cotton + Steel print. It's not a "wow" quilt, but I think she'll like the simplicity -- and the yellow. Plus, I put together a Divided Basket by Anna @Noodlehead with more yellow and more bunnies and some Essex linen in denim. I love the result! Have you sewn this pattern yet? Because it is one of the best patterns out there. Don't take my word for it; give it a try!

Bunny Divided Basket (you can see the strip quilt in the background)

All of the baby gifts are due in April, so I've really got to get quilting. The finished Storytime Squares quilt will be gifted tomorrow at a surprise baby shower for my coworker. I won't be there (chemo #3 -- see this post) but I'm really excited to hear how it is received. Making a quilt for a coworker I don't know well feels a little presumptuous and perhaps too generous? But I love making baby quilts and I know she'll appreciate the gesture.

And I'm just realizing that I am missing all three of the showers because chemo. Oh well. There will be many other opportunities to celebrate these babies!

And that's it. That's the sum total of my sewing lately. This first quarter of 2015 I completed just two out of five projects on my Finish-A-Long list. I missed the deadline to link them up, but I'll go ahead and claim them here anyway!

Q1 Finishes:

1. Scrappy, wonky star pillow

2. The Unicorn Quilt

Q1 Unfinishes: 

1. Anna Maria Horner Greatest Hits scrappy coin quilt.

2. Priory Square Quilt for someone dear.

3. Echino bird mini quilt. 

I got a little off track at the beginning of the quarter and started a Cotton + Steel plus quilt, but I'm glad I followed my inspiration because it is a project I really love. And while I really should have anticipated the baby quilts (I'd have had a third finish!), I've now gotten a jump on two entries for Quarter Two. Go me!

Q2 Finish-A-Long List:

1. ZaZa Zoo charm square baby quilt for baby boy.

2. Cotton + Steel strip quilt for a friend's baby.
3. Anna Maria Horner greatest hits scrappy coin quilt -- I need to square it up and add the top and bottom borders, and then quilt this baby.
4. Cotton + Steel plus quilt -- Finishing this is a stretch, as I've got only one quarter done, and most likely I'll only get another quarter done by the end of June.
5. Priory Square quilt -- the fabric is collecting dust while I waffle over what design to use. So this is a BIG stretch.
6. Echino bird mini quilt. I made some progress in Q1 and just need to decide on how to finish it. So maybe?

Past the halfway point

Wow, it's been quiet here. I've been thinking about writing, but not doing the writing.

I've reached the halfway point! Actually, I've past it. Tomorrow is my third chemo treatment (out of four). Today I am happy and feeling great. Today is the last day in what I've dubbed "the 10 days of awesome" -- the period when I feel normal again, before doing it all over again. I am grateful to have celebrated my birthday (40!) and my anniversary (15 years of love!) and Easter (with family!) while feeling absolutely great. It was just what I needed to get ready to do it all over again. 

So, to kick off round 3, I'm going to let you in on the not so nice part of this experience. Here, friends, is the update I shared with the village following round 2. I'm happy to say things look and feel different two weeks later, but I know I'll be getting very familiar with the ugly again, this weekend.

And soon, friends, there will be the long overdue sewing update. Because incredibly, I have managed to do a fair amount.


********

The second treatment was harder than the first. Chemo is not for wimps! I’ll say upfront: I’m OK, I’ll be OK, but writing this while in the aftermath of chemo means you’re getting a glimpse at the ugly and not all rainbows and sunshine. 

I've been thinking a lot about language. I had cancer, not I have cancer. It's a subtle distinction that means a lot at a time when I am desperate to feel normal.

Just a reminder: the doctors removed the cancer with surgery, and since the tests show no signs of cancer in my lymph nodes, they declared me cancer free. The chemo is purely extra credit. I'm not treating any cancer, and there won't be any tests to take at the end to tell me I’m cured. The chemo is only to decrease my risk of a recurrence.

My balding head and days in bed make it hard even for me to comprehend. When I had cancer, I looked healthy. Now that the cancer is gone, I look and feel sick. 

Truthfully, no one can guarantee the cancer is gone. But I'm not willing to say "I might have cancer" until my 50th birthday (doctors use 10 year survival statistics). That's depressing! 

What's also depressing: my itchy, patchy, balding head. My three year old asking why daddy threw my hair away. Spending an entire weekend in bed and not on the playground with my boys. The white film on my tongue that I scrub and scrub and won’t go away -- and that makes everything taste bad. Feeling so crummy you can't help your amazing husband (who does everything and sweetly tells you it’s so you don’t have to worry). Turning 40 in two weeks and not wanting to celebrate because you look and feel terrible.

It can't be all sunshine all the time. The good news is I will be feeling better in a few days. Food will taste good again. I’ll get a good night’s sleep, put on sparkly eye shadow, and go to the office. I'll regain my optimism and courage before I have to sit in the chair and do this all over again. Two more times. I can do it.

#100Days of Chemo

I've been wanting to write an update about my sewing, but I haven't been sewing very much. I did manage to piece a baby quilt, but I have no good photos. I've also made some progress on my scrappy Anna Maria Horner "Greatest Hits" coin quilt, but I don't have photos of that, either.

No, life here has been consumed by chemo. I'm one week in. Only 11 more weeks to go!

The last few days have been hard. The side effects I anticipated have mostly been mild. Some queasiness, some fatigue, achiness from the vitamin shot. Add to that interrupted sleep, an itchy scalp and a persistent bad taste in mouth, ruining everything I try to eat or drink. I just don't feel like myself. I know it's unreasonable to expect to feel "good" during chemo, but I hadn't considered how several days of feeling off physically would impact me emotionally. I feel anxious not knowing what's coming next. Will I feel better in the two weeks before my next infusion? Will the next cycle be worse? I'm angry that I had a tiny, stage 1 cancer and I'm subjecting my body to this torture. I've complained endlessly about my "chemo mouth," when I am generally not a complainer.  I've snapped at friends who were just trying to help or just  being nice, because I just want to be normal.

But there is good news. I am enjoying a cup of coffee today for the first time in a week. And I'm thus determined to have a great day. To focus on the big picture instead of the discomforts of the next 77 days. 

It's another snow day here in the nation's capital. I'd love to get the boys outside to enjoy the snow. We don't spend enough time in nature. It's criminal. I'd also love to get out some paint. It's grandma's birthday; maybe some card making? And there is sewing to do. I've got three baby quilts to make in April. Yikes. 

Happy Friday! 

Hair.

My long hair is now short. And by the time I get used to seeing myself with this cut, my hair will be gone.

I haven't had short hair in 13 years. The fear that I wouldn't like it, knowing it would take so many months to grow back, always holds me back.

One of my strongest memories of my first mom is the day she cut her hair. She had long, straight, beautiful golden hair. When she came home from the salon with a shoulder-length shag cut -- it was the early 1980's -- I sobbed. Big, heavy sobs.

Losing my hair is the part of this whole cancer saga I've dreaded the most. The doctors try to reassure me, "This isn't your mother's chemo!" (Note: I think when they say this that they momentarily forget my mom was a real person who was treated with chemo) -- but they are quick to add I will still lose my hair. And based on some ill-advised internet research, the other side effects aren't fun, either. Body aches, BONE aches, fatigue, nails falling out...

Nope. This isn't my mom's chemo, but it won't be a walk in the park, either. Of course, after reading this Los Angeles Times editorial (and necessary critique of breast cancer awareness trumping investments in research) by Laurie Becklund, I'm more determined than ever to get my A in cancer recovery. Because wow. While chemotherapy, treatment and diagnosis may have improved in the past 30 years, there's still a heck of a lot more to do before we can keep women truly safe.

This morning I told my kids I'd be getting a hair cut. "No, mommy! But you won't look like you!" M said. Fortunately he recovered by the end of the day and proclaimed the cut a success. And just as he's getting comfortable with the new mommy, we'll talk about the next mommy: bald mommy. Kids are resilient, I know. It still sucks.

I admit, it feels nice to have short hair. And while it will take many months to grow my hair back to this length, it will take a lot less time than it would to grow my long hair back.

She's here! It's a Janome Skyline!

She's here! Meet Kim Gordon, my new Janome Skyline S5!

Oh, she is such a dream. The 1/4 in piecing foot is accurate! She has auto tension control! There is an adorable bow stitch!

Look at all of those stitches! And the auto-thread cutter!

Just imagine the labels I could make!

I love Kitty, my Brother CS6000i. She is the machine who helped me learn and fall in love with sewing and quilting. She showed me how easy and satisfying it can be to make something beautiful. She has her own set of fancy stitches. And, perhaps her best feature, she is so lightweight! An excellent travel companion.

But Kitty has her flaws. She struggles with accuracy. Her throat space and lighting are lacking. I've fiddled with her thread tension endlessly, sometimes to no avail. She's kept pace with me as best as she can, but it's time to make room for a new family member.

Yes, it is a very good day to be snowed in. A VERY good day!

Okay, I've got to go now. Kim Gordon and I are still getting acquainted. But so far I can say this: her name suits her. She is BADASS.

The Big Update

I'm having a hard time writing this update. So I am just going to paste in the email I sent to a few friends last night. I'm feeling different today, but I can't talk about it just yet. So this will have to do for now. Happy snow day. Xoxo

Hi all--

I'll cut to the chase: I start chemo next week. I feel... Okay. Alternating between fine and angry. Did some angry sewing earlier (a baby quilt--hope it doesn't pass on to the baby!). Drank some wine. Ate some chocolate. It helps a little.

The cancer is stage 1 (0-4 scale; my type starts at 1 because it is considered invasive so stage 1 is the best I could hope for), so I am starting with a great prognosis. They now do personalized testing to determine risk of recurrence and responsiveness to additional treatment. This is the testing I've been waiting on since surgery.

I scored 25 on the oncotype test (read more here: http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/testing/types/oncotype_dx), which is right in the middle of the "intermediate" (ambiguous) range. So I have a 16% chance of cancer recurring (elsewhere) if I do tamoxifen (standard, hormonal therapy for my kind of cancer) alone, or I can add chemo and reduce the risk to maybe 10-11%. In other words, if i just do tamoxifen, there's an 84% chance I will be cancer free in 10 years. If I add chemo, 90% chance I'll be cancer free. It doesn't sound like much of a difference, but it is much easier to treat and "cure" it now than to wait and treat a cancer that may develop. Because once it is elsewhere... You know the rest. (And while it wasn't in my lymph nodes, there's no guarantee they just didn't see a cell...)

As Husband quipped, it's like going from a B to an A-. Which was both funny and helpful because I am definitely the person who would go for the A- over a B! Heck, let's try for the A.

Anyway, the doctor offered us time to consider, another mtg to discuss, but I said let's just do it. Get it done! I asked if he would encourage his daughter to do it and he said, I think sincerely, yes. So I had blood drawn today and next week I'll have a port put in and then next Thursday I start. Assuming my plastic surgeon clears me (but we assume so because I am 4weeks post surgery this Wednesday).

We met the social worker. She gave us books for the boys which we probably won't use; "mommy has cancer" is not a sentence I want to say out loud. Mommy needs medicine and will have a bald head, fine. But I want to laugh about how funny that is. I am not dying, I don't feel sick. And they are LITTLE! Too little. So we are going to normalize it as much as possible. 

We saw the infusion room which is a big room with chairs around the perimeter. The infusions take @3-4 hours! The doctor said how I react to the first one will likely be how I react to future infusions. So that's good to know. 

I will have 4 infusions -- the least they do. There is roughly three weeks in between each one so it'll be about 12 weeks until I'm done. 

I don't know when I'll lose my hair. A few weeks in, I assume. I get a prescription for a good wig. Bald for my 40th! 

After chemo I will start the tamoxifen and take it until my ovaries and tubes come out. (Most women take it 5-10 years but I won't need it if I have no ovaries producing hormones.)

Thanks for all of your calls, visits, letters, emails, food, carpooling, babysitting, etc. I am so grateful. Thanks, as well, for treating me like a normal person. I won't make it through this if we can't laugh, if we can't have fun. My family won't make it through if we don't laugh and have fun! I don't want to cry over my lost hair (although I probably will). I do want to yell about it, and then I want to laugh about it. So you better be ready to crack some jokes and try on some wigs with me!

Love, c