Good News!

Well, I had my 16 month post cancer checkup on Wednesday and got great news. No signs if reoccurrence. The Dr told me that my bladder looked PERFECT. ( I don't know how it's supposed to look, but it was gross when I saw it!) You don't know how nervous I get driving to the appointments. Once you have heard the word...CANCER, it's not easy to forget that feeling. When I was first diagnosed in September of 2007, one of my step daughter's friends had just lost her mom to the same kind of cancer I was just told I had. I was terrified. During the week between the diagnosis and the surgery, I cried constantly. I told everyone I loved them. I made sure that Rob knew my last wishes. I got my insurance papers out to read over. You think alot about how you want to split things up between family and friends when you get that diagnosis. I tried to stay positive, but the cloud of doom hovered over everything. For so many, the diagnosis of cancer is a life sentence. I was lucky. I AM lucky. I had bladder cancer. I had never heard of it before Nat's mom died. I had no outward symptonms. One afternoon, I noticed a little blood in my urine. I had a hysterectomy 4 years earlier, so I knew this was abnormal bleeding. I made an appointment with my OB/GYN. After the exam, he took me into his office and explained to me that he could not find where it was coming from. He ordered an ultrasound. I went directly over to the hospital and had it done. They found nothing. The next day I went back to the GYN, and he told me that he was stumped, he didn't know what was causing it. BUT, he was referring me to a urologist because it might be coming from my bladder. This was a Thursday, on Monday, I saw the urologist. He told me that it sounded like bladder cancer, and he wanted me in ambulatory surgery on Wednesday to have a cystoscopy. That's when they insert a scope into your bladder and look around. I was awake during the procedure and as soon as the scope entered my bladder, the Dr said...oh yes, there's a tumor. Then he looked around, and said... there's another one. I held it together pretty well.... until we got in the car to go home. Then, I fell apart. CANCER. Oh my God. The following Wednesday I was back at the hospital. This time, I was knocked out and when I woke up, the tumors were gone and I was in recovery, waiting with chemo drugs in my bladder. After about 30 minutes, they drained my bladder through a catheter, and allowed me to go home. The next few months were AWFUL. Because of the surgery, AND the chemo drugs, I had no control over my bladder. I couldn't go anywhere there wasn't a bathroom, and when I felt the urge, I couldn't hold it. When I did make it to the bathroom, the pain and burning was more than I could describe. A month after the tumors were removed, I started spotting again. I was brought back into surgery and my bladder was scraped again. I was put on some real strong drugs to help the tissue rebuild itself. It took 3 months for these drugs to begin to work. And to top it all off...my urologist up and moved to New York City, and I was left without a Dr. I found Dr Leib in Saranac Lake. And Bless this man's heart... with his help, I finally started to heal. It seems that the chemo drugs that were inserted into my bladder after the first surgery, had literally burned the whole inside of my bladder. I saw it, and it looked like white hamburger, with all the burnt tissue. Dr. Leib put me on some strong antibiotics, and continued me on the Elmiron to rebuild the tissue. At my 6 month checkup, everything was finally getting back to normal in there. I had full control of my bladder again, and there were no more symptoms. Now at 16 months, I am cancer free and with a healthy bladder. Now here's the part that shocked me. I got bladder cancer because I smoked for a long time. You never hear about how smoking can cause anything but lung cancer, but it's the major cause of bladder cancer. Another factor was the use of permanent hair dye over an extended period. I had smoked from 1971 to 2001 and had colored my hair from about 1973 until I had the diagnosis in 2007. So, be careful. Be aware of changes in your body, and when you noticed something different, go have it checked out. Because I went immediately to the Dr when I noticed the blood, The tumors were found early. They were non invasive, and easily removed. Thank God I had an OB/GYN who had the sense to admit he didn't know what was causing it and sent me to someone who did. He saved my life.

Thoughts

This past weekend would have been my mother's 81st birthday. I lost her right before Halloween in 2000. I don't care what anyone says...the pain never goes away. Time and distance makes it better, but it never totally goes away. My mom was a complicated person. She was a strong woman. She had strong opinions, and wasn't afraid to voice them. Alot of the time, it was hurtful. To say she ruled the roost, is putting it mildly. I remember the woman who worked hard at her job and at trying to make a good home for us. But I also see a manipulative, overbearing woman, who put on a front for people outside the house, who verbally, and once, that I can remember, physically abused me. I was the "fat, ignorant, disappointment" in her life. All my life, I strived for her approval. I longed to hear her say she was proud of me. She wrote it in a birthday card once, but never voiced it to me. I think she was unhappy, and wanted everyone else around her to be unhappy with her. She was the queen of guilt trips. It's too bad that I didn't get frequent flyer miles for all the guilt trips I was sent on. I could afford to vacation anywhere I wanted now...and take all my family with me! But all wasn't bad. There were the times when she and I would sit down together and she would teach me the things that were important to her, and are now important to me. She taught me to crochet, when I was a child. The first afghan I ever made, completely by myself, was when I was about 12 years old, and I gave it to my grandma. My mom taught me to love crafting, and I have passed this on to Lindsay. I can remember learning to cook, when I was barely tall enough to see over the counter. The first pie I ever made, (it was a lemon meringue) was for my first crush...my oldest brother's best friend. I was about 9 years old, and when mom was helping me take it out of the oven, I dropped it on the floor. We scraped it up into the pan, and he ate some anyway. I was devastated, but my mom was there to comfort me. I remember those things. I remember, the vacations, we went on as a family. The trips to Oklahoma, the trips to the ocean,and the camping trips. Things weren't always bad, but when they were...they were just as unforgettable. She's been gone now for going on 9 years. I went back to California when she passed, to help clean out her house. For 10 days, my brothers and I went through the things her and my dad (who passed in 1997) had collected all their lives. What we couldn't sell, we donated to churches. My brothers took my dad's tools, and some of the things from the house. I didn't want anything. The things my mom wanted me to have, she gave me when she was alive. I can remember going through her stuff, and not feeling anything. I remember talking about it with my brother, and telling him that instead of a feeling of loss, I was relieved. Is that not sad? I loved my mom. I felt guilty for leaving her in California when I moved to New York. But I was relieved she was gone. I didn't have to worry about how she would react to me anymore. My brothers felt the same way. As bad as she could be, she was still my mom, and I still loved her. Now that I have had years away, I am seeing her for how she really was. It doesn't make me love her any less, but it does make me feel sorry for her. She was a confused, unhappy, complicated person. She was a person who, to protect her own feelings, hurt others and pushed them away. It was like she was afraid of letting anyone get close. Not even her family. But, I believe she can hear me now, and she can really listen to what I am saying. And I want her to know that I forgive her, and I miss her. Above all else, I still love her.