Got to see the Lanie race this weekend at Head of the Schuylkill. I'm feeling physically very good, so it was even harder to have to sit and watch races when I was looking forward to my first head racing season as a sculler. I'll be back for Spring/Summer racing though which is what really matters, I suppose. I also got to see my alma mater come down the course. My pal Reggie Mac came with me as my babysitter for the day. She had great fun being stared at for wearing a Penn State jacket in the Temple boathouse. All I gotta say is, hey man, you guys may crush us on the river, but we have a better food tent than you. And we gladly cheered for both teams. Unfortunately, by the time Reggie Mac and I started working our way back over to the Penn State tent as Lanie was launching for her race, our former teammates had already finished loading their trailer and were on the road home. And to make it even worse, the next day there was a big package of fun drawings and jokes and candy and a Penn State hat and a Penn State crew shirt and a bracelet and a card and origami waiting for me! And I didn't even get to see everyone!! I was so happy yet so upset at the same time. Can't thank Hannah and Penn State Crew enough. I only rowed for them for one year, and for them to put a box full of goodies together was TOO SWEET. Also just wanna say that after a day full of racing, they had to go home and clean Beaver Stadium the next day. Those kids work so hard, and then turn around and spend their free time making stupid drawing for their former teammate. Race day was Day 15 of treatment. I was told hair loss could start 2-4 weeks after starting treatment. Apparently my body likes to stick to the the schedule because when I came home and showered, I lost A LOT of hair. I was told my hair would fall out slowly in the shower or quickly on a pillow. Nobody said anything about quickly in the shower. Not gonna lie, there were some tears. I haven't showered since. It's actually incredible how much hair you can lose and still have hair on your head. Also, there is definitely a hair hierarchy. Head hairs are royalty and leg and armpit hairs are plebs. Pubes and eyebrows and eyelashes falls somewhere in between. And apparently it's DOWN WITH THE QUEEN first because my leg hair doesn't seem to be going anywhere. I made a pretty conscious vow to myself not to shave when I got diagnosed because what's the point, right? Last week my mom asked me if I had lost any hair yet. I informed her that my head hair didn't seem to be falling out any faster than normal, but I had noticed hair in my nether regions falling out in the shower. (Too much information? Sorry, not sorry. It's funny because some people have told me I'm "brave" for sharing what I do. To be honest, it's a coping technique. If I write about it, it become more normal. Well that's what you get for using the b word: pubes. And I've always been an oversharer.) She told me she thought I shaved them. Once upon a time, I did shave them off. Then I decided I wanted to do the Mifflin Streak my junior year of college, so I grew them back. You know. For aesthetic. And they've been with me ever since. But now we must part ways. I told you that I'm an oversharer.
Anywho...I am indeed losing my hair.
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Today was the first day since starting treatment that I did not have to take any pill, injection, anything related to chemo. That's a little bit of a lie. I took some Tylenol because my back has been hurting most likely due to my white blood cell booster med working a little too well causing bone pain. But still. I'll take that as a good thing.
I decided yesterday that school and chemo were too much to juggle at the same time, so I withdrew for the time being and will re-enroll next Fall. My doc is helping me transfer to a doc at CHOP, so I can get treatment closer to home. I would've loved to keep a class or two, but apparently they don't fund part-time students. My dad and I talked about maybe taking a Portuguese class together. (That could either go really well or really poorly. I'll keep you posted.) I feel actually pretty good right now (other than the back pain), so deciding to withdraw is making me feel like a real turd of a human being, sitting on the couch and being super lazy. But I know I will really appreciate this decision a week from Friday when I have to get more treatment. In the meantime, maybe I'll take advantage of living in a house with a piano again. Long story short, if you know anyone looking for a place to live in DC, hit me up... Also, I cut my hair to brace for my hair falling out. I've heard some people's fall out really slowly in the shower and other people wake up one morning and their hair is on their pillow and not their head. When the doc saw me, he said "Don't be mad at me if you cut your hair that short and it never falls out." First of all, don't tell someone they're gonna lose their hair, if they might not. Say they might lose their hair. Then he's like, "you probably won't lose it until after the second treatment." Well which one is it doc?! Am I or am I not going to look like the Master of Disguise for the next several months of my life?! I like the hair cut, but I almost lost it on him. Not cool, doc. Not cool. This blog post is just a complete mess, so I thought I'd at least start it off on a positive (or at least funny) note -- with my two favorite lectures from nurses/docs this weekend: 1. The importance of pooping. Apparently it is everything. Spent a lot of time talking about the importance of taking stool softeners. Talked a lot about the hardness of poops. Was reminded of this by my friend Kallee after getting out of the hospital when she said her coworker's biggest advice (who had lymphoma) was to take stool softeners. 2. "Nothing in mucus membranes" aka my doc's way of saying no sex. He specifically said "no sex" but you could tell he likes the phrase "nothing in mucus membranes" much better because of the number of times he repeated it. I'm 24, single, and my lymphoma diagnosis almost perfectly coincided with the start of my graduate school career. I think I have other things to worry about, but I appreciate the clarification. Actual beginning of blog post: So chemo is rougher than I thought it'd be. I (wrongfully) figured that if I wasn't rowing, chemo would just take the place of that for the time being. Rowing makes you tired, and chemo makes you tired. It seems like an even trade off. Boy was I wrong! The thing with rowing is if you're tired after a workout, you can eat some carbs, charge through some homework, and get on with it. Catch up on sleep with short naps and on the weekends. Chemo doesn't work like that. I feel like I just ran a marathon after walking 10 minutes from my house to class. When I'm chemo tired, I'm not a functional human being. There is no "pushing through" until the weekend. I got discharged Sunday evening and attempted to go back to classes on Monday. Bad idea. I slept for a solid 9.5 hours Sunday night, went to one class, immediately went home and took another 4 hour nap, had no trouble falling asleep that night, took a nap after a Tuesday morning appointment, and skipped all of my Tuesday classes. Now, I liked naps before starting chemo, but that's excessive even for me! (The following 2 paragraphs involve a lot of whining. Feel free to skip them. Or not. You do you.) It probably didn't help that I didn't start treatment until 10pm on Friday evening either. I got my port placed on Friday afternoon and had to fast for the placement. (They gave me anesthesia, but I was awake for the placement. Not. A. Fan.) By the time they had my bed ready for the weekend after the port placement, it was early evening. Since I had fasted, I was dehydrated and wasn't allowed to start the harsh chemo drugs until my pee was less sunflower yellow and more new-born-baby-gender-neutral yellow. The first night was definitely the roughest. I started with a depo shot (so I won't get my period for a few months to prevent having to do any more blood transfusions than necessary) followed by all 6 chemo drugs, lasting until about 3am. The nurses monitor you constantly during the treatment, getting vitals every 5-15 minutes depending on the drug, and check on you throughout the night to make sure your vitals are normal and you aren't reacting weirdly. Nurse Connie, my main squeeze, got it down to a science. She would whisper Emma, and I would lift my arm up for the blood pressure cuff and open my mouth for the thermometer without even opening my eyes. The following night I received only 2 drugs and Sunday night I received just one. But the treatments have to be spaced out, so all my treatments were at night. Funny thing: I had to pee into this bucket that sits in the toilet during the whole weekend because they have to measure fluids in and out. After being told I was too dehydrated to start receiving chemo the first night, you better believe I was chugging water like it was my job for the rest of the weekend. My goal became overflowing the bucket into the toilet as many times as possible throughout the weekend. Proud to say, I was successful on more than one occasion. It's the little things in life. Other weird thing that my mom noticed: my appetite has almost disappeared. And I LOVE food! I think I've turned down more food in these past few days than I have in my entire lifetime. Also, MAJOR HEADACHE all the time. And jaw pain. And some nausea thrown in there. And dry mouth. Random crying -- semi relevant side anecdote: Professor calls Emma in to office for mid semester evaluation. *immediately bursts into tears* Poor guy just wanted to tell me how I was doing in his class. Have a feeling that's not the last time I'll be seen crying to a professor. Those one-on-one sessions really get me. What can I say? Emmas cry when they're stressed, and this past week, people have seen the epitome of stressed Emma. Ok, I'm done complaining...for now. On the plus side, super grateful for everyone being so supportive. Professors have been very understanding about me having to turn in late assignments or missing class or just not being 100% there in class even when I am physically present. People who I don't know that well offering to accompany me to chemo, classmates taking notes for me, etc. A former classmate from Penn State who lives in the area offering to donate her own hair to make a wig for me?! Also, checking the mail is one of the brightest parts of my day! I mean, who doesn't love snail mail?? Special shout out to my Support GOATS, you know who you are. Things I find funny: 1. The number of times I've been informed that pot is legal in D.C. since being diagnosed. 2. Random people giving me medical advice. I'm not talking like family or close friends. I'm talking about a girl that I spent a day with in a hostel in some country forever ago reaching out to tell me about some diet that she heard cures cancer. Thanks, 'ppreciate it. Think I'll leave it to the professionals. (Don't worry, I was nice and told her I'd look it up. I didn't.) 3. People telling me I'm "handling things well" while I'm literally crying in front of them. I feel like we have very different definitions of "handling things well." You don't have to lie to me. It's ok. Some days I handle it well. Some days I don't. Well, this blog post has been just complete word vomit. But I feel better and might now be able to focus on some homework. My friend Jess put it the best when she said that it's one less round of chemo to go through. Thanks for putting it in perspective, chica. Enjoy these photos from my first weekend of treatment, featuring the port. Thinking about calling him Port-a-pot because shitty things get put into him. Gotta go inject myself with some white blood cell booster drugs. Ta ta for now! P.S. In light of this blog not being entirely about cancer, I'd like to take a moment to roast my sister's hilarious photo shoot that she did for her rowing team. Let's first start with the cute photos: Dawwww isn't she soooo adorable?? Love the progression of her laughing. Now let's move on to the funny ones. They must've told her to snap out of it and be serious. Then they gave her an oar to hold. Props and a Tierney = never a good idea. Love her. <3 (P.P.S. Not my photos. Don't sue me.)
When I moved to Spain, I got rid of my phone. Like completely got rid of it. Number and everything. Then I go post on social media about my diagnosis, and I feel really bad for the guy who has my old number. Everybody is probably texting him and wishing him well, and he's probably really confused. How do I know it's a he? Well my friend Mal has added him to one too many group texts. But I can't remember his name for the life of me. It's a really generic name like John or Steve or Mike. I think it's Mike. Maybe I should text him and apologize. What I'm trying to say is, if you want my new number, lemme know.
I went in for my PET scan this morning at 7:15am and left the hospital at 1:30pm. I keep going to appointments and tests thinking I'll be done with them in an hour or 2 max. I need to start planning to spend my whole day there, so when I spend just half a day there, I'm pleasantly surprised. Moving on. Not only did I have to fast for the PET scan, but I wasn't allowed to eat glucose because the scan uses glucose to identify bad cells. Hangry Emma came out to play for a little while this morning especially post-scan when I was waiting around for my results. Good news is I don't have leukemia, so I didn't need the bone marrow biopsy. AND I was allowed to eat because I didn't have to stay fasted (is that how you say that?) for the biopsy. I packed the pumpkin muffin (along with many other snackies) my roomie gave me the night before. Thanks, Jess! Bad news is I have a few other lumps in my chest around my heart and lungs (but not affecting them) that are 1-3 inches in diameter. My stage is 2A. It's not stage 3 because it's not affecting my organs, and it's not stage 1 because it's in more than just 1 place. Don't ask me how many stage 2s there are. I don't know, and I don't feel like looking it up. If you want to talk about Googling things, talk to my parents. I've decided that I don't Google. But if you ask me, 2A sounds a hell of a lot closer to 1 than it does to 3. We also decided that I'm going to get a port inserted to receive my treatments, so I don't have to have an IV hanging out of me that I have to clean everyday. I have a small operation Friday to get it inserted and immediately start in patient treatment afterwards. Since it's slow growing, I was able to postpone treatment until after my exam is over this week. My chemo concoction is a type of alphabet soup because the 6 drugs start off A, B, C, etc... Dr. T informed me of all the lovely side effects and said yes, I will lose my hair. I'm a rather tall for a girl (not woman- remember, I'm being treated in the pediatric oncology department). Don't get me wrong, I like being tall. But it also means I appreciate the things that make me feel just a little more feminine, like long hair. I do like my hair, but it's not the end of the world. So goes life. Good thing winter is coming, and I can just use it as an excuse to buy some fun hats. I don't think I'll look particularly attractive without hair as I have a rather egg shaped head, and I don't wear enough make-up to be able to pull off that look. But don't you worry. I will make it fun somehow -- scarves, hats, baseball caps, egg head...there are options galore. Plus, it's hair. It grows back. I will receive my treatments for 3-4 days every 3 weeks. My immune system will be at its most vulnerable day 14, so the nurse said hand washing is critical. One of the drugs, I have to give to myself in the form of an injection daily. I think I'll bring my roommates along with me when I learn how to give it to myself. If I'm gonna have cancer, the nursing, medical assistant, and med student roomies should at least learn something out of it. Plus that way they can stick me, and I don't have to. Felt like I should probably give an update since my weekly reading based has magically jumped from 9 to 41. And I'm procrastinating taking an online Portuguese exam. Tuesday I met my oncologist, Dr. T. I call him Dr. T not because that's how he introduced himself but rather because I can't remember his last name for the life of me. All I know is it starts with a T and ends with a ski. Anywho. It's really weird to walk into a doctor's office and everybody knows who you are. The lady at the front desk knew who I was. All 3 therapists introduced themselves to me and my mom. Dr. T introduced himself before my appointment even started. All good things, but very overwhelming. I think walking into the office made things a little too real for my mom and myself. We both started crying. Guess Dr. Chu has to take back what she said at my earlier appointment about handling everything so well. Oops. Funny thing: The nurse took my blood pressure, and since I'm being treated in the pediatric oncology department, she had a hard time finding an adult blood pressure cuff. She took my blood pressure while I was crying with a pediatric cuff and my blood pressure came back really high. She said it might be because she was using a cuff that was too small, and I just wanted to be like, do I look calm to you? Poor nurse. She was probably just trying to be nice. Good things: Both my mom and I walked out of the office feeling a lot more confident about everything that was going to happen. I start chemo Wednesday (I think) and have some other tests and stuff before then. Since being diagnosed, I've only received the best news someone with cancer could get. All my blood tests and everything have come back normal. And I don't feel sick which seems very counter intuitive to having lymphoma, but I'll take it as a good sign! Man. I don't know people who have adult cancer handle it! Glad I'm in the kiddie place with very patient docs and nurses. Not that the regular place would have non-patient docs and nurses. You know what I mean. My mom left Tuesday, and I've just been here chugging away at my homework. I have an exam Wednesday morning and a bunch of homework due this week which I'm trying to finish before I start treatment just because I don't know how I'll feel afterwards. I was supposed to go to New York with the Penn State ladies but I had to bail, unfortunately. Hopefully I'll get to see them soon! As I promised Olivia I would do something fun since I didn't go to NY, I went to my friend Gorka's place on Friday for dinner with a bunch of peeps from the Spanish department. Seriously. Feeling fine now. All the tears are out of the way. *crosses fingers* This has just been a stressful experience with trying to juggle classes with doc appointments. But I have to say, I have only the best people in my life supporting me. Special shout outs to Kallee for leaving a wonderful rendition of Feeling Good on my voicemail (she sounds just like Michael Bublé, in case you were wondering), Uncle Mike and Aunt Viv for a beautiful portrait of themselves, and Margaret and the Sayers clan for boxes full of yumilicious goodies. I'm definitely feeling the love. And of course shout out to my fam. They're the best. Make sure you wonderful people send some love their way as I think this experience has probably been more stressful for them than it has been for me, especially the mom who has been running back and forth to DC for the past few weeks.
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AuthorI'm Emma. I love food more than anyone will ever understand - specifically cheese, chocolate, bread and pretty much every fat & carb combo you can think of - apple cider donuts, ice cream, the list goes on. Fats and carbs just go so well together. Don't you think? Why is it that when I'm tasked to describe myself, I always talk about food? Anywho, I'm a grad student and rower training studying and training in DC. Here's to having no free time and loving every minute of it (jk...I'll tell you the bad stuff too)! Archives
July 2020
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