Today I had my regular monthly check-up with my Oncologist. This time Eric wasn't able to come because he had the early shift at work, so it was just Brandon & myself. All of the ladies there love him. And I mean LOVE! He lights up their faces. Everybody from the Receptionists Jo and Karen, to all of the nurses in the unit Kellie, Jessica and Kristi to name a few. I like to think that he brings a little hope and joy to some of the other patients there also. The ones who get to see him in the waiting room at least. He's such a happy boy. Always smiling. So who couldn't love him, right?
Ok, back to my update. We went back with Kellie and talked about everything that we usually talk about. How I am feeling, how Eric's doing, what new thing Brandon is doing now. At today's visit I brought some pictures I had been promising her of Brandon. She only asked for one, but I brought her three. How can you pick just one picture of this sweet boy? I know I can't. That's probably why my phone gets filled up so fast. After the chatting and the weighing and the blood pressure taking we went into the exam room. She entered my information into my chart on the computer, talked to Brandon a little more and then said she would let Dr H know I was ready. The waiting is always the tough part. It never used to be until August 19, 2015. My diagnosis day. Doesn't matter how good I'm doing, I always get nervous while waiting. Usually I can make small talk with Eric, but since he wasn't there today, it was all about small talk with Brandon. Which meant making goofy faces and smiling at him while talking to him.
A few minutes later Dr H came in. It was the same thing, all about Brandon again. He too has a brand new son. Just a little over a month younger than Brandon. After the hellos and talking to Brandon, we started right in on how I'm going with treatment and my labs. Now, to remind you, back in November when I started my chemo treatment my numbers were around 5000. Within a month they were down to around 500 and steadily going down since then. For the last month or so they have been fluctuating between 4-16 or so. Which is really good. Well, this week they were at .65. Not 65. There is a decimal point in front of the 6. As in LESS than 1! I was in shock. Still am at it's almost 12 hours later. This shows that the treatment I am getting is working for me. It shows that I am responding very well to this treatment. Of course, that number can go back up some next week, but to be below 1 is pretty amazing in my eyes. After this announcement, he asked how I was feeling and then did the usual check up of checking my lungs and heart and stomach. Before we left, we made plans for my bone marrow biopsy I need to do for my transplant. No set time yet, just a day and that it'll be in the morning. The last one I had was the day of my diagnosis. The lidocaine was the worse part of it all. There was some pressure when Dr H was pulling and tugging to get the bone marrow out, but that lidocaine hurt so bad. Now, to back track just a little. Dr H is about 5'2" or so. Smaller than myself. I was laying on the table on my left side, pregnant belly out there and Eric and Kellie were on the front side of me helping to keep my calm and comforted. Eric told me, because I couldn't see this, that Dr H was basically bracing himself with one foot on the table and pounding the needle into my hip to get to the bone marrow. As funny a sight that must have been, and how much that lidocaine hurt, it's well worth it if it means it's going to show how well I'm doing. Before I left, he asked if I could redo my phosphorous lab. Of course I could. I was going to be down in that area already.
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{^^ That right there was Brandon helping his mommy write}
After that appointment I went down to fill a prescription and then also do the one lab Dr H wanted me to redo. My phosphorous came back a little high from my labs on Monday, so he wanted to see if it came down since then. The lab tech I got is amazing. She's an older lady that wears blue eyeshadow and does her hair kind of big. Like she's living life as her younger self again. Don't get me wrong, she's very professional. Looks can be deceiving. She's probably my favorite lab tech. The reason being is because when she sticks me, I don't feel the needle. At all! By the time I was done and I walked across the lobby to the pharmacy my prescription was ready. I stood in line for about 5 minutes, got my prescription and then was off to just wander and walk around before going to pick up Eric from work for the next appointment.
After Brandon and I left Kaiser we went to Target to get some diapers to hold off until we could get the CostCo ones. Then it was off to Buy Buy Baby to walk around, because who doesn't like to walk around a baby store? Next we went to Michaels because I love to walk around and get ideas for my next craft. I get so many ideas in my head it is hard to keep them straight sometimes, but walking around Michaels or even JoAnns helps get them in order. It helps get my creative juices flowing again. After Michaels, I decided I needed something to eat. And I wanted to be closer to CostCo where Eric works so I went to El Pollo Loco. It has been years since I ate there. Probably since 2001. It's still good, but I think because of my allergies and the fact my throat is probably scratched up from coughing so much, the spiciness of the burrito I ordered hurt, and I only ate half of it.
After lunch I decided to go ahead and go to CostCo. Eric still had an hour, but of course I could walk around the store and get a little more exercise. First place I went when I got into the store was to the back. To the deli where Eric works. I figured that even if he was in the chicken room or in the production room, he would still see us and know we were there. As I walked towards the back I saw him there at Poke. That made it so much easier to say hi and for him to get a little Brandon time too. He still needed to take his last break so I went over to say hi to Jen, Rosie and the rest of the guys and gals in the deli with Brandon. They, like everybody at oncology, love to see him. I let Jen know that Eric needed his last break and then went back to Eric. Not knowing Jen was right behind me to give him a break. We walked around and sat for about 10 minutes before he had to get back. Brandon was getting tired so I told him that we would be up front waiting for him. 30 minutes later, there he was and we were off to my next appointment. My Echocardiogram.
Yes, I am 37 years old and had an echo done of my heart. It's just a standard test for my transplant. Next week I have my pulmonary test. We got to Kaiser, got to Cardiology and checked in and only had to wait maybe 10 minutes. We went back and I got dressed for the test. I will have to say, this was actually really cool to see my heart. To see it beating. To see the vales. To HEAR my heart beating. The last time I heard a heartbeat and saw the fluttering of a heart was Brandons at my prenatal appointments. It still amazes me how we can do all these tests and ultrasounds to see and hear parts of our bodies nobody really sees or hears. Well, except for our doctors. Eric and Brandon were of course in the room with us and got to see and hear my heart also. Both Eric and I think that when we heard my heart, it was a soothing sound for Brandon. A familiar sound. I could see how that would be too. For the 8 months he was in me, he heard it. There is a saying I saw on Pinterest when I was pregnant with Brandon. "Your child will be the only person to hear your heartbeat from the inside". How true is that? About half way through, Eric decided to take Brandon out to the waiting room and walk around with him because he was getting a little fussy and needed some movement. The tech and I finished and she helped me get everything out to the waiting room. Everything being his carseat. She let me know that everything looked great but if anything was wrong, I would hear from Dr H. By this time, Brandon was asleep and we got situated and left to go get Erics car and go home, but not without stopping for some frozen yogurt. A long day like today called for some.
So, all in all, it was a long busy day, but a productive one at that. We are now in bed, both writing with Brandon sitting between us. He is starring at my screen. Like he's reading what I am typing. But really I think it's the bright shiny light of the computer screen he's looking at. Everything I've done in the last 7 months is all because of him. Without him, we probably wouldn't know about my cancer. I could be sitting here with it and not know. I owe everything to this little guy who stole my heart a little over a year ago when we heard his first heartbeat and saw it fluttering so fast at that first prenatal appointment. Who would have thought at that moment, he would be saving me. His mommy he hadn't actually met yet. He will always have my heart along with Eric. These two keep me grounded.
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
A little About Me - Part 3
I am now in my new home. The day I got the keys, my parents came up to help me move in that weekend. So, once I had a bit of time laying there on the floor, giddy and excited that this was my place. No landlord. No apartment office. All mine. I got up and went to pick up my parents. We went for dinner then to my apartment to get the fur children (Kahlua and my old cat Elvis) and a few items to sleep with and went out to the condo for the night. It was really weird to not be in my apartment and to be sleeping on the floor in my new bedroom. The same room I am in now as I type this post. The walls were so white. No furniture, no pictures, no nothing. Just some blankets and pillows on the floor and a change of clothes for the next day. We took the weekend to move in, get some items at Lowes, Home Depot and Target, and put the place to together as much as possible with my parents before they went home that Sunday. My first night here alone was really weird. Quiet. I didn't have any neighbors that moved in yet on either side of me, so I couldn't hear anything except a few cars driving by on the road at night and the occasional plane flying overhead. I got used to it after about 2 weeks, and I am still here in the same place almost 8 years later.
The next few years were pretty uneventful, with the exception of an engagement that ended in me finding him cheating, with many different girls. That was a tough time. I would like to think I had been a pretty good judge of character and have no clue why I would have fallen for somebody like him. The thing about him that gave away the cheating was that his lies were not adding up. The places he said he was he really wasn't. The jobs he said he was doing, he really wasn't. And the biggest one was his ex and mother of his oldest son. He said he was going to see his son and staying in a hotel, he wasn't there. And then I saw the Facebook post of hers that they were engaged. He couldn't lie good enough for me. Maybe his lies were good enough for the other girls, but he forgot I some things I told him. And the fact that I paid the phone bill. In the end, I kicked him out and even took him to court. Of course, he still hasn't paid the judgement, and I know I will never see a dime, but knowing he really didn't get away with anything he did to me, thats good enough. I learned from that mistake. It made me a stronger person. The person I am today.
A few months later, February 2011, I met the man who would become my husband and father of my baby boy. Eric and I met on Chemistry.com. We e-mailed a few times on the site, and then took it to our personal e-mails and eventually phone calls. Long phone calls. Our first one was about 3 hours long. And we didn't have those long awkward pauses. We talked. About everything and anything. Then, on February 15th we had our first date at Macaroni Grill in Folsom. This date was so different from any date I had ever been on before. A typical date for me would be coffee or dinner and the conversation would be boring or almost non existent. Not that I didn't try, the guy would not be as interesting or wouldn't try in person. But, this date with Eric, like our phone calls, was all about conversation. We were so into the conversation that we got a little annoyed that the waiter kept coming by and asking how we were. We know he was doing his job, but we wanted to talk and not be interrupted. As dinner was ending, we didn't want the date to end. So, we decided to head down to Old Sacramento to walk around, but as we got outside, we found it pouring rain. Like puddles everywhere so hard it was almost like it was rocks pelting you. Plans changed and we ended up driving around Sacramento. He showed me all the places he lived around the area and where he went to school. He showed me where his best friend in high school lived and where his aunt lived. Then, we decided to go bowling. It was probably about 11pm at this point, but we honestly lost all track of time. We were genuinely enjoying our time together. The conversation was still going strong. We played a few frames and then decided at about 1am that we should probably go get my car. As we got back to my car, we still sat in the truck for about another hour just talking. Finally, we decided I needed to get going since I still had a 45 minute drive home. Moments after getting in my car and pulling out of the parking lot, my phone rings and it was him. He kept me company all the way home. When we finally hung up when I got home, I remember thinking to myself "Did this night just happen? Did I really have this amazing date full of conversation that seemed neither of us wanted to end?" I had a "perm grin" on my face. It felt good. Especially after the crap engagement I had. It almost felt too good to be true.
As most relationships have, we had our ups and downs. Nothing is perfect, and if it were, what fun would that be? Eric and mines relationship was real. We talked. We had fun doing nothing together. It was everything I had always wanted in a relationship. On our one year anniversary he kinda surprised me with a trip overnight to Tahoe. It was a great trip at that too. Fun, relaxing, just what we both needed. I say kinda surprised because I needed to know some of what we were going to do since I would need to find somebody to watch Kailua. Otherwise, it was a surprise. A great surprise. Our drive up was beautiful with all the snow. And we drove home going through Emerald Bay and up to North Lake Tahoe to hit Interstate 80. Everything was still going well. I was shocked really. Usually I find something wrong at this point, and I couldn't. Come Christmas 2012 we got to talking and decided to get married. He did ask, but I really didn't need some extravagant proposal. We were sitting on the couch, having some wine and watching a movie that we probably paused a million times (which is normal for us because we will start talking...or, really, I will start talking) and I told him my concern for the event that happened that day. He saw my side of it and started think it could be. And, knowing how we felt about each other. The fact we didn't want to ever live apart from each other again. He asked, and I said yes. But, he did want to ask my dad. That happened about a month later while I was in Southern California for a family reunion. My dad, his girlfriend at the time and I all went to dinner and thats when Eric called and talked to my dad. Sitting right there, in front of me, my dad said "of course" and told Eric how much he liked him and that he knew he'd take care of me. So, easy as it could be, we were engaged.
We didn't want a huge elaborate wedding. We wanted something easy and fun. I didn't have your traditional wedding dress either. I had a dress made by a lady in Thailand that was nice and kind of little a summer dress. The week before we got married, we had our "Familymoon". We flew Eric's 3 boys out from Missouri and we all (along with my dad, step mom, brother, nephew, Erics parents, his sister and her family and his brother and his family) went to Disneyland. My step mom got us a room in the amazing Grand Californian Hotel there at Disneyland. It was amazing! We had 2 nights there and barely saw the room, but the boys had fun and so did we. After Disneyland, we drove back home and got ready for the wedding. We got married on August 2nd, 2013 at Jodar Wine Tasting Room in front of about 50 family and close friends. It was a short and to the point wedding. Our friend Mark married us. Another friend played the ukulele. And then later that afternoon, our reception was simple and at my brother in law and sister in laws house. That night, we stayed in a hotel room and had Taco Bell tacos and some rum and cokes while opening cards. The next morning was what we called part of the wedding also. The Color Run! It was so much fun and my dad, even though he didn't do it with us, he came with my nephew before leaving to go home and watched us. Taking pictures. I'll tell you, it was a wonderful weekend. The rest of the time the boys were with us we went to Tahoe for my birthday and also to San Fransisco and Pacifica a few days later. Before the boys had to go home later in the week. It was a great 3 weeks with them.
In February 2014, we decided to start trying for a baby. Come the end of May that year, we found we were expecting, only to lose it a few weeks later at 6 weeks along. We waited a few months and then tried again. On September 11th I had a feeling I was pregnant again. I was feeling off and was a few days late. But, I was in Fresno for a Perfectly Posh event and couldn't find out. So, I waited until the next morning. Come to find out, my intuition was right. We were expecting again. This one was going great! Each appointment there was a strong heartbeat and I was having that dreaded morning sickness. On November 13th we had out 12 week appointment. We were so excited to see how big it had gotten and to heart that strong heartbeat again. Then, as my doctor kept looking at the screen, not saying anything, I knew something was wrong. He couldn't hide it on his face. He turned the monitor to show us and explained that there was no heartbeat and that it was only measuring at 10 weeks. That our little baby stopped growing at 10 weeks. We were devastated. And, especially me, since I had to wait for an appointment to have my baby taken out of me. Unfortunately, that day never came. Before my scheduled appointment, I started to bleed and have horrible back pains and lower abdomen pains. Looking back, I think I was going into labor. My body was trying to get rid of it naturally. A trip to the ER and an amazing doctor there, we finally had our baby. If only for a few moments. She was tiny, but we had her. After that, I was really devastated. Emotional. And still in pain. That even left me with a horrible pain in my lower back that seemed to never go away. As if losing your baby wasn't enough, the aftermath with the horrible back pain made it even worse.
After that, I decided we will try one more time. That was all I thought I could handle. And, come the end of February 2015, I was pregnant again. This time we only told my parents, 2 of my friends Karen and Kristy, and Erics sister and family. It was tough to keep a secret, but I wanted to spare myself the heartbreak of telling people it didn't make it should that had happen. Then, on Mothers day, at 14 weeks along, we announced to everybody that we were, in fact, expecting a baby boy. We announced it with a picture of the dogs and my belly. It felt good to finally have told everybody. To not have that secret. This pregnancy was going great too. The only issue was at this point the protein levels in my urine were getting high, slowly. Every prenatal appointment they would get higher but my blood pressure was low. Really low. Around 100/68. Finally, on August 10th, my doctor was so concerned that he called and got me an appointment for that day with a Nephrologist (kidney doctor). I went to her, she ordered more lab work. Throughout that week the test results were coming back normal. Finally, on Sunday, August 16th, while working overtime, she called. She told me that everything was coming back normal until this last test. This last test said that my bone marrow was producing abnormal protein which was backing up into my kidneys. She told me she has referred me over to a hematologist/oncologist and they would be calling me to make an appointment. That Wednesday, August 19th, Eric and I walked into that appointment not knowing anything really. Only what we had read online because we didn't know what was going on. We were thinking Leukemia. The doctor came in, and explained to us what had been found, and that is was malignant. It was Multiple Myeloma. Me, being the emotional person I am, immediately started to tear up. I tried to be strong, but I couldn't. Which my doctor measured me was ok. To go ahead and cry or do whatever I needed to do. He told us how there is no cure right now but there is really good treatment. That appointment ended with me having a bone marrow biopsy (BMB) and Eric & leaving to go get the prescriptions I would be taking until I could have chemo after Brandon was born.
Because of the cancer, I ended up with a new OB. A high risk pregnancy OB. She was amazing! I wish I could have her as my regular OB but she is only for high risk pregnancies. Not that my current one isn't good. He's great also, but she made us felt at home and welcome and like everything was going to be ok from the very beginning. Part of all of this was the possibility that I would have to have Brandon somewhere between 30 and 32 weeks. Which meant a NICU stay. Then, as things went on, both she and my Oncologist left it up to me to decide when we would have him. Since, one thing this cancer causes is bone lesions, and I had them. In my lumbar and T12 region. I started twice a week fetal monitoring and once every other week prenatal appointments. We had a c-section scheduled for 34 weeks, and since I was feeling pretty well and my bak wasn't hurting that bad, we decided to cancel that appointment and left it to me to tell her when my back was ready. It only took another week. My back started to hurt something fierce the Thursday before my next appointment with her. So, at that appointment, I told her what was going on and we made the appointment for my c-section for that following Tuesday, October 6th. Eric and I had a maternity photo shoot with my amazing friend Brian and then our last dinner alone at Outback afterwards (they had an all you can eat shrimp deal I knew Eric would love). We got things ready that weekend. Finished the nursery, packed my bag and made sure to have a going home outfit packed for Brandon. All the things you would do should you be getting ready for any birth. C-section, natural, full term, early. Then, on Monday night, we had dinner at my brother in law and sister in laws house. Just us and our niece. Talking about how excited we were for the next day. And that we would let them know when we were set in our room and ready for visitors. Our last visit with them just us. All of us excited for the 6th.
Eric and I couldn't sleep that night. We were too excited. We managed to get some, but we were up at 6am. Before the alarm went off. So, we got up and had our last morning just us and the puppies. We had to be at the hospital at 10am, so we finally got ready, packed the car, and off we went to the hospital. We got there and got great parking and walked in, excited and holding hands. Immediately went back and started admitting paperwork and off to our room we went. I have to say, all of our nurses we had that day, and the few days after, were amazing! Especially that day though. She was there with us the whole time. At 12:20 I walked to the surgical room. Got my spinal tap. Played down. Eric came in as they were cutting me open and at 12:46pm, with Eric watching (because he loves this medical stuff) our little 6 pound 7 ounce 19 1/4 inches long baby boy was born. That first cry I heard brought happy tears to my eyes. Tears I was trying to hold back, but couldn't. Eric went over and got to watch him being cleaned up, weighed, then wrapped up and the nurses brought him over to me. He was beautiful. Our little man who saved his mommy's life was here. One thing I forgot to mention, we did have NICU nurses in the room with us. While I was holding Brandon, I realized the room was a little more empty. We asked if he had to go to NICU and the answer was no. He was healthy, had great lungs and everything was looking great on him. I didn't have to wait to see him more. I was going to be going to my room with my baby boy.
Since his birth, everything has been a blur and whirlwind. Just over a month after having him I started my chemo treatments. Within a month my numbers were down from 5000 to 500. Now, after 5 cycles down and starting my 6th cycle today, I am hovering around 6 or 8 to 16 or 17 and have my SCT scheduled for June 6th. My life has been pretty normal, for the most part. But I don't think I would change anything. It made me who I am today. And that person, though sometimes stubborn, obnoxious and emotional, is a pretty good person over all.
The next few years were pretty uneventful, with the exception of an engagement that ended in me finding him cheating, with many different girls. That was a tough time. I would like to think I had been a pretty good judge of character and have no clue why I would have fallen for somebody like him. The thing about him that gave away the cheating was that his lies were not adding up. The places he said he was he really wasn't. The jobs he said he was doing, he really wasn't. And the biggest one was his ex and mother of his oldest son. He said he was going to see his son and staying in a hotel, he wasn't there. And then I saw the Facebook post of hers that they were engaged. He couldn't lie good enough for me. Maybe his lies were good enough for the other girls, but he forgot I some things I told him. And the fact that I paid the phone bill. In the end, I kicked him out and even took him to court. Of course, he still hasn't paid the judgement, and I know I will never see a dime, but knowing he really didn't get away with anything he did to me, thats good enough. I learned from that mistake. It made me a stronger person. The person I am today.
A few months later, February 2011, I met the man who would become my husband and father of my baby boy. Eric and I met on Chemistry.com. We e-mailed a few times on the site, and then took it to our personal e-mails and eventually phone calls. Long phone calls. Our first one was about 3 hours long. And we didn't have those long awkward pauses. We talked. About everything and anything. Then, on February 15th we had our first date at Macaroni Grill in Folsom. This date was so different from any date I had ever been on before. A typical date for me would be coffee or dinner and the conversation would be boring or almost non existent. Not that I didn't try, the guy would not be as interesting or wouldn't try in person. But, this date with Eric, like our phone calls, was all about conversation. We were so into the conversation that we got a little annoyed that the waiter kept coming by and asking how we were. We know he was doing his job, but we wanted to talk and not be interrupted. As dinner was ending, we didn't want the date to end. So, we decided to head down to Old Sacramento to walk around, but as we got outside, we found it pouring rain. Like puddles everywhere so hard it was almost like it was rocks pelting you. Plans changed and we ended up driving around Sacramento. He showed me all the places he lived around the area and where he went to school. He showed me where his best friend in high school lived and where his aunt lived. Then, we decided to go bowling. It was probably about 11pm at this point, but we honestly lost all track of time. We were genuinely enjoying our time together. The conversation was still going strong. We played a few frames and then decided at about 1am that we should probably go get my car. As we got back to my car, we still sat in the truck for about another hour just talking. Finally, we decided I needed to get going since I still had a 45 minute drive home. Moments after getting in my car and pulling out of the parking lot, my phone rings and it was him. He kept me company all the way home. When we finally hung up when I got home, I remember thinking to myself "Did this night just happen? Did I really have this amazing date full of conversation that seemed neither of us wanted to end?" I had a "perm grin" on my face. It felt good. Especially after the crap engagement I had. It almost felt too good to be true.
As most relationships have, we had our ups and downs. Nothing is perfect, and if it were, what fun would that be? Eric and mines relationship was real. We talked. We had fun doing nothing together. It was everything I had always wanted in a relationship. On our one year anniversary he kinda surprised me with a trip overnight to Tahoe. It was a great trip at that too. Fun, relaxing, just what we both needed. I say kinda surprised because I needed to know some of what we were going to do since I would need to find somebody to watch Kailua. Otherwise, it was a surprise. A great surprise. Our drive up was beautiful with all the snow. And we drove home going through Emerald Bay and up to North Lake Tahoe to hit Interstate 80. Everything was still going well. I was shocked really. Usually I find something wrong at this point, and I couldn't. Come Christmas 2012 we got to talking and decided to get married. He did ask, but I really didn't need some extravagant proposal. We were sitting on the couch, having some wine and watching a movie that we probably paused a million times (which is normal for us because we will start talking...or, really, I will start talking) and I told him my concern for the event that happened that day. He saw my side of it and started think it could be. And, knowing how we felt about each other. The fact we didn't want to ever live apart from each other again. He asked, and I said yes. But, he did want to ask my dad. That happened about a month later while I was in Southern California for a family reunion. My dad, his girlfriend at the time and I all went to dinner and thats when Eric called and talked to my dad. Sitting right there, in front of me, my dad said "of course" and told Eric how much he liked him and that he knew he'd take care of me. So, easy as it could be, we were engaged.
We didn't want a huge elaborate wedding. We wanted something easy and fun. I didn't have your traditional wedding dress either. I had a dress made by a lady in Thailand that was nice and kind of little a summer dress. The week before we got married, we had our "Familymoon". We flew Eric's 3 boys out from Missouri and we all (along with my dad, step mom, brother, nephew, Erics parents, his sister and her family and his brother and his family) went to Disneyland. My step mom got us a room in the amazing Grand Californian Hotel there at Disneyland. It was amazing! We had 2 nights there and barely saw the room, but the boys had fun and so did we. After Disneyland, we drove back home and got ready for the wedding. We got married on August 2nd, 2013 at Jodar Wine Tasting Room in front of about 50 family and close friends. It was a short and to the point wedding. Our friend Mark married us. Another friend played the ukulele. And then later that afternoon, our reception was simple and at my brother in law and sister in laws house. That night, we stayed in a hotel room and had Taco Bell tacos and some rum and cokes while opening cards. The next morning was what we called part of the wedding also. The Color Run! It was so much fun and my dad, even though he didn't do it with us, he came with my nephew before leaving to go home and watched us. Taking pictures. I'll tell you, it was a wonderful weekend. The rest of the time the boys were with us we went to Tahoe for my birthday and also to San Fransisco and Pacifica a few days later. Before the boys had to go home later in the week. It was a great 3 weeks with them.
In February 2014, we decided to start trying for a baby. Come the end of May that year, we found we were expecting, only to lose it a few weeks later at 6 weeks along. We waited a few months and then tried again. On September 11th I had a feeling I was pregnant again. I was feeling off and was a few days late. But, I was in Fresno for a Perfectly Posh event and couldn't find out. So, I waited until the next morning. Come to find out, my intuition was right. We were expecting again. This one was going great! Each appointment there was a strong heartbeat and I was having that dreaded morning sickness. On November 13th we had out 12 week appointment. We were so excited to see how big it had gotten and to heart that strong heartbeat again. Then, as my doctor kept looking at the screen, not saying anything, I knew something was wrong. He couldn't hide it on his face. He turned the monitor to show us and explained that there was no heartbeat and that it was only measuring at 10 weeks. That our little baby stopped growing at 10 weeks. We were devastated. And, especially me, since I had to wait for an appointment to have my baby taken out of me. Unfortunately, that day never came. Before my scheduled appointment, I started to bleed and have horrible back pains and lower abdomen pains. Looking back, I think I was going into labor. My body was trying to get rid of it naturally. A trip to the ER and an amazing doctor there, we finally had our baby. If only for a few moments. She was tiny, but we had her. After that, I was really devastated. Emotional. And still in pain. That even left me with a horrible pain in my lower back that seemed to never go away. As if losing your baby wasn't enough, the aftermath with the horrible back pain made it even worse.
After that, I decided we will try one more time. That was all I thought I could handle. And, come the end of February 2015, I was pregnant again. This time we only told my parents, 2 of my friends Karen and Kristy, and Erics sister and family. It was tough to keep a secret, but I wanted to spare myself the heartbreak of telling people it didn't make it should that had happen. Then, on Mothers day, at 14 weeks along, we announced to everybody that we were, in fact, expecting a baby boy. We announced it with a picture of the dogs and my belly. It felt good to finally have told everybody. To not have that secret. This pregnancy was going great too. The only issue was at this point the protein levels in my urine were getting high, slowly. Every prenatal appointment they would get higher but my blood pressure was low. Really low. Around 100/68. Finally, on August 10th, my doctor was so concerned that he called and got me an appointment for that day with a Nephrologist (kidney doctor). I went to her, she ordered more lab work. Throughout that week the test results were coming back normal. Finally, on Sunday, August 16th, while working overtime, she called. She told me that everything was coming back normal until this last test. This last test said that my bone marrow was producing abnormal protein which was backing up into my kidneys. She told me she has referred me over to a hematologist/oncologist and they would be calling me to make an appointment. That Wednesday, August 19th, Eric and I walked into that appointment not knowing anything really. Only what we had read online because we didn't know what was going on. We were thinking Leukemia. The doctor came in, and explained to us what had been found, and that is was malignant. It was Multiple Myeloma. Me, being the emotional person I am, immediately started to tear up. I tried to be strong, but I couldn't. Which my doctor measured me was ok. To go ahead and cry or do whatever I needed to do. He told us how there is no cure right now but there is really good treatment. That appointment ended with me having a bone marrow biopsy (BMB) and Eric & leaving to go get the prescriptions I would be taking until I could have chemo after Brandon was born.
Because of the cancer, I ended up with a new OB. A high risk pregnancy OB. She was amazing! I wish I could have her as my regular OB but she is only for high risk pregnancies. Not that my current one isn't good. He's great also, but she made us felt at home and welcome and like everything was going to be ok from the very beginning. Part of all of this was the possibility that I would have to have Brandon somewhere between 30 and 32 weeks. Which meant a NICU stay. Then, as things went on, both she and my Oncologist left it up to me to decide when we would have him. Since, one thing this cancer causes is bone lesions, and I had them. In my lumbar and T12 region. I started twice a week fetal monitoring and once every other week prenatal appointments. We had a c-section scheduled for 34 weeks, and since I was feeling pretty well and my bak wasn't hurting that bad, we decided to cancel that appointment and left it to me to tell her when my back was ready. It only took another week. My back started to hurt something fierce the Thursday before my next appointment with her. So, at that appointment, I told her what was going on and we made the appointment for my c-section for that following Tuesday, October 6th. Eric and I had a maternity photo shoot with my amazing friend Brian and then our last dinner alone at Outback afterwards (they had an all you can eat shrimp deal I knew Eric would love). We got things ready that weekend. Finished the nursery, packed my bag and made sure to have a going home outfit packed for Brandon. All the things you would do should you be getting ready for any birth. C-section, natural, full term, early. Then, on Monday night, we had dinner at my brother in law and sister in laws house. Just us and our niece. Talking about how excited we were for the next day. And that we would let them know when we were set in our room and ready for visitors. Our last visit with them just us. All of us excited for the 6th.
Eric and I couldn't sleep that night. We were too excited. We managed to get some, but we were up at 6am. Before the alarm went off. So, we got up and had our last morning just us and the puppies. We had to be at the hospital at 10am, so we finally got ready, packed the car, and off we went to the hospital. We got there and got great parking and walked in, excited and holding hands. Immediately went back and started admitting paperwork and off to our room we went. I have to say, all of our nurses we had that day, and the few days after, were amazing! Especially that day though. She was there with us the whole time. At 12:20 I walked to the surgical room. Got my spinal tap. Played down. Eric came in as they were cutting me open and at 12:46pm, with Eric watching (because he loves this medical stuff) our little 6 pound 7 ounce 19 1/4 inches long baby boy was born. That first cry I heard brought happy tears to my eyes. Tears I was trying to hold back, but couldn't. Eric went over and got to watch him being cleaned up, weighed, then wrapped up and the nurses brought him over to me. He was beautiful. Our little man who saved his mommy's life was here. One thing I forgot to mention, we did have NICU nurses in the room with us. While I was holding Brandon, I realized the room was a little more empty. We asked if he had to go to NICU and the answer was no. He was healthy, had great lungs and everything was looking great on him. I didn't have to wait to see him more. I was going to be going to my room with my baby boy.
Since his birth, everything has been a blur and whirlwind. Just over a month after having him I started my chemo treatments. Within a month my numbers were down from 5000 to 500. Now, after 5 cycles down and starting my 6th cycle today, I am hovering around 6 or 8 to 16 or 17 and have my SCT scheduled for June 6th. My life has been pretty normal, for the most part. But I don't think I would change anything. It made me who I am today. And that person, though sometimes stubborn, obnoxious and emotional, is a pretty good person over all.
Monday, March 28, 2016
A Little About Me - Part 2
I left you with the start of my college years. Which really wasn't that productive. I went to school, swam, played water polo, and worked. That was my life for 2 years. I was getting bored and knew that I wasn't ready to transfer to a 4 year school. I felt like I needed a break from school since I had been going non stop since the start in pre-school. A friend of mine was joining the Army. I went with her to talk to her recruiter and decided that I too wanted to join the Army, but I didn't want to go full time. I wanted to join the reserves. I spoke to the recruiter and ended up signing up about a week later. I went to MEPS and took the ASVAB and then went through the physical and the search for a job. I knew I had scored high enough to do something in medical and when I sat down with the person who helps you look for a job, they tried to give me a desk job. I told them what I wanted and I knew I qualified for and they still tried to give me the same job. It took me standing up to walk out for them to "find" me a medical job. May 1998 I left for boot camp at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. Then, from there I was off to Fort Sam Houston, Texas for my medic training. When I was in, it was a 91B. That was the job title/code. A combat medic. I will say, I have made some amazing friends while I was in training and even my unit I was in when I got back home. My time in training, both boot camp and medic school wasn't really that notable. I learned a lot. Had fun learning. It was both physically and mentally challenging to me and I loved that. I came home from medic school October 1998. The following month I went to my first weekend drill. We really didn't have a lot we did there on our weekend drills. Classes, inventory, PT, and of course, at night we would go out. This company was an ambulance company. I went to my first 2 week annual training that following June (1999). We went to El Paso, Texas. My first 2 weeks and I will be honest, I had a lot of fun. We had trainings with the local fire department and runs back and forth between El Paso and a small base in New Mexico. It was definitely a good experience. Come October, I got a phone call from my unit saying they needed volunteers to go to Hawaii for another 2 week training in November. If I went to that one, I wouldn't have to go to Fort Polk, Louisiana in June. So, of course I jumped on that! To be paid to be in Hawaii and also a flight to Hawaii? No problem!! I will have to say, that was probably the best training I ever went to. We were in "combat" mode for a full week. Actually doing our jobs. I felt good after getting back from that training. I was there in that unit until I switched to a unit closer to home where we did physicals every drill weekend. I loved that unit because we were busy all weekend and it made time go by. I was physically doing my job I learned. I was working in the lab mainly drawing blood and doing the urine specimen. Eventually I moved to Northern California and another new unit. That unit made me bored compared to the other 2. We absolutely nothing. No training, no classes, no nothing. It was a field hospital unit. Shortly after that I was out of the Army Reserves. I fulfilled my time. The whole thing was a great experience, although, I couldn't say I would do it again.
As I mentioned above, I moved to Northern California. In March 2001 I moved to the Sacramento area with my then boyfriend. He got a job offer up here and I decided to go with him when he asked me to. We lived in Rancho Cordova for about 7 1/2 months when he was offered a position in the Nevada City area with his department. So, we moved up there. This was after September 11, 2001. And things were much different immediately. Not in our relationship, but in the world. You could tell. So, being in Nevada City was nice. Away from the city and so quiet and relaxing up there. It felt "normal". Like pre 9/11. It was there in Nevada City that I got my first State job. I was a park aide for California State Parks. It was a nice change from what I had been doing when we moved there which was working at the grocery store. I was back to what I considered "normal" for me in a job. Working weekends and holidays. And of course all summer. I was back in what would be considered public safety. I worked there from about April until October 2002. Then I got my second State job. A dispatcher for Caltrans working in the snow. I worked out of the winter dispatch center at Kingvale dispatching for the guys and gals on the road plowing the snow and also setting up the chain controls. Both of those state jobs I did for 2 seasons each. Until Caltrans picked me up for more hours working in Rancho Cordova at their 24 hour dispatch center. During that time, we decided to move to a more central location for both of us. He was now working in Auburn and since I was in Rancho Cordova, we decided to move to Rocklin. It was a much better and easier drive after a graveyard shift for sure. I also bought my first car while we lived in Nevada City. Brand new 2004 (it was August 2004) Saturn Ion. I was so proud because I had been saving my overtime money and putting even some other money aside each month. I was able to put $10,000 down on a $17,000 car. It felt good.
I eventually applied for and got a job with CHP as a dispatcher. I took to the call taking very fast. Getting the information we needed from the callers and moving on was pretty easy for me. The radio, on the other hand, took me a while. Finally I had great trainers who really took the time to help me and I finally got it. I had a fear of what would happen to an officer if I messed up a call or didn't put out enough information. Eventually I got over that fear. I had some crazy calls and even got two commendables in my 1 /2 years there. One for answering over 800 calls in a 4 hour period of overtime during a huge storm over New Years 2005-2006 and the other was for answering a call where somebody didn't give me any information, taking down the number that came up on caller ID and having somebody else do a cell trace since I was working a radio at the time. Ended up being the noise I heard on the phone was a miter saw and the lady killed herself. As I look back and remember that call and my time there at CHP, I didn't like the person I was becoming. I was numb. I was become something I wasn't. I was becoming a robot and cynical. Nothing bothered me and I really had no emotion. On my days off I didn't want to do anything. So, my job offer from California State Parks doing the same thing came at a good time.
I started with California State Parks on June 1, 2006. A few days later my first nephew was born. June 4, 2006. I was so excited. A new job. I was a brand new aunt. What could possibly go wrong? Well, after 6 years together, my boyfriend I moved to this area with and I broke up. Even though I was hurt and hated him at that time, it was a mutual break up. It was a good thing too. I had been saving my overtime checks again and had over $17,000 saved up again. So, the day after the break up, my friend Becky came over and got me and we went looking for apartments for me. The first one I found I got. And 3 weeks later I moved in. I was finally living on my own after moving from my parents house in with a boyfriend. It was tough at first, but eventually it felt good. It felt good to finally be on my own.
In 2008 my parents helped me buy my first house. I ended up buying a new build condo in Lincoln where I live now. I loved being able to pick out everything inside. From flooring, to the blinds, the cabinets, tile, and counters. Everything. I saw it go up from frame to the home I live in now. After watching it go up, I got the keys and moved in on September 28, 2008. That was the most exciting day to date at that time. So many emotions went through me. When I got the keys, I drove over, pulled into the garage, closed the garage door and went inside my new home. After going through the place and looking at each room, I went back down stairs, played in the middle of the floor in the living room and just stared at the ceiling. My arms and legs were out like a sea star. As I lay there I thought to myself "This is all mine. This is my home."
This seems to be a good place to pause and have a part 3 later. So, a little about me is to be continued...
As I mentioned above, I moved to Northern California. In March 2001 I moved to the Sacramento area with my then boyfriend. He got a job offer up here and I decided to go with him when he asked me to. We lived in Rancho Cordova for about 7 1/2 months when he was offered a position in the Nevada City area with his department. So, we moved up there. This was after September 11, 2001. And things were much different immediately. Not in our relationship, but in the world. You could tell. So, being in Nevada City was nice. Away from the city and so quiet and relaxing up there. It felt "normal". Like pre 9/11. It was there in Nevada City that I got my first State job. I was a park aide for California State Parks. It was a nice change from what I had been doing when we moved there which was working at the grocery store. I was back to what I considered "normal" for me in a job. Working weekends and holidays. And of course all summer. I was back in what would be considered public safety. I worked there from about April until October 2002. Then I got my second State job. A dispatcher for Caltrans working in the snow. I worked out of the winter dispatch center at Kingvale dispatching for the guys and gals on the road plowing the snow and also setting up the chain controls. Both of those state jobs I did for 2 seasons each. Until Caltrans picked me up for more hours working in Rancho Cordova at their 24 hour dispatch center. During that time, we decided to move to a more central location for both of us. He was now working in Auburn and since I was in Rancho Cordova, we decided to move to Rocklin. It was a much better and easier drive after a graveyard shift for sure. I also bought my first car while we lived in Nevada City. Brand new 2004 (it was August 2004) Saturn Ion. I was so proud because I had been saving my overtime money and putting even some other money aside each month. I was able to put $10,000 down on a $17,000 car. It felt good.
I eventually applied for and got a job with CHP as a dispatcher. I took to the call taking very fast. Getting the information we needed from the callers and moving on was pretty easy for me. The radio, on the other hand, took me a while. Finally I had great trainers who really took the time to help me and I finally got it. I had a fear of what would happen to an officer if I messed up a call or didn't put out enough information. Eventually I got over that fear. I had some crazy calls and even got two commendables in my 1 /2 years there. One for answering over 800 calls in a 4 hour period of overtime during a huge storm over New Years 2005-2006 and the other was for answering a call where somebody didn't give me any information, taking down the number that came up on caller ID and having somebody else do a cell trace since I was working a radio at the time. Ended up being the noise I heard on the phone was a miter saw and the lady killed herself. As I look back and remember that call and my time there at CHP, I didn't like the person I was becoming. I was numb. I was become something I wasn't. I was becoming a robot and cynical. Nothing bothered me and I really had no emotion. On my days off I didn't want to do anything. So, my job offer from California State Parks doing the same thing came at a good time.
I started with California State Parks on June 1, 2006. A few days later my first nephew was born. June 4, 2006. I was so excited. A new job. I was a brand new aunt. What could possibly go wrong? Well, after 6 years together, my boyfriend I moved to this area with and I broke up. Even though I was hurt and hated him at that time, it was a mutual break up. It was a good thing too. I had been saving my overtime checks again and had over $17,000 saved up again. So, the day after the break up, my friend Becky came over and got me and we went looking for apartments for me. The first one I found I got. And 3 weeks later I moved in. I was finally living on my own after moving from my parents house in with a boyfriend. It was tough at first, but eventually it felt good. It felt good to finally be on my own.
In 2008 my parents helped me buy my first house. I ended up buying a new build condo in Lincoln where I live now. I loved being able to pick out everything inside. From flooring, to the blinds, the cabinets, tile, and counters. Everything. I saw it go up from frame to the home I live in now. After watching it go up, I got the keys and moved in on September 28, 2008. That was the most exciting day to date at that time. So many emotions went through me. When I got the keys, I drove over, pulled into the garage, closed the garage door and went inside my new home. After going through the place and looking at each room, I went back down stairs, played in the middle of the floor in the living room and just stared at the ceiling. My arms and legs were out like a sea star. As I lay there I thought to myself "This is all mine. This is my home."
This seems to be a good place to pause and have a part 3 later. So, a little about me is to be continued...
Sunday, March 27, 2016
A Little About Me - Part 1
I wanted to tell you a little about me. For those who do not know me and those who know me, but not a lot about me.
My name is Kristine Beard. Or, Krissy to some people and Kris from others. My maiden name was May. So there are still some friends who will call me May. I am 37 years old and work for the State of California as a law enforcement dispatcher. I cherish my friendships and love my family. And that's just an overview.
Born in Southern California at Little Company of Mary hospital in Torrance in August 1978. I have a younger brother who was born just over 3 years later in October 1981 named Lucas. I don't remember the year or exactly when it was, but my parents divorced when I was young and we spent our evenings/nights with my mom and days with my dad who worked graveyard driving trucks around LAX airport picking up and delivering freight. Being with him during the day was great because we would go for bike rides to the beach (he lived in Redondo Beach about a block from the beach), swim at the beach, go to different museums and parks or whatever else he thought of for us to do. Then my mom moved us to Yuma, AZ to be closer to a lot of her family. I don't remember much from that time other than missing my dad a lot. After some time, my brother and I ended up moving back to California to live with my dad. That is where my life really began. At least what I can remember.
I remember little pieces of going to school in Anaheim near my aunt and uncle's house (my dads sister and brother in law). Then eventually we moved to Lakewood, California. And that is where is really starts. I can remember most everything from second grade on. I went to Stephen Foster elementary school for second and third grade. Then, the school district opened up another school closer to our home and I went there. Craig Williams elementary school. I remember being so happy about fourth grade because I had the same amazing teacher I had in third grade. He changed to teaching fourth grade and came to the new school. Mr Hollenbeck. He made learning fun. Brought comedy into learning and a lot of hands on activities. On Fridays our class and Mr Whalen's class would go to the cafeteria after last recess for music time. Mr Hollenbeck would play his guitar and all of us kids would sing. The song that sticks out is "Surfing' In the U.S.A." by the Beach Boys. We had all different motions to do while singing. The rest of my elementary days were not that mentionable. Don't get me wrong, I actually loved my teachers, but nothing as stand out as Mr Hollenbeck.
Next up was High School. I went to the same junior/senior high from 7th-12th grade. In junior high school I was awkward. I was taller than everybody for the most part and developing already. Not to mention the acne. I was not a pretty sight (although my husband Eric would beg to differ from the pictures he has seen of me from that time). High school came and I started to take photography. I loved it. So much so, that I continued to take it until I graduated. And that teacher, Mr Sandquist, was also amazing. Really helped me learn a lot and even lived down the street from me. I ended up being one of his teachers aides both my Junior and Senior years. Also, starting in 10th grade I ran cross country. I decided to do a school sport but didn't think I would be good enough for soft ball, basketball or volleyball. And I personally didn't want to be a cheerleader. I was a tomboy. Give me sports and I was good. I hated wearing skirts and dresses. It was jeans and shorts for me. I guess I had a pretty decent high school experience. I wasn't popular and that was fine by me. I had my small group of friends and loved our lunches and even weekends together.
Throughout my childhood and teenage years I was in sports. My parents (dad and step-mom) put us in every sport possible and let us pick what we really took to and stuck with. For me, that was swimming. Giving me water and I was a happy little fish, or dolphin since that is my favorite mammal. My high school didn't have a swim team, so I was on a club team. But, as I got into high school and my own school sports, I had to quit swimming. Which I tried to pick up again my senior year. That proved to be too much since I was now working as a lifeguard and swim instructor at the local YMCA. I decided to become a lifeguard as my first job because of a few summers I spent as a junior lifeguard at the beach in Long Beach. It was probably one of the best experiences in my life to that date. Not many kids can be a junior lifeguard let alone WANT to. I wanted to. And I ended up doing it for 5 years.
After high school I went on to Long Beach City College. There I was lucky enough to swim for the school and also play water polo. My freshman year there was the first year the women water polo team was a collegiate team that counted in the conference. It was a great experience. Honestly, before then, I had never played water polo. So it felt good that I was able to be on the team. And a good team too. I wasn't great. Nothing at all compared to my teammates who played in high school, but I feel I was good enough to be able to play. And I did. I went on to play 2 seasons there at Long Beach City College and also in a summer league with my teammates. Then, I haven't played since then. Well, except for the one alumni game at University of the Pacific with my friend and her old team there about 5 years ago. And I felt like I was going to drown after that. But still fun.
I think now is a good stopping point for this post. There is so much more to go and to keep from boring you with a long post, I'll cut it here for now. Besides, today is Easter and I should get to my little family and also shower so we can get going to my brother & sister in law's house. So, for now, Happy Easter!
My name is Kristine Beard. Or, Krissy to some people and Kris from others. My maiden name was May. So there are still some friends who will call me May. I am 37 years old and work for the State of California as a law enforcement dispatcher. I cherish my friendships and love my family. And that's just an overview.
Born in Southern California at Little Company of Mary hospital in Torrance in August 1978. I have a younger brother who was born just over 3 years later in October 1981 named Lucas. I don't remember the year or exactly when it was, but my parents divorced when I was young and we spent our evenings/nights with my mom and days with my dad who worked graveyard driving trucks around LAX airport picking up and delivering freight. Being with him during the day was great because we would go for bike rides to the beach (he lived in Redondo Beach about a block from the beach), swim at the beach, go to different museums and parks or whatever else he thought of for us to do. Then my mom moved us to Yuma, AZ to be closer to a lot of her family. I don't remember much from that time other than missing my dad a lot. After some time, my brother and I ended up moving back to California to live with my dad. That is where my life really began. At least what I can remember.
I remember little pieces of going to school in Anaheim near my aunt and uncle's house (my dads sister and brother in law). Then eventually we moved to Lakewood, California. And that is where is really starts. I can remember most everything from second grade on. I went to Stephen Foster elementary school for second and third grade. Then, the school district opened up another school closer to our home and I went there. Craig Williams elementary school. I remember being so happy about fourth grade because I had the same amazing teacher I had in third grade. He changed to teaching fourth grade and came to the new school. Mr Hollenbeck. He made learning fun. Brought comedy into learning and a lot of hands on activities. On Fridays our class and Mr Whalen's class would go to the cafeteria after last recess for music time. Mr Hollenbeck would play his guitar and all of us kids would sing. The song that sticks out is "Surfing' In the U.S.A." by the Beach Boys. We had all different motions to do while singing. The rest of my elementary days were not that mentionable. Don't get me wrong, I actually loved my teachers, but nothing as stand out as Mr Hollenbeck.
Next up was High School. I went to the same junior/senior high from 7th-12th grade. In junior high school I was awkward. I was taller than everybody for the most part and developing already. Not to mention the acne. I was not a pretty sight (although my husband Eric would beg to differ from the pictures he has seen of me from that time). High school came and I started to take photography. I loved it. So much so, that I continued to take it until I graduated. And that teacher, Mr Sandquist, was also amazing. Really helped me learn a lot and even lived down the street from me. I ended up being one of his teachers aides both my Junior and Senior years. Also, starting in 10th grade I ran cross country. I decided to do a school sport but didn't think I would be good enough for soft ball, basketball or volleyball. And I personally didn't want to be a cheerleader. I was a tomboy. Give me sports and I was good. I hated wearing skirts and dresses. It was jeans and shorts for me. I guess I had a pretty decent high school experience. I wasn't popular and that was fine by me. I had my small group of friends and loved our lunches and even weekends together.
Throughout my childhood and teenage years I was in sports. My parents (dad and step-mom) put us in every sport possible and let us pick what we really took to and stuck with. For me, that was swimming. Giving me water and I was a happy little fish, or dolphin since that is my favorite mammal. My high school didn't have a swim team, so I was on a club team. But, as I got into high school and my own school sports, I had to quit swimming. Which I tried to pick up again my senior year. That proved to be too much since I was now working as a lifeguard and swim instructor at the local YMCA. I decided to become a lifeguard as my first job because of a few summers I spent as a junior lifeguard at the beach in Long Beach. It was probably one of the best experiences in my life to that date. Not many kids can be a junior lifeguard let alone WANT to. I wanted to. And I ended up doing it for 5 years.
After high school I went on to Long Beach City College. There I was lucky enough to swim for the school and also play water polo. My freshman year there was the first year the women water polo team was a collegiate team that counted in the conference. It was a great experience. Honestly, before then, I had never played water polo. So it felt good that I was able to be on the team. And a good team too. I wasn't great. Nothing at all compared to my teammates who played in high school, but I feel I was good enough to be able to play. And I did. I went on to play 2 seasons there at Long Beach City College and also in a summer league with my teammates. Then, I haven't played since then. Well, except for the one alumni game at University of the Pacific with my friend and her old team there about 5 years ago. And I felt like I was going to drown after that. But still fun.
I think now is a good stopping point for this post. There is so much more to go and to keep from boring you with a long post, I'll cut it here for now. Besides, today is Easter and I should get to my little family and also shower so we can get going to my brother & sister in law's house. So, for now, Happy Easter!
Friday, March 25, 2016
Therapy
The definition of therapy: The treatment of physical or mental illness.
This afternoon I thought a lot about therapy. Not the physical kind. The mental kind. And not where you go in and talk to a therapist. The kind where you can be at home and something brings you out of a funk. Out of a low or down point. Yes, my moms with cancer group is a therapy. We help each other in a group setting, but what about when we are at home and don't have those people to talk to? That's when I started to think "What kind of therapy do I have at home?"
My son is definitely one of them. Today, he was playing in his exersaucer and I was just watching him play with everything on it. Between trying to put everything in his mouth and just hitting the different "musical" toys on it and cracking up, watching him play and smile and laugh brought a smile to my face. Then, I was caught! He looked up and saw me looking at him and he got a huge smile on his face. Which put a smile on my face. His smile is infectious. You can't help but smile when you see his. His whole face lights up and you can really see how happy he is. After a while, while playing with him on the floor, he fell asleep for a nap. Just watching him lay there and listening to him breathe, it brought a sense of calm over me. Anything bad going on at that moment couldn't take away the calmness I felt. He is my therapy.
Another therapy I have is music. I LOVE listening to music. Mainly calming sounds or artists. My favorite? Colbie Caillat! Hands down. I love her. Her voice and sound calms me and even makes me happy. Her music is so up beat. A few others would be Jack Johnson, John Mayer, Dave Matthews, and Sara Barelleis. Of course, I love all kinds of music. But these are the sounds that help calm me when I am having anxiety or lift me up with the upbeat sound when I am feeling down or depressed. The other music that makes me feel better is when my husband plays his guitar. I don't know if he knows exactly how much it helps. Don't get me wrong, I have told him. Many times. But I don't know if he can see exactly how much his playing helps. And especially when he sets up our son to watch him play and I see the smile they both have on their faces. I really hope through our musical influences, that Brandon loves music also, and maybe has a little bit of a musical bone in him. I am not inclined that way. I can not carry a tune {but will still sing in the car or at home} and can not play an instrument. So, maybe Brandon will get that from Eric.
I then started to think if there was anything else that helps me. Then I remembered art. I may not be able to draw detailed objects or anything like that, but i can look at some easy paintings and copy them or some up with my own rendition of them. I also love to make wreaths {although one can only have so many before they overtake your storage....or you have nowhere else to put them}. Right now I also have a crate project going on. We bought 6 wooden crates at Michaels and I am staining them. Then, we are going to put them together and make a coffee table out of them. We have a coffee table now, but I've had it for years and when I first got one of our dogs, she chewed on parts of it. As some puppies do when you turn your back on them. So, I wanted to make something that is a bit different but with storage. I can't wait to see the finished project. Which means I need to get on it. Since I have about a month to get it finished before the crazy two months of SCT transplant time begins. A few other crafty/artsy therapies I have are cross stitching {which I run into the same issue as with the wreaths...too many to put up anywhere} and photography. Just being outdoors, camera in your hand, finding things in nature to photograph is therapy to me.
Some people run for therapy. Honestly, I've always hated running. Although, in high school I did run cross country. Mainly because we didn't have a swim team. So, for me in the workout sense, I love to swim. There is something about being in the water. Feeling weightless. All your troubles seem to float away, for a lack of a better term. Angry? You can beat it out in the water by doing a hard set, or just a hard lap. "Hitting" the water with your arms. I used to have my Beachbody workouts that I love so much. Mainly Shaun T. He is so motivating and makes you feel like you can do anything and encourages you. But, since my diagnosis 7 months ago and finding out I have compression fractures in my lower back, my doctor {and Eric} feel its better I still to easier workouts on my body like walking and if I can ever get to a pool, swimming. Another way any workout is a therapy? It brings good endorphins into your body. Makes you feel better. Gives you a positive high.
The last therapy I have, is one I have used for years. Even before I was diagnosed with MM. It's helped those achey muscles from workouts or long work days. It helps calm/settle those hard to get rid of headaches. It's simply a long, hot/warm soak in the bath tub. Almost two years ago I became an Independent Consultant for Perfectly Posh. It's a pampering product direct sales company. I love drawing a nice warm bath and adding in some of the calming soothing bath salts or even the bubble bath. The amazing smells from the essential oils in the products really help calm your mood and ease your anxiety or depression. At least for me they do.
As you can see, I did a lot of thinking today on ways that I have therapy in my life. I didn't think I did until I really started to think about it. If you ever feel down or anxious or need something to calm down or relax, just do something you enjoy. Really, thats the conclusion I came to with this thought. Your therapy is usually something you like or love to do already. It's right there under your nose. You shouldn't have to look very far.
This afternoon I thought a lot about therapy. Not the physical kind. The mental kind. And not where you go in and talk to a therapist. The kind where you can be at home and something brings you out of a funk. Out of a low or down point. Yes, my moms with cancer group is a therapy. We help each other in a group setting, but what about when we are at home and don't have those people to talk to? That's when I started to think "What kind of therapy do I have at home?"
My son is definitely one of them. Today, he was playing in his exersaucer and I was just watching him play with everything on it. Between trying to put everything in his mouth and just hitting the different "musical" toys on it and cracking up, watching him play and smile and laugh brought a smile to my face. Then, I was caught! He looked up and saw me looking at him and he got a huge smile on his face. Which put a smile on my face. His smile is infectious. You can't help but smile when you see his. His whole face lights up and you can really see how happy he is. After a while, while playing with him on the floor, he fell asleep for a nap. Just watching him lay there and listening to him breathe, it brought a sense of calm over me. Anything bad going on at that moment couldn't take away the calmness I felt. He is my therapy.
Another therapy I have is music. I LOVE listening to music. Mainly calming sounds or artists. My favorite? Colbie Caillat! Hands down. I love her. Her voice and sound calms me and even makes me happy. Her music is so up beat. A few others would be Jack Johnson, John Mayer, Dave Matthews, and Sara Barelleis. Of course, I love all kinds of music. But these are the sounds that help calm me when I am having anxiety or lift me up with the upbeat sound when I am feeling down or depressed. The other music that makes me feel better is when my husband plays his guitar. I don't know if he knows exactly how much it helps. Don't get me wrong, I have told him. Many times. But I don't know if he can see exactly how much his playing helps. And especially when he sets up our son to watch him play and I see the smile they both have on their faces. I really hope through our musical influences, that Brandon loves music also, and maybe has a little bit of a musical bone in him. I am not inclined that way. I can not carry a tune {but will still sing in the car or at home} and can not play an instrument. So, maybe Brandon will get that from Eric.
I then started to think if there was anything else that helps me. Then I remembered art. I may not be able to draw detailed objects or anything like that, but i can look at some easy paintings and copy them or some up with my own rendition of them. I also love to make wreaths {although one can only have so many before they overtake your storage....or you have nowhere else to put them}. Right now I also have a crate project going on. We bought 6 wooden crates at Michaels and I am staining them. Then, we are going to put them together and make a coffee table out of them. We have a coffee table now, but I've had it for years and when I first got one of our dogs, she chewed on parts of it. As some puppies do when you turn your back on them. So, I wanted to make something that is a bit different but with storage. I can't wait to see the finished project. Which means I need to get on it. Since I have about a month to get it finished before the crazy two months of SCT transplant time begins. A few other crafty/artsy therapies I have are cross stitching {which I run into the same issue as with the wreaths...too many to put up anywhere} and photography. Just being outdoors, camera in your hand, finding things in nature to photograph is therapy to me.
Some people run for therapy. Honestly, I've always hated running. Although, in high school I did run cross country. Mainly because we didn't have a swim team. So, for me in the workout sense, I love to swim. There is something about being in the water. Feeling weightless. All your troubles seem to float away, for a lack of a better term. Angry? You can beat it out in the water by doing a hard set, or just a hard lap. "Hitting" the water with your arms. I used to have my Beachbody workouts that I love so much. Mainly Shaun T. He is so motivating and makes you feel like you can do anything and encourages you. But, since my diagnosis 7 months ago and finding out I have compression fractures in my lower back, my doctor {and Eric} feel its better I still to easier workouts on my body like walking and if I can ever get to a pool, swimming. Another way any workout is a therapy? It brings good endorphins into your body. Makes you feel better. Gives you a positive high.
The last therapy I have, is one I have used for years. Even before I was diagnosed with MM. It's helped those achey muscles from workouts or long work days. It helps calm/settle those hard to get rid of headaches. It's simply a long, hot/warm soak in the bath tub. Almost two years ago I became an Independent Consultant for Perfectly Posh. It's a pampering product direct sales company. I love drawing a nice warm bath and adding in some of the calming soothing bath salts or even the bubble bath. The amazing smells from the essential oils in the products really help calm your mood and ease your anxiety or depression. At least for me they do.
As you can see, I did a lot of thinking today on ways that I have therapy in my life. I didn't think I did until I really started to think about it. If you ever feel down or anxious or need something to calm down or relax, just do something you enjoy. Really, thats the conclusion I came to with this thought. Your therapy is usually something you like or love to do already. It's right there under your nose. You shouldn't have to look very far.
Support Group
There have been a few times in my life where I could have or should have used counseling or a support group. Usually I wouldn't and just work through the situation on my own. I believe counseling is a group tool or outlet, but sometimes I would think that its an embarrassment. That you are admitting to failure or having problems. In the last 7 months since my diagnosis with MM, I have realized it's ok to have problems or fail at something. It means you're not perfect and you don't have to be perfect. That's where todays post comes in.
A month ago the medical social worker in the oncology department at my hospital came to me asking if I'd be interested in a meeting/support group with 2 other new moms who have recently been diagnosed with some kind of cancer. Of course, knowing I wanted to meet other moms and also be able to talk to others about what I'm going through, I said I was interested. Today was our second meeting. Two weeks ago we had our first and only two of us showed up. The third? We found out she was in the hospital due to an infection. We just found that out today, and that she really wanted to be there but couldn't. I know I hope she gets better soon. It can be tiring and lonely being in the hospital for a long time. And, unfortunately, she wasn't able to make it today either.
With this support group, all three of us women have baby boys around the same age. All, at this time, 5-6 months old. All we do is talk about our feelings at that time. With treatment. Our little ones. Our family. Our friends. This week, both myself and the other woman are at about the same feelings. We both are feeling pretty good. Not too much pain. And feeling pretty positive about where we are.
Then, we talked about family traditions with Easter since it's just 3 days away. What we did growing up and what we want to teach our sons. For "A" {I will refer to her by just her first initial}, it was all about church & Jesus. Which, even though I didn't group up going to church, I know that is what Easter is about. Especially with today being Good Friday. She is instilling in her son prayer & teaching him about Jesus. She said they pray together. Of course, he doesn't totally understand right now, but he is learning and he will know what it is they do when they sit down together and hold hands and close their eyes. It is definitely a good feeling knowing you are passing something that means so much to you down to your child.
For me, with my family growing up, it wasn't so much about church as I mentioned before, but it was about family. I remember us going to my step-moms families house. In my younger years, it was my grandma & grandpa Fran & Ken's house. Grandma Fran, and the rest of the family, would all help and cook. Italian meals. Oh my gosh the delicious Italian meals we would have. Usually lasagna and sometimes manicotti. Then there is the salad and other sides. But those rich Italian main dishes were delicious. The past 10 years or so, I haven't had an Easter off to be able to enjoy with my family, until last year. But that Easter was all about my dads side of the family and celebrating a few days early my great aunt Val's 100th birthday. I will talk about her and that amazing day in another post later on. So, this year, since I am off, Eric, Brandon & myself will be going over to my brother in law & sister in law's house and spending it with them and our niece. I will be cooking and decided to treat them, and Eric, to our family tradition growing up. I will be making manicotti. I can not wait to make this dinner for them. It's something, if you can't tell, that I am very excited to share with my new extended family. Not to mention, just spending time with them. We love to spending time with my bil and sil & niece and of course they love to have Brandon around.
Just like with Thanksgiving & Christmas this time around, I feel there is so much to be thankful & happy for this year. So much more than previous years. Not just because of Brandon, but also because you never know what is to come or be. Yes, I am doing very well with my treatments right now and will be having my SCT soon, but anything can happen at any moment. You never know what is to come. Today I feel great! I have very minimal pain. But tomorrow I could wake up and not be able to pick Brandon up. Or even be able to get out of bed without help due to the pain. This support group is helping me & making me realize that it is ok to ask for help. It is ok to admit to your depression and share your emotions. They are all justified and you are not alone. I am not alone in this new journey.
A month ago the medical social worker in the oncology department at my hospital came to me asking if I'd be interested in a meeting/support group with 2 other new moms who have recently been diagnosed with some kind of cancer. Of course, knowing I wanted to meet other moms and also be able to talk to others about what I'm going through, I said I was interested. Today was our second meeting. Two weeks ago we had our first and only two of us showed up. The third? We found out she was in the hospital due to an infection. We just found that out today, and that she really wanted to be there but couldn't. I know I hope she gets better soon. It can be tiring and lonely being in the hospital for a long time. And, unfortunately, she wasn't able to make it today either.
With this support group, all three of us women have baby boys around the same age. All, at this time, 5-6 months old. All we do is talk about our feelings at that time. With treatment. Our little ones. Our family. Our friends. This week, both myself and the other woman are at about the same feelings. We both are feeling pretty good. Not too much pain. And feeling pretty positive about where we are.
Then, we talked about family traditions with Easter since it's just 3 days away. What we did growing up and what we want to teach our sons. For "A" {I will refer to her by just her first initial}, it was all about church & Jesus. Which, even though I didn't group up going to church, I know that is what Easter is about. Especially with today being Good Friday. She is instilling in her son prayer & teaching him about Jesus. She said they pray together. Of course, he doesn't totally understand right now, but he is learning and he will know what it is they do when they sit down together and hold hands and close their eyes. It is definitely a good feeling knowing you are passing something that means so much to you down to your child.
For me, with my family growing up, it wasn't so much about church as I mentioned before, but it was about family. I remember us going to my step-moms families house. In my younger years, it was my grandma & grandpa Fran & Ken's house. Grandma Fran, and the rest of the family, would all help and cook. Italian meals. Oh my gosh the delicious Italian meals we would have. Usually lasagna and sometimes manicotti. Then there is the salad and other sides. But those rich Italian main dishes were delicious. The past 10 years or so, I haven't had an Easter off to be able to enjoy with my family, until last year. But that Easter was all about my dads side of the family and celebrating a few days early my great aunt Val's 100th birthday. I will talk about her and that amazing day in another post later on. So, this year, since I am off, Eric, Brandon & myself will be going over to my brother in law & sister in law's house and spending it with them and our niece. I will be cooking and decided to treat them, and Eric, to our family tradition growing up. I will be making manicotti. I can not wait to make this dinner for them. It's something, if you can't tell, that I am very excited to share with my new extended family. Not to mention, just spending time with them. We love to spending time with my bil and sil & niece and of course they love to have Brandon around.
Just like with Thanksgiving & Christmas this time around, I feel there is so much to be thankful & happy for this year. So much more than previous years. Not just because of Brandon, but also because you never know what is to come or be. Yes, I am doing very well with my treatments right now and will be having my SCT soon, but anything can happen at any moment. You never know what is to come. Today I feel great! I have very minimal pain. But tomorrow I could wake up and not be able to pick Brandon up. Or even be able to get out of bed without help due to the pain. This support group is helping me & making me realize that it is ok to ask for help. It is ok to admit to your depression and share your emotions. They are all justified and you are not alone. I am not alone in this new journey.
Thursday, March 24, 2016
"You Have Cancer"
I never thought I'd ever hear the works "You have cancer." Let alone while 28 weeks pregnant. Back on August 19, 2015, I heard those words. Along with "It's malignant and it's Multiple Myeloma." Not in that order, but those are the words I can remember from that day. From my first ever appointment with my oncologist.
My first reaction was sadness. Knowing very little about this kind of cancer, I was scared. Scared because all I knew was that there is no cure, only treatment and some only live 3-5 years with this type. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to be there for my unborn baby boy. That I'd only get a few short years with him. I felt anger for the same reasons. And also asked "Why me? Why now?" Why ever? Why must there be cancer at all. Since then, my attitude has changed. Really, about a month after the diagnosis. Now, all I think about doing is fighting, and that is exactly what I am doing. Fighting. I WILL be a survivor!
A month after the birth of my son, I started my chemotherapy treatments. When I started on November 11, 2015 my numbers were at 5000. After one month of weekly chemo treatments, my numbers dropped to 500. Yes, that is good. Really good. I was responding well to the treatments. Now, today, my numbers at 15 and have been ranging anywhere from 8 to 16 for the last month or so. Still, really good. Now, I am set for my Autologous Stem Cell Transplant on June 6, 2016.
Through this blog I am starting, I want to inform and educate people about Multiple Myeloma. Also abbreviated to MM. I also want to document my process of going through my transplant. My thoughts. My fears. My aches. My pains. My everyday feelings from the beginning to the end of my transplant period. I will be staying at/around Stanford for a month. Then, the rest of the 100 day period I will get to come home. The good thing about this that I was fearing, is that I will be able to be around my baby boy. I had several people telling me I wouldn't be able to see him or be around him. Which I could understand, but 100 days is WAY too long to be away. Especially when I can barely handle just a few hours away from him. This blog will document our everyday lives through my fight against MM and through my transplant.
So, for now, I leave you with this...
I'm Not Superwoman, But I'm Fighting Multiple Myeloma. So Close Enough.
As seen on a shirt I found on Pinterest.
My first reaction was sadness. Knowing very little about this kind of cancer, I was scared. Scared because all I knew was that there is no cure, only treatment and some only live 3-5 years with this type. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to be there for my unborn baby boy. That I'd only get a few short years with him. I felt anger for the same reasons. And also asked "Why me? Why now?" Why ever? Why must there be cancer at all. Since then, my attitude has changed. Really, about a month after the diagnosis. Now, all I think about doing is fighting, and that is exactly what I am doing. Fighting. I WILL be a survivor!
A month after the birth of my son, I started my chemotherapy treatments. When I started on November 11, 2015 my numbers were at 5000. After one month of weekly chemo treatments, my numbers dropped to 500. Yes, that is good. Really good. I was responding well to the treatments. Now, today, my numbers at 15 and have been ranging anywhere from 8 to 16 for the last month or so. Still, really good. Now, I am set for my Autologous Stem Cell Transplant on June 6, 2016.
Through this blog I am starting, I want to inform and educate people about Multiple Myeloma. Also abbreviated to MM. I also want to document my process of going through my transplant. My thoughts. My fears. My aches. My pains. My everyday feelings from the beginning to the end of my transplant period. I will be staying at/around Stanford for a month. Then, the rest of the 100 day period I will get to come home. The good thing about this that I was fearing, is that I will be able to be around my baby boy. I had several people telling me I wouldn't be able to see him or be around him. Which I could understand, but 100 days is WAY too long to be away. Especially when I can barely handle just a few hours away from him. This blog will document our everyday lives through my fight against MM and through my transplant.
So, for now, I leave you with this...
I'm Not Superwoman, But I'm Fighting Multiple Myeloma. So Close Enough.
As seen on a shirt I found on Pinterest.
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