Chemo Email #2 (a.k.a. Cancer(-free!) Girl's Life Lessons...)

Easterly thoughts...

So to be quite honest the e-mail isn't really about Easter...however, given the timing, I apparently have written an Easterly e-mail. That said, what follows is actually a list of some of the things I've learned the past couple months that I wanted to share with you. I hope you enjoy it...and I also hope April finds you having a wonderful quarter of the year. (Yes, scary as it is, only 3/4 of 2007 remains!)

...and before I forget, if anyone would like not to receive e-mails from me anymore as I'm still using the list of people who wanted to be updated on my chemo treatments, please let me know. I send these thrice-daily epic novels since I've heard they sometimes brighten people's days, but if your day would be brighter without my e-mails filling up your inbox, that can easily be fixed! I aim to please!

Happy Easter! I love you!

love,

alex

Cancer(-free!) Girl's Life Lessons...

*A cheerful heart really IS good medicine.

*Even if you think you're not the bravest or the strongest, trust that life will make you braver and stronger than you ever thought possible.

*Listen to great music. The possibility of losing my hearing makes me appreciate it even more.

*Never underestimate how great a shower feels.

*Hair is just hair, but that doesn't mean losing it is easy. Guys, when/if you bald as you age, I feel your pain.

*I'm forgetting diets and counting calories. I intend to enjoy food. Enjoy being able to eat food that tastes good, that doesn't make you feel sick. If I get hit by a bus tomorrow, I don't want the last thing I think to be: "Damn I wish I had eaten that cheeseburger."

*Along the same lines, being skinny isn't all it's cracked up to be. If you want to be skinny ask your doctor for abdominal surgery followed by chemo. It makes the couple extra pounds afterwards seem not nearly as bad.

*Never forget to say "I love you." So long as you mean it, saying "I love you" is never a waste of words.

*Don't lie. Life's too short to waste listening to and telling lies. Plus, the truth is probably more interesting.

*Smile. Life really isn't that bad.

*Be a little more discreet if you want to stare at someone. Even if you think I don't see you staring at the scarf on my head, I do...and if you're lucky I might call you out on it or wave at you just to embarrass you. ;)

*When you need someone, maybe the people you're expecting to be there aren't...but who is? Those are the people worth your time.

*Sometimes, life sucks, but it gets better. Sometimes life sucks, gets worse, and then gets better. Sometimes life sucks a whole lot, but I promise, life gets better.

*Ice cream tastes amazing and will make you happy. Music as well. (Clarification: Music will make you happy. Whether or not it tastes it amazing, I have no idea.)

*Trust yourself.

*I have amazing friends, a wonderful family, and an even more unbelievable life. Odds are you do too.

*Quit being so serious! Lighten up—life is exciting and enjoyable! If you're going to be grumpy, go be grumpy elsewhere...laughing is MUCH more fun.

*Oh and if your stomach magically grows a lot in a week and you haven't eaten in two days, go to the doctor. Apparently that's not how people get fat. 

Chemo Email #1 (I must have been crazy, right?)

TWO weeks down!!

Top Ten Great Things about Week 2 of Chemo

10. Only ONE visit to the hospital! 6 entire days spent far away from Evanston Hospital!

9. I got a shot on Monday--and I was "brave" about it! (Brave=I didn't cry OR need to be held still. I have a tiny fear of needles. The word "tiny" here means extremely big.)

8. I've been awake AND alert for about half of each day! ...An improvement on last week when I was awake maybe five hours a day.

7. I made it out to Cheesecake Factory for dinner and had one of the most amazing meals I've had in a while!

6. I gained weight! I've never been happier to see the numbers on a scale go up, but I feel much better knowing that I am eating enough. It's hard to eat about 5000 calories one day and then see the scale hasn't budged.

5. 8 Days till Christmas Eve...

4. 9 Days till Christmas...

3. 11 Days till my birthday!

2. I STILL HAVE MY HAIR! Sure it's thinned a bit and is cut so short that I routinely get annoyed that it will do nothing but stand up straight...but I still have a full head of hair!

And the number one greatest thing about Week 2 of Chemo is...

1. DAAAAAAAAAA BEARS. Da bears, da bears, da bears. They're 11-2, with an AMAZING win on Monday against the Rams. And seriously, Devin Hester's 94- and 96- yard return touchdowns? Even though I felt sicker than I have all throughout chemo, I had to watch the entire game, because it was that good...Rex is back in action! Not to mention Barack Obama finally made a formal statement about his support for the Monsters of the Midway!

...All is still going really well with chemo! How could it not when everyone and everywhere is abuzz with holiday spirit?! I hope you're getting excited for the holidays--if you need some holiday spirit boosting, I recommend watching Elf, Home Alone, and Home Alone 2. Then, put on some Harry Connick Jr.--I'm a big fan of "It Must've Been Ol' Santa Claus." If you still need boosting after all that, call me, and I'll be sure to get you excited--I have my reindeer slippers ready and waiting for Christmas morning!

HAPPY 9 DAYS TILL CHRISTMAS!

All my love,

Alex

P.S. I really am awful at picking up my phone lately. I even changed my voicemail, because I've been asleep so much. If you have called me or asked me to call you, I'm sorry I haven't really picked up or called back. I also am awful at returning e-mails. I really know I need to sit down and respond to you individually, but lately, I've become lazy, and lots of times, I'm just so tired of all this cancer-stuff that I don't want to talk about it. However, my goal this week is to really start getting better at returning e-mails at least. Once I finish all those, I'll move onto my missed calls list. Thanks for sending e-mails and calling even though I've been a bit of a brat about not picking up/replying.

P.P.S. For some of you who did not get last week's e-mail, you may be confused...well, welcome to my updates about how all this crazy chemo stuff is going!

This is why I'm a writer, not a public speaker

A week ago, I walked into a bar and ordered an absolut on the rocks with olives. The bartender gave me a look that said: “Are you serious?” but he nonetheless made my drink, and I suffered through sipping the entire thing. It wasn't my drink, though. April 21^st would have been my mom’s 61^st birthday, but in October of this past year, she passed away after battling early-onset Alzheimer’s for 10 years.  By her drink alone, I’m sure you can tell she was pretty awesome (I mean, I had to chase the vodka with a margarita, but my mom was apparently known for doing shots with my dad’s family at weddings…).

My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s when she was 50. A year later, when I was 16, my mom asked me what my name was, and a few years later, she just barely made it to my high school graduation—refusing to get dressed in the clothes my dad had laid out for her, yelling that they were “children’s clothes!” As a family, we look back on memories like this and try to laugh a little—remember how mom wouldn’t let us pick out clothes for her, because she thought we were trying to trick her and get her to wear children’s clothes? The memories are bizarre and crazy…and they highlight how Alzheimer’s is anything but a pretty disease. There is no cure, there are no odds to fight against, because even with the best treatment, there is no remission.

When I was 19, I was diagnosed with cancer, and I knew my odds. I knew the treatment plan—I was told: “This is your best chance; this is what has worked before.” When my mom was diagnosed with early–onset Alzheimer’s, and my dad asked, “What is the course of treatment?” The doctors said: “You just live each day the best you can.” There was no treatment; they tried medicine to slow it down, but in less than 3 years, she went from being an amazing, active mom, wife, and friend to someone who was fully dependent on others for her care. By being here tonight, donating and supporting the Alzheimer’s Association, you are hopefully leading to a change for others' diagnosed with Alzheimer's. There was no history of Alzheimer's in our family--we didn't know it was coming, and we couldn't do anything once it arrived. My brother and I know in the future it's possible we could hear the same diagnosis my mom did. However, we've committed to fighting against the same treatment plan she had by donating and supporting the Alzheimer's Association. Hopefully we'll be knocking back Absolut in 40 years together with all our friends, still able to remember my mom the way we do now.

I said this tonight at a fundraiser and was all fumbly and bumbly, two non-real words, but that aptly describe my fear of public speaking. Please feel free to donate and share this post with anyone and everyone!

You can donate here.

A Day Off From Work...

...is not as exciting as it seems. Today I spent my day in bed until 1p.m., at which point I ate a bowl of soup and an ice cream bar. Four hours later I treated myself to some chicken broth. Yum. While perhaps I would be even more inclined to listen to my advice in the future if I could see how terrible I looked I'd prefer that remain a horrible memory, so I'll just let you imagine what I look like if I sound like this:

In other news, tonight the Hunger Games happens to be opening. I bought a midnight ticket to go see it with a couple people...and lo and behold my voice sounds terrible, and I'm feeling miserable. Yes, I feel better after resting all day, and yes, I could possibly convince myself that I could go to the movie...but I am pretty sure that would be one of the stupidest things I've done in my life. 

I believe this level of stupidity falls along the lines of not going to the doctor until I was shaking while driving a friend to the airport (pneumonia) or not going to the doctor until I looked like I was about to have a baby (tumor). You know, typical Alex "I'm not sick" moments.

So here's to spending the rest of my day (and possibly the rest of my week) in bed, looking crappy, and sounding even crappier. Thank goodness I have a TV and puppy to keep me company.

It's a GRRRRREAAATTTT Day to Be a Rambler: 10 Signs You Went to Loyola Academy

1. You wore patch pocket-less pants for four years and still are not sure why. If you were like me, your mom refused to take you to Abercrombie, and you may or may not have had to throw a fit to avoid wearing anything with pleats. Seriously, mom? I am not going to wear khaki pants with pleats down the front. Thank goodness for Express. Parent and child approved. As a naive 14-year old, I often wondered if it was easier to cheat or steal if you wore pants with patch pockets (maybe you could fit all your notes in your pockets without anyone noticing?). I now realize how ridiculous that sounds, but I have no other hypotheses about the patch pocket-ness...even a decade later.

2. You never, ever, brought a lunch on Fridays (or on Thursdays during Lent). Chicken Nugget Fridays=the best thing that ever happened to me throughout my four years in high school (and the Friday that I visited as a freshman in college...). No nuggets compare.

3. You thought your paper would be the first that Mr. O'Loughlin read and declared A/A--no need to rewrite; your paper was instead returned with an excruciating amount of red notes, likely a C/C-, and in dire need of a rewrite. Mr. O'Loughlin may or may not have circled a paragraph in my first paper and wrote: "See me." Talk about a nerve-wracking walk up to the former pitcher. "Alex,  read what you wrote. What does it mean?" ... "Well, it means what I wrote; I mean, I said what I meant." ... "So what did you mean?" ..."Um, well, I'm not sure." ... "Exactly." 10 years later, when I write, I still ask myself, "What would Mr. O'Loughlin say?" and hope I haven't split an infinitive somewhere or used a pronoun without an easily identifiable antecedent.

4. You (or someone you know) paid an absurd amount of money to park on someone else's driveway. Who knew a piece of plastic to hang on your rearview mirror was so valuable? Sure we all had stressful days in high school (finals, the day everyone received their college acceptance letters, the day you didn't have enough time to read all of CliffsNotes for chapters 1-3 before class) but nothing compared to the annual parking lottery.

5. You owned items by one or all of the following brands: Nalgene. North Face. Birkenstock. You get 10 extra points if you carried your Nalgene water bottle in your North Face backpack (for all those trips climbing the mountains at Old Orchard of course)...while wearing your North Face fleece...and while keeping your feet warm and trendy in your new Birkenstock clogs. Guys, you know you owned them all as well. Don't even try to deny it, because FYI, girls take pictures.

6. Please Write This Down: You got naked. We all went on retreats from freshman to senior year, but nothing can compare to the cloud of mystery that surrounded (and I imagine still surrounds) Kairos. When you asked someone if he could tell you more about what happens on Kairos, you were told at least one of the following:
-You get naked.
-Pack these 3 obscure items; you'll need them.
-Good luck--don't be scared!
Gee, thanks creepy friend who may or may not have joined a cult on this retreat; I feel so much better now, and I'm not at all anxious about leaving school, my cell phone, and my watch for four days.
Now? The Missions music still makes you well up a little, you could sing "There's Another Train" without a moment of hesitation, and you'll never forget what "Live the Fourth" means.

7. Whenever in doubt of where to meet with friends, you always opted for Bakers Square. Pie? Free drink refills? Big booths to fit 10 Ramblers and their popped collars? Done, done, and done. What I wouldn't give for a slice of chocolate silk pie to be delivered to my house in LA right about now.

8. You wore gym shoes, not your Birks (see #5), on the day of sign-ups for Life! Be In It! in an attempt to be one of the first 20 people in line. To the first person in line, I hope you never forget how you felt when you signed your name under your first choice of service opportunities. I have to assume that someone wildly important and successful was at the front of the line every time, because only someone with crazy skills could make it to the front of the line before every other Rambler racing to the Ministry Office.

9. You have either travelled to Ireland to Irish stepdance competitively, or after watching your amazingly talented friends on stage, you attempted to stepdance in the gym and likely injured yourself or at the very least your pride. St. Patrick's Day just doesn't feel the same without watching your friends, decked out in dresses and boasting curls that would make Shirley Temple jealous, Irish stepdance like it's no big deal. Word of warning to those of you who think you can dance as well as those girls on stage: Leave it to the professionals. 

10. You know what a "J.U.G." is. Enough said. 


N.B. Oh yes, nota bene, friends. I'll be curious if anyone responds, because I wonder how much of this applies to graduates from years before or beyond the early 2000s. I'd imagine some brands have changed, but please tell me everything else was (or is!) the same! Loyola just would not have been Loyola without the aforementioned awesomeness.