Just A Random Update

My sister, Gina, is doing well. She hasn't had her surgery yet; they rescheduled because she had a sinus infection and a day later she found out it would've been moved anyway-all non-emergency surgeries are being rescheduled because of the antibiotic resistant strain of Staph that our area has apparently been hit with. She isn't doing any radiation or chemo right now, they've decided to put her on immune suppressants and just keep an eye on the spot in her lung and throat. Now that she's not struggling with the side effects of those two treatments she's feeling better, although the immune suppressants create their own set of issues for her and some days are worse than others.

It's harder to write about her than I expected. It's too difficult to write about how I feel about her illness, but I thought recording my memories would be easy, that in doing so I would be able to cope better. There are some truly funny times that I would love to talk about, some rough times, some happy times. Some moments that are just memorable for no real reason at all. But when I set out to write about things like that it feels like I'm giving up in some way, like I'm focusing on the past because I'm worried there isn't a future. Which I know isn't true, and it's a little silly to think like that, but I over-analyze everything and can't help but feel that way when I try to write these things down. I hope to get over this soon, since most of these memories are fun to talk about regardless of why I initially thought to record them.

Now that she's feeling better most days, Gina has signed up for a 3-day, 60-mile walk to support Susan G and breast cancer research (we've found almost no lung cancer awareness programs outside of stop-smoking support). She has started walking again, she was able to do 5k's as late as last fall but the last few months she hasn't really been able to run much, so having to restart with just walking is a little disappointing for her. I always say I want to walk/run with her, we used to do a 2 mile jog 3-4 times a week when we were younger-then I got a serious boyfriend and wasn't nearly as interested in jogging at 9pm anymore! Anyway, last week I finally decided to quit making excuses and I walked her home. It's ~4 miles and took us an hour and 15 minutes. It was rough-if I had remembered that it was all uphill, I probably wouldn't have quit making excuses to get out of it! The quality, one-on-one time with her was great though, plus I was finally able to get a picture of the tree I moon over every time I drive by.

We're supposed to go again tomorrow. Wish me luck :)

A Hope Deferred

This morning I was high. Higher than I have ever been, especially on an emotion as fickle as hope.  I usually stick to casual optimism, a well-guarded heart, etc, etc. In my experience, hope leads to disappointment.  This morning, though, I couldn't reign my optimism in.

I started the day off knowing that my sister would get the results of her latest scan around noon. If three rounds of chemo and six weeks of radiation did what they were supposed to do she would be well on her way to remission. If not, three weeks at the Mayo Clinic in Arizona, with me tagging along as her caregiver, surely would do the trick. 

I couldn't control the hope that was filling my soul today. The buoyancy of it made me giddy, and I am not one to ever "do" giddy. I could barely sit still, I talked to a couple co-workers about the news expected, I swear I was having hot flashes even.  I tried to resist it, I fought it as best I could, all morning. I checked out the updates on a few bloggers who have recently endured hard times: all of them had at least semi-positive news.  I reminded myself numerous times of the tragic nature of hope. I pictured myself floating atop a geyser powered by this optimism and the outcome when the well ran dry, so not pretty. But still, my hope lifted me up.

It wasn't long after noon that I started to feel deflated. Between the lack of news, the sentimental songs on the radio, and the typical come-down effect of such an overwhelming amount of emotion, I began to realize I had been right all along.  Gina wouldn't return my texts. She wouldn't answer the phone.  To be fair to her though, I tried not to be aggressive and only called twice and texted only a couple times.  In a last ditch effort, I drove to her work at six, still hoping for good news.  And she wasn't there, but my mom was, and she had a little bit of info. And around 8, my sister was finally ready to give up a little bit of info as well.

The tumors in Gina's lungs have pretty much disappeared. Unfortunately, the cancer has spread to the lymph nodes in her abdomen.  Instead of the more extensive, fairly invasive, treatment at Mayo which would have destroyed the cancerous tissue in her lungs, she will soon begin a fourth round of chemo, more intense this time, as well as radiation to both her chest and her abdomen.  But she is expected to be in remission by April.  

A mix of good and bad news. 

There is still reason to hope.  

There is still a need for a guarded heart.

Reaction Haiku

A diagnosis-

Fear, frustration, heartache. But...

Never acceptance.

She's making new friends,

Fending off her depression;

For me: jealousy.

Internalizing:

Countless feelings tucked away,

My heart, a black hole.

But wait! The Mayo?

Experimental treatment?

Sparking a glimmer.

This week's theme for Sensational Haiku Wednesday is "Reaction".

The range of reactions I have felt, even as an outsider, surprises me at times. I can't imagine what my sister is feeling; I think she, too, internalizes. But, I'm sure if I were to take what I feel and amplify it quite a bit, I'd probably only have a small fraction of an idea. 

If Gina is accepted into the Mayo Clinic's treatment program, I will post more details on it. I'll probably still blog about it if she isn't accepted, but with fewer details and more whines.





PS--I quadruple checked my syllable count, but if I'm still off please let me know!!

Fake Funeral

I originally posted this on Blogher back in April, when I thought I might be active enough to have two blogs. It didn't take more than a post or two to realize that one is enough.  I posted this the same day I posted the funeral poem here, since it reminded me of the memory:

"In 2000-01-ish, my younger-by-a-year sister got it in her head to throw herself a funeral.  At 18 years old she wanted to take part in the festivities while she was still young and alive enough to enjoy them, plus it gave us something to do on a boring Saturday.

First, we went dress shopping-she wanted to be laid to rest in somethin' fancy! We drove around to several department stores, checking out the leftover prom clearance. I think we went to three stores before finding something that was both pretty and affordable. We also had to buy a black and purple velvet top hat-I can't really remember the justification behind the hat now, but it was necessary for the ceremony to be perfect. 

Then we had to get a copy of "Painted Black" --the theme song of choice for our impromptu funeral--and of course we needed flowers! My grandma was not very pleased when we cut a few choice stems from her garden, she didn't quite get the whole "fake funeral" thing.

After my sister was dressed in her gown and hat, she stretched out on the couch while the Rolling Stones played in the background and we stood around staring at her clutching her bouquet of peach roses.  My mom took pictures to commemorate the funeral, and I think between the escaping giggles (we all HAD to be straight faced, this was a serious funeral and we wouldn't laugh if it were the real thing would we??) my mom may have had a bit of moisture in her eyes.

Even if it is a bit on the morbid side, it still cracks us up to talk about it. I would say it is one of my favorite memories--although I say that about most of the good ones!"

I'm not sure right now if this memory is still a favorite. In fact, because of the "what-ifs" I almost wish I could forget it completely.  But at the same time I want to remember things like this, because of the what-ifs. 

I am likely going to post random tidbits related to my sister, mainly for my own memory-keeping but also so everyone else can get to know her a bit.

It's gonna get whiny 'round here...

Remember when I whined and cried for a month over my moving predicament? Yea, well, that was nothing. 

This is going to be a short post. I have written half a dozen posts and none of them seem right. I feel like I have another elephant in the room, so this post is to clear the air and in the weeks and months to follow I'll elaborate, and whine and cry and yell and rage and if you choose to stick around great. If not, I'm sorry.

My sister has Small Cell Lung Cancer.

She doesn't smoke, not that it matters in my opinion, but that's another post.

She has four small children, one of whom is battling her own neuro-degenerative disorder.

She found out two weeks ago that it has spread from one lung to the other, in spite of the two rounds of chemo and month of near-daily radiation. It is no longer classified as non-aggressive; it is now classified as moderate-aggressive.

I am so angry and sad and scared and everything in between. I don't know what to do with my thoughts or feelings--I feel like I can't talk to anyone-I'm already over the "have faith" garbage that I once spewed myself to people in similar situations. I can hardly type out these few sentences without tearing up, but I am hoping I can use this blog to get my feelings out and keep them from spilling over into my QT with my sister.

I'm going to try and keep every single post from being about this, and I'm going to try and write more frequently. But for now this is all I have. Good night.