Ovarian Cysts and Romantic Bliss

I know you're all dying to know about the man in my life, and I'll get to that... but first I know a lot of people have been very worried about me the last few weeks because I have gotten very sick again. Here is the good news: I am still CANCER FREE! However, complications from my treatment which I knew to expect have come up.

While laying there, I woke up feeling like I had been punched repeatedly, maybe even kicked, right below my belly button. I could barely move. Something was wrong but I didn't know what. I went home and laid down and tried to sleep away the pain, but it continued to get worse. I took some of my left over pain killers for the next few days and tried to ignore it. After about a week of this, and the pain getting worse, I knew I was going to have to do something about it. I was also developing a sinus infection and bronchitis and so it was time to see a doctor.

Here's where things get complicated. I met someone. Yes, I had been pushing myself too hard. Caught up in the whirlwind of a new romance. Trying to spend every second together. I was partying, gyming it, working and not taking care of myself. I knew the bronchitis/sinus infection was a result of poor diet and lack of sleep but the pain was not. It was where I was most vulnerable, it was near and dear to my lady bits. It felt like spasms, cramps of the worst variety, debilitating, I would cripple over in pain, unable to speak or walk. Having met someone, I knew the time would come where we would be how can I put this delicately, ....intimate.

I was a girl on a mission. I was crazy about him, and I was also scared $#!%less, because through my treatment I had basically become revirginized. But in the few weeks we had known each other, we were inseparable and there is that connection you only read about in Nicholas Sparks novels. I always said when I have sex again, it would have to be with someone I completely trusted and I've found that person. He wanted to wait to make it special, I however thought it was special just because it was him, hence, girl on a mission. So the next morning when I awoke to the pain, I got worried. I didn't tell him, not because I didn't trust him but because I didn't want him to think it was his fault, and so I went home and tried to hide it from everyone. I felt like maybe it was too soon. Maybe my "rehabbing" hadn't prepared me enough. This was my own fault and so therefore I needed to suck it up.

Eventually while at lunch a week later I told him,

"I think I need to see a doctor, something's not right."

He was already fabulous, and was more willing than I to ease into things, to wait until I was ready. Only the right guy cares more about me, than getting his rocks off, reinforcing my decision that there was no other person I would want to be going through this with. Mentally, emotionally I was more than ready... physically was a different story, and it was frustrating as H-E- double hockey stick.

I went to the doctor that afternoon and got antibiotics for my bronchitis/ sinus infection. The pain and its locale was not his specialty as a family doctor and therefore he referred me to a gynecologist.
The next day, the pain took over and won. I couldn't wait for the referral and I ended up in the ER.

I was immediately given pain meds and so it all becomes hazy. I had a cat scan which showed that I had cysts rupture on my ovaries. "Well isn't this just dandy. I have ovaries that don't even work and now they're causing me problems."

The gynecologist I was actually referred too happened to be on duty and came in to explain the best she could what was happening. She did a pelvic exam which took me back to my high dose radiation pain days. Tears flowed down my face and I clutched My dad's lady Claudette with all my might. The pressure, and the pain in the most innocent, vulnerable of places. They took biopsies to check for cancer and continued to infuse dilaudid which is another form of morphine, which I'm allergic to (The morphine, not the dilaudid- because that would be stupid to give me something I'm allergic to). I was told I could be admitted but I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to hide, and ignore the fact that I was not normal and yet again I was dealing with complications out of my control.
The next week was a blur of pain meds.

(Just wanting and ready to go home)

My Man came by to see me everyday, my parentals even gave him a key. My key actually... I think they like him better than me. We were supposed to be in the midst of our honeymoon phase and here I was doped up with out makeup and god only knows how often I showered. OMG I hope I shaved my legs. The point... he was there. He didn't scare, and he's still here now.

A few days after the E.R. I had an MRI and I got an appointment with a Gynecological Oncologist who worked out of Kingston and Oshawa. I had my MRI and a few days later we went to Oshawa. She was FABULOUS! She went to Yale, and was so smart and also mentored my ob/gyn back home, whom she said was her favorite resident. I was happy. As far as how we were going to proceed, this is where things also got complicated. Ovary removal, wait it out, hysterectomy?
(After the MRI- I had to pee and only the mens room was available)

I already can't have children, so the hysterectomy or ovary removal wouldn't be the worst decision. It would eliminate the possibility of the cancer or cysts returning and hey, maybe I'll lose a few lbs. However there would be a 6 week recovery time, which I didn't want to have. I wouldn't be able to work, or work out, or enjoy my new found romantic bliss. To which he replied

"6 weeks really is not a big deal."

...swoon. There was also the issue of the damaged tissue from the radiation making surgery more difficult and possibly creating a longer healing time.
Waiting it out... well this proved slightly problematic as well. I would be in pain longer from the damaged tissue, and on pain meds longer. There is also the chance of the cysts returning and the unbearable pain is not something I wanted to go through again.

A week after this appointment I had an Ultrasound to check out how things were looking. Things were better, but I'm still in pain.

I'm about two weeks past the initial incident, maybe three (Time has been lost on me from the meds). I havent been able to work or go to the gym, I've gotten out a few times, but even that has been a risk. "Low Dose Pain Med Nights." Low dose so that I would be able to interact with fellow humans not coming off as an intoxicated junkie. I've already got a slightly overwhelming personality, (Hello Past cheerleader: always enthusiastic and excited) so I didn't need pain meds completely removing my filter and upping my energy in public.

I've had wonderful visitors... Thank you C, even though it took me about 15 minutes to realize who you were lol!

We've decided to wait it out. The risk of surgery and healing and my weak immune system is not conducive to an easy or necessarily safe surgical procedure. I get to return to life next week. Easy at the gym, couple shifts at work, maybe even a bevy or two. Basically I wont feel like I'm on house arrest anymore.

My man and I have bonded in the short while we've been together because he's already seen me at my worst. When I'm supposed to be worrying about which lip gloss to apply or curls or straight hair, he's been with me laying in bed, listening to me ramble about god only knows. I've also just recently read an article that your sex life significantly improves as time goes on. I have so much to look forward too. Until then pain meds, and rest. More details on the man... because, it really does read like a Nicholas Sparks Novel. Its cliche and everything that I was fearful about as a cancer survivor, well... sigh.... He's wonderful.

T.A.F. - And The Results Are.....

"An Arrow can only be shot by pulling it backwards. So when life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that its going to launch you into something great. So just focus and keep aiming."

The arrow has been my symbol of hope for this adventure. This speed bump has caused me to sit back, slow down, re-evaluate, and get excited. Cancer was a set back, a HUGE, sucky one. But, it put me on the launching pad to shoot forward with the rest of my life.

Sunday night, I rolled around aimlessly in bed, for hours. I couldn't sleep. I knew what Monday morning brought. 6 am... 7am... 8am... the last time check I remember was 9am. My mum woke me up at quarter to twelve and I laid in bed cursing the world. It was cold, and I didn't want to get out of bed. I finally got up, threw some real clothes on (you know as opposed to fake ones) and sat back in bed. Going through my pharmacy of medications, I created my cocktail. 1 Perc, 1 xanax, 1 Valium, 1 Ativan, 1 Codeine. Ok this should do it I thought. My mum's best friend K was visiting in town and so we got in the car and were out. I warned her, this could get interesting.
We stopped at Wawa

"Um are you able to go into Wawa?"

My mum asked. In my most offended tone-

"Mom, this stuff hasn't even touched me."

I got my biscuit (OMG I miss Tim Hortons) and we were really off. My tolerance is really too high.

We got to the hospital and didn't have to wait long in the waiting room. A, the nurse, took me back to get my vital signs and all I was excited about was the fact my weight had stayed the same. Hey, its the small victories Then off to the cow oven mitts room.

I stripped, knee socks matching the cow mitts which very much excited me. Sheet on top and ready to wait for the doc. I quickly popped a dilaudid while on the table, my anxiety was rising faster than the mercury in a thermometer in a heat wave.

So, the meds and why I knew I needed to be sedated. If all went well today, Dr. D was going to remove the "thing" inside me. Said thing is a device that was surgically implanted to help Dr. D2 during the high dose radiation. The device helped him to guide the tools that would be inserted to get the radiation beam to go exactly where he needed it too, and to help protect the healthy surrounding tissue. It was the procedure that brought on tears each time because it was so painful and I couldn't wait to get this thing out. However, it had been surgically implanted, so I didn't expect its removal to be a piece of cake either.

Dr. D came in and got the speculum ready. It was SO painful for him to insert. This was already not going well. Any woman who has had to visit her OB/GYN knows it can be uncomfortable and awkward but painful shouldn't be on that list of adjectives. I gripped my hands together and closed my eyes and tried to breathe.
I didn't see the scissors, but hearing them, inside your lady bits, its scary as hell! They had to cut the stitches and I could hear each slice of the scissor. I kept trying to picture the Eiffle Tower with each breath, Black Christian Louboutin pumps and a sturdy gentleman and I kissing underneath France's beloved structure. It was the first image that came to mind and I kept going back to it, every time I thought I was going to faint from the sound of a slice.

I can't even describe anyone else in the room because I was on mental breathing duty. There were four or five stitches and I don't know how I wasn't shaking. Maybe I was. Finally once the stitches were cut he gently pulled out the little thing. (Which in reality wasn't that little). Normally I would have taken a pic, but it wasn't something I wanted to remember. I was tender and it hurt like hell. When everything was out he did his exam and the tiniest of movements and touches hurt. (This is not going to be good for my impending sex life.)

"You have had a complete response to the treatment."

Wait whAAAAAT? It was so refreshing to hear. It was what I needed to hear. It was to be completely honest, not what I was expecting to hear.

Flashback:
Dr. D pulled my parents aside after my first surgery months ago. The prognosis wasn't good and this was going to be one hell of a challenge.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

We went in his office to discuss and FINALLY the words I had been waiting to hear, had been said, again.

"You have had a complete response to the treatment!"

There were lots of questions but as per Courtney

"Um so when do I get to start with the vibrators and this whole vaginal dilation thing?"

- 4 weeks. UGH, the one thing I was excited about, but all good things are worth waiting for. As we were walking out of his office Dr. D said

"I was really surprised at how well you handled the procedure."

To which I confidently responded

"I'm not going lie, I'm slightly sedated."

With a smile he returned with a quick

"Thought so."

Now, am I out of the gate yet, no. BUT most likely YES! In four weeks I have to have a PET scan to check my lymph nodes. I have to wait the four weeks because all of the radiation and treatment will have caused inflammation that could lead to a false positive. It's too intense and expensive a scan to just do on a whim.
I will have one follow up appointment after that and then be done! DONE! DONE DONE DONE! (Until my next check up.)

SO where does this leave me. For the next two years I have to have a check up every three months. If there is the slightest of symptoms that something could be wrong, I have to high tail it to a doc.

HELLO PARANOIA- nice to meet you, I think we're going to be the best of friends.

After those two years, I have to have a check up every 6 months for 5 years. I have to continue hormone replacement therapy as well but that didn't surprise me. SO basically, now lots of doctors appointments for the next few years, again.

In the next four weeks we will check as well to make sure the leukemia wasn't brought on by the radiation. In the mean time and for now.

"Hey cancer- Fuck you, I WIN!"

The car ride home was a blur. I was stoned out of my mind. (Thanks meds for kicking in too late...as usual.) I remember blabbering on about salsa. We even stopped and got some. I remember passing out in the car (because I remember being woken up.) As we were walking in the door I stopped and stared at the clouds-

"Its going to snow."

Everyone was like yea ok whatever. (It snowed this morning- boom stoned weather predictions!) I tackled my sister's bff J when I walked through the door, he wasn't mad, in the slightest. I spilled vanilla scented oil all over my uggs which are not brand new, but look brand new. Just Peachy. I inhaled a quesadilla like it was my day job. I texted a few people (Oh lord I'm sorry for those conversations I can only imagine.) I had my iv fluids put in, I passed out. I woke up, had a quick skype date with one of the besties M, and then passed right back out. Writing this hasn't been easy because I'm having a drug binge hangover. But honestly, YAY! NO more painful $#!%. Or at least painful to the point of needing to be incoherent.

So its done. I did it. I'm praying that its done for good. That this will never happen to me again. Thanks for the offer but I'm completely content with 4 times. I'm ok with follow ups and check ups because I'm alive and rocking it. I still have some major recovery to go through but did I mention I did it! I've got this. As someone close to me says I'm ... no he and I BOTH are TAF! - Tough. As. F***!

SO now, reintegration back to normalcy begins! I'm ready to pull a Katniss and shoot this arrow forward that is my life! BOOM!

Freedom Bell bc I'm Done Radiation Hell.

FInally Treatments are over. Now granted... this is just because the scheduled treatments are over. I'm not getting excited until I hear a doctor say

"Hey Courtney- good news. Your cancer is gone and you can strictly focus on recovering to get back to your life because there will be no more radiation rays or chemo to hinder that process"

BOOM! Until then, I have one week to begin recovering, until I see that doc.

People have been worried because I have not been posting but quite honestly there has not been much to post about. The horrible process that is High dose radiation is too difficult for me to talk about. Its too painful. It ruins me. A good friend told me on Sunday that I have managed to create a bubble for my health, and I am on the outside of that bubble. All because I told him

"If the biggest problem in my life right now, is whether a man will be able to love me because I can't have children, and that its something I should discuss early on in the relationship, i.e. is adoption ok? Then I am really quite blessed."

My guy friend K looked at me, stunned and said,

"Courtney, that shouldn't be the least of your worries, shouldn't you be worrying about your health? I mean you have a considerable amount to worry about"

To which I replied

"No, because I know I have a battle, I know I'm fighting, I know it sucks and its hard and difficult and it is taking its toll on me, but I know I'm going to beat it, so the future is where I'm focusing my efforts."

This all in the same day that I managed to puke my brains out non stop. I'm the only girl I know who can puke non stop, barely eat and not lose a pound. DAMN YOU body defense mechanisms.

SO today was my last treatment. My favorite nurse wasn't even there to say good bye which was heart wrenching. She's pregnant and had a fever and I hope she's ok. (She called the next day to apologize for missing me and I'll stop by to visit her next week!) I have a bunch of other good ones there though, so I had nothing to worry about.

This morning, my mom was out of town for work, so the task fell upon my sister to take me. She not only stepped up, but was super sister! I medicated hard core for the procedure. I'm already sore from the last few and it hurts regardless so I knew today was going to be the most painful. It was. I got very excited in the car though upon the realization that Valium has what appears to be heart in the pill. (I know its the letter V) But I was excited because

"OMG Valium LOVES me! It has a heart to tell me SO!"

In the car I was feeling wonderful. My cocktail of Valium, Ativan, Percocet, Codeine and Dilaudid was mixing quite nicely and I was right out of her. We walked into the hospital, I deactivated our parking chip and showed my sister how to use my Ipad. We were then sent into the exam room and it was as if I had all of the narcotics sucked directly out of my veins. I took another percocet and Valium but I knew they wouldn't have enough time to kick in. The pain was going to be unbearable today.

Dr. D began to insert all the wonderful god knows what of tools and I winced and teared and cried. Today was the first time, that I full blown cried. It was awful. The pressure, the pain (when I say pressure, thats what it feels like, an intense pressure causing the pain). I couldn't stretch any wider, I couldn't fit anymore in there. The radiation makes the skin feel like the worst sunburn and he was stuffing me like a turkey on thanksgiving day, putting intense pressure on the tender flesh. It made me never want to ever stick anything in there again, yet I still managed a

"So how long until I can have sex again?"

The doctor and intern laughing because of course that is what I would be thinking. The answer by the way- not for a long while. There is a lot of healing that needs to be done. Not that I have anyone I would be sleeping with anyway. Some serious trust has to be built up in that department. SERIOUS.

I couldn't move once the apparatus was inside me. Normally I could at least scooch and the pain would subside slightly but no way in hell. I was moved on to the stretcher by the doc and nurse and lay there in more pain than I thought possible. The extra perc and valium had clearly not kicked in yet. D, one of the nurses tried talking to me while I waited to be transported to the CT scanner, trying to keep my mind off the pain. It helped but the tears did not stop flowing. I was so proud of my sister who stayed strong the whole time beside me.

Once in the CT scanner, the tears continued to flow. I even tried pinching myself to see if I felt pain elsewhere maybe it would lessen the pain below (pain displacement I think its called). Not the case. The nurse stopped the CT to see if I was ok, because I normally stay so still. But with the pinching and trying to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop, I apologized and tried as hard as I could to grin and bare it and stay still.

After Ct we were moved to the mountain room where we waited for the radiation oncologist and the physicist, to come up with their plan of action. My sister fed me Gingerale and a dilaudid. The pain was not subsiding. My tolerance has clearly reached epic proportions for the medications. We watched an episode of Modern Family on my ipad and then it was time to go. MY sister back to the waiting room and me into the little dungeon of radioactive mountains as I call it. They played Rod Stewart for me, (He's kind of like Michael Buble and I'm not totally mad about that.) because I didn't like Elton John last time. (I know I know... but I can't help who I like.) I closed my eyes and tried to imagine I was in Paris. Walking on cobblestone streets wearing my Christian Louboutin black pumps. I was still in excruciating pain but the images of the Eiffel Tower and red soled dreams kept me in check. I breathed and clutched the collar of my sweater. I whispered to my self, this is almost over. You are almost done.

The doors opened and the doctor came in to take out the radiation apparatus. It's just as painful to take it out, but its a much quicker process and as soon as the pieces come out, there is an instant flush of release... a pleasant sigh of relief. The nurse and my sister helped me redress and step down off the stretcher.
I am done.

After I was dressed we went to the waiting room to wait for some prescriptions to be refilled. Its tradition that when one is done their radiation, they get to ring a bell in the waiting room. On my first day I asked,

"What the hell is the liberty bell doing in the waiting room"

but now I understand. The real one signifies Freedom for Philadelphia and this one signifies freedom from radiation for me. Nervous and emotional, from the medications, I said

"Hell yes I'm ringing this and sorry guys its going to be loud."

All the nurses and doctors gathered around and the waiting room clapped. It was very cliche but I'm glad I did it. I wanted so badly to ring it on the first day and was finally getting my chance.

I'm not going to get excited about being done treatment or being "Cancer free"... not yet. Although my doctor can no longer see any cancer, tests must still confirm it. I need a little time to heal and then in a week and a half I get to go and see my gynecologist oncologist who will set up the tests to confirm. Until then I rest and heal.

On the way home, I finally had an appetite. We got five guys burgers and fries, and I brought peanuts for the road. I ate every last bit. So far they have not come back up, but I'm not holding my breath.

This blog for me thus far has been my outlet and a place for me to talk about treatment. Now, once I do get the desired results, it will be about reintegrating back into normalcy. I'm sure it will be just as interesting if not more so because it will be about dating, Love, Sex, Health, Work, Coming off my pain meds and if my sister has it her way rehab lol. This war is far from over, but this battle may have been won.