Hi. I’m Kate. Turn ons include IV drips, PETscans, and organic fig newtons. Turn offs include whining, hospital gowns, and artificial sugar.
Let’s see how much life I can squeeze in between work, chemo, sleep, and scans.
Four Days
Enough time to hear the news that I need a new treatment.
Enough time to feel the crushing blow of disappointment that my body isn’t cooperating.
Enough time to accept the fact that the cancerous activity in my liver has resumed.
Enough time to feel despair and anguish.
Enough time to get a quirky new hairstyle before my hair falls out.
Enough time to get a new pedicure (color: Room Service).
Enough time to go shopping for some new hats.
Enough time to enjoy a glass of wine and a Christmas cookie.
Enough time to stop feeling sorry for myself and enough time to identify my new mantra:
Bring it on, bitch!
You are strong. You are fighting. You are surviving.
Take the bitch down.
The Mike Tyson analogy comes to mind. Mike, you better watch out, because this girl is ready to fight and you’re going down. Kate, you are so much stronger than him, inside and out, so put up your dukes and give him one good slug!
Hey, I’m so sorry that you’re going through a rough patch. Others have wished for a stocking full of platelets for you… I will add my wish for a strong response to the new therapy.
We’ve never met — but I always check for new posts on your blog, and I am rooting for you from Massachusetts!
Dorothy
Kate: You and I have never met but I feel like I already know you. I work with Rod and usually let him know when you have posted something new to your website. I found out about your cancer during the summer and have had you in my prayers ever since. I check your website everyday because you are a true fighter and I strongly believe you will win this battle. I woke up around 4:00 this morning thinking about you. I love your new haircut. You are just stylin’ and profilin’!! Can’t wait to hear about the hats you have bought!! I wish there was something I could do for you other than pray. Keep the faith and GOD will take care of you. He has very broad shoulders and is awesome!!
Keep posting to your website and keep fighting…YOU are a SURVIVOR and have your own cheering team behind you!!
Go Kate!!!
As corny as that sounds that’s what came to mind and heart (along with “You Go Girl!” ) when I finished reading your post.
You can and will do this. I’ll be here cheering you on and praying for miracles to happen.
I love that you are human (going through & sharing emotions) and still so incredibly strong, not willing to just go through the motions. You Truly are strong, fighting and surviving.
Hugs and Prayers!
You will kick this cancers ASS! You do have a huge team cheering you on! You will win! We love you!
Kate,
My husband, 48, also has pc, he is the strongest, smartest, most determined person I know. The doctors are all amazed by his attack and kill attitude, love him, and are trying everything to make our miracle happen. Our lives parallel yours and I cried as I read your ups, downs, and observations. I will show him your blog tomorrow, when he gets out of the hospital, and think he will be in touch very soon. You two are kindred spirits and will have a lot of things to share. Thanks for making me not feel so alone in this. I will pray constantly for your miracle to happen too! Stay strong!
For those of you who don’t know Kate, her new haircut looks great, but her hair was not dyed blue. I was so looking forward to that. Oh, well.
God bless you Kate. 1 year ago I was diagnosed with a neuroendrocrine tumor of the pancreas. Went to Johns Hopkins to have surgery. I can definitely relate to everything you’re saying. When you’re originally diagnosed, you hear the worst and wonder how long you have to live. The good news is 1 year later, I’m doing quite well. Just went for a followup CT scan, haven’t gotten a call from the doctor yet so I’m crossing my fingers. You will be in my prayers, consider me a new friend.
I found your site through imtooyoung for this. Stay strong. I am going through chemo too, we need to find ways to fight this.
freddyscancerblog.blogspot.com/ if you want to read it
Dear Kate,
I do not know you personally, but through the LOVE of your sister-in-law and her family (Pam,Todd, Samantha, Sydney) I feel as though I know you as well. We are so PROUD, of your accomplishments so far, and Know you will be giving YOUR ALL, to fight this terrible disease. We will pray and keep you in our thoughts at this Giving time of Year, because unlike you, some of us, give for the Holidays, what you are doing is giving to all of us, the awareness that giving is all year around,to help others understand the reality of cancer. We Thank You .
Ruthie
Hey, lady.
You don’t know me, but I got directed this way from my TwitFlist. (Blame PreppyDude ^_^)
Cancer has been a huge, ugly, uninvited houseguest in my family for a long time. I just lost my dad to metastatic colon cancer. A few years ago, I lost my grandad to cancer. Duane (PreppyDude) has that damned Hodgkin’s. I’ve got CLL. Susan Reynolds has breast cancer…. it’s everywhere. And it’s ugly.
But we’re together in this. For whatever reasons, our bodies are acting all fubar. I don’t quite understand it, but I get it.
But you’re not alone. People everywhere are lighting candles, praying, thinking positive or whatever else people do when they care. And that’s just it: We do care. We care about you and your life and your fight.
And we want you to keep fighting. And more than that, we want you to win.
And if you need a goofy hat after this new treatment takes hold (Or a sexy one; I do those too)? E-mail me. I’m a forced to be reckoned with: I’m a KNITTER. ^_^
Keep fighting. Keep going. And thanks for sharing.
Kate,
I visit your site often have posted on here before, and you are in my thoughts. It sounds like I have the same disease as Donna above — neuroendocrine cancer of the pancreas (Donna, if you are reading this, e-mail me at kmanning@mindspring.com if you want to share information), although mine has spread to the liver and bones and is not curable. Rather, I am always looking for/forward to the next treatment that’s in the pipeline. I don’t know what next treatment you’re embarking on, but I hope you can look at it as simply that — the next treatment — rather than as a substitute for something better that has failed you. Onward!!!
During my first several rounds of IV-based chemo, my hair fell out and I got a fabulous wig that looked better than my real hair. I also accumulated a wonderful collection of hats. More recently, I’ve been taking Xeloda and Temodar and, like you, had to stop (at least temporarily) because of low platelets and other problems. My biggest complaint now in terms of my appearance is that I am sporting (or, should I say, sprouting!) a crazy case of chemo curl, with the biggest Afro a white girl could ever have! The wig truly may have been the best ‘do I’ve ever done, and I’ve had some good haircuts. So, get yourself a good one and wear it with pride!
Anyway, DO enjoy that glass of wine, that Christmas cookie, and the prospects of the next kick-ass treatment. Other winter comforts that I have been enjoying include a big mug of warm tea, a soft and colorful scarf around my neck, my favorite music, a mildly scented candle (I only seem to enjoy these in the winter), a fire in a fireplace, and warm blankets (although not too many; the #%$ chemo put me into menopause at age 44!). Somehow the process of “coming in from the cold” during wintertime
does my cancer-ravaged psyche good. Hopefully it will for you, too.
Take care.
P.S. Kate, I just re-read your post and realized that you may not be getting a wig. I didn’t mean to imply that everyone should get one. That was just something that worked for me and was fun…
Kristy
Kate, great post and I am sending many positive thoughts your way….
While I feel, as many of your bloggers do, that there is a connection here between/among us. It always helps to know we are not ‘in this’ alone. I don’t even know what to call it anymore. It is a journey, it is an adventure, but to me it is one helluva roller coaster ride.
Hands in the air — tx is working, feeling good, life is good
Sudden stop– ut oh something just ain’t feeling right
Slow creeping– waiting waiting on test results, blood counts, effectiveness of treatment
The loop - welcome to this out of control world of cancer.
And, despite it all, we find something deep inside us, an inner strength to pull us through. Maybe to get us through the hour or the day, but it is there and we pull from it and live with a disease. I am glad you have the fighting spirit. To be honest, I don’t always, but most of the time I do. So you fight, everyone here fight, and so will I…my cancer has spread. And, while it doesn’t look pretty on the CT report, I am not going down. I’m just not- soooooo I’m going to steal a montra from Tyra.
Cancer you can kiss my flat (heehee) a@#!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Take good care, Kate
Kate,
You have a team of well wishers behind you in Monterey, California. I check your site about once a week and think about you often. I know that we have never met, but my friends and I are sending you positive energy. My beautiful Mom has PC with mets to the liver. She is on a clinical trial with Stanford Hospital.
Anyhow, I know that you will win this battle. I can tell that you are very strong.
Sincerely,
Katie
Add A Comment