Good Things
I got me a wimpy cancer, and I am totally kicking its butt right now. This chemo is whacking me good, but that cancer is dying fast. While examining me, Doc said, "I used to feel pea-sized lumps here, but now they are something smaller than a pea. It's responding well to therapy." My Hodgkin's Lymphoma is getting good and dead. Three chemo treatments down. Three to go.
I am on five medications at the moment: Acyclovir, which is the antibiotic I take twice a day to help fight off infection. My good cells are a little low. Trifethoraprim is a sulfa-based antibiotic I take two days in a row, once a week. I also have to take Zofran, Ondansetron and Prochlorperazine (Compazine), which are all different kinds of anti-nausea meds.
I still feel nauseous. I'm drinking a lot of water. I get really bad acid reflux. My teeth feel soft. I'm feeling really tired. I am also feeling restless. I can't stand laying down at the moment. It's a horrible combo. So I type.
My dear friend Angela Lewis was diagnosed with cancer last year. I attended her post-chemo party, which happened to be the same week that I was diagnosed. She is a nurse and borrowed a bunch of wigs from the hospital for all of the attendees to wear. She figured, if she's going to have a party, she shouldn't be the only one wearing a wig. I rocked a silver granny wig. I think I'm gonna do something like that when all of this hair falls out in a segment called, "Which Wig Will Wixey Wear?" Monday, I go with Vanilla Ice. Then Big Fro. Louis XIV. Michael Bolton. Mr. Clean. Like that.
At her party, Angie had a poem that she had written, posted on the inside of her door that I thought was really remarkable. Now, in the midst of dealing with cancer, I realize how spot-on it really is.
That brings up something we are so grateful for in this process. I never realized there were so many people that cared. It's humbling, and overwhelming. It means so much to us. You will never know. So many of you have reached out to us, and have touched us with your genorosity, kindess and support. We cannot thank you enough for that.
I am on five medications at the moment: Acyclovir, which is the antibiotic I take twice a day to help fight off infection. My good cells are a little low. Trifethoraprim is a sulfa-based antibiotic I take two days in a row, once a week. I also have to take Zofran, Ondansetron and Prochlorperazine (Compazine), which are all different kinds of anti-nausea meds.
I still feel nauseous. I'm drinking a lot of water. I get really bad acid reflux. My teeth feel soft. I'm feeling really tired. I am also feeling restless. I can't stand laying down at the moment. It's a horrible combo. So I type.
My dear friend Angela Lewis was diagnosed with cancer last year. I attended her post-chemo party, which happened to be the same week that I was diagnosed. She is a nurse and borrowed a bunch of wigs from the hospital for all of the attendees to wear. She figured, if she's going to have a party, she shouldn't be the only one wearing a wig. I rocked a silver granny wig. I think I'm gonna do something like that when all of this hair falls out in a segment called, "Which Wig Will Wixey Wear?" Monday, I go with Vanilla Ice. Then Big Fro. Louis XIV. Michael Bolton. Mr. Clean. Like that.
At her party, Angie had a poem that she had written, posted on the inside of her door that I thought was really remarkable. Now, in the midst of dealing with cancer, I realize how spot-on it really is.
GOOD THINGS
By Angie Lewis
When I got cancer
Suddenly I became aware
of the number of my friends
and the people that care.
When I got cancer
I learned to become
Grateful for the small things,
and to worry less about some.
Because I got cancer
I made a change I couldn’t before,
Now I’m talking less
and trying to listen more.
Because I got cancer
There is no longer dread
Of the annual “day” that I get older,
Now I’ll celebrate instead.
When I got cancer
It truly changed my life,
But I’ve discovered many good things
Even through the strife.
That brings up something we are so grateful for in this process. I never realized there were so many people that cared. It's humbling, and overwhelming. It means so much to us. You will never know. So many of you have reached out to us, and have touched us with your genorosity, kindess and support. We cannot thank you enough for that.
Posted by Bill Wixey at 6/22/2009 11:13 PM 
Categories: Good Things, Poem, Angie Lewis, chemotherapy, nausea medication, antibiotics, wimpy cancer
Tags: Good Things poem Angie Lewis chemotherapy nausea medication antibiotics wimpy cancer
Categories: Good Things, Poem, Angie Lewis, chemotherapy, nausea medication, antibiotics, wimpy cancer
Tags: Good Things poem Angie Lewis chemotherapy nausea medication antibiotics wimpy cancer
What a beautiful poem Bill, so true. And I think we are grateful, too, for what you are giving us, by sharing this journey. The chance to realize we are all in this together and it is best to be thankful for the little things, and cherish our family and friends and support system. Go Get 'Em Bill!
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You Go BILL!!! Kick it's butt! Love the poem. Thank you for sharing and give our love to Angie. So glad she has finished her round with this.
Know all of the kids pray for you every night. It's adorable. You are the, "Please help Will & Gigi's daddy get all better" prayer.
We love you guys. Praying God will minister to you in the midst of the restlessness and quiet your spirit. Be still and know...He IS God. So great to keep up with your journey. Thank you for sharing where you are. It helps us know how to pray more.
Love you Catherine & the kids too!
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Isn't it great to know that the BIG C can be kicked in the ass? It does its fair share of kicking us around for long enough and when you know that you can kick it back, it feels so good. It makes the needles smaller and the pain not so painful and the hair loss just a speed bump and an adventure in the road of life. I can't feel my cancer the way you can yours, but that must be an awesome feeling to be able to know right now and not 12 weeks from now that your treatment is working. Keeping kicking its ass. You are on the road home!
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Bill: I heard about your diagnosis from my work on the Seattle Lymphomathon (sponsored by the Lymphoma Research Foundation) which is coming up in a few weeks. My heart goes out to you, I know this is all so scary and exhausting. But you have to do it, because you are young and your family needs you and you absolutely will be cured, no question there. I have recently been through the same ordeal, Hodgkin's treated with ABVD. I started chemo last August when my baby girl was 3 months old and my older daughter was about to turn 2. You will get through it, but the journey will be the most awful thing. And recovery from treatment will be just as hard. I am 6 months post-chemo and still struggling. I blogged about my journey as well, it really helped with the "how are you?" questions - so difficult to answer when dealing with cancer. It's amazing what they don't tell you about chemo until you are going through it. Like I wasn't supposed to touch my kids for 48 hours after. Say what?? Mostly because they were so small, and there was a risk of the chemicals leaching to them. My suggestions: I managed my nausea with Aloxi and decadron (steroid) during my IV treatment, then took oral decadron and a drug called Emend in the few days after (http://www.emend.com/aprepitant/emend/consumer/index.jsp). When I tried to go without the meds I got very sick. With this combo of meds I didn't get sick at all. I also took ranitidine (Zantac) twice a day throughout my 5 months of treatment, and added mylanta and the like during those few days I was taking the steroids to manage the heart burn. Ativan can help you sleep through the jitters caused by the steroids. I got injections of Neulasta after each treatment to help my white count. Except for spending the last 6 weeks of treatment with bronchitis (it was a bad winter), I came through OK. I didn't lose all of my hair, it thinned out to about a third of it's normal thickness, so I can't help you with that! Other suggestions: accept any and all offers of help, even if you think you are OK. Your wife will probably get burned out, my husband sure did with taking care of me and our two little kids. It makes people feel good to help, so let them help. If you are interested in my blog, I can email it to you, but it is pretty much the same story as so many others: the shock, the anxiety, the sickness, the hope, the end of treatments, the struggle to find your new "normal". Good luck with everything!!! Liz
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Thanks for that Liz. That's a some great course knowledge. Please stay in touch. It's great to hear from folks who have been down the same path.
Where can I find your blog?
Thanks
Bill
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God Bless You.
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Holy crap now I am all teared up, Life is never the same after cancer, But when you beat it. Life is better... Ever need anything just let us know...
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I do hope that everything continues to get better for you and your family... One thing I was wanting to let you know that I have heard many things about Pure Hemp Oil with Pure THC Curing Cancer and those using it don't have to get chemo therapies at all... the youtube addy for the video is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjhT9282-Tw and its called The Rick Simpson Story bout how he made and used pure hemp oil with pure thc to cure his fathers cancer. Hope this video will help you out in killing this cancer with out having to continue the CHEMO treatments.. God Bless you and your family Bill...
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