Tuesday, September 15, 2009

The first Punch!

After weeks of scans and different tests, the doctors came to the conclusion that my cancer was called Desmoplastic Small Round Cell Tumors. Next they gave me a schedule of my chemo and told me how they needed to do a few more biopsy's and some "minor" surgery (they call it minor because for them it is, but for me, or anyone getting surgery, there is no such thing as a "minor" surgery). They told me I needed a Port put into my chest, a nurse explained to me that a port is a small plastic circle with a long tube that leads to my heart. She said that every time I went in for chemo I would be Stuck by 2 needles in this port. I asked her why they could not just put the needles in through my veins like they had done in the past. She explained to me that the types of Chemotherapy I was going to get were so strong, that they would eat through my veins if they attempted to do it that way..
It was a Wednesday that me, my parents and my 2 sisters went into Sloan, I was scheduled to go into the OR at 12:00, we ended up sitting around until 6:00, and finally my Doctor came in and said..."so, ya ready?"...i giggled and said.."as ready as I'll ever be". I don't remember much after that point, just a few kisses from my family, and a blurry looking room with lots of blue men and women wearing mask's. After that I heard my name being called and my shoulder held by my 2 sisters, it had been 3 hours that I was under anesthesia and when I woke up my eyes were covered in some sort of gooey gel that the doctors must of put on, but I could not see a thing. The only other thought on my mind was..where is a bucket, I'm gonna spew!...but that feeling soon went away, only it was not for long!
The next morning I woke up with holes in my belly button, and all over my stomach, and I had some odd shaped thing bulging out of the upper left part of my chest, this was the port. I can remember trying to sit up and feeling like a train had just hit me, I even said those words aloud, and the nurse told me to lie back down, she explained... "Morphine can make u feel that way". Soon after that is when the nausea decided to come back, I hadn't eaten in a few days so there was not much in my belly, and when you are standing over a toilet trying to throw up because the pain is so bad that you could brake down to the floor crying and just give up, You certainly wish u had food in your belly. The doctors eventually realized that this Morphine stuff was the cause of all my nausea, so they switched my pain pump to something called Diloted, this was much better, it relaxed me, took away the pain, and best of all, didn't make me want to rip my stomach out.
Originally the plan was for me to come home for the weekend after my surgery, my family had planned a big "Just Beat It" party where all my friends and family would shave their heads with me. We had music, games and even a super duper weenie truck!, Shirts were made and hundreds of people were invited to this "event". I was so excited, but at the same time.....I felt like shit. The doctors realized this and decided it would be best if i stayed in the hospital. So down went the party, and in went my Chemo. It hadn't been three days since my surgery and I had already started my first round of Chemo, well let me tell you.. this was not fun, the puking began, and worst of all, the mouth sores... I literally did not eat more than a full piece of toast for 8 days, I couldnt!!!....... Imagine trying to swallow nails, or crushed glass...thats a little bit what it felt like when I tried to drink water. So for those 8 days I was at Sloan, we had a nice room with a view of the water, and I had many visitors to keep my mind off the pain, But my right thumb was on my Diloted pump every 10 minutes, they set it up so I could get a "relief" every 10 minutes, but it was on a constant drip going in through my port at all hours. So you can imagine how loopy I was for those 8 days. There was only 1 day during all of those 8 days where I felt some what good, and when I say some what good, that just means I was not spitting into a bucket every 6 seconds because I had so much mucus in my throat. But the one day where i felt some what good, was when all my friends came to see me, they made me laugh, they told me stories about summer...they made me feel like I did before I began going through what i like to call hell, but a wise man once told me..."if you are going through hell, keep going". Anyways, that was a good day..and a few days after that...I found myself being able to drink a full glass of water with out screaming bloody murder....things were getting better...and the next thing i knew, I was home. Ahh home sweet home!....I had a week back at home where I felt...ehhhh ok-ish, slept on the couch mostly every day..and then it was back for round 2!..........

The first post!

I can remember waking up in the hospital bed at St Vincents, it was my first night there and the only information I knew was that there was something called a mass inside of me. I come to find out now that a mass is just a word doctors use when they don't have a name for what they are looking at. I was scared on that day, only because millions of thoughts went through my head on what the word mass could possibly mean, but I will tell you the truth, Cancer was never one of them. It was not until a few days later when a doctor came into my room, he tried to explain to me that there was something in my body that did not belong. There was something about this doctor that I did not like, he was cold, and he seemed like he had no idea what was going on. Finally i asked one of my loved ones what was going on. I said in such a voice of disbelief "do I have cancer"?....the looks in every ones eyes, the way the doctor couldn't tell me what was going on...I began to cry....long and hard, family came up to me and said things like "You will beat this", and "don't worry, the doctors are amazing"...but at the time...i did not hear one word. I was in a different world, and i knew from that day on, my life would not be the same. It took a few days, and a few meetings with doctors for me to realize, that I was only 16...I have a whole life to live....i cant let this son of a bitch cancer come in and try to change that!...so from that moment on my mind has been set....and i have no doubt in my mind..that i will kick the shit out of this god damn cancer, and will go on to live my life the way it is supposed to be....HEALTHY!!!! ...i know it may take a while, and some shitty times are ahead..but i will keep my head up and my spirits high....so post some thoughts or ideas..anything u want really...and i will be on here updating and telling you about my experiences, and how i feel!!