Positive Thinking, I think

This has not been my year of good health. So, while I complain for a moment, bear in mind that you cannot say to me "at least you have your health." You can't say this because, well, this is a blog, but also if you were actually in earshot of me I would just give you "the look" that says "think about what you're saying and who you are saying it too." The look might also add "you twit" but that would depend on my feelings about you in general.

Allow me to whine (or, just, you know, close out the blog and don't read my whining). If you've been a careful reader you may have noted that I had breast cancer this year. (Really!) And then last month I had my first ever bladder infection (yes, I know, you're welcome; I share--it's what I do). And now, I've had that nasty cough, cold, sore throat bug thing that is not the swine flu (even though everyone wants to freak out that it is) for most of this week. And, sorry, but it kinda pissed me off. I think I've had my share of sick days this year, thank you very much. Now I feel like I'm going to become one of those people who catch everything that goes around-- pre BC I didn't really get sick very often at all. Pre-BC and stretching back to my early childhood I generally got sick once a year--usually around Halloween, which was just my elaborate ruse for getting out of trick or treating (I hate costumes and I dislike most candy--particularly chocolate; yes, you read that correctly). I don't have the time or patience to be a "sicky."

Sure, sure, my body has been through a lot this year and it's probably still in repair mode. Whatever. Health again, please. And the somewhat ironic thing is, I think I whined more about this cough sickness than I did during chemo. Chris can probably attest to that fact (see likely comment below). Like I said, I was pissed, I was not willing to admit I was sick (I did work at home on Wednesday but then on Thursday everyone in my office told me to go home. I think the mailman mentioned it too), and then when it was totally obvious I was indeed sick, I was a giant baby. But that got me thinking. I was wondering why I was a bigger wimp about my cough/cold than I was about chemo. And I had a little revelation.

I think I may have figured out that whole "keep a positive attitude" thing! When one gets diagnosed with breast cancer (or any other serious illness, I imagine) everyone says "just keep your positive attitude" or "stay positive" or some version of that. And I think most of the newly diagnosed think "what?" Okay, and me, I also think "we'll sure you're saying that--you don't want me breaking down and getting all crazy and sobbing on your watch because then you'd have to deal with that, so sure you want me to stay positive!!" And of course there is the "I can be all happy and giddy and downright perky and, um, I'm still going to have cancer" so what good does this staying positive thing do?  But here's the thing---as I went through all the slash, poison and burn stages of breast cancer treatment, for the most part it wasn't as bad as I was expecting so I pretty much thought, 'Huh, okay. I can do this." And I did.  I just marched on without spending too much time thinking about how awful it all was (okay, except to laugh at it in the blog; well, mostly laugh). I don't think I whined too much (see inevitable comments below from those in the know. ;-)  )  But now, this cough/ cold thing was totally unexpected and I wasn't prepared for it--so it was worse than I was expecting and I let that get to me. I didn't "stay positive." (um...I may have been feeling sorry for myself; I had a really shitty week last week and then got sick this week). Now that I get that whole "mind over matter" thing--I expect to be up and about and doing just fine tomorrow. Sure, I'm hacking up a lung, but it's all temporary. This too shall pass. All that happy, perky stuff.

Chris has escaped down to San Diego today and tomorrow for the Food & Wine Festival--I was too sick to go and he needed the break. That gives me 24 hours to perfect this "positive thinking" thing. Hey, I've done it before. Sort of.

If This Were Any Other Dog...

I've had my first post-cancer "If this were any other dog..."  experience. And once I again, I can thank Seamus for leading the way. See, after Seamus was all done with his cancer treatments and we moved into the every month, then every three months, then six months follow-ups, we began to notice a pattern. If anything was wrong with Seamus--if he was tired, if he threw up, if there was a fatty bump appearing, I'd rush him to the vets office and they would inevitably say, "Well if this were any other dog we'd tell you it was simple x or uncomplicated heressomeantibiotics y, or it's nothing but z. But with everything he's been through we should really check for superbadawfulthing that nobody wants happening to their dog." And hundreds of dollars and sheer panic later, we'd find out it was supersimplenobigdeal x. Eventually, I decided (probably two years into this; I'm not a fast learner) that as Seamus had already lived two years longer than anyone had expected (and that's 14 years to you and I) we could probably now treat  him like any other dog...let's rule out the small stuff first and then if need be we'll look into the C word and it's possible recurrence. Life got a lot easier and less expensive. Of course, this is Seamus so I've still had to rush him to the vet for things like, oh, knocking down and inhaling a bowl of dried fruits and nuts that included macadamia nuts (very dangerous to dogs). They gave him medication and up it all came (Dr. Davis assures me there were dried cranberries in the mix; thanks for sharing). Folks in my office (where it occurred) marveled that I knew to take him to the vet for that. When you have a beagle, especially a beagle like Seamus, you know these things. A beagle will eat anything. It's my job to know what will harm him. But at least I've learned it's just "any other beagle" stuff and not a recurrence of cancer.

My own "any other dog" experience happened last night. I go for my first three month check-up on the 28th. I've heard that this can be, much like the first post-treatment mammogram, a stressful time as it brings back memories of the disease and the treatment just about the time one has started to get back to normal. Plus, there is that constant "It might recur" feeling until one hits the magic 5 year mark (and I imagine, even after that). I wasn't really thinking about it or concerned at all. Until Sunday night.

I wasn't feeling good. I was really, really thirsty and having to um, well, uh...pee all the time. Then, I got a killer backache. By yesterday, I also had the chills--which were highly reminiscent of my white blood cell crash experience which Chris described in such glorious detail here. When I took my temperature it was 102. Not good. I got online to look up my symptoms at Web MD. And I should add here, I've never done that before in my life. I either tough it out or call my dad. But I was a little nervous because I felt a lot like I did the morning of the crash. Web MD was pretty good--I either had bladder or kidney cancer, or a bladder or urinary tract infection. WTF?? Then it also had a warning about getting medical attention immediately if the person was x,y, z or had a compromised immune system such as a person in chemotherapy. Um, okay, I'm going to start with the lesser of these choices. I'm going to pretend I am any other dog and rule out the easier one first. I had a compromised immune system (during chemo) but I don't any longer. Do I? I drank lots of cranberry juice, slept like there was no tomorrow, stayed home from work today and got antibiotics. I'm feeling a lot better. I am, I think, just any other dog. With a bladder infection.

The Rest of Beaglefest

I'm up and moving around. I no longer have a fever or the chills. I also have almost no energy, so it's one more day at home for me. Plus, I'm supposed to avoid being around sick people (right, that's why we sat at Quest Diagnostic for so long yesterday) and do you know anybody who isn't sick right now? Oh, and my mouth has little sores all over it (another side effect) and that combined with the metallic taste--not so good for eating. I tried a bowl of oatmeal, but only got about 1/2 way through it. Seamus gladly finished the rest. He's such an empathetic little dog.

But our Beaglefest report yesterday was interrupted by my fever, chills, et al (honestly, I got to shaking so bad I couldn't type; at Quest, Chris had to fill out the paperwork for me). And I know you are dying to know more. Did Seamus win most melodic howl? Last to come when called? King of Beaglefest? Alas, no. But that was totally his parents fault. We are bad beagle pageant parents. The first two of those competitions were over by the time we got there. And the third was just a drawing and you had to be present to win. Seriously, a drawing for King of Beaglefest? We thought it should be all about the backstory. Dog beats cancer. Dog teaches human all she needs to know to deal with her cancer. Dog and human travel from California to participate in Beaglefest, during human's chemo treatments!! We were a lock. But no. It was a silly drawing. And we didn't stay until 3 for the drawing. (We just told Seamus he won; and that was a mistake. His ego did not need that boost).

It was hysterically funny to see all those beagles and hear all the howling. Beagles truly come in all shapes (mostly fat) and sizes and colors, but there are some definite beagle traits. Like the love of food. This guy brought treats, so look how popular he was.
The had an off leash play area that was also very cute. It had a kiddie pool for the dogs, but Seamus did not want to bathe with the masses. So he made his own pool. This is a bucket where the dogs who did "Paw Painting" could wash off their paws after. Well, after Seamus got out of it. He stayed in just long enough to cool off and get his picture taken by a whole bunch of strangers.

They also had a "smooch-off" which I thought was interesting, because I've had 5 beagles in my lifetime, and not one of them has been a "kisser". Oh sure, they'll get right up in your face and sniff (food; it's all about food) but they don't lick. And sure enough, the smooch-off was a disaster. None of the beagles entered actually wanted to "kiss" the humans. Somebody needed to rub bacon grease on their face. I don't know how they finally picked a winner, but I bet that's not a contest next year.

So after about an hour of roaming around seeing the displays, petting a whole bunch of beagles, and letting Seamus go wild in the off-leash area, we'd seen what we needed to see and also realized it was darn hot and I wasn't supposed to be out in direct sunlight, it was dusty, there were an awful lot of people around (and you just know one of them was sick) and there was no place to sit down and rest for a minute (not even a little grass area; this is Phoenix). So we left. That's right, nearly 10 total hours of driving for 1 hour of Beaglefest. Totally worth it though, since we enjoyed the relaxing drive and it was good to get away and be "beagle person" instead of "cancer person." Which is, in hindsight, I think why we both wanted to go to this strange little event for the weekend. Plus, we stopped by and saw my dad and step-mom for dinner in Cathedral City on the way home, so that was nice too.

I'm not sure if Day 11 Beaglefest had anything to do with my Day 12 crash, but it's too late to worry about that now. I'll just know for the next 3 times that day 12 can be a rough one (although, next time they will be giving me another medication to keep the white blood cells up). For now, I've just got to avoid sick people for the next 7 to 10 days. I don't even know how that's possible. But I'll try.