I'm Too Sexy for My Hair

Thus goes a t-shirt print from this website that one of my friends directed me to. I loved that. Another print goes "I'm having a No Hair day". =) The site's really hilarious!

My hair has been falling off since Tuesday evening. By far, the heaviest fall out was last Thursday. That morning, I'd just shake my head, and hair will be falling off my head, by afternoon, they just keep falling off even if I stayed still. I woke up yesterday morning, feeling that half of my hair's fallen off. But when I checked how I look in the mirror, I still looked normal, albeit a more thinned out top; no trace of a plucked chicken look at all.

What's eating me more is the perception of being unhygienic. So, I bound my hair (what's left of it) into a cap yesterday and waited for some friends to fetch me and accompany me to Bruno's (a local chain of barbershop).

We finally made it to Bruno's around 2:30 pm. My friend have to repeat 3 times that I am going to have my head shaved! It's as if what he said is not at all an option! We finally managed to convince them that it is indeed I who wants to have all of my hair off.

Cap off, and the barber shaved away! Beneath my mask (I have to wear a mask whenever I go out), I was grinning like silly. Midway, I have to tell myself to stop grinning like a kid who got all the goodies during holloween. Then, the barber's done, leaving me with a buzzed head. I told him that I'm not happy with a buzzed head, for the remaining hair will still fall off, and I would still have the same problem. So, I asked the barber to shave the rest, all the way to the skin.

Now, I feel happier, more relaxed and a whole lot cleaner! So there goes the story of my hair. =) The end. The sequel will be out after 6 months, when my hair will start to grow back! Aaaahhh, life's such an adventure!

Wanted

I never realized how active I was with badminton in my life before cancer. I am a part of this badminton egroup and even played quite a role in it.

This year, after being so visible, I dropped out of sight, not being able to play (doctors' orders, not by personal choice) and having to focus on getting well. Naturally, some people have started to look for me. Friends would text me how I am, when and where do I play; some just wondered what's been happening to me. Others would even goad me, saying that I'll turn fat (I am already fat! in case they haven't noticed). Another said that the standard answer is that I'm waiting for my hair to grow back as it was before I'll play again. Bottomline is, I'm starting to feel like a wanted fugitive. =)

Until now, only a handful of people from this group of friends know about my condition. I have only seen some of them once or twice this year, and I was being ribbed on my transitional hairdo then. I have debated (and still is debating) with myself if I should tell the group about the cancer. I don't want pity from these people, for there's no reason to pity me. I also don't want a deluge of text messages and/or phone calls with the other end being awkward and not knowing what to say; for I would not know what to tell them too. I also don't want to hear any more smart assed (more like ignorant) comments on why I got cancer.

So, I have this reply that's fast becoming a standard: that I'm involved in a huge project (the project being OPLAN Vangie - healing and curing of Vangie - what else? my, how vain!); and that this project requires my full attention. And lastly, I'll see and play with them again. No time frame, only the promise of being visible once again. A promise I intend to keep!

Beauty Parlor

I woke up this morning with hair all over my pillow, my side of the bed. Then I staggered into the bathroom to take a bath. And most probably, I have left a trail of hair in my path.

Taking a bath is a wonder; after shampooing and rinsing, I was amazed at the number of hair that fell out. Nope, I did not count it this time, but it should easily run up to 3 digits. It's quite an experience to see how much hair can fall off. Of course, I have to towel dry my hair. I started out patting my head, but when the water still dripped, I gently rubbed. Ho! More hair! *big grin* I asked the help to sweep the bathroom floor afterwards. Wow! Looks like somebody had a haircut in there.

Travelling to work, I wore a cap over my hair, as I don't want to be shedding all over the cab. When I got to work, I took off the cap and shook my head. What do you know? Yep, I'm still shedding! Hehehe. I have to ask the help to sweep the floor of my office, and it looked like somebody had a haircut there too!

At times, I fancy that I can feel the actual moment when certain strands of hair are being detached from my scalp. There would be a mild tickling/itchy sensation, and then moments later, I can actually feel it falling out. I really find this amusing. I have to concentrate to stop grinning, lest people think I'm not at all well in the head! On the other hand, am I?

Maybe I should have my head shaved already. Seems like I don't want to be a Gollum wannabe. No offense to Gollum fans out there! =)

It's Working! It's Working!

I think I'm not normal. And you can agree with me.

A lot of cancer survivors' biggest nightmare is when their hair starts to go. Some really find it traumatic; even the thought would have them tossing and turning at night.

I, on the other hand, have psyched myself up for this eventuality since the day I found out I have cancer. Olive and I were talking about wigs, hats and scarves, something like Samantha in Sex and the City.

It's been two weeks since my first chemo treatment; and honestly, I'm starting to wonder if the drugs were doing their thing. I was ready since day 5 (post chemo) for my hair to fall out. When nothing happened, I don't now if I'm to be happy, worried or thankful that my hair haven't been falling out. I decided to be thankful.

So when my hair started to fall out yesterday, I was a bit dumbfounded. It seems no matter how prepared one think one is, one can't really be ready for the sight of a bunch hair in one's hand. And then, I smiled, probably even laughed. What was going through my head? "Yehey! The drugs are working!"

Today, I find myself unable to stop reaching for my hair, gently tugging at it to see if more will come out. More did. At the rate I'm going, I'd make myself look like Gollum in no time. *LOL* I have to resist the temptation to touch my hair every now and then. But my scalp's still itchy.

Next question: will I disguise my baldness or will I wear it proud?

Melissa Etheridge

Melissa Etheridge is a Grammy Awardee rock star who is also a breast cancer survivor. I never heard of her until last week for I'm never into rock music. (See her story here)

Last Monday, I was a Dame Judi Dench Wannabe, now I'm a Melissa Etheridge wannabe (bear in mind here we're talking about hairdos!) I'm contemplating if I should shave my hair by next week or should I just wait for every strand to fall out on their own? Will I be willing to be a Gollum wannabe? *big grin* What do you think?

Let's all see in a week or two!


Melissa Etheridge and Partner Tammy Lynn Michaels

EDSA I

This coming Friday, February 25, has been declared a holiday. This is to commemorate the first People's Power Revolution, now also known as EDSA I. There are some celebrations already on the way, starting yesterday.

Yesterday, I had my own version of the "People's Power Revolution"; only mine was on my head. My scalp have been itching on and off since Saturday last week. I find it weird but dismissed it as nothing. Well, apparently, that nothing is something.

When I shampooed my hair yesterday, I noticed some hair on my hands. I counted 25. Big deal! Nothing to worry about, for one can lose up to 100 strands of hair a day. But coming from 10 a few days ago (when I was so bored I counted the strands of hair on my towel after I towelled it dry), 25 is quite something. Yeah, right! Braggart!

Then last night, my scalp started to itch again. I absent-mindedly reached over and scratched. When I looked at my hand after, there were a few strands of hair that came out. Uh-oh, I'm starting to shed.

I think my hair decided to be patriotic and wanted to celebrate EDSA I in their own way - by abandoning my head. *LOL*

Dame Judi Dench Wannabe

I went to Calamba again yesterday, to get another haircut. I had one just 4 weeks ago, where we had chopped off my long hair to prepare for the hair loss that comes with chemotherapy. After 4 weeks, my hair grew an inch! (average hair growth is half inch a month) And since I am still anticipating possible hair loss, I had my hair cropped closer to my head. I'm striving to copy Dame Judi Dench's haircut, especially the one she sported in one of those James Bond movies. But my hair have a mind of its own, they refuse to stay down, stubbornly standing on their ends! =) Very much like the person whom they are attached to, I guess. *LOL* Yesterday, Ipe took care of it by putting on hair wax. Today, I took care off it by wearing a hat during the drive to work. Both ways work. Yay! *big grin*

One of my colleagues said I look ugly with my new 'do. I laughed and told that person to deal with it, tough luck! I am happy with the way I look and I feel beautiful inside out!


Dame Judi Dench

In Appreciation

Things I appreciate most nowadays:

1. a good appetite
2. facing the challenges of the day ahead (could be as trivial as trying to keep my energy level up)
3. my sense of humor (thank God I can still laugh at things; most of all, laugh at myself!)
4. supportive and loving friends
5. long lost friends coming out of the woodworks
6. my ability to sleep through the night (as insomnia is one of the side effects of chemotherapy)
7. the taste of food
8. my breast cancer support group
9. my health
10. my prune juice (to battle against constipation)
11. being able to be on the get go for 10 hours at a stretch
12. naps I take when I need to recharge
13. an occassional sweet
14. my oncologist (she's the best!)
15. being pampered
16. my badminton gear that is patiently waiting for my comeback *big, toothy grin*
17. best of all, the love and support of my family! *hugs and kisses*

Things I Miss Most

Sometimes, it is frustrating not being able to do all the things that I used to take for granted. While under treatment, there are a lot on the list of "not to do". After almost two months into this disease, I think these are the things I miss most:

1. playing badminton every monday
2. watching movies
3. mall ratting with Olive
4. playing badminton occassionally on thursdays
5. driving (this is synonymous with independence - to a certain degree, anyway - for me)
6. taking my time doing my grocery shopping (it's always speed shopping now)
7. eating greasy food (like french fries)
8. eating barbecue/grilled food
9. playing badminton on saturdays
10. eating sweets like there's no tomorrow
11. tying my long hair back when I feel hot
12. being able to be on the get go for as long as 18 hours a day
13. playing badminton on sundays
14. having a sharp memory (I think some brain cells of mine went down the drain with the anaesthesia; what's left are slowly being fried by chemotherapy, hehehe)
15. being able to attend parties, any party!
16. eating junk food
17. have I mentioned playing badminton? *big, toothy grin*

Quality of Life

How does one define quality of life? For some, it is living to a ripe, old age. For others, it is living the moment. For others still, it is being happy; being profound; being giddy; being in love, etc. It differs from person to person.

For me, quality of life is being independent; being able to make choices; being able to live by those choices. Being saddled with the big C have greatly affected this. I have to learn how to follow orders (by doctors and well meaning friends and family members), to compromise, and the hardest part yet, to be able to come to terms that somehow, I am not as independent as I want to be.

There are certain things that well meaning people have taken for granted, dismissed as petty and inconsequential. But for me, these are things that I have to go through, that I have to do; for these are part and parcel of my coming to terms with my sickness. So, I have decided. I will live my life accordingly; with my definition of quality of life. For I will not look back and regret. Life is too short not to be enjoyed fully.

On Being Strong

Some of my colleagues talked to me the other day about my cancer. They were asking how I am coping with the chemotherapy and with cancer in general. So, I talked to them about it as honestly as I could.

Then one of them said that she admired me for being so strong, so positive, etc. I paused and think about what she said, and this is my reply:

With everyone rooting for me, cheering me on, encouraging me, being there for me; the least I could do is be strong and brave and fight this cancer head-on. I owe them that much for loving me. I do not have any right to give up, to feel depressed, to even wonder "why me?" As tired as I may be some times, I have to forge ahead and fight. This is my way saying thank you.

On my own, I am nothing. But with all the love and support behind me, I kick butt! =)

Fatigue

Today is the 7th day since my first chemo. So far, it was only yesterday that I felt real fatigue. When I got to the office in the morning, I'm already feeling a bit peaked. By lunch time, I was tired, so after a few bites, I tried to nap (I don't know if I succeeded). After lunch, it was downhill thereon.

I left the office at 4pm, hitched a ride home. When I got to the apartment, I lied down and tried to sleep. I felt as if I was in a limbo, balancing between sleep/rest and wakefulness. By 930, I fell asleep while watching tv; of course, the glass of wine helped. =)

Today is much better. I don't feel tired, got a good appetite. Thank you for the small blessings!

Tomorrow I'll be getting my blood count, hopefully, my white blood cell count won't be too low.

What Did You Do?

My sister is quite protective of me. She shows this in her own way. On the day of my surgery, she got to the hospital just when I was being wheeled out to the operating room.

Of course, I was crying myself silly by that time. When she saw me, she almost freaked out. She just assumed that one of our aunts (obviously not our favorite one) must have told me something to make me cry like that.

She almost attacked my aunt, I just don't know who managed to intervene and told her that I'm having a meltdown. But thank God somebody did!

Well, this is what I heard from my aunt: Don't cry. Don't worry. We will free for you.

I don't really know if that send me into more tears or had me choking from almost laughing. I know she meant well, and I appreciate it. Thank you, Tita.

Recovery Room Fiasco

I got to talk to Olive after I got back from Cagayan de Oro. Apparently she is with me when I was at the recovery room after my surgery.

While I was in la la land, she was harassing the nurses. Apparently the irritating sound I keep hearing is not a figment of my imagination. It was the monitoring apparatus of my vital organs. I have flatlined quite a few times, sending Olive into panic; making her harass the nurses in a falsetto voice just like in the cartoons.

They finally managed to discover that the connections were loose, thus making me flatline. Poor Olive; and poor nurses. Unnecessary stress. But now, we can look back at it and laugh.

Appetite

One of the side effects I'm experiencing is the loss of appetite. Ever since I kept throwing up everything I ate at the hospital, the mere thought of food is enough to send me gagging.

My caregivers have to be creative to entice me to eat. Yesterday, we had a sandwich party. I was able to eat one and a half ham and cheese sandwich for lunch. Not bad! I know I'm supposed to keep off processed food; but at this point, anything I eat is fine. Better than not eating at all! Once I gain back my appetite, hopefully in the next day or two, it's back to diet of fruits and veggies, with perhaps a bit of meat on the side.

I'm not supposed to totally stop eating meat since I would need all the protein I can get to help me recover more quickly from each dose of chemotherapy. Besides, it would not be all that good to lose any more weight, I have lost 12 pounds so far, according to my doctor friend. I can't grasp the whole logic behind it but I'll try to follow their instructions.

This disease is really teaching me a lot.

Confused Kid

Max have this habit of looking for people she knew when they are not around. Maybe she misses them (or so I would like to flatter myself!).

One time, while playing, she suddenly asked me where her mom is. So, I told her to ask her dad. Max ran out of her playroom, shouting at the top of her voice: "Dada! Dada!" When she finally saw my brother, she asked:"Mommy! Where's Daddy?"

There are also times when she would look for her Diko. She would ask me "Where's Diko?" I would say "What?" And Max would repeat: "Diko, where's Twako?"

I miss Max.

Taking Its Toll

Having this dreaded disease is taking a toll not only on me but also my family.

Mom had an upset stomach at the hospital; the same time as I was throwing up due to my katakawan (the "art" of being able to eat and eat and eat and eat)! I was teasing her about being as anxious (if not more) as I am. This she denied vehemently. But she became well again when she went home. She even got hungry.

Papa, on the other hand, is in Cagayan de Oro. And I'm sure he's also worried sick about me. I thought all's well with him for I was able to talk to him a couple of times for the past two days. Then I found out this morning that my brother have to rushed him to the hospital last night because of irregular heartbeat!

I called Papa up and assured him that all's well with me. I also told him to take things easier and take good care of himself.

One At A Time

I had my first chemotherapy two days ago. I have been having trouble sleeping since Monday. Even have a couple of dreams where I was at the hospital having my chemo already. Mom flew in from Cagayan de Oro to be with me. Papa wanted to come too but Ma overruled him, saying it's better for her to be the one here with me since she can take care of my food, etc. etc.

Thursday, I woke up around 5:30 am. Tried as hard as I could, I couldn't go back to sleep. So, I had my breakfast, took a bath, dressed up, and waited for Mama. We finally left for the hospital around 7:30 am. Once at St. Luke's, we went to the admitting office and got me admitted.

I finally had my chemo treatment administered to me around 11:30, in my room. My good Oncologist is there the whole time to monitor my progress. By 1:30, we were done. And now, the thumb twiddling part comes in. The next 12 to 16 hours would be crucial. For it will be during this time that any adverse side effect and/or reaction will arise.

By 3 pm, I was hungry. So, I had a pear. And then I had congee. After eating the congee, I felt queasy. Uh-oh, I think I had too much to eat! A bit later, I saw my lunch and the pear and the congee again. Not a pretty sight. After that, I don't know who's paler, mom or me! Hehehe. Poor Mama. I was miserable for the rest of the afternoon.

My ex-roommate is a doctor and she volunteered to stay with me for the night. Mom didn't want to go, but we finally convinced her. I drifted off to sleep around 8 pm. I did not even noticed when Ma went home. I woke up around 10 with a headache. Ahh, dehydration, another side effect of chemotherapy! So, I drank water, and after a short while, threw it up again. They finally gave me Nexium (a drug for nausea and queasy stomach). After that, I felt better and was able to eat a few bites of baguette. I fell asleep again around 12 midnight.

Overall, my chemotherapy is quite uneventful. One down, five more to go.

In Search of The Perfect Rug

I got a free book from the mail from a local breast cancer group/foundation. In it are testimonials, list of support groups, etc. I browsed through it and finally found the pages I wanted! The list of wig makers!

I got in touch with two of them and made appointments to see them on February 5, Saturday. A friend is kind enough to go with me, to drive me to these appointments.

The first appointment went from bad to worse. It was a downhill conversation right from the start. And when I saw a sample of their work, I couldn't get out of there fast enough!

Then, we went to Robinson's Galleria. To Scarlet Wigs. The synthetic wigs I saw there were way better than the "human hair" sample I saw earlier. They also have human hair wigs but it costs an arm and a leg! I think I'd rather use that money for my treatments.

By this time, I have pretty much made up my mind. I'm going au naturelle. Bald? So what? I guess deep down I've always wondered how I would look if I'm bald. So, the decision to go bald is easy. That plus the prohibitive cost of a wig! The cheapest quotation I have is PhP 6,500.00! And that is the synthetic hair under the disguise of being human hair! Totally sucks! You have problems of me being bald? Well, you deal with it! Atapang a Vangie! hehehe

I kept my afternoon appointment and I'm glad I did. Otherwise, I might not have met a darling lady. She herself is a cured of thyroid cancer, so I guess she can symphatize with me more than the other. So, we just chit chatted. First she asked me what my chemotherapy protocol would be. I said once every 3 weeks, for 6 cycles. She said I'd be bald for just 3 to 4 months (as opposed to the other one saying I'll be bald for a year!) and if I'm comfortable being bald, to just use the money for my treatments! She's really amazing. Before I left her office, I promised to keep her abreast with my progress.

Crowning Glory

A friend told me that I will lose my "crowning glory" once I started with my chemotherapy treatment. When I found out that I had cancer, I have prepared myself for that eventuality.

The first weekend after I got back from Cagayan de Oro, I went to Calamba (with Olive and Jerome) to have my hair cut by Ipe, another good friend. I decided to maximize the hair that I could save so that I can use it for my wig. We chopped about 12 inches of hair (the shortest at 8 inches).

I call this my "transitional look". The look between long hair and getting bald. Now, to have that wig made!



Transition Look

Counting One's Blessings

I never realized so many people cared for me until I got cancer. I got all sorts of reactions when I tell them that I'm not well. I dread keeping them in the dark and yet I don't want them to worry about me.

Some cried.
Some were too stunned to say anything.
Some scolded me for not taking more care of myself.
Some scolded me for not getting married and having kids. (as if this is a 100% breast cancer free guarantee! Hah!)
Some are more tensed and worried than I am.
Some prayed and continues to pray for me.
Most of them freaked out.

And I thank them all, for somehow, I mattered to them. I'm so blessed!

Kindness of A Stranger

On the my first check-up after being discharged from the hospital, I finally got to meet one very special lady surgeon. Like me, she also had breast cancer. She dropped by my brother's office to lend me some books (a total of 5). The books were about cancer. She even directed me to a website of a breast cancer support group!

In a span of a less than 10 minutes, I felt she is able to help me more than the oncologist I talked to before. Perhaps being a cancer survivor herself made all the difference. God bless her!

Kiddie Songs

I have a niece who's turning two in a couple of weeks. Max likes to sing. And she would make people sing along with her. One time Max turned to me and said "Twako*, you sing!"

Oh boy! That's a tall order from such a small person! (for I DON'T sing!) I said I can't sing. She looked at me, puzzled, and then her face brightened up and said "PLEASE, Twako", with all the sweetness of a baby girl. Now, how can you refuse? Good thing that kid is not finicky about people being able to carry a tune (not yet anyway). I agreed, on the condition that she sings with me.

And so we sang:
Max and I: Baa, Baa, Black sheep, have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full.
Max: One for the monster and one for the dame...

Cute kid! *LOL* She's on the right track...

*Twako is the chinese term of "eldest" aunt; Diko is 2nd to the "eldest" aunt, and so forth and so on

Filipino Ingenuity

I guess there are still a pretty big part of the country (most especially in the provinces) that have yet to enjoy running water inside the households. It is a common sight to see a couple of men pushing this improvised cart full of water containers to distribute to the houses in their community.

The carts I saw was flat, with no side panels to box the water containers in. The carts have a steering wheel (like that of a car), brakes, and horns as loud as those of the 18-wheeler trucks. The containers are just like those 5-gallon rectangular containers when we buy our drinking water. Some carts would be carrying 3 containers across by 10 containers deep. That's plenty of containers and I guess, pretty heavy too.

On my way home from Bukidnon, at an intersection along the highway, I saw one of these carts being pushed by two men. While waiting for an opportunity to cross the highway, one of these men quickly jumped down from the cart, bringing a rope with him. He run to the truck in front of them and quickly tied the rope to the bumper of the truck. Ho! Filipino ingenuity! They got a "free ride" for the next couple of miles! =)

That's The Way It Is

After I got discharged from the hospital, my parents were watching over me like hawks. I'm even kidding that they would put the PSG and the Vatican guards to shame. I guess it is just their way of dealing with the things. I think that's how parents are; they would do everything humanly possible to protect their kids. If only they could will away this illness, they will; and I love them for that. =)

After my drain's finally off, I asked permission to stay with my brother at Bukidnon. I want to give my parents some time off from worrying (as if I can achieve that!) and give them time to accept that things will eventually have to go back to the way it was - with me living in Manila.

On the way to Bukidnon, I saw that one common mode of transportation for people in this part of the country is the motorcycle. It is a common sight to see a whole family riding in one. Normal load is three passengers, with the driver almost sitting on the gasoline tank. Since the drivers are so used driving this way, I was amused to see for myself that they still sit that way up front even when they are riding the motorcycle all by their lonesome self! How I wish I had taken a picture of that! =)

Ooopppsss...Did I Really Say That?

On the second day of stay at the hospital, I'm really itching to take a shower! I feel so dirty and sticky. Ugh!

When the surgeon made his round that day, I asked permission and was thankfully allowed to. I just have to be careful.

So, after dinner, around 9, only the family's at the room. I said to Olive: "'Lebs, shower tayo." ('Lebs, let's take a shower.) Then, we looked at each other with surprised expressions on our faces and laughed out loud! Ooooo, did I really say that?

Anxiety Attack

My hospital stay have to be extended another day bacause my blood pressure won't go down. The night before I was to be discharged, my blood pressue was at 160/100. So, I decided to get some rest. I slept around 1030. At 2AM, I was wide awake. Olive's still awake, so, I asked her to come talk to me, for I can feel myself starting to panic. I think, no, I know I'm having an anxiety attack.

We talked and I drank some chamomile tea. Olive asked me what I'm anxious about. I said I'm anxious about my blood pressure. Now, how do you fight that? There I was, supposed to get calm or rested enough so that my blood pressure will stabilize, and yet it's exactly the thing that I'm anxious about! How do I win this? *LOL* I'm in deep shit here!

I finally felt calm enough to sleep again. But what do you know? An hour and a half later, I was awake again, and I can't sleep no matter how hard I try. When the nurse came at 6 o'clock. My blood pressure have shot up to 170/120. They gave me something to get my BP down. After an hour, it's gone down to 150/100. Still high, so I had another sublingual dose of medication. During the day, it never went below 130/90.

Nevertheless, I asked to be discharged. As I can't get enough rest at the hospital. With friends and family visiting, and the nurses checking up on me every now and then, I'd rather go home. It's a good thing that my doctors agreed. They discharged me with medications to calm me down. And I'm counting my blessings.

Pre-Operation Preparations

A few days after my diagnosis, my surgeon lent me a book. It was on breast cancer surgical procedures. In it are the statistics and data on the pros and cons of the different procedures. Hhmmm...should I even try to read this?

What the hey, it's there, so I read the medical journals until my eyes glazed over, trying to understand the things written there. My brother saw me reading the book. He kidded me and asked if I could understand what I'm reading. I said, except for the medical terms, I understand it perfectly fine! *LOL* I even gave him a summary of the current journal I'm reading; he got impressed. I said, I'd probably be a quack by the time I finished the book.

Well, I didn't finished the book. I didn't read the last two journals. I don't want to be a quack. *big grin*

Actually, I can only digest so much information. hehehe

Wake Up! Wake Up!

I remembered waking up, or perhaps regaining conciousness some time later. How much time have passed, I don't know. All I know that I think the operation's done. Hallelujah! I tried to open my eyes but I can't. I tried to smile but I can't. I tried to say hello to the people in the room but I can't.

I dreamily heard the voices of my parents, my siblings, and some relatives. I wonder what they are doing? Then I heard them speaking in hushed voices that they're going home. I wanted to say goodnight and thank them for being there but I can't open my eyes! I also heard them arguing who will be staying with me for the night. I think my brother won that argument.

When I am finally able to open my eyes, the room was dimly lit, with just the light over my bed on. There's somebody beside me, fussing over me. When I looked up, who's she? Oh, it's the nurse who'll look after me for the night. Nerd came over to asked how I am. Then, I realized why I woke up. I was perspiring. It's hot! Please adjust the thermostat. Nerd laughed, for he and the nurse are shivering. But I feel hot! They finally relented and adjusted the thermostat. I asked for water, but they say I still can't have some. Bummer! I'm really thirsty. So I slept my frustration away.

La La Land

Next thing I know, I suddenly jerked awake and shouted: "Suka ako!" (I'm going to barf!) And proceeded to do just that. And then I was shouting that I'm in pain, so much pain, I wanted to be put out of my misery.

And then there's this irritating high pitched sound going "tooooooooooooooooott......". One long sound. Will somebody make it stop, please? Where are the people in this forsaken la la land? I seem to be floating. Somebody's waking me up, telling me to take a deep breath. I wanted to tell that person to leave me alone and let me sleep. But she persisted. I finally took a deep breath so that I can tell her to let me be; what do you know? When I took that breath, the irritating sound stopped and became a blipping sound at regular intervals! I wonder: is that me? What's wrong with me?

And I slipped into darkness again.

Chernobyl

When the door of my hospital room closed after the nurse left. I started to tear up. Pa asked me why am I crying. I said I'm scared. I can't stop the tears from flowing. I managed to clam up when the anaesthesiologist came to my room to introduce himself. When he saw how stressed out I was, he prescribed a sedative.

I took the medication and fell asleep after a few minutes. I woke up when the nurse came into the room to get my blood pressure again. The moment I opened my eyes, I started crying again. After a few minutes, I fell right back to sleep again. I woke up around 2-ish, as if sensing that I'm about to be wheeled to the operating room.

And there goes the waterworks again. This time, I didn't fall asleep again after a few minutes. I was really crying my eyes out, no matter how hard I try to calm myself down, no matter how hard people around me tried to calm me down, I was still spilling tears like the Niagara. Ate Genie tried to divert my attention by talking to me. I would answer her between sobs and blowing my nose. But I can't still stop the waterworks. My blood pressure's still up, I am still crying. Though I was drifting off to sleep, I was still going on at it.

The last thing I remembered is the anaesthesiologist putting the mask over my face. I vaguely remembered holding the mask in place as it keeps on slipping off while the doctor is asking the nurse to give him something to hold the mask with. And then I went out like the light, grateful to slid in to blissful oblivion.

Admission

After playing badminton, I never find it hard to fall asleep. But this particular night, on the eve of my operation, I could hardly sleep. I finally slept around 1 AM; and I kept waking up in the middle of the night. The next morning, I woke up at 6, took a bath and had my breakfast. Fasting for the operation will start by 7 o'clock, the operation is scheduled for 2 in the afternoon.

By 8 o'clock, Papa and I were on our way to the hospital to get admitted. Mama have to go to school (she's a teacher). So, I had my medical history taken, had chest x-ray, liver ultrasound and blood taken for CBC. I was weighed in, hmm, I lost 6 pounds! But Papa was glaring at me because of the numbers on the scale! If only it's my IQ! *LOL* Then I got my blood pressure taken too. Uh-oh, 130/90, a bit high. I said I'm a bit nervous.

When all the admitting procedures were done, the hospital staff ordered for an orderly to wheel me to my room. Now, my room is on the 3rd floor, and there's no elevator. So, I offered to go by myself to the room but the staff wouldn't hear of it. Hospital procedure! So, I sat on the wheelchair and got myself wheeled to my room. The ramp going up is perhaps at a 15 to 20 degree angle. Quiet steep. When we got there, I thought that the orderly's going to collapse! I quickly got out of the chair and apologized. *hehe, sorry!*

The nurse came in and had me changed into the hospital gown. I asked where the opening should be, the nurse said front. When I came out of the bathroom, she took a look at me and said: I said that the opening should be at the back! I laughed. And then I said to leave it be as my operation will be in front. Better and easier access. Then she put the IV line on me.

This is it!

One Last Hurrah Before the Long Break

The night before my operation, Olive has to meet a friend. In a badminton court. Olive's not exactly a fan of the game but I'm nuts about it. I used to do a lot of things before I got hooked to the sport. I'd read books, do cross-stitch and other crafts, go out with friends, etc. When I discovered badminton, everything else took a back seat.

Olive's friend knows that I play badminton, so he told Olive that I should be there, too and play a game or two. =) How can I say no? So, I asked permission from the family doctor (my brother, who else?) and he said okay! Yehey! This will be my first game for the year! And who knows when the next game will be!

So there I was; "a game or two" turned out to be two hours of fun! I was almost never off the court during those two hours. One thing I noticed when I played during this vacation is that once I stepped on the court, two hours will pass before I get to step off.

I savored the time for I know it will be quite a while before I can pick up the racquet again.

Powers That Be

We have an uncle who is a retired surgeon in the United States of America. The only time I remembered meeting him was during the wedding of Nerd and Genie. As kids, Tito Toto and Papa are joined at the hips, getting into mischiefs and adventures together.

When he learned about my condition, he insisted that the biopsy slides be sent to the States for a second opinion. So, we "Fed-Ex"ed the slides. Tito called us up January 4, a day before my scheduled operation. He had called in favors and asked not one, nor two, but FIVE pathologists to look at my slides to verify if it indeed was cancer. Wow! Talk about "powers that be"! Well, thing is, not one of the five pathologists can commit 100% that it is indeed cancer since it is only FNA (fine needle aspiration) sample.* The "best reading (?)" I got is "the sample is suspicious"; or something like that. "Suspicious" meaning "looks like cancer". So, Tito recommended that I went ahead with my surgery as scheduled. And to have the QUART procedure.

And so be it. Operation on January 5!

*Side note: don't ask me why the sample is not enough to draw concrete conclusions, I don't know why. Let's look for a doctor to explain why. =)