Poop, breasts and labels

05-08-2020

Premeds galore

Well, poop, and walls, both of which I experienced today. This was by far, the hardest day I’ve had since starting Chemo three, nearly 4 weeks ago. I am pretty sure I brought this on myself, simply by indulging in food that was super yummy, but not the best for my gut, and it hit me hard. I wasn’t prepared to take the anti-diarrhea meds, because it didn’t seem like I would need it, until I hit the wall of exhaustion and it was one, bad ass crash. I had to get in bed for the first time in a couple of weeks and wait for the meds to work and then take more. It took two days to resolve, and I promised myself to do a better job taking care of my gut.

Breasts and Mother’s Day Nothing is more symbolic than a nursing baby when examining the love of a mother and child as they invoke on their entangled lives together. Some will be very long, loving and caring relationships, some will not be, and still others will be minimal with the time a mother spends with her child. It’s the paths that each chooses and we can grow from it or resent, but it is a choice. I find it a bit ironic that the thing that’s trying to kill me, is also the most salient symbol of providing life after a baby is born. I nursed both of my daughters, but neither for long periods. With the first, she was colicky and sleeplessness was common and we didn’t have the strong support systems in place today to work through tough nursing situations. It was easier with Tiffanie since she was a quiet baby that slept for many hours at a time, so I continued to nurse her for about 6-7 months, and both having kids and nursing are factors in reducing breast cancer, so I like to think that helped starve it off for a time, but not entirely. 05-12-2020 Chemo day, for the 4th treatment. 1/3 of the way done with this schedule. Lots of extra stuff today and Paz is my friend for making the blood going out and the drugs going in so much easier. With the pre-meds done, I’m always a bit conflicted about writing when I have these treatments. I’m now sleepy with the Benadryl that Lilly gave me first, along with the saline that I didn’t get last time. And to that end, now I have to pee and need a nap, but I wait until the first drug is completed before I make my way to the bathroom. As I pick up my Ipad to write, simple words take some thought to spell out at times, so I’m slow with my writing and I get lost a bit in what I’m trying to relay, so please forgive me any typos, spelling and/or other grammar flubs. I think this falls into the “Chemo brain” category, but I’m also not entirely sure it’s not the steroid having a knock-down, drag-out fight with the Benadryl, and it’s all taking place in the boxing ring known as my body. “Round 4”, the Ring Girl might saunter around with a sign announcing the obvious, and as she does, she smacks me upside the head as she passes, leaving me down for the count—at least in my imagination, and making me question what those ring girls are for in the first place? Surely people know what round it is in a boxing ring? (Sarcastic overtones here!) See, weird thoughts on this mix of chemicals and my overactive brain. It is the last day of Nurse’s Week, and there is a fun sign that is hung across the large nurses station that says thank you to the nurses.

Thank you Nurses

On a personal level, I so appreciate the care I have been given and the efficiency of this well-oiled group of specialists. There are but a few, rare sports teams that work in such tight support and tandem with each other; always available to help each other, fill in so lunches and breaks can be taken, all the while doing some mighty fancy footwork as they dance from patient to patient, around equipment, chairs, hazmat waste, plugs and IV machines to medicate, aide and visit with those of us that have surrendered our very lives to this ultimate life game and it’s players. Thank you to these amazing people that are also having to hold down the fort at home as well, albeit kids, pets, or just taking care of themselves, only to then come to work to hold the hands, stroke the egos and supply the medications that intend to extend or save the lives of strangers. These are the true miracle workers in so many ways, and with Covid19 they risk their own lives to take care of others with humility and grace and are often not thanked for their efforts. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I did all the things I had planned to do today before and after treatment. I fasted 24 hours again, drank lots of water and coconut water, ate my ice chips for the Taxol treatment to avoid mouth sores, and sucked on a mint during the Heparin cleaning of Paz to avoid the yuck taste in my mouth. I was back in the big room again with all the other chairs full of patients, and because this was a longer treatment, it was nice to have a lot of activity around. It’s life in motion that helps me to contemplate my belly button, and many other things around me, otherwise I would likely just nap a lot. I also like to people watch, looking at habits and patterns of movement, since watching dogs and their movements is my business—I like to also watch the same in people. It gives me insight into our human race, and ultimately how the human species intermingles with the canine and feline species.

I also use this time to notice me, and today, I noticed my hair started falling out, which I thought was happening yesterday, but then poo-pawed as just normal hair, but it’s happening for sure. It’s not in big clumps or anything, but when I run my fingers though my hair, it’s long strands and noticeably from the chemo and not normal hair loss. I still just find it interesting and not something that bothers me all that much because it does grow back.

The brave people are those with true Alopecia that bravely move though the world proud of who they are, not defined by body hair, but their strength to accept their fate and share with others how to live normal and healthy lives. “Bull,” on American Ninja Warriors is such a person, and a singer Cedric, on The Voice that talked about her Alopecia trials in life. Both found ways to move past the things happening to their bodies, and embrace who they are, no matter what they look like, and both are very beautiful people in every way, giving hope to others that this should not be their identity. Which brings me to “labels,” and how we so quickly define people by what they look like, where they live, their gender, their color and even their wealth, to name a few. It’s a hard lesson to not label people, and rather look at behavior as to where they are in life and their choices for living their best life or not. I challenge anyone that reads this to try and describe a few of the people they know, not by how they look, or by their color or disease, but just simple behavior descriptions. Rather than, “She is OCD all day long,” something like, “I watched her rearrange the pantry 4 days this week, and she appeared to be exhausted from all the moving and lifting.” Or, if you wanted to talk about someone that a close friend of yours doesn’t know, how would you describe that person more generally, rather than something like, “She’s black and from the South,” which congers up our own, personal “label,” depending on our background and likely our locale. If the fact that someone is a different race than yourself is pertinent, somehow, that might be important to disclose, say for instance if your friend is going to meet that person for you to pick up something important, that seems appropriate, but not so for the general description of that person.

Labels tell us nothing about the person, their kindness, their attention to detail, their essence, and hopefully we will all get better at looking for what is inside not on the outside, or become very good at describing behavior in humans that point toward the choices that person makes in life. Dr. Susan Friedman, PhD has an entire agenda called, “Unlable me,” for animals, and in that world can dictate the very life of a dog or a cat or any species that has encounters with humans. I’m still hoping she will take it even further and encourage others that use the labels of “Shelter, rescue or foster dog/cat” in her talks about this, as those labels can also become a death sentence to the very animals that need to be understood, rather than labeled. It is often assumed that a “Shelter dog,” is not the same as a regular dog—that they are somehow different. It also diminishes them to something other than just dogs, with very normal dog behaviors that many dogs display around people. It points to them being “broken,” somehow, rather than needing us to help them live with and around humans. This often happens when people don’t understand the science and observation standards for canines, and try to place their own feelings about unwanted behavior toward their companion animals.

The words and thoughts matter, “He is shy, aggressive, destructive, out of control, hyper, stupid, a rescue, reactive,” and so many more labels are assigned to animals in the care of people that haven’t leaned about dog behavior and this often leads to giving up on the animal, because, they are somehow fractured and simply because they are a “Shelter dog, cat, etc.” No, they are just a species living as that species lives, at least until we teach them how to live with our rules and our ways. To change behavior, we simple need to teach, guide, manage and understand how that species travels though life without human interference and train with that knowledge so our companion animals can live with us peacefully and can understand of our rules, but only in a fair way that helps them learn these lessons.

That fairness eliminates punishment and intimidation, and, instead, using the science of positive reinforcement to achieve the best outcomes without an underlying, or on-going threat to their well-being and their trust. All animals deserve trust, and should expect it when we bring them into our lives as our companions. We need to earn it, we need to train it and we need to also accept “It’s simple but it’s not always easy,” according to Bob Bailey, one of the world’s renowned behavior trainers. It’s also much like trusting the nurses at the cancer center to know their jobs, do it well and to do no harm in the process. Without education and kindness they wouldn’t last long in that field, and they have to deal with a lot of people that can behave in ways that are not always conducive to kindness.