A fine autumn day...

Just popping in for a super quick moment to make it known that I am here, and am visiting blogs as I feel up to it, but the fatigue I barely mentioned in my last post has hit me profoundly for the last week and a half.  I think it is improving at this point (little-by-little, day-by-day), but I have been knocked down much harder after the fourth chemo infusion than from any of the previous three before.    I think it's made worse because I simply didn't expect this since I regained my energy about half-way through my previous rounds.  Giving into the need to rest for an extra week and a half was not part of my plan.  I had things to do!   Adjusting my expectations was not something I had on the docket at this point.

That said, and discouraging as it has been, I don't really think it's anything to be worried about, but rather is likely a normal, cumulative effect of several chemo rounds.   

But today was a good day.  Middle son has come for a visit, and it was great to spend some time outside on our last warmish day this month, me doing the little bit I felt up to.   Son is taking down a rogue mulberry tree for us.   I don't have a clue why it was ever allowed to keep growing right in the midst of these shrubs - from the size of the base of the trunk, I'd guess for at least 20 years.

Then we enjoyed a fire.  One of many in the upcoming weeks, no doubt.

The strawberry patch needs to be prepped for winter, but I'm going to put that off until after a few freezing nights next week.  The last two years, I've covered the strawberry plants before the first hard freeze, but I've recently seen online that it's good to harden them off first.  Let them experience a few freezing nights.  Since my energy level wasn't capable of tackling the strawberries this past week, and next week promises freezing temperatures for three nights, I've decided I'm okay with giving this "hardening off" idea a try.  

The asparagus is ready to be cut down now that it's turned yellow, and the seedpods are a cheery red color.  We've got some leaves that have been hanging out, composting for over a year now, so hopefully they've pretty much turned to leaf mold and it's all ready to cover the asparagus patch with.  I'm already looking forward to next April when the first shoots of asparagus should appear. 

With my waning mojo, my handcrafts have largely taken a back seat, again, but a few days ago when I had some extra energy, I decided to look through my yarn hoard stash, and I was motivated to start a simple blanket.  It does me good to keep my hands busy, and while I've had to rip back more times than I care to admit (to correct careless mistakes), the stitch pattern is easy enough that my tired brain can handle it.  

Do you see the honeycomb pattern?   The pattern is called Sweet As Can Bee.  The link goes to Ravelry, and will only open to the pattern for Ravelry members.  

And that's all I've got for the moment.  Thank you for stopping by!

Day 10...

For each of my chemo rounds, I kept a daily journal of my symptoms as I progressed through the days following the infusion.  I did it the first time at the suggestion of my oncologist's nurse.   It was helpful for them because knowing what my symptoms were, they had ideas on how to minimize them in the next rounds.  I applied their ideas, and they helped.  My oncology nurse also told me that many times people's bodies adapt to the chemo, and the first round is the worst.  I will say that was true for me - whether it was my body adapting, or me applying their suggestions for my symptoms, or both.  While none of the symptoms were pleasant or exactly easy, none were as bad as they were the first time around.

When my second round of chemo came around, I distinctly remember looking back at my account of Round 1 and noticed I stopped writing anything after Day 9.  Wondering why I would do that, I made a mental note to keep going with it for the full 21 days.   

And then I got to Day 10 on the second round and I realized I felt practically normal, and there really wasn't anything to write.   I was no longer taking any medicines to counteract symptoms because the worst of the symptoms had pretty completely passed at that point.  What a relief that was.  It made the next two sessions loom much less large in my mind.  Not that it was nothing, but my chemo protocol and side effects weren't as terrible as I imagined it all would be.

Today is Day 10 of my last round.  I'm happy to say I once again feel practically normal, except for some fatigue.  Well... and the fact that I had a minor mishap a week ago which led to a finger getting infected this week, so now I'm on an antibiotic for that.  It's not that the mishap was significant, but rather that my immunity is so compromised that my finger developed an infection.  Under normal circumstances, an infection wouldn't have set in, I'm positive.  Mostly that has been an annoyance, but within 24 hours, the antibiotic has started helping my finger feel less sore, so I'm hopeful that will soon be history too.

I mentioned in an earlier post that some motivation for creative activities has returned.  I'm happy to say the feeling is staying with me.  Here are just some random things I've been doing as the spirit strikes:

Knitting fresh dishcloths in fall colors makes me happy.

Stitching on my Quaker sampler continued.

Zentangling the cover of a birthday card 

for youngest son made him smile.

Collecting slow drawing "inchies"

They're actually 2 inch squares.

Auditioning some fabrics for a scrappy autumn stitch

And starting a collection of fabric yo-yo's

 for future slow-stitching projects

None of it is exactly impressive, but it's satisfying to see I at least kept my hands busy during so much down time in recent weeks.

A beautiful autumn is settling in here in central Indiana.  I hope you're enjoying whatever the season brings you.

Ringing out of chemo...

No matter how many chemo treatments you go through, when you finish you have the opportunity to "Ring the Bell" in celebration.

It's a weird place to be in one's mind - to be both thrilled that the last treatment is behind, and at the same time a little apprehensive knowing some uncomfortable days are ahead before truly being on the other side.

From my experience, counting infusion day as Day 1, at the end of 6 days I'll have passed through the worst of the chemo side effects, and in 10 days I'll be feeling pretty much normal.  Day 10 or 11, I have felt good enough and motivated enough to go grocery shopping and start cooking in earnest.  Unfortunately, the taste buds still find food a serious disappointment, and I was told today getting them back could take a few months, but at least the motivation to cook always returns for me sometime in the second week post treatment. 

I asked my oncologist for a month's reprieve before starting endocrine therapy - which will last 5-7 years if it goes well.  It is a typical treatment suggested to breast cancer patients who have hormone-positive tumors.  He was very agreeable to my desire to enjoy the rest of my autumn with (hopefully) no sick days.  

I have a DEXA scan scheduled for a few weeks from now, and a follow-up regarding that.  I'm not looking forward to facing down the possible side effects of taking a daily pill, the purpose of which is to rid my 64-year-old body of any shred of estrogen that may be lurking still, or is hoping to yet be produced.  But I feel incentivized by my onco-type test score to give it a good honest try.  My oncologist told me today that going through this chemo regimen, I've possibly knocked down my chance of recurrence by 11-15%.  That doesn't seem like much, but with an onco-type score that indicated I had a 22% chance of breast cancer recurrence without chemo, I'm pretty okay with those odds.  I have to be.  I don't get to pick the odds.  I only get to pick what game(s) I'm willing to play in the cancer casino.  In the end, I hope for the best, but as we all ultimately do, I have to bravely face whatever comes once I've played my hand.  

You'd think I was a gambler with the way I talk these days.  Normal me is pretty averse to gambling in any form, but I suspect cancer - any big health scare, really - has a way of changing how a person sees life.  I won't be buying lottery tickets anytime soon, but I do see the rest of my days as (hopefully) choosing to play my smartest and best hand, knowing I have zero control over how the game turns out.  That is true for all of us, of course, but having your odds printed on a piece of paper, staring you down, profoundly changes your perspective. 

While wrapping one's mind around these things isn't exactly a pleasant thing to do, it's oddly freeing once one does.  

All that said, I'm in a good place.  My cancer was caught early, even though every diagnostic test found more "cancer-y" stuff, I'm am thankful for where I am on the cancer continuum.

For the last few weeks this point in time has weighed heavy on my mind.  As of today, the visible part of my treatment is behind me.  The part that people have cheered me on through.  Once I'm feeling recovered from this final chemo treatment will begin the quiet, much more private work of continuing to heal from the mastectomy.  Continuing daily stretching and myofascial massage - for years.  My physical therapist tells me for the rest of my life.  And beginning endocrine therapy that holds risks to other parts of the body requires I care about that as well, so there will be work to do to combat (hopefully head off) those potential side effects...  And there is strength building that my physical therapist encourages me to wait until the new year to start - that I will eventually need in order to more fully overcome weakness left over from surgery.  While I'm no longer in any serious pain, my body reminds me daily I am still healing from that.   So it's really not over.  It just goes on differently.  More privately,  except for me possibly sharing here from time to time.

There is a lot of talk about cancer patients being "warriors".  It's a nice sentiment, but honestly, I've never seen myself as a warrior in this.  Mostly I saw myself on a cancer conveyor belt - only occasionally having any real say in the matter - that is, if I wanted to go the modern medicine route.  Only realizing much later the moments I should have put have my foot down about something.  Like troubling myself with visiting a plastic surgeon before I knew what my real surgery options would end up being - I let myself be cowed into that one, by a scheduler, of all people.  At the time, everything was all so new I had no way of knowing that I'd, personally, regret not holding my ground on that one.  

Much of life is like that, though, isn't it.  Sometimes, it's only with experience that one can recognize more clearly the obvious moments one should have taken a stand.  Even though I've never been a very passive patient, it's just impossible to know everything going into such a daunting experience.  But boy, when you're thrown into the fire, you learn to learn quick.  Thanks to the internet, it's easy to tap into necessary and helpful information.  In short order you become something of an expert, and words and acronyms the average person is unfamiliar with, start to roll of the tongue in a seasoned way.

And then, suddenly it seems, I'm at the end of all that.  And at this point I've come to realize I'm really just an expert on me.  Like I was before this all began.  Next year (certainly within five, ten years), science will have introduced new things, and I'll be the commoner who doesn't know the lingo anymore. 

So yeah...  my head's been in a kind of weird place in the last few weeks.  A friend, who's had her own experience with cancer heard me out last night and said it sounds like I might be feeling at loose ends.  Yes!  Exactly.  I'm coming to the end of the "visible" treatment, that was as easy and as hard as staying on the conveyor belt and being told what test was next, when to show up, then considering the treatment options (which are tailored to you and your cancer, so really, the options are pretty few), but still feeling compelled to weigh it all carefully, until finally finding myself landed in a place where now I feel a bit cut loose.

In truth, my oncologist (and/or his nurse practitioner) are a phone call away, they told me today.   I will see my oncologist again in 4 months, and then every 3-6 months after that (whatever the need may be).  I've not found myself needing much handholding throughout this process, but it has felt good to see both of these people every 21 days for the last three months.  Maybe I'm just anticipating missing them.  

That sounds crazy when I actually say it, because those words have never crossed my lips ever, over any doctor.  But I think this is a normal feeling from things I read online.

Yep.  A bit at loose ends.  Needing to go through uncomfortable chemo side effects in the days ahead, and then I can move into getting stronger, healthier, trying to be the best I can be in my continued healing (my friend gave me that thought too).  But so much that is ahead is on me now.

It feels both freeing and weighty.

I'm all in because I have no choice.  That's what I said when I was going through all the other stuff, when someone would tell me I was "so brave".  So I guess not much has changed, really, when I think about it that way.  Maybe this next phase is actually where the warrior title is earned - in the battle fought largely away from the eyes of others.  Which, when I think about it, is where most people deal with their most challenging life's issues (be they health or other struggles).  So it's a common and reasonable place to be entering, I know.  We're all warriors in this life, really.  It's somehow a comforting thought to consider we all eventually face things bigger than ourselves.  Some people are brave enough to pick out their own big challenges in life.  Some of us dig deep and find what it takes to face the challenges thrust upon us.  I am ever grateful for a faith in God that keeps me grounded, or gets me back to grounded when thoughts and feelings go scattering into the wind.

This is me.  Whether or not you were hoping for an invitation, welcome to inside my brain today!  

Sweet flowers from Amy H that her daughter grew.

And a beautiful bouquet of zinnias and sunflowers 

from Mark & Peggy's garden.  

And my back door neighbor, Mary Ann, has surprised me 

with several hand-picked bouquets from her back yard.

Not a single seed I sowed last spring turned into a pickable flower, so I have delighted in the many flowers others have bestowed on me this summer and autumn.  Amazingly, they were spaced out perfectly, allowing me to enjoy fresh blooms over many weeks.   

It's been wonderful! 

Handwork...

I am now three quarters of the way through my chemotherapy, am climbing out of some rough days after my last treatment, and I am starting to feel some new motivation.  

I'm at a place I couldn't even imagine being just a couple of weeks ago.  On my good days I do fairly normal things, am sometimes out around people (though I do have to be smart about that with a compromised immune system), looking perfectly fine...   Halfway through a chemo cycle, if you didn't know I'd had chemo 10 days prior, you wouldn't know!   That said, I have lacked any real motivation for getting back to a lot that is normal for me.  In this post, I'm referring to hobbies I used to enjoy.  I see them sitting there and I want to want to do them, but I have lacked the motivation to actually do them.  Things like crafting, embroidery, cross stitch, slow drawing (if you don't know what that is, think of it as purposeful doodling)...  

But something seems to be changing inside me, and I am so thankful for it.  I've even begun to consider taking up sewing again - like maybe clothing.  I haven't sewn clothing since...   Wow - how long has it been?   I made some maternity clothes 29 years ago.  And I made some flannel pajamas for our boys when they were little.  Okay, I've sewn here and there over the years.   Craft projects, even home projects have seen me sitting at the sewing machine.  While it was over a decade ago, youngest son would benefit each semester from my sewing skills when he needed a costume (usually something adapted from the thrift store) for a high school drama he was in.  My sewing machine has always been fairly handy, but I don't think I've sewn an article of clothing in 20 - 25 years.  

I know what has piqued my interest.   Greg has recently posted some old pictures to a family Facebook group, and in two pictures I recognized I'm wearing things I made when I was young.  In fact...  just for fun, here is a scan of a newspaper clipping of young me sewing a 4-H project.  I remember the reporter coming over to interview me and take my picture for the 4-H Fair supplement for the local paper.  Recognizing the Mickey Mouse t-shirt, I'm getting jr. high vibes, so I suspect I was around 12 or 13:

So...  I provide this as proof that I used to be a sewer.  Or maybe the better word is sewist.  A maker of garments.  Seeing pictures of things I had made (and me wearing them) made me think of other pieces of clothing I've made in years' past.  These pictures and memories sparked something inside of me.

Okay...  I'm not sure about getting back to sewing clothing for sure.  I'm just dreaming at the moment.  But dreaming feels good.  And a little doing recently has done me good.

It's funny what can come along and push us out of our inertia when we are struggling with motivation.  With cooler weather right around the corner I've started looking at my clothes to see what still fits me at this point, what can take me through fall and winter, and what might benefit from some simple altering.  I found a few tops that, by altering the neckline, should be very comfortable and decent looking for me to wear.  And I'm so surprised at what has happened.  Simply putting thread to needle, and doing the easiest of clothing alterations has inspired me to want to do more handwork.  

It led me to pick up another needle and thread and start working on my Quaker Sampler again.  

I don't know how many times I can show a picture of this sampler in progress before losing all credibility that I'll ever finish it.  But I don't care.  I'm back at it for now.

And I've even gotten some ideas for hand-stitched Christmas ornaments - some "scrappy" slow-stitching kind of projects. 

This is actually a fairly ambitious project (for me), and if I'm being completely honest, I'm a tiny bit scared I'll not follow through.  Wish me well that I have enough gumption to get it started, let alone finished.   

I am so relieved to be feeling motivated again to play with fabric and thread.  To just be dreaming of things I want to make is quite the improvement.

There is nothing wrong with setting aside activities, even abandoning them completely as life changes, but that's not what I wanted.  I have wanted for so long to get back to making things - really, since our move nearly two years ago I haven't been overly motivated to do handcrafts.  And this year, with all the cancer business, my zeal for "making" has just been completely zapped.   I'm feeling relieved that something seems to have changed in me.   

I'm curious...  What do you do when you find your motivation for favorite activities waning?  

 

Green Beans, Sausage and Potatoes...

On a much lighter note than recent previous posts, I'm shifting gears to share (mostly recording here for myself so I don't lose it) a new-to-me dish and recipe:  Green Beans, Potatoes and Sausage.   

A super easy recipe, that harkens back to simpler, heartier times, this is actually a very old dish.  I imagine my own mother made it and served it, and I'm sure I would not have thought this was good as child.  In fact, it was only when a friend made it for us recently that I found out how delicious it is.  I've made it twice now - with mixed results.

My best version of this was made with fresh green beans.  Many people use canned green beans, but when I tried them they cooked down too quickly, and when I reheated it, the green beans were practically mush.  While I didn't cook the canned beans nearly as long as I cooked the fresh green beans, I may have still cooked them too long.

There are many variations of this recipe online, and this one is very simple.  It can be made bolder by adding bacon, or using bacon drippings, and by using some other spices (I'm thinking of trying a shake of Creole spice mix next time).

I cooked the ingredients separately, and add them all together after the beans are cooked since the separate ingredients will take different times to cook.  Most recipes I've seen online do not do this, so I'm open to thoughts and suggestions about this.  I've also seen a sheet pan recipe that looks like it might just be amazing.  But for now, I offer up:

Green Beans, Potatoes and Sausage

Ingredients:

Fresh Green Beans (as much as you want to make)

Potatoes, cut up into bite-size pieces  (I think any type will do)

Rope sausage, sliced or cut in chunky bite-sized pieces  

         (I used Hillshire Farm Smoked Sausage)

Chicken Stock (at least a quart)

Onion, chopped

Salt

Pepper

Garlic Powder (can also use fresh, minced garlic)

Any other favorite seasonings, to taste

Wash and cut fresh green beans.  Heat beans up in a pot of water or chicken stock (or a combination of both) and cook until beans are tender.  Depending on the type of green bean used, this can take anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour or more.  If using canned green beans skip cooking the beans ahead of time. 

While beans are cooking, saute slices of sausage along with chopped onion until the sausage is heated through and browned.  Set aside.

About 30 minutes before the beans should be done, either boil or fry up the potato pieces (I boiled mine, but will saute them the next time) until tender.  Drain boiled potatoes and set aside.

Once the green beans are tender, add the seasonings along with the sausage and potatoes to the pot of green beans.  Cook until flavors meld, and the whole thing is hot. 

You can eat this like a stew by scooping out liquid with the beans, potatoes and sausage, or use a slotted spoon to dish onto a plate.  We've eaten this as a main dish (don't think I served anything else with it), and I've enjoyed the leftovers for as long as they've lasted.  The first batch (made with fresh green beans) I shared with a friend, I thought it was that good.    

I would be interested in reading in the comments any variations you may have made of this dish.  Also, I'd love to hear others' experience and suggestions you have for using canned or even frozen green beans.