Sunday, February 2, 2014

BANANAS!

Bananas. I've said it on more than one occasion in my life because I've found this to be the norm for me. Remember the Gwen Stenfani song? "This SHIT is bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S!" My LIFE is bananas. 

I'm just one of those types of people that crazy stupid things happen to, either to teach me a lesson or to amuse me. Or maybe it's to share it with the world so I can be a little amusement in someone's day of bullshit. And I'm not talking about the kind of bananas like "my life is so hard" or "I get dealt the WORST hand of cards ever ever ever." I'm talking like straight mushy, rotten, smelly bananas like all ya can do is laugh that it just never ends. I even got a tattoo on my ankle of a banana. And ya wanna know the crazy part? My life is SO freaking bananas that the tattoo artist FUCKED UP the banana! I'm talking I precisely went over what to do, the coloring and shape and all, and the guy starts drawing pink blobs outside of the banana. "Um what is that?" I ask. "Oh I'm just adding color to make it stand out." "Okay, well I don't want a pink blob outside of the banana to make it stand out." 

So at this point, I have pink ink blobbed all outside the banana, its irreversible and I have NO idea what to do. Then he starts to make STARS out of the blob. "I can make these stars so it looks like something." What the HELL do stars have to do with bananas!? "Ummm okay I guess." 

After he finishes my tattoo, I go to my friends house (in North Carolina) and tell her the story. "Let's go have it fixed," we decide. I get to the tattoo shop and they look down at my left ankle. It's twice the size as my right, bright red, and quite frankly just LOOKS infected... Well, because it has PINK BLOBS all around it. They say they want nothing to do with it because it is infected. Understandable. Then one guy tells me to go to soak the tattoo in epsom salt and it will come right out. I say, "Yeah right." I know what you are thinking. There's NO way I'm that gullible, right? But then the other guy says, "Yeah we have a lot of people that get a tattoo and go swimming in the ocean and it just comes right out." So I think, whats the worse that could happen? Well soaking an open wound in SALT, in HOT WATER mind you, isn't exactly pleasant. And considering I was on vacation, it didn't exactly add to the fun. In fact, it felt like getting a tattoo for three days straight. Yes, I did soak it for three days. However, contrary to my belief, it did not come out.

I decide a year later it's time to try and have it fixed. I go to my boyfriend (at the time)'s favorite tattoo artist. We draw up a REALLY awesome cover up for it. There are vines around it covering the pink blobs and even a "chaquita" sticker in the middle. I spend 300 dollars to get it fixed and it takes him FOUR hours. He doesn't even finish it and tells me that cover up tattoos can sometimes take more than one or two times. I'm thinking, "I can't afford that many times!" Regardless, I am stoked I am finally getting it fixed. 

Three days later, the tattoo comes out. I stayed out of the sun, I stayed out of the water and pools, and I applied tattoo cream multiple times a day. The tattoo I actually WANT to stay in, comes out. Go figure. At this point, I learn a valuable lesson. Bananas. The best word I can describe my life. The kind of stuff you just can't possibly make up because it's just too ridiculous. And sometimes, there is just nothing you can do but laugh about it and move on.

And so, I did. My half done tattoo remains. And I won't ever change it. It's a constant reminder that no matter how hard we try to make life go right, crazy shit is thrown our way that we just gotta take with a grain of salt and move on. 


Sunday, July 28, 2013

To chemo, and BEYOND!

I feel a huge weight on my shoulders. I feel a tremendous amount of guilt for not keeping up with my blog during some of the hardest parts of this journey: Chemo. 

Can't exactly explain why I didn't keep up. I know I fought tooth and nail to be normal. I fought to live a normal life aside from chemo, losing my hair, losing friends, transitioning through relationships and missing work. A part of me wanted to pretend that life was normal and I was unaffected. Fake it til you make it, right? The funny thing is, anytime I got too ahead of myself and just when I thought things were normal, God would find a way of humbling me. Soooo many times I fought against sickness or pain to be somewhere important to me. I would get ready to leave and as I was walking down the stairs, I would get light headed and almost faint. I'd sit down in huge disappointment that I couldn't do what I wanted to do, and feel sorry for myself that I couldn't be normal. It plays into the whole "you appreciate your health the moment you start getting sick" thing. You know what I mean? You're laying there miserable on the couch, not able to breath cuz your nose is stuffy. Your throat is so sore you can't even talk. Your head is pounding so bad you can't even see straight or think straight. And suddenly you are given this thought of how great it felt to not feel that way. The whole 'you appreciate what you have when you don't have it' thing. 


I DO regret not blogging more. I think a big part of me kept inside the hurt and struggles I went through to myself and only those close to me, mostly because it was very hard for me to take on. It's hard to share what chemo is like, because not even the people literally sitting next to your side the ENTIRE time (Kelly!) never really knew how it felt. 

I spent SO much time trying to come up with ways to describe it. Granted it affects everyone differently, I do believe it also affects us emotional very much the same. Losing my hair was rough. Waking up with no hair, no eyelashes, no eye brows and feeling beautiful? Nearly impossible. Feeling good about yourself when yourself literally doesn't feel good? VERY hard to do. But you know what? It humbled me. It taught me that even when we want something soooooo bad, God may not want it for us. Even if I tried to get ready to go out and be there for someone, I physically may not have been able to do so. As someone who strived to be there for every person that ever needed me, it was very very very hard for me to learn to choose my health first. The many times I didn't, I ended up making things worse and even got myself in the hospital for five days. When you think you feel like a million bucks, you have to remember that there's hardly any functioning blood cells in your body so you can not accomplish a lot of what you used to be able to. It's kind of like when you give blood and they make you sit down, eat cookies and drink juice to make sure your blood sugar is at a stable level before you leave. The feeling you get right after if you don't eat or don't listen to them when they ask to not do anything strenuous right after. (Like rip out an entire rug by yourself, that I unfortunately had to learn the hard way!)

I've gone through a whole hell of a lot since I last talked to you. To the people who never left my side, THANK YOU. To the people who fought with me through this journey and held me up when I was weak, I won't ever forget it. To the relationships I lost over it, I'm sorry. I learned that life is short and it's not worth it to waste time with the wrong people. I learned that I don't owe anyone anything. That it's okay to put myself first sometimes even if it hurts someone else. I have had to deal with hurting people I love because I had to choose myself first, and it hasn't been easy. I've let go of things that used to hurt me or weigh me down, because now it's finally time to fly. No more looking back with regret, no more guilt for the things I couldn't do or couldn't make come true. I'm insanely humbled by the people I've met, the opportunities I've been given and the experiences I've got to share with you. This isn't the end of my blog, nor the end of the story. This is my apology for leaving you and the beginning of letting you in on some of the hardest things I've ever faced and have grown from. I can't wait to share everything I've taken away from this. I can't wait to help other people grow.

All my love,

Missy

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Help me meet Jason Aldean!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE- if you have facebook, instragram or twitter- like and share my photo. Make a wish foundation only helps dreams come true to those 18 and under. There are NO websites to help me meet Jason Aldean, my inspiration for making it through my battle with cancer. The more the word gets out, the better chance I have of meeting him June 29th! 

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151434655572035&set=a.10151425074397035.1073741828.505512034&type=1&theater

Twitter: Retweet @missyhazelton

Instragram:  missyhazelton
http://instagram.com/p/a95bGAHbN-/


Thursday, February 28, 2013

Hair falling out

This morning I woke up with the worst dream. I had clumps of hair falling out everywhere I walked. I woke up with tear stains on my face and shuddered at the thought.
I showered and got ready, then brushed my hair. Clumps of twenty strands came out in my brush, and my heart sank. There have been many times before I brushed my hair and shed a ton of it, but none to this extreme.
I wrapped the ends of my hair and pulled lightly. Twenty more strands came out. I looked down at my scrub top, covered in strands of hair. "Is this really happening? Is today the day?" I looked at myself in the mirror and tried to shake it off like today was any other day.
In the car driving to work I listened to upbeat songs to try and change my mood. Nothing was working and a dark cloud hung over me.
When I arrived, I continued to see patients and try and pretend nothing was wrong. All I could think about was not moving my neck, not touching my hair. I didn't want it to fall out in one huge clump.
I lasted the whole day at work wirth only a couple break downs at work. The doctor and the other girls comforted me as I vented about how horrible it felt to lover in fear of losing my hair. I decided out was time to shave my head, no messing around anymore. This was MY choice and MY decision. Cancer was NOT going to bring me down once again.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Living with side effects

I've tried to not be one to complain. Generally speaking, I probably do this more often than I think I do. ;) Nevertheless, I made a pact with myself not to walk around talking about how bad I have it. I am often humbled by people I run into and stories of things they have to face. And I know that what I am going through is only a small portion of all the things making the world go round. It's taken my time to write because I wasn't sure how to approach my feelings and reactions to what I am going through, without it sounding like I'm whining about my life. Finally after much deliberation, I remembered the reason I started this blog was to share what I am going through to help other people. Whether that be comforting someone going through something similar, teaching others about health and screening, or even making people aware of others who are going through hardships and how to support, I knew I wanted to do this. So here it is, the down and dirty of the crap I've endured. Enjoy. :)

I can't even remember my last blog, so if I repeat myself I apologize. Actually I take that back. I'm just too lazy to re-read my long ass posts so deal with it. ;) 

I don't remember the first two days of chemo. Since I had my port put in the same day, everything is all foggy from the versed that gave me. (It is given before surgeries to make you forget anything during and right after the surgery.) I remember sitting in the warm chair with a heated blanket, drifting back and forth into sleep. The following day at home was a lot of sleep too, with not much activity. Sunday was day 3, and I was starting to feel the side effects. When I heard about people going through chemo, I imagined sweaty nauseous people throwing up all over the place, just spewing puke. This what not the case for me. My stomach cramped a lot throughout the day, but my nausea pills took care of that. I would wake up and feel like it was bed time. I didn't feel rested or have any energy. It felt like I just came down with the flu. My body was heavy and stiff, my muscles were weak, and my eyes could barely stay open. This happened Sunday, Monday and part of Tuesday. I decided to try working a half day on Monday and I could barely stand up. I am stubborn and independent, and I wanted to prove I was going to make it through this fight "normal." I could barely keep my eyes open, had no infliction in my tone and appeared as a walking zombie. Not to mention in the back of my head I was worrying about my hair. I was afraid to brush it, wash it or even touch it for that matter. I had this huge lump in my throat like I was awaiting a prison sentence. When will it come out? I've been told it falls out in chunks. Just big old chunks lightly pulling away from your scalp. Ew. NO thank you. 

Day 4 started off slow, but I started to get my energy back. With an extremely busy day of work, patients coming in and out, I didn't have much time for pity. From running around, cleaning the room, taking x-rays. getting the doctor, getting supplies and cleaning teeth, I barely had 20 minutes to sit down. It was an exhausting day, but my energy levels started to go way up.

I finally let go of the fear of my hair falling out. I know it's coming, but I have to enjoy it while its here. No more wasting time feeling sorry or worrying, its still here today. That's what counts.


The week went well from there forward. Friday, Day 7, I had a follow up for lab work. I was in a rush since it was my only day off, so I was fitting in 3 doctor's appointments. They drew my blood and talked with me, and I bragged about how fabulous I was feeling. They let me go without the results due to time, and I hurried off to the plastic surgeon an hour away. He put more saline in my expanders to stretch my skin some more. 

I receive a phone call telling me that I need to hurry back. My A and C numbers were 0.1 meaning I had almost no immune system. They needed me at the hospital immediately to give me a shot of Nuepogen to stimulate my bone marrow to make white blood cells. I was instructed to stay home all weekend and come back Monday morning for more lab work. Monday came and I had blood drawn again. This time I waited. ;)

My A and C count was 0. None. Going backward? So again, another shot of Nuepogen, no public and return in the morning for labs. It brought me back to earth to see how things were going. I realized how scary all of this is and that I am not invincible. I needed to start listening to my body and start eating, hydrating and resting right. I allowed myself to be sad that I wasn't as strong as I thought my body was. Then I told myself to build a bridge and get over it!

Yesterday as I was cleaning at home, my back started to hurt. It was a deep bone pain, similar to the pressure I felt when I was pregnant with Colton. His body was laying on my sciatic nerve and my back was constantly in a shocking pain. The more steps I took, the more excruciating it got. I ran to the couch and sat down. Sharp, stabbing, electric sparks shot up and down my tailbone, spine and back of my neck. I was rendered still in pain, as I cried and waited for the pain to subside. I grabbed my heating pad and sat on it and waited. It started to lessen and I felt a little better. I remembered that a side effect of the Nuepogen is bone pain. That means the shot is working, and your body is making your baby white blood cells (immature white blood cells) to mature into infection fighting ones. I was exhausted, in pain, and relieved that my body started to kick ass. THIS is what I was waiting for. 

This morning was another lab. One more blood draw and 40 minutes to wait for results. Lab work came back and this tough chick is back in fighting mode! Although the bone pain kept me up all night, and still shoots up and down my back and head today, I know my immune system is ready to rock. This is only cycle 1, and I have 5 more cycles of this roller coaster to attend. This party is JUST getting started!!!!!


Saturday, February 16, 2013

Normal life or no? That is the question.

It's been a wild ride. I've kept myself busy, bound and determined to stay happy and inspired. I experienced new wardrobe shopping and late night karaoke with Kelly, whom also had the pleasure of driving me to half of my appointments.

I started work full time and ridiculously missed my patients and co workers who welcomed me back with a dozen roses and a breast cancer birthday cake.

On Valentines Day Kelly surprised me with tickets to go see Miranda Lambert, Dierks Bentley and Thomas Rhett. It was an amazing concert, my very first country concert! She slept over then drove me at five thirty in the morning to the hospital the next day.

Friday I started by having my mediport placed. The is a little tube that goes up into your jugular vein in your neck, then down toward your heart. There is a big circle placed right under the skin that needles are inserted to when delivering chemo or drawing blood. It is sewn at the top and will stay there until I am done with treatment. I was given medicine to make me sleep and woke up to go to chemo.

Chemo was three hours. I sat in my heated chair with a ton of blankets. Kelly and I hadn't had much sleep, so I laid around and slept while she watched me. The inserted the needle into my port and I didn't feel it because I was still numb. They have me anti nausea meds, flushes anas two different chemo medicine. I was selected for the trial to have those drugs once every three weeks for six doses.

Now I'm back at home and resting. I'm scared to lose my hair and feel like I'm just sitting around awaiting my fate. I'm thinking about having friends here when it starts to fall out, and have a party while I shave it off drinking a glass of champagne. I feel tired and nauseaouswirth almost no energy. Glad I got all my going out done before this shenanigans started!