When you look at yourself in the mirror and you see Smeagol looking back at you then you can complain.  and you can cry.  and you can feel like your life is over.  You will think of  the big chunks of hair thats in the next room laying on your pillow that you will have to collect yourself and dump in the trash and you can get really pissed off.  You can feel ugly and repulsive.  No one will ever love you.  You will never be kissed.  You will never get married. You think these thoughts because you are 13 and you’ve been thinking about your wedding day since you were 5.  Remember in Kindergarten when you had 3 boyfriends.  At the same time.  You’d make two of them walk on either side of you holding your hand and the other follow behind you.  All three of them rode your bus and one day you asked your mom if you could wear your church dress to school because you wanted to walk down the bus aisle and for them to hear the tap tap tap coming from your shiny black Sunday shoes.  And those boys will look at you and think you are so cute.  well Those days are gone sister.  

but You don’t know that won’t be the case.  You will be loved.  Even when you are bald and skinny as sin you’ll have a boyfriend.  and he’ll shave his head  so that you won’t be the only bald kid at school.  You don’t know that you won’t have the guts to do the right thing when on the first day you go back to school two boys will see you two together and say “Looks like Chemo has a chemo boyfriend”  and so instead of shrugging it off and realize they are losers- instead you never speak to your boyfriend again. 

You will be kissed.  2 years later when your hair is still quite short you’ll get frenchy with a kid named Dan and he’ll slobber all over you.  You’ll be sitting on a swing at a park in Idaho Falls and he’ll walk up behind you and push you a little on the swing and you’ll think its very very romantic.  And you will really think this would be the perfect time for your  first kiss and apparently he will think the same thing so you’ll lean back and he’ll lean in… and then he’ll go commando on your face and you will pull away and have to wipe your face with your sleeve.  But don’t worry you’ll have some good kisses to follow in the coming years. 

You will get married too.  You will know this when Chad kisses you  for the first time.  Yeah the very first time you kiss him your thought will be “These are the hands of my husband”  Because right before he kisses you you will look down and see his hand holding yours and you recognize his hands for some reason.  But try not to tell that to too many people because it sounds weird and very Saturday Night Warrior.  You will be sealed in the temple to him and feel complete love for him in that moment and every time things get rough you’ll remember that moment and that feeling and know that no matter what with him is where you belong. 

But as you look at yourself in the mirror and see that the patches of scalp outnumbers the patches of stringy hair you will have no idea that you’ll get past this.  You think over and over.  You are ugly.  No one will ever want you. You are ugly.  No one will ever want you.  You are ugly.  No one will ever want you.  and then you’ll feel very sorry for yourself.  and then you’ll stand up and go get the chunks of hair and throw them away.   

Rychelle sent me a beautiful print a couple of months back from a Sweet(ie) Etsy Shop! and because of that I’m obsessed with finding prints on Etsy.

This shop is Grade A Quality

wouldn’t this be cute over my bed  a “C” on chad’s side and a “S” above mine???  and every night I’d whisper “good night C” and chad would say “Good Night S”  and then I’d say “Lewis”  

I saw this canvas at Red Letter Words  and fell in love with it.  Hope is my favorite word.  It’s going on my wish list… which happens to be my second favorite word. 

Dallen and Kate were in the bathtub the other night.  I was putting towels away in the hall closet. 

Dallen: (very upset)  “MOM!”  “I’ve got pee on my butt!!!!” 

me:  “What!?”

Dallen: “Kate did it!  She put Yellow Pee on my butt!!!”

me: thinking oh great

I walk into the bathroom and both kids are standing in the tub… kate standing behind dallen… their little butts in plain view.  Sure enough Dallen had yellow p on his butt.  Kate had stuck a foam letter P right on dallen’s butt cheek which in fact also happened to be yellow.  I laughed really hard . of course that  has now resulted that every time I put them in the bathtub they look for the letter P and try to stick it on each others behinds.  This morning they were fighting so much over the “P” that I had to “throw” it away. 

Well we’re movin on up,
To the east side.
To a deluxe apartment in the sky.
Movin on up,
To the east side.
We finally got a piece of the pie

:)

well except for me it was movin on up to the oncology floor at Primary Children’s.  It has an entire floor. 

 Here’s the building:

I think this is a stock photo from 1994 because this is exactly as I remember it… in fact if you squint you can see me waving in a window.  4th floor 3rd window to the left.  ;)

The first two weeks of going from being diagnosed, tested, and then starting treatment are like burned in my memory.  I can pretty much remember everything that I saw, heard and felt.  It was like when something traumatic happens and everything happens in slow mo.  Everything was more vivid to me during this time and I can play back these memories like I’m watching a movie. 

So that MondayI remember this sequence of events.  My parents and I talked with Dr. Carol Bruggars in her office.  She explained my cancer -  Non Hodgkins Lymphoma K-1.  K-1 was the degree in which the cancer was.

I’m sorry - I have to take a little time out.  I skipped over something that happened over the weekend of waiting.  While I was reading up on K-1 so I could explain it a little better I remembered something. if you recall  On Friday I underwent surgery to get a biopsy and to get my portacath installed. 

This is a portacath

In medicine, a port (or portacath) is a small medical appliance that is installed beneath the skin. A catheter connects the port to a vein. Under the skin, the port has a septum through which drugs can be injected and blood samples can be drawn many times, usually with less discomfort for the patient than a more typical “needle stick”.

(PS sorry about that picture.  Whatever artist drew that picture needs to be fired… yucky nipples :(

Also along with that I got my bone marrow harvested.  Let me tell you a little something about bone marrow harvesting.  IT HURTS LIKE HELL.  Okay well I didn’t really feel it at the time.  But I felt it when I woke up.  and it felt like my lower back was on fire.  I can’t even describe the pain.  Basically think of Kathy Bates crushing your lower back from the inside out with a sledge hammer.  that was on fire.  that kind of comes close to what it felt like. 

oh yeah and when I woke up from the surgery I had this big brace on my forearm/wrist so that my arm was stable for the IV they had in during surgery.  So when I woke up from surgery I was pretty out of it.  The first thing I remember is hitting myself in the head over and over with that brace. not like once or twice… like 15 times I kept saying all slurry like “Where am I! Where am I” and my mom and the nurse kindofhad to hold me down.  I was probably like foaming at the mouth too. ;)  and gurgling.   jk  but I like to think I looked a little like a crazy person who needed a straight jacket ASAP

so over the weekend I could barely walk because of the bone marrow harvest.  I hate that they call it harvest.  It makes me think like they are going to make some whole wheat bread with it :(  bleh

and we (Stephanie, my mom and I) went to trolley square to do some shopping.  in 1994 trolley square was more botiquey then it is now.  Stephanie and I went into this really nice clothing shop and tried on some stuff.  I had to pull on this one dress (like $200) that was kinda tight over my head and then had to basically wiggle into it to get it down. Then Steph did the same with another dress.    We looked in the mirror a couple times in our stuff and then took the dresses off.  As Stephanie was helping me pull of my dress,  my bandage from my bone marrow site came off a little and a little ointment got on to the dress.  Stephanieand I  were like “ah crap” we thought that we’d have to buy it or something.  So we hurry and hung the dresses up, left both in the dressing room, found mom and told her we were ready to leave.  Since that dreaded day everytime I’ve gone to trolley square I feel guilty that some lady bought a fancy dress to go out to dinner that had back oinment all over it.  oops.

okay so that catches us up to Monday.

Talked with Dr. Bruggars.  Found out diagnosis.  Hand and leg cuffed and hauled up to oncology floor for treatment. Seriously I kinda felt shocked that I started treatment so fast.  We left the office and we went upstairs and the nurses started me on chemo.  I guess there was no time to lose but it felt so all of the sudden to me.  One minute I’m sitting in this office so happy to be with my mom and dad in the same room and the next getting juiced with chemo. 

My nurse was a Yankee.  Like she was from New York.  She was youngish and had long dark hair.  Think Jordana Brewster but not as pretty and minus the bangs.  She was not motherly.  She was nice don’t get me wrong but just really matter of fact. 

So I sit on the bed in the room and kinda of do a test bounce with my bum.  I was diggin the digs.  There was a large framed picture on the wall of a kid doing a skateboard trick on one of those half walls.  Nurse Yankee told me I could request another picture if I didn’t like that one.  “Like what” I asked. ”Bears, Ballerinas, Hot Air Balloons”  (what no NKOTB???)  :)  I was like “oh I don’t care”  but eventually I did come to  care.  Which is why I loved that Austin my brother bought me a free willy poster that I brought with me every time I came to the hospital.  I’d take down the picture they had hanging.  Put it in the hall so they could take it to whatever room they stored the “kid pleasing pictures so they feel less pain and more homey” and hung up my Free Willy poster.  You can dog the Free Willy  movie all you want but that M.J. song still makes me tear up a little.

I ordered my dinner for the night and was so excited about that.  (This is before I came to know the horror of the dreaded pink lunch trays)  I ordered a root beer, tater tots, a corn dog, and red grapes.  I laid on the bed watching a little TV while Nurse Yankee started the chemo on its maiden voyage. 

Got my food.  ate it.  pretty good.  The root beer on the other hand made me heave a little.  The chemo was already going through out my body and for some reason it counter reacted with the root beer and left a strong metallic taste in my mouth.  I told Nurse Yankee and she was like “yep that happens”  I was like “okay then” 

so about 2 hrs after dinner I am  watching TV.  All of the sudden, as I am sitting there in a mid reclined posistion, I throw up.  No warning.  No sick feeling in my tummy.  Like that girl who vomits green stuff from that one famous scary movie.  It just comes out.  I immediately put my hands up to my mouth.  Like “what” “huh”  that did not come from me!  and its like streaming out between my fingers.  Nurse Yankee runs in from the nurses station outside my door.  Her face is a little pissed.  Like I should have thought this out a little more.  aimed my projectile vomit towards the bathroom at least.  She gets closer. 

“Oh my GAWD” she yells

I’m still barfing

“Ohhhh myyyyy GAWWWD” she yells again.  “She’s throwing up blood clots” she says looking at all the vomit on my chest.   Another nurse comes running in.  The other one holds a plastic bucket in front of me and I put my hands out and grab it.  The other nurse holds my hair back (I still have all my hair) and I throw up again.  “She’s throwing up Blood Clots” Nurse Yankee says again.  I pause between every heave.  “No” I say “It’s”… “not” BLEH… “blood”…. “its” … bleh “red grapes”

“Oh.” Nurse Yankee says.  “good.”  but she still is kinda pissed at me.  They unhook me from my chemo and strip my pj’s.  They stick me in the shower and then strip and remake my bed. 

I climbed in to the sheets, clean and refreshed.  and feeling regret that I had ever thought that cancer was going to be fun.  Like I kind of felt that because I had been so excited about it that it almost was like this is what you get for being dumb.  You know what they say… Paybacks are a total bee. 

The first few days of the first week were good.  Everyone knew my name.  I felt like a celebrity.  Kinda helped that I had a “famous” name.  “Oh so this is the Shellie Long we’ve been hearing about”  “Hi I’m Dr. So and So can I get your autograph”  “I’ve been waiting to meet you”  I got blood taken.  I got x rays taken.  I had Dr’s poke at the large mass “the goiter”  right where my neck and shoulder met.   But during those first few days I watched cartoons in the waiting rooms, read Highlights magazine, and had lunch with my mom in the cafeteria.

After being sick and tired and so worn down for months leading up to this for the first time in a long time I felt healthy.  Strange because the cancer was getting more and more advanced with every day.  It was through out my whole body at this point.  In my lungs, under my armpits, in my groin area.  Where ever my lymph nodes ran they were there taking over. 

We didn’t know that yet though.  I had surgery set up.  For a biopsy to see if it was Malignant or benign (Malignant = Monster… Benign= Fine)  and also to insert a portacath.  The day before the surgery I had to go in for a CT scan so the Dr’s knew a little more of what was going on inside.  

The night before the CT scan I lay on my bed at the motel.  It was out by the Salt Lake airport.  I was sipping my sprite and eating some jello.  Clear Liquid diet.  The planes were going over head and I just imagine myself now laying on that bed with my arms behind my head so relaxed , my little sprite sitting on my bedside table a little umbrella and a lime wedged on the side, my eyes closed –like a hot native was fanning me with a big green leafy leaf.  

At this point I felt that everything was going to be peachy.  Yeah I was getting poked with needles.  Big deal.  I could deal with that.  I’m a tough girl.  Sure I was going to go under the knife but that wasn’t a big deal.  I’d be asleep… I wouldn’t feel a thing.  I didn’t feel sick.  I felt amazing.  and happy.  and relieved. 

So the next morning (Thursday)  wait wait… let me set up a little time line for ya’ll.

Jan 1994

okay let me back up even more

Sept 1993- started feeling sick

tired, grumpy, no appetite, slept on the bus, slept during all my classes, slept in the hallway against the lockers, slept on the bus coming back. tried to eat dinner… got into bed-slept

or stayed home and slept… I missed a lot of school that fall.

Jan 1994

3rd week of Jan-  visit Grandpa Murdock.  My grandpa is a doctor.  he tells my mom that he thinks the huge lump on my neck is cancerous.  visit my Uncle Bruce at his dentist office.  I remember him feeling the mass on my neck and him and my grandpa exchanging glances.  They knew it was serious. 

go to dr blackburns- he confirms I have cancer.

last week of Jan

Monday- Go to PCMC -  feel pretty much like a rock star

(PCMC- primary children’s medical center for you muggles)

Tuesday-  PCMC more testing and drs - visit the gift shop

Wednesday- more doctors more rock star treatment more gift shop

Thursday- CT scan 

So that Thursday morning I skip in tra la la and excited for some more special treatment.  Just to let ya’ll know I live for special treatment.  I’m the baby in my family.  It is what it is.  I don’t deny it anymore. I welcome it and I embrace it.  :)

So my mom checks me in for the CT scan.  The nurse hands her this huge plastic jug filled with red liquid.  “Have her finish the whole bottle within the hour” she says.  She also hands my mom a plastic cup.  So we settle down in some chairs by a fish tank and I start going to town.  That dye was disgusting.  and it was warm.  and I did not feel like a rock star.  well maybe a rock star with a hangover.  Barfola. 

I sipped.  and sipped.  and grimaced a whole lot.  I looked up at the clock.  I had like 15 minutes left.  The bottle was only half gone.  uh oh.  So I did what I had to do.  I excused myself to the bathroom and my mom didn’t notice that I had taken my drink with me.  So I dumped it down the toilet.  and then flushed it.  wahoo.  I am so dangerous. 

Then they called my name and waved the bottle at them and smiled.  They were very impressed and took it from me and I followed them back.  My mom came back with me and helped me change.  Then she took my clothes and went back to the waiting room since she couldn’t be in with the machine and me. 

The room was quite large.  a big square.  and very dark.  The ct machine was in the center of the room.  I don’t know how to describe.  I’m sure ya’ll know what one look likes right.  So the nurse led me to it and helped me lay down.  He told me where to look.  where to not look.  that they could talk to me through a microphone and tell me when to hold my breath and when to breathe.  listen for the cues he said. 

I laid down and he placed a warm blanket on me.  I would live at a hospital just for those warm blankets.  The platform moved me back into posistion.  The machine started whirring and they reminded me to not look at some lasor thing.  ”Okay Shellie here we go”  the machine whirred.  “Take a deep breath”  “Hold it”  “Hold it”  ”Okay you can breathe”  The whirring stopped.  It was pretty silent for a while.  Like uncomfortably silent. 

Then the door opened and the platform slid forward.  The nurse was standing there “Shellie there’s not enough dye in your body”  oh crap.  “We are going to have to put some more dye in your body”  ”okay” i say.  thinking an I.V.  “I’ll have to give it to you like an enema… do you know what that is?”  I nod.  oh great I think that means he’ll see my behind.  Okay not to big of deal.  I mean its not like he’s cute or anything.  like this is his job. 

So I lay on my side.  the hospital gown is open in the back.  he’s preparing the dye.  ”Okay can you pull down your underwear” he says.  I pull my hospital gown in front of me so it pools around my stomach.  I look down and see my underwear.  I freeze.  My throat feels tight.  It’s monday underwear.  Today is thursday.  I have not been wearing them since monday.  I put them on this morning.  but he doesn’t know that.  He thinks I’ve been wearing them since monday.  he’s thinking why does this 13 year old girl have day of the week underwear.   I feel horrible.   I slid them down.

 I laid on my side.  Big tears pooled in my eyes and dripped across the bridge of my nose.  They collected on the paper sheet underneath me.  I dug into the paper with my finger spreading the tears around and around on the plastic mat underneath.   all of the sudden all of the fear I’d been pushing down came up into me.  the excitement for club med was gone.  I felt scared and sad and hopeless and very alone.  I started to sob silently.  I couldn’t catch my breath. 

The nurse stopped.  “Are you okay?  Am I hurting you”

“No” I said.  I want to say - I haven’t been wearing those underwear since monday. 

Then everything is finished.  I pull up my undies.  I lay back on my back.  I slide back into the CT machine.

The whirring starts again.  They do a couple of practice shots.  “Looks like there’s enough dye” they say after a couple of minutes. 

Then after about an hour I’m done.  They have now seen my body from top to bottom.  They can see that the cancer is everywhere. 

So that was thursday.

Friday- Surgery

Saturday- waiting

Sunday- waiting

Monday- some serious business needs to get done. I immediatly get  checked in and started on chemo. 

Because I’m short on time I would like to post a draft of mine that never saw the blog light of day!!! written FEB 9th 2009

That title is so so  dumb :)

more better title

Things I would like to share with you

#1  Yesterday I wore pantyhose that were like 1 size to small so I couldn’t pull them all the way up so basically I had that gappy restricted nylon feeling.  One of the bishopric even said “Sister Kendrick you are limping”  so I answered “Ah its just my shoe”  cause you can’t yell “Nah I’m just wearing too small pantyhose and its restricting my forward motion Brother Rupp”  across a parking lot.  I felt like a 2 year old. 

#2 I have a cold.  Which means I have frog voice.  Which means while driving around today

there’s some really awesome nautical shirts at old navy right now….

$14.50 each

or online if you buy 3 they are $5 each.  So basically by 3 shirts for $15 :)  I mean come on thats only 50 cents more!!!

eye hearty heart ewe

1. Writing messages in foggy mirrors

2.  looking at Pottery Barn magazine and then trying to find something cheaper at Ikea

3. watching marathons of Millionaire Matchmaker on Bravo all day long

4.  Better Homes and Garden Magazine 

5.  nice people

6.  funny tv shows

and

7. good times 

love,

Shellie

11:40 AM me: Remember all those times I tried to break up with you and you wouldn’t take my drama and would be just so chill and then after I cooled down you would totally forgive all my yelling and letters and angry phone messages.
 Chadwick: and then we would make out
 me: yeah :)
and now 7 years later..
 Chadwick: we are still working on you but it is getting better :)
 me: lol
  I’m glad you put up with my drama

Chadwick: me too