As we drove home I don’t remember much which means I probably laid in the back seat and slept for the 3 hour drive to Idaho. 

When we got home I walked back to the bedroom Stephanie and I shared.  My head was bent down, my chin tucked in almost to my neck.  My neck felt strained, like I had slept bad except instead of not being able to turn it side to side I couldn’t move it up and down.  My head was throbbing and I had enough energy to climb into bed to sleep some more. 

Not much time had passed because when I next opened my eyes it was still very light outside.  Two things woke me up:  The need to throw up and the strong ache in my calves.  I felt the need to move; like when you have to go pee really bad and the only thing that will make the uncomfortable feeling go away is to do a little dance. 

I tried to inch forward slowly off my bed and then I tried to go faster when I realized my stomach wasn’t going to be patient. but my body was to worn down to go any faster and I opted to hang my head over the edge of the bed and threw up all over the floor.  Each heave sent a burst of white hot pain to my brain.  I was able to stop and tried to catch my breath but again the need to throw up was there and the need to move away from the  ache forming in my legs.  I scooted down to the bottom of the bed to avoid the throw up and rolled my legs off so that I was kneeling beside my bed. 

 I started to cry, the sour smell of the throw up was inches away from me and I tried so hard to tell myself to move, to go into the bathroom, all I wanted was to feel the cool white porcelain of the toilet against my cheek.  As I knelt the ache in my calves was building into something larger.  I don’t even know how to describe it.  An intense burning, razor like, throbbing pain.  I needed someone  so I cried out even louder.  Then Stephanie was next to me kneeling beside me, her arms around my shoulders.   

Most people are scared of seeing someone in intense pain.  Sometimes they react either by leaving the situation or by getting angry at the person in pain.  My sister Stephanie who was only 16 years old did neither.  She asked me what was wrong.  My legs felt like they were on fire and I tried to get away from the edge of the bed.  Seeing my need Stephanie helped pull me back so we were both sitting in the middle of the floor. 

I moaned, I cried, I tried to knead the muscles in my calves.  Stephanie batted my hands away and tried to massage where my hands had been.  Her touch wasn’t helping though and now I was getting angry.  This is why they say don’t ever poke a injured bear with a stick because even though that bear is injured it can transform that pain into rage and rise against you and chew your face off.  I know Stephanie was trying to help but I couldn’t stop myself.

“STOP TOUCHING ME!”  I screamed in her face.

She didn’t flinch and didn’t take offense. 

She got up as fast as she could to the bathroom and then I heard water rushing into the tub.  Then she was back to my side, I’m not sure if she helped me walk to the bathroom , but Stephanie does have crazy man strength, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she had scooped me up.  She undressed me and then helped me into the warm water. 

I don’t remember the timing of events after that.  I remember the pain, in my neck, in my head, in every bone and every cell.  Within hours my muscles had curled up and tightened to a point that I couldn’t move.  I  laid on my side in my bed my knees almost to my chest, my arms curled up against them, my wrists bent forward, even my fingers were cramped at every joint in pain. If there was a lineup of 5 crusty petriefied mummies and me I don’t think you’d be able to pick me out. 

I couldn’t sleep.  I laid there hour after hour not knowing when it was going to end.  It scared me.  It kind of scares me  to think of it now.  I’m not sure if I want to go down into it anymore because it kind of depresses me thinking of how pathetic it must have been to feel that way.  To feel like life wasn’t worth living.  Then I’m not sure what time it was but it was late, it was dark outside, my mom called our home teachers. 

I was carried out to the couch and they gave me a blessing.  I don’t know remember what they said.  I remember they were kneeling down next to the couch and I was facing inward towards the cushions.  My eyes were open and while they prayed I stared straight ahead into the brown, orange, and yellow fibers of a throw pillow. 

When they said “Amen” the pain left.  I kid you not.  I felt no pain.  My muscles were still cramped, my body curled up like a little potato bug but I felt relief… not just a little… complete relief.  My heart felt intense love.  I haven’t forgotten that.  Although sometimes I lose focus of that feeling.  I know that God gave me that relief because he loved me.  I fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake up again until morning.

To be continued. 

A spinal tap, also called a lumbar puncture, removes a tiny amount of cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) for laboratory analysis. CSF is the clear, watery fluid that surrounds the brain and spinal cord. Spinal taps can be used to help detect or treat diseases such as cancer, and are also used to measure CSF pressure.

A spinal tap may be used to help diagnose or treat certain cancers:

• Lymphoma. Lymphoma cells often spread into the spinal fluid, allowing physicians to diagnose diseases such as non-Hodgkin lymphoma (THAT’s ME) and eye lymphoma (which can spread to the brain).

Spinal taps also may be used to administer chemotherapy medications designed to treat or prevent brain and central nervous system cancers. In this procedure, known as intrathecal chemotherapy, the drug is injected directly into the CSF and flows freely to the brain and spinal cord.

Intrathecal chemotherapy may be beneficial for some patients to counteract the natural barrier between the bloodstream and the central nervous system. Chemotherapy given with this method may be used to destroy leukemia or lymphoma cells, as well as reduce their growth in the spinal fluid. It may be provided on a daily or weekly schedule depending on the patient’s condition.

Well that about sums up why I had so many spinal taps.   I’m guessing around 20 or so.  Usually they would take place right when I was checked in.  Before I even went upstairs to the Oncology floor I would go back to a examination room, take my shirt off, lay in fetal position and then some doctor would handle the procedure.  Sometimes I would get one maybe the next day after I started a treatment and a doctor would come to my room and say it was Spinal Tap time!!! and then I would do jazz hands and we would skip off to a procedure room down the hall.  

One time this doctor came in and I went with him and when I walked into the procedure room there was a group of interns standing there ready to watch.  It was really uncomfortable but what was I suppose to do?  So I got in fetal position and felt like some sort of circus freak show. 

I understand now that they were there to learn, and by them learning and having that experience with me, that it would continue on to help the next child down the road, and then the next, and then the next through as many generations as neccessary  until one day cancer will be cured.  I wish I could have understood it then, because maybe that pain of them watching me in such a vulnerable moment wouldn’t have been necessary.

The spinal taps were always excruciating. My skin was numb so I never felt the initial pinch  but then the needle would go in between my muscles that were corded around my spine and sweat would already start beading up on my forehead as I tried to lay so still and not move although my body only wanted to buck free of that pain.  I would grip the nurses hand so tight and I would cry.  Every time.  It would last about 7-10 minutes as the fluid was collected and the chemo injected.  It seemed like eternity. 

One day as I was getting ready to check out after a chemo treatment my nurse came in and told me that I hadn’t received my spinal tap treatment yet.  So I went with her to the procedure room.  There was two doctors.  One that I was pretty comfortable with and an intern.  The one doctor introduces me to the intern and says that he’ll be doing the spinal tap and is that okay?  Again what am I suppose to say so I say yes. 

I laid down and the intern rubbed numbing ointment on my vertebrae and then they all talked about different things, things that mattered in their lives, while they got the rest of the equipment ready.  After about 10 minutes the intern wiped the ointment off and tapped my spine with his finger.

“Can you feel that?”  his voice sounded a little nervous

“No” I said

My nurse came to my side and I held her hand.  I remember looking up into her face and she smiled at me and winked.  I closed my eyes and waited. 

I could hear the doctor moving to stand behind the intern.  Then the initial prick of the needle.  I heard the slight pop of it entering my skin and then it moved further into my muscles.  The pain took over and I tightened my grip on the nurses hand.  She held on as I tried to transfer it to her.  Then it got worse.  Worse then I’d ever felt and my voice found the pain and tried to release it in a scream.  Tears flowed down my face and mixed with the sweat.  I tried so hard not to sob because knowing that once my body started to move it wouldn’t want to stop.

The intern was scared.  He said something to the doctor and the doctor reassured him in a quiet voice and told him how to move the needle around through my muscles until he found the pocket of fluid.  The needle moved and the attack continued, wave after wave hit me.  I bit my lip, I clawed the nurses hands, I was scared that it would never end and the pain would get to a point when eventually it would end in death. 

Finally I heard the intern release his breath as he withdrew the needle.  Fluid was collected. Chemicals had been infused.  Mission complete.  My body felt the release and twitched involuntary and I continued to cry.  I tried to roll onto my stomach and bury my head into the table so I could l release my cries and not be as loud. 

They felt bad, and guilty.  I could feel it in the room all aound us and because of the guilt they didn’t want to comfort me.  They wanted me to take it back.  Tell them it didn’t hurt, that it wasn’t their faults. 

The intern came around to my side and he was holding a little laminated sign. 

He told me to point to how I felt.  I can imagine a class called “Pain Scale 101″ that they give to doctors and they teach them if a patient is allowed to point to a sign that shows how bad they feel then the pain will be magically transferred into the cute little frowny face and be felt no more. 

I pointed to “10 HURTS WORST” and looked him in the eyes.  Take it.  I felt pain under your hands.  Say I’m sorry I hurt you.  Say it. 

He smiled sweetly  and says “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad”

That’s when I needed a  man in the room who loved me so much that he would knock this guys teeth out for saying that.  He would grab the intern by the collar of his white coat and throw him against the wall and say between gritted teeth

“LISTEN YOU SWEAR WORD SHE SAID IT SWEAR WORD HURTS!  APOLOGIZE NOW!” 

 and then shove him to the floor and come to the table where I lay, gather me in his arms and take me away.  We would drive all night to Mexico for alternate treatment where spinal taps are non existent, the only thing that would be on the plan would be to lie on the beach sipping fruity drinks and holding hands. 

The intern continued smiling at me and held the sign at my eye level.  He wanted me to point to a lesser pain but I couldn’t.  I closed my eyes and just wanted to go, get out of here, go home.  The intern walked away dejected, he had wanted me to forgive him but I couldn’t when he had never wanted to take the responsibility of what he had done.  

My head hurt from crying so hard.  The nurse helped me up and back to my room.  I laid on the bed and watched TV until it was time to go.  As I walked out to the car with my mom the headache got worse. 

To be continued.

A couple of months ago while I went to Barnes and Noble to read (celeb magazines) and sip on a peach Italian soda.  While I was walking toward the cafe I noticed this book and picked it up because it sounded interesting since I’m a sucker for love and also for history.   What I really love about men from the past is they could write things like

‘Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved…’ -Beethoven

or

‘I awake consumed with thoughts of you…’ - Napoleon Bonaparte

i mean not to be completely cheesy and stupid

but

sigh!

 I think love letters (and letters in general)  are a dying art form now that email, twitter, and facebook are such a great/fast/easy way to communicate.  But I’d like to share with you a great love letter that I received when I was 15 and even after all these years it still puts a smile on my face :) 

notice all the smudges of ink?  Thats because for a lot of years when I read this I would cry and cry and hold it to my face and be all dramatic :)

if you have a great love letter I think it would be awesome if you scanned it in and posted it and then my next post we’ll share some linky love and then we can all go to each others blogs and feel like we’ve just read a Jane Austen novel.   

love,

shellie

i love boots

i would buy this pair

i own one pair of boots.  I bought them at the DI like 6 years ago.  I think a hooker donated them.   well a hooker from the 90’s anyway because they do have a thick chunky heel. 

Seriouly they are fug.  

and to be honest they make me feel ashamed. 

and to be even more honest they came from payless.

so that means

Payless—>hooker—>D.I.—-> Shellie

awesome.

buying these boots means means one thing and one thing only

REDEMPTION

and I would wear them everywhere even to the beach

and it would be a beautiful and mystical sight to behold. 

(I’ll  have to start a boot redemption fund because those bad boys are $448 at victoriassecret.com But i have a plan to save up all my free underwear coupons they send me and maybe do a trade)

i love this site

here’s a couple of my favorites

(that one reminds me of my sisinlaw lisa :)

i think i’ll start writing little love messages on gum wrappers and I will call it gumwrapperlove.com

it will probably make me a million dollars

Sometimes when I get in a weird silly romantic mood I like to sing this song to chad in a really awesome half french canadian / half deep tranny voice

Chad can’t get enough of it. 

what are some ways that you like to annoy your spouse?

ever since I saw my friend Brooke wearing these heels the other night I can’t stop thinking about them! 

and while searching for above shoes I now also covet these!

• Today was Dallen’s first day as a first grader.  I asked him how lunch was and he said “I drank the white milk because it has less sugar and its not a junk food.”  I told him that was a good choice.  Then he said “GUESS WHAT MOM!”  “What?”  “It’s also LOW IN FAT!!!” 
• While we were out in Utah I noticed Kate (who was naked from the waist down) with her hand behind her  back near her butt area making some sort of sawing motion.  I asked her what she was doing and she turned to let me see the side of her hand was wedged between her butt cheeks and she said “Just slicing my buns” 
• I love that Dallen is very considerate to how other people are doing.   When he’s on a phone call with grandparents or family he always asks “So what did you do today?” or “How are you?”  Some of his teachers have told me that he asks if they had a good weekend and that most kids at this age mostly only relate to whats going on in their own life. 
• I love that Kate has the cutest wedged hair cut in all of Georgia.  Utah knows how to Wedge Cut!
• On that note when Kate got her hair cut when the stylist asked what she thought Kate  dreamily sighed  and said “I look like Miss Connie:)”  Connie is my really good friend that lives down the street here in Georgia who has a very cute bob cut as well.
• Dallen got new glasses and when he put them on he realized he could see so much better that he thought he could also read minds for some reason.  He would look at Chad or I and say (and I’m guessing  because he could see our facial expressions better)  “I know what you are thinking.  You are happy.  I can read minds”
• This morning before school Dallen told me that he had a weird feeling in his tummy.  I told him that it was probably was because he was nervous.  and then he slowly nodded his head to confirm.
• Kate adds the “e” sound behind almost every word.  Like she wants a “smalley one”  or a “cheesy”  or a “grapey”  I think she’s turning into TAMN and soon she’ll be saying “Bestie” and “Rezi” 

Here’s my advice in case you forgot