breathe in...and out....

Like I said, last time I posted probably wasn't the best time to blog. But things are better now, like they always are....life is manageable once again. My dear friend R and I went out for lunch and coffee Friday in the midst of my UNCdeletingmyONYENcrisis, and I felt much, much better afterwards. This weekend has been filled with talking with family and catching up with friends, and reading good books. I have also been running, which is a great stress-reliever and endorphin producer.

My nursing application is in. It is out of my hands, and all I can do now is wait, and hope.

Speaking of hope....I struggle to reconcile hope with fact. With my aunt's diagnosis, intellectually, I know it is less than ideal. But I also know that inherently, when it comes to individual people, statistics mean nothing. They are just numbers. We all know people who beat the odds, who shouldn't have lived, who have come much further than was ever expected of them. Look at Lance Armstrong. Look at Patrick Swayze. Never underestimate the power of will to live, of a fighting spirit. I often overlook this, because I can't "quantify" it, can't measure it, can't prove it. It defies simple, logical explanation and that bothers me to no end. But it happens. And in this line of work, that can be nice to remember. It's necessary to remember.

This is also my first time dealing with the whirlwind that accompanies a late-stage cancer diagnosis of someone I love. I didn't know about J's late stage of her breast cancer until afterwards, when she was in remission, and R's cancer is a recurrence....so this, this is new. And it's shocking. It is all-encompassing, pulltheflooroutfromunderyou stunning. Things were fine one week, the next, all hell has broken loose. It goes against everything explainable. And the anger....but there's no one or nothing to be angry at, because this cancer has no good screening test. It has no super-early warning signs. There's not a pin-pointable cause. No rhyme or reason. Which just seems to fuel the anger. Or at least my anger, anyway. I'm angry because I'm not a doctor and I can't make this alright. I'm angry because I'm not up there. I'm angry because oncology doesn't have better things to offer her, and what we have seems so inadequate when you're faced with the knowledge of how this disease works and where it is right now.

So what am I doing? I am reading my books, reading the Bible, praying (even if I don't fully understand where G-d is coming from), drinking my coffee, listening to my nephew's laugh on the phone, and enjoying the sunshine every day. What else can I do?

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." - Albert Einstein

i like my coffee dark and bitter, like my soul, thanks.

Right now is probably not the best time to blog. I'm in a wicked bad mood, angry at everyone and everything, hating my life, and annoyed at the stupid internet. I'm at Barnes & Noble because my stupid Mac won't connect well to the internet at home, and even here, I'm trying to apply to the goddamn nursing program at UNC and it keeps messing up. WTF? I am NOT happy. Not at all. I am missing my family. I miss my nephew like crazy. It's times like these - when I am stressed and upset - that he has the power to make me feel so much better about life just by wrapping his little arms around me and smiling in my face. I miss him so much I ache. It is days like this that I wonder, what is really keeping me here in Chapel Hill? Sometimes I don't know. 

My aunt had her surgery on tuesday. Right now they are saying it's stage IIIc. I don't even have the energy to elaborate more. Not that anyone wants to hear about it, from what I can tell. 

Honestly? I have 2 graduate degrees, and right now, they're about as useful as toilet paper. I feel like it's all been a waste, frankly. I've been pursuing the wrong things for too many years, the wrong jobs, the wrong professions....and look where it's gotten me. I just can't do this anymore. This is not what I signed up for. I want a huge do-over. I want the last 10 years back. 

So I sit here at B&N, furiously trying to blink back the tears that are threatening to spill over onto the table. Was it really only a few weeks ago that I was in NJ, having dinner with B and C, and staying late at the office, talking with Jonel and Nicole? Was it really so recently that I spent the entire weekend with my sweet Trey, waking up to his little body sneaking through my bedroom door and then a big smile an inch from my face? Was it really only a few weeks ago that my entire family was healthy? That the biggest worry was baby Cole's impending arrival? Unreal. I want that time back. I want to be back up North, enjoying that time again, enjoying my lunch at the Cheesecake Factory with  my grandparents, enjoying lunch at Ponzios, laughing with Natalie, bringing Trey everywhere, going to breakfast with my mom...I am THISclose to just charging the damn ticket, just to get some peace of mind and relaxation. 

it whispers.

I haven't written recently....I've been applying to jobs, contemplating oncology nursing, and missing family. And, unfortunately, worrying. Last night my aunt - my only aunt - was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and primary peritoneal carcinoma. PPC is similar to epithelial ovarian cancer, it reacts the same to treatment, etc. It's just in the peritoneum, or the lining of the abdominal cavity. Her surgery - TAH +BSO, and any debulking, will be done tuesday, and we should know the Stage better by then....although the doctors have hinted of spread. She had 7 pounds of ascites drained from her abdomen....and the docs said it will likely come back. This can be a sign of advanced disease. 

She went to her doctor a few months ago, with a bloated abdomen, fatigue, constipation....and like many doctors, he didn't suspect ovarian cancer. He told her it was likely high cortisol levels from her stressful job. He didn't do a transvaginal ultrasound or anything - most docs don't. As they say in medicine, "when you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras." Unfortunately, ovarian cancer is a bit of a zebra. Many women are told their symptoms are just part of getting older, or stress, or they're worked up for GI problems....this is why the majority of women who are diagnosed with ovarian cancer present with advanced disease. It's been said that ovarian cancer "whispers", because its symptoms are so quiet and nonspecific.  

I am struggling with not saying too much to my cousin, her son, who seems to think she's Stage I or II. Of course he wants to believe this - he needs to. He's going to be a father in a month, and needs his mother to be around and well. I am fighting to choose hope. I keep reminding myself statistics are just numbers. I am hoping for optimal debulking. I am hoping the chemotherapy that we have - most likely, I assume she'll be treated with a platinum-based drug, like carboplatin/cisplatin, and paclitaxel - isn't too harsh and will actually do its job. Like Jerome Groopman has written, "It is hard to be a person of faith and a person of science." I struggle with that all the time, and even more so now. 

But honestly? My first reaction is neither mature or logical. My first reaction is what the fuck? Two people in my family in less than a year are diagnosed with cancer? This has got to be some sort of mistake. My family is not that big to have these statistics. My first reaction is to rail against G-d, to turn my back on prayer and faith, and to get angry. But then I settle down, and I know that G-d did not do this, that renegade cells did this, and prayer might help. 

Seriously, things like this reinforce my drive to be an oncologist. This is surreal. And, of course, now, when I got to doctors, I now have ovarian and breast cancer in my family. But they're on opposite sides of the family, and my aunt is not Jewish, so I doubt there's a risk of BRCA, since my grandmother tested negative. 

So, please, if you read this, please keep my aunt in your thoughts and prayers - I know you all did that for my grandmother, and she's doing super. :)  thanks.

soul food

My nephew and I, wearing our LiveStrong bracelets. 

Laughing with my nephew.

I haven't updated in over a week, because I went up North for 7 days to visit family. I needed something to yank me out of this rut and reinvigorate me. I spent lots of time with family, my nephew, mentors and friends, and kids. It was just what I needed to restore my soul and fill up my heart. I had dinner with the family I used to nanny for, visited my former coworkers (and really realized how much I've missed them), met with 2 mentors......And now I'm back in Chapel Hill, and trying to figure things out. 

I won't be going to UNCG. When I was in NJ, several people asked me why I wasn't looking at oncology nursing.....I guess I just always felt like it was so gender-stereotyped, and I didn't want to be shoved into that mold. So UNC chapel hill has an MSN oncology nursing program....but you have to have a BSN, and they have an accelerated program. It's a thought. We'll see. 

One of my new obsessions is the brand lululemon. It's a brand of yoga wear that just seems so neat. Expensive, but their stuff is reeealllly cute. 

lululemon stuff

Latest Obsessions

Music: A Fine Frenzy, Gillian Welch

Food: Haribo gummy bears

Soda: diet Sunkist

Lipgloss: Stila cherry crush

by the way, has anyone else seen that "cotton: the fabric of our lives" commercial with Zooey Deschanel? So weird. I can't believe she did that commercial. 

ghosts of memory

It is a small, small world. I am watching the Bravo tv show, the infamous NYC Prep.....believe me, it is NOT a stellar show, and honestly, no real Upper East Side established family would ever let their kids be on it. Anyway, one of the girls on the show was interviewing voice coaches, and I realized that one of the voice coaches was the mother of someone I went to middle school with. Namely, the boy who had AML (acute myelogeous leukemia) and passed away when he was 13 and I was 12. I could not believe it. That was a pivotal event in my life, one whose shockwaves still reverberate today. When I think of why I want to be a pediatric oncologist, Erik is one of the first things that goes through my mind. 

i BLEED Carolina blue, damnit.

Today ended up to be one of those quintessential Chapel Hill days....a kind of day that I would really miss if I moved to NY. I ran some errands in the morning, and then my friend L called me to see if I wanted to go to the organic co-op, sit outside, and "work on job applications". Instead, we got organic sodas for 75cents a can, and yummy cookies, and sat outside and just talked. And I killed some bugs, one of which was very bloody and got all over my MCAT chem book. good times. I'm not exactly a nature lover, if you haven't noticed. In fact -- and this is true, just ask my mother -- I was never even a Girl Scout. The reason why? I didn't like their uniforms, I thought they were ugly. I told this to L and she laughed and said that was a "very Jaime thing to say". Anyway, we ended up walking to the local farmers market, where I got 3 decent sized potatoes for less than a dollar, and ended up making potato slices with butter, rosemary, salt, and pepper. And it's one of those days where it's warm, but not too warm to comfortably sit outside for hours. L and I talked about jobs, possible relocations.....and she even said I love NY.....but honestly, I really love my life here, too. It's so much less pressurized, and relaxed....but would I be willing to sacrifice an amazing career move for that? I don't know. I honestly don't know the answer to any of these questions I have right now. 

And when I got home, I got a nice letter from UNCG, telling me that they are refusing to classify me as in-state tuition. Mind you - I moved here in August 2007. To be considered a resident, you need to have lived in NC for 12 months prior to applying. I sent them proof of my NC drivers license, registration, car insurance, income taxes, property taxes paid, voting registration -- and got a nice letter telling me I needed to have a bona fide (they italicized it) domicile residence here for at least 12 months. I'm not quite sure what the problem is, but I do know this: if I don't get in-state tuition, I'm not going to UNCG. The difference between instate and out of state is more than $20k a year, and as bad as this sounds, I really don't think UNCG is worth $30k a year. I'm not doing that, that's ridiculous. In which case...........I'm not sure what my life is turning into, actually. 

In search of a good Philly pretzel....

Boathouse Row in the daytime

Boathouse Row at night

I grew up in NJ (hold the jokes, please), but not the Sopranos NJ that everyone knows - that's North Jersey. I grew up in South Jersey, about 15 minutes from Philadelphia. I root for the Philadelphia Flyers, the Philly Eagles, and the Phillies. In high school, my friends and I would go to South Street and hang out, which was a street filled with restaurants, coffee shops, tattoo/piercing shops, hippie stores, punk stores, etc. During the summer, my camp would take trips to the Academy of Natural Sciences, the Franklin Institute (which is STILL one of my favorite places), and the Art Museum. My mom and I would run the Race for the Cure every year, warming up on the art museum steps -- yes, the same ones Rocky ran up in the movie.  I interned at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania when I was getting my MS in clinical health psychology, and have spent more time on the campuses of Drexel University and Penn than I can even count. When I would drive home at night from classes, I'd cross the bridge over to NJ, and at night, Boathouse Row would be all lit up, and it remains one of my favorite memories. 

Of course, Philly has changed a lot over the years. My brother couldn't pronounce it right, and he once called it "Filthy-delphia"...which isn't far from the truth. Crime rates have risen, and I would never, ever go to South Street at night now. Why the sudden nostalgia? Rocky is on tv right now, and it made me laugh at first -- because Sly Stallone reminds me of my dad. A lot. But then it cut to a shot of the art museum, and it actually made me a little homesick. I miss philly soft pretzels you buy on the corner, the planetarium at the Franklin Inst, Cereality on Penn's campus, Tiffany's at the Bellevue...I haven't had a real Philly pretzel in I don't know how long. mmm. 

Anyway.....just watching Rocky and feeling nostalgic, and missing NJ a little tonight....

but I don't live in the Rocky Mountains....

Yes, I am blogging on a friday night. I've been so exhausted lately, but I might finally have a reason why. I went to the doctor's today, and have been started on prophylaxis/treatment of Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, which is transmitted by tick bites. yeah. Symptoms can take a few weeks to really develop, and I had thought I got bitten about a month ago, but it wasn't a traditional bulls-eye rash. So....fast-forward to the past few weeks, w/weird bruising, spotty rashes on my arms/feet, GI probs, sleep probs, chills, fatigue, headaches....because tests for this and Lyme Disease often come up with unreliable results, he just put me on 10 days of antibiotics, because the treatment and prophylaxis are the same. So hopefully I will start to feel better soon. THIS is why I am so not an outdoorsy girl. Give me the wilds of Fifth Ave anytime. 

Right now, I'm not sure what I am doing with my life in the fall. I am still enrolled in UNCG, but I've also been applying to jobs....so I really don't know what is going to happen. It makes me nervous, but I have to learn to deal with that. 

reflections on independence

My brother and Trey

Me being me, of course I've been analyzing my life to death lately.....I feel like I'm in a sort of emotional/physical purgatory -- neither here nor there, just sort of existing. It's a very disconcerting place to be. It's a constant effort not to stagnate at the bottom, you know? Right now, what seems to work is frequently reminding myself to take things one minute at a time, one hour at a time, one day at a time. I just have this moment. I don't have to solve my life's problems or have my new life plan by tomorrow. It will be okay. Another thing that helps is talking to my nephew, and getting pictures of him from my family on my cell phone. He brings such a joy to my life; one that is unmatched. I also find it helps to focus on my gratitude for what I have in my life. It's hard to feel hopeless or down when you're filled with gratitude. 

I applied for a job that has nothing to do with cancer....it's more education/counseling. They wanted someone with a Master's in counseling, public health, student affairs, etc - and, oh, I happen to have two. So I applied. Sometimes I find myself wondering if, despite my fascination and love for oncology, I am able to do it. The emotional component is a large part of what drives me to do this work, but at the same time, that emotional part threatens to overtake me, because of the anger and (at times) feelings of desperation and hopelessness. Most of the time I can channel these into something productive, but sometimes, it just doesn't happen. And I do miss the counseling relationships I used to have. There's something very humbling about being allowed into someone's emotional life. You're in that shared space, and sometimes the lines are blurred, and the learning and healing goes both ways.

I'm reading these books, "Tweak", by Nic Sheff, and "Beautiful Boy", by David Sheff, his father. The two books chronicle Nic's drug addiction and recovery process, told from two very, very different viewpoints. And I got to thinking about my brother. My brother struggled with addiction when he was in high school, and has been clean and sober for over 7 years. I am so incredibly proud of him. He bought a house, he has a job, he is an attentive and loving father to his son, and he really has made a life for himself. School never came easy to him, and he's had to work pretty hard for everything he has. He literally hit bottom, and has journeyed so far from where he was years ago. Has it been an easy, smooth path? No; it never is. He hurt and lied to every single person in the family during his using. He was belligerant and volatile and hell-bent on self-destruction. But with a lot of work, rehab, NA meetings, a sponsor.....he did it. And I don't often tell my brother how proud I am of how far he's come, but today I did just that. I called him and told him so. 

just another summer day

Life has a funny way of working out. I'm not going to discuss specifics, but I got an interesting phone call about a possible job in NYC the day I moved into my new place here in NC. I then had a surprise phone interview yesterday and I'm waiting to hear about an in-person interview. Craziness. 

I'm watching Wimbledon right now, and it always reminds me of high school summers -- I'd watch Wimbledon in early/mid-summer, and usually the US Open coincided with tennis tryouts, so I'd come home from tryouts/practice and watch tennis. I would measure my summers by tennis. When my dad got home from work, we'd go to the tennis courts and play a few sets, and then I'd run the lines. Summer has always been intertwined with my racquet getting re-strung, buying a new grip cover, and popping open new cans of tennis balls. I still love tennis as much as I did, although I don't get to play nearly as much. But that feeling of being back on the court, thwacking a two-handed backhand.....losing myself in the flow of the game....the tennis court was somewhere I was confident, I was in my element. In the midst of confusion, it was a refuge. Tennis just clicks for me. I miss it a lot. 

In the wake of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett's passing, someone also worth mentioning is Dr.Jerri Nielsen Fitzgerald. She was the doctor who was in Antarctica and diagnosed and biopsied her own breast cancer. I read her book, Ice Bound, which tells her amazing story. She had chemo airlifted and sent to her, and her cancer went into remission, but returned 5 years later, and metastasized to her liver, bones, and brain. She was only 57, and died last week as well. 

When I hear things like that, and think of everyone I know who has been diagnosed, it just reminds me why I am pursuing oncology. But if I get this job....I might have to put that to rest. I'd still be working in oncology....but not as a physician. It brings up a lot of tough choices and lots of emotion.