Day 3 of the Second Cycle
April 20, 2016 (4/20) Happy Holidays!
I haven’t written in quite sometime. I haven’t been feeling up to it at all. I’ve been doing a lot of crying and a LOT of sleeping. I kind of took a seat back from the world and didn’t answer my phone as often as I should have. (Back on those fun pills that mess with your emotions.) But as of today, I am feeling motivated and ready to go.
I am back to report some things I’ve noticed within our sorrowful time apart. But first, let me set the scene in which I write to you in.
My parents provide the background music of both of them FaceTiming the same person, but on their separate phones. I don’t ask questions.
I currently need to pee but I am so close to being done with the last drug for the week (aka they de-access me) so I am HOLDING IT TIL IT CAN’T HOLD NO MORE. (excuse my use of language. It is for dramatic effect. )
The chemotherapy-room table is my sophisticated desk that I sit my computer gracefully on, in order to report to you, my sweet, sweet readers.
Behind my parents is an opaque wall where I can see the lining of Cowboy Bob. This will lead into the things I have noticed during my short-lived hiatus.
1.
This pee thing is actually getting to me. 45 minutes left. Must distract. Ok. Let’s try this again.
1. Cowboy Bob. My totally-normal-obsession with him has become more of an endless intriguement. (Not sure if that’s a word. But I am keeping a list of things I find out about him. So maybe we don’t need to ex out the word obsession.) (I just peed. I had to.)
- Talks to parents mostly
- Actually pretty nice
- His day off is Tuesday
- He knows my name. He greeted me on my way back from the bathroom.
- He has a key chain on the back of his jeans filled with bracelets. I caught the name of one of them: Angels of Sandy Hook Elementary. He’s officially a great guy.
- Wears Sheriff badge. Is he Cowboy Bob or Sheriff Bob?!!???
- He asked me if he could have the honor of taking my vitals. Our friend Sheriff/Cowboy Bob is a jokester it seems.
- He wears glasses and has a mustache.
- He always wears a procedure mask. (Flu masks) He is a prepared man.
- Wears yellow live strong bracelet
- Makes jokes and was happy when he got me to smile.
- Returned to take my vitals but said “May I again have the honor?” This guy. Ammiright.
- Made small talk on my way out today. My dad and I think his real name is Mark.
- Do I even know him anymore?
So, basically, CBB and I are on the way to being great pals. I will continue my list though, don’t worry. I’ve also realized my list has punctuation but sometimes it does not. I apologize for those who are serious about punctuation.
2. I will have to change my Bitmoji. What’s a bitmoji, you may be wondering? I will tell you. A Bitmoji is a personal emoji that eerily, dare I say, creepily, looks like you. I made mine way back in the day (first semester) so I’ve realized my wavy brown locks will have to be changed to a bald head. It made me laugh but like, in a really sad way. Hahhahhaah. Cringe.
3. Whenever I am in the bathroom in the apartment I’m staying at, (clearly peeing is something I often do. [and excel in, for your information.]) I start to see faces in the tiling. The same way one looks at clouds and sees rabbits and ice cream trucks and elephants, I see faces and pants and bananas. It’s a fun time.
So today was my third day of Chemo of the Second Cycle. Pretty exciting stuff, to be honest. If everything goes well, I should be done with chemo by July 10. Can you imagine? Because I can and it makes me jumpy and I just want to be there already. I don’t ever know what I am supposed to capitalize. Fuck it.
Today, I got to the hospital around 8:30 for my occupational therapy. This was my first time there. I fell asleep in the waiting room. (I am telling you, I sleep more than ever. I am kind of like a baby. Close-to-bald head and all.) Speaking of which, I am coming to terms with the hair thing. But we’ll get back to that later.
So I’m full on sleeping in the waiting room, but then we hear my name. My parents and I go into the examination room. Our occupational therapist was Hallie. She may or may not be Reese Witherspoon. Then, I had my physical therapist call me into the physical therapy room. She was awesome. Her name is Regine. We talked about dance, about acting, about clothes. It gave some normalcy to this otherwise abnormal situation.
Then we were on my way to the chemotherapy room. Bed 26, Cowboy Bob’s (Or Mark!!?!!?) territory. Score. (Hence my beautifully detailed list about him.) I sat up and began FaceTiming one of my best friends from High School, Elana, to show her what it looked like when a port was accessed. Then, I FaceTimed Kristina, because it was time to finalize where we were living next year. (We’re going to be roommates!!!!!)
Us and two other girls (Marion and Katie) want to live in a dorm together next year. Two in one room and the others in another. Unfortunately for us, we were given a not-so-ideal time to choose. (Everyone who plans on dorming is given a time to do so.) So I FaceTimed Kristina who was with both Katie and Marion from my bed in my chemotherapy room.
I have never been so stressed.
This room was taken, this floor wasn’t high enough, we can’t be in that dorm…and I was listening from a phone instead of face to face interaction. I felt like I was not being heard and I was so stressed out I honestly am getting worked up just reliving it. It was just another reminder that I am not a normal freshman girl. And it took all my control not to start crying. And my dad saw me getting upset so he thought it would be a good idea to step in and start talking into the FaceTime. Which made me completely upset. I pushed him away, feeling stupider than I did before. My friends were going at it with ideas and looking at the same screen, while I was talking not even knowing if anyone was listening. I felt like that one person on a sidewalk who is struggling to stay in line with the rest of their friends. It just sucked.
Once I got off the FaceTime, I breathed in, and on the exhale began to cry. I felt like I did something wrong. It wasn’t even a big deal what was happening, it just got to me.
I didn’t have time to cry for long, because my nurse, Angela, came in to get some of my blood and to hook me up to some saline for hydration! Woohoo! I worked on my blog and joked around with my parents for a while.
Doctors came in and out checking on me. My dad went to get a soda from the vending machine, my mom went to the bathroom, and I was content typing to y’all on my computer. I didn’t feel nauseous, had a chocolate pudding…all was good. (well?)
Then my mom came back with someone I had met in a previous hospital visit, Suzie. Suzie is really cool. She works in Child Life Services. Suzie reminds me of one of the cool counselors I had at summer camp. My mom, Suzie and I had a really dope conversation about feminism, Amy Schumer, and how gender stereotypes and double standards are so present in our daily life. It was such an awesome conversation that had nothing to do with cancer. It was awesome. I know I just said that, but it was.
Not soon after, my social worker, Kristie came in and joined us, but asked my mom and dad to step out.
We had the greatest conversation I’ve had in so long. We talked about everything I’ve been holding in but with such needed comic relief in between. Both of them had insight and words of comfort that I needed to hear after this past week. I was in a really bad place these past few days, nonstop crying and nonstop sleeping. Worrying about my hair, and being normal, and everything in the future. Losing my eyebrows, maybe even my eyelashes. Seeing my friends enjoy the beautiful NYC weather and not being able to participate. Nonstop worry. And this conversation gave me what I needed. We talked about everything. Not just cancer.
I am motivated. I feel really motivated. I am so exhausted and tired right now in this moment, but tomorrow I am going to wake up. And it will be a new moment. And I am going to go the hospital for that stupid shot I need to get, and then I am going to go on a walk. And then I will do yoga. And I will kill cancer.
*cue hero-esque music*
I just got off the phone with my very favorite Uncle Michael’s friend named John. John is really into theater (writing and performing) so it was awesome to hear from him. It was such an uplifting conversation, too.
Judith darling (my mom) made me some of her infamous baked french fries. THEY WERE DELICIOUS. But now I am still hungry. I have weird cravings all the time and I am weirdly craving chocolate chip Little Bites muffins. They are so delicious.
David drew a picture of Spiderman (it’s really good. He’s very talented.) and my mom put it on our refrigerator. It makes me smile. He surprised me at the hospital yesterday morning Whadddda guy.
Within the past week I went to a wig store with my parents. It was so fun. I genuinely had such a good time trying on wigs of different colors and lengths. I didn’t hate myself as a blonde, either. The worst part was the in-between wig trying. Staring at myself.
Before cancer, I struggled with body image. As many girls and women do, and men for that matter. I still do. So adding this losing-hair bit really makes it hard. I avoid mirrors. Today was the first day I let myself not wear my hat. I’ve worn hats to sleep. I purchased a wig that day, but I don’t know how to put it on. It makes me cry. I feel so fake.
But I don’t want to relive that. It’s just, body image is something everyone struggles with. Cancer patients, moms, dads, your neighbor, probably your grandma. In some way, shape or form. I mean if you don’t, swag on you; please spread the wisdom in self-love. But if not, we can get through it. I don’t know. I’m not a self-image, body-image spokesperson. This is just my experience.
I’ve been talking to my friend who is also a freshman in college, and she just told me a story about how her friend called her a slut for seeing a few guys throughout the year.
That makes me SO MAD. To demean my friend is to demean all women. Being sexual does not make you a slut. Ugh, I hate that word. It’s so dirty and old. It is such a 19th century way of thinking, in my opinion. And when women call other women sluts? I can’t. I cannot even. Why would you put another woman down for her decisions in her own sex life? Or at all?? I think we women should stick together. Unless, for example, good ol’ Sally murdered someone. That is when we can rat on Sally and perhaps question her decision making. Won’t hear me calling her a slut, though.
That was a nice rant. Don’t you ever just enjoy a good old fashioned rant? Sometimes people rant in the form of music. Replaying the same playlist until you feel something is out of your system, or something better replaced it. Or drawing until the source of the rant is out.
Rants are kind of beautiful.
I envy those who can rant endlessly. How do thoughts form that quickly and articulately? That’s why I wanna vote for Trump!
Ha. Just kidding. Let’s leave politics alone.
I just took a shower and a lot of my motivation went away. I have noticed my eyebrows thinning. But I saw an eyelash or two fall out in the shower. I was singing away noticing the weird faces in the tiled shower and on my hand were my eyelashes. I was having such a good day and now I’m hysterically crying. I do not want my eyelashes to go. I love them. It sounds so superficial but I love them they are my favorite part of me. I don’t know what to do. I know there’s makeup and fake eyelashes and what not. I couldn’t tell you the last time I wore makeup, and fake eyelashes make me feel just that. Fake. They are beautiful on others and I admire those who even know how to put them on. But I can’t have the same feeling I do with wigs. I just can’t.
I’m hoping for a better end to this post and to this night.
I really don’t want to lose my eyelashes. I want this to be over.
I don’t know who to go to with this. I know I’m not the only human to have cancer and that I have the world’s greatest support system known to man.
It is just hard to lean on someone with something like this.
It went from bad to worse. I have never cried as much as I have tonight. I have nothing else I can write. Tonight was terrible. Absolutely terrible. I took an eyelash falling out of my eye to a girl being a bad friend to how I cannot possibly have cancer. I have never felt so incredibly lost and confused. I want someone to blame and there is no one. I hate how I handling everythng. In this moment, I really hate myself. I can’t even find a joke in here. I am looking for ways to feel better by myself. I can’t have people around me. I make myself more upset than I need to be. I feel scared and alone.
I hate cancer.
I reread this post. How do we lose positivity so fast?
I am not sure if I hate myself or cancer more in this moment.
shitiamgoingthrough 
Hi Casey, This is very touching and very Casey , cancer or no cancer!!!! I’m glad to hear you are talking it out and writing again!
Thinking of you and sending tight hugs!!! Nancy
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Casey – i love you – feel so close to you – feel like i finally know who elana, julia, jessica, and billie know. I am truly inspired by your honesty, by your intuitions, perceptions, and your ability to write poignantly and simply. one of my favorite lines is whether casey bob is he really a cowboy or a sheriff. i love the facts about him section. i love you and your being in the moment. i know and i truly feel with each passing moment you are closer to cancer-free. i believe in you casey and i believe in you because this cancer each day as it is weakening is strengthening how we all know you. i never truly knew you other than as one of the five fucks that loves french fries, can sing, chock full of personality, and can play a mean game of balderdash. now i listen to the rhythm of your heart and soul. i love that i have a daughter who was first in your blog as that it an honor. in spite of the fact you love the bachelor (i will never get it – to me all the women on the show are sluts – ok this is like talking about trump and politics – i will follow your lead and bail – Casey what i do know is the you of you . lucky me. lucky us. and by the way …. FUCK did i say that clearly … FUCK CANCER!
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So good to read your post. It made me worry that you stopped writing. It’s good to know you just needed a break. Understandable.
I pray for you every day.
We are in Israel for Pesach. All three of our kids live here and our grandson. It’s our first time back since my husband started chemo. Never thought we’d see the day. Life with cancer is just as you describe it: The dark parts are dark. But then there are moments of joy.
Love you Casey. Hope to meet you one day. You are so honest and articulate and amazing. Stay strong.
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Casey, I am so impressed with your courage and your ability to share your experience. When I was going through my “shit I wished I wasn’t going through” I had all these thoughts going through my head and thought about writing about it but didn’t have the strength you do. All of what you say is so authentic. Of course you feel lost. Your life has been turned upside down.. Hang in there.. July will be here sooner then you think. Xoxoxoxoxo
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Hello Casey. First off I PLEAD you to read this, because it just means so much to me. You know who I am but we have not seen each other in a long time. We used to go to high school together and we knew of each other, but we really didn’t know each other. I wanted to just say that you have permanently changed my life with your words. Your ability to be so open about this intimate part about your life has inspired me to become intimate with my life. That is why I want to share something with you that I have kept secret my entire life. I am lesbian/gay (sorry I am still not comfortable revealing which gender I am). I have always had these feelings for the same-sex when I was much younger and I didn’t know what it was until I had reached middle school/ high school. I made sure that NOBODY ever knew because I did not feel comfortable with myself and I felt guilty about having these feelings because I frequently thought there was something wrong with me. You talked about fakeness in this post: fake eyelashes, wigs, etc. I was also fake. I pretended to be straight all the way in middle school and high school because I thought that is how I am supposed to be and that is what is expected of me. I came out to a sibling in January and then proceeded to tell close cousins. The biggest barrier was my mom and my dad. I was scared that they wouldn’t love me anymore so i struggled with several months trying to tell them. I didn’t want my relationship with them to change because they are the most important people in my life. A few weeks ago, somebody told me about your blog (me and you are not exactly facebook friends lol). I was so moved by your words and the way you were able to express yourself. You helped give me the courage to do what I never thought that I could do in my life. A few days ago, I came out to my parents and finally said the words out loud. It might take a while for it to sink in, but I am glad that they reassured their love for me and my relationship with them has not/will not change. It makes me so grateful that I live in a place where it is not illegal or taboo to be who I am. Anyway, the message I wanted to give you is a message of encouragement. I always felt lonely because I thought I was the only one who felt like this and I would remain isolated. If you every start feeling lonely, sad, or isolated, just know that you are not alone and there are countless people going through the same thing that you are going through. I also wanted to emphasize to please not hate yourself. I hated myself for a long time because of the inner turmoil within me and I know it is not a good feeling. Whenever you start hating yourself, remember that you are helping and changing the lives of countless people with your work. If you ever start feeling sad, lonely, depressed, or angry, know that you helped change my life in ways I never thought were possible. You helped me say something out loud that I wanted to say for so many years. That truly is the best medicine of all. Remember that medicine is a powerful thing, and that it just doesn’t come in the form of a bunch of things in vials, but also in laughter, friends, and family. One day you may know who I am, and you will know sooner rather than later. I wish you much health, happiness, and joy with every passing day.
Love, the person who you do not know, but one day will know
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Thank you so much for sharing your story with me💜 I’m sad I don’t know you, but proud of you regardless
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Hi this is Casey’s dad (Scott). Your comment was absolutely amazing and encouraging. Thank you so much. You should be proud of yourself, as I am sure your parents are proud of you.
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Stay strong Casey!!!! You are so much stronger than this cancer!!!!
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Hi, Casey. It’s Diane. I am so proud of you for spewing your feelings out loud! I know it’s hard and cathartic all at the same time! Keep it up! I feel like I am visiting with you without having to ask the hard questions, although I still hope to visit at some time! I’m so sorry about your hair loss. But remember that it’s only temporary. …and at some point you Will need to get your eyebrows waxed again! LOL. And I will be there!! I love you and your strength, even though you may not think you have any, you DO! And you feed your strenghth and determination each time you write about it! Keep it up! I love you, my sweetheart!
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Casey, You are stronger than you know. We are all behind you and sending our love….
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly…..”
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Casey, you are so totally amazing. I wish I could just take this burden from you for just one day so you could be the old/ future you. Talk to everyone who is there to help you. You are so freaking funny, too. I love reading your blog. You are very, very talented!
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You are so funny and I love reading your blog. Writing can be amazing therapy, both from letting out negative feelings (and therefore being able to look at them from a more distant perspective) and from articulating positive goals in order to achieve them. That being said, it is another thing entirely to share that personal writing with the world, and I really admire you for your dedication to putting yourself out there and to helping others. I think that the most beautiful thing about this type of journaling is the raw emotion that comes out in the moment, documenting feelings that later on you might not even remember you had. However, it pained me to read you hating yourself. Hate cancer, hate fate, hate how you feel and hate the circumstance but never hate yourself!! It absolutely sucks that you have to go through this, and of course you will ultimately have learned an incredible amount from the experience (I have to justify the fact that anyone suffers by believing that fate has a method to its madness), but you are still the same you, and you are not any less or worse by how you are handling one of the toughest obstacles life has thrown at you. In fact, you are handling it remarkably well. Society does a great job of telling women that we aren’t deserving. Don’t make their job easier. Know that you are showing so much strength and courage, *especially* when crying and expressing emotion. And yes, positivity does seem to be fleeting, but you’ve always had joie de vivre; for each time you lose your motivation over something seemingly small like an eyelash, an equally precious moment will restore it. You got this.
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I don’t know who you are – but thank you.
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Dear Casey, women need to stick together. I agree with your take on calling each other derogatory names. ‘Bitch’ is one that I particularly hate. It’s hard to be a woman. So much is expected from us and unfortunately it all seems to be superficial. And it is painful to have one of our own turn on us by name calling or letting society objectify us. But enough about that. Casey, there is something within you that cancer will not touch. Your spirit. Your courage. Your humor. Your love. Your dreams. Fuck cancer and fuck society telling us what’s beautiful and what’s now. Too me, you are the most beautiful person in the room.
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Casey, it’s DebbieMillerfromflorida. Last night you were the chosen topic for a while. It started out as answers to the “How is Casey and her family doing?”, and turned into the strength you haven’t even discovered you have. I want you to know that we, your audience, your fans, your friends and family see in you what will get you through this hobble journey. We see your strength, your humor, your love and compassion for others. We see your imagination, your vulnerability, your tenderness, and your joy for life. We see your commitment to move forward with smiles or with tears…..just to keep moving forward.
July can’t get here fast enough, but for now…….keep writing! We, your South Florida family, love you!!!
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Life is rarely like movies; there’s not some turning point of positivity and then it’s all good afterward. You can feel amazing and hopeful one moment and then lost and scared the next. The important thing is knowing that while the positivity isn’t forever, neither is the sadness, and you’re allowed to feel upset, even if you think you don’t deserve to because you have a good support system, or because you were feeling fine just a moment before. There’s no perfect way to deal with having cancer, but (just my two cents) if there were, you’d be remarkably close to it. You’re funny, and you’re trying to stay positive, and you’re expressing gratitude for the things that aren’t shitty even when so much is. You’re a kickass lady, whether you’re doing yoga or defending feminist ideals or sobbing uncontrollably and lying in bed. Thank you so much for sharing.
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You don’t know me and I probably won’t offer you any sage words of wisdom that will solve your life problems, but I figured someone with your strength and courage deserves all the support in the world. You see, the funny thing I’ve learned about strength is that there’s strength in not being strong all the time. Those moments that you break down and let yourself cry? That’s strength. The days you sleep a little longer when your body tells you that you need it? That’s strength. Strength is the ability to be vulnerable sometimes. Sharing your innermost thoughts in this blog is the very definition of finding strength in vulnerability. When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we are acknowledging that we are not made of stone, nor should we be. We allow ourselves to be what we actually are– human. As for self-love, I don’t think any person truly stops being self-conscious. That’s the stigma that needs to disappear– that some of us walk through life with the secrets of the world in our back pocket. I love myself, and I still feel self-conscious at times when I look in the mirror. I urge you, however, to not feel fake or like a lesser person for choosing to wear a wig or a hat or whatever you choose at anytime in your life. Those are choices for your comfort, but I hope you can also see that you are beautiful and radiant without them. Every time you get up in the morning and tackle the day ahead of you, you show your inner beauty. Your beauty is in your smile, your laugh, the way you converse with others, and so much more. Life can take away your hair, but it cannot take away your ability to maintain a smile unless you let it. That is truly the most elegant and challenging form of beauty to keep. I mean, when I think of the person I want to be in life, I tell myself I want to be the girl who walks into a room and leaves the people around me feeling a little brighter. I want to have happiness that is so contagious that everywhere I go I see peoples’ days brighten. Judging from this blog, I would say you’re extremely capable of doing that for people. I am a firm believer that life only deals you a stack of cards you’re capable of playing, whether you think you are or not. Don’t doubt yourself. Every single day you grow and change and become a better version of yourself. You become stronger, wiser, and more resilient. I also heard a story one time that really stuck with me. I heard it from a friend who told me that mentally, we stop ourselves at 40% and say, “I can’t take anymore”. Only 40%. So what does that mean for us? If we can get past those thoughts in our head saying we can’t do it or we aren’t capable of handling it, then we still have 60% of our body’s strength left in us! That’s more than enough to get through any bad day. Besides, if you really think about it, your track record for making it through bad days in your life is 100% so far. You can make it through another bad day in order to get to that good day. You’ve done it before and you will do it again. Keep strong, stay truly beautiful with your smile, and don’t be afraid of the bad days, you’ll make it through. Many thoughts of love and blessings. -KW, Tampa, FL
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Whoever you are – thank you.
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