A Heart, a Mole, and a Limerick

It’s been a sort of eventful (and yet not) couple of weeks. There have been a couple scares, some new side effects, a milestone, some experimentation, and a minor epiphany.

Tasting and Smelling

First, I haven’t quite figured out how to deal with the nausea. It’s much worse this round, but as before, I’m not actually vomiting…I’m just nauseous all the time. Maybe weed would help, but I’m not willing to trade barfy for high at this point. If I were face-down in the toilet I’m sure that option would be more attractive.

Still, it’s very odd. It feels sort of like a mixture of pregnant and hungover. The constant low-level nausea is just there…ever-present like a tiny fetus in my gut. It’s accompanied by an excruciatingly sensitive nose. I can smell everything in exquisite detail and most of it makes me want to yak. And when I say I can smell everything I mean it. I can smell morning breath from across the room. I can smell YOU right now, reading this. I can detect whiffs of the soap you used this morning and the mint you ate after lunch.

Paradoxically, my sense of taste is completely whackadoo. One evening last week I got a sudden and very strong craving for pizza. Specifically, Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza. Thinking I was turning the corner on my nausea/chemical taste issues, I ordered one for delivery (sans sauce because tomatoes give me heartburn now). I opened wide and took what was meant to be a nearly orgasmic bite. And tasted…nothing. Nada. I haven’t been that disappointed since Santa failed to deliver Crime Lab back in 1970-whatever.

But then there are good surprises as well. Cantaloupe, for instance, which is one of my favorite things to put in my mouth. Cantaloupe has to be just right. The flavor is so subtle that if you have a slight cold you won’t be able to taste it. Or if it’s not quite ripe. I got some cantaloupe the other day with the thought that it probably wouldn’t taste good, but what the hell. I took the first bite and was overwhelmed with sweet flavor. It was the highlight of my day. It was THAT good.

Mole Hunt

Here’s something that wasn’t good. My youngest, Allison, is blonde. We’re not sure why or how, because everyone else in the family is dark. Some family members were blonde as very small children, but grew out of it. It remains to be seen if Allie will keep her yellow hair or not. My point is that I don’t know what to do with a blonde head and have always been super wary of the sun. Those corn silk locks don’t seem to offer any protection and so I’m hardcore about making her wear a hat in the summer. A couple of years ago I found a large-ish (relative to her four-year-old noggin) mole near her ear and have kept a close watch on it. Last Wednesday while washing her hair I saw what I’ve been dreading: the mole has changed. Where it was once uniform in color and perfectly round, it has suddenly shown all the signs of a potential melanoma.

Basically, my baby’s mole flunked the ABCDE test. Herewith:

• A – Asymmetry (lopsided is bad)
• B – Borders (blurry, uneven is bad)
• C – Color (different shades are bad)
• D – Diameter (larger than a pencil eraser is bad)
• E – Evolving (change is bad)

So, Gunny and I resolved to take her to the pediatrician ASAP and put her to bed. Then I opened the freezer to get a popsicle and burst into tears. Those heaving, silent “Don’t mind me, I’m breaking down” sobs. Because cancer can take me, but it better not lay one turdy tendril on my child. Because I will burn this world down.

The pediatrician agreed the mole is “suspicious,” and has referred us to a dermatologist at Seattle Children’s Hospital. Once Tricare approves it, I’m hoping to make the appointment for a Tuesday. Just in case we run into Seahawks quarterback Russell Wilson on his weekly trip to visit sick kids. You gotta find the upside wherever you can.

Side Effects

In honor of some fun new side effects I have composed this limerick:

There once was a lady named Trix
Who found herself in quite a fix
Her gums were receding
Her ass, it was bleeding
And she still has four rounds left of six!

Also, my nose is running in what is lovingly called the “Herceptin drip.” Yaaaaaaaay.

My Heart

In my last post I mentioned that I’d been having some shortness of breath. The next day it concerned me enough to call Dr. Cap’s office. He had me come in and Gunny and I spent two hours there. First, I had two panic attacks before I even saw the doctor. I haven’t had one since, well, I guess since I met Gunny seven years ago, but I used to have them fairly often and once severe enough to land in the ER where the nurses nodded knowingly when I told them I worked at Microsoft. “Oh, we see Microsoft people all the time for this.” Anyway my heart rate was too high for Dr. Cap and he sent me to the lab for a blood draw to check my iron. My iron was fine but my postassium was low. He decided that we’d check on my heart a little sooner than planned so this Monday I had another echocardiogram which was absolutely fine. So my heart is in good shape and I don’t know what the shortness of breath was about and haven’t experienced it since.

My Hair

What about your bald head, Christa? Oh, I’m glad you asked. So here’s something I didn’t expect: my head gets a little bit stubbly every few days. But only in patches. So if I hadn’t shaved my head I would still have hair, but I would also have bald patches, which I think we can all agree would not look very cool.

I’ve decided I like the idea of wigs more than I enjoy wearing them. So I’ve been going naked-headed most of the time inside the house and rocking some hats out and about. These are the two I like best:

And now for the good news. At long last, after more than three months, I’ve started working on my novel again! The second Mike Malick mystery You Go To My Head is back on track. I’m not promising a release date yet, but at least the wheels are back in motion. It feels really good to be creating something again.

An Epiphany

That’s sort of my takeaway from the whole cancer experience thus far: being grateful for the small things. The kindness of a friend. A sunny day. The flavor of ripe melon. I’ve discovered that Death doesn’t have to come very close at all to make Life taste very sweet.