Amy's Health Blog

First Week of Kindergarten

Amy — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 01:13:22 +0000

September 7th — Last week I took a friend’s suggestion and asked my six-year-old who had gotten in trouble at school that day to begin conversation.
Daniel immediately said, “Charlie, he gets in trouble every day, in fact he even got sent to the principal’s office one day!”
I said, “really? Why did he get sent to the principal?”
Daniel answered, “he hit someone.”
“He hit someone! Who did he hit?”
“Me.”
“Daniel! Charlie hit you? Where?”
“In the classroom.”
“I meant, where on your body?”
“Oh, on my face,” pointing to his left cheek.
“When did this happen?”
“Not the first day of school, not the second day of school, not the third day of school, the fourth day of school.”
“Were you hurt? I didn’t know you had gotten hit. Why did he hit you?”
“No, I wasn’t hurt. Charlie wanted something at one of the centers that I had.”
“Oh. Well I’m glad Mrs. Huang sent him to the principal if he hits kids in class.”
“Mommy, I don’t think I like Charlie.”
Everything I needed to know about life I learned in Kindergarten.

Join the Club

Amy — Mon, 06 Sep 2010 15:35:34 +0000

September 6th — This weekend I found out a friend was just diagnosed with breast cancer. All the panic and anxiety of my own diagnosis came back to me and my heart went out to my friend and her family coping with the news. She is strong and resilient and wonderful. I need to remember to tell her every time I talk to her the phrase I wanted to hear every day when I was in the middle of my cancer battle, “it’s all going to be okay.” It’s all going to be okay.

Toad Excitement

Amy — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 13:28:49 +0000

September 1st — Last night, Sara was doing her homework at the dining room table while absentmindedly poking at the dirt in a potted plant on the table. A live toad jumped out of the soil! Sara screamed in shock as Mr. Toad disappeared under the sofa. That potted plant had been outside to be watered so Mr. Toad must have hitched a ride inside. We got the flashlights out, moved furniture, got long sticks to poke under armchairs but there was no sign of the toad. I worried all last night that our cats would find him in the middle of the night or the toad would stay in our house and starve to death (although we do get a fair number of flies in the house from all the doors left opened by children running in and out). This morning, Mr. Toad was sitting in our living room waiting for Sara to pick him up and return him to the great outdoors. With all the tadpoles we’ve nurtured and released over the last two years, it’s not a surprise that we have adult toads. This weekend is when turtle eggs are supposed to hatch if our courtyard turtles have gotten busy. We’ve seen some baby-making activity but no eggs and no baby turtles yet. All we need now are lizards and snakes and we’ll complete our reptile/amphibian wildlife sanctuary on Greenhill Place.

Scary hour in the air

Amy — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 01:02:27 +0000

August 29th — On Greg’s route from London to Bahrain today, the steward came up to him with about an hour left in the flight and said, “Mr. Valentine, British Airways has a message for you when we land.” His mind immediately raced to all the awful reasons someone would have contacted the airline while he was en route. Having experienced firsthand how tenuous and unpredictable life can be, Greg knew anything could have happened. He immediately checked his iPhone when it was safe to do, anticipating ten missed calls from me or another family member. When those didn’t appear, he calmed down a bit. It turns out BA lost his luggage. Inconvenient and annoying, but not as drastic as the various emergencies he imagined. It reminded me of the dermatologist I saw back in my bald chemo days. She told me, “I have bad news…” about not being able to remove a cyst from my back. I shuddered and thought, “don’t ever tell a cancer patient that you’re about to deliver more bad news!” Because, really, after having Stage 3 cancer, the only bad news I could hear would be a terminal prognosis. Everything else is manageable. British Airways, don’t warn a passenger whose wife had cancer that there is bad news waiting for him on the ground! Car accident, heart attack, childhood abduction, emergency room visit…lost luggage?

I could get addicted…

Amy — Thu, 26 Aug 2010 15:53:20 +0000

August 26th — Hmmm…I understand why people get addicted to pain pills. It’s not a big concern of mine because I frankly don’t like the out-of-control woozy feeling the medicine gives someone who doesn’t have a lot of actual pain to combat. However, I have been achy and stiff from the return to this week’s normal hyper activity of getting a lot of stuff done while the kids are in school 8-3. So I took half a pain pill and made an espresso latte today. Somehow the combination is doing it for me — I’m a bit woozy and wired at the same time! Ha ha! I’ve come a long way from a year ago when I was still getting expanded and was in the midst of my awful Taxol chemo. Today is Greg’s birthday so it’s easy to remember posting a year ago about getting expanded 3 more ounces as a “birthday” gift for my husband. And living through my steroid mania. And my random panic attacks when I would obsess on the fact that I might unwillingly abandon my children to grow up motherless. A year later, I’m three chapters into my blog-turned-book, crazy busy with Adventure Cook, and starting another business to make bras for breast cancer survivors because there really isn’t anything out there. I’m busy, productive, and enjoying every minute. I think I could get addicted to this…

I love Kindergarten

Amy — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 09:06:39 +0000

August 19th — Daniel begins Kindergarten next week! Just like when he graduated from preschool, I am excited and not teary about the big transition. One more year of memories because life is short and unpredictable. After having one child go through that first year of school milestones, I know exactly how much my baby is going to grow up in the next few weeks. I remember being shocked and surprised at the experiences that matured Sara. They had little to do with education. One day she left the cafeteria by a different door than the rest of her class and got “lost.” She proudly told me she found a grown-up and asked them where Mrs. Huang’s class was and everything was okay. I didn’t tell her that she’ll dream about that experience for the rest of her life in moments of anxiety! That, and not being able to open your high school locker and you’re already late for class. Or perhaps those are just my school days anxiety dreams. Tonight was the parent’s Open House to meet the teacher and learn about the classroom education and schedule. Thirty parents or so crowded into the Kindergarten class and sat on tiny little Alice in Wonderland chairs to listen to our child’s teacher. Daniel got Mrs. Huang! Sara had her and all year I wanted to go back to school and become a Kindergarten teacher because it was such a fun year. Of course, I hugged Lori Huang and knew several other parents who have older kids at Hill or live in our neighborhood. A friend whose daughter went to preschool with Daniel laughed that everyone knew me in the class just like at First Presbyterian. I told her, “when you’re bald all year at school, everyone knows you!” She’s a doctor and we have this “let’s mock cancer” thing going on. If it weren’t for Adventure Cook’s popularity and success, I might be tempted to become a Kindergarten teacher again!

Post Treatment Check-Up

Amy — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 13:59:25 +0000

August 15th — Friday Greg and I spent three hours at my oncologist’s office for a check up that could have lasted 20 minutes. It’s hard to get too grumpy about Dr. K running late because when it’s your turn, he sits down and talks to you and doesn’t make you feel rushed at all. In fact, Dr. K has a reputation of getting behind in his appointments but I had gotten spoiled to my early morning pre-chemo timeslots when he still was on time. The receptionist told us he was running late, and Greg and I went out to lunch and then came back and still had another 30 minutes or so of waiting. The good news is there’s not much to tell. I’m healthy, appear to be “no evidence of disease” (NED), and my labwork is good. When I asked him what to look for in signs of metastatic disease, Dr. K said it wouldn’t be subtle. I would feel puny and turn jaundiced due to liver problems or have serious pain. That’s actually comforting because I don’t have to worry about every twitch and twang. Dr. K is investigating the vaccine clinical trial I’m interested in to make sure it won’t do more harm than good although he was slightly pessimistic about the effectiveness of any breast cancer vaccine in general. He doesn’t want to see me for three more months. That’s great news. As much as I enjoy Dr. K’s company, not seeing him is preferable to my last 15 months of frequent visitation!

Time Flies

Amy — Thu, 12 Aug 2010 16:23:18 +0000

August 12th — Today, Sara woke up full of questions about middle school, because “it’s right around the corner.” She wanted to know if her school locker would be one where she could program the code because she wanted to make sure she remembered her locker code. When I reminded her that she was entering 3rd grade in the fall and had several years to learn how to use a combination lock, she immediately discounted 3rd grade and said there were really only two more years until she entered middle school and could get her ears pierced and ride the bus with best friend Pauline. What happened to third grade that it got ignored and how did fourth and fifth grades pass by so quickly? The other day at a restaurant, Sara was unusually grumpy. When an amused waiter asked if there was anything he could do, I reassured him Sara was mainly upset at life that she was not 13 yet and there was nothing anybody could do to help her out of that crisis. I don’t remember being that eager to grow up. But the past year has matured our kids more than most in some ways. In other areas, Sara and Daniel seem more emotionally vulnerable and needy than their peers. The final kicker to my conversation with my precocious 8-year-old was when she asked if she would have breasts by the time she entered middle school since a lot of 5th grade girls at Hill Elementary already have boobs. I told her that a lot of physical maturation has to do with family history: when did her mother go through puberty? I wouldn’t pass along anything to do with my cancerous breasts to my daughter if I could help it but has the damage already been done? What legacy have I unwittingly left to my children? I can’t begin the clinical trial for a breast cancer vaccine too soon after having that conversation. I remember my oncologist telling me it was good that I had a 6 year old daughter when I was diagnosed rather than a 16 or 26 year old because no telling what cures there might be in 20 years. Cure this damned disease before my children grow up!

Symbolic End

Amy — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 15:04:01 +0000

August 10th — Greg has worn his Lance Armstrong Livestrong band and a pink “end breast cancer” band nonstop since my surgery. I always take mine off for a shower or to sleep and forget to wear them on a consistent basis. Of course, I probably have seven or eight various breast cancer bracelets that folks have given me during the past year so have prettier choices than just the plastic bands. Yesterday, I saw Greg’s bands on an end table in the living room and was surprised he had taken them off. When I asked him, he said he felt that our trip to St. Lucia marked the end of my cancer fight. I would have made a big production or symbolic gesture out of taking them off. True to his no-nonsense, practical nature, Greg just took them off and set them down. It’s done. We’ve both been permanently marked by our experience with cancer. In essence, we’re still wearing our “fight cancer” bracelets. It’s just on the inside where you can’t see them.

What a Way to Celebrate Life!

Amy — Sun, 08 Aug 2010 22:29:38 +0000

August 8th — Greg and I spent seven days in heavenly St. Lucia at two fabulous resorts. The kids stayed with grandparents so Greg and I could join the honeymooners and anniversary couples at the luxury Caribbean resorts. I had forgotten how easy and fun it is to meet people on vacation, and we did have an interesting tale since we were celebrating the end of my cancer chemotherapy. It’s a sad reality that almost everyone you meet has been touched by cancer. One newlywed husband’s stepmom had survived breast cancer, one woman had a strong family history and tested positive for the BRAC gene even though she hasn’t had cancer, and our taxi driver’s ex-wife was a current chemo patient due to colon cancer. My favorite toast these days is “to health and long life,” because I won’t take those for granted after this past year. The first resort (www.ladera.com) was an open-air, three-walled room with two pools and the Caribbean’s best restaurant. I have to mention that for future reference, if one stays in a room with a pool and one has too much to drink and one tries to find the bathroom in the dark, one might fall into the aforementioned pool. The stars are fabulous for a ceiling but don’t offer much light. I told a friend about my mishap and she immediately wrote, “isn’t this the resort with only three walls on a cliff on a mountain? Be careful!” When Greg and I laughed about the incident the next day, we realized that could have had dire results if I had hit my head and drowned. True to our dark sense of humor about my cancer, I said, “well there would be a bright side to that tragic end: at least I wouldn’t have died from breast cancer!” After surviving the challenges of fruity rum drinks and in-room pools, we moved to the northern tip of St. Lucia to a huge villa. We had no idea we were getting a full house at this resort! Complete with its own infinity pool and secluded beach. Greg and I snorkeled almost every day on the vacation since the reefs were so beautiful. We saw schools of squid, an octopus, about 50 species of beautiful fish and numerous crabs, sea anemones and sea urchins. For someone who doesn’t like to put her head underwater, I became a veritable mermaid. I read four books on the trip, sailed a hobi cat and ate more fruit and fish than I have in a long time. It was an absolute wonderful way to celebrate the end of chemo and celebrate life. St. Lucia is the most beautiful of the Caribbean islands I’ve been fortunate to see so I encourage everyone to go. Of course, I can quote another friend of mine who saw our photos and said, “well, it’s okay, if you like tropical paradise…”