One step at a time

Maybe I should play the Lottery. I dropped my iPhone in the bathtub yesterday and after I finished panicking and managed to fish it out of the water, I realized that it still worked just fine. The speakers weren't working but that was nothing that couldn't be fixed by wearing headphones. And then this morning I woke up with a fully functional phone. Speakers and all!

What are the odds?

I've been taking way too many baths. Since my father-in-law brought me gourmet soaps and my aunt gave me a heavenly muscle soak, and since I'm already constantly freezing, I take at last four baths a day. Really hot baths.

Since my TSH levels were so damn high as of last Monday, my doctor put me on the fast track to getting them from a 15.34 down to a 2.5 or less by doubling my Armour levels from one grain to two grains. So I've been feeling pretty lousy, as usual, but it's a different lousy. I'm still overly fatigued and pretty much bed(couch)-ridden but now I'm absolutely freezing on top of that. I cannot warm up no matter how many layers I've got on or how many baths I take or how many blankets I'm under. Last night as we watched Dexter on the couch Sean tucked me under my fuzzy bathroom, in a sleeping bag, under a fuzzy blanket, and then he laid his legs on top of mine and I was shaking I was so cold. This will be a huge benefit to me come summertime on those tropical 80&deg days. I'm constantly on the THYCA forums and "cold" is a pretty common symptom oddly enough so I'll just be glad that it isn't anything worse. Cold, I can handle.

Little Miss Katie Rhea has been trying to walk since yesterday. She's so cautious, unlike her big brother who was plowing through everything at 11 months and climbing up the ladder of our swing set not long after. She has the muscles to walk but not the confidence. You should see how proud she was last night as she kept taking one step and then another step before sitting herself down. Katie does things at Katie's pace.

Here she is taking one small step for mankind, one giant leap for a baby:


Pardon the boys playing football in the background. She's been taking more steps than that but I haven't been able to catch it on video, mostly because I'm busy helping her to not topple over.

Joy and Sorrow

Katie learned how to clap! As impressing as clapping is for a baby, I'm more excited that she is starting to understand us. She recognizes the word "clap" and sometimes says "Aaaaaaaaaay" after I gleefully exclaim, "Yay, Katie!"



Dylan didn't get to go to school again today because of this damn flu bug he's still fighting. His fever is down to a 99.5 but now he's got a ridiculous cough. He needed another rest day to fully shake this thing. Kate is still hanging on with no fever and a clear runny nose.

In good news, I saw my endocrinologist yesterday to figure out why my legs have stopped working this month and we determined that since my thyroglobulin are still at < 0.2 my cancer is most likely not spreading.  I like to hear that.

As far as my month of weakness, the doc isn't sure.  He tested my levels again and said that some people do great on a 0.03, some don't.  My levels should be 0.1 to 2 as a cancer patient because the higher my TSH the more likely the cancer cells will grow, so low is good.  However, 0.03 might be too low for my body.

Whatever the case I still very much like my doctor and I feel confident that he will take good care of me.  I like that he is thorough.  Two thyroid panels in two weeks.  My kind of doctor.  In the meantime I'm staying on my 150mcg of synthroid and taking it easy.  I feel better this week than I did the last two and I think maybe I'm on the up and up.  Let's see what my levels are in a few days and maybe we can find a happy thyroid balance.

*

Today is the twelfth anniversary of September 11. Those of us who are old enough to remember will never forget where we were that day as we watched those planes fly into the towers. I was working in the music library in college when another student came in and told us about the first plane. All of my classes were cancelled, except for choir. It was our first day of concert choir rehearsal and our esteemed conductor walked into that practice room with a cell phone in hand. He was waiting to hear from his daughter who worked in the trade centers. He handed us an 80-paged copy of Mozart's Requiem and told us that we were going to perform this that weekend.




That whole week is a blur to me now. The concerts we performed around the state to show our support and respect are a vague memory. But whenever I hear Mozart's Requiem I am brought back to that place, watching those towers fall and feeling in my soul the aftermath of so much suffering.

The morning of my RAI treatment

(Photo by Sean)

Surrogate

I saw a story about a baby gorilla named Gladys this week. Gladys' mum wanted nothing to do with her when she was born so Gladys' human caregivers took over mothering her in order to save her life. They wear a furry gorilla vest, carry her on their backs, grunt, groom, and feed little Gladys. Baby Gladys is thriving and will hopefully be adopted by another female gorilla when she is older.

Unorthodox? Yes. Crucial? Absolutely.

The story was heartwarming and a bit comical with images of a grown man in a monkey vest loving up on this little gorilla.

Gladys reminds me of Katie.

My natural instinct is to breastfeed my babies, to cosleep and coddle and meet their needs before they know they are in need. Dylan refused pacifiers but found comfort in nursing and so nursed around the clock. Aside from the first two weeks of cringing through painful nipples I adored breastfeeding and was devastated when I made the decision to wean him at eighteen months old. He wasn't grasping the concept of solid food and we wanted to start trying for a second child and however heartbreaking weaning was for both of us, it was time. I took solace in knowing that I would be able to nurse Dylan's sibling.

But then I was diagnosed with cancer and told I would have less than a month to breastfeed my baby before needing aggressive treatment.

Hearing the doctor tell me that the lump was cancerous was hard but having him say I could not provide for my child was worse.

[straps on gorilla suit]

So I had to find alternative methods of caring for Kate. Her kitten Wubanub pacifier is a great solution because she can fulfill her desire to suck while feeling comforted holding her stuffed animal.

Last night as we cuddled on the couch she reached for my breast, looking up at me with a puzzled look on her face as if to ask me why she was no longer allowed to feed here. She remembers.

Today I sewed one of her pacifiers to her new beanbag bunny and she spent most of the afternoon clutching it close.

I cannot care for Kate with my body now but I can provide her nourishment and comfort. Coming to this realization that she will thrive without nursing took some time, but Kate--and Gladys--will simply do things a little differently. But no matter how they find comfort the important thing is that they feel loved.

the cancer blues

You're supposed to be depressed after you have a baby, or so I hear, and I am finding myself in that boat these days although my postpartum blues have little to do with giving birth. This little newborn girl is amazing. I am beyond the skies in love with her and so grateful to be her mama. I crave her next to me and yet I am happy to leave her at home with Daddy while I take her big brother out on a mommy and me date. I feel emotionally stable times ten with her, mentally healthy, happy.

Emotionally I am fantastic, baby wise. Yet I have this nagging sorrow in knowing that I have to leave my babies in six weeks for my week-long radioiodine therapy. Isolation. In a room alone, sporadically frequented by nurses in hazmat suits. A whole week away from them. I've known about this treatment since the "c" word was first mentioned in October. I know I have no choice but to go through with the therapy.

I feel so much loss over this impending schedule. I can't breastfeed Kathleen for more than a few weeks. And I know--I know--that moms formula feed their infants all the time and even chose it over breastfeeding, even I was a formula baby. If I had a choice who knows if I would chose to formula feed her in a few weeks anyway or if my supply would suddenly diminish and I would opt to supplement my milk and in the end turn to formula. But I don't have a choice.

I haven't allowed myself to think past the treatment and enter into the what ifs of cancer: what if it spread, what if I die? We'll cross that bridge when we get there.

For now, for the next six weeks, I will cherish every second with my babies and maybe they will fill up their Mama banks and feel just a tad bit less longing for me when I'm away.