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A funny thing about cancer...

Let me start by saying: HEY! HI! and to give you a little forewarning. I've been hesitant about writing a blog. First I was like, YES, absolutely, then I reconsidered, and then rethought my reconsideration regarding my concerns and so on and until now, and I am here. This blog is mostly for me to process this ordeal, and possibly to give some of my family members' ears a rest. I hope it will keep all those who have been reaching out to me and want to know how I'm doing a way to hear about it as often as they like.

So, again, about that forewarning. I will be writing this as if you were my mom, brother, dad, boyfriend, best friend, cousin, old high school BFF forever, etc. If you and I are not that close, and you start feeling a little uncomfortable about my candidness, please, do not worry! In my mind you and I are that close. That's one of the funny things about cancer. It has almost completely removed my filter between stranger and friend (a filter that was never really good at its job anyway). This in itself has created many moments of awkwardness and laughter, so I hope you enjoy!

Simon always seems to personify awkward, so he fits well here. (Dad's cat)

So, about why I am writing: I have stage three brain cancer. Let's be real here, I have a LOT to say about that. I went from seizures to surgery to cancer diagnosis in less than two weeks. It was a whirlwind that swept me up and caused me to focus on the "Well, that's one less thing to worry about" chant. It's become a mantra for my family.

That's a funny thing about cancer, it is literally changing my mindset. If it succeeds in doing so, hats off to you brain tumor, you are a force to be reckoned with! Pre-cancer, I was your prototypical Type-A person. I am also what Myers Briggs Type Indicator calls a "Judger" aka, I make plans to make plans. For example, I  have been pestering my 24 year old boyfriend Jason since last summer about what our retirement plans are going to be. Now, instead of constantly worrying about everything, I'm counting the areas in my life where there are less worries. This is long overdue and something I hope to continue, and part of why it will be important to document (here).

A little more about me, other than my neuroticism: I grew up in a small town in northwestern Michigan, right on the water of Lake Michigan, graduated from a public high school with a graduating class of 36 people. So when I say small town, I mean the kind of small town you see in the movies. We had no stoplights in my town. Nobody would steal my car in my town, because if they did, they would stop at the gas station and the guy at the pump next to him would be like, "Hey, you're so and so right? Why are you driving Danielle's car?" So I grew up never locking doors. This has been helpful more than harmful, as I have seen a lot of open doors in my lifetime. I went to and finished at the University of Michigan in 2006 with a bachelor's in psychology, and went to the University of Central Arkansas to get my masters degree in college services and administration and finished in 2008. I've been working full time as a residence hall director at the University of Albany for almost three full years now. I work with the freshmen, as an on-call person for crisis, and during the day I help them transition to college, meet with them for disciplinary stuff, do lots of meetings in general, and supervise the Resident Assistants. Resident Assistants are unique creatures. They are my fantastic student-leaders who help the freshmen make Albany their home, as well as provide peer-support and guidance (a job I did at Michigan when I was a student). So I consider myself to be pretty much a "dorm mom" for about 400 students, it's a very busy lifestyle, but I love it because of the impact it has. I plant seeds in people every day, hoping those seeds bloom into more than just diplomas, but good judgment, skills, and passion for their field of study that spreads to the work-world. This past fall I applied for PhD programs in counseling (just to see if I'm even a viable candidate for such prestigious ventures), even got offered interviews as a continued part of that process, but things have changed a little bit now with cancer joining the party, so those plans are on hold pending my treatment.

So as for why I'm on the prayer lists all over the country, I'll start from the beginning. On December 7th I woke up from a dream smelling a burning smell that was like sweet-tarts being lit on fire, and I was afraid, I thought it had something to do with the dream. One week later, the students set of the fire alarm in our building at 5:30am, and as I was walking into the living room of my apartment to exit and get my students evacuated,  I smelled "the smell" again, which was distinctly different from the burnt popcorn that set off the alarm that I smelled a few moments later. On the 18th, I smelled it again while standing in the middle of our main office, preparing to close the buildings, and it was accompanied by the sensation of standing up too fast, light-headedness, dizzy. On the 20th, this "episode" thing with the smell happened 6 times in one day, and I was downstate Michigan near Ann Arbor, visiting my best friend from college on my way up home for the holidays. I called my dad all panicked about this, it was happening in Kohls, in a restaurant, in the guest room at my friend's house.

While I was home over the holidays every time an episode happened, my father, a doctor, or my step-mom, a nurse, was checking me when I reported the "smell." My dad suspected seizures, spoke with a local neurologist, and my symptoms were enough that he ask that I come in that day. So I did, and he checked me over and I looked good, but he put me on some medicine. This was because I would be driving from home back to Albany. He didn't want me to be having an episode in the car, the type of seizure he suspected was not the kind we see on the movies, no twitching, no loss of consciousness, etc, but what I was experiencing had the possibility to "progress" to that if I was unmedicated, so I started my medicine and drove back to Albany with an appointment with my primary care doctor set up.

I went back to work on January 10th, On January 12th I met with my primary care doctor, who referred me to a neurologist in Albany, and also set me up with an EEG and a MRI. On Thursday January 13th, I met with the neurologist in the morning, and that afternoon I had both tests. On Friday January 14th, at 10am, I received a call from my primary care doctor, that I had a very large mass in my brain, and I was going to need to meet with a neurosurgeon immediately and have a biopsy either that day or monday. I called my Dad, and he and my stepmom came out immediately. I met with the neurosurgeon on Tuesday January 18th, and he was concerned, it was very large, so I had brain surgery on January 19th. My dad flew my mom out for it, and my step-brother drove up from Baltimore with his wife and son. I have an aunt who lives 30 minutes from me here in Albany, she was there too. My five-year boyfriend, Jason, who I met while at university of michigan, who lives with me here in Albany and works as a breast cancer researcher, he of course has been with me every step.

I was out of the hospital in 3 days. I was lucky, the mass is located in my right temporal lobe and in my right frontal lobe as well. It was about the size of an egg. They were able to remove 70% of it, they had to leave part of it behind because: one, part of it is wrapped around the artery that supplies blood to the right side of my brain. Two, part of it is located in my basal ganglia, which if they disturbed it, I would have had a stroke and lost function of the left side of my body, and possibly lost my speech and some memory. I came out of the surgery with no deficits, I have my memories, I can walk, talk, I am still me. We were so amazed and thankful, I was so lucky considering the size of this thing. I should have been having way worse symptoms than I was, I could have been in the hospital for weeks, but instead I was everyone's favorite patient cracking jokes, getting the nurses aids to sneak me chocolate milk for taking my meds, and just doing really well. Well enough to come home to my aunt's house and be doted on for the first time in years. Up until now, I have made a lifestyle out of working so hard, 60, 70, 80 hour work weeks if left to my own devices. It has been a tough adjustment, I like to care for others so much that I have gotten a dose of my own medicine in letting others care for me.

Originally, although my surgeon was concerned about the size, the lack of swelling that my brain had in reaction to the mass led him to believe my brain buddy was non-cancerous. On the 27th, we got the call about the results of the biopsy, that I have stage 3 brain cancer. This was a tough day, as we had been in such high spirits since the surgery. I was recovering so well, my mom was staying with me at my aunts house and we were getting some really good family time and talking about me returning to work soon. God was there for me that day though. I called my boyfriend at work and told him the news, his boss made him leave to be with me, and he just happened to bring with him a card that my staff had made me. They all have this way of making comments, and their individual personalities (WE HAVE A LOT OF PERSONALITY ON INDIAN QUAD!!) shone through their little well-wishes towards me. It was the most I had laughed in days, and was the most excellent medicine to coping with terrible news. I will never forget that. I used to have nightmares about not being there for them, that crisis was happening and I wasn't getting there in time to help my student staff members handle the situation. Now, I have the memory of facing my crisis and them being there in perfect timing for me. Silly ego, they had it all along. One less thing to worry about.

So, feeling like this is a given with most people knowing my temperament, I opted for the most aggressive treatment possible. I am taking 45 days of chemotherapy and 33 daily radiation treatments. We are fighting this like it is stage four cancer, and I can handle that specifically because I have been doing so well, and am so young and have a future worth fighting for as hard as I can. After my treatment finishes, which will be around the first of April. I will get a month off, and then we will do all the scans and tests to see how I did.

If I respond well to treatment, the tumor will have stopped growing, or, possibly shrunk. I will have to be scanned every 2 months to keep an eye on it, I continue my chemo on a monthly cycle basis instead of every day, and will most likely have another 2-5 years before it starts to become a threat again. It will likely return as a stage four, and I will be in for a harder fight, more chemo, more treatment.

If I do not respond to treatment, and it continues to grow, I will have somewhere between 18-24 months to accomplish whatever I would like to do before it will be my time.

So, with this particular cancer and it's location, remission is not at all expected by my doctors, it would be a miracle. So, I go in knowing what to expect and hoping for God to work within me. Remission has happened to some. Which leads me to a quote that I am about to slaughter "The difference between the possible and impossible is belief"

Also, I'm super skeptical of timelines.  There is some research out there that indicates that people who are given them live to them, so as much as numbers are comforting to some, they are not absolutely necessary for me. Not with cancer. Yes, I need a timeline for my retirement plans with my boyfriend, but cancer prognosis, naaaaaaaah, that's just silly. 

That's a funny thing about cancer. It reveals the inherent paradox in wanting to embrace the begrudging reality in order to walk into a fight prepared and well-informed, and yet inspires belief and hope beyond measure.

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