It is more important to know where you are going, than how long it takes to get there.

Sunday, January 2, 2011


Looking back on last year, my memory is like Swiss cheese, full of holes. Some holes are deeper than others. Over Christmas holiday my mom saw my neighbor walking his dog, and said how nice it was of him to come see me when I got home from the hospital after surgery. I have absolutely no recollection of him coming by, or me having a conversation with him. I was also reminded of Wild Kingdom and her daughter stopping by shortly after returning from surgery, and I flashed them all my scars. Yikes! I do not remember them coming by at all, and certainly I do not remember flashing them all my surgery sites. I do not even have the slightest recollection of these two visits. All I can remember after my surgery is the cast of characters I had as roommates, the drains, logging all my medications, and spending a lot of time in bed...I think.

I am glad that I wrote down the events of last year, because there is no way I could remember all the tests, procedures and decors. Tomorrow I am having another day surgery to have my port a cath removed. I cannot remember if I had local anesthesia or if I was put out completely. I am fairly certain that I was put out completely because I vaguely remember waking up. I do remember the doctor pushing down hard by my collar bone while inserting the port a cath...kind of like stuffing a turkey. If I remember him stuffing me with the port a cath, then maybe I wasn't completely out. However, I do clearly remember getting very ill from the anesthesia. My oncologist sent me an e-mail with the name of the anesthesia, Versed and Fentanyl. I am going to bring in a copy of the e-mail and ask if I could receive a different type of anesthesia that might not make me so sick.

After the port is removed I will no longer be able to show it off and gross out friends and family. It is visible under the skin as a big bump with some texture. I always ask the viewer if he/she would like to feel it. Most people touch it and then squirm. It has been kind of fun being a freak show.

When your mind if foggy during or after chemotherapy it is called "chemo brain." My chemotherapy stopped in August, but I still feel like I am in a fog. Often I have a difficult time saying a name or word that I know very well. I can see it -I know it - but I can't immediately retrieve it. I have difficulties finishing a sentence because a word fell into a hole. I forget what I was doing or why I walked into a room. You are probably saying, "I do the same thing." Before cancer I did all these goofy things, but now I experience them much too often. I get very frustrated and sometimes a little frightened. I think my brain has a chronic case of hiccups.

Whacky thought for the day...
If you can't remember what you can't remember, how do you know you can't remember?

Happy New Year!


  1. Happy New Year!!! Here's to a bright new one, "NEW BEGINNINGS!" You've got a FULL life ahead of you, so enjoy the kids, friends and family.
    So glad you shared all that you did.. read my blog and see what is up with me..

  2. Keval, I had no idea you were going through this until I received your Happy New Year card today. I looked up your blogspot and have sat here at my computer reading almost all of your posts and am in tears. I always knew you were a tough gal, but never realized how tough. You are a rock star. Cancer totally sucks (dad died a couple of years ago and my mom was just diagnosed) and I am so happy that you are beating it!!! I am sending big hugs to you and the fam. You will be in my thoughts and I will keep checking your blog to see how everything is going.....Rock on.
    Cindi Kennedy