Getting Wiggy With It + Vlog/Video

Follow my blog with Bloglovin It was hard to lose my hair. Very hard.

I think most people who go through chemo (or maybe more women) wait for the hair to begin to fall out before shaving it. I know some brave folks shave before it falls out and I applaud them for that, because it was something I could not do.

I still had hope buried deep inside that I might just be that one person who actually keeps their hair. My other fear was if I shaved it before it started to fall out it was going to make all of this cancer  stuff more of a reality. The truth was going to slap me and my family in the face. This is really happening; I really have cancer.

There would be no denying it when my bald head became exposed to the world.

I remember waking up the morning it started falling out and finding long strands on my pillow and freaking out. I thought it would take longer for my hair to fall out; it seemed like I had just started my first round of chemo.

I immediately called my sister.

"Britney, my hair is falling out. It's so bad," I cried. 

"Can you brush it to see how bad it is?" she asked.

I obliged and then looked that the hair-filled brush and started crying uncontrollably. 

"It's all coming out...there's so much, there's so much," I sobbed while I texted her a photo.

"I'm on my way," she said. 

This was something I couldn't handle well with anyone else besides my sister. I was still in the hospital so she had to come to me. I think because she has hair and is a woman she totally can empathize with losing my hair. She'd know what to do.

Once she finally got there, she looked at it and said, "I think we should cut it short first to make it easier for you to lose it. And if it continues to fall out this bad tomorrow, then we will shave it, but that way we aren't jumping to extremes.

So we did. We called a nearby hairdresser friend and we cut my hair short. Cameo, the hairdresser-friend, found bald spots on my head that I didn't even know I had, but she covered them up easily with the rest of the hair I had left.

We had a little photo session that night because we knew this was going to be the last time in long time that I'd have hair.

The next day I woke up and strands of now shorter blond hair were covering my clothes. It was raining hair and it was getting annoying. I knew that even though my short 'do' was "short-lived" I had to do it. I had to do it. I had to shave it all off.

But what would Brody say? What would he think? I knew it was very important for him to be there to watch Klay shave my head. Chad, my bro-in-law, shaved Klay's first and then Klay shaved mine.

It was an emotional experience. I tried not to cry. And I didn't. I don't think. I tried to be strong, because if I burst into tears, everyone else would.

Fortunately, it was winter so I had a lot of good hat options to keep my head covered until I was ready to let the world see what I really look like and going through.

It took me a while to want to just go anywhere bald and not care. For a while, I didn't even like the nurses to see. And they're oncology nurses so they are used to having bald patients.

I'll never forget when I walked in my first store with no hat on. I was shopping with my friend Lauren, and it had gotten a little warm for March so I took the hat off. It was too hot to be wearing a winter hat and I just kept it off... And to my surprise it was freeing for me and I was proud of myself.

Of course I get strange looks and stares and hear children whisper, "what's wrong with her? why doesn't she have hair?" And I just ignore them.

I don't look much at people when I'm shopping anymore cause I don't care what they are wearing or how they are dressed so I focus on the shopping part. And I get to ignore the stares that way.

But with the warmer Texas weather, and a few important events to attend in the future, I needed to purchase a wig.

So a couple of great friends, who are more like family, went for a brunch date, popsicle stop and wig shopping with this wig virgin.

It's a weird thing seeing hair on your head again after having no hair for seven months. I'm used to this version of me now--the no hair, no makeup Cass. I don't know if I want to fake it and wear a wig so I don't stand out. But I wanted to at least try some on. Plus I know my hair is going to through some of those funky stages (grow in funny or have bald spots) where I'll have to wear a hat or something to not look completely ridiculous.

So we started trying on wigs...

I honestly didn't know how I was going to feel about the wig-thing. I didn't know if I'd love them or hate them. I thought for sure I'd have fun trying some on and I did. But I didn't think there would be emotions involved. Not just for me but for those who came with me. But there were. I'm just glad I had some wonderful ladies there to support me and make the experience fun!

I know that's a good still-frame in the video below. #dontbejelly

Watch the video and then read the rest...

Klay does look good in that wig though! He looks like Sunshine from "Remember the Titans" lol. What a stud.

And that brown wig I got for free from a cancer resource center. Pretty cool!

Anyway, you guys remind me to keep my head up and keep moving forward. All of your comments, kind words, and just you letting me know that "you're thinking of me" really means a lot!

Thanks for all the support! Love y'all!

And sorry about the ugly-cry face. At least I'm not as bad as Kim K... just saying.

On Pause

I have so many "draft" posts saved in on my blog, it's ridic (p.s. some dictionary folks added that to the dictionary this week, now that's really ridic).

But honestly because I don't feel like computing (LOL) one day so I'll just think "I'll do it later," and the posts just add up.

OR  something else happens medically or to us in our household and I feel like I can never get my head above water to finish a full post for you guys.

Right now, emotionally I feel like I need some purpose--a hobby or a job. I know I can't get a job right now, but I need something to do. Everyone tells me "you need to write a book" and I'm like "about what?"

I just feel useless.

I have no talents--besides birthing cute children--and I know people read this blog, but I need to put time in it and I don't even know where to begin? How do I talk about all that's happened? And what's my angle? I'm sure there are plenty of "cancer books" out there that are probably great reads. But what makes mine different? What makes me and my story so unique?

I'm just struggling with that right now. What to do with my "life"--or right now my "cancer life"--cause it's totally different from normal life.

Will I ever get to a normal life again?

Although this blog gets a lot of attention, I wonder "is because of my sad, cancer story or is it because  I know how to write and they would read cancer or not."

It's hard when I wonder about my future--those "how is it going to end" moments. I need to live and fight for today but it's hard. I have my anxieties and everyone else's on my shoulders about all of this.

Every week is a constant "who is going to help Cass with the kids this week?" Mostly, Actually, ALWAYS it's my mom who stays with me and helps with the kids, but she needs a break.

And then when Klay goes to the Reserves one weekend a month that makes things even harder. Mom's watched the kids at my house with me all week and now she has to help out on the weekends. My sister came and stayed with me one day, all day, but she has kids too and a family she needs to take care of (and my nieces have been sick one week after the next).

The "who's doing what?" game is exhausting. "Who's taking Cass to the hospital? Who's watching the boys? Who's gonna stop and get more formula, more groceries?"

It stresses me out.

So beyond having my head wrapped around when and where and how I'm going to get to my appointments and who's watching the kids... I'm trying to figure out something to do for me.

Because all day, every day in this "cancer-life" I'm wondering about the future. I want to live a life beyond the "C" word. I'm tired of hearing about it and dealing with it.

And it hasn't even been a year yet.

I feel like my life is stagnant--never moving forward.

Sure people tell you, "you will beat this" all the time, but I just don't believe it when they say it. Why? I don't know. I want to. I just kind of look away at the ground and feel awkward. I guess the reason is because no one knows what's going to happen to me. But I have to just believe I will get better.

If I live everyday in fear of what could happen, I'm not really living.

I know this I have two beautiful boys and one handsome husband. And I love them so much.

But all I do is stay cooped up in the house with the kids, of course, and worry. The only time I get out of the house is to go to the doctor. Not exactly living the "good" life.

Ugh.

My life is on pause.
What about having a career?
Or doing something for myself?
I know I have to get better before I can ever think about doing something for me.

Maybe I should get back on my zoloft since I missed a few this weeks cause this post is bumming me out. #oops #depressionmeds

The good thing is, nothing has changed medically. I mean there were a few weeks where I fainted, and I was dizzy a lot and running into walls... I knew the walls were there but I was kind of like "get out of my way, wall" and it didn't move. I was some medicine that was really too much for my system and that's what they think contributed to that. It was pretty scary. I was very unbalanced, couldn't walk a straight line to save my life--not that I could even do that on a good day. My legs, though, they hate me for all of the bumps and falling and whatnot. #bruiseserrywhere

But other than that, I am 100% donor and there are no leukemia blasts in my system, which would mean the transplant is working and I'm cancer free (things could always change).

I'm just hoping it stays that way. I want to get better and be able to do things with my kids (outside of the house). I'm just living a life of fear. I'm scared if I eat the wrong thing, I'll get sick. If I'm around a sick person, I'll get sick. If I go to the store or touch anything in a store, I'll get sick. I don't want to feel like that any more. I just want to live.

One positive note--Orange is the New Black is already on Netflix. I'll binge watch that in two days and then be bored again. LOL.

Today, I'm at the hospital supposed to see the doctor. I found out I have to do these hour-long breathing treatments once a month for a year. And it tastes like shit. FML.

Here's a sneak peek at my next blog--wig shopping or robbing a bank?

Cheers to wearing a small condom on your head,

Nothing Is Ever Smooth

I guess life wouldn't be life if it weren't full of bumpy roads, ups and downs and the unexpected. About a year ago I wrote a post called "The Unexpected" where I announced I was pregnant for the second time.

Now here we are a year later and my baby is six months old (born prematurely at 30 weeks) after discovering I had leukemia while pregnant--talk about unexpected...

I guess I can try to bob-and-weave all life's punches and jabs, but eventually, life is going to strike and it's probably going to be really amazing or really suck when it does. Unfortunately, mine was the latter.

So let's bring this post back to where it should be...nothing is ever smooth in my world. At least not for the past year.

My last post ended with me hoping that I'd leave the hospital that Saturday (after going to check my bloodwork and liver levels), but instead I was admitted; it was only for one night, but it still sucked.

The kids were with my in-laws because Klay was working his scheduled Reserve weekend, so my sister came and took me to the doctor that day. And I was looking forward to some down time to recover from my bone marrow biopsy the day before.

And remember, I can't change I diaper (or I'm not supposed to) so someone has to keep the boys or be here with me all the time.

I did get out of the hospital that Sunday, but I had to go all the way back to Dallas Monday morning to recheck my levels. I stayed at the doctor all day (getting fluids and what not), plus I had a rough Sunday night (no sleep!) getting up and down for stomach probs. #ewww #ouch

So instead of the kids coming home Sunday, they went to my parents' house cause we had such an early appointment the next day and they aren't allowed at the doctor's office.

Anyway that Monday (which was last Monday), I felt like shit.

I could barely walk, my bum was hurting so bad from having to go to the bathroom so much, so I was weak. There were no fluids were left in me; I was dehydrated. The doc wanted to make sure I didn't have GVHD of the gut (which is super serious) so I spent the entire day up there getting meds, fluids and whatever else my body was low on (which was pretty much everything).

They let me go home Monday since I'd just gotten out of the hospital the day before and had an ultrasound on all my remaining organs (ahem, no more gallbladder) so everything looked OK, as long as I stopped going to the bathroom. But I had to go back again the next day so they could recheck my levels again.

On Tuesday, he frequent bathroom trips came to an end. But we still spent a bulk of the day there at the doctor office.

When we got home, we hadn't seen the kids in five days. So, I was beyond ready to be with the kids and even though I felt much better I was still really weak.

We got the kids home and we are playing with them when Bex starts to scream and cry.

Anyone who has been around Beckham hardly hears him cry unless he's hungry, but this was like an "I'm in pain, mommy!" kind of cry. Then we noticed he was chewing on his hands and he started running a low-grade fever (100.3).

I mean I just got my kids back for the first time in five days and my six-month-old is running his first fever and began a long four-hour stretch of nonstop crying.

Of course Klay is super worried if it's something besides teething that was hurting him because I could catch it. And because my immune system sucks, I'm super prone to catching anything and the chances of it being so bad where I need to be hospitalized or it being life-threatening is high.

And I'd just gotten out of the hospital four days ago...

So let's get this straight...the kids' first night back home:

• Bex runs his first fever
• I just gotten over a severe bout of... let's be honest and say the word--diarrhea
• I was just discharged from the hospital for high liver levels and DO NOT want to have to be admitted again for sickness
• Bex is screaming his little lungs out from pain
• I'm two weeks post-gallbladder surgery and not back to normal
• And since we switched back to AT&T U-Verse all of my recordings I missed while at the hospital didn't record because I haven't set them up yet #thankyouJesusforondemand

Not that the last thing matters, I just wanted to throw that out there.

But seriously LIFE, give me a break would you? 

My main concern of course is Bex. Sickness complicates and makes things extremely difficult in every household, but it in ours it's exceptionally tough. My mom has to come over Monday-Thursday and sometimes Friday to help me with my kids because I can't change diapers and I might feel bad or feel weak. She also watches my niece three days a week, with my kids, so that's two toddlers who fight a lot and one baby. She comes over not just so I can rest when I feel bad or make me lunch or dinner (sometimes, I need some more home cooked meals, mom! LOL. JK, kind of) but someone has to watch them so I can go to the doctor.

But no mom ever wants to see their child in pain or sick, including my mom or me, or any parent. But if it happens, I want to be there for them. I've felt helpless because I can't do anything to make it better for Bex, especially because Klay didn't want me touching him "just in case" it was something else besides his teeth.

Anyway, we finally get our little men to sleep and the next day everything is much better...

UNTIL

we notice some spots coming up on Bex's tummy. At first, I thought he had just scratched his tummy but by the next day it has started to spread. It was all over--legs, feet, arms, face. 

First thing I googled was hand, foot and mouth, but it didn't really sound like it. Then I thought maybe it was a teething rash, but those normally don't spread over the whole body. Of course I was hoping it was an allergic reaction to detergent or something like that, but nothing really made sense. 

Two days after his "bad night," he acted fine. He was drinking, eating, sleeping and being the happy boy he always is; most importantly, he had no fever.

He wasn't acting like anything was wrong. 

That Friday, we went back to my doctor. 

My amazing doctor has the most awesome and best assistant ever! I love my Katie!! Anyway, she gave me some news...

My liver numbers went down and are closer to normal! 

And the bone marrow results showed that I'm 100% donor and ZERO leukemia blasts!!! 

That was the best news I've heard in a long, long, long time! 

Now that doesn't mean I'm "cured." It means right now my donor's immune system is fighting mine and so far she's kicking mine's ass, which is great. But it can flip flop and change. It does happen, so I'm trying not to get too excited, but it means that the transplant is working and doing it's job.

So that was amazing news. Klay kept saying "look how happy she is!" talking to Katie. And he grinned from ear to ear and I could see how long it had been since I'd really shown that much happiness and I saw his face and how much me being happy affects his happiness. 

All three of us were thrilled. I needed that news and I think we all knew that after the past several weeks.

Then, we showed them a photo Bex's rash just to see what they'd say about it. My doc was afraid it could be viral and if it is, it could be deadly to me if I were to catch something like that. They warned me to stay away but to take Bex to the pediatrician Saturday morning to see what she says.

My mother-in-law was watching the kids at our house while we went to the doctor and so she ended up taking the boys to her house. Her and Klay took them both to the pediatrician on Saturday.

The result? Brody had started running a fever Friday night and showed spots on his belly too. Bex had some ulcers in his mouth. Conclusion: Hand, Foot and Mouth. 

FML.

So my kids had to go somewhere again, away from mommy and they are sick. There is nothing in the world that would make me ever want to have someone else take care of my children while they are sick. That's my responsibility. They are my babies and when they are sick, they should be with me. It kills me knowing that I'm not the one holding them and comforting them when they feel bad. That's part of being a parent and I can't fulfill my duties because even though I'm 100% donor, my immune system is marathoning it's way back to normal, which to be honest is more like a marathon with turtles trying to get to the finish line.

That was Friday. 

And I felt good earlier on Friday. I had gotten great news, but had to stay to get fluids. Then I took some meds that made me jittery and it made me like a crazy person, so they gave me some anxiety meds to calm me down. I was already only going off of three hours of sleep, and had some nausea med (known to make you sleepy) and I felt like I was gonna barf (not a good combo).

On the way home I fell asleep and then when we got to the house the kids were still there with my MIL. Looking and feeling like a zombie, I slowly made my way to the couch laid down and was out in minutes. I woke up and the kids were gone and it was 1 a.m. Then I took more meds and went back to sleep. 

EFFIN TIRED. 

Slept till like 10 a.m. 

Klay took a photo of me sleeping for y'all to see how "out" I was...

Ha I'm kidding. I'd kill him. OK. Maybe not kill him cause I kinda like the guy, but I'd smack him around a bit or maybe I'd just fart on him. Luckily he kinda likes me too, so he didn't take a photo.  

Now it's Memorial Day weekend and I'm away from my boys, AGAIN. I hate it. I'm supposed to stay away from the kids for five days after Saturday's doctor appointment.

Bro has ulcers in his mouth and so do I. Bex seems to be normal.

I just hope I get to see them soon. I miss them so much. It breaks my heart to feel like I'm not a mother to them. I'm not the one who changes the diapers, cares for them while they are sick, I'm nothing. I'm just called "mom," but I don't feel much like one any more. 

I just want to be with them. That's all I want--to be with them. I want to show them how much mommy cares about them. Instead it seems like I'm selfish cause I'm gone all the time and pulling daddy with me because I'm trying to get better. I'm not really pulling Klay, but it probably feels like that to Brody. And I hate that. I wish I could really make him understand. 

It's sad when he goes to his grandparents because he says "where's mommy? She need to get better?"

He automatically thinks I'm in the hospital. He built a "building" out of legos and said he built me a hospital so I wouldn't have to go.

I mean super sad face. 

And he wants to be home with us. He can say it to us now too. He verbalizes that to us and tells us "to pick him up" and that breaks my heart that we can't. I want him to be here. I want him here at home, but it's not a good idea for either of us. 

Beyond just shitty luck with sickness, hospitalizations, etc., someone side-swiped my new ride while Klay was driving on the highway. It was a hit and run and they sped off an exit before Klay could see anything. And then Klay hit a pothole and now has a knot in his truck tire, so we need to get that fixed too. 

It's one thing after the next, but honestly I don't even care about that stuff. When I found out, I was like "ehh whatever. It sucks. Yeah it was my car but whatever, it's a car." 

And that's how Klay felt the other night about his tire. "It's just something else. I'm used to it now," he said. 

I am too, babe. I am too. 

Plus having a life-threatening illness can put things in perspective for you. LOL. At least it has for us.

I was in bed with Klay last night and our feet were tangled and rubbing each other's and you know what I realized? The only thing that's ever smooth in this world are his feet and Beckham's bo bo. 

But seriously, he has the softest feet. Mine? They are like sand paper. And I thought, "I feel bad for him, I know my rough-ass feet have to hurt his silky-smooth-beautiful man-feet." But he stayed tangled up in mine.

He didn't say anything or crack any jokes about my raggedy feet, which happens on occasion. Instead our feet stayed twisted together and I smiled as I drifted off to sleep thinking I was the luckiest girl in the world.

My life may never be "smooth," but I married the man with the softest feet and he doesn't even care that they are wrapped around my dry, cracked, ratchet heels that might cut his precious toes.

Instead he just brushed his feet against mine, told me he loved me and kissed me goodnight. 

He's the only thing that calms this storm and all that surrounds it; him and his nice ass feet.

So now you know the truth... I'm severely pedicure-deprived, so don't mess with me or my sandpaper heels might cut you.

Jealous of my man's feet,

Miserable Days

You know, people always said that my mouth would get me into trouble.

Well, this time they were right. I've had enough of my mouth's BS.

Mouth, you're killing me.

I'm sure you're wondering, WTF is she talking about now? OK, so here it goes.

------

Painful--that's the word I would use to describe the past three days.

I've not been able to eat anything the past two days. The day before that I barely had a few sips of a smoothie and that was it.

I've thrown up multiple times and why?

Mucuscitis.

I have these sores that developed in my mouth, on my tongue and in my esophagus.#mouthsoresarenotjustforwhores
I'm just kidding.

It's terrible. I couldn't swallow any pills yesterday, so they converted the ones they could convert into IV.

But the ones that they had me attempt to take,  I would just throw back up with some lovely blood and mucus.

By last night, I took one sip of water because I was so thirsty I couldn't stand it. I managed to get it down but 30 minutes later I became super nauseated and puked in a bucket while on the bed (can't sit on the floor or they will label it a "fall"). And while I was throwing up I started having these lower back spasms. I hollered from how excruciating it was. The back spasms are from my bone marrow trying to spit out new cells.

This one was so bad, I threw up blood and bile.
And all that I was spitting up earlier that day was blood. That's it. It was horrible.

Meanwhile I have these sores in my throat, on my tongue and the sides of my mouth, and even down my esophagus.

These past few days have been exceptionally brutal. I've never felt pain like this. It's not like my mouth is sore, it's more like thorns in my throat and every time I swallow they just hit each other and try to send my food, pills or whatever back up.

I also couldn't talk much (or where people could understand me) because I have all of this extra saliva because I'm not swallowing because of the pain. This created an equally frustrating problem for me since no one could understand me, I had to repeat myself over and over again. Fun fact: my biggest pet peeve is repeating myself. I get super annoyed super fast.

I've literally felt like I'm in a horror film--some nastier version "The Exorcist" puking and spitting blood and other grossness everywhere.

I wish there was some way to describe it to you--the pain--but there honestly isn't. It feels like my throat closes or is closed more on one side and won't allow anything down and the pain is just reminding me to "stop trying to eat or drink."

But my stomach is all, "F U throat, I'm hungry."

My body is a bitch. What a P in the A (pain in the ass, for those of you who don't know that expression).

Beyond that, Klay was gone this weekend to the Reserves so it's been difficult not having him around. I'm just tired and exhausted, and I'm actually wanting to feel better or when I do, something happens and I start puking again.

I did just eat some soup, bread, and mashed potatoes and that seemed to go down ok (so far). It's just today has been one of those days I can't keep my eyes open. Between all of the meds they've given me (and they are strong) my head just doses to the side trying to get me to sleep. Then between these mini 20-30 min naps, I have crazy ass dreams and I wake up talking to people in the room who aren't there. And it's really embarrassing when a nurse is there and you say something about a dog and they are like "they let you bring a dog up here?" "Oh, no I'm sorry I was dreaming."

I am an EFFIN mess.

The Doc told me that if I didn't have all this throat mess going on, I'd probably be going home Tuesday (tomorrow). But he's still looking at me hoping I will be getting out of here by Thursday or Friday. I can't believe that. I'm just hoping my throat gets better. That's all I want is my throat to get better.

Plus, Brody is really starting to miss mommy and daddy. It just breaks my heart when he says he wants us to come pick him up. I'm so ready to be with my boys again. I mean who could resist this adorableness?

Those two faces make everything better. I just adore them. I'm so ready for this hospital stay to be done and behind me. It probably won't be my last stay, but let's hope it will be for a long time.


Feeling Mouthy,

The Transplant

It's finally happened.
Transplant day came and went.

I will no longer be me on the insides (at least that's kind of how I see it). Someone else's stem cells will try to graft to my body and generate a new, functioning immune system.

I know I should be more excited but I think my nerves have gotten the best of me.

It was a pretty anticlimactic thing. They infused the stem cells through my trifusion line in my room--like they would blood or platelets; no surgery or anything.

I suppose it's a bigger deal in life rather than the actual physical process of it all.

My nurse stayed in my room the whole time and monitored me, checking my vitals every 15 minutes. It was pretty cool cause you could see them (the stem cells) going through the tube into my chest.

I got 5 MILLION stem cells.

It seems like a lot, but any where from 4-7 MILLION is the norm.

I wish I could say that I took some cool photos for you guys, but I didn't. I've been battling a migraine and so I wasn't really up to taking them myself.

I don't think you would have been able to see the stem cells anyway.
I just wish I would have been feeling better to document it for you guys.

The nurses did come in and sing "Happy Transplant Day [to me]" and brought me a cake and everything. That was really cool and sweet. It made the day feel special.

But these past few days have been super rough. From GI issues to a migraine that won't go away (which has made me puke countless times), I've just been physically a walking nightmare--emotionally too.

After four months, I still can't believe this is happening to me. I look at photos all the time and think "wow, I complained about a lot in this life." I was down most of the time, not much seemed to keep me happy. I was happy, but I bitched a lot.

What I wouldn't do to go back living days like that? Not that I want to be ungrateful; I don't. Life was simpler then. I miss the simple life--worrying about what to eat for dinner or going to the grocery store and now it's all about getting this cancer out of my body and "saving my life" talk.

I feel like I'm lying to you guys sometimes. Some days I've accepted this life and other days I refuse to think it's mine. I wake up everyday in the hospital in a nightmare. I don't want to be here. I just want to be home; I just want to be home.

That's all I can think about. I don't know why I can't seem to snap out of it. I just can't get out of this mindset that I'll be home eventually. I'm just going to have a rough go at it until then. And it sucks.

I just wish I could get over the emotional part of this journey. I can't keep from crying. I can't stop from thinking. I just need my mind to be taken away from the heartache of it all. I need to be with my boys and then that makes it worse.

I spent the bulk of tonight watching videos of Brody from my Facebook. They made me laugh and smile. I miss him so much and remember all of that like it was yesterday.


-- A FEW DAYS LATER--

The boys came up and they are getting so big. I was feeling a lot better Friday so I asked my MIL to bring them up. Brody is a hoot, talking a lot and saying things out of the blue that just make me wonder where he gets his personality from. He's so much fun. And then little Bex isn't so little any more. And he has the biggest grin when he smiles. He's so sweet and happy. I just love those little guys so much.

On Saturday, I got a really bad migraine. It was brutal and the IV pain meds they were giving weren't helping. Then I started puking and had this nurse that was ridiculous. I almost cussed her out a few times. She was just slow and then disappeared for 4 hours. WTF. This bitch...

She was driving me freaking crazy. I was hot. I wasn't having shit that day. I was miserable.

Now it's Sunday and I'm feeling much better today. I got to see one of my favorite nurses that is a few floors below me and she always makes me feel better. She walks through the door and I get more excited than a fat kid at an ice cream shop or candy store... you get the idea.

I just love her. And I fell in love with another nurse up here too. She's so amazing, funny and is good at her job. She makes me forget about being up here and I get excited when she's around too.

And that's both of their gifts in life--helping us have fun while we are here, making me laugh and forget about the cancer crap. It seriously makes a world of a difference on who your nurse is.

As far as the way I feel, I feel OK today. My throat hurts in a way it never has. It feels like I swallowed a rock every time I drink or eat. And my esophagus hurts. It's not sore, just painful. It's a weird pain.

My counts are starting to drop significantly so we are going to restrict visitors. I don't want to get an infection which could delay me going home. And infections at this point, can be fatal to me.

Unfortunately when your on this floor you hear of people passing, and it's sad. It breaks my heart for their families and some of them are so young. So when we get home we need to be extra careful for three months. It's a scary time, but it's a crucial time for me to get through these three months and start to feel better.

I know every leukemia/cancer case is different, but it's still scary to know some of the people down the hall aren't doing so well and then you hear they passed on.

It puts things in perspective though. We need to be extra careful during this time and over the next few months while my body goes through all of these changes.

All I can think about are my kids. I have to fight and get through this so I can be home with my boys. I have to.
I will.
I won't lose this battle. I can't. I won't.
I will beat this.

There just seem to be so many signs that I'm supposed to be here.
I probably wouldn't have found the leukemia so quickly if I weren't pregnant.
I had random back spasms which sent me to the doctor to get more blood work and that's when the leukemia showed up (three days after I went to the hematologist and the blood work was normal).
Bex could have died because he had this huge knot in his cord and I'd already had a placenta hormone problem which made them worry my placenta would give out before birth.

And then Bex did so well post-birth for a preemie that it was almost like he skated through it all like "I got this, Mom." And he's done so great since.

I'm just honestly so thankful for my boys. I love them more than they will ever know. And plus they are super cute!

Now it's Monday, April 13 and the chemo has lowered my counts. I just got up to walk a few laps around the unit and got so tired, so quickly. It's amazing how quick your body will give out. I managed to do six laps around, but I'm pretty exhausted now. My throat is still hurting (it's called mucositis not sure how to spell that), but it makes it incredibly painful to swallow or eat. It feels like there is a rock in my throat that goes down into my esophagus and then tries to come back up on occasion. It's pretty painful. (I know I already said that once but, it really effin hurts).

I feel like I'm emotionally in a better place than I have been the past week. #finally #zoloftyourmyhero

I'm really trying to make sense of all of this and trying to remember that it's better I'm in the hospital than at home right now with the boys. I'm so immuno-compromised that any sort of sickness could give me an infection that could be fatal.

So, I'm just trying to remember that while I'm locked up "and they won't let me out." #oldschooljams

Anyway, I'm getting tired. Probably going to lay down for a bit. I'll try to VLOG later if I have the energy. But right now, I'm pretty much like the "clear eyes" guy that talks. I'm not too entertaining. Very dull and slow.

Hope all is well out there in the 'real' world.

Remember its probably better than my reality.
Which blows big toes.


Tired and Bored,

Heartache

Today I've been a walking dead zombie on the outside and the in.

I'm physically there but mentally I can't deal. I'm not functioning. I'm on a one-way track to nowhere; just going through life's motions but not experiencing any of the joy I'm supposed to experience.

I can't shake the thoughts. I can't fight the fear. It's here. I'm in the thick of it. I want to fight. I am fighting, but I'm tired of how this whole thing effects everyone else--my boys, my husband, my parents, my sister, my grandparents, my friends, my family. I hate it all.

My heart just aches so heavily and hard at the thought of being away from my kids. It's killing me from the inside out.

After a rough day away from them, I need to just remind myself what it is I'm fighting for. I know it's hard, but I'm fighting to be with them--to walk with and watch over them as they age and grow in life. And that's what I have to keep reminding myself. It's only two more weeks but it feels like an eternity away.

I'm enduring all of this heartache now and experiencing jealousy that I don't have a so-called "normal" life anymore.

I just talked to them on FaceTime and it did lift my spirits some. It's just when Brody starts saying he wants "mommy to come home" it breaks my heart into a million pieces. He knows mommy is sick. He knows mommy is at the hospital and it's killing me.

I was afraid seeing his sweet face and hearing the sound of his voice, I would lose it and go back down into my tiny, dark hole away from everyone. I've just been distant the past two days with people I know--my friends, my family, my kids. It all seems like too much to process or to try to take in and handle.

It's a lot of hard work emotionally.

I'm up and down, I'm here and there, I'm like a one-woman circus catastrophe waiting to happen. I'm all over the place right now. I'm in a funk, I feel like a zombie because I can't snap out of what is happening to me.

The emotions of this all is what could ruin me. I think I manage the pain well, but it's the emotions that hurt. I just have to know that I'm not going to be up here forever stuck in this room, wasting away one day at a time--a day that I could be spending with my kids and loved ones.

That makes it hard. I see all of the beautiful photos that my friends are posting on Facebook of their kids having fun Easter hunting, and I won't get to do that with the boys because I'll be chained to my hospital bed. And that just sucks. But I will be able to do it with them next year.

But I do love seeing all of the beautiful photos and imagining what your days must of been like. What  went through your mind when you chose your family's semi-matching outfits, how many of you stopped by the store on the way to get some last-minute Easter supplies, how much good food you consumed.

I wish I could be out there doing the same with our family right now, but it's not going to happen.

I just can tell that all of the blood-life that pumps through my veins is draining out of me. I have this poison being cycled through my body, killing off parts of me (my immune system), so they can replace the "bad" parts with "good" ones. I get it. But it is literally life-draining; I don't know if the pun was intended on that or not.

SEE? I can't even make a joke.

My hormones and emotions are very top-heavy and it doesn't matter which way I lean cause it's gonna be a doozy of a fall. I just can't shake it. I need to, but I can't.

I do feel a little better tonight than I have all day (this was actually last night that I wrote this). My mom brought me scrapbooking stuff with motivational quotes so I could work on a little project while I'm up here. And it kept me busy and helped me relax. It was actually just what I needed today.

Then, the nausea hit. And I got sick and sick.

I'm better now, but I just hope it stays that way. It was pretty awful.

I'm starting to feel worst physically, but it doesn't help that emotionally I'm not at my best. I'm dragging my feet everywhere--physically and emotionally--around and I just need help. I just need something to lift my spirits. I need something to know that this is a few weeks of nothing and we are going to move forward and this will be a distant thought from the past. That's what I want more than anything.

Distance from this. Distance from this pain in my heart.

I never thought that I would experience physical heartache, but this really does make my heart hurt. Being aways from the kids and living for two weeks in this room is going to drain me. I don't know how I can make it through this. I'm trying. I'm trying. Lord, I'm trying, but I feel defeated.

Please God, come into my heart and explain to me that this is all worth it in the end. Provide me with the spiritual distance I need from this hospital while I'm still physically in here. I need a mood changer. I need to step up my game. I know if I continue to go down this negative/depressed route, it won't be good. I need a better attitude. I need something to do.

Ok, Cass.
Life is worth it.
It will get better.
You're a fighter, Cass.

You can do this.

Cancer, you can suck it.

Day 1 VLOG: Stem Cell Transplant Update from the Hospital

So hey guys!

Here's my VLOG within a BLOG...

I got here yesterday so I guess it's technically "day 2." It was a rough day yesterday and I've been really frustrated, annoyed and not feeling too perky so I'm just in a SHIT mood.

Sorry bout the cursing, but it's truth. It's not a fantastic update or anything that took too much time, so don't expect much. Maybe on the next one, I'll go all like Steven Spielberg and earn an Oscar. But until then, it is what it is.

So here it is... My first loner VLOG from the hospital. I'm balding out and I have a runny nose, but it doesn't get more real than that. #donthate

If someone would give me some IV meds that would be make me sleepy, I would be a much nicer person. I'm just not there. These nurses probably hate me, but I can't help it. I've been hungry, hurting and sleepy for the past two days. Feed me and knock me out. Is that too much to ask?

Please share, comment and pray for me and my family during this time. We really need all of your prayers and I need your encouragement to get through the next three weeks.

In other news, I'll be ordering this tee this week. #thuglife

One hungry mama,

No Sleep Tonight

***Please note this post was written two weeks ago, and I was just having a bad day. This was pre-wreck and pre-lumbar puncture.***

My chest is tight, almost like a heavy rock is sitting on it.
I have restricted breathing.

Something isn't wrong medically, at least I don't think so. It's my brain that has my body all twisted up in knots.

It's 11:41 pm and I'm wide awake... wide awake thinking.

Normally I don't go to bed before 11, but Klay has to get up crazy early in the morning, so I was trying to get as much sleep as possible before Beckham woke up for a late night feeding.

But somehow, even after taking an Ambien, I'm still awake.

My mind is racing and tonight is just one of those nights I feel legitimately scared.

I read an email earlier about my stem cell transplant. It seems that the transplant won't happen until mid-April because my donor is unavailable 'til then.

So then I start thinking... what if the cancer comes back before then?

I can only do the transplant while in remission. I'm scared it will resurface and then everything will be put on hold.

And my mind keeps going...

You're going to have to be away from your kids for a while.
Your kids are going to be bouncing around from house to house while I'm stuck in the hospital.
The road to recovery after the transplant is a long one--one year or more, they say. But for most up to six months, I have to be super careful.

I just attended a transplant class to learn more about the transplant and procedure along with a whole list of things they will tell me I can't do.

We learned a lot, but the main thing I realized is we are going to need a lot of help from my caregivers. Klay is going to school, working full-time and goes to the USAF Reserves one weekend a month. He does all of these things for us. The school helps better his future, but we also get some money for rent while he attends, and the Reserves is strictly for us to have good insurance, which we clearly need right now.

I feel so bad because I can't contribute. It would be absolutely incredible if somehow I could grow this blog and make even just a little money off of it. Though, if I don't make money, it's not going to change how or the reasons for me blogging. I will continue to do this as long as people are reading. I love doing it--money or not.

But you know who all of this is unfair to when it comes to the transplant?

My kids.

"Mommy will not be normal for a long time," I have to tell them.
"Mommy will be in the hospital for a while, so things are going to be different for a long time."
"Mommy won't probably be able to take care of you when you're sick, if you get sick before mommy gets better."

For three weeks, I won't be able to kiss them goodnight.
For three weeks, I won't be able to sing my "good morning" song to them.
For three weeks, I won't say "OK, Bro. What's for breakfast?"
For three weeks, I won't be able to bathe them, change diapers, or snuggle with them when they cry.

And that's just a guess for how long I will be in the hospital. It could be longer if there are complications and maybe a few days shorter if I just kick some straight up transplant ass.

I just hate it. I feel like a caged animal. And I haven't even started the transplant process yet.

And then I start thinking about the lumbar puncture I'm supposed to have (where they will run chemo up my spinal canal and brain to make sure no leukemia cells are hiding out). I was told yesterday that I would have to have that procedure w/ chemo done four times. FOUR.

My chest is getting tighter right now.

What if something happens to me?
What if my kids are left without a mommy?
What if I'm so sick I don't get to do normal things with my children?
What if the cancer comes back? I know I said that already but what if it does?
The "what if's" can drive anyone crazy.

I know I can't dwell on that, and I know I must stay positive, but some days I just want to cry.
This can't be my life. It can't. It just can't.

Why would God do this to me?
If it was to save my children from any type of illness like this, I'm all for it.
But I just can't understand the WHY, the reasoning, and I know no one does but Him. But why?

I know I will get a lot of comments telling me "only God knows," but it still doesn't make this fair. It still doesn't explain "why me?" It still doesn't explain why my family has to go through this.

Did I do something wrong in this life to deserve this?

These are some of the questions and thoughts that keep me awake at night.

My life has been turned upside down in three months.
My family's lives have been turned upside down too.
I'm so tired all time.
I'm so physically tired that today I could barely keep my eyes open and was just praying Bex would sleep for a while so I could nap. But then I have Brody to take care of, and it's not fair that I'm napping while he's watching cartoons. I should be playing cars with him on the floor or being active with him in some way. I should be taking him outside to see the sun because it's been way too long with all this crappy, cold, icy weather we've been having in Texas.

I'm tired of the appointments; there are so many appointments.
I hated going to the doctor before, but now I really hate it.
I'm there two-three times a week, at least. And next week, if platelets are high enough, they will schedule the first lumbar puncture (this post was written two weeks ago, so I just completed my first lumbar puncture yesterday, March 19. I'll talk more about this in a later post).

I'm tired of driving all the way out to Dallas. I'm tired of having to leave my kids at home because they aren't allowed in the office because other patients are neutropenic. I'm tired of only getting out when I have a doctor appointment. Otherwise, I stay home with the kids because I'm too tired to take them both somewhere. And any exposure to strangers or groups of people puts me at risks for infections.

I'm tired of taking this Nexavar pills. It make my neck and face all bumpy/rash-like and I have to take it so many hours before I eat or so many after. Coordinating my food around that medicine is the most infuriating thing because I like to snack. (But since I wrote this post, my doctor took me off! Virtual high-five!)

I just cannot believe all of this.
It's so difficult to process.

The only way I can stay sane sometimes is to joke about it.
Just to really just laugh about what is going on.
Just laugh about being bald.
Laugh about having no eyelashes.
Laugh about looking like a bruised banana.
Laugh about trying to get a "cancer discount" every where I go.

I just try to get through this in any way I can.
Tonight is just one of those nights I'm letting myself really feel the weight of it all.

I honestly don't care any more that I'm bald; that doesn't hold me back anymore. Whatever. It's who I am now; it shows the struggle I'm going through.

I just want a normal life again.
I want to be with my kids.
I want to be with my husband.
I want to be with my family.

That's all I want.
And I want this fear to go away, so I can breathe again.

I'm eagerly waiting to start the transplant, but I'm equally dreading it at the same time. I dread being away from my boys, from my dogs, from my home but I know I have to do this to get better and have the best chance at this.

Right now, they have me scheduled to go into the hospital March 30 to get a tri-fusion thingy put in my chest to infuse the stem cells through. I'll talk more about this and the timeline of the transplant in a future post. I've learned a lot about the process since the class this Thursday.

I was very nervous about the lumbar puncture and chemo, but now the anticipation for the transplant is keeping me awake at night.

I hate how much I won't be able to contribute to help out because I'm the one going through this mess. I hate that I won't be a "normal" Cass for my kids and family. I just want to be normal again.

On the plus side, I'll be getting some good drugs soon when I get admitted in the hospital... that should help me get some legitimate rest. Amen for some good drugs!

Drug me up and knock me out,


PS. The next week I got into a wreck. I guess things can get worse, but I feel a lot better mentally right now. I'm ready to kick some cancer butt and move on from this part of my life.

Knocked Down

There are days where I truly think I have this cancer thing down.

I mean I'm tired of going to the doctor every few days and having to be admitted into the hospital for blood transfusions, platelets, magnesium and potassium like twice a week, but I just keep thinking "I'm almost there," and I may actually beat AML.

Then a day like yesterday happens.

There were a few things that happened at this particular doctor appointment that got me down, but when I went, though I was super tired and exhausted, I was smiling and laughing and even made some new friends in the waiting room.

And, I thought, maybe this is what I should do? Work in oncology somehow after all of this is over and help boost people's spirits and make them feel like they aren't alone going through this. I mean I do know how they feel... I'm going through it too.

This sweet couple I met had found out about the wife's diagnosis in January. So they asked a few questions and I talked a bit on how things went with me (chemo, being pregnant while finding out, and transplant stuff). They were still learning, and I am too, but I was able to provide a little insight on what's to come for her.

So, I was feeling pretty good.

Then, my doctor comes in and asks me if I was told about the "lumbar puncture."

I told him "no," and he goes on to explain.

For those of you who may not know, a lumbar puncture or spinal tap is a minimally invasive procedure where they put a needle into the lower part of your back between two lumbar bones to draw cerebrospinal fluid (CSF). They will do this to make sure no leukemic cells are present and then they will run chemo through the spinal tap. It's a procedure that takes about 30 minutes and I believe he said it can be done in his office.

He basically said this is precautionary. We just need to do it to make sure nothing is hiding anywhere (particularly my spinal canal and brain) and to reduce the chances of the AML coming back.

I get that.
I do.

But when you're talking about running chemo through my spinal canal and I'm assuming that goes up to the fluid around the brain, that scares me.

My doctor acted like it was no big deal, which of course, is the way my husband took it. But now that's just one more thing I have to do and this is particularly scary. I don't want to even think about the things that could go wrong.

That's my brain we are talking about messing with. I know I don't have much up there, but it still is my brain.

I just wasn't ready for that news.

I don't know when that procedure will be done. I do know he said he would do it when my counts started to come back up.

Then when I was leaving their office, about to checkout, I just looked around at the people who are also sick with AML or ALL and I start to think not all of us are going to make it.

And everyday I go to the doctor, that waiting room is full of cancer patients and according to a nurse, his patient intake is only increasing. I mean it's good for him business-wise, but it saddens me that so many are effected by this disease.

Through all of this, I still can't believe this happening to me. It seems so unreal. But then there are days I don't know what the hell I did before being diagnosed. It's honestly taken over my life.

I'm actually in the hospital now getting blood, platelets, potassium, phosphorus and magnesium. I'm low on everything. It's almost 2 p.m. I'm sure I won't leave here til 8 or so.

I hate this too. Everything takes so much time.

I just want to be home with my kids.

I may be heading in for a transplant in two or three weeks so this crap takes away my time with them.

Of course, I do need a break from them from time to time since I keep them by myself everyday, but I miss them when I'm not around them. That's the curse of being a mom--you need a break, but when you take one, you miss and think about them the whole time.

Anyway back to yesterday. The spinal tap wasn't the only thing I was upset about. I'd talked to his assistant about the possibility having another baby the week prior. They said the probability of being sterile--especially after transplant--is 80-90%.

They let me know that freezing my eggs would take too much time to do, and we'd have to do it pre-transplant, and they don't recommend postponing my treatment any longer.

Then, they told me about a shot they can give me before my next round of chemo that can shut down my ovaries so that they aren't further damaged and then they should start operating again in 3-5 years, if I understood them correctly.

Klay and I really wanted to do the shot. He didn't want to have the option of another baby ripped off the table either. We figured at least with the shot we will have tried, and they told me it will up my chances to conceive to about 50%.

So I was pretty excited about that when I went to the doctor last Thursday.

Then, yesterday happened.

"How badly do you want to have another baby?" my doctor asked.

Uh oh. Doesn't sound like this is going in a good direction.

"Why?" I asked.

He asked because the type of chemo he planned to give me prior to the transplant is the one that does the most "damage" to your ovaries or has the highest percentage that I will be sterile following treatment. He said he could change my chemo to something less harsh, but he would rather use this "ovary killer" kind. (I'm not quoting him there, just telling you how I feel.)

My heart sank.

I know I have to do what is necessary to beat this, but cancer has taken so much away from me already, and now it wants to take my ovaries and eggs with it?

And I know I have two beautiful boys and I should be so thankful for that; other people out there have a lot less and aren't so fortunate. But I just hate that this cancer is determining my future and our future as a family.

It makes me feel guilty that I most likely won't be able to produce another baby for Klay and for the boys. It makes me feel worthless.

I mean how am I ever going to feel like a woman again? If I can't have babies, I have no hair and no eyelashes, plus I just had a baby and I can't exercise, so my body doesn't feel womanly at all. I feel stripped of my womanhood.

And I'm not ready to let go of the baby stage yet. Little Bex is doing so good, and all I want to do it snuggle with him and smell him.

Needless to say, I left the appointment feeling defeated and not wanting to talk.

Klay and I went to grab some dinner and sat down in our booth, and as soon as I started talking about everything, tears just poured of my eyes. I couldn't stop.

I feel like I have handle on it all and then something like this happens. Two things thrown at me at once and I feel like I'm knocked back down again. I mean physically I am beat down, but mentally too.

When I think of all of this, I just want to cry.

I'm scared of the lumbar puncture and chemo through the spine and its side effects. Primarily, they say the main one is headaches, like a 20 or 25% chance for headaches and a 20% for really bad headaches. Um. THAT will be me. I get headaches all the time, so I guarantee it will be bad.

I know Klay, you're reading this and thinking "Cass, why do you always think the worst?"

Babe, it's just in my DNA. I'm sorry, but that's where my mind goes.

But if I expect the worst and it ends up being a cake-walk then I'll be like "hey, that wasn't so bad after all."

And today, I just feel like I could sleep all day. I mean it makes sense because my body is low on everything. But I'm just run down, beat down and knocked down today and not just physically.

I know I'm doing a lot better than others with AML. I found a donor and I need to keep that in mind. But I can't help the hurt and fear I feel.

This isn't over yet.
I still have a long road ahead.

At least I have these three nerds stopping by to keep my spirits up! Officer Logan, Lauren and my hubs.

And these two cuties to go home to...

How can life be so good but suck so bad at the same time?

Confused, Happy, Sad, Scared and Grateful,

The Match

You'd think after three months, I'd be used to this cancer BS by now. It's still a difficult thing to accept.

This is my life.

I know I've said this time and time again, but I never thought "cancer" would ever be a word used to describe some portion of my life.

I never dreamed I'd be bald and hooked up to a machine 24/7 that I have tote everywhere like an unwanted ball and chain--though I suppose no one wants a ball and chain.

I just don't get how I can be so unlucky. It's like I won the unhealthy lottery. To have been 29 weeks pregnant and find out I have acute myeloid leukemia and I have to have my baby 10 weeks early was a lot to take on. I just couldn't understand why I had to go through so much at once.

I mean it's one thing to have a premature baby in the NICU.

Then to add having cancer on top of that.

And, having a three year old at home who is going to be tossed around from house to house til we get home to some normalcy again, just seems so unfair.

All of it is unfair.

I know, I know "life is unfair."

But it's not fair that it's unfair. I say that like a little six-year-old girl throwing her fists toward the ground and stomping her foot.

It's not, it's not, it's not!

There are days through this that I feel strong, and I don't care about my bald head. Then, I look a photos of me, pre-cancer and with hair, and I wish I could feel like that girl again.

I know I'll never feel the same.

Cancer has changed me.

Everything that goes on in my life revolves around this and that in itself is exhausting.

No one wants to talk "cancer talk" all the time; it's incredibly depressing.

But I suppose what I'm about to tell you, people would want to know...

Shit's about to get real.

They

found

a

match.

Wow--those words just came out of my mouth--or more liked typed on my computer.

I'm honestly not sure if I'm even supposed to know that yet, but they narrowed it down to a donor.

The donor is on hold waiting for us to schedule a transplant date.

Of course, it's always a possibility for the donor to back out or change their mind.
Let's pray they don't.

But if this person does, they had two more people they were interested in.

This person is a 100% full match, apparently if I'm using an unrelated donor I have to have a full match, which I didn't know.

It's kind of crazy knowing there is someone out there that somehow genetically matches me and I don't even know this person.

That's insane.

It's definitely exciting though. I wonder who this person is? Where do they live? What do they do for fun? Wonder what they look like? I just want to know all I can about them.

I'm not real surprised they found a match, because they told me I would most definitely find one.

Since announcing I will have a stem cell transplant, I've received a lot of messages and comments asking how people can get tested or how they can help.

Now I may have found my match, so you may not be able to help me, but I encourage everyone to visit bethematch.org to learn more about how you can join the international registry.

From what I understand, you sign up and they send you a kit to do a quick, painless mouth swab. You mail it back to the organization and you're in the system. It's as easy as that.

And why not join the registry? You could have the chance to save someone's life.

From children to adults in their fifties and more, you might have the goods to help someone live longer. That's the most amazing thing in the world--trying to save someone's life.

I guess if I ever got a phone call saying I could save someone's life and donate my stem cells, I'd have to do it. There is a complete stranger out there and they need my help. I'm the person who can help them the way no way anyone else can. And I'd hope if one of my family members were going through this, that a donor would want to step up and do the same for me and mine.

This is pretty epic news because the odds were against me staying in remission without a transplant. Yes, I said remission; I'm considered in remission currently.

That doesn't mean I'm cured, so don't get too excited just yet.

The chances of me going into long-term remission post-transplant are 7 out of 10 and even in more recent studies show 9 out of 10, which is great, but a long road still lies ahead.

If I was unable to have a transplant, especially with my pesky FLT3 mutation, the odds of me being in long-term remission with chemo only would be 2 out of 10.

So, it's imperative that I have this transplant.

I know this is going to suck.
I know it's not going to be fun, but I'm going to do this and get better.

This isn't going to be IT for me.
It won't.
I refuse.

AML will not tear me away from my family.
So screw you AML, I'm not going anywhere.

Here's The Plan 

I should start the transplant in a month or so (probably late March or early April).

The transplant includes another round of chemo--a longer and more intense chemo--to wipe out my bone marrow and immune system. They will infuse the donor's stem cells into my body and I'll essentially develop their healthy immune system that spits out no leukemia cells.

I'm still learning the details but they did all kinds of tests while I was in the hospital to have me ready for the transplant when it's time.

Apparently I will have some other device embedded into the skin in my chest (kind of like a port but different I guess) to infuse the stem cells through. I thought they'd be doing that in my port, but clearly I'm not educated enough on this transplant stuff just yet.

I'm supposed to take a class to learn more about what will happen when it's time. I need a class. All of this stuff is very confusing.

It's crazy though. I've thought about the transplant, but I didn't want to think too much about it because I'd get so upset thinking about being away from my kids for a long time.

Three weeks is just way too long.
I hate that.

I could barely sleep the first night I was in the hospital because I missed them so bad.

I've heard people say that they will make exceptions for me. I just hope they keep their word.

My boys are growing and changing so fast, and like Steven Tyler, "I don't want to miss a thing." I know what you're thinking... "corny line, Cass." I know I literally just re-read that and cringed.

But "I don't want to miss a thing." Ugh. Stop it, Cass.

I honestly dread how much pressure will be put on my family and friends to help us out while I'm in the hospital.

I'm afraid of how sick I'll get.

I'm afraid of the GVHD crap that could make me really ill.

I'm scared of a lot of things.

But today, I'm going to focus on the positive.

The transplant is in our future.

A donor has been selected.

Things are looking up.

I will get better; I just have to.

In the mean time, I guess we will just wait for a transplant date.

I'll be twiddling my thumbs til then waiting on the stem cells to arrive... HA! Who am I kidding? I got a toddler and a newborn, my hands are full.

Side note: wouldn't it be awesome if I could get infused like Superman's stem cells? Or maybe Buffy's? Hmm... how amazing would it be if this person were a celebrity? That'd be cool. Like if I got Matthew Mcconaughey's, I'd be saying, "Alright, alright, alright. I'm just gonna keep livin' man. JKL."

LOL. I'm such a nerd. I totally said that out loud in my "Mcconaughey voice" as I typed.

Ehh... honestly I'm cool with getting stem cells from anyone who is HEALTHY.

But Matthew, if it's you, "it'd be a lot cooler [it was]."

Dazed and Kinda Confused (by the ending of my post),

No Baby?

And my heart sank...

"Your chemotherapy and your stem cell transplant will most likely only give you less than a 25% chance to have another baby," my oncologist told me.

I'd just had my precious baby Beckham a few weeks prior. He was still in the hospital fighting to be a normal baby and get the heck out of the special care nursery.

But the second my doctor finished that sentence, I immediately wanted another baby.

After the miserable pregnancy I had with Beckham--with severe morning sickness, which was more like all day and night sickness for 23 weeks--I was pretty sure he was going to be my last child. Plus I found out, while 29 weeks pregnant, I have Acute Myeloid Leukemia.

The thought of having another child was so far out of my mind when I heard the words "you have cancer."

There was so much more to focus on. We needed to get Bex out safely and I needed to start chemo asap.

I just kept thinking if I got through all of this cancer stuff, and then tried to have another baby, would it spark it back up? Theoretically, or medically, probably not. But that's what I'd be thinking in my mind if I ever got knocked up post-cancer.

I pretty much wanted to steer clear of having another baby after this pregnancy was a whirlwind.

BUT the second my doctor said I'd most likely be sterile (his words, not mine), I wanted another baby right then and there. I almost threw Klay on the ground and told him we needed to get started STAT.

I guess it's like a childhood-parent relationship, where your parent tells you that you can't have something so you only want it more.

That's where I am.
I want another baby.

It sounds so selfish. I just had a healthy baby boy born 10 weeks early with no serious issues, and I'm so thankful for that. I love that little boy so much. But seeing his sweet face and holding him makes me want to cherish every second, every ounce of this little precious person. I don't want to miss anything. I want to be with him, but it makes me sad he's growing up so fast. I feel like he is anyway.

He was so tiny.
And now I feel like he's huge.

And he's already so smart. I mean look at him!

I mean that's a good thing--a really good thing--he's growing up to be a strong boy. Buuuuutttttt, I literally had to fight back the tears when he went up to size 1 diapers last week. I can't believe he's already in 1's. I just stared at his tiny newborn diapers in sadness. They are so small. I can't believe he's growing so fast.

And on top of all of this crazy baby-wanting hormone crap, Brody is turning 3 this week--3! How did that happen? I can't believe it. Time flies.

I'm so thankful for my healthy kids. I truly am. It just seems selfish for me to want to have another baby when I already have two healthy, happy children.

I guess it just saddens me that this will--quite possibly--be the end of the "baby stage" once Beckham gets older. I'm sure every mother experiences that sadness of knowing that you won't witness seeing another one of your children take its first breath in the delivery room, or see their first baby grin.

Believe me, I know that I will have lots of new experiences with the boys as they get older. I will cheer for them at their first ball game, kiss them and tell them to have a good day on their first day of school, watch their faces light up when they see the ocean for the first time, and so much more.

I'm excited for those things.

But every time I see a pregnant lady, I just want to be THAT pregnant lady again. Experience the joys of going to the hospital, the joys of seeing your child for the first time, and the joy of breastfeeding--especially because I didn't get to experience that with Bex.

It's really stupid for me to complain about things like this. There are so many people out there who aren't fortunate enough to be able to experience a baby like I have.

That's much harder than any of this that I'm going through, cancer included.
I couldn't imagine.

When I look at Bex, I cherish him and our late night feedings. I just kiss him and love on him so much. I much more calm than I was with Brody, so I kind of feel like Bro got the shitty end of the stick.

Being a first-time mom was scary and intense. I had no idea what I was doing. But with Beckham, I feel like I'm a better mom. That probably sounds terrible. I'm just so much more relaxed. I don't stress over the small stuff. I can handle it. But with Bro I was a wreck. I literally lost my mind. I went crazy. And I feel bad for Brody because of that.

But Brody still gets lots of kisses from mommy, don't worry about that. I love that little funny guy. He makes me laugh daily. He's seriously the most amazing little boy. He lights up my life.

No one ever said this parenting thing was going to be easy. I just don't know if I can let go of the not having another child again. Someone taking that away from you is the cruelest feeling in the world.

I was ready for the baby stage this second time around. I'm happy to get up for the late-night feedings and ready to change diapers. I literally jump for joy when this kid poos. I can't help it. Poo-ing excites me.

So, this can't be it, right? It can't be my last baby.

But then I think, what if this cancer thing takes a turn for the worst. I'll have left Klay with two kids (or more if we managed to have any) and that seems so unfair to him.

Stop rolling your eyes, babe. I know you are while you're reading this hunny buns. I just worry so much. I think too much. I want so badly to live this life with you and our kids. And I want to make babies with you because those kids will have the most amazing father on the planet.

And Klay, I know we are in the hospital, but the fact you went to get me cereal and milk for dinner from CVS (because I'm a crazy person) is making you look even sexier while you're laying on that bed next to me, hot stuff. I adore you.

I might try making a baby tonight. LOL... just kidding.

Seriously though, this baby sitch is weighing on my mind. Every time I see a pregnant woman walking around I just want to be her. Experience all of that again. Plus, chances are she's not finding out she has cancer while she's pregnant. So she's probably having a wonderful pregnancy. The whole leukemia thing sort of ruined the normalcy of Bex's pregnancy, obvi.

I could always adopt. There are plenty of children out there who need good homes. I've thought about that for a long long time. I would love to do that to. But I still won't get to experience being pregnant again.

I know I can't have everything I want.

This cancer has taken a lot away from me. And, I'm mad about that. It took my confidence, my hair, my eyelashes, my baby boy out of utero, time away from my children and it's most likely going to take away my ability to have another child.

On the flip side, I guess to this cancer has given me a lot of things too.

-- A reason to fight.
-- A rash.
-- A more open mind. 
-- A new card to play when I don't feel like doing something... 
            Klay: "Can you make me a sandwich?" 
            Me: "You know I would, but I have cancer so..."
-- Knowledge.
-- More faith in people.
-- Bad diarrhea. 
-- No need to shave the lady parts any more (FIST PUMP!)
-- Strength that I never knew I had.
-- Frustration
-- A drugless and natural vaginal birth (yowza!)
-- Hope
-- New friends.
-- And it has helped restore my relationship with God.

I guess I just have to play the next year or two by ear and see how I feel and look at all the possibilities of either adoption, trying to have another baby or becoming a baby-snatcher at a hospital...

I'm kidding... or am I?

Someone needs to bring me a baby to sniff, STAT!

Baby Fevered & Losing My Mind & Possibly My Uterus,