Dear chemo side effects:
Please go away.
Sincerely,
Christina
The lethargy has set in amongst other side effects. I still can't tell you what my results of my 90 day tests are because I was not able to see my doctor yesterday and we discovered they didn't even run the damn test two weeks ago. I was feeling bad the past couple of weeks, Sickle Cell bad, and believed I was not cured. If you remember an earlier post in which I explained hematocrit and hemoglobin numbers, with mine running low due to having Sickle Cell disease, I am using those numbers to determine my fate. The hematocrit and hemoglobin are running normal, as in for 'a person who does not produce Sickle Cells normal' so this is the only news I need. Well, not the only news, but I think it is significant. Here I stand, 113 days post-transplant, and I'm still producing healthy red blood cells. Old me hematocrit was 8, new me hematocrit is 13. Old me hemoglobin was 22, new me hemoglobin is 38. You connect the dots.
Now, I'm hoping to consult with Dr. Brodsky next week to determine if I can still go to London or if I have to postpone my acceptance for a year. I received my official letter of unconditional acceptance to Central's to apply for my visa to the U.K. I held it above my head and prayed to the Gods while doing a native dance. Filling out that application is interesting; they asked me everything but my hip size. I also sent in my housing request.
I wanted to share something I learned about myself this week. First I need you to watch this :48 second video.
My sister has always been a fan of Vernon Jordan, and he frequently speaks at Howard University chapel, my mothers alma mater that she dials into on the radio most Sundays. Even further into this interview he talks about leaving the Urban League to go underground to practice law then coming back into existence for the Clinton Administration. "I sort of like the in and out process" is what he said with a sly look.
It's now my time to go underground or 'out' for a while and 'go for it' as Vernon's mom encouraged him to do. If you know me personally, I'm just a phone call or train ride away. If you want to know my progress (or fingers crossed) my new zip code and when to book your flight. Now, because you can visit, I no longer need to maintain this blog and I will focus further on the documentary. I thank you for reading, understanding and praying for me during this entire process.
Peace and blessings, kisses and hugs,
Christina Madry
Friday, November 6, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Love does conquer all
I remember vividly from the time I was a toddler to around the age of 7, I would hug my grandmother every night before I went to bed. Sometimes I would hug my mother but she was never really receptive to it. Then around 8 or 9 it ended permanently with my mother, don't even think about it. I remember this vividly.
Then I went to Hampton University where, from day one, we (as in the student body) hugged. My sister went there as well so we even hugged! We were a family at HU and families hug, we don't shake hands. Then I moved to New York where everyone suggested hugging is for friends, don't take it personal, its just business -- so I stopped hugging and strengthened my hand shake.
Next I became a young woman and wanted my first impression to embody sophistication, so I began to offer my hand to gentlemen. I wanted to reinforce the fact that I am not a man and intimacy is still important to me.
I revisited Steinbeck for a couple of years during my second stint in New York: Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden. No one hugged in a Steinbeck world, tough love is the foundation of working class American families. When Tommy returned home from prison after 4 years, his family was so happy to see him, but not one hug -- not one.
I moved to Paris and a kiss on each cheek is de rigeur. Big kiss (Gros Bisous!) is what Corinne (the stylist I worked for) would say to me when she would end a conversation over the phone.
Bisous,
C. Madry
is how I began to present my valediction. It is ever present in every part of their culture as seen here with Michelle Obama and Carla Bruni. A handshake or offer of the hand seemed unapologetically American. Upon my return to America and the handshake, my brother, a new student of islam, taught me its considered disgusting to offer the right hand because "you wipe your ass with it". UGH!!! Sad but he had a point.
Then I saw Larry David on Joy Behar and he reinforced this notion, he said: "there was no hugging (60 years ago)! Only watching."
So I've asked the question: do I know what intimacy or love is and better yet, am I vulnerable enough in my life to love someone? I am the first to admit I have not been in a committed relationship in years, yet in my work I seek to create fashion art with the most vulnerable photographers and models I can find.
My New Golden Rule: Love does conquer all
I don't care what Harvie Krumpet or some of my friends have advised. It is the golden rule and comes before #586, so take that Harvie. Love is the panacea and upon it I will build my character and work through my maladies.
Maybe I've been listening to far too much Corneille on my iPOD lately. I mean, how can you not feel great after knowing his story and hearing the song "A man of this world" or "Back to life"? Or maybe Hollywood just restored a part of my soul, the part that lost this basic concept when I first had my heart broken. I just saw 'Seven Pounds' and wow, what a great movie. The similarities between the character Emily and myself are uncanny. I couldn't stop crying!
I shared a story with a friend the other day, about the kindness of others and how it has been my mission since the days of going to iPOP to do something nice for someone every single day. What inspired me? After chemo, there are several side effects beyond the typical loss of hair and digestive issues so commonly discussed. One of those is temperature, you're always cold. I mean, it feels like you're walking around in a freezer -- and I had my chemo in the summer. There was a particular lady who was going through her 5th round of chemo and, poor thing, she would sit in her wheelchair with 2 blankets, sweaters, sweats, her chemo cap and furry boots or slippers. While she waited, she would sometimes request to wait outside of the hospital -- in 90 degrees. Yes, that cold. Anyway, there is a group of knitters who do about 15 knit caps every week and sit them in the computer/game room with a note attached. It simply says this:
That simple gesture touched my heart. Even after I took a hat to wear, whenever I would sit in that room, I would look at the hats and smile. I took the tag off of mine and wrote on the back: "Remember, do something nice for someone today" and placed it on my storage cabin in my bathroom. That way I'm reminded to do so in the morning when I start my day. Trust me, it's much easier said than done, especially when you have friends as giving as mine.
I also realized I've never been in love. I thought I had, but I now know there is a big difference between infatuation or the idea of being with someone, than really loving someone for who they are and because you have it in your heart to give. The vulnerability it takes to love is something I've lacked for a while now, but I'm working on it. I think if I do, it will manifest itself in my work as well. There is one person in my life who I have consistently been vulnerable with and the reward has been so much greater than I could have imagined. The reward wasn't tangible, the reward was the act of showing up in our friendship. I believe it has been the source of my sudden motivation to jump back into photo shoots. So I will begin to work again, work as in styling, and that will be my litmus test. Look out for the launch of my site again by late spring 2010 and you be the judge.
I had my 90 day post-transplant tests taken last Thursday, on day 91. I didn't make it my status on fb or send out a "Pay attention to me!" email or blog because I still need some loner time to digest what the doctors are about to tell me. I'm so anxious and have dreaded updating my blog. I've even masked the observation of it underneath paragraphs of love hoping my readers will be bored by the time they get to it. This week and next will prove to be a very, very emotional week, but I will share the news with you when I can. I gave birth days ago, now I'm just waiting to see if it's a healthy boy or girl. This is the moment I've been waiting for. This is it...
I thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Then I went to Hampton University where, from day one, we (as in the student body) hugged. My sister went there as well so we even hugged! We were a family at HU and families hug, we don't shake hands. Then I moved to New York where everyone suggested hugging is for friends, don't take it personal, its just business -- so I stopped hugging and strengthened my hand shake.
I revisited Steinbeck for a couple of years during my second stint in New York: Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden. No one hugged in a Steinbeck world, tough love is the foundation of working class American families. When Tommy returned home from prison after 4 years, his family was so happy to see him, but not one hug -- not one.
Bisous,
C. Madry
is how I began to present my valediction. It is ever present in every part of their culture as seen here with Michelle Obama and Carla Bruni. A handshake or offer of the hand seemed unapologetically American. Upon my return to America and the handshake, my brother, a new student of islam, taught me its considered disgusting to offer the right hand because "you wipe your ass with it". UGH!!! Sad but he had a point.
Then I saw Larry David on Joy Behar and he reinforced this notion, he said: "there was no hugging (60 years ago)! Only watching."
So I've asked the question: do I know what intimacy or love is and better yet, am I vulnerable enough in my life to love someone? I am the first to admit I have not been in a committed relationship in years, yet in my work I seek to create fashion art with the most vulnerable photographers and models I can find.
My New Golden Rule: Love does conquer all
I don't care what Harvie Krumpet or some of my friends have advised. It is the golden rule and comes before #586, so take that Harvie. Love is the panacea and upon it I will build my character and work through my maladies.
Maybe I've been listening to far too much Corneille on my iPOD lately. I mean, how can you not feel great after knowing his story and hearing the song "A man of this world" or "Back to life"? Or maybe Hollywood just restored a part of my soul, the part that lost this basic concept when I first had my heart broken. I just saw 'Seven Pounds' and wow, what a great movie. The similarities between the character Emily and myself are uncanny. I couldn't stop crying!
I shared a story with a friend the other day, about the kindness of others and how it has been my mission since the days of going to iPOP to do something nice for someone every single day. What inspired me? After chemo, there are several side effects beyond the typical loss of hair and digestive issues so commonly discussed. One of those is temperature, you're always cold. I mean, it feels like you're walking around in a freezer -- and I had my chemo in the summer. There was a particular lady who was going through her 5th round of chemo and, poor thing, she would sit in her wheelchair with 2 blankets, sweaters, sweats, her chemo cap and furry boots or slippers. While she waited, she would sometimes request to wait outside of the hospital -- in 90 degrees. Yes, that cold. Anyway, there is a group of knitters who do about 15 knit caps every week and sit them in the computer/game room with a note attached. It simply says this:
Head Huggers
This cap was handmade just for you.
Head Huggers is a network of people from ages 10-something to 90-something
who knit, crochet and sew chemo caps to give away. It really is just that
simple.
This cap was handmade just for you.
Head Huggers is a network of people from ages 10-something to 90-something
who knit, crochet and sew chemo caps to give away. It really is just that
simple.
That simple gesture touched my heart. Even after I took a hat to wear, whenever I would sit in that room, I would look at the hats and smile. I took the tag off of mine and wrote on the back: "Remember, do something nice for someone today" and placed it on my storage cabin in my bathroom. That way I'm reminded to do so in the morning when I start my day. Trust me, it's much easier said than done, especially when you have friends as giving as mine.
I also realized I've never been in love. I thought I had, but I now know there is a big difference between infatuation or the idea of being with someone, than really loving someone for who they are and because you have it in your heart to give. The vulnerability it takes to love is something I've lacked for a while now, but I'm working on it. I think if I do, it will manifest itself in my work as well. There is one person in my life who I have consistently been vulnerable with and the reward has been so much greater than I could have imagined. The reward wasn't tangible, the reward was the act of showing up in our friendship. I believe it has been the source of my sudden motivation to jump back into photo shoots. So I will begin to work again, work as in styling, and that will be my litmus test. Look out for the launch of my site again by late spring 2010 and you be the judge.
I had my 90 day post-transplant tests taken last Thursday, on day 91. I didn't make it my status on fb or send out a "Pay attention to me!" email or blog because I still need some loner time to digest what the doctors are about to tell me. I'm so anxious and have dreaded updating my blog. I've even masked the observation of it underneath paragraphs of love hoping my readers will be bored by the time they get to it. This week and next will prove to be a very, very emotional week, but I will share the news with you when I can. I gave birth days ago, now I'm just waiting to see if it's a healthy boy or girl. This is the moment I've been waiting for. This is it...
I thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Dream what you want to dream
Day 80
1 British pound = 1.589 U.S. dollars
Dropping steadily and counting. I'm praying for a miracle before I get to Europe because quite frankly, until I pull a Gisele (and only get paid in euros) and while I still make money in us dollars, the euro scares me. For now I'll take 1.589 from the U.K., the best I've seen in a very long time.
“Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.”
You didn't think this was a blog on economics did you? No it is not. In fact, it's as the title dictates. It's about following your dreams. People either love me or don't know me (and you can quote me on that one). I believe the reason why is because I am a dreamer and I have a way of making my dreams come true. I am a gypsy and I go wherever it is I want to go. I don't listen to what someone elses idea of what my dreams should be and I define my own happiness. Manolo Blahnik does not bring me happiness, but Levi Strauss does. Okay, so do my Choos. Buying a house is not the all American dream to me but having a female president is (perhaps Michelle or Hilary in 2016?). A carnival cruise is not my idea of a vacation but traveling to Singapore one day to go shopping for a killer pair of jeans is - to me. Define your own happiness.
I'm no different than you and whatever dreams that you have are also possible. It's true and when we see those celebs or singers accepting those awards saying "if I can make it you can make it too", it's all true! You can be whatever it is that you want to be, or achieve whatever it is you wish to achieve, if you want it badly enough.
I used to dream one day... I have to pause for a moment to say this.
I used to dream one day of being cured of Sickle Cell Disease, and I might attain that dream. I almost lost my faith when I felt I was getting closer to death in 2006, this restored it. Me having Sickle Cell has been a constant variable in my life, as well as my families, for 33 years. My mom will no longer see me suffer, my siblings, family and friends don't have to accomodate to my illness any longer and I can live the life I was always destined to live. I have always wanted to live in Europe, in addition to attending a top school recognized throughout the world, and the very same year I am to be cured is the same year I am set to achieve both of those dreams as well. I am so very grateful for all these things. My dreams do not consist of fame or fortune, but they are just as important to me as someone with those
aspirations. And I am telling you, if all these things can happen for me, anything you desire can happen for you as well.
Believe in yourself, but most importantly, trust your instincts and always stay true to whoever it is that you really are. Continue to keep positive people around you that support your aspirations and things will work out in the end. Just be careful what you wish for.
I'm telling you, I know this much to be true. Just look at my story.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
C. Madry
1 British pound = 1.589 U.S. dollars
Dropping steadily and counting. I'm praying for a miracle before I get to Europe because quite frankly, until I pull a Gisele (and only get paid in euros) and while I still make money in us dollars, the euro scares me. For now I'll take 1.589 from the U.K., the best I've seen in a very long time.
“Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.”
You didn't think this was a blog on economics did you? No it is not. In fact, it's as the title dictates. It's about following your dreams. People either love me or don't know me (and you can quote me on that one). I believe the reason why is because I am a dreamer and I have a way of making my dreams come true. I am a gypsy and I go wherever it is I want to go. I don't listen to what someone elses idea of what my dreams should be and I define my own happiness. Manolo Blahnik does not bring me happiness, but Levi Strauss does. Okay, so do my Choos. Buying a house is not the all American dream to me but having a female president is (perhaps Michelle or Hilary in 2016?). A carnival cruise is not my idea of a vacation but traveling to Singapore one day to go shopping for a killer pair of jeans is - to me. Define your own happiness.
I'm no different than you and whatever dreams that you have are also possible. It's true and when we see those celebs or singers accepting those awards saying "if I can make it you can make it too", it's all true! You can be whatever it is that you want to be, or achieve whatever it is you wish to achieve, if you want it badly enough.
I used to dream one day... I have to pause for a moment to say this.
I used to dream one day of being cured of Sickle Cell Disease, and I might attain that dream. I almost lost my faith when I felt I was getting closer to death in 2006, this restored it. Me having Sickle Cell has been a constant variable in my life, as well as my families, for 33 years. My mom will no longer see me suffer, my siblings, family and friends don't have to accomodate to my illness any longer and I can live the life I was always destined to live. I have always wanted to live in Europe, in addition to attending a top school recognized throughout the world, and the very same year I am to be cured is the same year I am set to achieve both of those dreams as well. I am so very grateful for all these things. My dreams do not consist of fame or fortune, but they are just as important to me as someone with those
aspirations. And I am telling you, if all these things can happen for me, anything you desire can happen for you as well.
Believe in yourself, but most importantly, trust your instincts and always stay true to whoever it is that you really are. Continue to keep positive people around you that support your aspirations and things will work out in the end. Just be careful what you wish for.
I'm telling you, I know this much to be true. Just look at my story.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
C. Madry
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Lipstick on a pig
Last night in my dreams it's all I could think about for the title of this blog. McCain and Obama got in trouble for using it and so might I, but it fits. It seems a bit crass I know, but the expression means more than it's simple words. The term dates back for centuries and it means you can dress something up but it doesn't change what it is.
I went to New York for one day, this past Friday, to support my friend Ira-Sharay Kip and her play "Scribblin at the Automat". She's a director and many of our friends made arrangements to travel to New York on Friday and it seems we all immediately headed home. I was home by 6:00 the next morning. What a busy weekend this was for everyone!
My first hour in New York I felt terrible, my legs have a lot of pain. Some of the pain may be from the running so I stopped after two workouts, but that pain in addition to the leg pain I already had from the transplant is unyielding. Once I arrived in New York and did a walk-thru of Macy's Herald Square to check out the Rachel by Rachel Roy collection, I headed to Soho where I walked a few blocks to one of my favorite stores, French Connection. I felt downright exhausted but after finding the perfect dress Ira scooped me and we headed back to BK. By the time we got to the apartment in Brooklyn I tried to relax but just the air in New York makes you feel like you just drank 2 shots of espresso. My legs hurt so bad that I couldn't walk in my heels. The slight pressure on my legs from going down the stairs was almost debilitating. I didn't know how I was going to make it but when in doubt - fake it, so I popped an extra pain pill, threw on some red lipstick and off we went. The play was awesome but the company was even better. It's still showing in Brooklyn until Sunday so if you have the opportunity please support the arts and see the show:
We then headed to Tillman's for a reunion of friends and had a wonderful time. My poor friends, the menopausal mood swing kicked in when the host at Tillman's didn't allow us the seating I wanted. Well there's nothing like a 33 year old going through menopause to give you the Vulcan death stare. If looks could kill that guy could've dropped like a character in the Matrix being disconnected before their phone call. And the hot flashes! I must say that fall is the perfect time to go through something like this. The breeze is quite refreshing. I've digressed though...
Anyway the thought I wish to convey this week is this: don't let the looks fool you. Take off the wig, the lipstick and the pretty dress (not to mention the pain meds that give me a little relief ) and I'm a mess. Thank you for the kind words and the flattering compliments but as so many celebs say, "If you only knew what was under here!". I feel worse than Monique looks without spanx.
I have, however, committed to take it easy for the entire month of October and not push myself any further than my body will allow me to go. As wonderful as it was to see a few of the special people in my life and make a special appearance, I will have to disappear into obscurity again. Favor to ask: Someone have a skinny girl margarita waiting for me at the end of this?
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
C. Madry
I went to New York for one day, this past Friday, to support my friend Ira-Sharay Kip and her play "Scribblin at the Automat". She's a director and many of our friends made arrangements to travel to New York on Friday and it seems we all immediately headed home. I was home by 6:00 the next morning. What a busy weekend this was for everyone!
My first hour in New York I felt terrible, my legs have a lot of pain. Some of the pain may be from the running so I stopped after two workouts, but that pain in addition to the leg pain I already had from the transplant is unyielding. Once I arrived in New York and did a walk-thru of Macy's Herald Square to check out the Rachel by Rachel Roy collection, I headed to Soho where I walked a few blocks to one of my favorite stores, French Connection. I felt downright exhausted but after finding the perfect dress Ira scooped me and we headed back to BK. By the time we got to the apartment in Brooklyn I tried to relax but just the air in New York makes you feel like you just drank 2 shots of espresso. My legs hurt so bad that I couldn't walk in my heels. The slight pressure on my legs from going down the stairs was almost debilitating. I didn't know how I was going to make it but when in doubt - fake it, so I popped an extra pain pill, threw on some red lipstick and off we went. The play was awesome but the company was even better. It's still showing in Brooklyn until Sunday so if you have the opportunity please support the arts and see the show:
We then headed to Tillman's for a reunion of friends and had a wonderful time. My poor friends, the menopausal mood swing kicked in when the host at Tillman's didn't allow us the seating I wanted. Well there's nothing like a 33 year old going through menopause to give you the Vulcan death stare. If looks could kill that guy could've dropped like a character in the Matrix being disconnected before their phone call. And the hot flashes! I must say that fall is the perfect time to go through something like this. The breeze is quite refreshing. I've digressed though...
Anyway the thought I wish to convey this week is this: don't let the looks fool you. Take off the wig, the lipstick and the pretty dress (not to mention the pain meds that give me a little relief ) and I'm a mess. Thank you for the kind words and the flattering compliments but as so many celebs say, "If you only knew what was under here!". I feel worse than Monique looks without spanx.
I have, however, committed to take it easy for the entire month of October and not push myself any further than my body will allow me to go. As wonderful as it was to see a few of the special people in my life and make a special appearance, I will have to disappear into obscurity again. Favor to ask: Someone have a skinny girl margarita waiting for me at the end of this?
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
C. Madry
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Capital isness
Doc's 60-day prognosis: I'm 90% grafted to my brother's marrow.
"This is what it is with a capital isness."
I used to love GQ magazine. Anything to learn more about men -- real men. A lady like me doesn't mix well with boys. We're like oil and water, myspacers on facebook, Oprah and gravy. You get my point, the combination is not a good look. Then a good friend of mine told me "GQ" is for my gays but "Esquire" is for real men. I saw "the 66 men worth emulating list" on their website:
#14 Charles Barkley. For what he said to the cops.
#32 Nicolas Sarkozy. Cigar smoker, star-fucker, president.
While reading the list I couldn't stop laughing, or learning, and I immediately switched my subscription. 4 magazines in, I can't put it down.
I've read about Façonnable's new creative director, Eric Wright, a black man from San Francisco, how to order drinks over 4 hours (max at 5 if beer, 4 if anything mixed with tonic and only 2 if martinis) and why its still better to invest in crude oil and not alternative forms of energy. My personal opinion: any magazine with the 2010 E550 coupe on the back instead of Eva Longoria in false lashes gets my vote. Dude was right.
But no matter how many issues of Esquire or blogs on Thrillist I read, I'm still all woman. I'm still the simple yet complicated girl from Aberdeen who will wait for the booth to avoid the table, who will never really care for a Ben Stiller movie and who will try really hard to show you how effortless my lifestyle is. Some credit for knowing who I am? All of this to say that still, I will never know what it means to be a man.
Are you also one of those people that has wondered what something on the other side of the fence feels like? The rich versus the poor, the beauty versus the beast, the skinny versus the biggum. I used to wonder what it would be like to be healthy. To jog without going into crises. To not have to build up to it and just get out there and go. I drilled my sisters before the bone marrow transplant, asking "What will happen if you go jogging"? Like really, what's the worst thing that will happen? My sister Beth replied "Sports induced asthma?". We laughed - she can be a nut sometimes. Then I thought laugh all you want but in my 3 month window of being sickle cell free, I'm going jogging.
Well I had my catheter removed on Monday and doctors orders were to wait until it was removed to exercise. That only gives me 30 days. You understand that after 90 days is the real deal? I'll either keep producing my brothers marrow or I'll go back to producing mine. The catheter was in my chest for 60 days so that gives me 30 days to live Sickle Cell free and be able to exercise. The countdown began on September 24.
Monday. catheter. gone.
By Tuesday I was up and running (pardon the pun) and I think I discovered what it felt like to be normal. (Insert Rocky theme music) The first time I was so scared! But no crises, just really sore thighs. I'd cry if I wasn't so excited. And the music I'm listening to has me so hyped after these jogs I feel like I could do anything. (BTW, if you have not listened to Raekwon's Cuban Linx II yet go download it immediately). I can't believe this is what I've been missing my whole life, an ache or two in my thighs and my shins. It's so much simpler. All of this was worth it; the chemo, the first 3 weeks of physical hell, the emotional duress -- all of it was worth it for these moments of being normal. I can only pray with all my heart that this lasts forever and I'll be cured.
Then on Sunday I became too comfortable with this sense of normalcy and while we were filming for the documentary, I didn't wear my mask around my sis, who has been battling with a cold for several weeks. Now I feel awful. I thought I was being careful but when my immune system is this immature, it's difficult to adjust.
I did, however, receive permission to go back to work part-time so, in addition to my documentary project, I'll (hopefully) have something to be a part of again.
"I know these things don't come without a cost. I know that there's no insurance you can buy on this. I know how the thing that's restoring you can wind up killing you. ...How did all that get there? Then I remember. Got there because I'm alive again. Because I'm back in the tornado. Because this is what it is with a capital isness."
— PHILIP ROTH, The Human Stain
Read more: http://www.esquire.com/features/things-that-make-you-happy/philip-roth-human-stain-1009
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
"This is what it is with a capital isness."
I used to love GQ magazine. Anything to learn more about men -- real men. A lady like me doesn't mix well with boys. We're like oil and water, myspacers on facebook, Oprah and gravy. You get my point, the combination is not a good look. Then a good friend of mine told me "GQ" is for my gays but "Esquire" is for real men. I saw "the 66 men worth emulating list" on their website:
#14 Charles Barkley. For what he said to the cops.
#32 Nicolas Sarkozy. Cigar smoker, star-fucker, president.
While reading the list I couldn't stop laughing, or learning, and I immediately switched my subscription. 4 magazines in, I can't put it down.
I've read about Façonnable's new creative director, Eric Wright, a black man from San Francisco, how to order drinks over 4 hours (max at 5 if beer, 4 if anything mixed with tonic and only 2 if martinis) and why its still better to invest in crude oil and not alternative forms of energy. My personal opinion: any magazine with the 2010 E550 coupe on the back instead of Eva Longoria in false lashes gets my vote. Dude was right.
But no matter how many issues of Esquire or blogs on Thrillist I read, I'm still all woman. I'm still the simple yet complicated girl from Aberdeen who will wait for the booth to avoid the table, who will never really care for a Ben Stiller movie and who will try really hard to show you how effortless my lifestyle is. Some credit for knowing who I am? All of this to say that still, I will never know what it means to be a man.
Are you also one of those people that has wondered what something on the other side of the fence feels like? The rich versus the poor, the beauty versus the beast, the skinny versus the biggum. I used to wonder what it would be like to be healthy. To jog without going into crises. To not have to build up to it and just get out there and go. I drilled my sisters before the bone marrow transplant, asking "What will happen if you go jogging"? Like really, what's the worst thing that will happen? My sister Beth replied "Sports induced asthma?". We laughed - she can be a nut sometimes. Then I thought laugh all you want but in my 3 month window of being sickle cell free, I'm going jogging.
Well I had my catheter removed on Monday and doctors orders were to wait until it was removed to exercise. That only gives me 30 days. You understand that after 90 days is the real deal? I'll either keep producing my brothers marrow or I'll go back to producing mine. The catheter was in my chest for 60 days so that gives me 30 days to live Sickle Cell free and be able to exercise. The countdown began on September 24.
Monday. catheter. gone.
By Tuesday I was up and running (pardon the pun) and I think I discovered what it felt like to be normal. (Insert Rocky theme music) The first time I was so scared! But no crises, just really sore thighs. I'd cry if I wasn't so excited. And the music I'm listening to has me so hyped after these jogs I feel like I could do anything. (BTW, if you have not listened to Raekwon's Cuban Linx II yet go download it immediately). I can't believe this is what I've been missing my whole life, an ache or two in my thighs and my shins. It's so much simpler. All of this was worth it; the chemo, the first 3 weeks of physical hell, the emotional duress -- all of it was worth it for these moments of being normal. I can only pray with all my heart that this lasts forever and I'll be cured.
Then on Sunday I became too comfortable with this sense of normalcy and while we were filming for the documentary, I didn't wear my mask around my sis, who has been battling with a cold for several weeks. Now I feel awful. I thought I was being careful but when my immune system is this immature, it's difficult to adjust.
I did, however, receive permission to go back to work part-time so, in addition to my documentary project, I'll (hopefully) have something to be a part of again.
"I know these things don't come without a cost. I know that there's no insurance you can buy on this. I know how the thing that's restoring you can wind up killing you. ...How did all that get there? Then I remember. Got there because I'm alive again. Because I'm back in the tornado. Because this is what it is with a capital isness."
— PHILIP ROTH, The Human Stain
Read more: http://www.esquire.com/features/things-that-make-you-happy/philip-roth-human-stain-1009
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Choice Theory
To those who have shown their commitment to my well-being I say thank you.
Life is a blessing and usually wonderful but 2009 has been tough. I thrive on being happy, it just seems easier to be a half glass full kind of gal but this year is a challenge. I lost another amazing friend and brother, Ajile. I shared some of my fondest memories of Brooklyn and Manhattan with Ajile. He was my neighbor when I first moved to Brooklyn in 1999 and we have been friends ever since. He met my mother, my sisters and we share many of the same friends, some without knowing. We shared many passions in life and I pray that the creator had a surf board and a snow board waiting for him when he arrived on Friday.
Another kindred spirit,Nassan, passed away in February. Michael Jackson died. I was in denial all summer but reality struck and I finally cried. I'm premenopausal and the hot flashes suck. I'm a 25 year old in a 62 year old body. It just seems like 2009 is pecking at my soul.
But as with anything in life you have to fight back. Don't surrender to the unfairness that comes with life, surrender to love. So I've decided to spend 80% of my days exploring my passions and reinforcing the ideas of life being as fulfilling as you wish for it to be. The other 20 is spent watching the Young and the restless and eating (just ask my sister Beth).
I've done all my inspiration projects for A/W 09 and have fallen in love with fashion, yet again. I also realized I'm much more innovative in my thinking than I have been in my personal execution. Funny how people who are responsible for creating fashion looks can get lost in their favorite everyday jeans and tees. It's the never ending story but London get ready. I'm going to translate on the outside what I see myself as on the inside - unique, easy (like Sunday morning, not like the Kardashians) and free.
I also decided to listen to every loving or inspirational song I could get on my iPOD. The really loving ones that make you want to gag if you just had a bad day like "Nothing Really Matters" with Lauryn and D'Angelo, "By your side" by Sade or "Lifetime" by Maxwell - even Juicy by Notorious B.I.G. "Spread love, it's the Brooklyn way!" (That's for you Aj...)
Museums, fashion blogs, V, Dazed and Confused, overdosing on Michael Jackson and internet window shopping -- whatever it takes I'm getting back to myself or actually.....I'll be moving forward. Thought: why do people want to get back to themselves, shouldn't we want to constantly progress? I just have 4 months left in this program and then I'm free to return to the life I was summoned to live. Life is full of choices, will you fight and enjoy the life you were destined to live or roll over and let it get the best of you?
Next week look for an update on my progress. The blood test results come in regarding my 60 day prognosis next week.
For my loving brother, Ajile, and for all those we have lost this year:
Life is a blessing and usually wonderful but 2009 has been tough. I thrive on being happy, it just seems easier to be a half glass full kind of gal but this year is a challenge. I lost another amazing friend and brother, Ajile. I shared some of my fondest memories of Brooklyn and Manhattan with Ajile. He was my neighbor when I first moved to Brooklyn in 1999 and we have been friends ever since. He met my mother, my sisters and we share many of the same friends, some without knowing. We shared many passions in life and I pray that the creator had a surf board and a snow board waiting for him when he arrived on Friday.
Another kindred spirit,Nassan, passed away in February. Michael Jackson died. I was in denial all summer but reality struck and I finally cried. I'm premenopausal and the hot flashes suck. I'm a 25 year old in a 62 year old body. It just seems like 2009 is pecking at my soul.
But as with anything in life you have to fight back. Don't surrender to the unfairness that comes with life, surrender to love. So I've decided to spend 80% of my days exploring my passions and reinforcing the ideas of life being as fulfilling as you wish for it to be. The other 20 is spent watching the Young and the restless and eating (just ask my sister Beth).
I've done all my inspiration projects for A/W 09 and have fallen in love with fashion, yet again. I also realized I'm much more innovative in my thinking than I have been in my personal execution. Funny how people who are responsible for creating fashion looks can get lost in their favorite everyday jeans and tees. It's the never ending story but London get ready. I'm going to translate on the outside what I see myself as on the inside - unique, easy (like Sunday morning, not like the Kardashians) and free.
I also decided to listen to every loving or inspirational song I could get on my iPOD. The really loving ones that make you want to gag if you just had a bad day like "Nothing Really Matters" with Lauryn and D'Angelo, "By your side" by Sade or "Lifetime" by Maxwell - even Juicy by Notorious B.I.G. "Spread love, it's the Brooklyn way!" (That's for you Aj...)
Museums, fashion blogs, V, Dazed and Confused, overdosing on Michael Jackson and internet window shopping -- whatever it takes I'm getting back to myself or actually.....I'll be moving forward. Thought: why do people want to get back to themselves, shouldn't we want to constantly progress? I just have 4 months left in this program and then I'm free to return to the life I was summoned to live. Life is full of choices, will you fight and enjoy the life you were destined to live or roll over and let it get the best of you?
Next week look for an update on my progress. The blood test results come in regarding my 60 day prognosis next week.
For my loving brother, Ajile, and for all those we have lost this year:
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Back to my roots
I'm back and I'm feeling like myself again. Not really but no use in letting my temperamental ways get in the way of all the news and updates I have for my blog. After all, you can't visit.
My 30 day results came in a couple of weeks ago and declared I'm 78% grafted to my brothers marrow and my sickle cell production is diminishing. Next stop: 60 days. Remember the fight continues for at least 6 months to a year so I'm far from the finish line. I have been progressing so well that I will be released from the program early, next Thursday to be exact. That simply means that I don't have to report to iPOP any longer and will go to my doctor for regular check-ups.
In other news, I have been experiencing some pain in my legs, particularly from my hip bone to my knee bone. Originally I thought it was Sickle Cell pain but I found myself at day 35 thinking, I should be 70-100% grafted with my brothers marrow so why am I experiencing Sickle Cell pain. One of the nurses theories was that because Sicklers are so in tune with their bodies and hyper aware of pain that maybe it was just an assumption. I took an ibuprofen as suggested by my charge nurse which is usually my secret weapon in sickness but it did not work at all. After having to take stronger pain meds a couple of nights in a row, I decided to research a more homeopathic remedy and refer back to my great-grandmothers southern medicinal recipes.
Often as an African-American, especially living in Brooklyn for the past decade or traveling outside of the U.S., you feel a disconnect from your history. I was surrounded by Caribbeans, South Americans, Europeans and Africans who could name their past 5 generations of ancestors, if not more than that. Many African-Americans are 6-7 generations in America and were completely stripped of their history, culture or because of the separation of families during decades of slavery, can't even call by name their grandmother's grandmother. Here I am, with a great-grandmother that is 109 and still alive and I am not [fully] utilizing having her here, still with me, to teach me things that I can pass on to my own children. For example, when I was growing up, she made this salve for my joints when I had a crises from Sickle Cell -- and it worked. I always felt better. The main ingredient for the salve was what I thought she called "Polk salad".
Now if you're a true southerner you understand the concept of "Medicine men and women" found in the mountains and their secret recipes. Essentially many African-Americans have a connection to the south as those were the ports in which our African ancestors were brought, sold or escaped into the mountains with the natives. My great-grandmother's mom was Cherokee (natives from the South Carolina region) and her father was from Africa by way of England, so medicinal treatments were regarded highly in our family. For bone aches and pains we were to rub this "Polk salad" on the joints with the hands continuously. The hand being a carrier of energy and the salve having a calming effect. 
In my research I discovered it's actually called "Poke Sallit" spelled s-a-l-l-i-t so as not to motivate anyone to actually eat it. The poke weed plant is highly poisonous and should not be eaten, although in many southern traditions the plant is boiled from 4-7 times to remove toxins, fried in lard (Crisco), then eaten. I read that it was commonly referred to as the poor mans "mustard greens". While some chose to eat the poke weed plant, it was also used to make cough syrups and salves. I remember the salve having a delightful smell, though nothing too sweet like a honeysuckle but more like a prune or a ripened plum. So after a bit of research, I did discover a recipe:
Root of the poke weed
Clarified iodine (without the magenta color)
Oils (Eucalyptus)
Petrolatum or Beeswax
First you must wash the root, then chop it into small pieces, enough to fill up a jar. Add oils to the poke root, leaving it standing until it becomes a mush. Set it in a corner and forget it for a moon and a half (about 6 weeks). When the mush is strained, save the heavy liquid. Melt into it petrolatum or beeswax, and VOILA!
Now it is my goal to find this Poke Sallit and continue this tradition in my family. Whatever traditions or natural medicinal remedies you have in your family, please feel free to share your stories with me. Should you get to the poke weed plant first, please save me a batch!
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
My 30 day results came in a couple of weeks ago and declared I'm 78% grafted to my brothers marrow and my sickle cell production is diminishing. Next stop: 60 days. Remember the fight continues for at least 6 months to a year so I'm far from the finish line. I have been progressing so well that I will be released from the program early, next Thursday to be exact. That simply means that I don't have to report to iPOP any longer and will go to my doctor for regular check-ups.
In other news, I have been experiencing some pain in my legs, particularly from my hip bone to my knee bone. Originally I thought it was Sickle Cell pain but I found myself at day 35 thinking, I should be 70-100% grafted with my brothers marrow so why am I experiencing Sickle Cell pain. One of the nurses theories was that because Sicklers are so in tune with their bodies and hyper aware of pain that maybe it was just an assumption. I took an ibuprofen as suggested by my charge nurse which is usually my secret weapon in sickness but it did not work at all. After having to take stronger pain meds a couple of nights in a row, I decided to research a more homeopathic remedy and refer back to my great-grandmothers southern medicinal recipes.
Often as an African-American, especially living in Brooklyn for the past decade or traveling outside of the U.S., you feel a disconnect from your history. I was surrounded by Caribbeans, South Americans, Europeans and Africans who could name their past 5 generations of ancestors, if not more than that. Many African-Americans are 6-7 generations in America and were completely stripped of their history, culture or because of the separation of families during decades of slavery, can't even call by name their grandmother's grandmother. Here I am, with a great-grandmother that is 109 and still alive and I am not [fully] utilizing having her here, still with me, to teach me things that I can pass on to my own children. For example, when I was growing up, she made this salve for my joints when I had a crises from Sickle Cell -- and it worked. I always felt better. The main ingredient for the salve was what I thought she called "Polk salad".
Now if you're a true southerner you understand the concept of "Medicine men and women" found in the mountains and their secret recipes. Essentially many African-Americans have a connection to the south as those were the ports in which our African ancestors were brought, sold or escaped into the mountains with the natives. My great-grandmother's mom was Cherokee (natives from the South Carolina region) and her father was from Africa by way of England, so medicinal treatments were regarded highly in our family. For bone aches and pains we were to rub this "Polk salad" on the joints with the hands continuously. The hand being a carrier of energy and the salve having a calming effect. 
In my research I discovered it's actually called "Poke Sallit" spelled s-a-l-l-i-t so as not to motivate anyone to actually eat it. The poke weed plant is highly poisonous and should not be eaten, although in many southern traditions the plant is boiled from 4-7 times to remove toxins, fried in lard (Crisco), then eaten. I read that it was commonly referred to as the poor mans "mustard greens". While some chose to eat the poke weed plant, it was also used to make cough syrups and salves. I remember the salve having a delightful smell, though nothing too sweet like a honeysuckle but more like a prune or a ripened plum. So after a bit of research, I did discover a recipe:Root of the poke weed
Clarified iodine (without the magenta color)
Oils (Eucalyptus)
Petrolatum or Beeswax
First you must wash the root, then chop it into small pieces, enough to fill up a jar. Add oils to the poke root, leaving it standing until it becomes a mush. Set it in a corner and forget it for a moon and a half (about 6 weeks). When the mush is strained, save the heavy liquid. Melt into it petrolatum or beeswax, and VOILA!
Now it is my goal to find this Poke Sallit and continue this tradition in my family. Whatever traditions or natural medicinal remedies you have in your family, please feel free to share your stories with me. Should you get to the poke weed plant first, please save me a batch!
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Saturday, August 22, 2009
The Wild One
Recently you might have become acquainted with the newest Mastercard commercial featuring legends and their love affair with denim. The first shot is of Marlon Brando from the movie "The Wild One".
I was reminded of the classic line in which he's asked by Mildred's character "What are you rebelling against, Johnny?" His reply: "What do ya got?"
I'm feeling a bit rebellious lately. At first I mistook it for being sad and possibly even depressed but I refuse to succumb to an emotion like depression. It seems to be for the weak at heart and I'm a fighter. I think my support system has crumbled a bit and at first I became sad. Hey, we're six weeks in and people just forget about you or they speak to you as if you didn't just fight the hardest you've ever fought for your life and that the struggle is over. I'll go back to speaking to you like you're not even a human being. Yes, believe it, I have that kind of negative energy coming at me already.
Then again, those that do remain couldn't be better and I just decided that will be good enough. Things get emotionally difficult though. Physically I don't even look like a shadow of my former self, emotionally I am pushed to the depths of my core daily and spiritually my faith is constantly being tested. A 14-hour work day has nothing on this amount of stress. When BMT survivors are surveyed 3-5 years later and asked what their biggest obstacle was, a majority answered "emotional distress". After the worse vomitting bouts or Sickle Cell pain brought on by my chemo that I could experience in life, that says something about the depths of emotional distress, but again, I refuse to be defeated. As Kate Gosselin says, "I will not let them break me."
In other news, I finally met the young man with Sickle Cell Anemia that had his transplant before mine. As I stated before, he was doing very well and is 100% grafted 45 days post-transplant. Just as I was ready to tell you how amazing his experience has been, he returned to the clinic today quite sick and my heart goes out to him. Overall I think he'll do well and I will be writing more about his story in later blogs.
I will be taking a few weeks off from blogging. I am not in the state of mind to write and I'd like to gain some perspective on what I'm feeling and how to manage it better. I thank you for reading my blog. I've been consistently writing since February and experienced quite a range of emotions. I should return by September to bring you back into the loop and to explore my last days in the program, with September 24 being DAY 60 and my last day of reporting to iPOP.
Thank you for reading and enjoy the rest of your summer.
B. Regards,
Christina Madry
I was reminded of the classic line in which he's asked by Mildred's character "What are you rebelling against, Johnny?" His reply: "What do ya got?"
I'm feeling a bit rebellious lately. At first I mistook it for being sad and possibly even depressed but I refuse to succumb to an emotion like depression. It seems to be for the weak at heart and I'm a fighter. I think my support system has crumbled a bit and at first I became sad. Hey, we're six weeks in and people just forget about you or they speak to you as if you didn't just fight the hardest you've ever fought for your life and that the struggle is over. I'll go back to speaking to you like you're not even a human being. Yes, believe it, I have that kind of negative energy coming at me already.
Then again, those that do remain couldn't be better and I just decided that will be good enough. Things get emotionally difficult though. Physically I don't even look like a shadow of my former self, emotionally I am pushed to the depths of my core daily and spiritually my faith is constantly being tested. A 14-hour work day has nothing on this amount of stress. When BMT survivors are surveyed 3-5 years later and asked what their biggest obstacle was, a majority answered "emotional distress". After the worse vomitting bouts or Sickle Cell pain brought on by my chemo that I could experience in life, that says something about the depths of emotional distress, but again, I refuse to be defeated. As Kate Gosselin says, "I will not let them break me."
In other news, I finally met the young man with Sickle Cell Anemia that had his transplant before mine. As I stated before, he was doing very well and is 100% grafted 45 days post-transplant. Just as I was ready to tell you how amazing his experience has been, he returned to the clinic today quite sick and my heart goes out to him. Overall I think he'll do well and I will be writing more about his story in later blogs.
I will be taking a few weeks off from blogging. I am not in the state of mind to write and I'd like to gain some perspective on what I'm feeling and how to manage it better. I thank you for reading my blog. I've been consistently writing since February and experienced quite a range of emotions. I should return by September to bring you back into the loop and to explore my last days in the program, with September 24 being DAY 60 and my last day of reporting to iPOP.
Thank you for reading and enjoy the rest of your summer.
B. Regards,
Christina Madry
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Tuesdays with Amy
Yesterday was an amazing day. I made my entrance back into the world and experienced life again.
I began my day in iPOP around 9:30 am and the only news was regarding my magnesium levels being low, 1.2 after being 1.4 just yesterday. A safe range is between 1.3-2.0. I also had my stitches removed from my catheter site today. It completely skeeved me out. When they remove the actual catheter, which I hear they just pull out from my chest(OMG!) I am requesting a Xanax. My charge nurse told me I won't have to receive the bone marrow aspiration I was having anxiety about in the beginning of the process, the one that my brother had pre-transplant that is quite painful, so I have been getting off pretty easy without experiencing uncomfortable procedures and I'd like to keep it that way. After staying an extra hour in iPOP to receive magnesium intravenously, we left around 12:30.
Next we went to Whole Foods. Amy is addicted to Whole Foods. She goes everyday and it's become an inside joke that I find amusing. However she's so healthy, with the body of a goddess, you can't help but think the classic "Harry met Sally" quote: "I'll have whatever she's having." In keeping with my ungoddess-like physique, I of course indulged in one of my BMT cravings: rocky road ice cream on a waffle cone, but at least it was organic. Ha, that's funny - organic. I always seem to completely get it and fall short on execution BUT this time I think it's not completely in my control and I'll explain my theory.
The thing is, I not only received my appetite back, I have the oddest cravings for things I would never have eaten before. I'm crediting it to my brother's marrow. It's bizarre having someone else's concentrated blood flowing through your arteries and reacting to foods you never did previously or craving others like never before. I'm starting to receive complications or indications of graft versus host disease which my charge nurse explained is good. I don't want the disease but to show signs of it means my brother's marrow is attempting to graft and all signs of my own production of marrow are dissipating. If these food cravings and the symptoms of gvhd are real, then I am beginning to graft (produce) my brother's bone marrow.
After Whole Foods we returned to the house to regroup and then we decided to go out to the water, off the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. We ended up sitting on the boat and calling Amy's friend who is the captain. He decided it would be a perfect day to sail out for a couple of hours and was on his way to take us out into the Harbor. Dreams do come true! We were even courted by a fellow sailing comrade docked close to us to go out with him. He said he just couldn't resist the opportunity to have beautiful women join him on the water. Ummm I don't think he got the memo that I'm bald as a cancer patient with a catheter hanging out of my chest? Men, I just completely adore them. That made my month.
Well you can't have a sail trip without snacks so we returned to -- you guessed it: Whole Foods. Amy is also quite gregarious around these parts so after 2 lengthy conversations with comrades while snacking on 2 chocolate chip pecan cookies and other various samples from the hot bar, we decided to check out. The cashier immediately said: "Weren't you just here?" I thought that was absolutely hilarious.
We returned to the water to wait for the Captain to begin our sojourn. Unfortunately, by the time Michael arrived there was a monsoon and it was the end of our sailing trip. We did end up having the best conversation regarding my astrological and rising sign. The Captain appeared to be well informed on the subject matter because he was an "official astrologer". I can't wait to discover more of Captain Michael's predictions of my future while sailing the Chesapeake Bay.
Next we decided to surprise our friend Carlos with a visit. I haven't seen Carlos since my birthday so it was great to receive a hug from him. We chatted about his newest hobby, golf, and how Amy's finally going to start hitting the range with him like she said she would. That's two hobbies she re-committed to within the hour. Rule #1: Be a better you.
Lastly, we ended our evening in the car chatting with Ira on speakerphone about an upcoming art exhibit and her most recent trip to Puerto Rico. I ended my day as good as I began it -- filled with joy in my heart, sharing stories and laughter with good friends from both near and far.
Since this Sunday is my Day 30 post-transplant, beginning next week I will only have to go to iPOP on Monday, Wednesday and Friday while having my weekends off. I am so thankful for my Tuesdays with Amy and (sometimes Ira) and want to specifically thank Amy for helping me make it through such a tumultuous period of my life.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
C. Madry
I began my day in iPOP around 9:30 am and the only news was regarding my magnesium levels being low, 1.2 after being 1.4 just yesterday. A safe range is between 1.3-2.0. I also had my stitches removed from my catheter site today. It completely skeeved me out. When they remove the actual catheter, which I hear they just pull out from my chest(OMG!) I am requesting a Xanax. My charge nurse told me I won't have to receive the bone marrow aspiration I was having anxiety about in the beginning of the process, the one that my brother had pre-transplant that is quite painful, so I have been getting off pretty easy without experiencing uncomfortable procedures and I'd like to keep it that way. After staying an extra hour in iPOP to receive magnesium intravenously, we left around 12:30.
Next we went to Whole Foods. Amy is addicted to Whole Foods. She goes everyday and it's become an inside joke that I find amusing. However she's so healthy, with the body of a goddess, you can't help but think the classic "Harry met Sally" quote: "I'll have whatever she's having." In keeping with my ungoddess-like physique, I of course indulged in one of my BMT cravings: rocky road ice cream on a waffle cone, but at least it was organic. Ha, that's funny - organic. I always seem to completely get it and fall short on execution BUT this time I think it's not completely in my control and I'll explain my theory.
The thing is, I not only received my appetite back, I have the oddest cravings for things I would never have eaten before. I'm crediting it to my brother's marrow. It's bizarre having someone else's concentrated blood flowing through your arteries and reacting to foods you never did previously or craving others like never before. I'm starting to receive complications or indications of graft versus host disease which my charge nurse explained is good. I don't want the disease but to show signs of it means my brother's marrow is attempting to graft and all signs of my own production of marrow are dissipating. If these food cravings and the symptoms of gvhd are real, then I am beginning to graft (produce) my brother's bone marrow.
After Whole Foods we returned to the house to regroup and then we decided to go out to the water, off the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. We ended up sitting on the boat and calling Amy's friend who is the captain. He decided it would be a perfect day to sail out for a couple of hours and was on his way to take us out into the Harbor. Dreams do come true! We were even courted by a fellow sailing comrade docked close to us to go out with him. He said he just couldn't resist the opportunity to have beautiful women join him on the water. Ummm I don't think he got the memo that I'm bald as a cancer patient with a catheter hanging out of my chest? Men, I just completely adore them. That made my month.
Well you can't have a sail trip without snacks so we returned to -- you guessed it: Whole Foods. Amy is also quite gregarious around these parts so after 2 lengthy conversations with comrades while snacking on 2 chocolate chip pecan cookies and other various samples from the hot bar, we decided to check out. The cashier immediately said: "Weren't you just here?" I thought that was absolutely hilarious.
We returned to the water to wait for the Captain to begin our sojourn. Unfortunately, by the time Michael arrived there was a monsoon and it was the end of our sailing trip. We did end up having the best conversation regarding my astrological and rising sign. The Captain appeared to be well informed on the subject matter because he was an "official astrologer". I can't wait to discover more of Captain Michael's predictions of my future while sailing the Chesapeake Bay.
Next we decided to surprise our friend Carlos with a visit. I haven't seen Carlos since my birthday so it was great to receive a hug from him. We chatted about his newest hobby, golf, and how Amy's finally going to start hitting the range with him like she said she would. That's two hobbies she re-committed to within the hour. Rule #1: Be a better you.
Lastly, we ended our evening in the car chatting with Ira on speakerphone about an upcoming art exhibit and her most recent trip to Puerto Rico. I ended my day as good as I began it -- filled with joy in my heart, sharing stories and laughter with good friends from both near and far.
Since this Sunday is my Day 30 post-transplant, beginning next week I will only have to go to iPOP on Monday, Wednesday and Friday while having my weekends off. I am so thankful for my Tuesdays with Amy and (sometimes Ira) and want to specifically thank Amy for helping me make it through such a tumultuous period of my life.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
C. Madry
Saturday, August 15, 2009
On the seventh day he rested...
Okay I get it now. Ladies you know how men get sensitive when they go bald and we don't understand it because we truly don't care? Well on Day 20 I began to lose my hair and I get it now. It's about the fact that your option of wearing any hair style other than a baldy is taken away, right fellas? I will never laugh at a "I had no choice but to go bald" story again.
Yes I buzzed my hair already but whatever hair was left on my body began to simply rub off. It's so unjust! I just began to say that I made it 4 weeks past chemo and never lost my hair. Apparently it likes to take it's time. I had just purchased a new bottle of shaving cream too. Just bad timing all around, but I'm holding out for my eyebrows and eyelashes. Please pray for me that I get to at least keep them. (Yes I did just ask you to pray for the safety of my eyebrows and eyelashes, it's that serious.)
Let the hair on my head rub away, I actually like my look and I'll save on painful hair removal techniques on various parts of the body for the next several months. Apparently bald is the new weave. Ladies take those pieces out! Fake is so 2008. (But if it's yours...do you.)
In other news, I finally get a day off tomorrow. I get to have one day of my Sunday ritual: Big breakfast including a homemade waffle with strawberries and turkey bacon with freshly brewed coffee, CBS Sunday morning at 9 am followed by Meet the Press. I'm sure MTP will only talk about this week's activities revolving around Obama's Health care town hall meetings. Those crazy republicans make good television. A brief break after that and soon that will be followed by football for the rest of the day and then Mad Men before bed -- but not yet with the football.
Tomorrow is, however, the premiere of "Mad Men", one of the most brilliant shows on television. If you've missed it, we're at Season 3. Good luck catching up. It's one of those shows that helps you channel your old soul but be ever so grateful you live in the 21st century. I know many people who are old souls, they love old music and tradition, clothes and culture. They would love this show but possibly change their mind about "wanting to have lived in the 60's".
When you watch Mad Men, you finally understand what it was like for your mother/father and grandmother/grandfather in the 60's, how New York businesses thrived, with only men working actual positions and women limited to secretary duties. How families actually functioned and how it was truly a man's world. Forget African-Americans, we were barely allowed to attend the same school as whites, let alone work on anything other than an elevator or behind a tea cart in New York. Remember, that was only 45 years ago in the U.S. I appreciate the civil rights and feminist movement 100 times more now that I watch that show. It's that real and that well written, directed and executed by the actors. I hope you check it out.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina
Yes I buzzed my hair already but whatever hair was left on my body began to simply rub off. It's so unjust! I just began to say that I made it 4 weeks past chemo and never lost my hair. Apparently it likes to take it's time. I had just purchased a new bottle of shaving cream too. Just bad timing all around, but I'm holding out for my eyebrows and eyelashes. Please pray for me that I get to at least keep them. (Yes I did just ask you to pray for the safety of my eyebrows and eyelashes, it's that serious.)
Let the hair on my head rub away, I actually like my look and I'll save on painful hair removal techniques on various parts of the body for the next several months. Apparently bald is the new weave. Ladies take those pieces out! Fake is so 2008. (But if it's yours...do you.)
In other news, I finally get a day off tomorrow. I get to have one day of my Sunday ritual: Big breakfast including a homemade waffle with strawberries and turkey bacon with freshly brewed coffee, CBS Sunday morning at 9 am followed by Meet the Press. I'm sure MTP will only talk about this week's activities revolving around Obama's Health care town hall meetings. Those crazy republicans make good television. A brief break after that and soon that will be followed by football for the rest of the day and then Mad Men before bed -- but not yet with the football.
Tomorrow is, however, the premiere of "Mad Men", one of the most brilliant shows on television. If you've missed it, we're at Season 3. Good luck catching up. It's one of those shows that helps you channel your old soul but be ever so grateful you live in the 21st century. I know many people who are old souls, they love old music and tradition, clothes and culture. They would love this show but possibly change their mind about "wanting to have lived in the 60's".
When you watch Mad Men, you finally understand what it was like for your mother/father and grandmother/grandfather in the 60's, how New York businesses thrived, with only men working actual positions and women limited to secretary duties. How families actually functioned and how it was truly a man's world. Forget African-Americans, we were barely allowed to attend the same school as whites, let alone work on anything other than an elevator or behind a tea cart in New York. Remember, that was only 45 years ago in the U.S. I appreciate the civil rights and feminist movement 100 times more now that I watch that show. It's that real and that well written, directed and executed by the actors. I hope you check it out.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Day 20: To Graft or not to Graft?
Today I met with Dr. Brodsky and he updated me on my progress. I haven't seen him since my chemotherapy as he has been away for a couple of weeks. He advised that I am progressing well and all of my ailments are to be expected from my medication, Prograf. The medicine is self-explanatory. I will take it for at least 6 months to a year in order to facilitate grafting my brother's marrow 100% but while I'm at 100% it will prevent me from obtaining graft v. host disease. Still Prograf's the reason for my low magnesium levels and various other side effects.
I had a test earlier this week to test my hemoglobin levels. I believed the test would evaluate how much of my brother's marrow is grafting and how much of my own Sickle Cells are diminishing. Apparently, I'm at 50%. Dr. Brodsky believed that to be irrelevant today because, well... I have to explain something first:
People who carry Sickle Cell Trait have an S and an A chromosone or SA. (Approximately 2.5 million people in America carry Sickle Cell Trait.) If two people that have trait get together to procreate, their childs odds of getting SS or Sickle Cell Anemia are at 25%. My mother was not aware that she was a Sickle Cell Trait carrier until I was diagnosed at 6 months with the disease but my father did know he was. Please get tested if you don't know if you are or are not a trait carrier. (Approximately 80,00 people in the U.S. have Sickle Cell Anemia and about 1,000 babies are born each year with the disease.) Example:
Mother: SA (Sickle Cell Trait Carrier)
Father: SA (Sickle Cell Trait Carrier)
Child #1: S from Mother and S from Father = SS (Sickle Cell Anemia)
Child #2: S from Mother and A from Father = SA (Sickle Cell Trait)
Child #3: A from Mother and S from Father = SA (Sickle Cell Trait)
Child #4: A from Mother and A from Father = AA (Normal Adult Hemoglobin)
My brother is SA (he has the trait) and I am SS, so for me to be showing at 50% it could be my own hemoglobin and reflect me not grafting my brother's marrow or it could be that I am grafting my brother's marrow. They will perform another test next week to see if the 50% cells are male or female. AH HA! Science is brilliant. I think I explained that so you could understand it. Genetics are difficult to explain but somehow my 7th grade teacher made it seem so easy.
Dr. Brodsky and I were also able to discuss other people joining the trial at Hopkins this year. Currently there are four of us. The gentleman that started two weeks before me is 100% grafted. Great news! His donor was only a 50% match but still it's not an exact science, so that's not a guarantee I will be at 100% in 2 weeks. I, and the team, are optimistic. I will be able to report my progress at 3O days in about two weeks.
But I digressed...there are 3 or 4 more people to join the study before the end of the year. It's sad because there should be more of us -- didn't you just read there are over 80,000 people afflicted with Sickle Cell Anemia in the U.S. alone? Guess what the main problem is? Health insurance! Dr. Brodsky said he is receiving many recommendations from doctors for patients who NEED to be in this program. People who are quite ill from this disease but you know why Hopkins can't accept them? No insurance or they're on State Medicaid which is not good in the state of Maryland. How sad is that? The #1 hospital in the U.S. with a cure for Sickle Cell Anemia that can't accept patients who are practically dying from the disease over health insurance. It speaks volumes to the repairs that need to be fixed in our health care system and I hope a lot more people become proactive in voicing the need for an overhaul of our medical insurance in the U.S. Please support Obama's fight for universal health care for ALL Americans.
Additionally, please spread the word. If you know of someone, or have a family member or a friend of a friend with the disease who is interested in entering the trial, please provide them with my personal information and I will be there to provide them with information to the program. They should have medical insurance and be able to live within 30-45 minutes of Johns Hopkins in Baltimore for 3-6 months with a care provider.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
I had a test earlier this week to test my hemoglobin levels. I believed the test would evaluate how much of my brother's marrow is grafting and how much of my own Sickle Cells are diminishing. Apparently, I'm at 50%. Dr. Brodsky believed that to be irrelevant today because, well... I have to explain something first:
People who carry Sickle Cell Trait have an S and an A chromosone or SA. (Approximately 2.5 million people in America carry Sickle Cell Trait.) If two people that have trait get together to procreate, their childs odds of getting SS or Sickle Cell Anemia are at 25%. My mother was not aware that she was a Sickle Cell Trait carrier until I was diagnosed at 6 months with the disease but my father did know he was. Please get tested if you don't know if you are or are not a trait carrier. (Approximately 80,00 people in the U.S. have Sickle Cell Anemia and about 1,000 babies are born each year with the disease.) Example:
Mother: SA (Sickle Cell Trait Carrier)
Father: SA (Sickle Cell Trait Carrier)
Child #1: S from Mother and S from Father = SS (Sickle Cell Anemia)
Child #2: S from Mother and A from Father = SA (Sickle Cell Trait)
Child #3: A from Mother and S from Father = SA (Sickle Cell Trait)
Child #4: A from Mother and A from Father = AA (Normal Adult Hemoglobin)
My brother is SA (he has the trait) and I am SS, so for me to be showing at 50% it could be my own hemoglobin and reflect me not grafting my brother's marrow or it could be that I am grafting my brother's marrow. They will perform another test next week to see if the 50% cells are male or female. AH HA! Science is brilliant. I think I explained that so you could understand it. Genetics are difficult to explain but somehow my 7th grade teacher made it seem so easy.
Dr. Brodsky and I were also able to discuss other people joining the trial at Hopkins this year. Currently there are four of us. The gentleman that started two weeks before me is 100% grafted. Great news! His donor was only a 50% match but still it's not an exact science, so that's not a guarantee I will be at 100% in 2 weeks. I, and the team, are optimistic. I will be able to report my progress at 3O days in about two weeks.
But I digressed...there are 3 or 4 more people to join the study before the end of the year. It's sad because there should be more of us -- didn't you just read there are over 80,000 people afflicted with Sickle Cell Anemia in the U.S. alone? Guess what the main problem is? Health insurance! Dr. Brodsky said he is receiving many recommendations from doctors for patients who NEED to be in this program. People who are quite ill from this disease but you know why Hopkins can't accept them? No insurance or they're on State Medicaid which is not good in the state of Maryland. How sad is that? The #1 hospital in the U.S. with a cure for Sickle Cell Anemia that can't accept patients who are practically dying from the disease over health insurance. It speaks volumes to the repairs that need to be fixed in our health care system and I hope a lot more people become proactive in voicing the need for an overhaul of our medical insurance in the U.S. Please support Obama's fight for universal health care for ALL Americans.
Additionally, please spread the word. If you know of someone, or have a family member or a friend of a friend with the disease who is interested in entering the trial, please provide them with my personal information and I will be there to provide them with information to the program. They should have medical insurance and be able to live within 30-45 minutes of Johns Hopkins in Baltimore for 3-6 months with a care provider.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Great News
I started documenting the process on video camera. A little late but what I haven't documented, I have pictures of. Please look back on my Day 0 entry for images on transplant day.
It's interesting recording the process. My hope is to create a documentary and bring awareness to the community afflicted with Sickle Cell Anemia. I went into this process mostly blind although I felt I researched the subject well. You really have no idea what you're walking into and to physically see it might help. It might hurt as well but the objective is to keep those interested in joining this transplant trial informed. So friends don't be shy when you see me coming with the camera. Know it's for a great cause.
I also believe a good support system is vital to making it through this. I think of my recent progress and credit it to the positive energy that is constantly coming at me. That and watermelon. I am absolutely in love with watermelon. It has helped me through the nausea and helped me get rid of that awful chemo taste. Sweet sweet watermelon, I will never forget how I regained my sense of taste, even after my experience in Europe a few months back, in the summer of 2009.
My white blood cell counts have drastically improved. They went from 520 on Monday (remember a safe level being between 4500-11,500) to 12,500 yesterday, back down to 6,500 today. The reason for the drastic changes? Initially the BMT process drops your white blood cell counts, white blood cells being what protect you from infection, hence the need for my anti-viral and anti-biotic medication. They started me on a white blood cell growth factor shot (quite painful) which I took subcutaneously (shot in back of arm, stomach or thighs) for 2 weeks. Suddenly when my white blood cell counts jump, I discontinued the shot. Now I am waiting for my natural immune system to take over and level off the number. I no longer have to wear the 3M mask but I do still have to wear a mask and stay isolated so as not to subject myself to lots of germs. The difference being quite substantial.
Overall this week I've made a lot of progress but I still have an issue with simple things like writing and other trivial tasks, something I expect should be resolved once I gain my strength back. I'm holding steady at 118, down 12 lbs., so I don't expect to be myself anytime soon.
More great news: I got accepted to Central Saint Martin's college of Art & Design in London, the Harvard of Fashion Schools with such alum as John Galliano, Zac Posen, Hussein Chalayan, Stella McCartney, M.I.A., Alexander McQueen, Phoebe Philo and now...Christina Madry? I worked so hard this year to get accepted into their masters of arts program and couldn't be happier. The program starts in January so I have a goal of being cured and somewhat back to my healthy self by December. This year definitely represents change for me and I am so excited about what the future will bring in 2010. (Hopefully lots of my Paris, New York and Maryland peeps visiting me in Londontown. :0)
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
It's interesting recording the process. My hope is to create a documentary and bring awareness to the community afflicted with Sickle Cell Anemia. I went into this process mostly blind although I felt I researched the subject well. You really have no idea what you're walking into and to physically see it might help. It might hurt as well but the objective is to keep those interested in joining this transplant trial informed. So friends don't be shy when you see me coming with the camera. Know it's for a great cause.
I also believe a good support system is vital to making it through this. I think of my recent progress and credit it to the positive energy that is constantly coming at me. That and watermelon. I am absolutely in love with watermelon. It has helped me through the nausea and helped me get rid of that awful chemo taste. Sweet sweet watermelon, I will never forget how I regained my sense of taste, even after my experience in Europe a few months back, in the summer of 2009.
My white blood cell counts have drastically improved. They went from 520 on Monday (remember a safe level being between 4500-11,500) to 12,500 yesterday, back down to 6,500 today. The reason for the drastic changes? Initially the BMT process drops your white blood cell counts, white blood cells being what protect you from infection, hence the need for my anti-viral and anti-biotic medication. They started me on a white blood cell growth factor shot (quite painful) which I took subcutaneously (shot in back of arm, stomach or thighs) for 2 weeks. Suddenly when my white blood cell counts jump, I discontinued the shot. Now I am waiting for my natural immune system to take over and level off the number. I no longer have to wear the 3M mask but I do still have to wear a mask and stay isolated so as not to subject myself to lots of germs. The difference being quite substantial.
Overall this week I've made a lot of progress but I still have an issue with simple things like writing and other trivial tasks, something I expect should be resolved once I gain my strength back. I'm holding steady at 118, down 12 lbs., so I don't expect to be myself anytime soon.
More great news: I got accepted to Central Saint Martin's college of Art & Design in London, the Harvard of Fashion Schools with such alum as John Galliano, Zac Posen, Hussein Chalayan, Stella McCartney, M.I.A., Alexander McQueen, Phoebe Philo and now...Christina Madry? I worked so hard this year to get accepted into their masters of arts program and couldn't be happier. The program starts in January so I have a goal of being cured and somewhat back to my healthy self by December. This year definitely represents change for me and I am so excited about what the future will bring in 2010. (Hopefully lots of my Paris, New York and Maryland peeps visiting me in Londontown. :0)
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
"I can be light on my feet"
DAY 12
Yesterday I tap danced in the kitchen.
My friend and caregiver told me as she was reading my blog, she noticed that my last couple of entries started with "Today was bad." "Today sucked." "Today was difficult." It's funny now, but at the time it was how I felt. I'm not going to lie to you and seem stronger than I actually am.
I'm feeling much better today and found myself dancing in the kitchen, motivated from my most recent obsession with the movie "The Notebook". The part where Ryan Goslings character "Noah" is telling Rachel McAdams Character "Ally" how he can be "light on his feet" followed by an impromptu tap dance. How he could be pensive or funny, ... smart, superstitious, brave, but he was drawn to her and had to be with her. I love that movie. Today I felt I could be light on my feet so I did an impromptu tap dance. Life imitating art you say? Just trying to lighten up and have some fun -- life had been tres difficile lately. I deserve a whimsical moment.
So I am feeling better. Annoyed by things still but I won't complain. I got in a good nap, 6 hours of sleep and no nausea or vomiting. I even have a little appetite and am back up 2 lbs to 119. I'm taking vitamins and moment by moment am regaining my strength. All in all, that's a good day.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Yesterday I tap danced in the kitchen.
My friend and caregiver told me as she was reading my blog, she noticed that my last couple of entries started with "Today was bad." "Today sucked." "Today was difficult." It's funny now, but at the time it was how I felt. I'm not going to lie to you and seem stronger than I actually am.
I'm feeling much better today and found myself dancing in the kitchen, motivated from my most recent obsession with the movie "The Notebook". The part where Ryan Goslings character "Noah" is telling Rachel McAdams Character "Ally" how he can be "light on his feet" followed by an impromptu tap dance. How he could be pensive or funny, ... smart, superstitious, brave, but he was drawn to her and had to be with her. I love that movie. Today I felt I could be light on my feet so I did an impromptu tap dance. Life imitating art you say? Just trying to lighten up and have some fun -- life had been tres difficile lately. I deserve a whimsical moment.
So I am feeling better. Annoyed by things still but I won't complain. I got in a good nap, 6 hours of sleep and no nausea or vomiting. I even have a little appetite and am back up 2 lbs to 119. I'm taking vitamins and moment by moment am regaining my strength. All in all, that's a good day.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Let go (and let God have his way)
Today I'm out of motivation. I'm taking up to 8-9 pills 3x's a day, running on 4 hours of sleep a day (if I'm lucky) and am down 13 lbs weighing in at 118. The last time I saw that number was freshman year in college circa 1994. 15 years later I stand in the mirror and feel the slimness of my thighs watching myself wither away while I contemplate my most recent decision to change my life and cure my SCA.
Despite my attitude everything is going well. My counts are as they should be and I've only had one scare but nothing two Benadryl couldn't fix. My mom is listening to some altruistic original southern gospel on the way to iPOP this Sunday am. At first its annoying but then as if on que, a song called "Let Go (and let God have its way) comes on. The same line repeated over and over with a soulful falsetto over the chorus. It's resounding. I just need to stop reflecting on all the bad things and focus on the prize. Remember Logan, whatever your motivation to do this, focus on that. 10 weeks and counting...
I'm at Day 9 post transplant and I still have to commute to iPOP everyday to have blood drawn, at least until day 30, then I might get a day off. I enter the clinic and am weighed. Everyday it's a pound less and my mom is starting to freak. Today I'm up a pound! 119! She blames it on my excessive clothes but really I think I'm regaining my appetite. I then have my blood pressure, temperature and pulse ox taken. Blood pressure is taken while seated and while standing. Next I have blood drawn, through my catheter of course -- thank GOD for small favors. Then I wait for 2-3 hours until my results come in, today my magnesium and white blood cell counts are low. My white blood cell counts will continue to drop, even until 0 (with 4,500-10,000 being normal) so I must wear my mask at all times. I look like Hannibal Lecter in this thing but I'll deal. Now is not the time for vanity.
Good news overall and thank you to everyone for your words of encouragement, prayers and positive thoughts or energy. I read a quote today that resonated with me and I wish to share: “I've heard claims that we can wish our way to perfect, permanent wellness, but I haven't seen any proof of that. Sickness and death are part of life. But you can optimize your life. You can make progress as you strive toward perfection.”
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Despite my attitude everything is going well. My counts are as they should be and I've only had one scare but nothing two Benadryl couldn't fix. My mom is listening to some altruistic original southern gospel on the way to iPOP this Sunday am. At first its annoying but then as if on que, a song called "Let Go (and let God have its way) comes on. The same line repeated over and over with a soulful falsetto over the chorus. It's resounding. I just need to stop reflecting on all the bad things and focus on the prize. Remember Logan, whatever your motivation to do this, focus on that. 10 weeks and counting...
I'm at Day 9 post transplant and I still have to commute to iPOP everyday to have blood drawn, at least until day 30, then I might get a day off. I enter the clinic and am weighed. Everyday it's a pound less and my mom is starting to freak. Today I'm up a pound! 119! She blames it on my excessive clothes but really I think I'm regaining my appetite. I then have my blood pressure, temperature and pulse ox taken. Blood pressure is taken while seated and while standing. Next I have blood drawn, through my catheter of course -- thank GOD for small favors. Then I wait for 2-3 hours until my results come in, today my magnesium and white blood cell counts are low. My white blood cell counts will continue to drop, even until 0 (with 4,500-10,000 being normal) so I must wear my mask at all times. I look like Hannibal Lecter in this thing but I'll deal. Now is not the time for vanity.
Good news overall and thank you to everyone for your words of encouragement, prayers and positive thoughts or energy. I read a quote today that resonated with me and I wish to share: “I've heard claims that we can wish our way to perfect, permanent wellness, but I haven't seen any proof of that. Sickness and death are part of life. But you can optimize your life. You can make progress as you strive toward perfection.”
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Day 5 - Malaise
Today is a bad day. I can't imagine it being worse than today. I am full of regrets, sorrow and pity. I cry non-stop for the past 2 hours. Chemo was the past two days and this morning I am fully symptomatic: diarrhea, nausea...my scalp even hurts. The nurse tells me it is a sign that whatever I have left is going to fall out. She informs me of the image recovery center downstairs on level 1 and that the first buzz cut is free. She books me an appt. at 10:45.
I am to go home today but the medical staff forgets to give me a medicine intravenously earlier today. Now my mom and I have to sit until 6 (it takes 4 hours and the doctors didn't decide until 2). All seems better until about 3:30 pm. I've started at least 4 new meds today that include things to help me grow my brother's marrow within my own body and another med that helps me maintain a healthy white blood cell count. I'm so uncomfortable by 6:30 the team suggests I might as well stay an extra evening and begin outpatient Friday. They might as well keep an eye on me. My mom stays until 8:00 pm.
By 8:30 pm I'm all restless legs, body aches, hot skin and scalp, unable to sleep and without a medicine that can cure my ailments -- I'm G.I. Jane in the mirror, I'm incurable, I'm malaise. By 9:30 I call the funniest and most supportive friend I think will be available for a distraction but I get voice mail. By 10:00 I break down with the nurse. I just can't take this anymore and I can't believe what I've done to myself. 12:00 am: 2 back to back Roseanne episodes aren't distracting enough and I'm drowning in self-pity. 12:10 am I walk across the hall to the office to type my frustrations. I don't know if I can survive another day like this...
I am to go home today but the medical staff forgets to give me a medicine intravenously earlier today. Now my mom and I have to sit until 6 (it takes 4 hours and the doctors didn't decide until 2). All seems better until about 3:30 pm. I've started at least 4 new meds today that include things to help me grow my brother's marrow within my own body and another med that helps me maintain a healthy white blood cell count. I'm so uncomfortable by 6:30 the team suggests I might as well stay an extra evening and begin outpatient Friday. They might as well keep an eye on me. My mom stays until 8:00 pm.
By 8:30 pm I'm all restless legs, body aches, hot skin and scalp, unable to sleep and without a medicine that can cure my ailments -- I'm G.I. Jane in the mirror, I'm incurable, I'm malaise. By 9:30 I call the funniest and most supportive friend I think will be available for a distraction but I get voice mail. By 10:00 I break down with the nurse. I just can't take this anymore and I can't believe what I've done to myself. 12:00 am: 2 back to back Roseanne episodes aren't distracting enough and I'm drowning in self-pity. 12:10 am I walk across the hall to the office to type my frustrations. I don't know if I can survive another day like this...
Friday, July 24, 2009
Day 0
Transplant day is July 24! The nurses and staff have "Happy Bday" posted on my visual chart. It is a new day, like Patti LaBelle declares, and I can't get that tune out of my head. My brother was up by 5:30 and he was being drilled and mutilated for his bone marrow by 10:00. Luckily they knocked him out but my mom said he seemed like he was in a lot of pain. She leaves for the day to take care of him an d make sure he is taken care of.
They simply transfuse his marrow through my Hickman Catheter as if it were blood.
Many people wondered how that works. My brother's marrow is placed into one of those plastic bags, like the ones found at blood drives and its disbursed into my blood stream. C'est finis!
They're continuously playing this movie in my $10/day television rental at Hopkins starring Ice Cube called "The Longshots". I absolutely love this movie. I believe it's a story that begins with believing in someone else to the point where you make them great and moves into a much greater theme of simply believing in yourself. I must've watched it 10 times already and still can't get enough. Simply Brilliant! I'm so grateful to be a part of this trial at Hopkins and am hoping to prove to be worthy enough of this blessing. To be cured of this disease is a longshot, but I believe -- in myself, in fate, in my destiny.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and Blessings,
Christina Madry
They simply transfuse his marrow through my Hickman Catheter as if it were blood.
Many people wondered how that works. My brother's marrow is placed into one of those plastic bags, like the ones found at blood drives and its disbursed into my blood stream. C'est finis!
They're continuously playing this movie in my $10/day television rental at Hopkins starring Ice Cube called "The Longshots". I absolutely love this movie. I believe it's a story that begins with believing in someone else to the point where you make them great and moves into a much greater theme of simply believing in yourself. I must've watched it 10 times already and still can't get enough. Simply Brilliant! I'm so grateful to be a part of this trial at Hopkins and am hoping to prove to be worthy enough of this blessing. To be cured of this disease is a longshot, but I believe -- in myself, in fate, in my destiny.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and Blessings,
Christina Madry
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Wolverine
I ask for your forgiveness in advance. I am on a heavy dose of narcotics to sedate me, therefore my words may not read clear. I will try my best.
It's been a fight since Monday but I am hanging in there. Surprisingly, I am doing well. The pain was a bit much for me to manage as an outpatient and it's taken the team at Hopkins about 3 days to get me to this point. I am quite grateful for my progress, however.
I was watching Wolverine again and there is dialogue between Logan and Dr. Carol Frost just before Striker makes Wolverine indestructible. It reads something like this:
Dr. Carol Frost: When it starts, whatever the reason is that you're doing this, focus on that.
Logan: Trust me, I've been through worse.
Dr. Carol Frost: No you haven't.
How apropos. I have never been through anything as bad as this experience. I constantly ask myself why I did this to myself but I just try to focus on my goal. Hopefully Dr. Frost's words will prove to be valuable.
Twas the night before my transplant and I am feeling many things.
Shame, for some of my old behaviors and the ways in which I under represented myself, my family or friendships. "Always do your best," is one of Don Miguel Ruiz' 4 personal agreements and I think my old self rarely did my best. Why? I believe when you grow up sickly, people automatically give you a pass. That or blonde. It's just a theory but something I hope to explore in the coming months. I cannot go forward with a pass. (I cannot believe I'm actually writing it down - now it's official.)
I am also ashamed for going through life so selfishly. People give of themselves through their occupation, community service or within their (nuclear) families daily. After receiving so much from the service of others as a sick individual, I would like to try to be there in the same manner when I return back to life. In the meantime, I'll have to sit back and continue to be the recipient of kind deeds but it doesn't make it any easier. If you're someone that has ever helped me, whether as a nurse or caring agent or just to give me words of encouragement I want to thank you. I don't say it enough and I hope to change that in the future.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina
It's been a fight since Monday but I am hanging in there. Surprisingly, I am doing well. The pain was a bit much for me to manage as an outpatient and it's taken the team at Hopkins about 3 days to get me to this point. I am quite grateful for my progress, however.
I was watching Wolverine again and there is dialogue between Logan and Dr. Carol Frost just before Striker makes Wolverine indestructible. It reads something like this:
Dr. Carol Frost: When it starts, whatever the reason is that you're doing this, focus on that.
Logan: Trust me, I've been through worse.
Dr. Carol Frost: No you haven't.
How apropos. I have never been through anything as bad as this experience. I constantly ask myself why I did this to myself but I just try to focus on my goal. Hopefully Dr. Frost's words will prove to be valuable.
Twas the night before my transplant and I am feeling many things.
Shame, for some of my old behaviors and the ways in which I under represented myself, my family or friendships. "Always do your best," is one of Don Miguel Ruiz' 4 personal agreements and I think my old self rarely did my best. Why? I believe when you grow up sickly, people automatically give you a pass. That or blonde. It's just a theory but something I hope to explore in the coming months. I cannot go forward with a pass. (I cannot believe I'm actually writing it down - now it's official.)
I am also ashamed for going through life so selfishly. People give of themselves through their occupation, community service or within their (nuclear) families daily. After receiving so much from the service of others as a sick individual, I would like to try to be there in the same manner when I return back to life. In the meantime, I'll have to sit back and continue to be the recipient of kind deeds but it doesn't make it any easier. If you're someone that has ever helped me, whether as a nurse or caring agent or just to give me words of encouragement I want to thank you. I don't say it enough and I hope to change that in the future.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Chemo Jihad
Today was simply another day on my chemo jihad (jihad being Arabic for "struggle"). I took this self-portrait at Hopkins. I must wear this mask at all times because of the germs people so easily pass to one another. The only time I am permitted to remove it is in my house or in my station at the Cancer clinic, but then those around me must wear it. I was thinking today that my current struggles are two battles that conflict with each other, occurring at the same time. In one instance, I am having a Sickle Cell Crisis. To recover from this type of sickness, I must hydrate the body so that I can reproduce stronger red blood cells and raise my hemoglobin levels. I also can numb the pain with opiates, knowing that eventually my body will become stronger and I'll get back to normal. In another instance, I am taking chemotherapy drugs, whose goal in my body is to destroy, or at least temporarily disable, my immune system including bone marrow, red blood cells and white blood cells. So how is it that I can recover from my crisis while going through chemotherapy?
By Thursday, my body is to be in such a weakened state that I will be ready for my day of total body irradiation and by Friday, for my bone marrow transplant. To ponder this and just sit back and watch is even more interesting. I'm not worried. Even as I sit here with such an equation that only the divine laws of the human body can solve, I find myself fascinated. I can't wait to see how things will work themselves out...keep you posted.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Day -9 to -6 ATG: complete
I started ATG on Wednesday. It was bad. Real Bad. Michael Jackson.
The purpose of this blog is to take my family and friends through this experience but I'm not so sure you should endure everything with me. Diana Ross was always known for saying you have to talk about things -- get it out there. John Mayer with say what you need to say, but somehow it will not feel therapeutic for me to talk about this. ATG is one of those things you want to forget about and move onto a better part of your life -- quickly.
So what was this past week like? I had my Hickman catheter placed on Tuesday. It's a fairly simple procedure and the purpose of the Hickman is that it provides and "in" for the IV meds and chemotherapy drugs while providing an "out" for blood and other blood culture tests the medical staff needs to perform without poking you with a needle everytime. I have the "Power Hickman" which means I could go as far as having that colored material placed into the Hickman for various CAT scan tests. The following images were taken hours after my catheter was placed:
There is a line connected to my vein that runs under my skin. It is stitched to hold it into place (marked by the bandaid), while the other end is shown coming out of my skin with two lines extending from it. That's where all the magic happens.
The next day, Wednesday July 15, I began receiving ATG intravenously. The side effects I received from ATG, included, but were not limited to, chills, fever, high blood pressure, nausea, vomitting and exhaustion. I also went into a Sickle Cell Crisis, afterall, what would this disease be without leaving kicking and screaming. For that reason, I was admitted into the hospital. Too bad for the disease because I'm getting the last word in this time. So since Wednesday, I've been medicating for joint pain, living in the hospital and coping with any side effects of the ATG.
Saturday, I began Cytoxan and Fludarabine. This is what me and my catheter receiving chemo and a pint of blood (transfusion for the loss of red blood cells due to Sickle Cell crisis) looks like:
Yes it's that simple. The Fludarabine took about 30 minutes and the Cytoxan was approximately 60 minutes to funnel through the catheter. I will also receive my brother's marrow through the same facilities. Another interesting fact I forgot to mention: my bladder, and it's contents, are considered lethal. I must be very careful and ensure I drink plenty of fluids and that I wash pre- and post- bathroom trips.
The doctors say I have been through the worse part of it all with the medication ATG. I doubt that much is true, but they are making me feel better. The past three days have not been a walk in the park but I am ready for this, with the occassional emotional breakdown allowed. Again, I pray you are enjoying your summer and I'll see you on the other side of this..this...monumental occassion! I am beginning to feel quite tired, either from the joint pain medication, or from the chemoterapy. Either way my body is calling me to rest and I must listen.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and Blessings,
Christina Madry
The purpose of this blog is to take my family and friends through this experience but I'm not so sure you should endure everything with me. Diana Ross was always known for saying you have to talk about things -- get it out there. John Mayer with say what you need to say, but somehow it will not feel therapeutic for me to talk about this. ATG is one of those things you want to forget about and move onto a better part of your life -- quickly.
So what was this past week like? I had my Hickman catheter placed on Tuesday. It's a fairly simple procedure and the purpose of the Hickman is that it provides and "in" for the IV meds and chemotherapy drugs while providing an "out" for blood and other blood culture tests the medical staff needs to perform without poking you with a needle everytime. I have the "Power Hickman" which means I could go as far as having that colored material placed into the Hickman for various CAT scan tests. The following images were taken hours after my catheter was placed:
There is a line connected to my vein that runs under my skin. It is stitched to hold it into place (marked by the bandaid), while the other end is shown coming out of my skin with two lines extending from it. That's where all the magic happens.
The next day, Wednesday July 15, I began receiving ATG intravenously. The side effects I received from ATG, included, but were not limited to, chills, fever, high blood pressure, nausea, vomitting and exhaustion. I also went into a Sickle Cell Crisis, afterall, what would this disease be without leaving kicking and screaming. For that reason, I was admitted into the hospital. Too bad for the disease because I'm getting the last word in this time. So since Wednesday, I've been medicating for joint pain, living in the hospital and coping with any side effects of the ATG.
Saturday, I began Cytoxan and Fludarabine. This is what me and my catheter receiving chemo and a pint of blood (transfusion for the loss of red blood cells due to Sickle Cell crisis) looks like:
Yes it's that simple. The Fludarabine took about 30 minutes and the Cytoxan was approximately 60 minutes to funnel through the catheter. I will also receive my brother's marrow through the same facilities. Another interesting fact I forgot to mention: my bladder, and it's contents, are considered lethal. I must be very careful and ensure I drink plenty of fluids and that I wash pre- and post- bathroom trips.
The doctors say I have been through the worse part of it all with the medication ATG. I doubt that much is true, but they are making me feel better. The past three days have not been a walk in the park but I am ready for this, with the occassional emotional breakdown allowed. Again, I pray you are enjoying your summer and I'll see you on the other side of this..this...monumental occassion! I am beginning to feel quite tired, either from the joint pain medication, or from the chemoterapy. Either way my body is calling me to rest and I must listen.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and Blessings,
Christina Madry
Monday, July 13, 2009
T-minus 2 days
Relax. Take a deep breath. We have the answers you seek.
Anxiety is at an all-time high but the universe (God, Allah, Buddha or whatever you choose to call it) continues to send me messages. I am sitting here this evening bonding with Ira and Amy. I've had a rough couple of days. The doctors have inundated me with information and they can tell I'm losing it. Cancer will likely occur in the next 10 years! Menopause and belly weight gain! A stigmatism is likely to occur from the radiation! Ira yahoo's "stigmatism" and the first line reads:
Relax. Take a deep breath. We have the answers you seek.
Okay...if that's not the universe talking to me then I'll never get it. Still I can't help but think if I had been armed with all the information 6 months ago, I would have made the same decision. There is good news so I don't want to reflect on all things bad, but I must be honest and write down my current emotional state this evening.
Good news: All my doctors are incredibly optimistic and they say my current bill of health only contributes to their optimism. In fact, things are unusually in my favor. My brother is a 100% match and my health is abnormally good so I have been removed from the trial. It is simply a Mini Allogeneic BMT.
Bad news: I'm about to endure the worse 100 days of my life. Nothing can prepare me for it and the advice I'm receiving now is to take it day by day. I will try my best, but being the Cancer that I am, I can't help but worry and feel anxiety about this. I mean how does one psyche oneself out of something they know is coming at them and coming at them hard.
Cytoxan, the chemotherapy drug, is so powerful and potent a drug. It's purpose is to kill fast growing cells found in your body: bone marrow cells, hair cells and cells lining the gastrointestinal tract. Good and bad cells -- Cytoxan is going to kill it. Immediate side effects of Cytoxan include nausea and vomitting but it can also hurt the wall of your bladder. Long-term side effects include the lowering of your blood cells and platelets while very high doses can cause sterility and hair loss. Hair loss is temporary and usually grows back in a few months.
I begin receiving Cytoxan on Saturday but the immunosuppressant drug, ATG, begins on Wednesday. The purpose of ATG is to prevent rejection of my brother's marrow after the bone marrow transplant. ATG not only helps the body accept the transplanted marrow but it also decreases the body's harmful response to diseases affecting the immune system. Side effects I should expect include low platelet and white blood cell counts, dizziness, headache, nausea or vomitting and diarrhea.
It seems nausea and vomitting are imminent, while other side effects I pray skip over me. All this while I still have Sickle Cell Anemia. I'm not officially cured of SCA yet so I run the risk of going into crisis. The doctors say if that occurs then they will respond to any symptoms I have, but that I should expect the next 100 days to be quite difficult.
Again, I want to thank everyone for all the words of support and pray you are enjoying every blessing that life brings you. I will see you on the other side of this...
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Anxiety is at an all-time high but the universe (God, Allah, Buddha or whatever you choose to call it) continues to send me messages. I am sitting here this evening bonding with Ira and Amy. I've had a rough couple of days. The doctors have inundated me with information and they can tell I'm losing it. Cancer will likely occur in the next 10 years! Menopause and belly weight gain! A stigmatism is likely to occur from the radiation! Ira yahoo's "stigmatism" and the first line reads:
Relax. Take a deep breath. We have the answers you seek.
Okay...if that's not the universe talking to me then I'll never get it. Still I can't help but think if I had been armed with all the information 6 months ago, I would have made the same decision. There is good news so I don't want to reflect on all things bad, but I must be honest and write down my current emotional state this evening.
Good news: All my doctors are incredibly optimistic and they say my current bill of health only contributes to their optimism. In fact, things are unusually in my favor. My brother is a 100% match and my health is abnormally good so I have been removed from the trial. It is simply a Mini Allogeneic BMT.
Bad news: I'm about to endure the worse 100 days of my life. Nothing can prepare me for it and the advice I'm receiving now is to take it day by day. I will try my best, but being the Cancer that I am, I can't help but worry and feel anxiety about this. I mean how does one psyche oneself out of something they know is coming at them and coming at them hard.
Cytoxan, the chemotherapy drug, is so powerful and potent a drug. It's purpose is to kill fast growing cells found in your body: bone marrow cells, hair cells and cells lining the gastrointestinal tract. Good and bad cells -- Cytoxan is going to kill it. Immediate side effects of Cytoxan include nausea and vomitting but it can also hurt the wall of your bladder. Long-term side effects include the lowering of your blood cells and platelets while very high doses can cause sterility and hair loss. Hair loss is temporary and usually grows back in a few months.
I begin receiving Cytoxan on Saturday but the immunosuppressant drug, ATG, begins on Wednesday. The purpose of ATG is to prevent rejection of my brother's marrow after the bone marrow transplant. ATG not only helps the body accept the transplanted marrow but it also decreases the body's harmful response to diseases affecting the immune system. Side effects I should expect include low platelet and white blood cell counts, dizziness, headache, nausea or vomitting and diarrhea.
It seems nausea and vomitting are imminent, while other side effects I pray skip over me. All this while I still have Sickle Cell Anemia. I'm not officially cured of SCA yet so I run the risk of going into crisis. The doctors say if that occurs then they will respond to any symptoms I have, but that I should expect the next 100 days to be quite difficult.
Again, I want to thank everyone for all the words of support and pray you are enjoying every blessing that life brings you. I will see you on the other side of this...
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Friday, July 10, 2009
This Woman's Worth
What a week I have had! First things first, I had one last follow-up appointment with my cardiologist. I had to have an echo again because of the heart problems they detected while I was in the hospital in May. My cardiologist, Dr. Hailu, said she would give her recommendation for me to continue with the BMT, but she still wanted to look at what was going on with my heart. As was predicted, it is a slight issue -- a leaking valve, but most people, approximately 1 in 10 have this issue with their heart and it would not prove to be anything concerning.
During my time with specialists or doctors, I find myself involved in the most interesting conversations. I feel that everyone has a story to tell and maybe it's the reason why I find it so easy to socialize with people. I have a desire to know people's stories, or to share mine, and connect on an intimate level.
When I originally went to the heart specialist in November, this transplant was just an idea I read about in a magazine. When I told the heart specialist of my ambitions, she not only wished me the best of luck in my endeavors to get accepted into the trial, but ended up being one of those positive voices in my head that encouraged me to press on in my weakest moments.
This trip to the cardiology specialist was no less inspiring. I told her that, after 8 long months, I had been accepted and I begin my chemo on July 15. I also told her about my fertility experience and how I didn't have a donor -- how my faith is the only thing keeping me motivated to go through this thing knowing that I will be menopausal and infertile after. Even the feeling of saving eggs sometimes feels like I didn't do enough. I told her of the last minute scramble for a donor wasn't quite what I had expected of my experience with Hopkins, of not being armed with all the information for such an austere process, and how disappointing that was for me. I pray that I have read and researched enough so that the same kind of loophole won't find its way to my Bone Marrow Transplant.
She then shared her life story. How she married in her thirties and thanks God daily that she didn't have children with him as they divorced many years ago. She went on a blind date at 41 and knew at that moment she had met her husband. Six months later they were married and one year later she had their first and only son. They've lived a happy and loving life since. As a woman in her fifties, it was her gift to tell me that life is so unpredictably wonderful. That my life is about to change in ways I could not possibly imagine yet and everything that happened before this transplant will not only seem, but will also be, another lifetime ago.
I look forward to bringing with me, in this new life, all of the wonderful memories of the past 3 decades, but I also look forward to creating a new existence for myself. I take with me a few words of advice to live by that I've picked up from some of this centuries most amazing women:
Cathy Black: "The worst-case scenario is rarely as bad as you think."
Oprah Winfrey: "Worthiness is our birthright."
Suze Orman: "Happiness [is a quality of a wealthy woman]. When you're happy,
you don't spend your money on things you don't need."
Desiree Rogers: "Laissez le bon temps rouler!"
Carine Roitfield: "I don't know what I will do next but I cannot do the same for the next 10 years. I love to change."
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
During my time with specialists or doctors, I find myself involved in the most interesting conversations. I feel that everyone has a story to tell and maybe it's the reason why I find it so easy to socialize with people. I have a desire to know people's stories, or to share mine, and connect on an intimate level.
When I originally went to the heart specialist in November, this transplant was just an idea I read about in a magazine. When I told the heart specialist of my ambitions, she not only wished me the best of luck in my endeavors to get accepted into the trial, but ended up being one of those positive voices in my head that encouraged me to press on in my weakest moments.
This trip to the cardiology specialist was no less inspiring. I told her that, after 8 long months, I had been accepted and I begin my chemo on July 15. I also told her about my fertility experience and how I didn't have a donor -- how my faith is the only thing keeping me motivated to go through this thing knowing that I will be menopausal and infertile after. Even the feeling of saving eggs sometimes feels like I didn't do enough. I told her of the last minute scramble for a donor wasn't quite what I had expected of my experience with Hopkins, of not being armed with all the information for such an austere process, and how disappointing that was for me. I pray that I have read and researched enough so that the same kind of loophole won't find its way to my Bone Marrow Transplant.
She then shared her life story. How she married in her thirties and thanks God daily that she didn't have children with him as they divorced many years ago. She went on a blind date at 41 and knew at that moment she had met her husband. Six months later they were married and one year later she had their first and only son. They've lived a happy and loving life since. As a woman in her fifties, it was her gift to tell me that life is so unpredictably wonderful. That my life is about to change in ways I could not possibly imagine yet and everything that happened before this transplant will not only seem, but will also be, another lifetime ago.
I look forward to bringing with me, in this new life, all of the wonderful memories of the past 3 decades, but I also look forward to creating a new existence for myself. I take with me a few words of advice to live by that I've picked up from some of this centuries most amazing women:
Cathy Black: "The worst-case scenario is rarely as bad as you think."
Oprah Winfrey: "Worthiness is our birthright."
Suze Orman: "Happiness [is a quality of a wealthy woman]. When you're happy,
you don't spend your money on things you don't need."
Desiree Rogers: "Laissez le bon temps rouler!"
Carine Roitfield: "I don't know what I will do next but I cannot do the same for the next 10 years. I love to change."
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
Monday, July 6, 2009
Bucket List
Today started, what would end up being, a weekend with my family. The fourth of July is my great-grandmothers birthday. She was born July 4, 1900 and turned 109 this year. I'm exhausted at 33 -- so much respect to her. I was around family members all day Sunday but maybe I should've stayed home. I didn't feel completely welcome but I made the best of it. When indulging in a discussion I was asked, with all that I am to endure, how do I stay strong, where do I draw my strength from since it's not from my family? I reflected and realized I don't have a specific source. I do have friends who keep me sane. Some always check in or send little voice notes on the blackberry to keep me smiling. It definitely helps, but I internalize many things. What are my choices? I just don't have the opportunity to be vulnerable. I wish I could but that's not my reality. I would be remiss if I said I don't feel like I need a source. Everyone needs a shoulder to lean or cry on, or maybe its bigger than me and because its not tangible I didn't claim it at that moment. Now I will...Redemption!
Something funny has been developing in my relationships and I wish to share it with you. Whenever I apologize or do something apparently "outside of my character" in recent weeks, instinctively my friends or family label it "Bucket List". For my foreign friends, "Kicking the bucket" is an english idiom that refers to death and dying. Hence a "Bucket List" is something you wish to do before you die.
Let me just say I am 30+ and there comes a time when we need to grow up. Some of us are still in our second childhood yes, but not me. If I do something that I know is wrong, it is my responsibility to apologize. If I misjudged, hurt, ignored, was too impatient or was selfish, trust me I will realize it eventually and apologize. I am not perfect however, but shouldn't we all aspire to be? My point is: Can I just be maturing into a good person? Why does it have to be my "bucket list"? Jay-z said it best, "This ain't a movie dog!"
I just think it's insanely funny that people wait until death is knocking at their door to resolve things in their lives. I may be having a bone marrow transplant but death is not imminent. You may cross the street at 5:00 pm today and get hit by a bus. Will you feel like you lived a happy productive life that will be remembered? Or do you feel your lack of compassion, quest for wealth, or ambitions to achieve or be something that you are not is what will remain of your legacy? These are things that I pray we can all be aware of in our everyday lives.
I wrote down something a decade ago and my mom saved it after all these years. She just gave it to me last month and I find it to be quite apropos for this blog:
To laugh often and much,
to win the respect of intelligent people and
the affection of children,
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends,
to appreciate beauty,
to find the best in others,
to leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch...
to know even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived.
That is to have succeeded! - Emerson
Great, yes? So if I had a bucket list what would it be? Do I have any regrets? I have sat down and thought about things I wish to do once I gain a healthy life. Or things I wish I had been a part of. Some are funny but ALL are true. I hope you enjoy them (or join me for others).
1. Childbirth/Rearing a child
2. I wish I had seen the David LaChappelle exhibit at Monnai de Paris in May
3. Financial Freedom
4. I never aspired to model or act but I wish I had been a part of Lenny Kravitz' "Fly away" video! (Call me Lenny for the comeback video.)
5. Tandem: I will be jumping out of that plane in 2010! Who's with me?
6. Completing a half marathon.
7. Go to Tokyo and Singapore for a shopping trip.
8. Sailing for no less than 3 days.
9. A fine dining cooking class that includes dessert, preferably with a handsome man and a nice glass of perrier (or a skinny girl margarita) on ice. Three turn-ons in one night -- Heaven!
10. Visit New York, Africa and Europe with my nephew. (A place where you'll discover who you really are, A place where we came from and a place where they don't care and still love you.)
What would your list look like? Hopefully things that you can plan for and not things that you could do today but have chosen not to resolve.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina
Something funny has been developing in my relationships and I wish to share it with you. Whenever I apologize or do something apparently "outside of my character" in recent weeks, instinctively my friends or family label it "Bucket List". For my foreign friends, "Kicking the bucket" is an english idiom that refers to death and dying. Hence a "Bucket List" is something you wish to do before you die.
Let me just say I am 30+ and there comes a time when we need to grow up. Some of us are still in our second childhood yes, but not me. If I do something that I know is wrong, it is my responsibility to apologize. If I misjudged, hurt, ignored, was too impatient or was selfish, trust me I will realize it eventually and apologize. I am not perfect however, but shouldn't we all aspire to be? My point is: Can I just be maturing into a good person? Why does it have to be my "bucket list"? Jay-z said it best, "This ain't a movie dog!"
I just think it's insanely funny that people wait until death is knocking at their door to resolve things in their lives. I may be having a bone marrow transplant but death is not imminent. You may cross the street at 5:00 pm today and get hit by a bus. Will you feel like you lived a happy productive life that will be remembered? Or do you feel your lack of compassion, quest for wealth, or ambitions to achieve or be something that you are not is what will remain of your legacy? These are things that I pray we can all be aware of in our everyday lives.
I wrote down something a decade ago and my mom saved it after all these years. She just gave it to me last month and I find it to be quite apropos for this blog:
To laugh often and much,
to win the respect of intelligent people and
the affection of children,
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends,
to appreciate beauty,
to find the best in others,
to leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch...
to know even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived.
That is to have succeeded! - Emerson
Great, yes? So if I had a bucket list what would it be? Do I have any regrets? I have sat down and thought about things I wish to do once I gain a healthy life. Or things I wish I had been a part of. Some are funny but ALL are true. I hope you enjoy them (or join me for others).
1. Childbirth/Rearing a child
2. I wish I had seen the David LaChappelle exhibit at Monnai de Paris in May
3. Financial Freedom
4. I never aspired to model or act but I wish I had been a part of Lenny Kravitz' "Fly away" video! (Call me Lenny for the comeback video.)
5. Tandem: I will be jumping out of that plane in 2010! Who's with me?
6. Completing a half marathon.
7. Go to Tokyo and Singapore for a shopping trip.
8. Sailing for no less than 3 days.
9. A fine dining cooking class that includes dessert, preferably with a handsome man and a nice glass of perrier (or a skinny girl margarita) on ice. Three turn-ons in one night -- Heaven!
10. Visit New York, Africa and Europe with my nephew. (A place where you'll discover who you really are, A place where we came from and a place where they don't care and still love you.)
What would your list look like? Hopefully things that you can plan for and not things that you could do today but have chosen not to resolve.
Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Day 3 pre-testing
11:45 am
Amy and I are so busy chatting and running illegal lights that we get pulled over by the cops. I'm going to be late! Fortunately it's a female cop who's understanding of the fact that we're going to Hopkins and let's us go.
12:12 pm
Dr. Brodsky is waiting in the patient room already. I tell him we got stopped by the cops (excuse #1) and he pretends to be entertained. First words: So are you ready to do this? My reply: Absolutely! He notices I cut my hair, something he warned me about during our initial consult. During that consult I expressed to him quite passionately that I didn't care about losing my hair and actually, this meeting shows him how committed I am to this transplant. I don't have anything to prove to Dr. Brodsky but, light bulb moment, I immediately feel how empowering (on so many levels) it is that I cut my hair off a month before my procedure instead of waiting for it to fall out from the chemo. He says I look great. Thanks doc! We talk for about 30 minutes and he clarifies any questions I have:
Madge: Is this procedure really going to be outpatient?
Dr. B: Yes it is. We've had success with Allogeneic Mini BMT's performed on the outpatient level. If any problems arise, such as an elevation in temperature, we'll immediately admit you into the hospital. Otherwise it's okay to go home to your own bed every night.
Madge: Recovery? I've been saying 6 months. How long can I truly expect to go through recovery?
Dr. B: Two months of a difficult recovery and by 3 months we'll know if you are grafting the new marrow from your brother. By the fourth month you should be getting back to yourself again.
Madge: That is great news. I've applied to graduate school in London, I know your answer is dependent on so many things that can not be predicted, but realistically speaking, is it a possibility to begin a program in January if I can commit to come home every 2 months?
Dr. B: You're right it does depend on many things. If the bone marrow successfully grafts, which I think your experience will be successful and if you're recovering well, it's a possibility, with a commitment to return every 8 weeks maximum to be away. However, if you acquire GVHD (graft v. host disease) where the marrow does not regenerate or if there are other complications, I would say definitely not. It's really too early to speculate.
Madge: Can we re-visit this conversation in October?
Dr. B: That might be more realistic.
Madge: Okay Dr. Brodsky thank you so much for everything! I'll see you July 15!
12:45 pm
I rush to call Ira on her way back from teaching. She usually gets back around 12:30. Serendipity! She's 10 minutes away and I catch a ride back to Amy's with her. Young and the Restless (Gasp! Sharon is having Nicholas' baby, but tells Jack it's his even though Nick left his wife to get back together with her and she's telling Nick today.), bday leftovers for lunch, a chat with the homies about M.J.'s death, the brilliance of "Remember the Time" video and how the news in America sucks. 3:30, I'm off to Hopkins again.
3:40 pm
I get off the elevator and I see my brother sitting in the lobby chatting it up with a BMT patient, Wanda, and her 8 year old nephew and donor, Wayne. Ironically my bro is telling them to come to his barber shop and he'll give them haircuts. Huh? Can I, your sister get one please? I've been bugging him for 2 weeks now. He's embarrassed and rightfully so.
My brother was there because he just received an aspiration. It is an extremely painful process to obtain a patients bone marrow, somewhere between a root canal and a gunshot wound. I've included a youTube tutorial of the process:
I did not know my brother had to experience that today. Although I feel incredibly sympathetic for him, we all could not stop laughing. The way he tells the story of his experience is priceless. Guess you had to be there, but you know what they say, "Humor is the instinct for taking pain playfully."
I'm off to my 4:00 BMT review class where apparently, I was supposed to bring my 24/7 care provider. Didn't know that before 4:05 but thanks anyway Hopkins. I learned interesting facts:
Interesting fact #1. Sicklers struggle more with grafting their bone marrow because we've had so many blood transfusions in our lifetime.
Interesting fact #2. When receiving a BMT and your donor is an unidentified match, African-American or Asian populations only stand a 50% chance of receiving a match through the registry whereas Caucasians have a 93% chance and Japanese have a 99% chance. Why? Because they've found that African-Americans or Asians are rarely genetically linked. So when I call a brother "a brother", or a sister "a sister" they really aren't? Say it ain't so!
Interesting fact #3. Allogeneic Mini-BMT's usually take longer to graft, approximately 2.5-4 weeks. (Allogeneic means I have a donor and Mini dictates that it involves less chemo or just enough to suppress the immune system.)
Interesting fact #4. 100% matched patients and donors, like myself, have less chemotherapy related issues (ie. mouth/oral sores, hair loss or risk of organ damage), lower risk of infections but are more likely to acquire graft v. host disease.
Finally my day is over! I'll be back at Hopkins July 9 for a cardiology exam. Heart issues but hopefully nothing too serious. :0)
Thank you for reading.
Peace and Blessings,
Christina Madry
Amy and I are so busy chatting and running illegal lights that we get pulled over by the cops. I'm going to be late! Fortunately it's a female cop who's understanding of the fact that we're going to Hopkins and let's us go.
12:12 pm
Dr. Brodsky is waiting in the patient room already. I tell him we got stopped by the cops (excuse #1) and he pretends to be entertained. First words: So are you ready to do this? My reply: Absolutely! He notices I cut my hair, something he warned me about during our initial consult. During that consult I expressed to him quite passionately that I didn't care about losing my hair and actually, this meeting shows him how committed I am to this transplant. I don't have anything to prove to Dr. Brodsky but, light bulb moment, I immediately feel how empowering (on so many levels) it is that I cut my hair off a month before my procedure instead of waiting for it to fall out from the chemo. He says I look great. Thanks doc! We talk for about 30 minutes and he clarifies any questions I have:
Madge: Is this procedure really going to be outpatient?
Dr. B: Yes it is. We've had success with Allogeneic Mini BMT's performed on the outpatient level. If any problems arise, such as an elevation in temperature, we'll immediately admit you into the hospital. Otherwise it's okay to go home to your own bed every night.
Madge: Recovery? I've been saying 6 months. How long can I truly expect to go through recovery?
Dr. B: Two months of a difficult recovery and by 3 months we'll know if you are grafting the new marrow from your brother. By the fourth month you should be getting back to yourself again.
Madge: That is great news. I've applied to graduate school in London, I know your answer is dependent on so many things that can not be predicted, but realistically speaking, is it a possibility to begin a program in January if I can commit to come home every 2 months?
Dr. B: You're right it does depend on many things. If the bone marrow successfully grafts, which I think your experience will be successful and if you're recovering well, it's a possibility, with a commitment to return every 8 weeks maximum to be away. However, if you acquire GVHD (graft v. host disease) where the marrow does not regenerate or if there are other complications, I would say definitely not. It's really too early to speculate.
Madge: Can we re-visit this conversation in October?
Dr. B: That might be more realistic.
Madge: Okay Dr. Brodsky thank you so much for everything! I'll see you July 15!
12:45 pm
I rush to call Ira on her way back from teaching. She usually gets back around 12:30. Serendipity! She's 10 minutes away and I catch a ride back to Amy's with her. Young and the Restless (Gasp! Sharon is having Nicholas' baby, but tells Jack it's his even though Nick left his wife to get back together with her and she's telling Nick today.), bday leftovers for lunch, a chat with the homies about M.J.'s death, the brilliance of "Remember the Time" video and how the news in America sucks. 3:30, I'm off to Hopkins again.
3:40 pm
I get off the elevator and I see my brother sitting in the lobby chatting it up with a BMT patient, Wanda, and her 8 year old nephew and donor, Wayne. Ironically my bro is telling them to come to his barber shop and he'll give them haircuts. Huh? Can I, your sister get one please? I've been bugging him for 2 weeks now. He's embarrassed and rightfully so.
My brother was there because he just received an aspiration. It is an extremely painful process to obtain a patients bone marrow, somewhere between a root canal and a gunshot wound. I've included a youTube tutorial of the process:
I did not know my brother had to experience that today. Although I feel incredibly sympathetic for him, we all could not stop laughing. The way he tells the story of his experience is priceless. Guess you had to be there, but you know what they say, "Humor is the instinct for taking pain playfully."
I'm off to my 4:00 BMT review class where apparently, I was supposed to bring my 24/7 care provider. Didn't know that before 4:05 but thanks anyway Hopkins. I learned interesting facts:
Interesting fact #1. Sicklers struggle more with grafting their bone marrow because we've had so many blood transfusions in our lifetime.
Interesting fact #2. When receiving a BMT and your donor is an unidentified match, African-American or Asian populations only stand a 50% chance of receiving a match through the registry whereas Caucasians have a 93% chance and Japanese have a 99% chance. Why? Because they've found that African-Americans or Asians are rarely genetically linked. So when I call a brother "a brother", or a sister "a sister" they really aren't? Say it ain't so!
Interesting fact #3. Allogeneic Mini-BMT's usually take longer to graft, approximately 2.5-4 weeks. (Allogeneic means I have a donor and Mini dictates that it involves less chemo or just enough to suppress the immune system.)
Interesting fact #4. 100% matched patients and donors, like myself, have less chemotherapy related issues (ie. mouth/oral sores, hair loss or risk of organ damage), lower risk of infections but are more likely to acquire graft v. host disease.
Finally my day is over! I'll be back at Hopkins July 9 for a cardiology exam. Heart issues but hopefully nothing too serious. :0)
Thank you for reading.
Peace and Blessings,
Christina Madry
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Day 2 pre-testing
7:00 am
Wake-up, Ugh! Feeling like Garfield, wanting to stay in bed all day. We went to Tapas Teatro last night and had way too much fun. It started off with Ira, Amy (my friend and caregiver on Tuesday) and Walla (my favorite Sudanese Arab now U.S. citizen from New York) for dinner and Sangria. Who needs to watch the B.E.T. awards on such a beautiful evening? Suddenly people starting appearing from the streets like the Beat it video: Bobby, Aaron, Carlos then two of Amy's friends. Wow, the whole crew came out minus my bestest Kareema. Sangria, tapas and good friends -- good times. But we didn't get in until 1:30 am so today is going to be difficult for everyone.
7:30 am
Drop Walla off at the train station, her MBA Charter School Marketing internship awaits her. I'm off to Hopkins and Ira's off to teach her college bound students the principles of Theatre.
9:00 am
I'm meeting with Dr. Wharam, a radiation oncologist for a consultation. Boring. He basically says after my chemotherapy, something he is unfamiliar and disconnected to (at least in regards to his role in things) I will receive 200 rad in radiation. Two-hundred is not a lot of rad. Not enough to make you infertile or lose your hair. For example, a man with testicular cancer would receive approximately 1200 rad, 6x's the amount I am to receive. Or someone with a more aggressive form of cancer would receive 5000 rad over a 4-5 week span at 180 rad a day. I will only receive 200 rad the day before the BMT. What's the point then? My sentiments exactly and I don't think I was given a finite answer. Basically it's been part of the protocol and they've been slowly decreasing the amount of rad as they are finding it's not significant in destroying the patients bone marrow or in improving the process of the new donor marrow to graft.
2:00 pm
I have a complete physical exam and discussion of my medical history with the nurse practitioner, Amy. Tonsillectomy October 1995 and Gall bladder removed June 2006. Need anything else? Call my people. I'm out of here, it's my birthday!
Thank you for all the birthday wishes! My cup runneth over. It was truly a great day and I felt the love. Note to self, address and answer Roberta and Donnie in my prayers tonight: On June 29 the love was with me. Who's got next?
I hope you enjoyed the very special day of June 29th. Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina
R.I.P. MJ
Wake-up, Ugh! Feeling like Garfield, wanting to stay in bed all day. We went to Tapas Teatro last night and had way too much fun. It started off with Ira, Amy (my friend and caregiver on Tuesday) and Walla (my favorite Sudanese Arab now U.S. citizen from New York) for dinner and Sangria. Who needs to watch the B.E.T. awards on such a beautiful evening? Suddenly people starting appearing from the streets like the Beat it video: Bobby, Aaron, Carlos then two of Amy's friends. Wow, the whole crew came out minus my bestest Kareema. Sangria, tapas and good friends -- good times. But we didn't get in until 1:30 am so today is going to be difficult for everyone.
7:30 am
Drop Walla off at the train station, her MBA Charter School Marketing internship awaits her. I'm off to Hopkins and Ira's off to teach her college bound students the principles of Theatre.
9:00 am
I'm meeting with Dr. Wharam, a radiation oncologist for a consultation. Boring. He basically says after my chemotherapy, something he is unfamiliar and disconnected to (at least in regards to his role in things) I will receive 200 rad in radiation. Two-hundred is not a lot of rad. Not enough to make you infertile or lose your hair. For example, a man with testicular cancer would receive approximately 1200 rad, 6x's the amount I am to receive. Or someone with a more aggressive form of cancer would receive 5000 rad over a 4-5 week span at 180 rad a day. I will only receive 200 rad the day before the BMT. What's the point then? My sentiments exactly and I don't think I was given a finite answer. Basically it's been part of the protocol and they've been slowly decreasing the amount of rad as they are finding it's not significant in destroying the patients bone marrow or in improving the process of the new donor marrow to graft.
2:00 pm
I have a complete physical exam and discussion of my medical history with the nurse practitioner, Amy. Tonsillectomy October 1995 and Gall bladder removed June 2006. Need anything else? Call my people. I'm out of here, it's my birthday!
Thank you for all the birthday wishes! My cup runneth over. It was truly a great day and I felt the love. Note to self, address and answer Roberta and Donnie in my prayers tonight: On June 29 the love was with me. Who's got next?
I hope you enjoyed the very special day of June 29th. Thank you for reading.
Peace and blessings,
Christina
R.I.P. MJ
Friday, June 26, 2009
Day 1 pre-testing
9 a.m.
I arrive at Nuclear Medicine for a heart scan. The name alone scares me, Nuclear and Medicine don't seem to marry well. Upon walking through Hopkins you can feel how grand the facility is, not just in name, but in square footage. My mom dropped me off, but in all fairness, she asked if I needed her. I said no, trying to be strong, but on second thought, it would have been nice to have her here for support. Sickness is all around and its very real. I've been in a bubble of happiness and splendor, a.k.a. "my life", but this is definitely making things set in for me. It evens smells like sickness -- that or Purell hand sanitizer. All these thoughts before my first appointment. I have no clue what a heart scan in the basement at Nuclear Medicine means but I'm about to find out. There are certain things you want to walk in and not know about, like a movie that you heard was two thumbs up. You don't want to hear the story line so that every scene and emotion is a pleasant surprise. Trust me, I am not having one of those movie moments right now. They just called my name! Time to get it together. Wish me luck.
10:30 am
Heart scan was simple. She drew blood from me, injected it with some nuclear product and re-injected it into my blood. They wanted to see how my heart valves function and apparently the injection would show the color better in the images. Next stop, lab work.
I see the phlebotomist who wants to draw 2 gallons of blood. Think I'm joking?
Look at the vials she has to fill. Pokes me once got a third of the blood she needed. Second poke I filled 2 vials, Third poke the vein ballooned. That's it! C'est finis! Whatever blood my body has, it's staying. It's now 12:10 and I have 30 minutes until my next series of tests. I run into my brother in the lobby preparing to get his blood drawn. He also has to go through a series of pre-testing. Today his includes a complete physical, lab work and a heart scan. He's wearing a mask because he has the flu and we're in the cancer building. It's necessary and funny all at the same time. After a few jokes about my new haircut, I leave him in the waiting area to eat my packed lunch in the grassy knoll on the hospital grounds.
12:45 pm
I'm cramping really bad still. 14 eggs are not easy to give. I had decided to take the "man up" road and skip the pain meds -- bad choice. On my way to my EKG, I'm on the elevator with some docs and I almost scream in pain. Don't want to cause a scene so I opt to pinch my arm real hard. Note to self: take that advil you snuck in your Marc Jacobs tote in case of emergency as soon as I get off this thing.
I don't make it that far. We're in a hospital right? I ask for a wheelchair escort. Hey, Hopkins is massive. With all the staff in here, I'm sure someone would be willing to push me around to my appointments. Voila, a gentleman is found! My EKG specialist volunteers. He's kinda creepy though seeing as he has full access to my boobies during my EKG. I'm going to pretend he's being professional even though his personal inquiries of my life and his volunteering the fact that he's not married infers otherwise. Whatever, 7th floor please?
2:30
Next stop a series of bizarre lung volume tests. In every room you hear the specialists yelling, "BLOW SUCK BLOW SUCK". It's all in the details in this area. Even the mouthpiece is shaped like a set of pretty lips.
It's almost too humorous to even describe. Fortunately my specialist has a sense of humor as well and is patient with me when I'm too busy laughing to focus on breathing.
3:30
I'm off to my cat scans and chest x-rays. It takes about 15 minutes and then I'm done.
Today wasn't so bad, except for the cramping from Tuesday. More tests all day Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Until then, I'm resting. I've had enough poking and prodding for one week. Thank you for reading and enjoy the weekend!
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
I arrive at Nuclear Medicine for a heart scan. The name alone scares me, Nuclear and Medicine don't seem to marry well. Upon walking through Hopkins you can feel how grand the facility is, not just in name, but in square footage. My mom dropped me off, but in all fairness, she asked if I needed her. I said no, trying to be strong, but on second thought, it would have been nice to have her here for support. Sickness is all around and its very real. I've been in a bubble of happiness and splendor, a.k.a. "my life", but this is definitely making things set in for me. It evens smells like sickness -- that or Purell hand sanitizer. All these thoughts before my first appointment. I have no clue what a heart scan in the basement at Nuclear Medicine means but I'm about to find out. There are certain things you want to walk in and not know about, like a movie that you heard was two thumbs up. You don't want to hear the story line so that every scene and emotion is a pleasant surprise. Trust me, I am not having one of those movie moments right now. They just called my name! Time to get it together. Wish me luck.
10:30 am
Heart scan was simple. She drew blood from me, injected it with some nuclear product and re-injected it into my blood. They wanted to see how my heart valves function and apparently the injection would show the color better in the images. Next stop, lab work.
I see the phlebotomist who wants to draw 2 gallons of blood. Think I'm joking?
Look at the vials she has to fill. Pokes me once got a third of the blood she needed. Second poke I filled 2 vials, Third poke the vein ballooned. That's it! C'est finis! Whatever blood my body has, it's staying. It's now 12:10 and I have 30 minutes until my next series of tests. I run into my brother in the lobby preparing to get his blood drawn. He also has to go through a series of pre-testing. Today his includes a complete physical, lab work and a heart scan. He's wearing a mask because he has the flu and we're in the cancer building. It's necessary and funny all at the same time. After a few jokes about my new haircut, I leave him in the waiting area to eat my packed lunch in the grassy knoll on the hospital grounds.12:45 pm
I'm cramping really bad still. 14 eggs are not easy to give. I had decided to take the "man up" road and skip the pain meds -- bad choice. On my way to my EKG, I'm on the elevator with some docs and I almost scream in pain. Don't want to cause a scene so I opt to pinch my arm real hard. Note to self: take that advil you snuck in your Marc Jacobs tote in case of emergency as soon as I get off this thing.
I don't make it that far. We're in a hospital right? I ask for a wheelchair escort. Hey, Hopkins is massive. With all the staff in here, I'm sure someone would be willing to push me around to my appointments. Voila, a gentleman is found! My EKG specialist volunteers. He's kinda creepy though seeing as he has full access to my boobies during my EKG. I'm going to pretend he's being professional even though his personal inquiries of my life and his volunteering the fact that he's not married infers otherwise. Whatever, 7th floor please?
2:30
Next stop a series of bizarre lung volume tests. In every room you hear the specialists yelling, "BLOW SUCK BLOW SUCK". It's all in the details in this area. Even the mouthpiece is shaped like a set of pretty lips.
It's almost too humorous to even describe. Fortunately my specialist has a sense of humor as well and is patient with me when I'm too busy laughing to focus on breathing.3:30
I'm off to my cat scans and chest x-rays. It takes about 15 minutes and then I'm done.
Today wasn't so bad, except for the cramping from Tuesday. More tests all day Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Until then, I'm resting. I've had enough poking and prodding for one week. Thank you for reading and enjoy the weekend!
Peace and blessings,
Christina Madry
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