Cool pic (and medical update)

I am tired of blogging because I am tired of talking about myself. I am tired of recovery. And truthfully, I have been busy healing.  That is why I have not written. I will list a quick update then let's talk about something else.


1.   I was ordered right before thanksgiving to two weeks of no extra movement. No exercise, no stretching etc. This was due to a granulation.

2. My incision was still leaking.

3. I saw a urologist who used an ultrasound to determine that I was only voiding a small amount of fluid from my bladder. At 400ml the bladder is full, I was at 364ml after using the restroom. He ordered a cystoscopy.

4.  After the 2 weeks rest it was determined that the granulation was healing. The granulation was cauterized and I was given 2 stitches in my incision without anesthetic.  The doc said that he hopes in two more weeks everything will be totally healed.

5. The stitches popped out.

6.  My cystoscopy determined that my bladder is numb. There are two pockets of lymph fluid that have collected from the lymph node dissection and these pockets are pressing on my bladder. The reason my incision is not healing is this fluid is trying to escape. The stitches popping was
a good thing.  Apparently this fluid pooling can resolve itself in some cases. In other cases they drain this fluid with a syringe.  I made another appointment for 2 weeks from now to have another ultrasound.

Update complete.

Here are some other things I would be happy to talk about if you see me, or want to message me:
I am skiing
Christmas is coming
I have cool holiday decorations
The music lineup for winter is amazing
My parents are coming for Christmas
I love legwarmers

Happy Holidays to all! Here is a picture of me skiing in Iceland a few years ago. That always makes me happy!

Thankful

Happy Thanksgiving.

I have much to be thankful for this year. Here are some of the highlights:

Mom and Dad- always awesome! Never let me down

Friends- who pick me up, carry me when needed, and endlessly support

My job at 3 Creek- inspires me, gives me purpose, pays for my life (and sickness)

The Tetons- offer me exercise, fun, endless beauty and inspiration

Negative Lymph Node Pathology- if only one thing goes right, this is the true blessing

Modern Medicine- even though this has been a tough battle, at least I won't likely die

Early Detection- Stage 3-4 are VERY bad

"Rad"

The doctor jargon for radical hysterectomy is "rad."

I walked into the office for an appointment with a new doctor and he said, "You certainly look good for having had a 'rad' eight weeks ago."

Then we did a rundown of the last 8 weeks including the seroma, a second surgery, trouble with my bladder, 4 infections followed by 4 rounds of anti-biotics, and now I am back in the office.  After the rundown he said, "Well, I would have never thought you had a 'rad' 8 weeks ago with complications, you look great!"

I fear that because I am healthy and fit (looking) I have been mistreated by my caregivers. I stroll into the offices over and over with a smile and a healthy complexion. I am not overweight and I wear fitness clothing. Does that mean a doctor can assume my body is healed? My surgeon told me I could do things that clearly I cannot.  He said pain could be my guide, and I have not had any pain. Yet here I am back on the sideline of my own life.

Just for everyone's information, so people can stop assuming that I did this to myself, I was completely released to ski, run, bike, etc at 6 weeks. I have not done one thing that hurt or caused abdominal pain, other than shovel (which I stopped immediately.) Yet, somehow I have an internal injury that is not healing. The wound is supposed to be skin like and smooth and it is raw and swollen. This is causing pressure on my insides making it difficult to eat, drink, and other important body functions.

Sadly, I cannot flex my abdominal muscles until released by my doctor. This means, no more skiing. I am approved for cardio such as elliptical or bicycle, but until further notice, no skiing.

I am still waiting to hear from my team at Huntsman to make sure they agree with the diagnosis of my Jackson doctor. Perhaps he will want to see me again. Maybe I can walk into the room in black workout tights and cute Lululemon jacket, and I can be told I am fine, and released for all activity. Or maybe I should show up in a moo-moo with my hair a complete mess and be told I need another 4 weeks of recovery.

All I want is to be told the truth. That would be "rad."


Here are a few pictures of my first post cancer ski. An epic moment for my soul.

New Beginnings

"New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings."

 Beginning today, right now, I am starting again.

Winter is upon us. Winter, my favorite season of the year. The season where the chill of the air bites our cheeks as we sail through snow. The season of holidays and shimmering snowflakes and sparkling decorations; fireworks and bright lights. I am coming into the season anew.

The past few weeks have been full of small accomplishments. I am accomplishing more in the gym. Slowly I am trying to get my body prepared for ski season. I skinned up the pass and (sort-of) skied back down the skin track. The funny part is, with my swollen belly and my ski pants a little too tight, I was unable to bend all the way over and tighten my boots. I had to have help from a friend in the parking lot. Thus making me the "ski girl" I hate to be. The person who needs help.

I realized while sitting in the snow at the top, that I was unable to stand back up without my poles due to the lack of core muscles. I have decided it would be quite a challenge to get up if I actually fell on skis. However, all of this was almost 2 weeks ago and I have gotten quite a bit better since then. I am waiting for more snowfall to attempt day 2 in the Tetons.

Though it has been a tough time for me, and though I sometimes feel tiny bits of depression and frustration, I am trying to better understand the human body. Particularly I am trying to grasp the overwhelming mind/ body connection. For me, as well as a friend I know who just had a hysterectomy, we are both mentally overwhelmed by our physical limitations. She is sadly suffering and fearful that she will not get back to "normal." I shared the same feelings. I sometimes still share those same feelings.

My new attitude is that today is a new beginning. My past does not define me. I can bravely move forward and confidently embrace the new beginning.  So can anyone!

Outpouring of Love

Outpouring of Love

First, I would like to thank my 3 Creek friends who have sent messages of support, care and love. I am so thankful to have such a wonderful place to work and such amazing clients and friends.

The good news is that I am back at work and training again. Training makes me feel productive. I know I am helping people. I know I have knowledge and experience that people appreciate. I know that my spirit and good attitude have been missed.

Yesterday I rode a spin bike for 10 minutes and did another 10 minutes on an elliptical. I was surprised that I wasn't more fatigued from the effort. I laid on the ground and did some minimal stretching. I used a foam roller for the first time since before surgery. It was AWESOME!

Second, I would like to apologize for not blogging. I have no real excuse. I have not been busy. The only reason I have not written is that I was afraid of being  negative. I am trying so very hard to stay  positive and continue my healing journey.

I was very frustrated the last few weeks. My body is healing and I am feeling better, but I am not back to "normal." I do realize that my "normal" is not the average normal. I want to be training for ski season. I want to go into the snow covered mountains and slip, slide and play.

I told myself when I scheduled the surgery that I would be back to normal by Halloween. (my favorite holiday: which Trey and I celebrated by watching all four of the "Saw" movies instead of going out in our amazing costumes.)  Now I am thinking Thanksgiving.  What seems to be the problem you may ask? It is incredibly hard to explain. My stomach muscles are extremely tight. I feel like I have a bike tube wrapped tightly around my lower abdomen.  I have trouble bending over to touch my toes or bending sideways. I have trouble getting up and down off the floor. These things are all minor inconveniences, the real issue is that my incision is still leaking.  I cannot express the frustration of wanting to get on with my life and having to constantly change gauze pads, and drip, drip, drip. ARGH!!!!!!!

I have an appointment at 1:30 today to have it checked. I assume this is normal. What I am really looking for is peace of mind. To know that it is fine, to know it isn't another seroma, to know that I am still moving in the right direction is what I am looking for. I honestly believe it is what the doctor will say.

I sound like a spoiled kid. I should be thankful that I am healthy and that the surgery was successful. I went through the hardest thing I have ever been through and I am still standing to tell you about the experience. I know I should be patient and not get frustrated. I know I should be appreciative of the things I can do and not fixate on the things I can't do. For this, I apologize. I am not proud of myself for getting frustrated. I am a "glass half full" kind of girl.

Again, I apologize for not blogging during the time that the glass was half empty. Especially if you are reading this because you are going through something similar. It isn't all smiles and giggles. The struggle is real. The reality is a struggle. However, in the end, it will make us stronger!

3 weeks

3 Weeks or 1 Week (depending on the surgery)

The last few days in Jackson were beautiful.  Sorry I didn't blog.

I wasn't outside hiking and biking so don't worry. I am still following the doctors orders and taking it easy. I have been on some small walks and sat outside in a chair. The big news is I drove!!!  I went to the grocery, where I can't lift more than 15 pounds so I bought 3 avocados and some grapes. It didn't matter what I bought, I just wanted the feeling of independence and freedom.

I've been thinking a lot about what I thought my recovery would be like. I thought I would blog, catch up on reading, watch great movies, work on my cookbook and enjoy time off work and exercise. NOT how It is! This has not been a pleasurable break.  I can't get comfortable, ever. However, I feel a change coming...

My incision is looking good. Honestly, nearly undetectable to the untrained eye. Only one small spot is not fully closed yet (yes the leaking is annoying.) My insides are healing. Today I coughed and didn't feel like a horse kicked me in the belly. It felt more like a tiny unicorn. I can laugh (awesome!) Laughing was incredibly painful just a few days ago.  Getting up and down from seated or laying isn't as much of a chore. Standing and walking are bearable. I'm off pain pills.

I can't wait to wear normal clothes. If the incision were closed I think my clothes would fit. I still have swelly belly but not too bad. I'm tired of fat pants. I certainly don't want to go back to work at the fitness center wearing fat pants.

I'm feeling optimistic. The setback that led to the second surgery is just a tiny speed bump. My mental strength continues to build as my physical strength improves. I'm almost through this. And honestly, this has been tough but it could have been much worse. If this is my life's biggest battle I should count my blessings.

Toughness

Toughness


Toughness comes in many forms. In the case of my situation I am going to discuss two: mental toughness and physical toughness.

At the beginning of this cancer mess my body was strong, fit, and capable to handle the mental toughness of my diagnosis and the unpredictable road ahead. Now, after surgery and complications, my physical toughness is hanging on by a thread. It is now that I must call on my mental toughness to be the super hero.

My body is the weakest it has been. My bladder actually went to sleep and forgot that it has a job to do. Can you imagine the helplessness of trying to harness energy and motivation just to get a bladder going. I know how to fire my gluteus or my quads, but my bladder...

Using my batman light I called in mental toughness. Lindsey, you can handle this. A few more days and the body will be feeling safe and everything will function properly.  I walked two laps around my garage saying, a month from now you will be skiing.

Come on body...Be the Ying to my brains Yang.  I need you both.

Is this the drugs talking

Drugs Talking


It's likely the drugs talking but I'm out of the last surgery and I feel GOOD!  I tentatively looked under the covers and down to my stomach a few minutes ago and it looks flat!   The incision is thin and perfect. Thank you Dr.  Soisson and team. I have no idea how they turned that samari sword slice into this.

Bad Kangaroo

Bad kangaroo

Turns out the kangaroo pouch is bad news. It is a seroma. I'm sorry for not blogging but the last three days have been really difficult. With no sugar coating, here is the story:

I mentioned I was having bleeding after my long walk on Tuesday. When it continued over night I called my team at Huntsman. They advised going to Dr. Gerling in Jackson. She is the doc who diagnosed me. I called at 8:45 and by 9:15 she had used a scalpel to reopen the wound to release the seroma. Blood was everywhere. Like a haunted house zombie scene. I'm not exaggerating. She then debreeded the wound and packed it. Very painful steps.

At 4:30 the same day I was back with my best pal and as Dr. Gerling did it again, Elizabeth watched and took notes because she was to do it twice a day for 4-6 weeks. This time she poked a copper headed stick multiple times directly into the wound to cause blood clotting. OUCH!

Just so you understand the severity of the wound, it is 10 inches long and 3 inches deep. I have a picture that I'm not going to post.

Thursday was filled with pain, light headedness, temperature spikes, lack of appetite and total energy loss. I had similar symptoms to a person in shock. Emotional and physical setback was causing me to feel anger and depression and again I called Huntsman. I was monitoring my temperature closely overnight, until my Friday 1pm appointment.

After changing the dressing and repacking  the wound by my superhero best girlfriend/ stand in nurse, amazing woman, I had a somewhat difficult road trip to SLC. Thankful that Trey is patient, sympathetic and loving, we made it at exactly 1pm. At 1:01 I had my entire team looking at me. Uncharacteristicly, when Dr. Soisson asked me how I was feeling, I started crying.

The team decided to readmit me to the hospital immediately and since Dr. Soisson is the weekend surgeon on call he would put me back together. The good news, best news, news that makes this a beautiful day is that my pathology on the lymphectomy  was CLEAN!!!  No cancer had spread!!

In a couple hours I'll be getting seen back together. The kangaroo has left the building.

Tetons Aglow

The Tetons are Aglow

Twilight and its magic colors paint the tips of the Tetons a pinkish orange. From my condo, I can look out the window and watch the ever changing Alpinglow. The wispy clouds close to the horizon are purple, as I look higher in the sky they change to a glowing blush. This is my favorite time of day to be outside. The wind glasses off and a calmness settles in the valley. Look West to the sunset or look East to the mountains reflecting the moment.

I want to run and jump and play.  I want to roll in the fall leaves. I am restless. Day 10 of only walking. I walked 4 miles today and was punished with abdominal bleeding from my incision. Nothing to be alarmed by. I called my nurse and she said I likely went too far despite the fact that it was painless. She suggested more frequent short walks. Now I'm stuck laying down to let the blood clot. Difficult considering every day at noon I self-inject blood thinner into my stomach. 

As I've written, the sun has set on another Wyoming day.  One more day of recovery. One day closer to ski season. These two things make me smile. One day closer...

Kangaroo Pouch

Kangaroo Pouch

First of all , If you are going to have a radical hysterectomy with lymph node-ectomy, here is what they don't tell you...

The body looks STRANGE post op.  It starts out like the Michelin man invaded you from knees to chest. Lots of swelling and rolls.  Then you look like Violet Beauregarde from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when she chews the gum and turns into a blueberry. This look comes because of the bruising.

Now I'm 8 days out and I would describe my current look as kangaroo pouch. I don't just have a kangaroo pouch, I can feel the baby kangaroo inside the pouch fighting to get out. He pulls and pushes against my skin. Mostly when I sit or stand.

Despite my pouch, today was my best day yet. My tummy is starting to look more normal.  The swelling is slowly going down. The strips are still holding my incision together but I'm starting to realize I might eventually get back to my pre cancer self.

Trey took both of us on a walk (me and baby kangaroo.) We went to the feedlot where the leaves have fallen. The weather was cool and we walked along the river.  Having jogged on that path many times I wished I could be running, but I was thankful to be walking.  Only a week ago my big activity was a small loop around floor 5 of the hospital.  And the beauty of the Snake River with its fall colors beats floor 5 anytime.

The baby kangaroo started to get restless as we made our way back to the car, reminding me that I can't take things too fast. I must listen to the baby kangaroo.

The guard dog

The Guard Dog

In the hospital my dad brought me a tiny bulldog stuffed toy. I would put the dog on my chest or on the edge of the bed. If a nurse came in with a needle to give me a poke, the dog would start growling. That little guy was my guard dog.

My mom brought me two pillows with handmade pink pillow cases. It wasn't the pillows I loved, it was that the cases smelled like "home."  Home to me isn't a particular house or location. Home to me is people.  Having those pillowcases, that little dog, and my parents meant I was home.

Coming back to Jackson made me realize how much my new home is similarly based on people. Trey is my new home; as well as my neighbors, clients and friends. I am certainly glad to be home.

I am headed home!

Angels Landing

Angels Landing

Angels landing is a popular hike in Zion National Park, Utah. I am also naming the Cancer Center at Huntsman Angels Landing.

From the moment I walked into the building I was met by beautiful, caring, helpful Angels. As I fell under anesthesia I will never forget the male angel who held my hand, and with the other hand on my heart he said "We will take good care of you."  He comforted me, he made me feel safe, but more importantly, he told me the truth.

Post op as I woke up from what I assumed was a bike wreck, I was surrounded by angels who knew exactly what to do and say as I floated in and out of reality. One poor nurse was mistaken by me as a male in a ponytail. I could not figure out why he was not wearing a helmet so I continued to lecture him. Shortly later, realizing it was actually a beautiful female nurse! I embarrassingly apologized.

Later, I was brought to the 5th floor (Angels Landing) where nurse after nurse and doctor after doctor, each armed with a quiver of magic arrows to make me feel better, came in and out of my room. Beautiful, smart nurses with perfect skin and giant hearts answer my multiple questions with genuine sweetness.

 A doctor came in near midnight, on crutches, after having a climbing wall accident just to tell me she wanted to say hello since she was in the hospital (with her own torn ligaments.). She stood on her swelling ankle and chatted calmly and carefully as if she had nowhere she would rather be, even though she must have been terribly uncomfortable in her robot boot.

My male aid, Cody, spoke with me of our shared love of desert adventures and he taught me how to say hello and goodbye in Czech. My first nurse, Lindsay (awesome name) was a personal trainer before becoming a nurse. Her student, Kristin, led me on my first walk with her tiny little hand. I feared I would squish her if I fell.  My current night nurse, Camille is the sweetest, tiniest angel who doesn't blink an eye at blood or guts or urine.  And at 3am when I was woken by a tech to take blood, not only did I not feel the poke, I could not quit staring at the most incredible pair of green eyes I have seen in my life.

And the true angel of my life right now is Trey. He has been up all hours with me supporting me, loving me, communicating for me and staying by my side no matter my mood or pain. I am proud to have such a good man loving me.

My parents are two more angles but that is no surprise to me as they have always been that way.

I am truly lucky and blessed to be surrounded by such a wonderful team. These care givers have dedicated their days, nights and weekends to helping cancer patients. It's 5am, I've just had a major surgery, yet if I didn't know any better (or if I had a few more shots of drugs) I wouldn't assume I was in a hospital, I would assume I had landed in heaven.

Road Trip

Road trip!

Time to head to SLC. I had an awesome "surge" pre surgery. I got everything situated at work and then Trey and I rode our ride bikes to Teton Village where I ate my favorite Som Tom (papaya salad) from Teton Thai. We charged through a sweet headwind home so we could have time to hike beaver mountain for a quick paraglide adventure. We ended the night with sandwiches and fries ( yes folks, I had both white bread and fried food. )

Now we drive. I can't wait to see my parents!  The silver lining is I get to spend some time with my favorite people.

Bag Packing

Bag packing...

I've packed my bags many times in life. I packed for a 6 month internship in Guam having no idea where Guam even was. I have packed for beach vacations: Hawaii, Jamaica, Costa Rica, Bahamas and more. I've packed for ski trips to Iceland, soccer trips to Italy, Aruba, Austrailia.  I have packed so many times I am actually a sponsored pro. 

I enjoy packing because as you lay out clothes and gear, you can see into the future the fun that will be had.  And honestly who doesn't like filling all those super tech pockets with useful accessories like waterproof Bluetooth speakers?

This time packing sucks. I'm packing my hospital bag. I have no idea what I will want or need. According to the Hyster Sisters website, social media and blogs I really need my "fat pants."  Super! Lindsey, don't forget your fat pants so you don't get disgusted trying to squeeze your swollen, cut up, tender belly into skinny jeans. Thanks captain obvious. 

Let's see, fat pants, check.  Underwear two sizes too big, check. Dignity, check. 

Oh yea. Hyster Sisters said not to forget the baby wipes. For what exactly? I thought a hysterectomy was a farewell to the uterus therefore a farewell to babies. Purely as a rebellious act I will refuse to bring baby wipes.  Take that!

Update

UPDATE: Surgery moved up!!

I moved my surgery to this Friday the 25th!

Food

Food, glorious food!

I aspire to write a cookbook. I have enjoyed the opportunity at 3 Creek Ranch to host a cooking class with our head chef to highlight and familiarize my clients with healthy and interesting foods. The class is called "Lean with Lindsey."

My favorite food in the world is tuna poke. I was exposed to tuna poke when I lived in Micronesia. Below is my favorite food, my favorite recipe, and my favorite way to impress guests. Enjoy!

My Favorite Tuna Poke

• 1/4 to 1/2 cup Tamari (Gluten free soy sauce)
• 1/2 tablespoon sambal oelek
• 1 teaspoon sesame oil (more to taste)
• 3 scallions, white and green parts separated, sliced thinly on the bias
• 2 cloves garlic, smashed and finely chopped
• One 1/2-inch piece ginger, peeled and grated
• 1/2 white onion, such as Maui onion, julienned
• 1 pound ahi tuna, cut into 1/2-inch chunks
• 2 tablespoons chopped dry-roasted macadamia nuts (can also use toasted sesame seeds or black sesame seeds as pictured below)

 

Combine the tamari, sambal, sesame oil, scallion whites, garlic, ginger and onions in a medium bowl. Toss in the tuna and let sit in the fridge for 30 minutes.

Stir in the macadamia nuts. Plate as desired and garnish with the scallion greens.

 

Adding a diced avocado is also delicious. This can be served with brown rice as a Poke Bowl. You can also serve in a lettuce cup or endive leaf.

 

 

Scaring yourself

The thrill of scaring yourself:

As you all know I am an adrenaline junkie. I love to ski off cliffs, ride a bike on the ledge of a mountain, jump from high points into water, etc.  As any extreme athlete will tell you, the secret to fearlessly pursuing these activities is feeling "in control" of the situation. I can ski off the cliff because I have spent 100's of days preparing my muscles, joints, tendons and mind. I've gone to Avalanche training, I have diligently studied the terrain, I've checked and rechecked my top of the line equipment. The same with biking, paragliding, sky diving, kayaking, or any activity.  I am strong and smart and prepared for what to do if something goes wrong. 

The point of this post is to tell you all what I did that scared me more than any previous wild idea...  I Google imaged abdominal hysterectomy. Bad idea! It's easy to forget when a doctor shows you a nice clean diagram of human insides that everything is surrounded by blood and fat and tissue. The image I saw was a gruesome hip to hip opening full of the remains of a great white shark attack. (If you Google it be prepared for sleepless nights and a bit of nausea.) 

I honestly wish I didn't see that image. Ignorance is bliss in this situation. The reason it is so scary is because I'm not in control. If I were a trained oncology surgeon and could do my own surgery that would be better. Instead, I will be knocked out with the control passed into the hands of a stranger. Giving control to a stranger is a foreign concept to a thrill seeker. It's like scuba diving without checking your oxygen tank.  It's like climbing the Grand Teton when someone else packed your pack. But here I go, cliff jumping into water I cannot even see!

What happens when?

What happens when?...

What happens when you are told you have cancer?  I went on a backpacking trip. The Teton Crest Trail would be my counselor. During my 3 day trip I decided I was on a reality show called "What happens when?"  The concept of the show is to break terrifying news to someone and see how that person reacts. The show has a panel of therapists, doctors and health professionals that judge your actions and reactions. Imagining that I was a contestant on the show I dealt with the emotions as I climbed, descended, scrambled and schlepped my way through the majestic Tetons. I screamed into valleys and cried beneath the flickering light of a thunder storm. Carefully stepping across jagged lose rocks I concluded that at the end of the trail it would all be fake and I would be handsomely rewarded for my ability to handle the news. Sadly, the end of the road had no camera crews or oversize checks with my name. I was at death canyon parking lot with the reality of the situation loaded heavier on me than my overstuffed backpack.

Now it's 2 weeks later. I've visited the Huntsman Cancer Hospital to have my options laid before me. Words like radiation, chemo, surgery, recovery and remission have been added to my daily conversations.

I'm not scared! I'm not sick! Just yesterday I ran a sub-1 hour 10k, climbed Beaver Mountain and paraglided back to the ground.

The plan is a radical hysterectomy scheduled for October 2. Not exactly how I prefer using the word "radical."  However this is my radical journey and I chose to share it with you.