March 29, 2021

After some disturbing symptoms, I made an appointment with my GI specialist, Dr. Mansour, to discuss and pursue a plan of action for dealing with them. During our session, he stated that my symptoms might be those for Crohn's Disease. With that in mind, we scheduled the colonoscopy, and I awaited the date.

 

April 15, 2021

I finished the horrible concoction that he prescribed, and I made my way to the hospital. All seemed normal, though I was still bleeding. All of the doctors, nurses, and staff got me prepped, checked every box, and the "cocktails" flowed.

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I woke up in the recovery bay, not really expecting to see my doctor until an appointment that I was sure would follow. About ten minutes after I was fully conscious, my doctor came to my bedside and sat down on a stool. His eyes said there was something amiss, and he began. "We went in thinking it might be Crohn's, but..." He paused. "But we found a tumor. Cancer."

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He told me about difficulties they had with the procedure and blockage percentages, and.. and.. and...

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I felt numb, and my eyes teared up.

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He said we would need to wait for the biopsy to confirm, but he was pretty sure and had done the appropriate markings and such while completing the procedure. He told me about a referral to a surgeon, and we wrapped up the conversation.

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May 7, 2021

After a couple of appointments with the surgeon, another examination in his office, and conversations with him and his physician's assistant, we had scheduled the surgery date. My brother had come down to take me to the hospital, had tried to reassure me, and in I went.

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As before, the doctors and nurses and staff came in, prepared me for what lay ahead, and started the cocktails. They wheeled me down the hallway to the surgical suite, and the last thing I remember, they had sat me up and told me they were going to give me a couple of shots in my back, one of which was morphine. They had me start counting backwards from ten, and I remember saying, "there it is," and lights out.

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I woke in a recovery bay with an amazing nurse that listened to me ramble through the last of the sedation and laughed along with me. (I was too goofy from the anesthesia to get his name.)

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About an hour later, I was wheeled to the room that would be my home for the next two and a half days. Machines, wires, tubes... the works. (I must admit that I didn't are for my daytime nurse.) My brother brought me my things, and the recovery began... Walking around the floor... Wondering how things would go from there. Then, two and a half days later, my parents came to take me back to my apartment.

 

They stayed for a couple of days to make sure I got settled and would be ok, and then I had to ask them to leave because I was going crazy with all three of us in a one-bedroom garage apartment, which my mom had already figured out.

 

May 24, 2021

My first appointment with my oncologist. He's truly amazing. He spent time getting to know me and discussing the treatment plan, and we set the first day of chemotherapy.

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June 7, 2021

Port day. It was actually kind of cool because they didn't fully knock me out, and the surgeon's nurse talked to me throughout most of the procedures. In and out. Easy peasy.

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June 16, 2021

I checked in for labs, though I was completely lost at first, and met with Dr. Musher. From there, I went to the infusion lab, for the first time, and met the amazing nurses that would become almost like family over the next six months. They explained everything about how the treatments would go, what each medication was for (plenty of them, let me tell you), and, the best part of the day, I got to meet someone I now think about quite often, my main nurse, Pam.

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That treatment lasted about six hours. It ended with them hooking up the pump that held the last phase of my infusion therapy, which lasted about forty-eight hours, each time. (I learned quickly that you always talk with your oncologist when the nausea kicks in with a vengence.)

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Oh, yeah! I learned very quickly that the lidocaine they gave me to deaden the area over the port was essential! 

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September 10, 2021

The school year had begun a couple of weeks earlier, and this was the day after had been my first treatment since returning to work (one had been delayed because the beginning of the year is always insane). The treatment had gone well, and I had decided that I was going to go to work and push through the side-effects that, at this point, had been largely reduced with medications. Well, all except the fatigue and weakness. I had figured out how to hid my pump and the attached tubes under my clothes so it wouldn't draw attention, and so I wouldn't have students asking me about it every other hour.

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By this time, I had gotten wiser and took my friend Keith up on his offer to come in on the weekends of my treatments to help out around the house and take care of my baby boy, Scruffy, while I rested. He did try to get me out of the house, but there were definitely those "not happening" days.

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And so it went, for most of the next few months.

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July 9, 2021

Full stop. Do not pass go. Do not collected $200. 

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This was my first appointment with my therapist. I had started noticing the signs of depression and my sleep was complete crap. Being a counselor-in-training, I had asked Dr. Musher about a therapist that worked with his patients, and he referred me to the amazing Dr. Bradford. Some dark times, but I am eternally grateful that she helped me get through them.

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October 21, 2021

After dealing with some neuropathy for a few treatments, Dr. Musher and I decided to discontinue the oxaliplatin and start me on Cymbalta to treat the neuropathy. Off to infusion and my amazing nurses, and then home with the pump, again.

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October 23, 2021

A trip to the hospital due to elevated temperature and what I found out was a UTI caused by a kidney stone. Surgery scheduled for the next day to place stents. This just happened to coincide with the last day of my chemotherapy through the pump I had been leaving with for the last part of my infusion therapy. It went off just as they were about to wheel me in for the procedure. (Great timing... hahah)

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Chemo continues.

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November 5, 2021

Back we go to the hospital, this time to have the stones blasted and stents inserted.

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November 23, 2021

Last time in. Thankfully. And the stones are munched and crunched and time for the flushing. The only thing that remained was to have the last stent removed (in-office).... YEESH!! I do not recommend.

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December 9, 2021

Bell Day! Gifts purchased and delivered. Breakfast (tacos, donuts, and coffee) for the nurses and staff. 

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Thankfully, on this day, my friend Keith came with me. It was definitely bittersweet. My nurses are amazing, and I kind of miss them. (Note to Self: See about dropping by on next visit.)

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Infusion complete, pump hooked up, music playing, hugs, smiles, photos. Bell x3. Home we go. This time, I didn't go to work the next day.

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December 11, 2021

My true last day of chemo. The beeping sounded. Gloves... the smell of alcohol... the final pinch... Done!  Thank goodness for nausea pills.

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...

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March 9, 2024

Chemo left me with a few parting gift, of course. The loss of my upper frequencies in hearing (thank goodness for hearing aids). Seemingly eternal colon inflammation. A digestive system that is still figuring itself out, almost three years later. Crazy depression and anxiety that I'm working my way through (thank goodness for modern medicine and therapy).

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The funny thing? It also left me with some good things, too. Gratitude for my amazing care team who continue to take care of me, even though I don't need to see them as often. From day one with Dr. Mansour, to today, I couldn't have asked for a better team. It also left me with closer bonds with some of my friends and family who were with me throughout the journey. I didn't always tell them what I was going through, but I hope they understood. It was definitely not sunshine and roses, but I am blessed to be able to tell the tale.

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I hope that my story, in someway, even in some small way, can bring you a little bit of hope as you walk this journey with cancer.

 

Please remember that you are not alone in this.

 

I would be honored to walk by your side throughout this part of your path. May you be blessed!

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Special thanks to:

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Keith Pinkston, my rock

Scruffy, my amazing fur baby and the best nurse anyone could ask for

Micah Fincher (my brother)

Roy and Wanda Fincher (my parents)

Dr. Nabil Mansour

Dr. Atif Iqbal

Ms. Ashley Waldon

Dr. Benjamin Musher

Mr. Michael Bird

Ms. Pam and all of the nurses and staff at the Dan L. Duncan infusion lab

Dr. Andrea Bradford, a godsend for sure

Dr. Shyam Sukumar

Mr. Umer Virk