A CAT/Katz Kind of Day.

I had a CAT scan done this week at NYU in the city. Frank and I have made a tradition out of the day, by having the CAT scan done, following with a meal at the famous Katz’s Deli on Houston Street, so we refer to it as our CAT/Katz kind of day. 

So, like everything else in the last couple of months, I tend to look at things that happen in my life with more perspective, more analysis, and a lot more appreciation. I am a people watcher, so you can sit me just about anywhere, and I can entertain myself for quite a while by watching the people around me. Especially in a restaurant when I see two people at a table, I immediately try to figure out their scenario. Father/daughter or boss/assistant, husband/mistress, or two friends, sisters, siblings, cousins I think you get the idea. But of late, my ideas take me to a different place of curiosity. I look at their overall appearance, I look to see if a lady is wearing a wig, or if I see someone limping, I wonder what is causing it. I have become so aware of my own health, that now I look at other peoples too.  

Prior to going for my CAT scans, I have to pre-medicate because I am allergic to the contrast die they inject into me to get the images. Of course I am allergic! Why not!?  So, I take Prednisone (a steroid) the night before and again that morning, to help counter act any reaction I may have. Also, I cannot eat for 3 hours before the exam. By the time I get to the hospital, the steroids are in full swing, and I am talking 100 words every 12 seconds, my leg is bouncing and I am hyped. The really good thing about the steroids, is they take away all of my pains. So now I am hyped up, pain free, and reallllllly hungry! Ok, we sign in, sit and wait for the barium for me to drink. YUM! Fruity Tuity! So delish… actually, it is not that bad, and goes down pretty easily. I also have to now take 2 Benadryl’s (also to help any allergic reaction), and in 15 minutes I go from whhhhhhhhheeeeeeee let’s have a party; to… does anyone have a pillow?   

Sadly, the nurses and radiologists know me here. They come out and call each patient one by one with a questionable tone as they say each name, not knowing who will be answering. When it is my turn, she calls “Nanci Cacossa” first with a question, then say’s “oh! It’s you! How are you?” Great… what an honor for me to be known so well at the Radiology floor!  

This time, Evan joined us, so as we waited the hour for me to drink my Fruity-Tuity,  Frank reads the paper then nods off for a bit (he has been up since 3:00 AM, it is now 5 PM), Evan is typing away on his phone, blogging for his Islanders Checking Line assignment, and me….. I am watching. Hummm, the girl across from me seems very healthy. She is young, pretty, thin... I wonder why she is here. Then they give her the barium drink… Uh oh! Stomach issues…  She had noticed I also was drinking the potion, and started to ask me a lot of questions on how this stuff would affect her. I can tell she is very nervous so I calmly tell her how my body processes it, but explain that everyone is different, but not to worry, she is in good hands. More questions… I answer… She seems to be a little more at ease now which is good for her. I REALLY wanted to ask her why she was there, but common sense told me not to… Ahhhh, out comes the woman who is dressed like she is a CEO of some kind of bank. Ya know, very businesslike, standing and walking straight up, she is skinny with heels on from Easy Spirit. Yup, there she goes, boy does she remind me of Mrs. Hendrickson (a 6th grade teacher - real meany)… No eye contact going in, none coming out. Bye, and have a great day, I thought. But then the notion came to me about why she may have been there, and why she may not have been smiling or making eye contact, remembering she wasn’t there for a social visit. I wonder what is wrong with her, and to myself I hope that she is OK and finds her smile again.  And then, there was “the man”, the one who keeps smiling my way trying to bring up a conversation with me. He sat there drinking his gallon of water (no barium for him), his legs were crossed wearing beige slacks, his black coat was folded across his lap, and his arms were crossed over his coat. This whole image struck me odd. Here he was trying to make eye contact and chat, yet every part of his body language was saying, “leave me alone.”… Again, no clue as to why he was there, one thing about this place is they are VERY private. As I was heading in for my exam, a much older gentleman was being assisted out. He had a portable oxygen tank with him and the hoses up to his nose. Now with him, I had an idea of why he was there, and all I could think of was how difficult his days could be having to lug that huge tank around with him where ever he went. But that tank is his lifeline. I bet he has very strong shoulders.  

I go in, I lay down, I smile for the imaging machine. They inject me with the contrast, they take another set of pics, and then my eyes, ears and throat start itching, my nose starts running, test is over. They escort me to a waiting room, and give me a blanket and hot tea and monitor me for about 15 minutes to make sure I am ok to go. I am good to go, and Frank, Evan and I go to Katz’s Deli!

I love Katz’s. Not only do I think they have the best pastrami in town, I love the whole hustle and bustle of the place. Six men standing behind the counter cutting up pastrami, corned beef and brisket for sandwiches, while putting samples on plates on top of the counter for customers to try. Each man has a “TIP” cup in front of him, as he yells out “NEXT, step down please” to those waiting on line. We always tip them, because the more you tip, the bigger your sandwich!

“Three pastrami’s on rye please, two with mustard, and we like the half sour pickles not the sour ones please”… they are so happy to oblige, especially when they see you tip them!

We get our sandwiches, fries and potato latkes, and split everything. Total enjoyment.  

Again, I sit and watch all the folks around us. New York City, has some very interesting people there, so this is really a great show for me! Here I don’t think of medical issues though, I think of what their lives are like. Where they work, where they came from, what language is that!!?? Oh, the pastrami is so good…  

Time to hurry home now, because the barium/contrast die cocktail is starting to make noises in my stomach. This means I need to be home within the hour! Whew… made it in time…  

The results came back today. I am not surprised at all. Some of the cancer spots are the same, others show mild increases in size. The newest of chemos (Abraxine) is not working. It is supposed to be part of the Taxol family and work better than Taxol. But, as I have always thought, a medicine only works as well as the individuals body will allow it to. I will probably start yet another chemo type on Tuesday. I wish Dr. S. would let me try the Taxol again. He has the product, and the allergic reaction I had is an enigma to all on many levels. I still say it was a fluke, and let’s try again. He feels that once an allergic reaction presents itself, it is not worth to take a chance and put one’s life on the line for their throat to close up. I guess that’s why I am not the doctor and he is! 

 Not to be a “Debbie-Downer” so to speak, but I am a realist, and have a very good understanding of what the statistics say about the life span expectancies for ovarian cancer patients. I recognize that some women can fight it once and never have to look back again. I know that others can fight once or twice and may not come back for years or ever. Then there is me. I have been fighting on and off (MOSTLY on) for three years, and as of now, I still have a fair amount of the disease in me and have not been in remission for a year. And if I do go into remission, the question is for only how long before the beast resurfaces itself, for me to fight it again? According to what statistics say, life expectancy for OC patients such as me is about 5 years. My dear friend Louisa lived only for 4 years after her diagnosis, and although her journey was much different than mine, and more difficult, the reality is right in front of me. In the last two months or so, I have been listening to the whispers my body has been telling me with its pains and weakness, and I feel it is fair to say, that I will be part of this statistic, which really sucks, but it’s OK. I still have time to live, love and breathe, and that is what I will do for as long as my body allows me.

Harley... He just always knows. xoxo

My Wonderful Buffalo Sisters

As I pass through the three year mark of my ovarian cancer journey, I have been making the time to reflect back on my life and see how blessed I am to have the wonderful women that I do in it. Sorry guys, this is not about you this time!

I have my Baldwin sisters, my Buffalos sisters, my cancer sisters and many other sisters that I have met along the way that are also a big part of my life. I use the word sisters because they are more than just friends to me. Each of them has had a positive impact on my life in one way or another. I have known many of them since we are children and some since our college days, which are the ladies I have had the honor of watching grow into beautiful strong women. In this blog, I will talk about my Buffalo sisters:

2001

Helen's 50th - 2011

A few weeks ago I went to dinner with my Buffalo sisters (as I lovingly refer to them). We do our best to get together for each of our birthdays, especially now as some of us are becoming the big “50”! They are my dear friends that I made at the University of Buffalo. Jody couldn’t be with us, so we were minus one. As we sat at the table, I mentally removed myself and looked at each one them, thinking of what they looked like when I met them in 1981, what they were like then and who they have each become 29 years later. So much life has transpired between then and now. Between getting married, having kids, getting divorces, getting remarried, losing parents, illnesses, jobs, job losses, 9/11 and so on, the one thing that stood out to me, is that they are all survivors. We are all survivors. As I was listening to our conversations, I noticed the difference in our reactions to situations of present, versus the way we would have responded to them then. Geez, we are really grownups now! How did that happen?! We are proud moms, worried moms, and hopeful moms. We are loving aunts, and dear daughters and sisters. Each of them hold wonderful jobs (I used to, but not any longer due to the beast), and are successful within their careers and within their lives. Each of the five of us has very different family dynamics, yet, we are all the same. We love, we care, and we embrace them.

Gayle's 50th - 2011

While we were taking our turns updating each other on our lives, I also noticed the drastic difference in our topics of conversation this time. Usually, we talk about fun and happy things, yet this time, we were more solemn. We talked about mom’s that now need our care, our kids that are now in college, our kids going to college next year, sisters that we love or love because we have to, dads that are getting up there in years, and although are doing well, we can see the changes of getting older in them. And, of course we talked about cancer. One of these ladies is a breast cancer survivor, so two of the five of us have been stricken by this horrible disease. She thank G-d is clean and doing very well.

Relay for Life - June 2009

I have been through so much in my own life that I can relate to many of the issues that came up. But the one that really affected me the most was when Gia and Connie (names changed as this is personal info) talked about their moms. It is so apparent of how much they give of themselves to caring for them, the way their mom’s cared for them as they grew up. It is not an easy task for them physically or emotionally. Gia’s mom lives in the bottom half of her home, so pretty much Gia is on call 24/7. She works full time, and comes home to take care of mom. Her day starts with mom at 5 AM every day, even the weekends. She has six siblings of which five live locally and help out, as well as her wonderful husband who is so incredibly kind. Gia accepts her responsibility and assists her mom with a golden heart. That is just who Gia is, and always was. I call her Saint “Gia”!

Connie’s mom lives in NJ, and Connie lives in NYC so for her, she works full time in the city, then commutes to NJ to see her mom and help out where she can. She is one of 3 sisters of which one is not helping out at all. Connie’s mom suffered from 5 plus strokes in a very short time and has watched her mom go from a brilliant, assertive and strong woman to someone who has lost her short term memory, and needs care around the clock. This is a devastating change to see in anyone, especially someone you have looked up to and has been there for you up to the day she got ill. When Connie was telling us about her mom, her whole face changed. Connie is a gorgeous brunette with big doe-like eyes whose makeup is always perfect with a bright smile, but when talking about mom, her sparkle faded, she was saddened and distraught. I have seen Connie go through life’s BS before, but this was different. I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her and let her know everything will be ok. I wanted her to be able to feel the strength I could share with her that we can all share with her, so she knows she is not alone. Connie is an amazingly strong and passionate woman, but no matter how strong we are, it makes us stronger to have support, and know you are not alone.

When I got home, I looked through our pictures from our years in college, from living in the dorm to moving off campus. And then I reflected on the years in between. Each moment at the time seemed to last forever, but now looking back they were all very small chapters of a lifetime of memories gone by. I love my Buffalo sisters with all of my heart. They put up with so much of my drama (as I did theirs), there were times when they were mad or fed up with me, but they stuck with me. They loved me unconditionally, as I do them. They have fun stories of me that only they can laugh to (IE: Gloria), they knew me as the student that really wasn’t, the one who had the temper, the strong mind and will and the one who would fight for them and with them no matter what. We lived together for years in a house with ONE bathroom! Hello!! That was SIX girls with ONE bathroom, and we made it work.

Looking back I see that our love and respect for each other started way back then, almost 30 years ago. How blessed I am to have fallen where I did, to allow me to meet these wonderful ladies, that have improved my life and who I have become.

I love each of you and will forever.