The reason why I haven't updated this isn't because my chemotherapy finished or I didn't have any more hospital visits...
It's because I forgot my password. hah.
Since then I went back to the hospital because of a fever but it was only for over night.
Funny story.
I was admitted to the emergency room where they administered fluids and tried to get my heart rate and fever down.
Finally they got where they wanted me and they stopped fluids and told me they were going to send me upstairs for overnight.
I was fine with that.
But when they unplugged me from the fluids they didn't say wait here and someone will get you, they merely said you're done.
So with Gunnar, and now his future wife, Becca I walked upstairs to the third floor.
I felt fine enough to walk there and so I did.
The only problem was that they didn't know where I went.
And they were looking for me all over downstairs.
Either way I had a wonderful stay where I had a total of four different nurses that I had never met and two CAP where one I knew very well and the other I don't remember.
The night consisted of me doing various brain nerve tests to make sure my fever didn't cause any damage every four hours. That was fun.
But all the nurses were wonderful. Especially Scott.
-------
Because I lost my password this journal is going to be long because I need to catch you up.
-------
At the Dudley's Chiropractor I saw Natalie Lowe, she's married now and has a son.
She was babysitting for four kids over the week while their parents were gone for a vacation.
There was three girls and one boy.
The boy came up to me and just stared at me. He asked me why I was bald and I said I had cancer and the medicine made me lose my hair.
I asked him if he wanted to feel my head and he quickly shook his head, Natalie felt it and then he did.
He said it felt weird.
Next his sister came up and proudly said,
"YOU LOOK LIKE A BOY. WHAT DO YOU HAVE CANCER OR SOMETHING?"
I said and she backed away like I had the plague.
"WHERE IS IT? IS IT IN YOUR BRAIN? IS YOUR HEAD GOING TO EXPLODE?"
I answered no and proceeded to tell her it was just in my torso and not my head.
Her other sister came up and asked, "Do you have cancer?"
I said yes.
Her sister began to tell her, "SHE'S GOT CANCER IN THE HEAD AND HER HEAD IS GOING TO GET BIG AND LOOK FUNNY."
I corrected her. Again.
At the time I had just been released from surgery from removing a tumor from my left side of my neck.
They asked me if they could see my stitched but I said no, telling them I didn't want to get it infected.
As soon as I left the building I told Gunnar, and suddenly the whole situation was hilarious and I couldn't stop laughing.
So far that's my favorite story to tell besides the mix up I had with my first surgery.
------
My hair is growing in.
It's super soft, like baby hair.
At first it looks blonde, but I want to quench everyone's thoughts about it.
It looks red.
And so I deem to red.
Hopefully this won't come back to bite me and end up blonde.
Because they tell you not to count your eggs before they hatch.
-------
Regarding my last post where I said I knew what I wanted to be with my career.
It's not an oncologist or a nurse or anything medical.
It's to be a pilot.
And not one for the Air Force, thought that would be fantastic. My medical history would easily make me a unwanted applicant.
I want to be some kind of pilot though.
Friday I'm taking John Hruby up in the air with me. I'm very excited. I'll type about that when the day passes.
-------
I'm officially cancer free and in remission for the next five years without Radiation.
That's freaking sweet.
Thank you to the people who have read all my posts and commented about it to me, it does mean a lot.
Annika Severts
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Saturday, November 5, 2011
This Is My Last In-Hospital Chemotherapy Session.
And I'm secretly heartbroken about it. I usually hide my emotions in the dark besides happiness, excitement, and my serious face. So I'm happy I am able to cry in secret in the dark so no one will see it. Unless someone unexpectedly barges in here.
This hospital, has caused me grief and happiness to end. I'm have a mixed feelings and experiences in this building. But because of tonight, 11/5/10 at 6:00 A.M. I can say it's all been a great experience.
I'm still crying right now, it's 6:42 A.M. and my eyes blur from the tears and I have to blow my nose. I can only hope my typing and blowing doesn't wake up Grant who is sleeping next to me.
You've all read enough about my bad experiences, so let me tell you why I'm ending this whole thing with a happy note and not upset about it.
The things that happened during these three short months that will forever be in my mind and heart.
Let me tell you why, or more of who made me feel these emotions, I'm crying at 6:56 A.M. in the morning. My dear, sweet, nurse Dave. I won't tell you all about our conversation. But it was the usual kind I do to my nurses or caps. Like, Why did you choose this job? How long have you worked here, yada-yada. I asked him, What is the best part of being a Nurse? and why Oncology?
He surprised me and said, "The best factor of being a Nurse, is being there for someone who is dying. Because there whole family is watching you going, 'What going on? What's going on?" And you have to help them understand the process and help them go through this hard time. And then, you're helping the sick person move on comfortable. You make sure they're not in pain, and they're as comfortable as can be. And you get to help them pass on. That's why I like being a Nurse."
And I'm thankful for the darkness at that point because the tears were secretly rolling down my cheeks.
And this is why I'm so heartbroken of leaving this hospital It's not very likely I'll see these people again. These people who have taken care of me, and I've learned to love with all my heart. And I'm crying. I'm crying because my cancer is ending, and I won't stay up late on ativan entertaining my family. Or having deep conversations with my Nurses and Caps. I won't get to learn more about them as my as I want to. And I'm going to be a giant crybaby when I have to leave. Which is probably why I'm kind of keen on leaving at night. Have the darkness to cover my face so i can cry quietly to myself again.
They call me The Sweetheart of 4-South. And I'm so happy they enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed them.
"We get these patients, who aren't doing so well and they don't really get better. or Patients that just come and go and don't stay. Or just stay at night and leave in the morning. So you are different Annika. We saw you gradually get better and it was cool. You were different. And it was cool to get to know you and see how well you've improved."
Dave.
it's 7:09 A.M. I'm still crying. But, I'm happy.
Annika Severts
This hospital, has caused me grief and happiness to end. I'm have a mixed feelings and experiences in this building. But because of tonight, 11/5/10 at 6:00 A.M. I can say it's all been a great experience.
I'm still crying right now, it's 6:42 A.M. and my eyes blur from the tears and I have to blow my nose. I can only hope my typing and blowing doesn't wake up Grant who is sleeping next to me.
You've all read enough about my bad experiences, so let me tell you why I'm ending this whole thing with a happy note and not upset about it.
The things that happened during these three short months that will forever be in my mind and heart.
- I learned that I finally look like my brothers with a bald head. It's been a secret dream of mine since I was a child. To look like my brothers, not bald.
- I've grown a lot closer to several of my friends.
- I got to meet all the wonderful Doctors that think about me and talk about me with each other, and know their personalities by heart.
- I've met some great people I never thought I would get to know.
- There are certain Nurses and CAPs that I want to forever remember in my heart. And keep tabs on like they keep tabs on me during the day.
- I grew closer to all my brother's girlfriends.
- I've taken big strides in maturity. I am not a 16 year hold. I feel more like a 20 year old with all the things I've been through.
- I've learned what I'm going to do with my life.
- I've learned the love of my friends and family is deep, warm, comforting, and I love them so much.
- I've learned to love the feeling of able to come home and have a dog just crying she's so happy to see you. And your own bed to sleep in and not have someone interrupt you every 4-6 hours.
- In Cancer, you can always have your off days. But keep them very limited. Because you don't make the nurses/caps/families jobs any easier in taking care of you. I had my off days, but the rest of the time I was cheery and thankful.
- I love going to Church, it's a little escape for me to go to after everything has happened.
- I finally watched General Conference, on my own, and loved every minute of it.
- But most of all,
- I grew even closer with my family. And that is the great gift of all.
Let me tell you why, or more of who made me feel these emotions, I'm crying at 6:56 A.M. in the morning. My dear, sweet, nurse Dave. I won't tell you all about our conversation. But it was the usual kind I do to my nurses or caps. Like, Why did you choose this job? How long have you worked here, yada-yada. I asked him, What is the best part of being a Nurse? and why Oncology?
He surprised me and said, "The best factor of being a Nurse, is being there for someone who is dying. Because there whole family is watching you going, 'What going on? What's going on?" And you have to help them understand the process and help them go through this hard time. And then, you're helping the sick person move on comfortable. You make sure they're not in pain, and they're as comfortable as can be. And you get to help them pass on. That's why I like being a Nurse."
And I'm thankful for the darkness at that point because the tears were secretly rolling down my cheeks.
And this is why I'm so heartbroken of leaving this hospital It's not very likely I'll see these people again. These people who have taken care of me, and I've learned to love with all my heart. And I'm crying. I'm crying because my cancer is ending, and I won't stay up late on ativan entertaining my family. Or having deep conversations with my Nurses and Caps. I won't get to learn more about them as my as I want to. And I'm going to be a giant crybaby when I have to leave. Which is probably why I'm kind of keen on leaving at night. Have the darkness to cover my face so i can cry quietly to myself again.
They call me The Sweetheart of 4-South. And I'm so happy they enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed them.
"We get these patients, who aren't doing so well and they don't really get better. or Patients that just come and go and don't stay. Or just stay at night and leave in the morning. So you are different Annika. We saw you gradually get better and it was cool. You were different. And it was cool to get to know you and see how well you've improved."
Dave.
it's 7:09 A.M. I'm still crying. But, I'm happy.
Annika Severts
Thursday, October 13, 2011
JOHN. LET ME BE YOUR SPOKESPERSON.
I was told today that my friend John has a product to improve the communication of Hospitals. Now I'm not sure about it or who exactly owns it but...
JOHN. LET. ME. BE. YOUR. SPOKESPERSON.
I am so sick and tired of all these problems we hit with the hospital just because of communication errors.
Let's start from the beginning.
1. First surgery after finding out I have Cancer and was surprised with a new family.
2. Getting the wrong amount of fluids
3. Getting Fendergan when the doctor said not to.
4. A CT scan being forgotten by the Doctor's assistant.
5. A CT scan and PET scan being rescheduled because someone scheduled them in the wrong order so we came in at 7 AM and then had to come back at 9 in the morning.
6. Getting a Nurse we said we didn't want.
- Today's problems.-
7. Not knowing if we were meeting our regular Oncologist because they didn't specify.
8. A receptionist trying to give my files to a four year old named Anna.
9. Having no clue that my surgeon was in his own surgery until we met for a surgical consult with his assistant.
10. Not knowing why we weren't meeting with our Oncologist and having his called.
10. Finding out that my surgery won't be on my right side of my neck, but the left side.
and I'm sure the list will keep going on and on.
Now I'm so thankful for certain traits I got from my father. When my mother becomes overly stressed with things that happen for no good reason and shouldn't happen in the first place, she just gives up and doesn't care about it because she has too much on her plate.
I on the other hand take after my father. I get so frustrated and fed up with what's going on. I take action and I'm very stern with the people I talk to. I'm not rude or impolite. I'm stern.
So the receptionist.
She was talking to a latino mom and pointed at our charts.
"Is this your address?"
"No."
"Your daughter isn't Annika?"
"That's actually us."
"oh! Your daughter is named Anna. I just saw the first three letters and went with the chart. Hahaha."
That was not amusing. I was having neck surgery. Their four year old could have ended up in surgery and I with whatever she had.
So we're sitting in the Surgical Consult's office talking about chemotherapy and what not. And suddenly a female comes into the room. She says that our Surgeon is currently getting a procedure done. Okay. And he's going to do the surgery on Friday or Saturday as planned.
Now we weren't sure why we were getting surgery done in the middle of chemo. It doesn't make any sense so we ask her to call my Oncologist. Now I'm so fed up I'm telling her to ask him to come here or give the phone to me so I can talk to him. I want to talk to him face to face. She says she'll ask questions and call him and come back to tell us what he said.
Now here's where my father come into my personality.
I'm sick of waiting around for answer. So I get up and leave and go find my doctor by myself. That's right. I return to MSTI Cancer Clinic to get answers.
"Welcome Back Annika."
"Do we have an appointment with Doctor 1?" ((Keeping his name a secret for obvious reasons.))
"Uhm. No. You have an appointment with Doctor 2."
"Why is that."
"Um. I don't know let me call and find out."
"Well is he here?"
"Yes."
"Let me talk to him."
I'm very stern and it's very evident I'm not very happy at this moment. She just reached over and grabs my hand and smiles real big and loving.
"Oh Annika. I love you. When something needs to be done, you just do it. Let me find him for you."
And just in luck. It was Doctor 1's turn for a slight earful as he walked in the door just as I turned around.
"Hey Annika."
"Hey. Why are we not meeting with you today?"
"It's just how your schedule came out."
"Well my mom and I have questions for you."
"Okay."
"Can we talk right now?"
"Um. No. I have another appointment and then a meeting at 12. I'll come to your room. okay?"
"Yeah. Perfect."
And I was fine with that. And then another nurse came in.
"Is your dad here?"
I was so mad.
"No. He's deceased."
"I'm sorry. If your mom or guardian here?"
"No. She's in the other building."
"Oh well I have your admission papers here for her to sign. I can send them over to the hospital for her to sign there."
"I have to go get her."
"That's fine. I have to call Dr. 2 to see where you'll be meeting. Either here or in the hospital."
"Why don't I bring my mom here and she can sign the papers and then we can see where Dr. 2 will meet us."
"Oh. okay. Yeah that would work!"
I went and got my mom and explained it to her a million miles per hour because I was frustrated with this whole non-communication we had going on in the hospital.
Either way Dr. 2 came and cleared things up immensely and made sense of why we're doing the surgery and why they were pushing it so much.
It's because the tumor could tell us whether we need to do Radiation or not. OH. FANTASTIC. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE??
Anyways. Several hours later Dr. 1 and A came into the room.
And I fired several same questions at him.
Why are we doing this?
What's the procedure going to be like?
And then I asked him another question.
"Where is my tumor located?"
They had said it was on the right side. He couldn't feel it.
So we looked at the scans and found it.
It wasn't on the right side.
Oh no.
It was on the left side.
That's right.
For like two weeks I had been told and believed it was on the right side.
Okay.
Thanks for the confidence.
Just. today is not a good day.
So John. PLEASE LET ME BE YOUR SPOKESPERSON.
JOHN. LET. ME. BE. YOUR. SPOKESPERSON.
I am so sick and tired of all these problems we hit with the hospital just because of communication errors.
Let's start from the beginning.
1. First surgery after finding out I have Cancer and was surprised with a new family.
2. Getting the wrong amount of fluids
3. Getting Fendergan when the doctor said not to.
4. A CT scan being forgotten by the Doctor's assistant.
5. A CT scan and PET scan being rescheduled because someone scheduled them in the wrong order so we came in at 7 AM and then had to come back at 9 in the morning.
6. Getting a Nurse we said we didn't want.
- Today's problems.-
7. Not knowing if we were meeting our regular Oncologist because they didn't specify.
8. A receptionist trying to give my files to a four year old named Anna.
9. Having no clue that my surgeon was in his own surgery until we met for a surgical consult with his assistant.
10. Not knowing why we weren't meeting with our Oncologist and having his called.
10. Finding out that my surgery won't be on my right side of my neck, but the left side.
and I'm sure the list will keep going on and on.
Now I'm so thankful for certain traits I got from my father. When my mother becomes overly stressed with things that happen for no good reason and shouldn't happen in the first place, she just gives up and doesn't care about it because she has too much on her plate.
I on the other hand take after my father. I get so frustrated and fed up with what's going on. I take action and I'm very stern with the people I talk to. I'm not rude or impolite. I'm stern.
So the receptionist.
She was talking to a latino mom and pointed at our charts.
"Is this your address?"
"No."
"Your daughter isn't Annika?"
"That's actually us."
"oh! Your daughter is named Anna. I just saw the first three letters and went with the chart. Hahaha."
That was not amusing. I was having neck surgery. Their four year old could have ended up in surgery and I with whatever she had.
So we're sitting in the Surgical Consult's office talking about chemotherapy and what not. And suddenly a female comes into the room. She says that our Surgeon is currently getting a procedure done. Okay. And he's going to do the surgery on Friday or Saturday as planned.
Now we weren't sure why we were getting surgery done in the middle of chemo. It doesn't make any sense so we ask her to call my Oncologist. Now I'm so fed up I'm telling her to ask him to come here or give the phone to me so I can talk to him. I want to talk to him face to face. She says she'll ask questions and call him and come back to tell us what he said.
Now here's where my father come into my personality.
I'm sick of waiting around for answer. So I get up and leave and go find my doctor by myself. That's right. I return to MSTI Cancer Clinic to get answers.
"Welcome Back Annika."
"Do we have an appointment with Doctor 1?" ((Keeping his name a secret for obvious reasons.))
"Uhm. No. You have an appointment with Doctor 2."
"Why is that."
"Um. I don't know let me call and find out."
"Well is he here?"
"Yes."
"Let me talk to him."
I'm very stern and it's very evident I'm not very happy at this moment. She just reached over and grabs my hand and smiles real big and loving.
"Oh Annika. I love you. When something needs to be done, you just do it. Let me find him for you."
And just in luck. It was Doctor 1's turn for a slight earful as he walked in the door just as I turned around.
"Hey Annika."
"Hey. Why are we not meeting with you today?"
"It's just how your schedule came out."
"Well my mom and I have questions for you."
"Okay."
"Can we talk right now?"
"Um. No. I have another appointment and then a meeting at 12. I'll come to your room. okay?"
"Yeah. Perfect."
And I was fine with that. And then another nurse came in.
"Is your dad here?"
I was so mad.
"No. He's deceased."
"I'm sorry. If your mom or guardian here?"
"No. She's in the other building."
"Oh well I have your admission papers here for her to sign. I can send them over to the hospital for her to sign there."
"I have to go get her."
"That's fine. I have to call Dr. 2 to see where you'll be meeting. Either here or in the hospital."
"Why don't I bring my mom here and she can sign the papers and then we can see where Dr. 2 will meet us."
"Oh. okay. Yeah that would work!"
I went and got my mom and explained it to her a million miles per hour because I was frustrated with this whole non-communication we had going on in the hospital.
Either way Dr. 2 came and cleared things up immensely and made sense of why we're doing the surgery and why they were pushing it so much.
It's because the tumor could tell us whether we need to do Radiation or not. OH. FANTASTIC. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE??
Anyways. Several hours later Dr. 1 and A came into the room.
And I fired several same questions at him.
Why are we doing this?
What's the procedure going to be like?
And then I asked him another question.
"Where is my tumor located?"
They had said it was on the right side. He couldn't feel it.
So we looked at the scans and found it.
It wasn't on the right side.
Oh no.
It was on the left side.
That's right.
For like two weeks I had been told and believed it was on the right side.
Okay.
Thanks for the confidence.
Just. today is not a good day.
So John. PLEASE LET ME BE YOUR SPOKESPERSON.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Light The Night
Thanks for coming you guys.
Here's a video for your entertainment!
Tis Becca and Gunnar after the walk!!
THE VIDEO!!
Here's a video for your entertainment!
Tis Becca and Gunnar after the walk!!
THE VIDEO!!
Monday, October 3, 2011
Man's Best Friend.
If any of you feel like you have no one to come home to or there's no one that loves you,
Get a dog.
Now before you go, "But they're so expensive and they smell and they poop and pee!!" let me give you my reasons.
I have a miniature Schnauzer and for many years I could've sworn she hated me. Granted I teased her and was a foolish child when I was younger so I don't blame her.
But every time, every time I came home from the hospital. Elli would cry and couldn't get close to me. This simple act of seeing her crying and snuggling into me, shows the purest kind of love.
Dogs know love. They show it through their steadfast loyalty and the way they are there for you. They can sense when you're sad, crying, angry, happy, and content. They just know.
The best example of this I can think of is my dog Piper.
Piper was a Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier.
She was my best friend.
She could look at you with her big brown eyes and you could just see how much she loved you.
She would always come up to you when you were sad and just sit with you.
She would lick my brother's hair.
And she taught my mom how to deal with cancer.
I followed Piper perfectly for medical problems.
She had pancreatitis.
Random fevers.
Throw up randomly.
Be up and down.
And most importantly.
She had Lymphoma Cancer.
But sadly Piper didn't make it.
We had to put her down.
And just like my dad, I miss her every single day.
She was so sweet and I remember how hard she cried when I came home from the hospital for Pseudo Tumor Cerbri. She jumped so high and she barked so loud.
Dogs are the best comfort.
I remember when I was in the hospital for those awful 16 days. They brought in dogs for me to pet and see.
When they left I bawled like a little child. I missed my dogs so much and wanted nothing more to see them and cuddle them.
So, if you're alone and need someone to tell you everyday that they love you.
Need you.
Depend on you.
Get a dog. I promise you, you won't regret it if you get the right dog.
Annika Severts.
Get a dog.
Now before you go, "But they're so expensive and they smell and they poop and pee!!" let me give you my reasons.
I have a miniature Schnauzer and for many years I could've sworn she hated me. Granted I teased her and was a foolish child when I was younger so I don't blame her.
But every time, every time I came home from the hospital. Elli would cry and couldn't get close to me. This simple act of seeing her crying and snuggling into me, shows the purest kind of love.
Dogs know love. They show it through their steadfast loyalty and the way they are there for you. They can sense when you're sad, crying, angry, happy, and content. They just know.
The best example of this I can think of is my dog Piper.
Piper was a Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier.
She was my best friend.
She could look at you with her big brown eyes and you could just see how much she loved you.
She would always come up to you when you were sad and just sit with you.
She would lick my brother's hair.
And she taught my mom how to deal with cancer.
I followed Piper perfectly for medical problems.
She had pancreatitis.
Random fevers.
Throw up randomly.
Be up and down.
And most importantly.
She had Lymphoma Cancer.
But sadly Piper didn't make it.
We had to put her down.
And just like my dad, I miss her every single day.
She was so sweet and I remember how hard she cried when I came home from the hospital for Pseudo Tumor Cerbri. She jumped so high and she barked so loud.
Dogs are the best comfort.
I remember when I was in the hospital for those awful 16 days. They brought in dogs for me to pet and see.
When they left I bawled like a little child. I missed my dogs so much and wanted nothing more to see them and cuddle them.
So, if you're alone and need someone to tell you everyday that they love you.
Need you.
Depend on you.
Get a dog. I promise you, you won't regret it if you get the right dog.
Annika Severts.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Bald
On September 10 of 2011 I became a baldy.
Now I know what you're thinking. WHAT?? YOU'RE BALD NOW??
Hear me out.
When I would wash my hair it could just come out in my hands. About three days of doing this and shedding and just being completely hairy....
I had a shaving party. Stephanie and John Hruby came, Barbara and Mike Brand were there, my brothers Grant and Gunnar with their girlfriends Alyssa and Becca. And of course my Mother.
I had everyone, yes everyone, in that room help cut my hair down so that they could shave it. But after awhile all the women huddled in a corner and chatted while the men began to have, as my mother said, "Having way too much fun."
The men took over and began to shave my head.
Now most people wonder if I cried.
The answer is No.
I was so frustrated with my hair that I was smiling the entire time they were shaving my head.
Being bald has brought two things to my attention.
1. My head gets really cold now.
2. I finally look like one of my brothers... Cameron.
It's a strange thing to be called the odd one out of your family... and suddenly your family is telling you, you look like one of your brothers.
I've entered a world I never thought I'd ever enter.
The world of looking like one of your siblings.
Now I know what you're thinking. WHAT?? YOU'RE BALD NOW??
Hear me out.
When I would wash my hair it could just come out in my hands. About three days of doing this and shedding and just being completely hairy....
I had a shaving party. Stephanie and John Hruby came, Barbara and Mike Brand were there, my brothers Grant and Gunnar with their girlfriends Alyssa and Becca. And of course my Mother.
I had everyone, yes everyone, in that room help cut my hair down so that they could shave it. But after awhile all the women huddled in a corner and chatted while the men began to have, as my mother said, "Having way too much fun."
The men took over and began to shave my head.
Now most people wonder if I cried.
The answer is No.
I was so frustrated with my hair that I was smiling the entire time they were shaving my head.
Being bald has brought two things to my attention.
1. My head gets really cold now.
2. I finally look like one of my brothers... Cameron.
It's a strange thing to be called the odd one out of your family... and suddenly your family is telling you, you look like one of your brothers.
I've entered a world I never thought I'd ever enter.
The world of looking like one of your siblings.
No Place Like Home
It's been a long time since I last posted on my little blog. A lot of unfortunate things have happened and a lot of fun things has happened.
I was admitted to the hospital 16 days ago for uncontrollable throwing up and another detail I'll spare you guys. It was supposed to be just an over night stay. And it ended up being a 16 day long roller coaster ride that seemed to have no end.
But I've learned which nurses I absolutely love and ones that I will forever request to stay the heck away from me.
I had an Oncologist for the first week who as wonderful and very cheery. He was LDS and we really liked him. But he couldn't figure out what was wrong with my sodium levels. ((This was the main reason why I was admitted to the hospital. My Sodium levels were extremely low and I was in danger of seizures or brain damage.)) I complained about my stomach hurting, but he said that was from constantly throwing up. He said I possibly could have SIADH which is a hormone that the brain regulates. He tried with all his might to keep things under control. Which he managed to do... through dehydration and not being able to eat food. That was torture.
The second Oncologist was from the Dominican Republican and was very quiet. When I told him about my stomach problems and another thing ((I'll save the details)) he ordered a CT scan and about four o'clock in the morning that nurses came in with pamphlets and yellow gowns. I had an infection and people now had to wear gowns and gloves when they entered the room. It wasn't because they were going to infect me or I was going to infect them. It was for other cancer patients. I was in isolation. This doctor helped my sodium levels and helped figured out what was wrong with me. But he was the one that made me have up and downs. I wanted to go home, and he wouldn't let me. I was frustrated and sad. Until they moved me from the smallest room to the biggest room. That helped my spirits.
And then I got my primary Oncologist. I begged him to send me home, I was doing well and was happy. Everything was good. But he had returned from a conference and learned that if a cancer patient was right on schedule for their second chemotherapy, and if their tumors decrease a certain percentage... I wouldn't have to do Radiation.
So we waited a day and then I started Chemo.
Now through his whole ordeal I have never been text book cancer patient. I mean... obviously my life wasn't fun enough that I had to be normal patient. But nooo I had to be the head scratcher.
Usually cancer patients going through Chemotherapy have a really hard time eating and have a terrible time with nausea. But this time around, I probably had only about a few moments where I felt nausea but I had an appetite. I was eating during this whole thing. Which is... bizarre. So I have a feeling this round of chemotherapy is going to be nice. And hopefully they'll continue to be nice. And not be a pain in the butt like they have been.
So even if you seem down and everything isn't going the way it's planned. Know it's going to make you a stronger person even if you don't know it at the time. You might not be able to see it, but others will.
Annika Severts.
I was admitted to the hospital 16 days ago for uncontrollable throwing up and another detail I'll spare you guys. It was supposed to be just an over night stay. And it ended up being a 16 day long roller coaster ride that seemed to have no end.
But I've learned which nurses I absolutely love and ones that I will forever request to stay the heck away from me.
I had an Oncologist for the first week who as wonderful and very cheery. He was LDS and we really liked him. But he couldn't figure out what was wrong with my sodium levels. ((This was the main reason why I was admitted to the hospital. My Sodium levels were extremely low and I was in danger of seizures or brain damage.)) I complained about my stomach hurting, but he said that was from constantly throwing up. He said I possibly could have SIADH which is a hormone that the brain regulates. He tried with all his might to keep things under control. Which he managed to do... through dehydration and not being able to eat food. That was torture.
The second Oncologist was from the Dominican Republican and was very quiet. When I told him about my stomach problems and another thing ((I'll save the details)) he ordered a CT scan and about four o'clock in the morning that nurses came in with pamphlets and yellow gowns. I had an infection and people now had to wear gowns and gloves when they entered the room. It wasn't because they were going to infect me or I was going to infect them. It was for other cancer patients. I was in isolation. This doctor helped my sodium levels and helped figured out what was wrong with me. But he was the one that made me have up and downs. I wanted to go home, and he wouldn't let me. I was frustrated and sad. Until they moved me from the smallest room to the biggest room. That helped my spirits.
And then I got my primary Oncologist. I begged him to send me home, I was doing well and was happy. Everything was good. But he had returned from a conference and learned that if a cancer patient was right on schedule for their second chemotherapy, and if their tumors decrease a certain percentage... I wouldn't have to do Radiation.
So we waited a day and then I started Chemo.
Now through his whole ordeal I have never been text book cancer patient. I mean... obviously my life wasn't fun enough that I had to be normal patient. But nooo I had to be the head scratcher.
Usually cancer patients going through Chemotherapy have a really hard time eating and have a terrible time with nausea. But this time around, I probably had only about a few moments where I felt nausea but I had an appetite. I was eating during this whole thing. Which is... bizarre. So I have a feeling this round of chemotherapy is going to be nice. And hopefully they'll continue to be nice. And not be a pain in the butt like they have been.
So even if you seem down and everything isn't going the way it's planned. Know it's going to make you a stronger person even if you don't know it at the time. You might not be able to see it, but others will.
Annika Severts.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Surprise?
I was just visited by two Elders of the Liberty Ward to check up on me spontaneously.
They were very nice and polite.
They came to see the mormons on the hospital with a list of peoples names.
The bald man looked at his list of names and looked at me.
"You just had a baby right?"
Gunnar and I started to laugh.
"No no no!! I have Cancer. But thanks for making me laugh."
I corrected him quickly.
Oh man.
I love awkward moments.
Annika Severts.
They were very nice and polite.
They came to see the mormons on the hospital with a list of peoples names.
The bald man looked at his list of names and looked at me.
"You just had a baby right?"
Gunnar and I started to laugh.
"No no no!! I have Cancer. But thanks for making me laugh."
I corrected him quickly.
Oh man.
I love awkward moments.
Annika Severts.
Friday, September 9, 2011
The Love of A Brother
Many people know and love my brothers. People tend to say they love Gunnar.
In this case, Gunnar is not the star of this little updated post.
A picture was texted to me from my brother Grant.
It was his red soccer shoes and told me to read what he had written on them.
I could not read it so I asked him to text me what it was.
"Right foot says, 'Annika'. Left foot says 'Dad.' In soccer my left foot guides me, like Dad. My right foot is my strength, because you are strong. May be cheesy but it keeps me focused."
I cried.
I love my brothers.
Annika Severts
In this case, Gunnar is not the star of this little updated post.
A picture was texted to me from my brother Grant.
It was his red soccer shoes and told me to read what he had written on them.
I could not read it so I asked him to text me what it was.
"Right foot says, 'Annika'. Left foot says 'Dad.' In soccer my left foot guides me, like Dad. My right foot is my strength, because you are strong. May be cheesy but it keeps me focused."
I cried.
I love my brothers.
Annika Severts
A Brief Phone Call
I'm in the fourth day of being in the hospital because of my sodium levels are dangerously low. Nothing has really helped and I've thrown up more this week than I ever really wanted to in the first place.
To be honest I'm pretty miserable but my family and friends keep me company through this rough time.
So far nothing really funny has happened in my hospital visit.
Nice things have happened like having the same people from my first chemotherapy session.
And having my legs and back rubbed by the adorable Becca. ((Gunnar's Girlfriend))
and all the popsicles I wanted. But no more. I'm being dehydrated again. Nnh. I hate it.
So the only thing really worth blogging about is a phone call from my hospital room today.
"Hello this is Annika."
It was an 59-65 year old woman by her voice.
"Who?"
"Annika Severts?"
"This isn't 333-3333 right?"
I don't remember the number she repeated back to me so I changed it.
"This is a hospital room."
"Is she in the hospital again?"
"I don't know. I'm a patient here."
"Oh hell. I'm so sorry for bothering you. They gave me this number as her cell phone. Sorry. Try to have a nice day."
"It's okay. Have a nice day too."
Thank you strange lady for calling me and making me smile and have something to blog about.
Annika Severts
To be honest I'm pretty miserable but my family and friends keep me company through this rough time.
So far nothing really funny has happened in my hospital visit.
Nice things have happened like having the same people from my first chemotherapy session.
And having my legs and back rubbed by the adorable Becca. ((Gunnar's Girlfriend))
and all the popsicles I wanted. But no more. I'm being dehydrated again. Nnh. I hate it.
So the only thing really worth blogging about is a phone call from my hospital room today.
"Hello this is Annika."
It was an 59-65 year old woman by her voice.
"Who?"
"Annika Severts?"
"This isn't 333-3333 right?"
I don't remember the number she repeated back to me so I changed it.
"This is a hospital room."
"Is she in the hospital again?"
"I don't know. I'm a patient here."
"Oh hell. I'm so sorry for bothering you. They gave me this number as her cell phone. Sorry. Try to have a nice day."
"It's okay. Have a nice day too."
Thank you strange lady for calling me and making me smile and have something to blog about.
Annika Severts
Friday, September 2, 2011
T-Shirts.
I feel like this post won't be as clever as my other ones, or as amusing. But I'll try my best at it.
With Cancer Comes Great Responsibility!!
Or more like...
Time. Lots and lots of time.
But being sick with Flannery gives me time to reflect and think about random situations or things that I could entertain myself with.
For those who don't know, I have a tablet. Or in easier terms... a flat surface on which you can draw on with a stylist that leaves no mark on the surface but on a blank template on your computer. Or.. a tablet.
I've had my tablet for about a year now and it's been a joy and a stress. Stress because of the artist blocks you receive if you aren't inspired. (( which I'm currently in one now. )) and a joy because you can suddenly color and erase mistakes that would be a lot more obvious on paper. It's a nice little gadget.
Now me being all... artsy fartsy and what not. I often think about what I can do to make my little adventure more fun. I mean, I can't be wearing the same Bold Tigers t-shirt to every doctor visit that I attend. That's kinda gross. I mean.. it is gross.
So I began to think.
and Imagine.
And I already have two t-shirts I want to design with my little tablet.
1. A shirt that has Iron Man and Uncle Fester holding hands. Thus making a logical sense with my blog title and how I often refer to myself as their love child now.
2. A shirt that has Iron Man's port over my port. Or.. energy conservator fancy machinery that is in the middle of his chest. Thus making logical sense of why I consistently call myself Iron Man. ( ( Who's movie which I received from my mother. Thank you. ))
And now to the shirt that I came up with while high on Ativan.
I had been recently disconnected with my friend Robbert (( the little machine that followed me everywhere who gave me my dosage of fluids and chemo. )) and had dressed to go home. At least... if memory serves me right. Ativan plus hospital stays tend to make your days mash a little together.
And I had an idea. A small witty idea that I shared with my Mother and brother Grant.
"You know those shirts that you get like from Niagara Falls that say; I went to Niagara Falls and I all I got was this T-shirt?"
My family members looked expectedly at me, knowing full well from previous days what I was like on Ativan.
"I went to the Oncologist and All I got was Cancer."
And thus the idea of a shirt was born. Is it inappropriate to create a shirt like that and wear it to my pediatrics cancer ward? Was it inappropriate when I sang 'Gory Gory what a hell of a way to die?' the answer to those questions is.
Yes.
It is highly inappropriate.
But I got to have my fun with it.
Now the final t-shirt story I have to tell does not come from my brain but from my brother Gunnar. Most people know and love Gunnar... and me being the closest to age still ponder about why so many people love him and why on earth he has a girlfriend.
Now skip to about 14-15 years ago when we were stationed in Hawaii. My birth place.
We were hiking up a volcano and I believe we were coming down.
And little Gunnar looked over the edge to see the long drop.
Now Gunnar as a child is like me on Ativan. We don't really think... we just zoom on with our thoughts whether they make sense or not.
He proceeded to tell my family.
"Whoa. Wouldn't want to lose me here."
My family thought that was hilarious. And I'm sure I did too at that age where I mimicked expressions and other useless baby actions.
So two christmases ago? Or one? When Gunnar was on his Mission to Peru, I made that shirt for him.
Now skip forward to about now. Probably around a week ago to where my mother was talking to him on the phone.
She started to laugh.
"Gunnar says he wants to wear his, "Woah. I wouldn't want to lose me here." shirt to the Oncologist office.
Severts family being highly inappropriate in certain situations but still wanting to do it anyways?
Accomplished.
So Gunnar. I expect you to be wearing that shirt one day to the Pediatrics Oncologist ward with me to get Chemo.
We may get funny looks, but hey.
What would we do without family and t-shirts?
Annika Severts
With Cancer Comes Great Responsibility!!
Or more like...
Time. Lots and lots of time.
But being sick with Flannery gives me time to reflect and think about random situations or things that I could entertain myself with.
For those who don't know, I have a tablet. Or in easier terms... a flat surface on which you can draw on with a stylist that leaves no mark on the surface but on a blank template on your computer. Or.. a tablet.
I've had my tablet for about a year now and it's been a joy and a stress. Stress because of the artist blocks you receive if you aren't inspired. (( which I'm currently in one now. )) and a joy because you can suddenly color and erase mistakes that would be a lot more obvious on paper. It's a nice little gadget.
Now me being all... artsy fartsy and what not. I often think about what I can do to make my little adventure more fun. I mean, I can't be wearing the same Bold Tigers t-shirt to every doctor visit that I attend. That's kinda gross. I mean.. it is gross.
So I began to think.
and Imagine.
And I already have two t-shirts I want to design with my little tablet.
1. A shirt that has Iron Man and Uncle Fester holding hands. Thus making a logical sense with my blog title and how I often refer to myself as their love child now.
2. A shirt that has Iron Man's port over my port. Or.. energy conservator fancy machinery that is in the middle of his chest. Thus making logical sense of why I consistently call myself Iron Man. ( ( Who's movie which I received from my mother. Thank you. ))
And now to the shirt that I came up with while high on Ativan.
I had been recently disconnected with my friend Robbert (( the little machine that followed me everywhere who gave me my dosage of fluids and chemo. )) and had dressed to go home. At least... if memory serves me right. Ativan plus hospital stays tend to make your days mash a little together.
And I had an idea. A small witty idea that I shared with my Mother and brother Grant.
"You know those shirts that you get like from Niagara Falls that say; I went to Niagara Falls and I all I got was this T-shirt?"
My family members looked expectedly at me, knowing full well from previous days what I was like on Ativan.
"I went to the Oncologist and All I got was Cancer."
And thus the idea of a shirt was born. Is it inappropriate to create a shirt like that and wear it to my pediatrics cancer ward? Was it inappropriate when I sang 'Gory Gory what a hell of a way to die?' the answer to those questions is.
Yes.
It is highly inappropriate.
But I got to have my fun with it.
Now the final t-shirt story I have to tell does not come from my brain but from my brother Gunnar. Most people know and love Gunnar... and me being the closest to age still ponder about why so many people love him and why on earth he has a girlfriend.
Now skip to about 14-15 years ago when we were stationed in Hawaii. My birth place.
We were hiking up a volcano and I believe we were coming down.
And little Gunnar looked over the edge to see the long drop.
Now Gunnar as a child is like me on Ativan. We don't really think... we just zoom on with our thoughts whether they make sense or not.
He proceeded to tell my family.
"Whoa. Wouldn't want to lose me here."
My family thought that was hilarious. And I'm sure I did too at that age where I mimicked expressions and other useless baby actions.
So two christmases ago? Or one? When Gunnar was on his Mission to Peru, I made that shirt for him.
Now skip forward to about now. Probably around a week ago to where my mother was talking to him on the phone.
She started to laugh.
"Gunnar says he wants to wear his, "Woah. I wouldn't want to lose me here." shirt to the Oncologist office.
Severts family being highly inappropriate in certain situations but still wanting to do it anyways?
Accomplished.
So Gunnar. I expect you to be wearing that shirt one day to the Pediatrics Oncologist ward with me to get Chemo.
We may get funny looks, but hey.
What would we do without family and t-shirts?
Annika Severts
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Name Behind Flannery.
So I often refer as the thing that manifests inside me as, Flannery. Or for people that quickly forget, my cancer.
It all started with a simple phone call from my Neighbor on the fateful night when I was told I had cancer.
"How you doing kiddo?" Jarod said.
Oh man, poor Jarod. I started to sob and cry.
"I miss you guys!!"
Anyways we started talking about cancer and I kept on referring to it as my cancer.
"You can't call it My Cancer."
"Oh? Why not?"
"It just doesn't really sound right. You gotta name it."
Okay, Jarod had a point. I was as far as a normal teenager as I could possibly get. I mean, for three days of a year I dress up in a box for like 10 hours. But that's for a different time far into the future.
"Well, what did your mom call it?"
"Oh well. Something along like f-ing cancer."
I started to laugh.
"I don't think my oncologist would appreciate that. He's a Mormon." And so was I.
"Pah. You Mormons!"
But we were both having a laugh.
And that conversation carried on to another one of my friends, Venus. Venus has been that friend that came in at an awesome time in my life, and then a not so awesome time too. I met Venus in one of our art classes in seventh grade and became best friends over a video game character she drew that I recognized. Our friendship grew with another one of my childhood best friends and we would practically hang out everyday. Most of the time, me coming to pick her up and trying to barge into her house. Because well... it made her and I laugh.
Anyways Venus came to see me I believe the day right after I was told. And we were outside.
"Venus. You gotta help me name my cancer."
"How about Bill?"
"Nah. What about Wilfred?"
"Ah yeah! Wilfred!!"
"And I can be like at school walking around saying. 'Ah man. I hate Wilfred. He kicks me all the time and he's just a real jerk. He just won't leave me alone!' and all you guys would be like. 'Annika, Who's Wilfred? I can, you know... kick him if you need me to."
"And then I'd fire at them. 'Wilfred is apart of me. Wilfred is inside of me."
We laughed and laughed at that. It was all fun.
Till I told my mother.
"That's hilarious! But you can't name it Wilfred."
"Why not?"
"It's too close to your father's middle name. Wilford. Unless, of course.. That's what you were going for."
It was not. But I was a little disappointed. Wilfred was such a good name.
But then I thought of an even better name besides Wilfred.
I have a friend name Dan. He's like... 7'9 million feet tall. Nah, he's more like 6'6 maybe? And still growing? He's going to be like the Jolly Green Giant. An all out love-able guy with a hilarious Bronchitis cough that just won't go away.
Now Dan has a sister as well. And he told me a story one day in Seminary.
"My sister and I named our stomachs."
"Really Dan. What are their names?"
(( Forgive me Dan if I mix up or get the names wrong in anyway.))
"Her stomach's name is Francois. And mine is Floyd. It has to be an F name if you're going to name your stomach."
Now skip to about almost half a year later to me sitting at the computer looking up baby boy names that start with the letter F.
And then I found it.
Flannery.
Flannery meaning: No meaning found.
Origin: Irish.
This was perfect. It was an F name, it was a name for my cancer, and most importantly... it was Irish.
Now I have thick red hair that people often mistake me for being Irish.
I always hated Saint Patrick's Day in Junior High. Standing in the lunch line as the man making sure you didn't cut the line or go over a certain point would mentally judge you to see if you were Irish or if he could make some sort of conversation with you. Even though, that's totally not the point of why you're in the lunch line in the first place.
It was my turn to wait at the empty space. Waiting to get my hot lunch when the man decided to fire away his question.
"Are you Irish?? You have red hair."
I really wanted to roll my eyes. But instead, I gave him a full Severts Genealogy run down in about ten seconds.
"No. I'm Dutch/Norwegian/German/Welsh/English/Viking/Scottish. NOT. Irish."
Beat that Mr. Lunch Man.
"What's your last name?"
"Severts."
"Dutch?"
Thank goodness it was my turn to join the others on the other side for the food.
I really disliked talking to the weird adults that stood, watching you over like a hawk to make sure you didn't break any sort of silent lunch room rule.
So Flannery was the name for me to chose. Naming my Cancer Flannery was amazing. At the same time I was pushing out the cancer from my body... but also pushing away that 'Fake' Irish ancestry that people always seem to think I have.
YOU'D BE MORE THAN WRONG TO THINK I'M IRISH.
I'm Dutch/Norwegian/German/Welsh/English/Viking/Scottish. And don't you forget it.
Annika Severts.
It all started with a simple phone call from my Neighbor on the fateful night when I was told I had cancer.
"How you doing kiddo?" Jarod said.
Oh man, poor Jarod. I started to sob and cry.
"I miss you guys!!"
Anyways we started talking about cancer and I kept on referring to it as my cancer.
"You can't call it My Cancer."
"Oh? Why not?"
"It just doesn't really sound right. You gotta name it."
Okay, Jarod had a point. I was as far as a normal teenager as I could possibly get. I mean, for three days of a year I dress up in a box for like 10 hours. But that's for a different time far into the future.
"Well, what did your mom call it?"
"Oh well. Something along like f-ing cancer."
I started to laugh.
"I don't think my oncologist would appreciate that. He's a Mormon." And so was I.
"Pah. You Mormons!"
But we were both having a laugh.
And that conversation carried on to another one of my friends, Venus. Venus has been that friend that came in at an awesome time in my life, and then a not so awesome time too. I met Venus in one of our art classes in seventh grade and became best friends over a video game character she drew that I recognized. Our friendship grew with another one of my childhood best friends and we would practically hang out everyday. Most of the time, me coming to pick her up and trying to barge into her house. Because well... it made her and I laugh.
Anyways Venus came to see me I believe the day right after I was told. And we were outside.
"Venus. You gotta help me name my cancer."
"How about Bill?"
"Nah. What about Wilfred?"
"Ah yeah! Wilfred!!"
"And I can be like at school walking around saying. 'Ah man. I hate Wilfred. He kicks me all the time and he's just a real jerk. He just won't leave me alone!' and all you guys would be like. 'Annika, Who's Wilfred? I can, you know... kick him if you need me to."
"And then I'd fire at them. 'Wilfred is apart of me. Wilfred is inside of me."
We laughed and laughed at that. It was all fun.
Till I told my mother.
"That's hilarious! But you can't name it Wilfred."
"Why not?"
"It's too close to your father's middle name. Wilford. Unless, of course.. That's what you were going for."
It was not. But I was a little disappointed. Wilfred was such a good name.
But then I thought of an even better name besides Wilfred.
I have a friend name Dan. He's like... 7'9 million feet tall. Nah, he's more like 6'6 maybe? And still growing? He's going to be like the Jolly Green Giant. An all out love-able guy with a hilarious Bronchitis cough that just won't go away.
Now Dan has a sister as well. And he told me a story one day in Seminary.
"My sister and I named our stomachs."
"Really Dan. What are their names?"
(( Forgive me Dan if I mix up or get the names wrong in anyway.))
"Her stomach's name is Francois. And mine is Floyd. It has to be an F name if you're going to name your stomach."
Now skip to about almost half a year later to me sitting at the computer looking up baby boy names that start with the letter F.
And then I found it.
Flannery.
Flannery meaning: No meaning found.
Origin: Irish.
This was perfect. It was an F name, it was a name for my cancer, and most importantly... it was Irish.
Now I have thick red hair that people often mistake me for being Irish.
I always hated Saint Patrick's Day in Junior High. Standing in the lunch line as the man making sure you didn't cut the line or go over a certain point would mentally judge you to see if you were Irish or if he could make some sort of conversation with you. Even though, that's totally not the point of why you're in the lunch line in the first place.
It was my turn to wait at the empty space. Waiting to get my hot lunch when the man decided to fire away his question.
"Are you Irish?? You have red hair."
I really wanted to roll my eyes. But instead, I gave him a full Severts Genealogy run down in about ten seconds.
"No. I'm Dutch/Norwegian/German/Welsh/English/Viking/Scottish. NOT. Irish."
Beat that Mr. Lunch Man.
"What's your last name?"
"Severts."
"Dutch?"
Thank goodness it was my turn to join the others on the other side for the food.
I really disliked talking to the weird adults that stood, watching you over like a hawk to make sure you didn't break any sort of silent lunch room rule.
So Flannery was the name for me to chose. Naming my Cancer Flannery was amazing. At the same time I was pushing out the cancer from my body... but also pushing away that 'Fake' Irish ancestry that people always seem to think I have.
YOU'D BE MORE THAN WRONG TO THINK I'M IRISH.
I'm Dutch/Norwegian/German/Welsh/English/Viking/Scottish. And don't you forget it.
Annika Severts.
Monday, August 29, 2011
The Kindness of People
If anyone knows me really well they know that I have a passion for the musical theater. I'm not much of a singer, but I do love to give a helping hand backstage and watch the show unfold into magic. Most of the music on my iPod is of Soundtracks and Musicals. Usually my favorite musicals consist of Les Mesirables, Promises Promises, The Addams Family, The Music Man, and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
I can honestly say, that today The Music Man is my favorite musical of all time.
I am an enthusiastic musical gower, especially if the beloved Brands are in them. But because of my cancer, I'm not able to go to many musical events for awhile. And that breaks my heart in a thousand pieces. But sweet Barbara contacted my mom and offered to have a few of the cast come up and sing for me. I was very quick to say what my favorite songs were from the music man.
The Quartet
The Sadder but Wiser Girl for Me
Madame Librarian
And today I was visited by the lovely people to sing to me.
They sang all I requested and was surprised when the little boy who played Winthrop offered and wanted to sing for me.
I was so close to crying but I didn't wanted to seem like a cry baby. But then I realized that would've been the greatest gift to give them instead of repeatedly saying thank you awkwardly over and over. But I did have the biggest smile on my face.
I just wanted to thank the Brands for putting together that little show, you can be certain that it will never leave my heart and mind for as long as I live.
That was probably the greatest gift anyone has ever given to me, and I plan to cherish the memory forever.
Also, could you thank each and everyone of those men and boy for coming to sing? I feel stupid for being shy and not saying much. But I really was astounded by it all.
In fact, I still feel like crying because it was beautiful and just what I needed.
Thank you so much.
Annika Severts
I can honestly say, that today The Music Man is my favorite musical of all time.
I am an enthusiastic musical gower, especially if the beloved Brands are in them. But because of my cancer, I'm not able to go to many musical events for awhile. And that breaks my heart in a thousand pieces. But sweet Barbara contacted my mom and offered to have a few of the cast come up and sing for me. I was very quick to say what my favorite songs were from the music man.
The Quartet
The Sadder but Wiser Girl for Me
Madame Librarian
And today I was visited by the lovely people to sing to me.
They sang all I requested and was surprised when the little boy who played Winthrop offered and wanted to sing for me.
I was so close to crying but I didn't wanted to seem like a cry baby. But then I realized that would've been the greatest gift to give them instead of repeatedly saying thank you awkwardly over and over. But I did have the biggest smile on my face.
I just wanted to thank the Brands for putting together that little show, you can be certain that it will never leave my heart and mind for as long as I live.
That was probably the greatest gift anyone has ever given to me, and I plan to cherish the memory forever.
Also, could you thank each and everyone of those men and boy for coming to sing? I feel stupid for being shy and not saying much. But I really was astounded by it all.
In fact, I still feel like crying because it was beautiful and just what I needed.
Thank you so much.
Annika Severts
The Pranks
When you're in the hospital for about three-four days. You get bored. I mean I wasn't bored with my adorable nurses running around the Cancer Ward trying to make me comfortable and happy. But of course, I had my own source of entertainment. My mother.
Now most normal people would leave their mother alone in a stressful situation and ask her how she was. No. Of course. Me being me. I had to have my own little fun.
Prank one:
I was amusingly told that I was poisonous to people. My sweat, my saliva, and my bodily fluids were dangers to others because they could become exposed. I thought this was awesome, I was like some sort of exotic poisonous frog. Oh yeah.
Now having a port in your left shoulder hurts. And since day one, I didn't really have much help getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. I was on my own.
My mother, as sweet as can be, offered her arms in a crossed fashion and told her to grab on.
Me, seeing no point in this since I've been getting myself out of bed since day one, leaned forward and playfully bit the first layer of her clothes. OKAY. Before anyone of you start freaking out, my mother was wearing a jacket and a long sleeved shirt underneath. I was very gentle and I wiped the spit off her sleeve and she was safe.
Now Denise came into the room.
"SHE BIT ME!!!!"
"Did she break the skin?"
"NO! BUT SHE BIT ME!!"
"If she didn't break the skin, you're okay."
I was laughing my head off. My mother was not amused.
Prank two:
Let me tell you about the beds in the hospital. When I was first admitted back in april for my re-occuring psuedo tumor cerebri. my bed was stationary, it didn't move up or down or side to side.
My cancer bed did.
My cancer bed inflated, deflated, moved, stretched, and made loud noises. I mean it was nice a little, but I'm more of a stationary bed girl. I asked Denise why the bed moved and she informed me because it was so that people who couldn't move wouldn't get blood clots. Now, that's a perfectly fine idea... except when you can move.
This is a little bit of an extention from "The Other Days" when I talked about my almost exploding bladder and my terrible nausea.
I had returned from the bathroom with good ol' Robbert by my side as I sat on the bed and just relaxed a bit, One leg over the bed and the other on the bed. Now I wasn't saying much and it apparently freaked my dear mother out.
And then I started to sway a little....
and my eyes rolled to the back of my head...
and I started to fall over to the left side.
Now my mother began to freak out and was going to catch me when I suddenly fixed myself up, looked at her with a big grin, and started to laugh.
She was furious and began to chew me out saying what would happen if that was real? I was freaking her out with my fake out.
And that's when I told my mom about the moving bed and that I had complete control over the whole situation. I was just bored and I decided to go for a little bed ride.
Either way my mom was not amused and began to tell everyone the story of how I freaked her out. My pranks made me look like a bad child. But I wasn't. I was merely having fun.
And now to finished chapter three: The mix up.
This prank was not planned by me or my mother. It was a surprise on both parties involved and was entirely the fault of the volunteer nurse.
The surgical waiting room, if you're wondering, is much like an departure and arrival room for the airports. Here's your flight, is it delayed? Is in the sky yet? Is it descending?
My little story begins when I was in luggage claim mode. I was recovering and was waiting for my mother to come.
About two minutes later a nurse opened the curtains to my room and proudly proclaimed.
"HERE'S YOUR DAUGHTER!!!"
There was a father, a mother, and possibly a third person.
The father began to exclaim, "THAT'S NOT MY DAUGHTER!!"
Slightly appalled and highly amused by the situation of this all I then pointed at the four of them and said, "THAT'S NOT MY FATHER. MY FATHER'S DEAD!!!"
Needless to say they were gone in a snap, my curtains were closed and the family was returned to the 'airport'.
Now it was my mother who returned to me.
Huffed and puffed and angry.
"That nurse should be fired!! She didn't even ask those people if they had a daughter named Annika! She just whisked them away and sent them here! Not me!!" My mother was being, as Mike Brand said, Feisty.
"I asked her, "So I heard you tried to give my daughter away! Nothing. No word of apology when I could clearly hear her tell the other family about being so sorry about the mix up!! Did she apologize to you?"
I said no.
"See? What a terrible nurse!!"
"Mom.. She was a volunteer."
"STILL NOT AN A EXCUSE!"
"I wanted to punch her in her little face!" My mother told me.
My mom is awesome.
I'm finally at home, it's monday 29 12:23 PM and i'll be doing my homework shortly so that I'll be caught up with my classes for tuesday, wednesday, and thursday. I'm so excited. I don't think people realize how amazing school is. I missed school for almost half a year in 10th grade, and now I'll be doing the same in 11th grade. It really breaks my heart. For me school is a get away and a small little haven to escape the world from all it's worries and cares.
So next time you groan about that essay you have to write or the fact you have to get up in the morning, think of me. Awake since 6:34 am. Just waiting to return to school. To be allowed to go to school. Just itching to go to school. Please don't have a bad attitude about school. It really is a wonderful place if you have all the right friends and teachers.
Annika Severts
Now most normal people would leave their mother alone in a stressful situation and ask her how she was. No. Of course. Me being me. I had to have my own little fun.
Prank one:
I was amusingly told that I was poisonous to people. My sweat, my saliva, and my bodily fluids were dangers to others because they could become exposed. I thought this was awesome, I was like some sort of exotic poisonous frog. Oh yeah.
Now having a port in your left shoulder hurts. And since day one, I didn't really have much help getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. I was on my own.
My mother, as sweet as can be, offered her arms in a crossed fashion and told her to grab on.
Me, seeing no point in this since I've been getting myself out of bed since day one, leaned forward and playfully bit the first layer of her clothes. OKAY. Before anyone of you start freaking out, my mother was wearing a jacket and a long sleeved shirt underneath. I was very gentle and I wiped the spit off her sleeve and she was safe.
Now Denise came into the room.
"SHE BIT ME!!!!"
"Did she break the skin?"
"NO! BUT SHE BIT ME!!"
"If she didn't break the skin, you're okay."
I was laughing my head off. My mother was not amused.
Prank two:
Let me tell you about the beds in the hospital. When I was first admitted back in april for my re-occuring psuedo tumor cerebri. my bed was stationary, it didn't move up or down or side to side.
My cancer bed did.
My cancer bed inflated, deflated, moved, stretched, and made loud noises. I mean it was nice a little, but I'm more of a stationary bed girl. I asked Denise why the bed moved and she informed me because it was so that people who couldn't move wouldn't get blood clots. Now, that's a perfectly fine idea... except when you can move.
This is a little bit of an extention from "The Other Days" when I talked about my almost exploding bladder and my terrible nausea.
I had returned from the bathroom with good ol' Robbert by my side as I sat on the bed and just relaxed a bit, One leg over the bed and the other on the bed. Now I wasn't saying much and it apparently freaked my dear mother out.
And then I started to sway a little....
and my eyes rolled to the back of my head...
and I started to fall over to the left side.
Now my mother began to freak out and was going to catch me when I suddenly fixed myself up, looked at her with a big grin, and started to laugh.
She was furious and began to chew me out saying what would happen if that was real? I was freaking her out with my fake out.
And that's when I told my mom about the moving bed and that I had complete control over the whole situation. I was just bored and I decided to go for a little bed ride.
Either way my mom was not amused and began to tell everyone the story of how I freaked her out. My pranks made me look like a bad child. But I wasn't. I was merely having fun.
And now to finished chapter three: The mix up.
This prank was not planned by me or my mother. It was a surprise on both parties involved and was entirely the fault of the volunteer nurse.
The surgical waiting room, if you're wondering, is much like an departure and arrival room for the airports. Here's your flight, is it delayed? Is in the sky yet? Is it descending?
My little story begins when I was in luggage claim mode. I was recovering and was waiting for my mother to come.
About two minutes later a nurse opened the curtains to my room and proudly proclaimed.
"HERE'S YOUR DAUGHTER!!!"
There was a father, a mother, and possibly a third person.
The father began to exclaim, "THAT'S NOT MY DAUGHTER!!"
Slightly appalled and highly amused by the situation of this all I then pointed at the four of them and said, "THAT'S NOT MY FATHER. MY FATHER'S DEAD!!!"
Needless to say they were gone in a snap, my curtains were closed and the family was returned to the 'airport'.
Now it was my mother who returned to me.
Huffed and puffed and angry.
"That nurse should be fired!! She didn't even ask those people if they had a daughter named Annika! She just whisked them away and sent them here! Not me!!" My mother was being, as Mike Brand said, Feisty.
"I asked her, "So I heard you tried to give my daughter away! Nothing. No word of apology when I could clearly hear her tell the other family about being so sorry about the mix up!! Did she apologize to you?"
I said no.
"See? What a terrible nurse!!"
"Mom.. She was a volunteer."
"STILL NOT AN A EXCUSE!"
"I wanted to punch her in her little face!" My mother told me.
My mom is awesome.
I'm finally at home, it's monday 29 12:23 PM and i'll be doing my homework shortly so that I'll be caught up with my classes for tuesday, wednesday, and thursday. I'm so excited. I don't think people realize how amazing school is. I missed school for almost half a year in 10th grade, and now I'll be doing the same in 11th grade. It really breaks my heart. For me school is a get away and a small little haven to escape the world from all it's worries and cares.
So next time you groan about that essay you have to write or the fact you have to get up in the morning, think of me. Awake since 6:34 am. Just waiting to return to school. To be allowed to go to school. Just itching to go to school. Please don't have a bad attitude about school. It really is a wonderful place if you have all the right friends and teachers.
Annika Severts
Sunday, August 28, 2011
The other days
Day two in the hospital meant for me to start my chemo.
I don't remember much in the beginning as I was asleep mostly from my waking up every hour and talking to Russel when every Robbert would start beeping. I remember waking up to seeing a man that I've come to known and love very much. Grassey Knowels. (( I'm sorry Mike Brand you officially visited first on the first day but not first on the chemo day. Grassey gets all the presents. But your visit was the very first no-chemo and was very appreciated. Especially being able to see my mom being all feisty. ))
I woke up to a Colonel Grassey. He came over and kissed me on the forehead. He originally gave me a scripture to read the day before Hospitalization started. D&C 122: 7-8. It really stuck with me and even know it still kind of makes me teary eyed, I love Grassey for giving me that Scripture. Apparently he had been there for my mom when she broke down after they started Chemo. And I'm so thankful Grassey was there and Mike Brand also for those tender moments my mom went through when I couldn't be there.
I'll confess. I'm not very vocal about my feelings and don't tend to show when I'm distressed, sad, or angry. But I always show happiness, but there are about three men who can easily rip down those walls and make me cry for no apparent reason what so ever. Mike Brand, John Hruby, and now Grassey Knowles. I finally figured out why these men make me cry. If some people don't know, I lost my father in a plane crash three years ago. He was an amazing man. And I'm so sad he's no longer physically with me in my life. But with Mike, John, and Grassey make up my father. And These three men I want to hold forever dear in my heart.
Anyways, back to the Cancer story that you were all so interested earlier.
They started Chemo and their original nausea medicine wasn't working. I was in so much nausea and I had to pee, really bad. Now my nausea was so bad I was debating whether or not to pee my pants because it was so bad. Would I rather throw up or pee my pants? I was going to wait till my nausea past until my nurses told me the dangers of keeping the fluids in my body. I forced me to go, and then I felt better. And then I was introduced into a wonderful drug called, ATIVAN.
I was soo loopy and I if you ever get the chance to take it, PLEASE. Take it. It's so magical. It's just... UGH. It's the stuff guys. It's part Pain killer, Anxiety relief, and nausea. Of course I only take it for pain and nausea. But I get really loopy.
Like for example; I sang this in the hallway. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhKbtakmU34
I was in pediatrics Cancer ward where a lot of the patients are terminal or really bad off. I have the golden cancer. So me being of Ativman I started to sing this song but I start to sing, "Gory gory what a hell of way to die. Gory what a hell of way to die. Gory gory what a hell of way to die, We ain't gonna fight no more." Needless it was high inappropriate but it kept my mom laughing. That was all that mattered.
The next couple of days blended. But I met another three nurses that I absolutely love.
Ed, the Ukraine who lived on the border of Russia who's father was Russian and Mother Ukraine. He moved to the United States when he was 28 years old. My mom liked Ed, also Barbara too. Ed was the nurse who check my blood. So when he came in with his accent he said, "Annika, I've come to check your blood." Barbara and my mom had a hard time keeping it in.
Denise, was one of my favorites nurses. I could make her laugh, and she snorted when she laughed. I really hope she's my RN my next visit. She's been working there for 11 years now. I scared her by locking the bathroom door, (Which is a habit) and she needed to scan my wrist. She couldn't get the door opened and I laughed. I open the door and stuck my wrist out for her, snickering. ( I was told I was her first Pediatric patient by my mom
I also really loved Harmony. She was loud and proud and very pretty especially for like two in the morning. She was adopted between her older sister and younger sister. She has two kids and she was a hoot.
I hope I get Denise, Harmony, Ed and even Russel for my treatments in the hospital. They made me laugh and I made them laugh.
The days kind of blurred together but I had visitors, Paul Bigelow and his adorable wife, Alissa Gertch and her husband, Half of the brands, my brother Grant, Grandparents, Georgette and Vivianne, John and Stephanie Hruby, and Grassey and his daughter Alyssa Knowles. Some of you were there during low times and some of you were there during high times, and I'm so glad you guys came. It really did help a lot.
Tomorrow I will write more little pranks and stories that I played on my mom and my mom's few bad moments. ((But they're funny now.)) And I'll talk about my t-shirts that I plan to make.
Look forward to my next chapter, as this is kind of like a documentary for me and hopefully it will somehow help a patient with stage three lymphoma. I hope so. Or maybe it's just a vlog for my lovely friends.
Annika Severts
I don't remember much in the beginning as I was asleep mostly from my waking up every hour and talking to Russel when every Robbert would start beeping. I remember waking up to seeing a man that I've come to known and love very much. Grassey Knowels. (( I'm sorry Mike Brand you officially visited first on the first day but not first on the chemo day. Grassey gets all the presents. But your visit was the very first no-chemo and was very appreciated. Especially being able to see my mom being all feisty. ))
I woke up to a Colonel Grassey. He came over and kissed me on the forehead. He originally gave me a scripture to read the day before Hospitalization started. D&C 122: 7-8. It really stuck with me and even know it still kind of makes me teary eyed, I love Grassey for giving me that Scripture. Apparently he had been there for my mom when she broke down after they started Chemo. And I'm so thankful Grassey was there and Mike Brand also for those tender moments my mom went through when I couldn't be there.
I'll confess. I'm not very vocal about my feelings and don't tend to show when I'm distressed, sad, or angry. But I always show happiness, but there are about three men who can easily rip down those walls and make me cry for no apparent reason what so ever. Mike Brand, John Hruby, and now Grassey Knowles. I finally figured out why these men make me cry. If some people don't know, I lost my father in a plane crash three years ago. He was an amazing man. And I'm so sad he's no longer physically with me in my life. But with Mike, John, and Grassey make up my father. And These three men I want to hold forever dear in my heart.
Anyways, back to the Cancer story that you were all so interested earlier.
They started Chemo and their original nausea medicine wasn't working. I was in so much nausea and I had to pee, really bad. Now my nausea was so bad I was debating whether or not to pee my pants because it was so bad. Would I rather throw up or pee my pants? I was going to wait till my nausea past until my nurses told me the dangers of keeping the fluids in my body. I forced me to go, and then I felt better. And then I was introduced into a wonderful drug called, ATIVAN.
I was soo loopy and I if you ever get the chance to take it, PLEASE. Take it. It's so magical. It's just... UGH. It's the stuff guys. It's part Pain killer, Anxiety relief, and nausea. Of course I only take it for pain and nausea. But I get really loopy.
Like for example; I sang this in the hallway. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhKbtakmU34
I was in pediatrics Cancer ward where a lot of the patients are terminal or really bad off. I have the golden cancer. So me being of Ativman I started to sing this song but I start to sing, "Gory gory what a hell of way to die. Gory what a hell of way to die. Gory gory what a hell of way to die, We ain't gonna fight no more." Needless it was high inappropriate but it kept my mom laughing. That was all that mattered.
The next couple of days blended. But I met another three nurses that I absolutely love.
Ed, the Ukraine who lived on the border of Russia who's father was Russian and Mother Ukraine. He moved to the United States when he was 28 years old. My mom liked Ed, also Barbara too. Ed was the nurse who check my blood. So when he came in with his accent he said, "Annika, I've come to check your blood." Barbara and my mom had a hard time keeping it in.
Denise, was one of my favorites nurses. I could make her laugh, and she snorted when she laughed. I really hope she's my RN my next visit. She's been working there for 11 years now. I scared her by locking the bathroom door, (Which is a habit) and she needed to scan my wrist. She couldn't get the door opened and I laughed. I open the door and stuck my wrist out for her, snickering. ( I was told I was her first Pediatric patient by my mom
I also really loved Harmony. She was loud and proud and very pretty especially for like two in the morning. She was adopted between her older sister and younger sister. She has two kids and she was a hoot.
I hope I get Denise, Harmony, Ed and even Russel for my treatments in the hospital. They made me laugh and I made them laugh.
The days kind of blurred together but I had visitors, Paul Bigelow and his adorable wife, Alissa Gertch and her husband, Half of the brands, my brother Grant, Grandparents, Georgette and Vivianne, John and Stephanie Hruby, and Grassey and his daughter Alyssa Knowles. Some of you were there during low times and some of you were there during high times, and I'm so glad you guys came. It really did help a lot.
Tomorrow I will write more little pranks and stories that I played on my mom and my mom's few bad moments. ((But they're funny now.)) And I'll talk about my t-shirts that I plan to make.
Look forward to my next chapter, as this is kind of like a documentary for me and hopefully it will somehow help a patient with stage three lymphoma. I hope so. Or maybe it's just a vlog for my lovely friends.
Annika Severts
Russel the Chicken and Fruit Parfait
Day and Night One
I was quickly sent to Saint Luke's Pediatrics Surgery on Thursday to put in my port. Mine is called the Power Port. Or what I like to call my Ironman port. A port is an easily access point that is put underneath the skin next to your collarbone. Mine is placed in my Right collar bone so that it doesn't influence my heart. This is so they don't poke me so often and just place the iv and chemicals through my body without putting a lot of holes into my arms. It's a plus as I don't like ivs in my arms or a lot of needle work. So I was more than happy to comply to their wishes of a port.
The first night I won't lie was terrible. Waking up every hour of the night becoming excited because it was 7 am but it ended up being two instead. That was always a heart breaker. But my little nurses always created a small get away from me. Especially Russel. Some people might of heard of his name because I said on facebook he reminded me of a baby chicken. Usually when Robbert ( my robot that told me when my iv fluids were getting low or a air bubble was found in one of my tubs. ) went off in the early mornings Russel would appear. I would make some small chit chat. I asked Russel how he was. He immediately began to jabber on.
"It's my first day on this floor. I normally don't work on this floor and I really don't know anyone here. It's a challenge." I felt rather like my father when Russel came into the room. Russel was like a clumsy, lost baby chicken. And I thought it was adorable.
"Well, meeting people is always kind of a frightening thing at first, but you'll get used to it." I chuckled, I sometimes get these feeling of like a father towards certain people. As weird thing since I'm a female, but I know how to act in the right situations.
"BEEP BEEP."
Robbert called upon me to wake up and get the nurse.
It was Russel.
"Hello Russel." I would say. "Are you getting a long better?"
"Yes. I've learned a few new names but I sometimes forget where things are or some numbers that I have to put in."
Russel had glasses and nice curly brown hair.
"I really wish I was a morning person." Russel said with a soft sigh as he put Robbert back into sleep. "Are you a morning person?"
"Ah. I'm actually both. As long as I get enough sleep I can either wake up anytime of the day and go do the things I need to do."
"Coffee? Do you like coffee?"
"No. I don't drink coffee. I can thank my father's genes for being able to wake up at anytime of the day or night. But I like my sleep. And coffee makes me throw up."
I've never had more than a sip of coffee until my grandparents went to MacDonalds. I asked for a Fruit Parfait. "A WHAT?" my grandpa yelled. "A FRUIT PARFAIT." "Oh okay. I'll get you a fruit parfait." But it wasn't a fruit parfait. It was Frappe. Thinking back to my other spinal taps
drinking caffeine helps with wounds. I drank about a quarter before throwing it up. Thanks Grandma and Grandpa for my FRUIT PARFAIT.
Russel was very sweet and he left in the morning, He said it was nice knowing me and I said maybe we'll see each other in the future.
Maybe we will. Maybe I'll get my frantic baby chicken running around Pediatrics in the cancer ward trying to find his way and get to know familiar faces. And I hope to be that one face he remembers. I liked Russel.
I was quickly sent to Saint Luke's Pediatrics Surgery on Thursday to put in my port. Mine is called the Power Port. Or what I like to call my Ironman port. A port is an easily access point that is put underneath the skin next to your collarbone. Mine is placed in my Right collar bone so that it doesn't influence my heart. This is so they don't poke me so often and just place the iv and chemicals through my body without putting a lot of holes into my arms. It's a plus as I don't like ivs in my arms or a lot of needle work. So I was more than happy to comply to their wishes of a port.
The first night I won't lie was terrible. Waking up every hour of the night becoming excited because it was 7 am but it ended up being two instead. That was always a heart breaker. But my little nurses always created a small get away from me. Especially Russel. Some people might of heard of his name because I said on facebook he reminded me of a baby chicken. Usually when Robbert ( my robot that told me when my iv fluids were getting low or a air bubble was found in one of my tubs. ) went off in the early mornings Russel would appear. I would make some small chit chat. I asked Russel how he was. He immediately began to jabber on.
"It's my first day on this floor. I normally don't work on this floor and I really don't know anyone here. It's a challenge." I felt rather like my father when Russel came into the room. Russel was like a clumsy, lost baby chicken. And I thought it was adorable.
"Well, meeting people is always kind of a frightening thing at first, but you'll get used to it." I chuckled, I sometimes get these feeling of like a father towards certain people. As weird thing since I'm a female, but I know how to act in the right situations.
"BEEP BEEP."
Robbert called upon me to wake up and get the nurse.
It was Russel.
"Hello Russel." I would say. "Are you getting a long better?"
"Yes. I've learned a few new names but I sometimes forget where things are or some numbers that I have to put in."
Russel had glasses and nice curly brown hair.
"I really wish I was a morning person." Russel said with a soft sigh as he put Robbert back into sleep. "Are you a morning person?"
"Ah. I'm actually both. As long as I get enough sleep I can either wake up anytime of the day and go do the things I need to do."
"Coffee? Do you like coffee?"
"No. I don't drink coffee. I can thank my father's genes for being able to wake up at anytime of the day or night. But I like my sleep. And coffee makes me throw up."
I've never had more than a sip of coffee until my grandparents went to MacDonalds. I asked for a Fruit Parfait. "A WHAT?" my grandpa yelled. "A FRUIT PARFAIT." "Oh okay. I'll get you a fruit parfait." But it wasn't a fruit parfait. It was Frappe. Thinking back to my other spinal taps
drinking caffeine helps with wounds. I drank about a quarter before throwing it up. Thanks Grandma and Grandpa for my FRUIT PARFAIT.
Russel was very sweet and he left in the morning, He said it was nice knowing me and I said maybe we'll see each other in the future.
Maybe we will. Maybe I'll get my frantic baby chicken running around Pediatrics in the cancer ward trying to find his way and get to know familiar faces. And I hope to be that one face he remembers. I liked Russel.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Introduction
It's every teenager's dream to have an easy and fun filled high school experience. Not having to deal with big issues tougher than deciding what your prom dress will be or how long you're going to procrastinate that English assignment till two in the morning. Most issues kids face are; Billy broke up with them, how am I going to do all my classes but still have time for friends, what clothes should I wear tomorrow, who's the best artist in their opinion, and deciding which video game they'll be playing for that weekend with a Rockstar by their side.
I was never a normal teenager. I listen to classical music, I fly airplanes, I don't go to proms, I hate Lady Gaga and most Hip hop/Rap/Pop singers with a fiery passion, I stay home playing my Ukulele and reading books, and tend to never really go crazy unless I'm at some Anime Convention for three days a year. I'm a relatively boring redheaded, glasses wearing girl with nothing really exciting happening in her life.
But, apparently my body decided to change all that.
It all started last January. I contracted a simple fever. Nothing big right? Right. But by Mid-January my side was killing me. I ended up having Pancreatitis, this is usually what alcoholics get but being a homebody I don't drink. And so I was treated for that. Then scary things started to happen.
For months, months, I noticed my vision was terrible. I mean, I'm already blind without my glasses. But wearing my glasses made my eyes hurt and I couldn't wear them. I would sit down for either a long or short period of time and when I would stand, my vision would fade away then fade back. I started seeing flashing lights, spots, and moving things in my eyes. I forced my mom to take me to the optometrist where he immediately sent me to a ophthalmologist. There he began to say I had damage in this eyes, hemorrhaging in that one, and leaking fluid. I ended up being sent to the Emergency room where a so called "Amazing Doctor who's done a spinal tap like five hundred times" began to poke and prod my back. I tried to be brave, but the frustration of not getting fluid from my spine had him sweating and he sent me to Radiology.
Now here's a short lesson. A normal spine has a pressure of about 15. If there's extra pressure then they normally see up to 50 pressure, nothing higher. Then I came along with a eye bulging 60. They took 33 mm of fluid. Which is about three and half vials of fluid. They've never seen anyone with a pressure that high in years. YEARS.
I was then diagnosed with Pseudo Tumor Cerebri. Meaning my brain thought I had a tumor, and I really didn't. It created extra spinal fluid to balance the pressure, but since there wasn't anything there my eyes were taking all that pressure. I was then told that if I had waited any longer, I would've lost my eyes.
I've always said if I had to lose one of my vital actions that I would lose my voice in a heartbeat. I want my eyes and ears. I love people and music. Taking any of those away would've killed me. I was pretty shaken up.
I was then met by a Dr. Jernigan. ((Forgive me if I butchered his name. I don't have his card with me.)) who gave me Ace-huirahijkaebsjl0eiaoohjnad. It's a long word. Or Diomox. In a kid friendly term it means, High Altitude Sickness medication. Needless to say the first dosage didn't work. I had a relapse and was hospitalized for two days. I hated it. I was then put on 750 mg for the morning and night. They don't normally give that high of a dosage to patients. I'm just a head scratcher.
That went fine and dandy and I was finally coming off my medicine in July when, WHAM. I was hit again with that same throbbing pain in my side. Only it was my right and not my left. I was in so much pain I called the doctor myself ((I tend to call him now since my mother puts off sickness seeing it as no threat. I've learned not to go easy when my body is telling me I'm in pain.)) I had a scan and I was diagnosed with a bad Gaul bladder. Thinking it was an easy procedure we went to a surgeon. We told him my fascinating medical history and He had his other doubts....
"You probably have Lymphoma Cancer." Dr. Verner said.
"But her needle biopsy said she didn't have cancer." My mother argued.
"Needle biopsies don't tell you different cancers, they just tell you if you have a certain kind of life threatening cancer." Dr. Verner told my wide eyed mother.
"..So she could have cancer?" My mother looked like a deer in a headlight.
"Lymphoma Cancer. This is the best cancer to have if you're going to have it. Very easy to cure." Dr. Verner said with confidence.
I was scheduled for a surgical biopsy the next thursday.
And that's when I met my Oncologist. Dr. Meeker.
We talked about cancer, but we were pretty confident I didn't have it. My blood work didn't show anything out of the norm and I felt fine....
But sadly, this is not a really happy story for me...
I was called Friday 14 2011 from Dr. Meeker. I picked up the phone and listened in to my Mother and Dr. Meeker speaking.
"She has Lymphoma Cancer."
"....She does?"
That's right. With my best friend and my brother upstairs with me. I learned, I had cancer. And I was going to lose my hair.
If I was to learn anything bad like that, I'm glad my friend was there for me.
My world was destroyed and opened up at the same time. Why me? But it answers all my medical questions from the past. It was good news, and bad news.
Lymphoma Cancer has a 90% chance of cure rate. I'll survive.
It's August 25, Wednesday 2011 at 12:20 AM. And tomorrow I start chemo and get my port placed into my chest.
I'm both confident and scared.
But I'll make through it.
Because you know why?
I'm going to look like the love child of Ironman and Uncle Fester.
and
I named my cancer Flannery.
It's an Irish name and it's real.
Look it up.
I dare you.
With all the hopes of a normal teenaged life thrown out the window, (though I doubt I would have had one anyways) I am documenting my experience of Lymphoma Cancer on a blog.
Oh dear.... I'm one of those people now. Haha.
Annika Severts.
I was never a normal teenager. I listen to classical music, I fly airplanes, I don't go to proms, I hate Lady Gaga and most Hip hop/Rap/Pop singers with a fiery passion, I stay home playing my Ukulele and reading books, and tend to never really go crazy unless I'm at some Anime Convention for three days a year. I'm a relatively boring redheaded, glasses wearing girl with nothing really exciting happening in her life.
But, apparently my body decided to change all that.
It all started last January. I contracted a simple fever. Nothing big right? Right. But by Mid-January my side was killing me. I ended up having Pancreatitis, this is usually what alcoholics get but being a homebody I don't drink. And so I was treated for that. Then scary things started to happen.
For months, months, I noticed my vision was terrible. I mean, I'm already blind without my glasses. But wearing my glasses made my eyes hurt and I couldn't wear them. I would sit down for either a long or short period of time and when I would stand, my vision would fade away then fade back. I started seeing flashing lights, spots, and moving things in my eyes. I forced my mom to take me to the optometrist where he immediately sent me to a ophthalmologist. There he began to say I had damage in this eyes, hemorrhaging in that one, and leaking fluid. I ended up being sent to the Emergency room where a so called "Amazing Doctor who's done a spinal tap like five hundred times" began to poke and prod my back. I tried to be brave, but the frustration of not getting fluid from my spine had him sweating and he sent me to Radiology.
Now here's a short lesson. A normal spine has a pressure of about 15. If there's extra pressure then they normally see up to 50 pressure, nothing higher. Then I came along with a eye bulging 60. They took 33 mm of fluid. Which is about three and half vials of fluid. They've never seen anyone with a pressure that high in years. YEARS.
I was then diagnosed with Pseudo Tumor Cerebri. Meaning my brain thought I had a tumor, and I really didn't. It created extra spinal fluid to balance the pressure, but since there wasn't anything there my eyes were taking all that pressure. I was then told that if I had waited any longer, I would've lost my eyes.
I've always said if I had to lose one of my vital actions that I would lose my voice in a heartbeat. I want my eyes and ears. I love people and music. Taking any of those away would've killed me. I was pretty shaken up.
I was then met by a Dr. Jernigan. ((Forgive me if I butchered his name. I don't have his card with me.)) who gave me Ace-huirahijkaebsjl0eiaoohjnad. It's a long word. Or Diomox. In a kid friendly term it means, High Altitude Sickness medication. Needless to say the first dosage didn't work. I had a relapse and was hospitalized for two days. I hated it. I was then put on 750 mg for the morning and night. They don't normally give that high of a dosage to patients. I'm just a head scratcher.
That went fine and dandy and I was finally coming off my medicine in July when, WHAM. I was hit again with that same throbbing pain in my side. Only it was my right and not my left. I was in so much pain I called the doctor myself ((I tend to call him now since my mother puts off sickness seeing it as no threat. I've learned not to go easy when my body is telling me I'm in pain.)) I had a scan and I was diagnosed with a bad Gaul bladder. Thinking it was an easy procedure we went to a surgeon. We told him my fascinating medical history and He had his other doubts....
"You probably have Lymphoma Cancer." Dr. Verner said.
"But her needle biopsy said she didn't have cancer." My mother argued.
"Needle biopsies don't tell you different cancers, they just tell you if you have a certain kind of life threatening cancer." Dr. Verner told my wide eyed mother.
"..So she could have cancer?" My mother looked like a deer in a headlight.
"Lymphoma Cancer. This is the best cancer to have if you're going to have it. Very easy to cure." Dr. Verner said with confidence.
I was scheduled for a surgical biopsy the next thursday.
And that's when I met my Oncologist. Dr. Meeker.
We talked about cancer, but we were pretty confident I didn't have it. My blood work didn't show anything out of the norm and I felt fine....
But sadly, this is not a really happy story for me...
I was called Friday 14 2011 from Dr. Meeker. I picked up the phone and listened in to my Mother and Dr. Meeker speaking.
"She has Lymphoma Cancer."
"....She does?"
That's right. With my best friend and my brother upstairs with me. I learned, I had cancer. And I was going to lose my hair.
If I was to learn anything bad like that, I'm glad my friend was there for me.
My world was destroyed and opened up at the same time. Why me? But it answers all my medical questions from the past. It was good news, and bad news.
Lymphoma Cancer has a 90% chance of cure rate. I'll survive.
It's August 25, Wednesday 2011 at 12:20 AM. And tomorrow I start chemo and get my port placed into my chest.
I'm both confident and scared.
But I'll make through it.
Because you know why?
I'm going to look like the love child of Ironman and Uncle Fester.
and
I named my cancer Flannery.
It's an Irish name and it's real.
Look it up.
I dare you.
With all the hopes of a normal teenaged life thrown out the window, (though I doubt I would have had one anyways) I am documenting my experience of Lymphoma Cancer on a blog.
Oh dear.... I'm one of those people now. Haha.
Annika Severts.
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