Cancer Effing Sucks

My echo cardiogram was as clear as every other test has been.  That was a relief, but still left a huge question mark over my head about how we were going to treat the swelling.  I finally met with my oncologist today.  My blood pressure was 150/100 *sigh* but the swelling is mostly gone.

She feels that the swelling and other side effects were direct results of the Tamoxifen.  The problem is that there is no other drug that is effective in pre-menopausal women.  Post-menopausal women have several to choose from.  This demands that we find out where I am in that respect.

Guys, stop reading now.  You're welcome.

I haven't had a period since June of '12, when I started chemo.  That's to be expected.  Starting Tamoxifen was expected to yield the same result, so no shocks there.  The problem is that it prevents us from counting on the obvious symptoms to know my menopausal status.  So they drew blood.  Mom?  This is where you remind me how old you were when you went through it.

For now, I am still off Tamoxifen.  I don't like that, since I want every weapon available to me in this fight, but I'll deal with it for three more weeks.  At that point, I'll go back to see the oncologist and see what my blood work revealed.  If I'm pre-menopausal, they'll likely give me an injection (or injections? I don't remember what she said) to stop my ovaries from working, throwing me into menopause.  Then I can start one of the many drugs aimed at that.

More waiting.  More unsettled worrying.  More and more proof that cancer effing sucks.  I suggest you avoid it.

One Year Later

Today marks a year since I got the call, confirming my suspicions of breast cancer.  With the help of an amazing team of doctors, I threw everything I could at the beast, and I feel I beat it.  This week's mammogram on the remaining breast came out "all clear," which was an amazing relief.  They tested 10 lymph nodes during my mastectomy, and three of them were positive for those pesky cancer cells.

When it's in your lymph nodes, it is easily carried to other parts of your body.  This is the annoying thing that keeps me on my guard.  Knowing that, even though chemotherapy ended six months ago and radiation ended four months ago, I had a clear mammogram.  That is comforting.

I've been pulled off of Tamoxifen, the hormone suppressing drug, because of my swelling and other symptoms.  An echo-cardiogram has been ordered for next Friday morning to make sure my heart hasn't been damaged.  I had one before my surgery that was good, so we have a baseline for comparison.  Worrying won't help, so I'll just wait.

All of my kids will be together on Wednesday evening, and I'm really looking forward to that.  It's a black-out week at work, so I couldn't take any time off, but Kevin was able to.  We'll try to do some fun stuff with them.  I'm glad there is something positive and fun for me to focus my attention on.  The bottom line is, I've survived a horrible year.  And I'm stronger for it.

Stupid Medical Crap

I'm so done with medical issues!  I had my annual ob-gyn appointment today.  Just routine.  Well, except that it is at last  year's appointment that I talked to her about the lump, and it was at last years appointment that she ordered the mammogram that resulted in the biopsy that happened a year ago today.  Yeah.  Except for that.

My gynecologist's office is down the hall from the cancer center.  This means that I entered the same building and took the same elevator to the same floor.  I was fine this morning, but by the time I got to the office and signed in, I was nervous as heck.  Stupid.

They called me back, I got changed into the gown, and I waited.  Forever.  When Dr. Finkle came in, she said, "So, how are you doing, really?"  That's when I broke down crying.  I'm so done.  I'm done with appointments, I'm done with poking and prodding, and I'm done with questions.  I love her dearly, and she's the reason that cancer didn't win.  I'm not mad at her, I'm just down.

So we talked and she wants to have me try Effexor, which should alleviate the hot flashes and help with anxiety at the same time.  I'm willing to try.  I've been a nightmare to my family for a while now.  Everyone that I know is on my last nerve.  The common denominator is me.  I hope it helps.  But we didn't get to complete that conversation, because that's when she started my exam by looking at my legs.

"Your legs are SO swollen?  How long have they been like that?  Why didn't you say anything?"  Umm, because it's no biggie to me compared to cancer?  Because I'm fat and I figured that was to blame?  Because I'm sick of reporting medical complications?  I don't KNOW!  She completed the exam and then looked at my legs again.  She said I wasn't leaving until she decided what she was going to do.

After getting dressed, I opened the door. She met me at the door and said, "I've decided how we're handling this."  It could be a blood clot, or a heart issue, or just fluid retention.  She ordered an immediate ultrasound of my legs to rule out clots and I headed downstairs to complete that.  My oncologist was not in the office, but she will call her and get me in sooner than my March 19th appointment.  She will let my oncologist decide where to send me to rule out heart issues.

The ultrasound showed no clots.  That was my biggest worry.  Those can mean instant death.  I have no blood clots.  PHEW!  I'll get a call tomorrow with information about what to do next.  Damn.  I'm SO sick of this stuff.  I was in a funk before this, and now I have to concentrate on not letting it pull me down further.  I have a great week ahead of me, and that's what I plan to concentrate on.

Phew! The Mammogram Edition

Today was round one of my appointments that mark one year since my diagnosis of invasive ductal carcinoma.  I had spent the weekend in Texas, enjoying sunshine and time with friends, so I came back relaxed and happy.  I thought I'd be fine today and just go to my appointments and then come home.  But it wasn't that easy.

I woke up late, since I didn't have to work today.  (I took a vacation day to get through the appointments.)  The closer it got to time to leave, the more worried I became.  I know a lot of people who are approaching the one year mark, and they are finding abnormalities.  I know two who now have metastatic breast cancer.  I know that I'm at greater risk than many people.  I started tearing up and wringing my hands.  (because we all know how much good that does.)

Kevin sent a text and offered to go with me.   You betcha!  He was there a year ago for all of the first appointments.  He acts as a memory and another set of ears for me.  He gets to be the calm one.  He gets to ask questions that I may forget.

Our first stop was at the rehab office for my physical therapy.  I suspected that she'd release me and I was right.  She told me to continue my at-home exercises right up until surgery, and then resume them as soon as the plastic surgeon approves.  My range of motion measurements were great and she was thrilled with my progress.  I'm to ask to see her again ONLY if I have problems.

From there, we went to the diagnostic center for the mammogram.  I was starting to really stress.  I tried to breathe through it and calm down.  Kevin and I played games on the iPad and made nonsense conversation to pass the time.  I had the mammogram (on the remaining side only) and then waited to get results.  I could see some weird areas on the screen as I went by, and my panic increased.

Finally, a doctor that I'd never met knocked on the door and came in.  "Here we go," I thought.  "This is where it all started.  She's going to tell me I have cancer."  She smiled, shook my  hand, and said, "I've looked over the images and everything looks great."  I instantly teared up.  I was more relieved than I've ever been in my life.  All that was left was to see the breast surgeon.

His nurse practitioner came in first and asked some questions and examined me.  Then Dr. Shook came in and examined me again.  He's very pleased with the way the tissue expander side has healed.  (I don't like to call it the "cancer side.")  He asked some questions about the plastic surgeon's plan.  We talked for a bit and then he told me that he didn't need to see me for a year.  What?  No doctor has told me that for a long time!

My emotions are raw and I still have many appointments coming up over the next few months.  I made it through a diagnostic test without finding cancer.  It can be done.  Breathe in, breathe out.  I'll go to work tomorrow and keep moving forward.  Each day is a bright new day.  It should get easier from here.  PHEW!

Stuff N Stuff

We were hit with a foot of snow on Thursday.  At some points it was snowing 2-3" per hour.  There was no way I'd get home, so when they closed the lab at 10:00, my employer put me and three coworkers up at a nearby hotel.  It was total insanity.  The three of them had to push my car as often as it moved under it's own power.  By last night, I was super happy to be at home.

Monica was supposed to go to Mizzou (in Columbia, MO) for a band event tomorrow.  They were to rehearse tomorrow, sleep in a dorm, rehearse Monday and then perform Monday night.  The other girl invited is a friend of Monica's and her mother was going to transport them.  There is now another snow storm heading this way and it is supposed to hit Monday evening.  This made us very nervous so I was happy when they called a bit ago and told us they were postponing it.

A week from today, I'll be in Texas visiting Brooke.  I'm travelling with my friend Tammy, who is visiting her son in San Antonio while I hang with Brooke a couple of hours away.  Then we'll travel home together.  I'm super excited.  We'll get back on Monday afternoon, and then I'm off work Tuesday for doctor's appointments.  The annual visits are approaching and I'm getting more nervous by the day.

I know two people who have gone through breast cancer treatment at the same time as me and who have recently found out they have metastatic cancer.  Both have it in their bones and one of them in her lungs, too.  This freaks me out hardcore.  There is nothing I can do except stay vigilant with exams and report anything new that pops up.  That, and enjoy every minute of every day.  I try my best not to dwell on the what-ifs, but my mind still goes there several times a day.

NASCAR is back for another season, starting with the running of the Daytona 500 tomorrow.  My family can utter a collective groan, but I'm thrilled.  It makes everyone happy that we have two TVs in the house.  Combine this season starter with the new season of Duck Dynasty starting on Wednesday and you have one happy redneck chick right here.

Wow, that was a lot of subject hopping.  I guess maybe I should update more often and that wouldn't happen, but that's what's going through my mind this afternoon.

1826 Pills

I had a follow-up with my oncologist today.  I was glad to have an appointment with a doctor, as weird as that sounds.  I feel like I spent all summer fighting cancer.  As soon as radiation was done, I started doing...nothing.  I feel like I've just stopped fighting it, and that makes me very uneasy.  I told her that, and she said that it is a very common feeling, and that I had to trust that we've done it.  Easier said than done.

I asked if she would please do a blood draw to make sure my whites had gotten back to normal levels.  I'm pretty sure they are, since I've had two colds and gotten rid of them both within three days, but I want to be sure.  She was very nice about it and told me that they would be happy to.  That means that I got to see Marie!  She's my favorite chemo nurse!  It was awesome to see her while feeling good, instead of in a chemo-induced stupor.  I'll get the results of the blood tests tomorrow.  ::fingers crossed::

I was also given the prescription for Tamoxifen.  Because my cancer was the type that feeds on estrogen, this is a medication that decreases the estrogen in my body.  I will take one pill per day for 5 years.  1825 pills.  Wait.  There is a leap-year in there.  1826 pills.  I hope that the side effects are minimal.

There is a chance, if I was perimenopausal, that this drug will push me into menopause.  Because of the "chemopause," (fake menopause brought on by chemotherapy,) I won't know for a while if this is the case.  Oh goodie.  More unknowns.  I do know that I'm sick of hot flashes and the most common side effect of Tamoxifen is hot flashes.  *sigh*

She was happy with my progress, and I am to go back and see her in three months.  After that, I'll likely see her every six months for the next five years.  I wish someone would do blood work or a scan and say, "Yes! You are cancer free!" but that isn't going to happen.  I just have to trust that it's gone.  I have to trust the doctors.  I have to trust the medication.  I have to trust the treatments.  I have to trust God.

I'm working on it.

Getting On With My Life

Wow.  I haven't posted for a long time.  You're welcome.  Busy season at work and changing back to my regular hours has found me pretty dang tired by the time I get home.  Too tired to type?  OK, that sounds pretty lame, but I honestly get home and do next to nothing.

Last weekend, I decided I wanted to go to St. Louis to see my aunt Charlene and her husband Pat.  The last time we were there, we said we'd do it more often because it didn't take long to get there.  That was 2 years ago.  I told Kevin that I wasn't going to do that anymore.  A year of facing  your own mortality will make a person stop planning and start doing.  It was a fun trip, although far too short.  We're already talking about what we'll do the next time we go.

I found the suspicious lump in January and had a biopsy in February.  I was diagnosed in March and had surgery in April.  I got back to work in June.  I finished chemo on September 19th and finished radiation on November 14th.  I have follow up appointments happening now, but that's about it until the exchange surgery, which will be late May or early June.  I should be super excited that I'm completing treatment, and I am happy, but I'm constantly unsettled.

I think that treatment kept me occupied.  I was doing something.  I was actively fighting cancer.  Somehow it isn't as easy as it should be to accept, "OK.  You're all better.  Go on with your regularly scheduled life now."  Your brain doesn't work like that.  I want to ask, "So that's it?" but then again, I don't want to ask that at all.

My hair is finally growing back.  It's not as long as a crew cut yet, but it's moved from "fuzz" to "hair."  LOL  The gray is a lot easier to see right now, but that's what hair color is for.  I'm just looking forward to the day that I have to "fix my hair" to go somewhere.  Silly but true.

I know some people see a therapist after cancer treatment.  I've never considered myself the type to see someone like that, but I see why some do.  I'm not even saying that I won't.  I just haven't decided yet.  I'm fine most of the time, but not all the time.  I know I'll never be the same as before, but I'd like to get past the anxiety issues that sneak up on me at inopportune times.

It makes me VERY thankful for my Facebook group of friends who have gone through this with me.  We are small enough to have gotten to know each other, but big enough that someone is on pretty much 24/7.  If I can't sleep and it's 2 am and I feel the need to chat, someone is there.  Someone to listen to me whine, or laugh at my jokes, or commiserate about the state of our skin after radiation.  So far, that's all the therapy I need.

Overall, I am fine.  I have been cancer-free since surgery in April.  The chemo and radiation were both "just in case."  That is a lot of ammo to go through just because there "might be a burglar out there somewhere," but it's what was advised, so that's what I did.  And I'm fine.  2012 is a year that I'll be glad to put behind me, but I got through it.

I'm Being Deported

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to have my port removed.  I know that I've been done with chemo for a while, but having that removed kind of makes it official in my head.  I'm looking for all of the milestones I can find, and this is a biggie for me.

Also, as of today, I only have five more radiation treatments left, and they are boosts.  Boosts are higher doses, but to a smaller, more concentrated area.  The highest chance of my cancer coming back is for it to come back in the skin around the scar where the mastectomy was done.  These last five will concentrate on that area.  That means that the rest of the skin can heal.  I am SO ready to be done holding my left arm out away from my body and adjusting my bra, trying to find a few seconds of relief.

I'm also all done (emotionally) with that office/Dr.  That's all I'm going to say about that for now.  

Two months from now, I'll have a follow-up with the plastic surgeon to assess the damage to my skin and tissue.  I plan to have NO damage by then.  Yup.  That's my plan.  Four months after that, I'll have the exchange surgery.  No, not THAT kind of change surgery.  It's the one where they exchange the tissue expander for an implant, and do the surgery to the other side for symmetry.

Ahh, symmetry.  How I miss symmetry. 

Yup, the milestones are ticking by.  I wonder when I'll feel like this is over?  After radiation?  Nah.  Still daily reminders as I'm getting dressed. When my hair has grown enough to not require a head covering? After exchange surgery?  Maybe, but how long after?  When the scars have healed?  

I just can't wait to go an entire day without the C word entering my head.  I have a feeling it will be a long time before that happens, but I'm heading in that direction. 

Online Relationships

I have a lot of support from my family, coworkers and friends.  Still, when I found some breast cancer message boards while doing research (right after diagnosis,) I started growing close to the members there.  I'd never met them, and will likely never get the chance to meet most of them, but there was something I needed there.  These people were going through the EXACT same thing that I was going through.

They would ask questions that I had in my mind but hadn't verbalized.  They would answer my questions with the hours and hours of research they had done before me.  They would lift me up when I was down and just listen when that was what I needed.  I got to "know" them.  I grew to love them.

Someone in that group decided to start a group on Facebook.  That group grew even closer.  They understand the parts of this that nobody else could understand, unless they'd been through it.  We share pictures of scars and of newly growing eyebrows.  We share stories of wigs and prosthetic breasts.  We laugh, we cry, and we make inappropriate jokes.

Yup.  This is a new group of friends that mean the world to me.  I love them all, and I'm thankful for the internet for bringing them into my life.  I've had a rough couple of days lately, and spending a lazy 3 hours online "visiting" with them this morning just makes me smile.  Thanks, girls!

What a Craptastic Day

Damn.  If there is truly something to the Monday curse, I found it today.  Everything I touched turned to crap.  Some of it was my fault, and some was just plain bad luck, wrong place-wrong time, or the mistake of someone else.

Natalie asked my dad if he'd take her to get her permit today.  He said he would, which took a load off us, and I made arrangements for the school to allow her to check out after first hour.  At that point, I waited to hear if she passed or not.  The next thing I know, she's trying to call me, but I was on my work phone.

The short version is that they got to the next town over for the test, and were told they needed her birth certificate.  DUH!  I knew that.  Well, I knew it two years ago, when Monica got hers.  I completely forgot to make sure she had the documents she needed.  I told her where she could find it, but she had NO idea what she was looking for, and wound up taking the hospital one, instead of the official one.

They found this out when they got to the next town over for the second time, and they still wouldn't let her take the test.  By this time, my dad is probably quite hacked off (and rightfully so) and Natalie is in tears.  Later, I found out that she also needs a bill or something to prove residency.  Remember, all of this is just a PART of the horrible Monday.

I got to radiation, and they got me back there right away.  Monday is Xray day, so I knew it would take a bit longer than other days.  No biggie.  When I lie down on that table, I am on my back, and I have to put my left arm behind my head, hanging onto this handle thing.  I must lie VERY still.  They reposition me the way they need me by pulling the sheet that I'm on, pushing me over, moving the table, etc.  I am NOT to "help" them move me in any way.  They even say, "Lay heavy" quite often.  It usually takes a couple of minutes to get me where they want me.  No biggie.

Today, it took them at LEAST 15 minutes to get me positioned properly, and they still didn't seem pleased with how things were going.  They kept moving me, moving the table, reading numbers to each other, moving me again, etc.  Finally, they took the Xrays, and then they moved me a bit more.  Finally, they did the radiation treatment.  I was lying perfectly still for 30 minutes instead of the typical 10.  When they announced I was done, my arm was dead weight.  Sound asleep.  So asleep that I had trouble getting dressed.

It woke up on the way back to work.  It woke up with an excruciating amount of pain.  My shoulder actually still hurts, but the rest of my arm is finally better.  They told me that they made a 5mm adjustment, and would take a couple more Xrays tomorrow, but that it is all normal and that is why they take them every week.  Umm, OK.  5mm seems like a LOT of adjustment for shooting radiation into my body, near my internal organs, but I'll trust the medical professionals.

Work didn't really go much better.  I know how to handle busy season, but I was filling in for someone else who was sick, plus trying to do my stuff, plus cleaning up several messes.  I got it done, but it sure made me crabby.  Those around me were having a similar day, so we all just did our best and powered through.  Tomorrow will be better.  I'm sure of it, and I plan to take that attitude in with me.

Now, if Natalie and my dad forgive me, I'm past the most bothersome part of my day.  The rest is just stuff.

Radiation

Wow.  I post that I got a new car, and then apparently drove off into the sunset in it, never to post to my blog again.  Or maybe I've been back to working full time, doing radiation treatments, and getting my social life back.  Boy, is it nice to accept dinner invitations again.

I started radiation on Monday.  I have a standing appointment at 8am every weekday.  On Monday, I left work too early because I didn't know how long it would take me to get there.  20 minutes is the most it takes, so I allow 30, in case there is traffic.  Yup, I'm driving straight into Kansas City during rush hour.  I haven't had any troubles, though.  Plus, I have an amazing new car to drive!

I got there Monday and they had to do some Xrays.  Because of this, I was there between 20 and 30 minutes.  I guess I'll get a couple Xrays every Monday, but not sure if it will take as long as the first time did. On Wednesdays, I will always have an appointment with my radiation oncologist.  I've found that I can leave work, go to the hospital, park the car, get to the radiation department, undress from the waist up, put on a gown, get radiation, change back into my clothes, and drive back to work....all in an hour.  40 minutes of that is driving!

Yes, it goes fast.  Those ladies know what they're doing, and they're super efficient.  It is a vulnerable feeling to be lying on that table in a big empty room while a machine shoots radiation into you, but there is no pain or discomfort of any kind involved.  They position me, leave the room, the machine does it's thing, and they reposition me again...three times total.

Most of the folks that I know who have had skin reactions do so around 4 weeks in or later.  I'm a week in right now.  I've done 5/33 treatments.  I have a ways to go.  A lot of them have been told to use a certain lotion or some such to the area from a week before starting to the end of radiation therapy.  I haven't been told to use anything.  Most people are told not to use antiperspirant, although some are allowed to use the organic kind.  I haven't been told either of these things.

My Wednesday appointment was a bit different because my Dr. was in a meeting that ran long.  He asked another doctor to see me so I didn't have to wait.  We were together about 90 seconds at most.  I have a couple of questions for this week (about the lotion and antiperspirant, etc.) but it still shouldn't take long.  I can't believe that the visits go that fast, but it makes it easier to keep up full time at work.

This Tuesday, I have an appointment with my medical oncologist as a follow-up to chemo.  I hope she tells me that I can stop being a germaphobe.  My father got sick at a MOST inopportune time, as I was just starting to feel like my old self!  I'm sure I'll be fine, but I want her to tell me so.  I do NOT want to wind up in the hospital again.

Wow, I get long winded when I wait a week to post.  That's all that is going on in the wonderful world of cancer.  I just keep moving forward.  What else can I do?  Move forward through treatment and move forward into our busy season at work.  I know I'm still supposed to rest when possible and not overdo it, so I'm being careful.  I'm just glad that, so far, I'm feeling a bit stronger each day.

Feeling Good (and Confused)

On Monday, I had my radiology consult.  By midday on Tuesday, the bone pain was nearly gone, causing me to take nothing more than Advil.  By Wednesday, I was back to feeling myself...or at least 90% myself, which is the most I could hope for these days.  It felt pretty darn good, too.  I'm back to being myself, and annoying my coworkers.  :)

Yesterday, I got a phone call from radiology, saying that they had my schedule ready, and I would have 33 treatments, starting Monday.  I wrote down everything she said, and was thinking about how to get my full hours in at work while attending an 8:00 appointment every morning.  After hanging up, it hit me:  NEXT Monday???  That's not even 2 weeks after my last chemo, and the oncologist said I'd have a month between for my body to rest and get back to normal.  Also, my whites are at their lowest today through Monday.  *sigh*

I emailed the oncologist's nurse and got back to work while waiting for an answer, although to say I was distracted would be an understatement.  I didn't get an answer by the time I left a bit after 2:00.  The nurse always said that if I don't get an answer, I should call, so as soon as I got in the car, I called in.  (I was on a bluetooth headset, so don't lecture me.)

The receptionist said that my usual nurse wasn't in (thus, the non-answer) but she would transfer me to the other nurse.  I got her voice mail.  *sigh*  I left a detailed message about what I wanted.  This was around 2:15 and her message said she was in until 3:30.  I never got a call back.  Even if she wouldn't have an answer until today, I wish she would have called to tell me that.

I woke up at 2:00 and immediately started thinking about it.  If the oncologist thinks it's too soon to start, I'll have to call radiology and change the plan.  If the oncologist leaves it up to me, I don't know what to do.  Having another couple of weeks off would be nice, but if I start Monday, I'll be done by mid-November.  That would be nice, too.  I just hope it's not up to me.  I want her (the oncologist) to tell me what to do, and I'm sure she will.  These swirling thoughts kept me from going back to sleep, of course.  Sheesh.

If I haven't heard from them by the time I leave today, I'm driving ot her office and talking to someone in person, whether they like it or not.  This is my last business day before I am to start radiation treatments, and if I DON'T start Monday, they deserve a bit of notice that I'm not going to show up.  I sure am fed up with cancer and all that it entails.

Tonight, though, Kevin and I are meeting some friends in Brookside for some dinner and an after-work drink.  I can't believe I'm going to do something like normal people do.  I'm really looking forward to it, too. By the end of the day, I'll have an answer to my radiation confusion, and I'll be hanging out with friends that I haven't seen in too long.

You Just Gotta Laugh

I have fewer "good days" on this drug, and they hit this weekend. Granted, my good days now feel a lot like days when I had the flu, pre-cancer, but I can function.  I got tickled about something on Saturday night and laughed so hard that the girls thought I was crying.

Sunday morning, it happened again. Both girls and I laughed so hard that I nearly hurt myself. I realized, after all had calmed down, that I hadn't laughed that hard in over a month.  Later yesterday, Kevin and the girls were gone, so I went to see Mom and Dad.  As is typical for visiting them, there were quite a few laughs.

The past few days have made me realize that uninhibited, hard, tear-inducing laughter is something that cancer/chemo has stolen from me, and I think I miss it more than I miss my hair. I have two more days before my next round of chemo, and I plan to laugh every chance I get.

Having only four good days out of 14 will wake a person up to what is lacking.  Laughter has been seriously lacking around here.  I'll have to see what I can do about that.  This goof ball usually helps in that department, even when demanding my attention that is being directed at blogging.

Chemo Day 6 of 8

I had an appointment with my oncologist yesterday.  I always have lab work and an appointment with her the day before chemo.  I really like her, and I trust her completely.  She's never been anything but honest and open with me.   However, I was in a foul mood when I got there yesterday, and it caused me to leave there mad at her.

I posted on Facebook that I could tell her that there is battery acid dripping from my eye sockets and my arms have fallen off, and she would smile, nod, and say sweetly, "Yes, you're doing great."  Normally, her positive attitude is what I need.  She is gentle and sweet and understanding.  I think the big ol' chip on my shoulder wanted her to say, "Wow, you're having a rough time, aren't you?  Here's a cookie."  LOL

The truth is, she really does think I'm doing very well, considering the side effects.  She sounds amazed every time she asks if I'm still working and I tell her that I am.  I keep saying that, if my job had better short-term disability pay, I'd take off until this was over.  The truth is, though, I'd be in a worse place, emotionally, if I was home all day feeding my pity party.  At least when I'm at work I am solving other people's problems and not thinking about my own.

Today is the day that I could have slept later.  However, Kevin is trying to get some overtime, so he was up early and the light shines in our room, so I was up by 4.  So much for sleeping in.  I have an appointment with the plastic surgeon (it takes fewer than 5 minutes for a tissue expander fill) and then I double back to this side of the state line for chemo.

Chemo day is a relaxing day.  Any side effects don't kick in for a couple of days, so it's not an uncomfortable experience in any way.  I can play on my computer and relax.  I can take lunch there if I choose, and they have a basket of snacks for those who find themselves hungry and ill prepared.  The nurses are caring and sweet and chatty and genuine.  I don't mind chemo day at all.

Three times, others have gone with me.  It was fun to have someone to visit with, although I always worry they'll be bored.  Kevin took reading material when he went, and my friends Brooke and Tammy each took a turn, hiding any boredom they experienced.

Kevin has planned an outing to Red Lobster for Sunday afternoon.  We don't eat out very often, and he wanted to treat us with some of his OT.  That is my incentive to not hurt so bad this time.  LOL  If it's as bad as last time, it'll just be him and the girls.  If I can do it, I'll be going along.  I LOVE Red Lobster.  Maybe I'll start taking pain pills now to make sure it doesn't get too bad.  I'm kidding, but I DO love those cheddar bay biscuits.

Wow, that turned into a rambling post.  When you wander around that much in a blog post, it's time to stop.

A Sense of Dread

Tomorrow is my blood work and Dr. appointment day.  Wednesday is my chemo day.  I noticed today that I am experiencing a sense of dread about this treatment.  That is new.  It's nagging at the back of my mind, and causing an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Nothing about this cancer trip has been fun.  Nothing has caused joy and celebration.  Still, each treatment has been a step toward completion.  It has just been something that I do...a part of my schedule...no big deal.  Every other Wednesday, I go for chemo.

After the last time (my first Taxol treatment) causing such intense pain, though, I don't wanna go.  It could be completely different and not be so bad this time.  I realize this.  The first two A/C treatments were as expected, the third was a cake walk, and the fourth put me in the hospital.  That means that the first Taxol putting me down for 4 days does NOT mean the second one will.

It's such a short time.  The chemo portion of my treatment will all be over in 4-6 weeks.  I can do anything for 4-6 weeks.  I just don't like the feeling that it's leaving in my stomach.  I bet I'll feel a lot better when Wednesday comes and goes.  Once it's done, it's done.

You can't dread something that's over, right?  (:

Home

They released me on Friday morning, and Kevin came to get me and bring me home.  The only thing that really concerns me is that I have NO idea if my whites are still climbing.  I just have to assume that they are.  I am pretty much on lock-down for the weekend, avoiding public places and close contact.

Monday morning, I'll go back to work, still avoiding close contact until Tuesday's blood work gets drawn.  I had accrued 28 hours of vacation time toward next year, and that will cover most of the 4 days I missed while in the hospital.  I'm thankful that those were available, but a bit scared to have my safety net gone.  This simply cannot happen again.  No problem.

The worst part so far is that it seems that all of the side effects from early on are back.  I have a nearly constant headache, I can't sleep, and I'm emotional as hell.  I had a really bad headache last night, so I took what felt like enough pills to drop an elephant, and was back up at 1:30.  *sigh*  I had been sleeping fine for a couple of weeks (without pills) before this setback.

Basically, I think the quarantine has afforded me too much time to think.  When I go to work tomorrow, I'll be busy, and that will help.  My blood work is set for 3 in the afternoon on  Tuesday, but I may see if I can go early so I can wait for the results.  If my whites aren't back in the normal range of 4.0 - 11.0, I have to cancel my plastic surgeon's appointment and my chemo on Thursday will likely be postponed.

I would think, after over a week on antibiotics, my counts will be fine.  However, I would have thought they'd climb higher than .7 after 4 days on IV antibiotics.  They were .6 on Tuesday .5 on Wednesday, .43 on Thursday, and .7 on Friday.  They can't tell if that was a "trend" toward upward numbers, or just a fluctuation.  They let me come home, though, because there was nothing they were doing there that I cannot do at home.

I'm home.  I figured the "I'm home" post would be happy and fun.  Call it lack of sleep, the headache, or the whiny state I'm in, but I missed that goal by a long shot.  My feelings are hurt by the slightest little thing, I'm exhausted, but need to expend energy in order to get more sleep.  For the first time in my life, I'm in the middle of a weekend that seems to be going on too long.  Sorry, my working friends.  I know that comes as a betrayal to you all.  I promise to be crabby about Monday like the rest of you.

A Change of Plans

I expected bone pain on Monday.  It's one of the joys of my chemo plan.  I get a Neulasta shot on the day after infusion, which helps my bones produce white cells more quickly.  The drawback is that I get bad bone pain (lower back, hips and legs) 3-4 days after the shot.  At least I can plan for it, which means that I knew Monday would be tough.

I made it until about 11 at work and decided to go home and try to get some work done from there.  On the way home, I started feeling overall yucky.  I wasn't even logged in to work before deciding that work wasn't going to happen just yet.  I needed a nap.  I felt like CRAP.  I told the girls that I was going to grab a nap, and went to bed around 1:30.

The next thing I remember, it was nearly 5 and Kevin was home from work.  I was chilling, had a splitting headache, and was overall miserable.  I took my temperature and it was 101.6.  We are to call the on-call doctor if it reaches 100.5, so I asked Kevin to call.  I could barely think, so I knew I wouldn't be able to make a coherent phone call.

She called in an antibiotic, which Kevin went to pick up for me.  She also told me to go in for blood work first thing this morning.  I woke with a temp under 100, so I figured I'd get blood drawn and then go in to work.  Wrong.

They drew blood from my port, drew blood from my arm, took a urine sample and took a chest X-ray.  I waited about an hour for the results, and knew they weren't good when my oncologist came in to deliver the news, instead of the nurse.  She told me that she doesn't like to see white counts under 2000, and mine were 700.  Paired with my fever the night before, she wanted to admit me.  *sigh*

A new problem developed when they found out that there were no beds at the hospital where I was.  I would have to go to the Kansas City location.  I called Kevin, who left work to come get me.  I was exhausted, still had a headache, and didn't feel up to the drive.   Plus, by this point, I was a little bit scared.  We finally headed out around noon, grabbed a bite to eat, and got to "the big hospital."  Seriously, one can easily get lost here.

By the time I was in a room, it was 2:00.  Kevin had to go home to get some necessities for me (I had no phone charger or computer or toothbrush, for heaven's sake!)  They accessed my port again, finally gave me some Tylenol for my headache, and I settled in.

From what they say, I'll be here a couple of days.  I have no fever, and my headache is down to a dull roar when on Tylenol.  I can count on one hand the number of times I've been in the hospital, so I'm not quite sure what to do here.  I guess I'll just do as they say, lie here, and build white blood cells.  Thank goodness for in-room internet.

Family, Kami, and the Bi-Weekly Crash

I surprised Kevin and the girls Friday night by nabbing Kami for the weekend.  We haven't had her in over a month!  I'm scared to keep her when I'm home alone because of the medications that I take (in case she tries to wake me up or something,) and we have had several weekends of company.  This weekend found my family at home and no scheduled company, so I jumped at the chance.

Being day 3 of a chemo cycle, I was having trouble functioning Friday night when I stopped by mom's, but my brother is in town and I wanted to see what was going on over there.  Slowly, the rest of my clan showed up to be surprised by Kameron running to them.  At that point, I headed home to my trusty recliner.

Kevin and I went to the grocery store yesterday, leaving Kami with the girls.  I made it through the store OK, although still running out of breath easily.  I think that is all due to steroids, and I shouldn't have to take those any more, now that my chemo regimen had changed.  After getting groceries all put away, we headed to Mom's for the afternoon.

My appetite was starting to come back, but fruit is all that sounded good, so I ate a ton of fruit.  LOL  Kevin, my brother Jim, and the others all spent HOURS shooting skeet and targets in the back, while I hung at the house with Kami, Mom, and the other non-shooters.  It was nice to spend a whole afternoon over there, although I feel like such a slug when I barely move from the chair.

By last night, I ate part of a cardboard pizza (am I the only one who calls them that?) and it seems that my appetite is back.  This morning's cereal tasted amazing.  Today is crash day, but hopefully my last crash day. If it's true that I no longer need the steroids, then it should be my last.  I'm hoping that Kami wakes up soon so we can play before I melt into a pile of goo in this chair for the rest of the day.

My brother and his family will head home this morning.  I didn't get to see a ton of them, but it was nice to see them as much as I did.  It's been a long time.  I hate that cancer chemo robbed me of being able to take part in the festivities more, but I'm thankful that it exists.  I hope they get home safely and come back sooner next time.  I'll be ready to hang with the gang by then!

Reason Number 472 that Cancer Sucks

I've made a lot of friends online who are going through breast cancer at the same time as I am.  Many are on the same chemo drugs I am, and nearly the same schedule.  It is a fantastic place to learn about treatments, side effects, research, etc.  These women have been great for me, even when we're all just complaining to each other.  I feel a lot less guilt when I complain about a side effect to someone else going through it, instead of to the people who have to live with me.

While having a discussion with these ladies recently, I revealed another one of the 10,000 things that I hate about cancer.  Now that I've lost my hair, I've lost my anonymity.  Before the hair went, I could go out in public and blend in as just another woman in the store.  Now, I'm the sick woman.  Yesterday, during lunch, I told my friend that I hated looking sick.  She said that I didn't look sick to her.  What I meant, though, was the obvious lack of hair.

I just can't bring myself to wear a wig.  That is my choice, and I get that.  I am much more comfortable in a hat, buff or a bandanna, although they make it obvious that I have no hair underneath.  Everywhere I go, it's apparent that I have no hair, and the assumption is made that I am going through chemotherapy.  That brings one of two reactions:  I get the "pity look," or the instant gaze aversion.

I'm doing fine.  I'm getting through it.  I'll be halfway through chemo after Wednesday.  Having no hair has cut my shower time by more than half.  There are little silver linings everywhere.  I just miss blending in.  I miss being just another mom, shopping for toilet paper.

Although I cannot wait until a year from now when I have the reconstructive surgery and this is all behind me, I mostly want chemo to end so my hair can come back, so I can be just another face in the crowd.  When the pity looks and averted looks stop.  Yup.  Give me back my anonymity.

Day 11 is NOT My Friend

I guess there's something to be said for knowing what to expect.  I know that days 7-11 are my "nadir" period, or the lowest point for my blood counts.  You may remember day 11 of my last round, which is when I had the nosebleed at work and they had me come in to get blood drawn.  Well, today is day 11.  Guess what happened?

Kevin's mom came up to visit for a couple of days, bringing his sister's son with her.  They headed home late this morning, and we decided to go grab something to eat.  I was starving, and we don't eat out that often, so we decided on 54th Street, which is always a favorite of my girls.  Kevin planned to go to the store afterward, and I knew that my stamina is too low and that I'd best come straight home after eating, so we took two cars.

Natalie and I climbed into my car, and before I was three blocks from home, the nose started bleeding.  I have been keeping Kleenex in the car, thank goodness.  (When you lose your hair, that includes the tiny hairs in your nose, so it tends to be drippy.  TMI?  Sorry.)  Anyway, I turned quickly into the church that we were passing by, and Kevin followed to see what was up.

I came home and told them to go without me, but he didn't want to.  I shouldn't really be in the public right now, anyway, due to germs, but I was awfully hungry.  LOL  He offered to go get something for me to eat before they went, but I didn't want to make them wait.  Finally, I told him that, if it didn't stop in five minutes, they were leaving without me and I'd eat something at home.

Four minutes later, it finally stopped.  Of course, when I lose that much blood (it was a LOT,) I get a horrible headache (way worse than my daily headache) and get completely worn out.  Still, I was hungry, so we went.  My stomach won an argument with my good sense.  I know I'm supposed to call if that happens, but I called last time and they said my blood counts were OK.  I didn't call.

We ate, it was good, and now I'm home.  What a giant pain in the ass this is going to be.  I suppose there are worse things than a bi-weekly bloody nose.  The bright side is that my hair is almost completely gone, so I can stop shedding everywhere.  I'm tired of THAT little treat, too.  I guess it's karma for all the times I griped at my dogs for shedding in the house.