I've Been Deported

What an eventful day!  I went to work for an hour and a half, and then headed to radiation.  This was the first of five boosts.  The boosts are going to be MUCH quicker than the regular radiation.  They just do one blast to a concentrated area, instead of 6 blasts to various parts of my skin, chest wall, etc.  Today was the lining-up day, and starting tomorrow, it will go quickly.

After that I drove around to the other side of the same hospital to get my port removed.  I was so excited!  I'm not sure why, but I think it's because it's just one more step toward being done.  I got parked, in to the office, and checked in a full 10 minutes early.  I was ready to get this show on the road!

The nurse took me in and took my vitals, and then told me to undress from the waist up and put on a gown.  I couldn't wait.  When she came back, the Dr. was following her, as was his medical student shadow.  He started talking to the student about the fact that I was in active radiation, and they usually don't get to see patients until six months after.  Then he asked if they could see the radiation site because he rarely gets to.  Umm, sure!  Why not?  They talked as they viewed my raw skin.  Come on, guys.  Let's yank this port!

Finally, they were ready.  The nurse placed a special pad on my lower abdomen.  It was to ground me so the equipment wouldn't shock me.  Very interesting.  After that, the surgeon (I really like this guy) started disinfecting and then numbing the skin.  It was time to start!  He warned me that I'd feel a bit of pressure, and I could tell that he was slicing into me.  This was getting interesting!

As he was cutting, I said, "So...are there any rules against you giving the port to me?  I mean, can I have it?" He thought for a minute and then said, "Well, you paid for it.  Sure you can have it."  I got 17 kinds of excited!  I have friends and workmates who thought I wouldn't ask, and now I'd asked.  Not only that, he said YES!

As I was reveling in the fact that I was going to leave with port in hand, I noticed smoke rising from my chest, and I could smell burned flesh.  Umm.  Weird.  "Is that normal?" I asked.  He assured me that it was.  I then lamented, "That makes me want bacon."  By now, the whole room was laughing with me.  I love it when an act comes together.

At one point during the procedure, the surgeon said, "Wow.  This one is in there deep.  I did a really good job with this."  LOL  That made me giggle.  He was admiring his work, even as he dug it out of the scar tissue that had formed around it.  Funny stuff.  If it was so deep, that might explain why it didn't bother me, and some people complain about theirs.

Finally, it was done.  He had stitched me up, leaving only a 1 1/2" scar:

I think his stitching job was amazing.  I can only see the knot at the left side of this picture.  It will soon dissolve.  He cut along the same scar that was created when he placed the port to begin with.  The nurse offered to clean up the port for me so I could take it with me.  Sweet!  She brought it back wrapped in a towel and placed in a bio-hazard bag.  Awesome!  It sat on my desk all day:

I went back to work, grinning all the way.  I had forgotten how nice it was to visit with a doctor that I like.  I like all but one, but the one bad apple is the one that I'm forced to see once a week right now.  Seeing the wonderful Dr. Shook was SO refreshing.  I couldn't wait to tell my coworkers that I had my port with me!  In fact, I called a couple of them on the way to work!

Why did I want it?  I have several reasons.  I am weird.  They said I wouldn't ask.  I am weird.  It made me feel brave to ask.  I'm weird.  I want to freak people out with it.  I'm weird.  The nurse asked if I wanted her to cut off the catheter part (that went into my vein) and I said, "NO! Why?  I paid for the whole thing!"  She laughed and left it in tact.

I think I'll make a Christmas ornament out of it.  After Christmas, I'll fashion it into something that can hang from my rear view mirror.  What an awesome conversation piece that will be!  Yup.  It was part of my body for seven months.  I'm not going to just toss it aside.  Maybe I'll make a necklace out of it.   Wanna see it?  Do you?  OK, here goes:

See?  That's not gross!  The circle in the middle of the purple part is where they stuck the needle for blood draws and for chemo. It can be pierced over and over and over.  Such a cool little invention.  

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, Round Two

This time, I remembered to jot down the names of everything they give me in that IV.  I know they switch things out a lot, and I was mad at myself for not taking notes the first time.  I'll share what they are, but first I have to give a shout-out to my girls.

I went by myself this time, armed with computer, books, etc to occupy my time.  I fired up the computer, and within five minutes, Monica was sending a Skype request.  I accepted, and then laughed the remainder of my time there.  She started out by dancing for me.  She turned on music and just went to town, dancing and dancing longer than you can imagine.  The nurse got a big kick out of it, too.

Soon, Natalie joined her and they both danced.  We chatted and made bad jokes and laughed.  Monica even played her guitar and sang for me!  At one point, the nurse called another nurse to come watch.  They both laughed with us.  Later, she told me that she's been doing this for 23 years, and has never been serenaded before.  It really made the time fly by!

Now, back to all the IV bag swapping!  Here is the stuff that I currently get, every other Wednesday.  Bags 3, 5, and 7 are the same bag, they just switch to it between other stuff.  All of it goes through my port access, but the Adriamycin has to be done via syringe (slowly) and watched.  It's some bad-ass stuff.  Fun fact:  Makes me pee red, too.  TMI?  Sorry.  Too late.  Here goes:


Bag 1
Dexamethasone - Steroid
Famotidine -Nausea
Palonosetron - Nausea

Bag 2
Emend - Nausea

Bag 3
Saline

Bag 4
Adriamycin via syringe (2) - Chemo

Bag 5
Saline

Bag 6
Cytoxan - Chemo

Bag 7
Saline

Time for a Freak Out?

Nah.  Not really.  I'm having my moments, but I'm getting by just fine.  I did decide that next Friday is my last day at work, pre-op. I am taking the Monday and Tuesday before surgery to take care of some things, and make sure that I avoid the she-has-surgery-tomorrow-pity-face.

It's one foot in front of the other for a week and a half.  I wish I could fast forward.  No...I wish I could rewind.  No...I wish I could pause.  No...I wish I could....never mind.

A bestie sent this to me today, and it made me smile, because it's true.  Part of the time.

Sorry for the F Bomb, Mom.  Maybe you shouldn't link to this one.  I am supposed to read an 8 page document about possible side-effects/difficulties.  I couldn't make it through.  I made Kevin finish my homework.  He has to do what I say.  I have cancer.

I Don't KNOW!

I knew this morning would be rough.  I knew everyone would want more details.  I don't KNOW details.  I will meet with the surgeon on Thursday, and I have already started my list of questions.  Kevin is going with me so I don't miss/forget anything.  It's usually ME doing this for HIM.  LOL

So, I went to work with the same attitude I've had all weekend.  I joke.  Someone put an order at my desk and I said, "I can't do all this work.  I have CANCER!"  I wanted to puke out that C word as much as possible, so my workmates could get used to it, and learn to say it.  I made my girls say it this weekend, too.  They're doing better.

It's cancer, and that's all I know.  I'll know more Thursday.  Until then, let's see how many times I can play the "cancer card" at work (and at home.)  Tomorrow's my birthday, and I'll be able to say, "Please do _____ for me.  It's my birthday.  And I have cancer."

Evil?  Me?  Yeah, probably.