Weekly Update

I suppose that is a fitting title, since it's been a week since I last posted.  It seems weird to say, but life is pretty much going on as normal.  I never thought I'd be so happy for a normal, boring, routine life.  I made it through a five-day week after 2 three-day weeks.  It seemed long, but we made it.

I have an appointment with my plastic surgeon on Wednesday morning.  It's the 2-month post radiation visit. He'll evaluate how hard it was on me.  I have some questions for him, too.  I think I'm going to have to see a physical therapist for my left arm, but I want his opinion before deciding.  I'm also hoping that he'll schedule surgery.  It'll be 4 months down the road, but I want a date to look forward to.

We're having our roof replaced, and they got partly done before a cold front and snow came through.  There is a tarp on my roof.  Anyone who has ever seen my crazy neighbor's house knows how I feel about that.  They're to be back to work tomorrow, though.  It should be done this week.  Here's hoping.

I caught some cold bug that was sticking around too long, and my oncologist thought I should see our family doctor.  I did, and he prescribed a Z pack for me to prevent it from turning into anything ugly.  I have been told that I'll have to be super careful about illness from now on.  I was NOT raised to go to a doctor for a cold, so I felt silly being there, but our family doctor agreed that I should be there.  I'm almost over whatever it was, finally.  Just a bit of a tickle left in my throat.

It's 8:00, and my body has decided that I should turn in.  I'm trying to listen to my body when it comes to how much sleep I need.  I push it a bit later on most Tuesdays to watch Parenthood, but sometimes I can't make it.  Thank goodness for DVR.  I hope my sleep patterns get back to a pre-chemo state, but it doesn't seem like it's moving that direction.  I know other ladies (who went through this journey at the same time as me) who cannot sleep more than a few hours at a time, though.  I am smart enough to be thankful for the sleep I get, no matter when I get it.

Goodnight!

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.

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.

Quarantine!

That is a dramatic title, isn't it?  LOL  That's me.  I'm all about the drama.

Kevin and I left the house shortly after five yesterday morning.  I do my best in the morning, and lose steam in the afternoon, so we headed out before the sun came up.  IHOP was our breakfast choice, and then we did some shopping.  I'm at a point in my chemo cycle that I really shouldn't be out around the germs that come with John Q. Public, but I was careful not to touch anything, and it was so early that there were no crowds.

By nine, I was starting to get tired.  I didn't even want to stay at WalMart long enough to get groceries.  We had grabbed the other things we needed, and I just wanted to be home.  I knew Kevin wanted to eat Chinese before the day was over, so I suggested that he take the girls for dinner and they do the grocery shopping.  A plan was formed.

I took a nap while the girls cleaned the house.  They've been slacking on chores lately, so the whole job was theirs.  I must say that they did a pretty darn good job.  I was happy with what I saw when I woke up.  They left for their adventure, and I went to visit my aunt and cousin for a while.  I got home before them and ate some dinner.

Later in the evening, Natalie sat down on the love seat and sneezed.  I asked if she was sick.  "I don't think so." was her answer, but her voice sounded very nasal.  And then she sneezed again.  By then it was after 8:30, so I just went to bed.  This morning I sanitized the remote controls, light switch plates, and anything else that I thought she may have touched.

A little bit ago she came upstairs.  Yup, she's sick.  I can't chance getting sick or it will postpone my chemo that is scheduled for Wednesday.  Postponing chemotherapy gives the cancer cells a chance to recover and start growing and multiplying again.  I do NOT want to postpone it.  Therefore, I am in my room for the day.  This is a germ-free zone.  I have a TV, my laptop, books and magazines, and my water bottle.  I think I'm set.

So Much for 40 Hours

This is the week I was going to work 40 hours.  All I had to do today was seven hours and 45 minutes.  No biggie.  I've felt fine most of this week, and I got in early, so it should have been smooth sailing.  Should have been.

About an hour in, my nose just started gushing blood with no warning.  Well, what an interesting development.  And I was glad I had a spare shirt in my car.  It took over ten minutes to get it to stop, and the whole time I was thinking, "I think this is on the list."   There is a list of side effects that, if they  happen, I am to call any time, day or night.  When I finally got it stopped, I checked the list.

Yup.  It's on the list.  I didn't call right away, though.  I knew the office would be open in less than an hour, and it had stopped bleeding, so I waited until the office opened at eight and called.  I had to leave a message, but I got a call back in under five minutes.  The told me to come in for a blood draw.  I may need a platelet transfusion.  Shit.

They flushed my port, drew the blood, and left the port accessed, just in case they needed to do something, and then the wait started.  The nurse, whom I love, told me they'd put a "stat request" on the blood work with the lab.  I had electronics to entertain me, so I was fine.  After 30 minutes, I heard her ripping into someone in the lab.  It was funny.  She is grandmotherly and sweet and it was funny to hear that side of her.,

After 45 minutes, the results came back and she said all was OK.  I went back to work, knowing I could still get that 40 hours I was seeking.  I worked about an hour and a half and started feeling kinda crummy.  My headache was a bit worse, and then my face felt hot.  I checked my temp and it was 99, so I decided that it wasn't in the cards to get 40 hours this week.  I left at the 38 hour mark.

Now I'm home, in the recliner again, and just tired.  I hope I feel better for the weekend, since this process starts all over again on Wednesday.  I am relieved to know that my blood counts are in an acceptable range. That will make me feel better if any other weirdness pops up this weekend.

(Just so there is no confusion, nobody but me is pushing for 40 hours.  My employer is being amazing about letting me work whatever I can, and Kevin can't believe I'm getting in the number of hours that I am.  I just want to do 40 on the off week, since I'll always be short on the chemo weeks.)

In Search of 40 Hours

The plan is to get 40 hours in at work on my non-chemo weeks.  I had it worked out in my head.  This should be the week that I can do it.  No appointments, no steroids, and no shots.  Why won't my body play along nicely?  LOL

I woke this morning with the alarm, which is a first in a week.  It means I got more sleep than I had been getting lately.  I woke when Monica got home from work, and one other time, but was able to go back to sleep after a while.  This should have made me feel good this morning, but I could tell that something wasn't quite right.  I showered and started getting ready, since my morning shower often fixes things that aren't quite right.

I took my temperature, since I'm supposed to call if it reaches 100.5.  99.7 was the first reading, 99.9 was the second (when I got to work,) and I had a major headache.  I do NOT get headaches, so it was consuming all of my concentration, so I took a couple of Advil.  It knocked the temp down to a normal person's normal (I usually run low, but whatever) and took the edge off the headache.

I got my eight hours in today, but it wasn't a joy ride.  I still claim to be quite blessed by not being nauseous so far.  Most food still doesn't sound good, and when something DOES taste good, I take advantage and eat before it loses it's appeal.  Dinner was great today until I was about 3/4 of the way through, and suddenly it was gross.  LOL  Oh well.  I'll keep buying chicken noodle soup and crackers and be thankful that I can hold it down.  So many people cannot do that while doing chemo. 


I plan to turn in early tonight and wake up tomorrow without this pesky headache.  I've alternated Advil and Tylenol all day and choose not to do this again tomorrow.  I choose not to have a headache.  I choose to feel good tomorrow.  I certainly have a new appreciation for anyone who works all day with a headache.  I have friends who get them frequently, and I cannot imagine.  

Appointment Tomorrow

Tomorrow is my appointment with the plastic surgeon.  I don't have PDAS with this appointment, and I think I know why:  This doctor isn't going to give me any bad news.  When I saw the surgeon, I didn't know what to expect.  When I saw the oncologist, I didn't know what to expect.  This is the plastic surgeon.  He's going to fix what the other one does.

Sweet!  I can go to work before my appointment, and return to work after the appointment, and I will have NO symptoms of PDAS.  No sick stomach, no shaking legs, no shortness of breath, and no rapid heartbeat.  I'm not dreading this appointment at all.  I'm just waiting to find out what's next.  Let's get this party started.