After tomorrow morning's treatment, I'll be 1/3 of the way through radiation. I keep making little milestones like so it'll go faster. It seems to be working. I feel like this leg of my treatment is moving along more quickly. It helps that I don't feel like crap for a week out of every two. I often leave work, get half undressed, get radiated, get dressed, and get back to work, all within an hour. The most it takes is an hour and 15 minutes.
I'm still not liking my radiology oncologist very well, but I'm hoping I'll change my mind about him. I wait for 10 minutes for him to spend 30 seconds with me. I had to find out online that I shouldn't wear deodorant, and when I asked his nurse about it, she confirmed that I should not. Thanks. That would have been good to know. I can wear the organic stuff, though, so I bought some of that.
I have a little irritation on that side, but it feels more like the top of my rib cage than it does my skin. I'll ask about that on Wednesday, but I don't expect him to have much to say about it. He certainly doesn't spend the time and ask the questions like my medical oncologist does. She even asks about my mental state and how I'm doing with working during treatment, etc. Maybe she's spoiled me.
I get my port out on November 8. I thought that was the day after my last treatment, but now that I'm checking the calendar, it's the Thursday before. After I get it out, I have 4 more treatments. They'll take it out during my office visit. I find that odd. I'll be glad to have rid of it, even though it really hasn't caused me any real problems. It sometimes irritates me a bit, but from some horror stories I've heard, I've been quite fortunate.
I haven't gotten sick, even though I have no white cells fighting for me. I've been pretty strict about avoiding sick people. I noticed today that my eye was irritated, and by afternoon, it felt like I was getting a stye. By the time we got home from mom's, the bump had developed. Yup. I have a stye. I'm a bit concerned, since that's an infection, so I'll call my doctor's office tomorrow and ask them if I should just let it go (which I've always done in the past...styes take care of themselves in a few days) or if they want me to take antibiotic.
It was a good weekend, all in all. I was happy to get to hang out at Dad's, see aunt Rena, and even visit a bit with a couple of uncles that I rarely see. I've avoided Mom and Dad's place for two weeks, because Dad and aunt Rena had been sick. They got better, so we got back to our weekend routine of going out there.
I feel pretty good, and from what I've heard and read, I'll keep getting better, bit by bit. Although I'm really tired at the end of each day, and exhausted at the end of the week, it still beats the heck out of chemo. There are times I feel almost normal. My hair is slowly starting to grow, too. it's just barely there right now, and it doesn't have any color yet, but I hope it will speed up soon. I am also curious to see what color it is when the color returns. I'm a walking science experiment.
Showing posts with label oncologist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oncologist. Show all posts
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, September 28, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, September 24, 2012
That's a "Yes" on Radiation
As I figured, I'll be receiving radiation. Kevin and I met with the radiology oncologist this afternoon to discuss things. He's a likable guy who is good at explaining things in an easy-to-understand way. The most common side effects are fatigue and a diminished appetite. I can handle fatigue, and my back side can handle a diminished appetite.
Of course, he had to tell me of some more serious possible side effects. They have to prepare you for anything, but I sure hate hearing those things. The percentage of a chance of those were quite small, though. I'll consider myself warned, but try not to think about them.
He actually had me go across the hall while we were there for a CT scan and tattoos. The tattoos are slightly larger than the period at the end of this sentence, and there are two of them. He'll now look over the scan, come up with a plan for me, and then the technician will call me to schedule it.
I've heard horror stories of people having to pay a co-pay with each daily visit (x38 visits...you do the math,) but that will not be the case with Saint Luke's. That was nice to hear. I will have to go to the plaza location for treatment, but that's not as big of a deal as those who live near me may think. That location is less than 7 miles from work, so I'll just do morning appointments and then go straight to work.
If I understand what my medical oncologist told me at my last visit, I'll have a month between the end of chemo and the time that radiation starts. That equals three glorious weeks of feeling normal. I'm really looking forward to some happy weekends. I miss going to mom and dad's to just sit and shoot the breeze. I miss getting outside and enjoying this perfect weather. I miss going to school functions. Yeah. I'm looking forward to a bit of normal, even if it's just a few weeks.
Today was excruciating, much like the weekend was, so I've taken some pain meds and plan to go to sleep early. If history holds true, I'll feel a bit better tomorrow, and the pain will be mostly gone by Wednesday, needing only an occasional Tylenol or Advil. After that, look out, world! I'm already conniving to get Kevin to take me to meet up with some friends after work on Friday for a drink. I am so excited to even be thinking about that!
Now, I have some nurses to email with questions. *sigh* I can't wait until cancer and treatment are not the only things I think of. LOL Oh, and staying awake until dark. That'd be a nice change of pace, too. :)
Of course, he had to tell me of some more serious possible side effects. They have to prepare you for anything, but I sure hate hearing those things. The percentage of a chance of those were quite small, though. I'll consider myself warned, but try not to think about them.
He actually had me go across the hall while we were there for a CT scan and tattoos. The tattoos are slightly larger than the period at the end of this sentence, and there are two of them. He'll now look over the scan, come up with a plan for me, and then the technician will call me to schedule it.
I've heard horror stories of people having to pay a co-pay with each daily visit (x38 visits...you do the math,) but that will not be the case with Saint Luke's. That was nice to hear. I will have to go to the plaza location for treatment, but that's not as big of a deal as those who live near me may think. That location is less than 7 miles from work, so I'll just do morning appointments and then go straight to work.
If I understand what my medical oncologist told me at my last visit, I'll have a month between the end of chemo and the time that radiation starts. That equals three glorious weeks of feeling normal. I'm really looking forward to some happy weekends. I miss going to mom and dad's to just sit and shoot the breeze. I miss getting outside and enjoying this perfect weather. I miss going to school functions. Yeah. I'm looking forward to a bit of normal, even if it's just a few weeks.
Today was excruciating, much like the weekend was, so I've taken some pain meds and plan to go to sleep early. If history holds true, I'll feel a bit better tomorrow, and the pain will be mostly gone by Wednesday, needing only an occasional Tylenol or Advil. After that, look out, world! I'm already conniving to get Kevin to take me to meet up with some friends after work on Friday for a drink. I am so excited to even be thinking about that!
Now, I have some nurses to email with questions. *sigh* I can't wait until cancer and treatment are not the only things I think of. LOL Oh, and staying awake until dark. That'd be a nice change of pace, too. :)
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
A Visit to the Doctor
I had a visit with my oncologist today. I've never been so excited for a doctor's appointment in my life. That's kinda sad, but I couldn't wait to talk to her. She was impressed by my overall lack of side effects (nausea, etc) and I was happy to see that I'd lost 8 lbs in the past two weeks. Another benefit! She was also more than ready to help find a solution to the headaches.
She believes that the problem is a combination of lack of sleep and the steroids. (Mom was half right!) I asked if it could truly be the steroids, since I haven't taken one in 10 days. She assured me that it could be. What's weird, is that I didn't have the headache when I was taking them. It came later. That's why she thinks it's in combination with a cumulative lack of sleep.
Her solution was to cut my steroids in half for this round, and she prescribed Ambien. I get steroids in my IV before chemo, and then take the pills for the following three days. Instead of two tablets twice a day, I'll be taking one tablet twice a day. I really, REALLY need this to work, so I've decided that it's going to.
Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. I will be at the plastic surgeon's office for a tissue expander fill at 9:00 in the morning, and then back to this side of the state line for my infusion at 11:00. Because they drew blood while I was there today (my whites are up, by the way,) it will speed things up for tomorrow. No waiting for the lab to get the results sent upstairs.
On Thursday, I hope to get a full 8 hours in, and then I have my Neulasta shot at 4 pm. Chemo weeks are SO busy, but it should make it go by quickly. Also, after tomorrow, I can say that I'm halfway done with the A/C portion of my chemo. That's 1/4 of the way done with chemo! Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts. Doritos. Hey! How'd THAT get in there? Oh well.
She believes that the problem is a combination of lack of sleep and the steroids. (Mom was half right!) I asked if it could truly be the steroids, since I haven't taken one in 10 days. She assured me that it could be. What's weird, is that I didn't have the headache when I was taking them. It came later. That's why she thinks it's in combination with a cumulative lack of sleep.
Her solution was to cut my steroids in half for this round, and she prescribed Ambien. I get steroids in my IV before chemo, and then take the pills for the following three days. Instead of two tablets twice a day, I'll be taking one tablet twice a day. I really, REALLY need this to work, so I've decided that it's going to.
Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. I will be at the plastic surgeon's office for a tissue expander fill at 9:00 in the morning, and then back to this side of the state line for my infusion at 11:00. Because they drew blood while I was there today (my whites are up, by the way,) it will speed things up for tomorrow. No waiting for the lab to get the results sent upstairs.
On Thursday, I hope to get a full 8 hours in, and then I have my Neulasta shot at 4 pm. Chemo weeks are SO busy, but it should make it go by quickly. Also, after tomorrow, I can say that I'm halfway done with the A/C portion of my chemo. That's 1/4 of the way done with chemo! Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts. Doritos. Hey! How'd THAT get in there? Oh well.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Chemo Treatment Number One
Disclaimers:
Today was the day. I woke up and decided I wasn't going to go through with it, but Kevin made me get up and shower, so we went. Once again, I was having a major panic attack this morning, and I'm pretty sure Kevin was having a minor one at the same time. I had forgotten to pack a "chemo bag," so I worked on that this morning. It was good to have something to occupy my time until we left at 8:30.
At 9, I was to put the numbing cream on my port and cover it with a square of plastic wrap, so I did that in the truck. LOL From now on, I'm driving myself to and from treatment, so I may have to rethink that plan, huh? We got there, and I made 17 trips to the bathroom. First of all, I'm supposed to push water. A LOT of water. I hate water, but I do what doctors tell me to do. The nerves probably didn't help that situation much, either.
As with all nerves brought on by a new medical experience, I was perfectly fine as soon as the doctor walked in. She asked questions, made sure to find out if we had any (we had a few, and she answered them to our satisfaction.) Everything looked good, so she announced that I'd be staying for chemo. Good. Another wait may have pushed me over the edge.
I think part of it is the fact that I don't get sick. I don't take pills. I don't go to hospitals. Heck, I don't even get headaches (until lately.) I've gone from that to this horrible disease that requires horrible treatment which causes horrible side effects. I guess I don't do anything halfway. This is my new daily life:
No. I do NOT take all of those every day. However, I must travel with most of them. When I walk into work, my bag sounds like I'm hauling in maracas! (Mental note: Suggest mariachi Mondays at work tomorrow.) Anyway, although most of the above are "as needed," I sometimes need them. So far, I haven't needed prescription pain medication more than 1-2 times a week at most. I just don't know what my side effects will deem necessary.
OK, enough of the downer! My first chemo day was fine. Parts were actually fun and funny, thanks to an amazing husband making inappropriate jokes and an amazing nurse who explained everything so well that it kept me at ease. Thanks to the numbing cream, I didn't even know when she accessed my port. These things were on the cabinet, waiting for me:
The two small vials are for blood draws to check my levels and make sure I'm OK for chemo. Because they had to wait for the lab to get back to them with the results, Marie (the nurse) asked if we'd like to go downstairs and get something to eat. That sounded like an amazing plan, except that I had the tubes hanging from my port, waiting for chemo. She said, "Just drop that down your shirt and go on down." You can't tell me that, and not expect me to have fun with it:
If it wasn't funny enough that I stuffed it in my bra in my cleavage, we got a real good laugh of the fact that I only have HALF of what you could call cleavage. The other side was PURCHASED by me, so I guess it's mine, as the implant will be. So yeah, we'll say cleavage. LOL We went on our adventure downstairs to the hospital cafe, and had a really great lunch for under $10 total for the two of us! (Tight Wad. Party of two.)
When we got back, it was time to get going. She hung a bag of (I think) saline, and a small bag of non chemo drugs. I don't remember what all of them were for, but at least one was for nausea and one was a steroid. Here is my little starter pack:
At this point, the meds were almost gone. After each infusion is complete, more of the fluid is injected to "flush" the port. That's why the large bag. I didn't even use half of it by the time I left, though. Then, it was time to get started on thepoison chemo. The Adriamycin is given with two large syringes so they can keep a super close eye on it. They alternate a few CCs of it and a bit of saline. I told her I was worried her hand would cramp. LOL I'm showing it below, but the drug is red. That is NOT blood!
When that was done and the port was flushed, it was time for the Cytoxan. It can hang on the IV pole, so Marie got to rest her hands. Actually, she was probably in another room doing the same thing for someone else. Poor thing. Here I am while finishing up. Yes, the room was small:
I was playing online. If you know me well, and have been to my house or followed any images of me, you may be having a nagging feeling that this looks VERY familiar to you. I can explain that. I had Natalie take a pictures of me while doing this blog post:
Take away the blanket (we turned our ac off last night) and the IV pole, and I was at home! Oh, the blanket! That is ONE thing I forgot to take, which is the only reason I regret not packing my chemo bag earlier in the week. One of my many distant friends who have sent me amazing packages (seriously, you guys BLOW me away...and kinda make me cry like a girl a little bit...I gotta work on that,) sent the following that she made for me, just for chemo treatments!
She explained her design in her very touching note. "Zebra print, because you're so "wild & crazy"; pink hearts, because we love you." It is DEFINITELY ready for my next appointment. The blankets they have there sucked. May as well give me a sheet.
Finally, if you made it this long without falling asleep or passing out (that last part was for the wussies,) I will give out a parting laugh. As we exited the office after my visit was complete, we saw this in the hallway. I think you can read it if you click on it:
Kevin said, very simply, "Hmmm. I sure hope those boxes are empty."
- This is a freaking LONG post. A lot of people wanted details, and boy oh boy did I give details. You won't hurt my feelings if you bail early.
- There is a TINY amount of blood showing in my port access tube in one shot. TINY. However, you blood wussies have been warned.
- There is a shot of a HUGE syringe full of one of my chemo meds that just happens to be red. I promise you, I would NOT spring a picture of that much blood on you, after warning you about the tiny bit in the other shot.
- My "cleavage" shows, but it's mostly shirt and post-mastectomy sports bra, so don't get your hopes up, pervs. Takes all the fun out of it, doesn't it?
- These images will not show up on FB. Not because I don't want to show them there, but because I don't want to type captions. I'll link to this post there, though.
Today was the day. I woke up and decided I wasn't going to go through with it, but Kevin made me get up and shower, so we went. Once again, I was having a major panic attack this morning, and I'm pretty sure Kevin was having a minor one at the same time. I had forgotten to pack a "chemo bag," so I worked on that this morning. It was good to have something to occupy my time until we left at 8:30.
At 9, I was to put the numbing cream on my port and cover it with a square of plastic wrap, so I did that in the truck. LOL From now on, I'm driving myself to and from treatment, so I may have to rethink that plan, huh? We got there, and I made 17 trips to the bathroom. First of all, I'm supposed to push water. A LOT of water. I hate water, but I do what doctors tell me to do. The nerves probably didn't help that situation much, either.
As with all nerves brought on by a new medical experience, I was perfectly fine as soon as the doctor walked in. She asked questions, made sure to find out if we had any (we had a few, and she answered them to our satisfaction.) Everything looked good, so she announced that I'd be staying for chemo. Good. Another wait may have pushed me over the edge.
I think part of it is the fact that I don't get sick. I don't take pills. I don't go to hospitals. Heck, I don't even get headaches (until lately.) I've gone from that to this horrible disease that requires horrible treatment which causes horrible side effects. I guess I don't do anything halfway. This is my new daily life:
No. I do NOT take all of those every day. However, I must travel with most of them. When I walk into work, my bag sounds like I'm hauling in maracas! (Mental note: Suggest mariachi Mondays at work tomorrow.) Anyway, although most of the above are "as needed," I sometimes need them. So far, I haven't needed prescription pain medication more than 1-2 times a week at most. I just don't know what my side effects will deem necessary.
OK, enough of the downer! My first chemo day was fine. Parts were actually fun and funny, thanks to an amazing husband making inappropriate jokes and an amazing nurse who explained everything so well that it kept me at ease. Thanks to the numbing cream, I didn't even know when she accessed my port. These things were on the cabinet, waiting for me:
The two small vials are for blood draws to check my levels and make sure I'm OK for chemo. Because they had to wait for the lab to get back to them with the results, Marie (the nurse) asked if we'd like to go downstairs and get something to eat. That sounded like an amazing plan, except that I had the tubes hanging from my port, waiting for chemo. She said, "Just drop that down your shirt and go on down." You can't tell me that, and not expect me to have fun with it:
If it wasn't funny enough that I stuffed it in my bra in my cleavage, we got a real good laugh of the fact that I only have HALF of what you could call cleavage. The other side was PURCHASED by me, so I guess it's mine, as the implant will be. So yeah, we'll say cleavage. LOL We went on our adventure downstairs to the hospital cafe, and had a really great lunch for under $10 total for the two of us! (Tight Wad. Party of two.)
When we got back, it was time to get going. She hung a bag of (I think) saline, and a small bag of non chemo drugs. I don't remember what all of them were for, but at least one was for nausea and one was a steroid. Here is my little starter pack:
At this point, the meds were almost gone. After each infusion is complete, more of the fluid is injected to "flush" the port. That's why the large bag. I didn't even use half of it by the time I left, though. Then, it was time to get started on the
When that was done and the port was flushed, it was time for the Cytoxan. It can hang on the IV pole, so Marie got to rest her hands. Actually, she was probably in another room doing the same thing for someone else. Poor thing. Here I am while finishing up. Yes, the room was small:
I was playing online. If you know me well, and have been to my house or followed any images of me, you may be having a nagging feeling that this looks VERY familiar to you. I can explain that. I had Natalie take a pictures of me while doing this blog post:
Take away the blanket (we turned our ac off last night) and the IV pole, and I was at home! Oh, the blanket! That is ONE thing I forgot to take, which is the only reason I regret not packing my chemo bag earlier in the week. One of my many distant friends who have sent me amazing packages (seriously, you guys BLOW me away...and kinda make me cry like a girl a little bit...I gotta work on that,) sent the following that she made for me, just for chemo treatments!
She explained her design in her very touching note. "Zebra print, because you're so "wild & crazy"; pink hearts, because we love you." It is DEFINITELY ready for my next appointment. The blankets they have there sucked. May as well give me a sheet.
Finally, if you made it this long without falling asleep or passing out (that last part was for the wussies,) I will give out a parting laugh. As we exited the office after my visit was complete, we saw this in the hallway. I think you can read it if you click on it:
Kevin said, very simply, "Hmmm. I sure hope those boxes are empty."
Thursday, May 31, 2012
The Story of Jaxson's Departure
I'm really still too tired to do this entry, but I did some work from home tonight and am just now winding down. (Before you think my employer is an ass, please know that I'm doing it by choice to help make up time I miss for appointments, so it's a favor and it did NOT have to be done tonight...I just decided to get step one done.) Phew. What a disclaimer! I got up at 4:30 this morning and made it to work by 6:30 since they've loosened up my schedule, but I will NOT be doing that tomorrow. Not seeing what the clock is telling me now! :)
Nurse Terri gave me the new wrap with tighter compression on Friday, and told me that as soon as I had two days under 30cc, they'd pull the drain. I let her know on Tuesday that it was 25, and she said, "Call and come in tomorrow if it's still under 30 and we'll pull it." It was 28. Rock on.
I called as soon as the office opened on Wednesday, and the lady said, "We can get you in on Friday afternoon." I nearly cried. I gathered my composure and said, "But Terri said to come in this afternoon." She asked if I was seeing only Terri, or also the Dr. When I told her it was just me and Terri, she said, "Oh! OK, how about 1:30 today?" PHEW!
It was pretty quick. She cut the stitch, told me to take a deep breath, and then said, "That's it!" He was out. She held a bit of gauze over the opening like they do after removing a needle after a blood draw. After a few seconds, she pulled it off to look and said, "Oh boy! Oops!" and put the gauze back, asking me to hold it there while she got more.
She got more, I let go, and she said, "Woah!" as she put more on. I would have worried, but she is amazing and kept telling me that it is nothing to worry about, it's normal after a drain is in that long, and it's better to leak out than to be retained inside. OK. She asked me to hold the gauze once again and got a thicker, plastic-backed bandage. It was taped to me and we crossed fingers that it wouldn't leak, since I was going back to work.
It didn't. I hit "the wall" around 4 and headed home. I wasn't even 5 miles from work when it leaked a bit. Talk about timing! At least I was gone! By bedtime last night, it was nothing but a tiny dot on the bandage. Kind of like what you have on the cotton ball they put on you after drawing blood. After all day today, there wasn't even a dot. I guess it's done. Except...
I'm getting a seroma that will likely require a trip to thecutter general surgeon's office tomorrow. I'm supposed to go to the plastic surgeon for the first fill of my tissue expander, and Terri and I have already discussed the fact that I'll likely be sent there for needle aspiration. Cutter's office has an ultra sound, so they can do it while making sure they miss the tissue expander.
*sigh* That means leaving work shortly after noon, going to Leawoodfreaking, KS, and then being sent to St. Luke's on the Plaza. (That won't mean anything to anyone not from this area, but it's an inconvenient trip, OK?) After all of that, I have to call the oncologist. Yup. Time to get chemo back on the calendar, now that Jaxson is gone. I avoided that for today, just to have control over one more day.
Childish? Yes. Too bad! Tomorrow, I'll act like an adult again.
Nurse Terri gave me the new wrap with tighter compression on Friday, and told me that as soon as I had two days under 30cc, they'd pull the drain. I let her know on Tuesday that it was 25, and she said, "Call and come in tomorrow if it's still under 30 and we'll pull it." It was 28. Rock on.
I called as soon as the office opened on Wednesday, and the lady said, "We can get you in on Friday afternoon." I nearly cried. I gathered my composure and said, "But Terri said to come in this afternoon." She asked if I was seeing only Terri, or also the Dr. When I told her it was just me and Terri, she said, "Oh! OK, how about 1:30 today?" PHEW!
It was pretty quick. She cut the stitch, told me to take a deep breath, and then said, "That's it!" He was out. She held a bit of gauze over the opening like they do after removing a needle after a blood draw. After a few seconds, she pulled it off to look and said, "Oh boy! Oops!" and put the gauze back, asking me to hold it there while she got more.
She got more, I let go, and she said, "Woah!" as she put more on. I would have worried, but she is amazing and kept telling me that it is nothing to worry about, it's normal after a drain is in that long, and it's better to leak out than to be retained inside. OK. She asked me to hold the gauze once again and got a thicker, plastic-backed bandage. It was taped to me and we crossed fingers that it wouldn't leak, since I was going back to work.
It didn't. I hit "the wall" around 4 and headed home. I wasn't even 5 miles from work when it leaked a bit. Talk about timing! At least I was gone! By bedtime last night, it was nothing but a tiny dot on the bandage. Kind of like what you have on the cotton ball they put on you after drawing blood. After all day today, there wasn't even a dot. I guess it's done. Except...
I'm getting a seroma that will likely require a trip to the
*sigh* That means leaving work shortly after noon, going to Leawoodfreaking, KS, and then being sent to St. Luke's on the Plaza. (That won't mean anything to anyone not from this area, but it's an inconvenient trip, OK?) After all of that, I have to call the oncologist. Yup. Time to get chemo back on the calendar, now that Jaxson is gone. I avoided that for today, just to have control over one more day.
Childish? Yes. Too bad! Tomorrow, I'll act like an adult again.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
One More Step
They called this afternoon. I have an appointment with the oncologist on Thursday afternoon at 2:30. That's when I'll find out what they want to do, medically. Chemo? Radiation? Both? Who knows? I will know by Thursday evening. After that, it'll be another appointment with the surgeon (early next week) to get our final game plan in place.
If I am to do chemo, I'll likely start nearly immediately. WAH! Yes, that is freaking me out more than the other stuff. Yes, I know. Yes, it will grow back. Yes, I'll feel good again after. Yes, I know. Hell, I'll cry about what I want to, OK? Today I cried because I won't get perfect attendance this year. Stupid? Yup. I'm really proud of perfect attendance, and I'm looking for little things to freak out about, so I don't freak out about having cancer. Later, I intend to cry over spilled milk. Try to stop me.
OK, that made it sound like I'm crying non-stop. That's not true. I functioned at work JUST fine today. I'm doing fine now. There are just certain times that I need to cry. Hell, let's keep it in perspective: I cry at the Folgers Christmas commercials! I cry at greeting card commercials. I cry at sappy movies. It's what I'm good at.
If I am to do chemo, I'll likely start nearly immediately. WAH! Yes, that is freaking me out more than the other stuff. Yes, I know. Yes, it will grow back. Yes, I'll feel good again after. Yes, I know. Hell, I'll cry about what I want to, OK? Today I cried because I won't get perfect attendance this year. Stupid? Yup. I'm really proud of perfect attendance, and I'm looking for little things to freak out about, so I don't freak out about having cancer. Later, I intend to cry over spilled milk. Try to stop me.
OK, that made it sound like I'm crying non-stop. That's not true. I functioned at work JUST fine today. I'm doing fine now. There are just certain times that I need to cry. Hell, let's keep it in perspective: I cry at the Folgers Christmas commercials! I cry at greeting card commercials. I cry at sappy movies. It's what I'm good at.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Lymph Nodes 2, cancer 0
The ultra sound I had after the mammogram and during the biopsy indicated no cancer in the lymph nodes, but MIRs show more details. I had the MRI on Friday, and thought it'd be Tuesday or Wednesday before I heard about results.
I have a smart phone that I love most things about, but the vibrate feature is VERY weak. I took it out at 4 this afternoon, and saw that I had a voicemail. It was from the surgeon at 3:45, saying he'd try again after his 4:00 meeting. Crap. I immediately took it off vibrate, and turned the volume to "high."
While I was on the way home, he DID call back. He had the results of the MRI. It agrees with the ultrasound that the cancer is NOT in my lymph nodes. I have some BADASS lymph nodes, ok? There is no way to know, with 100% accuracy, that they are clear, until after surgery when they remove at least one. I'm still taking this as WONDERFUL news. NOTHING has suggested that it's there, and TWO things have suggested that it's not.
The other thing is that the right breast is fine. Nothing at all and no need for concern. After several comments that "insurance has to cover reconstruction," I started doing online research. It's TRUE! There was a law passed about it. SWEET. That made my decision to do the mastectomy instead of begging the surgeon to try to save it. Oh yeah. There's another reason for THAT, too.
Instead of two tumors, like they thought, the MRI indicates that it's likely one tumor, shaped like a dumbell. (shut it!) If that's true, it's a bit over 6 cm. Wow. The surgeon said that may rule out lumpectomy, but we've pretty much ruled that out for ourselves.
His nurses will schedule an appointment with an oncologist this week, and I'll likely be in surgery within 2-3 weeks. Oh. Another thing, for anyone who hasn't been close to this sort of thing: I need a surgeon and and an oncologist. That is a cutter, and a medicine guy. I've seen the cutter, and will see the medicine guy this week. Medicine guy decides if I'm a candidate for chemo or whatever else, and surgery will likely be within 2-3 weeks.
OK. That's it. I'm doing better after each appointment or conversation with those who know what they're doing. I'm crying when I have time to do so, but it's not all sadness. It's just overwhelmed. I'm overwhelmed with information, overwhelmed with love and caring from friends and family, overwhelmed with the parts of life that must go on, and overwhelmed with worry. Still, I'm feeling better.
Sorry this turned into a cancer blog. LOL Not as sorry as I am that I got cancer, though. :)
I have a smart phone that I love most things about, but the vibrate feature is VERY weak. I took it out at 4 this afternoon, and saw that I had a voicemail. It was from the surgeon at 3:45, saying he'd try again after his 4:00 meeting. Crap. I immediately took it off vibrate, and turned the volume to "high."
While I was on the way home, he DID call back. He had the results of the MRI. It agrees with the ultrasound that the cancer is NOT in my lymph nodes. I have some BADASS lymph nodes, ok? There is no way to know, with 100% accuracy, that they are clear, until after surgery when they remove at least one. I'm still taking this as WONDERFUL news. NOTHING has suggested that it's there, and TWO things have suggested that it's not.
The other thing is that the right breast is fine. Nothing at all and no need for concern. After several comments that "insurance has to cover reconstruction," I started doing online research. It's TRUE! There was a law passed about it. SWEET. That made my decision to do the mastectomy instead of begging the surgeon to try to save it. Oh yeah. There's another reason for THAT, too.
Instead of two tumors, like they thought, the MRI indicates that it's likely one tumor, shaped like a dumbell. (shut it!) If that's true, it's a bit over 6 cm. Wow. The surgeon said that may rule out lumpectomy, but we've pretty much ruled that out for ourselves.
His nurses will schedule an appointment with an oncologist this week, and I'll likely be in surgery within 2-3 weeks. Oh. Another thing, for anyone who hasn't been close to this sort of thing: I need a surgeon and and an oncologist. That is a cutter, and a medicine guy. I've seen the cutter, and will see the medicine guy this week. Medicine guy decides if I'm a candidate for chemo or whatever else, and surgery will likely be within 2-3 weeks.
OK. That's it. I'm doing better after each appointment or conversation with those who know what they're doing. I'm crying when I have time to do so, but it's not all sadness. It's just overwhelmed. I'm overwhelmed with information, overwhelmed with love and caring from friends and family, overwhelmed with the parts of life that must go on, and overwhelmed with worry. Still, I'm feeling better.
Sorry this turned into a cancer blog. LOL Not as sorry as I am that I got cancer, though. :)
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