Saturday, November 26, 2011

Giving Thanks

It's a few days late, but it's never to late to discuss what we are thankful for. Even while living with cancer I am thankful for so many things. Of course, I am thankful for my fantastic family. Michael, Olivia, and Conor - you are my world. My Sissy, Mom, Dad, and Ellie, I am so thankful for you rallying with me right now. I adore each of you. To my friends, and there too many of you to mention, it has given me strength and peace to know I have so many friends sending out good vibes and prayers for me. I even see I have followers from around the world. I am thankful for that, and it's my hope I'm helping others as others have helped me.

I am also thankful for our four cats and two dogs. The dogs give me unconditional love. And two of the cats KNOW I have cancer. They will lay next to my shoulders and put their hands on my face. They seem to be comforting me. And it works. I listen to the rhythm of their purring and it often lulls me to sleep.

Speaking of sleep, it is pretty much all I've done in the past 10 days. On Thanksgiving Day, I would stay up for a few hours and be forced to lay down and sleep again. We had a wonderful family dinner together and I was asleep by 6 p.m. The next day, I slept all day to recover. Thus, I'm extremely thankful for a comfortable bed! I'm thankful for books to keep my mind sharp in between naps. I LOVE reading with a passion. I believe I would be known as a voracious bibliophile.

I'm thankful for the beautiful city I live in and the mountains surrounding Pocatello. And in those beautiful mountains are trails I will again hike once I've completed my surgeries and treatments. Trees, leaves, streaming water, butterflies, dragonflies, deer, rabbits, and fellow Pocatellans enjoying the beauty of the outdoors.

As of late, I've been thankful for honey crisp apples, chocolate, and yogurt ice cream bars. Our food on Thanksgiving was fantastic. Nourishing my body and soul.

I'm thankful I found my cancer six months ago and had the courage to insist on surgery to remove it when two physicians thought it was only a sebaceous cyst! I'm thankful for my doctors and staff at the Cancer Center. I'm thankful to be DONE with chemotherapy! It has made me extremely sick this time around. Making me even more happy I'm done!

I'm glad my oncologists are being proactive and are sending me to Salt Lake City's Huntsman Center for surgery. I have what they believe are two new cancerous lymph nodes. As of right now, I am scheduled to see the surgeon on December 8th and surgery on December 12th. I will be honest, I am scared beyond what words can say about the surgery. Scared the lymph nodes ARE cancerous and aggressive the dose-dense chemo didn't kill them. I'm also afraid to wake up without my breasts. They've been with me my entire life! They nourished my children when they were infants. Nursing Conor and Olivia was so empowering as a mother. After that, they were just a part of me. When I began running more in 2005 they became something of a hindrance than anything. I will miss them. But I am not so attached to them I will let them jeopardize my life.

In the end, I'm thankful I had breasts to feel feminine, motherly, and like a woman. At the end of this journey I will have breasts again. And a t-shirt that says, "Yes, these are fake.
My real breasts tried to kill me."

Finally, I'm thankful to be alive. Breathing in and out, in and out........

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Chemo Complete, but Life Turned Upside Down

Wow, what a day. Yes, I have completed by my eighth and final chemotherapy treatment!!!! I am so thrilled to have made it.

It was actually overshadowed by what happened prior to being hooked up for the infusions. The oncologist visited with Michael and I and explained he was very happy no cancer showed up in the chest CT or MRI. In his words, "that would have been very bad."

I then explained to him I'm still very concerned about the lumps in my axilla because there are very similar in feel to the first tumor/lymph node that was found to be metastatic carcinoma. He then said he is equally concerned. He was going to dismiss me! He wanted to bring in his partner, the radiation oncologist, to get his take on the situation, because that is the next phase.

He came in to visit with Michael and I and palates the two lymph nodes and said he is very concerned. He said this is an unusual presentation and he doesn't trust anything about this cancer. What he wants to see happen, and very quickly, is a referral to a surgeon in Salt Lake City for a consult. I gave him the name of my preference, given to me buy a survivor, and he actually did his residency with him... So possibly a good connection! He wants the lymph nodes removed and biopsies AND a double mastectomy. Both doctors want this to happen once I've had three weeks to recover from my Taxol treatment and the surgery to take place between December 5th and the 15th. They want it expedited because of the aggressiveness of this cancer. That is my preference too.

What it took me a long time to comprehend as I struggled to process this news is that they don't want me to have immediate breast reconstruction. There can often be complications, and
they want to be able to get radiation started one month after that surgery has been completed.
I was hoping instead of getting two new front teeth for Christmas, I would have two cancer free breasts! That is not to be the case. I must now shift my thought process to the reality that it will likely be difficult to be without breasts, and see the resulting scars from the surgery. I'm terrified of what it will look like and how it will challenge my femininity and psyche...but it has to be done to save my life, right? So I will take it in stride and I'm sure eventually accept those scars until reconstruction. It's not like I have a modeling gig on the catwalk anytime soon.

It's yet another prompting by the powers that be to teach me I can be Miss Organized Type A all i want, but circumstances change and I need to relax, take a breathe, and take the new plan in stride. There is a reason for everything and this reason is TO SAVE MY LIFE. I'll take that.
L

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

'Twas the Night Before Chemo

This is my first attempt at poetry in years and years. I'm not promising anything grand. Simple rumblings as I typed along.

'Twas the night before my last chemo,
and all through the house,
The kitties and I were stirring quietyly through the house.

Tomorrow I'll finish the eighth and final chemo,
Much to the beasts dismay.
The cancer cells have been punished,
With caustic chemo cocktails for a lengthy 13 weeks.

I'm anxious and ready to finish the task.
This is the first phase of the treatment.
Next phase,
Radiation daily for at least six weeks.
"X" marks the spots where cancer was found.
Gamma rays will fry the little monsters and I'll happily bid them adieu.

The final phase is to take precautionary measures to ensure my success.
Surgeries, diet, and exercise are my plan,
For an greater prognosis as I was told by the man.

When will I feel myself again?
Notice I didn't say "normal,"
I think cancer creates a different kind of normal for a cancer survivor.

When will I have a full head of hair, and what color will it be? Fuzz has sprouted! Joy!
When can I run again with sweat on my brow? When will my brow show itself again?
I look to the day when energy returns, it left me several weeks ago.

I hoped to go to sleep with visions of remission dancing in my head.
A prescribed steroid has other plans this night; complete sleeplessness.

With a cumulative force; each treatment has become increasingly worse.
I'll likely brave this final round with teary eyes and a body in pain,
silently screaming for relief.

These are the times I live one moment at a time. Nausea, thrush, weakness, fatigue, depression, displacement of food, and misplacement of my mind. Such are the wonders of chemo.

I will endure the last treatment, now in just five short hours.
With hopes the last aggressive cells are targeted and destroyed

I look ahead for happier times.
When cancer isn't the first thing I think of first in the morn.
When fear doesn't paralyze me, but becomes the catalyst to force me to become even stronger.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

MRI and CT Scan Normal!

Finally some good news! The CT of my chest and the MRI of my brain showed no cancer. I am beyond thrilled. I had been so upset thinking it may have spread. I told the nurse today that the newest lump in my axils a has nearly doubled in size since last week. I may tell them that my preference is to get a biopsy on those lumps-to be absolutely positive!

I've shifted my thoughts now to things I'm grateful for and things worth living for. And I have many, MANY things to be grateful for. Right now, I'm grateful for the little fuzz of hair starting to sprout on my head. I feel like a newborn baby. I wonder what color it will be? What texture? It seems very light to me, as on, ahem, gray. That would be fine. Gray hair is beautiful. It would be another badge of my cancer journey!

Our son, Conor, drilled this weekend with his Army Reserves unit and was given an Army Achievement Award. And he was given the news about the unit. They are being deployed in May, 2012. That made my heart skip a beat. I'm very proud of him. I made it through two of Michael's deployments, I can figure out how to make it through Conor's.

So, now, breathing a sigh of relief. I'm more focused on finishing the LAST CHEMO TREATMENT and then six weeks of radiation. Deep breath in....deep breath out......om....namaste.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Chemo Number 7 Completed!

Yes, chemo number seven has been completed.  It was Taxol #3.  The typically appointment goes like this:  I wave at the women at the front desk and head to the chemo suite.  Then, an oncology nurse puts the Power Port gadget on my chest, draws blood, and then I head back to the front waiting room.  

I met with the oncologist today and told him I felt a new lump in my axilla this morning.  Now, I have two.  He said he is very concerned about it.  Tomorrow I go to the hospital to get a CT of my lungs with and without contrast, so my gadgets for the Power Port in my chest so it can be used to put the contrast. Then, on Friday I'm going to have an MRI of my brain.  I've been having headaches again.  And that will be with and without contrast.  

My mind is a scattering of fear and unbelief.  Especially based on my post yesterday - that I've been scared that I may not make it through this.  Cut, paste, and delete.  :)  I'm going to try to go through these three days of tests trying to remain positive and process some of the things Michael and I discussed with the oncologist.  I seem to remember that he said if the chemo didn't work and I have cancer in other areas, that I wouldn't have to do the final treatment.  Michael thought he said they would do it prophylacticaly.  The oncologist said that if it is metastasized to other areas they will look for Phase I and Phase II Clinical Trials.  He mentioned the words "salvage palliative care," and I wrote them down without a full understanding of what it means.  At first I thought it meant they were going to send me home to die, but that's not the case.  I'm still reeling. 

Next, we headed back to the chemo suite.  Michael calls it the "she-mo" suite.  Because I had not received the Neulasta shot last time, my WBC's were lower, but not so low that I could not get chemo today. I was happy for that!  I want to stay strong and get done with all the treatment!  My Dad and Ellen were there during that time and doted on me.  Dad got some photos of me with a new ski cap I got from my friend Lindsey!  It rocks!

So, I received the pre-chemo cocktail and then the nurse started the Taxol infusion.  Within one minute I started having a reaction. I could feel a blue fog in my chest and lungs and it was hard to breathe!!!  I also felt an entire pressure in my head and looked at Ellen and asked her if my head was red and originally it wasn't, and then within in minute or so, it became very red.  My Dad hit the bell and the nurse immediately turned off the Taxol and even used a syringe to get it out of the line in my chest.  My blood pressure, normal at the beginning of my appointment, was up to 144/95 or something alarmingly close to that.  It quickly went down.  They ordered additional Benadryl to infuse into my port and then started it again about 45 minutes later.  I was closely monitored and didn't have another interaction.  Thank goodness!!  With the additional meds in my system, I went right to sleep.  Michael went to do some errands and Dad and Ellen stayed with me.  

So, it ended without any fan fare.  I'm home, now resting, and blogging!  I plan to go to bed early.  I'm anxious about the upcoming tests and pray there is no cancer.