Well, the first 3-5 day window has come and gone. And while it wasn't near as bad as some of my fears, it wasn't a non-event either.
Thursday - Day 1 post treatment: Fine. Normal.
Friday - Day 2 p.t.: Feeling OK, but tired and cranky. Did I mention that I started my period today? Guess I can't blame PMS and cramps on chemo. But by Friday afternoon, I was exhausted. Not that I had done any more than my usual running around during the day with work and the kids - but I was exhausted!
Saturday - Day 3 p.t.: FOGGY!!! Talk about moving about in a dream. I could barely focus long enough to do a load of laundry. (Actually, I put one of Kinsey's sequined dress-up shawls into the laundry and everything - even Kevin's boxers - came out with sequins. Glad he's got a good attitude!)
I felt like I had a light buzz - and a hang over - all at the same time. I put on some jeans, took 1 step toward the bed, saw some sweat pants, took off the jeans and put on the sweats, turned again, and couldn't figure out what to do with the jeans I was holding. Nothing was making sense in my brain and actually, once I got out on the road to run an errand - I really thought about going back home because making clear fast decisions was not happening. I did decide not to drive the kids around that day at all. There was much napping and just sitting on Saturday.
Sunday - Day 4 p.t.: Hang over continues - head ache, nausea. But the fog had lifted some. After lunch time, I finally took an anti-nausea pill and had a nap. Those 2 things helped a lot. By dinner, I was almost hungry and ate like a normal person. By bed time, I just had some lingering mild nausea/ heartburn and thumpy head.
Monday - Day 5 p.t.: I woke up like a new person this morning. I felt good enough to shower and hop off to school to help Kinsey's class with a cool project. I'm still more tired than I would be normally with only a trace of nausea, but overall feel fine.
We've all heard about and/or witnessed people that feel horrible during chemo. I've also talked to many who said it wasn't that bad for them. And I've even heard stories of people getting lulled into thinking chemo isn't really that bad until the 2nd or 3rd treatment when it has started to build up in their systems.
Who knows which way this road trip will take me over the next few months. For today, I'm doing well, the sun is shining, I still have my hair, my husband is a love and a big help around the house, my kids are healthy and I have a ton of great support from family and friends. Could I really ask for much more?
Monday, February 25, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
In the chemo chair
Ok - I'm sitting in the chemo chair for the first time. I've had the first 2 of the 3 drips and all is well. Those were the 2 that they worry about allergic reactions with - but I am fine so far.
Everyone around here has been super nice. One man who brought his father in for treatment, had a box of cranberry muffins that his mother had made and was passing them around. Being that we had "Muffins For Mom" this morning at school, I was already muffined out.
And I've never been able to hold pee for a long time, especially after 2 kids. But, as Murphy's Law would have it, today, since I'm hooked up to a drip for several hours, my bladder has decided that it needs to be emptied more often than usual. This is a side effect that I think was saved just for me.
Several others sitting near me, who are at the end of their treatments, have offered helpful tips and tricks. Such as, there is a lovely enzime that comes in yogurt, can be purchased at any drug store in pill form, and will quickly end the enivitable stomach cramps.
So I've been told - I will start to feel sick in 3-5 days - but how sick will be up to my body. I certainly don't look forward to being sick, but maybe just 15 pounds sick would be OK.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Happy Birthday to Me! Happy Birthday to Monica!
Yes, today is my birthday. At 2:38pm (or thereabouts) I will be officially 39 years old. It is currently 8 am in the morning and I have already received several special gifts this morning.
Both of my kids gave me big hugs and kisses - one sang the birthday song to me - the other criticized my wording when forced to sing it to myself --- I'll leave it up to your imagination to pick which child did which.
Remember that other famous song that says "sugar makes the medicine go down in a most delightful way"? Well, evidentially, Dexamethason makes the chemo go down with less chance of an allergic reaction. So I just had my first dose with my morning coffee. The real ride is about to start. Yeah!
But, the most surprising gift of all should have come with a Surgeon General's Warning:
How much wine did we drink? Well, no one remembered to get the champagne to drink, or perhaps to make a toast with. And, as I crawled into bed in the wee hours of Sunday, lights out and trying to get warm under the covers - I remembered something about a bottle in the freezer. I dragged myself out of bed to come check on it - couldn't find it - thought "oh well" and went back to bed.
Follow me back to the present - 2 days after the party...
I am making a grocery list and go into the freezer to check on the quantity of frozen waffles and notice a small, frozen puddle of an almost clear liquid substance on something near the bottom. "THE CHAMPAGNE" hits my brain. (A rare moment of clarity without a full cup of coffee.) I dig and sure enough, there it is, just waiting to be rescued.
I pull it out and sit it on the kitchen counter while I finish my breakfast and list. But I start hearing this odd hissing noise. Nope, not the lawn guys next door, it's coming from the champagne bottle. The cap has released a bit and the contents would really like to get out. (Which should have been obvious after finding the puddle - but remember - not a full cup of coffee yet.) So I casually go over to the bottle and put it into the sink. Then, I remember how Kevin has taught me to open a champagne cork. 'They like to fly so hold tight and you can pull it out with a small pop and you don't break windows.' I must say, that part went well.
What I didn't expect was that the actual champagne smoothie would come exploding out like the frozen version of Mount Saint Helens! Have you ever seen a crime scene wall with mega blood splattered and dripping down? Turn that into my kitchen window and frozen champagne. Quite the early morning surprise!
So, Happy Birthday Monica - thanks for the gift. It won't be this year - it may not be next year - but some Feb. 19th in the future - I will get you back :)
Both of my kids gave me big hugs and kisses - one sang the birthday song to me - the other criticized my wording when forced to sing it to myself --- I'll leave it up to your imagination to pick which child did which.
Remember that other famous song that says "sugar makes the medicine go down in a most delightful way"? Well, evidentially, Dexamethason makes the chemo go down with less chance of an allergic reaction. So I just had my first dose with my morning coffee. The real ride is about to start. Yeah!
But, the most surprising gift of all should have come with a Surgeon General's Warning:
Beware: Contents under pressure - and when partially frozen - become even more unstable!This past Saturday night, a few friends gathered here to hang out, eat ribs, drink (a lot - mostly thanks to Judy) of wine and celebrate that Monica and I would be gaining a year of living today. Monica and her hubby, Shawn, were nice enough to bring a bottle of champagne. Unfortunately, it went into the freezer to chill down faster... and it stayed there.
How much wine did we drink? Well, no one remembered to get the champagne to drink, or perhaps to make a toast with. And, as I crawled into bed in the wee hours of Sunday, lights out and trying to get warm under the covers - I remembered something about a bottle in the freezer. I dragged myself out of bed to come check on it - couldn't find it - thought "oh well" and went back to bed.
Follow me back to the present - 2 days after the party...
I am making a grocery list and go into the freezer to check on the quantity of frozen waffles and notice a small, frozen puddle of an almost clear liquid substance on something near the bottom. "THE CHAMPAGNE" hits my brain. (A rare moment of clarity without a full cup of coffee.) I dig and sure enough, there it is, just waiting to be rescued.
I pull it out and sit it on the kitchen counter while I finish my breakfast and list. But I start hearing this odd hissing noise. Nope, not the lawn guys next door, it's coming from the champagne bottle. The cap has released a bit and the contents would really like to get out. (Which should have been obvious after finding the puddle - but remember - not a full cup of coffee yet.) So I casually go over to the bottle and put it into the sink. Then, I remember how Kevin has taught me to open a champagne cork. 'They like to fly so hold tight and you can pull it out with a small pop and you don't break windows.' I must say, that part went well.
What I didn't expect was that the actual champagne smoothie would come exploding out like the frozen version of Mount Saint Helens! Have you ever seen a crime scene wall with mega blood splattered and dripping down? Turn that into my kitchen window and frozen champagne. Quite the early morning surprise!
So, Happy Birthday Monica - thanks for the gift. It won't be this year - it may not be next year - but some Feb. 19th in the future - I will get you back :)
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Who wants a cocktail?
I talked to my doctor today. It is settled. I am taking the chemo "cocktail" that is not quite as bad for you long term, but seems to do just as good of a job eradicating cancer from the system as the current/previous regimen widely used.
I wanted to wait until after Valentine's Day, President's Day (the girls are out of school) and my birthday (the 19th) before I started my treatments. It seemed like the thing to do a couple of weeks ago. Now, the waiting seems to drag on.
However, I remember asking the nurse if it was OK to start treatments the morning after my birthday. I was talking big about having my last "who-rah!" before treatments. This isn't a direct quote - but the feeling I got from her response was:
I didn't quite get it then, but the closer I get to the 20th, (dragging or not) the more these last few days of feeling good, and eating and drinking, are starting to mean.
My good friend Judy is making a birthday cake for me. She is one of the best amateur dessert chefs I know. (No pressure Judy!) And while I've naturally started to wean off the food and drink (mostly due to the fact that I can barely fit in my jeans), I'm having a hard time justifying a controlled attitude for the upcoming week.
My instinct screams "Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez" - - - but then my mind butts in to remind me, the alarm is still going off at 6:15 am to get the kids to school on time.
Maybe that's what they mean by "life goes on".
I wanted to wait until after Valentine's Day, President's Day (the girls are out of school) and my birthday (the 19th) before I started my treatments. It seemed like the thing to do a couple of weeks ago. Now, the waiting seems to drag on.
However, I remember asking the nurse if it was OK to start treatments the morning after my birthday. I was talking big about having my last "who-rah!" before treatments. This isn't a direct quote - but the feeling I got from her response was:
'Honey, we're gonna spend 4 hours pumping 3 different types of poison directly into your blood stream that morning. Whether you go out drinking the night before or not won't mean a hill of beans.'
I didn't quite get it then, but the closer I get to the 20th, (dragging or not) the more these last few days of feeling good, and eating and drinking, are starting to mean.
My good friend Judy is making a birthday cake for me. She is one of the best amateur dessert chefs I know. (No pressure Judy!) And while I've naturally started to wean off the food and drink (mostly due to the fact that I can barely fit in my jeans), I'm having a hard time justifying a controlled attitude for the upcoming week.
My instinct screams "Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez" - - - but then my mind butts in to remind me, the alarm is still going off at 6:15 am to get the kids to school on time.
Maybe that's what they mean by "life goes on".
Thursday, February 7, 2008
I'm gonna live!
Going to NY to get our second opinion was a good idea. The people at Sloan couldn't have been nicer. (I'm sure it helps that they've known my sister for 12 years.)And Dr. Seidman basically echoed every discussion we've had with my oncologist here in Atlanta, Dr. Mininberg.
(I've had an insider tell me that Dr. Mininberg has a great instinct about treatments, and usually his instincts prove correct in the end. We like to hear that. While most of this is medical knowledge, training and following research - it also appears that there is a good dose of instinct thrown into the mix - and that is something that can't be taught. As Kevin said, "Anyone can learn the keys of the piano and play songs - but that won't make you Chopin. That you have to be born with.")
Both doctors agree that I should take Herceptin - which is a very targeted drug for my type of tumors. There are 2 different chemotherapy regimens that are both valid choices for my situation. One doctor leans a bit toward one regimen - and the other leans a bit towards the other. So now we are working to weigh the pros and cons of each and make a decision that we feel good about. One treatment is a bit more proven, but it is more harsh on the body and may have some lingering heart implications.
The best thing is that now, both doctors, have stated that my chance of breast cancer recurrence is very low - under 20%. And once we pile on Herceptin and chemotherapy, the chances drop even lower - possibly to under 10%. (Here again is where the intuition plays a big part.)
My long term outcome looks great! I actually danced a little jig outside the building on Monday - then went directly for a beer. (Karen thinks they should have a camera outside the building to capture the range of emotions and reactions of people when they come out. Some people are devastated, some are elated - and a whole lot of in-betweens. With the crap reality shows of today's tv schedule, I say we pitch it! Maybe we can get Jerry Seinfeld to commentate.)
Despite the stress of what's coming at us in 2008, Kevin and I are now sleeping a bit better.
(I've had an insider tell me that Dr. Mininberg has a great instinct about treatments, and usually his instincts prove correct in the end. We like to hear that. While most of this is medical knowledge, training and following research - it also appears that there is a good dose of instinct thrown into the mix - and that is something that can't be taught. As Kevin said, "Anyone can learn the keys of the piano and play songs - but that won't make you Chopin. That you have to be born with.")
Both doctors agree that I should take Herceptin - which is a very targeted drug for my type of tumors. There are 2 different chemotherapy regimens that are both valid choices for my situation. One doctor leans a bit toward one regimen - and the other leans a bit towards the other. So now we are working to weigh the pros and cons of each and make a decision that we feel good about. One treatment is a bit more proven, but it is more harsh on the body and may have some lingering heart implications.
The best thing is that now, both doctors, have stated that my chance of breast cancer recurrence is very low - under 20%. And once we pile on Herceptin and chemotherapy, the chances drop even lower - possibly to under 10%. (Here again is where the intuition plays a big part.)
My long term outcome looks great! I actually danced a little jig outside the building on Monday - then went directly for a beer. (Karen thinks they should have a camera outside the building to capture the range of emotions and reactions of people when they come out. Some people are devastated, some are elated - and a whole lot of in-betweens. With the crap reality shows of today's tv schedule, I say we pitch it! Maybe we can get Jerry Seinfeld to commentate.)
Despite the stress of what's coming at us in 2008, Kevin and I are now sleeping a bit better.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
The nerves are starting to win
I'm sitting in Kevin's cousin's house on Long Island. Tomorrow, we go into NY and see Dr. Seidman. I'm crazy nervous. What's the expression? "Nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs..." That's me.
This is an important trip - tomorrow is an important meeting - and I feel under-prepared. It is crazy to feel like that, but I do. We've been reading - we've been organizing our questions. But what if we have missed something? We have 1 shot at a discussion with this doctor. I feel like I'm back at school, the night before a big exam. Am I really prepared?
And maybe I'm making my self crazy for nothing. So what if I think of another 3 questions on Wednesday. I will just ask my doctor at home. That will be fine. I like Dr. Mininberg and trust his answers also.
I don't know. The more I read and reasearch, the more overwhelmed and nervous I get. And certainly, each day, as the first of the chemotherapy treatments get closer, I get more and more nervous. I use the wrong words for things, I can't spell anymore and am just generally distracted and foggy in my head.
Oh well. It is what it is. I'm going into the other room to drink a few beers and watch the SuperBowl. Maybe that will help pass a few hours.
This is an important trip - tomorrow is an important meeting - and I feel under-prepared. It is crazy to feel like that, but I do. We've been reading - we've been organizing our questions. But what if we have missed something? We have 1 shot at a discussion with this doctor. I feel like I'm back at school, the night before a big exam. Am I really prepared?
And maybe I'm making my self crazy for nothing. So what if I think of another 3 questions on Wednesday. I will just ask my doctor at home. That will be fine. I like Dr. Mininberg and trust his answers also.
I don't know. The more I read and reasearch, the more overwhelmed and nervous I get. And certainly, each day, as the first of the chemotherapy treatments get closer, I get more and more nervous. I use the wrong words for things, I can't spell anymore and am just generally distracted and foggy in my head.
Oh well. It is what it is. I'm going into the other room to drink a few beers and watch the SuperBowl. Maybe that will help pass a few hours.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Head Wraps & Bandanas
It is amazing the vast array of head wraps and bandanas available for order off of the internet. I have found everything from what makes me look like a pilgrim to extremely offensive prints. Here are a few of my favorites, that I did NOT order.
Of course, in the world of customizations, I can even get my very own "arf is bald" bandana. I'm taking suggestions for the best tag line and/or graphic for a custom bandana :)
Of course, in the world of customizations, I can even get my very own "arf is bald" bandana. I'm taking suggestions for the best tag line and/or graphic for a custom bandana :)
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