28 November 2008
In a nutshell...
... chemo sucks. I will write about my experience later but for now I just wanted to let everyone know that I survived my first round but I am exhausted and don't feel like myself. I am not sure how I am going to get through 5 months. All I want to do is sleep and eat carbs. mmmm yam biscuits.
25 November 2008
Tomorrow, will there be any sun?
Tomorrow for me will not be the day that lil' orphan Annie sang about. I don't see the sun coming out for me (figuratively and literally). Tomorrow chemo begins. I have no idea what to expect which is very scary for me. I like to plan. I like to anticipate. I can't even buy food at the grocery store because I don't know what I will feel like eating. I can hope that this process will be easy, but no one can predict how my body will react to the chemo drugs.
Today the port was installed in my shoulder area. The site is very sore but I have some decent pain meds. The procedure was fairly simple. We arrived at the hospital this morning at 6am, and was home before 11:30am (and this includes a slight detour to the pharmacy at the grocery store).
The port is only a slight bump. I don't know how long it will remain inside me. The surgeon who put it in would like ports to remain for 2 years as a precaution (AKA just in case I need more chemo). The oncologist will tell me it can be removed in 5 months. I don't know if it will need to be removed when I have my reconstructive surgery but that is months away so I am not going to worry about the removal process at this time.
The site of the port is slightly swollen (possibly due to my juicy fluids -- Jonathan, I thought of you when the swollen site was pointed out to me). The most exciting part for me was being told that I could take a shower later today. Thank goodness for the little things.
Today the port was installed in my shoulder area. The site is very sore but I have some decent pain meds. The procedure was fairly simple. We arrived at the hospital this morning at 6am, and was home before 11:30am (and this includes a slight detour to the pharmacy at the grocery store).
The port is only a slight bump. I don't know how long it will remain inside me. The surgeon who put it in would like ports to remain for 2 years as a precaution (AKA just in case I need more chemo). The oncologist will tell me it can be removed in 5 months. I don't know if it will need to be removed when I have my reconstructive surgery but that is months away so I am not going to worry about the removal process at this time.
The site of the port is slightly swollen (possibly due to my juicy fluids -- Jonathan, I thought of you when the swollen site was pointed out to me). The most exciting part for me was being told that I could take a shower later today. Thank goodness for the little things.
19 November 2008
Radioactive (wo)man
Today snapshots were taken of my heart. The process used to take the pictures is called Muga. In a nutshell, I had some blood drawn. My blood is mixed with radioactive materials (for about 25 minutes), and then injected back into me. Finally, I laid down on a machine with a special camera, and pictures were taken of my heart. The best part of the procedure was not needing to wear a hospital gown. I was able to wear my clothes, I didn't even have to take off my shoes.
Why the pictures? Because one of the chemo drugs, Adriamycin, may cause heart problems. These pictures of my heart will let the doctor see if my heart is currently healthy; and then if so, be the baseline image of my heart for the doctors to refer as I proceed through chemo. I will need to probably go through this process at least 2 more times.
As I left the hospital, the technician handed me a card and told me that I am radioactive for 2 more days. If I were to need to go through a security machine during that time, this card would be for the guards to know that I am just radioactive and not carrying any weapons. I really want to go through a security line right now, but I have no reason to do so. Oh well...
Why the pictures? Because one of the chemo drugs, Adriamycin, may cause heart problems. These pictures of my heart will let the doctor see if my heart is currently healthy; and then if so, be the baseline image of my heart for the doctors to refer as I proceed through chemo. I will need to probably go through this process at least 2 more times.
As I left the hospital, the technician handed me a card and told me that I am radioactive for 2 more days. If I were to need to go through a security machine during that time, this card would be for the guards to know that I am just radioactive and not carrying any weapons. I really want to go through a security line right now, but I have no reason to do so. Oh well...
18 November 2008
Chemo on the books
My appointment yesterday went well. My adjuvant therapy will be scheduled at the local cancer clinic. Considering that we had snow yesterday, I am pleased with my decision. The thought of traveling to Columbus bi-weekly, and then weekly, during the worst driving months of the year was not appealing, not that I would be the driver.
Tamoxifen is off the table for now. I first told the breast navigator that I didn't want to take it. By the time it came up in conversation with the doctor, he explained that we could discuss it again later on, and that it is not a requirement. During the winter months, I'll get the test to find out if I am carrier of the BRCA genes. You can get this test will undergoing chemo treatments. If I am carrier of the gene, new decisions on preventative health measures and procedures will need to be made.
The doctor had also taken my fertility concerns seriously, and had even scheduled an appointment for me at a fertility clinic in Columbus. But since Brandon and I had been through the fertility discussion (re: egg storage) after conversations the Cleveland hospital, we had already decided to take our chances. Infertility treatments can be brutal on the body, and to start now would delay chemo even further. Plus we may already be infertile and not even know it. When the time comes to start our own family (with more than just us and the cats), we will see what happens. And adoption is always an option.
My chemo regimen is tentatively scheduled to begin next Wednesday (the day before Thanksgiving). The schedule is dependent upon the port installation which will hopefully happen on Tuesday, but it can't be scheduled until I meet with the surgeon on Monday morning. I don't know why it can't be scheduled beforehand, but the surgeon likes to discuss the procedure with her patients before scheduling it. I understand what is entailed with the procedure, and even if I didn't, it's not like the surgeon is going to say something to me that is going to change my mind. Stupid responsible medical professionals wanting to discuss everything with me beforehand.
While I am not excited to start chemo, I am reassured to have it scheduled which means that I also have an end date in sight. And I don't totally dislike my doctor -- that's good, right?
Tamoxifen is off the table for now. I first told the breast navigator that I didn't want to take it. By the time it came up in conversation with the doctor, he explained that we could discuss it again later on, and that it is not a requirement. During the winter months, I'll get the test to find out if I am carrier of the BRCA genes. You can get this test will undergoing chemo treatments. If I am carrier of the gene, new decisions on preventative health measures and procedures will need to be made.
The doctor had also taken my fertility concerns seriously, and had even scheduled an appointment for me at a fertility clinic in Columbus. But since Brandon and I had been through the fertility discussion (re: egg storage) after conversations the Cleveland hospital, we had already decided to take our chances. Infertility treatments can be brutal on the body, and to start now would delay chemo even further. Plus we may already be infertile and not even know it. When the time comes to start our own family (with more than just us and the cats), we will see what happens. And adoption is always an option.
My chemo regimen is tentatively scheduled to begin next Wednesday (the day before Thanksgiving). The schedule is dependent upon the port installation which will hopefully happen on Tuesday, but it can't be scheduled until I meet with the surgeon on Monday morning. I don't know why it can't be scheduled beforehand, but the surgeon likes to discuss the procedure with her patients before scheduling it. I understand what is entailed with the procedure, and even if I didn't, it's not like the surgeon is going to say something to me that is going to change my mind. Stupid responsible medical professionals wanting to discuss everything with me beforehand.
While I am not excited to start chemo, I am reassured to have it scheduled which means that I also have an end date in sight. And I don't totally dislike my doctor -- that's good, right?
16 November 2008
Ports of Call
Tomorrow I have my appointment with the local oncologist. This appointment will determine if I am healthy enough to begin chemotherapy. Hopefully allergies will not be a determinant because mine have been out of control all weekend. My nose will not stop running. Sneezing is fairly common as well.
Tomorrow's doctor is the one who wants me to take Tamoxifen. I do not want to take Tamoxifen. The other doctors I have seen have not recommended it is a course of action. My plan tomorrow is to inform the doctor that I will not be taking Tamoxifen. If he resists my plan, and tells me it is either his entire plan or nothing, I'll walk. I've already got another doctor lined up, waiting in the wings.
My decision to go with the local doctor came down to simple travel logistics. The thought of traveling to Columbus on a regular basis is unappealing for a variety of reasons: not sure how I'll feel during treatment, wear & tear on car, winter is approaching... Plus the chemo plan is the same (if I exclude mentioning the Tamoxifen, the clinical trial, and the ovarian freezing drugs).
Tomorrow is also an opportunity for the doctor to make a better impression on me. I guess you could say that I'm giving him a second chance. I really don't want to not like the doctor I'll be seeing regularly for 5 months. Luckily for me, the nurses in his office are very nice. All of my interactions with them have been very pleasant and informative.
If all goes according to plan, sometime in the next week or so, I will have a port surgically implanted in me. The port allows the chemo drugs easier access to my body. While not everyone gets a port, it is quite common. My veins are small, so a port is necessary otherwise the chemo drugs, if they were to come in contact with my skin, would burn me. I question the wisdom of putting drugs like that in my body, but I've been told it is for the greater good of my health. hmmmm...
After the port is installed, I don't know now long I have to wait to begin chemo. I hope soon. I just want it to be over.
Tomorrow's doctor is the one who wants me to take Tamoxifen. I do not want to take Tamoxifen. The other doctors I have seen have not recommended it is a course of action. My plan tomorrow is to inform the doctor that I will not be taking Tamoxifen. If he resists my plan, and tells me it is either his entire plan or nothing, I'll walk. I've already got another doctor lined up, waiting in the wings.
My decision to go with the local doctor came down to simple travel logistics. The thought of traveling to Columbus on a regular basis is unappealing for a variety of reasons: not sure how I'll feel during treatment, wear & tear on car, winter is approaching... Plus the chemo plan is the same (if I exclude mentioning the Tamoxifen, the clinical trial, and the ovarian freezing drugs).
Tomorrow is also an opportunity for the doctor to make a better impression on me. I guess you could say that I'm giving him a second chance. I really don't want to not like the doctor I'll be seeing regularly for 5 months. Luckily for me, the nurses in his office are very nice. All of my interactions with them have been very pleasant and informative.
If all goes according to plan, sometime in the next week or so, I will have a port surgically implanted in me. The port allows the chemo drugs easier access to my body. While not everyone gets a port, it is quite common. My veins are small, so a port is necessary otherwise the chemo drugs, if they were to come in contact with my skin, would burn me. I question the wisdom of putting drugs like that in my body, but I've been told it is for the greater good of my health. hmmmm...
After the port is installed, I don't know now long I have to wait to begin chemo. I hope soon. I just want it to be over.
14 November 2008
How to Shock a Customs Official
In the month since my last posting, I got married and went to the Caribbean for 2 weeks. The wedding was wonderful and the trip to St. Vincent and the Grenadines/Barbados was amazing. The stress of planning a wedding went away. I got sun burnt and drank plenty o' rum from a bevy of drink selections. I relaxed on the patio of our cottage enjoying the view of our garden and the sailboats in the bay. Hopefully we will return soon.
Before, during and the weeks immediately following the surgery, Brandon and I had put the honeymoon planning on hold as we were unsure about how I would feel and didn't have any details on the possibility of adjuvant therapy. Luckily all the doctors said it would be ok to go away. My full range of my arm's motions returned almost in full about 6 weeks after surgery. After we got the go-ahead from the doctors, we planned our trip at the last minute. Luckily the cottage in Bequai was still available and we were able to get a few hotel deals for the days in St. Vincent and Barbados.
My energy and strength were not at pre-surgery levels but in general I will say that I'm in good health. When we climbed the volcano in St. Vincent, it took me 2 1/2 hours rather than the predicted 1 3/4 hours. When we went snorkeling in the Tobago Cays, my arm became sore and tires more quickly than it usually does when I'm swimming. But I was still able to participate in these activities, and to me, that is the most important thing of all. Otherwise, I wouldn't have seen the clouds move away from the center of the volcano to see all the way inside or the turtle swimming the coral reef -- two of my favorite moments of the vacation.
I do have another favorite moment of the vacation that I will share. I have 2 prosthetic breasts. One breast is all cotton (the softie) which I've been using for about a month now (mastectomy patients need to wait about 8 weeks before using a true breast prosthesis). The other breast is silicone and very heavy. I don't wear it very often because of the weight, and I have only recently reached the 8 week mark (although I was given the ok to start wearing it at 6 weeks -- I must be a quick healer!). During the vacation I stored the silicone boob in its carrying case, a medium-sized blue vinyl box. I never placed the blue box in my checked bag on the airplane because I didn't want it to get lost and because it would have taken up a lot of room. So when traveling, the box was always in my carry-on bag.
At the Barbados airport customs area, for reasons unknown to us, the "I have nothing to declare" line was closed, and all passengers were required to go through the "I have something to declare" line. When it was our turn, the official questioned us about the food we might be bringing. We told her we had no food. She began to rummage through my carry-on bag, and she came upon the the zipped up blue vinyl box. She asked, "What is this?" and began to fiddle with the zipper. I responded, "I had a mastectomy 2 months ago, and that is my fake boob." She immediately halted, took a second, looked at me and said, "You're done. Go on."
In no way can I fully express the humor and bizarreness of that moment, but it was one of the most amusing moments of the trip for me. It still makes me smile.
Before, during and the weeks immediately following the surgery, Brandon and I had put the honeymoon planning on hold as we were unsure about how I would feel and didn't have any details on the possibility of adjuvant therapy. Luckily all the doctors said it would be ok to go away. My full range of my arm's motions returned almost in full about 6 weeks after surgery. After we got the go-ahead from the doctors, we planned our trip at the last minute. Luckily the cottage in Bequai was still available and we were able to get a few hotel deals for the days in St. Vincent and Barbados.
My energy and strength were not at pre-surgery levels but in general I will say that I'm in good health. When we climbed the volcano in St. Vincent, it took me 2 1/2 hours rather than the predicted 1 3/4 hours. When we went snorkeling in the Tobago Cays, my arm became sore and tires more quickly than it usually does when I'm swimming. But I was still able to participate in these activities, and to me, that is the most important thing of all. Otherwise, I wouldn't have seen the clouds move away from the center of the volcano to see all the way inside or the turtle swimming the coral reef -- two of my favorite moments of the vacation.
I do have another favorite moment of the vacation that I will share. I have 2 prosthetic breasts. One breast is all cotton (the softie) which I've been using for about a month now (mastectomy patients need to wait about 8 weeks before using a true breast prosthesis). The other breast is silicone and very heavy. I don't wear it very often because of the weight, and I have only recently reached the 8 week mark (although I was given the ok to start wearing it at 6 weeks -- I must be a quick healer!). During the vacation I stored the silicone boob in its carrying case, a medium-sized blue vinyl box. I never placed the blue box in my checked bag on the airplane because I didn't want it to get lost and because it would have taken up a lot of room. So when traveling, the box was always in my carry-on bag.
At the Barbados airport customs area, for reasons unknown to us, the "I have nothing to declare" line was closed, and all passengers were required to go through the "I have something to declare" line. When it was our turn, the official questioned us about the food we might be bringing. We told her we had no food. She began to rummage through my carry-on bag, and she came upon the the zipped up blue vinyl box. She asked, "What is this?" and began to fiddle with the zipper. I responded, "I had a mastectomy 2 months ago, and that is my fake boob." She immediately halted, took a second, looked at me and said, "You're done. Go on."
In no way can I fully express the humor and bizarreness of that moment, but it was one of the most amusing moments of the trip for me. It still makes me smile.
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