My friend Alex reminded me this morning about the latest in horrifying breast cancer awareness campaigns: KFC's Buckets for the Cure, so I just had to share it with you. For every pink bucket of chicken a consumer purchases, KFC will donate 50 cents to Komen. You can promote for them via your Facebook page (I think not) or submit you personal breast cancer story to their website (again I think not). The web page is very pink. It makes me feel kind of nauseous.
While buckets of chicken don't quite scream breast cancer to me, it could never replace the target pistol in my heart as the oddest breast cancer awareness/fundraiser promotion.
P.S. The personal irony of the chicken campaign for breast cancer for me is, since chemo, I no longer eat much chicken. One time during a chemo session, I ate a chicken ceasar salad, and I haven't been same about chicken ever since.
Showing posts with label chemo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chemo. Show all posts
16 April 2010
04 February 2010
Fuzzy Brain
Recently a thought occurred to me: the popular children's rhyme about Fuzzy Wuzzy is a metaphor for chemo. Hair loss is only one of many side effects. A fuzzy or muddled brain is another. At times I wonder if my short term memory is gone forever. Sometimes when participating in a simple conversation, I will forget my thought. I often can’t remember what was said minutes before (by me or my conversational partner). Even as I write this blog entry, I am forgetting my thoughts mid-sentence and then sit at the computer waiting for the thought to return.
Now I know what you are thinking. You think “I forget things.” True. You probably do. Before chemo, I too would forget what item I sought in the living room or my truly brilliant reply within a conversation. But this sense of forgetfulness is a constant presence, whether I am at work or at play. At times, I worry that I’m forgetting something really important. In fact, right now, I know I had a “bigger picture” point to make in this blog entry but sadly it is escaping me at the moment.
Now I know what you are thinking. You think “I forget things.” True. You probably do. Before chemo, I too would forget what item I sought in the living room or my truly brilliant reply within a conversation. But this sense of forgetfulness is a constant presence, whether I am at work or at play. At times, I worry that I’m forgetting something really important. In fact, right now, I know I had a “bigger picture” point to make in this blog entry but sadly it is escaping me at the moment.
24 January 2010
Hair Again
Last weekend I traveled to Boston for a librarian conference. It was my first trip since my surgery in October (we didn't travel anywhere for the holidays because of a multi-week bout of bronchitis). My energy levels were surprisingly high, although on my return home, I basically collapsed and spent several days recovering from exhaustion. The conference was a wonderful opportunity to see close friends and professional colleagues from around the country, and to be in a large city.
Since Brandon and I didn't travel for the holidays, for the past couple of months, basically the only people we've seen are coworkers and my team of medical professionals. Since I hadn't seen many people in a long time (rural Ohio is shockingly not high on many people's destination lists), the conference was the big debut of my new curly hair. My hair is curly. Every day it gets curlier and curlier.
Now I don't want to sound rude or unpleasant, but it really difficult for me to accept compliments on my hair. I hear that it looks good, but it really hard for me to politely respond to compliments on a hair style that I didn't want. For those who don't know, curls are a side effect of chemo. How would you like a daily reminder of a horrible time period of your life? And then for people to compliment you on it?
I know that most people don't know curly hair is a side effect of chemo. I can say thank you to your compliments, but don't push me to explain why. My anger and sadness at the cancer diagnosis are still simmering just below the surface, and if you pester me to tell you why my hair is curly, I may just go ape shit on you. Don't say I didn't warn you. I see your face when you pester me for a further explanation, and I say that it is a side effect of chemo. You didn't want to hear that did you?
As my hair continues to curl, I've mulled over an appropriate response to queries, seeking an answer which says says I didn't ask for this style and stop asking me about it. While in Boston, an answer came to me, "I call it my $100,000 perm." Ha!
Since Brandon and I didn't travel for the holidays, for the past couple of months, basically the only people we've seen are coworkers and my team of medical professionals. Since I hadn't seen many people in a long time (rural Ohio is shockingly not high on many people's destination lists), the conference was the big debut of my new curly hair. My hair is curly. Every day it gets curlier and curlier.
Now I don't want to sound rude or unpleasant, but it really difficult for me to accept compliments on my hair. I hear that it looks good, but it really hard for me to politely respond to compliments on a hair style that I didn't want. For those who don't know, curls are a side effect of chemo. How would you like a daily reminder of a horrible time period of your life? And then for people to compliment you on it?
I know that most people don't know curly hair is a side effect of chemo. I can say thank you to your compliments, but don't push me to explain why. My anger and sadness at the cancer diagnosis are still simmering just below the surface, and if you pester me to tell you why my hair is curly, I may just go ape shit on you. Don't say I didn't warn you. I see your face when you pester me for a further explanation, and I say that it is a side effect of chemo. You didn't want to hear that did you?
As my hair continues to curl, I've mulled over an appropriate response to queries, seeking an answer which says says I didn't ask for this style and stop asking me about it. While in Boston, an answer came to me, "I call it my $100,000 perm." Ha!
21 January 2010
Chemo Flashback
What is the number one signal to the world that someone is undergoing chemotherapy? Hair loss, right? Well, did you ever stop to think that chemo patients lose more than just the hair on top of their head? Think about... Chemo patients lose all types of body hair from all areas of the body. Leg hair loss... great! Arm hair loss... not so great, but not a big deal. Nose hair loss... didn't think of that one, did you?
One of the worst aspects of chemo is losing nose hair. Definitely not a worrisome concern. The nurses don't even mention nose hair loss to you when they go over the potential side effects with you. But all of sudden your nose has no control of the snot in your head. The experience is horrid. A runny nose takes on a whole new meaning.
So today, my sinuses decided to act up. Not sure why, just something in the air. But my nose will not stop running. The snot goes from 0 to 60 in no time flat. I guess not all of my nose hairs grew back.
One of the worst aspects of chemo is losing nose hair. Definitely not a worrisome concern. The nurses don't even mention nose hair loss to you when they go over the potential side effects with you. But all of sudden your nose has no control of the snot in your head. The experience is horrid. A runny nose takes on a whole new meaning.
So today, my sinuses decided to act up. Not sure why, just something in the air. But my nose will not stop running. The snot goes from 0 to 60 in no time flat. I guess not all of my nose hairs grew back.
08 December 2009
Hair Update
When I first met the bevy of oncologists while deciding which chemo program would be best for me, each doctor informed that one side effect of chemo is curly hair. Since hair loss is almost inevitable, hair growth is also inevitable. What the doctors and nurses told me is that when hair returns, it grows in curly. They also tried to imply that curly hair is a good thing. Maybe for some people, but not for me. Each time a doctor would mention the curly regrown hair, I would give them the best death stare I could muster up.
My hair has slowly been regrowing since March. By summertime, I was able to go wig-free. My hair was growing in straight. I got cocky. Let me warn you, never get cocky. It will always be your downfall. Well, at the very least, it is my downfall.
My hair is curly now. The words that I want to say right now are inappropriate for an online forum. Let's just say, I'm not very happy about the curly hair. Maybe it will grow on me.
My hair has slowly been regrowing since March. By summertime, I was able to go wig-free. My hair was growing in straight. I got cocky. Let me warn you, never get cocky. It will always be your downfall. Well, at the very least, it is my downfall.
My hair is curly now. The words that I want to say right now are inappropriate for an online forum. Let's just say, I'm not very happy about the curly hair. Maybe it will grow on me.
25 November 2009
Turkey Time
Like an ominous and looming cloud, just like the ones in today's central Ohio sky, I knew this day was coming but it wasn't until noon-time that I realized today was the day. Last year, on the day before Thanksgiving, I had my first chemo session. Wow! I can't believe it has been one year.
During the fourth week of November, Americans typically like discuss thankfulness. In regards to chemo, there isn't much to be thankful. The experience sucks - there is really no other way to describe it. But if I had to say what I am thankful for in regards to chemo, I do have a few thoughts.
I am relieved that despite feeling nauseous at times, I never vomited. My wig wasn't horrible, and many people just assumed I had a slightly bad haircut (and some even complimented me on my new style). And I must recognize the the chemo nurses who made each chemo treatment session bearable, and sometimes, even slightly entertaining.
But in regards to true thankfulness, I am most thankful for my awesome husband, who I'm sure had his moments of frustration or anger, but never let me see them. I could not have survived those 5-months of chemo (or any of the many cancer-related surgeries, doctor's visits, psychological meltdowns, etc... throughout the entire cancer ordeal) without him and his unrelenting and unwavering support. Thank you. I love you.
As I not-so-fondly remember the chemo experience, I can smile and say, also thankfully, that the best part is now -- being finished, and have been finished for over six months. The port was removed last month. No more toxic chemicals flowing through my veins. Phew!
P.S. I can't forget to thank Betsy, who encouraged me to take way more naps than I probably needed. And Daisy, whose squeaks and antics will always make me laugh.
During the fourth week of November, Americans typically like discuss thankfulness. In regards to chemo, there isn't much to be thankful. The experience sucks - there is really no other way to describe it. But if I had to say what I am thankful for in regards to chemo, I do have a few thoughts.
I am relieved that despite feeling nauseous at times, I never vomited. My wig wasn't horrible, and many people just assumed I had a slightly bad haircut (and some even complimented me on my new style). And I must recognize the the chemo nurses who made each chemo treatment session bearable, and sometimes, even slightly entertaining.
But in regards to true thankfulness, I am most thankful for my awesome husband, who I'm sure had his moments of frustration or anger, but never let me see them. I could not have survived those 5-months of chemo (or any of the many cancer-related surgeries, doctor's visits, psychological meltdowns, etc... throughout the entire cancer ordeal) without him and his unrelenting and unwavering support. Thank you. I love you.
As I not-so-fondly remember the chemo experience, I can smile and say, also thankfully, that the best part is now -- being finished, and have been finished for over six months. The port was removed last month. No more toxic chemicals flowing through my veins. Phew!
P.S. I can't forget to thank Betsy, who encouraged me to take way more naps than I probably needed. And Daisy, whose squeaks and antics will always make me laugh.
05 June 2009
Surgery Update
Last week I had a tissue expander implanted in me. The expander will be pumped up and force my skin to grow. The skin will then be used to create my brand, new, fancy breast. The entire stretching process should take about three months.
The procedure knocked me down a bit more than I anticipated. My original plan was to return to work on the Tuesday following the procedure. Instead, it is now Friday, and I am still at home (working but at home). Thank goodness for VPNs and the web, it is almost like I am at the office but instead of my team of nurses sleeping beside me while I lounge on the couch in my pajamas with my laptop. I could very easily become adjusted to this way of life.
Yesterday, Brandon and I returned to Cleveland to have my drainage tube removed, which was an uneventful process. We did spend quite a bit of time in the waiting room. While waiting to see the doctor, a young woman and her family were also there. By young woman, I mean someone in her 30s. I wish I knew her name so I could give her an online shout out of encouragement. She was bald (from chemo) and proud of it. She even wore a t-shirt which explained her situation -- it said something like "I'm bald from my medicine" but better, I just can't remember the exact comment.
I could never have done what she is doing. She was so confident and seemed to have such a positive attitude (or least from what I overheard in her conversations with others). I wish that I had seen her earlier in my process because it might have made being bald easier for me. I could barely walk around my house without some kind of head covering on.
So while I didn't say it yesterday, and I'll probably never see the proud bald lady again, I do want to acknowledge what a wonderful role model she is for all the young, bald, cancer patients. I wish I could have been more like her.
The procedure knocked me down a bit more than I anticipated. My original plan was to return to work on the Tuesday following the procedure. Instead, it is now Friday, and I am still at home (working but at home). Thank goodness for VPNs and the web, it is almost like I am at the office but instead of my team of nurses sleeping beside me while I lounge on the couch in my pajamas with my laptop. I could very easily become adjusted to this way of life.
Yesterday, Brandon and I returned to Cleveland to have my drainage tube removed, which was an uneventful process. We did spend quite a bit of time in the waiting room. While waiting to see the doctor, a young woman and her family were also there. By young woman, I mean someone in her 30s. I wish I knew her name so I could give her an online shout out of encouragement. She was bald (from chemo) and proud of it. She even wore a t-shirt which explained her situation -- it said something like "I'm bald from my medicine" but better, I just can't remember the exact comment.
I could never have done what she is doing. She was so confident and seemed to have such a positive attitude (or least from what I overheard in her conversations with others). I wish that I had seen her earlier in my process because it might have made being bald easier for me. I could barely walk around my house without some kind of head covering on.
So while I didn't say it yesterday, and I'll probably never see the proud bald lady again, I do want to acknowledge what a wonderful role model she is for all the young, bald, cancer patients. I wish I could have been more like her.
27 May 2009
Wig Free
So I tried going without the wig in public about a week and a half ago. Without the eyebrows, the experience freaked me out and I put a hat on after seeing my scary reflection in too many bathrooms. Last weekend, I tried going wigless again, and this time, since my eyebrows are growing back, the process was much less painful. So much so, that I haven't put the wig back on. Yippee!!!
12 May 2009
WTF
Chemo ended over a month ago. My facial hair (eyebrows, eyelashes) were due to fall out when I started Taxol in late January. Guess what? Now is the time when I have practically no eyelashes or eyebrows. WTF!!!
Just as I am contemplating never wearing the wig again -- all I need is for the slight receding hairline look to fill in -- I lose all of my facial hair. A perfect view of my childhood facial scar is available for all to see. Is the hair god messing with me? WTF?!?!?
Someone please explain the hairloss process to me. I am supposed to be moving forward with my life, not drawing eyebrows on my face. In late March, I even returned the unused eyebrow pencils to Target because obviously I wasn't going to need them -- I still had eyebrows.
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Just as I am contemplating never wearing the wig again -- all I need is for the slight receding hairline look to fill in -- I lose all of my facial hair. A perfect view of my childhood facial scar is available for all to see. Is the hair god messing with me? WTF?!?!?
Someone please explain the hairloss process to me. I am supposed to be moving forward with my life, not drawing eyebrows on my face. In late March, I even returned the unused eyebrow pencils to Target because obviously I wasn't going to need them -- I still had eyebrows.
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
23 April 2009
Bad Bedside Manner
I must vent.
Many chemo patients have ports installed in their upper chest to allow the evil toxic drugs easy access to veins. When chemo is finished, the port may be removed. Doctors seem to range among 2 opinions regarding port removal: 1) get it out and get on with your life or 2) leave the port in for 2-3 years just in case you need more chemo. My oncologist is from camp #1 and the local surgeon who can remove my port is from camp #2.
So yesterday, I had a doctor's appointment (arranged by my oncologist's office) with the surgeon who is to remove my port. Before the port was installed in November, the surgeon lectured me on her opinions about waiting to remove the port. So I knew before seeing her that she was not going to be pleased to see me.
First she made me wait for 25 minutes before coming into the room, then she walked into the room with a "why are you here" attitude. First she tossed my file down on her little metal table that she uses when taking notes on patients, and asked me why I was here. I explained that the appointment was made by the oncologist's office, that the port was occasionally uncomfortable, fear of clots, and concern about limitations of physical activity. She poopoo'd all of my concerns. But that isn't the best part...
I won't bore you with a play by play but she disapproves of my choice for reconstruction surgery, demanded to know why I made the decisions that I had made, why did I choose Cleveland for mastectomy, commented on how I travel to the big city for my important surgeries but only use her for the little ones (biopsy, ports), told me that the medical community disapproves of the DIEP surgery (but that if this is the surgery I want that I should go to the best and gave me the name of a surgeon in Boston), how she could put me in contact in with a very good plastic surgeon who comes to our small town for implants, informed me that she attends medical conferences, talked at me about the best ways to do incisions to save skin (without asking why I hadn't had a skin salvaging mastectomy), ....
I have probably even forgotten the best parts but I think you get the general gist of what happened in that office yesterday. Her 20-minute tirade ended with her telling me I could set up a port removal whenever I was ready. And I'm going to get charged for this appointment. She made me feel so horrible that all I wanted to do when I got home yesterday was crawl into bed.
I am tempted to report this surgeon to the local hospital for bad manners, but this is such a small town that my attempt to save someone from her venom may have bad results for me. And I doubt, in the end, my report would do any good.
Many chemo patients have ports installed in their upper chest to allow the evil toxic drugs easy access to veins. When chemo is finished, the port may be removed. Doctors seem to range among 2 opinions regarding port removal: 1) get it out and get on with your life or 2) leave the port in for 2-3 years just in case you need more chemo. My oncologist is from camp #1 and the local surgeon who can remove my port is from camp #2.
So yesterday, I had a doctor's appointment (arranged by my oncologist's office) with the surgeon who is to remove my port. Before the port was installed in November, the surgeon lectured me on her opinions about waiting to remove the port. So I knew before seeing her that she was not going to be pleased to see me.
First she made me wait for 25 minutes before coming into the room, then she walked into the room with a "why are you here" attitude. First she tossed my file down on her little metal table that she uses when taking notes on patients, and asked me why I was here. I explained that the appointment was made by the oncologist's office, that the port was occasionally uncomfortable, fear of clots, and concern about limitations of physical activity. She poopoo'd all of my concerns. But that isn't the best part...
I won't bore you with a play by play but she disapproves of my choice for reconstruction surgery, demanded to know why I made the decisions that I had made, why did I choose Cleveland for mastectomy, commented on how I travel to the big city for my important surgeries but only use her for the little ones (biopsy, ports), told me that the medical community disapproves of the DIEP surgery (but that if this is the surgery I want that I should go to the best and gave me the name of a surgeon in Boston), how she could put me in contact in with a very good plastic surgeon who comes to our small town for implants, informed me that she attends medical conferences, talked at me about the best ways to do incisions to save skin (without asking why I hadn't had a skin salvaging mastectomy), ....
I have probably even forgotten the best parts but I think you get the general gist of what happened in that office yesterday. Her 20-minute tirade ended with her telling me I could set up a port removal whenever I was ready. And I'm going to get charged for this appointment. She made me feel so horrible that all I wanted to do when I got home yesterday was crawl into bed.
I am tempted to report this surgeon to the local hospital for bad manners, but this is such a small town that my attempt to save someone from her venom may have bad results for me. And I doubt, in the end, my report would do any good.
09 April 2009
My Last Session
My last session of chemo was relatively uneventful. My blood work was acceptable. The premeds made me dopey. For those of you are sensitive to benadryl, I do not recommend receiving it intravenously; even holding a simple conversation, for example, about my favorite Chipotle burrito, became difficult.
I did have two special treats for my last session. For one, Brandon came with me, so we got to sit in one of the private rooms, rather than in "chemo alley" (what I call the hallway of recliners where most patients sit). He even arranged to bring muffins and cupcakes for the staff and patients, as a thank you for being so wonderful during this horrible experience.
My favorite part of chemo was the nurses and the ladies at the reception desk. Each one was so nice. I will miss seeing them every week (although I'll probably get over that pretty quickly). I will also probably miss the routine. Doing the same thing every week for 12 weeks, and then a similar process for the prior 2 months, is kind of habit-forming.
And the for the other treat, the nurses brought me a good-bye rose. The gesture was so sweet. The note said, "Congratulations on finishing chemo!!" If I hadn't been so doped up on benedryl, I would have probably teared up a bit. Even though I'll be back in the office for visits with the doctor, my relationship with the nurses will be different, and I will miss them.
I definitely won't miss the scary, toxic fluids being pumped into my body.
I did have two special treats for my last session. For one, Brandon came with me, so we got to sit in one of the private rooms, rather than in "chemo alley" (what I call the hallway of recliners where most patients sit). He even arranged to bring muffins and cupcakes for the staff and patients, as a thank you for being so wonderful during this horrible experience.
My favorite part of chemo was the nurses and the ladies at the reception desk. Each one was so nice. I will miss seeing them every week (although I'll probably get over that pretty quickly). I will also probably miss the routine. Doing the same thing every week for 12 weeks, and then a similar process for the prior 2 months, is kind of habit-forming.
And the for the other treat, the nurses brought me a good-bye rose. The gesture was so sweet. The note said, "Congratulations on finishing chemo!!" If I hadn't been so doped up on benedryl, I would have probably teared up a bit. Even though I'll be back in the office for visits with the doctor, my relationship with the nurses will be different, and I will miss them.
I definitely won't miss the scary, toxic fluids being pumped into my body.
08 April 2009
Je suis fini
Done!
Over!
Completed!
Finished!
The End!
You get the idea. My 5 months of chemotherapy have come to an end. I survived 4 sessions of A/C and 12 sessions of Taxol with flying colors. There are even people at work who I think don't know what I went through. Even my doctors are surprised that I was able to continue to work through the chemo. I guess that is what happens when you are young and healthy. Chemo couldn't completely knock me off my feet. Take that chemo. Now let us hope you did your job because I definitely don't want to do this again -- ever!!!
I tried to come up with a song with lyrics similar to the "Hark the Herald Angels Shout" like my classmates and I used to sing in middle and upper schools after the Christmas Carol program, but nothing good came to mind. Maybe I'll think of something in the middle of night tonight during the steroid induced insomnia that I anticipate.
Over!
Completed!
Finished!
The End!
You get the idea. My 5 months of chemotherapy have come to an end. I survived 4 sessions of A/C and 12 sessions of Taxol with flying colors. There are even people at work who I think don't know what I went through. Even my doctors are surprised that I was able to continue to work through the chemo. I guess that is what happens when you are young and healthy. Chemo couldn't completely knock me off my feet. Take that chemo. Now let us hope you did your job because I definitely don't want to do this again -- ever!!!
I tried to come up with a song with lyrics similar to the "Hark the Herald Angels Shout" like my classmates and I used to sing in middle and upper schools after the Christmas Carol program, but nothing good came to mind. Maybe I'll think of something in the middle of night tonight during the steroid induced insomnia that I anticipate.
28 March 2009
The Final Countdown
2 more chemo sessions!!! My how the time flies. Well not really but oh how I am glad to see the end on the horizon, and trips out of the state of Ohio on my agenda.
21 March 2009
Exhaustion
I can't believe how tired I have been lately. Last night I slept almost 12 hours. I have slept that much in years, and right now I can barely hold my head up. My body is tired. My concentration is shot. I'm looking forward to watching something silly on television.
Tomorrow and Monday, I am working both afternoons at an informational fair for seniors. I hope I don't crash. That would be ugly. Usually I hide in my office when I work, so being on display is a first for me since the chemo began. Wish me luck!
Tomorrow and Monday, I am working both afternoons at an informational fair for seniors. I hope I don't crash. That would be ugly. Usually I hide in my office when I work, so being on display is a first for me since the chemo began. Wish me luck!
19 March 2009
Unwanted Side Effects
The current time in Ohio is 2:30am and I cannot sleep. Thank you steroids. I went to chemo this morning which means that I am unable to sleep no matter how tired I am. I want to sleep, I love to sleep.
Another unpleasant side effect of chemo is hot flashes. Getting an early preview of menopause is not something anyone should experience. The hot flashes started a couple of weeks ago. I feel really warm and beads of sweat appear on my forehead.
Aches and pains are my other recurring annoyances. My toe "knuckles" ache. Sometimes my knees feel as if they are going to give out on me. My arms also are achy. Basically I experience lots of joint pain.
And I am often very tired. Exhaustion is becoming a way of life. The nurse today explained to me that the exhaustion is cumulative. I have one month left, and am tired all the time. Earlier in my Taxol rounds, I felt almost normal but the drug side effects are beginning to catch up with me. The nurse also told me that it is possible that I will take a while to regain my usual stamina after the chemo is over which is no good. I've got plans, and nothing is going to stop me. I need to leave the state of Ohio.
On the other side of evil chemo side effects, I am lucky to have been relatively healthy before chemo began. I never lost all my eyebrows or eyelashes. My nails did not turn gross and nasty. I never vomited. Of course I better be careful about what I saw. I still have 3 more sessions of chemo left. If there is one thing that I have learned from cancer experience, anything is possible.
Another unpleasant side effect of chemo is hot flashes. Getting an early preview of menopause is not something anyone should experience. The hot flashes started a couple of weeks ago. I feel really warm and beads of sweat appear on my forehead.
Aches and pains are my other recurring annoyances. My toe "knuckles" ache. Sometimes my knees feel as if they are going to give out on me. My arms also are achy. Basically I experience lots of joint pain.
And I am often very tired. Exhaustion is becoming a way of life. The nurse today explained to me that the exhaustion is cumulative. I have one month left, and am tired all the time. Earlier in my Taxol rounds, I felt almost normal but the drug side effects are beginning to catch up with me. The nurse also told me that it is possible that I will take a while to regain my usual stamina after the chemo is over which is no good. I've got plans, and nothing is going to stop me. I need to leave the state of Ohio.
On the other side of evil chemo side effects, I am lucky to have been relatively healthy before chemo began. I never lost all my eyebrows or eyelashes. My nails did not turn gross and nasty. I never vomited. Of course I better be careful about what I saw. I still have 3 more sessions of chemo left. If there is one thing that I have learned from cancer experience, anything is possible.
30 January 2009
Oh my blog, I haven't forgotten you
The month of January has passed by quickly. I have topics which I would like to discuss but my energy and enthusiasm levels have been low. The December holidays were not a totally happy time, and consequently my spirits have been low. When my spirits are low, I am less inclined to share my thoughts and comments.
Two weeks ago I started Taxol. So far, Taxol is much easier to withstand than the A/C. Nausea no longer haunts for me days at a time. My physical energy levels are higher. Before I receive the Taxol, due to concerns regarding an allergic-reaction I receive Benadryl intravenously. Whoa! Makes me stupid and sleepy very quickly.
I am also in the process of losing more hair. I found a pile of eyelashes on my laptop. My eyebrows are also due to fall out. I am not looking forward to drawing on my eyebrows. Women who draw them on always look really creepy to me. I have thing about eyebrows, and have for a while. When I lived in Chicago, and rode the bus to work, I would often spy on people's eyebrows. I don't know why. I guess I found eyebrows to be fascinating -- how some people pluck and pluck, and others are keep their's long and shaggy. My plan was to purchase some fake glasses to hide my ever decreasing eyebrows but I haven't yet found any. Maybe I'll see if I can find some cheap glasses at Target over the weekend.
Two weeks ago I started Taxol. So far, Taxol is much easier to withstand than the A/C. Nausea no longer haunts for me days at a time. My physical energy levels are higher. Before I receive the Taxol, due to concerns regarding an allergic-reaction I receive Benadryl intravenously. Whoa! Makes me stupid and sleepy very quickly.
I am also in the process of losing more hair. I found a pile of eyelashes on my laptop. My eyebrows are also due to fall out. I am not looking forward to drawing on my eyebrows. Women who draw them on always look really creepy to me. I have thing about eyebrows, and have for a while. When I lived in Chicago, and rode the bus to work, I would often spy on people's eyebrows. I don't know why. I guess I found eyebrows to be fascinating -- how some people pluck and pluck, and others are keep their's long and shaggy. My plan was to purchase some fake glasses to hide my ever decreasing eyebrows but I haven't yet found any. Maybe I'll see if I can find some cheap glasses at Target over the weekend.
08 January 2009
Last Dance with the Red Devil
Yesterday I had my last A/C chemo round. Phew!! Let's hope the recovery time for this round doesn't take as long as the session that I had right before Christmas.
I had nicknamed the Adriamycin the red menace, but I have since learned the nurses at my oncologist's office have already nicknamed it the red devil. Either works for me.
In two weeks, I'll begin my 12 weeks of Taxol.
I had nicknamed the Adriamycin the red menace, but I have since learned the nurses at my oncologist's office have already nicknamed it the red devil. Either works for me.
In two weeks, I'll begin my 12 weeks of Taxol.
29 December 2008
Bubbles!
One of my favorite forms of relaxation is sitting in a hot bath, usually with bubbles, reading a magazine or trashy novel. According to my oncologist's office, bubble baths may cause urinary tract infections (UTI) in chemo patients. As I understand it, the UTI is caused by the chemicals in the commercially produced bubble baths. The thought of getting a UTI while on chemo made me fearful, so I was sad at the thought of 5 months with no relaxing bubble baths.
For Christmas, Brandon made me homemade lavender bath bombs with all natural ingredients. He found the recipe online from Instructables.com. I believe most of the ingredients were found at a local health food store. He has two additional tips for anyone who wants to makes some bombs:
TIPS:
1) Measure dry ingredients by weight, not volume
2) Plan to triple the amount of wet ingredients called for. You might not use the whole mix, but you'll certainly need to use more than the recipe calls for.
I highly recommend these homemade bath bombs. The bath smelled great and the oils made my skin very soft. Once again, I can enjoy leisurely baths through the long winter nights.
For Christmas, Brandon made me homemade lavender bath bombs with all natural ingredients. He found the recipe online from Instructables.com. I believe most of the ingredients were found at a local health food store. He has two additional tips for anyone who wants to makes some bombs:
TIPS:
1) Measure dry ingredients by weight, not volume
2) Plan to triple the amount of wet ingredients called for. You might not use the whole mix, but you'll certainly need to use more than the recipe calls for.
I highly recommend these homemade bath bombs. The bath smelled great and the oils made my skin very soft. Once again, I can enjoy leisurely baths through the long winter nights.
27 December 2008
The Third Day of Christmas
Happy Holidays (whatever that holiday may be) to everyone!
So I am surviving the my latest round of A/C chemo. My appetite has not been good. I've been feeling more nauseous than usual (but no vomit yet!). And the exhaustion, aches, and pains are not going away.
Brandon and I chose to not travel for our holidays this year. The reason for this season was chemo. Holiday travel can be very stressful, and my body shouldn't be overly taxed. As it turns out, I had chemo scheduled for 2 days before Christmas so we couldn't reasonably plan to travel anywhere. We celebrated our first Christmas as a married couple with a tree, our cats, and a delicious meal at the local Chinese (non-buffet) restaurant. I ate a double serving of wonton soup, a couple of steamed dumplings, and a bite or two of crab rangoon. Brandon ordered beef in brown sauce, without vegetables but as per usual at this restaurant, the order was confused and the beef arrived with mounds of delicious looking broccoli. So now the broccoli leftovers await me in the refrigerator.
I love broccoli. Naively, I thought my love of broccoli would keep me safe from ever getting cancer. A quick Google search proves that I am not crazy, and broccoli is considered a cancer-fighting-healer vegetable, see here. So my love of broccoli now confuses me. I'm not sure how to take this next step in our relationship. How can I trust broccoli again? Sure it is still delicious and can be prepared in a variety of salads, soups, pastas, casseroles, etc..., but I counted on broccoli to protect me from a horrible disease, and broccoli failed me. So what is the moral of this tale? Don't count on food to stop cancer.
So I am surviving the my latest round of A/C chemo. My appetite has not been good. I've been feeling more nauseous than usual (but no vomit yet!). And the exhaustion, aches, and pains are not going away.
Brandon and I chose to not travel for our holidays this year. The reason for this season was chemo. Holiday travel can be very stressful, and my body shouldn't be overly taxed. As it turns out, I had chemo scheduled for 2 days before Christmas so we couldn't reasonably plan to travel anywhere. We celebrated our first Christmas as a married couple with a tree, our cats, and a delicious meal at the local Chinese (non-buffet) restaurant. I ate a double serving of wonton soup, a couple of steamed dumplings, and a bite or two of crab rangoon. Brandon ordered beef in brown sauce, without vegetables but as per usual at this restaurant, the order was confused and the beef arrived with mounds of delicious looking broccoli. So now the broccoli leftovers await me in the refrigerator.
I love broccoli. Naively, I thought my love of broccoli would keep me safe from ever getting cancer. A quick Google search proves that I am not crazy, and broccoli is considered a cancer-fighting-healer vegetable, see here. So my love of broccoli now confuses me. I'm not sure how to take this next step in our relationship. How can I trust broccoli again? Sure it is still delicious and can be prepared in a variety of salads, soups, pastas, casseroles, etc..., but I counted on broccoli to protect me from a horrible disease, and broccoli failed me. So what is the moral of this tale? Don't count on food to stop cancer.
21 December 2008
Hair Away
Hair is mostly gone now. I wonder if spray-on hair is still available for purchase? If I remember correctly from the late night infomercials, spray-on hair needed hairs to attach, of which I've got plenty random ones sprouting out of my head.
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