Category Archives: Health

Bit of an ICK post

The final session was overall good, but it took us a while to get started.

I began with my usual great session with my oncologist. Dr. H. continues to be a great person to work with.

My wbc (white blood count) was at 24.9 — so we were GOOD to go (remember, the ‘normal’ range is 4-10, so I have continues to be a powerhouse of health).

We ran into trouble actually finding a vein. Apparently I have ‘thick skin’ — not subcutaneous fat (I asked) but literally skin that is hard to push through. (Dad tells me he has the same type of skin). So it took almost an hour and four attempts to finally get a vein. Ouch is an understatement.

We ended up going with the vein in my right elbow. Its a good vein, but the danger of damage from a leak is much higher. I had to be careful not to bend my elbow and inadvertently block the drip.
Otherwise, it was my usual easy-peasey time. We talked, I drifted a bit. John and Dad hung out.

Last night we went to dinner at Melrose Grill (filet mignon and a perfect baked potato!) and walked Sasha.

Today I’m tired, very tired. I’m going to try and walk Sasha this morning, but its a tough call. Definitely with Dad (John’s at work) so I have back up if I need it.

It’s a slow recovery this time I think.

The ‘last one’ energy and excitement (and relief) hasn’t really hit yet. I’m sure I’ll be in a better mood when it does. Right now I’m already feeling the enervation that comes from being poisoned.

Final Poisoning Tomorrow

Tomorrow (5/5) is my final chemo session. Part of me is incredibly happy it will soon be over. Mostly, however, I’m just very tired and drained. I’m not actually ready for another round — it’s like I didn’t recover from the last time.
Sorry to be a bit down, but it’s not that I’m UNhappy, or sad, or anything. Just tired.

It’s the last one, folks. (Fairly) soon, I’ll be back to normal.

Sorry for the lack of update

Chemo #3 went well . . . but there was quite a bit of aftermath.

First of all, I seemed to get a bit of an infection that required antibiotics. This was on Wednesday, chemo day. I absolutely had a brain freeze and just didn’t think to tell my oncologist (yes, I know — stupid of me) until Thursday evening. (Thanks to my mother for politely pointing out that I needed to make that call immediately.) So I spoke with the on-call oncologist and he insisted I come in for a consult the next day.

Continue reading

3 down!

Chemo #3 went just fine. No bad surprises.

In fact, I mentioned earlier that I was worried because I had a blood draw about 10 days ago and the number was VERY low (2.5). The MA said that I’d likely have to do a course of Nulestra (which forces the bone marrow to produce white blood cells). I don’t want to, at the least because it’s painful.

So I’ve been visualizing little factories in my bones, producing wbc’s at a high rate.

My blood draw today? 28.5 🙂 My oncologist said “keep it up.”

No Nulestra for me. We are good to go for the final chemo session on May 5th!

It’s been a GREAT week

Seriously, it’s been a great week.

I worked full days, and even overtime (by 9 hours) and . . . best of all . . .

I WORKED OUT

every single day.

I walked Sasha twice a day, for 15-20 mins each time. But that’s sort of baseline (at least on non-chemo days). I also got out my tapes and lifted weights as part of a routine for the first time in months. It feels great.

I have to laugh at myself, I’m so weak. My ‘heavy poundage’ is 5 lbs and I don’t last longer than 20 mins. But it is a huge step forward.

I feel so good. My vitality is back, I feel healthy again. It is amazing.

The Queen of Denial

The Queen of Denial is not me. Oh, I’ll joke about it occasionally, but really, I’m incredible perceptive and accurate in my assessments of myself and the world around me.

The Queen of Denial is this woman: Dr. Desiree Pardi (the link takes you to the original story on the New York Times website). In a story full of horror and woe what comes through the most is the irony. A doctor specializing in palliative care puts herself — and her family — through a year of increasingly horrible procedures and pain because she refuses to admit that her cancer is not curable.

This is the horror of breast cancer, and it is not my story. It is, however, a story about the pain that denial causes and the ripple effect it has on those around the denier.

This is me being judgmental, I know. But instead of spending $1000s on ever-more-complicated treatments, she could have been doing everything she ever wanted to do, spending time in beautiful locations with her husband, and giving her loved ones, friends, and colleagues a chance to say goodbye. Instead of saying “I’m a survivor” she could have said “I did great work and helped many people, time to move to the next level.”

Fear of death is a massively powerful force. It takes a great deal of courage to face the unknown and slip into it gracefully. Dr. Pardi’s story is the story of many people. Her story is not my story, not least because I’m not dying yet.

It is also not my story because I am not afraid of dying . .  I’m mostly interested in avoiding any pain around the process of dying itself. Oh, and I’d like to know when I’m going to die so I can get it all accomplished before I move on.

BRCA Test Info

Every woman, by virtue of being a woman, has a 12% chance of getting breast cancer in her lifetime, and a 2% chance of getting ovarian cancer. For 90% of women who get cancer, it is not genetic.

There are, however, six genes that — if mutated or damaged — indicate a 40% chance of getting breast or ovarian cancer. Four of these genetic mutations produce visible signs, the other two can be found with a blood test.

Since I got breast cancer, it may be that I am one of the 12% who have a genetic mutation. If I do, this has implications for everyone I share blood with. Particularly scary is the ovarian cancer, because that is an extremely lethal form of cancer — mostly because they can’t spot it until it is a Stage 3 cancer, and there are few options at that point.

So I am normal, with a normal chance of getting a new cancer. YAY.

more info:

http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Risk/BRCA

http://www.labtestsonline.org/understanding/analytes/brca/test.html

Post Chemo #2 Update

Yesterday (Monday) was 5 days post-chemo, and so far things are going remarkably similar to how they went the first time ’round. Saturday evening I started getting the achy bones, so I went on Dilaudid right away. When I woke up yesterday no painkiller was needed. Yes, just like that.

I was quite tired all day — not the same as the enervating lassitude of Saturday (the worst day) — but a literal tiredness. Chemo, and the steroids, upsets my sleep cycle — I keep having to get up in the night, about every 90 mins-2 hours. I rest, but I don’t get the really good REM/dream sleep.

Last night I went down for a good 4-5 hours at a time. Heaven.

In other good news: I got the genetic test results back from my counselor. (OOPS. I never mentioned this. OK, upcoming post.)

For now: I am not mutated. I am normal. Seriously, this is the FIRST good health news I’ve gotten since late August. It is VERY good news.