Going, going…

 Not quite gone, but it’s getting there. To those of you who’ve heard me comment that I look like a lightbulb that’s trying to grow hair… see for yourself! I look like a Minion!

Happy 45th birthday smiles to Hinrew! We love you bunches and are sending you big hugs and smooches.

Two months out, my scar looks fantastic. Every doc who has seen it says it’s healing really well. I have to admit that it looks way better than I was expecting it to. I’m thankful. 

Skellie Shenanigans

 Thing Two had his annual checkup with Dr. Jon, the amazing pediatrician we've had for 19 years now. He is a great sport, so we figured he'd get a kick out of some Shenanigans. Cadaver made an appearance to the absolute delight of the nurses and we waited to see if Dr. Jon could pick out the real Thing Two...

We got a few looks in the waiting room...

Dr. Jon took it in stride and said we should have Cadaver get on the scale to see which one of them actually weighed the most. As usual, he cautioned Thing Two about the potential detriment he might face if he gets a bad illness as he has zero body fat and no padding to draw from if he loses weight from being sick. Otherwise he was pleased with the visit and said his heart and lungs and all that jazz sounded great and that it's fun to hear all of it through very little extra padding, haha! 

He showed us the BMI chart, on which Thing Two doesn't even register. He said that the chart makers weren't going to make an extra low line just for him. He said he's still growing though it's slow and steady and he had gained a little in height and weight both since his last check. Overall, he was pleased to see us, Cadaver and all, and Thing Two got his flu shot. 

And we gave my Dad a roommate 😀:

Chemo #2, check!

 Okay gang, I'm officially halfway done with the AC part of chemo. Two down, two more to go. This time I get a three week break before my next one so that I may feel like myself and enjoy my favorite holiday with some of my favorite peeps! Yippie! 

Dad got to go with me yesterday and kept me company through all the sitting around. I reminded my nurse about "a slow steroid, please" and she said, "oh, no worries, I ALWAYS do that one over a 10 minute span- I don't push it!" There were no issues, no turning tomato red, no weird tingles, nothing. I felt like my heart was beating just a little fast during my bag of Pepcid, which I don't remember happening before, but it could just be the massive chemical dump that was happening and it didn't last long sooooo...

My doc was thrilled with both my bloodwork numbers and my range of motion. It's so nice to have a cheerleader like her. I don't know what parts per million or whatever the units are supposed to be, but my white blood cells were 9.9, hemoglobin is supposed to be at least 10 and mine's 12.3, and platelets are to be over 100 and mine were 167, so she was actually cheering when she read those. I guess those are the magic 3 that they keep a close eye on. 

We talked again about radiation and I told her we have our second opinion consult tomorrow morning. She said her very strong vote was for proton therapy. It'll be interesting to see what Dr. P recommends tomorrow.

We also discussed having my lady parts- ovaries, tubes, and uterus- out in the future, but it's not an immediate thing. At this point, I told her I feel like a Mrs. Potato Head just ditching pieces left and right. "Well, don't need THOSE anymore and who needs hair and I don't need THAt and..." My Dad and my doc both cracked up, but it's the best mental image I can summon up to describe my poor old bod at this point! 😄 As if to drive the point home, my period started today and I find myself musing about the absolute indignities of cancer treatment and planning and all of it:

- mosquitoes who bite me don't even have the decency to die thanks to the chemicals in me which I find absolutely unfair.

- I have no body parts capable of feeding an infant yet my ovaries and uterus care not, apparently, and just keep chugging along though that ship has not only sailed but has been used as a funeral pyre, lit on fire, and sunk. Yet here we are. 

- I got to discuss my bowels and my periods in front of my father, poor thing.

All of it is weird. But I have the best team, the best tribe, a big God and far too much food and I am hanging in there! 

AND happy birthday to my precious Mommeeeeeee today! We all send birthday hugs home with Dad. Miss you and love you bunches! 

Happy hump day, everybody. Take good care of you!

All I need now is a torpedo

 The radiation consult went... well? Hard to say when we still have so many questions. I need to set up a second opinion/pick your brain session with my local doc here who did my photon radiation the first time around. 

I was impressed with both the research student and Dr J. They were upfront about there being very little longitudinal data because proton therapy, which they are recommending, is a newer technique. They've been doing it for awhile at their location but just opened it up a few months ago to breast cancer patients, so I'd be part of something... new? Fresh? Exciting? Terrifying? 

"All of it, Frank." (That's from "Father Goose", another childhood favorite which stars Cary Grant and Leslie Caron and comes highly recommended! We use a TON of the lines from that one on a regular basis.)

As my charming husband likes to remind me on every possible occasion, I was four chapters behind in my college physics class my freshman year when he visited. Therefore, I'm probably not the ideal person to spell this out, but if I have the general gist of the science, then photon therapy (that I had the first time) is essentially the same dose over designated area. I had 33 sessions, once per day, of that over several weeks. 

I claim ZERO understanding as to how a photon torpedo works, which is what I keep hearing in my head thanks to years of my mother watching "Star Trek"...

Proton therapy, I guess, targets more specifically and then the energy drops off more quickly, in theory sparing some damage. That's a good thing because what is under where they're targeting? Oh you know, my heart and my lungs. No big. 😏Again, I THINK I have that right. They can focus it like a mountain versus a plateau. Yeah, let's go with that. All I need to do now is write "Radiation for Dummies", hehe.

Dr. J recommends the proton therapy this time over photon therapy and that would be twice a day with at least a six hour window between sessions because in that window healthy cells can repair themselves but cancer cells can't. I think that is fascinating! How cool is that? Because it would be twice a day, I'd be done in about 3 work weeks. 

"But I thought... but we'd been told multiple times that you can't re-radiate an area that had already been radiated. Won't that damage the bypass surgery that I just had? Will insurance cover any of this? Why is one better than the other? Would either work? Why do you recommend one over the other? What SHOULD we be asking that we don't know to ask? Argh, why isn't there statistical data yet?" 

Those questions and more swirled around the room as we chatted. Dr. J seemed very knowledgeable and earnest and asked great questions. It sounds like he was on the tumor board so he's already heard of and talked over my case. As always, I marveled at how I felt seen as myself and not simply a patient number on a file somewhere. Truly these medical professionals have callings and not just occupations. I'm so thankful for their passion as well as their compassion. I also appreciated his earnestness. 

I'll keep you posted but that's really all I know right now. No studies to really compare, so until I talk with my local rads doc, we'll just bounce that beach ball of photon versus proton around... *doink doink doink*

Halloween birthday boy

Somehow I didn't get a photo of Thing Two in Halloween garb, but as he was head to toe black as the Angel of Death, I trust you can use your imagination to envision this:

He loped to an open garage to collect a treat and was accosted by what he called "a tiny princess- she was about thigh high" who asked him, "are you a real pirate?"

He rumbled, "oh yeah."

I did have these photos with "his" yellow tree. He is affectionately known locally as "Yellowjacket." I wanted to get one of him in his robe as it creeps ever higher and shorter on him, but we've had some frosts and now those lovely yellow leaves are a sad brown, not the "happy crispy brown leaf" as our friend Sharon coined. 

The rest of us. My wig was trying to bisect my brain, which I suppose was a good thing as it was rainy with a wind advisory, but it reignited my "I have zero desire to wear a wig when I'm bald" mantra...

Thing Three loves over the top costumes and has already devoured the vast majority of his haul. Good thing we put off him getting braces until the New Year.

And the amazing artistry of Thing One:

Hope you all had a Halloween and are not finding candy wrappers behind your couch or in other suspicious locations!

 

Fall beauty to nourish your stressed out soul

 

I can't be the only person who is stressed out over the election today, so I figured I'd share the absolutely gorgeous Ohio morning I experienced today. As always, you can click on the photos to enlarge them. Enjoy! And vote!

Smoke detector reminder and other stories

 I am a little alarmed at how early the chemo side effects have set in. I worked on that previous post twice and still forgot to relay the funny story. *sigh* Bear with me, folks.

One of the 4 anti nausea drugs in the premedication umbrella-

-which makes me laugh because the wording is funny. I only get two chemo meds. I have four anti nausea meds. And they're called the "premedication" part? Hahaha! I am definitely living yet again the courtroom scene from "What's Up, Doc?" where the Judge is lamenting his drug dependence. If you haven't seen it, go track it down. Here's the specific snippet I mean but the whole thing bears seeing.-

-is apparently a steroid. The first med is a quick push one and went into my port just fine in a matter of less than a minute. The second one, the steroid, made me feel burny and tingly in places that I knew I didn't have a UTI so I assumed it was from whatever drip I was getting and that it was temporary. However, then I started to feel flushed and began to see tiny sparkles. My Doc was talking to me, my Lisa was there, there was also a pharmaceutical student present, so I interrupted to announce, "Um, I'm starting to see sparkles and it feels like I'm breathing through a straw...?" They all looked closer at me and the Doc says, "oh yep, turn that medication off and get a nurse." The meds get shut off, I feel the heat start to drain back out of my face, and the arriving nurses reassure me that I just got that steroid too fast, it's already in, all will be well. Note into chart about a slower steroid. Got it. Okiedokie. Whew, hot flash. My Doc uses it as a teachable moment and points out how my color is already better, asks if I'm also experiencing burning and tingling, and yes indeed, it was a reaction to receiving a steroid. 

"Have you ever had a steroid before?"

"Umm, I don't think I have, actually!"

She assured me that oral ones for, say, poison ivy or some such would still be fine, and reiterated that this one was just pushed too quickly for me, but my body has since caught up and all is well. Moving on...

Everything else was fine, no surprises other than I expected a hanging bag of Red Devil and it turned out to be in a syringe that the lovely nurse has to physically sit there and push over a few minutes, which lessened the impact of the googly eyes since we were the only ones who could see them, haha, but oh well. 

However, try explaining later to your husband about a steroid reaction and then have him turn to your bestie questioningly and have her answer, "she was redder than her sweater." Poor love of my life. But now we know. AND I was right about the burny and tingly feeling dissipating right away.

So Daddeeeeee, when you're up next time, we will ask for a slow steroid. No worries! I got you!

That was all on Monday. Some of those anti nausea meds last for 72 hours so the next few days I felt... chemically... I guess is the best way to put it. Not truly nauseous even when they wore off but felt like I could be, so I took some of the prescription they'd sent me home with, heeding Dada's advice to "not be a hero" and Lisa's advice to "stay ahead of it."  I'm eating a ridiculous amount of small meals and can absolutely see why the Doc cautioned that these particular chemo meds can make people gain weight: it feels better to have something in my stomach. She also warned that chemo weight is harder to lose than regular, but finished with "but I'm not worried about you because you're active and you'll be okay." I devilishly mentioned that the holidays were in between now and when I'll be finished so who would ever know if it was the chemo or the yummy foods? Hehehehe. I'm again struck by how similar chemo is to pregnancy: nausea, brain fog, weight fluctuation, craving something but not having any idea what, laying down to close your eyes and awakening hours later.

Thank you to my school friends for the ginger chews and to my friends who've sent candies and to my hubby who found me coconut bites. Y'all rock, as usual!

Yesterday, four days after chemo, I woke up and felt like my brain was actually clearer and more myself. I still feel that way today and haven't taken any meds other than my usual allergy pill, multivitamin, and calcium with vitamin D. I've had my breakfast and am cautiously optimistic for a nice weekend. My Doc said to keep track of what I felt when so we can determine "my pattern" and predict what I'll need and when. 

Next week I'm scheduled for a bag of fluids and a blood draw, both through the port so no worries, and my radiation consult. I have extremely mixed feelings about all this radiation business. I've heard from several sources that you can't re-radiate the same area, so why the tumor board wants me to have a consult about it boggles me. Plus, they mentioned I could be a candidate for proton therapy, but when I look that up it says it targets a tumor, which I no longer HAVE, so again, I'm stymied. Guess that's why I gotta talk to the experts. I asked my Doc about it during chemo and she set me straight: don't dismiss it out of hand. We want to throw everything at this, so go see what they say. 

Yes, ma'am. 

As far as the whole armpit area/ bypass surgery part is going, it's been 6.5 weeks since surgery and range of motion is definitely improving. I'll get some pictures up at some point, but things are looking decent-ish. I'll never win any Sex Goddess Body awards but since I was never aiming for that anyway, no big loss. I'd rather have ice cream! 

Moving is definitely better for me than sitting, and sleeping is wonderful. Enjoy that extra hour this weekend and do NOT feel guilty if you use it for sleeping! I'm waving my wand over here and giving you permission to use it however it will most bless your life. *swish swish* Don't forget to check your smoke detectors and have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

Red Devil

 

In case you haven't figured it out already, my superpower is finding silver linings. I don't just lean towards positivity, I'm pretty much rooted there. If there is good in a situation, I'm likely to trip over it. 

So I added googly eyes to my "Red Devil" chemo. My doc asked me why. I told her it was to remind me that it was a friend, not a foe, and that it is to help me and not hurt me. She said she'd never seen anyone do that before. 

I'd heard stories of other patients who have had it and how it wipes you out. Zero energy. But it's also, from what I've read, excellent at killing cancer cells at every stage of growth. Sounds like an excellent weapon to employ. 

Am I tired? You bet. Do I still plan to take my 3 mile walk today? Also yes- not gonna squander that sunshine while it lasts! Do I have laundry on the line? Also yes. Am I drinking my water- the goal is 64 ounces daily- yes. I'm at about 32 done right now, so not too shabby. 

(Here is where I fell asleep the first time attempting this post.)

So to back up, my first AC chemo (Adriamycin and Cyclophosphamide) was on Monday. They started me with about 4 anti-nausea meds, at least one of which that lasts 72 hours. I just looked up some more stuff about those and, holy cow, I should just stay off the Internet. Adriamycin also goes by Red Devil, hence the googly eyes to remind me it's a friend; it kills cancer in every stage of its life cycle and prevents replication. Also some serious side effects in addition to less serious ones like hair loss. (Been there, done that, Jeep hair, don't care.)

But effects on the heart is nothing to sneeze at, so they'll be keeping a close eye on me just as they did with my year of Herceptin. As far as I know, this is only 4 cycles AND I have the benefit of some wiggle room: since it used to be given every three weeks, I can do that so I don't have a treatment right before Thanksgiving, wahoo! They've discovered when they add a Neulasta patch to bump up your cell production that they can shorten the cycle to two weeks between each treatment, but also can give the grace week for scheduling purposes. Whilst I don't mind being a lightning bug (the patch attaches to your arm and blinks for 27 hours until it does your 45 minute injection and then the light clicks to red and it turns off. Then you remove it.) it is on my left side because of the risk of lymphedema being elevated on my right side. Well, guess who generally sleeps on her left side? Haha. Them's the breaks. 

Round One is done. 

I started this post yesterday afternoon, then had to pause to take a nap. Did my 3 mile walk later, had a good sleep, all that jazz, and had a two hour nap today before I got back to the blog! Then whilst reading the "how to get through chemo" parts of the literature it said take naps if you need to but try to keep them to about 30 minutes. Whoops.

I'm to drink tons of water and am doing well in that regard. Might just float away. People are asking how to help and our fridge and freezer are FULL, so remind me to drink water. Not rum*, not Fireball, no Mike's Hard Lemonade. 

Water.

And ginger ale and Gatorade and schedule IV fluids if I feel I need them. Thankfully ice cream is not forbidden, though I don't think that counts as liquids. Shucks. And I know half of you just shouted, "MILKSHAKES!" I hear you. =)

So far, so good. I am a bit alarmed that I already feel more... chemically... than I feel like I should- this is cumulative and that was only my first and yikes- but maybe cells in my body are now on full alert running around hollering, "enemies foreign and domestic! Move, move, move!"

The election coverage isn't helping, haha. Dada hears my hugs sighs of exasperation and doesn't even look up from what he's doing to remark, "why do you even READ about it?" *Grumble, grumble, grumble* 

Go vote. You have a voice. Go use it. 

Anybody needs a napping buddy, come on over! 

Apologies in advance for future continuity issues and/or lack of proofreading. I dunno how people hold down jobs during this unless it's love for and support from their coworkers (which I can absolutely see). Hang on to your brain cells, friends, cuz I'm gonna need 'em!

* Also, and yes, Mom, it took me this long to figure it out, but I think I now know why stereotypical sailors head straight for alcohol upon landing. After months at sea, becoming used to the six different motions of a ship on a sea, then landing to discover only gravity is working against you has gotta feel WEIRD. I think they use alcohol to recalibrate their fluid looseness that is their "usual/normal" state when at sea! Self medication. Makes sense to me!