Latest Updates

On Mon 12/5/11, I had my follow up visit with Dr. L (Chemo dr) where he pronounced that I was doing well and gave me my prescription for Tamoxifen.

That means I still have to get an Herceptin Iv once every three weeks until at least May/June 2012 and take one Tamoxifen pill, daily, until, 2016.

On the hair front…

This past weekend, (Sat, 12/10/00) Sheldon and I went to a small gathering at the home of our friends, Moody and Irina.  I chose this to be my ‘revealing’ moment.  I’m so tired of wearing the wigs.  It gets very hot underneath those things, and I also felt kind of like a fraud, trying to ‘trick’ people into believing that I was perfectly healthy with a full head of hair.  Anyhow, I was really nervous because up until now a very, very small number of people have seen me bald!  I couldn’t believe that I had not only showed 6 new people my fuzzy head but I stayed wigless for a few hours!  It may not seem like such a big deal, but you have to understand that I have never in my life had hair this short.  I was born with a head of fluffy hair and up until the 1990s-early 2000s, I had never cut my hair any shorter than shoulder length.

I want to thank Irina & Moody, June & Chris, and David & Jonathan for making me feel comfortable on Saturday.  You guys made me much more relaxed about my vanity, so much so, that I am going to post a photo today.

Most of you have only seen me in at least one of my lovely hairstyles lately: a) The Chassidic mamala style, b) The cute, curly, Flatbush Avenue Lace-front party style, and c) Natasha, the Rusky spy style.  Now, I present to you my “Britney is a crazy bitch style”, aka- “this is my real hair”!!!

I had my last chemo on 9/14/11, but the first 3-4 weeks following, the chemo destroyed the little growth I had. (An accidental double entendre?) So, this is about 9 weeks of hair growth. 

(Oh, yes, I forgot to add the story about when my eyes took turns swelling up during the radiation process.  I think I'm allergic to a certain brand of baby powder.  But, that's a story for another time... Please excuse how my eye lids look in this pic.   The swelling is mostly gone by now.  This photo was taken last week.)

Continuation and end of Radiation

I don’t know that I really have that much to add about the radiation.  After chemo, radiation is a piece of cake.  A slightly over baked, crispy pie, maybe.

Every week day morning at 9:45, I showed up to the basement level of Methodist Hospital in Park Slope, Brooklyn. I put my blue appointment card in the little box, changed into very fashionable hospital gown/robe, said hello to my fellow morning session radiotherapy patients, and settled in to watch an amusing “Let’s make a deal,” as I waited to be called by my wonderful technicians. After the 11 minute treatment was done, I ran to the car where my dad was awaiting me and he drove me to work.  They were pretty busy days but it was perfect since I didn’t want to have too much time to just sit and think and feel sorry for myself.

The first 5 weeks of radiation went smoothly.  At the end of week 5/beginning of week 6, I had a small tiny dot of peeling skin under my arm.  It stung a teensy bit but was fine otherwise.   Mrs. D, who I mentioned in the Prospect Park post, went through her treatment about a year ago.  We spoke a little during the walk and she told me about her burn from radiation and offered me the fancy cream she used. (Thank you!)  Well, due to this (and my uncanny ability to turn anything into hypochondria and anxiety), I started to worry that my burn might get really bad.  I was due to see Dr. R that day, anyway, for my weekly visit with him.  He reassured me that no two people are the same and hence no one else’s experience could predict that mine would follow suite.  He brought me over some fancy cream (desitin diaper cream + Iron + other fabulous stuff) that was mixed right in his department, which I used generously over the next few weeks.

The following week, my skin peeled a little more.  I freaked out of course and broke down at my appt with Dr. R, but he jokingly asked me if I had never peeled from a sun burn before to which I replied that yes, I most definitely did when I used to tan when I was younger, but I got to have fun in the sun and beach or pool first!!  In hindsight, he was absolutely right.  I guess I just got scared to see my skin peel off in large pieces.  (Sorry about the too much info!)  Dr. R wasn’t worried because underneath the peeling, I had already grown fresh, new skin.  This is what is supposed to happen. 

I’m not going to lie and say it didn’t hurt at all, because, yes, it stung like crazy!!  I managed all right because it only really hurt when I moved my left arm or when the cloth of my shirt touched the sensitive crispy bits and I was super careful not to let that happen. I didn’t end up taking any medication- even though it was suggested that I take even a Tylenol or ibuprofen.  And for some more tmi, I had to stop wearing a bra for over a week.  Talk about awkward. But during the week and a half of my “booster” radiation (which is when they aimed the radiation ONLY to a small radius surrounding the lumpectomy site, instead of the entire area like before) my underarm and underboob healed real quick!  I was fully healed within a week of my last radiation, and today- 2 weeks plus one day after my last treatment- I feel really good.  The peeling even lightened my scars a lot.  They’re so barely noticeable now.

A bunch of thanks to Dr. R, and to my technicians Iris and Thien. I can't believe I am thanking people who attacked me with radiation! But, in all seriousness, thanks for taking great care of me and making me feel comfortable even though I was lying there topless!!  (I might give them the URL to this blog at some point. ha ha)

Prospect Park Walk

On October 16, I joined Team “Fight like a girl,” (Aka, Team PJ Hanley’s) to walk in the American Cancer Society’s Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk in prospect Park, Brooklyn.  S and I, clad in pink, walked up to 9^th street to meet up with our group.  It was so crowded.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a huge crowd there, before.  And, they were all here for the cause. I got a little emotional when I realized just how many people have to deal with the C word (C…C…Cancer) and how many of their/our family and friends came out to support them.  The thought was and is still so overwhelming to me.  I held it back and made myself smile. [I learned that on The Tyra banks show when Janet Jackson told her that by physically smiling, you somehow stop the tears from forming in your eyes. Hey, it works.]

I’m just going to come right out and say it.  In my family, I’m a notorious cry baby.  I cry when I’m happy and when I’m sad. I cry when I’m deeply touched and I even cry when I’m angry.  My grandfather S.H. was probably the toughest, strongest person I’ve ever known. He was not a crier.  He playfully teased when he saw me cry over silly things.  We couldn’t be more opposite, at yet, I feel compelled to take a little bit of him and put it to good use in myself.  So, throughout this whole ordeal, he was my inspiration in holding back the tears unless it was something worth crying about! Also, it came in handy since I really despise waking up with super puffy eyes and a headache. I’m working on making myself stronger.  But, I digress…

It was great seeing my 2 little sisters, Jenny and Shany (and Shan’s mom, a survivor. GO Mrs. D! You gave me courage.) and Joyce and my rock star buddy Mr. Mike Posner who is cooler than you, and the rest of the PJ Hanley’s team. It was a lovely sunny October day with a nice walk followed by a delicious brunch with great people. I'm smiling as I type this. (I decided to use full names because the single initials were getting too confusing. Darn all you J’s! Just let me know if you’d prefer I remove your name.)

I want to thank my family and friends who came out to fundraiser walks (and my surprise birthday party!) this year and to all of you guys who wanted to but couldn’t due to busy schedules, lack of transportation into Brooklyn, and to sprained ankles.  Your support means the world to me and to the cause, as well! I wish I could throw you all a party but my words are all I have at the moment.

My follow up PET Scan

I can’t believe I haven’t updated this page since October!  I kept meaning to, I promise! I’ve been linking the blog to a few more people so I think I should probably update all 5 of you guys on how I’m doing. ;o)

I had a big announcement that I was supposed to mention after my PET Scan. I haven’t even really told many people in person, either.  Back in May, My first PET scan showed a tiny (1.5cm) “dot” on my pelvis.  I found out on my first day of Chemo when my doctor told me that they weren’t sure what it was but that they were going to add 2 extra rounds of chemo to take care of it.  I was originally only supposed to have 4 cycles.  Cycles 5 and 6 were quite rough, especially on my patience.

My big announcement is that my follow up scan showed NO SIGNS of that mysterious dot!!!!

When I saw Dr. R (my Radiologist) to get my results, he told me that it was still there and that they’d keep an eye on it since they still wasn’t sure what it was.  I held my breath so hard hoping that I wouldn’t start crying until after he left the room. Just thinking about that moment is making my heart race.  I was so excited about finishing with my chemotherapy and so focused on finishing up the radiation therapy and thinking about what would come next.  My mother came to that appointment with me and I hesitated looking at her, either.  I knew that would start the flow of tears.  She asked the Dr. if we could have a copy of the results for our records.  My brain was all over the place. Thanks, mom, for thinking clearly!!!

Dr. R left the room to get our copy printed.  That’s when I starting my complaining to my dearest mother.  “We’ll get through this. We just have to take it day by day,” she reminded me.  Then he walked back into the room, reading the paper as he almost walked right into me.  “No evidence found,” he read.  I was in shock. I asked for the paper so that I could read it myself.  I could barely see the paper through the puddle in my eyes but it was true!  Such a load was lifted off my shoulders.  I didn’t even realize that I was carrying that around until it was lifted.

Dr. R, you’re awesome, but please, please, please don’t ever do that to anyone again!  I understand that he is a busy man, but this stuff is important.  These are our lives you’re discussing.

So, yes, those are seven paragraphs just to say, “So far, so good.”

On to the next step....

I've been lazy... haven't been keeping up with my updates on here. But, I'm back!

So... It's been a little over 3 weeks since #6! My taste buds are back to normal, I feel pretty good, I'm a year older, and I've gained back all the weight. Fun times! Still no hairs, though.

I just finished my first week of radiation, which is an interesting experience in itself. It doesn't give me any side effects (I guess, other than fatigue and a possibility of a tan/sunburn of the area.) so that's all that matters!!  Too many men have seen my boob(s) by this point, though. On the first day of my radiation,  my 2 radiology technicians (one male, one female) were joined by 2 male students.  I should be used to it by now, because I've managed to have only male doctors (the oncologist who did my surgery, the hemotologist oncologist who planned out my chemo, and now my radiologist dr.)

I also had a PET scan this week... and they made me drink a full cup of barium. Lemon-chemical-licious!

The radiation is going to be every weekday for about 7 weeks. So, 5 down and approx 30 left to go...

Sunday, August 14, 2011

I'm feeling much better this weekend.  I wasn't feeling wonderful on Friday, but the chemical taste finally subsided on Friday night.

Last week, I found out that I lost weight again.  I'm back down to 156lbs. I'm eating much better this weekend, though, so I will prob pick that up a bit. I have a little over a week before I need to go in for #5.

Not looking forward to the aftermath of that one.

Just have to remind myself that I'm almost there.... 

Update on Cycle 4...

It’s been almost a full week since Chemo #4 and my taste buds and appetite are still off balance. I’m also getting very frustrated, in general.  In hindsight, the first few cycles went rather quick but I am really getting my fill by now.  I can’t even imagine how I’m supposed to deal with at least 2-3 more cycles.  It really takes a lot out of me.  This latest one, I’ve been very tired all day.  From Friday until Saturday, I slept a lot.  I slept for about 15 hours on/off with just a couple breaks in between.

I’m getting very tired of this chemical taste in my mouth.  I got pizza for dinner today and was all excited about it.  I took one bite and could barely taste anything.

I guess that’s all I can update with for now.  I have to go in for my herceptin infusion tomorrow, so hopefully that will make me feel a bit better.

7/29/11 "Other updates"

This past weekend, I spent sometime with my parents and nephews in Monticello, NY.  The city was too humid and I just needed a change of scenery.  It was pretty relaxing, well, as relaxing as it could be with a 2 year old, an 8 year old, and 2 dogs running around!!!

I was a little nervous about telling my nephew about my whole (lack of) hair situation.  A few days before, when I walked to the car after not seeing him for a while, he told me that I looked a little different but he wasn’t sure why. I asked him if it was because of my hair.  He said, yeah, it looks shorter and kind of different. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him, yet because I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.  I did get some encouragement to do so and I knew that I couldn’t keep the wig on my head 24/7 for the whole weekend, so I asked him if he remembered when he came to pick me up from the doctor’s appointment and saw the bandage on my arm. I had originally told him that it was from a blood test.  I told him that I was taking a certain kind of medication that makes my hair fall out.  This made him open his eyes wide and we laughed for a bit.  I explained to him that I needed this medicine to get better, so I just have to deal with the hair loss for now but that it was just temporary.  The first day I told him, he didn’t want me to take off the wig. But by the next day, he decided he was ready to see me without it.  Then he told me that he is ok with it because he still knows it’s me because it’s my face, my voice, and I act like me.  It almost made me cry but I wanted him to see that I’m ok. 

8/3/2011 Chemo: Cycle 4 and some other updates

I’ve gotten lazy with updating this blog. This is the post wherein I will summarize the last 2 cycles very briefly and post some other updates in my life.  I will hopefully update in real-time about today’s Cycle #4!

At 9am this morning, My dad drove S and I to the de ja vu that was June 1^st.  This time, though, we shed no tears (other than the tears of happiness that my brand new Android phone was delivered!).  Funny enough, there was a man sitting in the chair next to mine who was there for his first cycle of chemo.  He was there with his wife.  The volunteer lady, of course, showed up as she did on my first day, and filled them in on a bunch of info.  I also I told them they that if they had any questions they could definitely ask me as I am currently in treatment.  Later on, I heard the wife remind the husband that I had mentioned that chemo wasn’t really as scary as I expected it to be.  I feel like I helped assuage some of their stress and that feels really good.  I learned that the husband had served in Vietnam (but not in battle) and lost several friends in 9/11, even some of his co-workers at his firehouse.  He’s already been through so much stuff that this addition doesn’t seem fair at all. Ugh, life.

Well, Cycle 4, done.

Right now, I’m currently at home, ‘resting’.  I’m trying to keep hydrated and stay calm.  I really must get a handle on this post-chemo anxiety. So far, it’s working. (Please let this not be a jinx!)

I really thought I had gained a bit of weight this week because of all of my snacking, but I weigh the same as I did last week.

This is random but for my own records, I suppose.  At the time I found the lump, I weighed around 167 lbs.

On 5/4/11, (the day before surgery) I weighed 165 lbs.

6/1/11- First day of Chemo, I weighed 164 lbs.

6/7/11- 1 week after chemo, I weighed 158 lbs.

I’ve pretty much been steady at 161 ever since then.

So, I guess it means that chocolate chip cookies, ice cream, and other various snacks are here to stay? Ha ha. I really am eating healthier these days, though, aside from that.  I also drink green tea (with honey. Cold from the fridge).  I recently learned about Conjugated linoleic acid.  Interesting stuff. 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conjugated_linoleic_acid  

"In 1979, researchers from the University of Wisconsin applied a beef
extract to mice skin. The mice were then exposed to a strong
carcinogen. When the researchers counted the number of tumors
developed by the mice 16 weeks later, they found, to their surprise,
that the mice exposed to the beef extract had 20% fewer tumors. The
identity of this anti-carcinogen was not discovered until almost a
decade later in 1987."

Anyone know where I can get my hands on some kangaroo meat?! (Yes, I’m kidding.)

Ok, now for the updates of Cycles 2 and 3.

(BEEP, BEEP… some TMI ahead- re: side effects)

Cycle 2 went a lot more smoothly than cycle 1 in regards to side effects. I had minor taste changes that only lasted a few days, some of those pesky mouth ‘sores’ (They’re like very mild canker sores.  And, I rinsed with baking soda several times a day).  My favorite, though, was the three week long period. That’s always fun.

Cycle 3 was ok. I had some minor rib and back pains and the taste change… etc. I’ve also begun to notice some twitching below my right eye and also in my lower abdomen, too.  I asked my doctor about it today and he said that sometimes chemo has some temporary neurological effects but that I shouldn’t worry.

Although, something unusual did occur. A full week after cycle 3’s chemo, I felt a little odd as I went in for my white blood cell boost iv.  My sister came with me and everything went fine.  I was a little anxious, but that’s nothing new.  We went out to eat lunch and a nearby sushi place.  I was surprised that I was able to eat that much because my appetite had been a little low for that week up until then.  We even got some frozen yogurt since it was so hot outside that day.  We shared a cab and headed to our respective workplaces.  The next day, Thursday, I felt a little weak when I woke up and got ready for work.  I drank my glass of green tea and made myself some toast with butter to bring with me for breakfast. I drank some Gatorade and then when lunch time (around 1pm or so) rolled around and I realized that I should eat something since it had been hours since my light breakfast. I was feeling anxious and since I’m almost always alone in the office/and even in the building most days, that didn’t help me calm down.  I tried to eat my turkey sandwich but I couldn’t get it near my face.  It was so unappealing.  I guess that added to my anxiety and then I fell apart. (WARNING) Then I had my second time of being sick. (Something about the word ‘vomit’ really grosses me out.)

I called my mother and she helped me calm down a bit.  We realized that my sister wasn’t working that day, so I called her.  She came over and sat with me in my office until my third and fourth times (ahem) came along.  (So, So, Sorry you had to witness that, J!) Then, we took a cab home at around 4pm because I needed to go home and sleep.  This was around the time that I realized I had anti-nausea pills that my doctor prescribed.  I’m smart.  I was nervous to take it but I figured this was a time where it was appropriate.

Sis and Misha (M.A) fed me mashed potatoes and put me to bed.  I was nervous about being home alone the next morning but Misha went out of his way to come by early in the morning and spend time with me. He brought me an egg sandwich and we watched and made fun of day time talk shows such as Maury/Jerry Springer/Court shows until J came home.  Thank you so much, Misha. It really meant a lot.

A new hairstyle indeed!

I don’t remember exactly when this was but probably about a week after my first chemo infusion, I decided to cut my hair to help ease myself into the eventual balding that was to come!  My sister was armed with a comb, a pair of sharp scissors, and my permission to do practically whatever she wanted to my hair.  Being the nice and loving sister that she is, she exercised great mercy on my vanity by giving me a lovely shoulder length style. Thanks, J! <3

I had done some research on the internet, to try and find out just how long the chemo takes to mess with one’s hair.  Most of the info I found confirmed that it takes just about 2-4 weeks for the shedding to begin.  Just about 2.5 weeks into my (chemo) cycle I started noticing some hair loss.  I have (had) very thick hair, so shedding is nothing new to me.  Just ask “S”.  (SORRY!!)  A few hairs on the bathroom sink, a few on my pillow in the morning… no big deal.  A few days later, though, it started to get more stressful as it became more noticeable.  A bunch of loose hairs on my T-shirt, a receding part in my hair, dry, brittle hair that lost its shine…  This was not my hair.  I decided to take matters into my own hands, well, into the trusty hands of S and my sister.

On the night of Monday, 6/20/11, they took me through decades’ of hairstyles.  The 1920’s ‘flapper’ look, the 1950’s, German school boy look (that’s the proper historical term, of course)… all the way up to the 1980’s Mohawk!  Unfortunately, that didn’t turn out too well (stay tuned for photos…? Can you guys handle it?)  And then, I was bald.

6/11/11- The American Cancer Society's Relay for Life- at Ikea in Brooklyn

On Saturday 6/11/11, Ikea sponsored the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life.  I had been thinking about doing a breast cancer walk for a while, now, but somehow never got around to it.  This is the year, I decided.  I mostly wanted to do it to celebrate the fact that my grandmother and her sister were both survivors.  I found out that my sister’s place of employment had put together a team, so that made it all that much easier to participate.  My sister and I registered for the relay the day before I got my diagnosis, so while my initial intentions were to walk for my grandmother, it did feel rather empowering to be able to support the cause just one week into my own chemotherapy!

I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of the people who donated and/or came out to support me/the cause on that day.  It was a bit rainy and chilly but we still had a good time.  Thank you all, it really meant a lot to me! (Specifically, I want to thank my parents, sister, S.D., S, R.F and her little dudes: ETT and BLT, and…. who can forget M.F.P!)

6/3/11- This IS my hair. I bought it.

The next day, I had an appointment at the American Cancer Society’s office at Grand Army Plaza to try on wigs.

What a weird thing to have to do.

I woke up that morning feeling a little weak, but mostly fine.  I couldn’t really eat much but I carried around a huge bottle of water.  I should mention that was the day I awoke to my first side effect: A bunch of spots on my neck (acne).  Emotionally, I felt ok, until I took a seat in the office and noticed all the boxes of wigs around the room.  It really hit home, then, that I will actually be needed to use one sometime very soon.  Not all chemo medications cause hair loss, but my doctors assured me that the ones I am on do! (Sorry for the spoiler, but I’m bald as I sit here typing this entry.) The lady who worked there excused herself for a few moments.  My sister offered me a granola bar to which I responded by bawling and starting to hyperventilate. Hey, I have my moments!

The woman, C, came back into the room carrying so very many boxes…. of wigs… for me to try on.  At the time, my hair went down to about the middle of my back, so we had to figure out how to tie my hair back so that we could see what the wigs would look like on me.  She put a stocking cap on my head and we tried on a bunch of different styles of wigs.  Short ones, long ones, even a Tina Turner one (no joke.  She said she makes everyone try that one on for fun).  She handed me a longish, curly, black wig, so I put it on.  “Aw!” Said, C, “You look just like... Snow White!”  That was not what I was expecting her to say and it was definitely not the look I was going for.

To make a long story short, the windowless room was getting too stuffy, I was anxious, I hated nearly all the wigs, so I just settled for a shoulder length one that was very close to my own hair color.  Hey, it’s free.  I’ll worry about this stuff later on.

My dad and I dropped my sister off at work and on the way home I had my 2^nd side effect.  (WARNING- MINOR TMI APPROACHING) In a moving vehicle, I had to throw up. It’s funny how the medication works, because it somehow keeps me from feeling nauseous, but I still felt an odd sensation where I knew that I’d have to vomit.

The next few days, I mostly just rested at home.  On Saturday night, the day after the wig fitting, I started getting really sharp pains on my back and sides of my ribs.  These were very sharp, stabbing, pains.  Quite scary at the time.  I figured out a way where if I laid down on the floor and stretched my body, the pains decreased a bit.  This lasted for about 2 or so hours.   I later found out those pains were caused by the Neulasta injection as I mentioned before.

My next appointment was the following Tuesday.  I came armed with a handwritten sheet full of side effects.  I found out I had lost 8 pounds since the previous Wednesday.  Any other time, I would have been excited, but seeing as how this was only my first cycle of chemo, I was really worried.  On that day, I received my shorter, half hour long, infusion of Herceptin, which is just the brand name of “Trastuzumab” which “is in a class of medications called monoclonal antibodies. It works by stopping the growth of cancer cells.”

So, I get my chemo infusions once every 3 weeks… and during the filler weeks, I get a dose of the antibodies medication.

Finally… Round one, done.

6-2-11 An injection and not such a fun surprise

Less than 24 hours after the chemo, I’m back at the office.  Luckily, it’s just for a few minutes so that I can get my injection of Neulasta which boosts up my platelet levels that the chemo has just decreased.  It does so by making my bones release platelets through the marrow, or something like that.  I’m not really allowed to google these things, (I’m sheltering myself) so my knowledge is rather limited. On that note, I did, however, find out that the Neulasta is apparently made with E. Coli. Fun stuff!)

Since I was feeling pretty well these past couple of days, I figured I must be one of the lucky ones, so rather than go home, I went to the mechanic with my dad.  The nurses did mention that I should eat and drink before and after each of my infusions and injections, but I figured that since I don’t really have much of an appetite so early in the day, it would be fine to just pick up a bagel near the office.  I ate said bagel on the way to the mechanic, sat there for about 40 min.  As I mentioned before, I was very tense and anxious during that first week.  My throat hurt when I swallowed and it felt slightly difficult to breathe.  My mother suggested that I stop in at her office and have a check up with the physician assistant.  I was hoping that if she could tell me that my lungs sounded clear, my brain would follow suit and then I could finally relax.  That was the plan.

My dad drove me to my mom’s workplace and waited in the car out front.  I stopped in to say hello to some of the staff and to ensure them that I was doing fine.  Then, I made my way upstairs to see my mother who offered me some lunch, which I declined.  We were just about to head downstairs to see the physician assistant when suddenly I felt “weird”.  I remember telling my mom that I needed to just lie down on the floor.  She put me in her desk chair and leaned my head onto herself.  I felt dizzy and the day light shining through the windows seemed too bright.  My mother offered me a chocolate covered pomegranate which I didn’t take because it seemed too difficult to chew.  “You turned down chocolate?!” said my mom, “Now I know something’s not right!” 

The quiet room I had just stood in suddenly held so many people. Two physician assistants, one doctor, and several other staff members all stood around me as I sat in one chair and had my feet up on another.  My mother held a cold compress on my forehead and gave me some cold water; someone else handed over some mint candies.  I started feeling much better but felt so embarrassed that all these people were called on the overhead speaker to come tend to me.  This whole episode lasted less than 5 minutes, but I was pretty scary.  Let’s just say I learned my lesson and I always eat and drink before any of my appointments.

Chemo: Cycle 1 (Of an approximate total of 6).

Before this, all I knew about Chemotherapy came from watching movies and TV shows.  I distinctly remember the oldest brother on “Party of Five,” had to go through it because he had Leukemia.  On “Sex and the City,” Samantha dealt with breast cancer, as well.  They showed her having hot flashes and shaving her head.

I had no idea what chemo really was or how they administer it.  My biggest fear was that I’d be “that sick girl.”  You know, the one who is bald and has dark circles under her eyes and just looks skeletally skinny… My chemo is for preventative reasons, so I felt like all this was just so unfair!  Why do I have to go through all this if they were able to remove the entire lump?

Well, let me put you guys at ease.  Real life is nothing (ok, it’s just barely similar enough) to what they show on TV.  TV shows and movies play on our emotions to get their ratings.  The truth isn’t as exciting.

S. told me that he would take a couple of days off from work to come with me to my first chemo appointment.  My father (Super-dad who has driven me to EVERY single one of my appointments, thus far!!) picked us up and drove us to the chemo center.  S. is really good with the pep-talks.  He’s been keeping me grounded in reality.  Whenever my imagination or fears threaten to pull me away, he reminds me of how things really are.

So, that day (June 1^st, 2011), I was doing ok during that 15 minute car ride.  I watched the people who were walking on the sidewalk, going about their day as usual, while I was being taken to a place I’d never even imagined I’d have to go.  I took a deep breath to calm myself down.  I was ok.  My dad stopped the car in front of the center and told me to call him when I found out how long this session was going to take.  I’d heard that it could take hours for the chemo infusion.  Suddenly, it really hit me that I was in a car parked outside of a medical office where they’d do god knows what and fill my body with strange chemicals that have potentially nasty side effects! I felt like a prisoner who is forced to walk himself towards his own guillotine. (Ok, yes, I was being melodramatic… but that shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.)  I noticed tears forming in my father’s eyes when he realized that I was about to hyperventilate.  That scared me more than the chemo.  I didn’t want him to worry about me.  I was worrying enough for all of us put together.  I picked myself up, told him I was ok, gave him a hug and walked towards the center.

Once inside, my puffy, red, eyes told the receptionist that today was my first day of chemo.  She told me to take a seat in chair # 8.  This visit gets a little fuzzy because my heart was beating out of my chest and so many different people came to talk to me…   

Basically, the way it works is that when I walk in, they weigh me, take blood from the tip of my finger, take my temperature, and measure my pulse and blood pressure.  Once the blood test results come in (about 5 or 10 min later), they start the IV.  They won’t start anything until my heart rate is at or near normal resting levels. 

They give me some sort of saline solution (Sodium bicarbonate, I think)…and various other drugs to prevent nausea and some other things.  Then, they finally start with the first (of 3) drugs.  Each baggie is labeled with my name/date of birth/etc, and the nurse who is taking care of me that day asks me to confirm this information and tells me the name of the particular drug before she will hook the bag up to my IV.  I’ve been going there for 1-2 days a week for over a month now, and they still do this.  Can’t be too careful! In total, the infusion part takes about 4 hours.  They let the medicines drip at a slow rate so as not to overwhelm my body.

Once the first drug begins, about 5-10 minutes into it, I start to feel like there’s something heavy on my chest.  I get a little light-headed and anxious. (This explains why they have recliners for the patients to sit/lay down in.)  For the first 2 of my chemo sessions, at least, this part only lasts for a few minutes and then my breathing gets easier again.  Actually, that’s not true of the first session. I was very anxious, so it was hard to tell if the difficulty breathing was coming from that or being caused by the medication…  that lasted for about 2-3 days until I was finally able to relax.

I usually spend the time watching TV, reading a book or magazine, or talking to my dad... or the volunteer woman who always has a lot to say! When all the meds are done, the nurse usually asks if I’d like to finish the bag of liquids, which I usually accept, because it’s always good to be super hydrated.  I can never seem to drink as much as I’m apparently supposed to. Then, I get to leave!

A warning of sorts...

I guess this is the part where the story gets a little more graphic/detailed, so I need to warn you all that there may be some “TMI” (Too much information) enclosed.

 I haven’t fully decided just yet where I want to go with this blog.  In a way, I am writing this to keep my friends updated about my ‘adventure’.  I know that some people may feel uncomfortable asking questions or asking how I am doing.  I mean, you never know what kind of answer you’ll get when you ask someone about how they’re feeling. I figured if I write it here, those of you who are curious but uncomfortable asking can just read about it here anonymously.  That’s fine with me! 

I’ve also been thinking about people I don’t know…. If they manage to find their way to this blog, and they’re about to go through chemo themselves or have a family member or friend who is, it might be nice to read about someone else’s experience, so they’ll know what to expect.  In the latter case, these extra details would be very beneficial. Not all my side effects, thus far, have been terribly unpleasant… but some are just not fun to hear about (or experience them, but, yeah.). 

So, this is my ‘disclaimer’….  If you think you’d rather not deal with the personal details of my experience because that would be too awkward, I’d understand if you stop reading here.  But for the rest of you… here we go!

A very long week

5/23/11:  Met Dr. L.  He strongly suggested chemo, followed by radiation, and then, hormone therapy.  Date of chemo part 1: June 1^st.  That left me with a little over a week to make the rounds with all my other doctors. 

I had at least one appointment every weekday (and Sunday) thereafter. It wasn’t fun but I am so thankful to all the people who gave me very quick, last minute appointments so that I could be all set by June 1.

5/26/11:

PET scan done.

5/31/11:

MUGA scan done.

The Diagnosis:

I was set to see Dr. D on 5/3, about a week after he came back from his vacation, but got a phone call on 4/28 from his receptionist saying that he is suggesting that I get a mammogram done and bring the films with me to my next appointment. I rushed to make an appointment as soon as I could, but the only one they had available was 5/2.

5/2/11:

Mammogram appointment.  The technician walked into the room and asked, “Why are you here?” Uh, because there’s a lump…  What is it with this office?  First mammo ever: Done.

5/3/11:

Appointment with Dr. D.  Mom came with me, this time.  He called us into his office, and not into the exam room…. Dun Dun Dun!  Stage I breast cancer.  It’s official.  The mammo came back negative (because the lump was way higher up on my chest, and did not fit into the machine.  Dr. said they’re only about 80% accurate, I think… did not know this!) but the biopsy was positive.

I will never forget what he said next.  He said that surgery would be required but that he would not have to remove the whole breast. It hadn’t even occurred to me up until that point that there was a possibility that parts of my body would have to be removed! Thankfully, I’m still in one full piece: minus lump.  We talked about a possible surgery date for the following week then Dr. D said he might be available to do the surgery this same week and that if I was interested he would look into it. YES, sir! And, so, my surgery was set for Thursday, 2 days later!!!

5/4/11:

Pre-surgery testing. All the usual tests.  Blood drawn, blood pressure, temperature, pee in a cup, etc. 

5/5/11:

Today was my grandmother’s 90^th birthday!  Where was I at 6 am? At the hospital with my mom… preparing for surgery. What was the last stop before the O.R.?  The nuclear testing room, of course.  I got a very sharp and painful injection in my boob. It was a radioactive dye that would help my Dr. see if the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes under my arm.  I was told that he would remove a few nodes, do a quick test on them and if they were negative, he’d close up the spot and that would be the end of it.  But, if they were positive, he would have to remove them all from under my left arm… insert a drain, and then I would have to stay overnight at the hospital.

Finally, 4 hours later, surgery began… next thing I know, I’m waking up from the anesthesia. First face I saw: Dr. D.  “How are you feeling?” He asked. “Did you remove all my lymph nodes?!” was what came out of my mouth.  “No, we tested them and they were negative!”… Satisfied, I fell back asleep.

I slept for a couple more hours and then was released to go home.  Walking out of the hospital felt good.  I made a quick stop to my grandmother’s apartment for birthday celebrations with my mom, sister, and S.  I wanted her to see that I was ok!

5/10/11:

Visit with Dr. D who said that the surgery went well.  He removed the bandage/padding.

5/17/11:

Dr. Dr removed the stitches. He referred me to Dr. L, hematologist/oncologist.

.... From the begining, shall we?

I've waited so long to start this blog and now I have so much to go back and post.  This is going to be a long one! Grab your popcorn. Ready? Here we go!


Warning to friends: This story gets a bit personal... I mean, I need to use the word “breast”.  Let’s be mature about this! Ok, I’ll probably end up using “boob,” because “breast” makes me giggle. Please don't look at me weird when you see me in person. Thanks!

So, where do we begin?

3/14/2011:

While getting ready for bed, I took off the most expensive bra I own. It’s also the least comfortable bra I own. Funny how that works, isn’t it? That darn thing makes me feel so sore, why did I buy it?  I touched my right hand to the top of the left side of my chest where it felt sore.  Wait, what’s this? I felt a large bump about the size of a marble.  I tried to stay calm and called over S.  He thinks (knows) I’m rather hypochondriac-ish, so he came over and told me not to worry.  But, he felt the lump, too. It was most definitely there.  But I have nothing to worry about, right?  I’m a healthy 30 year old woman.   There’s no way this could be anything serious.  Except, I have a family history of Breast Cancer.  Hyperventilation ensues.  One phone call to my mom, who also thinks (KNOWS) how I am… she told me she would make an appointment with a specialist in the morning. I went to sleep and tried to keep busy at work the next morning.

3/15/11:

Super-Mom called me to let me know that I need to be at the Dr’s office at 4pm.  I made plans to leave work early… and showed up at Dr. D’s office on time.  One awkward exam later…. and Dr. thought it was probably just a cyst or something. I really have no idea what he was saying because my brain was moving 100miles an hour.  He suggested that I get an ultrasound/sonogram of the area, though, just to be safe.

3/24/11:

The girls at the ultrasound place kept staring at the screen and frowning at it and making sounds that were making me worry. What do they know, anyway? Ultrasound: Done.

4/14/11:

Back to visit Dr. D, again, sister in tow.  He took a biopsy, though, for further testing. Large, pointy needle. (The first needle of many!) “I wouldn’t lose sleep over it,” said the Dr.