I mentioned earlier today that I didn't want to update my blog when I was feeling depressed, because I didn't want to bring down the world around me. A friend reminded me that this blog is to document how I feel and I'm not here to entertain people with "rainbow farts and unicorns." I laughed my head off and then I thought yeah, she's right. Maybe this will be therapeutic for me.
For the most part, things have been going well lately. Chemo has been uneventful, which is the best you can hope for. Sure I'm tired, have a few aches and pains, and a bald head, but I feel like I'm living a pretty normal life. My counts have been decent and my infusions have all gone as scheduled which is what I want.
I'll go along feeling OK, feeling optimistic, and then I'll read a story. I have been following a bunch of stories on Facebook in recent months about young people with cancer. One was the infamous Talia, a girl whose story touched the entire country. Another was a local guy, a ultra marathon runner who had stage 4 brain cancer. Another was a guy in one of my online cancer support groups-30 years old, a non-smoker, with stage 4 lung cancer. Those are just a few of the stories. Well lately everyone has lost their battle. These are young people who fought for so long and had thousands of people rallying behind them, yet cancer still took them. I find myself sobbing, my heart broken for the family and children they had to leave, the life they missed out on. When you are healthy, you read these stories and you sympathize with the family members. When you have been diagnosed with cancer you read these stories and you empathize with the dying patient. These people, the ones who have passed, were amazing people, people who changed the world and did great things with their lives, far better people than me. Why would I be spared if they weren't? It's a stupid question, but one that creeps into my mind anyway. I know that none of these stories were mine, in fact, none of these people even had my kind of cancer. But cancer is cancer and it kills people and I have been reminded of it too often lately.
So that's what has been weighing me down. That said, there is always a story of hope to pick me back up. Recently my husband has been traveling to Indiana for work. He always tries to make it back home to come to my Friday chemo appointments with me. While at the factory he was working at he mentioned going home for chemo and a woman stopped him and asked him what type of cancer his wife had. Here, she too had breast cancer at age 32 and went through chemotherapy. She was now 39 years old and cancer free. These are the stories I cling to. One of my favorites that I have saved on my phone is a woman who was diagnosed when her son was a few months old. She went through extensive treatments and was told that the cancer would probably come back. To this day she is cancer free, and her "baby" is now 32 years old. I have no reason to believe that I won't be telling the same story!
Oh another thing that really burns me up-literally-is chemopause. Chemotherapy puts a woman into menopause, hence the term chemopause. It's actually a really good thing. If my ovaries aren't working, then they aren't producing estrogen aka cancer juice. I want this chemopause, in fact once it's over, I will probably seek out menopause through shots that shut down the ovaries or by getting my ovaries removed. While I think my oncologist thinks that this is extreme at my age, I personally feel that it is essential to beating this disease. So menopause is something I need to get used to, and it takes a whole lot of getting used to. Hot flashes are no joke! My friend Margo calls them a "personal summer". My least favorite season. I keep the fan on full blast at night so I can kick off the covers, covered in sweat, only to have to bundle up minutes later when it passes. Luckily (or unluckily?) they mostly happen at night, so while I don't ever have a restful sleep, I don't have to worry about being a huge sweaty pig in front of many people.
Speaking of pigs, I am so bummed out about this constant weight gain. I knew this was a threat, that most women gain weight on chemotherapy for breast cancer, but it doesn't make looking at the constantly moving scale any easier. It reminds me so much of when I was pregnant, although I could blame some of the increase on the growing baby and I knew that I could breast feed to lose the weight. Now I don't even have breasts! What the hell?! Is this really my life?
That's something I've said a lot lately. You really do adapt to shitty situations but then all of a sudden, the reality of it all hits you and it's just too much to think on. Cigna informed me yesterday that they have approved me for Long Term Disability. I need to fill out a lot of paperwork and my employer also requires that I file for Social Security if I'm going out on LTD. Social Security? I didn't know I was 70. Excuse me while I have a hot flash. Is this really my life?
Tissue expanders. I am now rocking about 500 cc's of saline in my rock hard chest. I really worry that I'm going to knock the wind out of people when I hug them. It's actually kind of comical, as my new "foobs" are a couple inches higher than my old set. So a bunch of shirts that used to be low cut and cleavage baring, now fully expose a foob. My implant exchange is a year away so I better get used to it. Until then, I dream of soft squishy implants at night, in between hot flashes.
I'll end on a good note. My hair is growing! Everywhere. I actually have to shave my legs on the regular again! That sucks but it's nice to do something normal. The hair on my head increases every day and I'm hopeful that by the end of chemo, I actually look like I have hair, even if it's just the G.I. Jane look. It's strange to me that my hair is growing on chemo (what happened to destroying rapidly dividing cells?) but I heard that this happens often with Taxol so I'll take it!
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
The Year Mark
This day last year I noticed my dads oxygen levels were getting lower despite being on the full setting of the ventilator. This day last year was the beginning of the end and he passed two days later. It has been hard not to relive each day spent in the hospital over the last month, especially since I've spent some time in the same hospital for my own cancer treatments.
One thing that has been so strongly apparent to me is that I'm so happy to be where I'm at on this July 26th than where I was last year. That seems strange. My dad is gone now, I got cancer, I'm doing toxic treatments that will hopefully prevent this cancer from returning, although its no guarantee, and in the meantime could cause me secondary cancers, permanent heart damage, etc.Who the hell would want to be here!? Well, there is nothing worse than watching a loved one pass away, and to be able to do nothing about it, to feel completely helpless. This year, the burden is mine, this cancer-I own it. It's so much easier to feel in control of a situation when the situation is yours to control. I was a different person at this time last year. I was so innocent, so ignorant, my life was so easy up until that point. This year I am hardened, toughened, and my shell is callused. I no longer freak out over the small things and let them consume me because I know what real pain is and I know what the big things are. I also know that you can live through real pain, survive it, and get stronger. Prior to my father's illness, back in the sunshine and rainbow filled first 32.5 years of my life, I used to pray to God to grant me an easy time here on Earth. Please spare me from losing my loved ones before they are old and grey, please spare me from major illness. "I'm not strong enough to handle things like that, God." I said. Out loud. On more than one occaission. But my life's path had plans to show me that I was strong. And my situation this year is mine to control, and finally, I know that I am strong enough to to handle the hard things.
I wonder what my dad would think of my situation. If he were here I think he'd be strong, I think he would comfort my mom, and I think he'd bring comic relief. I still think he does those things. I feel comfort right now, sitting in this hospital bed and getting a chemo infusion. Last year at this time I would stand by his bed and talk to him but I didn't know if he heard me. This year, I know he does.
I miss you every single minute of every single day, Dad. This has been the hardest year of my life, and filled with more pain than I could have ever imagined. I've spent the last year trying to make sense of your death. But if I believe that it was so that you could watch over me and guide me, then it makes the pain bearable. The day I see you again in Heaven will be a glorious one, but I hope it's not for at least 40 more years.
One thing that has been so strongly apparent to me is that I'm so happy to be where I'm at on this July 26th than where I was last year. That seems strange. My dad is gone now, I got cancer, I'm doing toxic treatments that will hopefully prevent this cancer from returning, although its no guarantee, and in the meantime could cause me secondary cancers, permanent heart damage, etc.Who the hell would want to be here!? Well, there is nothing worse than watching a loved one pass away, and to be able to do nothing about it, to feel completely helpless. This year, the burden is mine, this cancer-I own it. It's so much easier to feel in control of a situation when the situation is yours to control. I was a different person at this time last year. I was so innocent, so ignorant, my life was so easy up until that point. This year I am hardened, toughened, and my shell is callused. I no longer freak out over the small things and let them consume me because I know what real pain is and I know what the big things are. I also know that you can live through real pain, survive it, and get stronger. Prior to my father's illness, back in the sunshine and rainbow filled first 32.5 years of my life, I used to pray to God to grant me an easy time here on Earth. Please spare me from losing my loved ones before they are old and grey, please spare me from major illness. "I'm not strong enough to handle things like that, God." I said. Out loud. On more than one occaission. But my life's path had plans to show me that I was strong. And my situation this year is mine to control, and finally, I know that I am strong enough to to handle the hard things.
I wonder what my dad would think of my situation. If he were here I think he'd be strong, I think he would comfort my mom, and I think he'd bring comic relief. I still think he does those things. I feel comfort right now, sitting in this hospital bed and getting a chemo infusion. Last year at this time I would stand by his bed and talk to him but I didn't know if he heard me. This year, I know he does.
I miss you every single minute of every single day, Dad. This has been the hardest year of my life, and filled with more pain than I could have ever imagined. I've spent the last year trying to make sense of your death. But if I believe that it was so that you could watch over me and guide me, then it makes the pain bearable. The day I see you again in Heaven will be a glorious one, but I hope it's not for at least 40 more years.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Hanging In There
This Friday will be Taxol/Herceptin treatment #4! We are moving right along. I'm a little nervous about my white blood counts. As I mentioned before, when I was on AC treatment, I got the Neulasta shot which boosts my white blood cells to help me fight infection. It worked awesomely. With weekly Taxol they don't give the Neulasta shot because its not as bad on your blood counts as Adriamycin and Cytoxan. Last week before Taxol #3 my WBC was 2.3 and the week before it was 3.2. So it's steadily going down. I'm not sure at what point they postpone chemo but I hope I don't hit it...I just want to get this over with and start getting my life back to normal. Please pray that my blood counts maintain and I am able to do my chemo as scheduled and also that I avoid any infections. Last year at this time, my dad was in the ICU with sepsis and Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome. This was brought on by him being on immune suppressing drugs. Needless to say, I've seen what can happen to immune suppressed people and it terrifies me but I know that my Dad is my guardian angel and keeping me strong!
I have been so blessed to have such strong and amazing women beside me in my fight. During my second chemo treatment I was surprised by two of my survivor girlfriends, Renee and Margo. They showed up looking beautiful and turned my chemo room into a party, complete with all of Renee's wigs from when she went through chemo. I spent the morning trying on wigs and laughing with my friends who had fought cancer, and made it look like a fool. I am so blessed to have these examples of what strength and cancer ass kicking means. This past week, I was lucky to have my friend Amanda getting her treatment at the same time that I did. Amanda is 30 years old and was diagnosed just days after me. We've gone through everything together in this journey and I'd be lost if I didn't have someone who knew exactly what I was going through because they were going through it too, at the exact same time. When I made myself at home on my chemo bed last week, I looked across the hall and saw two young women talking , one of whom had her back to me. Turns out it was my friend Nichole, another survivor, and one whose advice to me was priceless early in my diagnosis. She was visiting her friend Hope who was from out of town but getting her Herceptin treatment at Hershey. Hope is a beautiful mother of 4 who was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. She has had significant improvement in her cancer from her treatments but was recently diagnosed with a tumor in her brain which I have no doubt will be successfully treated too. We got to chat for a while and she was such a wealth of knowledge, positivity, and no pun intended, hope. Please pray for each of these women that I've mentioned...they have been sn inspiration to me and deserve nothing but health and happiness.
Thank you to everyone who has donated to my Making Strides Against Breast Cancer team!! I hope that a bunch of people will be able to walk with me on October 19th. I'm thinking of having a big fat pink party afterwards :-)
I have been so blessed to have such strong and amazing women beside me in my fight. During my second chemo treatment I was surprised by two of my survivor girlfriends, Renee and Margo. They showed up looking beautiful and turned my chemo room into a party, complete with all of Renee's wigs from when she went through chemo. I spent the morning trying on wigs and laughing with my friends who had fought cancer, and made it look like a fool. I am so blessed to have these examples of what strength and cancer ass kicking means. This past week, I was lucky to have my friend Amanda getting her treatment at the same time that I did. Amanda is 30 years old and was diagnosed just days after me. We've gone through everything together in this journey and I'd be lost if I didn't have someone who knew exactly what I was going through because they were going through it too, at the exact same time. When I made myself at home on my chemo bed last week, I looked across the hall and saw two young women talking , one of whom had her back to me. Turns out it was my friend Nichole, another survivor, and one whose advice to me was priceless early in my diagnosis. She was visiting her friend Hope who was from out of town but getting her Herceptin treatment at Hershey. Hope is a beautiful mother of 4 who was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. She has had significant improvement in her cancer from her treatments but was recently diagnosed with a tumor in her brain which I have no doubt will be successfully treated too. We got to chat for a while and she was such a wealth of knowledge, positivity, and no pun intended, hope. Please pray for each of these women that I've mentioned...they have been sn inspiration to me and deserve nothing but health and happiness.
Thank you to everyone who has donated to my Making Strides Against Breast Cancer team!! I hope that a bunch of people will be able to walk with me on October 19th. I'm thinking of having a big fat pink party afterwards :-)
Friday, June 28, 2013
Taxol/Herceptin #1 down!
I'm sitting in Infusion Bed 20, which has a nice view of the gardens and we got to watch the rain. Today is really dragging though. Blood draw was at 11 am-that was delayed, oncologist appointment at 12 noon-that was delayed. Everything looked good to the doc, white count was an astonishing 25! We can definitely say that the Neulasta shot works! It better had for $5000. $5000 for a shot that i had 4 times...$20,000 in shots! I hear it costs more than the chemo drugs. Anyway, I asked the doc if I could eat sushi light of my high count and she said yes. After that appointment Eric and I went to The Hershey Grill over at the Hershey Lodge and I had an awesome coconut chicken salad! I have been shying away from salads because they say to if you are immune compromised. But now that I know that the Neulasta is working overtime, I think it's safe and it was worth it! How can I go a summer without salads, that's insane!
Weekly Taxol doesn't require the Neulasta shot afterwards so I will have to be more careful with my germ exposure now that I won't have anything helping me along. Taxol is supposed to be easier than AC, according to everyone. The things to look for are numbness and pain in fingers and toes. People can have trouble doing buttons, counting change, etc. I need to let them know if I experience any of those things. I may also have bone pain and muscle aches. And don't forget the risk of heart failure! I am praying that these next 12 weeks are uneventful!
There's a woman across the hall who is having a LAST DAY OF CHEMO PARTY!! I'm so excited for her. Everyone is wearing shirts with lime green ribbons so I looked online to see what cancer that was and it says Non-hodgkins lymphoma. I hope she is cancer free now and stays that way! I can't wait to hear the bell ring. Update: totally cried when she rang it.
Nothing new is going on with me. I'm doing chemo, resting, playing with Harper, and gaining a stupid amount of weight. This is seriously like pregnancy, I'm literally gaining a pound each week. This whole chemo regime is 20 weeks so that could mean 20 pounds. I know that's a trivial complaint but I was really happy with myself after losing the baby weight and its just another reason why cancer is a dumb bitch who had to come here and *temporarily* mess up my life. I say temporarily because I've already let a bitch know that she's only allowed to screw with me in 2013 and after that I've got better things to do. Like growing my hair, living my life, kissing my baby, and doing anything I damn well please and everything I thought I could never do :-)
Weekly Taxol doesn't require the Neulasta shot afterwards so I will have to be more careful with my germ exposure now that I won't have anything helping me along. Taxol is supposed to be easier than AC, according to everyone. The things to look for are numbness and pain in fingers and toes. People can have trouble doing buttons, counting change, etc. I need to let them know if I experience any of those things. I may also have bone pain and muscle aches. And don't forget the risk of heart failure! I am praying that these next 12 weeks are uneventful!
There's a woman across the hall who is having a LAST DAY OF CHEMO PARTY!! I'm so excited for her. Everyone is wearing shirts with lime green ribbons so I looked online to see what cancer that was and it says Non-hodgkins lymphoma. I hope she is cancer free now and stays that way! I can't wait to hear the bell ring. Update: totally cried when she rang it.
Nothing new is going on with me. I'm doing chemo, resting, playing with Harper, and gaining a stupid amount of weight. This is seriously like pregnancy, I'm literally gaining a pound each week. This whole chemo regime is 20 weeks so that could mean 20 pounds. I know that's a trivial complaint but I was really happy with myself after losing the baby weight and its just another reason why cancer is a dumb bitch who had to come here and *temporarily* mess up my life. I say temporarily because I've already let a bitch know that she's only allowed to screw with me in 2013 and after that I've got better things to do. Like growing my hair, living my life, kissing my baby, and doing anything I damn well please and everything I thought I could never do :-)
Saturday, June 22, 2013
The Cancer Cut
I just realized I never blogged about my big head shave! When you think chemotherapy, you think bald heads so no doubt, being without hair was one of the first thoughts I had when I heard the words "it came back positive for cancer." And I miss my hair, do I ever miss my hair. It took so long to get it so long, and I always begged Morgan to only trim those split ends, don't take any length. Then I find myself asking her to chop it mid neck before surgery and then comes the day where I invite her over...with her razor. So yes, if I find a long blonde hair in my car, I've been known to cry. If I stumble across (or go looking for) old pictures of myself, the tears form. But living with a hairless head hasn't been as traumatic as expected, shaving if off wasn't the cryfest I thought it would be.
It was May 17th, that we did it. I just had my second chemo and the hair was falling fast. Morgan came over after treatment, we sat on the deck, and the shaving began. Harper cried at first. I think she thought Morgan was hurting me with the razor. I got to experience some short cuts on the way to buzzed, my favorite being a Mohawk. How many women get to have a Mohawk in their lives? Cross that off the bucket list! I have to admit, I was pumped full of chemo drugs and had a nice big Ativan so that probably helped to make the situation less stressful. But like most big things that have happened since recieving my cancer diagnosis, I somehow view this event in a detached out-of-body-experience sort of way. I have to remove myself a bit from things, in order to not fully understand the magnitude of what's happening.
But here it is! The evolution of my hair! A month in, and bald is getting boring but its nice to whip off a wig, hat, or scarf when it's hot and feel the breeze! Thank you Morgan for doing what was probably one of the most emotionally uncomfortable appointments of your career, but I think we made it a fun, not sad, time!
The evolution of my hair.
How it always has been. I loved having long hair and I was happier as a blonde. This is right before I got it cut short, prior to my mastectomy:
My new short hair cut! Very easy to handle after surgery. If you are having a bilateral mastectomy and have long hair, I really recommend an easy cut prior to surgery.
Then I decided to switch it up and go dark in the weeks before it fell out:
Then came the big shave...
It was May 17th, that we did it. I just had my second chemo and the hair was falling fast. Morgan came over after treatment, we sat on the deck, and the shaving began. Harper cried at first. I think she thought Morgan was hurting me with the razor. I got to experience some short cuts on the way to buzzed, my favorite being a Mohawk. How many women get to have a Mohawk in their lives? Cross that off the bucket list! I have to admit, I was pumped full of chemo drugs and had a nice big Ativan so that probably helped to make the situation less stressful. But like most big things that have happened since recieving my cancer diagnosis, I somehow view this event in a detached out-of-body-experience sort of way. I have to remove myself a bit from things, in order to not fully understand the magnitude of what's happening.
But here it is! The evolution of my hair! A month in, and bald is getting boring but its nice to whip off a wig, hat, or scarf when it's hot and feel the breeze! Thank you Morgan for doing what was probably one of the most emotionally uncomfortable appointments of your career, but I think we made it a fun, not sad, time!
The evolution of my hair.
How it always has been. I loved having long hair and I was happier as a blonde. This is right before I got it cut short, prior to my mastectomy:
Then came the big shave...
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Adios Red Devil!
On Friday June 14th I completed my final round of Adriamycin and Cytoxan! Round 4 was uneventful like I had hoped it would be. My oncologist and clinical study nurse marveled at how normal my blood work was, like a person who isn't even going through chemo. My oncologist told me that she feels like she isn't doing anything with me because the process has been so easy on me (except for all of my superficial complaints of weight gain, acne, and hair loss which when you're dealing with cancer, don't get much sympathy). After saying this, she shrugged her shoulders and turned to leave and I told her I hope I always make her want to shrug and leave because as a patient I'm a non event. Even though things have been "easy" for me so far, what really matters is that all of our appointments post treatment for the next 30 years are the easy ones. I'd put up with any hardship right now to sail through the rest of these oncology appointments for the rest of my life.
So I get pats on the back and escorted over to the infusion room by my proud clinical study nurse. I'm settled into my chair and my chemo nurse comes over to review my stats and comments on how high my white blood counts are. About to pat myself on the back again, she said "I never see them this high". So I sneak a peak and turn to Dr. google and yep, they are high, like infection high. But I feel fine! I spend a good amount of time stressing about this when luckily my clinical study nurse returns. I ask her about it and she says "oh yeah, it's high" and I'm all like "what's wrong with me, am I dying???" And she says "no, it just means that your Neulasta shot is working really well for you." Phew!!! Sometime during the day I sign up for the patient portal where I can view all my blood work results. Super bad idea for a hypochondriac, as now I have some other concerns that I need to bring up next treatment. When will I learn that ignorance is bliss?
The rest of the treatment went smooth and I felt ready to ring that bell to check off such a huge part of my chemo regimen. But alas, you can't ring until you're really done and I have 12 weekly Taxol/Herceptin combos in my future. I did witness a big chemo party across the hall as the lady finished her final infusion. Friends, flowers, happy nurses, bell ringing...will you come to my final chemo party??
So I get pats on the back and escorted over to the infusion room by my proud clinical study nurse. I'm settled into my chair and my chemo nurse comes over to review my stats and comments on how high my white blood counts are. About to pat myself on the back again, she said "I never see them this high". So I sneak a peak and turn to Dr. google and yep, they are high, like infection high. But I feel fine! I spend a good amount of time stressing about this when luckily my clinical study nurse returns. I ask her about it and she says "oh yeah, it's high" and I'm all like "what's wrong with me, am I dying???" And she says "no, it just means that your Neulasta shot is working really well for you." Phew!!! Sometime during the day I sign up for the patient portal where I can view all my blood work results. Super bad idea for a hypochondriac, as now I have some other concerns that I need to bring up next treatment. When will I learn that ignorance is bliss?
The rest of the treatment went smooth and I felt ready to ring that bell to check off such a huge part of my chemo regimen. But alas, you can't ring until you're really done and I have 12 weekly Taxol/Herceptin combos in my future. I did witness a big chemo party across the hall as the lady finished her final infusion. Friends, flowers, happy nurses, bell ringing...will you come to my final chemo party??
Monday, June 3, 2013
75% of the way done with A/C!
Today is three days post my third Adriamycin/Cytoxan chemo! This one seems to be hitting me harder than the first two, but I have still been lucky enough to have no nausea. It really just makes me extremely exhausted and achy, which I think is from the Neulasta shot.
I've had some rough days lately where I've let the dark thoughts creep in. I think due to the aches and pains that chemo brings, I've started to freak out that I have cancer in my bones and I have stage IV cancer. I never had any scans at my initial diagnosis except for a breast MRI and a chest x-ray and blood work prior to surgery. I never had a bone scan or PET scan to rule out distant metastases. Based on my stage of cancer and the limited lymph node involvement, it isn't common practice to scan unless there are symptoms that warrant them. And I don't want to ask for scans because they subject the body to unnecessary radiation and I don't think I could handle the "scanxiety" of waiting for the results. I just keep telling myself that feeling shitty is from my cancer treatment. It's hard to go from feeling normal while the cancer was in my body, to feeling so ill now that it's out. It's something I can't wrap my mind around yet. I need to keep reminding myself that the medicines are doing what they were created to do, get rid of every last cancer cell, and rejoice in the fact that my blood counts have been good and I have been able to get all of my treatments so far. The Neulasta shot that I get the day after every chemo treatment may cause a lot of bone pain, but it certainly does it's job. I caught a cold from Harper, my little petri dish, during round 2 and it was luckily just a regular cold. If you get a fever of 100.4 or above during chemotherapy it is considered a medical emergency and needs attention right away. I monitored myself through the whole illness and never got a fever, praise God.
So while I've been laying low and not doing anything too exciting, I do have something fun to report! On Memorial Day weekend, my in-laws hosted the 1st Annual River Games for the American Cancer Society. Cancer has touched our family in many ways, and luckily most of the people who have been touched are now survivors! I can't wait to celebrate my survivorship every year for the next 40 years of river games! There was a huge turn out of people and everyone had to pay $10 to play a day of backyard games: ladder golf, bocce ball, bean bags, and washer boards. There was plenty of delicious food and the weather was perfect.
Leading up to the games, I was hesitant to participate. I was so tired and beat down from chemo, being out in the sun didn't appeal to me, and after being laid up so much lately, I didn't know how I could muster up the energy to play a bunch of games I haven't been all that good at in the past. I asked Eric what team I was going to be on and he said I could be on his, but I sensed that he was hoping for a team of backyard game experts who were going to win. Our final team ended up being Eric, Ryan, Deb, and myself. And to my huge surprise, we won the tournament! We were up against so many people who regularly played these games, atheletic, college aged guys, etc. But our little team, the one with the cancer patient on it, won!! And I don't believe anyone was holding back just because I had a scarf on my head. This is something I am so proud of. Like I said, I wasn't even sure I was going to participate. I was going to sit inside, out of the sun, and rest my body. But I got out there and played all day and had a blast. Boy, was I sore for days afterwards but so was Eric so I think it had to do with being old, and not my cancer treatment.
I also just had a very successful Pampered Chef party in my neighborhood to raise money for my friend Nichole's Komen 3 Day Walk that she is doing this October. We raised $220 to go to her cause! My friend Katie is a Stella & Dot stylist and she did an online jewelry party for me, and the response has just blown my mind! The show did over $2200 in sales and raised over $340 towards my Making Strides Against Breast Cancer fundraising! I am SO THANKFUL to everyone who bought great cookware and jewelry in the name of a good cause! I hope you all love your things. This was SO FUN to be a part of and it took my mind off of obsessing about my cancer for a while and put my energy into thinking about fundraising will lead to research which will lead to better treatments and a cure so our kid's don't have to waste their time obsessing about their cancers.
So while things have been pretty low key here, involving lots of laying around and feeling blah, some really fun things have happened in the last few weeks. I'm looking forward to banging out round 4 of A/C on June 14th! That will be the last time Adriamycin ever cruises through my veins, as there is a lifetime limit to the amount you can have in your system, but more so due to the fact that this cancer won't be back to visit. Next stop is weekly Taxol and Herceptin treatments which is a bit more of a time commitment but is hopefully easier on the side effect front.
As always, THANK YOU so much for your prayers. We are doing really well, managing life through this bump in the road, and the only thing I ask is for prayers. They make more of a difference than any chemotherapy ever could.
I've had some rough days lately where I've let the dark thoughts creep in. I think due to the aches and pains that chemo brings, I've started to freak out that I have cancer in my bones and I have stage IV cancer. I never had any scans at my initial diagnosis except for a breast MRI and a chest x-ray and blood work prior to surgery. I never had a bone scan or PET scan to rule out distant metastases. Based on my stage of cancer and the limited lymph node involvement, it isn't common practice to scan unless there are symptoms that warrant them. And I don't want to ask for scans because they subject the body to unnecessary radiation and I don't think I could handle the "scanxiety" of waiting for the results. I just keep telling myself that feeling shitty is from my cancer treatment. It's hard to go from feeling normal while the cancer was in my body, to feeling so ill now that it's out. It's something I can't wrap my mind around yet. I need to keep reminding myself that the medicines are doing what they were created to do, get rid of every last cancer cell, and rejoice in the fact that my blood counts have been good and I have been able to get all of my treatments so far. The Neulasta shot that I get the day after every chemo treatment may cause a lot of bone pain, but it certainly does it's job. I caught a cold from Harper, my little petri dish, during round 2 and it was luckily just a regular cold. If you get a fever of 100.4 or above during chemotherapy it is considered a medical emergency and needs attention right away. I monitored myself through the whole illness and never got a fever, praise God.
So while I've been laying low and not doing anything too exciting, I do have something fun to report! On Memorial Day weekend, my in-laws hosted the 1st Annual River Games for the American Cancer Society. Cancer has touched our family in many ways, and luckily most of the people who have been touched are now survivors! I can't wait to celebrate my survivorship every year for the next 40 years of river games! There was a huge turn out of people and everyone had to pay $10 to play a day of backyard games: ladder golf, bocce ball, bean bags, and washer boards. There was plenty of delicious food and the weather was perfect.
Leading up to the games, I was hesitant to participate. I was so tired and beat down from chemo, being out in the sun didn't appeal to me, and after being laid up so much lately, I didn't know how I could muster up the energy to play a bunch of games I haven't been all that good at in the past. I asked Eric what team I was going to be on and he said I could be on his, but I sensed that he was hoping for a team of backyard game experts who were going to win. Our final team ended up being Eric, Ryan, Deb, and myself. And to my huge surprise, we won the tournament! We were up against so many people who regularly played these games, atheletic, college aged guys, etc. But our little team, the one with the cancer patient on it, won!! And I don't believe anyone was holding back just because I had a scarf on my head. This is something I am so proud of. Like I said, I wasn't even sure I was going to participate. I was going to sit inside, out of the sun, and rest my body. But I got out there and played all day and had a blast. Boy, was I sore for days afterwards but so was Eric so I think it had to do with being old, and not my cancer treatment.
I also just had a very successful Pampered Chef party in my neighborhood to raise money for my friend Nichole's Komen 3 Day Walk that she is doing this October. We raised $220 to go to her cause! My friend Katie is a Stella & Dot stylist and she did an online jewelry party for me, and the response has just blown my mind! The show did over $2200 in sales and raised over $340 towards my Making Strides Against Breast Cancer fundraising! I am SO THANKFUL to everyone who bought great cookware and jewelry in the name of a good cause! I hope you all love your things. This was SO FUN to be a part of and it took my mind off of obsessing about my cancer for a while and put my energy into thinking about fundraising will lead to research which will lead to better treatments and a cure so our kid's don't have to waste their time obsessing about their cancers.
So while things have been pretty low key here, involving lots of laying around and feeling blah, some really fun things have happened in the last few weeks. I'm looking forward to banging out round 4 of A/C on June 14th! That will be the last time Adriamycin ever cruises through my veins, as there is a lifetime limit to the amount you can have in your system, but more so due to the fact that this cancer won't be back to visit. Next stop is weekly Taxol and Herceptin treatments which is a bit more of a time commitment but is hopefully easier on the side effect front.
As always, THANK YOU so much for your prayers. We are doing really well, managing life through this bump in the road, and the only thing I ask is for prayers. They make more of a difference than any chemotherapy ever could.
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