Thursday, November 12, 2009

#6

I almost hate to even document this. Number 6 has been a bitch. I'm glad it's the last one. Thursday and Friday I was fine. Even did Christmas shopping on Friday. I even felt good enough to take a Saturday morning trip with mom to the fabric store, neice and nephew in tow.



M.I.S.T.A.K.E.



We made it to the store and almost home. Nephew (just a few months old) was hungry, so I suggested we stop @ McDonalds and she could feed him and I would get Neice a Happy Meal. Got everyone fed and happy and started cleaning up the table. I started feeling funny. But I was SURE I could make it to the car. Um, no. I made it about 3 steps and fainted. 3 customers caught me so at least my head didn't hit the floor. But I landed on my foot, with my foot completely extended. 2 men helped me to the car, and we headed home. By the time we got there, I wasn't feeling as swimmy-headed, but my foot had swelled. Off to the ER we went. We still don't know why I fainted - we are guessing that my blood pressure just dropped, a common side-effect of the chemo. And the foot isn't broken, but I still have to be careful. Still swollen, but not broken.



I'm still tired. I feel like I can't get caught up on my sleep. But this is the last one, right? A few more days, a few more days.



But the humiliation keeps rolling in. Because fainting in public wasn't bad enough, let's add a little more helplessness to the table. Last night my knees were killing me. Side effect of the Neulasta. Nothing I couldn't handle, but I thought a nice warm bath would help. Sure enough, it provided some temporary relief. I was ready to get out. I still don't like just pulling up straight with my arms - like a normal person. I always feel like my boobs are going to pop out of their pockets. Irrational, I know. But I just roll over and get up to the side. Well, apparently, that won't work. I put pressure on the wrong part of the injured foot. Fell in the tub like an old lady. All I could think was "I've fallen, and I can't get up!" I sat and cried for a few minutes. Then Mike came in and helped me up. And when he and Evan left for guitar, I cried some more. Because all I could see was what he must have seen: a fat, almost bald, old, pitiful lump that couldn't even get out of the tub by herself. I have never felt more helpless in my life. And if there is one thing I HATE, it's feeling helpless.

Just one more blow to the ego after another. But this is the last one. The very last one.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The blog title and picture

I've been trying to decide if I wanted to try to explain that or not. I guess I will.

The title and picture come from New Moon. My current favorite book. If you haven't read it, this will mean nothing to you. In the book, Bella decides to go cliff-diving alone in an effort to 'hear' Edward. She doesn't see the storm brewing off the coast. Even if she did, she wouldn't have understood the impact of that storm. When she hits the water, she is sucked under. She can't breathe. She can't fight the current. She doesn't even know which direction to TRY to go.

The cliff-diving was my mamogram. The storm was the look in the tech's eyes (she could see it - later I understood the look). Hitting the water was the call from the surgeon that did my biopsy - I couldn't breathe. I had no idea where to turn.

I'm OK now, but the first few days were so confusing. Everyone wants to give advice, especially people who have never been in this position. And it comes from all sides. Slamming. And people telling you it will be fine, before you know it will be. Before you have proof, or at least a doctor's guess. All I wanted to do was crawl in a hole. But I had to take care of Evan and take care of myself. And I have...with help. Lots of help.

# 5

Treatment number 5 came and went without much fanfare. It was a little worse than the ones before, mainly because I was so tired. Tired from the 4 that came before. Tired because I didn't let myself rest like I should have...company coming does that to me. Tired because the company coming was such a fucking disaster and broke my heart. Here it is, the night before # 6, and I'm still tired. Usually, by this point, I'm back to myself.

But. # 6 is tomorrow. The last one. I can get through this. I WILL rest this time. I WILL drink plenty of fluids. I WILL not have to listen to someone whine about her loser ex-husband, because we are not speaking, therefore I will rest because I won't be getting calls in the middle of the night.

Evan is killing me. He knows I'm tired - I've been taking too many short cuts in the parenting area. He's getting away with too much and he knows he can. This has to stop. But at the same time, he's really being sweet. He has started asking me when my hair will grow back. And I really don't know the answer to that. I don't know if radiation will keep it from growing. Guess I'll ask the doc about that.

I have now traumatized one nephew and one neice. Nephew was a few months ago. He was giving me a hug and I told him to be careful, I have boo boos. His 6 yr old inquiring mind had to see. Do you know how fast the hands of a 6 yr old boy can be? He jerked down my shirt and got a good look at the Frankenboobs. Do you KNOW how weird nipple-less boobs look? He does. 3 yr old Neice happened Halloween. We were all over @ mom and dad's...I was wearing a purple wig. She was trick or treating while I was working on Dad's computer. It got hot. I took off the wig. She came in the bedroom. Her eyes were so wide. "Where, where, where is your purple hair?" I asked her if she wanted me to put it back on... all she could do was nod. Oh, well. Maybe she will knock next time.

Monday, October 5, 2009

#4

Number 4 is done...2 to go before we start the next phase. 2/3 of the way done.

This one really wasn't too bad. I did throw up for the first time. Not much, but enough. But, the pain wasn't as bad. My theory? A reaction with the antibiotics. Every other treatment I've been on antibiotics. This was my first without. And it wasn't too bad. I took maybe 2 of the good pills, but that beat the 2 every 4 to 6 hours last time.

I've been a little more tired this time. Thursday I don't know how I made it through the day. By the end of the day, I realized why. The shot I get after treatment boosts white cell growth to replace the cells destroyed by chemo and prevent infection. Well, this is what your body does naturally when you HAVE an infection. It's what causes fever. By 7 PM I had a fever of 100.6. I usually run a little low...in the 96 degree range. So I felt like crap. I was freezing to the touch, but burninig up on the inside. Supposed to call the doctor @ 100.5 - to determine if I need to start taking the antibiotics that I have on hand. Or if I should be headed to the ER. Because infections can kill a chemo patient. I knew it was just the shot, but I called anyway. My doc wasn't on call. The doc on call never called back. The service kept calling me to see if he had called...finally, my fever started coming down so I told them to forget it. But the next day I did call my doc and let them know.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Update

# 3 is done. Finally got a solution for the pain. Stay stoned for 2 days. Hey, whatever works. I'm half way done. I feel like I know what to expect and that helps. And my infection is cleared up. No more plastic surgeon for TWO MONTHS! But, I'll miss the girls in the office. I'm meeting them for lunch the day after my next treatment.

My current side effects are lack of hair and exhaustion. The lack of hair? Getting used to it. I still have a good bit on my head. Not enough to go out in public. But enough that I have some fuzz. When this is all done, I'll go have it shaved off so it can all grow back in at the same time. And no more is falling out right now. So I guess I'll get to keep this? But hair everywhere else... still have my eyebrows, still have my lashes. But if it has been shaved or plucked, it isn't growing back. And that's OK. Too bad I couldn't take advantage of not needing to shave the bikini line - becasue it went bald faster than my head. Oh well.

The real problem right now is exhaustion. I NEVER know when it's going to hit. Tuesday I was fine. Wednesday (afternoon) and Thursday (all day)? Could barely move or keep my eyes open. Today (Friday) I feel just about normal. And Evan is having company tomorrow night. Who knows what that will bring? At least it's a boy that Evan gets along with - never have any trouble out of them!

I've been trying to remind myself every day I have something to be thankful for. My latest? Health insurance. Wow. Getting the statements of payment from the insurance company are an eye-opener. The cost that gets me the most is the shot I get the day after a treatment that boosts my blood count - forces the bone marrow to produce. One shot. $8,300. Fuck. You expect the chemo to have a high price tag. It requires a drip. Nurses to administer, doctors to monitor. But one shot? A jab with a tiny needle? But it does the job. Prevents infection, which could be more expensive than the shot if a hospital stay is required. But wow.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

2 down, 4 to go

Well, so far this one hasn't been quite as bad. I guess the Claratin is helping with the bone pain. Still hurts, but a heating pad is really helping. I'm tired, but so far it's managable. Of course, I've been in a recliner all weekend.

But the really shitty part that's bugging me right now is my hair. As if it doesn't suck enough that it's falling out. It fucking hurts. It feels like it's been in a tight rubber band for days...that feeling you get when you take it down. But the feeling doesn't go away. At least not yet. It's because the folicles are turning loose. It will go away...I guess when all the hair is gone.

Update - I spoke WAY too soon. The bone pain hit with a slam. Hips, knees and ankles. And as quick as it hit, sometime Monday night it went away.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

CLEAVAGE!

This is what I look like completely expanded. They are shaped funny, but at least they are even! And that big bandage thing is covering my accessed port. That's how I do my IVs and how they give me the chemo. It's a handy little thing.