Chemo Treatment #6: Thoughts of Solitude on This Day After Memorial Day

Chemo:         Taxol

Treatment:    #2 of 12 of Taxol

Companion:    none

Time:            9:00 a.m.

 

Given the Memorial Day holiday yesterday, my chemo appointment this week fell on a Tuesday instead of a Monday.  Growing up in Hawai’i, every Memorial Day my Dad and I would go to the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific (also known as Pu’owaina Crater or Punchbowl) to put fresh flowers on my Mom’s grave.  Because Punchbowl is a VA cemetery, each grave is decorated with an American flag for Memorial Day weekend.  A ton of people are buried at Punchbowl, so the sight of all those American flags is just amazing.  It’s a very somber visual experience.  Other than Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia, which I’ve also been to, I can’t think of a more striking visual.  Not that I want to be thinking about death today.  I mean, shit, I may have cancer and I may be receiving chemo, but I am far from dead.  Quite the opposite, I’d say.

 

Today Dr. Pinder was overbooked because of the holiday, so Cathy Goetch, one of the nurses in the Cancer Center, oversaw my chemo.  Cathy is also the nurse who handles genetic testing and counseling in the Cancer Center, so I had already met her back in March when I had my genetic tests done. 

 

Nothing unusual or eventful happened today, although the treatment took just as long as it did last week.  Apparently they will continue to give me the Taxol super slow for the first few treatments until they are sure that I have no allergic reactions to it.

 

Today was my first time going to chemo alone.  With the holiday schedule, I didn’t want to bother anyone and I thought it would be a good experience to go alone – probably a good choice too, given how boring and uneventful this chemo appointment was.  Nonetheless, the experience is totally different with no one else there with me.  I noticed during this treatment that there were a lot of people receiving chemo with no one with them.  Some of them may want to be alone, but I wonder about those who would like company but who don’t have anyone to sit with them.  It made me a bit sad on this day after Memorial Day to think about that.  Again, I have to thank my lucky stars for all the support I have.  If I want someone to be with me during chemo, I know I’ll be able to find someone to accompany me.  That is a blessing not everyone has.

Feeling Overwhelmed

Today was my first meeting with a support group I found through the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance.  The group is a local branch of FORCE: Facing Our Risk of Cancer Empowered.  FORCE was created to address the issues of people dealing with hereditary/genetic breast and ovarian cancer issues.  Check the website out at: http://facingourrisk.org/.  Amy came with me to support me, and let me tell you that we both learned a lot by the end of the meeting.

 

All of the women we met today have tested positive for either the BRCA 1 or 2 genetic mutations.  I’m the only one in the group who has an inconclusive genetic test result.  All of these women also have cancers (or know that they are likely predisposed to have cancers) that are estrogen negative, and as y’all know, Karla is estrogen positive.  I’m a bit of the odd woman out in this group, but these women still had so much useful knowledge to share with me, I felt very overwhelmed at the end of the meeting. 

 

The meetings are structured with the first hour being devoted to a guest speaker and the second hour used for peer-to-peer discussion.  Our guest speaker today recently returned from the 3^rd Annual National FORCE conference.  She shared with us highlights from the conference.  Let me just share with you just a fraction of the General Sessions and Breakout Topics:

 

• Personalized Medicine: What We’ve Learned from Studying Hereditary Cancer Families
• Breast Reconstruction Overview
• Making Sense out of Uninformative BRCA Tests
• Understanding, Participating in and Interpreting Research
• Fertility Issues
• Young & High-Risk
• Ovarian Cancer Risk Management

Holy crap, the more I heard from our speaker about all the info coming out at the conference and the more I engaged with the women in this group, the more I realized how in the dark I am about my potential future cancer risks, my surgery options and limitations, and my reconstruction options and limitations.  For example, one of the women in our group flew to New York to have her post-mastectomy reconstruction done because allegedly no Washington state plastic surgeon will do a reconstruction on a woman who has had radiation treatment.  Whoa.  I’m supposed to start my radiation treatment shortly after my surgery in early September, and I haven’t even talked to a plastic surgeon yet.  Did I say I’m feeling overwhelmed?

 

The mediator of our local FORCE group, Shannon, is just amazing.  She sent me home with a bunch of materials and a plan – check out the FORCE website and the message boards to find women with similar cancer issues and then communicate with them to learn from their research.  I have a lot of research to do in what now feels like not a lot of time.  Man, I think I need a Xanax.

Chemo Treatment #5: Now for the “Easy” Stuff

Chemo:         Taxol

Treatment:    #1 of 12 of Taxol

Companion:    David Watkins

Time:            10:00 a.m.

 

No more A/C!  Whoo hoo!  Can I get an AMEN?  Seriously, my last post was so depressing, it is very uplifting to know that I’m finally done with that Red Devil crap.  The Taxol is supposed to be easier on my body than the A/C, and I am definitely welcome to this change.

 

David accompanied me to chemo today.  David is a Politics professor at Seattle University with whom Amy, Greg Veen, and I lived when Amy and I were in law school.  David was just finishing up his Masters/PhD in the Politics Department at UW, and Greg was getting his Masters in English also at UW.  My, how times have changed.

 

Although I’m only receiving one chemo drug (Taxol) instead of two (A/C), this chemo appointment took longer than the others, because the Taxol can bring on serious allergic reactions in some folks.  The nurse had to give me a round of antihistamines, an antacid for my stomach, and Compazine for nausea (which I declined) before giving me the Taxol.  And then when she started giving me the Taxol, she had to give it to me super slow in the beginning to make sure she had enough time to troubleshoot if I experienced any weird allergic reactions.  One of the most serious side effects includes numbness/tingling in the hands and/or feet.  If left untreated, this numbness/tingling can become permanent.  Scary!

 

David was very supportive and very funny today.  He kept checking in with me and asking me if my hands or feet were tingling or numb, if I needed anything, or if he needed to summon the nurse.  It is very interesting to see David in caretaker mode.  When I had my eggs harvested in March for my pre-chemo fertility treatments and was put on bed rest for a couple days, David took care of me then too (I was staying at David, Amy, and Andrew’s house at that time).  Again, I’m very lucky to have the friends I do.

 

Other than the increased length of time, this round of chemo was pretty bareable.  I experienced no weird side effects or other complications.  Hopefully the treatments will go a little quicker next time.  

The Red Devil Sucks Ass

My “easy” ride is over.  For the first time, I am so floored physically I can’t even go on my walk-jog today.  The couch is my friend.  (Damage, I know you’re unable to be here with me right now, but just know that your amazing furniture is taking extremely good care of me on this journey!)  The worst part about this is that I can’t freaking figure out what sounds good to eat.  Nothing sounds good.  And I mean nothing.  I’m a bit surprised because the nausea deal was supposed to be a constant from the beginning, not cumulative with treatment.  Not that I’m pukey nauseated, I just don’t feel like eating at all.  I finally ended up calling Rom Mai Thai up the street to deliver salad rolls and pad see ew (the name may not sound appealing, but the noodles are very good).  I couldn’t eat the noodles, but I forced myself to eat a couple pieces of the salad rolls.  They stayed down and that’s all I care about. 

 

I had so much planned for today, exercising, hanging out with John Cornwell who’s in town this weekend, catching up on some work, cleaning my dang condo.  Jesus.  None of it is going to get done because all I’m doing is watching TV on the couch.  Ahhhhh, the couch.  Thank god for the couch.

 

I sure hope the Taxol that I start for my next round of chemo is how everyone has described it – a “cakewalk” compared to the A/C.  Once a week for 12 weeks, the Taxol better be easier than the A/C.

Chemo Treatment #4: Documenting the Journey and an Interlude RE: BSG

Chemo:         A/C

Treatment:    #4 of 4 of A/C

Companion:    Martin Horn

Time:            3:00 p.m.

 

Today is my Mom’s birthday.  My Mom died when I was three years old of breast and lung cancer.  It’s very fitting that the last of the A/C treatments that I will receive on this journey is on Mom’s birthday.  She would have been 72 years old today.

 

Martin accompanied me to this last A/C treatment and documented every step of the process with video and photographs — from the drive to Virginia Mason, to me checking in and making my co-payment, to the nurse “accessing” my Power Port, and including every part of the A/C treatment.  The photos are just amazing.  Check out a few of them here:

 

the chemo:

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2578107671/sizes/l/in/set-72157605609844900/

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2578111441/sizes/l/in/set-72157605609844900/

me & the chemo:

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2578932268/sizes/l/in/set-72157605609844900/

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2578117033/sizes/l/in/set-72157605609844900/

my lovely dry skin & fingernails:

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2578921768/sizes/l/in/set-72157605609844900/

Diane, my nurse:

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2578915296/sizes/l/in/set-72157605609844900/

 

I will have to update this post with some of the video clips once Martin is done editing the oodles of footage he took today.

 

Dr. Pinder told me today that I am definitely at the end of the “bell curve” regarding how well I’m handling the A/C.  I really do feel blessed and continue to keep my fingers crossed as I continue treatment.  I’m no dummy – I’m cognizant that anything can happen at any moment and at some point my body may just tell me to go to hell.

 

My chemo nurse today, Diane, is one of the funniest women I’ve met.  She, Martin, and I totally geeked out talking about Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, Serenity, and other wonderful Sci-Fi programming.  Diane goes to the conventions and meets the actors.  She has met Jamie Bamber and has photos to prove it.  I’m going to sell myself down the river and disclose that I just love Jamie Bamber.  I feel like a 12-year-old girl with a crush on a pop star.  Anyhoo, Diane broke the news to me that Jamie is close to my height.  His online profile says that he’s 5’9”, but Diane swears he’s closer to 5’7”.  Diane’s about my height, so I’m inclined to trust her judgment.  Us “shorties” are pretty good at evaluating the height of other vertically-challenged folk.  But I digress.

 

Chemo went so quickly today, given the great conversation with Diane and with Martin’s great company and incessant documenting.  I’m now done with what is supposed to be the “worst” part of my treatment.  Whoo hoo!