Chemo Treatment #10: Going Solo

Chemo:         Taxol

Treatment:    #6 of 12 of Taxol

Companion:    None

Time:            2:00 p.m.

 

Chemo has become such a regular routine and the Taxol is so much easier on my system than the Adriamycin/Cytoxin, that I decided to go to chemo alone today.  I scheduled my next few chemo appointments later in the day so I can be in the office in the morning, and David is only available to accompany me if chemo concludes by 4 p.m., so today I decided to go solo.  Don’t get me wrong, there are many people who have offered to accompany me to chemo, but today I felt like going alone. 

 

It worked out well, given that the chemo itself was pretty uneventful.  I continued doing a ton of work while receiving chemo, which made the nurses (and anyone else walking by my treatment room) raise an eyebrow, but with no one with me today, it just felt like the thing to do.  Late afternoon TV programming is not as entertaining as daytime programming. 

 

This experience has taught me that I probably should have someone with me during chemo to distract me and save me from my tendency to fill my free time with work.  I recently had an interaction with opposing counsel in one of my cases regarding why I’ve been out of the office every Monday.  This attorney has been very pleasant with me throughout this case and we’ve worked pretty closely over the last year, so I shared with him that I have breast cancer.  His response was very sincere and empathetic, but I also sensed a bit of surprise.  I haven’t really put the brakes on at work since starting chemo, so I can see it being a surprise to my colleagues who don’t see me every day that I’m battling cancer right now.

 

Although my situation at work really sucks since I can’t take off any significant amount of time off, I feel like I have become a much tougher cookie than I thought I could be by having to work full time and fight Karla at the same time.  Add to that the fact that I ended my relationship with Alex shortly after receiving my diagnosis.  There have been moments where I really feel alone.  The solitude is sometimes unpleasant, but it definitely makes me stronger as an individual and builds my resolve to prevail in my battle with Karla.  In this context, my increased “alone time” has been very useful.

 

Despite this, I think I’m done with solo chemo treatments for a while.  Chemo is much more “fun” with a buddy.

Hair Returns, Nails Fade Away

My hair is actually starting to grow back in!  It’s a bit hard to tell if you haven’t been staring at my bald head this whole time, but I definitely have a bunch of fuzz growing in.  Dr. Pinder tells me that my hair will continue to grow from here on out.  In a few months, I should have a close-to-full head of hair.

On the unfortunate flip side, my nails, eyebrows, and eyelashes are definitely taking a beating from the Taxol.  I’m nursing the last of my eyebrows and eyelashes (a buttload of them fell out after the first and second Taxol treatments), and my fingernails are exhibiting “lines” that correspond with each chemo treatment and are now turning black.  Unlike a lot of people, my fingernails started turning black from when I was on the A/C treatments.  As expected, the Taxol has exacerbated the deterioration.  I’m hopeful that my fingernails will not fall out entirely, though Dr. Pinder warned me to expect the worst, since my nails are turning black pretty quickly.  Thankfully, my toenails appear to be intact for now.

Martin took some pretty cool photos of me today documenting these physical changes:

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2636801327/sizes/l/in/set-72157605609844900/

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2637629562/sizes/l/in/set-72157605609844900/

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2637632946/sizes/l/in/set-72157605609844900/

http://flickr.com/photos/reinventmdh/2636811835/in/set-72157605609844900/

Chemo Treatment #9: Feeling Like Ironman

Chemo:         Taxol

Treatment:    #5 of 12 of Taxol

Companion:    Sven Liden

Time:            8:30 a.m.

 

Sven was able to join me for today’s chemo treatment, which was great, because if there is anyone I know who is pleasantly distracting, it is Sven.

 

Early morning appointments usually start on time, and this morning was no exception.  I was in-and-out pretty quickly.  Since my pneumonia scare, my body has acclimated well to the Taxol, so my chemo appointments are going a bit quicker. 

 

With Dr. Pinder today, I addressed a few key issues about my reproductive health that have been on my mind.  I’ve been worried about the prospect of getting pregnant in the future, given my inconclusive genetic test results and the fact that Karla is estrogen-positive.  It’s my understanding that pregnancy makes your hormones go through the roof and fluctuate pretty dramatically, so it’s been my fear that pregnancy may bring on secondary breast cancer for me.  Dr. Pinder put much of my fears to rest by informing me that my fears are unsupported in the known literature and that studies suggest getting pregnant may actually “help” me dodge a secondary cancer “bullet” in the future.  Dr. Pinder noted that under usual circumstances, I will be on a course of Tamoxifen for the next 5 years after my treatment concludes to insure Karla stays away.  However, if I intend to get pregnant, she said the course can be shortened to 2-3 years.  As most of you know, I had my eggs harvested prior to starting chemo and was able to freeze seven eggs, so I’m very happy that I didn’t freeze them in vain.

 

After chemo I had to go into the office to get a motion out the door, so Sven hung out in downtown for a bit while I finished up work.  What should have been a 30-minute job became a half-day’s worth of billing – once partners noticed I was in the office, I was handed several “emergency” projects.  Go figure.  Patient Sven hung around so that he and I could go see Ironman in the theater (neither of us had seen it yet).  We then joined up with Destiny, Gary, and Heather for dinner at Serious Pie, Tom Douglas’ new pizza joint next to Dahlia Lounge.  Good pie.  Shwanky and a bit on the pricier side, but good.

 

On the heels of the great news I received from Dr. Pinder about my reproductive options in the future, I really did feel like Ironwoman today (or “Ironperson,” to be gender neutral).  Prior to this experience I really didn’t know whether I wanted kids.  It’s funny that when faced with the reality that this process may take away my ability to have kids, my decision about having kids became a lot more concrete.  I realize that I may never have kids in the future — no partner in crime to “facilitate” the baby-making, not enough financial stability to make me feel comfortable enough to have kids, problems with my seven frozen eggs, problems with conceiving, etc. — but just the knowledge that I still have a chance really sets my mind at ease.  I suspect I will sleep better tonight.

Chemo Treatment #8: Karla’s On Her Way Out!

Chemo:         Taxol

Treatment:    #4 of 12 of Taxol

Companion:    David Watkins

Time:            11:40 a.m.

 

So today would have been just as uneventful as my last chemo treatment, but for the fact that Dr. Pinder decided to “inspect” Karla to see how she’s reacting to the chemo.  She did an informal breast examination and almost jumped up in glee as she reported to me that Karla is almost undetectable by touch!  Remember — Karla was pretty big when we found her (4.7 x 0.2 x 0.2 cm).  Dr. Pinder was ecstatic, as I have 8 more chemo treatments.  She’s convinced Karla may be fully undetectable (but for the clip they put in her to mark her before I started chemo) by the time I’m done with chemo.  She’s very pleased with how well I’m responding to treatment.

 

This good news makes my surgery dilemma much more present in my mind, as Dr. Pinder tells me that they will likely start looking at the schedule for my surgery when I’m two weeks before the conclusion of chemo, which will be in mid-August.  For those of you to whom I haven’t spoken to in a while, I am still struggling with whether to have a lumpectomy or a mastectomy.  You all know that my genetic tests came back inconclusive, so I’m unsure if I have a genetic mutation that predisposes me to a recurrence of cancer.  If I do, the stats are absolutely frightening.  I would have a 27%-44% chance of developing ovarian cancer (remember that hereditary breast and ovarian cancer are linked) and a 48%-64% chance of second primary breast cancer (Karla returns).  With those odds, a mastectomy sounds like a better option, right?  Nonetheless, initially I thought to myself — why take such drastic measures for what is ultimately the unknown?  Even if I assume for the sake of argument that I do have the genetic mutation, I may be in the lucky set of the mutants who does NOT develop ovarian or second primary breast cancer.  And even if I am unlucky and develop another cancer, why not cross that bridge when I actually get there?  Then the shit hit the fan with my office and I realized that I do not want to go through this process again.  I can’t imagine having to work full-time while going through treatment again.  I’m just not sure I have the mental or emotional strength to face the shitty reality that I’m in now for a second time around.  I told David today that I think I need to look for a Sugar Daddy real soon . . . .

 

For now I feel like I have a bit of time to ponder, but I’m fearful that I’m in denial and I’m just procrastinating confronting the real question of deciding on the next step.  I’m gonna blink my eyes and chemo will be over and I will have to face the reality of having to decide how much of my breast I want to lose in exchange for a roll of the dice as to whether I’m right back at square one again in the future.  Shitty.  Just a shitty choice to make.

Chemo Treatment #7: Business as Usual

Chemo:         Taxol

Treatment:    #3 of 12 of Taxol

Companion:    David Watkins

Time:            11:40 a.m.

 

Because I was out of commission with pneumonia and my fever all last week, Dr. Pinder was super careful while checking my stats before this week’s chemo.  I was definitely anxious to get back on the wagon, as I want to make sure Karla is getting the full hit of my treatment.  Thankfully, everything was a go and they gave me my treatment today.

 

David, who has Mondays off from his teaching schedule at Seattle University, has made it a point to come with me to all my chemo appointments if other people are unable to come.  He’s just amazing, reliable as shit ,and always up for discussing political theory and world history.  I’ve said many times before, surround yourself with people who are smarter than you without being pretentious.  You’ll always have enjoyable and lively conversation.  David is one of these peeps in my world.  

 

Today’s TV watching fiasco included a show about swapping wives.  David and I were glued to the TV today as a result of how hideous this show was.  Some grossly obese, uber-Catholic fundamentalist was just a horror to the family she was swapped to.  The host family had a solstice celebration BBQ, and this woman just about flipped her shit because she felt the celebration was from the “dark side.”  She twitched at the sight of the family’s lawn ornament gargoyles, almost had an anurism when she was introduced to a psychic, and at the end of her stay forced the family to go to church because she felt it was her duty to “save” this family from going to hell.  This woman went absolutely psychotic at the end, ripping up the check presented to her and her family by the producers of the show for successfully completing the week of the “swap.”  She said it was the devil’s money and that anyone from the show’s camera crew who did not believe in God needed to get the hell out of her house.  The program at the end reported that this woman later changed her mind and instead decided to keep the money.  How Christian of her.  Damn crazy.

 

But again, I digress about TV.  Jesus, I need to spend a week unplugged.  The chemo today was uneventful, as I’m becoming more accustomed to the Taxol.  I’m trying to take it easy and not stress my body out again with all the physical and mental activity I was engaging in prior to my fever and pneumonia diagnosis.  The last thing I need to do is relapse or develop walking pneumonia because I didn’t really recover the first time.  I may be halfway done with the chemo, but I need to face the reality that this stuff, though easier than the A/C, is given to me every week and may have a cumulative effect on me.  I need to give my body the space to really recover from each chemo treatment.  Wow — taking it easy and listening to my body when it tells me to slow down – these concepts are so foreign to me.  )

So I’m OK, Really

Wow.  What I first blogpost, huh?  I received several calls and emails this week after Monday’s blogpost, and I just needed to let everyone know that I’m okay.  Monday’s ER fiasco was unexpected, tedious, and ultimately crappy,  but all has ended well, as I am finally feeling much better.  Thankfully, the doctors caught my pneumonia early.  My chest x-ray actually came up clear — the CT Scan done to check for blood clots caught the slight fluid in my lungs. 

Not that this week didn’t suck — I stayed home watching bad daytime TV programming and battled continued shortness of breath and the return of my fever midweek.  I ended up staying home this weekend instead of going to Critical Massive, which makes me quite sad.  However, I think the last place I need to be right now is in a tent 4.5 hours away in a cold, wet valley.  

I got my brief done for work and the partner I’m working with on that case was impressed by my draft.  I’m thankful and a bit amazed, given that I came up with most of the argument while battling my 103.1 fever and shortness of breath issues last weekend.  Perhaps I should draft more briefs while delirious and oxygen-deprived.

Troy was great this week.  Not only did he accompany me to the ER on Monday, but he checked in on me every day, hung out with me when I was up for it, stayed home with me from Critical Massive, and took me to see Kung Fu Panda on Friday to cheer me up.  It’s been yet another reminder of how amazing my support base has been during this process.  How lucky am I!

This week really reminded me that I am human.  I’ve handled the chemo so well since the beginning, it was definitely refreshing (and necessary) to be “floored” for just a bit.  I’m learning to give myself space to listen to my body and to actually listen to it when it speaks up.  Those of you who know me well know that is extremely hard for me to do.  I’m always pushing my limits.  There is always space for me to fit in another event, or to get an extra mile into my run, or to bill an extra hour at work before heading home.  It’s definitely been part of my “life overhaul” to rethink how I spend my time and what effect that has on my health and recovery.

Hopefully I’ll be able to receive Monday’s chemo treatment.  I had to forgo this week’s chemo because of my battle with pneumonia, so I’m anxious to continue treatment.  I’m more than halfway done with chemo, and each week that passes brings me closer to my surgery date.

Cat in the ER

Welcome to my first blog post.  Well this isn’t really my first blog post as I will be posting my archive journal entries in the near future.  God knows when that will be as I am now 11 weeks into treatment and just now starting the blog.  (Thank you Troy who is my guest transcriber for today.)  So here goes…

I will often times refer to myself in the third person because I have the luxury of a transcriber today who is sitting next to my ER bed.  So I got to the Cancer Care Center today expecting my chemo.   Since I just finished battling my fever this weekend Dr. Pinder did another full workup prior to the chemo and determined that I had a serious shortness of breath issue.  Significantly decreased oxygen to Cat = trip to the ER.  Four hours, one chest X-Ray, one CT Scan, three cooking shows, one terrible phlobotamist and a $100 deductible later I am now hooked up to my 3rd antibiotic of the weekend.  Sucky fucky.

Needless to say I didn’t get my chemo today.  I am hopeful I’ll get it tomorrow but I’m starting to think this Taxol stuff (which is supposed to be much easier than the A/C combo I was on before) is harder on my system.  Bastard.  Perhaps it’s just that my body is figuring out that I’m not done with this shit yet and is finally taking a well needed break.  Its idea of a break is a minor case of pneumonia.  Yep, I have pneumonia.  As if billing 155 plus hours a month wasn’t enough stress on my system prior to my cancer diagnosis.  Oh yeah did I mention that I “had” a major brief due last week Friday which got pushed to Monday when I had to come into the hospital with a 103.1F fever that day, which then got pushed to tomorrow after today’s ER fiasco.  Not to mention the fact that I have been functioning at half oxygen capacity all weekend thanks to my lovely pneumonia – no wonder I was hallucinating Sunday night.

That’s it, I’m tired, sick of being in the hospital, sick of being poked, prodded, listened to, asked my birthday, how to spell my name, if there’s any pressure in my legs, to rate the pain in my chest from 1 to 10, etc – might ask me the PIN # to my Money Market account (it’s 4518 by the way).  That’s it.