One more to go

Last Tuesday was my second to last chemo session! Hooray!!!! Side effects this time around: more nausea, sinus headache/pressure and fatigue...all expected, but not fun. :) That's me sitting in my lounge chair happy that I'm almost done! One more left on October 30th and I will be 100% done with chemo. I have a month off to recover from the chemo and will enjoy some Thanksgiving food and family, then on December 3rd I have my bi-lateral mastectomy. I decided to get the tissue expanders put in at the time of the mastectomy which I will have to get filled every few week to expand my skin and muscle to accomodate the new permanent implant that will be placed in about 6-8 months.

After surgery and the Holidays, I start my 5 week course of radiation: Monday-Friday, 25 days. The end of the treatment plan is so close, I can finally see it and almost feel it.

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Toward the end of my last infusion, a woman with two friends walked in and sat in the chair across from mine. From what I could overhear it sounded like she was on the very same chemo regimen (the Buzdar regimen) and it was her very first day. She had all her hair still and looked nervous, uncomfortable and a little out of place (I think it was the hair). I would hear bits and pieces of her conversation and could hear the tension in her voice. I was so tempted to walk over to her and say, "You can do it! If you ever want to talk just call me..." But I didn't. I didn't want to be intrusive or nosy, but in all honesty if someone had come up to me on my first day and reached out to me, I would have been so grateful. I regret not approaching her. Hopefully I'll see her again in the Infusion Center and I'll have enough courage to talk to her and share my experience with her then.

Seeing her brought me back to where we were six months ago: scared, unsure and nervous about the road ahead. I've had my share of emotional and mental breakdowns since May and have had many nights and days of self-reflection and self-realization, and what I came to realize is that cancer has made me selfish. I have been completely in my own head for the past six months with tunnel vision of seeing mostly ME and not everyone else around me. I know that having cancer is awful, but being a spouse, child, sister, brother, mother, father, in-law, friend of someone who has cancer sucks too. I feel like my acknowledgement of that fact has been sparse.

I thank the people in my life everyday - for all the help with the kids, the house, and me, but realized that I'm so stuck in my own head that I don't say it out loud enough. I don't say thank you to the people who matter...out loud, so they hear me loud and clear. I will change that starting now.

Perspective

About a month ago I entered my name for 49er game tickets at Stanford's Women's Cancer Center. A few weeks later, I got a call saying I won two tickets. I've never won anything so I was pretty excited to get the call. I took JM, of course and we went this past Sunday. His birthday was on Friday so it was the perfect belated birthday present.

It's October, Breast Cancer Awareness Month so the 49ers had dedicated a small section of the stadium to breast cancer survivors and their guests to enjoy the game and participate in the half-time show. I met a number of women either going through cancer treatment like me or women in remission from the disease for upwards of 25 years, giving me hope for my future.

For the half-time show, we were ushered onto the field by the cheerleaders and gifted a pink pashmina by a 49er alum (I wish I knew football well enough to know who gave me my scarf). The applause and cheers enveloped us from every angle of the stadium; empowering me with strength to keep fighting and moving forward. I felt loved, encouraged and supported by complete strangers I will never meet or exchange words with, and felt camaraderie with the women standing next to me who are fighting the same disease I am fighting. I admired my fellow cancer buddies and was in awe of their happy, vibrant smiles and hoped that I was exuding the same positive energy for them.

I came away from the event feeling so blessed and lucky to be where I am. I caught the cancer early and the chemo and hormone therapies crushed the cancer immediately. There were a number of women at the event who were on their second or third chemotherapy regimens because their previous regimens hadn't worked or their tumor kept getting larger. Before the half-time ceremony there was about 30 minutes when we had a chance to chat with each other and exchange stories. One woman said that she would be happy if she can live 5 more years, but instead of just leaving the world without making an impact, she's doing everything she can to further breast cancer and BRCA research so that one less woman (or man) has to go through this. Her attitude and courage is inspiring.

I know I will survive this and live. My prognosis is great, maybe even excellent (I'd like to think that it is, at least). ;) When I hear stories of women who's prognosis is not as good as my own, I feel an immense amount of guilt that I will be OK, and that living another 5 years is not a question but a certainty. I wish nothing but the absolute best for these women and all the other women fighting this disease. We have come so far in breast cancer research but the road ahead is still a very long one. Thankfully for me and the thousands of other women with HER2+ breast cancer, a drug called Herceptin was introduced as a targeted hormone therapy.  Fourteen years ago, HER2+ breast cancer was very hard to beat, but with Herceptin my tumor shrank after the first treatment. I am done with chemo on October 30th, but will continue with Herceptin until May 2013.

My little preachy bit before I go...and since it's breast cancer awareness month it's sort of fitting...early detection is key to beating this awful disease. Ladies and gents, do a self breast exam, check your family history and if you have a history of breast or ovarian cancer ask your doctor about whether you should have a BRCA gene mutation test done, get your mammograms ON-TIME, get an annual PAP, get your annual physical...here's to all our health and happiness.

PS Thank you all so much for your emails following my last post. I have the most amazing friends and family who lift me up and make life a lot brighter and happier when I'm feeling down. Lots of love to you all.

Stuck

I figured it out. Weeks of depression, frustration and anger and the conclusion I came to is this. I feel like everyone and everything is moving ahead and I'm stuck dealing with cancer. I feel like all my plans have been put on hold and that I'm stuck standing in the same place for the next year.

I'm a planner and had my life mapped out for the next couple of years and this messed all that up. Maybe this is life's way of telling me to be more spontaneous; plan less and enjoy the present. Be less structured and be more free-spirited.

The frustration and depression is made worse by me looking the way I do and having a bad self image of myself. I tell Anabelle that it doesn't matter what a person looks like on the outside, but I wake up everyday and look in the mirror and shy away from spending too much time looking at myself because I am scared I will get freaked out at my own reflection. Why? I am so weak that I can't get over this temporary alteration? It's disappointing to think that I am so vain that I'm having a hard time with this. I need to get over my insecurities, but it's so hard. I feel so superficial and stupid writing about this, and I honestly considered not posting this because I should be thankful that this is all I have to go through to beat cancer. Ultimately this blog is about how I'm dealing with cancer and treatment, so in an attempt to be as honest as possible I will risk being judged or criticized.

Maybe it's not that I'm vain, but that I'm in denial that I have cancer. As much as I think I embraced and accepted the diagnosis, in a quiet moment when I'm by myself I still have not and cannot come to terms with the fact that I have breast cancer. Maybe that's why I haven't joined a support group...because once I do, I'm surrounded by people who have the same disease I do and have to admit to myself that I'm also part of the cancer club.

Obviously I need to come to terms with my life - my diagnosis and the slower pace. Although my life is filled with unwanted doctor's appointments and drugs that make me feel sick, life has given me this time to slow down and smell the roses...so that, I will try to do.

House Arrest

It's been a week and a two days since my last chemo infusion. I was under house-arrest until this morning to make sure I give my body a chance to recover; my counts need a chance to come back up without being exposed to germs. My body is the weakest on days 5-7 after chemo, but we're being extra safe because of what happened last time. House-arrest sucked...it was boring and tiring. I was so bored two days ago that I even ironed our sheets and duvet cover (embarrassing that I just admitted that to the public).

My chemo regime was changed due to my hospitalization:

• A 20% reduction of Epirubicen;
• elimination of the extra 5FU infusion on Fridays; and 
• instead of the Neulasta shot on the Saturday after infusion, I have Neupogen shots for five days starting the day after my chemo infusion 

The week following chemo was miserable. I felt like a truck ran me over and I drank a bottle of tequila all by myself every night. The nausea was almost unbearable. I could barely talk, let alone move. Every move I made - whether it was getting out of bed or getting off the couch I felt like I was on the verge of throwing up my entire stomach. I lost almost 10 pounds by Sunday because all I ate was a bowl of porridge and water a day. I am deathly afraid of the third cycle because chemo has a cumulative effect, but only two more left so I can't complain, right?  

After my hospitalization, I decided to go back on medical leave until I can get through the remainder of my chemo treatments. I feel a little bit like a failure that I couldn't work through this, but this is not a time to try to be a super-hero, over-achiever, right? I just need to get over it and realize my body's limitations. Argh. 

❤Home sweet home ❤

Finally going home. Missed our anniversary but will be home for Sofia's birthday!!!!!

No conclusive reason for the fever, but we'll be changing my chemo regimen for the next round: lessening the Epirubicen dose, possibly eliminating the 5FU infusion on Friday and eliminating Neulasta.

Some possibilities for the fever are:

1. Japanese and Chinese women have a particular enzyme that makes it difficult for the body to process the Epirubicen
2. In very rare cases, the Nuelasta shot cases fevers in the following week after injection

Either way with the adjustments for the next regimen hopefully I won't end up in the hospital again.

Thank you all for your supportive emails, calls, text messages. Your love and encouragement has helped me get through this last week.

still here...

It's Monday, September 10th. Our 7 year wedding anniversary and where am I? At Stanford Hospital...BUMMER.

I've cried a lot already today and it's only 9:45am. I'm sad that I'm not home to kiss my kids good morning for the 5th day in the row. I'm sad that I couldn't kiss my husband good morning on our anniversary. I'm am sad that I had to ask my sister to make Sofia's birthday cake because I'm afraid I won't be home to do it. I know I need to stay positive, but for as long as I've been here and for what I know is coming as far as testing today (spinal sample) I doubt I'll be able to leave on Wednesday, September 12th to celebrate my baby girl's 2nd birthday.

Damn this cancer crap. I just want to be home with my kids and JM...I don't feel like I'm asking for much.

Hospital, hospital. When can I go home, Doc?

I've been at Stanford hospital since Wednesday (9/5). I came here because of a fever. Once admitted, we found out that I am neutropenic; my neutraphil count was 200 (borderline is 1500), so I basically had nothing left in me to fight any germs/infections. The hospital put me in isolation until my counts came up to above 1000.

While in the ER, the ER nurses asked me if she can access my mediport and I say yes.  I ask her if she knows how to do it and she confidently says 'yes'. The next 5 minutes were hell. She goes into access and stabs me in the wrong location, then tries again and is shoving the needle down where it obviously wasn't supposed to go. Then she asks if she can try again and I stupidly said yes. She gets another kit ready and stabs me again; third times the charm? Nope third time was the worst. It was like she was taking a knife and stabbing me in the chest over and over again; my legs were kicking out from the pain. What I really wanted to do is bitch-slap the nurse who said she knew what she was doing and obviously did not. Lesson learned: do not have an ER nurse access the port. As a cancer patient, try to go the ITA (if it's open and not the ER); in my case ER was my only option.

There was no isolation rooms on the Onc/Hemo floor so I was kept in the ER for the first 24 hours+. When they were finally able to move me down to Onc/Hemo, my counts had come up to 800 which they felt was high enough for me to share a room with another cancer patient, Phyllis. She was a lovely older woman who had just relapsed from leukemia and was here getting her chemo treatments and leaving the next day.

My criteria for leaving are the following: no fever for 24 hours and neutraphil counts have to be 'normal'. I got the second one taken care of - my white blood cell counts are actually through the roof (probably due in large part to the Neulasta shot I got last Saturday that stimulates the bone marrow to made more while blood cells). The problem is this, even though my count is up the new white blood cells are immature like "2 year olds" per my Oncologist and they dont quiet know what they're doing. These cells need to mature and start working the way they're meant to work.

In general, I feel good. My appetite is back for the most part. But I am beyond frustrated as to why they can't figure out why I keep spiking 100-102+ fevers. They've run every test imagineable and nothing is coming back positive, but I still spike a fever at least twice a day. The last time I had a fever today was 1PM, so I'm praying and praying that I don't a fever between now and 1PM tomorrow and I should get the green light to go home. Usually my second fever strikes between 8pm and 10pm, but so far so good.

Every time the nurse comes in for vitals check and says any number over 37.8 I start to cry. This has been such an emotional roller coaster. I haven't seen my kids since Wednesdays (they think I'm at a spa getting massages and eating fancy meals) and both of our families have rallied to support us with the kids, meals, and everything else. I cannot be more thankful for all the support. I love you all.

So...wish me luck. No fever for the next 12 hours and I can go home and see my kids when they come home from a weekend away with their cousins and aunt and uncle in Pacific Grove. :)