Sunshine in April

Sunday, March 18:  At this point, I am down to my last two chemo infusions.  This week and next week.

Then I am done.

I am done with the poison.

I am done being so run down that I can barely exist.

My best analogy for how I feel most days is related to weight lifting.  I used to love lifting weights, and I still do just not as gung ho as I used to be.  My body feels like it does after one of those heavy lift, or intense exercise, days where you keep pushing yourself to the end.  Just a little more – you can do it!  I am almost finished with this heavy lifting (aka chemo), but I don’t have anything left.  My muscles are depleted. I am weaker than I have ever been in my life.  Literally BONE TIRED!  A friend of mine had never heard that phrase, so I explained it.  It is when your entire body, all the way to the core, is exhausted.  Like your brain is unable to make your bones and muscles work together because your limbs feel like lead weights.  Dead weights.  Every movement is like climbing a mountain.

Image:  I just thought this was cute:  Jittergram: Bear Lifting Weights by Rusty Blazenhoff for CC BY-NC 2.0.  

I have been freaking out all day and experiencing significant insecurity around writing my blog and sharing such a personal experience. Why do I get so much nervous energy and go bonkers?  Why do I stuff so much?  Why does it take me so long to identify these intense feelings of discomfort in my own skin?  This is probably from years of repression and denial.  Maybe a lifetime’s worth.  Maybe freaking out about the blog is just a way of distracting my brain from one more session with the poison.

In some ways denial and repression has made me more resilient – just suck it up and keep going in spite of obstacles.  My self talk says that nobody wants to hear your complaints – everybody has their own issues to deal with. So just keep going.

In most ways, this denial and repression has kept me stay stuck in spots where things weren’t working out, but I kept trying to fit the square peg into the round hole over and over and over… You get it, and some of you maybe have done it.  It is not a comfortable place to be.  But it is where I am and what I am working on.

 

Monday, March 19:  Taxol infusion #11 of 12.  Total chemo infusions #15 of 16.  Only two more.  Only two more.  Only two more.  This and the next.

I met Erica at the infusion center and cried when I saw her.  I had very little sleep last night and am trying to stay strong and just get through this.  I can… I can.. I can… But I don’t want to.  I want this to be over.

I am with the travelling nurse from Florida again.  Nothing really different about this one; Just one more step in the process, and everything went smoothly.  Erica can only stay for a portion of the time and the company is nice.

After my infusion, I visited with the pathologist to go over slides.  He showed me the pocket of DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ), precancerous cells, pockets of microcalcification (often normal with aging), and IBC (invasive breast cancer – mine is invasive ductal carcinoma).  Normal cells are different than cancer cells in that they appear similar to the cells surrounding each other and stay in place.  Cancer cells are a hot mess of chaos wreaking havoc, with each individual cell doing it’s own crazy thing following no real rules.  This makes me wonder if the doctor who did my biopsy knew right away that the cells were cancerous.  He wasn’t pulling out nice little plugs of pink tissue, he was pulling out death.  Death creating, cell crushing cancer.

Maybe morbid, but the pathology visit was very educational and oddly interesting!

 

Tuesday 3.20.  I met with Peg for a second time today.  She only does 1-3 sessions, then refers patients out.  She is a breast cancer survivor herself and understands on a deeper level.  As we were walking to her office, I ran into my friend Amy, coming out of her massage appointment.  Odd running into your buddy at the oncology clinic, but that’s what cancer can do.  It can bond you to these amazing people you may have never really known otherwise.  With Peg, I guess it is pretty obvious need more than the three sessions she can offer, so we discuss referrals.

When I got to my car, I got a phone call from the dermatology clinic where they will be removing my squamous cell carcinoma and atypical mole.  My excision surgery is scheduled for next week on the 28^th, but they have an opening tomorrow.  Heck yes, let’s get this done and over with ASAP!

Image:  The atypical mole area that was removed from the back of my leg.  I’ll spare you the bikini area one, but it looks the same.  

 

Wednesday. 3.21.  Again, there is my Erica by my side.  NO, you cannot have my Erica!  YES, I know she is amazing!  My spouse is equally amazing (and quite fabulous at comic relief), and I sent him to work because I have my Erica by my side.  Her schedule is more flexible, and I have my spouse by my side every day, night, weekend.  Erica picked me up and drove me to my excision appointment, which was great because I got super nervous before heading out.  Dr. Elm was fabulous, and they allowed me to set a joking tone to lighten the mood.  That helped me relax and be less stressed.  He removed an atypical mole from the back of my calf and a squamous cell carcinoma spot in my bikini area.  Squamous cell carcinoma tends to occur in areas exposed to sun, so how it got in my bikini area, I don’t know.  No nude sun bathing for me and very few times in a tanning bed where that area would have been exposed to damaging rays.  Anyway, I am glad to have that taken care of.  The two procedures went fairly quickly.

Once home, I had to do a quick shift from patient to mom mode.  I picked Mikala up from play practice, then after a quick race home to eat and change, we headed off to her concert.  Thankfully, the numbing medication lasted for a while and sitting wasn’t too uncomfortable.  Of course, I get the usual stares.  I mean I look like a tired weak bald cancer patient who just had skin cancer removed.  But I’m alive!  Sort of awake. Bone tired.

 

Thursday. 3.22:  Good grief, this is a busy week!  I have my post chemo (well, almost post chemo) MRI at 10:30.  I was brave (crazy?!) enough to drive myself.  Everything went quickly and smoothly, and I was out of there in a short period of time.  Of course, I asked if I could see the images and he told me no.  Hmph!  Rude!  Whatever.  I know docs want all of the fun of sharing news with patients…            I came home exhausted!  Couch time!

 

Friday. 3.23.  I dropped Mikala off and walked Bear.  In the rain.  38*.  DREARY to say the least.  My southern compadres completely understand why I do NOT like the extended cold and rainy season that makes up the majority of the western Washington weather pattern.  Screw this convergent zone shit.  UGH.  It is so flipping hard to stay positive with chemo much less this weather.  And most people who live hear love it!

So so so damn tired.  I know. I thought walking in the cold was a good idea.  Did I ever mention how stubborn I can be?  I keep trying for that ‘normal’ and fighting against the exhaustion, but it keeps winning.  I share here what my days are like, and I really don’t have energy for much beyond this.  What I share is pretty much all that I do.  The rest of the time is spent trying to recover from chemo.  My food fairies have saved me tremendously as we would likely just be eating out and ordering delivery often.

 

Later in the day with my body and brain exhausted, my thoughts veered towards what I would do if I were terminal.  I am not sure I could go through my last days intentionally poisoning my body just for a bit more time.  The current quality of life is just draining.  I am sure it would depend on how much time it could give me because I know that the cancer itself would eventually cause so much damage to the body it would be like I was going through chemo anyway.  Washington state does have a Death with Dignity Act.  It is quite a complicated process with checks and balances in place and only for those with six months or left to live, so that actively takes out long term degenerative illnesses like Lou Gherig’s disease and Alzheimer’s.  We can euthanize animals to put them out of pain and suffering, and I did this with my Bella just two years ago.  She had terminal cancer and was so weak with her sad eyes.  I held on to her as long as I could justify because I didn’t’ want to let her go.  Then one morning I looked at her and knew it was time.  I am thankful this law exists and gives a few people more control over their death compared to drawn out suffering. It is not for everyone, but I am thankful to those who passed this law into existence.

Don’t worry, I am nowhere near that point, but I do understand why people would make that choice for themselves.  I do have a choice if it comes down to it.

 

On a much more positive note, today is my daughter’s birthday.  Technically, she is my ‘stepdaughter’, and I have always respected the fact that my stepkids already have a mom.  And, she’s still my kid.  Anyway, today is her birthday and we all meet at Fuji Japanese Steakhouse for dinner where the chef entertains you while making your meal. Yummy.  It’s her favorite place, and I adore her, so I rally to make this special night.  It is a lot of fun, but then I am done for the night.

 

It has been a rather busy week, so I go home for my VERY LAST weekend before my VERY LAST chemo infusion next week.

 

 

NOTE:  I had quite the long delay between my last post and this one.  I needed to step away cancer temporarily, though it never really leaves you.  I’m back, still recovering in many ways from treatment, and slowly getting stronger.  Being stubborn (and resilient) has it’s benefits!

I go in every six months (some have to go every three months) – August and February – for check ups.  I had my six month checkup on Tuesday, Feb. 5, and all bloodwork came back great.  YEAH!