The Cancer

I sat down last night, right before bed, and thought, “is it really here.” Tomorrow is the last day.

That tomorrow is now today.

It has been exactly 295 days.

295 days since a radiologist walked into a tiny little room and said, “I’m afraid I have not great news.”

Everything before February 15, 2017, will forever known as “Before This.” Everything after December 7, 2017, will be known as “After This.” The in between… That was cancer.

My dreams last night were a mixed bag of everything I’ve experienced in those 295 days. The constant battle with the boy for not picking up after himself. The fear that the cancer really isn’t gone. Walking into today’s appointment and my doctor abandoning me with more questions. A hurricane (the emotional gravity of everything I’ve experienced). And yes… cheeseburgers.

Over the past 295 days I have had both breasts removed. I have had my body pumped full of highly toxic chemicals. I have had 1/2 of my chest burned off. I have come to realize that it is not the cancer that we survive, but rather the treatment. There were many days that I would have gladly given up. There were days that I silently begged for the cancer to just take me because the pain was too great. Then I would open my eyes and see these two remarkable men looking at me and willing me to live. Their eyes showed pain and worry. Worry about what it would be like with only two instead of three, or one instead of two.

I pressed on.

I’ve now come to After This. I’m starting on the upward swing of grief… I hope. I’ve been at the bottom of it for so long I’m not sure there is light up there anymore. What light there is will be so much different that the light on the other side of that chasm of grief. I’m not the same person I was Before This. I listen a little more intently and talk a little less. I watch the details in life a little more closely. I take every moment in and savor it.

Today my life-line of fighting is cut. I’m on my own. This journey isn’t over, but the active fighting is done. I’ve reached the point of armistice with my body.

I am going to do my best to trust that all of the suffering I’ve endured was for a purpose.

I’m just hoping that the purpose was so I could sit on a tropical beach with a fruity drink and just be.

One would think I’d be jumping for joy at the thought of my last chemo appointment.  To be honest I’m quite happy it’s over, but the actual infusion is really the easy part.

Yes, Saturday morning was my last Taxol infusion.  3 1/2 months, 8 rounds, many meds, countless naps, a bald head and numb digits later I’m finished.  No more chemo.  At one point I didn’t think I would make it this far.  After the 2nd round of Taxol I wanted to give up.  The side effects were so bad that the thought of having to get up the stairs to go to the bathroom made me cry.  So when I woke up Saturday with the thought of, “this is the last,” it wasn’t as joyful as it should have been. You see, I still had to go through the pain.

I’m now at day 5 in this cycle and feeling somewhat better.  I couldn’t work yesterday and would not be an effective teacher today so I took the days off.  A good portion of my right hand is almost totally numb.  The bottom of my right foot can’t feel much.  I still get shooting pains in my legs and arms.  This is a good day.  Tomorrow will be better than today.  The next day better than that.

Throughout this journey I learned what limits I will go to to survive.  I’ve learned that there is always something worse than what I’m feeling right now.  I’ve also learned that when I feel good I need to live life to its fullest.  The people in my house were my support network.  They cheered me up at my lowest points.  They listened when I didn’t want to have cancer anymore.  They remind me on a daily basis that a good friend is worth fighting for.

I also could not have gotten through this without an incredible partner by my side.  Derek sat with me at every appointment.  He held me when I cried and reminded me that I had no choice but to get through it.  I am so grateful to have someone like him.

So what’s next?

Friday I meet with my Radiation Oncologist.  We will start working on the plan for radiation treatments.  I’ll need to do 6-7 weeks of daily treatments.  The side effects will be nowhere near as bad as chemo.  I can expect some fatigue and there is the possibility of skin burning.  Truth be told I’m most afraid of radiation.  This will be chest wall radiation on the left side.  They’ll be radiating near my heart.  There is always the potential for damage to the heart or lungs.  I trust the techs and doctors, but I’m still scared.

In good news, I do get my port removed on the 13th.  My oncologist asked me when I wanted it removed and I said as soon as possible.  The 13th it is!  It will be nice not to have that cockeyed lump in my chest anymore.

So onward and upward.  This whole journey is nearly complete!

Two more to go!  

Despite the pain early in round #5 things finally evened out so that I could at least enjoy a little bit of life.  

Last Tuesday I played the part of a parent and took the boy to a doctor’s appointment.  Rather I should say that I attempted to take the boy to said appointment.  The all mighty keeper of the calendar told me the child had an appointment at 10:15 on Tuesday.  I had a physical therapy appointment at 1:00 so appointment, lunch appointment and we’d be good!  Only we showed up to the pediatrician’s office to be told that the appointment was on Wednesday.  Fun times.  Fun toll bridge times.

Since we had time and I wasn’t going to drive across the toll bridge multiple times in a day I decided that we would play tourist in our city.  We headed to Pike Place Market.  For the record, the market is completely overwhelming in December.  Now imagine a sunny afternoon in July when a cruise ship is in port.  The only saving grace was it was a Tuesday.  I should also mention that this was day 9 in a chemo cycle; probably not the best time to be pushing my way through a market full of tourists just off a cruise ship. However, I love Pike and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to stroll through with my favorite 12 year old.  

We laughed at tourists.  We smelled soaps.  We watched the ferries come in and go out.  We ate Dim Sum (no. Not gluten free.  Don’t give a shit).  We had a great afternoon.

Later in the week I did a little “gardening.”  I survived the heat and coasted my way to Saturday.

I woke up Saturday morning feeling ok.  I thought I would be able to walk in confident and say, “hook me up, let’s get this show on the road!”  Not so much.  About 30 minutes before we were to leave I started to panic.  1/2 an Ativan later I was a little more calm, but not looking forward to way lay ahead.

Bloodwork came back thumbs up so we were a go.  This week’s nurse was lovely and sweet.  She took very good care of me.  The infusion went smoothly.  Derek and I spent part of the time watching The Great British Baking Show and dozing on and off.  Before we knew it it was time to go home.  I was up to a few errands so we stopped by my school for watering and then ran down to Tukwilla to look at fabric for family room drapes.  

I’m now on day 3 and the pain is starting to set in a bit.  I’m having trouble sleeping so I’m sure a nap is in order this afternoon.  I’m trying to stay on top of the pain this time.  The CBD tincture I tried last time is helping.  I also picked up a Meadowsweet herb to try as a tea.  I’m damn determined to get up and down the stairs with no problems this time.

I want to thank everyone for their kind words here and on social media.  Pain is always a scary thing.  I thought I’d give you an update as to how things progressed.

Thursday was the worst of the pain.  After breakfast I attempted to take an Epsom salt bath.  It often helps with relaxation and the warm water loosens up cramped muscles.  While it was somewhat relaxing (I need a bigger tub) it did very little to alleviate the pain.  Since the pain was in the bones relaxing muscles wasn’t exactly helpful.  I tried more Tylenol and ibuprofen, but they wouldn’t even touch the pain.  

I could barely stand, but laying down was just as bad.  It was better for me to stay in my room most of the time because there is a bathroom on that floor.  Derek finally took matters into his own hands and made a trip to the local cannabis emporium.  He came home with a high CBD tincture.  A few doses of that finally alleviated enough of the pain that I could get out of the bed and shuffle slowly.

I find that when I’m feeling exceptionally shitty the one thing I want to do is get out and do something.  I’m sure it is my body’s way of telling me it will get your mind off of this.  I had Derek take me up to my school to pick up some catalogs that I’d ordered from a plant company as well as check on the plants in the greenhouse.  It did get my mind off of things.

I spent the rest of the evening on the downstairs couch.  We watched a movie and I winced in pain.  Near 9:30 I’d had enough and decided to go to bed.  Getting to bed was a whole different story.  It took a good long while to go up the 1 flight of stairs to my bedroom.  Once I got to the top I decided that sleep warranted the use of some stronger drugs.  I opted for the Vicodin.  A second dose at 2 am allowed me to mostly sleep through the night.

I woke up Friday feeling much better.  I still had some lingering pain in my ankles, but not enough to prevent me from getting around.  I was able to do some cleaning.  My girlfriends came that evening for a visit.  What a lovely distraction!  I kicked them out around 7:00 and spent the rest of the evening watching The Great British Bake-off.  

Saturday was even better as far as pain goes.  I spent time outside securing the back fence so the new chickens wouldn’t escape.  We also drove down to Shelton to attend my Uncle’s memorial service.  Riding in the car is not exactly pleasant, but I managed.  

Through this I learned that days 3 & 4 are going to be rough.  I’m just going to prepare for that.  Should the pain be more intense or last longer than 2 days I’ll bring it up to my team.  I know this is a side effect of this particular drug and there are many other women who have had similar reactions.  I can’t expect chemo to be roses and daisies.  A few days down is manageable.

I never finished my story on our great American road trip.  Here’s the bullet version:

• I learned how to milk a goat
• I learned how to make soap
• We drove to Vegas
• I was once up about $10, but then lost it
• I tried a Shake Shack burger.  It was m’kay
• We drove home

Now on to the latest round of chemo.

I was told that this new chemo drug (Taxol) would be easier than the last.  They call the last one the “red devil” for a reason.  I’m having a difficult time deciding which is worse.  With AC the main side effects are nausea and fatigue.  I finally got an anti-nausea med that really worked.  Other than one really bad day round #4 was tolerable.  The major side effect with Taxol has been pain.  I spent so many years prior to my hysterectomy in pain that I never wanted to go back there.  The pain then was an every day constant thing.  Taxol reminds me of that.  I’ll get to that in a minute.

Let’s talk infusion day.

Monday was my infusion and I needed to be to SCCA by 7:00 am for labs.  The infusion appointment was set for 9:00 am, but I was called back by 8:30.  Labs looked good so everything was a go.  The pre-meds for this drug included a steroid, Zofran for nausea, a heartburn med and Benadryl to combat the myriad of other problems that could happen.  Apparently a number of people have reactions to the carrier fluid the chemo drug is in.  

The chemo drug was set to infuse over 3 hours.  It is run slowly just in case there is some kind of reaction.  Of course I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t have some sort of adverse reaction to whatever drug I’m given.  About 1/2 way through the infusion I started to get a slight pain in my wrists and feet.  Any changes warrant a stop in the medication and a consult to the oncology nurse.  It was agreed that they’d stop the chemo for a bit and see if the pain subsided.  It did a little, but the word came to give me more Benadryl and slow the infusion down even further.  The pain went away, but of course the additional Benadryl made me even more tired.

All in all, the whole process took nearly 7 1/2 hours.  I’m fairly certain that the rest of the infusions will take just as long.  Fun times.

So back to that pain thing.

The rest of Monday I was mostly ok.  Tired, but ok.  Tuesday I spent working on planning for my floral design class and was just fine.  By Tuesday night I started to get a bit of pain in my legs.  It was difficult to get up and down the stairs.  Wednesday morning was a whole new story.  The pain had set into my legs and feet.  It also comes and goes in my arms.  I took Tylenol and Ibuprofen and managed physical therapy and an appointment with the oncology nurse.  She informed me that the pain should only last the first 24-48 hours.  By the time I got home and had lunch yesterday I needed a nap.  The nap ended up being 2 1/2 hours long.  I woke up in more pain, took more Tylenol and this time no relief.  The pain increased so much that in order to attempt to get some sleep I had to resort to the narcotic pain killers.  That bad.

I was hoping that things would calm down this morning, but it isn’t looking good so far.  I still have pain from my hips to my feet and ocassionally in my arms.  I’d like to avoid the narcotics if at all possible, but am willing to bite the bullet if need be.

I’ve been living with this cancer thing for over 5 months now.  I still have a long way to go, but it is wearing on me.  I’d like to think I have a positive attitude, but really I’m a little pissed off.  I’m angry that I have to go through this.  I’m angry that it is affecting my relationships.  I’m angry that it is affecting my quality of life.

I miss being able to do what I want when I want.  I miss waking up and being excited for the day.  I miss being independent.  I miss me.

Ok, let’s be honest.  Chemo always sucks.  They’re filling your body full of toxic poisons that require a myriad of other drugs to mitigate the symptoms of the actual chemo.  Even though you take that myriad of other drugs many of the side effects get through and it knocks you down to your most pitiful self.  This is me.  Or at least it has been me the past few days.

Infusion day wasn’t terrible.  I was tired, but it was doable.  Sunday wasn’t so bad either.  I can’t remember much of what I did, but I don’t recall it being all that bad.  Monday and Tuesday left me in tears both days.

After surgery I had days where I felt so horribly lazy, but I was in pain so I felt I had the right to be lazy.  With chemo it’s just a debilitating fatigue.  I can barely keep my eyes open and at times the most I can do is get up to go to the bathroom or go downstairs to grab a mediocre bite to eat.  

My big event Monday was showering and shuffling around the grocery store to see if there was anything that tasted good.  Beyond that I slept.  Tuesday I did go up to school because we had to take the boy for his last day (all of 2 hours).  I put away vases and cleaned up a few things.  I then came home to sleep most of the day.  My day long nap was enough to give me enough energy to water plants outside and make some dinner (with assistance).  However, I wasn’t able to eat much of the dinner.  

My wish is that today is much better.  Breakfast went down a bit easier this morning and I’m feeling a little more alert.  I slept a little better last night as well.

I hate all of this and know that it is only temporary.  Chemo will end just like surgery recovery.  Radiation will start and that will be hard too, but in the end the result will be a cancer free life.  Fingers crossed.