Treatment Attitude

Wow - I can't believe it's been almost a month since I last posted. No, I haven't been sick and everything is fine. Charlie and I went to Clearwater, Florida for some in person hugs with his family and a little R&R. The day after we got back was my dad's 90th birthday and then I started 2 on-line classes, so I've just been making up for some lost time. I did, after all, spend much of the last 6 months sitting on my butt getting nothing done.

This week when I went for my Herceptin treatment (aka targetted therapy) there was a woman sitting across from me in the pod and she was having a difficult time. Now here's the thing about these pods - they are just small enough so you can't really have a private conversation and just big enough that you can't really talk to someone in another chair without being disruptive. So, I of course, overheard her talking with the nurse about her hair beginning to fall out. She had shoulder length hair and was very upset. Her husband had left for a while to get something to eat and I could see she was emotional. I didn't want to drag my IV pole across the room, so I waited until I was finished to go and speak with her. The nurse had told her to cut her hair short because that would lessen the impact of the loss, and I told her that was a great way to go - we all remember my buzz cut. But I also told her that although it is upsetting when it first happens, it really becomes not such a big deal after the first few days. She looked somewhat releived and agreed that cutting her hair was probably a good idea.

Ok, so where I'm going with this story? I once again have to thank my mother for my attitude. One of the most important things she ever taught me was not to worry about things I couldn't change. Her exact words are "it's no use getting yourself all upset over something you can't do anything about." And she is right. You have cancer, you get chemotherapy and your hair falls out. Nothing you can do about it. And it's SO much more important to focus on the fact that the chemotherapy is working to save your life. The trick to getting through treatment is perspective. So what if you get bloated from steriods, your hair falls out and you feel sick to your stomach. It will be over in a few months and odds are your life will continue for years - isn't that what's most important?

Chemotherapy Treatment #3

Three treatments down, one to go. We had another busy and successful day at the Vermont Cancer Clinic. I was, of course, wearing my official chemotherapy ensemble which has at its foundation the wonderful Believe shirt provided by my friends Rob & Paula. When Charlie called them after my first surgery he used the phrase “we just have to believe we’re going to win, just like the Red Sox” (or something to that effect, I was still in recovery wondering if I was ever going to be able to open my eyes and not want to vomit). Rob got on the Internet and searched for a Red Sox Believe T-Shirt and shipped one up for both Charlie and I. As you can see I have worn this same shirt to each chemotherapy treatment because I do believe I will be a long-term cancer survivor!

Started off with a quick line insertion for a blood test (still loving that port), a visit with Dr. Muss, my Oncologist, who reviewed the blood test results and said I was doing great. Back to the South Pacific Pod to take my pre-med’s, which include a 125 gm pill and 2 bags of IV medication. The massage therapist came by and offered a foot massage, to which I happily agreed. Finally started with my first bag of toxins at 11:30 and finished up the third bag at 2:30.

Dr. Muss’ nurse Jean stopped by to check-in and say hello.

My quilt was quite topic of conversation in the clinic. A number of nurses and patients came over for a look and were very complimentary – both of the quilt and the great friends that put it together. I watched the video before I left home, so I started the day with an extra dose of love!

Wonderful Friends - THE MOVIE

For your viewing pleasure

Click on this two minute video of the day 14 of my Massachusetts friends got together to create a beautiful quilt for me which in their words is to "cover you or wrap around your shoulders during treatments to represent the friends who want to wrap you in their love."

Careful - it's a tear jerker....

Wonderful Friends

13 years ago, in the spring of 1995, I took the classified ad I had cut out of the paper and carried around with me for months out of my wallet and picked up the phone. A very warm and caring woman answered on the other end and changed my life! No, I wasn't calling a rehab - I was calling the Suburban Adventure Club (SAC) in Massachusetts. I told her of my circumstances and that I wasn't looking for a dating club, but wanted to take my life in a new direction. In her turn, she convinced me not only to give the club a try, but to go away for a weekend in Martha's Vineyard with a group of complete strangers. Believe it or not, I agreed. Those strangers, some I met that very first weekend, and others I met over the next months and years, have turned into some of the most important people in my life ( I did eventually meet my husband through the club). I can honestly say that without the lifeline of these friends, those first days and weeks of my diagnosis and surgeries would have been a completely different experience. Cards, letters, emails and gifts came pouring across the border to brighten my days and help me remember there were people out there who cared about me.

Then, a few weeks ago, a gift that cannot adequately be described in words arrived (see photo). They had a quilting day and made me a beautiful quilt which will allow me to wrap myself in their love and caring, not only as I continue through my treatment, but for the rest of my life. There have been very few times when I have cried through this process, mostly when I'm tired, but when I opened the package and realized the extent of what I was holding in my hands, I could not stop the tears (as I cannot stop them now as I write this). You may have noticed my new quilt in the Chemotherapy #2 treatment photos from last week, and you can be sure that you will see it in all the remaining treatment sessions.

Support is such an important part of cancer treatment. There are as many ways to support a cancer patient as there are patients that need that support. Just take a minute to think through what the person you know needs most – sometimes it’s a dinner or a ride and sometimes it’s just to be treated like a person without cancer and then a lot of the time, it’s just to let them know you love and care about them. And, as my friends have shown, there is the completely unexpected, and forever treasured.

One Busy Day

Today was quite a busy day! I arrived at the hospital at 6:30 and checked in at Registration, and yes, of course, there was some confusion surrounding my procedure and my chemotherapy. The person helping me had to get assistance to figure out what to do - nothing is ever easy. Eventually they figured it out and sent me on my way and I arrived at Radiology at 7:00 on the dot. I was called quickly from the waiting room to head to pre-op where a nurse inserted an IV line, checked vital signs and went over paperwork with me. Next a Physician's Assistant came in and went over the device and described how the procedure would work. Off we went to the operating room - get this - 15 minutes early. I received sedation through my IV and then some localized injections. I felt some pressure, which I understand was the manipulation of the catheter into the vein and seemed to be awake the whole time - the PA kept popping his head under the sheet that was stretched over me to check on me, he was very entertaining. I didn't experience any pain, other than some stiffness in my throat, which went away after the Oncology nurse changed the bandage for me. It didn't really seem to take too long and I was whisked off to recovery. This photo is in the recovery room after my english muffin and ginger ale! I left Recovery for Oncology at a little after noon time.


When I arrived at Oncology, I met with Dr. Muss who after a brief discussion decided to cancel my Neulasta shot tomorrow, it turns out that I have good bone marrow to start with and for women in my age group the medicine only drops the chance of infection from 8% to 4%, so the payoff for the pain I had from the injection wasn't there. Finished with Dr. Muss off I went to the clinic for my treatment. First blood was drawn (through my new port) for my genetics testing (more on than in a later post) and the saline and nausea medication drips were attached. Because my appointment was originally scheduled for yesterday, the computer hadn't
caught up with the change and there was some issue with the Pharmacy in getting my drugs mixed. I didn't start my Taxotere until 2:30, which meant with 3 drugs, I was there until a little after 5:00. It was great to have the drugs going in through the port - it left both my hands free, which makes it much easier when you have to pull your IV pole with you to the bathroom, to eat, and just to be comfortable while receiving treatment.

While I was having treatment, in the chair across from me was a woman in her 30's with her mother. They were obviously close and enjoying each others company. It made me quite sad that my mother can no longer provide that kind of comfort for me. She doesn't really understand what is happening and she certainly wouldn't be able to come to the clinic with me to provide comfort. It's an odd feeling to have my parents with me, but not have them really engaged with what is happening to me. Most of the time I'm fine with the way things are, but there are sometimes, I'd just like to be sick and not have to explain it all over and over again.

The day surely ended on a bright note - I have such wonderful friends who have all been so supportive - when I returned home today from this long day of treatment, there was a box of from Harry & David from a friend in Massachusetts. That was a great treat to come home to!