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?

She's Radioactive

This week, I've been busy with a surgeon follow-up, a Herceptin Treatment and a MUGA Scan. I saw my surgeon on Monday afternoon and he was pleased with my progress and range of movement. Although I do still have quite a bit of numbness in my arm, chest and back, it is lessening and not unexpected from lymph node removal.

On Wednesday, I had my first Herceptin treatment since "the rash" and in all honesty, I was a tiny bit apprehensive, but nothing happened and the rash continues to be a mystery and luckily, just a memory. As I was scheduled for a MUGA Scan on Thursday morning, the nurse left my port accessed overnight, which took the IV anxiety out of the MUGA appointment.

Ok, you are asking yourself, what the heck is a MUGA. Here is more info than you wanted and this photo is of me having my MUGA! The MUGA scan (MUltiple Gated Acquisition scan) is a noninvasive test that assess the health of the heart's major pumping chamber (the left ventricle). The process is really very simple, but a little odd. They take a vial of blood and then go away for 25 mintues while they make your blood radioactive, then they come back with a white box with a big "Caution Radioactive" label on it, take a vial encased in metal out and then reinject the radioactive blood into the patient. The next part is easy - you don't even have to challenge the fashion police in a hospital johnny - just lie on the table, and the machine takes 16 pictures for each heart beat for 7 minutes. I had a MUGA back in March prior to beginning treatment and will have one every 3 months for the duration of my Herceptin treatment, as heart damage is a reversible side effect of Herceptin.

So, one week past my last chemotherapy treatment I am starting to feel much better. As expected, I did have a difficult weekend, and this one was a bit more emotionally difficult than in the past. I don't know if it was the change in my treatment drugs that Dr. Muss made, or the fact that it was wonderful weather and I was feeling a bit sorry for myself, but I'm sure I made my husband crazy on Sunday with a little more than my share of whining. Other than that, I did have a little more than usual nausea, but nothing too bad. I am beginning to feel better, and by all accounts will feel more and more like my old self each day now that the toxins are leaving my body for good.

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!

Treatment Update

First treatment with port access today. Last week access was left in after insertion, so I wasn't sure what accessing the port would actually be like until today. I must say, it made everything so much easier. Just a quick prick and slight burn with the administration of Lidocaine for numbing and then insertion of the needle which I didn't even feel. A quick 10 minute process with no anxiety, no pain and no boo boo's! I must admit, never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be singing the praises of having an "implanted vascular access device." I received my half hour dose of targetted therapy with no problems and was off on my way to the best medicine of the day - meeting my friends Becky and Cindy downtown for lunch.

I did experience a chemotherapy patients worst nightmare today - a windy day. I haven't really been covering my head much unless it's cold, but today since I was going out to lunch I decided to wear a hat - cute little newsboy number - and, yes, it blew off my head. After that I just gave up and went without cover - sometimes it just doesn't seem worth it to worry about it. Like I said to nurse Deb when she was worried that my bandage might show and I was heading out to lunch - it is what it is.

Feelin' Fine

So it's the 5th day since my last Chemotherapy treatment and I'm feeling quite well. On Sunday and part of yesterday, I did have pretty much a "maybe its better if I just lie down" kind of a day, but nothing really bad. I've been able to continue to walk either on the treadmill or outside for at least 1/2 hour every day and I've been able to continue to eat healthy meals. The first couple mornings I switched over to Carnation Instant Breakfast, but this morning had no problem with the pancakes and bacon we had to celebrate my mother's 87th birthday.

I've learned that one key to a successful morning is slowing the process of getting up (although I'm not sure that's possible for me - an expert snooze alarm manipulator). I've found waking up and having a few crackers and something to drink and waiting for 20 - 30 minutes diminishes the chances of long-term upset stomach, which is probably something all of you who have faced morning sickness already knew - but it's news to me. Also, a friend of mine gave me some great ginger chews which have proved to be quite helpful for settling my stomach - especially after eating. I'm working hard to continue to eat right, exercise daily and get enough rest so that the incredible machine we call a human body, aided by some pretty cool science, can do its thing and ensure I have a long and healthy life.

If you have any tips or tricks for getting through chemotherapy, or even just run of the mill stomach ailments, please feel free to share those in the comments section. THANKS!

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!

Any Port in a Storm

Well, it looks like the drama associated with IV 's will be soon be over. At a meeting at the clinic today, it was decided that I will receive a port implant on Thursday morning to help me weather the tempest that is chemotherapy and immunotherapy treatment delivery. The port is "installed" in my chest during a brief surgical procedure under local anesthesia. My procedure is scheduled for 7:00 am and once I've recovered, I'll be able to receive my chemotherapy treatment (a change from Wednesday to Thursday for those of you following along).

I spoke to a woman who had a port during my treatment last week, and it appears to be quite easy to manage, nothing bothersome and makes everything that much easier. Since I will be having treatments for a year it sure makes a lot of sense, and will take the worry of whether or not it will be a difficult insertion or not out of the chemotherapy equation. For anyone who knows me, I have a tendency to suck it up - just ask anyone who's heard my rant about how the doctor's never give me any drugs and everyone else gets all kinds of drugs. I've finally realized that this is the one time in my life I'm probably allowed to be a little less tough and there really is no need to have IV anxiety for another year.

For more info on Ports, please see link under Breast Cancer Links.

On another note. Today was my first day out and about in the world with no hat and my new "hair". I did go out on Saturday, but it was cold and I wore a hat. Today was in the 60's and I went au naturale to the hospital, Walmart, Marshalls, the Humane Society, the Bank, TJ Max, Rite Aid and P&C, so I guess I'm ok with how it looks now - hopefully will continue that when it's all gone. It felt great - it was warm and a little breezy - I've decided I can't wait to jump in the pool and feel the water on my head. A friend of mine once said hair is highly overrated and I'm beginning to believe him. Showers are shorter, no hair to blow dry, and definitely no bad hair days. Of course, I'm saying all this while I still have a little bit of hair on my head - I may change my mind once I've lost the last of it, but for now it's rather freeing.

Herceptin Treatment #3

No, you won't be disappointed. There was some light drama associated with today's Herceptin treatment. Another gloomy morning in Vermont awaited us as we made our way to FAHC and the clinic for my Herceptin treatment. Once there, I was weighed and blood pressured and led to the South Pacific Pod, overseen by a wonderful oncology nurse named Deb (seen here attaching my IV line). We settled in, the hot pack was applied and the moment of truth arrived - would the insertion be a challenge - YES IT WOULD. Deb gave it the old college try twice and turned me over to another, who after a few minutes identified a vein and moved forward with a baby needle. Into the skin we went and then there was quite a few minutes of deep breathing while she manuevered that IV into a vein that was playing peek-a-boo. The good news is last week Deb gave me instructions on focused breathing for relaxation which I had been practicing all week and that certainly came in handy today. Once in, the Herceptin flowed flawlessly for 30 minutes and we were done. Mission accomplished - more cancer cells killed today!

Herceptin Treatment #2

No photo shoot at this one....forgot the camera. My first weekly Herceptin treatment could have gone just a bit smoother, but then again, if there was no drama associated with it, I would have questioned the event! When Charlie and I arrived at Oncology at 8:50, there was a line to check in and barely a chair in the waiting area. Weigh in (lost a little) and blood pressure check in, and it was off to Chemo Pod #3 for the morning. I had a great location. The only chair in the pod with a window view and the chair was turned to face the window instead of the other patients. I'm trying to figure out how I can reserve the location for the next 3 months! Had a successful IV insertion, but there was a problem with my IV tree and that had to be switched out, so that the saline could be started. I shared my bone pain tale with the nurse and learned the reason - my white blood cell count was 37,000 - a typical count would be between 5,000 and 10,000 - so clearly my bones had been busy! The pharmacist delivered the Herceptin and I was promptly hooked up for my half hour drip. Charlie went to get coffee and I thought we'd be ready to leave by the time he got back. Not so fast.....come to find out, for about 45 minutes the Herceptin wasn't actually dripping after all, so the drip didn't start until Charlie came back with the cofee. We finally left at about 12:30. So that's 3.5 hours for a 1/2 drip every Wednesday for the next 3 months and then once every 3 weeks for the next 9 months.....of course, the good news is that chemotherapy patients have free parking - something which thrills my husband to no end. For months he's been asking at every department at the hospital if they validate.