1 Month Post Chemo

I had been looking forward to my one month check up for a while now. I actually took the entire day off, thanks to a wonderful sub that offered me a free sub day. I ran a ton of errands in the morning, then met Tony at home for lunch.

It felt really weird to drive to Kaiser, being that it's been 4 weeks since our last weekly visit. I was sad when I checked in because it was not the same lady that I'm used to seeing. It was some strange guy sitting at her desk! I made such a big stink about it that Tony finally said she's probably on vacation and all of her teddy bears are still on her desk, so she still works there! Then we noticed that someone taped an arrow pointing to the elevator button because people have such a hard time finding it. I told Tony that there were just too many changes in only 4 weeks. How come those little changes affected me so much that day? I still can't figure it out. I mean, I was upset that we didn't take a picture of the stupid arrow made out of tape! That was just the beginning.

I felt really sad as I was walking down the hallway to my oncologist. We had to walk right past the chemo suite. Even Tony, who is not normally bothered by much, felt an odd sense of remembrance.

Anyhow, Dr. Chan referred me to a radiation oncologist to discuss the possibility of me needing radiation. I asked for the best one and his response was that they were all up-to-date. I said I'm sure they are, but I'd like to see the best one. He avoided my question and said that I'd see the technicians more than the doctor.

The big news this time is that I was prescribed Tamoxifen, a hormone blocker. I've read a lot about it, so I'm very familiar with the side effects. See, Tamoxifen is usually prescribed for people whose cancers feed off of the hormones estrogen and progesterone. I was estrogen negative and very slightly progesterone positive (2-3%). Studies have not shown that Tamoxifen is beneficial to people like me, but he wanted me to try it anyways. It is a five year commitment. The side effects are menopausal symptoms, such as hot flashes and mood swings. In addition to all that, muscle and joint aches can be a problem as well. I told him that all of those things will happen to me anyway because of my upcoming hysterectomy and oopherectomy. He agreed, but said that Tamoxifen would be intensify them. He also said that if my quality of life is severely affected by the Tamoxifen, I can refuse to continue it. I see him again in two months for a follow up. So far, Tamoxifen is a thumbs down for me. A daily pill that makes me feel like crap. No thanks. But I will take it and make a final decision in two months.

Here are some questions that I had prepared for him:

Me: Can I go to the dentist?
Answer: Yes, now that you are done with chemo.

Me: Can I tattoo my eyebrows? I mean, I know I can get double eyebrows if they grow back in a different spot, but it really stinks to draw fake eyebrows in EVERY morning. Sometimes, it takes 20 minutes to make them look the same!
Answer: Um, sure.

Me: Is there a special shampoo that will make my hair grow back faster?
Answer: No.

Me: But if there WAS a special shampoo, can I use it?
Answer: Um, sure.

Me: Are the Tamoxifen pills like huge horse pills?
Answer: No. (insert funny face here)
Tony (who never says anything during my visits): They're just regular horse pills.

Dr. Chan must think that I am so vain, which I admit to being, but come on now, wouldn't you have wanted to know those things? Well, maybe not the eyebrow thing, because that's just vanity speaking right there.

So...because he gave me permission to visit the dentist, I called as soon as I got into the car. They squeezed me in the following day. Turns out I need a root canal! Boo-hoo. Seriously??

*Sigh* Well, the good news is I have this entire week off from work. I will be having minor surgery on Wednesday to remove my port. Not looking forward to being awake while Dr. Morton opens the incision to pull the catheter out. I heard they superglue the incision back. To be honest, I'm scared!

Next Thursday, I meet with my radiation oncologist AND the endodontist for my root canal. Wish me luck.

No eyebrows. See what I mean, people? You would ask too.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!! XOXO

Mortality and Death

Today's topic is not meant to be morbid at all. It's just that these issues arise when you have been diagnosed with a life threatening disease. It doesn't help that I recently read a book narrated by Death himself. A great read, by the way. It's called The Book Thief, for those of you that might be interested.

For most of my life, I always thought that I'd live to a ripe old age. Not that I still won't or can't. Matter of fact, I think most people imagine themselves living until pretty much forever. Then something like cancer enters their life, and boom, they realize that they are mortal. TOO mortal. Here is a story I'd like to share:

Matthew has been learning about bats at school as part of an October unit. His class read the story Stellaluna, which is about a bat that lost his mom. One of the questions he had to answer was, "What would you have done if you were Stellaluna and had been separated from your mom?" His written reply, "I would have tried to find a new mom." I wanted to cry at my son's innocent response to such a simple question. Because, of course, to me, that answer holds a much deeper meaning. Kids are resilient, yes, I know that. But how much would my children remember me, at 4 and 6, if they were "separated" from me? I would want them to remember me, but I'd also want their lives to continue normally. I would want them to find a new mom. Matthew recently said that you don't need the person to physically be there because they will always be in your heart and in your brain. Spoken from the true mind of a six year old. 

We are all mortal. Every single one of us. Knowing that is the easy part. Accepting that is the hard part. 

Mom, the Alien

Here is how the last 30 minutes went in my house:

Me: Honey, I need you to take pictures of my head, so I can document my weekly hair growth.
Tony: Ok.....(with a weird look on his face.)

We started with the digital camera.

Tony: This is the best I can get.
Me: OMG. Is that what my head really looks like? The top has no hair at all? That's horrible. It's so ugly. By the way, I need a picture of my eyes too, so I can see my eyelashes.

We upload the photos and they really are hideous. I even debated on whether or not I should put these on the Internet for all to see. I ask Tony if he can use Photoshop to make them look better. He modifies them a little bit as the kids walk into the office.

Matthew: (looking at the picture of my head) Ewww...gross.
Tony: It's not nice to say that, Matthew.
Matthew: I thought it was an alien. I didn't know that was mom.

So, Tony decides we'd better use the DSLR to get a better shot. I was still not happy with the pictures, but he said that's what my head really looks like and there wasn't anything he could do to change that. I tried to Photoshop them myself, but nothing worked. So I present you with these unedited pictures of my spotted head and eyes with pokey lashes. The second picture almost looks as if I have eyebrows. But it's really just where they used to be. I hope to see some improvement over the next few weeks.

This weekend, I've been feeling pretty run down. It could be that Peyton and her cousins are all sick, and I could have caught a virus from them. My whole body was achy today, to the point where I could barely walk. I rested all day and it helped a lot, but it's back to work tomorrow. Report cards are due, and conferences are the following week. So there's no time to slow down and take a break.

On another work related note, my coworkers are absolutely wonderful. They spoke with the district and set up a bank where people could donate their sick days to me. Although chemo has ended, they are encouraging me to use those donated days to take at least one day a week off until the end of the school year. I think I will start doing that after conference week. An extra day off each week will help my body recuperate sooner. I just need to relinquish control and let others help me. That's been the hardest part so far. Asking for help and also accepting it. Sometimes, I think I'm invincible and I can do it all. Then I realize that I'm mortal, all too mortal for that matter. But let's save the subject of mortality for another post, shall we?

Words on My Last Chemo: Bittersweet

Here I am, on the night of my last chemo treatment. Sitting at the kitchen table, on my iPad, drinking coffee with pumpkin spice creamer, listening to the Enya channel on Pandora, with a Marshmallow Fireside scented candle burning away. Oh, and don't forget the jars of fresh flowers. Lovely. Can you imagine it? It looks like this:

So serene. So peaceful. I think I'm ready to meditate. I close my eyes for a few seconds and savor this moment. It's the small things, you know. That's all that really matters. A hug from a friend. A smile from a stranger. Brushing Peyton's hair. Watching Matthew dance. Staring at my husband without him knowing. Thinking about nothing and everything, all at the same moment.

I had a hard time sleeping last night because I had mixed feelings about today. It's a huge milestone, and I should be jumping for joy. Instead, I am sad and you can say, even a little depressed. My security blanket is gone. I found comfort in going to chemo every Friday. Today marked my 20th treatment since June. There was no gradual weaning process. It seemed too abrupt, kind of unfair to be honest. Going to chemo meant I was actively doing something to fight the disease. Not going means I'm venturing into unknown territory. The unpredictability of the future scares me. Not being in control of my life scares me. But my nurse reassured me that I have done and will do all that I can, and that is the best that I can do for myself. Bittersweet.

The nurses put a crown on me to celebrate my last treatment.

 

Close my eyes. Savor the moment. The music, the candle, a sip of coffee, and a smile slowly spreads across my face.

I love my friends. M and D surprised me this morning with balloons, flowers, and some very thoughtful gifts. They gave me Mentos (my fav candy), bobby pins, and hair clips! How I hope to be able to use them soon. After dinner, my brother and sister in law surprised me with a cake to celebrate this momentous day. Delish. Thank you guys for making today a special one. 

 

Remember. It's the small things. Laughing when Mace continuously tried to pinch my neck. Trying relentlessly to get a kiss from Airi. My dad giving me a kiss when he first saw my bald head. The way my mom carries Peyton out of the car every morning. The way Matthew walks down the steps at school. The way my sister fixes her bangs.  My brother in law and sis in law visiting and bringing me my fav drink from Ten Ren's. Tony washing dishes and telling me he doesn't need help. How M comes in my class every morning to ask how I'm doing. How D texts me every week to check on my health. The way my brother plays with the kids. The way my sister in law takes care of Matthew and Peyton. The way Emi smiles. How my cousin, Tai, is growing out his hair to donate it. I have to remind myself of the small things in life that make me happy. I have to write these things down because I don't want to forget. Ever. 

I can't wait to see my childhood best friend. She will be visiting us this weekend, along with her husband and two kids. They live in Texas and I have never met her children. The last time we saw each other, Matthew was probably about 2 months old. I'm very excited about her stay with us!! 

Whose idea was it to drink coffee at 10 pm? I guess I can catch up on some Jersey Shore. Can't wait to see the bar fight. The small things, ya know.

Taxol Side effects

I keep forgetting to list my side effects. Now I'm not one to complain, but if you ask me how I am doing or feeling, I will be completely honest. I feel run down and TIRED. My body aches everywhere. Peyton is pretty rough and it actually hurts when she tries to hug me really hard. Every week, the nurses run through a standard list of side effects. I usually answer none to mild for every question, but lately, I've been saying mild to moderate. Especially for fatigue and pain. It's pretty pathetic when I lose my breath just walking from my car to my classroom.

The neuropathy has also been an issue. My left toes are tingly and it hasn't gone away since last week. I have neuropathy in the tips of my fingers too. The oncologist classified it as a grade 1, which is very mild. He said at this point in time, he is not going to change the dosage of my last two treatments. If I had developed it earlier, he might've reconsidered. The nurse in the chemo suite was worried and she wanted me to inform them if it got any worse. But I know my oncologist is adamant about getting me to the finish line. My fingernails also hurt really bad. Not only are they gross to look at, but I have a hard time using my fingers to open things. 

I've heard the side effects can last for months after treatment. Let's hope that's not going to happen here.

Say what? Two more???

Anticlimactic. That's the word I used with my oncologist to describe my last chemo treatment. Since June, my life has consisted of weekly blood tests, chemo, and an overall tired, beat up feeling. With my last chemo scheduled for next Friday, it will be so weird to have my life almost back to normal again. Will there be a party in the chemo suite? Should I bring cupcakes and cookies for all the wonderful nurses? How will I celebrate? The answer is, I probably won't celebrate. It will be like any other Friday. When the machine beeps, I will walk out of there and wish all of the nurses a great weekend. Only this time, I will not say see you next week. I will keep walking and hope never to come back.

I received a reply from the surgeon that will be doing my hysterectomy. She wants me to take a 2-3 month break after chemo before I go back into surgery. I was really hoping to get it done at Thanksgiving break, but now it looks like January. The bright side is I will get to enjoy the holidays, hopefully with some hair to keep my head warm!

On the hair note, hmmm...I am very anxious to see it grow back. I have some new hair growth, but most of it is WHITE! Peyton keeps trying to pick at it, saying that I have string stuck on my head. When I told her that it was hair, she called me an old lady. Of course, to her, only old ladies have white hair. My eyebrows are 98% gone. There are exactly 2 strands on my left side and 5 on my right side. My eyelashes are about 95% gone. Actually, I see lots of stubby roots if I look closely enough in the mirror, like it's trying to grow back. My nose hairs are 100% gone. All of it. Who knew those little nose hairs were so effective at keeping runny noses at bay. With no more nose hairs, my nose runs all the time. Ick.

Until next time friends. Here is to feeling better soon!

Call Me Crazy

Wow, I can't believe how long it's been since I last blogged. I apologize to those who have been checking my blog, only to see that it hasn't been updated. Where do I begin?

I guess we can start with the known fact that yes, we've moved again. Crazy, you ask? No, I don't do crazy things like that. It's only the beginning of the school year, right in the middle of all my weekly chemo treatments. Adding a whole house move in the mix of it all would be insane. Insane!!

About mid August, I realized that my daily commute to work and getting the kids to where they need to be each morning was kicking my butt. I did two drop-offs last year as well, but cancer wasn't in the picture last year. Heck, I even enjoyed the commute. This year, I was really struggling to make it to work on time each day. Tony and I discussed possibly moving to the north Fontana area to be closer to my work, my parents, my brother, and to his brother.  The only con about this whole ordeal would be adding 30 minutes to Tony's daily commute. That's 30 minutes to an already hourly commute each way. However, in the long run, it is the best decision for our family, considering this journey is not over yet. Not even close. I have two major surgeries coming up in the next few months and I will need all the help I can get.

So, have we settled in yet? Nope. We still have things in boxes, but I can finally park in the garage. Tony scooted everything to the side so my car can fit. It doesn't feel like home. Coming home from work exhausted, then helping Matthew with his homework, dinner, baths, etc. You all know how it goes. Life gets in the way of unpacking and settling in. I need a day. Maybe two. Maybe three. Just to sit. Maybe lie down for a while. Maybe fold laundry. Or grocery shop. Or take a nice bath. Unpack some boxes. Think about life. Blog a bit. Catch up with friends. Or even forget about cancer. If only for a moment. I need a moment to breathe.