Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Cure for those dang HOT flashes ....


Somewhere in this video is a crabby HOT flash cure ...


I love Maxine ....

No snow on the ground to try this one out, so, I'll continue to suck on ice, hoping to cool down from these horribly hot hot flashes.  Sometimes I get so hot, I get sick to my stomach & a brief head ache - similar to being over-heated working outside on a hot & humid summer day.

I see my oncologist today, and I'm excited because I think I have some good news!  I promise to report back later today about it.

Hoping everyone had a great Thanksgiving.  We drove over to Alpena, Lake Michigan (Thunder Bay)  side of the state, at a hunting lodge, deep inside the forest.  It was a beautiful day, and our Thanksgiving even more so.  We also adopted a baby tiger kitty, named Oscar.  He is tiny and fearless and very loving.  Nothing, and I mean nothing, scares this baby!   

Sunday, November 13, 2011

My adventure continues ...

I have a confession to make.  I've never really paid much attention to breast cancer.  As a woman, I'm sorry to admit my avoidance toward being more aware.  I wasn't entirely ignorant, and I did/do care.  I just didn't understand it as well as my contemporaries.   

When I was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer, my friends instantly understood the degree of trouble I was in before I did.  

I didn't expect to start chemotherapy so soon after diagnosis, but the surgeon determined the tumor, about the size of a baseball, was too large to safely remove. even as a mastectomy.  He recommended neoadjuvant therapy to hopefully shrink the tumor so later he could safely remove the breast, or better yet, just remove the tumor.

I had to immediately psyche and prepare myself to accept that dreaded toxic medication to be pumped into my veins.  If it meant a cure & a longer life, I was willing to hang my head over the toilet, nauseously puking my ever lovin' brains out.   I so dreaded and so feared the chemo, the sick stomach & the vomiting.  I cannot articulate how much all this troubled and scared me.  

So here I was, all prepared for my first bout of chemo and figuring I'd be bald by Halloween. I ordered headscarves and knitted caps for my future bald head from eBay.  My friend,  Terri, joked and encouraged me to be either lollipop'd Kojak;  Sinead O'Conner;  kick-ass Natalie Portman (V for Vendetta); or get my ass kicked & be Charlie Brown.  I was on my adventure, and the first stop was Halloween.
The day before my first chemo appointment, my oncologist  canceled the chemo & said we needed to talk.  She had the results from the Bone Scan & CT Scan that were performed just a few days before.

This is where everything went off the rails for me.  My doctor explained the cancer isn't just confined to the breast, but has traveled to my lungs.    It had metastasized.  It is incurable.  This changes everything, I'm told.  The chemotherapy is out - for now, but there is a drug that I will have to take the rest of my life.  This drug is used only in post-menopausal women, & it should shrink the tumor.

My reaction?  I wanted to shout "Yippee!"  No chemo for me!  No tummy aches! No vomiting over the toilet!  I remember the funny look the doctor had when I said this was a blessing in disguise.  Pills over chemo.  Yep, that was good news to me.

It wasn't until the drive home that it began to hit me, though, to be honest, it took longer than that to believe it.  

I am dying, and there's no cure.  My doctor told me during my last visit that she doesn't know how long I have.  She told me of a patient of hers that is 70 who asked her recently, as well, and the only answer the doc says she can give, is when the drugs stop working.

I'm not so sure why I wrote all this, most of it has already been blogged.  It could be that I'm trying to get a better grasp.  Right now I feel like I'm cheating, even though I'm not.  I know I am very sick, but refuse to accept it.  There is a difference between being positive and refusing reality.  I'm not so sure where I'm at, and to tell the truth, I'm not so sure I have to know. 

I recently blogged that I believe the tumor is shrinking.  I think that is wonderful news.  I'm hoping it's shrinking the cancer that spread into my lungs, too.  

There seems to be some good news on my cancer drug, anastrozole, (Arimidex). 

I confessed at the beginning of this post my ignorance to breast cancer.   But there's a lot of information out there on the web.  My doctor told me to be wary of what I read; and that she felt comfortable if I stuck with the Mayo Clinic and the National Cancer Institute. Below, from the National Cancer Institute I thought I'd add information on a couple of the tests one may need after the initial diagnosis.  I've included only one stage, and that is Stage IV.
Don't get me started about the hot hot flashes.  Oy ...

Staging

If the biopsy shows that you have breast cancer, your doctor needs to learn the extent (stage) of the disease to help you choose the best treatment. The stage is based on the size of the cancer, whether the cancer has invaded nearby tissues, and whether the cancer has spread to other parts of the body.

Staging may involve blood tests and other tests:
  • Bone scan: The doctor injects a small amount of a radioactive substance into a blood vessel. It travels through the bloodstream and collects in the bones. A machine called a scanner detects and measures the radiation. The scanner makes pictures of the bones. The pictures may show cancer that has spread to the bones.
  • CT scan: Doctors sometimes use CT scans to look for breast cancer that has spread to the liver or lungs. An x-ray machine linked to a computer takes a series of detailed pictures of your chest or abdomen. You may receive contrast material by injection into a blood vessel in your arm or hand. The contrast material makes abnormal areas easier to see.
  • Lymph node biopsy: The stage often is not known until after surgery to remove the tumor in your breast and one or more lymph nodes under your arm. Surgeons use a method called sentinel lymph node biopsy
These tests can show whether the cancer has spread and, if so, to what parts of your body. When breast cancer spreads, cancer cells are often found in lymph nodes under the arm (axillary lymph nodes). Also, breast cancer can spread to almost any other part of the body, such as the bones, liver, lungs, and brain.

When breast cancer spreads from its original place to another part of the body, the new tumor has the same kind of abnormal cells and the same name as the primary (original) tumor. For example, if breast cancer spreads to the bones, the cancer cells in the bones are actually breast cancer cells. The disease is metastatic breast cancer, not bone cancer. For that reason, it is treated as breast cancer, not bone cancer. Doctors call the new tumor "distant" or metastatic disease.

  • Stage IV is distant metastatic cancer. The cancer has spread to other parts of the body, such as the bones or liver.
  • Recurrent cancer is cancer that has come back after a period of time when it could not be detected. Even when the cancer seems to be completely destroyed, the disease sometimes returns because undetected cancer cells remained somewhere in your body after treatment. It may return in the breast or chest wall. Or it may return in any other part of the body, such as the bones, liver, lungs, or brain.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Hot Flashes ...

Where to start?   My last post I was looking forward to my Oncologist appointment because I wanted the doc to agree that my baseball size tumor was shrinking.

But first things first, since beginning my cancer medication (9/27), I've been having a lot of very hot hot flashes.   And, boy, they are sizzling hot.  When I told the doc, she clapped her hands, and with a big smile told me that it means it is working!  YAY!

Anyway, about the shrinking tumor.  The doc reminded me that I had a good deal of swelling from the biopsy when she initially measured it, so while it does seem to be shrinking, she can't confirm it.  I haven't noticed any major shrinking since that last appointment.

The cancer has not spread into my bones, but osteoporosis did appear on the Bone Density test.  That explains why I'm nearly a full 2 inches shorter & why the kitchen cabinets are built higher than they use to be.

Since that last appointment I've had a dildo looking Endo-vaginal Ultrasound.  Oh, boy, that  was a dignity teaser.   It all looked good, but since I've been having post-menopausal bleeding, my Oncologist wants a consult with a GYN.   

Well, it's about 5:30  in the morning, and I ought to be in bed.   There's more to write about, I suppose, but this is it for now.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Snowflakes ...

Big fat snowflakes falling beautifully and melting as soon as they hit the ground.  

Happy and sad.

Or depending on how one might look at it, like, say, next March, it might be sad and happy.

But for now, I'm happy to see it!  

Oh, wow, is it ever coming down!


Tuesday, October 25, 2011

I am such a bad blogger ...

First things first:  Two months until Christmas!  Ho! Ho! Ho!

The whole idea of blogging is to write at least a few lines on a regular basis.  I get it; and even knowing this, I've been a bad, bad blogger.

There aren't any excuses to explain it away.  I think I already mentioned that I don't like to be the center of attention - which might make anyone ask why in the world I chose to blog? 

Good question.  Really, good question.  While I think some of it has to do with that, the other is I am in such a quandary.  I don't know where I am in life, and that confuses & puzzles me.  Everything just seems to be scattered.  I don't know how to explain it.  I don't think it's suppose to be explainable.  How can you make sense on anything that has so many open-ended questions?
 
Someone sent me a link to a breast cancer website, & I realize it was sent to me with good intentions; it ended up depressing me.  You  decide .   I have not read it.  I don't want to read it.

I meet with my oncologist tomorrow afternoon.  We scheduled my Vampire day at hematology just before the doctor's appointment.  Tomorrow I should learn about the bone density scan & see if the tumor is shrinking (I think it is).  I have a lot of questions.  I really like this doctor, & as much as I hate going to the doctor's, I'm looking forward to this visit.

I've been taking my cancer drug 29 days now.  I think the tumor is shrinking.  The tumor just may have moved around a little or maybe it's my imagination, but I am sure hoping to learn it is a little smaller.  Wouldn't that be great?  The biggest side effect I have with this drug so far, is the hot flashes.  I actually feel as if I'm sitting next to a furnace.  I do itch, and I've lost head hair, though my hair was thinning even before taking this drug.  But it does seem as if I'm losing more than I was before.  Who knows?  The hot flashes will come in handy this winter.

I have to hand it to my son.  He is with me for each of my appointments.  I am thankful for his support, but I worry about becoming a burden.  I have to eat before they Vampire my blood, so we'll have brunch out at the Cracker Barrel.  I'm hoping for pancakes & bacon. Mmmm ....   

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Today is Vampire Tuesday ...

I'm scheduled for a Bone Density test today at 9:15.  From there, a quick stop at the doc's office to have blood labs drawn, then at 2pm -  just like last week, another 500mL of blood removed.  I hope it goes better than the last time.

Best part of today will be lunch out with my son.   

I keep forgetting to blog, I think of what I'd like to write, but then I get sidetracked and forget.  That's not good for the blog, is it?

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Sock it to 'em, Tigers!



ACLS  Championship 
Game 1 - NYC
DETROIT TIGERS  vs New York Yankees
Friday, Sept. 30
8:37pm

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

It's a funny thing ...



It wasn't until we were driving home from the clinic yesterday when my son said the word 'terminal', that I got the first inkling what this all means.

As the doctor was telling me I would be on medication for the rest of my life; talking about 2 years & possibly up to 10 years - all that was registering in my mind was "Yippee, no chemo!" No throwing up. No nausea. "Yippee!"

Now, I understand the unusual look on her face when I said this was a blessing in disguise. "Pills instead of chemo."

All along I've been a rational patient, taking notes, asking questions; and then the most seriously important information she could tell me, flew right over my head.

Maybe that's why the nurse later gave me a big hug.

Mentally & emotionally, I'm fine. At least I think I am.
 
(I wrote the above to my friends on another website.  But the car ride is so profound to me that I feel it's important to include it here.  I think there's more to write about when reality hit me during & after that car ride, but that's for later.)

I've slept only about an hour since 6am, yesterday (Tuesday).  I was too keyed up to sleep last night, & even during the day today.  I've got the Tiger game on now & am ready to relax.)

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Mystery is a speedbump ...

I'm going to keep this brief because I'm still trying to wrap my head around this.

They found from testing last week, that I have Metastatic Breast Cancer.  It is incurable. 

Chemotherapy & radiation are out, for now, at least.  I've already started on treatment, which is hormonal therapy.  (I took my first dose after dinner, at 7:17pm.)  The hope is this will begin to shrink the breast tumor.  Whether it does or does not, there are other courses of treatment that can be prescribed.

Also, my blood is very thick - Polycythemia.  I have to go weekly to have blood drawn - the nurse removed 500mL today.  It was so thick that my blood stopped flowing through the first tube & she had to start again with another vein.  Some of the blood is being sent to the Mayo Clinic for testing.

From the ECHO test - my heart is good & strong.

When I get my wits together, I'll blog further.  My brain is exhausted.

Off to a crossword puzzle & watch a little TV ...

Monday, September 26, 2011

My adventure has a mystery ...

FFS, I've never been an alarmist, so I'm just going to refer to the doctor's  call today as my adventure's great mystery.

Now, I feel better.  Sorta helps take the knots out of my tummy. 

Dunno what to think ...

Looks like my first chemotherapy treatment tomorrow is canceled.  

My oncologist left a couple of troubling messages this morning.  After reviewing my Echo & Cat Scan results, she canceled the chemo.  Doc said she'd be out of the office the rest of the day, but wanted to see me this week to discuss the chemo schedule & change in treatment.

Seven minutes later she called again, telling me to come into the Out Patient clinic tomorrow morning, as planned, & she would talk to me there.

I dunno what to think.  This certainly throws a monkey wrench into my psyche.  As crazy as it sounds, I was finally looking forward to tomorrow's chemo - you know, to get the show on the road.  Toward recovery.

Why can't things be more simple?  

I find myself diagnosed with breast cancer, but the surgeon says it's baseball size is too big to safely remove surgically.  He sent me to the oncologist for consult & to also begin chemotherapy.  This is called neoadjuvant therapy, or treatment given before the primary therapy, which is the surgery.  The chemo would shrink the tumor for safe removal.

Both the surgeon & the oncologist were concerned the cancer may already be in other parts of my body.  This past Friday, I had the Echo, Cat Scan & a Body Scan.  I suppose their results are not good news.  What else can I think?

I feel so lost & lonely.  No one to talk to about this.  My son isn't prepared to discuss it.  I know he's concerned, but what can he do but tell me to hang in there.  

In my life, nothing has come simple.  There's always a twist.  A monkey wrench.  I truly believed I earned to live through my golden years in the most peaceful & simplistic way as possible.  I finally was beginning to accept the cancer, but now, I don't know what I'm expected to accept tomorrow. 

My adventure ...

 
I woke up this morning thinking it was Monday, and immediately went into a panicked spin.  I didn't want it to be Monday. Not yet.  Once I turned the TV on & saw 'Meet The Press', well, of course that meant it was Sunday. What relief. 

Tuesday, the 27th, I start my first regiment of Chemotherapy. 

I'm hoping this blog will help me through this new adventure, because I don't know what to do with my thoughts as I think them.  Outwardly, I've been stoic.  Inwardly, I'm a mess.  Is it possible to be a stoic mess?  Or a messy stoic?

I recently was diagnosed with breast cancer.  It's grown to about the size of a baseball, & the doctors wonder if there isn't cancer elsewhere.  This past Friday, my oncologist sent me in for an Echo, CT Scan, & a Bone Scan.  I suppose I'll learn something new from these tests this week.

So here I am, late Sunday night, & unsure of what to write.  I don't like being the center of attention.  I'm the one who prefers to sit in the background quietly soaking it all in. 

Maybe all I need to do is get this initial post out of the way, & the next one will be easier.