BTW 12/31/2009

During yesterday's chemo, I had the pleasure of watching the movie "The Hangover" (courtesy of Larry--THANK YOU!). I watched it on the laptop with headphones on, and so many nurses and staff came over to find out what I was watching, because I laughed out loud through the whole movie. This may be one of the funniest comedies I have ever seen. If you have the opportunity, treat yourself to this gem! See the imbd review here.

5 down, 1 to go 12/30/2009

As usual, the wait to see the doctor was about 35 minutes after my appointment time. My blood lab numbers are still good, so I was passed through to chemo. When the nurse inserts the needle into the port, they have to be able to know that the blood vessel that the port accesses is not scarred over, so they try to draw blood through the port. As has been my continuing problem, the nurse could not. At first, she had me stand up, and move around to try opening the vessel. No go after 4 tries. So she had to administer Cathflo, which dissolves the accumulated fibers the occlude the port. It takes 30 minutes to work, so I didn't start chemo til noon.

Here are some pictures of the chemo center. (Pictures are clickable for a larger view.) This is of my own chosen spot there-it's out of the way, away from the windows, so there's no glare on the laptop screen, and usually quiet.


This is of the nurses' station directly across from my chair.


This is of the window side of the center:


There are a total of 30 chairs there, each with its own TV, table and visitor chair.
As predicted I did "mask up" on check in to the chemo center. Pictures are too scary to post...
Ray brought flowers again today--what a peach!

It was bound to happen 12/29/2009

I woke up on Sunday morning with a sore throat. The sore throat progressed to a gravelly chest cough. Yeah, I have a cold. I must have caught it at work--one of the sales reps had a cold for the week before Christmas. But other than the congestion, I don't feel too bad. I already had drippy eyes and nose; the congestion is the trifecta!

Tomorrow is #5, and I think I'll have to wear a face mask to protect everyone else at the chemo center. I'll send pictures!

Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas!

Keep your fingers crossed 12/24/2009

I picked up an antibiotic/steroid prescription for my eyes today. Hopefully it will take the burning and itching away. That would be the BEST Christmas present...

Time off for good behavior 12/20/2009

Not much news lately, which, I suppose, is a good thing. This chemo cycle is shaping up pretty much like the others. The first week was not really bad, but not really good. The second week, I'm feeling more like myself. At the oncologist on Wednesday, I was told that since my blood labs have been consistently good, I can skip my doctor's visit this coming week. Small thing, but it's nice to have a bit of freedom from the doctor's office.

My eyes are still the major issue for me these days. They water (cry) constantly. If I dab at them, they get really red, and if I let the tears just roll down my face, my face gets irritated and red. Imagine crying all day, every day. Let me tell you, when I can lie down and go to sleep at night, it's heaven to be able to close my eyes. When I wake up in the morning, I have to pry my eyes open because of the dried gunk. The oncologist tells me that this effect will go away about 4 weeks after my last chemo (January 19th)--none too soon.

One really good note, though--I can't feel the original tumor.

The weekend after 12/13/2009

Maybe it's because I slacked off in drinking water (it helps to flush the poisons out of your system), but this weekend was one of the crappier weekends lately. My stomach has been somewhat upset, and that gross metal taste is VERY pronounced, making even water unpalatable. I keep telling myself that "this too shall pass" (See Alex? I do try to listen to myself...), and I am back to drinking copious amounts of water. Laying like a lump on the bed after veging out to one too many HGTV shows (how many Designed To Sell programs could you watch in a row?), I found myself thinking of the great places Ray and I will see this summer, when most of treatment is done. (After chemo, surgery and radiation is complete in early May, I'll still have Herceptin infusions every 3 weeks til next October. But the Herceptin doesn't have the same effects as the Taxotere and Carboplatin, in that its major downside is that it can damage your heart, but it doesn't mess up the rest of your body. I swear I'm going to have a party when they pull this port out of my chest next October.)

It's a very cool exercise to imagine every detail of hiking on the trail--how good you feel: how great it is to breathe deep, feel the wind on your face, your legs stretch, and just listen to the quiet around you. How beautiful it is! So I took a mental trip on Saturday, one that I will repeat for real in July, for sure.

Snow and less waiting 12/9/2009

Today when we left for chemo, there was 4-5" of snow on the ground, and the back roads hadn't seen a snow plow yet. It was, in fact, snowing like crazy.

Although traffic was heavy and slow, the ride was non-eventful. The best surprise was that I was able to walk into the lab for blood work with no waiting, I was called into the exam room shortly after I checked in, and actually got to see Dr. Brown in a few minutes. Chemo started at 10:00 or so.

I thought you all might like to see the needle that is inserted into the port in my chest for delivery of the chemotherapy drugs.
Here it is. The needle looks like it's about 3/4" long and is at the end of what looks like a pushpin. The one in the picture is covered by a safety plastic sheath.
This is the type of port that was implanted in my chest for delivery of the chemo drugs.

How Fast Time Flies 12/4/2009

It strikes me how fast the time flies in week 2 and 3 after chemo. All of a sudden it seems that the next chemotherapy is upon us. This Wednesday is #4--oh joy. It's not the infusion session itself that's annoying, but the week after, when I'm really not feeling "myself". As Ray would say :"Just one more telephone pole...."

The concentration-camp-junkie look 11/30/2009

I'll spare you all the horror of actual pictures, but suffice it to say that these days I'm sporting what I like to call the Concentration-Camp-Junkie look. Who knows, maybe the look will catch on in trendier circles? Nah, probably not.

To master this look, just shave your head, and peel onions, or watch sad movies all day. The latest twist to my journey through cancer treatment comes in the form of watering eyes. I'm not talking just glazed eyes, I mean CRYING eyes. Not just at times, but all day. From the time I wake up til the moment I close my beady, swollen eyes to sleep, tears just spill down my cheeks. I recently went to the funeral of the wife of a friend. While the service was sad, I didn't cry---but I did. I felt somewhat like a fraud, wiping away chemo tears that were mistaken for sad ones.

The other delightful visual effect that adds to my new look is a runny nose. When you lose ALL your hair, you can lose ALL your hair--even nose hairs. Apparently nose hairs, while under-appreciated by most people (never by me, ever again, I might add), keep dust from entering your nose--dust that causes your nose to be runny. Add that to the nasal congestion that is directly caused by chemo, and I think you get the awful picture: The Concentration-Camp-Junkie look: bald, with red, puffy, teary eyes, and a runny nose.

Thanksgiving 11/25/2009

I find myself with lots of opportunities to remember how grateful I am for all the wonderful people who surround me, all my memories, happy and sad, and all the gifts I have been given over my life. A few years ago, I put together a slide show that pretty much says it all for me. Check it out here.

This Thanksgiving, I will be thinking of all of you, and praying for your health and happiness.

Crash after the steroids 11/22/2009

The day before, the day of and the day after chemo (Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday), I take steroids, as an anti-nausea defense. The steroids not only do that, but also give a little buzz, that keeps you feeling pretty good and peppy...that is, until they wear off. It appears that my wear-off time is the Saturday after chemo. On Friday, I worked and went to the gym as usual--2.5 miles on the treadmill and some stretching and lifting weights. On Saturday, I got up, ate breakfast, showered, dressed, and...went back to bed. To say that I had little energy would be overstating the situation. A major effect of the chemo for me has been that my eyes are puffy and constantly water. And I do mean they well up so that the tears flow. It seems like that situation is getting more acute the further into treatment I go. That metal taste is strongest starting on Saturday as well, and I just can't get enough Orbitz gum and Pep-o-Mints to take the taste away. I'm keeping acid stomach at bay with Zantac.

Today I do feel better, and expect that Saturday's lethargy will fade as the days go by. I just need to flush all those poisons out of my system.

3 down, 3 to go 11/19/2009

Yesterday started the same as the last 2 treatments--waiting, waiting, waiting. I got to see the oncologist about an hour after my appointment. 45 minutes later, I started my infusion. I had expected to make a few work calls, and then watch a movie, and maybe take a snooze. I landed up doing work on the phone and computer for the entire session. I was all done by 3:45. And Ray, sweetie that he is, brought flowers when he came to pick me up, even against my admonitions that he did not have to do that EVERY time.

I did have an interesting conversation with the attending nurse. I had mentioned to her that I had received a letter from my insurance company saying that they were not going to pay for a $3260.00 chemotherapy service without further information from the oncology office. When I got the letter, I thought, "What's the question?--I have breast cancer, I'm getting chemo, right?" Not so fast. It turns out that the charge was not for the chemo itself, but for the Neulasta shot I get the day after to boost my white blood cell count. $3260 for 1 shot??? $3260 for 1 shot!!! Apparently, the insurance companies require a separate approval for those shots. But they will pay it because that's cheaper than dealing with the possible complications caused by neutropenia (low white blood cell count). Don't those pharma companies have everyone by the short hairs???

My oncologist has ordered a sinus CT to see what may be going on there. I have constantly puffy and watering eyes.

Thanks for all your good wishes and prayers. Keep them coming, because things seem to be moving positively. Love to you all.

Advice not to follow 11/16/2009

I was more than a little disturbed to read this article in today's news. Many of you know that I found my tumor by doing a (not-so-regular) self-exam. Mine is an aggressive form of cancer, and apparently had developed and spread in the 5 months since my previous mammogram. Had I not done a self-exam, who knows how much the cancer would have spread in two years.

I was struck by this statement--"In most women, tumors are slow-growing, and that likelihood increases with age." Do you want to be the one woman, like me, whose tumor is fast-growing, and whose tumor goes undiagnosed for a year or two?

Bottom line is --Do self-exams, and get a yearly mammogram. Breast cancer doesn't always happen to someone else.

Fending off the negative 11/6/2009

I try every week to go to the gym at least 4 times. I can't go one day of the week because I have to go for a blood test and office visit that day. This past Monday, I decided to show up with my head "au naturel"--aka bald. I sweat way too much to bother wearing a scarf. Because I go to the gym at about the same time every day, I usually see the same people, and we know each other just enough to smile and wave at each other, or say "Hi". Monday was no exception, but my bristly head did cause a few to stop me and ask what was up. "No", I told them, "this is definitely NOT a fashion statement." And I then confirmed what they had guessed was the reason for my bald head. And then I was confronted with the very thing that I really have wanted to avoid--negative thinking. The negativity isn't meant to be hurtful or mean, but rather helpful, I'm sure.

It seems that everyone knows someone who has had cancer of some type, and I well know that everyone's story and experience of it is unique. But I really don't want to be told, as I was by one of my burly gym confederates, that by chemo #4, I would probably be so tired that I'd only be able to work half days. And it doesn't help me to be advised that I might (like one woman's mother) have "chemo brain" after treatment was done, a condition that diminished her mother's memory. (It came back, I was reassured, after her mother engaged in some complex computer games.)

Believe me, I am not a stupid person, and I have read all the potential side effects and outcomes of my cancer and its treatment. The best thing anyone could say to me would be "Well, you're tough, and I know you're going to beat it!" I believe that people create their own reality, and you best create positive outcomes with positive thinking.

It seems that the pattern of chemo #1 has repeated itself in #2. It takes about a week to get most of the really bad poison out of my system, then I start feeling more like myself. As my red blood cell count has declined (I keep a spreadsheet of my blood numbers on a weekly basis.), I can see that fatigue comes on earlier. I do sag at about 3 in the afternoon.

I do have to be careful about infection though. I developed a staph infection from a paper cut. But I had gone to my PCP when I saw that it was infected, and she drained it and gave me an antibiotic. No harm, no foul.

All in all, life is good.

Pictures 10/28/2009

Inmate # 256314798

The red is chemo flush...

A hairdresser's nightmare 10/28/2009

If I looked like this, maybe I wouldn't mind the new buzz cut. Well, Natalie Portman actually has longer (and more) hair in this photo than I do right now. Yesterday I went to the salon to be sheared (as in what they do to sheep), and get my new wig. I knew that this was what I wanted, but the actuality was a bit more daunting than the anticipation. My hair was buzzed off while the chair was faced away from the mirror. When the stylist spun the chair around for me to view my newly shorn head, I was somewhat taken aback to see this older strange-looking woman staring back at me. I can honestly say that I "had a moment" then. But I'm fine. Actually, I was thinking that a fabulous, and easy Halloween costume for me would be that of a female prisoner in the Soviet gulag. That's what I look like (hardly like Natalie).

The wig is good, I have a few head covers so that when I go out, I don't scare young children and dogs. (Pictures to come.)

Probably the most annoying part of this treatment is the waits at the doctor's. This morning, I had an appointment with the oncologist at 9:20, having had my weekly blood tests at 9:00. I arrived in the onc office at 9:10, and was called in for my appointment at 9:45. A nurse came in to check my vitals, and then told me that Dr. Brown would be in to see me "in a few minutes". At 10:25, Dr. Brown came in to do her exam, and was gone in 7 minutes. I'm thinking "Great!, now chemo can start." O silly me! The chemo drip didn't start til 11:45. As Ray counseled me (to quote Frank Costanza, father of George on Seinfeld) Serenity NOW!!

Edit: I just read something I hadn't seen in a while, posted now on The Good Stuff blog. It reminded me of what's really important. Please check it out.

Shedding like a dog 10/25/2009

Thursday night Alex called me and as I was talking to him, I ran my hand through my hair. Several strands came away with my hand. Then I gently tugged at a few strands. They came away with ease. The shedding has begun. Right on time. I've read that hair loss begins somewhere around the 2nd to third week after your first chemo. Bingo! I'm guessing that by the end of the week I'll be sporting my new purchased "do".

At any rate, I'm doing great. Round 2 comes this Wednesday.

No Sweat----so far 10/17/2009

A week and a half out from my first chemo, and I'm here to tell you that I'm doing great. Thursday was the first day that I really felt "like myself" since chemo. I had slept well the night before, the headache was mostly gone, I went to work and the gym (for a great workout), and all-in-all felt good.

I do realize that this is a long journey (by my estimation, I'll be done the chemo, surgery and radiation by early May), and it is a roller coaster one at that. The little things--my mouth is inflamed, and everything tastes metallic, are minor inconveniences.

Your prayers lift me up. Keep em coming.

Thanks and love to you all.

I scream, you scream, we all scream, for... 10/13/2009

I'm not sure if it was the Neulasta shot (to boost white blood cell count) the day after chemo that did it, but I spent Friday through Monday with a killer headache. (The headache is still there, but isn't debilitating). Friday I did a half day at work. By 1:00, my eyes felt like they were burning a hole in my head, and I left for home.

On Monday I was back in to work. I must say I felt better after a good sweat at the gym. But the headache was hanging in there. Other than tiredness, a constant taste of metal in my mouth, a bit of gastrointestinal distress, and nasty symptoms that Preparation H and a cold pack helped to abate, I'm doing pretty well.

I'm on the hunt for any foods that taste good. Ray was an absolute angel for going out on Friday night to get ice cream. Food of the gods!!! Not only does it take that metallic taste out of your mouth for the time you're eating it, but it feels so good going down! Watermelon is another treat. Sorry to say that some of the things I liked before taste gross--tea, for example. Jenna has suggested that sweet and salty are good. I think she's right--peanuts and almonds taste good. If potato chips didn't rip up the inside of my mouth, I could probably eat a bag a day. Thank God they WOULD irritate my sensitive mouth. I don't want to begin thinking about the result of 1500 calorie daily binges...

Bottom line, is that I'm gradually getting used to the fact that life as I knew it is gone, and I've got to get used to a new reality. While I really want my old body back, I CAN learn new tricks. I can do anything. I can even do chemo....and win.

My new life 10/10/2009

The day after chemo, I must say, I was feeling pretty chipper. I got up, did a laundry, did a brisk walk over 3 miles, then crashed. I had woken up with a very flushed red face, and called in to the onc office to find that this was fairly common, and due to the steroids. All in all, I was feeling pretty good. If this was all I had to deal with, then I'd ace this test. Steve came up on Wednesday night and took me back to the onc on Thursday for my Neulasta shot--to boost white blood cell count. It's really hitting me now that for the next year, my life will be a never ending series of doctor's offices, shots and tests. The schedule is: chemo, shot the next day, then back for blood labs once a week until the next chemo. I'll be continuing the Herceptin infusion every 3 weeks for the next year. I'm going to have a mini-party when they remove the port from my chest.

Then came Friday. Back to work. By the time I got to work, I was still feeling OK. I started to work on a particular project, and by noon, my eyes felt like they were going to burn out of my head, and fatigue washed over me like a tidal wave. I crashed and burned by 1:30. Back home, I vowed to pace myself better going forward.

Last night without the steroids, I slept much better, and feel pretty good this morning.

1 down, 5 to go 10/7/2009

Ray arrived at about 1:40 with roses. What a good guy! He had to wait around til 5:00 when the infusion was finally done. We're home now, and I am just so tired. I think it's because of the very little sleep I got because of the dexamethasone last night and today. Even today I only slept about 20 minutes. This picture was taken as we were leaving .

Sending in the marines 10/7/2009

I arrived at the infusion center just before 8:00 am, and then met with Dr. Browne, my oncologist. After preliminary checks of weight, bp, pulse, chest sounds, I asked her the laundry list of questions with which I had come prepared. Ready, set, go--to infusion room #3, where I was greeted with a comfy chair, table, wireless internet, and 42" lcd tv. The first attempt to access the port was unsuccessful--the nurse (Melissa) wasn't able to draw blood. A second attempt, and a second insertion of this god-awfully long needle proved successful after I got up and moved around to perhaps uncrimp the port tube in my chest.

First up is an anti-nausea, benadryl drip, then more dexamethasone. Then the first wave of marines get sent in via the taxotere.

Will be back to you later.

The results are in 10/5/2009

The sentinel node biopsy showed that the cancer had indeed spread outside the breast. It showed up in all 5 nodes that were taken in the biopsy. Nothing changes as far as the treatment plan.

Training Day 10/2/2009

Today I met with the oncology nurse to go over the upcoming schedule of chemo and to review what I would be going through the next several months. Starting Wednesday, October 7th, and continuing every 3 weeks for 6 cycles, you'll find me at the oncology center taking my infusion. By my calculations, I'll have my last go-round on January 20th.


"So do not fear , for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous hand." Isaiah 41:10

Why doctors should wait 10/1/2009

So I got it wrong yesterday. It turns out that the surgeon took 5 nodes and they are at the lab now being tested to see if the cancer is in them. These are the nodes in the sentinel area. I should know for sure tomorrow or Monday whether the cancer has spread beyond the breast. This is just one more reason why doctors should wait to discuss the surgery til patients are completely awake and cogent.

Sentinel Node day 9/30/2009

If this post is not completely cogent, it's because I'm still a little woozy from the general anesthesia. Surgery was at 7:30, and thanks to good drugs, I was out before I got to the operating room. Upon waking, I met with my doctor who told me that they had taken 5 lymph nodes. Apparently, the cancer has spread beyond the breast, and into the lymph nodes in the body.

I will be taking "chemo teaching" on Friday, so I can learn the particulars of my treatment plan.
But I do know the drugs I will be taking:
Herceptin:
Cancer cells grow in an uncontrolled fashion. Herceptin works on the surface of the cancer cell by blocking the chemical signals that can stimulate this uncontrolled growth.
Genes are like instruction manuals that tell each cell of our body how to grow, what kind of cell to become, and how to behave. Genes do this by ordering the cell to make special proteins that cause a certain activity -- like cell growth, rest, or repair.
Some cancer cells have abnormalities in genes that tell the cell how much and how fast to grow. Sometimes the cancer cells have too many copies of these genes with abnormalities. When there are too many copies of these genes, doctors refer to it as "overexpression." With some forms of gene overexpression, cancer cells will make too many of the proteins that control cell growth and division, causing the cancer to grow and spread.
Some breast cancer cells make (overexpress) too many copies of a particular gene known as HER2. The HER2 gene makes a protein known as a HER2 receptor. HER2 receptors are like ears, or antennae, on the surface of all cells. These HER2 receptors receive signals that stimulate the cell to grow and multiply. But breast cancer cells with too many HER2 receptors can pick up too many growth signals and so start growing and multiplying too much and too fast. Breast cancer cells that overexpress the HER2 gene are said to be HER2-positive.
Herceptin works by attaching itself to the HER2 receptors on the surface of breast cancer cells and blocking them from receiving growth signals. By blocking the signals, Herceptin can slow or stop the growth of the breast cancer. Herceptin is an example of an immune targeted therapy. In addition to blocking HER2 receptors, Herceptin can also help fight breast cancer by alerting the immune system to destroy cancer cells onto which it is attached.
Herceptin causes flu-like symptoms in about 40% of the people who take it. These symptoms may include:

• fever
• chills
• muscle aches
• nausea

Side effects generally become less severe after the first treatment. Your treatment team will monitor you during your infusions, especially your first dose, and can adjust the infusion if you are very uncomfortable. If you are receiving Herceptin every 3 weeks, you may have stronger side effects. I am getting chemo every 3 weeks, and will take Herceptin every 3 weeks for a year.
Less commonly, Herceptin can damage the heart and its ability to pump blood effectively. This risk has ranged between 5% to 30%. The damage can be mild and result in either no symptoms or signs of mild heart failure, like shortness of breath. Less commonly, the heart damage is bad enough that people experience life-threatening congestive heart failure or a stroke. The risk of heart damage, especially severe damage, is greater when Herceptin is given along with other chemotherapy medicines known to cause heart damage. Adriamycin is an example of a chemotherapy that can cause heart damage.
Women who experience mild or more serious heart damage can stop taking Herceptin and start taking heart-strengthening medications. This often brings heart function back to normal.
Herceptin can rarely cause two possibly related serious reactions that interfere with breathing. One of these is a reaction during or shortly after Herceptin is being administered. This is like a bad allergic reaction, with symptoms that include hives, as well as wheezing and trouble breathing due to sudden swelling and narrowing of the airways. The other reaction, called pulmonarty toxicity, results in swelling of the lung tissue, low blood pressure, and possibly fluid buildup around the lungs (called pleural effusions).
The risk of these life-threatening reactions is rare -- much less than 1%. In most cases, these reactions happen during infusion or within the first 24 hours of the first dose of Herceptin. Less commonly they can happen within a week of the first dose. Only occasionally do these reactions occur with the second or later doses. The lung reaction can be more severe when lung disease, such as asthma or emphysema, already exists, or if the breast cancer has spread significantly into your lungs. If you are currently undergoing treatment with Herceptin and have been tolerating it well, you're unlikely to develop these serious reactions.
Taxotere
Taxotere info here.
Carboplatin
Carboplatin info is here. Sounds like fun, huh?

So that's all I have from here so far. Not to worry. As Alex used to say of me when he was little: I'm "one tough cream puff". And with all of your prayers and support, I'll come through this just fine.
When I know the chemo schedule, I'll post that.

Peace to all!

"So do not fear , for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous hand." Isaiah 41:10

The schedule so far 9/21/2009

Today I had my colonoscopy--thank God for small favors, it was clean except for one very small polyp. All else looked fine.

I just heard from the surgeon's office and after a few more tests, I will have the sentinel node biopsy on the 30th, at which time my chemo port will be installed. Presumably chemo will start shortly thereafter.

The latest news 9/16/2009

We were informed this morning that the plan for treatment will be this: Chemotherapy first, Surgery next, then radiation. Because it is still unclear the nature of the involvement of the affected lymph nodes (are they lymph nodes associated with the breast, or systemic lymph nodes?), I will have a sentinel lymph node biopsy next week. I learned that the lymph nodes that spread out to the body from the armpit are separate from the breast lymph nodes (LN from now on). If the LN affected are body ones, then it is possible that cancer cells have spread to elsewhere in my body. If the nodes affected are breast ones, then it is possible that the cancer is contained there. There is a defined LN where the body type LN start. The biopsy will be on that (the sentinel LN). If the cancer is there, then it will indicate that the cancer may be elsewhere in my body. At least that's my understanding.

Because the tumor is very close to my chest wall, they want to shrink the tumor first with Chemo. Treatment will be through a port installed in my shoulder, once every 3 weeks for 6 treatments. (By my calculations, I should be done around 1/14-Ray's 60th birthday!!) Each treatment lasts 5 hours or so. Then comes surgery 3 weeks later, then radiation. My goal is to be done this mess by July so we can go west for 3-4 weeks. I should be able to work through all this, except for times when I feel reallly bad from the chemo. Fortunately, my work situation is flexible.

The drugs I will be administered are Taxotere, Carboplatin, and Herceptin. They sound so innocuous for the poisons that they are, don't they?

I will probably start chemo in 2 weeks. In the mean time, I will have a bone scan and cardiac echo on Friday.

They gave me a new packet of info on treatment which I was reading in the waiting room for a blood test (the first of many to come). I had reconciled myself to losing my hair (just another hair style to try!!), but I was struck by the text that you lose ALL hair--eyebrows, eyelashes--everything. Holy cow--I'll be one scary sight! Apparently, when my hair comes back in it will be darker, and curlier--another hair style!

The road goes on 9/16/2009

As an easy way to let everyone know what's going on, I will post to this blog regularly. You can get automatic updates by clicking on Follow Blog at the top right of this page, choosing Follow Anonymously, then clicking Follow.

Today Ray and I go this morning to meet with the oncologist to get all the low down on the cancer itself and the treatment protocol we will follow. I'll post later to bring you up to date.

Fingers crossed...