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.