Ever take a bath in 2 1/2 gallons of water? No? Lucky you! Today, we put 2 gallons of spring water in the tub, to which we added a tea kettle of boiling water (boiled on the propane stove on the porch, for safety). Oh, the luxury of it!
Power is still out, and from what we're hearing, it may be several more days. We drove up Horace Greeley and Chestnut Hill Roads , and saw trees draped over the power lines.
Stay tuned...
Thoughts Become Things
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Good news, bad news 2/27/2010
First the good news: the pathology from the surgery came back and it showed that there was no cancer in the lymph nodes. Yay!!!!
Now the bad news: the same pathology showed that there are still some cancer cells left in the breast. Booooo! So probably next week, I will have to go back to have another surgery to remove more tissue.
Will advise particular timing.
This surgery was not so bad. I feel pretty good, with some soreness at the surgical site, but not so bad that I've had to resort to pain killers. Probably the worst of the situation is that we have not had power since Thursday night. While we do have a generator that provides us with refrigerator and lights, we have no running water. Since I have to take a bath (so I don't get the surgical site wet), and no one we know has water, I'm getting anxious for a bath. Ray can go to the gym to shower. We're hoping for power to come back soon, but have been told it may be many days til it does. C'est la vie.
Now the bad news: the same pathology showed that there are still some cancer cells left in the breast. Booooo! So probably next week, I will have to go back to have another surgery to remove more tissue.
Will advise particular timing.
This surgery was not so bad. I feel pretty good, with some soreness at the surgical site, but not so bad that I've had to resort to pain killers. Probably the worst of the situation is that we have not had power since Thursday night. While we do have a generator that provides us with refrigerator and lights, we have no running water. Since I have to take a bath (so I don't get the surgical site wet), and no one we know has water, I'm getting anxious for a bath. Ray can go to the gym to shower. We're hoping for power to come back soon, but have been told it may be many days til it does. C'est la vie.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
No problemo 2/24/2010
I checked in to the hospital at 6:30 this morning, and was ushered in to the prep area. Shortly after I was dressed in the hospital's finest rear-opening gown, I was wheeled down to radiology where they would take some "pictures" and insert a guide wire so that the surgeon could easily find the chip that had been inserted into the tumor when I had had my sentinel node biopsy. That sounds so innocuous, doesn't it? Holy smoke! To do this procedure , they lay you down on a table that has a hole in it so you can place the breast with tumor in it. The challenge came when they discovered that the clip/(former)tumor was close to my chest. To get a good picture, they had to play tug-of-war (they won) with the aforementioned breast and shoulder, then squish said breast with mammogram-like plates. It took them 3x as long as usual to get the pictures they needed. Then the radiologist numbed the spot (they need to work on the effectiveness of numbing swab) and inserted a wire just slightly thinner than angel hair pasta. The wire protruded from my body and the surgeon could then follow the wire (like a bread crumb trail) to where the clip/tumor was.
It was all downhill coast from there. Anesthesia is a wonderful thing. I was out before they wheeled me into surgery. When I woke up, I felt pretty well, got my walking papers, and went home. Steve drove up today for support--(thanks, Steve), and will stay the night with us.
I have a little drain that collects fluid from the incision. That's probably the most annoying part of this. But otherwise, no problemo.
It was all downhill coast from there. Anesthesia is a wonderful thing. I was out before they wheeled me into surgery. When I woke up, I felt pretty well, got my walking papers, and went home. Steve drove up today for support--(thanks, Steve), and will stay the night with us.
I have a little drain that collects fluid from the incision. That's probably the most annoying part of this. But otherwise, no problemo.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Treatment Stage 2 2/23/2010
On Friday, I went to the ophthalmologist to find out what was up with my weepy eyes. After a few tests, the worst of which was an injection (yes, a NEEDLE) into my tear ducts, the diagnosis is that my tears don't have any lubricant in them. The chemo has changed the chemical composition of my tears, so they don't lubricate my eyes, and so I just keep producing more tears. I will just use lubricating eye drops until the chemo wears off. The injections showed that at least the tear ducts are not blocked.
On another note, tomorrow is surgery. Since Monday, I had an Echocardiogram, a breast MRI, an EKG and blood work, so I'm all ready. But....................GOOD NEWS! The MRI showed.........nothing! The original tumor did not show on the MRI. I'm not sure what they'll remove tomorrow (in addition to the lymph nodes), but at this point, I don't really care. I feel good that the crying eyes were not for nothing after all.
Onward!
On another note, tomorrow is surgery. Since Monday, I had an Echocardiogram, a breast MRI, an EKG and blood work, so I'm all ready. But....................GOOD NEWS! The MRI showed.........nothing! The original tumor did not show on the MRI. I'm not sure what they'll remove tomorrow (in addition to the lymph nodes), but at this point, I don't really care. I feel good that the crying eyes were not for nothing after all.
Onward!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Dacryostenosis 2/9/2010
Today was the continuation of chemotherapy with just the Herceptin. The Taxotere and Carboplatin are done. Every 3 weeks til October, I'll get one and a half hour infusions of Herceptin. The good part is that I won't have to get weekly blood draws for CBC levels.
A few days ago, the tearing eyes were really getting to me. And I made the search on Google for Taxotere and blocked tear ducts. Boom! Search results yielded a message board for ovarian cancer where discussion participants were receiving the same drugs I was getting, and experiencing the same "crying eyes" syndrome to the same extent as I was. I can't tell you how good it was to read that my experience was not unique. Not common, certainly, but not unique. An opthalmologist can unblock the ducts with stents. This problem is called dacryostenosis.
I did discuss this with my oncologist, who reiterated (probably for the tenth time) that the weepy eye problem would subside after another 2-3 months all by itself. 2-3 months more? Holy crap!!! It's already been 3 months... But she did say that if I wanted to, I could see an opthalmologist and see if there is a problem that should be addressed now. My first call tomorrow will be to my PCP to get a referral to an opthalmologist. Maybe the end of the wet face is in sight!
A few days ago, the tearing eyes were really getting to me. And I made the search on Google for Taxotere and blocked tear ducts. Boom! Search results yielded a message board for ovarian cancer where discussion participants were receiving the same drugs I was getting, and experiencing the same "crying eyes" syndrome to the same extent as I was. I can't tell you how good it was to read that my experience was not unique. Not common, certainly, but not unique. An opthalmologist can unblock the ducts with stents. This problem is called dacryostenosis.
I did discuss this with my oncologist, who reiterated (probably for the tenth time) that the weepy eye problem would subside after another 2-3 months all by itself. 2-3 months more? Holy crap!!! It's already been 3 months... But she did say that if I wanted to, I could see an opthalmologist and see if there is a problem that should be addressed now. My first call tomorrow will be to my PCP to get a referral to an opthalmologist. Maybe the end of the wet face is in sight!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Feeling better, and still crying 2/2/2010
Not much to report, and I suppose that's good news. My optimum coumadin dosage (to thin my blood after the clot was found) has yet to be determined and I feel like I've been living at the lab/oncologist. Thank God that once the coumadin level is set, and after surgery, I "only" have to go to the oncologist every 3 weeks for a check up and Herceptin infusion.
Now 2 weeks out from my last chemo, I'm feeling better, although the eyes are still crying-3 months and counting. I'm told that the eye thing will start to ease by the end of February or early March. It can't come too soon. Hard to believe that something so minor could be such a big deal.
I'm looking forward to my trip to Arizona --it's been years since all the Dumais have gotten together.
Now 2 weeks out from my last chemo, I'm feeling better, although the eyes are still crying-3 months and counting. I'm told that the eye thing will start to ease by the end of February or early March. It can't come too soon. Hard to believe that something so minor could be such a big deal.
I'm looking forward to my trip to Arizona --it's been years since all the Dumais have gotten together.
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