...whatever that means. ;-)
I had a check-up with my oncologist on Monday and a blood test revealed that all my numbers are back to normal. (During treatment, I had been getting a steady dose of Neulasta to keep my count high enough to allow me to keep up the bi-weekly chemo treatments. These injections stopped, of course, when the chemo treatments stopped, and last June, my white blood cell count was somewhat low. Now, all is good again.) And since my most recent mammogram (December 1) was nice and clean, and my exam with Dr. Kuan yielded nothing scary, I don't have to have any more blood tests when I visit her. Yay!
In other news, we all went to see Slumdog Millionaire last weekend, with Jackie & Yusuf. A wonderful movie, and we followed it with curries and naan at Cafe Raj. A terrific date—I recommend it.
(Also, it's been a shocking two months since my last post. I'm getting back on the weekly wagon, just in case anyone is still reading.)
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Monday, August 4, 2008
A Couple Celebrations
Maggie turned 14 a little over a week ago. She had a few friends over for curry and cake and what I refer to as "sneaky Jane Austen". The girls watched Clueless (a contemporary version of Emma), and then they watched Bride & Prejudice (a Bollywood version of Pride & Prejudice). A wonderful time was had and she felt properly feted.
And yesterday I celebrated my "all-clear" with a BBQ at Terrace Park. Here's the cake (courtesy of my darling daughter, Emily).
And that's how we do closure, Karen-style.
And yesterday I celebrated my "all-clear" with a BBQ at Terrace Park. Here's the cake (courtesy of my darling daughter, Emily).
And that's how we do closure, Karen-style.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Without a Port
Dr. Broderick removed my port today. <giggle> Yay! It was weird and really cool.
Frank and I were ushered into one of the examination rooms at the offices of First Surgical Consultants (I tend to hate generic sounding names like that, but I love Dr. Broderick, so I guess I'll let it slide) and I put on one of those lovely paper gowns (Frank said I looked like something out of "Forbidden Planet"). Dr. Broderick showed up and got right to work (and Frank left the room soon thereafter. I mean, there's a reason he's a lawyer...)
Dr. B cleaned the area and shot the area up with Lidocaine (pinch burn, pinch burn, pinch burn, pinch burn..... numb, yay!) He cut the skin above where the port was sitting and explained that the body creates a sac of scar tissue around the port. So he massaged and pushed and massaged and pushed to loosen the sac around the port and eventually it came out. That five minutes or so of massaging (probably less than that, but in these instances, it feels like such a long time, you know?) took up most of the time for the procedure and felt really weird. My skin was being pulled taut and so while nothing was happening at that moment, probably, it just felt weird. Like something was imminent.
And then, voila! I felt the tubing that led from the port to the Subclavian being pulled out. Kinda freaky and kinda neat.
He applied pressure to the spot where the tube had left the vein and I asked him how it healed. He said that the blood flow would prefer to just follow the path nature made for it, through the vein, rather than fight with other tissue and find a path through my body. So, it heals itself.
The human body. Just amazing. (When it's not being a total PITA.)
I can't see where the sutures are now--they're under a bandage--so I'm not sure if this scar just eradicates the one remaining from the insertion of the port, or there are two side-by-side. But given Dr. B's consideration and expert work on the two previous occasions, I'm not too worried.
I brought the port home with me (Dr. Broderick: "Um, you might want to wash that with bleach or something") and I smell a bit like a surgery (that blood and antiseptic smell). But no more foreign bodies in my body! Yay me!
When we left the office I was seriously jittery from an adrenalin rush, but we've been home for about an hour now and my head hurts a bit, and feels tired, so I'm already crashing. I expect to sleep well tonight.
(I go back next week to get the stitches removed.)
Frank and I were ushered into one of the examination rooms at the offices of First Surgical Consultants (I tend to hate generic sounding names like that, but I love Dr. Broderick, so I guess I'll let it slide) and I put on one of those lovely paper gowns (Frank said I looked like something out of "Forbidden Planet"). Dr. Broderick showed up and got right to work (and Frank left the room soon thereafter. I mean, there's a reason he's a lawyer...)
Dr. B cleaned the area and shot the area up with Lidocaine (pinch burn, pinch burn, pinch burn, pinch burn..... numb, yay!) He cut the skin above where the port was sitting and explained that the body creates a sac of scar tissue around the port. So he massaged and pushed and massaged and pushed to loosen the sac around the port and eventually it came out. That five minutes or so of massaging (probably less than that, but in these instances, it feels like such a long time, you know?) took up most of the time for the procedure and felt really weird. My skin was being pulled taut and so while nothing was happening at that moment, probably, it just felt weird. Like something was imminent.
And then, voila! I felt the tubing that led from the port to the Subclavian being pulled out. Kinda freaky and kinda neat.
He applied pressure to the spot where the tube had left the vein and I asked him how it healed. He said that the blood flow would prefer to just follow the path nature made for it, through the vein, rather than fight with other tissue and find a path through my body. So, it heals itself.
The human body. Just amazing. (When it's not being a total PITA.)
I can't see where the sutures are now--they're under a bandage--so I'm not sure if this scar just eradicates the one remaining from the insertion of the port, or there are two side-by-side. But given Dr. B's consideration and expert work on the two previous occasions, I'm not too worried.
I brought the port home with me (Dr. Broderick: "Um, you might want to wash that with bleach or something") and I smell a bit like a surgery (that blood and antiseptic smell). But no more foreign bodies in my body! Yay me!
When we left the office I was seriously jittery from an adrenalin rush, but we've been home for about an hour now and my head hurts a bit, and feels tired, so I'm already crashing. I expect to sleep well tonight.
(I go back next week to get the stitches removed.)
Monday, July 14, 2008
Goings On
I've got my port removal scheduled for next Monday (July 21). Yay! Dr. Broderick (who I love, btw) said he can do it as an outpatient service in his office, and I admit I am intrigued.
See, while the hard silicone thing (into which they put the needles to draw blood and infuse toxic chemicals) is supposed to be near the surface of the skin, mine appears to be somewhat deep (much commented upon during treatment and subsequent blood draws). Also? It's connected to a tube that goes up to the Subclavian vein. Can they just pull that out? They don't need to suture it or anything? Finally, mine is much farther down on my chest than the one in the diagram in the link--Dr. Broderick very kindly placed it within a reasonable line of decolletage, so, um.... Well, I guess we'll just see, won't we?
This Weekend
In other news, Emily is doing the AIDS Walk next Sunday, with team I Love This World. Feel free to sponsor Emily and donate by going here.
While Emily is doing that, Maggie and I will less helpful to society at large by going to the Giants v. Brewers game. Frank shares in season tickets with several other people, so we get about 10 or 11 games a year. And I love the seats. They're on the third baseline, in the Club section. Which means if it's too hot, we can go up to the glass-enclosed food/drink section, which also is air conditioned, and still see the game.
Oh, and Friday night, we're all going in to the city to see the Chihuly exhibit at the DeYoung, along with Jackie (and maybe Becky?) whose husbands will be at the annual golf "debacle" with Frank and five other fine gentlemen, up in Graeagle this weekend.
Last Weekend
This past weekend we saw "Ironman" at the Cerrito--way fun, we'd all recommend it. It was fun and over the top in a good way. And yesterday we saw "An Ideal Husband" at CalShakes* in Orinda. The sets and costumes were lovely, the direction was fine, and the acting was fairly solid. It's the play itself, I fear, that doesn't quite stand up. The play drags a bit in the middle (the plot bogs it down just a bit) and the wonderfully sexist point of view at the end is a bit hard to take. But you can't beat the venue--amphitheater, set in the hills, on EBMUD watershed property, so you really feel like you're away from everything else. "Ideal Husband" is on for a couple more weeks and then next up on their calendar is "Uncle Vanya". They did a super job with "The Seagull" a couple years ago, so I'm looking forward to this next one.
*Dinking around on their site, I found this terrific video from CalShakes' Artistic Director, Jon Moscone (yes, son of George Moscone) showing the site of the Bruns Amphitheater. Actually the video on their site didn't work, so I tracked it down on youtube. Check it out:
See, while the hard silicone thing (into which they put the needles to draw blood and infuse toxic chemicals) is supposed to be near the surface of the skin, mine appears to be somewhat deep (much commented upon during treatment and subsequent blood draws). Also? It's connected to a tube that goes up to the Subclavian vein. Can they just pull that out? They don't need to suture it or anything? Finally, mine is much farther down on my chest than the one in the diagram in the link--Dr. Broderick very kindly placed it within a reasonable line of decolletage, so, um.... Well, I guess we'll just see, won't we?
This Weekend
In other news, Emily is doing the AIDS Walk next Sunday, with team I Love This World. Feel free to sponsor Emily and donate by going here.
While Emily is doing that, Maggie and I will less helpful to society at large by going to the Giants v. Brewers game. Frank shares in season tickets with several other people, so we get about 10 or 11 games a year. And I love the seats. They're on the third baseline, in the Club section. Which means if it's too hot, we can go up to the glass-enclosed food/drink section, which also is air conditioned, and still see the game.
Oh, and Friday night, we're all going in to the city to see the Chihuly exhibit at the DeYoung, along with Jackie (and maybe Becky?) whose husbands will be at the annual golf "debacle" with Frank and five other fine gentlemen, up in Graeagle this weekend.
Last Weekend
This past weekend we saw "Ironman" at the Cerrito--way fun, we'd all recommend it. It was fun and over the top in a good way. And yesterday we saw "An Ideal Husband" at CalShakes* in Orinda. The sets and costumes were lovely, the direction was fine, and the acting was fairly solid. It's the play itself, I fear, that doesn't quite stand up. The play drags a bit in the middle (the plot bogs it down just a bit) and the wonderfully sexist point of view at the end is a bit hard to take. But you can't beat the venue--amphitheater, set in the hills, on EBMUD watershed property, so you really feel like you're away from everything else. "Ideal Husband" is on for a couple more weeks and then next up on their calendar is "Uncle Vanya". They did a super job with "The Seagull" a couple years ago, so I'm looking forward to this next one.
*Dinking around on their site, I found this terrific video from CalShakes' Artistic Director, Jon Moscone (yes, son of George Moscone) showing the site of the Bruns Amphitheater. Actually the video on their site didn't work, so I tracked it down on youtube. Check it out:
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Clean, Clean, Clean
I had my mammogram last Friday and it was nice and clean.
Then, this morning? I got a phone call from Alta Bates. My PET CT, taken last Monday, also quite clean.
The relief is coming out in little spurts. I'm sure I'll be crying sometime today. Oh, wait. Yep, there it is--the watery eye.
<sigh> Have I mentioned lately? Life is good.
Then, this morning? I got a phone call from Alta Bates. My PET CT, taken last Monday, also quite clean.
The relief is coming out in little spurts. I'm sure I'll be crying sometime today. Oh, wait. Yep, there it is--the watery eye.
<sigh> Have I mentioned lately? Life is good.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The Whirlwind
Life has been crazy--in a good way, and this post is in two parts. This first part is all about the fun that's being had. What follows is all the post-treatment stuff going on later....
The end of the school year was as hectic as ever. The week before school got out, Maggie co-hosted a party with several of her friends. Here they are: Shayna (whose parents graciously provided the house for the party!), Sarah, Maggie & Hannah (who both shaved their heads for kids cancer research--don't they both look fab?), Lilia, Nina, and Megan.
On Thursday, June 12, we went to the promotion ceremony for Albany Middle School. Here's a pic of Maggie in the dress that she & I made for the event, along with Siobhan, Julia, and Shayna (all girls we've known since kindergarten).
The day after "graduation", the 8th graders all went to Marine World, and I hit the road for Santa Barbara. Em and I got her moved out of the dorms, and since she was the last of the three girls to leave, she got to take out all the trash/recycling and vacuum and get the room inspected. All went well and she and I checked in to the Days Inn in Buellton and then went to see Indiana Jones 4 at the local theater, after a nice steak dinner.
We got home Saturday and on Sunday, the 15th, we joined a Father's Day brunch for Frank's tennis buddies and then I got a wonderful birthday dinner of grilled lobster and Caesar Salad.
Monday we left for New York. I've cataloged our trip below, so for those of you who don't want/need all the details, you can avoid them easily.
Before we left for NYC, I had a brain MRI. (Purely cautionary--breast cancer can spread to the brain, and rather than worry, I'd prefer to rule things out.) This past Monday, I had a PET CT and today, Friday, I'm having a mammogram. Sheesh. But it's all for peace of mind, so I really don't mind.
I'll see Dr. Kuan on Monday, July 7, to go over all these test results and will hopefully get an "all-clear" sign. And then I can schedule having this port removed. Yay!
I'll post again after I see Dr. Kuan. But till then, no news is good news. :-)
*********************************
New York, New York, It's a Wonderful Town...
We got in Monday night, and met Ellen* & Mike at the very new & hip Rose Bar at the Gramercy Park Hotel for $20 martinis (images #2, 3, and 4 here), and then went to the Shake Shack in Madison Square Park for a less expensive, late night dinner (amazing shakes and cheeseburgers [Frank and Mike had theirs with a deep-fried portobello mushroom--I had a bite of Frank's, it was too much for me, but it was way yummy]). (*Ellen is Frank's youngest sister and Michael is her wonderful fiance. They live in Brooklyn.)
Tuesday we met Ellen for breakfast at Balthazar's, in SoHo--food was yummy and servings were *perfect*. Then we went to visit one of the two "Bird" stores in Brooklyn that Ellen manages and then on to Ellen & Mike's charming flat in Brooklyn. Wandered *all* over Greenwich Village and had pizza at John's (solid NY pizza).
We got to the Daily Show at 3:30 (when they suggested you be in line) only to find that we were numbers #194, 195, 196, and 197 (out of 260). :-) The Daily Show was really, really fun. Then we went to the Garage in the Village for dinner and jazz (good steak, fun music, solid bar--thanks to John & Lynn for the recommendation.)
Wednesday.... Our anniversary! We wandered uptown (hotel was at 32nd between 5th and Madison ) and we got lunch at the Burger Joint (hidden in the Parker Meridien--Ellen showed me this place when I visited her last spring) and then walked the few remaining blocks up to Central Park and ate our lunch al fresco. Walked through the park where we witnessed, up close, the wacky phenomenon that is Upper East Side nannies and their charges in the park (mini soccer and softball camps set up within, while the nannies sat at the benches, visiting) and made our way to the Met so we could see Jeff Koons' rooftop sculpture (the balloon dog). Went back to the hotel and changed for dinner and then went all the way back up to Lexington and 74th(?) for dinner at Payard--really, really wonderful.
Thursday, whew! Mediocre breakfast in the hotel (eh, what do you expect?) and then made our way down to Battery Park and said "Hi" to Lady Liberty. We found Trinity Church and paid our respects to Mr. Hamilton, then headed back to our hotel's neighborhood which is now Little Korea. We found some really solid Korean BBQ and had lunch. Then changed for the evening and met Kevin Fitzpatrick (author of "Dorothy Parker's New York") for a walking tour of the places associated with the Algonquin Round Table tour. He was really gracious and informative and I would heartily recommend him to anyone visiting NYC. He left us very near our dinner/theater destinations, which also happened to be where my sister Dawn was staying with my niece Kiersten and so we went to see them in their hotel (Marriott Marquis). The four of us walked the five blocks to Natsumi for sushi dinner (Yelpers are the best--I found this place online and it was quite good). We said goodnight to them and went to the Music Box theater to watch "August: Osage County". Quite good. Frank and I still were talking about it, days later. Think "Sam Shephard with a sense of humor..." :-) (And as soon as I get Dawn's pics, I'll upload a photo of the 4 of us....)
Friday, packed and had the bags ready to go. Then wandered the city for the three hours until time for the limo to pick us up. Ran into my sister Dawn and her daughter Kiersten (don't you *love* cities?) and ended our walk at Bryant Park.
I had already dragged Frank through NYPL, so this time we just sat on the grass and enjoyed relaxing for 10 or 15 minutes before time to leave NYC.
As you can see, a really wonderful trip.
Let's Play!
The end of the school year was as hectic as ever. The week before school got out, Maggie co-hosted a party with several of her friends. Here they are: Shayna (whose parents graciously provided the house for the party!), Sarah, Maggie & Hannah (who both shaved their heads for kids cancer research--don't they both look fab?), Lilia, Nina, and Megan.
On Thursday, June 12, we went to the promotion ceremony for Albany Middle School. Here's a pic of Maggie in the dress that she & I made for the event, along with Siobhan, Julia, and Shayna (all girls we've known since kindergarten).
The day after "graduation", the 8th graders all went to Marine World, and I hit the road for Santa Barbara. Em and I got her moved out of the dorms, and since she was the last of the three girls to leave, she got to take out all the trash/recycling and vacuum and get the room inspected. All went well and she and I checked in to the Days Inn in Buellton and then went to see Indiana Jones 4 at the local theater, after a nice steak dinner.We got home Saturday and on Sunday, the 15th, we joined a Father's Day brunch for Frank's tennis buddies and then I got a wonderful birthday dinner of grilled lobster and Caesar Salad.
Monday we left for New York. I've cataloged our trip below, so for those of you who don't want/need all the details, you can avoid them easily.
Are We Done Yet?
Before we left for NYC, I had a brain MRI. (Purely cautionary--breast cancer can spread to the brain, and rather than worry, I'd prefer to rule things out.) This past Monday, I had a PET CT and today, Friday, I'm having a mammogram. Sheesh. But it's all for peace of mind, so I really don't mind.
I'll see Dr. Kuan on Monday, July 7, to go over all these test results and will hopefully get an "all-clear" sign. And then I can schedule having this port removed. Yay!
I'll post again after I see Dr. Kuan. But till then, no news is good news. :-)
*********************************
New York, New York, It's a Wonderful Town...
We got in Monday night, and met Ellen* & Mike at the very new & hip Rose Bar at the Gramercy Park Hotel for $20 martinis (images #2, 3, and 4 here), and then went to the Shake Shack in Madison Square Park for a less expensive, late night dinner (amazing shakes and cheeseburgers [Frank and Mike had theirs with a deep-fried portobello mushroom--I had a bite of Frank's, it was too much for me, but it was way yummy]). (*Ellen is Frank's youngest sister and Michael is her wonderful fiance. They live in Brooklyn.)
Tuesday we met Ellen for breakfast at Balthazar's, in SoHo--food was yummy and servings were *perfect*. Then we went to visit one of the two "Bird" stores in Brooklyn that Ellen manages and then on to Ellen & Mike's charming flat in Brooklyn. Wandered *all* over Greenwich Village and had pizza at John's (solid NY pizza).
We got to the Daily Show at 3:30 (when they suggested you be in line) only to find that we were numbers #194, 195, 196, and 197 (out of 260). :-) The Daily Show was really, really fun. Then we went to the Garage in the Village for dinner and jazz (good steak, fun music, solid bar--thanks to John & Lynn for the recommendation.)Wednesday.... Our anniversary! We wandered uptown (hotel was at 32nd between 5th and Madison ) and we got lunch at the Burger Joint (hidden in the Parker Meridien--Ellen showed me this place when I visited her last spring) and then walked the few remaining blocks up to Central Park and ate our lunch al fresco. Walked through the park where we witnessed, up close, the wacky phenomenon that is Upper East Side nannies and their charges in the park (mini soccer and softball camps set up within, while the nannies sat at the benches, visiting) and made our way to the Met so we could see Jeff Koons' rooftop sculpture (the balloon dog). Went back to the hotel and changed for dinner and then went all the way back up to Lexington and 74th(?) for dinner at Payard--really, really wonderful.
Thursday, whew! Mediocre breakfast in the hotel (eh, what do you expect?) and then made our way down to Battery Park and said "Hi" to Lady Liberty. We found Trinity Church and paid our respects to Mr. Hamilton, then headed back to our hotel's neighborhood which is now Little Korea. We found some really solid Korean BBQ and had lunch. Then changed for the evening and met Kevin Fitzpatrick (author of "Dorothy Parker's New York") for a walking tour of the places associated with the Algonquin Round Table tour. He was really gracious and informative and I would heartily recommend him to anyone visiting NYC. He left us very near our dinner/theater destinations, which also happened to be where my sister Dawn was staying with my niece Kiersten and so we went to see them in their hotel (Marriott Marquis). The four of us walked the five blocks to Natsumi for sushi dinner (Yelpers are the best--I found this place online and it was quite good). We said goodnight to them and went to the Music Box theater to watch "August: Osage County". Quite good. Frank and I still were talking about it, days later. Think "Sam Shephard with a sense of humor..." :-) (And as soon as I get Dawn's pics, I'll upload a photo of the 4 of us....)
Friday, packed and had the bags ready to go. Then wandered the city for the three hours until time for the limo to pick us up. Ran into my sister Dawn and her daughter Kiersten (don't you *love* cities?) and ended our walk at Bryant Park.
I had already dragged Frank through NYPL, so this time we just sat on the grass and enjoyed relaxing for 10 or 15 minutes before time to leave NYC.As you can see, a really wonderful trip.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Maggie: Pretty Bald Chick
Team Albany before:
And Maggie at the end of her head-shaving:
And Team Albany after:
We are so proud of our bald daughter.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
T Minus Two
Just two radiation treatments left. I'm so very, very pleased. To celebrate the end of my morning radiation routine, I'm thinking I might force Frank to change our routine this Friday and have him take me and Maggie out for breakfast on Friday (Maggie has no school).
Speaking of Maggie, she is doing a great good thing and having her head shaved in support of the St. Baldricks fundraising event for childhood cancer research. You can see a pre-shave pic of her here. She's part of a team for her middle school, and they'll all get their heads shaved on St. Patrick's Day (next Monday). I'll post a pic of her new "look" after that.
Meanwhile, I am so looking forward to seeing Emily next Friday night. Her last final is at 4 p.m. that day (what a sadistic professor, to give a final mere minutes before Spring Break), and I've promised her a lovely dinner with her mother as a reward. The next day, we'll meet Robert in San Luis Obispo for our 24 hours of fun (San Simeon, Madonna Inn, mad hijinks...) Of course, I only realized this week that the Sunday is Easter. We typically have friends over for a feast on that day, but Em and I won't be rolling in to the Bay Area until about 2 p.m., so this year Easter will be a bit more lowkey than usual.
Speaking of Maggie, she is doing a great good thing and having her head shaved in support of the St. Baldricks fundraising event for childhood cancer research. You can see a pre-shave pic of her here. She's part of a team for her middle school, and they'll all get their heads shaved on St. Patrick's Day (next Monday). I'll post a pic of her new "look" after that.
Meanwhile, I am so looking forward to seeing Emily next Friday night. Her last final is at 4 p.m. that day (what a sadistic professor, to give a final mere minutes before Spring Break), and I've promised her a lovely dinner with her mother as a reward. The next day, we'll meet Robert in San Luis Obispo for our 24 hours of fun (San Simeon, Madonna Inn, mad hijinks...) Of course, I only realized this week that the Sunday is Easter. We typically have friends over for a feast on that day, but Em and I won't be rolling in to the Bay Area until about 2 p.m., so this year Easter will be a bit more lowkey than usual.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Give Me a Boost
Today was the first of seven "boost" radiation treatments. My routine (check-in, changing into a hospital gown, assuming the position on the bed in the radiation room) was the same, but they had added an attachment to the linear accelerator. The lead alloy plate they made for me was at the end of the attachment, and they lined it up with the drawing they made on my left breast over a week ago. They left the room and zapped me for 30 to 40 seconds and then, ta da! I was done.
As we near the end of it, I have to say this whole radiation regimen hasn't been too onerous, actually. But I am looking forward to just waking up in the morning, having breakfast with Frank and Maggie, getting dressed, and then going right into work. And that day will be next Friday, March 14. Yay!!!
And now, with the end in sight, I'm thinking I won't be needing to update this blog so regularly. During this ordeal, I've been trying to update the blog on a weekly basis, but after I finish radiation next week, there won't be much of anything to report. Well, other than how much I'm enjoying my family, friends, neighbors, job, etc.
In the next few months, I'll be taking some trips for fun and will have some follow-up visits for the breast cancer, and I'll be posting after those occurrences. So, if you have a burning desire to follow my life, you might want to check this site on a monthly basis, rather than weekly, after next week.
And to those of you who will be happy to move on, thank you for keeping me company during the past seven months. It's been so comforting--in the truest sense of the word--to know that people were thinking about me and caring about me. I continue to be enormously grateful to have the life that I have. It's a wonderful and wondrous thing.
Thank you.
As we near the end of it, I have to say this whole radiation regimen hasn't been too onerous, actually. But I am looking forward to just waking up in the morning, having breakfast with Frank and Maggie, getting dressed, and then going right into work. And that day will be next Friday, March 14. Yay!!!
And now, with the end in sight, I'm thinking I won't be needing to update this blog so regularly. During this ordeal, I've been trying to update the blog on a weekly basis, but after I finish radiation next week, there won't be much of anything to report. Well, other than how much I'm enjoying my family, friends, neighbors, job, etc.
In the next few months, I'll be taking some trips for fun and will have some follow-up visits for the breast cancer, and I'll be posting after those occurrences. So, if you have a burning desire to follow my life, you might want to check this site on a monthly basis, rather than weekly, after next week.
And to those of you who will be happy to move on, thank you for keeping me company during the past seven months. It's been so comforting--in the truest sense of the word--to know that people were thinking about me and caring about me. I continue to be enormously grateful to have the life that I have. It's a wonderful and wondrous thing.
Thank you.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Radiation 201
The whole brouhaha about the MRI and the (rather unattractively named) fat necrosis coincided with most of my radiation treatment, so I've not had an opportunity to share all the wonderful things I'm learning about this part of the process. There's a lot of detail here, so I hope I don't bore anyone, but I find this stuff fascinating.
First: I'm down to 10 remaining treatments (out of a total of 35), and it's all gone pretty swimmingly. Yay! Now for the details.
Each weekday morning, I arrive at the cancer center and check-in at the radiation department for my 8:30 appointment. Check-in is so well done, I feel the need to describe it. :-) You just walk up to the reception window and there's a flat screen PC monitor there. Touch it and the list of appointments appears. Touch the row with your name and appointed time (I am "Karen Z") and then touch the "Check-in" button at the bottom of the screen. There. Now the folks in the radiation rooms know you're there and will be available shortly.
After I'm checked in, I walk through a door into the "Gowned waiting area" (that's actually the sign outside the door) and go into a dressing room. I disrobe from the waist up and put on a gown, put my things in a little wooden "locker", and go sit in a chair for a couple minutes.
One of the technicians escorts me to one of the two radiation rooms, which are so, so cool. All sorts of radiation goes on here, for all sorts of cancers.
When they are planning radiation treatment, they put little pin dot tattoos on the affected area. These tattoos are used in conjunction with the many (six? seven?) lasers in the radiation room to line you up the same way every day, so they can be confident they're treating the correct area. In addition to the tattoos and lasers, they also employ other tools to make sure they can line you up with the totally groovy linear accelerator that delivers the radiation. For people with pelvic and abominal cancers, there are custom-fitted foam forms: they put the foam form on the bed/platform and the patient lies down on it. Since it's molded around *your* body, it helps you to lie down in the position they want. For brain and other head/neck cancers, they have these mesh "cages" that fit around the head and shoulders. These cages also provide a grid that enables them to align things with the lasers.
For breast cancer, you lie down on a slightly inclined "board" that raises your shoulders a couple inches above your hips. You bare the breast to be treated, raise the arm on the affected side (my left arm) and rest the arm in some holders that look a lot like the stirrups you rest your legs in when getting a pap smear. They are able to move the bed/platform in very small increments to line up the tattoos with the lasers. They also sometimes use the sheet I'm lying on to move me just the eensiest amount.
When I'm all lined up and everything is calibrated, the linear accelerator (or as I've come to think of it, the "zapper") is positioned over my left shoulder (where the affected lymph nodes were). They leave the room (can you imagine how much radiation they'd experience if they stayed in the room? <shudder>) When they zap me, it's not so much for an amount of time as it is for a dose (of radiation), but the dose typically takes about 30 seconds to administer to the area where the cancer infected the lymph nodes. Then, the technicians (really wonderful, friendly people, btw) come back into the room, adjust me the slightest bit, and reposition the zapper so it's on my right side, pointing at the left breast. They leave again and my left breast gets zapped from the right side for about 20 to 25 seconds. We repeat all this for one more zap on the left side (where the tumor was), which also lasts for about 20 to 25 seconds.
When we're all done, they tell me I can lower my arm, and I go slather aloe all over the area, get dressed, and go to work.
I've got just three more of these types of treatment and then I have seven "boost" radiation treatments. For those treatments, they created a special lead plate that enables them to direct radiation to just the tumor site on my left side.
Now, you might wonder, with all this special radioactive attention, if there are any side effects? Well, lethargy can be a side effect, but given that we were able to avoid my lungs in the treatment, I'm not really experiencing any tiredness. But. Even though I use copious amounts of aloe, and Aquaphor (TM), and olive oil cream, a person can't be given what is, essentially, a sunburn everyday without some skin issues. The area where my neck meets my shoulder on the left side is pretty sunburned. It is dry and itchy and it looks very red and angry. The breast is a little red, but mostly okay, so far. And as I said, just three more of these treatments (with a two day break this weekend) and then my neck can recover.
And there you go.
When radiation is done, the plan is: see Dr. Kuan at the end of March for a check-up and some blood work (to ensure everything is returning to normal). Assuming everything is groovy, I'll wait until mid-May for another check-up and blood check (and port flush--I still have the port and we need to ensure it's not clogged, so they need to "flush" it with saline every four to six weeks). In June, I'll have a CT scan to (hopefully) verify that there is no cancer in my body. In July, I'll have a bilateral mammogram, and if that, too, looks good, I can finally have the port removed. (It's a drag to remove it only to have to put it back in, should a person need more chemo.)
And there you go.
First: I'm down to 10 remaining treatments (out of a total of 35), and it's all gone pretty swimmingly. Yay! Now for the details.
Each weekday morning, I arrive at the cancer center and check-in at the radiation department for my 8:30 appointment. Check-in is so well done, I feel the need to describe it. :-) You just walk up to the reception window and there's a flat screen PC monitor there. Touch it and the list of appointments appears. Touch the row with your name and appointed time (I am "Karen Z") and then touch the "Check-in" button at the bottom of the screen. There. Now the folks in the radiation rooms know you're there and will be available shortly.
After I'm checked in, I walk through a door into the "Gowned waiting area" (that's actually the sign outside the door) and go into a dressing room. I disrobe from the waist up and put on a gown, put my things in a little wooden "locker", and go sit in a chair for a couple minutes.
One of the technicians escorts me to one of the two radiation rooms, which are so, so cool. All sorts of radiation goes on here, for all sorts of cancers.
When they are planning radiation treatment, they put little pin dot tattoos on the affected area. These tattoos are used in conjunction with the many (six? seven?) lasers in the radiation room to line you up the same way every day, so they can be confident they're treating the correct area. In addition to the tattoos and lasers, they also employ other tools to make sure they can line you up with the totally groovy linear accelerator that delivers the radiation. For people with pelvic and abominal cancers, there are custom-fitted foam forms: they put the foam form on the bed/platform and the patient lies down on it. Since it's molded around *your* body, it helps you to lie down in the position they want. For brain and other head/neck cancers, they have these mesh "cages" that fit around the head and shoulders. These cages also provide a grid that enables them to align things with the lasers.
For breast cancer, you lie down on a slightly inclined "board" that raises your shoulders a couple inches above your hips. You bare the breast to be treated, raise the arm on the affected side (my left arm) and rest the arm in some holders that look a lot like the stirrups you rest your legs in when getting a pap smear. They are able to move the bed/platform in very small increments to line up the tattoos with the lasers. They also sometimes use the sheet I'm lying on to move me just the eensiest amount.
When I'm all lined up and everything is calibrated, the linear accelerator (or as I've come to think of it, the "zapper") is positioned over my left shoulder (where the affected lymph nodes were). They leave the room (can you imagine how much radiation they'd experience if they stayed in the room? <shudder>) When they zap me, it's not so much for an amount of time as it is for a dose (of radiation), but the dose typically takes about 30 seconds to administer to the area where the cancer infected the lymph nodes. Then, the technicians (really wonderful, friendly people, btw) come back into the room, adjust me the slightest bit, and reposition the zapper so it's on my right side, pointing at the left breast. They leave again and my left breast gets zapped from the right side for about 20 to 25 seconds. We repeat all this for one more zap on the left side (where the tumor was), which also lasts for about 20 to 25 seconds.
When we're all done, they tell me I can lower my arm, and I go slather aloe all over the area, get dressed, and go to work.
I've got just three more of these types of treatment and then I have seven "boost" radiation treatments. For those treatments, they created a special lead plate that enables them to direct radiation to just the tumor site on my left side.
Now, you might wonder, with all this special radioactive attention, if there are any side effects? Well, lethargy can be a side effect, but given that we were able to avoid my lungs in the treatment, I'm not really experiencing any tiredness. But. Even though I use copious amounts of aloe, and Aquaphor (TM), and olive oil cream, a person can't be given what is, essentially, a sunburn everyday without some skin issues. The area where my neck meets my shoulder on the left side is pretty sunburned. It is dry and itchy and it looks very red and angry. The breast is a little red, but mostly okay, so far. And as I said, just three more of these treatments (with a two day break this weekend) and then my neck can recover.
And there you go.
When radiation is done, the plan is: see Dr. Kuan at the end of March for a check-up and some blood work (to ensure everything is returning to normal). Assuming everything is groovy, I'll wait until mid-May for another check-up and blood check (and port flush--I still have the port and we need to ensure it's not clogged, so they need to "flush" it with saline every four to six weeks). In June, I'll have a CT scan to (hopefully) verify that there is no cancer in my body. In July, I'll have a bilateral mammogram, and if that, too, looks good, I can finally have the port removed. (It's a drag to remove it only to have to put it back in, should a person need more chemo.)
And there you go.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
It's Not Cancer
The lumpy stuff was, indeed, fat necrosis along with something else (we'll get a copy of the pathology report tomorrow, I hope). Frank says he already knew it, he's just glad I know now. ;-)
So, sorry for freaking everyone out.
Now I can relax and look forward to seeing San Simeon with Emily and Robert next month. Whew. I don't know what else to say. Just "whew".
Boy I love the world right now.
So, sorry for freaking everyone out.
Now I can relax and look forward to seeing San Simeon with Emily and Robert next month. Whew. I don't know what else to say. Just "whew".
Boy I love the world right now.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Almost There
A brief aside: So many times in the past half year, I've felt like that guy at the end of Star Wars--the one who is tasked with dropping a charge into the chute that will cause the explosion and destruction of the Death Star. You know him--he's the guy who is focused on his targeting device and he keeps saying, "Almost there..... almost there.... almost there...."
So here we are again. Almost there.... :-)
The biopsy went just fine this morning, though I couldn't help but get weepy. The last time I did this the result was pretty awful and it's hard for my imagination to avoid that scary place. I've been a bit of a wreck for the past several days and I've been a little crazy/grouchy with my loved ones. My poor husband. His patience seems to know no bounds.
With the stress, it's been extremely difficult for me to fall asleep the past week or so, and last night as I was preparing for bed I thought, "Well, duh" and I took an Atavan. I feel asleep with nary a hitch. Thank heavens for medication.
Dr. Wong (Sue--for your chart--he's the doctor at the mammography and imaging center, and he did the biopsy this time, as well as last time) said it could be something called fat necrosis, and the samples floated in the solution in their little jar, so there's the bit of hope to which I currently cling.
We should have results by Thursday or Friday.
So here we are again. Almost there.... :-)
The biopsy went just fine this morning, though I couldn't help but get weepy. The last time I did this the result was pretty awful and it's hard for my imagination to avoid that scary place. I've been a bit of a wreck for the past several days and I've been a little crazy/grouchy with my loved ones. My poor husband. His patience seems to know no bounds.
With the stress, it's been extremely difficult for me to fall asleep the past week or so, and last night as I was preparing for bed I thought, "Well, duh" and I took an Atavan. I feel asleep with nary a hitch. Thank heavens for medication.
Dr. Wong (Sue--for your chart--he's the doctor at the mammography and imaging center, and he did the biopsy this time, as well as last time) said it could be something called fat necrosis, and the samples floated in the solution in their little jar, so there's the bit of hope to which I currently cling.
We should have results by Thursday or Friday.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Playing Hardball
As Dr. Kuan said yesterday, "If they (ABMG) want to play hardball, we'll play hardball."
True to her word, Dr. Champion tried valiantly to contact Dr. Wong on Monday (and yesterday) to schedule a biopsy. He moves from imaging facility to imaging facility and so he was difficult to track down but she finally got his cell phone number (they're not supposed to do that, but she can be very charming and persistent) and got him to approve a biopsy for next Tuesday morning.
Of course, she left me this message while I was meeting with Dr. Kuan yesterday, and I didn't retrieve the message until Dr. Kuan left the examination room to try to track down Dr. Wong to get him to approve a biopsy. :-) It's all very symmetrical, isn't it?
Dr. Kuan said that Alta Bates Medical Group takes an egregiously long time to approve *anything* and that Hill Physicians is much better. Unfortunately, my primary care physician is not with Hill Physicians, so, unless I have another tumor, I'll stay with the awful ABMG.
So anyway, I have an appointment next Tuesday morning, and then I'll see Dr. Champion that Friday, and Dr. Kuan again the following Tuesday. And we'll know where we stand.
Meanwhile, Dr. Kuan says the mass (or hard area, or thick skin, or whatever you want to call it) has not grown in the four weeks since she felt it. She still suspects it's scar tissue, but given the distance from the surgery site, it's better to know what it is. (And if the MRI was inconclusive, we'd have to do a biopsy anyway, so....)
It feels good to have a plan of action again, rather than just waiting (and waiting and waiting).
Oh! and our office is almost done. I took pics last night of the job halfway done. They're at our house right now, finishing up. And then we shall start emptying our garage of the multitude of boxes. I'll post pics this weekend, when everything is in its place.
True to her word, Dr. Champion tried valiantly to contact Dr. Wong on Monday (and yesterday) to schedule a biopsy. He moves from imaging facility to imaging facility and so he was difficult to track down but she finally got his cell phone number (they're not supposed to do that, but she can be very charming and persistent) and got him to approve a biopsy for next Tuesday morning.
Of course, she left me this message while I was meeting with Dr. Kuan yesterday, and I didn't retrieve the message until Dr. Kuan left the examination room to try to track down Dr. Wong to get him to approve a biopsy. :-) It's all very symmetrical, isn't it?
Dr. Kuan said that Alta Bates Medical Group takes an egregiously long time to approve *anything* and that Hill Physicians is much better. Unfortunately, my primary care physician is not with Hill Physicians, so, unless I have another tumor, I'll stay with the awful ABMG.
So anyway, I have an appointment next Tuesday morning, and then I'll see Dr. Champion that Friday, and Dr. Kuan again the following Tuesday. And we'll know where we stand.
Meanwhile, Dr. Kuan says the mass (or hard area, or thick skin, or whatever you want to call it) has not grown in the four weeks since she felt it. She still suspects it's scar tissue, but given the distance from the surgery site, it's better to know what it is. (And if the MRI was inconclusive, we'd have to do a biopsy anyway, so....)
It feels good to have a plan of action again, rather than just waiting (and waiting and waiting).
Oh! and our office is almost done. I took pics last night of the job halfway done. They're at our house right now, finishing up. And then we shall start emptying our garage of the multitude of boxes. I'll post pics this weekend, when everything is in its place.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Still No MRI (but I love my radiation oncologist)
The surgeon's scheduler called yesterday morning to say that though ABMG is telling us five to seven days, it's been their (the surgeon's office) experience that it takes them 15 to 20 days. She also said they had a patient who was even more clearly indicated for an MRI than I and it had been refused. They got it sorted out with the help of the insurance commission, but still. Given that Dr. Kuan felt this hard mass almost a month ago (1/15), that kind of delay is heart-breaking.
My lawyer was at home when this call came, and after taking this news from the scheduler asked me if it was time for a letter. I wholeheartedly concurred and we cranked out a letter yesterday to: the CA insurance commission, Blue Shield, Alta Bates Medical Group (the gatekeeper*), and the surgeon's office. The upshot of the letter was that this delay is unconscionable given that the surgeon, the oncologist, and the radiologist all agree it's indicated. And that if my cancer moves from a stage 2B/3A to a stage 4, and it's determined that ABMG's delay had anything to do with such an "upgrade", this letter is our stake in the ground. It's wearying, really. Conflict is not fun, but neither is letting bullies push you around, so here we are.
Meanwhile, my radiation oncologist, aptly named Dr. Champion, is frustrated and thinks that this is terrible (yay! for validation). She's going to contact Dr. Wong (the radiologist who recommended the MRI in the first place) to see if he can't just do a biopsy. And that would be lovely. So we'll see.
So, there we are. Once again, I'm weary of talking about this. As Frank noted, I am the Worst-Case Scenario Girl, and since the worst case is pretty icky here, I prefer just not to go there at all. Thank you for your continued grace and patience with me as I go about my "let's not talk about this until we know what we're talking about" stance.
*A brief explanation for those not enjoying my type of insurance. My insurance company is Blue Shield. I've had absolutely no complaints about them. They've been wonderful throughout. Likewise, my doctors--all absolutely wonderful. The problem has been the intermediary--Alta Bates Medical Group. Basically, Blue Shield pays the bills, but does not review all my claims, ABMG does. So, in a typical situation, the doctor prescribes a course of treatment, ABMG reviews and approves (or denies) it, and Blue Shield pays the bill. I'm assuming that this middle man gets some sort of cut, or gets some sort of compensation, and that expensive treatments take a bite out of their profits, and so.... something like an MRI (which is somewhat expensive) is dissuaded. My lawyer husband calls this "institutional delay" and it's not something they should be doing. But I think we all know that it's about the bottom line, and whatever a company--any company--can get away with, they will. Unfortunately, we're talking about someone's health here, which makes that posture even less palatable than ever.
My lawyer was at home when this call came, and after taking this news from the scheduler asked me if it was time for a letter. I wholeheartedly concurred and we cranked out a letter yesterday to: the CA insurance commission, Blue Shield, Alta Bates Medical Group (the gatekeeper*), and the surgeon's office. The upshot of the letter was that this delay is unconscionable given that the surgeon, the oncologist, and the radiologist all agree it's indicated. And that if my cancer moves from a stage 2B/3A to a stage 4, and it's determined that ABMG's delay had anything to do with such an "upgrade", this letter is our stake in the ground. It's wearying, really. Conflict is not fun, but neither is letting bullies push you around, so here we are.
Meanwhile, my radiation oncologist, aptly named Dr. Champion, is frustrated and thinks that this is terrible (yay! for validation). She's going to contact Dr. Wong (the radiologist who recommended the MRI in the first place) to see if he can't just do a biopsy. And that would be lovely. So we'll see.
So, there we are. Once again, I'm weary of talking about this. As Frank noted, I am the Worst-Case Scenario Girl, and since the worst case is pretty icky here, I prefer just not to go there at all. Thank you for your continued grace and patience with me as I go about my "let's not talk about this until we know what we're talking about" stance.
*A brief explanation for those not enjoying my type of insurance. My insurance company is Blue Shield. I've had absolutely no complaints about them. They've been wonderful throughout. Likewise, my doctors--all absolutely wonderful. The problem has been the intermediary--Alta Bates Medical Group. Basically, Blue Shield pays the bills, but does not review all my claims, ABMG does. So, in a typical situation, the doctor prescribes a course of treatment, ABMG reviews and approves (or denies) it, and Blue Shield pays the bill. I'm assuming that this middle man gets some sort of cut, or gets some sort of compensation, and that expensive treatments take a bite out of their profits, and so.... something like an MRI (which is somewhat expensive) is dissuaded. My lawyer husband calls this "institutional delay" and it's not something they should be doing. But I think we all know that it's about the bottom line, and whatever a company--any company--can get away with, they will. Unfortunately, we're talking about someone's health here, which makes that posture even less palatable than ever.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Hair Today....
Some peachy fuzz-like stuff starting growing on my head right around the time of my last chemo treatment, which means it was starting to grow even while I my body was processing the Taxol. Of course, to balance this out, I've lost most of my eyebrows and eyelashes... (it's all about the yin and the yang of life, right?)
Dennis took a photo of me to post here.
At first, Frank and I were hoping I would be a lovely sophisticated silver or white, but it's looking very salt & pepper, so I'm thinking I might dye it in late spring/early summer, when the hair is around an inch long.... The hair is just long enough that some folks (who don't know me) are assuming the look is intentional. Ahem. Well, that's okay, too.
MRI Update: I called ABMG yesterday to follow up on the request for authorization and was told that it would be another five to seven days. Also, the person there indicated that the request was for MRI on both breasts. This strikes me as a mistake and what might be slowing down the process. I called the surgeon's office and left a message that I wanted to ask that he resubmit this request and make it "urgent". I've not heard back from him, so I don't know if he did it and didn't call, or if it's "in their system" or what. Anyway.
My radiation oncologist, meanwhile, had me give my info to her nurse, Donna. She felt that it was very possible that the request for both breasts might slow things down. In any case, they are pursuing the approval from their camp, so maybe between the surgeon's office and the radiation oncology office....? I mean, really. It's been three weeks since Dr. Kuan felt the lump. And I'm waiting for a #*&#$ approval. Ergh. More news when I have it....
(Have you noticed the preponderance of ellipses in this entry? Reflective of my current mood, I'm sure. Just waiting.....)
Dennis took a photo of me to post here.
At first, Frank and I were hoping I would be a lovely sophisticated silver or white, but it's looking very salt & pepper, so I'm thinking I might dye it in late spring/early summer, when the hair is around an inch long.... The hair is just long enough that some folks (who don't know me) are assuming the look is intentional. Ahem. Well, that's okay, too.MRI Update: I called ABMG yesterday to follow up on the request for authorization and was told that it would be another five to seven days. Also, the person there indicated that the request was for MRI on both breasts. This strikes me as a mistake and what might be slowing down the process. I called the surgeon's office and left a message that I wanted to ask that he resubmit this request and make it "urgent". I've not heard back from him, so I don't know if he did it and didn't call, or if it's "in their system" or what. Anyway.
My radiation oncologist, meanwhile, had me give my info to her nurse, Donna. She felt that it was very possible that the request for both breasts might slow things down. In any case, they are pursuing the approval from their camp, so maybe between the surgeon's office and the radiation oncology office....? I mean, really. It's been three weeks since Dr. Kuan felt the lump. And I'm waiting for a #*&#$ approval. Ergh. More news when I have it....
(Have you noticed the preponderance of ellipses in this entry? Reflective of my current mood, I'm sure. Just waiting.....)
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Make Me Wanna Holler
To recap: My oncologist felt something hard in my left breast (the one currently being treated with radiation everyday for breast cancer) on January 15. I had an inconclusive ultrasound last Friday, January 25. The doctor on staff at the imaging center left a message for Dr. Kuan, recommending an MRI.
On Monday, my oncologist's nurse tried to get the authorization in for the MRI, but was told that my surgeon had to request the authorization. Why? I don't know why. But she was attentive to my needs and tried to pass it on to the surgeon's office and have them get the authorization.
Someone in that office told her that I needed to come in to the office before they could do that. I was somewhat outraged by that and called the surgeon's office, explaining that I had been in to see Dr. Broderick-Villa for a follow-up in December and I didn't see the point coming in to see them just to have them say, "okay, we'll request this authorization." Dr. Broderick called back that afternoon/evening and expressed his total agreement. He was very nice and said he'd get the request to the scheduler the next day (Tuesday).
Tuesday came and went.
At the end of yesterday (Wednesday), I called the surgeon's office and asked to speak to the scheduler. She didn't expressly state it, but it sounded like she did not get the request sent to Alta Bates Medical Group (my gatekeeper for Blue Shield) until that day (Wednesday). Furthermore, she said it typically takes ABMG 15 to 20 days (!) to approve MRIs. I expressed my surprise and she said that everything changed last summer and it just takes a really long time. And if they (the surgeon's office) mark it as urgent, to try to speed up the process, it gets stuck at the bottom of the pile and takes even longer.
Out of frustration, I called Blue Shield. I expressed my dismay and the woman agreed that, indeed, 15 to 20 days was an egregiously long time. She very nicely gave me the number to file a grievance, and suggested I talk to ABMG, to verify that they could/would/might take that long.
When I get this mad and/or frustrated, I cry. It's how I'm made and I don't like it, but there it is. So, weepy and mad, I called ABMG. The woman there was very nice (*you* try being mean to a woman with breast cancer who is crying at you on the phone--I dare you) and, while she wouldn't say it never taken that long, that was the exception and she would expect that, given my history, etc. I should have approval in three to five days. She told me that the request was not yet in the system and that I should call back the next day (today) to ensure that they had received the request.
And here we are. I called ABMG today and was told that the request was entered in to the system at 1:45 p.m. today. This is four days after the ultrasound, mind you. <sigh>. The kindly gentleman told me it could take up to five to seven business days for approval. (And then we get to try to schedule something. I wonder how long *that* will take?)
If I don't hear by Wednesday of next week, I'm calling to see where it is. And then, depending on how angry I am, I'll call Blue Shield or the surgeon's office or both. (I think the scheduler at the surgeon's office has too much to do, quite frankly. I think she could have turned this around a bit faster. Which is not to take any of the pressure off ABMG. But she really didn't need to scare me into thinking I wasn't getting an MRI for another month while obfuscating the fact that she had that request for a full day before she sent it in.) See how ticked off I am?
But honestly? For all you caring, wonderful people out there, who keep emailing me or trying to "not bother me" out of love and empathy--please know that for the most part, I'm somewhat Zen about this. It is what it is and I'll find out just what that is sooner or later (looking like later right now, isn't it?) And while I don't want to talk about this bit of the unknown, that doesn't mean I don't want to talk or that I'm fragile or anything. When we know something, be sure that I will let everyone know, right away.
In the meantime, life goes on and I have completed eight of 35 scheduled radiation treatments. Yay! I've written numbers 35 through 1 on my whiteboard at work and I'm crossing off each treatment. It's extremely gratifying. :-)
On Monday, my oncologist's nurse tried to get the authorization in for the MRI, but was told that my surgeon had to request the authorization. Why? I don't know why. But she was attentive to my needs and tried to pass it on to the surgeon's office and have them get the authorization.
Someone in that office told her that I needed to come in to the office before they could do that. I was somewhat outraged by that and called the surgeon's office, explaining that I had been in to see Dr. Broderick-Villa for a follow-up in December and I didn't see the point coming in to see them just to have them say, "okay, we'll request this authorization." Dr. Broderick called back that afternoon/evening and expressed his total agreement. He was very nice and said he'd get the request to the scheduler the next day (Tuesday).
Tuesday came and went.
At the end of yesterday (Wednesday), I called the surgeon's office and asked to speak to the scheduler. She didn't expressly state it, but it sounded like she did not get the request sent to Alta Bates Medical Group (my gatekeeper for Blue Shield) until that day (Wednesday). Furthermore, she said it typically takes ABMG 15 to 20 days (!) to approve MRIs. I expressed my surprise and she said that everything changed last summer and it just takes a really long time. And if they (the surgeon's office) mark it as urgent, to try to speed up the process, it gets stuck at the bottom of the pile and takes even longer.
Out of frustration, I called Blue Shield. I expressed my dismay and the woman agreed that, indeed, 15 to 20 days was an egregiously long time. She very nicely gave me the number to file a grievance, and suggested I talk to ABMG, to verify that they could/would/might take that long.
When I get this mad and/or frustrated, I cry. It's how I'm made and I don't like it, but there it is. So, weepy and mad, I called ABMG. The woman there was very nice (*you* try being mean to a woman with breast cancer who is crying at you on the phone--I dare you) and, while she wouldn't say it never taken that long, that was the exception and she would expect that, given my history, etc. I should have approval in three to five days. She told me that the request was not yet in the system and that I should call back the next day (today) to ensure that they had received the request.
And here we are. I called ABMG today and was told that the request was entered in to the system at 1:45 p.m. today. This is four days after the ultrasound, mind you. <sigh>. The kindly gentleman told me it could take up to five to seven business days for approval. (And then we get to try to schedule something. I wonder how long *that* will take?)
If I don't hear by Wednesday of next week, I'm calling to see where it is. And then, depending on how angry I am, I'll call Blue Shield or the surgeon's office or both. (I think the scheduler at the surgeon's office has too much to do, quite frankly. I think she could have turned this around a bit faster. Which is not to take any of the pressure off ABMG. But she really didn't need to scare me into thinking I wasn't getting an MRI for another month while obfuscating the fact that she had that request for a full day before she sent it in.) See how ticked off I am?
But honestly? For all you caring, wonderful people out there, who keep emailing me or trying to "not bother me" out of love and empathy--please know that for the most part, I'm somewhat Zen about this. It is what it is and I'll find out just what that is sooner or later (looking like later right now, isn't it?) And while I don't want to talk about this bit of the unknown, that doesn't mean I don't want to talk or that I'm fragile or anything. When we know something, be sure that I will let everyone know, right away.
In the meantime, life goes on and I have completed eight of 35 scheduled radiation treatments. Yay! I've written numbers 35 through 1 on my whiteboard at work and I'm crossing off each treatment. It's extremely gratifying. :-)
Friday, January 25, 2008
It Could Be Nothing....
So, the ultrasound yielded more ambiguity. So they did a mammogram, which was similarly non-conclusive.
Dr. Wong tried to get hold of my oncologist, Dr. Kuan, but was unsuccessful. He wants to do an MRI to see if that tells us anything.
Basically, he says, the mass does not look like what he would typically think of as a cancerous mass. But he can't tell what it is and so says we need to do an MRI to see if anything has metastisized. If the MRI indicates it's not something good, or is--like everything else so far--inconclusive, then we'll do a biopsy.
Frank would prefer we just do the biopsy and cut to the chase. Me? I'm just tired.
So, we'll wait to hear from Dr. Kuan and then do the MRI. Meanwhile, I still can't talk about this. It's too frustrating and it makes me weep. And I'm so weary of weeping.
Dr. Wong tried to get hold of my oncologist, Dr. Kuan, but was unsuccessful. He wants to do an MRI to see if that tells us anything.
Basically, he says, the mass does not look like what he would typically think of as a cancerous mass. But he can't tell what it is and so says we need to do an MRI to see if anything has metastisized. If the MRI indicates it's not something good, or is--like everything else so far--inconclusive, then we'll do a biopsy.
Frank would prefer we just do the biopsy and cut to the chase. Me? I'm just tired.
So, we'll wait to hear from Dr. Kuan and then do the MRI. Meanwhile, I still can't talk about this. It's too frustrating and it makes me weep. And I'm so weary of weeping.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
An Eventful Week
It's been a very busy four days (in a good way).
On Friday, I had my radiation simulation. They did CT scans a week or two ago so that Dr. Champion could plan my treatment. Then on Friday, the radiation "therapists" (I tend to think of them more as "technicians", but if they need to call themselves "therapists", who am I to argue?) took x-rays to verify that the plans made based on the CT scans were appropriate. And they were.
Not only is my heart completely out of scope for the radiation treatment, but my lungs are only about 1 to 1.5 centimeters in range. The therapist was trying to tell me--without sounding weird about it--that I have a good build for this. Of course, that is good news, but what a strange thing to have a good build for, don't you think?
They also gave me a schedule of all my radiation appointments. I had my first of 35 treatments today. I'll go everyday (4:30 p.m. today, Wednesday, and Thursday, and 8:30 a.m. each day thereafter) for about 30 minutes.
I checked myself in today, changed into the gown, and waited for the therapist to come get me. Then Joel and (Andrew?) lined me up to match the photos and tattoo matrices (I have three pin dot tattoos surrounding the area), and then they zapped me three times: first was the lymph node area, then the left side of the breast and then the right side. And I was done. One down, 34 to go. :-)
This weekend Maggie and I had a really wonderful time with some really wonderful people. Deirdre Bauer and I drove up to North Lake Tahoe on Friday afternoon with Maggie and Celia. Carla and Deirdre Greene joined us Saturday with Siobhan and Lila. It was a little late to start skiing, so we went to some hot springs just beyond Carson City, where we all sat in the very warm, pleasantly smelly water (about 105 degrees Fahrenheit). That night, after dinner, I got a bit tipsy for the first time since August.
The next day, the girls all went skiing/boarding (after a lesson for each--three on snowboard and Siobhan on skis) and the moms went for a walk near the lake and ended up in the bar at the Hyatt (who could have foreseen *that*?). After dinner, the girls went to see 27 Dresses and Carla taught us how to play Bridge (and more wine was drunk).
Coming home was a bit eventful: the battery on the Mercedes took issue with the 22 degree external temperature, and this is why we pay for AAA each year. Deirdre Greene and I enjoyed an eight hour drive home yesterday, but we were fairly Zen about it. It was easy to be Zen when Carla had all four of the 13-year old girls in her car. I'd say that Carla has some serious karma in her favor right now.
On Friday, I had my radiation simulation. They did CT scans a week or two ago so that Dr. Champion could plan my treatment. Then on Friday, the radiation "therapists" (I tend to think of them more as "technicians", but if they need to call themselves "therapists", who am I to argue?) took x-rays to verify that the plans made based on the CT scans were appropriate. And they were.
Not only is my heart completely out of scope for the radiation treatment, but my lungs are only about 1 to 1.5 centimeters in range. The therapist was trying to tell me--without sounding weird about it--that I have a good build for this. Of course, that is good news, but what a strange thing to have a good build for, don't you think?
They also gave me a schedule of all my radiation appointments. I had my first of 35 treatments today. I'll go everyday (4:30 p.m. today, Wednesday, and Thursday, and 8:30 a.m. each day thereafter) for about 30 minutes.
I checked myself in today, changed into the gown, and waited for the therapist to come get me. Then Joel and (Andrew?) lined me up to match the photos and tattoo matrices (I have three pin dot tattoos surrounding the area), and then they zapped me three times: first was the lymph node area, then the left side of the breast and then the right side. And I was done. One down, 34 to go. :-)
This weekend Maggie and I had a really wonderful time with some really wonderful people. Deirdre Bauer and I drove up to North Lake Tahoe on Friday afternoon with Maggie and Celia. Carla and Deirdre Greene joined us Saturday with Siobhan and Lila. It was a little late to start skiing, so we went to some hot springs just beyond Carson City, where we all sat in the very warm, pleasantly smelly water (about 105 degrees Fahrenheit). That night, after dinner, I got a bit tipsy for the first time since August.
The next day, the girls all went skiing/boarding (after a lesson for each--three on snowboard and Siobhan on skis) and the moms went for a walk near the lake and ended up in the bar at the Hyatt (who could have foreseen *that*?). After dinner, the girls went to see 27 Dresses and Carla taught us how to play Bridge (and more wine was drunk).
Coming home was a bit eventful: the battery on the Mercedes took issue with the 22 degree external temperature, and this is why we pay for AAA each year. Deirdre Greene and I enjoyed an eight hour drive home yesterday, but we were fairly Zen about it. It was easy to be Zen when Carla had all four of the 13-year old girls in her car. I'd say that Carla has some serious karma in her favor right now.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Le Sigh
Well, I went for my post chemo check-up with Dr. Kuan and she did what should have been a routine breast exam, just to make sure everything is okay. Unfortunately, there is something hard on my left breast, a bit beyond where scar tissue should be, closer to the nipple.
I told her that I experienced some pain in the area last night, and she's confused. Since the incision site itself is nice and soft, it's even more confusing. *Sigh* So. I'm having an ultrasound on the 25th (I know. Ten whole days. Can you even believe it?) to see if it's scar tissue (her best guess) or something else (which is why you do an ultrasound, right?)
More than anything else, I'm weary. I'm so very, very tired of this. And now, at what should be almost the end, we've got a "what is that" question. Well. There it is.
Meanwhile, still planning to start radiation. Got my "dress rehearsal" on Friday, and then I think I'm starting next Tuesday.
This weekend? Tahoe with Deirdre B, Deirdre G, Carla, and our daughters. I plan to drink. :-)
P.S. I genuinely appreciate the kind thoughts and words, but I'm not really up for talking about this right now. I'm frustrated and feeling a bit futile because I dont' have an action plan. I can't have an action plan--either way--until I know what's what. And I won't know that until the ultrasound. So, please, just try to bear with me until the 25th. And in the meantime, thanks for your patience.
I told her that I experienced some pain in the area last night, and she's confused. Since the incision site itself is nice and soft, it's even more confusing. *Sigh* So. I'm having an ultrasound on the 25th (I know. Ten whole days. Can you even believe it?) to see if it's scar tissue (her best guess) or something else (which is why you do an ultrasound, right?)
More than anything else, I'm weary. I'm so very, very tired of this. And now, at what should be almost the end, we've got a "what is that" question. Well. There it is.
Meanwhile, still planning to start radiation. Got my "dress rehearsal" on Friday, and then I think I'm starting next Tuesday.
This weekend? Tahoe with Deirdre B, Deirdre G, Carla, and our daughters. I plan to drink. :-)
P.S. I genuinely appreciate the kind thoughts and words, but I'm not really up for talking about this right now. I'm frustrated and feeling a bit futile because I dont' have an action plan. I can't have an action plan--either way--until I know what's what. And I won't know that until the ultrasound. So, please, just try to bear with me until the 25th. And in the meantime, thanks for your patience.
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