Glass More than Half Full

So we're 3/4 of the way there now. Yay!

I apologize for not posting in such a long time. The good news is that things have been pretty boring in cancer recovery land. The only ill side effect I suffered after the first Taxol (two weeks ago) was some muscle/bone achiness (it felt like I'd been working really hard in the garden the day before), which was easily remedied with some tylenol and advil.

In the meantime, we've been enjoying some holiday festivities with my folks, and getting some holiday shopping done, and writing Christmas cards, and working. Maggie had a nasty bug over the weekend (102.6 fever) and now is mostly better, but will have some trouble getting rid of the lingering effects, I think (coughs and sneezes). Basically, life goes on.

Mom accompanied me to my second Taxol infusion yesterday, and while things mostly went well, there were a couple bumps in the road. I was in the chemo room by 1:15, and the oncology nurse had my pre-meds all ready. She was having some trouble with the machine though, and so, while each of these three meds should have taken about 15 minutes, she had difficulty with the IV machine and there was a delay in getting each one going. It wasn't until my mom said, "maybe you should try another machine" that she seemed to consider this a viable option (there were at least two unused IVs in the room). Even taking these delays into account, I was ready for the Taxol no later than 2:30, and probably before. But my Taxol didn't get started until 3:10 p.m.

And then, about 15 or 20 minutes into the Taxol, I decided to throw some drama into the proceedings. The Benadryl (one of the three pre-meds) had pretty much knocked me out and so I was lying prone on the recliner. I was not necessarily sleeping, but I was dozing in an out and I was awakened by a tightening in my chest (felt like a classic asthma attack to me) and I could feel my cheeks flushing. I promptly knocked over my water bottle, reaching for my inhaler (poor Mom, trying to understand my mumbling and figure out what I wanted--sorry Mom!) while also trying to sit up and calling to the nurse, "I'm having a reaction to the Taxol..."

As soon as I was sitting up and had used my inhaler I was better. But the typical--and sensible--response to such a reaction is to stop the infusion. So, I got some O2 and felt better and the nurse took notes. A nurse and nurse's asst. ran breathlessly into the room, saying they'd been paged for a Taxol reaction and everyone told them all was okay. Good news--you don't have a crisis. Bad news--you ran down here for nothing. :-)

Since I was so clearly stabilized, they started the Taxol back up after about 15 minutes. Dr. Kuan dropped in to check on me, and to clarify what preceded my reaction, and we all think it would be better if I sat up during these infusions. Ah well. Only two to go.... :-)

Because I got started so late, I (and another patient) needed to be moved upstairs from the downstairs treatment room (where we were put because the main room upstairs was full when we started) around 5 p.m. Mom and I finally got to leave around 6:45 last night. I'm going to try to change my final two chemo appts to start earlier.

We got home, and Frank had made a nice roast chicken dinner for the five of us (Mom, Dad, Frank, me, and Maggie). And then my folks left for their RV up in Fairfield.

Oh! and this time, almost certainly because I did not do the steroids before going in, I got a full night's sleep last night. I feel great this morning and look forward to getting lots done. I'm sort of assuming I'll feel some aches and pains tomorrow, but again, I know it's easily remedied. It's not nearly as awful as the nausea, which required meds that knocked me out, and which has their own dopey residual effects. I prefer clarity, but that could just be me. :-)

In other news, Em has three finals this week, last one Friday at noon. So, we're hoping to see her bright shiny face by 8 or 9 on Friday night, when we'll be enjoying the company of John, Lynn, Kevin, and Sarah Price.

We're planning to get our Christmas tree on Saturday morning, and then Frank and I are going to my (always very fun) office holiday party at the Palace. We're spending the night there--carving out some romantic alone time in the middle of chemo and the holidays. All in all, it should be a lovely weekend. Hope your holidays are lovely and warm and (relatively) stress-free!

Change Is Good

Wow. My body is so very grateful to have been spared another treatment of Adriamycin. Tuesday's Taxol infusion and the aftermath have been much easier than the four prior AC infusions.

Mom and I arrived at the cancer center at 7:45 a.m. Tuesday morning. After blood work and some waiting, we were ushered into the chemo room and settled in around 9:15. I got the usual Kytril and Decadron (I had also taken some of these steroids the night before) and then got doses of Benadryl and Atavan. Those last two knocked me for a loop and I might misremember some details here, but nothing too awful, I'm sure. The Taxol infusion started, finally, around 10:45.

The nurse, Susan, was really helpful and explained to me and Mom everything she was doing. We both know a fair amount already, but I always prefer when a medico bothers to explain what they're doing--I much prefer a lack of mystery in my medical encounters.

All the little chemo cubicles have two chemo chairs (little recliners next to IV drips) and Mom and I were joined by a very nice woman named Pat, who was getting chemo for her second bout with ovarian cancer. One of the more interesting conversation points for me (well, at least, as much as I can remember) was about the concept of "chronic cancer". I've had several friends with breast cancer or with benign lumps or just cysts, and increasingly, breast cancer is being viewed as a treatable disease. It's kind of a freaky view after growing up with the notion that cancer equals death. (Well, a freaky view but also an extremely *welcome* one).

This notion, though, also requires a certain adjustment in one's thinking about life's duration. I will finish chemo in early January, undergo radiation, and then get a PET scan for the hoped-for "all clear". And then, because breast cancer can pop back after many years in remission, I will continue to be tested regularly in the hopes that I will continue to get these "all clear" results. And at some point, if the cancer makes an unwelcome appearance, I will go through some version of all this again. Kind of a drag. But, as they say, it sure beats the alternative.

I think if you had told me all this a year ago I would have found it extremely depressing. But after going through what I've experienced thus far, I am not so much "Zen" about it as I am matter-of-fact. The cancer is a fact. And so is the treatment. And there it is. Nothing more or less than that. (Frank might disagree with that perspective somewhat, as he told me at breakfast this morning that when this is all over I need to ensure it doesn't happen again. Because, as he noted, it's really not fun.)

So, anyway. Philosphical interlude aside, the treatment went well. Mom and I left the cancer center around 2 p.m. She drove me home and I settled into the sofa for an episode of Columbo and the occasional dozing. I don't even remember going to bed, but I obviously did because--and here's where the fun starts--I awoke at 1:23 a.m., and was not able to get back to sleep. I gave it the old college try for quite a while and gave up the ghost around 3. I've had insomnia before, post-chemo, but this was different. I had some energy and so decided to get some work done. I logged in on the PC and was amazingly productive.

Around 8:30 in the morning I went for a walk with Deirdre Greene, and then continued working until about 1 p.m., when I had to go back to the cancer center for my Neulasta shot. I figured that, after chemo and no sleep, I'd be ready to crash after that, but no! I went to Ashby Lumber and picked up a toilet to replace the almost useless upstairs toilet (Superior Plumbing installed it today and yay! we have a toilet that actually works now). After Ashby Lumber, I went to 4th Street and got a little bit of holiday shopping done. And then I went to the market to get some juice to ease the ingestion of the glutamine I'm taking to (hopefully) prevent the neoropathy associated with Taxol. Finally, around 4 p.m., I decided to take things easy.

This probably doesn't sound like a big deal, but given my past infusion experiences, this was beyond delightful. I was positively giddy with the energy I was feeling. Oh, and all this was without any drugs. No nausea, no nothing. It was lovely.

Yesterday, Thursday, I experienced some of the muscle pain my doctor warned me about, but that was easily handled with Tylenol and Advil. It could be that my body was just happy to have a change from the Adriamycin, and it could be that Taxol will just be easier. But for now, it's just really, really nice to not be doped up or nauseous or tired.

Now the only remaining hardship is the conjunctivitis I can't shake. I have an appointment with an opthalmologist on Monday to try to address this and in the meantime, I figure I can just deal.

And this weekend? Tomorrow is December 1 and that means I get to harrass my family into decorating for Christmas (not that it requires that much harrassment). We'll do everything but the tree, and then I hope to drag my mother around to some of the open studios in our area this weekend, just for fun and to get in the spirit.