My Long Day of Chemo

Arrived at the Cancer (free) Center at 10 am and returned home at 3:10. LONG day. Met more nice ladies. Seems as though everyone I meet is being chemo'd for breast cancer. Almost everyone is bald and is nearing the end of their treatment session.

I still have 12 chemo sessions left stretched over the next 4 or 5 months. Another almost 5 weeks of radiation. I am starting to develop esophagitis (sp?) which means that my esophagus is becoming a bit inflamed or something so it's hard to swallow; or after you swallow, the need for a long stick to poke everything down into the stomach might seem a handy thing to have. This is why many people who have radiation near that area lose weight - they go on a liquid diet (and NOT a liquor diet!!)Although if I could go on a liquor diet, I bet I would be really funny and have a bit more energy; of course I would - I'd be picking myself up from the floor, rolling down hills, falling up steps. Ohhhh, what an image that makes.



The above is a picture (2 years old - sorry I swapped out my harddrive which is now a SLAVE and haven't copied all my photos, music, and data to my new drive)portrays my kids, along with me and my sister-in-law Tessa.

My kids have been my salvation.

When I learned I had cancer on Weds., Dec. 2, 2009, I didn't call my kids until the next day. I needed a bit of time to understand that these things were being said about me. It wasn't anywhere near the end of the world as when I received the news of my husband's malignant melanoma, but it was rather nightmarish. I didn't cry, I really couldn't even think straight enough to ask any pertinent questions. Just kind of shook the doctor's hand as I told him "thank you" for letting me know. Larry was with me and he picked up the reins for the rest of that visit and called his doctor friend who called his doctor friend and got me in to a thoracic surgeon the next Monday and surgery the next Friday (12/11). I just sat back and let Larry row that boat - dead weight; yup, that was me. Semi-conscious dead weight with a quirky little smile on my face. I couldn't hear anything anybody said and just wanted to come home and sleep.

I called my adult children on Thursday; I don't remember the order, not that it matters. But Katie (my organizer - or Simon of my chipmunks) got things organized: who was going to come and stay with Aisling and Scout while I was in the hospital.
Who would help me until I felt good enough to go grocery shopping and walking around (shortness of breath and the pain was pretty awful for the first few weeks.)

Thank you Kate for being with me during my meeting with the thoracic surgeon and to hear the diagnosis go from 1a to 2b. Thank you for taking notes because honestly, I didn't remember much of what the doctor actually said. I was on autopilot.

Lauren and Larry were waiting for me after surgery. My wonderfully beautiful sister Kaydee wanted to stay with me in the hospital and be my guardian angel. Allison, my oldest daughter who will deliver my granddaughter in March, came and stayed from 12/13 until 12/22. Then Kate and Pat, and Lauren and Jonny came home on the 23rd for Christmas. That was one of the perks of being diagnosed. The kids really weren't coming home this year for Christmas - Terry and Allison McFarlan weren't able to make it because they both worked the next day (they live in Lake Geneva, WI via Scottsdale, AZ). Kate and Pat McFarlan weren't going to be able to come due to other commitments, but made it after all (they live in Chicago, IL via Scottsdale, AZ) and my little brown boy, Jonny Kokott decided to put me on his priority list and came home with Lauren Kokott (Milwaukee and Chicago respectively) but unfortunately they left the 26th early as Lauren had to be back at work.

I have to add (smile) that my daughters Allison and Kathleen met two Tempe brothers when they were attending ASU and both my girls realized what wonderful men Terry and Pat are...and now they're my sons-in-law. How lucky can a woman get? Not much luckier than that.

I had convinced Terry to come "home" (to West Des Moines) in Sept. and October to help me finish painting the exterior of my house. I had gotten the 1st floor painted, and the overhang and gutters but was afraid to venture too high on the ladder. While I wasn't running a marathon pre-diagnosis, I was very busy trying to paint before the weather got too cold.

The above paragraphs do nothing to convey the wonder and nurturing of hope I felt when Larry, Kate, Pat, Allie, Terry, Jonny, Lauren, Kaydee, Aisling, my big sister Anne Marie (Princess of Everything), my brothers John and Pat...my friends Beth and Marie gave me encouragement from afar as well as some of my own back at me to make me laugh.

I'm sure I'll have to edit this because it isn't written well because it doesn't convey articulately how much these people impacted my well-being.

I'll relook at this in the morning.

January 22, 2010
12:43 a.m.

Making tracks

In June I had a cough that I attributed to a respiratory infection that I got while working with a special ed student. Through the summer I continued to cough. I remember one night as I was watching television, I timed the interval between coughs to about 2 minutes. For those of you who DON'T know me, I LOVE to talk as much as I like to listen to a good story. This cough was devastating...I couldn't talk without coughing.

I was scared because this wasn't the typical kind of cough I get when I get a cold...just a non-productive cough that wouldn't go away. My oldest daughter was getting married in October and, as a widow, I would be giving some little speech on her big day and didn't want to exclamation point each word with a cough. I tried to get into Dr.'s Now (a walk-in clinic) and waited an hour before deciding I had too much to do and would return after the wedding.

The following Monday I had chest x-rays taken. The doctor there told me there was a spot (about 2 cm.) on my left lung and she recommended a CT scan. (This was about 10/19/09). I had the CT scan and it came back with no real diagnosis. A visit to a pulmonary specialist was then made sometime in November and by the 30th I had been in for a lung needle biopsy as well as a PET scan. (Why did I wait so long?) The diagnosis which came on December 2nd was "You have lung cancer. Adenocarcinoma, looks like stage 1A. We'll get you into a thoracic surgeon and he'll perform surgery to remove the lower left lobe of your lung and you should live to be an OLD lady (yeah, the old lady who lived in the shoe...)

The photo above is the aftermath of the incision. As you may be able to tell from the designer gown, I was still in the hospital. (smile) I will say although it hurts like a son of a gun still, my staples/skin healed very fast. (Let's hear GOOD SKIN...yes, I have wrinkles, but HEALTHY wrinkles...not that many...I don't wear my cheaters so if I have them, I can't see them. I'm rambling....get used to it.)

After the surgery, I was surprised when the chemo oncologist and then the radiation oncologist came in to my room to introduce themselves. I believed "they got it all" and I was "cured". Apparently it was more involved than the PET scan showed...and the staging went from 1A to somewhere between 2B and 3A. Those "odds" didn't appeal to me - 13-24%. Both doctors told me that I should not look at the stats as I don't fall into the usual category. I'm younger than the people in the statistic group, never been sick, have no other health issues, and didn't lose any weight, had no shortness of breath, wasn't coughing up anything and had no clue that I was "sick" (sometimes the cure is worse than the disease - it was for me up to this point.)

I started radiation on the 13th of January 2010, chemo on the 15th (cisplatin). On the 18th I started a week's worth of Etoposide (daily) and on Friday of this week I'll not only do the Etoposide, but the cisplatin as well. (Apparently Etoposide aka VP-16 doesn't make you throw up, it's the cisplatin.) After having imbibed intravenously of the cisplatin I really wanted to make the acquaintance of the porcelain throne but just dry heaves and I decided to forget it and just kind of cry a bit and swallow a lot!

This whole thing is no fun at all. *I choose life** My ribs, lung, my whole left side hurts but! I can sleep on either side again without too much pain (and it's been almost 5 weeks now). The radiation makes me feel like I have heartburn (I don't care that the tech says I shouldn't feel that yet and "it has to be the chemo"....) Maybe I'm a bit of a hypochondriac...

Etoposide (VP-16) is the chemo that will wilt my hair...not to worry though, I have two great wigs hiding in my closet waiting for the light of day. VP-16 isn't supposed to make me feel nauseous but they dosed me with anti-nausea enough for 3 days...thank you, thank you, thank you!

I would like to let people know how I'm feeling, what this is costing (not to get money, but just for those going through this who are curious - thankfully I have insurance), and the ups and downs of the physical as well as emotional side of having cancer. This disease makes me feel so isolated...then I sit in the chemo or radiation treatment area and see so many people...all ages...some very very young...and realize I have lived a wonderful life, with a handful of tremendous friends...and loving children.

Thirty some years ago my mother was diagnosed with Hodgkin's disease and went through chemo, radiation and something I remember being called "mustard" treatments. It was a horrible ordeal and I was very scared thinking my experience would resemble my mom's. Medicine has changed in the past 30 years.

January 19, 2010

Join me next time for the costs (submitted to insurance) as well as my incredible family and support network.