I almost made it through 5 months of chemotherapy without getting sick. Almost. John has had a cough for a few weeks that he attributed to allergies. My oldest came down with a cough that didn’t sound right and a fever soon after. His pediatrician put him on antibiotics and he bounced back immediately. For the day he was home with me, we both wore masks and I stayed far from him and he confined himself to one corner of the family room and his room. I was armed with Lysol all day as well. My youngest came down with the same thing a few days later so on a Sunday morning, I hauled him off to City MD where they started him on antibiotics as well. Two days later, I took a hit. Chemotherapy makes me feel a little sluggish and off, this took it to a whole new level. If you’ve got a cold and are looking for sympathy, don’t come to me because that shit ain’t gonna work. Chemo and the crud and there is no down time as I have kids. After 5 days of antibiotics and me feeling worse, hauled myself in to my primary care doctor who placed me on a nebulizer in the office and added a long acting inhaler to the rescue inhaler I’m already on. Also prescribed was a course of steroids so I needed to check with my oncologist on the way home to make sure it was ok with her. By utilizing my entire team of physicians, I’ve found a way to keep myself out of having to go to the emergency room because that’s where we are told to go if we are ill. I like this much better. Oh, husband wound up seeing his physician, twice, because it wasn’t allergies...
In the middle of this crud cough illness, I had to see the cardiologist to make sure my heart has not taken a hit from then Herceptin therapy I am on. I had an echocardiogram back in December of 2017 when it was discovered I have a heart murmur that likes to play hide and go seek, much to the amusement of my doctor. I wasn’t amused but more like completely freaked out. Turns out, I’ve probably always had it and it’s my normal and doesn’t impact my life, much like the spina bifida I was born with that wasn’t discovered til much later in my life. I had my second echocardiogram in December, shortly after being kept overnight in the hospital because of a teeny tiny baby abscess. The abscess was fine, my heart rate wasn’t. It was in the 130’s. The first set of chemotherapy drugs did a number on my body and my heart rate was greatly impacted. Saw the cardiologist who attributed it to stress and chemotherapy and my echo came back good. Who woulda thunk that chemo folks are stressed to the max?! I’m ¼ of the way through with Herceptin and Perjeta which meant another check on the heart as there can be some damage from it. It’s rare but it happens and my oncologist is proactive. Once again, the echo came back good. Yes, I have a heart and it’s strong. The one thing I find comfort in is that any damage fro these two drugs is reversible, usually, in the rare event it happens. In the meantime, I will continue to exercise and eat the right things to keep my heart and the rest of my body strong, especially after finishing chemotherapy.
I met with the Chair of Radiation Oncology to determine whether or not I was a candidate for radiation. Radiation works differently than chemotherapy. It would have been 5 days per week for 5 weeks. There are risks to the heart, lung and rib bones in the area for radiation. There would be skin changes and some burns, nothing earth shattering. In my head, I was ready for it. The hardest part would have been the fact that my reconstructive plans would be off the table and a new game plan would need to be created at a later date, months after radiation were to end. Stoically, I sat there with my head spinning. The doctor explained my particular case of cancer to me very clearly. Mine wasn’t trying to go anywhere, it was a slow one, which is odd for an aggressive cancer. I dodged a major bullet with a lazy lethal cancer. My one positive node had micro traces of cancer that was very well encapsulated. One node with macro is usually a no for radiation. Mine was micro. My tumor was so well nestled in all of the tissue that was removed during the surgery that to say my margins were clear would be an understatement. She made it very very clear to me that with the surgery and chemotherapy and Herceptin/Perjeta infusions, I’m looking at being cured. I will be monitored and followed closely by a team of specialists for the rest of my life to ensure I am ok…but I have the rest of my life… a long and full one. Once I made it back to my car, all I could do was just cry. This was the first and last time I would be parking at the Radiation Oncology Center. It also hit me how close I am to being done. One more chemo to go. One more operation to go.
I used to think that a diagnosis of cancer would be the worst that could happen to me or that getting through it would be the hardest thing I have ever done. It’s not. I’m on the tail end of chemotherapy and while it has not been a walk in the park, it wasn’t the biggest obstacle in my life.
When I was in the hospital, the morning after my operation, my plastic surgeon came in to see me. He was the one who told me that my cancer had spread to my lymph node and that would mean chemotherapy. I was devastated. I also vividly remember him saying that it meant I have an uphill mountain to climb and it would be hard but I would not be alone. He and the surgical oncologist and a medical oncologist would be climbing with me. They have all been there every step of the way. Indeed I had a mountain to climb but I think I may have bulldozed my way through…I couldn’t wait to get to the other side an see what was waiting for me. I see the other side of the malignant mountain in a few days and begin the lovely road back to life…
Comments