Gary

Today was my 23^rd session of radiation. Only five more to go. I was feeling pretty foul this morning as I was headed to the hospital for my session. I woke up feeling tired.  The fatigue from radiation is accumulative and I am definitely feeling the effects as I near the end.  This week has been very busy at work and coming in late everyday makes me feel rushed once I get to work and I spend the entire day feeling behind.

I have the first appointment of the day for my radiation therapy.  They have two machines, so there are two of us that arrive just before 8 AM – me and Gary.  Gary is older than I am – maybe in his late fifties or early sixties.  But he is a spry looking gentleman.  Had I not met him in the radiation waiting room, I would have never suspected he is a cancer patient.  He likes to watch the news in the morning and often chats with patients as they arrive.  He has always been cheerful and I have often wondered about why Gary was receiving radiation.

Today Gary and I finished up at the same time so we rode the elevator down together and had to wait for our vehicles.  Gary was not his usual cheerful self this morning and started telling me about his treatment.  He is not only receiving daily radiation, but is also undergoing chemotherapy right now.  Gary can’t eat at all because his throat is too raw.  I shared with him that I had previously gone through radiation of the neck area and understood his plight.  He said he’s tired, he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, and he feels like he has no quality of life right now.  He said they gave him a 60-70% chance of getting through this and that it had better work because he wouldn’t do this again.  Gary asked me how long it took to get my taste back after treatment.  I shared with him that it was a good 2-3 months before food tasted right again.  He said that his cancer was Stage 4 which is why they are treating him so aggressively.

Our cars arrived around that time so we waved and headed our separate ways.  Gary also goes to work each day after his radiation.  Those of us who fight for the early appointments usually have someplace to be.

Talking to Gary definitely gave me an attitude adjustment.  I have been complaining about being tired, but at least I can sleep.  And I can’t eat the things I would like to eat, but I am able to eat without pain.  And most importantly I am fighting the potential of cancer and not actual cancer.  Gary is fighting the real fight.

I am grateful for Gary and am sending him my hopes for the strength that he needs to get through this experience.  I am also reminded that I need to practice kindness.  You can never tell by looking at someone what they are going through at any given moment.  Life is hard sometimes, and everyone has a rough patch now and then. 

My rough patch is almost over.  And for that I am very grateful.

How Are You Feeling?

I am getting this question a lot lately. Now that everyone knows that I’m cancer free I feel like there is an expectation that I’m back to normal. Even in my own mind I am convincing myself that all is well now.

Unfortunately though, I am just over two weeks out from my last chemotherapy session. My finger tips are still numb. My hair just stopped falling out. My digestion process is still out of whack. My mouth feel and taste are just getting back to normal. I still covet sleep. My muscles ache terribly after any sort of exertion. I know that they staggered each chemotherapy session to be 21 days apart so that you could recover prior to the next session. Next Thursday will be my 21-day mark so I’m hoping it is downhill after that point.

That being said, just knowing that the cancer is gone has made me feel so much better and has made the side-effects pretty manageable. I’ve really been trying to get back into a normal rhythm again. I worked a pretty full week last week. This past weekend was a full one as well. We went to Charlotte to shop at IKEA and Trader Joes on Saturday. I do have to admit, IKEA was exhausting. We had to take a break between furniture and housewares.

This upcoming week brings work travel! This is my first travel since the cancer diagnosis. I am meeting with the oncologist tomorrow for my post-chemotherapy follow-up, and then I am flying to Nashville for a few days. I have to admit I’m a little nervous about the work travel. I hate having to wear a wig, and I hate it when I can see people trying to gauge how to react to it. I also hope that I am fully-firing mentally. Sometimes when I’m really tired, I can’t find words or form my thoughts as quickly. I plan on going to bed really early Monday after my flight to Nashville in order to get a full night’s rest before my meetings start on Tuesday.

I will miss home the next few days. Robbie has really been my rock during this cancer thing, and I’ve really come to depend on him – particularly at the end of the day when I need to just talk through how I’m feeling about everything. I’ve told many people that the physical part of cancer was a little easier than I expected, and the mental part was a bit harder than I expected. But it certainly made me stronger.

Anyways, I have some laundry and packing to do and some resting to do. Hope you all have a great week. Wish me luck at my oncology appointment!

Irrational Much?

I didn’t realize how anxious I would be about the upcoming PET scan. The actual scan isn’t the issue. It’s an easy couple of hours filled with warm blankets and specific instructions to relax. It’s the results that are causing the angst.

This PET scan serves as a decision point. It will provide the information needed to determine the course of treatment, and therefore what my life is going to be like for the next few months. I’ll finally know if this last two months of having my life on “pause” will have been worth it. To some extent, we know it has been working because physically we can’t feel the tumor that led to the diagnosis. But we need to confirm that it’s happening in all the places it needs to happen. Even if the scan comes back clear, I will most likely have to finish three more chemotherapy cycles at a minimum to prevent recurrence. But I think if I knew that there was a definite end in sight it might make the experience a bit more tolerable.

We haven’t even talked about what the course of action will be if all is not well with the scan. I’ve started doing online research to prepare myself for that conclusion to make sure I ask the right questions. I know it’s unlikely, but I don’t want to be surprised. From my research, the options vary. For some, it’s additional cycles. For others, they change the type of chemotherapy used. The good news is, apparently we wouldn’t just give up. The bad news is that my pause button would be pressed for a bit longer.

Logically, I can tell myself that it’s going well, and that the PET scan will show good news. But emotionally I can’t stop playing the other scenarios in my head. I am not sure why it’s been particularly bad over the last week. The game plan has been in place since December and I’ve known that we’d be doing this scan about halfway through treatment. And for the first few days after it was scheduled, I was elated because that meant we had reached another milestone on the schedule. I think maybe the issue I’m having is that this is really the first hurdle that could change the game plan.

It is difficult to be diagnosed with something where you could actually…die. It’s hard to type. I hope you never have to experience something like this. It messes with your mind in such unexpected ways. The emotion is overwhelming and constant. Feelings of gratitude for the life you have. Unquantifiable hope for future days with those you love. Intolerance for those who are petty. Anger towards those that are wasting their days. Grief for the life that you might miss out on. Appreciation for the little things. And all of these feelings seem to come like a snowstorm – often one thought after another with no rhyme or reason until you feel so overwhelmed you just want to break down and cry. And that sometimes happens.

This angst is part of the reason I’ve tried to really focus on work this week. It keeps me mentally busy. But that is a double-edged sword. Working all day makes me fatigued at the end of the day. And mental fatigue makes me more likely to spiral into the negative thoughts that I am trying to avoid. I have a prescription from the oncologist for anxiety. He prescribed it when I started chemotherapy, and initially I thought I’d never use it. Now I find myself dutifully taking a pill nearly each evening to help me calm down and sleep. I do have to admit, it helps. It takes all those urgent and irrational thoughts, and quiets them a little. They still exist, but they are no longer desperately vying for attention.

I came home from work early today. I managed to work the full day Monday and Tuesday, but by early afternoon, I was feeling the fatigue coming on. I have a busy calendar tomorrow, so I took this afternoon to nap so that I can be effective and get through another full day tomorrow.

At least tonight is American Idol. Steven Tyler and his unpredictability will certainly distract me for a bit. And maybe after the nap I can make it through the whole episode!