Last night I couldn’t sleep very well. I was dreading today’s radiation oncology appointment and it was causing a little anxiety. I tossed and turned, and finally headed to the guest room to sleep so that I wouldn’t keep Robbie and the dogs awake. Robbie is a deep sleeper, and doesn’t hear when the dogs get up in the middle of the night. And because I had closed the door to the guest room, I didn’t hear the dog get up either.
When the alarm went off this morning, Robbie came to wake me and then proceeded to get ready for work. I headed downstairs to let the dogs out and was greeted by a whole lot of mess involving multiple rooms. My sweet Zoe was not well and had a very long night. Not the best way to start the day.
My appointment wasn’t until 10 AM and since I hadn’t slept very well, I decided to go back to sleep for an hour or so. When I got up again, I found even more “messes”. Fabulous. I again cleaned up the mess and then proceeded to head to my appointment.
The radiation oncology center is at the hospital. When I made the appointment, I was told to head directly to the department desk. But when I arrived no one was there. So I sat in the waiting room for a few minutes and another patient and a nurse walked up. The nurse said that we needed to head to registration in the hospital lobby. So I headed out to the lobby and waited in line at registration. When I finally got to the desk, she tells me that I don’t need to register and just to head on back to the department. So I proceed back to the desk, and this time there was someone from the department. She apologized – she thought she heard someone send me away and didn’t catch me in time.
Unfortunately, the news was what I expected. They want me to do a course of radiation. The Doctor said it decreased my overall chances of cancer recurrence by 10-15%. I completely understand, and I am going to do the radiation. But I would be lying if I said I was happy. They have scheduled me to come in on Monday to do my practice-run.
At this point in the day it was only 11 AM. I had cleaned up dog poop in four rooms and was told that I need to have radiation. One could say a bad tone was set for the day. I headed to work, and my exasperated state-of-mind made me feel overwhelmed by my to-do list. Everything seemed overwhelming and I felt like I was fighting back tears for a good bit of the day. I will try to explain why without sounding whiny, but really this is just a big ol’ whine fest.
I have been trying to balance work and appointments and some sort of home life, all while feeling constantly exhausted since Thanksgiving. And for just a moment I thought all that was over. I blame this emotional breakdown on the oncologist, who when asked what a clear PET Scan would mean, said that we’d celebrate. I think he was just trying to be positive, but he made me think for a moment that this nightmare was over.
Radiation will not be as bad as chemotherapy. But it will mean more juggling of my time. And it will mean more exhaustion. Being tired brings on a state-of-mind of depression that is sometimes hard to shake. I manage to do it many days, but today I’m just tired of it all. I wish I could just fast-forward time until this summer when this is all behind me.
This evening has at least redeemed the day a bit. I came home to warm chicken and dumplings waiting on the stove. My Mom knew I was having a rough day and left me a wonderful dinner to enjoy. The dog seems to be feeling better, and I’ve tried to relax while watching Glee.
I’ve stopped and started this post a couple of times. Robbie encouraged me to finish. One of the reasons I blog is in the hope that other people going through cancer treatment will happen across it, and will find comfort in knowing they are not alone. So for this reason only, I finished this post.
I was hoping that I was going to start posting a little less frequently, but it appears I will have something to write about a bit longer.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Celebration Time, Come On!
I have had a hard time writing lately. I’ve sat down to write this post a few times and haven’t been able to find the right words. But the more I think about it, it’s not an issue of finding words, but more an issue with trying to figure out how I am really feeling.
Let’s start with what is easy to define. Physically I’m feeling good. I traveled to Nashville last week and had a good trip filled with great meetings and a visit to my first honky tonk! The only problem I had regarding treks through the airport and Nashville was that my brand new Mary Janes rubbed a bit and I got a blister! It was a much different experience from my last trip through an airport in November when I was first diagnosed. I remember not being able to breathe that trip and stopping half a dozen times to catch my breath from the parking lot to the gate.
After traveling for most of last week and a busy day of shopping on Saturday, I do have to admit that by Sunday I was feeling a bit of fatigue. I slept until almost 10 AM, which is rare for me. I’m feeling good today though, so the extra sleep and downtime definitely helped.
Tomorrow is my radiation consultation. I am not going to be angry if I have to do radiation. I know that the cancer is currently gone, and I know how happy that makes me. If radiation helps to ensure that it stays gone, then I can accept that course of action. I am a little annoyed, but my annoyance comes mainly from the fact that I thought I wouldn’t have to do radiation.
I had asked the oncologist a few weeks ago what we would do if the PET scan was clear and his exact response was “We’ll celebrate.” I hate to nitpick, but radiation does not exactly sound like a celebration. Unless they give out champagne and strawberries and play Kool and the Gang while you’re being treated…
Radiation, from my understanding, is not as bad as going through chemotherapy. One of the worse parts about it is that it is every single day for a defined period of time (usually three weeks). I have gotten tired of scheduling my life around my treatment and hate the thought of three weeks of radiation appointments. Robbie reminds me that three weeks is hardly a blink when we’re looking at a potential lifetime cure. I totally get that. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. So many types of cancers can’t be cured, and so many other people would love to go to radiation “just in case”. I am very lucky.
So I will take a deep breath and feel gratitude for modern medicine and all that it has done. And I will not ask where the Dom Perignon is if he suggests that I do a three week course.
Let’s start with what is easy to define. Physically I’m feeling good. I traveled to Nashville last week and had a good trip filled with great meetings and a visit to my first honky tonk! The only problem I had regarding treks through the airport and Nashville was that my brand new Mary Janes rubbed a bit and I got a blister! It was a much different experience from my last trip through an airport in November when I was first diagnosed. I remember not being able to breathe that trip and stopping half a dozen times to catch my breath from the parking lot to the gate.
After traveling for most of last week and a busy day of shopping on Saturday, I do have to admit that by Sunday I was feeling a bit of fatigue. I slept until almost 10 AM, which is rare for me. I’m feeling good today though, so the extra sleep and downtime definitely helped.
Tomorrow is my radiation consultation. I am not going to be angry if I have to do radiation. I know that the cancer is currently gone, and I know how happy that makes me. If radiation helps to ensure that it stays gone, then I can accept that course of action. I am a little annoyed, but my annoyance comes mainly from the fact that I thought I wouldn’t have to do radiation.
I had asked the oncologist a few weeks ago what we would do if the PET scan was clear and his exact response was “We’ll celebrate.” I hate to nitpick, but radiation does not exactly sound like a celebration. Unless they give out champagne and strawberries and play Kool and the Gang while you’re being treated…
Radiation, from my understanding, is not as bad as going through chemotherapy. One of the worse parts about it is that it is every single day for a defined period of time (usually three weeks). I have gotten tired of scheduling my life around my treatment and hate the thought of three weeks of radiation appointments. Robbie reminds me that three weeks is hardly a blink when we’re looking at a potential lifetime cure. I totally get that. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. So many types of cancers can’t be cured, and so many other people would love to go to radiation “just in case”. I am very lucky.
So I will take a deep breath and feel gratitude for modern medicine and all that it has done. And I will not ask where the Dom Perignon is if he suggests that I do a three week course.
Monday, April 11, 2011
But Wait, There's More...
I must take a moment and rave about the iPad. I am at the airport typing this entry. Never has the Internet been so quick and easy to access.
Let's start with the good news. I don't have to get blood drawn or see the oncologist until July! It had become the place where everyone knows my name and I found that to be a bit disconcerting. Just prior to that visit, they will also schedule another PET Scan.
They couldn't possible just let me have one day with all good news though. Even though the PET showed no traces of Lymphoma, he would still like me to talk to the radiation folks. He said that with my type of Lymphoma and the fact that it had started to spread into my chest that they may still recommend radiation in order to ensure that recurrence is prevented.
My heart sank when he told me this. I was almost certain I was done. It is still possible that the radiologist will give me an all clear, but there is also a chance that he won't. I am prepared to do whatever I need to do, but that would totally suck. My appointment is next week, so at least I have a little reprieve from all things cancer.
I do understand that this year is a critical one. The most probable time for recurrence is this year. And if it comes back it becomes harder to treat. And multiple course of chemotherapy are rough on your body.
For now, I am going to enjoy the week. I am looking forward to a few days in Nashville. It will be a good distraction.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, April 10, 2011
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!
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!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Welcome Home, Mom!
This week marks the end of two very important projects that have taken me the better part of the last six months to accomplish: Kicking cancer and moving my Mom to North Carolina. Not too shabby if I say so myself!
Never have I felt so exhausted, but in a wonderful way. This weekend was a whirlwind. Friday night after work we drove up to West Virginia for my Mom’s big move. West Virginia must not have been happy to be losing a resident because it sure gave us some nasty weather while we were loading the moving truck on Saturday morning. Cold rain and sleet made for a lot of mud and nastiness. I did take it easy during the move given that I had just had my last chemo about nine days ago, and I knew I still had to drive six hours after we got the truck packed.
We had the moving truck loaded by noon and our three car caravan headed to NC. My Mom drove her car, Robbie the moving truck, and I drove our SUV loaded with four cats. I admit I was a bit concerned about how her cats were going to handle the move. But they were troopers and stayed pretty quiet for the six-hour ride.
This morning I woke up very achy – I think mainly from the two days spent in the car. Something about chemo makes your body ache in general. Throw in something that would regularly make you ache a little, and it becomes magnified. Today we unloaded the truck with the help of two friends. (BIG THANKS to Alan and Scott). There is still much for my Mom to do, but for her I think it’s the fun part. It will be fun to see her house become her home over the next few months.
We are now home doing the Sunday night routine – laundry, trash, etc. It is good to be home relaxing a little with the beagles. I have found that I am sometimes child-like when I am fatigued in that I act out and become a bit of a brat. I am willful and I don’t like to admit that I’m tired. In fact sometimes I don’t even recognize that my fatigue is what is making me a bit of a pill to be around. Robbie luckily has learned to recognize this over the last few months, and is patient with me.
The next few weeks bring a long-awaited return to normalcy. It will be weird not having these “projects” hanging over my head. My cancer surviving friends have warned me that the post-chemo fatigue doesn’t go away immediately and that I should be patient. The side-effects of this final chemo have been easier to handle and I think it has everything to do with the recent good news and the many distractions.
I feel so behind in many areas of my life – tons to do at work, the house is a disaster, yard work needs done, my basement looks like a bomb exploded… I could go on and on. But when I feel overwhelmed by it all, I can look down at the scar tissue in my hand or glance in the mirror at my ostrich hair and remember that a messy life is a GREAT life.
Never have I felt so exhausted, but in a wonderful way. This weekend was a whirlwind. Friday night after work we drove up to West Virginia for my Mom’s big move. West Virginia must not have been happy to be losing a resident because it sure gave us some nasty weather while we were loading the moving truck on Saturday morning. Cold rain and sleet made for a lot of mud and nastiness. I did take it easy during the move given that I had just had my last chemo about nine days ago, and I knew I still had to drive six hours after we got the truck packed.
We had the moving truck loaded by noon and our three car caravan headed to NC. My Mom drove her car, Robbie the moving truck, and I drove our SUV loaded with four cats. I admit I was a bit concerned about how her cats were going to handle the move. But they were troopers and stayed pretty quiet for the six-hour ride.
This morning I woke up very achy – I think mainly from the two days spent in the car. Something about chemo makes your body ache in general. Throw in something that would regularly make you ache a little, and it becomes magnified. Today we unloaded the truck with the help of two friends. (BIG THANKS to Alan and Scott). There is still much for my Mom to do, but for her I think it’s the fun part. It will be fun to see her house become her home over the next few months.
We are now home doing the Sunday night routine – laundry, trash, etc. It is good to be home relaxing a little with the beagles. I have found that I am sometimes child-like when I am fatigued in that I act out and become a bit of a brat. I am willful and I don’t like to admit that I’m tired. In fact sometimes I don’t even recognize that my fatigue is what is making me a bit of a pill to be around. Robbie luckily has learned to recognize this over the last few months, and is patient with me.
The next few weeks bring a long-awaited return to normalcy. It will be weird not having these “projects” hanging over my head. My cancer surviving friends have warned me that the post-chemo fatigue doesn’t go away immediately and that I should be patient. The side-effects of this final chemo have been easier to handle and I think it has everything to do with the recent good news and the many distractions.
I feel so behind in many areas of my life – tons to do at work, the house is a disaster, yard work needs done, my basement looks like a bomb exploded… I could go on and on. But when I feel overwhelmed by it all, I can look down at the scar tissue in my hand or glance in the mirror at my ostrich hair and remember that a messy life is a GREAT life.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
This House is Clean
I don’t even know how to start this post. I have so much to say, yet when I try to find the words I want to say I am at a loss. Right now it’s less about words, and more about pure emotion.
I should start with the good news. My PET Scan showed no signs of cancer. The chemotherapy has done its job well. At the moment I heard the news I literally felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I’ve used that phrase for years, but this is the first time I physically felt it. At one point today I pictured the psychic from Poltergeist (Tangina) saying in her little pursed-mouth manner “This house is clean.” I felt like I’ve battled evil spirits to get Carol Anne back and my house is clean! And for now, I’m staying away from the damn light!
What’s next? For the next three weeks I still have to have my post-chemotherapy bloodwork. They still need to monitor to ensure I don’t get an infection after my last chemo. On April 11th I will meet with my oncologist to talk maintenance. They have great biological therapies now to help prevent recurrence. This will most likely require that I go into the oncology center for an occasionally infusion (IV) of Rituxan. This is not chemotherapy, and will not pack the side effects. It literally targets any lymphoma cells and beats them into submission. Getting through the first year is critical and my chances of long-term success increase with each passing year. I will also have regular PET scans. Robbie and I will also be making lifestyle changes to help ensure a long cancer free life. But I’m going to worry about the future tomorrow.
Tonight we are drinking champagne and celebrating my new lease on life. Thank you so much to all of you that have been so supportive. Every positive word was heard and appreciated more than you know even if I didn’t always respond – I will blame my chemo-induced fog.
Several people have asked if I will continue to blog. The answer is yes. I’m not done with “battle lymphoma” yet. I still need to get through this last chemotherapy, deal with the emotions of this experience, whine about my eyebrows, and figure out how this maintenance thing works. But right now, I’ve got to go. My champagne has sat for far too long.
I should start with the good news. My PET Scan showed no signs of cancer. The chemotherapy has done its job well. At the moment I heard the news I literally felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I’ve used that phrase for years, but this is the first time I physically felt it. At one point today I pictured the psychic from Poltergeist (Tangina) saying in her little pursed-mouth manner “This house is clean.” I felt like I’ve battled evil spirits to get Carol Anne back and my house is clean! And for now, I’m staying away from the damn light!
What’s next? For the next three weeks I still have to have my post-chemotherapy bloodwork. They still need to monitor to ensure I don’t get an infection after my last chemo. On April 11th I will meet with my oncologist to talk maintenance. They have great biological therapies now to help prevent recurrence. This will most likely require that I go into the oncology center for an occasionally infusion (IV) of Rituxan. This is not chemotherapy, and will not pack the side effects. It literally targets any lymphoma cells and beats them into submission. Getting through the first year is critical and my chances of long-term success increase with each passing year. I will also have regular PET scans. Robbie and I will also be making lifestyle changes to help ensure a long cancer free life. But I’m going to worry about the future tomorrow.
Tonight we are drinking champagne and celebrating my new lease on life. Thank you so much to all of you that have been so supportive. Every positive word was heard and appreciated more than you know even if I didn’t always respond – I will blame my chemo-induced fog.
Several people have asked if I will continue to blog. The answer is yes. I’m not done with “battle lymphoma” yet. I still need to get through this last chemotherapy, deal with the emotions of this experience, whine about my eyebrows, and figure out how this maintenance thing works. But right now, I’ve got to go. My champagne has sat for far too long.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Rachael Ray at 9 AM
This morning I had blood work scheduled at the oncology center followed by a PET Scan. Normally I do my blood work on Thursday, but the scheduling assistant thought she would be helpful and schedule my two appointments back-to-back. I have some sort of big note in my oncology file about my schedule and taking first/last appointments, combining, etc. in order to minimize my time away from work.
My first appointment was at 9 AM and I showed up about 10 minutes early to ensure that I could get to the PET Scan by 10 AM. I found a spot near the TV since I knew Rachael Ray was about to start. I am saddened by the fact that I’ve had so many appointments at the oncology center that I know the television schedule. I was also rocking a sweat suit and a winter hat since you are supposed to dress comfortably and without metal clasps/buttons for the PET Scan. Red chipmunk cheeks, sweat suit, hat, and almost no brows – I was looking mighty fine today.
Around 9:40 or so I still hadn’t been called to back and went up to the desk to let them know that I needed to go for my PET Scan and that if they didn’t get me back to the hematologist pronto I was going to need to reschedule. She said they were starting to call back the 9 o’clock appointments and to just wait and I should be called soon. In the meantime, some ridiculously cheerful woman in an apron starts walking around to give out free smoothies for colon-rectal cancer awareness month. Let me just say, and this could be the prednisone talking, that every person in that waiting room is acutely aware of cancer and we really don’t need a lesson in awareness. But that being said, a free smoothie is always nice. Except of course, if you’ve been fasting since the night before because you have a PET scan in 15 minutes and can’t partake in a smoothie. Then a free smoothie is not so nice.
I finally went back to the desk at a few minutes before 10 to let the receptionist know I’d just call and reschedule the blood work. And then she informs me to go down to the other desk because she’s in the middle of something and can’t reschedule me right now. I informed her that there was a line at the other desk and that I’M LEAVING. She desperately told me to come back at 4:30. I say fine and head down the street to the scan center.
I love the PET Scan center. It’s a small office with one PET/CT scanning machine. This is my third scan now, so I know all the people and the drill. After the drama at the oncology center, I enjoyed the hour of mandatory quiet time. I spent a good portion of it watching a very clever squirrel break into the feeder they have outside the window. I tried very hard not to think about the importance of this scan. After the scan, the technician gave me two thumbs up. I want to read so much into his “two thumbs up”. It was probably just a “you’re done, we got what we needed” signal. But that is the first time he’s done that, so I’m hopeful that he was foreshadowing good results.
I only sobbed once today, and I don’t really remember why. I think I was just happy that Robbie was home so I could share my drama filled day. He has become accustomed to my “prednisone Mondays” and comes home ready to empathize. I think he is hoping as much as I am that this is my last prednisone Monday.
My first appointment was at 9 AM and I showed up about 10 minutes early to ensure that I could get to the PET Scan by 10 AM. I found a spot near the TV since I knew Rachael Ray was about to start. I am saddened by the fact that I’ve had so many appointments at the oncology center that I know the television schedule. I was also rocking a sweat suit and a winter hat since you are supposed to dress comfortably and without metal clasps/buttons for the PET Scan. Red chipmunk cheeks, sweat suit, hat, and almost no brows – I was looking mighty fine today.
Around 9:40 or so I still hadn’t been called to back and went up to the desk to let them know that I needed to go for my PET Scan and that if they didn’t get me back to the hematologist pronto I was going to need to reschedule. She said they were starting to call back the 9 o’clock appointments and to just wait and I should be called soon. In the meantime, some ridiculously cheerful woman in an apron starts walking around to give out free smoothies for colon-rectal cancer awareness month. Let me just say, and this could be the prednisone talking, that every person in that waiting room is acutely aware of cancer and we really don’t need a lesson in awareness. But that being said, a free smoothie is always nice. Except of course, if you’ve been fasting since the night before because you have a PET scan in 15 minutes and can’t partake in a smoothie. Then a free smoothie is not so nice.
I finally went back to the desk at a few minutes before 10 to let the receptionist know I’d just call and reschedule the blood work. And then she informs me to go down to the other desk because she’s in the middle of something and can’t reschedule me right now. I informed her that there was a line at the other desk and that I’M LEAVING. She desperately told me to come back at 4:30. I say fine and head down the street to the scan center.
I love the PET Scan center. It’s a small office with one PET/CT scanning machine. This is my third scan now, so I know all the people and the drill. After the drama at the oncology center, I enjoyed the hour of mandatory quiet time. I spent a good portion of it watching a very clever squirrel break into the feeder they have outside the window. I tried very hard not to think about the importance of this scan. After the scan, the technician gave me two thumbs up. I want to read so much into his “two thumbs up”. It was probably just a “you’re done, we got what we needed” signal. But that is the first time he’s done that, so I’m hopeful that he was foreshadowing good results.
I only sobbed once today, and I don’t really remember why. I think I was just happy that Robbie was home so I could share my drama filled day. He has become accustomed to my “prednisone Mondays” and comes home ready to empathize. I think he is hoping as much as I am that this is my last prednisone Monday.
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