Keep Pushing Forward!

I believe you when you say it's chemo

but it looks an awful lot like Kool-Aid to me. 

Oh yeah!

 

 

 

CT Scan Update:  The scan showed an interesting mix of progress in some spots, a little decline in others, while thankfully nothing new popped up.  I'll just say I'm grateful to see improvement and even more grateful to push forward with "bigger guns". 

This week I was introduced to my new chemo drug, Doxil.  Please indulge me as I attempt to get the following song stuck in your head.  It's been lingering in mine for a week:

I hadn't thought of Huey Lewis and the News since 1985

 

 

My doctor recently explained, and I hope I'm not butchering her valuable information because she's an experienced oncologist and respected cancer researcher and I check off the "some college or technical school" box on surveys (and I'm partial to run on sentences), that tumors have their own DNA (what the what?!).  Yes!  Their own DNA - apart from mine - and sometimes cancer cells can mutate.  There could be a more targeted cancer treatment that would be better suited for my individual tumors.  She blew my mind!  Here's an article:

• Cancer Genomics: New Technologies Speed Discovery and Expand Opportunities for Personalized Medicine

So my pathology will be studied in an effort to get to the bottom of these pesky, uncooperative tumors.  I have to tell you, I may not understand the complexities of it, but I am excited about the prospect of this technology for cancer patients overall.  God, I ask for a special blessing on the lives of these brilliant people!

The "New" Drug

 

Change is such an interesting beast.  I've had the same Taxol and Carboplatin routine for 14 weeks.  I know when certain side effects would hit me hardest and when I would be ok to go out for dinner.  I also liked having to show up weekly for chemo - It just  made me feel like I'm actively in the fight, doing something each week. Doxil is administered every 28 days.  It's also a different drug which means new side effects.  As much as change is an adjustment, I have to roll with it.  We got our money's worth from my previous 2 drugs and it's time to move on.  I had my first dose last week and it's funny -  it's kind of nice not having to think about getting to chemo this week. 

My Doc and chemo nurses reviewed the drug, what to expect during treatment and how to stay on top of possible side effects.  Here goes:   

• Fatigue was discussed.   Now that it's been in my system for almost a week, I can say with a high degree of certainty the evil Queen spiked Snow White's apple with Doxil. It's the type of fatigue where you take a nap on Monday at 3pm and wake up Thursday at noon.
• The color of the drug itself can, but didn't, turn my tears and urine pink.  I was tempted to drink a big gulp (in your face Bloomberg) and watch the last 20 minutes of "Terms of Endearment" to test it out on my way home (please note, I do NOT endorse the consumption of sugary beverages, however, Mayor Nanny's out of control.  To quote Edina Monsoon, "...we're all not stupid. We don't all need nurse maiding").  I was disappointed to see my run of the mill clear tears, I admit.
• Unless a patient experienced an allergic reaction to the initial treatment, IV Benadryl is no longer a necessary chemo pre-med for this drug.  Did I tell you I had a virgin Pina Colada on Sunday?  Yeah, I got dressed up, put on makeup and had a coconut shake with a cherry garnish at a nice restaurant while my girlfriends enjoyed big girl sangria.  Now, I'm not a drinker, but I do enjoy an occasional glass of pinot noir with dinner or a nice port during desert.  Not on chemo can alcohol happen.  IV Benadryl was the closest I came to a glass of wine.  I should be happy I didn't have a reaction.  Of course I am happy I didn't have a reaction.  I'll just go back to sniffing other people's wine glasses like a dog.  At least desert is still very much an option
• Mouth sores.  Possible nausea/vomiting. Major palm of hand and sole of feet irritation all possible.  Bag Balm was recommended for immediate and daily use for the hands and feet and Biotene to help prevent mouth sores.  We picked it up within a few hours of treatment and I started using the products daily that night.  Any good cancer patient knows - if your doctor and/or chemo nurse makes a recommendation, you take it with gusto.

Food tastes shifted again this week.  Chicken is out completely and it saddens me to note Pastina hasn't been on the radar in weeks.  Dad's baked ziti on the other hand seems to be doing just fine in my belly, as are greens, string beans, fish and surprisingly, steak. 

CT Scan Cocktail Party

March 7, 2013
My Raspberry flavored contrast "beverage"
I was denied a side of chips and salsa

The last time I had a CT Scan and was required to chug me down some tasty Gastrografin was in December. Thursday was time for a follow up scan. 

This less than luscious contrast beverage is offered in a water base flavor (not recommended) or raspberry and laundry detergent flavor.  As much as I didn't look forward to the cocktail, it's not a big deal and isn't as terrible as other medical beverages I've downed.  A number of years ago I was prescribed a jug of the unbelievably vile cherry flavored GoLYTELY for colonoscopy prep.  I vomited most of it on my parents' den rug.  There isn't enough money in the world to make me ingest that horrific liquid again (I'm a far more sophisticated colonoscopy prepper now).  Comparatively speaking, Gastrografin is a piece of cake.

The CT Scan itself is a physically easy test.  All I have to do is lay still on a movable stretcher while a large donut takes images of my insides.   Emotionally however, I can easily become a wreck if I don't keep a constant watch on defeating, hope draining thoughts.  This CT scan is important.  Irrational, unfounded concerns can cause my mind to quickly spiral out of control, opening the gates to the devil's Depressionland playground.  Not a fun place.

Cancer's reminded me that evil doesn't take a break or call a time-out when a child of God is down.  Some days involve moments of emotional battle that can be simply exhausting, but ultimately victorious.  The only way I can survive is through prayer and scripture. 

I've learned to have very candid conversations with God (prayer), where I share it all - good and bad, with or without tears.   When I ask for help I usually ask for the kind of strength, wisdom and peace only He can give to help me stand on my situation.  Time and time again He's answered that prayer and each time oppression is replaced with renewed energy and joy.  I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, but I know God's with me whatever tomorrow brings.

Scripture reaffirms God's compassion, love and hope and I'll read it and recite it out loud.  When Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days and the devil tried to tempt Him, Jesus called out the devil's lies by speaking scripture to his face (Matthew 4:1-11).  I had a moment at some point early on in treatment where the thought "God's forsaken Amy" swirled in my head.  As I considered starting my pity party, I thought about those 3 words - God's forsaken Amy.  Wait a second - That's a lie!  God said He would NEVER leave us or forsake us.  In fact, say it loud, say it proud, His words in Deuteronomy 31:6 were "be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."   Suddenly I had clarity and peace.  I had strength and felt fearless.  I had the urge, if I knew how to hunt demons and flush them down the toilet, to hunt that evil spirit, grab it by the back of the neck and flush it down the toilet.  And kick it's butt.  I would have kicked it a few times in the butt.


 Ephesians 6:10 - 17 - Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Throwing Your Retainer in the Lunchroom Trash

Who let Uncle Fester in this house?! 

 

Oh, it's me.  Without makeup.  Or hair.

 

I might be ready to revisit a wig.  Thank God for eyebrows.

_____________________________________________________

Stop me if I told you this already.  My primary weekly chemo drug is Taxol. Every 4th treatment week I get an added bonus boost of another chemo drug, Carboplatin.  I call that "T&C Week". While Taxol is sucking the life from my joints, took most of my hair and makes me sleepy, it fortunately doesn't make me nauseas.  Oh, but Carboplatin. 

Carboplatin's most common side effects are "nausea, vomiting, unusual tiredness or weakness".  "Unusual" is an interesting word.  If by "unusual" they mean "a 5 day nap on the mattress of your choice" consider that definition nailed.

As one could well imagine, T&C Week isn't my favorite.  It's the week I experience the greatest emotional, physical and spiritual battles.   It's also the week I'm prescribed $400 in anti-nausea drugs and you better believe I'm using them.   

The in-house pharmacy at Sloan is fantastic - they deliver your take home, post-chemo meds during your treatment in a small paper bag.  I typically open the bag during chemo and review its contents to ensure I have everything I need, saving the receipts in my purse.  You know what else comes in a small paper bag?  Lunch. 

Immediately following treatment, after the nurse unhooks me from the chemo machine, I take a minute or two to sit up and shake off the Benadryl.  Lou and I gather our belongings, make sure our space is as clean as we found it, wish our nurses a great week and make our escape.   

Off to the elevator and down to the main floor we went last week, happy the day's treatment was over and eager to go home.  I had already taken my first dose of the super drug Emend and...where's my Emend?  Hold on a minute - Where's my Emend and where's the Zofran? 

Me:  Lou, do you have my meds?

Lou:  I thought you put them in your purse?

Me:  I didn't put them in my purse.  They were in the paper bag.  Honey, did you throw the bag away?

The look of horror on his face said it all.  His eyes screamed "I can't believe I threw the meds away".

You haven't witnessed efficiency and professionalism in the world of hospital cleanup until you've experienced the environmental team at Sloan.  Faster than you can blink these quiet men and women swoop in on their territory to completely clean and sanitize an area for the next patient's use.  In the time it took us to get on the elevator, travel a few floors, realize our error, exit the elevator and enter another elevator to go back up to the GYN floor, my chemo cubby's trash could be halfway to a landfill; they're just that ninja. 

As quickly as the rush of frustration came over me of having potentially lost $400 worth of covered drugs - the adult equivalent of throwing your retainer in the lunchroom trash - I had to calm down, take a breath and put reality in perspective.

1. God has it under control.  I've had 11th hour pharmacy crisis experiences before and God always made a way.  One way or another, we'll get the meds back.
2. Do I have a right to let loose on my husband?  After all, I'm not 100% when I'm immediately done with chemo and he threw the meds away.  The answer is no!  This cancer crap sucks and like many medical problems, can test the limits of a marriage.  When you have a stellar spouse by your side who wipes your tears and sacrifices sleep so you're never alone, you shut your mouth over the petty stuff. 

Having returned to my treatment floor, we flew back into the chemo area, two determined tornadoes.  Sure enough, my chemo cubby was clean and the trash was missing.

"UM.  WE ACCIDENTALLY THREW AWAY MY MEDS"

I nicely yelled to the nurse's station. 

Immediately two fantastic staff members shot around us and across the floor, through hallways and back corridors, determined to track down our trash and the environmental staffer moving it.  Lou followed as I shuffled slowly behind.  "Lord, I'm sorry we were careless with the medicine.  Please help us find it." The clock was ticking.  One hall after another came up empty.  Within a few minutes, however, the staff found our man, along with his massive rolling trash bin, headed toward the service elevator.  This kind gentleman was more than happy to stop and assist.  I was never so grateful for clear trash bags in my life. He laid bag after bag on the floor until I was able to spot my small paper bag right next to my empty 20 oz hot tea cup and discarded lunch.  As much as we insisted on helping him retrieve our items from the filthy bag, he wouldn't hear of it.  Staff at other hospitals might have rolled their eyes and mumbled to themselves as we inconvenienced their day, but not these folks and not this very sweet guy. 

I'm going to switch gears here for a minute because it's on my heart.  It doesn't matter what title you have at work or what tasks you're required to perform.  Of all the compassionate people, fancy job titles and prestigious positions at Sloan, it was the cheerful, gracious cleaning guy who blessed our day the most last week.  Not because he saved us hundreds of dollars, but because he was so happy, from his heart, to help.

Colossians 3:23-24 - Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.