No worries

I had a hot flash last night.

They've been happening here and there, but this was a bad one, and it happened while Sam was sitting on my lap listening to a bedtime story. I wanted to dump him on the floor and throw open a window, but I toughed it out.

I made a joke about the hot flashes to a radiology technician last week. He said, "Yeah, that's called...uh...[snapping fingers]...premature ovarian failure. It happens when you get chemo." He was so proud of himself. Good for you, I thought, and how kind of you give it a name. Noticing the look on my face, he said, "They come back though. Don't worry."

Yeah, okay. Right.

This morning, Sam was running around in his superhero cape. "I'm BATMAN!" he exclaimed, punching both fists in the air and blasting off for a flight around the kitchen island. (Batman doesn't fly, I thought. But we can have that conversation later. Already, my son is extending our nerd legacy. He knows more about the comic 'verse than just about any two year old ever).

Later, I was unwrapping the Go, Diego Go DVD that I got him for Valentine's Day. "Dora is on it too!" he said.

"Yeah, do you know how Dora and Diego know each other?" I asked.

Blank stare.

"Are they family?"

I wasn't getting anywhere with this.

"They're cousins," I said.

"Yeah!" he replied. "They're cousins!"

"Do you know who your cousins are?"

I'm always asking him if he knows how people are related to him. Who are your brothers? (Danny Maxie!) Who is mommy's sister? (K!) Who loves you? (Mommy Daddy Danny Maxie K Chrissy Grammy Poppy...) But cousins is a new concept.

"Susie is your cousin," I said. "And Matthew and Jacob are your cousins." There are more kids around. Most are much older, but I want him to grow up knowing who they are: Mike, Jared, Jimmy, Kelsey, Kendall, Bruce, Emily, Conrad, Everette, Ashton - a vast network of Bevanses and Marsiglias and Suhres and Seligs, many of whom (at least in the younger generations) are completely unaware of one another. And that's our fault.

We live in a big tree, but maybe my branch ends here, with a wicked smart, beautiful little boy in a Batman cape, flying around the kitchen island.

Well, here I am.

Been checked out for a while. I guess it's just been more of the same, more of the same.

We had a lovely Thanksgiving at my sister's house with both sides of the family. The kids hung out and played. The food was fantastic, and so was the company.

I'm through my last chemo treatment now. Got the drip on Friday, so things are hell at the moment. I got lots of rest over the weekend, which seemed to help, and Dave stayed home to help for a couple of days, but it's one step forward, two steps back, as usual. It was really, really hard to get Sam off to school this morning. Sometimes it's all I can do to be as patient as I want to be with him.

The last time I saw my oncologist, he surprised me by saying, "This is the last time I'll see you until after surgery!" That was a pretty exciting moment - to know that I was really nearly through this chemo crap and that I could move on to the next thing. Later on, I told Jenn (my chemo nurse), "You know, when you're in the middle of something like this, you never really allow yourself to think about what life is going to be like when it's over. But now I'm starting to think about that."

Well, I'm revising a little bit, because what was previously just the big blotch known as MASTECTOMY is starting to become a little more defined around the edges, and frankly it's kind of scary. Now that I'm done with chemo, things are coming into focus and I'm finding there's a whole new set of things to be anxious about.

Nothing to do for now. I'm having a mammogram and ultrasound on January 7, then my surgery consult on January 14. Probably the surgeon will say, "Let's go on Monday!" or something crazy like that, because obviously I don't have anything to get organized before major surgery. I'll just have to try to be flexible and go with the flow.

I'm getting a lot of practice at that lately.

WBCs, and the light at the end of the tunnel

I'm down to my last two big treatments, and I'm starting to see the light at the end of the chemo tunnel. Nevermind surgery and radiation - I'll leave that fun stuff for 2010!

The routine has been this: show up at Kaiser for blood work on Thursday, then return on Friday for my infusion. I get the big chemo treatments every three weeks, with just Herceptin on the off-weeks.

So far, I've felt surprisingly good once the immediate effects of the chemo have worn off. That usually takes about a week. Then I'm kind of back to my old self for two weeks. So all in all, it hasn't been that bad.

Fortunately, my blood work has been normal to this point. Chemo reprograms all fast-growing cells and is particularly unkind to blood cells, so people on chemo are generally prone to anemia (red blood cell deficiency), infection (unimpeded due to white blood cell deficiency) and clotting problems (caused by platelet deficiency). I've been taking a medicine called Neupogen which encourages my body to make white blood cells. Unfortunately it's taken by injection, so I have to poke myself in the belly every day for 7 days after my treatment.

(I'm not new to poking myself in the belly, but at least last time I got a baby for my trouble).

Anyhoo, my white blood cells are officially off the reservation. Yesterday's white blood cell count was below normal and the neutrophils, which are baby white blood cells, are wiped out. Today, my chemo nurse told me that they almost couldn't treat me with Herceptin today, which would have sucked hard because I'm determined to be DONE with chemo by Christmas and am not interested in any delays.

Bonus: Sam has a wicked cold right now. Please, please, please don't let me catch his cold!

So, now we're upgrading to 10 days of sado-masochistic belly sticking after the next cycle. Just so you know, I do this at about 6 am, so feel free to call me and keep me company. I start next Saturday.

Okay...

Okay! Seems like things are going along swimmingly at the moment!

Kath and Chris took Sam yesterday for a 24-hour chemo-weekend respite as usual. (You girls rock!) Instead of lying on the couch the whole time, I actually spent some quality time with the hubs. That's rare because we hardly ever ask anyone to watch him, so we usually have to take an afternoon off from work to hang out together, except for the 30 minutes between when we put Sam to bed and when I pass out in the evenings. This reminded me that I need to look for a teenager to babysit at home, maybe after the boy turns 3.

Dave and I went and shot some pool (no beer for me :( ), then grabbed some dinner, then went for ice cream. I was surprised I was eating so much, but I decided to just go for whatever I wanted instead of trying to restrict myself too much.

This morning I got a lot of planning done, and now Kath and Sam are due back any minute. I missed him. I don't know if I'm ready to run a 5K or anything, but I think I can hold my own this afternoon. Yippee!

Cycle 4

Wow! I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted to this blog!

Started cycle 4 today. I can't believe I'm almost 2/3 done with chemo. It's possible I'm still in just the very early post-chemo, pre-sick phase of cycle four, but (knock on wood) I feel pretty good right now. I don't remember feeling this good last time the night of chemo, but I don't want to jinx it.

I had a wonderful dinner last night with my sister, my mom, two of my cousins, and an aunt. It was so much fun to hang out with everyone. We were laughing so hard, I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out of the joint. Victoria's Gastro Pub in Columbia? Definitely worth a visit.

I have been anxious to find out if I'll qualify for genetic counseling to determine if I have one of the breast cancer genes, which are also markers for ovarian cancer. Since women with the gene who get cancer in 1 breast are 70% likely to get cancer in the other breast at some point (per one of my surgeons), I think it's worth exploring to determine if I should have both breasts removed next year when I'll be having a mastectomy.

My oncologist's first reaction was that my insurance might not pay for it because I have no family history. That's pretty disappointing, but he did get me a consult with the genetic counselors, so I'm trying to schedule that now. At first I thought that meant that I would be able to get the test, but now I'm thinking it means I get to have an appointment with the person who will decide if I get the test. So my hopes are dashed somewhat.

Dave isn't in favor of the test. He's been reading about false negatives and stuff. But I don't want to go through this again. Not to mention, ovarian cancer is very insidious. It jumps to stage four with few symptoms, which makes removal of the ovaries (if I have the gene) a pretty logical option (with a bit of a delay, if we decide to have another baby).

I'm not trying to freak out about this or anything. There's time. I'm just saying it'd be good to have the facts. Not to mention my sister's pretty interested in the results, and I can't say I blame her.

I did find out last night (in between bouts of tea coming out of my nose from laughing so hard) that another aunt, who passed away a few years ago, had breast cancer. She didn't die of it, but she had it, so I figure that helps my chances.

I should say that I don't really have too many horror stories about my insurance. I realize lots of people do, but Kaiser's been pretty good to us so far. It's been a hellish ride, but that's just the nature of it, I think. They allowed pretty much every test I could have. So I'm hopeful this one will happen too. If it doesn't, then it doesn't and we'll just have to stay on top of it, I guess.

Anyway, finger's crossed that I feel this good tomorrow and Sunday, people.

Feeling like updating

So I'm feeling like updating, but I don't really have anything too uplifting to say.

Today, Sam had a field trip to Baugher's Orchard. He brought back a little pumpkin and couple of apples. Apparently there was a little hay ride as well. Would have been a fun trip to take, but I just didn't have it in me. He was such a buster this morning. He crossed his arms and announced he didn't want to go to school. ever. again.

Dave was home this morning to meet our home builder and do the final walk through, which basically threw Sam off his game and caused the tantrum. I get that. But my chemo-addled brain isn't exactly with the program, so I was kind of annoyed by it all this morning.

I tried really hard to have an intelligent conversation with my sister about work stuff this morning, but I had to give up on working by about 10 am. There was just no way to make my brain conform. And as we know, no work equals no moolah. And that sucks.

Also, my designer's girlfriend is about to have a baby any minute, which isn't really helping my stress levels.

Oh well.

Day 3

Day 3 is probably the hardest and most depressing day of the whole cycle. And, for those of you who are counting, today is day 3.

Yesterday, Dave's allergies got really bad, which sucked because I was kind of counting on him to keep Sam busy all day, and it turned out he was on Benadryl, so I just toughed it out. Kath came to get Sam a little after 4, and he was ready to go with her, but apparently started crying for mommy in the car a little while later. I feel bad when he does that. I know he'll get over it, but still it's scary for Auntie. And then, of course, I missed him all night, especially when I put one of his books in his room right before my bedtime and he wasn't there.

I kept myself busy by reorganizing my office, which I guess means I have some energy, but I have to say it's the kind of nervous energy you get when you don't know what the hell's going on or what's going to happen next, or if you should take that medicine now or wait an hour. I'm thirsty, but I don't know if water will make me nauseated. I'm bored, but I'm afraid of Quizno's commercials. I feel okay, but I just never know when that's going to change.

Overall, I'm doing much, much better than last time. I have acupuncture tomorrow, which will be a plus. Everything's going pretty much okay, except that I still have cancer.