Herceptin #5 is now officially out of the way.
It was a little surreal being back in the chemo room for this drug.
So far so good.
Only 10 or 12 more to go (still don’t know which protocol I fall under for this one).
Very tired. Had hoped to have more energy by now.
You know, when that fatigue wall hits, it hits hard.
Did I really say energetic in the last post? I’ve done nothing but drag my butt since then.
Oncologist says that’s normal. I don’t WANT to be normal, thank you very much.
Latest visit confirms that my breast is looking better, still peau d’orange around the nipple. But still better than when this journey started. For that I’m hopeful.
Radiation begins Feb 8th.
Surgery consult to be booked.
Tamoxifin won’t be started till after radiation is complete (end March), so likely to get my period back. You know. That’s just WRONG. A woman with cancer shouldn’t have to deal with that on top of everything else.
It’s the classic case of finally figuring out how to get it right and doing so on the absolute last treatment.
My metallic taste wasn’t as strong and though the taste buds are off, I’m well on my way to being past that side effect.
I’m still battling insomnia, but I think that has to do with the tension from work more so than chemo.
My finger nail beds didn’t get as sore. And I still have all my nails. They didn’t get worse!
But the burning ring of fire, it’s been VERY evident.
Other than that, I feel GREAT and energetic.
Boy, do I know how to get a person’s attention, eh?
Today I also went to the Cancer Clinic to have a CT scan and “measurements” for my radiation therapy, which will begin on February 8th.
At the end of the scan, the technologist applies dye to three spots on my body – to help guide the beam each time I go in – and uses a needle to make it permanent.
I just never thought I’d end up with more tattoos DURING treatment.
For the very first time, work was not what it was supposed to be and it collided with my cancer battle.
The only reason I have continued to work through all of this, besides being able to, has been the need to have something to keep my mind occupied so that I don’t fall into a depression and hinder my own fight.
Today, work became more stressful than my cancer. It was just a situation that got blown out of proportion and caused some angst in the process of finding a resolution. [Edited 22 Jan – I’ve deleted the previous explanation because I don’t want people to make assumptions (too late, I know, but it’s not what you thought) and I am not about to reveal the details.]
I toyed with the idea of just beginning full sick leave now as opposed to when I have surgery, but there were good reasons against doing just that. 1) It was knee-jerk. 2) What would I be thinking or doing next week? 3) Wouldn’t that be giving into the situation and possibly feeding someone’s wishes?
So, I cried and then I did what I had to do to ensure no repeat and I went on with my day.
I know what you’re thinking. Trust me, I will take care of me FIRST if work does interfere with my mental and emotional health again.
Granted, having been a Victoria resident for only 6 years, I don’t have a lot of substance behind this statement: I don’t believe that I can recall TWO snowy storms in Victoria in one season.
Yep, we’re back to Winterland here in Victoria. A balmy -1 C and snow on the ground.
Huh. Who would’ve thunk?
As for me, very tired, some side effects making themselves known. But still doing the HAPPY DANCE that I’ve had my last chemo. [I think I’ll be doing that dance for a while yet.]
CELEBRATE with me.
It wasn’t completely without incident. It took 3 needles, again. Some days are not as successful as others.
And I cried. I cried from sheer joy. I couldn’t believe I’d made it through all 8, horrendous treatments.
So celebrate with me, because I believe the worst is over.
It’s too early to tell what lovely side-effects I shall get from this one, but I will share when they happen (likely at week’s end).
I can’t believe the level of anxiety I have going into my F I N A L chemo.
I know that there is excitement because it is the 8th and last one, but there is also anxiety. The 7th round wasn’t my most spectacular, even if I contributed to it a little by being stubborn, and I’m scared that I’ll be sick again.
I guess I can only do what I can (like take care of myself, not push too hard) and CALL Triage if anything starts to go sideways.
Ya, ya, I know. “I told you so.”
Did I ever get holy sh** from my oncologist for not calling the previous two times. He gave me loads of reasons why I should.
I could NEVER disappoint him, so I’ll be damn sure to call at the first sign of a temperature.
I also learned that these symptoms are “common” among patients, but needs to be monitored closely.
My urine sample showed leukocytes, and so a urine culture is being done, but my onc is fairly certain that I have a urinary tract infection.
So I’m on antibiotics.
Oh, and did I tell you we discovered another drug allergy in all of this? The big heartburn medicine they prescribe first is Pariet. I’d been using Zantec until it ran out and then started to use the prescription. I got a rash in my neck and upper chest and my skin was VERY itchy. Yep, scratch that one. [Boo hiss on the bad pun, sorry.]
With my temperature spiking for a third time and my cough worse, I thought I should actually call the Triage line for a change (you know, the thing I’m supposed to do the second something happens, not the third time it happens).
So I was sent to Emergency and they did a full work-up on me (blood and x-rays). My bloodwork was perfect and my x-ray clear. Four hours later I was sent home with the “take a tylenol” and keep your oncologoist appointment.
It may be that this is just how I respond to this chemo – oh joy, oh bliss.
But now Vince can stop worrying as much.