Boy, I can’t believe it’s been
over 6 weeks since I’ve written anything.
It has been an interesting 6 weeks though. I’ll try to do a brief summary to bring you
up to speed. I know you’re all waiting
with baited breath (HA!)
Well, on May 28th I
had what was to have been my final of the 6 chemo treatments in this
cycle. At least I hoped it would be my
last. I should have known better – my CA125
numbers weren’t that great, but they were coming down, and I was so sick of the
treatments. The side effects were piling
up and lasting longer than before. I was
feeling like a big wimp (so much for the rising Phoenix!). The Taxol part of the treatment went well,
but, when the Carboplatin was hung things changed rapidly. I began having a reaction – blurry vision,
itchy hands and ears, dizziness, shortness of breath. I sat there assessing my symptoms but before
I could finish I had 6 nurses, a nurse practitioner, and a crash cart at my side. The drug was stopped and, after a barrage of
injections and other medications, I was placed on a constant monitoring status
- sort of a “house arrest” but in a chemo room.
My poor husband was beside me through it all. He told me later that he looked over and saw
me slumped in the chair, looking very gray and distant. I thought I was assessing my symptoms – I think
I was actually passing out!
Okay, so much for the Carboplatin
part of my treatment. The drug does have
a reputation of building up and biting back somewhere around treatment 5 or
6. It is now on my growing list of
allergies.
So, we were now in a situation
where that chemo cycle was technically over, but my CA125 was still near
100. Time for another PET scan. The scan results showed pretty much the same
active spots as 6 months before – but at least no spread. Strange how your perspective changes over
time. A few years ago I would have been
devastated – now I’m thrilled that it hasn’t spread! I guess that’s what the saying means about “learning
to dance in the rain.”
After an exam and an in depth
conversation with my Guardian Angel (Dr. M.) it was decided to continue the
Taxol alone for a few treatments and see what the CA125 does. I told him that the 7-10 days following the
last treatment, I had had much less in the way of side effects than usual. I’m guessing that the Carboplatin was causing
most of the very unpleasant ones. He
agreed that Taxol could stand alone as a treatment and it may work well – only time
will tell. But I needed a break – and,
before I could mention it, he suggested some time off.
The next day my son and his
family were arriving from New York and my daughter and granddaughter were
coming out to the beach too. It was a
long planned mini family reunion. We had
been looking forward to it for so long.
I thought we would be celebrating the beginning of a new remission
period – but, instead we just celebrated being together. That was the most important part anyway. Having a 3 year old, a 5 year old, a 12 year
old, and 5 adults who are rarely in the same state, let alone the same room was
mind-blowing for me. We had blow-up
mattresses on the floor, a huge cavern being dug in the sand – complete with
sand couches and a sand coffee table – races in the pool, a dining room table filled
with food and surrounded by people and 5 conversations at once! We saw ghost crabs, and hundreds of pelicans,
cardinals and sea turtle mounds – kite surfers, pontoon helicopters, and
bi-planes towing huge signs and I got to read the little ones bedtime stories. It was the very best of times, but the
goodbyes were among the very worst. I
had realized during this visit that I was no longer able to do what I used to
do only a year ago, during our last visit.
The drugs are taking their toll, but they make me appreciate everything
and everyone so much more. We’re
planning a trip up north in the fall to see them and, hopefully, another
special reunion early next year for our 40th anniversary. I may not be able to do EVERYTHING but I can
do the important things – kisses and hugs and reading stories are high on my
list!
So I’m into my last week of
R&R before the chemo starts again. Next
Tuesday begins... I’m actually not sure what
it begins. Should I be calling this TX#7
of ??? or TX#1 of a new unknown
protocol. I think I like that better. Stay tuned and please keep up the
prayers. I know without a doubt that
your prayers are what’s kept me going this far.
In August it will be 5 years since my original surgery and the beginning
of my first chemo. I just heard of a
woman in Naples who is celebrating her 10th anniversary of her
surgery. I now have a new goal – to beat
her. Have I told you how competitive I
am???
Thank you to my enormous and very
special support system – my amazing, patient husband; my remarkable, involved
children; my very special and so loving grandchildren; my steadfast family and
friends - all of whom make me feel loved.
Last, but most assuredly NOT least, the best medical team anyone could ever
wish for. You make me feel safe!
Hopefully, your visit on Thursday will work like ten treatments of the best stuff. You're in my thoughts daily. As the Japanese are fond of saying, "Ganbatte!" (Hang in there!)
ReplyDeleteReading about the joy of your reunion with family, "appreciating everything and everyone so much more," reminded me of a chapter title from my memoir about my daughter's illness. The Value of Illness chapter addresses just what you wrote about, illness making you so much more aware of what is taking place around you, the attention to things large and small and making sure to witness and enjoy them. You'll beat that woman's record by years and someone will stumble across your blog and read and will say, "If she's still doing so well, I can beat HER record."
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