Dr. Peters, my chemo doc, was concerned the amount of chemicals needed for my treatment would make me nauseous if given in one treatment a week so scheduled twice weekly treatments.Not too bad, aside from the Grand Inquisitor.I generally sleep through most of the process, curled up in a comfy Lazy Boy chair and covered with a nice felt blanket.No chit chat for me.It’s sleepy-bye time.
After three treatments Dr. Peters asked how I was handling the treatments.Any nausea?Vomiting?No, I said, actually I’m doing pretty well overall.Candied ginger and ginger tea tend to take care of any queasy feelings I may have and I told him so.He decided at that time to try for once weekly treatments.I was a little nervous about it but once a week for three hours at a time is definitely preferable to twice-weekly treatments three hours at a time.And if it made me sick, well, then we’d know.
Strangely, I felt really good afterwards.Almost energetic.And the next day I felt better than I have in months!Apparently my body loves chemicals.I’m using some of the strongest stuff available for my depressive disorder and large amounts of chemicals at one time for chemo turn me into Super Woman!
I don’t understand.But I don’t care.The fatigue has returned but little naps along the way help.The family is great a picking up where I leave off in the middle of a project, such as cooking dinner.I do still try to be productive rather than just a blob taking up space and oxygen.
I also discovered guilt is a part of the cancer itself.We do chat some in the waiting areas in radiation and chemo.I feel guilty over John once again having the bulk of household chores to do.Others I talk with feel the same way so it’s not just my normal guilt-mongering self doing this.Almost comforting to know it’s pretty common.
I’m hoping to have the same result during this coming week’s treatment.One day of feeling great is more than I can ask for at this time.I’ll take it!
A catheter port is a creepy thing in my books.It’s a semi-permanent IV hookup placed under the skin. Three tiny rubbery nipples can be felt and tell technicians where to place the actual IV needle to begin the process of injecting the body with the chemicals matching the need. Squeamish me actually squirmed when my chemo doctor mentioned it as an option for my 2x weekly IV treatment rather than being poked with a needle that often.
I rejected the idea, much as I hate IVs.Still seemed preferable until the Grand Inquisitor managed to mangle my hand and arm.She actually forced a needle into a vein that another tech later said was crooked and any needle inserted would end up against a valve, causing…you got it…pain.The Inquisitor didn’t believe I was in pain.She attempted to “adjust” it, while sighing heavily, then attempted to draw blood.I have great veins.Have always been told so.She said she couldn’t get any blood and after several tried used a vein in a very painful part of the arm.
The next time saw her trying the same method but trying to insert the IV into my arm.No less than 8 needle marks showed where she claimed to try to draw blood but again was unable to.I looked like a mainline junkie.
I refused to let her touch me at my third appointment, requesting that I speak with Dr. Peters first.I explained in no uncertain terms that Mary Lou was not to touch me again under any circumstances.I worry that if she’s treating me in such a manner, how is she treating the truly ill and the eldery?
At this point, I asked for the port.Please.I was no longer squeamish.Lana, “The One” over chemo distribution, started my IV with no problem and only a minimal, tiny prick sensation this time around while a appointment was made for the port.
This was a Wednesday.Out patient surgery was set for Friday at the local hospital.I tell you, I was treated like a queen.The staff couldn’t have treated me any better.The prep took some time with each nurse apologizing for asking pretty much the same questions to ensure nothing had been overlooked previously.
Surgery took very little time and out the door I went.Oh, that was after eating a turkey sandwich and chips the nurse brought when I said “I’m hungry!”She brought one for John, too, along with our choice of drink.
I slept for pretty much the next 24-hours, which is normal for me after any amount of anesthesia.The port went for its maiden run the following Wednesday and my gosh what a difference!Lana explained that the first time it’s used the insertion of the needle can be a little painful as the healing process hadn’t finished.Still much better than the old-fashioned IV insertion.
I love my port.While I can have it removed after chemo treatments are completed, I’m considering leaving it there.Face it, I will need to have surgeries, etc. as I continue to age.I like the idea of already having something in place to avoid the IV process.
The only real adjustment needed?John generally squeezes me against that side of my body.He’s having to relearn the “give Trudy a big hug” process.That’s okay.He’ll learn.He’s a pretty quick study and my biggest supporter.
While in a morbidly curious phase, I just had to look for a photo of a cervix invaded by mutant cells known as adeno carcinoma. “Why?” you ask? I dunno. Just ’cause. And like I said, I was feeling pretty morbid. Discovered part of the reason for my recent down slide in attitude and it has been adjusted very nicely, thank you.
I found a picture. And a blog that has broken my heart. I have no reason to whine or complain after reading what this woman has experienced. This is one entry. Her story of how the cancer hid only to emerge full grown and strong is mine. The outcome? Very different. Apparently, the Canadian health care system isn’t as great as we’ve heard. Treice will die, if she hasn’t already. It could have been avoided by performing a hysterectomy during an earlier bout with cervical cancer. A bout that ended with the declaration she was cancer-free. Fortunately, my docs don’t care about whether or not I appear to be cancer free. The plumbing’s comin’ out either way. Just to make sure.
Ironically, she chose to end her posts just as I was being diagnosed.
“I am beginning to think that my tumour is my mini-me; my alter ego. It is so oppositional in every way.
To avoid the probe of the papsmear it devilishly tucked its feet up and curled itself away three times. It offered only the cancer-free cells for testing, yielding negative results and took the time it needed to nuture and propogate, to deepen and breed.
Even at the biopsy, it’s self-willed ways irked the oncologists. They scratched at the tumour nearly 8 times, (all the while telling me I was so strong and so brave and that they were almost done), before they got the sample of its 8cm breadth that would finally reveal it’s type and character; adeno carcinoma.
It endured 35 rounds of radiation and two rounds of deep penetrating radiation (Brachytherapy), where it faced radiation pellets head on, in the ring for 36 hours. After that it merely skulked away for long enough to impregnate the nearby lymph node and returm to centre cervix in bloom. During this fight, it vengefully resisted the Cisplatin by sending swelling and rash to all my extremeties, including my throat and tongue, deeming me allergic to the family of chemo drugs specific to a cervical tumour.
In our second attempt to treat the cancer and prolong my life we tried Paclitaxol and Carboplatin, a distant cousin to Cisplatin. The tumour casually layed back and allowed the chemo to nibble at its toes; his body stretching, pulsing and bloody.
While I generally consider myself more altruistic than black hearted, I chuckle (believe it or not, yes, with all my whining, I still chuckle) at its counteraction and polarity.
As the doctors have recently told me there is nothing else they can do for me or my tumour, I can only believe that as I learn may out of my oppositional nature, so too, will the tumour.”
Here’s a picture of a souped up X-ray machine, better known as a “linear accelerator”.Don’t call a radiation machine a souped up X-ray machine.They don’t like it.
Pretty cool, huh?When I’m under it I feel like I’m in a “Star Wars” movie.They should play music.
The blue things hanging on the wall?These are fascinating.When the patient is initially being set up for radiation, the legs are placed in these large blue bean bags.A technician carefully moves the legs around, getting the body set just right for the treatment and forming the bags around the legs.
I asked how they could possibly be used each time as they’re, well, like bean bags.They don’t hold their shape.Then he used a gadget like a vacuum to suck the air out of the bag, leaving the little pellets in place and perfectly formed to my legs.
The blue form is labeled with my name, hung up in the radiation room, placed on the table when it’s my turn and the techs arrange my legs to precisely fit in all the nooks and crannies.Fascinating!
The machine itself goes “Bzzzzz” as it’s zapping away at the mutant cells.It then moves around to the next position, after breathing like Darth Vader, and “Bzzz’s” again.Four times.Apparently it’ll get bumped up to six positions this coming week.It’s really pretty cool and goes quickly.
How does it know where to zap?During my initial set up the tech moved an actual X-ray machine into place several times to find the exact locations, taking films along the way to double check with the doc.Stickers were placed at stratetic points.I’ve been told I’ll get tattoos.I hope they do flowers or hearts.Something tells me they won’t.
Anyway, thought you’d like to see what one of these machines looks like.I think it’s pretty cool!
John’s love, support, and willingness to take on all challenges
John’s insistence on being with me for all treatments
Being pampered
Modern medicine
A comfortable place to sleep
Chick flicks
A chick with whom I can watch chick flicks
Video games to keep boys entertained
Youth baseball
High school football
A friend who’s husband is very ill and needs support from us.A blessing?Yes, it’s a blessing to feel that even as things are here, we can still aid others.
Alec.He’s keeping Colton and Dustin occupied and entertained.More on Alec in the “worry” section.
A neighbor, an 81-year old woman, who’s being harassed by another neighbor.The rest of us are rallying around her.I’m getting to know a really sweet woman who, coincidentally, used to live in Fresno not far from where Chris and Rachel lived. Small world.
Neighbors who come to the aid of an elderly woman to show her genuine love and concern.And to provide a wall of safety around her.
Wild flowers my husband picks for me.
Worries:
John taking on so much when he’s in constant pain himself
Not being able to keep Colton in online classes due to my inability to be available to help him
Not being available to my family so much of the time
Feeling like an invalid
Becoming more fatigued and nauseous with time
Being a burden
Have any renegade cancer cells tip toed off elsewhere, to hide and pop up later?
Will I be able to attend baseball and football games?
Not keeping in touch with Dale, Kim and my darling granddaughter the way I want.
Alec.Colton’s friend.And an almost-son in our household.His grandfather was critically injured in an automobile accident 6 months ago.He’s back in the hospital, in intensive care, with more internal bleeding.Eugene, the grandfather.And Judy, the grandmother.Eugene and Judy have custody of Alec.
So much for keeping up with postings here.I’ve never been good at journaling.In fact, Dr. Gujaradi, my radiation doc, gave me this wonderful packet of information and note taking materials.The materials are very specific in purpose, outlining things such as treatments and days of treatments, appointments, results of appointments and questions for doctors.I filled part of it out yesterday.
The past three weeks have pretty much flown by. Chris and Rachel arrived and thankfully have been a great and positive distraction.Rachel and I have set Sunday afternoon movie dates.What a great tradition.Chick flicks.A nice break after 20 years in a testosterone loaded home.
And we had a special viewing of the “Phantom of the Opera” a few nights ago.Loved it.Such a sensuous movie in every way.
Okay, down to business.I finally took out a ruler and measured 6 cm, the size of my tumor.Big.Bigger than I realized.Scary.I don’t like it.I’m sending even more evil thoughts its way just to let it know its not welcome.My cervix may have said “Come on in and party, guys” but the rest of me did not give permission.
I began radiation therapy August 14.The routine is to climb on the table, pull my pants part way down, be covered with a short towel and be zapped.I joked the other day about climbing on the table and pulling my pants down and not even getting paid for it.Thankfully my team is a cheerful group and thought it was funny.I always feel better emotionally for my brief visits in radiation.
Chemo is another story.First, I’m taking an oral chemo because of the elite group I’m in with adeno cervical cancer cells.Yay, me.So, I’m taking Xeloda.For the second time in six months my pharmacist turned pale when he saw the prescription.That’s always comforting.
Cisplatin is the IV stuff.To reduce the chance of nausea, I get two treatments a week of this marvelous chemical rather than one.What I didn’t know is Benadryl is added to the cocktail.Benadryl is a knockout drug for me.I get to take it twice a week.This means sleeping for about 24-hours straight twice a week.I don’t think so.I’ll half to talk to Lana.My chemo doc says Lana is “The One”.After my first (and so far only) treatment, I thought the Benadryl might be to keep everyone quiet and submissive during treatment.Research shows it actually does serve a purpose, besides keeping everyone quiet and submissive.
It’s a histamine blocker, aiding to prevent allergic reactions to the icky chemicals.It also serves to relax the patient and reduce anxiety.For Pete’s sake!I’m already on Xanax!And I’ll take more if necessary.My psychiatrist said I could.Honestly!I’ll have to tell “The One”.Maybe she’ll pity me.
Now, the chemo room is very clinical and sterile.In contrast to the general sterility is a group of lounge chairs around the room.Very comfy chairs I might add.And a blanket—the warm fuzzy kind I love so much.The process takes three hours once it’s begun.When you sleep through it (courtesy of the cursed Benadryl) it goes by quickly.
I have two anti-nausea drugs and today is the first day I’ve really felt I need them.I woke up feeling relatively cheerful.I would have been much more cheerful if I hadn’t been up pretty much every hour on the hour last night needing to pee.Apparently more frequent urination is a common side effect of radiation therapy.Yay.But the queasiness set in as soon as I was on my feet.Ironically, I have to eat something when I take one of my other medications or my blood pressure sky rockets.But I really didn’t want to eat.Blood pressure or nausea.Rock and hard place.I chose food and so far have won the battle.A for real “YAY”.
I found a link with an actual picture of an adeno cell cervical cancer.It’s not pretty but if you want to take a look here it is:
I have great news!The cancer has not spread.Isn’t that fabulous??!!I have to tell you I was pretty scared.I managed to put it out of my mind and keep it light up until last night.On the way to the doctor’s office this morning I wanted to cry.Sitting in the doctor’s office I wanted to throw up.And we (John and I) were in the office quite awhile before Dr. Jacob got to us.But he was quick to say he had good news and we were quick to smile and literally thank God.
It’s been hard for me to use the “cancer” word in talking about this disease.Cancer just sounds so scary.I’ve called it my “newest affliction”, “ailment”, “illness”…just about everything except cancer.It doesn’t seem as scary now.
Apparently the CT scan did show some “nonspecific spots” in the lymph glands.The PET scan, however, didn’t show a thing and it’s the PET scan that’s most accurate.
Dr. Peters here in PB will handle the radiology while another doc will take care of the chemo.I’ll have radiation every day for a few weeks with radioactive needles inserted into the tumor itself in about three weeks.Chemo will continue once a week throughout the duration.I shouldn’t become nauseous or lose my hair with the type and strength of chemo I’ll be getting.Funny, as I was researching chemo a list of potential side effects was listed.Nausea and vomiting were listed as possibilities but also a stronger possibility of the patient expects it.Mind over matter, I guess.
Chemo weakens cells, all cells, but the radiation is directed at the tumor so the weakening cancer cells are more easily destroyed.After a few weeks, Dr. Jacob anticipates I’ll be cancer free!
I’m so relieved.Thank you for your prayers.I’ll keep you updated
The name on the building said “Cancer Institute”.I didn’t like that name.I squirmed a little in the car seat as we approached the building and I saw that John was not very comfortable either.I mean, we know I have cancer, but “Cancer Institute”?Somehow that just makes it a little too real.
I was scheduled for check in at 11:30 AM for a PET scan.I wanted to tell the young woman at the front desk that I forgot Reagan and Pop Tart so would have to come back later for the PET scan.Somehow, she didn’t seem the type that would appreciate humor.
PET stands for Positron Emission Tomography.A small amount of radioactive laced sugar is injected into the subject’s, er, patient’s, blood stream for the purpose of freaking out the rest of the family with glow in the dark eyes!!Drats.We were told I wouldn’t glow.So where’s the fun?
Okay, back to Serious Stuff.So, this radioactive material hooks up in the area of the body being examined.Now, it doesn’t allow for an actual clear picture but does show where there’s a lot of chemical activity.Apparently this radioactive material likes to join any party going on.It accumulates wherever the bad boys are playing.Hopefully, the only party going on within me is the one we’re already aware of.What we don’t want is for any other area to light up.Instead of working like an X-ray with the radioactive rays flowing into the body, the radioactive material is on the inside and picked up by the camera (say “cheese!”) on the outside.
The PET scanner itself looks like this:
I was warned to wear warm clothing for the exam itself and am I ever glad I did.It seemed strange to pack sweats and warm fuzzy socks on a miserably hot day but even at that I needed a blanket.It was cold in the building housing the scanner.
Deborah took care of me beautifully, ushering me from place to place, bringing me ice water, positioning me on the scanning table.Vince was a dear, saying “I’m sorry” when I said “Ouch!” as he inserted the IV.He explained he’s terrified of spiders and for his wife its needles.
I just kicked back and read magazines for about an hour while waiting for my chemical cocktail to work its way through my body.Deborah escorted me to the scanning table, covered me with a blanket, made sure the pillow under my head and the one supporting my knees were comfy and said to just breathe normally, but try not to take a deep breath.So, what do you think I had to try not to due through the duration of the test?That’s right.Not take a deep breath.
I was drowsy, the lighting was dim, I was in sweats and covered by a blanket and the machine itself made a continuous, soft whirring noise.I was just going to allow myself to drift off for a little snooze when my head jerked a little bit.Oh, no!I couldn’t fall asleep!What if my body gave one of those jerks that sometimes happen when you start to fall asleep?
I forced myself to stay awake.Deborah got a good chuckle out of it as she led me back to the main building.She was such an incredible doll.Soft spoken and genuinely sweet as can be.It’s easy to see why she was hired.
We didn’t realize until we arrived at the, uh, facility that the test would take nearly 2 hours from start to finish.I told the guys to take off, get something to eat and do something fun.John took Dustin and Colton to “Shoe Carnival” (actual name) where they purchased school shoes.Colton got this really great looking pair of Nikes but the clerk didn’t double check the box before the sale.Colton ended up with two left shoes.Darn.That means we have to go back. Which means I get to go to “Shoe Carnival”, too!
John asked me where I’d like to eat (no food all day prior to the test and it was 2:00PM by this time).I knew they’d already eaten so I really didn’t want them to sit somewhere while I ate a full meal.But then again, he did say we’d go wherever I wanted to go.Olive Garden!Yay!I ordered soup and the most incredible, indulgent, decadent chocolate tort ever created.I later found out it had no added sugar.Oh, my gosh was it luscious.The guys all had dessert, too, so I didn’t feel badly about making them sit somewhere while I ate.
Monday’s test was a CT scan which was not nearly as dramatic as the PET scan.Part of the scan involved the usual CT scan stuff.The devise looks a lot like a PET scanner.It works more like an X-ray machine, but instead of 2-D renderings, it takes pictures in little slices and puts them back together again, giving a better idea of what’s taking place inside the organs, not just on the outside.
For the second part, a dye was injected into my body.The technician warned that some people sense a strange, metallic smell and taste for just a fraction of a second and others feel a warmth go through their body as the dye flows through the blood stream.The metallic taste and smell didn’t last long, but the warm feeling started as warm, then warmer, then downright hot.I felt like I was on a roaster over hot coals.Fortunately, that didn’t last long either.
We get the results of the tests back Friday.I hope and pray nothing glowed except for those bad boy cells we’re already aware of.
Sorry, but I can’t help but share the picture my oncologist, Dr. Jacob, drew while John and I were in his office:
Yep, purple felt tip pen on paper towel.Isn’t that a crack up?I have to admit I loved the way he introduced himself.Not “Hi. I’m Dr. Jacob” but “Hi. I’m Joe Jacob”.
The image on the right hand side is of the cervix.When it’s healthy, it’s a donut shape and smooth, like a glazed donut.Dr. Jacob said you don’t want to see a coconut donut.Mine’s coconut.Wouldn’t you know it?My cat scan is Monday.
And my PET scan is Tuesday.Guess I need to bring Reagan for this one.
Truthfully, I feel good.I now know why I was getting so tired and instead of fighting it I’m giving into it.If I need to take two naps a day, so be it.When I’m rested I feel really good.I want to go outside and play catch and do arts and crafts projects with the boys.We have a huge mess in the living room right now and I’m enjoying the heck out of it.Messes can be cleaned up.Memories stay.We can’t go on a vacation for many reasons but I think things like cutting, pasting, bending pipe cleaners, painting with colored salt, etc. form better memories anyway.
And it’s a prelude to how I want this year’s Christmas season to be.Not about rushing to buy stuff that’ll be forgotten soon but doing things together.Gingerbread houses, giant snowflakes (found the greatest pattern on WikiHow), making an advent calendar.
I’m really having a blast watching the fireflies come out at night.And having shouting matches with other parents at ball games.I think that one shocked John.I got a lot of pats on the back from other parents on Colton’s team.It felt good to let her have it.
I have multi-denominational prayers being said on my behalf and on behalf of the family.How amazing is that?Baptists, Catholics and Mormons.Wow.And I’m being spoiled rotten by John.Love it!
While away at Cape Girardeau for my initial consultation with the oncologist, a young woman from church, Silva Oesterreicher, stayed with Colton.Already a pro at making French toast, Colton picked up a couple of tips and now makes what I’ve dubbed: “Colton’s Slamming Banana French Toast”. Here are directions.
Take some
About one per person.
Slice them and cook them in some in a on the
Cook the on low, turning once, until soft and a little mushy.
While the are cooking, mix up some basic French toast batter using:
Heat a over medium heat on top of the
Add a couple tablespoons of when a small drop of water sizzles in the .
Dip the in the mixture and cook on each side until brown and crispy.
