Here are the key blood counts for blood counts after all 3 chemos. Still don't really know what it means:
White Blood Cells - 1st - 17.4; 2nd - 7.8; 3rd - 8.4 - normal range 4.0 - 10.5
Red Blood Cells - 1st - 4.36; 2nd - 4.04; 3rd - 3.56 - normal range 4.2-5.4
Hemoglobin - 1st - 13.0; 2nd = 12.1; 3rd - 11.0 - normal range 12.5-16.0
Hematocrit - 1st - 38.0; 2nd - 35.8; 3rd - 32.3 - normal range 37-47
Platelets this time - 428; normal range 150 - 450
Peace
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Wednesday evening
A much better day today. First, it feels like I made it through the weekend and the last couple of days mostly because of support from the good guys. Special thanks to David and H for taking me to work on Monday and Tuesday, and David for picking me up. Thanks, too, to J for his kind note in response to my down days.
I just felt better today. That weird food-tasting-off thing was gone and my intestines seemed to have calmed down. I went to work, we got through the day and finished the deal, and I took the bus to the Cancer Center for my blood counts. (I'll add specifics later - just for the record so that this blog ends up with a complete record.) Once again, the group cancer room was rocking. Full house (8 treatment seats occupied) plus another regular chair, when I got there. I took the last chair. I saw something I did not ever expect to see - a young woman obviously pregnant (I learned her baby is due in February), undergoing chemotherapy. It seemed that today was the last treatment day for the young woman; the baby is going to be a girl and Nurse E, joking, asked whether she would name the baby "E" - need some more "E's" she said. In general it seemed like all patients' spirits were in good order. Eventually Nurse E got around to me. The news was good - she said my blood counts were "awesome." Not sure what that means, but I'll take it.
Next on the treatment journey is January 7th "planning session" with the radiologist, and likely radiation to start the following week, maybe January 11th. I go in on January 13th to see Dr. R's PA (sine Dr. R is out that day), and I am supposed to see Nurse E that day to at least tentatively schedule Chemo #4 at the end of the radiation schedule.
Anyway, I'm feeling better. It's not quite so damn cold out. I have one more 1/2 day of work and then a 3 day weekend and a new year. Even though the weather is supposed to suck - snow, freezing rain - I'm hoping to get to the park at least two if not all three days.
Sending out love to all.
And, of course, peace.
I just felt better today. That weird food-tasting-off thing was gone and my intestines seemed to have calmed down. I went to work, we got through the day and finished the deal, and I took the bus to the Cancer Center for my blood counts. (I'll add specifics later - just for the record so that this blog ends up with a complete record.) Once again, the group cancer room was rocking. Full house (8 treatment seats occupied) plus another regular chair, when I got there. I took the last chair. I saw something I did not ever expect to see - a young woman obviously pregnant (I learned her baby is due in February), undergoing chemotherapy. It seemed that today was the last treatment day for the young woman; the baby is going to be a girl and Nurse E, joking, asked whether she would name the baby "E" - need some more "E's" she said. In general it seemed like all patients' spirits were in good order. Eventually Nurse E got around to me. The news was good - she said my blood counts were "awesome." Not sure what that means, but I'll take it.
Next on the treatment journey is January 7th "planning session" with the radiologist, and likely radiation to start the following week, maybe January 11th. I go in on January 13th to see Dr. R's PA (sine Dr. R is out that day), and I am supposed to see Nurse E that day to at least tentatively schedule Chemo #4 at the end of the radiation schedule.
Anyway, I'm feeling better. It's not quite so damn cold out. I have one more 1/2 day of work and then a 3 day weekend and a new year. Even though the weather is supposed to suck - snow, freezing rain - I'm hoping to get to the park at least two if not all three days.
Sending out love to all.
And, of course, peace.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Monday night
Not a very good day today. I slept okay (and a lot) last night and woke up feeling pretty good, and David gave me a ride to work. The work day started okay. I have been having that chemo side effect where food doesn't really taste right which pisses me off mostly because it means I don't even get to really (really) enjoy my morning coffee. It just doesn't taste like it should. Anyway, soon into the morning I began having diarrhea which lasted basically all day. I think that tired me out further than I already was. And some bone/joint pain, too. Because of this end of year "crisis" at work, I ended up staying until after 3:30, and I'm sure that tired me out more. David picked me up, too, but by the time I got home, I was not feeling so swell. I actually took a pain pill about an hour ago - the real deal, not just Motrin - I figured if it causes constipation, that might offset the diarrhea, and it does seem to have helped with the joint/bone pain. I'm wondering if the diarrhea is from the chemo or just from the weird stuff that I ate over the past couple of days. I'm wondering how my blood counts will be on Wed - I go a day early this time because the Cancer Center closes early on Thursday for New Year's Eve. Maybe I'm just fighting off a virus, a plain old stomach flu or something.
Anyway, I'm hoping today is the hump day and I really turn a corner tomorrow. The disability insurance company did approve the extension of my disability leave through March 15 and approved my working 6 hours (versus 4 hours), starting tomorrow. Since I worked more than 6 today, I'm hoping to work 4 tomorrow or Wednesday and possibly even take Thursday off since I still have vacation days and stand to lose some of them if I don't take them this year.
Going to bed to let the pain med do its magic.
Peace.
Anyway, I'm hoping today is the hump day and I really turn a corner tomorrow. The disability insurance company did approve the extension of my disability leave through March 15 and approved my working 6 hours (versus 4 hours), starting tomorrow. Since I worked more than 6 today, I'm hoping to work 4 tomorrow or Wednesday and possibly even take Thursday off since I still have vacation days and stand to lose some of them if I don't take them this year.
Going to bed to let the pain med do its magic.
Peace.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Sunday afternoon
Quiet weekend, not feeling great. Not terrible, but not great. It was sleeting or freezing rain on Saturday morning so Jessie and I didn't get to the park. I went to services at synagogue, also quiet, rabbi and many other people away. Some bone pain, not agony but uncomfortable. Back to the weird hungry-but food not tasting great dialectic. Also some constipation playing tag team with diarrhea. Main side effect - fatigue. I went to bed at 8:01 Saturday night and, although I woke up a couple of times in the early morning hours, I went back to sleep and didn't get up until 6:00 am today. So unseasonably and weirdly warm today - 49 degrees on Dec 27th - I did manage to take Jessie to the park this morning in the rain. We were both pretty bedraggled by the end.
I spoke to my son and grandson. I realized tonight when I took Jessie for a short walk in the neighborhood that because of my kids' visit - and particularly my grandson's visit - so many places here now bring him to mind. So when we walked tonight by the playground by the school yard, it wasn't just the playground by the school yard that kids play at, it was the play ground by the school yard where we took C while he was here. That's a gift he left behind. I hear he had a good Christmas, enjoyed every gift and went to see the Chipmunk movie, too!
I had a long and thoughtful message from M in response to my last couple of posts, for which I am grateful. There were several people I had hoped to call today to catch up after the holiday, but I just felt washed out. I think I just have been trying to hunker down. I know I have a hard 4 day work week in front of me and hope I feel better tomorrow. I guess I'm even a little nervous about leaving chemo behind - odd as that sounds - and venturing into a new form of treatment. At least I had begun to know what to expect with chemo. On the other hand, good riddance for 6-8 weeks! I'm just wondering how the radiation will affect me. Fatigue seems to have been a problem for me with the chemo; will the radiation be worse? Will I be able to work? What will it be like going for the treatments? With chemo, there is a camaraderie in the group chemo rooms. Radiation seems like it will be me going through it all alone. Jeez, a person can really find things to worry about all the time, right?
I'm okay. Tired, a little shaky, but feeling better today than yesterday. Perhaps another 10 hours of sleep will restore me further.
Peace.
I spoke to my son and grandson. I realized tonight when I took Jessie for a short walk in the neighborhood that because of my kids' visit - and particularly my grandson's visit - so many places here now bring him to mind. So when we walked tonight by the playground by the school yard, it wasn't just the playground by the school yard that kids play at, it was the play ground by the school yard where we took C while he was here. That's a gift he left behind. I hear he had a good Christmas, enjoyed every gift and went to see the Chipmunk movie, too!
I had a long and thoughtful message from M in response to my last couple of posts, for which I am grateful. There were several people I had hoped to call today to catch up after the holiday, but I just felt washed out. I think I just have been trying to hunker down. I know I have a hard 4 day work week in front of me and hope I feel better tomorrow. I guess I'm even a little nervous about leaving chemo behind - odd as that sounds - and venturing into a new form of treatment. At least I had begun to know what to expect with chemo. On the other hand, good riddance for 6-8 weeks! I'm just wondering how the radiation will affect me. Fatigue seems to have been a problem for me with the chemo; will the radiation be worse? Will I be able to work? What will it be like going for the treatments? With chemo, there is a camaraderie in the group chemo rooms. Radiation seems like it will be me going through it all alone. Jeez, a person can really find things to worry about all the time, right?
I'm okay. Tired, a little shaky, but feeling better today than yesterday. Perhaps another 10 hours of sleep will restore me further.
Peace.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Friday evening
Chemo # 3 is history. V picked me up Wed morning and we were able to have coffee and a little breakfast and visit before she dropped me off. The Cancer Center was a humming hive. I saw Dr. R, and it was - I am a little chagrined to say - a good visit. Perhaps because my second chemo went so much better than my first. She said I was doing very well, my blood counts are good and so on. I actually asked her if the fact that my blood counts are good and I feel so well could mean that the chemo isn't doing what it should be doing. She laughed; she said it was the first time anyone ever asked her that question. And she reassured me that it doesn't mean that, just that the new anti-nausea meds and the NuLasta shot are able to really improve the experience for many cancer patients. (Interestingly I ran into Dr. R in Whole Foods on Thursday afternoon; she recognized me and came over and asked how I was feeling. It was strange to see her in such a different context but nice.)
My appointment with Dr. R was at 9:10 and I was done by 9:30. I went to the back chemo group room that they call China because it's so far from the front entrance to the center, and there was a waiting line to get chemo. I kid you not. There were, I think, 8 treatment chairs. They were all full and 3 or so people in them hadn't even gotten started yet. I got a chair after about an hour and about an hour after that I started chemo, so I was done about 3:00 pm. I met an interesting couple; the woman, L., is the cancer patient, and with her was her husband D. She is a retired teacher, he a retired postal worker. She is facing her second bout with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. She was going to get chemo on Wed, but her blood counts weren't good so she had to receive whole blood. She was there almost as long as me just to receive a pint of blood. I think they were backed up because of the holiday. Anyway, I felt for her - she, her husband and I enjoyed talking for several hours - about books, about politics - the bad "healthcare" bill - etc. It sounds like she's had a rough road, needing many blood transfusions over the course of her treatment. But her spirits were good and she was positive.
I learned that the Cancer Center was closing at noon on Thursday and I couldn't get my NuLasta shot until 3:00 pm (must be minimum of 24 hours after chemo is finished). So there was a bit of a ruckus solving the issue. Nurse E was able to find a nurse at the hospital to agree to do it, and set up an appointment for me to go to the nursing station there at 3:00 on Thurs.
I worked Thursday morning, went into the office, very busy in our little group with our end-of-year urgent matters, but on the whole many many people out on vacation. I went to the hospital and got the shot. I had a nice brief chat with my daughter who called to check on me. She arrived in Atlanta and was staying with her cousin A, who has a baby that is about 15 months old I think. Last night I was wiped out and just slightly nauseous, not throwing up level, just affecting what I felt like eating. I ended up eating just some good sour dough bread David had bought, but couldn't get down much of the chicken soup he had so kindly made. I ended up falling asleep on the couch by 6:30 or 7:00 I think, getting up later to get into bed.
This morning I had arranged to meet H at 6:30 am and we took a long walk - with Jessie - through the neighborhood and to the park (I usually drive to the park and do my walking there) - and that was good. In general I felt better, still tired and still just the slightest bit nauseous, but I admit I was eating odd things today - nuts and candy and cookies that were gifts. I did have orange juice and a bowl of cereal this morning. I am starting to have some bone ... discomfort ... from the NuLasta shot. I wouldn't (yet) call it pain, but I may take a Motrin before bed. I had another chat with my daughter, and a lovely long call with Aunt M and C - wish I could be there to share Aunt M's chicken dinner tonight - and a brief call with my brother J. David had a long chat with his niece S; we hope to make it up to visit her and her family in Maine before too long. David seems to be fighting a cold and I think is generally tired from his work, from getting our place ready for my kids' visit and from the visit itself. I hope he can fight it off and it doesn't spoil his time off - he has a rare 4 nights off of work in a row.
Well, that's it for now. For anyone reading this, please offer a little prayer for the sweet lady L that I met in the chemo room on Wed and for all the others everywhere that face disease, poverty, hunger, oppression, war. A prayer for peace. A prayer to hold on to hope in dark times.
Peace.
My appointment with Dr. R was at 9:10 and I was done by 9:30. I went to the back chemo group room that they call China because it's so far from the front entrance to the center, and there was a waiting line to get chemo. I kid you not. There were, I think, 8 treatment chairs. They were all full and 3 or so people in them hadn't even gotten started yet. I got a chair after about an hour and about an hour after that I started chemo, so I was done about 3:00 pm. I met an interesting couple; the woman, L., is the cancer patient, and with her was her husband D. She is a retired teacher, he a retired postal worker. She is facing her second bout with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. She was going to get chemo on Wed, but her blood counts weren't good so she had to receive whole blood. She was there almost as long as me just to receive a pint of blood. I think they were backed up because of the holiday. Anyway, I felt for her - she, her husband and I enjoyed talking for several hours - about books, about politics - the bad "healthcare" bill - etc. It sounds like she's had a rough road, needing many blood transfusions over the course of her treatment. But her spirits were good and she was positive.
I learned that the Cancer Center was closing at noon on Thursday and I couldn't get my NuLasta shot until 3:00 pm (must be minimum of 24 hours after chemo is finished). So there was a bit of a ruckus solving the issue. Nurse E was able to find a nurse at the hospital to agree to do it, and set up an appointment for me to go to the nursing station there at 3:00 on Thurs.
I worked Thursday morning, went into the office, very busy in our little group with our end-of-year urgent matters, but on the whole many many people out on vacation. I went to the hospital and got the shot. I had a nice brief chat with my daughter who called to check on me. She arrived in Atlanta and was staying with her cousin A, who has a baby that is about 15 months old I think. Last night I was wiped out and just slightly nauseous, not throwing up level, just affecting what I felt like eating. I ended up eating just some good sour dough bread David had bought, but couldn't get down much of the chicken soup he had so kindly made. I ended up falling asleep on the couch by 6:30 or 7:00 I think, getting up later to get into bed.
This morning I had arranged to meet H at 6:30 am and we took a long walk - with Jessie - through the neighborhood and to the park (I usually drive to the park and do my walking there) - and that was good. In general I felt better, still tired and still just the slightest bit nauseous, but I admit I was eating odd things today - nuts and candy and cookies that were gifts. I did have orange juice and a bowl of cereal this morning. I am starting to have some bone ... discomfort ... from the NuLasta shot. I wouldn't (yet) call it pain, but I may take a Motrin before bed. I had another chat with my daughter, and a lovely long call with Aunt M and C - wish I could be there to share Aunt M's chicken dinner tonight - and a brief call with my brother J. David had a long chat with his niece S; we hope to make it up to visit her and her family in Maine before too long. David seems to be fighting a cold and I think is generally tired from his work, from getting our place ready for my kids' visit and from the visit itself. I hope he can fight it off and it doesn't spoil his time off - he has a rare 4 nights off of work in a row.
Well, that's it for now. For anyone reading this, please offer a little prayer for the sweet lady L that I met in the chemo room on Wed and for all the others everywhere that face disease, poverty, hunger, oppression, war. A prayer for peace. A prayer to hold on to hope in dark times.
Peace.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Tuesday evening
Everyone has gone home. The apartment seems quiet. Even Jessie seems subdued. We were a little worried that my son's flights would be affected by the snow storm of the weekend, but I spoke to him today and they got home with no trouble.
I went into the office today. We're gearing up for end of the year deals. I need to call the disability insurance company and see if they received Dr. M's request to extend my disability after 12/28, and to approve me going to 3/4 time work (30 hours a week) during the radiation treatments. I meant to do it today but got too busy and forgot.
My eyes are drooping but I'm forcing myself to stay up until 10:00 pm to take the Decadron. I have to take it again at 5:00 am. I see Dr. R at 9:10. V is picking me up and we're going to go for coffee and some breakfast beforehand.
I found it interesting that my kids really had no questions they wanted to ask me about the treatments or the whole process. I think they may have been relieved to find me really unchanged except for my poor bald head. My son commented specifically on how much energy he thought I had. And it's true that while they were here, my energy level was up (at least I wasn't falling asleep on the couch at 7:00 or 7:30 pm as I was doing the week before they came). Still the kids were supportive and clearly concerned about me. I think back to the fact that when my father had his open heart surgery in the mid 1970's, I was in my mid-20's. I'm not sure I had many questions about the specifics of his treatments, just how he was doing in general, how he felt and his prognosis.
Anyway, the only thing I'm really dreading about Chemo #3 is the NuLasta shot and possible side effects spilling over into next week, which promises to be a very very busy week at work (and the week I'm hoping to start working 3/4 instead of 1/2 time). I have to say that although I do like Dr. R, I can't say I"m really looking forward to seeing her. There's something about seeing your oncologist that raises the whole cancer thing back to the obvious. She drills me, goes through all the effects of the treatment and the effects of the drugs given to deal with the effects of the treatment. When she is concerned, it shows. I much prefer just jumping on the treatment ship and sailing through the hours with Nurse E at the helm. Perhaps that's because when you're doing the treatment, you feel like you're accomplishing something (and meanwhile you don't have to think about why you need to accomplish it - whereas just the word 'oncologist' reminds you).
At any rate, it's good to know that once I get through tomorrow, I have one work day and then a 3 day weekend. 3 days to get back to the park and see what (and who) is stirring over there. I wonder if the omnipresent squirrels ever hibernate. (Do squirrels hibernate? I assume so, but actually don't know. Their apparently more delicate chipmunk cousins do seem to have gone to ground for the winter.)
Peace on earth.
I went into the office today. We're gearing up for end of the year deals. I need to call the disability insurance company and see if they received Dr. M's request to extend my disability after 12/28, and to approve me going to 3/4 time work (30 hours a week) during the radiation treatments. I meant to do it today but got too busy and forgot.
My eyes are drooping but I'm forcing myself to stay up until 10:00 pm to take the Decadron. I have to take it again at 5:00 am. I see Dr. R at 9:10. V is picking me up and we're going to go for coffee and some breakfast beforehand.
I found it interesting that my kids really had no questions they wanted to ask me about the treatments or the whole process. I think they may have been relieved to find me really unchanged except for my poor bald head. My son commented specifically on how much energy he thought I had. And it's true that while they were here, my energy level was up (at least I wasn't falling asleep on the couch at 7:00 or 7:30 pm as I was doing the week before they came). Still the kids were supportive and clearly concerned about me. I think back to the fact that when my father had his open heart surgery in the mid 1970's, I was in my mid-20's. I'm not sure I had many questions about the specifics of his treatments, just how he was doing in general, how he felt and his prognosis.
Anyway, the only thing I'm really dreading about Chemo #3 is the NuLasta shot and possible side effects spilling over into next week, which promises to be a very very busy week at work (and the week I'm hoping to start working 3/4 instead of 1/2 time). I have to say that although I do like Dr. R, I can't say I"m really looking forward to seeing her. There's something about seeing your oncologist that raises the whole cancer thing back to the obvious. She drills me, goes through all the effects of the treatment and the effects of the drugs given to deal with the effects of the treatment. When she is concerned, it shows. I much prefer just jumping on the treatment ship and sailing through the hours with Nurse E at the helm. Perhaps that's because when you're doing the treatment, you feel like you're accomplishing something (and meanwhile you don't have to think about why you need to accomplish it - whereas just the word 'oncologist' reminds you).
At any rate, it's good to know that once I get through tomorrow, I have one work day and then a 3 day weekend. 3 days to get back to the park and see what (and who) is stirring over there. I wonder if the omnipresent squirrels ever hibernate. (Do squirrels hibernate? I assume so, but actually don't know. Their apparently more delicate chipmunk cousins do seem to have gone to ground for the winter.)
Peace on earth.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Monday morning
I had a good weekend. Saturday I took Jessie to the park. It was cold. Very cold. Then my son, grandson and I went out to breakfast and then to the Connecticut Children's Museum. My grandson had a blast. He cried when we made him leave every exhibit, because he was having so much fun in every one of them. We even saw a brief planetarium show and a movie in the planetarium. It snowed 6 or 8 inches on Saturday night and on Sunday morning we had breakfast at home, and then David, my son and my grandson and I went to the park - but the other side of the park from where I usually go with Jessie - because there is a big hill there. David had found 2 plastic tray-like thingys in our basement that belonged to someone who had moved out. They appeared to be made for "sledding" on snow. So we took those. First my son went down holding my grandson on his lap, but later my grandson went down on the "sled" by himself (although we had moved to a slightly gentler slope before he did that). He spied a playground in the park and wanted to go there, so we trudged through the snow to the playground equipment and he happily climbed and slid and had fun there. Then more hill sliding. It was a good - if exhausting - morning.
THe other day my son remarked on how "healthy" I seem, being thankful for it. I do feel healthy, relatively speaking. I mean I felt healthy before all this began - except for the one problem I was having (breakthrough bleeding which isn't supposed to "break through" when you are a post-menopausal woman).
It has been a good visit. I loved spending time with my grandson who is amazing. I'm sure every grandmother says that, especially about a first grandchild, but nonetheless...
Anyway, I have to work this morning and then my son and grandson fly out this afternoon - assuming that the airport delays have cleared up and their plane is able to take off.
Tonight, Tai Chi. Tomorrow night, the Decadron routine again (5 tablets at 10:00 pm - 2 hours past my bedtime). Wednesday, Chemo. Thursday, NuLasta shot.
In the meantime, peace.
THe other day my son remarked on how "healthy" I seem, being thankful for it. I do feel healthy, relatively speaking. I mean I felt healthy before all this began - except for the one problem I was having (breakthrough bleeding which isn't supposed to "break through" when you are a post-menopausal woman).
It has been a good visit. I loved spending time with my grandson who is amazing. I'm sure every grandmother says that, especially about a first grandchild, but nonetheless...
Anyway, I have to work this morning and then my son and grandson fly out this afternoon - assuming that the airport delays have cleared up and their plane is able to take off.
Tonight, Tai Chi. Tomorrow night, the Decadron routine again (5 tablets at 10:00 pm - 2 hours past my bedtime). Wednesday, Chemo. Thursday, NuLasta shot.
In the meantime, peace.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Thursday morning and Friday morning
Thursday morning - three pitiful ducks. That's what Jessie and I saw at the pond yesterday morning. Female. Smallish, perhaps juveniles. It was supposed to be 27 degrees, but possibly because it had been warmer the past couple of days, some of the ice on the pond that was there at our prvious visit had melted. Still the area in which these sad little ducks had to swim was small. I wondered if they were left behind by the larger group that inhabits the pond, or if they stopped at the park on their way from somewhere further north to somewhere further south. At any rate, it was good to see them, but I worried about them.
Friday morning - the ducks are gone. Hopefully they flew on south. It was even colder this morning and more of the pond was frozen over, almost all of it.
Perhaps because the pond-related level of activity is lower, I found myself noticing other things in the park. For instance, the odd consistency of the red clay path that circles the larger of the two parts of the park. It had snowed, the snow had melted, the water had soaked into the red clay and caused it to form pellet-like globules that crunch under foot. Jessie and I also went to the rock garden and I sat on a bench in the cold dawn light for while. The rock garden is so bare now. Truly a "rock" garden. While I sat there, a hawk flew overhead, followed by another hawk obviously chasing it. My eyes are too bad and the hawks were too high for me to be sure, but I am guessing red tailed hawks. Not sure.
One thing I'm grateful to this cancer experience for is what seems to be a newfound desire and ability to pay attention to the natural world when I'm out in it. I find myself wishing I could be able to walk in the park every single day for a year, paying attention to new details day after day. Maybe I can - if not every single day, then almost.
I've been enjoying my kids' visit. My daughter leaves this afternoon, my son and grandson stay over until Monday.
I saw Dr. M on Wednesday. He pronounced me fully recovered from the surgery and able to exercise and generally "do" whatever I feel up to doing. Of course, I am already back in my Tai Chi class. And my little Hanukkah gathering seemed to be a success - almost every single latke was devoured. Thanks to all the friends who came by - and to my kids for bearing with me in my desire to let my friends meet them and the baby. It made me happy (especial thanks to V and J for bringing the plunger and to J for using it with skill to unstop my kitchen sink which saved the day - and the party - literally).
I've mostly been focused on the kids and my grandson, but the back of my brain is now counting down days to Chemo #3 - next Wednesday. It will be a little odd to have chemo and go back on Christmas Eve for the NuLasta shot, and then experience the side effects of the chemo and the shot over the holiday weekend.
Okay, going to go out for breakfast with the kids.
Peace on earth. Now if possible.
Friday morning - the ducks are gone. Hopefully they flew on south. It was even colder this morning and more of the pond was frozen over, almost all of it.
Perhaps because the pond-related level of activity is lower, I found myself noticing other things in the park. For instance, the odd consistency of the red clay path that circles the larger of the two parts of the park. It had snowed, the snow had melted, the water had soaked into the red clay and caused it to form pellet-like globules that crunch under foot. Jessie and I also went to the rock garden and I sat on a bench in the cold dawn light for while. The rock garden is so bare now. Truly a "rock" garden. While I sat there, a hawk flew overhead, followed by another hawk obviously chasing it. My eyes are too bad and the hawks were too high for me to be sure, but I am guessing red tailed hawks. Not sure.
One thing I'm grateful to this cancer experience for is what seems to be a newfound desire and ability to pay attention to the natural world when I'm out in it. I find myself wishing I could be able to walk in the park every single day for a year, paying attention to new details day after day. Maybe I can - if not every single day, then almost.
I've been enjoying my kids' visit. My daughter leaves this afternoon, my son and grandson stay over until Monday.
I saw Dr. M on Wednesday. He pronounced me fully recovered from the surgery and able to exercise and generally "do" whatever I feel up to doing. Of course, I am already back in my Tai Chi class. And my little Hanukkah gathering seemed to be a success - almost every single latke was devoured. Thanks to all the friends who came by - and to my kids for bearing with me in my desire to let my friends meet them and the baby. It made me happy (especial thanks to V and J for bringing the plunger and to J for using it with skill to unstop my kitchen sink which saved the day - and the party - literally).
I've mostly been focused on the kids and my grandson, but the back of my brain is now counting down days to Chemo #3 - next Wednesday. It will be a little odd to have chemo and go back on Christmas Eve for the NuLasta shot, and then experience the side effects of the chemo and the shot over the holiday weekend.
Okay, going to go out for breakfast with the kids.
Peace on earth. Now if possible.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Wednesday morning
The kids are here and my grandson. Amazing what a couple of young people and a 3 year old do to the staid atmosphere of a small apartment. My grandson in particular has livened up the mix - he's interested in everything, so he picks things up and moves them around. What a shake up. It's great! I'm sure after they leave I'll be finding things in odd places for weeks to come.
I see Dr. M this afternoon for a post-surgery follow up. Should be routine.
I'm feeling well. I can't say I'm looking forward to the chemo next week, except that after it, there's no more chemo for between 8 and 12 weeks! (2-3 weeks off, then radiation, then 2-3 weeks off and then the last 3 chemos).
I'm taking tomorrow and Friday off of work to spend time with the kids. I hope to get up early tomorrow and take Jessie to the park while everyone else is sleeping. I want to see what's going on there - if the ducks are really gone for the season, I'll have to explore a little more and find some other living creatures to keep track of over these cold winter months.
Thanks to several people who sent me their thoughts about my experience at synagogue with people who usually do not speak to me doing so on learning of my cancer. I was ungenerous (and thanks to J who was glad to know I am sometimes mean spirited - if only J knew how often such sparks of mean-spiritedness flare up in my withered old heart, just usually not out onto the paper - no noble suffering cancer patient, I!) - and I do see how people could be trying to be kind. I will try to keep it in mind.
It's a cold day. But the sun is out. And my grandson likes listening to my book that includes 100 songs and calls of birds.
Peace
I see Dr. M this afternoon for a post-surgery follow up. Should be routine.
I'm feeling well. I can't say I'm looking forward to the chemo next week, except that after it, there's no more chemo for between 8 and 12 weeks! (2-3 weeks off, then radiation, then 2-3 weeks off and then the last 3 chemos).
I'm taking tomorrow and Friday off of work to spend time with the kids. I hope to get up early tomorrow and take Jessie to the park while everyone else is sleeping. I want to see what's going on there - if the ducks are really gone for the season, I'll have to explore a little more and find some other living creatures to keep track of over these cold winter months.
Thanks to several people who sent me their thoughts about my experience at synagogue with people who usually do not speak to me doing so on learning of my cancer. I was ungenerous (and thanks to J who was glad to know I am sometimes mean spirited - if only J knew how often such sparks of mean-spiritedness flare up in my withered old heart, just usually not out onto the paper - no noble suffering cancer patient, I!) - and I do see how people could be trying to be kind. I will try to keep it in mind.
It's a cold day. But the sun is out. And my grandson likes listening to my book that includes 100 songs and calls of birds.
Peace
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Sunday afternoon
A grey day, rain, sleet and freezing rain this afternoon. Jessie and I did make it to the park this morning, first time in quite a while. It was quiet. The pond had half frozen over and the other half was mid-freezing, looking like wrinkled skin. No ducks. Or else they were well hidden. Very quiet. Eerie.
I went into the office on Friday and had a pretty good day. Friday night, David and I had dinner at H and M's; good food, good company. Saturday I went to sabbath services at synagogue, and stayed to hear the rabbinic intern's talk on Hannukah. It appears that word has finally gotten out generally about my circumstances. Many people came up and spoke to me (how are you feeling? is there anything I can do for you? do you need any food? ) including a number of people that generally ignore me. Interesting phenomenon. Is it the synagogue equivalent of rubbernecking on a highway after a bad accident? (Okay, that's not very generous on my part, I admit.)
Last night David's brother R and his girlfriend J came over. We visited a while and then went out to dinner. It was a good evening, too.
Today was cleaning day, trying to finish getting the apartment ready for the kids' visit. David and I both worked hard. I went to the store to get some things for the baby - apple juice, raisin bran, fruit, cookies.
As all of the foregoing shows, I'm feeling good. Still dealing with slight numbness in tips of several fingers - side effect of the NuLasta shot. Still get tired at 7:30 pm and am gone by 8:30 pm (of course, I'm getting up at 5:30 or 6:00). But basically I"m okay. The kids flights are late tomorrow night - my daughter arrives around 8 pm and my son and grandson not until 9:30 or so - so they won't be arriving here until quite late.
But all is well in my corner of the world right now.
Peace.
I went into the office on Friday and had a pretty good day. Friday night, David and I had dinner at H and M's; good food, good company. Saturday I went to sabbath services at synagogue, and stayed to hear the rabbinic intern's talk on Hannukah. It appears that word has finally gotten out generally about my circumstances. Many people came up and spoke to me (how are you feeling? is there anything I can do for you? do you need any food? ) including a number of people that generally ignore me. Interesting phenomenon. Is it the synagogue equivalent of rubbernecking on a highway after a bad accident? (Okay, that's not very generous on my part, I admit.)
Last night David's brother R and his girlfriend J came over. We visited a while and then went out to dinner. It was a good evening, too.
Today was cleaning day, trying to finish getting the apartment ready for the kids' visit. David and I both worked hard. I went to the store to get some things for the baby - apple juice, raisin bran, fruit, cookies.
As all of the foregoing shows, I'm feeling good. Still dealing with slight numbness in tips of several fingers - side effect of the NuLasta shot. Still get tired at 7:30 pm and am gone by 8:30 pm (of course, I'm getting up at 5:30 or 6:00). But basically I"m okay. The kids flights are late tomorrow night - my daughter arrives around 8 pm and my son and grandson not until 9:30 or so - so they won't be arriving here until quite late.
But all is well in my corner of the world right now.
Peace.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Thursday afternoon
Yesterday was a pretty normal day. I worked in the morning from home. I had hoped to go into the office, but the 5-6 inches of snow we got over night and into the morning convinced me to rethink the idea. I did go out in the afternoon and clean off my truck. Good exercise although I feel like I pulled something on one of my ribs. A little sore. The snow had turned to rain and I was worried that it would get colder and turn the layer of snow to ice on the truck, which would be hard to get off. I didn't need to go anywhere yesterday, but today I had to go to the Cancer Center for my blood work.
I went in and they were swamped. Poor Nurse E had a room full of all her patients, most waiting to be started on chemo, a couple of us there for blood work results. It took a long time and she was a little distracted, so I didn't really get to talk to her the way I had sort of hoped to. Specifically I wanted to more than mention (which I did) this sort of odd "pain" I've had the last couple of days in my abdomen. At first I thought it was gas, but I don't think so. It's not excruciating or anything, but kind of unpleasant. Comes and goes to some extent, but is more there than not. I did mention it. She wondered if it could be something post-surgery related, or even a hernia. She asked if I had seen or was going to see Dr. M. I told her I was supposed to have a follow up with him 6 weeks after the surgery - which actually was last week. So anyway, I did call his office and I have an appointment next Wednesday.
As far as the blood counts go, Nurse E said they were fine, but they do seem different than last time. Here's some comparisons:
White Blood Cells - Last time 17.4 ; this time 7.8; Normal range 4.0-10.5
Red Blood Cells - Last time 4.36; this time 4.04; normal range 4.2-5.4
Hemoglobin - Last time 13.0; this time 12.1; normal range 12.5-16.0
Hematocrit - Last time 38.0; this time 35.8; normal range 37-47
My platelets were still good - last time 300; this time 345; normal range 150-450
Anyway, Nurse E didn't seem concerned. But she also didn't have much time to talk to me about what it meant. I see Dr. R before the next chemo on Dec 23rd so I guess I just need to write down questions and take them with me.
At any rate, I'm doing okay. We still have quite a bit to do around here to get ready for the kids' visit. But I'm doing my best not to stress over it. It will get done. Or it won't. Either way, it wll be great to have them here. I'm feeling better already, and I think I'm on the upswing now and so should feel better every day from now on (to the next chemo).
Okay. I'm going out to do an errand or two. It's a cold and beautiful day. Blue sky. Clouds. Sun. Wind.
Peace.
I went in and they were swamped. Poor Nurse E had a room full of all her patients, most waiting to be started on chemo, a couple of us there for blood work results. It took a long time and she was a little distracted, so I didn't really get to talk to her the way I had sort of hoped to. Specifically I wanted to more than mention (which I did) this sort of odd "pain" I've had the last couple of days in my abdomen. At first I thought it was gas, but I don't think so. It's not excruciating or anything, but kind of unpleasant. Comes and goes to some extent, but is more there than not. I did mention it. She wondered if it could be something post-surgery related, or even a hernia. She asked if I had seen or was going to see Dr. M. I told her I was supposed to have a follow up with him 6 weeks after the surgery - which actually was last week. So anyway, I did call his office and I have an appointment next Wednesday.
As far as the blood counts go, Nurse E said they were fine, but they do seem different than last time. Here's some comparisons:
White Blood Cells - Last time 17.4 ; this time 7.8; Normal range 4.0-10.5
Red Blood Cells - Last time 4.36; this time 4.04; normal range 4.2-5.4
Hemoglobin - Last time 13.0; this time 12.1; normal range 12.5-16.0
Hematocrit - Last time 38.0; this time 35.8; normal range 37-47
My platelets were still good - last time 300; this time 345; normal range 150-450
Anyway, Nurse E didn't seem concerned. But she also didn't have much time to talk to me about what it meant. I see Dr. R before the next chemo on Dec 23rd so I guess I just need to write down questions and take them with me.
At any rate, I'm doing okay. We still have quite a bit to do around here to get ready for the kids' visit. But I'm doing my best not to stress over it. It will get done. Or it won't. Either way, it wll be great to have them here. I'm feeling better already, and I think I'm on the upswing now and so should feel better every day from now on (to the next chemo).
Okay. I'm going out to do an errand or two. It's a cold and beautiful day. Blue sky. Clouds. Sun. Wind.
Peace.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Tuesday morning
At last, Jessie and I made it to the park this morning. We went early, so early that once we got there, we sat in the car for a little while until a bit more sun peaked over the horizon. I know the park well, but I'm a little squeamish about walking its paths in the pitch dark. It was still very dark when we began, just a hint of pale yellow, eggshell they'd call it if it were paint, in the east. The pond was flat silver. The ducks were raucous. It was cold. A good walk.
I met Dr. V yesterday morning, the radiologist in charge of that portion of my treatment. I liked him. I think he may be Dutch or Scandinavian by birth, a very slight accent and a somewhat formal demeanor. I felt that of all the doctors I've seen so far, he gave the clearest explanation of both the reasons for the treatment I am receiving and what to expect from the portion of the treatment he is responsible for. On some level it sounds like the 5 weeks of radiation will be less invasive and debilitating than the chemo. However, his clarity was somewhat sobering. He discussed not only the potential "acute" side effects - short-term things like fatigue, changes in bladder and bowel, etc. - but also the possible long-term effects - that the changes in bladder and bowel could be permanent, the possibility of a bowel obstruction that could require surgery to correct. All small risks - less than 5%. But I've discovered that when YOU area red or black space on the cancer roulette wheel, 5% sounds like a lot.
I have an appointment the first week in January for a "planning" session. They will do an abdominal CT scan to figure out where everything inside of me is actually located, and tattoo some marks on my abdomen that will be the targets for the radiation treatments. I learned that I will not need internal radiation (e.g., through the vagina) only external. Apparently internal radiation is used where there is some indication of cancer having affected the cervix or lower uterus. Dr. V said that as there was no indication of that in my case, I won't need internal radiation. Since the idea of it kind of creeped me out, I'm glad about that.
I've been finding myself thinking about the longer term effects of all this on one's life, of how once you have been diagnosed with "cancer," you can't undo that ever again and go back to being what you were before. It's like losing your virginity. You're a virgin. Until you're not, ever again. One day of your life, you don't have cancer. Then you do have it or have had it. If things go well, you become a "cancer survivor" and that's what you are the rest of your life. But you can't ever go back to being someone for whom cancer was - at most - someone else's issue (maybe a loved one's problem, or a friend's). Of course almost everyone KNOWS someone who has cancer or has had it - but I'm learning the space between that and being the one who has/has had it is not small. I recall Dr. M saying that once all this treatment is done, I'll be going to see him every 3 months for at least 2 years.
I was thinking yesterday during my evening walk with Jessie about paying attention, about the fact that cancer makes you pay attention to the present, to your life right now as it exists. No more half-attention, where you're kind of thinking about what you have to deal with today, but you're also thinking about tomorrow, next week, next year - either worrying about the future or hoping for the future. Cancer strips that away and demands that you pay attention to your life in the moment you are living it. Which is good. Because really there isn't anything else, not really. So maybe this is a gift that cancer might bring - the gift of reminding me to pay attention and live, now, not later, now.
Okay, the sun is up. It's supposed to be a nice but cold day before a storm comes in tonight, bringing snow, sleet, freezing rain. So I'm off to start my day.
Peace.
I met Dr. V yesterday morning, the radiologist in charge of that portion of my treatment. I liked him. I think he may be Dutch or Scandinavian by birth, a very slight accent and a somewhat formal demeanor. I felt that of all the doctors I've seen so far, he gave the clearest explanation of both the reasons for the treatment I am receiving and what to expect from the portion of the treatment he is responsible for. On some level it sounds like the 5 weeks of radiation will be less invasive and debilitating than the chemo. However, his clarity was somewhat sobering. He discussed not only the potential "acute" side effects - short-term things like fatigue, changes in bladder and bowel, etc. - but also the possible long-term effects - that the changes in bladder and bowel could be permanent, the possibility of a bowel obstruction that could require surgery to correct. All small risks - less than 5%. But I've discovered that when YOU area red or black space on the cancer roulette wheel, 5% sounds like a lot.
I have an appointment the first week in January for a "planning" session. They will do an abdominal CT scan to figure out where everything inside of me is actually located, and tattoo some marks on my abdomen that will be the targets for the radiation treatments. I learned that I will not need internal radiation (e.g., through the vagina) only external. Apparently internal radiation is used where there is some indication of cancer having affected the cervix or lower uterus. Dr. V said that as there was no indication of that in my case, I won't need internal radiation. Since the idea of it kind of creeped me out, I'm glad about that.
I've been finding myself thinking about the longer term effects of all this on one's life, of how once you have been diagnosed with "cancer," you can't undo that ever again and go back to being what you were before. It's like losing your virginity. You're a virgin. Until you're not, ever again. One day of your life, you don't have cancer. Then you do have it or have had it. If things go well, you become a "cancer survivor" and that's what you are the rest of your life. But you can't ever go back to being someone for whom cancer was - at most - someone else's issue (maybe a loved one's problem, or a friend's). Of course almost everyone KNOWS someone who has cancer or has had it - but I'm learning the space between that and being the one who has/has had it is not small. I recall Dr. M saying that once all this treatment is done, I'll be going to see him every 3 months for at least 2 years.
I was thinking yesterday during my evening walk with Jessie about paying attention, about the fact that cancer makes you pay attention to the present, to your life right now as it exists. No more half-attention, where you're kind of thinking about what you have to deal with today, but you're also thinking about tomorrow, next week, next year - either worrying about the future or hoping for the future. Cancer strips that away and demands that you pay attention to your life in the moment you are living it. Which is good. Because really there isn't anything else, not really. So maybe this is a gift that cancer might bring - the gift of reminding me to pay attention and live, now, not later, now.
Okay, the sun is up. It's supposed to be a nice but cold day before a storm comes in tonight, bringing snow, sleet, freezing rain. So I'm off to start my day.
Peace.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Monday early morning
Well, Jessie and I didn't make it to the park yesterday (Sunday) morning. I wasn't feeling great and there wasn't much snow, just a sprinkling but enough to have made some icy sidewalks. I decided to stick close to home. I did make it to K's baby shower with J on Saturday afternoon. We didn't stay until the end, but I think it meant a lot to K that we came. I was glad to be able to go.
One thing I learned this weekend is that the "bad" weekend I had after my first chemo was not all related to the constipation-diarrhea-vomiting-cramps phenomenon. That weekend, too, I must have also been experiencing the beginnings of the side effects of the chemo, they were just masked by how sick I felt from the other. So this past weekend, without the masking, I learned that the chemo (plus the NuLasta shot, hard to tell what side effects come from what) makes me very tired, somewhat shaky (like when you have low blood sugar), the steroids make me feel hungry all the time but not really knowing what I want to eat. Probably the most significant "side effect" was how tired I felt. I had (still am having) some bone pain, but it hasn't been debilitating. I found myself on edge, though, worrying about side effects from the drugs they give you to deal with chemo side effects (for example, there are some serious potential side effects of the NuLasta shot). It's like circles within circles. You put off worrying about the effect of the chemo by taking another drug, only to worry about its effect.
I did have a lovely long talk with my daughter and also spoke with both V and H this weekend. And, in any event, despite the tiredness, bone pain and shakiness, I did quite a lot. David and I are still cleaning up the apartment in preparation for the kids coming. I actually went through my bedroom closet - how often does one do that - including a bunch of old bills and other paper I had stored in there. I did a couple loads of laundry and went to the store. Given that I didn't feel great, actually I got a lot done.
Today I have my "meet and greet" with Dr. V, my radiologist. I have 2 main goals: first, to confirm that I can set the radiology appointments for late in the day, which is the advice I've been given by those who've gone through radiation (it makes you tired; do it at the end of your day so you can go home and collapse). Late in the day will also let me work every day before the appointment. Second goal, to find out at least approximately when it will start - is there a 3 week break between my 3rd chemo on Dec 23 and the start of the radiation? This matters only because it gives me some sense of how long this whole thing is going to last.
Maybe it's just the ebb and flow of the whole treatment process, but going through chemo #2 and at least the beginnings of its side effects, I have felt a little depressed again. I find myself worrying about the cumulative effects of the whole treatment process. Perhaps these feelings are stirred up partly by the fact that my hair is almost gone now. All that's left is some patches of grey fuzz, but rubbing off in places so there are balding spots. My poor skull seems such a symbol of the accumulation of the effects of the chemo. I worry about being able to bounce back from each treatment. It seemed like I was more tired this time than after chemo #1, and I worry that by the end, I'll be so tired I won't be able to do anything. I even worry in the back of my little mind - what if this doesn't "cure" me and this becomes a way of life for years to come.
But I'm not freaking out. I'm really okay. These are just feelings I'm having. They poke their little noses up in my consciousness along side of my feelings of anticipation about the kids' visit, about spending a week with my grandson, about the glorious full moon we had last week, through which I walked Jessie in the dusk and saw the sky turn almost green across the horizon shading to blue and black above, stars coming out, bare tree limbs like lace.
I am doing okay.
Peace.
One thing I learned this weekend is that the "bad" weekend I had after my first chemo was not all related to the constipation-diarrhea-vomiting-cramps phenomenon. That weekend, too, I must have also been experiencing the beginnings of the side effects of the chemo, they were just masked by how sick I felt from the other. So this past weekend, without the masking, I learned that the chemo (plus the NuLasta shot, hard to tell what side effects come from what) makes me very tired, somewhat shaky (like when you have low blood sugar), the steroids make me feel hungry all the time but not really knowing what I want to eat. Probably the most significant "side effect" was how tired I felt. I had (still am having) some bone pain, but it hasn't been debilitating. I found myself on edge, though, worrying about side effects from the drugs they give you to deal with chemo side effects (for example, there are some serious potential side effects of the NuLasta shot). It's like circles within circles. You put off worrying about the effect of the chemo by taking another drug, only to worry about its effect.
I did have a lovely long talk with my daughter and also spoke with both V and H this weekend. And, in any event, despite the tiredness, bone pain and shakiness, I did quite a lot. David and I are still cleaning up the apartment in preparation for the kids coming. I actually went through my bedroom closet - how often does one do that - including a bunch of old bills and other paper I had stored in there. I did a couple loads of laundry and went to the store. Given that I didn't feel great, actually I got a lot done.
Today I have my "meet and greet" with Dr. V, my radiologist. I have 2 main goals: first, to confirm that I can set the radiology appointments for late in the day, which is the advice I've been given by those who've gone through radiation (it makes you tired; do it at the end of your day so you can go home and collapse). Late in the day will also let me work every day before the appointment. Second goal, to find out at least approximately when it will start - is there a 3 week break between my 3rd chemo on Dec 23 and the start of the radiation? This matters only because it gives me some sense of how long this whole thing is going to last.
Maybe it's just the ebb and flow of the whole treatment process, but going through chemo #2 and at least the beginnings of its side effects, I have felt a little depressed again. I find myself worrying about the cumulative effects of the whole treatment process. Perhaps these feelings are stirred up partly by the fact that my hair is almost gone now. All that's left is some patches of grey fuzz, but rubbing off in places so there are balding spots. My poor skull seems such a symbol of the accumulation of the effects of the chemo. I worry about being able to bounce back from each treatment. It seemed like I was more tired this time than after chemo #1, and I worry that by the end, I'll be so tired I won't be able to do anything. I even worry in the back of my little mind - what if this doesn't "cure" me and this becomes a way of life for years to come.
But I'm not freaking out. I'm really okay. These are just feelings I'm having. They poke their little noses up in my consciousness along side of my feelings of anticipation about the kids' visit, about spending a week with my grandson, about the glorious full moon we had last week, through which I walked Jessie in the dusk and saw the sky turn almost green across the horizon shading to blue and black above, stars coming out, bare tree limbs like lace.
I am doing okay.
Peace.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Saturday morning
We didn't make it to the park for a walk today, Jessie and I - in fact, we haven't been in some time. Maybe tomorrow. There's supposed to be snow tonight, ending in the morning. As long as it isn't too icy, it might actually be lovely to see the park in its first garment of white.
But today I didn't feel up to it. I went in to the office yesterday, and I think accomplished what I needed to. But by the time I got home, I was really worn out. Also my eating habits seemed all screwed up. I kept thinking I wanted to eat something - a breakfast sandwich, a cup of coffee, and trying to and then not really feeling like it. I did finally have a cup of soup for lunch. When I got home around 2:00, I was really wiped out. We ended up going to Whole Foods to buy take out dinner early, around 5:30 - mine was a weird combination of a cup of chicken soup, a scoop of mashed potatoes, and an Indian fried vegetable dough thingy. I did have some bone/joint pain, and I took 1 Motrin about 6:00 and that dealt with the worst of it. Then I slept on the couch from 6:30 where I ended up staying so until 4:30 in the morning. I was having a little nausea and sleeping on the couch with my head elevated seemed to help that. I was able to avoid taking the Compazine anti-nausea med that I took last time (that contributed to my constipation-diarrhea fiasco). At 4:30 I woke up and got in the bed.
When David got home around 6:15, I woke up feeling somewhat better. I took Jessie for a walk in the neighborhood, and was able to eat something. But I still feel a little shaky, weak, tired. Not terrible. Just ... not quite right. But so far I haven't had to take another Motrin; my hips and knees ache, but so far at least no worse than on a bad arthritis day (which, as a matter of fact, this day might be since a storm is on its way, first rain turning to snow.)
Well, I may go stick my head back in a book. And likely sleep even more. I am hoping to feel well enough to go to the baby shower for my young friend from work, K, this afternoon, but I'm still uncertain about that. Maybe a little more rest...
Peace.
But today I didn't feel up to it. I went in to the office yesterday, and I think accomplished what I needed to. But by the time I got home, I was really worn out. Also my eating habits seemed all screwed up. I kept thinking I wanted to eat something - a breakfast sandwich, a cup of coffee, and trying to and then not really feeling like it. I did finally have a cup of soup for lunch. When I got home around 2:00, I was really wiped out. We ended up going to Whole Foods to buy take out dinner early, around 5:30 - mine was a weird combination of a cup of chicken soup, a scoop of mashed potatoes, and an Indian fried vegetable dough thingy. I did have some bone/joint pain, and I took 1 Motrin about 6:00 and that dealt with the worst of it. Then I slept on the couch from 6:30 where I ended up staying so until 4:30 in the morning. I was having a little nausea and sleeping on the couch with my head elevated seemed to help that. I was able to avoid taking the Compazine anti-nausea med that I took last time (that contributed to my constipation-diarrhea fiasco). At 4:30 I woke up and got in the bed.
When David got home around 6:15, I woke up feeling somewhat better. I took Jessie for a walk in the neighborhood, and was able to eat something. But I still feel a little shaky, weak, tired. Not terrible. Just ... not quite right. But so far I haven't had to take another Motrin; my hips and knees ache, but so far at least no worse than on a bad arthritis day (which, as a matter of fact, this day might be since a storm is on its way, first rain turning to snow.)
Well, I may go stick my head back in a book. And likely sleep even more. I am hoping to feel well enough to go to the baby shower for my young friend from work, K, this afternoon, but I'm still uncertain about that. Maybe a little more rest...
Peace.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Thursday early evening
I went in to the office to work today; that went well. If I'm feeling okay, I may go in again tomorrow (with the thought that next week is likely to be the week when the chemo side effects are most engaged).
I found a wool scarf that I have had for 25 years or so - it was a gift to me from a good friend and neighbor in NYC - GFM, who was also my son's 4th grade teacher - she brought it back to me as a gift from a trip she took in the 1980s to the Soviet Union. I am not a great scarf wearer - at least up until now - and I wore this scarf only a few times (around my neck) over the years, but kept it because I liked the print but more because GFM gave it to me. This morning I took it out and tried it as a head covering. It worked well; I found it cooler to wear inside (the office in this case) than the hats I have. So anyway, I wore the scarf to work today and it felt good, sort of more office-like than a hat. But mostly just more comfortable because of being cooler. I really didn't think I would like wearing scarves as head coverings, but maybe I will. I am going to order a couple more cotton ones from the Cancer Society catalog that they gave me at the Cancer Center.
I got my NuLasta shot this afternoon. Shouldn't really start with the bone pain side effects until later tomorrow or tomorrow evening.
I find I am tired. Perhaps just a busy day - at work, then to the Cancer Center, and then errands. Perhaps also some effects of the Chemo and the related drugs they gave me yesterday before the Chemo and the anti-nausea and steroids I have to take today (and the net couple of days). Anyway, I think I'll sleep well tonight.
Another nice thing that happened today was that I had a call at work from a friend, TDJ, who used to work in our group but was laid off some time ago. We've stayed in periodic touch. Interestingly she told me that for the past few days or week I've been strongly on her mind and she felt the need to talk to me. So we caught up. (Several years ago, while TDJ worked with us, she had to undergo brain surgery to have a tumor - which Thank God proved to be benign -- removed from her brain. We were always friends, but I think we became closer during that time, while she recovered and then when she returned to work. She certainly has a sense of what I"m going through. It was good to talk to her.)
I would be looking forward to the cooler weather they say is coming this weekend if I didn't know that sooner or later it will become true winter weather with its panoply of snow, ice an sleet, especially dreaded ice.
Peace.
I found a wool scarf that I have had for 25 years or so - it was a gift to me from a good friend and neighbor in NYC - GFM, who was also my son's 4th grade teacher - she brought it back to me as a gift from a trip she took in the 1980s to the Soviet Union. I am not a great scarf wearer - at least up until now - and I wore this scarf only a few times (around my neck) over the years, but kept it because I liked the print but more because GFM gave it to me. This morning I took it out and tried it as a head covering. It worked well; I found it cooler to wear inside (the office in this case) than the hats I have. So anyway, I wore the scarf to work today and it felt good, sort of more office-like than a hat. But mostly just more comfortable because of being cooler. I really didn't think I would like wearing scarves as head coverings, but maybe I will. I am going to order a couple more cotton ones from the Cancer Society catalog that they gave me at the Cancer Center.
I got my NuLasta shot this afternoon. Shouldn't really start with the bone pain side effects until later tomorrow or tomorrow evening.
I find I am tired. Perhaps just a busy day - at work, then to the Cancer Center, and then errands. Perhaps also some effects of the Chemo and the related drugs they gave me yesterday before the Chemo and the anti-nausea and steroids I have to take today (and the net couple of days). Anyway, I think I'll sleep well tonight.
Another nice thing that happened today was that I had a call at work from a friend, TDJ, who used to work in our group but was laid off some time ago. We've stayed in periodic touch. Interestingly she told me that for the past few days or week I've been strongly on her mind and she felt the need to talk to me. So we caught up. (Several years ago, while TDJ worked with us, she had to undergo brain surgery to have a tumor - which Thank God proved to be benign -- removed from her brain. We were always friends, but I think we became closer during that time, while she recovered and then when she returned to work. She certainly has a sense of what I"m going through. It was good to talk to her.)
I would be looking forward to the cooler weather they say is coming this weekend if I didn't know that sooner or later it will become true winter weather with its panoply of snow, ice an sleet, especially dreaded ice.
Peace.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Wednesday evening - 2 down...
Chemo went well. Okay, in order:
First - as always - I got weighed. I gained back almost 3 pounds. ( My guess is that's the weight I lost over the horrible weekend of not eating, vomiting and having diarrhea - not real legitimate weight loss. I'm fine with it.) Then blood work. Then meeting with Doctor R, with whom I went over the past 3 weeks since Chemo #1 and told her all the details. I really like her. She was determined that I should not have the horrible experience dealing with taking the necessary drugs -- chemo, anti-nausea and pain pills - and then suffer constipation from those and then suffer worse from the so-called cure for that. So now I'm taking as a prophylactic a much gentler plant-based laxative (took one tonight). She prescribed some sort of awful sweet liquid that I have to "swish and spit" several times a day because she feels I'm developing a slight yeast infection in my mouth, apparently another common side effect. And she wants to hear if I experience any numbness in my hands and feet (I did last time - in 3 fingers and a couple toes on my left side, but it went away after a few days). Apparently this can be serious and even permanent.
Then I had chemo. No surprises - except that I had a another turkey sandwich for lunch and while it was good, fine - it wasn't out of this world as it was last time. It could be that I didn't eat it last time until 2:30 and this time I was included in the first round of lunch serving - at about 12:30.
V drove me to the appointment (oh - before that, my lovely son called me this morning to say hello and send love before the chemo - that was nice). H came and sat with me for a couple of hours from around 10 or 10:30 until noon at least. And David picked me up. I was able to go to the office holiday dinner tonight I did not east like a horse, but i ate well and the food was good - I just skipped the dessert which wasn't particularly inviting, at least to me.
So that was my day. Tomorrow I go in at 2:30 for the NuLasta shot. I'm really really hoping the pain is manageable this time with just Motrin. I want to go to the baby shower for K on Saturday with J and Kim from work.
I'm feeling okay. I'm tired. I think I will sleep very well tonight.
I send love to each of you reading this.
And peace.
First - as always - I got weighed. I gained back almost 3 pounds. ( My guess is that's the weight I lost over the horrible weekend of not eating, vomiting and having diarrhea - not real legitimate weight loss. I'm fine with it.) Then blood work. Then meeting with Doctor R, with whom I went over the past 3 weeks since Chemo #1 and told her all the details. I really like her. She was determined that I should not have the horrible experience dealing with taking the necessary drugs -- chemo, anti-nausea and pain pills - and then suffer constipation from those and then suffer worse from the so-called cure for that. So now I'm taking as a prophylactic a much gentler plant-based laxative (took one tonight). She prescribed some sort of awful sweet liquid that I have to "swish and spit" several times a day because she feels I'm developing a slight yeast infection in my mouth, apparently another common side effect. And she wants to hear if I experience any numbness in my hands and feet (I did last time - in 3 fingers and a couple toes on my left side, but it went away after a few days). Apparently this can be serious and even permanent.
Then I had chemo. No surprises - except that I had a another turkey sandwich for lunch and while it was good, fine - it wasn't out of this world as it was last time. It could be that I didn't eat it last time until 2:30 and this time I was included in the first round of lunch serving - at about 12:30.
V drove me to the appointment (oh - before that, my lovely son called me this morning to say hello and send love before the chemo - that was nice). H came and sat with me for a couple of hours from around 10 or 10:30 until noon at least. And David picked me up. I was able to go to the office holiday dinner tonight I did not east like a horse, but i ate well and the food was good - I just skipped the dessert which wasn't particularly inviting, at least to me.
So that was my day. Tomorrow I go in at 2:30 for the NuLasta shot. I'm really really hoping the pain is manageable this time with just Motrin. I want to go to the baby shower for K on Saturday with J and Kim from work.
I'm feeling okay. I'm tired. I think I will sleep very well tonight.
I send love to each of you reading this.
And peace.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Wednesday morning - pre-Chemo
Just a quick note before I go off for my second chemo. I'm doing okay. I had a good day yesterday - still shedding like a maniac, very little fuzz left up there. I worked my 1/2 day both Monday & Tuesday, Monday in the office, and Tuesday from home - and especially Tuesday was very productive. That felt good. Yesterday I learned that before the Chemo today, I see Dr. R, the medical oncologist. Apparently Nurse E told me this and I missed it. I'll be meeting with Dr. R before every Chemo. I took my Decadron last night at 10:00 (way past my new "normal" bedtime) and at 5:00 am this morning (just slightly earlier than my new "normal" wake up time). My daughter called to check on me yesterday. V is dropping me off at the Cancer Center, H is dropping by to visit with me there after her own doctor's appointment, and David will pick me up. I am feeling well loved and supported.
Tonight is my office holiday dinner. Nurse E thinks I'll be very ready to eat from all the steroids. If nausea stays at bay, I would agree with her.
Now I'm off to find something to eat so I can take my morning magnesium.
All is well with me. Now if we could just have world peace, address global warming, eliminate poverty and aids, and enjoy equality and justice everywhere.
Peace.
Tonight is my office holiday dinner. Nurse E thinks I'll be very ready to eat from all the steroids. If nausea stays at bay, I would agree with her.
Now I'm off to find something to eat so I can take my morning magnesium.
All is well with me. Now if we could just have world peace, address global warming, eliminate poverty and aids, and enjoy equality and justice everywhere.
Peace.
Tuesday 2:39 AM
Trying to stay honest here so when I look back at this experience, I'll remember that everything wasn't roses and sunshine all the time.
It's the middle of the night. I woke up and am having a hard time going back to sleep. Of course, I fell asleep on the couch between 9:30 and 10:00 p.m., woke up about midnight, got in bed, slept again, so I've already slept 5 or more hour. I'm certainly not in any physical pain or even discomfort, and no terrible specific thoughts or fears are suddenly weighing on me - just general malaise, about losing my hair, about the next chemo and potential side effects. I'd say half of the buzz cut fuzz I had on Friday has now fallen out; I'm shedding short grey hairs like pine needles fall from a dead Christmas tree. My skull is left with what looks like a kind of fuzzy greyish coating, not really "hair." (By the way, going to work was fine; my "haircut" was admired by those with whom I shared it.) I also went to Tai Chi on Monday night, and shared with my class my circumstances. I've been in the class with most of the people for almost 2 years; they were very supportive. I told them not to get too fond of my new "hair style" since I'm shedding it rapidly and it will likely be gone the next time I see them.
Basically, everything is okay. I'm just having a little middle-of-the-night angst.
I'm going to get a drink of water and listen to a little music on my iPod.
Peace.
It's the middle of the night. I woke up and am having a hard time going back to sleep. Of course, I fell asleep on the couch between 9:30 and 10:00 p.m., woke up about midnight, got in bed, slept again, so I've already slept 5 or more hour. I'm certainly not in any physical pain or even discomfort, and no terrible specific thoughts or fears are suddenly weighing on me - just general malaise, about losing my hair, about the next chemo and potential side effects. I'd say half of the buzz cut fuzz I had on Friday has now fallen out; I'm shedding short grey hairs like pine needles fall from a dead Christmas tree. My skull is left with what looks like a kind of fuzzy greyish coating, not really "hair." (By the way, going to work was fine; my "haircut" was admired by those with whom I shared it.) I also went to Tai Chi on Monday night, and shared with my class my circumstances. I've been in the class with most of the people for almost 2 years; they were very supportive. I told them not to get too fond of my new "hair style" since I'm shedding it rapidly and it will likely be gone the next time I see them.
Basically, everything is okay. I'm just having a little middle-of-the-night angst.
I'm going to get a drink of water and listen to a little music on my iPod.
Peace.
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