Chemo--AC Round 1 of 4

I have officially started my AC Treatments

On Friday, January 24, 2014, I had my first of four AC treatments.  I have been dreading the day I started AC as everyone warned me it would not be as easy as Taxol.  I had hopes I would be the exception to the rule; but I also had fears my luck was going to run out with this type of chemo.

My son, Scott, took me to my appointment.  As always, he's my rock who never lets me down.  When I arrived, I first met with my oncologist as I will do before each chemo appointment now.  AC is tougher on your so the doctor likes to see you before each treatment rather than once per month as it was with the Taxol.  While meeting with my doctor, she gave me two options for nausea control while receiving AC treatments.  One would include a steroid shot the day of treatment as well as each day after treatment for three or four days.  The other option would include an oral steroid at the time of infusion, begin taking Zyprexa at night the day after treatment and continue for four days as well as taking Compazine every 6 hours after treatment.  I chose the later choice as anyone who has read my blog knows, I hate the steroid shots.  Unfortunately, this choice may not have been the wisest of choices for me.  I have battled nausea and vomiting since I left the treatment facility.  

I was nervous at the time of treatment because I didn't know what to expect this time.  AC treatments are definitely a lot more involved than Taxol.  My IV didn't give me fits this week (thank goodness).  After getting settled in my treatment bed (yes, bed--and I didn't complain.  Since I didn't know what to expect, I figured a bed was a good idea), my nurse came in to explain my treatment process for the day.   AC stands for doxorubicin (Adriamycin), and cyclophosphamide (Cytoxan) with each letter being it's own drug.  The A (Adriamycin) is given via push injection into your IV by your chemo nurse, and it's red in color.  It's quite overwhelming to look at.  The C (Cytoxan) is given via an IV bag solution.  Below is a photo of the Adriamycin I took before my treatment began.  And for anyone wondering, yes, it makes your pee RED.  Thankfully, they warned me this would happen or there is a good chance I would have been scared to death when I saw red pee in the toilet.  

I had several pre-medications I had to take orally before my treatment began.  I have no idea what each of them did, but I know they all left me feeling a little strange.  While the Adriamycin was being pushed, the nurse kept asking me if my IV felt okay and checking my IV site.  This was to ensure my IV hadn't penetrated my vein allowing the chemo to enter my body outside the vein itself.  I could feel myself getting sleepy, and when I tried to carry on a conversation, I felt drunk.  As if I wasn't in control of the words coming out of my mouth.  

Finally, I was done, and it was time to head home.  While receiving Taxol treatments, I didn't understand why they made such a fuss about needing a driver and me not driving.  I always felt fine when I left. However, I now understand why.  This chemo leaves you feeling drunk, and there was no way I could have driven myself home.  Thankfully, I had Scottie there to drive me home (it's a two hour drive).  I think I might have slept most of the ride home because I don't remember much of it.  I immediately changed my clothes when I got home and planted myself on the couch.  It wasn't long before I was out and completely oblivious to the world around me.  I woke up to take my medications and that's about it.  I remember going to the kitchen to get myself water and something to eat, and I had to go back to the couch and lay down.  I was dizzy and my stomach was very upset.  I went to bed hoping sleep would be the cure.  I took a bowl to my bedroom with me just in case whatever was left in my stomach decided to make its way back out.

I awoke early Saturday morning feeling very sick.  I grabbed my bowl and headed for the bathroom.  After a few seconds, I began dry heaving followed by throwing up.  Since there was very little on my stomach (I had slept more than I had ate), not much came up; but enough was there to let me know this type of chemo wasn't going to be as easy as the Taxol had been.  After throwing up, I felt somewhat better.  I asked my husband to get me some chicken broth in hopes I could get some liquid on my stomach and the warm broth would help with another issue I was facing--constipation.  Sorry if you don't want to know about that; but I am trying to ensure I provide useful information to anyone else going through this nightmare.  So I'm putting it out there.  

I could tell by the way I felt one of my biggest issues was constipation.  I should have made sure that wasn't an issue before I even went for treatment, and I hadn't.  I was now paying the price.  I took 3 Fleet tablets in hopes they would work quickly.  As the day progressed, I felt worse, and the tablets hadn't changed a thing.  My stomach was hurting so badly I couldn't stand up straight to walk to the bathroom.  I sent my husband to the grocery store for some groceries, and I text him while he was there to pick up some lemon flavored Saline Laxative. Yeah, it's gross; but it works, and when you're desperate, you don't care!  I ended up having to drink the entire bottle before I got relief.  I highly recommend anyone going through AC treatment to stock up on this stuff.  It might save you!  

Eventually, I began feeling so sick I knew I was going to throw up again.  I headed for the bathroom and sat there melting through a hot flash, my stomach cramping, and fighting dry heaves.  Praying to God to help me find relief.  Finally, I began throwing up, which was a relief at this point.  I filled a large mixing bowl half way up.  Thankfully, it was mostly all liquid.  Then the relief came from the other direction as well--the saline solution had worked. Thank you Jolene for the awesome advice.  I wouldn't have known to get it without you!  I continued to feel sick as the night progressed, but not as bad as I had up until I threw up.  I gave up and went to bed at 8 p.m.

I awoke this morning feeling nauseous and sick; but tolerable.  Comparable to how you feel when you get car sick.  I've carried this feeling most all of today; but I will take this over being as sick as I was yesterday.  I called my doctor today to let her know I had thrown up as they want to know these things.  She is calling me in another prescription to take for nausea.  I'm to stop taking the Zyprexa as I can't seem to tolerate it.  I took it as instructed, and I'm certain it contributed to my being so sick!  On a final note, after this treatment, I am noticing I cannot taste certain foods, or things I loved no longer taste good.  For example, I always use the strawberry kiwi drink mix in my bottled water.  I can't stand the taste of it now.  I have found I can still drink Gatorade and the pink lemonade drink mixes though.  Hopefully, that doesn't change because it's the only way I can get enough liquids in my body!

In spite of all of this, I am thankful for a God who has watched over me and kept me so healthy.  As bad as things were yesterday, God heard my prayers and he did provide relief.  For that, I am thankful.  Before going to bed last night, I opened my Bible to a random place and began reading.  I opened it to Psalm 103.  I highly recommend this to anyone going through this ordeal as it brought tears to my eyes and made me realize that even in my weakest moments, my God is watching over me and wants me to have faith in him.

Psalm 103

Of David.

¹ Praise the Lord, my soul;
    all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
² Praise the Lord, my soul,
    and forget not all his benefits—
³ who forgives all your sins
    and heals all your diseases,
⁴ who redeems your life from the pit
    and crowns you with love and compassion,
⁵ who satisfies your desires with good things
    so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

⁶ The Lord works righteousness
    and justice for all the oppressed.

⁷ He made known his ways to Moses,
    his deeds to the people of Israel:
⁸ The Lord is compassionate and gracious,
    slow to anger, abounding in love.
⁹ He will not always accuse,
    nor will he harbor his anger forever;
¹⁰ he does not treat us as our sins deserve
    or repay us according to our iniquities.
¹¹ For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
    so great is his love for those who fear him;
¹² as far as the east is from the west,
    so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

¹³ As a father has compassion on his children,
    so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;
¹⁴ for he knows how we are formed,
    he remembers that we are dust.
¹⁵ The life of mortals is like grass,
    they flourish like a flower of the field;
¹⁶ the wind blows over it and it is gone,
    and its place remembers it no more.
¹⁷ But from everlasting to everlasting
    the Lord’s love is with those who fear him,
    and his righteousness with their children’s children—
¹⁸ with those who keep his covenant
    and remember to obey his precepts.

¹⁹ The Lord has established his throne in heaven,
    and his kingdom rules over all.

²⁰ Praise the Lord, you his angels,
    you mighty ones who do his bidding,
    who obey his word.
²¹ Praise the Lord, all his heavenly hosts,
    you his servants who do his will.
²² Praise the Lord, all his works
    everywhere in his dominion.

Praise the Lord, my soul.

Upcoming AC Chemo--I'm Nervous

I'm Nervous!

It's been one week and four days since I last had poison (aka chemo) pumped into my body.  I feel pretty good with the exception of my legs aching.  I had hoped to have a normal week this week free from this incessant aching; but it would seem that particular side effect sticks around much longer.  I googled this, and, unfortunately, many patients complained of this bone pain for years after their treatments were over.  I am finding some people found the pain subsided gradually after the chemo ended while others found some damage from the chemo was permanent.  I am praying mine is simply a result of accumulative chemo for the past 12 weeks.  The bone pain (while it's everywhere, mine is primarily in my legs) wasn't too bad in the beginning, but as I've had more and more treatments, I have found the pain has increased.  It has reached an almost unbearable point at times.  As strange as it sounds, my shins ache so bad they literally feel as as if they are going to break when I step out of bed or stand up.  

I start my second type of chemotherapy on Friday, January 24, 2014.  Although I have completed 12 rounds of Taxol, I am getting very nervous about starting the AC.  I've read horror stories about how hard AC is compared to Taxol and many of my breast cancer sisters have told me how difficult it is.  I was nervous about starting chemo in the first place because I didn't know what to expect; but I can honestly say I'm even more nervous this time around.  One would think I would be a little more comfortable with it at this point; but I'm really worried about how I will react to this particular type.  I feel I was very fortunate to have handled the Taxol so well, and I fear I won't do nearly as well on the AC.  I remind myself I need to have faith in God to hold me up and stop stressing so much; but it's very hard to keep the fear out of my mind.  As I've mentioned before, I have to give myself Neulasta shots the day after my AC treatments.  I'm told the Neulasta itself can cause bone pain because it boosts your white blood counts and bone marrow.  When the bone marrow expands, it causes bone pain.  So, this is great (hint of sarcasm) news since the pain is already unbearable; but I will find a way to get through it.

On another note, I was excited to head to work today as I felt good other than my legs aching.  I was almost finished getting ready when I decided to head outside and start my car so it could warm up.  When I walked onto my front porch, I was shocked to see so much snow.  While I knew they were calling for snow, I never believe it anymore as they generally get it wrong.  As my feet hit the top step, my legs went flying one direction; and my arms went the other way.  I wish I had a camera on the front porch as it had to be comical.  Unfortunately, I landed on my left side (my breast cancer side).  Instinct led to me trying to catch myself with my arms/hands, and my left arm is still weak from my Sentinal Node Biopsy surgery in October.  

Every week before I begin chemo, they always ask me if I've had any falls that week.  This Friday will be the first appointment I've had to say "yes", and it frustrates me.  I feel like I've failed at not having any issues that may conflict with treatment.  I spent the majority of the day nursing an aching arm and sore spot on my leg.  I've been warned that a fall can be a serious issue when you're getting chemo as a blood clot can easily form from a fall that would otherwise be nothing.  Needless to say, I've been checking my leg and arm constantly.  My arm hurts worse than my leg at this point.  More than anything, my pride hurts!  Since the porch was that slick and the roads were completely snow covered, I figured that was my sign and went back in the house--opting to stay home today.  All I need is to wreck my car and have no way to get to treatments.  

On a positive note, one of my breast cancer sisters had her mastectomy surgery today.  I've been thinking of her and praying for her all day.  Her surgery began at 10 am this morning; and she didn't finish until 5:30 p.m.  Her husband has kept me alerted of her progress all day, and I'm happy to say her doctor reported no lymph node involvement in either side.  Her surgery went well, and she is now in recovery.  I'm thinking of her tonight, and I pray she is as comfortable as possible and not in too much pain.  Please say a prayer for her tonight and over the next few days for comfort.

 

My Warning From The Other Side About Breast Cancer

Do You Believe In Ghost or Angels? 

I believe there are times our loved ones who have passed from this Earth are able to communicate with us if they wish to.  If you want to look at them as ghost or as angels, that's up to you.  My point is, they do try to communicate with us if we choose to take notice.  I went to the doctor in August 2013 because my lump had grown and was making itself very obvious.  Prior to that, I had noticed it, but I hadn't thought much about it.  I have always had various lumps in my breast due to cyst, so I simply didn't give it much thought.  I wasn't walking around stressing or thinking much about it.  But, SOMEONE, was trying to get my attention and make me notice.  This blog is to simply acknowledge what happened and the warning I was given but didn't make sense until I looked back. 

In July 2013, I took my youngest daughter, Makya, to Savannah, GA.  I had stopped in Savannah with all three of my children in 2011 on our way to Disney World, and me and my daughter Makya had fallen in love with the historical charm of Savannah.  We are both huge history and ghost hunting buffs.  The area in general spoke to us both.  None of the others were interested in returning as they simply didn't see the charm that we saw.  Therefore, I went back with Makya so the two of us could enjoy it without feeling as if we were torturing everyone else with something they didn't have an interest in. 

Makya and I were excited to spend some time on Tybee Island beach as well as walk the streets of Savannah exploring all the historical sites in the city.  Savannah has a rich history full of stories sure to appeal to anyone with the least bit of interest in history itself.  Makya and I soaked up every story during the day.  At night, we enjoyed the ghost tours and spooky tales that were spun.  One tour we signed up for was particularly interesting to us both.  We both enjoy watching Ghost Hunters and other shows where they "ghost hunt" and attempt to communicate with those who have passed.  While we both believe there is a certain amount of story telling involved, there is also a bit of truth as well.  The Paranormal Experience we signed up for allowed guests to use ghost hunting equipment such as a voice box.  A voice box scans radio signals, eliminates the static and single words or phrases come through.  No, it's not a single person sitting in a room just talking to you through this box.  You can hear it continuously scanning stations, and the voices are not always the same voices. 

This particular tour took place in what is now a warehouse.  This ware house was the site of several homes in the late 1800's.  One home in particular belonged to a mother who lived there with her deaf daughter.  She rented the other bedroom to a woman who had previously left her husband.  It is rumored her husband was physically abusive.  I am referring to the Gribble House in Savannah, GA.  You can look up the story behind this if you like.  We were "locked in" for 4 hours in this warehouse.  Me and my daughter were the other two guests with our guide, so we were quite excited!  I paid for this tour with cash, and they were only given my first name of Teresa.  They did not want any further information. 

Upon entering the first area of the warehouse with the guide, a voice immediately came through the voice box that said "Boo".  The guide laughed and said "Boo to you too" thinking the spirit communicating with us was being cute.  My daughter and I looked at each other shocked.  I said "You don't understand.  Boo is my daughter's nickname".  The guide was shocked.  It was as if they couldn't wait to begin communicating.  Through the night, we asked various questions, but at random times through the entire night, my name kept coming through very persistent and as if they were yelling to get my attention "Teresa!".  Finally, near the end of the night, I said "Why do you keep saying my name.  Are you trying to tell me something?".  Makya was using the recorder on her phone, so some of this she has as a recording on her phone. 

The response to my question truly shook me.  The response that came back was clear.  The response was "I'm scared for you".  I asked why, but each time a response tried to come through, a strange interference would cover up what was being said.  The guide became uncomfortable, and our tour was over.  She said she felt it was time to end the tour.  It was clear to me she was scared too.  I had been having numbness in my right hand from time to time, and I thought that was the issue at hand.  I promised to go to the doctor and get it checked out.  Honestly, that is the issue that resulted in me making an appointment for myself.  I was at an appointment for my hand when my doctor asked me if there was anything else I needed while I was there, and I said "well, I do have this lump you should check out.  It's probably just another cyst....". 

When my daughter and I got back to the hotel room after the tour, we listened to the recording on her phone.  We didn't hear it in the moment, but after we heard "I'm scared for you" and I had asked why, one of the responses was "Florence".  That made no sense to me at the time.  Florence is my aunt, my mom's sister, and she was still alive.  It didn't make sense why her name would be mentioned.  It didn't even occur to me that she had breast cancer in 2008 and it might have been a reference to the disease she had fought.  I was told not long after we got back from our trip that Florence's cancer had returned in her bones and through her body.  I still didn't put it together.  My aunt lost her battle to cancer a short time later, and her funeral was the day I had my biopsy on my tumor.  I went to her viewing not thinking much about what I could be facing; but while I stood in the funeral home saying my goodbyes, I knew.  I cannot explain it, but I knew before I walked out.  Before I had a biopsy.  I didn't want to or let myself believe it, but that's the moment it hit me I may have cancer. 

Still, I didn't put hearing my aunt's name on that recording together.  Only a month or so ago while talking to my daughter did it all suddenly become very clear.  I have the exact same type of breast cancer my aunt Florence had.  Identical.  I wasn't hearing her name because she was the spirit trying to communicate.  I was hearing her name as a reference to why I needed to be scared and get my butt to the doctor.  Can you imagine the frustration that we are so dense not to understand the messages being communicated to us?  Had I not heard that while in Savannah, I likely wouldn't have made an appointment when I did.  I didn't even make it for the right reason.  Ironically, my hand doesn't go numb very much anymore.  It went numb every day and stayed numb for hours before my diagnosis.  As if that was simply a means to get me to go see a doctor because I was ignoring a lump. 

Some people do not choose to believe in this type of stuff, and that's okay.  I have had many experiences in my lifetime that tell me it's real.  This one in particular would have made a believer out of me if I wasn't before.  I can only say that sometimes, that little voice inside your head, that "gut" feeling--sometimes, those are angels trying to guide you.  Open your mind and listen. 

Makeup Tips For Chemo Patients

Makeup Tips

I have completed 12 treatments of Taxol.  I will be starting AC soon.  One of the hardest things to accept about being a breast cancer patient is the way in which Chemo affects your appearance.  You lose your hair, so you get wigs to cover that up.   As if that's not bad enough, you eventually lose your eyebrows.  Finally, your eyelashes may fall out too.  Nothing says sick or cancer like not having eyebrows or eyelashes.  I have found a few makeup tips that are very helpful for those going through treatment, and I wanted to share them with other patients who are trying to maintain a normal appearance!

EYEBROWS

While I kept my eyebrows tidy and neat, I did not take the time to fill them in or fuss with them.  That was a step I simply didn't have time for.  Now that I've lost the majority of my eyebrows, I spend more time on my eyebrows than I do any other area of makeup.  It's not exactly my favorite thing to do; but it's necessary if I don't want to look "sick".  Before I lost my eyebrows, I went to the Sephora store looking for an eyebrow editor kit.  I knew when I walked in I didn't just want an eyebrow pencil.  I felt drawn on eyebrows looked fake.  I had watched several YouTube tutorials on how to do eyebrows (search for chemo patients and eyebrow makeup tips) to learn how to do it, and one thing I quickly found is eyebrows that looked best were done with a filler powder/gel followed by an eyebrow pencil to draw in a few fake hairs.  I use the pencil itself very little as, to me, it looks too fake.  I purchased some of the eyebrow stencils that have that awesome arch you see on all the models.  I do not recommend this.  It doesn't fit my face, and it doesn't look natural.  I have found that sought after arch doesn't suit my face at all.  Therefore, I have stuck to my natural shape of my brows.

I purchased the Sephora Eyebrow Editor Brow Kit.

The kit comes with an eyebrow brush, but I purchased a regular sized one as I found it easier to handle (the one that comes with the kit is very short).

I purchased this eyebrow brush.

EYELASHES

When I went to Sephora, I purchased a set of false eyelashes, an eyelash applicator, and a smaller eyelash curler to prepare for when I lost my eyelashes.  I have never worn false eyelashes, but I will if it comes to that.  I hope it doesn't.  Not everyone loses their eyelashes completely.  Sometimes they just thin.  At this point, mine are thinner than they previously were; and strangely enough, they are becoming more and more blonde.  I don't know why, but it's as if the chemo is affecting the color pigments in what little hair I have left.  While I've lost my hair, I have sparse hair on my head that is continuing to grow; but it's patchy.  However, it's blonde.  My hair was very dark brown before.  My eyelashes are doing the same thing.  So, when I don't have any makeup on, it looks as if I have no eyelashes now.  They are hard to see.  They are thinner and not as long now as well.  Regular mascara did okay, but they were still hard to see with regular mascara.

I was contacted for friend on Facebook last week when I posted a status about having a difficult time feeling beautiful and it becoming more and more difficult to do my makeup and hide the ravages of chemo.  She is an Independent Presenter for Younique Products.  They have a mascara line that is absolutely amazing!  This 3D mascara builds 3D fibers on top of your own lashes to lengthen an magnify your lashes.  I highly recommend this mascara if you're experiencing loss or thinning of lashes.  I have posted photos below of my before and after usage of this mascara.

I used the Moodstuck 3D Mascara.--This link will take you to Lindsay's page for this mascara.  Please be sure to tell her you ordered based on my blog!

My eyes with no mascara or eyeliner

My eyes with no mascara but with eyeliner.

My eyes with regular mascara and eyeliner

MY EYES WITH YOUNIQUE 3D FIBER MASCARA AND EYELINER

The Side Effects They Don't Warn You About......

When I was told I had breast cancer, I was sitting in a hotel room expecting to be told I had a strange, benign tumor that would need to be surgically removed.  While I knew breast cancer was a possibility, I didn't truly believe I would hear that.  I was too young, too healthy, and all the other things we associate with healthy.  The words had the same effect as if I had run headlong into a brick wall.  I cried my share of tears that day (and pretty much daily since then). I immediately began researching as much as I could online.  While I do not recommend this as much of what you find on the Internet is negative and makes you feel as if you have been handed a five year death sentence, I will also say it's unavoidable.  It's natural to look for knowledge and to want to understand what you're dealing with.  One of the first things I wanted to know was what to expect during treatment, surgery, etc.  What side effects could I expect, and what should I prepare myself for?

I posted a blog about side effects and what I had experienced so far.  I talk about side effects I am experiencing each week when I update my blog after a treatment.  These are all medical side effects associated with the chemotherapy treatments and medical problems they cause.  Such as neuropathy, chemo brain, dry mouth, etc.   While none of these are pleasant, I was able to prepare myself for them and to know what to watch for.  There was one area nothing I read prepared me for though--how a breast cancer diagnosis affects you emotionally and how it affects your life as you know it as well as those you love.

I've always considered myself a strong, independent person.  I like to do things for myself and know that I made it happen without depending on others.  While that strength has carried me to this point in my treatment and helped me to maintain better than most who go through this (as I am told), it has also been my biggest enemy.  I have a very hard time admitting weakness or the need for help, and I am discovering suffering in silence only leads to no one knowing what I am feeling inside, and therefore, they are unable to help me.  I don't want to whine or be a baby, so I say nothing.  I often find myself in physical pain to the point of silently crying.  I angrily wipe the tears away hoping no one will notice.  I do not know why I have such a need to hide when I am in pain or why I feel I need to hide it.  If I knew why, I would certainly change it.  I suppose it goes back to the desire not wanting to whine or complain.

I am not accustomed to being in pain on a regular basis.  Prior to my diagnosis, I was rarely sick.  Certainly never anything serious.  While I've had my share of surgeries and associated pain, I always moved past it and got on with my life.  I didn't dwell on it.  Being in pain day after day wears on you physically and emotionally.  It's difficult to enjoy anything when you are constantly in pain.  Suffering in silence, weather by choice or not, leaves you feeling alone inside that pain.  The biggest challenge I face is being in pain and trying to maintain a normal lifestyle.  I am still working full time, and I continue to try to do all the things for my children that I've always done.  I do not want my diagnosis to affect their lives anymore than it already has.  But no matter how hard I try to not let it affect them, I know it does.  I have always spent the evenings talking to my children about their day and what's going on in their lives.  While we watch the occasional TV show, we rarely make our time together about TV.  It's typically spent talking and communicating.  Last night, I sat on the couch; and my daughter was laying next to me with her head in my lap.  I was rubbing her head and patting her arm affectionally.  I kept trying to talk to her like we always do, but the pain coursing through my bones was so unbearable I was having difficulty putting sentences together.  I worked hard to hide how I was feeling so I could spend time with her.  I value every minute of every day I spend with my children--I always have.  But since my diagnosis, I think about it even more.  I can't help but want to make the most of whatever time I have with them.  It's an impossible thought not to have when you've been handed a cancer diagnosis.  As I sat there in so much pain I could barely talk, tears began streaming down my face.  I turned my head away so she wouldn't see.  The tears were bubbling up inside me almost uncontrollably.  I became angry.  Now cancer was going to take away time with my daughter?  I wanted to fight it and not let it win, but I couldn't deny how much pain I was in.  How tired my body felt.  After a few moments, I knew I had to go to bed.  I simply couldn't sit there any longer.  I kissed her goodnight at 8 a.m. and headed up the stairs to bed.  I've always kissed my children goodnight and made sure they were safely in their beds before going to bed.  It doesn't matter that my youngest is now almost 16.  I still kiss her goodnight in her bed then head to bed myself.  And here I was going to bed leaving her on the couch.  Such a small thing to some, but it broke my heart as I walked up the steps to my bed.  It was yet another thing cancer was controlling in my life.

Not only does the physical pain affect my life, but the emotional pain is just as debilitating.  Cancer has affected so much of my life as I knew it, and I am angry at what it has taken from me.  I can't just continue to live my life as I used to even though I try.  It's not as simple as that although people say "try to live your life as you did before".  That's great advice, but it's much harder to do.  Getting up at 6 a.m. for work, working 9 hours, rushing off to pick up my daughter then going to a movie until 1 a.m. simply isn't possible.  I don't have the energy or stamina for it.  There are times I can't even go to work, let alone try to do things after work.  When I do go to work, it's all I can do to go home and go to bed as I'm just too tired to do more.  So, maintaining a lifestyle as I had prior to my diagnosis simply isn't possible.  This change alone emotionally affects you.  Suddenly, your life is no longer yours to decide what you want to do. Cancer is making the decision for you.

The emotional effect this has is not something I can easily explain.  The feeling of not being in control of your own life is a truly terrifying feeling.  I often find I go from feeling confident about my prognosis to feeling hopeless in less than five minutes.  We all walk around in our lives with doubts and fears, and a cancer patient is no different.  Our doubts and fears just involve our health prognosis and survival rates.  Yes, I try to push those negative thoughts aside as I am well aware they are not healthy and productive; but at times, they simply get the best of you.  I believe it's normal to be afraid of the unknown; and it's simply impossible to expect a breast cancer patient to not fear the unknown or ever think about it.  The emotional roller coaster is not one we can control even when we try.

When I was first diagnosed, I was unable to sleep or eat.  All I could think about was the high reoccurrence rate the type of cancer I have has.  When I would finally fall asleep, I would have nightmares about dying.  I lost almost 10 lbs in a little over a week.  I asked my doctor for something to calm me down; and he prescribed Adivan.  The Adivan helped me through that initial hump and to accept the diagnosis, and I must admit it helped me.  However, I am not sure time itself wouldn't have provided the same result.  After a while, I no longer felt I needed the medication.  I did not want to spend the rest of my treatment taking anti-anxiety medication.  I wanted to avoid taking any more medication than absolutely necessary.  Upon speaking to my doctor, he advised I could stop taking it if I felt I no longer needed it, which I did.  I do not feel I had more or less emotional "breakdowns" after I stopped taking it.  The concept of the medication was to help me cope with my diagnosis.  Not live my life on it and not learn to cope with it on my own without medication.  Yes, I shed many tears, and I struggle with feeling sad.  But I also smile and forget from time to time I am sick.  As much as possible, I do continue to live my life.  I have had some very emotionally difficult times over the past few weeks, and I've been told by family members I should go back on my anti-anxiety medication.  I do not feel this is the answer.  I feel it's merely treating symptoms and not the problem.  I do not believe medicating a symptom will fix the issue causing the problem, and I truly believe the best "fix" is the face the problem head on and deal with it.  Facing a problem is never without tears, fears, and a bumpy road so why would I medicate myself and avoid the problem?  I believe everyone is different and medication is truly necessary for some.  I personally have made this choice regardless of how difficult it is.  I openly admit I get down and struggle.  Cancer has affected my emotions to a degree I've never experienced before.  My determination to gain control over my emotions is what keeps me going.  I believe allowing myself moments of weakness is the answer.  Provided I move forward from that weak moment, it's healthy.  It's necessary.  It's part of the healing process.

How the physical side effects affect your ability to continue your life as you've previously lived it and how your emotions are affected are BIG side effects that are not listed or talked about.  They are severely overlooked by physicians.  I am in contact with many other breast cancer patients, and we support one another because we truly understand one another.  However, I was not put in contact with these women by my physician or the breast cancer center.  Support groups, counseling, etc was not offered to deal with the emotional side of things.  Yes, there are brochures laying around here and there; but no one TALKS about it.  Of all the appointments we are given after diagnosis, not one helps us cope with the emotional side of things.  Why wouldn't this be an appointment that's made or at least offered via more than a paper laying in the waiting room?  Why is there an assumption that a patient who is already at an emotional low would reach out and make an appointment for themselves for help in this area? Rather than assume they will take care of it themselves, why not assume they need the help and provide it?

Healing the body has to start with healing the mind......

Chemo 12 (Taxol) --I have finished all my Taxol!!

I Have Completed All Rounds of Taxol!

 

On Friday, January 10, 2013, I received my LAST round of Taxol.  It was very exciting to have reached this milestone.  After 12 weeks of straight chemotherapy, I can't say how great it feels to have completed this without a single delay.  So many people face delays with their chemo and get behind schedule, and one of my biggest goals has been to not get behind.  To power through this as quickly as possible!  It feels very good to know I have met that goal so far.  There isn't much you can control when it comes to chemo, so you take what you DO have control over, and, for me, that is not getting behind!  My husband, Chuck, took me to my treatment.  Since we ended up spending the entire day at the breast center, I believe he was reconsidering that decision at the end of the day.  Upon being checked in for my appointment with my doctor, I was taken into the lab to have my IV started.  Last week, I had two veins blow before they got my IV started, so I was a bit nervous.  However, She went for the vein located in the bend of my arm to avoid the ones we've beat up a little in my wrist and forearm.  They need a break!  While I'm not a fan of having my IV in the bend of my arm (you can't bend your arm without setting off the IV pump alarms), it was worth it to avoid the annoyance of a port all week long.

I will get a two week break before I begin my next course of chemotherapy.  This plus only getting treatments every other week now will give my veins a much needed break!  I begin AC treatments on January 24, 2014.  I get four AC treatments over an 8 week period (every other week).  It's hard to believe I will be done with the chemo side of things in only 10 weeks!  AC is rumored to be a much more difficult chemo to tolerate, so I am mentally preparing myself for what I have ahead of me.  I had reached a point with the Taxol where I knew what to expect and on which days.  As strange as it may sound, I had reached a level of comfort with that particular chemo.  Now I am facing a new treatment plan, and the not knowing how it will affect me and how I am going to feel is particularly hard for me.  As I have mentioned before, I am a bit of a planner and I find peace and comfort in knowing what to expect so I can plan for it as much as possible.  Simply knowing all the possible side effects simply isn't enough.  I learned with Taxol that doesn't mean YOU will have those side effects or problems.  Everyone's body is different, and everyone reacts differently to chemo.

About four or five days ago, I began experiencing sharp pains under my left arm that radiated into my the side of my breast.  My left breast is where the tumor was located.  After several hours of sharp pains under my arm, I began feeling the area where the pain was to see if I could feel something.  At first, I didn't feel anything.  But, I continued to persistently feel every inch, and I found a rather hard lump at the edge of my armpit going into my breast.  This hadn't been there before, and the size alone scared me.  One would think if it was big, I would have quickly found it, but this isn't the case.  It is buried under my arm and not as easy to find as one would think.  I had my sentinal node biopsy under this arm in October, so I have about a two inch incision under this arm, and the surgery left a rather large void under my arm because my nodes he had to remove were all in the same area vs being scattered about.  I wondered if it was scar tissue and made a note to speak to my doctor about it when I saw her before my chemo appointment yesterday.

My oncologists's physician's assistant came in first and examined me.  I explained to her that I had experienced more fatigue last week than I had any other week during my treatments, and she said she was shocked it had taken me 11 treatments to get to that point as most people feel that way after only a few treatments.  I fully expected my blood work to reveal lowered counts reflecting how tired I had felt last week, plus I have been fighting off sinus issues.  However, my blood work came back within perfect range of what's considered normal or average.  Not normal or average for a person getting chemo; but normal or average for the standard person NOT receiving treatment.  She said she had never seen counts so high on the 11th treatment of Taxol; and specifically, my iron levels are 14.5  That's higher than the general population.  Ironically, I had issues keeping my iron levels up when I was pregnant with my children, and they had dropped dangerously low to 6.  I fully expected to have this issue again during treatment, but it would seem this is not the case so far.  So, my blood work didn't show the chemo was affecting my body in the least.  However, I was reporting more fatigue as well as more pain in my body and legs than I had experienced thus far.  The pain I've had in my legs and/or body the past week has reached points of being excruciating at times.  Simply walking up steps makes my legs feel as if they going to break under me.  Bone pain is a common side effect of Taxol, so I know after this week, things will get better eventually.  I feel blessed this bone pain hasn't been this bad all along as it would have made for a much longer 12 weeks!

I could tell by the look on the physician assistant's face she was concerned about the lump under my arm.  She clearly found it troublesome.  After the exam was completed, she went out to speak with my oncologist who came in shortly after.  She too checked the knot, and I could see by the look on her face she was worried as well.  She was very honest with me and told me she was concerned about the hardness of the lump and it was definitely something we needed to investigate before I bothered to go for my 12th Taxol treatment.  She explained if this was a reoccurrence of my breast cancer while I was receiving Taxol, there would be no point in getting the 12th dose, and moving on to AC in another week would be our next step.  If it turned out to be something not related to breast cancer, then I could get my last treatment.  Suddenly, I REALLY wanted chemo.  She explained she was sending me to the 2nd floor for an ultrasound of the lump, and based on the findings, they would either send me back to her office to discuss what it was or they would send me to chemo to get my last treatment.  It would be obvious based on where they sent me what the findings were.

I lay on the table watching the tech do the ultrasound.  I kept watching the screen trying to remember how my tumor had looked before and compare it to what I was seeing on the screen.  How they make heads or tails of what they see on those scans is beyond me because I couldn't tell what was what.  I stopped trying to read the screen, and I began silently praying.  Praying this was not another cancerous lump.  All I could think about was this lump was buried deep in my armpit.  That meant it was right where my remaining lymph nodes were, and that meant the chance it had spread to my lymph nodes and through my body were higher than before.  What if it had been there all along and was missed?  A ton of what if's were going through my mind.  It hit me about then that this was going to be what the rest of my life was going to be like.  Every lump and bump that showed up was going to scare me to death and make me paranoid.  Every ache and pain in my body was going to make me wonder if it had spread through my body.  I was always going to worry about seeming like a paranoid idiot and questioning everything or I was going to say nothing and later wish I had said something sooner.  I'm not sure there is a happy medium?  After completing the ultrasound, the tech informed me she would have the radiologist read them then she would be back to tell me where I needed to go next.  I sat in the room about 15 minutes waiting for her to return.  I prayed, and I prayed, and I prayed.  When she finally returned to the room, I held my breath.  She said "You're headed to chemo for your last Taxol treatment!".  I almost collapsed off the edge of the bed in relief!  I asked what the lump was, and she explained it is a pocket of fluid from my biopsy.  The void created by the biopsy had filled with bodily fluids and was hardening.  Since it's painful and causing discomfort, she said my surgical oncologist  would talk to me about draining it.  While this isn't the most comfortable thing to have done, I prefer that over a cancer reoccurrence.

I headed down to the chemo infusion area about 2:30.  My appointment was supposed to be at 1 p.m, so I was quite late.  After getting settled in my chair, I chatted with the chemo nurses who were all coming into my room and congratulating me on reaching my milestone of getting my last Taxol treatment.  I've become close to many of the girls on the floor, and many of them come sit my room and chat with me about my family and such.  The girls who work on this floor have some of the biggest hearts I have ever seen.  My steroid shot was administered, and I was ready to get my last Taxol after 30 minutes.  I sat there staring up at the bag of saline pumping into my veins while I waited remembering the day of my first treatment and how I had felt.  So scared because I didn't know what to expect, and so overwhelmed because 12 treatments plus 4 additional ones seemed so far away.  And here I was finishing my 12th treatment.  It was a little win against cancer.  Cancer 0 and Teresa 1.  After the 30 minutes was up, we were cleared for takeoff, and I was receiving my last dose of Taxol.

Surprisingly, the hour long infusion went by fast, and the bag was empty before I knew it.  The photo above shows the empty bag of Taxol.  A little photo documentation of my final Taxol Treatment.  A little flushing of the vein, and I would be headed home soon.  Before leaving, my appointments were made to begin my AC treatments.  As I mentioned above, I would have my first AC treatment on January 24, 2014.  I am required to receive a Neulasta shot the day after my chemo treatment.  This shot boosts your white blood counts, which AC can deplete.  Typically, patients come to the clinic to receive the shot, but I had previously requested to receive the shot at a clinic near my home to save me from driving two hours just for a shot.  Unfortunately, because my chemo appointments are on a Friday, this would leave me needing the shot on a Saturday, and the clinic near my home isn't open on Saturdays.  I then asked about getting the shots to keep at home and giving them to myself or by a family member.  I had previously been told this was a possibility, but it would ultimately be up to my insurance company.  If you receive the shot at a clinic, it's billed as a medical expense.  If it's given to you to administer on your own, it's ran under prescription benefits, and the copay is determined by your particular plan.  The shot itself is $3,700 a shot, so you can imagine how worried I was about what our insurance would agree to and what the cost would be if I had to keep them at home.  I simply don't have hundreds of dollars to pay for these shots.  It, ultimately, would come down to what my insurance dictated, which is very sad.  Thankfully, the insurance company approved the shots to be given to me for home administration.  And the cost was $20 a shot for my copay.  For the second time that day, I breathed a sigh of relief.  Everything was scheduled and set for my upcoming treatments.  I could stop worrying now.  Yeah, right.  Before I knew it, we were walking out the door.  It was a great feeling to know I was walking out having completed Taxol.  I admit I had a smile on my face along with a great sense of accomplishment.

The past week has revealed a little more dry mouth issues than I've had thus far.  I imagine this is an accumulative effect from the chemo.  Also, I have noticed my lips feel very dry and burn.  I constantly put chap stick on them.  However, last night, I didn't feel the chap stick was helping much, so I began putting petroleum jelly on them.  That did the trick.  While they still feel dry, they don't burn nearly as bad.  Those are the only side effects I've noticed a difference in since I last reported on side effects.  It dawned on me yesterday that I am walking around with 12 bags of Taxol in my system.  That's a lot of poison, and while the symptoms begin to improve at the end of the week, the chemo is still in my body.  Makes me wonder if I would light up as radioactive under the right lighting.

Last night, I was awake until 5 a.m. from the steroid shot.  That is the most difficult time I've had with sleep since this began.  However, I tried to use the energy in a productive manner preparing jugs of water to donate to family's in West Virginia affected by the Kraton chemical spill who cannot use their water at all.  Several trucks were loaded down today with case after case of water and other donated items for these victims, and it felt good to know I was helping others out who were in need.  It took my mind off all of THIS that's going on in my life.  My life is consumed, it seems, with breast cancer, something hurting, being tired, appointments, treatments, bills, and other issues that seem to make staying positive possible.  However, I continue to remind myself that being strong doesn't mean I don't have weak moments.  It simply means that in spite of the weak moments, I keep picking myself up and moving forward.  And move forward I will because what's behind me has no business being in front of me.

Reach out and bless someone who is less fortunate than yourself.  It's the best way to remind yourself that no matter how bad you think you may have it, someone is having it worse than you.

Chemo 11 of 12--Taxol & Let's Get Real

Chemo Treatment 11 of 12--Taxol

I had my 11th treatment of Taxol on Friday, January 3, 2014.  I only have one more treatment of Taxol left, then I get three week off from chemo before I begin the AC treatments.  The AC treatments will only be every other week (or maybe it's every three weeks), so at least I won't be driving to Columbus every week (sometimes more) like I am now.  I am looking forward to a little break from having poison in my body.  I would simply like to feel normal again if only for a short period of time.  I am dreading the AC all the same as I am told it's much harder than Taxol.  However, it's a road I must travel to reach the intended destination, so travel it I shall.

Having reached my 11th treatment, it pains me to admit I can feel the wear on my mind, body, and spirit.  As hard as I try to remain positive and look as normal as I possibly can, I must admit I can feel the treatments wearing down my body.  My blood counts all looked good on Friday (although one had dropped to almost half of what it was the previous week), but I can FEEL a difference.  My body aches almost constantly now.  While I still have trouble falling asleep and staying asleep, I need a lot of naps just to get myself through the day.  I feel tired and a bit drained most of the time, and putting a load of laundry in the washer is sometimes one more chore than I can stand the idea of doing--much less actually doing.  I am a stubborn person, and I do not like to admit weakness; but I must be honest with those reading this blog who are facing this demon and wondering what to expect; therefore, I admit it's definitely getting harder.

In addition to feeling the effects of the accumulated Chemo I've had so far, I can also see how it's affecting my appearance.  I have been determined since I first found out I would not allow cancer to make me lose my drive to get dressed up, wear the clothes that make me feel good, and take pride in my appearance.  One particular situation constantly popped into my head when I was trying to imagine where this cancer road was going to take me--before I lost my hair, looked or felt any different.  About five years ago, I was sitting at McDonalds eating lunch with my kids.  As we were sitting there, a mother and her daughter walked in that I have known for many years.  While we were never the best of friends, we were friends--or acquaintances.  We had many friends in common I suppose.  I was shocked to see her walk in as I almost didn't recognize her.  She was so skinny, her face was very pale, she had no eyebrows or eyelashes, and she was clearly bald beneath the bandanna she was wearing.  Her clothes were hanging on her from being too big.  I immediately recognized the way cancer can ravage a body and one's appearance, and I felt guilty for even looking at her.  I didn't even know she had cancer until that moment.  I felt so much sadness and pity for her and for her children.  Yes, I said pity.  As much as I hate to admit it, I felt the pity I see in the eyes of others that frustrates me.

When I was told I had cancer, that's the first image that came to my mind.  In my mind, I thought "that's what I am going to look like in a few short months.  But determination eventually took over, and I became determined to be the exact opposite.  I didn't want to look like cancer or be the person people felt sorry for when she walked into a room.  I didn't want to be easily recognizable as cancer.  I wanted to continue to feel good, look good, and dress/act the way I always did.  It became a personal mission of mine to thumb my nose at the typical cancer look.  I didn't care how much makeup it took, how many wigs I had to buy, and how much effort I had to exert.  I did not want to be that memory for someone.  Not that she looked so bad, but because it affected me so deeply.  Having been through treatments (with more to go) I now understand why she likely didn't take the time to get herself fixed up.  Sometimes you're just so tired to care.  Sometimes the effort it just too much.

Looking "normal" is becoming more and more of a chore.  My makeup routine takes a lot longer than it used to.  I have always worn makeup; but I never had to take as much time as I've have to take recently. My eyebrows are very thin and completely missing in some areas now.  This means I have have to take a lot of time to fill them in.  While I always kept my eyebrows groomed, I was never one to put much effort into them otherwise.  I am completely missing my bottom eyelashes now, so I have to make sure I do a very good job of using eyeliner.  Even the smallest mistake is obvious now without eyelashes to hide it.  For now, I still have my upper eyelashes, but I know it's just a matter of time before they too disappear.  Once that happens, it will add more time to my makeup routine as I will have to apply false eyelashes.  My complexion has changed since I began treatment.  I'm pale, and I just have a drawn and tired look.  This means the use of a self tanner regularly so I don't look like a ghost.  Without foundation makeup, I would be lost.  And I use a lot more than I used to have to use.  Which is frustrating.  I hate the feel of a lot of makeup on my face.

The transformation that occurs when I come home and am fixed up to being scrubbed free of makeup and take my wig off is quite shocking.  I look in the mirror, and I don't recognize myself anymore.  Yes, it's still my eyes, but they are heavier and sader.  Yes, it's my face, but it's older already.  Cancer has made its mark on me, and I know it has an even bigger mark to leave when it comes time for my surgery.  I am struggling to accept all these changes in spite of how much I try to fight them.  These aren't changes I wanted to make in my life.  They have invited themselves into my life, and they are an unwanted guest.  I think about the times I said I looked awful without makeup and my hair a mess.  What I wouldn't give to look like that again.

I know God has a plan for me, and I must accept it and this; but it doesn't make this any easier.  I miss my life.  I miss me.  I miss laughing without cancer in the back of my mind.  I miss having hair.  I even miss needing to shave my legs.  I miss having extra money--every dime goes into my gas tank for treatments now it seems.  I miss my life without cancer.

I know my blogs are usually very positive, but today, I am just being real.

God Bless and stay warm--it's cold outside!