The Anticlimax

What a strange week.

I blew off my last echocardiogram because I figured what's the point.  And, my friend the Nurse Practitioner at the Oncology clinic said that I didn’t really have to do it.  I only had one more Herceptin treatment left, and we were going to go ahead and do it anyway.  Part of me wanted to see if my echo was actually any BETTER due to all the running I’ve been doing, but the larger part of me really just wanted to skip an appointment. I felt like I needed to make some kind of point or something. Feel rebellious, etc.  Anyway, I didn’t go.

I did my last (let’s hope anyway) Chemo (Herceptin) on Wednesday last week.  Again, like on the last day of my Radiation, I was sort of hoping that there would be confetti, or someone would ring that bell for me, or something. But, Alas, no one there seemed to know that it was my last treatment.  Nothing Happened. No Celebration. No Congratulations. Nothing.  I got poked, I got infused, and I did my usual best to ignore everything else going on in that room. I was on the phone and the computer, and I hardly even noticed the F------ harp player, but it WAS helpful that I was one row further away from her this time.  As I walked out, it was sort of like  s  l  o  w  motion as I passed that big brass bell on my left.  I’m not a shy person, and had I really felt deep down that the whole thing was over, I would have reached up and just RANG the () thing myself.  But…I didn’t.  I’m not sure if it was the fact that I knew I had to go back there the very next day to have the actual appointment with the oncologist, or the fact that I’ve still made no final decisions regarding the longevity of my left breast, made no plans for reconstruction, or the fact that I still have this port-a-cath imbedded in my left subclavian veins. But I just didn’t.  I just couldn’t, in full consciousness, ring that bell.  It would have been cool if someone else would have rung it, but, I just couldn’t do it myself.   Once I made it past the bell, I did, however, shed 2 tears as I walked out toward the stairwell.  I was not really clear on where the tears were coming from.  The last time I cried was July of this year (the last time I had a menstrual period) if you’re not counting the tears I shed 2 weeks ago as I got into my car to drive away from the trail race I did that weekend.  Those were tears of joy, though.  Tears of rejuvenation.  You know, the kind where you are sort of laughing and crying at the same time.  So, I really wasn’t counting that as crying. While one my think these tears I shed while walking out of the chemo room would have been of joy, or relief, they really didn’t feel that way.  Instead, during this slow motion scenario as I was walking out, I was experiencing a flashback of the last 16 months.  The infusions, the waiting, and the faces of the other patients.  I guess it was mixed emotion.  THAT, and as it turned out, a mere 2 days after the end of my Herceptin, I started my period again!  WOW! I thought that was over with!! I’ve been through hard core Menapause two times now and it is no fun.  In retrospect, I had noticed that my hot flashes were getting easier and farther apart.  Not really even waking me up.  I sort of thought that might be due to the fact that it’s been colder her, so I thought maybe I just wasn’t minding, or noticing them.  Well, I guess I’ll have to inform the doctor of this, but I’m thinking maybe it’s all part of the menopause. 

After meeting with the Oncologist for my “wrap up” appointment I really didn’t feel that much more resolve than I had prior to the appointment.  A summary of how that went: Wait in waiting room one hour.  Just about to get up to leave and the nurse came out to get me and said…”I was hoping you hadn’t left….the doctor is just getting back from vacation.  (At least the nurse knows me, I guess).   Once the doctor came in he began to dictate in front of me as he commonly does and he was saying something about how I’m continuing Herceptin.  I said NO, it was done yesterday.  We argued about it a bit, then he confirmed that yes, I was done.  He gave me a long spiel about Hi Tech vs. Low tech and Fatality rates with Breast Cancer in order to try to convince me for the 3^rd time that I DO NOT need any PET scans or further MRIs.  Maybe a chest x-ray, now and then.  He said that the patient ususally catches metastasis before the scans do, or "nearly" as soon :(.   Well,  let’s just hope I’m ON my CANCER game  a bit better than I was last time when I went in for the first time with a 7 centimeter tumor in my right breast.  He said that I can go get this Port out anytime, and that he would see me in four months.  We didn’t speak at all about the other side.  I know I’m not fully an optimist, but, I AM starting to think Conspiracy here.  Conspiracy between the Oncologist and the General Surgeon for me to keep this thing on the left despite initial recommendations to have it taken off too.    We’ll see though.  I’ll call the surgeon to make and appointment to discuss the port and the following surgery and reconstruction.  The reason I write this is in case anyone is reading this who has had breast cancer like mine where they initially recommend Bilateral Mastectomy due to aggressiveness of the cancer and due to young age.   Do NOT fall for the argument that you can remove the other breast during the reconstruction surgery.  When you have larger breasts, IT is really not cool to have one.  I won’t go into the details again.  I would have preferred to just have them both taken initially, as i thought was going to happen.  Remember, the general surgeon informed me only days before the surgery that we would wait to do the other side until the reconstruction happens.  I was not reconstructed at that time due to radiation.  I have, however, interviewed several of my therapy clients recently who have had single mastectomy with NO reconstruction and asked them how they have liked it.  They all say, it’s horrible to have one.  AND, a side note is that I’ve noted that many of them have moderate to severe scoliosis.  I don’t think it is a coincidence.  My chest, back and underarm are so tight it is affecting my right hip and groin.  This may be mostly due to the radiation though.  As my dermatologist said….As she was cutting a hole in my right thigh to rule out skin cancer…..Radiation makes the muscles “like beef jerky”.  She’s right.  So, I suppose I cannot blame all the tightness on the surgery alone.

Enough about that.  I’ve decided to attempt a medical free holiday and not make any appointments until after the New Year.  

As for running.  It is great.  Last week was my highest mileage week so far this time around.  47 miles and full of HILLS, HILLS, HILLs.  Long run was 21 miles trail with lots of HILLs.  This week is recovery week.  I’ll do my best not to gain much weight with Holiday Foods Galore.

This is the hairdo that happens when one is trying to hold down the wacky hair that does whatever it wants.

Next week 25 miles long trail run.

I wish everyone the Happiest and Healthiest of Holidays!

progress

In spite of the fact that the food menu is limited, and they microwave, or steam, eggs, (for consumption) (if you know me, you know that I'm an egg snob, but you also must know that...) I LOVE the fact that the coffee shop that I frequent every Tuesday after my Rogue group run, does great foam on their Cappuccino, and is named progress.  I love how the big green sign is displayed right there, on the top of the edifice. Nothing fancy.  Just simple, regular, circular type letters...progress. 

I've mentioned before that my goal is Relentless Forward Progress.   At this point, I feel that I'm still working up to that.  I haven't quite achieved the Relentless part, and much of the time I'm still checking that I am indeed still moving forward.  However, there is Progress being made.   In the midst of all of this past week's RattleDown!  (this is my new call out for snakes on the trail....like...on your left....or, bike up :)) and my F****** Herceptin Treatment last Wednesday, I forgot to actually give an update. No, it was not the harpists fault this time.  I was simply in a grumpy mood, despite having a delightful trail run that morning.   

Areas of Progress over the past 10 days have included, but possibly not been limited to:

1. I had an actual conversation with my oncologist.  We, of course,  did not agree . I asked if i could have some EPO or some extra blood, or something to take care of this low RBC count once in for all, and all he said was...."don't even mention that here".....followed by, "Lance did the Tour with a RBC count of 10".  Really?  I need to look that up.  I find that hard to believe.  Anyway,  I thought it was odd that he mentioned Lance...I had not brought him up.  I just wanted the EPO. He told me my problem was not critical.  I did throw it out there that it could potentially become critical at mile 40 of the 50 mile race i had planned, and then he attempted, successfully, to sidetrack me with something about serum IRON.  I fell for it.  They tested my Iron Saturation or something, and it turns out it's fine, so I DO NOT get the special Iron treatment i was hoping for.  My problem is just not bad enough.  My RBCs did go up slightly this round, but i've been taking iron now for 3 weeks, and eating about 2x as much Red meat as i used to.  I think this part might have actually caused a slight setback due to the fact that this red meat plan convinced my mind on one or two occasions, to eat chicken fried steak, because it would be good for me.   

2.  I faced my 3rd motivation test and passed, pretty much with flying colors.  I'll be brief.
The first test, i already mentioned.  It was when my alarm did not go off and i still made it out to run 8 miles alone.  Second test: Run on Treadmill 5 miles when i DID NOT feel like it after a long day at work. Third Test: Run 11 miles on trail ALL BY MYSELF on tired legs, partly in the dark, and alongside multiple snakes, the day after i had chosen to ride my bike for 3.5 hours of hills.

3. I actually reached out to the medical profession for assistance with my severely tight chest/arm problem....and it's helping.   I've attended two sessions of Active Release Technique treatments and it pretty much hurts like HELL, but it is helping.  I'm also getting treatment for the shin splints that I've been avoiding for about 4 years as well, and it is helping with that too :).

4. I've had a bit of time to think about my surgical/reconstruction options and have actually had one conversation with my husband about it.  Zero decisions made, but at least not backward motion. 

5.  I had fun with my family at a county fair despite the heat outside. 

Ferris Wheel

6. And IT RAINED here last weekend!! it was beautiful!

Normalcy. Hmm. Not exactly.

Just when I began to feel my first hints of normalcy in life and health, I had to, against my better judgement, go, and show back up to this…. GAP (you know, the GawdAwfulPlace that I will have to keep coming back to every 3 weeks through December…the oncologist’s place and the chemo room). Today was a bonus day too, in that I not only got to see the Oncologist himself, but also got to also see the radiation oncologist’s nurse so that she could check out my burned skin.    Good news on the radiation end of things is that, as you may have noticed from last week’s countdown, radiation, itself, is over.  The burn, however, is improving in some areas and worsening in some areas.  It is also actually hurting worse on the inside.  The muscles under the skin feel kind of like cooked meat, if you will.  Overcooked really.  They feel tough and stringy.  You know how I am not impressed by overcooked meat.  Good news on the oncology end of things is that the oncologist actually accurately dictated everything I could hear him say today! And as far as we know, I still do not have Cancer!   On the more disturbing end of things, I still get to start the new oral chemo drug, Tamoxifen, this week.  I am scheduled to be on this drug for 5 years.  Sounds overwhelming, especially when the doctor and the pharmacist review the side effects…” some people just don’t feel good…” said the doctor.  “Like what”, I said… ”well, it could be a whole host of things…you’d have to go to the PDR (Physician’s Desk Reference) to see them all”, he says…”Greeaat”, I thought to myself.  Of particular note is the possible WORSENING HOT FLASHES, Increased Risk for Blood clots and therefore possible pulmonary embolism which could lead to death,  increased risk of endometriosis and endometrial…you guessed it…CANCER.  But, since I’m on a lucky streak lately, I’m feeling pretty confident none of these will apply to me. J  I forgot to ask if, my plans to begin training for, and running a very difficult 50 mile race was going to be a problem.

Oops. White count back down below normal. Darn.  Red Counts about the same as last week with HGB slightly up and RBC slightly down. All still in the below normal level.

Now for a quote that I saw recently on the internet that I liked: (I know, what’s up with all the quotes lately? I must be in an introspective phase.  Note to  WWFFss...I’m out.  Except for Olyveoyl.  Sorry, it’s been a great run, or rather something to do instead of running…I love you all but my time is up). Back to the quote:

“The only dream worth having is to dream that you will live while you are alive, and die only when you are dead.  (Do to the author’s use of the word ONLY, it might seem like the quote would end here, but it does continue on with some more pretty good stuff.) To love, to be loved. (Good one.)  To never forget your own insignificance. (Easy enough).  To never get used to the unspeakable violence and vulgar disparity of the life around you. (Not a problem).  To seek joy in the saddest places. (Doing that now).  To pursue beauty to its lair. (I’m not sure what that means.) To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. (I’ll need some work on that one.) To respect strength, never power. (Not even PowerHowell? Not sure I like that one.) Above all, to Watch.  To try and understand.  To never look away.  And never, never forget. (Done.  Unless the Oldtimer’s get’s me.)

--Arundhati Roy

Now, Here is a new, just fresh off the lips of the chemo nurse l quote that I heard just now:

”We’re so screwed today… that’s just the way it is”.

Frustrated Chemo Nurse