Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Fun Friday

Last Friday my physical therapy appointment was rescheduled to occur THIS Friday, so I have nothing to report as far as that goes.

It turned out that it worked out perfectly, though, because as you know I have been hating my hair SO MUCH that I reached out to a friend who has super-cute-short hair and got her hairdresser's contact info.  And LUCKY ME: she had a cancellation Friday afternoon so I was able to jet over and cut these stupid chemo curls off.  The hairdresser said that she has had a dozen or so friends / clients have chemo curls over the years but she'd never seen anything quite like mine.  She had some fun poofing them out first, and then she chopped them all off so now I'm rocking a very short pixie cut and I love it.

G, who was hoping I'd grow out my hair, agrees that it looks much better.  My co-worker JC says that the cut has taken "years" off of my appearance.  I'm really happy.

I don't have a good picture of the haircut yet, but I do have a picture of the hair that was cut:

 
Yes, I know

After the hair appointment, I hustled off to OHSU for my first Zoladex injection.  G was not available to provide videographer services on this trip, but perhaps another time.

The first shot I received was a lidocaine shot.  That feels kind of like a bee sting, but I have no doubt it doesn't hurt as much as the injection would....

Then, out came the injection needle.  That thing is large.  BUT thanks to the lidocaine I didn't feel a thing!

Sorry it's blurry, but that's post injection what the needle looks like....

What I, of course, didn't think about but makes total sense is that there is a decent amount of bleeding after this injection.  Within about an hour I'd bled through the first bandage and was replacing it with gauze and another bandage.

And here is what the injection site looked like about 4 hours later:

Hot
And 24 hours later:

Also pretty Hot

ANYWAY, except for some minor site tenderness it really hasn't been that big of a deal.  I don't think I'm experiencing much else in the way of side effects.  YET.

In looking online I saw that there are 1 month and 3 month treatments you can get of Zoladex.  I asked the nurse who said that they do have the 3 month treatments at OHSU, but typically Dr. Chui likes to see how his patients do before transitioning to the higher dosage.  Sounds just like him!  So fingers crossed now that I do, in fact, tolerate the shots well enough to switch to a higher dosage so I only have to do this 4 times a year instead of 12!

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Quick Update

Things are still rolling along.

I'm doing well enough on the Tamoxifen that we are going to start the "chemical menopause" in the form of monthly injections of ZOLADEX starting Friday. 

The general concept of this did not trouble me.  Between the fertility stuff I did at the start of my cancer adventures (giving myself up to 3 shots a day in the stomach...), the chemo, the Neulasta shots after chemo, and all the other pokes and blood draws this past year, I feel like I've become pretty accustomed to needles.  So much so, in fact, that I asked Dr. Chui if I could just get the shots and give them to myself at home.  No such luck, and not just because of insurance, but because this isn't just a simple shot!  Oh no, this involves being numbed FIRST (presumably with shots although we didn't get into that) and then the injection of an IMPLANT under my skin.

See A VIDEO HERE if you are interested.  I'm sure it won't be as bad as my imagination is making it out to be, but it's a bit more involved than I thought.  We'll see how I do Friday afternoon at 4:30.  Maybe G can be there to video tape me as I pass out!

The only arguable set back at this point is that I am showing signs of LYMPHEDEMA in my left arm.  So that's a bummer.  I have my first physical therapy appointment on Friday before my first injection.  Presumably I'll learn some stretches and also how to manually drain the lymphatic fluid from my arm.  The worst part about all of this is that, when I first started noticing these twinges G was insistent that I call/email Dr. Chui and I kept saying I had my appointment in June and I'd just see him then.  The first thing Dr. Chui said to me?  "You should have contacted me right away when this started."

Nothing is worse than G being right.

I do try to balance reaching out to Dr. Chui--I don't want to be a pest and email him every time I feel kind of funky.  But I guess I should have contacted him in this case.

G was right.  Just don't tell him that.


Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Long Time, No Write

So it's been a while.  Mostly I'm writing this post because I don't want people who come to my blog to have the first thing they read be an update about diarrhea.  (Which by the way, we finally figured out: it wasn't c-diff, it wasn't lactation intolerance, it was the study drug....I guess when the label says "TAKE WITH FOOD" you should really...you know...take with food?)

Anyway, lots has happened since my last post.  I turned 40.  O turned 3.  I've met with my radiation oncologist who just checked me out and said I was doing fine.  Got to see my radiation team again, which was nice.  You go from people being a daily part of your life for 6 weeks to nothing...it is weird. 

All in all I'm doing well.  I have stiffness in my left arm which I'm sure is the result of the lymph nodes being removed and scarring from that and the radiation.  I will probably need to go see a physical therapist eventually for that...but I haven't yet because: LIFE.  Life is happening now, people, and I don't want to be bothered with this dumb cancer thing!

This time last year I was contemplating what bald person to be for Halloween.

This year, with my chemo curls, I have some options, too!


Glee's Blaine at the no-hair-gel prom.  If only I could get away with slicking it back like he does on a day-to-day basis.



Napoleon Dynamite.  Just need to find the glasses.
This one is the latest idea: I just need to pull on the top part of my head and I can look like this!!!

 So, yeah, lots of options.  I keep thinking it's getting straighter at the root and am fighting the temptation to go cut all of the curls off but it's getting tougher!  I think I'd like it short if it were straight, but these curls are TOO, TOO much.

That's about it from here.  Tomorrow I meet with Dr. Chui to discuss my progress and, I'm sure, my soon-to-be menopause.  I'll try to write an update in the next few weeks to debrief that.

In the meantime: LIFE!

Monday, April 23, 2012

C-DIFF, or something like it

So, for the past two weeks I've been dealing with mostly on again, but sometimes off again, symptoms that have me concerned that the C-Diff is recurring.  If you don't recall, I had a nice bout of it after my mastectomy in November.

This has not been so bad, but in duration alone I began to get concerned so I finally emailed Dr. Chui (on a Sunday....I'm horrible.....and he wrote me back....because he's wonderful!)

In no particular order, the cause could be:

  * recurring C-Diff
  * some other GI bug
  * a reaction to metformin (which I may or may not be taking in my clinical study)

I confess I'm torn: if it's the C-Diff, it's a quick course of antibiotics and it's gone, which is good.  BUT if it's the metformin it means I'm actually taking metformin, and not a sugar pill...which would be cool to know, since I want to do everything I can to kill the cancer!

However, in order to determine the cause of my distress, I had to pop on in for another fabulous lab test.

And you know what's worse than having to give a stool sample, I learned this morning?

NOT HAVING ONE TO GIVE.  I had to sit in the lab for almost an hour waiting for nature to take its course.  Once again, the lab techs were super-duper-nice, but it's just so humiliating!!!  "Any minute now!" I kept saying, patting my stomach.  Guh.

My "BRAT" diet is obviously helping with the problem so that's good, especially because I am supposed to attend a conference the rest of the week.  The good news is, the conference is local so I will be sleeping in my own bed while I hopefully recover.

And you know me: I took a picture today at the lab--

I say it again: IT'S ALL SO GLAMOROUS!
In other news, I got my hair cut.  I went to a "curl" specialist trained in the Ouidad techniques.  I guess the bummer of that I had failed to consider was that we would CELEBRATE my curls as opposed to eliminate them.  So I still look like an old lady who went to the SuperCuts and asked for the hot-pink-roller perm special....and I still hate it....but I have better products in it.  I really, really, really can't wait for it to grow out.  Even though I'm fairly convinced the grow-out will include a few months of ungodly poof-i-ness, the weight of longer hair will help.  And for most people the curl is temporary anyway so: FINGERS CROSSED.  I don't mind a little wave, but this is RIDICULOUS!

On the plus side, we've had three beautiful days in a row here in Portland (though that's supposed to end tonight) which has lifted my spirits!  Once I get this gastro-intestinal situation under control, I might just start EXERCISING again!

Friday, April 6, 2012

It was One Year Ago Today

Today I was treated to lunch by my fabulous co-workers who spoiled me the WHOLE TIME I was getting treatment...shouldn't I be buying THEM lunch?

And a gift to boot, what wonderful friends I have.

I was reminded that one year ago today, in fact right around this time I think, I was walking into Epic Imaging in Beaverton for my mammogram....which then became an ultrasound.....which then became a biopsy.....and an unofficial diagnosis of breast cancer (along with prescriptions for Lorazepam and Vicodin!)

Poor G had just started his new job and was at Disneyland (formerly the Happiest Place on Earth) for a conference with his new colleagues when he got the news...which at first he did not believe as I texted him from the exam table bawling my eyes out.

I still remember with gratitude the nurse and doctor at Epic Imaging.  Their sympathy, of course, but also their willingness to do all of the procedures that day and the doctor's willingness to give me the news without saying I had to wait 48 hours for the results (when it was so obvious from the scans).  

And friend SH and cousin L who both rallied to help out around the house since I was not allowed to lift O for the first several days and most of my immediate family was out of town. 

Those first few days were among the worst, because I just did not know what was in store.  Other days in the past year have been bad and equally tear-filled, but I will never forget hearing that I had cancer.

As for today, my skin is healing up great and I finally have a hair appointment with a woman who specializes in curly hair.  It's not until the 23rd but when I told the receptionist what I look like these days, she also put me on a wait-list in case there are cancellations between now and then:

"I look like Marcia Clark!!!!!"
(having done a "google images" search for Ms Clark I should have qualified that with "circa 1994"....girl's had a little work done since then...)

I'm sure my entries here in this blog will be less frequent, but I'll try to keep up with it at least once every few weeks even if it's just to say I'm seizing the day!

Saturday, March 24, 2012

News from the Oncologist Visit

So, the big question people always ask me is when I'll be "in the clear" with this cancer thing.

The simple answer is: NEVER.

The better answer is: with every year that passes that I am cancer free, the odds increase that I'll stay that way.

The odds are better for me because my tumor is estrogen receptive which means the tamoxifen will help.  HOWEVER, pre-menopausal women, like me, have the worst odds because we're still producing estrogen...

UNLESS....

Dr. Chui puts me in a chemical state of menopause.

Which is what we're going to do, eventually.

Dr. Chui wants me to start the tamoxifen once I'm a bit more recovered from radiation.  (The deal we made is: once I can sleep through the night without waking up from the pain of the burn area, I'll start up on the tamoxifen again.)  Then, he wants me to do the tamoxifen for 4-6 months before I start getting monthly shots to shut down my ovary entirely.

There was a study in Austria where they did this with pre-menopausal women, and with NO chemotherapy, and the survival rates 5-8 years out were in the high 90s percentage-wise.  I like those odds better than without, so early menopause here I come!

All of this is reversible if we decide it is safe enough for me to attempt a pregnancy in a few years.  I'm less and less optimistic about that, but I still haven't given up on the dream completely.  We'll just have to wait and see what happens, I guess...like we are with everything else!

Friday, March 23, 2012

Kind of Cool

Ran across this site the other day, and thought it was kind of neat:

http://thetutuproject.com/

Different people react to this diagnosis differently.  Spouses even more so.  Like some of them run for president and have affairs (so, so disappointed in John Edwards I can hardly think straight!) and then there's this guy with the Tutu Project.  Sweet.

Appointment with Dr. Chui today.  Will post more about that later!

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Is Ibuprofen a Food Group?

If so, I'm getting PLENTY of nutrition.

The internet and my radiation oncologist and my radiation techs were right: even though radiation finished last week, this week is no picnic.

There are a few spots that are officially oozing.  I looked for a good "primordial ooze" image to include here but it crashed my internet so you're out of luck.  (Bummed?  Yep, I knew you would be!)

In other news, this arrived yesterday from my son (since he's not yet 3, I'm assuming his dad gets some credit too):

the card reads, "Congratulations!  Here's to Weekends on the Dance Floor"
Say it with me now:  aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww...

Monday, March 19, 2012

AND I'M DONE

On Friday, by about 5:20, I was done.  Officially a graduate of Cancer College.  I actually felt like doing this:


I also felt like something really special should be done to mark the occasion, but I don't think G budgeted appropriately, because--honestly--I deserve this (as does everyone who has come before me and will follow me on this adventure):


I did arrive home to find beautiful flowers from my sis-in-law and bro-in-law:


We didn't do much in the way of celebrating that night.  I was (and still am) pretty spent.

On Saturday, my Mom, a friend & her daughter all spent the day working at the Yolanda House, a battered woman's shelter here in Portland.  The day itself was not ideal for me and manual labor but we all managed to chip in--we painted and decorated one of the rooms that will someday be occupied by a mother and child fleeing a violent home. 

Saturday night, G & I went out to see Bob Odenkirk (google him) live with a local improv group.  It was pretty fun!  Then Sunday we all went out to breakfast with some friends.  The rest of Sunday was a lazy day for me...

Now I'm back at work.  I'm still in quite a bit of pain--which is to be expected--and sleep last night was elusive. 

Which, by the way, I have to say is one of my new pet peeves--people ask me all the time, "Oh, are you back now?"  UM, HELLO!  I was never GONE!  Sure, I took time off to recover from major surgery, but otherwise I have worked this whole time and I admit I get kind of irritated when people ask that question!  (I feel comfortable complaining about that here, since none of the people who ask me that question read this blog....OBVIOUSLY!)

So, for those of you keeping track...my mammo / ultrasound / biopsy where the doc unofficially told me I had cancer was April 6, 2011.  I did chemo over the course of 20 weeks, a double mastectomy 4 weeks later, and radiation for 5-1/2 weeks.  My last treatment was March 16, 2012.

That's:

29,894,900 seconds OR
498,240 minutes OR
8,304 hours OR
346 days OR
11+ months

I have an appointment with Chui Friday.  I will post sometime after that his answers to your burning questions like, "What next?" "How long before you can confidently say your cancer won't come back?" etc.....

I think I sort of know the answers to those questions, but I'm going to wait to see what my expert says.

Friday, March 16, 2012

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!!!!!

1
one more treatment to go, today at 4:10!!!!



Yesterday we removed the bolus, so I made it longer than the doctor predicted, but not all the way to the end...

I will actually miss my treatment team, but I will not miss the reality of the treatment. Undoubtedly there will be an adjustment period as I transition from ACTIVELY treating cancer to just taking some pills.  I feel sorry for the people around me who will have to listen to my crazy, paranoid ramblings as every twinge will for quite a while be me thinking it's the cancer coming back I'm sure!

Here is a photo of the most severely burned area this morning:

Yuck!!!
They say it will continue to get worse next week, and then I'll start feeling better.  Woo-hoo!!!!

To honor the occasion, my friend CC sent me these custom-made earrings.  I am wearing them today...

Thanks, CC!
And, I've sent an Edible Arrangement to my treatment team which I hope will arrive before I do so they know how grateful I am to them for their kindness.  There's lots of time during the set up to chat so I am a little misty that today will be the last time I see them...until my next check up with Dr. Marquez!

Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Final Countdown

2

Still Using the Bolus....

although, if I had to guess I'd say today and tomorrow they will stop because it's official: the skin is breaking down.  Still not OOZING that I can tell, but there are different colors and textures going on now:


I feel like Ralph Macchio in "The Outsiders" after he and Pony saved those kids in the church fire.  Except, you know, it's just the one spot on my body as opposed to all over, and I'm not going to die alone in some crappy 1950s S.E. Hinton hospital...But if you hear me telling you to "Stay Gold" now you'll know why.

Incidentally, I was OBSESSED with that movie in the 4th grade.  I wonder why....

A shirtless Matt Dillon...even in my youth I was able to appreciate this


Oh the crushes!  Oh the fan mail!!!  Oh the crying every time I saw that movie!!!!!!!!!


Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The Final Countdown

3

today's appointment is at 4:10

still using the bolus.


met with Dr. Marquez yesterday who prescribed SILVADENE for post-radiation skin-soothing awesomeness. Can't start using it until this weekend, because it apparently goes on the skin "like frosting" and does not absorb particularly well.

I think I'm gonna need it!


And a shout out today to friend HH who recently discovered an aggressive tumor in one of her breasts. It appears to be "in situ" which means stage zero, but given the aggressive grade she is getting a double mastectomy today. Assuming the tumor is, in fact, contained within the ducts she will not have to have chemo or radiation so EVERYONE: FINGERS CROSSED!!!!!

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

The Final Countdown

4

today's appointment is at 4:10.

Yesterday they checked out my radiated area to determine if the bolus would stay on. 
Here are the comforting words I heard during the assessment:

"Well, it's not oozing yet, so I think we're still good to go!"

So, I guess I have oozing to look forward to.

In the meantime, here's another picture of my not-yet-oozy skin!



Monday, March 12, 2012

The Final Countdown

5

appointment today is at 4:20.

doc is going to check my skin to see about keeping or removing the bolus today.
the best description I can give about the skin is it feels like the worst sunburn in a world, and someone holding an open flame to that.  So in other words: it's AWESOME.

but I'm almost done!


Friday, March 9, 2012

The FINAL Countdown...

After today, I will have 5 more radiations to go! 

This week has definitely brought the discomfort of the burned skin. 

OUCH  
I continue to slather on the calendula at least twice a day, and a new lotion, Aquaphor, at least once a day.  Next week the doctors may stop the use of the bolus which "tricks" the radiation into staying closer to the skin surface so that will help with the burns.  In the meantime, I'm thinking the "fatigue" that hits at the end of radiation is the result of the discomfort of the burns.  I'm tense when I'm awake and I'm not sleeping particularly well (despite loading up on pain killers of several varieties!)  I definitely hit a wall in the late afternoon, and I'm going to bed earlier and earlier!

In other news, I HATE MY HAIR.  Now, I want to say that I know 6-months-ago-me would punch present-tense-me for saying that because 6 months ago I would have given ANYTHING just to have hair.  But hear me out: my hair has come in so uncontrollably curly that I can't do anything with it.  I wake up in the mornings and it looks like I've (barely) survived a tornado!  And I don't have a hairdresser who I know locally who can do anything with this mess.  I have tried to dry it with a hair dryer to make it straighter but, really, it just makes it poof out.  Here are two photos of my hair so you can get a sense of the craziness:



So, if you know a hairdresser who can handle the madness that is my new-wave hair here in the Portland area, please let me know.

And join me, won't you, in the final countdown?

6

Friday, March 2, 2012

17 of 28 DONE

So I've hit the MORE THAN HALFWAY mark on this radiation thing. 

My skin is a lovely, fluorescent pink.  It's not terribly painful yet but it's starting to itch like a sunburn can.  When they take the sticky bolus off of me after treatment that can hurt, but nothing is unbearable.

Greg came last week to a session and took some pictures.  I had thought he would be able to stay in the room during the zapping and get some video but they're a little sensitive about accidentally radiating people there or something!  ANYWAY: here are the pix:

Here is the table I lay on--you can see my hands overhead.  There are little sponges under my wrists to help with the arms falling asleep--it takes a little longer now for the discomfort.  And that's Linnea, one of my rad techs.

Here they are lining up the green laser lines with my tattoos on my ribs.  I have to be perfectly "level" before they can begin my treatment.  After lining up the rib tats they move the table and get my clavicle tattoo lined up as well.  


A clearer picture of the green lasers, although at this point they're obviously not lined up on my tattoos anymore.  The large round blue thing hovering over me moves around me during the treatment.


There's a little snapshot of what my 28 treatments look like.  It's definitely just become a part of the routine now so it doesn't feel like the drag it did in the beginning.  And while radiation is no picnic, it's still better than chemo was.

It's hard to believe that two weeks from today I will be DONE with treatment!  I cannot wait.  But whatever will I do with myself then?

....I need to find a date to the Hunger Games on March 23rd!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

35% Complete

Yesterday was my tenth of twenty-eight radiation treatments.

Not much new to report.

The area being radiated is sore--but it's more like I've overdone it in a workout kind of sore as opposed to burned skin or sharp pains.  So, I'm trying to stretch the area a lot.

The other "side effect" that is already noticeable (though not awful) is that my esophagus is starting to feel tender.  It feels like heartburn, sort of.  It's not a big deal, except when I try to swallow my pills--one in particular is a horse pill and it's getting tough to swallow.  I met with Dr. Marquez yesterday who says to chug some Maalox and that could help, so off to the store for Maalox I went!

G may come to a radiation session one of these days.  If he does, I'll have him take some video of the machine in action...

No real fatigue yet, although I confess I did take a little power nap yesterday after the treatment which I don't normally do so maybe it's catching up to me?  We shall see....

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

6 Songs

It takes about 6 pop songs, from the time I'm brought into the radiation room until the time I am done getting zapped.  I realize that pop songs vary in length, and you have the occasional DJ talking in the middle of the songs...but no commercials on this particular Sirius/XM station so I've gotten to the point where I can pretty much count it off, assuming everything goes right:

1 Song = the time I'm on the table getting moved around, the bolus placed on my chest, etc.
1 Song = the time it takes to do the imaging, to make sure I'm on the table in the perfectly correct position
1 Song = the time it takes the team to review the imaging before starting the treatment
3 Songs = the time it takes to zap my tumor

I'm at the mercy of The Pulse satellite radio station as to how good those songs are, and it really does make a difference!!  I like PEPPY songs (even though I can't move around) because the slow ones bring me down.  "Moves Like Jagger" came on once and it was the happiest I've been with hands that were asleep, a sore spot on my head, and cold toes!

My skin is slightly pinker than it was when I started, but still not uncomfortably so.  My biggest complaint continues to be the ridiculous position I have to hold for those 6 songs.  This weekend, in fact, I woke up at 3:00 Sunday morning in excruciating pain--pinched nerve in my neck...the numbness and tingling radiated down my left arm and I could barely move.  That night and the following night I struggled to find a single position that was comfortable to sleep in, but I took an assist from my leftover surgery pain meds and have been sleeping well since then.  I talked to my doctor about it yesterday at our weekly check-in and she said I should try to keep that area nice and stretched...and she assured me that she'd refill my pain med prescription if I needed her to (hopefully I won't, but it's nice to know all I have to do is ask!!!!)

Today will be my 7th treatment; with 21 to go.  No "fatigue" yet but I didn't expect it this soon.  My appointments are now late afternoon instead of evening so I get to hang with O before bedtime.  And even though it's still annoying to have to go every weekday, it's just becoming part of the routine now...

Friday, February 10, 2012

All Night This Week...

Based on my schedule and request, my radiation treatments have been after work this week.  That means on Wednesday, Thursday, and tonight I miss the bedtime routine with O.  (Not to mention that on Tuesday, G and I attended an event to honor the Portland Police Bureau 2011 Retirees...so that will be four nights in a row...)

So far, not getting to kiss O goodnight has been the worst thing about radiation.  By far.

The skin is pinking up and I am slathering on the lotion to help keep things soothed.  I guess the silver lining there is that a lot of that area is still numb from the mastectomy / lymph node removal so it doesn't hurt as much as it might otherwise.

I was able to find a video of how the metal bars move during radiation!

Maybe that's only interesting to me, but it's the only entertainment while I'm laying there getting zapped!

Actually, youtube.com has lots of videos that show IMRT if you're really intrigued by the science of it all.

And I discovered another silver lining, because my head and / or neck aren't being treated, I'm not pinned to the table like this:




I saw this image the other day when I was looking for other pictures to describe my experience.  I talked to my treatment providers about it and they showed me how it works--yuck, yuck, yuck!  I would not like that at all (although the neck support in that picture looks nice...)

BUT in searching I also came across this photo, which makes me jealous--her arms look much more comfortable than mine are during radiation.  They fall asleep within minutes of my 20-30 minutes on the table.


Oh well, I guess you can't have EVERYTHING.
So, IN SUMMARY, THE BAD: pink skin, arms and hands that fall asleep, no O time; THE GOOD: skin is numb so it doesn't hurt, I really like the people who are providing my care.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

One down, Twenty-Seven to Go

Before I begin a retelling of yesterday's adventure, I wanted to show you the room where my "simulation" took place last week--





That's where I laid last week to be measured and scanned, scanned and measured, tattooed and so on...

Yesterday, I checked in at 12:30 and first met with Dr. Marquez's nurse.  She took me through what a typical radiation day looks like: check in at the front desk, head to the "sub-waiting area" where I will put my belongings in a locker and change into a robe (it's almost like a spa) and wait for my Radiation Team Members to come get me for my fun.  I learned that any lotion with CALENDULA as a primary ingredient will be my best friend, and that I should use it from day one even though my skin won't hurt at first.  Basically, I'm to act as though the area being radiated has a horrible sunburn--no super hot water, blot with towels to dry, etc etc etc.

So off to the sub-waiting area I went, changing into my robe.  Each radiation machine has its own team of therapists, so I met a few of mine yesterday.  Here is a picture of what the machine looks like:


I lay down on the table there and it can move as well as the machine around me.  The only thing missing from this picture is the bars that I have to hold onto with my hands so that my arms stay lifted up.  Also, they put a little wedge underneath my knees for comfort (spa!).

I should mention here that the type of radiation I'm getting is called "Intensity-Modulated Radiation Therapy" or "IMRT" for short.  Here is a brief description of how it works:

     Intensity-modulated radiation therapy (IMRT) is an advanced mode of high-precision radiotherapy that utilizes computer-controlled linear accelerators to deliver precise radiation doses to a malignant tumor or specific areas within the tumor. IMRT allows for the radiation dose to conform more precisely to the three-dimensional (3-D) shape of the tumor by modulating—or controlling—the intensity of the radiation beam in multiple small volumes. IMRT also allows higher radiation doses to be focused to regions within the tumor while minimizing the dose to surrounding normal critical structures. Treatment is carefully planned by using 3-D computed tomography (CT) or magnetic resonance (MRI) images of the patient in conjunction with computerized dose calculations to determine the dose intensity pattern that will best conform to the tumor shape. Typically, combinations of multiple intensity-modulated fields coming from different beam directions produce a custom tailored radiation dose that maximizes tumor dose while also minimizing the dose to adjacent normal tissues.
     Because the ratio of normal tissue dose to tumor dose is reduced to a minimum with the IMRT approach, higher and more effective radiation doses can safely be delivered to tumors with fewer side effects compared with conventional radiotherapy techniques. IMRT also has the potential to reduce treatment toxicity, even when doses are not increased. Due to its complexity, IMRT does require slightly longer daily treatment times and additional planning and safety checks before the patient can start the treatment than conventional radiotherapy.

     Radiation therapy, including IMRT, stops cancer cells from dividing and growing, thus slowing or stopping tumor growth. In many cases, radiation therapy is capable of killing all of the cancer cells, thus shrinking or eliminating tumors.

Yesterday was a longer session because it was my first on the machine and adjustments get made.  They also lay a bolus across the side of my body being treated.  It looks like this:



The round part at the top of the machine in the photo above moves around and there are little metal bars inside of that that adjust themselves...Here is a picture.  I wish I could find a video because it's actually kind of cool to watch:






There is no pain from the radiation (unless you count my arms falling asleep and / or my head hurting because it has to be turned to the right to avoid severe esophageal burns...) during the treatment itself.  Of course, the skin burning and hardening could eventually be uncomfortable, but only time will tell on that.  It doesn't hurt today.

Finally, I met with Dr. Marquez after the treatment.  I will meet with her each Tuesday after my treatments.  She told me planning my treatment was difficult because of the spread of the area that needed to be covered.  She was happy to report that my heart will not get much radiation, but disappointed to report that 35% of my left lung will get radiated.  She has had two other patients similar to me, and both have experienced shortness of breath, etc, for about a year after treatment.  She expressed concern that it could affect my ability to argue for long periods of time in court....but I'm sure most judges and defense attorneys will be thrilled that I'll have to learn to be more succinct!  Not shockingly, Greg was also not distressed to hear the news of my potentially having to speak less and in shorter sentences.

The lung radiation also increases my risk of lung cancer, but she said that's really only a concern if I smoke or am exposed to second-hand smoke so...SMOKERS: you're now going to have to quit.  HAM I'm looking at you!  (I love you!!!)

They were able to schedule my treatments around my schedule.  I printed out 8 weeks from my work calendar, and highlighted the things I had to go to, and they worked around everything.  It was great.  (And, I think one of the team members in particular felt at that point we were kindred-highlighting-nerd-spirits!)

The only thing about this that is worse than chemo (so far) is that it is EVERY FREAKING DAY.  The reality of that set in yesterday.  EVERY DAY I have to drive up the hill for this treatment, find parking, take the elevator, check in, change my clothes, lay on a cold hard table for 20-30 minutes....E V E R Y  D A Y.  That is just so unexciting to me.  BUT: now that it's started, I'm that much closer to being done so there's the silver lining!

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Radiation Simulation

Yesterday I had two appointments:

First, I met with Dr. Hansen, my plastic surgeon, who seemed surprised that I was already back at work and pleased that things are going well.  I'm healing nicely, apparently.  I have some exercises to keep the scar tissue that can build up around the implants at bay.  Apparently, during radiation as my skin becomes more sensitive this gets harder to do but is all the more important then because of the potential for the area around the implant to harden, making things look less natural (than they already do...)  Dr. Hansen is really the sweetest!  I am so lucky to have her as my plastic surgeon.  I know that anytime I have any concerns at all she's just a phone call away.

Next, I headed up the hill for my Radiation Simulation.  At this appointment, they marked my chest up with markers, put stickers all over me, and gave me a CT scan.  After that, I was given three little tattoos--just little black dots--one on my chest, and one on each rib cage.  You know, in college I was going to get a tattoo with a friend...and now I'm really glad I didn't.  It was unpleasant, and I still feel a little bruised from it today!

I also got my first radiation appointment scheduled, I will start Tuesday, February 7th.  Radiation is M-F for six-and-a-half weeks, so that means that I will be done by March 23rd if we stay on schedule.  That is two weeks shy of my date of diagnosis.  Dr. Chui and I talked about what is in store for me after that--I thought, for example, I'd have semi-annual CT scans and / or bone scans and / or MRIs.  Not so, says he.  Because those all involve radiation, they have their own dangers.  Dr. Chui's position is that if I ever have symptoms that lead him to believe I'm metastatic, the timing of the discovery won't matter, it will be the "treatability" of the metastasis.  In other words: I could come in with a grapefruit-sized tumor that he could completely shrink with chemo or I could come in with a speck of cancer on a bone that grows like crazy despite chemo, and then we'll know if I'll be able to "live with cancer" for a long time or not.  I don't really like thinking about this.  At all.  I find myself wondering if the anxiety about this will ever go away.  I have to imagine that with each passing year of cancer-free-ness my mind will be more at ease, but (as Tom Petty says) the Waiting is the HARDEST Part!

In other news, my Mom is still staying at the house as I get to a point where I can safely lift little O.  This is great in all aspects but one, and that is O's strong preference for his GRANNY!  (I know he'd have these phases even if we weren't going through all of this, I do--but it's still no fun for me.)  G has been down sick with a flu or really bad cold since Sunday (today is his first day back to work, and he still sounded horrible this morning) so having my Mom around has been even more helpful!  BUT I think that we'll go "back to normal" next week and see how we do...if O and Granny can handle being apart!

In other, other news, I have a new obsesh: DOWNTON ABBEY.  Thanks to co-worker JH for encouraging me to watch it.  I had thought about watching it, but his enthusiasm for the show pushed me over the edge.  Last week, Mom and I watched the first season in a 2-day marathon...and then I watched the new season's episodes online so I'm all caught up.  LOVE IT.  Highly recommend, whether you're recovering from a surgery or not!

That's about it from here!!!

Thursday, January 19, 2012

It's Not That Bad

There's not much to report, except to say that the surgery went really well and I'm not in much pain.  I'm tired and tender, but compared to how I felt before this is NOTHING.

Thanks everyone for your notes.  We are just plugging along, and I'll be back to normal before you know it!

Monday, January 2, 2012

Happy New Year

Last week I had my last fill of my tissue expanders before my surgery in two weeks.  Before I started getting fills, Dr. Chui had told me that sometimes his patients could barely even lift their arms to shake his hand after a fill...After my first two fills I thought that was really weird.  However, my last two fills were a completely different story--SO SORE.  I now understand what he was talking about.  And it's not that the skin feels stretched, it's the pressure INSIDE the chest cavity that is unbearable.  The expanders press down on your rib cage, which makes me short of breath and makes my back have muscle spasms, too...

BUT: no more fills so even though today, 4 days later, I'm still sore...I'm not going to complain (anymore.  About that).

Some people have asked how the fill even happens--the expander has a metal port in it.  The doctor uses this little magnet to find the port:

 ...and then she "marks" the spot with this:


After that, some betadyne gets swabbed on and then a needle is inserted through the skin into the port.  Thanks to the mastectomy, the skin is very numb so I don't feel the needle going in despite the fact that it's about an inch long.  Here's a picture I found on the internet to demonstrate...I don't know if my expander looks exactly like this or not:



This weekend was very mellow.  I was a little bit misty on New Year's Eve reflecting on what this year ended up being for me.  It started out with a trip to watch the Ducks lose the National Title and it went downhill from there.  On the other hand, O grew another year and is a constant source of joy and amusement, and I have experienced the love and support of friends and family that normally one wouldn't feel.  So even though 75% of 2011 sucked, there were many bright spots during that suck-i-tude.

I know better than to tempt fate by saying it couldn't be worse.  It could be.  A LOT.  I know that.  BUT: it wasn't fun.  And at least 25% of 2012 is going to suck too.

The good news is that I'm still here, the cancer isn't going to kill me today, or tomorrow, or the day after that...(and so on)....and I have a beautiful son and loving husband and friends and family to remind me to keep my chin up and keep on fighting.

I can't WAIT to be done with all of this!

Until then, Happy New Year to you, from us: