The Results are In!

It dawned on me today, after being questioned by numerous people at work, that unless you happened to see the post on Facebook over the weekend, you probably didn't know the results of my latest scans and appointments. Whoops! I forgot to post the news here! 

It's been kind of a whirlwind weekend (more on that later), but I wanted to get the word out to all of you that were wondering.

It was a "good news" kind of appointment. Kind of weird actually, because I don't normally have those, but I'm really looking forward to many more of them!

1. Blood work and scans all look good! Well, for the most part. I still need an MRI to confirm these results because several areas not seen by mammogram. (The MRI is not for several weeks though, so stay tuned).

2. Prescription for new meds in hand. These meds still might make me crazy, but at least I'll have a baseline and can compare which med made me the least crazy.

3. Dr. has heard the story of my HORRIBLE experience at the Seattle office through the grapevine and has decided to complain on my behalf in hopes of instituting change for others.

4. Dr. also feels that billing department hasn't been nice to us, and has decided to champion that cause on my behalf also.

5. Reasons why I LOVE my doctors confirmed!

6. We ended the afternoon at a friend's house where we brought lunch in exchange for seeing her twin babies. It was a good day all around!

Doctor did bring up some interesting points, which I am pondering, and may write more about in an upcoming post.

Was the Tamoxifen really making me crazy, or was it that taking it every day was a constant reminder of having cancer? Well, I grant her there might be some credibility to that argument, but I vote CRAZY. Ask anyone, especially anyone forced to live or work with me. CRAZY! And whatever the reason, since I stopped taking it, I'm starting to feel slightly more sane. Will fill the prescription this for the new drug she prescribed and start taking it soon to see if there's a difference. 

She's also concerned that my dire need to not live in my house anymore isn't going to make me better. She called it "bringing your muddy shoes to a new house." Dealing with my issues will make me feel better than moving to a new house. Or at least, that's what she thinks. And to this, I respectfully disagree...until proven otherwise. New house, new car, new life...all of it is about celebrating being alive. Embracing the things that are actually important. Simplifying. Enjoying. Finding a new place in the world where I'm not reminded of being sick. Life's too short...time to start living the dream.

So, that's my news for now. Thank you for all your prayers, support, messages of love...

Scan-ticipation is Making Me Wait...

It's that time...the first (of many over the course of the next five years) series of scans/bloodwork/doctor's appointments is coming up.

It has been four months since my last set of scans and appointments, so now it's time for another round. This batch, however, will be the first after an extended period of time without treatment. 

I wish I could say that I was clever enough to have come up with "scan-ticipation," but I stole it from one of my cancer peeps. We also use the term "scanxiety." It's a scary thing to always be wondering what the next scan might reveal. And to have to continue to subject yourself to them for YEARS before you can actually get a clean bill of health.

So, while you think positive thoughts and hope for the best, in the back of your mind (or maybe closer to the front) you are always thinking, "what if....???"

In this day and age, I don't really understand why there can't be a test or scan or something I can do that would give the "all clear/thumbs up/no worries." Seriously, so maybe curing cancer is outside the realm of possibility (though I don't understand what's taking so long for that either), but there's got to be some sort of cool machine that I can walk through every morning that tells me, "yes! You're healthy! No more cancer!" You know, kind of like the machine at the airport. You mean to tell me we can't utilize the concept for a better purpose?!

Anyway, these are just rants designed to distract me from how anxious I'm feeling.

If you're reading this post, send out good vibes, positive thoughts, and all kinds of prayers tomorrow. I won't know anything unfortunately until next week when I meet with the doctor, so don't expect immediate news. Bummer.

Fingers crossed...

The Beginning of the Scans...And the Waiting...

There hasn't been a lot of news to share recently. I survived the food fest that was Vegas at Thanksgiving. I'll have to do a post showing all the pictures of all the yummy food and fun we had. It was a MUCH NEEDED and relaxing vacation with the family.

I still have to finish my "I'm so Thankful for..." posts. November ended before I could finish, and then I promptly forgot that I had many more gratitude posts to write (chemo brain!).

Today, however, marked the first "post-treatment" scan. 

Now, before you get too excited for news, you should know better. It's all about "hurry up and wait" as the follow-up appointment to discuss the results isn't until the end of the week. Awesome scheduling on their part. Whatever. 

And, as I discovered today, it's HIGHLY likely that today's scan was NOT scanning the parts with cancer, but every other part of my body that lit up on previous scans (pre- and mid-treatment) to see what's going on with my lungs, liver, kidneys. The technician was pretty convinced that chest and armpits would not be seen in the scan. UGH! Guess we'll be having that discussion with the doctor. I kinda thought today was a full-body, see everything you can, scan. Guess not. Did I already say UGH?!

But, lest you think I've lost my sense of humor, let me tell you about my day anyway.

I arrive at 9:15am for an 11:00am MRI. This is because the doctor has requested that I get a blood draw before the MRI, and so that the anesthesiologist has time to get all the IVs hooked up. (Yes, I finally discovered that I would not have to remember my trip through the scary tube of death...I could be completely under while it was happening. Thank you insurance company for paying for today's adventure!). In the reminder phone call, the doctor's office says, "just pop on by before your MRI for a blood draw." To me, that means pop on in when you get here and we'll draw your blood in a hurry and get you on your way. HA! What was I thinking? I should have known better! I've been dealing with these people for over a year and they are NEVER speedy...or on time. I was spoiled by the on-time percentage for radiation and forgot what a cluster the rest of the place was, especially on a Monday. So, after waiting 10 minutes just to CHECK IN, it's a 30 minute wait for the blood draw, which makes the MRI people really happy, by the way. I consider wandering the hallways of the hospital looking for anyone that could draw the blood for me. Keith even considers doing it at one point (and he probably could have after watching it done so many times). Four vials of blood and 40 minutes later, I'm on my way to check in for the MRI.

And this is where the day gets kind of interesting. And still has me considering writing a letter of complaint to the hospital. Now, I normally get awesome and friendly service from everyone not associated with a billing department. I only complain about time delays, I don't really hold it against them because everyone is still so pleasant. However, today was definitely an exception.

So, I check in for the MRI and am waited on by the RUDEST. GUY. EVER. Seriously. If he was my child, I would've smacked him. He's rude to me, he's rude to his coworkers (which actually pissed me off more)...he has me saying snarky things under my breath because I know he will not appreciate my humor today. And it just might make the situation worse (see, I am able to keep the humor in check when the situation necessitates it). I'm trying really hard to chalk it up to a bad morning on his part...maybe he just found out they're laying him off...I don't know. But then I realize that it's not just him. The MRI technician is rude to the anesthesiologist, the anesthesiologist and the nurses do a very poor job of communicating nicely to each other. All of this anger right in front of me, before a procedure I'm a little terrified of. Did the hospital just cut everyone's salary? WTH was going on there this morning?

Angry energy aside, there were some entertaining parts:
I was asked no less than 26 times today about my port and where it was placed and what kind it was. Which was removed in June. Which I've mentioned each and every time I've been in the hospital for a procedure since then and been asked the same question. Which everyone claims they will "update in my records." No, you may not administer drugs and/or do blood draws through the port...IT DOESN'T EXIST. How tough is this?!

The anesthesiologist could probably have given Hans and Franz a run for their money. He must have his scrubs custom made. Biggest muscles I've seen in a long time on someone not The Rock.

Said anesthesiologist kept forgetting what required questions he had already asked me (allergies, etc.) and was repeating himself a lot. Does not really inspire confidence in someone in charge of making sure I come out of this alive.

I am wheeled all the way down to the MRI "station" and only then is it discovered that no one has the drugs I'm supposed to get. And they all look at each other like they can't figure out who's supposed to be in charge of this. Again, really inspiring confidence.

A couple of positive takeaways from the day:
Hans/Franz did the IV himself. And he was good at it. And he thought to bring pediatric IV needles, and recommended that is what should have always been used on me. Thank you for this tidbit! Will be asking for these from now on!

Keith and I were sitting outside the oncologist's office (in the lounge area...anyone who drove me to radiation will know where I'm talking about) waiting for the blood draw. (All the seats inside the office were taken). At the table next to us was an older gentleman who had purchased a vitamin water and was waiting for his turn to be called also. I have my back to him, but Keith is watching him struggle to open the bottle. And Keith knows this because it is the same look and struggle that I have opening these bottles (damn, do they superglue the lids on these things?!). And chemo kills any hand or joint strength you might ever hope to have, so he knows that this guy is never going to open it. So he stands up, walks over to him, and asks if he can open the water for him. And the guy is so appreciative (because he's probably desperately thirsty like I am). I loved the whole interaction. Hubby was being nice to someone, not just me. I realized that I wasn't the only one in this situation. And this gentleman accepted the help (which could have seemed offensive or intrusive). Lesson to us all: offer help if you can give it. Accept it if you need it!

Stay tuned for news and results...will update when/if I find out anything!

Chemo, Round 4...Yeah, I'm Over It

Friday was my 4th round of chemo. For those of you actually keeping track, it should have been on Thursday, but I swapped days to buy myself some time see my daughter's theatrical debut in the school play. I was required to wear the Katy Perry wig because said daughter has started calling me "Patchy." "No really mom, I love you, and I think you look great, but you are kind of patchy." Fine, hint taken. But it was nice to be out and she really did rock the stage as quite the sassy milkmaid (Aesop's Fables).

First off, I am so over this whole cancer/chemo/sick person thing. SO. OVER. IT. You wake up on chemo days knowing exactly what you are in for in about 48 hours, and yet you still have to do it. It sucks! Enough said.

The highlight of my day is always the visit from my favorite pharmacist gal. I love how she pops in and says "hi" and sits and chats about whatever (including the craziness of the day or some of the things listed below). Or the crazy teenage boy...or the daughter's school play...doesn't matter. She always takes the time to chat. And if she does this with everyone, and remembers all the details for all of us, then she is pretty amazing! Today's joke was that my gorgeous view outside, which could have been the remarkably sunny, blue skies, was actually the beautiful cement wall surrounding the hospital. 

But I did learn some things today that would have been nice to know before now:

(1) See the last post regarding my complete loss of taste buds and how I probably could have prevented this with a few easy steps. Grrr.

(2) The squeaky wheel gets the grease! Every time we go, the process tends to take HOURS longer than it is supposed to. And I am always so nice. "Don't worry, I'm enjoying my book, whenever you get to it." Yep, I'm probably done being that patient. Friday we came a little early, because I wanted to be home in time to do the actress' hair and makeup before the show. All I had to do was say this to a sympathetic doctor and surprise! Blood draws were moved up, labs were rushed, and an empty chair was magically found. I was out the door earlier than normal, and even got home before school got out. (I wasn't expecting to be home until 5pm).

(3) I finally saw some lab results from a blood draw. Good news: my white blood cell count is off the charts..."amazing" was the word they used. Well, not amazing for you, but amazing for a cancer patient who's being poisoned. In fact, this round of Neulasta shot should be my last. HALLELUJAH! And these high numbers are probably why I've been feeling so much bone pain. Too many white blood cells and no where for them to go. Bad news: red blood cell count not great. Not bad yet, but close. Was compared to a gas tank...25 would be empty 45+ would be 1/2 full. My number is 31. This above all else explains why I'm so exhausted. Why I have to sit down halfway through a shower. Why walking 4 blocks in the neighborhood wipes me out for days. Unfortunately, I have to get this number back up and the only way to do so is to exercise. Damn, just when I was getting used to being a sloth. That couch has a comfortable cushion nicely shaped to my butt.

(4) The weight gain has been explained. Okay, besides being a sloth (see above), I did not realize that they were also shooting me up with steroids at these chemo infusions. (Seriously people, send me a detailed email with all this information. No one, especially someone suffering from chemo brain, should realistically be expected to retain these details). My favorite pharmacy gal laughed at me when I was complaining about gaining 4-5 pounds through this process. It happens to everyone (that doesn't get violently ill). And it won't go away until chemo is done. I am done blaming my lazy ass for this weight gain...It's the steroids! (At least, that's the story I'm selling).

(5) Just when you think paperwork can't get more stupid...HA! So now, you have to fill out a form every time you go in (name, birth date, etc.) and check the boxes that correspond to new symptoms that you are feeling. But if you aren't feeling any new ailments? You still have to fill out the form and write, "no new symptoms." Holy crap! And I now have to SPELL my first, middle, and last name, as well has give my birth date EVERY TIME someone speaks to me. And the trifecta? You now have to wear a sticker around that proves you've been "screened" for cold and flu. The sticker, which is just printed on a laser printer label that can be found at any paper supply store, says, "It's Friday and I've been screened for cold and flu." There's a new one for every day of the week. And if you aren't wearing it somewhere visible, they won't let you back (patient, family, visitor, staff member...everyone gets to play). What's funny about this? Want to know what the screening process is? "Are you experiencing any cold or flu symptoms today?" Answer "no" and you get a sticker. Or print them up yourself at home, I guess. Now, as annoying as this new feature is, I feel most sorry for all the staff that have to wear these EVERY DAY while at work. No thank you. 

So this is my most recent fun. I'll try and post pictures of the play. Did not get a picture with the milkmaid while she was in costume...bummer. 

Off to curl up in a dark room for the next few days and hope no one comes to bother me. Especially if they smell!