One Year Later...

It has been a year since my OB/GYN found the lump in my breast during a routine breast exam while I was in for my annual gynecological exam. Actually, it was a year on June 16th, but I went back for this year's exam today, June 20th. I don't mind saying that I was kinda holding my breath while she did my breast exam. I mean, I check myself regularly now. I didn't before the diagnosis, which leads me to see this as just one more time in my life (among countless others) when God showed me grace and protected me from my own idiocy.

Ladies,

DO MONTHLY BREAST SELF-EXAMS!!!!!

Anyway, despite the fact that I do my own exams regularly these days, I was still a bit concerned that she might find something I hadn't. I mean, she's the one who found the last lump. It was an irrational fear, I know, but I felt it none-the-less. I should let you know how much I love my OB/GYN. I've been going to her for years and years now. When I first found her, I lived quite a bit closer to where her office is located. These days it takes me closer to an hour to get there, since we've moved in the intervening years. But I don't mind the trip. Not for her. She is a master at making you feel comfortable and at ease in spite of what's going on. We always chat like we're sitting at a cafe table instead of with me naked as the day I was born with my legs up in stirrups. LOL  So while she was doing my breast exam we just chatted as usual. She was very thorough this time and I appreciated that. Not that she isn't always thorough, but she took a bit of extra time today. And praise God, she didn't find anything at all out of the ordinary. There was one funny moment when she felt my port beneath my skin and got a worried look on her face for just an instant before she realized what it was. We were both laughing about that.

We spent some time talking about my treatment, how it had gone and what I still had left to do. We talked about my not being able to take birth control pills ever again. This is an issue that has kind of confused both Mark and me since I was first told it by my Oncologist last year some time. My cancer was not hormone receptive. Most breast cancers are. So we kept trying to figure out why I had to avoid taking hormones of any kind since my cancer was negative for progesterone and estrogen. She said she'd heard it explained thus: If you think of breast cancer as a weed, then the hormones act kind of like a fertilizer. Since I have shown the ability to grow cancer, the last thing we'd want to do is "feed" my cells something that the cancer likes to eat. What a simple explanation!

Needless to say, I walked out of the office feeling a lot better this year than I did last year. The next big date will be my mammogram. That's coming up next month. It'll be my first since shortly before I got my official diagnosis last year. I've been x-rayed and scanned half to death plenty of times in the past year, but the mammogram is a big deal. One of my favorite sayings I've seen since I started my treatment is, "One more MRI and I'll stick to the fridge." I also like, "Any more radiation and I'll glow in the dark." There's also, "My oncologist does my hair." I put all these on t-shirts in my Zazzle store. There's a lot more than that, but these are some of the ones that still crack me up when I see them today.

So, what's happening a year later? What have I learned? Honestly, I don't know that I necessarily learned anything, other than the obvious experience of having gone through all the treatment. I went into it knowing I was going to need God to get me through it. And I have to say that He did. By His grace, I came through it all with flying colors. I don't know that I learned anything, per se, but I do know that I recognized a lot of things. I have spent this entire journey marveling at how much God has blessed me. Every step of the way, He supplied my needs, as He has promised us He would. But He went further and gave me so much more than just what I needed.

He didn't merely provide Mark with a job that would supply us with insurance. He gave Mark a job with the best insurance we have ever had, bar none. And this job also started out as a day shift job, working a schedule that allowed Mark to be off 2-3 days each week so that he'd be able to not only take me to my treatments, but be home on the first day or so afterward to take care of me. God didn't just supply me with treatment options, He blessed me with the option to get all my care at a location that was less than half an hour from home. He didn't just allow the medications I took to fight my cancer, He allowed me to take those medicines without enduring anything close to the worst of their possible side effects. God didn't just give me a husband who does his responsibility of providing for my physical needs, but He gave me a husband who loves me more than any other person on earth. One who made incredible sacrifices without complaint or reluctance. The list could go on and on and on.

I've recently taken part in an online conversation with a young man who in an atheist. He, like so many others, wanted us to explain to him, intellectually, how we came to believe in God. How we know God is real despite the fact that we have no proof. I wasn't the only one who responded that we do have proof. Aside from the fact that the Bible says that Creation itself is evidence of God's existence, I know God is real because I have seen the evidence of His hand touching my life. Oh, I know that atheists would call it coincidence or good luck or fate or a whole host of other things. But I know God is there. I have felt His touch on my life, heard His whisper in my ear, and witnessed His grace more times than I can count. There's a song that has been sung by many artists. I learned it courtesy of The Florida Boys. It's called, "My God Is Real."

There are some things I may not know, there are some places I can't go, but I am sure of this one thing, my God is real for I can feel Him in my soul.

My God is real, He's real in my soul, my God is real for He has washed and made me whole, His love for me is like pure gold. My God is real for I can feel Him in my soul.

I cannot tell just how I felt when Jesus washed my sins away, but since that day yes since that hour, God has been real for I can feel His holy power.

My God is real, He's real in my soul, my God is real for He has washed and made me whole, His love for me, is like pure gold. My God is real for I can feel Him in my soul.

Here's a video of them singing it, if you're interested:

As I recently told the young atheist, we can't provide him with scientific proof of God. For us, we believe God is real by faith, but countless experiences every day of our lives also confirm our faith. We see God everywhere, in everything. I know I certainly do.

And so, a year into living life as a woman with breast cancer, what I can say I have learned is that God is still real. He is still on the throne. Nothing happens by chance or luck or fate. Everything is part of His grand plan and He is never, ever far from our sides. I am so grateful for what He has given me. For His infinite love and patience and blessing, even when I don't deserve it. My God is real. And He's indescribably great!

Getting Back to Normal...

Normal. It's a relative term. But then everything in life is relative. Einstein sure had that right! Every thought, fear, and emotion is relative to our own personal experience and views. "Normalcy" is no different. They (scientists and/or psychologists) spend a lot of time studying what is normal. They run all kinds of tests, compile reams of data and statistics, then create charts and reports to explain what is or is not normal for an average, normal person. Personally, I think most of it is malarkey.

Still, I confess that I believe nothing about cancer treatment is "normal." The moment you hear that word come out of the mouth of a doctor "normal" goes right out the window. Maybe forever. But despite the lunacy of the treatment and the discomfort of the side effects, it all eventually comes to an end. The chemo and radiation - and by extension their side effects - are temporary. You get it, then you're done. They tell you that you'll start getting back to normal within a few weeks or months, depending on a lot of other factors. I can't really speak to that with authority yet because I have not gotten back to "normal." I'm getting there, though. There might be a mitigating factor keeping me from recovering as quickly as I should, but more on that later. First let's talk about what is changing.

The hair is the most obvious thing, I suppose. It's just growing like crazy. It's actually gotten long enough now that I have to take a comb to it after a shower or risk looking like a character from a Japanese Anime cartoon.

Not sure if he's sharing my opinion of his hairstyle here or not, 
but I know I give it a "thumb's down" when it's on my head.

So, I try to keep it under control, but have issues with the hair right over my ears. It's too short to keep tucked behind my ears and too long to just lay there nicely. It generally sticks straight out over my ears. Mark called me Mercury today. You know, the messenger of the gods who had wings on his feet and the sides of his head. Yeah.

Eventually the hair will get long enough to actually do something with it and I'm looking forward to that. For now I'm just glad that it's finally starting to fill in so that I don't look so much like a balding man. It's still a little thin in front, but it's filling in. I've got eyelashes again. At least more than I had for a while there. And my eyebrows are coming back, too. Unfortunately, along with the hair on my head, the hair in my armpits and on my legs is returning as well. Alas, shaving will soon be a part of my routine once more. It's a real shame that they can't come up with some way to engineer the chemo to kill of armpit and leg hair for good. Sigh.

So, the hair coming back is a good thing. I really, really miss having hair on my head. I keep looking at all my head bands, scrunchies, and barrettes with longing. I could wear the headbands, I guess, but what would be the point? They'd just make what little hair I have stick out like crazy. Believe me, I caught a glimpse of myself reflected in a glass door the other day with my sunglasses pushed up onto my head. It was NOT pretty. Along with the return of my hair, though, come some less than welcome parts of my old "normal."

I have been sick with sinus issues for two weeks now. It was very unpleasant for a while there. It's mostly gone now, aside from a nagging cough as I struggle to get rid of the last of the congestion that set up in my chest. I've got a sinking feeling, though, that this was just the beginning. I think my allergies are going to be a bear this year. If the stuffy nose and sneezing are already starting then it doesn't bode well for the rest of the growing season. None of this is cancer related, however. I mention being sick because I have felt terrible for several days. And just when I started feeling better a new problem cropped up. I woke up with a headache one day and it didn't leave for another three. I have most definitely not missed the migraines. They've been gloriously absent through my cancer treatment thanks to the impact the chemo had on my hormones. Now that they're getting back to "normal," though, the headaches triggered by them are returning as well. This was the first migraine I've had in months. Not looking forward to that routine again.

On a related note, I haven't had a menstrual cycle in months either. I expect them to be starting up again soon as well. I'm dreading that more than the return of the migraines. Without going into a lot of gory detail, my periods were nightmarish when I was young. I've been on birth control pills continuously for more than two decades. They helped regulate my cycles. (They also helped mitigate the migraines.) But I can't take birth control any longer so I'm concerned that the nightmare periods I experienced in my teens might return. All I can do is ask for prayer that this won't happen. Seriously, I really don't want to go through that kind of pain again. Sigh, again.

Now to the one side effect that should be easing but hasn't so far. Fatigue comes with both chemo and radiation. In truth, it's just part and parcel of the whole cancer experience. The treatment causes it, but the constant running back and forth for all the tests, doctor's appointments, and treatments adds to the problem. Once treatment ends, your body and mind can begin healing from all the abuse and the fatigue starts lifting. As a point of fact, I have read many accounts from other survivors that suggest it takes months or even a year or more to get back to "normal." Still, I expected to notice some improvement. I haven't. If anything, Mark and I have noticed that I seem to be more tired. I have chalked it up to lingering effects of the treatment. Today I got an indication that I might be wrong about that.

I mentioned before that I have to get regular tests to monitor the function of my heart. I got the first one before I got my first chemo. It was to give them a baseline to compare future tests to and to ensure that my heart was strong enough to endure the chemo. I received Adriamycin, which is known to be potentially damaging to the heart. This damage can be temporary or permanent and can appear with no warning at all either during treatment or at some point in the future. After completing the Adriamycin, I began getting Herceptin. This is not chemo, but is a medical therapy which is used to treat my specific kind of cancer. It targets a particular protein that is present in my cancer and makes it impossible for cells with that protein to reproduce. Unfortunately, Herceptin can also cause heart damage. I began the Herceptin in November and am supposed to receive it for a full year. They check my heart function regularly to make sure the Herceptin is not impacting it.

My baseline MUGA revealed my heart function to be 61%. Anything above 50% is considered normal. (There's that word again. LOL) In November, just before I began receiving Herceptin, it was 59%. In March it had dropped to 55% and my doctor mentioned that he was concerned enough to schedule my next MUGA early. I had it this past Tuesday and he gave me the results today. My heart function has dropped to 38%. This is, needless to say, a significant drop in my heart's pumping ability. It may very well explain why I am still feeling so tired all the time. So I did not get any Herceptin today. I will not be getting any until and unless my heart function rebounds. I will be getting another MUGA in approximately six weeks. They will set it up and call me with the date. Until then I just keep going. I have no activity restrictions, which is very good. Mark was worried about it and specifically asked the doctor that question. At this point there is no reason to flip out. Well, there's never a reason to flip out, but you get what I mean, I hope. If it is merely due to the Herceptin then it should bounce back fairly quickly. If it rebounds dramatically, we will try starting up the Herceptin again and see what happens. If it doesn't, then that's something we'll deal with once we get there.

In other news, I got all the results from my genetic testing and I am negative for either of the BRAC genes as well as any other genetic anomaly that might be to blame for my cancer. This is good news. At least I'm not carrying around a ticking time bomb just waiting to mutate some more cells. I might still have some stray cancer cells floating around somewhere that might someday take root and start growing again, but I'm not genetically predisposed to breast cancer at least. That's cause for celebration. Sadly, I was so sick around my birthday and over the past couple of weeks (and Mark was sick the week before that) that we still have not gotten around to having a celebratory dinner. I'm not bothered by it, though. I'm just grateful beyond words that I didn't have to make this journey alone. Not only do I have God to see me through it, He saw fit to give me a wonderful husband to help as well. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Lord! 

So, things are getting back to normal but normal isn't what it used to be. I'm not sure it will ever be completely the same again. But that's okay. Change is a fact of life and we all have to learn to live with it whether we like it or not. Generally speaking, I don't feel bad. My cold or whatever it was is mostly gone. I can finally sleep through the night again, which is something I couldn't manage for several days there due to the congestion in my sinuses and my chest. I spent more than one night sitting up in a recliner. It was not a fun time. But God got me through it with relative speed. I had medicine to take and it didn't turn into anything that I needed a doctor for. I see all this as a blessing. As my favorite motto says, it could always have been worse.

On another unrelated note, I need to thank God for one more big blessing. I had to be in Madison at 7AM Tuesday morning for that MUGA scan. That means we left home a bit before 6:30. It was still twilight out there and raining with the roads very wet and countless spots with heavy ponding on the roadway. We were moving along at a reasonable speed when we suddenly realized the road in front of us was blocked by a massive mudslide. This was the second one in a week along the same stretch of road. Mark couldn't swerve around it because there was an oncoming car. By the grace of God he got the car stopped before we plowed into the tangle of mud and trees. I tried to call 911, but was getting so much static on the line that I hung up. Then I tried to call the Jefferson County Sheriff's office but got a busy signal. I was waiting for a few moments to try to call them again when we passed a sheriff's car heading in the direction of the slide. His lights were off, so I don't know if he was responding to a call about it or if he just happened to be heading that way, but as Mark said, he'd find it either way. By the time we reached the hospital a few minutes later they were already reporting it on the radio. They had the road closed for more than 24 hours while they cleaned it all up. We passed it today and it's just amazing how much of the hill came down on the road.

As I said, it could always be worse. Thank God for His mercy and grace and protection. Whatever comes of my heart, I know I can rely on Him to take me through it. That's all I need to know.

Please Just Let Me Sleep!

You know, all the research I did indicated that the Adriamycin/Cytoxin portion of my chemo would be the worst part. The Taxotere & Herceptin aren't supposed to be as tough. So, when that 4th and final A/C treatment came and went I was just plain thrilled. I kept thinking that the worst was over. Lord willing, it would all be downhill from there. Then that whole mouth abscess thing happened and I kid you not, it was the worst pain I've ever had. I was ready to have Mark just shoot me and be done with it. The left side of my face was ridiculously swollen. Mark said I looked like a hamster packing for the winter. LOL The dentist prescribed one antibiotic for me, but after taking it a couple of days and not really feeling any better, I stopped in down at my oncologist's office and he added a second antibiotic to the first. So, we took it up to the pharmacy, got it filled (along with a new, stronger pain med he also prescribed) and I took the first antibiotic as soon as Mark brought it out of the store. We got home a little while later and I went to lay down for a while. When I woke up a couple of hours later, I had a few hives on my head and face. Now, hives aren't all that odd for me because of my allergies. I get them occasionally and with the chemo, Mark and I figured I'm even more susceptible than usual to allergens. So we didn't worry too much about it. After a couple of hours, they mostly went away. The new antibiotic was one of those heavy duty ones that only has to be taken once a day, which I was grateful for since the other one was on a 4 times a day schedule. I hate taking pills, mostly because I tend to get choked on them. Anyway, the next day came around and I took the second antibiotic and within half an hour the hives were back. I had more of them this time, too. So, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that it was the new antibiotic. I called the Dr. and he called in another one and I am now officially allergic to Levoquin. So, by now my jaw was starting to feel a little better and the swelling was improving. I kept taking my 2 antibiotics and after another couple of days, I was no longer in constant pain.

I should add that during this time a second abscess showed up. This one was right on my tailbone. It had been sore, but I just thought I had sat on it funny or sat on it too much while I felt really bad the week before. It was very sore, but I didn't know for sure that it was an abscess until it started draining just a little bit over the weekend. Mark and I made more than a few jokes about how long the root on that abscessed tooth must have been for the abscess there to travel all the way down my spine and pop out on my tailbone! LOL I figured I'd have to call the Dr. on Monday (October 25) and have him look at the abscess. I was also thinking that I was already taking 2 antibiotics and surely they would keep any potential infection under control.

I didn't feel all that well when I woke up Monday morning. Mark was actually off on vacation. He'd taken time off to go to work for a few days down in Tennessee for Colgate, but when my tooth issue became such a mess, he wound up staying home to make sure I'd be okay. Monday was his last day off. He was supposed to go back to work on Tuesday & Wednesday.

As the day went on, I was laying on the couch and I just kept feeling worse. Eventually I realized I was running a fever because I was freezing to death. I headed into the bathroom to check it and it was high, but not in the danger zone yet. (I was told in chemo training that if it hit 101.5 I was to go to the ER.) I have a small heater in my bathroom and I fired it up and parked myself in the floor in front of it. Then, once the chill was off of the room, I took a hot shower. Of course, this was the wrong thing to do because it all just drove my temperature higher. I got out of the shower and got into bed. My temp was higher at this point, but I knew the heater and the hot shower would have added to it so I told Mark I was going to wait a half hour or so before I checked it again. He insisted that I try to eat something, though I wasn't hungry at all. He made me some soup and I ate a few spoonfuls of it. When I checked my temp again, it was right at 101.6. I really didn't want to go to the ER, so I had Mark call the Dr.'s office. He was in with a patient and the nurse said she'd talk to him and call me back. About twenty minutes later I checked my temp again and it had climbed to 102 so I told Mark we were just going to go ahead and go to the hospital. He called the nurse back and let her know we were leaving. We took the thermometer with us and I was sure that by the time we got to the hospital my temp would have gone down. Especially since it was cool out that day and Mark had the window cracked as we drove. But just as we got to Madison I checked it again and it was at 102.7. In the ER they checked it using an oral thermometer and it was below 101. I told them I'd just been drinking a cold drink so they said they'd check it again shortly. Half an hour or so later the nurse came in and checked it at my armpit. It was 101 or 102, I can't remember. But she decided to recheck it orally on a whim and it was 103.

The Dr. ordered a CT scan of my new abscess and sure enough, there was a small pocket in it. So he lanced it there in the ER. NOT a fun experience! The lancing wasn't bad, but those shots to numb it hurt like the dickens! They put in an IV and loaded me up with a new antibiotic, and eventually gave me some Tylenol down in the ER just before they moved me upstairs to a room. The fever broke and I felt quite a bit better once it did. I was seriously hoping that I might somehow get to go home the next day. Should have known that wasn't going to happen. They put me on a total of 4 different antibiotics. 3 were oral and one was a giant dose administered through the IV. We found out right off the bat that the IV that was put in down in the ER wasn't good. They had trouble with it when they tried to administer the contrast for the CT scan, but once I got upstairs my nurse couldn't get it to work at all. So that IV came out and a new one went in on my other arm. I should have just had them access my port, but I was still hoping I wouldn't be there that long. Apparently the IV antibiotic is fairly nasty. It burns up your veins so it had to be administered over about a 4 hour drip.

That night my fever spiked again. It hit 103.5. We tried Ibuprofen or Tylenol (can't remember which because they gave me both) but it didn't drop fast enough. So we resorted to cold washrags in my armpits and the bends of my elbows. This eventually worked. I swear, coming down off the fevers was almost as bad as having them. When the fever was up I would shiver and chill so hard that my teeth would chatter. Then, once it started dropping I would first get hot. I mean hot like a oil radiator. This would inevitably be followed by absolutely disgusting sweating. I'd be soaking wet. It really wasn't any fun at all.

I saw the Dr. early the next morning and he let me know that I'd be staying in the hospital until at least Thursday. I was not happy, but Mark and I both knew that it would be crazy to try to come home when I was spiking such high fevers. Long story short, my fever continued to do a wild yo yo over the next couple of days. It would almost always spike when I tried to sleep. Not that sleep was easy to come by. God bless my nurses and techs, they were all very sweet and took great care of me, but with all the antibiotics being taken on a bunch of different schedules and them coming in every 4 hrs or so to check my vitals, sleep wasn't something I got much of. Even when they did manage to get me a fair block of time without either a pill to take or vitals to check, I'd just wake up an hour or two after going to sleep with another fever. I got very skilled at recognizing when it was starting to climb.

My nurse on that second day decided to access my port for me. I was glad because after just 2 infusions of that antibiotic in my arm, it was starting to hurt. That's a big part of why I have the port. The Adriamycin chemo is what's called a vesicant. Basically, if it leaks out of the vein as it's being administered it can literally burn up whatever tissues it touches. (This is the same kind of stuff used in WWI as a biological weapon. Read: Mustard Gas.) It is so toxic that it cannot be administered through a common vein. The port places a catheter into one of the main veins in my chest and runs all the way to my heart. It is accessed with a nifty needle contraption that slips into a "dock" that's implanted just beneath my skin. I'll keep the port in for the duration of my chemo. That's more than a year. They may even leave it in place a little longer than that, just to be on the safe side.

The port (and it's catheter) allows them to administer toxic or irritating drugs like the chemo or this antibiotic without damaging my veins. It also meant they could run the antibiotic infusion at about twice the speed as they could when the IV was in my arm. That made things a little easier, though my arm is still a little sore from the first couple of infusions I got.

Mark wound up having to take off both Tuesday & Wednesday because he just couldn't bring himself to work while worried about me. I was still spiking fevers at night when I slept. I was scared to death that the Dr. wouldn't let me go on Thursday and I think he did want me to stay, but I managed to convince him to let me go home. I was so exhausted by then. I had a previously scheduled appointment with my oncologist that afternoon and I called them right after we dropped my new prescriptions off at the pharmacy to see if they could get me in earlier. They did. It turned out that the abscess on my tailbone wasn't the cause of all my fevers after all. They did a culture on it and found nothing. What they did find was a Urinary Tract Infection that I didn't even know I had. Turns out that the second antibiotic my oncologist prescribed for me is the one normally used to treat UTI's but my particular UTI was resistant to it, so it wasn't doing anything to rein in the infection. The Dr. sent me home with 3 antibiotics to take. And you know I have to take all of them on a different schedule. One is every 12 hrs, one every 8, and one every 6. Basically, I get a 6 hr window once a day to try to sleep. The rest of the time I'm having to get up to take one of these massive pills.

The interesting thing is I never ran another fever once I got out of the hospital. By the time I left Thursday, they were pretty much keeping me dosed up on Tylenol and Ibuprofen just to keep the fever at bay. I took the nest regularly scheduled dose of Ibuprofen while I was sitting in the Dr.'s office. I missed the next regular dose by a couple of hours that evening because I pretty much went to sleep when we got home. In the hospital, my fever would usually spike as soon as the Tylenol or Ibuprofen wore off. Sometimes even sooner. So I was amazed I didn't have a fever when I woke up. I went ahead and took some Ibuprofen, but that was the last time I took any and no more fevers. I will admit that I'm a little worried that the mouth abscess or some other issue will pop right back up once the antibiotics run out, but I'm just going to trust that God will keep them all at bay.

This has not been a fun time. I was so exhausted that I pretty much slept for the first 2-3 days after I got home. I couldn't believe how exhausted I was. I feel a lot better now, but I'm still pretty tired. Of course the infection means we had to put off my next course of chemo. I see my oncologist next week to talk about it. The fever is gone, but I've been having problems with my back ever since I was in the hospital. I was on a muscle relaxer while on the chemo because of issues we assumed were caused by either the chemo or the Neulasta or maybe both. After finishing that 4th chemo course I went off the muscle relaxers. In the hospital my back started bothering me again. I got a refill on the muscle relaxers but so far they haven't made much of a difference. I have issues moving around comfortably and bending over more than twice is almost impossible. My back just seizes up and that's that. I guess I'm going to wind up having to go back to the Dr. about it and see if we can figure out exactly what's going on. Sitting around all the time probably isn't helping, but it's a catch 22. I hurt if I move (or just feel too bad in general to do much) and not moving probably makes it worse.

I had to laugh last Monday, though. When the Dr. let me out on Thursday he only did so after making sure I'd follow up with my family Dr. on Monday. So when I saw him he was going over my chart and Mark and I were laughing about all the various issues I'd had over the past couple of weeks and he said, "Well, it could always be worse." There's my motto again! As bad as the pain from my mouth abscess was, and as unpleasant as those fevers were, I knew very well as I went through it all that it could be worse. I have so very many things to be thankful for. I have access to the medications I need because we have good insurance. Not just good, awesome. I've had 4 chemo courses so far with 4 more Taxotere courses to come and  a year's worth of Herceptin. The price tag for EACH of those first 4 treatments is over $20,000.00. Yeah, that's twenty thousand dollars times 4. I don't know if the Taxotere and Herceptin will be just as expensive or cheaper, but I do know that I am not paying a penny for my treatments. With all the surgeries and Dr.'s visits, I hit that out of pocket maximum pretty early on. This insurance was dropped into our laps right at the same time that I was diagnosed. Tell me that wasn't God's Providence! He knew what was coming and provided Mark with a job and insurance right when we needed it even though we weren't looking for it! I am so amazed by how He provides even when we don't know what we need. I'm even more amazed that so many people out there call something like that "coincidence." It's sad to live your life relying on accidents, coincidences and lucky breaks to help you out when you're in trouble. I'd much rather trust that God is in charge and will always do what's best for me, even if I don't understand what He's up to.

So I'm a lot better than I was this time last week or the week before. My back hurts most of the time, but at least I can still move when I need to. And a little bit of praise for my hubby. He's doing it all around here. He does the dishes and laundry and even cooks. My appetite isn't all that good, probably partly due to the antibiotics. Mark made us a pair of steaks day before yesterday and it was pretty doggone good. One of the best things I've eaten since I first got sick a couple of weeks ago. Not much else has been very appetizing. I even made a big pot of vegetable beef soup and though it tastes okay, I haven't felt much like eating it. Half the time I make something then don't actually want to eat it. I'm hoping my appetite will come back once I finish up the antibiotics. That'll be in the next day or so. It's not like I can't afford to lose some weight, but I don't like the slightly queasy feeling that accompanies the lost appetite. Food smells tend to make it worse, which is weird because I didn't have any trouble with that while actively on chemo. That was another issue with the hospital. The food is just plain AWFUL! I told Mark that the moment I lifted the lid off that tray whatever appetite I might have had vanished. He brought me in a couple of meals but even they didn't sit all that well with me. It really stinks to be hungry with a growling stomach but to get nauseous at the thought of actually eating most things. LOL Like I said, it could always be worse, though. At least I can eat. Some can't. And though I'm kinda queasy, I'm not actually vomiting. All in all, things are pretty decent these days. I'm just hoping I can get back on schedule with my chemo treatments. I really want to get through the Taxotere. The Herceptin is a targeted chemo, meaning it doesn't attack my entire body like the others. This also means that it shouldn't be nearly as hard to take. The Taxotere is a traditional chemo, but they say it isn't as bad as the A/C, so I want to get it over with. Plus, I still have the radiation to get through. This journey is a long way from being over, but at least it's easier than the path some are on.

Sicky Sickness Stay Away

Okay, the dreaded chemo crash that I expected on Wednesday hasn't really manifested itself. At least, not in any way that I expected. Considering the whole "wrapped in cotton" feeling my brain had on Wednesday, I expected to be counting myself fortunate to string together more than a few grunted syllables by Thursday, or Friday at the latest. But then I felt much better on Thursday. Not quite so tired, not so "foggy." So Mark and I ran a few errands that needed to be done.

First off, I reckon I should mention that Mark convinced me to buy some masks at Wal-Mart back when we were doing The Great Chemotherapy Shopping Extravaganza. The idea came not from anything we were told officially by any medical person, but from a little old man who came into the treatment center with his wife and wanted a mask to protect himself from the rest of us. So, I looked at Mark and thought, "that's probably not such a bad idea." Mark, of course, was all for it. He is a germaphobe at heart. So, we got the masks but I have not put them in my purse and so have not actually used one while out in public. As logical and rational as it is - even smart - to protect myself from all those germs out there, I just haven't quite been able to put myself into a frame of mind to go out in public looking like some paranoid Asian during the bird flu scare.

So, what have I gotten for my pride and hesitation? SICK! Yes, that's right, I'm sick with some kind of pesky chest cold. I felt the beginnings of a sore throat Thursday night, then woke up feeling much worse on Friday morning. I had a temperature of about a degree, which isn't much of course, but it was enough to worry me because I knew it meant I was really sick. The instructions we're given as chemo patients is that if we get sick - as in running a fever - we are NOT to treat it with anything that will bring the fever down. No Tylenol, ibuprofen, Alieve, etc. This is because they will only mask the fever, lowering it artificially without doing anything at all for whatever is causing it. So we are to watch the fever, check it often, and if it hits 101, we go directly to the ER. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

My fever has never risen above a degree or so, which I am so very thankful for. I do not want to wind up in the hospital. I do not want to have to postpone any of my treatments while I try to fight off some bug. I called the Dr's office Friday morning, just to give them a heads up about being sick, then started rummaging through the medicine cabinet looking for something to take. Everything - and I do mean EVERYTHING - was expired! I guess I haven't been really sick for a while. I did have some NyQuil, but it contains Tylenol, plus alcohol, so I couldn't use it. Plus, my chest was aching, leading me to conclude that what I really needed was an expectorant to break whatever was in there up. So we made a trip down to CVS, I paid way too much for something I could have gotten at half the price at Wal-Mart, and I started taking some Mucinex. I am also using my inhalers, which have at least helped to keep my chest from feeling so terribly tight.

I've been taking the Mucinex since Friday afternoon, and I can feel it finally working a bit. My chest still aches some, but I can tell that I need to start coughing this mess up and out. Not looking forward to that, seeing as how coughing is uncomfortable. But I gotta do what I gotta do.

The long and short of this whole thing is, I reckon I will be wearing a mask in public from now on. At least I'll wear one any time I'm in a crowd of any size. I am already carrying around hand sanitizer and antibacterial wipes, this will just be one more thing to add to the circus. That's the funny thing about this whole process. Pride is one of the first things to have to get chucked out the window. The whole hair loss thing bothered me. Still does a little. But ultimately, I realize that I don't much care what I look like so long as I feel half-way decent. I joked with Mark that I ought to shave my legs but I'm holding out for the chemo to finally kick in and save me from having to do that chore again for a while. My legs are hairy and I don't care.

Hmmm.... sing with me (to the tune of Jimmy Crack Corn):

My legs are hairy and I don't care,
my legs are hairy and I don't care,
my legs are hairy and I don't care!
Chemotherapy!