Well, it's Saturday.

It has taken me this long to get back to being myself.  The Queen of Neuroses has been reigning over me telling me that the problems I'm having typing are caused by a brain tumor.  I'm guessing it's more probable that I've had a mini stroke, considering it's just my left hand that can't type well.  Oh, speaking of strokes, I'd better go do my Arixtra shot... I'm late!  Be right back....

Ok, all shot up.  :)

I'm having cottage cheese cravings, now.  Which is good, I guess; plenty of protein.  Yesterday I was at Ironwood having my radiation sims run.  My leg now has 4 radiation entry points, and strangely, there's even one on my right leg.  I got fitted for the leg holding apparatus, and it's quite comfortable.  I wonder how long the actual zappage will be?  I'll have to count during my first one.  I tend to count anyway; it's how I dampen my anxiety during scans and radiations.  Wow, can't believe I have to do this again.  Oh well....

Love and hugs to all!

Remission -- No, NOT Me.

Wikipedia says that remission is defined as: “the state of absence of disease activity in patients with a chronic illness, with the possibility of return of disease activity.”

The Queen of Neuroses would have a field day if my doctor said I was in remission. That dread of waiting for the other shoe to fall, oh yes, the Queen would be in her element.

But I do know people in remission that have been that way for several, blessedly normal years. On the other hand some people who have gone into remission have seen a return of their cancer, but in a more pernicious form. And they soon die. One such was Andy Whitfield. Suffering from Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma, he completed his regimen of treatments, and was pronounced in remission. He was to return to work on “Spartacus: Blood and Sand.”

His remission lasted mere months, and when his cancer returned, it was more aggressive and more lethal. An oncologist, not related to his case, said that there are times when you can have a PET scan (the current gold standard for finding pesky cancer cells) and it finds nothing. Yet a single cell can remain, and that cell has the chance to adapt; it’s already survived what was thrown at it from chemo and/or radiation.

And when the time is right, it divides and conquers; stronger, more aggressive than ever, and driven to survive. So, Andy Whitfield died of his cancer, just 39 years old, in simply beautiful physical condition, and apparently good health. But that one cell had gotten away, and it did its job. (And remember, that’s just the theory of an oncologist non-related to Andy Whitfield’s actual case.)

On the one hand, I would love to hear the words that I am in remission, yet on the other, it’s somehow heartening to continue my treatments, knowing that I’m doing something active to defeat these little bastard cells. Because really, I would hate to give the Queen of Neuroses any ammunition whatsoever.

Oh, and Christopher Hitchens, rest in eternal peace.  You touched so many, in ways you can't even imagine.

Work Tomorrow!

Can I just say that I am actually a bit scared of going back to work?  It's been five months this time.  I don't even know if I'll remember how to do stuff!  Ok, that's the Queen of Neuroses coming out of the basement... hold on, let me lasso her and drag her back down there.

Ok, so... going back to work tomorrow.  It really should not be an ordeal.  I have to go in to Medical first thing, and present them with my oncologist's list of no-no's.  For instance, because we're a manufacturing site, one of the fields on the form is what you can do with your hands; vibration, grasping, repetitive movement.  He's said no to vibration and grasping because of the Hand-Foot syndrome from the Xeloda.  I told him repetitive movement could be interpreted as using the keyboard, which I do and have no problem doing, so that has no restrictions.

The interesting part is that most of the restrictions on the form are due to my lung disease, and not necessarily the cancer.  But the problem is that the cancer makes the lung disease more difficult to deal with.  Still, I haven't had a full-up PFT in years, so I'm not sure if the last few asthma exacerbations have given me a decline in lung function.  It's hard for me to remember that it's classified as COPD exacerbation, now. :)  Things like stairs, walking... very challenging combined with the COPD and the cancer's debilitating effects.  I get tired. ;)

I changed my phlebotomy appointment to 12:30 PM, so I can at least spend some time in the plant, trying to figure things out.  But truly, I'm very happy to be getting some productive normalcy back into my life.  If I can't do this, then I will have to accept that I need to go on disability, but I am fighting that every step of the way.

Must have everything prepared before I go to bed this evening; it will make the morning so much easier.  Clothes assembled, accessories figured out, grab a Glucerna to take for breakfast, get morning meds ready, and probably, I'll need a hat.  Nancy gave me a trim yesterday so that at least I will be presentable sans headwear... not looking so much like Alfalfa from Our Gang. ;)  Oh, better find my traveling coffee mug!

The Weather Channel says it will be 76 tomorrow, but the morning will be chilly, and the scooter trip from my parking space over to medical will be nippy, so a hat is probably a very good idea.

Well, that's it for this post.  Have a lovely Sunday, and make sure when someone does something you appreciate, you let them know how much.

Decadron Insomnia

I'm happily adding this post via my Motorola Xoom, which is the reason for reverting back to a regular Blogger template.  Plus, I missed my gadgets and widgets and the ability to go wild with colors. :)

So I saw Dr. Fastenberg today and he was concerned about the pain in my leg from the DVT.  He says that sometimes, in the presence of malignancies, blood clots require more than coumadin.  He gave me orders to have a D-dimer test done along with my normal CBC and platelets with differentials.  In the meantime he wants me to be hyper aware of my breathing, and to check my O2 saturation and my heart rates.  You just know that the Queen of Neuroses is chomping on the bit to be released from my non-existent basement!

I'll be seeing Dr. Ramaswamy, my primary care doctor, on Thursday, so I'll be sure to discuss the pain issue with him.  He knows that I don't do painkillers very well.  I think I may discuss other options with him.  Acupuncture is being used for cancer-related pain, and I believe my insurance would cover it.  And believe me, any fear I used to have when it comes to needles is long gone!

Now, I'll try to at least get some rest, as I know how the dreaded decadron insomnia will screw with me. :)

Love and hugs to all!

Cravings

There is danger in having access to just about everything on the face of the planet via the www.  Today I had cupcake cravings.  I don't eat cupcakes, yet I had to stop myself from buying, of all things, a Cupcake Maker.  Seriously, if you have an oven, you already HAVE a cupcake maker; you don't need some silly pink cupcake-shaped, teflon-coated, electricity-hogging waste of space!


But I wanted one.  Yet, I was strong and got past that moment of madness.  Makes me wonder if the Queen of Neuroses has a pal... the Duchess of Dim-wittedness.  Could happen.


Time now to inhale some albuterol.  I see we have an Ozone Health Watch for tomorrow, and we're back up to around 108.  Joy.  Maybe tomorrow I'll crave an Icee or something very cold.  Oooh, snowcones!


I remember last year at this time wishing for cooler weather, which meant that I was hoping time would fly by into Winter.  THIS year, I'm just taking it as it comes.  I'd love cooler weather, but I don't want to wish my life away, either.  Of course, last year at this time, I had no idea I had a freaking monster in my esophagus, either.  That wasn't discovered until the last week of September.


So, yes, it's almost a year that I have survived this cancer.  I think, all things considered, that I am holding up pretty well.  I'd just love to have my life back; you know, work, be as social as I ever was, which wasn't much, but it was better than this feeling of isolation from the rest of humanity.  But it's so hard to leave the house.  It's just tiring!  You know, you have to be presentable, and then there's usually lots of physicality involved, and I'm weak as if, donating blood I gave a gallon of blood instead of a pint. 


Oh sure, the weather is not helping, nor the air lack-of-quality.  But you know, if I had a cupcake, I probably wouldn't mind...STOP THAT!  No cupcakes!  I just had some garlic bread; the last thing I need is more carbs.  Or sugar.  Ummm, cupcakes.  I'm losing it.


But not really, because in ten minutes I'll crave something else like prunes or pistachios, or pumpkin pie, or pickles... and I HATE pickles.  I think I need a nap.


Be well, all, and be thankful for all the love you have in your life, but remember it takes LOVING to earn love in return.

Can *I* do Six Rounds?

This is getting harder with every round of chemo.  I want to be one of the 30ish % that can make it through six rounds of this, but I am finishing up round four and I am sick as the proverbial dog.


My legs are swelling up, my hands and feet feel creepy, and I can't begin to tell you how nauseated I am.  But, tomorrow is my last day of chemo week ON, and I hope I can begin to feel better.  


I slept a bit this afternoon; I'm so tired, and so weak.  I guess tomorrow I had better start hitting the Lasix so I can keep the edema at bay.  I keep remembering the last time I saw my oldest brother in the hospital, and his legs were HUGELY swollen.  And so were my mom's at the end.  In fact, she got water blisters all over her legs.  Her beautiful legs.  Ok, now I am starting to freak myself out, which means I should probably get to bed before the Queen of Neuroses gets out of bondage and runs rampant through my brain.


Good night, all.  Don't worry, I'll get past this, and I *WILL* do six rounds of this.  For I am, of course, strong like bull.

Vicodin, Praise the Gods

I SLEPT! From around 8:30PM to 3:30AM.  I SLEPT!


Because I have this weird fear of painkillers (Remember the Queen of Neuroses doesn't have to be logical), I had to force myself to take HALF a Vicodin before I tried to get to sleep.  After about a half an hour, when I didn't feel horrible, I took the second half, and that calmed the bone pain enough to get me to where I could fall asleep.  Sadly, it didn't get rid of it all.  And now what's with this weird twitching?  My legs now have a mind of their own, and start dancing around to their own beat, painful though it is.  I don't know if this is part of the Neulasta or something from the chemo.  I don't remember it from last time, but then again, last time wasn't this mega dose, either.

On to happier subjects:  We have about six serrano chilies ready to be harvested.  The squashes are just now budding, there is a second tomato on one of the other plants, and the spinach and collard greens are on steroids, apparently.  It's a good life, being a farmer. :D  Of course, you know I'm doing nothing towards the care of the 'farmland.'  That's been all Jane and Cathy.  I hope you can actually SEE the serrano in the picture above.


Anyway, today, I'm actually feeling a bit more human; haven't let out a single whimper. :)  Must go find some breakfast.  Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

Pain in the Neck

Actually, I have a literal pain in my neck.  It only hurts when I cough, or laugh, sometimes when I swallow, and occasionally when I breathe.  When you have cancer, you try hard not to leap to the conclusion that every pain you have is another tumor, or that the cancer has wandered.  I try to tell myself, 'Self, you just had a PET Scan.  If your cancer had spread anymore, the PET would have caught it!"  I'm so happy I have a logical mind.  Too bad I have to keep such a tight rein on the Queen of Neuroses.


Tomorrow is my pre-infusion lab work and then Thursday I will be seeing my Medical Oncologist, Dr. Fastenberg.  I'm sure he's thrilled we finally got that PET Scan done. :)  After I see him, it's off to get my Herceptin infusion.  I was wheezing like crazy today; had lots of breathing treatments.  It's the weather.  I'm allergic to just about every plant on the planet.  Yet, I love them all.  Oh well.  My worst allergic reaction is to Bermuda grass.  Guess what is the most widely-planted and grown grass in the Phoenix Metropolitan area?  But of course! :D


Oh, there are so many things sprouting in the 'farmland' now.  The spinach is up, as are the collard greens.  We've got one tomato coming.  And it's almost time to rig up the shade so my tomato plants don't fry.  It was a warm one today.  That sun of ours can really suck the life out of things.  Then, of course, the wind blows and it gets so dusty you can't see the Superstition Mountains.  But let me tell you, there is no place like this on earth, and though I may sound like I am not a fan of the desert, I adore it here.  We have skies that take your breath away.  (No, not the smog, or the dust!  The beauty!)


Anyway, the pain made me decide to telecommute today instead of going in to the plant.  In order to keep the pain at bay, I'm making old man sounds in my throat, because it hurts so damned much to do a really good COUGH!  And these sounds are annoying me, so I don't even want to expose my poor team mates to it.  Not to mention, it's tiring me out. 


Oh, and the dahlias and crocosmias are planted.  I can't wait until they bloom... I LOVE FLOWERS!!!! 


Well, love to all, and may you have good health and a long life!

Return of the Queen

As I was getting ready to go play a little World of Warcraft, I found myself musing about the Queen of Neuroses, who made a cameo appearance today at Ironwood.  And I have come to the conclusion that all of my terror "frames of reference" were instilled in me via my mom's health problems toward the end of her life.

To whit, CT's with contrast.  I have dreaded those words for YEARS, because my mom would weave horror stories around every kind of lab test, or scan, or ANYTHING, and I bought into it.  Now, I know it seems like a cop out that I'm blaming all this on my mom, but it's either her or the Catholic Church, and I don't recall any nuns moaning about CT scans.  With or without contrast.

So, I solemnly swear that I shall try hard to meet new experiences with a clean slate and make my own judgements about their terror-invoking proclivities, and I also do swear that I shall not cast my own neuroses to anyone else, as best I can.

I feel better now.

See, this blog really IS a great therapist!

Radioactive Chick!

I'm back from having my PET scan, and I must say it was another adventure in terror.  Ok, no, it wasn't bad at all.  The only terror experienced was all brought to you by the Queen of Neurosis who had apparently escaped from the basement.  She's back in there now, so everthing's fine.

Time for another of the dreaded IV's and this nurse went above the elbow, but she nailed it!  And so far, no marks to show for it.  Next came the radioactive glucose, which was a non-event.  It didn't burn, it didn't hurt, it didn't seem to do anything, although several people have mentioned my healthy ... cough... glow.

Sadly, you have to sit silently for an hour as you wait for said radioactive substance to wander about your body in search of cancer cells.  I hope their search was fruitless, and certainly not fructose.  In any event, I read a book waiting for them to come haul me kicking and screaming into the tube o' torture.

I was deeply disappointed.  The room was bright, and freakishly cheery with its wall of windows and natural light.  The technician tried to put somthing under my head to raise it a bit, because I have such a hard time breathing while laying on my back.  This scan takes 30 minutes... oh lordy.  However, I had used my secret weapon a half hour before being put in the machine:  XANAX!

The technician was kindness itself, trying to ensure I wasn't scared, and making me as comfortable as I could get under the circumstances.  So, back I lay (and if it should be lie, well, poo, but I can't be the perfect grammarian all the time) and the festivities began.

It's a quiet machine, the PET scanner.  I think even quieter than the CT.  And you don't spend the entire 30 minutes with your head in the tube, thank the dieties.  I closed my eyes and began counting, trying not to worry about the immiment arrival of the tube encasing my head.

I was good up until minute 22, when the muscles in my back began to spasm.  But I wasn't about to have to do this again, so I bit the bullet and kept counting because the tube was over my neck and I knew it was getting close to covering my head.

At last, it was over, and Jane, who had accompanied me for moral support, and I decided to stop by Ironwood Cancer and Research center to make an appointment with the oncologist since we were in the area.

Finally, we headed home, but made a stop at Crackers and Co., where I had half a bowl of utterly magnificent poblano corn chower.  It made me very happy.  I think there is going to come a time when I won't be able to eat for quite a while, so I am enjoying every tiny tittilation of my taste buds.

Got home to find the digestive disease doc had called to say that yes, it is definitely esophageal cancer, and he was impressed that I had gotten my PET so quickly.  Hey, MY  PC does not let grass grow under his feet! 

That's enough for today.  I am exhausted.  Hope I can sleep well tonight, and not be bothered by glowing in the dark. ;)

Xanax with a Scotch chaser....

Nah, not really.  I'd just do the Scotch solo. 

But, I did start that swallow awareness stuff at lunch time today, so I decided to call my doc and ask for some Xanax.  I had a 2007 prescription for it, quantity of thirty, of which twenty-seven are still in the bottle.  I would surmise that I'm probably not the type to get addicted to it.

Well, seems the PC (Primary Care) has decided he wants to see me tomorrow, so I'll take him my lovely tumor photos so I can ruin his lunch, too.  My appointment is at 1PM, so hopefully, he'll have the biopsy results back too.  Or... maybe he got them today, and that's why he wants to see me. :P

I got lots of hugs and love at work today, as a good 98% of our site already knows about my diagnosis.  I had called my boss on Friday to tell him of the excitement, and he told two friends, and THEY told two friends... you get my drift.

My dear friend, Linda, in HR said that happily, medical leave is a LOT more simple a transaction than it was in back in the day when I had Breast Cancer (BC).  So, at least that's one less thing about which to stress.

My co-worker, John, who I also think of as the younger brother I never had, and I were having a discussion of my exciting diagnosis, and we shared some jokes and I was feeling much more myself, i.e., able to cope and be the resident Finance comedian.  Of course, in the cube farm in which I work, if you blink, everyone in the aisle and then some can hear you.  So it was no surprise, really, when a lady from Procurement came by to tell me that I was an inspiration. 

HAH, I told her... you didn't see me on Saturday, when I was the queen of neurosis!  I've had time to digest this all, and put the ME back in the equation.  And I'm still the queen of neurosis, but she's currently tied up in the basement ... if I had a basement, that is.

It's just that one thing I learned from my last go-round with cancer is that it's so TIRING to be afraid all the time.  I'm much happier... being .. um... happy.  And I defintely still have the neuroses moments, but I'll have you know I played a good three hours of Dragon Age:  Origins tonight, and never gave my swallower one thought.

So, tomorrow it's off to the PC, and maybe I shall learn my cancer type, stage, etc.  Oh boy.  But, as with the BC, just give me a plan of attack, and I can cope.  It's the unknown that makes me nutso.  Oh, don't you love my acronyms?  Thirty-four years in aerospace... yeah, ... acronyms....