I was visiting with a friend of mine a couple of days ago and she asked me about my blog. She said she used to check it daily, but hadn't for a really long time. I must say, I haven't thought about it for a really long time, so I creep back here and peek back into a time that seems like a forever ago.
Me today, 1 year and some change after the whole life-changing diagnosis/surgery, how am I? Well, I am still getting an infusion of Avastin every three weeks and will until No(more)vember. And I must be honest, I actually feel like a very old woman. Joint pain...and I mean a LOT of it. It's mostly in my feet, thumb joints and my collar bones. Yeah...weird stuff. They tell me this will pass. I sure hope so. I was giving one of my kids the "thumbs up" as she did a new trick at her birthday/pool party on Sunday and I realized that my thumb couldn't or wouldn't point up to the sky. I have a 45 degree angle at best. And Lord help me, if I have to sit for any period of time and have to get up and go somewhere. I shuffle like Tim Conway. I look at this time as a glimpse into my future. I would guess this is where my aches and pains will settle themselves as I age. If they do go away this winter (yes, I am skeptical) I will greet my new vim and vigor with a greater appreciation. I took my energy and physicality for granted. I know that now. Now that it isn't there anymore. But it doesn't stop me. It can't. I'm a tough ole' broad.
I'm not sure how much I'll rattle around in this blog in the future, but as long as I do, I will always find the can in cancer.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Some final chemo thoughts. (Warning PG-13)
Okay, I'm sorry. I know we had a good thing going here. Great Chemistry. I dropped the ball. I've got a real problem with commitment. It's not you...it's me. My last blog was October 5th! There is no excuse. I should have called...
Actually, my chemo (that ended on December 2nd-2 days before the opening of the new cancer center) was very uneventful. I assume you all understood that no news is good news, but I left you hangin' and that wasn't nice. I got through the treatments with most of my hair and a couple extra chins. I am not sorry I am done with getting 3 litres of fluid dumped into my abdomen every 3 weeks but in a weird way, not going every week for the Taxol has been a bit of a transition. You see, the people at the U of I cancer center are really amazing people. I miss seeing them regularly.
My new routine is a continuation of a drug I started with chemo last August. Avastin is the name of the drug and it locates any cancer cells and cuts off the blood supply to them. The study I'm on is trying to get Avastin approved for the treatment of ovarian cancer. (It already has the stamp for colon and a couple of other cancers.) I go every 3 weeks for an infusion that is supposed to last 30 minutes, but I usually end up being there all morning. This I will do until August...a year in total. The only really unfortunate side-effect is joint pain. Yep, I now know what it feels like to be my 100 year old grandmother. And things are slow to heal, so for the last 6 weeks I have had a pain in my throat (not like a typical sore throat, but lower) and I will be getting that checked out next week for a possible ulcer. Nice, huh. I'll keep you posted...pinkie promise.
I leave you with an observation I've made about this whole experience...(James, "girlie parts" allert.) Male gynecological oncologists should be homely. I'll explain.
At the University of Iowa you have a doctor. With the hospital being a teaching one, they are assigned various levels of "help". My doctor has a few, what they call, Fellows that work with her. My favorite is Matt Carlson. He assisted on my surgery and lets face it, when someone has looked around your insides, it bonds you. Well, Matt ( While attractive, is more like my much younger brother...I digress) must have been in another surgery at the time of my appointment because they announce to me that another Fellow is going to see me that day. Okay, I kid you not, the door opens and in walks the most attractive person I've seen in in probably my entire life. (Sorry, Mark, but you were there, it's true.) To top that, his name is, Dr. Sean Michelle Stephan. Yes, he's french, complete with accent and everything. I actually think I heard violins, accordians and smelled a fresh baking baguette. Seriously. Well, we chat for a moment, and then it occurs to me what he is actually there for...a medical exam. I am not a person easily embarrassed, but atractive people should not be allowed to examine your Hoo Ha. I know I was the only one who was being anything other than professional, but no joke...awkward! That's when I closed my eyes, and immediately imagined I was cleaning the cat litter box until it was over.
Actually, my chemo (that ended on December 2nd-2 days before the opening of the new cancer center) was very uneventful. I assume you all understood that no news is good news, but I left you hangin' and that wasn't nice. I got through the treatments with most of my hair and a couple extra chins. I am not sorry I am done with getting 3 litres of fluid dumped into my abdomen every 3 weeks but in a weird way, not going every week for the Taxol has been a bit of a transition. You see, the people at the U of I cancer center are really amazing people. I miss seeing them regularly.
My new routine is a continuation of a drug I started with chemo last August. Avastin is the name of the drug and it locates any cancer cells and cuts off the blood supply to them. The study I'm on is trying to get Avastin approved for the treatment of ovarian cancer. (It already has the stamp for colon and a couple of other cancers.) I go every 3 weeks for an infusion that is supposed to last 30 minutes, but I usually end up being there all morning. This I will do until August...a year in total. The only really unfortunate side-effect is joint pain. Yep, I now know what it feels like to be my 100 year old grandmother. And things are slow to heal, so for the last 6 weeks I have had a pain in my throat (not like a typical sore throat, but lower) and I will be getting that checked out next week for a possible ulcer. Nice, huh. I'll keep you posted...pinkie promise.
I leave you with an observation I've made about this whole experience...(James, "girlie parts" allert.) Male gynecological oncologists should be homely. I'll explain.
At the University of Iowa you have a doctor. With the hospital being a teaching one, they are assigned various levels of "help". My doctor has a few, what they call, Fellows that work with her. My favorite is Matt Carlson. He assisted on my surgery and lets face it, when someone has looked around your insides, it bonds you. Well, Matt ( While attractive, is more like my much younger brother...I digress) must have been in another surgery at the time of my appointment because they announce to me that another Fellow is going to see me that day. Okay, I kid you not, the door opens and in walks the most attractive person I've seen in in probably my entire life. (Sorry, Mark, but you were there, it's true.) To top that, his name is, Dr. Sean Michelle Stephan. Yes, he's french, complete with accent and everything. I actually think I heard violins, accordians and smelled a fresh baking baguette. Seriously. Well, we chat for a moment, and then it occurs to me what he is actually there for...a medical exam. I am not a person easily embarrassed, but atractive people should not be allowed to examine your Hoo Ha. I know I was the only one who was being anything other than professional, but no joke...awkward! That's when I closed my eyes, and immediately imagined I was cleaning the cat litter box until it was over.
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