IT"S WORKING--HALLELUJAH!!

I'll jump right to the exciting conclusion . . . THE CHEMO IS WORKING!! 

I cannot begin to describe how elated and relieved I am--it is a state of being unlike any I have experienced before.  Thank you, universe. Thank you science. Thank you biopharmaceutical companies. Thank you Dr. S and team. Thank you to everyone who prayed and cared, and sent good karma muy way. Thank you to dentists BS& SD for first discovering something that turned out to be nothing but led to many tests and scans that caught my breast cancer recurrence in the earliest possible phase of stage 4, prior to any symptoms or further metastaseses.  ( I still need to write about the roller coaster ride and finding of this cancer.  soon, soon.) 

WHEW! I can breathe again.  (Feel free to stop reading now, or to go on, if you want more detail about the the catscan process, specific findings, next steps medically, and what I ate and drank today. )

The biggest decision of the day was whether to have the long-awaited pancakes before or after the scan.  Ph and I decided to save the pancake trip til after the scan--just in case . .  (I mean, what if the results were that a tumor the size and shape of a pancake is sitting in my stomach? I don't want anyone confusing pancakes with cancer. ) BTW, big brother (Bro) mentioned that he didn't really "get" the pancakes/scancakes thing . .  and was wondering if it was perhaps little sister's (me) cleverly disguised name for a new-fangled diagnostic.  Bro is one of the smartest people I know (I mean, the guy studies tax law and calculus just for fun), so perhaps I should clarify for other readers: the pancakes are just pancakes.  I have been craving them. Scan day seemed like the perfect day for a pancake outing--something to look forward to, while otherwise being quite anxious about (aka terrified by) the possible scan results.  

At 11 am, I drank a barium sulfate suspension, berry smoothie flavor, at home.  This was provided by Sibley hospital, and picked up last week by BFF D, as I was booked solid with doctors, dentists, visits to another hospital, and pedicures.  BFF D--you are the best! (How many friends are talented and generous enough to provide art for one's walls and one's blog, cook delicious salmon dinners, pick up barium drinks, and accompany one to blood-fusion?  Not many!) Sibley Hospital sent the 450 mL drink in a brown paper bag, including instructions and waiver of liability forms, and even a straw--which I thought was a nice touch.) Here's a pic:

Oh no! I just saw on the label that it said to "shake well prior to use", and I dont think I did!  Oh, well, I probably ran around my house enough for it to get shaken. Seriously, what does this delicious smoothie do?  It coats the lining of my esophagus, stomach, and related GI body parts, so they can be seen more clearly in the CT Scan.

At 1 pm, we arrived at Sibley Hospital, and they gave me another berry smoothie to drink.  How generous of them!  Then I went back for the scan.  CT Tech M told me to leave most of my clothes on . .  "just take off your bra", and "in the scan room you can pull your jeans down a bit".  (What? What kind of place is this?) It is a pretty quick procedure--takes only about 5 minutes of actual test time.  A petscan is much more involved--and provides more detailed information--but insurance providers these days much prefer the catscan, and make patients really work hard to justify a petscan.  If the results today had been inconclusive, I might have had a follow-up petscan.  BUT THEY'RE NOT--the results are EXCELLENT! 

Ph and I then headed to the nearest Pancake House, which had plenty of available tables at 2 pm. on a Tuesday. The nice waiter suggested the Strawberry Pancakes, as they come with fresh strawberries, whipped cream, and fresh strawberry syrup.  Yum. I checked the menu--in Montgomery County, MD, restaurants are required to post calorie content--and the Strawberry Pancakes have a whopping 1110 calories!  Could I actually order that? Yes, I could. Even the healthier sounding pancake options had 900+ calories, so why not? Well, here's the reason for that monstrous calorie content:

These pancakes could feed a family of four in the Congo (poorest country in the world, I googled) for a week. They were delicious, but I surrendered, leaving my plate half full. And yes, I got a to-go box, rather than being wasteful. 

From Pancake House, next stop: Dr. S.  We waited a long time to see him, but it was totally worth it.  He said "sorry to keep you waiting so long for your good news". WOW. A slice of heaven.  IT'S WORKING! The friggin chemo is working!! The CT scan showed that all 4 cancer "spots" are about 50% smaller than they were in November!  And, the CA 27-29 tumor marker also shows less cancer activity in my body.  YES! I can handle the fatigue; I can handle the bone pain; I can handle the tummy aches; I can handle it all if it is working.  Bring it on! I may surrender to a huge plate of pancakes, but I will not surrender to cancer or the drudgeries of treatment.

So, chemo cycle #4 begins on Thursday.  More of the same. I will have 3 cycles--hopefully ending in mid-April--and hopefully followed by a petscan. And then we'll see what the universe presents next.

Here's to making all of those nasty cancer spots--in me and too many others--smaller and smaller and smaller, until it all disappears.

CDiva

Maybe possibly hopefully . . halfway through?

I have completed three cycles of chemotherapy.  Each cycle (not to be confused by a "round", of course) consists of:

• day 1: a chemo cocktail mix of 2 drugs, some anti-nausea meds, a bit of steroids, all infused through my port
• days 2-3, energy boost from steroids (as one BFF says, "Sandi on steroids is like . . . Sandi on steroids . . eg, on both phones, sipping a latte, while asking the waiter a detailed question about the menu, sending an email, talking to BFF, and refreshing my lip gloss
• days 2-6, some tummy aches, ward off with various OTC and prescription meds; whine a little bit
• day 8: one of the two chemo drugs infused again, with the same chasers
• day 9: a follow-up shot, subQ, to boost white blood cell count
• days 12-15: jolts of bone pain from activity of boosting white blood cell production in my bone marrow; seek to manage with OTC and prescription meds; whine a lot.
• days 16-20: live normal life, nothing special to report usually
• day 21= day 1, and we start all over again . . .

So, of course, I am very anxious to continue this regimen!  No kidding--I really am.

February 19, just about a week from now, will be a big day.  I am scheduled for a catscan.  No petscan this time, as apparently insurance providers prefer the specific feline scan to the more open-ended possibility of various household animals. 

On this red letter day, I will drink a contrast agent in the morning (that by then I will have picked up from Sibley hospital. I dont know if they offer different flavors or not; have not seen a menu of any sort.)   I am also allowed to eat and drink regular people food that day--I am SO delighted when a test is not a fasting one.   Im craving pancakes already!  After the scan at Sibley Hospital, I will meet with Dr. S to find out the results.  I'm really really glad I will be able to meet with him and discuss the results immediately--otherwise, I have no idea how I would sleep that night. (or frankly, how I sleep at night now . .  oh, I know how--not very well!)

So, essentially in a week-ish, I will know whether/how well the chemo is working.  Signs of less cancer, smaller spots of cancer, cancer being driven kicking and screaming from my body will all be very welcome.  And would mean continuing the lovely regimen listed above, for another three cycles.   Signs of more cancer, no change in the level of cancer, or other such nastiness will likely lead to a Plan B.  And no, I dont mean the morning after pill.  I guess there's also a possibility that the tests will be somewhat inconclusive.  As we know, so much of life is not black and white, and many decisions must be made in shades of grey.

All crossing of fingers, praying for healing, sending of good karma is much appreciated.

Stay tuned. 

Chemo Cycle 2 & Realizing What's Important

I have completed 2 cycles of treatment since December 20: 4 chemo "sittings," 2 follow-up shots, numerous other visits with dentists, alternative healthcare providers, & non-oncologists.  No partridge in a pear tree.  Side effects have been relatively minimal & tolerable.  In cycle 1, I had a stomache ache for about 5 days--not debilitating, but annoying enough to keep me from wanting to work out or do very much at all.  Dr S thus prescribed "valium for the tummy." Yum.  This version of mother's little helper really worked for me.

In both cycles, I have had bone pain, a side effect of "the shot." The shot is a biotech drug that works to keep my white blood cell count up, as the chemo tries to pull it down.  It empowers my body to fend off infection. It works by activating cells in my bone marrow that produce those white blood cells.  In doing so, it can cause bone pain. I only experienced this once back in 2010, when I felt  a sense of little hammers beating away at my spine. I called Dr. S' office in distress, and they advised it was the expected bone pain.  (oh, sorry, I thought you meant achiness, not an all-out attack on my spine! ). It was managed just fine back then with OTC meds.  This time, the bone pain has not been just one battle, but a several day attack. As advised by the nurses, since I'm a second-timer, my white blood cell count was less hearty to begin with; so the shot is powering into my spine, ribs, breastbone, jaw.  One day it felt almost like labor pains, 10 minutes apart, 5 minutes apart . . . I eventually got something better for the pain, which I only needed to use once, as the bone jolts have subsided for now.

Other than that, it's been largely positive.  I've kept my hair thus far (more on that in another post); feel pretty good; am told I look good (and not just, "you look good for a cancer patient"). :). I was feeling strong and accomplished, and yes, I managed chemo on the same day I met with foreign government officials, including a delicious dinner & fabulous wine at Bourbon Steak in the Four Seasons Hotel in DC.  If you want to blow big bucks on an amazing dinner, go there! 5 stars!  So despite (or in between) the side effect annoyances, I have been quite happy, even euphoric at times.

Until this week.  I was swamped at work, and my schedule did not give me the opportunity to work from home (which I'm trying to do one day a week, to take the edge off). I had almost nonstop meetings;  have several business trips coming up to prepare for; and worked well into the evening 3 days in a row. On the second day, I put my head down on my desk during a conference call that led to a handful of new tasks. An hour later, I burst into tears reading the blog of  the sister of a neighborhood friend--the blogger is also a triple negative breast cancer patient It's fairly rare, and I don't know anyone else . . )  and she wrote poignantly about their mother's funeral.  It brought to light what is really important in life--I love what I do professionally, but when it comes down to it--what really matters? Memos and legislative strategies and legal analysis? Or sisters and mothers and relatives with illnesses, and loved ones coming together to celebrate the good times, and hold each other up in the tough times?

This is a question for which I think we all know the answer.

First chemo treatment . . since 2010

I started chemo today, for the second time in my life.  In 2010, I had surgery (lumpectomy and node-ectomy); followed by adjuvant chemotherapy (meaning there was no known cancer in my body following surgery--the chemo was intended to swoop in and kill off any stray cancer cells); topped off by radiation.  It was a triple header, intended to blast out all cancer activity, and make it run for the hills.  (No offense in tended to anyone who may live in the hills.)  There is a "triple" theme here, as the kind of breast cancer I have is called triple negative--meaning it it tests negatively for estrogen receptors, progersterone receptors, and Her2/Neu.  If youre going to have breast cancer, this would not be the one to choose, as there are fewer targeted treatments, among other unpleasant characteristics. 

Just a few weeks ago, through an incidental diagnosis (meaning, there were no signs/symptoms of cancer, & we werent looking for any, at least that day . . )--we learned that I in fact am not/was not cancer-free, so I am starting chemo again.

It is different than last time—different drugs, different regimen.  I’m still getting my sea legs in terms of managing the side effects. And I’m no longer a cancer virgin or, as the oncology nurse described it—I’m no longer "chemo-naive."  (that's for friggin' sure!) So while some aspects are new--I have a port this time, which should make the whole process more efficient, some of it is "old hat" (no pun intended!).  The whole process of having large amounts of liquid infused into my veins for a few hours is not, in and of itself, very scary by now.  But, of course, not being chemo-naive means I'm also not blind to the fact that devoting my time, energy, committment, etc. (plus that of the medical staff) does not alway guarantee a successful result. 

Stay tuned for more exciting news, including: hair loss or no hair loss? Can cancer diva have chemo treatment and dinner with the foreign health officials in the same day? Will this treatment work??

There are many, many questions to be asked and answered.

Yours in seeking to be cancer-free . . .

Sandi