My kind of Tumour

I'm going to post what I know about my tumour here and the reality as I know it of my situation. This will not be an easy read so skip it or don't say I didn't warn you.

My tumour is staged as follows: T2 N1 M0. It was a stage IIB growth when it was removed. I had this weird looking bunch of letters/numbers written down for me on a post it by the surgeon who did my operation on the date that I went in to have my drains and clips removed back in August. It has done nothing more than collect dust in the folder labeled "Cancer Medical Info" in my filing cabinet. It took until now for me to look that up and find out more. I didn't want to, and I'm still not sure if doing that was the right thing for me to do, but one day, sitting at home by myself, I withdrew that post it and my laptop and went to work. Before I paste what I found here, these stats really mean nothing. I will tell you what I've found as far as survival rate, but it doesn't mean anything either. I've lived my life with the thinking that if even 1% of anything is possible, then I feel that I can be that 1%. That is applied to the way I work and function so I'll try and maintain that when thinking about my own life, as hard as that will prove to be.

To define my T2 N1 M0 tumour, this is what is written:

T stands for tumor (its size and how far it has spread within the breast and to nearby organs).
N stands for spread to lymph nodes (bean-shaped collections of immune system cells that help fight infections and cancers).
M is for metastasis (spread to distant organs).

Additional letters or numbers appear after T, N, and M to provide more details about the tumor, lymph nodes, and metastasis:
The letter T followed by a number from 0 to 4 describes the tumor's size and spread to the skin or to the chest wall under the breast. Higher T numbers indicate a larger tumor and/or wider spread to tissues near the breast.
The letter N followed by a number from 0 to 3 indicates whether the cancer has spread to lymph nodes near the breast and, if so, how many lymph nodes are affected.
The letter M followed by a 0 or 1 indicates whether the cancer has spread to distant organs -- for example, the lungs or bones.

So, my tumour being 4cm big is a pretty large tumour and is classed as a 2 out of 4. It spread to 2/21 nodes and it hasn't spread to distant regions as far as the technology available tells them.

Once the T, N, and M categories have been determined, this information is combined in a process called stage grouping. Cancers with similar stages tend to have a similar outlook and are often treated in a similar way. Stage is expressed in Roman numerals from stage I (the least advanced stage) to stage IV (the most advanced stage). Non-invasive cancer is listed as stage 0. I'm stage IIb which isn't as good as IIa, but then again, not as bad as III or IV.

This IIb stage is described the following way:

The tumor is larger than 2 cm and less than 5 cm across. It has spread to 1 to 3 axillary lymph nodes and/or tiny amounts of cancer are found in internal mammary lymph nodes on sentinel lymph node biopsy. The cancer hasn't spread to distant sites.

The numbers below come from the American College of Surgeons National Cancer Data Base, based on women who were diagnosed with breast cancer between 1995 and 1998. There are some important points to note about these numbers:
The 5-year survival rate refers to the percentage of patients who live at least 5 years after being diagnosed. Many of these patients live much longer than 5 years after diagnosis. Five-year relative survival rates (such as the numbers below) don't include patients who die from other causes. They are considered to be a more accurate way to describe the outlook for patients with a particular type and stage of cancer.
These numbers were derived from patients treated several years ago. While they are among the most current numbers we have available, improvements in treatment since then mean that the survival rates for people now being diagnosed with these cancers are likely to be higher.
While survival statistics can sometimes be useful as a general guide, they may not accurately represent any one person's prognosis. A number of other factors, including other tumor characteristics and a person's age and general health, can also affect outlook.

5-year Relative Survival Rate
0=100%
I=100%
IIA=92%
IIB=81%
IIIA=67%
IIIB=54%
IV=20%

From this, you can see that I'm in the 81% category. I have no idea how this number is influenced by my age (I have a more aggressive form of cancer as do most young people diagnosed) my health, my mental state, my type of treatment etc., but I know that this is information that some want but won't ask so there it is. How do I feel about this? Depends on the day you ask me...

Support?! What support?!

So, I’m back home now, just had my 2nd treatment. 5:13pm, so far so good. Appointment was at 10:30am, I got in about 12:30pm and went till about 3, all said and done. Oh, I gotta remember to write this down: so it’s just not meant to be, me and this ‘look good, feel better’ stuff. It’s official, the whole process of investigating this workshop is now doing me harm emotionally, so I’m not gonna participate in it at this point in time. I have tried time and again to get information on this elusive program, but I’m pretty sure that because they’re renovating, they’ve either laid off all people who have anything to do with it or they’re all on vacation. There’s a trailer out back of the hospital that temporarily houses the wig shop and where apparently you get information on the LGFB program. Well, I went there once, they were working with a client and I guess because they’re in just one room of the trailer, they couldn’t really help. In an office of course, one of the employees could just go outside of the room with the patient and speak with them, anyway, I didn’t speak with anyone.

I asked the survivorship centre/breast clinic support people previously and they had more than once directed me to the newly renovated wig boutique and where they do the workshops permanently I guess. This actually was just featured on breakfast television last week and the joke is, it’s still not ready, which wasn’t announced. I was like, finally! I’ll get some information. Let it be said that I do want info on breast cancer, but I would like to see something pertaining to my age group, and that info isn’t at the ready shall we say. But the other day, to my disbelief/ pleasure/embarrassment/horror, a volunteer followed me out of the clinic and really shook me emotionally (see previous post about this). I was kinda in a rush to get outta the hospital and into my car so I could just have a good cry.

Back to today, and my ‘ordeal’ at the hospital. I went to my chemo appt with my mum, and afterwards I decided to go up to the breast clinic to inquire about the workshop that the volunteer from the other day told me about. Okay, so here it is. I have yet to reach out and do anything as far as support. My one experience of visiting a website geared towards young women facing cancer had me in disbelief and tears and didn't help at all truthfully, so I haven’t spoken to one other person with cancer about what I’m going through. Hence the blog. I know I should, but I don’t know how to do that, and I don’t know why I find it so hard to just ask for help. There's the one thing cancer hasn’t changed about me! I’m worried about how I’ll handle that emotionally and with so much going on internally, I simply haven’t reached out. I have tried though, but for some reason, any time I go to the “survivorship centre” there’s been no one available to speak with, or they’re not sure how to help me, other than hand me pamphlets. I’ve been sent up to the wig salon so many times after I’ve asked a question it’s crazy, especially as there is never anyone in it and the doors are locked! It’s still not ready even though they did the launch on BT and they’re still housed in a trailer out back. All I want at this point is to ask about more information on the Young Women’s Conference, but I have just gone through a chemo treatment and don’t really want to hang out and wait for someone who knows more than the volunteer I’m talking with to walk in. The woman decided that the wig shop would be better equipped to answer my questions (shocking), so she dials the wig shop, passes me the phone as its ringing, and here is what transpires. A lady picks up and when I asked about the young women conference she stated exasperatingly “Why would we know about that, we’re a wig shop???” Even though it was the volunteer at the support place that passed me the phone after dialling, that was her response. Again, totally exasperated with me, “We just host those (LGFB) meetings here, they’re held here, but don’t have information on them." Such a bitch. On any other day, I don't know what I would have done, surely at the very least a confrontation would've ensued which would have at the very least been emotionally cleansing for me, it usually is after I've given someone I feel deserves it a piece of my mind, but sadly not today. What a way to speak with someone! She must have thought I was a volunteer or staff member asking this, maybe the phone has a different ring when it's an internal call, I don't care what the reason is, someone working in a wig shop at a hospital should NOT talk to anyone like that, so exasperated to offer even a moment's assistance! She should do something like factory work where you don't deal with others ever! I pretty much just hung up the phone. I had to leave, I was going to cry. When I hung up the volunteer could tell I was upset poor woman, and wanted to talk and find out what happened and I said loudly "she asked me why they would know anything about that" but this was shouted over my shoulder as I was walking out and my voice was cracking so I couldn't answer the questions she was giving me, I only looked at my mum, who immediately knew I had to go and made my excuses for me. Again, hardly made it to the car before crying, but I’m good. I’m not doing that program though. I don't know who it was that spoke to me like that, so I can't go there and get my eyebrows done by someone there, I'll think it's her or I won't know if it is, and that'll bother me. I just finished chemo, literally, then walked up to hear this! Not that what she said was that bad to an outsider, but again, all relative. I don't ask for personal assistance typically, regardless of how foolish that truly is. I only even asked in the first place today as I thought it was a sign that this nice beautiful person from Monday hunted me down to speak with me so I must be supposed to inquire. And this is what I go through. So, now, it’s official, It just wasn’t to be. I’m not meant to reach out and get support, I'll create my own therapy -hence the blog- and when the times right, I think it’ll just figure itself out. Oh, and for all you ‘posters’ that are going to tell me how great the LGFB program truly, is, I’ve heard that, thank you, but this is my mentality right now, so please forgive me for my feelings, I’m not slamming the program, just the timing of it and what I’m going through emotionally it isn’t right for me. Forgive me my arrogance.

She WAITED for me to finish my appt just to offer information cuz I'm a young girl

It was right after my visit with Dr. T (see last post, where I was sitting waiting to see him again, and now this is what happened after I went in and talked about my pathology report) I was biting down on the inside of my lip for a while yet again as I'm now back in the waiting room for the third time in the span of one appointment at the front waiting on the extremely busy receptionist to schedule my next grouping of appointments, I want to l-e-a-v-e and I was pretty worried about drawing blood because I'm totally abusing the inside of my mouth, and mouth sores are typical with my treatment, but I was doing it anyway. I had a bad experience with the doctor. Not sure why I’m not getting to the point, I just smoked a bit so that may explain it, but the doctor told me the pathology did come back on my tumour and it was negative for whatever hormone they wanted it to have, which isn’t actually a good thing, despite how it sounds. It means that the other treatment option they had that they were gonna give me after radiation I’m not eligible for because a specific hormone needs to be present in my cancerous tumour. It's good I guess that I'm not getting hormone treatment pumped into me, or that sounds like a good thing to me, but that treatment does bring the percentage of recurrence down a bit if eligible for this, which I'm not. I'll do chemo, then radiation and then they monitor me for the rest of my life. I had the following dreaded thought inside his examination room while I was sitting by myself kicking my dangling feet on the table: I’m going to most likely die of this one day and I'm most likely going to battle this again and again until I do. My feet stop swinging at this horrific -but still true- revelation. Have I before now even allowed myself this thought? I don't know. Why I decided to verbally enquire into this line of thinking at that moment with the doctor while such negative thoughts were swirling is a mystery to me. I can't be on and up all the time and I'd be lying and doing no justice to myself or anyone else reading this to state otherwise. The mind does go to crazy places at inopportune times, doesn't it? I got upset because when he returned to the exam room, I asked him a question about the recurrence of cancer in someone my age with my type of tumour and I didn't like the answer, obviously. But you do have to ask. He's a doctor and he has to be honest and up front with me and I shouldn't have asked until I was in the right state of mind to deal with his answers but now I'm upset and want to go absorb and feel sorry for myself and blubber incoherently to no one cuz it's therapeutic to do so. What he said to me is kinda a big deal, and I don’t know what I feel. Right now as I'm writing about the past experience, I'm feeling definitely strong and I’d even say positive, it is an act? Can I really be this realistic and inspired even? I mean, I still obsess about my weight and hair and frivolous stupid things, I still get aggravated with my family and friends, I still laugh at self-deprecating humour, my favourite all time movie is now Superbad and I watched that after my diagnosis, none of that's changed, I'm still living and laughing, I still love hearing stupid gossip and still watch ET, so I’m normal that way, but don’t I now feel different because of this whole experience and different in a good way? Scratch that; I am different because of this whole experience. Anyway, that day in the office, I got upset, but I was able to bite my lip and almost get through it. Then the nurse comes in to the exam room as I'm practicing breathing deep breaths and fluttering my eyes towards the ceiling to keep the water in, and hands me my prescription, but she forgets one of the meds and has to go get it, I’m still managing the 'holding it together' part and then she comes back in and sees that I’m about to crack, and says 3 dreaded empathetic soft spoken words with the hand on my shoulder… “Are you okay?” I mean come on! So a whimper seeped out but I managed to catch it and chuck it back down. "Fine." Jump off the table. Look at my face and know I don't want another word spoken. One more step and home free. The nurses station to get my appointments booked and printed, then mercifully to my car to cry and release. This unrelentingly takes another 30 minutes and it’s so not their fault, the poor staff is worked so hard and they manage to appear so happy and are so efficient! For the most part Princess Margaret staff are absolutely amazing (refer to future post regarding why there's a 'for the most part'). I now have appt slip in hand, have kept it together, and am striding (running) out the clinic, gaze of stone on my face. As I’m heading towards the stairs, a lady-with-a-clipboard had just marched out the other exit of the clinic looking around but sees me and is walking purposefully towards me staring right at me, coming right at me, no way around her. Friends, here's a belly laugh for you guys and you are about to be nodding your head in firm emphatic agreement, so let's word in this way. I have a look about me. I don't carry a look on my face that says "approach me, I'm friendly." This isn't by mistake, it's by design. It has been crafted and perfected my whole life. (You can read more about my views on this look in the post titled 'For the amusement of my friends, me trying to rationalize my look') On this day at this time especially, I can only imagine the look on my face at this exact point in time and friends, I know that you're picturing it too!
But, fearlessly, this lady-with-the-clipboard stops me right there and starts with “Excuse me, I’ve been waiting for you, I hope you don’t mind, I can see you’re in a hurry but if you just have a sec” I nod to confirm definitively that I am obviously in a hurry (I'm practically jogging) at the same time she’s saying ‘have a sec’ but I do stop. I am so touched by this compassion that I’m being shown, but I’m also really not good under those circumstances, I almost get emotional right there and I’m soooo not a good crier and right at this very moment I'm a ticking time bomb of pent up anger/emotion/feelings and cannot have this explosive release of any of it happen to me when I'm by myself like that in the middle of the busy hospital. Through sheer will I'm still able to hold it together today. Some people get through conversations so well crying, like Amber from Big Brother 8, but I’m just not one. Don’t wanna talk when I’m crying or about to, just wanna g-o. She tells me about this conference coming up at the beginning of November for young women with breast cancer and here’s some info on this (hands me some pamphlets) as young women have felt it difficult to get targeted info on breast cancer for their age group so what she was saying was just so perfect and exactly what I've been feeling and experiencing and truly, I wanted to hear every word, but I really, unfortunately, had to run right then. It's too bad in hindsight that I couldn't stop to talk with her (I do mean couldn't, not didn't) as she had been literally waiting for me to finish my appt so she could speak with me (so so sooo touching!) She asked when I’d be back, I told her Wednesday, just 2 days from now, so she gave me stuff to read, and then I was off like lightning. Sunglasses on and I think I leaked a bit before I got to my car, but just a small crack, not a dam of tears. I almost lost it completely, but managed my way through it and then it’s over, I have my moment with myself and I’m good again.

My Body is Still Fighting for me even though I don't fight for it...

Here I sit, in the waiting room at Princess Margaret waiting to see Dr. T, my really nice new cancer doctor. It’s pretty crazy that I’ve already gone through a cycle! In 2 days, I’ll have my 2nd chemo administration, which means as of Thursday, I’ll be a third of the way through my whole chemo treatment! (Okay, not really as that would technically be the end of the 2nd treatment, but that's semantics.) A few days ago, I noticed that my hair is now starting to fall out. This upset me a great deal. It was Saturday morning when I started to freak out about that a little. I mean, it’s one thing to know it’s gonna happen, I even shaved my head in anticipation, but actually seeing it falling out is a whole other emotion. Compound that with my ridiculously expanding waistline, I feel really unattractive. That’s hard to deal with when you have a boyfriend who you are immensely attracted to. I know he loves me for who I am, etc (insert whatever you're supposed to say here) but I also know what I look like right now, and that has to be tough on him as well as well as other emotions he's feeling. He's human. I can’t just blame the steroids or the chemo; this is happening because I’m not staying active and I’m overeating. And it's not on whole wheat pasta at dinner, it’s late night junk food like chips, chocolate, candy, etc. I know what to do about it, I’m just not doing it. Same way I knew what to do before cancer and still did nothing.
I am dealing with having cancer relatively well I think, right now at least, so the obvious conclusion is that I’m substituting the emotions of dealing with cancer through emotional eating. I’m not crying excessively or too moody I don't think, I just eat away the pain, which of course doesn’t work as all it’s doing is depressing me that I’m gaining so much weight. I’m guessing that over the summer, I’ve went up 20 lbs. Let’s remember that it was right before I got together with Shawn that I was at my skinniest. SO not only did I gain an extra 20 lbs in the past 2 years, but I’ve just gained another 20ish this summer AND I’m bald! It’s takes a pretty amazing person to love me so unconditionally so Shawn, thanks for making my life with you such a breeze and just know that I hope that on the day I’m tested like you have been, I’ll handle it even half as gracefully as you have. Anyway, the idea is -and if I write this is has to happen in theory- that in a few years, we'll probably get married and I'll worry about all the effects and moving forward after cancer and chemo and radiation and reconstruction and who knows what else when I'm in that phase, which I'm not right now. I have to try and remember that more and give myself a break. I'll work on being a healthy fit active person in time for my wedding so I can walk down the beach feeling really good about myself. That's the goal and I'm writing it so I have to see that through when the time comes. I may decide today to start, but probably not in all reality. Okay, totally sidetracked!

I now sit in the waiting room for Dr. T. The 3 things I gotta remember to ask about are: getting pot prescribed, radiation, just why does everyone tell me to reconsider this form of treatment and if I do get it, can I go to Oshawa instead of here? And can he recommend me for a naturopath or do I just find one on my own? Oh yeah and the pathology of my tumour should be back by now, am I getting hormone therapy after radiation as well?
Okay, so just saw Dr. T, I can’t get pot prescribed (boo!) but he said that if it helps...
He doesn’t 'recommend' naturopathy either (not to say he doesn't see the obvious benefits); he said to just take a vitamin D supplement, exercise and watch what you eat. Pretty much common sense I guess so why pay the money for someone else to tell me the same thing? I’ve got to call Dr. M, the radiologist to ask about going to Oshawa instead of here. As for the pathology report, I’m now back in the waiting room while they call Sunnybrook (that's where I guess the pathology is conducted) to see if the results from that are in yet. Not too bad today though, it’s only 2:30pm and my appointment was at 1:30pm so it’s not as bad as it’s been in the past, that’s for sure. The nurses here are superb, they work tirelessly and efficiently and it’s gotta be a thankless job, but they truck on, they smile and they are polite amongst the chaos, I give them a lot of credit, let’s hear it for the nurses and volunteers!
How have I been feeling? Well, since the restlessness, I’ve been fine! I didn’t go through that dip in cells that make you excessively tired, I didn’t feel that at all, although I waited for that, but now that I’m at the end of this cycle, I can now say that it skipped by me. Will I be this lucky in the future? Who knows, I don't think so, but it feels pretty darn good right now. When I came in to the breast clinic, it was all but empty with 5 of us waiting. Now, there is closer to 40 people here, not one seat is currently available, just crazy. I like coming here without my wig, it makes me feel empowered and here I don’t worry about people staring at me. I did go to Costco yesterday with my mum and I wore only a bandanna which was a big step for me I think. Especially because I look ridiculous in a bandanna, just ridiculous. I have been going to the dog park with just a hat, but that’s different than Costco as you don’t know you’ll see even another person at the dog park but it’s a little different at Costco! My attitude has changed about that. Before I was worried about people staring at me and if I could handle it. I really gotta give myself more credit as I don’t really care who stares at me. Before I was staring at people to see if they were staring at me. Kinda counter-productive as it’s possible they were just staring back at me. Now, because I’m not looking for it I don’t notice it so I’ve realized that my actions and emotions shouldn’t be affected by how others react, I really need to learn to look no further than myself to find the strength and character that I possess. Others are not going to give that to me, but I already knew that, didn’t I? Do I actually act that way and live my life that way or is that just something I’m saying now because I’m writing? I’m not sure… How do you ever tell?

Take that stupid Chemo!

So, I’ve had a great week. I was fully expecting to feel like crap and be tired etc because of a low blood count, but I haven’t had anything to complain about, I’ve felt fine, truly. I was watching Breakfast Television this morning and they were unveiling the new Look Good Feel Better facilities at PMH so I am glad I waited to go as it’s so nice now! LGFB is a program designed for cancer patients that help with the physical aspects of chemo ie makeup tips and wig styling and selection. I think I’m gonna try and make an appointment there for maybe this week and if not, then I’ll go in a few weeks once I’ve actually lost my hair because if my eyebrows/eyelashes are about to fall out, I'd like help with how to mask that. Right now though, I have a small afro going on as my hair's still growing. I'll be shaving it again soon I think. I talked to one of my friends this morning and I do love her, but she seems to be the one who’s been making the most annoying comments out of my friends and I’m not sure if they're really annoying comments or its her delivery, but either way. And friends, don't ask who I'm referring to. All I'll say is, don't worry, it's not you I'm talking about.
This morning it was the way she was saying that I'd be so pissed to find out I shaved my head for nothing, ha ha ha! No, I won’t. I won’t change anything about what I’m going through and I will lose my hair, so I don’t have the thought of being 'pissed' about it, I’m happy to have the hair that I have for as long as possible before it falls out.

I changed my profile on facebook to reflect what I’m going through (included below). That was a big step for me as it’s one thing to be honest with my very close friends, but now anyone that has access to my profile can now read about it, which is over 200 people. I felt it was important to do that for 2 reasons. 1st, to be honest about this disease and make people aware that it can happen to someone you know and someone so young, so be aware. The 2nd reason is because I’ve been walking around without my wig lately and I have so far seen 2 people that I know, one of which I’m pretty sure recognized me. So selfishly, I figure if someone sees me walking around with my head shaved, they may go to my profile to see if there’s any clues about me becoming a lesbian, and they’ll see I haven’t converted, I’m simply going through chemo. Is that vain, yes, but it’ll give me confidence to walk around and if I see someone that knows me, I’ll assume that they’ll find out why I’ve done this indirectly instead of me explaining it. We’ll see. I’m going to my parents house now as I want to watch the last season of the Sopranos AND I feel like McDonald’s breakfast and only have half an hour to go and get it!
Oh yah, my facebook post as follows:

About me:
I am a 29 yr old who this summer was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer. I had surgery and am now going through chemotherapy. After this I will be going through radiation. I have been told that I will lose my hair so right before my 1st treatment, my boyfriend shaved it off for me. It doesn't even look that bad, way more Demi than Britney! If you see me around, I sometimes wear my wig and sometimes I feel good enough not to, so if you see me, no I haven't switched sides! ;pThat was important for me to do as it's tough to hear your appearance will change like that and there's nothing you can do to change it BUT you can decide how it happens. I wasn't about to watch my hair fall out so I did it on my terms. I have decided to post this publicly as I feel its important to let others know that although it's rare that this would happen to someone so young, it wasn't caught early -I've had it for years- and I want to make others aware that this CAN happen and a mammogram check up is not just for old women, all females should get checked yearly and I feel it's now my responsibility to say that as much as possible. Feel free to message me any questions as I'm being very open about this and anyone close to me already knows all about this and that I'm doing great and staying strong and of course gonna kick cancers ass! :)

Chemo's reign of Terror cont'd...

I’m feeling better and have been for the past 2 days. I’m still awaiting the tiredness that will inevitably consume me over the next week, but right now I’m in very good spirits. I had a good day on Sunday at my parent’s, but first I’ll tell you about Saturday. All day I was taking pills for nausea and had been pill-popping since my previous bout of nausea. By Saturday night I was so groggy and out of sorts, and I was also getting frantic about my illness and how bored and restless I was gonna be etc. I decided that on top of the 2 separate prescribed anti-nausea pills I was currently taking as well as the steroids that I was still on after my treatment, I’d top it off with an Oxy-Contin. I was prescribed those for the pain after my mastectomy and still had a few pills. The feeling I remember was that once I took a pill, I felt like I had something to look forward to, if that makes sense. I describe the Oxy high as being a kid and your parents told you they were taking you and your friends to Wonderland on Friday, but today is only Tuesday. So every time you thought of going to Wonderland on Friday, you’d get this feeling inside that something really fun was about to happen. That’s how I felt on Oxy. It only made sense to me, that, at this point where I feel like I have nothing to look forward to and I’m suffering anxiety from being so bored but restless and sore, what better way to curb this than by taking a pill that makes me feel excited? It couldn’t hurt, right? I mean, I’m already on every drug imaginable so why not add the equivalent of oral heroin to the mix? Yah, not the best idea I’m sure you’re shocked to hear. I wasn't in my right mind before I took the Oxy (obviously!) so I consider it an accidental overdose. When I told Shawn I had taken one, he was pissed. I knew he would be and I only told him I took it because I got poppers-remorse right after I took it and wanted him to know I had done it. He said I should purge it but then changed his mind about that. We’d just see what happened. I don’t want to make this a bigger story than it needs to be so I’ll just say that I was fubar. I was so groggy and disoriented and couldn’t hold a thought or my head up for that matter. I was so restless but had no energy to do anything. I was grumpy and mopey. Shawn said he was taking me for a drive, which totally helped as it killed some time, but at 7pm driving around neighbourhoods looking at houses, my head kept bobbing and all the lights were blurry and trippy. I decided during that drive that the way of the pill wasn’t for me. This was a good revelation and I was happy about this decision. Of course, I still had to get through the current high, which brings us to that evening.

Gross topic coming up, skip paragraph if you're queasy or offended by poop talk.

The nurse warned me that I may be constipated after treatment and if that persists beyond 3 days, either take a suppository or pill and if it doesn’t work call the doctor. Because of my nausea I really wasn’t paying attention to my bathroom activity, but by Saturday I realized I hadn’t gone since before treatment on Wednesday. Oops. Now my stomach was hard and I was cramping. I haven’t ever really dealt with constipation so I wasn’t all that concerned about it, I went to the pharmacy and bought ex-lax, it would take 6-12 hours to work, fine. Ah, no, not so fine. By Saturday night I was hunched over and running to the bathroom every 10 minutes with severe cramps but no action. By midnight, I thought maybe I wanted to go to the hospital it was so bad and they could just take siphon it outta me with a hose, but instead I opted for 2 more ex-lax, even though I was really afraid to take more as the first set hadn’t worked, what’s gonna happen with 2 more? At long last, relief came at about 3:30am and after a whoop of joy, I went back to bed. Of course I woke up every hour from then till morning going to the bathroom, but that was lengths better than waking up every hour and not going to the bathroom; another disaster conquered and victory prevailed.

By Sunday morning though, I was feeling pretty cracked out from lack of sleep. Shawn’s mom came over first thing in the morning to see us as I hadn’t seen her since treatment; I just wasn’t up to it. She left, with the promise of baking some more of those peanut butter chocolate granola cookie goodness things, and she was also gonna make us a roast to have during the week for dinner. Awwwesome!
Shawn went to National to see about some golf shoes and my parents ended up popping by about 20 minutes later after watching a 9am showing downtown of a David Cronenburg flick during Toronto Film Festival. I decided to go with them to their house with Milo (my adorable weimaraner-lab puppy) as Shawn was going golfing later and was going to drive me there for the day anyway and it saved him the trip. I was feeling better and felt like hangin' with the fam. I was pretty drained for most of the day, but was entertained by my parent's and Craig, and we played a few games of poker around the table while the dogs batted heads out back. It was a good day. I have decided that I'm not taking anymore anti-nausea pills. They don't work and make me feel bad and stupid, so I'm sticking to the herbal medicine for that as well as for my spirits!

Chemo is not my friend

So Chemo is kinda kickin' my ass. I’m not gonna lie, it’s pretty hard. This morning I was sitting in front of the toilet, dry-heaving, no more puking, but just thinking, this is tough. And ya know what, it’s supposed to be. And I will get through this and I will survive. This journey is not going to be a breeze, it's not supposed to be, it’s supposed to make me feel alive and when I come out of this stronger than ever, I’ll remember that I would do it all again in order to just survive. I started crying as I was hunched down next to the toilet bowl because I thought about that chemo bell at Princess Margaret that the girl rang in the clinic. There's a big bell on the inside of the door when you exit the clinic to the waiting room, and it startled me when she rang it but even more so when the entire room of about 40 nurses, volunteers and patients started clapping. My nurse explained to me that you ring it on the way out after your last treatment. Is that not just beautiful that they have that? I tell ya what, I will ring that bell louder than it has ever been wrung before, I will scream with pride and happiness that I am done, and will show everyone else waiting for their treatment that they too will have that moment as that's what I thought the first time I heard it. I have that goal in my head and even though that finish line is way out in the distance, I can still see it. I’ve started the race which means I’m on the journey now and I will continue to be strong of mind and soul. It won't be easy on me, I can see that this is going to be tough, but so will I and I will reign supreme over this illness, mark my words.

Just what is Chemo?

I get this one a lot, so here it is, this is chemo. Of course, there are many ways to receive chemo, some take it orally but mine is intravenously. There are different schedules and time lines for everyone, but I can only comment on mine. I'll have 6 treatments in 3 week cycles, so 4.5 months of chemo. So on Day 1 out of my 21 day cycle, I go in and get the chemo drugs and then again in another 3 weeks. The first 3 treatments are one set of drugs and then I'll get another set of 3 for the last half of treatments. Here's what happens: I walk in to the section at Princess Margaret called Chemo Daycare. I check in, get handed a pager, and go walk around or sit in Druxy's until the pager goes off, can be anywhere from 1-3 hours from time of appt. Not their fault, this is not due to anything they've done wrong or inefficiently; they are over packed and busy as all hell because that is the state of our health care system currently, isn't it? This is evident even at Princess Margaret yet they are seemingly happy to help you and assist you and are among the most efficient and jovial people I've encountered under the circumstances. Anyway, I get paged, go and sit in a lazy boy-type chair (some people are in beds but they're getting different drugs than I am I think) and wait for the nurse to come by and administer my drugs. There are many patients and nurses in this one room, you can eat in there, walk around, family/friends just come and go while you're there, it's a relaxing environment. I get my IV, and this part isn't fun. I have 'flat' veins, they are pretty much non-existent and I'm subjected often to multiple pokes. I was told that I may be getting a portocath, a little device that gets surgically placed under your skin in your chest area so they can easily administer drugs and and you don't have to deal with needles. I've heard horror stories about those things though and I really don't want a device with tubes hanging out of my body for the next 6 months. Anyway, my nurse has been working the chemo daycare for 20 years, one poke ouch and I'm good. She tells me I shouldn't have to do that as the staff is well-equipped to deal with difficult veins. I'm relieved by this. First is the saline solution to hydrate I guess, that's about 20 minutes to start. Then comes a bag with my first medication Fluorouracil. I simply sit there while this drips in, takes about 15 minutes. Then comes the fun one; Epirubicin aka the Red Devil. There are three comically huge plastic syringes full of red liquid sitting next to me. This is the crazy chemo drug hence it's devilish name. Here's some insight to its power; they have plastic surgeons on call to come to the chemo clinic if called as if the nurse administering misses your vein when she pushes this drug into you, they need to call a plastic surgeon to come assess and help with the damage. Yikes! So anyway, unlike the first medicine that is a drip bag, this one is pushed into your vein slowly and carefully by a nurse. Three big plastic syringes worth. This is the hair loss drug and it makes your pee turn bright red for about a day. That was still shocking when I saw it, even though I knew it'd be there. This drug causes nausea and can be detrimental to your heart also, so I have to be careful due to my previous heart condition. Not spending time on this topic but when I was in my late teens, I had some heart problems, namely severe palpitations that on the first occurrence had me hospitalized with a heart rate of 227 beats per minute (normal is approx 74) before they gave me an injection which stopped and restarted my heart beat. For years I was on medication that had me gain a lot of weight in a short period of time. That medication basically regulated your heart beat which slowed my metabolism to a halt. I'm fine from this now and haven't been on those meds for years (they don't know what caused that condition either) but should be obviously careful with anything that has to do with the heart function. Have I even yet mentioned the brain scan or the really claustrophobic MRI I had while going through all my other tests for the completely unrelated issue of my migraine aura problems I was having before all this cancer stuff? I was getting a weird prism thing in my vision that started small but within 5-15 minutes would blind me kind of and I'd had this a few times over my life which was always followed by a migraine, but then in Spring this prism was appearing daily, although it wasn't followed by a migraine thankfully. It was however, affecting me being able to drive so I had to get this checked out as well. I went to a neurosurgeon who said it was most likely an 'aura migraine' (they have no idea how this happens, how it's cause or why I get these either) but I'd go for an MRI. Because it takes forever to get an MRI in this area of the world, it just happened to get scheduled months after I went for this issue and right at the same time as all my other tests, xrays, scans, appts. I've just had weird medical things my whole life, but really nothing that turned serious and I'm obviously referring to life before cancer, although I do to a certain degree credit going through all that other stuff (not to mention the accidents, broken bones, sprained ankles, stitches, etc etc) as why maybe I'm able to cope with this a bit better than I would had I not gone through other medical scares.
Sorry, constantly off topic as usual.
The last drug is Cyclophosphamide and this one can irritate your bladder and is also pushed. They tell you to drink loads of fluid the days leading up to chemo as well as after so you can get these meds flushed out asap. All in all, my day at chemo takes -once I'm seated in the lab- about 1.5 - 2.5 hours start to finish depending on what else is going on (pharmacies held up giving the meds, nurses are getting an influx of patients, etc etc). But that's pretty much it, you go home and wait for the fun to start.
There are so many different side effects that you can have, but some would be nausea, vomiting, bladder problems, low blood cells, weakness, tiredness, restlessness, weight gain (no, not loss as so many people think, you gain weight from chemo *sigh!*) metallic taste, mouth sores, joint pain. Those are some. I'll update what I personally experience as I go through it.

It's Chemo time

I shaved my head on Tuesday. Okay, Shawn shaved my head but I did the first ceremonious cut with the scissors. I almost couldn’t do it. I said I’d do it on the weekend, but since it was a long weekend, I waited until the very last minute. I guess I really didn’t want to deal with the bald look until I absolutely had to and the truth was, I was scared. People have asked me why I was going to do that, why didn’t I wait to see what would happen to my hair, maybe I wouldn’t lose it all, so and so had cancer and they didn’t lose their hair… So and so didn’t have my kind of meds obviously and didn’t have their doctor say to them, you’re gonna lose your hair, it’s a matter of when and he predicted within 7 days of my first treatment. Well, I guess I showed him! It's gonna be gone even before chemo starts, ha! I don’t want to lose my hair, but I will shave it off. To me, the difference is night and day. One I can control and the other I can’t. So it’s done. It isn’t even that bad, but of course I do still have some hair, I wonder what I’ll think when the stubble falls out and all that’s left is scalp. I think I’ll think that I’m glad I took it off on my terms and watching stubble fall out in the shower or on my pillow is better than seeing big clumps come out, screw that.

Yesterday was my first treatment. It took about 2 hours to get into the chemo clinic at Princess Margaret because Monday was a holiday and they were packed but they warned us they would be. It took about half an hour after they called me to get my drugs from the pharmacy as they were behind, and then it took another 2 hours to administer the drugs. I felt alright yesterday, came home from the hospital tired but I dunno if that was the meds or the fact that we’d spent all day at the hospital and we were both so drained. I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone really, so we just chilled out and went to bed at the reasonable hour of 11pm. That's when the fun started. I had conflicting information on what I’d go through during chemo. I was told that I shouldn’t celebrate in the first few days of my treatment when I wasn’t sick as it would most likely get worse. I wouldn’t feel really bad until day 7 to 10 because that’s when the platelets are low, etc. Okay, so what the hell was last night about? I woke up at 1:30am and had my first purge. Got rid of all the food I’d had during the day. Then at about 3:30am, the bile came up. It tasted awful, I know that sounds dumb as puke isn’t exactly appetizing, but this tasted just awful! After that, I got up every hour until about 9:30am in the morning but it wasn’t as bad as the first few times as it was just clear, other than being so exhausted from getting up. Poor Shawn is so helpless on what to do, that must be so frustrating but he’s so awesome. He stayed home from work because he was worried about me and I was glad he did. Today was rough, I can’t sugar coat it. I was and am scared to go through this and as I’m typing this I’m starting to cry but I find solace in telling myself that I will get through this and be stronger for having conquered this but it is hard. When you’re nauseous you wonder if you’re ever going to feel good again. I’ve had a headache since treatment yesterday and been uncomfortable and exhausted for most of the day. I wasn’t able to keep the anti-nausea pills down in order for them to help, so I may need to think about an anti-nausea suppository (ewww, sooo gross!) for the next phase as I don’t want to feel this bad and if I can avoid it I’ll try and find a way. I took my steroids as prescribed. They made me feel better I think once they kicked in & I instantly felt better after smoking a joint. I finally did at about 3pm or 4pm this afternoon. I didn’t want to but I’m so glad I did! It’s sad to me that this is illegal, seriously. There are people going through this and being in pain and they really could just smoke a dube to feel better, even for a short while. When you’re that sick, even a half hour reprieve is better than nothing! Before I smoked, I couldn’t keep a popsicle down. Right after, I felt like I could eat a steak and my mood was instantly better. I just felt better. My doctor would’ve prescribed me THC pills, but not actual pot to smoke. The conundrum is that when you’re puking, pills don’t really help, do they? Smoking did, instantly. I was finally able to keep down some food. I had tried a banana and popsicles this morning but both resurfaced. I had some chicken broth that the neighbour brought me from swiss chalet, and that stayed down thankfully although I didn’t eat the chicken or veggies, just the broth part. After I smoked, I had some pudding, 6 saltines, some pretzels and a handful of apricots. I’d say that’s pretty good. It’s going on 8pm and I have yet to be sick again. I hope this Kytril and Dextamethasone (or whatever the steroids and anti-nausea pills I’m taking are called) lasts until the morning. Wish me luck!