Well, last Friday didn't rate as one of my recent favorite days....it was the first day of the second round of chemo and I was mentally prepared. Or so I thought. The day, just like so many have in past weeks, just didn't go exactly as I'd planned. It was a day that didn't start well and went from there, Accessing the port was difficult and, after the second attempt, there still wasn't a very good blood flow. I knew enough to realize that isn't a good sign, but the nurse was able to attach the IV and the first bag of hydrating fluid started. After about 15 mins, I realized something was wrong because of a strong stinging sensation in my chest just below the port. The nurses have taught me well and I knew this was not right - there should be no sensation at all. The upshot was there had been concern from the beginning (unknown to me) that the port was compromised in some way due to the difficulty in accessing the port and a spongy feel to the port pad (I learned all this later on). So, I was sent over to the hospital for a contrast dye test to see if there was a leak. After many moments of anxious waiting to get in for the test, and then the test itself, it was confirmed there was a leak in the port, a separation of the port and catheter rendering the port unusable. Chemo was canceled for the day and would begin on Saturday instead. Emotionally, I fell apart - there is more of a mental anticipation/preparation that goes on than I always realize and this setback did not do my nerves any good. Physically, I had already been poked with needles more than I wanted to be and knowing the chemo would have to be peripheral vein access instead didn't add to my emotional well being at that point. I was so grateful to have Dad and two dear friends there to just hold my hand, pray with me and let me cry my heart out. Not an easy time.
As I've said before, God is in the details, even the smallest ones, and He kept whispering to me to remember that He is in charge, He has a plan and not to worry, all would be well. By the time I got home, I was a little more settled - tired, but ok. I knew there was a chemo plan, I wasn't the first patient to ever have problems with a chemo-port and I have good doctors that know exactly how to plan for such things like this. Dr. Karamlou did say it is only a very small percentage of patients that experience port problems, so once again I get to join the elite group of the "nothing usual about this cancer journey". :)
Then came the second blow. Corbett, my much loved black lab, had had surgery to remove a mast cell mass on her leg the Tuesday prior. Lynn, her vet, called me with the biopsy results and the news was not good. The biopsy indicates the mass has reached "level 3" and that's a serious, usually terminal stage. Given the severity of her illness, she may have a few more months at best, but it is hard to know at this point. She could rally and outlive that diagnosis by a long stretch (certainly my prayer!) or not. Corbett has been my constant companion for 10 1/2 years and I just can't imagine life without that goofy diva dog. I am praying there is healing for her or certainly that she hangs on for a good long time, while I am healing because it will devastate me to have to put her down if the illness gets too advanced. But just like my own daily challenges, I am taking each day with her for the blessing it is and for now, for today, she is her usual spunky self. I do find myself sneaking her a few more milkbones than usual though :) Once again, I was given a little blessing of encouragement. I was reminded of my step-mom's brother's dog, a black lab mix that had a very serious stage 4 cancer and lived another 4 years after the diagnosis. There is hope and I am grateful to God that He is that, my hope.
As I'd feared, having to find a different vein every day for the chemo IV access was challenging (if you're squeamish, skip this part). The first few days meant trying to find a good different vein each day and it didn't go well, usually multiple attempts before a successful access was made. My arms are lovely shades of black, blue and purple up and down both sides and I will go on record as saying this was no fun at all, many tears and clenched jaw. Yesterday and today, after fervent prayer for ease in finding a vein, went much better and chemo was not bad. One last chemo to go, on Saturday, and then the chemo part is finished. Saturday is the "big gun", Cisplatin, and I'm hopeful the side effects will stay minimal. Truly, I haven't had much in the way of side effects - increased fatigue, my throat is a little more sore and I have difficulty swallowing some things easily, but other than that, not too bad. Coffee and chocolate remain the only two things that absolutely don't appeal (yes, coffee went away again this week). Dad made his famous tacos for dinner one night while he was here (has been a favorite meal of mine, his tacos, since I was a little girl and they tasted as wonderful as ever!) and I enjoyed every bite. My hair is growing back ever so slightly in some places and it looks like the little pin feathers baby ducks get :)
Some good indications - my cough has almost totally gone away and the doctors are pleased, saying this is an indication there is a response to treatment. Though I've lost some weight, it's not significant enough to raise any alarms and all the blood counts have been in acceptable ranges, so no deferment of treatment. Overall, my energy level has been good and I'm still getting around under my own steam most of the time. Bedtimes are a little earlier these days, but I am grateful to still feel so good.
After the end of the 56 day cycle (March 13th), we wait a week or two and then take another series of scans to compare. If prayers are answered and this chemo-rad stuff did it's job, then the tumor and nodes should be sufficiently shrunk enough to remove them surgically (hopefully, along with the nodule in the pancreas). This would get the cancer out once and for awhile and then, a management type protocol to keep it all at bay. My ideal birthday present is for the doctors to scratch their heads in amazement because the scans come back completely clean - nothing shows up at all. Keep saying that prayer with me, ok?
There are still so many things that make me smile....a whole box of handmade valentine's from my students, the blue Marge Simpson wig my brother ordered for me arrived and it's a beauty! I'll be wearing it proudly when I go in to school tomorrow and see the kids. I'm still not teaching for awhile, but have to go in for some miscellaneous paperwork and meet with my sub, Linda, and will have the blue beehive perched high on my head. :-) Today was a gorgeous spring like day and the sun is a balm to my soul. It got up to almost 60 degrees - practically tropical weather by Portland standards :) Pre-season games for the Mariners start on 2/25 and I'll have those to listen to on the radio during the day...yessss! I had a wonderful visit with dad, it was great to have him here. No doubt he saw more than he wanted to of my chemo-rads world, but he rallied and was right there for me. He and my mom both, not to mention the many friends that have kept me company during chemo, or delivered meals, books, dvd's, cards, silly phone messages to make me laugh and have blessed my life in a myriad of ways.
Hugs and love to all of you, enjoy your days!
Susan
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