You Big Baby!

I cried a lot today. I cried when I showed a nurse the rosary that my mother-in-law loaned me for chemo treatments. It is old and has been prayed on a lot. I take it with me for the power it holds. I cried in the car on the way home from the grocery store b/c I was thinking about the enormity of having cancer. Why, exactly, do I have cancer? How, exactly, did this happen? How could this happen to me; it can only happen to other people, right? I cried later thinking about all the ladies years ago who endured horrible treatments that made them vomit for days and shrink into not more than a walking skeleton. Those treatments were so primitive and were far less effective than what is available to me now. I cried at dinner, talking with old friends about what's happening. Most days, I am much more matter-of-fact. I do what I have to do, go where I have to go, deal with side effects, go see doctors, pick up films and all the other chores, big and small, that make getting cancer treatment a part-time job. But today, my eyes kept leaking. So, I think I'll just go to bed. And cry...

Twenty Two

Last night I met a woman who is a 22-year breast cancer survivor. Twenty-two years!! She looked great and she was great. I want to be just like her when I grow up! In 22 years, I'll be a senior citizen for sure, but if I reach that mark, I'll be very happy.

What do I think??

So far in my breast cancer treatment, I have made only one decision: Trust the docs at Sinai and do everything they say. It's worked out great! My cancer is in retreat and I've survived the treatments. Now, however, I have to actually THINK and make some decisions. This is hard. Mastectomy or quadrant resection? Single or double mastectomy? Reconstruction? It's a decision that only I can make, but I'm going to get some reinforcement. My surgeon is a great resource but I might actually start surfing the net again. Also, this week I checked out the Hopewell Center at Joppa and Falls Roads. They have a breast cancer support group (among lots of other cancer support services). Think I'll go talk to my 'sisters' there...

The Mole

Thought of a good analogy for someone getting chemotherapy: Whack A Mole! Picture my head popping up out of the hole, then the hammer - the chemo, duh! - comes down and smacks me. But, here's the thing: I pop right back up, until next time... Lucky girl, is me, 'cause I always pop back up!

That's How They Do It

When you have cancer, just like when you are pregnant, people that you tell usually have their own story to relate. With breast cancer, I often heard about a co-worker, friend or relative that received a course of chemo and never missed a day of work. This made me feel like a wimp, a lightweight, because I couldn't imagine going to work as bad as I felt! I had a string of days after each chemo where I didn't even change my clothes - just melted out of bed in the morning, moped around all day, then laid back down at night, hoping for sleep that was uninterrrupted by trips to the bathroom. Eating anything at all required lots of consideration about what would cause the least discomfort. Headaches, body aches, fatigue, etc. I could manage going to work on days 5 and 6 after a treatment but that was it.
Then, I started this second round of chemo with Taxol instead of Adriamicin and Cytoxan. Appently, Taxol is a much more common agent used for breast cancer that the 'red devil' and its sidekick. I can definitely work while receiving Taxol. WAY less side effects! So, now I see how they do it! And - I don't fell like such a wimp 'cause not very many - maybe nobody - could work while getting A & C.