So, when I left off last time, I had just been diagnosed.
Long story short--we were devastated. My husband was calling people upstairs and I could hear him crying. He was researching, too. I'm usually the researcher, but I just couldn't do it. We told my daughters and my father and uncle (who both live with us). It was surreal-that's all I can say.
The rest of the week was insane! Biopsies the next day, answer the day after that that it was definitely cancer. But, it would take a week to know exactly what kind. We went to RI and had a bittersweet visit. I felt like this was the last time I was going to see everyone, and they felt the same. It was really hard. That Wednesday, the doctor called as promised, with the results. Inflammatory Breast Cancer, Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. Not good.
The following Monday, I met with my "second opinion" Oncologist. I had a list of questions to ask her that was three pages long. I had gotten these specific questions from my online support group. My husband, Alan, found it the first day I was diagnosed.
I really liked the doctor and, before we could even ask the questions, she answered them. She was right up on Inflammatory Breast Cancer. She knew the up to date treatment protocols, and she had the treatment plan already mapped out. Six months of chemo, Mastectomy, and about 8 weeks of radiation. She had a great sense of humor, which won me over immediately. She brought me through the whole building, introduced me to everyone, from the girls at the front desk, to the chemo nurses in the chemo bay. She was up front, but compassionate. But, she did say this, "I'm going to give you as much chemo as I can without killing you." We talked about me smoking, and, although she said she didn't condone it, I needed to try to do what I could to get through the treatment.
On Wednesday, I had a PET Scan, and on Thursday my first chemo. She had told me I would lose my hair within a week. I decided I would just go ahead and shave my head before hand. My husband shaved his head and so did my uncle and father. We have pictures of "The Uncle Festers". My hairdresser cried and cried as she shaved my head. I kept telling her it was alright.
I felt pretty good the first day of chemo. It was Adriamycin--a very, very strong chemo. The doctor had decided on a cocktail with Zofran, steroids, etc. I was given Zofran to take the night before, after the treatment and then three times a day for the weekend. She also loaded me up with Compazine, and another medicine to help with nausea and vomiting if I needed them.
Then Friday, I had my first Neulasta shot. OMG! That was horrible. But, it does as advertised, so it was a "necessary evil". Neulasta basically forces your body to make white blood cells. Your bones actually hurt from it. It's like having the most severe form of the flu! About 2 hours after the shot--I was in bed almost all weekend. On Mondays, I would feel a little better.
So, I had 6 Adriamycin treatments @ 3 weeks apart on Thursdays, with the Neulasta shot every Friday after the treatment. I seemed to tolerate the Adriamycin pretty well. However, the sheet was not shrinking, which was concerning.
The week before my last Adriamycin treatment, my husband and I were driving somewhere and he said something about being glad that this round of treatment is done. I said that it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but I was glad I didn't have to take anymore chemo. He turned and looked at me like I had five heads:). He said, "What do you mean? After this you have to do a whole round of Taxotere." I was shocked. I swear I didn't know that I was going to have more chemo. He couldn't believe I didn't remember that. I laughed though, because the worst side effect is chemo brain (and it IS a real thing).
So, then I started the Taxotere. What a difference! I had every side effect known to man with that. I had Hand and Foot Syndrome--my hands looked and felt like they had been dipped in battery acid. They burned so badly. (My feet did, too, but not as bad as my hands.) I lost all my finger and toe nails. I got Shingles. I threw up. And my body became more and more weak. And I felt heavy. I could barely make it up the stairs to my bedroom. If I squatted down to look at something on a bottom shelf in a store, I couldn't get up. It got to the point I couldn't walk--I had to ride the hideous wheelchair cart around if I went to the store. I threw up more. I was gaining weight (which they told me I would anyway at the beginning). I had earaches, sinus infections, and other kinds of infections. I was having a lot of IV antibiotics, and then having allergic reactions to those. I slowly had to give up doing the simplest things--like emptying the dishwasher. It was hell. But, guess what? The sheet shrunk quite a bit. It was still like 6 x 6 cms., so obviously, it was working.
Then, in October, after my last chemo treatment, I had to be hospitalized because I felt so heavy I couldn't move and I was swollen. I was in for 2 days and could only have 6 oz of fluid every 8 hours. Do you know what kind of torture that was? But, I lost 30 pounds in 2 days. Unbelievable.
In November, I had my right breast removed. And at the end of December I started Radiation. I'm not going to get into those two experiences until later. I finished all of that treatment on February 14, 2010.
After that, the tissue was archetyped against all cancer drugs available. One drug, Xeloda, killed 100% of the cancer cells. I took that for two years.
So, here I am today, 3 1/2 years from diagnosis.
In my next post, I will talk about Allyson's Vital Plan and how I got interested in it.
No comments:
Post a Comment