At 7:15 am on Monday morning, I’ll check into surgery at Zion for the biopsy. Might even ride my bike there! Then later in the week I’ll get the results and share with you.
Until then, I’m living large. Visited with two Rooney sisters today, will visit the fantabulous Torres family tomorrow, and spend time with Morgan on Sunday, all while intermittently helping Dad get a fence up to keep his dog in the yard and not out roaming the entire neighborhood.
It was a bit silly of me to be so excited about my last chemo. I should have known better, I’ve done this before. The last one of a round is not the last until the scan says so. But of course I was the hopeful one. It would have worked out pretty good: finish chemo over summer break, have surgery and get back to school without missing too much.
But the scan said otherwise. There’s been some progress diminishing what was showing up as cancer in my right breast, but not much. And now something is showing up in my left armpit. Probably a cancerous lymph node. Stupid cancer cells. I hate you.
I should hear tomorrow from radiology about scheduling a biopsy of that left side area which will determine the next step. I’m thinking a new cancer is better than if the same one metastasized to the other side. How ridiculous to be hoping for a new cancer.
Oh, and did I mention that I’m tired of being bald, my fingernails are disgusting, and I still can’t do a decent amount of aerobic exercise without making my heartrate skyrocket? Cancer sucks.
On a happier note… I got to hug and cuddle with my oldest niece last week, had a great time with my 3 youngest nieces over the weekend, shared some long and loud laughs on Sunday while playing games with my new cancer comrade and our men, had some tasty new brews with other friends on Monday night, and had a perfect morning and evening with my love today. Did you happen to get outside to see the San Diego sky tonight? It was gorgeous.
And as a last note… Thanks to those who have made such a positive difference in my days. I’ll never feel like I can express my appreciation enough but I can mention you. Thanks to Marcela and Modus and Diss for phone calls to check in, thanks to my sis and cuz and tante for “thinking of you” emails and texts, thanks to Rena and Dee for always posting warm fuzzy comments that make me smile even through happy tears sometimes, thanks to Cathy and Dar for being the best neighbor/girlfriends ever, thanks to Liz for green juice, thanks to Erin for the funniest cards, thanks to Shayne for pretty blue bottles of blinded bliss. Your love and support make it so much easier for me to work through this. I can’t imagine not having you in my life.
The current mental state:
time passing is so relative. there are moments/days/nights when it seems to go so slow. like in the dark last night, going from hot to cold, feeling some sort of indigestion/nausea inside, being much too awake to sleep but not motivated enough to get out of bed and write down the mess of thoughts running through my head.
then i get on here and realize it’s been over a month since my last post and think, “gosh, how much has happened?” so little? two chemo treatments that passed mostly as usual: felt crappy for a bit, went to school, felt good for about a week, then started the whole thing over again yesterday. so much? made closer friends with Heather, met Shayne 
and started a friendship, kept up with the old baseball girls at dinner and the wives club at a Padre game, closed out my first Physics APC class, sent all my seniors off to graduation (well, all but one who failed), sent all the rest on to another year, supported Morgan through all his frustrations with a messed up elbow and a company that doesn’t want him back, and even ran 2 blocks of the RockNRoll half to support Megan. went through a phase that had a low end of feeling unsupported and a high end of feeling like the support wasn’t needed and ended up somewhere in the middle, just appreciating what was provided.
it’s interesting how life is such a balance. seize the day, but plan for the future; focus on me getting well, but don’t become self-obsessed; eat healthy, but don’t go crazy feeling guilty when I don’t have the time/money/energy to do it; be there for the students, but don’t stay at school all day; pay attention to new research and therapies to fight cancer but remain scientific and consider sample size, source, etc; get out to socialize, but don’t overextend myself; ask for support, but don’t be a baby; cry when needed, but remain strong. The tightrope of life. As long as it’s not a noose, right?
The emotional and physical update:
I only have one more chemo to go. Morgan has been adding a bead to my bracelet each time as a reminder of how far we’ve come. I’m on break from school so that is a big obligation that won’t be missed. I’m scheduled for a PET scan two weeks from this Friday. It’s got me a bit freaked out. So far, we’ve known exactly what to do… chemo every 3 weeks, and roughly what to expect… the cycle of tired eventually leading to feeling good again. But now waiting for the scan and it’s results is a new unknown territory. I’ll keep a positive outlook and hope for the best, but aren’t I supposed to prepare for the worst also? I suppose I’m working on that, but limiting it to conversations mostly in my own head, and occasionally with Morgan. So until that scan gets looked at and discussed with my oncologist, I’m sort of just trying to lean to one side of the balance bar: be thankful for and make the most of each day that passes.
I suppose most chemotherapy patients don’t do much blogging about a triathlon, but you know me… just a bit crazy. Maybe like P!nk says, “wrong in all the right ways?”
Last time I was in treatment I did a race, so I figured I could do one this time. Never mind that my oncologist said that the second time would likely be tougher, or that I’ve had to miss more school this time than last, or that I’ve felt way crappier this time around, or even that my last treatment was only 5 days prior… I could still do a race. After all, it would just be a ‘mini’ sprint. And *every* finisher would get a medal!
The evening before, even the moments before, I told Morgan, “I’m not sure I can do this.” But he knew I could and he encouraged me and by the time I hit the water, I was good to go. I didn’t push hard, just swam at a regular pace. The transition to the bike was *really* long, but I was trying to remind myself that I just wanted to finish, it wasn’t really a race this time. On Fiesta Island, the headwinds were harsh, but I kept singing in my head and thinking of all the people who would be proud of me and was able to at least maintain peddling. When I transitioned to the sneakers, I knew I was getting tired. I would run a bit and feel pretty decent, but after a short (really short) distance, I’d have to walk. Headphones with good music helped, but I also didn’t want to shut out the encouraging cheers of the supporters. I needed that more than music. Finally had the finish line in sight and knew it was close enough to run to. So I told myself, “this is it,” I picked up the pace and went with as much gusto as I could. Getting closer I could hear the announcer calling out names and I really wanted to hear mine, but I had to focus too hard on keeping my legs moving and any sounds from outside my head disappeared. I crossed the blue timing mat and then saw the second mat, and for a moment remembered being frustrated with that in the past. “Why do they put that first one out? It always tricks me into thinking I’m done, and then I have to go like 25 feet more. How dumb.” Second mat, steps away, I could see the medals hanging from pretty yellow ribbons … Yes, crossed it, DONE I did it! Stumbled a few feet into line with the racers ahead of me and then realized… the jerk kids handing out medals didn’t even give me one.
How anticlimactic and unrewarding to have to turn back around and ask for a medal.
(Thanks a ton to Kim and Cathy, my long time baseball girlfriends for staying after they were done to cheer me on, and to Morgan, my love for being with me through it all)
kim, me, cathy
The weeks after the last treatment went as expected with the Lily walk, school, and lots of special dinners and cuddling and sweet times with Morgan.
The trip to my oncologist went mostly as expected with one small bummer. Nothing bad to say about the progress of things, it was just a scheduling/logistics issue really. I had been so excited to have reached the halfway mark, but then he mentioned that I had 4 more chemo treatments scheduled. 4!? I thought it was only 3? Argh. He explained that he wants me to have 6 full treatments with the new drug he added on for the second treatment. Oh well, I’ve handled this much, what’s one more, right?
The one additional treatment isn’t too bad to face, but I have noticed my nails starting to hurt (like they did last time before they started decomposing, ewww.) And my veins seem to be getting less poke friendly. Those are the side effects that become worse with each visit, so for those, the one more is a bummer to face. But the second drug is the one that seemed to be making a positive difference so I’ll smile, be calm, and carry on.
My 4th visit started out a bit rushed since I’d forgotten to get my bloodwork done the day before (those of you close to me know my struggles with memory and timeliness). I decided to ask Morgan to visit me and bring a bagel sandwich or something for breakfast since I didn’t want to take any extra time at home before the appointment. It was a bit odd. We’d kept him out of that part of my treatment. It seemed to be a way to keep things at home more normal and I was hesitant to break that. But maybe this far into the game, it wouldn’t be a big deal. He was willing and when he showed up for the hour long stay, things were just fine. And isn’t it true that whatever experience you can get through together just makes you closer? I’ll gladly take that
Next on the agenda… a super sprint triathlon this coming Sunday. 200 m swim, 6 mile bike, 1.5 mile run. Last time I did this race mid-chemo, I couldn’t run the whole thing. And when I tried doing a mock race at the gym last weekend, I couldn’t then either. And that was at the *end* of the 3 week cycle. With this race being only 1 week into the cycle, I’m trying to tell myself to be happy with getting through even if I walk the whole thing. Although I’m pretty sure I’ll still run what I can. At least I’d better finish it running!
So send me good mojo Sunday morning and my next post will include the results.
I didn’t have the courage to write about it… Each time before a treatment, I visit my oncologist to let him check the progress of the chemo. No PET or MRI, just a physical exam. When he saw the rash (which I knew had gotten a bit larger) he got this concerned look on his face and mentioned that he’d expected the rash to get smaller, or at least stay the same size. Seeing it larger worried him… and me (duh). So he added a third drug to my list and said “Let’s see how this works.” Yeah! my fave… wait and see.
So I went in for the second treatment (with the new drug) and dealt with the aftermath. The first few days usually go fine (steroids really do give you wings), I walked Lily to school on Thursday and ran the 1 mile route back home. Did feel crappy for about a week, but being on spring break let me take it really easy. We missed the annual spring training trip to Arizona, but by the end of the month, I felt well enough to join Morgan on a drive to Mammoth. Maybe anticipating a great day snowboarding just tricked my brain, but either way, it was a trip well worth it and it put me in a good mood to go back to school for the first week of April.
Monday the 8th was the next checkup. Of course I was anxious about what Oval would say. The rash looked more like discoloration, and it hadn’t really gotten bigger, but it definitely hadn’t gotten smaller. When he saw it, the look on his face wasn’t very telling. So we talked and he said that the change in color and the fact that it hadn’t spread more was a good sign. He also pointed out that the surface of the skin seemed better, almost like the rash was going away and the skin was just showing signs of scarring. He did acknowledge being a bit discouraged last visit, but said this visit definitely restored his hope. So despite the previous visit creating quite a bummer, this one lifted some of the weight off my shoulders.
Marcela (my best friend from high school) joined me for the treatment and we chatted the time away. It’s funny how relationships work. Of all the people I still keep in touch with, she’s the one I’ve known the longest. (aside from people in my actual family, or people like Mama Maggi who may as well be family) We were out of touch for years, but would reconnect a bit every few years or so, and now we’ve been on a bit of a roll, staying in touch much more frequently. Our husbands have even hung out enough to discover that they like each other Sometimes it seems like I’m supporting her, sometimes it seems like she’s supporting me. I suppose there are probably days where both are happening, which is probably part of what makes it such a great friendship.
So the plan for the rest of this week… Walk Lily to school again, enjoy the fact that my classes are covered by a wonderful retired teacher who knows and loves science *and cares about the kids, then celebrate being married to my favorite person for nine whole years. Next week, back to school for an easy week of administering state tests, and the week after that should be business as usual. And then mark the halfway done point at the end of April.
I hung onto it as long as I could. I just really liked the new red. But by the start of the third week, it was really falling out. So we had a another head shaving party, this time with the neighbors. We didn’t quite shave it all off, just made it really short. It got a bit crazy, but made for some great sno-cone eating entertainment.
almost all short
sno cone show
all short
I was saving the short shave for something special… Friday the 15th was an assembly day just for the class of 2015. They finished the California High School Exit Exam that week, they had finally won spirit points at the last schoolwide assembly, and the 15th was our last day of class before spring break. We had to celebrate, so Steph Miller and I put together some fun games and prizes for a lunchtime activity in the gym. When I introduced us their class advisors, I asked if they’d ever seen this level of dedication before:
’15
they seemed pretty jazzed that a teacher would shave their year into the back of their head.
I had my first treatment 3 weeks ago, just before that last post. I went in on Tuesday, stayed home Wed, then went to school on Th/Fri. It was spirit week, Friday was the Girls vs Boys assembly with me as the female teacher rep. I couldn’t let cancer get in the way of a good spirit assembly, so I said nothing, just cheered for all the Mustang ladies. Somehow the boys still won. Monday rolled around, and I was tired, but went to school and let the students know what was up. “You know me, I’ve done this, I’ll be fine, I’m superwoman! Now let’s do some Physics.” And we did, as if nothing was any different. Then Wed I realized I had gotten sick. Really sick. So sick I had to miss the end of Wed and the rest of the week. I might have taken death over feeling that crappy. But Monday I was back again, and dutifully pointed out to the classes (and myself) that I was not quite the superwoman I thought I was. I was not invincible, and I did have a major weakness- a non-existent immune system that wasn’t supposed to be hanging out in a public school environment. So we agreed to all be more careful: not share pens, staplers, calculators etc between them and me, wash hands, and keep hands off of the toys I’m demonstrating with that day. Since then, we’ve been much better. They even remind each other and me to keep things clean.
The bad news: cancer has re-invaded my body. Of course there’s good news, too: I’m not scheduled to die anytime soon.
A bit of a rash had developed a week or so before my last regular check up and when I went in, a biopsy tested positive for cancer cells. They scheduled a PET scan at the end of the week and Morgan and I stewed all weekend wondering what the results would be. The preferred situation (at this point) was that it was limited to just the breast and chemo and surgery would put me back to good again. The other situation, well, we decided to not really talk about it. Monday finally emerged through the eternity of time and the news was good- I would start chemo the next day. I was actually really excited for chemo. What a weird feeling.
Damn. My hair was starting to look really good.
Guess I should do something with it while I can.
with color and a style
in case you were wondering…
Side effects: supposedly it does cause some fatigue, but I’m not really noticing any. The bummer side of it is really just two points: 1) it’s *every* day for six weeks and there’s no way for that type of scheduling to not be a pain in the rear. I had to leave school shortly after the day was over which made it really hard to do any tutoring, tidy up the room, or prep for the next day. And there was never time to support my students by watching their sport events. So I left school, drove downtown, had my 10 minutes of zap and drove home in the beginnings of traffic. The other bummer is 2) the skin where the radiation is focused basically gets sunburned. Depending on skin type and color, it ranges in degree of burn. My skin has held up pretty well. There’s a funny tan line under my arm pit that is the edge of where I get zapped. And there is one area where the skin is burned worse than I ever had before, but it’s not blistering, so I’m okay with the itch and sensitivity.
My doctor’s been really great about sharing stuff with me to help me geek out. They hit me about 10 times either from different angles or with different target areas and/or depths. Each zap has its own map and I’ve seen the maps overlapped. There’s a cool avatar of me (well, more just my chest) with each field highlighted in a different color. Pretty cool to see, I think. And it’s neat they way they use lasers and my tattoo markers to line me up exactly the same every time.
The techs are all really nice and two of the guys are actually a bit cute. It’s weird, considering what they are doing to me, but it’s always better to be working with cute guys than really ugly or old ones.
only one more visit and then it’s over yay!!!
