While I wait for my follow-up appointment with Dr. Chatson right after the new year, my focus turned to other 'issues' that needed some attention; decline in vision due to my progressing cataract(s); and, my abdominal aeortic aneurysm.
My right eye (by itself) has deteriated so drastically, that I can see very few things clearly. Depending on the light, I can make out shapes and determine color, but can't read any sign - regardless of the font. Oddly, if I make a fist and look through a small crack (like a telescope) I'm able to see clearly. Albeit, just a small area. This makes sense. The cataract is beginning to form on the lens and by my making a smaller field of vision (looking through my fist), my pupil is dilating and allowing me to see 'around it'. The glasses I received in October provide no help, but I still where them. I'm sure it's providing some support to my good eye.
Wanting to initiate the process for cataract surgery, I began some (tedious) research for an approved provider. I won't expand on the catch 22 I was drawn into trying to get a referral, but I eventually gained approval to see a specialist at the Massachusetts Eye and Ear Infirmary. I have an appointment at their Stoneham location for early February. [I should have started this earlier apparently, given the two month wait.] With the next season on our heels, I am hopeful that we don't have any snow event that day (or before for that matter).
During this space between, I also wanted to revisit my Triple A condition. Late Spring, I had had two opinions, an MRI and two ultra sounds. Although each medical professional's estimates were slightly different on the actual size, each advised that the risk of treatment out-weighed the benefit. In addition, neither wanted to do anything until it got larger (5.5 cm). Depending on whom you talk to, my aneurysm was between 4.9 and 5.1 cm.
I made an appointment with a local vascular surgeon. I had seen Dr. Pare before and had to cancel a follow-up due to my chemotherapy. I figured that I was just looking for any growth and depending on that, and if needed, I would persue my options at St Elizabeth's.
Upon being brought into the examination room today, Dr. Pare was bought up to speed on my overall challenges. He instructed me to lie down and lift my shirt. After smearing on some goop, he started with the ultrasound. Surprisingly, the instrument was warm. I was ready for that initial shock of cold metal.
After a few minutes and some lengthy time spent over certain sections of my stomach, Dr. Pare said, "Well I have some good news for you today." Anxious to hear this, I said, "I could use some good news today." Dr. Pare said, "It hasn't gotten any bigger." He suggested a 6 month follow-up.
That was GREAT news. I thanked him. Wished him a Merry Christmas and scheduled an appointment for June 21st, which will be here before you know it.
Yes, this news is very welcomed.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Monday, November 30, 2015
6 month follow-up with Dr. Moore
Clearly it was 'back to work' for those doing their 9 to 5 today. The parking lot for Dr. Moore's office was packed. There were a few cars circling for free spots. I made one trip through and was lucky enough to snag a spot, but it was on the far end. I can use the exercise.
It's hard to believe that my mastectomy (part two) was six months ago. When I made this appointment in May, it seemed so far away. Little did I know I would be having a quite interesting medical journey since that time. I was also questioning the relevance of this appointment since I was fresh from reconstructive surgery and the surgery performed by Dr. Moore was altered. How could he comment on my recuperation? I decided to keep the appointment anyway.
At the check in, it was a typical Monday with the 'system' not cooperating. Apparently in preparation for some Obamacare changes, there is a new coding system, but not all the bugs have been worked out. What would normally take 5 minutes, took a half hour. Even after that they had to 'fudge' the system to accept payment. I was told to, "Hold on to that receipt". [Hmmm, I see myself talking to a 'representative' of the billing department sometime in my near future.]
I was called into the examination room and Dr. Moore joined me almost immediately. He asked how I was doing. I bought him up to speed with what transpired since we last met. He did mention that he had conversations with both doctors, Mehta and Chatson. So he was more up to speed that I thought. I had mentioned that I thought this appointment didn't make sense given my recent reconstruction. He agreed, but said he wanted to take a look anyway.
I removed my shirt and undershirt and he had me lie on the examination table. I thought it was funny when he started examining my right breast. I had to remind him that he worked on the left. [Granted he sees many patients and it's probably hard to recall which side for each. But, I took this as validation that the reconstruction is coming along.]
Dr. Moore examined my lymph nodes/arm pit for lumps and said, "There are none." I had mentioned that I was concerned with a portion of my left breast (where the liposuction was performed). To me, it felt like a large mass. He assured me that it was normal swelling and possibly some fluid. "I'm not concerned with it. It's normal", he said. Hearing that made this appointment valuable.
He said, "I prefer to stagger some of these appointments. Since you are having a six month with Dr. Mehta in June, I want to see you next year. We can talk about our Thanksgiving."
So it's Dr. Moore on the Monday following Thanksgiving. I'm sure this time will also fly by.
More to come.
It's hard to believe that my mastectomy (part two) was six months ago. When I made this appointment in May, it seemed so far away. Little did I know I would be having a quite interesting medical journey since that time. I was also questioning the relevance of this appointment since I was fresh from reconstructive surgery and the surgery performed by Dr. Moore was altered. How could he comment on my recuperation? I decided to keep the appointment anyway.
At the check in, it was a typical Monday with the 'system' not cooperating. Apparently in preparation for some Obamacare changes, there is a new coding system, but not all the bugs have been worked out. What would normally take 5 minutes, took a half hour. Even after that they had to 'fudge' the system to accept payment. I was told to, "Hold on to that receipt". [Hmmm, I see myself talking to a 'representative' of the billing department sometime in my near future.]
I was called into the examination room and Dr. Moore joined me almost immediately. He asked how I was doing. I bought him up to speed with what transpired since we last met. He did mention that he had conversations with both doctors, Mehta and Chatson. So he was more up to speed that I thought. I had mentioned that I thought this appointment didn't make sense given my recent reconstruction. He agreed, but said he wanted to take a look anyway.
I removed my shirt and undershirt and he had me lie on the examination table. I thought it was funny when he started examining my right breast. I had to remind him that he worked on the left. [Granted he sees many patients and it's probably hard to recall which side for each. But, I took this as validation that the reconstruction is coming along.]
Dr. Moore examined my lymph nodes/arm pit for lumps and said, "There are none." I had mentioned that I was concerned with a portion of my left breast (where the liposuction was performed). To me, it felt like a large mass. He assured me that it was normal swelling and possibly some fluid. "I'm not concerned with it. It's normal", he said. Hearing that made this appointment valuable.
He said, "I prefer to stagger some of these appointments. Since you are having a six month with Dr. Mehta in June, I want to see you next year. We can talk about our Thanksgiving."
So it's Dr. Moore on the Monday following Thanksgiving. I'm sure this time will also fly by.
More to come.
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
Stitches removed
It must be because of the pre-holiday work day, because it took me just 20 minutes to get to Dr. Chatson's office. I had planned for 45 minutes, so I arrived very early. So there were many places to park.
Today is the day the sutures will be removed. Good thing because they are starting to get itchy and seem to cling to fabric (and pull).
The Physician's Assistant took me right in and checked my vitals. I was asked to strip from the waist up and wait for Dr. Chatson. Not too long after, he arrived and wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. Looking me over he said, "Things are looking good." He asked me to mount the examination table and he prepared some surgical instruments. While talking about what comes next, he snipped away the stitches with a minimal amount of discomfort. Apparently, the next surgery will be some time in March. He said he'd prefer to have about three months of recovery before he was going to place the proverbial cherry on my new left breast. He asked me to consider if I prefer that he "attempt" to match my right nipple, or reduce the current size of the existing one and make both flat. "No need for a decision today."
I'll think about it, but my first reaction was to leave nature as it intended and create the man-made nipple to resemble what exists today. My thoughts today - tomorrow, who knows?
While the sutures were removed he said that he would also remove a skin flag I found as his Thanksgiving gift to me - no charge. [Hmmm, we now have to have Thanksgiving gifts, I thought.] I accepted with gratitude.
As I was dressing, he asked that I schedule an appointment for about a month out. Also he looked over my folder and interjected with, "Oh, just so you'll know. The tissue I removed from your right breast reduction came back as non-malignant - cancer free."
Now THAT is something to be thankful for!
Today is the day the sutures will be removed. Good thing because they are starting to get itchy and seem to cling to fabric (and pull).
The Physician's Assistant took me right in and checked my vitals. I was asked to strip from the waist up and wait for Dr. Chatson. Not too long after, he arrived and wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. Looking me over he said, "Things are looking good." He asked me to mount the examination table and he prepared some surgical instruments. While talking about what comes next, he snipped away the stitches with a minimal amount of discomfort. Apparently, the next surgery will be some time in March. He said he'd prefer to have about three months of recovery before he was going to place the proverbial cherry on my new left breast. He asked me to consider if I prefer that he "attempt" to match my right nipple, or reduce the current size of the existing one and make both flat. "No need for a decision today."
I'll think about it, but my first reaction was to leave nature as it intended and create the man-made nipple to resemble what exists today. My thoughts today - tomorrow, who knows?
While the sutures were removed he said that he would also remove a skin flag I found as his Thanksgiving gift to me - no charge. [Hmmm, we now have to have Thanksgiving gifts, I thought.] I accepted with gratitude.
As I was dressing, he asked that I schedule an appointment for about a month out. Also he looked over my folder and interjected with, "Oh, just so you'll know. The tissue I removed from your right breast reduction came back as non-malignant - cancer free."
Now THAT is something to be thankful for!
Monday, November 23, 2015
3 month check-in - Dr. Mehta
It's a good thing to know back roads.
Heading out to my appointment with my onchologist today, I noticed that 495 South was at a standstill. With some quick thinking I headed towards the New Hampshire border and took Rosemont to Hilldale to Monument to Rte. 97. I meandered my way to West Lowell Ave and into Methuen. Smart move. Apparently there was a huge pothole on the bridge spanning the Merrimack which had caused a traffic tie up since 9:30 AM. Close call.
Not sure if it were the lunch hour or the effects of the traffic, but Holy Family was a ghost town. I had to check my appointment card to ensure that I was truly supposed to be there. Every cloud has a silver lining and things were smooth sailing. I was in and out of vitals check and had my labs taken care of in just 15 minutes. I hardly had enough time to check some emails when I was called into the examination room. While waiting to Dr. Mehta to arrive, I was researching the symptoms of DVT (deep vein thrombosis). DVT has been known to be a side effect of Tamoxifen. Today, I woke up with some pain in my calf. Thinking it's because I haven't been able to do my regular regimen of exercise (due to my recuperation from recent reconstruction surgery), I had taken a three mile walk at 10 AM. The pain I had was more - muscle soreness, but my heightened awareness to side effects immediately placed me on the path to DVT. I did want to discuss this with the doctor.
Dr. Mehta arrived shortly after and was surprised by my 'new look' (my hair is growing back and I now have facial hair). He said that I was looking good. [I bet he says that to all his cancer patients LOL]. He asked me to tell him everything - meaning any and all side effects, aches pains, and concerns. We discussed my progressing cataract condition. He said that Tamoxifen has been found to cause vision problems, he did say that stopping Tamoxifen would not reverse the condition. He suggested trying some over the counter remedies (visine, omega 3 supplement) which he said may help. But he did say that as the cataract(s) progress, surgery is the only option. So we'll continue to monitor its progression. At this point it's more of an aggravation. I'm thankful that my left eye hasn't shown symptoms - yet.
Dr. Mehta looked at my list of reported side effects and asked how each was doing. The back pains in my flank area seemed to have dissipated, my stamina is improving. There are still some stubborn pockets of neuropathy that persist (finger and balls of my feet). He asked if I had noticed any lumps. I had mentioned that I recently had surgery and he asked to take a look. He said, "Things are coming along nicely". He then began feeling for lumps/masses. He was gentle, given that things were still in the 'tender' stage. He said he didn't feel any masses. [It's scary to think that with everything I've been through, that I still have to be super cognizant of new lumps. Yup, scary.]
He asked if there was anything else. I mentioned this new calf pain that started today. He asked me to raise my pant leg and began feeling and positioning my foot while asking, "Does that hurt?"
Other than a 'sore muscle' sensation - no it didn't hurt. He said, "If you had DVT, you would be in much more pain." I'll monitor this. It's tough being super sensitive - because you have to.
Dr. Mehta said, "At this point, your labs are all good, your marrow is producing, you didn't need a boost. So I'll see you in 6 months. No labs are required. However, if your tolerance to Tamoxifen changes or side effects manifest (or worsen), please make an appointment."
I thanked him and said Happy Thanksgiving and he responded with, "Happy Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and all the others. I'll see you in 6."
One chapter placed on hiatus. Reconstruction continues, then on the Triple A. Will cataract surgery jump the line? We'll see.
Heading out to my appointment with my onchologist today, I noticed that 495 South was at a standstill. With some quick thinking I headed towards the New Hampshire border and took Rosemont to Hilldale to Monument to Rte. 97. I meandered my way to West Lowell Ave and into Methuen. Smart move. Apparently there was a huge pothole on the bridge spanning the Merrimack which had caused a traffic tie up since 9:30 AM. Close call.
Not sure if it were the lunch hour or the effects of the traffic, but Holy Family was a ghost town. I had to check my appointment card to ensure that I was truly supposed to be there. Every cloud has a silver lining and things were smooth sailing. I was in and out of vitals check and had my labs taken care of in just 15 minutes. I hardly had enough time to check some emails when I was called into the examination room. While waiting to Dr. Mehta to arrive, I was researching the symptoms of DVT (deep vein thrombosis). DVT has been known to be a side effect of Tamoxifen. Today, I woke up with some pain in my calf. Thinking it's because I haven't been able to do my regular regimen of exercise (due to my recuperation from recent reconstruction surgery), I had taken a three mile walk at 10 AM. The pain I had was more - muscle soreness, but my heightened awareness to side effects immediately placed me on the path to DVT. I did want to discuss this with the doctor.
Dr. Mehta arrived shortly after and was surprised by my 'new look' (my hair is growing back and I now have facial hair). He said that I was looking good. [I bet he says that to all his cancer patients LOL]. He asked me to tell him everything - meaning any and all side effects, aches pains, and concerns. We discussed my progressing cataract condition. He said that Tamoxifen has been found to cause vision problems, he did say that stopping Tamoxifen would not reverse the condition. He suggested trying some over the counter remedies (visine, omega 3 supplement) which he said may help. But he did say that as the cataract(s) progress, surgery is the only option. So we'll continue to monitor its progression. At this point it's more of an aggravation. I'm thankful that my left eye hasn't shown symptoms - yet.
Dr. Mehta looked at my list of reported side effects and asked how each was doing. The back pains in my flank area seemed to have dissipated, my stamina is improving. There are still some stubborn pockets of neuropathy that persist (finger and balls of my feet). He asked if I had noticed any lumps. I had mentioned that I recently had surgery and he asked to take a look. He said, "Things are coming along nicely". He then began feeling for lumps/masses. He was gentle, given that things were still in the 'tender' stage. He said he didn't feel any masses. [It's scary to think that with everything I've been through, that I still have to be super cognizant of new lumps. Yup, scary.]
He asked if there was anything else. I mentioned this new calf pain that started today. He asked me to raise my pant leg and began feeling and positioning my foot while asking, "Does that hurt?"
Other than a 'sore muscle' sensation - no it didn't hurt. He said, "If you had DVT, you would be in much more pain." I'll monitor this. It's tough being super sensitive - because you have to.
Dr. Mehta said, "At this point, your labs are all good, your marrow is producing, you didn't need a boost. So I'll see you in 6 months. No labs are required. However, if your tolerance to Tamoxifen changes or side effects manifest (or worsen), please make an appointment."
I thanked him and said Happy Thanksgiving and he responded with, "Happy Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and all the others. I'll see you in 6."
One chapter placed on hiatus. Reconstruction continues, then on the Triple A. Will cataract surgery jump the line? We'll see.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Follow-up with Dr. Chatson
Had to deal with a lovely commute for an early appointment with Dr. Chatson. Even with back roads it still took me 45 minutes to go 10 miles. I'm certainly not missing my 2 - 3 hour commutes to Boston.
Since my surgery Monday, I've been encased in a compression vest. I once again had the drain, although this time there was no drama. I feel sore but mostly tired. It seems that I can't get more than 2 hours of sleep without waking from discomfort (back and neck). I sooo want to be able to turn onto my side and just stretch things. Well it's not in the cards yet. This morning I was waking up every 15 to 20 minutes. I decided to get up at 3 AM and sit in a chair. I think I slept for a few hours, but there is a cost - my arms and/or leg fall asleep. [Pins and needles - hate it]
I was able to address the areas of velcro on the compression vest that felt like they are digging into me by strategically placing folded tissue. Not the best solution, but it definitely helped.
Upon my arrival at Dr. Chatson's office I was greeted by the physician's assistant who took me into the examination room right away. Once seated on the examination table, the compression vest came off and she began removing the dressing. Because the output of my drain had diminished to less than 10 cc's a day, she decided to take it out. The removal wasn't half as bad as the last time. She indicated that I was given a smaller drain and it hadn't been in too long. Whatever the explanation it was gone! She told me that the doctor would be right in.
Dr. Chatson came in shortly after. He looked at the areas and said he was pleased with the results. He asked that I wait another day before showering and try to wear the vest until Monday. There was no need for new dressings and he indicated that the sutures would be removed next Wednesday. He did say that I should continue to 'take it easy' and don't do anything strenuous, he gave an example, raking leaves.
When I got home I took a look at the 'work' and could see the potential (once healed). I decided to put on a tee shirt before zipping into the compression vest. Now no need for tissues.
So far I've only had to take one pain pill. I'm happy to report that my 'regularity' has returned. Now if I can get some 'good' sleep I'll be even happier.
More to come.
Since my surgery Monday, I've been encased in a compression vest. I once again had the drain, although this time there was no drama. I feel sore but mostly tired. It seems that I can't get more than 2 hours of sleep without waking from discomfort (back and neck). I sooo want to be able to turn onto my side and just stretch things. Well it's not in the cards yet. This morning I was waking up every 15 to 20 minutes. I decided to get up at 3 AM and sit in a chair. I think I slept for a few hours, but there is a cost - my arms and/or leg fall asleep. [Pins and needles - hate it]
I was able to address the areas of velcro on the compression vest that felt like they are digging into me by strategically placing folded tissue. Not the best solution, but it definitely helped.
Upon my arrival at Dr. Chatson's office I was greeted by the physician's assistant who took me into the examination room right away. Once seated on the examination table, the compression vest came off and she began removing the dressing. Because the output of my drain had diminished to less than 10 cc's a day, she decided to take it out. The removal wasn't half as bad as the last time. She indicated that I was given a smaller drain and it hadn't been in too long. Whatever the explanation it was gone! She told me that the doctor would be right in.
Dr. Chatson came in shortly after. He looked at the areas and said he was pleased with the results. He asked that I wait another day before showering and try to wear the vest until Monday. There was no need for new dressings and he indicated that the sutures would be removed next Wednesday. He did say that I should continue to 'take it easy' and don't do anything strenuous, he gave an example, raking leaves.
When I got home I took a look at the 'work' and could see the potential (once healed). I decided to put on a tee shirt before zipping into the compression vest. Now no need for tissues.
So far I've only had to take one pain pill. I'm happy to report that my 'regularity' has returned. Now if I can get some 'good' sleep I'll be even happier.
More to come.
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Day of Surgery
Well I made it through surgery.
I was the first to arrive at Holy Family at the day surgery unit, and when I say first, I was but there were no staff. Why they told me to get there at 6 and not be called until 7:10 is beyond me [but par for the course].
When called into the unit, I was greeted by Carmilla who led the way to my 'home base'. I'm thankful that someone was paying attention to details, because the bed was ready and the extender (to accommodate my height), was in place. I was instructed to strip down and don the lovely johnnie laid out on the bed. After completing that task, there was a steady stream of health professionals and doctors stopping by to review/update my chart. Their motus operandi was fairly consistent . Each asked me to verify my credentials then followed up by asking pretty much the same line of questions. [ I guess I passed, since all my answers where consistent. At one point there was a general feeling that I was staying overnight. There may have been some confusion as to what was actually going to be done to me today. Someone interrupted one of the many visits and proclaimed (in their hospital/medical speak) that I was having breast construction, breast reduction and fat grafting. I heard a collective sigh of 'oh, now we know'. I guess it all started when I was asked, what I'm in for today? My answer didn't jibe with their cheat sheets, so had to acknowledge (not trust) and verify. I'm was relieved to know everyone was on the same page (no pun intended).
During this in and out period, they managed to do an EKG and check my vitals a number of times. Getting closer to the time for my procedure, Nurse Tammy stopped by to insert my sent for the IV. Since my left arm was christened with a pink wrist band that read, "Restricted Extremity", Tammy was forced to use my right. My four sessions of chemo had done a number on my veins and she was searching for a 'good' one. It looked like the only one that could be used was near my wrist on the upper side of my hand. Not having lots of tissue in the area, she asked my permission to use it, which I granted. I asked what she would do if I declined. "I'd have to use your foot", she said. I said, "Go right a head and use the hand. Yes it was a bit more painful, but a necessity.
Not too long after, Dr. Chatson arrived and after an exchange of pleasantries, he said, "So this is your day." He reviewed what he was planing on doing for this surgery (first of two) then asked me to stand so he could visually inspect the areas and place marks on me using a sharpie. I got re-dressed and was just getting into bed, when explained that we had to fit the compression vest. Apologetically, he asked me to stand again. The vest is one size fits most and has many panels of velcro (thus making it a universal piece). It was tight, but that was to be expected. He adjusted in certain places and had the nurse help him remove it. It will be placed on me just prior to my leaving that afternoon.
Dr. Chatson said, "I'll see you in there", smiled and left. Shortly after, a few nurses and the anesthesiologist arrived to wheel me in. After being moved to the operating table it seemed like minutes before I was asked to breath deeply - I was out.
I vaguely remember hearing someone calling my name and asking how I was doing. Still groggy, I was in a degree of pain and asked for pain meds. Those started working but the pain was still kind of high. The nurse gave me more, then I was comfortably numb - and tired. Every time I'd just sink into a deep slumber the low oxygen level alarm would sound. Each time this happened, my tubes were checked/arranged and finally they placed a 'reader' to my forehead. I tried dozing off, but the alarm was persistent. So I decided to concentrate on my waking up and becoming lucid.
Eventually I was wheeled back to my home base. I was offered crackers and fluids, which I nibbled on. The pain as this point seemed to be more of an aggravation that pain - the meds were working.
A call was placed to my transportation and the vest was brought out. All signs that I'm, going home.
The vest was snug, but I was able to tolerate it. I was able to dress then visit the facilities then I received notice that my ride was there. After hoping into a wheel chair I was officially discharged at the curb.
Still groggy and loopy, I was looking forward to sitting in my favorite chair and recuperate. The compression vest was beginning to feel uncomfortable in certain areas (but not the surgical areas). I have that lovely drain which I need to empty and record output three times daily. Just from the time I got home until bedtime, I had 50cc (total) of bloodied fluid. While draining, I was able to 'poke around' to determine that the source of my vest discomfort was the velcro potions touching my skin. I managed to place some tissues near the aggravated spots, which helped somewhat. [I now have a better appreciation for woman who have to deal with uncomfortable bras.]
Last night I mostly channel surfed and watched the Voice (that I had to rewind a few times because I dozed off]. I was able to have a light supper and ended up going to bed around 11. Sleeping was tough. I can't turn or lie on either side, so I could only have 2 hours of sleep before having to wake up. I did finally take a half pill of the pain meds - then another half later in the night.
More to come.
I was the first to arrive at Holy Family at the day surgery unit, and when I say first, I was but there were no staff. Why they told me to get there at 6 and not be called until 7:10 is beyond me [but par for the course].
When called into the unit, I was greeted by Carmilla who led the way to my 'home base'. I'm thankful that someone was paying attention to details, because the bed was ready and the extender (to accommodate my height), was in place. I was instructed to strip down and don the lovely johnnie laid out on the bed. After completing that task, there was a steady stream of health professionals and doctors stopping by to review/update my chart. Their motus operandi was fairly consistent . Each asked me to verify my credentials then followed up by asking pretty much the same line of questions. [ I guess I passed, since all my answers where consistent. At one point there was a general feeling that I was staying overnight. There may have been some confusion as to what was actually going to be done to me today. Someone interrupted one of the many visits and proclaimed (in their hospital/medical speak) that I was having breast construction, breast reduction and fat grafting. I heard a collective sigh of 'oh, now we know'. I guess it all started when I was asked, what I'm in for today? My answer didn't jibe with their cheat sheets, so had to acknowledge (not trust) and verify. I'm was relieved to know everyone was on the same page (no pun intended).
During this in and out period, they managed to do an EKG and check my vitals a number of times. Getting closer to the time for my procedure, Nurse Tammy stopped by to insert my sent for the IV. Since my left arm was christened with a pink wrist band that read, "Restricted Extremity", Tammy was forced to use my right. My four sessions of chemo had done a number on my veins and she was searching for a 'good' one. It looked like the only one that could be used was near my wrist on the upper side of my hand. Not having lots of tissue in the area, she asked my permission to use it, which I granted. I asked what she would do if I declined. "I'd have to use your foot", she said. I said, "Go right a head and use the hand. Yes it was a bit more painful, but a necessity.
Not too long after, Dr. Chatson arrived and after an exchange of pleasantries, he said, "So this is your day." He reviewed what he was planing on doing for this surgery (first of two) then asked me to stand so he could visually inspect the areas and place marks on me using a sharpie. I got re-dressed and was just getting into bed, when explained that we had to fit the compression vest. Apologetically, he asked me to stand again. The vest is one size fits most and has many panels of velcro (thus making it a universal piece). It was tight, but that was to be expected. He adjusted in certain places and had the nurse help him remove it. It will be placed on me just prior to my leaving that afternoon.
Dr. Chatson said, "I'll see you in there", smiled and left. Shortly after, a few nurses and the anesthesiologist arrived to wheel me in. After being moved to the operating table it seemed like minutes before I was asked to breath deeply - I was out.
I vaguely remember hearing someone calling my name and asking how I was doing. Still groggy, I was in a degree of pain and asked for pain meds. Those started working but the pain was still kind of high. The nurse gave me more, then I was comfortably numb - and tired. Every time I'd just sink into a deep slumber the low oxygen level alarm would sound. Each time this happened, my tubes were checked/arranged and finally they placed a 'reader' to my forehead. I tried dozing off, but the alarm was persistent. So I decided to concentrate on my waking up and becoming lucid.
Eventually I was wheeled back to my home base. I was offered crackers and fluids, which I nibbled on. The pain as this point seemed to be more of an aggravation that pain - the meds were working.
A call was placed to my transportation and the vest was brought out. All signs that I'm, going home.
The vest was snug, but I was able to tolerate it. I was able to dress then visit the facilities then I received notice that my ride was there. After hoping into a wheel chair I was officially discharged at the curb.
Still groggy and loopy, I was looking forward to sitting in my favorite chair and recuperate. The compression vest was beginning to feel uncomfortable in certain areas (but not the surgical areas). I have that lovely drain which I need to empty and record output three times daily. Just from the time I got home until bedtime, I had 50cc (total) of bloodied fluid. While draining, I was able to 'poke around' to determine that the source of my vest discomfort was the velcro potions touching my skin. I managed to place some tissues near the aggravated spots, which helped somewhat. [I now have a better appreciation for woman who have to deal with uncomfortable bras.]
Last night I mostly channel surfed and watched the Voice (that I had to rewind a few times because I dozed off]. I was able to have a light supper and ended up going to bed around 11. Sleeping was tough. I can't turn or lie on either side, so I could only have 2 hours of sleep before having to wake up. I did finally take a half pill of the pain meds - then another half later in the night.
More to come.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Ready for the next chapter
All systems are go for tomorrow's first of two surgeries for the reconstruction. I'd be lying if I didn't say I am a bit apprehensive. After having months of 'good days' peppered with some continuous aggravations (pains related to getting back into things; dealing with declining vision, etc.), I'm not looking forward to having new pains and having limits on what I can do. It is what it is. I'll have to deal with - 'whatever' - as it arises. I'm telling myself that this too will pass and be a fading memory much like my cancer surgeries and subsequent chemotherapy. But I have to get through it first.
I do have some concerns. These procedures will be affecting my upper torso (waist to breasts - even though I currently have just one breast). During my recuperation from my last surgeries, I recall not being able to lie on my side while sleeping. Granted I had my other side to use, but it just wasn't the same for the 'side sleeper' that I am. Questions that I have (and will be answered in time):
I'm also concerned that this 'step back' will affect my recent musical proliferation. Given my flexibility to follow my muse at any time of the day, I've managed to write a dozen songs since September. Yes, I'm channeling the challenges of the Spring and Summer into something positive. I've been producing a menagerie of eclectic music, from dark and brooding; manic and dissonant to soft and uplifting. I'm pleased with the output, but fearful that the creativity could once again be blocked if I'm distracted by this latest chapter. Hopefully it will provide even more fodder and inspiration for another dozen - or more.
I won't be out in the clear just yet. I still have my abdominal aeortic aneurysm (Triple A) to address. I'm also monitoring the effects of the cataracts that seem to be progressing in my right eye. Oy - it's always something.
So I'll be enjoying my last day by doing some 'seasonal' chores that require some physical exertion (the fallen leaves - for joy). Until my next post, thanks for reading and of course thanks for the support.
I do have some concerns. These procedures will be affecting my upper torso (waist to breasts - even though I currently have just one breast). During my recuperation from my last surgeries, I recall not being able to lie on my side while sleeping. Granted I had my other side to use, but it just wasn't the same for the 'side sleeper' that I am. Questions that I have (and will be answered in time):
- How am I to sleep and get the needed rest for recuperation?
- Will I need to sleep sitting up in a chair?
- What will happen if I sneeze?
- What if it snows - will I be able to do any light shoveling?
I'm also concerned that this 'step back' will affect my recent musical proliferation. Given my flexibility to follow my muse at any time of the day, I've managed to write a dozen songs since September. Yes, I'm channeling the challenges of the Spring and Summer into something positive. I've been producing a menagerie of eclectic music, from dark and brooding; manic and dissonant to soft and uplifting. I'm pleased with the output, but fearful that the creativity could once again be blocked if I'm distracted by this latest chapter. Hopefully it will provide even more fodder and inspiration for another dozen - or more.
I won't be out in the clear just yet. I still have my abdominal aeortic aneurysm (Triple A) to address. I'm also monitoring the effects of the cataracts that seem to be progressing in my right eye. Oy - it's always something.
So I'll be enjoying my last day by doing some 'seasonal' chores that require some physical exertion (the fallen leaves - for joy). Until my next post, thanks for reading and of course thanks for the support.
Monday, November 2, 2015
Happy November - already?
2015 has certainly been flying by. For me, I'm sure this "tempus fugit" is exasperated by my battle with cancer and its after effects. However, I'm enjoying this brief respite, taking in the change of seasons (again), getting back to the new normal and enjoying retirement.
Halloween has come and gone and I've enjoyed that as well as I could considering everything. I really owe it to myself to make next Halloween the best. I have one more week before my next chapter begins - the reconstruction. [I hope I don't have to deal with any carpet-baggers.]
I continue to have 'good' days and I've regained most of my stamina. I'm working on getting my voice back into shape and have spent much time honing my chops on the guitar. I am spending more time playing the keyboard and trying to get that 'back' again. All things in time.
The only noticeable health issue has been my vision. Early September, the eye doctor said I had the beginnings of cataracts (more pronounced in my right eye). I was given a prescription for corrective lenses (for use while driving). I don't drive as much now, but when I do, I have noticed some improvement, especially at night. However, I'm more cognizant of the blurriness in my right eye. At times, when covering my left (good) eye I can't see portions of my field of vision in my right eye. But, when I use both eyes (and don't think about it) I see clearly. My left eye is compensating.
I have a follow-up with my oncologist, Dr. Mehta, at the end of November. I'll monitor this progress and discuss the possibilities of it being caused or hastening the progression of the deterioration.
Halloween has come and gone and I've enjoyed that as well as I could considering everything. I really owe it to myself to make next Halloween the best. I have one more week before my next chapter begins - the reconstruction. [I hope I don't have to deal with any carpet-baggers.]
I continue to have 'good' days and I've regained most of my stamina. I'm working on getting my voice back into shape and have spent much time honing my chops on the guitar. I am spending more time playing the keyboard and trying to get that 'back' again. All things in time.
The only noticeable health issue has been my vision. Early September, the eye doctor said I had the beginnings of cataracts (more pronounced in my right eye). I was given a prescription for corrective lenses (for use while driving). I don't drive as much now, but when I do, I have noticed some improvement, especially at night. However, I'm more cognizant of the blurriness in my right eye. At times, when covering my left (good) eye I can't see portions of my field of vision in my right eye. But, when I use both eyes (and don't think about it) I see clearly. My left eye is compensating.
I have a follow-up with my oncologist, Dr. Mehta, at the end of November. I'll monitor this progress and discuss the possibilities of it being caused or hastening the progression of the deterioration.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
THIS doesn't sound like fun
Warning: If you get grossed out by knowing how the sausage is made, you may want to skip a portion of this blog. I'll alert you when you can exercise your skip-ahead option.
I had my pre-op appointment with Dr. Chatson today to discuss the details of my two-part reconstruction surgery. I was the first patient of the day so there was no wait. The medical professional (Physician's Assistant), took my vitals and began providing a reader's digest version of what to expect for the first surgery. As the words I heard became mental images, I'm sure some of what I was hearing caused my blood pressure reading to be higher than normal.
[I'm also pretty sure that the 45 minutes it took to drive 10 miles - commute was also a factor. I'm out of practice for driving during the morning 'rush' albeit, local.]
Confessing that she should have refrained from the preview of coming attractions until the doctor arrived (or at least until she finished her readings), I was told that Dr. Chatson would be right in.
As promised, Dr. Chatson was right in. [Almost as if he had been waiting for his cue.] He told me that the insurance company confirmed that this procedure was covered. He showed me that special 'pass go' authorization number that's treated like gold. So I was told, in a month's time, I'm expected to arrive at Holy Family, at the crack of dawn mind you, for my day-surgery. I will need to have fasted from the previous night and I am not allowed to drive myself home. I've secured my ride to, and from for that day.
[Skip-ahead option here if you are squeamish]
The first surgery will consist of many moving parts:
- Reduction of my (healthy) right breast. This entails removal of some skin around the aureole and liposuction of 'fatty' areas extending toward the arm pit. Depending on the end result (concavity), a fat graft will be performed to create a 'standard-looking' male breast.
- Re-opening the surgical area of my mastectomy to remove scarring tissue and prepare for 'doctor-created' faux nipple. The actual setting of the nipple will be performed during the second surgery after the healing period of about 3-4 weeks. Depending...
- Liposuction of the 'fatty' areas around the mastectomy area extending toward the armpit (to create symmetry).
- Incision of my tummy area (similar to a tummy tuck) for the harvesting of fat for the graft and skin for the new aureole and nipple. [Not certain if this is just to identify the area for harvesting of if the skin is removed at this time. While explaining this, the doctor said that 'the course of things sometimes change once we get in there.']
[Resume reading here]
After the conclusion of my first surgery, I was informed that I will most likely have a drain. [GRRRR]. I'll also have to wear a compression vest. From the description, this zippered device is worn (for some time) to assist with the healing.
[I had visions of tin foil holding together a burrito to make it rounded and easier to consume.]
I'm not allowed to bathe until the drain is removed. [Been there. Done that. Not a fan.] I will have a few follow-ups (a week apart). I was concerned with Thanksgiving. He said that he was seeing patients the day before, in the morning.
Although all the above is necessary, I'm certainly not looking forward to it. I was given a script for pain meds (which I hate and hope I can do without). However, unlike my mastectomy (and subsequent surgery), this procedure will affect more geography on my body. Especially areas that 'move' (like the waist). Ya, this ain't gonna be fun.
Until the time comes, I'm enjoying having better days health-wise and getting back to generally feeling good. I truly hope that Mother Nature cooperates and holds off on the white stuff until much later in the season (but nothing like last year - please).
Thanks for reading and of course, your support!
I had my pre-op appointment with Dr. Chatson today to discuss the details of my two-part reconstruction surgery. I was the first patient of the day so there was no wait. The medical professional (Physician's Assistant), took my vitals and began providing a reader's digest version of what to expect for the first surgery. As the words I heard became mental images, I'm sure some of what I was hearing caused my blood pressure reading to be higher than normal.
[I'm also pretty sure that the 45 minutes it took to drive 10 miles - commute was also a factor. I'm out of practice for driving during the morning 'rush' albeit, local.]
Confessing that she should have refrained from the preview of coming attractions until the doctor arrived (or at least until she finished her readings), I was told that Dr. Chatson would be right in.
As promised, Dr. Chatson was right in. [Almost as if he had been waiting for his cue.] He told me that the insurance company confirmed that this procedure was covered. He showed me that special 'pass go' authorization number that's treated like gold. So I was told, in a month's time, I'm expected to arrive at Holy Family, at the crack of dawn mind you, for my day-surgery. I will need to have fasted from the previous night and I am not allowed to drive myself home. I've secured my ride to, and from for that day.
[Skip-ahead option here if you are squeamish]
The first surgery will consist of many moving parts:
- Reduction of my (healthy) right breast. This entails removal of some skin around the aureole and liposuction of 'fatty' areas extending toward the arm pit. Depending on the end result (concavity), a fat graft will be performed to create a 'standard-looking' male breast.
- Re-opening the surgical area of my mastectomy to remove scarring tissue and prepare for 'doctor-created' faux nipple. The actual setting of the nipple will be performed during the second surgery after the healing period of about 3-4 weeks. Depending...
- Liposuction of the 'fatty' areas around the mastectomy area extending toward the armpit (to create symmetry).
- Incision of my tummy area (similar to a tummy tuck) for the harvesting of fat for the graft and skin for the new aureole and nipple. [Not certain if this is just to identify the area for harvesting of if the skin is removed at this time. While explaining this, the doctor said that 'the course of things sometimes change once we get in there.']
[Resume reading here]
After the conclusion of my first surgery, I was informed that I will most likely have a drain. [GRRRR]. I'll also have to wear a compression vest. From the description, this zippered device is worn (for some time) to assist with the healing.
[I had visions of tin foil holding together a burrito to make it rounded and easier to consume.]
I'm not allowed to bathe until the drain is removed. [Been there. Done that. Not a fan.] I will have a few follow-ups (a week apart). I was concerned with Thanksgiving. He said that he was seeing patients the day before, in the morning.
Although all the above is necessary, I'm certainly not looking forward to it. I was given a script for pain meds (which I hate and hope I can do without). However, unlike my mastectomy (and subsequent surgery), this procedure will affect more geography on my body. Especially areas that 'move' (like the waist). Ya, this ain't gonna be fun.
Until the time comes, I'm enjoying having better days health-wise and getting back to generally feeling good. I truly hope that Mother Nature cooperates and holds off on the white stuff until much later in the season (but nothing like last year - please).
Thanks for reading and of course, your support!
Friday, October 9, 2015
Progress Report
I'm very pleased, although I know there is more to come, but I've actually felt 'good' for an extended period of time (days). I've continued my walks with much less recovery time needed after completing my 3 - 6 mile jaunts. It's been nice to see the season morph before my eyes (albeit slowly). The foliage is beginning to change, but as predicted, the vibrancy just isn't there ... yet.
I've taken on some of my procrastinations:
I've continued my regimen of musical and vocal practice and have been fruitful in writing a few tunes. Unfortunately, some batteries I left in my digital recorder decided to leak so badly that they won't come out of the compartment. I ordered a replacement online and when it arrives I hope to be able capture some of this lightening in a bottle so I can refine my ideas into finished product. In the interim, I'm creating musical charts so I can begin to work on melody and lyrics.
Speaking of leaking batteries, my digital camera fell to the same fate. During the lunar eclipse I thought that the camera would do a better job than my phone at capturing this historic event. Upon my attempt to power it up, it was dead. Checking the batteries I was greeted with corrosion. They say things come in threes. I can't wait to see what else is ruined. [NOT]
I'm behind on my Halloween acquisitions. Generally it's a constant 'keep an eye out' ordeal (no pun intended). But my focus on health issues has moved that to the back seat. It's not like I don't have enough already. But, it's so hard to wear last year's stuff again. I did pick up a few things, so maybe I'll need to get creative. After all, I still have (basically) no hair. So I could work a bald head into something. We'll see. Nosferatu perhaps?
Last weekend I was able to catch the Fitch's Brew band in Lowell. It was nice to see so many familiar faces (friends and musicians). It was a little weird for me at times though, because I knew the songs and arrangements. This is the band I left in February when I found out about my cancer. I had a great time. They sounded awesome.
Miscellaneous stuff
My hair is beginning to come back. I decided to grow some facial hair (Van Dyke). It's coming in much faster than the hair on my head. So I'm going for it.
I received a call the other evening (close to 9) from Dr. Mehta. He was calling to check in on me and my vision issues. If you recall, almost two months ago I left a message with his office to report that I was having changes in my vision. I never heard back. But, I had scheduled an appointment with the eye doctor which subsequently revealed my having cataracts.
Dr. Mehta said that he would be surprised to have this side effect from Tamoxifen so soon, but he was concerned and asked that I monitor this. I told him that I was in agreement with him. I added that the eye doctor said that I probably had (the beginnings) for close to a year. This is well before my dealings with cancer or my taking Tamoxifen. Probably my super-sensitivity to my body could have drawn attention to this existing condition.
I have my pre-op for reconstruction scheduled for next week. I'm certain that appointment will prompt a blog update. Until then, have a pleasant Columbus Day weekend and thanks for reading.
I've taken on some of my procrastinations:
- I finally went to BJ's to get my eye glass prescription filled. I guess that waiting did have its advantages since a 60% sale was taking place. I saved a bundle and it wasn't with Progressive or Geico. [Bad pun]
- It was also time for my 10 K check up for the car and it was nice to be able to do it during the week versus a Saturday morning. Although I did spend almost two hours at the dealership watching Annie (the movie). I munched on butter cookies and had lots of free coffee.
- The torrential rains of last week turned the lawn green again, so I mowed it. No problems with energy or stamina this time. [Yay!]
- I finally decided to have work performed on one of my guitars. It needs two new potentiometers, switch, nut, bridge and saddle. The neck is out of alignment also. It's time.
I've continued my regimen of musical and vocal practice and have been fruitful in writing a few tunes. Unfortunately, some batteries I left in my digital recorder decided to leak so badly that they won't come out of the compartment. I ordered a replacement online and when it arrives I hope to be able capture some of this lightening in a bottle so I can refine my ideas into finished product. In the interim, I'm creating musical charts so I can begin to work on melody and lyrics.
Speaking of leaking batteries, my digital camera fell to the same fate. During the lunar eclipse I thought that the camera would do a better job than my phone at capturing this historic event. Upon my attempt to power it up, it was dead. Checking the batteries I was greeted with corrosion. They say things come in threes. I can't wait to see what else is ruined. [NOT]
I'm behind on my Halloween acquisitions. Generally it's a constant 'keep an eye out' ordeal (no pun intended). But my focus on health issues has moved that to the back seat. It's not like I don't have enough already. But, it's so hard to wear last year's stuff again. I did pick up a few things, so maybe I'll need to get creative. After all, I still have (basically) no hair. So I could work a bald head into something. We'll see. Nosferatu perhaps?
Last weekend I was able to catch the Fitch's Brew band in Lowell. It was nice to see so many familiar faces (friends and musicians). It was a little weird for me at times though, because I knew the songs and arrangements. This is the band I left in February when I found out about my cancer. I had a great time. They sounded awesome.
Miscellaneous stuff
My hair is beginning to come back. I decided to grow some facial hair (Van Dyke). It's coming in much faster than the hair on my head. So I'm going for it.
I received a call the other evening (close to 9) from Dr. Mehta. He was calling to check in on me and my vision issues. If you recall, almost two months ago I left a message with his office to report that I was having changes in my vision. I never heard back. But, I had scheduled an appointment with the eye doctor which subsequently revealed my having cataracts.
Dr. Mehta said that he would be surprised to have this side effect from Tamoxifen so soon, but he was concerned and asked that I monitor this. I told him that I was in agreement with him. I added that the eye doctor said that I probably had (the beginnings) for close to a year. This is well before my dealings with cancer or my taking Tamoxifen. Probably my super-sensitivity to my body could have drawn attention to this existing condition.
I have my pre-op for reconstruction scheduled for next week. I'm certain that appointment will prompt a blog update. Until then, have a pleasant Columbus Day weekend and thanks for reading.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
A new month - more work to do and new challenges ahead
Last week there was virtually no foliage color. Any color that manifested was basically muted and lacked the vibrancy of previous Fall displays. It was said that drought conditions and extended occurrences of 'warmer than average' temperatures would render this year's offering as less than spectacular.
What happened? We had a lunar eclipse - a blood super moon nonetheless. Not sure if Facebook status updates or moon shots brought down FB the day following, but things were changing. Almost over night color emerged. Technically late, but there have been some pockets of vibrancy. We also had a real drenching (3 inches of rain in my part of the world). Those that had to drive in it had their own challenges. [Not missing the commute.] But this too may just be a harbinger of even more rain. Depending on who you watch (or hear), Joaquin could wreak much havoc. [Let's hope it blows out to sea.] We'll just have to wait and see - but be prepared.
Taking advantage of seasonal weather, I've been walking (still). The lower 'GI' thing I was experiencing seemed to have corrected itself, but the pains in my back (flank) have persisted. It doesn't seem to bother me while doing exercises, or while walking, but certain movements will bring a stabbing pain. I can't seem to locate or pinpoint where it is coming from, but it does happen when I decide to 'bust a move' when a good beat is played on the radio. Maybe I need to dance more.
My hair is growing back and my head looks fuzzy - but white still. The beard needs daily care - again, although I'm thinking of growing something. [This may change as I look scruffier.] I'm still experiencing some sloughing in my mouth and my lips feel weird. Not chapped, but feel like they are beginning to be, so I've been using lip balm. I've re-read the side effects of Tamoxifen again and this is not noted, so I attribute this as my body's way of recuperating. I'll monitor and report to my doctor if needed. But once again, my heightened sense of body awareness borders on hypochondria at times.
Musically I've been playing guitar and keyboards daily (for longer periods of time). I tried singing full voice the other day and became hoarse. Too much too soon. After a rest, I'll need to return to vocal exercises before trying to go full force.
I have a pre-op appointment scheduled for mid month for my reconstructive surgery. If all goes according to plans, I'll be having my first surgery mid November. I'm hopeful that it will not interfere with Thanksgiving festivities, but it is what it is. In the interim I'll be enjoying my second favorite season (Spring is first) and looking for all things Halloween - my favorite holiday. I will need to reign in my ramp-up to the holiday so I can focus on long-term activities related to health.
Happy October!
What happened? We had a lunar eclipse - a blood super moon nonetheless. Not sure if Facebook status updates or moon shots brought down FB the day following, but things were changing. Almost over night color emerged. Technically late, but there have been some pockets of vibrancy. We also had a real drenching (3 inches of rain in my part of the world). Those that had to drive in it had their own challenges. [Not missing the commute.] But this too may just be a harbinger of even more rain. Depending on who you watch (or hear), Joaquin could wreak much havoc. [Let's hope it blows out to sea.] We'll just have to wait and see - but be prepared.
Taking advantage of seasonal weather, I've been walking (still). The lower 'GI' thing I was experiencing seemed to have corrected itself, but the pains in my back (flank) have persisted. It doesn't seem to bother me while doing exercises, or while walking, but certain movements will bring a stabbing pain. I can't seem to locate or pinpoint where it is coming from, but it does happen when I decide to 'bust a move' when a good beat is played on the radio. Maybe I need to dance more.
My hair is growing back and my head looks fuzzy - but white still. The beard needs daily care - again, although I'm thinking of growing something. [This may change as I look scruffier.] I'm still experiencing some sloughing in my mouth and my lips feel weird. Not chapped, but feel like they are beginning to be, so I've been using lip balm. I've re-read the side effects of Tamoxifen again and this is not noted, so I attribute this as my body's way of recuperating. I'll monitor and report to my doctor if needed. But once again, my heightened sense of body awareness borders on hypochondria at times.
Musically I've been playing guitar and keyboards daily (for longer periods of time). I tried singing full voice the other day and became hoarse. Too much too soon. After a rest, I'll need to return to vocal exercises before trying to go full force.
I have a pre-op appointment scheduled for mid month for my reconstructive surgery. If all goes according to plans, I'll be having my first surgery mid November. I'm hopeful that it will not interfere with Thanksgiving festivities, but it is what it is. In the interim I'll be enjoying my second favorite season (Spring is first) and looking for all things Halloween - my favorite holiday. I will need to reign in my ramp-up to the holiday so I can focus on long-term activities related to health.
Happy October!
Friday, September 25, 2015
Feeling stronger everyday
Since my last post, I've been trying to reinstate my daily regimen of exercise and walking to increase my energy level and stamina. Initially this renewed effort caused me to have 'bad days' as my body tried to recuperate. However, those 'bad days' seem to be few and far between.
The change in the weather has been conducive to my walking. Some days I walk about six miles, but overall I average about 3-4 miles a day. I make sure my route is varied and contains a good amount of 'up-hill' walking. I did venture to walk around Round Pond (a local name - but the official name is Pentucket Lake). After making it half-way across, I took a breather and sat on a park bench. Maybe a bad idea (or at least a lesson learned), but I didn't know if I had the energy to continue and head home. Luckily, I was able to 'walk through it'. This tells me that I still have a way to go.
I've been playing the guitar daily (a few hours here and there), but I still get tired of standing after about a half hour. I do sit and continue playing though. I'm very pleased with my progress of getting my chops back and am thrilled that the neuropathy in my thumb and forefinger has nearly dissipated. [Just one lingering spot on my finger, but the more I play, the better it gets.] Unfortunately, I haven't been concentrating on vocal exercises. However, I plan to work that into my daily routine.
I still have some food aversions. My diet has changed from before the start of this ordeal. But I was encouraged the other day when I had a huge craving for freshly cut peppers, broccoli and tomatoes with vegetable dip. So good. Hopefully I can work my way back to my daily salad. I still can't even stomach the thought of oranges. And those that know me are aware of my propensity to always have these vitamin C orbs as an ever-available staple. Maybe soon. I'd rather have liquid vitamin C versus the tablet.
For every action there is a consequence. I'm hoping that my increase in exercise is the cause of some new aches and pains in my back and flanks. Also, my shift in diet (again) may be causing some lower GI 'disturbances'. I truly hope that neither are related. It's tough having to be super-sensative to your body and have these 'things' crop up. Until then I'll need to follow the rule of thumb and hope it goes away in a week (or two) before bringing it to the attention of my physician(s).
My hair has begun to grow. I can feel a serious 5 o'clock shadow on my head, but it's still white so it's had to see - so I'm still looking like Kojak. I'm noticing that my beard needs shaving more often (more than every 3-4 days).
So I am doing better and I'll continue to push myself.
Thanks to all for your support and readership. More to come.
The change in the weather has been conducive to my walking. Some days I walk about six miles, but overall I average about 3-4 miles a day. I make sure my route is varied and contains a good amount of 'up-hill' walking. I did venture to walk around Round Pond (a local name - but the official name is Pentucket Lake). After making it half-way across, I took a breather and sat on a park bench. Maybe a bad idea (or at least a lesson learned), but I didn't know if I had the energy to continue and head home. Luckily, I was able to 'walk through it'. This tells me that I still have a way to go.
I've been playing the guitar daily (a few hours here and there), but I still get tired of standing after about a half hour. I do sit and continue playing though. I'm very pleased with my progress of getting my chops back and am thrilled that the neuropathy in my thumb and forefinger has nearly dissipated. [Just one lingering spot on my finger, but the more I play, the better it gets.] Unfortunately, I haven't been concentrating on vocal exercises. However, I plan to work that into my daily routine.
I still have some food aversions. My diet has changed from before the start of this ordeal. But I was encouraged the other day when I had a huge craving for freshly cut peppers, broccoli and tomatoes with vegetable dip. So good. Hopefully I can work my way back to my daily salad. I still can't even stomach the thought of oranges. And those that know me are aware of my propensity to always have these vitamin C orbs as an ever-available staple. Maybe soon. I'd rather have liquid vitamin C versus the tablet.
For every action there is a consequence. I'm hoping that my increase in exercise is the cause of some new aches and pains in my back and flanks. Also, my shift in diet (again) may be causing some lower GI 'disturbances'. I truly hope that neither are related. It's tough having to be super-sensative to your body and have these 'things' crop up. Until then I'll need to follow the rule of thumb and hope it goes away in a week (or two) before bringing it to the attention of my physician(s).
My hair has begun to grow. I can feel a serious 5 o'clock shadow on my head, but it's still white so it's had to see - so I'm still looking like Kojak. I'm noticing that my beard needs shaving more often (more than every 3-4 days).
So I am doing better and I'll continue to push myself.
Thanks to all for your support and readership. More to come.
Monday, September 14, 2015
Sore, but getting there
I've been working on raising my energy level and increasing my stamina to where I feel I can accomplish a physical task without having to have to sit and catch up. I've begun doing my daily exercises and am working toward my being able to take long walks.
To prepare, I've been walking up and down the cellar stairs for 10 sets a day. The daily routine I had for morning exercises, at first made me very sore. I'm so tight. A routine previously flown through before going to work seems to take longer than I anticipated. But I' m getting through it. Initially I thought that the tamoxifen was causing blood clots because I was having pains in my calves. But further research on clots and DVT (deep vein thrombosis) ruled that out. I'm just sore.
Today I ventured out on a small hike to the mailbox and ended up walking about a mile. That last stretch was bit taxing, but the weather was conducive to walking so I soldiered on. I'll see what muscles scream tomorrow.
I've also been playing the guitar more and for longer periods, but my back is still getting tired. I'm hoping that more walking will help that set of muscles. My calluses are getting back into shape and the numbness in my thumb and forefinger (although still present), seems to be getting 'better'. From time to time I get pains in areas previously numb (surgical area too) but I think the nerves are growing back. I'm getting more sensation.
I'm still a cue ball and still only shave every few days, but I am beginning to get stubble on my head. I don't see any color other than white. But it's still early.
More steps forward and fewer steps backwards for a change.
Thanks for reading. More to come.
To prepare, I've been walking up and down the cellar stairs for 10 sets a day. The daily routine I had for morning exercises, at first made me very sore. I'm so tight. A routine previously flown through before going to work seems to take longer than I anticipated. But I' m getting through it. Initially I thought that the tamoxifen was causing blood clots because I was having pains in my calves. But further research on clots and DVT (deep vein thrombosis) ruled that out. I'm just sore.
Today I ventured out on a small hike to the mailbox and ended up walking about a mile. That last stretch was bit taxing, but the weather was conducive to walking so I soldiered on. I'll see what muscles scream tomorrow.
I've also been playing the guitar more and for longer periods, but my back is still getting tired. I'm hoping that more walking will help that set of muscles. My calluses are getting back into shape and the numbness in my thumb and forefinger (although still present), seems to be getting 'better'. From time to time I get pains in areas previously numb (surgical area too) but I think the nerves are growing back. I'm getting more sensation.
I'm still a cue ball and still only shave every few days, but I am beginning to get stubble on my head. I don't see any color other than white. But it's still early.
More steps forward and fewer steps backwards for a change.
Thanks for reading. More to come.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
New dance - two steps forward and one step back
I trust everyone had a safe and restful Labor Day.
I find it hard to fathom that the summer is (technically) over. With focus on my health challenges since the end of April, one half of the year has slipped by. These months of coping and recovering have certainly broken my regular cycle of doing things. Previously, I had my daily and weekend routine down pat. I'd get up for work, have coffee, do my exercises, iron, shave and shower and head to the highway. Now my being retired, I have yet to establish a new routine - although I've been trying.
Now that the chemo is (thankfully) done, I've been trying to get back into the swing of things. The most difficult part has been regaining energy and maintaining my stamina. Although the spirit is more than willing the flesh is still weak. Some of the simplest tasks like doing laundry, grocery shopping and the mundane (but necessary) household chores (can) wipe me out. When I have a 'good day', I earnestly try to re-start my life. I've had some productive exercise sessions, but the ensuing dizziness and overall weakness is frustrating. My biggest scare happened last week when I was rearranging some furniture on my three season porch to ready it for my least favorite season. I was taking my time, but at one point (after standing up quickly), I almost passed out. Not wanting to fall, I gracefully sat on the floor and eventually lay flat while it 'passed'. After what seemed like too long, I was able to slowly get up and sit. I sat for nearly an hour until my breathing settled. Clearly I did (and tried to do) too much. That episode wiped me out for a day. Very frustrating.
I'm aware that I haven't 'exerted' myself physically for nearly six months so it will take time to get back. But what I haven't anticipated was my having to take things even slower. Whatever I decide to accomplish, I need to build in extra time and ensure that the task is 'manageable'. It's disconcerting to 'want to' do something (taking steps forward), but having to retreat by taking a step back to recover. In addition, I'm cognizant that my body has been through hell and it needs time to get back on track, but only having energy to play the guitar (standing) for a half hour, or trying to vocalize for just fifteen minutes is disheartening. I do have to remind myself that it's only been a week from a theoretical chemo treatment and things take time. But, I'm so far from being able to load my gear into the car and set up for a gig and put in six to eight hours. This scares me. Especially after having that episode on my sun porch. I hate to entertain the thought that I may not be at that point to handle that for another year.
So the lesson learned is - you can push yourself but be prepared for push back. I'm still learning my limits and try to push on those when I can. When 'inside' you fell you can do what you used to, I'm rudely reminded that I'm not ready yet. Frustrating yes. But this is the new reality.
Thanks for reading. More to come.
I find it hard to fathom that the summer is (technically) over. With focus on my health challenges since the end of April, one half of the year has slipped by. These months of coping and recovering have certainly broken my regular cycle of doing things. Previously, I had my daily and weekend routine down pat. I'd get up for work, have coffee, do my exercises, iron, shave and shower and head to the highway. Now my being retired, I have yet to establish a new routine - although I've been trying.
Now that the chemo is (thankfully) done, I've been trying to get back into the swing of things. The most difficult part has been regaining energy and maintaining my stamina. Although the spirit is more than willing the flesh is still weak. Some of the simplest tasks like doing laundry, grocery shopping and the mundane (but necessary) household chores (can) wipe me out. When I have a 'good day', I earnestly try to re-start my life. I've had some productive exercise sessions, but the ensuing dizziness and overall weakness is frustrating. My biggest scare happened last week when I was rearranging some furniture on my three season porch to ready it for my least favorite season. I was taking my time, but at one point (after standing up quickly), I almost passed out. Not wanting to fall, I gracefully sat on the floor and eventually lay flat while it 'passed'. After what seemed like too long, I was able to slowly get up and sit. I sat for nearly an hour until my breathing settled. Clearly I did (and tried to do) too much. That episode wiped me out for a day. Very frustrating.
I'm aware that I haven't 'exerted' myself physically for nearly six months so it will take time to get back. But what I haven't anticipated was my having to take things even slower. Whatever I decide to accomplish, I need to build in extra time and ensure that the task is 'manageable'. It's disconcerting to 'want to' do something (taking steps forward), but having to retreat by taking a step back to recover. In addition, I'm cognizant that my body has been through hell and it needs time to get back on track, but only having energy to play the guitar (standing) for a half hour, or trying to vocalize for just fifteen minutes is disheartening. I do have to remind myself that it's only been a week from a theoretical chemo treatment and things take time. But, I'm so far from being able to load my gear into the car and set up for a gig and put in six to eight hours. This scares me. Especially after having that episode on my sun porch. I hate to entertain the thought that I may not be at that point to handle that for another year.
So the lesson learned is - you can push yourself but be prepared for push back. I'm still learning my limits and try to push on those when I can. When 'inside' you fell you can do what you used to, I'm rudely reminded that I'm not ready yet. Frustrating yes. But this is the new reality.
Thanks for reading. More to come.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
If it isn't one thing, it's three
I had my eye doctor appointment today. After getting away without glasses for 62 years, I'm now strongly encouraged to join the corrective lenses club. Yup - glasses.
The good news is I don't have glaucoma, my 'eye structures' are healthy and I don't have macular degeneration. Although, being an older light skinned male, I'm susceptible to it.
Age-related macular degeneration, often called AMD or ARMD, is the leading cause of vision loss and blindness among Americans who are age 65 and older. Because people in this group are an increasingly larger percentage of the general population, vision loss from macular degeneration is a growing problem.
The eye doctor said tht this is something that is monitored and prevention is eating leafy green vegetables (like spinach - which I love).
Now the bad news. I have cataracts.
A cataract is a clouding of the lens in the eye that affects vision. Most cataracts are related to aging. Cataracts are very common in older people. By age 80, more than half of all Americans either have a cataract or have had cataract surgery.
A cataract can occur in either or both eyes. It cannot spread from one eye to the other.
I have cataracts in both eyes, but my right eye has the clouding in my line of vision. The symptoms of early cataract may be improved with new eyeglasses, brighter lighting, anti-glare sunglasses, or magnifying lenses. If these measures do not help, surgery is the only effective treatment. Surgery involves removing the cloudy lens and replacing it with an artificial lens.
A cataract needs to be removed only when vision loss interferes with everyday activities, such as driving, reading, or watching TV. In most cases, delaying cataract surgery will not cause long-term damage to my eye or make the surgery more difficult. I do not have to rush into surgery.
I've been given a prescription for distance. My near vision is pretty good (20/30), but my distance is 20/40. Glasses will help bring that to 20/30.
The doctor said she doesn't know how long I've had these, but surmises that I've had them for about a year, but she has no other data on me for comparison. Some of her patients experience little to no change over time, while others show a greater progression. This is something to monitor, she said.
I asked what causes these other than age, she said that there are many variables (one being stress). [Gee I haven't had any reason for that.]. But added that my taking Tamoxifen for just over the last week had no affect. In addition, if there was any long term affect, it would not be cataracts.
She said it possible that I've had this problem (in my right eye), but didn't notice until I was asked to be cognizant of vision changes (as a result of Tamoxifen). The body does compensate, in this case by relying on the better eye. I may have been unaware of my impaired vision in my right eye.
Things could always be worse. So I'll get eye glasses for distance (driving mostly) and monitor my vision in between becoming an "I eats my spinach", Popeye.
More to come.
The good news is I don't have glaucoma, my 'eye structures' are healthy and I don't have macular degeneration. Although, being an older light skinned male, I'm susceptible to it.
Age-related macular degeneration, often called AMD or ARMD, is the leading cause of vision loss and blindness among Americans who are age 65 and older. Because people in this group are an increasingly larger percentage of the general population, vision loss from macular degeneration is a growing problem.
The eye doctor said tht this is something that is monitored and prevention is eating leafy green vegetables (like spinach - which I love).
Now the bad news. I have cataracts.
A cataract is a clouding of the lens in the eye that affects vision. Most cataracts are related to aging. Cataracts are very common in older people. By age 80, more than half of all Americans either have a cataract or have had cataract surgery.
A cataract can occur in either or both eyes. It cannot spread from one eye to the other.
I have cataracts in both eyes, but my right eye has the clouding in my line of vision. The symptoms of early cataract may be improved with new eyeglasses, brighter lighting, anti-glare sunglasses, or magnifying lenses. If these measures do not help, surgery is the only effective treatment. Surgery involves removing the cloudy lens and replacing it with an artificial lens.
A cataract needs to be removed only when vision loss interferes with everyday activities, such as driving, reading, or watching TV. In most cases, delaying cataract surgery will not cause long-term damage to my eye or make the surgery more difficult. I do not have to rush into surgery.
I've been given a prescription for distance. My near vision is pretty good (20/30), but my distance is 20/40. Glasses will help bring that to 20/30.
The doctor said she doesn't know how long I've had these, but surmises that I've had them for about a year, but she has no other data on me for comparison. Some of her patients experience little to no change over time, while others show a greater progression. This is something to monitor, she said.
I asked what causes these other than age, she said that there are many variables (one being stress). [Gee I haven't had any reason for that.]. But added that my taking Tamoxifen for just over the last week had no affect. In addition, if there was any long term affect, it would not be cataracts.
She said it possible that I've had this problem (in my right eye), but didn't notice until I was asked to be cognizant of vision changes (as a result of Tamoxifen). The body does compensate, in this case by relying on the better eye. I may have been unaware of my impaired vision in my right eye.
Things could always be worse. So I'll get eye glasses for distance (driving mostly) and monitor my vision in between becoming an "I eats my spinach", Popeye.
More to come.
Friday, August 28, 2015
'Them Summer days. Those Summer Days.....' - Sly Stone
When the weather is fine and it also happens to be summer, I can hear Sly and the Family Stone playing "Hot Fun in the Summertime" in my head. Like comfort food it's comfort music and it harkens back to an earlier time when worries where few and summer seemed to last forever.
I've noticed remarkable improvement in my general health and well being over the course of this week. My sense of taste has returned; the numbness in my finger and thumb is rapidly dissipating; I've been playing the guitar and returned to singing; I have energy; I've returned to doing my daily exercises; I'm watching less TV and I'm doing mini-projects around the house. In addition, the weather makes it much easier to do things.
I'm still bothered by various aches, pains and the lingering side effects of the chemo. [Chemo brain is real]. I'm optimistic that these too will begin to dissipate. I also have a heightened sense of awareness to any new side effects that Tamoxifen MAY bring. Some of the early side effects have either calmed down or I'm getting used to them. It's still early as Tamoxifen will also be cumulative like the chemo (unfortunately). I've never heard back from the doctor's office about my vision changes, but I'm satisfied that the eye doctor will have first dibs in determining if it's an age thing or something else.
I did get news for my reconstructive surgery. Pending insurance approval (and hopefully not a problem), I'm scheduled for my pre-op mid October and my first of two surgeries mid November. My immediate concern is the impending season of white stuff and my abilities to deal with it given stitches and recovery. Both the Farmer's Almanac and the Old Farmer's Almanac have told New Englanders to 'give up and die'. But it is what it is. However, I may just break down and buy a snowblower this year to ensure that we have no white stuff. Now I'll have to consider how I'll tackle keeping the roof free of the eight foot iceberg (like last year).
I hope everyone enjoys the last vestiges of "Them Summer Days"!
More to come. Thanks for reading.
I've noticed remarkable improvement in my general health and well being over the course of this week. My sense of taste has returned; the numbness in my finger and thumb is rapidly dissipating; I've been playing the guitar and returned to singing; I have energy; I've returned to doing my daily exercises; I'm watching less TV and I'm doing mini-projects around the house. In addition, the weather makes it much easier to do things.
I'm still bothered by various aches, pains and the lingering side effects of the chemo. [Chemo brain is real]. I'm optimistic that these too will begin to dissipate. I also have a heightened sense of awareness to any new side effects that Tamoxifen MAY bring. Some of the early side effects have either calmed down or I'm getting used to them. It's still early as Tamoxifen will also be cumulative like the chemo (unfortunately). I've never heard back from the doctor's office about my vision changes, but I'm satisfied that the eye doctor will have first dibs in determining if it's an age thing or something else.
I did get news for my reconstructive surgery. Pending insurance approval (and hopefully not a problem), I'm scheduled for my pre-op mid October and my first of two surgeries mid November. My immediate concern is the impending season of white stuff and my abilities to deal with it given stitches and recovery. Both the Farmer's Almanac and the Old Farmer's Almanac have told New Englanders to 'give up and die'. But it is what it is. However, I may just break down and buy a snowblower this year to ensure that we have no white stuff. Now I'll have to consider how I'll tackle keeping the roof free of the eight foot iceberg (like last year).
I hope everyone enjoys the last vestiges of "Them Summer Days"!
More to come. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Follow-up with Dr. Chatson and Tamoxifen update
Visited with Dr. Chatson today to discuss the next steps for my reconstructive/reduction surgeries.
The waiting room was pretty full and as a result, I had to wait a half hour before getting to see Dr. Chatson. Finally being called, I had two two professionals working in tandem, to take my vitals. Then I waited for the doctor to join me.
Dr Chatson came in and wasted no time. Asking me to remove my shirt he closely inspected the surgical area and related scars. He asked me to step in front of the mirror so he could discuss his thoughts/findings as he directed my attention to the corresponding parts of my body.
He said that the scar was still very tight. It had relaxed somewhat since our last visit, so he thought that over time it would continue to relax. Dr. Chatson did say that due to my current state (of body healing), he would have to rethink his approach. Apparently because the surgical area was 'opened' two times, there is considerable scarring tissue that is tight and causing a concavity. He thought that a fat graft/liposuction approach first discussed may not work this time. Because of the tight scarring, the end result of that approach would still have a considerable degree of concavity.
He paused and said, "I may have a better approach." He asked me to wait while he left the room. Upon his return he had his book of before and after pictures of other (anonymous - no face) patients. He turned to the back and said,"Here's someone with a similar situation".
So the tentative plan now is to wait a few months (some time in November) and approach this in two phases.
At the highest level:
Phase 1 - reduction and liposuction of my left (good) breast and initial liposuction of certain areas of the surgical area. Some of my own fat (near my waistline) will be taken to replace and remold. He will need to reopen the surgical site to remove some scarring and insert some (he called hard fat) to relieve the concavity.
Phase 2 - after recovery and healing, he will take a skin graft from the other side of my abdomen to create a new nipple.
He cautioned me that when all was said and done I may still have some concavity, but it's too soon to tell. [It can't be worse that now.]
Because this is a change to the approach, he needed to write up a new case for the insurance company. He didn't believe there would be a problem, but thought that the November time frame was realistic. He said he would notify me when the surgery is scheduled and when I would need to arrive for pre-op.
Sounds like a plan. So now I wait.
Tamoxifen update
I'm on my third day of Tamoxifen. With the host of possible side effects this medication MAY cause, Dr. Mehta told me to notify him immediately for a certain few. One being change in vision.
Change in vision is very broad, so one might be willing to accept little things that may have happened in the past as being 'normal'. For instance, if some dust gets in your eye and you instinctively rub it, your eye may tear a bit. This could be a 'change in vision' but one would argue it was caused by my rubbing and not the affect of Tamoxifen.
To keep cool and comfy, I have been sitting in front of a fan. I know that from time to time one eye may get too much of a breeze and I feel like 'dry eye'. I thought little of that in the past, but my heightened sense of change now triggers an alarm. I had noticed yesterday that the vision in my right eye seemed 'not as clear'. With both eyes, I had no problem seeing or reading, but I did have the sensation of having my 'lens' smudged. Last evening while watching TV, I closed my left eye and my right eye was significantly blurry. Hmmm Hoping a night's sleep would take care of things, I waited until today.
I'm having the same symptoms today. I did make an appointment with the eye doctor. It's possible that after 62 years I need glasses. But panic set in and I was looking up possible causes - cataract? To be safe and the coincidence of this onset with my beginning to take Tamoxifen, I did call Dr. Mehta's office and reported this.
As this writing I've not heard back from either the eye doctor or my oncologist.
Yes, it truly is - 'always something'. More to come.
[Post Script: Eye doctor's office called me back for an appointment for early next week.]
The waiting room was pretty full and as a result, I had to wait a half hour before getting to see Dr. Chatson. Finally being called, I had two two professionals working in tandem, to take my vitals. Then I waited for the doctor to join me.
Dr Chatson came in and wasted no time. Asking me to remove my shirt he closely inspected the surgical area and related scars. He asked me to step in front of the mirror so he could discuss his thoughts/findings as he directed my attention to the corresponding parts of my body.
He said that the scar was still very tight. It had relaxed somewhat since our last visit, so he thought that over time it would continue to relax. Dr. Chatson did say that due to my current state (of body healing), he would have to rethink his approach. Apparently because the surgical area was 'opened' two times, there is considerable scarring tissue that is tight and causing a concavity. He thought that a fat graft/liposuction approach first discussed may not work this time. Because of the tight scarring, the end result of that approach would still have a considerable degree of concavity.
He paused and said, "I may have a better approach." He asked me to wait while he left the room. Upon his return he had his book of before and after pictures of other (anonymous - no face) patients. He turned to the back and said,"Here's someone with a similar situation".
So the tentative plan now is to wait a few months (some time in November) and approach this in two phases.
At the highest level:
Phase 1 - reduction and liposuction of my left (good) breast and initial liposuction of certain areas of the surgical area. Some of my own fat (near my waistline) will be taken to replace and remold. He will need to reopen the surgical site to remove some scarring and insert some (he called hard fat) to relieve the concavity.
Phase 2 - after recovery and healing, he will take a skin graft from the other side of my abdomen to create a new nipple.
He cautioned me that when all was said and done I may still have some concavity, but it's too soon to tell. [It can't be worse that now.]
Because this is a change to the approach, he needed to write up a new case for the insurance company. He didn't believe there would be a problem, but thought that the November time frame was realistic. He said he would notify me when the surgery is scheduled and when I would need to arrive for pre-op.
Sounds like a plan. So now I wait.
Tamoxifen update
I'm on my third day of Tamoxifen. With the host of possible side effects this medication MAY cause, Dr. Mehta told me to notify him immediately for a certain few. One being change in vision.
Change in vision is very broad, so one might be willing to accept little things that may have happened in the past as being 'normal'. For instance, if some dust gets in your eye and you instinctively rub it, your eye may tear a bit. This could be a 'change in vision' but one would argue it was caused by my rubbing and not the affect of Tamoxifen.
To keep cool and comfy, I have been sitting in front of a fan. I know that from time to time one eye may get too much of a breeze and I feel like 'dry eye'. I thought little of that in the past, but my heightened sense of change now triggers an alarm. I had noticed yesterday that the vision in my right eye seemed 'not as clear'. With both eyes, I had no problem seeing or reading, but I did have the sensation of having my 'lens' smudged. Last evening while watching TV, I closed my left eye and my right eye was significantly blurry. Hmmm Hoping a night's sleep would take care of things, I waited until today.
I'm having the same symptoms today. I did make an appointment with the eye doctor. It's possible that after 62 years I need glasses. But panic set in and I was looking up possible causes - cataract? To be safe and the coincidence of this onset with my beginning to take Tamoxifen, I did call Dr. Mehta's office and reported this.
As this writing I've not heard back from either the eye doctor or my oncologist.
Yes, it truly is - 'always something'. More to come.
[Post Script: Eye doctor's office called me back for an appointment for early next week.]
Monday, August 24, 2015
Chemo # 4 - Follow-up with Dr. Mehta
Are people that bad of a driver or are they exercising 'uber car protection' by purposely taking up two parking spots?
Looking for a space to park today at Holy Family - Dana Farber was quite difficult. I don't recall it being so busy there. I guess my prior appointments have been on less busy days. There must have been room for for an additional dozen cars but selfish people were parked outside the lines making the adjacent space un-park-able. I ended up finding a spot the furthest distance away from the Cancer Care Unit. Not that I minded walking, but trawling for a spot took more time than I anticipated and I was now running late. Turns out it didn't matter.
The waiting area was packed. While checking in I was scoping out a seat - any seat. Luckily someone was called in as I was about to sit. Most waiting were having their blood taken and vitals checked, so as one would leave, one would return causing a musical chairs effect. I waited a good half hour before being called for by blood draw.
There was a small line for blood with only one phlebotomist who was been harangued by a medical professional (a doctor possibly) because the lab worker wasn't working as fast as she wished. Quite stressful atmosphere and not conducive to the likelihood of a near pain-free venipuncture. Which turned out to be the case. At least it was quick once it was my turn. So quick that small talk was kept at a minimum and I nearly got much of a response to how busy it was. [I guess it was an understatement so she may have felt it more rhetorical than an opportunity to explain why.] I was dismissed to the waiting room (purgatory) and yet another chair.
Not to be judgmental, but most of the crowd in purgatory where older than myself, so there was no one missing work (I surmised), but the lady next to me kept asking for the time and was huffing because her doctor was now 15 minutes late. I wanted to add that I had now been waiting an hour, but passed at being the 'one-up guy'. I had pulled my cap over my eyes hoping she would think I was asleep and stop asking the time. It worked, but she was asking others around me. I was gladdened to hear my name being called for the vital check.
Once again there was a line, but everyone knew the drill and things moved pretty well. Apparently there was a trend for high blood pressure readings, mine included. I wonder why?
I was released to spend more time in purgatory. But finding yet another chair to sit and reflect on past grievances, I had noticed that Lady Time was gone. Of course every void gets filled and this time it was someone who insisted on having a loud cell phone conversation. The things that people say in public places when they believe their cell conversation is private. So many rolled eyes. Entertaining if nothing else. An angel opened the pearly gates and called my name. Yes!
I was guided to a familiar examination room and was told that Dr. Mehta would be right with me. Compared to my other waits, he did show up quickly. He looked refreshed after having some time off. I almost asked if he enjoyed his vacation, but dispensed with the small talk and got right into my reflections on chemo # 4. Clearly this has been the most challenging. He agreed that the cumulative effect would result in this being the toughest. We spoke of some of the persistent side effects, notably the neuropathy but spent more time talking about my loss of appetite and the changes to my sense of taste.
Dr. Mehta said, "These are all classic symptoms and compared to others, you did very well." He indicated that my counts were lower compared to my other readings, but not low enough where I would need a booster. He anticipated the levels would be near normal over the next few days. This definitely mirrored how I was feeling, since yesterday was my first 'good day', but my having interrupted sleep patterns last night, today wasn't 'as good'. He said, "You are free from breast cancer.' (Really free - what could have survived that 12 week ordeal?) So, I asked, "What's next? Another CAT scan or other tests?"
Dr Mehta said, "In women a mammogram and ultra sound would be next, but since you have no breast tissue I'm just monitored every three months." He said that he was going to start me on Tamoxifen today. I asked if it was for 5 or 10 years? Dr Mehta indicated that Tamoxifen will 'kill' any new breast cancer cells by blocking the estrogen (my cancer is estrogen receptor positive). However, there isn't enough data on men other than the comparative data of the Oncotype DX. He said in five years there may be more data. He'll be seeing me at intervals of every six months eventually.
We discussed the Tamoxifen and possible side effects. He said that he wasn't worried, but regular blood tests and my knowing my body - and reporting these symptoms if they occur, the risk of 'bad side effects' is low. He shook my hand, congratulated me and said he would see me in November. "Go on and live your life", he said.
By the time I reached check out, the waiting room was almost empty. How is that? I had been there three hours - wow. I got my paperwork for my next blood test (day before my birthday) and appointment just prior to Thanksgiving. That's full circle since that's when I discovered the lump while shoveling snow last Thanksgiving.
I called home to check voice messages and Walgreens had left a message that my prescription was ready to be picked up. I headed there.
The doctor told me he was going to give me a prescription for 90 pills with four refills to cover a year, but when I picked it up there were only 30 pills. When I told the pharmacy assistant what I was expecting he said the insurance wouldn't cover 90, so they split it up. Knowing you can't fight the insurance company I said how much. He said nothing. Very odd. I don't ever recall getting any pills for free. But I'm not complaining. Sure I'll gladly come back each month for my next free 30 pills. [I'm still suspicious though.]
Getting home, I read the insert and was shaken by all the possible side effects. I guess the most dominant ones are hot flashes, head aches that dissipate over time and possible weight loss or gain (flip a coin). There were some specific to the female gender that don't apply to me unless I sprout a vagina. Just one more self examination I have to be mindful of. One caution was that shouldn't operate a motor vehicle or heavy equipment until I know how this Tamoxifen will react with me. So I decided to stay in and do some grocery shopping tomorrow.
It will be difficult over the coming days to determine if I'm recovering from chemo slower or having some effects of the Tamoxifen. I have experienced a dull headache, but that could be from caffeine withdrawal. (I did have one mug today. Maybe tomorrow I'll try more.)
So the chemo chapters are just about to close, but the challenge continues with reconstructive surgery and tending to my Triple A.
Much more to come.
Thanks to all my readers for your support as well as my family, friends, musicians and former work colleagues.
Looking for a space to park today at Holy Family - Dana Farber was quite difficult. I don't recall it being so busy there. I guess my prior appointments have been on less busy days. There must have been room for for an additional dozen cars but selfish people were parked outside the lines making the adjacent space un-park-able. I ended up finding a spot the furthest distance away from the Cancer Care Unit. Not that I minded walking, but trawling for a spot took more time than I anticipated and I was now running late. Turns out it didn't matter.
The waiting area was packed. While checking in I was scoping out a seat - any seat. Luckily someone was called in as I was about to sit. Most waiting were having their blood taken and vitals checked, so as one would leave, one would return causing a musical chairs effect. I waited a good half hour before being called for by blood draw.
There was a small line for blood with only one phlebotomist who was been harangued by a medical professional (a doctor possibly) because the lab worker wasn't working as fast as she wished. Quite stressful atmosphere and not conducive to the likelihood of a near pain-free venipuncture. Which turned out to be the case. At least it was quick once it was my turn. So quick that small talk was kept at a minimum and I nearly got much of a response to how busy it was. [I guess it was an understatement so she may have felt it more rhetorical than an opportunity to explain why.] I was dismissed to the waiting room (purgatory) and yet another chair.
Not to be judgmental, but most of the crowd in purgatory where older than myself, so there was no one missing work (I surmised), but the lady next to me kept asking for the time and was huffing because her doctor was now 15 minutes late. I wanted to add that I had now been waiting an hour, but passed at being the 'one-up guy'. I had pulled my cap over my eyes hoping she would think I was asleep and stop asking the time. It worked, but she was asking others around me. I was gladdened to hear my name being called for the vital check.
Once again there was a line, but everyone knew the drill and things moved pretty well. Apparently there was a trend for high blood pressure readings, mine included. I wonder why?
I was released to spend more time in purgatory. But finding yet another chair to sit and reflect on past grievances, I had noticed that Lady Time was gone. Of course every void gets filled and this time it was someone who insisted on having a loud cell phone conversation. The things that people say in public places when they believe their cell conversation is private. So many rolled eyes. Entertaining if nothing else. An angel opened the pearly gates and called my name. Yes!
I was guided to a familiar examination room and was told that Dr. Mehta would be right with me. Compared to my other waits, he did show up quickly. He looked refreshed after having some time off. I almost asked if he enjoyed his vacation, but dispensed with the small talk and got right into my reflections on chemo # 4. Clearly this has been the most challenging. He agreed that the cumulative effect would result in this being the toughest. We spoke of some of the persistent side effects, notably the neuropathy but spent more time talking about my loss of appetite and the changes to my sense of taste.
Dr. Mehta said, "These are all classic symptoms and compared to others, you did very well." He indicated that my counts were lower compared to my other readings, but not low enough where I would need a booster. He anticipated the levels would be near normal over the next few days. This definitely mirrored how I was feeling, since yesterday was my first 'good day', but my having interrupted sleep patterns last night, today wasn't 'as good'. He said, "You are free from breast cancer.' (Really free - what could have survived that 12 week ordeal?) So, I asked, "What's next? Another CAT scan or other tests?"
Dr Mehta said, "In women a mammogram and ultra sound would be next, but since you have no breast tissue I'm just monitored every three months." He said that he was going to start me on Tamoxifen today. I asked if it was for 5 or 10 years? Dr Mehta indicated that Tamoxifen will 'kill' any new breast cancer cells by blocking the estrogen (my cancer is estrogen receptor positive). However, there isn't enough data on men other than the comparative data of the Oncotype DX. He said in five years there may be more data. He'll be seeing me at intervals of every six months eventually.
We discussed the Tamoxifen and possible side effects. He said that he wasn't worried, but regular blood tests and my knowing my body - and reporting these symptoms if they occur, the risk of 'bad side effects' is low. He shook my hand, congratulated me and said he would see me in November. "Go on and live your life", he said.
By the time I reached check out, the waiting room was almost empty. How is that? I had been there three hours - wow. I got my paperwork for my next blood test (day before my birthday) and appointment just prior to Thanksgiving. That's full circle since that's when I discovered the lump while shoveling snow last Thanksgiving.
I called home to check voice messages and Walgreens had left a message that my prescription was ready to be picked up. I headed there.
The doctor told me he was going to give me a prescription for 90 pills with four refills to cover a year, but when I picked it up there were only 30 pills. When I told the pharmacy assistant what I was expecting he said the insurance wouldn't cover 90, so they split it up. Knowing you can't fight the insurance company I said how much. He said nothing. Very odd. I don't ever recall getting any pills for free. But I'm not complaining. Sure I'll gladly come back each month for my next free 30 pills. [I'm still suspicious though.]
Getting home, I read the insert and was shaken by all the possible side effects. I guess the most dominant ones are hot flashes, head aches that dissipate over time and possible weight loss or gain (flip a coin). There were some specific to the female gender that don't apply to me unless I sprout a vagina. Just one more self examination I have to be mindful of. One caution was that shouldn't operate a motor vehicle or heavy equipment until I know how this Tamoxifen will react with me. So I decided to stay in and do some grocery shopping tomorrow.
It will be difficult over the coming days to determine if I'm recovering from chemo slower or having some effects of the Tamoxifen. I have experienced a dull headache, but that could be from caffeine withdrawal. (I did have one mug today. Maybe tomorrow I'll try more.)
So the chemo chapters are just about to close, but the challenge continues with reconstructive surgery and tending to my Triple A.
Much more to come.
Thanks to all my readers for your support as well as my family, friends, musicians and former work colleagues.
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Chemo # 4 - day 10 check-in
Certainly this round of chemo has been the toughest yet. Other than the my consistent side-effects: fatigue; low energy; lack of appetite; disrupted sleep patterns; persistent numbness in my thumb and forefinger (and to a lesser degree - my feet and toes) and general achiness, the cumulative affects of these poisons have amplified some of these side effects and manifested into 'new' ones.
Fatigue
This has been a constant, but this round (so far) it hasn't let up. During 1-3, by day 10 if not sooner, I 'felt' an improvement. There could be many factors why this is not the case right now. The atmosphere (weather) has been very 'heavy'. Between the humidity and the rain storms, the air is super saturated and not conducive to one feeling energized. Allegedly, Wednesday will be the break in the current weather pattern. [Hurricane Danny may change that.] Although it's been humid, sitting in front of a fan seemed to work and I have not turned on the air conditioner. [My electric bill should reflect this.]
Low energy
I'm sure this is directly related to the fatigue and my lack of appetite. In addition, my standing causes dizziness to the point of a near black-out to various degrees with no particular pattern. This makes me immediately stand and wait (making sure I'm near a chair or something to hold on to). Once my 'blindness' passes, I able to move cautiously. Once up, I'm OK unless I forget and bend over to pick up a dropped spoon or whatever (not feeling things picked up with my left hand causes many small things to drop). Once erect, the dizziness returns. [It should be noted that dizziness is a side effect of the blood pressure medicine I'm taking, so this is not foreign to me. However, the degree of dizziness has been much greater while undergoing chemotherapy.]
Lack of appetite
Throughout this ordeal, I have been fortunate not to have nausea. However, there have been many foods that I used to eat daily (salads, oranges, fresh fruits, coffee) that I have little tolerance for. Certain vegetables when cooked are 'passable', but others and some fruits, I can't eat. Not that they make me nauseous, but I get 'the burps' and lately, spells of hiccups and gas pains. My online research has made me understand that the chemo does affect the entire digestive track and many of these foods are too much at this time (hopefully). Prior rounds, I relied on my cravings, but this round even my cravings can cause problems.
Taste changes
Most likely related to my lack of appetite and the effects of chemo on my digestive tract, I've been most affected by taste changes for round 4. During previous rounds, I had cravings for foods not as healthy for me, like steak and cheese subs, pizza, burgers and fries. But I was able to tolerate these and did get some nutrition. However, this week all of my cravings have seemed flat tasting and basically tasteless. Even fish (salmon, haddock, scallops) has not been satisfying. My old stand-by of bland foods: cottage cheese; yogurt; cheese; oatmeal and crackers are soon becoming a turn off. I'm now resorting to soup, nuts and chocolate. Possibly for their salt content. But even salt taste is diminished. I am forcing my self to eat something, but choices are getting smaller. I've lost almost 10 pounds since my last weigh-in. [I'm usually bloated from all the fluids, so the last weigh-in indicated a higher weight than normal. In reality I'm probably 5 pounds from my 'normal' weight.]
Having been a coffee drinker for 30 years, giving up coffee seemed to make my brain foggier than 'normal'. Today, I broke down and had a cup of instant (Starbucks). So far so good.
Disrupted sleep patterns
In previous rounds, the first few days/nights I experienced intermittent sleep. Generally waking up every hour or two and during one round not being able to fall back asleep for hours [Law and Order marathon reference here]. Round 4 had similar patterns, but most recently, I've been waking up with back pains, leg and arm pains. There could be various reasons why this is more prevalent now since I haven't had the energy to take walks, thus causing muscles to atrophy and be painful. It's a two sided sword, but I'll try to 'ease' into a regimen of light exercise and walking as soon as this round 'breaks'.
Neuropathy
Listed as possible side effect of Adriamycin, I have had 'slight' numbness to my feet and a few toes. Nothing debilitation, but noticeable when standing in one spot for too long (4-5 minutes). The most aggravating neuropathy has been to my left thumb and forefinger. Dr. Mehta had mentioned that neuropathy is generally symmetric and since I haven't experienced this on my right hand, it's probably not chemo related. I don't want to be charged with practicing medicine without a license, but I do believe this is related. As the rounds of chemotherapy wind down, the numbness begins to dissipate. It's at this time that I'm able to play the guitar again. While this numbness is heightened (first two weeks of a chemo), the 'fine' sense of touch is gone. In addition, pressing my finger against the string actually hurts. Other normal functions, like picking up a small object, turning a newspaper page, opening an envelop, or separating paper are quite difficult. I can still button and unbutton clothing (which would be impossible if this was Charcot Marie Tooth (CMT) which runs in my family). I'm hopeful that by next week, I'll begin (again) to get my guitar chops up.
General achiness
Much like a neglected house, my body is in need of repairs. Most of these should be done by the body's recuperative powers which will need my attention in ensuring that I have the right sustenance and exercise regimen in place. Until this happens, I'm really feeling old. Chemo has done a number on me. My veins ache, my mouth seems on the verge of being sore, my muscles need basic toning, my stamina needs rebuilding, and I have many other aches and pains.
Some things will bounce back, while others will take some time. I'm fearful of the things that will never return or the 'things' I will need to live with the rest of my life. But I'll face those when they are identified. Until then, I have more to go with chemo # 4.
On Monday, I have a follow-up with Dr. Mehta. In the words of Roseanne Roseannadanna, "It's always something."
More to come.
Fatigue
This has been a constant, but this round (so far) it hasn't let up. During 1-3, by day 10 if not sooner, I 'felt' an improvement. There could be many factors why this is not the case right now. The atmosphere (weather) has been very 'heavy'. Between the humidity and the rain storms, the air is super saturated and not conducive to one feeling energized. Allegedly, Wednesday will be the break in the current weather pattern. [Hurricane Danny may change that.] Although it's been humid, sitting in front of a fan seemed to work and I have not turned on the air conditioner. [My electric bill should reflect this.]
Low energy
I'm sure this is directly related to the fatigue and my lack of appetite. In addition, my standing causes dizziness to the point of a near black-out to various degrees with no particular pattern. This makes me immediately stand and wait (making sure I'm near a chair or something to hold on to). Once my 'blindness' passes, I able to move cautiously. Once up, I'm OK unless I forget and bend over to pick up a dropped spoon or whatever (not feeling things picked up with my left hand causes many small things to drop). Once erect, the dizziness returns. [It should be noted that dizziness is a side effect of the blood pressure medicine I'm taking, so this is not foreign to me. However, the degree of dizziness has been much greater while undergoing chemotherapy.]
Lack of appetite
Throughout this ordeal, I have been fortunate not to have nausea. However, there have been many foods that I used to eat daily (salads, oranges, fresh fruits, coffee) that I have little tolerance for. Certain vegetables when cooked are 'passable', but others and some fruits, I can't eat. Not that they make me nauseous, but I get 'the burps' and lately, spells of hiccups and gas pains. My online research has made me understand that the chemo does affect the entire digestive track and many of these foods are too much at this time (hopefully). Prior rounds, I relied on my cravings, but this round even my cravings can cause problems.
Taste changes
Most likely related to my lack of appetite and the effects of chemo on my digestive tract, I've been most affected by taste changes for round 4. During previous rounds, I had cravings for foods not as healthy for me, like steak and cheese subs, pizza, burgers and fries. But I was able to tolerate these and did get some nutrition. However, this week all of my cravings have seemed flat tasting and basically tasteless. Even fish (salmon, haddock, scallops) has not been satisfying. My old stand-by of bland foods: cottage cheese; yogurt; cheese; oatmeal and crackers are soon becoming a turn off. I'm now resorting to soup, nuts and chocolate. Possibly for their salt content. But even salt taste is diminished. I am forcing my self to eat something, but choices are getting smaller. I've lost almost 10 pounds since my last weigh-in. [I'm usually bloated from all the fluids, so the last weigh-in indicated a higher weight than normal. In reality I'm probably 5 pounds from my 'normal' weight.]
Having been a coffee drinker for 30 years, giving up coffee seemed to make my brain foggier than 'normal'. Today, I broke down and had a cup of instant (Starbucks). So far so good.
Disrupted sleep patterns
In previous rounds, the first few days/nights I experienced intermittent sleep. Generally waking up every hour or two and during one round not being able to fall back asleep for hours [Law and Order marathon reference here]. Round 4 had similar patterns, but most recently, I've been waking up with back pains, leg and arm pains. There could be various reasons why this is more prevalent now since I haven't had the energy to take walks, thus causing muscles to atrophy and be painful. It's a two sided sword, but I'll try to 'ease' into a regimen of light exercise and walking as soon as this round 'breaks'.
Neuropathy
Listed as possible side effect of Adriamycin, I have had 'slight' numbness to my feet and a few toes. Nothing debilitation, but noticeable when standing in one spot for too long (4-5 minutes). The most aggravating neuropathy has been to my left thumb and forefinger. Dr. Mehta had mentioned that neuropathy is generally symmetric and since I haven't experienced this on my right hand, it's probably not chemo related. I don't want to be charged with practicing medicine without a license, but I do believe this is related. As the rounds of chemotherapy wind down, the numbness begins to dissipate. It's at this time that I'm able to play the guitar again. While this numbness is heightened (first two weeks of a chemo), the 'fine' sense of touch is gone. In addition, pressing my finger against the string actually hurts. Other normal functions, like picking up a small object, turning a newspaper page, opening an envelop, or separating paper are quite difficult. I can still button and unbutton clothing (which would be impossible if this was Charcot Marie Tooth (CMT) which runs in my family). I'm hopeful that by next week, I'll begin (again) to get my guitar chops up.
General achiness
Much like a neglected house, my body is in need of repairs. Most of these should be done by the body's recuperative powers which will need my attention in ensuring that I have the right sustenance and exercise regimen in place. Until this happens, I'm really feeling old. Chemo has done a number on me. My veins ache, my mouth seems on the verge of being sore, my muscles need basic toning, my stamina needs rebuilding, and I have many other aches and pains.
Some things will bounce back, while others will take some time. I'm fearful of the things that will never return or the 'things' I will need to live with the rest of my life. But I'll face those when they are identified. Until then, I have more to go with chemo # 4.
On Monday, I have a follow-up with Dr. Mehta. In the words of Roseanne Roseannadanna, "It's always something."
More to come.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Almost a week into Chemo # 4
As expected, I've been feeling progressively worse since my last entry. I've had days of waking up every hour or two; little to zero energy; hardly any appetite barring the occasional craving; sporadic episodes of hiccups; a change in the way food tastes (or doesn't taste); a near black-out each time I stand; and my 'strange' neuropathy to my thumb and forefinger has manifested itself to a greater degree. I'm once again hopeful that this will dissipate over time (as it appeared to do in my third week).
I've been more than content to watch TV. I've switched to musical and historic offerings. On the premium music channels, i.e., Palladia, I've watched entire concerts of McCartney and Wings over America (filmed in 1976), the Who (Quadraphenia) and others. I found that Mysteries at the Museum was available from Netflix (sans commercial interruption), so I started from the beginning and watched in the breeze of a window fan. Although we've been having a heat wave, it hasn't bothered me. Sitting still and doing virtually nothing doesn't generate much heat, so the fan suffices. I have noticed that the house temperature has been 84 degrees, but I've been OK without turning on the air conditioner. It's cooled down at night so I sleep with blankets on. I'm now to the point where I sleep uninterrupted for longer periods of time. However, I've been having very strange dreams.
Last evening one of my temperature readings was 99.2 degrees. In the past, this pattern has shown that I've reached Nadir and soon after I begin to feel better. If so, this has come a few days earlier than the other treatments. So I'll be monitoring this to see if it's not just a fluke. I have noticed that I'm less dizzy when standing and I even had energy to do a load of laundry. I'm hopeful that the days will begin to get better.
More to come.
I've been more than content to watch TV. I've switched to musical and historic offerings. On the premium music channels, i.e., Palladia, I've watched entire concerts of McCartney and Wings over America (filmed in 1976), the Who (Quadraphenia) and others. I found that Mysteries at the Museum was available from Netflix (sans commercial interruption), so I started from the beginning and watched in the breeze of a window fan. Although we've been having a heat wave, it hasn't bothered me. Sitting still and doing virtually nothing doesn't generate much heat, so the fan suffices. I have noticed that the house temperature has been 84 degrees, but I've been OK without turning on the air conditioner. It's cooled down at night so I sleep with blankets on. I'm now to the point where I sleep uninterrupted for longer periods of time. However, I've been having very strange dreams.
Last evening one of my temperature readings was 99.2 degrees. In the past, this pattern has shown that I've reached Nadir and soon after I begin to feel better. If so, this has come a few days earlier than the other treatments. So I'll be monitoring this to see if it's not just a fluke. I have noticed that I'm less dizzy when standing and I even had energy to do a load of laundry. I'm hopeful that the days will begin to get better.
More to come.
Friday, August 14, 2015
Chemo # 4 and day one
My other chemotherapy treatments where scheduled for early mornings. But because I needed authorization from someone other than my oncologist, I did receive the authorization from Sandra Creamer yesterday. So, the appointment for my last round of chemo was scheduled for the afternoon.
When I arrived in the chemo unit, the morning crowd was clearing out. I jumped into station 1. Lucky seven was occupied. I did see a full compliment of nurses: Liz, Ollie, Linda and of course Magoo...err, Roberta. I waited until the first one was free. Ollie came over and arranged all the implements of pain on the table then left. Linda came over and took over. I haven't had her before, but she was great. First time and minimal pain. Ollie returned and hooked me up to the first of my IV bags. The saline solution finished then the anti nausea IV was attached for an hour of dripping. All these fluids quickly passed through my system and were eager to enter the porcelain bowl. As I've learned from my other visits, the drip machine runs on battery back-up so I unplugged it and wheeled it into the restroom. While there I noticed that blood was being back-flushed into the IV. I also noticed that the unit was quiet. Upon returning to my station, I got Ollie's attention and she said, "Oh, this is the unit that needs the battery replaced. No worries, I'll call it in and reset the timer once it's plugged in." Phew, that wasn't as bad as I anticipated. It was now time for the Adriamycin (that beautiful red poison). Just the look of the two huge tubes and now that color (one of my favorites) evoked feelings of anxiety and queasiness. Bring it on and let's get this thing done.
Linda approached and set up shop to administer these tubes manually (like each other time). In chatting with Linda learned that she was originally from Maine, outside of Farmington and she reminisced about how many moose were there in the wild coexisting with the human neighbors. She had moved closer to work, but wishes to move back to 'the country'. Chatting about this and that makes the time fly and certainly took my mind off that poison. Before I new it both tubes were done. I told her before we do the next IV, I needed to make some red water. [Adriamycin makes urine a red-blush color and it's good to get it out of the bladder as soon as possible because of the toxicity.] Linda unplugged the IV machine and let me do my thing. Upon my return, I replaced the AC cord and waited for the next treatment.
Ollie stopped by and with the Cyclophosphamide, the last poison, and connected me and turned on the machine. "This will take about an hour", she said. I settled in and took my cap and covered my eyes. I was almost dozing when I heard a voice behind my chair. Apparently a Dana Farber employee was on a headset providing the serial number to the IV unit needing a battery. She apologized for disturbing me and slipped away. About 40 minutes into this IV, I once again needed to visit the porcelain throne. I disconnected the power and announced my intentions before leaving the unit. Upon my return there seemed to me no one around. I reconnected the power and resumed my position. By this time, Ollie walked by and she said, "Oh ya, you need to be reset." Beep beep beep, I was back on track.
The timer beeped and Ollie said, "You are all done. I just want to flush you with a little more saline for about 5 minutes." Not a problem, I said.
Liz stopped by and said that I was a real trooper and gave be a nice parting gift bag containing, water, hand sanitizer, chap stick, moisturizer, note pad with pen and hard candies. The bag was water-proof and she said was the perfect size for a vanity kleenex box. There was also a hand written note saying, "Hope you feel better". I thanked her and the team. By this point I was all done. I bid adieu and thanked everyone again (even Roberta). Knowing that this stuff was in me only the first part was done. I now have 7-10 days ahead of me.
Arriving home, as expected, I was fuzzy brained, had a headache, really no appetite and little energy. I got my water and sat in my chair and surfed the TV. Not too much gained my interest. I fell asleep and woke up just as the sun was setting. I had my legs crossed so one leg was asleep. I don't know how I managed it but one arm was also asleep. Panic set in and I was having thoughts of stroke, neuropathy, and whatever. However, the limbs began to wake up, but slower than normal. I selected to stay put versus standing up and risking a blacking out. Eventually I mustered enough courage and energy to get more water - not before returning some used water to the facilities.
I went to bed at midnight and like last time, I woke up every two hours. However, I was able to go back to sleep, but as 6 AM came, I was up for the day. Still groggy, head-achy, and generally not feeling great. I managed to have some coffee and a muffin. One side effect this time is spells of hiccuping. Out of the blue for no apparent reason and defying all known remedies to make it stop. Very strange indeed.
I'm not expecting tomorrow to be any better, but I'm resigned to the fact that things will get worse before they are better. So I'm ready.
More to come.
When I arrived in the chemo unit, the morning crowd was clearing out. I jumped into station 1. Lucky seven was occupied. I did see a full compliment of nurses: Liz, Ollie, Linda and of course Magoo...err, Roberta. I waited until the first one was free. Ollie came over and arranged all the implements of pain on the table then left. Linda came over and took over. I haven't had her before, but she was great. First time and minimal pain. Ollie returned and hooked me up to the first of my IV bags. The saline solution finished then the anti nausea IV was attached for an hour of dripping. All these fluids quickly passed through my system and were eager to enter the porcelain bowl. As I've learned from my other visits, the drip machine runs on battery back-up so I unplugged it and wheeled it into the restroom. While there I noticed that blood was being back-flushed into the IV. I also noticed that the unit was quiet. Upon returning to my station, I got Ollie's attention and she said, "Oh, this is the unit that needs the battery replaced. No worries, I'll call it in and reset the timer once it's plugged in." Phew, that wasn't as bad as I anticipated. It was now time for the Adriamycin (that beautiful red poison). Just the look of the two huge tubes and now that color (one of my favorites) evoked feelings of anxiety and queasiness. Bring it on and let's get this thing done.
Linda approached and set up shop to administer these tubes manually (like each other time). In chatting with Linda learned that she was originally from Maine, outside of Farmington and she reminisced about how many moose were there in the wild coexisting with the human neighbors. She had moved closer to work, but wishes to move back to 'the country'. Chatting about this and that makes the time fly and certainly took my mind off that poison. Before I new it both tubes were done. I told her before we do the next IV, I needed to make some red water. [Adriamycin makes urine a red-blush color and it's good to get it out of the bladder as soon as possible because of the toxicity.] Linda unplugged the IV machine and let me do my thing. Upon my return, I replaced the AC cord and waited for the next treatment.
Ollie stopped by and with the Cyclophosphamide, the last poison, and connected me and turned on the machine. "This will take about an hour", she said. I settled in and took my cap and covered my eyes. I was almost dozing when I heard a voice behind my chair. Apparently a Dana Farber employee was on a headset providing the serial number to the IV unit needing a battery. She apologized for disturbing me and slipped away. About 40 minutes into this IV, I once again needed to visit the porcelain throne. I disconnected the power and announced my intentions before leaving the unit. Upon my return there seemed to me no one around. I reconnected the power and resumed my position. By this time, Ollie walked by and she said, "Oh ya, you need to be reset." Beep beep beep, I was back on track.
The timer beeped and Ollie said, "You are all done. I just want to flush you with a little more saline for about 5 minutes." Not a problem, I said.
Liz stopped by and said that I was a real trooper and gave be a nice parting gift bag containing, water, hand sanitizer, chap stick, moisturizer, note pad with pen and hard candies. The bag was water-proof and she said was the perfect size for a vanity kleenex box. There was also a hand written note saying, "Hope you feel better". I thanked her and the team. By this point I was all done. I bid adieu and thanked everyone again (even Roberta). Knowing that this stuff was in me only the first part was done. I now have 7-10 days ahead of me.
Arriving home, as expected, I was fuzzy brained, had a headache, really no appetite and little energy. I got my water and sat in my chair and surfed the TV. Not too much gained my interest. I fell asleep and woke up just as the sun was setting. I had my legs crossed so one leg was asleep. I don't know how I managed it but one arm was also asleep. Panic set in and I was having thoughts of stroke, neuropathy, and whatever. However, the limbs began to wake up, but slower than normal. I selected to stay put versus standing up and risking a blacking out. Eventually I mustered enough courage and energy to get more water - not before returning some used water to the facilities.
I went to bed at midnight and like last time, I woke up every two hours. However, I was able to go back to sleep, but as 6 AM came, I was up for the day. Still groggy, head-achy, and generally not feeling great. I managed to have some coffee and a muffin. One side effect this time is spells of hiccuping. Out of the blue for no apparent reason and defying all known remedies to make it stop. Very strange indeed.
I'm not expecting tomorrow to be any better, but I'm resigned to the fact that things will get worse before they are better. So I'm ready.
More to come.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
All systems are go for Chem # 4
The rains of the last few days have passed, along with the muggy weather. Today was bright, clear with relatively low humidity. Dana Farber, Methuen was fairly light with patient activity. I checked in and was soon called for labs, vital checks and was directed into a different examination room. Dr. Mehta is on vacation, so Sandra Creamer, NP fulfilled his duties.
Sandra arrived quickly with some paperwork. She asked a few questions on the status of previously reported side effects and stated that I was doing great in my tolerating the chemo. She checked some vitals (breathing, heart, oral and nasal cavities and my eyes). She was pleased. While looking at my blood test results she said, "Your blood work looks great. Perfect in fact. You would never guess that you were having chemo therapy." [I guess I continue to amaze.] After chatting about the last treatment and 'what's next', she gave me the green like to proceed to Chemo # 4.
I have mixed emotions. I'm really happy that I'm tolerating this, but truly not looking forward to being sick again for 7-10 days. Of course there's the unknown with cumulative effects of chemo and how those may manifest during this round. There's also that underlying fear of future side effects, but I'll have to suppress those fears and relegate them to the risk/concern category - for now.
So tomorrow begins the last round. More to come.
Sandra arrived quickly with some paperwork. She asked a few questions on the status of previously reported side effects and stated that I was doing great in my tolerating the chemo. She checked some vitals (breathing, heart, oral and nasal cavities and my eyes). She was pleased. While looking at my blood test results she said, "Your blood work looks great. Perfect in fact. You would never guess that you were having chemo therapy." [I guess I continue to amaze.] After chatting about the last treatment and 'what's next', she gave me the green like to proceed to Chemo # 4.
I have mixed emotions. I'm really happy that I'm tolerating this, but truly not looking forward to being sick again for 7-10 days. Of course there's the unknown with cumulative effects of chemo and how those may manifest during this round. There's also that underlying fear of future side effects, but I'll have to suppress those fears and relegate them to the risk/concern category - for now.
So tomorrow begins the last round. More to come.
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
End of round three and round four is just days away
I've been enjoying my 'good days' (some better than others, but compared to the 'bad days', no complaints).
I had my follow-up visit with my primary care provider last Friday. I thought I was having a blood test and according to instructions, I had fasted for 14 hours. [Why is it when you have to fast, you get hankerings for snacks in those wee hours of the morning? I resisted the temptation and soldiered on.]
The morning of my appointment I had to skip my morning coffee. Coffee drinkers can empathize and know how 'out of it' a lack of caffeine can cause. Dr. Rees was happy with my vitals and overall progress in my treatments. I had asked where his lab was? They used to be adjacent to his reception desk. He said they are on the first floor now. I added, that I had been fasting and was ready for my blood test. Quizzically, he looked through my electronic folder and said, "You don't need a blood test until February." Looking at my print-out, I could see that I wrote 'fast for 14 hours', but then noticed it was next to the February appointment. [Chemo brain?] Dr. Rees said he'll see me then and wished me continued luck on my treatments and upcoming surgeries (and whatever the Triple A results require). I went to Starbucks and got a venti (large) dark roast - black. Within minutes, the fog began to lift.
The weather continued to cooperate and I decided to undertake little projects here and there. I was even drawn to playing music (guitar) again and hoped that playing would bring better sensation to my thumb and forefinger. Unfortunately, I had not played for a month and my stamina was not up to speed, not to mention my chops. Determined to 'get the rust out' I worked on some intricate fingering and picking exercises which seemed to help a lot. However, after today's session I stopped and noticed that I had developed a blood blister on my ring finger. Not good. Torn calluses are to be expected but a blister is bad news. There's nothing I can do but wait until it heals. This means that it will most likely be another month before I'm wanting to play again. It is what it is. I'll just switch to playing my keyboard.
Tomorrow I have an appointment with Sandra Creamer, Nurse Practitioner. Dr. Mehta is on vacation so Sandra will make the call on my continuing to chemo # 4. Barring abnormal blood test results, I don't anticipate any delay and am planning on (and mentally preparing for) my last round of poisons.
Thanks to ALL for your continued support and encouragement!
More to come.
I had my follow-up visit with my primary care provider last Friday. I thought I was having a blood test and according to instructions, I had fasted for 14 hours. [Why is it when you have to fast, you get hankerings for snacks in those wee hours of the morning? I resisted the temptation and soldiered on.]
The morning of my appointment I had to skip my morning coffee. Coffee drinkers can empathize and know how 'out of it' a lack of caffeine can cause. Dr. Rees was happy with my vitals and overall progress in my treatments. I had asked where his lab was? They used to be adjacent to his reception desk. He said they are on the first floor now. I added, that I had been fasting and was ready for my blood test. Quizzically, he looked through my electronic folder and said, "You don't need a blood test until February." Looking at my print-out, I could see that I wrote 'fast for 14 hours', but then noticed it was next to the February appointment. [Chemo brain?] Dr. Rees said he'll see me then and wished me continued luck on my treatments and upcoming surgeries (and whatever the Triple A results require). I went to Starbucks and got a venti (large) dark roast - black. Within minutes, the fog began to lift.
The weather continued to cooperate and I decided to undertake little projects here and there. I was even drawn to playing music (guitar) again and hoped that playing would bring better sensation to my thumb and forefinger. Unfortunately, I had not played for a month and my stamina was not up to speed, not to mention my chops. Determined to 'get the rust out' I worked on some intricate fingering and picking exercises which seemed to help a lot. However, after today's session I stopped and noticed that I had developed a blood blister on my ring finger. Not good. Torn calluses are to be expected but a blister is bad news. There's nothing I can do but wait until it heals. This means that it will most likely be another month before I'm wanting to play again. It is what it is. I'll just switch to playing my keyboard.
Tomorrow I have an appointment with Sandra Creamer, Nurse Practitioner. Dr. Mehta is on vacation so Sandra will make the call on my continuing to chemo # 4. Barring abnormal blood test results, I don't anticipate any delay and am planning on (and mentally preparing for) my last round of poisons.
Thanks to ALL for your continued support and encouragement!
More to come.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Winding down the last week of Chemo # 3
Life is a tough teacher. It tests first then teaches.
We've all heard the axioms: When you have your health you have everything; You don't know what you got till it's gone; and other apropos phrases and lyrics. One of the many things I've learned through this particular journey is - I find these (sayings, axioms, lyrics) to be so true.
Like round two, chemo # 3 started out as expected - horrible. From the initial feelings of 'here it comes again', and for a good week and a half, I felt miserable. Absolutely no energy or desire to do anything but 'veg-out' in front of the TV. I had some in-house networking tasks to start (the setup of a NAS unit I purchased in June) which under normal situations would make me eager to complete, but I had very little interest in anything but being left alone. With very little appetite, it was the sporadic cravings that gave me sustenance. Even sleeping was a battle initially. However, after some days I was grateful to sleep for periods of up to 12 hours. Not that I wanted to sleep away the short summer, but sleep is what I needed and was the easiest route for me to take.
Also like round two, at mid point I developed a low grade fever. It didn't reach the 'you better call the doctor' level, but after an aspirin or two the following day I began to feel better. So much so, that I began to 'do things' again. I went on an island cruise to the Islands of Shoals out of Rye Harbor, NH.; went to the premier of Rogue Nation (Mission Impossible 5); ate at a few of my favorite restaurants and took some short rides while the nice weather persisted.
Last Thursday, Microsoft release Windows 10. For an early adopter like myself, I was anxiously waiting to get my notification that I could begin the upgrade. Like most Microsoft upgrades, there is a considerable amount of angst expected. There has never been any IT project big or small that hasn't hit some kind of 'snag'. I received a frantic call on Friday that a friend [who isn't that very computer literate] had installed Windows 10 and his 'f*cking computer isn't working right.'
More than a decade ago, I started a side business of fixing PCs and setting up networks, etc. If you recall the Sasser Worm was the 'big thing' that affected most users at the time. I got lots of business as a result of that malicious program. As time went on, I've always been the 'go to guy' for all things computer. Could Windows 10 be the next 'big thing/drama' - maybe.
Timing is everything. Not only was I feeling better and up for the challenge that I dub - PC Wars, I had the time. I spent many hours restoring his PC and reinstalling all his third party app/drivers, but not in time for Monday where he had planned to work remotely. By Monday morning I had things running at 100%. Of course this left him with a bad taste for Windows 10 to which he said, "I'll never upgrade. 8.1 works fine." I'm sure he'll get on the band-wagon eventually.
Feeling invigorated (from an IT knowledge and skills perspective), I ventured into setting up My Cloud (NAS). That took about a day, but I got it up and running. Just in time too. I got my notification that my Windows 10 was ready to be installed. I had three machines that will require this, but I always start with my 'science project'. If things go south, it's not critical that I have that machine up and running. As expected, the actual install was pretty rote, but running it and tweaking the settings took some effort. Beware those that decide to venture forth: make sure you have your third party logins, software keys, etc., handy. Microrsoft doesn't care about those third party apps - you are on your own, as I learned. I'm sure those third party vendors found this out too since the wait for phone support was more than an hour and chat help was closed due to high volume. After a day, I was able to get the machine running - OK. It is a new system and there are so many things to learn and try. I do like these projects and as I said, timing is everything. And while I'm feeling good and have the time I'm happy and appreciative of having good health. I haven't watched TV for a few days! Radical.
I'm basking in my 'good days' and am very thankful for them. Next chemo is scheduled for next Thursday. In the meantime I'll be seeing my primary care for a 'maintenance' visit on Friday. I hope he doesn't find anything to burst my feel-good bubble.
Enjoying life!
We've all heard the axioms: When you have your health you have everything; You don't know what you got till it's gone; and other apropos phrases and lyrics. One of the many things I've learned through this particular journey is - I find these (sayings, axioms, lyrics) to be so true.
Like round two, chemo # 3 started out as expected - horrible. From the initial feelings of 'here it comes again', and for a good week and a half, I felt miserable. Absolutely no energy or desire to do anything but 'veg-out' in front of the TV. I had some in-house networking tasks to start (the setup of a NAS unit I purchased in June) which under normal situations would make me eager to complete, but I had very little interest in anything but being left alone. With very little appetite, it was the sporadic cravings that gave me sustenance. Even sleeping was a battle initially. However, after some days I was grateful to sleep for periods of up to 12 hours. Not that I wanted to sleep away the short summer, but sleep is what I needed and was the easiest route for me to take.
Also like round two, at mid point I developed a low grade fever. It didn't reach the 'you better call the doctor' level, but after an aspirin or two the following day I began to feel better. So much so, that I began to 'do things' again. I went on an island cruise to the Islands of Shoals out of Rye Harbor, NH.; went to the premier of Rogue Nation (Mission Impossible 5); ate at a few of my favorite restaurants and took some short rides while the nice weather persisted.
Last Thursday, Microsoft release Windows 10. For an early adopter like myself, I was anxiously waiting to get my notification that I could begin the upgrade. Like most Microsoft upgrades, there is a considerable amount of angst expected. There has never been any IT project big or small that hasn't hit some kind of 'snag'. I received a frantic call on Friday that a friend [who isn't that very computer literate] had installed Windows 10 and his 'f*cking computer isn't working right.'
More than a decade ago, I started a side business of fixing PCs and setting up networks, etc. If you recall the Sasser Worm was the 'big thing' that affected most users at the time. I got lots of business as a result of that malicious program. As time went on, I've always been the 'go to guy' for all things computer. Could Windows 10 be the next 'big thing/drama' - maybe.
Timing is everything. Not only was I feeling better and up for the challenge that I dub - PC Wars, I had the time. I spent many hours restoring his PC and reinstalling all his third party app/drivers, but not in time for Monday where he had planned to work remotely. By Monday morning I had things running at 100%. Of course this left him with a bad taste for Windows 10 to which he said, "I'll never upgrade. 8.1 works fine." I'm sure he'll get on the band-wagon eventually.
Feeling invigorated (from an IT knowledge and skills perspective), I ventured into setting up My Cloud (NAS). That took about a day, but I got it up and running. Just in time too. I got my notification that my Windows 10 was ready to be installed. I had three machines that will require this, but I always start with my 'science project'. If things go south, it's not critical that I have that machine up and running. As expected, the actual install was pretty rote, but running it and tweaking the settings took some effort. Beware those that decide to venture forth: make sure you have your third party logins, software keys, etc., handy. Microrsoft doesn't care about those third party apps - you are on your own, as I learned. I'm sure those third party vendors found this out too since the wait for phone support was more than an hour and chat help was closed due to high volume. After a day, I was able to get the machine running - OK. It is a new system and there are so many things to learn and try. I do like these projects and as I said, timing is everything. And while I'm feeling good and have the time I'm happy and appreciative of having good health. I haven't watched TV for a few days! Radical.
I'm basking in my 'good days' and am very thankful for them. Next chemo is scheduled for next Thursday. In the meantime I'll be seeing my primary care for a 'maintenance' visit on Friday. I hope he doesn't find anything to burst my feel-good bubble.
Enjoying life!
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Five days into Chemo # 3
Everyone has been great with the support and understanding I need to get through this. Thank you.
This round of chemo has been the same in some aspects and different in others. Like other treatments, I've been lucky to avoid the nausea and the need to take prescriptions to combat - if and when it rears its ugly head. Last time I didn't have the lingering headache immediately following chemo, but this time I did. Not debilitating, but nagging. Enough so that I really haven't been hungry. I have had cravings, but the 'normal things' like a salad, I've been steering clear of. I'm so glad that tomatoes freeze well (for later cooking). However, Romaine needs to be chucked. I'm glad there wasn't that much that needed to be thrown out. I'm now on a cooked vegetable kick, so those frozen tomatoes will make an appearance I'm certain.
I'm so sick of flavored water. I have at least a dozen cherry and limeade whose red color looks so much like the Adriamycin, that I'm tempted to chuck those so I won't be reminded of this terrible poison. I've been able to 'stomach' Fruit2O, but I'm down to just the lemon flavor only. I drank one the other day and it felt like I had hair in my mouth. [Gross alert] I soon found out that my mouth lining was sloughing as a result of the acid in the lemon drink. I did pick up some ginger ale today as well as Newman's pink lemonade.
As to be expected, I'm exhausted. I was disheartened this time because my sleep patterns were disrupted for a few days. I'd go to bed at 11 PM and then be wide awake at 2 AM for a number of days in succession. Not having lots of energy, I assumed the couch potato position and partook in an endless diet of Law and Order. Not a bad show, but the commercials - especially in those off hours, are really too much. Sue me, sue you, sue the hospital, sue the drug companies, sue Sue. Enough. It's no wonder there's a spike in post traumatic stress. Maddening. At least I can pause live TV and accumulate enough of a buffer to zip through the commercials until I space it and change the channel - effectively loosing my buffer and half the unwatched show. [Insert expletive here.] Around Sunday, I broke the sleepless pattern and started a new regimen of sleeping for almost 12 hours straight. At least the day goes by faster and quicker to my 'good days'.
The body is trying like hell to repair itself. There are some casualties. My poor right arm is bruised and painful in places as a result of the chemo being pushed through my veins. My 'oopsies' are quite visible [Thanks Roberta - hope you got your prescription updated.] My two finger neuropathy continues. The tingling in the feet also continues, but intermittent. My hair appears to be trying to grow back, albeit slowly. I haven't seen any different colors and my beard is still quite light - requiring a shave only once or twice a week. I'm maintaining my weight. I gain a pound - then lose a pound, but have maintained a fairly steady weight. I'm religious about taking my temperature and that seems to be fairly consistent too. I'm still regular (no doubt as a result of my cooked vegetables kick).
I'm hopeful that each day will be better going forward. Thursday marks one week. If this is like last time, I should be seeing noticeable changes by the weekend. We are scheduled for our first heat wave in two years and it's supposed to be extended. It would be nice to be able to take advantage of the weather to enjoy some time by the shore (lake, ocean or pools side).
Keep cool. More to come.
This round of chemo has been the same in some aspects and different in others. Like other treatments, I've been lucky to avoid the nausea and the need to take prescriptions to combat - if and when it rears its ugly head. Last time I didn't have the lingering headache immediately following chemo, but this time I did. Not debilitating, but nagging. Enough so that I really haven't been hungry. I have had cravings, but the 'normal things' like a salad, I've been steering clear of. I'm so glad that tomatoes freeze well (for later cooking). However, Romaine needs to be chucked. I'm glad there wasn't that much that needed to be thrown out. I'm now on a cooked vegetable kick, so those frozen tomatoes will make an appearance I'm certain.
I'm so sick of flavored water. I have at least a dozen cherry and limeade whose red color looks so much like the Adriamycin, that I'm tempted to chuck those so I won't be reminded of this terrible poison. I've been able to 'stomach' Fruit2O, but I'm down to just the lemon flavor only. I drank one the other day and it felt like I had hair in my mouth. [Gross alert] I soon found out that my mouth lining was sloughing as a result of the acid in the lemon drink. I did pick up some ginger ale today as well as Newman's pink lemonade.
As to be expected, I'm exhausted. I was disheartened this time because my sleep patterns were disrupted for a few days. I'd go to bed at 11 PM and then be wide awake at 2 AM for a number of days in succession. Not having lots of energy, I assumed the couch potato position and partook in an endless diet of Law and Order. Not a bad show, but the commercials - especially in those off hours, are really too much. Sue me, sue you, sue the hospital, sue the drug companies, sue Sue. Enough. It's no wonder there's a spike in post traumatic stress. Maddening. At least I can pause live TV and accumulate enough of a buffer to zip through the commercials until I space it and change the channel - effectively loosing my buffer and half the unwatched show. [Insert expletive here.] Around Sunday, I broke the sleepless pattern and started a new regimen of sleeping for almost 12 hours straight. At least the day goes by faster and quicker to my 'good days'.
The body is trying like hell to repair itself. There are some casualties. My poor right arm is bruised and painful in places as a result of the chemo being pushed through my veins. My 'oopsies' are quite visible [Thanks Roberta - hope you got your prescription updated.] My two finger neuropathy continues. The tingling in the feet also continues, but intermittent. My hair appears to be trying to grow back, albeit slowly. I haven't seen any different colors and my beard is still quite light - requiring a shave only once or twice a week. I'm maintaining my weight. I gain a pound - then lose a pound, but have maintained a fairly steady weight. I'm religious about taking my temperature and that seems to be fairly consistent too. I'm still regular (no doubt as a result of my cooked vegetables kick).
I'm hopeful that each day will be better going forward. Thursday marks one week. If this is like last time, I should be seeing noticeable changes by the weekend. We are scheduled for our first heat wave in two years and it's supposed to be extended. It would be nice to be able to take advantage of the weather to enjoy some time by the shore (lake, ocean or pools side).
Keep cool. More to come.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Chemo # 3
Those good old days
I was happy to have enjoyed a string of 'good' days since July 13th. I was able to: attend an outdoor concert (4EverFab); head to a few beaches and lakes; enjoy some cook-outs; and even try a few of my favorite restaurants.
Last evening I trekked down to Quincy (nearly 3 hours due to it being during rush hour) and met former RMV/MassDOT colleagues/friends to celebrate the recent retirement of three women I have known and worked with for 25 years. It was a great time. The weather was perfect, the location was gorgeous, the food was fabulous and the company - like coming home to family. It was so good to reconnect and provided a fitting closure to the end of my 'good' days - for awhile, anyway.
Needing to get up earlier than I had been, I set the alarm and made sure I got to bed early. Of course, I didn't sleep well. I woke up an hour before the alarm and decided to start my day. I was dreading this round of chemo. Since round two was worse than round one, why would round three break the pattern. All one can do is expect the best and prepare for the worst.
Getting the approval to proceed
I arrived early for my appointment, however, I was taken right away for my vitals check. My weight was the same, but my pressure was a little high. [I attribute this to my being anxious and not having a good night's sleep. But I'm no doctor, I just play one on TV.] I was asked to return to waiting room until the doctor arrived. I had brought the morning paper and upon finishing it my name was called. I was led to that 'all too familiar' examination room.
Dr. Mehta arrived shortly thereafter and got right to work. He said that my tests results were normal. He also mentioned that my liver was doing fine. [I don't recall any conversations about my liver, but I suppose the 'poison' would affect all organs. I'm glad that he is doing his due diligence in checking my vital organs for their tolerance.]
Going through his list, Dr. Mehta asked for a status update on expected side effects and those that have been self reported. I had mentioned that I did experience 'tingling' in the balls of both feet after mowing the lawn, yesterday. He asked if it was intermittent and I said yes. He asked how the numbness to my forefinger and thumb was doing. I said, "It's still there, but has lessened a bit. However, I recall that at the end of the last chemo that had also happened, but worsened as the chemo was being 'processed' by my body." He typed in some notes to the file.
Dr. Mehta then examined my breathing, heart beat and felt my neck glands. He then said, "You continue to amaze me. You are cleared for the next chemo." With mixed emotions I replied, "Yay".
He scheduled a follow-up and also a tentative date for chemo # 4 - August 13th. [Where did the summer go?] He shook my hand and said, "Good luck."
Prick a vein - any vein (or two, or three)
Entering the Chemo Unit, I had hoped to find my lucky station 7 available. But as fate would have it, station 8 was the only vacancy. It's located in the corner away from the windows and (to me) seemed to be darker and more conducive to napping while being injected. [Sounds like an arrestable offense - NWI.] I made myself comfortable and waited for the nurse. I was hoping for Liz, but didn't see her on the floor. Not too long after, Roberta looking at both patient number 7 and me said, "Which of you were here first?" Being truthful, I said, "She was here first." [I did have ulterior motives. Roberta was the nurse I had last time that said she "has bifocals and always looks over them". I still had the bruise from her 'oopsie' and really didn't want her using me as a pin cushion again.] Well as the luck of # 8 had it, she was 'ready for me'. OK, maybe she was having a bad day last time. Maybe she has new glasses. Maybe she'll look through them.
After Roberta tied off my arm and circulation she was feeling for veins to use. My vein from chemo #1 was still tender. I suggested using the vein we ended up with last time. She said, "Well I was looking at this vein, but maybe your suggestion would be better." She tapped and rubbed and swabbed then got ready to prick. I don't like watching that part so I looked away. It was uncomfortable and I told her so. She said, "Why is it so dark over here?". We looked up in unison and saw that a light bulb needed to be replaced. [Hindsight is 20/20 - I should have been more insistent in moving to a better lit station or waited until the bulb was replaced.] She poked more and finally 'got in'. But it still didn't feel right to me. Not that there's any thing right about pointy steel jabbed in your arm. [I suppose unless you are a junkie - which my arm could pass for.] I was taped (more than sufficiently) and hooked up to the first of four bags of liquids.
A few hours into this, it was now time for the real poison (Adriamycin). This is so toxic that it has to be administered manually so it can be stopped if something goes wrong. Ollie was doing the honors, and it wasn't too long before I reported that something just didn't seem right. The area was beginning to turn red and there was some discomfort (more than I had been having). She immediately stopped the chemo and began flushing with a saline solution, hoping that the redness would dissipate. Roberta stopped by and said, "We'll have to try another vein." [For joy!]
The bags of poison were quickly removed from the table and new jabbing tools were brought out. Once again my arm was tied off and the rubbing, tapping and pressing began. With a new needle she said, "Let's try this one." No luck there. "Now, let's try this." She began looking up my arm and said she could use the vein they've been tapping for my blood tests. I got my phone out and ran my flashlight app. "Oh that is helpful", she said. [Why did I not think of this earlier?] She was in and it 'felt' right. [Why does that sound odd?]
We were cooking with gas. If my vein were a gold mine, this vein is the mother-load. [Sorry to mix metaphors - but I have chemo brain.] The blood flow was excellent. The poison was 'finished' and the last two bags of fluids were set on auto pilot. We finished up at around 1 PM.
Home now and just waiting for the progression. Head is cloudy and am feeling kind of blah.
More to come.
I was happy to have enjoyed a string of 'good' days since July 13th. I was able to: attend an outdoor concert (4EverFab); head to a few beaches and lakes; enjoy some cook-outs; and even try a few of my favorite restaurants.
Last evening I trekked down to Quincy (nearly 3 hours due to it being during rush hour) and met former RMV/MassDOT colleagues/friends to celebrate the recent retirement of three women I have known and worked with for 25 years. It was a great time. The weather was perfect, the location was gorgeous, the food was fabulous and the company - like coming home to family. It was so good to reconnect and provided a fitting closure to the end of my 'good' days - for awhile, anyway.
Needing to get up earlier than I had been, I set the alarm and made sure I got to bed early. Of course, I didn't sleep well. I woke up an hour before the alarm and decided to start my day. I was dreading this round of chemo. Since round two was worse than round one, why would round three break the pattern. All one can do is expect the best and prepare for the worst.
Getting the approval to proceed
I arrived early for my appointment, however, I was taken right away for my vitals check. My weight was the same, but my pressure was a little high. [I attribute this to my being anxious and not having a good night's sleep. But I'm no doctor, I just play one on TV.] I was asked to return to waiting room until the doctor arrived. I had brought the morning paper and upon finishing it my name was called. I was led to that 'all too familiar' examination room.
Dr. Mehta arrived shortly thereafter and got right to work. He said that my tests results were normal. He also mentioned that my liver was doing fine. [I don't recall any conversations about my liver, but I suppose the 'poison' would affect all organs. I'm glad that he is doing his due diligence in checking my vital organs for their tolerance.]
Going through his list, Dr. Mehta asked for a status update on expected side effects and those that have been self reported. I had mentioned that I did experience 'tingling' in the balls of both feet after mowing the lawn, yesterday. He asked if it was intermittent and I said yes. He asked how the numbness to my forefinger and thumb was doing. I said, "It's still there, but has lessened a bit. However, I recall that at the end of the last chemo that had also happened, but worsened as the chemo was being 'processed' by my body." He typed in some notes to the file.
Dr. Mehta then examined my breathing, heart beat and felt my neck glands. He then said, "You continue to amaze me. You are cleared for the next chemo." With mixed emotions I replied, "Yay".
He scheduled a follow-up and also a tentative date for chemo # 4 - August 13th. [Where did the summer go?] He shook my hand and said, "Good luck."
Prick a vein - any vein (or two, or three)
Entering the Chemo Unit, I had hoped to find my lucky station 7 available. But as fate would have it, station 8 was the only vacancy. It's located in the corner away from the windows and (to me) seemed to be darker and more conducive to napping while being injected. [Sounds like an arrestable offense - NWI.] I made myself comfortable and waited for the nurse. I was hoping for Liz, but didn't see her on the floor. Not too long after, Roberta looking at both patient number 7 and me said, "Which of you were here first?" Being truthful, I said, "She was here first." [I did have ulterior motives. Roberta was the nurse I had last time that said she "has bifocals and always looks over them". I still had the bruise from her 'oopsie' and really didn't want her using me as a pin cushion again.] Well as the luck of # 8 had it, she was 'ready for me'. OK, maybe she was having a bad day last time. Maybe she has new glasses. Maybe she'll look through them.
After Roberta tied off my arm and circulation she was feeling for veins to use. My vein from chemo #1 was still tender. I suggested using the vein we ended up with last time. She said, "Well I was looking at this vein, but maybe your suggestion would be better." She tapped and rubbed and swabbed then got ready to prick. I don't like watching that part so I looked away. It was uncomfortable and I told her so. She said, "Why is it so dark over here?". We looked up in unison and saw that a light bulb needed to be replaced. [Hindsight is 20/20 - I should have been more insistent in moving to a better lit station or waited until the bulb was replaced.] She poked more and finally 'got in'. But it still didn't feel right to me. Not that there's any thing right about pointy steel jabbed in your arm. [I suppose unless you are a junkie - which my arm could pass for.] I was taped (more than sufficiently) and hooked up to the first of four bags of liquids.
A few hours into this, it was now time for the real poison (Adriamycin). This is so toxic that it has to be administered manually so it can be stopped if something goes wrong. Ollie was doing the honors, and it wasn't too long before I reported that something just didn't seem right. The area was beginning to turn red and there was some discomfort (more than I had been having). She immediately stopped the chemo and began flushing with a saline solution, hoping that the redness would dissipate. Roberta stopped by and said, "We'll have to try another vein." [For joy!]
The bags of poison were quickly removed from the table and new jabbing tools were brought out. Once again my arm was tied off and the rubbing, tapping and pressing began. With a new needle she said, "Let's try this one." No luck there. "Now, let's try this." She began looking up my arm and said she could use the vein they've been tapping for my blood tests. I got my phone out and ran my flashlight app. "Oh that is helpful", she said. [Why did I not think of this earlier?] She was in and it 'felt' right. [Why does that sound odd?]
We were cooking with gas. If my vein were a gold mine, this vein is the mother-load. [Sorry to mix metaphors - but I have chemo brain.] The blood flow was excellent. The poison was 'finished' and the last two bags of fluids were set on auto pilot. We finished up at around 1 PM.
Home now and just waiting for the progression. Head is cloudy and am feeling kind of blah.
More to come.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Chemo # 2 check-in with Dr Mehta
Days leading up to the appointment
I must admit that my battle with fatigue has been the centerpiece of chemo #2. I was warned by Dr Mehta that the cumulative effect of the chemo will amplify those I'm most affected by. Boy he wasn't kidding. However, this time that period seemed to start on July 4th and gained strength before tapering off Sunday, July 12th. The worst was between Monday and Saturday. It's possible that may have been shortened if I had not ventured to mow the lawn on the Thursday, the 9th.
During chemo # 1, I had visited Dr Mehta a week from the treatment. That day seemed to be the first good day, so I thought that the 'week-i-versay' was safe. The things we learn by trying.
Last Thursday was cooler and dryer. The grass really needed mowing and I was feeling OK. Energy levels generally are good in the morning so - to me - why not try? Honestly, while mowing, I still felt OK. It wasn't until I was done and put the mower away that it hit me. I was dizzy and almost to the point of passing out. My peripheral vision was hazy and I had just enough energy to 'collapse' my upper body onto my shed. I never lost consciousness but really wanted to get inside to sit. I managed to stagger onto my three seasons porch and sit.
[This short jaunt was very reminiscent of my being quite intoxicated [during college of course] where I felt like I was a third party in my body and I was just hoping that I'd make my destination.]
It took me a good half hour before I was able to get into the house and rehydrate. [Yes, yes to all those that had offered to help and I had said no. I should have taken you up on it.] That stunt really wiped me out and I paid for it the rest of the day and into Friday.
Yesterday (Monday, July 13th), was a great day. I had energy, felt wonderful and was so pleased to have broken the fatigue. I was able to catch up on some household chores and still have energy to do some cerebral tasks. Very uplifting and encouraging.
Today I don't feel quite as 'good' as yesterday, but I do know that I'll be on a pattern of good and bad days for a while. Prior to my check-in today, I made a grocery run. I finally got my shrimp ;-)
[I asked for a pound and a half when clearly a pound was plenty. So I'll be having shrimp for a few days.]
Appointment Day
When I arrived for my appointment at Dana Farber - Methuen, it was threatening to rain. At the entrance I was greeted with a waft of second hand smoke from a patient smoking next to a "This is a non-smoking campus" sign. Although I wanted to, I said nothing.
At check-in I got my wrist band, quickly had my blood drawn and was soon called back for my vitals. I had lost 5 pounds of that water weight and my pressure was 130/80 - not bad at all. I was asked to wait to be called when the examination room opened up. It wasn't long before I heard my name before being led to a familiar room.
Dr. Mehta arrived after a brief period and began asking about my side effects. I had said that fatigue was the biggest. He asked about stomach pains, nausea, spasms, constipation, numbness and fever.
I said, "I'm still regular and luckily nausea-free. Other than the fatigue, the most notable side effects were: stomach cramps; lack of appetite; lingering numbness in the forefinger and thumb; and intermittent numbness in my toes/feet."
I told him the cramps appeared to be related to gas that I had experienced this time. He asked if I had experienced any mucositis or sores. I had mentioned that I experienced a sloughing of skin in my mouth. He interjected with, "Any sores?" I said, no.
Dr Mehta asked about the intermittent numbness in my feet to which I added, "I noticed that when I'm standing stationary for a period of time, I get the sensation that my feet are falling or have fallen asleep and I get that 'pins and needles' feeling. When I move, it seems to go way." He had no explanation but recorded this in the notes.
He said, "You continue to amaze me." Quizzically, I asked, "How so?" He said while turning the laptop toward me, "You are on your second round of chemo and your white and red blood cell counts are near normal." He showed me a table of data that shows a fairly consistent range. He said, "This is good. You don't need a booster." [I'll take all the praise I can garner at this point.]
He asked about the dermatitis (which has since completely cleared) and if I had had a sore throat. "Knock on wood, no sore throat." He asked - charlie horse? I mentioned that I had one episode but it was because I had not eaten a banana. He entered more notes.
He checked my glands, lungs/breathing and heart. He smiled before saying, "You're good for the next round of chemo, next Thursday." Shaking his hand I said, "I'll be more than half done at that time."
I'm hopin that my good days coincide with the good weather predicted for this weekend and hope to take part in some summer recreation before it slips away.
Thanks to all my family, friends, former co-workers and blog readers for your support, concerns, offers of help and prayers.
I must admit that my battle with fatigue has been the centerpiece of chemo #2. I was warned by Dr Mehta that the cumulative effect of the chemo will amplify those I'm most affected by. Boy he wasn't kidding. However, this time that period seemed to start on July 4th and gained strength before tapering off Sunday, July 12th. The worst was between Monday and Saturday. It's possible that may have been shortened if I had not ventured to mow the lawn on the Thursday, the 9th.
During chemo # 1, I had visited Dr Mehta a week from the treatment. That day seemed to be the first good day, so I thought that the 'week-i-versay' was safe. The things we learn by trying.
Last Thursday was cooler and dryer. The grass really needed mowing and I was feeling OK. Energy levels generally are good in the morning so - to me - why not try? Honestly, while mowing, I still felt OK. It wasn't until I was done and put the mower away that it hit me. I was dizzy and almost to the point of passing out. My peripheral vision was hazy and I had just enough energy to 'collapse' my upper body onto my shed. I never lost consciousness but really wanted to get inside to sit. I managed to stagger onto my three seasons porch and sit.
[This short jaunt was very reminiscent of my being quite intoxicated [during college of course] where I felt like I was a third party in my body and I was just hoping that I'd make my destination.]
It took me a good half hour before I was able to get into the house and rehydrate. [Yes, yes to all those that had offered to help and I had said no. I should have taken you up on it.] That stunt really wiped me out and I paid for it the rest of the day and into Friday.
Yesterday (Monday, July 13th), was a great day. I had energy, felt wonderful and was so pleased to have broken the fatigue. I was able to catch up on some household chores and still have energy to do some cerebral tasks. Very uplifting and encouraging.
Today I don't feel quite as 'good' as yesterday, but I do know that I'll be on a pattern of good and bad days for a while. Prior to my check-in today, I made a grocery run. I finally got my shrimp ;-)
[I asked for a pound and a half when clearly a pound was plenty. So I'll be having shrimp for a few days.]
Appointment Day
When I arrived for my appointment at Dana Farber - Methuen, it was threatening to rain. At the entrance I was greeted with a waft of second hand smoke from a patient smoking next to a "This is a non-smoking campus" sign. Although I wanted to, I said nothing.
At check-in I got my wrist band, quickly had my blood drawn and was soon called back for my vitals. I had lost 5 pounds of that water weight and my pressure was 130/80 - not bad at all. I was asked to wait to be called when the examination room opened up. It wasn't long before I heard my name before being led to a familiar room.
Dr. Mehta arrived after a brief period and began asking about my side effects. I had said that fatigue was the biggest. He asked about stomach pains, nausea, spasms, constipation, numbness and fever.
I said, "I'm still regular and luckily nausea-free. Other than the fatigue, the most notable side effects were: stomach cramps; lack of appetite; lingering numbness in the forefinger and thumb; and intermittent numbness in my toes/feet."
I told him the cramps appeared to be related to gas that I had experienced this time. He asked if I had experienced any mucositis or sores. I had mentioned that I experienced a sloughing of skin in my mouth. He interjected with, "Any sores?" I said, no.
Dr Mehta asked about the intermittent numbness in my feet to which I added, "I noticed that when I'm standing stationary for a period of time, I get the sensation that my feet are falling or have fallen asleep and I get that 'pins and needles' feeling. When I move, it seems to go way." He had no explanation but recorded this in the notes.
He said, "You continue to amaze me." Quizzically, I asked, "How so?" He said while turning the laptop toward me, "You are on your second round of chemo and your white and red blood cell counts are near normal." He showed me a table of data that shows a fairly consistent range. He said, "This is good. You don't need a booster." [I'll take all the praise I can garner at this point.]
He asked about the dermatitis (which has since completely cleared) and if I had had a sore throat. "Knock on wood, no sore throat." He asked - charlie horse? I mentioned that I had one episode but it was because I had not eaten a banana. He entered more notes.
He checked my glands, lungs/breathing and heart. He smiled before saying, "You're good for the next round of chemo, next Thursday." Shaking his hand I said, "I'll be more than half done at that time."
I'm hopin that my good days coincide with the good weather predicted for this weekend and hope to take part in some summer recreation before it slips away.
Thanks to all my family, friends, former co-workers and blog readers for your support, concerns, offers of help and prayers.
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