Had my 8th radiation treatment today. In actuality, it should have been #9, but Leap Year Day (Feb. 29th) was a "snow day", and so I cancelled my appointment, along with most all other radiation patients. I was told that only two showed up that day. So that day would have been #5, which pushed my schedule back one day. Only completed radiation treatments #3 - 6 the past week.
L had to get the backhoe charged up, before he could run it to remove the snow from the driveway, which is about 600 ft. long. And it was heavy, HEAVY snow, big and fluffy and extremely "wet" and sticky. The kind of snow that is perfect for making snow men. But the kind of snow that causes grown men to have heart attacks when they have a shovelful of it to toss to the side, and then another shovelful and another and ... L's area received about 8 - 10" in that snowfall, and maybe 2 - 4" in two subsequent snowfalls.
The radiation treatments have had no noticeable side effects thus far. I am told that those will appear around week #3 or so, and will continue for some time AFTER treatment #25 ends (my last one, but who's counting?).
Guess I should explain the "procedure" this treatment follows: you are led into a room which is dominated by a hard-surfaced table, with large, imposing machinery surrounding it. You are told to slip off your footwear and drop your pants. Yes, folks, they did not even mention that a changing room, complete with the expected gown, IS available if you so choose. Now, my first visit included two women and one man in the room, besides myself. I am NOT used to removing my clothes in front of strangers, and DEFINITELY not in front of a man whom I had never even seen before. Even before a gynecological exam, you are left alone in a room, to change into one of those one-size-fits-all "gowns". I am 5' 3", and weigh about 110 - 112 pounds, so those are some pretty generous cover-ups.
As you can imagine, this was pretty intimidating. Then you clamber aboard this table, and they carefully align your tattoos with some laser beams, so they have you in the expected position before they begin zapping you. Did I mention that, as part of my initial visit, when they did the CT scans, that they also stuck needles into my abdomen and hips - 3 places in all - to permanently tattoo me? You are allowed to keep your skivvies on UNTIL you are on this table, then they drape something about the size of a cloth dinner napkin over your "privates" (just barely covered, believe me), and tell you to lower your drawers towards your knees. Yup, any vestiges of modesty, gone. In front of three strangers, or sometimes only TWO strangers. I am told that there are six radiation techs, plus one trainee/student/whatever. In the first three visits, I could swear that I saw MORE than that number. Two have been male.
By treatment number #4, I was ready to do some serious "dumping" on the staff, telling them I could NOT possibly be the only person with serious misgivings about undressing in front of the staff. And THEN, and ONLY then, was I told that, yes, Virginia, there IS a changing room, if I so desired to use one. Yeah, after everybody AND his brother has seen me semi-nude. Big, BIG help. Uh-huh.
So now this is something that I steel myself for, undressing in front of a roomful of strangers. Still unpleasant. Not liking it.
Some "fun" developments: I am having some hair re-growth on my head. Little bit of peach fuzz, which will soon disappear when I resume chemo in April. So, in reality, this is a "tease", but still nice to see that I might re-grow my hair someday. My last chemo was between 5 and 6 weeks ago, so that might give me a target date to look forward to, following my 6th chemo, which will be about the end of May or so. At the rate of hair growth quoted me - 1/2" a month - I will have a whopping 3" of hair by year's end. Another winter to freeze thru...
Have I mentioned that the hair in my nose is also gone? Trust me when I say, I must carry around a kleenex, because once I feel that my nose is running - from eating spicy foods, or triggered by the cold weather up here in Frostbite Falls - I must catch the drips immediately, or risk looking like a toddler with a bad cold.
My eyelashes have thinned considerably, and also my eyebrows, but they are hangin' in there. Also, the hair on my forearms remains. The "peach fuzz" on my face is falling out, but has been slow to do so.
I am so tired of looking so ugly. So, so, tired, so demoralizing. I hate myself, I hate having to deal with a wig. I hope that someone, somewhere, gets something positive out of these posts. I try to stay upbeat, but it ain't easy.
Thanks for reading, once again.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Just a lazy blogger...
Not much to update, healthwise.
Had CT scans last week on the 15th. This is in preparation for the radiation treatments. The good news is that NOTHING unusual or unexpected showed up in those. So now what DO they target? Apparently this is a preventative round, zapping those areas where cancer WAS found - the now-missing uterus and its small relative, the now-removed lymph node which was positive. According to the doc and to the literature, I will pay a pretty big price for this preventative therapy - at least temporary bladder and bowel problems, and some PERMANENT damage to my vagina. Which I must admit, works VERY well now. I am sure that you will suffer thru my rants when these side effects become obvious and (I am told) painful.
I messaged back-and-forth on FB with a friend who went thru radiation a few years ago, after surgery to remove cancer from his oral cavity and jaw (and no, he NEVER smoked nor chewed tobacco). I mentioned the good results of the CT scans and mused whether I should/would go forward with the radiation. His response was basically that this was a tough call. After his surgery, his docs as well as this same radiation oncologist, advised him that his chances of going WITHOUT radiation and being cancer-free were in the 80 - 90% range. And then, 4 weeks after his surgery, he was diagnosed with a recurrence of that cancer. At which point, he said, radiation was no longer an option.
So I am going forward with the "plan" which will probably, from what I am told, bring my sex life to a screeching halt around the 3-week mark of treatments. Something to look forward to, eh? I hope to recover from the scarring (apparently this is a given) enough to resume some decent lovin'. Will be a painful process to get there.
On a positive note: made it to Florida, to the RV park, for about two weeks. Headed out on the road the day after chemo #3, which was on Jan. 25th. Took our time getting to that RV park, arriving on the afternoon of the 28th. And so, SO enjoyed the warm weather, mostly days in the 70's and 80's. Ahhh... sunshine SO improves the attitude. It was nice to see so many of the Florida bunch, and we enjoyed socializing with many. Then, we reluctantly headed back Feb.11th, arriving the 13th.
Had a nice, extended lunch/chatfest with 3 high school galpals on Valentine's Day. That's ONE way to assure that we get a meal out, on that sweethearts day! Was fun to reconnect with that bunch.
Northern MN, which had pretty much been snow-free and BROWN, decided to emulate winter weather, dumping a few inches of snow on us. Temps are still not TOO bad, hanging in the mid-30's today. Long-range forecast is for a FEW chilly days in the low 20's and teens for highs, but I am thankful that it has NOT been any worse. Hope I can suffer thru the last dregs of winter weather ok. I will have to be driving in the next several weeks (5 weeks of radiation), so I hope to dodge the weather bullet.
Update complete! Catch up with you later.
Had CT scans last week on the 15th. This is in preparation for the radiation treatments. The good news is that NOTHING unusual or unexpected showed up in those. So now what DO they target? Apparently this is a preventative round, zapping those areas where cancer WAS found - the now-missing uterus and its small relative, the now-removed lymph node which was positive. According to the doc and to the literature, I will pay a pretty big price for this preventative therapy - at least temporary bladder and bowel problems, and some PERMANENT damage to my vagina. Which I must admit, works VERY well now. I am sure that you will suffer thru my rants when these side effects become obvious and (I am told) painful.
I messaged back-and-forth on FB with a friend who went thru radiation a few years ago, after surgery to remove cancer from his oral cavity and jaw (and no, he NEVER smoked nor chewed tobacco). I mentioned the good results of the CT scans and mused whether I should/would go forward with the radiation. His response was basically that this was a tough call. After his surgery, his docs as well as this same radiation oncologist, advised him that his chances of going WITHOUT radiation and being cancer-free were in the 80 - 90% range. And then, 4 weeks after his surgery, he was diagnosed with a recurrence of that cancer. At which point, he said, radiation was no longer an option.
So I am going forward with the "plan" which will probably, from what I am told, bring my sex life to a screeching halt around the 3-week mark of treatments. Something to look forward to, eh? I hope to recover from the scarring (apparently this is a given) enough to resume some decent lovin'. Will be a painful process to get there.
On a positive note: made it to Florida, to the RV park, for about two weeks. Headed out on the road the day after chemo #3, which was on Jan. 25th. Took our time getting to that RV park, arriving on the afternoon of the 28th. And so, SO enjoyed the warm weather, mostly days in the 70's and 80's. Ahhh... sunshine SO improves the attitude. It was nice to see so many of the Florida bunch, and we enjoyed socializing with many. Then, we reluctantly headed back Feb.11th, arriving the 13th.
Had a nice, extended lunch/chatfest with 3 high school galpals on Valentine's Day. That's ONE way to assure that we get a meal out, on that sweethearts day! Was fun to reconnect with that bunch.
Northern MN, which had pretty much been snow-free and BROWN, decided to emulate winter weather, dumping a few inches of snow on us. Temps are still not TOO bad, hanging in the mid-30's today. Long-range forecast is for a FEW chilly days in the low 20's and teens for highs, but I am thankful that it has NOT been any worse. Hope I can suffer thru the last dregs of winter weather ok. I will have to be driving in the next several weeks (5 weeks of radiation), so I hope to dodge the weather bullet.
Update complete! Catch up with you later.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
The good news just keeps on comin'
So... met with the radiation oncologist this morning. And I am so, SO looking forward to that process wreaking additional damage on my body.
Here's what will happen: I will have an initial CT scan, so they can identify anything that they think will need radiation. Now this is NOT an ordinary CT scan, since it will also involve a vaginal CT scan. Having experienced a vaginal ultrasound recently, I can tell you that I am NOT looking forward to having another "vaginal" anything done. All dignity, all privacy gone, gone, GONE. They hand you a lubed-up deal and tell you where to place it (3 guesses).
Once the CT stuff is done, then a "plan" will be developed. Basically, I will have 5 weeks of doses (daily, each week, for 25 treatments) of radiation. I am told that they will MARK my body with little dots, to show where the radiation should be directed. I was also told that each session will take about 20 - 30 minutes, most of that to be sure that my body is positioned EXACTLY as needed. This is all while I am naked from the waist down, which I am sure will be EXTREMELY comfortable, right? On a cold, flat, hard surface, in a cold room. Boy, I can hardly wait on this one.
After a couple of weeks, I will apparently have side effects from radiation, which include lack of energy plus internal damage to various parts of my body. Some of those areas include burnt skin or internal tissue, plus damage to my bladder and my bowels. Oh, and to my vagina, too. So: goodbye to what had been a good sex life, I guess. This causes scarring on the upper end of the vagina, and in order to regain full use of this, it has been suggested that I use a vaginal dilator. Oh, more joy and happiness. Not to mention having to buy something that I currently have NO use for, and never wanted to. The bladder damage will cause me to pee more frequently, and the bowel damage will possibly/probably cause diarrhea. The fun, the anticipated laughs, eh? I am only sorry that I have to wait until mid-February to start this round of treatment.
Now, in case you think that all I am doing is feeling sorry for myself, I thought I would share something that I found - written by a woman who also had a cancer diagnosis and did NOT have to have chemo nor radiation. She writes:
I would describe myself as a woman of strong faith with a positive outlook on life. However, with the cancer diagnosis came a deluge of "what-ifs," and cancer began to dominate my thoughts. Fear, anxiety, depression, anger, and sadness were common emotions that plagued me all hours of the day and night. In my quest for information, I discovered the Cancer Concerns Forum on the HysterSister's website. I learned that my "what-ifs" had a name - cancerhead. Time and again this term came up as women described their fears regarding cancer. I found that I was not alone. Psychologists and other experts agree that women diagnosed with cancer respond in similar ways.
1) Denial – There must be some mistake.
2) Anger – Why are you telling me this?
3) Why me? – What did I do, or not do, to deserve this?
4) Resignation – I can’t help myself; it’s beyond my control.
5) Acceptance – I will fight this with everything I’ve got in me.
As I struggled through these various stages, I felt like I was on an emotional roller coaster. I did not want to take this journey or deal with the uncertainty of my future. End of quoted excerpt.
What some of you may not know, is that I have gone through these pissy stages before, when my husband died unexpectedly at age 56, in May of 2008. I found support via some blogs and web sites. Now I am reading some of the SAME "support" statements from cancer sites. Just TOO MUCH to re-visit, you know? Even from the "welcome to this group that you never wanted to join" greetings. TOO MUCH.
The radiation oncologist (who I did like, btw) also said that the healthy reaction I have been experiencing thus far, following 2 rounds of chemo, will NOT last. So I guess I have deteriorating health to look forward to, also. Goodbye, energy, decent appetite, and so on. At least the hair is just about gone, so I won't have to keep sweeping and vacuuming THAT up in a little bit. Good thing, too, since I apparently won't have the energy for that little household chore.
Funny thing is, before this morning's appointment, I was about at step (5), listed above. Now I feel like I am back at step (1). Don't tell me to cheer up, to have a positive attitude. I just don't want to hear it now - if, indeed, ever.
'Bye.
Here's what will happen: I will have an initial CT scan, so they can identify anything that they think will need radiation. Now this is NOT an ordinary CT scan, since it will also involve a vaginal CT scan. Having experienced a vaginal ultrasound recently, I can tell you that I am NOT looking forward to having another "vaginal" anything done. All dignity, all privacy gone, gone, GONE. They hand you a lubed-up deal and tell you where to place it (3 guesses).
Once the CT stuff is done, then a "plan" will be developed. Basically, I will have 5 weeks of doses (daily, each week, for 25 treatments) of radiation. I am told that they will MARK my body with little dots, to show where the radiation should be directed. I was also told that each session will take about 20 - 30 minutes, most of that to be sure that my body is positioned EXACTLY as needed. This is all while I am naked from the waist down, which I am sure will be EXTREMELY comfortable, right? On a cold, flat, hard surface, in a cold room. Boy, I can hardly wait on this one.
After a couple of weeks, I will apparently have side effects from radiation, which include lack of energy plus internal damage to various parts of my body. Some of those areas include burnt skin or internal tissue, plus damage to my bladder and my bowels. Oh, and to my vagina, too. So: goodbye to what had been a good sex life, I guess. This causes scarring on the upper end of the vagina, and in order to regain full use of this, it has been suggested that I use a vaginal dilator. Oh, more joy and happiness. Not to mention having to buy something that I currently have NO use for, and never wanted to. The bladder damage will cause me to pee more frequently, and the bowel damage will possibly/probably cause diarrhea. The fun, the anticipated laughs, eh? I am only sorry that I have to wait until mid-February to start this round of treatment.
Now, in case you think that all I am doing is feeling sorry for myself, I thought I would share something that I found - written by a woman who also had a cancer diagnosis and did NOT have to have chemo nor radiation. She writes:
I would describe myself as a woman of strong faith with a positive outlook on life. However, with the cancer diagnosis came a deluge of "what-ifs," and cancer began to dominate my thoughts. Fear, anxiety, depression, anger, and sadness were common emotions that plagued me all hours of the day and night. In my quest for information, I discovered the Cancer Concerns Forum on the HysterSister's website. I learned that my "what-ifs" had a name - cancerhead. Time and again this term came up as women described their fears regarding cancer. I found that I was not alone. Psychologists and other experts agree that women diagnosed with cancer respond in similar ways.
1) Denial – There must be some mistake.
2) Anger – Why are you telling me this?
3) Why me? – What did I do, or not do, to deserve this?
4) Resignation – I can’t help myself; it’s beyond my control.
5) Acceptance – I will fight this with everything I’ve got in me.
As I struggled through these various stages, I felt like I was on an emotional roller coaster. I did not want to take this journey or deal with the uncertainty of my future. End of quoted excerpt.
What some of you may not know, is that I have gone through these pissy stages before, when my husband died unexpectedly at age 56, in May of 2008. I found support via some blogs and web sites. Now I am reading some of the SAME "support" statements from cancer sites. Just TOO MUCH to re-visit, you know? Even from the "welcome to this group that you never wanted to join" greetings. TOO MUCH.
The radiation oncologist (who I did like, btw) also said that the healthy reaction I have been experiencing thus far, following 2 rounds of chemo, will NOT last. So I guess I have deteriorating health to look forward to, also. Goodbye, energy, decent appetite, and so on. At least the hair is just about gone, so I won't have to keep sweeping and vacuuming THAT up in a little bit. Good thing, too, since I apparently won't have the energy for that little household chore.
Funny thing is, before this morning's appointment, I was about at step (5), listed above. Now I feel like I am back at step (1). Don't tell me to cheer up, to have a positive attitude. I just don't want to hear it now - if, indeed, ever.
'Bye.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Going forward
Just a few minutes here to update.
Had chemo # 2 on the 4th (Wed.) and the actual process went much, much better. The staff had the info on the problems from my 1st session and took care to introduce the problem-causing drug at a slow rate, initially, then sped it up gradually.
The biggest problem encountered at this second session was actually BEFORE this session. It seems that, since I have now entered the chemo process, I now need to be cleared (okayed) to go forward with the chemo. A nurse-practitioner does this. No problem with any of that. My "clearing" appt was scheduled for 9:30, which was about the time that I was ushered into a room and my "vitals" were done. And then we sat, and waited, and WAITED, and WAITED. I finally went out of the room, looking for someone to tell that we were STILL waiting - and furthermore, the chemo session was scheduled for 11 am, which was fast approaching. Finally, the nurse-practitioner graced us with her presence. She asked some very non-essential questions and I mentioned my chemo appt. And SHE informed ME that SHE had to "clear" me for this scheduled chemo. I disliked her STRONGLY. That's as nasty as I will get, in print. L and I both agreed that she had that "I am in charge" attitude. A wonderful way to endear her to patients - and guess what? We have to deal with her for each and every chemo appt from now on.
Oh, and the reason that she showed up late? She went to the WRONG patient's room, so someone else was in and out quickly, while I sat and sat, becoming later and later. "I'm in charge" never admitted that to us, btw. Someone else on the staff coughed up that info.
Hair (on my head) is still falling out. Fewer and fewer strands. Sickening. The hair on my legs? Still growing. Still have hair on my arms, as well as eyebrows and eyelashes. Pubic hair, still leaving. And my "privates", without the protective buffering, are now subject to rubbing and chafing against underwear and jeans. No one ever mentions THIS "delicate" subject. So, folks, I am telling this fact NOW. I consider this blog and its current subject, a public service.
Have been enjoying the record-breaking temps (in the 40's), but that will be over in another day or two. So then I have a choice: an appearance-saving wig (NOT warm) or an ugly hat with no hair under it, and said hat will have to worn ALL the time when I am out in public. Yes, it is ONLY hair...
Okay, trying to be upbeat - and truly, I am feeling pretty good, as far as energy and my appetite is sorta ok.
Well, gotta run. Housecleaning calls (yuck) and I need to pop in the shower before I head into town for a blood test. All the fun you can squeeze into one morning!
Ta-ta.
Had chemo # 2 on the 4th (Wed.) and the actual process went much, much better. The staff had the info on the problems from my 1st session and took care to introduce the problem-causing drug at a slow rate, initially, then sped it up gradually.
The biggest problem encountered at this second session was actually BEFORE this session. It seems that, since I have now entered the chemo process, I now need to be cleared (okayed) to go forward with the chemo. A nurse-practitioner does this. No problem with any of that. My "clearing" appt was scheduled for 9:30, which was about the time that I was ushered into a room and my "vitals" were done. And then we sat, and waited, and WAITED, and WAITED. I finally went out of the room, looking for someone to tell that we were STILL waiting - and furthermore, the chemo session was scheduled for 11 am, which was fast approaching. Finally, the nurse-practitioner graced us with her presence. She asked some very non-essential questions and I mentioned my chemo appt. And SHE informed ME that SHE had to "clear" me for this scheduled chemo. I disliked her STRONGLY. That's as nasty as I will get, in print. L and I both agreed that she had that "I am in charge" attitude. A wonderful way to endear her to patients - and guess what? We have to deal with her for each and every chemo appt from now on.
Oh, and the reason that she showed up late? She went to the WRONG patient's room, so someone else was in and out quickly, while I sat and sat, becoming later and later. "I'm in charge" never admitted that to us, btw. Someone else on the staff coughed up that info.
Hair (on my head) is still falling out. Fewer and fewer strands. Sickening. The hair on my legs? Still growing. Still have hair on my arms, as well as eyebrows and eyelashes. Pubic hair, still leaving. And my "privates", without the protective buffering, are now subject to rubbing and chafing against underwear and jeans. No one ever mentions THIS "delicate" subject. So, folks, I am telling this fact NOW. I consider this blog and its current subject, a public service.
Have been enjoying the record-breaking temps (in the 40's), but that will be over in another day or two. So then I have a choice: an appearance-saving wig (NOT warm) or an ugly hat with no hair under it, and said hat will have to worn ALL the time when I am out in public. Yes, it is ONLY hair...
Okay, trying to be upbeat - and truly, I am feeling pretty good, as far as energy and my appetite is sorta ok.
Well, gotta run. Housecleaning calls (yuck) and I need to pop in the shower before I head into town for a blood test. All the fun you can squeeze into one morning!
Ta-ta.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
A New Year and...??
(A coupla pix of me when I looked more like the "normal" people do. It's all I have to hold on to, so you gotta indulge me...)
Well, here it is, 2012. And I actually DID make it to midnight (unlike someone else who shall remain nameless), although I watched the ball drop @ Times Square an hour earlier than that.
Had a low-key day (New Year's Eve): Saturday night church, dinner @ a good local restaurant, and then a drink at a local establishment closer to this place. Was probably back here by 10:30.
The hair is just about gone now. But amazing, how much you can still shed, given that so much of your scalp is showing. Now have two wigs, and the first one (which I bought via the American Cancer Society because the color was similar to mine and the style was, also) will need some further trimming. I knew, based on the description, that it would be too long, but as my stylist said, she prefers to under-trim the length and let me wear it, before I decide I need more length removed. I'll try to post some photos.
I cried in the shower again yesterday. The loss, the loss... Ironically, my health appears to be just fine: good energy level, decent appetite, and so on. But it is just so hard to accept the hair loss. Wigs are truly a pain in the ass (if this offends you, you should never read my blog again), because when you are mostly hairless, it is difficult to keep that damned "dead cat" on your head. Think of it: it SLIDES, folks. And truly, I do NOT like the hats and turbans - I don't want something to scream "cancer" the minute I walk into the room, truly I do not. I want to live my life as normally as possible, although being under the medical micro-management that this requires, IS irritating, at best, and at its worst, really pisses me off when I am very down or feeling unjustly "blessed" with another thing that SOME believe is a situation that "God doesn't give you anything you can't handle". Yeah, early widowhood isn't enough, is it? So for all of you blissfully leading happy, carefree lives, you can thank me for handling something that apparently YOU cannot handle? You see how ridiculous that statement is?
Other statements: don't drown in the "pity pot" (said by someone who has NOT talked to me in person and does not read this blog and had not gone thru this, either); and countless folks who say that I am strong and I can handle it. Trust me, I would have to a friggin' brick wall to be THAT strong. Especially when the chemo gave me the heart attack symptoms. I am only 5'3" and weigh under 115. (Maybe less without hair??) How strong should I be, at this size - and at this age, too?
Oh, and I would appreciate it if you do not mention any of your family members who have died from cancer. I already am facing my own mortality in a way that I never, ever thought about before. If you can't say something positive, then don't say anything at all. People told me (following my husband's death) that they could relate, because their father, brother, in-laws died. Not. The. Same. At. All.
Anyway, I am trying to be positive as I face chemo #2 on Wednesday. We will head to the Cities Tuesday afternoon and stay at my nephew and his wife's place for the short drive to the Mpls. campus for a medical check-in plus the chemo scheduled after that. I don't know if they will try to start #2 at a slower rate or not. From what I have been told, each round of chemo can be different from the other one(s). I hope the assigned nurse noted my symptoms from round #1. Plus they do NOT know about the bleeding and lowered hemoglobin which occurred a few days after that, either.
Sorry to keep returning to the hair thing. But. Don't. Tell. Me. It. Is. Only. Hair. So far from being true that I cannot even relate to someone who says that. Just please shut up, if that's the only "supportive" thing you can say.
So (for other cancer sufferers who are also wading thru some of these same statements) what CAN you say? How about a hug, or a comment that you can appreciate what a struggle this is for you. Truly, those same movements and comments also apply to widows and widowers.
Getting off my soapbox. Hope to post some photos with this blog later tonight. I want to be as open as possible (don't worry, none of 'em will be nudes), and I am shedding my desire to hide away, so that others can see just what some of the treatment entails. Not trying to shock, but instead to share.
First photo: all the hair products and accessories that I will not be able to use for probably over a year (if I am that fortunate).
Second photo: hair loss for about a day-and-a-half, before I had most of it cut off. There's a up-ended shot glass behind the pile, just for perspective.
Third photo: hair on its way out, me with my face covered. This openness is not as easy as I had hoped.
Fourth photo: face uncovered. Again, not so easy to do.
Fifth photo: the hat (or something similar to it) that I will be wearing for months (or maybe a year -- who knows), in order to not freeze my naked head and to not look so ugly to anyone who might pop in, or to my significant other. You have no idea what a hassle it is, to wear a wig. Maybe I'll post some wig pix tomorrow.
Anyway, this has been a tough post to publish. So I'm outta here for tonight.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Attitude
I am up at this God-forsaken hour of the night/morning (about 2 am CST) because I am just not falling asleep. So I carefully slid out of bed and hooked up the laptop, ready to share my thoughts. And guessing that many of you are not wanting to read them, based on the last several posts.
If I didn't know any better, I would think that I am on some kind of "happy" pills. I do feel pretty good (health-wise, which might mean that my body is fixin' to betray me again), and that may be because my hemoglobin count is up a bit. Based on the fact that both chemo and bleeding lowered my red cell count, I was advised to eat certain foods (none that I really like) plus take iron pills. Iron supplements have the charming side effect of constipation. Hmmm... didn't I go thru THAT stuff when I had to take painkillers following surgery? So not anxious to gobble iron. However, L had some of them, and the dose said 300% + on the bottle. I used a pill splitter to halve them and have been taking one half-pill daily or every other day. Plus we put some steaks on the grill tonight and that probably amped up my iron a bit, too.
Pretty much have made up my mind to get most of my hair cut off today (it is already Wednesday) or tomorrow. I am tired of having big gobfuls (trust me, this is NOT an exaggeration) falling out everywhere - jackets, on my gloves, on countertops, etc. And I am guessing that I will cry. And freeze. And feel even less feminine.
Enjoying a cup of gingerbread tea, which I recently purchased. Celestial Seasoning puts this out (a "seasonal" tea), and it is pretty tasty.
I have received several nice cards, some holiday, some not, with words of encouragement from folks in the rv park in the Tampa area. Some are NOT all that close to me or to L, and yet they took the time to write some nice things. I was very touched by each one.
Well, dang it -- I wish sleep would come! Had a wonderfully, deep and long sleep Monday night. And then tonight... after laying there for quite a period of time, no ZZZ's seemed to be in the cards for me.
But anyway... hope you are encouraged that I finally posted a bit of a brighter blog tonight. Next Wednesday is chemo #2. Wondering if I will have the same side effects or if new ones will be added. Not fun to look forward to. But hoping that the end result is that my life is saved.
If I didn't know any better, I would think that I am on some kind of "happy" pills. I do feel pretty good (health-wise, which might mean that my body is fixin' to betray me again), and that may be because my hemoglobin count is up a bit. Based on the fact that both chemo and bleeding lowered my red cell count, I was advised to eat certain foods (none that I really like) plus take iron pills. Iron supplements have the charming side effect of constipation. Hmmm... didn't I go thru THAT stuff when I had to take painkillers following surgery? So not anxious to gobble iron. However, L had some of them, and the dose said 300% + on the bottle. I used a pill splitter to halve them and have been taking one half-pill daily or every other day. Plus we put some steaks on the grill tonight and that probably amped up my iron a bit, too.
Pretty much have made up my mind to get most of my hair cut off today (it is already Wednesday) or tomorrow. I am tired of having big gobfuls (trust me, this is NOT an exaggeration) falling out everywhere - jackets, on my gloves, on countertops, etc. And I am guessing that I will cry. And freeze. And feel even less feminine.
Enjoying a cup of gingerbread tea, which I recently purchased. Celestial Seasoning puts this out (a "seasonal" tea), and it is pretty tasty.
I have received several nice cards, some holiday, some not, with words of encouragement from folks in the rv park in the Tampa area. Some are NOT all that close to me or to L, and yet they took the time to write some nice things. I was very touched by each one.
Well, dang it -- I wish sleep would come! Had a wonderfully, deep and long sleep Monday night. And then tonight... after laying there for quite a period of time, no ZZZ's seemed to be in the cards for me.
But anyway... hope you are encouraged that I finally posted a bit of a brighter blog tonight. Next Wednesday is chemo #2. Wondering if I will have the same side effects or if new ones will be added. Not fun to look forward to. But hoping that the end result is that my life is saved.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Down, down days
Damn. I wish this was a an upbeat post. It is so, so difficult to be "up" when your hair is falling out by the handsful. This is NOT an exaggeration. I have been told that I will be bald by the time chemo # 2 starts (Jan. 4th), and the body is trying hard to make that schedule.
I KNOW that I am not the first woman to go thru this. That does not mean that I have to embrace it. Hair is so important to a woman, as it is the image she presents to the world. It means her femininity. I have always tried to make sure my hair is attractive and clean, but I don't over-fuss with it (no hairspray, for example).
I have a friend in Texas who has been very supportive of me. She herself went through breast cancer over 4 years ago, and was successfully treated with chemo from May through September. She did not experience radiation. She said she lost her hair - head, eyebrows and eyelashes. I forgot to ask her about body hair. I am losing that, too. So now I will get to experience looking like an ageing porn star. Just what every woman in my age bracket wants.
Another side effect, chipping away at my femininity. I don't know if I will ever feel "sexy", attractive or feminine again. This saddens me greatly. So it hasn't been a great day (again).
I recently purchased a wig, knowing that this was going to come. And brought it to a very understanding, empathetic hairdresser. She was so nice, so supportive. She said that when it comes time to trim my few remaining hairs (my words, not hers), she will do it in any setting where I would feel comfortable, including a private room at the salon.
And one of the nurses who does my INR (blood "thinner" tests) at the local clinic was so supportive, also, today. Her husband went thru some very harrowing chemo and bone marrow transplant (his own marrow) years ago. So she has been very close to a loved one who has experienced some of this. Yes, a different gender, but she KNOWS that this is a bitch to experience.
By the way, we had a good Christmas Eve. Spent several hours in the afternoon with my sister, her s.o., and her son, daughter-in-law, two grandkids, her daughter, our mother and of course, L. After this gathering, we drove to L's daughter's place and spent the rest of the evening with his family. We ended the evening at a 10 pm church service. A very long day for me, but the two gatherings were very nice, very loving.
You will all have to bear with me. My emotions are very close to the surface and I am told that my lowered hemoglobin can be responsible for depression as well as me not being able to tolerate the cold.
Thanks to those who continue to struggle thru this with me.
I KNOW that I am not the first woman to go thru this. That does not mean that I have to embrace it. Hair is so important to a woman, as it is the image she presents to the world. It means her femininity. I have always tried to make sure my hair is attractive and clean, but I don't over-fuss with it (no hairspray, for example).
I have a friend in Texas who has been very supportive of me. She herself went through breast cancer over 4 years ago, and was successfully treated with chemo from May through September. She did not experience radiation. She said she lost her hair - head, eyebrows and eyelashes. I forgot to ask her about body hair. I am losing that, too. So now I will get to experience looking like an ageing porn star. Just what every woman in my age bracket wants.
Another side effect, chipping away at my femininity. I don't know if I will ever feel "sexy", attractive or feminine again. This saddens me greatly. So it hasn't been a great day (again).
I recently purchased a wig, knowing that this was going to come. And brought it to a very understanding, empathetic hairdresser. She was so nice, so supportive. She said that when it comes time to trim my few remaining hairs (my words, not hers), she will do it in any setting where I would feel comfortable, including a private room at the salon.
And one of the nurses who does my INR (blood "thinner" tests) at the local clinic was so supportive, also, today. Her husband went thru some very harrowing chemo and bone marrow transplant (his own marrow) years ago. So she has been very close to a loved one who has experienced some of this. Yes, a different gender, but she KNOWS that this is a bitch to experience.
By the way, we had a good Christmas Eve. Spent several hours in the afternoon with my sister, her s.o., and her son, daughter-in-law, two grandkids, her daughter, our mother and of course, L. After this gathering, we drove to L's daughter's place and spent the rest of the evening with his family. We ended the evening at a 10 pm church service. A very long day for me, but the two gatherings were very nice, very loving.
You will all have to bear with me. My emotions are very close to the surface and I am told that my lowered hemoglobin can be responsible for depression as well as me not being able to tolerate the cold.
Thanks to those who continue to struggle thru this with me.
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