About radiation-
Acute side effects occur during the treatment phase and typically go away a few weeks after treatment is finished. They include fatigue, skin reactions, and side effects specific to the area being treated. The most common acute side effect of radiation therapy is fatigue, a sense of tiredness or general weakness.
So there's that.
Radiation has not been a breeze for me. I was more tired than I expected I would be. Everything else has gone so seamlessly, I figured this would just be another blip on the screen. Instead, I have found myself to be exhausted almost all the time. The area of my radiation burns and feels like I have a wicked sunburn that continues to get worse because I keep getting back in the "sun" so to speak.
In all though, it's nothing. I mean a little exhaustion, whatevs! I have four kids. I have been exhausted since 1993. Burnt skin, whatevs! I used to fry myself at Natasket beach every summer hoping to get that Bain de soleil for the St. Tropez tan. (Do you remember that add?) 7 weeks of radiation everyday is more of a nuisance than anything else. One delightful benefit of my radiation therapy was the little posse of gals I shared a time slot with each day. Oddly the four of us were all teachers and all four of us had breast cancer. Two of the four had undergone chemo while two of the bunch had not. As you know I was one of the lucky ones. These gals lifted my spirits each day. I loved seeing them and talking about our families, our careers and our faith. Each of us had a positive prognosis and we all felt a sense of peace that our collective futures looked good! Sometimes if I was there early I would visit with another gal. Her situation was dire. She too had breast cancer, but her cancer had returned to other parts of her body. She was undergoing treatment to prolong her life, not save her life. Her three children at home were all school aged. She knew many of the things she supposed would be part of her life and theirs would not be. One day she told me she spent a few months in utter despair. Everyday she lived thinking about dying. Her attitude when I met her was one of happiness and light. I asked her what changed in her. She told me that she woke up one day and recognized how grateful she should be for each day she has, and just like that, things changed for her. It's funny, we all say "no one is guaranteed a tomorrow," but do we really believe that? I know I have always gone to bed planning the next day's, week's, month's and even year's events. Did I really ever consider how grateful I need to be for just today and the time at hand? More now than ever before I have gratitude for what is right now.
Cancer has changed me in some ways. Mostly for the better I think.
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
Thursday, January 5, 2017
Chemo? No, thank you.
Most of you who read my blog already know that my cancer is estrogen receptor positive and progesterone receptor positive. The cancer cells, like normal breast cells, receive signals from these hormones that promote growth. That is why I am able to take the drug Tamoxifen, which blocks the production of estrogen, to lower my chances of recurrence. So even though I am able to take this drug to lower my risks of a recurrence, my oncologist had not ruled the possibility of chemotherapy as another precaution. At one of my visits with her she ordered a test called an onchotype. The onchotype test is used to determine the likelihood of recurrence. The lower one's score the less likely it is that the person will have a recurrence. I was in a position now that I knew radiation therapy was going to occur. My radiation specialist (who by the way looks like he could be one of Joey's friends- he's that young) was holding off on the start of radiation until we knew for sure about chemo.
Chemotherapy has always been the treatment I assumed every cancer patient underwent. I was fearful of the thought of the treatment. Hair loss, nausea and vomiting, nerve pain and extreme fatigue are all common side effects of the treatment. What a horrible list of likely happenings. Also, my appointments at Comprehensive Cancer introduced me to many who were undergoing or had undergone the treatment. These wonderful, brave, strong friends I was making were SICK. I think that is what scared me the most about chemo. I have a secret to let you in on. breast cancer doesn't make you feel sick. Since the first surgery I have felt pretty much like myslef. A little tired, a little emotional, but not really sick. The only thing that made me sick was the dumb pain medicine and once I figured that out I just quit the stuff. My cancer buddies at Comprehensive Cancer Center were sick and I was afraid I would be joining their ranks.
When I was a kid I used to get a sore throat every winter. It was always my tonsils and until I had them removed in 7th grade I missed a week or so of school every year because of my illnesses. I hated it. I hated staying home and begged my mom to let me go to school . I didn't like missing things then and I don't like missing things now. I hate being laid up. On my days home I would get out of bed with everyone else in the house and put my clothes on. That's a big one for me. Getting dressed. Being in pajamas all day was not, and still is not, an option. When I get up I get up and get dressed. Even if it means putting on yesterday's clothes for an hour or two before I shower. Do you remember when that little girl Jon Benet Ramsey went missing. Part of the case they were making against her mother focused on the fact she had on the same outfit two days in a row. People thought this indicated she had been up all night and was somehow involved in her daughter's death. I remember thinking, "What? That's crazy. She just threw her clothes back on because she didn't want to be in her pajamas while all the chaos was unfolding." I just don't like hanging out in my pajamas. In fact, funny story, the worst punishment my parents would give me when I was a kid was to get ready for bed early. I can't remember what I did but I remember a time that I was being flippant to my mother while a little neighbor girl was over playing. My mom sent the girl home and made me put on my pajamas right then in the middle of the afternoon. I thought I would die. Anyhow during bouts with tonsillitis, TV and books could keep me happy for an hour or two but inevitably I had to get up and do something. As a kid I would work on projects in my room and even convince my mother to let me bake cookies. Even if I had a fever my mom would always have my brothers bring home all of my school assignments. She knew I would be devastated if I fell behind in my work.
Every so often, however, like all school aged children, I would catch a dreaded stomach bug. These sick days were different. There was nothing I could do to will away the nausea that would flood my body. I remember distinctly lying on the couch with a big bowl next to me, a headache causing me to desire nothing but sleep, but being unable to drift off. TV, books were of no use. No thought of baking or schoolwork entered my mind. I would just lie there and be sick. As I got to know my cancer pals and talked with them about their treatment it became clear to me that chemo was akin in some ways to that dreaded stomach bug. Relief was seldom and throughout most of the weeks you just had to put up with being sick. I guess I am not unique in thinking, "Chemo, no thank you."
So on the day I went for the results of my onchotype test I was relieved to hear I would not need chemotherapy. My wonderful oncologist talked with me about her 16 year practice. She said just ten years ago chemotherapy would have been likely in my case. Today with all the research and work that is being done to develop targeted therapies for cancer patients she has seen a 60% drop in the use of chemotherapy in her own practice. That's pretty amazing if you ask me.
So on to radiation I go. Grateful that I will be spared what many are not. Grateful I will be able to get up each day and get dressed. And eternally grateful to Dr Thummala, my oncologist who is committed to stomping out cancer, one cell at a time.
Chemotherapy has always been the treatment I assumed every cancer patient underwent. I was fearful of the thought of the treatment. Hair loss, nausea and vomiting, nerve pain and extreme fatigue are all common side effects of the treatment. What a horrible list of likely happenings. Also, my appointments at Comprehensive Cancer introduced me to many who were undergoing or had undergone the treatment. These wonderful, brave, strong friends I was making were SICK. I think that is what scared me the most about chemo. I have a secret to let you in on. breast cancer doesn't make you feel sick. Since the first surgery I have felt pretty much like myslef. A little tired, a little emotional, but not really sick. The only thing that made me sick was the dumb pain medicine and once I figured that out I just quit the stuff. My cancer buddies at Comprehensive Cancer Center were sick and I was afraid I would be joining their ranks.
When I was a kid I used to get a sore throat every winter. It was always my tonsils and until I had them removed in 7th grade I missed a week or so of school every year because of my illnesses. I hated it. I hated staying home and begged my mom to let me go to school . I didn't like missing things then and I don't like missing things now. I hate being laid up. On my days home I would get out of bed with everyone else in the house and put my clothes on. That's a big one for me. Getting dressed. Being in pajamas all day was not, and still is not, an option. When I get up I get up and get dressed. Even if it means putting on yesterday's clothes for an hour or two before I shower. Do you remember when that little girl Jon Benet Ramsey went missing. Part of the case they were making against her mother focused on the fact she had on the same outfit two days in a row. People thought this indicated she had been up all night and was somehow involved in her daughter's death. I remember thinking, "What? That's crazy. She just threw her clothes back on because she didn't want to be in her pajamas while all the chaos was unfolding." I just don't like hanging out in my pajamas. In fact, funny story, the worst punishment my parents would give me when I was a kid was to get ready for bed early. I can't remember what I did but I remember a time that I was being flippant to my mother while a little neighbor girl was over playing. My mom sent the girl home and made me put on my pajamas right then in the middle of the afternoon. I thought I would die. Anyhow during bouts with tonsillitis, TV and books could keep me happy for an hour or two but inevitably I had to get up and do something. As a kid I would work on projects in my room and even convince my mother to let me bake cookies. Even if I had a fever my mom would always have my brothers bring home all of my school assignments. She knew I would be devastated if I fell behind in my work.
Every so often, however, like all school aged children, I would catch a dreaded stomach bug. These sick days were different. There was nothing I could do to will away the nausea that would flood my body. I remember distinctly lying on the couch with a big bowl next to me, a headache causing me to desire nothing but sleep, but being unable to drift off. TV, books were of no use. No thought of baking or schoolwork entered my mind. I would just lie there and be sick. As I got to know my cancer pals and talked with them about their treatment it became clear to me that chemo was akin in some ways to that dreaded stomach bug. Relief was seldom and throughout most of the weeks you just had to put up with being sick. I guess I am not unique in thinking, "Chemo, no thank you."
So on the day I went for the results of my onchotype test I was relieved to hear I would not need chemotherapy. My wonderful oncologist talked with me about her 16 year practice. She said just ten years ago chemotherapy would have been likely in my case. Today with all the research and work that is being done to develop targeted therapies for cancer patients she has seen a 60% drop in the use of chemotherapy in her own practice. That's pretty amazing if you ask me.
So on to radiation I go. Grateful that I will be spared what many are not. Grateful I will be able to get up each day and get dressed. And eternally grateful to Dr Thummala, my oncologist who is committed to stomping out cancer, one cell at a time.
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