This is my own story of life with advanced ovarian cancer. I do not offer medical advice, and my treatment decisions are my own. Please talk to your physician or healer and gain as much information as you can about this dreadful disease called cancer. Remember, knowledge is Power!

Wednesday, April 28

Bitchy McBitcherson

I'm at that point in chemo (1 more month to go, 3 more blasts) where the cumulative effects are kickin my ass. It's a beautiful day outside and I want to be lounging by the pool with an ice cold beer. But I have to stay out of the sun, and I feel too pukey for a beer. Woe is me. :( I got the Neulasta shot with my chemo on Monday and feel like I've been hit by a truck. Percocet is not my friend today. Got the itch-fest going on with that, and the hot flashes are way out of control. Did I say woe is me?

Yeah, I'm whining, I know. But it's better to get it out here than let loose on some asshole who desperately deserves it (or not). Today is not a good day to fuck with me. I am in a mood. And I feel like shit.


Sunday, April 11

Anticipatory Nausea

There's really nothin' or nobody that can fuck with your head like your own head. Even when you know what's up and why you feel that way.

Since I started this second round of chemo, every time I go causes me much anxiety and nausea. None of my anti-nausea meds help with this. Xanax isn't helping much either, especially because I drive myself to and from chemo since it's only a short infusion.

My sister is in the hospital right now for diverticulitis. The hospital is right across the street from my Onc office where I get my chemo. It turns out that I don't even have to be going to chemo- just the drive up there gets me all worked up, and I've been up there a lot this past week.

I talked to my chemo nurse on Friday. She said to expect to have more chemo on Monday because the onc said I could/should, Avastin or not.

Anticipatory nausea, indeed. Makes me want to barf just thinking about it.

Wednesday, April 7


I've been warned. I'm not allowed to bleed. I don't know if I can handle that. I think I bleed from somewhere almost every day, whether it's a paper cut, a hangnail, a nosebleed, whatever. Not that I'm accident prone or anything. *cough cough

Coumadin is my newest pharmacological adventure. It's supposed to thin my blood to prevent more clots from forming. Great. Cool. I get that. I'm also taking Diflucan (antifungal) for the Valley Fever thing. Per the pulmonologist yesterday, Diflucan really, really "enhances" the Coumadin, meaning it's making my blood almost like kool-aid and I have to be very careful not to injure myself. (not that I'm accident prone). If I start bleeding out of my eyeballs, I guess that's not good either, and will really put a damper on my beer drinking. But the pulm doc says I'm doing good, considering, and he'll see me in 6 months unless I need him before that.

I saw my PCP on Monday. He's keeping track of my Coumadin levels and PT (clotting factors). My INR was 2.1 so that means I can stop the Lovenox injections. Can you say AMEN? On the Suck-O-Meter, that registered at a 10. Look at my chunky monkey! But bruises fade. The fog lifts. And some day my blood will be thicker than water again.

I'll see my PCP again tomorrow for INR check, and what the cardiologist has to say on Friday. Next week we'll figure out what's next. Stay tuned.

Friday, April 2

Leo is a douche

Is it Friday already? Time sure flies when you're gorked out in the hospital for a few days. I've been trying to piece together what happened after I got to the hospital Saturday night, but I got a lot of pain meds soon after I got there until I left on Tuesday, so it's pretty blurry.

I had a pulmonary embolism, or (multiple) blood clots in both lungs. Hurt like a BITCH. I vaguely remember my dude getting there Saturday night, and my mom and my sister coming early Sunday morning. I don't remember calling my mom. (or anyone else, so if I emailed, called or tried to text you during that time, sorry! I can only type/text/speak in GORK-mode while on morphine. Actually, while we're on that subject- pretty much anything I write, post or say or do after my Ambien kicks in at night is gonna be strange.)

My daughter and her friend made it down and watched over me until Monday. And started a ruckus with the nurses because they couldn't give her information she wanted. "Leo is a douche" was her text message to me after she left. {Please don't annoy the people who are sticking needles in Mommy, darling. They know what they're doing, and when there's more information to give, you will get it. We're not holding out on you, or protecting you from the truth. We just don't know right now. }

My dude was in and out. So was I. ha. He brought me chocolate cheesecake. Better than morphine or dilaudid, that's for sure. Apparently, I had consults with nutritionists, the oncologist, the pain management dude, etc. I have paperwork that says I did, anyway. I remember the walls bulging, and talking to myself.

I got discharged on Tuesday. Taken off Heparin drip, started on oral Coumadin and Lovenox. Had to pick up my boy from the airport that night- he'd been in Chicago with Daddy Dearest for the past 2 weeks for spring break. I saw a unicorn on the way to the airport. No shit, I did. He was white and sparkly.

Wednesday- took the kid to school. Went back to the ER for repeat episode of lung/rib/chest pain. Workup was negative for new emboli. How come it hurts so much? More pain meds.

Thursday- had follow up at PCP office. Had to see the PA, but she knows her shit. They will be monitoring my Coumadin levels and my INR. Seems to be a problem taking coumadin and diflucan together- They will talk to pulmonologist, oncologist, cardiologist. I'll see the PCP on Monday to figure out what's next. Apparently, Avastin, which has so many good things happening with it, carries a higher risk of thromboembolism (blood clots). But so does cancer, hormone therapy, smoking, and a bunch of other stuff.

In the meantime, my chemo is on hold AGAIN. That may be a good thing, cuz I'll tell ya- that shit's killin' me.