Another Graduation

You'd think I would've been ready this morning, having been up since 3am all jacked up on steroids, hot flashing and having a major anxiety attack. I had to go outside and sit on my patio for awhile to cool off and try to get my Zen on with some Xanax and herbal remedies. I had to take another batch of steroids at 6am in prep for chemo today. MY LAST CHEMO. FOREVER, DAMN IT!

So we took dog out (Rico did), got the kid up and to school (Rico did) while I dawdled in the shower, lollygagged getting dressed, and generally stalled for as long as I could before getting out the door for the 25 mile drive. Wait! I need to draw my eyebrows in! I need to use the bathroom! Where are my lucky blue Chucks?? Is my iTouch charged up? Wait! I gotta put Lidocaine on my port! Is it time for another Xanax yet? Check the A/C. Make sure the windows are closed. Fill the dog bowls. Switch the laundry to the dryer and start another load.

We finally hit the road (when he gently dragged me out the door) and here I am at Club Chemo with 9 other women today, all of us at various stages in our treatment. Today, being my last treatment (the 2nd time around) I've got the Graduation Ribbon on my IV pole. Here, patients sign the ribbon after the last chemo. There are 3 ribbons that hang on the wall, all filled with prayers, jokes, signatures and love notes to the Oncology Team. Every part of every ribbon is signed, all the way down each of the 12 strands of 4 foot tail. This one is a brand new ribbon and I'm the first to sign it. I think I've just earned a B.S. Degree in Chemotherapy.
Another oncology office has them ring The Bell, and another place plops a tiara on your head, wraps a feather boa around your neck, presents you with a dried giant fake bouquet and tells you "Now, take your Walk!", like you're Miss America or something. I like that. Finishing chemo is a big deal.

I'm so glad this is almost over. I need a break from chemo in the worst way. In 4 weeks I can have he PET scan. Now, it's just a waiting game again. Limbo Land. I'm gonna just spend the next month eliminating this toxic shit from my body, then hopefully all those dreadful side effect will abandon ship. I can't wait to get off all these meds. Will it even be possible?

What will the PET scan show? Will my labs be good? Will he have to go in and look around again? Will I be able to go back to work? What if....? These questions, and more will be answered next month, and I AIN'T GOING THERE TIL I GET THERE.

For my graduation speech I'd like to say:
It's been a long, strange trip, Cancer.
I've worked very hard over the last year
to get the best of you.
So far, I've kicked your ass. TWICE, bitch!
You better stay down! I'm warning you!
FUCK YOU, RECURRENT METASTATIC SEROUS PAPILLARY
OVARIAN ADENOCARCINOMA.
I HATE YOU.
FUCK OFF AND DIE.

A Product Endorsement By Pateeta

Are you tired of trying to vomit into those flimsy plastic emesis basins? Or how about those airline barf bags? Even worse, horking out your car window while driving? Believe me, I can drive and hork simultaneously with the best of them, but I'm here today to introduce you to the latest in Barf Bag technology! Say goodbye to the traditional barf basin/bucket/bag and get your face into one of these!

My local hospital carries these Eme-Bags; they hang on the walls in a canister like a Dixie cup dispenser and you just grasp and pull and voila! You have what looks like a giant blue female condom! But I must say, I was sold on it after only one use! (the barf bag, not the condom).

You will not believe how versatile and convenient these babies are. They come in a fun color, are light, disposable, collapsible and totally portable. No more blowing chunks on your friend's leg or into the closest garbage can at the bike rally when you have one of these on hand. Small enough to fit in your purse or pocket. Keep one on your nightstand and you don't even have to get out of bed for those midnight puke sessions! And Boy Howdy, they sure can hold a lot. At least 40 oz! I believe it could even hold a lung if you happened to hork one up. Just look at the design and craftsmanship that went into these bad boys! Check out the handy measurements marked out for you. You'll never have to wonder again just how much your stomach holds. And hey, you can always use it for measuring when your kid breaks your favorite Pyrex measuring cup. I'm sure you can find DOZENS of fabulous uses for it!

So at your next chemo appointment or ER visit, be sure to ask for.... no, DEMAND the Eme-Bag! You'll be so glad you did. And get some spares.

Maybe later I'll tell you how I used it in my car this week. While driving with the top down during rush hour traffic. Maybe not.

Crab Ass Wendy Whiner

I have just had my next-to-last chemo. My CA-125 is back up to 20 from 12. I try not to get hung up on the numbers- it's still totally within the "normal" range (less than 35) but I'm not liking the spike. I have so much going on with side effects- all separate things that, by themselves, are irksome, distressing, painful or intolerable- all together are really fucking me up.

These days, everything I do (or want to do) requires deep consideration. With all the meds I'm taking, I have to be very careful. Should I take Xanax for anxiety, or narcotics for pain? Can't take 'em both, or even close to when I go to bed. Ambien or Seroquel to sleep? Ambien doesn't work for long and Seroquel is supposed to help with "sleep anxiety" and hot flashes. It's not helping. My Prozac was upped to 60mg a day to help with the hot flashes. That's a lot of Prozac. And it's not helping.

Chemo plays HELL with your GI tract, starting with your mouth. Bleeding gums, mouth sores- fuck that. Got some new mouthwash- it's called Magic Mouthwash, and the pharmacy actually had to compound it for me. It's got a LOT of Lidocaine in it, some antibiotic, antacid and something else. I have to make sure I've eaten first because I'm a total mush mouth after using it.

When it comes to eating, I have to consider what will taste the best when throw it up. Or if it's even gonna pass through. Gross, right? All my cancer/chemo buds know exactly what I'm talkin' about. Laxatives? Sure. Bring 'em on. They're not working. When I need to take a Vicodin after using the bathroom: I AM NOT HAPPY CRAPPER.

I even got some anti-nausea patches called Sancuso. Good shit, Maynard. Especially when they STICK like they're supposed to. They last for 5 days, and in combination with Zofran, Compazine and some steroids, they work great. But I've had 2 patches fall off after 1 day (yes, I put them on right- I'm not a total dipshit).

The sinus thing is driving me crazy. It's been dripping for a year since I started chemo- apparently because my nose hairs are gone, and bleeding and scabbing for about 6 months. It's not going away and feels like it's going deeper.

Thanks for lettin' me share my list of woes. Doesn't make it any better, but maybe y'all know something I don't about fixing them (besides stopping chemo and all meds). I see a lot of doctors now, but see an ENT and a GI doc in my future. Fuck.

Herbals, anyone?

The countdown begins... (again)

Only 3 more chemo infusions to go. I'm getting #1 right now. I had to call out my cheer leading squad to help me through this next month. When I did chemo last year, the last month was the worst/hardest/had more side effects. 4 weeks after the last chemo I'll get the PET scan and see what we see.

I'm so tired of all this. Thank you to my docs, nurses, girls, friends, family, and everyone else that prays for me, distracts me, makes me laugh, brings me chocolate, and helps me find my Zen. Thank you. I love you all.

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.

Wah.

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.

Dodgeball

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.

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.

Still spinning

Got discharged from the hospital yesterday, and was back today for another episode of lung/rib/chest pain. Workup showed no new embolism. Got morphine, Lovenox, prescriptions, sent home. When I come back to earth I'll try to make sense of it all.

Where do I even start?

I was actually feeling good enough to go out for a little while on Saturday night to see the band. I spent a lot of time on my 38 hairs and makeup, and drew on my best eyebrows EVER. Cute boots, jeans that fit, jewelry, perfume, the whole 9 yards. I don't get out much any more, and besides, it was my birthday. It was about 9:30 and I'm ready to go, just had to run the dog out first.

So I take the dog out. It's a nice night. The neighborhood is quiet. No cats to chase, so the walk is pretty uneventful. I come back home and hang up the leash, and I get this weird pain in my left ribs- like when you're running and get that stitch in your side? I thought "WTF?", and gave the dog his cookie (everything is cookies to him). Suddenly, I felt like someone had put the Vulcan Nerve Pinch on me. I gasped, and couldn't draw a deep breath.


Well, shit. Stabbing pain in my ribs. Vulcan Nerve Pinch on my neck. That could only mean one thing. Well, it could mean several, actually, but it really meant that I was all dressed up and had only the E.R. to go. Of course, I drove myself- the hospital is only 6 blocks away and by the time I called 911 and EMS got here I coulda died (I know, I've seen them try to get into my apartment complex at night when the gates are closed). Called my dude, told him I wasn't gonna make it to the show tonight, and said "but don't worry! I'm fine! It's probably a pulled muscle or something. Do your show, do your thing, then come up to the hospital, I'll still be there in a few hours. I'm fine! I'll call you if anything happens." I'm a frequent flyer at my local ER so I know how long it takes to do a cardiac workup and find out it's nothing (about 4 hours). Yeah, yeah. I know.

Workup shows I have PULMONARY EMBOLISM, or blood clots in my lungs. Can you believe this howdy doody? It feels like my ribs are broken! Needles, needles, needles, port access, heparin, dilaudid, morphine. Don't remember much after that. To be continued. . . .

Tomorrow's my birthday

Last year on my 48th birthday I met my oncologist for the first time. The day after that, he was removing parts from my body. The day after that, he told me I had advanced metastatic serous papillary carcinoma, or Stage III-C, Grade 3 Ovarian Cancer that had spread to my omentum, spleen, and some lymph nodes. I had not had any symptoms before this.

This past year has been full of shocks, decisions, uncertainty, debilitating pain, fear, needles, needles, needles, chemo, side effects, facing mortality, recurrence, more chemo. But it's also been full of deep reflection, spiritual growth, and unwavering love and support from those who know me, and also from some who didn't know me at all. I've met so many good, kind, caring, generous and loving people during this adventure.

I've already been through the worst. Turning 49 should be a breeze.

Suck it up, Buttercup

Okay, so I guess I'm not dying right away. Good thing, cuz I'm not ready yet. Pity party over.

CT results are "looking good" mid-chemo, meaning that no new stuff is showing up, and some old stuff isn't there any more. SAA-WEEET!!! Got started back up with chemo today (Topotecan and Avastin). I'll do another 3 months with that, but I gotta admit it was really nice being off for these past few weeks. I was almost back to humanoid.

As soon as the chemo kicks in I'll be back in the bubble, (not the same as chemo-brain) but that's okay- I know that place, and it only lasts a few days at a time. It's the rabbit hole I'm afraid of. My oncologist tells me that there are a lot of good things happening with Avastin. I hope so.

Thanks to my peeps for keeping me going. You know who you are.
Big love,

Here there be monsters

Fear, depression, fatigue or pain can take you to some pretty dark places. When you have them all, for an extended period of time, you go pretty deep down the rabbit hole. So much going on but no answers to anything. Too many meds. Weird side effects. Yeah, I know it's cancer and chemo- but I don't have to like it. I'm just trying to survive it. It's also been dark and cold and rainy for the last couple weeks, so maybe that added something to it.

My appointment with the onc yesterday got rescheduled because of an emergency (glad it wasn't me) so now I have to wait ANOTHER week to discuss my recent CT results and The Plan. This makes 4 weeks off chemo, right in the middle of treatment. I don't like this. Not one bit. This is what I get for demanding shit (CT scans) in the middle of treatment.

But today, as I was curled up in my blanket, with my ass growing roots into my couch and my cold, dead fingers wrapped around the remote- I thought "GET YOUR ASS UP. YOU'VE GOT SHIT TO DO." Then my sweetie came home and said "Hey! We gotta get some SUN in here!" and went around opening blinds and such. Then we went out for pizza. As far as my CT scan I'm going with the "no news is good news" approach. Ain't much else I have the energy to do.

Stay away from rabbit holes. That way lies madness.

Weekly roundup

It's been a bad week. I had the barium CT on Tuesday, and have to wait til NEXT Tuesday to get any results. Did you know that barium can exit your body at the most random times? (You know what I'm talkin' about, Willis.) Wednesday night I was in the ER (2nd trip this year) for severe pain in my left calf. Had a 4 hour workup for DVT but all tests were negative. I was given a new rx for Percocet and sent home. It still hurts like a mofo, and all my major joints are painin' me, too. I have to decide whether to suffer the pain, or fall into oblivion with the Percocet. The Percocet wins, every time.

My support group at the Wellness Community yesterday were awesome, as usual. I need to go there as much as I can because I find comfort there, from many sources. If you have a Wellness Community in your area, I encourage you to check it out. It's free.

I really shouldn't be PUI (posting under the influence), but it sure makes for some interesting reading the next day.

Very Berry-Yum

Tomorrow I'm getting the mid-chemo CT I demanded.
Keep your fingers crossed that this 2nd round is working and I get a clear scan.
Thanks!

There Are Days That. . .

I just want to sleep.
All I want is chocolate.
I'm so anxious I'm could pop.
I'm really sad.
I hurt all over.
I'd rather swallow Drano than go to chemo.
I don't even remember.
I feel over medicated.
I miss my life.
I'm really mad.
I don't want to answer the phone.
I want to cry.
I could use some good news.

And then there are nights. . .

Grateful

So grateful to my family, my friends, my dude, my kids, my dog, my docs, my employers, coworkers, church people, Singleton Moms, the Black Sheep Motorcycle Ministry, Happily Ever After League, Sisters In Survival, The Wellness Community and everyone else who took the time to hold me up, lend a hand, help me out, pray for me, and love me. I wouldn't be here without you. I am blessed.

Happy Feet

Turquoise is my favorite color (and purple). I had to have these. I got purple high-tops. I'm a dork, I know.

Don'tcha hate it when

you can't remember where you hid your stash? I mean . . . . stashed your . . . um . . never mind.

Back in the Bubble

The Bubble is where I live after chemo. It's all in my head; the dizziness, the nausea, the feeling of being pumped too full of liquid, or like an overfilled helium balloon with the top of my head trying to float off. It's like riding the merry-go-round for too long. I need to remember to tie my head down.

Tomorrow will be infusion 3C at Club Chemo and I will be halfway done with treatment (again). I saw my PCP last week about the ringing in my ears, nosebleeds, insomnia, and the fact that I'm losing my mind. He told me I'm pretty much SOL about the tinnitus (ringing), there isn't really anything that can be done. I figured they could just bong me with a tuning fork and re-set something. Guess not. (I'm sure a bong wouldn't hurt, though)

The nosebleeds could be from the dry air, or maybe because my nose constantly runs while I'm on chemo and I've just worn a hole in my septum with all the wiping and blowing. Either way, it hurts like hell and will bleed at the most random times; at the grocery store, while driving, or walking the dog. Hopefully, it won't get any worse or we'll be talking about cautery. Inside my sinuses.. Lord help me.

As far as insomnia and extreme anxiety go, I'm trying out some new meds. We'll see how that goes.