Escaping Cancer Land

The steroid insomnia hasn’t been as bad this time, but it’s obviously hitting me a little bit on this final day.  What’s on my brain right now has little to do with cancer and chemo except that for a moment it helped me to feel something else and to even forget about it. 

Sometimes people know what they will do with their lives, professionally I mean, but sometimes the world throws you curves and you end up in a place that was wholly unexpected but not unwelcome.  There are always parts of a job that are monotonous or drive you crazy but then there are days like today.  I have a strange job, but only in the sense that people often tell me they have no idea what I do.  I manage a small veterinary clinic which is supposed to mean that I work mainly with people: employees, client relations, etc.  But having worked there for over a decade now, I have watched people’s pets grow from puppies and kittens to senior pets.  I have become dear friends with clients and held them in very difficult times.  I will give people my cell phone number because sometimes that is just what you do. 

Living in Houston (especially during an oil crisis) has also meant that I’ve had to learn the ins and outs of shipping pets internationally.  This is not glamorous but it is complicated and it is serious because if done incorrectly some countries will euthanize an animal upon entry.  It’s stressful and expensive and for some reason I find myself drawn to helping people through it.  Maybe it’s living vicariously through someone else’s adventure or maybe it’s figuring out the process and making a plan (that’s the stage manager in me), but regardless, I take it very seriously and I enjoy doing it despite the anxiety. 

Today I had two major issues, a dog that I have known for almost a decade and who is beloved by my staff was having a pretty major neurologic episode and the doctor and I were having a difficult time getting her into the specialist.  I’ve been working shortened hours because I get so tired, but I wasn’t going to leave until we got the dog on the way and the medical record sent.  While we were finally getting that wrapped up, a new client came in who was supposed to be travelling to Central America with his dog today.  He had gotten the paperwork done in Colorado but the paperwork was wrong.  It wasn’t the right form, it wasn’t endorsed by the USDA, it wasn’t even done within the right time frame.  I got on the phone but quickly discovered we were out of luck, there was no way I was getting this dog on a plane within 24 hours. 

I can’t explain it, but I felt a kinship to this man and so for the next two hours he made phone calls, I worked on paperwork and we did as much as we could to figure out a solution.  It was still up in the air when I was starting to leave, but we had options which was a step in the right direction.  He was still sitting on the step as I was leaving and he asked me for a ride.  He had taken a cab because he’s not from Houston, this was just a quick stop from Colorado on the way to Central America and he was staying with friends.  I paused for just an instant and then waved him and his dog toward my car. 

Do I normally invite bearded, tattooed strangers into my car?  No.  But sometimes in your life, you make connections and you trust your instincts.  It was a delightful car ride.  I found out that he is dancer/performance artist going to teach English through movement in Central America.  That’s kind of when it all made sense, a dancer from Colorado, he was my people.  You just know them when you see them. 

I had a similar experience in college when I found myself in charge of volunteers and operations at a Space Convention.  I went to a friend’s house to pick up a total stranger who was going to be my partner in this brand new adventure and was faced with the most adorable bearded man who to this day is still one of my favorite people on the planet despite not having talked in years. 

I was exhausted when I got home yesterday, but I was happy.  I felt like I had helped someone and that for one fleeting moment, cancer didn’t enter the equation.  I could just be me.

Expect the Unexpected: Chemo Day Number 2

My second treatment was quite a bit different from the first.  This time I had to see the doctor before I got started, just to go over how I responded to the first treatment and make sure there wasn't anything that needed to be adjusted.  My lab work has continued to look good and he was happy with my progress.

I received the same pre-medications as last time, but they started me on a faster drip rate of the chemo because I did okay last time.  Ten minutes in I got really hot and my chest tightened.  I felt like I couldn't breathe and my husband went for the nurse.  When he got back, he said that I had turned beet red and my ability to breathe was getting more and more difficult.  They stopped the chemo and switched me over to straight saline fluids.  It got better quickly and they gave me more benedryl and waited for about 20 minutes.  When they started the chemo again, they started it very slowly and then gradually increased it throughout the day, which meant that instead of being there for 5 hours, I was there for 8.

I didn't have any other adventures but the allergic reaction was scary.  This time there were other people receiving chemo at the same time and it was nice to have people to talk to who were going through the same thing.  Last time I was tired as soon as I got home, but this time I felt pretty normal until around 7 pm and then I crawled in bed to rest.

The steroids do a number on my sleep pattern which is why I was wide awake at 2:30 am.  Thankfully, there is still a fair amount of British television I haven't seen to keep me occupied.

I am confident going into the recovery period having been through it once.  I did well staying ahead of any nausea.  I take steroids the first three days after chemo which as I said before do a number on my sleep pattern, but they do help me to feel relatively normal.  The hardest part last time was the four days after the steroids.  Neuropathy (pain and numbness in the hands and feet) kicked in right away and the fatigue was pretty bad.  But two weeks out, I felt good, and then my hair started falling out.

Losing my hair has consumed a lot of my brain power.  Once it's gone, I probably won't think about it as much, but the process has been bizarre.  Paul took the clippers to my head as soon as it started and then again a few days later to go even shorter.  It itches and while I'm wearing bandandas when I go out and at work, I don't wear anything at home because it itches so bad when I do.  Not having to shave my legs is nice and my skin feels really soft.

Knowing that I only have to do one more treatment is comforting.  This New Year's holiday will be very special for me as I hope to feel not just like myself again, but as a better version of myself.

Lori Petty Eat Your Heart Out

Washing my hair this morning, my fingers ended up covered in quite a few strands of my hair and I thought, oh here we go.  I got ready like normal but as I was going through the morning, I noticed that I was shedding a lot.  There wasn’t a huge clump, but there was a lot on my clothes and the couch.  Paul and I talked about it and we decided that today was the day to buzz me down.

Sex and Fertility

This post has been a long time coming considering my history with trying to get pregnant.  Note: If for any reason the idea of me being sexually active makes you uncomfortable, this is not the post for you…but I did give birth so, you know, I am.

When Paul and I first decided we wanted to start a family he was hesitant, a normal reaction I think.  He is a very logical human, he wanted to make sure that we were prepared to provide for a child in the best way possible.  At that point I was twenty-six and oh boy was I ready.  So I did what I do, I researched and read until I knew everything I could about my body and my fertility.  I was ready!  But unfortunately, you can’t research a baby into existence and time passed with no luck.  I knew that you have to give it a year before you freak out so we did that.  But then I started to freak out so I went to see a doctor.  I ended up seeing multiple doctors and I won’t bore you with the details, but I was eventually diagnosed with PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome).  Boiled down that means that every month my ovaries have a little party and I developed a lot of follicles that rarely progressed to being fully developed eggs.  So I started taking fertility drugs.  I did five rounds of a medication called Clomid that helps your hormones develop a fully functional egg…it also makes you an emotional basket case, but just for about 5 days.  No luck on the Clomid.  Then for a year I was on a medication called Metformin, which is actually a medication for diabetes but has a side effect that apparently readjusts your hormone levels.  That was also not a pleasant experience.  Because it was for diabetics, my body stopped being able to process sugar in the same way, so I just felt sick to my stomach all the time. 

So years are going by with no luck.  Anyone who has gone through this, and there are a lot of us, understands what this means.  It means that you cry every month when your period comes.  You have calendars and charts and schedules and sex is suddenly no longer about enjoying your partner, but it is your duty to do it correctly!  You lay in weird positions afterward, you prop your hips up with pillows and you pray to the gods that this time is the time.  In the summer of 2012 I got pregnant and there was much rejoicing!  It was totally natural, I was so over drugs by that point.  But I lost it at around 7 weeks and I was devastated.  Having been through that experience and having talked to many of my friends, early miscarriage is so incredibly common but that does not make it any easier.  I didn’t want to tell anyone, but I had to because I had been so excited that I had told all of my parents (I have a lot of those) so it was a series of very painful phone calls. 

But I will say this, having a miscarriage brought my husband and I closer together.  We were able to grieve together and after that we were both in the same mind frame that we were ready to be parents.  Looking back, everything happened the way it was supposed to because 2013 ended up being a difficult year for me.  I lost my grandmother who was basically my second mom and my dad got very, very sick.  That is his story to tell but it was a very painful and memorable time.  In some way I cherish it because I got to spend a lot of time with my dad but you never want to see your father in pain.  I learned a lot about myself during that time and once we were through the really scary part I was determined that now I could focus on getting pregnant again. 

We were back on a sex schedule, but this time I was intense about sticking to it.  There was one night we were having one of those stupid fights where you just constantly bicker and we were lying in bed and I announced, “I don’t want to talk to you but we have to have sex tonight!” I like to think that was the night because now it’s a hilarious memory.  But who knows, all I know is that I got pregnant and we did a happy dance in the kitchen at 5:30 am holding a pregnancy test.  Pregnancy after a miscarriage is tenuous and there is a lot of fear but we had a great time and ended up with the most perfect little girl. 

So fast forward to cancer time.  Now we have a toddler who is hilarious, stubborn, smarter than I would sometimes like and moving a million miles a minute.  Having a hysterectomy is a lot like having a baby.  Doctors are not very nice to husbands.  They looked at them daily and say, “No sex for at least 6 weeks, I’m serious.”  It’s a broken record and in the hospital, I promise you, sex was the last thing on our minds.  But then you come home…and you start to feel better, and if you are a research person like I am you read WAY too much on the internet.  One thing my doctor had said to me a few times in the hospital that I didn’t really key into until I got home was, “Call me if you start having any sexual dysfunction”.  Feeling like crap, I blew that off, I had bigger things on my mind.  I don’t know why, but one day when I was feeling better, those words hit me and I suddenly had the realization that I was a thirty four year old woman who may not be able to achieve orgasm anymore.  That was not okay! 

You have to understand, I do have long term effects from the surgery.  The outside of my right leg is numb and will be probably be numb for months.  So it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that I had nerve damage in other places.  Everything I read said different things, because everyone has a different experience.  People who had fibroids before their surgery said that sex was ten times better, others said it was more painful. 

I am happy to say that there is no damage, but it is different.  I am physically different, there is no getting around that and menopause does a number on you. 

I often forget that I no longer have a uterus.  I see babies and I think about “when” I have another one and then I remember that I can’t do that anymore.  As an only child myself, I am perfectly aware that it is a fine option, but in the back of my mind, I did always hope for two.  Feeling grateful throughout this process has really helped me readjust when I start to feel sad, but not being physically able to have any more children is going to take some getting used to.  Especially because that was a main focus in my life for so many years.  Sex without concern or expectations is liberating and knowing that I won’t ever have a period again is cause for much rejoicing.  But it’s a mixed bag.  

First Things First: Chemo Day Number 1

Today I had my first round of chemo.  I was loaded up with a ton of stuff: blankets, book, audiobook, food, knitting, water and an enormous cooler with dry ice and cold caps.  I’m going to just jump right in and say, the cold caps are not for me.  I am very happy that they exist and I know that they help a lot of people but they were very uncomfortable.  Heavy, and I know that it’s obvious when I say they were cold, but my whole body was shaking under two blankets and the headache was intense.  The way that the process works, you have to put them on an hour before treatment, throughout treatment and then four hours afterward.  I was miserable, so my theory is, this experience is bad enough without feeling like that and my hair will grow back.  I already ordered some cute scarves, so just call me Sinead.

The rest of the process went really well.  It was long because they have to go slow.  First they gave me Benadryl, Zofran, Zantac, and steroids to prep my body for the chemo.  There were two different chemo agents that are given back to back, so after all was said and done I was there for about six hours.  Benadryl knocks me on my ass, so I did sleep a little bit, and I was really tired when I was done.  After resting at home for a little while, I did go outside and take a long walk and that made me feel a lot better.

I have oral meds to combat nausea and that mixed with the steroids for three days means that I will most likely feel pretty good for the next three days and then the nurse said that I can expect flu like symptoms and fatigue. 

I am having some bummer issues with the menopause.  The hot flashes have arrived and they are annoying.  They aren’t horrible but they happen unexpectedly and I know when they are about to hit because I get really dizzy before I’m suddenly one very hot mama.  It goes away relatively quickly but then I get really cold.  I was really hoping I was going to manage to skip this problem, but so far they are manageable, just a nuisance.

I go back in three weeks for my next treatment.  I have to get blood work weekly to watch my blood count and make sure I can handle it.  So here we go.