Cancer Musings (the first haircut)

Tonight I got my hair cut for the first time in 14 months. It's a strange and fascinating thing to watch your hair grow back from scratch. It's very different from getting a haircut you didn't like and then waiting for it to grow back out. When it's growing out from nothing, it takes whatever shape it wants to and you can't do much about tt. It took seven months to get it to its current length. The back of my hair was growing faster than the front, and I could tell if I didn't do something soon, I would be heading toward mullett-ville. 

The hairstylist who cut my hair was very kind and understood my story when I told her about it. However, she did ask me a question that mystified me, and my confusion showed on my face. She said, "Do you want to keep the layers in there?" It was a very strange question to me since I had done nothing to cause any layers in it up to this point. I said, "I guess I'm not prepared to answer that question." She giggled at that response and told me my hair did have layers in it now, which makes sense considering the possible mullet action happening. I left the final decision in her capable hands and came away with a haircut with which I was pleased.

Before 

After

Cancer Musings (Oncology Appt-Cycle 7)

I have now completed cycle 7 of drug X and today I met with the oncologist to get labs done and talk about the next steps. Tomorrow I will start cycle 8 of drug X, which will be the last cycle in this course and the last in my chemo treatments. I am scheduled for CT scans of the chest, stomach, and pelvis on February 28. I will then meet again with the oncologist in early March to review the results and see if any further action needs to be taken. In theory, this was my last oncology visit for treatment courses in this journey. 

As I was standing in line to get checked in to my appointment this morning, I struck up a conversation with the lady behind me. She looked to be in her 30's . I could see that she came with her parents. They were all carrying bags and looking a little unsure. I asked her if she was getting treatment done that day. She said, "Yes. It's my first treatment." She asked me a few questions about my own diagnosis and if I had lost my hair. When I asked her about her diagnosis, she said it was breast cancer and admitted that she barely remembered what it was called and didn't understand much about it. She said, "It's a subject I never wanted to have to know about. I just want it out of my body". I can relate to that. The cancer journey and treatment process is all so overwhelming in the beginning. Information is coming at you fast and furiously, and most of it seems like a foreign language.

After we both checked in and sat in the waiting area, I searched my purse for a blank piece of paper (seriously searched for about 5 minutes--how can there be so many things in that small purse and nothing to write on?) I finally found a small card and wrote down my name and number and told her to call me if she ever just needed an ear as she navigates through this journey. I think it meant as much (if not more) to her mother as it did to her. I'm grateful to God for every one of these unexpected encounters with other lovely human beings along this journey. And I remember how helpful it was to me when someone reached out to me in an unexpected way during an appointment. 

Greg wasn't able to join me at this visit, so I flew solo for my last appointment for drug X. I've been so grateful for his support and companionship all along the way. 

Cancer Musings (Oncology Appt-Cycle 6)

Today marked the end of cycle 6 on drug X, which brought another follow-up oncology appointment. It's good news that I've been able to tolerate the drug for 6 cycles and will likely make it through the last two cycles. My feet and hands (and appetite and taste buds) will be happy to make it to the end of this drug journey, as they have all been beaten up on this process. God is faithful and good, and He is sustaining me through this journey. 

I was solo at this appointment, as we've entered the busy season for Greg's job right now.  Check out the long, curly locks below (well, we're getting there anyway). 

Cancer Musings (Oncology Appt-Cycle 5)

Well, nothing says Merry Christmas like an oncology appointment. The end of cycle 5 on drug X just happened to fall on today (Christmas Eve), and they were open, so we scheduled the appointment for today. It actually worked out well because both Greg and I had the day off of work. 

I'll be starting cycle 6 the day after Christmas. Lowering the dose last time around slowed down the side effects to my feet and allowed me to tolerate it for another round. The goal is to get me through 8 cycles of the drug, so we're getting closer to the finish line. Yay!

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Cancer Musings (Oncology Appt-Cycle 4)

Today I spent time at my part-time job of attending medical appointments. I don't recommend it as a career  choice.  The money and hours are lousy. It takes more than it gives.

Today was a lab appointment, a 6-month surgical follow-up appointment (who knew?), and an oncology appointment. I was there for about 3 hours. 

I'm about to start cycle 5 of drug X, and the side effects for my feet are becoming a bit much. The oncologist decided to lower the dose. I was relieved. The hope is to get through 8 cycles of this drug (6 cycles at the least). If I had to continue on the current dose, I have doubts I would make it to 6 cycles. My feet are very red and becoming sore. We'll see how it goes on the lower dose. 

Greg wasn't able to attend this appointment, so I went solo. Every appointment, I have a little more hair to show off in the picture. Very exciting!

Cancer Musings (Don't Overthink It)

Every couple of weeks, a new prescription of drug X appears in the mail. It is a chemotherapy drug It is packaged in a plastic bag that contains the words CAUTION: HAZARDOUS DRUG. It is accompanied by several sheets of papers containing cautionary words warning me not to let anyone else touch this drug, and if I touch it I should wash my hands before touching anything else. When I read those words, it does not escape me that I will be putting a large dosage of this drug into my mouth and swallowing it, twice a day. 

If I think about this for too long, I won't put this drug into my mouth. So, I don't think about it. I pray. I trust God. And I move forward with the prescribed plan. I ignore the well-meaning comments from friends and family telling me that they would not take chemo and only choose a course of natural remedies if they were diagnosed with cancer. I ignore it because I know now that you don't know exactly what you will do until you hear the words: "I'm sorry. You have cancer." Even then, you're often stuck between a hard decision you don't like and another hard decision you don't like. 

So ... I pray. I trust God. I move forward with the prescribed plan. And I remember that "In the infinite wisdom of the Lord of all the earth, each event falls with exact precision into its proper place in the unfolding of God's divine plan. Nothing, however small, however strange, occurs without His ordering or without its particular worthiness of its place in the working out of His purpose; and the end of all will be the manifestation of His glory, and accumulation of His praise. 

 

Cancer Musings (Oncology Appt-Cycle 3)

I just finished cycle 3 of drug X. Today I had my oncology appointment where my labs were checked and the plan was made to continue on with the next 21-day cycle (#4). The goal is to complete 8 cycles, but I can stop at 6 if I'm unable to tolerate it. So far, I'm tolerating it. It's rough on my hands and feet. It's painful and requires a lot of application of ointments and creams, which is time consuming. I've learned that consuming massive amounts of time is the most predominant side effect of the cancer journey. It's also the side effect that no one talks about.

Another strange side effect that goes with the hand and foot syndrome symptoms of this drug is that I no longer have fingerprints. Strange but true and said to be a temporary side effect. The fingerprints should return after the treatment course is over. Thankfully, my most recent phone uses face recognition or passcode technology and not a fingerprint reader. Otherwise, I'd be in trouble. 

All in all, the cancer battle is moving along toward the halfway mark in this final treatment. And God has proven Himself to be faithful and true all the way through.

Greg has come to most of my oncology appointments and we've kept up the habit of taking our picture together each time. Here's today's picture, the first without a hat in many months: