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, a bit painful, and requires a lot of application of ointments and creams, which is time consuming. But, I've learned that consuming massive amounts of time is the most predominant side effect of the cancer journey, and I've learned to live with and manage it as best I can. 

A 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: 

Cancer Musings (the hair journey)

My hair is finally growing back and at a comfortable length to wear in public. I dubbed today "wear your real hair to work day. I have ditched the wig, and I'm going with the pixie style from here on out (until it grows longer anyway). 

Here's my cancer hair experience in pictures. 

This is what my hair looked like in November of last year, when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer. 

I got my hair cut to a shoulder-length style in early December with the impending hair loss in mind. 

I started chemo on December 13, and the hair loss started shortly after that.

And the progression was rapid. 

I started wearing hats right away. 

All my hair was gone by December 31. 

I wore hats outside of work (even at home). At work, I wore a wig. This is the one I wore December through May. 

And this is the wig I wore June through October. 

I acquired quite a collection of hats during that time and enjoyed wearing them. 

This is what my head looked like on my last day of chemo (Taxol) in May. This is the only picture I allowed to be taken of it. 

This is what my hair looks like today. 

I'm grateful to God that my hair is back, and I was amazed to watch the process while it happened. 

God has made the human body to be very resilient, and I got a chance to witness that. 

When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I thought that losing my hair would be the hardest part of it. As it turns out, it was one of the easiest side effects I experienced in this process. 

I'm so grateful to God for sustaining me through this whole process. And I'm grateful to have hair again. 

Cancer Musings (Oncology Appt)

 Today I had an oncology appointment to check my progress on drug X. I just completed my second 21-day cycle of the drug. It's going okay so far. The side effects are manageable and my labs are okay enough to continue on. So, my "prize" is I get to take drug X for another 21-day cycle. 

Greg wasn't able to leave work for today's appointment, so I was on my own. Not only do I enjoy having him with me for a second set of ears and he asks good questions, he's also a much better selfie taker than I am. He was missed in many ways.

Cancer Musings (Appearance Reactions)

The part of this cancer journey that's been harder for me than I realized it would be has been absorbing the reactions of friends, family, and coworkers as my physical appearance changes. In the past 11 months, I've lost 80+ pounds, lost all my hair, and now have a completely different wardrobe. In some situations, I'm wearing a hat, in some situations I'm wearing a wig. My face is thinner, which has changed my appearance.  Even people who know me well sometimes don't recognize me when I walk into a room or when they see me out in public unexpectedly. 

A couple months ago I was talking to a coworker in the lunchroom who knows me but hasn't seen me for awhile because she works from home most of the time now. We were a good 5 minutes into the conversation when I realized she had no idea who I was. She finally asked me what department I work in. When I told her I was in the training department she looked at me quizzically for a moment trying to absorb that information and place me. I'm the only employee in the training department, so I knew it wouldn't take long for her to figure it out. And she did. 

The situation of a coworker, friend, or even a family member not recognizing me when I haven't seen them for a few weeks or months has become very familiar to me, and I've developed different strategies to lessen the blow for others and myself. I've become accustomed to entering the situation by saying, "Hi. It's Katrina". It's awkward, very awkward, but it does the the trick. 

Sometimes I tell people why I look different, and sometimes I just let them draw their own conclusions or ask me if they are curious enough and time and situation allow an explanation. My favorite reaction was from a doctor at work. He asked me, in a crowded room in the middle of a work day, loudly, "Katrina, why do you look so different?" I said,  "I lost weight and I have new hair".  He said with a smile on his face and chuckle in his voice, "That must be it." and went merrily on his way. Asked and answered. 

Many of the experiences that have come with this cancer journey I wasn't prepared for and wouldn't have known how to prepare for them. God has given me grace and answers at just the time I need them all along the way. He has been faithful. And I've learned He can be trusted in all situations of life.

Cancer Musings (Emergency Room Visit)

Today I made a trip to the emergency room at our local hospital. I was having some chest pains, which is a possible side effect of the most recent chemo drug I'm taking. Rather than spending the day second guessing if I was having a heart attack, I was persuaded I should go in and get it checked out. When you're going through cancer treatment, there is a tendency to constantly second guess every little thing that happens in your body. Is it a side effect of some treatment (because they all have side effects) or is it something more serious?

Everything checked out fine. No heart attack (likely some radiating pain from a strained muscle in my arm). We were out of there in under 2-1/2 hours, which is pretty good for a trip to the emergency room on a Saturday afternoon. 

This is a picture of the CNA who was on duty this afternoon. He performed the EKG and did the blood draw on me. I couldn't help but take his picture each time he left and walked back into the room (which I think he found a little distracting and slightly odd). He was very good at his job. Usually, it's pretty difficult to do a blood draw on me (hard to find a vein, many attempts are made), but this guy got it on the first try. I'm glad he was on duty today. 

He told me he wasn't on the schedule to work today; he had just picked up a shift. 

This was no accident or coincidence as far as I'm concerned. 

I believe God put him there at just that time. And I'm glad he was there. 

Oh yeah, "this guy" just happens to be my brother. 

Cancer Musings (Oncology Appt)

Today was my first follow-up appointment with the oncologist after starting drug X (chemo pill). The side effects have been less on this drug than the infused drugs were, for which I am grateful. I finished my first 21-day cycle and got the go-ahead to start the next one. 

Greg has faithfully attended every oncologist appointment I've had. And by the grace of God, his schedule allowed him to do so. It has been a blessing to have him with me during the appointments, as sometimes my head stops on a particular piece of information and doesn't continue processing the rest of what I'm hearing. Greg picks up the slack for me then and asks questions or retells me what I missed later. I'm so grateful for him. 

Cancer Musings (Swollen Legs & Tears)

I had a Physical Therapy appointment two weeks ago, and I'm finally able to talk about it. Ever since being on Taxol (which ended May 1), my legs have been quite swollen. The oncologist put me on a medication for it, but it was ineffective and brought its own side effects with it, so we discontinued it. I asked for a referral to Physical Therapy instead. I walked out of the physical therapist's office in tears. I wasn't upset by anything the physical therapist said or did, but I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of the treatment course. 

The "prescription" for the swollen legs was to engage in a process called "edema wrapping". This involves wrapping my legs from foot to knee in multiple layers of compression wraps (stretchy Ace bandages) every day and leave them on for 23 hours a day. I get one hour off for good behavior (and to take a shower). The physical therapist trained me how to do this rather technical process myself, so I wouldn't have to go to the office for an appointment to have it done every week. It takes at least 30 minutes to perform this task every day. If I follow the prescribed advice from my oncologist to apply a heavy-duty therapeutic lotion to my feet everyday (to avoid a side effect to my feet caused by the current chemo drug I'm taking) then I end up wrapping my legs twice a day. This news was enough to make a grown woman cry (and it did). The time consuming nature of cancer treatment (and all the side effects that accompany it) is overwhelming to the say the least. 

The idea behind this treatment is to reduce the swelling in my legs enough to reward me by ordering me a specialized (and spendy) pair of compression stockings that I can wear everyday instead of the bandages. 

Once I stopped crying, I determined in my heart to be a big girl about it and perform the treatment as prescribed. That appointment was two weeks ago, and the good news is that the swelling is reducing in my legs. I still have another week or more to go in the treatment, and by the grace of God my technique is improving and I'm shaving a few minutes off of the process each time. God is good, and He is faithful. He's been with me every step of this journey, even in the tears. Especially in the tears. 

Cancer Musings (The New Drug)

Last week I started the new chemo drug. We'll call it drug X. This drug is being used as a maintenance therapy. Triple Negative Breast Cancer is somewhat rare (10-15% of all breast cancers diagnosed are triple negative/non-estrogen dependent). It is aggressive (it grows fast). And it has a high return rate within 5 years. The lower the stage the better the chance of it not returning sooner. Mine was stage 1. 

There has been success in recent studies for women who have done this maintenance drug after traditional chemo, surgery, and radiation. A high percentage of them are still alive after 5 years. Encouraging and sobering at the same time. But, really, nothing has changed. My days have always been numbered. God has known the exact number of my days on this earth before I was even born. I will get no more than that and no less. And within that prescribed number of days is a story. I'm living out that story right now. Cancer is part of mine. It is one of the things God will use to bring Himself glory and allow me to see His goodness in all things. 

The way this chemo pill works is that I take it two times a day (3 pills/2x a day) for a cycle and then return to see the oncologist to check in and have labs drawn and get the okay to start another cycle. A "cycle" is 21 days. Within that 21 days, I take this chemo pill twice a day for 14 days and then I stop taking it for 7 days. Today is day 8 in the first cycle, and so far so good. It's not without its side effects (nausea and general chemo weirdness for lack of a better explanation), but it is tolerable so far. The goal with this treatment is to complete 8 cycles (about 6 months) if I tolerate it. 

And onward we go. 

Cancer Musings (Birthday)

Today is my birthday. I turned 55 years old today. I'm grateful for another year and the opportunity to glorify God on this earth. I've felt every moment of this year, and it's made me appreciate things more. 

No big outward celebration this year, but it was very celebratory nonetheless. I spent the day at work and enjoyed several coworkers stopping by to enjoy a birthday cookie with me. My coworkers have been so kind to me throughout this year, and God has used them to encourage me and keep me going throughout the whole year. 

For dinner this evening, Greg (and Papa-Larry) took me out to a restaurant. They were a bit surprised by my choice. Buffalo Wild Wings. I wasn't looking for expensive and I wasn't looking for fancy, but I was looking for chocolate cake. It is a little known fact (until today) that one of the best pieces of chocolate cake you'll find in a restaurant is at Buffalo Wild Wings. True story. Usually, Greg and I split a piece, but since today we were splitting it amongst three people, I ordered two pieces (happy birthday to me). Through most of this past year, I didn't eat chocolate because I couldn't stand the taste of it (an experience that had been completely foreign to me up to this point in life). The joy of tasting chocolate has returned for the moment, and I knew just where and how to celebrate that little victory. I had my piece of chocolate cake, and it did not disappoint. 

 I will be starting the new chemo drug (an oral pill) next week. My only request concerning this next treatment was to start it after September 4. I have felt physically well this past month, and I wanted to enjoy that feeling (and be able to taste cake) on my birthday. God allowed me that joy. He is so good, and He is in this story.

Cancer Musings (Oncology Appointment/Update)

Today I had an appointment with my oncologist to discuss the next chemo treatment. I was diagnosed with breast cancer back in early November, and in the past nine months I've had two courses of IV chemo (Adriamycin & Taxol), surgery, and radiation treatment. The treatments were hard on me, and the side effects were rough. They exhausted me and weakened me. At moments, they discouraged me. But far more than any other thing, I have been encouraged by the goodness of God and and the kindness of people through this entire journey. I can say with Nehemiah of the Bible, "the joy of the Lord has been my strength" (Nehemiah 8:10). 

In the past month, I have felt very good. My appetite and taste of food has mostly returned, and my energy levels rival those of pre-November days. I am so grateful to God for the gift of feeling well at the present time. 

Today's appointment with the oncologist went well, and I will start an oral chemo drug in mid-September. The purpose of the drug is to lessen the risk of recurrence. It has been proven to be effective in women with triple-negative breast cancer. I will be on it for six months. I'm not looking forward to the side effects that inevitably come with any chemo treatment, but they are reported to be somewhat milder with this treatment, and I should be able to keep the hair this time around. 

As is our custom, Greg and I made sure we took a picture together at this appointment, and you'll find that below. 

P.S. The hair is coming back. It's short, but it's there. 

Cancer Musings (Last Radiation Treatment #20)

Today was my last radiation treatment (20 treatments over 4 weeks). By the grace of God, the side effects of radiation were relatively minor for me. I did not experience the fatigue others reported, and the skin irritation was  minimal. The emotional side effects of radiation treatments were far more difficult for me than the physical ones, which caught me by surprise. 

I will not miss the daily schedule of radiation treatments. It was tricky to balance my work schedule and daily appointments. Even though the treatments only lasted about 10 minutes, the whole process (with drive time) took about two hours out of the day. 

God did provide many blessings for me in the middle of radiation treatments, though. I met new people and shared in their stories, which helped me process my own. My compassion for those experiencing ongoing treatments for any disease has increased. May I never forget what it feels like to have someone enter into suffering with you and may I do the same for others. 

Cancer Musings( Radiation Treatment #19-Surprise Visit)

Today was my 19th radiation treatment. As I was walking into the building for my appointment, I heard someone call out my name. When I turned around I saw Pam. She is the one I met the day of my first treatment who also had her first treatment that day, had the same diagnosis as me, the same oncologist, and the same treatment plan. I hadn't seen her since the second week of treatment because she switched to morning appointments and mine are in the afternoon. 

She remembered the time of my appointments and made a special trip over to see me. She said she had lost the card I had given her with my phone number on it and came over to see if she could connect with me before my appointment. We texted each other in the lobby so we would have the other's phone number in the future. I was so touched by the effort she made to connect with me. Since our journeys are on a parallel path, it will be nice to keep in touch with her. And she's a beautiful person. Everytime I see her, I leave the conversation feeling joyful. I'm so grateful that God, in His sovereignty, allowed our paths to cross on the first day of radiation treatment. 

Cancer Musings (Radiation Treatment #17-explanations)

Today was radiation treatment #17 and the first boost treatment. The two techs who performed the treatments today were very friendly and kind. They explained to me that the radiation would focus on just the tumor bed for these last four treatments, the setup would look different than I was used to, there would be an attachment on the machine, the treatments would take less time, and I wouldn't have to hold my breath during the treatments. Then I was asked if I had any questions about these new treatments. That is the first time I've been asked by a tech if I had questions since this process began, and I appreciated it immensely. I was downright giddy about it. It was an answer to prayer for me and made me feel comfortable with the experience. 

I'm grateful for the radiation techs who know their job very well and perform it with precision. I'm very grateful to God for sustaining me through this whole journey, providing what I need every step of the way, and for knowing what I need better than I know it myself. He can be trusted. 

Cancer Musings (Radiation Treatment #16-the boost)

Today I met with the radiation oncologist. Tomorrow, the new mapping they did last week will be put to use. The last four treatments will be called a boost. This means that rather than focusing on a larger area, they will focus on just the area of the tumor bed (where the tumor was removed). Only four left to go. Woo-hoo!

Cancer Musings (Radiation Treatment #14-Conversations)

Today was radiation treatment #14. Due to a computer update issue that affected the equipment used in the radiation treatments, the afternoon appointments were running behind today. I was taken back for the appointment an hour after the time it was supposed to start. This is highly unusual for this office. They have been very timely with appointments up to this point.

The hidden gem in the delay of the appointment (and the beauty of God's plan) was that I got to visit with women from the appointment ahead of me and the appointment behind me. 

Both women told me pieces of their breast cancer stories. Some details were the same as mine, some were different. I enjoyed talking with both of them, hearing their stories, getting to know them, and sharing common ground. 

At the end of both conversations, I asked the same question. "How are you doing with this experience, emotionally?" I was meaning the cancer experience. Both women had emotional reactions to the question. The first said she hadn't cried much through the whole experience (a little in the beginning, not at all through chemo), but the radiation experience has brought on tears. The second woman's eyes immediately welled up with tears at the question. She was still in the "mapping" and "dry run" portion of the experience and wouldn't have her first radiation treatment until next week. She spoke about chemo being physically awful but not as emotional as the beginning of this radiation process has been. 

It was interesting to all of us to realize that we shared this common denominator. We all agreed that confusion around what the process would entail and lack of explanation throughout the process increased the emotions around it. I think it was enlightening (and comforting) to all of us to know we were not alone in our feelings. I think we had been feeling a bit alone up to that point. 

I am grateful to God that He used this unusual interruption in the day to allow me to meet these two women and hear their stories. There are no accidents. God is in control of it all and uses it all for His purposes and for His glory.

Cancer Musings (Radiation Treatment #12-More Mapping)

Today I had radiation treatment #12. When I entered the room, a tech  asked me if I would have time to stay a little longer after the appointment, so they could do some "mapping" for the last few treatments. I told her I had the extra time and I could stay. I always think that further explanation for these mysterious questions will come later. Alas, that does not happen. In my experience, so far, not a lot of explanation is given by the techs for any of the processes that are taking place during the radiation treatments. 

I knew from an earlier experience that "mapping" meant I would be told to lie very still, talking would not be encouraged, my arms would be above my head the whole time, marks would be drawn on my body, 2-3 techs would be way closer to bare parts of my body than I would let a stranger come near in any other circumstance, and the doctor would come into the room to examine the work of the techs and give instructions without uttering a single word to me before leaving. Yep. It turns out I remembered that part correctly. 

After the "mapping" process I was told that the marks they made on my body would wash off and they would draw new marks on me each time I came in for treatment going forward. Why is the "mapping" changing and why were the new marks drawn? That piece of information was not given to me. 

Through this cancer experience so far, I found chemotherapy treatment to be physically difficult and very taxing on my body. But, I have found radiation treatment to be emotionally difficult. I didn't cry after chemo treatments, but I have left radiation treatments in tears at least three times now. I've learned that any appointment with the words "mapping" or "dry run" in them seem to be tear inducing for me. Radiation treatments (for breast cancer anyway) feel very personal and invasive. I often feel more like an object than a person. Though I do understand the need for precision and technicality in this process, and I'm very grateful for it, I also long for compassion and empathy in the form of explanations. 

God is teaching me, through this experience, the importance of compassion (both giving it and receiving it). I know I have lacked it towards others in my life, both knowingly and unknowingly. These experiences remind me of the great compassion of God. (But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness. Psalm 86:15). I'm grateful for the reminder of it, and I am grateful that He is with me every step of this journey. 

Cancer Musings (Radiation Treatment #9)

Today I had radiation treatment #9 and the last one for this week. So far, the side effects have been minimal. There is not much fatigue or skin irritation at this point, but I've been told those things show up heavier toward the end of treatment. 

A challenging part during the treatments is holding my breath. Because they are treating the left side, and that is where the heart is located, I'm asked to hold my breath while they are "radiating" that area to "move the heart out of the danger zone of radiation". The tech tells me when to take a deep breath and hold it. They say it will last 20-30 seconds, but it is usually 25-30+ seconds at least. I know this because I count it out in my head. And I'm asked to hold my breath 2-3 times during each treatment. At first, I found this very challenging, and I felt panicky about it, even though I was told just to let my breath out if I couldn't hold it any longer. I'm getting the hang of it now, and I feel a little more relaxed. I still pray my way through it every time though. 

At the end of today's session, a tech came out of the booth and said, "I tried to hold my breath for as long as you did, but I only made it halfway." Another tech came out and said the same thing. This made me chuckle, and I thanked them for their show of solidarity. It was nice to have it recognized that this is not an easy thing to do. 

I'm grateful to God that He is with me every step of this journey and providing me big and small things that help me along the way. He is faithful. 

Cancer Musings (Radiation Treatment #4)

Today was my fourth radiation treatment and the last one for the week. So far, by the grace of God, I have not felt much physical effect from the treatments. My energy has remained the same, but I'm told the side effects might not show up until a couple weeks into treatment. 

The treatments themselves are very short. They last only about 5 minutes. I'm in the office about 30 minutes total for each appointment. Once a week, I meet with a nurse and doctor for an examination and discussion of how the treatments are going. Those appointments last a little longer, about 45 minutes. 

I took the day off of work today. Before my appointment, I met with my friend, Kim, for lunch. She accompanied me to the appointment afterward and waited in the waiting room for me. It was nice to have her there. 

Cancer Musings (Radiation Treatment #1)

Today was my first day of radiation treatments. Treatments will happen every weekday for the next 4 weeks (with one extra day off for the 4th of July). It will be a total of 20 treatments. My last radiation treatment will be July 29. I set up the appointments for the afternoons. I've been managing to work full time so far through this cancer journey and plan to continue that, if my body allows, during the radiation treatments. My plan is to work in the office until 1:30 everyday, go to treatment, and then go home and work another hour or so from home. The big side effects that can happen with radiation treatments are fatigue and skin irritation/pain. I may have to adjust my work plan as the treatments progress depending on how side effects manifest themselves. It's a wait-and-see game for now. 

So far, the radiation treatment experience has been the most emotional for me. It took a long time for me to decide if I was going to choose a treatment course that would include radiation therapy or a more extensive (prophylactic) surgery plan. I chose radiation, and the road has been a bit bumpy ever since. 

Greg wanted to be with me when I went to my first treatment today, so we rode to work together and then went to the appointment together. I was very glad to have him with me before and after the appointment. 

I was nervous and emotional before arriving at the appointment because the "dry run" appointment didn't go very well. I was dreading this one. 

After I arrived at the appointment and was sitting in the dressing/waiting room, God calmed my nerves and provided a sweet surprise/distraction for me. A woman came out of her treatment and and into the room where I was waiting, and said, "Whew! That's done." and the following conversation ensued. 

She said, "Today was my first treatment." 

I said, "Me too."

She said, "I have triple negative breast cancer."

I said, "Me too."

She said, "And I found out when the radiation treatment is over, I have to do an oral course (pill form) of chemo for six more months."I said, "Me too."

She said, "Who is your doctor?" And I told her the name. 

She said, "Me too."

We talked for a just a couple more minutes before staff came to take me back for the treatment. She told me her experience with the first treatment and said it wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. She had a cheery disposition and was easy to talk to. It put my mind at ease. 

The first radiation treatment went well. I felt more relaxed than I had been in the previous appointments. I'm so grateful to God that He allowed me to meet "Pam" before my appointment. Talking with someone who is familiar with my exact circumstances was what I needed in that moment. God is very faithful, and He can trusted in all things. 

Cancer Musings (Radiation Dry Run)

Today I had an appointment with Radiation Oncology for something called a "dry run". The mapping was done a week ago, which allowed them to figure out exactly where on my body the radiation needed to be targeted. Markings were made on my body and several x-rays and measurements were taken that day. Today's appointment was for adjustments to the process and the final okay from the doctor that we were set to proceed with radiation treatment next week. 

This appointment was a bit awkward. The staff had a very precise job to do, and they were serious about it, which I respect, but they weren't very explanatory about it. I was asked not to move, which seemed to include talking or nodding my head. I was asked to hold my breath for 20-30 seconds at a time several times, but I wasn't sure why. I was in a very awkward position physically (undressed from the waist up with my arms above my head and holding onto a plastic bar). I felt exposed, vulnerable, and confused. Though I know it was not the intent of the staff helping me, I felt more like the object of a project  than a real live person. 

The appointment ended after about 30 minutes and I was given some vague instructions about what to expect when I returned for the first radiation treatment next week (where to change and where to wait, etc). I left that appointment feeling very emotional, and I was in tears. I was, however, relieved that I didn't actually experience radiation treatment today. 

I decided to stop at WalMart on the way home. Why? I'm not sure. I didn't need anything. I just wandered around for a bit trying to clear my head. 

When I stopped in an aisle to look at some clothes, I heard a man talking on the phone, loudly. It caught my attention and so did his voice. The man was several yards away from me, but I recognized him immediately. It was my brother. We haven't physically seen each other for a few months, so it took him a moment to figure out it was me since my physical appearance has changed a bit recently. We ended up standing in the far corner of the store, talking to each other, for quite some time. It was good to see him and very enjoyable to visit with him. God knew he was what I needed today. 

Unfortunately, in my enjoyment of the conversation with my brother, I did not pay attention to some of the physical clues my body was giving me. I had been standing in one spot for quite some time and I  started to feel lightheaded (an unfortunate side effect from chemo that still lingers). By the time I figured out what was happening and shortly after I uttered the words, "I need to sit down", it was too late. I fainted. In WalMart. 

My brother quickly recognized what was happening and had moved behind me to lower me to the floor. I was unconscious for about 30 seconds. I awakened to my brother yelling, "We need a wheelchair over here". A customer in the store rolled up on an electric cart and left it for us. My brother helped me onto it. Shortly after that, a store manager arrived to help us and brought me a bottle of water. She was very kind. When my brother explained my situation, the manager got teary eyed and explained that her mother had gone through chemo. She was very tender and very sweet. She hugged me. She offered to call an ambulance but I declined it since I was feeling much better. My brother called his wife who came and picked me up. She drove me home, and my brother drove my car home, for which I was very grateful.

I don't believe for a minute that anything that transpired today was an accident. I'm grateful God has all circumstances under his control and in His powerful hand and that He can be trusted. 

Cancer Musings (Radiation Mapping)

Today I had an appointment with Radiation Oncology to "map out" exactly where the radiation will be targeted on my body. This "mapping appointment" made sense to the medical staff setting up the appointment, and it made sense to the techs performing the procedure, but it didn't make a lot of sense to me.

I have learned along this cancer journey that medical staff make a lot of assumptions about what the patient is understanding about the procedure of the day. They have performed this particular procedure hundreds, maybe thousands of times before and know what to expect. 

In any appointment I attend, I'm told I can ask questions at any time, but I don't always know what to ask. For instance, never did it occur to me before this particular appointment began to ask if there would be any permanent marks made on my body as part of this "mapping" process. So, you may be able to imagine my surprise when during the procedure appointment I was told, "Now we'll do the tattooing" and "It's just a small needle, so you'll barely feel it." 

Shortly after the tattooing, I was told they would now put on the marks that would tell them where the "breathing box" was going to go. You might be asking, "What is a breathing box?" Me too. I'm still not sure. But, I was given the option of having the marks drawn on me with a permanent marker and covered with plastic tape (which I was told would be hard to remove and could be uncomfortable) or I could just have those marks tattooed on as well. This last decision paralyzed me in thought. I didn't know how to proceed. Thankfully, my indecision was a decision, and I was told they would use the marker and tape for now and I could change my mind about it later if so inclined. In the end, I was happy with my decision (or lack thereof) because the arrows they drew on my stomach and covered with tape were rather large. I would prefer those not to be permanent. 

In the end, clearly, I survived the appointment and lived to write about it. Each experience like this along the way continues to make me grateful that God is with me. He sees me, He knows me, and He helps me. It reminds me of the words that were said to Joshua in the Bible when he was given a task to do that was larger than mine, "Be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9)

Cancer Musings (Surgery Pathology Results)

I (and my husband, Greg) met with my oncologist today to discuss the pathology report of the cancer/tumor that was removed during surgery a couple weeks ago and discuss the future treatment plan. 

To the praise of God, there is much good news in today's report. There was no cancer in the lymph nodes. The margins were negative (meaning there were no cancerous cells found at the edges of the tissue surrounding the tumor). There was a very good response to the chemo treatment, but it was not a complete response. The tumor shrunk from 14x9 mm to 4x2 mm. The cancerous area was completely removed with the surgery. 

The next course in treatment will be 4 weeks of radiation. Because it was not a complete response to the first two rounds of chemo and to lessen the chances of recurrence within 5 years, after radiation I will be treated with an oral (pill) course of chemo for six months. The oral drug is said to have less (and milder) side effects than the infused drugs. Time will tell on that one. 

As I close this post, I'll return to the quote I referenced when I first shared the news of cancer back in November.

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 His divine plan. Nothing, however small, however strange, occurs without His ordering, or without its particular fitness for its place in the working out of His purpose; and the end of all shall be the manifestation of His glory, and the accumulation of His praise. --B.B. Warfield

I firmly believe that my current circumstances are not an accident and are being used by God for His purposes. He has my trust. 

Greg and I have made it a habit to take a picture at my oncology appointments. Here's the one from today. 

Cancer Musings (Eyelashes Fascination)

I have mentioned before that most people can grasp the concept that a person may lose the hair on their head as a side of effect of chemotherapy. But, many people do not realize that you can lose all of the hair on your body as a result of chemotherapy. You lose the hair on your head, arms, legs, etc., and you lose your eyelashes and eyebrows. I miss the eyelashes the most. They've been completely gone for a couple months.

About two weeks ago, I started to see little fuzzy eyelash stubs coming in, and I have been fascinated with the process ever since. I literally spend several minutes a day looking at my eyelashes in the mirror to see how much they've grown. My husband finds this to be a little weird, but I'm okay with that. He particularly finds it amusing that I'm amazed at how they all came in at the same time, the whole row of eyelashes, top and bottom. He said, "How did you think they would come in, one at a time?" I said, "That's how they left me, one at a time, so I wasn't sure how they would come back. This is my first time growing new eyelashes." 

I wouldn't have asked to lose my eyelashes, but I'm grateful to God that He's allowing me to witness a tiny part of how He created the body. It's amazing. God created our bodies to be resilient, and of all the lessons that chemo has taught me, I'm enjoying that one the most. 

Cancer Musings (Return to Work)

I have had two weeks off of work to recover from surgery. Thanks be to God, I have recovered well, and I'm feeling well and energetic again. I've never taken more than a week  and a half off of work (for vacation or otherwise) in the 22 years I've been at this company, so it was a new experience for me. 

Through this entire journey, I have been grateful to God for my employer (I work at a medical clinic, training employees how to use our computer system). Administration and fellow coworkers have been so kind, caring, and supportive. I was afforded the luxury of having a temporary employee hired for the two weeks I was away. It was someone who knew my job and did it very well in my absence. This made my return to work today so much easier. 

Though working full time through cancer and treatment has not been an easy road, I do not regret the decision to do so. I have seen a very kind side of humanity through this experience. Our church has recently challenged us to learn a different verse from each book of the Bible every week. Our first verse to memorize was Genesis 1:27, which reminds us that God created human beings, and He created them in His own image. I see that evidence in the people at my work, and I'm grateful for the reminder. 

Cancer Musings (Telling My Head What to Think)

I've found that these days it is best for me to tell my head what to think and not let my thoughts wander to every worry and possible outcome that comes my way through the information overload that is the cancer journey. 

A few ways that I inform my mind with right thinking is by reading the Bible every day and by reading books and listening to music that keep me grounded in who God is. 

I haven't read many new books during this time, but I have returned to classics I've read through the years that are tried and true and always spur me on to right thinking about God and circumstances in the middle of trials and suffering. I've listed three books below that are on that list, and I've shared links to them (by clicking on the title) if you're interested in checking them out further: 

1. Keep a Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliot 

• Elisabeth Elliot was a missionary in Ecuador in the early 1950's whose husband was murdered while attempting to make contact with members of the Auca/Waodani tribe. She went on to write many books over the years about suffering, the trustworthiness of God, and the blessing of obedience to Him. Keep a Quiet Heart is one of my favorites, and I've read it several times. It is a collection of essays she wrote in her monthly newsletters over a period of many years. I think the title of the book is aptly named. In it she points readers toward a deeper, more fulfilling, and restful walk with God. 

2. 31 Days of Praise by Ruth Myers

• Ruth Myers and her husband, Warren, wrote this book. It leads the reader through a month of praising God through a prayer everyday highlighting His goodness and thanking him for it. A friend of mine gave me this book in 2009, and I have returned to it many times over the years. My copy is highlighted, underlined, dogeared, and written in. 

3. A Grace Disguised by Jerry Sittser

• This book was written in 1995 by Jerry Sittser a Christian college professor who lost his wife, mother, and 4-year-old daughter in a tragic car accident on the same day, leaving him to raise his three remaining children (8, 7, and 2 years old) on his own. I first came across this book shortly after my parents moved in with us. A line from this book was quoted in a book I was reading about caregiving at the time and it intrigued me, causing me to purchase the book. 
• The subtitle of the book is "The Soul That Grows Through Loss", and that is really the focus of the book, catastrophic loss. We all experience losses in life in may different ways whether it be through the death of a loved one, a divorce, illness to one's own body, or myriad other ways. How we process and move through loss makes all the difference. This author processes his loss in an honest, raw, and open way while always focusing on God. It's one of the best books I've ever read. I've returned to it many times over the past 8 years. I've read it at least 10 times, and I'm reading it again during this season of cancer. 

One song that has come to my mind continually during this journey is "God Leads Us Along" written by George Young in 1903. It speaks to the many different seasons of life that God leads us through and stays with us through. It also speaks to the fact that we don't all experience the same trials and hardships or the same joys and pleasures, but we come to salvation in Christ the same way, only through His shed blood on the cross. The words of the song are a comfort to me, and the melody is beautiful. I've listed the words to the verses and chorus below and added a link to the song below that. 

Verse 1: Thru shady green pastures so rich and so sweet, God leads his dear children along

Where the waters' cool flow bathes the weary one's feet, God leads his dear children along

Verse 2: Sometimes on the mount where the sun shines so bright, God leads his dear children along

Sometimes in the valley in the darkest of night, God leads his dear children along

Verse 3:Though sorrows befall us and evils oppose, God leads his dear children along

Thru grace we can conquer, defeat all our foes, God leads his dear children along

Chorus: 

Some thru the waters, some thru the flood

Some thru the fire, but all through the blood

Some thru great sorrows, but God gives a song

In the night season and all the day long

Cancer Musings (Surgery Day)

Today was the long anticipated surgery day. Greg and I arrived at the hospital at 7:00 am. Surgery was scheduled for 9:30. 

All the way through this cancer journey, there have been little surprise pieces of information that you have no choice but to process in real time and move forward or completely shut down the appointment. One of those surprises came this morning. There was this mystery appointment on the schedule this morning, a procedure before the procedure if you will, that was being called a lymph node injection. After they got me prepped and ready for the surgery, they wheeled my bed down to the area where this appointment was taking place, "Nuc Med" as it was called (that should have been my first clue). Right before the tech was about to do the injection, he said, "We're just going to inject a tiny bit of radioactive material into you so that the surgeon can locate the right lymph nodes."  My mind did get stuck on the words "radioactive material" for just a few seconds. That's when my mind processed and moved on. I didn't feel I was in the best position to get up and run down the hall and out the door at that particular moment in time.

After the injection procedure was done and my bed was wheeled back to the room, Greg was brought back there to sit with me until I was taken to surgery. Shortly, after they brought him back, we had a surprise visit from my friend Kim who was able to come back to the room and sit with us until I was taken to surgery, which didn't end up being until after 11:00. It was nice to have her there. She stayed with Greg in the waiting room while I was in surgery too. 

I spoke with the surgeon before the surgery and she said that I had already been through the hardest part, chemo. She said many people don't make it all the way through chemo because it's too tough on their bodies and they aren't able to tolerate it. That's another thing I'm glad I didn't know before this whole journey began.

The surgery went well. They removed the cancerous area and two lymph nodes. We left the hospital by 3:30. I am, of course, sore this evening but the pain is manageable. 

This is the official report from the surgeon to Greg: "The initial pathology results indicate no cancer cells, only scar tissue where the cancer once had been. She is 95% confident that I am cancer free with the initial testing, but they will test every cell removed in order to get a fully confident verdict. So far, it looks good."

I meet with the oncologist on June 19 to go over the pathology report with her and get the final results. If the final results show that there was a complete response to treatment, and the cancer is gone, I will proceed with radiation treatment for 4 weeks. I praise God for the successful surgery and this encouraging initial report. He has been faithful every step of the way, no matter the news from the medical team or the side effects. 

I will be out of work for two weeks now recuperating from the surgery. I am very appreciative of all the prayers and encouragement I have been receiving from family, friends, and coworkers. Thank you all.

Cancer Musings (Post Chemo Update)

Today marks 4 weeks post chemo treatments. The side effects continue to work their way out of my system. My appetite is returning, and I can taste food a little more every day. I still can't smell anything, but someday that will return as well. No hair in sight yet, but of all the side effects and symptoms from chemo, baldness has been the least worrisome and the most manageable. 

Despite my best efforts at icing my hands and feet during chemo treatments, I did get neuropathy (numbness and tingling) in my feet with the very last treatment. It showed up a couple days later along with redness and burning in my calves and swelling in my legs. A high quality lotion and compression stockings (so fun) are managing the last two symptoms. Walking every day for at least a mile or so is helping with the circulation in my feet and allowing me to tolerate the neuropathy.

The physical therapy sessions I've been attending have worked wonders on improving my strength and stamina. And by the grace of God, I'm now able to walk and exercise the same amount I was able to pre-chemo treatments. 

God has been so faithful all along this journey and continues to sustain my body (and my mind). I am grateful. 

Next step: Surgery on June 3. 

Cancer Musings (Nutritionist Follow-Up)

In an earlier post in November, I mentioned that I started seeing a nutritionist for high cholesterol back in early October but after my cancer diagnosis the focus turned toward how to stay healthy during cancer. And this nutritionist has a background in nutrition aimed toward Triple Negative Breast Cancer (my specific diagnosis). Click here to read that earlier post. 

Today I met with the nutritionist for the 5th time. Every visit with her has been very helpful. Since eating has been a struggle every step of the journey through chemo, I've needed all the advice I could get along the way to help me get food into my body. Every time it felt hopeless in my own eyes, the nutritionist would suggest something to try and it would help me get by until the next side effect knocked me down again. There was nothing she suggested that I didn't try at least once. Not all of the suggestions worked for me but many of them did. 

Two suggestions stood out to me along the way: 1. Put a drop or two of bitter tonic (herbal medicine) on my tongue a half hour before I ate a meal to stimulate the appetite. It sounded crazy and it tasted terrible, but it worked  2. Try a protein powder (collagen peptide) that had no taste or texture to it and dissolved clear when stirred into liquid. Many people had suggested protein powder to me before that but every one I found was flavored and I couldn't get it down. Her suggestion worked for me and got me through a couple rough months as one of my main protein sources. 

This time when I met with the nutritionist, she gave me suggestions for how to get more protein and more calories into my body, so I can start gaining back muscle and strength I've lost along the way. 

She has been as crucial a part of my treatment process throughout this whole experience as the oncology team has been. 

I thank God for putting this nutritionist in my path and allowing her to be part of my story. I am amazed at His provision. 

Cancer Musings (No Chemo Day-So Happy)

Today is the first Wednesday in three months that I didn't have to go into the clinic for a chemo infusion, and I am so happy about that. Here's the thing about chemo that most people don't know unless they've experienced it or been close to a loved one who has experienced it. The worst day is usually not the day you have the infusion (unless you have some kind of reaction). That day can be a bit inconvenient and long, but generally I felt okay on that day. Even the day after chemo was usually a pretty good day for me. It's the days that that follow chemo that are difficult days. That's when the side effects kick in. And for me, because I was a bit prone to reactions during the process, they filled me with a lot of extra drugs the day before and the day of chemo to get me through the infusion. Every one of those drugs had their own side effects. So, I spent the rest of the time leading up to the next infusion battling side effects and trying to get my strength back a little so I could do it all over again. 

Today, I do not have to do it all over again. That is a relief, and I'm grateful to God for it. And did I mention, I'm so happy! 

It will probably be awhile before the side effects settle down. I haven't been able to smell anything for three months, which is a very odd experience. Literally, I do not smell anything. And I taste very little, which continues to make eating difficult for me. Oh yeah, and I don't have any hair. Most people don't realize that it's not just the hair on your head that you lose. It is all of your hair. I don't really miss the hair under my arms or the leg hair, but I do miss eyebrows and eyelashes. Eyelashes are not just decorative. They are functional. It's a bit difficult keeping a pair of contact lenses in your eyes without eyelashes. Trust me on this. 

I've heard from my oncology team and several new friends who have gone through similar treatment that it can take 3-6 months for the hair on your head, taste, and smell to return. Encouragingly, I've heard that the eyelashes are the fastest to come back. That's an upside. My contacts will appreciate it. 

There's a bit of road to travel in this journey, but progress has been made. God is good!

Cancer Musings (Physical Therapy)

Though chemo ended last week, my part-time job of attending medical appointments has not ended. A new study has shown that breast cancer patients have benefited from Physical Therapy before surgery to regain strength lost during the chemo process. I was asked if I would be interested in trying that. I'm all about the resources, so I said, "Sign me up". 

I lost a lot of weight during chemo (70 pounds) and consequently, I lost muscle too. I fatigue very easily. My instinct in all of this is to move less and rest more. So, I have been surprised that since I've started attending Physical Therapy (3 sessions so far) that the more I move, the more I can move. It was recommended that I try to take at least three 10-minute walks a day (as well as at least 3 days of some strengthening exercises). That seemed impossible at first. But, the more I do it, the easier it is and the less fatigued I am. I'll have 3 more sessions before the surgery date. 

I'm grateful for all the resources God has provided along this journey, and that He knows me better than I know myself. He knows what I need and He provides it. 

Cancer Musings (Last Chemo-Taxol #12)

Today was my 12th treatment of the Taxol drug, and my last one in this regimen. No more infusion appointments. I am very grateful for that, and it is worth celebrating. I also celebrate the end of sitting with ice packs on my hands and feet for an hour each time (the ice packs will not be missed). 

The last appointment went very well. No complications at all. The practice at this infusion center is that when you complete your course of chemo, they make a ceremony of ringing a bell. All the infusion staff comes out and they clap for you and cheer as you ring the bell. Three of us got to ring the bell today at different times, as we completed our chemo courses. It was a nice bit of closure for this part of the journey. The infusion staff was so knowledgeable, kind, and compassionate through the whole process. I thank God for them. 

The next step in this process is surgery (lumpectomy) to remove the area where the cancer was found and some lymph nodes. That is scheduled for June 3 (outpatient surgery). A week or so after that, I will meet with the oncologist to discuss the pathology results. If it is a complete response to the chemotherapy (no cancer remains on pathology report), it will be followed with a course of radiation to lessen the chances of its return. If signs of cancer remain on the pathology report, it will be followed with an oral (pill) course of chemotherapy. At this point, there have been two ultrasounds of the area since starting chemo, and the tumor remains undetectable, but they don't know for sure until they biopsy the area at time of surgery. We are trusting the Lord with the outcome and the next steps. Prayers for us to do just that are appreciated. 

I've posted the pictures from today below as well as the video of me ringing the bell. My goal was to get through the end of these chemo sessions wearing my favorite winter hats. Thanks to the cool, rainy weather this week, I was able to pull it off. 

Cancer Musings (Taxol #11)

Today was my 11th treatment of Taxol. Only 1 left to go, and I am grateful! This past week was a bit of a low-energy week for me and more of a challenge for me to eat food, though by the grace of God I was able to do so. I still don't taste much, and I can't smell anything, but God continues to give me the ability to eat because I need to and not just because I want to (the opposite of how I've done it in the past). 

My only appointment today was lab & chemo, and it went well. No reactions, and we were out of there fairly quickly. We're very thankful for that.

This is a busy week of appointments for us. Monday I started Physical Therapy. I qualified for a program they are calling Pre-Hab (preemptive rehabilitative therapy/physical therapy)  . Because I've lost a lot of weight quickly during the chemo process (and lost muscle mass), I am weaker and don't have much stamina. The physical therapy is being recommended to get me stronger before I have surgery. I'm already seeing some improvement in stamina in the short amount of time I've added in some of the recommended exercises. I'll continue with the PT appointments once a week until I have surgery (likely sometime in June). 

Tomorrow, I am scheduled to see the radiation oncologist for a consult. Radiation, which I will have if I choose to go with a lumpectomy as surgery (vs. a mastectomy), is the process I have the most questions about and feel the most unsettled about. Greg will go with me to this appointment. Prayer for us as we prayerfully consider the information and move forward with a decision is appreciated.

I've included a picture below from today's appointment. 

Cancer Musings (Chemo Day - Taxol #10)

Today was my 10th treatment of Taxol, only 2 more to go. Oddly, I had a small reaction to the pre-med of Benadryl this time around, which I've been receiving for the past 9 weeks without issue. Chemo is weird that way. Things can change quickly. It was controlled quickly, my blood pressure came down, and we proceeded with treatment. They will lower the dose of Benadryl next week. 

I had 4 appointments today, so it was a busy day. I met with my oncology provider, lab, and infusion which are part of the normal process, but in between those appointments, I also had an appointment with a surgeon. Surgery is an inevitable part of this process and one I haven't talked much about yet. With other forms of breast cancer, often surgery is done first (often a mastectomy) and then chemo is done afterwards to kill what ever cancer cells are left. With triple-negative breast cancer, in many treatment plans, the opposite course of action is taken. It's chemo first and surgery last due in part to the aggressive nature of this form of cancer. 

I was nervous about this appointment today because I'm very unsettled about the decision of surgery. The surgeon I met with today was the first provider I met when I was diagnosed back in November. She delivered the news to me and gave me the details about the diagnosis. It didn't go that well. She was very nervous about telling me that it was triple negative breast cancer, and I was very confused about what that meant and why I was meeting with a surgeon if I was going to have chemo first. No one has talked to me about surgery since that day 5 months ago, so I didn't know what to expect for today. 

With my previous apprehension, much prayer, and Greg at my side, I met with the surgeon today, and God answered many prayers in that appointment. I did know ahead of time that the choices in surgery would be lumpectomy or mastectomy. If I choose lumpectomy, it would be followed by a course of radiation. If I choose a mastectomy, it would be followed by reconstructive surgery. I wasn't excited about either of these options. 

The surgeon couldn't have been kinder or more compassionate in today's appointment (she even asked to hug me at the end of it). She spent a lot of time with the two of us and answered all our questions. She gave me referrals to all the team members (plastic surgery, radiation oncology) so I could gather more information before I made a decision. Surgery can't be done until at least 4 weeks after chemo ends (to give the body some time to recover), so it will take place sometime in June but has not been scheduled yet. By the grace and provision of God, I feel more ready to make a decision about surgery and a little more at ease. 

It was a full day, and I was grateful to have Greg with me through all of it. It has become our habit to take a picture together at each chemo appointment and today was no exception. 

Cancer Musings (Spring Hat)

Today was a beautiful, unseasonably warm April day in Minnesota. The thermometer hit 81 degrees. I also had an unusual amount of energy for a Saturday (which is usually a harder day in the after-chemo cycle for me), which prompted Greg and I to go to a local park and take a walk. 

Recently, I was talking to my friend, Sue, and telling her that the hard thing for me about seeing the warmer weather come is that I'd have to stop wearing my favorite winter hats to cover my bald head. I live in those hats and prefer them to the wig, but there is a point when winter knitted hats with pom-poms start to look ridiculous (and get pretty hot). Upon hearing my lament, my friend ordered a spring-summer appropriate hat for me and gave it to me. That was such a kind thing for her to do. I've mentioned before that the kindness and compassion and generosity of God and people has been what has overwhelmed me (with gratitude) the most during this cancer journey. 

It was the perfect hat for today. I was grateful to God for the opportunity (and energy) to use the "spring" hat for the first time. 

Cancer Musings (Chemo Day - Taxol #9)

Today was my 9th treatment of Taxol. Only 3 more to go. I had several good days last week and was able to eat more food than usual. I thank God for that. Greg was able to be with me today, which I am also grateful for. 

Though I'm nearing the end of chemo, I'm not nearing the end of this journey quite yet. There will be a surgery in my future (lumpectomy or mastectomy). I meet with the surgeon again as part of next week's appointments to finalize some of those decisions There needs to be at least 4 weeks between the last chemo session and surgery, so it will likely be in June and will require a recovery period and time off of work. Prayer for that decision is appreciated. 

I've worked hard through this journey to share it with others all along the way (such as with this blog). I ask for help from the Lord to celebrate what I can celebrate and mourn what I need to mourn. He is helping me to do that. One way that I do that is to make sure we take a picture at every chemo session/appointment. You'll find the picture of Greg and  me at today's appointment listed below..

Cancer Musings (The Cancer Train)

When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I felt like I was on a runaway train that I couldn't get off from. And I kept saying that over and over. The "train" was set in motion, and I couldn't stop it. There were so many phone calls and appointments and decisions. There was no break from it. That feeling hasn't changed that much since the beginning of the process, but I have learned to roll with it and embrace it as time has gone on. 

I started to use the "train" as an out of the ordinary way to journal the process. I cut out little paper train cars and wrote down the different appointments, treatments, side effects, etc. that have come with the cancer experience. I don't want to forget what has happened along the way. I want to remember it and use it to fuel compassion for others I encounter along the way and in the future. 

I posted the train on the wall next my favorite chair in our bedroom, so I can see it and be reminded. 

It didn't take long and I made a second train. The first one I call the "Cancer Train", and the second one I call the "Gratitude Train". On the gratitude train cars I'm writing down all the kind things God has done through people and answered prayer since this journey began (cards in the mail, meals delivered to our door, encouraging conversations, etc.) It keeps things in perspective for me. 

It's a work in progress, and my prayer is that in the end the Gratitude Train is far longer than the Cancer Train.