Two infusions left!!! I'm so psyched. October will be the last month of active treatments. It's about time!! I know a lot of people say herceptin is no big deal, and in comparison to active chemo, it really is a walk in the park; however, it's like a walk in a park that has fallen into ruin, where the swings are missing seats, where the grass is strewn with trash and has more bare patches than grassy patches, and where the trash cans are stinky and surrounded by flies.
Yes, it's still a park, but....
So, I'm all burbly and tired and bitchy, all of which is compounded by the lunch I ate, I'm sure, which consisted of a turkey burger with avocado, cheese, and bacon. I so rarely eat meat of any sort any more. If it wasn't the lunch that is making me feel so horrid, then the reactions I'm getting to the herceptin are getting worse each treatment. I'm going with the "it was the lunch" theory for now.
Yet, were it the herceptin, I'd only have to experience this two more times in my life. If it's the lunch, then....damn.
I also had an appointment with Dr. Mo today. I so heart spending time with her. A good doctor will keep you alive as long as possible. A great doctor enjoys living with you, you know?
Of course, she's so busy and I'm no so low priority that I first had to see her practice doctor and this physical therapist she now has on staff. In doing so, I got to share my story at least twice. And they all deemed me doing well, doing wonderfully, fine, excellent, spectacular!
I could have told them that.
The practice doctor was concerned that I'd lost 9 pounds in 9 weeks. However, since I've been working out and eating less, that's actually rather ideal and not a sign of cancer (personally, I think he was reassuring himself, not me when he said that). He was concerned that I'm still fatigued and that my last labs showed that I'm anemic and have micro-blah blah blah hemoglobin yadda yadda yadda. At that point I mentioned that I have thalassimia and that's all normal. Furthermore, I don't feel anemic fatigue...I'm well versed in that feeling having had it all my life. However, not being an MD or someone else who knows what she's talking about, he ordered more labs and had written a prescription for iron...
Gotta love Dr. Mo, she looked pointedly at him when she came in the room and asked, "Didn't Dawn tell you she has thalassimia and her numbers were, therefore, normal for her. She can get labs done in the spring when we see her again. Now, just so you know in the future, you might be tempted to prescribe iron for someone with her numbers, but that is exactly what one doesn't do for people with thalassimia."
Vindication is an awesome feeling.
She then said that she could tell I was doing well, so let's not waste time with that. What changes am I frustrated with now that it should all be over and people probably think it's all over.
God bless her.
She then validated everything I've been feeling and frustrated with. The fatigue, she says is worse for women over 40 and under 70 who go through treatment. She also said it was perfectly normal to feel 10 years older, not just in energy level, but in joints and muscles, and **20** years older mentally.
I mentioned that I'm still having problems with my feet, and she said to use this opportunity to shop for all new shoes and better quality socks. When I told her that was what I'd been doing, she asked me for brand names and stores (she, too, has foot issues and finds many shoes uncomfortable). She told the practice doctor that this was all important information and that he might need to get his female nurses to solicit such information from female patients. And then the information needed to be passed on to his nurses so they could help other women with similar problems.
I then told her that the worst problem was my diminished cognitive capacity and not only does it make me sad, but it's really affecting my mood. She said that cognitive diminishment is now "in the books" and that this area will probably get some of the most rigorous research in the future, now that they've gotten nausea and other chemo side effects controlled. She suggested giving it a full year before I really start to worry, suggested some ways to work with it--such as exercise and sleep, reading and some other forms of stimulation--but also said that the women who notice it the most are the ones who had the most to lose, which is a nice compliment, I suppose, but still really sucks.
Although the practice doctor didn't think that Ambien would help me with this issue, Dr. Mo agreed with me that if I were to be able to go to bed and immediately fall asleep, guaranteeing a little more sleep each night with less chance of awakening, I'd find that I'd function better at work and maybe not be so volatile with my children.
Validation is nice.
So, overall, everything is going well. I don't see Dr. Mo again until MARCH which is sort of scary, but also wonderful.
I have two more herceptin infusions. And my reconstruction surgery three weeks after the last one, and then, for all intents and purposes, it's all over and I can pick up the remaining bits and pieces and be the new me.
Meanwhile, I continue to prepare for running a half marathon in November as my pre-surgery psych-up.
Showing posts with label doctors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctors. Show all posts
Monday, September 13, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The more things change
...the more they change.
I've always been one to choose fewer medical interventions over more. When I was having babies, I chose midwives. When I chose midwives, I chose ones that were not interventionist. I had one baby at home. I managed my son's ear infections with alternatives to ear tubes when it looked we were going to be encouraged to go that route.
When I have a cold, I have my own way of handling it that has always worked pretty well.
It's rare that I take antibiotics; my kids need clear symptoms of bacterial infection before I'll give them antibiotics. I was all about minimizing antibiotic usage before the medical community jumped on the bandwagon.
Then the whole cancer thing happened.
Once a person is diagnosed with cancer, there is no "bandwagon" per se. It's a high speed bullet train. Or at least it is with breast cancer. There are scans of various types: CT, PET, MUGA, MRI, probably more that I've forgotten. There are blood tests and appointments. Various minor surgeries: biopsies and port placements.
Suddenly, you have to decide on doctors to treat you. Before, I'd always chosen doctors willing to work with my quirky ways. Our family doctor, I chose because I knew I had a kid with pneumonia, our current doctor (at the time) couldn't see him and wouldn't call in an antibiotic until he did...instead he suggested I take the kid to the ER, so I called a doctor who was advertising for new patients in the paper. It's a good fit. His passion is sports medicine. We've used him quite a bit for that, too, and he at least doesn't argue with me about my quirkiness.
But when it comes to cancer. Wow. How do you decide? A bad decision could hasten death at best, result in imminent death at worst. I am very fortunate that I had a friend I could turn to, and I chose her dream team of doctors. My cancer is pretty black and white. "Garden variety" as my oncologist put it. The treatment is pretty much the same from doctor to doctor, clinic to clinic.
This is not something that I want to take chances with. I've read of people "going off the grid" so to speak with their cancer treatments. I respect those choices, but I'm not willing to do that. I'll take my supplements to enhance treatments, to support my health during treatments, but not in place of treatments.
Um, no way.
I did make one unconventional choice in all of this. That being to have a tissue expander inserted on the side to be radiated. My plastic is OK with it; it's pretty cutting edge in the literature; it makes the radiation a little more challenging; it gives more options for final reconstruction if it works. If it doesn't work, nothing is really lost. Because I heal well, my breast surgeon and my plastic surgeon trust that--physically--I won't have a problem. It's up to the expander. It needs to survive the radiation. The radiation oncologist I first saw wasn't pleased, but he was young and had little experience. I've since switched to a different doctor in the same practice (there really is only one radiation oncology practice here) who has 25 years of experience, was recommended by my plastic surgeon, and didn't bat an eye at "the plan." Personally, I'd not choose the guy as a friend. He was pretty off putting, didn't make eye contact, hadn't read my chart before coming in to examine me, very off putting bedside manner.
And that's the thing. I'm NOT choosing a friend. I"m barely choosing a partner in my care. He can be horribly offensive to me, as long as he's good at what he does. I am trusting he will not damage my heart too badly (there will be heart damage, it goes without saying). I don't have to live with him. Or even share a meal with him. I need him to do his job, do it well, and I have to trust that neither my oncologist nor my plastic surgeon, both women very proud of their work, would recommend someone if they thought he was going to impede their work.
All of which is a long way of saying that I've made some choices in the last six months I might not have given great consideration to in the past. For instance, my family all got the H1N1 vaccine. No questions asked. My family and I all got the seasonal flu vaccine. My first ever. Tynan's first vaccine ever. No questions asked. I didn't even investigate other alternatives. Whatever was in the doctor's office was fine.
And today, I started taking antibiotics for a cold. Why? Because if it is more than a cold, it needs to be dealt with. I don't have an intact immune system. I'm sure it's a virus, though, because I don't have symptoms of a bacterial infection. Plus, I've already taken a child to the doctor for this same illness, where I was told, "It's a miserable cold." Truth be told, my child was so miserable that I was hoping that he'd be prescribed antibiotics. Alas, he just had to suffer. Even cold medicines barely touched the symptoms. Then, the other two kids got it. Same progression of symptoms. No fever. Typical cold symptoms .
At the same time, if I'm on antibiotics, there is that much less of a chance that I'll get a secondary infection. Or, the antibiotics will cure any little bacterial infection lurking in there. Hard to imagine that there isn't some sort of bacterial infection in full, snotty sinuses.
Even more importantly, if I'm on antibiotics, I'm less likely to be turned away from chemo on Friday.
The only thing worse than getting chemo is not getting chemo.
As much as I dread it, it needs to be over. Friday is my last chemo. It just needs to end. And if I take these antibiotics, the infusion nurses are less likely to freak out about less than ideal health.
So, without even thinking about it, I skipped off to pick up my zithromax. Yep, Z-Pac for a cold. I've never taken such a strong antibiotic in my life. None of my kids have taken it.
Interestingly, two hours after taking the first dose, I actually think I feel better.
Maybe it wasn't just a cold.
I've always been one to choose fewer medical interventions over more. When I was having babies, I chose midwives. When I chose midwives, I chose ones that were not interventionist. I had one baby at home. I managed my son's ear infections with alternatives to ear tubes when it looked we were going to be encouraged to go that route.
When I have a cold, I have my own way of handling it that has always worked pretty well.
It's rare that I take antibiotics; my kids need clear symptoms of bacterial infection before I'll give them antibiotics. I was all about minimizing antibiotic usage before the medical community jumped on the bandwagon.
Then the whole cancer thing happened.
Once a person is diagnosed with cancer, there is no "bandwagon" per se. It's a high speed bullet train. Or at least it is with breast cancer. There are scans of various types: CT, PET, MUGA, MRI, probably more that I've forgotten. There are blood tests and appointments. Various minor surgeries: biopsies and port placements.
Suddenly, you have to decide on doctors to treat you. Before, I'd always chosen doctors willing to work with my quirky ways. Our family doctor, I chose because I knew I had a kid with pneumonia, our current doctor (at the time) couldn't see him and wouldn't call in an antibiotic until he did...instead he suggested I take the kid to the ER, so I called a doctor who was advertising for new patients in the paper. It's a good fit. His passion is sports medicine. We've used him quite a bit for that, too, and he at least doesn't argue with me about my quirkiness.
But when it comes to cancer. Wow. How do you decide? A bad decision could hasten death at best, result in imminent death at worst. I am very fortunate that I had a friend I could turn to, and I chose her dream team of doctors. My cancer is pretty black and white. "Garden variety" as my oncologist put it. The treatment is pretty much the same from doctor to doctor, clinic to clinic.
This is not something that I want to take chances with. I've read of people "going off the grid" so to speak with their cancer treatments. I respect those choices, but I'm not willing to do that. I'll take my supplements to enhance treatments, to support my health during treatments, but not in place of treatments.
Um, no way.
I did make one unconventional choice in all of this. That being to have a tissue expander inserted on the side to be radiated. My plastic is OK with it; it's pretty cutting edge in the literature; it makes the radiation a little more challenging; it gives more options for final reconstruction if it works. If it doesn't work, nothing is really lost. Because I heal well, my breast surgeon and my plastic surgeon trust that--physically--I won't have a problem. It's up to the expander. It needs to survive the radiation. The radiation oncologist I first saw wasn't pleased, but he was young and had little experience. I've since switched to a different doctor in the same practice (there really is only one radiation oncology practice here) who has 25 years of experience, was recommended by my plastic surgeon, and didn't bat an eye at "the plan." Personally, I'd not choose the guy as a friend. He was pretty off putting, didn't make eye contact, hadn't read my chart before coming in to examine me, very off putting bedside manner.
And that's the thing. I'm NOT choosing a friend. I"m barely choosing a partner in my care. He can be horribly offensive to me, as long as he's good at what he does. I am trusting he will not damage my heart too badly (there will be heart damage, it goes without saying). I don't have to live with him. Or even share a meal with him. I need him to do his job, do it well, and I have to trust that neither my oncologist nor my plastic surgeon, both women very proud of their work, would recommend someone if they thought he was going to impede their work.
All of which is a long way of saying that I've made some choices in the last six months I might not have given great consideration to in the past. For instance, my family all got the H1N1 vaccine. No questions asked. My family and I all got the seasonal flu vaccine. My first ever. Tynan's first vaccine ever. No questions asked. I didn't even investigate other alternatives. Whatever was in the doctor's office was fine.
And today, I started taking antibiotics for a cold. Why? Because if it is more than a cold, it needs to be dealt with. I don't have an intact immune system. I'm sure it's a virus, though, because I don't have symptoms of a bacterial infection. Plus, I've already taken a child to the doctor for this same illness, where I was told, "It's a miserable cold." Truth be told, my child was so miserable that I was hoping that he'd be prescribed antibiotics. Alas, he just had to suffer. Even cold medicines barely touched the symptoms. Then, the other two kids got it. Same progression of symptoms. No fever. Typical cold symptoms .
At the same time, if I'm on antibiotics, there is that much less of a chance that I'll get a secondary infection. Or, the antibiotics will cure any little bacterial infection lurking in there. Hard to imagine that there isn't some sort of bacterial infection in full, snotty sinuses.
Even more importantly, if I'm on antibiotics, I'm less likely to be turned away from chemo on Friday.
The only thing worse than getting chemo is not getting chemo.
As much as I dread it, it needs to be over. Friday is my last chemo. It just needs to end. And if I take these antibiotics, the infusion nurses are less likely to freak out about less than ideal health.
So, without even thinking about it, I skipped off to pick up my zithromax. Yep, Z-Pac for a cold. I've never taken such a strong antibiotic in my life. None of my kids have taken it.
Interestingly, two hours after taking the first dose, I actually think I feel better.
Maybe it wasn't just a cold.
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