lunhs cancer

Since this is my last cycle with my first-line chemo triplet (carboplatin/alimta/avastin), I thought I would give a little more detail about the experience. Check me out, I'm getting nostalgic. Day 0 (day before infusion) : I start the pre-med steroids, and the effects kick in by evening. I feel amped up and my joints start arching, particularly my hips. Plus I get this weird insatiable hunger, with pronounced cravings for meat. I am unable to fall asleep until after 4 am. Day 1 (infusion) : I start with a blood draw to check that my blood work is good enough for the next onslaught of drugs. This goes off without a hitch, in and out with little delay. Next stop is the oncology department. My oncologist is out of town, so I have a quick check in with the nurse. My blood counts look good so we go ahead with the treatment as planned, and schedule my next CT scan for November 8. I am leaving oncology at 9:15 am and head over to the Infusion Center for my 10 am appointment. At 12:45 pm ...

It is day 4 after chemo (cycle 6), so I am pretty wiped out. My exciting outing for the day was a quick haircut at Great Clips, since we are going to have some family photos taken on Tuesday and I thought I should try to look decent. We have been meaning to get photos done since the girls were born (yes, over 2-1/2 years ago) and we are finally doing it. I hadn't realized how complicated small talk with strangers can become when tackling a major health issue. My friendly stylist chatted away, as they always do, asking me what I was up to today. WHAT I THOUGHT : Sleeping, recovering from chemo, trying to eat a lot of calories and keep my fluid intake up. WHAT I SAID : Oh, I have had a pretty relaxed day. Just taking it easy. Somehow the conversation came around to what I do, which is a weird topic of conversation for me now, because I am still in grad school, but only taking 1 class, and I am only working very part time. She asked what I was studying, I replied Theater for the Youn...

On Tuesday I am due to have cycle #6 of this chemo cocktail (carboplatin, avastin, alimta), the second of my "bonus rounds." For some reason, cycle #5 has been incredibly kind to me. Sure, I had lots of the annoying side effects, (a weird taste in my mouth, tingling hands and feet that become incredibly sensitive, plus I got a stye in my eye) but those left after about a week. The fatigue is always rough, but this past week I have felt my energy returning to levels much higher than before I started chemo. The main thing is that I can breathe so much more clearly.  After I was diagnosed, I remember looking around our backyard, and I noticed that I had placed a lawn chair next to every one of the kids' play areas. I was so short of breath that I could not stand for any length of time to play with them. I didn't go up to Zander's room because I would be so very winded by the time I reached the top of the stairs. In those days, having a shower and walking back to our ...

23 years ago today, at age 14, I was diagnosed with osteogenic sarcoma of the right humerus. It is strange that now I have to refer to that as "the first time I had cancer." I recall driving to the biopsy early that October morning, when the first fingers of Minnesota winter were really starting to grip the state, covering everything with frost and making the air harsh and brisk. I looked out the window and thought to myself, quite dramatically, "thus begins the winter of my life." The doctors very strongly suspected that the biopsy would come back positive for cancer, and told me they would be able to tell by looking at the specimen for just a moment under a microscope, so the plan was to keep me under anesthetic and put in my port once they confirmed it was positive. I remember waking up after surgery and feeling for my new port. It was there, so I knew my answer. "Here we go." I fell back into my groggy slumber. What followed were 11 of the hardest mont...

I learned today that a young woman just lost her 29 year old husband to stage 4 lung cancer. Three short months from diagnosis to death, he leaves her with two small children and another on the way. I am speechless. It is a brutal reminder of just how cruel this disease can be. And it reminds me to count my blessings. This round of chemo has been remarkably kind to me. I feel quite well right now. I can breathe so much more easily than I could before starting chemo, and I have virtually no pain from where the bone mets are (were?). Today, I was well enough to take a long walk around the neighborhood with my husband and dream about our future endeavors. It was the sort of day where I could almost forget about cancer.

As I am awaiting the results from my CT scan, I have been trying to think of ways to deal with this fear of the unknown. I have tried to logic my way out of it, by telling myself that nothing is significantly different before they tell me the results versus after, the only difference is my knowing. That kind of helps. I have tried to comfort myself with numbers which, incidentally, is how I had such a wonderful drug-free birth with Zander (keep the mind busy so it cannot address the pain!). Currently, I am trying to quantify my fear of various outcome. If there are between 1 and 2 new mets, then I will feel somewhat fearful. If there are 3 to 5 new mets, then I will feel moderately terrified. If there are greater than 6 new mets, then I will feel very scared. This has been somewhat helpful. I would be nice to use a lovely bottle of wine to address the fear, but I am trying to protect my liver so that option is out. I heard from a fellow lung cancer survivor that she pops a Valium to ge...