Yesterday I had my sixth and final round of chemotherapy!! I’m so excited and happy and relieved. I still have a couple weeks of side-effects to deal with, but the beauty part is that when I finally start feeling better I will STAY better. I won’t come out of it just to begin again. I am convinced that this knowledge will hasten recovery.
Before I tell you the tale of this momentous day, though, I need to bring you up to speed on surgery. I met with Dr. Superman (Oh! And I’m going back and updating all these cancer blog entries with the new improved nicknames. Simply because the ones I used back in the early days before I got to know this amazing team seem disrespectful now.) Anyway, I’m going to have a lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy on September 15. Here’s how it will go down:
- I will go to the breast imaging office (I hope to see Dr. Moviestar, the radiologist!) and have guide wires inserted in Turdy the breast tumor (or probably just the marker clip since we think Turdy has been demolished by the chemo) and that monster malignant lymphnode in my armpit that was twice Turdy’s size. Remember these fuckers?
Son of Turdy
The wires will run from the clips to the outside of my body and be taped down. This will help Dr. Supe find the lil bastards (he’s amazing, but does not to my knowlege possess x-ray vision).
- Next, I will go to Nuclear Medicine (I’m assuming the same joint I had my MRI, PET scan, and MRI-guided biopsy on Left Boob, They will inject a radioactive tracer into my areola. Yeah, you read that right. I will NOT be asleep for this monstrous act. I’m trying not to think about it.
- I’ll go into surgery and hopefully be knocked the F out by the anesthesiologist. Then, Supe will run a Geiger counter wand over my armpit area and mark with a pen the places that react to the tracer. Those will be the lympnodes most likely to be cancery. He predicts 3 at most.
- Supe will make ONE incision, and take out the Turdy-clip in my right breast along with a small chunk of surrounding tissue. He’ll remove Turdy Jr. the lymphnode and any of his Geiger-clicky neighbors. He’ll sew me back up!
- All the tissue junk will be sent to Pathology for testing. To see if there is any trace of cancer that the chemo didn’t get. This may take a couple days. If there are any lingering microscopic cancer cells then Dr. Supe will need to do more surgery. I guess that’s when we’d talk mastectomy.
About three weeks after surgery I will start Radiation. I’m actually going to take part in a research study if I qualify (and to qualify I need to be cancer-free ie no lingering cancery shit). I’ll be randomly placed in one of two groups: I will either get radiation just on Right Breast, OR on Right Breast AND Armpit. I’m hoping this will assuage my guilt for opting out of the first research study I was offered (which would have me recieving hormone therapy at the same time as chemo. Ixnay on the extra side effects.) A couple things I found interesting about the details of the study was that regarding privacy, the authors of the study warn that in the future, researchers may develop some way to find out my identity just through my DNA and in that case they can’t protect my anonymity just by withholding my name. It was a little Minority Report. This was the other part that was weird but cool. They basically make it plain that this will benefit people who haven’t even been diagnosed yet.
Anyway, the side-effects of Round 5 were dreadful. I got so tired at one point in the middle of grocery shopping that I actually used the scooter. I took my hat off so that my fellow shoppers wouldn’t think I was a faker and that I really did deserve to ride instead of walk. Yes, I know I’m ridiculous. And I think I’m a shoe-in for the Turtle Club. I am most def turtley enough.
When I could finally eat again I only wanted sushi. My husband completely indulged me. My daughter Callahan even took me for a late night run for grocery store sushi. Remember, I’m not driving, so my sushiquest requires an accomplice.
At one point I felt like this day would never arrive. But on the other hand I’ve been planning for it like it’s the freakin’ senior prom. First, the outfit had to be significant. It had to be Wonder Woman. I have received a lot of WW gifts both before I was ever diagnosed but mostly afterwards. My friend Megan gave me a whole fab WW care package on the last day of Kindergarten that contained a book, sunglasses, a shitload of cute socks, and this fantabulous Wonder Woman snuggie. Don’t be too jealous.
Let me break down the provenance of my Final Chemo Ensemble for you:
- The wig courtesy of Lisa Barbato.
- The tiara is from Gunny.
- The t-shirt I bought myself for the gym that I haven’t set foot in since before Christmas
- The cuffs from my book editor Marti McKenna
- The socks (with capes!) from my former mother-in-law Kathleen
I also put a lot of thought into gifts for the team. I got Captain America my oncologist a bottle of Irish Whiskey and a copy of my Lexy Cooper: Triple Threat collection. This is what I wrote inside:
For Harley, my favorite front-desker I got a fancy chocolate bar, and a Starbucks card. For three of my chemo nurses and for Cap’s PA Salena I got an orchid, fancy chocolate truffles and a Toberlone bar. I was up late the night before writing thank you notes which I wept as I wrote. I won’t replicate them here but the gist was to point out how each of them specifically helped me get through chemo. I thanked Cap for always listening and never rushing me. I summed up by thanking him for more years with my family. Then I brought in two bottles of champagne for the rest of the staff. Can I just say the gifts were a big hit? Wonder Woman or turtle, they kinda love me at Overlake Medical Oncology.
Me and Amy. Best friends since 1973!
My best friend Amy came to sit with me and my baby brother Dan stopped in for an hour or so. Gunny stayed most of the time except for when he left for a bit to buy me a present. 🙂 There were lots of hugs from the staff and when I was finished with my last bag of medicine the nurses presented me with a “graduation gift” which is a bunch of magnets with encouraging words. Then I got to ring the bell and Michelle said “Congratulations on your last chemo!!!” and everyone applauded. I didn’t cry at the time, but I’m a little weepy writing this now. It was fucking GREAT.
From Left to Right: Sherry, Wonder Woman, Judy, and Michelle
This isn’t the last I’ll see of this team. I’ll be in today for my Neulasta shot, and in ten days for a blood count (gotta make sure I’m okay for surgery) and then I’ll be getting maintenance infusions of Herceptin (the wonderdrug that keeps HER2+ cancers at bay) every three weeks. Don’t panic, though. The treatment only lasts 30 minutes and the only side effect is a drippy nose. GOODBYE NAUSEA!
One small wrinkle: I told Dr Cap about my elevated heart rate and that it got up to 180 one day when I was cleaning and I felt lightheaded and short of breath. (I also fudged a little because it was actually 187 according to my Apple Watch). He put in a referral for a cardiologist because we don’t want my heart throwing any kind of hissy fit during surgery. He thinks they’ll have me wear some sort of monitor for 24 hours just to track any arrhythmia. If my heart’s misbehaving then they may have me take beta blockers. But THEN, last night I got a note from Cap saying my magnesium is “even lower than your potassium” and he called in a prescription for magnesium supplements that I am to take daily ASAP. Apparently lack of magnesium can cause irregular heart beat plus a bunch of other shit (shortness of breath, high blood pressure, and nausea unrelieved by medication!) that I’ve been blaming on the chemo. SO, I’m going to be a good patient and take that shit like I’m supposed to.
Tomorrow we leave for a week at the beach house in California and I am full of happiness. Yes, I will most likely have some bad days while there, but I’ll be in the beach house bed instead of my boring old bed at home!