Radiation Therapy 3 of 30

I really believed that today I would be able to talk food. I was even trying out titles in my head earlier this afternoon. As it turns out, I do have something to report on radiation, so the other stuff will wait another day.

Today began as normal as any other. I have to admit though, that I did think of the Tough Bald Chicks a lot; some were having chemo for the last time, yesterday. I was reminded of the pain in my arm on the trip home, I remembered the lovely staff in daycare and I also remembered the anguish of the husband as he braced for absent-me. So, while I was happy to be past that, I knew that there were others in that position. I wish them a speedy recovery and am very excited for them to have beaten chemo.

I felt pretty lazy today. I'd like to blame that on the weather; cold and windy.

Anyway, I had a late afternoon physio appointment prior to my rads. As I have come to expect of all the staff now, the physio was so kind. I discussed, with her, the concerns I had regarding my swollen arm. She measured strategic points of both of my arms and saw a significant difference. This difference warranted weekly appointments and a sleeve and a glove. It's "prophylactic" she told me. Even though I only had four lymph nodes removed, even though I had exercised and even though I had incurred no injury (even that as small as an insect bite) to my arm, the physio was concerned that my arm was moving towards symptoms of lymphedema. And, it is likely to get worse during radiation. I will certainly look the patient with this grande bandage-type accessory. Fortunately, perhaps, for me, there was a mix up and I will not receive my cool fashion item until Monday. So, I have a weekend of freedom before I don the all-day wear. Yes, it wasn't news that I wanted to hear. But, it's no big deal really.

After the physio, I went straight through to my rads. I didn't have to wait today. I was seen to straight away. I only got one stitch in. I was looking forward to doing a little knitting. Oh well, I have 27 more chances at that... When I get into the teens I think I'll be pretty excited. Come on thirty treatments, I want to celebrate the end of this chapter.

It's the third day of my Whole30. I was really hungry this afternoon; before my physio/rads appointment. So, I made an extra meal. But, I really haven't had any cravings yet for the off-limits foods. That's real good. Having meals that fill me up are the key, I reckon, to keeping to the regime. Anyway, this was my food journey (yum!):

Breakfast: Peach and Pecan Scramble

Lunch: Leftover rissoles, salad, eggs and mayo

Extra meal: Fried chicken and tomatoes

Snack: A few almonds

Dinner: Meatballs in bolognaise with broc

Snack: Coconut bark

I learnt two things today, at the hospital. A study is currently being conducted on the benefits of doing weighted exercise while undergoing treatment for breast cancer. The study is leaning towards the result that doing weighted exercise is not a bad thing. The second new piece of information, I gained today, was that patients who experience fatigue are actually encouraged to walk. These two things are now a justification for me to keep exercising. Yeah, yeah, I won't push it but...I will exercise (even if it's light) in order to fight off the fatigue (and because I want to *folds arms and stomps feet*).

P.S.

I forgot to mention, in Monday's post, a little moment in child one's Spanish class. At the beginning of the lesson, the teacher asked the children what they were doing after class. It was soon my child's turn to answer. Here is how it went:

Teacher: And what are you doing after class?

Child #1: Going to the hospital.

Teacher: Do you know someone who is sick?

Child #1: Yes. Mum. She is having radiation. She has had chemo.

I felt really sad at that. I don't know why though. I questioned the husband, perhaps he could explain why I just had such a pain in my heart. There is understanding there, we had wanted that. But, why did I feel upset about it? I don't know. Anyway, the hope is that in a year or two, child number one will simply remember spending lots of time with friends and family. And not, the occasional visit to the hospital and certainly not the week we got the diagnosis.

A Thought

In some ways, I think we have asked too much of child one and two. On occasion, I have turned to the husband to say that I just feel so sorry for them. They haven't rejected their funny looking bald mother. They haven't resisted helping their dad who has been doing his best to run the house. And, they haven't, not once, said that they want to get off the cancer train. They have just kept going along in their little routine (which hasn't changed too much) day after day.

But, what is it that we ask of children during times like this? We ask them to develop and practice patience, kindness, forgiveness, selflessness, compassion, discipline and obedience (can't think of any more). Is that too much to ask of anyone? Even a child? No way.

I'm not going to feel sorry for my children anymore. This is good. What wonderful life lessons they have been learning.

Just a thought.

Goodbye and Hello

Goodbye tastebuds and appetite. Hello fatigue.

When I sat at the table to have my breakfast, this morning, I was shocked that I was experiencing side effects so soon. I guess the upside is that I can get them over and done with. I could have been eating anything. The pumpkin soup had no flavour that's for sure. I forced it down. Then I had a cup of rooibos tea with five prunes (you know what that's for). It too did nothing for me. I have a strong feeling that my love for prunes will never return. Prior to cancer I loved prunes. Now, it will probably always bring back the memories of breast cancer. Who would want that? Prunes are a small price to pay to forget.

Last night, I came home to a beautiful, cooked meal with a treat too. While I was so excited about chemo being over I just couldn't show it physically. I felt absolutely exhausted! Was it the long day, with little sleep the night before? The stress of the cannula not going in until the sixth go? Or was it simply the finality of chemo; like the end of a marathon where athletes just drop to the ground? I got through the nine weeks, just. I wish I could have been more exuberant. I reckon the husband expected me to be a lot happier. But I was happy. It was just not bubbling to the surface.

Anyway, back to Day 1. It's was frustrating to think that yesterday I felt so good and then today I wake up unwell. Last time though. I was on my own with the children today. I managed the breakfast and clean up well. Then, when lunch came I got through that (I only managed to eat sliced apple with salt), hung washing, brought in washing, walked to the letterbox in a most embarrassing get-up, helped the children water all the plants with a tiny watering can (many trips to the tap of course) and watched them play for a bit. A huge day.

This afternoon I received a wonderful package from "The Pink Pamper Packs". The generosity that our family has experienced through this time has been so overwhelming! There may be more tears over that than the actual cancer. Good tears though. Thanks to so many people who have helped in different ways!

I have taken my anti-nausea and vomiting meds as prescribed. I have had two naps today. A dear friend gave me my neulasta needle, at 6.45pm. Yes, I cringed like the big baby that I am. Child number one held my hand and watched the needle go in. How did someone so brave come from me? I am very keen for a sound sleep tonight. But, as much as I want to hop into bed right now, I don't want to be up when the rest of the house is sleeping. So, I will busy myself, gently, with a few things before I hit the sack for the third time today.

I waited all day for this day to be over. I know that sounds negative, but it's how I felt. I just want to get through all of this stuff as quickly as possible. Last round I was "better" by Monday morning (Day 6). I don't mind being better before then!

Look at that chair. Never again will I have to sit there. If I wasn't feeling too fatigued I would love to do a happy dance. That will have to wait. It is coming. It's on the inside for now.

Patch Face

I have felt tired today. I have also been irritable again. I am trying very hard to stay calm and in control but with the chemo encouraging my hormones to bounce all over the place, I'm fighting a losing battle sometimes. I am conscious of the affect that this is having on those around me so, I do try to say those words that cling so tightly to my lips and don't want to get out, "I'm sorry".

If I could just exercise. I really think that getting some exercise would help with the fatigue. The thing is though that by the time the children are asleep (their afternoon nap) I'm unable to pull together the motivation to do it. I could push myself, but it's likely to be my body saying that it needs a little more time. Tomorrow, day 10, is the end of my low immune period. So, I will aim to do exercise then. But, if I can't that's ok. On Saturday, I will (mind over body for this one) do a group crossfit session. I have to. It'll get the blood moving. I need that.

I cut my fingernails (how did something so mundane become worthy of a its own paragraph?). And, I was tricked into cutting them too short. My nails have obviously come away from the nail bed because even though I left a little white on my nails, they feel as though I have cut them way too short. Still, it's a minor issue.

Aside from the fatigue, the scar on my face is the most confronting side effect. I purchased ointment. I hope it makes the marks disappear. And, while I was there I also got the antibiotic lotion to put on the two places where the chemo has caused tissue damage close to my wrist.

The scar (in my armpit), as it has for each low immune week, is a little sore. It feels like there is a small lump at the one end. And, the scar has opened again. I'm so glad I never pretended to be brave and put deodorant on. Yes, my self-imposed ban on any products in my right armpit continues.

Today, I had the cancer chat with child number one. I tried to be as casual as I could in bringing up the topic. I explained that I had one more chemo treatment and the reason for having it. I should have followed my gut instinct. When child number one asked that question alarm bells didn't ring. So now, when I was talking cancer, child number one really wasn't interested. Fine. Conversation over.

I think I'm starting to get excited about the next chemo being my last one. I really haven't been excited. I haven't allowed myself to. Why? Well, I wanted the cannular in and the drugs flowing before the no-more-chemo smile came out. But yesterday, I dug out my radiation paperwork and discovered that my planning appointment with the radiation doctors is Wednesday! Woohoo! I get the goosebumps (good ones) thinking of the next step in my journey (haven't used that word for a while).

Goodbye Follicles

I thought I had dandruff. As it turned out, it was just the next lot of hair unloosening itself from the follicles. This is that story...(and some others)

While watching our favourite (at the moment) mocumentary, I scratched my head. I couldn't believe it. There was a moment there where I thought I had discovered that I had dandruff. If I hadn't been receiving chemo that would have been the obvious response. Under the spell of chemo though means that I am more likely be be scratching at a side effect. It was simply dry skin. My scalp was crying out for its daily fix of aqueous cream.

Before stepping into the shower, I admired my shiny head (which isn't so fair anymore) and inspected the disappearing scar (thanks Mr High Intensity Vitamin E cream) from the lumpectomy. I gave my head a good scrub with the cream. I brought my hands around to rinse off the excess cream. It was Tuesday. I forgot! Only then, as I stared at my hands, did the puzzle pieces fall into place (how cliche? who hasn't used that phrase?). Well, they did ok? Tuesday, one week after chemo, has been when hair things happen. There was hair all over my hand. I reached around and pinched at bits of hair. I could actually pull them out. It didn't hurt, at all. I could feel nothing. The last ones.

Although only minor, I have experienced pain in my fingernails. I've been knocking my fingers into everything. And, they are actually sensitive. I must have always given my fingernails a good bashing in my day to day movement, but now I am feeling it. That coupled with the discolouration of my nail, closest to my cuticle, in some fingers, is my most discomforting side effect today. I can't complain.

Another good point? The fatigue is still there but certainly not as intense as that which I experienced after my last round of chemo. I'm feeling pretty good!

The red splotch is back though, sort of. After it changed to a dark patch on my cheek bone it never completely disappeared. Now, with the poisons of the latest chemo swimming around my system, there is redness again. It is still limited to one side of my face. But, it is growing. I do have a prescription for it, but that was only if it became pimply. And, that hasn't happened yet. So, I'll be like Mariah Carey and only have photos taken of my good side.

I keep forgetting to include an interesting quote from child number one. The other day, I was asked, "Mum, will you die after your last chemo?" The question was posed without emotion, matter-of-factly. I wasn't even upset that it was posed. But, it did present to me that I needed to have another chat about the whole breast cancer process. Because, quite clearly, what I had said, and what child number one could see was a little confusing. I will look for a casual, no-big-deal opportunity to discuss cancer with the four year old again.

Who Sank The Boat?

In the warmth of my bathroom, I take off my beanie. It's a sorry sight, I'm afraid. For the first time I look bald. There are a few patches around the back. But if I look straight into the mirror, I am bald. My theory is that I will be hairless, apart from the fine hair that insists on hanging about, by the next treatment. The hair loss has really been a slow process. Not as dramatic as I had imagined. My eyebrows and eyelashes are still there. I can be thankful for that.

Day One in the cycle has been ok. I was so excited to have bowel movement today (remember I said that I would include it all). I resist the notion of breast cancer taking over my life but it's so hard not to get caught up in it all. I recall having two newborns and my monitoring of their wet and soiled nappies. Someone's got to do it, right? Well, the aforementioned occurrence meant that I wouldn't need any assistance. Good news.

I had two naps today; one in the morning and another in the afternoon. Again, I wasn't falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. It's just that I get the need for my body to rest. Despite my rest, by the end of the day I was so on edge. Nothing anyone did was good enough, quiet enough or quick enough. This is not me. I'm usually more patient. I will blame the chemo or the hormones. It's just not me. So, I hear this is pretty normal. While it's great to hear I'm not alone, when I'm in the moment of being totally annoyed beyond belief it's hard. It will pass though. A couple of days of that perhaps? Sorry mi familia.

My elbows have been sore. I am not sure whether it's the aches and pains that come with chemo or if it's more to do with the workouts I had been doing in the week before chemo. Either way, it will be something that I will keep an eye on.

In my crazy obsession to stay away from germy humans I have had to knock back a few outings this round. That's a downer. On the upside, a few months ago my surgeon had commented that in the scheme of things this short amount of time given to the treatment of breast cancer is such a small percentage of my life. So, I often quote that. It's true. I suppose it can be said of most of the things that we experience in life. Things are all consuming when we walk through them but once we get to the other side it never seems as bad. Or at least, we are able to see the good that can actually come out of terrible situations. I've been fortunate enough to hear a number of speakers share some tragedies in their life and they have become stronger. When I think of them, my challenge is small. And, even now, I think I am able to say that this cancer has brought more good than bad. I have learnt much, grown a lot and had a few of my own little ideas turned on their head. How else would I have got all that in a few months? No regrets here.

Having said that, I wouldn't mind a remote control to fast-forward through the next week. Tomorrow marks the day in the last cycle when I began my three day stint in bed. If I wake up feeling ok, that would be amazing. It would mean that I may skip that. Oh please let it be! We'll see.

What I have been seeing in myself though are definitely signs of menopause. What? I'm thirty and I am going through menopause? Weird. During the night I have been waking feeling all sweaty. Yes, on these cold winter nights. I just found out that they are called, night sweats. I have to admit I don't get the whole menopause thing. Will I be experiencing this for ages? Do I get these side effects for a bit and then do they pass? Am I now officially infertile? So many questions? Why don't women talk about these things? Have they been talking and was I just not listening? That, my friends, is more than likely.

And, as for the question, "Who sank the boat?" The needle nearly had me tonight. Neulasta is it's name. It reduces the risk of infection caused by the rapid decline of white blood cells. It enabled my oncologist to site my blood results as being "perfect" when I went in for my chemo yesterday. Before my personal nurse arrived (mother-in-love), I held the husband and confessed that I was upset about the needle. He matter-of-factly- reminded me that I had been through far worse. I didn't cry (although I really wanted to). It was enough. I (start playing the violins) have always been so fearful of doctors, nurses, hospitals and here I was appendix-less, I'd had two emergency caesarean sections, a lumpectomy, an auxiliary clearance and chemo and still so pathetically weak. One would really think that you would get used to all this medical attention. Well, I haven't. And, as things roll on it's clear that I never will. I allowed the needle to be given. It was sore. I whinged. I cringed. It was over. Thank you (not really).

No plans for tomorrow. Will see what it brings.

The First 48 Hours

I was told that I when I wake up, the day after chemo, I would feel like I was hit by a bus. Let me tell you that when my eyes hesitantly opened at five in the morning I was absolutely shocked that I felt...good. Better than good. The husband had set his alarm for 5.30am knowing that it would take him that long to get breakfast going and the children ready before he left for work. In the husband's defence let me just add here that, our change to Paleo eating means that every morning we have a cooked breakfast. This always includes fry pans, eggs and lots of mess in the kitchen. I rolled over and told him that I would be doing breakfast.

While I definitely cannot complain about my lot, I was feeling a lot more tired than usual. Organising breakfast got me pretty tired. Getting enough energy to do lunch was tough. The reality though was that at no point on Day 1 was I bedridden! That was the biggest bonus ever! Of course, I didn't do it on my own. And, just in case you're wondering, the husband didn't ditch me that day. I was left in the care of my two mums who helped out a great deal with the children. To top, a mostly good day off, a delicious meal was delivered to our door by a dear friend, it was the second meal in a row that she had brought us!

I guess, as a mum, the greatest concern for me, at this time, was that my two children didn't just become unstimulated zombies. Keeping them occupied, learning and having fun has always been a priority for each day. Now it seemed as though I wasn't going to be able to maintain such a high level of activity with them. This had really bugged me while I was recovering from the lumpectomy. Only a few weeks on however, I had made some progress in that area. And, if you don't mind, I'd like to share what I think I am beginning to understand.

Being a mum is a great occupation. Being an actively involved mum is very rewarding. But I really had begun to place far too much emphasis on my need to DO things. I think I am starting to grasp that I can be a super, terrific mum even in those moments when I am too tired to do anything but watch the children play. In those moments when I can barely call out an encouragement I can still be a good mum. In fact, all that is needed to be a good mum, is love. Believe me, when the time comes for me to be able to play all the pretend games, to run to the shops and dance around to the latest hit I will be doing it. But, I reckon I needed to come to a place where I saw that when all that is stripped away, being a mum is all about demonstrating love.

So, I made it through Day 1 unscathed. Day 2 was much the same. I took my drugs as prescribed. These were to ward off the nausea and vomiting so commonly associated with chemo. I ate my prunes (you know the reason why) and enjoyed another relatively good day.

Of course, having two mums (my mum and the husband's mum just in case you were wondering...) is a great advantage. They played tag team and were an ever present help. Certainly the stars of the show. Thank you so much for all your help. And, of course, as I mentioned earlier we really did just have so much support around us. Thanks. And to quote child number one's favourite show, "Grandpa in my pocket", and let's face it I love it too, high fives all around, "Team work!"