13...

Neither lucky nor unlucky. Just done. 13 rounds down and hopefully only 3 to go. That's the great unknown, the one I don't even like to consider. Am I almost done? My focus is on getting to round 16 and getting a break. I know the odds say that this won't be the end of my journey, the end of this dance with cancer. But I just want a clean scan at the end of round 16 to buy me a 3- month chemo holiday. Just a few months to breathe. One clean scan with no surprises. Not too much to ask, I hope.

Oh, and no post is really complete without pictures, is it?

Pigs...

I had a vivid dream 2 weeks ago: I was eating a hot dog loaded with relish and mustard. Why? I've been vegetarian for 17 years and besides, those were never my condiments of choice. Really, if I'm going to go carnivore, a hot dog isn't a brilliant beginning. A few days later, I had a dream where I was scarfing down all the bacon I could get my hands on...and begging the kids not to tell anyone.

Huh? It didn't make any sense to me either, until Hayden developed a fever last Sunday and I took him to the doctor. The obvious diagnosis, pork-product obsessed mom, is the H1N1 Swine flu. Which was just miserable for my never-sick boy. And it was equally disconcerting in my immuno-surpressed state to try to love the sweet boy and dodge his nasty germs at the same time.

I went for chemo #12 on Wednesday and was almost certain we'd delay since I was still in the incubation period for the swine flu. It seemed a little crazy to me to beat down my immune system even further when we had active flu germs in the house. But the second my oncologist relented and said we could postpone a week (I only wanted a 2-day delay), I freaked out. Everything I do is scheduled around good (non-chemo) and bad (chemo) weeks. Delay one chemo cycle by a week and the rest of my year is thrown into a tizzy. I'm sure we could recover, but you know how I like to plan. And so far so good, no swine flu for me.

Now back to those darned pigs...there has to be something good pig-related in my life, right? How about pigtails?

Yes, pigtails are a winner for certain.

Back to the Grind...

Actually, it isn't a grind, it's a slow drip infusion. I've finished my first post-op round of chemo. Hopefully, it's one down and five to go. The scheduled treatments should end just after Thanksgiving and then I'll have a scan. Clear scan = 3 months of freedom! I don't want to get too far ahead of myself, but the plan forward from there would be scans every 3 months for a year unless something new pops up.

My medical oncologist is still a little reserved. She says that given the number of positive lymph nodes I had from my original surgery, we have to assume we're dealing with systemic disease. Which is why we're going for the 6 rounds of chemo post-surgery. Hit it hard, knock it down, try not to knock me down in the process. Then wait and see. It's hard for me, I've always been such a planner, I want to know exactly what I'm going to be doing next January, next March, next June. But cancer just isn't something you can plan around. If nothing else, it teaches you to be thankful for each day because that's all any of us have for certain.

The biggest dilemma for me now is figuring out how to balance the chemo side effects with the positive effects. I've already had 11 rounds of FOLFOX 6. One of the drugs in FOLFOX is called oxaliplatin and it causes nerve damage. It builds gradually over time, but I'm having progressively more numbness in my hands and feet...a few balance issues (high heels are out!), trouble with buttons and pens.

I've already had more of the drug than many people are able to tolerate. With some people, the nerves repair themselves after the chemo is done. But not for everybody, and the nerve regeneration can take a year or more. We know from the pathology after my surgery that this chemo cocktail has been very effective for me, but it's anybody's guess which of the drugs is the winner or if it's the combination. So do you discontinue the potential miracle drug so that you can text better on your Blackberry or do you keep at it because you can't do much text messaging from the grave and maybe the nasty drug is saving your life? It isn't that simple obviously, but I'm going to keep after it a little longer at least. But if anybody wants to volunteer to be my personal valet and button my clothes, I'm accepting applications.

I'm not seeking advice on this whole thing, just pondering aloud. Oh well, you're reading this so you must want to know the details, right?

So happy Fall. How do I know it's Fall? Because I had this conversation with Hayden today:

Hayden: "Mom, what time is it?"
Me: "4:27 PM"
Hayden: "OK, it's Fall. Fall started at 4:18"

Of course I had to look this up on Wikipedia to verify, but Fall did indeed begin at 4:18 PM Central time today.

Here's a little one from Sean last night. He was sitting with Hayden at the table looking at the Astros 2009 schedule and out of nowhere comes:

Hayden: "Hey, remember on June 28th when they were playing the Detroit Tigers? I thought they were gonna win that game. But then Detroit got that 2-run homerun in the 9th. It was off Valverde...or was it LaTroy Hawkins?...No, Valverde, yeah Valverde...and they lost 4 to 3. I thought they were gonna win that game."
Sean: Laughing out loud
Hayden: "Why are you laughing?"
Sean: "No reason"

We're really going to work on how we can harness the power of his brain. Y'know, for something other than hospital phone numbers, solstice times, and stats from 3-month old baseball games.

Random...

The kids are back in school which must mean summer has come to an end. I feel like I missed it, being away so long. But at least we're in Houston and the temperature will stay in the 90s for a few more months. So maybe we still have a few more trips to the pool in our future. Maybe I should get a new bikini to show off my sexy scars? Except every time Trevor catches a glimpse of my belly he screams "Mommy, I don't want to see that!" As in, "Hey freakshow, you're scaring me!"

I always take pictures of the kids on their first day of school. If only I could be as efficient as my friend Mackenzie and find them all so I could show you a "look how we've grown" montage. I can't even seem to put Trevor and Hayden's pictures on the same hard-drive and they were only taken a week apart. But here's my handsome 4-year old on his first day. About 30 frames of goofy faces were sifted through to find one decent shot...
And here he is enjoying himself on the playground at his preschool. I'll miss this place next year.

One week later, here's the little man displaying the BITE mark on his chest. Apparently a little girl had moved from the swingset to another part of the playground, but when she saw Trevor climb onto "her" swing, she decided she wanted it back. Trevor, being the stubborn middle child, held his ground and got a lovely bite to the chest. It left a nice mark, even through his shirt. When we talked about ways to avoid these problems in the future, I was hoping for something like "run and tell a teacher" and he was thinking more along the lines of "kick her down before she can get her teeth on me."

Last, but not least, I can check one item off my 2009 to-do list. Matching Christmas pajamas? Mission accomplished. Every year I get matching Christmas pajamas for the kids, and every year it gets a little harder. Hayden's getting big, the other two are still toddler size, and we need something unisex. If you wait till November to look for something, you'll be sorely disappointed. Last year I spent Christmas and many days thereafter in the ER so we didn't get the traditional Christmas morning picture. Fortunately, Sean left the tree up till I got home in mid-January so we staged a shot. This year we got a practice shot in September just in case.

Hopefully I'll be through with treatments for a while come Christmas this year, so we may take a family vacation. Given Sean's aversion to cold weather, maybe we'll go to the Carribean or somewhere warm. How do you think these fleece pajamas will work out Christmas morning on the beach?

Something...

People keep telling me I need to post something. I was completely offline for two weeks and even now that I'm back on the iPod I don't feel like I have much to say. Most days are the same: wake up, lie in bed, maybe muster the energy for a shower, fall back in bed exhausted, lay in bed for the rest of the day. Sounds exciting, I know.

I've ventured out of the house 4 or 5 times since I've been home. Once to take Malik (one of our dogs) to the veterinary opthamologist, only to learn that he needs surgery to have his eye removed. Sounds awful, but he's been blind in the eye for a few years and his detached lens has shifted, causing pressure buildup and lots of pain so I think he'll be more comfortable with it gone. Still, nothing like an eye removal to snap you out of your own cave of self-pity.

Other outings: doctor's office for stitch removal and prescriptions, GapKids to buy some school shirts for Hayden (disastrous outing: dizzy spells, hot flashes), lunch and pedicures with Shelley (yay!), family breakfast at LePeep (gooey buns, yum). Each and every trip has left me completely exhausted. I just have zero stamina, zero pep.

My pain control has been good since I left the hospital. I've only taken a few Tylenol here and there for headaches. I think after the nightmare of Fentanyl withdrawal in the hospital, I'm afraid to take anything stronger. So I mostly grin and bear it. I still hit the nausea meds pretty hard, but they've kept things manageable. I'm starting to wonder if the fatigue is as much hormonal as surgical. I'm sleeping better than I was initially, but still not great. So tonight I took my first hormone pill and we'll see if there's any improvement. I was hesitant to take something, but I'm almost 5 weeks out from my surgery and don't feel like I'm where I should be.

What's next? I meet with my medical oncologist next week to put together a plan for chemo. Typically, people would do 6 cycles pre-surgery and 6 cycles post-surgery. Due to scheduling issues with the surgery, I did 10 cycles beforehand. So I'll probably do less than 6, but I don't know exactly how many. It's normal to wait 6-8 weeks after surgery to give the body a chance to heal, so I've probably still got a few weeks to go. I'll keep you posted.

We're going home...

Just so you know, Lisa Marie was discharged from the hospital this afternoon. The final Jackson-Pratt drain was removed early this morning meaning she was finally free from all tubing and other attachments that had restricted her these last 3 weeks. We will spend the night in the hotel here in the hospital and then we should be arriving back in Houston at ~6pm tomorrow followed shortly thereafter by hugs and kisses to 3 little ones. It will be good to be HOME.

Post-Op Day 18

There have been some signs of improvement since the last post. She has begun sampling a few of the delicacies of the WHC cafeteria. She has managed to keep down about 4 bites of mashed potatoes and 7 or 8 bites of mac & cheese. She has also had about 1 full serving of yougurt and consumed one bottle of red Gatorade. This may not sound like much to you but for someone whose last encounter with real food was 20 days ago, we think it's a huge step in the right direction.


The energy level continues to be greatly reduced from when I left her last Monday to visit the kids for a few days and she still struggles some with getting longer periods of continuous sleep (meaning > 1.5 to 2 hours at a time). She did get 3 walks in today, to the end of the hall back past the nurses station around the staff elevators before returning to her room. Again, another step in the right direction.


Some pain remains (she says 3 on a scale of 1-10) but she hasn't taken any pain medicine for the last day+ because it seems to add to the nausea. The nausea remains a bit frustrating but there has been only one instance of vomiting in the last 48 hours, and that may have been a blessing in disguise. As I was heading out the door for breakfast this morning, I heard her call my name out with a sense of urgency. It seems out of the blue, her heart decided to have one of its SVT episodes. She's had these off and on in the past but it's always a little scary. Her heart goes from beating normally to beating 190 beats per minute this morning. You can see the veins in her neck pounding so fast. The doctors came in and were going to give it a few minutes to correct itself. If it didn't they said they would cardiovert with adensonine. She's had this done twice in the past. Essentially, they stop your heart for a second to get it back in the right rhythm. It's not too bad except for the eerie feeling that you're dying and the fact they have a crash cart right there in case your heart doesn't decide to start again on its own. Anyway, none of that was necessary since right after the well-timed aforementioned vomiting episode, her heart rate returned to a much more acceptable 95 beats per minute.


All in all a low-key day, but she did begin listening to music on the Ipod and even watched a couple of DVD episodes of the Sopranos on the computer. This was the first time since the surgery I think that any kind of TV show has been watched. The TV hasn't been on because that would mean moving the pictures of her 3 lovely children from their prominent spot in front of the screen.


She of course misses the kids more each day and can't wait for this exile to end. We treasure the few brief minutes we get to hear their voices each night. How lucky I was to be able to hold them in my arms and tuck them into bed a few times this week on my all-too-short visit home. But we know the triumphant return is nearing and that the hugs and smiles and laughter of those most precious to us await. And that, my friends, is sufficient to sustain us through all sorts of trials.