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Seriously, though!
I have left y'all hanging since end of May - sorry. Life was hectic and ridiculous for all of 2019.
I left off at "just started radiation, three down, 25 to go" and "holy shit, Compazine isn't working, I sure hope Zofran does." Zofran worked - barely. I had to take it on the dot, one every eight hours, over the entire course of radiation. When I missed it, I was puking.
I was out of work all of May and June, and halfway through July per the infectious disease doc's orders. I had the antibiotic via PICC line through June 14th, and the PICC line removed June 15th. I had another TEE before July for the cardiologist, and was cleared by her July 1st to restart chemo in August. The infectious disease doc cleared me to restart work on July 16th.
Then near the end of July, I got shingles. It surprised exactly ZERO doctors, because shingles is an opportunistic bitch who saw my lack of immune system and said "PARTY IN THIS ONE!!" Luckily, it was just a small patch on my lower left back, right at the waistline, and caught early enough to take the med course.
In August, I was able to take a weekend away before restarting the treatment. It did not last nearly long enough, obviously. I got a new PICC line August 6th, plus a CT scan which came back all clear. August 8th was chemo #3, and August 28th was chemo #4.
Chemo #5 was set for September 16th, but my platelets were too low (they need to be 100 to get chemo, and mine were at 85). My hemoglobin also was at 7.9, so instead of chemo, I got one unit of blood transfused. The following week, everything was high enough (barely) to have chemo #5. The doctor the week before reassured us that having to push them out was something that happens to a LOT of people, so I was not at all an aberration. It basically just meant my body was saying "No, dude, I need more time."
Chemo #6 was set for October 15th, but that one had to be pushed back a week, too; my platelets were only at 80. And, since my hemoglobin was down to 7.3, I got 2 units of blood transfused. Chemo # 6 was on October 22nd, and that completed the cycles.
I kept the PICC line for another month in case the oncologist wanted more scans or blood draws. I made use of that thing - contacted my primary, who I hadn't seen since January, and asked what she wanted besides a new A1C. She ordered the A1C and a complete cholesterol panel, since I'd never had one, and we got that drawn. Excellent news - cholesterol came back completely normal. And my A1C? In January, it was 10. In November, it was down to 6.1. That's HUGE. I contribute it entirely to lack of eating and a bunch of weight loss.
I saw the oncologist November 22nd, and got the all-clear. I am NED (no evidence of disease). And now, follow-up will include exams every three months for the next two years, then every six months for three years after that, then yearly following that if everything comes back clear every time. She also said, "And since you're over 40, you should have a mammogram." I said, "What did you call me?" She laughed and said, "You need a mammogram." Then she went to take out the PICC line, and it GOT STUCK. They ended up sending me to the hospital for imaging, because if it broke off, they'd have to put me in surgery to remove it. The hospital got it out though.
December, I saw the eye doctor because I'd been having vision issues - steroids can fuck up your eyes big time, and I was referred to a retinal specialist and also given a prescription for bifocals. I also saw my primary doctor that day, who was so pleased with the weight loss and the lower A1C that she gave me permission to only test my blood sugar twice a week instead of every day.
And now we're in 2020. Last week on the 23rd, I had three appointments. I saw the retinal specialist first. I have diabetic retinopathy and diabetic macular edema exacerbated by anemia and thrombocytopenia caused by chemo. However, I have 20/20 vision with my glasses and my blood sugars are under control, so he's just going to watch it. I need to see him every 3-4 months to monitor. I do not want needles in my fucking eye, so I guess I watch my diet some more. Sigh.
Then I saw the genetic counselor. I was referred there because while no one in either side of the family has had endometrial or ovarian cancer, there is lots of pancreatic, bladder, colon, and prostate cancer, and all of them are related. I took my dad and my aunt with me to give both sides of the family history, and now am having something like 34 genes tested for anomolies. It's a valid precaution given the family history, and is literally to help map me out and determine if I'm more at risk for other cancers, and if so, to recommend appropriate screenings early. So I spent 25 minutes working up enough spit to fill the tube (no pokes! woohoo!), and it's off to a lab for testing now.
And finally, I had that mammogram. Called the insurance several weeks ago to make sure 3D was covered and if I needed anything, and they said just ask for it, you're good. Asked for it, got it. And y'all, big boobs win the day - nothing about the mammogram hurt AT. ALL. Four images, one each for the front, one each for the side. And the results came back next day as normal, so my boobs are fine.
I am so doctored out, but this is my life now. And while I'm glad I don't currently have cancer, I'm still so irritated any of it happened at all. I've got people godding at me left and right - give it all to "god," "god" will get you through this, blah, blah, blah. My faith is tenuous - AT BEST - and I am not looking for saving, though I don't get mad or upset when people say they pray for me. I don't believe it does one jack of good, but if it helps them feel better, who am I to keep them from following their own beliefs? I just want them to lay off trying to shove me into following them, too.
Lingering side effects include neuropathy in my hands and feet. They are both always cold. Always. They hurt unless they're wrapped in a heated blanket. I work with numb fingers every day because nothing helps. We're not allowed to have space heaters at our desks - but I found a foot rest that has radiant heating in it, so they have no idea I can at least keep my feet warm.
I lost so much weight last year. So much. I'm down ten pants sizes and two shirt sizes. I'm hovering now because I've finally started to get an appetite back, but am watching it more closely because frigging diabetes.
Once surgery was done, I entered surgical menopause. I have very little issue with it, mostly just a hot flash here and there, and super minor from the sounds of it. Maybe one every other day or so, and just a few minutes of needing to fan myself, and then I'm fine. Small favors, right? ;)
My fatigue has tapered off quite a bit. I still need a nap here and there, but nothing like it used to be. And I can finally start helping carry stuff up the stairs - I just need one hand free for the railing, as I still need the support. Mornings and stairs are hard sometimes too, but only because I'm still adjusting to moving after being in bed all night. I only stumble while walking if it's been a very long day and I'm tired, and my balance is almost all back.
My hair is finally starting to grow back, I have lashes and brows again. And nose hair! You never think about it until you don't have it. And thank every deity you want, my hair is coming in stick-straight again. I didn't care what color it came back, as long as it wasn't curly. And it's not at all curly at this point. Huge win. Still have not used shampoo or anything on it, I kind of want to see how it goes. My baby sister, the hair guru, said for dry scalp to use baking soda, then rinse with one part apple cider vinegar, three parts water. Tried that last night, we'll see how it works.
Tentatively, I'll say that things are definitely looking up. *thumbs up*
Separately, life has been wild. My sister who had the baby last year attempted to kill herself in August. She was put in inpatient rehab, which she just graduated from on Saturday, and is now in an independent living place for a while because she's not allowed back home yet. The kids were taken into protective care for a month until their dad managed to get them back, so all of their lives are upside down, but at least they're back together except for Val. And she's at least putting in effort this time. It scares her that she knew what she was doing, but not what triggered it. I'm hoping that's enough to keep her working at it.
Parents turn 65 this year. Mom is on Saturday, and her Medicare kicked in January 1st, so she's been pleased that she can go to the doctor now without worrying about insurance. Dad only has to worry about his until July, when he will turn 65. He's been in the ER a couple times the last three months for chest pain, but thankfully no further heart attacks - both were muscle-strain related.
Got a new-to-us car in early July, as the Geezermobile finally straight-up died. We got a 2016 Ford Fusion Energi, a plug-in hybrid. We love it so far, especially the gas savings.
And Honorary Baby Sister had her baby end of July. He's healthy and beautiful and has a normal name, thank all the stars - Peter Andrew.
This got long, I'm so sorry. I hope you are all doing well!!
I have left y'all hanging since end of May - sorry. Life was hectic and ridiculous for all of 2019.
I left off at "just started radiation, three down, 25 to go" and "holy shit, Compazine isn't working, I sure hope Zofran does." Zofran worked - barely. I had to take it on the dot, one every eight hours, over the entire course of radiation. When I missed it, I was puking.
I was out of work all of May and June, and halfway through July per the infectious disease doc's orders. I had the antibiotic via PICC line through June 14th, and the PICC line removed June 15th. I had another TEE before July for the cardiologist, and was cleared by her July 1st to restart chemo in August. The infectious disease doc cleared me to restart work on July 16th.
Then near the end of July, I got shingles. It surprised exactly ZERO doctors, because shingles is an opportunistic bitch who saw my lack of immune system and said "PARTY IN THIS ONE!!" Luckily, it was just a small patch on my lower left back, right at the waistline, and caught early enough to take the med course.
In August, I was able to take a weekend away before restarting the treatment. It did not last nearly long enough, obviously. I got a new PICC line August 6th, plus a CT scan which came back all clear. August 8th was chemo #3, and August 28th was chemo #4.
Chemo #5 was set for September 16th, but my platelets were too low (they need to be 100 to get chemo, and mine were at 85). My hemoglobin also was at 7.9, so instead of chemo, I got one unit of blood transfused. The following week, everything was high enough (barely) to have chemo #5. The doctor the week before reassured us that having to push them out was something that happens to a LOT of people, so I was not at all an aberration. It basically just meant my body was saying "No, dude, I need more time."
Chemo #6 was set for October 15th, but that one had to be pushed back a week, too; my platelets were only at 80. And, since my hemoglobin was down to 7.3, I got 2 units of blood transfused. Chemo # 6 was on October 22nd, and that completed the cycles.
I kept the PICC line for another month in case the oncologist wanted more scans or blood draws. I made use of that thing - contacted my primary, who I hadn't seen since January, and asked what she wanted besides a new A1C. She ordered the A1C and a complete cholesterol panel, since I'd never had one, and we got that drawn. Excellent news - cholesterol came back completely normal. And my A1C? In January, it was 10. In November, it was down to 6.1. That's HUGE. I contribute it entirely to lack of eating and a bunch of weight loss.
I saw the oncologist November 22nd, and got the all-clear. I am NED (no evidence of disease). And now, follow-up will include exams every three months for the next two years, then every six months for three years after that, then yearly following that if everything comes back clear every time. She also said, "And since you're over 40, you should have a mammogram." I said, "What did you call me?" She laughed and said, "You need a mammogram." Then she went to take out the PICC line, and it GOT STUCK. They ended up sending me to the hospital for imaging, because if it broke off, they'd have to put me in surgery to remove it. The hospital got it out though.
December, I saw the eye doctor because I'd been having vision issues - steroids can fuck up your eyes big time, and I was referred to a retinal specialist and also given a prescription for bifocals. I also saw my primary doctor that day, who was so pleased with the weight loss and the lower A1C that she gave me permission to only test my blood sugar twice a week instead of every day.
And now we're in 2020. Last week on the 23rd, I had three appointments. I saw the retinal specialist first. I have diabetic retinopathy and diabetic macular edema exacerbated by anemia and thrombocytopenia caused by chemo. However, I have 20/20 vision with my glasses and my blood sugars are under control, so he's just going to watch it. I need to see him every 3-4 months to monitor. I do not want needles in my fucking eye, so I guess I watch my diet some more. Sigh.
Then I saw the genetic counselor. I was referred there because while no one in either side of the family has had endometrial or ovarian cancer, there is lots of pancreatic, bladder, colon, and prostate cancer, and all of them are related. I took my dad and my aunt with me to give both sides of the family history, and now am having something like 34 genes tested for anomolies. It's a valid precaution given the family history, and is literally to help map me out and determine if I'm more at risk for other cancers, and if so, to recommend appropriate screenings early. So I spent 25 minutes working up enough spit to fill the tube (no pokes! woohoo!), and it's off to a lab for testing now.
And finally, I had that mammogram. Called the insurance several weeks ago to make sure 3D was covered and if I needed anything, and they said just ask for it, you're good. Asked for it, got it. And y'all, big boobs win the day - nothing about the mammogram hurt AT. ALL. Four images, one each for the front, one each for the side. And the results came back next day as normal, so my boobs are fine.
I am so doctored out, but this is my life now. And while I'm glad I don't currently have cancer, I'm still so irritated any of it happened at all. I've got people godding at me left and right - give it all to "god," "god" will get you through this, blah, blah, blah. My faith is tenuous - AT BEST - and I am not looking for saving, though I don't get mad or upset when people say they pray for me. I don't believe it does one jack of good, but if it helps them feel better, who am I to keep them from following their own beliefs? I just want them to lay off trying to shove me into following them, too.
Lingering side effects include neuropathy in my hands and feet. They are both always cold. Always. They hurt unless they're wrapped in a heated blanket. I work with numb fingers every day because nothing helps. We're not allowed to have space heaters at our desks - but I found a foot rest that has radiant heating in it, so they have no idea I can at least keep my feet warm.
I lost so much weight last year. So much. I'm down ten pants sizes and two shirt sizes. I'm hovering now because I've finally started to get an appetite back, but am watching it more closely because frigging diabetes.
Once surgery was done, I entered surgical menopause. I have very little issue with it, mostly just a hot flash here and there, and super minor from the sounds of it. Maybe one every other day or so, and just a few minutes of needing to fan myself, and then I'm fine. Small favors, right? ;)
My fatigue has tapered off quite a bit. I still need a nap here and there, but nothing like it used to be. And I can finally start helping carry stuff up the stairs - I just need one hand free for the railing, as I still need the support. Mornings and stairs are hard sometimes too, but only because I'm still adjusting to moving after being in bed all night. I only stumble while walking if it's been a very long day and I'm tired, and my balance is almost all back.
My hair is finally starting to grow back, I have lashes and brows again. And nose hair! You never think about it until you don't have it. And thank every deity you want, my hair is coming in stick-straight again. I didn't care what color it came back, as long as it wasn't curly. And it's not at all curly at this point. Huge win. Still have not used shampoo or anything on it, I kind of want to see how it goes. My baby sister, the hair guru, said for dry scalp to use baking soda, then rinse with one part apple cider vinegar, three parts water. Tried that last night, we'll see how it works.
Tentatively, I'll say that things are definitely looking up. *thumbs up*
Separately, life has been wild. My sister who had the baby last year attempted to kill herself in August. She was put in inpatient rehab, which she just graduated from on Saturday, and is now in an independent living place for a while because she's not allowed back home yet. The kids were taken into protective care for a month until their dad managed to get them back, so all of their lives are upside down, but at least they're back together except for Val. And she's at least putting in effort this time. It scares her that she knew what she was doing, but not what triggered it. I'm hoping that's enough to keep her working at it.
Parents turn 65 this year. Mom is on Saturday, and her Medicare kicked in January 1st, so she's been pleased that she can go to the doctor now without worrying about insurance. Dad only has to worry about his until July, when he will turn 65. He's been in the ER a couple times the last three months for chest pain, but thankfully no further heart attacks - both were muscle-strain related.
Got a new-to-us car in early July, as the Geezermobile finally straight-up died. We got a 2016 Ford Fusion Energi, a plug-in hybrid. We love it so far, especially the gas savings.
And Honorary Baby Sister had her baby end of July. He's healthy and beautiful and has a normal name, thank all the stars - Peter Andrew.
This got long, I'm so sorry. I hope you are all doing well!!
