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FEEL FREE TO MAKE YOUR OWN THREAD ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCES WITH CANCER/BREAST CANCER. EVEN IF YOU DON'T GET REPLIES, YOU WILL HAVE A SAFE PLACE TO LET IT ALL OUT. ALSO, YOUR POSTS ARE WELCOME IN THIS THREAD. biggrin


Boy, this is great! I just got back from the doctor's appointment (the surgeon who did my biopsy), and got a whole bunch of information about what to expect next. First, I have to have a chest x-ray, bone scan and CT. Then blood tests, and with all those results, I see the oncologist, who will decide on a treatment regime.

My surgeon said that I might be using a Port-a-Cath, which is an implantable venous access system... this is for delivery of chemo therapy directly to an artery/vein? in the chest. I am not sure what chemical(s) yet, as it is the oncologist who will explain the results of the biopsy tissues to me, not the surgeon who did the biopsy. So, I guess I was wrong about once-a-month chemo. Sounds like it will be more like once a week. At least. My tumor is quite large, and the breast is already undergoing edema from displacement of tissue. The chemo, as I currently understand it, will be to reduce the edema and size of the tumor as well as be aimed at any other places in the body where the cancer has traveled. The scan, x-ray and CT will address that, though they are not necessarily totally accurate (from what the Love book described anyway). All those results will determine which chemicals are to be used.

My landlord (owns this farm), friend and the person who gives me a ride to all these various medical events (I have no transportation right now, and live in a rural area) just (I mean just now!) called and she has made my appointments for me... blood work tomorrow -- bone scan, chest x-ray and CT on Tuesday -- and the appointment with the oncologist Friday. Wow, I will have a lot of info in one week... I'll know what type of cancer, what options for treatment, and some kind of time table for all of it. I was too overwhelmed by all of the information to make the appointments myself right away.

Pam is incredibly helpful. I can listen to the doctor (she comes in with me) and take notes, but I'm so shaky I forget things. And when it comes to making appointments, I get confused on who to call when. Pam keeps all of that straight and has even been calling to make the appointments for me. She has known for two and a half years that I have a lump, and have not gone to the doctor (what an idiot I am). All the way through, she asked me gently now and then if I had seen a doctor yet.

I'm relieved and scared. I cried just a little on the way back home, but I kept my face turned and didn't talk to Pam about it. There was something on the radio that drew my attention, and we talked about that a little. She had the same doctor when she had BC. He recognized her, it was funny. He's a nice man, straightforward but gentle.

So, now I step forward to my journey and battle. I'm ready. I have a cushion in the bathroom, all ready for me to kneel on while I puke into the toilet. LOL. I also have a bucket by my sofa/futon/bed for quick-puke use. I have plenty of canned and frozen stuff to eat that will take little time to prepare. The TV is angled perfectly for my chair at the computer and sitting or lying on the sofa.

My next step is to look up the kinds of food that are best for undergoing chemo (I'm sure I can get the oncologist to tell me what *not* to eat). I am anxious to know how long the chemo treatment will last before I have the surgery. I'm also anxious to know the results of the chest x-ray, since I am a long-time smoker. Duh.

TESTS, TEST, TESTS


Today I finished the last of my preliminary tests. I had the biopsy last week, Monday I had blood drawn for tests, and today whew! I was in the hospital as an outpatient from 7:30am till 1:30pm. First I had a chest x-ray. No problemo.

Then I had a CAT scan... ugh. I had to drink 30 ounces of that white chalky stuff (barium)... one 15 ounce jug then an hour wait for it to get down where it was supposed to be, then another 15 ounce jug. Then another hour wait till they came and got me for the scan. They injected my veins with something and damn if I can remember what. LOL. I also had to drink half a cup of grape juice... for contrast. lol Scan was no problemo either. (Well, now that I'm home, I am shitting white liquid... no idea how long THAT will last)

Then they grabbed me for the bone scan. They injected me with this dye that makes you heat up all over your body (only for a few minutes). The bone scan lasted a long time... very slowly in and out of the scanner thingy, then a pause while the technician read the results, then another scan. Like three times. Each scan lasted 20 minutes (lying flat on my back with my feet taped together).

I had the results sent to both the surgeon and the oncologist. I meet with the oncologist Friday morning. That's when I get the bad news. I know my cancer is quite advanced, from the reading and just looking at it. What type of cells I don't know yet, but I will on Friday. The other tests I went through today will help detect whether it has spread elsewhere in my body.

Ya know, all I can say to anyone reading this is GO IMMEDIATELY to a doctor if you find a lump. This means you too, guys. I just waited a hell of a long time, and it is coming back to me now.

Take care of yourselves out there. You are worth it. heart

Dayum. I totally forgot that I have an appointment Monday - I go in for the CT of the chest and a MUGA of the heart. The MUGA is interesting... they inject you with radioactive red blood cells, then use a gamma camera to capture a movie of your heart. They can tell if you have had a heart attack, how strong your heart is at pumping blood, and if there is any damage to the heart tissue. This is used as a baseline for further MUGA scans to follow the effect of the chemotherapy on the heart. Evidently one or both of the chemicals they plan to use can have a negative affect on the heart. The CT of the chest is, I believe, because I am a smoker, and they want to see how much lung function there is. This will determine what anesthetic they use during the mastectomy.

Luckily, the doctor's office called this afternoon to remind me. Remind? I swear I never knew about it. I knew I had to get those tests, but did not realize they were already scheduled.

Maybe Pam made the appointment, since she drives me and appointments have to be scheduled so they don't conflict with her work. Man, I'm sort of slipping here... I think I just don't want to think about it until it's time for another appointment. This is the only one before the Friday counselling with my surgeon. I think it's my surgeon. LOL. Either that or the oncologist. Pam will get me there, whatever it is.

The Monday appointment is another four to five hour deal. I don't really mind that, and I don't mind needles or the scan tubes or whatever. I just mind the results. Sigh. Time to bolster up my courage.

Heart is ok. biggrin

Lungs... well, considering I'm a smoker and have been for 40 years, there was some "scarring", otherwise known as COPD or emphysema. I figured I had it since I do have a "smoker's cough", but for now all I can do is cut way down on smoking. I mail ordered a bunch of cinnamon sticks, and have been using them (not lit) as a cig substitute. It works pretty well. I'm still smoking, but a lot less.

So the doctor showed me the Port-o-Cath thing, and said it would look like the one he showed me or could be different, could be made of plastic. On August 22nd, I go into surgery to have that implanted. Possible complications include infection and/or lung collapse. The lung collapse would shoot me into further surgery and keep me in the hospital at least that night. He didn't sound like complications were very common.

He also had me run through some more tests today... a couple of blood tests, another chest x-ray and an EKG.

I can call for those results if I want, but probably won't. Nothing I can do about them, and if there is, they will call me.

Now, to keep away from the cigarettes and wait for August 22. I will not be totally under for that surgery. Good.

I have to contact the oncologist about his Rx for the anti-nausea drug, with is $75 a crack. If he writes me an Rx for a 90 day supply, the cost will be $35 for the whole 90 days by my using mail order prescription service. Good thing I have decent insurance (BC/BS Federal).

They will start me on chemo any time after the Port-o-Cath is inserted. I guess I'm ready.

I took off the bandage several days ago. The site is clean and smooth, except for the stitches which are still dissolving. But there is no open wound at all.

The darvocet thing pill didn't work too well after the first couple of days. Plus, I got an abscessed tooth about that time, so I had terrible pain from that. I finally quit the darvocet and used ibuprofen, which helped a lot more. Today (middle of the night Saturday) the tooth is better and I am not taking any pills. I even ate solid food (was eating soup all week). Toughing it out.

I will go to refill the darvocet tomorrow and fill the Rx which prevents the awful nausea from chemo. Supposedly, it nearly eliminates it, but it's $75 a pill. Jesus. I will talk with my insurance company and on Monday I talk with the oncologist... I'll ask him to re-write the Rx so it is for 90 days, which is how the insurance company cuts the price.

I hate having things like this to do... I'm not an organized person, and I'm also a little forgetful lately. Stress.

Wow, Mary and Lynn (r/l Kentucky, not on Gaia) sent me a gift certificate to Amazon, and I'm browsing away. I came across a cancer book that had a really hit-home bit in it. I quote about 7 words of it below... the rest is my running away with the subject.

You know when I get a REALLY negative attitude (and pissed off)? When well meaning people say something like, "There is no such thing as an incurable disease, only incurable people," or "you'll make it, I have no doubt." WHAT THE ********? These people need to learn that it is better to listen than to talk if you are not intimately familiar with the disease and the person's particular status with the disease. NOBODY knows if anyone will survive, not doctors, "healers", nurses, priests, wives, husbands, parents, children, or friends. Or the patient.

It is up to the patient to keep as positive an attitude as possible, but predictions of 100% survival by people who do not know what they are talking about makes that very difficult. Frankly, it makes me want to throw one of my urine samples in their face.

Gee, I feel better already!


Oh, the Amazon gift. I bought Stephen King's On Writing, which has been recommended to me several times, and the reviews I've seen are remarkably good.

Then I compared space heaters for almost an hour. My last one finally conked out (I used it a lot one winter), and I like to have one handy in case I have wet firewood, or if the fire goes out in the night and I have to get one started and putting out the heat in the morning. It's not something I use every day, but definitely something I need to have around. I picked a good one with safety features, two heat settings and a fan only setting. It also can be adjusted to emit heat in a total 360 degree circle, or in a 180 degree half circle. It has a small footprint, necessary in this little place. The gift certificate covered the total cost including shipping for the heater. Thus my happy shopping spree. ^_^

s**t. I forgot to get the compazine filled. I'll msg Pam and call her in the morning to see if she can get it for me. They might have some at the hospital, of course, and we can get it filled on the way home from the treatment Tuesday.

I wanted to go to the pharmacy Saturday, but we got a bit of Hanna and there were flash floods, terrible winds, trees falling, and the electricity went out, so it wasn't a good day to drive anywhere. That was ok in a way... just as the electricity came back on at 9:45, The Bourne Ultimatum came on. Oh boy, I'd been waiting for that. It played all night and I watched it three times. The car chases were great, and the chase a-foot across the roofs of Tangier was really well done.

Sunday (today) I hit a major low and tried to sleep it off, but dreamed of horrible cancer stuff. I was scared, and sweating. I went nowhere, till late afternoon when I went outside and chatted a little with Leonard about the horses. The colt (Marty) that I helped deliver two years ago, got some shin blisters and is back off the track (was only in training, not racing). He's a lovely colt, but not very tall (I thought he would be, but oh well). He also has rather small nostrils, and I personally never bet a horse that doesn't have a nice, big opening to the airways. But I didn't talk about that stuff with Leonard.

It seems Marty's testicles haven't descended yet, so he is not castrated. So, he is still a bitey boy... I went to have a talk with him and give him some carrot bits, and I had to put my hand down low with the carrots in order to stroke his face, otherwise he'd open his mouth and try (try, not actually attack) to bite my arm. Little s**t.

So, we'll see about tomorrow. But I don't think I'll need the compazine till tomorrow evening. The treatment won't end till 3pm or so, and that gives time to go to the pharmacy. I take the Emend before the treatment, and have two lower dose pills of it for the next two days. The compazine is to bridge any gaps in coverage. The oncologist will talk to me about proper use of those two drugs.

I'm sure glad there are horses on this farm. They give me something interesting and happy to see and think and talk about. And my Jack, well, he was ticked off last night... kept meowing at me while I was trying to watch the movie... I've been forgetting to shut up his cat flap at night, so he has been going out for late night adventures.... I don't like that, because there are stray dogs, foxes, maybe coyotes (we are not sure yet, but there are some not too far from here)... in other words, he might get into some major trouble after dark.

So last night I remembered to shut his door, and tonight also. And last night, he whined all ALL night about it! Disrupted my movie. LOL. Tonight, he seems back to normal, and has accepted that he has to stay in at night. He's in the back room lying on the bar at the window, which has a screen on one side so he can see and smell what's going on.

My, this is turning into a strange blog thing. But all of this is connected, since the stress and the need for relief from stress is all part of the cancer thing.