Buckets of Lists

Who ever coined the term “bucket list” is one of my least favorite people. I mean ok, we’re all gonna kick the bucket someday but when you have cancer, it’s not a phrase you want to be hearing over and over. Bucket list my butt. Call it something else. Like My To DO List.

Ah Paris!

My little pink moka pot

Going to Paris is a #1 priority for me. Just haven’t had the opportunity yet. Yes, yes, I travel to Europe frequently but I just haven’t had a Paris adventure yet. I’ll get there eventually. Buying an espresso machine is another to do item. Sometimes you just need to get down to basics and get it done (and yes, I make an awesome coffee with a stovetop moka pot).

Now that I’m on short term disability I have a lot of thinking time.

I make mental lists. To do lists. Things I need for the house, supermarket lists, time to clean out the closet lists. What if I have to spend a day or two in the hospital and I haven’t organized my closet? Thinking like that could qualify me for a role in a Woody Allen film.

Being a cancer patient has given me a lot of thinking time. Chemotherapy is officially over. The familiar territory of the Cancer Center of MGH Danvers will not be so familiar anymore. At least not until I start radiation. The familiar has stepped aside for the unknown. Surgery will be scheduled. Radiation will be scheduled. It will be a new territory. Am I scared? Yes, a little. It’s normal. Fear of the unknown is human nature.

For my first chemo session I was a train wreck. Today was my last session. I was a pro.

Great latte

 The most important thing on my to do list right now is to get better. That, along with being with family and friends tops the list. Oh yes. And an espresso machine!

Thank you Rosemary Grant and Dr. Erica Linden for keeping me sane and healthy.

Yes, chemo side effects suck but I managed to live through it with your guidance and support. I love you both.

Thanks to all my friends and family here and in Trieste, Italy for keeping me smiling.

And most important thanks to my husband Stu and our son Spencer for being wonderful. I couldn’t do this without you both.

Treatment stats: 1/3 down. 2/3 to go.

Chemo stats: 8 down. 0 to go.

 BOOYAH! I did it!!!

Well It’s About Time

So I finally did it. I decided to opt into short-term disability at work. Mostly everyone I know said, “Well it’s about time.”  Of course there are those who still believe that because I don’t look sick, I’m perfectly fine. They. Just. Don’t. Get. It.

Now I need to take care of me. Especially the weeks before surgery. I need to pamper myself and be a little bit selfish. I need to say yes to people wanting to do things for me. I’m so used to being the in control, doing everything myself person that I need to take a step back and say whoa girlfriend. Time to slow down. My doctors and nursing staff agree wholeheartedly.

I’ll still run errands when I feel up to it. Chemo is a funny thing. Some days I feel pretty good. Usually in the morning hours. Afternoons and evenings I’m pretty worn out. These are the times to catch up on Netflix and reading and napping.

I need to be more like Zoe!

 I asked Erica (my oncologist) for a sleeping aid. Something that wouldn’t give me a hung over feeling. She prescribed me a teeny pill that she said little old ladies take. I thought ok. I can be a little old lady. Well. This pill is about as effective as an M&M. I just lay there in bed waiting and waiting and waiting. It didn’t happen. I tried Tylenol PM. Nothing. I should try straight Benedryl. It IS allergy season after all. They give me massive doses thru my port during chemo and that works great. Maybe now that I’m not working and I don’t have to set my alarm clock I can go for a stronger RX.

I wonder if I’ll be bored while on disability. 2 months off. It’s not like I can do any serious traveling. What a shame. I can’t do a lot of retail therapy either. Short-term disability means a shorter paycheck as well. So this means closet cleaning time. Booyah!

And so, I have one more session of the chemo spa. ONE MORE SESSION. Wow. Then I start a whole new phase of treatment. Progression is a wonderful thing.

7 down. 1 to go. Breast cancer, I’m kicking your ass!

The Lighter Side of Chemotherapy??

OK. So realistically chemo sucks. It’s poison chemicals doing a number on the body.

But once in awhile something amusing happens. And sometimes some endearing things happen.

The other day I was sitting on the couch watching TV with my husband Stu. We were watching my newest obsession: The Property Brothers. Stu watches it for the renovations. I do too sort of. But mostly because Drew and Jonathan Scott are hotties. Anyway…Stu looked at me and said you smell like chemicals. I smelled my arm. Whoa. I did. The stuff is just oozing out of my pores. I immediately put on some body crème. It helped a lot.

This time of year I get chewed up by mosquitoes. Well now. Not a single one has landed on me. Spider bites too. Nada. They can smell poison a mile away. Cool. A chemo benefit.

As much as I despise my bald head, I have to say that summer humidity will not be a problem. No bad hair days.

My nails have been slowly turning grey. Not an attractive thing. The solution? Fabulous nail polish in a darker color. Who cares if it’s warm weather? I’m sporting purple nails. I love purple.

My poor feet have chemical burns. And after burns what happens? Peeling. Massive peeling. It’s almost funny. Again, I have great crèmes to combat that. I go through them like Stu eats through a bag of potato chips. Lotions and crèmes used to last me forever. Now I go through a tube or jar a week. It’s kind of fun choosing new ones. Always the product junky.

 

One of our cats, Zoe, has been glued to me since I started chemo (she also happens to like the smell of all the lotions). But she knows something’s up. She’s not the most affectionate cat. She’s a princess. But she’s been a constant fixture in any room I’m in. At night she sleeps on my feet. If it’s cooler out she’ll sleep in my face. If I’m cooking in the kitchen she’s right there. Watching TV? She’ll be on the floor next to the couch, or on a chair. Pets have an uncanny sense of things.

I also get a steroid drip. It makes me so energetic for two days that I can’t sleep. I do all the things in the house that I can’t manage after a few days when it wears off and I hit the floor.

And finally, at last Monday’s chemo spa I had my usual bag of Benedryl to combat any allergic reaction the Taxol might pull. Benedryl knocks me out. By the way…it’s great for long haul flights. Just saying. Anyway, since I was in a private room I decided to turn down the lights. Stu was there too and we decided to both take a nap. I reclined my chair all the way and he had a comfy chair and put his feet up on a stool. I reach for the remote to hit the light switch. Hit it a bunch of times because the light wasn’t going out. Of course it wasn’t. I hit the call button instead. OOPSY. Half a dozen staff came running in. I was very apologetic and they were all relieved especially when I said OK…shall we order pizza???

These are the moments I’ll remember. The bad side effects I’ll try to erase. Who needs that anyway?

Have a great weekend all.

Hey, You Look Great!

I may look great, but in actuality I feel like I’ve been trampled by two teams of Clydesdales.

Chemo is funny that way.

I’ve had two sessions of the next chemical and it’s called Taxol. It’s fairly aggressive. It makes me tired, achy and all around blah. My brain says let’s go do stuff but my body says go away I’m in hibernation ‘till this is over.

Unless you’ve been through chemotherapy, it’s difficult to describe the physical presence of the chemicals coursing through my body. And of course every chemo for every person is different.

The sessions of AC were horrific, making me feel seasick 24/7. I could feel little pacmen chomping away at my left boob. That part was cool. The Taxol is a bit more intense. No more feeling like I’m going to barf every five seconds. However, the little pacmen are gone, having been replaced by Mortal Kombat. It kind of takes my breath away.

I finally went back to work a few days a week after being home quite sick for almost two weeks. I still feel pretty lousy, but that’s the way it goes. I’m just waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel and it IS getting closer.

In the meantime I have people saying to me, “Wow you look great. You’re all better, right?” Of course I look great. I spend a fortune in skincare and makeup products. I’m not leaving the house looking like death. That doesn’t work for me. And I’m not all better. “Well just rest and you’ll be better soon.” Nope. Chemotherapy doesn’t work that way. This isn’t a cold. You don’t rest and get better. One day you feel fine and the next day you may feel like pure crap. No amount of R& R is going to work when there is poison coursing through my veins. My immune system is non-existent.

So when people say, “Hey, you look great” I just smile and say thanks. And I inch closer to that faint light at the end of the tunnel.

6 down, 2 to go. Getting closer!