Chemo Day -- Herceptin: YES, Taxol: NO

Apparently, a "little break" is one week.

I received Herceptin today, but no Taxol. My next Taxol treatment will be next Thursday.

I was a little nervous about skipping the treatment, but my oncologist was pretty insistent. When I pressed him about it, he offered to give it to me if I was willing to sign a waver, taking full responsibility for any possible complications. I politely declined, to which he responded "I thought that's what you'd say."

So, I will focus on kicking this cold, which is pretty much taking up all my energy and then some.

I felt a bit better this morning, but by the time I got home I was wiped. I went straight to bed and slept for three hours!

At least I got the Herceptin. (This dose was the free dose provided by Roche)

We still hope to make an evaluation before I am due for my next dose, in three weeks.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Cancer vs. The Common Cold

It occurred to me that having a cold might affect my ability to receive chemo tomorrow.

I emailed my oncologist, who wrote back: "come and we will decide tomorrow--sounds like you will get a little break"

What does that mean?

Do I have the nurses open my port as usual?

I am scheduled to receive both Taxol and Herceptin. If "we" (and by "we," I mean "he") decide to postpone treatments, do we postpone both medications? By how long? A few days? A week? What is a "little break?" (To me, a "break" would be at least a month! We know that is not happening, as we have already established (here) that we can not postpone the Herceptin by more than a week)

Last week, my doctor told me that we would evaluate the efficacy of my treatments in the next two weeks. How does postponing treatment affect our ability to evaluate if the drugs are working?

All these questions, just because of a stupid cold, from which, we agreed last year (see here), cancer patients should be exempt!

It seems that when push comes to shove, the common cold trumps the cancer card!



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Chemo Day -- Today was a Good Day

Today almost did not happen.

Through a bureaucratic oversight, I had not scheduled chemo for today. When I realized this, two weeks ago, today was already booked up -- not so surprising, since the ward was closed Sunday and Monday for Shavuot. (Translation: everyone who usually gets chemo on Sunday or Monday rescheduled for this Tuesday).

I have everything in order for chemo on Tuesdays: someone regularly picks up my kids from school and brings them home, I have no "extracurricular" activities on my schedule, my kids do not need me to bring them anywhere or pick them up, and someone cooks dinner for us (I do not do anything. My friend coordinates the "dinner project" and makes sure that someone magically turns up on our doorstep with a nutritious meal for my family).

The secretary at the chemo ward did not know the back story. To her, the solution was simple: just come in on Wednesday or Thursday. But, for me, Thursday was impossible and Wednesday was near impossible. I teach swimming on Thursdays. Even if you disregard the fact that I am exhausted after chemo, I could not be certain that I would finish chemo before I needed to be at the pool, teaching my first class. (In fact, I was almost certain that I would NOT be at the pool in time to teach my first class). Wednesday was almost as difficult. Again, disregarding the fact that I would be extra tired on Thursday, and have to push myself that much harder to get to the pool, there was no way I could get to school in time to pick up my kids. When I rescheduled chemo for the Wednesday after my retreat, I went straight from chemo to pick up my kids. That was a short chemo day and, even so, I was late. This was going to be a long chemo day.... Not to mention that I would definitely have to cancel my OT appointment.

As if this would not be bad enough on one day, since I have to wait a week between treatments, I would have to repeat this nightmare the following week!

Ironically, I would have liked to be home on Tuesday, since it was Isru Chag (the day after a pilgrimage holiday in Israel) and the kids have off from school. Isru Chag is like an extra gift day with the kids. But the nightmare of chemo on TWO Wednesdays was enough to motivate me to keep chemo on Tuesday.

The secretary directed me to the head nurse, who would have to approve the addition of any more patients to the day's roster. I explained my entire scenario to the head nurse, who listened patiently and then added me to the list. (God bless her!)

So, I turned up today (Tuesday), with about a thousand other chemo patients.

I was prepared for the worst.

All the nurses, though harrowed, harried, and somewhat harassed, were kind to me.

I finished LATE, around 5:00, and no one, not even once, made any sort of joke or comment about how long it took.

I cannot express how much I appreciate that. It made all the difference in the world to me.

It was a LONG day. I got all three drugs. And no massage! (Due to the extra patients, there was no room available). But the nurses were patient and pleasant and I was happy.

My doctor was even able to squeeze us in (despite the aforementioned bureaucratic oversight), and answered a few of my more urgent questions (the regular exam will wait until next week).

My "coffee and chemo date" was a bit late, due to a combination of his going to the wrong hospital (not again!), my having his old cellphone number, and my cellphone's battery not working. But, all's well that ends well. We still had plenty of time to hang out, and ES brought great food for lunch and BOGGLE, which is one of my all time favorite games! (I am quite competitive at games, and pretty good at Boggle, but ES had an impressive vocabulary (better than mine) and was better at spelling. We were fairly evenly matched.)

I forgot how much I like Boggle. I used to have the game, but have not seen it since we moved, almost four years ago. It must be in the same not-yet-unpacked box as my Pente game-- the best birthday present I ever received until last year, and probably my most favorite game, also missing since we moved....

Anyway, the day passed pleasantly, and soon enough I was home with my kids. I had figured that my kids would be so tired after Shavuot, that they would sleep at least until noon. If I was home, they probably would have. But, instead, they woke up fairly early... for them. A ended up going with her friend, AV, to Keiftzuba (a kids' fun park). When I got home, I spent a bit of time with Y and MD, then Y went off to run a peulah (activity) for her snif (youth group branch). Her madricha (counselor) could not come today, and asked Y to organize a peulah in her stead. MD made pasta for dinner. I just enjoyed the activity and my kids' good moods.

Then, I got a ride to a leil limmud (learning evening) organized for the mothers of my son's class. I was so tired, but I was impressed that one of the mother's initiated such an evening, and I wanted to be supportive. I am glad I went. It was a very nice evening.

When I got home, everyone was in bed.

Y was not quite asleep yet. I asked her how her peulah went. She reported that only three girls came, not enough for the activity. I realized how disappointed she must be. I told her that I would have come....

Then I had an epiphany.

I told her about tonight's leil limmud -- how, out of a class of 24 kids, only four mothers came (not including our hostess). Still, we had a good time, talking and learning. The evening was a success, even though most mothers did not show up.

"But you went," my daughter looked up at me, with a smile.

"Yes," I told her, "I went to be supportive. I would have come to your activity as well...."

She smiled.

Then, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

STUCK

I met with my oncologist this past Tuesday. I had a list of questions for him. Most were simple. Some were not...


I asked: "What's the plan?"

He answered: "To keep doing what we're doing."

I clarified: "Do I understand correctly that I keep taking these drugs until they stop working, and then I take something else?"

He answered: "Yup."

I asked: "Will I get any breaks?"

He answered: "Nope."

I persisted: "I've met people with metastasis who have breaks in their treatment."

He stated: "I don't know about other patients."

I asked: "But will there be times that I don't need to be on chemo?"

He responded: "That's a rephrase. I've answered that question."


He emphasized that we are aiming for stability; that our goal is that the cancer doesn't grow. I don't like that. I don't want it to "stay the same." I want the cancer to shrink. I want it to go away.

It is difficult for me to accept that I will always have cancer.

I am having a hard time with the chemo-for-life thing.

Yeah, yeah, I know... "It's better than the alternative."

It still sucks.

I can live with it.

People get used to it.

I'm stuck.

I gotta' get past it.

This is the way it is.

Accept it and move on.

I have cancer.

Next.


Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA