sputnik is active

It's been a bit of a gap since my last post. I didn't forget about you, dear readers, I came down with a terrible flu between my 5th and 6th doses.  Fever, sore throat, cough and still clogged ears -- something delightfully called otitis media.  The nasty little ENT doc told me it could be 1,2 or 3 months before I get my hearing back.
 I was on the couch for almost 2 weeks.  They cleared me for pneumonia and low blood cell count, and sent me back home to get over it.  I was really sick, haven't been like that since I was a kid.  My mom came into town and helped take care of me (thanks mom) while hubby Ned worked like mad to get his solo show open last Friday.
I checked with Dr. C in philly and he recommended I take the 6th dose without delay since my blood cell count was fine.  My local onc said to put it off (of course).  I put my trust again in Dr. C and took my 6th Ixempra dose last Wednesday.
It's been so busy, mom here, my good friend Yoon from law school came into town.  She's super fun like a delectable cocktail on a summer night.  Ned's awesome opening, and, of course the neverending story of my treatment.
I've been tired and super cranky the last 2 days.  The PET CT didn't help.  I need to pull it together and feel the small joys.  Das-vi-dania!

Yield

Recovering from dose 5 of Ixempra at home.  I'm not as sick or exhausted at dose 4, which is a relief.  Last time I spent 4 days in bed with netflix watching every episode of Doc Martin -- a British dramedy.  By the end I felt like a villager of Cornwall.  I'm self paying for what's called a Circulating Tumor Cell blood test that Dr. C follows.  My HMO wont cover it.  It's a bit wonky, but they count the actual number of cancer cells in the blood to figure how active the cancer is in spreading.  The other tests the CEA and CA-15 measure serums secreted by cancer cells as they multiply.  The private lab mistakenly destroyed my blood sample and I had to go back in to give another blood draw.  frackin' annoying.  Luckily my favorite nurse David was there to do the draw.  I'm taking it slow, trying to get as much as I can from my days, walks, baking, trying new recipes, learning French.  A woman in my support group is  dying.  She's going to hospice.  She's 41, at the most.  My heart is broken for her and her family.  If I think about it too hard I go into a panic attack about my own situation.  She was also on Ixempra, but it couldn't stop her cancer.  This crap is so damned unfair.  Everything can be taken away from you fast, even if you fight like hell.  Deep breath.

Round 2 of Chemo

After a bit of a debate, I just got round two of my Ixempra IV chemotherapy yesterday.  My local oncologist recommended putting it off until after my trip to Europe next week.  It was tempting.  My consulting Onc. in Philadelphia, Dr. C advised against putting it off.  It was an impossible decision.  Since there's no cure, how do you decide?  After much stress, I decided I committed to follow Dr. C for now, and took a slightly reduced dose of Ixempra.
Like clockwork, my hair fell out almost 3 weeks to the day of my first infusion.  I have a few tiny tufts and some fringe of bangs.  But not for long.  I made the decision to go to a fancy custom wig maker today, to see what he can do for me.  Stay tuned.
This is one of my new collage pieces.  I made this one shortly after my liver biopsy, but I think is generally a reflection of my treatment.  She is from a turn 1909 Ladies Home Journal -- an Ad for her extremely uncomfortable girdle.  She looks so sad in it!  It sure doesn't make me want to order a Warner's Rust-Proof Corset.

Taking a breather

It's been a week since I started my super chemotherapy cocktail, and it definitely knocked me off my feet.  I've started Ixempra IV every three weeks and oral Zeloda pills.  I've been too tired to update the blog.  But I'm going to update every few days again.  Ugh, it was a loooong infusion.  I got a antihistamine pre-med pack and then a pepcid premed pack-- I didn't know they gave Pepcid through an IV.  Then I got my Aredia while they waited for the antihistamine to activate, finally the Ixempra.  I had my IV in at least 5 hours!   This time I got the fancy private room, otherwise we're all in a big room with windows and 10 filled recliners.  IV machines beeping off the seconds.
They stressed me out about the side effects of the drugs, I've doubled down this time. I took the advice of the Philadelphia specialist verses my local onc. and am getting twice the toxicity.  The Ixempra makes your bones hurt.  Like you have a high fever, without the fever.  I imagine it's the crackling of my bone marrow cells being fried.  The Ixempra will make my hair fall out.  I have about 2 weeks left of my mane.  The Zeloda gives you neuroapthy-- pins and needles in your hands and feet and worse.  The pictures horrified me.  And I live in fear of getting thrush, a common side effect of chemotherapy.
I've had to nap everyday since treatment started.  I hope I'll adjust, but chemotherapy is cumulative, so you get more toxic as you go on.  I'm feeling sad and overwhelmed.  But I'm still not giving up.  I'd eat live wasps in a glass shard gravy if they told me to.  Crunch, crunch, crunch.