So, How have you been?

Hello, it's been awhile...so get some snacks, I may ramble on with this one...I had my (third) mugascan on Tuesday February 17th and it was reasonably uneventful except for one funny story. I've learned that people can be very solemn when working around cancer patients, but if you give them permission to laugh, things can lighten up a lot. My head right now is completely bald except for One hair that is about 1/2 inch long and can be seen only in certain lighting. The one tech that I have seen for all 3 scans has always been very polite but sooo serious. So I showed her my one hair and said, "When I say I have to get a hair cut, I mean it." This time she laughed and said in her accented voice, "You're funny, you're a funny lady. We don't get too many funny people here..." And with that the tension eased and she was able to "chat" with me. And oh, PS, my mugascan was fine.

So I went for my last scheduled chemo on Thursday, February 19th. Same routine as the others. This chemo went smoothly and we were out in the shortest amount of time. I am going to bring a little something to my 2 nurses to say thank you and let them know what a difference they made in putting my mind at ease. It's a funny feeling. First, there may be more chemo depending on the final studies or a recurrence. But assuming the best, it is still a difficult place to be in. On the one hand, I am soooo glad that the chemo is over! But while I was getting chemo, I felt as if I was actively doing something to fight the cancer. Now that it is over it feels like "the die is cast" and hopefully it did what it was supposed to do. It's at these times that I remember what Dr. Simmons said, "Your cancer is in the pathology lab, the rest of the treatment is for insurance."

The side effects following this last chemo were the worst. They lasted a good two weeks. For those of you who remember what "Day Five" meant for the first 2 chemos, well, it happened on Day Three this time. I think I had a break for the last few due to the fact that I was on so much Prednisone, but who knows? This episode was very scary and I felt the closest to dying that I ever want to feel until it is my time...

Some amazing things happened too. One day I was sitting in Borders having a hot chocolate and people watching. I watched as a woman ordered a latte and was soo delighted that it came in a ceramic mug. I thought to myself, that woman really finds joy in the simple things. Later I stopped in the rest room and she was there. From behind closed doors she asked me, "Are you in the middle of treatment?" I answered that I was. She said, "I finished a few months ago...uterine cancer stage 4." I said, "Breast cancer stage 3." She laughed and said, "Nice to meet you." She told me that she saw me sitting with my hot chocolate in direct line with the only ray of sunshine and it reminded her of how healing it was for her to be in nature. She said that it looked as if I had good support. Then she told me that she would pray for me. Totally unsolicited and unexpected from a stranger behind a closed door in the bathroom. I was touched and told her that I would pray for her as well. This was a God moment.

There was another similar moment in a Starbucks. (Apparently I stop for a lot of coffee/hot chocolate these days...). Actually Colleen and I were there with Olivia on her birthday. We were laughing and telling stories when a man who had been sitting in the corner reading got up and walked over to our table. He introduced himself and told us that he was a minister in northeast Philly. He told me that he would be praying for me. So simple and yet so amazing for me. Acts of kindness. Offers of prayers from strangers. So powerful. Shared mostly, because my head is bald. And I don't always wear a hat because I get too hot. In a few months my hair will be growing back and again there are mixed feelings. For the most part this will be a blessing because it will signal that I am moving through treatment and healing - that I am on my way to the rest of my life. But there is a small part of me that realizes that once I have hair again and look (reasonably) like everyone else, strangers will stop initiating conversations with me about what is important, they will not come over uninvited and talk to me because it will feel intrusive to them, and perhaps what I will miss most, is that they will stop praying for me.

I have no doubt that those two strangers have been praying for me as I have been praying for them. Something caught their eye and indicated to them that I was going through treatment for something bigger than I could handle on my own, and through their gracious spirits they offered assistance. I have often wondered, especially lately, how many people are going through things "bigger than they can handle on their own" but it just doesn't show as clearly as a bald head. We may pray for people in general who are suffering, but for these past few months I've gotten a wonderful gift. I've gotten the gift of prayer from strangers who specifically prayed for me and reminded me that we are not strangers at all. I will miss that, but I will remember it.

So, on March 3rd (I told you you were going to need snacks...), I went to see Dr. Kennedy for my follow up visit. My heart rate is still high (it was in the 130s) but I hope as I can lose weight (including that prednisone weight...) and become more active that it will regulate itself. Dr. Kennedy is an extraordinary woman and doctor. I know without question that I am in the right hands. I thanked her for getting me through this part of the chemo and went to shake her hand. She bypassed the hand and hugged me instead. (Another God moment) She will be sending me for more tests over the next few months to check on the pneumonitis and see how the chemo did its job. I'll be on the bactrim for another couple months but off the prednisone after 5 more doses over two and a half weeks. She ordered another pelvic ultrasound to check on that "bright spot in my uterus" (doesn't that PET Scan seem like such a long time ago?). She needs to know just where I am concerning menopause in order to plan out the next stage of treatment. I will be getting tamoxifin for a period of time followed by femara.

On Tuesday, March 10th at 10am I have an appointment with Dr. Gressen, a radiation oncologist at Frankford Torresdale. He is going to mark me for the radiation treatments which will be Monday through Friday for 5 weeks. I believe they will start on the 16th because they still want the chemo to be working when the treatment transitions to radiation. Dr. Kennedy said that the fatigue from the chemo will last another few months (!) and the radiation adds its own brand of fatigue. Glad I have such wonderful support that I don't have to worry about doing anything. I want to thank all of you who have prepared a meal, sent a card, e-mail, or Facebook, made rice pudding, suggested funny movies, offered your humor or said a prayer for me. Your presence in my life at this particular time is worth more than all the medical treatments combined.

On to the next...talk to you later...

P.S. I will be uploading more photos soon...stay tuned...