I spent the night in the ER last week. I wasn’t a big deal, just a recurring issue that’s a side-effect of a side-effect of my cancer treatment. It’s starting to feel a little routine.
This time it was a little different, though.
For one thing, the hospital was over-full. This hospital that I usually rave about, got less than high marks from me this time. When I was finally admitted, they put me in the over-flow of the patient over-flow area: pre-op. That was all fine and dandy from 2am when I finally got the room, till 5am when the surgical patients started showing up. Then the constant noise, the fact that the kitchen could never seem to find me to deliver my meals, the lack of a phone (and my cell phone died), the lack of a tv, and the persistent sound of various people vomiting started to get to me. A little. Maybe a lot. But, I was checked out by that evening, so I didn’t have to deal with it for more than a day. And I’m just fine now.
But, I diverted my attention by focusing on something else. It was four years to the day from the night my daughter was born. I went in to the ER just about the same time I arrived at this same hospital four years earlier. With no tv, and plenty of chaos to try to block out of my awareness, I passed the time remembering my daughter’s birth. What an amazing experience. And, I was released from the hospital in time to give my newly-minted 4-year-old a big hug on her birthday.
I’ve spent the rest of the week reminiscing about the past four years with my little girl, and I came across this picture of her baby shark costume from her first Halloween.
Hmmm… maybe this sheds a little light on her current shark obsession. 🙂
You can learn more about my cancer story here:
We spent the sunny Saturday afternoon traipsing around town, when my daughter was inspired into her own impromptu dance recital in front of this mural.
She had no idea that it was the third anniversary of the day my life was turned upside down – the cancer diagnosis. She just grabbed the moment and savored it, so I did as well.
I find it interesting how this anniversary hits me differently each year. Last year, I forgot entirely. But then, I was in a good place.
This year I’ve had a tougher time, and the cancer is on my mind much more regularly. My recent reconstruction surgery plays into that, of course, and my Granny died, and another dear friend just went into hospice.
Cancer does funny things to our heads. A friend, also a survivor, just noted the milestone of experiencing a symptom and not automatically thinking cancer first. We can be fine one day, and the next, unable to ignore the way cancer messed with every single aspect of our lives, from finances and credit ratings and careers, to simple daily frustrations like the day you don’t have the strength to get up and parent a child with patience and presence, and have to yell from the couch across the room. I never wanted to be that mom.
But I’m getting stronger again, and when my strength improves, my attitude does as well.
A little extra daylight may just help a bit, too.
It helps to spend my days with a bouncy, talkative, 40-pound attitude adjuster.
And who could stay in a bad mood around spontaneous dancing like this?
Battling cancer is frustrating. It’s complicated. Cancer isn’t just one disease that acts a specific way, it’s many different creatures that have been categorized under a single umbrella. Different cancers, even different breast cancers, react differently to treatments. And each body reacts to the cancer and the available treatments differently.
I promised an update in an earlier post. Since then, I’ve hit a few bumps in the road. I’ve been stalling on writing this post because I don’t want this blog to turn into a venue for me to whine, but I’m also trying to provide a realistic look at what life with cancer is like – At least life with cancer for this one person.
I got my first dose of Taxol on August 9. The infusion went well and I came home feeling good. The trouble started after the Neulasta shot the next day. That was followed by extreme bone pain, especially in my legs. Pain so bad I ended up waddling like I did the last month of my pregnancy. My toes hurt, I had to wear flip-flops so nothing touched them. Then came the muscle aches. And on a Thursday evening, ten days after the Taxol infusion, I got hives. There were other side effects as well, but you get the picture.
Monday I went back in for the next round of Taxol and made a plan with my doctor for steps to mitigate the intensity of the side effects. I was ready to roll for round two. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of my battle with this disease. Or so I thought. Within the first five minutes of the Taxol infusion I felt a deep burning pain in my lower back. If you experienced back labor during childbirth, you know the intensity of this pain. The pain then worked it’s way up my spine and when it got to my neck, my throat started to swell up.
Of course the nurses came running and my doctor was paged and showed up within a few minutes. The infusion was stopped and I was given Benedryl and Hydrocortisol and monitored to make sure the reaction stopped.
Then we started the Taxol again at a much slower pace. This is standard operating procedure. The idea is that I would be less likely to react to the Taxol if it goes in slower, especially after the Benedryl and Hydrocortisol. And for many patients receiving this chemotherapy, that is the case. A reaction is followed by a successful infusion and they proceed with the Taxol.
Yeah, that next dose didn’t work for me either. This time the reaction was quicker, but less severe. Just hives all over the place. So Taxol is off the table. We are back to the drawing board. I have another appointment with my doctor to discuss other treatment plans that may work well for me. We’re still fighting. I haven’t given up. I just have to find a new weapon to battle this beast.
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