Radiology time

     With our last treatment in sight, it was time to meet the next member of my wife's treatment team.  Our Radiologist is on the first floor of the cancer center, a place we usually only spend a moment or two as we're dropping off our car in the garage.  This part of the building is new to us and we weren't really happy to be there.  This visit was very similar to the others at MDA, very bright and informed doctors with a better grasp on  our own current condition with systematic approaches laid our for our next phase of treatments.  The folks really are some of the brightest we've ever met; unfortunate for the way we had to come about for this meet and greet.  The skinny of the conversation was that we really won't know if radiation will be in our treatment plan until after surgery, which is scheduled for May 10th.  She was very assuring in that we wouldn't apply this treatment unless is was absolutely necessary.  I know, but Amy's so young and wouldn't it help for prevention? Well, it would, but only if certain conditions present themselves which can only be seen during surgery.  So we left feeling relieved and happy.  Yes, we may still have to cross this path, but at least we have a little hope to hold onto and if we do need it, so what, we were expecting it anyway.

     One last chemo treatment and a few weeks for recovery and we'll be moving to the healing phase of this visit to Cancerland.  Always something to be thankful for...

Going It Alone

     With the boys school schedules, shift work, and Amy trying to recover from the last dose, the next appointment seemed to come much faster.  My lovely bride showed up on time, with her mom in tow, only to be turned away for her chemo cocktail.  At this stage in our treatment, we have to get lab work and see our Oncologist before each dose.  Somehow, those two important details were left off of our schedule for today.  So down the elevator to the 2d floor for labs, then up to the 5th floor to wait to see our doc, then up to the top floor for the most dreaded part of all.
     Even though her appointment was scheduled in the morning, it was already after noon when she made it back for her treatment and I was well on my way out of town with the boys for a weekend in the woods with the Boy Scouts.  I didn't want to miss her treatment, but I was outvoted and she wanted me to get them out more than I needed to be with her...still felt helpless not being there.  When she finally called to tell me her and her mom were leaving the hospital, we had already set up camp and were tucked away in our tents for the night.  Another lovely experience at MDA with only one more treatment left on the books.  What was five days for a semblance of recovery has stretched to seven.  The chemicals are building up in her system and taking its toll on her.  Did I mention how much I hate cancer?
     She's pushed through yet another personal holocaust and has somehow made it to the end of this nightmare with her sanity still in check.  We still had our moment of tears when I returned for the weekend trip and our usual talk about not wanting/needing to continue this, that it should be enough, right?  I see why so many survivors show up to the charity sponsored walks/runs and soar through without any complaints or issues - they've been to hell and back, this 5k thing is just a walk in the park.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.  Romans 15:13

Amy vs Chemo

     With our second F/A/C behind us, and fourteen chemo treatments done, this has in no way become a habit.  We still hate everything about this place; the drive, the walk through the endless halls, the smell of the chemo floor...but we trudge through.
     My lovely bride is able to sleep through most of the treatment now.  This helps somewhat for the anxiety, and Amy really isn't in that bad of shape right afterwards.  So we finished our chemo cocktail and moseyed down to the gift shop to try on scarfs and wraps.  After shopping we left the fine establishment of MDA and went back to Gugliani's in the Rice Village for some pizza and lasagna.
     We're good for the first few hours after treatment; then about 9pm, the effects kick in...and keep coming. We changed the nausea medicine to something a little more aggressive.  Still sick, but a different kind of sick.  Imagine the feeling of coming off the flu while just getting off the Tea Cup ride at the rodeo with three youngsters trying to set records for most spins in a ride.  This is close to what she feels for the next five to seven days.  Then she seems to coast out of the rut and start to feel somewhat normal again.
     We still have the expected self examinations and calculating the odds of survival if we cut the treatments short and call it good right here.  I completely understand why my wife feels this way and would contemplate these options.  My part is to help her focus on the finished product and why it's so important we, she, push through these last two treatments and put this nightmare visit to Cancerland behind us.  I'm proud of how Amy has stood up to this disease and to chemo.  I'm with her every step of this journey but it's still hard not feel helpless knowing that this battle is truly one that is fought independently.
Today was Amy vs Chemo.  We're still standing.

F/A/C

     Well today is our first day with the new regimen of F/A/C.   It’s a triple combo of chemo that has specific effects on the cancer cells in the body.  Fluurouracil (5-FU), Adriamycin, and Cytoxan.  5-FU - Antimetabolites kill cancer cells by acting as false building blocks in a cancer cell's genes, causing the cancer cell to die as it gets ready to divide. Adriamycins kill cancer cells by damaging their genes and interfering with their reproduction. Cytoxan - Alkylating agents weaken or destroy breast cancer cells by damaging the cells’ genetic material.

     Yeah, great.  All I got from it were the side effects.  Severe nausea with vomiting. Doctors warning, “Any signs of fever, go straight to the ER!”  This ride just gets better and better.  These treatments are given three weeks apart instead of one.  We only have to take four treatments, but the duration will be the same as the Taxol we just finished.  To tell someone you will be sick and need to get plenty of rest doesn’t have the same effect as having an out of body experience while you’re pretty sure you just tossed an organ on the last visit to the facilities.  This combo is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.  I’ll skip the details and just say that my beautiful wife is very, very sick.  I can’t imagine that we’re supposed to function like this for very long.  But I do see why they give us three weeks before we return – we’ll need it.

Blazing Saddles

     We met with our Plastic Surgeons today.  You would have wanted to be a fly on that wall!  Think Mel Brooks History of the World, Part 1 meets Michael Jackson kissing Lisa Marie on stage…it was a train wreck in slow motion that you couldn't help but laugh (on the inside) and just pray the end was near.  

     After my baby covered all of her surgical options, and there are a lot of options, then she drilled the poor young surgical prodigy about what her expectations were, there’s a lot of those too! So after the info and niceties were exchanged, she was asked to disrobe and put on what was just barely more than a patch with a strap for her bottoms and a gown so the evaluations could take place.  Following hospital protocol, the doctor asked a female nurse to join us, then our primary Plastic Surgeon joined with a large Nikon…you can see where this is going.  She never saw it coming.  Five people in a small hospital room for several compromising pictures…I am certain this will rank as one of the highest most embarrassing moments of her life.  The good doctor covered what he expected of her to prepare for the surgery and I’m fairly confident she didn’t hear one word he said; it was time to go and she doesn’t like to wait. 

     We’ve gone through 16 weeks since our diagnose, 13 weeks since our first chemo, and this is our 12^th and final Taxol.  It was like most of our appointments; slow, late, and the waiting room is always packed.  Once we finished, we trudged home and went straight to bed.  Glad to be done, but not looking forward to what’s coming next.  And for good reason.  She had a really hard time bouncing back from this one.  The treatments have collectively amounted to a barrage of poison that is taking its toll on her.  But a cake walk compared to what we’d face next.

BRACA update

     We did get some good news, Amy tested negative for the BRACA test/gene. It wouldn’t have changed our predicament in the least, but it would have been nice to know why we were here in the first place. My wife has a new appreciation for all those beautiful souls a couple blocks away at Texas Children’s who have to go through the same and more. Not that any of those kids deserved to be there either. We’ll be spending some of our Christmas time there when the holidays roll around again. 

     With the 11^th of 12 treatments staring straight at us, we’re looking at the stats to see what our odds might look like if we call it good right here and just move on. The side effects are relentless and still getting worse. The smell of this place does something to her that’s difficult to explain.  It’s like letting out a bloodcurdling scream without saying a word. The feeling of being cornered, trapped, and isolated along with the anxiety, pain, and nausea makes for an experience most only see in war and, well, in cancer.  

     Two more… by the end of this day, one.

I still hate cancer!

Well, we’re back.  The good doctor offered to start us back on a lower dose to see how her body faired but Amy declined and asked for the full dose – we fully intend to see this through and take every opportunity to decrease our odds of ever coming back.  Good for her!  
     We met with our Genetics MD today.  A lot more is involved than what we were prepared for with this meeting.  The end result was we agreed to participate in the BRACA testing to see if we have the gene that predisposed her to cancer.  After all, there’s not a lot of people with breast cancer still in their 30’s so we were pretty much a given when we walked in.  And it would give us a little closure knowing what caused the derailment of our lives and dropped us flat in the middle of Cancerland…did I ever tell you how much I hate cancer?  
     We're at treatment number 10 with 2 more of the Taxol before we move onto to the triple combo regimen.  After we hit the lab on the 2d floor, we took off upstairs to get back on the chemo roller coaster and really thought it would be easier with the two week break.  We were wrong.