Happy Anniversary, Cancer

It was a year ago tonight - Friday, July 31, 2015 - that I was told I had cancer. I didn't understand what the doctor was saying - she'd come into my small, curtained recovery stall after the D&C which was just supposed to stop excessive bleeding. I remember she said something like, "We found sarcoma. There was a lot of white stuff." I think I asked what she meant and she probably said "Cancer." She said they were moving up my planned hysterectomy from a month out to a couple of days.

At the same time, I found out later, the surgeon - gynecological oncologist Dr T - was telling my husband the same thing in the waiting room. Dr T told him it was bad, serious.

I stayed in recovery for awhile, then they moved me upstairs to a regular hospital room. I think it was in the women's wing, the labor and delivery section. This was just temporary - I think they were trying to decide when to do surgery. The nurses said I might stay overnight.

In the end they let me go home, with a surgery date of Tuesday, August 4.

Too Little Information, Too Much Information

Since my type of cancer is quite rare, not much information is available to the average person. There's some at the American Cancer Society and the NIH, but otherwise it's mostly medical studies and reports, often written in dense language that's hard to penetrate.

And that info is mostly bad, grim statistics about rarity and survival rates. Very little about the day-to-day of living with this. It's depressing to read. Some of them send me into bouts of despair.

This is not like breast cancer, with all the pink ribbons, pink t-shirts,  and pink parades. Pink support on everything, even yogurt.

Halfway Through Chemo Treatments

I did Cycle 3B on Thursday, which means I'm halfway through the six-cycle plan. On Friday the Neulasta delayed injection went off just fine.

Friday evening I began feeling confused and felt clumsy and off balance when walking. I couldn't concentrate on much and ended up watching TV on the sofa all evening, although I'd planned to try studying.

Today is Saturday, and I felt ok during the day. I went out with a friend for a couple of hours for errands and coffee, then I had other errands so I didn't get home until late afternoon. And soon fell asleep while watching TV.

The fatigue comes in waves. Tonight I'm feeling the beginning of the sore throat that will continue for a week or so.

Chemo Day 2

Chemo Day 1 was September 3 - it's now October 4. I'm going to try to catch up. I've been keep my CaringBridge journal updated, so my friends and family will know what's going on, but I've been lax in writing here.

Chemo Day 2, September 10, the port worked, with a bit of effort. The nurses discovered if I stood up like the statue of liberty - holding my right arm up into the air - they could draw enough blood out of it. So chemo went as planned. Drugs infused were Gemzar, which took about an hour, then Taxotere, which was about 90 minutes. Flushed the port and unhooked me from the machine.

This was the second week of the 2-week cycle, so I was also scheduled for a Neulasta (pegfilgrastim) injection. According to the official website, "Neulasta® is a prescription medication that can help reduce your risk of infection during strong chemotherapy. It does this by boosting the number of certain infection-fighting white blood cells called neutrophils, which strengthens your immune system." https://www.neulasta.com/what-is-neulasta/

Chemo Day 1

Yesterday, September 3, 2015, was the first day of chemotherapy. It did not go as planned.

I was apprehensive, but not nervous or afraid. My husband went with me, since it was the first time. We showed up at 8:45 am to check in and were taken back to an exam room within a few minutes.

That's when things started to go badly. After the weight, blood pressure, and temperature checks by the medical assistant, a nurse came in and explained about how he would draw some blood from the  central port implanted in my chest 3 weeks ago. Each time before they start the chemo infusion, they will draw blood and run some tests to see how my body is holding up.

He said it wouldn't hurt, or not much, and he showed me the special IV needle they use. He felt around the port - I'd worn a shirt that was easily pushed aside to show it - and then inserted the needle into the middle. And it didn't hurt. But he wasn't able to draw blood.

He tried a few times, had me lie down flat to see if that made it better. Nope. He had another nurse come in to see if she could make it work. She said the thought the port tubing looked odd - that it was bulging.