Chemo Round 1

Hello! According to my chemo regimen, today is day 6 for me, and I am feeling more and more like my normal self almost after going through one round of chemo. How has it been? Let me share the experience with you using some visual aids.

Day 1 - First off, it's just a surreal experience. On the day I was getting chemo, two friends from the Language Arts department at school were also there. Linda (on left) was there for chemo, and Pam (middle) came later for radiation. Here we are taking a photo in my chemo infusion room. Linda's husband, Scott, thinks if we wrote a book, the perfect title would be The English Patients. As terrible as it is for us to be going through this journey, I thank my lucky stars every day that I have these two brave and wonderful women to help support me in the process. I know I would be more scared if I didn't have them to rely on for advice and help.

Secondly, getting the chemo itself wasn't a terrible process. It didn't hurt. I didn't have any reactions. The nurses were soooooo nice, and my mom was there to do all the worrying for me. :) It was a long day (from 11-4:30) though because the doctor sees you to go over the procedures and note how your doing, etc... The infusions took 3.5 hours, and then they let me go. I felt a bit tipsy and slightly nauseous walking around after the infusion, but the medications worked to combat that, and I fell asleep with no problem that night.

Day 2 - This was supposed to be a "good day," meaning that I would feel pretty normal before the chemo really hit hard on day 3. Not so. All I wanted to do was sleep, sleep, and sleep some more. If Prince Charming had come along to save me, I would have slept right through his interventions. Get up for true love's kiss? No thanks, I just want to sleep.  I really don't remember much about this day other than just being so tired. I had to go in for my Neulasta shot, which stimulates the production of white blood cells in your bones to help keep your immune system up. Even while the nurse was preparing me for the shot, I just wanted her to be quiet so I could fall asleep in the comfy chair.

Day 3 and 4 - Started feeling a little more energetic, but still needed frequent naps throughout the day or time just to lie down. To my surprise, food tasted fine, and I was hungry. On day 4, I started feeling the effects of the Neulasta shot because I suddenly had bone pain across the tops of my shoulders. What?! Felt so weird. Pretty soon, the feeling traveled, and the bone pain could be felt in lots of bones from the waist up. Why not the legs?  No idea. I did a walking workout to see if activity would help alleviate some of the pain, and it did. Imagine me prancing around just like the lady below. Sassy!

Day 5 and 6 - Feeling much more back to normal. Some waves of nausea but mostly just uncomfortable because of the bone pain. My head still feels a bit loopy as if I'm on cold medicine, but it's doable. Pam told me early on that it was "all manageable," and now I see what she means. I kind of just feel like I'm getting over being sick -- a little achy and a little tired and a little groggy. Hopefully, the next few days will keep getting better. Next stop: the wig shop. I go in for a fitting this Thursday even though I shouldn't lose my hair for another week. Wish me luck!

Love and light,
Jennifer

On your mark, get set...

Hello! The port is in, and how I wish the port was in reference to a cruise I might be taking! Alas, it is  instead a rubbery bump stitched just below my right collarbone which will allow my nurses to access my veins much more easily for everything. I begin chemo today at 11:00-4:30, so say lots of prayers that it all goes well. I am doing okay. The last few days have been a bit emotional and anxiety-ridden, but my parents are here, and I made my peace with it last night. As a result, I slept a full 8 hours without waking up once (unheard of!) and did an easy walking workout this morning, so I feel ready to GO!

Love and light,
Jennifer

Eat the Cheesecake

Hello! Yesterday quite a lot happened. It was my birthday, and I had my oncology appointment to find out my test results and chemo plan. When my name popped up on the doctor's screen, it had a little digital cake by it and a note that said, "Jennifer is 45 today!". So cute! But also....kind of weird. 

At any rate, my oncotype test came back, and the purpose of it was to measure the chance of recurrence happening if I did no chemo or radiation and only took Tamoxifen pills for the next 10 years. If I had scored between 1-18, I would be at low risk for the cancer returning if I did no chemo. If I had scored between 18-36, I would be at medium risk for it returning with no chemo. The short and the long is that my score was a whopping 55. High risk for the cancer returning if I did nothing. Yikes! So, the test solidified the fact for me that I need chemo and radiation for sure.

How do I feel about this? I was shocked that the score was so high, but after sleeping on it, I realized that this is my chance to get all the treatment I can as a preventative measure. Chemo will last 5 months for me + radiation after. I can only hope that I get through this one bad year and come out on the other side feeling like I did everything I could, so I have no regrets. My care team nurse also talked me off the high-score-ledge by saying, "Remember, if the cancer had been solidly in the lymph nodes, we wouldn't even have done this test because you would have been at a higher risk for recurrence anyway, so don't take the score as a measure that your cancer is worse than it was." True. True. But do you ever hear someone say something true and optimistic, and your brain dismisses them and worries anyway? That was me last night, and I was armed with a computer researching as much as I could.  This morning, I'm more myself and called my nurse with a few directives:

#1 - Set me up with a wig appointment. I am not going to try the cooling cap to save my hair. I could do it, but it would cost between $1000-2000 that insurance doesn't cover, and it's a lot of work for hair that is already quite a bit of maintenance anyway. One thing I don't want to worry about is trying to save every strand. I know it's going to be awful to lose it, but it will grow back. I would rather save on the stress and money for 5 months and do hair extensions later....maybe in time for my brother's wedding next September! I am looking forward to that! In the meantime, what about this wig option from Amazon for a cool $24.99? I think I am ready to be Wonder Woman!

#2 - Put me on the clinical trial; the research looks good. Yes, it means more chemo, but I need to do everything I can.

So, with the results and plan on the table, I am ready to get my port put in this week and begin chemo next week...day still to be determined.

With all of this going on, I still managed to have a good birthday. Sam's soccer team won their game 9-1, the boys pampered me at home, and my awesome neighbors had a birthday surprise for me: a homemade cheesecake! What they didn't know is that when I was first diagnosed and worried about eating right and doing everything I could to keep cancer at bay, my radiologist said: "You have to live your life. If you want a piece of cheesecake, eat the cheesecake." So yesterday, that's what I did. It was wonderful.

Love and light,
Jennifer

Do not let Toonces drive the car!

Have you ever stopped to watch your thoughts? What I mean by this is, have you ever consciously tried to think about your thinking? It's scary and enlightening. Lately, I have been doing about an hour of meditation per day, and one of the hardest aspects of this is how difficult it is to get my brain to stop thinking random thoughts and to become "blank" for just awhile. It's tough! In doing this activity, I am able to become more peaceful and am also able to catch my mind when it starts going off the rails or into dark territory. All kinds of random thoughts still happen though, and this brings me to Toonces, the driving cat.

If you don't remember Toonces, you probably had good taste and also probably didn't watch SNL in the early 90s. Per the vintage SNL skit, Toonces always began as a car-driving cat prodigy until he shocked his passengers by skidding over a cliff in dramatic fashion. If it sounds dumb, that's because it was. You can see the first installment here!

So, why is Toonces in my thoughts? Well, I'll offer a few theories:

1. I have been waiting on my oncotype test to tell me what kind of chemo I'll be assigned. The results were supposed to come in last Thursday, but that didn't happen, so my appointment got cancelled. In the meantime, I read over the pathology report from my surgery, looked up words I didn't know, and worried myself silly. When I do things like this, I feel like I've given my worries free reign to take the wheel and go over the cliff.  Everyone has told me NOT to read or look things up on the internet, but I am a teacher. I enjoy knowledge. Sometimes, my brain just has to know. The problem with this is that I can't know anything for sure until my oncologist sees the results and goes over them with me. Hence, I've been trying to train my mind to avoid turning into a Toonces who is just going to drive me off the cliff.

2. Meditation helps. I can see when my mind starts handing over the keys to the cliff-loving cat, and I can change it! Why give all that power to the worries in my mind that shouldn't be driving!?

3. I scheduled Sam's driving test. Enough said. Let's hope he fares better than Toonces did in the video!

Overall, folks, I hope I hear good news from the oncologist tomorrow and that the next part of this crazy ride isn't too crazy. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers!

Love and light,
Jennifer

The Sleazy Landlord

Hello and happy Friday! I don't know if any of you dream or keep track of your dreams, but I have vivid dreams all the time and like to analyze them. When cancer struck, my dreams took a dark turn. I began having recurring dreams in which a wild looking young woman with raggedy hair and clothes would come after me. No matter where I was hiding, she would find me. When I tried to fight back, she would laugh and just keep coming. Pretty scary, right? Since the surgery, I haven't had any of these dreams, which is a relief. I also haven't been too worried. In fact, surgery was such a relief that I began feeling like the worst was over and that it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Two weeks have now passed, and like the true worrier that I am, I began to feel that I was getting too complacent. In fact, yesterday I heard myself tell Hans, "I should be worrying more." Needless to say, he wasn't excited to hear this.

What caused this worry to start? Not sure, but I think it can be traced to a phone conversation I had with my care team nurse, Tara, this week. This is ironic because she actually had great news for me. I had called to ask about when to expect chemo to start because I am simultaneously nervous about this, but also want it to start soon. She told me that since the surgery results showed that I was node negative (meaning cancer hadn't spread to a countable level in the lymph nodes) and that I was ER/PR+, they had ordered an Oncotype test on my tumor to determine the kind of chemo I would get or need. This info threw me for a loop because they had told me before surgery that I would most likely have the AC-T regimen for 4 months followed by radiation. Needing to have the test meant that this could change...for the better, potentially. Tara thought the fact that I had to get the test on the tumor was great news because the test helps determine how effective chemo will be for me. Maybe I wouldn't need as much. Maybe I didn't have to worry so much. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe...

At any rate, the dream I had last night solidified my feelings of wanting to get going on the next phase of this journey. In the dream, I woke up inside my house and could hear someone rustling around in the downstairs. A woman I didn't know appeared, which kind of spooked me because it meant she had entered the house somehow. When I confronted her about this, she apologized and said she had some important papers for the homeowner that needed signing and had looked for me around the house before leaving. This sounded legit to me in the dream, so we sat at a table to look the papers over. In them, I discovered that a sleazy landlord wanted to build a huge, ugly apartment complex on the site where my house stood and needed me to sign over the land where my house was for a large amount of cash. The lady told me that the landlord was waiting outside for the papers, and when I looked out the window, he was sitting in the back seat of a beaten up limo. Sleazy, for sure. I didn't sign the papers and told her I was going to call the cops. That's when I woke up.

To me, this dream means that I am afraid that cancer is kind of waiting to take up residence in my body again. It's right outside the door in a sleazy limo waiting for an opportunity. I'll be darned if I will let it! That's why I want to get the green light for the next phase. A little chemo? A lot of  chemo? I'm probably going to worry regardless, so my feeling is, let's get this show on the road!

Have a great weekend!

el Cancertan

Hello! Have you ever wondered why people enjoy and even pay to do really difficult or dangerous things? Like...why would someone pay tuition to become an expert on snakes? Why would that guy in River Monsters go in search of scary fish that lie in wait under the water? Why would someone choose to scale a mountain like el Capitan in Yosemite if they could fall and die at any moment? For the record, I am a belt-and-suspenders kind of gal; I'll take risks, but they're calculated, so having to deal with cancer has upset my sense of equilibrium. The risks and dangers are choosing me. It's a weird feeling to say the least.

Whether I want to or not, this week I continued my climb up el Cancertan. I finally got the pathology results back from the doctor and this is what they found:

1. My right side was totally clear with no indication of any cancer.
2. My left side contained a tumor that measured 5.2cm or this long: ________________________
3. The surgeon took out 5 lymph nodes. Why 5? Before surgery they shot a colored dye into that side to see which nodes the tumor might drain to if it had a chance. During surgery, it drained to 5 nodes.
4. Three of the five nodes were clear, but two of the nodes had ITC or Isolated Tumor Cells.

*Dramatic side note - I started freaking out a bit when I heard this!

5. My surgeon said that she thought it was "fantastic" that there were only ITCs in 2 of the nodes with a tumor that size. Basically, it means that the tumor cells in there hadn't started clumping together, so they kind of don't count or affect my diagnosis. Plus, since she took everything out, I feel better about it now...more cancer free than I was.

6. It doesn't change my diagnosis - I'm still Stage IIb. I will start chemo in a few weeks and then do radiation.

7. I went to physical therapy yesterday and found out that I will always need to be concerned about possible lymph-edema in my left arm since the nodes were taken out. This means I will need to wear a compression sleeve on the airplane when I take a trip to the Caribbean next summer (Hans, that is a hint!). It also means I just have to be careful with that arm and try not to get it inflamed/aggravated so it doesn't swell.

Other than that, I am on the mend and am enjoying a visit from my sister this weekend!
Love and light,
Jennifer

The View from Up Here...

Hello folks, I've got a  short quiz for you: Does the title of this post refer to:
       A. My drug high from surgery meds.
       B. My elation from having the tumor out.
       C. The feeling that I've climbed a mountain, both physically and mentally.
       D. All of the above.
If you answered "D", you'd be correct. It should be an easy question, and I'm all about making things easier these days. Thanks to all of you who have been praying and thinking about me and my family. I know you have been waiting for news about how things went for me, so here are some short vignettes from this past week.

Poignant moment #1 - Right before surgery last Tuesday, I was alone on the surgical bed in the holding area (kind of like a plane before take-off). I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, my surgeon had softly walked up. She took my hand, and said, "Are you ready for this? My answer: "I've been ready for weeks!" We both laughed, but it was the last time I laughed that day.

Worst moment #1 - Waking up from the surgery anesthetic. It felt like I was coming up for air after being under water. There was a nurse there who wanted me to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10 right away. At first, I couldn't grasp the concept of numbers, but then I told her it was a hard 7. So so so sore. One of the really terrible things about having cancer that no one really mentions is how you wake up with a jolt in the morning remembering that it's true...you do have cancer. Waking up from the surgery was a double whammy. I remembered why I was there, and now there was painful physical proof.

Worst moment #2 - Taking the bandages off the first time. Just. Awful.

Grateful moments
* Seeing my mom, dad, and Hans in the hospital room after surgery. I was so thankful to be okay and to see their smiling faces! Here I am with mom and dad a few days after surgery. We went to Munsinger Gardens and walked around for awhile. I felt reborn.

*The first taste of hospital broth after surgery...sounds crazy, but it was wonderful.
*The nursing staff and my surgeon - I don't know how they do their jobs, but then again, people say that about me teaching high school!
*Coming home to lots of flowers and cards from everyone.
*The boys being sweet and thoughtful in their teenage boy ways, especially when Hans told Luke that I would need more time to get ready to go out, and Luke said, "Why? Mom is the same as she always was."
*Being able to enjoy nature and the people I love. The fact that I can think and communicate and be silly and move around without major problems is miraculous to me!

Lots to be thankful for!
Jennifer

P.S. My sister has set up a meal service for us if you'd like to participate. Go to Take Them a Meal and use the FIND feature with my name - Christoffersen and password: 100273 to find us. Thanks!