First cycle almost complete

My treatment on Friday went well. It was scheduled for early afternoon rather than early morning and it worked out fine. I did not see Dr. K until she came in to see me during treatment. Rather, I was checked in at 11:15, had a chemo nurse start the IV and draw blood through my port, and I was called in to begin my treatment at 12:50. By the time everything was checked and rechecked and the pump started, it was 1:15. We were on our way home by 3:30 and I felt well enough to make a pitstop at The Cheesecake Factory for an early dinner. Of course, by the time I finished (with plenty of leftovers), I was ready to fall asleep! I was in bed by 6:45 p.m. and didn't get up until 7 a.m. That unfortunately included a two hour period at 2 a.m. when I couldn't sleep, but otherwise I awoke feeling good. I suffered from nausea and slight fatigue throughout the weekend, but I find I can control the nausea by eating a small portion of food every few hours.

I was thinking about Trunk Bay at 2 p.m. and I know Kate was, too. I could almost hear the waves and feel the sun on my face. What a treat that would have been, with temperatures on Friday barely reaching the mid-30s!

This is the final week of my first cycle, and I hope to get some things done around the house this weekend. The past two weekends I've been a complete slug, and I find it frustrating that there are many things I want to get done but don't want to wear myself out. Ed has been very helpful -- cleaning, cooking, shopping in addition to driving in and out of the city for my appointments -- but he has to sleep sometime! I think we'll be tackling the scrubbing of bathrooms, dusting and vacuuming this weekend. Sounds like fun, huh??

Thanks, as always, for your e-mails and positive thoughts. They really brighten my days.

Visiting Trunk Bay tomorrow

One of our newest and already dear friends, Kate, was kind enough to send me an image for my chemo treatment tomorrow. During our cruise in November/December, we visited Trunk Bay on St. John with Kate and her husband, Steve, where we spent a splendid day relaxing on the sand, braving the cool-ish crystal clear water, and -- at least for Ed, Kate and me -- chowing down on some food, including some very tasty french fries. After lunch, Steve and I went snorkeling along an underwater trail, and I captured some terrific fish photos using my new underwater camera housing. At the end of the day, we visited a bar near the ferry dock and enjoyed a few delicious drinks while we chatted and got to know each other better. It was a wonderful day, and I'm so looking forward to revisiting it tomorrow as I sit in that chair in the chemo suite for 90 minutes. Kate's going to be joining me in a "meeting of the minds" around 2 p.m. Feel free to "join" us by revisiting a beautiful, relaxing day with friends.

A brief clarification...

Apparently my comment yesterday about not being able to plan 18 months ahead was taken as an attitude of gloom and doom (thank you, Ward). I meant that I can no longer plan vacations and other activities because I don't know how I'll feel that far in the future or what treatments I may be getting. It was not my intention to sound as if I have thrown in the towel. For example, I would love to take one of those Artic cruises to see fjords, glaciers, polar bears and other flora and fauna, but I wouldn't be able to go until summer of 2009 because of other plans and I'm not sure I'll be physically up to making that type of trip by then. So if I were to go, it would be more of a last minute (by my standards) decision.

If those of you who live farther away than driving distance think that I'm not going to be taking you up on your invitations to visit, don't start using that spare bedroom for storage just yet!! I may not have purchased the airfare and packed my bags, but I'll be there.

Hope this makes my thoughts on the subject a little clearer. :)

Four days later...

I'm back in the office, having had a holiday yesterday, and I was very glad for the extended weekend. I felt great Saturday morning, but in the late afternoon I started to feel as if I had a sunburn on the back of my neck, my shoulders and my back. Thankfully, that sensitivity was gone by Sunday morning, but I awoke with lots of pressure behind my left eye. It felt like sinus pressure but a Tylenol allergy pill did nothing to relieve it. It actually hurt to move my eyeball. By yesterday morning it felt much better, although even today I can feel the residual soreness. Other than feeling tired yesterday, I was almost back to my usual self. I finally got the Christmas ornaments packed away (no laughing at me) and we went out for Mexican food at lunch and then made a short visit to see my mom. I feel like I could use a nap, but that's not unusual for me. I'm trying to eat small portions of food more often as the cancer nutrition books advise, and I'm drinking lots of water.

I made my CT scan appointment for March 12, and with any luck there will be a tech there who can access my port for the IV contrast. I spent too much time worrying about that over the weekend, so I obviously need to work on my anxiety levels and learn to stop obsessing over things. I won't really know until I get there if they will use my port or not, so I need to put that to bed until the 12th. I'm not taking any bets on my success with that, though!

I find that I'm accepting of my situation as long as I have something to do: an article to read, research to do, side effects to check on, appointments to make, bills to review, etc. Having some down time when I wasn't feeling 100% on Sunday afternoon left me thinking about all that's happening and how scary it is. I know logically that no one knows what life will bring or how long it will last, but I was always one of those people who spent absolutely no time thinking about illness, disease or death -- mainly because those ideas scared the crap out of me. Now I'm faced with stage IV metastatic lung disease and I wonder, how did this happen? What's going to happen now? How much time do I have left and how much of that time can I actually enjoy? I suppose the long-term planner and organizer in me is going to have to turn the reins over to someone who has a shorter term view. I think the days of planning vacations 18 months in advance may be gone, but hey, good deals can be found at the last moment, can't they? An attitude readjustment in many areas is going to be necessary to face this latest challenge and it's not going to be easy, as I am definitely not a person who enjoys change.

If you have any advice or words of wisdom, feel free to pass them on. Thank you, my friends, for your strength, your compassion, your laughter, your generosity, and your insights. I don't know what I'd do without you.

All went well

Completed my first chemo treatment yesterday and despite it being a long day, it went without a hitch. Kelly, Dr. Keohan's former nurse, my new friend and expert consultant, and soon-to-be Michigan resident, told me to insist on having a chemo nurse draw my blood sample through my port rather than having the lab techs draw it from a vein. (We all know how I feel about needles. Yikes!) After dealing with a tech who had a bit of an attitude, I was able to have the nurse put in a line and draw the blood without any problems. Other than a little pressure as she put the needle in, I didn't feel a thing. Many thanks to Kelly for the numbing cream and the excellent advice. I love my port!!!

Other than being a little tired from the stress of the day (we arrived at MSKCC at 8 a.m. and didn't leave until 12:30), I feel fine. Felt a little nauseated yesterday afternoon but that disappeared after a bowl of soup and some toast. Today I feel good although I'm tired since I didn't sleep well last night. I had a muscle cramp in my left leg unrelated to the treatment. Unfortunately, I can no longer take the ibuprofen that always relieved any muscle aches I suffered from, and Tylenol didn't do anything to relieve it. I'll be hitting the sack early tonight.

My next treatment is scheduled for Friday, Jan. 25. Then I have a week off and then we will repeat the cycle two more times. My next chest/abdomen/pelvis scan is scheduled for the week of March 10 and I will see Dr. Keohan on March 18 to review the scan results and develop a plan. Let's all keep our fingers crossed that the medication is already at work shrinking those mets!

...and that is why I had a port implanted

Yesterday's experience was both better and worse than I anticipated. I was told to arrive at 9 a.m., which was wonderful since my procedures usually are scheduled mid-afternoon (not pleasant when you can't eat after midnight). After the requisite tests and questionnaires were completed, we headed down to the surgical area to get my IV started. There I met two lovely nurses, to whom I explained that I have small veins that are difficult to get a needle into, but that I was thinking positively because I was able to drink water up until an hour before the procedure (liquids help keep your veins puffy). Violetta decided to try for a large vein near my elbow on my left arm and struggled for about 90 seconds trying to pierce the vein. Meanwhile, I was breaking out into a cold sweat, turning pale and trying not to hyperventilate. She finally conceded defeat and apologized for another minute. Then Amy decided to give it a go in the back of my left hand. After reassuring her that I didn't need a stretcher, she spent several minutes prepping the vein and then bravely went in, only to have it collapse on her. She, too, spent some time apologizing before tracking down a nurse practitioner to make a third attempt. I don't know her name, but she considered the task a challenge and went to work on my right arm searching for vein. She finally found two potential sources in the back of my hand and boldly stuck her IV needle into one of them. Despite the fact that the needle almost got pushed back out, she managed to hold on long enough to get it taped down and ensure that it was a good stick. Now, in case you were wondering, you know why I decided on this elective procedure. :)

The implantation itself went without incident and after a short recovery and a tuna fish sandwich, we headed home. I am now a high-tech cancer patient -- I have a Powerport, the top of the line mediport through which not only chemo can be administered and blood can be drawn, but contrast material, which is administered during CT scans, can also be pushed through the port. No more IVs!!!!

I am feeling a little stiff and tender today, although yesterday afternoon I felt like I had been hit in the right side of my chest with a bat. I didn't sleep well last night because I woke up every time I moved, so I took today off to rest and recover. I hope to be back to normal by Sunday, when I get to remove the dressings.

Chemo starts on Friday morning after I meet with Dr. Keohan and have blood work done to check my white and red blood cell counts. I will let you know sometime next weekend how that went. In the meantime, thanks for all your support and good wishes!