Changing Course

It has been a summer full of adventure. Some ups and some downs, but overall, a pretty good summer. Amid doctor’s appointments and pills and side effects, we managed to squeeze in a big road trip West, State Fair, Ren Faire, Girls Rock and a couple camping trips. We also started a butterfly garden! This is life with metastatic cancer. You never know when, or where, disease progression will hit. Take every opportunity to take the trip, see the friends, tackle the bucket list. Live fully, in small increments (between naps). Things may change quickly, putting simple things out of reach. 

My first sign of metastasis was a year ago, when fluid filled around my lungs. Chest tubes and Ibrance took care of that for a few months, then the cancer moved to my pelvis. A second drug, Xeloda resolved those problems and I had a few healthy months. In May, I started having new issues in my abdomen. My appetite was terrible, complete with GI issues and a swelling belly. I told my oncologist before our big trip out west, but CT and pet scans showed stability, and she said “take the trip”. I knew in my gut, though, that something wasn’t right. I’m tuned into my body, now more than ever, and I always know something is wrong before any tests confirm it.

July 5th, we loaded up the camping gear, and aimed west with a loose plan. We saw the Bonneville salt flats, and ran fast over the crunchy surface. We went to Crater Lake, Andy’s favorite National Park, and dipped in the unworldly, pristine water. We made it all the way to the pacific coast, where the girls floated in salt water for the first time. We walked among the giant redwoods. Heading back east over twisty mountain passes, we stopped at “Borden State Park” to get to know Adventure Trio and share travel stories around the campfire. Kaylei was the bold one who jumped off the waterfall. We saw the Tetons. We lingered in Custer, SD, where Michelle’s hospitality at Chalet Motel was a warm and welcoming step back in time. We explored caves, roamed with bison and saw the badlands again. We covered a lot of miles. 5,200 miles, to be exact (no breakdowns-well, for the truck, anyway. The kids may have had a few…)

Back home, we had a few days to re-pack for a weekend of camping and the triathlon where a new batch of brave cancer surviving women (Hey Team Phoenix!) became triathletes. We were there to cheer and help take pictures for the team. That was how our July went. I was making the most of everything, even though I was feeling worse and worse. By the Sunday morning of the triathlon (July 28th), I was ready to go to the hospital. Our 5:00 alarm wasn’t going to get me moving. I sent everyone ahead, took some pain pills and caught up in time to watch the race start. Packing up camp was exhausting, but with help from the family, I made it home to unpack. I re-packed  again. This time, it was my hospital bag, an all too familiar process now. 

After several hours of tests, and waiting (mostly waiting) in the ER, I was told I could either leave and let my oncologist order a paracentesis (a procedure to drain fluid from around the abdomen), or be admitted and do the procedure the next day. I couldn’t have waited much longer, so I was admitted for a long, uncomfortable night in the hospital.  I did have a few lovely visitors brighten my mood.

img_5497

As the fluid started draining, I could feel instant relief. I could breath better, the nausea stopped, the pain in my spine faded, and I started to feel better. 4.2 Liters of fluid was taken. I’m not sure where I kept it, but I know why I felt like I swallowed a bowling ball and looked pregnant. It was nearly twelve pounds of fluid.

In the hospital, I stopped the oral chemo (it didn’t work…) I would meet with my oncologist to determine my third line of treatment. She went to tumor board with my case and settled on a hormone blocker with another oral chemo. In the meantime, to my shock, the fluid started building with days. Before I could start the new treatment, I was back at the hospital for another paracentesis. This time they drained 2.5 liters (just 2 weeks after the first procedure). 

Friday, Aug 16, I had a few more tests and a consult with the oncologist for the new meds. She entered the room with news that we were changing course. The pills she wanted me on would not work fast enough given that the fluid had came back so fast.  We needed a more aggressive treatment. She told me it was time for IV chemo again.  This was a day I was hoping would be years in the future. IV chemo is usually reserved for late in the game when more aggressive action is necessary. My oncologist assured me that I could go back to try the pill combo once I stabilize. We also discussed Foundation One testing, which could be helpful in tailoring treatments to my needs.

I left the appointment with a lot on my mind – side effects, hair loss, being tethered to weekly appointments. I packed the truck up and headed to the family lake house to relax and prepare for this next step. I missed lake time last year for the first time in my life, in exchange for 6 nights in the hospital with chest tubes, so I wasn’t missing lake time this year! It’s been nice taking a minute, but I’m ready to face the next treatment in hopes that it resolves the fluid and pain. 

img_5600

Thursday, I have a small surgery to place a port in my chest, so the chemo drugs don’t damage my veins. Then Friday, I have my first of the weekly Taxol infusions. Weekly treatments limit my wanderlust, so I’m happy we got another long trip in before starting this regime.  Let’s hope this one gives me (a lot) more time. 

Travel has taught me a lot about serendipity and changing course when needed. I trust that my doctor is guiding me in the right direction to get back on the road I want to follow. 

img_5915

Hair Raising

Literally.  Watching hair grow.

Because I had too much time on my hands last year, and not much energy, I started taking daily selfies.  Watch time fly and hair grow as I document the rapid changes that took place over the past year of cancer treatment.  When I first knew I would lose my hair, I let my kids cut it short and we donated the ponytails.  Then we added some color.  Soon the razor came out, and it was gone.  Next, a fabulous Henna Tattoo.  And, finally, one day in July, chemotherapy was over, and the long slow process of raising hair began.

Healing Henna

Healing Henna

I can’t go so far as to say that I am glad that cancer came into my life. What I can say is that I am fully embracing the healing journey that this life experience has plunged me into. I can also honestly say that some of my happiest moments have come to me as a result of this experience. I’ve made deeper connections with people with whom I may never have crossed paths with otherwise and they’ve brought so much to my life.

I face round five of six chemotherapy infusions today. Previous rounds have involved a pre-chemo margarita with friends to prepare myself for the rough patch that sometimes follows an infusion. However, this time, I decided to make use of the fresh mint proliferating in my garden to make mojitos with my friends. This was also my way of thanking those who helped me whip my backyard gardens into shape (see Victory Garden). I also invited a friend from the neighborhood to join us and do henna tattoos for everyone, with the finale being a full henna tattoo on my bald head.

We made our mojitos and enjoyed a cookout while we watched in amazement at Anita’s talent as she created her beautiful art on our bodies. Her true talent shines through in the flawlessly smooth strokes she uses to create her art. She started with the kids and, somehow, through her brief conversations with them, and nothing more than the images that she envisions in her mind for them, she created unique designs which seemed to perfectly suit each kid’s personality. I am absolutely amazed at this talent!  See more of her work at Hands of Henna by Anita.

Towards the end of the evening, as all the other tattoos were completed, Anita had a wonderful suggestion. It was nearing 10:30 (on a school night), and she mentioned that she did not want to rush my tattoo, but rather go to the beach the following day to work on mine. I love the beach, so this sounded perfect to me.

It couldn’t have worked out better and the experience of tattooing my head on the beach will always have a special place in my heart. We chose my favorite time of the day to go to the beach. It was a beautiful, clear, sunny morning and the sun was sparklingly beautifully off the water. We found a great spot in the warm sand to spread our blanket, close to the water so we could hear the soothing sound of the waves gently lapping on the shore. We set up Pandora to play world music, and I settled in comfortably on the blanket, feeling the sun on my skin, and perfectly relaxed in a kind of meditation. The feel of the henna going onto my head, with the backdrop of the music and the waves and the feel of the sun, was incredibly soothing, reminiscent of a scalp massage.

We spent the next two hours in relaxed conversation. I’ve know Anita for years, but only casually from living in the same neighborhood, and having some mutual friends. This was the first time we really spent a solid chunk of time getting to know one another. It was a really special moment. We spoke of our love of travel and passion for living fully. We also shared our experiences with life changing events. I attempted to express how cancer has changed my perspective on how one goes through life, and Anita shared her experiences recovering from a life changing accident. We talked about how to raise our daughters to be strong, independent people, and how to involve them in travel more to expose them to the variety of cultures on this planet. It was a really wonderful experience, and all the while, Anita created a beautiful work of art on my head. It’s one of those moments that I never would have enjoyed had cancer not entered my life, so for that I am grateful.

After finishing the tattoo, it would be the first time venturing out of the house without the concealing protection of a hat, though the tattoo was, in a sense, a beautiful head covering which allowed me to walk around with a feeling of confidence. I received a lot of compliments when I picked the kids up from school. The first question people asked was if it hurt until I explained that it was a temporary henna tattoo. My kids’ classmates were the best, because kids have that uninhibited way of wanting to see new things and learn. Some thought it was a wild haircut, others wondered what it was, but they all thought it was really cool. Adults asked questions too, but with a little more reservation.

All in all, it was a perfect way to get myself mentally prepared for another round of chemo. I need to make sure the positives of this experience outweigh the negatives. There are definitely moments when I just want to have all of this behind me. But since I can’t control that, the least I can do while I endure the treatments is to create wonderful memories that I will cherish as I put this experience behind me. So far, so good.

I am Not my Hair

I am Not my Hair

When I first told my kids that I had cancer, one of the first questions they asked me was if I was going to lose my hair. I think, for my oldest daughter especially, this was one of the most devastating effects. I’ve never been terribly vain, and was not too worried about losing my hair, because I knew it would be temporary. However, I am raising kids who are into hair, make-up, fashion and all things girly, and they were worried about me losing my hair. I’ve heard it over and over again, it helps to shave the hair off before the chemo makes it fall out in an effort to have some control over it. If that is the case, then I figured that I could involve the kids in the hair cutting to let them control the part of this that concerns them.

Phase one was about 2 weeks ago, shortly after the first round of chemo. I made a ponytail close to my scalp and divided it in half. I let each of my daughters make a braid and cut it off. That was it. Two snips. We never evened it up or anything, and it was the best haircut I’ve had in a long time! I told the girls about Locks for Love. They thought it was cool that another kid could get a wig made out of my hair, so we shipped my two braids off to Locks for Love. After that, I let the kids dye my remaining hair purple, electric blue and crimson red. It was a fun look.

People kept asking me if I really wanted to cut my hair before I knew it would fall out. My doctors and nurses were pretty confident that it would, since it was a big side effect of all three of the drugs I was getting, so I felt it was a safe bet. My physical therapist was the one who was spot on. She explained that around day 17, I would start seeing more hair shedding on my brush and in the shower. Then a few days later, it would start coming out in clumps. She explained that at that point, people usually shave it off. Sure enough, it started on day 16, as I ran my hands through my hair in the shower, hair was getting everywhere. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore, because, if I pulled on my hair, big clumps were coming out, and that part of it did freak me out a bit. So, last night, I put the electric razor in the kids hands again and let them shave the rest off. Right now, I match my hairless cat, Gizmo, with peach fuzz covering my head. It’s still actively falling out and driving me nuts, like when you just get a haircut and the hairs get in your shirt and itch like mad. Tonight, it all goes.