I'm still running on Hawaii time, so it was more difficult than ever to make my appointment with Dr. Fleener today. It's already time to schedule another PET scan as well as an echo, so I'll be doing that as soon as my treatment is complete. Dr. F asked how I've been and if there has been anything worrisome. I still have the rash, which seemed to have been worse this time around, just in time for a Hawaiian cruise and swimsuit season. I also had her look at a suspicious mole on my back, which had grown and was painful-one I hadn't noticed until Hawaii. She doesn't think it's cancerous, but is going to send me to a dermatologist, just to make sure. "You'll probably want to have it removed, anyway, because it's getting caught on your bra and is bleeding a little. Derm will say, 'Fleener sent you for this? What about this rash you have going on?'". Speaking of the rash, it still is not life-threatening, not enough to discontinue treatments, but if my scans come back normal, then she might try reducing one of the drugs by 15% to see if that helps, then upping it back to normal and reducing the other drug by 15%. If none of that works, I'll just go back to full doses of both drugs and continue with a higher dose of Benadryl and a full amount of grin-and-bear-it.
Dr. Fleener then asked, "other than the rash, is there anything else concerning?"
I just told her for some reason I've been really emotional about these scans, probably a combination of worry and a little nervousness about the unknowns of my time in this death sentence we call life. In addition to the anxiety over the results, I've also been pondering this trip to Hawaii and how it is somewhere I've wanted to visit foor over thirty years. I was finally getting to cross off a major bucket-list item, but who knows how many more? I've also been nostalgic about my family and how quickly the boys are growing and how fast things can change. Those little moments in life, as well as big milestones, are ones I want to cherish, even more now than before I had cancer, and especially more now that I've been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer. And, I don't know how many more of them I'll get to see.
Yes, also perhaps my faith has wavered a little. The realist in me keeps wanting to return, to remind myself that it's crazy to believe that I'll make it to 60, 50, or even 40, or that I could perhaps someday hold a grandchild in my arms, or even watch all of my children graduate college....or middle school...or Kindergarten. The realist in me wants me to prepare myself for the chance that I might not, and to be prepared for the scans to come back positive. My emotions have been on edge, and just talking about it or thinking about it brings on tears. So, maybe it's the looming scans. Or, as Dr. Fleener reminded me, "It could be that you've been on your period for A MONTH!!!!!!" Oh, yeah. I guess that could have something to do with it.
When the fear looms its ugly head, I have to go back to remembering that I have this moment. And the next one. And those. I remind myself to deal with life in the day-to-day, planning for the future, but reaching it one minute at a time. You can only eat an elephant one bite at a time.
One thing I am grateful for is the effects of this last chemo are wearing off. My hair is growing, my strength is returning, and I am starting to feel normal. The last visible sign of chemo, the thinning and changing of my fingernails, has almost grown out, as well. At some points in the regrowth process my nails would become infected and painful. The nails were so thin that they couldn't grow out without getting caught and torn. Somedays, nearly every finger was covered with a band-aid, in order to allow some to heal and also to shield those that were still painful from coming in contact with almost anything unprotected.
Here's what a few of them looked like in the process:
And, all the bandages!
I look to those pictures, just a few weeks ago, and see how much has changed and how much more my nails have grown, so much so that you can hardly tell there was every anything wrong.
And, just when I start to worry about my scans and the possibility of cancer returning, I'm blessed by being able to meet another breast cancer survivor. Not any survivor: a Stage 4 breast cancer survivor, going on 13 years in remission.
Maybe I will get to pick out lei for the boys to wear at their graduations, after all!
Still kicking cancer, one day at a time!
Another one done! Aloha!
