Enhertu #2

 Surprisingly, most  of the scary black label side effects from this new chemo stayed away after the first round.  It took a few days for my bowels to better even out. This all accumulated in one terrible Poop-aggedon experience, that took over and hour to clean up in my bathroom. Every surface of my bathroom to be sanitized.  I am learning from those down days.  I must be less aloof in choosing one-piece pajamas!.  Thankfully, I only vomited twice and has my same itchy rash/allergic-ish reaction, which was nothing to worry over.  My pain decreased as the surgical area healed completely, and I said prayers of thanksgiving.  

Today, I did not get to meet with Dr. Cole, but with her nurse practitioner, but I know she still has me in mind.  [It's depressing that Coolio is so busy with the high number of cancer patients that she can only see each every other appointment.]  The week prior, when I reached out about my post-surgery pain and requested extra of the good pills, Dr. Cole  tried to give me some Morphine.  While I was trying to recover from all that digging around inside me, I self-medicated with  a higher dose of my hydrocodone. I was worried that I would run run out before my pain returned to normal.  She still wanted me to try the morphine.  And I did.  But, it did nothing to control my regular, daily lower back pain, and left me with both the regularly-scheduled program plus the new pain, post-surgery.  I did explain this at my appointment, and Cole approved my request that day.  [It took an extra day for the dang insurance to get on board and send more drugs my way.]

My liver functions are almost back to normal, along with my other lab results.  Not surprisingly, blood counts are lower than they should be, I was approved for another round of chemo, though, 

I don't understand why the whole process always seems to be slowed by the pharmacy.  My oncologist has already given the clear on me receiving this terrible chemotherapy.  Yes, my numbers are lower than normal.  You're not uncharge, though, pharmacy.  Release my scary cancer-fighting poison and let me has the regularly scheduled, 30-minute infusion!  Quit making me add hours to the.time I have to be at the cancer clinic and not resting in my own home!  

Maybe someday all the pieces will get put together and I'll understand the big picture of it all.  Today, was not that day, but at least I had a quicker infusion #2 than what happened with the first dose of Enhertu.  

Plus, I was able to be Ginger for a few hours, [or Ariel,] as one of my nurses labeled me.  And, I got to try out a new pair of pink shoes that my OG pink warriors had picked out.  

Love + Days After New Chemo

 I am so blessed!

An outpouring of love and emotions has hit me like a perfect storm today.  

The third day after chemo, in the past, has often been the day I feel a little low.  On the actual day, I'm pumped up with pre-meds [steroids, anti-allergy, anti-nausea, etc.] Plus, I already have it in mind to take it easy that day and rest.  The resting mode comes in the day after chemo, especially with a new chemo, to help make sure I recover well.  Lots of fluids, small meals, resting, long soak in the tub, easy meals [especially when Stephen cooks them.]. All these actions hopefully help keep away nausea and diarrhea and combat the fatigue.  That third day is a toss-up.  Sometimes in the past, that is the day when all the drugs fall off and so do I.  Or, I take things too lightly, or do too many things, and end up back in bed.  

This third day was beyond incredible!  

Woke up to a happy egging on the front door from youth out of a church activity.

My OG Pink Warriors got together to donate money for freezer meals.  The one who is now local coordinated to make a bunch of freezer meals and brought them over.  Right before, my great cleaning ladies came for a weekly session. They still give me a cancer discount, for which I am so grateful.  About 15 minutes later, my youngest sister pulls upon the driveway, having flown from Utah to help me this week, having been delivered to my home from the airport by one of my current Pink Warriors.  

All of these miracles touched my heart and brought hope and joy.  I love witnessing unexpected love and Christlike service from people who want to make a difference for good.  

A mom from gymnastics had already planned to deliver a meal that night.  She and her son walked in, carrying two HUGE baskets of goodies: one overflowing with snacks + one overfilled with gift cards purchased with donations that began with just my son's team and spread through the entire gym.  

Usually, there will be a handful of people who reach out and check in during the week of people.  I am fine reflecting and meditating and resting and pondering, but I do love being able to interact.  Today, alone, there was such an obvious manifestation and representation of love and food prayers that it was undeniably gather by placing God's love directly through hearts all over Texas on the same day, in the same place, in our little world.  

I know I am known.  I know my family is loved.  I know there are still good people--great people in the world.  

Real Chemo Day! Enhertu #1 + Zometa

This chemo day started off a little crazy.  My appointment time was 12:15.  My Aunt Terri S. was able to take me today, and we left with plenty of time.  However, the main exit was blocked, and traffic was TERRIBLE!!!!  Plus, I didn't even know how to get to the clinic a different way.  Thank goodness for a phone and maps!!!

We were only 30 minutes late and not the first late patient with the same problem.  I think this was another benefit of getting to know the people on my team and being kind to them.  They let me slip through, even when showing up so NOT on time!  

Soon, I was called back to the labs room.  I was just praying that my numbers would be good enough to have the treatment.   

Dr. Cole saw me going into the exam room and waved and callout out, "YOU'RE BACK!!!"  I love these people who care so much about my life.  

My liver enzymes were all "almost normal."  Most importantly, everything looked good for me to go ahead with chemotherapy today.  

To add to the already long day, the first dose of a new chemo must be delivered at a slower speed than normal, to check for possible allergic reactions.  Also, added pre-meds help me to tolerate the drug better.  [steroid + anti-nausea]. 

Also to add more time, today just HAPPENED to be my time for Zometa, my regularly scheduled bone infusion.  

Here's to another new chemo and BTHOC! 

New Chemo Day!?

W After a small emotional roller coaster and big decision to keep fighting with another new chemo, I was actually excited/nervous for the big day to roll around.  I was not expecting to have the day go the way it did.  

As a side note, we walked into the waiting room and noticed that it was practically full.  In this era of social distancing, there are fewer chairs to begin with, and fewer still of seats for two people.  All the doubles were filled and only two singles were available.  I was annoyed that a younger man in flip flops and tie-dye was taking up a double seat the would have been perfect for Lori and I and would've left one seat open for another patient.   I gave him a subtle stink eye to be a gentleman and scoot, but he did not.  Then, the tv was on AS WELL AS an older man, a veteran, was listening to his pod cast at a loud volume for the whole room to hear.  My brain did not need all that extra, crazy noise.  I wish I had some headphones to donate to this human who obviously fought for our freedom in the past.  Then, another older man entered the scene.  Lori stood and gave up her single for this man, who refused to take it away from a woman.  She finally left to the hall, and he eventually sat down.  (Again, TYE-DYE DUDE?  HELLO?????). Thankfully, I was soon called back.  

Then, we were taken to the room to wait for results and the go-ahead from Dr. Cole.  The waiting time seemed a little longer than expected.  Finally, Dr. Cole walked in.  

"I have some bad news," she stated, before take away the hand that was propping the door open.  I expected something like, "I'm sorry to tell you that your lab numbers are good enough that you'll have to start chemotherapy today."   Instead, something much worse.

"You are in liver failure.  We need to get you to the hospital now.  If we don't get this situation under control, it's GAME OVER." 

Apparently, the big boy tumor was blocking my bile duct and causing my bilirubin numbers to start going too high.  The plan was to have an ERCP, which would send a scope down to find the blockage and put a stent in to open the path to open the bile duct and allow it to clear.  (I couldn't help thinking about the current situation in the Suez Canal, blocked by a barge.)

So, no chemo and no side effects to worry about today.  

In the car, hurry home to pack a quick bag and head downtown to the hospital.  

On the way to the hospital

Finally have a room!

Nope.  You still can't eat.  

It's always something.  

At least I have a nice view. 

Collecting bracelets.

Unfortunately, due to Covid + Snowvid backup, there was not a room for me when we arrived.  The person at the admissions desk was no help and felt very cold about my situation.  He was rude. Thankfully, I was able to find a small couch in a waiting room.  I actually slept a bit until a woman came in to the empty side of my waiting room, talking on her phone with the caller on high volume speaker.  What IS it with people these days?  I must be getting old.  

Woke up, used restroom, which was a MESS. I stepped in dirty bathroom water and found the ONE stall that wasn't backed up.  Returned to Admissions to find a new, much more kind human at the desk, who actually cared about my story and helped get paperwork done and everything set up for transport to room 1161! 

 

Finally, 11 1/2 hours after breakfast, I was able to have my first food and water again!  However, I was NPO after midnight, so woke up at 2:00 am, only to see they had taken away my water.  Not until much later that day did GI decide to not do surgery until Thursday, which was 48 hours after Eliquis [blood thinner].  I FINALLY got to order dinner around 5:00 pm, trying to sleep away the hunger pains.  NPO after midnight, yet again.  Some doctor [can't remember which area] told me that Wednesday would kind of be a waste of a day, but if they tried to schedule me for outpatient, it would take 2-3 weeks for me to get the surgery I needed!

Wednesday, the waiting day.  Hungry and no visitors and lots of HGTV.

Thursday was THE day!!!!!!  Met with GI team and dietician, and physical therapy and oncology.   Got to eat ice chips all day until transport came to roll me down to the pre-op area.  Stephen was able to be there and help me ask questions of the GI surgeon, who explained the procedure beautifully, even pulling up images of the stent she uses.  She was concerned that MRI showed a very tight space in which to insert it into the bile duct, but she was confident.  Anesthesia came in and wasn't too happy when Stephen asked who ACTUALLY does the case.....CRNAs or docs or AAs?

Had to change to yellow gown/socks.

After all the questions seemed to be answered, I was rolled back to the OR and put under for a not-long-enough induced sleep and woken up to a good amount of pain in the region.  I did get to eat and recover a bit and talk with Stephen and pray that I would get to go home the next day.  

And, that prayer was granted!  Friday was my release day, and it was SO nice to be at home with my peeps and in my own bed.  

The pain is trying to get me down, but I can take pain meds and make it through.  I need to rest and heal for chemo on Tuesday.  And save enough energy to enjoy Easter traditions with my family and focus on Christ's sacrifice for me and all humankind to be saved from the pain of trials and heartbreak or sin and anguish.  

I know He lives and has sent many miracles my way.  I know He knows me individually and rose on the 3rd day that I might follow in His footsteps through His grace and mercy.  And, for that, I cannot yet give up on HOPE and FAITH in the fight.  Keep on walking the path.