Scan Results

 As figured, I was unable to find my Power Port card to prove its existence in my chest.  However, I was able to call the office of the surgeon who placed it there, sign a medical release, and receive and copy of the surgery report.  Hopefully, that will be good enough.  

Also, I was reminded that NINE YEARS AGO this week, I had my very first chemo.  Still fighting.  

My appointment with Dr. Tafur to discuss scan results was scheduled for 11:30, but I arrived early.  This was a busy day in the waiting room, as he only travels here once a week, normally on Thursdays, but this week a day early.  

I finally made it back to a room and met with a nurse from the clinic.  She asked all the typical health questions and took vitals.  

Then, another nurse from Dr. Tafur's office asked a million questions, which I thought I had answered in Lubbock on my first appointment.  Apparently, they didn't have a complete list of ALL of my surgeries and cancer history.  

After that long list of mind stretching history on dates and drugs, the nurse then had me strip down on top and change to the shortest gown I've ever been given.  It felt like a belly shirt!   

She examined me and checked that I was still breathing and that I truly didn't have breast prosthetics, as I had already answered.  

They're real tissue, and they're SPECTACULAR!

It's an hour later, at this point, and I haven't seen the doctor yet.  

Finally, he walks in with the news.

CT shows no new growths in my thoracic and abdominal areas. 

However, there are two new areas of growth in my brain:

A small 3mm lesion in the left occipital lobe.

A subtle 7mm linear area at the lateral left cerebellar hemisphere.  

Luckily, the radiation oncologist, Dr. Sun, happened to be in the building today.  He would meet with me shortly.  

I felt a bit relieved that he only discussed the "very small" 2mm lesion, and explained that he could do gamma knife radiation in Lubbock, "most likely next week."  He also mentioned that he wanted to get records from Dr. Wardak and a new MRI, hopefully the same day as the surgery, but if not, the day before.

I wondered why he needed another MRI, as I had just had one two days before.  (At what point will all these radioactive contrast drugs actual CAUSE more cancer?)

He explained that he wanted to be certain that he was gamma knifing the correct spot.  

I joked and asked, "You mean that you need a Texas-grade MRI machine?"

He let out a tiny chuckle and gave me a simple and straight-faced, "you're funny."

Funny or not, I'll be headed to Lubbock, hopefully next week, for my latest shots to my brain.  

I'm very grateful that Dr. Tafur ordered new scans so that we could discover this lesion early and work on kicking it out of my head.  

I finally got home and was able to eat at 2:00, as snow was falling and sticking on the ground.  

New Mexico Baseline Scans

 Dr. Tafur, my new oncologist, wanted to have updated CT and MRI results at the start of my treatment with him.  Thankfully, I did not have to drive to Lubbock, but could have the tests done in Lovington.  However, unbeknownst to me, I apparently needed to show my "Power Port Card"?!? Never ever in Texas was I asked for such ID.  

"Do you want to run home and get it?" I couldn't even think of where in the actual world this stupid piece of cardboard would be.  In a box? In a recycling center in Frisco? There was no telling.  They would accept my word that I have had all of my Covid vaccines + booster, but they couldn't take my word that the device in my chest was indeed an official Power Port, capable of withstanding the liquids required for scans.  No evidence from my cancer journal or cancer blog would suffice.  

The only solution would be an IV.  

Not only was I frustrated with the whole situation, but I was not looking forward to being a pin cushion for needles.  My veins look good, but they roll or blow.  99% of the time.  The ONLY 2 people who have been able to properly access one of my veins, without pain and on the first time,  have been my husband and his brother, both CRNAs.  Even before cancer, this has been a problem.  Prior to every surgery, every procedure, and every birth, I've been the victim of painful IVs.  Apparently, I have a bit of PTSD in this area, and reacted like this: 

The head nurse, Audra, was called in and listened to my literal sob story.  She assured me that she was very good at this.  I explained again.  She raised with numbing meds and the use of an ultrasound for the process.    

She was very good and got it the first time.  

I was still unhappy with the whole thing.

Let's get going on these scans.  

I'm upset and hungry.  

When you're hangry, what's better than a *delicious* shake?

The don't do vanilla here, though.  

Bring on the flavored water drink, which tasted like watered-down cough medicine.

Not my favorite.  

CT scans went fine. 

 I was still teary when I checked-in, and the kind woman at the desk came out to bring me some Kleenex and ask if there was anything else she could do for me.    

After that was finished, the tech walked me down to the next scan: MRI.  I haven't done this test in quite some time, as my UT clinic didn't have one of these machines.  

MRI tech, Bud, was so kind.  He chatted and asked what had gone wrong for the day and assured me this would go quickly and then I could finally get some lunch.   

Some days are better than others.  

Today was a rough one.

However, there were so many amazing people who gave of themselves to help with my frustrations.

This place still gets a stamp of approval.  

Time to keep on going.    

Enhertu #13 + Zometa + Seeing the New Clinic

I came to chemo by myself today.  

This hasn't happened in a LONG time, but it was just fine.

(Pay no attention to the potentially confused/negative look on my masked face, as it has more to do with trying not to have the squinty eyes from the sunlight streaming in through the waiting room windows!) 

I met my new nurse team and got the lay of the land.   All was wonderful.  There's all kinds of amenities and freebies to explore.  Free lunches, free snacks and drinks, my own personal tv, a community puzzle/game table, and a whole bunch of swag for the first time.  I almost felt like a celebrity.

My labs were just fine, and I was ready to go.  

The only downside so far is that I no longer have my own, private space.  It seems as if I got a little too used to a private treatment room for the last few years.  This clinic is back to the large group setting, an open patient situation, where all patients are in a community setting.  (Mostly, it's no big deal.  It's just difficult when Abuelita has her phone of highest volume, speaker calls for her entire treatment time and  the whole place can hear niteo (the grandson) screaming and crying at the top of his lungs.  

Soon after that, I remembered that I had a spare set of ear pods in my purse, and all that loud familia convo was blocked out of my nearly perfect day.  

Then, the bonus for the day was getting to go back to the private shopping space for survivors.  I got to update my head gear with the newest on turbans and turban decor, as well as my choice in a room full of new heads.  Here's the first day's choice, and there is promise of more.  

I think I'm gonna like it here!  

I plan to get these foot prints into the desert and start continue walking this cancer journey with hope and faith.  The first question I get asked after someone learns that my family and I just moved here from the Dallas area is, "Why would you come here?" as if here is the worst thing that anyone could possibly endure.  I am loving the smaller, simpler life. There are plenty of ups and downs, but that happens anywhere you go.  Life is never perfect.  Truthfully, I don't know all of the reasons why we felt we needed to move here, but I know it was an answer to prayers. We have moved more than the average family, but we have learned much from each of these adventures.  The best advice and example from a dear friend was to "Bloom where you're planted."  No matter where you are or what your circumstances may be, put on a smile and start growing where you are.  Discover the area, get involved, be nice, and look on the bright side.  It will be amazing how life can thrive.

P.S. Any ideas on names for this gal? 
 

My Heart

In this new place, we are continuing to get a starting place for all of my stats.  Today was an ECHO for the heart.  Cardiomyopathy has been looming since the very beginning, due to the types of drugs that fight my Her2+ cancer, so this test is nothing new.  I had a lovely tech who was all about asking questions and hearing more about my story and reminded me why I share.  I love having reminders of the blessings and to find the everyday miracles.   

I haven't received results yet, but I'm not too worried.  My heart is not in the highest, tip-top shape, but it's still ticking just fine and dandy for someone fighting cancer for so long.  

I forgot to get the shoe shot, but I'm still ready to keep on tickin'! 

 

New State, New Cancer Place

I am so glad to have found a place that can work to further my treatment.  Dr. Cole was able to refer me to a hospital setting in Lubbock, TX, that is connected to a smaller hospital closer to home.  It worked out perfectly that Stephen was off the week of my first appointment with Dr. Tafur, my new oncologist.  It's crazy that this is my first male cancer doctor!  He has a lot of greatness and girl power to live up to, but he seems to be up for the challenge.  

There was quite a bit of waiting, which wasn't Stephen's favorite thing, but I'm so glad he was able to be here for the initial appointment.  What a help it was to have his medical brain to help me recall my long list of procedures and surgeries and medications over the years.  It's getting more and more difficult to keep everything in line by the date and in the right place on my overall cancer timeline.  

I met some great nurses and staff, and got all my vitals for the start of this new point in my journey.  Things seem fine and promising.  Dr. Tafur is sending my blood for further genetic testing, as there have been new discoveries since I was first diagnosed.  I also discovered that I have officially lost height on this path.  I started at 5'6".  I am now 5'3.5".  However, to make myself feel better, I will rely on my math teaching background and choose to round up.  I've cut 2" off my height, which is the wrong direction and makes me even more aware of the miracles that have been blessed down during this journey.  I am grateful  for life and for the ability that I still have to be active and walk uprightly.   It's miraculous that I am still able to be aware of and thrive, especially with my health history.  How blessed I am for the care and concern for the oncologists that have pushed this onward.  I am thankful to still have more people leading me on.  

I continue to move forward---one step at a time--to fight this and become the woman I am to be.   

 

Enhertu #12: Aka The Last One Before I Move. + Zometa

It can be sad to leave a place you have grown to love.  Weird, that I have positive feelings for this place,
but the people are wonderful and have worked wonders in my life while I've been a patient here.  What better way to help them never forget me than showing up with a bunch or party boxes of cookies?

Today was the normal schedule of things.: port accessed, meet with Dr. Cole, head to the other side for the infusion, wait for pharmacy drug lord sloths to approve and mis my drugs. I've only been on this exact treatment 11 times before.  CAUTION! Patient might have a life-ending negative reaction this time. We must check and double check everything to save patient from her oncologist....just in case.  

With my last appointment with Dr. Coolio, the cancer part of it all was all good news.  My labs today and vitals are looking to be in top-too shape.  Everything is in normal range!

The scans results also look great. 1)Nothing new in my brain.  Only saw residual from previous radiation there.  2)Abdomen looking good.  Lesion previously found on pancreas is nearly undetectable.  Everything else is also very tiny or no longer seen with CT 3)Results are mostly unremarkable.  Fix noyivr the remnants of something un my lungs, but most likely left over from inflammation (not cancerous).

Not too shabby of a last report from UT Southwester Richardson/Plano!

This will be the last time I'm escorted to the patient room to meet with Cole or Alisa or any of those nurses.  When I strolled in with boxes of cookies, calling out "It's Cooper's last day!" some thought that it was my very last day of chemo.  No...just at this place in this state! 

All hooked up and ready to start.  Use in room 1: We might for the first time for the last time, and I'm sorry that you didn't want a cookie because you didn't want to ruin your healthy lunch.  I wish you good luck.  

I've been through all the seasons with this view once. (All two of them that seem to exist here--three days ago, it was freezing, and I was scraping ice off my windshield; today it's trying to reach record highs with 3- mph winds and gusts up to 40 mph!)  It will be a new adventure at a new setting with new hospital staff to meet.  I accept the mission ahead.  

And suddenly you just know it’s time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.-- Meister Eckhart

As our move from Texas to New Mexico draws closer---5 days from now to be exact---I think about all the comments I've received and gasps of shock and concern about all the things that need doing before a moving.  

"Why there?"

"Will you be close to family?"

"What about your cancer treatments?"

"What about your boys and their schools/friends/sports?"

"Do you have a house yet?"

"Did your house sell?"

"Are you nervous?"

Yes, I'm nervous.  Who wouldn't be?  I'm headed to a new state, setting up another home, starting up with my FOURTH oncologist, registering three boys into new schools and sports teams and going to a place I've only driven through a few times in my life on the way to somewhere else.  I am nervous, but also excited.  When this opportunity became an actual offer, Stephen and I looked at all the positives and negatives.  We pondered and prayed and partitioned our parents for advice. It all came down to feeling at peace with this new path,  There is some purpose in thiexperience. I know it.

In addition to my plan for striving to stay alive for at least one year at a time to allow new chemo to come way, I also believe there is a purpose in me living Whether it is just for me to continue to experience the world, or being a mother to three children and a wife to my husband, or to inspire, uplift, teach and shine light on the unfair and unexpected troubles that come to all, while attempting to be an example of faith through affliction, I'm not sure.  I could just be lucky, but all the miracle sI've seen through this journey tell me that's not all.  There are countless reasons  for me to stick around. 

Hopefully,  some of those reasons for this new adventure will become clear soon, but if not, I will keep fighting.  

For anyone thinking of taking their own new first step into an adventure, here's some words that others have shared:

 .     

The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.

Eleanor Roosevelt

Every man’s life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.

Ernest Hemingway

You must go on adventures to find out where you truly belong.

Sue Fitzmaurice

If we were meant to stay in one place, we’d have roots instead of feet.

Rachel Wolchin

One way to get the most out of life is to look upon it as an adventure.

William Feather

“Then one day, when you least expect it, the great adventure finds you.”  

Ewan McGregor

Last Scans in Frisco

 It never fails.  Every time it comes time for scans, someone asks if I'm nervous/worried.  

I'd be lying if I said that bad results were never on my mind, but I prefer to focus on the positive.  There have been great scan results in the past and terrible ones, too.  But, I hold on to the hope that things will work out fine.  Whether these come back still clear or with news of a new tumor growth, I know that I will face and fight it with faith.   

The techs have come and gone over the last few years.  Only one of my two personal favorites, Dan and Suzie, remains.  Dan has moved on to a different hospital, and Susie shared that he asks about me every they meet.  They have made a great impact in my journey.  After hearing this bit of information, my mind pondered on how I have made an impression on them, as well.   Why do some people come in to our lives for such a short time, but leave a lasting influence? I'm not sure why or how it all works, but I do know that kindness and smiles do wonders.  

The scans went well.  I feel at peace, either way the results come out.  I know that I have support and love from so many sources that I will be empowered to continue fighting.  

I had lunch with one of these sources, this week.  This friend has been an incredible example of strength and faith in the face of hardship.  She has endured great trials and kept up her fight in all the hard things and is beyond strong. And, she told me to not give up the fight.  She helped remind me that "I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me." (Phillipians 4:13) When I believe this and become this, I feel that I am truly strong, like my strong friend, and can keep fighting.

January 2022 marks NINE YEARS that I have been on this journey!  I joked in the beginning, that I just needed to keep living a year at a time, and the next new drug would be released.  As I think on my gratitude for this year, my mind knows that all the wonderful memories from this year are because of this new drug I have been on, and doctors and nurses and family and friends who have ministered to me.  And, they are all , whether they realize it or not, acting in God's name.  

And, this love, service, and charity is what this time of year is all about.  I have the hope and faith to keep on fighting and kicking cancer to the curb.