Aug 22, 2014
So the time had finally come to do my "after 6th round of chemo" ultrasound. Knowing I was doing 8 rounds regardless of what the ultrasound showed took off the pressure and expectation of there being no canser left. I still have 2 rounds to go, so I was able to view it more as a "where we're at" picture. Given docetaxel is a different drug and works in a different way than FEC, I wanted to make sure it was still shrinking. Last ultrasound the lump was 1.5 cm (not sure what the other 2 measurements were). You could still feel pea sized lymph nodes. That was right after my 3rd round of chemo. Since then I haven't been able to feel anything in the lymph nodes or my breast so I hoped that meant it was still withering away.
My mom wanted to come with me to my ultrasound. I had told her multiple times it was all good, I could go myself. But she insisted and came to pick me up. It was nice for the company but with my Grandma visiting they had been so busy running all over that I didn't want her to feel she had to come, if she just wanted to sit and have an afternoon off. But she came and I appreciated it. We drove to Southcenter where I had my previous ultrasound as well as my biopsy. The staff are all awesome.
We sat for a few minutes waitinh to be called. I looked at the other women in the waiting room wondering what their stories were. I wish I could've known if any were waiting to get a biopsy done and were scared. Cause only 1 other lady had a friend with her. Everyone else was alone. I hoped if anyone was sitting there scared that I wasn't adding to their fear, being bald and almost eyebrowless - telltale signs of how my mammo and biopsy went.
A kind young woman called my name and off I went.
I followed her in to the back for my usual routine - change into a pink gown and fill out paperwork. I think I can fill out those forms with my eyes shut...A little while later she took me back to the room where I laid down on the bed 'in position' - right arm over my head, gown open on my right side.
I was suddenly nervous. What if it had grown? Each tech is different, but most of them don't talk through the whole thing. I've now learnt (through experience) some take ALOT of pics, some just a few. It's kind nerve wracking. As she was focusing on a section of my breast that was not where the lump was, I could feel that old anxiety start to kick in. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I tried the technique from the visualisation and relaxation class I took at Wellspring. I couldn't focus properly so I concentrated instead on the music they pipe through the rooms. That helped.
Once she was done, I tried to get an idea from her face if all was well, but she had a pretty good poker face. She told me she'd go show the radiologist (they do this every time). Then like most of them say, she said "the radiologist may come in or he may not". I finished her sentence "Cause they are all different, I know".
It felt like she was gone for a long time. I started to fidget. I started to worry. Then I started making deals with God. "If you let her come in and say "radiologist said images are all good, I'll..."
I asked my friend Stephane if the "tests" get easier - if they ever just become "routine". Sadly he said for him the anxiety is always there till they give the all clear. I wonder if this is part of what makes survivorship so tough - it's hard to put canser behind you when "tests" to see if it has come back become part of your life. And after a canser diagnosis you know tests results don't always come back "all clear". Bad things can happen to good people - not just to "someone else". They can happen to you.
So when the tech came back through the door a (long!!) while later, followed by the radiologist, my heart stopped. My honest first thought was "oh s#$t, what did they find now?". You have to understand - the only time a radiologist ever came in to talk to me was when I had to get my biopsy and look how that turned out...
Maybe God decided to take me up on one of the myriad of deals I offered up cause the Radiologist said "well, looks good!". Then he kept clapping his hands together while making a shrinking noise, all while smiling ear to ear.
"It's working - it's moving in the right direction!". He was so happy he was practically doing a jig in the room! It took me a few minutes to process this info (and get my heart started again...) then I asked "so there's still some left?".
He blinked, like I had taken him by surprise, and said "I'm trying to give you good news!".
I laughed and asked if the lymph nodes looked more normal and he nodded yes then did another clap and shrinking noise. I thanked him. Lots. I've never met such a lively radiologist! He didn't give me any numbers or measurements (I assume only the docs are supposed to do that) When he left the room the tech looked at me and said "he gives out so much bad news that he likes to personally deliver good news".
When she left I almost cried in relief. And then almost danced my own jig on my way out!
A week later my Oncologist's nurse, Trish, called to check in since I won't be seeing Dr Stewart before my next chemo due to the stat. I told her about my reaction last chemo and she told me to take all the pills plus Benedril (that makes 5 different drugs pre chemo!) They can give me more if need be at my chemo if I still react. She also had the results of my ultrasound. Because I was in the car when she called I had to write it down afterwards so the numbers are jumbled ( I have alot of trouble remembering any new info due to brain fog or chemo brain...I'll post something about that in its own post lol) The lump now measures 3 (or 4) by 4 (or5) by 8 mm! The last ultrasound the measurements were in cm...So it's practically gone but I'm hoping the next 2 rounds obliterate it!! I am so happy we are measuring in mm now!!! I was so caught up in the small size of the lump, that I forgot to ask about the lymph nodes...oops...I'll be sure to ask before my last chemo.
Oh and we finalised the fundraiser date at my local pub Kildares Ale House (in Silverado). So keep Sept 20 open (will start at 4pm). We (Andrea, Erin and I) will only have 200 tickets printed (which is capacity!) and will have a Facebook event for invites (with more details) plus an Evite for those not on Facebook but have email (work peeps - I'll send a group initial email to you and then fwd your work emails to add to Evite if that works). I can tell you there will be a silent auction, 50/50 draw, some trivia to name a few things. Tickets will be $20 and you get a free drink with each ticket (domestic beer or highball) More details to come in next few days (like where funds going etc).
The fundraiser will take place right before my last chemo, 2 weeks before The Run For The Cure. My friends Bobbi and Harj are doing up a poster with the info so I'll post it in my blog once it's done. So excited!! (and to the rest of my girls - don't worry - we'll be sending you a list of things we need help with lol).
These are the kinds of events that have made a 'chemo summer' not so bad. I've had a few big events to look forward to. Old Macdonalds. Big Valley Jambouree. Now the Fundraiser. Then my 36th birthday and The Run. There will be an 'end of chemo' party in there somewhere, and I hope we can get to West Ed for a weekend, (after chemo but before surgery,) for a 'family canser break'. Its seriously needed.
All these events have helped to make my last few months not just 3 week chunks of time that are always a countdown to chemo. There's been some pretty cool things to look forward to. I definitely think these events helped to keep me (mostly) positive - cause it has been a bit more challenging the longer chemo goes on, to stay positive. Kinda like towards the end of pregnancy when you feel like you're going to be pregnant forever. It feels like chemo will never end.
But only 2 more to go and I couldn't be happier!
So the time had finally come to do my "after 6th round of chemo" ultrasound. Knowing I was doing 8 rounds regardless of what the ultrasound showed took off the pressure and expectation of there being no canser left. I still have 2 rounds to go, so I was able to view it more as a "where we're at" picture. Given docetaxel is a different drug and works in a different way than FEC, I wanted to make sure it was still shrinking. Last ultrasound the lump was 1.5 cm (not sure what the other 2 measurements were). You could still feel pea sized lymph nodes. That was right after my 3rd round of chemo. Since then I haven't been able to feel anything in the lymph nodes or my breast so I hoped that meant it was still withering away.
My mom wanted to come with me to my ultrasound. I had told her multiple times it was all good, I could go myself. But she insisted and came to pick me up. It was nice for the company but with my Grandma visiting they had been so busy running all over that I didn't want her to feel she had to come, if she just wanted to sit and have an afternoon off. But she came and I appreciated it. We drove to Southcenter where I had my previous ultrasound as well as my biopsy. The staff are all awesome.
We sat for a few minutes waitinh to be called. I looked at the other women in the waiting room wondering what their stories were. I wish I could've known if any were waiting to get a biopsy done and were scared. Cause only 1 other lady had a friend with her. Everyone else was alone. I hoped if anyone was sitting there scared that I wasn't adding to their fear, being bald and almost eyebrowless - telltale signs of how my mammo and biopsy went.
A kind young woman called my name and off I went.
I followed her in to the back for my usual routine - change into a pink gown and fill out paperwork. I think I can fill out those forms with my eyes shut...A little while later she took me back to the room where I laid down on the bed 'in position' - right arm over my head, gown open on my right side.
I was suddenly nervous. What if it had grown? Each tech is different, but most of them don't talk through the whole thing. I've now learnt (through experience) some take ALOT of pics, some just a few. It's kind nerve wracking. As she was focusing on a section of my breast that was not where the lump was, I could feel that old anxiety start to kick in. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I tried the technique from the visualisation and relaxation class I took at Wellspring. I couldn't focus properly so I concentrated instead on the music they pipe through the rooms. That helped.
Once she was done, I tried to get an idea from her face if all was well, but she had a pretty good poker face. She told me she'd go show the radiologist (they do this every time). Then like most of them say, she said "the radiologist may come in or he may not". I finished her sentence "Cause they are all different, I know".
It felt like she was gone for a long time. I started to fidget. I started to worry. Then I started making deals with God. "If you let her come in and say "radiologist said images are all good, I'll..."
I asked my friend Stephane if the "tests" get easier - if they ever just become "routine". Sadly he said for him the anxiety is always there till they give the all clear. I wonder if this is part of what makes survivorship so tough - it's hard to put canser behind you when "tests" to see if it has come back become part of your life. And after a canser diagnosis you know tests results don't always come back "all clear". Bad things can happen to good people - not just to "someone else". They can happen to you.
So when the tech came back through the door a (long!!) while later, followed by the radiologist, my heart stopped. My honest first thought was "oh s#$t, what did they find now?". You have to understand - the only time a radiologist ever came in to talk to me was when I had to get my biopsy and look how that turned out...
Maybe God decided to take me up on one of the myriad of deals I offered up cause the Radiologist said "well, looks good!". Then he kept clapping his hands together while making a shrinking noise, all while smiling ear to ear.
"It's working - it's moving in the right direction!". He was so happy he was practically doing a jig in the room! It took me a few minutes to process this info (and get my heart started again...) then I asked "so there's still some left?".
He blinked, like I had taken him by surprise, and said "I'm trying to give you good news!".
I laughed and asked if the lymph nodes looked more normal and he nodded yes then did another clap and shrinking noise. I thanked him. Lots. I've never met such a lively radiologist! He didn't give me any numbers or measurements (I assume only the docs are supposed to do that) When he left the room the tech looked at me and said "he gives out so much bad news that he likes to personally deliver good news".
When she left I almost cried in relief. And then almost danced my own jig on my way out!
A week later my Oncologist's nurse, Trish, called to check in since I won't be seeing Dr Stewart before my next chemo due to the stat. I told her about my reaction last chemo and she told me to take all the pills plus Benedril (that makes 5 different drugs pre chemo!) They can give me more if need be at my chemo if I still react. She also had the results of my ultrasound. Because I was in the car when she called I had to write it down afterwards so the numbers are jumbled ( I have alot of trouble remembering any new info due to brain fog or chemo brain...I'll post something about that in its own post lol) The lump now measures 3 (or 4) by 4 (or5) by 8 mm! The last ultrasound the measurements were in cm...So it's practically gone but I'm hoping the next 2 rounds obliterate it!! I am so happy we are measuring in mm now!!! I was so caught up in the small size of the lump, that I forgot to ask about the lymph nodes...oops...I'll be sure to ask before my last chemo.
Oh and we finalised the fundraiser date at my local pub Kildares Ale House (in Silverado). So keep Sept 20 open (will start at 4pm). We (Andrea, Erin and I) will only have 200 tickets printed (which is capacity!) and will have a Facebook event for invites (with more details) plus an Evite for those not on Facebook but have email (work peeps - I'll send a group initial email to you and then fwd your work emails to add to Evite if that works). I can tell you there will be a silent auction, 50/50 draw, some trivia to name a few things. Tickets will be $20 and you get a free drink with each ticket (domestic beer or highball) More details to come in next few days (like where funds going etc).
The fundraiser will take place right before my last chemo, 2 weeks before The Run For The Cure. My friends Bobbi and Harj are doing up a poster with the info so I'll post it in my blog once it's done. So excited!! (and to the rest of my girls - don't worry - we'll be sending you a list of things we need help with lol).
These are the kinds of events that have made a 'chemo summer' not so bad. I've had a few big events to look forward to. Old Macdonalds. Big Valley Jambouree. Now the Fundraiser. Then my 36th birthday and The Run. There will be an 'end of chemo' party in there somewhere, and I hope we can get to West Ed for a weekend, (after chemo but before surgery,) for a 'family canser break'. Its seriously needed.
All these events have helped to make my last few months not just 3 week chunks of time that are always a countdown to chemo. There's been some pretty cool things to look forward to. I definitely think these events helped to keep me (mostly) positive - cause it has been a bit more challenging the longer chemo goes on, to stay positive. Kinda like towards the end of pregnancy when you feel like you're going to be pregnant forever. It feels like chemo will never end.
But only 2 more to go and I couldn't be happier!
From Kris Carr's website
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