July 2nd, 2009 at 9:31 pm
This entry is for my cancer groupies. The few, the strange, the loopy. Those of you that take pills to sleep, and shots to produce bone marrow, this one is for you.
I want to start by saying some things in this tri-weekly report will disappoint some of you. I don’t want anyone, - A N Y O N E -, to freak out. When it’s time to freak out, I will let you know. You have plenty of time to practice in the comfort of your own home. Don’t share your freak out here. Thank you for your cooperation.
Again, I was seen by NP A. I haven’t seen Doc P since I started this round of Bevacizumab and Ixabepilone (Avastin and Ixempra). She’s seen my pictures and talked on the phone with NP A. I really miss Doc P’s energy. She’s my imaginary roller derby chick.
Comparing the pictures from after the first treatment to the pictures taken two weeks after the second treatment, it’s unclear if the chemo is still working. The first infusion brought on such dramatic results (the big hole), that anything less is seen as unimpressive.
Sidenote: The pics of the hole opening up have been making the rounds around Dana Farber. I’m glad many people have been able to actually see a cancer tumor dying in action. It’s pretty rare, especially to watch breast cancer die.
The most recent picture has more skin irritation around the existing tumors. I am concerned, but I also know that the skin could be irritated as a by-product of being covered all the time. The skin gets very little chance to rest, to relax, to just be skin.
I’ve also noticed a spot on my back. I’m not sure if this is a pimple, or another bra irritation. It is now on my self-monitor list. If it doesn’t clear up, it will be photographed and tracked.
To help my skin relax as much as possible, I’m trying to put aloe on it. I’m still putting the silverderm cream on the open areas and it does seem to be assisting in the sloughing off the white goop I consider to be exposed cancer cells. The yellow fatty tissue is become more exposed in these areas, which I personally think is good (but I’m not a doctor).
NP A, in consulting with Doc P, is concerned that the open tumors, where the yellow fat layer is exposed, are not healing. Since the wound care doctor had told me he didn’t expect any healing to happen with the cancer active and with the chemo flowing, I haven’t been concerned.
Doc P decided to hold my Avastin this week. Avastin inhibits the body’s ability to produce blood vessels (ie: healing). Avastin is thought to assist in slowing down cancer growth by not allowing the cancer cells to multiply and prosper. Having Avastin slow down cancer reproduction, it’s thought that the main chemo drug, in my case Ixempra, is able to better attack the cancer.
And I thought things were going along pretty good for just having two infusions.
So we pushed through this third infusion with just Ixempra. I’ll take pictures still this Sunday, but I’m not going to worry about the appearance of the tumors. The following two Sundays will be more important to me. I’ll consult my past pictures and try to get the same lighting and camera zoom. I want to get as close as possible so when I bring in my new pictures to compare with older ones, there will be no question about if progress is still being made or if the drugs have run their course.
I don’t want anyone to be discouraged. The fact that we were able to knock down the major tumor to such a huge degree is something we can’t forget. That large mass of cancer cells is no longer multiplying like crazy. The cancer cells left are at a disadvantage because they have less places to hide.
While you may be bummed out that this cycle seems so short, if it is declared to have stopped working, it just opens me up to (yet another) clinical trial. And I’m still in the big John Hopkins DNA study, and I’m also still in the big HOHO study. Oh, and my tissue is available to anyone that asks for a piece. Heck, if I have to go out slowly, I might as well scatter myself everywhere and put all my spare cells to good use.
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My timing for arrival on Dana 10 was impeccable. I scored a visit from the mid-morning snack cart, the late morning book cart, and the noon-time lunch cart. Tip: stay away from the chicken salad. I’m not sure how they make it, but it was tasteless and had something crunchy, like onions and celery, in it.
While I was getting my infusion, I took a nap (all the damn pre-meds do that too me). This time I came prepared. Not only did I score a seat in ‘over flow parking’, the small pod away from all the nurses station that the infusion nurses don’t like to stick people, but I also brought my sleeping mask.
It may seem crazy, but it was so nice. I set my Fuji Apple up to stream some nice internet music (www.sky.fm) and turned the lights out using my sleeping mask.
At some point I did wake up slightly because someone was fiddling with my fluids bag. I thought it was just my infusion nurse checking how much longer. Ixempra takes over 3 hours of drip time, giving me plenty of nap time.
When I was all done, my infusion nurse tells me she added more flush fluid to the Ixempra because I had told her I was a bad hydrator. Oh no! Extra potty stops were required before leaving for the scooter ride home.
Rebe on July 1st, 2009 at 9:34 pm
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