Chemo no 2 and good news!

by Hilla Duka

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In the middle of all of this, we're still trying to have some kind of a summer holiday for the kids, thank goodness I bought the car so that we can go to the beach and I can come with! Milo's looking particularly grumpy in this one as he thought he'd been in enough pictures already....

 

Yesterday I went in for my second chemo treatment (2 out of 10). So far I feel better than the first time, that sort of inner vibrating feeling hasn't showed up (yet, at least) and I'm not really nauseous. The last treatment I got away with taking only the prescribed medications for side effects, and not rely on any of the in-case-meds, which I was quite happy about. I feel today, 24 hours in, that it will hopefully be the same this time. I'm quite tired, which is only to be expected in the first week, as the chemo is actually toxic and harmful not only to the cancer cells, but to all of the cells in my body, but as of yet, that's about it. Well, that and chemo-brain. Chemo brain is sort of like having the brain of someone half drunk, or at least slightly more than tipsy, but without any of the nicer effects that come with drinking, which makes it slightly unsettling. Making decisions, I'll tell you, is about as bad an idea now as when you've given birth and are high on hormones... 

 

The day before yesterday, I had my doctor's appointment, and she was more than thrilled with the results of the first treatment. It took me a while to get into my head what she was saying, I was so afraid the scintigraphy I did ten days ago (basically they filled me up with radioactive something, left it in me for a few hours and then used a huge camera to photograph every aspects of my insides to find out more about the extents of the metastases) would have shown new metastases, or something would show up that would render treatment impossible. But my doctor was thrilled that the side effects had been so slight, and couldn't feel any of the infected lymph nodes in my neck (I had two that could be felt by hand). When she examined my breast, she concluded that the tumour had been reduced from about 6cm to 4.5cm, approximately. I will have to wait until the half time exam to tell for sure, but at least this means that the chemo is working and my body is responding to it. In her words, it was the best possible outcome so far! And I started thinking, since I grieve all the bad news, I must cherish and celebrate the good news too!

 

Unfortunately, later that day my med nurse (the one who gives me the chemo) called to say that my blood count had dropped back to 95, despite the two bags of blood I received during my first chemo treatment. They don't know why, but gave me another two bags of blood this time. I feel like I'm doing fairly ok with an HB of 95, but the lowest acceptable number is around 120, and I really don't want to drop back to 70 as I had when I had to to hospital the first time, I was terribly tired and my head was spinning like mad. So once again, thank you to all the blood donors who make it possible for me to continue! It's easy I think, when pondering giving blood, to reconsider as the red tape is taxing and annoying (having to state who you've slept with, when, gender and such can feel quite invasive), but ultimately, giving blood saves lives. I know many are not permitted to do so, but if you're allowed to give blood, please at least consider it.

 

I shaved my head about a week ago, or the day after the last post, as that dramatic scene from any movie featuring a cancer patient (you know the one, in the shower when the woman stands holding out her hands covered with hair and breaks down in tears) turned out to be true. I've had quite a few people looking/ staring at my port-a-cath since I got that (basically, it's a small round, slightly heightened disc that sits under my collarbone, and is connected to a blood vessel in my neck, which is where I get the chemo and blood transfusions), and it's inevitably more staring now that I also wear a scarf all the time. I want to make a difference here between the looks that come from understanding that you're watching a person going through a really hard time and being sympathetic to that, and the looks that come from that same feeling that makes people gossip or tell tales. Those looks I loath, but the others I don't mind. I said from beginning that I would never consent to wearing a wig to make healthy people feel more ok around me, and I won't, but there are times I want to go up to those people and give them a piece of my mind. Like the mother in one of my kids class, who came up to me asking, her daughter had said my son had said in class that I have cancer, and was that true? Yes, I said, I do. Oh, she said, dumbstruck, and is it serious? Yes, I said, it's serious. Oh, she said again, then excused herself and went back to her little group of blathering mums to share the juicy piece of gossip. I was fuming, but tried very hard not to be as rude as she had been, thinking our kids do go to the same class no matter how much I despise her...

 

But there are positives as well. The day before yesterday, as I sat in the waiting room to see my doctor, another woman there struck up conversation with me (I'll just assume you all know how good I am at making small talk? That is, not at all.) and it was easy and non offensive and it really brightened my day. She was in her seventies, had been diagnosed 20 years past, and had lived until recently before it came back. She was a miracle patient of 20 years ago, when any stage of breast cancer was equal to having only a few years to live, just as I will be a miracle patient in 20 years to come. She was so positive, and sympathetic as she asked about my own situation. Living with breast cancer herself, I didn't have to explain how bad the situation is, I just said I had stage 4, was diagnosed 2 1/2 months ago, and it had spread to the skeleton. And she was sweet and sympathetic without it making me cringe - we were just both in this hell together. 


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Older comments

Keke 2014-07-21

❤❤❤❤❤

Fia 2014-07-19

Åh Hilla! Jag längtar tills augusti då jag hoppas att vi kan ses :D Du är så sjukt stark och kommer att klara det här :) Francis hälsar massvis!! Massa pussar & kramar!! P.s snart får jag krama dig på riktigt!

Li 2014-07-24

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😘

Neil 2014-07-21

Xxxxx

Stammen 2014-07-23

Hej Hilla Jag blir så glad av att läsa om att din familj, vänner o kollegor visar sin omtanke och välvilja. Det visar att det är en fördel att vara en kärleksfull människa som du, för värmen kommer mångdubbelt tillbaka nu, vid en tidpunkt när kroppen bestämt sig för att jävlas med dig... Överhettade sommarkramar!