The real deal...

I have had many many comments from friends and family about how impressed you all are on how well I am handling my breast cancer diagnosis and treatment. My attitude stems from a combination of a natural disposition toward simply tackling the problem and moving on plus a concentrated effort to remain positive since that is the advice I get from everyone - not just well-wishers, but the actual medical professionals as well.

So when I read about a cancer patient who, once finished with her chemo (the jewel-red kind which I also had), went home and threw out EVERYTHING red that she owned as she did not want to be reminded of the chemo colour ever again, I was amazed. I view chemo the opposite way. I tell myself (and others) that CHEMO IS MY FRIEND. Some days it is easier to believe this than other days, but there is all kinds of research and history that shows how much chemo improves a cancer patient's chance of survival. If I have been diagnosed with cancer, why wouldn't I want the best medicine to help me beat that? Even though the temporary side effects are sometimes unpleasant, I am willing to deal with a LOT of unpleasantness to give myself the best chance of survival.

I WANT TO SURVIVE CANCER. And I plan to. Of course, just because you plan something doesn't necessarily means it happens - but I am putting my damndest best effort toward it which means being THANKFUL that I can have chemo and maintaining a positive attitude - even when it's hard.

So you often hear of me looking at the bright side and making the lemons out of the lemonade. And less frequently you hear about the 'down days' which is also part of my effort to remain positive. But I think it's time to let you guys in on it.

As can be expected, I have had down days. But surprisingly few of them looking at the big picture. Of course, the day I was diagnosed was a hard one - but I had people who love me surrounding me and supporting me that made it bearable. The following morning, I woke up, found Cam at his computer, went up and hugged him from the back and simply cried quietly. Not sobbing or weeping - just some shortlived tears for a few moments before I pulled myself together.

Then, when I went for my MRI at the hospital, I elected to go alone thinking it would be one more of those simple quick tests that seemed silly to drag someone along for. Once I got there, they told me I had to have an injection for the MRI. At the beginning of this process, I had an I.V. needle phobia (which is long gone now, btw). This fear of the needle unleashed my pent-up emotions and I lay on the gurney crying and crying with no one there (because of my own dumb choice) except a very kind nurse who held my hand and soothingly told me she understood how overwhelming it all was.

Not so much anymore, but earlier when I was still getting used to my diagnosis, I followed the advice of other cancer patients and medical professionals by NOT surfing the web regarding cancer because there is so much misinformation out there and it can be very scary. So I thought I was following a 'safe' branch of inquiry in just trying to get a handle on just how long people would typically be away from their jobs while trying to fight this battle. It was dumb of me to think I could Google that question and not get a list of horror stories about surgeries gone wrong and horrifying chemo effects. Without realizing where I'd gone, I started reading about people who said that their chemo treatments 'felt like they were run over by a truck'. That was one of the tamer ones, I think but I was reading along this blog and all of a sudden I broke down sobbing - much to Cam's shock & surprise - as he of course had no idea what I was reading online or he might have stopped me from doing it. And so the advice was correct to not read that crap because what I read about what was happening to other people was WAY scarier than what chemo has actually turned out to be for me. Of course, perhaps if I hadn't read that stuff, I would be suffering more - that whole thing about expectations...? I don't know. But anyway, this blog is about the meltdowns and that was one I had.

Then, another day in the fall, when my inlaws on their way out the door from a visit, I had a minor meltdown while watching them gather their stuff to leave. This was one of those times where I have NO idea why this happened - just simply out of the blue, I was sitting on the stairs and started to cry.

Other than kinda feeling 'blah' after chemo days, I hadn't really had many more meltdowns until last week when I STUPIDLY watched Terms of Endearment in the morning, which set me bawling my head off the WHOLE DAY. That was probably the worst one yet... but I managed to pull myself together for TOPS and ended up having a really enjoyable evening with my friends afterward so the day wasn't a total write-off.

As you guys know, for chemo #4, my neutrophils were low and I got a 75% dose of chemo. That is mildly concerning when you're thinking that 100% of the dose will do a better job of battling any cancer cells. Of course, that's not how the game works but I was happy to have 75% rather than no chemo... SO, I was REALLY hoping that my neutrophils would bounce back for Round 5 and I was feeling a lot more energetic than I had been in previous rounds so I had CONVINCED myself that I was going to be in top shape for a full dose of chemo on Round 5. And so you ALSO know that didn't happen for me. The result? Another meltdown. Since it involved another blood test, and more reduced chemo.... but most importantly, the feeling of betrayal. My body has already betrayed me once because cancer is your own cells simply dividing faster. WHY? No one really knows yet. So, I dealt with that betrayal and had those enthusiastic cells cut out, and so now I want to get the treatment done & fly through it and move along with life. But then, another body betrayal.... low neutrophils #1.... but HEY - I was ok with that... but then yet ANOTHER body betrayal - low damned neutrophils #2.... I think I'm pretty darn good to my body. It's not obese, I don't let it smoke, I am a light drinker, I eat vegetables and fruit and protein and vitamins. WHY IS MY BODY CONTINUING TO LET ME DOWN??? Yes - this bums me out - especially because there is nothing that can be done about neutrophils. So it IS tough to sit in the lab waiting room for your 2nd blood test in 2 days because your body has let you down YET AGAIN and you need to test by just HOW much it has let you down this time. I was crying while sitting there and I'm sure it's tough for Cam to take to watch me too. Although, again, I look at the bright side of low neutrophils meaning that the chemo is obviously doing something. When I still have to shave my legs, it gets me wondering sometimes, so the chemo is obviously getting into my bone marrow if my cell production is being affected. That is what it is supposed to do, so that's the lemonade there. But it still sucks.


Which brings us up to now - and why the hell am I writing this particular blog? I don't really know the answer to that either, except that somebody asked me recently if I'm doing as well as I seem to be doing or am I faking it. And someone else was worried that I might be putting on an act that I will 'crash' from. I don't think so - but I thought I would post some more realities of a cancer treatment journey that might give some insight into how this process goes (at least for me).

I generally don't blog about that stuff because I don't want to bum everyone out but I did this time so you could see that I do get my 'sad' releases from time to time, which probably enable me to stay positive the rest of the time.

So after all that depressing stuff, the good news is that these immediate few days after chemo feel better than the immediate few days after any previous chemos have felt. I was told that this set of drugs has less nausea associated, although more fatigue. It is too early for that to set in yet for me, so I'm trying to get more accomplished earlier on when I still feel energetic.

Well, hopefully this will give some comfort to anyone who is wondering if I was about to topple from an emotional cliff. I have a positive attitude. But I'm not a robot... I'm going to beat cancer!