A Radioactive Update

I haven't updated on my treatment in a while, so I thought I would just give you a quick little summary of what is going on!

I am currently in the midst of radiation treatment, actually, I am slated to FINISH radiation on Monday! I will have completed 25 radiation treatments to my breast, the lymph nodes under my breast bone, the lymph nodes above my collar bone and my axilla. Sometimes, people in similar situations go on to get "boosts" of extra radiation to the tumor bed and scar, however, the area where my tumor bed was is actually not located anywhere near my scar and I had good margins after surgery, so the doctor would like to stop with the 25 "regular" treatments. This makes me a bit nervous since everyone I know seems to have gotten the boosts, BUT he is comfortable with this plan and does not want to over-radiate the area unnecessarily. Hopefully this will be the last of my "active" cancer treatments, EVER! So far, I have a very mild amount of redness and my skin feels a little bit tight, but it's not bad at all. I have been using pure aloe vera gel and Aquaphor in order to keep my skin nice and protected and it seems to be working well for me.

In addition to radiation, I am also getting Herceptin every 3 weeks for an entire year. It has been shown to benefit people who are "low expressing" for HER2, so I am grateful to be getting this drug even though I don't REALLY qualify for it. Herceptin is infused like chemotherapy through my port, and I guess, TECHNICALLY it is chemotherapy, but it is what is known as a "monoclonal antibody", which means it only really looks for and attacks those cells that have the HER2 receptors. In other words, it doesn't attack healthy cells and make me feel crappy like chemo and it doesn't make me lose my hair {which is growing in pretty well BTW}. The only real downside of Herceptin is that it is known to be cardio toxic, so I do have to have cardiac echos done every few months to make sure the ol' ticker is still functioning.

As you may remember, my tumor was HIGHLY hormone positive, so we are also taking measures to ensure that any straggler cells {of which we hope and pray there are none} are deprived of the estrogen which could possibly fuel them. So, I am getting Zoladex injections every 3 months in order to shut down ovarian function, which basically means I was thrown into menopause and get to experience all of the fun that comes with that. Still, so far, it's not too bad ~ minor warm flashes occasionally and just feeling a bit "older" really. But, maybe I was just used to it since chemo had already pretty much shut things down. Along with the Zoladex injections, I am also taking Tamoxifen, which binds to the estrogen receptors on breast cells in order to block them from getting the estrogen they need for fuel. Again, so far Tamoxifen has not been bad and I am IMMENSELY thankful for this wonderful drug, which I will likely be on for at least 10 years. I hope Tamoxifen remains my friend for a long, long time.

Along with all of the conventional treatments, I am also trying to keep my body healthy by running {although, the boys and I were sick for 2 weeks, so that was shot to craps for a while!} and taking my vitamin D and fish oil, all of which have been linked to lowered recurrence rates and fish oil has the added benefit of helping with the joint pain that can occur as a result of all the anti-hormonal treatments.

On Friday, I have my first of MANY 3-month follow-up appointments with Dr. K {my medical oncologist}. I am nervous about this appointment for a few reasons. One, because I still have a bad taste in my mouth from our last meeting {the one where he said he "wasn't happy" but really was}, two, because I have never had one of these appointments and I don't know what to expect, and three, because blood work always makes me nervous, especially because I hope the Tamoxifen and Zoladex haven't had a negative impact on anything.

That's about it. Just plugging along here, trying to remember to GET BUSY LIVING without succumbing to the constant fear of recurrence. It's a balancing act, trying to remain vigilant about health ~ but also trying not to allow worries of possibly futures consume my every thought.

With that, I am going to get on the treadmill and watch some Gilmore Girls DVDs, and then sip some green tea. :~)

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If you are the praying, hoping, chanting, well wishing, or light giving type, here is where you can direct some love:

1. That the cancer is gone and will NEVER EVER RETURN! {of course}
2. That my skin/ tissues continue to hold up well against the assault of radiation while it does it's job of reducing risk of local recurrence.
3. That my blood work is awesome on Friday.
4. That my appointment on Friday can leave us feeling hopeful and excited for the future.
5. That we ALL remember to GET BUSY LIVING!

Thanks friends! XO

On a Cancer Free Day

This entry has been floating around in my head for a while and a texted conversation with a friend brought it back to the surface a couple of days ago.

As someone who has had cancer, recently finished chemotherapy, had surgery and is currently in radiation the following question is not uncommon:

"So...are you cancer free now?"

Seems like a simple question, one that would require only a simple "yes" or "no" answer, right? It gets asked at Thanksgiving, at the grocery store, over the phone, on Facebook, at the library, any number of places while going about my daily business. I know the people who ask it are worried and they want to be  reassured that I am okay, but "cancer free" means so much more than having "no evidence of disease". So for many of us, us being those who were unfortunate enough to hear the phrase, "I'm sorry, but it's cancer", it's a struggle to answer that seemingly simple question. First, we worry that if we say, "YES!" we are somehow jinxing ourselves right into hearing those dreaded words again. Because hearing 'the words" in the first place has made us just a *tiny* bit irrational. But at the same time we WANT to say yes. We WANT to sound completely and totally optimistic and hopeful. Because that's what we WANT to believe to be true, just as much as you do. Next, we worry that if we say, "I don't know..." or "That's what they say!" or "That's the hope!" that we somehow come off sounding negative or ungrateful or like we don't really know what the heck is going on which would equally jinx us right into hearing those words again! {you know, because we didn't appreciate our "cancer free" time enough} So usually, our answer {or at least mine} sounds something like this:

"Uuuuhhhh....ummm....well, there is currently no reason to think otherwise."

How vague and annoying is that answer? I mean seriously. And now that I type it, I think it also comes off a bit negative and like I don't know what the heck is going on! However, it is what it is, currently there is "no evidence of disease" and "no reason to believe there is anything lurking". But oh how I wish I were brave enough to just shout, "YES! I am cancer free!" Here's the deal though, once you have heard "the words" it's hard to truly and fully BE cancer free ~ even when there is no evidence of disease in the body. Cancer does so much more than attack the body. It comes at your mind like the sneakiest of ninjas, attacking your thoughts, your hopes, and your dreams, your very foundation, your understanding of the way things "should" be.  Even after the physical cancer has been removed from the body, even after you have been told "it's out, it's gone, you're cancer free, everything we are doing now is just to keep it away" the mental cancer is still there, creeping into the darkest spaces of your mind, making your heart race and blood pressure rise, causing your palms to sweat and your face to go numb at the strangest of times, often when you were JUST thinking that everything was okay. It takes longer to eradicate the mental cancer, it's sneaky. It requires much more time to heal. It's still early days for me. I'm still in treatment after all and going to radiation EVERY DAY certainly doesn't help matters, but at this point I'm not sure if I will ever have a truly "cancer free day". So far it hasn't happened. Sure, there are some amazing cancer free minutes and even some stretches of intoxicating cancer free hours, but never an entire day. At least not yet. Until there is a day where posts of bone aspirations, cancerversaries, scans, biopsies, medications, side effects, and endless colors of awareness ribbons don't litter my Facebook feed, until THAT can happen, I can't possibly go a day being "cancer free". None of us can. I guess the simple answer to the not so simple question is this:

"Until there is NO cancer, there will be NO cancer free."