Three in A Row

Three good days. In a row. I hesitate to even say it, especially with the danger zone days 10 to 14 starting tomorrow. But, it's 8pm on Friday and it's been three good days in a row.

Thursday was a busy day. My secretary Michelle dropped by with baby Jayden (aka The Hair Competition). Seems Jayden hasn't really hit a hair growth spurt just yet, so we're still about even. You can see for yourself.

We also went back to see Dr. Karam at UCLA. I'm officially doing good. Dr. Karam is unofficially doing very well himself (mine is not a professional opinion in the same way his is). The even better news is that it will be Dr. Karam who stays in charge of me (well, me medically/cancer-ly speaking) for the years to come post-chemo and post-radiation. I'll go back and see Dr. Glaspy, the UCLA oncologist, from time to time as well, but mostly it will be Dr. Karam. And he's going to call and check out the radiation place he found that is nearby my office. If it gets his approval, I'll go check out the actual facility. Seems I need to do that soon, since I now know (from the great and good Dr. Karam--not from my tight-lipped oncologist) that there is a lot of prep time for radiation treatments. I also now know it's my entire breast that gets radiated. Owww. So Chris and I have begun plans for a mini 5-day vacation down in San Diego and La Jolla for an extra long Memorial Day weekend--that will be right between chemo and radiation. I should be sufficiently recovered to sit on a balcony overlooking the beach watching the sunset with a couple of glasses of wine. Repeatedly. And it's not that far away.

Anyway, here's the reunion photo. Dr. Karam looking like himself, and me in a hippie version of the Britney, bitch look.
Our next appointment with Dr. Karam is April 25th--when we're treating him to dinner at Omakase (he's curious, since they beat him out on the Break-out blog star poll). And yeah, that means he makes hotel calls and drives all the way to Riverside...for fine dining.

We then went over to the Century Plaza hotel to meet up with our friend JANE GIDEON who was in town with her two kids on a little mini-vacation herself. The kids played in the pool while we hung out at the poolside bar (of course we did). In LA, this look of mine doesn't get a second glance. See how we blended?
Jane is a busy mom of two who runs her own successful PR company, so she doesn't read the blog daily (shocking, I know). No worries though, I filled her in on the cancer experience. Turns out, my cancer is damn funny. Who knew? Well, maybe it was the wine. (And Jane, really, it's okay that you laughed at my cancer. No, really. I do too.)

Speaking of wine...I have sadly, tragically discovered that the wine does indeed exacerbate the hives. I may not be able to have any more wine for the next 5 weeks (watch as the blog posts get nastier and bitchier...which is actually possible. Trust me.). I had no wine or alcohol at all at the hotel, or when we went over to Houston's for dinner. (Where I did have to pause for a moment when the waiter asked if I wanted anchovies on my Caesar salad. Normally, yes, of course. But are anchovies on the "no eat" list like sushi? I don't know. I hope not, because I told the waiter yes.) On the upside, this meant Chris was free to wine away, since I was the obvious designated driver. I had a latte' for dessert and that helped me make it home and through the day without a nap. We got home at 9:30. And now you know why there was no blog post last night. Sleepy, sleepy, sleepy.

Today was a nice productive day. Chris went into the office and I worked from home. I also got my hairs cut. And by that I mean my wigs. I gave up and asked my hairstylist to come by and cut and style the wigs. We practiced on the Sienna/ meth-maven blond wig (the short one I only wear with a scarf or hat) and gave it bangs. It now has a definite 60s vibe. Then she trimmed up Britney so it doesn't have those straggly uneven ends. With that practice, we went ahead and cut bangs into the red one. I really can't stand all that hair in my face and it will just be a lot more comfortable now. I like it a lot. (Pictures will be produced eventually).

Tonight , I may test the martini tolerance. We were debating whether gin (my preference) or vodka would be less likely to exacerbate the hives. Chris thinks vodka is the way to go (something about what gin is made from vs. vodka...there was a berry involved somewhere. I really should concentrate harder).

And speaking of Chris...the best part of Friday was an email from him. See the photo of the two turtles on the rock up there? That's the pond in front of my office, which they've been cleaning and repairing for the last week. Today the turtles were returned. Chris sent me this photo with an email that said "This is how we should be spending our days." I have to admit, I teared up.

Cancer Dork

Ya think Loser was a little too strong huh? Awww. Thanks. I even appreciated that blog-lashing from Laura! Such love. So maybe I'm not a loser. I'm just a cancer dork. That's really more the case. I'll go with that for now. (Just so we're clear though...that's not actually me in the photo. Chemo isn't that harsh! I do kinda dance like that though.)

And here's how cancer dork is doing...not bad. I'll consider this two good days in a row. The queasiness is pretty much gone. Apparently cheeseburgers are the answer. Oh, yeah, and Taxol makes you eat like a little kid. Or, well, it makes me eat like a kid. I've had cheeseburgers and fries for the last two days. And today I had Kraft mac 'n cheese for lunch and then two 1/4 lb beef hot dogs and chips for dinner!! No, seriously, why am I not losing weight during chemo?? If anybody had any ideas at all please pass them on. It's mystifying. I also had a glass of wine tonight. First one in close to 2 weeks. It tasted good, but I could tell before I even finished it that it maybe wasn't a good idea. Small little headache and, well, I'll be having a baking soda water chaser. And in other side effect news, the heavy limbs thing has started too, but it's a little different this time. It's mostly in my legs and feet. Yeah, feet. The bones in my feet hurt. Super not comfy. Oh, and I don't think I mentioned before that I bruised the bottom of my foot. Yeah, the bottom of my foot. I stepped up on a little step-stool thing to reach something on the top shelf of my closet. When I stepped down, I stepped onto the heel of a shoe. And that's all it took! I have a two inch circular bruise in the bottom arch of my foot. Yeah, you bruise easily when you're on chemo. I know that now. So I've got a bruised arch and aching foot bones. Weirdness abounds. See, cancer dork!

By the way, since some of you have asked, here's the answers:

1) yes. And sometimes I reply to your comments too. But you'd have to go back to check where you left the commet to see if I replied. That's kind of a lot of work, I know, but it's also the only way that makes sens.

2) No, not all of my hair. 90% is gone; there's a feisty ten percent that is about an inch long now and sticks straight up. Chris calls it "little hair. BIG attitude!." And yes, I still have my eyebrows and eyelashes.

3) Yes, I'll be talking to Dr. Karam about finding a longterm oncologist at UCLA. In fact, we see him tomorrow (Thursday...probably as you're reading this).

4) Oh yeah. Totally.

5) That's not really any of your business is it? ;-)

That's all for tonight. Because I'm sure you all remember tomorrow is another Forgotten Grapes website update so we're all about that tonight. Check it out: Forgottengrapes.com

Cheers!

Wait, There's More!

I was talking with a good friend today (Hi John! And yeah, that's a BC photo) and I realized there's one more tip I'd give to a newly diagnosed breast cancer person. So, I'm adding to my list.

#9: Enjoy the perspective. Now, I know, that's almost "up with people" touchy-feely. But hang on, I'll get bitchy in a moment. See, here's the thing-- cancer is kind of a big deal. I mean, I have pretty much tried to go about life as normally as possible, and I've been not so bad at that (it's my low bar, but hey, I can usually clear it!), but even with me every once in awhile I do stop and think "Holy crap!! Cancer!! The Big C!!" Which also means, I think, that occasionally friends and family would also stop and say "Holy crap! Teresa has cancer! I should, like, call." This doesn't seem unreasonable. So here's where the perspective comes in-- I've been amazed at how much some people care and how continually supportive and kind folks have been. Some honest to god surprises from all corners--friends, family, acquaintances now friends, and total strangers. And then....wait for it....there are people who I would have thought cared who right now don't know if the cancer has metastazized to every organ I have and I'm in my last 48 hours of life or if I even survived surgery or if I was totally kidding when I said I had cancer. They don't know because they don't call, they don't write, they don't send flowers.... And, okay, I'm pretty cynical, but I can still be shocked by that. But eventually I came to this revelation....hey, those people weren't really friends were they?? Duh! So that's baggage that's been all cleared out. Think of it...I don't have to even send a Christmas card! How can they be irritated with me? How can I be the "bad" friend? I can't!! I had cancer!!! (Cancer wins!!!). Other relationships come into focus a bit too. If someone doesn't have much time for you when you're battling cancer....ummmm...when will they have time? I even got unexpected closure with my ex-husband. Unexpected because I didn't know I needed it. But when he gave me his incredibly crappy response to the cancer news (see January 25th posting; or just read the fine print on instructions to use of a household cleaning product for equivalent emotional experience) and I got to post it on the blog for all the world to see (okay, the 8 people reading that day)--hey, now that's closure!! So yeah, enjoy the perspective. During chemo, you don't have the energy to actually clean house (okay, I don't ever have that kind of energy), but you can do a little psychological/ emotional housecleaning. We take the silver linings where we find them.

So that brings me to the other item I'd add:

#10: You kinda gotta tell people. Alright, you dont' have to have a public blog with all the gory details (although, I promise, I've left out many gory details), and this is just my opinion (hah!! there I go!) but if you aren't telling your friends and family what's going on, you're missing out on a significant silver lining to this whole chemo nightmare-- seeing how much people care! (Um, yeah, or don't...but there's a benefit there too. You know, the part where you save on Christmas card postage.) Okay, let's be honest, what I mean is you get to get spoiled a little bit! A lot of people seem surprised that I'm still working, or going out, or dining out, or any of the things I manage to do (and again, let's be clear, I have to cancel occasionally too). For me though, I want to keep things as normal as I can and if I'm hanging out with friends, working, at a networking event, whatever (but with wine), I'm getting to just be me. Not Cancer Me. Plus, people are so easily impressed just by my showing up! And I don't think I've had to pick up a lunch or dinner tab in months. This can't be bad.

As we know (see photos on sidebar if you are unclear), I also didn't try to hide the whole "It's a wig!!" thing. I like having the different looks and I change them out quite a bit. My original thought was that I'd get the red wig as my "standard" look. I thought then that people would just say 'Wow you dyed your hair red!" instead of "Wow you are so clearly wearing a wig." And that's worked...for about 3 seconds. Because I immediately respond with "Well, it's not really my hair." And I explain that I had "the cancer" and am in chemo. Yeah, I'm not good with secrets. Or privacy, apparently. I realize this approach wouldn't work for everyone, but I can say that everyone has been extremely kind about it and it's a relief to just let people know what's going on. I adjust, other people adjust. And it's over. I don't have to worry about it anymore. It sort of spreads the burden a bit. Wait...did I just spread the cancer burden? Okay, well, in a good way. Somehow.

Breast cancer is, sadly, quite a normal thing these days. There isn't any reason to hide it. I can't imagine exerting the kind of energy it would take to hide this or not talk about it. Too much changes to be able to keep it all private. I'd be exhausted trying not to look different or heck, I'd just be exhausted trying not to look exhausted! (Okay, right, I'm lazy. More power too you if you have that kind of energy and that's what you need to do for you. Certainly, do that. Just consider another option. You might be surprised.)

10 is a nice round "top ten" sort of number thing, so I'll stop here. Unless I learn something on a par with baking soda and water for things you really must know for chemo-coping.

I'll just end here by telling you I felt pretty good today. Good enough for another cheeseburger and fries (Wendy's this time. Why am I not losing weight during chemo??? why????). I even went for a little walk with Chris and Seamus. But I'm not even going to pretend that tomorrow will be another good day. I think we all know what happens when I launch into crazy talk like that.

Top Tips from a Chemo Loser

Look! I even found a pink Loser sign. Maybe there is hope for me yet.

So for now, on with the highly anticipated, much awaited, crowd-pleasing, no one really gives a darn "Top Tips from a Breast Cancer Loser to A newly Diagnosed and Probably so Much Better Person!!!" Let me be clear--this is not advice. I'm not one to give advice--note the reference to "loser." I get it. I'm not doing this in the spectacular fashion that so many inspirational, epiphany-seeking women do. Hey, I'm just trying to get through this with the least changes possible. I'm barely figuring this out for myself. But there were some really practical things that are working for me and if it helps someone, hey, why not? If any of this sounds crazy to you....you probably have a point. But you've probably also not been through chemo. Just a guess.

In no particular order:

1) Kiehl's Centella Skin Repair Salve (my complexion still looks and feels good--even after the hives!). Chemo takes it's toll on everything--skin included. I'm not one for skin care (I'm lazy; you've figured that out right?), but it was necessary and this product has felt fantastic. For your body, I'd also recommend Arbonne's Sea Source Detox wash--particularly helpful with the hives. And moisturize. It's not like you'll have a choice. Besides, now that you don't have to shave anything, you've got all that extra time.

2) Biotene toothpaste and mouthwash. So your mouth really gets affected. Dry, sore, and well...you can't floss and you have to use a soft tooth brush, so any extra help with the teeth is appreciated. Biotene was recommended by my dental hygienist when I told her I was about to start chemo. Bless her. There are times I want to drink the bottle of Biotene, it's so soothing. It helps for a short while with the "metal mouth" also. I've heard there is a Bitotene gum, which I'd darn near kill for, but I haven't been able to find it locally.

3) Books I'd read, in the order I'd read them:
A. "Five Lessons I didn't Learn from breast Cancer (and One Big One I Did)" by Shelley Lewis. I wish I'd read this first because it gives a nice overview of what a breast cancer patient is about to go through and gives really helpful tips. She doesn't pull any punches (hey, surprise, this isn't a good experience) but she delivers the information in a humorous and informative way--so early on, when you are overwhelmed with information, you can actually process what she's saying. It's got some medical info, but that's not the main point. See C below.

B. "Cancer Vixen" by Marisa Acocella MArchetto. This may not be for everyone--it's a graphic novel (read: it's a cartoon book). But, she also really lays out her story--good, bad and ugly--and again, it's imminently readable. I continue to refer to it just to check "is this normal?" And you gotta love her pluck. Or moxie. Or aplomb. But mostly, her shoes.

C. "Breast Cancer: Real Questions, Real Answers" by David Chan, MD. Okay, for the medical stuff, again delivered in a way that's easy to process and understand, this is it. Dr. Karam gave me this book--the author is his colleague. So of course, it's a good book. But, I did read others and again, this is the one I find myself going back to. I understand he'll have an update coming out perhaps soon as well.

4) Baking soda and water. Yeah, really. Quickest cure for the inevitable indigestion gift from chemo. Take that, then whatever you normally take for indigestion. That way you'll have quick relief, followed by the more long-lasting relief. Not kidding. And really, after you spend all that money on all those prescriptions, you'll be glad I told you this. (And thanks again, dad.)

5) You're going to have to do this your way. You'll get a ton of advice. Some good. Some crazy. Some you'll want. Some....well, you'll want to slap somebody. In the end, you'll have to just do what works for you and shut out what everyone else is saying. You'll find "your people" and go with that. Chemo and the whole overwhelming "I have freakin' cancer!!!" is enough to deal with. You don't need to also be trying to live up to other people's expectations. No one has the same experience. Cancers are different, treatments are different, reactions are different...hey, people are different!! (Who knew???) So no matter what people tell you--there is no "right" way to do this. (I'm sure there is a wrong way. And I'm probably on my way to finding it!).

6) Take naps. I'm a big fan of naps even when I'm well. But with chemo--it's a necessity. I find if I can get a nap in the middle of the day, I can keep going for pretty much a full work day most days (but let me be clear--this is nothing like the hours I normally keep; that just isn't happening and I have to just let that be....temporarily!). And I usually take a nap when I get home too. You probably won't be able to help yourself, so you may as well plan for it. I got a little fold out mattress/ futon thingy and I keep it and a blanket and a pillow in my office. Somewhere around 2 ish, when need be, I close my door, fold it all out and zonk out. It's fabulous. I don't know if I'll be able to give it up. How long can I make this last?? (Just the nap part. Will "Hey, I had chemo two years ago" still work as an excuse?)

7) Let Folks help. Okay, most days I can certainly take care of myself. Slowly, but surely. I can get my meals, I can work, I can run errands. But I get tired. So when I do those things, I can't do too much else. I'm not one to ask for help, so basically I sort of feel like if I can do it why ask someone else. But I'm learning (slowly, slowly; in true loser fashion) that my friends and family want to help and it is indeed a help to have someone drop by with dinner, drive me around on my errands, take me to lunch, and such simple but important things. Then, my energy is preserved and I can enjoy...say, blogging! I think this is key to keeping my spirits up (oh god, there's that "positive attitude" approach creeping in. Darn it!!) Chris is of course fantastic about pitching in and he takes care of a lot. Sometimes I try to give him a break by asking friends (or, more realistically, accepting their offers) to drive me to an appointment or an errand or something. And I'm getting better at "yes, please do stop by with dinner"--but first that was because I realized that would give Chris a well-deserved break. I hope you have a Chris. Can that be item 8? But I'm not loaning him out. I'm a loser and I'm selfish.

8) Dr. Karam as your surgeon. Okay, that might not work if you are outside California, but honestly, consider flying in to UCLA.


That's all I've got for now. I may have more to share. I'm also thinking I bet I could do a nifty little list of "ways friends and family can help a chemo gal" (and um, things that aren't helpful). Or maybe it's more "how to help." But, is that too selfish? Probably. But I'm making the list for myself anyway. So if I'm ever on the"'helper" instead of "help-ee" side, I know what to do. It's an art. But you guys already know that.

Easter Risings

While the thought of say, Green Eggs and Ham, probably would have done me in, I was feeling good enough for Easter Brunch with Chris and his family today--Omakase, of course. It's like we're addicted; but we knew Brein and Roryann could handle whatever my stomach was doing and Chris's sister Kati's temporary vegan-ism--it was a Lent thing. It's over now. Well, hers is. My issues are alive and well. So, here we are, proof positive I was out and about 3 days after the new chemo. And yes, I was still rockin' the Britney/ Mod Squad look. What else would you wear to dine on herb salad, Croque Monsieur and almond strawberry tartlet? Exactly. Ooh, and there was homemade ginger ale, which was oh so helpful to my tummy. Even if Chris's dad was a little disturbed by the chunk of ginger in the bottom of my glass. Ginger is to the upset tummy what baking soda water is to indigestion. This is what you think about on Easter too, right? Okay, look, there are rising-ups that should be avoided on Easter. That's all I'm saying.

Before I get to the less pleasant details of this new chemo, here's Chris and his mom and sisters (okay Googlers, that would be, left to right, COURTNEY KERN, KATI KERN, TRUDI KERN and CHRIS KERN....please tell me you had figured out that last one yourself) as we strolled the Mission Inn. It's the Riverside tour; it has to be done.

So this new chemo...it's Taxol instead of Taxotere, you may recall. And I was switched to it on Thursday with, oh, about 30 minutes warning, during the stethoscope tango I was doing with the good doc. I was surprised to start feeling queasy Friday night and all day yesterday. Of all the side effects chemo brings, that just hadn't been one of them. I sort of feel like I've had my share, so I wasn't really expecting that one. But then I went online last night and looked up Taxol. Hmmm... seems that's a really common side effect of Taxol. More than the others. Gee...wouldn't that have been nice to know? Perhaps I would have taken the extra anti-nausea medicine earlier. Oh, and it causes...I'm just going to go with "the opposite digestive problem from the one I'm used to." Also, would have been good to know ahead of time. Like, say, 12 hours ahead of time. But you know, chemo is just one of those things you drop by the doctor's office for on a whim and then head on out. It's not like you need to prepare or, you know, plan for anything. I'm clearly just a big wimp. In a headscarf. (It's pretty cute though, isn't it? That's the one Gary and Rich sent).

I'm going to take the anti-nausea medicine now. Which is also a sedative (fun, fun times). So, depending on which of those two things wins out, I will either crash and sleep for the next 12 hours and therefore this is it for the blog posting, OR, I will rally, have a small dinner, perhaps even go on a little walk with Seamus (the Easter Beagle, dontchaknow), and then return to finally give my highly anticipated "Tips from a Breast Cancer Wimp Who Is Doing it All Wrong." Yeah, I know which one your money is on. (Mine too.)

In Brief...

In last night's posting I was, not surprisingly, a little too optimistic about my day today. It was a lazy day of sleeping, reading and well...not much else. That's because the new chemo has caused me to be queasy all day. Not too horrific, but I'm not exactly full of energy either. And eating has been...well, difficult. I had breakfast for dinner (yogurt) and that about sums up that. The new chemo is now Taxol instead of Taxotere...I still get the Cytoxan too...apparently words with "tax" and "tox" in them are just not good.

All that's my way of saying, I'm not really up for a blog post tonight. I was going to give some version of my "top ten" tips I'd give to a someone newly diagnosed with breast cancer. But one of those would definitely be "sleep when you need to." So, I'm just going to follow that bit of advice now.

'Night.

It's (Old) Britney, Bitch

Eh, Friday after chemo, overcast rainy day, drive to Rancho Cuc for a Neulasta/bone pain shot...why not rock the (old) Britney look. I mean, she was bald once too. Here's what I like about this wig...that's pretty much the hair I had through most of high school (right, Corby?) and, it's not an entire wig. More like a head band of hair, leaving the top bald/open (hence the hat). Much, much more comfortable. I sort of thought it was a blonde Cher look (so, I kept flipping it back behind me and doing that tongue in cheek thing she does), but I much preferred saying "It's Britney, Bitch" so that stuck. But then at the oncologists office the nurses all chimed in too (this is the 4th look they've seen) and depending on age they went with either the Britney thing or...Peggy Lipton on the Mod Squad. (And yes, one nurse said "What is that??"). Whatever the description, it was kind of a fun, comfortable look for the day.

Stacey Aldstadt gave Chris the day off and drove me to get the shot. Then she took me to lunch at King's Fish house where I had a wonderful and reasonably healthy white bean and smoked salmon soup with a hearts of romaine salad (smothered in bleu cheese...there went the healthy). Very tasty. And hey, I had an appetite on the day after chemo. This is good. Stacey even ran me by Target to pick up my steroid and Starbucks refills. Those are important these days. So obviously I was feeling good today. Fingers crossed that they've got my "cocktail" right this time. When I got home, Chris had the house all cleaned up, the dishes done, and was busy with his wine projects (have you checked out ForgettenGrapes.com this week--it's a great one, go! Go!).

Even the mailman and delivery people were wonderful yesterday and today. Chris received 3 boxes of wine (two bottles in each) from three different wineries sending him (free!!) wine to try for his Forgotten Grapes review!! And the mailman delivered a box with a Nordstrom box inside with a beautiful scarf from Gary Berg and Rich Gold to get me through, as the card said, "my follically-challenged days." Cute! It may be my Easter scarf too--beautiful aqua color. My mom sent three head scarves that she had sewn with a little padding up front (makes it more comfortable and stands it up a little--almost like there is hair underneath!). And there was another package from Trai Cartwright, a fantastic writer friend of mine and Chris's in Colorado. She was "inspired" by my blog (and me; I blush. Who knew? ;-) and had a shirt made up just for me. It's a black v-neck t-shirt with hot pink writing that says "Back off people, I have cancer!" and then has a bald woman logo!! So funny. Clearly the shirt to wear when I decide (mid-summer?) to just go bald. I'll wear it before then though--it's awesome!

The good day just rolled on when Sherry Landrum and Becky Whatley came by with Chinese food (and a stash of chips and guacamole to leave with me for later!). I'd been craving chinese food (I know, odd...Back off people, I have cancer!!....Okay, dad, had cancer. I had cancer. I have chemo.) So good friends, good food, I even sipped a little wine. (Shhhhh.) Nice day!

I'm good. I'm looking forward to a nice quiet day at home tomorrow, resting, reading, more blogging of course, and taking it easy. With any luck, my biggest stress will be picking out my Easter Brunch outfit--and hair. (Yeah, I know...we're knocking on wood here too.)

P.S. What do we think of the new blog look? The pink was wearing on me, and I thought this might be easier to read. Yes? No? Thoughts please!

Fighting Through

3 down 1 to go. Maybe...

(Please note in photo that while I managed to coordinate my entire outfit, right down to the blue Gatorade, they gave me a pink ribbon blanket! The outrage. But I was cold. I took it.)

Chemo #3 was not as easy going as #1, but not as difficult as #2. And we were still there from 9:45 to 5:15pm. So is this improvement or not? I guess we'll see what the side effects are this time. Oh, and the talk with the doctor? Interesting.

We arrived on time and they were really, really busy. The waiting room and the infusion room were packed (and not just with Easter decorations...but there were lots of those too). Since there wasn't a chair in the infusion room available, we were sort of wondering why they insisted on us coming in early. But eventually we were called back. I did get to speak with the doctor--she actually did the pre-treatment exam. But not because I called and made the special request. It was because the nurse practitioner was gone. Speaking with the doctor was a battle. I felt like I did when I was dealing with Seamus's first veterinarian oncologist (the one who told me he'd die within the year). I remembered back then saying to Chris, "Is this just two Alpha females locked in a battle for control or is she just a know-it-all bitch who doesn't listen?" I believe he correctly answered "b." This time though, I'm the patient. And I've been probably less aggressive about my own care--at least with this doctor. I think it's because I have to do battle in a paper vest.

She came bouncing in the room discussing my rash/hives situation so at least I knew she had read the file. Or the last note in the file. But she immediately grabbed her stethoscope and moved to start the exam. I backed away and said I had a few questions. She stopped, answer quickly and moved to start the exam again. I backed away and asked another question. And basically that's how the rest of the conversation went. I'd ask one question, she'd answer while moving in to start the exam, I'd move away and ask another questions, she'd answer while moving in, I'd ask while moving away. A lovely dance. I wanted to say, "Would you mind sitting down and having an actual conversation with me?" But I"m pretty sure she'd refuse. Just like she refused to let me contact her by email. Yeah, we'll get to that. We're pretty close though, you can tell that by the photo.

So here's what I learned. She does review my file. "They" email her updates when necessary. The Friday that I had the really bad hives outbreak was a bit of an anomaly in their office--two doctors were in India, she was in Switzerland and the nurse practitioner was in Pasadena covering for one of the traveling doctors. This information was only divuleged by her when I mentioned that we knew she was in Switzerland and that the nurse practitioner was in Pasadena and it was obvious the nurse had no other doctor to talk to. The conversation went like this:

Dr.: "These side effects are very common and the nurses know how to deal with them. We deal with this stuff all the time. " moves toward me with stethoscope....

Me: leaning back, "it's not common to me. And I don't deal with it all the time. And your nurse sounded like she was guessing."

Dr.: "Well we like to have you come in so we can see what we're dealing with." (moves toward me with stethoscope....)

Me: (ducking stethoscope) "I offered to drive in. It's not like I was going to work looking like that, so my calendar had been cleared. But then your nurse said the nurse practitioner was in Pasadena. And we know you were in Switzerland. And it was obvious there was no other doctor in the Rancho Cucamonga faciltiy because the nurse was having to wait for return phone calls from Pasadena. Obviously there wasn't anyone for me to come see."

Dr. "Well there's always the emergency room, but that's not a good choice." (moves toward me with stethoscope....)
Me: (bobbing and weaving) "No, it's a terrible choice. I'd just like some assurance that somebody is overseeing my case and knows what to do about it. I feel like it's all the nurses."

Dr.:"Absolutely not. I know everything going on in your case. They call and they email me with all updates and changes. I know what's going on." (moves toward me with stethoscope....)

Me: "Can I reach you by email?"
Dr.: (drops stethoscope) "Absolutely not. I see way too many patients for that."
Me: "My surgeon didn't seem to have an issue with that."
Dr.: "Sure, he only sees you five times."

I didnt' say it, but god I wanted to point out that that's 3 more times than she's seen me!!!!!
In the end, here's what we accomplished...she switched me from the chemo that caused the allergic reactions to another one that is very close, will do the same thing, but we hope won't cause the reactions. If I have the reactions again we may re-evaluate whether to do the fourth or stop at 3 (and here she said "and just go with hormone therapy"; and I reminded her that my cancer isn't hormone receptive so that would not work. She agreed. Because, you know, she's reading my file.) She also gave me samples to try to control the indigestion/ acid-reflux. She also likes the baking soda remedy (the one my dad told me about...not anyone at the doctor's office). She suggested I take the anti-nausea/sedative medicine I already have when I'm having trouble sleeping. And then suggested something for the nightsweats too. So yeah, when cornered, she communicated and addressed medical issues. I however was exhausted. You think it's easy sitting on a table in a paper vest, dodging a stethoscope while cross-examining a fast talking doctor with wayyyyy too many patients? No. It isn't. But I do think at the end, she was paying more attention and there were efforts to be helpful. We'll see. All in all, I feel like I should have stayed with UCLA. But who knows how that would have gone either.

The actual chemo time was okay. I was already tired, and it took them awhile to get us a chair. We didn't get to a chair until after 11. And actually we ended up in the private suite--which is a hospital bed in a separate room. Sounds more comfortable and it was for the part where I was sleeping, but once I wanted to sit up and have lunch and do some reading and projects, not so comfortable. And Chris just had one little chair and no one to talk to when I slept (although he was willing to pose pointing out the lovely wig display in the suite. We don't know why it's there but it is. Along with a few hats hanging on the wall). I did take the sedative this time, and I'm back to the extra dosage of the steroid the night before and this morning, and they did load me up with Benadryl and Tagamet, so I had all sorts of things that added up to my just zonking out. For a couple hours. Unfortanately, they were doing the drip slowly (worried about the allergic reaction), so the nap didn't even get me halfway through. I had the same nurse as last time, so she wasn't taking any chances.

Chatty Cathy was there again and this time she was the one having reactions--neourpathy (which as I understood it was a tingling and numbness in your hands and feet; can't be good). We didn't see much of her though, since we were hidden in our private suite. The beanie babies are still giving their lives for the cause and the Easter decor was in full bloom. But the rest of the infusion rom was different--we didn't recognize anyone else (we saw Elizabeth and her mom in the waiting room, but the were just there for a quick check-up; mom is already in radiation and doing fine). And as Chris said "It's senior citizen day." And it pretty much was.

Then finally it was all over. No reactions. A little tired, and a little hungry (although nothing really sounded good), but not much worse for wear. Until they told me I had to come back at 11:30 on Friday for the Neulasta shot (the "bone pain" shot). It was 4pm last time--it's supposed to be 24 hours after the chemo. But they are closing their office at noon for Good Friday, so I guess to hell with the medical protocol, there are chocolate bunnies to buy! That also explains why the room was so crowded. Those who normally do Friday afternoon chemo had to come in on Thursday. They have too many patients. That's very obvious. And when you know you have too many patients, why do you close for an afternoon? It's chemo people. It's not flu shots and band-aids.

So yeah, I'm fighting through the chemo and the medical system. They both exhaust me equally. But, I have a nice long weekend ahead of me (save one trip to Rancho Cucamonga for a shot in the morning) and hopefully I'm adequately drugged up to avoid any side effects. If so, we're at Omakase for Easter Brunch. Chris's family is coming out to join us. I just hope Brein and Roryann remember to put cardboard cut out bunnies and eggs, and crepe paper, and pastel colors everywhere!! Oh, wait...I hate that stuff. It makes me feel like I'm at a doctor's office.

Growin' It Out for Cancer: Month 3

Helloooooooooooooooooooooo Everybody!

Chris here for another installment of Growing It Out For Cancer.

Well, as you can tell from the title, it's month 3 of G.I.O.F.C (which just sounds dirty if you say it all as one word, so we'll skip over that from now on) and we've had some substantial growth from the last installment. Judging by the photo, I'm now over the 2 1/2-inch mark and bearing down on three inches of hair, which means I've put on about an inch since last month. I told you my hair grows fast. The bulk up top is starting to round itself out nicely and I'm getting both a nice wave on top across my part and some good bang overhang on the front. Let's take a look at some pictures of the hair from the front and the profile:













Two things: 1.) yes, that is a ray from heaven beaming down onto the top of my head. Happens all the time. I can't really help it, and 2.) there is absolutely no product in my hair whatsoever when these pictures were taken. On my mother's grave (sorry mom, if you're reading this). Anyway, from these more panoramic shots, you can really see how the bulk is starting to pile up on the top of my head (expect that only to get larger as the months crawl on) and how the front is starting to get a nice, droopy wave/pompadour style to it. The length is also starting to show in the back (it's easily resting on the edge of my shirt collar now) and, though it's hard to tell from these pictures, around the ear. The upper ear lobe is definitely being encroached and requires me to brush it back behind the ear every morning (fortunately, it stays there). It's not quite Peter Brady during the late-series episodes of the Brady Bunch, but it's getting there. Just wait until you see what it looks like in September and October. That's going to be something special.

What it is getting to, though, is the "Democrat hair" level that Teresa loves so much, and I have to say, while I'm not enamored with the front head shot (way too much bulk up top; I'm starting to look like Gumby, or when Max Headroom used to dress up like Reagan), I am kind of digging the profile, dog. The classic pompadour always looks good from the side, and I think the front and back are balancing out nicely. Not a mullet by any stretch of the imagination (lots of business in the front, but not much party in the rear yet), but really just a solid, classic pompadour. Richie Valens would be proud...

Hey, while I have you here, why don't you take a brief break from Teresa's blog and go check out my new website ForgottenGrapes.com. It was updated this morning just for you and features a profile of a brand-new forgotten grape. For those of you who don't know, ForgottenGrapes.com is a new wine website where each week we take a fun, irreverent, pop-cultury look at a wine varietal that for some reason or another has become lesser-known or uncommon among casual and everyday wine drinkers. We tell you all you need to know about the grape; what it looks, smells, and tastes like; some fun facts about it; the best foods to pair with it (thanks to Chef Brein Clements from Restaurant Omakase); and some bottle recommendations with links to reputable wine shops where you can buy the wine and try it for yourself. Because there's no better way to get to know a Forgotten Grape than by giving it a whirl on your own. We basically do for Forgotten Grapes what "Dancing with the Stars" does for forgotten celebrities.

So this week's grape is a tasty little blonde Austrian number (not Australian. Big difference) that really should be "in" instead of being so "auf." This troubles us, but we're here to make it work, people, and let you know all about it. So head on over to ForgottenGrapes.com right now and check it out right now. Go on. Teresa won't mind. In fact, she wants you to go...

(In case you didn't get the "Project Runway" references, our featured Forgotten Grape this week is the Heidi Klum of wine. And if that doesn't intrigue you enough to click over to ForgottenGrapes.com, then maybe this picture will.)




Don't forget: ForgottenGrapes.com is brand new and updated every Thursday, whether we're sober or not. Bookmark the site and make it part of your regular, every-Thursday routine, just like you do with The Dog Lived. It's part of this balanced blog breakfast.

Speaking of Teresa, we're headed in for her penultimate chemotherapy session tomorrow morning (session 3 of 4) and she'll be back tomorrow night with all the joy, pain, ecstacy, misery, boredom, awful chairmates, and suicidal stuffed animals you've come to expect from a regular Teresa chemo post. So definitely stop by tomorrow morning for that. You won't want to miss it, especially since we're supposed to see Dr. Bosserman the actual oncologist tomorrow for the first time since our initial consultation. Whether we actually see her or don't, you're not going to want to miss what Teresa has to say about it.

So that's all for me for now. Take care everyone, and I'll see you next month for another Growin' It Out For Cancer update, and hopefully every Thursday on ForgottenGrapes.com. Vaya con Dios!

Oh Be Hive.

The hives are back. And a horrible, horrible thought is creeping into my brain. It may be wine that triggers them. AAAAAAGGGHHHHHHH!!!! It also could be the wigs. And wouldn't that be ironic? But believe me, I'd rather give up the wigs than the wine. If it's the wine...expect a lot of martini talk on the blog soon.

All I know at this point is that after a perfectly nice weekend (I don't wear the wigs on the weekends and only had one glass of wine) feeling really good and getting two great nights of sleep, Monday was not so good. I didn't sleep as well Sunday night and thus was pretty tired Monday. Plus I wore the red wig and it irritated me like crazy (my little trick of trying to dry it post-wash in a way that kept the hair out of my face completely backfired; it's like I dried it especially so the synthetic hairs would seek out my eyes and nostrils and occasionally my mouth.) Then we had the wine tasting Monday night. I've been allergic to red wine for awhile, so I wasn't so foolish as to drink that. I sipped on a couple of different white wines. The day resulted in a night of restless sleep and a morning of red bumps and welt looking things all over the place again. Including on my face! Which is lovely. It's mostly the lower half of my face--my jawline and around my mouth. Yes, pleasant. And attractive. Let's not forget attractive. That's kind of my thing these days.

I calamined myself up (and yeh, that's totally a verb now), piled on the foundation, took a Benadryl and went to work anyway (blond wig with scarf as headband). After all, my blood was required again today at Quest. Another nice experience. I'm telling ya, no one knows of this lab. I wonder how they stay in business?? I walked in, handed them my paperwork, signed, and within two minutes was having my blood drawn. And the woman didn't even flinch at the red spots all up and down my arm. I am however half-expecting that these blood test results are going to show that I'm part alien.

I lasted at work until 4:30. Then I came home and took a two hour nap. Zonked out. Chris made me a very nice omelette for dinner (the only thing that sounded good to me), but now, of course, I have the elephant on my chest indigestion. Basically, just when I thought I was in the smooth sailing part post chemo 2 and pre-chemo 3, I get a day like this. Chemo is really a tricky little bastard. Sneaking up on me all the time. Relentless. And a bit heartless wouldn't you say? So right, I can hardly wait for round 3. I was told by both oncologists that the effects of the chemo would not be cumulative. Really?? Huh. Color me skeptical. And red.

Today I also talked with another patient of Dr. Karam's. She's been recently diagnosed and he put us in touch (she, wisely, asked to speak to another of his patients and I said he could give her my cell number; and she's been to the blog). I don't think I was very helpful though. Oddly, given that I've been blogging for a few months about this now, I don't think I'd ever really focused on what I'd say to someone (god forbid I give advice!!) who'd been recently diagnosed. After all, this blog is shamelessly self-absorbed and all about me. But of course, after I hung up the phone I thought of a million things I wish somebody had told me that I could have told her. I think the most useful thing I told her was that no one had told me I had to stop drinking wine, since "my" cancer is not hormone receptive (remember my 0 score?). Hers isn't either, so she was ecstatic with this news. And wisely wants it verified (Dr. Karam--you'll need to step in here! I'm not one to give medical advice--I'm like an oncologist in that regard). Anyway, when I feel better (and oddly, that will probably be this weekend...when I get the steroid high with the chemo), I think I may just have to do a list of things I'd say to a newly diagnosed breast cancer patient. Maybe. But she's in good hands for now. She's got the perfect surgeon. Maybe I should have just told her not to read the blog post about my trip to nuclear medicine on surgery day? No, then again, she should read it so awful masochist Larry does not scare her too. Oh, and I should have warned her about those very scary palm trees on the computer monitors. See? I can't even be helpful, let along inspirational!! I'll work on that. Just as soon as I'm done scratching my face off. Oh, and after my Benadryl coma.