Chemo Brain?

I don't really think I have chemo brain, but I did forget two things last night. One, these were our fantastic seats at Angel Stadium:

Thanks to GUY and LAUREEN PITTMAN who have fabulous season tickets.

And two, you only have 3 days left to vote in the hotly contested "when should Chris cut his hair" poll. If you like the Jay Leno look, well you may be in luck since RORYANN CLEMENTS seems to be running a successful campaign to keep Chris in curls until December. If you prefer the Vince Gill look, well, you should start voting so Chris can cut his hair sooner. (He saw two friends last night who both greeted him with a command: "Haircut!!" Way to keep up on the blog, guys.)

Vote on the sidebar to the right (you have to scroll down a bit). And vote right.

An Angels Anniversary (it was all A's)

Be warned--if you are looking for some sad, crazy, or even funny cancer treatment story you've got the wrong blog today. Yeah, sure, this is a blog about my cancer "odyssey" but I took the day off from cancer. Instead, it's a happy little post about Chris and me celebrating our five year anniversary. June 12, 2004 was our first date--at an Angels game. So, June 12, 2009 found us back in the Diamond Club at an Angels game (that's why we are dressed alike. We don't normally do that. I promise. And wow, isn't Chris great at those arm in the air self-photos?) You can tell it was a special occasion because I'm in drag (hair and eyelashes! This was big!)

Our first date was a lot of fun (yeah, um, that's why we kept dating) and it also marks the anniversary of me learning the term "cougar." (I've now perfected my knowledge. Ahem.) There were a pair of cougars in the seats in front of us at that first game. This time, there was a family of four (note back of heads; ladies--do not do this to your hair. And this is coming from a woman who has no hair). Both times however, there were obnoxious drunk guys behind us. Ah, public sporting events. But the Angels were kind enough to win for us, and Angels Stadium set off a bunch of fireworks--just for us, we're sure. I like these times when I get to return to normal, however briefly. And nothing says normal like bad dye jobs, drunk guys and fireworks at a baseball game. I may have been a little more tired than normal, and "in drag" but it was a great night out with a fantastic man who doesn't care if I'm in drag, or bald or fighting cancer, or cranky, or any of those things I've been in the last several months. Which is why mostly what I've been for the last five years is lucky.

Oh, and Chris didn't even mind that for the second time in 5 days a stranger came up to him and commented that he looked like Jay Leno. He didn't even mind when drunk Angels fan asked him to do a Jay Leno impression (yes, he did it and yes, it's very good). When his hair is long, people think he looks like Jay Leno. When it's short, Vince Gill. You decide. To me, he's all Chris. And all mine. ;-)

Wrapped Around My Head

Some good stuff...some not so good. Where to begin?
Okay, the not so good. I mentioned to the doctor yesterday that I was feeling pretty tired. I was still thinking (hoping) that it was just tired like normal people--work, stress, all that. But no. He said I am definitely at the stage where I'd start to feel the effects, and that the fatigue will increase before it gets better. As he explained, much like chemo, the radiation attacks "good" tissue along with the bad. So my body is exerting a lot of energy battling that. Makes sense. But so why isn't my body burning a lot of calories???

Then this morning post-shower it was very easy to see where I'm being radiated. Exactly where. There were "tan" lines forming. But it's sort of tan lines in reverse. I'm darker in the area that is usually covered by a bathing suit. I could see the diagonal line across my upper chest wall. Then after this morning's radiation (12 down!! Lucky 13 tomorrow) the treated area was a little sore. Like some one punched me there. But also, there are little shooting pains. Nothing unbearable. And it isn't persistent. Just enough to let me know the side effects are beginning. Luckily, there is a weekend right around the corner and I'll get a couple days break from the zapping.

On the brighter side, I decided I'm not liking the wigs too much these days so I may just switch to the scarves when I can. So I wore just a scarf today--which also allowed me to conclude my scarf-tying demonstration at the radiation center with a live demonstration (hey, we're all bald; no one is shocked if I take the scarf off and tie it again...step by step.) Later I went to a luncheon at the Convention Center (Leadership Riverside graduation) and was still wearing only the scarf (no hair). Turns out a lot more people can recognize me in the scarf than can in the red wig. And there is a new standard response to chemo/cancer patient that gets added to my collection. Right there with "You're a strong person, you'll do great" and "You have a pretty face, you'll be fine when you lose your hair" we can now add "It's not a look everyone can pull off but it works on you." Which really sounds a lot like a back-handed compliment doesn't it? But three different people said a variation of that to me. I kind of like the scarf look. If it doesn't remind me too much of living in chemo-land, you may still find me doing that even when I have hair.

And speaking of hair...which I do a lot these days, I know... I had to shave my legs today!! I noticed that there actually was hair there, not just stubble. But it was mostly blonde so not totally obvious. 6 or 7 weeks post-chemo and it's growing back. Also, I bet you never knew that eyebrow stubble is itchy. Yeah, I didn't know that either. Now I know.

My head (on the other hand?) is just about at 5 o'clock shadow stage. It's fuzzy. Chris and I both tend to rub it and we are ridiculously prone to quoting various versions of "Fuzzy wuzzy was a bear...."as we do so. I consider this progress.

Radiation Ramblings

1/3 finished with the last 1/3 of my cancer treatment!! Woo Hooo!! Okay, yeah, so I need to find little markers along the way to make myself feel like this will end soon. But that's a pretty good one don't you think? I see this "odyssey" as 1/3 diagnosis and surgery, 1/3 chemo and 1/3 radiation. So now I'm through with 11 of my 33 radiations--the final one-third. In just over 3 weeks, I will be through this! (Have I mentioned there will be a party?)

This morning, I have to say, was kind of fun at the radiation center. Fun? Yeah, it was. They were a little backed up so there was some back-up in the waiting room. The usual crowd, minus Mrs. 8:45 (I suspect she got in and out early and they took a little break because um....I was...um...barely on time). So I took a seat in my hot blue hospital gown and very quickly was joined by Ms. 9:15 and then a woman I've seen several times before who is always in a blonde wig but doesn't seem to have a "normal" appointment time. (Oh, and for the record, I can't tell if the 9:15 appointment is the woman there this morning--who is usually in a newsboy cap only--no wigs for her-- and very friendly, or the guy who wears a type of hat I always associate with fishing; they both seem to always be there by the time I get done with my appointment). Anyway, we three women were in our lovely blue gowns when newsboy cap and I struck up a conversation about our matching attire, which led to why the women were all in gowns but the men weren't. After a little discussion we discovered we were all breast cancer patients. And that allowed us to quickly realize that the men were getting radiated a little bit lower and that the hospital gowns would create an entirely different issue for them. And um, for us. We're kind of grateful they aren't in gowns.

Next, newsboy cap, blondie and I (I was a redhead today) discussed hair choices and eventually newsboy cap asked me how I tied the scarves the way I did (i.e. like a pirate, or a gypsy, or a biker...depending on your viewpoint). I spent a few minutes trying to explain it--with quite exaggerated hand movements combined with bad directions as I am wont to do, and she kept laughing and saying "stop! wait! I have chemo brain!" We actually were laughing quite a bit. Unfortunately, they came out to get me for my radiating time before I could be sure she understood and a scarf-tieing fashion show does not slow down the radiation machine. But I told her I'd bring a scarf next time and we'd go over it again. Frankly, I'm thinking she has the right idea--scarves and hats sure, but I am tiring of the wigs. Especially as my little tiny hairs start to poke out on my head. It's getting a little itchy!

After radiation (where the therapists once again commented on my shoes--they don't think they've seen the same pair twice. I'm not sure I can keep that up....but darn it, now I'm likely to try!!), much to my surprise, it was time to see the doctor. That normally happens on Thursday. But my doctor is on vacation so there is another doctor covering for her and he's in on Wednesday. Turns out he was also a really nice guy. And he gave props to my surgeon. Yep, he was super impressed with the scar from my surgery. Once again, kudos to Dr. Karam!! This is pretty much the only time a woman can take her top off (speaking of pairs) and be happy when the first response from the man in the room is "Wow, nice scar!!" He said he'd seen a lot of surgery scars and they can be a mess, but mine was nice, clean, straight and looked like it would fade away nicely. Oh, and so far my skin is tolerating the radiation nicely. He wasn't even too bothered by my excess suntan. He just said "We like to do the suntanning around here, so try not to beat us to it." So noted. And I gave the sunburn an extra dose of aloe vera. The doctor and I chatted for so long eventually the nurse came to break it up. It makes such a difference when the doctor actually cares.

Sure, I'd rather not be there, but if I have to be in a medical appointment every morning, it's good to have such nice, funny and interesting people there with me.

Double Dogs Double Digits

Alright so the photo is double dogs, but you have to admit that's cuter than double digits. That's Seamus and Nellie (Michelle Ouellette's dog; both dogs are rescues from the Riverside Humane Society Pet Adoption Center)--they terrorize and totally deserve each other. And they both love Will. Who is not in the photo. He was likely just trying to catch a break from these two.

But back to the double digits: I've now been radiated 10 times. And as Holly noted in the comments, apparently that's much like when a kid turns 10. It's just a number with some significance. I feel like I've accomplished something, even though I'm not yet 1/3 done with the last 1/3 of my treatment (that will be tomorrow!). The sweet little old lady who is radiated before me (you know, Mrs. 8:45) came out and said "That's 10 down!" So, apparently we all think it's a big number. (By the way, she "only" has 25 radiation sessions--8 less than me, so she's even more excited about getting through 10.)

I was pretty tired this afternoon and seriously considered a nap. There was just too much going on in my office. And I had a strategic planning committee meeting for the Humane Society also in my office at 5, so there was no time for a nap. I can't quite tell if this is tired from the radiation or just general tired that I'm feeling. It does feel vaguely like the "hit the wall tired" chemo-fatigue, but who knows. Nothing I can do about it so I won't trouble myself thinking about it. I mean...more than I just did.

Here's more Matt Lauer for you. This is the link from this morning's Today Show cancer coverage: The Financial Cost of Cancer. And speaking of that...I got a call yesterday from the chemo oncology place I was going to. Turns out they owe me a refund. I knew they would. I knew they were off in what I would owe as my 20% since I knew I'd hit my maximum with the surgery. It took them a couple of months but they figured it out too. So, they've put a check in the mail for a few hundred dollars. That'll cover a mai tai or two come December. Alo-ha-hahahahahahah!!

Bad, Bad Patient.

I thought for a moment that they were going to refuse to radiate me. I thought I was going to have to add one more day at the end (July 13th hung in the balance!). See, once I was in my blue hospital gown, or, more to the point, once I was on the radiation table with the gown off and my top half exposed, it became very obvious that I had screwed up. I'd violated one of the "must not" rules. The one were I must not be in direct sunlight. Yeah, ouch. Sunburn. And it was such an amateur mistake--of course I can get sunburned on an overcast day. Of course I can. I know this. I just was way too relaxed enjoying the nice day in Michelle's beautiful backyard garden on Sunday wearing a t-shirt that was more scoop necked than it should have been and not at all thinking about being radiation girl.

The radiation therapists were not amused with me. They pointed out that I had gotten a little sunburn in the treated area. And just to make their point, once I was lined up in the green laser lines, they then drew on me again. Not-so-little dashes so I could see how big the radiated area is. Suffice it to say v-neck, scoop neck, tank and of course strapless tops are completely out for the next couple months. I learned the hard way. But they did proceed with the treatment. I have a feeling though that if it had been later in the treatments where my skin was damaged more, they may have made me wait. I have the damnedest time remembering I'm a patient.

Before I left for radiation this morning I did catch a bit of the Today show (big Matt Lauer fan, I must admit). They had a segment on, basically, what to say to a friend or family member who's just been diagnosed with cancer. Turns out I'm not very original. The cancer patients they interviewed all said pretty much what I'd said in an earlier post. So much for my brilliant insights. But here's a link to the segment (or just to Matt Lauer, if that works for you). Today show: Reaching Out to Someone with Cancer. They are doing a series on cancer topics this week. Tuesday morning will be a look at the financial cost of being diagnosed with the disease. Oh yeah, that'll be a good one. I'm just stacking up all the insurance notices at this point because I somehow think someday I'm going to add up the cost of treatment, both what insurance covered and what I covered. I'm well past my deductible and co-pay maximum. I'm sort of "lucky" that my diagnosis came when it did--all of my treatment will be in the same year, which means only one deductible and one co-pay maximum. Phew.

Anyway, now we are at 9 radiations down, 24 to go. Tomorrow I hit double digits!

Hairy Sundays

As promised...the hair watch continues on Sunday. No, not Chris! My hair. Yep, I have hair. Okay, well, like two hairs, but it's hair!! I like to think of this as a five o'clock shadow, but Chris says it's more like a noon shadow. Still, there are signs of hair growth. It's at a stage where it's hard to stop rubbing it. There's just something about the fuzziness. Chris seems to like rubbing it too--so of course I have to then worry that we'll rub it off. At any rate, things to note besides just the general appearance of hair stubble: first, it's definitely darker, and second, no signs of "curliness" yet. Too early I'm sure.

Oh, and if you ever wondered what eyebrow stubble looked like, well, now you know. The part of the eyebrow closest to the nose, that looks like a shadow or a bruise? Yeah, that's new hair growth. It's hard to get a
picture of that and it's even harder to get a picture of eyelash stubble, so you'll just have to trust me, it's happening!

So other than the ever fascinating hair watch, how are things going? Well, not bad. Thanks for asking. I feel pretty good and so far haven't felt the effects of the radiation. I did sleep in until 9:30 Saturday morning, but that's a good thing. I needed that! I don't think it was so much from radiation fatigue as just fatigue from getting up and getting to radiation Monday through Friday. Anyway, after an early afternoon visit from my dad, I went into the office for all of Saturday afternoon and on into the evening. Sunday (today) was a nice day at MICHELLE OUELLETTE'S in her beautiful newly landscaped Provencal-like backyard for our writer's group meeting, which is not really what's important about Sunday. What's important is that Seamus got to run and play with Will and Nellie. Seamus heart Will (and Seamus tolerate Nellie; they have a dominance battle going on). The top photo is of the boys--Chris, Seamus and Will looking on. It's days like today that make me almost forget I'm a cancer patient.

So Much for My Timeline

I was right to worry about the lightning when I was being radiated.

Today was the first time I had to really race out the door to be sure to be at my 9a.m. appointment. And when I got to the little waiting room outside the changing rooms, I saw that it was full. At first I thought perhaps someone had brought their entire family to their radiation session but then I realized an awful lot of those family members were attired in those little blue hospital gowns I've become so familiar with. Huh. Backlog of folks in need of radiation has occurred. No need to have rushed. I went ahead with my little drill--changed my clothes, slipped on the sexy gown and locked my belongings in my locker (I always choose locker #2). But then the routine changed. There were no chairs available! I had to stand, backed up against a wall. And I don't know why, but it seemed sort of pathetic (and just wrong) to be in a small room filled with hospital-gowned folks, standing up against a wall.

I had noticed previously that in chemo everybody chats. Well, that makes sense since we're stuck together for hours and pretty much staring right at each other. But in radiation, you're there for such a short period of time that most people just grab a magazine or just sit chatting with whoever drove them in, but there isn't a lot of talking with strangers (i.e. the other patients). This morning there was plenty of time to chat. Turns out the lightning had zapped the machine overnight (0kay, well, it affected the electricity; close enough) so when the nurses got in they had to get the machine going and apparently somehow there is water involved and the water had to be warmed up. So in the waiting area with me was the 8:15, 8:30 and 8:45 appointments (I'm 9) and by the time I went in (at 9:40) the 9:15, 9:30 and 9:45 patients were there as well. Because as fate would have it, today was Thursday which is also the day all the patients see the doctor. So each of us had not only the extra wait time, but the extra time with the doctor. So this time, I definitely wasn't at work by 9:15. More like 10.

At any rate, there was chatting amongst the inmates. I learned from Mr. 9:15 that he has twice had to miss radiation altogether because the machine was down for some reason or another. That means he picks up those two days on the end.

What??? This means my perfectly scheduled "radiation ends on July 10th" edict may not be. And sure enough, I asked the nurses if the office was closed on Friday, July 3rd. It is. Good news is I get a three-day break from radiation, bad news is that's one day added at the end already. As of today, my finish date is July 13th. And that makes perfect sense--there seem to be a lot of 3's and 13's involved with my breast cancer odyssey--including for those of you with really, really good memories, the fact that I was research subject #13 back at UCLA in January when I volunteered for a study, and that the post-op pre-chemo boobie bash was on February 13th, my head-shaving was on March 13th, and my first meeting with the oncology radiologist was on May 13th. Ending the radiation on July 13th makes perfect sense (I really don't want to extend it by a day or two, so I'm hoping that there aren't any more machine malfunctions!).

In other news, Save the Tatas had a link to an ABC report on the 10 year old girl who was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy. I have mixed feelings about this report--first, Save the Tatas posted the link because the little girl is wearing one of their shirts in the video and I don't know, that seems rather mercenary on the Save the Tatas group's part--they point out that it's their shirt so you feel like maybe they wouldn't have been supportive--or noticed?--if the little girl had been in just a regular shirt. And then again, as usual, the reporter is quite focused on getting a tear-jerker story and pushes the little girl about "why" she's sad when it's clear the girl is barely holding back tears--having just shaved her head because of the chemo. I don't think the reporter needed to question why the girl was sad and make her vocalize it (and hence, cry). The sadness was all quite clear in the story. Even I (not a hugger; really, really not a hugger) wanted to hug the poor little girl. Forget the adults around her the little girl is a winner and I will admit it....I teared up. Just a little, but I did.

Here's the link directly to the ABC video. Get your tissues ready.

http://abcnews.go.com/video/playerIndex?id=7743606

PS. Remember to vote in the sidebar to the right (and now choices 1 and 3 are actually only 6 days apart given the new timeline, but hey, it's still important!).

PPS. Then remember to check out www.ForgottenGrapes.com for the new posting on a wine you may not be too familiar with (you can just click right there on the address and voila' you will be there!).

PPPS. That's it. I'm done. You're on your own now.

A Cup of Sugar

6 Down. 27 to go.
Yeah, this could get monotonous. Radiation doesn't have the same death-defying excitement of chemotherapy. Maybe in a couple of weeks when my skin starts to burn and turn ugly colors and textures. Then the excitement will return. Instead though, it's Wednesday, so I've made it in to radiation by 9a.m three mornings in a row and hence, I'm tired. I even took a nap at work today--and I haven't done that in several weeks. Perhaps I'm not ready to be back to a reasonably full schedule ( I went out with a friend Monday night and then last night was at a "Citizen of the Year" banquet, and I'm pretty much working at least the full eight hour days).

I do however have more things to tell you about my radiation. Folks keep asking what the radiation dosage is, how long it takes and whether it's "low dosage." And, um, I don't know. I'm sure they told me but I'm also sure I decided it wasn't information I needed to keep in my over-crowded brain right now. As long as the doctor knows, I'm good. I tried to count (one Mississippi two Mississippi three....) how long each zapping was but they seemed inconsistent to me, so I finally asked. And the radiation nurse told me it isn't about the time, it's about the dose. So I'm zapped for as long as it takes to get 180 ....um....I think she said centigrams. (Dad...I know you'll let me know the correct measurement; and then demand repayment of some of that tuition money you wasted on me). She said to think of it like pouring a cup of sugar. It's not how long it takes, it's just done when you get to a cup.

Today I was hoping my cup would fill-eth quickly. It was raining, which is weird in June in southern California, but okay. But then the really loud freaky thunder and lightening started. And I'm sure they are prepared for things like this and have generators and I don't know, shields, or whatever, but I have to say I found it a little creepy to be laying all alone exposed on a radiation bed being zapped by green lasers shot from a giant machine while the sky lit up, thundered and rattled outside. I expected to be turned into a hamster or a mewing little kitten. As far as I know, that didn't happen. We'll see if I howl at the moon tonight.

In other really monotonous but totally exciting to me news--I now have not only skull stubble and eyelash stubble, but eyebrow stubble-- which is actually pretty ugly. It looks like I have dirt where my eyebrows should be. I'm looking forward to getting past the stubble stage. No telling how long that will take. I will of course, keep you posted.

Tomorrow's radiation visit includes a visit with the doctor herself. And my first exam to see how the breast is weathering this attack. I think it's okay so far. A little tender at the incision site (oh! I now know that the area "inside" the breast where the tumor was removed is referred to as the tumor bed. Which just cracks me up for some reason). And I'm, as I mentioned, tired, but so far so good I think.

And the radiation nurses always love my shoes, so there's that.

Too Good to Post

Okay, don't worry about me. I didn't want to go two entire days without posting because that seems to cause folks to worry about my self-absorbed and wordy self, but I'm also tired and don't have (thankfully!) much to post about. I had radiation number 4 today (29 to go!!) and I was even a few minutes early (8:55a.m!). Not bad for a Monday morning. We've got it down to where I'm in my office by 9:15 all radiated and everything. Not bad at all.

But I also went out with a girlfriend tonight after a busy day in the office and I've got to be up early and back on the radiation table tomorrow, so I've got nothing left for you. The good news is that's because in a way, I'm feeling too good to post to the blog tonight. Because there is no crisis and no complaints and not really any news....

Except this-- I officially have "skull stubble"!!! The hair has definitely started its comeback. Not that you could tell, but I can definitely tell. As can Chris. We asked Seamus for his opinion, but he honestly doesn't care. That's part of what's so great about dogs.