Things I Won't Miss About Chemo

·             Weekly weigh ins

·             No hair

·             Blood nose

·             Aches and pains

·             Needle sticks and LOTS of them

·             Steroids! (= hunger)

·             Mouth ulcers

·             Numb hands and feet

·             Heartburn

·             Constant exhaustion

·             No eyebrows (drawing them on every single day)

·             Waiting, waiting and more waiting at the hospital

·             Sore finger and toe nails

·             Random toe nails turning black and falling off

·             Slow healing of bruises and scratches/bites (WEEKS)

·             Taking my temperature twice a day every single day

·             Constant worry about germs and getting sick

·             Insomnia (despite being bone tired – thanks again steroids)

Three To Go

I’ve been counting down my weekly chemotherapy sessions since early October 2017. Last night the clock ticked over to January 2018.  I’ve tried to focus only on the next one coming and then tick it off (imagine me literally ticking off a list of appointments). If I got ahead of myself and thought about 12 long weeks it was far too overwhelming. Like, take-my-breath-away-and-hide-in-bed overwhelming.

And then the other day I was driving in the car and it hit me. I’ve only got three to go. After the next one I can say at the next one that the next one will be my last chemotherapy (if you follow me). And I started dancing in my seat! I can hardly believe it! It’s nearly here! The end of chemo! In the beginning I couldn’t even imagine only having three to go! And I kind of wanted to high five myself.

I’m so darn proud of myself. I did it! Well . . . I’ve almost done it! Six months of chemotherapy where toxic medicine is pumped into my veins along with a host of other medications. Six months of willingly showing up to the oncology department at the hospital with a smile, almost excited at the prospect of ticking another session off.

Chemotherapy has consumed my life, my family’s life for the past six months. It’s basically been my job. I cannot believe that there will be a time very soon when our lives won’t revolve around chemo. What will we do with all this free time? Oh what a great thought!

Of course the journey is far from over with regards to my breast cancer treatment. This is just the first step. But it’s been a looooong and tiring step. And at the very least, I’ll be gaining an extra day in the week as Monday’s will no longer be “chemo day”. I might make it “crafting day” or “fun day” instead.

And it will likely take weeks or even months for the effects of the chemo to leave my body completely. So even though I won’t have any more, I’ll still be feeling it and will need to remind myself to take it easy as my body starts to build up and repair the damage.  

But the thought of three to go . . . it’s just . . . wow! I can see the end and it can’t come soon enough!

Progress Report

There were several times along the chemotherapy journey when I wondered if it was working. At first I obsessively felt for the lump to see if I could feel any changes. Was it getting smaller? My mind and imagination would play tricks on me and some days I would think it was smaller, some days I would think it wasn’t and sometimes it still ached and hurt.

I started visualising my tumour being stopped in its tracks, used to rapidly growing it was like the brakes had been put on and it was coming to a stop. Then I started visualising the cancer cells shrinking and dying and screaming in protest. It sounds a bit crazy right? But it was the strategy I used to calm the anxiety I was feeling. After all, maybe the pain and aching was from the cells dying?  

Just before I started weekly the weekly chemotherapy, I mentioned my fears to my oncologist. I told her I was concerned it wasn’t getting smaller and I could still feel it and should I not be able to feel it by now?

She got me up on the bed and had a feel and referred back to her notes from the initial examination. “I’m happy with that” she said, nodding her head. I cannot remember the exact word she used but she explained that tumours do start to change. They become less defined, or structured. So I took her word for it and actually stopped obsessing over it.

Nearing the last month of chemotherapy, it was time to start preparing for surgery. And it was time to have a mammogram and ultrasound. I was strangely excited. I knew it would show that the cancer was shrinking somewhat. That would be the best news I allowed myself to hope for.

After the mammogram I was lying on the bed having the ultrasound and looking at the screen as she performed it. All my years watching Grey’s Anatomy and I still can’t tell what’s what on an ultrasound screen! It all looked weird to me.

I was so surprised when after 10 minutes, the ultrasound was finished. What the? The first ultrasound I had took over an hour! “There weren’t really any measurements to take” she told me. “It all is starting to look like normal breast tissue.”

Well I think I was beaming and there was a definite spring in my step when I walked out the imaging department that day!

At my next oncology appointment, she confirmed: there was very little, if any, signs of the disease left in my breast and lymph nodes. I hadn’t even allowed myself to hope that I would get that good a response from chemo! What an amazing feeling to know that the months of getting toxic chemicals infused through my body, the sickness and hair loss and side effects have been worth it. It worked. Not only had the chemotherapy controlled and destroyed much of the cancer in my breast, but there would be no floating cells anywhere in my body. They have been obliterated.

Reflecting back to my first conversation with the surgeon about chemotherapy, I’m so glad we decided on the neoadjuvant chemotherapy (ie chemo first before surgery). I feel so grateful that I’m not blindly going on this journey. The proof is right there. Not everyone gets that confirmation like I did.