...it's time for a boob update.
It has been several months since my last confession...during this time I underwent two surgeries on my right boob, so many MRIs and scans that I have lost count, including a bone scan that involved injection of some radioactive stuff and another scan on my boob just before surgery that involved injections of radioactive stuff around the entire nip. Of course, I was given a "numbing" injection at each injection site, which stung like a wasp sting, but I hate to think exactly how painful it would have been without the numbing first. The surgery was the easiest part of everything.
I am now three quarters of the way through the chemotherapy treatments. I guess that whatever chemotherapy is used depends on the type of cancer, whether or not, and/or how far it has spread past the original tumor, and I don't know what else. I don't know what determines the number of chemotherapy sessions one receives either. One woman told me that she had chemotherapy over a one-year period--but that was back in 1994; I figure it worked because she is still alive. My cousin Ralph's step-sister just got done with chemotherapy and said it has affected her vision and her hearing, and now must use hearing aids and closed captioning and got a much stronger prescription for her glasses. She also said her fingernails peeled off, in addition to losing all of her hair, her eyebrows and her eyelashes. She said she looks like a Martian. But my daughter's friend Melissa's mom said after seven chemo sessions, she was able to go back to work, and that she was a little tired during the treatments, but that was all. She lost her hair and wore a hat.
I am wondering what is in store for me. I knew I was going to lose my hair, so my little grandson did his "cuttie cut" with his little scissors the day before my first session. I have a "five-o'clock shadow" on some parts of my scalp, and other parts are as smooth as a baby's butt. Since wearing a wig, however, I've had more compliments on my hair (7 so far in the past two weeks) than I have since 1967, when I was in beauty school and Joyce Calbow did my hair up in big curls. I have been feeling yukky often enough that it has put a dent in my voracious appetite, and I've been fortunate enough to have lost about 11 or 12 pounds so far. If I can manage to lose another 8 or 9, I will be very happy, and motivated to try to take off another 20 on my own after the chemo sessions are over. I feel like I've lost almost a whole bowling ball from my ass, and it really makes a difference in how I'm feeling.
Anyhow, I have lab work and chemotherapy on a Thursday...from beginning to end it's about six hours. Friday I have to go back to the cancer center and get a shot...that's another whole story involving pain and suffering. The shot stings just a little, but the side effects last 10-12 days, and during that time I feel worse than if my body had been thrown into a wood chipper. This starts Saturday along with the side effect of the chemotherapy...hideous abdominal cramps that feel worse than the final stages of labor. And diarrhea, that keeps me housebound until a day or two before the next chemo session three weeks later. This is why I don't feel like eating--besides the discomfort, what's the frigging point? Plus, there's not enough time between serving food and needing to use the bathroom. And by the time I get back to the table, I've lost my appetite.
But these are just bumps in the road. I am going to get through this the way thousands of other women do every year. They are a strong group--these women. Whenever you see one wearing a pink ribbon, or a sticker on her car, you ought to stand and salute. This is a tough war, and although there are many casualties, there are still many, many survivors.
I am now three quarters of the way through the chemotherapy treatments. I guess that whatever chemotherapy is used depends on the type of cancer, whether or not, and/or how far it has spread past the original tumor, and I don't know what else. I don't know what determines the number of chemotherapy sessions one receives either. One woman told me that she had chemotherapy over a one-year period--but that was back in 1994; I figure it worked because she is still alive. My cousin Ralph's step-sister just got done with chemotherapy and said it has affected her vision and her hearing, and now must use hearing aids and closed captioning and got a much stronger prescription for her glasses. She also said her fingernails peeled off, in addition to losing all of her hair, her eyebrows and her eyelashes. She said she looks like a Martian. But my daughter's friend Melissa's mom said after seven chemo sessions, she was able to go back to work, and that she was a little tired during the treatments, but that was all. She lost her hair and wore a hat.
I am wondering what is in store for me. I knew I was going to lose my hair, so my little grandson did his "cuttie cut" with his little scissors the day before my first session. I have a "five-o'clock shadow" on some parts of my scalp, and other parts are as smooth as a baby's butt. Since wearing a wig, however, I've had more compliments on my hair (7 so far in the past two weeks) than I have since 1967, when I was in beauty school and Joyce Calbow did my hair up in big curls. I have been feeling yukky often enough that it has put a dent in my voracious appetite, and I've been fortunate enough to have lost about 11 or 12 pounds so far. If I can manage to lose another 8 or 9, I will be very happy, and motivated to try to take off another 20 on my own after the chemo sessions are over. I feel like I've lost almost a whole bowling ball from my ass, and it really makes a difference in how I'm feeling.
Anyhow, I have lab work and chemotherapy on a Thursday...from beginning to end it's about six hours. Friday I have to go back to the cancer center and get a shot...that's another whole story involving pain and suffering. The shot stings just a little, but the side effects last 10-12 days, and during that time I feel worse than if my body had been thrown into a wood chipper. This starts Saturday along with the side effect of the chemotherapy...hideous abdominal cramps that feel worse than the final stages of labor. And diarrhea, that keeps me housebound until a day or two before the next chemo session three weeks later. This is why I don't feel like eating--besides the discomfort, what's the frigging point? Plus, there's not enough time between serving food and needing to use the bathroom. And by the time I get back to the table, I've lost my appetite.
But these are just bumps in the road. I am going to get through this the way thousands of other women do every year. They are a strong group--these women. Whenever you see one wearing a pink ribbon, or a sticker on her car, you ought to stand and salute. This is a tough war, and although there are many casualties, there are still many, many survivors.
posted by Cinnabitch | 5:47 PM
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