Wednesday, February 21 – Today would have been my last chemo infusion

Two weeks since my last chemo infusion and I want to feel normal. I don’t, just feel tired, with numb fingers and toes, and no taste buds, no eyebrows and a swollen face still. Everyone in Support Group last night was very supportive, and told me it will take time, a long time. I want it now. I don’t know why I am so impatient. I also told them how moving forward in my treatment plan is exciting but scary as well, being a triple negative person. Most in my group have follow up therapies for the hormone receptive or HER2 cancers. Once I am done with radiation, that’s it. Just follow up scans and appointments to check on me. Grace, who works at Kaiser, told me that she works with a surgeon there who is a 17 year survivor of triple negative cancer. That helped! I can be one of those statistics, one that lives a very long life after triple negative breast cancer.

One of the gals in my support group did tell me why my nose runs so much. She said her Oncologist told her when she was lamenting the impending loss of her hair, that she would miss her nose hairs more, as her nose would run all the time. I looked at her and said is they why my nose runs so much and why I am going through Kleenex like I own stock in the damn company? She laughed, and said yup!  As soon as your nose hair grows back it will stop running so much.  So there is that fun little tidbit of information. Be thankful for your nose hairs, it keeps you from having to constantly wipe/blow your damn nose. I wonder if my eyes constantly watering are from my lack of eyelashes?

Sandy who is two years ahead of me on her diagnosis of triple negative BC is going for her two year tests in the next month.  She told me she is basically a vegan now; as her oncologist told her diet is her only way of combating recurrence. Not sure I can go Vegan, but I can concentrate on a more vegetarian diet. Hubby might like that as well. Once I have the energy to cook again.

As I previously indicated, primary surgery is set for March 16th. Dr. Goldberg’s office called me today to let me know they are trying to secure March 22 or March 23 OR time for my reconstruction/reduction/lift. They did tell me I would not be ready for travel by the weekend of March 30th. I will still be very uncomfortable. This has made me slightly depressed today. I was so looking forward to being able to see my family for our Passover holiday observance. Now I just want to cry. I am trying really hard to not let this disappointment get me down, but I seem to be fighting a losing battle. I just want to mourn the fact that I have become a prisoner to cancer the past 5 months, and just when I had a glimmer of respite, cancer foils the day again. Fucking boob! I didn’t even want to get dressed after they called me. I have stayed in my PJ’s all day.

I know I have so much more to be thankful for, and there will be time soon when I will be able to travel again, even drive myself. There will be a time when my brain will not always go “squirrel” and I completely forget what I am doing, while I am doing it! I know I will be able to see my family again, and I won’t have to worry about my compromised immune system and this horrid flu season. (This will be the first thing I can stop worrying about!) I know there will be a day in the near future when I will be able to taste again, and eventually my fingers and toes will feel normal. But today, today I am just sad that once again cancer rules my life and something I was looking forward to doing is now out my grasp.

Hubby tried to make it better by promising me a trip before I go back to work. We will finally scatter his Dad’s ashes in Pennsylvania and we can swing down to South Carolina to visit with my family there before coming back home. He wanted to give me something to look forward to, and yes, that sounds wonderful, but it has not helped remove the grey blanket that has draped my heart today. Tomorrow will be a better day. I will be excited about my perky new boobs I will have at the end of the surgeries. I will look forward to the end of my treatment, and having hair to play with again, and being able to take myself for a drive around the bend with the top down. Tomorrow, not today.

Life is about tomorrows

 

2 thoughts on “Wednesday, February 21 – Today would have been my last chemo infusion”

  1. Since we talked about all this last night, there is nothing here I haven’t already heard. I just want you to know how proud I am of your brave battle that continues through to its conclusion. Throughout this ordeal you have been mostly positive, upbeat, and displayed your amazing sense of humor. You have not given way to the sadness and fear that creep up on you from time to time. You have faced whatever treatment and side effects they bring with courage and determination, never losing sight of the end goal of a complete healing. Being so far away in physical distance has been very hard but reading your blogs and talking on the phone have been extremely helpful in keeping me focused as well. Knowing that you have a wonderful support system along with the prayer warriors all over the place, helps me to feel better about not being able to actually see you in person. I am excited to be seeing you in another month when we can hug and kiss each other for real rather than virtually. I sent you a copy of my itinerary and we can talk about it before the actual date. Keep your chin up, honey. It’s all going to be better sooner than you think. LYTTMAB!

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