#FUCANCER

I think the title sums up my last 4 weeks better than any witty lead I could have come up with. As always, cancer is a grind, especially metastatic. There is no end, no remission, just keep going. And that is all I can do, chin up, look forward not down, embrace all I have.

You are now probably wondering, what the heck is going on that I’m willing to just about cuss in my title. Well, here’s a recap of my last 4 weeks.

On October 30th Brent and I headed to Spokane for my 3-month PET scan. I’m an old pro at these and hadn’t been feeling any issues so went in with a light heart. We always do the PET scan at my oncologist’s clinic on the day before my infusion. This reduces drive time and kills 2 birds with one stone. So, on the 30th of October. I got the scan done, Brent and I went out for a $50 movie (when the heck did movies and popcorn become so expensive???) and then crashed at our hotel until the next day. Halloween, which is already a scary enough day, gave me a trick rather than a treat. I got my blood drawn, then headed into see my oncologist before I head to infusion.  Well, I got stopped short with my scan results. The PET scan showed a new tumor on my lung, 3 of my lymph nodes in my chest are glowing bright, plus there is something in my stomach.  Treatment was cancelled for the day as we are now shifting gears, it seems that the cancer has found an end run around the treatments we had been throwing at it for years. However, this new drug may cause harm to my heart (don’t you just love how the cure might be worse than the disease), so before I can start treatment, I need an echocardiogram to have a baseline on my heart. The following week Brent and I once again head to Spokane for an overnight. Always looking for the positives, my echo came back showing my heart was strong and healthy, in fact it was improved from when they must’ve done this while I was in my 5-day deep sleep back in 2022. I’m good to go with my new treatment the next day. Since I already had a blood draw and met with my oncologist, I assumed this would be a quick in and out day. The drug should only take 30 minutes to infuse, pre-treatment should take 30 minutes, and flushing should take 30 minutes. Ahh, the old adage of assume only makes an ass of u and me, an hour and a half after arriving my doctor finally signed my orders (these are needed before the pharmacy can mix up the drug), I was then given my prep drugs which are anti-nausea and steroid. After that I could now start my chemo drug. However, since this was my first time with this particular drug, they wanted to give it to me at an extreme slow pace so they can monitor for any adverse reactions (good call remembering back to my first time in an infusion chair in Spokane). Ninety minutes later I finally can get the final flush. From when I walked in to when I walked out 4+ hours had passed, obviously my 90-minute guess was off by a bit, but as Brent pointed out, it’s not like we had anything planned that day. We got home later then I had hoped but Brent again, being mister observant, tells me “You know you aren’t going to sleep tonight”. You might ask yourself; how would he know whether or not I would sleep? Well, you see, anytime you get steroids (and a high dose of), you will be wired all night long. And that was exactly the case. If we hadn’t had company in the house I would’ve headed downstairs and done some laundry, binge watched really anything, do dishes, pretty much anything to keep me moving. But instead, I tossed and turned in bed and got a grand total of an hour and a half of sleep. The following day I couldn’t keep my eyes open anytime I sat down. The other awesome side effect of steroids, which I haven’t experienced in years, but not so fondly remember, is severe flushing exactly 24 hours after I get treatment. This flushing is so severe my cheeks are almost purple in color. Fortunately, it does go away 12 hours after it starts.  So, second night of not great sleep and there goes 4 days of my life to medical madness. Glass half full, at least I don’t have to go to work.

The party isn’t over though. On our drive to Spokane, we swung into Lewiston to get my every 3-month MRI. It was nice to be able to combine so many medical needs into one trip, and my radiation oncologist allows me to do my appointments with him via zoom. Four days later, Monday, I had a scheduled appointment via zoom with him to go over my MRI results. Now mind you, both PET and MRI have been – “everything looks great” for almost 3 years. So, I guess if it’s going to rain, it might as well just bring in the monsoon and swipe my feet right out from under me. As you can guess what I’m alluding to, my MRI came back with a new spot on my brain. To say that I had a good 15 minute breakdown is probably an understatement. A lot of people comment on my great attitude and positive outlook, but most don’t see me when I’m angry, overwhelmed, sad and terrified. I’m not embarrassed to say I run through all those emotions. I think it would be unnatural if I didn’t. So, thank you for my phone a friends that let me cry and fret. I needed to just vent and be able to move off of those emotions, but I still needed to have those emotions. Now we are scheduling MRI’s, gamma knife, and follow up appointments. For those of you who don’t remember how gamma knife works, I get to show up the night before (so yes, yet another overnight trip to Spokane), get another MRI so they have the most recent to develop the plan of attack. First, I need to get my port accessed as the MRI has a dye injection component. After the port is placed, I will go get my MRI, which is already scheduled for this Tuesday at 630PM. After all of this, I will chow down, head to the hotel and get ready to be at the hospital at 0630AM the following morning. From there they will outfit me with that awesome halo (cuz you all know I’m an angel) and get me locked into the gamma knife machine and zap away that little bastard (and any others that might have decided to join the party). This is an in and out procedure and I will be home Wednesday night. Just in time for me to attempt to elk hunt and then head back to Spokane the following week to get my next round of chemo. My heart breaks for my sweet husband who is my driver. 4 times to Spokane in 5 weeks is giving horrible flashbacks to the beginning of 2022. So, if anyone wants to buy a home in Spokane and let your favorite blog writer use it frequently, that would be great 😍

Head held high, I’m ready to continue this fight. @FUCANCER