Half Way and the End of Chemo

"Spirit lead me where my trust is without boarders, let me walk upon the waters, wherever you would call me."

I finally finished chemo on Wednesday, May 20!  One day after our 3rd year anniversary!  Charlie and I celebrated with an amazing home cooked meal with our family and a nice night at home.  It was a joyous day.  We then continued the celebration by retreating to Eminence, MO for a long and quiet weekend.  We had little to no cell service while there, and honestly it was a huge blessing to just stop and relax for a few days.  

Since I've last written, I've experienced a new wave of symptoms from chemo.  My fingernails and toenails started to die and detach from the skin.  I lost my eyebrows and eyelashes (sad day), and I developed symptoms of neuropathy in my fingers and toes.  (Neuropathy is weakness, numbness, and pain due to nerve damage in the body.)  But other than that, my symptoms stayed fairly controlled.  I was extremely lucky throughout this process and remained healthy for the majority of those long five and a half months.  My only major downfall is that I craved cheeseburgers.  I LOVED cheeseburgers and ate them multiple times a day when allowed. 

All of the side effects wore off about a month after chemo stopped and my hair is finally growing back!  Slowly, but surely, it's coming.  I've stopped wearing my wig because it was hot and rubbing off some of the new hair that was growing.  I'll still wear it occasionally, but I've found a new sense of freedom in going just as myself.  I tried hats, but they itched and hurt my head.  So all bald and bold is who I am!  Roar! 

I'll be honest.  The end of chemo was exciting, and yet it was surprisingly sad.  I found myself missing chemo.  At first I thought it was the staff I  missed, and the weekly visits I got to spend with friends and family.  But there was something more that chemo offered that I initially didn't think about.  Chemo in a weird way provided me with a sense of comfort.  Comfort in the fact that I was surrounded by people who were dealing with the same thing I was. Comfort in the fact that something was being done to help cure me and I wasn't getting worse.  Comfort in seeing my doctor on a weekly basis.  I guess I hadn't anticipated feeling like that, I only anticipated joy from being done.  It was a strange feeling.  

It's July 9 and radiation has somewhat began.  I started radiation only to find out that my body wasn't aligning correctly with the radiation machine, and we had to re-map my body.  This wasn't an issue, just slow and extremely time consuming.  I'll finish radiation treatments at the end of August.  I've heard radiation is a walk in the park compared to chemo...I'll let you know how it turns out. 

I will have a grand total of 33 rounds of radiation and I will go to the hospital every week day until finished.  After radiation is complete, I have a decision to make.  I can be put on Tamoxifen (a hormone pill) for 10 years, or take an ovarian suppressant in the form a shot every 3 months + horomone pills every day for the next 10 years.  The shot + pills is a better option in decreased recurrence rates, but it also has more side effects and will put my body in a constant state of menopause.

I switched oncologists and that has been a huge blessing as well.  My new doctor explains things to me in a way I can understand and make better decisions.  She is open to my feelings and concerns and I cannot tell you how she is like a fresh of breath air for me.  She's also extremely honest and I so appreciate this.  Before her, the only person who would tell me the truth without surgar-coating anything was my chemo nurse, Deb.  I love Deb as well.  

Now the hard part kicks in.  Honestly, up to this point, this whole process hasn't been too difficult for me. (I'm extremely lucky God has protected my mind, health, and emotions during this.)  After I switched oncologists, I finally asked her what my overall survival rate/reoccurance rate was.  My stomach dropped a little when she looked at me and said, "Are you sure?  It's not good."  Ummm....what do you mean?  I thought breast cancer was curable?  And I'm doing amazing!

While all of those things were true, I was still looking at an overall survival rate of 44%.  I'll be honest.  That was hard to hear.  I had expected a 95-100% survival rate.  I was pretty numb for 2-3 days, but then by God's grace again, I woke up one morning and felt at peace.  For some reason, if the cancer does come back and I don't beat it, I die.  That's not that terrible. (My family and husband disagree with me here.) Because of my faith, I know where I will be going and I'm not worried.  I will continue to pray for it not to come back, for this to be the only time I have to deal with cancer, but if it does, I'm totally at peace about it.  I can't fix it or change it.  Only trust God.  

Not to brag or anything...but I kicked chemo's butt.  I did.  But I didn't do it alone.  I will continue to say it, its because of my amazing support system.  Because of everyone who prayed, brought food, sent cards, gifts, words of encouragement, your hospital visits, and everything else.  My nurses and doctors still continue to be amazed at how many people I have been surrounded by during this process.  Seriously, YOU ARE ALL AMAZING!! and I'm usually brought to tears when I think of everything that's been done for us.  Thank you.  

What you can do: 

• Pray radiation goes well with limited to no side effects.
• Pray I have complete and total healing.  No more cancer, ever.

Radiation Machine

Baby Abe and I are twins.

No more chemo!!

Just another day at chemo.

 

The Mental Mundane and Daily Battles - Running the Race

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize?                                    Run in such a way as to get the prize. 

- 1 Corinthians 9:24

Chemo is nearing an end (yay!), and I've already planned a big celebration for this day!  Once chemo is finished, I'll be starting radiation.  I will have treatments every day (M-F), for six weeks.  Treatments will be short, less than an hour, and the side effects should be minimal. (That's what the doctors say, the nurses tell a different story.) There is a small possibility I can cut this time down to four weeks and receive higher doses of radiation instead.  For this I am hopeful.

Right now, chemo is boring and difficult.  It's no longer a new part of our life, rather some what of the norm.  My normal routine has become chemo on Wednesdays, and sick on the weekends.  This is the hard part.  This is the time that I'm tempted to stop. To go on without any more treatments and just be normal again.  A constant state of feeling well on one day and miserable the next day for months takes a toll on someone in a way you don't expect, nor can you prepare for.  I know this is a short time and I'm nearing the end, but some days it's really hard to continue.  My body isn't the same and it never will be the same again.  Some days you feel worn down, and other days I feel completely normal.  Now its a mental struggle to continue.

Sadness is not how I feel.  I actually still feel quite lucky.  There are several patients who are receiving the same treatments I am and they are so tired and weak that just getting out of a chair without help is a struggle.  Me on the other hand - I'm going on short runs and 5-6 mile hikes when I can.  I know the Lord has provided in unfathomable ways I could have never expected, I know I am LOVED.  There are people who don't have these blessings.  But it's still so hard.  I am six months in now, and I probably have a year left until everything will finally be "done".

I mentally tell myself I can do anything like I normally did, and then my body reminds me that I need to simmer down.  Sleeping is difficult for me right now too.  Night sweats and bloody noses wake me most nights as my body is going through early menopause.  Charlie has been gone with work a lot right now too.  And while I am beyond blessed and blown away by those who have stepped in to help while he is out, it's still hard not having him around.  I will say however, that chemo has provided (well kind of forced) so many opportunities for me to just spend an afternoon with people that I love and care about.  Time to just chat and catch up with them on their lives and for these opportunities I am forever grateful.  I wouldn't trade these times for anything.

I am going to keep running this race, and I'm determined to continue running it well.  Always remembering how blessed and lucky I really am.  Lucky that I live during a time when modern medicine can fully heal me, lucky that I still get to have a normal life after this, lucky we were able to save my future children, lucky to have so many people love me, and lucky to have a Father who has protected me from depression and blessed me with a stubborn personality.

I have six more rounds of chemo left, radiation for six weeks, and two more breast surgeries to fix everything.  Oh and my hair is kind of growing back!  Little stubblies are there, I can feel them!!  So that counts as growth.  One for team Megan, zero for team chemo!   Thank you everyone for all of your help, prayers, letters, cards, and support.  With you all I can quickly and happily answer the question I get asked every week, "Are you suffering from any depression?" with a quick and solid "NO!".   The nurses also love how many people I have brought with me to my visits.  They love getting to know everyone and can easily see how much we are loved an supported. THANK YOU!!  YOU. GUYS. ROCK!!

#noonefightsalone

What you can do:  

• Pray for continued mental strength. 
• Pray for Charlie and I's marriage, that we continue to support each other and we stay strong in our faith. 
• Pray that this is the one and only time I have to deal with cancer and I have complete healing from the treatments. 

If you want to come sit with me during a treatment, just let me know!  I would love to spend time with you, catch up, and just see you!  I go every Wednesday afternoon, 1:00 pm at Carle's Mills Breast Cancer Center.  :)

The Start of Chemo

"And whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the son.  You may ask me for anything in my name and I will do it."  - John  14:13-14

Chemo.  I'm learning how foreign of a concept it really is.  Most people know that people undergoing chemotherapy will more than likely feel "sick", lose their hair, and become extremely tired.  While for the most part, this is all true. But for everyone, it's so different.  The process of chemo is rather strange as well.  

I've had a lot of people ask me what it's like to get chemo, how long are the treatments, and how do I feel?  While I cannot answer for everyone, as chemo treatments all range in time, type, and side effects based on your diagnosis, I can give you an inside view of what's it been like for me.  

I have started receiving treatments every two weeks and I've completed the first three of four rounds of chemo and then will move to different drugs that will be administered once every week for 12 weeks total.  These first rounds have been fairly rough, but the doctors say I am handling the side effects extremely well.  My blood work has been coming back 100% normal and once the drugs are "out" of my system I feel completely normal as well.   My energy returns and the side effects dissipate.   

My first round wasn't too bad.  I became extremely tired for two solid days, food tasted weird, eating was extremely difficult, I felt ill but I never became ill, and my brain felt "fuzzy".  This lasted for around 5-6 days, and on day 7 I felt completely "normal" again.  The second round wasn't as "easy" as the first round.  I was extremely tired, my head felt like there was a million blisters from my dying hair follicles, my stomach hurt (not just nauseous), and my entire body hurt from the white blood cell booster shot.  I finally buzzed my head as it helped ease the pain from my swollen hair follicles, and then once my hair started falling out in handfuls, I shaved it off.  Now I have a nice shinny head  - it's so soft and smooth. :) 

Round three, by this point it's a mental struggle to check yourself in knowing that the drugs you're about to get are going to cause you to feel miserable for the next week.  My day usually starts around 7:00 am when I arrive at the hospital.  First, it's blood work, then a check-in with the oncologist.  After that you walk yourself into the chemo room where there is about 60 chairs in a giant room, each with their own IV machine.  I get a giant bag of saline pumped in me to help me stay hydrated, two bags of anti-nausea drugs, two tubes of red chemo drugs (I have to suck on ice while these are administered to help keep my mouth from peeling and blistering from the drugs), then after that I get one more clear bag of another chemo drug. I finally finish around 2:00 pm.

I typically leave treatments feeling pretty normal for the rest of the day and the day following until I get my nuelasta shot (the white blood cell booster shot). After that the body aches begin, my head feels fuzzy, my energy drained, appetite gone, stomach is upset, hot flashes as my ovaries are beginning to die, blurred vision from the steroids, headaches, and other things.  It's not as bad as it seems, and yet it's worse than it seems all at the same time.

The thing I miss the most though are my nose hairs.  You don't realize why God gave those suckers to you until their gone, and my nose hasn't stopped running for the last five weeks.  In all of this though, I've still been able to continue to work.  The Lord blessed me with a job that has flexible working hours, and for this I am so grateful.  Charlie and I have continued to be blessed with friends and family that remain helpful in so many ways.  I say this every time, but everyone has been amazing and we couldn't do this without them!  So thank you!!!!!

Through all of this though, my heart has been softened again. Me heart had grown cold from an old job, life events, and other things.   But the goodness that has been poured  out by so many people, people we don't even know, makes you believe there really is more good in the world than evil some times.  We have been so blessed, it's nearly impossible to be depressed or down about any of this.  :) 

What you can do: 

• Please continue to pray that the side effects are minimal, specifically that my eyes remain un- effected from the steroids.  My vision is extremely important to me.  
• For my mental and spiritual strength.  Keep these strong during the long and difficult moments.
• And for a blessing in the hundreds of people who have reached out and helped Charlie and I during this process.  They are all unbelievable!