You Are Done, Right?

No. No, I am not.

I have now had 2 herceptin only treatments.  Every 3 weeks until October, I will have them.  All a long I thought it was 12 herceptin treatments.  Nope, it is 12 MONTHS of herceptin treatments.  A big difference.

The herceptin infusion seems easier.  My personal side effects are just fatigue and general crabbiness that lasts a day or so.  Much easier than the 5 to 7 days of recovery after a chemo treatment.  Also, I have started my tamoxifen pill.  This pill is what will block my estrogen, since my cancer likes to grow and live in estrogen rich environments.  I will be on it 10 years. I am also in the major throws of medical induced menopause.  I certainly did not see that coming at age 41.

I cannot lie, the tamoxifen scares me.  The reason is totally 100% vain and obnoxious; it is weight gain.  While my physician assures me there is no well controlled study that concludes tamoxifen leads to mid-section weight gain, it happens.  This really pisses me off. I don't want to gain any more weight. I'm working hard at losing all the weight I have gained with chemo.  In 6 weeks, I've lost weight and inches.  So, I am on the right track.  Now, I have to take this damn pill. Hrre is how it works:

Then comes that little voice in my head.  "Kim, you have a cancer that is treatable.  You are not terminal.  Be thankful for that.  Who cares about a little weight?"

I get it; in the grand scheme of cancer crap, I seem to be treatable. I am beyond thankful for that.

But, it doesn't change that I had a real break down last weekend, because I do NOT want to gain anymore weight. I want to go back to normal for me. I want to go back to running, fit in my clothing again, have my sense of self back.  Apparently, I am a lot more vain than I thought.  Not vain as much as, the added weight makes it harder to run; my want to run is waning because it is harder with the weight.

As I go down the rabbit hole of self pitty, there is a glimmer of pre-cancer Kim.  I saw her on Saturday at yoga.  I looked over my shoulder and saw me in a high lunge.  Near perfect alignment, strong legs, flexible.  And I was happy with me and what I have accomplished.  I know I can get back, my fitness level I have let slip.  Knowing I have to take a pill that may possibly add weight to erase that work, infuriates me off.

Here are a few other topics to update....

Foobs.
My foobs and I have been having issues. Good stuff like a little more sensation, and control.  However, bizarre things like, I went to open a door and my entire right side of my foob flexed.  I felt like a body builder flexing her pec, but I was just trying to open a door.  I still have enough room for the third foob.  I cannot wait for that to eventually be fixed.  Wearing bras is something I am trying to work with.  Every bra strap hits Lucifer (the port) on a bad spot.  If I wear a sports bra that is too constricting, the foobs and Lucy hurt.  I need to find something, but do not want to spend too much, as I will need new stuff in October anyway.  LOL!  I am in foob purgatory.

Chemo brain.
It is real and it sucks.  I simply cannot recall so many things.  I hear it gets better, but if I see you or talk to you and forget it, I'm already sorry.  I try to keep a list of things, then I forget where I put the friggin list.  Then I begin another list, and lose it.  See my issue?!

Focus.
I have a MAJOR lack of focus, that is a side effect of chemo brain.  I will step away from my work desk to go get coffee.  On the way to the kitchen, I will realize I need something from upstairs, then I come back downstairs.  I pass the bathroom and decide to go, then realize I need to switch laundry, go do that, realize I need to change the hand towels in the bathroom, go do that.  Decide to wipe down the bath counter top, enter kitchen for Clorox wipes, see the dishwasher is full.  Empty dishwasher.  Then wipe down kitchen counter, remember I wanted to wipe down the bath counter top.  Then sit back at my desk.  Go to get a sip of coffee, and my cup is empty. This is my problem.

Hand Issues,
As a side effect of the chemo, I am having hand issues.  Swelling, lack of sensation, strength, etc.  I have burned my fingers a lot recently and my fine motor skills have been off.  I cannot lie, I thought I was experiencing a weird neurologic thing. Nope, side effect.  It may last about 6 months or more. If you see me without my wedding rings on, I assure you Jeff and I are still swimming on our wedded bliss.  It's just my fingers are swollen.

Hair.
It's growing!!! I decided to use some of CC's hair chalks on Easter for a little fun.This is 6 weeks after my last chemo treatment.

I think that catches me up on my stuff.  I have been hesitant on writing the last few weeks due just because I was feeling whiny.  I hate to post "woe is me" posts. I know people have things a ton worse than I do.  There are people sicker than I and who the hell am I to complain about weight and swollen hands.  I acknowledge my issues are a drop in the bucket, however I have been reminded to validate that my issues are real and do affect me.  Even if a swollen hand will not kill me, it's still a pain in the ass when you cannot button you son's pants for school.

Chemo #6 Re-cap

**Warning- this post is all over the place**

Chemo #6- over and DONE!!!!! Unfortunately, I was able to be lucky enough to develop a horrible case of bronchitis during it all.  So, two weeks later, I am NOW finally feeling better. Thank goodness!!!  I swear bronchitis has been worse than the chemo itself.  Furthermore, the lingering cough can leave at any time.  Really, leave.  I am so tired of coughing (and feeling like I need to wear Depends while I cough).  I'm over it all.

My mind feels clearer and my taste buds are coming back!!! But for now, let's recap number 6.

The morning before #6, I pulled out my trusty chemo notebook and wrote the following:

 

 
Like my lovely art? Yea, I know, I'm awesome.  But, these 4 things are how I wish to celebrate.  I closed my notebook, placed it in my chemo bag, and Jeff and I drove off to chemo #6.  On the way, I received some lovely emails and messages wishing me well.  Thanks to all who sent great vibes.

I was lucky to have a lot of visitors on chemo #6, as well as my chemo posse who keep chairs 19 to 23 fun.  There is a group of us who have the same seats every chemo.  We are our own little group.  On chemo #6, we had a new member.  As much as I love people, and new friends, I hate that she was seated in chair 21 next to me.  Her stupid cancer decided to come back.  She was now doing chemo for the second time.

It was at that moment, my world halted.

Relapse.

That word never ever dawned on me.  Until I met chair 21.

She was so upset to be back in the chair -- I mean who wouldn't be.  She is younger than me, her breast cancer a little different than mine, but also HER2 positive-- like me.  Crap.  We all offered our support and kind words.

Here I am celebrating last crappy "hard" chemo, and she's starting it all over again.  This was a reality that I did not want to see.  Chemo is supposed to kill this all.  The double mastectomy is supposed to make it all go away.  It's not supposed to spread to lymph nodes or any where else.  All the stuff I've been doing (and that she did), was supposed to make the cancer journey end.  Period,

I did my best to focus on my last chemo celebration and my friends.  Here are some pictures.

Once I got home, Jeff and I celebrated with our traditional chemo countdown beer.  I am happy to report, that 6 pack is EMPTY.

Cheers to chemo being done.

But, I could not shake this dread.

Relapse.

The chemo posse met up again on Friday (after chemo) for fluids.  We all talked some more.  We met again on Monday (fluids) and on the next Thursday (fluids for me, chemo for a few).  Wouldn't you know on Thursday, there was another new face.  Another lady with long beautiful hair. She also, had a relapse.  Shit.

To say I was a trying to not spiral into the hole of "what ifs"  is mild.  I look for signs from God, from the Universe, from everywhere around me.  Why at chemo #6, do I meet two ladies that relapsed?  Did I need a reality check that not everyone is lucky to be placed in remission after all this?  Did I need a reminder to keep checking nodes and surface skin for changes?

I do not know why.  But, this was a reality check I would have liked to avoid.  I will go in tomorrow, for my herceptin, and see my chemo posse.  I will offer support and listen.  It's not much, but I can do that.

I do not want a relapse.  Until I met chair 21, relapse was not even on my radar.  Between the double mastectomy, chemo and herceptin, I have a great prognosis.  But, now, knowing there is another side of this "great prognosis" I am going to be paranoid.  They tell me, I will have blood work done every few months to check my tumor markers.  Chair 21 had this to,  Her tumor marker was 1 number over "normal."  One number, and she left a lump in her node.  One fricking number means the cancer is back.  I have a feeling, I am going to be paranoid every three months with this test.

Basically, for chemo number 6, the reality of cancer hit me.  Two acquaintances passed away due to their cancer/complications of cancer, and now two ladies relapsed.  Death and relapse.  While trying to treat all this, I forget some people do not get to experience the all clear.  I am still fighting my fight, but these four people will always be in my prayers and thoughts as reminders of every day being cancer free is a gift.  Life goes on, and my choice is to keep moving with it.