Like I said in my last post…I wanted to wait until next year to get scanned. “Just in case.” I’m not anticipating bad news or anything. And I’m not worried. I’ve done this for a long time now. But, it seems whenever they find progression it’s always in December, right before Christmas. I really to find a way to schedule it differently in the future.
Have you ever wondered what it’s like on scan day? Today I decided to give you a little tour. So I recorded the various steps, just for those of you who take the time to read my blog. Feel free to leave a comment here or on the video!
🎼🎶Christmastime is here! Happiness and cheer! Bringing lots of traffic jams from Interstate to here… 🎼🎶 Chemo’s in the air. Beeping everywhere. Nurses by their patient’s side. And many memories there.🎹🎵
Ahhh. The music of Christmas. 😁 After wrapping several Christmas presents for the Grandkids at home, Tim chauffeured me to MD Anderson in The Woodlands where I would get my blood drawn before chemo. I sat a while waiting for the lab to call before they realized I was not on the schedule. (Good thing I checked!😳😳) A new receptionist had checked me in for chemo, but didn’t realize my labs were missing. Things always seem to go wrong when Tim comes with me 🤪🙄.
After that — lunch. We often do this between labs and chemo, but it doesn’t usually take this long. The traffic was backed up all the way to the restaurants. I’m guessing it must be early-release day from school! Crazy…!
Panera Bread was packed, not a parking space in sight, so we ate at the Thai Cottage next door. I must say it was absolutely delightful! The pace was perfect. The chicken noodle soup was amazing, and I gobbled up the yellow curry with shrimp. YUM! And I had the satisfaction of beating Tim 2 out of 3 games of Yazy while we waited for our meal to arrive.
Coming back to the medical center the traffic was not quite as horrific. I arrived at my appointment early in hopes of an earlier chemo time. Well…no such luck. My appointment was at 2:15, which was exactly when they called me back. The drip didn’t actually get started until after 3:15. I ducked into the cafe to get an afternoon snack to take with me. I was glad to see they are finally stocked with some goodies that aren’t plant-based. I prefer the orange ones, but I’m not complaining.
Now, here I sit, getting my first bag of chemo (Perjeta), sporting my new t-shirt in honor of the Christmas spirit.
Last bag is now dripping. I am getting my last infusion of the year. It is treatment round number 73. That’s about how old I feel at times 😂😂. I’ve seen procedures changed multiple times in the nine years I have been coming here. All for the better, I’m sure. For example, Herceptin now has to be covered by a dark brown bag shown here, as they discovered it is light-sensitive. They can only bring one drug at a time. They used to be able to do all of them at once.
These little blue covers are new. They clamp over the chemo connector. Apparently there was some leakage (yikes!), so this makes the connector more secure. My nurse told me I should see them from now on.
I’m almost finished with the drip at this moments as I finish up this blog post. Tomorrow I will have the last scans of the year. Since they typically access my port for that, I asked my nurse to use the bigger gauge needle for chemo today. As soon as my machine beeps and she unhooks me, I’ll get to go. I will keep the line in until tomorrow, so I won’t have to get poked again and save time on the scans.
Here at MD Anderson for my oncology check-up. I was first diagnosed with breast cancer nine years ago this month. The second time (stage 4) I was diagnosed was five years ago this month. Always right before Christmas . I was secretly hoping to avoid any scans before Christmas, but he wants them done before the end of the year, even better since copays start over in January.
I come in to see the doc about every three or four months. Everything is still good right now. He schedules my chem and imaging, and refills my prescriptions. As of now, my blood looks good and imaging is good. It’s been about six months since my last imaging so we will do that before the year ends.
Update: Scans are scheduled for Friday, December 17th. Then, hopefully we will only receive good news Christmas week.
They are always very encouraging whenever I come in here. I love my doctors and all the people who see me at MD Anderson. Every time I come I see a lot of people, including the phlebotomist who draws my blood, the tech who takes my vitals, the nurse who knows me by name and asks lots of personal questions, the physician assistant who checks my heart and lungs, and the medical oncologist. They are like family and friends and they genuinely seem to care. I will be on round 70-something next week, so we’ve been connected for a while now. I am so thankful for my team of experts who are keeping me alive.
God is not a God of statistics…
FIVE years! FIVE! I’ve lived to see five more Christmases. We made it! God is good. My husband has been there beside me the whole time, and I couldn’t have done it without his support. To put it into perspective, only 20-30% of women who are diagnosed MBC live five years, with the average being about three. The numbers are hard to track, because there isn’t a good tracking system nationwide. So that’s the best we know.
Also as a point of interest (and a shameless plug), “only 2%-5% of funds raised for breast cancer research is focused on research for the already metastasized patient.” Much more research needs to be done to better understand this disease. Metavivor is my favorite organization, since 100% their donated funds go to research.
As a friend of ours reminded us nine years ago this month after I was first diagnosed, “God is not a God of statistics.” Only He knows the future. He is the supernatural healer and certainly defies the odds. I trust Him.
A few weeks ago I shared the sad story of Midnight, our daughter’s puppy who we fostered for five days. Due to their apartment restrictions and allergies in the family, they could no longer keep him. The shelter was closed when they moved, so we let them put him in our back yard until he could be taken to the shelter.
He was such a sweet puppy, only ten months old, and we fell in love with him. I became much more attached than I imagined I could. You can read more in my former blog about Midnight. We did have fun with him while we had him. He proved to be fast, smart, sweet, and he could jump! (Our fan remote which we left on the table has seen better days 🙄.)
A short video of our fun with Midnight.
It was time for our big bike trip to Lake Michigan, so we could no longer keep him in our yard. Also, we have too much stress to have a pet given my diagnosis and all our commitments. After many pleas, multiple connections, and no results, we took him to the Conroe animal shelter. I had heard horrible things about them, and I experienced it as well. However, we were left with no option but to leave him there and pray for this dear dog’s life.
I am so happy to reporthe has been rescued!A rescue organization called Forgotten Dogs of the Fifth Ward tagged him in less than a week to be saved. They found him a foster home not far from us. He got a virus in the shelter, so they gave him some medicine before he was to go home. They x-rayed a leg. They gave him shots. And, they neutered him. Many thanks to Kelle Mann and the Forgotten Dogs for saving his life.
The new owner is going to foster him until a forever home can be found, but I suspect they may turn into his forever home. They built him a new kennel in their air conditioned and heated garage where he will stay at night. They also have a great set-up outside for the dogs. Watch the video at the end for a great invention to keep dogs hydrated!
It took a few weeks for them to get him due to the virus, vet visits, and then they went on vacation. I waited until he was in his new home to blog about it as I was on pins and needles hoping it would go through. She kept updating me with information about him, and it was good to hear from her.
While they were on vacation, he stayed at the Kickapoo Ranch where he was trained. (Apparently he was running over and knocking down the older, little pugs at their home🤪, so he needed some attention.) The new owners also went for training, just before they brought him home on October 5th.
He has a new name!
Midnight is now “Blackberry.” I love that name, and so does Elizabeth. She was happy to see the updates and hear he is doing so well. It is not uncommon for new owners to give a pet a new name. It is unlike people who are very attached to their names. Dogs respond to whatever prompt they are given (and we given dogs many nicknames anyway).
The Bible talks about names. People were assigned a new name as a sign of hope, new beginnings, and new blessings. Abram was changed to Abraham, Sarai became Sarah, Jacob became Israel, and Simon was called Peter by Jesus. Blackberry is filled with hope for the future and blessings. I like that.
Here is a brief conglomeration of the pictures and movies sent to me by the new owner. It was so good to keep up and see he is happy and healthy. I love happy endings! ❤️❤️ I thought you might as well.
And now he is Blackberry! Getting trained and settled into his new home.
A famous poet once said, “Thousands have lived without love, not one without water.” I am fortunate. I have found both.
Why does water have such an allure? We are all too familiar with it. Our bodies, as well as the earth, contain about 70% water. It should be mundane. We see it on a regular basis, in the rain and as we sweat. Yet, mere words cannot explain the beckon to which we respond. The moon seduces the tides of the sea, creating unique and inspiring experiences every second, minute and hour of the day. A tall glass of water nourishes the soul on a hot and thirsty day. Sailboats and mighty ships navigate the deep. Sandy beaches on the shore host thousands of romantic sun seekers.
Perhaps God created the earth as well as our bodies to remind us of the Living Water.
John 7:38
I love the beach, sounds of the crashing waves, seagulls and lighthouses. Lake Michigan has a magnetism different from the balmy ocean shore. A beach without salt, in cooler climates, and a natural wonder–it is the perfect combination to check off an item on our bucket list. However, several attempts by my hubby and me to ride there have been averted by weather or personal circumstances.
Until now.
When the HOG National Touring Rally announced they were going to circle Lake Michigan, my hubby and I were “all in!” #Ride365
The routes were planned and hotels were reserved. Rain or shine we were going, encouraging others to ride along. This would be the longest trip to date on Free (my Heritage), in a line-up of bikes with my hubby on his Road Glide. A few other friends decided to join us on this epic journey.
I ride because I can. I can because God is continuing to work miracles in my body. When the doctor said I had less than two years to live, God had other plans! (That was five years ago and my body is stable.) While I will always be considered “terminal,” “incurable,” and therefore “disabled” by legal standards, I believe God has something more to do in my life. I push myself to the limit, because my limit is not God’s limit. What I cannot do by my own strength, He provides.
I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.
Philippians 4:14 NLT
Our kick stands were up on August 26th, 2021, two days after our 36th anniversary. Twelve days later–Labor Day, September 6th–we would be back home, bikes safely nestled inside our garage. Just in time for several birthday celebrations. So, this was kind of an anniversary / birthday / “I can do all things through Christ” combination ride.
Facebook contains daily logs of our travels, with lots of pictures too. We also made a video (surprised? 😂😂). Highlights included riding the Natchez Trace Parkway all the way from the southern to northern terminus, finding the “big egg” in Mentone Indiana, the HOG Touring Rally events, riding through the “Tunnel of Trees,” Legs Inn Historic Landmark, Lighthouses, crossing the Mackinac Bridge (it’s a suspension bridge, and we had to ride on the grates 😳😳), riding by Lake Superior, Door County Loop and Al’s Swedish Restaurant (best known as “the restaurant with goats on the roof”), the Harley-Davidson Museum and Hometown Rally, scenic byways with Amish in carriages led by horses, watching a horse slip on wet pavement and fall to the ground right in front of us (😳), early morning fog, and of course the camaraderie of all our riding buddies.
All around the Lake we had the most beautiful weather. Blue skies and cool riding temperatures. We only had a few patches of rain on the way up and back, but otherwise it was picture perfect.
Here’s a link to the video recap, which barely scratches the surface. Be sure to turn on the sound to hear Flat Cowboy’s 🤠 reflections on the trip. 😂😂🤪🤪 He’s our Chapter Mascot. You’ll also hear from our Shooters, the leaders of the Rally, and an extra rider we picked up in Mentone Indiana at the big Egg 😂. The guys from the Woodlands Chapter turned down an interview, but we enjoyed having them on the ride as well!
In addition to the video and pictures I took on my iPhone in the previous movie, I also shot some footage on my GoPro, which was attached to my mustache bar. Unfortunately, most of the time I couldn’t reach the record button from the saddle. (I did try a couple of times on a straight and traffic-free road 😜😜.) The video below includes a conglomeration of shots from that angle as well, which is totally new footage not previously seen. I think it’s pretty cool.
A little disclaimer here. I’m still learning how to record the bluetooth intercom system with my Hero 3+, but it was fun to try. When making movies it is important yet very challenging to anticipate scenes in advance. For example, when to turn on the video to get that “perfect shot,” how long the battery will last, and how much footage that little disk can hold. It’s especially hard when riding in a group, setting up the camera while trying not to hold everyone up. I don’t have a production crew. Motorcycling requires one to practice minimalism. It’s just me and my iPhone, or my GoPro camera. I shoot, and I edit. (I use iMovie because it’s free and easy to use.) I’m just thankful to have the equipment to do something I love. And I am especially grateful when people do silly antics or say amazing things to make it more enjoyable.
That’s probably way more technical stuff than you care to know 😂🤪😎. So, now you can just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride!
I really wanted to record the entire Bridge crossing, but I was SO scared just hanging on for dear life. I didn’t know for sure if it was recording. Seems the battery died half-way across the bridge, sadly 😪, just before we had to ride on the grated lane 😳😳. But, I was pleased to see some footage of the bridge and tunnel of trees on the download, which I thought I had missed completely.
Since Big Mac is the only way across to the Upper Peninsula, that’s proof enough. Did it. Checked the box. Probably won’t do it again 😂. Well, I could be swayed.
From that point on, the GoPro stayed in my bag. I couldn’t be bothered.
There’s a lot to remember when gearing up for a ride, including putting everything away and locking down all the saddlebags; pre-checking the bike with T-CLOCS (does anyone do that?🤪🤪); gearing up with sunscreen, lip balm, headband, bandana, turtle neck, jacket, chaps, gloves, goggles, helmet, headphones, intercom, phone, GoPro; and entering the address into my GPS. I take my time so as not to forget anything, but it’s never foolproof. Just ask some unknown rider who lost their gloves and hat a short ride from one of our hotels. No, we didn’t stop and pick them up, although we probably would have found their owner at the next Rally meet-up point.
“Can you hear me?” Silence. Tim’s Sena battery had a propensity to run out ahead of mine. On those occasions, I took the lead since I had the address plugged into my phone. We discovered my riding style changes when I’m in the lead. Generally, I take off faster, ride down the road at higher speeds, and don’t hesitate as much since I don’t have to figure out what the bike in front of me is doing. At least, that’s what I’m told. If you ride in front of me (or behind me for that matter), be prepared to wait. 🤪😜🤪
Tim’s reassuring voice was in my ear as I rode 3,936 miles on my bike (my biggest ride yet), and an additional 209 with him on the Road Glide, for a grand total of 4,145 miles. Quite a trip! If you haven’t gone there, go! Memories that will last a lifetime.
Rewind to Sunday, the beginning of this week. I was helping our daughter’s family move out of her apartment into another apartment. Midnight was their puppy, now ten months old. Still growing, and soon to be a big dog. Too big to live in a crate while mom and dad go to work.
Ambivalent about whether to keep him, they kept waiting to make that decision. I must have asked a dozen or more times, “what are you going to do about the dog?”
They have had several job changes, cuts in pay, medical bills, and moving into the apartment would require vet visits, shots, neutering, pet deposit, and monthly pet fees. Their whole reason for moving was to decrease their monthly costs. The children’s asthma, mixed with the challenges of feeding and caring for a big dog, was too much for a family with a tiny apartment. After much contemplation, they came to the realization they did not have the means to keep him. They decided it was in the best interest of the family to give him up.
What’s next?
We were out of town on a preaching gig when we got the call. Elizabeth was insistent he not go with them to the new apartment. (It is impossible to sneak a big dog into your apartment, let alone keep him quiet when you live right in front of the office.) They asked if they could drop him in our backyard until he could be taken to the shelter, which had closed for the day. We didn’t want to do it, but they were insistent on not moving him into their new apartment, so we acquiesced. We would be home later that evening to feed him.
It’s easy to fall in love with such a wonderful pet. I recognize the grave and arduous difficulty of this decision. It was not easy for them. He is part black lab, part blue heeler. Looks like a lab with some blue heeler traits. He’s super smart, fun, sweet, loves to play, and loves to jump. Remarkably fast. Didn’t bark the entire time we had him.
As it turned out, the Montgomery County Shelter was closed the next day, and the next. They would be closed for accepting new animals for the next two weeks because of Covid, so this bought me some time. Tim agreed to keep him a few more days, but Friday was it.
I immediately started on a mission to rescue him. We couldn’t keep him, but maybe someone else could. I tried many foster and rescue organizations. Called the shelter to get their information. Reached out to friends, family, neighbors. I put his picture on FaceBook, in rescue groups, on Instagram. I did everything but take him to Walmart with a “free puppy” sign attached.
Somehow it was shared with groups near and far, including a rescue group in Arizona. While I was getting chemo I was in touch with a lady who sounded perfect for Midnight. Had there been transportation, we would have had a home for him there. Our daughter and son-in-law started questioning whether they should take him back home, but the texts confirmed their intentions not to do so.
I learned some things along the way. For example, there is a current animal crisis (another result of Covid). Covid puppies like Midnight are in excess, and the shelters are overcrowded. People took in puppies, and their dogs couldn’t get fixed due to the veterinarian rules during covid, so more puppies were born. Many, many puppies. And kittens. Now that we are nearly post-pandemic, people are going back to work. Reality of life is setting in, and they can no longer care for a pet. All the rescues want to find a foster home until they can find a forever home. This takes time. And money.
SO many pets need adopting right now.
Several times I thought we had a home for Midnight. Cattle ranches, horse ranches, talk about friends taking him, amongst other things. We kept waiting to see if any of these plans would materialize. Every day we said, “one more day.” But every trail went cold, and it seemed this puppy was destined for the shelter.
He thinks our patio table is his bed. Cooling off under the ceiling fan.
He was starting to get restless, digging in the yard, chewing our remote, taking over our patio furniture and sleeping on the table. Generally making a big dog’s mess in the yard. Yeah, you know the kind.
We didn’t sign up for this. We can’t even enjoy our own backyard! There’s a million reasons we don’t have a pet! We travel, leave home a lot, do not have time or know-how to train him properly, and we don’t really have the kind of space he needs.
If we were going to keep him, we would approach this very differently. But it just isn’t possible. At the end of the day, today, there were no other options.
We live in Conroe, so we can only take him two places. Montgomery County or Conroe animal shelter. Since Montgomery County was closed, Conroe was our only option. I reached out to people once more. I was starting to hear crickets, even from our daughter.
Conroe shelter reviews are horrible. I get it. We didn’t want to do it. We actually considered driving him to the country and dropping him off where he could find a farm to live on, but that would likely just prolong the inevitable. I would feel even worse if I read about an accident because this dog jumped in front of their car. Plus, a long drive to the country did not seem doable given our current circumstances.
He enjoyed the ride in the back of the pickup, totally unaware of the purpose for being there. He tried to jump out, skinning his paw, but fortunately we were able to catch him before he was seriously injured.
We decided Tim would watch Midnight while I went in to talk. These workers must have no soul. Not an ounce of compassion for our situation or our feelings. I confirm what the reviewers say about the workers. I left in tears, which continued to flow for the remainder of the day.
I made the mistake of telling them his name. “How do you know his name?” was her snide retort. When I explained the situation, she said owners have to pay $50 to surrender him. “He’s your responsibility.” Another curt response, mean even. Even though he was never our dog, they considered us the owners. They wouldn’t take him if we didn’t pay the money.
“What if I told you he was a stray?” At this point the lady threatened me. “You’d better be careful. You’re on camera.” She pointed to the camera. “You told us the story. You need to be careful what you say.”
I was having a hard time holding it together. I walked out when she said I would have to sign a euthanasia agreement. It was the way she said, “He’ll be euthanized.” Cold. Calculated. Absolutely no compassion whatsoever. For me or the dog. What I’ve been told about this shelter was confirmed.
A family came in looking for a puppy. I told them we had one out in the truck if they wanted to take a look. That resulted in another hurtful comment. “You can’t rehome here.” They wanted to take a look, but they wanted a smaller dog anyway.
I went back outside to where Tim was keeping an eye on Midnight, who was panting in the heat, getting some shade from the bed cover. I almost said to Tim, “let’s take him home.” But I value my marriage way more than a dog we have only had in our yard for five days. I explained to him what just happened. I couldn’t deal with them any more. Could he please finish up. I’ll watch the dog.
Fortunately for me, my hubby is my protector. He has broad shoulders. While I didn’t want him to experience what I had just experienced, I knew he could handle it. He agreed. They are heartless.
After the papers were signed, and the fee was paid, we walked Midnight to the side of the building where the handler was ready to receive him. He was the kindest of all the workers. Looked him over, and gave him some pats. Midnight seemed happy to meet his new friend.
That’s the last we saw of this precious puppy.
Our only hope is to pray someone falls in love with him like we did. Someone to adopt him. Someone with land and a family, or a farm where he can be put to work. Someone who can rescue him from the Conroe Animal Shelter monsters.
This was so much more difficult than I ever expected. I thought about it and contemplated for quite a while, wondering, “why?” He’s a dog! And we really only knew him for about a week. How did I get so attached to a dog in just five days?
As the tears flowed, I am still a bit unearthed by the experience. I’m still processing it all. He was part of my daughter’s and my grandchildren’s family for nearly a year. Perhaps that’s it. I do not want to be remembered as “the one who took Midnight to the pound.” I will gladly relinquish that title to my husband.
While all things aren’t necessarily a part of my cancer journey, I can’t help but wonder how much of this experience is related. I’m much more sensitive now. More compassionate. More vulnerable. More aware of life and death than ever before. With cancer, there is constant loss. Constant good-byes. Bad news comes just as frequent, or more frequent in many cases, as the good. I guess I was hoping for a happy ending here, and it just doesn’t seem like we’re going to see it.
Á la prochaine…until next time.
If you or someone you know would like to foster or adopt Midnight, please act quickly! He is at the Conroe Animal Shelter, 407 Sargent Holcomb Blvd., Conroe Texas. His ID is A034130. Phone: 936-522-3550. Call TODAY!
Today is my big sister’s birthday. Shhh. Don’t tell anyone, but she is SIXTY years old today. How did we get to be so OLD? 🤪 Happy Birthday Bonnie! I’m getting treatment at MD Anderson today. This is her birthday present… live to see another day. She is in Ohio and we are in Texas. If we lived closer she might be here with me, laughing about memories of childhood. Or, I might take her to dinner.
I guess this blog will have to suffice.
One of my earliest memories in life starts with my sister Bonnie. I was about a year old. Our parents were entertaining company downstairs, and I was playing upstairs. According to the story I’ve been told, I got into my mother’s dressing gown, then tried to come downstairs in it. Tangled in the sea of material, I fell down the entire flight of stairs (that part I remember). I would have cried if it weren’t for my siblings.
It is interesting how certain images are so vivid in my mind. This memory is one of them. I can still see my sister Bonnie’s three-year old face peering around the corner of the stairs, a worried and inquisitive look on her brow, checking to see if I was alright. That look was comforting.
Then came my five-year old brother, racing in his little red fire truck making siren sounds, “rrrrRRRRRrrrr, Gotta take her to the hospital. Gotta take her to the hospital. rrrRRRRRrrr.” He made me smile, laugh even.
Two years were between each of us. Shawn was first, and then Bonnie, and I’m the third of three. The baby. The one who wanted to be into everything her big brother and sister were into, but instead got teased, pushed aside, sheltered, and treated like all babies in families tend to be handled (or was it just me? 🤔).
One exception was the time they invited me to watch a movie with them, and they introduced me to Carrie. Yeah, that’s the one 😳. I was still just a kid, but they were probably pre-teens or teen-agers by now. Thrilled to be invited, yet unaware their invitation was another method of torture. 😬😬
Siblings… 🙄🙄
Bonnie probably remembers their true motives. She remembers way more details from our childhood than I do. Maybe it’s chemo brain, or maybe I was just too young at the time it happened. Or, maybe I’ve tried to block that one out. Who knows 🤷♀️? (Shudder….)
I do recall our mother walking into the room and asking what we were watching. They probably gave her some lame story about a teenager who was growing up. Or something like that. I’m sure she and Dad would not have approved us to watch that movie if they knew what it contained. (I hate horror movies to this day. That particular one left a bitter tasting pill in my mouth.)
I remember when we were just little tykes running around in our PJs. We always shared a room growing up, and got to know each other pretty well. Yet our rivalry was a bit like The Queen and Princess Margaret (can you tell what series we are currently watching??). I’m pretty sure she was The Queen in our household. She was the one in charge. I got to play and be a kid, while she had to act more like a grown-up. It must have been a heavy crown to bear.
They also did due diligence as the older siblings to protect me. It was their job. If I got in trouble, they got it two or threefold. They may have felt it was their right as older siblings to torture me 🤪, but no one else better try! Bonnie may have been a bit mischievous as a kid, and even mores as a teen (I could tell you some interesting stories–I’ll spare her the embarrassing details 😂), but she looked out for me.
Having Bonnie in my life has given me many fond memories. I can’t imagine life without her. Happy birthday sweet sister!
I got my bloodwork done, put cream on the port, now I’m waiting to go back. Almost finished with this blog when they called my name.
Drinking peach tea flavored oral contrast for the CT is a delight.
Just got off the phone with MDAnderson. CT/Bone Scan look good. No progression. Scan still shows the metastasis in the lower spine (which is why my bones are degenerating and I have lower back pain), but nothing is progressing and there is no new growth. That’s the last of the scan results from July 28, 2021. Last week I heard the results of the brain MRI. My brain is also stable. No new lesions noted since January 2019. All is stable. ❤️
Praise the Lord!
Wash-rinse-repeat. Follow-up in 3 months for the CT/Bone Scan. Follow-up in 6 months on the MRI of the brain. Continue on the same line of treatment.
“Never stop praying.”
1 Thessalonians 5:17 CEV
Thank you all for your continued prayers. I know sometimes we may pray and just want to be finished praying, because it’s a long haul with cases like mine. We just want to hear “your prayers are answered,” and “treatment is finished.” We want to hear the bell ring. Your persistence is very much appreciated!
With Stage 4 metastatic breast cancer (or any terminal illness for that matter) each day, week, month, and year is a gift. I want you to know that your consistent and fervent prayers are what keeps me going. Physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I couldn’t go through this without the support of my sweet family and all the rest of you prayer warriors. God has indeed blessed my life.
Today I got my annual boob squeeze. Ladies, you know the one. It’s where you first prepare yourself by putting two bricks in the freezer, pressing your boob in between, and thens q u e e z i n gas hard as you can. Be sure to hold your breath! Or you can lay sideways on the driveway, right behind the rear tire of your car, then ask your hubby to back over your boob until it is thoroughly smashed. Yeah, that’s the one. The annual mammogram.
Fortunately, I only have the left one to squeeze, as the other one is my Frankinboob. (You’ll have to go way back through my history, a LONG way back to read that blog. 😂🤪😂)
MD Anderson has nice robes; I’ll give them that! They keep them in a warmer as well. I wanted to take one home with me. 😃 MyChart showed the results within thirty minutes. I think that’s a record! All clear. PTL!
Shortly after the mammogram, I had an interesting event at the lab. The bandage didn’t hold ‼️ I was reminded why I don’t typically wear white shirts to the hospital. 😳😳
🥀 As I was walking out to the lobby, the gauze sprung to the floor, and blood flowed swiftly down my arm, dripping onto my blue leather Michael Kors crossbody bag. Somehow, I managed to pick up the gauze, stop the flow of blood, and keep it off my shirt. It also easily wiped off the leather. Another patient jumped to my rescue, and called for help. The phlebotomist was very apologetic. We’ve had lots of conversations during blood draws over the years, so we had a good laugh while she was rewrapping my arm.
Our daughter needed a ride to run some errands, so I met her for lunch between mammogram and chemo. A bit tired, to be honest. They took me in early, then I napped for a while, waiting for the pharmacy to mix the bags.
I get this question a lot…”when will you be done with treatment?”
I’ve been stable for two years now, but they will continue to treat me. I have heard of women with my subtype of metastatic breast cancer going off treatment, after being stable for several years, and others who stay on it for life. My doctor doesn’t take any chances. He is concerned about the potential recurrence. They always see some small spots on my scans, so we don’t want to give them a chance to grow, if it is cancer they see. 🤷♀️ And if it does recur, it could come back like a vengeance. So… I’m in treatment for life.
I receive immunotherapy (Herceptin and Perjeta) via infusion every three weeks. It could be worse 🤷♀️. At least I get to keep my hair. ❤️ It’s all done in the chemo rooms, and they treat it like chemo, but it’s not actually chemo. Hence my hashtag, #chemonotchemo.
MD Anderson is starting to feel a bit more relaxed, like it used to be before the pandemic. Patients can take a visitor now, and the front lobby is no longer congested with people waiting for their corona screening. There is now one big screen at the entrance with the questions, to which you reply a simple “yes” or “no,” and you are on your way. I heard many comments of thankfulness that we’ve come this far…Breathe!
In all seriousness, if you haven’t had your boob squeezed by a mammography in a while…it’s time to call and schedule an appointment.
It’s another crazy chemo day! 😜🤪 My phone kept ringing off the hook (how’s that for an antiquated expression LOL). The nurse was trying to access my port and hook me up to the bags. So much for taking a nap😂😂🤪😜.
I was scheduled to get my normal doses of Perjeta and Herceptin today, which I get every three weeks. It’s also time for my Zometa, which I get every three month (for the bones). Nurse said the Zometa was not financially cleared, so she had to double-check, but then it was cleared. Since it wasn’t cleared when I did my labs they needed more blood to get a Vitamin D level, so she pulled it out of my port since it was already accessed. Insurance… 😬😬😬
Then…after all that…the Vitamin D machine in the lab was broken 🙀. So, Zometa was a no go.
I’ll get the Zometa next time. No big deal.
Honestly, I was a bit relieved. The timing is a little stressful today. Our daughter’s car was in the shop so I was helping her get it out. And the taillight is out on our new Mini Cooper, so I need to stop an have that checked.
I just realized I haven’t blogged about that yet. Surprise! We have a new Mini! It is great to have a second set of wheels for those times when we both need to go in opposite directions. We traded our only car for the truck last year, and we’ve been using one vehicle for quite a while now. We have the motorcycles, but the rain has been so unpredictable! This car was a decommissioned service loaner which they just made available the day we were there. It has 5,000 miles on it, but it is still titled as a brand new car and comes with the full warranty. So we saved some money on the deal.
In the meantime, I brought my children’s book and showed it to two of the nurses. They loved it! My primary nurse has an 18 month old, and she bought one for her! Venmo has become my newest friend. She was so excited when I offered to sign it for her as well. She said, “it’s not every day you meet the author of a book you own.” That made me feel good. ❤️
Now, on to dinner with our HOG Chapter, and after that I’m keeping our newest grandbaby overnight so Mom and Dad can get at least one night’s sleep. Like I said…crazy chemo day!
. I was secretly hoping to avoid any scans before Christmas, but he wants them done before the end of the year, even better since copays start over in January. 
