Category: Stage IV

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Christmas Chemo

Today is chemo day. It is also the exact date 6 years ago when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer (12/12/12).  Six years…wow. Time flies when you’re having … wait … what is that saying again?

I brought my nurse a blue mitten cookie from Panera Bread and she gave me a big hug. It warmed my heart like a mitten warms the hands. I don’t think we can hug our caregivers enough. They need to know we appreciate the work they do. I know it’s a small gesture, but I hope it makes her day.

As soon as I arrived, another nurse came scurrying into my room, in a bit of a panic, looking for barf bags. Yep, that’s what he said. Twice. Folks, this may be TMI, but these little rooms are not very soundproof; they are only closed by a thin curtain. I feel bad for the guy, really. My heart went out to him. No one should have to go through this. But, let’s just say, I am glad I brought my earbuds today or I might have also needed one of those bags. I’m listening to Christmas music on Pandora while getting my treatment. Francesca Battistelli has such a beautiful voice. Frankly, I could sit here and listen to her all day. Ahh. Much better than the alternative noises resounding in the hallway.

When I finish getting chemo, my nurse will leave the port accessed as I have my tri-monthly scans all day tomorrow. There is something comforting in knowing how to work the system. I called ahead and got an order to leave it accessed.  Now I won’t have to get poked with an IV tomorrow, risking another blown vein.  Again…comfort.

Even though it is time consuming, I am at peace knowing the juice going into my veins is keeping the cancer at bay. I fully expect to hear everything is stable after my scans tomorrow as well. When I spoke with the bone scan technician, she was so happy to hear my port will be accessed. That will save time. The scans are set for 9:00, 2:00, and 5:00, but they usually try to do them closer together when I arrive. Hopefully I won’t be here another whole day.

I got my hair colored this morning before chemo, so it has already been a busy day. Thanks to Tiffany for her willing spirit to try something different; she applied the HairPrint that I usually do at home. It’s an all natural product, but a bit messy when I do it.  I wanted my hair to look pretty for tonight’s annual Christmas party for the Breast Friends support group, which is where I’ll be heading as soon as I finish my treatment. Maybe I’ll see some of you there!

Á la prochaine … until next time…

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Scans

Several beautiful well-behaved Labrador Retrievers are sitting on and around a CT scan. The meme reads, “Sorry, sir, we can’t do your CAT Scan, but we can give you a LAB Report!”  Insert rimshot.

Doctor says to the patient, “I have the results of your MRI.  Half your brain is clogged with passwords and the other half is clogged with user names.”

I am amused by the plethora of jokes and memes regarding CT scans and MRIs.  Laughter is good medicine, and I love a good pun. I think we can all relate to the MRI joke with the new securities and technologies requiring newer and longer passwords–different user names for each site we visit–that are clogging our drains…eh hem…I mean brains.  My employer just announced the use of new VPN security due to a hacker getting into the system and diverting an employee’s paycheck! Yeah, I’ll take the extra precautions even though my brain is full of a few extra passwords.

Every three months my oncologist sends me for tests to make sure the chemo is doing its job:  CT scan of the abdomen, pelvis, and chest as well as MRI of the brain. Sometimes he does the bone scan but it doesn’t really tell him as much, so he didn’t do it this time. I didn’t mind not doing it as it meant one less visit to the hospital.

For about a year now the organs have been stable without any evidence of disease.  I am continually praising the Lord for what He is doing in my life.  Two tiny spots on the brain could be anything, but as long as they do not grow we must be doing something right.  Apparently, many people have spots on their brain and don’t even know it, so I guess one could say I fall in the ‘normal’ category!

In case you have forgotten, or don’t know my history, this round of treatment started with a diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer in December 2016, nearly two years ago.  I had a seven centimeter mass on my ribcage, spots in my spine, skull, ribs, as well as liver and lungs.  Since then, all of those spots have completely disappeared.

Today was another follow-up with my oncologist to go over Friday’s test results.  I am never worried, but always a little curious, to know what the results will be. Whatever will be, will be, right? Worrying only takes time away from more important things. I admit it is always nice to get the thumbs up and hear the words “stable” once again.  I think he is a bit surprised each time I come in.  We talked briefly about the treatment plan, e.g. continuing with infusions of Herceptin and Perjeta every three weeks, as well as daily pills (Anastrozole).  If it’s working, don’t fix it; so, we’ll keep plugging along.

I continue to work, and I continue to ride the Harley, and I continue to spend time with my family…not necessarily always in that order. LOL.  I will continue to do all of these things as long as the Lord gives me breath, strength, and adds to the days of life.  Everything I do is to glorify Him. People, God is evident in my life! I couldn’t do this without Him.

“You will live a long life and see my saving power.” Psalm 91:16 CEV 

Á la prochaine...until next time.

 

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Blood Clots

Chemo day is usually pretty uneventful. Come in, give blood, get vitals, access port, get chemo, and I go home. Today, however, a little hiccup when the nurse could not get blood return from my port. He tried multiple times to no avail. He said it probably has a small clot in there. I admit I heard “clot,” and got a little nervous about that. However, this is fairly normal and apparently does not have any long-term concerns. He said they have to do a TPA and clear the line of any blockage. This takes about an hour. Basically it’s a syringe with some medicine connected to the line.

To move forward with my Herceptin and Perjeta treatment, they had to put an IV in my arm.  Ouch!  I have also been having trouble with IVs, so he went in through the wrist. The hand and wrist are pretty sensitive. My nurse Marco, who I had last time, took good care of me. It only hurt a little.

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Brainy MRI

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I recall the first time I had an MRI of the brain.  It was after my original diagnosis of Stage IV Metastatic Breast Cancer when the bone scan determined I had mets (metastasis) in my skull.  I was scared to death. Anxiety flowed through my body like the mighty Mississippi after a torrential storm. I was relieved when no brain mets were found with that first scan.

A year later, they found two tiny spots.  The docs are watching them closely, and at this point they are not concerned.  Three weeks later the spots had not changed, grown, or multiplied.  The mets was “stable,” and the lesions were so tiny they could not even triangulate them to do radiation.  The assumption is always cancer when you have Stage IV metastatic breast cancer.  So, we just keep watching.

So this past week I went in for my MRI expecting to get in a good nap. I have learned not to worry or get upset — unless they have to poke and prod more than three times to find a good vein.  Three veins were blown at the last appointment. Ouch! That did bring tears to my eyes, but the tech was so sweet and did his best to comfort me.  Chemo on the previous day may have contributed to the evasive veins. Must remember to schedule those further apart…

But the good news is – everything is still stable.  I have no additional lesions, and the tiny spots have not increased in size.  Also, my sinusitis is gone.  (The last time I went in I had a bad cold which seemed to last forever. I am so thankful I can breathe again!)

So…we continue to pray and watch.  Watch and pray.  No matter what, I trust in the Lord. That is relatively easy to say when things are going well, but it takes a great amount of faith to trust Him even when it isn’t.  The verse of the day today spoke to this clearly.

Yes, God’s riches are very great, and his wisdom and knowledge have no end! No one can explain the things God decides or understand his ways (Romans 11:33 NCV).

Why even try? His understanding is limitless. Mine is not. All we can do is trust in his infinite wisdom and knowledge, regardless of the decisions He makes in our lives. Are you trusting Him with your situation regardless of the outcome?  Feel free to comment below.

Á la prochaine…until next time.

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Busy Day

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Chemo Day is always a busy day.  Fortunately, I have less work to do as the term is winding down and my biggest class finished early.  It has been a great day as well. Good news came my way on more than one occasion. But first, here’s a recap of my day…

8:30 Blood Draw

8:45-9:45 – Eat breakfast at Panera, and answer emails.

9:45 – 10:15 – Vitals, Nurse and Doctor’s appointment. Here’s where the first good news came in. The nurse told me a friend had mentioned my name. The conversation we had was positive, and I was a help to her. She couldn’t mention her name, of course, due to medical privacy. But she did say this lady was very encouraged by me, and I should keep what I’m doing. She indicates she was blessed as she was a witness to my “ministry.”  This made me feel like a rock star.  All I do is invite people to talk to me. Talk about your breast cancer, I say. This is one of the best ways to start healing. It is so great to hear my desire to help is…well… helping.

Oh, and the doctor said it’s time for more scans.  This is an every 3-4 month event, so I wasn’t surprised.  I was surprised it was February when I last had them done. Time flies. So those are now scheduled.

10:15 – 11:30 – Go to Wal-mart and do some shopping. The Wal-mart in The Woodlands is so much better than the one in Conroe.  I got an office item that should have been nearly $100, but they only charged me $40.  Again – great news!  Bought a banana and protein bars to tide me over until I can eat some lunch.

11:30 – 2:00 – Chemo – I was roomed in one of the best rooms in the house. I love the “back rooms,” which are old exam rooms converted to chemo rooms.  They have a desk, and it’s quiet back there. People don’t bother you. And the pharmacy is right by the room, so my nurse very quickly saw when my chemo was mixed and ready to go. I got a lot of work done as well.

It was 104 degrees when I came out of the building and got in my car. WOW! It’s a hot day.

 — Talk to my husband on the phone. He was getting pinged every time I would schedule a scan. He’s in Anderson this week, so he didn’t know if it was routine or something serious.  It’s great to know I have a hubby who loves me and supports me all the time!  He prayed for me this morning, and he is always telling me how much he loves me. He is definitely a keeper.

2:00 – 4:30 – Back to Panera. It’s hot outside, but still freezing in Panera.  Hot tea is always on my order, no matter how hot it is.  This time I had lunch and worked some more.  And blogged. I love their strawberry, poppyseed, chicken salad.  It’s only here in the summer, only 170 calories, and absolutely delicious! A half-salad is plenty, and I always get the sprouted grain-roll on the side, since I am cutting out white flour.

4:30 – I’m heading out to have dinner with some friends from my support group.

6:00 – 8:00 – Breast Friends. This is my monthly support group at MDAnderson.  Tonight the social worker will be speaking, so that is of interest to me as well. I’m there to get support, but I really see my role as a support to others. Plus, I can get a free massage. 🙂

All in all, it’s a very good day.

Á la prochaine…until next time.

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Brain Mets

Today was a good day. I started off with Physical Therapy doing strength training after Breast Cancer. I have unlimited PT visits with my insurance, so I have been getting help on the lymphadema, scar tissue, and now I feel like I have my own Personal Trainer to help me get stronger. I felt a little queazy at one point of our workout, but my blood pressure was fine so we kept going. I was reminded of my 30s when I was going to a gym, working out, pressing my full body weight with my legs, and lifting 25 pound weights during body pump. Now in my fifties I could hear the Hefty commercial calling me, “wimpy, wimpy, wimpy,” as I looked at the 1 pound weights gripped in my hands…and hard work!  We have a ways to go, but I’m determined to get stronger.

The main reason I’m writing is because I had a visit with my radiation oncologist this afternoon. I love her. She’s a great doctor, and very knowledgeable.  She said the two very tiny spots the MRI found on my brain are only detectable on one set of slices, but not the other two (they have to triangulate to do any treatment). She also reassured that brain mets are very slow growing, unlike the aggressive tumors we’ve seen in other parts of my body.  And since they are so tiny, she is not concerned. Due to the longevity of life in women with breast cancer (her words), they zap them as needed.  It is likely I will have to go in and do this from time to time. The phrase “longevity of life” was music to my ears. I like thinking about living, and enjoying life.

Radiation to zap brain lesions (a/k/a brain mets, a/k/a/ brain metastasis) does not have any side effects. And for now, the tiny spots are not causing any symptoms either. Repeat the MRI in about 6 weeks, then see if we need to do anything else at that point.

She went over the possible treatment options for when/if the time arrives (I immediately turned down the Gamma Knife, which is downtown).  Fortunately, I can be treated in The Woodlands (Yeah!). It only takes three trips to zap them, so it’s not nearly as big of an ordeal as when I got radiation on the surgical scar (I had 33 daily rounds, if you recall). There is also a possibility this is not even brain mets, and the spots may “disappear” by the time I get another scan. So, for that we are praying! I believe in miracles, and I’m thankful I have a doctor who does as well.

On another note, tomorrow I have an appointment with a dental oncologist–I didn’t know there was such a thing–as the bone scan showed some “inflammation” in the right TMJ. For this I do have to go downtown.

Otherwise, all my CT scans looked good.  The liver, which you recall always had spots on every scan, is “unremarkable,” along with the spleen, pancreas, and my lungs also look great.  I still have cancer in the bones, but it isn’t spreading.  Everything is “stable.”

 

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The Metastatic Breast Cancer Journey

BCBannerMetsIn December 2016, almost 4 years to the day of my first diagnosis and later being deemed “cancer-free,” I was told I have Stage IV Metastatic Breast Cancer.  (I was first diagnosed with Stage IIIb in December 2012).  This isn’t my first rodeo, so this time around I have a different perspective. The first time I ignored recommendations for alternative medicines. This time I am targeting the cancer with lots of guns fully loaded.  The first time I was scared speechless.  This time, I just said, “okay,” and started treatment.  The first time I had millions of questions, and my head was spinning constantly.  This time, I still have questions but I don’t worry about the answers.  There is a certain comfort in knowing what to expect. I knew the doctors, the routine, the chemo (although this time it would be a different kind), and I knew how to get to the cancer center.  I knew that having a positive attitude would be the key.  The first time, I believed that God would heal me and my faith was in God’s healing of this earthly body.  This time, I believe God will heal me, but it may not be on this earth.  He can miraculously heal me and remove the cancer from the body, but even if he doesn’t, I will trust him and remain faithful.  I have learned that faith can be a source of strength, and comfort comes from knowing that God is in control…regardless of the outcome.  True faith stands by the Lord even if we do not get our way.  After all, the Lord Himself said “not my will, but Thine be done,” and then He died on the cross.  Sometimes we have to put our own will aside, and let God do His thing.  And it is always a beautiful thing!

It has been a year since my diagnosis, and much has happened in the past twelve months.  Even though we are not at the beginning, I have decided to blog about my journey.  Sometimes it may be very brief, like “I got my chemo today.”  And other times it may be longer. I plan to educate as well as demonstrate faith in action.  Somewhere along the way I will share the events of this first year, but more importantly, I am hopeful this blog will help others who are going through this journey.  It is my gift to family and friends, patients, their caretakers; and as a counselor educator, it will also be for those who will counsel or educate the counselors who will be there for these patients.  My goal is for this to be a lifelong blog, and I am hopeful it will be a very long life.

All things through Christ…

 

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Welcome to My Blog!

The Nitty-Gritty Gritty Blog Explained. (Scroll down or click on recent posts to read the most current blogs.)

Merriam Webster defines grit as both a noun and a verb. As a noun, it can be “small loose particles, sand or gravel,” or something similar. I kind of see my cancer that way. My body has a bunch of loose particles, and I have experienced lesions that look a bit like sprinkles of gravel on the CT Scans and MRI pictures. Technically, cancer is a normal cell (or cells) gone rogue rather than a foreign object like grit, and it is much larger and more dangerous than a piece of sand in your shoe. However, I think this concept of grit could fit. (See what I did there?)

When you get a piece of grit in your shoe, it is an annoyance. It is a constant source of irritation. Some people stop the journey because of the discomfort; hikers take off the boot and remove the pebble. They immediately find relief. If left unchecked long enough, it can rub the skin raw, turning into a sore that potentially becomes infected and impacting the rest of the body with fever, chills, and even death. 

We have done what we can to remove the cancerous grit throughout my body. Previous blogs will tell the whole story, if you have time to read it all. While my body is currently stable, and has been for several years, the cancer and treatment are ongoing. Body scans continue to show “hot spots,” but they have not progressed since 2019. It is very likely the spots in my bones are where the cancer was, rather than where it is.

I am a lifer. Although I look healthy, until they discover a cure for stage 4 metastatic breast cancer, I will most likely be in treatment for the rest of my life. (You can read further about my treatment in various blog posts.) Like grit, cancer and treatment continue to annoy due to the frequency, side effects, and ongoing pain where the cancer has impacted various parts of the body. Like grit, I am reminded that what starts small can grow into something more serious if it is not treated (and sometimes continues to grow even when it is treated). Like grit, it is annoying, but I am pulling off the shoe the best way I know how.

The fourth definition of grit (noun) is also why I named my blog the Nitty-Gritty Gritty Blog.  Webster defines grit as “firmness of mind or spirit: unyielding courage in the face of hardship or danger.”  That definitely fits. Regardless of the hardships, I remain steadfast in my journey with God as my support and encourager. I have unyielding courage because his Holy Spirit is holding my hand. My friend Jesus walks beside me and keeps me company during treatments and scans. This blog will take you through a dangerous journey I have encountered, and continue to hike each day. It will do so with the firm and courageous spirit which God has provided. 

Lastly, grit (verb) is also defined, “to cover or spread with grit.” I like that. That’s what I aspire to do, cover you with grit. Spread the grit. Make you gritty as well! In this blog I also hope you catch the courageous spirit as we look at day-to-day life with breast cancer. Breast cancer which was deemed “cured,” but metastasized to other parts of the body. Breast cancer which is deemed by medical journals and doctors as terminal; yet, life goes on! I hope you apply each lesson to your life and realize you too can have firmness of mind and spirit and unyielding courage in the face of hardship or danger.

Perhaps you are also experiencing a difficult journey right now. Or maybe you are just a kid and you have a long journey ahead of you. Whatever your stage in life is, please know that God can grant you peace and comfort as you encounter grit in life, and he can cover you with grit to pull through!

This blog is nitty-gritty, because we get down to business. And it’s a gritty blog, because my mind and spirit are firm. I hope reading my story will provide you with a bit more grit as well. 

It isn’t the mountain ahead that wears you out;

it is the grain of sand in your shoe.

~Anonymous~

P.S. Some people may wonder why I started ending my blogs the way I do. I chose this tagline because I love the French culture. I have many French friends, and I am trying to learn how to speak their beautiful language. I also close with this phrase because I believe we will meet again whether in a blog, on earth, or one day in Heaven.

À la prochaine…until next time.

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A New Journey

This page begins a new journey…the Metastatic Breast Cancer Journey. I was diagnosed Stage IV in December 2016.  Welcome to my new site.

I started blogging when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2012. I didn’t really care if anyone read the posts, as writing is therapeutic in itself. However, if it could be helpful to someone else who is newly diagnosed, or if a friend or caregiver wanted to know more about what we go through, I hope you receive a word of encouragement. We are all in this together!

Blogs from my original diagnosis the first time through this cancer journey through the very beginning of this metastatic journey can be found on our other website www.timandcindywest.com. That site also contains some inspirational articles written by my hubby, as well as some adventures.

If you click through the previous posts on this site you will find some additional caregiver stories that could not be included in the published book.

Thank you for following my journey, and for your prayers as well!

À la prochaine…until next time!

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I Quit

I Quit

I. M. Poppy

“‘Call to Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know.” ~Jeremiah 33:3 (AKJV)

 

My Story

One evening near the end of my wife Vicki’s 5-year brave battle with cancer, she was having an extreme anxiety attack.  She didn’t appear to have any acute pain but was desperate.  She cried, she moaned, she rocked, and she shook her bed and pleaded with God “take me home.”  Two of my daughters and their significant others sat with me in our bedroom. We tried our best to console her. We all hugged and cried and prayed together.  It was a horrible experience. Finally, with the help of medications, she settled and slept.  We too settled and the girls went home. Continue reading “I Quit”

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