Monday, November 18, 2013

Groundhog Day

If you grew up in the early 90's like I did, you probably remember the Bill Murray movie Groundhog Day. For those of you who haven't seen it, or who don't remember back that far, it's a movie about a guy who relives the same day over and over again. Here's a little clip for your enjoyment (which you will only find amusing if you've seen the movie. If you haven't, go find it on Netflix or buy it for a few bucks at Amazon).


After the surgery on October 22, the whole mastectomy incision healing process was starting to feel like Groundhog Day, where I was just reliving the same issues over and over again. That is to say, each time the incision would look pretty good for a few days, but within about a week, fluid would begin to leak out, portions of the incision wouldn't close up, and I would wind up back at the doctor to find out what we could do. 

On November 4 when I went in to see Dr. Agarwal, the nurse told me not to eat or drink that morning because it was pretty likely that I would end up in surgery again. It was true--with the incision still struggling to heal, and not looking like it was getting any better, the doctor recommended that we go in and take out the tissue expander, a plastic, foreign object inside of me, that he thought might be making the healing process more difficult for my apparently traumatized body. This time there wasn't an option for the simple sedation method, I had to go all the way under general anesthesia again, and hope to avoid the nausea and general malaise that comes with it. It was a same-day procedure, and the result is a whole new meaning to the term "uni-boob". 

About a week later, I did have another repeat where some fluid started leaking out, but since then with some exceptional wound care (from the mini-hospital that now exists in my master bathroom), I have been able to get it closer to being completely healed. Taking the tissue expander out also means that we are going to put off the reconstruction surgery until after I am done with chemotherapy, when we will try to put the tissue expander back in, with a "Plan B" if it once again doesn't work out. I may explain Plan B in more detail later, but only if it's necessary. Suffice it to say it's not my first choice, and I am hoping my body can handle the tissue expander next time around without any major complications.

The next step, which has been postponed three weeks now due to my body's inability to heal, is to start chemotherapy. I have spent this evening reading all about the side effects, and it turns out that the next few months might suck. Or they might be mostly normal. Either way, I will probably be bald for a while, I will likely be a hypochondriac who calls the doctor on a daily basis with new symptoms, and I will definitely become a germaphobe who uses copious amounts of hand sanitizer at all times.

For anyone who has been through chemotherapy before, or anyone in the audience who is curious about my treatment, my chemotherapy regimen is eight cycles that are two weeks apart, or a "dose-dense" regimen. The oncologist said chemotherapy cycles two weeks apart instead of the traditional three weeks have been shown through research to be more effective for treating my kind of breast cancer. It includes the drugs Cyclophosphamide (brand name Cytoxan/Neosar) and Doxorubicin (brand name Adriamycin) for the first four cycles, adding Paclitaxel (brand name taxol or Onxol) for the final four cycles. One day after each chemotherapy infusion, I'll also get a shot of Pegfilgrastim (brand name Neulasta) to boost my white blood cell production.

The list of potential side effects is long, although the literature emphasizes that everyone responds to the treatments differently, so the specific side effects I will experience are still to be determined. The main ones I'll be on the lookout for include:
  • Nausea
  • Hair loss
  • Increased risk of infection
  • Rash, hives, or other allergic reaction
  • Shortness of breath
  • Fatigue
  • Mouth, throat, and lip sores
  • Loss of appetite
  • Increased bleeding risk
  • Muscle pain or joint pain

Other than all that, it looks like this is shaping up to be the best winter ever. On the bright side, my third surgery did postpone my chemotherapy one more week, which means that I won't have treatments the same week as Thanksgiving and Christmas. I will, however, have a treatment on my birthday. We'll see if it can compete for "worst birthday of my life", up against the year that I had my tonsils out on December 26 and woke up on New Year's Eve puking up blood and had to go back to the doctor to cauterize the wound that day. I'm hoping that 2003 birthday keeps the title.

2 comments:

  1. Ack. I'm with you on the 2003 vote. Blech.

    Be well dear girl. Love and hugs for your boobs AND the rest of you!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Tracy, I've been reading your blog and wanting to comment a thousand times, but never really know what to say. You're one of the toughest girls I know and can definitely kick cancer's a**, but I'm SO so sorry that you have to go through this. You've been in my thoughts and my prayers.

    ReplyDelete