I've been meaning to update for quite a while (anyone noticing a trend here?), but as usual, intentions don't always equal actions.
Thanks to our good friend, social media, I've been notified that tomorrow will be the official one year anniversary of my introduction to my good friend, chemotherapy. And since I'm currently sitting through one of the most frustratingly irrelevant presentations on air flow ratios and ventilation fan wattage, I thought that I'd take advantage of the opportunity to update you all on what's been going on over the past few months.
So, last you all heard, Eugene was about the size of one of those big gumballs, we were proceeding with another round of chemotherapy, and going to meet with the surgeon about the potential for cutting him out of my life (Eugene, not the surgeon--I like the surgeon). Well our meeting with the surgeon was pretty disappointing, despite the fact that we already knew what he was telling us--for some reason actually hearing the words "there's nothing else we can do right now" always stings a little more than just having the notion boxed up in that tiny back corner of my brain that I've reserved for all of the negative thoughts associated with Eugene. So we had a rough couple of days following that meeting, decided it was far from the end of the world, and continued on with the chemo as we had been for the previous four months.
All in all, chemo hasn't been so terrible. We somewhat accepted it as a "new normal"--because doesn't everyone have to routinely be willingly poisoned--with the thought that "it's still working and we've gotta do what we've gotta do". I've been able to continue on with school/work aside from the days I have to miss for treatment and the occasional weekend being spent sleeping until the early afternoon to compensate for my ol' buddy Chemotherapy Fatigue. Honestly, I sometimes think that the people in my daily life suffer just as much, if not more than I do, simply due to the fact that I become a little tough to deal with when I'm tired--and I'm tired a lot. So Chris catches a bit of a hard time on the regular, but he handles it like the kickass companion that he is, and just smiles while helping me focus on all of the positives that we have to be thankful for right now. My guys/gals at work/school are incredible and provide an endless supply of support, encouragement, and understanding. I don't think a single day goes by where someone doesn't ask me how I'm doing or if there's anything I need. But they don't treat me like I'm sick--and that is one of the things that I'm eternally grateful for. The only other issue that has been persistently troubling--and yes, I realize that this may sound uncharacteristically (at least I hope) superficial of me--has been the constant, gradual loss of my hair. I'm pretty sure I mentioned it before, but Alex chopped it off back in October after the nurses told me that I was going to lose it with chemo...and then it didn't fall out--at least until recently. Now don't get me wrong--pretty much everyone has told me that they LOVE my short hair, and I think my Aunt Penny went so far as to tell me that I should never grow it back out. And I realize that "it's only hair", but I think the deeper issue is that it's a part of the battle...and at the moment, it's become a battle that I'm losing--literally and figuratively. It started pretty slow--I woke up Christmas Eve morning to a small collection of short hairs on my pillowcase, and it's come in waves since. Usually following each treatment I would notice a little more hair coming out in the shower for a few days and it would taper off. But in the last few weeks, it's been constant--I'm like a dog shedding its winter coat. Chris still says it looks great, and he wouldn't care if it all fell out...but I would. I'm trying to look at it like my sweet sister said, "you may lose this battle, but it's about winning the war." Of course she's right--and I'll admit I don't say that often...to anyone--but it still serves as a daily reminder of this roller coaster ride.
We've since completed another round of chemo--four treatments and a follow up scan. This time the results weren't so great. Eugene grew. Not much, but enough to indicate treatment failure. Basically, the little jerk figured out a way to grow in spite of the poison that was getting pumped in every other week. So, another set back, another bad day, some more crying in the doctor's office, and (most importantly) a new plan. As I type this, I'm playing the game called "who screwed up and how do we fix it in time?" trying to figure out who dropped the ball on getting the new drug prescription to the pharmacy, and if/how I'm going to be able to start the new treatment regimen when I'm supposed to. These sorts of things are the ones that people don't think about when they think about people battling cancer--or other diseases, for that matter. In my opinion, it really shouldn't be that difficult--doctor writes prescription, prescription is sent/delivered to pharmacy, pharmacy calls insurance company, insurance company does whatever they do, prescription gets filled, customer/patient gets drugs. Seems simple, right?...WRONG. Apparently, there are a range of pitfalls at every step. Now don't get me wrong--I realize I'm not the only patient the doctor's treating, the insurance company is insuring, or that the pharmacy is serving--but am I wrong in assuming that these people have a job to do, and that they should be capable of doing it? One of my favorite professors cracks me up when he talks about the weatherman and how that's the only profession where they can screw up 75% of the time and still get a paycheck...I'm beginning to think that applies to more than just the weatherman. I mean come on people...we've got enough issues to deal with without having to check up on you at each step of the process to make sure you're doing your friggin' job! Am I right? I, unlike these jokers, spend my days doing my job (quite well, I like to think)--and I'm not employed as a babysitter last time I checked. But I digress...everything will work out eventually.
That's where we stand right now. Starting a new set of drugs with the hope and faith that it will work, and Eugene will be defeated. We're also looking forward to starting the next chapter of our life in spite of Eugene's attempts at thwarting our plans. I've accepted a job that will allow us to move back to Texas, and we'll be transitioning all of my treatment to MD Anderson with high hopes for the future. More details on that to come...
In the meantime, all of the support and encouragement from all of you does not go unnoticed. I know I've become a bit of a failure with regard to thank you notes and whatnot, but every Facebook comment/message, each card/note/email/care package I receive, and every phone call/text message is a bright spot and a reminder that we aren't in this alone. I'm not sure who's orchestrated the letter writing campaign over at TAMU-CVM, but I can't tell you how much I love receiving those postcards on a regular basis. I look forward to checking the mail every day and getting those constant words of encouragement. You all are a blessing that I could not be more grateful for, and I truly believe that I wouldn't be where I am without all of your prayers and continued support.
I'm going to leave it at that for today and try to update on a more frequent basis...the operative word there being "try". Thank you all, as always, for reading. Please feel free to share with friends and spread awareness at every opportunity. Find doctors you trust and are comfortable with, get checked out on a regular basis--early detection is the best prevention (although if you think about that statement, it doesn't make a lot of sense), take care of yourselves and your loved ones, PRIORITIZE YOUR HEALTH, and hopefully we can collectively beat this monster that adversely affects so many lives.
