Treatment: 10 of 12

Treatment day

My actual treatment day went awesome! I had a new nurse – Christin. She was extremely nice (like they all have been) and she was incredibly prompt. My mom and I made a timeline of my infusions before I got all groggy from my medication to help ensure we stayed on time. I don’t think that would have been a concern though this time, because Christin was setting her own timers and kept everything rolling right along.

I had a lovely window and a private room! It’s actually kind of funny because the first two treatments were a little crazy with delays that had us there all day. But there’s really not much to report for all of these last treatments and that is a WONDERFUL thing. I’m really happy to say that my treatments are boring and uneventful. The only really noteworthy thing is just how much more the Benadryl is knocking me out. It’s different from just feeling sleepy. My eyelids just can’t stay open. The nurses are asking me for my name and date of birth and I feel like I’m a drunk person trying to pretend I’m not drunk to a police officer except I am more aware that no one is buying it. But it was great to celebrate that I know only have 2 treatments left! It’s really starting to feel like the home stretch!

On a totally random note – on the way to treatment my mom and I spotted a street that was closed off, decorated for Christmas and had antique cars parked on it. Sean later told us that they’ve been filming Lady in the Lake, the upcoming Apple+ TV series based on the book by Laura Lippman.

Other goings-ons

Last Saturday was a beautiful day and then Sunday was pouring down rain most of the day. I was supposed to have a golf tournament on Monday, but it was cancelled due to the weather. It’s all good though, because I haven’t gotten my new clubs yet. I know I said those were going to be my halfway present, but when I realized that fittings for new clubs was probably going to involve hours of swinging clubs I just didn’t think I was going to feel up to that. I will probably wait until October to get my new clubs when I have more energy and time to recuperate from the chemotherapy. Instead, I treated myself to a new pair of Air Force Ones, so I could be like all the cool kids!

On Saturday we went to the Black Market Bakers in Edgewater because I really wanted to try one of their limited time treats – a pecan shortbread bar. Unfortunately, by the time we got there, many of their offerings were already gone! I was devastated! But we were able to get plenty of tasty treats, so it wasn’t a complete loss. For dinner, we made yummy fish tacos by getting some cod fillets and roasting them on the grill in foil. We also made pickled onions, slaw and a corn salad. It’s kind of funny because it seemed like everything had the same seasonings on it – garlic powder, paprika and cumin. The fish also had some ancho chili powder though. Everything was really great!

I woke up on Sunday feeling like I really needed to get that pecan shortbread bar, so I decided to go back to Black Market Bakers. At least this time I actually got what I came for (and some other things as well). With all of the rain on Sunday, my parents and I decided to take Maddie to the mall. Because of COVID she hasn’t been to the mall (or really many stores) in a long time. She got to ride on a train, play on one of those soft indoor playgrounds and say hello to all the cats waiting to be adopted at the SPCA! I was very impressed with her restraint in the SPCA place (they have a special little store at the mall probably to try and increase adoptions). I told her the cats don’t know us, so we have to be respectful and can’t stick our hands or fingers in the cage. Instead, she went around to every cage and waved at the cats and said “Hi kitty cats, I’m Maddie!” It was very sweet.

The rest of this week leading up to treatment was pretty uneventful. I got some good virtual bike rides in and I went to work like usual.

My pity party

Probably the hardest part of treatment is the mental aspect of making it through. There are so many things you don’t really think about before you start treatment. They are the small things that you maybe didn’t know about or the actual reality of experiencing some of the side effects. But they are emotionally taxing and they remind you that things aren’t normal.

The Young Survival Coalition put out a post called “Body Changes After Breast Cancer.” It kind of made me think about everything you go through and how the big parts of the process – surgery, chemo, radiation – they aren’t all of it. There’s so much more that will be different. One of those things is the hair loss. That’s been different for me because I’ve been doing the scalp cooling, and it’s been working! But every week I see how my hair sheds more than normal or differently than normal and I’m worried if I will make it out of treatment with most of my hair. It also probably won’t stop shedding like this for a few months post treatment either. So for a period of time after treatment, I still feel like I’m going to be on eggshells with my hair, afraid to do too much with it. I do feel incredibly fortunate that I was able to keep most of my hair and I know not everyone gets that chance, but it is stressful in a different way.

Then there is the weight gain. Probably some of that is due to all of the delicious cookies my mom has spoiled me with, but some of that is water retention as well that makes me puffy. But you don’t want to try and intentionally lose weight because that would probably be extra stressful on your body. It will be important once this is all over to get that back in control though.

I know I’ve talked about the hot flashes – those are horrible. They are not only uncomfortable and sometimes embarrassing (to just start randomly sweating), but they are a reminder that this isn’t normal. It makes me feel like an old woman at the age of 36. It also reminds me that I’ve essentially been medically castrated. I actually read that on the Wikipedia page for how Zoladex works! My mom told me to stop reading those things. The Zoladex is attempting to shut down my ovaries to protect them, but there is no guarantee that I won’t go into premature ovarian failure after this. Not to mention that I will switch to Tamoxifen. While it works differently, it will do the same thing – put me into menopause. The Zoladex works by blocking the production of luteinizing hormone at your pituitary gland which then down-regulates all of your sex hormones (hello castration!). The Tamoxifen is an estrogen receptor blocker specifically in the breast tissue. It’s a lot more complicated than that, but that’s the cliff-notes.

Before this diagnosis, I was thinking that maybe we would try for another child. Or I was thinking that the most significant medical thing that would happen to me is that we might have an unexpected pregnancy. But to receive this diagnosis changed all of that. Obviously, the first thing that came to mind was the question of whether or not I was even going to be around to see Maddie grow up let alone have another child. Also, it was gut-wrenching to go to the same hospital where we had happy memories of bringing Maddie into our life to instead get cancer treatment. But even with the prognosis of my diagnosis getting better (like a 98% chance of a normal lifespan), the implications of my treatment meant that it would be a year before my active treatment was done. I would have to take Tamoxifen for 5-10 years as well. And I would have to wait 2 years from initial diagnosis before trying to get pregnant. I’d be 38 years old and that just feels too late. There is also no guarantee that the chemotherapy wouldn’t have damaged my ovaries either.

But all of this to say that every side effect, every hot flash is a reminder of these realities. Every time I see the scar on my breast or in my armpit, I’m reminded of what was there, is now gone and will (hopefully) never come back. I know I have a lot things to be thankful for as well. I know it’s not all bad and that my situation is better than many. I know that this is just life and both good and bad things happen. You just never expect those bad things to happen to you. Especially when you feel like you are responsible, you take care of yourself and exercise, you maintain a relatively low risk threshold, etc. And I guess sometimes you just feel bad, because you wish it wasn’t happening.

I think I said this at the beginning of this treatment, but this will be the first 12-week program I’ve every completely finished. While I mostly just let it happen to me, I guess I had the courage to go through with it and take myself to the hospital. The mental aspect of this has been the hardest and most challenging. I know I’m lucky in that, too. I’m fortunate that my side effects haven’t been debilitating. I believe that once I am done with all of my treatment – when chemo and radiation are done – that will be the time to truly heal. That will be the time where hopefully it will be easier to not have so many reminders of the scary things. I am appreciative of all the people who have messaged me with their support, big and small. All of it means a lot to me and really has helped to get through this.

Well, that was my pity party! The main thing I’d want people to take away from me sharing these feelings is not to garner sympathy, but just to realize that sometimes the most well-known or biggest parts of these sorts of challenges isn’t really the hardest part. The hardest part are the little things, the little reminders that make the mental game difficult. And I can say that everyone’s support – even if they are just little messages or reactions to posts here or on Instagram – those help. So thank you! That support has truly been critical for me to make it through this.