This is where the rubber meets the road. Chemo starts tomorrow.
Giving ourselves 2 extra weeks was a good move for us. We hadn't thought through all of our options and weren't ready to take action until we were sure of our direction.
We certainly aren't happy that chemo is the next step, but at least we have made peace with that choice. It boils down to this: At stage 3, there is a 44% chance that surgery alone will cure you. When you add in chemo, radiation, and hormone therapy, that number jumps to 80%. (Let's not think about that other 20% right now, ok?)
The problem is that no one knows which of the three groups you will be in. 1. You may not need chemo at all. 2. Chemo will be the reason you are cured, or 3. Chemo will just buy you time.
I would love to believe that I am in the first group and that if I just drink kale juice smoothies I will be fine. But I could never live with myself if things get worse and I hadn't done chemo. I don't want to ever explain to my family that chemo was just too scary and inconvenient so I couldn't be bothered.
So here I am, staring down the barrel of the most challenging chemo regimen available for breast cancer; dose-dense AC+T. I will go every other Thursday from now until the first part of December. First up are 4 rounds of AC (Adriamycin and Cytoxan), aka "The Red Devil." Yep, it's red. And yep, it burns. The nurses wear thick rubber gloves and something like a hazmat suit to make sure they don't get it on themselves. This is not comforting. At all.
Last week I had an internal port installed. This allows the chemo to inject directly into my chest wall, rather than having to be poked in my arm each time. It really completes the Frankenstein look that I've got going on my chest right now. All I need are 2 bolts for either side of my neck and I'm set.
Today I go for one final check at the cardiologist. Chemo is hard on the heart, and they need to make sure mine is OK before we start.
Next order of business to to pack my chemo bag for tomorrow. The September issue of Vogue will definitely be at my side, as well as my amazing, make-other-girls-jealous-because-he's-so-handsome husband. And some dark chocolate.
Love,
Susan
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Hola Sooz!THough we are in the throes of getting Stuart Married, we will DEFINATLY be holding you up before your loving Father's throne throughout this entire long weekend! As per your heart, He can make a perfect heart...a merry heart doeth good like a medicine, and He is the strength of your heart. We'll belive with you for good heart health throughout chemo. xxxxxooooo Auntie Kristin and Uncle Ron's rent a kid/meals on wheels is at your service!( We take pay in Hugs and Kisses) Love and prayers, R&K
ReplyDeleteWow. All I can do is sigh. Deeply. I have been praying for you & your family daily. Thanks for keeping us all informed. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me".
ReplyDeleteSo I have a picture in my mind of that slogan for Women workers with the gal in the bandanna and her sleeves rolled up- saying 'we can do it'- although it's 'you can do it'! Even if you feel like Frankenstein you are beautiful and you can do this!!! hugs!!! <3 Libby
ReplyDeleteWay to go niece. I wasn't going to try to influence you, but I'm glad you made that decision. I finished my series of 6 chemo treatments a couple of weeks ago, and while it's no fun, it's not as bad as most people think. If things aren't going well, please get in touch with the doctor. I thought that I would just tough it out, and caused myself problems. The medical people will understand, and have ways of helping, if you give them a chance.
ReplyDelete