Chemo Prep and Wig Woes

Well, it's been a sobering few days. 

Tuesday I went in for my chemo education hour with a nurse.  She was great.  My mom and Eric came with so they could hear everything, too.  She went over all of the side effects and how to treat each one.  After we were done I said, "So basically I have to keep everything wet."  Yes.  Behold:

-I need KY Jelly  or nose spray for my nose because it will dry out.
-I need Vicks to put on my nails and cuticles every night because my nails could flake.
-I need to put lotion on all over my body 2 times a day.
-I need chapstick for my lips.
-I need mouthwash to keep from getting sores and dry mouth.
-I need to push fluids and drink a minimum of 64 oz. a day (bonus, ice cream counts)

Additionally, I need to get plastic utensils (sorry, Mother Earth) because silverware makes all food taste like tin.  I should also get peppermints to ease my stomach. 

Tomorrow, I'm going to Meijer.  The pharmacy is going to love me. 

Then she showed us the room where they administer the chemo.  It's quite nice!  They have private rooms, semi-private rooms, and chairs just out in the open area.  They have TV's, seats that overlook a fountain, and my favorite, tables with jigsaw puzzles!!  I love me a puzzle.  They also have snacks but you can bring your own.  The atmosphere was communal.  Like a dorm, if that makes any sense. 

I met a few of the nurses and I had a feeling I would soon be buddies with them.  One of them then administered my Zoladex injection, which is the one that will protect my ovaries.  I have to get that once a month.  She put an ice pack on my stomach to numb the area and told me not to look at the needle because it's thicker than most.  I took her advice.  The ice pack helped though.

Overall, it wasn't too bad of a day, and I'm always happy to have education to prevent from filling in the blanks with negative thoughts.

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Today was more disappointing.  I had an appointment to visit the wig boutique and get a wig.  I was happy my mom was coming along with me, and I was actually really excited for it, because I thought it'd be fun to try different looks.  I stupidly forgot one major piece of the puzzle though.  I'm less than 5% of the population of women diagnosed with breast cancer under the age of 40.  (Hello, blog title.) 

I walked in and was happy to see that the volunteer was probably around my age and had a nose ring.  (I was jealous.  I've been wanting one myself!)  She had me fill out some standard paperwork, and then gave me a small magazine and told me to look through and pick out ones I liked for her to pull, but said she couldn't promise that she'd have all of them.

I kind of smiled when I saw that each of the wigs had a girl's name.  Clever.  As I searched through and looked at each picture, I thought, "No...no...nix...that looks like a mullet...no..."  Then that's when my heart sank, and the stat reared it's ugly head.  Not many people my age are in this spot, so it would make sense that not many wigs are made for my demographic.  And no offense to my older sisters out there, but the magazine was like looking at a Golden Girls wig line. 

First she had me try on wigs for color purposes alone.  I wanted to stay with brown and I ended up going with medium brown.  It had a richer color with more dimension.  Then we went on to style.  I gave her three wigs I liked, but she only had one of them.  It was also tough because the wigs were mainly grey or blonde, and it was hard to get past the color and imagine what it would look like in a brown. 

My mom wanted me to try this one on.  We both agreed it was a no.  But now I can see what I look like with grey hair! I thought I looked like Chetna (below) from The Great British Bake Off!

I ultimately went with a wig named Melissa.  My mom thought it was a little too formal because it has curls in it, but when I put bobby pins in it, it looked nice.  I also liked that I could put it in a ponytail.  The volunteer also said I could take the wig and get it trimmed a bit to take some of the length off and trim the bang however I wanted to.  She also said that it looked a little funny because I had so much hair underneath right now, but that once my hair is gone it will fit better and not pucker at the top. 

The wig I chose as pictured in the catalogue.  As I look at it, it kind of reminds me of Mandy Moore in the early 2000's.

 

UGH.  Me trying to grin and bare it.  I can't get past the blonde. 

I figured I'd better check my demeanor.  I didn't want the volunteer to feel like I was ungrateful.  It wasn't that at all, and she was lovely.  I think I just went in with too high of expectations.  I mean, the wig is free from the American Cancer Society.  So many people work to raise money to go to things like this.  Beggars can't be choosers.  I figure, fingers crossed, it will come in the color I chose and it will look better and all come together. 

So feeling somewhat defeated, I went to pick up Julia from school.  I should have known that would make me feel better.  I got there earlier than usual, so Julia was in the middle of her snack.  One of her teachers invited me to eat snack with her and said, "Julia, why don't you show mommy where we wash our hands."  Julia was so cute.  She acted like I was a guest in her home.

She turned the water on and said, "Here, mommy.  Wash your hands first.  This is where you do that."  I washed my hands, then walked over to where the snack was and she narrated the whole time.  "Here, mommy.  First you put a napkin down on your plate."  She then scooped fruit into a bowl for me and said, "The berries are very juicy."  Then she said we got 6 Nilla Wafers, and counted them out.  Finally, she lovingly poured me a glass of water.  It was so nice to be doted on! 

So Tuesday, I report to battle.  But at least I know I have an army of supporters behind me, including my smallest one.  And for that, I am truly grateful. 

Scar

What is a scar?

A scar is a mark from your past.
It's a historical map
of the places you've hurt.

Over time they fade
But not completely
They'll always be there
A reminder of the cause

A fall
A burn
A slice

Sometimes the source may make you smile
Other times, it may cause you sorrow

Some choose to hide them
Like a shameful secret
Some choose to display them
Like a badge of honor

Regardless of the source
And regardless of the manner
The outcome is the same

You are changed

Chemo It Is

Well, what I thought from the very beginning has been confirmed.  I'll be doing chemotherapy.  It's so crazy how all this works.  You spend so long waiting, and then you hear the news and then it's go time again. 

So basically this oncotype test evaluates the genes in your tumor and essentially exposes the "personality" of your cancer.  You receive a score that tells you where you fall on the spectrum of the likelihood of a recurrence and the benefit of chemo.  If you score 18 and under, your chance of recurrence is low and the benefits of chemo are low, so you wouldn't do it.  If you score over 30, the chance of recurrence is high and chemo would reduce that risk by 40%, so it's best to do it.  If you score in the middle, that's where it gets tricky.  In studies, there weren't many women that landed in the middle range, so there wasn't enough statistical data one way or the other to determine if it was beneficial or not.  That's where I scored.  I scored a 28. 

 

So chemo it is.  I'm young, this is the second time around, and he said it was a grade 3, which meant under the microscope my "cells were angry."  However, the chemo I'll be receiving is tolerable.  It's a combination of Taxotere and Cytoxan, or TC.  Dr. U said that there's really a multitude of side effects that could happen, all of which I can't even remember right now.  It's also tough because who knows if I'll experience all of them.  He did prescribe me 3 anti-nausea medications that I'm to take prior to my first session.

The other piece I have to do ahead of time is an injection one week ahead of time to essentially "turn off" my ovaries.  This chemo has a 20-30% chance to cause infertility, but I can receive an injection once a month to preserve my ovaries and prevent infertility from happening.  I also need to schedule a time to go to the wig boutique to choose a wig. 

I'll admit, there were a few tense moments.  He explained that there's a 0.2% chance of getting leukemia 8-10 years down the road from the chemo.  He said normally any side effect with that percentage he wouldn't even mention, but that he should.  Then my dad was visibly irritated, and said, well last time they said it was a 2% chance this would come back and here we are.  Dr. U explained that anything we do is all about eliminating risk.  That wearing a seatbelt doesn't mean you won't ever die in a car accident, but it reduces the risk. 

So then we had to plan the calendar. The main side effect is extreme fatigue 2-3 days after the treatment.  So I had to choose if I wanted to be tired during the week or during the weekend.  Initially I thought I would do it during the weekend so I didn't miss a lot of work.  But then as I sat there thinking of it, if I did that, the 2 main days I get with Julia would be diminished.  I also figured, if I'm tired on Thursday or Friday, Julia would be at school and away from it all most of the day, and there's always a chance I could work from home. 

He asked if I had any time I wanted to be good for, and I told him the week before Memorial Day weekend since my mom's whole family will be in town.  So we worked around that, and took into account that I'd do treatments on Tuesdays so I was good for the weekend.  So that landed us at April 4.  I will do four treatments 3 weeks apart. 

After that, I was off to pick up Julia.  We stopped at Meijer to drop off my prescriptions and pick up some bread for dinner.  As we drove home, she asked me about my health.  Our conversation went something like this:

J: Mommy, do you still have your ouchie?
M: Yeah
J: Are you still sick?
M: Yes
J: Oh, yeah.
M: Mommy has to go to the doctors to get more medicine.  It's going to make me lose all my hair ok?
J: Oh, your ouchie is going to make you lose your hair?
M: No, the medicine I have to take will make me lose my hair.  But the medicine will get rid of my ouchie.
J: Ooooh, but it will come back.
M: Yes, you're right, my hair will grow back.  So it will be very short, but it will get longer.
J: Yeah

I wasn't planning on telling her then, or this early, but I felt like she asked and it was a natural opening.  I also feel like the more I talk to her about it in a matter-of-fact way, maybe the better she will accept it.  I was talking to one of my best friends on the phone yesterday and told her I was most likely going to need chemo (at the time it wasn't confirmed yet) and she said, "How do you talk about this so calmly?" And I said, "Because this is just my life now.  You just do it and deal with it."  I feel like that's how Julia's dealing with it, too. 

I'm sure in the next few days I'll process some more, but for today I'm grateful I have a plan.  The waiting is over.  I have answers and a timeline.  For me, that means a lot. 

Waiting

It's interesting how things you normally see all the time suddenly seem different or register differently.  The other night Julia and I were reading Oh the Places You'll Go by Dr. Seuss.  The book is typically for kids or high school graduates.  But as I was halfway through, I thought of myself as the character going through my cancer journey.  These are the pages that rang true to me.

 

 

Tomorrow I go see my oncologist.  I got my oncotype score, so we'll be talking about what it means.  I'm not ready to share it yet because I don't know 100% what the course of treatment will be with the answer.  I mean, I'm pretty sure, (like 90% sure) but I'd rather wait until I know for sure what's happening. 

 

Right now I'm living in the first picture.  The one about waiting.  I've always said the waiting is the worst part.  The what if's, the unknown.  I like knowing where my foot is going to land.  Tomorrow though, we'll know.