"You're my hero," said one of my friends last night. "You've made this situation into an amazing opportunity to better yourself and inspire others," said my other friend. Last night was exactly what I needed. One of my best friend's, Marisa, celebrated her birthday and I felt well enough, despite the week I had, to make it out to her party. I am so happy I did, because being surrounded by my friends really helped give me the strength to shake this horrible sickness and continue fighting.
Friday I was even sicker than Thursday and missed another day of work. I headed back to the hospital to meet with Dr. Heyer (my oncologist) in the morning. He examined me and said one of three things is wrong: I either have a nasty stomach virus (which is most likely), my body is now saying "enough" with chemotherapy and is reacting back, or I have developed CDF from my treatment. He said he wanted to start me on antibiotics for CDF in case it is that, but they won't know for certain until my stool sample comes back Monday or Tuesday. (Yes, I had the luxury of pooping in a cup. Oh joy!)
I asked Dr. Heyer to review with me my midway MRI and heart scan. The MRI showed that the lymph nodes, diseased tissue and even the 3cm hematoma (blood clot and fluid pouch) from surgery had ALL shrunk. He told me that the MRI showed an area of increased brightness (Does that mean the hot spot got hotter!?) and he said that too will not be fully understood until they can dissect the tissue after surgery. My heart scan came back excellent, which pleased my doctor greatly. He said my heart was previously pumping at 62% and now it is at 64%, so there has been very little damage or change.
Dr. Heyer did an exam of the lump under my arm and told me that he is 99% positive that is the hematoma from surgery, but that they won't know 100% what is going on in my body until they do surgery since MRIs and PETscans are too sensitive on breast tissue. That was frustrating for me to hear, but I understand the limitations of imaging. I concluded my appointment with Dr. Heyer by asking permission to go on a weekend get away with my friends at the end of June, prior to surgery. He told me he understood my need to "escape" and supported it 100%. Now I have something to plan and look forward to! YAY … sun and surf here I come!
After my appointment with Dr. Heyer I was put in the treatment room for my weekly Herceptin treatment and a bag of fluid due to my dehydration. My godfather, Bill showed up to surprise me. It was such a wonderful visit and gave me a second wind of energy. I am so very blessed to have such amazing people in my life. I feel incredibly loved and supported. It is a wonderful feeling. Please know how much I appreciate all of you.
I woke up Saturday morning feeling significantly better. I am not sure if it is the antibiotic that is working on my body, or that the virus I have is leaving my body. Either way, I am just SO happy to be feeling more like myself and able to attend some of my friends events. My friend Jessie hosted a Pampered Chef party on Saturday in my honor. A portion of the sales went to benefit the Avon Foundation. The event was so much fun and I am so happy I could attend. And last night I concluded the day celebrating Marisa's birthday. It appears that being surrounding by loved ones is just what the doctor ordered.
Showing posts with label mri. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mri. Show all posts
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
4/15/2008: Anxiety Returns
My heart is racing out of my chest. I am dizzy, nauseous and have broken out in a cold sweat. Oh God, I think I may not be able to make it to the bathroom before I get sick.
The anxiety of having chemo again this Friday is more than I can bear. Apparently feeling this way is normal according to my sisters in cancer who are going through treatment as well. The nightmares, insomnia, night sweats, lack of appetite and nausea all set in Sunday. I hadn't experienced nausea this bad until now. I am completely drained from the anxiety. I obviously try to keep my worries to a minimum with positive thinking, wine and yoga (ahem, and Milano cookies), but there is no way to ignore how horrible chemo makes you feel. You just don't understand it unless you have experienced it. It is like nothing else in this world and the word horrible doesn't even come close to describing it. I dread it each time it creeps closer and closer, but there is no escaping it. I just continue to suck it up and move through the motions despite the fact that each time they place the thick needle into my port (and I tell my Daddy to please look away) I am choking back the tears. I am embarrassed, annoyed, frustrated and just so ready to take back my life. I am starting to forget what it felt like to not be on medication all the time and to actually have a day where I feel amazing. I just want to be normal again ... and soon. I constantly imagine myself during treatment and testing somewhere else laying on a beach, warm and feeling vibrant once again. I long for that day more than you can imagine.
Despite the negatives, I have to remember how lucky I am that my MRI came back as well as it did. This means they don't have to prolong treatment or switch my regimen. Lord knows I can only handle so much. I knew in my heart that treatment was working, but to have that confirmation was exactly what I needed. I cannot believe that this Friday is round four of chemo. (I will be 2/3 of the way done.) Time has flown by so fast, especially between the last round and this one.
I have finally been able to start exercising daily, which always makes me feel better. The problem is I get back on a schedule right before I am laid out by chemo again. My poor little body just wants some consistency. In due time, right? I know ... I believe it, too. It's time to cradle my head in my hands, take a deep breath, wipe the beads of sweat on my brow and just push through these last three rounds of treatment. If I squint hard enough, I can start to see a glimpse of light at the end of this tunnel. Can you see it too?
The anxiety of having chemo again this Friday is more than I can bear. Apparently feeling this way is normal according to my sisters in cancer who are going through treatment as well. The nightmares, insomnia, night sweats, lack of appetite and nausea all set in Sunday. I hadn't experienced nausea this bad until now. I am completely drained from the anxiety. I obviously try to keep my worries to a minimum with positive thinking, wine and yoga (ahem, and Milano cookies), but there is no way to ignore how horrible chemo makes you feel. You just don't understand it unless you have experienced it. It is like nothing else in this world and the word horrible doesn't even come close to describing it. I dread it each time it creeps closer and closer, but there is no escaping it. I just continue to suck it up and move through the motions despite the fact that each time they place the thick needle into my port (and I tell my Daddy to please look away) I am choking back the tears. I am embarrassed, annoyed, frustrated and just so ready to take back my life. I am starting to forget what it felt like to not be on medication all the time and to actually have a day where I feel amazing. I just want to be normal again ... and soon. I constantly imagine myself during treatment and testing somewhere else laying on a beach, warm and feeling vibrant once again. I long for that day more than you can imagine.
Despite the negatives, I have to remember how lucky I am that my MRI came back as well as it did. This means they don't have to prolong treatment or switch my regimen. Lord knows I can only handle so much. I knew in my heart that treatment was working, but to have that confirmation was exactly what I needed. I cannot believe that this Friday is round four of chemo. (I will be 2/3 of the way done.) Time has flown by so fast, especially between the last round and this one.
I have finally been able to start exercising daily, which always makes me feel better. The problem is I get back on a schedule right before I am laid out by chemo again. My poor little body just wants some consistency. In due time, right? I know ... I believe it, too. It's time to cradle my head in my hands, take a deep breath, wipe the beads of sweat on my brow and just push through these last three rounds of treatment. If I squint hard enough, I can start to see a glimpse of light at the end of this tunnel. Can you see it too?
4/15/2008: Anxiety Returns
My heart is racing out of my chest. I am dizzy, nauseous and have broken out in a cold sweat. Oh God, I think I may not be able to make it to the bathroom before I get sick.
The anxiety of having chemo again this Friday is more than I can bear. Apparently feeling this way is normal according to my sisters in cancer who are going through treatment as well. The nightmares, insomnia, night sweats, lack of appetite and nausea all set in Sunday. I hadn't experienced nausea this bad until now. I am completely drained from the anxiety. I obviously try to keep my worries to a minimum with positive thinking, wine and yoga (ahem, and Milano cookies), but there is no way to ignore how horrible chemo makes you feel. You just don't understand it unless you have experienced it. It is like nothing else in this world and the word horrible doesn't even come close to describing it. I dread it each time it creeps closer and closer, but there is no escaping it. I just continue to suck it up and move through the motions despite the fact that each time they place the thick needle into my port (and I tell my Daddy to please look away) I am choking back the tears. I am embarrassed, annoyed, frustrated and just so ready to take back my life. I am starting to forget what it felt like to not be on medication all the time and to actually have a day where I feel amazing. I just want to be normal again ... and soon. I constantly imagine myself during treatment and testing somewhere else laying on a beach, warm and feeling vibrant once again. I long for that day more than you can imagine.
Despite the negatives, I have to remember how lucky I am that my MRI came back as well as it did. This means they don't have to prolong treatment or switch my regimen. Lord knows I can only handle so much. I knew in my heart that treatment was working, but to have that confirmation was exactly what I needed. I cannot believe that this Friday is round four of chemo. (I will be 2/3 of the way done.) Time has flown by so fast, especially between the last round and this one.
I have finally been able to start exercising daily, which always makes me feel better. The problem is I get back on a schedule right before I am laid out by chemo again. My poor little body just wants some consistency. In due time, right? I know ... I believe it, too. It's time to cradle my head in my hands, take a deep breath, wipe the beads of sweat on my brow and just push through these last three rounds of treatment. If I squint hard enough, I can start to see a glimpse of light at the end of this tunnel. Can you see it too?
The anxiety of having chemo again this Friday is more than I can bear. Apparently feeling this way is normal according to my sisters in cancer who are going through treatment as well. The nightmares, insomnia, night sweats, lack of appetite and nausea all set in Sunday. I hadn't experienced nausea this bad until now. I am completely drained from the anxiety. I obviously try to keep my worries to a minimum with positive thinking, wine and yoga (ahem, and Milano cookies), but there is no way to ignore how horrible chemo makes you feel. You just don't understand it unless you have experienced it. It is like nothing else in this world and the word horrible doesn't even come close to describing it. I dread it each time it creeps closer and closer, but there is no escaping it. I just continue to suck it up and move through the motions despite the fact that each time they place the thick needle into my port (and I tell my Daddy to please look away) I am choking back the tears. I am embarrassed, annoyed, frustrated and just so ready to take back my life. I am starting to forget what it felt like to not be on medication all the time and to actually have a day where I feel amazing. I just want to be normal again ... and soon. I constantly imagine myself during treatment and testing somewhere else laying on a beach, warm and feeling vibrant once again. I long for that day more than you can imagine.
Despite the negatives, I have to remember how lucky I am that my MRI came back as well as it did. This means they don't have to prolong treatment or switch my regimen. Lord knows I can only handle so much. I knew in my heart that treatment was working, but to have that confirmation was exactly what I needed. I cannot believe that this Friday is round four of chemo. (I will be 2/3 of the way done.) Time has flown by so fast, especially between the last round and this one.
I have finally been able to start exercising daily, which always makes me feel better. The problem is I get back on a schedule right before I am laid out by chemo again. My poor little body just wants some consistency. In due time, right? I know ... I believe it, too. It's time to cradle my head in my hands, take a deep breath, wipe the beads of sweat on my brow and just push through these last three rounds of treatment. If I squint hard enough, I can start to see a glimpse of light at the end of this tunnel. Can you see it too?
Saturday, April 12, 2008
4/12/2008: Amazing News
What a crazy week. I had my MRI on Wednesday and it went better than my first one back in January. They had to use a special machine because of my port. A breast MRI is really uncomfortable. You have to lay face down on the MRI table with your boobs poking through these two holes and you have a cushion for your face similar to when you have a massage. The technicians pull at your boobs to make sure they are inside the holes. There is a bar that presses against your sternum as you lay there with your arms extended over your head. Then they move you around the table and the machine makes the most horrible noises that are SO loud. Then they give you an IV that makes you taste metal in your mouth and makes you feel like you just peed yourself. I wasn't on the table correctly so my nurse just grabbed the bed sheet and pulled it. I cracked up. She said, well you are so tiny I will just drag you where I want you. The good thing is, the technicians all are amazing. They said when I get my new boobs to come back and show them off. I love those ladies. Dad and I went to lunch afterwards and when I came back to pick up my pictures they told me they had to redo a couple of shots. Boo!
I had my Herceptin treatment today and it was pretty rough. I was only a couple of minutes into my treatment when my chest started tightening and I couldn't breath. The nurse came in and cut off the medicine, put me on saline and then gave me a shot of Benedryl. Now I am totally exhausted, but at least I can breathe now. They waited about 20 minutes then started the Herceptin again. I asked my nurse to check with my oncologist, Dr. Heyer, about my MRI results. She came back and said, "All of your lymph nodes have shrunk." YAY!
Once my appointment was over I went to MRI of Reston and requested a report of my MRI. I'm sneaky! The report has a lot of biological mumbo jumbo that I don't understand. (So I reviewed it with my friend Andrew who knows all about this stuff.) The report says everything is stable or decreased. The MRI still saw the fluid under my incision and said it had decreased from 48 x 35 mm to 30 x 22mm. One lymph node went from 50 mm to 23 mm and the other 15 mm to 12 mm. The area of tissue diseased inside my left breast went from 16 x 7 mm to 10 x 6 mm. And no new lymphadenopathy is evident! (That basically means there is nothing new.)
The report did say, "More prominent geographic enhancement with some abnormal kinetics in the upper-outer left breast compared with prior study. The remainder of the breast parenchyma in both breasts is generally stable. This area could represent neoplasm." Andrew said not to focus on that or worry. He said technically a neoplasm is a precancerous lesion or tumor ... but just because it wasn't there before doesn't mean anything. He also said maybe a few of my "hot spots" (cancer cells) all grouped together to hide from the chemo ... but neoplasms are generally really small. If this was a huge issue I think my oncologist would have said something to my nurse.
So all in all, amazing news. This means chemotherapy is working and the cancer is being killed. This time next week I will be 2/3 of the way through treatment. YAY!
I had my Herceptin treatment today and it was pretty rough. I was only a couple of minutes into my treatment when my chest started tightening and I couldn't breath. The nurse came in and cut off the medicine, put me on saline and then gave me a shot of Benedryl. Now I am totally exhausted, but at least I can breathe now. They waited about 20 minutes then started the Herceptin again. I asked my nurse to check with my oncologist, Dr. Heyer, about my MRI results. She came back and said, "All of your lymph nodes have shrunk." YAY!
Once my appointment was over I went to MRI of Reston and requested a report of my MRI. I'm sneaky! The report has a lot of biological mumbo jumbo that I don't understand. (So I reviewed it with my friend Andrew who knows all about this stuff.) The report says everything is stable or decreased. The MRI still saw the fluid under my incision and said it had decreased from 48 x 35 mm to 30 x 22mm. One lymph node went from 50 mm to 23 mm and the other 15 mm to 12 mm. The area of tissue diseased inside my left breast went from 16 x 7 mm to 10 x 6 mm. And no new lymphadenopathy is evident! (That basically means there is nothing new.)
The report did say, "More prominent geographic enhancement with some abnormal kinetics in the upper-outer left breast compared with prior study. The remainder of the breast parenchyma in both breasts is generally stable. This area could represent neoplasm." Andrew said not to focus on that or worry. He said technically a neoplasm is a precancerous lesion or tumor ... but just because it wasn't there before doesn't mean anything. He also said maybe a few of my "hot spots" (cancer cells) all grouped together to hide from the chemo ... but neoplasms are generally really small. If this was a huge issue I think my oncologist would have said something to my nurse.
So all in all, amazing news. This means chemotherapy is working and the cancer is being killed. This time next week I will be 2/3 of the way through treatment. YAY!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
1/30/2008: CTScan Results
The CT-scan showed nodules in my lungs. The surgeon doesn't seem very concerned with these considering most healthy people have nodules in their lungs. He said he would check them again in six months after my treatment.
The MRI showed SOME contrast in the tissue in my upper left breast. This means that the cancer is in the tissue there. (Now, which came first, the tumor or the infected tissue? They don't know.) They are now 99% sure this is breast cancer.
They have found NO tumors, but want to schedule one more test, the PET-scan,in order to rule out any more growths that would require surgery. The surgeons office is currently scheduling this for me.
I meet with my oncologist tomorrow afternoon and will determine treatment. I will be starting it immediately. After I start, my surgeon said he may want to do a punch biopsy of some tissue in the left breast in order to get a better handle on what we are dealing with here.
So, that is the latest and it looks fairly promising. I will keep you posted as I find out more.
The MRI showed SOME contrast in the tissue in my upper left breast. This means that the cancer is in the tissue there. (Now, which came first, the tumor or the infected tissue? They don't know.) They are now 99% sure this is breast cancer.
They have found NO tumors, but want to schedule one more test, the PET-scan,in order to rule out any more growths that would require surgery. The surgeons office is currently scheduling this for me.
I meet with my oncologist tomorrow afternoon and will determine treatment. I will be starting it immediately. After I start, my surgeon said he may want to do a punch biopsy of some tissue in the left breast in order to get a better handle on what we are dealing with here.
So, that is the latest and it looks fairly promising. I will keep you posted as I find out more.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
1/23/2008: Good, Bad and Unknown
I had my appointment with my surgeon this morning and there is good news, bad news, and still a lot of unknowns. Apparently, it takes between 10 to 14 days for them to run the tests of the tissue and cells that are from the tumor they removed. They are 95% positive that this is breast cancer, but need to wait for the final results from the testing of the tissue/cells to help them categorize the type of cancer and the extent of the damage it has done. Until then, my surgeon said he wants me off of my birth control, which isn't the cause of the tumor and cancer, but apparently the estrogen can cause the tumor/tissue to grow more rapidly and in case there are other tumors, then I need to be off of the BC.
My surgeon did another breast exam and said he is almost 100% positive that we have gotten all of the cancer and that there are no more tumors. Also, the numbness in my arm is temporary and the shooting pains I have been getting up and down my arm means that the feeling is starting to come back. He said it could take about 3 months for it to be back to normal. Good news!
My incision is causing me some issues. I woke up this morning with what I thought was a new lump and lets just say I was hysterical. I ended up having a panic attack on the floor of my shower. I have fluid that has built up around the incision that needed to be drained. (It was pretty painful. I cried through it while my surgeon held my hand.) He said for me to come back in if it happens again. Let's hope it doesn't. The stitches are out though and it already feels a lot better!!!
Now, I have my MRI (Thursday), CT Scan (Thursday) and mammogram (Wednesday/today). Next week, all of those results should be in along with the extensive testing of the tissue/cells, so I can speak with my surgeon again (Monday afternoon) and meet with my Oncologist (Tuesday) to determine a plan for treatment. My surgeon said depending on my diagnosis (exact category of cancer), that will determine the treatment, but he is thinking I should have the standard 16 weeks. He said to basically consider the first 6 months of this year a bust and then life should be better than it was before. Remember how I was sick all the time? It was because of this. I should feel better than I have ever felt before. Good news, yet again.
Please keep my family and I in your prayers and please know how much I appreciate the texts, e-mails, phone calls and visits. I will keep you posted as I know more.
My surgeon did another breast exam and said he is almost 100% positive that we have gotten all of the cancer and that there are no more tumors. Also, the numbness in my arm is temporary and the shooting pains I have been getting up and down my arm means that the feeling is starting to come back. He said it could take about 3 months for it to be back to normal. Good news!
My incision is causing me some issues. I woke up this morning with what I thought was a new lump and lets just say I was hysterical. I ended up having a panic attack on the floor of my shower. I have fluid that has built up around the incision that needed to be drained. (It was pretty painful. I cried through it while my surgeon held my hand.) He said for me to come back in if it happens again. Let's hope it doesn't. The stitches are out though and it already feels a lot better!!!
Now, I have my MRI (Thursday), CT Scan (Thursday) and mammogram (Wednesday/today). Next week, all of those results should be in along with the extensive testing of the tissue/cells, so I can speak with my surgeon again (Monday afternoon) and meet with my Oncologist (Tuesday) to determine a plan for treatment. My surgeon said depending on my diagnosis (exact category of cancer), that will determine the treatment, but he is thinking I should have the standard 16 weeks. He said to basically consider the first 6 months of this year a bust and then life should be better than it was before. Remember how I was sick all the time? It was because of this. I should feel better than I have ever felt before. Good news, yet again.
Please keep my family and I in your prayers and please know how much I appreciate the texts, e-mails, phone calls and visits. I will keep you posted as I know more.
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