Keeping Abreast of Ellen

First, I must excuse my tardiness.  Many of you have been so kindly inquiring and I should have posted last week after my 4th round but I'm not sure what happened. Well actually, I do.  Time seems to have escaped me this cycle and I've been having a hard time remembering things as of late.  Nothing catastrophic, I mean I've not forgotten any of my kids at the grocery store or left the house with the oven turned on, but on several occasions I've forgotten that I started cooking something.  No fires as of yet, but Ellen is no longer allowed to turn on the stove!  Perhaps less destructive but more self-destructive, I've begun to forget where I'm going when I start a sentence, or what I was about to do when I enter a room.  My catch phrase has become, "what was I doing/saying?".  I know this seems trivial as we all do this.  And if you know me, you are likely thinking, "yup, that's Ellen!"  But I have taken it to an all new leve...

This week's events had all the makings of a good, wholesome cancer-fighting stew.  Tuesday's oncologist appointment was very productive; after mentioning my nausea, etc from last round, we agreed I could go back on the steroid (Decadron) this cycle to keep things in check.  As it turns out, I will be going back on it for cycles 5 through 8 regardless, in order to off-set the potentially severe allergic reaction that my new chemo drug (Taxotere) may elicit.  So really, I am just starting on Decadron three weeks early.  But I am getting ahead of myself...back to round 4 and my final AC (Adriamycin & Cyclophosphamide) treatment.   On Wednesday, while all three kids were battling their respective lingering or newly developed coughs, I remarked how timely it was that I was finally over my 7-week cough and feeling very close to 100% as I entered the new cycle.  On Thursday, after a quick jaunt to Ikea, I arrived for chemo with a belly full of S...

Sometimes we wish for sunshine but instead find ourselves jumping in (not over) the puddles, getting soakers (and liking it) and remembering how good warm rain feels on our bare legs.  That is kind of how my post-chemo weekend went. Thursday's "round three special" went just fine, made even better by my first class companion, Karen.  She brought me broccoli cheddar soup.  Good, comforting, pre-chemo nourishment, I thought.  Further endorsed by my assigned nurse who had just returned from her lunch of aforementioned broccoli cheddar soup.  Her name was Karen too.  Hmmm...Karen the nurse and Karen the friend carin' for me.  This was a good sign.  I remarked to Karen (my friend) that I hoped we'd be in and out in record time.  <this is where Ellen should have knocked on wood>.  Unfortunately, there was a bit of a hiccup with my pre-chemo blood work.  My white blood cell count from two days prior was 0.5 and I neede...

Spoiler alert:   There are no pics to accompany this post.  Not that kind of blog! So it's Chemo Eve and I'm eagerly anticipating round three.  No really, I am!  You may be thinking I've completely lost it, and I would normally agree - but do hear me out and it will soon make sense. Yesterday at my pre-chemo oncologist appointment, the doctor asked me if I'd noticed any changes in my affected breast, to which I laughingly replied, what breast?  It has been shrinking at such an alarming rate that there really isn't much left to speak of.  I'd hoped this was good news but wasn't really sure what it meant; what if the tumour was simply eating up all my good breast tissue?  We looked back at my MRI results and noted that the tumour size a month ago had been 6cm (W) x 7cm (H) x 4cm (D).  She did a quick examination.  Well, you didn't have to be an oncologist to see that it had shrunk considerably.  She turned to me and gleefully...

I have officially been assimilated.  Last month, I was outfitted with the fantastic, amazingly ultra-modern, super-high-tech, state-of-the-art "Port-a-cath".  I didn't delve into too much detail at the time because, well, I was apprehensive about becoming a Borg.  But now that I've seen it in action, I'm ok with it and feel it is an important part of my...um...what are they calling it now? ...my "cancer journey".  Plus, as has always been the intent of my blog, I'm hoping that sharing my experiences will put some fears to rest. In case you are not familiar, the Port-a-cath is the newest technology in administering chemotherapy.  Instead of receiving chemo drugs via a traditional intravenous in your arm, the intravenous is connected to a little silicone stopper that has been implanted below the skin a few centimetres below your collarbone.  Attached to the stopper is a tube that is routed directly to your jugular vein.  When you go for c...

Very exciting updates I have for you today, are you ready? My spinal MRI results are in and I'm all clear!  No metastases.  Huge relief :^) And I'm bald!  Nere' a hair'ee on my noggin.  And it feels wicked cool.  And alien like.  And quite chilly, in fact.  I can say without hesitation that I am no longer a fan of our ceiling fans. I first noticed things were changing last Thursday when I went to snip (not pluck, as Nelson had trained me) a white hair, and found to my astonishment that it came right out before I had so much as raised the shears.  I then proceeded to swiftly pluck the other 10 or so white strands without any remorse.  Then on Friday, I was gazing down at Imogen's head and remarked, "my, what long hair you have" - then realized I was actually shedding on the poor dear.  Soon after, my scalp became super sensitive, and even the wind rustling through my hair began to hurt.  On Saturday, I fashioned my f...

Me that is, not my blog (sadly)!  Well let's see, our story resumes when I returned home from the aforementioned fabulous makeover day with the girls on Saturday to a telltale scratchy throat.  I was a picture of health at 3pm but around 5pm developed an immensely sore throat, followed by aches, then fatigue and finally congestion and a cough.  All within a 12 hour time frame - very efficient, even for me!  Optimistic, normal me dismissed the fear of an approaching fever (fever is deemed the chemo patient's worst nightmare), but cautious, cancer me started monitoring my rising temperature hourly.  Not wanting to infect my kids, in particular, my newborn, I holed up in my bedroom and listened to them playing outside in the balmy summer-like weather while my husband tried his best to entertain them and care for the baby.  Now, not sure about you, but I personally have trouble minding two kids all day, much less a hungry newborn at the same tim...