Thurs, 1 May 2008
My Dear Friends,
My mistake. I thought I could only blog on our broken computer upstairs. (Before the blog website was taken over by another company, I could only blog on the special login page Mark created.) Anyway, the computer's button is stuck in the "on" position but it doesn't turn on. I promise I will blog more frequently now that I can write from the laptop while sitting on the couch.
The Cliff Notes version is that all is well. I'm maintaining.
Maybe it's good that I haven't written in a while. Saved you the rollercoaster ride. I've been in some dark places and you're lucky I didn't take you with me.
For about two months, I was convinced it had (God forbid) spread to my brain. I was having blurred and double vision in my left eye. It started in the middle of tax season. It was fine in the morning, if I cried or if I closed my eyes for a while. When I got to work, it was really bad. I didn't mention it to my nurses, as I was afraid of another CT Scan.
I was afraid for a long time. When I couldn't take it any more, i followed up with the eye doctor. If he had found nothing, I would've had another scan. But he did find something: blepharitis. Chronic dry eye! I have a dry spot in the center of my vision, he said. He gave me eye drops and told me to blink more often. It'll get better but will probably come back on and off. Once I paid attention, I realized I pretty much stare at the computer without blinking. I was very relieved he was able to pinpoint the problem. I cannot tell you how nervous and terrified I had been.
During tax season I strted having some pains that made me schedule a bone scan. The nurses were really worried about me, as they know by now that I avoid seeing the doctor unless I absolutely have to.
So I had a bone scan and a 2D Echo (heart test) on April 17th. In chemo the following Monday, I asked for the results. The nurses pulled the results and set them on the counter with their back to me.
"That's not good," one said.
I was sitting in the chair, still attached to the IV. I was so scared, my torso started to go numb and tingle.
"Those are my results, aren't they?" I asked.
"Yes."
The nurse told me the bone scan was OK. No new areas, but the existing areas looked "hotter" and had more activity. They explained this could be the "flare up phenomenon" or even healing. As long as there were no new areas, we'd stay on the same chemo.
The heart test was another story. In order to stay on Herceptin, my ejection fraction (the outward pumping volume of the heart) needs to be at 50% or more. The 2D Echo showed a range of 45-50%. I needed to see a cardiologist and take a MUGA test, where they inject a radioactive isotope into your blood and watch it pump through your heart for an exact number.
Saw the cardiologist last week. She put me on Coreg to strengthen the heart pending the MUGA results.
I'll spare you the details of how the nuclear medicine tech student dug around in my arm to find a vein. Luckily, I have a rapport with another tech since I've been there so frequently. He's pretty cool and he ran the actual test so I was confident it would be done right.
He said he wouldn't tell me the results of the test, but that he ran the numbers six times and never got under 50!
Called today for the result. It was 57%. Guess the tech that ran the 2DEcho a couple weeks ago was incompetent. Nothing like being injected with radioactive isotopes unnecessarily.
My cardiologist is out til next Wednesday and her associates wanted her to decide about the heart medicine. I'll decide for her. I'll stop taking it. I'm on enough chemicals already and I wouldn't be on it anyway.
So that was the health rollercoaster.
The other bad thing that bummed me out was that I had an opportunity to take a trip to Europe that I've always wanted. I've been there three times already... the South of France in college and Italy twice when I worked for SupplyTech, the software company. I've never seen Paris, though. So this opportunity fell through and I was inconsolable for days.
A fellow (former) chemo patient just had a seizure and found the cancer has spread to her brain. She has a three year old son. Life is short.
I may go to France anyway.
Thank you for your continued prayers and please pray for my friend.
Love,
Jeanette
My mistake. I thought I could only blog on our broken computer upstairs. (Before the blog website was taken over by another company, I could only blog on the special login page Mark created.) Anyway, the computer's button is stuck in the "on" position but it doesn't turn on. I promise I will blog more frequently now that I can write from the laptop while sitting on the couch.
The Cliff Notes version is that all is well. I'm maintaining.
Maybe it's good that I haven't written in a while. Saved you the rollercoaster ride. I've been in some dark places and you're lucky I didn't take you with me.
For about two months, I was convinced it had (God forbid) spread to my brain. I was having blurred and double vision in my left eye. It started in the middle of tax season. It was fine in the morning, if I cried or if I closed my eyes for a while. When I got to work, it was really bad. I didn't mention it to my nurses, as I was afraid of another CT Scan.
I was afraid for a long time. When I couldn't take it any more, i followed up with the eye doctor. If he had found nothing, I would've had another scan. But he did find something: blepharitis. Chronic dry eye! I have a dry spot in the center of my vision, he said. He gave me eye drops and told me to blink more often. It'll get better but will probably come back on and off. Once I paid attention, I realized I pretty much stare at the computer without blinking. I was very relieved he was able to pinpoint the problem. I cannot tell you how nervous and terrified I had been.
During tax season I strted having some pains that made me schedule a bone scan. The nurses were really worried about me, as they know by now that I avoid seeing the doctor unless I absolutely have to.
So I had a bone scan and a 2D Echo (heart test) on April 17th. In chemo the following Monday, I asked for the results. The nurses pulled the results and set them on the counter with their back to me.
"That's not good," one said.
I was sitting in the chair, still attached to the IV. I was so scared, my torso started to go numb and tingle.
"Those are my results, aren't they?" I asked.
"Yes."
The nurse told me the bone scan was OK. No new areas, but the existing areas looked "hotter" and had more activity. They explained this could be the "flare up phenomenon" or even healing. As long as there were no new areas, we'd stay on the same chemo.
The heart test was another story. In order to stay on Herceptin, my ejection fraction (the outward pumping volume of the heart) needs to be at 50% or more. The 2D Echo showed a range of 45-50%. I needed to see a cardiologist and take a MUGA test, where they inject a radioactive isotope into your blood and watch it pump through your heart for an exact number.
Saw the cardiologist last week. She put me on Coreg to strengthen the heart pending the MUGA results.
I'll spare you the details of how the nuclear medicine tech student dug around in my arm to find a vein. Luckily, I have a rapport with another tech since I've been there so frequently. He's pretty cool and he ran the actual test so I was confident it would be done right.
He said he wouldn't tell me the results of the test, but that he ran the numbers six times and never got under 50!
Called today for the result. It was 57%. Guess the tech that ran the 2DEcho a couple weeks ago was incompetent. Nothing like being injected with radioactive isotopes unnecessarily.
My cardiologist is out til next Wednesday and her associates wanted her to decide about the heart medicine. I'll decide for her. I'll stop taking it. I'm on enough chemicals already and I wouldn't be on it anyway.
So that was the health rollercoaster.
The other bad thing that bummed me out was that I had an opportunity to take a trip to Europe that I've always wanted. I've been there three times already... the South of France in college and Italy twice when I worked for SupplyTech, the software company. I've never seen Paris, though. So this opportunity fell through and I was inconsolable for days.
A fellow (former) chemo patient just had a seizure and found the cancer has spread to her brain. She has a three year old son. Life is short.
I may go to France anyway.
Thank you for your continued prayers and please pray for my friend.
Love,
Jeanette
posted by Mark Kappe @ 7:15 PM
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