Last chemo of the year
[picapp align=”right” wrap=”true” link=”term=poison&iid=175982″ src=”0172/d879ebdd-0e88-4578-bf6e-bfc565f8c609.jpg?adImageId=8745325&imageId=175982″ width=”234″ height=”244″ /] Here I sit having chemo on New Year’s Eve, but I might as well take advantage of the fact that I’ve fulfilled my deductible for the year and this $14,000+ session costs me nothing. My bloodwork looks good today, even though I feel like I’m 90 years old. I guess that’s good enough for poison administration.
The latest is that I will have a brain scan in late January to see if the brain tumors are still shrinking. I’m pretty sure they are, but it’s good to check. In early February I’ll have an MRI and CT of the chest area to look at all other tumor sites. This will let us know if the chemo is working and how long I’ll need to continue the Abraxane.
The Abraxane is the “chemo” part of the various drugs I receive. It’s a taxane, derived from the yew tree. This is one of the trees your scout master likely told you not to eat when you were learning how to survive in the woods. It’s the drug that is making me feel horrible. What I’m hoping that is that if all tumors have shrunk or are stable I can ditch the Abraxane and go on maintenance Avastin and Zometa. I think that after a month or so of recovery from the Abraxane I can resume normal life. So, please pray that will happen for me.
So, I enter the new year thoroughly poisoned, with my eyelids twitching and eyes watering because I have no eyelashes. If you ever wondered why you have eyelashes, this is one reason. I am also short of breath when I exert [picapp align=”right” wrap=”true” link=”term=fireworks&iid=222663″ src=”0219/68deb101-f734-4577-80e6-a415008828eb.jpg?adImageId=8745753&imageId=222663″ width=”234″ height=”351″ /]myself in fairly mild ways. This, the doctor tells me, is simply from being out of shape because I’m too tired to keep up with my normal exercise regimin. The oxygen levels in my blood are also a little low, but nothing remarkable — so they say.
If the results of the scans are not good, it’s possible I’ll be popping from one chemo to another for the rest of my life. This would put me in the realm of the disabled. I’d rather not be considered disabled at the age of 50. Yet another prayer request.
I would also like to get my brain in order so I can concentrate enough for some writing I’d like to do. Another prayer request.
I hope 2010 holds great things for my family and yours. May all our dreams come true and our nightmares vanish.