My Chemical Romance

My chemo sessions are broken down into two cycles.  The first cycle is comprised of 4 sessions with a chemical cocktail. Yeah...a chemo cocktail, not a refreshing alcoholic cocktail. So, every other week, I sit through a two hour chemo session. 

The chemicals are supposed to be pushed through the port in my chest, but as you can guess from reading previous posts, I have not been the luckiest of people. Each time a chemo session begins, the nurse inserts a syringe and draws blood. This indicates the port is functional and the chemo flows to the main artery. Unfortunately for me, the nurse has been unable to draw blood and the sessions have been administered through a vein in my left arm.  This is not a good protocol to follow and consequently, I was referred to the hospital for a port study.

The port study will determine if the port is defective and will have to surgically be replaced or my body is producing clogging agents.  After a quick cat scan, I was told the port is fine and my body was the cause of the clog.

Next up for me is the 4 hour drip appointment.  This drip will unclog the port and on Wednesday, I will have a less stressful chemo session.  This drip however, does not guarantee the port will stay clogged-free.

My first 4 sessions include the cocktail mix of Adriamycin(R) and Cyclophosphamide. Adriamycin(R) is a vesicant. A vesicant is a chemical that causes extensive tissue damage and blistering if it escapes from the vein. The amount of Adriamycin given depends on the patients' height and weight, general health and the type of cancer.

In my case, Adriamycin is given in the form of three syringes.  Adriamycin is bright red in color and produces urine of the same color.  The syringes are inserted in the IV first and then Cyclophosphamide is administered next through a drip. 

Why did I titled this post My Chemical Romance? Because I have a love/hate relationship with chemo. Let me break it down for you:

Hate:

• True to the info sheet, I began losing hair at day 14
• Extreme fatigue and muscle weakness
• Nausea
• Diarrhea
• Poor appetite

Love:

• Poor appetite
• Weight loss YAY (I'll take it any way I can)
• I have lost a total of 18 pounds
• Eating smaller portions
• Hating the taste of sodas
• Hating the taste of chocolates

Yes, this is a full confession of my chemical romance. BOOM.

It's Not A Pleasure to Meet You, Triple Negative

What I hadn't realized before my diagnosis was the fact there are several different types of breast cancers. Triple Negative, unfortunately is the breast cancer, one doesn't want to have.  With this type, the three most common types of receptors known to fuel breast cancer growth are lacking female hormones: estrogen, progesterone, and the HER2/Neu gene. This makes common treatments like hormone therapy and certain drugs that target theses receptors ineffective. Triple Negative breast cancer grows and spreads quickly; however especially in its early stages, it responds well to chemotherapy.*


*The Silver Lining: A Companion Guide, Jacobs, Holly, RN, MS, MSW; 2014, Atria Books

Hello Triple Negative, I Hate You

I met with my surgeon to discuss the findings of the biopsy and surgery options.  Of course, as luck (or lack thereof) would have it, the results of the biopsy was disturbing.  She reported I have Triple Negative, the breast cancer which was aggressive and nonresponsive to female hormones.  Hello Triple Negative, it's not a pleasure to make your acquaintance and one more thing - I hate you!

With the diagnosis of Triple Negative, I had two choices of surgeries. A full mastectomy or a less invasive option, a lumpectomy. The surgeon recommended the later since I caught the tumor in the beginning stage.  She also informed me, she would insert a port into my left breast and take 7-10 samples of lymph nodes. The surgery would be outpatient and would take 3 hours.

I chose the less invasive option.  The faster I could rid my body of this unwelcomed guest, the better off  I would be.  Surprisingly, the thought of surgery did not faze me.  There was no apprehension. None of the usual sleeplessness that accompanies anxious thoughts. Nada. Zip. I could not wait for July 31st to roll around.  I wanted no part of Triple Negative.

What did bother me was the answer I received from the question "would I lose my hair?"  The surgeon responded with an stern "yes".  To say I was stunned, is an understatement and I'm not ashamed to report, tears welled up in my eyes.  Another reason to hate you Triple Negative!

For those that know me well, I am very particular about my hair.  I have it cut and styled on a regular basis (actually, every 4 weeks) by an extraordinary stylist I have seen since 2003. Every other month, my hair would receive highlights. I love my hair and it loves me back.  To be parted with my hair is unthinkable. Yes, yes, yes, I'm aware it will grow back, but I've been told it will grow back gray and in about 6 months.  Gray?? In 6 months?? Unacceptable! There's got to be another option.

But for now, I needed to psych myself up.  Ready myself for battle. Triple Negative, I will defeat you!

Living on a Rollercoaster

This was not a dream, this was real and it involved me.  My life as I knew it, had been turned upside.  No longer was I this privileged girl, who skirted through life with focus and direction.  In the past, I had the uncanny ability to achieve goals with little or no effort. Now,  I was no longer that person with the perfect family, perfect life and the perfect profession.

Soon after the notice, I had another mammogram followed by a biopsy on July 1. The biopsy indicated the mass was located near the chest wall and was approximately 1cm in diameter.  The radiologist indicated the mass tissue was indicative of Stage 1.  In other words, the growth was still in its infancy and had not spread to the lymph nodes.

Following the biopsy, I received a call from The Virginia Cancer Institute.  Through them, I was scheduled for an MRI and an appointment to meet with a surgeon.  The MRI confirmed the location of the mass was against the chest cavity and lymph nodes appeared not to have been affected. Whew...(at least that was good news!).  The meeting with the surgeon was not an easy one.  This appointment was more of a crash course in Breast Cancer 101.  The surgeon explained that most common cancers had hormone receptors. She explained, the receptors are proteins found inside some cancer cells. When hormones attach to these receptors they make the cancer cell grow. If  my tumor was hormone receptor positive, I would receive hormonal treatments that would prevent cancer cells from getting the particular hormone needed to grow.  Tumors that are negative for hormone receptors are not treated with hormone therapies.  This type of cancer is called Triple Negative, the cancer the surgeon hoped I didn't have.

Support Group

Last night I attended my first Breast Cancer Support Group.  It wasn't quite what I had expected.  Although there was a large group of women present, ranging in ages 30 to 70+, I found the majority of comments a bit condensing in nature.  To be honest I was disappointed; from the conversations I have had (with nurses and my doctor), the group would be embracing, supportive and each women attending would make a "connection".  I don't feel I connected to anyone.

When asked about my greatest fear, I opened up and revealed "the loss of my hair", I was bombarded with comments such as "your hair does not define you", "your hair should be the least of your problems", "your hair will grow back", etc., etc.  I had hoped for sympathetic comments like, "I know that fear and I support you", or "I would love to help you overcome this fear". I felt uncomfortable and was not able to voice my opinion on those head wraps. Each of those women just raved about the scarves and all the fabulous ways to wrap one's head. I don't want to wear that "badge of honor". I don't want to be identified as "having cancer".  The one comment most condensing, "you hair doesn't define you". I'm not stupid, I know my hair doesn't define me, but my hair is tied to my comfort zone, my security, my self-esteem.

What do I want from this group? I would love to make new friends to assist me in my journey through those long months of chemo and radiation.  Will I attend the next meeting? Give this support group a second chance? I don't honestly know. Deep down, I want this group to work for me, I want that "connection".