I recently completed my 8th month of chemotherapy. I have four months left to complete 12 months of chemo. I have been pretty darn blessed throughout the process. I have been lucky enough to be able to take chemo in the form of pills, take them at home, and sleep through whatever horrible things it is doing to my insides. I made the mistake one month by taking the wrong anti-nausea pill before my chemo and that, my friends, is a mistake I will never make again. I quickly discovered what I think others who do not handle chemotherapy well experience. I was hugging the porcelain throne for several hours that night. I woke up my poor husband who got a blanket and rested on the bathroom floor next to me until I was ready to try and drag myself to the bed again. It was not pretty. Other than that night I do okay. Occasionally I am more tired by the end of the chemo week, but nothing I can't handle. I also work out a lot and feel that combats most of my fatigue.
There have been a couple changes in my doctors since the last time I posted something. I was seeing a radiation oncologist, a regular oncologist, and a neurologist all in Jacksonville, FL and a neuro-oncologist in Atlanta. I loved my neuro-oncologist in Atlanta, but driving back and forth even every couple of months was getting tiresome. I found out that my insurance was accepted at Mayo in Jacksonville, FL where they have the only neuro-oncologist in Florida. I talked to my docs in Atlanta and made the switch. She was happy to hand me off to Dr. Jaekle. I now see just him. I was released from seeing a neurologist and oncologist because Dr. Jaekle is both. Dr. Jaekle prefers to do MRIs every two months (as opposed to every 3 months that Dr. Dunbar was doing). My last MRI was the end of January and all was clean as a whistle! I say, if it could be any cleaner I would be cured. My next scan is at the end of April and I am expecting similar awesome results.
Speaking of being awesome, during the past year or so I kept hearing this thing called IDH1 mutant gene. I did not know what it meant, what it was or how it affected me. I finally asked my doctor about it and discovered that it was favorable to have this gene. In terms that I was finally able to understand, my doctor shared that the IDH1 gene allowed my tumor to stay localized. What does that mean? Well, when my tumor decided to rear it's ugly face again last year, it did so on the outside of the cavity of the previous tumor. As most of you know, my surgeon was able to do yet another, beautiful, total gross resection...meaning he got all that he could see with the human eye. A total gross resection followed by radiation and chemo gives me a much higher chance of long term survival having the IDH1 gene than not having it. You can read more here: http://www.ascopost.com/ViewNews.aspx?nid=14004
Side note: this article is not in any way, shape or form representative of my doctors views. I just found this and wanted to share in case someone reading this was having a difficult time understanding what I was trying to say. Please ask your doctor about this if you have any questions.
Just as I suspected, I am going to beat this thing called cancer. Every day more and more advances in cancer treatment and care are coming out. I am blessed to live in a world where I have a fighting chance. I also have strong feelings about maintaining a positive attitude along with the treatment for the one-two-punch-jab-kick-and-upper-cut that fighting cancer needs.
Thinking back, I believe my last post was about losing my hair when I was going through the six weeks of radiation and chemo consecutively. As you might have read, going in to the third week of radiation I started losing my hair...and losing it fast. I took control and wound up shaving it. It was liberating and terrifying all at the same time. I invested in scarves to wrap my head with and did that for about 3-4 weeks before I said "to hell with it" and just started rocking it bald. I even got married bald! Once I got through the feeling that everyone was looking at me, I embraced it. It felt good to feel so strong despite being faced with such a "terminal" illness. I wanted people to ask me my story, I wanted to share with them what I have been through. I wanted them to see that cancer does not define who I am. Cancer does not define the person facing it. My name is not Cancer. My name is TARA and I am kicking cancers ass. So when life hands you lemons...make the best with what you got...be that lemonade or a lemon martini!
That's all for today, folks. I will try not to take so long next time to write another blog. :)
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