Desperation

I am taking this opportunity to do a little writing while I have the chance. Claire is watching Finding Nemo, and Nadia and Dion are sleeping. Now is the time.

Ummmm...let's see....my echocardiogram came back fine. My mole biopsy results are not in yet, hopefully I will get a letter in a week or so saying nothing was found.

I had my first treatment of Herceptin. It was an hour and a half long iv, and I felt fine through it, and in fact felt fine for about 5 hours. Then it hit. Have you ever had the kind of flu where your WHOLE body feels like it was run over by a car or 20? I got desperate to get rid of the pain. I lied on the couch moaning, wondering how it was possible that I had pain everywhere...and when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. Think think think....YES! I still had meds from when I did chemo! I tackled the stairs, baby steps, one at a time, looking a lot like an elderly person. This is where being a packrat, a saver of all things ("I might need this someday") is a blessing. What wasn't a blessing was the damn plastic/foil packaging in which the pill was trapped. There it was, taunting me, so close, yet so far. I found a pair of nail clippers and clipped my way into the package. Ah! Salvation! I gobbled the pill down and made my way back downstairs.

As most of you know, I tend to be a little impatient. A little. Just a tiny bit. "Son of a!" That was really all I said, the kids were around. A new journey was at hand, not upstairs again, but to the main floor bath, where I have my GOOD meds, a pharmacy of leftover narcotics. REAL salvation. Darvocet. Two of them. Not only is that a good pain killer, but they are hot pink in color. Pretty. I made my way back to the couch (again) and layed down. Dion looked over at me and asked the following question, "Is it ok to mix Kytril and Darvocet?" To which I responded with....."I don't care. But if anything happens, I took one Kytril and two Darvocets." And I fell asleep. Nothing happened, so I guess it was ok. All that was left of the pain when I woke up was a headache, which I could handle, life was good again. Until two days later when I paid the price for taking a narcotic. Let's just say that I popped a blood vessel in my eye, and leave it at that. So that was my Herceptin adventure. My oncologist called and asked how it went. I told him a shorter version of the above story and he said "Wow! It will be better the next time. I promise, or you can kick me." I told him I wrote down the time and day that he said that and he quickly added, "You can only kick me in the leg!" I better go practice kicking things to warm up, just in case. We'll see on Tuesday.

So my veins are crappy. When I did chemo I had a port which is this plastic thing with a catheter. It kind of looks like a little stethoscope. It is placed under the skin, and the catheter is put directly into a large vein that goes into your heart. It is supposed to make things easier for chemo, blood draws, etc. I hated mine. In fact, it was removed as soon as I could get out. I was a little persistent about getting it out ("I want it out NOW!") with my surgeon, and she took it out. So I tell her about my new 48 week long adventure with Herceptin, and she said "Boy, I sure am glad you wanted that port out so fast." Well, crap. Didn't that just bite me in the butt? So, this coming Thursday it's back to the operating room (the COLD, FREEZING, you'd-think-they-didn't-pay-the-heating-bill operating room) to get another port put back in my Frankenboob body. Never a dull moment.

So that's that. I will go looking for some pictures of the girls to post. I am amazed everyday at them. From Claire being able to put a 12 piece puzzle together, to Nadia running through the house. I love it! I am blessed. I am loved.