Well my good week has come and gone this cycle with nothing remarkable to note, except the edema in my leg is starting to come back. Just in time for round #3! This will be the last round before my next scan to assess how the treatment thus far has worked. I don't know if saying I'm looking forward to the scan is the right way to put it, but I am anxious to get it so I know how the chemo has worked and how aggressive the cancer is. I have a routine visit and blood work tomorrow before my next infusion on Monday. There is a possibility the results of the genetic testing may be in by now, so I'm half expecting to get those results tomorrow as well. That makes me anxious. I want to know what the cancer is, but I don't want to hear the worst possible scenario - pancreatic cancer - and that's still one of the possibilities. Gastric cancer makes the most sense with my history of Celiac disease, of course, but when they tell you they think it's upper GI in nature, pancreatic is always in your mind. Not that gastric cancer is that much better, but it's still better. I keep hoping they'll come back and say, "We were COMPLETELY wrong! It's lymphoma!" But I know that's about a .00005% chance. Ok, maybe a little higher than that, but still slim. It's funny how you hope for certain cancers, even though there is no cure. Lymphoma means it's where it should be and we can knock it into remission with a proven treatment plan, but it's still not a pretty cancer. It's still a battle. I guess it would be a battle I could prepare myself for, though, with a known schedule and known expectations.
From what I've read, around the third or fourth infusion, most people hit a low point, becoming exhausted both physically and mentally. I'm glad I read it because, coming up on my third infusion, I can prepare for it. It's like the baby blues. You have no control over yourself, but at least you know why, and that makes it tolerable. I hear it gets better after that, though. I'm counting on it. Right now, more than anything, I need a plan. I need to be able to get into a routine of living, not of being sick. I know I have a long road ahead of me, but I also know I can't spend the rest of my life with two weeks down and one week up. And good LORD I'm bored! At this rate I'll spend all of the money I have saved up going out to lunch and shopping, and I'll be stuck in the house forever! I need to do something. If I can't go back to work, I need to find a hobby. So let's hope this infusion and scan bring a sense of where we are and what we're up against so I can plan my future. At least my immediate future.
The one thing about the 3 week treatment rotation, as opposed to the 4 weeks I got with my first infusion, is that my taste buds don't have a chance to recover before the next infusion, so suddenly I find myself on a mostly raw foods diet. Cold, raw foods are about the only things that consistently taste good. Rather convenient how healthy this diet is, so I suppose worse things could happen! When I was pregnant with Katherine, my diet consisted of fruit smoothies and anything beige in color, so this is probably much better. Having said that, if anyone has a recipe for awesome raw foods (mainly types of salads, I guess), I'd love to hear them. Keep in mind I despise tomatoes (and that is not too strong of a word). Tonight I'm making a nicoise salad for dinner. I have tuna to sear and yummy potatoes and green beans to steam. Yesterday I had a Mediterranean salad, while Sean and Katherine had spaghetti. Family dinner takes on a whole new meaning when you are limited in what you can eat.
On a final note, I hope you all watched the Stand Up 2 Cancer telethon and donated what you could. I know you could (and still can!) text $10 to them, and every little bit helps. Thank you to everyone who participated. Even awareness brings about change, so thank you. To date, the telethon raised over $81 million and officially partnered with St. Baldrick's to form the Pediatric Dream team, so that's great news! The more news like this, the better! Today I received my SU2C "In the Fight" tshirt and Dorje necklace in the mail that I bought. The necklace is the Tibetan symbol for Diamond Lightening, or Indestructible. It was created by a cancer survivor as a symbol of what cancer CAN'T do. I can feel its power already.
Ok, I'll be back next week some time to update you all on how the infusion goes. Thank you again to everyone who has reached out (and those who read quietly!) for all of your support. I honestly feel like I have an army of friends and family standing behind me now, lifting me up when I need help, fighting along with me. It's very moving, very inspirational, and I love you all for it.
xo,
Lisa
Lisa, for some reason I didn't know . . . I suspected based on your FB updates, but reading this I now know. Can't believe it sister, cancer. You should be too young for that, or too smart, or pretty. I mean, I know it happens to anyone and everyone, but I'm just sad knowing this. If after your next treatment you are bored, but up for a trip, I'd be totally game to pick you up and drive you to the beach for a day to just chill. Take care. -heidi
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