I'm divorcing Taxol and marrying FAC

Last one, baby ..

When I started this diary of my travels with Herschel it was mostly for me .. a way for me to wrap my brain around what was happening to me. And, too, I hoped it might help another who may be newly diagnosed and wondering just what was ahead in terms of treatment and life changing symptoms. It's been harder to keep up with of late. Partly because I am so exhausted and partly because I am so bored with this whole chapter of my life. I hate complaining and, frankly, the last couple of weeks have been pretty tough.

Taxol is cumulative so the effects slowly build up over time. My course of treatment was twelve weeks and up until about week eight, I was still rocking along pretty well. And then things changed. Someone carelessly left a brick wall in my path and I smacked right into it. Repeatedly. So while I hate to complain, in the interest of educating others on the effects of taxol, here I go:

Neuropathy: My feet and hands have been tingly for weeks but it's almost reached the point of pain. It's a known side effect of chemo, I just hope it goes away.

Chemo tummy: Ugh. I know, too much information but chemo tummy is a cross between food poisoning and someone lacing all your meals with habanero peppers. It has varied from week to week but it's pretty much been a constant the whole twelve weeks.

Sore mouth: For the last six weeks or so I have experienced a 'scorched' feeling in my mouth. As time as gone by, my tongue and taste buds are completely screwed and everything tastes salty. Too salty. Ironically, things like chicken broth which should be salty, aren't. Nothing tastes as it should so I've been less interested in eating (a good thing) and frozen juice popsicles elevated to "perfect food" status. They just feel so damn good.

Skin changes: For a while I noticed an improvement in my skin. But now it's gone downhill. Dry, itchy and subject to breakouts. No bald woman should ever have to suffer pimples too. I'm just sayin'.

Hair loss: I started losing my hair between weeks 3 & 4. So Dave shaved my head. Since then it's grown back to a small degree (I still have lots of skin showing) and the color is white (LOVELY!) and the texture of a toothbrush (Oh GOOD!) I think this re-growth is chemo hair that will eventually be replaced by normal hair but it's not likely until I am completely finished with the second round of chemo. My mother hates it when I run around 'naked' but The Wig feels like a cabbage on my head and scarves are too much trouble. I don't mind wearing hats but with constant hot/cold spells, the hats come off too when the temperature (internal or external) rises.

My eyebrows and eyelashes have always been thick and they have thinned significantly. I might lose what's left with the start of FAC chemo, I just don't know. I haven't shaved my legs or pits since January (Yay! A PERK!) and yes, THAT hair is also gone too. Too bad my bikini figure is but a mere, distant memory ....

I don't even try to fake it any more. Still, Dave can usually make me smile, even when I really don't feel like it. The weariness shows all the time now.

Fatigue: As you know, this has been my nemesis. I have never experienced such life-sucking fatigue in my life. There is no respite. Even sleeping does not relieve it. The smallest tasks requires a rest afterward. I can't walk for more than 50 yards without feeling completely depleted and having to sit for a minute. The muscles in my legs feel like I've run a marathon with a backpack full of rocks. Being so tired and weak makes me cranky and emotional. Intellectually, I know the downsides are proof that the drugs are working but after twelve weeks of this, I am very susceptible to tears and feeling sorry for myself. For five minutes. Dave lets me have five minute pity parties on a regular basis but then, party's over and it's time to get happy. It's a good arrangement except when he catches me crying in the dark in the middle of the night. There are no time limits when I cry in the dark. Dave is a saint.

So, now I am done with Taxol and this week I start the new chemo regime of "FAC". FAC is a cocktail of three different drugs given via my port in my chest. While the Taxol was cumulative, the FAC apparently packs a big initial punch. I expect all the symptoms of Taxol to only intensify with my first treatment of FAC. Then, according to my oncologist and every chemo nurse I've quizzed, I should start to come back slowly. The treatments will be every three weeks rather than weekly so not having to go to Houston every week is already making FAC more attractive. (You might have to remind me I said that next week.)

Okay .. all of that having been said, last week I learned from my ultrasound that Herschel is now fully smaller by half. HALF! That is awesome, welcome news, right? I was thrilled. Makes all the ugly side effects a little easier to bear.

Wednesday, before the FAC treatment, I see my oncologist to get the results from my CT scan and chest x-ray. Hopefully, all the other freaky little things in my lungs, thyroid, liver and kidneys are blissfully unchanged. If so, it confirms they were nothing to worry about anyway.

So, we're off to see the wizard in a couple of days. We're halfway home and counting our blessings. You are most certainly among them!

Showdown at the Boobie Corral ..

No. 11 and counting ...

The photos don't lie. I am so very tired. Up until about three weeks ago I was still maintaining pretty well but I've hit a brick chemo wall. I feel like I wear concrete shoes most of the time and you know how I feel about shoes. Still, if fatigue is all I have to complain about I still consider myself pretty lucky. I tell myself all the time, "it could be worse".

I met my breast surgeon (surgical oncologist) yesterday and I really liked her and her staff. She's very professional but made sure to accommodate my hearing loss and took lots of time in answering my questions. I feel I am in excellent hands .. again. I can't stress enough how pleased I am with my care at MDA. Each and every person there has far exceeded my expectations and when you consider the thousands of patients seen there every day, the efficiency of this place is astounding.

My doc laid out my schedule for the next six months or so:

Twelve weeks of FAC chemo, once every three weeks.

Surgical removal of Herschel & diseased lymph nodes.

Five or so weeks to recuperate from surgery.

Five weeks of daily radiation therapy.

I was shocked at the radiation schedule. It's not an option given the size of my tumor at diagnosis. Recurrence of cancer with surgery and radiation is 7%. If I add the use of estrogen blockers for five years (since my tumor is estrogen responsive) it drops the recurrence rate to 3%. Logistically daily therapy for someone who lives in Grapeland is a nightmare but I think we have it worked out. It will mean spending my weekdays with my brother and family who live near Katy as there is an MDA facility where I can receive treatment. Once again, I'm being cared for .. and in a glorious heaven-sent manner.

There are several things going on in the near future on my behalf. The graciousness and generosity of family and friends continues to amaze me .. humble me and make me feel very loved.

My daughter Ashley has organized a "Fun Run" on my 54th birthday in Willis, Texas. You can read all about it at this link.

And my very dear friend (since high school!), Bob Stephenson, is offering $100 hog hunts on his lease just north of Cleveland, Texas. You can read more about that and get contact info here.

I also have canvas Hannah prints available for $125. + shipping. These are signed and numbered by artist Marcia Molar. The original painting is in the "Cowgirl Up!" show this month in Wickenburg, AZ. Marcia generously donated all proceeds of prints sales to me in my fight to decimate Herschel.

All funds raised go into a special fund that covers travel expenses (gas/tolls/parking/meals) in our travels to and from Houston (six hours round trip). At the end of my treatment any remaining funds will be donated to The Rose, the organization that treats uninsured and low income women and where I received the biopsy of Herschel last November. They were also instrumental in getting me on the road to treatment at M. D. Anderson, the premier cancer hospital in the Universe.

So next Wednesday is a busy, busy day. I start at 7:00 am with chest x-tray, then a CT Scan, then chemo (last Taxol!) and then an ultrasound. Please offer some extra prayers that the results will show a much reduced Herschel, a reduction in the inflammation of my central lymph gland and that the cysts on my liver/kidneys and thyroid, as well as the "spots" in my lungs are all unchanged. Eternal heartfelt gratitude for all the love and support. I couldn't be more grateful.

No. 10

My very best friend since high school, Belinda, graciously and generously accompanied me to chemo number ten. She also waited on me hand and foot, bought all my favorite chemo foods, made sure I drank plenty of water, put extra blankets on my bed, made sure I made it safely up and down the stairs, and loved me as sincerely and profoundly as anyone could ask for.

We've shared so many things over the years, some good, some bad, and always she has been the voice of truth that I could trust in. I can't imagine that having a sister would be any more remarkable than what I share with Belinda. I love her dearly.

Of course I took my camera to chemo like I always do but we forgot to take pictures. Belinda offered later, during my oncology exam (while I was topless), but I politely declined. You're welcome - see I am always thinking of you!

In the three days I was with her we shared heart to hearts and popsicles. She made me eat yogurt and blue berries .. and buy a bra that hitches my girls to a more acceptable level of 'perk'. She shopped till I dropped and brought me countless outfits to a dressing room where I huddled in various stages of undress while she "styled" me in a way that only she can. She's a dynamo, a wizard and true star. Of all the gifts I have in this life, Belinda is one of the best.

Medically, my issues the week before chemo No. 10 were primarily low blood pressure. I had three episodes of near-fainting. And I am not a fainter - in my whole life I have never gone completely out. My oncologist agreed that perhaps halving my blood pressure meds would alleviate the problem and so far it has.

On the 16th I meet with my breast surgeon for the first time. I don't think surgery will occur until after all chemo is complete. I have two more Taxol treatments before I start the FAC routine on the 30th. I'm a little anxious about it since I keep being told all the symptoms of Taxol will be amplified with FAC. I am so ready for this to be done.

I don't even pretend to be tough any more. I accept my wimpiness only because I know it's temporary and necessary. There are days I wonder if I will ever feel like myself again but Dave assures me I will. Without him and all of you who constantly encourage and support me, I know this road would have been infinitely harder.

I'm grateful for this experience because it's shown me beyond all doubt how much love surrounds me. And it's just bad form to be whiny when you're being so profoundly loved!

A bit of Hannah medicine

I don't think I am a scarf person

But this morning at five am I didn't really care what I looked like. I had to rest after taking a shower. Rest after brushing my teeth. Sit and rest while I put on my makeup. (Hey. When you're bald .. you work harder at the other stuff.) And yes, putting on my mascara is just exhausting but a girl's gotta do.

But it's back to hats for me. Scarves are just too labor intensive and I need to conserve energy for mascara application.

Dave and I have a system. I get out and open & close the gate when we leave DRH. He gets the gate duty when we return. But this morning I was so weak I asked him to please catch my gate shift. He did so, of course. But I thought, that's the first time I haven't been able to do that. It bothered me.

I dosed off and on during the trip into town. When we arrived at MDA we went straight to get my blood work done with my personal "Stick It Angel, Tori". She is wonderfully efficient. Draws blood, first stick EVERY time.

Then we went to Infusion Therapy to get my "port accessed". (I told you last week what that means so if you don't know .. scroll down.) It's not as bad as it sounds. The alternative is far worse. But I felt weak even sitting there, on the gurney, having it done and I nearly blacked out. I went horizontal for a couple of minutes and the feeling went away. I'd never done that before and have only come close to fainting a very few times in my life.

When we got to chemo, my blood pressure was 101/69. Hm. Well that's why I felt so poorly. I think my BP meds are working overtime to lower my pressure and they might not be necessary right now. I'll have to talk to the doc about it. During chemo my BP went to 142/80 but it always rises slightly during chemo. I'm not sure why.

I slept through most of my chemo. And then we were outtah there. I'm always glad to get there (and out of traffic) and I'm always glad to be finished (and on my way home) and I'm really, really glad to get home. (Cause Dave has to open the gate!)

Only 10, 11 & 12 to go in this round .. wahoo!