First Day Of Battle

Going into the first day of treatment I expressed my fear and anxiety about starting my battle. But I have to say... the actual process of it all wasn’t half as bad as I thought it would be. It could have been because there were so many things happening at once that I just didn’t have time to think about why they were happening. Or it could have been because there was absolutely no time to settle into my thoughts or feelings. And while the day flew by faster than OJ tried on that leather glove to “prove” his innocence, it was also one of the longest days of my life. But I was going to be courageous just like my shirt said. 

Rewind to yesterday morning. I was going on less sleep than my college days. I was getting  ready to leave the house, anticipating being home in 5-ish hours. I wrote out Raylans daily schedule for his Gammy who was babysitting and didn’t write anything past his afternoon snack, confident that I would be home to feed him and put him to bed. Boy, was I wrong. 

 I spent the first few minutes in the waiting room  checking my messages and Facebook, trying to hold back the tears that were filling my eyes. With every single message and prayer and picture of my Pink Warriors wearing pink and thinking of me, I became less fearful and more hopeful. It gave me the strength I needed  to get out of my chair and take steps towards the door when my name was being called. 

My husband Tyler, and my mom were with me for support and as we sat in the small little patient/doctor room, waiting for a consultation with the oncologist, we had a surprise visitor!! My step dad, Rick And his dad, Pawpaw. I was already feeling so loved. Which is exactly what I needed to get through the day. As my oncologist would later put it, I was the celebrity of the day. I don’t know where he gets his information but I tried to tell him that’s me, everyday! 

So the doctor finally comes in and we have a lengthy conversation about some new developments. Here’s the part when I give a pretty big update. My genetics testing has come back showing that I tested positive for the BRCA1 gene. For those of you who don’t know what that means, let me blow your mind a little. It is the answer as to why I have The Big C. It is The Who, What, When, Where and Why to this journey I’m stuck in. We all remember Angelina Jolie having a bilateral mastectomy as a preventative measure to prevent her odds of getting cancer due to carrying the same gene. And gosh, had I known, I would have done the exact same thing. Turns out, I had a 57-87% chance of getting cancer before the age of 85. While it is reassuring to know that pregnancy didn’t cause this or my obsession to Diet Coke (I never lost faith in you, Diet Coke!) it opens a whole new can of worms. This gene has to be given by one of your parents. Meaning either my mom or dad also have a 57-87% chance of getting cancer in their lifetime. Insert pit in stomach.  Mom will be the first tester due to some red flags in medical history on my maternal side. Should it come back positive my uncle will also need to be tested. Should he be positive, his daughter will need to be tested. And so on and so on. Switch sides to my dads side, should he be positive, there is a whole slew of aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins that makes me feel sicker than the chemo did. While it is a great thing that we know and that I have been able to open some doors to my family learning their chances and being able to take preventive measures, it still freakin sucks. The thought that there’s this mutation running in my blood line that can potentially cause people I love to suffer through the same things I’m going through... I would never want this for anyone. Especially my loved ones. 

Meanwhile, having this information did not change my treatment plan.  After the doctor was done feeling me up ((don’t worry!! I didnt let Rick and Pawpaw stay for this part. You Pervs)), I walked the mile to the treatment room. In my head I imagine it looking like the the scene from The Green Mile when he is walking to the electric chair and sparks are flying by him in a dark depressing scene. But really it  was just walking past the nurses station loaded with free hats and scarves and pamphlets. 

I get my own private room. Which is so nice!! I was prepared with coloring books and playing cards and movies but the reality of your first treatment is that you don’t have time to do Jack! There was a doctor in the room at least every 5 minutes, with mounds of information. It won’t be like this every time but they have to be diligent when they are putting poison in your body.   My plan for the day was mapped out like this: We were lookin at about a 4-5 hour day if everything went as planned. But has anything gone as planed in my process? Nope. Not once. To put it in the words of my oncologist, I am the perfect case to teach to his students because I have literally covered almost all aspects of breast cancer. Stage 3 Grade 3 Tripple Negative, Positive genetics, Fertility, massive tumors that were misdiagnosed in the beginning, Chemotherapy, Immunotherapy trial, bilateral mastectomy, radiation... the list truly does go on. I’m a full encyclopedia of information to study. 

 My appointment time was 9:30 and I was not even in the treatment room till almost 11:00.  I’m really not mad about this part. The fact that my doctor is so invested in me and the information I require from him, is such a blessing. I would be concerned if he brushed me off to keep to a schedule.  He truly is amazing. And gives so much confidence that he has my best interest at heart. This man is going to save my life. 

My port was accessed which I was a nervous wreck about. I had globbed on as much numbing cream as could in hopes that wouldn’t feel a thing. And even 4 hours later, it was still ok! 

(( Above is my nurse Amy. She is pretty amazing too and I’m lucky to get stuck with her during this! We will be good friends. )) 

 What wasn’t ok was the amount of times the IV would stop and beep if I moved in the slightest bit. After my blood work and half way through my premeds my sweet nurse had to deal  with my nervous breakdown when she told me she was going to have to re do the access. With no numbing cream. I don’t know if I was a hysterical mess because of the idea of a needle going into my chest that was just cut open two weeks ago or if it was the anxiety and emotion of the entire day that was coming out all at once. Thank goodness my dear friend stopped by at just the right moment to hold my hand. 

Once things were settled again and I was on the right path to being able to start all my meds things ran pretty smoothly. I had a nice little Benadryl nap while my mom updated friends and family and Tyler tried to calm his nerves by watching a movie. 

About 15 minutes into the third IV drip, that was to last about an hour, I started having a mild reaction. This sounds bad. And it didn’t feel great. But the positive that I’m holding on to is that the IV bag that I was currently getting was the Immunotherapy trial. So does the burning and itching throat, rash and itchy skin, and chest tightening mean I didn’t get the placebo?! And may have actually gotten the medication?! We won’t know. But I would say it looks pretty promising considering I had already had 3 million liters of saline with no reaction.  The bad news about all of this is that it prolonged the process even more. We had to reduce the drip speed after we were able to get  the reaction under control. This got us out of the hospital around 7:40PM. At that time, my step mom had stopped by to visit, mom was worn out bless her heart, and Tyler had already headed home to spend time with Raylan before he had to go to bed.  Luckily I was able to get a little FaceTime with my munchkin too. 

It was an okay night. I slept pretty decent from being pure exhausted and full of antihistamines. Today I had some mild nausea that I stayed on top of, some weird tingles in my toes and a few bone aches. But nothing really worth complaining about. I also look like I’ve been to the Bahamas and didn’t wear sunscreen (doesn’t that sound better than the reality?!) But because of the steroids I’m feeling ok today. We will see what the week will bring. 

I am expected to start losing my hair in 6-10 days and I have already lost a lot of my tastebuds. Nothing taste good and water is my best friend. But honestly, as of now I can’t really complain. I’m sure when the steroids wear off it will be a different story. So keep those prayers coming! 

I have to say, there is no way I could have gotten through the day without the encouragement everyone was sending my way. It actually deserves its on post. And will get one. But for now, until I’m able to stay awake longer than 25 minutes at a time let me just say a big thank you to everyone. I am truly blessed. The gifts that were given to make my treatments more manageable. The meals and groceries to help my family during this time. The encouragement and pink clothes!!! It is beyond touching. My support system is my backbone right now. People had stepped up to help in ways I never imagined. And I’ll never be able to find the words to express my gratitude. 

Mark your calendars for May 21. That is my projected date for the final treatment !! We will celebrate and rejoice when we hear the doctor tell us we had great response from all of the poison!!