Apparently there have been rumblings that I am not blogging sufficiently to satiate the audience. For that I apologize. I have been running around trying to get insurance paperwork completed, Christmas organized, Christmas baking, re-upholster all the furnishings I got from my grandparents twenty years ago, having a wall built and a new doorway installed, Christmas baking, creating a raffle basket for Sydny's Christmas water show (which was a success) and trying to get an IKEA wall unit built - with all the right pieces in the right place - oh and moving my fridge and installing a broom closet in the kitchen. Phew, I'm tired just writing it all down. Top all of that off with the fact that I'm so tired I am only working at about a quarter of my former capacity and you can understand how the hours to blog are few.
I will make it up to you today however. Alot has happened since the last blog so make a cuppa (pause while I go and do the same), get comfortable and read on.
The day after the call booking me with Dr. Dent, I received a call that there had been a cancelation and was I available to come in on Friday, the 9th to see Dr Mark Clemons. Sure. The name meant nothing to me and I was only lukewarm over Dent. My sister knew her and says she would certainly see her, although she is rather aloof. I heard stories about test results not being delivered to patients and problems with her staff however. Also, I looked on-line and there was a very low rating with her with similar complaints. With my sister's assurances of competence however, I wasn't going to rock the boat - I would just have to work harder to make her laugh. So, sure, I'll switch to this Clemons guy, why not?
Man, did I luck out. If you look this guy up on line you get nothing but rave reviews. Also, a friend of the family had some experience with him and praised him highly. So great, I've now gone from the 22nd to the 9th and from an okay doc to a great one.
I truck off the hospital for the appointed time (note: Clemons is lovely but runs way late) and run into a beloved former client and her mom who are there - her mom is undergoing the same thing I am. It was great to have a chance to speak with them about the process and see someone who is way further along in the process than I am and still in great spirits and doing well. Bonus that the doc runs late too:)
About forty minutes after my scheduled appointment time, I'm ushered into an exam room by the lovely Hazel. We go over the forms (that I luckily had received just that morning in the mail and managed to complete despite the dust being kicked up everywhere by my contractor, the fact that I had to become a "contractor's assistant" to get the door hung and the crew working in the front room trying to figure out an IKEA wall unit). I ask about the fatigue and burn out that I was experiencing this summer. Is it possible, I want to know, that I was just experiencing some of the symptoms of my cancer. No, is the unequivocal reply. My cancer was caught too early for me to have been having symptoms. While it is still just a working theory, the current view of cancer among the specialists is that it is caused by stress. In lay terms, everyone has cells in their bodies that could become cancerous. The body's immune system takes care of them and prevents cancer from occurring. However, when we are stressed, the immune system is suppressed and the cancer takes root and grows. What Hazel found surprising was the number of years that I lasted at my job before I developed cancer. Someone please take this to my ADM and DM and make sure that they know what I took for the team!
I change into the required gown and in comes Clemons. Very British, younger than I expected and with a slight lisp - I think. Anyway, I didn't understand a thing he said for about the first ten minutes. After the exam we sit down to go over everything. I take out my pen and paper and he grabs it away from me. "What will I do if you make your own notes?" he asks. "I'm going to write down everything you need to know. But my handwriting is terrible so I hope you can read it!" Seriously? So we compromise. I tell him I won't write (I've already lost my pen and paper so this isn't much of a concession on my part) but if I can't read his writing and answer my family's questions, I'm going to send in my mother, sister and aunt and he can explain it all to them. He agrees, but only because he doesn't fully appreciate the enormity of what I've just proposed. One day he might.
Apparently, there was no patient who cancelled so I could have this spot. Clemons was supposed to be at some World Breast Cancer Conference but, the plane out of Ottawa being fully loaded, the flight attendant collapsed and was taken away in an ambulance. (Hopefully she's fully recovered) Having missed his connecting flight, the good doctor decided there was really no point and returned to work - freeing up space for new patients - including moi. The universe is all connected.
So, we're off. Apparently only the size of the largest tumour is relevant - that's 2.5 cm. The grade is 2/3 and only one lymph node was affected to any relevant extent. The two tests that I hadn't seen the results of yet were also in. My tumours were estrogen receptive - which is great because that means my body can be fed full of tamoxifen (anti-estrogen) as part of chemo and kill the suckers that way. They were also Her2 negative - which is also very positive because that one's really difficult to deal with.
Bottom line: Ten Year breast cancer free survival rate with no further medical intervention - 66%; with tamoxifen - 75%; with chemo - 81%. Dr Clemons looks at me with a smile. "Not good enough. I want a 99% prognosis so let's step it up." The smile fades and the eyes widen, "That's not possible. Even your children don't have a 99% chance of survival over the next ten years." "Fine, you take me to 81 and I'll do the last 18 on my own." Another deal negotiated successfully.
So, the plan is chemo for 16 weeks, once every two weeks instead of every three(dense treatment), followed by radiation - I won't know what the deal is for that until I meet with Genest in January - then hormone therapy and finally other possible surgical interventions to be discussed later.
Doc Clemens then moves on to describe for me the expected side effects of chemo: hair loss, yes!!! Eyebrows raise and he's speechless again. "I want curly hair!" I explain. "Ah!"; puking; fatigue; infections and on and on. Then he turns to me and says, "You've met Hazel. She's a cold hearted bitch." Now it's my turn to raise my eyebrows and stare stupidly. "What? That nice lady I met earlier?" "Absolutely. Anyone gets in her way or messes with your treatment and Hazel will be after them. She'll take such good care of you. You've got nothing to worry about and you just let Hazel know if you have any questions or problems." Unfortunately, I'm sure he's only speaking about things related to my treatment, but even so. I've got a bitch in my corner and for once I can sit back and relax and take it easy while someone does the fighting on my behalf. Now I know what it's like to be the client - and I like it!
The only really bad spot in all of this is that I will have to give myself and injection (in the stomach!!) for five days after every chemo session. I have a real problem with needles and I'm not sure that I can do this. Both my mother and brother volunteered WAY too quickly when they heard about this. My sister and sister-in-law (doctor and nurse) are going to help out and maybe I can eventually take this over on my own - but man, when does the bad news stop? I guess that's the price you have to pay for curly hair.
Later!
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