Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Well, that's done

No more chemo. Yesterday was my last infusion of the hated taxol, along with a triple dose of herceptin. It hasn't really sunk in for me yet.  Everything went very smoothly - I'm so grateful for the care provided by the Grand River Regional Cancer Centre. I can't say enough about the kindness and compassion of the nurses I have encountered on my visits there. Herceptin will continue every three weeks for the next year, but infusion is pretty quick, and the side effects are pretty negligible.

We don't seem to have a good grip on the nerve pain from the taxol, but I will continue with the gabapentin for this last round, rely on lots of leg and foot massages from Supportive Husband, and moan and groan as needed. Last time around the pain had the black dog of depression nipping at my heels; thanks to the crappy weather, I had to beat it off with an umbrella.

Speaking of managing side effects, each chemo round has been followed up 24 hours later with an injection of a drug called Neulasta. Neulasta helps the body regenerate white blood cells at an accelerated rate to help prevent infection. The price tag per injection? $2600. No, that's not a typo. 8 rounds of chemo x $2600? You do the math. Neulasta is NOT covered by OHIP. When I was first told the cost of this drug, I nearly passed out. Fortunately, the cost IS covered by Supportive Husband's drug plan. I encourage each of you to take a close look at your own drug plans. If you're not covered, there is another drug option, but it requires 6 daily injections instead of just one, and costs a mere $2000 per chemo round. You can apply for coverage for this option through the Trillium drug plan (NOT for the single injection version), but you have to pay up front, and there is a deductible. Just sayin'.

Last week sweet, funny Bailey and I showed up at Wellfit dressed like twins - including the Under Amour caps. Maybe Under Armour should sponsor us? Even our socks and shoes match (ok they're inverted white and blue, but close enough.) Everyone had a good laugh.
















The long weekend saw us out enjoying the Blair trail again. We saw many birds we have never seen before, and even saw some orioles nesting. Here's a selfie of us; the slope behind us is covered with trillium. I've never seen so many trillium in one place. Beautiful. As you can see, Supportive Husband shaved his moustache in solidarity with my bald head. Chemo does have its benefits ... Still can't get him to ditch the old man hat, but hey.
















By the way, there ARE some advantages to being bald. You save a lot on shampoo (ok, not that much if you buy cheap shampoo like we do, but still). You also save on hair cuts. You certainly save a lot of time on styling. Supportive (?) Husband claims he can change the TV channel from almost anywhere by beaming the remote off my dome. On a warm day, the breeze on your head feels fantastic. You can also create a bug-eyed jaw-dropping moment for a bus load of primary school kids when you mindlessly remove your hat on a walk to enjoy the aforementioned breeze ... sorry, kids.

Next up for me in the process: 4 weeks of recuperation and getting blood counts up, and then surgery (scheduled for June 17). After that, 6 weeks or so of recovery, then 5 weeks of daily radiation. Then 3 months of recuperation. One day at a time.

We are so grateful for the support you continue to bless us with. We feel God's presence through these tangible acts of kindness; just writing about it brings tears of gratitude. Knowing so many are praying for us is also deeply moving, and makes it possible to move forward with hope. Thank you. We continue to pray for other dear friends and colleagues at different stages of this long and scary journey: Jackie and Sam, Sheila and Steve, Alison and Mark. Your prayers for them would also be deeply appreciated.






Tuesday, May 6, 2014

7 down, 1 to go



Saw this little guy on the way to getting bloodwork this week. One person's tree damage is another chickadee's castle ... love those sweet birds.

When you arrive at the cancer centre for bloodwork, you first register to get your wristband (almost as cool as going to a rock concert). Then you head up to the bloodwork desk, show your wristband, and get your queue number. As I arrived at the desk this week, I stuck out my wrist and said "I'm Lynn Bergsma Friesen". The person at the desk said "you're WHAT?' I said "that's my name". She said "oh - thought you said you were freezing". Hmm - never heard that one before ...

It's starting to feel like the chemo phase in the journey is getting closer to the end. When you pick up your pre-chemo meds from the pharmacy and they actually say zero repeats remaining, its quite a thrill.














The thrill is tempered by the news of two new diagnoses of cancer in our circles of friends/colleagues. As they begin their own journey, trying to find their way in a world that seems turned upside down and inside out, they will remain in our thoughts and prayers.

My doctor has doubled my pain medication to deal with nerve pain from the taxol. I will be more than 50% of the 7 dwarfs all on my own: Sleepy, Dopey, Sneezy, and hopefully blissfully Happy.

The chemo suite was so crowded today that I got my own private room -  so great! Felt like I was living large. Can you count the number of drip bags hanging from the IV pole? As you can see from the giant tome in my hands, I'm actually readying. Yes, my reading skills are steadily improving.



 In addition to significantly less edifying things, I've begun reading the following by James Martin, SJ.

I invite any and all of you to read along with me. 

I remain grateful for the Wellfit program at UofW. It is humbling and inspiring to see people of all ages, shapes, sizes and abilities all focused on being as healthy as they can be. I was particularly moved this week by a senior citizen who needed a walker to move around the gym, but was still working on range of motion, balance, and pumping some iron! You go, girl. 

We continue to be so grateful for the thoughtful and concrete expressions of support you so graciously bestow on us. Thank you.