No Benadryl!

Today I began Cycle 3. Arrive at Dana Farber for a 6:50AM appointment for a blood draw, but wasn't taken back until 7:25. My "person" was really, really odd. He wasn't yet prepared. He was scattered. He didn't have gloves. He didn't have my tubes ready. He was a mess. Up to the 9th floor to see Dr. Christina. She wasn't on time either, but not too bad. She has a new PA, and for the life of me, I can't remember her name. There was no reason to see Dr. C particularly. I have nothing to report, and yet we managed to touch on a number of things that were important.

And then to treatment. I got Katy today! My original primary nurse who I do like an awful lot. She brought up the pre-meds stating that I would have a tiny bit of the benadryl. I countered that I thought we were going to nothing today, and she did not disagree. So today, I successfully received Taxol with NO benadryl. Oh what a relief! No sleeping. No fuzziness! And the most important thing? No allergic reaction. Since we finished with an Xgeva shot, I did get that headache, but it is so much better!

So, I think I can do this Taxol thing with only the pepcid. This might just be a good thing.

Oh, and the tumor markers are way down! 20%!!!!!

Seven Years

Seven years ago, today, Dr. Roger informed me that my PET scan indicated that I had tumors outside the breast. I was a metastatic breast cancer patient. I remember so vividly the impact of that statement. I was one of them! In fact, my worst nightmare had come true. I went from being an early stage, low grade, no node patient to everyone's worst nightmare– an early stage, low grade, no node patient who progressed!

The average life span for a woman with metastatic breast cancer from the moment that the tumors are found is 2.5 years. Today, I pass the seven year mark. This is a startling statistic. But mine were found really early. Earlier than normal, so I now have seven years... I am an outlier.

Today I reflected on the life I have had during these seven years. So much life has been lived. So much life has entered mine.

I am in the process of giving up my professional life, which has been a big part of my self-identity. Collateral damage, just like playing the violin. Cancer takes the things that you love bit by bit.

It is a choice, however. How do you want to live once you know living will be in short supply? I have decided to celebrate everything that I have been given. A life well lived. Wallowing in self-pity wouldn't give me any joy, and I believe heartily in joy!