Who’s Winning?

A couple weeks have gone by, and nothing big has occurred as far as health goes.  My round #3 of infusions was on May 13, 14, and 15.  All went well with the infusions.  I got the “shot box” * attached to my arm at the end of the Wednesday infusion to go off and inject me with the neutrophil building medication 27 hours after the ending of the Wednesday infusion.  I felt fine until Friday.  I got extremely fatigued and felt overall blah but could not put my finger on anything specific.  I was worried that this was my new normal.  The following Monday I woke up and was my old self again!  Yay!  I realized that this fatigue and off feeling must have been the accumulative effect of these chemotherapy/immunotherapy infusions, but they do not last.

* ”shot box” is a term I have given this infusion since it is asmall box that will give me an injection at a specified time.

Tuesday, the 21^st, my husband had a heart ablation procedure.  I was really happy I was feeling good and could be with him for this procedure and able to drive us back from the hospital.  Yes, I have learned at our ages, if it’s not me, then it’s him.  We have both recovered from these procedures.  We were even able to do a cousins lunch a couple days later.  I love that I have cousins in the area who want to get together with us for lunch and a visit on a pretty regular basis.

This week was busy with my oldest son flying from St. Louis, Missouri for a few day visit.  A year ago (well before I was diagnosed with anything bad) we talked about me sharing my life story with my kids.  Their dad got Alzheimer’s and died before they had an opportunity to do that.  I told them last year, when they wanted to do that, go for it.  I had done this with my mom, and I have a lot of my dad’s story in writing well before they died.  I understand wanting those stories before we are too old or too sick to share them.

My son videoed our discussion, which we did over two days.  We had fun doing that because not only did we follow along with his prepared questions, but we also found side topics to talk about or for me to sing about.  I am not a singer, but songs pop into my head—not great songs, usually funny songs or songs that fit my generation.  I never sing a complete song because: 1) I probably don’t know all the lyrics anyway and 2) I am not a great singer, but I can carry a tune–usually.  You really don’t want to hear my repertoire of songs!

The next two weeks will be big weeks in my life.  Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday (May 4-6) are chemo/immunotherapy days.  Again, they will attach that little “shot box” on my arm on the last day.  Dennis and I are flying Thursday morning to Springfield, Missouri, to attend and celebrate the college graduation of my granddaughter, Niki, who is graduating from my alma mater, Missouri State University (which was Southwest Missouri State College when I graduated in 1970).  

I was told to let the airline know I have a “shot box” attached to my arm.  By my calculation, this shot should go off around 3:30 p.m. Arizona time, which will be 5:30 p.m. Missouri time—probably while we are sitting in a restaurant.  The box will start making a low buzzing sound for a few seconds and then a needle will pop out of the box and poke me in the arm, and the medication will pump into my arm.  It takes a few minutes for that to happen.  Then it will stop buzzing, and I will have Dennis look at the box because it has a “gas gauge” on it, and it should state “empty.”  I still have to keep it on my arm for another hour before removing it.  The needle will have retracted and we just throw the box in the trash!

We fly back home on Sunday, May 10, which is also Mother’s Day.  Monday morning, I will be getting a CT scan and a brain MRI.  That afternoon my 2^ndborn son will arrive from St. Louis, Missouri.  He will also be here to complete the life story video and also be with us as we meet with my oncologist on Tuesday morning.  

At the meeting with the oncologist, we will go over the results of the scans.  I will learn if the four rounds of chemotherapy and immunotherapy have worked.  Did it substantially reduce the size of the tumor cells in the lungs, liver, and brain?  Will those tumor cells be gone?  Wouldn’t that be great!  Or do we need to do something more drastic to attack these nasty big boy cancer cells that want to invade my body?  Will it be more chemo?  Will it be radiation?  What will be the next steps?  

May 13 will be the beginning of whatever my new normal will be.  I am glad I will be very busy the week before these scans are done.  There is a thing called “Scan Anxiety” where the thought of these scans can cause a lot of anxiety wondering what they are going to see that I cannot feel inside my body.  I will remind myself continually that I am in God’s hands.  He already knows the results, and nothing will take him by surprise.  He will also hold me in place that I can continue to have “peace with passes understanding.”