No Different Information

Here we are again. Another month has passed and I’m posting. I thank you all for reading and for your interest. I hope you also learn a tad bit about this hideous disease and share with others.

But it seems like, yes, another month has passed and there is not much to update. In the grand scheme of life, not much has changed for me. (Side note, my recent scans were “fine” and I continue my current medications. Yay!)

Life is busy. There are things to do, places to go, people to see, and dreams to achieve. One day blends into the next with the punctuation of weekends when we can stand down a bit – unless you are retired. (My retired cousin says ‘everyday is Saturday.’)

Seriously, I feel odd sometimes writing these updates because to many of you, there is probably not a lot of new information.

When I first got this diagnosis it was terrifying to me, and also to my friends and family. Here I am 3 years and 8 months later – still alive, still working full-time, still traveling. Still living like many of you.

And yet. I live in 3 month increments. I have no idea if the table will turn and the next set of scans will be the ones that show the cancer has out smarted the medicine. Will this be the month I have to change my medication – and if I do, will it work? What kind of side effects will it have?

So far, I’ve only had to change medication once. That’s pretty f-ing amazing in almost 3.75 years. Hooray for science!

The internal anxiety I have is always present. I’m able to swallow it a lot because work is distracting. My friends allow me think of other things. Being with my family helps me live in the moment.

Today I met with my oncologist. There was a real possibility I would change meds. He said that with the data he has we should stay the course. So, no change in anything. Same meds.

We talked about what is next. I have two options for treatment (Xeloda or Taxol). When that stops working I’ll go to Enhertu. When that stops working I’ll go to whichever of the ones I didn’t chose (Xeloda or Taxol).

There is no cure for this, just treatment. The idea of changing treatment is terrifying – to be honest. Do I show that? No, because I don’t think about it a lot and there is not point in worrying about something out of my hands.

That doesn’t mean that everything is smooth sailing. It’s just not apparent. I have a lot to do, a lot of plans and a lot of new memories to make.

You have that as well. We just don’t often think about the time when we can’t do it, or when we run out of time.

We all run out of time, some of us just know we have less time that others. Very recently someone Glen and I know died from metastatic breast cancer. She and I communicated via email and she was really supportive when I was first diagnosed. She leaves behind a husband and 8 year old son. Her mortality is my mortality and the same for everyone else with this disease.

This being said, I have supreme confidence in science and am looking forward to annoying you all for many years to come with boring posts of non-information. 😃

~~~~~

Second line of treatment (since June 2022):

  • Fulvestrant (injection monthly)
  • Ibrance (oral daily)
  • Lupron (injection monthly)
  • Zometa (infusion quarterly)

Update – November 3, 2022

Winter has given us a sneak peak today. First measurable snow of the season.

I had monthly appointments this week. My CT and bone scans were the same as August. This means STABLE MABLE is back. 🙌

My enthusiasm is tempered a bit by a cranky hip.

My back pain is gone for now, and I’m having trouble walking due to hip pain. So much so that my oncologist ordered an MRI, which I had today. I’m hoping it gives me some answers.

The hip pain means my daily walks have ceased – for now.

Fingers crossed the MRI shine a light on the problem.

Onward!

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Current meds (2nd line of treatment): 
* Ibrance, 125 mg (oral meds)
* Fluvestrant (monthly shots)
* Lupron (monthly shot)
* Zometa (quarterly infustion)

Gratitude – November 25, 2021

Time marches on and today is the Thanksgiving holiday. As I sit here with the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade on, silent in the background and a bright blue sky with frost on the grass, I’m thinking about all the things to do today. And I’m grateful for all those things. I feel “fine” and have the energy to bake pies and help Glen grill a turkey and make a last minute run to the grocery store. Most of that will happen this morning while our teens sleep.

I’m grateful for science too because I have science to thank for this. My doctor appointment last week was “uneventful” largely because the medication to keep my cancer from progressing seems to be (mostly) working. My blood work looked fine and my CA 27-29 tumor marker was steady from last month.

At the appointment we talked a lot about what my scans from last month showed. An enlarged lymph node and a small new nodule in my lung. I remembered that I got my COVID booster 3 days before my scan and the enlarged lymph node was on the side where my shot was. We all think (and hope) that is the reason for that. The lung nodule – who knows?

A friend asked me how I’m doing with so much uncertainty. I believe there are two ways to approach this. I can panic and fret about if the spot in my lung is cancer. I don’t think that is a good choice of energy. I cannot do a single thing about this lung nodule and won’t know more until after I have scans in January. So, I spend the time until then soaking up life and doing things that are meaningful to me.

I’m choosing to live in each moment as much as possible.

I’m trying to read more books, go on daily walks outside and celebrate milestones. Maddy turned 15 earlier this month. Her Golden Birthday (15 on the 15th). We had a birthday weekend celebration that included a movie, dinner, a surprise party and two cakes.

The birthday girl.
Birthday dinner.

Evelyn got her senior pictures and is busy applying for college. She’s interested engineering. We see less and less of her as she and her friends do more and more together (thanks to vaccinations!).

Our lovely Evelyn.

Glen and I are enjoying being “office mates” and continue to find time for walking and cooking and are experiencing more and more empty nester moments as we find ourselves home alone.

I hope you all have a relaxing holiday and find the time to do things that are meaningful to you.

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Current medications: Ibrance, Anastrazole, Lupron and quarterly Zometa infusions. CT and bone scans again in January.

February 4, 2021

Dear Friends and Family –

A few years ago Evelyn did a project for school where she made a calendar. Each day of the calendar was a different “national” day. National donut day (June 4), national chocolate day (November 11), my personal favorite – national wine day (May 25). I’m writing this on February 4, World Cancer Day. Not even national cancer day – WORLD cancer day. Who knew this existed? Not me. Now you do. Take this opportunity to enlighten others about cancer, donate to cancer research (if you have the means), or reach out to someone you know impacted by cancer. (Sadly the list for that last one is probably substantial).

Today I had my monthly treatment and medical visits. These are every 28 days (Thursday afternoons) and fortunately are relatively short and usually pain free. I typically wait to write until I get all my blood work back, which takes up to 72 hours. It seemed fitting to write today though.

I’m still taking the same medication and on the same treatment plan as when I was diagnosed in July 2019. Earlier this week I started cycle 21 of my medication. (We count the time I’m on this medication by the 28-day cycle of the meds.) I’m still taking Ibrance (you’ve probably seen commercials for it on television) and Anastrozole. Those are oral meds and I take them daily. Today I received a shot of Lupron and an infusion of Zometa. I have very few side effects from the medication. My treatment today was pretty uneventful, which is always good.

Lately I’ve been feeling fine. Some days I feel great! That’s the thing about Stage 4 cancer that is weird. I don’t physically feel bad. I’m not incapacitated. I worked this morning. I styled my hair today – I still have hair. I thought about how I didn’t want to exercise and did it anyway. Probably pretty similar to your day in many ways.

I’ll stay on this medication until it no longer keeps the cancer at bay. When will that happen? No one knows. Will I know when it is happening – will I feel it? Might feel exactly like I do right now, I might have some terrible pain, no one can say. How will we know if the medication has stopped working? When my scans show new cancer.

Speaking of which, I’m up again for scans – will have them just before my March appointment. I get them every 3 months. It feels a little bit like the movie Groundhog Day. A lot of repetition. I’m ok with that. In fact, I am grateful for it. It means nothing has changed and that’s the best we can hope for.

I hope those of you on the front lines of health care or enjoying your later years have received a vaccine or will get one soon. Until we all are vaccinated, Mask Up, social distance and stay safe.

Be well.