Update – Life As I Know It

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. 😃

This was the first outdoor walk, out of our neighborhood that I’ve done since October. My hip is finally starting to really heal.
View from Sandia Peak in Albuquerque. I was there for work.
Glen and I with cousin Dave and Jill. Fantastic (to short) visit. Explored the University. Colorado campus after brunch and before a hike.

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Second line of treatment (since June 2022):

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

Looking for Balance

It’s been a busy couple of weeks. I was at the oncologist this past week. Short version: stay the course for this month. Things look “ok”.

Every 3 months I have a CT scan (neck to pelvis) to check on the cancer and see what it might be doing. The results of my CT scan last Monday show nothing remarkable. This is excellent because it means the cancer has not spread. It’s still just hanging out in my bones.

The oncologist ordered a bone scan before my March appointment. The bone scan literally images the bones, toes to top of the skull.

We are a bit worried about the tumor marker from my blood work. The CA 27-29 tumor marker can give an indication if the cancer is active. My value has been slowly rising and then almost doubled last month. This month it dropped almost as much as it rose last month. What does this mean? Unclear. It’s unusual for me to see these big changes so it’s raised some concerns. Tumor markers are not necessarily sufficient on their own to give a picture of what’s going on. The oncologist won’t use this data alone to make decisions. So, we get a bone scan and re-evaluate next month.

I recently wrote about new treatment options for MBC. I was waiting for blood tests to come back to see if Orserdu might be an option. This newly approved medication only works if an ERS1 mutation as developed. I don’t have the mutation, so this drug will not be an option. If I do need to switch medication, the next option is chemotherapy.

These past few weeks have been difficult. In particular I’ve had chronic pain that is tough to deal with, as some of you know. It’s hard for the pain (and MBC) not to take over my life. So, I’ve been focusing on finding balance.

My guess is you are looking for balance too. So many of us are. Too much focus on any one thing in life is unhealthy and yet it’s easy to get swept up.

Thankfully, the past month I was able to enjoy a dance competition Maddy competed in, found a few new shows to watch while walking on the treadmill, met friends for coffee or lunch, and took a long weekend trip to Wisconsin to see some friends and family.

I keep looking carefully at how to spend my time – finding the right mix of fun, rest, and spending time with people who are important to me. I hope you can do the same.

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Current treatment:
Ibrance, 125 mg (oral) + Fulvestrant (injection) – Prevents cancer cells from dividing + estrogen blocker
Lupron (injection) – induces menopause
Zometa (infusion) – bone strengthener

Woah, we’re half way there

Quick check in now that I’ve got 5 of 10 radiation treatments completed (with a music nod for a title to my fellow Gen-Xers).

Fortunately, things are going smoothly. The radiation staff are great. I’m literally in and out. I leave the house at 8:30 am and am back home by 9:15. (Watch me jinx myself for tomorrow!)

I don’t have any notable side effects (at this point). I’m slathering up with lotion and staying hydrated.

They do the same procedure every time so it does go a tiny bit quicker than the first time. On Wednesday I had a check in with the radiation oncologist which went fine.

Also on last Wednesday I had my monthly medical oncology appointment. That didn’t go as well. It was “fine” overall. My neutrophils were low (1.02) and normally they’d let me restart my Ibrance medication with that value but because of the radiation they are holding those meds for a month.

I get 3 shots each month. 2 were in my right hip and it seems like one has hit a nerve so I’m have some really unpleasant side effects with that.

On Friday I learned my tumor markers have almost doubled as well. Why? Could be many reasons. Not really sure.

So, it’s been an eventful few days.

On a fabulous note, I read a book on Saturday (Big Little Lies, recommend!) and Sunday watched both football games. It was a very relaxing weekend.

I’ve not been able to get outside for a good solid walk since late October. The weather is helping me to be less sad about that. It’s very Midwest-like with overcast skies, cold and occasional snow.

Soon the weather will break and I’ll be up and about. Darkest before the dawn!

Be well my friends.

View of the mountains from the cancer center parking lot this morning. You can barely make out some of the foothills. I’m ready for some sunshine!

Radiation and tattoos!

Well, I’m entering a new chapter of cancerland: radiation. I have avoided the radiation dance up to this point.

Alas, here we are.

One of the ways they monitor my metastatic breast cancer is through blood work and what they call “tumor markers”. If the tumor marker value is below a certain threshold, no active cancer. If it is above that threshold, “probably” active cancer. My tumor markers have been slowly rising above the threshold for a long time and then rose rapidly recently. My scans did not show any progression so the interpretation of the oncologist was that the cancer was stable.

Maybe not.

My hip/pelvis stabilization surgery last month showed significant “space” in my hip where basically the cancer had eaten away at the bone. That sort of thing does not show up well on imaging. So, the surgery was to shore up the bone, which it did.

The surgeon recommended a round of radiation to my hip to kill off any cancer cells that might be hanging out. For weeks now I’ve been preparing for the radiation therapy. This includes a consultation with a radiation oncologist, a preparatory appointment with a PET scan of the hip and then a simulation appointment where they line up everything in the radiation machine.

I’ve completed all of that.

I’ve learned that there is an entire team of medical professionals that work on my case. The radiation oncologist leads the team. Radiation therapists are experts in operating the machines. Radiation oncology nurses help patients manage side effects and also communicate with the family. The medical physicists work with the radiation oncologist and others to make sure each treatment is tailored properly for each patient. The dosimetrists work with the radiation oncologist and medical physicist to develop the precise treatment plan for each patient including calculating the correct dose of radiation.

No wonder it’s so expensive!

At my first preparation appointment I got a few tattoos! Not as exciting as it might seem.

I have 3 small black dots across my hips that will be used to align the radiation machine using lasers. It’s very common to get these small tattoos when getting radiation. The radiation technician joked that he has done more small black dot tattoos than any tattoo artist in Boulder!

The radiation machine looks like a very large Kitchen Aid mixer! The white draped surface to the right is where the patient lays, the table slides back toward the machine and the round element on the underside of the top is where the radiation comes out.

Now that everything is set up, I’ll have 10 doses of radiation over two weeks. I show up at the same time every day. It’s 15 minutes from when I walk in the building to when I leave. Fortunately the cancer center is only a 10 minute drive from my house.

The only hiccup is one that is not shocking. Insurance.

Cigna called to say that my radiation therapy is still not approved. The first request was for a procedure that did not conform to NCCN (National Comprehensive Cancer Network) guidelines. The radiation oncologist submitted a revised request. This one is still pending. It was pending as of 3:30 pm Friday afternoon. I can’t risk going to my 8:45 am appointment on Monday and not having it covered.

So, we wait.

Likely this will just be a short delay. It probably won’t have an overall impact on my situation. It is worrisome though because if I were in a more urgent situation, it would be frustrating and potentially harmful to delay.

In the meantime I’ll be spending the weekend doing some treadmill walking, playing with the cat, and reading some scientific papers on lobular breast cancer. Wishing you a weekend that is exactly how you want to spend your time.

Stay tuned for the next episode of Cancerland!

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Current medication: (2nd line of treatment) Fulvestrant, Ibrance, Zometa, Lupron

Plan A and Plan B, and C, and… – November 30, 2022

If you know me well, you know that I’ve always got a plan and a backup, and a few more backups beyond that. I gotta say, my current life situation was no where in my planning or remotely on my radar.

This being said, we’re not fortune tellers, so we have to give ourselves a little grace if life doesn’t go as we plan, hope, or desire.

Short update: Had my monthly visit to the cancer center. Pretty routine – awesome blood draws by the lab techs, lovely chats with the Nurse Practitioner and front receptionist, and once the IV was in my infusion was smooth. The second stick for the infusion is always tricky. My one good vein is used for the labs and then they pull in the rock star nursing staff to get a vein the second time.

Anyway, this was a routine check to make sure nothing weird is going on and everything is A-ok.

Perk of a mask is that it keeps my face warm as I exit the cancer center tonight in the cold.

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Longer update: You will recall that with Metastatic Breast Cancer (MBC) there is no cure; only treatments. Once you run through all the treatment lines you run out of options and the cancer wins. So, the goal is to stay on any treatment as long as possible.

There is general guidance for treatments that are based on the subtype of MBC you have. The oncologist and patient talk about the wiggle room in that guidance and make a personalized plan.

Right now it appears that my current treatment line is working (my scans in October were stable). However, it’s always good to be looking forward so we can sort through options and come up with a good plan.

To that end, I got a call earlier today from the Clinical Research Coordinator reaching out with information about a potential clinical research trial that is an option when my current treatment line fails. She gave me paperwork today to read through so I can learn more.

(Fun fact for those of you familiar with the IRB process. The pre-screening informed consent form is 15 pages long. The informed consent for the trial is 30 pages long. A tad bit more detail and information than the ones we fill out for education research!)

I’m somewhat familiar with the particular clinical trial and am eager to learn more. It’s important to note that clinical research trials are not a last resort! There are many that provide standard of care while also investigating new treatments.

I love to have information – and yet – I’m not gonna lie, it was a bit of a gut punch to hear her say ‘when the current treatment fails’. No one wants to think about that, but we have to. Well, I have to. I cannot bury my head in the sand and pretend like the current meds will work forever. I firmly believe knowledge is power and I’d rather be in the power seat with cancer.

One more note – my hip has only gotten crankier. I am hoping to have a procedure done next week (December 5), it’s not confirmed (believe it or not). The not-knowing is frustrating and challenging. I’ll share more once I actually have information.

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!

~~~~~~~~

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

Update – October 6, 2022

Hi everyone. I hope you are considering October as Breast ACTION month and are thinking before you “pink” (Pink-tober).

Yesterday I had my monthly check in with the oncology team. It happened to also be the day I got an MRI on my back to investigate some significant pain.

My appointment was “fine”. I started taking Ibrance again last month. However, it’s really compromised my immune system. So much so, that I have to wait another week to restart it. Normally it is 1 week off to let your body recover. They are having me take 2 weeks off. I will go back next week to see if my bloodwork looks better. If it looks better, I restart. If I still have a compromised immune system they will probably lower the dosage.

I had my other treatment (shots) and those seemed to have gone fine.

The MRI was to try to give us some ideas about why I’ve been having incredible (intermittent) back pain. Unfortunately, I don’t have any new answers. This is incredibly frustrating.

So, yesterday was a rough day. None of my medical appointments were great. I also found out that a fellow MBC sister passed away last week. She was diagnosed one month before me. She lived in Colorado Springs and we communicated a lot. Last summer she and her husband were able to meet Glen and I for lunch. We had a lovely visit. She was only a few years older than me, and like I said diagnosed at basically the same time.

Terralissa and Bill Eastburn met Glen and I for lunch, August 2021..

This disease is rubbish.

From the American Society of Clinical Oncology: This year, an estimated 290,560 people (287,850 women and 2,710 men) in the United States will be diagnosed with invasive breast cancer. Breast cancer is the most common cancer in women in the United States, excluding skin cancer. Worldwide, female breast cancer has now surpassed lung cancer as the most commonly diagnosed cancer. An estimated 2,261,419 women were diagnosed with breast cancer (worldwide) in 2020.

44,000 mothers, daughters, wives, friends will die from breast cancer this year. They will die from metastatic breast cancer. That is 120 people EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Every single woman (or man, yes – men get breast cancer) deals with things like I’ve described here. We largely do this quietly all while we are trying to both live a ‘normal’ life and help push the needle on breast cancer research and awareness of MBC.

Everyone is going through something. Give everyone a little grace as you go through your day. And please spread the word that we need more research for MBC, and a cure.

Enough with awareness. We need a cure.

Morning walk at our local (very low) lake.

~~~~~~~

Treatment:

Flaslodex (Fluvestrant)
Ibrance (Palbociclib)
Lupron (Luprolide)
Zometa (Zeldronic Acid)

Next scans, end of October

Update – September 12, 2022

The quick update: My scans from August looked “fine” (the cancer is not growing, no progression) and my tumors marker bloodwork from this month showed improvement. Lower numbers are better and mine dropped so that is also encouraging!

So, we celebrate!

I’ve been fortunate to have the opportunity to travel (work and pleasure) and generally feeling good. Generally.

I had to go to Pasadena for work and stayed for the weekend. Maddy flew out to join me and we spent the Labor Day weekend with my BFF. We played tourist on Saturday in the 100+ degree heat.

It’s amazing to reflect back on time – Laura and I met when I went to grad school in Davis, CA. She needed a roommate and I needed a place to stay. That was 1993 – before social media, before cell phones. We had a phone call – I think – and that was it. We were roommates. Little did I know I was gaining a fourth sister!

It’s because of science that I’m able to spend time with her and her daughter. Science that has let me live a pretty “normal” life since this diagnosis of stage IV (metastatic) breast cancer. If this were 2010 or even 2015, the conversation would be very different. I would not be creating these new memories. I’d be recovering from chemo that probably would not work very long.

I sound like a broken record – live your life. Really. Do those things that have meaning and will matter to you a year or 5 years or 10 years from now. It’s way too easy to get caught up in the day to day and slide through life.

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Longer science-y version

I withdrew from the clinical trial. I decided I was not comfortable with not knowing if I was getting medication or the placebo. To be clear, I was getting the standard of care – meaning that I was getting the medication that is normally prescribed.

On Wednesday of last week (5 days ago) I re-started Ibrance, the CDK 4/6 inhibitor that I was on before. This is paired with a drug that blocks estrogen. That drug for me now is a shot called Fluvestrant (or Flaslodex). The shots don’t bother me so much when I get them. I haven’t had much in the way of side effects – or so I thought. I’m thinking this shot is messing with my back.

The past few months I’ve had sporadic pain in my lower back. So much so that it’s hard to move around, even walk. It’s hard to pinpoint what is happening, but I’m now thinking there might be a correlation and this is a side effect. (I actually had an episode this past weekend that lasted 24 hours during which I could barely stand up and walk.)

Fluvestrant is a “Selective Estrogen Receptor Degrader” (a SERD). This means that it messes with the estrogen receptor on cells. You can think of the receptor as the thing the estrogen attaches to. It’s kind of like a docking station. This medicine messes up the docking station so when the estrogen tries to attach to a cell it can’t. My cancer feeds off estrogen – if it can’t connect to the estrogen, it can’t proliferate and grow.

Previously I was on a different drug that prevented the creation of estrogen. The thought is that the cancer figured out what was going on and found a way to work around that to grow. So, I had to switch treatments.

Hopefully this SERD will work and for a long time!

I also continue to get an infusion of a bone strengthener every three months (Zometa). I had my infusion on Wednesday also. My veins tend to roll and are not easy to get an IV into. I thought a new nurse hit the jackpot until the saline started going into my arm. Nothing major, but it was uncomfortable and they had to try a different location for the IV. Certainly not the end of the world but one of those things you deal with living in Cancerland.

Second IV did the trick; red area was the miss

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Current meds: Ibrance (125 mg), Fluvestrant, Zometa, Lupron

Science – August 15, 2022

Summer is slipping away, I noticed the air felt different yesterday afternoon during a walk. I’m sitting outside as I write this listening to the soft sound of rain. The monsoon kicked in and we’ve had a lot of wet afternoons and evenings.

Update short version:

I had medical appointments last week.

My CT scan (which is imaging of my chest, abdomen, pelvis) was “stable”. Excellent news! We DO NOT want the cancer to migrate to the soft tissue organs. It’s much more difficult to manage.

My tumor marker blood work rose again (not great, we want lower, not higher). This alone is not evidence of how things are going.

My oncologist is good with the CT scans so we continue onward. The new medication may be working. (I’m nervous and concerned because I have lobular breast cancer which can migrate to the GI track and other places and it does NOT show up on imaging.)

So, onward! More medication, more walking daily, more trying to be intentional. I hope you all are living each day to it’s fullest. You are not guaranteed tomorrow.

If you are on Instagram my MBC account is @nottodaymbc

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Longer version. I’m in a clinical trial where I don’t know if I’m getting the extra medication being tested or a placebo. In researching it more, I’m thinking I just want the actual meds. 🙂 They are FDA approved for this use, the trial is to see how effective they area.

I’m a HUGE advocate and proponent for science. You all know that.

This clinical research trial (CRT) is basically taking the “regular” medicine alone vs. taking the “regular” medicine with an “extra” medicine. The phase II trial showed that the “extra” medicine extended the time before a breast cancer patient had progression. (Progression is when the cancer finds a way to grow.) The trial I’m currently enrolled in is to determine how much more time a patient gets before progression.

Like I said, I’m all about science.

But this is personal. This is literally a matter of life and death.

I might be getting the “extra” medicine and then that would be great. I might be getting the placebo and missing out on the benefit of the other meds.

I don’t think I’m willing to risk not getting the “extra” medicine.

If I withdraw from the trial will it set back science? Yes, maybe a little.

Will it give me piece of mind to know I’m getting the actual meds and not the placebo? Yes, for sure.

What if I’m already getting the “extra” meds? I don’t know. Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. There is a 50/50 chance.

I’ve been thinking about all of this a lot; especially since my cancer tumor marker bloodwork is not great. Why are those numbers rising? Is it because they are unreliable or is it because this lobular breast cancer (that doesn’t show up on imaging) is growing in some other area?

So. Much. Uncertainty.

I really thought that science was more concrete than this. This is more like art mixed with science with a dash of uncertainty sprinkled in.

So what to do?

Stay positive – do whatever I can to keep a positive mindset and know that I’m doing all I can to be as healthy as possible.
Be informed – try to read as many scientific articles about this trial and the medication as possible

Meanwhile, life.

Cara was here visiting and we went to Colorado Springs for ziplining and whitewater rafting.

Evelyn moves in to the dorms today at the University of Colorado.

Maddy starts her sophomore year of high school on Thursday.

Glen and I celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary last week.

I’m not letting life pass me by and you should not either. Seize the day.

Rafting on the Arkansas River. I’m in the bright pink shirt. Cara is middle row closest to camera and Maddy is far side of the boat, second back.

Hiking with Glen, late July. We are so fortunate to live somewhere with beautiful vistas!

Maddy spent 5 days in Wisconsin and then Cara 5 days here. We went to Meow Wolf in Denver and then to dinner as a last family adventure before school starts.

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Current treatment:

Fluvestrant (Flaslodex) monthly (2 shots) – Selective Estrogen Receptor Degrader (shuts down estrogen)

Lupron monthly (1 shot) – puts me in menopause

Zometa, quarterly (infusion) – bone strengthener

Maybe Verzenio (CDK 4/6 inhibitor) or maybe placebo (clinical research trial: postMONARCH)

Keep on Swimming – update, June 7, 2022

It was a good run. I’ve been on the same (first) line of treatment for nearly 3 years (July 2019). Alas, the oncologist thinks that the medication is failing me and that we should move to the next line of treatment.

It’s important to note that the medication is failing ME and not the other way around. I’ve done nothing to cause this.

I had a Zoom call with my oncologist this morning because I’m still under the weather from COVID. He went over my bone scan and CT scan results.

Short version – The CT scan showed some mild bone disease worsening and new small fractures on the C7 and T3 of my spine. Given that we’ve had the “should we change treatment?” conversation for ~6 months, he thinks it’s time.

Previous areas of my spine impacted include C7, T9, T10, L4 and S1. Latest scans show more fracture on C7 and also T3.

So, disappointing but not surprising or unexpected. The doctor was very upfront with me from the beginning – we have medication to treat Metastatic Breast Cancer (MBC) but no cure. Eventually all the medication will fail. It’s not a matter of ‘if’, rather ‘when’.

We are finalizing my next line of treatment. The standard of care is a drug called Flaslodex (aka Fulvestrant). I’ll share more about it later.

I have 2 options: (1) Flaslodex alone or (2) randomized clinical trial with Flaslodex and Verzineo (Abemaciclib, another CDK 4/6 similar to Ibrance). I opted for the trial.

A research nurse will call me about the trial and we will sort out details.

Sigh. Knew it was coming. Still a bit of a gut punch. This is the long game though…

I asked about progression free survival (PFS) on Flaslodex. He said his general experience is 1-3 years. He said I did better than average on Ibrance and so that could be an indicator of how well I respond to treatments. Overall, of course, hard to say.

I may have to go a bit without treatment so it flushes out of my system before starting the new one, especially for a trial so that they can be sure the effects are from the new medications.

As of today, still taking first line treatments (even though they are failing me): Ibrance, Anastrazole, Lupron, Zometa