Today I'm going up north. I have to go to Hackensack University medical center for a whole day of pre-transplant tests. All my blood test came back with the right numbers, so we're ready for the next step. The stem cell transplant isn't any more difficult than donating platelets. It's not like having to do a bone marrow transplant, and they're using my own stem cells.
I'm actually seeing the light at the end of the tunnel here. I've heard a lot of good things from my doctors. While the chemo was rough, It was hardly unbearable. I had a few days of being sick here or there, but the care has been outstanding. I'm actually getting a little bit excited about this. I've encountered some side effects; the coolest-sounding one is peripheral neuropathy, which is just some odd pain in my legs and feet. It's like what I'd describe as bee stings. Your legs get twitchy and it's not awesome, but it's not anything too terrible. And I've had to struggle a little to keep my weight up, but of course you fix that by eating. A lot. Being that I love food, a lot, I could think of a lot worse.
I'm determined to kick this cancer, and I've had a lot of help in the fight. Things are looking so good.
Let the fun begin.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
One Giant Leap...
...ok not that giant a leap, but good news came today.
My blood numbers weren't perfect, but they are within the right parameters. Soooo, that means I can continue to the next phase of the chemotherapy treatments, which will begin prepping my body for the first of two transplants. This one is my own stem cells ( autologous ).
I'll go through about a month of treatments. I'll be receiving Cytoxan, Dexamsthasone, Etoposide, Neupogen and Levaquin. I have no idea what the drugs will do, except make me better, so it's all good
Once that's all done, I'll go into the hospital to begin the stem cell harvest. That can be a 2 to 5 day process. Once that is done I will enter the final phase of chemotherapy treatments. That's when they'll use Melphalan on me. In addition to making me better, it'll make me baldy, too.
The final step of this phase will be the transplant of the stem cells that were harvested from me. The harvest and transplant are done through a catheter, so the process isn't much different than someone who is donating platelets.
I'm so excited to be advancing to the next step. There is a definite finish line in sight. I have to keep in mind that I'm still up against a cancer without a cure, but at the same time, I have to remember that every cure starts with one patient.
The fight goes on, and I'm thrilled for the chance to slug it out.
My blood numbers weren't perfect, but they are within the right parameters. Soooo, that means I can continue to the next phase of the chemotherapy treatments, which will begin prepping my body for the first of two transplants. This one is my own stem cells ( autologous ).
I'll go through about a month of treatments. I'll be receiving Cytoxan, Dexamsthasone, Etoposide, Neupogen and Levaquin. I have no idea what the drugs will do, except make me better, so it's all good
Once that's all done, I'll go into the hospital to begin the stem cell harvest. That can be a 2 to 5 day process. Once that is done I will enter the final phase of chemotherapy treatments. That's when they'll use Melphalan on me. In addition to making me better, it'll make me baldy, too.
The final step of this phase will be the transplant of the stem cells that were harvested from me. The harvest and transplant are done through a catheter, so the process isn't much different than someone who is donating platelets.
I'm so excited to be advancing to the next step. There is a definite finish line in sight. I have to keep in mind that I'm still up against a cancer without a cure, but at the same time, I have to remember that every cure starts with one patient.
The fight goes on, and I'm thrilled for the chance to slug it out.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Odd occurrence
Tonight I can't sleep. I'm actually scared for the first time since I was diagnosed. My life span is shortening significantly because of a number of factors. But what's scaring me is the fact that I might not have enough time to get some things done.
The pain is quite bearable and manageable for me. I see so many people who are so worse off than I am. My bones in the legs are giving me trouble, swelling, some pain but mostly just unsteady. I've been Informed that I have chromosome 17 delete and this going to complicate things a little. I'll need two transplants now instead of one. My doctors, at my request, are being very forthcoming and honest with me. 62 months is looking more and more appropriate as my story's title, haha.
I just have so much to do. I want to have some sort of vacation with my kids, just us. I want to see my friend Cassie and her baby. I want to hang out in my friend Emily for a few days In Indiana. I also want to spend time with my Janice out in Indiana as well. I owe Emily and Cassie some meals and some foot massages lol. I always pay my bets off!
But honestly, tonight I'm just wimpy and scared.
The pain is quite bearable and manageable for me. I see so many people who are so worse off than I am. My bones in the legs are giving me trouble, swelling, some pain but mostly just unsteady. I've been Informed that I have chromosome 17 delete and this going to complicate things a little. I'll need two transplants now instead of one. My doctors, at my request, are being very forthcoming and honest with me. 62 months is looking more and more appropriate as my story's title, haha.
I just have so much to do. I want to have some sort of vacation with my kids, just us. I want to see my friend Cassie and her baby. I want to hang out in my friend Emily for a few days In Indiana. I also want to spend time with my Janice out in Indiana as well. I owe Emily and Cassie some meals and some foot massages lol. I always pay my bets off!
But honestly, tonight I'm just wimpy and scared.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Shining Star
Today I'm going to Centra State Hospital in Freehold, NJ. I'm going to consult with a Radiological Oncologist. The cancer has been kicking the hell out of my legs and my doctor thinks that radiation can help alleviate some of the problems and let me stop walking like the Mummy.
It should be all good. We'll get the Christmas tree set up and use me as the tree-topper. I figure I'll glow brightly for a while and I'll look good up there.
I'm determined to make it a good holiday. Medical expenses will keep me from having a banner year for my kids as far as gifts, but we'll have a great Christmas anyway, just by being together.
And eating. I love to eat.
I really hope the radiation will help. Let's keep our fingers crossed, ok?
It should be all good. We'll get the Christmas tree set up and use me as the tree-topper. I figure I'll glow brightly for a while and I'll look good up there.
I'm determined to make it a good holiday. Medical expenses will keep me from having a banner year for my kids as far as gifts, but we'll have a great Christmas anyway, just by being together.
And eating. I love to eat.
I really hope the radiation will help. Let's keep our fingers crossed, ok?
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Boring!
I sat and looked at my blog tonight and I realized what a boring writer I am. I guess I am trying too hard to write really profound things.
I guess the biggest problem I have is that there really isn't anything profound going on in my life. I'm getting through the treatments, and I am honestly not feeling too badly these days.
I have an appointment with a radiologist on Friday. My leg bones are really mashed up and giving me a lot of trouble. I don't know if you call them lesions or tumors, but whatever they are they are very active. The doctor seems to think that radiation will help alleviate some of the discomfort, so I'm all for that.
Life has been pretty good for me these days and when I see patients with other kinds of cancer, I realize that I am not too bad off.
My appetite has been out of control, which is a good thing. I've been struggling to maintain weight. I guess I'll just have to keep eating!
I am going to try and liven things up in here from now on. Stay tuned!
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
An Update
There is a lot of technical stuff going on, things that I don't quite understand myself. That's why doctors go to medical school and learn about all this. I don't have to know what every detail means, I just leave it to the docs to fix it.
I met with the transplant team in Hackensack University. During this meeting, I learned that I have something called "chromosome 17 deletion." I don't know the physiology of this detail, I just know that it's going to complicate things a whole lot. Now, instead of just having a transplant of my own stem cells (not bone marrow), I will have my own stem cells transplanted (autologus transplant) and that will be followed by a stem cell transplant from a donor. This will most likely be one of my siblings.
There will be a lot of chemotherapy. There will be a long, long period of recovery (6 to 9 months). There are no guarantees of outcome, unfortunately. What we're striving to avoid is something called "refractory myeloma", which basically means that if there is a relapse, the cancer comes back in a form that is more difficult to treat each time it does relapse.
Sounds gloomy, right? The way I see it, this is just a different scenario. I have to fight the same fight, with a few extra tricks to pull out of the hat. It's not going to be easy at all, but who ever really plans on "easy"? I have the challenges in front of me, and I know what I have to do. 2013 sure will be an eventful, busy year.
There is already a drug in trial that's intended to combat the refractory myeloma, should the need arise. If I do come up against that, the timeline will be just right. The drug should be fully approved and ready to go. The research has produced more in the last five years than it had it the previous twenty-five. So every year forward will bring us closer to a cure, and in the meantime produce a lot of results to keep us all going.
I'm ready for this. I'll finish the current round of chemo by the end of December. I'll then be evaluated, and if it's all good, we'll start the next course of treatment. That's one solid month of intensive chemotherapy to prep my body for the final round of chemo, which is short-term, powerful stuff.
I'll have a nice, shiny head for the nice, shiny new year. And by year's end, I'll have a nice shiny immune system, along with a very welcome remission. We'll worry about nothing. Worrying is useless, and I've learned that lesson very well.
There are a lot of lunch dates, dinner dates, etc, on hold, and I fully intend to eat each and every one of them with you. I have places I'm going to visit, so keep the bed made and ready. My kids and I love Woodloch Pines, so that's in the cards too. And I think I might even grow a mullet.
I have the best medical team I could hope for. An oncologist without peer, a nursing staff that's the most incredible group of professionals I've ever met. And while I'm free to eat and drink anything I want, I also have the guidance of a doctor who specializes in nutrition. They all do their jobs flawlessly, but with a ton of patience, compassion and concern.
But they say that attitude is 90% of the game. And that's where you all come in. My family has been a rock. My friends, you have all carried me when things got rough. Those little comments that you post mean a whole lot. Don't ever think otherwise. I can't, and don't want to, do this without you.
I'm happy, and at the moment, feeling quite well. My numbers are all good. My appetite is ok, and they have medicines that help with the digestive issues. I'm working and happy to be there. Really. It beats the hell out of staying home all the time. I don't need anything other than my family and friends.
I'm going to post a lot more stuff, so be patient. I want to have a record of the day to day, minute to minute things that will be going on. I want to show people that cancer doesn't have to win. I want to show people that life can and does go on. Every time cancer hits me, I'm going to hit back.
Thank you all so much for the support you've been giving me. It means the world to me. Love to you all.
I met with the transplant team in Hackensack University. During this meeting, I learned that I have something called "chromosome 17 deletion." I don't know the physiology of this detail, I just know that it's going to complicate things a whole lot. Now, instead of just having a transplant of my own stem cells (not bone marrow), I will have my own stem cells transplanted (autologus transplant) and that will be followed by a stem cell transplant from a donor. This will most likely be one of my siblings.
There will be a lot of chemotherapy. There will be a long, long period of recovery (6 to 9 months). There are no guarantees of outcome, unfortunately. What we're striving to avoid is something called "refractory myeloma", which basically means that if there is a relapse, the cancer comes back in a form that is more difficult to treat each time it does relapse.
Sounds gloomy, right? The way I see it, this is just a different scenario. I have to fight the same fight, with a few extra tricks to pull out of the hat. It's not going to be easy at all, but who ever really plans on "easy"? I have the challenges in front of me, and I know what I have to do. 2013 sure will be an eventful, busy year.
There is already a drug in trial that's intended to combat the refractory myeloma, should the need arise. If I do come up against that, the timeline will be just right. The drug should be fully approved and ready to go. The research has produced more in the last five years than it had it the previous twenty-five. So every year forward will bring us closer to a cure, and in the meantime produce a lot of results to keep us all going.
I'm ready for this. I'll finish the current round of chemo by the end of December. I'll then be evaluated, and if it's all good, we'll start the next course of treatment. That's one solid month of intensive chemotherapy to prep my body for the final round of chemo, which is short-term, powerful stuff.
I'll have a nice, shiny head for the nice, shiny new year. And by year's end, I'll have a nice shiny immune system, along with a very welcome remission. We'll worry about nothing. Worrying is useless, and I've learned that lesson very well.
There are a lot of lunch dates, dinner dates, etc, on hold, and I fully intend to eat each and every one of them with you. I have places I'm going to visit, so keep the bed made and ready. My kids and I love Woodloch Pines, so that's in the cards too. And I think I might even grow a mullet.
I have the best medical team I could hope for. An oncologist without peer, a nursing staff that's the most incredible group of professionals I've ever met. And while I'm free to eat and drink anything I want, I also have the guidance of a doctor who specializes in nutrition. They all do their jobs flawlessly, but with a ton of patience, compassion and concern.
But they say that attitude is 90% of the game. And that's where you all come in. My family has been a rock. My friends, you have all carried me when things got rough. Those little comments that you post mean a whole lot. Don't ever think otherwise. I can't, and don't want to, do this without you.
I'm happy, and at the moment, feeling quite well. My numbers are all good. My appetite is ok, and they have medicines that help with the digestive issues. I'm working and happy to be there. Really. It beats the hell out of staying home all the time. I don't need anything other than my family and friends.
I'm going to post a lot more stuff, so be patient. I want to have a record of the day to day, minute to minute things that will be going on. I want to show people that cancer doesn't have to win. I want to show people that life can and does go on. Every time cancer hits me, I'm going to hit back.
Thank you all so much for the support you've been giving me. It means the world to me. Love to you all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)