Update 21 October 2020 - Fall edition

After the joys of summer at the lake, life has returned to normal back in Prince Albert. Or as normal as life with Stage IV cancer gets.

I had a CT scan mid-August to check on how the chemotherapy is working. While waiting for my appointment with the oncologist, I decided to check out my eHealth records that I had recently signed up for. The CT report was already posted. It was very detailed with a lot of medical terms but when I read it, I thought it said there was progression in the liver. Not big tumours but a few of them.

So, the next day the oncologist called, a week before my appointment - never a good sign. He confirmed that the chemo had quit working and that we would have to look at other options.

Here we are again. 

I had very mixed emotions about the news as it had worked for over a year though this had been at a cost, including my strength and energy levels. I lost my appetite and had reflux so wasn’t eating enough (not helped by the stresses of the lockdown). Over the year I lost 30 pounds which is not good when you have cancer. 

It’s also frightening to think of the cancer mutating so that the drugs are no longer effective. It also makes me wonder once again if it’s the beginning of the end. It’s hard to avoid going down that rabbit hole. 
I’ve switched to an oral chemo drug which I take twice a day (two weeks on, one week off). The pills are big and because I would have trouble swallowing them (constricted esophagus) I first tried them dissolved in water which was disgusting. Then I cut them in half which was better but still tasted terrible. Now I have smaller pills but more of them - 10 in the morning and 10 in the evening. 

The side effects so far have been not too bad, mainly continued neuropathy in my hands and feet, dry and cracked fingers, and fatigue. Fingers crossed that the side effects do not become more severe. (As an aside, the neuropathy in the fingers is tingling and a loss of sensation and, in the feet, it is as if my sock has slipped down and the extra material is under the ball of my feet).

In our consultation, the oncologist essentially asked me if this was where I wanted to end treatment or did I want to try something else. One the one hand, I think it is a good question to ask a patient who may be depleted by the treatments. On the other hand, it does remind me of his initial comments that the median survival rate is something like 18-36 months. Something I very much have in mind as I near my 3 year diagnosis anniversary (cancerversary, in MBC lingo).  I know that in the concrete, statistics do not mean anything. At this stage, I feel healthy, am tolerating the medication well and try to remain optimistic about the future. 

One very positive thing is that I don’t have to do IV chemo or drive to Saskatoon for the weekly treatments. I went to Saskatoon the other week just because I could! There was no medical appointment involved, either for me or my sister.

With fall here and the cold weather (and second wave) looming, I try to focus on keeping busy, being productive. I am going through my clothes and donating lots of things that I no longer need or use. I need to go through my work and fancier clothes as I don’t fit them anymore, no longer work or am unlikely to get invited to a fancy reception or dinner. With a little bit of regret, I have to close that chapter of my life.

I’ve gone through many of my papers and recycled or shredded or burned the rest. The last big batch included my medical papers which was a history of wrong diagnoses over several years. It felt good to get rid of the papers, most of which were just paper copies of insurance claims.

I am trying to get more exercise. Walking is easier now that I am no longer on the other chemo. I have so much more energy that I did this summer. Not as much as Ginger who would prefer to play or walk all the time. Luckily for me, she like to nap as much as I do.

As part of my exercise regime, I am taking a restorative yoga class that should help with my flexibility. It is a semi-private class that I take with a friend in her house. I am really lucky because both the teacher and my classmate are very understanding of my limitations. I am thankful to be practicing yoga once again although it does remind me that my body is not is not what it was, one of the many things I have lost to cancer.  

So, I will end this update with more focus on those things for which I am grateful: family and friends for their continued love and support, yourself included; the Ginger care team who take this bundle of energy out for long walks; a very professional and caring medical team that supports me; and medicare and health insurance. I am also grateful that the weather has been mild (relatively) and that the sun comes out most days. And for Halloween candy.

“The days are getting shorter and colder, but I ask you to remember: even as the winter comes in, there is hope and there is light." 
Perseverance.
Seamus Heaney (thanks to Patricia McCullagh for posting).

Deborah

Ginger on the boat with ill-fitting jacket

Vandy

At a local gallery

From a NYC fortune cookie circa 2003.

Always a good reminder that all is not bad.

Brian & Tracey

Purple Prairie Clover

Unusual summer sundog

Yes, we are odd.

Christopher Lake, 5 am

With Sandra & two of her girls

Candle Lake is just as beautiful

Princess Ginger getting groomed

Ginger letting Echo share in the cuddles

Beauty of fall

State of hair, as of today