A Little Cancer

When I was diagnosed, Kris, my colleague and now dear friend took me by the hand and gently guided an absolutely terrified me, through this cancer journey.  A pancreatic cancer survivor herself, this woman, this God-given angel of mine, who went through her own hell on the way to full recovery, has been amazing.  Her selflessness, her gentle advice and love has helped me through this difficult time by preparing me for what was to come.  It's meant everything.  Now, perhaps I can do the same for someone else.

This post is for anyone who may be experiencing this disease, or for anyone like my inquisitive and younger son, Michael, who may be interested in knowing the more technical stuff associated with this illness.  From the beginning of my treatment, which is done on two consecutive Mondays with one week off, the two chemo drugs used to fight this cancer and shrink my tumor to hell and back are Docetaxel, brand name Taxotere, and Gemcitabine, brand name Gemzar.  Both drugs are injected into my veins via I.V.  and the side effects may range from decrease in red and white bloods cells, which is closely monitored with blood drawings, infections, fluid retention, hair loss, itching, extreme exhaustion, vomiting, blood clots and discolored toes and/or finger nails which some folks ultimately lose all together when they fall off – not your fingers and toes, just the nails fall off.  Duh. By the looks of my nails, I may be one of the aforementioned ‘folks’.  To curtail some of the more nastier side affects, prior to being injected with these drugs I’m given a cocktail of Lorazepam, Benadryl, a steroid and something else I can’t recall, that will have me literally sawing logs within about 20 minutes of taking the delicious cocktail of pills. Yum.  It’s nice because I usually sleep straight through the treatment, which is good because otherwise I would be obsessively focused on the toxic chemicals hanging in bags from the I.V. and drip, drip, dripping into my body. 

One rather nasty issue I had from the tumor in my pancreas was gas.  This was due from a lack of a particular enzyme in my body with the job of breaking down waste. In the beginning of my diagnosis, everything I put into my stomach quickly exited after turning my body into something disgustingly toxic.   Of course, gaseous expulsions from our body are typically viewed as natural occurrences; however for me it was more supernatural.  I couldn’t stand myself.  Seriously, our government could have used me in North Korea as a threat of bio-chemical warfare in order to get them to behave.  My digestive issues were quickly resolved with a prescription for Creon, which imitates the enzyme normally produced by our bodies. One pill is taken before and after meals.  I’m okay now.  Well, as long as I take my pills. No worries.

I think I am one of the fortunate ones, because although I’ve lost my hair and my nails are close to exiting as well, other than the first month of treatment, I have not had the metallic taste in my mouth which plagued me in the beginning, nor have I had to deal with nausea.  From time to time, I feel a bone deep exhaustion, but have learned to listen to my body and drop on the nearest bed or couch when necessary.  Also, lately my eyes spasm and run like a waterfall.  Not sure what that is all about but most likely a result of the chemo.  Honestly though, I’ve had more good days than bad.  My red and white blood cell counts are good and as of this past Monday I have been continued on the full dose of chemo meds.  Per my doctor, the tumor is stable and I'm still on track for surgery.   I cannot complain (although I still do, it’s just me being bitchy). 

I try to get to the gym at least 4 – 5 days a week, and this week I just bumped my work out from 40 minutes to 60 minutes and have been able to maintain my energy level throughout.  We’ll see how that continues as I get closer to the end of the week.  Regardless, I will continue to do what I need to do to make my body stronger.  My surgery is in July, I am half way there, and I plan on getting through this phase of my life.

My heart goes out to anyone experiencing cancer, or any serious illness and treatment. It is difficult, but we can do this. And the only thing I can think of that would be harder for me is watching someone I care about and love go through it – which is an unbearable thought. 

“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”
― Albert Camus