Round 2: The Rollercoaster

Let me start with some great news: I do not have Stage 4 cancer. OK, that may seem a little shocking to say because I have not really talked about the fact that the possibility of this dire diagnosis has been lingering out there for about a month.  I mentioned in an earlier blog that I had undergone scans to make sure that the cancer had not metastasized outside of my breast.  Everything came out clean except that the CT scan showed a growth in my liver. The radiologist felt like it was likely benign but could not rule out cancer. My doctors ordered an MRI just in case so we could be 100% certain that the cancer had not metastasized in my liver.  With the COVID-19 craziness, it took forever to get the MRI scheduled so this worry has been lodged in the back of my brain for a few weeks.  My doctors and I felt the likelihood of the growth being malignant was low, but, you know, given my luck over the last few months, I still worried . . . a lot.  

I went in for my MRI on Monday.  It was my first MRI.  I hope it was my last as it was not the most fun experience.  I am claustrophobic, so I ended up taking an Ativan to keep myself from freaking out while in that narrow tube.  It worked.  I was in there for about 45 minutes and did not freak out even though it felt like being in a coffin.  It is funny when you are going through these scans. You wonder if the tech looking at these pictures are seeing anything, so you scrutinize their faces to see if they give anything away.  My tech should be a professional poker player.  I got nothing.  That night, lying in bed, I prayed to God that the results would come back clean.  It was torture to think about the possibility that I could go from thinking I had an early stage of cancer to the scary diagnosis of Stage 4.  I probably checked MyChart at least 10 times the next day and later in the afternoon, my doctor emailed with the EXCELLENT news that the liver growth is benign.  THANK THE GOOD LORD. 

Other good news is that Round 2 went better than Round 1 with respect to physical side effects.  I do not know why, but I suspect that since I knew what to expect, I could prepare myself for the side effects more effectively. Do not get me wrong, I still had side effects.  It seems like after each round, I walk around for about a week feeling like I am being poisoned.  It is a strange feeling.  I swear I can feel the toxic chemicals in my body. I have a hard time sleeping more than a couple of hours at a time. My sense of smell is off.  I get very tired later in the day.  I have a hard time concentrating on anything, even dumb TV shows.  My GI tract is unhappy, but not to the degree it was in the first round. I can feel the burning in my esophagus and the acid reflux as the fast-growing cells are dying. The tops of my hands develop a terrible angry red and itchy rash that just does not seem to fully go away. And, of course, my hair is now gone.  I am officially BALD. Finally, just for kicks, my body developed a new side effect on this round: food lost its taste.  It was weird.  I would prepare something to eat and my brain would tell me what it was supposed to taste like, but then I would eat it and it tasted like a pale version of whatever it was.  It was like eating in black and white when I was used to eating in color.  Fortunately, that side effect disappeared after about 10 days. I am now back to eating – and tasting — normal food. 

With all these yucky side effects, I think that losing my hair has been the hardest for me. Believe me, I sincerely tried to be a good sport about losing my hair. I tried to put on a brave face and laugh off the massive shedding and the final need to just shave off the rest.  On the day of my second chemo treatment, we borrowed a hair shaving kit from a friend and shaved my head in the backyard. It was a family event.  It was kind of funny to cut my hair in various ‘dos, including a mohawk. I laughed at myself and put on a brave face. But, now, every time I pass a mirror or see myself in a Zoom call, I get sad.  I just DO NOT look like me.  My baldness is a constant reminder that my old “cancer-free” life is gone (for now).  You know, the one in which I got up each day and felt good.  The one in which I could be with my friends.  The one in which I could feel like I could plan for and think about my future without so much uncertainty. 

So, I guess I need to admit that despite this blog being about making lemonade out of lemons, sometimes it is pretty fucking hard to make that lemonade.  This last round has been kinder to me on the physical side effects, but I think I have struggled more with the emotional, mental side effects.  Maybe this damn pandemic and everyone being on lock down has made it harder.  Or, maybe the enormity of what I am dealing with is finally hitting me fully – right smack upside my bald head. 

For example, each day I get on Facebook to check out how folks are doing.  Normally, I enjoy seeing everyone’s posts.  It is nice to catch up and see what people are up to.  A lot of folks have been creative and funny during the lockdown.  But, when I get on Facebook, the first thing that pops up is a reminder of something that happened in the past – a post from me one year, two year, or five years ago.  I see some wonderful memory with a picture of happy times – sometimes me (with hair) smiling and being happy.  Normally, I like looking that these reminders, but in these last two weeks, these reminders make me sad right down to my bones.  It is like I am looking at someone else.  Someone who had their act together and was happy and healthy.   Then, I see folks posts about how they are “social distancing” with their friends and enjoying happy hours and long hikes.  I get sad again.  I have not been able to do any of these things.  I know I am being jealous and petty and whiny, but I miss that stuff.  I miss having friends over, cooking for them, and laughing over a bottle (or two) of wine.  I think about how different our quarantining would be if I were not sick. 

I think this pity party has been part of the reason it has taken me so long to write another blog.  I have just been kind of stewing about all of this and how I am feeling.  I debated about how much I wanted to share about how down I have been.  You know, this is supposed to be a blog about making lemonade, not about how sour those lemons taste.  But then I thought to myself that I should let people know that going through the treatment and march to wellness is not always so sunny.  I am not always seeing the silver lining.  That this is hard; it sucks; and sometimes I cry (well, maybe over the last couple weeks, I have teared up more often than usual). 

I am happy to say that as I write this today, I am having one of my better days.  I am more than 14 days past my chemo round so my white blood cell count is probably back up.  I am feeling good.  So, I put on my mask and joined some friends for an appropriately distanced walk this morning.  It was lovely and so nice to see friends in person (and not over Zoom).  I dabbled in my garden and watered my plants while listening to a playlist a friend put together.  I did 40 minutes on the Peloton, doing a 30-minute hard ride with my man, Alex.  All of this before 9:30 AM.  I feel a little like my old self again.  I may not look like my old self on the outside, but I am feeling more like me on the inside.  So, hey, things are looking better. 

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I am looking forward to the weekend.  This is the weekend when I will be feeling my best before I head into my third round of chemo on Wednesday (May 13) – the halfway point in my chemo treatment!!  I am probably going to do some cleaning and baking on Saturday and then let myself be pampered for Mother’s Day on Sunday. 

I should note that not all has been gloomy during my two-week pity party.  Once I got my appetite and energy back, I got inspired to get back into the kitchen.  I have been avoiding the kitchen for the last month or so.  So, I think my return made my family happy.  Last weekend, I made chocolate chip cookies, vanilla ice cream (the good, custard-based stuff), and – drumroll, please – salted caramel macarons.  I think you might notice that I have bailed on my self-imposed “no sugar” edict.  I am not going to eat tons of sugar, but I decided that if I am trying to eat healthy, including giving up alcohol and caffeine, I need to at least eat a cookie when I feel like it.  Cancer is not going to rob me of all my guilty pleasures. 

Getting back to the macarons. I have had a love-hate relationship with these finicky morsels of deliciousness for about three years.  I love them.  Meaning, I love to eat them.  I have, up until now, hated trying to make them.  They make me crazy.  This might come as a shock to you, but I am not the most patient person.  Making macarons is very trying for me.  You must be so careful in your measuring, whipping, piping, and baking.  One mistake and . . . bam . . . those little beasts will crack, fall, and generally just FAIL. Last weekend, I decided that since I am stuck in my house for the foreseeable future, I might as well bake my way out of my misery.  Thus, I have resolved to master the macaron.  Each weekend that I feel good, I will take on a new macaron recipe.  I have even ordered freeze dried strawberry and raspberry powder for my future strawberry and raspberry macarons.  I have also been researching sourdough starters.  I think I might also try out making bread.  I have done some bread baking, but I also love to eat bread (which is why I will never have washboard abs).  I love sourdough and I would love to churn out some delicious loaves of bread.  Needless to say, I am determined to make sure something good is going to come out of my confinement.

I think I realized this chemo round that making lemonade is a process and might take some time before you get to the lemonade part.  Lemons are sour and if you just focus on that sour, it is going to be unpleasant.  But, if you add some sugar – in this case both figuratively and literally — you get some tasty lemonade.  It took me awhile this time around to find the sugar and mix it in, but I think that my latest batch of lemonade is pretty darn good.