BC Becky

Never Thought I'd Want to be a Breast Cancer Survivor

Category: active treatment

  • One more chemo day …

    So I’ve survived one more chemo day … I type this as the monitor beeps saying I’m done … with any luck this will be my last …

    Had some fun taking pictures by my tree before the infusion.

    Photo & Video Sharing by SmugMug

    I won’t know until next Monday (the 13 – which also happens to be Canadian Thanksgiving) – what is happening with my chemo. I have an MRI on Thursday night and various doctors appointments on Monday. If the tumors are gone (or small enough), then we’ll stop chemo and get ready for surgery. If the tumors are still present on the MRI – or haven’t shrunk as much as we had hoped – then I’ll continue with chemo for another six weeks (although I may see if I can take a week off in order to give my blood counts a fighting chance of rebounding). My  red blood counts (RGB/hematocrit) are higher than they were last week (still low, but better). My white counts are still trending downwards.

    So another week of appointments. I’m going to try to take it easy this week – listening to my body – and doing whatever I feel like doing. Pretty much like I have been doing since starting chemo with a little more emphasis on resting.

    One side effect that I’m now having is pain under my nails on my thumbs and first two fingers. It isn’t painful when I do nothing, but when I use my fingers it hurts (even when typing I’m aware of the pain). The finger tips also are sensitive to the heat – in particular the heat of the gas burners on the stove. So I’m going to try to shift to meals made in the oven. If anyone has any recommendations for favorite casseroles, please post recipes or links in the comments. Thanks.

     

  • Permission …

    On Friday, I gave myself permission to stop working while I’m on Taxol. I have been trying to sneak in small amounts of contract work, but I just haven’t been able to get anything done. I’ve had the same task on my to do list week after week. It isn’t a big task, nor a lot of work, but it requires some concentration – and I just don’t have that right now. So, on Friday, I gave myself permission to let it go.

    I have to say, it is a lot easier to put it on hold with the thought that I’ll have one or two more treatments – a lot easier than thinking 6 or 7 more treatments.

    I got word from my oncologist – the current plan is that I do chemo on Monday (dependent on my blood counts). I have an MRI booked for Thursday evening. I see my oncologist again on Monday morning (Oct 13 – Canadian Thanksgiving). I also see both my surgeons that day. Depending on what the MRI says, we will either continue with chemo or move on to surgery. I’m leaning towards surgery right night, largely because the chemo is taking away all my energy. I’m tired of it all – ready to move on to the next step.

    So, I’ve given myself permission to not work while on Taxol. I need to let that pressure go. I’ve also decided that I shall not be driving while on Taxol. Two weeks ago I was good on Tuesday and part of Wednesday. This week, I wasn’t good Tuesday afternoon. I do wonder if the issue is related to my low blood counts? In some ways, I hope that is the problem, as it would mean that when my blood counts rebound I’ll get that cognitive processing back.

    Today, I’m tired – I’m actually looking forward to the post-chemo steroid boost – that is, the extra energy I get on Monday afternoon, Tuesday, and Wednesday because of the steroids given during chemo.

     

  • Fear and feeling better

    Yesterday, I was scared. I didn’t quite realize just how scared I was – and I couldn’t quite label it. I was scared enough that I cried. Then I went out for a bike ride. Biking always makes seems to help clear my head and allows me to figure out what I’m actually thinking.

    I realized on the bike ride that I had a fear of taxol chemo – almost a paralyzing fear – so bad that I was making plans to skip treatment. But I wasn’t sure if the fear was a rational fear or not. My fear is that the side effects that I’m experiencing will become permanent. With each additional treatment, I’m afraid that the damage will be irreversible. This is scaring me more than the fear of the cancer itself, and scaring me more than surgery (which isn’t scaring me anymore).

    Today I’m feeling a little calmer. I’ve been able to label my fear. I sent an email to my oncologist, telling him that I am scared. This will likely be a surprise, as I have always (almost always anyways) been strong during my appointments. But I just need some form of re-assurance. I need to hear that I’m over-reacting, that one more treatment won’t be the ‘one’ that causes irreversible damage.

    Somehow, today I’m not feeling nearly as panicked and scared as I was yesterday. I got a good night’s sleep. Actually, I’ve been sleeping better since the weekend. It has been cooler outside and we bought a new fan to cool the bedroom at night – which has made a huge difference. Unfortunately, the cooler weather isn’t expected to last – with forecast temps as high as 30 degrees C on Friday! So, back into summer temperatures. So, as some of the side effects get worse, others are fading as my body gets accustomed to the chemo. Today, I feel that I can manage one more treatment of taxol …

    I also woke up this morning to fewer eye brows and definite thinning of the eye lashes. I probably have less than 10 hairs on each brow now. However, my head has a nice layer of peach fuzz on it! The transitions in hair growth are somewhat amusing …

    2014-10-01 12.01.10

     

     

  • Flexibility … and some good news …

    One thing I can say for certain, the cancer journey is anything but predictable. I had all of these plans made based upon when my chemo dates would finish … and now things are going to get crazy again.

    My first appointment this morning was with radiation oncology. I saw a resident who was clearly new and needs a fair be more practice at taking histories and listening to patients. He also needs some work on empathy. I am left thinking, how do you teach those skills? I don’t know, but this resident – although clinically wasn’t bad – certainly needed to work on the skills of engaging the patient – but also on things to say and not say to someone on the first consult to radiation oncology!

    When the attending oncologist came in, she began by asking us where we were from and a little bit about us. She introduced herself not just to me but also to my husband. I found myself thinking that the resident really needs to watch the oncologist (perhaps some role modelling) to show how to developed a rapport with me before starting to talk about the cancer. Her synopsis was, given the information they have from my pre-chemo MRIs, and the fact that I’m planning on a bilateral mastectomy, that I most likely will not require radiation. There is the obvious caveat that if the post-surgical pathology finds something, then that assessment might change – in particular if the pathology shows lots of cancer or a specific type of tumor/tumor remnant, then radiation might be warranted. But at this point, the MRI is not indicating that. Yay.

    I should also mention that the resident also did a thorough exam (clearly he was pretty new to this as well – still getting his feet wet) – anyways, he examined my breasts both in the seated and laying down positions – and couldn’t feel anything in either breast, and nothing on the lymph nodes. So, he confirmed that I have no clinical signs of cancer. Again yay.

    Then I saw my oncologist. My blood levels are still declining, but they aren’t low enough to stop chemo or transfuse. With Taxol, I’m experiencing annoying side effects. Again, not bad enough to stop chemo, but enough to be a concern. However, given the lack of clinical signs of cancer (my oncologist also confirmed that he isn’t feeling anything), that we COULD stop chemo and ‘pull the trigger’ on surgery. That it is my choice.

    Part of me has a knee-jerk reaction – I have everything planned out. I have a trip to Ontario booked to see family, I have a trip to Hawaii booked for my breast memorial. All this is based upon finishing 12-weeks of Taxol and have surgery after that.

    Now, if we stop chemo, then we still wait 4-6 weeks for surgery. My body needs time to heal from the chemo (and honestly, I could really use a break right now). My blood counts needs to recover before I can contemplate surgery. But I am encouraged also to have surgery as soon as feasible, because the cancer might not be completely dead. So if it isn’t, we don’t want to allow too much time … surgery needs to happen as soon as it is safe to do so (4-6 weeks after chemo).

    Part of me is feels OK with this. I don’t like the idea of stopping chemo because of side-effects, but stopping chemo because we think the cancer is dead and there is no reason to continue the chemo – that is a good reason to stop it.

    I don’t want to just stop though – I cannot have today be my last chemo day – I need a schedule that says it is my last chemo day – I need to hear the chemo nurses sing the chemo song (they sing to you during your last treatment). I need that in order to feel that it is done.

    So, now I go through reasons why I should stop the chemo – one reason really – side effects. The neuropathy and cognitive disassociation (chemo brain) I’m feeling. The longer I’m on taxol the higher chance these effects can become permanent. In most people, the side effects end within a month or two of the chemo ending, but for some people it is permanent. So the longer I’m on, the more likely there would be long-term damage. That isn’t good. It is a good reason to stop the chemo, even if the cancer wasn’t responding … but given the cancer is responding, it is a pretty compelling reason to decide that I’ve had enough of the Taxol.

    But then part of me says, but you had a plan … Another part of me says, you always knew the plan might need to change … part of me is jumping up and down with joy – this really is the best outcome we could expect.

    And so this week and next, things will get really busy. I will begin with an MRI which will help to confirm what is happening with the tumors. The MRI is the best evidence the surgeons will have, and will be the best evidence I will have. I’ll also push to get the CT of my belly ordered, as that information is needed for plastics. Once the MRI and CT results are in, I’ll meet with both surgeons (breast surgeon who does the mastectomy and plastic surgeon who does the reconstruction) to go through the surgery and dates will get set! I expect lots of appointments in the next few weeks!

     

  • Bear with me – I’m busy – and cognitively challenged

    So this morning I found myself busy. My brain is in overdrive from a thinking perspective, but I do not have the time to get everything done that I want to do. I cannot keep up with everything on my to do list.

    Part of this is trying to get all of the errands I need driving done (DMV, grocery store, bike repair, reiki apt) as well as all of the things that I want to get done that require more concentration – and trying to pack them all into the same day – plus I want to go for a long bike ride while I have strength for that. I think I may be a little over committed.

    In running my errands this morning/afternoon, I notice that my visual cognitive disassociation is happening sooner this cycle; however, it is isn’t as sudden shift and at this point in time is not really that bad – I’m aware of it, but it isn’t bad enough to really affect my ability to do things. I’m still thinking well, and even problem solving – just perhaps, not as quickly as I’d like. So, this cycle I haven’t suddenly noticed that I couldn’t process, however, I’m feeling a mild version of the disassociation. I’m still comfortable driving when I’m alone in the car with no music. I am reminded of my grandmother as she was getting older (and her very early signs of dementia – before we recognized it as such). She would say that she was OK driving alone, but she was very uncomfortable driving with other people in the car. I can totally relate to that feeling.

    One of my errands this morning was a trip to the DMV. When I had tried to book a driving test previously, the person on the phone said they could not book an appointment beyond the time of my temporary permit, and that I first needed to go in the office and renew my temporary permit. I was told that I did not actually need to do the driving test for 1 year after the written, but I needed to have a valid temporary permit. At this point in time, I’m not comfortable committing to a date for the road test, because I have too much variability in my treatment and side effects.

    When I talked to the agent at the DMV, he said he could only issue me a permit on that would be valid to the day of my driving test, and he had to book a driving test. He could book me a test for October 7th (ack). Fortunately, I had the wherewithal to ask to speak to the supervisor.

    You see, the agent wasn’t listening to my story – he wasn’t able to deal with exceptions – he could only process things based upon the rules that he knew. I figured that if I spoke to the supervisor, I could come up with a better strategy for how to handle my specific situation.

    The supervisor was able to listen to my story, appreciate the issue at hand, and provide me with the information I need. I can drive in California under my existing Ontario driver’s license (as long as that is valid – so mental note – must renew when we are in Canada next, as it expires Feb 2015). Since my temporary California permit expires on Monday, the supervisor was able to issue me with a new permit that doesn’t expire until 1-year after my written test (July 22, 2015).

    So now, I have until July 2015 to book my California driving test. The manager could totally appreciate the complexity of medical treatment and how that affected my ability to do the driving test. She just confirmed that I don’t drive when I don’t feel that I am mentally able to, but also appreciated the added stress of doing a driver’s test and how that might not be feasible at the moment. I was concerned about the legalities and insurance – she made an interesting comment that it isn’t relevant if I don’t get pulled over, which I found amusing. So now I can comfortably wait until after surgery to do my California driving test – or I can choose to get it done after the cognitive effects of taxol have worn off.

    Now, I must get back to one of the other 8000 things I feel like I need to do today!

  • Another reflection on chemo brain

    [Free Webinar Wednesday, Sept 17, 9am PDT, noon EDT on chemo brain – http://www.lbbc.org/Events/2014-09-17-Chemobrain]

    A great blog post by Anne Boyer crossed my twitter stream today. In it she talks about her experience with chemo brain after her first cycle of AC chemo. I encourage you to read her post before continuing with this one, as she does such a great job describing how chemo brain manifests itself in her.

    I was lucky. I didn’t have clear indicators of chemo brain during AC chemo – at least not until the last dose, at which time the mouth sores made everything else irrelevant! What I did have was an inability to multi-task or concentrate (if Scott played any music, I became unable to type, write, or think). My inability to multi-task began before the chemo – as I had a hard time concentrating immediately after diagnosis (for that I blame stress and anxiety). However, I noticed during AC chemo that driving took a lot more energy. I could still do it, but to pay attention to so many things at once was exhausting. As the chemo progressed, I found myself thankful for the disabled permit that allows me to use a close parking spot at the grocery store. The cognitive effort associated with finding a parking spot would have made running errands impossible. I may not physically need it from a strength perspective, but I definitely physically need it from a cognitive perspective.

    But as I ventured into the T-chemo regime, the cognitive numbness became more pronounced (actually my cognitive abilities are sharper for the first two days and they then decline rather rapidly). I tried to blog about it, which in hindsight is rather remarkable. When I think about the experience and read about what I wrote, and then read Anne’s description of the effects of Adriamycin on the brain, I find myself wondering what are the effects of Paclitaxol on the brain? And what long-term effects of adriamycin wilI I discover (or not discover as I will have forgotten what I used to be able to do – a blessing I suppose). Anne writes:

    MRIs of other women with breast cancer suggest damage to the visual cortex, “significantly reduced activation of the left middle dorsolateral prefrontal cortex and premotor cortex,” and “ significantly reduced left caudal lateral prefrontal cortex activation, increased perseverative errors, and reduced processing speed.”  Women complain that they lose the ability to read, to recall words, to speak fluently, to make decisions, and to remember.

    One of the things that I didn’t mention in the cognitive numbness post is my difficulty in finding my words. I go to describe something and I’m not able to get the words out. I find myself pausing while I talk (or at least I feel like I’m pausing while I talk). The flow of my language isn’t the same – it has somehow been interrupted. This is one area where I hope that blogging is helping me. It gives me reason to practice using my words. With each blog post I am ‘exercising’ the parts of my brain that I use to analyze problems, and describe them. This mental exercise may prove to be just as valuable to my recovery as the physical exercise I do.

    I cannot help but be offended that these side effects are not mentioned – or at least not talked about in any detail. There was a brief mention in our “Introduction to Chemotherapy” workshop that chemo brain was a potential side effect, and that it was a real thing, and that it was being studied – but that is it. I find it offensive that the side effect has been understudied because women’s description of the symptoms have been dismissed. But also, this side effect is especially scary for me – an academic. When I’m done this treatment, will I still be able to do the work that I do? I have a new found respect for my friend who started her PhD immediately after her cancer treatment. She negotiated PhD courses while under the fog of chemo brain while negotiating life in a new city. All I can say is Wow.

    Another area that I haven’t been able to contemplate since chemo is reading academic articles. I don’t know what that barrier is. It may just be a mental block not related at all to chemo – is might just be that my body wants to take a break from academic work and it is exerting a resistance to reading academic articles. I want to be more knowledgable in certain areas, but I don’t seem to be as capable at search for the right articles, but I also don’t seem to be motivated to read articles. So, I fill my ‘high functioning cognitive days’ with busy work – I get some contract stuff done, I catch up on my emails, I write lots of blog posts – but I don’t read academic articles. I keep hoping that will change soon. I have a few starting to pile up in my ‘to read’ list … I just need the cognitive presents and also the motivation to make that leap – but it just isn’t there yet.

    So for now, I shall keep up my ‘exercise’ and try to write regularly – either here or on my other blog. I can only hope that my words continue to make sense and continue to demonstrate some level of cognitive competence.

     

  • One more chemo day done!

    Today was a busy day up at Stanford. I had an oncology appointment, chemo infusion, and then a workshop on make-up (sponsored by Look good feel better). I’ll talk about the first two here, and the latter in a separate blog post.

    The good news from the oncology appointment is that the thing my oncologist felt in the right breast last time isn’t there anymore. So now, both of my breasts feel like ‘normal healthy breasts’ rather than breasts with tumors in them. This doesn’t mean that all the cancer is gone (they cannot tell that until they remove the breasts and do pathology on the breast tissue), but it does mean that the chemo has significantly reduced the size and texture of the tumors. In short, the chemo is working.

    We decided to reduce the amount of steroid I’m taking. My oncologist thinks that several of the side effects (including the chemo brain) are worse or caused by the change in levels of steroid in my system – so the side effects happen when the steroid wears off. If there is less steroid to begin with, then the change will be less and therefore the side effect less. It is an interesting argument (and not at all intuitive). So now I’m taking less of the steroid and taking it in pill form rather than IV (it means the infusion actually takes longer as I need to wait 30-minutes after the premeds, which I didn’t when all the premeds were IV). I think it is actually the same dose of steroid that I took for the first three rounds of AC, and I tolerated that very well. I’m crossing my fingers that this makes the chemo brain fogginess go away.

    My oncologist also looked at the neuropathy (and did some tests). So far it is pretty minor, but it is starting to effect my balance. I need to start being more careful about biking, but I am still OK. I don’t think it is bad enough to stop biking with my current bikes yet. If it gets worse and for post-surgery, I’m looking into borrowing a recumbent trike, so I don’t need to worry about balance issues, but also the trike format with underseat steering is easier to get into and out of and doesn’t require me to put any weight on my arms for riding post-surgery. If the neuropathy gets too bad, then we stop the chemo and move onto surgery. I don’t really want to go that route, as it would ruin all the plans I have in place for my visit to Canada for American Thanksgiving and Hawaii for my pre-surgery memorial celebration.

    On the infusion front, things were pretty routine. We’ve pretty much got things down now – and today there were no delays in the ITA (infusion treatment area), so things moved along pretty quickly. Since this regime doesn’t make me sick, I can actually get some reading / writing done while in the ITA – although we often have visitors which also provide a great distraction and helps the time to pass quickly.

    So far, I’m hopeful for a stronger cycle – so much so that when I got home today I went for a swim. I’m not as strong as I was at the end of the third round of AC, but that’ll take time to come back. I swam 800m, which is a good start :-). Over the next few weeks I’ll also need to concentrate on doing longer walks – in preparation for our hikes in Yosemite for our anniversary and Mount Tam on October 11 (friendly reminder – you can sponsor us on the links below – every little bit counts – consider donating $7-one dollar for each mile hiked, $12-one dollar for T-Chemo treatment, or $20-one dollar for each week in chemo, or if you really want to sponsor us, you can buy a prayer flag for $100).  Thanks.

    To support Scott’s hike: http://prevention.breastcancerfund.org/goto/scottd
    To support Becky’s hike: http://prevention.breastcancerfund.org/goto/rhogue

  • Breast cancer prevention

    It is with mixed feelings that I read about breast cancer prevention. It is not that I want anyone to get breast cancer, I would not wish that on anyone. It is just that when I read about prevention, I enter that world of regret. I start running through the if onlys

    …if only I had thrown out the water bottles with BPA sooner
    …if only I ate less red meat
    …if only I ate less sugar

    In general, I’m very good at not regretting the past. There is nothing I can do about it now, so no point in dwelling on it right?

    But still, when I hear of a charity that focuses on breast cancer prevention, I’m filled with both regret and doubt (can we really prevent breast cancer?).

    One charity that works to help prevent breast cancer by providing public advocacy and education campaigns based upon scientific evidence (not personal opinion – there are way too many personal anecdotes about what causes cancer!) is the Breast Cancer Fund.

    On October 11 (Canadian Thanksgiving Weekend), Scott and I will be doing a day hike that is a fundraiser for the Breast Cancer Fund. It is a good chance for us to meet some new people (we’ve joined a team captained by a friend-of-a-friend) while going on a hike up Mount Tam in Marin County (just north of San Francisco). It is an area that we haven’t yet explored, so that too should be fun. Mostly, it is a great excuse to get out, and help me get motivated to train for my walk down Mount Haleakalā in December. As this is a fundraiser walk, we could use a little help with fundraising …

    To support Scott’s hike: http://prevention.breastcancerfund.org/goto/scottd

    To support Becky’s hike: http://prevention.breastcancerfund.org/goto/rhogue

  • Food Angst … never surrender

    For much of my adult life, my diet has been about control. I can choose to control what I eat, and as a control freak that is important. I’ve tried several different diets to no avail. Mostly, I’ve learned that my body doesn’t like some foods and it likes others. I’m lactose intolerant but my body is happier when I eat dairy – so I try to stick to dairy that my body likes, perhaps with the exception of ice cream. I may eat a little more ice-cream than I should, but at least it is organic “healthy” ice cream. That’s got to count for something.

    I went through a phase where I didn’t eat gluten. That didn’t go over well. My body likes wheat. I’m allergic to alternatives (quinoa and spelt).

    I’ve learned to listen to my body. Certain foods cause it grief (e.g. tomatoes cause eczema to act up, peppers and walnuts cause heartburn), so I avoid them. Other foods I enjoy.

    Going through chemo has meant that some rules had to be applied to what I eat – e.g no sushi or cold cuts for risk of listeria – but otherwise, all bets were off. I was given free reign to eat whatever I wanted, in part because there were days that I just needed calories. And there is that trust that, since I’m considered “healthy” for a cancer patient, that my diet and exercise regime are already good.

    However, at support group the question comes up “how has your diet changed as a result of cancer?” There is often a discussion about the link between cancer and sugar. I’ve done those diets too BTW – I went totally off sugar and lost a lot of weight but also lost energy. I went totally off sugar substitutes, not wanting my diet to be full of chemicals. I now generally avoid refined sugars, but I am guilty of eating pasta and white bread but I avoid potatoes. I find that too much of diets are fads – and little is truly known about what actually works or doesn’t work. I question whether there is such a thing as a “cancer diet”. Sure, people who used to eat a lot of fast food and junk, stop eating fast food and junk, they do better – but does that mean that sugar is the cause? An the article that crossed my stream today about the link between soy protein and cancer. This particularly annoys me, as it treats all soy as if were one thing. So the highly processed soy protein isolate used in the study is being made equivalent to the whole soy bean (edemame). When I asked the cancer nutritionist about soy, her comment was that whole soy such as edemame and tofu were good, but soy protein isolate which is often used in supplements (and check your granola bars and breakfast cereals) is a bad thing. So, when I read that article, it feels more like fear mongering about all soy, when in fact, some soy might actually be good for you. Note that the asian diet that is mentioned, which is typically a low cancer diet, involves a lot of whole soy products rather than highly processed derivatives.

    Before cancer, I ate a pretty healthy balanced diet, with mostly organic fruits and vegetables and definitely organic meats. Frankly, there are so many variables at play when it comes to diet – I’m just not convinced that whether or not I choose to have a little more ice cream or a brownie will have any affect on my overall health. I just hate being subjected to the guilt around my diet. I hate questioning and feeling guilty because my body is craving red meat, so I choose to have a steak for dinner (buffalo, not beef – so hormone free, grass-fed).

    I don’t want cancer to dictate what I eat. Having cancer means I have lost control of a lot what my body does. I have lost control over how I physically feel, and I’ve completely lost control over my schedule (as much as I try to manage it), and if I could only gain control over my red blood cell production! There are too many areas of my life where I have lost control. I’m not willing to give up control over what I choose to eat. Now, there are days when I don’t really have much choice – queasiness or mouth sores have severely limited what I could eat. I just hate that “cancer diets” propose to make me feel guilty for eating food that I want to eat!

    I’ve decide I have a new theme song when it comes to cancer diets … I’m going to “Never Surrender” (one of my favourite songs when I was teenager) …

  • Not talking = not blogging

    I’m amused that over the last few days it has been extremely difficult for me to talk, and somehow that has resulted in me not blogging.

    I find myself wondering if it is because I cannot even talk to myself! But then, I usually write in my head.

    Truthfully, it is probably because I haven’t done much over the last few days but watch TV and sleep, so I don’t really have much to write about (or talk about).

    My mouth sores got bad enough for me to ask for stronger drugs.  I have been taking liquid morphine for the last couple of days – originally every 2-3 hours, but now I’ve backed off a bit. I slept through most of last night, which has gone a long way to helping me heal. Prior to that I was waking up hourly (or after morphine every 3-hours) with sharp mouth pain. The sore on the back of my mouth where the bottom of my tongue attaches is the worst. Simple things like eating, talking, even licking my lips are not possible – and the difficulty in clearing food from my mouth and brushing my teeth! So many everyday things we do with our mouths.

    But, it is getting better. I no longer feel like my tongue is too big for my mouth – it fits again. The roof of my mouth is still rough, but no longer feels like super scratchy sandpaper – more like the fine grained black sandpaper.

    I have a whole new empathy for those who have had severe side effects with chemo. I can appreciate so much more how people find exercise to be a challenge (having not done any since Tuesday).

    My excuse for not exercising has been an inability to hydrate enough. On Tuesday I rode my bike out to my eye doctor appointment, and I struggled with the heat and inability to suck water from my water bottle.  The food I had brought with me to help keep up my energy stung when I tried to eat it. In addition to pain from motion, I found that I could not eat anything that was the slightest bit acidic or salty. Fortunately, after the appointment Scott could pick me up afterwards and take me home.

    Today I’m going to go to support group, knowing that few people are apt to be there on the long weekend, and I cannot really talk. It will be nice (assuming it is even open) to see familiar faces and just be in the space with people.

    We had originally planned to go on a bit of a bike adventure on Sunday – taking the train to downtown San Francisco and riding towards home – however, that microadventure plan is now on hold. We may try it in a couple of weeks if the new chemo regime doesn’t take too much out of me (it is supposed to be easier, but the first couple of weeks might be difficult). Instead, tomorrow we will venture out to the coast for a walk on the beach. It has been a while since I’ve been out to see the ocean (rather than the Bay, which we see almost daily). I look forward to the smells and the sound of the rolling and crashing waves.

css.php