Bleak House

I know, the title seems to invite death – but it’s the opposite. To read where this title came from, click here: http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/search/label/Introductions

Chemo two was [eleven days ago; this was written on the day we came back from chemo.]

It started out well, we had a nice breakfast and except for a few butterflies in her stomach, Liz was in good spirits. We drove to the hospital on what would turn out to be the hottest day of the new century and one of the hottest days in the past 100 years.

But the air conditioning in a hospital covers a multitude of evils and we had no idea the temperatures were soaring.

We decided we were going to watch SERENDIPITY, a movie I’d wanted to see for some time. We got into a private room and started the movie. We KNEW we weren’t supposed to have Benadryl again because of Liz’s idiosyncratic reaction – it causes “restless leg syndrome” and is extremely uncomfortable.

After the first hour, Liz started to get anxious. The movie was intense and a nurse came in to ask if we would mind switching out of the private room for a transfusion patient who needed to lie down. We of course said fine and moved to the public infusion area – right in the middle of everything…

Being there seemed to sap the energy Liz had started with. While others chatted around us, Liz grew quiet. We watched what was going on, people came to talk to us; Mary (the Infusion Center nurse) came to fire The Red Devil into the port garbed in gown, with glasses, gloves and mask. I spent most of the quiet time reading. Then Liz's back began to act up and we changed places; me taking the "recliner" and her the straight-backed chair.

She was hardly speaking now, responding to Mary with a grim smile. When the infusion concluded, she was ready to go, feeling weak and unsteady.

The look in her eyes was bleak knowing that this was only number two of six. That was when she declared that she wasn't going to do this ever again. We reached home and she laid down to sleep, once again, with a bleak look and tears, she said again that she was NOT going to do that again.

Bleak house, indeed.

Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7wQF4rYgPPbyp6a55C-vcdj6uhAt_SJlQO5nqpXUvRCjMrWTekhsY3JXA5-ZXU0khLmcw-MyvmqfLcSPYmJvqb2OVO0x35vcXsojIrOs636vZ6LsPeI0gtk9V0jfQMICgQOiyIcyLTm4/s320/blizzardretouched.jpg

__i__ __

I know, the title seems to invite death. Not to my way of thinking or to the way a word freak looks at words! To read where it came from, click here: http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/search/label/Introductions

There they are.

The objects of our intense admiration and desire (see HOOTERS® Is Not The Name Of An All Woman Brass Band…http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2011/04/hooters-is-not-name-of-all-women-brass.html).

And then, they’re gone.

Really, no matter what, the 20-something organs of their youth will be gone. Sooner or later, one way or another they will disappear. If they are claimed by breast cancer, what’s left to attract us? What drives our wet dreams? What do we ogle?

Jamie Lee Curtis insured her legs for $ 1 million…

I can think of more than one behind that caught my adolescent eye…

Lips are more than Luscious Lavender lipstick showcases…

I’m a hair man, myself – short, efficient, showing off a well-shaped head (think Ripley Scott’s alter ego, Sigourney Weaver in ALIEN…)

Wrist to shoulder, Gomez Addams could find nothing sexier on his wife Morticia than her slender arms…

Solomon wrote in The Book of Songs 4:4, “Your neck is more graceful than the tower of David, decorated with thousands of warriors' shields.”

Women make a living recording smoky, contralto wake up calls, computer interfaces and acting during pay-per-call phone sex…Certainly, “Hey, big boy,” are words I enjoy hearing from my beloved when they are laced with promise and seduction…

Michelle Pfeiffer’s eyes also reside in my wife. I can’t be the ONLY man who has gone weak in the knees when his wife turns on an amazingly incendiary gaze of limpid pools of jade promise…

The __ i __ __ are gone, man! If you’re tempted to wail, “But that was the best part!” then I suggest you entertain fantasies that include legs, le derrière, lips, hair, arm, neck, voice and them eyes!

Oh, yeah!

image: http://images.sodahead.com/polls/000883187/Addams_Family_tv_01_answer_4_xlarge.jpeg

WHY Do So MANY Women Have Breast Cancer?

I know, the title seems to invite death – but it’s the opposite. To read where this title came from, click here: http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/search/label/Introductions

The roommate of our foster daughter is somewhat estranged from her mother and through the grapevine last week, discovered that her mother had had a preliminary diagnosis of breast cancer. It turned out to be benign cysts, but Liz raised the immediate question: Why do so MANY women have breast cancer?

A legislator in the district in which I live sent an email to her constituency that she had finished a recent session (though it ended deadlocked and a special session is in the works). She also shared that she was in the final stages of ovarian cancer and she was in hospice. We all raised the question: Why do so MANY women have cancer?

Is it something in the environment? Is it the fast food and processed foods we eat constantly? Is it because we’re living longer that cancers get a chance to grow? Is it because we’re better at detection now and deaths that were at one time “unexplained” now have a clear cause?

Well, a dose of the facts never hurt anyone – it only shakes preconceived notions and perceptions.

FACT: Incidence of Breast Cancer

1975-80 – held steady at 110/100,000 women

1980-87 – increased by 4% per year

1987-1994 – held steady at 140/100,000 women

1994-99 – increased by 2% per year

1999-2006 – decreased by 2% per year to 120/100,000 women

(http://www.cancer.org/acs/groups/content/@nho/documents/document/f861009final90809pdf.pdf)

What causes breast cancer? The short, concise answer is: “Don’t know, trying to find out.”

There are risk factors – none of which are related to the environment or food additives. In order, they are advancing age, family history, use of hormones, high doses of radiation (ie – nuclear reactor), obesity, booze and a fatty diet.

So as people get older and exercise less they increase the risk of breast cancer. The perception that it’s everywhere, while frightening, isn’t exactly true – HOWEVER the fact that the longer you live the more friends you have is an observable phenomenon. That increase in the number of friends makes it a statistical certainty that your chance of knowing someone with breast cancer will approach 100%.

This all means…what?

For me it means I will continue to write this blog; next year I will join one of the endurance events targeting fund raising to find a cure for breast cancer and I’ll speak at Cooper’s Relay For Life like they asked me to do this year.

It means we’ll all keep fighting, bankrolling, inspiring and looking for ways that a cure for one kind of cancer can apply to another kind of cancer.

Image: http://blogs-images.forbes.com/glennllopis/files/2011/04/risk.jpg

The World Didn’t Fall Off Its Axis

I know, the title seems to invite death – but it’s the opposite. To read where this title came from, click here: http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/search/label/Introductions

Nine Thursdays ago, Liz had the biopsy that confirmed that she had breast cancer.

I will never forget that day: the blood dripping down the breast; holding Liz’s hand as the dark shadows formed on the ultrasound screen; the needle withdrawing the cells and depositing them in small vials of liquid preservative; the dim light of the procedure room; Liz’s hand squeezing mine; the doctor in gown and mask and goggles; soft words of deep regret…

Everything changed as I walked into the foyer to call my parents; my best friend; my brothers and sister…

Then came the cold rush toward a double mastectomy – nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing COULD ever be the same again.

Outside, it was spring. At work, graduation was weeks away and seniors had to be shepherded; at Liz’s work, kids came down with colds and teachers wondered what was going on for a few brief moments. And then, the surgery was over and we had to wait for the healing until chemotherapy could begin.

Now there are tornadoes everywhere; disasters are being declared; spring has sprung/the grass is ris/there’s no more wondering where the flowers is/they is HERE!

Liz’s breast cancer, for all it knocked our world askew changed nothing else outside of us. The garbage still accumulates, the checkbook still needs balancing and aside from a couple of simple scores we experienced by throwing the “C” word around (speedy delivery of a new washer when Liz shared that we needed it to wash clothing poisoned by chemo leaking out of Liz’s pores – and the scheduler had an aunt who was a breast cancer survivor; and the possibility of Mary using it on an essay for a scholarship for her third year of college).

Our lives are still upside down, but the rest of the world goes on as always.

I’m not sure what I’m learning from that, but I’m going to try and take my lessons from the BEST it has to offer: I need to remain sympathetic to those who suffer disaster, even after it leaves the headlines and falls to the back page; I need to consider those who CANNOT afford chemotherapy; I need to be thankful that we live at the dawn of the second decade of the 21^st Century and not the dawn of the second decade of the 20^th Century.

Our world is upside down; the rest of the planet is not.

Thanks be to God for that!

Image: http://vishal12.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/220px-apollo17worldreversed.jpg?w=220&h=220

6...5…4…3…2…1…0…Lift Off!

Six…On Tuesday we started chemotherapy at the infusion center. From check-in to exit, it took us a bit over six hours. Everyone (including Liz) forgot Liz’s idiosyncratic reaction to Benadry®, so after they plugged the tubes into the port, they gave the small packet of that in order to keep her from an allergic reaction to the medication. Not long after, she went into something called “restless leg syndrome”. It’s something I’ve gotten used to over the past 24 years – when her legs are feeling this way, she has to keep moving them. I got used to the bed, the couch, the car seat, the floor bouncing around as she works off the sensation of crawly thingies on her leg.

This was worse than anything I’ve ever seen. She ended up standing for the entire four hours of chemo delivery. They also gave her something to counteract the Benadry®, but that didn’t start to have any effect until she was nearly done. Then she got loopy and almost fell down on our way out. I walked with her hand in the crook of my elbow until we got to the car. When I let go, she stumbled while I was unlocking the door. Once we were in the car and actually on the way home, she fell fast asleep. (I totally deny that she snored even the tiniest bit!)

Prior to the first chemo infusion, we went through an orientation session where the nurse tried to tell us everything that would happen. It took a long time, it was great, but left us with more information than we could possibly handle. One of the things we remembered best was that after this day, they hinted that she’d feel pretty good and then begin a slide to Friday or so when she’d have to sleep.

Oops. She slept away most of Wednesday and about half of Thursday! Of course, another thing they told us was that “Every person is different!” So…what’s next? What ELSE is going to be different? The dietician said that she HAD to keep up on the calories – so she can eat ice cream, eggs, toast, butter, PB and all KINDS of yummy things! However, we also found out today that Liz isn’t hungry at night – so she’s supposed to compensate and eat more in the morning…

This, my friends, is the NEW NORMAL!

And now – like the countdown for this last flight of the Space Shuttle Endeavor, OUR countdown, Liz’s countdown has begun. Five more left – and then, like Endeavor’s eventual return to Earth, Liz will have a triumphant return to some sort of version of the OLD NORMAL!

Image: http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com/news_space_thewritestuff/files/2010/09/space-shuttle-endeavour-launch-2.jpg

Husbanding a Bigger Middle…

I know, the blog's name seems to invite death – but it’s the opposite. To read where this title came from, click here:http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/search/label/Introductions

With my focus on Liz’ cancer, I’ve not paid much attention to what I’m eating. Well, not exactly. My problem is that I pay too MUCH attention to what I eat and what I don’t do.

See, I’m not an exercise nut. I’m exercise-a-phobic. It’s strange, but my GOOGLE search turns up a name for being afraid of everything EXCEPT fear of exercise. Smartalecks chime in on CHACHA and YahooAnswer to quip that the fear of exercise is laziness. But I’m not so sure – this person isn’t, either:http://exercise.about.com/od/plateausmotivation/a/overcomingfear.htm so I’m going to name it: exercerophobia: fear of exercise; from the Latin from L. exercitium "training, exercise," from exercitare, frequentative of exercere "keep busy, drive on," lit. "remove restraint," fromex- "off" (see ex-) +arcere "keep away, prevent, enclose,"

While that may not seem significant to you, naming something allows me to deal with it. When the breast cancer Liz had received a name: infiltrative ductal carcinoma, I was able to GOOGLE it and read about it. While I don’t consider myself an expert, some of my terror was allayed and I was able to read about treatment, steps to take and what it was.

Madeleine L’Engle, one of my favorite writers both as a kid and as an adult, has this to say about “naming”:

"I Name you Echthroi.

I Name you Meg.
I Name you Calvin.
I Name you Mr. Jenkins.
I Name you Proginoskes.
I fill you with Naming.
Be!
Be, butterfly and behemoth,
be galaxy and grasshopper,
star and sparrow,
you matter,
you are,
be!
Be caterpillar and comet,
Be porcupine and planet,
sea sand and solar system,
sing with us,
dance with us,
rejoice with us,
for the glory of creation,
seagulls and seraphim
angle worms and angel host,
chrysanthemum and cherubim.
(O cherubim.)
Be!
Sing for the glory
of the living and the loving
the flaming of creation
sing with us
dance with us
be with us.
Be!"

- Madeleine L'Engle, A Wind in the Door

Knowing what something IS helps me to face it. To know it, it needs to have a name. Once it has a name, then I can call it out. Breast cancer has a name I can understand and while we haven’t experienced complete victory yet, the enemy we confront has a name and we can do battle.

I’ve been fighting exercerophobia for years without knowing what its name was. Now that it’s REALLY important that I remain healthy, I’ve found its name – and can engage in battle.

Image: http://image.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/8939/8939,1191395252,1/stock-photo-overweight-man-holding-his-hand-to-his-beer-belly-having-eating-too-much-pizza-5817157.jpg

Bust Drug!

Last week we spoke with the oncologist. What the heck is that and why is it called that?

If you’re like me, you’ve been snowed under the uncounted number of fancy terms: mastectomy, oncology, lumpectomy, pathology, chemotherapy, lymphodema and a zillion others.

Now we come to the big O…Why don’t they call it what this person is: a cancerologist? At least I’d understand that! So what’s an “onco”? What’s a “logist”?

My dictionary says this: “1857, coined in English from Modern Latin onco = ‘tumor’, from the original Greek word, onkos = ‘mass, bulk’ + logy = ‘science or study of’”. So an oncologist is someone who studies tumors, masses and bulks.

So I get that, now. What about the other terms? After spending time internet searching every word I didn’t understand, I thought I had things pretty well under control. Then the oncologist tossed out some really, really weird terms: Taxotere + Adriamycin + Cytoxan and the next day, something called neulasta. These are what I’m coming to think of as “bust drugs” – at least as far as I can tell, they’re used to combat any possible cancer that has found its way from the breast and axillary lymph nodes (there are those fancy terms again!) into the rest of the body. A friend of ours had a scare that the cancer cells had broken free of the breast and caused a brain tumor. That wasn’t the case, but she does have lesions on her bones. So I did a little reading on this page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breast_cancer_chemotherapy , then I went to GOOGLE and in the main page, typed “define: xxxxx” and hit enter. You should be able to do this for any of the drugs you’re going to run into during your wife’s breast cancer battle. In Liz’ case:

Taxotere: anti-mitotic chemotherapy medication (that is, it interferes with cell division)

Adriamycin: an anthracycline (a kind of substance that messes up cancer cell DNA) antibiotic…and like all anthracyclines, it works by inserting itself into the cancer cell’s DNA so the cells can’t make new cancer cells

Cytoxan: a cyclophosphamide that has been converted into a non-toxic "transport form". This transport form is a “pro-drug”, subsequently actively transported into the cancer cells. Once in the cells, enzymes convert the drug into the active, toxic form that kills the cancer cell

Neulasta: recombinant human granulocyte colony-stimulating factor (GCSF) analog used to stimulate the bone marrow to produce more neutrophils (white blood cells) to fight infection in patients undergoing chemotherapy

OK – I get some of it now! Sorta wish doctors and clinics would speak in plain English, but then, they wouldn’t sound so…doctoral if they did. Anyway, this made me feel better. Hope it helps you, too!

Image: http://archive.thecitizen.com/files/images3/Mike%20and%20Cs%20drug%20bust.jpeg