Alopecia Issues

It's not the first time I've disliked a chemotherapy agent!  I mean, really, who likes getting chemo?  Once I came to the conclusion that Taxotere is evil, I went ahead and allowed myself to Google it. I like to read the forums after reading the "official" and medical sites.  You can get a list of potential side effects from many sources, but to get the "real" scoop, the forums are the way to go.  Real stories.  Real people, speaking of their experiences and telling it like it is!  I especially like the ones that are specifically geared to stage IV breast cancer patients.  These ladies know what I'm going through!  They know the struggles and challenges of ongoing, indefinite treatment.

It didn't take long to find that A LOT of folks agree with my assessment of Taxotere.  It's just bad stuff, y'all!  Oh and get this.  After doing my reading, I started getting "ads" about LAWSUITS against the makers of Taxotere alleging that the drug caused PERMANENT hair loss!  Whaaaaat?  Admittedly, losing my hair, and being bald for most of the past four years, is not an issue that upsets me too much anymore.  Sure, I did enjoy having a little hair during the past year.  Because women just don't look good bald.  There I said it.  One can look good, "considering" that they're bald.  But I think most people would agree that a woman with hair is prettier than one without.  I'm digressing here, sorry.  Back to the lawsuits ... permanent hair loss has got to really suck for those who have completed their cancer treatment and expect their hair to come back.  Now, part of the hand I've been dealt in this cancer game is that it seems I DO have permanent loss of my eyebrows and most of my eyelashes.  This is seriously a question that I'm going to have to discuss with God when I meet Him in Heaven.  Really ... I have stage IV cancer.  Last year, after a miserable, months-long decline in my health, I nearly died.  Yet I was fortunate enough get on a chemotherapy drug combination that provided me with a miracle turnaround, and the reprieve lasted for many months.  During that time my hair grew back, albeit thin.  But my eyebrows never did! Why, God?  Having no eyebrows looks funny!  Yes, I know, I could paint them on, but I'm totally not handy or crafty or artsy, and honestly, I've never been very good at makeup and haircare. Thankfully, for most of my life I was blessed with naturally curly hair that didn't require a lot of work.  Good thing because I truly am rather spastic with a curling iron and not so great with a blow dryer either, although I did get pretty good with a diffuser attachment when big hair was in!  My poor girls had to tolerate my giving them lame and simple ponytails all their young lives .. but the upside to that is that all 3 of them learned how to do amazing braids all by themselves!  But back to my eyebrow & eyelash issue ... the other thing is, I'm lazy.  No, I mean low-maintenance.  Yea, that's it! I really do not want to have to do paint eyebrows on or stick eyelashes on every day, or any day for that matter!  Anyhoo ... very funny, God, very funny.  I see what you did there ... growing my hair everywhere but my eyebrows and eyelashes so I STILL LOOK like a cancer patient.  Good one.

Well that was quite the go-off on my feelings toward my alopecia!  Sorry, y'all, once I got started it just kept flowing.  Evidently it bothers me more than I like to admit.

Update and Good News

Well hello!  Long time no blog, right?  So much to report here that I'm going to apologie in advance for what may be a lengthy rant on a hodge-podge of topics.

First, the good news, or shall I say GREAT news!  I've been on Taxotere for about 3 months now and my scans are looking good!  Lesions previously seen in my liver have all decreased in sie, and there is NO pleural effusion noted.  Wowwww!  The bones and lungs are reported as "stable" which is not NED (no evidence of disease) but pretty happy news nonetheless on the stage IV cancer front.  Additionally, my tumor marker (CA 15-3) is down to 35 from a previous high of 51 ("normal" range is 1-25, but a decrease is still a decrease, let's be honest.)  I really, really needed this news!  Of course, you say, who wouldn't want to receive this kinda news?  Right!  But you see, I've found Taxotere to be a horrible, nasty drug and without seeing some sort of positive results, I was considering getting off of it.

I was put on a every-3-week regimen.  It didn't take me long to come to the conclusion that I absolutely hated the drug.  It affected what felt like every part of my body and it really brought me down, leaving me emotionally and physically drained and unhappy.  Digestive issues such as nausea, vomiting, diarrhea and constipation; deep, intense bone and joint pain; weakness and exhaustion.  I've already covered the issue with my sense of taste being altered.  At some point this worsened to the sense of taste completely leaving me, oh and my tongue feeling numb and tingly, as a result of oral candiadiasis (thrush.)  What fun!  My eyes watered excessively and my eyelids were itchy, irritated and peeling.  I was hoping/expecting that I would no longer have the "Carbo-Glow," a purply-red face rash that developed a day or so after each infusion, however, the Taxotere also caused the same reaction!  It's a little uncomfortable ... an intense heating of the cheeks that kinda sorta makes you cold as a sunburn would, but it's more of an embarrassing appearance issue than a physical problem.  Taxo-Glow.  Yay.  But hey at least I'm not tender to the touch all over along with the redness.  There's that.

I've put off writing because it's so depressing what comes out of me if I try to blog when I'm deep in the throes of chemo misery (case in point, see my last post.)  So what you're getting here is an abbreviated version (you're welcome!  Thank you, Kim, for small favors, right?)  The side effects I've listed were collectively short-lived, not all simultaneous and of varying durations.  Some started the day of the infusion and all were improved by about day 10 of the 21-day cycle.  Additionally, they seemed to get worse with each successive infusion -- the recovery came more quickly after the first infusion than the next two, taking a full 10 days after the third infusion. However, I can't stress enough how intense this period of time was, and just how low it brought my psyche.  Time slowed to a crawl and the week to 10 days of hell seemed to take forever to crawl out of.  I was ready to give it up!  I was thinking this just isn't living, and I don't want to take it anymore.

I feel the need to explain further, lest you think that I'm just a wimp.  Plenty of people get through chemo, even worse ones than Taxotere.  I know this.  But with stage IV (metastatic) cancer, you have the added factor that there is no end date.  There is no magical number of infusions when you'll be done with treatment and can go back to your life.  I'm definitely not downplaying this, the most common and generally well-known cancer treatment path.  I'm aware that every cancer treatment is life-changing.  No one comes out of their cancer journey unscathed.  However, the permanent nature of one's stage IV cancer treatment gives us "metasurvivors" (I personally hate that term, but it's a thing) a unique perspective that is difficult for others to completely comprehend.  I don't wish true comprehension of this on anyone, for it requires that you experience it firsthand!

I'm also starting to think that the longer I'm in treatment, the less tolerant I get of the side effects.  Perhaps it's a psychological issue.  Most likely, yes!  It just wears you out, ya know?  Super survivor chicks like to say "Cancer doesn't define me!" and other such statements.  And Ok, sure, it doesn't define me, but doggone it, it sure has taken over so many aspects of my life!  It's exhausting.  And after years and years of treatment, it gets old.  Really old.  I'm sure anyone with a chronic illness can relate to this.  Everyone has at least one thing in life they are dealing with ... maybe even issues that are not visible/obvious to others.  (no longer my case, because alas, I'm bald again, since about day 10 on Taxotere.)

I'm going to call it a day on this blog post.  I will say that the scan results and decrease in tumor marker has given me the strength and resolve to continue on Taxotere, despite the fact that it's of the devil!  Well, that, and I'm now on an altered regimen that actually is more tolerable.  Details later.

Goodnight y'all!

Today sucks

I should never wait this long to post when there's so much happening.  I always think I'll remember how everything went down enough to produce a coherent and chronological account, but with my permanent chemobrain in full swing, THAT will never happen!

Let's just start with today, shall we?  Today sucks.  Any food that's not sweet, I can't taste.  It doesn't taste bad or unpleasant, it just has no taste at all.  Specifically, I can't taste salt.  This seems to have come on in the last few days or so.  I haven't gone my usual way of overanalysing everything so I can't yet comment on my ability to perceive bitter and sour, but the inability to discern saltiness is disconcerting to say the least.  The implications of this particular side effect of Taxotere are devastating to me.  I love to eat.  You might say I'm obese in spirit.  What's the point of eating when you can't taste anything?!  I also love to cook.  What's the point of cooking and exploring new recipes like I like to do if I can't taste anything?  Enjoyable events in my life and my family's life are celebrated around and with food.  I'm being robbed of one of life's basic pleasures!

This is familiar territory for me.  Two of my previous chemotherapies were drugs similar to Taxotere.  One of those caused altered taste sensation in the same manner (inability to taste saltiness.)  It sucked then, too!  I can't stop my thoughts from going to the long term here.  If this drug WORKS on the cancer, then I will stay on it for as long as it does.  Not being able to taste salt is not a valid or even remotely life-threatening reason to want to stop taking it!  I mean, sure, I've lots of side effects that I dislike.  But this one ranks pretty high when you consider it a quality of life issue.  I know, I know.  I know what you're thinking.  I sound so pathetic!  REALLY, Kim?  Yes, I'm having a pity party.  I want to taste my foooooooooooood!

And the icing on today's cake?  I have not one but TWO kids home sick today with stomach issues:  vomiting and diarrhea.

Uggh, NOT a good day.  Sorry y'all.  Obviously I can't even get past today's woes to discuss the past few weeks on this new treatment.  I won't return here til I'm in a better frame of mind, promise.  Prayers for that, please.

Time for a Change

It's been a week since I received my latest scan results from Dr. C.  Haven't really felt like writing ... trying to let it all sink in and get my mind in proper "strong" mode in preparation for a (another) treatment change.  I'm usually able to do this rather quickly, but then as time goes by, I work out the various side effect scenarios and get myself all nervous.

In a couple of weeks, I'll be starting on the chemotherapy Taxotere.  Carboplatin and Gemcitabine have run their course and do not appear to be working as well as previously:  The CT scan showed fairly significant tumor growth and new tumors in my liver.  The lungs are mostly stable, as are the bones.  Also, my CA 15-3 tumor marker is elevated again.  It's been trending upward for a little while now.

What I expected was that the scan would show "slight" progression, but not significant enough to warrant a treatment change.  This seems to be the way my cancer operates.  Progressive, slow growth for a few scans, then at some point a determination that the slow and steady growth is clearly too much.  My liver metastases have never really been a concern.  My lung (the pleura=lining) and the pleural effusion (fluid in the lung) have always been the squeaky wheel.  As I mentioned in my previous post, I'm having no respiratory/lung symptoms/issues.  So I was surprised when Dr. Coscio showed us and described the CT results.  She handed me a copy of the report, which described in painful detail the cancer progression seen in my liver.  My liver!  Dimensions of several metastatic lesions were notated, and those were compared to their previous dimensions.

I was even more surprised when she outlined the options.  Number one:  Stay on Carbo/Gem and "wait and see" what the scans showed in 3 more months.  Number two:  move to a new drug -- not just new to me but a relatively newly approved drug-- which is given in combination with some type of hormone therapy.  Some of the hormonal options were drugs I've been on before and they either didn't work at all or stopped working at some time.  However, there is a possibility they could work or work again in combination with this new drug.  Option number three:  switch to a different chemotherapy drug-- Taxotere.  Taxotere is related to Abraxane, which I've been on before and actually had some success with.  I was on it for approximately 15 months so clearly it worked for a time or I wouldn't have lasted that long with it.  I also tolerated it pretty well, from what I recall.  It's really hard to keep track of all of the different treatments I've been on and their associated side effects!  Not to mention the effectiveness (or lack thereof) of each one.  It's not my job as a patient to manage all of this, but ... I do try.  I keep a running record in my iPhone notes of the names and dates of my cancer treatments.  Not each individual infusion, mind you, but what I'm on, when it was started and when it was discontinued.  More and more often, I am also adding notes of why they were stopped and what troubles I had with each.  Hard to believe I've been in cancer treatment of one form or another for 16 YEARS!  10 years as stage IV.

Option number one doesn't really sound good to me, and I don't think Dr. C approves either.  Although, if I would have wanted to stay on it another 3 months, she would have allowed it.  "Wait and see"?  I think not.  She explained that since there is growth in the liver metastases and slight growth in the lung pleura, it is only a matter of time before the lung starts producing fluid again (pleural effusion has been the bane of my cancer fight for the past year and a half.)  I get it:  We don't want to let the cancer get that kind of foothold again.  It was a miracle from God that I overcame the colossal fluid buildup, massive "tumor burden," and emaciating weight loss.  Let's switch now and hope for a fabulous response before the downward spiral to death starts again.

Option number two involves the latest and greatest drug for advanced breast cancer.  I could be excited about it, but I'm not because we'd have to add hormonal therapy to the mix.  Some of these didn't work at all.  Some worked for a long or little while, but at some point stopped working.  Along the course of "sampling" a vast array of different drugs to treat my cancer, we have already "revisited" hormone therapy (in other words, abandoned it because it didn't work, then went back to it at a later time) and it was unsuccessful.  So, I don't have much confidence in it as a whole.  As an aside, one of the hormonal drugs being considered is given as an intramuscular injection-- TWO OF THEM-- every 3-4 weeks.  I HATE injections!  The kicker, though, is that I've been on that particular drug (Faslodex) before, and not only was the delivery method painful and extremely stressful for me, but it didn't work on my cancer.  No motivation to continue on it then, and definitely no motivation to get back on it now.  I'm willing to tolerate a lot of side effects for a drug that's working, but, well, you get the idea here.  

Option number three ... Dr. C said that typically if one drug in the class is successful, others may be also.  Considering this and the above mentioned facts on my success with Abraxane, I chose #3, the Taxotere chemotherapy.  I will lose my hair again, but I'm okay with that.  Thin, sparse, and slow-growing though it's been, I've been enjoying my short 'do.  A single large bottle of shampoo is all I've purchased in the last year.  Just the other day, after getting the new chemo news, I had the following thoughts, in a span of about 3 seconds:  Hey, I'm running low on shampoo, finally ... Oh goodie, I think I'll buy a different kind/scent this time ... Wait ... I won't be needing more shampoo any time soon.  :(  So, sure, there's a little sadness about it, I'm not going to lie.

The other thing is-- and I've discussed this before-- that it's so OBVIOUS that you have cancer when you're bald.  There is no pretending that you're just a normal woman.  You are a cancer patient, and everyone knows it.  Additionally, once your hair is back, people think you're done with treatment and everything is looking up.  I'm going to AGAIN lose my hair, which will signal that things are not looking good, which in this case IS true.  However, having hair when you're a stage IV cancer patient doesn't mean that all is peachy. The Carbo/Gem combo I've been on for the past year has been very harsh on my body, even though it doesn't cause total alopecia.  I'm operating on extremely low blood counts (red and white cells,) platelets, magnesium levels.  It is amaing how the human body can adapt and get by fairly nicely on such out-of-whack insides (case in point:  how in the world did my heart continue to function when it was displaced to the right side of my chest?)  Even when my counts are "good," meaning at a level adequate to receive my next chemotherapy dose, they are still way, way below the "normal" range.  There is lots happening behind the scenes with me that are "invisible" to others.  My point is that just because a chemo drug causes hair loss, doesn't necessarily make it a "stronger" one than others.  The perception of outsiders is that losing your hair is the worst!  But it isn't.

In fact, Taxotere may be "tolerated" better than Carbo/Gem of the past year, as it doesn't always severely affect the blood counts.  The unknown is what is unnerving.  Only time will tell which side effects I'll have on this new drug.  I'll receive the infusion and wait and find out for myself.  Will I be tired?  Will I be nauseated?  Will my neuropathy worsen or improve?  Will I be plagued with persistent low blood counts and platelets?  Will my low magnesium level improve?  Will it cause diarrhea?  Who knows!  It will be an "adventure" of finding out just how I'll be affected and figuring out what will work to counteract the SE's.  Fun ... not.

On the plus side ... I won't have the "Carbo Glow" to deal with any longer.  This is the embarrassing reddish-purple face rash that I always get a couple days after my infusion.  And I won't have the extreme-tenderness-to-the-touch of my skin that follows the Carbo Glow.  And I won't have the sensitivity to sound and intolerance to anything remotely aggravating (such as my kids, family, and virtually anything that I deem an unsettling incident or situation.)  At least, I HOPE these things will go away!!  Hoping, praying that my time on Taxotere is low on side effects and high on effectiveness!!!

The Latest, Scanxiety and Happy Garden Pics

Received chemo infusion today:  8 different drugs.  Feeling a little run down  and looking a little pale with dark circles under my eyes ... gee I wonder why!  I'm also visiting the toilet too often since shortly after ingesting the barium contrast (hidden inside a happy looking clear cup of lemonade) yesterday in preparation for my CT scan of the chest, abdomen and pelvis.  Cancer fun.  NOT!

How 'bout some happy news??  Sounds good to me.  Maybe writing it out will boost my spirits some.  We finally sold our home!  It was final on January 21st.  Whew, feels so good to have that what-became-a-burden lifted from our lives.  After a longer than expected renovation project, multiple deals gone bad, and I don't even want to say how many months of dual mortgage payments (the ouchiest of the owies!!), we finally are owners of just a single home again!

There is still so much we miss about that house, but we've made some progress at the new house in making it more "ours," and that has helped.  A few new pieces of furniture, some new plants and trees, and weather allowing us to be outside more have all added some joy to our always-stressful lives.  Just looking at my trees, plants and flowers gives me happiness!  And planning for future gardening projects really excites me.  Oh and also home decorating projects.  I'm a dreamer, what can I say?

We found a private spot for a fire pit and our swing, so we've had enjoyable time on some sweet, clear-sky nights.  I seem to be having longer-than-3-week breaks from chemo due to continued low blood count issues, so that allows me more "feeling pretty good" time. 

I do, however, currently have worries about the CT scan results.  The last one done 3 months ago showed some progression, but not enough to warrant treatment change.  Wondering what this one will show.  My tumor marker (CA 15-3) is still trending upward and is now the highest it's been since I've been on this Carboplatin/Gemcitabine chemo regimen.  Also, this may seem silly, but when I exited the CT exam room, there was a crowd of workers in scrubs (techs, docs, who knows who?) standing around the computer monitor screens facing the room I was in.  This could just be coincidental and totally meaningless, but I worked in healthcare for many years.  In my mind I'm thinking, there must be something interesting to see on my scans, and they have called others over to see it.  Is it a lot of fluid?  Is it large tumors?  Has my heart been displaced to my right side again?  What is it?  If it's nothing, they really shouldn't do that where the patient can see them when she leaves!

I am trying to look at the positives which are mostly that I feel none of the symptoms I had when I was dealing with the major pleural effusion issues last year.  No cough, no fever, no tachycardia.  I am feeling a slight pressure in the center of my chest which worsens when I lay on either side.  The only other issues are treatment-related:  gradually worsening peripheral neuropathy, symptoms of magnesium deficiency, and fatigue -- all caused either directly or indirectly by the chemotherapy.  Oh and gastrointestinal problems.  I've mentioned before that my insides have never been the same since receiving radiation to my lower spine a couple years ago.

I'm scheduled to see Dr. C on Monday to get CT results.  Prayers appreciated!!!

I leave you with some happy pictures taken from my garden today...

Putting Out Fires

Uggh, life's just hard!  You ever get to a point where you're just sick and tired of everything?  Lately I'm feeling like my whole existence is spent "putting out fires" ... taking care of problems, handling issues that we seem to be a magnet for.  House, business, family, relationships, kids, money, insurance.  There's not a single area in my life that isn't down on its luck right now! 

Today I'll share my health insurance woes.  This story is a doozy.  Last November, I was notified by my health insurance carrier that my PPO insurance coverage was being changed to an HMO plan.  I received the letter, and viewed it as simply an inconvenience.  I envisioned having to review the HMO that they were automatically moving me to and, if I didn't like it, having to go and find one that I did.  Who feels like doing all of that??  It wasn't until I saw this article in the Houston Chronicle in the first week of December that I was enlightened to what was really happening and realized the awful situation I was actually in.  (Too bad I didn't also see THIS ARTICLE and foresee that it would be affecting me, back in October)

It turns out that I was one of the 1,000's of policyholders in the Houston area whose PPO policies were being discontinued.  And the HMO that I was offered in its place?  MD Anderson was no longer "in network."  In fact, MD Anderson was no longer "in network" of any individual or Affordable Care Act's PPO's.  Suddenly we were scrambling to find alternative coverage that would allow me to continue receiving care at MDA, where I have been a stage IV breast cancer patient for over 9 years.  Having such a long and complicated medical history, it seemed impossible that I could simply switch to another oncologist.  Not only that, but I didn't WANT to switch!  I have long maintained that I'm alive today because of MD Anderson's care.  It's the #1 cancer treatment center in the world, after all.  Patients travel from across the globe to be seen there, and for good reason.  Hard to fathom that I, an established patient in active treatment, could no longer receive treatment there when I live in the Houston area.  I'm not just on follow-up, and I'm not cancer-free (and never will be.)  My life depends on regular chemotherapy infusions to keep my cancer at bay.

I explained the situation to my doctor, and was assured by her that MDA would do what they could so that I would have no gap in care.  Of course they were aware that this insurance issue would unfortunately affect many patients like me.

So, the scrambling.  I got in touch with the independent insurance agent superman (Ben) who had helped me through my last health insurance crisis (see this blogpost from 2 years ago) which by the way, had NOTHING on this current crisis.  He immediately went to work for me and after MUCH back and forth, documentation, email & phone communication and paperwork (and lots of worry and anxiety from me,) was able to set me up with a new plan that allows me to continue being treated at MD Anderson.  I've left out a lot of details, but I will just say that I am blessed to have this option available to me.  I want to add that I could have never navigated through all of this without Ben's help, and he even worked on my case and others' while he himself was dealing with health issues and recovering from surgery.  Thank you, Ben!!!

Backing up a bit ... to the process and its associated anxiety.  After much doing, Ben assured me that my coverage would take effect on January 1st.  He forwarded the details of my situation, including the fact that my next chemo was scheduled for the first week of January, to the powers that be (in the new policy department, or something) and we waited. Ben had done his part, I had sent a check in for the 1st month's premium, and all we could do was wait for the insurance company to do its part and "process" it all.  I was told that due to the sheer volume of new policy applications in 2015's last quarter, the processing and hence the issuance of IDs would be delayed.  So there was no guarantee that I would have verifiable coverage in the form of an ID card or ID number in time.  Even if my coverage officially took effect on January 1st, without the identifying information, it was as if I had no coverage.

On around December 30th or 31st, still having received no "official" word on the new policy, we went ahead and paid the January premium for the  crappy, MD-Anderson-is-out-of-network HMO policy, just to make sure I had SOME sort of health insurance in the month of January.  Let's face it, in my crappy state of health, a crappy policy is better than no policy.  Am I right?

Soooo, last week, while I awaited my chemotherapy appointment in the MDA infusion center's waiting room, (already a week late because the previous week's infusion had been cancelled due to low platelets) I was called in to a conference room by a "financial clearance associate" to discuss health insurance issues.  I was told that a "waiver" had been applied for, but MD Anderson was unaware that 2 separate waivers were required:  one for the facility and one for the physician.  The facility's waiver had been approved by the insurance company, but the physician's waiver application was still pending.  The associate then presented me with an estimate of the cost of the day's treatment, which totaled over $17,000, and requested that I acknowledge and sign the estimate, in case the physician's waiver was not approved.  Since I'm honest and know that I do not have the means to pay this amount of money, I declined to sign it and decided to forgo the day's scheduled treatment.  :(

 

The "waivers" we were discussing, I found out, were the HMO's attempt at working with MDA for patients like me in the midst of active cancer treatment.  They made MD Anderson "in network" for a set amount of time, even though they're actually not in network.  Still, what I really wanted was documentation of my new policy which wouldn't require the waivers in the first place.

 

Am I explaining this well?  Or is your head spinning just reading this??

To make a long story short (hahaha) ...
The very next day after being booted out of MDA (yea, that's what I'm going with,) I was able to obtain a temporary insurance identification card for my new PPO group policy.  I had some difficulty getting this new information through to the insurance department at MDA, but finally, FINALLY all is taken care of (I think) and I'm scheduled for my next chemo on Thursday.  I have only missed a week due to the insurance fiasco.  I say "only a week" but it feels like longer when it's my life that's at stake.  Supposedly, the insurance has been verified and I am good to go.  Fingers crossed!

Recovering from ... the holidays!

Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas!  Yesterday we basically just sat around, catching some rest after a VERY busy Christmas.  We enjoyed having family in town and then the extended family over for Christmas dinner, but whew(!), lotta work to get the house in order, gather groceries and supplies, and serve the big meal.  As late as just a couple of days before the arrival of guests, we actually still had boxes stacked in the dining room of the new house!

It's amazing how having people over can motivate you to get the house tidied up and clean.  I'm sad to admit that most of the remaining boxes were simply moved to the garage attic.  Temporarily, that is.  That's the plan, anyways!  Said boxes hold home décor items that have yet to be put up.  I just don't feel comfortable hanging things and decorating until the new furniture and rugs are in place.  That won't happen until the other house is sold.  Yes, the old house is still out there, hanging over us like a dark cloud and under us like a money pit.  Dang, the buyers these days are demanding!  It's under contract (for the 3rd or 4th time) and we are due to close on January 21st.  Seems so far away!!!  And I can't help but think that it's more time for something to go wrong.  SO ready to be done with it!

Overall I'm doing well, and I'm really thankful for the energy I've had to accomplish what I have.  Ironically, however, I don't look as healthy on paper.  Last week my blood counts (H&H) were lower than ever, and they recommended that I receive a blood transfusion.  I said "No thanks."  Who has time for that on the week of Christmas?  Not me.  Also, my platelets were dangerously low (17, normal range is 140-400.)  I'm having everything re-checked this week to see if anything has improved.  If the counts haven't improved adequately, I will get 2 units of blood, and possibly platelets, as well, on Thursday.  I may or may not get chemo on Wednesday depending on my labs.  The last time I had to get blood was last May.  At that time, I was experiencing shortness of breath with only the slightest exertion.  This improved dramatically after the transfusion.  Right now, I'm not having that, even though the numbers are actually worse than in May.  Who knows why that is exactly.  I can only speculate that I have less visible cancer and a lesser tumor burden than before, so I'm able to tolerate the anemia better now.  The only thing I've noticed is that my legs feel "heavy" when I try to walk fast or far.  It's an odd feeling.  It's not soreness, and it doesn't even feel like I've worked out too hard (which is a wayyy distant memory now that you brought it up).  The best way I have to describe it is that I feel like my legs just don't have the power to move me at any kind of clip.  Which makes complete sense, because what my blood is lacking is oxygen carrying capacity.  So, slow it is!  Works for me.  I can still drive and be supermom and superhost, and even go for short walks on the greenbelts in our neighborhood.  Can't complain!

I continue to gain weight, which I have to admit is starting to bother me a little.  Enough, already!  I've been eating whatever I want and however much I want for quite some time now, sooooo ... that might be why I'm heavier!  As you probably already know, I love to eat.  I may have to make some changes.  Ummm, I'll have to think about that some more. Maybe later.  Like, for the new year.  Yea, that's it, a New Year's Resolultion.  Possibly  :)

In early December, I had my every-3-month CT scans of the chest, abdomen, and pelvis, which showed slight growth in some areas, stability in others.  Could be worse, could be better.  I could tell some things were changing.  A little cough coming back, the positional nature of the coughing, and I don't know perhaps just a gut feeling that the chemo isn't working as well as it did initially.  I no longer feel "great," only "really good."  Then again, when I did feel great, it was in relation to the "awful" that I experienced for several months earlier this year.  So maybe it's that.  Anyhoo ... sticking with the same treatment until the cancer's growth is more significant than slight.  My tumor markers are slowly climbing, so evidently something is happening.  Treatment only gets changed if the cancer's change is greater than 20%, OR if the side effects of the chemo are too severe or intolerable.  Dr. Coscio says that she is beginning to look into what my next options will be.  To prepare for the eventual inevitable.  She doesn't say it like that ... she is much more professional than that, but I get it.

Hey, guess what!?  Last week, I GOT A HAIRCUT!  AND highlights!  Geaux me!!!  It had been over 3 YEARS since my last haircut.  Wow!  Yea, it wasn't that long, but I needed a shape-up, for sure.  Sooooo happy.  Love it.  I've been using shampoo for a while now, but today I even bought hairspray.  Fancy schmancy!  It's the little things, people, it's the little things.  Appreciate them.

Here are some pics from our family's Christmas.  Enjoy.

Christmas in the new house.  LOVE Christmas!

Me & my mom.

Me & my dad.

Love this one of me & Christa & Bethany.

Christa, Bethany, David & Me.



The gang on Christmas Day.  Me, hubby, 4 kids, 6 grandkids, parents, parents-in-law, bro-and-sis-in-law, aunt, nephew, niece, & nephew-in-law

Me & my three girls:  Christa, Bethany & Shea.

Happy Thanksgiving!

For many, this time of year is a time of reflection.  It's easy to get complacent and just truck on through life.  We complain about the little things, because we are spoiled by the incredible blessings of home, health and family that many of us enjoy but don't truly appreciate.

Here's my short and simple piece of advice:  At least once during this Thanksgiving week, pause to really think about all you have.  Then give thanks.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!!!

31 Days of Pink Ribbon Selfies!

Day 31!!!  The October pink ribbon selfie project has reached its end!  I probably sound too excited about that, don't I?  I've enjoyed it, but honestly, it was more work than I thought it'd be!

Today I napped, which is unusual for me (at least for the more healthier, recent me.)  We did not have a peaceful night's sleep last night because of the heavy rain that fell all night long, AND our phones kept alerting us of the Flash Flood Warnings for our area.  I want to know these things, but maybe not several times in the middle of the night, right??  Anyway, our little street flooded this morning, so we were forced to stay home and take it easy for much of today.  By the afternoon, the rain had stopped and our Halloween plans could proceed.

Our only Halloween plans were to go watch the KHS Drumline perform at a community event, and to take David to a friend's party.  Afterwards, Danny and I found ourselves alone and we took the opportunity to go on an impromptu dinner "date."  It was a nice evening, THEN we EVEN went to the grocery store ... yep!  We are wild ones, alright.

Here we are back at the house, just hanging out until it was time to go and get the kids.

 

Today's pink ribbon item of the day is a blingy little something I picked up at Kohl's a couple of years ago as part of one of their "Kohl's Cares" promotions.  A hot pink grosgrain ribbon with an eclectic mix of jewels affixed to the front.  Also, notice that Danny is wearing his "K" hat out of love and support for me!  Some people may think it stands for Kingwood (where we live) or even Kingwood High School, but I like to joke that the K is for Kim.

 

Since it's Halloween, and it's the last day of this October Project that I casually started 30 days ago, here are a couple of bonus pics, taken tonight in our kitchen.  You know I can't ever get an acceptable selfie in one shot!

 

 

I want to thank all of you who have stuck with me on this 31-day journey!  Good days, bad days, bad hair days, busy days, at home, out, at The Pink Ribbon Shop, alone and with all of my peeps, I tried to share more of me here than I ever have before.  I appreciate your support, positive vibes and comments!

 

 

And no, although it sounds like it, I am not saying goodbye for good, but I do intend to take a little time off from blogging after an intense 31 days straight.  :)



Day 30 - Lesson Learned

Sooooo tired!  Love our KM4B, but one thing I learned this evening was that I should NOT volunteer to chaperone to a football game just two days after getting chemo.  Way too soon!  My dinner wasn't going down well, and the bus ride didn't agree with me.  Thankfully, once we got there and off the bus, I did begin to feel better.  Another plus:  it didn't rain!  Glad I had my warm rain jacket anyway though, because it was super windy and downright chilly at times.

Here's me and Bethany at the game:

 

 

And here's my pink ribbon-wear for the night:



So ready for bed!  I'm sore all over.  Goodnight!!!