Saturday, December 30, 2023

let this year end

In with 2024

My New Year's goals for 2023 were to spend quality time with my family, finish some key writing projects, level up at work, and purchase a new TV couch. Six weeks into the new year, I discovered a lump in my breast during a regular self-check, and I had a prescient moment of clarity—without any factual support at that point—when I knew none of those goals would happen this year. 

I've had that same feeling before: April 1995. It's a feeling like a sharp slap in the face when I knew nothing would ever be the same. I wasn't wrong. Either time.

Which is why I'm looking forward to 2024 with hope and optimism for what's ahead and gratitude for the opportunity to live it. 

Treatment Update or How Are You Doing?


Baby tennis ball hair!

I hear myself telling people that I'm definitely feeling better but still feeling bad. It seems to be the most honest answer. 

Since the final big-bad infusion of chemotherapy (10/27/23), I continue to get the Phesgo shot every three weeks. This is the targeted HER2 anti-cancer immunotherapy drugs injected into my thigh. This shot has always been included with the earlier chemotherapy infusions, and the Oncologist wants to continue this part of my treatment into July 2024, for a total of 18 of these treatments. So far, so good. 

I also started radiation treatment after a (brief) six weeks of recovery from the final chemo infusion. The full plan is a daily series, Monday-Friday, excluding holidays (Christmas and New Years), for a total of 20 treatments. As of today, I have completed 16 of the 20. The target  has been a broad scope of the left breast and corresponding lymph nodes. The final four treatments will be a narrow target of the incision area where the original tumor was removed. 

Side effects of radiation are minimal. I have not experienced any surface tissue damage or irritation so far (knock on all the wood of the world). Fatigue and mild stomach and intestinal irritation persist, but I can't tell if those are remnants from the big-bad chemo drug (Taxotere), ongoing Phesgo shots, or from the radiation. 

Celebrating Healing and the Holidays


The worst of the chemo side-effects are fading, some faster than others. My hair is coming back! My fingernails are growing. Taste and smell are returning slowly, and coffee is lovely again. The muscle pain from that last round of chemo still remains, and the neuropathy is also slow to go. I remain optimistic. 

Thanksgiving arrived, and the kids made dinner for us (except Rick did the turkey and the gravy). All of the food was delicious. Christmas arrived, and luckily I'd had enough foresight to have done most of my holiday shopping back in July. So I did some last minute online shopping, and our celebrations were mostly stress-free. 

Big News in Healing: we went out. Mid-December, I felt well enough to risk a two-hour drive, and we spent two nights away from home on the Oregon coast. We rented a beach house overlooking Depoe Bay, ordered food in or made it ourselves, watched whales, the ocean, big winter storms, fishing boats and the rain, and we never left the house all weekend. It's the first traveling of the year that wasn't to/from a hospital. Our last big adventure out was last Christmas (2022) in Utah. 

Wow, it's been a long year. 

Celebrating Us


My seasonal holiday-card (pantry) door is covered top-to-bottom with cards and postcards and notes, holiday and/or otherwise. I hear your kind words of encouragement and love. Thank you!

Each of you has made a difference throughout this unexpected challenge, and I appreciate every big/little thing that connects me to you. 

I'm celebrating each of you as this long, hard year turns over to the new one. Here's to us all!

~ Sherri



talking about

how might I hold
my beholden out to you

and you hold yours out to me, 
how do we be holding each other,

                                            ~ Ross Gay, from Be Holding, a poem

Saturday, November 4, 2023

ring the bell

10/27/23 Final Infusion
Friday, October 27, I rang the bell to celebrate the final chemotherapy infusion of my treatment plan. The whole team cheered, and I may not appear super excited, but behind the mask, I'm stoked. 

Post-infusion Plans

I've told more than one person that we've figured out how to survive the worst of it just in time for the end. Isn't that how it works? My sister Debbie flew in as the final support team. I had an open order for IV fluids to prevent the dangerous blood-pressure drops, meals planned, and white-cell booster shots scheduled. Of course, nothing ever really goes as planned. 

Survival Week

You know what they say about "the best-laid plans of mice and men...." The week started out slow and gradually tipped into all the regular symptoms (see previous posts for details), with some nuance. Merissa was exposed to Covid at work, so we had to pivot our plans for team support at the end of the week, as well as to adjust a family contingency to attend Merissa's fire academy graduation. Some change-of-season symptoms had us all masking up at one point. Ultimately, nobody got sick—knock on all the woods and all that.

To complicate everything, the new "surprise side effect" showed up by day 5: IV fluid retention. What was supposed to be helpful started causing problems. By the end of the week, Rick took me in to my final appointment for fluids, and we declined them. The Oncologist thought the new retention issue was more problematic than pushing oral fluids. I'd already made it through one night of low-low blood pressure (77/61) pushing KinderLyte and Salt Stick tablets without a crisis or an ER visit. So we checked out without any treatment on Friday. 

Let the Healing Begin

What I learned from that extra 4th week between Infusion 5 and 6 was that my body would start healing sooner than later. My skin began to heal, stomach settled, appetite increased, my hair started growing again, and even my taste started to recover—I had two days of normal-tasting coffee for the first time in five months! Infusion 6 immediately crashed all that progress, but I remain optimistic for the near future and the promise of a good cup of coffee. 

The Out-of-Work Elephant

Let's talk about my job. Officially, my role has been "eliminated" as part of a larger company-wide layoff, and I guess the way around my protected medical leave is to make my return-to-work date also my last day of employment. I have started the search for an attorney to manage the next steps. Until now, my priority has been to survive the last cycle of chemotherapy. 

Truthfully, I am not a huge fan of this job-loss scenario. I've never been "let go" from a job before, and it's baffling even without all the cancer-medical-leave complications. Best case for me would still be to go back to my job as Senior Technical Writer in three weeks. All the Survival Weeks put together should have landed me at work on Monday 11/27 with a full pre-medical-leave plan already completed and a full back-to-work plan ready to launch. 

The most tragic (ironic?) part of this is where I am let go from my job while out on protected medical leave for breast cancer treatment during Breast Cancer Awareness month. (Cue Alanis Morissette) Even if it's all legal, it's a super shitty thing to do to anyone. 

You can help if you've experienced a layoff. Email me your thoughts and experiences through the link up there in the top right corner of this blog. ↗️

You've Already Helped

Thank you, each and every one of you. You've given me so much. I've received your love, gifts, support, prayers, donations, phone calls, messages, emails, cards, stories, jokes, books, letters, and kindness. You are dear to me in ways I could never have anticipated. I can only hope to be able to return the support in kind whenever and wherever I am able. 

Thank you for being part of my life. You are seen, appreciated, and loved. To quote one of my heroes, "without this, there is nought." ❤️

Onward!

Sherri

fierce love to you

 

 I wished a way might be
 My Heart to subdivide—
 ‘Twould magnify— the Gratitude—
 And not reduce— the Gold—

  ~ Emily Dickinson, from "without this— there is nought"

Monday, October 23, 2023

5th round slog and delays

Infusion 5 #f@ckcancer (middle finger up)
My apologies for the delays in getting this post out into the world. #5 was a difficult round, more than any previous infusion cycle. My system feels strained. As usual, there are new symptoms that have popped up in addition to all the previous symptoms. 

The list goes on. . . . 

New Side Effects

Round 5 Infusion added fluid retention in my face, including numbness and swelling. The Oncologist has confirmed that my lungs are clear, and I have only minimal retention and swelling in my ankles and legs. I am reminded to make good use of those compression socks, push fluids and electrolytes. 

The mystery heart arrhythmias that have shown up in the last three infusions prove to be solved by increasing those electrolytes. In fact, the Cardiologist says, "Double everything." It seems to work!

As well, I am having increased muscle twitching and spasms, including in my core and under my ribs. The intensity of the spasms caused my Cardiologist to cross-check previous ultrasounds and that CT scan from the ER a few rounds back to rule out an abdominal aortic aneurysm (which sounds terrible). Good news! He reports that is not what I have. Instead, I get reactive muscle spasms Docs seem to think it are primarily in my diaphragm and core. It feels like a startled bird embedded under my sternum. Yay, me.

My fingernails are still a hot mess. Same with the weeping and twitching eyes, bloody nose, sensitive gut, and fatigue. Along with the worst of the responses in the first ten days after the infusion.

Things that Help

All those Electrolytes: they address the heart arrhythmias, low blood pressure, and dehydration issues. I've tried a bunch of different kinds, and landed on a few I like, mostly for less sodium less sugar. Here's what I've been using: 

  • Salt Stick capsules - good balance of potassium, magnesium, and sodium; easy capsule dose; no sugar
  • Salt Stick Fastchews - minimal potassium, magnesium, sodium; immediate release into system via chewable tablets (they are kind of like Sweet Tarts)
  • Vali Electrolyte Salts - more potassium and less sodium than Salt Stick; easy capsule dose; no sugar
  • Nature Made Potassium Gluconate - when you just need more potassium; 1 tablet per day
  • DripDrop Electrolyte Powder - good balance of potassium, magnesium, and sodium; less sugar than other powder options; add to 8-12 oz water 
  • KinderLyte Medical Grade Electrolyte Solution - premixed electrolyte drink like Pedialyte with less sugar; use alone or add to smoothies
IV Fluids: the Oncologist made an open order for IV fluids to be administered at either of the infusion centers (at either of the hospitals nearby). These are most easily added to my Granix shots (the white blood cell boosters) given to me for five days after the primary infusion. I can also schedule an infusion appointment for fluids by themselves. After Infusion #5, I did IV fluids on days 5, 6, 7 and 8—all of them helpful and, in retrospect, necessary to stabilize me during those first difficult days. 

Drink Water
: The goal is 96 oz of water/fluids each day, excluding those days
when I get IV fluids (I need less on those days). I track intake using an awesome 32 oz water bottle, and most days, I get close or make the goal. Early days are more difficult because my entire system is slowed and compromised by the chemo drugs that attack the sensitive cells in the the mouth, throat, stomach, and intestinal linings.

Small Meals: My compromised systems cannot digest food very well either. The solution is to eat six to seven times during the day, each time about 1/4 of an actual meal. Anything more or faster than that is impossible to eat and/or digest.

Naps: The fatigue is REAL, and I have to ignore the overachiever in my head that tells me to push through it. Naps are good.

Exercise: It hasn't been that long ago that I was running 3-5 miles a day, and now I'm barely able to cycle (indoor) a few slow miles or do a handful of body-weight movements (yoga and/or other options). I haven't been stable enough to walk outside by myself, so I am limited to indoor activities. Anything helps. But also there are days when I cannot exercise, and on those days, I get a pass. I'd love to say I'm able to exercise every day, but that is not the case—there are definitely impossible days when I'm simply grateful to make the walk between the bedroom, living room couch, and bathroom. 

You: Thank you for your cards, letters, Facebook messages, texts, phone calls, gifts, prayers, love, encouragement, and support. ALL of it helps. 

What's Next

Last Friday was scheduled for Infusion #6; however, after meeting with the Oncologist, we decided it would be best to delay my final infusion for one week. My bloodwork indicated low red and white cell counts, and my overall well-being was also low. Doc said we could push through as scheduled only because it was the last one, but it would be brutal. My choice. I debated for about 30 seconds on that and made the call to wait. 

I feel like it was the right call. I'm already (3 days later) feeling slightly better, but still not as well as I've been prior to earlier infusions. Everyone warned me that each treatment would be harder and each recovery longer. They were all correct. 

Infusion #6 is scheduled for this Friday, October 27. I'll do bloodwork the day before, but unless it is off the chart detrimental, it won't change the infusion plan at this point. Of course, we all hope that my levels show progress from last week.

As well, the Oncologist will be reducing the dosage of the Taxotere (the chemo infusion drugs responsible for the most challenging side effects) by another 10%. It was reduced the first time for Infusion #3, which makes the overall dose now at 80%. At this point in the treatment, it doesn't compromise my chances for success or overall effectiveness of the treatment. 

Even with the extra week and the dose adjustment, I anticipate a difficult last round. It's still a systemic poisoning. But I'm all in. I want this crazy toxic thing to be over. I can't do the next thing until I get through this one, including the whole I-got-let-go-during-medical-leave-for-breast-cancer-treatment during Breast Cancer Awareness Month. But I'm still working on that on all fronts, so it has to wait for another post. 

What You Can Do

Send me Your Words - keep up those calls, texts, messages, letters, cards, emails. Click on the email link at the top right of this blog for my email or to ask for my mailing address. 

Contribute to the Cancer Support Fund - your contributions give dollars to my primary support team for gas, coffee, and travel expenses for those people who give of their own time to come take care of me for a week and/or are running my errands and driving me to appointments. Current balance is $2.00 after Infusion #5. Click on that same email link above to request my Venmo info and or mailing address. 

Gift via the Amazon registry: Hoffman Chemotherapy Support

Send Prayers and Good Healing Energy: Thanks! I need that. 

Donate to the National Breast Cancer Foundation: this month (October) is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and every dollar toward research helps the next person with breast cancer. I'm grateful for all that research that helps me now.  

My deepest gratitude to each and every one of you who not only supports me, but also Rick and each of my family members and friends who are doing the bulk of the work to care for me. Thanks for being a part of our journey. 

Onward!

Sherri






Friday, September 29, 2023

Infusion #5

 Hi everyone, 


This morning Sherri received her 5th infusion. Based on her blood work prior to her 4th infusion we were not hopeful that her doctors would allow her to continue with treatment as planned today. We were expecting this to get pushed out an additional week to allow her body to continue to rest and produce the necessary platelets and blood cells. To all our surprise, her bloodwork came back with positive results and she was given the greenlight to continue as planned. 

Unfortunately she came home after the infusion today extremely exhausted. The brain fog is strong and the symptoms are already hitting. We jokingly discussed that is to be expected after spending a day filling your body full of toxins. She asked me to jump on and give a quick update: to let everyone know she made it through another round and she is so thankful for all the heartfelt reach outs she has received today. Please continue to send your love and good thoughts, but know her and Rick's emotion bandwidth and communication is pretty limited right now. 

The family took on additional stress this this week as we found out Sherri was let go from her job. I think that will be a post for a different day. 

We all have heavy boots, but continue to take things day by day. 

Send all your love and know as she will return calls and messages once things stabilize a bit. If you are ever wanting a more active update, you are always welcome to connect with me directly. If you do not have my phone number, you can connect with me via facebook. 


- Becca Young-Fahrenschon