All,
Yesterday was my first experience at the Cambridge Day Clinic and meeting Dr. Chouinard, my new oncologist. He took a great deal of time with me, going over my file and history and doing a physical exam. He seems quite happy with my response to treatment thus far, specifically the reduction in my CEA tumor markers. He did seem a little surprised at how small my original tumor was, considering that it metastasized so quickly. Bah. I don't like thinking about that. Makes me crazy. I am down two pounds, but that isn't surprising considering I have had the flu for the past week. The good news is that my blood work looks really good - better than it has since this all started. And it was funny to see the doctor and nurse's reaction to the fact that my port is in my arm as opposed to my chest (something I've come to learn that they only seem to do in Sk) - he was concerned that it might hurt. Funny - after all I've been through and he's worried that my port hurts me, when in fact it hurts my feelings more than anything because it is so damn ugly and makes me look a little like Frankenstein.
I was feeling so good yesterday afternoon that I decided to do a little ab workout - felt pretty good about myself. UNTIL about 2 hours later when I started experiencing SEVERE upper abdominal pain - the likes of which I have not experienced since my surgery and I was staring to think something was really wrong. It truly felt like my liver was about to explode...I think I scared Tim a little, especially when I went out to the deck to cry so the kids wouldn't see me. (Big Baby.) And NO, I do not think I "pulled something" during my workout. Luckily I was able to sleep and it has subsided quite a lot since I woke up, so I have decided just to chalk it up as "one of those things."
So tomorrow is Chemo #18 - yikes. I would be lying if I didn't say I am getting tired of the treatments and the side effects, but it is what it is. I am waiting to hear the date of my next CT Scan, likely the third week of September and am hoping with everything in me that the tumors are still shrinking. I don't know how I will react the day that I hear that the tumors have become resistant to the chemo and we have to move onto another type of treatment, but I will cross that bridge when we come to it.
I am hoping that I am not too tired after my day at the hospital because we have the kids this weekend and are planning on going for supper at Mom and Pops Bender's house tomorrow night. I hate being a dud, so I plan to spend the afternoon sleeping. We bought the entire family fishing rods yesterday, with the hopes of throwing a few casts this weekend , but it looks like rain is in the forecast so Tim and I are thinking of taking the kids to the Butterfly Conservatory and maybe do a bit of shopping.
Hi Barb! It must be quite interesting to see how things operate a little differently in a different province and clinic. Arm ports are weird? That's weird. And how weird is it to think arm ports are NORMAL?! Only for we cansered folk, I'll bet.
ReplyDeleteOdd about your unusual freaky abdominal pain. I remember, too, experiencing so many strange aches and pains during chemo (and beyond) that all would freak me out a little. But eventually strange aches and pains become part of the chemo patient's reality, I think, and we learn to just shrug and wonder. I hated that, too. The wondering and then making myself NOT wonder. I'm happy to report that in life beyond chemo those bizarre and inexplicable aches and pains slowly subside. Hang in there.
Good luck with Chemo #18. Yikes, is right! Know that your fan club is cheering and hoping right along with you, Barb.