Love Liverwurst !

Liverwurst did the job! Lots of liverwurst and steak and B-12 and spinach and asparagus! My blood work was ‘gold star’ quality again – no more sign of anemia! Meaning I was able to receive my sixth and final chemo poisoning on schedule on Tuesday!!!

The four bags of stuff dripped in just fine, as usual, and next, on Wednesday, was the last shot from hell (the Neulasta). I guess I really shouldn’t bitch about that shot, because it does its intended job – keeping my immune system functioning well and kicking butt – BUT that’s what it really did to me - kick butt.

This last shot beat me up as badly as the fifth session – ran me over and left me for dead. I can’t believe how much it takes out of me. Again I slept for most of the last three days, hurting and aching so much all over that it was an effort just to get up to pee. And nothing helps alleviate the condition at all. But I’m healthy, so I’ll stop complaining! Especially since I don’t have to have another one!!!

I’ve been lucky to have yet another old gal pal here to help me thru this episode – and again am amazed and grateful and thankful for the incredible support I’ve received from my circle of friends!! They have kept me upbeat and positive on the down days, and I wouldn’t have wanted to face it without them! Makes all those sweet silly emails about hanging on to girlfriends worth forwarding on again and again as a reminder as to how very special our old and new friends are!!

All that’s left for me in this ‘get well’ regime is 11 more sessions of Herceptin, the biological drug (as opposed to chemical) to beat down the HER2+ cancer growth – the estrogen protein positive cells that want to burst into being more cancer. As a refresher course on HER2+ cancer, what exactly is HER2+ breast cancer? Well, cells do three things: they grow, they rest, and they repair themselves. Genes inside the chromosomes in your cells regulate their activity, telling them when to grow, and when to stop growing and rest. If the genes malfunction, the patterns of growth/rest/repair are disrupted.

In HER2+ breast cancer, there’s an excess of HER2 genes in the chromosomes of some of your cells. These genes tell the cells to grow extra protein receptors on their surface. With these extra receptors, the cells keep getting signals to grow, rather than to rest or repair. They grow much faster than the cells around them; this wild, uncontrolled growth turns them into cancer cells. HER2+ cancer is a very aggressive form of the disease.

HER2+ isn't uncommon; about 25-30% of women diagnosed with invasive breast cancer have this type.

And 'all that's left' is kind of a casual description, since the listed side-effects of Herceptin are just as frightening as those for regular chemotherapy, but since I haven't had any apparent problems, I'm choosing to assume I won't start now!

Plus a daily pill, forever, of an aromatase inhibitor, or hormone therapy, Femara, or one of its able assistants, which is designed to destroy any estrogen producing substance in me. Actually, it is officially used along with the Herceptin to control the hormone receptive cells. (Does this mean I lose all femininity? No one wants to really answer that one.) What it does offer is hot flashes (as if I don't have enough of those already), fatigue and muscle and joint pain (oh goody), weight gain and swelling in my hands and feet (not good news at all!!). And of course the loss of all the wonderful benefits of Estrogen in us old bats - but again, no one wants to discuss that stuff. I guess they think we're too old to care about how we look and feel as women??

First I need to get another EKG, to make sure all these breast cancer toxins haven’t damaged the heart muscle, which is scheduled for next week. I’m crossing my fingers on that one, because I really do feel great, considering all my bitching. This hasn’t been anywhere near as bad as I anticipated – although I’m not sure I’d go thru it again, if I knew then what I know now.

The lymphedema continues to make me crazy. I have arranged another series of appointments to drain my hand and arm of the built-up fluids, so I can wear the disgusting compression sleeve every day. Whoopee! I’ve finally convinced myself that I have no option. The swelling in my hand is the most distressing. I haven’t the control I would like – not sure I have a good grip on a glass (and that’s a major concern when I have a glass of champagne!), it has a constant little shake (at least I now have an excuse for my lousy handwriting), and my fingers don’t pick up things they have in the past because they don’t close together like they should. We’ll just have to see how this treatment session goes!

Remember to eat your liverwurst!