On Nov. 13th, I had an appt for a PET Scan & then on Nov. 20th, an MRI. Yesterday, I had an appointment to go over the results of them. It appears that the cancer is currently contained to the cervix, and is not attached to the ligament like Dr. Scalici (pronounced Scuh-Lee-See) was concerned about. However, there is a spot on one of my lymph nodes that "lit up" in the tests, so she's going to be watching that. At this time, it's still undetermined if the cancer is a stage 1B2 or a 2A because now it depends on that dang lymph node spot.
I had to have another biopsy done. This makes the 5th one they've done on my cervix. How many pieces can they cut off before none is left? The biopsy itself isn't even the worst part, it's the peanut butter stuff they cake up inside you to stop the bleeding it causes. She calls it the peanut butter stuff because that's exactly what it looks like, but when it comes out of you, it's clumpy, grainy, and black like coffee grounds. So gross.
Then we talked more about treatment. I'll be on a very agressive, brutal treatment plan.
Their words, not mine.
CHEMO: I'll do 5-7 weeks of it, (specifically, Cisplatin) once a week. This will be done every Tuesday. Even though the chemo itself will only take 45 minutes to an hour, these appointments will be about 6 hours long due to everything else that goes along with chemo. There's labwork to check my white blood cell count and determine my dosage for the day. Then I wait for them to get it ready. In the meantime, I get a bag of IV fluids to help hydrate me and prevent headaches. Then the chemo itself, and then another bag of IV fluids. Somewhere along the way, I'll also get anti-nausea meds in my IV, as well as a steroid to prevent me from throwing up, because apparently this chemo drug they're putting me on it bad enough to make me very sick, according to her. After chemo is over, I go downstairs to radiation.
RADIATION: I'll get external radiation for 5 weeks on a daily basis, Monday through Friday. How nice to have weekends off, ha. I am not sure yet how long this process takes. That will be explained to me in detail by Dr. Outlaw since she is the one who will be administering the radiation treatments.
Once that's over, I'll have to do 2 weeks of Brachytherapy (pronounced Brake-E-therapy).
I will be honest and admit that I am slightly terrified of this. When I was doing all of my research on treatments, I read about this one and how awful it was, and hoped my doctor wouldn't mention this. But, here we are. Brachytherapy is internal radiation. They'll insert metal rods into the vagina and they'll touch the tumor and administer radiation directly into it. I read that it is very painful. Unfortunately, Dr. Scalici confirmed this. Anyway once the rods are inserted, they'll do a CT scan to make sure they're exactly in the right place, then blast the tumor. I'll have two weeks of this treatment. The first week will be a Mon, Wed, Friday treatment, then the next week will be a Mon & Weds treatment. Absolutely NOT looking forward to this.
I was talked to about chest ports, picc lines, and IVs. They think the picc line is best for me. I'd already figured this considering all the research I've done, so now I have to find a cute picc sleeve to wear because I know my clingy little princess will accidentally yank it out of my arm trying to snuggle or play with me. I also have to order a special shower sleeve since it can't get wet. And the costs keep adding up.
I was recommended to get a flu shot, and to avoid anyone and everyone who is sick since my immune system will be compromised. Even the slightest sickness on my part will prevent me from being able to get treatment and will delay the process.
Dr. Scalici wants me to to participate in a clinical trial for Immunotherapy. She told me a little about it, and then had the research director, Daisy, come in and give me the details. There aren't any crazy side effects and they do the treatments on chemo day, so that part isn't so bad. But the other parts won't be so fun. It involves a lot more blood-drawing, and three more biopsies - two of which will be extreme enough that I'll have to be put to sleep. I don't get paid for any of this, but they cover the extra testing, as well as the trial drugs they give me. Kris isn't happy about it. He says I am not a guinea pig, and no, I'm not... but I have two daughters, and a lot of female friends. But most importantly, two daughters who could get cervical cancer someday and if this trial can help find something that can heal cancer faster like they think it can, then I am participating. Worst case scenario, it doesn't work. But at least I can say I tried. So needless to say, I agreed and did the 17 pages of paperwork on it.
Lastly, I received my appointment to meet with Dr. Outlaw on Dec. 1st and was informed that once you see her, you move at lightning speed because she likes to start treatment within a week. I'm not looking forward to it, because I am scared. I didn't want any of this. I wanted to have surgery and be done. But that's not an option, so now I'm ready to get this over with.
Finally, sometime after 4pm, I got to go home. I'd been there since 10:45am. I was exhausted mentally and physically, and laid there last night in bed with my head spinning in a million directions, just thinking of how this is about to be my life. Long, long days just to get up and do it all over again the next day, and the next day, and so on for the next 7 weeks. I'm already stressing over someone having to take care of Zoey every day, the kids being home alone after school for however long, and who is going to deal with the dog while I'm there. I can't drive myself to chemo due to the nausea and stuff, so they said someone needs to drive me. Definitely stressing over the bills. Holy hell, the bills. We JUST THIS WEEK finally paid off the deductible, only to have it turn around and start over in January. Kris is working overtime as much as possible to help keep our heads up as good as we can, so he can't be with me and he's stressing about that.
Overall, I'm trying to stay positive. I know this cancer isn't going to kill me. But my God, this stress possibly will.
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