I suppose I ought to update about my progress every so often, or are you all Facebook friends?
Abraxane is a wonderful chemo, other than that hair loss stuff. I haven't felt sick from it at all, and I'm on my third 3-week cycle (I go once a week for 3 weeks, then get a week off). My resistence to illness is either quite low, or the monthly exgeva shot I get for my bones upsets my stomach. I was violently ill for 24 hours the day after the first treatment of cycle two, and I'm not feeling well today. The only common bond is the shot, which, ow, it hurts anyway!
As I did mention, I had to get off the Xeloda because it stopped working. My tumor markers increased nearly 100 points over a few months (from 55 to 138), I got a new lump, inexplicable bumps on my head, blinding nerve pain in my legs, and some other issues I probably jotted down somewhere. Dr. Fox was optimistic about the Abraxane working because I generally respond well to chemo, and most people respond well to this one.
I get my tumor markers checked at the first treatment of every cycle, and get the results at the second treatment. That second week is when someone needs to be with me at Penn, so I don't accidentally ram my car into that stupid pole again (what a dumb place for a pole, anyway). After the first cycle, my markers dropped from 138 to 96! Great news! This month, my markers are down to, drumroll, 65! Woohoo! Can I please go into remission? Please, please, pretty please?
Not only that, but I still haven't taken any Advil at all. That little lump is gone, as well as the painful bumps on my head. Simply put, I don't feel like a cancer patient. I do miss the tastebuds on my tongue, but whatever (side effect to most chemos). I told Dr. Fox I'm ready to have a vacation from cancer and he laughed. I have to find out what that means. What happens if my tumor markers drop to nothing and a CT scan shows no cancer at all in my liver? What happens if the Abraxane kicks out every one of the bad cells? Can I go off chemo? Will I not need cancer treatment? Will I miss hearing about several of Tamica's weekends (I love her, she's the phlebotomist)? Will I not see the fashion patient with the long blond wig and the platform heels? Can I skip those nasty $50 copays three times a month? Man, what I wouldn't give to find out! I came so close once before, should I even breathe this here?
NED means no evidence of disease. If I can ever announce that I have NED, you'll hear it. You'll all hear it! Whew. Deep breath. Slow down, Me. This is what feeling good does to a cancer patient.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
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