Despite a glorious 14-lb weight loss since starting diuretics, my condition seems to change hourly. By the time I think of writing, the prevailing side effect is replaced by some other concern. Nothing as bad as the 2-week toothache or last week’s meltdown, but nonetheless keeping me from normal activity.Itching continues (my “biting ant syndrome”) and is bad enough to wake me in the night. Sleep still eludes me. Last night I had stabbing pain in one eye. The chemo-burned veins on the back of my hand that had been healed have decided to flare again. My eyes are mattering and tearing. My nose bleeds. My fingertips are tender and tingling. I have small cold sores in the corners of my mouth. The anemia still has me struggling with stairs – and while the weather beckons me to go for a walk, I’m afraid I may not make it back. I miss grocery shopping, but am too stubborn to use an electric cart.
Still, hope is on the way. I saw my oncologist yesterday in followup after the hospital. He wasn’t surprised when I said I was finished with chemo (I did 5 of 6), so we talked about treatments yet to come.
Another blood draw prompted a second injection for red blood cell production for anemia. He called my itching “eczema” and told me to use moisturizer; he wrote a prescription for corticosteroid cream, warning it may irritate my skin because of my current hypersensitivity – so I’m reluctant to try it. He said the itching is likely to continue for six months or more. Just call me Job.
He talked me into continuing Herceptin for now. This is the antibody I’ve already been getting along with chemo. Continuing means IV infusion every three weeks until August. He claims it’s highly effective in eliminating recurrence of my HER2/neu cancer cells. Supposedly it has few side effects (other than possible continued hair loss), so we shall see.
Continuing Herceptin brings up the issue of my veins cooperating with IV placement and fear of a PICC line or “port.” The PICC line is about a foot of tubing up the vein with the open end held in place by tape between infusions. It is often annoying and vulnerable because it’s in the crook of the elbow where there is a nice big vein. A port, on the other hand, would be surgically placed. While more convenient, port placement runs the risk of infection and complication. I am hoping Herceptin is as innocuous as promised and that having an IV every three weeks rather than every two weeks will give my veins more chance to recuperate and cooperate and thus avoid PICC lines and ports.
I need to make the radiation decision, to begin as soon as I commit. This is five days a week for six weeks. The common side effect is fatigue, which in many cases continues for a year after treatment. With my history of bad luck and fatigue, I am of course wary. The radiation oncologist wants to proceed because although my margins were clear after the second mastectomy, they were narrow; cancer cells may still be lurking in the nearby chest wall. I am in process of contacting women who’ve had radiation for breast cancer to learn about their experiences.
My cancer is also hormone-receptive, so treatment requires oral hormones to begin when I’m ready – and continue indefinitely. Because there are three different brands, Doc says surely we can find one that doesn’t give me intolerable side effects. He would like me to try these, at the very least. My low tolerance for drugs tells me my trial may be short-lived, but I’m willing to give it a whirl once I regain strength.
These decisions are difficult; I’ve lost a bit of faith in medical expertise and my body yearns for a chance to heal on its own. I am not so fearful of having a short life as I am of having it continually compromised by treatment-induced side effects.
