Jess's Life, Now With a Teensy Bit of Cancer Talk

Love Story

Tonight, I thought I’d take a break from the somewhat regularly scheduled cancer whining/crying/bitching to share some wonderful news. On January 22,2012, Will Sparks asked me to be his wife…and I told him I’d have to think about it. JUST KIDDING!!!! Of course I said YES (once I stopped crying, that is). 

Will and I first met almost exactly one year ago, on January 13, 2011. I’ll confess that we met online (OKCupid, if you’re curious) and I was ready for a decent guy. Whoever said that you have to kiss a lot of frogs to get to the handsome prince was no dumbass. Will and I had swapped a few e-mails, and he seemed like a quality guy. I worked that day, so I gave the world’s fastest report and then sped home to change and be ready for 8 pm. We hit it off immediately—I think he was impressed that I mentioned Cupertino, CA in the first 10 minutes of our date—and ended the evening with an AMAZING kiss. Or two.  

At the time, Will was living in Decatur, about an hour and a half north of my home in Birmingham, and he began driving down here to see me about once or twice a week. It was great! We had a TON in common, owing to shared DC and Virginia connections. Plus, I just really enjoyed getting to know him. Will is so smart and funny, and he always makes me think. He has so many varied interests (cooking! computer programming! cycling! beekeeping!) that I feel like I’ve got to stay on my toes to keep up with him. 

Gradually, things turned serious. I knew pretty soon that, barring an unforeseen revelation that he’d been married 5 times, Will was probably The One. I’ve never met someone who accepts me 100% as the big goofus I am, and who also takes such a genuine interest in me.

Over the summer, we started talking about possible future plans. All in round terms, as Will had a tendency to freak out slightly if the W word was discussed. We decided that I should get a job in Huntsville and that we would get a house together. We were feeling really fortunate that I got the first job for which I interviewed, and that we found a cute and affordable house. 

Right after I got the job, I found a weird lump in my right breast. If you’re reading this blog, you know how all of that turned out. Will has been so incredibly steadfast through all of the cancer foolishness. After I was diagnosed, I had no idea what his reaction would be. Would he hit the road? Would he stick around, but act like taking care of me was an imposition for which he didn’t sign up? I remember standing by a window, talking to him immediately after I was diagnosed. He immediately came to see me that night, and I hoped he’d stick around, but who knew? 

Luckily, none of that has been true. Will has stuck with me through everything—days when I can’t get off the couch, nights when I’m barfing at 2 am, you name it. He’s a constant presence at my doctor’s appointments so I won’t be alone. I never in a million years imagined this is how I’d spend the latter part of our first year together, but I’m so incredibly fortunate to have him by my side. I truly know that I have someone on whom I can rely and trust. 

Right after Christmas, we started talking about rings. My mom had my grandmother’s engagement ring, minus the center stone. As luck would have it, Will had a family diamond that fit into the setting perfectly. Like I’m not kidding- it was a perfect match.

When discussing the proposal, I just told him I wanted to be surprised. I was working on a Sunday and he told me he’d be in Huntsville all day. He wound up sneaking down to Alabaster to my work and proposing at the nurses’ station! When I first saw him walking in the hallway I thought I was seeing things. Then I saw the red roses and ring box and knew what was going on and my coworkers had to get me a chair because I almost collapsed.

I’m excited (and a little nervous) to start the wedding planning. But honestly? I’m way more excited about the marriage.

I’m Still Here

A lot has been going on here in Cancer Land lately. I haven’t blogged about it because (a) I’ve been busy and (b) when I haven’t been busy I’ve felt like hell. A brief timeline is listed below:

• December 19: last study chemo treatment. YAY!!!
• Week of Christmas: In Montgomery recovering and celebrating.
• Christmas Day: Open presents in Montgomery and then head to Decatur to Christmas dinner. Had a wonderful time with the extended families.
• Dec. 26: Become the proud semi-permanent borrowers of a queen-sized bed from our friends Tim and Lara. It is HEAVENLY!!!! We call it an ocean of bed. To be able to stretch out without elbowing Will in the head is luxurious.
• Dec. 28: Breast biopsy #4 (if you’re scoring at home) and breast MRI #2. The breast MRI is the single-worst test I have ever taken. One has to dangle one’s boobs into a boob-shaped contraption and then lie face-down in a metal tube for 30 minutes while you listen to a cacophony of banging. Awful. Thankfully, they gave me Ativan before the procedure so I felt just peachy.
• I pretty much hung around Huntsville for the next few days. You can’t lift or pull anything for a few days after a biopsy per MD order, so work was out of the question. I got to enjoy feeling at least like a temporary citizen of Huntsville.
• Jan. 3: The AC regimen starts. Before I went back for infusion, I had to meet with the patient educator because I was getting new drugs. One of the drugs I’m getting, Adriamycin, is known as “the red devil” because it is red in color and is rather toxic. I typically don’t tell healthcare people I’m a nurse unless they ask, because it can invite all sorts of drama. I did tell her I’m a nurse because I’d already had 12 chemo treatments and this was a waste of my time. Anyway, this chick told me to think of adriamycin as “strawberry Kool-Aid.” Is she fucking kidding me?!?!?! Does she think I”m 5 years old? Lady, I’m well aware that I will feel like shit because of this. Don’t patronize me so I’ll think differently. Sheesh.
• Jan. 3, five minutes after my chemo infusion is done:  I feel like I am going to barf. This is not good news. I threw up twice over the 12 weeks of the study. Am I going to spend the next 8 weeks retching my guts out? I pop a Zofran and pray for the best. We find a Target bag in the car in case of emergency.
• Jan. 3, after getting back to Huntsville: No barfing in the car. Whew.
• Jan. 4, 2 am: I am barfing my guts up. Forgive me if that’s too much information.

It pretty much lasted this way for 2 1/2 more days. I subsisted off of Sprite and Wheat Thins until Friday at dinner, when I was able to eat cheese sticks from Pizza Hut. It was awful. I haven’t been this sick since my senior year at Ole Miss, when I had mono and a stomach virus at the same time. 

I was starting to feel human again and was even starting to consider working until Wednesday, when I started to run a fever of 101.5. Yikes a rooney! I went to see Dr. Shah, my oncologist in Decatur. She ordered antibiotics and fluids for me. I left feeling a lot better. When I relayed the news to Dr. Forero, my oncologist at UAB, he said I couldn’t work because my blood counts were too low. *insert sad trombone here* I was feeling much better and, quite frankly, I need the money, but being around sick people with an ANC of 300 and a while count of 1.3 is not a good idea.

Since one’s ANC must be 1,000 to get chemo, we were all certain I wouldn’t be able to get treated yesterday. Surprise! My ANC was 1.008 so I got treated. Dr. Forero changed my meds so I feel a lot better. I feel like a grandma as I know have to take morning and evening pills (pre-cancer, all I took was a vitamin, when I remembered it). Oh well. At least I feel better now.

Halfway done with the AC treatments and only 2 chemo treatments left FOREVER!!!!!!!

Forward Progress

On Monday, Will and I met with my oncologist, Dr. Forero. It was a brief visit (Dr. Forero was on his way out of town) but I learned that he definitely does want me to have the standard breast cancer chemo drugs adriamycin and cytoxan, better known as AC. Sigh. I was really, really hoping that I’d be able to weasel out of getting AC somehow. No such luck, at least not yet. I’m still holding out hope that Dr. Forero might hit his head and change his mind. I’ve seen no evidence thus far that he’ll change his mind, as he’s mentioned getting AC after the study since I started treatment. A girl can dream, right?

Assuming all goes forward as planned (ha!), I’ll be done with the study chemo on December 19. On December 28, I’ll have another breast MRI and biopsy. I’ve already stocked up on Ativan for the MRI. I think a breast MRI is the most unpleasant diagnostic test in existence. You lie face down and dangle your boobs into a machine that squeezes you through a coffin-sized tube and then makes loud creaky noises until the test is done. Awful.

Allegedly, I start the 2nd round of chemo on January 3. I haven’t seen any proof of this in print yet, so I’ll believe it when I see it. If all goes as planned, I’ll also have treatments on January 16, 30, and February 13. Surgery follows in 2-3 weeks…just what kind of surgery I’ll be having is an open question. I’ve always thought I’d want a lumpectomy so that the girls stay mostly intact, I don’t have a huge scar or drainage tubes, etc. However, I’m starting to ponder mastectomies too. The pictures on the Internet aren’t as scary as you’d think—there have been GREAT strides in making manufactured boobies look real. Also, I’m WAY past over dealing with all of this, I am not planning on doing this ever again ever, and I can’t decide if chopping them off would give me additional peace of mind regarding possible recurrences. 

I have a ginormous list of questions for Dr. Forero’s nurse this week (Cheryl, I apologize in advance) but hopefully I’ll get answers soon. Life continues to be on hold, but I’m starting to see a pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel.

Attitude Adjustments

Apologies for being MIA for the past few weeks. My blood counts are back up (thanks, Neupogen!) so I’ve been busy with work and treatment. I also have obtained a cold from Will…the gift that keeps on giving. I’ve been stuffy/coughing/laryngitis-y for a week and a half now. Ugh.

About three weeks ago, I met with another doctor up in Huntsville—Dr. Shah. She was actually recommended to me by my doctor at UAB as a possible point of contact here. After going without treatment for two weeks, I was starting to drive myself crazy. I kept second-guessing my treatment decisions, and I wondered if the rush to make a decision quickly might have been to my detriment. Not to mention the fact that I will do just about anything to weasel out of getting an additional second round of chemo.

Dr. Shah was great! She told me a few things that were news to me. Some stuff was genuinely new, and other stuff went over my head when I heard it the first time. What can I say…I was a little overwhelmed.

I was most upset about having possibly made the wrong decision about chemo. Not that the treatment isn’t working (thankfully, it is) but I want it all to be over ASAP. I was worried that the standard chemo treatment would be shorter than the research study treatment I’ve chose. Perhaps it’s shortsighted to choose speed over efficacy, but I’m over this. At any rate, Dr. Shah said that that’s not an issue. The standard chemo treatment takes either 16 or 24 weeks. My treatment, even with the 2nd round, would take a max of 20 weeks. 

Also, she mentioned that one of the drugs I’m getting on the study (Abraxane) has fewer side effects than taxol, the standard drug. With taxol, one can have neuropathies in the hands and feet that might never go away. I’ve been lucky to avoid those side effects all together with Abraxane.

Perhaps most importantly, Dr. Shah told me that if the cancer comes back and has spread, I’ll be on treatment for the rest of my life. Will came to the appointment with me and interpreted that statement to mean that I’d get treatment for the rest of my life because I wouldn’t live that long. I was pretty much dead set against getting the 2nd round of chemo before I heard that. But now, if they recommend it I’ll begrudgingly go along with it. I want to live but I want my life to return to some semblance of normalcy sooner rather than later. I also don’t want to deal with this shit again. Once is plenty. 

That’s where it stands now. As always, things can change here at a moment’s notice!!!

Postcards from a Chemo Vacay

It’s now been almost three weeks since my last chemo treatment. Why, you ask? Well, my white blood cell count has been so low that my already depleted system was declining the offer of additional chemicals. My ANC (absolute neutrophil count, for those of you scoring/Googling at home) has been 542 last week and 600 this week. To get treatment, it needs to be above 1,000 and they’d prefer that it be above 1,500. As you can see, I’m more than a teense off.

At first, the chemo vacay was a BLAST. I could eat what I want again without repercussions. My food repertoire was not limited to brown foods!!! It was delightful. Add my increased energy and the fact that I really felt like my old self—it was great.

This week, the bloom is a bit off the rose. Sure, it feels great to eat like a regular person and not feel like hot holy hell, but I know that it won’t last. I still have six more weeks of chemo to go. The original date of my last treatment was December 5th, and now it’s December 19th. Knowing that I still have six weeks of awful to go after two weeks of decency is depressing.

I cannot possibly emphasize enough how ready I am for all of this to be over. I’m sick of all of it. I hate that I don’t get to see Will because I have to drive to Birmingham to go to work. Don’t get me wrong, I love both my job and my coworkers, but it’s impossible to feel settled in Huntsville if I’m only there when I feel terrible. It’s hard to make a good impression when meeting new people when you’d rather be in your pajamas on the couch. 

I’m also really quite over all of the waiting I have to do at The Kirklin Clinic. Honestly, if I had known how long it takes to mix up my chemo drugs before I started, I might have passed on doing the research study. I spend my entire Monday loitering in the UAB infusion therapy suite. It’s a waste of time. From lab work to waiting on the results to waiting for drugs to get mixed to waiting to get treated…it takes FOREVER. And then I get to drive back to Huntsville after that!

For these (and many other) reasons, I’m hoping my treatment will not involve the additional course of chemo my doctor has hinted will occur after my time with the study has concluded. I have had ENOUGH. I’m ready to get on with my life, and it will be perpetually on hold until all of this is over. This may sound incredibly foolish (and even reckless), but I’d rather be done with treatment sooner now and deal with a recurrence later. I’ve given that notion A TON of thought (if you know me, you know I overanalyze everything) and come to the conclusion that I’d be much better equipped to handle this down the road.

Several people have given me some wonderful compliments, saying that they see that I have a lot of strength. I am really glad I have them fooled. While I don’t sob myself to sleep every night, it’s definitely not easy constantly wondering if things will turn out all right. Somehow I wish that there could be one day where I don’t think about cancer at all, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon. 

The Joy of Brown Food

Excuse me for a moment as I bask in the glow of a delicious dinner. I had Chipotle, and IT WAS GLORIOUS. 

Perhaps I should explain that this was more than just a meal (although really, does it get any better than the chips and guac? I say no). After chemo, I can barely walk to the bathroom, much less eat much. Food doesn’t sound appealing. One could offer me anything in the world, and I would turn it down. This is a new emotion for me, as I’m typically just about the biggest pig anywhere. With a cast iron stomach, to boot! Thus, the notion of not being able to eat anything, anywhere is a bit foreign to me.

Typically, after chemo, my diet resembles that of an extremely picky five-year-old. My favorite post-chemo foods are bagels, PB&J sandwiches, and chicken tenders. Depending on my mood, I’ll also eat the odd potato chip or French fry. Not a fruit or vegetable to be found. If it’s brown and made of carbs, I’ll eat it. 

It feels very weird, and kind of makes me sad, to have conversations like this:

Will: I’m meeting my family for Mexican tonight. Would you like to go?

Me: No, thanks. My tummy hurts.

Or this:

Will: What should I make for dinner tonight? How about a delicious gumbo or some chicken and dumplings?

Me: Will you hate me if I say I’d rather have something made by the good people at Jif?

I love Mexican food (it’s actually my favorite), gumbo, and chicken and dumplings. They just don’t sound very good after chemo. I have chemo on Mondays, so by Thursday morning I can broaden my culinary horizons to include (brown) cereal. I might be able to eat something resembling real food on Friday for lunch. I’m just never sure how my stomach will feel. I don’t get sick, it just hurts.

That’s why tonight’s chicken burrito bowl was such a victory. Not only did it sound good, but my stomach was happy too. These events are few and far between these days. I’ll take victories anywhere I can get them!

P.S. You may be wondering if all of this food pickiness and assorted chemo-related discomfort is resulting in any weight loss. That is a BIG FAT NO. Right after I was diagnosed I said the only thing I was looking forward to was the possibility of chemo-reated weight loss. That hasn’t happened at all, and I’m a little pissed off about it. If I have to go through all of this, the least my body can do is shed some weight as a thank you. No such luck. I’m still holding out hope that perhaps, in a few months, radiation will case some weight loss…

Cancer is Boring

First of all, let’s do a happy dance because my first 6 chemo treatments are complete, meaning I’m now halfway done with chemo!!! December 5th can’t get here soon enough!

Posting has been light as of late, mostly because not much is really going on. It turns out that, once the drama of diagnosis and choosing a treatment option has ended, having cancer is really quite boring. I thought I might post what a typical week is like in Cancer Land. As y’all probably know, I’m really quite nosy, so I thought I’d write about what I’d want to read about if one of my friends has cancer. 

Monday: Chemo. It sounds worse than it is. It’s a day filled with sitting around waiting for not much to happen. Once it’s over, I typically have this weird full feeling because I’ve been pumped full of fluid. I can be hungry and still feel full. Odd. I typically don’t start feeling bad until Tuesday.

Tuesday: The worst day. I spend all day sleeping and in my pi’s. Sometimes I want to eat, sometimes I don’t. Typically, the only things that sound good to eat are carb-filled. Bagels and PB&J sound tastiest. But mostly, I sleep.

Wednesday: Wednesday can be a real mixed bag. Either I feel somewhat ok or I feel awful. Yesterday, I felt like I was about to barf all day long. Also, my hands and feet starting itching, but I don’t have a rash. Weird. I decided to take some Benadryl and sleep. Sleep is your friend when you have cancer.

Thursday: Usually I feel better on Thursday. I can leave the house and try to expand my culinary horizons. I don’t really like to go out, though. I’ve never been a wallflower, but wearing scarves is a pain and I’m over it already. My head has developed this weird rash, so it’s just not fun all around. 

Friday: On Friday, I drive to Birmingham so I can work on the weekend. The best part is getting to see and spend time with my awesome demi-roomies Frances and Ashley!

Saturday and Sunday: Work. Eat. Shower. Sleep. Love that I get to see my Shelby family :)

That’s really it. It’s a big yawn, when you think of it. Lots of naps broken up by occasional trips to the grocery store and $400 shots (Neupogen is expensive!). And Will is AMAZING through all of it. So lucky to have him! I couldn’t ask for a better nurse :)

Working Girl

On Saturday, I walked all 5K of the Birmingham Race for the Cure with my colleagues at Shelby as a team—Trotting for the Ta Tas. We had an amazing time and I feel so incredibly lucky to work with such wonderful people. I’m fortunate to call them coworkers, and blessed to call them friends. Saturday really felt like a big hug all day long!!! I really can’t express how grateful I am to have such a fantastic work family. But as you can see, getting to such a happy place in my career was a long time coming!

When I was choosing a college, I picked Ole Miss because I thought Oxford looked like a fun town and I thought I’d have a blast. It was, and I did, but my reasons had zero to do with academic reputation, career plans, etc. I figured I’d just wing it.

By the time the spring semester of my sophomore year rolled around, I’d had 4 majors in 4 semesters (undecided, political science, business, and journalism, if you’re scoring at home). I wound up sticking with journalism and French because I had some great professors I really loved, but it wasn’t anything I was thrilled to pursue. I spent 2 fun and stress-filled years working at The Daily Mississippian (The DM) but I never thought I’d work for The New York Times, much less as an AP stringer in Tupelo. 

I graduated in May 2001 without a real career plan. I was supposed to intern in Washington, DC. for my Congressman and then go to Provence to be a teaching assistant in a French high school for 7 months. I’d intern in July and leave for France in September. I fell in love with DC during my internship and made plans to return after my sojourn to France.

We all know what happened on September 11, 2001. Thus, I never went to France. Do I regret it? After all, in hindsight, I probably could’ve gone over there without a problem. Personally, I don’t believe in regrets. I believe that everything happens for a reason. I met some of the best friends of my entire life in DC. I learned that I could live on my own in a big city and thrive. That’s huge! I treasure my independence, and I appreciate that I can make it on my own.

While I was making friends and learning my way around DC, I muddled my way through a bunch of jobs that were neither long-lasting nor particularly entertaining or thought-provoking. The best of the lot was a job I had working for the Air Force’s celebration of the Centennial of Flight. We had a great office that worked well together, did a lot of great work, and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. Of course, the Centennial year lasted for only one year (2003), so at the end of it, we all went our separate ways.

In the fall of 2005, I started a job as a communications consultant that sounded great on paper but was hell in practice. My boss was short (can you say Napoleon complex?), played favorites, and asked for your opinion, only to show that he was genuinely uninterested in hearing it. It was awful. Being around a bunch of ass-kissers every day is just depressing. The good thing is, those of us who weren’t favored bonded together and I’m still very close friends with one of those folks today (that person may appreciate anonymity. I, on the other hand, have changed careers and I stopped giving a shit a long time ago. I’d never ask Small Fry for a reference, anyway).

In the summer of 2007, I was in New Orleans for a work meeting. As most of you know, I was born in New Orleans and my dad’s whole family is from there. We took the “Katrina tour” spotlighting the areas hit by the hurricane. I was affected in a really surprising way. I found myself searching within myself to see what I could do to help. I wanted to put myself in a possibly uncomfortable position so I would be better equipped to help others. I really did a lot of soul searching. I was already unhappy in my job (duh) and I knew that life is entirely too short to spend it being miserable. 

After a lot of thought, I decided to become a nurse. I was scared—not of changing careers but of taking the science courses required as prereqs for nursing school. I avoided all of that like the plague when I was drinking my way all over Oxford. But to my immense surprise, not only did I perform well in the classroom, I genuinely enjoyed the subject matter. I felt a bit like I was living a secret double life because I’d leave my consulting job to go to Anatomy class at night. Eventually, I did clue in a few trusted coworkers. They especially enjoyed my paper bag puppet show on Universal Health Care for my Biomedical Ethics class.

After getting accepted to UAB and enduring a year of hot holy hell at the hands of the School of Nursing overlords (that is a topic for another post), I started precepting at Shelby Baptist Medical Center in August 2010. I Instantly felt at home. Everyone at Shelby was incredibly kind and generous with their time. No one minded answering my newbie nurse questions. It seemed like everyone worked well as a team. When I was offered a job upon finishing school, I jumped at the chance

Choosing to work at Shelby is the single best decision I’ve ever made, career-wise, and one of the best decisions I’ver made, generally speaking. I feel so fortunate to work with such a great team. My boss, Susan, is amazing—far and away the best boss I’ve ever had. She’s incredibly kind, encouraging, and fair. She works so hard for us that we respond in kind. 

My coworkers are each fantastic. They’ve been so supportive of my cancer journey and just really encouraging. In particular, Candace is a former oncology/chemo nurse and I’ve peppered her with questions about my treatment. Really, everyone had just been so thoughtful—I know I’ll never repay their kindness!!

I’m so grateful to nursing for showing me that not only is it possible to have a career that is enriching and fulfilling, but it’s possible to work in a warm environment with wonderful people. I’ve never once regretted my career change, and I look forward to continuing onward in the years to come as an NP!

In case you were wondering why I love Will, there are of course many reasons. The pic above pretty much says it all. Gotta love a head shaving party for two! To say I’m lucky to have him is an understatement. 

Today’s update comes to you live from The Kirklin Clinic chemo suite, as I get my treatment and shed all over my laptop. I had a PET/CT scan yesterday, and the pic you see is the report. My tumor is decreasing in size after only two treatments! YAY!!!! Dr. Forero stopped by the chemo suite to give me a hug and tell me personally. I can feel the tumor and I thought it was getting smaller but now I have proof. It’s really gratifying to know that all of the effort has been worth it. I think I shall celebrate with a Longchamp tote bag I’ve been eyeing so I can schlep my stuff between Huntsville and Bham in style :)