Rule #1 - Cardio

Sorry, I couldn’t resist. It’s been 4 months since I’ve been on my bike, and I was aching to get out. Today was a great day to hit the Legacy Trail. Fifty-degree weather, bug & reptile free path, and minimal traffic made for perfect conditions.

Rule #2 - The Double Tap

Today was a 2nd drip of Etoposide this week. I just gave marla The Double Tap! (Thank you, my good friend, for pointing out that marla does not deserve capitalization.) I'm starting to feel like a chemical wasteland.
So far, so good, there have been no side effects from the treatments this week. Ok, a little nausea, but very minor and easily remedied. Oh yeah, and my hair is still falling out. My fine follicle friend’s days are numbered.
My blood is still not thin enough, so continued Lovenox shots throughout the weekend. Don’t think I’m that brave; I have yet to give myself a single shot. I love having connections in the medical field!



Lunch of champions.



I'll be wearing this long after treatment is over.
Thanks Nic!

My Martian Child

This was the first day that I've felt broken, and not only in the physical sense. This crap can really do a number to your head, if you let it. I started off so strong, and not quite a month into treatment, I didn't think the side effects would catch up to me so quick. Overnight, I got the wobble legs from the mother-of-all-things-evil, Prednisone. It's difficult to explain, but they feel like they could give out from under me at any moment, yet they're full of nervous energy. I bruise easy, my hair is falling out, still a little swollen on the left side of things, and I no longer have the same energy level as before; they have all become frustrating. Actually, having to admit weakness to myself is what's frustrating.

This afternoon I was crying, having a "this deal sucks" moment, when my 3 year old son jumped up on the bed. He scampered right up beside me and said, "Mom, you so beautiful and I love you hair." I kept crying, but now for an entirely different reason. How do these little angels know exactly what to say and when you need to hear it most? Thanks buddy, mental attitude back in check.




Sometimes we forget that children have just arrived on the earth. They are a little like aliens coming into being as bundles of energy and pure potential. Here on some kind of exploratory mission..and they're just trying to learn what it means to be human. -Martian Child-

Meds du jour

EMEND =
PROCHLORPER =

ACYCLOVIR =

BACTRIM =

FLUCONAZOLE =

PREDNISONE =

COUMADIN=

LOVENOX = A giant pain in the ass &
TRAMADOL =
LORAZEPAM =

Pins & Needles

Last weeks treatment went rather smooth. I had a few aches that night & a low grade fever, both were gone by morning. I've developed some tingling in my fingertips, a typical side effect. All things considered, I've felt great.

Yesterday, I noticed my left hand & arm were slightly swollen and my underarm still tender (I blamed that on the botched PICC line attempt), I didn't think too much of it. Today the swelling increased and after my hand turned a lovely shade of Grimace, I called my doctor. An ultrasound was ordered to check for possible blood clots. Enter blood clots, stage left subclavian, brachial, and cephalic veins. Congrats Marla, you've managed to add 2 more prescriptions to my daily routine. The show now features blood thinner Coumadin and 1 shot, twice daily of Lovenox. Go ahead, ask me how excited I am to give myself a shot in the gut twice a day for the next week.

Round 2 - success in progress

My 2nd dose of Chemotherapy. Meds du jour were Bleomycin and Vincristine. Both interfere with cell division, thus causing it's death. That's right Marla, get used to it.







Both come with their own stunning possible side effects, numbness/tingling/burning in the hands & feet, constipation, loss of appetite, sores in mouth, fever, chills, nausea, and my personal favorite, hair loss. None of which have been experienced...yet. Although, my taste buds seemed to have abandoned me and makes eating extremely boring.



Most likely I'll run a low-grade fever tonight from the Bleo. Yeah that's right, we can talk like we're good friends with this stuff. We're going to be, by the time this is over.

Good News for the day: Treatment is obviously working. My pulse has come down to 92 (previously 132 on a bad day) and I can breathe a hell of a lot easier. Trachea, feel free to regain your space. Blood counts show some numbers are 1/2 of what they were last week, but those are the effects of the treatment, it's progress, and they'll be monitored.

**Before I forget, should the Vincristine accidentally leak out from my vein, it may damage tissue and cause scarring. Don't try to be a hero and wipe it up, I'll just call my nurse.










Han getting his bath.

I feel like I'm forgetting something.

Thanks Kia. This was the easy part. The next one, not so much.

Insomniacs Unite

I can only imagine that this is what a meth user feels like. Two days following my introduction to chemotherapy, I slept like a babe. Literally, I would sleep for hours and at all times of the day & night. This was largely due to the anti-nausea medication I had to take during those two days. Subsequently, as the meds have left me throughout the week, so has sleep.

At the present moment, I have enough cravings to bake Martha Stewart to her grave, energy to work in the yard (albeit the temperature is slightly forbidding) to create a project that puts P. Allen Smith to shame, and the ambition to clean my house from top to bottom if it weren't for the sleeping house elves.

Not to worry, sleep will come, in about another hour or so. Until then, I may raid the fridge, see who has yet to change their privacy settings on Facebook (admit it, you've done it too), or look out my window and wonder what you are dreaming about.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

But I love my family & friends more.

For those of you keeping score at home...

First day of chemo, check. Consumption of meds that follow, check. Fatigue setting in, check.

In a sick way, I was a little excited for today. It was nice to get things going and well on my path to the destruction of Marla. The treatment itself was simple, I sat in a recliner and was waited on hand & foot for a few hours.

Part of Team Stanford V. Welcome aboard boys, now let's see what you've got.

It wasn't until 4:00 this afternoon that fatigue really set in, and it was quick. I'm very tired, but overall, I'm doing really well. Having said that, goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Today's score:

Rachelle - 1 Marla - 0

Rebel Scum

Today’s procedure was the placement of a PICC line in my arm. A PICC line is a long, slender catheter that reaches a large vessel in the upper body. This will allow for the, Oh so lovely & caustic, chemotherapy to be delivered without obliterating all the small vessels in my arms at the same time.

Sounds easy enough and it probably is for most. The mere mention of her imminent destruction sends Marla into a fit. She fights back. After having copious amounts of Lidocaine applied to my arm, ipod turned up loud, I thought this would go quick. Why? Why Rachelle, do you do this yourself?

After several minutes passed, I asked the nice 7’ burly man in scrubs, “Should I be feeling this much pressure in my arm?” he replied by asking, “Is it pain?”
Fine! Make me say it, “Yes, now it is pain, you nugget!” My nerves are shot to hell, I have a meat thermometer sticking out of my arm and I made the HUGE mistake of looking at it, I’ve sweat ½ my body weight in the past 10 minutes, I’ve noticed that you’ve brought in another person to stand there and look at me on the table, and now I’m bawling like my 3 year old when he can’t find his Thomas the Tank Engine toy. Marla has put enough pressure & displacement on the vessels left of my heart that it was too difficult to feed the line to where it needed to go. Right arm, your turn!

Here come the reinforcements. Thanks to a husband with a good cell phone, and modern medical breakthroughs, such as fast acting drugs like Lorazepam, I was able to calm down, get back up on the table and have my right arm prepped for the same thing. Thankfully, this time, it only took a few minutes with some mild discomfort and a lot less squirming from me.

Now life continues with my new appendage, Han.

Things will never be the same again.

With only a month into 2010, it has already proved to be one of my most life-altering years. Early fall of 2009, I noticed my heart seemed to beat a little faster than normal. I figured I was just out of shape or a little stressed and brushed it off, thinking it will go away soon. Several months passed and it didn’t go away, but rather became more noticeable to the point of being able to see my heartbeat through my shirt. I was taking my pulse by sight, and at 102 beats per minute, I became more concerned. After following the advice of a tremendous friend, to whom I will forever be indebted, I made an appointment to see my doctor. I, otherwise, would have put this off probably another few months or so.

My physical exam did not produce anything truly alarming. I had great cholesterol levels and blood pressure. No outward signs or symptoms of any problems and above all, I had felt great, better than I had in years. The blood work showed a border high thyroid level. This could possibly explain the tachycardia I was experiencing.

Week of January 19-22
The following tests were ordered:
- Stress test/EKG, ultra-sound of my heart, and a chest x-ray.
These were to rule out heart disease. Results of the chest x-ray showed a considerably large size mass, possibly an enlarged thyroid.

Further tests same week
- Thyroid scan
- CAT scan of chest
Results showed my thyroid was functioning and processing as normal. The mass would now require a biopsy, as it appeared to be a malignant tumor, Lymphoma in nature.

Thursday January 28
-Biopsy performed on lymph node, left side of my neck.
This really pissed off Marla, because she immediately started to fight back. After a 20 minute procedure under general anesthesia, recovery took all day. Sending my body temperature to the low 90’s, low oxygen levels and a racing pulse of 109 for most of the day, it was a night in the hospital for observation.

Tuesday February 2
Consultation with the Oncologist.
Confirmation of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. As much as you try to prepare yourself for the actual uttering of the words, “You have --insert name of devastating disease here--“…I don’t think it’s humanly possible to do so.

Pending further test results, my treatment will begin in one week. Chemotherapy once a week for 3 months following by Radiation.

HERE’S THE GOOD NEWS:
This disease is highly treatable and can be cured.
If tests indicate the disease is gone following treatment, and it has not come back in the next 5 years, it won’t come back again.

Staging Process
These tests will indicate the stage of the disease. Currently, I appear to have Stage 2. That includes the large mass in my chest & up to the lymph node in my neck. If it has spread below the diaphragm, Stage 3. Existing in bone marrow, Stage 4.

Thursday February 4
Bone marrow biopsy.

Friday February 5
PET scan. Injected with radioactive isotopes, this scan indicates the location of the infected cells.

So….now what?

I can’t thank my family, friends, and neighbors enough for their unconditional love, generous support, and countless offers to help.
THANK YOU – THANK YOU – THANK YOU!
Next week I’ll have a few more tests, ball up my fists, and get ready to knock this thing to the ground.

Meet Marla.

Let me introduce to you my tumor, Marla and her sidekick, Little Bro. Marla is a mediastinal mass, meaning that she is located behind my sternum and between my lungs. Measuring about 10 cm x 10.5 cm x 13.8 cm, that's roughly equivilant to 4 x 5 inches.

Little bro is located in the lymph node on the left side of my neck.