I'm In Pain
Even though the Taxol portion of my chemotherapy ended two Fridays ago, the last few treatments of Taxol took quite a toll on my body, especially on my fingers and toes. It still feels like the drug is working from the inside out, scraping away at my insides and has finally reached the nerve endings just below the surface of my skin in my fingers and toes. Without pain meds (or when they’re wearing off), it feels like pins are sticking into the tips of my fingers and toes and underneath my fingernails, and because of this each time I inadvertently hit my hand or foot against a hard surface, the sharp pain that follows stops me cold.
Compounding this is that my fingers aren’t as nimble as I’m accustomed. In addition to being painful, they’re also swollen. When it comes to untying a knot on the drawstring of my pants (definitely a problem when I am in urgent need of the facilities), buttoning or even using a pen or pencil is more of an effort than usual. I never realized, until lately, how I’ve taken for granted all the things my fingers have afforded me. The same goes for my toes. I gave up a pair of my running shoes and replaced them with a pair a half size bigger in order to continue walking on a regular basis. Some of my other close-toe shoes are also out of commission until after chemo is complete. My toes are just too sensitive (and swollen) to be rubbing against the end of certain shoes.
Given that my body feels like it’s been through the wringer, I’ve slowed down as a result of the side effects of Taxol. It’s frustrating, sometimes to the point of tears, when I feel unable to do what I’ve normally done as quickly and efficiently as before all of this. And quite honestly, the tears fell more often this past week as time drew nearer to beginning my new regime of chemotherapy.
I started feeling more scared and anxious about starting the FEC treatment (originally set to start this past Friday) because I know that this combination of drugs (Fluorouracil, Epirubicin and Cyclophosphamide) will likely produce side effects that are the same but more significant than Taxol’s side effects. I am afraid that I will be even less able to move about and participate in my life as I am accustomed, and I'm scared to think I'll feel really sick.
So it didn’t help to hear, during my appointment with Dr. Cristofanilli this past Thursday, that my first FEC treatment would be delayed a week. Dr. C explained that my white blood cell counts were below the normal range as a result of the Taxol chemotherapy, and he felt it better to give my body a chance to replenish its supply of white blood cells before beginning FEC treatment.
As much as I am feeling anxious about starting the second three months of my chemotherapy, I had really hoped, even expected, that there would be no interruption in my treatment. I felt really proud of “sailing” through my first twelve weeks of chemo. I have done my part in being careful about not jeopardizing my health. I’ve been thoughtful about my diet, about exercise, about hand washing, about enclosed spaces with lots of people... all in an effort to stay as healthy as possible. But even so, here I am depleted and delayed. If anything, this further confirms my anxiety about FEC, and now I’ve got another week to think about, wonder and fret about starting this new chemotherapy.
Of course, I know that I will make my way through FEC (and the rest of my treatments still to come). I will conjure up inner strength that will carry me through any additional discomfort I might feel over the few months. I will continue to move through this experience as best as I can.
Love to all, Lisa
-MESSAGES-
Thinking of you today... I called your house when I left school today, and I was glad to hear you were resting. In the midst of getting all those schedules together, I was thinking about you. I'm so sorry that your next round of chemo has been put off for another week. I know you are thinking the sooner you start then the sooner you can get it over with. As I read your update today, I couldn't help but think #1 What an inspiration you are to me #2 How much I take for granted. It bugs me when my foot falls asleep (and the rest of me hasn't!), so to hear you describe the effects of taxol is something my brain can't wrap itself around. #3 The most important thing I thought of as I read your update is the note you got with the scarf that one day. This is where my global thinking will help your detailed thinking...Keep your eye on the prize...being cancer free! I know you can do this! You are a strong, resourceful person. You have a great support system around you, and we are all just a phone call away!
Wisconsin rainy Sunday Hi Lee: Just want to say "HI". Getting some much needed rain up here. Hope things go well for you in the coming weeks. Take care. Love, A. J.
wading through mud I remember being a child and wading through the shallows of my uncle's lake during a drought. I was surprised at how deep I sank and how difficult it was to make my way from point A to B. I was all of eight and wasn't supposed to be there on my own but difficult as it was it never occurred to me to turn back. This was not rising to a challenge but rather a child's inability to process consequences and I could have been stuck, quite literally. It is also the reason why children climb trees; because, like the mountain, these exist and having that uncanny strength of childhood they can.
Being an adult one needs a good reason to pull naked feet out of the sucking mud of a lake floor or to suddenly climb that old maple in the backyard; the one with inadequate limbs and weeping sap. Understanding the consequences that relate to a goal defines one's cognitive ability and you achieve this. But you go farther and do what you have to because it is necessary and you endure the pain and temporary disabilities because these are part of the cure and this, Lisa, defines bravery. You have the spirit of a child and the sense of an adult and this makes those who love you very proud.
hang in there Lisa You should still be very proud of getting through the first 12 weeks of your treatment. Try and think of your body gaining more strength to deal with this next round. We're still cheering you on with pompoms. I saw your mom and dad this weekend. I am in Wisconsin for a few days. I saw your mom at the jewelry party and went on a bike ride with your dad and my dad this morning. They are both so proud of you. -K.
Have courage N. and I can't even begin to imagine what you are going through, except you describe it so poignantly. Hang tough; you are tough, and you'll beat this thing.
You are Amazing!! I don't know how you did all you did today with such enthusiasm. You are incredible. Thanks for motivating us all. Sincerely, C.