I got my four-year mammogram and ultrasound yesterday, so it’s now official. I’m still free of cancer and have been for four years. Hurray. And a great relief. I don’t normally give cancer recurrence a lot of thought until a few weeks before these annual checkups. Then the anxiety sets in.
I’ve got something new to consider, however. For some time I’ve been taking letrozole every day (the aromatase inhibitor, or AI, that keeps my body from producing estrogen). And, as I have for four years, I mentioned to the doctor that I was still being bothered by hot flashes and, more importantly, hair loss. If I lose much more hair on my crown, a combover won’t be adequate camouflage. (Pink scalp is already visible through the thinning hair and while I can make it a bit less obvious, I can’t hide it completely.) He could not reassure me that it will grow back when I stop taking these meds in a year. In other words, permanent hair loss is one of the potential downsides of these drugs.
I was well aware of the concern about my heart when I was in treatment. I knew Herceptin in particular could pose a risk, and I saw what great care went into planning my radiation treatment so it would affect my heart as little as possible.
This is Mercy, a healer in the video game “Overwatch,” which I played quite a bit last winter. However, the story here is that the pink skin/outfit she’s wearing was a special fundraiser for the Breast Cancer Research Foundation. Players usually earn new skins for their characters by playing the game. But the only way to get the pink Mercy skin was to pay $15 cash. There was also a limited edition t-shirt available for $30. The minute I read that 100% of the proceeds from the skin would go to the BCRF, I jumped back into the game and bought it. How many fundraisers have you heard of that give 100% of the donations to the charity? I couldn’t NOT be a part of it. Continue reading →
Well, I passed my three-year tests today. Both mammogram and ultrasound were clear. On a day-to-day basis I’ve not thought much about it, but in the last few days before testing I start getting a little anxious. Now I’m just exhausted from being down at the medical center since 10:30 this morning. Got home about 3:30 pm.
I made some comment to the oncologist about a report I’d seen indicating a lot of women with earlier stages of breast cancer might not need chemo after all. But that wouldn’t have included me, he said. I could have been classified a Stage III because of the chest nodes that looked possibly cancerous on the first scan. But he didn’t want to freak me out unnecessarily. As I recall he said at the time that they might be cancerous but also might just be inflamed because of the nearby tumor. They did not “glow” or show up on later scans.
The question is moot now, of course. I had the chemo. And the radiation. And there’s been no sign of cancer since then.
You may recall my concern when my oncologist decided against the standard year-long Herceptin treatment because he suspected Herceptin had caused my pneumonitis. As he reminded me at the time, I’d already had four Herceptin treatments because it was included in my chemo cocktail with two other drugs. And my diagnosis of HER2 positive was not definitive, having been only “maybe” or “negative” in some tests and having occurred not in the primary tumor but in a satellite nodule. Continue reading →
It’s taken a few months for it to really sink in, but my hair is thinning. Rapidly. The bathroom looks like one of my exes has moved back in. If the thinning stopped right now, it would be manageable with a bit of fluffing and arranging over the crown, but I’m afraid it won’t.
I saw my oncologist Tuesday for my 6-month checkup and he confirmed my suspicion — that the aromatase inhibitor (aka AI, either Aromasin or Femara) I’m taking is the culprit. It stops all estrogen synthesis by the adrenal glands, so I’m getting zip, less even than a normal post-menopausal woman would have. The result is thinning hair, leaning toward what is called male-pattern baldness. Continue reading →
I saw my oncologist yesterday for my quarterly followup check-up, and as I expected, it was pretty much:
“Hi, how ya doin’?”
“Any new issues?”
“Okay, great. Come back in six months.” Continue reading →
Two years ago, on May 20, 2015, I had my lumpectomy. That was followed with 4 rounds of chemo, 3 weeks apart, and 33 radiation treatments. After that, and after getting rid of a stubborn, gut-busting cough, I started 5 years of hormonal treatment (it should be called anti-hormone treatment).