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.”
After months of indecision, I called my oncologist last week and told him I was ready to switch from exemestane (Aromasin) to letrozole (Femara). He’d suggested several months ago that if I wanted to, I could make the change because the letrozole might have fewer, milder side effects. And I’ve been wrestling with the decision ever since.
Despite the title of my post a few days ago, today is my real one-year anniversary. My cancer surgery was exactly one year ago, May 20, 2015, and was the first salvo in my war against the invading malignancy.
I hasten to say, however, that I’m not a “hero” for “fighting courageously.” And I’m not “brave” or deserving of praise. Few cancer patients really are, although that’s the way we’re often depicted by others. We really have only one decision to make: We decide to fight and go through whatever treatment the professionals deem necessary, or we decide not to fight and just let the cancer grow and spread until it kills us. Continue reading
I need a secretary (er, make that “administrative professional”) to keep track of all my medical stuff — the notes, the meds, the appointments, the instructions, etc. And I needed that secretary yesterday when I saw my oncologist for the first time since mid-January. So much had happened that he wanted to know about, and I had a bunch of questions saved up for him. It all amounted to a ton of details flying back and forth. Details I wanted to remember. Needed to remember. But I didn’t take notes because I wanted to give him my full attention. Besides, it’s routine to get a four-to-six-page printout after each appointment, detailing everything.
Yesterday brought me another step closer to normalcy. My IV port (Mediport) was removed in an outpatient procedure in CU’s Interventional Radiology department. (The doctor’s office didn’t strike me as a serious enough setting.)
So now there’s no more foreign body in my chest. No more lump under my skin or catheter bulging on the side of my neck (purely cosmetic concerns, unlike some cases I’ve read about). The port is gone. In its place, a neat 4 × 4 clear adhesive patch covering a smaller 2 × 2 gauze pad. I’m to keep the dressing dry for 48 hours, then can remove it and deal with just Steri-Strips for about 10 days.
It seemed anticlimactic after coughing through most of last summer, fall, and early winter and then struggling through the “joys” of prednisone for two months, but Monday (four days ago) was my last appointment with the pulmonologist.
We had a nice little chat and she listened to my lungs a bit. Conclusion: lungs sound normal. I don’t need to see her again unless and until there’s some new lung problem or a recurrence of the cough.
I’m still here, still waiting impatiently for the calendar to announce that — Yes!! — I’m finally off prednisone. It won’t be much longer; I’m in the last week of my taper, currently taking 10 mg every other day. Barring the reappearance of lung problems or cough or anything else that demands I restart it, I’ll be free of prednisone this time next week. Then, next time I talk to the pulmonologist, I’ll get instructions for tapering off the Advair (also a corticosteroid).
Okay, I’m finally admitting to myself that my puffy eyelids could be part of the dreaded “moon face” that prednisone can cause. I’ve been telling myself for several weeks that my face looks rounder just because I have so little hair on top of my round head. But I think it might be more than that.
It’s another of those fun things that many senior citizens have to put up with, but it’s only become a notable problem for me in the last few weeks. The medical term for it is orthostatic hypotension. It’s that dizzy feeling you sometimes get when you stand up after sitting or lying down for a while.
We’ve been hearing for most of a week now that a big storm is due in on or about Monday. It’s been dubbed Winter Storm Kayla and the forecasters now agree the snow will begin tomorrow night and continue through Monday, with accumulation of up to 12″ (16″ in one forecast) here in Denver. That’s a lot more than we usually get at one time.