Chemo Day 12

For the last treatment there had to be a bit of excitement. My port didn't work again. I had to have blood drawn from my arm. They ran out of the normal needle gauge size. One of my four drugs was pulled from my regimen. We set off the patient alert alarm throughout the center and we forgot a bottle opener. But all in all, the final chemo session was as fun as a chemo session can be - if that makes any sense.

Both my mom and Craig were there with me for this momentous occasion. God willing, the last time I will ever have to sit in the chemo recliner. In fact, I don't know that I'll ever look at faux leather recliners the same ever again. I think they'll always remind me of long hours spent with my feet up waiting for the drugs to drip.

I think all three of us were a little bit loopy with excitement - so ready to celebrate that this routine was over, but also careful that not everyone in the cancer center was celebrating, knowing that for some, that day may have been just the beginning of their journey and I could only hope that it'd be as successful as mine. But we managed to celebrate on the sly, sort of.

I brought in Funfetti cupcakes for my life-saving team and made them all pose for pictures with me, much to their chagrin, I think. It's probably not a request that comes often, but I never want to forget the faces of the people that saved my life and made this hell a hell of a lot easier to bear.

We had an emotional meeting with Dr. Dailey. I got myself a little paclemped trying to thank him for all that he has done to keep me sane and healthy. We talked about next steps and follow-ups and scans - though that's all a little surreal. Because I have had a

persistent cough throughout much of these past few months and had just come off the bad cold I had been fighting, Dr. Dailey thought it best to omit the Bleomycin from my last chemo treatment. So instead, I got a three-liquor cocktail: AVD for my send-off. This is because of the concerns of pulmonary toxicity that can arise from the harsh drug. Its effects could leave me with long-term lung damage. He said he was 5% concerned that the bleo could have negative long-term effects and 0% concerned that omitting it would have any negative outcome on the effectiveness of my treatment course. I was sold. Plus, that shaved a half-hour off of the process!

Luckily, the three of us secured a private room as I think we would have been a bit too rowdy for the common areas. My wonderful nurse Diane came in to "poke my port" one last time.

"Ready. Pinch," she said. The usual routine. It hurt a bit but the needle was in.

"We're out of the small needles so I had to give you a 19-gauger," she said.

"Glad you told me that afterward," I replied. Very smart woman she is.

Big needle or not, my port was not coughing up any blood again. Drawing blood is a necessity of the process and my port just wasn't putting out. That meant a stick in the arm - sigh. For all I went through with fighting to get the port it was a bit frustrating that I'd still have to get stuck, but I was just grateful that it was working well enough to take in the drugs. I can't wait to get that sucker out of my body.

So my buddy Denise came in to do the dirty work. She gave me a stress ball to squeeze and left me with a Sharpie-drawn smiley face on my gauze strip which made me laugh like a doofy little kid. As I've said throughout this, it's the little things like that that really make all the difference. For the rest of the time as the chemo started flowing my smile was as wide as the one on my arm.

Craig, my mom and I talked and joked and reminisced a bit about the crazy ride it's been. Then suddenly this strange beeping noise starts eminating through the center. No one is sure what it is. Then Craig realizes he'd been leaning on the "Pull For Help" button. Apparently no one has ever pulled it because no one knew what the sound was for a good few minutes. Then all came rushing in and had a good laugh over it - Diane saying that was the most fun she had had all day.

We pulled over a table and played Scrabble SLAM - a new favorite game. Especially good for the chemo brained as it only deals with four-letter words - nothing too fancy. We threw out cards and yelled out words as Jack Johnson played in the background and the time passed. I sucked on my ice cubes during the push drugs and snacked on healthy treats to keep my nausea down.

I had just a few ounces left in the Decarbazine bag but could not hold my bladder any longer. I was so afraid that the "end-of-bag alarm" would ding while I was in the bathroom and I wouldn't get to celebrate with everyone. It was a race to the finish, but I made it back to my chemo room to hear those final beautiful, mechanical notes.

At that, it was time to pop the sparkling apple cider that we had brought. But

who knew it would be a pop top? Craig tried desperately to pry it open to no avail. Then once again, Diane to the rescue with a bottle opener from the back room --- for the tough days.

We cheerzed as Diane removed the needle from my port one last time and I was flooded with a rush of freedom. Thank God Almighty, Free at last!

I got all unhooked, said my goodbyes, and left without tears headed for a delicious post-chemo Bertuccis lunch. I don't think it all will hit me until a few months from now when the dust settles and the smoke clears and I can really look back and realize what happened to me and to every

one around me.

Until then, I'm just focused on getting better. That means more Neupogen shots. More scans. More bloodwork. A port removal surgery. I'll be working on piecing myself back together one step at a time.

Take the Good with the Bad

Lots of good things have been happening lately, including new babies and big birthdays. Amid them comes the bad - hacking coughs, chest x-rays and nausea. So it's been about finding a balance and I'm so glad that I have something to balance the badness against. The good things always outweigh. 

On Friday, Craig and I drove up to Mass. to meet our 5-day-old nephew, Jake Reid Diamond. He is nothing less than amazing. We're very close with Craig's only sibling, Eric, and his wife, Rachel and could not be happier for them. He is so adorable and such a good baby. We got to cuddle with him and watch his hilarious facial expressions. He has more hair than I do and the tiniest little fingers and toes. 

There's nothing like the delicate preciousness of a newborn to put your own life in perspective. I can't wait for many, many more visits with the little man. 

Then it was onto a day of birthdays Saturday. My little brother turned 20. This is insane to me as he'll forever be burned into my brain as an eight-year-old blondie with a bowl haircut ramming his Tonka trucks into the back of my ankle. It doesn't matter that he towers over me, I still can't wrap my brain around the fact that he's now a twentysomething. It was great to see my whole family. We played illegal jarts in the backyard and Sammy even came along to wish a Happy B-Day. She only once, maybe twice, came close to knocking over the picnic table with her long lead. Marley disasters averted. 

Saturday night it was onto our friend Jason's 30th birthday party at Cugino's. All of our longtime friends from Harwinton were there traveling in from California, Mass, Vermont and all over CT. We shared lots of laughs and wine over an authentic and delicious Italian feast of fried calamari, stuffed peppers, salad, pasta and chicken parm. I made it until midnight then it was pumpkin time. I dragged Craig home and slept, hard. 

It was up early on Sunday to drive back up to Mass. This time for my dear friend Liz's baby shower. With some much needed coffee and the windows down the entire ride I headed up the Mass Pike to Worcester reminiscing about the hundreds of times I would make the trek from UNH down I-495 to I-290 through Worcester to visit Craig at UConn. The ride was nostalgic. I like driving by myself. I like the peacefulness of the car. I like that I can blast my music and sing to my heart's content with no one there to have to suffer the consequences. I then hitched up with four of my close girlfriends in Worcester to carpool the rest of the way to North Andover.  So together, two lawyers, an engineer, a medical student, and I were on our way. 

At the baby shower we met the rest of group and the nine of us reunited. We've called ourselves the "girlz" with a "z" since high school. It's stuck and so have we. I love being with these women. Everyone is fun, intelligent, successful, hilarious and huge hearted. It's rare that all nine of us can make an event - we're in many different states now: CT, NY, NJ, MA - so I was not about to miss one of the girlz big days, no matter how tired I may have been. Liz looks fantastic and the teeny baby boy clothes were painfully adorable. 

Not only were my girlz there, but there was also a table full of teachers from my elementary school - Liz's mother among them. Having gone to a very small elementary school- Southwest School in Torrington, I was very close with the teachers and the Southwest community certainly keeps you in the family. There has been an outpouring of support from them since I was diagnosed and it was so nice to see them to be able to thank them in person. One in particular is a hero of mine: Suzy Kline. She was my second grade teacher and my inspiration to pursue a career in writing. She is a very successful children's book author - the woman behind Horrible Harry, Herbie Jones and other series. In class we used to get to go over her books with her as she drafted them and see the red edits and suggestions that her editor would make. She'd look to our class for feedback and draw her story ideas from her students. I thought, and still think, that she is amazing. If you check the dedication page in Horrible Harry's Secret you'll see my (maiden) name along with the rest of my fellow second graders. A small claim to fame. 

We took a quick trip to Liz and Tom's home in Bedford to see the beautiful blue and chocolate brown nursery they've got ready for baby TJ. Then with a couple fruit punch Capri Suns for the road I headed back home. Our couch felt glorious to fall into. 

Amid this jam-packed weekend I started developing a nasty, deep chest cough. I first noticed it on Saturday morning when I woke up shaking coughing like I was going to puke up my lung. I went to yoga and couldn't take a deep breath without progressing into a coughing spasm - quite embarrassing in a room full of calm. So I managed to train myself to take shallow breaths and got through the rest of the weekend's festivities with minimal coughing spasms. But by Sunday night when I got home after pushing myself probably more than I should have between work and play last week, I knew something wasn't right. 

Monday was spent at the cancer center where I got tests of my oxygen levels and heart rate, blood work and evaluations by both Dr. Dailey and his fellow. The "hope" is that I picked up some kind of bug that has given me an upper respiratory infection or virus - easy to do as my immune system is so compromised. Dr. Dailey says that there has been a high concentration of respiratory infections like bronchitis floating around so I could have picked it up anywhere. I say that this is the "hope" because the alternative is that I have developed Bleomycin-induced pulmonary toxicity. This is a damaging of the lungs caused by Bleomycin (the "B" in my "ABVD" in about 10% of patients). I was sent in for a chest x-ray to see if there were any obvious signs of infiltrating lung disease. Turned out my x-ray was normal. This is good. So now I am on antibiotic to kill and cough medicine to suppress this bug. They cause a lot of nausea, but again, I take the good with the bad. Now we have our fingers crossed that everything continues to get better and it's not an early sign of this Bleomycin reaction. If it is, the drug would need to be pulled from my regimen to avoid what could be dangerous damage. 

"I think you're going to be okay. Can I say that?" said Dr. Dailey when he called to go over the chest x-ray results. 

"Yes, you can say that." I replied, smiling through the phone. 

With that news it was out to celebrate our 2-year wedding anniversary. We enjoyed a fantastic dinner at Metro Bis in Simsbury, a restaurant we tried for the first time. Fantastic calamari, pita and hummus, farm fresh salads, flank steak for Craig and a South American catfish for me. Lots of protein, iron and Omega 3s. My nutritionist would be proud. Then we got home and settled in to watch our wedding video. Mind you, this is not a professional video. Craig's uncle took it upon himself to film every moment of our wedding ceremony and reception with his hand-held camcorder on the sly. The moments he captured are completely unscripted and raw. It makes it that much better. I don't know what's more entertaining - watching us share our vows or watching everyone's slick moves on the dance floor when they think no one is watching. Either way, it was great to reminisce. Priceless. 

Today it was decided that despite this infection that I'm combating, I am strong enough to go through chemo after three days of antibiotics in my system. Dr. Dailey didn't feel comfortable pushing the chemo too much off schedule as we plan to be at Cape Cod next week. He doesn't want to be too "casual" about it. I agree. So here I am, ready for infusion number 7.