Chemo brain sets in

For the first time in this breast cancer journey I was near to tears this morning. And I'm almost embarrassed to say why. I shouldn't have let myself get to this point. But, you know, when you try your best to be informed and keep those who need to know informed, it is disappointing when it doesn't work. I had to go back to the lab this morning to have my blood drawn again to see if the platelet count was going up. The way it looked on Monday, my oncologist said I wouldn't be able to do my chemotherapy today if my platelet count remained as low as it was. I was a little unhappy about having to go back to the lab again. My arm looks like a junky's arm, I'm sure. I never used to have a problem with needles. I always felt that getting shots and giving blood was a good thing to do so I felt no fear. Now, I do not look forward to my forays into the lab. So as is my custom, I told the receptionist I am a clumper. She told me to tell the technician who was to draw my blood. I handed the technican my card which CLEARLY states that I am a clumper but just to be on the safe side I said, "do I need to tell you I am a clumper?". And she said yes, okay, and so I thought it was taken care of. She was a good sticker. I didn't even feel the needle go in and she was done in moment. An hour after I got home there was a call. I had to go back and do it again. My blood had clumped. I just about lost it. I was so unhappy. Not mad, not angry, I just didn't want another needle in my arm. But I went back to Kaiser, thank goodness it is only about 7 minutes away, and presented myself to the woman who had telephoned me. We went over what happened and I reminded her that she, herself, had put a sticker on my card saying I was a clumper. I told her I had told the technician and she said I should have told the receptionist. I assured her I had told the receptionist and that the receptionist had told me I should tell the technician. The woman who called me took me back to a drawing station and told me that whenever I have my blood drawn I should make sure there are two vials, one blue, one lavender. I assured her I would. When she finished she ran the blood upstairs and a few minutes after I got home the numbers were posted on my medical files which I can access through the Kaiser website. And the platelet count had gone up quite a bit. I was very pleased. So I did proceed to Kaiser for my 10 a.m. chemo appointment where I was greeted with open arms. I had Denise again as my chemo nurse. They are all very nice but she is especially kind and very upbeat. I have to say that as long as I am awake there, I truly enjoy the visit. But the benadryl usually knocks me out so I don't always stay awake.

There was one scary moment though. I am afraid my chemo brain is real. Before they administer all the chemo drugs there is a cross check ritual that must be observed. Another nurse is called over to go over all the drugs with my primary chemo nurse, the name of the drug and the amounts to be used and who they are for. But even before they do that they check basic information with the patient. And I am used to this so I just go through the information without their asking me. My name, spelling the last name. Then my Kaiser number, then my date of birth. I said 12 and then I started to say 28. But it didn't sound right to me. For the briefest of moments I couldn't remember 22. Horrors! Then it jumped into my brain. The birth year followed (1948 for those of you who are afraid to ask) and the rest was clear sailing. But it did shake me up because that had never happened to me before.

I slept for some of the time today. I tried to read my book, Our Hearts Were Young and Gay, a true, light hearted look at two young Bryn Mawr girls who take a summer off to travel to Europe in the 20's, written by Cornelia Otis Skinner in 1943. I read it first when I was 12 or 13 and it turned on the travel gene in me. I dreamed of doing the same thing when I was 18. And lo and behold I sort of got my wish. My Czech grandma took me on a 4 month grand tour of Europe when I was 16. Anyone remember Fodor's Europe on $5 a Day? Well, we did it. It wasn't exactly the trip I envisioned. My grandma was not a fellow 16 year old, she was 70, and she was quite determined to make a young lady out of me. I would have none of it and we sometimes had very strong disagreements. But it was still the trip of a lifetime and I will never forget it. But I digress.

My chemo treatment went smoothly, although when the herceptin was started my legs felt a rush. I asked the substitute nurse (my nurse was on her lunch breake) to slow down the flow. I told her what was going on and she agreed to change the drip from 30 minutes to an hour. Aside from that, nothing else exciting happened.

My appointment started later than usual so it lasted through the lunch hour. I was really hungry when the treatment was over so I asked Andy to take me out for lunch. We went to the Cheesecake Factory. And then another revelation. I was going to have a salad but suddenly my brain said Hamburger. After making my decision I decided to call Liz D. to let her know I was done. She likes to keep tabs on me, just in case (I don't know of what the just in case is about). Anyway, she told me to load up on protein and suddenly I had an epiphany. I have already said how I see the metaphor of the marathon in this breast cancer treatment. And suddenly it became real. Just as I figured out after my third marathon that I had to have a hamburger (and a beer) after completing a marathon, I must have some good protein after chemo. So the hamburger was a perfect choice. And french fries weren't a bad substitute for beer although they are much fattier. But aside from just about falling asleep at the table afterwards, I felt really good about my choice.

And so we went home and we both promptly fell asleep. After about 2 hours I woke up. Liz D. came over with a meal from Nikki at school and then Liz M. arrived with some homemade split pea soup. Dinner was spectacular. Thank you both!

I am now offically into the second half of the super chemo treatment. Two more and then I only have to continue with the herceptin for 9 more months. But the radiation will begin in July if everything continues well. And that will be a new part of my journey and adventure. Stay tuned!