Well, I don't look like that anymore

moving off the Epirubicin and Cytoxen and on to the Taxol was a wonderful thing.  But, the pre-meds for the Taxol involve some hefty steroids, which are making me plump back up after two months of nausea.

My hair is growing, white, and very thin, I look a lot like my grampa.  I loved him dearly, but have never had a desire to look like him.  I try to get out in the sun occasionally to see if I can get a few of those big orange age spots he had on his scalp to liven up the thin white hair.  no luck so far.

effing insurance companies

I ventured from the house a few days ago.  Took the kid to Walmart, and decided to wander in with her,  despite being dressed in my finest Valley trash finest, pink spotted pajama bottoms, baggy sweatshirt, old carhart jacket and a floppy hat (I hadn't intended to go inside).

I had just gotten in the door when my phone rang.  It was Kathy from my insurance company.  "I'm just calling to tell you that we aren't going to be paying for your chemotherapy."  According to her, the program I am on is not approved for the type of cancer I have.  I can't say that I handled my end of the conversation well, but neither did she.  When I asked what my was the approved protocol she simply said that she wasn't a doctor and couldn't tell me.  When I asked what my options were she said I had to talk to my doctor.  So, I asked if I was just supposed to crawl into a corner and die, she said I needed to talk to my doctor about that.  So, I asked if I could speak to her supervisor, and she said that I needed to talk to my doctor.  So.  I hung up.

 I called Lorrie in a frazzle, and she called my boss who called me back and said not to worry.  Lorrie then called Dr. Stewart's office and spoke with the billing lady who said "this is going to be fun.  Not even God questions Dr. Stewart, I'll take care of this."


It took about a week for things to get straightened out, but WTF next?  I have sores in my mouth, I'm puking my guts out, my bones hurt like hell, I'm balder than my dad and I get a call from some dingbat telling me that my doctor, the best oncologist in the State of Alaska doesn't know how to prescribe chemo.

The lady at the drive through at the bank did tell me that I was pretty and didn't need to put my scarf back on though.

so, now I'm just pissed

I have this triple negative cancer.  BFD.  I'm not fighting it, I'm being treated for it with whatever they have on hand.  Which, for this particular cancer is just plain ol' chemo.  dose dense, 'cause that seems to have good results.  great.

Stay off the internet, don't read other people's stories, they are scary and not very many of them have happy endings.  They don't have happy endings because they're not over yet.  This TNBC is relatively new, so there aren't 30 years of studies to tell me what to expect.  So, all the posts are by people who are living what I'm living.  I don't have the brilliant words to put down to express my anger at the pink revolution, and what a sham it appears to be.  I was suckered into it, all the way up to finding out that some organizations would spend donated dollars on lawyers to defend a common phrase, when I thought all those donated dollars were going to research this disease, and perhaps find a cure.  Can't find the cause because there are too many different kinds out there, but there damn sure has been enough money raised to put towards a concerted effort at a cure.  It's an effing gene mutation for God's sake!!!


But if we isolate that gene, and figure out a way to unmutate it, then the pharmaceuticals would be out zillions of dollars.

over $5K for one Nulasta shot to keep my WBC's up.  I'm not in that clinic for one whole minute to receive that shot, and the bill is over $5K.  Can't wait for the bills for when I spend hours at at time in there hooked up to the poison bottles.

I think Absinthe would be more fun.

WTF

don't let them kid you, chemo sucks

So,
I started chemo last week.  Tuesday I shaved my head, Wednesday I had the Groshong catheter inserted to facilitate the infusions, Thursday, I started Epirubicin and Cytotoxen, and Friday got a Nulasta shot.  Started puking right off the bat,

however

I found out I do have to go through the chemo routine, just in case.  not thrilled about that.  have to meet an oncologist this week to find out what all that will entail. 

I guess i'm looking forward to wearing lots of cool hats.

cancer free

so, Tuesday evening, a call from my doctor telling me that all the lymph nodes are clean, and the mastectomy resulted in clear margins around all cancer bearing tumors.  So, my wild ride from clear to cancer and back again is apparently over for the moment.  two weeks ago, my doc said 'you have cancer', yesterday my new doc said I don't.

yee haw!!!

misssing one breast

isn't as bad as I thought it would be.  the drain is irritating and annoying.

I'm using lots of traumeel around the incision to keep the swelling down, it's doing great, I think