Imaginings, Anxiety, and Panic…

I had another Herceptin treatment a couple of weeks ago, and during it I managed to work myself up into a tizzy [anxiety, panic attack]! First of all, I forgot to bring anything with me to do…no Game Boy, no book, no journal, not even a piece of paper to write on. All of that occurred to me as I was leaving work a half hour early to get to my 4:15 appointment. As I was leaving and Robert heard me say I hadn’t brought anything with me to do, I heard him call out, “How long are you going to be there?” Knowing how his mind works, I skedaddled out the door before he could give me some work to do. Even though the treatments are not long, it was upsetting me to not have brought anything to do. I don’t have the Internet or any games on my phone; and I figured I couldn’t call and talk to anyone throughout my treatment, given that it was still working hours for most folks. I decided to chance running in somewhere to grab a quick magazine, crossword puzzle, or Sudoku book, hoping it wouldn’t cut too much time off my drive. I chose Circle K. What a mistake! The only thing for sale to read in there were magazines geared to purient interests…not an InStyle, InTouch, People…nothing! When I arrived at the Cancer Institute’s third floor I sought out their magazines. All right! A People and a Readers’ Digest…haven’t seen one of those in years. Just before I was called in for the treatment, I began to browse People. It appeared to have some ads in Spanish. No, it appeared to be entirely in Spanish. I guess I missed that Espanol sign on the front cover. I guessed the Readers’ Digest would have to do. After being weighed on the scale [that tells nothing but lies] I was led to an infusion area, which was actually crowded. I surmised that since it was the end of the day and most of the nurses go home, leaving only maybe two to finish off the late comers, they put everyone in the same area. It’s not as if it’s claustrophobic, it’s just better if every seat isn’t taken. How can you tell who’s the patient and who’s the guest? Well, other than the obvious things to look for, the patient sits in the reclining chair, the guest in the regular arm chair. Mona wasn’t there. You know, I am used to her now; and I trust her. Joyce would be my nurse that day. I trust Joyce, too. I asked her if Herceptin was my treatment with no Benadryl. She replied that was what was in the bag. She didn’t even have to draw blood. She said that I wouldn’t need that so often now. Great! Another milestone. She got my IV going. I sat back to read the Digest. From the Table of Contents, I selected two articles. One was about a man who took very ill, very quickly while on vacation with his family. He nearly died from some rare condition, and the story was pretty ugly. The next article was about an 18-year old who died from Leukemia. One of his last requests was that his mother go on to be a nurse, which she had not actually thought of before. She did, and she went back and worked in the same cancer ward where her son had spent so much time and finished his life. I know how to pick articles to read, don’t I? A couple of minutes after I got started, Joyce came back to ask me routine questions that the nurses then go enter into the computerized charts. They always want to know about your bodily functions, etc. Then she asked if I’d had any numbness or tingling in my feet. I replied that I had recently taken up walking and that sometimes at the end of the mile, I would experience a little of that. She seemed to think nothing of it, and went away. I swear, as soon as she left, my feet went completely numb. Oh, I know it sounds funny now; but it surely wasn’t funny then. Joyce and the other nurse were so busy, I couldn’t really catch either one of them to ask about my numb feet. Since everyone was sort of jammed into this one area, I especially didn’t want anyone else to hear me ask [in case it sounded stupid, which it most likely was]. The more I concentrated on my numb feet, the more numb they felt. One foot at a time, I would press the ball of my foot on the floor and move it around in circles; that only helped a little. The more I thought about it, I decided the numbness was from the drug. There’s the tizzy part…I worked myself up into something ridiculous. Finally, Joyce got close enough and the crowd thinned out enough that I motioned her over. I said, “Joyce, I know this is probably nothing, but ever since you asked me about numbness in my feet, they’ve both gone numb. Can it be from the drug?” Joyce replied that she was sure it wasn’t and said, “Oh, look, you’re done. Let’s undo this and get you on your way.” She did ask if I was having any difficulty breathing, which I wasn’t, so I left. My feet remained with no feeling all the way home and then some. Finally, after twenty minutes to a half an hour, I got the feeling back in my feet. Lessons learned: 1. Don’t ever go to treatment without your own reading material, Game Boy, or journal again. 2. Don’t let your imagination take over your mind. 3. Don’t let panic get as far as an anxiety attack. 4. Don’t read articles about horrible medical conditions and death from cancer while you have an IV in your arm. 5. Lighten up. Everything’s going to be all right.

Dear Julie,

As you noticed in my previous Herceptin entry, I did get laryngitis not too long after my first two treatments. I had not thought about that being a side effect from the drug. At that time of the year, just about everyone is sick in an elementary school; and many of the staff had one form or another of laryngitis. I just figured over the holidays that it was my turn. If, as you suggested, it was a side effect, it has not lasted. Along with whatever caused the laryngitis, though, I had a cough for quite some time. I’ve only recently stopped carrying cough drops every where I go. I’m surprised that your treatments are three times a week, as opposed to mine, which are once every three weeks. I haven’t seen my oncologist since I began the Herceptin treatments, but I don’t think I’m experiencing any side effects from it. I am so pleased to have heard from you, all the way around the world from me. I hope I’ve been of some help. Please, let’s continue the dialogue; and I wish you well in your recovery from cancer.

Dottie

One Year Anniversary…

One year ago today, we renewed our vows with all of the family present, even including the snow-bird Finers (Susan’s in-laws) from Iowa. One year ago tomorrow, I found a lump in my breast. Hmmm…which anniversary should I celebrate? One whole year; it’s unbelievable! Eight chemo treatments, 25 radiation treatments, a variety of surgeries and scans, and a handful of Herceptin treatments. AND, here I am, family intact, me intact…Did I miss much? Yeah, about a third of Ana’s life when I couldn’t be much of a grandmother to her…a lesser percentage of J.J.’s life because he’s going to be six and we already had a history together. I didn’t miss any holidays or celebrations or probably very many good times, really. I transferred schools and work with two of my very best friends, Robert and Laura, and with a bunch of new friends and mentees (my word for those who are mentored). My new job is four miles from home, as opposed to my last, which was twenty. We’re planning for a wedding and a walk in the Race for the Cure. My radiation area is pretty much healed. My eyebrows are close to all the way back. I even have a few eyelashes. I had to shave my legs and armpits. My hair is growing back, not red and curly as I had hoped, but white and fly-away…but you can’t have everything, can you? Life is good! Happy Anniversary! Amen!