Moving on

Wow!  I can’t believe it’s about 20 months since my last entry. I guess I can blame COVID for putting me into a state of suspended animation. We’ve all used that excuse, haven’t we?  But, there’s nothing like wanting to shout the good news from the mountain top to bring you back to living in the real world. 

Yesterday, I got my latest PET scan results, and I remain cancer-free!  I see my gynecological oncologist in two days to go over the results together - for the last time. More on that in a second. 

Through some sort of failed negotiations between our insurance company and my husband’s employer, the Northside Hospital System is no longer a part of our health insurance coverage. Since 2012, I’ve received all my oncologic care from the Northside network, probably the most robust gynecological oncology program in the state of Georgia. So, I’ve got to find a new oncologist, a new thoracic surgeon, a new radiation oncologist, and a new infusion center. I’m sure my current oncologist will have some suggestions for me, but I’m devastated nonetheless. Northside has saved my life at least three times. Going somewhere else is just unthinkable. 

But, I will persist. I will find what I need. Right now, however, it seems an impossible task. 

Thank goodness I’ve got a clean bill of health at the moment, so I won’t have to rush to find my new oncologist. I’ll have time to do my research and come up with an alternative that will be receptive to my myriad of questions at each encounter. 

So, I celebrate, albeit with a slightly heavy heart. Good bye, Northside. You’ve been very good to me. 

Happy New Year!

There are two ways of spreading light — to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.

— Edith Wharton 

New Years Greetings to All!

I rang in the new year by going to sleep about 10:30 on New Year’s Eve.  Just didn’t have it in me to stay up for the festivities.  That’s okay.  I’m glad the new year has arrived, so far with good news.  I had my check up with my oncologist on Friday, and my physical exam was good.  I’m scheduled for my next PET/CT scan in late March, with a follow up appointment with my oncologist two weeks afterward.

Though perhaps the best news is I’ve begun volunteering with a local food pantry, two days a week, for a four-hour shift each day.  I’ve been set to the task of answering the incoming phone calls for the organization, which is much more than it sounds like it might be.  I’m the front line of contact with people who are in dire straits.  They’ve probably been considering making their phone call for days, desperate in some area of their lives and needing help.  I’m there to listen to them, offer them some comfort, and hopefully find a way to help them out.

The organization does much more than just feed the stomach.  They have utilities and prescription medication assistance, as well as a job board, homework help, and various activities for their clients through out the year.  My first volunteer job was taking pictures of the clients with Santa at the pantry’s annual Christmas party.  I went to Walmart to find the most ridiculously decorated sweater I could find, wore my knee-length Santa hat, and dusted off my old Canon SLR camera for some good shots.  The kids had crafts projects to do, cookies and milk, and each received a stocking with small toys and other treats.  It was a wonderful evening.

I go in today for the tougher work, answering those phones.  I’m still on a learning curve.  I want to connect up potential clients with the correct services we offer, but I also want to be a resource of other services in the community that we don’t offer...like help with rent or house payments or clothing sources.  I’ve spent hours on the Internet educating myself about similar organizations in the community that offer compatible services.  I want every caller who makes that difficult phone call to hang up with some sort of resources, some sort of hope.

The magical thing about volunteering with this organization is the energy I receive back from my work.  Four hours is a long shift for me, but every time I leave with a sense of purpose and gratitude for what I have and what I have to give.  This is probably the best cure for my moodiness and fatigue I get from the post-chemo drug I’m taking, Arimidex.  I feel very fortunate.

So, my new year begins on a very positive note.  I wish the same for all of you dear readers.

The new me

Here I am with my current head of hair.

Yes, it’s a little graying on top.  I’ll decide later if I’ll do anything about it or just let my freak flag fly.

It’s grown in a bit more since my last blog entry, which I can’t believe was over two months ago.  I guess when chemo ends, there’s less to talk about.  But, really, there shouldn’t be.  I should be letting everybody know what life post-chemo is like.  Well, here goes a bit.

The Arimidex, the post-chemo oral medication that I’m taking to suppress estrogen stores, is no barrel of monkeys.  However, it’s not nearly as bad as the Tamoxifen and Megace that I took after my first round of chemo.  I do get mild hot flashes — not the wake-you-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night with sheets soaking wet kind — but they do interrupt my sleep occasionally with the need to fling the covers off.  The effect on my mood and fatigue are more difficult to deal with.  I’m combating that with exercise, journaling, and, soon, getting back into community service.  There’s nothing like helping others to change your perspective and bring on the feel goods.

I have been feeling good enough to do some traveling.  To celebrate the end of my chemo and great last PET scan results, Paul and I went to Sonoma Valley to do some wine tasting back in October...the day after the wildfires started.  We had to adjust our winery visits, but we still managed to have a great time.  We didn’t realize it had been so long since we’d had a trip just the two of us.  It was a great way to reconnect and look ahead toward the future.

Additionally, last month, I went on a 10-day solo trip to visit friends in Oklahoma and Texas, and, yes, I can affirm...there is no basement at the Alamo.  I can also attest that Oklahoma wines are terrible and driving on highways around Dallas require nerves of steel.  However, I had lots of laughs with several great friends, and the entire trip was beyond wonderful.

We went to the family farm in South Carolina for Thanksgiving, and while many of my thoughts turned to my mom and the incredible meals she prepared for Thanksgivings past, it was heartwarming to see extended family and share some quality time together.

So, here we find ourselves in the midst of the Christmas season.  In usual Moore fashion, we don’t yet have a tree up, but we’ll take care of that soon.  I find myself feeling well enough to host both Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas Day brunch, and for that, I am very grateful.  I might need to take a few breaks to put my feet up for a few minutes along the way, but I’m so glad to be able to play hostess for the holidays.  

I’ll have an appointment with my oncologist at the first of the year, and then we’ll talk about scheduling another PET scan a few months after that.  But, I’m not focusing on that part of my life.  It’s not like I can ever forget that I’m a stage IV cancer patient, but thoughts of it don’t invade my every moment.  I have too much else to think about these days.

Kayaking without the dolphins

The weather was perfect last evening. Broad Creek was at near low tide, and the wind was only a whisper.  It should have been the ideal time for kayaking with the dolphins, but other than one faint unseen spurt from a blow hole just as we were coming back into dock after a two-hour paddle to experience what became the illusive sea creature, there were no dolphins to be seen.  “Eighty per cent of the time, we see dolphins,” boasted our guide.

Oh well.  It was still a great paddle under ideal circumstances, and I’m most proud of the fact that my kayaking skills remain intact...not that I’m a veteran, by any stretch of the imagination...but I do enjoy getting out on occasion.  The ease of the paddle rotating through the water when you get your rhythm just right.  The silence of it all, except for the swish-swish of paddle to water.  I kept up, mostly in the front of our tour group, and was determined that this chemo woman, this cancer patient, was not going to tire out and hold the group back...and I didn’t, and it was glorious.

Ester Williams has nothing on me

Perhaps it’s been since the Ester Williams era of the 1950’s that you thought of women wearing a  bathing cap, but that’s exactly what I’ve been doing this week at Hilton Head Island.  Not only do I want to disguise my bald pate, I want to protect its tender skin from the harsh rays of the sun.  Hence, my retro bathing cap.

My eyes are squinted a bit more than usual, as the wind was whipping up a bit of a sand storm, but let it never be said that I didn’t want to make a statement with my headwear.  Yes, I’ve gotten more than the occasional sideways glance from the masses along the beach, but I truly don’t care.  I’ve got my beach read, my adult beverage, my comfy beach chair, and my family around me.  What more could a girl ask for?  It’s a lovely way to escape the regimen of chemotherapy and cancer worries for a week.  So what if i don’t have long curly locks to tie up into a stylish bun?  That time will come again.  In the meantime, I’ll take my Ester Williams look in exchange for healthier times in the future. 

A welcome respite

Well, my new normal seems to be waking up about 4:00 a.m., as I did this morning.  I don’t mind, anymore, because I went to bed at 10:00 last night and had a long three-hour nap yesterday afternoon.  The house is very quiet, and I’ve come to like this contemplative time to myself.

I got my Day 10 blood work results yesterday, and they’re great!  My neutrophils are hanging in there at 2300, a little below what’s normal for the average person but well above what’s considered acceptable to continue treatment without any bone marrow support.  Additionally, the cancer marker, CA-125, continues to drop, indicating my cancer is receding.  I’ve got four chemotherapy treatments under my belt with two more to go.  I really couldn’t ask for better.

My energy levels are okay, probably great for this stage in the chemo game, but I certainly look forward to the day that I feel fully myself again.  I did have a little scare about a week ago when my temperature spiked up to 101.6, but it resolved within six hours with some ibuprofen and Tylenol, and no other symptoms.  My oncologist wasn’t too concerned, and with the positive Day 10 blood work, we consider it of no consequence.

Paul, the boys, and I leave for Hilton Head Island today for a week long family vacation, perhaps our last together for a while with the boys starting college in a few short weeks.  I want to cherish this time we’ll have together, and I look forward to many hours reading my book in a comfy chair under the beach tent.  Since the boys had solo experiences with no parents down at Hilton Head earlier this summer, I hope Paul and I don’t cramp their style too much.  I have to keep reminding myself that they’re young men now with their own agendas.

I’m lucky that this trip I planned back in February before I knew of my cancer recurrence so nicely fits into my chemo schedule.  It’s during the third week of the cycle, just before my next treatment on the 30th, and typically the week when I’m feeling at my best.  I don’t know that I’ll feel up to climbing the Sea Pines Lighthouse, but we do plan on going on an evening nature-guided kayak tour in the interior marshes of the island, near dolphin feeding grounds.  We’re all hopeful to kayak alongside the dolphins.  I’ve done this once before, and it was magical.  The touring company has named several of the dolphins, so I think this is a good indicator that they often appear.

However, I have to admit that the chemo regimen is getting old about now.  I’m tired of feeling tired, and I’m tired of parsing out my days based on someone else’s agenda.  I’m ready to plan my life at my own whim, but I remind myself that I’ve only got about another month to go before I’ve got all six treatments under my belt.  And then, hopefully, another long remission when I’m the captain of my own ship, heading to whatever new lands that ship takes me.  I’ve already got tentative plans of some travels I hope to undertake when I’m done.  It’s nice to have those goals and be an armchair travel agent, taking myself to both familiar and unfamiliar places.

But, then there’s my new life of an empty nester coming up and all the uncertainties that brings.  I know I’ve got to find something meaningful to occupy my time, and I enjoy finding myself sifting through the possibilities.  Cancer has a way of changing your perspective of what’s important, and though I only have inklings of where I’ll end up, I know I want to participate in something that matters, to give back to the universe some of the positive energy it has given me to get through this journey.

However, right now, I just need to focus on packing my suitcase and hitting the road to the coast, a welcome respite with my own agenda at the top of the list.  I think I’ve earned this one.

On the right path

Two days ago, I had my mid-treatment PET scan to assess the progress of the three chemotherapy sessions I’ve had thus far, and I got the results yesterday.  I still have a ways to go, but the cancer is receding.  Not only were the nodules in my lungs less reactive to the radioactive glucose that they love to lap up during a PET scan, they had decreased in size.  I’m not out of the woods yet, but we’re definitely on the right path to eradicating them...the best news a cancer patient can receive when midway through treatment.  My chemo cocktail of carboplatin and placlitaxel is working, and I am on the road to being cancer free again!

This drug combination worked well for me the last time I had chemo seven years ago, so I’ve been expecting the same results this time.  But, to receive confirmation is a joyous occasion...so joyous, I threw aside my afternoon fatigue and had happy hour with the girls yesterday.  I shared with them my good news, and they reveled in it with me.  Then, we got down to the business of conversation about our daily lives over gin and tonics.  The best way to celebrate.  Just being ourselves without the heavy cloud of cancer hanging over my every thought.  It was so liberating.

I am beyond grateful for my doctors with their knowledge of how best to treat me, my family and friends for their constant support and encouragement, and for the positivity in the universe that I’m able to tap into to keep me going.  This third cycle has been a more difficult one for me, as fatigue has been more challenging, but this news is worth every nap I’ve had to take.  It sort of puts it all in perspective for me.  I need my rest so my body can do its best to let the chemo repair it.  I’ll sleep all day for these kind of results and not complain about it...well, maybe once or twice.

On other fronts, Paul was able to have his staples removed yesterday from his emergency appendectomy about two and a half weeks ago.  He’s not 100% either just yet, but he’s definitely improving every day.  He’s had to learn the power of a healing afternoon nap too.

So, life is pretty good in the Moore household, and for that I am very thankful.