October was the most difficult month for me, in this, the eighth month of my cancer journey. It beat out the mastectomy surgery in April, and the cellulitis infection in May. They were trumped this past month by three Taxotere infections with febrile neutropenia (fever and low blood counts), and three episodes of Thrush. All of these chemo complications tested my mettle and my patience. I’m glad that month is over.

Through all of this, I came to realize how quickly I could get seriously sick (there is a potential for fatal sepsis with febrile neutropenia), and how few defenses I have to fight infections with low blood counts because of chemotherapy.

In all of this, the phrase “life is fragile” has taken on a more profound meaning for me. Life is even more delicate when you have cancer and are fighting chemo side effects to get well.

The ongoing medical visits with an array of doctors always make me leave thinking I am lucky to be alive with this cancer diagnosis. The visits remind me that I am living on “borrowed time” with a life-threatening illness. Cancer is always on my mind, and always will be. As a cancer patient, you just don’t know how long you have to enjoy the blessings of life in family, and friends. But then again, do any of us really know how long we have in our lifetime? We’re all living on borrowed time.


Delayed Chemo and the Countdown to Conclusion

Earlier this week presented a mixed blessing. My final Taxotere chemo session on November 2 was postponed to the 8th because the Thrush infection had not cleared. I’m now on another potent anti-fungal medication to rid my body of it so that it’s clear for chemo on Monday. I’m glad that these extra six days will boost my low white blood cell counts higher, so that I am stronger to deal with the side effects of the final chemo.

The oncologist has warned that this last cycle would be rough, based on how my body has responded to the first two cycles of Taxotere. My body’s reaction to the drug has been severe enough that an alert has been placed in my patient file. It informs all members of my treatment team, including the oncologists on call, that should I spike a fever (febrile neutropenia) or other complications, immediate action is required because of my previous histories of infections with Taxotere in the past two treatments.

Since my last Taxotere treatment, I have learned that this chemo drug and the FEC that preceded it are the strongest drugs administered in the 100-member family of chemo cocktails. They are also the most effective to treat breast cancer. Because of their potency, breast cancer patients will only ever receive FEC and Taxotere once in their lifetime in the hope that they eradicate cancer. If cancer returns, the treatment modality will involve different chemo drugs.

The chemo treatments that were once far away in months, and then weeks, are now down to days—four days from today to be precise. I am anxious, worried, scared, restless, nervous, and terrified about this last treatment. I just want the treatment and the three weeks of side effects that follow it to be over.

A thermometer to monitor my temperature, will be a constant companion during this time. Four weeks from now, I will breathe a big sigh of relief. Chemo will finally be over, rest and recuperation will be welcomed as I wait for radiation to start, likely at the top of Christmas week.


Dr. “Fabulous” and the Sixth Month Check-Up

Yesterday, I had my sixth month follow-up check up with my surgeon, whom I call “Dr. Fabulous”.

He and I have spent a fair amount of time together these past few months. We have built a good patient-doctor rapport. He was the one who tenderly broke the news to me about my cancer, prepped me for my mastectomy, did my surgery, and then treated me multiple times for the cellulitis post-surgery complication. We now stay in touch with periodic medical appointments to check my progress.

The good news is that he is pleased with how well my incision and body is healing from the mastectomy.

He is always patient, kind, reassuring, gentle, open to questions, and is never condescending. He is a doctor who looks you in the eye when he talks, and speaks candidly about one’s life in living with cancer.

“You can never rest on your laurels with breast cancer,” he said. “It’s one of those diseases that can come back even while you’re in chemotherapy, radiation, or undergoing Tamoxifen treatments. Although it’s rare that cancer will recur while in treatment, it still can. You have to be vigilant in self-exams for the rest of your life.

If anything comes up that you’re concerned about, call me at anytime. We can check it out, and if there’s nothing there then you have peace of mind. If there is something suspicious, then we can act on it quickly and early.” Dr. Fabulous. Enough said.

He noted that breast cancer patients have come back with recurrences within a couple of years, and as long as 25 years after their first diagnosis. The first few years after a diagnosis are the most critical for recurrence. As well, there is a small risk that the toxicity of chemotherapy treatments given to breast cancer patients can cause leukemia.

The clock keeps ticking to reach the time of the final chemo infusion. I am mustering every ounce of courage in me in these next 96 hours as I await my last Taxotere treatment. I boldly move forward with Strength, Courage, and Determination.