Monday, June 27, 2011

8,200 out of 9,400

As you may remember from an early entry in May, my daughter Sarah, niece Samantha, and Sarah's co-worker Kokeb entered the Warrior Dash, a 3 mile race during which many obstacles were thrown in their path - anyone for jumping over fire, climbing under barbed wire, or running through a lot of mud??  Sarah choose to do this as a fundraiser for the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation.  She raised $720 and those of us with MM are thankful.

The girls had a great time!  During the first day of the event, 9,400 participants from New England and beyond ran the race, with several hundred starting the course every half hour.  Sarah's group started at 5pm, just in time for the course to be extremely muddy!  The race started with an uphill run and ended with climbing up and over a high wall, sliding down a nasty hill, and scooting over a rope bridge.  Did the girls mind that they finished 8,200 out of the 9,400?  Not at all.  With an upbeat attitude, they said,"Hey, that means 1200 people finished after us!  We beat 1200 people!" They said it was the most fun they've ever had :-)  Enjoy the before and after pictures below!  Warrior Dash
Samantha, Sarah, and Kokeb ready to go!





Joseph, Joe, Cindy, Samantha, me, Sarah, Kokeb
The mud!
The last obstacle before the finish.
True Warriors :-)
Believe it or not, Warrior Dash collects and cleans donated
Warrior footwear to donate to charity.
Yes, cancer sucks, but events like the Warrior Dash
make it possible to make create an awareness about
Multiple Myeloma.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

99% Complete Response!

That was the good news I received from Dana-Farber today! After just 2 full rounds of treatment, followed by a half round, and just into my 4th round, I've had a great response!  So this, round 4, is my last round. Wow!!!!  No more tingling face!  No more insomnia!  No more digestive issues!

Next step in this journey: I'll be back to D-F in a few weeks (not scheduled yet) to learn more about stem cell transplant. The plan thus far is to start a new drug regimen later in July to boost the production of my good cells, so that my stem cells can be harvested a few weeks later. At some point after that, I'll head back again to D-F for the transplant. The transplant will be the scary part. I just have a basic idea of the process - you know, though, that I have been reading about it prior to today! - so I have only a general understanding of the procedure. I do know that it requires some heavy duty hair-falling-out chemo right before the transplant and then a lengthy (3 weeks) hospital stay.  Good thing my mother will be here for the summer!

And Dr. Anderson?  It was pretty clear to me why he's so well-respected.  I am grateful that I reached out to him to ask for help.

I'll keep you posted as I learn more about the transplant and the dates.  For now, I thank you for your prayers, support, and kindness.  I am continually uplifted by family and friends.  And I bow my head and give thanks to the good Lord for this blessing.

And Go Bruins!  Last game of the Stanley Cup, tonight, 8pm, NBC.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Round 4, Week 1

Week 1 of Round 4 is coming to an end and I had no chemo this week.  It seems my ANC (Absolute Neutrophil  Count) is low...again.  It was also low during Round 3, Week 2, so I had no chemo that week either.  Very, very annoying to miss 2 weeks of treatment.

The ANC is a measure of the neutrophils - a type of white blood cell - present in the blood.  Neutrophils are part of the body's infection fighting team.  If my ANC continues to drop, I'll become neutropenic and you may recall that being neutropenic gets me a 'Put on a Mask and Go Directly to Hospital, Do Not Collect $200 If You Pass Go' card.  I've picked that card twice already and I'm not picking it again, thank you very much.

I think this has to do with my diabetes again.  At the end of Round 3, Week 2, my ANC had improved, but since I was due for surgery for the port, the docs decided to skip treatment - the chemo is a real ANC buster.  I think that was a good decision.  Since the surgery (did I tell you that was not so much fun?), my ANC has remained low.  My theory:  it always takes longer for me, with diabetes, to heal and recover.  It doesn't matter if it's a cold, the flu, a scrape on my knee - it just takes longer.  So I think my ANC is taking its time to bounce back.  My doctor disagrees.  He thinks my bone marrow was battered a little too much and needs more rest time.  I agree with that, but couple it with my diabetes theory.  Either way, I hope my ANC has improved by next Tuesday, when I'm scheduled for more lab tests and chemo.

Also on the agenda for next week:  my trip to Dana-Farber on Wednesday. My appointment starts at 11am, and I think I will be there until perhaps 3pm. More blogging to come!

One more agenda item for next week:  Game 6 of the Stanley Cup finals is Monday and Game 7 (there will be a Game 7!) on Wednesday.  Both games are on NBC at 8pm.  Go Bruins!

New to Google blogger:  on the right side of this page you will find a new 'gadget' called Follow By Email.  Please enter your email address there to receive an announcement of when this blog is updated. In a week or so, I'll be deleting the Google Group I created that announced my blog updates. The Google Group was a convenient way to send updates before Google created this new gadget, but my daughter Sarah mentioned that sometimes I forget to send an update message.  Oops!!

Friday, June 3, 2011

Testing 1,2

I recently wrote this on my daughter's Facebook wall: Life is full of tests and I hope to continue to be an A student.

I've had some life tests since my diagnosis, but a few recent tests come to mind:

In an earlier entry, I mentioned that my niece Maddie was participating in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life at her school. Her team raised $3,000 and the event raised more than $95,000!! A very successful event! Maddie invited me and my family to attend the opening ceremony and we were happy to join her. Attending the event, however, was a test for which I was unprepared. As we approached the school on the day of the event, we heard the announcement that registration was closing in 15 minutes. My sister-in-law turned to me and asked if I would like to register in the survivor category and join the ceremony. Survivor??? Me??? Cancer??? Me??? I had anticipated attending a fun high school event that was organized to raise money for a very good cause and suddenly I found myself face-to-face with the cold, harsh reality of my life.  How could I be so unprepared? There were many survivors in attendance and there was talk of those who had died from various forms of cancer.  I felt numb.  I cried.  I stunned those who were with me.  In the end, I rallied and walked a lap or two around the track, feeling the comfort and love of those with me.  It's strange how I can live with cancer day in and day out, go to chemo, take my Revlimid, do everything needed to keep me healthy, and yet still have moments when I feel completely shaken to the core at the reality that I have cancer.

Grade for that test:  C (F for being unprepared + A for rallying = C)

Another life test came yesterday.  I was recalling a helpful hint a friend (and co-instructor) was giving as we were preparing students in an accelerated graduate course for an upcoming test that required considerable reading. She said that you can get the gist of a reading if you read the first line or two of a paragraph and the last line or two of a paragraph throughout the reading. You don't come away with a thorough understanding of the material, but you get...well, you get the gist of the material. This came to mind as I was resting at the one day surgery center, where I had a port implanted under my skin. (My picc line was removed a week or so ago). In preparing for having yet another medical device in my body, - yes, a life test - I spoke with the nurses and a few friends who, in the past, have had ports. I read the first few lines of these verbal paragraphs:

"It's wonderful to have a port, so much easier" and "There is a little discomfort when the port is first implanted."

Then I read the last few lines:

"Take it easy especially today and tomorrow" and "Don't do much of anything other than rest" and "Here's a prescription for Vicodin."

Vicodin??  It was pretty easy to get the gist: the port will be great after it hurts like hell. Ouch!

Grade for this test:  A for accepting a new medical device in my body, A for taking it easy and getting rest, B+ for whining about the soreness.

Round 4 of chemo starts Monday.  I am anticipating good lab test results and then I will get an A for celebrating!