When plans change

Today feels really odd.

Based on the schedule for chemotherapy that was originally laid out, today should have been my last treatment - treatment 6 of 6. I suppose I expected to “ring the bell” today, though I must admit I wasn’t looking forward to that because I knew that finishing 6 cycles of Carbo Taxol wouldn’t be the end of the story.

But then plans changed when my ANC and my platelets went so low after the initial treatment. A three-week delay ensued. That pushed the entire schedule back, so today should have been treatment 5 of 6.

But then came the lab results and the CT scan that showed the cancer has progressed significantly since we started chemotherapy treatment in March. Words like “high histologic grade,” “progressive disease,” and “platinum resistant” now define my disease.

And so I am conflicted. The very thing I fought for seven years became the valley I willingly passed through, but I was extracted from this same valley without actually walking the full length of the path. I never envisioned this being the way the story would play out.

Part of me wishes I were at chemo this morning because that would mean it had been working, and part of me is so glad it’s over. I never believed it would work for me. That’s why I fought going this route for so long. And I was right. But it doesn’t feel good to be right in this case.

I continue to believe that there is more to be learned on this journey, and I am thankful for Biblical wisdom that reminds me today and each day, “The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives.” Psalm 37:23

None of the twists and turns on the journey have taken God by surprise.

Tomorrow, June 8, is Round 4.

To say I'm dreading tomorrow is an understatement. I already feel tired, drained. I know what tomorrow will look like, and I know how I will most likely feel the rest of this week, maybe even into next week. It’s looming.

We got in late last night from attending a wedding in Florida. I did not feel like doing anything this morning. But I got up, put on my shoes, and went for a walk around the neighborhood. There was no way I could possibly run. I don't have the energy. But I can still walk. And I remembered these wise words:

“If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

And that's what I plan to do. Keep moving forward.

April 27. Chemo Round 2. At last.

Today I had Round 2 of chemo on the day we were expecting to do Round 3. I’m so glad to finally be back on track!

I had time to do my usual morning routine before arriving at Zimmer at 8 am, first for the port lab, then the visit with Dr. Robinson, and then the infusion at 9:30. Cold capping started 50 minutes before the 1st infusion.

I started to experience nausea during the pre-infusion meds, so I was encouraged to eat a little snack provided by Zimmer. I felt like I was back in elementary school, but it was so, so good!

The prescribed amount of both Taxol and Carbo was reduced for this infusion. We’ll see if this helps my body with recovery. The worst part of the three-hour Taxol infusion was keeping my hands and feet ice cold, but this is a necessary part of preventing neuropathy, and I am thankful for these new ice packs that are far superior to what we used the first round.

The Carbo infusion lasted one hour, and we were finished just before 3 p.m.

Crystal and I were out the door by 3 pm and headed home to continue cold capping for 5 more hours.

Best part of the day? Clara and her mom and dad came to visit!

Cold capping will be over about 7:45 pm. And I can hardly wait. It’s been a long day.

Tomorrow morning at 7:45 I have a CT scan that will give better insight into why my inhibins continue to rise.

The following is an excerpt from part of my morning reading, Joyful Anyway, by Kate Bowler.