Where I Visit the Hospital (Again)

The pity party is over and we’re back to business as usual on the cancer front – we will continue to look for new solutions and will not give up the fight. I don’t intend to die any time soon.

While visiting my oncologist for our weekly checkup, we talked more about pain management. I have recently been increasing my dosages of intermittent pain meds because the breakthrough pain has been increasing steadily. This, evidently, is a result of my new vertebral cancer spots. I got some new IV meds, which took away the pain very well, which they then recalculated into pill format. New breakthrough meds were all set and I went home. The new stuff worked at 7pm and at 1am.

Then I woke up uncomfortable at about 3:30, which progressed to pain by 4. My next dose of breakthrough meds wasn’t scheduled until 7, so I was concerned. I tried a hot shower and heating pads, different chairs, nothing worked. Finally, I broke down and took more meds an hour early at 5:00. By 5:30, they should have kicked in. Should have. So at 7:30, we ditched the youngest at a neighbor and headed down to the hospital. I called my oncologist on her mobile and told her the situation and she said she’d meet me at the cancer center ASAP. When I arrived, I got a chair and an IV and we started the Pain Management Process. Eventually, I checked into the hospital for another overnight stay.

On the plus side, my pain is down to nothing. On the minus side, I don’t know which of the drugs is working or when I’ll be leaving. I kind of need to know because I have an MRI scheduled for this evening. And I need to reschedule a second opinion with Dana Farber, which I missed yesterday.

At least things are moving forward, which is a Good Thing. The Next Steps: keeping the pain down to zero, getting back to work (aka Normalcy), choosing my next treatment, oh, and killing my cancer.

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Bad News Seems to Follow Me Around

And here I was thinking things were going well: I did my fourth dose of ipilimumab, my second dose of Zometa and I had an appointment to deal with my back pain. I had a spinal MRI on Monday morning, with a call back for a consult for a vertebroplasty of my T7. On Tuesday, I had another PET scan. On Wednesday, I went in for a vertebroplasty – basically, they injected lucite into my fractured vertebra to stop the pain. Thursday was a nice day to sleep and recover from a crazy week. Then came Friday.

When your oncologist asks if any of the other doctors who’ve seen you over the week has said anything about your MRI or PET scan, you know it’s a bad day. Evidently, during my ten weeks of treatment, my cancer spread like wildfire up and down my spine. Ipilimumab didn’t have any effect on my cancer.

So where am I now? I believe my life is now measured in months (no one has said how many, but there are no more approved treatments). I’m trying to get into an NIH study and I’m getting more radiation to alleviate the back pain. I’m maintaining my positive attitude until the bitter end, which I hope will be 40 years from now. We won’t tell the kids until after Christmas; no sense in ruining a last, happy memory.

Right now, all I want to do is crawl in a hole and cry. But I won’t. I can’t. The past two days have truly sucked, but I’ll be better by Monday. Then I can go back to having hopes and dreams.