Infusion Day

WOW! Thank you all so much for all the prayers and support! I can now walk around saying "Sorry, I can't change that diaper, I'm dedicated to my readers. I must write". 

One chemo down, five to go! It was a blast! No, not really. But I did it! I had my first chemo infusion last Wednesday, February 10.  I popped four bags of chemo, as we like to say at my house, and it was everything I thought it might be and more. Taxotere, Carboplatin, Herceptin, and Perjeta. Don't google unless you REEEAALLY want to know all the things. We were there from 7:45am to about 4:00; the first infusion takes the longest as they have to titrate the medicines to get enough of a bump into my system and do AALL the other things. It was a very odd feeling, having cell killing medicine pumped through my heart. I brought Charlie and Cooper's baby delivery hats that they wore when they were born at the hospital and laid them on my lap. FYI - you can't bring your kids to a chemo infusion, just so you know, it's frowned upon. I hated leaving the boys that morning, especially leaving before Charlie had woken up. But I carry them with me in my heart everywhere I go. I told Charlie that the night before my infusion and pointed to his heart to which he replied, "Silly mommy, that's not a heart, that's a moose!" Referring to the moose pajamas he was wearing. We got a text from my mom that morning that Charlie had accidentally locked himself in our bedroom. LOLZ. OF COURSE HE DID. Once she got the door open, he was sitting smack in the middle of our bed with his hands behind his head. Oh, Charlie. I took that as, don't worry mom, we got this. I had started some pre-meds the day before and then started with some baseline lab work that morning. My counts were good, the highest they will be for a long while. My nurse Jill prepped me for the day. I signed my informed consent. 

I must take this opportunity to say how utterly inspired I am by all of the healthcare professionals I have come across in the oncology world. Truly. I have met the most caring, empathetic, smartest, kindest, compassionate people through this mess. Every single person has cared for me like I'm their sister. It is such a comfort. And let me tell you, those first days after diagnoses are horrible. There are SO many questions and so many unknowns and every single person played a part in helping me navigate it. My care team consists of my amazing oncologist Dr. Virginia Borges, who started the Young Women's Breast Cancer Clinic at the University of Colorado. She specializes in young women's breast cancer and pregnancy related breast cancer and heads the Borges Research Lab. She's a bulldog and WICKED smaht. She went to Harvard AND MIT, we have a Boston connection. How do you like them apples! Sorry, I'll stop.  Her and her lovely nursing staff, my breast surgeon Dr. Colleen Murphy (also ahhmazing) and her nursing staff, my plastic and reconstructive surgeon, all their PA's, infusion team, nurse navigator, nutritionist, social worker, radiation oncologist, physical and occupational therapists, and nurse navigator make up my care team. My imaging techs who I also have become quite familiar with. Every. single. person. is incredible. Thank you. I'm indebted to you. 

Back to the infusion, I got a little nauseous but on the whole we were able to control symptoms. The worst part of the day was actually the contraption I decided to wear on my head to preserve my hair follicles from permanent hair loss, the Digni cap or "stupid" cap as I've coined (sorry Dignigap, thaaanks). My doctor voted that I wear it to guard against permanent hair loss that can happen in a percentage of people taking my drug regime however it will not guard against short term hair loss from the Taxotere. So, let me tell you about this thing....first my nurse wet my hair down in the sink, (BTW, I cut my hair off! it's ok...) then combed it (she went to beauty oncology school, it's new) then they took the cap--think ice packs perfectly molded to your head-- and wrapped it, *quite snuggly* to my head and here's the kicker, **plugged it into the air conditioning unit**. YES, YOU HEARD ME RIGHT. THEY PLUGGED MY HEAD INTO AN AIR CONDITIONING UNIT!!* It was cold. I'd say Lake Tahoe in February cold. You have to sit like that for 30 minutes on blast on until your head is so frozen you can't think and THEN you GET to start the chemo. You wear the cap the entire infusion aka allll daaaay. Apparently, the cold feeling kind of tapered off, I wouldn't know.  The cold stops the absorption of the chemo into my hair follicles. I can't say I didn't utter some non-Charlie approved words. Talk about adding insult to injury, I looked so bloody stupid and felt stupid but stupid is as stupid does. I wondered, how is this a thing?! I've concluded, it's just going to be another one of those things I get through. No pain, no ro(gaine). I just fist pumped on that one. 

Michael ordered us cheesecake factory for lunch. If you know me, you know I don't turn down a meal but that was the WORST cheesecake factory I've ever tasted. Sorry, Cheesecake Factory, your butter is always too COLD! For the love! Stop giving us butter icicles! I think I digress again. Michael sat with me for every minute and smiled at me and told me it was going to be OK and gave me a kiss on my frozen nose while I sat under my electric blanket and headphones over my cap. My nurse checked on me frequently at the ready with remedies. A lot of fuss over little me. Each bag took 60 to 90 minutes to finish. I passed the time by looking at pictures of the boys, listening to music and just trying to breathe through it. 

We finished off the chemo poppin' with an injection to my ovary to stop and hopefully preserve it's function throughout the chemo process. I was sent home with a Neulasta machine thingy attached to me to dose out a med at the exact right time to help stimulate the growth of white blood cells in my bone marrow. White blood cells help our body fight infection. IT WAS A DAY. We walked out of there champions! We went and ate a full on Mexican fiesta after that. Just kidding, no we didn't. I went home feeling shaky and v. wierd but happy to see my boys. 

One quick aside, my chemo had been originally slated to start Monday, February 8 but the Thursday before that my oncologist called saying my cancer count lab was abnormally high for what they usually see for breast cancer. She wanted to get a brain MRI and PET scan. She didn't feel comfortable proceeding with chemo until we fully knew what we were dealing with.  Ooof. That was a kick to the gut. I tried my darndest to get all the imaging the following day but it wasn't to be. So we sat with that all weekend. Holding the terrible and the beautiful in the same hand. Dr. Borges nurse called me to check on me and I basically asked her point blank if we were going to find more cancer. She reiterated that we wouldn't expect the count to be that high, she wanted to be positive but they were also somewhat preparing me. My chemo had been taken off the books which I was super upset about. I need a plan! I can't just sit here and do nothing, I thought. God has a way of taking MY plans and changing my heart to His. Monday morning, we went for all the imaging starting with brain MRI followed by PET scan. Michael drove me, we were scared but once I got there experienced peace which surpasses all understanding. My fears told me I had a brain tumor. God told me "quiet, trust." That afternoon, Dr. Borges called me, "Well Tara, I ordered every test in the book on you and I can't find any other cancer in your body!" She said that was the best news she had given that day.  The high lab was attributed to the amount of cancer in my breast and lymph nodes but no evidence of metastasis throughout the body. I can't tell you the joy I felt after that call. Cooper was facing me on my knees during that call and we fist pumped Jesus. More than that. We praised Jesus.

Tata's for now, 

Tara

Hot hubby alert

The "stupid" cap

"Vitamins"

"THEY PLUGGED MY HEAD INTO AN AIR CONDITIONING UNIT!!"

Short hair don't care! I swear I'm not a brunette!