I'm Still Here! (Post #52)

 

I really enjoy bird-watching and was delighted 

when this House Finch stopped by.

"Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. 

And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are?"

Matthew 6:26

It's been over five months since I last posted, and way past time to catch you up! As I mentioned at the end of my last blog post, I have been kept rather busy with various medical appointments. Let's dive in, there's a lot of time to cover!

I had a hearing test on July 12. Before chemo, I had my hearing tested, as multiple really bad ear infections in my teen years resulted in burst eardrums and scarring. At that time, I was in the "a hearing aid might be helpful" group. Unfortunately, after my second chemo infusion, my family noticed a marked reduction in my hearing, as did I. "Pardon me, pardon me, pardon me?" got old rather quickly. The recent test demonstrated that my hearing was worse, and I would benefit from a hearing aid. Not news I wanted to hear (ha! get it?) but thankfully, it has since improved and I think I'm back to my pre-chemo "only slightly deaf" status. 😊 So, only one "Pardon me?" required. 

From the side, the hearing aids are not very noticeable. 

But when I turn my head...😑 

On July 17, I had my first post-treatment mammogram and ultrasound. This was a rather unpleasant experience...in the way that a tornado is a slight breeze. Oh. My. 😖 I'm sure you've heard the clichés: "It's where they turn a cup into a saucer!" "Getting a mammogram is like wrestling with a giant pancake maker!" Well, mine was a crepe maker. Obviously, this wasn't my first mammogram and I'd never found them painful in the past, but I had this one done at the Cross, and for some funny reason, they're rather particular. 😬 The good thing about having it done there, is that they understand the scanxiety that goes along with having the test that started you on your whole cancer journey, and will have a radiologist look at both your mammogram and ultrasound then give you a preliminary result before you leave. My results were negative, which is a huge positive. 😊

The next day, Ken and I headed to one of our favourite campgrounds in Cold Lake. Yes, we watched the fighter jets take off and land, yes, I fan-girled as usual, and yes, it was a wonderful break. While we were there, I had a phone appointment with my cardio oncologist, Dr. Gynes. He basically told me that I would probably be fine and if not, he'd see me again, otherwise, have a nice life. Don't get me wrong, he was super nice, but apparently, the echocardiogram machines are very sensitive and the techs will sometimes overcall things, so he was not concerned. Phew! That made my day!! 

Meet Freddy, not to be confused with his twin brother Eddy, or 

his girlfriend, Betty. Freddy was NOT shy; here he is on the step of our RV, 

begging for a snack. 

I saw my radiation oncologist, Dr. Paulson, on July 28. She was pleased with my recovery and gave me my walking papers. Literally. It's a stack of papers that tell you what to expect, now that you're done treatment. It was a slightly surreal feeling, knowing that I may never see her again. Well, that's what we both hope. 😁

On August 1, I had two appointments. First, I had a meet and greet with my new family doctor since I put my former doctor into retirement. (No, my new doctor is not taking new patients, sorry; I think she filled her practice within 2 weeks!) She is wonderful and didn't run screaming from the room when I relayed the events of the past 15 months, always a good sign. I then saw the eye doctor who gave me very good news. Despite being closer to 50 than 45, I do not need progressives...yet. My eyes were negatively affected during chemo, but as promised, they have improved. I still needed a new prescription, but it's not as big a change as I'd feared. 

August 9 was the date of my latest, and hopefully last echocardiogram. When the results of my echo showed up in my MyChart app, I was delighted with all the green! Below are my results from my echo in May.

Now every figure is completely green, and the last line of the report for my latest echo is much better news: 

Overall, compared to the prior study done on May 16, 2023, the wall motion abnormalities have resolved and the global longitudinal strain has improved.

I was hoping to get my walking papers from Dr. Zhu, my oncologist, when I saw him on August 16, alas, that thinking was a bit premature. Because I am taking Letrozole, an aromatase inhibitor that suppresses estrogen synthesis, I need to take precautions against developing osteoporosis, one of the side effects. I was given the choice of taking a daily pill or having an infusion every 6 months. Taking the pill will not work for me, as you're not supposed to take it with any other medications, nor eat within a couple of hours of ingestion. As I wake up hungry and eat all day long, that's not an option. Dr. Zhu suggested taking it first thing in the morning, but I explained to him that nothing/no one gets between me and the kitchen upon waking; Hangry Heather is not someone you want to meet! 

So what is this infusion? It's called zoledronic acid, also known as zoledronate, and belongs to a classification of drugs called bisphosphonates. The purpose of the drug is to prevent osteoporosis by slowing the release of calcium from your bones into your bloodstream. However, there's a bonus! It also coats the bones, reducing the chances of bone metastases, something that automatically puts you at Stage 4. Again, I'm in awe of the people who come up with these ideas and am so grateful that these therapies are not only available but are covered by healthcare.  

At my oncologist's appointment, I was asked about my energy level. I personally think that I'm not quite back to where I'd like to be, however, my family thinks I'm not being very realistic, but am misremembering my former accomplishments. I can see that this might be true, as I've canned more this year than I have in at least a decade, but then again, when I was in Hinton recently, I was planning to get together with a dear friend and instead, had a morning nap, an afternoon nap and then dozed all evening! So while I'm definitely able to push myself further than in the past, I still need to allow myself a little extra recuperation time.

It took a couple of months for them to arrive, but I haven't completely escaped the side effects of Letrozole, though it's amazing what your body can get used to. The hot flushes simply mean that I have quite a wide range of pajamas, from "I'm so cold!" to "Ugh, I do believe I'm well done." One side effect that is a bit of a pain, literally, is myalgia. It's how I imagine most 93-year-old farmers might feel. Once I get moving, the pain and stiffness go away, but those first ~10 steps look rather pitiful. I've developed ways of disguising this in public, so if you see me stand up and either rummage in my purse or appear engrossed in something on my phone, I'm just letting my muscles adjust to the new position. Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks! 😄  

I recently had some intermittent heart palpitations like when someone jumps out and yells "Boo!" but Dr. Smiley, whom I saw at the Cancer Care Clinic, didn't seem very concerned. I have noticed that they're worse on days when I really push it, so maybe it's a warning system? 😄 They've largely resolved now that I'm not canning like a Prepper. 

I recently reached a goal I set during chemo; I now get bedhead! It's rather hilariously riotous, as my chemo curls are reminiscent of Little Bo Beep. If you've seen me recently, you know that I'm rather blond. As in platinum blond. I've been asked if this is my natural color, to which I respond with an emphatic "Yes." And it kinda' is...well, on the sides of my head, that is. As I shared previously, my hair grew back in a reverse skunk pattern, where it's white at my temples, and a mousy greyish brown mixed with plenty of grey on the top. That's not a look I'm fond of, so I'm blond. It's honestly just going back to my toddler days, as evidenced below. 👶 Funny story...a friend asked me why I'd "cut my hair so short." Her confusion when I told her that this was long compared to previously was comical. She didn't realize that I'd lost all my hair and had been wearing a wig! You know your wig is good when...

I'm not sure what I'm smirking about, but I do look very pleased with myself!

Slightly curlier now. 😊

I'm not trying to be dramatic or "click-baity" with the title of this blog post, there's a story behind that phrase. As part of my preparation for chemo, I purchased several cancer-related t-shirts, because, well, you're supposed to dress for the job you want, right? Oh, wait. 😏 While perusing one of the online shops, I saw a t-shirt with the phrase "Nice try - I'm still here" together with the pink ribbon representing breast cancer. At the time I scoffed, thinking "What a negative t-shirt. I'd never wear one of those!" Yeah, well, I'm not judging anymore. No, Negative Nelly hasn't finally achieved the upper hand, Pollyanna is still alive and well; some days are simply not quite as fun as others, which is true for all of us.

When people ask me how I'm doing, my usual response is "I'm doing well." And I am! Most days. Am I back to "normal?" No. I miss the innocence of pre-cancer life, when not every headache made me wonder about brain metastases, or when jumping up from the couch didn't require forethought. But that's okay, truly, because I'm still here. And most days, that's enough, because God is still good, even when life isn't.