DISCLAIMER:

DISCLAIMER: I reserve the right to curse on this blog. If you are offended, too f$%&ing bad. As a result, content might not be appropriate for small children.

Also, my spelling is terrible ... even with spell check. I apologize in advance for any errers.






Thursday, February 16, 2012

The Plan

Chris and I flew to Boston Tuesday night and then back home Wednesday.



Our flight was our Valentine's Day Date.

I was a nervous wreck about seeing the doctor. But we've been trying to distract ourselves. Honestly, though, I was anxious to get to the doctor's office, hear what he had to say and make a plan.

Dr. Goldstein in a kind looking man. White hair, he wore a pink shirt (I still can't get Chris in a pink shirt), and a bow tie. He graduated from medical school in 1965. You do the math. And yet, he is sharp and smart and quick.
Click to see his profile

We tried to get him as much information as possible ahead of time. Chris wrote a clear one-page summary of my medical history. It read like Greek to me, but I know it is helpful to have a husband who speaks Greek.

Dr. Goldstein believes this is not another pregnancy gone awry, but a recurrence of the first disease. He says the molar pregnancy from 2008 lodged itself in the wall of my uterus and created a tumor of scar tissue. He believes this is still the source of the cancer. It's creating cancer cells that are moving and lodging in my lungs.
Read The Wikipedia Article on Trophoblastic Disease

This is the treatment plan: "aggressive" chemotherapy for several months. In 2009, I was given a single agent chemo (1 drug) intramuscular (shot in the ass). For recurring cancer, he suggests 5 agent chemotherapy. We start Tuesday, February 21st.

I will have a medi-port implanted under my skin on Monday, 2/20. I didn't know that required a surgery and anesthesia, but it does. We will do all our treatment here in Lancaster at Dr. Evans office. She runs Cancer Care for Women and can administer chemo in her office. I will get more info as the days go on, but there's a chance I have to sit for an 11 hour chemo infusion on Tuesdays. Can you imagine, 11 hours?!? I'll go mad. On the upside, I have 47 books on my bedside stand that I have the intention of reading someday. I could start in on those.

Dr. Goldstein says he doesn't expect me to be as sick as I was in 2009. Apparently there are antidotes to some of the chemo (sounds so superhero-ish) that keep the side effects at bay. He says I will likely be nauseous, feel fatigued and I'll lose my hair. Ugh. I'm gonna be bald.

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