Cookie Monster

Okay, so here's another reason to dislike my previous oncologist: she never sent ANY paperwork to EITHER my primary care physician OR my gynecologist. You know, the woman who FOUND the tumor -- did she bother to send her any info? Nah. Nada. None. Zero. Zippo. Zilch.

This resulted in the following conversation with my GP during my annual physical today:

How are you? How've things been going?

Well, doctor, it's been kind of sucky for the past 6 months, you know.

Why is that?

Well, the chemo is really not so fun, as you can imagine.

What chemo? Wait... wait... WHAT?!

[I fill him in on stuff.]

Well I would have at least CALLED you if I had known!

Oh.

Yeah, since I've been seeing him for over a decade and he's a pretty nice guy, he WOULD have called... IF he had known! Argh.

I mean, my file HAS all of my doctor info, as my new oncologist's office confirmed when I called them this afternoon to request that they send copies of the various pathology and treatment reports to my GP and gyn. So the other onco simply NEVER THOUGHT TO CONTACT THEM. Yep, a real people person, that one.

But enough about confirmation why it was a good thing I switched. Here is another perverse example of why my boob cancer IS just like being pregnant... except with a tumor, and not a baby.

Today, I had a uterine sonagram, complete with an internal view, except instead of a fetus, they were looking for more tumors and/or cysts. (It's part of the new oncologist's "step back/review" to see if there's anything else going on, since I had been having so many fevers... a streak which seems to have ended with this chemo cycle! Woohoo!) It reminded me of my friends who are expecting, but their trips to the radiology department are fun experiences, where they get to see baby XY (or XX) swimming around. The technician agreed it is a much more positive atmosphere in the obstetrics unit, whereas well, the news is usually not so cheery in oncology. (Perhaps it pays better and that's why she switched? Dunno. Didn't ask.)

Actually, it's fascinating to see a grainy B&W view of the INSIDE of your body... the squishy wet,red view on The Learning Channel is kinda freaky, but this is different.

Speaking of visuals, here is a shot of the remains of the dearly departed Hong Kong Supermarket which burned down to the ground earlier this month. (Bonus round: it was across the street from a gas station, so the 5 hour blaze resulted in MANY fire trucks doing their thing.) *sniff* The entire side of the block and street are blocked off from traffic until everything is demolished and removed, since both the market and the building next door (the source of the fire) collapsed.

The place had everything you could possibly imagine if you needed Chinese groceries. There were Chinese families who drove in from the suburbs on the weekends to go shopping there. It's been there for over 20 years, so I really hope they rebuild...

And speaking fo fun food, I leave you with this photo of batch 1 of 3 of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies I made tonight, most of which are dedicated to my coworkers, since I seem to be out about once a week this year! Batch one is a plain chocolate chip oatmeal cookie, while batch 2 had dried cherries added, and batch 3 had golden raisins instead.

Crossing my fingers

Could it be? I am almost afraid to hope... but... it appears that I may be skipping my regularly scheduled fever for this round of chemo! YES!!!

Normally, yesterday or today would be when I'd start to feel like road pizza and wind up in the ER with a 101 temp, but so far, so good. And that is all I want to say about it, for fear I'll jinx it.

Perhaps my friend Brian's good luck gift of the jade bracelet is working!

Other than that, this past weekend was bbq-fest 2009, with yummy food at my engineer's parents' home on Saturday, followed by a pool party bbq where I made a bean salad, after raiding my sweetie's mom pantry: chick peas, kidney beans, shoepeg corn, diced green bell pepper & onion, butter beans, and dressed with dijon mustard, a teensy bit of olive oil, red/apple cider/white/and rice wine vinegars and a whopping bunch of chopped fresh cilantro. My engineer's mom liked it enough that I left her a bowful, and borrowed her Tupperware to bring to my friend's party on Sunday.

I covet these fabulous old-school Tupperware bowls. They work by pressing the square in the middle of the lid, which creates the suction/seal. However, I have honorably left the leftovers at my engineer's apartment, for future return to his mom.


I did remember to call my friend Joel in DC and mention that I am glad he is an honoree of Veteran's Day and NOT Memorial Day!

And now, my lunch hour is over, but I leave you with some actual knitting: a baby chemo hat for my friend Judy's younger son Alan. The poor sweetie is going through chemo and unlike yours truly, has lost all his hair. Enter: Filatura do Crosa Baby Zarina Merino (i.e., machine washable). I am severely tempted to make him a looooong stocking hat, as he is currently too young to protest female wardrobe decisions. ;-P

Choose to be Amused

Okay, I admit it: I love my view. I'm a sucker for it, and will never, ever get tired of staring out my window. [*Happy sigh*]

Of course, my mom's view ain't too shabby either. And I had better get going SOON before she has a cow (I'm going to stay over there tonight).

I could tell that it was time for a (almost) weekly visit because she was getting cranky when I called last night. I mean, what else do you call it when an 80 year old rePlies to your comments with, "WhatEVER."

Just wanted to share the photo and today's horriblescope, which I found vastly amusing:

You might as well acknowledge upfront that you won't be able to do everything that you planned today. Your calendar is so stuffed with meetings and errands and work that one tiny slip will be enough to take down your entire schedule. Don't fight it by trying to keep everything on track; you'll feel a lot better once you let go of your control and admit that you're human.

That's sort of related to an incident this afternoon where someone sent a stunningly snippy, whiny e-mail to us playing the martyr because we hadn't gotten back to him within a day. Sorry, but half the staff + same amount of work = time lag. Deal with it. Jeez.

Anyway, his e-mail was just so spectacularly whiny that one of my coworkers thought we were making it up! And they claim WOMEN have moody days. Sheesh.

Really, fella, it is NOT "all about you". Get some therapy already or something and get over yourself.

Actually, it didn't bother me overly much because (a) it wasn't addressed to me specifically, (b) I chose to laugh at his insane level of insecurity, and (c) I observed that if any of the children in our various families behaved this way, they would have gotten a good smack (or in these seriously PC days, merely a Very Firm Talking To).

In fact, I felt positively entertained by the whole thing because I made 2 of my co-workers snort with laughter (really, it's quite gratifying to make someone literally cry with laughter -- when it's on purpose) over my snarky [unsent] reply to Mr. Snippy.

All because after contemplating the writer's truly astounding self-absorbed sniveling, I merely muttered (sotto voce, because the Diversity Police would slap me with a fine) "Hmmm...I'm very sorry to hear about the size of his pe***."

And on THAT note, I'd better scoot before my mom gives me a Very Firm Talking To for being late.

People are nice

So last night I hung out with my boob buddies: the other ladies in the adjuvant therapy support group. It was held at one of the ladies' homes, a beautiful townhouse on a peaceful tree-lined street a few blocks away from Stuyvesant Town.

She had a pair of Rhodesian ridgebacks, a breed of ridiculously cute (but seriously large) dogs which are good with children. (My older niece, the one with 2 little boys, has a sweet female one too.)

It was neat to hang out with everyone in a more relaxed setting than the hospital, and the amount of food...! See the cupcake I brought home? Now imagine an entire tray of dozen plus, in addition to numerous, NUMEROUS other dishes of hummus, babaganoush, crudites, cookies, cheese & fruit... you get the idea. [*burp*] And I think of these ladies as my mentors, since they've gone through much, MUCH more aggressive treatments than I have.

Speaking of nice people, my friend Brian and his wife brought me a jade bracelet from Beijing when they were visiting his family in Brooklyn last week. Isn't it beautiful? There are some Chinese beliefs that wearing jade promotes good health, and my mom says some Chinese believe it protects you from injuries.

I was very touched by their thoughtfulness and have been wearing it every day -- and hoping I don't chip or break it since I am rather hard on my jewelry, having grown up a tomboy. If wearing a seamless piece of jade promotes good health, I don't want to know what happens if I break one!

Okay, it's really late, so I will post a more detailed update soon, but the key points are:

• today was chemo round #4 out of 8 (Yes! 50% done!)
  
• I really like my new oncologist and her team
• bought a supercheap ($65 with tax!) portable DVD player to replace the fried CD player so I can listen to audiobooks during chemo and/or watch movies (having a catheter stuck in my right arm for an hour precludes much moving around, even to flipping pages)
• the chemo nurse du jour was really nice (but then, this seems to be the norm in their chemo unit)
• am scheduled for an abdominal ultrasound on the 27th, in case my appendix is causing all of the fevers
• will be scheduled for the BRCA gene mutation test (I told you I like the new doctor!)

RTBT: friends who give you good health charms, nice oncologists, chocolate cupcakes and boob buddies!

Abracadabra

Okay, I'm weird. I admit it. Those of you who know me well (and really, who the hell would be reading this is they didn't?) will know that sometimes odd things catch my eye (especially since I've been blogging consistently), or tickle my sense of humor. So it will not surprise you (probably) to see what stopped me cold upon my recent visit to the E.R.

Yes, once again, I developed a 100.9 degree fever, thus earning me a trip to the Urgent Care Center to get my blood counts tested. I was hoping to avoid it, especially since my temperature hovered around 100.2 - 100.4 for a few hours on Tuesday, but once it spiked at 100.9 I couldn't in good conscience avoid calling my new oncology team, since there is, after all, a very valid reason for them to order me off to the ER when I have a high temperature and fever and chills. (Oh, I also had tingling hands -- a not unknown side effect of CMF apparently -- and nausea. Yay. Not.)

Yep, I staggered out of the office on Tuesday afternoon, right before lunch (my coworker Julia wisely pointed out that I should leave while I felt ill but before I felt incapacitated) and came home and huddled under the comforter. It seems a consistent pattern that I fall prey to this fever thing each cycle somewhere on the 10th - 15th day. Joy. So if I periodically fall off the face of the planet -- no reply to cellphone, e-mail, no blogging, etc. -- you can be pretty sure I am laid up or too wiped out to deal with the electronic world.

My poor sweetie felt horribly guilty because he did not get my message that I was heading off to the hospital until he was already home across the river in NJ (ah, wireless communication -- it only works ABOVEground). Luckily, I was able to draft my friend Marci into waiting at the ER with me, and boy was it a long wait that night.

The actual blood tests and staging into the triage area (the place where you wait for the doctors, after you leave the reception area) went relatively quickly (in an hour!) but then the triage stage took almost 5 hours.

Why so long you ask? Well, I was unlucky enough to hit the shift change and then I needed to wait for X-rays (they wanted to make sure my occasional abdominal pains and fever did not have some visible cause). But while we were waiting -- Marci working away on her netbook (absolving me of some guilt) and me, dozing/passed out on the gurney with an IV drip -- we were both amazed by this ingenious contraption in my room.

During flu season, they are apparently overrun in the ER (not surprisingly) and I lucked out with this isolation room... with a super funky convertible loo! I made poor Marci take photos so that I could share my amusement (and our joint amazement) at this jump seat / toilet. (The little flap door held the TP, which you can just see peeking around the edge.) As a native Manhattanite, even I was impressed by the clever use of space here: dual functionality -- the WC and extra seating! -- with a curtain for a modicum of privacy even.

By 11pm, I was finally dressed and out of the ER, and our cab dropped Marci off at home and then me, after which I proceeded to sleep for 12 hours (did not go to work on Wednesday -- again [*sigh*]), get up, have some cereal, and then nap for another 2 hours.

My cabbies to and from the hospital were both very nice and/or amusing. (When I am feeling this knackered, I spring for cabs to and from the hospital instead of battling with the MTA.) My engineer pointed out that most NYC cabbies have quite the interesting stories and/or personality, which is pretty true. (He came over for dinner last night [ain't delivery grand?] and some quiet time catching up [yay!] proving once again, that he has been swell throughout this endless process.)

The cabbie to the hospital was very friendly and sweet. Upon hearing that I had boob cancer (he asked why in particular I was going to the cancer hospital) he said that was very upsetting, which surprised me -- after all, he didn't even know my name. But he explained that the idea was very distressing to anyone who has a mother, sister, wife, or daughter. I was touched.

He also asked the inevitable "where are you [is your family] from?" questions and I found out that he was Senegalese, whereupon I asked him which of the Senegalese restaurants he recommended in my neighborhood. (For the record, he promptly suggested Africa Kine which I intend to try out with my sweetie once my stomach is happier with life -- of course, this may be in August!)

My cabbie home from the hospital started discussing real estate with me when he discovered where I lived. (He owns a co-op in Jackson Heights, Queens and was displeased with the high maintenance/common charges. Heh.)

Come to think of it, the other night coming home late from my engineer's place [his apartment is still in the midst of gut renovation hell...yikes], I had a poor guy who had JUST started working as a NYC taxi driver. I was his third passenger! I knew he had to be a novice because he did not know where my building was...and I live on a numbered street! He was very grateful for my patient instructions.

Okay, my alarm has gone off (and the jackhammers outside my building have started), so that tells me it's time to go get ready for work. Ciao!

The Itchy and Scratchy Show

Purty, no? This is the street outside my sweetie's building, full of lushly blooming trees. To the right is a pocket park, a la Bryant Park or Tompkins Square Park (hey, in an urban area, you do what you can). And just like Tompkins Square Park's history, you would never know from looking at it that when he moved in over a decade ago, that loud bang outside was NOT the sound of a car backfiring... At the moment, this particular leafy green park is actually closed for renovations, and as with all municipal projects in any city, who knows when it will re-open?

Actually, it's kind of peaceful without all of the various inhabitants (children, dogs, skateboarders, boomboxes, etc.) who/which normally hang out there until all hours of the night, so we're enjoying the peace and quiet when the windows are open to catch the spring breeze.

Or I should say, the spring breeze and tree pollen. See how close this tree is to his window? And that's just ONE tree. You see the others in the photo above, no? So although the Decadron seems to have protected me from the enormous expanse of greenery in Central Park, it appears a little overwhelmed by the sheer proximity to this park, since the trees are RIGHT there, literally next to his window. Either that, or these varieties are more itch-inducing. Oops.

Still the itching in my throat and eyes is way better than most years, so I'm not too bothered. Hopefully, it will stay that way. And on the whole, this chemo cycle (so far -- knock on wood) seems much better than the last, for which I am PROFOUNDLY grateful.

I am hoping that this means what my PoW told me about her experience also holds true for me: each cycle is different and the body will behave unpredictably across cycles. So just because round 2 was horrible, doesn't mean round 3 will be the same. And so on, and so forth. Hoorah! (Since I am typing, I can't cross my fingers at the moment, but my ankles are crossed. Does that count?)

So I'm also hoping that this means I will feel perky enough to attend the traditional end of semester party this Tuesday at the pottery studio... which I haven't been to since before the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday! My teacher invited me, since I may be (temporarily) gone but not forgotten by the gang there. I plan on attending classes again at some point, but it feels so removed, in the sense that it's sort of from the "BC period" and well, this year my life has been all about the "AD" period.

On to more lighthearted topics, I like this mug I saw in some store window. Now that's MY kind of math! Although really, I am happy to still have a job -- especially these days! -- and one that I actually like and enjoy, with people who are supportive about my health issues (and consequent occasional absences). Yes, I know I've said it before, but I (superstitiously and gratefully) think it never hurts to say it again.

Whoops! -- I just remembered a project I was supposed to have worked on over the weekend! DOH! We're a bit behind, what with the same volume of work but half the staff as last year. Oh well. Better that way than the reverse: idle time = "so why are we still paying you folks again?"

And now, I leave you with another pretty view from my sweetie's area of Jersey City, since I had better get to bed so that I can get a decent amount of sleep prior to getting up for said job in the morning.

Slackertude

So despite my inability to sleep like a normal person (I either sleep round the clock, or wake up early, as in: before sunrise) I feel like freshly baked road pizza today, and not like day old road pizza. (Believe it or not, this is an improvement. Really.)

That being the case, my pitiful amount of sleep from last night still allowed me to appreciate my view, which I will never, EVER, grow tired of... And it also proved that the Decadron is good for something besides weight gain and insomnia. I mean, just LOOK at all that wildly green growing stuff, and I'm not sneezing my head off!

After I crawled out of bed this morning, I enjoyed one of the singular pleasures of living in NYC: a fabulous "health grain" bagel from Murray's Bagels, which I had bought Thursday night. (The whole wheat everything had long since bitten the dust. Next up for tomorrow: multigrain!) Oh. So. Good. And since they've been making bagels for 103 years, I think they're allowed to experiment with a few "newfangled" varieties such as these. (No, they do not make abominations such as blueberry bagels, etc.)

The wine cork [lonely and abandoned from weeks and months ago] is there to provide scale. Heh. It was gigantic enough to provide 4 portions so that I could experiment with different toppings: Bonne Maman blackberry preserves over (1/3 less fat) Philly cream cheese, crunchy Arrowhead Mills Organic Valencia Peanut Butter, naked 1/3 lighter Philly, and Philly with Bionaturae organic strawberry fruit spread. I *heart* Bonne Maman, which my sweetie first introduced me to -- it doesn't cost that much more than Smuckers or whatever, but worlds better in taste. Yum!

This was after I spent over an hour tackling the mountain of dirty pots, pans, and dishes in my kitchen while listening to Sounds of China on WKCR, so I felt entitled to a leisurely, carbo-heaven brunch. Coincidentally, SOC finished during my munching, and Across 110th Street came on, so that pretty much sums up the music I heard growing up near NYC's Chinatown: traditional Chinese music + soul/funk. (If you ever wondered why I have never heard Led Zeppelin or Jethro Tull till college, well, I didn't grow up around many white folk, 'kay? WBLS however...) Right now, I am listening to the Amy Winehouse CD I borrowed from the public library (see: white people music, above).

Check out the radio show's irresistibly catchy theme song, and you will understand the major musical influences of my youth:



Ummm...and then I caught up with some friends on on the phone, and re-did my annual WWF panda wall calendar to reflect my newly assigned oncologist (woohoo!) which kinda leads me to feel like today was an ode to procrastination, since I am also spending lots of time blogging (blah blah blah). And by the way, one of my favorites from that website is for cluelessness, which is sooooooo tempting to frame at work [my co-workers certainly agree about this one] but is perhaps not such a good idea in Dilbertland these days. *snicker*

Basically, I am cheered by the fact that it is ridiculously easy to cheer me up/make me content, a trait to strenuously encourage during the next several months methinks. For example, although I shed a truly scary amount of hair today when I was brushing it this afternoon (not unexpected with chemo, but still startling) I at least HAVE hair to shed, so really, it's not so bad. Sure, I may take some medication to help with my outlook (hellooooo happy pills!) but I believe that they cannot change your basic disposition, and can really only lift unpleasant symptoms (i.e., they let me be me instead of [even more of] a basket case).

And now, prior to primping for dinner with my sweetie (hoorah!), I leave you with evidence that I can indeed exert myself occasionally:

an apple hat I made (granted, um, years ago) worn by its young recipient, Kevin, a now strapping young fella who is ridiculously sute,

and a sweater for a future baby (shockingly, there are no overdue baby gifts at the moment, but a few new humans are due this fall).

So one of you will not be surprised when this shows up (sorry) but hey -- it's at least machine washable!

I just have to tidy up a few last loose ends, sew on some buttons, and block/iron the heck out of the thing.

What do you all think? Is this sufficiently gender neutral for whatever baby shows up first?

The (Medical) Dating Game

Oh, and by the way, after my excellent cholesterol scores yesterday, I am having a hefty basket of fried seafood from the company cafeteria today for lunch. Oops. Sometimes I wonder if they TRY to kill off their employees with their continual menu of unhealthy foods, or if it's just a side effect.

Yesterday was a good physician day.

The doctor at work (there were 5 full-time physicians on-site here last year, since there are thousands of employees in several buildings throughout the area -- of course, dunno what the headcount is THIS year, things being what they are) is very pleasant and down to earth. I like seeing him every year. He's also funny in a low-key way (I don't really want my medical care providers channeling Robin Williams in any case -- besides which I can't stand that man, though I hope whatever his recent medical problem was has cleared up). So after I updated him on my boob cancer news & treatment, and he explained my test results to me (yay for good scores!) he asked, "So other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?" *snarf*

Okay, I realize it may not have been THAT funny, but he is part of my continuing "See! I do too like (any other) doctors!" defensiveness.

This is a trait (the liking, not the defensiveness) I hope carries over, since they have just officially approved my transfer to another oncologist. Her team will be the one treating me going forward during chemo AND also for my eternal follow ups (every 6 months, and then after a while, every year).

The process of selecting her reminds me of a traditional arranged marriage (or a demented version of The Dating Game): you can be matched with Bachelor #1 or Bachelor #2. Choose. Now. No, you can't meet them first. Yes, you will be stuck with them for the rest of your life. Good luck!

And just like an arranged date, I am kind of nervous -- I had better get along with her and her team since there is no WAY they will switch me again.

Originally, I had hoped to be transferred to the same oncologist who's been treating my PoW (Pearl of wisdom) for 12 years. and who PoW very much likes. Her treatment days were coincidentally on Thursdays. Also coincidentally, she will be unavailable for patient care for the next month, due to a hospital rotation requirement. Boo! (This reminds me of college, when every advisor I wasnted to work with in the history department would be going on sabbatical for my junior year. Timing is all and I became an English major instead.)

So instead the social worker at the hospital suggested 2 other breast cancer oncologists who she had worked with, and I quickly scanned their brief bios on the hospital site, and went, "Uh... uh.... her!" since the physician I chose mentioned her interest in integrative medicine.

This approach (the integrative medicine, not my selection method!) strikes me as very sensible, since it treats the whole person, and not just the medical symptoms, the way that traditional Western medicine does. (There is also a difference between integrative and alternative medicine, by the way.)

Okay, lunch time is over, and now it's time to go photocopy the 10 MegaMillions tickets my co-workers and I chipped in for: tonight's jackpot is $225 million! I consider my $2 share to be an entertainment fee, and not really a serious chance of winning, but $2 is fine for amusement value, no?