Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Travel Tales, Shave it Off! And “Welcome to Stanford”

 A whirlwind of the past couple days, for sure!  Amidst the hair falling out, managed to get through the week.  Friday was a long but enjoyable day complete with online trivia with high school friends and a virtual escape room for Karyn’s birthday.  Both were great and definitely something to consider if you’re looking for safe and physically distanced socialization.  I lounged on rainy day y, mostly procrastinating getting ready for the big trip.  

TL;DR Summary...Flying wasn’t too terrible! I shaved my head! I get to stay in California!

Luckily my flight out of Dayton wasn’t till the afternoon on Sunday so I was able to pack all morning, despite Riley DEFINITELY figuring out what was up and giving me a pretty cold shoulder.  She’ll be well taken care of, don’t worry, but I anticipate we may have some relationship mending to do when I get back.

Not a happy kitty.

Maybe next time I’ll take you with Ri.

I definitely felt like I was overpacking but when checked bags are free (Thanks Delta card) and you’re preparing for an unknown duration, multiple locations/climates and various adventures, it adds up! My lovely friends dropped me at DAY, which was not crowded at all, but a little slow just given that it was essentially a one-man show for checkin and security was single lane.  However, the new fancy “your flight info is on your ID so you don’t need to show your boarding pass” was kind of fun.  

My lovely FD friends sent me a fancy n95 respirator mask which seemed appropriate to wear while traveling.  That along with my standard sleeve for lymphadema protection and a beanie so I didn’t shed all over the place completed my fashion statement known as “flying with cancer”.
Extra mask over top just so I didn’t look as ‘over the top’

Perks of flying out of a small airport is that even with my lowly silver status I get frequent upgrades...Seat 1A baby!
Yes I will enjoy that extra leg room and being able to run off the plane first!

Arriving into ATL I was somewhat surprised that it felt like a “regular” travel day...much busier than back in June when I snuck off to Phoenix and flew through DTW and the boards were basically empty of departing flights.  I was also quite pleasantly surprised that nearly everyone was not just wearing a mask, but actually wearing it correctly.  Good job travelers!  There was a definite awareness of spacing and people avoiding crowding.  I think I probably only saw 1 or 2 assholes that defiantly weren’t wearing a mask or were wearing it improperly.  

I grabbed some food and avoided the crowded food court, instead situating myself in a fairly empty gate area with plenty of space for the mask-less time of eating.  That’s an interesting part about masking on the plane...they still give little snack bags and you can obviously take mask off while actively eating and drinking.  I tried to avoid that best I could be eating before hand.

The boarding process of single rows from the back of the plane forward helps to keep spacing and avoid walking past others, also part of Delta’s efforts.  I settled into my window seat, raised the arm rest (my “first class hips” appreciate the ability to spread out a bit more) and settled in for the over 5 hour flight from ATL-SFO.

I was attempting to do work and even paid for the WiFi to try to knock out a good amount of saved up stuff, but kept finding it hard to focus, difficult to look over my mask, etc.  At one point when we were at cruising altitude, I decided to pull out my pulse oximeter I brought with (I spot check at home occasionally and if you unfortunately were to get COVID, having one of these is super helpful in knowing when you are decompensating).
That’s a pulse of 96 and O2 sat of 88%

Well then, that might be why!  I spot checked a few other times, pretty consistently around 90% or so, lower than normal for sure.  Why might this be?  Well, no, masks don’t cause you to suffocate...however, it is possible that my n95 plus additional coverage over the 1 way valve slightly increase my carbon dioxide levels.  This increase is CO2 can cause a shift in my favorite thing in physiology (the oxyhemoglobin dissociation curve), which, when in a lower than normal oxygen environment, can facilitate desaturation.  A lot of people don’t realize it but commercial airlines, while obviously pressurized compared to the outside environment of 30,000 ish feet, are generally not fully pressurized to sea-level pressures of oxygen.  Yes, this is part of the reason why you might feel sleepy, sleep like crap, be gassy, and generally feel kind of crummy after long flights.  Taken together, the environment of the plane, my mask gear, and my somewhat compromised lung function created a perfect storm for a bit of deoxygenation and a good excuse for me to put away my laptop and just watch movies instead. :)  I guess perhaps the 5 hour stimulus and potential compensation of increases in the hormones that stimulate red blood cell production (e.g. EPO...yes, same thing Lance Armstrong was ‘accused’ of taking) wouldn’t be the worst thing for me right now!

So instead of writing letters of rec, IRB proposals and general other academic stuff, I watched 21 Bridges with the late Chadwick Boseman (good action flick), fell asleep during Cool Runnings (thanks Keely for the reminder of that lovely movie!), and the 2019 Charlie’s Angels (perhaps one of my more preferred Kristen Stewart characters).  

We landed in SFO, (and immediately my oxygenation was normal folks!) people deplaned politely and efficiently leaving space and my brother in law picked me up (took me a second to figure out Tesla door handles...) for the drive up the hills to Karyn’s place.  Taking off the mask felt great, but not as great as seeing family and the hugs when we walked in!

Through dinner we discussed how I was getting way sick of the shedding of hair so decided why wait...SHAVE IT OFF!
A family affair!

And if you want to watch the live, in motion 10:00 version...


Felt great to be able to shower and “sleep clean” without strings of hair all around or needing to wear a beanie.  The stubble will continue to fall out as well, but much less annoying.
Crazy how much had already came out but how much was left!

After the fun and excitement, sleep was long overdue and I had my first Stanford appointment to prepare for!


Waking up bald, refreshed, and enjoying the views!

Stanford Medical is super conveniently like 20-25 minutes from Karyn’s place, so we headed down with plenty of time for my 9:20 appointment.  The campus is big, but the office I was going to was in an outpatient building so didn’t feel very ‘hospital-y’ and fairly comfortable.  I checked in (a little weird to feel like the new kid not knowing where to go...) and waited to be called back.   I first met with the Nurse Practitioner for the doctor and we discussed my history, my plans, etc.  He informed me (and I had already actually known this from a call at the airport I forgot about till now) that there was a clinical trial I was potentially well matched for based on the genetics of my tumor that the doc would want to discuss.  After a quick exam, I then saw the doc (and his trailing student...hooray for teaching hospitals!).  

The oncologist I saw is Dr. Gruber and when I saw his name I clearly pictured this...
Not really a Christmas movie, but Christmas is as good as any time to watch this classic!

It’s been awhile since I’ve had a new provider.  I sort of forgot what that awkward medical ‘first date’ feels like.  Each person trying to be nice, polite, etc, and get to know one another a bit.  I’m super comfortable in the patient position (maybe even a bit too much?) and so sometimes this can catch folks off guard a bit.  This doc was clearly super smart (felt like I could see the wheels turning in his head). My situation is a bit unique in that I’m not really after a true “2nd opinion” since I’m comfortable with my current plan, I’m not really “transferring care”, only temporarily at least, and in some ways I may or may not have an ongoing relationship with this provider.  

We discussed my case and he indicated that the clinical trial was very opportune in that it matches with a variant that was identified in my lung biopsy pathology.  It’s being run by Stanford so he suggests it, though there are some logistically challenges (I.e. I don’t actually live here) to overcome if I go in that direction.  I’ve asked the clinical coordinator (who I talked to at the airport) for some more info, etc, so will probably make that decision soon.  Upside is that it’s an oral med, not otherwise available.  Downside is that it’s early phase 1, here, etc.

Doc Gruber was on board though with simply continuing my current infusion protocol (insurance pending) if that’s what I wanted...so I GET TO STAY!  The infusions are already scheduled actually....process is a bit more complicated than at home (true visit before hand, infusion at a second location), but for a month, I can deal.  

He also wants me to talk to the Stanford Genetic Counselors and get my germ line genetics retested.  I had this done at first diagnosis in 2014.  It’s not that my genes would have changed, but in that time we have new targets or mutations to ‘look for’ in this genetic testing.  All of which can better inform care and specifically target it (i.e. personalized medicine) my tumor, in me.  It isn’t that the Abraxane isn’t a good choice, it’s aggressive and broad.  Ya’ll know I’m pretty blunt so at one point when he asked if I had questions or what else he could tell me, the conversation went something like this:

“Well, you could tell me if you think I’ve gotten shit care...I’m not really used to the 2nd opinion thing so I don’t know how that really works”.

“No, you’ve gotten fine care and this is very similar to what we would have done”.

So, haters of non-academic medicine, be silent!  Or, trust the process...clinical guidelines are there for a reason...to standardize care, whether you’re in Dayton or San Fran, Phoenix or Rochester, MN.

On the way home, I debriefed with Karyn, particularly about how it felt very different but that I’m going from a provider that’s now known me for 5+ years in super intimate ways to a new person, so there’s bound to be a little bit of awkwardness.  We didn’t talk prognosis or anything like that at the appointment. Again...THERE IS NO CURE FOR METASTATIC BREAST CANCER.   Even the clinical trials are a “take it till they stop working” approach.  My presence of disease was really high, he admitted as much and commented on how young I was to have been diagnosed (it had been awhile since having that tired conversation), that despite pulling out the big guns, we are where we are.  

I think I communicated my desires, wishes and personality well enough in the appointment.  As we discussed setting up the infusion appointment he said “does that sound good” and I joked “yeah, I mean, as good as chemo can sound....”. He made a bit of a face and reaction and I said apologetically that I don’t take things too seriously.  He responded that they prefer it that way, said “Welcome to Stanford” and I got dressed and left.  (Don’t forget that you still have to take your shirt off on the awkward first date...)

After heading back to the house I had a meeting to jump on (first one in the head scarf!), caught a brief nap, and then went to play some tennis with the fam on the way to Sarah’s for dinner.
Rotating doubles...the girls have gotten so good!

And the trip to the tennis court was exactly why I’m here.  Some movement and activity in the sun, with people I love.  When at home I might have otherwise DoorDashed greasy food and sat by myself post—appointment.  

I had another call for a bit as we headed over to Sarah’s for dinner, watching my nephew adorably watch the picture frame...

And enjoying the comfort and company of family.  While at the tennis courts I had gotten the note about the scheduled infusions and confirmed that I’ll be contacted if any issues with insurance coverage out-of state were to arise.  We CAROAKEd on the way home (did I mention I love this family!), and I headed to bed pretty early, knowing I’d be up early to “proctor” an exam my students are taking right now as I write this (damn those time zone changes!). 

So there are still some things to figure out...can I do the trial or do I stick to the current plan?  When is mom coming and how long will she stay?  Will I stay here at Karyn’s or move to Sarah’s and when?  All questions that will be answered in time, but I’m so happy that it looks like it’s going to work out for me to stay here surrounded by support, beauty, good food, and activity. 


















Friday, November 20, 2020

Falling Out

 I write this sitting at home before my morning doctor’s appointment and 3rd treatment.  I’ll probably wait to post to update with latest labs and any sort of doc report but a bit of a review of the past couple of weeks.

    Doc Update From the Chemo Chair:  All looks good, white cells have predictably fallen a bit so doing a mild dose reduction for today’s treatment. Otherwise all good and ok to take a break for a couple weeks post December treatments if needed before coming back in January.  So happy to have a provider so supportive of what I want to do.

Treatment 2 went well...I had spent the morning out at the Air Force Base meeting with a research collaborator, had some lunch then headed to the clinic.  It was similarly quick and easy.  My labs showed a bit of decrease in white cells (immune) and red cells (oxygen carrying) but both were actually still in the normal range, which was great.  Had a semi awkward “sighting” of a coworker, who I hope is doing well and isn’t dealing with anything near as serious as I am.  Needless to say, the cancer clinic is not the best place to run into folks.  I felt well after treatment (so much so I even enjoyed a sanity-preserving happy hour beer with work friends, and continued to through the weekend.  I took a long walk with a friend, but the business of the week was a good excuse not to do too much activity this week.

We are wrapping up our “on campus” semester, as we’ll go remote after Thanksgiving.  It made for a busy week, along with me of course being a little crazy and taking on some additional things like public outreach, showing a friend’s kids some stuff, etc.  But I find that invigorating and fairly meaningful.  Had a few mentally exhausting advising appointments with students dealing with some heavy shit, but all in all, not a bad work week.  

But, the main point of this post...MY HAIR HAS STARTED TO FALL OUT!

This isn’t unexpected.  However, I will say that most of the literature and my doc mentioned “thinning” with abraxane vs complete hair loss, but based on my metavivor FB group and my current experience, I’m thinking this might be a common understatement.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so here’s the photo series I call “I’m not good at not running my hands through my hair....in the shower and out”


Top right was Wednesday in the shower.  It’s CRAZY how it just sort of starts all of a sudden.  Maybe not crazy, I mean the hair follicles die on a predictable schedule, then its just a matter of a little bit of force to bring them out.  Maybe you’re thinking I’m pulling, but really, it does just sort of “happen”.  Video evidence below.




As you can see, I still have plenty o hairs still left on my head (thanks thick hair I’ve always complained about!).  I think this feels different than last time since I didn’t cut short first, so the falling outs are much longer and noticeable.  I think I will probably just shave it soon, as a little bit of a sense of control, similar to first time around.  Which brings me to upcoming plans...

I fly to California on Sunday.  I know, I know, stay-at-home and COVID crazy.  Trust me, I feel a little guilty.  But I got a negative test Wednesday, have continued to be careful about precautions, and think I’m posing a minimal risk of spreading.  Also, I AM seeking medical treatment.  I meet with Stanford docs on Monday, to hopefully be able to schedule/set up infusion appointments out there so I can stay (and shelter in place!) in Cali with Karyn, Sarah and fams (who are bubbling together and doing a great job quarantining).  It’ll be fun to have a hair cutting party with those guys, plus my brother-in-law is an expert with the trimmer!

Not having hair will definitely force the Cancer-ness into full view.  To be honest, when the hair first started falling out I did think “oh that’s right, I’m in chemo...I forgot”.  And, as Lex said, better to look like you have cancer than feel like you have cancer. 

I’ll post on the adventure of traveling (and probably show off the awesome hoodie and fancy n95 respirator my amazing FD family sent me as part of a fantastic care package) on/after Sunday.  And then a report on the Stanford appt.  

Side note...HAPPY FREAKING BIRTHDAY TO MY SISTER KARYN!

I couldn’t ask for a better big sis.  She’s been with me on this ‘journey’ last time and this time around. But beyond the cancer shit, she’s just an amazing mother, wife, citizen, leader, and sister. Last night, I fell asleep listening to her lead her LAST board meeting as chair of the Portola Valley School Board.  It was so great to see her organized and leading the conversation.   As luck would have it, I feel asleep and missed the middle 3 HOURS of the meeting : ). But, I did wake up to hear the closing comments.  I got to hear my sister praise educators, speak of the difficult work she had done and has led others through, and then got to hear others sing her praises.  It’s a really great feeling to be proud of a sibling and I was proud in that moment (even if only half awake...).  I’m super excited to be heading out her way...the hang, to see her newly renovated beautiful home (QUITE the project!), spend time with her wonderful hubby and kiddos, and probably have some fun chats about the fun of administrative work in education :)

If my amazing sister isn’t reason enough to make you smile...watch this.  On Wednesday, Obi Toppin of the Dayton Flyers from the University of Dayton (not Dayton University Adam Silver...) was drafter #8 to the Kicks.  For a school like us, this is a big deal.  His reaction is precious, his class of thanking coaches and teammates shows class and the quality of the program Coach Grant is building here.  Me likes sports.  Even in weird times.  Perhaps especially is weird times (make sure you peep his little bro freaking out on the iPad).  








Sunday, November 8, 2020

Getting the Ball Rollin'

What a week, right?  

Happy that we have President-Elect Biden and Vice President-Elect Harris (whether DJT is willing to admit it or not).  But, man, what a week, right?  If any of you were wondering what scanxiety feels like...it feels like what Wed-Fri did.

On Monday, I had my appointment for my first infusion scheduled for Friday....hooray for quick insurance approvals.  It's nice to have a plan.  

After I left the doctor on Friday, I had additional questions I hadn't thought of at the time (of course...) that I sent through the medical portal and got answered by a phone call with my onc on Monday.

  • Can I get treatments in California to allow my Escape Ohio plan?
    • Yes, if we can figure it out (more on that later)
  • Will we put a port back in?
    • For now, no.  I've got good veins so we'll see how that goes/lasts.
  • How many rounds?
    • We'll probably rescan after 2 or 3 months.  I should expect at least 4 round to begin with

 Starting Monday, Ms. Barbara Crecelius, my amazing personal assistant, with the help of Karyn, started looking into treatment options in California.  I hate phonecalls, so this was an amazing help!  After a few different avenues over a few days, we ended up having my records sent to Stanford's Breast Cancer Center.  I'll try to have a telehealth appointment before Thanksgiving to establish care, which then would allow me to get infusions while I'm there.  Understandably, for chemo infusions, they won't just take an order from out of state doctor, but I need to have a provider there.  If I can't do the telehealth, I'll still try to set up an in person appointment, even if I have to go back home for infusions in December.  

A lot of people ask about second opinions, but that isn't really my primary reason for seeking the addition to the care team.  Firstly, I would enjoy staying out there, so it allows me to potentially do that.  But more importantly, and I really have to thank Karyn for pointing this out, it gives me more options for care in places where I have strong support systems.  With both Karyn and Sarah and their families there, if I want to take a long vacation, or the reality of things getting worse at some point, it allows me to have some continuity of care.  Plus, just happens to be at a world-class specialized breast cancer clinic, that's only about 20-30 minutes from both of their houses.  So why not?

It's still a work in progress to get things set up, but that ball is rolling.

There were a few "sharings" this week at work.  I told the students in my lab, my department, etc.  It's a strange "update" to provide, for sure.  People don't know what to say.  I get it.  I get a lot of the "you're so strong, if anyone can beat it, it's you" "you'll beat it".  It's appreciated.  But it's not really true.  Barring a freak accident, this disease will kill me.  It hopefully won't be soon, but that's the truth of metastatic breast cancer.  So, the pragmatic approach of figuring out worst-case scenarios is actually more comforting to me.  But I appreciate the sentiment behind the "fighter mentality" good words.  Same goes with the prayers.  Not totally my bag, but appreciated.

Being a veteran to the infusion chemo world made the whole process a little different.  It almost felt like a regular appointment...no major prep, nothing too different.  I took an afternoon appointment so I could keep a morning dentist appointment (non emergent dental work isn't recommended while on chemo, so was good timing).  A few advising appointments after and it was off to my first round.  Quick stop at the in office pharmacy to pick up anti-nausea meds and then picked a chair.

 

Obligatory selfie!

The nurse wasn't the one I had last time (she's now in management) but she was there 5 years ago and remembered me.  Kind of comforting actually.  

Quick stick for the IV.  Blood draw for labs.  This will be more important in the future (when counts will drop...this is how they make sure I can 'handle' it).  Then a pre-treatment steroid.  I didn't realize I was getting this, but it's helpful to handle the treatment and keeps you feeling pretty good, particularly that first day.  I read back through old posts this weekend and was reminded of that.  As the steroid wears off, the fatigue can set in a bit more.

 

No red devil...more like milk 

After the 20 minute steroid, on to the 'good' stuff.  The abraxane kind of looks like milk.  Couldn't feel anything, no reactions, etc.  Pretty easy.  Probably the most annoying thing was that since I don't have a port I was a little less functional while trying to entertain myself and then join in on a Zoom call for work.

Kept the video off to not scare folks with IV poles and masks :)

Technology is pretty cool though and it was kind of nice to have the distraction.  I finished infusion before the meeting ended actually, so even was able to jump on with video from home.

I took it pretty easy Friday night, though that isn't too unusual! Saturday, met up with Elizabeth for coffee and a walk.  Decided to be conservative and not try to jog, just walked.  Been feeling pretty good all weekend really. Played tennis today, doubles, and kind of slow, but felt pretty good.  I maybe slept more today than usual?? Again, I'm no stranger to lazy weekends, so hard to say.  Thankfully no other side effects, GI, or otherwise yet.  But it's just the start, so cautiously optimistic.  

Rereading old blog posts reminded me of this book that I had gotten:

 

Memoir via comics. 

Since it was a GORGEOUS weekend (70 in November in Ohio?! What?!) I reread it outside.  And unfortunately, I'm going to be passing it along to a friend of a friend that unfortunately just found out she is metastatic now also.  Hopefully the levity it provides can be some sort of relief to the craziness that is going through this shitty diagnosis and disease.