If You Want To Make God Laugh
Make plans. Even the most ordinary plans don't get in the way of His plan. Fact.
Yesterday was to be the first day of round five (out of nine) chemotherapy treatments. After round four being as wicked as it was, we were dreading this date with MSK more than usual. In an attempt to extend our time at home, we decided against leaving on Sunday night as we usually do. We left at 1am to get to MSK in time for our first appointment at 7:30am. We arrived exhausted, but happy we got to tuck the girls in and be at home just a treency bit longer.
My first appointment pre-chemo, was with my surgeon Dr. Healey. The goal of the appointment was to remove my stitches (which I have yet to count - last time Anna tried, she got bored at around 46). Dr. Healey started poking around and cutting things that looked like they should be hurting to cut, like the skin under my stitches, but they didn't. As opposed to pain as I am, not having pain while layers of skin were being cut concerned me. As it turns out, this is a problem. The reason it did not hurt to cut these layers of skin, Dr. Healey explained is that the skin is dead. Oh. This didn't sound so good.
The good news is that I am not having chemo at the moment. Instead, Dr. Healey checked me in to the fabulous hotel MSK. I had surgery this morning that cut out this dead skin around my original incision, and sewed me back up again. Hopefully we are on our way home again on Thursday.
The bummer is that I don't get to skip the chemo, it just gets delayed - not cancelled. Also, the Sarcoma Team at MSK decided to add the dreaded High-Dose Methotrexate to my chemo regimen. There was some debate as to wether to add this in or not, especially since the surgery revealed that the three chemo drugs I am currently on were effective at killing the tumor in my bone. The post-surgery pathology showed 60% necrosis (or death) of the tumor. If it were 90-100% dead, then the dreaded Methotrexate would be off the table.
As my doctor says, "We don't get a do-over". We have to get this right, so while we are in the fight, we have to hit this thing as hard as we can. What this means practically, is that in addition to chemo happening every 21 days for five days, methotrexate will happen the week before each cycle for five additional days. So, for two out of every three weeks, I will be on chemo.
In an attempt to minimize the effect of this chemo schedule on John's work and life in general, we will have my regular chemo take place at our local hospital's oncology center, and the Methotrexate round at MSK. While Methotrexate is a chemotherapy, it is a very powerful and complicated one to manage, so best to handle that one at a place that regularly takes care of patients who need it.
Although I enjoy the image of making God laugh immensely, we have decided to forego much In the way of planning, and take this journey one day at a time. I am also thinking of embroidering a pillow with the phrase "Do not put a period where God has placed a comma.".
Yesterday was to be the first day of round five (out of nine) chemotherapy treatments. After round four being as wicked as it was, we were dreading this date with MSK more than usual. In an attempt to extend our time at home, we decided against leaving on Sunday night as we usually do. We left at 1am to get to MSK in time for our first appointment at 7:30am. We arrived exhausted, but happy we got to tuck the girls in and be at home just a treency bit longer.
My first appointment pre-chemo, was with my surgeon Dr. Healey. The goal of the appointment was to remove my stitches (which I have yet to count - last time Anna tried, she got bored at around 46). Dr. Healey started poking around and cutting things that looked like they should be hurting to cut, like the skin under my stitches, but they didn't. As opposed to pain as I am, not having pain while layers of skin were being cut concerned me. As it turns out, this is a problem. The reason it did not hurt to cut these layers of skin, Dr. Healey explained is that the skin is dead. Oh. This didn't sound so good.
The good news is that I am not having chemo at the moment. Instead, Dr. Healey checked me in to the fabulous hotel MSK. I had surgery this morning that cut out this dead skin around my original incision, and sewed me back up again. Hopefully we are on our way home again on Thursday.
The bummer is that I don't get to skip the chemo, it just gets delayed - not cancelled. Also, the Sarcoma Team at MSK decided to add the dreaded High-Dose Methotrexate to my chemo regimen. There was some debate as to wether to add this in or not, especially since the surgery revealed that the three chemo drugs I am currently on were effective at killing the tumor in my bone. The post-surgery pathology showed 60% necrosis (or death) of the tumor. If it were 90-100% dead, then the dreaded Methotrexate would be off the table.
As my doctor says, "We don't get a do-over". We have to get this right, so while we are in the fight, we have to hit this thing as hard as we can. What this means practically, is that in addition to chemo happening every 21 days for five days, methotrexate will happen the week before each cycle for five additional days. So, for two out of every three weeks, I will be on chemo.
In an attempt to minimize the effect of this chemo schedule on John's work and life in general, we will have my regular chemo take place at our local hospital's oncology center, and the Methotrexate round at MSK. While Methotrexate is a chemotherapy, it is a very powerful and complicated one to manage, so best to handle that one at a place that regularly takes care of patients who need it.
Although I enjoy the image of making God laugh immensely, we have decided to forego much In the way of planning, and take this journey one day at a time. I am also thinking of embroidering a pillow with the phrase "Do not put a period where God has placed a comma.".
I like your embroidered pillow idea! Please know that you are in everyone's thoughts, prayers, and hearts each and every day!
ReplyDeleteHugs to you all!
Lynne <3
Ann,
ReplyDeleteThinking of you. Prayers being lifted up to our Lord. God bless you and your wonderful family.
My Love,
Kathy
Ann you are all in our prayers. So sorry you have to go through this. Can't wait for the day when we can all celebrate your cure.....God Bless
ReplyDeleteWONDERFUL..(sarcastic voice)...blah for the Methotrexate....and glad they caught the skin re-surgery thing. (but also...WONDERFUL..again sarcastic voice...) -<>- Can u say, "Ann is going to be sooooo cured from all the mega chemo get-the-hell-out-of-me-bad-cells-and that's final! " U are going to be one VERY healthy gal sooonnn! And organic u will go? :) Strong breaths...warm vibes of positive & healthy thinking...but mostly wonderful rays of light from prayers--for you
ReplyDeleteWell, I think Vazjoanna has all the emotions covered. I did look at my calendar on Monday and said a prayer for you, and so your body got a little reprieve to beef up all the good cells until you are blasted again. God knows best, and we trust Him implicitly..
ReplyDeleteUntil next God Love Ya!
Your courage and strength is an inspiration more than you can ever imagine..... Your in our prayers every day, and sometimes (like yesterday) 3 or more times..... xoxoxo Colt
ReplyDeleteThank you for the prayers! I especially needed them three times or more times just the other day, Colt! How did you know?
ReplyDeleteI am enjoying a week of no surgery, no chemo, no methotrexate, just being home. It is truly, truly home sweet home.
WIthout your love, support and encouragement, I would have a very hard time keeping my head up. Thank you. It means the world.
Love,
Ann
As this is ♥ day, know that you are in the hearts of everyone who follows
ReplyDeleteyour horrific journey. That you have the strength and generosity of spirit to
write so clearly in the midst of extrordinary suffering is truly a gift to all.
So happy ♥ day to you, Ann and thank you for illuminating the power of love, courage , & faith