...I'd be comfortable with pre-cancer.
Chemotherapy
Being strapped down to a table by a mask on my face
Getting blood tests without wanting to pass out
Throwing up regularly
Having a port
Plucking my eyelashes
Having a tube in my chest to drain fluid at home
and my favorite
Standing naked in my kitchen putting Glad "Press n Seal" on my stomach to protect the tube in the shower
This is a place I hope to record some of my thoughts and experiences while I embark on my journey. I hope it's not too much of a downer and I hope my humor will shine thru more than anything. I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer in mid January 2011. It started in my right lung and spread to the left, my liver, brain, spine and right upper arm bone. I am part of the Sloan Kettering family in NYC and not currently undergoing any traditional treatment.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
As drug side effects go...
Tarceva has by far the weirdest one ever. "Unusual eyelash behavior". I'm so not kidding. The first time I was made aware of this fact was when I was getting prepped for a cat scan. The nurse placing the IV was looking at my eyes, I thought she was concerned about pink eye or something. But she explained she was looking at my lashes because people who are on Tarceva for a long time have beautiful lashes.
I was like "for real?" and she said, "Oh yeah, just wait." She wasn't kidding. My lashes are longer and darker. Not much fuller though. But they look like they are perfectly mascara'd, no clumps but thick and rich. It's so noticable that several people have mentioned it to me, asking me if their fake or if I have been using that lash medicine, Latisse. (Interesting note about Latisse, it is actually one half of a glaucoma drug. People who were using it for glaucoma reported that their lashes were getting longer and stronger. So the savvy drug people isolated all the components to figure out what was causing this effect. And once they nailed it they marketed it and will prob make more money on that than on the original medicine.)
Now what is so unusual about lucious lashes? Well they don't just look fab, they actually can go a little haywire. As in growing in the wrong direction. So I have to pluck a few a week because they are literally jabbing my eyeballs!! Yeah it's totally sexy and not at all painful.
The other "unusual aspect" is the texture of the lashes. They are SO course. When one falls out or is plucked I just marvel at it, it feels like a damn pine needle.
So I have to say, when it comes to weird side effects, Tarceva wins!!
But I'm cool with it, makes eyeliner look pretty damn good. ;)
I was like "for real?" and she said, "Oh yeah, just wait." She wasn't kidding. My lashes are longer and darker. Not much fuller though. But they look like they are perfectly mascara'd, no clumps but thick and rich. It's so noticable that several people have mentioned it to me, asking me if their fake or if I have been using that lash medicine, Latisse. (Interesting note about Latisse, it is actually one half of a glaucoma drug. People who were using it for glaucoma reported that their lashes were getting longer and stronger. So the savvy drug people isolated all the components to figure out what was causing this effect. And once they nailed it they marketed it and will prob make more money on that than on the original medicine.)
Now what is so unusual about lucious lashes? Well they don't just look fab, they actually can go a little haywire. As in growing in the wrong direction. So I have to pluck a few a week because they are literally jabbing my eyeballs!! Yeah it's totally sexy and not at all painful.
The other "unusual aspect" is the texture of the lashes. They are SO course. When one falls out or is plucked I just marvel at it, it feels like a damn pine needle.
So I have to say, when it comes to weird side effects, Tarceva wins!!
But I'm cool with it, makes eyeliner look pretty damn good. ;)
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Quick Update - Clinical Trial
So first off all the previously recognized tumors in the chest and abdonmen are stable. The problem is there are two lymphnodes that are growing and they haven't stopped. So that indicates I'm at the beginning stages of Tarceva resistance. So Dr. Krug said I can wait two more months to see if they keep growing or I can choose a course of action. But I really like that he put it in my hands.
So before anyone worries, here's the deal, the growth is not enough to warrant chemo or radiation. The way Krug explained it when u are on Tarceva, regrowth happens so slowly it's hard to know when to pull the trigger on additional treatment, but he felt comfortable to let another 2 months go and another cat scan before def taking action.
But there's a clinical trial that will add another drug (IV, every 2 weeks) to Tarceva to get it going again. I will not be randomized because I'm in the cancer regrowth catagory so I WILL receive the new drug.
Also I have a lot of fluid in my lungs (probably treatment related), which is why I'm tired and out of breath so much lately. So I will be getting that drained. That'll help me with how I'm feeling physically.
There is only one x-factor in all of this, my next brain scan (June 7) has to be stable. If not, I have to treat anything that is unstable and then reapply to the study.
As for how I'm feeling, at the moment I feel ok. I was prepared for worse to be honest. The way I'm looking at this is, we see a small change on the scan and we want to nip it in the bud before it becomes a problem.
So before anyone worries, here's the deal, the growth is not enough to warrant chemo or radiation. The way Krug explained it when u are on Tarceva, regrowth happens so slowly it's hard to know when to pull the trigger on additional treatment, but he felt comfortable to let another 2 months go and another cat scan before def taking action.
But there's a clinical trial that will add another drug (IV, every 2 weeks) to Tarceva to get it going again. I will not be randomized because I'm in the cancer regrowth catagory so I WILL receive the new drug.
Also I have a lot of fluid in my lungs (probably treatment related), which is why I'm tired and out of breath so much lately. So I will be getting that drained. That'll help me with how I'm feeling physically.
There is only one x-factor in all of this, my next brain scan (June 7) has to be stable. If not, I have to treat anything that is unstable and then reapply to the study.
As for how I'm feeling, at the moment I feel ok. I was prepared for worse to be honest. The way I'm looking at this is, we see a small change on the scan and we want to nip it in the bud before it becomes a problem.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Pink Goo Haiku
Raspberry flavored?
You taste like crap on a stick.
Yikes, I have to PEE!
(pink goo is what I drink for my cat scans)
You taste like crap on a stick.
Yikes, I have to PEE!
(pink goo is what I drink for my cat scans)
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
I got moves like Jagger
I'm sorry, but Adam how can I take Maroon 5 seriously with a song like that? I know everyone loves it but I think it's ridiculous. First of all, Jagger technically doesn't have any moves. He learned how to dance from Tina Turner (a goddess among goddesses in my book, but I digress). Secondly, have you actually seen his moves? He looks like a neuropathy patient with epilepsy.
Take a gander: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7y-x2fWKbmo
And finally, look I know the man is talented and a music pioneer. But when the hell was it decided that he was sexy or at least STILL sexy? The man has had sex with anything with a pulse for 50+ years. And he treated his wife like crap (though I have to admit, wtf did she expect?) I don't get why anyone finds man whores attractive, with one glaring exception. Tommy Lee, yes he is a disgusting walking petri dish, but he's hot and is hung like a sperm whale. So feel free to fantasize away, I just wouldn't recommend seeking him out for a real life experience however. Unless of course you have a sexy Hazmat suit.
WTF is this about? How the hell should I know, I just write this thing, I never promised coherence.
So I was going to air all my dirty laundry about the last two weeks and how much they suck. And how much I want to strangle a certain someone. But I'm keeping most of it to myself, well except for this: I have to be the only cancer patient, who after a day of vomiting and pre-op testing, who can ask her husband if she can take a 10 min nap before dinner and be told "no". Now I know what you're thinking how is that even possible? I did too. So I attempted to nap in protest and the SOB kept waking me up every time I nodded off. Why? Because he thought it was important that I eat first. I told you I hurled my guts up already right? But he got his way and I ate my meatloaf angerly whilst falling asleep. Yes I know only a woman could achieve an eating emotion.
But no, I will take the high road and instead discuss my sex life (feel free to run away in horror, but stick around I might be funny). Now I know you're wondering why I had pre-op testing today. Well I'm having a minor, unnecessary, GYN, not cancer related, had no intention of discussing it here procedure on Friday. That is until my husband called me from work this afternoon and said the secretaries in the Dean's office are concerned you're taking an unnecessary risk to your health. I was like, "they what?" But I'm SO unreasonable when I'm angry.
Yeah so it's official no part of my life is private anymore. So to fill you in on the things that I had foolishly decided not to share previously, here you go. My menstrual cycle is still regular, according to my OB/GYN I'm still fertile (actually I posted that one on Facebook), I've actually read the Story of O, and I have seen How Stella Got Her Groove Back about 48 times, because Taye Diggs keeps showering and I keep watching... And I like Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain, I AM into Yoga and they fried half my brain.
There you go my complete profile. Oh wait AND I'm getting an IUD placed on Friday. There I have nothing left. Why am I doing this. Well I can't be on hormonal contraceptives anymore thanks to Cletus (my blood clot). So I need a reliable, non-hormonal way to keep from getting knocked up. Because despite chemo's best effort, I still can get pregnant and I'm on Tarceva which would just be disastrous. So my OB/GYN and I decided on this method.
Now this led to a very uncomfortable exchange with my mother in law, that I kinda find hilarious. She and I have become closer in the last year and it's been really wonderful. Unfortunately for her it means I now tell her things I never would have before, like "oh by the way I'm having an IUD placed to prevent anymore grandchildren springing from my end." Amanda and Steven are going to have to make up the difference I'm afraid. But my nephew is the cutest so they should really make a million babies! But again I digress.
So my mother in law, concerned for my health and safety says. "Well why doesn't John take care of it?" And she asks this in such a way that I assume she means a vasectomy. So I say "Well because that wouldn't be fair. If I die, what if he and his new wife want children?" To which she said, "I was talking about condoms Jaime." And I said "Oh right..."
Come on that conversation is classic! I should submit it to OverheardinNewYork.com.
And in case you're asking that same question yourself, refer to the Sophia blog and my two major preggo scares. Guess what we used?
So today I had my pre-op testing. Some blood and an EKG, I could have done that blindfolded, standing on my head (NOT a reference to my aforementioned sex life). One nurse said that I would likely have general anesthesia (which I've never had) but then the nurse practitioner said later on that it would likely be just sedation (which I've had 3 times so far). But now John is freaked out and instead of putting me at ease, he's instead freaked me out too.
Now to be honest, between that and the nap, the IUD is quickly becoming REALLY unnecessary. However if Jason Statham ever decides he's into bald, fat chicks, I'd like to be prepared.
So I don't know what to do. Though I guess I should discuss it with the secretaries in the Dean's office. I was totally cool with this decision until John started pacing back and forth outside the doorway, mouthing about how he hates that I'm doing this while I am having blood drained from me. And now it's 2:39 AM and I'm sharing all the gory details with you. (He's going to kill me for this blog BTW, if I'm not on Facebook tomorrow, call the authorities.)
I'm just angry and I'm blogging angry. Which probably isn't fair, but neither was telling the secretaries about what is going on with my cervix. The man didn't tell his coworkers I was pregnant until two weeks before I delivered, but this needed to be shared.
Ugh, so here is my first passive aggressive post. I'll probably regret it when it's not 3AM anymore, but I hope you got a good laugh.
Oh and one more thing, I have a lot of trouble saying IUD. Why? Because at work we had these things called UIDs which were important and we dealt with them 100 times a day. So when I pause to say IUD so that I say it correctly, the nurses look at me like I'm Forrest Gump. I swear they are thinking "Are you having trouble spelling that honey?"
Ok I'm going to publish this before I am in my right mind so you can enjoy it until John makes me take it down! ;)
I have some scans coming up next month, I'll fill y'all in. Until then, hope you had a better Valentine's Day than I did. Love you!!!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
I'm fine, I'm just dying is all
Tomorrow (1/20) is the first anniversary of my diagnosis, as my Mother in Law said today "a date none of us will ever forget". So I guess this is New Cancer Eve or something. So I've had this blog that I've been sitting on for weeks, it's one of those that I don't feel 100% comfortable with. But here goes:
I can't explain how I feel right now. Which is funny cause I'm going to blog about it so I guess I can, or at least I'm going to attempt it. This is going to be one of those "doesn't make any sense" blogs, where I'm just going to write what's been in my messed up mind and leave everyone who reads this to scratch their pretty little heads.
It's been strange talking about myself and how I'm doing lately. Not because it makes me uncomfortable, cause it doesn't (have you read the blog? I'll tell ya every time I poop if you'd like, I have very few boundaries). But there's an assumed optimism that some people have when they talk to me that I don't quite share.
Not with my immediate family, they know the deal. It's unspoken, but we all know the odds. No point in talking about them or bringing them up, it's just depressing and I still don't really feel "sick" per say, so why bother. And my friends get it, probably anyone who has read this blog gets it.
But when I talk to some people, I can almost sense they are waiting for the tumors to go away. I mean you expect that from someone you've just met or someone who is simply an acquaintance. But there are some people who just don't seem to "get it" And I know they are thinking this way because that's kinda how I felt when I would talk to people I knew who were diagnosed before my own journey. I never realized how irritating that must have been.
And they don't mean anything by it, they just want the person they care about to get better. And I'm not talking about when people tell you they are praying for you or telling you to keep up the positivity, that's cool. It's that sense that one day this will all be over. And as much as I hope that will be the case, I'm not stupid, I know my chances of that happening are in the single digits. And I think my problem is I can't tell if these people don't want to acknowledge that fact for fear of being negative or do they really not know?
I guess I can understand, but for some reason lately it's sorta stuck in my brain. And I actually wonder if it's because I feel so "not sick". Like it's almost as though I have to keep putting it into perspective for myself. And the reason I keep saying "not sick" versus feeling "good" is because I still have bad side effect days, but that's all treatment related. I haven't had any cancer symptoms since the cough stopped. And I don't really have any feeling of the blood clot, most of the time I forget it's there.
I wonder however if this need for people to understand the gravity of this is a genuine need of mine or am I just feeling sorry for myself? I find I've had a shorter fuse about things lately. Like when someone has something they need to deal with and just won't go to the doc out of laziness, all I think about are the cat scans where I have to drink the red goo and I'll get all pissy. Like I want to shake them and be like, "really? I wish I just had to go for just a checkup, but no I have to monitor my tumors, but I can see how going to the doc to get a simple blood test would be so stressful for you!" Which is ironic considering ignoring an issue I needed to go to the doctor for is what got me in this predicament in the first place.
I'm hoping this is just a phase cause I'm finding it a bit intolerable, as in I want to smack myself ala Cher in Moonstruck and yell "snap out of it!" I don't like feeling sorry for myself (that's not entirely true, I used to be ace at it, but since then I have been "given" a real reason to and I suddenly don't want to anymore). I enjoy joking about it all, and I love it when people laugh instead of looking at me with that awkward "Did she just make a cancer/fat bald chick joke?" look, where they are too terrified to laugh.
And I hate when people who have beaten their cancer don't have a sense of humor. I mean come on! You beat the beast!!!! Fuck, I'll declare myself Empress of Manhattan if I beat this shit! I mean laugh baby, laugh a big fat belly "I conquered the fuck out of you" laugh. Like Zeus going all lightening bolt throwing and shit.
Does that make any sense? I want people to acknowledge that I'll likely be dead in less than a decade and to laugh about it? WTF is wrong with me?
I say let's just blame the steroid withdrawal and revisit my state of mind in 2012. Sound good?
I can't explain how I feel right now. Which is funny cause I'm going to blog about it so I guess I can, or at least I'm going to attempt it. This is going to be one of those "doesn't make any sense" blogs, where I'm just going to write what's been in my messed up mind and leave everyone who reads this to scratch their pretty little heads.
It's been strange talking about myself and how I'm doing lately. Not because it makes me uncomfortable, cause it doesn't (have you read the blog? I'll tell ya every time I poop if you'd like, I have very few boundaries). But there's an assumed optimism that some people have when they talk to me that I don't quite share.
Not with my immediate family, they know the deal. It's unspoken, but we all know the odds. No point in talking about them or bringing them up, it's just depressing and I still don't really feel "sick" per say, so why bother. And my friends get it, probably anyone who has read this blog gets it.
But when I talk to some people, I can almost sense they are waiting for the tumors to go away. I mean you expect that from someone you've just met or someone who is simply an acquaintance. But there are some people who just don't seem to "get it" And I know they are thinking this way because that's kinda how I felt when I would talk to people I knew who were diagnosed before my own journey. I never realized how irritating that must have been.
And they don't mean anything by it, they just want the person they care about to get better. And I'm not talking about when people tell you they are praying for you or telling you to keep up the positivity, that's cool. It's that sense that one day this will all be over. And as much as I hope that will be the case, I'm not stupid, I know my chances of that happening are in the single digits. And I think my problem is I can't tell if these people don't want to acknowledge that fact for fear of being negative or do they really not know?
I guess I can understand, but for some reason lately it's sorta stuck in my brain. And I actually wonder if it's because I feel so "not sick". Like it's almost as though I have to keep putting it into perspective for myself. And the reason I keep saying "not sick" versus feeling "good" is because I still have bad side effect days, but that's all treatment related. I haven't had any cancer symptoms since the cough stopped. And I don't really have any feeling of the blood clot, most of the time I forget it's there.
I wonder however if this need for people to understand the gravity of this is a genuine need of mine or am I just feeling sorry for myself? I find I've had a shorter fuse about things lately. Like when someone has something they need to deal with and just won't go to the doc out of laziness, all I think about are the cat scans where I have to drink the red goo and I'll get all pissy. Like I want to shake them and be like, "really? I wish I just had to go for just a checkup, but no I have to monitor my tumors, but I can see how going to the doc to get a simple blood test would be so stressful for you!" Which is ironic considering ignoring an issue I needed to go to the doctor for is what got me in this predicament in the first place.
I'm hoping this is just a phase cause I'm finding it a bit intolerable, as in I want to smack myself ala Cher in Moonstruck and yell "snap out of it!" I don't like feeling sorry for myself (that's not entirely true, I used to be ace at it, but since then I have been "given" a real reason to and I suddenly don't want to anymore). I enjoy joking about it all, and I love it when people laugh instead of looking at me with that awkward "Did she just make a cancer/fat bald chick joke?" look, where they are too terrified to laugh.
And I hate when people who have beaten their cancer don't have a sense of humor. I mean come on! You beat the beast!!!! Fuck, I'll declare myself Empress of Manhattan if I beat this shit! I mean laugh baby, laugh a big fat belly "I conquered the fuck out of you" laugh. Like Zeus going all lightening bolt throwing and shit.
Does that make any sense? I want people to acknowledge that I'll likely be dead in less than a decade and to laugh about it? WTF is wrong with me?
I say let's just blame the steroid withdrawal and revisit my state of mind in 2012. Sound good?
Monday, December 19, 2011
Ramblings...
So I figure I am this close to getting my medical degree. What are my qualifications you ask?
Well last month I developed a bit of chafing in a delicate spot (under the left boob) and it HURT LIKE HELL. So I got out the bacitracin and gauze and applied it the area and waited a couple of days for my appointment with the ultra-handsome Dr. LaCouture, Sloan's dermatologist. So he looks at my handiwork and said "well doctor, I am impressed with your course of treatment and recommend you stick with it until the rash is gone." Now I know you're saying yeah what does that prove exactly? Well consider this...
Two weeks ago, Dec. 5, I had my routine Brain MRI. Side Note: I posted on facebook that I never in a million years thoughts I'd hear the words "Ok Mrs. Cucuzza, this is just your usual MRI." And he said it like he was making me my daily Tom Collins or something. It was pretty amusing to me.
Anywho the next day I developed hives. I didn't think anything of them at first because I also ate some provolone cheese and if they don't get enough of the rind off there can be a touch of mold on it. Now I'm not talking about cheese that's past it's date, I mean the mold that they use to protect the cheese casings while they age. They wash it off, but there can still be some on there and I'm MEGA allergic to mold. But there was a chance too that I was allergic to the IV dye that they give you for the MRI.
So to reduce the itchiness I did a couple of things. I went back on my Claritan-D which I didn't really need now that Fall is drawing to a close, I used a hydrocortisone-antihistamine cream, and I upped my steroid from 1/2 MG to 1 MG.
But when the hives reached day three I called Dr. Krug's office (my oncologist). I told them everything including my self-medication. And while I'm telling the nurse on the phone, and she's like "wait, you upped your steroid?" I was awaiting a big ole lecture. Instead she says, "ok I'm going to talk to the doctors if they want to add anything but confidentially you did an amazing job treating yourself." When she called back after talking to the doctors she said "we all recommend you continue your current course of treatment until you feel the hives have gone". BOOYAH!!!
Then yesterday in the middle of the day my ear started KILLING me. I've never had an ear infection (at least not since infancy) so this is new to me. But my husband has had a couple so I get right to it. My apt. with Dr. Krug was scheduled for today so I knew I'd have a doc look at it within the next 24 hours, but I still decided to mobilize to ease the pain.
So I take my antibiotic Bactrin (that I'm on 3 times a week, literally Mon, Wed, Fri) to help prevent pneumonia which can happen from being on dexamethasone (the infamous steroid) which is a big deal because it's a Sunday. And then I find John's Cipro drops and use that. I take my Claritin-D to help dry up some of the liquid and tylenol to help with the pain and swelling and finally I take my rhinocort nasal spray twice a day instead of once.
I go to Krug's office to hear about my scans and answer the usual "how are you feeling?" questions. And I told him about the ear and even brought the drops with us, so he knew exactly what I was taking. Krug takes one look at my ear and says "Whoa, I haven't seen an ear like that in years" so it was confirmed this was not a lagging radiation side effect, this was a good old fashioned ear infection, like babies get (that Krug gleefully teased me about).
But what did he say about treatment? "Do you feel these drops are working?" "Yes, I do" "Ok, let me write you a script so you can have your own bottle and not have to use your husband's."
So that's three instances of successful self medication within a month, I came out to the waiting room and was like, so let me talk to people here and see what I can do for them. HA!
And my medical advice is legendary. A few years ago at work, my friend Matt climbed a fence and ended up ripping open his hand and wrist on a Saturday night. On Monday at lunch we see his hand and are horrified. He really cut himself badly and the scab was enormous. So he says "I'm going to go to the doctor and get stitches." And I of course I immediately remember that episode of ER where Dr. Green decides to do something about the long wait all the patients are enduring in their hospital, so he takes the care to the "chairs" and does all this renegade doctor shit. But then he gets to a boy who needed stitches but he can't give them to him because they made him and his mom wait too long in the waiting room, that it's too dangerous to give him stitches. The risk of infection was two great. So I said to Matt, "You can't get stitches it's been too long."
But Matt went to the doctor anyway to get his expert opinion (whatev!). And he showed him his hand and said, "Do I need stitches?" and his doctor said "You can't get stitches it's been too long." So Matt says "that's what the girl at work said."
I mean come on, I am GOOD! So whatever you need I'm the Dr. Nick of Staten Island. "Hey Everybody." "Hello Dr. Nick!" Now I know what you're thinking, that's illegal stupid. And to that I say "come oooooooooooooooooooooon. I got this! Now bend over and cough!"
;)
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