#17 February 8-17

 For some reason I was very apprehensive going into my 3^rd infusion. I was feeling so good, I guess I was afraid that getting shot down again was going to be very difficult to come back up.  I was right.

My third infusion, as with the other two was uneventful. No pains, no nausea, etc. I took my proscribed meds, went back in the next day for the Skele-Gro shot, and was doing quite well. 

We had our last season tickets for one of the regional theaters to which we subscribe on Wednesday to see a production of Bye, Bye Birdie. This particular venue has a lovely restaurant attached to the theater, and we had a great lunch. I had been purposely avoiding a lot of vegetables, not wanting to upset my GI tract any more than it already was, but I had a Caesar salad, and broccoli, and a lovely filet for lunch – first time to eat red meat in a long time.

The show was fun, albeit somewhat dated, the leads were great, in fact better than the show. Had a nice evening, went to bed and right to sleep until about 11:30 p.m. when all hell broke loose. I woke to severe abdominal pain which was only slightly lessened by a stint in the bathroom, and which continued all night. By the time 8 a.m. rolled around, the pain had settled in my left side. I could barely move; any pressure such as trying to sit up or stand hurt tremendously. Then, I would have these spasms which were truly some of the worst pain I have ever had in my life.

The only reason I hadn’t called my oncologist was that I didn’t want to go into the ER, but when I did call her after 8, that’s exactly where she told me I needed to go. She said that I might have diverticulitis and needed to get into the hospital. She called ahead to the ER and told them I was coming, but it didn’t seem to help at all. Although I told them at the triage, that I was having spasms of pain on the 8-9 level (10 being the screaming type of pain,) I sat there for three hours with no relief.

Finally, I was moved to the ER room where my port was accessed, fluids and antibiotics administered, and eventually saw the admitting Dr. He did prescribe a pain shot which helped, but did not eliminate the pain on my left side. The spasms continued, albeit somewhat lessened. I was given some contrast to drink in preparation for a CT scan. The pain continued, and they did eventually give me a different pain shot which was the first time in over 12 hours that I was not in pain.

After the CT scan, we had to wait for it to be read, and eventually, an oncology resident came in to explain that it did show that I had inflammation in my diverticulum, but good news, no abscess or perforation. I was going to be admitted, so I sent my husband home, and waited for a bed to be prepared in the hospital. I wound up being in the ER for over 12 hours before being sent to a room.

Some explanation of diverticulitis. Almost everyone over the age of 40 has a condition called diverticulosis which is where small bulging pouches develop in the digestive tract. Most people are unaware of this. Mine was diagnosed during a screening colonoscopy ten years ago. I have never had a problem with it until now. If the pouches become inflamed or infected, you have a condition called diverticulitis. The most common symptom is abdominal pain, usually on the left side. Bingo! Why did I get this? Can we say chemo?

The treatment for diverticulitis besides massive amounts of antibiotics (especially since I was immuno-suppressed due to chemo,) is bowel rest. Nothing. I couldn’t even have water. I was able to talk them into some ice chips, but that was it. The rest of Thursday evening, and pretty much most of Friday is a blur. I couldn’t stay awake for any length of time. I was still having pain shots (which I’m sure added to the feeling of unconsciousness,) until about Friday afternoon. (Side note: When speaking to my brother on Saturday about how I felt so cognitively impaired on Friday – his response was “How could you tell? You’ve got to love brothers.) I was still having the spasms, but they had lessened in intensity and duration.

By Saturday morning, I was allowed clear liquids, so beef broth tasted like manna from heaven. Unfortunately on Saturday, I also started spiking a temperature, so back to x-rays to rule out pneumonia and other indignities. When the fever breaks, it causes massive sweating. I wake up drenched about midnight Saturday and tell the nurse, I have got to take a shower and have all bed clothes etc. changed. She’s not supposed to let me shower because of my port, but I convince her I will not let water fall upon it, and she allows it. Huge difference.

I stayed on clear liquids until Sunday when I was allowed regular liquids meaning I could now have milk, yogurt etc. At this point chemo appetite reared its ugly head, and I could barely get anything down before it began to taste really awful. I have now had no solid food since Wednesday evening.

Thanks to the antibiotics, the chemo I had had on the previous Monday, and no solid food, I now also had diarrhea. Such fun. After enduring the spasm, I had to get up gingerly, unplug the IV pole, and then make my way to bathroom. After taking this trip multiple times, I did ask why I couldn’t get an anti-spasmodic like Imodium.  I was finally given some Imodium – sweet, blessed relief.

The attending Dr. is still saying a couple more days in the hospital as my white blood count has started to drop. I still run a low grade temp, but nothing Tylenol won’t help. I still have the knot in my left side, although the pain has mostly subsided.

Finally I am allowed a “low res. Diet” meaning food that won’t leave stuff behind in the GI tract. Of course, now I find it almost impossible to eat anything. I do get a banana at each meal and am able to get most of that down. For the other food, I’m lucky to get three or four spoonfuls before I have to quit. My GI tract has settled down however, and when I finally pass something akin to a “normal” BM, I feel like running out into the hall and gathering an audience “Y’all come in here and see what I did!”

Tuesday morning, the Dr. comes in with a smile and says I can go home. O frabjous day! My count has stopped dropping, I’m no longer in pain, and there have been no consequences from my diet. I immediately text my husband to “Come on down!”

Home is the ultimate wonder drug. I kick back in the recliner and fall into the deepest sleep. I’m still having trouble eating, but my wonderful husband is able to offer me more options that don’t have funny tastes. For some reason, I can always eat a baked potato or bread when I can’t eat anything else. Can’t eat much of it, but still anything is good.

I spend the next two days resting, trying to eat, and getting back some strength. Thursday morning, I decide to send my oncologist the following email:

I thought I would send my thoughts to you about the final chemo.

I remember your saying at our first appointment that the biggest key to my non-recurrence was going to be the hormonal therapy since my tumor was so positive for ER and PR. My Ki67 stained 10-15%. What are the chances of saying that my chemo is finished with the three already done instead of continuing with the fourth?

Obviously, I don't want to do anything that will seriously jeopardize my survival, but this last chemo and hospitalization has really thrown me for a loop. Not only will I worry about another diverticulitis flare now that I've awakened that sleeping giant, but the side effects this time have been hard to take as well. I feel much worse than I have during the previous chemo sessions. The hospitalization has exacerbated my lymphedema as well, and I will be making an appointment with the LE therapist today.

Please send me your thoughts.

Not even ten minutes later, I got this response:

                I agree. We will cancel the final chemotherapy dose.

OMG! I cannot begin to describe the joy that flooded my being. To not have that last chemotherapy hanging over my head, was absolutely the best news ever! She went on to say that I needed to get right in with radiation. I had an appointment for March 1^st, but the nurse practitioner was able to get me in on a cancellation, so I’ll be seeing radiation oncology on February 25^th instead.

So NO MO CHEMO for me!