When was your original diagnosis?
4/2005
When did the cancer return and how?
3/2009. I was scheduled for the second stage of my reconstruction and in the mean time my oncologist ordered a CAT and PET scan because my tumor markers were higher. They ended up canceling my surgery the day before it was scheduled. They told me it spread to my bones, lungs, and liver. I ended up getting my ovaries removed 2 months after that.
How did having the cancer return affect you? (Mentally, physically, emotionally) What changes have been made in your life since the cancer returned, if any?
I have to say cancer has affected my life both times, not just because of the return. I learned to not let anything or anyone stop you from doing anything you want to do. I learned to live in the moment and enjoy life for what it is. I learned to appreciate and love your family and friends and tell them how you feel as often as possible, even more. I try to stay positive and only alow positive people into my life. I have changed many things in my life. I have done more things in my life in the last 3 years then I did for the first 28 years. I experienced life and done things that I always wanted to try. Some of the things I tried were photography, kayaking, cross-country skiing, rock climbing, hiking, snorkeling, singing, swing, latin, and ballroom dancing. I received my reiki master, scuba diving certification, directed 2 plays, and I'm working toward my black belt in Kenpo. I have also traveled more and have been to Ireland, Scotland, England, Wales, and Paris among my favorites. I also returned to school for something I have wanted to do almost my whole life. I'm not happy with my current career. I have also become more spiritual and I try to share the lessons I have learned with all my loved ones. I have had a few of my friends and family do things or make changes in their life that I never thought they would do, but always wished they would. They told me I was their inspiration.
Where do you draw your strength from? How do you look at life today?
I draw my strength from myself. I think I am a very strong person. Don't get me wrong, I have my moments. But most of the time I am pretty strong. For the moments that I do get weak, I would probably have to say my boyfriend. He is my inspiration. He lost both his parents in the last 4 years and he always knows the right thing to say to get me out of my depressing moods when I find myself there. I look at life as a learning experience and every day there are lessons to be learnt. If you don't learn those lessons, things will keep happening to you until you do. Once you do learn the lessons, you need to share all you have learned with anyone that will listen. It is also a place to enjoy and appreciate. We will not always be here, but we much enjoy it while we are.
Do you have any advice for others with a recurrence?
You made it through the first time so that means you have the strength and determination to make
it through again. Take one day at a time and still continue to live your life. Don't let this run your life, take control.
Anything else to add?
Love yourself and don't be afraid to tell your loved one's that you love them every day.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Asparagus vs Cancer
"My Mom had been taking the full-stalk canned style asparagus that she pureed and she took 4 tablespoons in the morning and 4 tablespoons later in the day. She did this for over a month. She is on chemo pills for Stage 3 lung cancer in the pleural area and her cancer cell count went from 386 down to 125 as of this past week. Her oncologist said she does not need to see him for 3 months."
THE ARTICLE:
Several years ago, I had a man seeking asparagus for a friend who had cancer. He gave me a photocopied copy of an article, entitled, `Asparagus for cancer' printed in Cancer News Journal .I will share it here, just as it was shared with me: I am a biochemist, and have specialized in the relation of diet to health for over 50 years.
Several years ago, I learned of the discovery of Richard R. Vensal, D.D.S. that asparagus might cure cancer. Since then, I have worked with him on his project. We have accumulated a number of favorable case histories.Here are a few examples:
Case No. 1, A man with an almost hopeless case of Hodgkin's disease (cancer of the lymph glands) who was completely incapacitated. Within 1 year of starting the asparagus therapy, his doctors were unable to detect any signs of cancer, and he was back on a schedule of strenuous exercise.
Case No. 2, a successful businessman 68 years old who suffered from cancer of the bladder for 16 years. After years of medical treatments, including radiation without improvement, he went on asparagus. Within 3 months, examinations revealed that his bladder tumor had disappeared and that his kidneys were normal.
Case No. 3, a man who had lung cancer. On March 5th , he was put on the operating table where they found lung cancer so widely spread that it was inoperable. The surgeon sewed him up and declared his case hopeless. On April 5th he heard about the asparagus therapy and immediately started taking it.By August, x-ray pictures revealed that all signs of the cancer had disappeared.. He is back at his regular business routine.
Case No. 4, a woman who was troubled for a number of years with skin cancer. She finally developed different skin cancers which were diagnosed by asking specialist as advanced.... Within 3 months after starting on asparagus, her skin specialist said that her skin looked fine and no more skin lesions. This woman reported that the asparagus therapy also cure her kidney disease, which started in 1949. She had over 10 operations for kidney stones, and was receiving government disability payments for an inoperable, terminal, kidney condition She attributes the cure of this kidney trouble entirely to the asparagus.
I was not surprised at this result, as `The elements of materia medica', edited in 1854 by a Professor at the University of Pennsylvania , stated that asparagus was used as a popularremedy for kidney stones He even referred to experiments, in 1739, on the power of asparagus in dissolving stones.
We would have other case histories but the medical establishment has interfered with our obtaining some of the records. I am therefore appealing to readers to spread this good news and help us to gather a large number of case histories that will overwhelm the medical skeptics about this unbelievably simple and natural remedy.
For the treatment, asparagus should be cooked before using, and therefore canned asparagus is just as good as fresh. I have corresponded with the two leading canners of asparagus, Giant and Stokely, and I am satisfied that these brands contain no pesticides or preservatives.
Place the cooked asparagus in a blender and liquefy to make a puree, and store in the refrigerator. Give the patient 4 full tablespoons twice daily, morning and evening.
Patients usually show some improvement in from 2-4 weeks. It can be diluted with water and used as a cold or hot drink. This suggested dosage is based on present experience, but certainly larger amounts can do no harm and may be needed in some cases.
As a biochemist I am convinced of the old saying that `what cures can prevent' Based on this theory, my wife and I have been using asparagus puree as a beverage with our meals.
We take 2 tablespoons diluted in water to suit our taste with breakfast and with dinner. I take mine hot and my wife prefers hers cold. For years we have made it a practice to have blood surveys taken as part of our regular checkups..
The last blood survey, taken by a medical doctor who specializes in the nutritional approach to health, showed substantial improvements in all categories over the last one, and we can attribute these improvements to nothing but the asparagus drink...
As a biochemist, I have made an extensive study of all aspects of cancer, and all of the proposed cures. As a result, I am convinced that asparagus fits in better with the latest theories about cancer. Asparagus contains a good supply of protein called histones,which are believed to be active in controlling cell growth. For that reason, I believe asparagus can be said to contain a substance that I call cell growth normalizer. That accountsfor its action on cancer and in acting as a general body tonic.
In any event, regardless of theory, asparagus used as we suggest, is a harmless substance. The FDA cannot prevent you from using it and it may do you much good.It has been reported by the US National Cancer Institute, that asparagus is the highest tested food containing glutathione, which is considered one of the body's most potent anticarcinogens and antioxidants.
THE ARTICLE:
Several years ago, I had a man seeking asparagus for a friend who had cancer. He gave me a photocopied copy of an article, entitled, `Asparagus for cancer' printed in Cancer News Journal .I will share it here, just as it was shared with me: I am a biochemist, and have specialized in the relation of diet to health for over 50 years.
Several years ago, I learned of the discovery of Richard R. Vensal, D.D.S. that asparagus might cure cancer. Since then, I have worked with him on his project. We have accumulated a number of favorable case histories.Here are a few examples:
Case No. 1, A man with an almost hopeless case of Hodgkin's disease (cancer of the lymph glands) who was completely incapacitated. Within 1 year of starting the asparagus therapy, his doctors were unable to detect any signs of cancer, and he was back on a schedule of strenuous exercise.
Case No. 2, a successful businessman 68 years old who suffered from cancer of the bladder for 16 years. After years of medical treatments, including radiation without improvement, he went on asparagus. Within 3 months, examinations revealed that his bladder tumor had disappeared and that his kidneys were normal.
Case No. 3, a man who had lung cancer. On March 5th , he was put on the operating table where they found lung cancer so widely spread that it was inoperable. The surgeon sewed him up and declared his case hopeless. On April 5th he heard about the asparagus therapy and immediately started taking it.By August, x-ray pictures revealed that all signs of the cancer had disappeared.. He is back at his regular business routine.
Case No. 4, a woman who was troubled for a number of years with skin cancer. She finally developed different skin cancers which were diagnosed by asking specialist as advanced.... Within 3 months after starting on asparagus, her skin specialist said that her skin looked fine and no more skin lesions. This woman reported that the asparagus therapy also cure her kidney disease, which started in 1949. She had over 10 operations for kidney stones, and was receiving government disability payments for an inoperable, terminal, kidney condition She attributes the cure of this kidney trouble entirely to the asparagus.
I was not surprised at this result, as `The elements of materia medica', edited in 1854 by a Professor at the University of Pennsylvania , stated that asparagus was used as a popularremedy for kidney stones He even referred to experiments, in 1739, on the power of asparagus in dissolving stones.
We would have other case histories but the medical establishment has interfered with our obtaining some of the records. I am therefore appealing to readers to spread this good news and help us to gather a large number of case histories that will overwhelm the medical skeptics about this unbelievably simple and natural remedy.
For the treatment, asparagus should be cooked before using, and therefore canned asparagus is just as good as fresh. I have corresponded with the two leading canners of asparagus, Giant and Stokely, and I am satisfied that these brands contain no pesticides or preservatives.
Place the cooked asparagus in a blender and liquefy to make a puree, and store in the refrigerator. Give the patient 4 full tablespoons twice daily, morning and evening.
Patients usually show some improvement in from 2-4 weeks. It can be diluted with water and used as a cold or hot drink. This suggested dosage is based on present experience, but certainly larger amounts can do no harm and may be needed in some cases.
As a biochemist I am convinced of the old saying that `what cures can prevent' Based on this theory, my wife and I have been using asparagus puree as a beverage with our meals.
We take 2 tablespoons diluted in water to suit our taste with breakfast and with dinner. I take mine hot and my wife prefers hers cold. For years we have made it a practice to have blood surveys taken as part of our regular checkups..
The last blood survey, taken by a medical doctor who specializes in the nutritional approach to health, showed substantial improvements in all categories over the last one, and we can attribute these improvements to nothing but the asparagus drink...
As a biochemist, I have made an extensive study of all aspects of cancer, and all of the proposed cures. As a result, I am convinced that asparagus fits in better with the latest theories about cancer. Asparagus contains a good supply of protein called histones,which are believed to be active in controlling cell growth. For that reason, I believe asparagus can be said to contain a substance that I call cell growth normalizer. That accountsfor its action on cancer and in acting as a general body tonic.
In any event, regardless of theory, asparagus used as we suggest, is a harmless substance. The FDA cannot prevent you from using it and it may do you much good.It has been reported by the US National Cancer Institute, that asparagus is the highest tested food containing glutathione, which is considered one of the body's most potent anticarcinogens and antioxidants.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Dance with my Father
It is probably fair to say that I miss my father since his death last year. But then, I’ve been missing my father most of my life.
I think back to a day when I was about ten years old, before my parents divorced. My mom told me that Daddy would be coming home soon for supper (as we always called it in the Maritimes) and I decided to walk down Herring Cove Road towards the Armdale Rotary to meet him.
I remember walking along the gravel shoulder of the road, watching for my dad’s car in what was probably considered rush hour traffic in those days, feeling the coolness of the spring ground through the rubber soles of the sneakers that my mom bought me every year from a bin at Lawton's drug store. I imagined that my dad would stop and pick me up; he would be so happy to see me. I would get to sit in the front seat with him, listening to the radio, and we would arrive back home together.
He never came. I walked for what seemed like a very long time before I turned around. He probably took an alternative route home, or maybe, because my parents’ marriage was already in trouble, he didn’t come home at all that night; I’m not sure. What I do know is that it was the start of a lifetime of missing my father.
I left home when I was only seventeen and lived most of my life in Ottawa. When I decided to get married, my dad didn’t attend the wedding. He said he couldn’t afford to travel from Halifax to Ottawa.
I longed to hear him say “I’ll find the money somewhere, don't you worry about it. I’ll take a second job. I’ll drive all night. I’ll do whatever I have to do to be at your wedding, because I’m your father and that’s what fathers do”. The marriage didn’t last and it was a lifetime ago, but it still causes me pain when I remember that my father wasn’t at my wedding to walk me down the aisle.
In the years since I moved away, my dad only came to visit me once. I was in my twenties and my son Adam was only a few years old. During the visit I developed an ear infection and the doctor prescribed drops that had to be put into my ear canal. My dad offered to help me and I still remember how it felt for him to touch me, to take care of me, to cradle my head in his hand while he put the drops in my ear.
I’ve seen pictures of me on my dad’s knee as a baby, but I don’t’ remember him ever touching me or holding me. The only memory I have is of him putting those drops in my ear when I was a young woman and it has stayed with me for thirty years.
Time went by and I usually went home to Nova Scotia every year or two. I always went to visit my dad when I was there, sometimes reluctantly. Usually the visit would be awkward and we wouldn’t have a lot to say to one another. Phone calls were about the weather and neighbors that I didn’t know. We might as well have lived on separate planets, our lives were so different.
After I found out that the breast cancer I had in 1998 was back and had spread to my lungs, I decided I needed to go home to Halifax to be near the ocean, to mentally prepare myself to start chemotherapy again. My son Adam flew from the Netherlands to be with me and we planned to meet my dad for lunch. Adam hadn’t seen his grandfather since he was about 13.
During the visit, my dad didn’t mention the cancer or ask me about my treatments. Instead, he brought up something that happened between him and my mom when I was a child, something that didn’t involve me but painted my mom in a negative light.
I lost it. My emotions were on the edge and all of the hurt I had been feeling about our relationship started spilling out of me, like a time bomb that had been ticking for longer than I can remember. I hadn’t really cried since I found out that the cancer was back, but the floodgates had been opened and there was no turning back.
I stood on the sidewalk outside of his car and yelled at him, tears streaming down my face. “Why haven’t you asked about my treatments, how I’ve been feeling, if there’s anything I need? Why are you talking about things from 40 years ago that no longer matter? Why can’t you ever just be there for me?”
I can still see the look of shock on his face. He didn’t know what to say, so he just stood there. Finally, when I thought I had nothing left to say, he hugged me. As I sobbed on his shoulder, I said something that I hadn’t said to anyone else. “I’m scared. I’m just so scared”. I felt like a child again, a child who needed her daddy to make everything OK.
That was the last time I saw my dad alive. A little over a month later he went into the woods to hunt and never came home. He died the way he lived much of his life, alone. He sat down under a tree, waiting for the ducks to fly over, and he had a heart attack.
To say that my relationship with my dad was complicated is an understatement. I’ve spent my life missing the father-daughter relationship that never was. Part of me feels angry that when I finally found it in me to tell him how I felt, he died. Part of me feels guilty that I hurt him. Part of me feels sad that I didn’t tell him sooner, while we might have had the chance to change some things.
At least that was my fantasy: that we could change things and have the kind of relationship that I longed for my whole life. But the reality was that even if I had told my dad how I felt years ago, I don’t believe that he was capable of being the father that I needed. I know he never wanted to intentionally hurt me; he just didn’t seem to know how to be any other way.
I miss what might have been and never was. I’m not a religious person but I like the idea that if there is something beyond this life, that maybe we’ll have another chance to get it right. Maybe I’ll be small again and my dad will lift me up in the air and twirl me around. Maybe he’ll protect me and keep me safe from harm. Maybe he’ll ask about my dreams and fears, and he’ll listen to my answers. Maybe he’ll hold me and tell me that everything will be OK.
Maybe I’ll get to do something that I never did in this lifetime: dance with my father.
I think back to a day when I was about ten years old, before my parents divorced. My mom told me that Daddy would be coming home soon for supper (as we always called it in the Maritimes) and I decided to walk down Herring Cove Road towards the Armdale Rotary to meet him.
I remember walking along the gravel shoulder of the road, watching for my dad’s car in what was probably considered rush hour traffic in those days, feeling the coolness of the spring ground through the rubber soles of the sneakers that my mom bought me every year from a bin at Lawton's drug store. I imagined that my dad would stop and pick me up; he would be so happy to see me. I would get to sit in the front seat with him, listening to the radio, and we would arrive back home together.
He never came. I walked for what seemed like a very long time before I turned around. He probably took an alternative route home, or maybe, because my parents’ marriage was already in trouble, he didn’t come home at all that night; I’m not sure. What I do know is that it was the start of a lifetime of missing my father.
I left home when I was only seventeen and lived most of my life in Ottawa. When I decided to get married, my dad didn’t attend the wedding. He said he couldn’t afford to travel from Halifax to Ottawa.
I longed to hear him say “I’ll find the money somewhere, don't you worry about it. I’ll take a second job. I’ll drive all night. I’ll do whatever I have to do to be at your wedding, because I’m your father and that’s what fathers do”. The marriage didn’t last and it was a lifetime ago, but it still causes me pain when I remember that my father wasn’t at my wedding to walk me down the aisle.
In the years since I moved away, my dad only came to visit me once. I was in my twenties and my son Adam was only a few years old. During the visit I developed an ear infection and the doctor prescribed drops that had to be put into my ear canal. My dad offered to help me and I still remember how it felt for him to touch me, to take care of me, to cradle my head in his hand while he put the drops in my ear.
I’ve seen pictures of me on my dad’s knee as a baby, but I don’t’ remember him ever touching me or holding me. The only memory I have is of him putting those drops in my ear when I was a young woman and it has stayed with me for thirty years.
Time went by and I usually went home to Nova Scotia every year or two. I always went to visit my dad when I was there, sometimes reluctantly. Usually the visit would be awkward and we wouldn’t have a lot to say to one another. Phone calls were about the weather and neighbors that I didn’t know. We might as well have lived on separate planets, our lives were so different.
After I found out that the breast cancer I had in 1998 was back and had spread to my lungs, I decided I needed to go home to Halifax to be near the ocean, to mentally prepare myself to start chemotherapy again. My son Adam flew from the Netherlands to be with me and we planned to meet my dad for lunch. Adam hadn’t seen his grandfather since he was about 13.
During the visit, my dad didn’t mention the cancer or ask me about my treatments. Instead, he brought up something that happened between him and my mom when I was a child, something that didn’t involve me but painted my mom in a negative light.
I lost it. My emotions were on the edge and all of the hurt I had been feeling about our relationship started spilling out of me, like a time bomb that had been ticking for longer than I can remember. I hadn’t really cried since I found out that the cancer was back, but the floodgates had been opened and there was no turning back.
I stood on the sidewalk outside of his car and yelled at him, tears streaming down my face. “Why haven’t you asked about my treatments, how I’ve been feeling, if there’s anything I need? Why are you talking about things from 40 years ago that no longer matter? Why can’t you ever just be there for me?”
I can still see the look of shock on his face. He didn’t know what to say, so he just stood there. Finally, when I thought I had nothing left to say, he hugged me. As I sobbed on his shoulder, I said something that I hadn’t said to anyone else. “I’m scared. I’m just so scared”. I felt like a child again, a child who needed her daddy to make everything OK.
That was the last time I saw my dad alive. A little over a month later he went into the woods to hunt and never came home. He died the way he lived much of his life, alone. He sat down under a tree, waiting for the ducks to fly over, and he had a heart attack.
To say that my relationship with my dad was complicated is an understatement. I’ve spent my life missing the father-daughter relationship that never was. Part of me feels angry that when I finally found it in me to tell him how I felt, he died. Part of me feels guilty that I hurt him. Part of me feels sad that I didn’t tell him sooner, while we might have had the chance to change some things.
At least that was my fantasy: that we could change things and have the kind of relationship that I longed for my whole life. But the reality was that even if I had told my dad how I felt years ago, I don’t believe that he was capable of being the father that I needed. I know he never wanted to intentionally hurt me; he just didn’t seem to know how to be any other way.
I miss what might have been and never was. I’m not a religious person but I like the idea that if there is something beyond this life, that maybe we’ll have another chance to get it right. Maybe I’ll be small again and my dad will lift me up in the air and twirl me around. Maybe he’ll protect me and keep me safe from harm. Maybe he’ll ask about my dreams and fears, and he’ll listen to my answers. Maybe he’ll hold me and tell me that everything will be OK.
Maybe I’ll get to do something that I never did in this lifetime: dance with my father.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Definitions
Aromatase inhibitors (AI): a class of drugs used in the treatment of breast cancer and ovarian cancer in postmenopausal women that block the aromatase enzyme. Examples: Aromasin, Femara. I was on both of these drugs and they eventually stopped working for me.
Bone scan - A technique to create images of bones on a computer screen or on film. It can be used to detect cancer in the bone.
CT scan [also called computed tomography, computerized tomography, computerized axial tomography, and CAT scan] - A series of detailed pictures of areas inside the body, taken from different angles, created by an x-ray machine linked to a computer.
Chemotherapy - Chemotherapy, in its most general sense, refers to treatment of disease by chemicals that kill cells that divide rapidly, one of the main properties of cancer cells. It also harms cells that divide rapidly under normal circumstances: cells in the bone marrow, digestive tract and hair follicles. This results in the most common side-effects of chemotherapy: decreased production of blood cells, inflammation of the lining of the digestive tract and alopecia (hair loss).
Estrogen receptor: A protein on the surface or inside a cell that the hormone estrogen binds to.
Estrogen receptor positive [also called ER+] - Breast cancer cells that have estrogen receptors. Breast cancer cells that are ER+ depend on estrogen to grow.
Femara (chemical name: letrozole) - A drug that lowers the amount of estrogen made in the body after menopause. This can slow or stop the growth of cancer that needs estrogen to grow. It belongs to the group of drugs called "aromatase inhibitors".
Fulvestrant (brand name: Faslodex) - A drug used as a "second-line" hormonal therapy for women after menopause with advanced breast cancer that has hormone receptors. This means it is used after other hormonal treatments (e.g. Tamoxafin, Femara, Aromasin) have stopped working. It can slow or stop the growth of cancer that needs estrogen to grow. This is the drug that I am receiving now.
Incurable – There is no chance (or in the case of metastatic breast cancer, a 1-3% chance) of a cure. The person has a chronic disease that can be managed for long periods of time with chemotherapy and other treatments. This is where I classify myself.
Lung metastases - Cancer that has spread from the main (primary) tumor to the lung. If breast cancer metastasizes to the lung, the secondary tumor in the lung is made up of abnormal breast cells, not of abnormal lung cells. The tumor in the lung is then called metastatic breast cancer, not lung cancer.
Metastatic (plural: metastases): Metastatic breast cancer is the spread of cancer from the breast to another part of the body. When this occurs, the new tumor is called a secondary or metastatic tumor, and its cells are like those in the original tumor. (Although the cancer is in my lung, it is not lung cancer. It is metastatic breast cancer in the lung).
Oncologist - A doctor who specializes in taking care of people with cancer. Some specialize in one type of cancer treatment. For example, a radiation oncologist treats cancer with radiation, and a medical oncologist treats cancer with medications. I am currently seeing a medical oncologist.
Palliative therapy - Treatment to relieve symptoms caused by advanced cancer. Its purpose is to improve the quality of life. (I have trouble with this one. According to my medical file, my treatment is considered 'palliative'. I think of palliative as what they do when you are dying. And I'm not dying!!!)
Port-a-cath [also called port] - A small device placed under the skin. It empties into a blood vessel and makes it easier to give chemotherapy and to take blood for tests.
Recurrence - This is when a cancer comes back after treatment. It can come back in the same place as the original one (local recurrence) or in a different part of the body (metastatic recurrence).
Stage IV breast cancer - invasive breast cancer in which the cancer has spread to other organs of the body -- usually the lungs, liver, bone, or brain. Once the cancer was found in the lung, I was classified as Stage IV.
Tamoxifen - A drug used to fight breast cancer cells that have hormone receptors. It blocks estrogen receptors on breast cancer cells. This can slow down or stop the growth of cancers that need estrogen to grow. It belongs to the family of drugs called "selective estrogen receptor modulators," or "SERMs."
Taxotere (chemical name: docetaxel) - A type of chemotherapy drug that kills cancer cells by stopping their growth. It can also make it hard for cancer cells to repair themselves. (Taxotere is the chemo drug that I just completed 8 rounds of).
Terminal – I couldn’t find a definition online. While people use this term to describe incurable cancer, my definition is: There is nothing more that can be done and the person is dying.
Bone scan - A technique to create images of bones on a computer screen or on film. It can be used to detect cancer in the bone.
CT scan [also called computed tomography, computerized tomography, computerized axial tomography, and CAT scan] - A series of detailed pictures of areas inside the body, taken from different angles, created by an x-ray machine linked to a computer.
Chemotherapy - Chemotherapy, in its most general sense, refers to treatment of disease by chemicals that kill cells that divide rapidly, one of the main properties of cancer cells. It also harms cells that divide rapidly under normal circumstances: cells in the bone marrow, digestive tract and hair follicles. This results in the most common side-effects of chemotherapy: decreased production of blood cells, inflammation of the lining of the digestive tract and alopecia (hair loss).
Estrogen receptor: A protein on the surface or inside a cell that the hormone estrogen binds to.
Estrogen receptor positive [also called ER+] - Breast cancer cells that have estrogen receptors. Breast cancer cells that are ER+ depend on estrogen to grow.
Femara (chemical name: letrozole) - A drug that lowers the amount of estrogen made in the body after menopause. This can slow or stop the growth of cancer that needs estrogen to grow. It belongs to the group of drugs called "aromatase inhibitors".
Fulvestrant (brand name: Faslodex) - A drug used as a "second-line" hormonal therapy for women after menopause with advanced breast cancer that has hormone receptors. This means it is used after other hormonal treatments (e.g. Tamoxafin, Femara, Aromasin) have stopped working. It can slow or stop the growth of cancer that needs estrogen to grow. This is the drug that I am receiving now.
Incurable – There is no chance (or in the case of metastatic breast cancer, a 1-3% chance) of a cure. The person has a chronic disease that can be managed for long periods of time with chemotherapy and other treatments. This is where I classify myself.
Lung metastases - Cancer that has spread from the main (primary) tumor to the lung. If breast cancer metastasizes to the lung, the secondary tumor in the lung is made up of abnormal breast cells, not of abnormal lung cells. The tumor in the lung is then called metastatic breast cancer, not lung cancer.
Metastatic (plural: metastases): Metastatic breast cancer is the spread of cancer from the breast to another part of the body. When this occurs, the new tumor is called a secondary or metastatic tumor, and its cells are like those in the original tumor. (Although the cancer is in my lung, it is not lung cancer. It is metastatic breast cancer in the lung).
Oncologist - A doctor who specializes in taking care of people with cancer. Some specialize in one type of cancer treatment. For example, a radiation oncologist treats cancer with radiation, and a medical oncologist treats cancer with medications. I am currently seeing a medical oncologist.
Palliative therapy - Treatment to relieve symptoms caused by advanced cancer. Its purpose is to improve the quality of life. (I have trouble with this one. According to my medical file, my treatment is considered 'palliative'. I think of palliative as what they do when you are dying. And I'm not dying!!!)
Port-a-cath [also called port] - A small device placed under the skin. It empties into a blood vessel and makes it easier to give chemotherapy and to take blood for tests.
Recurrence - This is when a cancer comes back after treatment. It can come back in the same place as the original one (local recurrence) or in a different part of the body (metastatic recurrence).
Stage IV breast cancer - invasive breast cancer in which the cancer has spread to other organs of the body -- usually the lungs, liver, bone, or brain. Once the cancer was found in the lung, I was classified as Stage IV.
Tamoxifen - A drug used to fight breast cancer cells that have hormone receptors. It blocks estrogen receptors on breast cancer cells. This can slow down or stop the growth of cancers that need estrogen to grow. It belongs to the family of drugs called "selective estrogen receptor modulators," or "SERMs."
Taxotere (chemical name: docetaxel) - A type of chemotherapy drug that kills cancer cells by stopping their growth. It can also make it hard for cancer cells to repair themselves. (Taxotere is the chemo drug that I just completed 8 rounds of).
Terminal – I couldn’t find a definition online. While people use this term to describe incurable cancer, my definition is: There is nothing more that can be done and the person is dying.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
My decision to take the first-best medicine
My oncologist once said she'd worry if my tumour marker count doubled, but not if it just crept up point by point. Well, it quadrupled over a little more than six weeks. And a CT scan confirmed that the cancer has spread beyond my vertebrae and femur. It looks like the endocrine therapy I've been on for a while - the "mouse poop" shots and Tamoxifen, which together moved me into hot flash city - isn't working so well.
So a decision had to be made. Do I try another hormone therapy such as an aromatase inhibitor, which tries to further eliminate the availability of estrogen to my cancer cells, or do I skip that and head directly to chemo therapy?
Given that my cancer hasn't responded that well to hormone therapy, an aromatase inhibitor is a possibility, but unlikely to be effective. And given that my cancer is chemo-naive (I wish I could go back to being chemo-naive), walloping it with a combination chemotherapy might halt the spread of cancer cells and actually reduce the tumour burden I now have.
I've always had mixed feelings about chemotherapy. For that matter, I 've a lways had mixed feelings about taking any sort of medication. But chemotherapy carries with it an especially large amount of baggage. I don't like the idea of beating down my immune system just when I need it most. I don't relish the injection of stuff that's so toxic, health-care providers have to protect themselves from being in contact with it. And I don't think too positively about the chance of experiencing intense side effects that could well make me weaker, not stronger, in the face of a terminal illness.
I've also read a lot of journal articles that suggest chemotherapy often doesn't significantly prolong the lives of those of us with metastatic breast cancer.
Researchers in Canada and Australia have come up with a decision aid for people facing these sorts of choices. It is in the form of a workbook in which information and questions are presented, and a decision-making structure is suggested. This structure is based on identifying positive factors, such as the possibility of living longer (and why this is important), an improvement of symptoms and a sense of empowerment in terms of doing something to actively fight the disease. One's responses to these factors can be weighed against what many of us see as the negative aspects of chemotherapy - such as uncomfortable and sometimes dangerous side effects, needing tests and having to go to the hospital frequently - and the fact that there is no guarantee the treatment will actually work.
While I haven't seen the actual workbook (it is still being evaluated in anticipation of its adoption by at least some oncologists), I have read a discussion about it in the journal Health Expectations. It helped me organize my thoughts, and it was useful to put myself in the larger context of other women with metastatic breast cancer facing this sort of decision.
Even given all this, though, it really doesn't feel like I have much of a choice. I could stop all treatments and let the disease run its course. I could try an endocrine therapy that is unlikely to work. I could pursue alternative treatments, such as following the raw diet that is all the rage in a lot of popular cancer literature or taking lots of supplements and "natural" remedies when none of these has been proven or supported in the medical literature. Or I could pursue the treatment that represents the current paradigm in cancer medicine. And that's what I've decided to do.
I never thought I would agree to chemotherapy that is unlikely to cure my disease. But now that I have, I'm pretty committed to this course of action. Those of us born under the Aries horoscope sign tend to look for, and thrive on, challenges. My favourite astrologer, Jonathan Cainer, says that us Rams have the "tendency to create a life full of difficulty, just so that ... [we] ... always have something to sort out" ( www.cainer.com). He goes on to say that "there's nothing ... [we] ... can't tackle if ... [we] ... try." I'm now at a time when these traits, long bemoaned by those around me, should come in handy.
It feels like a fortuitous coincidence that, on the night before this challenge was presented to me, Dr. Robert Buckman was featured on CBC Radio's Ideas series. He is an oncologist who also lectures, and he wrote the book Cancer is a Word, Not a Sentence. Laughter, he says, is the second-best medicine. What is the first-best medicine, in his view? Medicine.
I'll have to remember that during my chemotherapy sessions, and as I try to keep my sense of humour intact throughout the next few months of treatment. My friend Margaret's daughter Anna has already offered to draw green eyebrows on my face to replace the ones I'll be losing. Maybe that will help in the humour department.
* Sue Hendler is a former member of the Whig-Standard's Community Editorial Board. She is contributing regular columns on her experiences while she travels her breast cancer journey.
http://www.kingstonwhigstandard.com/ArticleDisplay.aspx?e=1342637
So a decision had to be made. Do I try another hormone therapy such as an aromatase inhibitor, which tries to further eliminate the availability of estrogen to my cancer cells, or do I skip that and head directly to chemo therapy?
Given that my cancer hasn't responded that well to hormone therapy, an aromatase inhibitor is a possibility, but unlikely to be effective. And given that my cancer is chemo-naive (I wish I could go back to being chemo-naive), walloping it with a combination chemotherapy might halt the spread of cancer cells and actually reduce the tumour burden I now have.
I've always had mixed feelings about chemotherapy. For that matter, I 've a lways had mixed feelings about taking any sort of medication. But chemotherapy carries with it an especially large amount of baggage. I don't like the idea of beating down my immune system just when I need it most. I don't relish the injection of stuff that's so toxic, health-care providers have to protect themselves from being in contact with it. And I don't think too positively about the chance of experiencing intense side effects that could well make me weaker, not stronger, in the face of a terminal illness.
I've also read a lot of journal articles that suggest chemotherapy often doesn't significantly prolong the lives of those of us with metastatic breast cancer.
Researchers in Canada and Australia have come up with a decision aid for people facing these sorts of choices. It is in the form of a workbook in which information and questions are presented, and a decision-making structure is suggested. This structure is based on identifying positive factors, such as the possibility of living longer (and why this is important), an improvement of symptoms and a sense of empowerment in terms of doing something to actively fight the disease. One's responses to these factors can be weighed against what many of us see as the negative aspects of chemotherapy - such as uncomfortable and sometimes dangerous side effects, needing tests and having to go to the hospital frequently - and the fact that there is no guarantee the treatment will actually work.
While I haven't seen the actual workbook (it is still being evaluated in anticipation of its adoption by at least some oncologists), I have read a discussion about it in the journal Health Expectations. It helped me organize my thoughts, and it was useful to put myself in the larger context of other women with metastatic breast cancer facing this sort of decision.
Even given all this, though, it really doesn't feel like I have much of a choice. I could stop all treatments and let the disease run its course. I could try an endocrine therapy that is unlikely to work. I could pursue alternative treatments, such as following the raw diet that is all the rage in a lot of popular cancer literature or taking lots of supplements and "natural" remedies when none of these has been proven or supported in the medical literature. Or I could pursue the treatment that represents the current paradigm in cancer medicine. And that's what I've decided to do.
I never thought I would agree to chemotherapy that is unlikely to cure my disease. But now that I have, I'm pretty committed to this course of action. Those of us born under the Aries horoscope sign tend to look for, and thrive on, challenges. My favourite astrologer, Jonathan Cainer, says that us Rams have the "tendency to create a life full of difficulty, just so that ... [we] ... always have something to sort out" ( www.cainer.com). He goes on to say that "there's nothing ... [we] ... can't tackle if ... [we] ... try." I'm now at a time when these traits, long bemoaned by those around me, should come in handy.
It feels like a fortuitous coincidence that, on the night before this challenge was presented to me, Dr. Robert Buckman was featured on CBC Radio's Ideas series. He is an oncologist who also lectures, and he wrote the book Cancer is a Word, Not a Sentence. Laughter, he says, is the second-best medicine. What is the first-best medicine, in his view? Medicine.
I'll have to remember that during my chemotherapy sessions, and as I try to keep my sense of humour intact throughout the next few months of treatment. My friend Margaret's daughter Anna has already offered to draw green eyebrows on my face to replace the ones I'll be losing. Maybe that will help in the humour department.
* Sue Hendler is a former member of the Whig-Standard's Community Editorial Board. She is contributing regular columns on her experiences while she travels her breast cancer journey.
http://www.kingstonwhigstandard.com/ArticleDisplay.aspx?e=1342637
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