Not too much to post, but I'm posting anyhow because a few of you have let me know you check in regularly to see how I am and what's going on. I appreciate your care, and your going to the trouble to read.

Life's been busy, kind of tumultuous, but not necessarily because of breast cancer treatment. I think the fact that the world's wobbling on its axis since the earthquakes and tsunamis of late has set people to spinning in their personal lives. Who needs a full moon or Mercury to go into retrograde! :-)

Or maybe people being people have just had too much land on their plates recently. A lot of change in the air. Even good change is stress causing, right? Try marital problems, family squabbles, people losing jobs, losing loved ones, facing jail time, suffering with debilitating pain, and let's not forget earthquakes and the ol' mid-life crisis or two. Good luck people! Things will get better!

So. Cancer treatment. For me, so far so good. For my mom, owy. Please say an extra prayer for her. The radiation has done a number on her, and though she is through with her three week dose, she is still feeling the burn throughout her body. It really stinks when someone you love is in pain and you can't do anything to help her.

I will be two weeks through my radiation following tomorrow's treatment. I find myself getting tired more easily, and having sensitivity on my skin, and some headaches, but otherwise feeling pretty good. I am healing well from my surgery, and have begun physical therapy. The PT showed me some stretches and strengthening exercises, and while I'm with her, she does soft tissue massage. It's not what you think--or at least it's not what I thought it would be. Actually, I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. She sort of works the scar tissue. For instance, where the lymph nodes once were--the inside of my left arm--the vessels that once held them remain. Apparently they want to gum up the works, so she sort of works them like you do when your toothpaste tube is almost empty--a pressing pulling motion. Yikes! It burns. But not so bad I can't take it. Every so often she looks at me and says--OK? I give her a grimace--I mean smile--and say sure.

I ran recently. It was so exciting. I would not have considered trying, but the day before, I was listening to a song I really like playing on our computer upstairs. I realized I had to take something out to the recycling bin before the trash men came. I ran it out, and ran back in, literally. And it didn't hurt my arm. Hmm, I thought. Might I try?

The next morning, I asked Richard to go for a walk with me. I told him I might try to jog a bit. I ended up running 2.4 + miles, and walking .6 or so to get home. My knee pinged a little, but my lungs held up nicely. I was listening to music the whole time. Music sometimes can just hit that spot, ya know? Von Ra's Shine played, a poignant song about a musician's need to make it. He sings it so you can feel what he feels, as he digs in his heels and puts his head down and refuses to quit. You can see how that would be a good running song when you hadn't run in months. Then there was Remember What You Like, by Jenny Burton. Ok, I doubt anyone knows who she is. I'll just say, in the early 80's, I listened to her album over and over and over. (On second thought, maybe my mom would recognize the sound (heehee)). Recently I got a wild hair and looked Burton up on Itunes, and bought the album. That song is dancy and ethereal at the same time, and it takes me back to a time when I didn't know what was next and anything was possible. Again--it made for great running. The last song was by the Babies. Remember Change?

People talking, and they're sayin' that you're leavin'.

You're so unhappy, with the way that you been livin'.

Oh, we always wished for money, we always wished for fame,

We think we have the answers,

some things aint ever gonna change.

It doesn't matter who you are, it's all the same.

What's in your heart will never change.

I can't tell you why I love to run to that song. I just do. :-)

As Richie and I walked the last bit of the 3 mile loop (he, btw, ran further than I did. Just have to give him credit!), I found myself crying. It's not the first time this has happened. When I ran during chemo, I would sometimes cry then too. Richie, I'm sure, had no idea. It wasn't a big commotion. I'm sure he just thought I was catching my breath or wiping away some perspiration. I don't know exactly why after I run I am sometimes moved to tears. Because I've actually done it? Because I have so far to go to get back where I was (as far as physical fitness--not to my house heehee)? Because I may never get there? Because life can still be so darn good--when you're just running, and it's sunny, or even raining, and your legs are moving over the ground? Don't know.

Meanwhile the neuropathy keeps progressing. I had no idea when the docs talked to me about this possible side effect of taking the Taxol--nerve damage--it would manifest months later. And not as "tingling fingertips and toes"Not that I could've opted out of the chemo. But it is a big big bummer. I had mentioned in a previous post my feet hurt when I got up from sitting or lying down, but after a few seconds of moving around, they no longer hurt. Well, now they keep hurting. In addition, my hands ache, and I am dropping everything. Miss butterfingers. And I'm clutsy. I fell down the stairs recently. (I managed to catch myself with my owy-arm, so no brain damage. :-)) The neuropathy may or may not be permanent. Everyone tells me to think positive, and I am. But, in the back of my mind I think--will I have trouble walking forever? Will I not be able to run, ever?

The good news is, there's medicine for the pain. The bad news is, it causes swelling, and sometimes--duh-nuh-nuh--weight gain. Can you see my face expression here? 'nuff said. Pray for me--that this won't be a permanent condition, or if it is, that I will have the mental toughness to handle it.

Thanks for reading and happy Easter, everyone!

Radiation Begins

Today is day three of my radiation treatment. Six more weeks to go! :-)

So far, so good. I am not suffering from any side effects yet, and I am told I won't for at least a week, maybe longer. In the meantime, I am trying to do a few things for myself and for Richard--like getting up in the morning with the animals, making coffee and delivering it to him for a change!, fixing meals, etc. I will be feeling fatigued soon enough, (it's a pretty universal side effect) so I might as well enjoy my improved energy levels now.

The radiation routine goes like this. I park, walk into the office and scan my appointment card under a hand held laser to let the techs know I've arrived. I take myself to the changing room, put on a gown, and head to the radiation waiting area. Hardly a minute goes by before one of the techs comes to collect me.

They walk me back to the radiation room, I strip off my gown, and lay on the table. Same position, every time.

Before radiation even begins, the docs tell you about these tattoos you will get, meant to guide the radioactive beams on your body. Hmm. Well, I did get some tattoos. But they are nothing compared to my new chest markings. Markings made with permanent black marker. Lines, boxes, dots, covered with clear tape. I look a little like a puzzle.

"Don't wash these off!" they say.

"Ok," I say. "For how long?"

Blink. Blink....

I can see they don't know how to put this gently. So I wager a guess. "Seven weeks, or so?"

The techs smile. "They might fade."

Good, I think to myself.

"Then we will redraw them," they say cheerfully.

Oh, well. The marking extend under my arms and up to my collar bones. I am thinking of drawing a flower on the top of the most visible line, the one that shows no matter what shirt I have on unless it's a turtle neck, and as it's 85 in the shade these days, I'm not likely to wear one of those any time soon!

The black marker is a small inconvenience at this point. After losing my hair, and eyelashes, and gaining weight, and undergoing surgery and having to give up most normal activities, a little marker showing through my clothes is no big deal. On a happier note, the reverse of some of the trials I mention is so encouraging. I am tickled to have hair on my head, eyelashes to which I can actually apply mascara (though I will probably continue to wear my false eyelashes since I have become an expert at applying them!), and decent looking finger nails. Best of all, I am happy that I have six weeks of treatment left, and hopefully no more for the rest of my life.

One bit of info for any of you who know someone who is or will undergo chemo--specifically the sort that leads to neuropathy. I underwent chemotherapy for six months. The last three months I had a once a week dose of Pacitaxil (not sure of the spelling). I took B6 and a multi B vitamin to prevent long term nerve damage which can result from neuropathy--a side effect of the chemo. This is where a person can't feel her fingers and toes, or at least that is how the nerve damage was described to me. I got a bit of that toward the end of my therapy, and the docs backed off on the dose. Then chemo was over, and I thought that was the end of it, especially since i was told I no longer needed to keep up with my B vitamins.

A few weeks ago, I began to notice that my feet hurt when I got up from sitting, reclining, or lying, even if I'd only been off my feet for five minutes or so. It was a pain that I dismissed at first, as nothing more than an old age ache, but it kept getting worse. I found myself stumbling around like Frankenstein, unable to really use my feet when I stood, until I'd moved around for several seconds. At night, the pain extended to my hips and hands and elbows. Eventually, I could not find a comfortable position while resting--even on Frank's temperpedic!

I knew these were not normal aches and pains, (and may I say at this point I trust my instincts when it comes to my body, since my instincts probably saved my arse this go round.) so I looked it up--God love Google. "Feet hurt after chemo," I typed. I was hoping not to find I had developed arthritis after all this, and thought chemo was a good starting place. Guess what? It's neuropathy. Evidently, neuropathy is not just about numb fingers and toes, and apparently, the symptoms peak 3-5 months after the last dose of chemo--something I was completely unaware of. My last dose was February 13th, which puts me two months out. Mystery solved. Hopefully this will shed some light on this phenomena for some other poor sot wondering what in the hell has happened to her feet now that her chemo is in the rear view mirror!

That's all the news fit to report for now!

Have a wonderful rest-of-your week. Muah!