fertility

One of the issues facing young cancer patients that is just starting to get a bit of attention is fertility. Cancer treatments are designed to kill cancer ... and whatever else needs to be killed in order to kill cancer. It's been my experience and my opinion via conversations with others that the field of oncology isn't especially interested in anything that isn't cancer. Unfortunately, that means a lot of side effects are blown off, including but not limited to fertility.

Before I began treatments for my lymphoma, I was told that one of the possible side effects of the chemo was early menopause: my periods would stop during treatment and they might or might not start again.

I only missed one period.

Since chemo, however, I have had a bunch of other odd hormonal side effects that are annoying and slightly disconcerting but probably not life-threatening. No one can tell me why they're happening or if they're a problem (oncologist, primary care doc, ob-gyn), so I've never really been sure if all of the plumbing is working properly or not.

We have confirmation that all systems are in order — I am pregnant!

I have seen two docs so far —one at a birthing center and one in a regular office — and neither was of the opinion that my cancer history is a problem. I suspect that it being in a different part of my body is a big deal, and being in remission for over three years probably helps, too.

So I'm officially on my next wacky body journey, but this time cultivating the growth instead of trying to get rid of it. We'll see how it goes!

progress in the sun

Well, I'm finally seeing progress.

Sun sensitivity was a side effect of the chemo, and because my doc told me that melanoma is a common secondary cancer, I have been vigilant about taking precautions.

My first summer after chemo ('08), I would burn through sunscreen and clothes. It was a summer of staying in the house.

Last summer ('09), I'd burn through sunscreen or clothes, but if I wore both, I'd be OK.

This summer, I'm not burning, as long as I'm covered with one or the other! So last week, I went swimming in my backyard pool during the day for the first time in over three years! Glorious!

That's all the news from here :)

the science behind chemo brain

This article explains chemo brain biologically. Very readable. Very interesting.

another clean scan :)

I had an appointment with the oncologist today, after a chest X-ray and blood work on Thursday. X-ray was clean, blood work looked good. My next appointment is in late May.

Today is two years since I finished radiation. So much has happened in those two years... It feels like much longer ago than that, but I've been a busy chica, and being busy certainly makes time pass more quickly.

This blog has become pretty not interesting, but I guess that's a good thing :)

In the last couple of weeks, I've had three more people comment that I have hair now. This is slightly annoying, since my hair started growing in before I even finished chemo, and that was over two years ago. Not a huge deal by any means, but come on now people. I've moved on. You can, too.

At school, they're participating in the Pennies for Patients drive, which supports people with blood cancers. I'm pretty sure this had nothing to do with me, that it's coincidence. But I told the counselor, who is organizing the whole thing, that if she wanted to let kids know that I had a blood cancer, so this might help people like me, she was welcome to, and that if anyone wanted to talk about it, I'm happy to answer questions. I had quite a few kids ask me questions, which was cool (some of them have been my students for long enough that they remember when I was out). I also had a few kids come in and put change in my box, which I thought was cool. They are competing with other homerooms, so change they give to me doesn't count towards their competition, which makes it that much sweeter for them to do.

I've given up the search for an answer or a cure for chemo boobs. I am dealing with my heart rate issue when I exercise in hopes that it will come down eventually. And I still wear sunscreen, though I don't know if I need to be as vigilant about it or not. No need to press my luck.

Otherwise, lots of good stuff going on professionally and blissfully little to report on the health front. I've been using my NetiPot almost every day when I get home from work, and I'm convinced that is the primary reason that I haven't been sick yet this season. There's still plenty of time, I know, but so far, so good...

Year 3, Day 2

I celebrated two years cancer-free on Saturday! It is fabulous and amazing.

I have been having very significant memory problems recently. I'm not sure it's entirely chemo-brain — why would it suddenly nosedive this far out of treatment? — but I'm sure that's where it's rooted. Even before this recent episode of "What's your name again?" my memory has certainly not been at the same strength that it was pre-chemo. It drives me mad.

I have decided, memory-permitting (haha?), that I am going to attempt to post here every day with something that I'm doing to take care of my body or with news I've come across.

Of course, I was going to start this yesterday and forgot :(

So today's installment is a link to a blog post regarding cancer-related memory issues: click here

blood test results

I went the other day to get blood tests done, one of the things to do from my doc's appointment. I was supposed to go on a specific day in my cycle, which is why I waited so long.

So I went with orders for three tests, plus my orders for my oncologist, since I'm seeing him soon enough. Lots of vials.

I got a message from the doc's office yesterday: "You are not menopausal."

Now, early menopause was a possible side effect of chemo, but if that was going to happen, it would have happened a long time ago. Given that I'm still having regular periods and so on, I had assumed I wasn't menopausal.

I'm a bit disappointed that that's all I found out from those tests. Hm.

Well, I have an ob-gyn who the doc recommended I go see, which I will do shortly. See what she has to say.

the search for a cure for chemo boobs

Time wears on, and still, my boobs rise and fall like the tides.

OK, maybe not really like tides. But they do swell and un-swell on a monthly basis. Except in June they swelled and didn't un-swell until August, and then it was only part way. And now they're swelling again. It's so weird.

So I went to a doc shortly after my previous post. She told me that everyone has a "thing" from chemo, and that's mine. Wow. That was a highly unsatisfying answer.

I made an appointment with the doc who I had initially wanted to see, but her next appointment was a month out. Again, my appointment was a month away, but I decided she had come highly recommended and that it was hopefully worth the wait.

So on Thursday, I had my appointment. She was great. I don't have any more answers than I had a month ago, but there are lots of things we're going to do to see what answers we get. She also gave me recommendations for supplements to take (vitamin E apparently can help to relieve symptoms of PMS) and called yesterday with a recommendation for an OB-gyn to go to. So I need to make an appointment with her.

It very well may end up that this is just a "thing" and there's not much to do about it — or that the treatment for it is something I'm not willing to do — but at least we're looking for some answers.

it's been doctor week!

I had many doc's appointments this week.

My visit to the new GP was completely unsatisfying. She said that everyone has "a thing" after chemo, and it looks like chemo boobs are my thing. She gave me a referral to a cardiologist (who I saw yesterday). She said she could take the plantar warts out herself (appointment for that was Thursday). She recommended Kirkland (read: Costco) vitamins.

In response to a query about why my water weight from my last period hasn't gone away, she said she didn't think it was water, and asked if I've gotten happy. *sigh* She prescribed me a water pill (which, as it turns out, has sun sensitivity as a side effect, so I've not taken it). She said she didn't think it would do anything, but if I wasn't careful, it would make me pass out. Thanks.

Not a great visit.

I went Tuesday night to the i[2]y meeting about fertility issues. The nurse there suggested that a general hormone panel would be an appropriate first step to finding out what's going on. When I find my next new doctor, I will make an inquiry.

Also at that meeting, I met a Hodgkin's patient. She's almost exactly two years behind me, as far as treatments and all are concerned. She's the first person I've met who has what I had. It was kind of neat to talk to her; I hope we talk again.

Wednesday, I saw the dermatologist. Well, I saw the derm's assistant. She did a full-body check-over, said that my skin looks good, I have a little sun damage on my shoulders (not surprising - years of red shoulders will do that), watch out for changes in about 15 years to the areas where I had radiation, keep using sunscreen but no need to flip out about turning a little pink as long as I'm sunscreen-ed. That was good news and definitely lowered the sun paranoia factor by a lot.

Thursday, I had the plantar warts frozen ... but they're still there. I'll need to look up how long it should take before they disappear.

Friday I saw the cardiologist regarding my crazy high heart rate when I exercise. He said basically that I'm unusual, that HR usually only spikes in people who are sedentary. They're going to do a few tests (next week and the week after) and see what's going on. He said he's not worried and doesn't expect to find anything worrisome and that I should keep doing what I'm doing. He also said that the effects of radiation wouldn't show up for another 10-15 or more years. I'm holding out for them never to show up :)

There it is! So I'm less sun-scared, I'm holding out for answers from the cardiologist, and I'm still looking for a new good doctor. Not bad.

In the mean time, I think I'm ready to register and commit to triathlon #2...

stupid side effects ... still

I am ranty about side effects!

I finished chemo a year and 8 months ago. I expected all of the physical chemo baggage to be gone by now. But I'm still having chemo boobs, and I'm pretty sure that some of my memory issues and struggles with speaking are related to chemo brain.

When I asked my oncologist about chemo boobs, he told me to ask my regular doctor. I made an appointment with a new doctor (my old one is no longer available, which is super-sad) and asked who in the practice would be best equipped to answer questions about chemotherapy side effects. After being on hold for a while, the receptionist came back and gave me an appointment but stressed that they might need to refer me.

Who are they going to refer me to? Is there a branch of medicine that deals with long term side effects of chemo? (If yes, why wasn't I pointed in their direction a long time ago???) If not (which I assume is the right answer), where are they going to send me? To an oncologist? I have one already.

It will be interesting.

I have a laundry list of questions for her. I want to ask about chemo boobs and chemo brain, and when they're going to flippin' GO AWAY. I had some weird breathing troubles at the end of my triathlon and again once when I was training at the gym; I'd like to know what might cause that to happen. My heart rate is pretty high when I exercise; I want to know if that's a problem (and if/how I can ever make that better). I have some plantar warts on my right foot and need a referral to a podiatrist who can make them go away. (They were removed once, about 4 years ago...) I want to know about vitamins and supplements and which ones she might recommend as being the most effective/safest.

I have a lot of questions :) I hope she has at least *some* answers.

The whole thing is ... frustrating. The oncologist's job, as far as I can tell, is to make sure I don't die of cancer. Great! He did that. I'm exceptionally grateful to him for that. But there are other things going on that are impeding my quality of life. Who deals with those?

The local chapter of i[2]y is having a meeting next week on Tuesday regarding fertility issues. I am planning to go, as chemo boobs would be tied into hormones and therefore fertility. Maybe it'll be good.

I'm realizing, through reading comments of people on Facebook, that my way of looking at my cancer seems to be different than many other young adult cancer survivors. There is a conversation going on about people who are depressed when they finish treatment. The structure of treatments is gone, the friends who are nurses and other patients are suddenly not there on a regular basis any more. I get that. but DUDE! You're ALIVE! Celebrate! But that's just me, apparently.

I wonder if this is what made the difference for me: I never thought of cancer or chemo or how my life was at the time as "the new normal." It was always just an aberration. A long, pain-in-the-ass-kinda-scary-sometimes-terrifying inconvenience. And so when it was over, I was joyful! It was like I'd been sitting at this damned light forever and it finally turned green.

Is my life "back to normal"? In most ways, yes. I am working, I am exercising, I am over-extending my schedule, I am not sleeping enough, I am doing all the things I was doing before this ordeal. Is my psyche the same? Nope. It changes you. It has to. I don't think you can come up against any life-threatening experience and not leave a changed person. It hasn't changed me in the clichéd way that people asked about. But if nothing else, it's always there. It's not part of my daily routine. It's not part of my regular consciousness. But it's definitely there.

Going back to the thing on Facebook. The consensus in the small sample of people is that the oncologist should be taking care of their patients' mental health needs through this process. I completely disagree. Therapists who are trained to deal with cancer patients and survivors should absolutely be made available by the oncologist (or his/her office/nurses), but I don't think it's the oncologist's job. That's not what they're trained in.

I would like to help people who need help in dealing with cancer as a diagnosis, or cancer as a part of their history, or anything in between. I'm not really sure how I best can do that. If you have suggestions, please post them.

I'll let you know what the doc says on Monday. I am also going to see a dermatologist on Wednesday. Hopefully, there will be no news on that front.

The saga continues...

Also, I just have to mention that while my hair started growing back in October '07 (before chemo ended!), and I have been getting regular hair cuts for the last year, I still occasionally get comments on having "all that hair!" Bets on when the last comment will be made? I would have lost that bet already...

sick ≠ cancer

Three passing things, all somewhat related...

First, I have some kind of upper respiratory infection thing going on. Haven't had a fever in a couple of days, but I'm coughing off and on like mad and have close to no voice. My throat hurt really badly for a few days but is feeling mostly better. In the days that I was feverish, I knew it was because of whatever viruses were ravaging my body ... but that doesn't stop the little cancer voice from reminding me: persistent, low-grade fever is a symptom of Hodgkins.

How can I get that little voice to turn off? If I had a persistent low-grade fever for no apparent reason, then perhaps I should be concerned, but sheesh — I was sick!

As a result of said sickness, I missed a dress rehearsal and a performance. When my hubby told the conductor I was missing because I was sick, his reaction was, "Sick sick?!" No... I appreciate the concern (and I enjoy the director very much), but I can be just plain ol' regular sick...

Last, things here have been really stressful recently, peaking over the weekend. Enter that little voice again: you know, the doctor said that the first tumor's growth was most likely triggered by stress, and the first two years are the time most likely to see a recurrence. You know, you're still in the first two years, and you've been having some massive stress. Wonder how your lymph nodes are doing...

If anyone knows how to either turn off or re-program that little voice, I'd appreciate the info...

chemo brain

I'm ready for this whole chemo-brain thing to go away.

I used to have a highly detailed, razor-sharp memory. On occasion, I'd transcribed conversations after they'd happened. I remembered names, faces, events, details within any of that. It was not always a perk, certainly, but it was often useful.

Chemo kicked the shit out of my cognition and memory. My ability to think, carry on a conversation, remember things is MUCH better than it was during and immediately after treatment. But it still ain't right.

There have been days at work when I'm writing a pass for a kid. I look at them and can't remember their name. Sometimes it just takes a few seconds. Sometimes they just tell me. I don't ask. If I need to, I'll find their folder or their instrument (name tag) or glance down my roster.

Earlier this week, I had an e-mail conversation with a friend about some compression shorts. I had gone out to buy a pair, but it turned out that the only size the store I went to had was XL. Paraphrasing the conversation, he said that wasn't very compressive. I said it would be if I put both legs in one leg. He pointed out that I wouldn't be very mobile. I said I'd get good at dolphin kicking. He mentioned that walking and running wouldn't work so well. I agreed and said that I hadn't thought about getting to the pool. Conversation ended.

It did not occur to me until this morning, on my way back from the gym, that what the hell was I talking about? I was buying shorts, not a bathing suit, and so whether or not I could swim in them was irrelevant. (In my slight defense, around this same time, I did buy a bathing suit for exercise.)

I wonder if this is what early stages of dementia are like?

I wonder when this wears off?

I was at a young cancer survivor meeting the other night (will blog about that later) and someone mentioned chemo brain and I said something about it wearing off, and someone else asked, "Does it?" Well shit. I hadn't considered that it wouldn't. I'm just still waiting. And really, that's what I'm going to continue to do. But I wouldn't mind if it hurried up...

lingering side effects - possibly TMI

About three quarters through my run with chemo, my boobs started swelling and shrinking with my cycle. There were other side effects that mimicked pregnancy (according to my pregnant-at-the-time friend), so I just added this to the list of things that will probably happen to me if/when I get pregnant.

It's still happening.

I had assumed that when the boobs stopped this silly game, I would know that the lingering effects of my favorite poisons were gone and I could declare another small victory :)

But it's still happening.

I asked the oncologist about it some time ago, and he said to ask my OB. My OB was also my PCP and she rocked. And then she moved to MedCo, and I can't see her any more. I haven't found a new PCP or a new OB, so the question remains unasked.

They told me that side effects could last up to 18 months. I am beginning to wonder, though, if this is actually ever going to go away... And if it's a problem, other than bra-logistically.

small odd gratitude

We had some clementines that weren't so tasty any more. I thought I'd juice them and see if the juice was any good, in an effort not to waste them.

While slicing them, it (randomly) occurred to me that I was able to slice them, juice them, and I could have drunk the juice without thinking twice about it. I was grateful not to have fresh fruits on the "do not consume" list any more. It doesn't matter that there's dirt and germs on the peels. My body takes care of them :)

Not sure why that popped into my head this evening, but it did. One more little thing to be grateful for in this strangely the-same-as-before-but-not life after cancer.

a long, fabulous moment of forgetting

On Saturday, I ran a 5K. I am thrilled to report that I beat my previous time by over 5 minutes :)

The race, of course, was outside. I put on my suncreen and didn't think about it again.

That's the first time I was able to "not think about it again" in roughly a year and a half. It felt good (once I realized I had done it) :)

I suspect that I haven't needed to be so concerned about it for a while - take precautions (sunsreen, long sleeves, umbrella when the sun is intense) and let it go. It was nice to let it go.


There have been a barrage of ads for a new(-ish?) cancer center in the area. They claim to have a wide array of services, including homeopathic docs. I wonder if they take patients who have completed treatment just to talk about lingering side effects and nutrition and things like that. I'm going to check into it.

On that topic, they have a billboard that reads, "Anyone who says winning isn't everything has never fought cancer" or something significantly close to that. My initial reaction was "fuck yeah!" but then I got to thinking about it ...

Having cancer has certainly changed my life (though not in the ways that most people inquired about - my partying hasn't decreased at all ;) ). And while of course I would have needed to survive in order for that to happen long-term, I don't think just getting through it would be considered a "win." Or maybe it'd be like a win because the other team forfeited. It seems to me that for cancer survival to be a win, there needs to come from it more than just surviving ... but that's just me.

it's almost that time...

We are rapidly approaching the one-year anniversary of my entrance to the hospital (May 16). It actually is kind of making me nervous, like there's something inherent about May that is going to cause me to wake up one morning and not be able to breathe again.

I just sent an e-mail a few minutes ago, and in it, I was bitching a bit about having our district festival on Wednesday, and how that means I'm in teacher mode until 9:00 Wednesday night, after which, we get to clean up. I'm conducting the beginning band, so it's not like the afternoon when kids are rehearsing is putz time. (Actually, though, I'm looking forward to conducting a band that has more than 20 kids in it.)

Anyway, in the e-mail, I said that last year, the day of the district festival was the first day I was in the hospital, so I'm glad this year to be going to the festival instead. But even as I typed it, "hopefully" was somewhere in my head. As if to say, I won't believe that I will actually be there until I'm there.

I'm planning our spring concert and how to wind down the year with collecting instruments and such. I wasn't there for any of this last year. And there's a funky little something inside that makes me wonder if I'll be there for it this year.

Now, in real life, I have very little reason to believe that I wouldn't be there for it. (The only anything is the swollen lymph node.) I'm planning for it, and it all should be fine.

I was at the gym on Friday and today and did some decent cardio and felt fine. Breathing was fine, knees were fine, chest was fine - everything was fine. I think that once I get past some of these events that I missed last year, I will be fine. But for now, it's a funky kind of background paranoid, like when you see something out of the corner of your eye, but as soon as you turn to look at it, it disappears.

Only time will tell.

sunscreen

I was able to use my regular SPF45 sunscreen yesterday afternoon and this morning with no discomfort. One more thing to check off the list :)

quick update on the doc's appointment

Well, I forgot my paper with my questions, so I didn't remember to ask them all.

I wear sunscreen on all uncovered parts whenever I leave the house. Today, I am wearing short sleeves, so I put sunscreen on my arms before leaving work. By the time I got to the doc's, my right arm was sunburned. That kinda answered the sun question. I asked anyway, and he said that it would be best if I wore long sleeves. "Indefinitely?" "For a while." I'm not sure how long that is, and I didn't inquire. So I'm going now to look for one or two long-sleeved shirts (one definitely in white) that I can wear over my short sleeves when I'm outside.

I've been having the weird skin sensitivity lately, like I had during chemo. It's not nearly as bad, but it is noticeable. I asked about that, and he said that he wasn't concerned about it. (The doc's answers aren't great for those of us who like to know "why" -- he's just answering from a "should I be concerned" perspective.)

He listened to my lungs without my request, and he said nothing about them, so I assume they are fine. If I continue to have the same problem with exercising, I'll call.

The swollen node is about the same - everyone agrees - so no action necessary at this time. I should call right away if I notice a change for the worse (no kidding!!).

And I'll have another PET scan 3 months from the previous, so that will be mid-to-late May, the year-mark of when this all started. The end of the school year approaching is raising a bit of anxiety in me. Funny, since the point in the school year had nothing to do with everything that happened. Ahhh, associations.

So that's where it's at right now.

every now and then, it taps me on the shoulder...

It’s all kind of surreal.

It’s different than denial.

I mean, I know I had cancer.

I remember a lot of it more clearly than I would like to.

Yet it still doesn’t feel real, somehow.

I had an appointment at the radiologist’s this morning, to check on my swollen node. It’s still swollen, but it’s about the same as its been all along. (It was kind of annoying, actually. From the time I got out of my car to the time I got back in was 15 minutes. I could have just called and said, “Yep, I’ve been checking it every day, and it’s still the same.”)

I noticed on my way in and out that the paintings we did at the Day of Art are framed and hanging in the hallway. I could see mine. Mine was a tribute to all of the people who carried me through the journey: medical staff, husband, friends, family. It is not a fabulous painting, but it says what I wanted it to say.

Seeing it made me want to cry. Writing about it makes me want to cry. I can’t entirely pinpoint why, either.

I went running Saturday late afternoon. It was easily the hottest it’s been for an outdoor run for me since before diagnosis, and the sun, while low, was still up. I did my usual 2-mile (my house up to Baseline and back), which I’ve been able to run without walking for quite some time now.

I couldn’t run it.

I ran all the way to Baseline and did a combination walk/run the whole way back. The whole second mile. I was completely out of breath and tired. (Legs felt OK.)

This funky incident (which was most likely a result of me not being used to the weather), had me in tears by the time I cooled down. I was out of breath, which is a problem I haven’t had, which *must* mean there’s something wrong, which *must* mean that the long-dead cancer is causing problems.

Shit.

I wonder if this paranoia ever goes away. I don’t like it.

Well, in any case, I have an appointment with the oncologist this afternoon. Questions I have:

- when do the side effects of the chemo wear off once and for good?
- I love being outside in the sun. As long as I wear sunscreen vigilantly, is the sun something I need to avoid? Are clothes sufficient barriers, or do I need more sunscreen than I thought?
- is the restriction on hot tubs, hot showers, massages, etc. permanent, or was that just during treatment?
- the funky blue veins in my chest are still visible, and the area inside my left collar bone is still slightly swollen. Shouldn’t that have gone away by now?
- please listen to my lungs – I had some issues when I was running over the weekend.

*sigh*

Yeah, if you have the opportunity to miss sharing this adventure, that would be a good thing.

side effects

Well, I was told that the two most likely short-term side effects from the radiation would be fatigue and a sore throat. I haven't had any fatigue yet (yaye!), but about a week ago, swallowing food started to become uncomfortable, kind of like how it feels when you swallow something too big and it's kind of stuck. But I learned quickly that if I took small bites, chewed a lot, and stayed relaxed, most of the time, it wasn't too bad.

I saw the radiologist on Monday after my treatment. He asked how swallowing was. I told him it was a little uncomfortable but not too bad. He said it would get worse as treatment progressed, which makes sense. Here's the kicker:

It's getting better. In the last few days, I have had almost no discomfort in swallowing at all :) I suppose it is something that I could be adapting to, but I don't see that as a likely answer. Of course, the radiation not having the same effect is not a likely answer, either, so I don't know. Regardless of why, I've enjoyed feeling normal :)

And aside from being sleepy from getting up an hour and a half earlier than I'm used to every day, fatigue hasn't been an issue. I've been able to do all the things I normally do, except that my evenings are cut short so I can try to go to sleep early so as not to be tired.

There it is :) I don't suspect one more treatment is going to produce a landslide of side effects, so I think I'm pretty much in the clear :) :)

With the way things have gone in the past, I kind of am nervous about what's going on that I can't feel, but I'm not going to worry about it. There's not anything I can do about it anyway — just stay in touch with what things feel like and report them as needed.

Monday is my last radiation :) :)

I got my appointment moved to 7 a.m. (from 5:50), so I can sleep in (haha). Be on the lookout for one happy post on Monday...

misc goings-on

I've been having some chest pain for a while now, similar to that which was previously associated with the shots I got after chemo to keep my white blood cell counts up.

It has persisted though the shots have not. Last time I saw the doc, he said to call if it got worse. Over the weekend, it got worse. It was almost constant (as opposed to very intermittent) and was more intense. Now, don't get me wrong — it has never been excessively painful, even at its increased intensity (I've never taken even an Advil for it, much less anything stronger) — but it's not supposed to be there at all. If I knew it was nothing serious and would go away eventually, I wouldn't think about it at all. But I don't know that yet.

So I went in to see him yesterday. He asked a bunch of questions (same ones he's asked before) and basically ruled out a cardiac problem. It doesn't bother me any more or less when I exercise, and I'm not short of breath or anything like that. I'm set up for a bunch of tests to guess-and-check, starting with a bone scan tomorrow. I don't know what they entail or how long they are, but I'll know soon...

Of course, it hasn't bothered me at all for the last three days. If it stays away, I'm going to see about maybe cancelling the second and third tests — they're not until the 21st. I see the doc again next week on Wednesday, so I'll perhaps have more info then.

In other health news, all bodily systems are up and running as they should be (or at least close to normal) as of about a week and a half ago. Body is healing from the chemo and isn't failing yet from radiation.

Five radiation treatments done, twelve to go.

They're changing my treatments on Tuesday. My time changes Monday and Tuesday (to accommodate my work schedule). I've been going at 8 a.m. Monday I go at 6:20 (!!). Tuesday onward I go at 5:50. Yes, a.m. Pretty heinous. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to leave there (well before 6:15) and go to work, go home and take a nap, or go to the gym. They all have perks and drawbacks that I am too lazy to type right now.

Oh, and there's a possible kink in the hair project: I am going to a wedding in the end of March. Depending on what it looks like by then, I may be wanting a trim. We'll see.

Earlier this week, I was able to jog two miles without walking. This is the first time since May that I've been able to do that. I'm looking forward to being back up to 5K stamina and am hoping/planning to run a 5K in March or April. I think that's a reasonable goal...