I'll take one lump... or none!

"I am a series of small victories and large defeats, and I am as amazed as any other that I have gotten from there to here." - Charles Bukowski

This bell hangs outside the infusion room, and when someone
completes their treatments they get to ring the bell with
the staff and nurses around. Looking forward to that day!

As of this past Friday, I'm two treatments into the new chemotherapy regimen. The other day, my friend Vicki pointed out that I now can count my remaining treatments on two hands!

The Taxol is given at a lower dosage than the previous chemo, but it is a weekly treatment. Most weeks, the infusion time will be shorter, too. The first treatment was lengthy since some people have allergies to Taxol, so we took it slowly. At the start of each infusion, I'm given pre-meds that include steroids, and now we've added Pepcid. I also get a Benadryl drip to minimize the possibility of reactions to the Taxol. Considering I never take Benadryl in real life, it's quite comical how quickly that knocks me right out...

The week of recovery was rough since the initial Taxol was paired with Carboplatin to help boost the success of the treatment, and the Carbo takes a toll on white blood cell counts and hemoglobin in red blood cells. (There's a real chance I'll become anemic because of the Carbo, and I learned I could need a blood transfusion before I finish chemo if my numbers drop too much.) Fortunately, I'll only have that combined chemo cocktail three more times. The Taxol-plus-Carbo had me down for the count on Sunday after my first treatment - I probably slept 20 hours that day - and the following days were full of nausea and acid reflux. I wasn't looking forward to the second dose, but so far the recent Taxol-only infusion seems to be treating me much better and I'm optimistic about achieving more normalcy in day-to-day life.

But, I digress from the point of this brief post. (My journalist friends are going to say I buried the lede.) As part of my preliminary treatment in this new cycle, I met with my oncologist for the first time since early November. We chatted through the side effects I experienced and ways I felt during the dose dense A+C treatments, discussed possible side effects of the new regimen, and then had an exam. As Dr. Datko felt for the lump in my left breast, I internally winced. Secretly, I'd been having a hard time locating Felicia in recent weeks, and I didn't want to hear it was actually the same size or just tiny bit smaller.

"Great news," she said. "There's no palpable lump. I can't feel anything. I never could feel the inflammation in your lymph nodes, and now there's not a lump either."

"Really?" I exclaimed. "I haven't been able to find the lump lately, but I didn't want to get my hopes up. I've been feeling up both sides of my chest to make sure I wasn't missing something." (Seriously, what else am I supposed to compare to?)

She reassured me and said that the treatments were doing exactly as they're supposed to. Of course, I have many more chemo appointments to go, plus surgery and radiation, but there's definitely peace of mind in knowing we've chosen an approach that's killing the cancer cells rapidly.

Thanks, friends, for your thoughts, good vibes, prayers, cards, and gifts. The daily process of cancer treatment is a real drag, and I find myself discouraged by the amount of time and energy it takes. But, I'm glad I can share this milestone with you all. THERE'S NO PALPABLE LUMP! We really are saying "bye Felicia" - and fast!