And treatment begins...

As per usual started this days a week ago..... 

It's been a week (last week lol); one that I could not have done without the love and support of family, friends and colleagues. Less narrative this time, more topic organization.

(1) Having an amazing team of doctors, the majority of whom are wicked smart women is something that I didn't realize I was missing in my life. My gynecological surgeon, her attending and the anesthesiologist are all women. A very successful salpingo oophorectomy (i.e. bye bye ovaries and tubes) brought to you by that team, and the nurses and medical assistants in pre-op and post-op. My oncologist at Dana Farber, who I will get to continue to work with in some capacity, is also a woman, again wicked smart.  Seriously, it's amazing. And nothing against male docs, I've had great ones and terrible female docs, but being in a culture where everyone sees you is amazing.

(2)  I started actual treatment for these rogue cells (why is cancer still hard to say?!?) Monday morning. The point of removing the ovaries was to drop kick me into menopause so I could start the drugs to knock these bastards back. Well that's done, with currently limited side effects, just some minor hot flashes. Good perspective from the gyn oncologist- every woman who makes it to a certain age goes through menopause, you're not alone. That definitely puts it in the perfect light. Menopausal friends and family, you've a new permanent sister (been flirting with it on and off since chemo). Anyways, no side effects yet from the Ibrance or letrozole. It's early though, and likely my white blood cell count will go down. We'll check that in a couple weeks, and get started on Xgeva, a shot to increase bone strength. I asked how long until the meds would begin to decrease cancer related symptoms, thinking particularly of the pleural effusion/shortness of breath and back issues, and the doc thinks six to eight weeks. In the meantime, another thoracentesis likely. I can do most things, including taking Hermes for walks (those are getting longer) and work...grateful for that!

(3) Fuck cancer. It ain't pink, and it ain't pretty. This isn't a new statement from me (see previous posts), but I'm feeling it even more now.  The good news is treatment should work no matter where this bastard is in my body, and all samples have shown strong estrogen receptor positivity, so knocking the estrogen production out in combo with the CDK4/6 inhibitor should work. The not as good news is the damn cancer cells are in my peritoneal lining and my ovaries (and my pleural space and my bones, but we already knew that). Thanks cells, thanks a lot. The good news is, well, the ovaries are gone now. And the treatment should work, at least for awhile (months? a couple years? a decade?, on average the middle number, but I'm shooting for above average here). Lastly, thanks to my sister I have a morse code bracelet with the above sentiment (fuck cancer). Perfect.

(4) So how am I doing with this? Ok, ups and downs. My oncologist here is luckily used to my rambling and constant joking about everything. He's very low key, but very knowledgeable. So that's helpful. And a good doctor and human. Things are evening out a little...the new normal. But I'm also thinking of things I absolutely want to do. Considering a trip to see the tropical rainforest, and a beach, and warmth in January.

Looking forward to a socially distanced Thanksgiving. The smallest turkey I could find was over 20 lbs, so if you want leftovers and are near Mason, let me know! We can do a distanced drop.

Last thought: wear a mask. Stay apart. Let's knock covid back.