Off the rails

I decided to Vlog instead of writing today. Many of you heard about my trip to the ER Friday. Here is an update in true Megsie form.

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie

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Power of PTSD: Part I

From the moment I see the familiar buildings of where I had my treatments, consultations, and follow-ups, I immediately get hot, shaky with nerves and want to burst into tears. Then I park. I haven’t even opened my car door and already filled with so much emotion.

I haven’t written in spell because I’ve had many doctor appointments and needed to absorb all the information being thrown at me. I have a new oncologist, had a horrible experience with a new dermatologist and recently met with my amazing plastic surgeon in the past three weeks.

I’m now on my 4th and hopefully final oncologist. I decided to go back to Piedmont Cancer Institute and left Emory Winship Cancer Institute. I also went back to having a male oncologist rather than female, especially after the horrible experience with the female oncologist at Emory.

I refused to accept what the Emory oncologist was telling me. She said since I’m allergic to Tamoxifen, Evista, Lupron injections and Arimidex, there was nothing else she could do. I’ve felt so angry, scared and just horrified that an oncologist would say that and then ask, “So why are you here if you don’t have cancer anymore?”

It was that moment where I realized there is no real guide for post-treatment. At which moment do you stop seeing an oncologist and get handed off to your primary doctor? I had to take time to think about this and gather more inner strength to start the advocating process all over again.

Thanks to some recommendations from my cancer support groups, I decided to go back to Piedmont and meet with a new oncologist. I met him on January 22nd. I had four fellow warriors recommend him. They were right! He IS fantastic! He came in prepared. He has a sense of humor. He didn’t talk down to me. He was compassionate but also real with me. He said I ABSOLUTELY need to be monitored by an oncologist for 10-15 years. He was horrified by what that Emory oncologist told me. He said he had TWO options for me to consider, and that it wasn’t too late to start another post-treatment medication.

I immediately started crying because I felt HEARD!!!! I’m almost at my three-year mark of being NED (will be on 3/28). We talked at length about a plan of action, especially because my cancer was 100% ER/PR +. Even with the hysterectomy and oophorectomy, I still need hormone therapy. His facial expression when I said I haven’t been on any post-treatment medication since June 2017 was one of fear and amazement that I haven’t had a recurrence.

So, I am going on my third week of Aromasin. It’s been strange starting this medication while also being on an intense regime of prednisone for a dermatological issue. I just started feeling some side effects from it on Sunday. If you’ve read past posts, you will know I had horrible reactions to other medications, so I’m a wreck about trying this new one. I’m already feeling the stiff joints in my arms and fingers. I’m thirsty, but I think that’s in part of the prednisone, too. My sleep is completely off.

Yet, I still feel hopeful. Why? Well, my body has had time to heal from the many, many surgeries. I think it’s ready to handle a new treatment. Plus, since I now have Fibromyalgia, the pain from the Aromasin won’t be as challenging to handle since I’m in chronic pain every day.

I shall end here for the moment because I must get ready for work. That will have to be an entirely separate post. lol I will come back and write about what happened with the dermatologist and detail my appointment with my plastic surgeon that I had yesterday.

So stay tuned for more updates this week…I shall call it Part II.

Life On The Cancer Train continues…

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie

Morning clumps

The morning started out so well. I was up early, doing some writing and had my outfit for mass ironed. As I began my morning ritual of washing my face, taking a shower and washing my hair, I had to first brush out my hair. These tight curly coils drive me nuts!

After my lovely brushed out Afro, I get in the shower to wash and deep condition it. I had closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them, I uttered a silent scream. I looked down at my hands and the tub and saw clumps of curls had fallen out. It wasn’t just little hairs. It was CLUMPS. It was so much that I got nauseous and had a panic attack. I just knew that when I got out of the shower that I would be bald.

Damn that PTSD that doctors never believe I possess.

The last time that much hair had fallen out was on 10/25/15, when ALL of my hair fell out in the shower. I can’t ever forget that horrific and beyond traumatic moment. Even though I had shaved my head, it was still so many tiny hairs that all fell out. I had walked into the shower with hair and came out as bald as a newborn.

I panicked thinking the same thing would happen this morning. I kept my eyes closed as I wrapped a towel around my head. I took a deep breath as I removed the towel. I still have a headful of hair and still curly.

I thought the shaking and flashbacks would stop by now. Here it is evening time and the memory is still as clear and fresh as it was this morning and almost four years ago.

So why did so much fall out this morning? Where did these clumps come from?

Is this related to the medically induced menopause?

Is it related to the higher dose of Cymbalta?

Is the constant financial stress of increasing medical bills and cost of living?

Is it from all the physical pain of this nerve in my left back and buttocks?

Is it the constant physical full body pain from the Fibromyalgia?

Is it from the sleep deprivation last week as I tried to wean myself off the Ativan with zero success?

Is it the stress of knowing I need one more surgery to remove the fat necrosis in my left lumpectomy area?

Is it the grief of being infertile and single?

Is it the grief of the soon-to-be anniversary of my nana’s passing?

Is it the grief of being in a constant state of fatigue that I can’t pursue my true passions more intensely?

I guess you could say I have a lot on my plate. Then again, everything in my world is always compounded with so much all at once. I wish I could have even just a week where everything was going right. Massages used to be my thing. What do I do now that I can’t stand being touched?

All of these thoughts lead back to breast cancer. My life on the cancer train continues to move off track and so painful. I hope a smooth path is in the horizon because this constant state of stress, pain, grief, fatigue and anger is wearing me out.

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie