Almost Week Two

Well, the staples are out along with the JP drain. No, it didn’t hurt to have staples removed, but it pinches pretty darn hard. They put bandage type patches over staples and said they would all fall off in the shower eventually. It is a huge relief to be able to wear clothes again.

And a side effect...I lost 20 pounds. Not the best way in the world to lose, but better than not. Oddly, aside from the 4 days of starvation at the time of surgery, my appetite has been fine.

The biopsy stuff is in, I swear, they practically took everything out they could find. My daughter sent the info to the family and it sure shut them all up. No doubt scared them to death as even I didn’t like reading it. They think they got it all, but I suspect they always say that. It officially is stage 3c ovarian cancer. Not good news, but I’ll fight do what I’m supposed to do. We talked it all over with my internist and agreed with the program the oncologist has suggested.

Next I get a port. Another fun event. The first chemo will start a week after that. There will be six, 6 hours each every three weeks. The drugs are carbo platinum and taxol which are the common first ones given for ovarian cancer. We looked at the chemo room (which is actually in the doctors office) and it meets all the strictest protocols a friend suggested we look for. I will continue these updates. 

The only new thing I heard about is called a “penguin cap”.  Something filled with dry ice you wear on your head during chemo and it prevents you from losing your hair. ( I think taxol causes that) It is not only uncomfortable, but very expensive. I’m passing on that one...decided to get a really short haircut from the start and a wig. At my age, vanity is out the window. 

My daughter is treating me to a facial today. I can’t wait. She’ll be going home for a week or so and then come back for first chemo.

Day 8

My daughter thinks I should keep some sort of diary as we go along on this journey. I’m not sure because everyone is different and what I’m thinking and going through may not even apply to someone else. But, for her sake, I will try.

Today, the problems are clothes and the digestive track. I’ll no doubt look back at that sentence and laugh at how unimportant it is, but still.
I have a drain, with a bulbous end, kind of made me think of a turkey baster , only larger, which must be drained (by me...gross) quite often. And the end is safety pinned to outer clothing so it doesn’t pull on the connection into my body, which I understand extends into me 12 inches. As I said to my son, I now know how it feels to have balls as it always seems to gravitate to my crotch.
Then there are the staples...from under breasts down to crotch. During this stage, no underwear, (unless you have a closet full of thongs, which I don’t) no pants, slacks or anything can irritate the incision. Basically, I am naked under whatever I find to wear. I have a nice blue bathing suit coverup that works and yesterday my daughter went to the local boho store and got me a couple kaftans...not my style at all, but because I have to walk several times a day, I do need to be covered in something. We’ve found nothing yet I could actually wear to go out to dinner. My shifts are too narrow to accommodate the “baster”.

Problem two: everything was shifted around inside so your intestinal tract is a mess. For most, it’s constipation, but not for me. It’s been 8 days and things are still not normal, but there was a slight improvement today which I am hopeful about. My daughter has gone crazy re organic eating and she’s doing the cooking, so I’m fine with that. Last night she made a delicious Alice Waters roasted chicken with carrots and sweet potato. I’m still eating very small portions, tummy has shrunk. For once, I feel this is on the plus side.

About pain: I haven’t had any worth mentioning since the second day. The most I take is a couple Advil once in a while, which I think are a no- no, but tough.

For the past several days I have walked around the block several times a day at a decent pace. And I’m going out to a quick dinner tonight, wearing a very loose pair of slacks. Not sure how that will work out, but I guess that’s progress.

The Big C

Most of you have known me for a while. If not, let me explain: I am 81. Aside from minor arthritis things I am in perfect health and take really good care of myself. I work out 6 days a week....hard. I have always been athletic, active, involved. 

My father died at 93 of prostate cancer, which had spread to the bone because he ignored all the tests.

My mother had cervical cancer when she was 40, had surgery, nothing else,  and lived another 52 years, finally dying of heart problems.

So you can imagine my surprise when I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. But my main reason for writing this is how it happened, because who’d have ever thought of this?

I developed slight urine incontinence. Common for women in my age bracket, easy to ignore. My sister said: “I’ve been wearing little pads for years!” But I decided to make certain I didn’t have a bladder infection, as this incontinence began rather suddenly. No infection. And here’s the second clue, which I actually said to the doctor : something is not right. ( I have only read that as a warning sign once.) Couldn’t put my finger on anything. Felt fine, eating fine, working out, all seemed well.

And so it began. My internist was really on top of things, one test after another until it was discovered. Ovarian cancer.

We all know the common warning signs: (and yes, there are others)

• Abdominal bloating or swelling
• Quickly feeling full when eating
• Weight loss
• Discomfort in the pelvis area
• Changes in bowel habits, such as constipation
• A frequent need to urinate

I had none of those.

So when incontinence happens in women over 80, it is almost always considered normal. Not so. 

So this is my gift to you: have a great internist who cares about you. Watch for any little easily ignored changes or merely an odd feeling something’s not right.

Surgery was 5 days ago. I’ll not know complete biopsy results until next week. Chemo will start in a month or so. My “normal” is no longer normal. Yes, I have hope, yes I trust my surgeon, yes, I will do as asked.

My children have been bricks. This is harder on them than on me. My daughter is staying with me through most of this. Send her waves of strength. She’s going to need it. Keep all three of them in your prayers