Tag Archives: Tamoxifen

Some Mondays Don’t Go as Planned – A Loving Fight

“It Ain’t Over til It’s Over” – Yogi Berra

Gifts from our UCSF Decision Services group
Gifts from our UCSF Decision Services group

As I start this entry we are waiting for the nurses as my wife waits on what we hope will be her final surgery, almost a year to the date of her original breast cancer surgery.

This summer has been a rough one with my father-in-law in the hospital on the opposite coast for 6 weeks fighting a staph infection that laid him up with severe back pains and a high fever which made him hallucinate.  Trying to entertain kids on their annul summer visit while juggling a couple hours in the hospital each day was not a fun chore for my wife.  On top of that her longtime neighbor and family friend died of lung cancer while we were visiting.  My wife loves going home to visit friends and family, but this time despite the pending birth of our new nephew, I think she was happy to get back home.  She hadn’t even gotten the chance to mention that she was about to undergo her 4th surgery in a year.

Four surgeries in a year is not a badge of honor and at the same time it is not even close to the amount of surgeries many people have gone through with breast cancer, but looking back on it I still wouldn’t wish it on anyone.  A total of 22 hours in surgeries so far and the 4th only expected to be 90 minutes and I can only imagine the toll all the anaesthesia takes on the brain.  Maybe its old age but I can already sense some memory issues with my wife.  She’s been through a lot and I have all the respect for her approach to this last one.

This morning our kids were cranky about having to get up early and were giving my wife a hard time.  It really didn’t make me feel good to have to pull each of them aside and remind them how lucky we are.  For two young kids who have had nothing but cancer and hospital visits all around them for the last two years, they instantly knew this was not the time to be acting up and realized how fortunate to have what they have.

(Move ahead 15 hours)

Well my wife had a bit of a temperature today and they didn’t want to operate on her for fear she might be getting sick and there could be a resulting infection.  They knew my wife and I would be disappointed when they broke the news.  We had waited 4 months for this date, but now have to wait more.  After such a hard morning  getting there it was a bit disheartening.  I could see my wife was bothered.  I was bothered too.  A little for me and a lot for her.  Tonight I just felt I had to apologize as I think she could tell I was not happy with the delay as well.  We just want to get all of this overwith.  One last surgery we hope.  Now the wait again.  A wait for another surgery date.

We can’t be angry though.  My wife and I tried to console each other and subtly reminded each other of how lucky we are to be where we are today.  It hasn’t been easy and this wasn’t going to end easy either.  We’d been patient this far and couldn’t take this personally.  It is so easy to lose your cool when you can taste that chance of moving to the next step.   What’s a few more months…heck we still have to wait a few more years to be considered cancer (and Tamoxifen) free.  The cancer clinic itself has been great.  Just a couple weeks ago during her pre-op appointment they gave her a framed article from the Wall St. Journal that she had helped with (she took photos with the physicians) as well as a huge bouquet of flowers.  They really care for her well-being and would rather err on the side of conservatism.  Getting to know people on a first name basis makes things so much easier on the patient.  I remember seeing them having to look at the charts to remember my wife’s diagnosis and name.  Unfortunately they know it real well now, but that sterile feeling of being “just another breast cancer statistic” is gone.  Being able to ask your sugreon about their kids and how they are liking their new school just helps to ease the tension.

On a side note, our son’s classmate’s father who was given only a few weeks at the beginning of the summer is still holding on.  He is weaker now, but he really wants to see his kids start the school year.  It will help them and I think he will make it to that goal.  It is really sad, but in a small way having their sons back in school with such a supporting community will make the eventual loss not as lonely.  Just last year this happened with another schoolmate when they lost their mother after her six year battle and the school rallied to make meals all year long.  I had a chance to see the father at the pool this summer and he said it had been a long year but it taught him about patience and forgiveness with his two young boys. They had lived with this cancer with their mother for 6 years and he said the highs and lows were rough.  This year was very numbing without her. Knowing that my wife was in a similar situation, he just put his hand on my back and let me know I could talk whenever I needed.

Yep.  Patience.  Practice before and after.  Take one step at a time. There is no rush when it comes to cancer because it is a long road.

Still Thankful – Life is a Highway

“If I could, I wish I had the cancer, not my son” – mother of a cancer victim at the local pediatric cancer ward

This past weekend was a nice chance to sit back and be thankful for all that we have even though things are not perfect.  It has been a long four months but we are entering the home stretch.  We do have some issues and unfortunately I am frustrated that i can’t help my wife with some of her final decisions related to a clinical trial with bisphosphonates that could become a problem should my wife need oral surgery.

Other than that, life isn’t bad right now.  My wife has been able to get herself off of all her drugs and will be starting her Tamoxifen treatments tomorrow.  Her OS treatments start Thursday.  I will be having to watch her moods as these two new drugs entering her system might have an effect on her moods.  She is off of Ibuprophen and the Adavin.  Next Friday is her swap surgery and we will begin the recovery.  Its a lot to be going through with one’s body so I hope mentally she is okay.

I did have to tell our children that their mother was going to have one more procedure as I don’t want them to be worried when there mother has to go to the hospital again.  They are smart so we can’t fool them twice.  We told our kids that it is a smaller proceudre to check on their mother and make sure she is okay.

On a side note I took our son out this weekend and he got his first birdie.  I’m sure it will be the first of many.  What impressed me more was his low key manner and smile when I congratulated him.  He is learning to take life on an even level but I sure do hope that he learns to enjoy the many simple pleasures in life that he will have.

Well tomorrow is the first day of December!  I can’t believe this year is almost over!  It has definitely been one of the more trying years in my life and I am going to be happy when it is over.

The Beginning of the End – A Loving Fight against Cancer

“I’m Feeling Totally Empowered”

Meeting an oncologist seems so daunting.  Yet we were so excited to meet her.  We knew it would be a long appointment.  We heard she was thorough and with one appointment before us we ended up waiting a good 90 minutes.  We had had many discussions this week. I think we were both nervous.  All I knew is that I didn’t want my wife to have to go through chemotherapy.  It is such a toxic solution.  On my way back from the restroom I heard the fellow tell her colleagues, “they’re a nice couple and will be very receptive to options”.  We had met her a few weekends before when we were having drainage leaks on a weekend and she patched her up.

After the wait, we filled out more forms and met the fellow, the resident, and the pre-med student who crammed in the room with us.  You’d think that meeting a fairly well-known oncologist you’d think of a big oak desk surrounded by books.  Well this wasn’t Marcus Welby.  We pused into a tiny 8 x 10 room and the wait was finally over.  She told us the Oncotype number.  An 11, which means an11 percent chance of recurrence.  Tamoxifen hormonal therapy would put that number at 7%.  Chemotherapy would not be recommended!  A smile hit our faces.

Then the information hit us like stats on a Wall St. ticker tape.  25% of all cancers are undetectable on mammograms, tamoxifen is sometimes not metabolized by women, soy is not necessarily recommended product as tests are being done to check its relation to breast cancer, ……..it hit like a dumptruck of information being thrown on my head and my hand got cramps writing everything down.  Fortunately the pre-med student was typing notes away as the oncologist spoke.  Thorough and reasonable in her presentation, the oncologist laid out the basic plan for us and then gave us alternative trials with names of drugs and tests that i could not even begin to spell. We’ll have to peruse these options before our next meeting, or we could just email her our decision.

She did turn to me and ask me at one point how I was doing and what questions I had and thanksed me for attending this session and being supportive of my wife and others.  This woman knew everything.  I told her I was concerned because my wife, some aunts and both of my daughter’s grandmothers had breast cancer.  She took notes and then told me I needed to be tested as well to see if I carried the gene that could possibly be passed to my daughter.  I gulped.  Wow.  Sure i will get tested.  When my wife goes to get tested for the Braca gene, so will I.

The only time I felt uncomfortable was when they started talking about the side effects of tamoxifen and the other therapies: Tiredness, osteocrenosis of the jaw, menapausal symptoms, loss of libido, hot flashes…sitting in a small room with 5 women, all I could do was look at the tips of my shoes.  I cracked a small joke and everyone laughed.  They were uncomfortable too.

Three hours after we entered the clinic, we walked out hand in hand and I could recognize a little skip in my wife’s step.  “Are you okay?” I asked.  She smiled and said, “I finally feel like I’m in control.  I feel empowered”.  It was not the answer I thought I’d get, but I definitely could understand her thinking. 

We’ve still got a bit of a way to go, but this is a move in the right direction and quite possibly the beginning of the end of this chapter.  As we sat at home we discussed how surreal this all felt.  Cancer?  No chemotherapy? No Hair loss?  It just seems like we’ve been groomed to think hair loss, cancer and chemo go together.  Well, maybe this is just part of the new age of medicine. 

It sure works for me.