Tag Archives: oncologist

July 14, 2023

Posted on by under Uncategorized

This morning I had an appointment with my oncologist. Well, new one. Last time was the nurse practitioner filling in for my doctor who left the area. Today I met the official replacement. He wasn’t as personable as the one before, but he was thorough. We discussed my ongoing muscle issues, including my swollen hand. He ordered an ultrasound of my arm to make sure it wasn’t being caused by a blood clot since that’s a potential side effect of the tamoxifen I’m taking. Then we discussed switching me from tamoxifen to an aromatase inhibitor since it’s a better medicine post-menopause. But he had my hormone levels checked and ordered a bone density scan again since an AI can weaken bones. Finally, he told me I needed a proper colonoscopy. Yay.

Then I had to have my hormone injection shot, and because of my upcoming surgery, I couldn’t have the shot done in my stomach as usual. Instead, it had to go in the back of my arm. First the nurse did the lidocaine shot, followed by the hormone injection. And my arm wouldn’t stop bleeding. She kept switching out the bandaid and applying pressure, but it bleed for about five minutes. Then I started feeling lightheaded.

The needle hole explains the bruise and the bleeding.

The nurse had me hold my arm while she got help. Two more nurses arrived. One helped stop the bleeding and one gave me a wet rag for my neck. They think the needle maybe hit a nerve. When it seemed the worst had passed, they gave me a soda and left me with the original nurse who said she’d sit with me until I felt better. Then my hands started going numb and the muscles started to contract. My fingers kept curling in on themselves and the tips felt like they were pulsating. It was the weirdest thing ever, but thankfully, only lasted about another 5 minutes or so before I started to feel better. The nurse and I were both a bit startled, but relieved it didn’t last long. Crazy.

So after all that, my hormone levels weren’t at the menopause levels they should be given that the shots should be shutting down my ovaries. I need to stay on tamoxifen, and my doctor said I should do the shots every month instead of every three months. UGH. I go back in six weeks for a re-check. The ultrasound of my arm was clear—no blood clots and no fluid buildup, which I’m thankful for. It must simply be tendinitis, so I’ll keep icing it and trying not to use it so much. I’m grateful nothing more came out of my visit today than a bit of excitement.

June 27, 2022

Posted on by under cancer

I made it through my first day back to work. It was a bit bumpy, but my 3-month oncologist visit broke up the long day. At least there, all was well. My blood work is good, I’m not pregnant, and the nurse found a spot of my stomach that wasn’t hurting to give me my hormone injection.

When I go back to the cancer center now, I am reminded of how far I’ve come. That’s why I am not really upset when my doctor is behind schedule and I have to wait a bit extra, like I did today. I sat in the waiting room full of people, some in wheelchairs, a lot without hair, most looking tired, and I was really grateful I was the patient who only needed a quick run through of my blood work and the last of my shots. And I don’t have to go back again for three months. Soon that will become six. One day, I’ll just be someone who had cancer years ago.

Today I’m thankful for being another three months post cancer.

August 24, 2021

Posted on by under cancer

Today I saw my oncologist and radiation oncologist, so I have some next steps in place. The cliff note version for today’s gratitude is no more chemo. Yay! My oncologist says he hopes I never need it again.

That being said, I am considered high risk for a reoccurrence due to my initial type/size of cancer and that the pathology from my surgery showed that cancer cells were most likely left behind. That means at least six weeks of radiation that will target not just my left breast but the adjacent lymph node regions of my underarm and neck. The doctor wants to make sure they reach “deep” so as not to miss any areas of my chest wall. Fun. Once radiation is done, I’ll start hormone therapy that will last for 10 years. This piece, my oncologist emphasized, was absolutely necessary in the fight against reoccurrence. Once all my treatments are done, I’ll start follow-up visits every three months for two years and then every 6 months for three years. Good thing I like my doctor.

I’m hoping my visits tomorrow with my surgeons end with me getting my bandages and drains removed. I mean, I’m really hoping. Full disclosure: I was told I couldn’t get them wet which means no showering. I’ve been sponge bathing for the last two weeks, and I’m at the point of dreaming about a bath. Our neighbor has a fountain going 24/7 in their pool and I feel like it’s taunting me. I sometimes just stare longingly at our shower.

Besides the need for a dunk under running water, I’m also hoping bandages/drains are removed because they really are getting annoying. And painful. The radiation oncologist pointed out that the visible ridge I see is the metal section of my implants that are used for filling with saline. The binding is so tight that the skin along there has become extra sensitive so that even my clothes rubbing against it hurts.

The lower edge of the bandages are also coming loose and beginning to uncover the drain insertions. I put bandaids along the edge to try to stop it, but they aren’t holding up either. As the drains move more, they’re also starting to ache more, to say nothing about how gross they’ve become. (Sorry if you’re reading this while eating.) At the very least, I need a bandage change. Sponge baths only go so far when you’re wrapped in plastic during 90 degree weather.

At any rate, fingers crossed that tomorrow’s my lucky day. I’ll be extra, extra thankful. For today, I’m grateful to have some next steps laid out that don’t involve more chemo. In the words of my doctor today, radiation should be the easiest of all my treatment steps, so I’ve been through the worst.