Here is the summary that Windy provided from her phone consultation during my appointment with the medical oncologist (Dr. Graff) today.
1) The
tumor is very small, and Stage 1A. This means it is curable.
2) The
markers are sort of a dud, which means it will be more of a pain in the butt to
cure.
3) In
order to keep this little bugger from coming back, you need systemic
therapy. This means chemo. Traditional chemo. The kind you think of
when you think of chemo.
4) You
will also need surgery, but how aggressive the surgery is will depend on the
MRI and the genetic testing.
5) Your
medical team recommends chemo before surgery. This has the advantages of
starting to attack the tumor before the genetic markers are back, and giving us
a chance to see (at the time of surgery) how the chemo is kicking the cancer in
the butt. No, in the ass.
6) Now,
back to that chemo thing (wish we didn’t have to come back here, but we
do). Your doctor anticipates
a. 16
total weeks of treatment, with one infusion every 2 weeks (8 total
infusions). Each infusion will take about 6 hours.
b. Halfway
through they will switch medications (Adriamycin/Cytoxan first, then
Paclitaxel)
c. On
the day after each infusion, you will return to the clinic for a shot that will
help protect your bone marrow and prevent infections (Neulasta)
d. There
will be side effects. You will lose your hair (unless you do that freezy
thing). (Freezy thing not going to happen. ☺) You will have nausea. Your fingers may tingle. Your team
has lots of ways to help treat symptoms, and wants to know about them.
8) So,
what is next?
a. Because
one of the meds (Adriamycin) can stress your heart, you will have an echo
before you start so they have a baseline
b. Since
chemo is best in a big blood vessel, Interventional Radiology will place a
port, which is an IV with the hub under your skin on your chest.
c. The
MRI will happen soon, but will likely only impact surgical planning, and not
chemo. (Scheduled for December 1 at 8:15 p.m.)
This crappy little tumor will start
getting its ass kicked on December 14, assuming all goes as planned.
Some day your oncologist will fire you
because you are too healthy. You will cry then, too.