The new URL for the website will be www.meeshopolis.blogspot.com. After 10 years (teamhyra@msn.com registered 9/14/2000) I will no longer be using TeamHyra as an identifier for my online URLs or emails. There is no Meesh in TeamHyra. Look for an upcoming change in my email, facebook and other accounts that were attached to the "TeamHyra" name.
More fascinating info on team trades, free agents, the injured reserve, the second string, the locker room and the Hyrettes to follow.
Meesh
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Saturday, September 19, 2009
RE-MISSION IMPOSSIBLE? OR POSSIBLE
All had been quiet on the blog front because I have just been soldiering on through my 6 cycles of Avastin and Abraxane. My final treatment for this series, which began in April, is September 25th. I was prepared to have a PET scan (the 1st one since February when I had 13 new active cancer spots on my skeleton) after the 25th and then consult with Dr. K. He was not satisfied with this situation because if the outcome was that I was to remain on the Avastin and Abraxane we would get off of our established schedule. Cancer buggers can do a lot while the proverbial "mice" of chemotherapy are away. So, I had a PET scan this last Wednesday and consulted with Dr. K. yesterday on Friday.
I had prepared myself for the worst. These scans really do a number on me. I get a bad case of "scanxiety" and continually imagine that I am going to hear, "It didn't work at all and we are going to have to move onto Door #3 and you are going to have to have a harsher drug and it is going to suck more than you can imagine and blah, blah, blah." I suppose that this is a coping mechanism, of sorts, because when you are a mets girl to even allow yourself to think that something is going to go right is just not something that we do. We prepare for the worst and hope for something on the scale just above the worst and this is progress. It really is absurd because we all want to live in a place of hopefulness, a place where our condition will somehow change from a death sentence to life without parole.
Well I guess the Governor of Cancer called up on the bat-phone and in a way commuted my sentence for the time being. Over the past 6 months I have heard Dr. K use the "R" word (remission) twice. I NEVER thought that remission was a possibility for me. I thought that even if the outcome of any treatment was good that there would still be metastatic disease on my skeleton and even thought it wasn't active it would always be there. The internal evidence of my scarlet letter "C."
On Friday, I hadn't looked at my results and so Dr. K was the first one to read them to me. I literally felt like I was in the middle of a miracle moment as he shared my results with me. I had to make sure that he was reading MY results not someone elses. The PET scan sealed the deal. Because my CA 27-29 has gone from 150 to 70, my pain is all but disappeared with the exception of my low back which has all those collapsed vertebraes and fractures, I have been feeling better than ever since I have been diagnosed and according to some (not me) I look better than I have looked (even without any hair) since my diagnosis in July 2007 we were hopeful that the PET would reveal progress. I didn't imagine it would reveal a small miracle.
Originally I had 6 tumors in my left breast and axilla. Many of them were big like baseball and golf ball size. Two had disappeared awhile ago, two were gone from this scan. I mean totally gone. The last two (baseball and golf ball) are down to 1cm by 1cm, they are petering out. The two last buggers are there but they are not doing well. They aren't thriving, they are dying. Good riddance. As far as my skeletal mets, which were EVERYWHERE in my body. THEY ARE GONE!!!!! There is no evidence of any disease with the exception of a small spot on my right 4th rib and possibly a spot on my pelvis, but that is probably a post-radiation spot not a cancer spot.
To me this is just unbelievable. This chemotherapy/biotherapy/bone builder regime has worked and it has worked well. All the fatigue from the therapies and the pain from the marrow builders and the Thursday-Friday-Saturday trips to the cancer institute have been worth it and worth it in a way that is amazing.
I'll give you a little quote from the report:
"There is remarkable interval decreased or complete resolution of abnormal activity see in the entire skeleton now." and "There is almost complete metabolic response of the osseous skeletal lesions."
The plan is this. I will have 6 more treatments of the Abraxane and Avastin which will run me up to December 18th. I will be sending out an email blast for chemo buddies and Neulasta shot ride friends on Saturday. Dr. K believes that with the 6 more treatments that I could go into complete remission. Now, me being the metastatic pessimist I am not going to hold my breath BUT I will be visualizing the death of the final 3-4 spots that are left.
Thank you all for the rides, sitting with me, playing with the girls, the meals, the support, sitting with me through the interminable chemo sessions. Thank you for the well-wishes, the prayers, the cards and the emails. Thank you for being a part of getting us this far. We couldn't have done it without your help.
Most of all I have to thank my family without you three I wouldn't be able to make it through the treatments, and the tests and the shots. Matt, Anya and Mila this victory is yours. You have sacrificed so much to get me here. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I had prepared myself for the worst. These scans really do a number on me. I get a bad case of "scanxiety" and continually imagine that I am going to hear, "It didn't work at all and we are going to have to move onto Door #3 and you are going to have to have a harsher drug and it is going to suck more than you can imagine and blah, blah, blah." I suppose that this is a coping mechanism, of sorts, because when you are a mets girl to even allow yourself to think that something is going to go right is just not something that we do. We prepare for the worst and hope for something on the scale just above the worst and this is progress. It really is absurd because we all want to live in a place of hopefulness, a place where our condition will somehow change from a death sentence to life without parole.
Well I guess the Governor of Cancer called up on the bat-phone and in a way commuted my sentence for the time being. Over the past 6 months I have heard Dr. K use the "R" word (remission) twice. I NEVER thought that remission was a possibility for me. I thought that even if the outcome of any treatment was good that there would still be metastatic disease on my skeleton and even thought it wasn't active it would always be there. The internal evidence of my scarlet letter "C."
On Friday, I hadn't looked at my results and so Dr. K was the first one to read them to me. I literally felt like I was in the middle of a miracle moment as he shared my results with me. I had to make sure that he was reading MY results not someone elses. The PET scan sealed the deal. Because my CA 27-29 has gone from 150 to 70, my pain is all but disappeared with the exception of my low back which has all those collapsed vertebraes and fractures, I have been feeling better than ever since I have been diagnosed and according to some (not me) I look better than I have looked (even without any hair) since my diagnosis in July 2007 we were hopeful that the PET would reveal progress. I didn't imagine it would reveal a small miracle.
Originally I had 6 tumors in my left breast and axilla. Many of them were big like baseball and golf ball size. Two had disappeared awhile ago, two were gone from this scan. I mean totally gone. The last two (baseball and golf ball) are down to 1cm by 1cm, they are petering out. The two last buggers are there but they are not doing well. They aren't thriving, they are dying. Good riddance. As far as my skeletal mets, which were EVERYWHERE in my body. THEY ARE GONE!!!!! There is no evidence of any disease with the exception of a small spot on my right 4th rib and possibly a spot on my pelvis, but that is probably a post-radiation spot not a cancer spot.
To me this is just unbelievable. This chemotherapy/biotherapy/bone builder regime has worked and it has worked well. All the fatigue from the therapies and the pain from the marrow builders and the Thursday-Friday-Saturday trips to the cancer institute have been worth it and worth it in a way that is amazing.
I'll give you a little quote from the report:
"There is remarkable interval decreased or complete resolution of abnormal activity see in the entire skeleton now." and "There is almost complete metabolic response of the osseous skeletal lesions."
The plan is this. I will have 6 more treatments of the Abraxane and Avastin which will run me up to December 18th. I will be sending out an email blast for chemo buddies and Neulasta shot ride friends on Saturday. Dr. K believes that with the 6 more treatments that I could go into complete remission. Now, me being the metastatic pessimist I am not going to hold my breath BUT I will be visualizing the death of the final 3-4 spots that are left.
Thank you all for the rides, sitting with me, playing with the girls, the meals, the support, sitting with me through the interminable chemo sessions. Thank you for the well-wishes, the prayers, the cards and the emails. Thank you for being a part of getting us this far. We couldn't have done it without your help.
Most of all I have to thank my family without you three I wouldn't be able to make it through the treatments, and the tests and the shots. Matt, Anya and Mila this victory is yours. You have sacrificed so much to get me here. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
From A to Z it seems to be working for me.
I haven't written anything in such a long time because I have been in a holding pattern to see if this new chemotherapy regimen was going to work. Well, according to the fabulous Dr. K it is working. The tumors in my left breast which were baseball and golf ball size respectively are now unpalpable except for a little almond sized bit he can still feel.
On the whole my pain level is down so far I sometimes forget how bad it was a year ago. My Ca 27-29 in down to 70 which is the lowest it has been in over a year and so I would have to say that I am down with the Abraxane, Avastin and Zometa combo. Dr.K says that until we get a scan that we really have to look toward symptoms or lack therein to tell how we are doing. That coupled with the lowering tumor count means good news.
The weird thing is that even with good news there is still this nagging feeling at the back of my head that comes to me every day when I wake (or every night when I can't sleep) that the cancer is still there and working hard on how to mutate to work against the Abraxane and Avastin. Maybe it will be awhile until this drug becomes obsolete, maybe not. We can only hope it is a long stop here at door #2.
I have to send a real shout out to my friends. It seems as if my chemo buddies and my shot drivers and my other friends have been really coming out in droves to stay in touch during this very busy Summer. It means a lot to me because as I recover from the chemo for those 72 hours it is pretty isolated and lonely up here in the "big bed." Thanks for the calls, cards and notes, the texts and emails and visit. You are all keeping me going, you truly are.
Well, on another note my oldest daughter Dizzy leaves for her first overnight camp on Tuesday. It is a horse camp at the Flying Horseshoe Ranch. My brother and I were recalling how we both went to the same camp for a few years when we were her age. What a legacy. She is so excited as she will be going with her cousin. What could be more fun.
I promise to try to write more but it has been a busy Summer here too. Sometimes the blogging just isn't what you want to be doing when it is 103 degrees outside.
Sending you all much love and thanks for your support.
On the whole my pain level is down so far I sometimes forget how bad it was a year ago. My Ca 27-29 in down to 70 which is the lowest it has been in over a year and so I would have to say that I am down with the Abraxane, Avastin and Zometa combo. Dr.K says that until we get a scan that we really have to look toward symptoms or lack therein to tell how we are doing. That coupled with the lowering tumor count means good news.
The weird thing is that even with good news there is still this nagging feeling at the back of my head that comes to me every day when I wake (or every night when I can't sleep) that the cancer is still there and working hard on how to mutate to work against the Abraxane and Avastin. Maybe it will be awhile until this drug becomes obsolete, maybe not. We can only hope it is a long stop here at door #2.
I have to send a real shout out to my friends. It seems as if my chemo buddies and my shot drivers and my other friends have been really coming out in droves to stay in touch during this very busy Summer. It means a lot to me because as I recover from the chemo for those 72 hours it is pretty isolated and lonely up here in the "big bed." Thanks for the calls, cards and notes, the texts and emails and visit. You are all keeping me going, you truly are.
Well, on another note my oldest daughter Dizzy leaves for her first overnight camp on Tuesday. It is a horse camp at the Flying Horseshoe Ranch. My brother and I were recalling how we both went to the same camp for a few years when we were her age. What a legacy. She is so excited as she will be going with her cousin. What could be more fun.
I promise to try to write more but it has been a busy Summer here too. Sometimes the blogging just isn't what you want to be doing when it is 103 degrees outside.
Sending you all much love and thanks for your support.
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