Saturday, December 29, 2007

Pills vs. Pokes

If mom knows, she didn't give any indication of it over the holidays. And I appreciate that. There's something to be said for bourgeois suppression of emotions.

Got a call from the clinic the day after Xmas to let us know our donor is in tip top shape and began her protocol on the 27th. I was relieved to hear that we'd only be ruining her New Year's Eve and not her entire holiday. I really was.

Me, I'm just poking along. Literally. A daily morning injection of lupron now supplemented with estrace in pill form. You know the routine. First 2 mg, then 4, now 6. And after several "oh sh*t! the pills!" moments in the first few days, I think I am finally on a pill taking schedule that I can remember and follow.

Why is it that, even though the pills are just as vital to this whole process, I see them as less important or rather, easier to forget than any injection? My body's alarm clock is fine tuned to jump out of bed in time for my morning shot yet twice this week the afternoon has whiled away before I remember to take my lunchtime dose of estrace? I could blame the holidays and the disruption in my routine. Or, I could admit that I am just like scores of cancer patients who are not as timely with their meds as they should be.

I was not surprised by an article entitled, "Use as Directed" in the Fall issue of my Cure magazine.
Therapy in a pill has recently freed many people with cancer from an I.V. pole, giving them the ease of treatment already available to those with heart disease, diabetes, asthma, and other conditions. But with convenience comes a phenomenon long known in other fields: Treatment that is easy is also easy to forget.
Too true! The article states that costs and side effects are among the top reasons that patients neglect or choose not to take their oral meds but also
sometimes, when viewed through the prism of surgery, radiation, and hours in a recliner watching medicine drip into your veins, a little tablet can seem inconsequential.
I am fully aware that taking/not taking those little white pills is not inconsequential. And I will have ultrasonic proof of that come January 4th. But I do understand the dilemma. I even remember seeing my switch to radiation therapy from chemo as a sort of "down grade" when it happened so long ago. (How ironic, then, that radiation has caused so much more permanent and irreversible damage than chemo ever did). In a way, I am almost relieved that I didn't have the option of chemotherapy in pill form when I was in treatment. It would have been that much more for me to screw up.

So, to recap:
me and our donor are doing just fine.
She with her meds; me with mine.
I promise not to forget.
And in two weeks we'll be set
To start jamming that PIO in my behind.

I hadn't meant for that limerick to happen. It just did. Sorry.

Thursday, December 20, 2007


My mom is on Facebook.

I know because she sent me a "confirm how you know (me)" email.

And I did. And then I went through my own facebook page with a fine tooth comb to see if there was anything incriminating on there. By incriminating I don't mean photos of me drunk and stupid; I mean IVF-maybe baby-fertility plans incriminating....

There was one hyperlink that, if she chose to click it, would have taken her to another online project that I am working on (not, thank goddess), which would have spilled the beans.

How savvy is mom with hyperlinks?

We'll see, won't we?

Next question: how good is she with google?

Now, it's not terrible if she puts two and two together and figures out that we are trying to have a baby. It's not terrible at all. But we chose NOT to tell mom or dad because if you recall: a.) they were in the process of selling their house, moving and relocating to a new state, all with more than a little bit of trepidation and we didn't want to muddy the waters; b.) I don't tell my parents much; c.) I don't tell my parents much because they worry and fret and bug the shit out of me until they are assured everything is ok.

I know that we have a long road ahead of us that will be tough enough without daily calls and goddess-forbid, visits to check up on me. I would have rather had a great "guess what??" moment in the spring. But so it goes.


Friday, December 14, 2007

Old Habits Dye Hard

I woke up this morning from a bad dream to a splitting headache, a huge zit forming on my right cheek and later, a dizzy spell that made me want to puke. Thank you, lupron.

Needless to say, I was feeling neither attractive nor functional. Useless. To myself and others. What could I do to get myself out of this nasty funk? I knew. Oh, I knew.

I broke open the bottle.

Oh no she di'nt.

Oh yes, she did.

And now my hair is a lovely dark chestnut brown for the holidays. Ms. Clairol, you saved the day, like you always do.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Shut 'Em Down

Even though my husband attended the same orientations, sat in the same little square room as me several month ago, he still gets confused over which injectable is for what purpose, what magic elixer will produce which results.

When he saw me prep for my lupron injection this morning he asked, "so, now, are you starting up or shutting down?"

"Um, shutting down, I suppose."

And then he proceeded to perform his version of Public Enemy's Shut 'Em Down. How sweet. I'm guessing I'll get my share of the Rolling Stones next week when I begin adding estrace to my daily routine. Start me up, baby. Don't you ever stop.

So it's day 6 of lupron and aside from feeling pretty lethargic and short tempered, which, let's face it, could be me on any day, I'm doing just fine.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007


My fortune cookie from lunch this afternoon:
It could be better,
but it's good enough.
Haven't decided how to interpret that just yet. Any readers want to offer theirs?

First Lupron shot of the fresh cycle - tomorrow morning at 8 am.
Last glass of wine with dinner - tonight. Oh and it's a good one.