What's next?

I had a follow-up appointment with my oncologist on Monday. It wasn't pleasant. I really had hoped that at the end of my treatment I'd be able to put this breast cancer thing into a box and shove it into the back of my closet, forgetting it for the next ten years or so. I guess that's not gonna happen.

Apparently, I'm going to have to remain on the radar for the next 2 years, visiting my dear oncologist once every 4 months for check-ups. Every six months, I will have to have an infusion (back to the dreaded chemo room!) of Zometa to keep my bones healthy, because the medication I'm going to start, Femara, causes bone loss. Great. I'll be on Femara for the next five to ten years. Yes, you read that correctly. The upswing? Femara reduces the possibility of recurrence by 50%. Ok, sign me up. That's a number I can live with (ha ha).

The bummer: the hospital makes me sick. Literally. When I left there yesterday, I was so sick to my stomach, I couldn't eat anything for hours. I had to go home and curl up in bed to sleep it off. I just hate going in the building. The mere thought of returning to the chemo room makes me want to hurl. Every six months? Sheesh.

Another bummer: the first dose of Zometa makes you feel like total $&#% for a few days. Flu-like symptoms for up to a week, wonderful. Some say it won't happen as bad the second dose, some say it made them sick again. Who knows.

Another bummer: Femara apparently makes a lot of people feel horrible. I need to stop reading the bulletin boards in the breast cancer community room online. This will only make me crazy.

I'm not in a great place, feeling overwhelmed with it all. Surgery still scheduled for next Thursday, let's all say a collective goodbye to my fabulously productive ovaries, shall we?

Don't remember if I posted this or not, but the bilateral mastectomy is scheduled for April 21. That one will keep me freaking out for a while. Until later, I remain, Bonnie.