Tag Archives: chemo diaries

The Chemo Diaries: Year 3 Begins!

December 2014 marked the beginning of my chemotherapy, and two full years are now complete. This already puts me well beyond the “statistical expectation” for continuing to kick around, allowing me to enjoy another holiday season with my family and, for better or worse, getting me closer to my goal of actually going back to work full-time at some point in the (hopefully not too distant) future. A third year on chemotherapy may have seemed like a remote option at one point, something that was a distant hope not to be taken for granted, but now is an accepted part of my ongoing plan, the “new normal” that has been often talked about, what I have simply become quite used to in my daily existence.

 

Me walking around Disneyland with pneumonia while celebrating the results of my most recent CT scan.

So I take a moment to sit in my gratitude for what modern medical science has afforded me. As I write this, I am one day past my infusion, feeling only moderately tired because I woke at 3:30am and was unable to get back to sleep due to the way my steroids get my brain spinning in the night. Ironically, that same effect does not seem to occur during the day, when my mental capacities tend more toward fatigue and fog as the hours progress. Chalk that incongruity up to sleep deprivation, I suppose. The good news is that the steroids will have mostly worn off by tonight and, with any luck, I’ll be back to sleeping — or at least being able to go back to sleep — mostly through the night.

And yes, I went on plenty of rides. Can’t get me enough of those perilous romps through neon storybooks.

A month or two ago, I had a discussion with my oncologist about how I felt fewer side effects from the chemo, as though it had become progressively easier for me to tolerate over the past year, and especially over recent months. It gave him pause because, he informed me, the body does not generally “learn” to process the chemotherapy drugs more efficiently and patients do not build up a tolerance to the chemicals. If that were happening, for whatever reason, it might indicate that the drugs would no longer work due to being processed out of the system too rapidly. My most recent scan, taken last month, clearly indicated that the chemotherapy is still working the same that it had been — so obviously the infusions are effective at doing what they are supposed to be doing. The observation that I am left with, then, is that most likely I am simply used to dealing with the symptoms to a greater degree. Drilling down a bit more, however, there have been a few changes made in my routine after the infusion, specifically trying to be more active even on my more difficult days. My oncologist confirmed that this approach was most likely responsible for how I am “recovering more quickly” than I had been earlier in my treatment. Continue reading The Chemo Diaries: Year 3 Begins!

The Chemo Diaries Year 2 Wrap Up Audio Edition!

This is an excerpt of my podcast, The Deep Breath. To hear the full 24 glorious minutes, including the explanation for my especially raspy voice (hint, it isn’t because of the cancer), please follow this link to my Patreon Page that hosts the podcasts. In celebration of Thanksgiving and the upcoming completion of 24 months of chemotherapy (there does seem to be a theme to the numbers here), this episode is completely free to listen to even if you are not yet one of my subscribers and patrons of this site.

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Jeffrey Poehlmann speaking at the 2016 Breathe Free Walk to End Lung Cancer

Breathe Free Walk 2016 Recap

It’s been over a week now since I spoke at the First Annual Breathe Free Walk to End Lung Cancer, which gave me a unique opportunity to connect with a few caregivers and fellow patients. I was honored to be able to offer some (non-medical) advice and reassurance, as well as to hear the heartfelt stories that I was lucky enough to have shared with me. Although I previously posted the transcript of my short speech, I’m including a video of it below, along with the opening remarks provided by the event’s beneficiaries, the American Lung Association and the American Cancer Society.

Since returning to Los Angeles, I continued to participate in Lung Cancer Awareness Month by attending the Shine a Light event hosted by Huntington Memorial Hospital, where I had been a speaker last year.

Gratitude, Thanks and Appreciation

Continue reading Breathe Free Walk 2016 Recap

The Breathe Free Walk to End Lung Cancer

I am speaking at the First Annual Breathe Free Walk to End Lung Cancer sponsored by the American Lung Association and the American Cancer Society. The walk is designed to raise awareness of Lung Cancer and funding for research. Following is a transcript of my brief comments to take place before the walk.


November 6, 2016 : Opening Remarks for the Breathe Free Walk to End Lung Cancer, Fort Mill, South Carolina

I’m pretty darn happy to be here. Two years ago today, I was diagnosed with inoperable metastatic adenocarcinoma, more commonly referred to under the umbrella term of Stage IV Lung Cancer. As a relatively young non-smoker who ate healthy food and led an active lifestyle, took my vitamins and got plenty of sleep, you might imagine that this diagnosis was a bit of a surprise. But if you’ve followed my story on my blog, as I know some of you have, then you also know that when I started this journey I did so with a substantial amount of faith. That same faith is shared by the organizations sponsoring this event, and by proxy, it is shared by you who have come here today. And that is faith in modern medical science.

We all have faith in lots of things. And there are different types of faith, to be certain. Spiritual faith often plays a key role in the emotional health of patients, perhaps making it possible for them to endure difficult treatments or to remind them that there is something greater of which they are an important part. Faith in our friends and family can be essential as we worry about things we may not be able to take care of on our own, even for those of us who have a hard time leaning on others. These expressions of faith, they allow us to trust in some kind of a safety net that will be there in the event that we are pushed or slip or even jump headlong. And undergoing treatment can feel any of those ways. Continue reading The Breathe Free Walk to End Lung Cancer

Raising Awareness About Lung Cancer

After the interview with Olivia of CN2 News in South Carolina.
After the interview with Olivia of CN2 News in South Carolina.

I was fortunate enough this morning to have reasonably good hair and a beautiful background for a quickly set-up interview in support of this weekend’s Breathe Free Walk to End Lung Cancer. The walk is taking place this Sunday afternoon, the “first annual” fundraising event co-sponsored by the American Lung Association and the American Cancer Society.

If you check back on Sunday, I’ll be posting the speech that will lead off the walk. There is a chance that the local news will be back to cover it, and maybe they will end up airing a bit more of the interview we did today. Below is the one-minute clip that aired during the newscast.

November is Lung Cancer Awareness Month.

I look forward to leading off the First Annual Breathe Free Walk To End Lung Cancer in Fort Mill, South Carolina. It is exciting to be a part of a new awareness campaign, and I’m especially proud that my mother has organized this walk. She brought the concept to the co-sponsors earlier this year and worked with them, as well as local organizations to get the walk set up in time for Lung Cancer Awareness Month.

Breathe Free is a fundraiser dedicated to lung cancer research
Join the Breathe Free Walk to End Lung Cancer

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Thank you!

Chemotherapy Horrors for Halloween and the Truth About Cancer

I take the commitment of a Halloween costume seriously. When I was a kid playing with stage makeup, I made myself look like I had been beaten so badly one Halloween that people forgot I was in costume and wanted to take me to the hospital. This year, I contemplated going as my cancer diagnosis. It seemed appropriate, after all, because I had the serendipity of getting my infusion on Halloween day this year. Just seemed perfect. But then I was thinking about it and, quite frankly, cancer just isn’t as scary as it used to be.

Just Give Me Candy
Because nothing delivers the scares like a guy in an orange shirt.

So I went with the most frightening costume I could come up with: a candy fiend. After all, little is as horrifying as someone coming off of a sugar binge. And my paunch is perfectly highlighted by the tight-fitting shirt that I have now worn for somewhere in the range of 6 to 10 Halloweens. (What can I say, some things are simply classically insidious.)

While a few years ago the idea of a giant tumor might have been amusing to me, and the notion of cancer in general seemed like a properly frightful subject, the story around these has changed for me. Hollywood, of course, still relies on cancer as it’s go-to meme for unsettling disease requirements, but then Hollywood is creatively lazy and uses the most basic shorthand it has for easy emotional manipulation.

The Truth About Cancer Continue reading Chemotherapy Horrors for Halloween and the Truth About Cancer

Keeping Track, Necessary Evil

Since I began chemotherapy, I’ve been maintaining a casual log of my symptoms. It’s one of those things that I will generally spare my readers, not only because it is occasionally gross, but because it really isn’t relevant. There are so many potential little side-effects, ranging from the innocuous to the downright ludicrous and back to the mildly irritable that one person’s experience will never directly relate to another’s. Certainly, there are the big ugly days that speckle themselves in there, but my log focuses on the annoyances.

Here’s why: it is a reminder of how little these things actually matter in the big picture. It also gives me a touchstone for meetings with my oncologist. We need something to talk about, after all, and then I need some reason to feel like an idiot for bitching about the balls of my feet feeling puffy or my nose being dry. Because, at the end of the day, it’s actually worse to have the flu. And I mean that, in a very practical sense, because I often compare my symptoms to being on the verge of getting the stomach flu. It can be unpleasant, but it could be much more unpleasant. Now, I will say this was not always the case. The first three months arguably had weeks peppered in that were worse than the flu I suffered through as a kid. But after my first six rounds of hardcore chemo, the veil of doom was lifted and I entered Walk in the Park Land.

Okay, Walk in the Park Land may not be an entirely accurate description, but by comparison that is how maintenance therapy initially felt.  Continue reading Keeping Track, Necessary Evil

Clearing the Roof

The past two weeks wore on me; at times, I felt like I could drown in the pool of stress I had been slowly sweating out of me, a thick quagmire created of my own internal angst that seemed to engulf me from all sides. I’ve drained that pool in the last couple of days after trying a little exercise I like to call Clearing the Roof. Because I realized that stress is a top-down issue, it was going to have to be dealt with right up there, on the roof, where all that clutter and debris had been sitting, decomposing into mucky, thick, unmanageable gunk. Some of it was fresh, identifiable, easily swept away. Some of it had been there for years and was entirely unrecognizable. A whole lot of it, it turned out, was just settled pollution, junk particles that had come to rest because nothing had ever washed them away. It had been a much longer time than I thought since I had done this kind of personal maintenance.

Good thing I had a tall ladder.

But first, some backstory: For years I have talked about the importance of letting go of stress. I have let it eat at me in the past while I absorbed it from other people like an emotional sponge and the effect is that it triggers very strange migraine effects that mess with the speech center in my brain, causes a blind spot that travels across my field of vision and has, on one particular occasion, caused a trans ischemic event that, for those unfamiliar with the term, is kind of like a small stroke during which I lost control of my body, hallucinated that the table full of Happy Hour beer and appetizers was bouncing around, tossing things at me, and then I could not make sentences that anyone (else) could understand for about twenty minutes while my left hand tried repeatedly to climb up my chest. Continue reading Clearing the Roof

Wrist wrapped for chemotherapy infusion

Infusions With Friends

There is room for a great social media app here, so officially I’m announcing “Infusions With Friends” — everyone needs a game to play while they’re stuck in treatment and when you begin to realize how many people are not only going through chemotherapy at the same time as you, but often having their treatment on the same day, it just makes sense that we ought to be able to hook up and make a game out of it. And if for whatever reason, one or another of us cannot join in the treatment fun as scheduled, it still is nice to have a way to feel inclusive and play along from home.

Chemotherapy infusion tube taped to wrist
The free hand was holding a smartphone and could have been playing Infusions With Friends!

When I got up this morning, I anticipated that two of my friends were likely to be “joining” me in chemo today — one from a a state to the north, one well to the east. It felt good, like there was some camaraderie there, full of mutual encouragement and good times, opportunities to share the view on Facebook or comment on how the mornings were spent with family before going in. And I usually find room for a few jokes around a “cocktail” theme or to comment on the need for better spa services. Sure, my material is starting to wear a little thin, which is all the more reason to get an appropriate app to market quickly. And the play at home feature would have been especially useful for me today, as I discovered that neither of my friends would be joining in from their respective clinics. One was simply a scheduling difference — she goes in tomorrow. The other had some issues with his bloodwork; last week when the same issue prevented his treatment, I thought he had simply lucked out with a week-long vacation from treatment, and I was secretly excited to get him on my schedule because I’m selfish and bored sometimes. So here I was this morning, luxuriously relaxing in my heated, vibrating lounge chair, feeling vaguely lonely in spite of the cheerful nurses and their needles. Continue reading Infusions With Friends

The Chemo Diaries: The Worst Day

With chemotherapy, there is one thing that is certain from cycle to cycle: there is always a dance between the predictable and the unpredictable. Which is to say, much of what a patient goes through can be anticipated, but there is always the possibility of a subtle or surprising change. We plan out our schedule as best we can based on previous experience, but sometimes — perhaps every time — we need to roll with how our bodies react.

Breakfast at my desk
Breakfast at my desk

I had my infusion on Monday (as is my preference). For the past year, it has been safe to say that Thursday (today) would be my “worst” day. I should be feeling the effects in my head and my gut right now, full force; I should be tired, irritable, woozy, even slightly sick to my stomach. I should be curled up on the couch or wanting very much to be there. But I’m eating a bagel at my desk and typing this and ruminating on going out for a burger. And I’m doing the household laundry, a whole week’s worth, but that’s another story.

My last chemo cycle was pretty close to normal, but I started feeling crappy a day early and finished feeling crappy a day early, all more or less. It improved that weekend, because I was more active and felt better by Saturday. I like that as a trend and hope that this weekend is quickly cleared up — especially because the weekend after my next infusion has a camping trip clearly written on the calendar. This is a precedent I can get behind. Yesterday, however, rather than having me feeling crappy a day early, I barely felt crappy at all. It is certainly enough to give me pause. But there may be a very obvious reason for why I’m feeling better (or at least less ill) this time around. Continue reading The Chemo Diaries: The Worst Day