One down - 5 to go!

It's now the morning after and I'll take my 1 down, 5 to go over Bernie Madoff's 150 to go any day!

There is nothing to fear from the chemotherapy treatment procedure, unless you're an extreme needle phobe! I mean, they do have to put in an IV! But after 3 cycles of mild steroids, I was literally raring to go (think my pulse was 105). I received the 3 medicines which are the typical protocol for invasive ductal carcinoma - called TAC, which stands for taxotere, adriamycin, and cytoxan. Those don't roll off my tongue as easily as I suspect they will in 6 months time!

I was doubly pleased during my appointment with my oncologist prior to the treatment. Firstly, he addressed my issues with the surgeon's administrator and I tagged her "the weakest link". They'd spoken with her about me, so I'm sure she'll be shooting me daggers with her eyes next time I see her. That's okay, I can tussle with the best of them, especially when my life is at stake! Secondly, Dr. Pippen - which sounds far too Dickensian for a modern day oncologist - approved my trip to Bruxelles around August 13 to take the kids to their dad. I want to be there for their first day of school on August 26, and it looks like I'll get to do that!

So, with a skip in my step, and yes, the racing pulse, I was off to the Infusion Room for my 9:30 appointment. Well, the wait in an Infusion Room lobby can be anywhere between 1 and 2 hours. Mine was closer to one hour, and as your first chemotherapy takes longer due to a slower drip rate (they watch for any allergic reactions), you will be there longer than you expect. We left there at a quarter of 2! Take something to drink and eat! The chemo suite was nice at Baylor, they had cubicle walls and each recliner could be privatized with a curtain. It even came with my own VCR TV.

This morning all is still going well. I was back at Baylor this morning for a shot of neulasta, which your onc may or may not prescribe for you. It is a relatively new medicine that boosts the production of white blood cells and may make your bones ache. I'm just not sure I'll be able to distinguish neulasta bone pain from my regular aches and pains of aging!

This afternoon I am off for more fun - I am going to my hair stylist of 30 years, Scott Cearly (pronounced Curly and yes, his real name), to give him the chance to cut off my hair in a short style. Afterall, he'll have plenty of opportunity to style my hair short next year as it grows out! Why not see what he can do with it now! Really, though, it's not going to be a bad thing to be hairless in a Texas summer of triple digits!

Ladies, if you happen to receive an online petition which concerns insurance companies pressuring members of Congress to agree to pass a law enacting outpatient masectomy surgeries, please take the time to sign it. It was a sad day in medicine when a third party entered into the relationship between doctor and patient - that insurance carrier is always sitting in the office with you!

So now I await the sentinel node surgery on Friday - significant because it will determine whether or not I have to have radiation therapy after the masectomy. It is also significant as if there is lymph node involvement, my risk of recurrence increases by 10% for each lymph node that is positive. These nodes will have to be removed, putting me at great risk for lymphedema, a swelling of the arm which is incurable and something you live with the rest of your life. The pathology won't be back until next week, so I'll have to wait! Unfortunately, while I am in surgery Friday, my daughter Caroline will be arriving at the airport from her summer camp in Baltimore. I'm sorry I can't be at the airport for her, but I'll be looking forward to seeing her beautiful face afterwards!