Immunity and Deportment

Just had my second bloodwork since I started Lynparza and everything is holding pretty steady. My CA-125 is 6(!) which is wonderful, and my white count is just a tad below normal.
Despite my numbers being so close to normal, I can’t help but be a little nervous because Jerry and I are about to embark on an epic trip involving lots of commercial plane travel. We leave next week for a couple days in Reykjavik, then a flight to Finland for a plane change to Minsk, Belarus for a week. Then we jet off to Tbilisi for ten days. The way home has a three hour layover in Istanbul.

I’ve ordered antibacterial wipes for the plane, and it has been suggested to me that I should wear a mask in airports. Not sure about that, but at the very least, I will be careful.

This trip is so important to me for so many reasons. We will be seeing friends who stayed with us in Baltimore. It was a trip we had planned to take last spring, and I’m so happy to be able to take it now. I still do get tired so I will work hard to pace myself. But I’m so so excited!

When I saw my oncologist six weeks ago we agreed we could up the Lynparza to 200 at night, leaving it, for the time being, at 150 during the day, and except for the fatigue, I am tolerating it well.

But it was something else she said that really threw me. Very casually, she said, “when do you want to get your port removed?” Whoa! It feels like I just finished chemo but in reality it has been almost a year. I told her I was feeling superstitious and wasn’t sure I was ready. She said she would leave it up to me, but also said she didn’t think I would need it again, but if I did, I could get another one.

Talk about a lot to ponder! I have been going back and forth about it, and right now, I’ve decided I will get it out in June. While it’s true cancer changes a person, I have come to realize I don’t need that physical reminder every day.

It has taken me a while to get “over” treatment. I have finally gotten my emotions back. I didn’t cry for a year, and now I cry appropriately. I have higher highs, and perhaps lower lows, but they feel normal. I was so stoic during treatment. And it wasn’t natural. But it got me through.

I really believe the PARP inhibitor is going to keep me cancer free for maybe forever, so I will get the port out. It’s another step toward my version of normal. I’m ready.

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