On to Radiation

Once I had recovered (sort of) from chemo - it was time to start radiation therapy! I started last week - and go each weekday for a total of 30 times. All scheduled out - I should be done September 24th - WAHOO! It is very nice and helpful to see an "end date." 

So far, the treatments aren't too bad. I check in, change clothes, and then they get me "lined up" on the machine. This "line-up" process, which takes about 5-6 minutes, actually takes longer than the radiation treatment itself, which takes about 4 minutes. Then I change again, and I'm on my way. I'm usually there no longer than 20-25 minutes. 

I hear the two noticeable side effects are tiredness and skin burning (kind of like a sunburn).   These effects are usually not so noticeable in the first few weeks - but the radiation effects becomes very "cumulative" and side effects are much more noticeable as you progress through treatment. We'll see how it goes. So far, a little burning (darn fair skin!) - but otherwise not too bad.

As of today, I've completed 7 of 30 treatments (that's 23.333% for those of you who love numbers). 

Otherwise, I am doing well. I try and do some walking each day (a few miles), even though I am kind of slow. I have been able to keep up with most of work (thanks to great staff and understanding directors), participate in a fair amount of choir events, and participate in some fun times with kids and grandkids. I am pretty lucky! 

On a fun note - Blake celebrated the end of chemo by spending some time in St. George. We only had about 48 hrs, but had a marvelous time! I highly recommend "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" at Tuacahn. I fell in love with the music and the whole experience! We also got to visit Blake's sister, Julie and family, spend some time exploring Pine Valley, and some hiking in Zion's - spectacular! 

Thanks to all the wonderful friends, family, and colleagues who are so incredibly helpful and supportive!

The Final Chemo

I finished chemo #3 on July 3rd and #4 (the caboose) on July 23rd - YAHOO!!! Sounds like I really don't like to celebrate holidays - right? Wrong! It's just how it all lined up. But when I left the HCI Chemo Day Spa on the 23rd - I was so happy! I felt like I had crossed a major milestone - but I also knew that the storm clouds were looming on the horizon because the last "chemo tsunami" would be here soon. Well, it came . . . and then took it's sweet time to leave . . . but I'm feeling like I am now climbing out of the deep, dark hole I fell into. (Each time with chemo, the hole somehow gets deeper and darker.) I'm just grateful that I only 4 rounds were recommended. Others have had to do more and had it worse. I'm just grateful to be DONE! 

Now - I'm hoping in a few weeks my hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes will start to grow back. I don't think I'll ever complain again about doing my hair each morning. While I'm grateful for a wig, hats, and makeup - there's nothing like your OWN!

And what about that horrible metallic taste? Hopefully it will go away sometime soon. One benefit - it has definitely turned me off to chocolate! But it HAS turned me on to lime - lime popscicles, key lime pudding and pie, even key lime Oreo's (thanks, Kammy). I made the mistake of going for crab cakes to celebrate finishing Chemo #4 - UGH! Never have crab cakes tasted so AWFUL. And it wasn't the fault of the crab cakes. It will be a while 'til I try them again.

Today I met with the radiation oncologist and her team to make plans for radiation - including body molds and putting down tattoos in order to accurately  and consistently line up future beams of radiation. Yup - I now have tattoos! We will start next week, and I am scheduled for five days a week for six weeks. That seems like a long time, but I think it will go fast. And, I'm glad to be located so close. I could literally walk to HCI from my office in 20 minutes. They say the side effects of radiation are easier to bear than chemo - mostly skin burning and some fatigue. I'm hoping so. The way I see it - I should be done by the end of September - HOORAY!

Lately, I feel like this cancer thing is a marathon run. I'm only at mile 19 (yeah, at least I have made it this far) with seven more to go, and another hill looming ahead, no finish line in sight, and I've "hit the wall." How will I keep putting one foot in front of another? How will I ever find the energy and strength to finish? What if I don't make it to the finish line? Then I hear someone call out my number to cheer me on - and I get a fresh burst of energy! The "someone" is all of you - family and friends, cheering from the sidelines - telling me I can do it. Thank you so much! I hope I can be your burst of energy and cheerleader sometime when you need it.

Chemo - Round 2 & Happy Birthday, Dad!

Last Friday, Blake and I headed back to the Huntsman Cancer Institute for Round 2 of chemotherapy. Thankfully, the infection had cleared well enough and blood levels were high enough that Dr. Ward felt like we could proceed. Hm . . . thankfully? Yippee? Well, let's just get on with it, get things moving forward, and get it over with - right? 

Actually, the day "of" chemo isn't too bad. In fact, I look at it kind of like a visit to the HCI Chemo Day Spa. There is a very comfy recliner and TV, all the warm blankets, juice and cookies you could want, a beautiful view of the entire valley, very nice people who hover to make sure your "experience" is going well, and the crab cakes for lunch were delicious! Really, all that was missing was the mani and pedi! See - here's a picture of me during Round 1. Don't I look happy? (I sure miss my REAL hair)

Everything went well - I was "unhooked" and sent home to await the coming of the "chemo tsunami." My experience (all of one other time) is that the yucky stuff rolls in about 24 hours post-chemo. And yep, the tsunami rolled in about then - but I'm doing ok. Today I feel pretty tired, weak and shaky, my mouth is sore, and nothing tastes right. But I'm up and around, the nausea isn't too bad, and I don't feel as "foggy" as I did yesterday. Hopefully the next few weeks will be "uneventful" as my platelets and red and white blood cells drop out of site, then come back - just in time for Round 3!

Yesterday was my dad's 85th birthday. What a great opportunity to celebrate the life of such a great man. Dad taught us how to work hard and do a job well. He taught me how to live conservatively, the value of education, how to organize finances, and how to file my income taxes. He paid for lots and lots of piano lessons, and has come to many recitals and concerts. He worked hard and long and steady to support a family of six kids. But probably the best thing about my dad is how he treated our mother. There has never been a better husband than my dad. He took such good care of our mom! Last week they would have celebrated 60 years together. I know he misses mom a lot - but we're all very glad we still have him here with us. Happy birthday, dad!

A Step Backwards - and Happy 22nd Anniversary!

A quick update. Blake and I visited HCI Friday morning. While the cellulitis was somewhat better (about 10%) - that's after a week of IV Vancomycin - not really good enough. So the decision was made to remove the expander so that the infection could clear and  I could continue with chemotherapy. We were the last case of the day - didn't go to the OR until about 5:00pm.  But everything went well, I got great care, and we were on our way home by 8:00pm. 

Now the goal is to continue work to clear up the infection - then back to chemo when I'm better and the wound is well on it's way to healing. I laid low over the weekend and stayed home from work today. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Thanks, Blake, for again taking such good care of me and for keeping my spirits up! I know this is a step backwards, but there will be many more steps forward here soon.

Of note, today is a very special day. On this day in 1992, I started my job with the Division of Pediatric Emergency Medicine. Wow - I was in my mid-30s then, with three teenagers! The group was very small then (just moved from five to seven attendings, and there was only a part-time staff and ME). We were not even really a division yet. But we have grown and morphed into a fabulous division with more than 25 attendings, seven fellows, and a full office of staff. We are respected within the university and around the country. I have been so incredibly blessed to work at a job that I have dearly loved with people that I think of so highly - and who highly value ME. My work has been challenging, educational, interesting, downright fun - and no two days in 22 years have been the same. I work with the most amazing - and ecclectic - group of physicians and staff who are incredibly dedicated, interesting, brilliant, fun, entertaining, and just really great "humans." They always make me smile. I'm pretty sure no one has enjoyed their job more than I have - even over a 22 year stretch. They have been very helpful and supportive during this recent illness and setbacks. Yes, I am truly blessed! Thanks, everyone!

The "Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" of the Weekend

The GOOD parts of the weekend: 

• The Carl Bloch art exhibit at BYU's Museum of Fine Art - so incredible, and so inspiring! Imagine gazing upon this qualify of amazing art work - most of it all the way from Denmark! This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
• The first time since her funeral visiting my mom's gravesite with Blake and my dad. It was a beautiful, clear morning - the perfect setting to look out across Utah Valley from the base of Mt Timpanogos - just what my mom would have loved! 
• Visiting with Heather and family in Logan. It was fun to see all the kids again, to enjoy a delicious barbecue on their new patio, and to watch a fun softball practice game with Blake, Heather, Jared, Em, and Josh. 

The BAD part of the weekend: 

• The mastectomy-expander infection site remains angry and red - even after 9 doses of Vancomycin (one of the "big guns" of antibiotics). How could that be? I am glad that I feel somewhat better, but I don't feel great, and I'm a little worried. I have until Thursday to get better. If no improvement, serious consideration for removing the expander - UGH! 

The UGLY part of the weekend: 

• As I woke up Sunday morning, I ran my fingers through my hair and came back with significant CLUMPS of hair in my hand. Yes, the great "fall-out" had begun - and soon my hair was everywhere! By Monday evening I had more scalp visible than hair. I asked Blake to shave the rest of it this morning - indeed, an act of love on his part! Well, it's not like I didn't know it would happen. Somehow, in the back recesses of my mind, I sort of thought I might be "exempt" from this part of chemo. Guess not. Oh well, I'm okay with it. The "ugly" part isn't the fact that my hair fell out - it's the look of my bare scalp. Thank goodness for lots of options to cover a bare head. I'll be ok - I know it will grow back. I hear it may grow back different, though. I'm hoping for purple and spiky! 

Polly – Meet Vinny!

On Thursday (May 22^nd) – I had a wonderful day! I felt like I climbed out of the 8 days of chemotherapy “haze" (aka "bleh"). I felt good and I had energy! I went to work where I accomplished some good things, went for a good walk around Research Park, then to 3½ hrs of choir to tape the last chorus for the new Messiah CD. I felt like a new woman after the "bleh" of the previous 8 days. It reminded me of the short January days in Utah when the valley is hugged in haze and smog. You are so weary of not seeing the sun or the blue sky. Then you take a "therapeutic" drive up to Snowbird or Park City – and somewhere along the way you climb out of the "soup," and there’s blue sky and sunshine . . . AH! That’s just how Thursday felt - and I was elated! I felt like I really could do this chemo thing. But alas, if there is a lesson I've learned lately, it is that cancer treatment seldom follows the most direct and outlined course. It seems to have it's own unique agenda! 

I woke up Friday to a temperature, a very red mastectomy-with-expander site, and just feeling sick. DARN! Another morning spent at HCI to check blood levels, evaluate the problem, and decide on a treatment plan: Vancomycin IV q12h for 2 wks - thankfully home therapy, not inpatient (except that I will miss the crab cakes at HCI). See what happens when chemo trashes your immune system? All sorts of bad, little germs get excited and revved up and start to "have their way" with you! 

Well, thank goodness for Polly the Port! She quickly came into service and continues to provide valuable access. I code-named the Vancomycin "Vinny." Thus, Polly meets Vinny! They are going to be close friends for the next two weeks! The home health nurse came last night and again this morning to show Blake and I how to hook up and run the infusion. It's pretty cool technology that makes it simple enough for almost anyone to give their own IV antibiotics twice a day. I just have to run around hooked up to a large apple-sized container of very expensive medicine. Now we're on our own to make it happen - with lots of instructions and phone numbers to call if we have a problem.

I already feel better today (YEAH!) - so we're off to Utah Valley to take my dad to mom's gravesite in Orem, then to BYU Art Museum to see the Carl Bloch art exhibit. 

The "Bleh" of Chemotherapy

OK - the day of chemotherapy wasn't too bad. In fact, I could see how people would be able to ride their bike to and from chemo, and how they could carry on normal activities that evening. I even spent that evening at choir for a 3 1/2 hr taping session. But ya gotta know, the storm clouds were gathering, and the barometer was dropping, the storm was approaching - things were about to change! 

I felt pretty good the next morning (Day #2) - good enough that I got up and went to work. I was a little shakey, and my bladder was ramped up to super-hyperdrive (annoying!) - but I was feeling pretty good and happy to be at work and happy to be productive. However, the storm clouds continued to gather . . . 

That afternoon, I went to HCI for my shot of Neulasta (the drug the stimulates your bone marrow to produce more white blood cells, as chemo has now destroyed them) - and then an errand on the way home. Somewhere between there and here, IT HIT: overwhelming tiredness, nausea, and general BLEH! I wasn't much good the rest of the night. I didn't make it to choir that night for taping (or any other night during the week, for that matter).

The next day (Day #3) was more of the same - just a whole big long day of it - and more intense! Thank goodness for good nausea drugs, some time off work, and a nice big recliner.  Now, in addition to the hyper bladder, and BLEH feeling, eating sounded like the worst idea in the world. Nothing sounded good, and everything tasted funny. Oh, and to add a little insult to injury, the Neulasta kicked in. Stimulating the bone marrow to rev up production means a deep, intense bone ache. I thought I was a little old for "growing pains" - but that best describes it: my sternum, jaw, femurs - they all ache. Well, maybe it's just old-age arthritis! 

The next couple of days have been more BLEH and achiness - but thankfully, much less than Day 3. So I suspect I see the pattern and how it will probably go for me the next three rounds of chemo. While it's tough and I don't feel great - I feel pretty lucky:
- The drugs help it to be manageable. They have controlled the nausea pretty well (no throwing up yet) - and the achiness gets better with pain meds.
- I know the achiness will get better (drugs are somewhat helpful) - and I'm glad to have a way to make new WBCs so I don't get too low
- I have a wonderful team at work who are doing a fabulous job so that I can take some time off work
- I have a very observant, helpful, experienced, and loving husband who knows what to watch for and how to help manage the side effects
- I still have all my hair . . . TODAY! (I know this is short-lived, though)

Chemo Infusion #1

Today was my first day of chemotherapy infusion. I must say - I have been pretty nervous about this day ever since the appointment was scheduled. But I am happy to report that it all went much better than I expected! 

Blake and I started the morning at Huntsman Cancer Institute at 9:00am with lab work. This was the first access using Polly the Port - and I'm happy to report she performed perfectly! Then there was a visit from the plastic surgeon to assess the expander and put more fluid in the expander and drain off yet another 35 cc of fluid from redundant areas - SHEESH. After that, a final visit with the oncologist and NP to go over expectations, instructions, etc. And finally, a walk down to the Infusion Center to get hooked up to the mega drugs that are supposed to seek out and kill nasty cancer cells! 

The whole day went very well - except for HCI's new computerized medical record system (just started a few days ago) - which made everyone, and everything . . . SLOWER! But it all worked out, and I was so relieved that the infusion went well, and I didn't feel bad AT ALL. (I hear that part will come in a few days.) In fact, Blake and I got some reading done, a little talking, I worked on email, and we had a nice lunch from HCI's Bistro. I hear the most likely symptoms will be nausea (which I am well-prepared for with a host of drugs) - and the almost-100%-guarantee that my hair will begin to fall out soon - UGH!

I had my hair cut short last night in preparation for the start of hair loss. I think it will help the "clean-up" and transition go better. I also found a couple of hats (with Blake's patient and understanding help) that I think will be ok. I've been kind of a stinker about the hat/scarf thing. 

Lots to be grateful for today! 

- everything went better than I expected
-  it's a beautiful spring day - the hills are so green and the sun is shining

- the opportunity to celebrate mothers just a few days ago (I had one of the best ever - thanks, Mom!), and the opportunity to BE a mother (thanks Andy, Heather, and Greg for being patient with me)

- a wonderful, knowledgeable, supportive, patient husband - Blake is THE BEST and I know I am one very lucky girl! 

- lots of great friends and family who are loving and supportive (more later about the amazing support from them at Susan G. Komen race last weekend)
- being able to go into this experience healthy and strong

I am truly blessed!

P.S. I apologize that this blog is not more "glamorous." I'm still getting the hang of it all. So pictures are a little ski-wan-pus. I promise it will get better!

Mom and Dad and siblings - Janet, Darin, me, Angela, and Heidi - Christmas 2013

Laurie and Blake - Top of Snowbird Tram - Fall 2013

What a good-lookin' man!

Greg, Andy and Heather - Thanks for making me a mom!

Brooke and Laurie at Utah Valley Half Marathon June 2012. And I hope to be able to do this again someday. 

Meet Polly, the Power Port

Today is Monday - and I started the week with another procedure at HCI. I had a Power Port inserted just below my left clavicle. This is a quarter-sized device that is implanted under the skin with a catheter attached that goes down through the juggler vein. This provides easy access for blood draws and IV infusions. This port will come in very handy when I start IV chemo next week. I think this new port will be "close to my heart" and with me  for several months. It has become my new best friend - so I gave her a name: meet Polly! 

This procedure is done using a combination of drugs to provide a little more than moderate sedation, but less than general anesthesia. Apparently, today I felt compelled to provide music for the OR staff. After waking up, I remembered something about singing scales in the OR. Afterwards, I asked my surgeon, and he confirmed that yes, indeed, I provided music

for the OR team by humming throughout the procedure! He said it was ok though, because they didn't have any piped in music today - and I filled in nicely. How embarrassing! See what good drugs do for you? Really, it's just hard for us 2nd sopranos to BE QUIET! 

Things to be thankful for today:
- availability of power ports
- a cheerful, supportive husband who got up at 4:45am today to be with me - and then went to work
- excellent, skilled OR staff at HCI
- the gift of music, and a song in my heart :-)

A Morning at the HCI Spa?

On Thursday (May 1st) I spent the morning at HCI "Spa" for a PET scan. This is an interesting study that is designed to identify if you have other cancer cells floating around or settled in other parts of your body. The idea is that you check in at the Radiation Dept. and they inject some kind of radioactive material that circulates throughout your body and would attach to any cancer cells within your body so that they would "twinkle" as you go through the scanner. The reason for the scan was to decide if chemotherapy would be helpful - or not. If there was "twinkling" - I would be considered a Stage 4, and no chemo would be helpful. Hm . . . 

So after the radioactive material is injected, you sit in a nice, comfy recliner swathed in warm blankets, in a darkened room, drinking your pina colada (ok, it's really radioactive contrast material that they tried to flavor as "wild berry"), and you're told to not read, play with your phone, and don't think too hard . . . just relax for the next 90 minutes! That is actually pretty hard for me. The only "spa experience" I missed was the massage! Then they come and put you in the scanner where you can have another relaxing nap for about 25 minutes (the bed not quite as comfy as the recliner). What a deal! 

Happily, the results of the scan are that nothing twinkled! That means I can move forward with chemo. So Monday I am scheduled to have a port-a-cath placed under my left clavicle. I hear it will become my "best friend." I am excited because this will eliminate difficult blood draws and IV starts. I have pretty paltry, pathetic veins (they used the one in my foot/ankle for surgery last month - but can't use that for chemo). I am scheduled to start chemo on Tuesday, May 13th: 4 rounds with 21 days in between. So sad - I'm starting to feel really good again - hate to mess that up!

But ya just gotta know. The best part of Laurie's Life is Blake, kids, and grandkids. What a great blessing! This is a picture from the 2014 Beckstrom/Larsen Family Easter Egg Hunt. What a blast!

Hurray for Wednesday!

Today, another visit to HCI - the radiation oncologist. Dr. Kokeny was very informative as she presented us with lots of facts, data, quoted research studies, and answered our many questions. The bottom line: a course of radiation is recommended after the chemotherapy is completed. All of this is pending the PET scan tomorrow. Hopefully we will have results by the end of the day. Stay tuned . . . The medical and radiation oncology information has been very helpful, but it is also very overwhelming! I am surprised at how emotionally fatigued I feel (I am usually pretty resilient). 

Tomorrow is a very special day - our first anniversary! One year ago - May 1st, 2013 - I married Blake Beckstrom, the most incredible man I have ever known. What fun we have had being together over the last year. And what a pillar of strength, courage, and support he has been for me through all sorts of challenges: broken arms, a busy job, choir practices and tour, kids and grandkids, ailing parents, and now cancer. Indeed, Blake is the wind beneath my wings, and he provides the strength, encouragement, and confidence I need to soar. I love you, Blake!

Huntsman Cancer Institute: My Home Away from Home!

This morning was another visit to Huntsman Cancer Institute for recheck with the plastic surgeon. It was a great visit because I got the last drain (my companion for three weeks)  REMOVED. I am no longer tethered. I have to be careful to not move my arm around too much for the next few days (no small task for me) - but I promised that I would be careful! Reconstruction will have to wait until all other treatment is complete.

Tomorrow is a visit with the radiation oncologist, and Thursday back to HCI to spend a good share of the day in a PET scan. The parking attendants at HCI, the staff at the front desk and the medical assistants of Clinic 3A all know me well. The "feeling" at HCI is a good one. It feels like a place for the most modern, up-to-date treatment, and for healing. There is a fabulous library with helpful librarians, a delicious bistro and cafeteria, beautifully displayed art work on the walls, and the view is spectacular! It is also very humbling to walk through the halls and realize there are many people within the HCI walls who are dealing with very difficult challenges! For so many years, work has been my "home away from home." But this week (and maybe more weeks to come), HCI has become my "home away from home." It is a little over one mile from my office, and I can easily walk to appointments if I want. How lucky I am to have such a great place within my own backyard. 

Recent History

April 29, 2014

I have never ventured to create a blogspot before, but I know that I have many friends, family members, associates, and neighbors who are concerned about and love me.  So I decided to write this blog to keep you informed about what's happening in my life. 

As many of you know, the first week in March I discovered a lump in my breast and decided I had better have it checked out, despite having a "clean" study at my annual mammogram 10 months earlier.  That day began with a medical exam by my doctor, who agreed that I should have another mammogram.  The mammogram led to an ultrasound, and that led to a core biopsy of the lump.  A few days later it was confirmed that I had breast cancer.  Following consultation with Dr. Ed Nelson (a surgeon at Hunstman Cancer Institute) we determined the best treatment option was to have a mastectomy and  removal of sentinel lymph nodes for biopsy.  That surgery took place on Monday, April 7th (right on the heals of a glorious General Conference weekend). The surgery went very well and I was home 24 hours later.  The surgeon identified seven sentinel lymph nodes and removed them for testing.  Five of these were tested for the presence of cancer at the time of the surgery and they were all clean.  We felt extremely blessed with these results.  However, the pathology report we received the week after the surgery showed that subsequent testing of the other two lymph nodes found the presence of cancer! 

My case was reviewed by a panel of doctors called the "Tumor Board" (sounds rather ominous and anonymous, I know) and recommendations were made for me to meet with a medical oncologist, Dr. John Ward, and his staff (nurses, nurse practioner, etc.) at Huntsman Cancer Institute yesterday morning. They reviewed the pathology report with Blake and me.  We were told that  my type of cancer cell is the easiest to treat. It is richly estrogen receptive, it is slow-growing and well differentiated, and the tumor was considered small (1.6 cm).  The stage of cancer would have been considered stage 1, except they found the cancer in the two lymph nodes--that then puts it at stage 2A. They still say that there is every reason to be optimistic about my treatment and complete recovery, which we are! 

I am scheduled for a PET scan on Thursday, where they will scan to see if there are any signs of cancer spread anywhere beyond the lymph nodes.  They don't believe that there is any spread, they just want to make sure. The next step is to surgically place a "port" under my skin that makes it easier to administer chemotherapy in people who have "difficult" (aka non-existent) veins. Then I will probably have four rounds of chemotherapy spaced three weeks apart. About three or four weeks after that I will probably have four or five weeks of radiation treatments. (We are scheduled to meet with a radiation oncologist on Wednesday morning to see what her recommendations are.)

I know I am the luckiest girl ever! But this situation is very difficult for me emotionally.  I know that I am well-loved by many family, friends, associates, and neighbors and I really appreciate your desires to provide love, support and encouragement.  However, it is really hard for me emotionally when I have to re-share the details of this story with all of the friends who want to personally express concern, or offer support, and sympathy.  I would love to have everyone treat me like they would if they didn't know anything about this cancer. That would help me stay positive and upbeat which I need to do. 

So I plan to use this blog to share details about what is happening in my life and how I am feeling.  You can subscribe and keep up to date as you wish.  Thanks for your love, care, support and prayers.