1/17/20: (1 Month Post-Chemo, 5 Months Post-DMX) Side Effects and Symptoms

Both my cancers were hormone receptor-positive, which means estrogen and progesterone fueled their growth. Chemotherapy was supposed to kill any existing cancer cells that may have escaped from the tumors, but there's always a chance that whatever conditions in my body that produced the cancer cells in the first place still remain, and so could produce a new cancer. My hormone therapy is supposed to prevent recurrence; the goal is basically to eliminate the presence of estrogen, so there won't be any estrogen to fuel any new cancer growth.

My monthy injection of Lupron is for ovarian suppression; it stops my ovaries from making estrogen (and puts me into a chemically-induced menopause). However, other parts of the body also produce estrogen. So today my medical oncologist prescribed exemestane, a daily aromatase inhibitor pill that will stop any remaining production of estrogen.

I seem to have a compulsion for tracking my side effects and symptoms. So before I take my first exemestane pill tonight, I wanted to record my current baseline of how I'm doing.

It's been about a month since my last chemo infusion, and since then, I've been on just Herceptin and Lupron.

Interestingly, even after chemo ended, I continued to lose body hair, like on my legs and in my armpits. Like the hair on my head, though, it's not complete hair loss, so a few hairs remain.

Meanwhile, the hair on my head has started to grow back. I can see tiny new hairs interspersed with the slightly longer hairs that grew from shaved hair that never fell out.

I stopped noticing blood in my nose about 2 weeks after chemo ended. My sense of taste also seems to have fully recovered.

My eyesight still feels off. The blurriness isn't quite as bad as before, but it's still there.

The acne hasn't really gone away, either, but it's improving.

My belly still feels flabby. I remember being told that menopause makes losing weight more difficult. I haven't made a conscious effort to lose weight yet, though I am about 5 pounds heavier than I was before chemo.

I'm not as tired anymore, as evidenced by my ability to stay up past 9:00 pm on a regular basis. Also, during chemo, I almost always needed to lie down at some point in the late afternoon, but I haven't been doing that lately. (Perhaps relatedly, I've started to drink coffee again, and usually have a cup in the mid-afternoon.)

At 5 months out from my DMX, my chest and right underarm still feel weird, but to an even greater extent than before. The areas are still numb, but also tingly, especially when touched, and my chest actually feels tighter. I think this is what others refer to as the "iron bra" feeling. My upper right arm, particularly around the underarm area, sometimes feels like pins and needles. I wonder if all the increased sensations means that some of the nerves are growing back. And/or maybe I need to do my stretches more frequently and/or consistently.

The cording persists. It comes and goes, but is overall worse than it was at first.

For the record, the stitch that poked out from one of my incisions is finally gone. It was significantly smaller and less noticeable about a month after I first discovered it, but it took over 2 months to fully go away. Now there is a tiny hole where the stitch used to be. I'm assuming it will close up in time.

Recently I've noticed a couple new side effects / symptoms, as I reported to my medical oncologist today. There's the leg stiffness that I first noticed a couple weeks ago, and also the numbness and tingling in my fingers and swelling of my arms (possibly fluid retention) that just started this week.

Geez. When I lay it all out like that, it's depressing. I can hardly recognize my own body. It's hard to believe that one year ago, I felt perfectly healthy. Now, is there even a single part of my body that's come through cancer treatment unscathed?

Honestly, when I think about it, I think my ears, and my sense of hearing, are literally the only things that have not been affected.

From another perspective, of course, I know I'm lucky. I'm still here, and my prognosis is good.