Aranna Overstreet's Blog

This is one cell dividing into two cells. The Cleavage Furrow is the point where the cell will separate.

The dark purple squiggles are the chromosomes. On those chromosomes are many genes, and it is the gene that gets the blast of poison.

Normal Growth

Dividing cells is how we grow. Once we reach adulthood, however, most cell division stops. That is, unless cells need to repair damage. Then, they swing into action and divide again, making new cells to replace the damaged ones.

Cell Division Run Amok

Cancer cells, on the other hand, divide constantly. Too many unnecessary cells create a lump or tumor. Tumors can interfere with body systems and can release hormones that alter body function. They invade and destroy healthy cells. They are the Unwanted Guest.

Chemotherapy Targets Rude, Presumptuous Cells

In chemospeak, “presumptuous” means “dividing.” If a cell is growing and dividing, it now has a bull’s eye painted on its tiny little face.

This is good because the cancer cells deserve to be vaporized.

However, some normal cells continue to divide, replacing damaged cells. These include: skin (and nails), bone marrow, hair follicles and lining of the digestive system. Regrettably, these get swept up in the Chemo Round-Up.

Why More Than One Drug?

Different drugs target different stages of cell division. That’s why using a cocktail of two or more drugs is employed. It’s the shotgun-style of attack. I like this strategy.

Good News

Healthy tissues bounce back after chemo stops. Cancer cells, not so much. Once they’re zapped, they can’t renew.

For more information, see How Chemotherapy Works.

Countdown

So chemotherapy is a necessary evil. I can’t wait to be rid of the treatments and am checking them off the list.

One down, five to go.

I want one of these!

The A. C. Camargo Cancer Center in São Paulo is wrapping chemo pouches with these covers to make treatment a little less scary for kids. Comic books that depict Superheroes’ being healed by the Superformula are meant to provide hope and inspiration.

Couldn’t hurt, huh?

Read more about the A. C. Camargo Cancer Center in São Paulo.

My first day of chemo. I’m smiling because that’s saline dripping from the bag. Saline = good.

My Room

Can’t beat that view, can you?

The visitor’s chair was occupied briefly by the LOVELIEST volunteer ever! She was a breast cancer survivor and cheery as all get out. Presenting me with several freebies (a neck pillow, a heart-shaped pillow to cushion my port from the passenger-side seatbelt, a crocheted cap, brochures for scarves and free cosmetics makeovers and wigs), she brightened my day.

The bubbly nurse gave me a tour of the cubicle and its amenities.

TV, DVD player, magazines, semi-privacy curtain that’s rigged to close more completely with a Bible weight.

TV Remote / Emergency Call

The TV Remote / Emergency Call device came with explicit instructions.

The Red Button was NOT the same as a hospital nurse call button. Here, you push it only if you are in a true emergency situation: bleeding, difficulty breathing, chest pains.

If you want an extra blanket, just wait for a nurse or volunteer to walk by. You won’t be waiting long.

My neighbor on the other side of the curtain had a bullfrog voice. Remember “Our Gang’s” Froggy? Sounded like him all grown up.

I didn’t mind his choice of TV programs (“Andy Griffith” and “Gunsmoke”), but they were kinda loud.

The Good Before the Bad

After the saline, which they gave to determine if the port was working properly, I received a bag of anti-nausea meds. DOUBLE-YAY. This took 20-25 minutes.

The Red Devil

First Cancer-Fighter

Next came the Adriamycin, aka “Red Devil.” It’s a concoction nick-named “Red” for its color (!) and “Devil” for its nasty side effects.

I can attest that it did change my urine to a cherry orange punch color, but that subsided. Small potatoes compared to the other possibilities.

Chemo Brain, another delightful prospect, is a difficulty concentrating, memory lapses, trouble multi-tasking, slower thought processing, and difficulty finding words at times. Sometimes this is temporary, but sometimes it’s long-lasting. Not appealing at all. I could always depend on my brain. If it deteriorates, I fear the essence of me will, too.

Quality of Life

If any of these side effects proves too much to bear, I will discuss other options with the oncologist. Don’t know what these will be — reduction in dosage or switching to other drugs — but this is the quality of life issue I’m ferocious about. I’m going out as me, not as a shell of me.

They can take my self determination when they pry it from my cold, dead hands.

Second Cancer-Fighter

Cyclophosphamide (Cytoxan) was administered next. Lasted only 20 minutes. I felt a slight tingling in my sinuses. Nothing bothersome.

Third Cancer-Fighter

Last came Taxotere. The possible side effects of this one were: face flushing, back pain, shortness of breath.

These qualified as “red button issues.” If I experienced any of these, they would stop the infusion immediately.

Luckily, these passed over!

All in all, a very good day.