Suffer the little children

I was recently (Oct. 15, 2005) interviewed on ABS-CBN News Channel (ANC) along with ICANSERVE sister Bibeth Orteza and Ms. Marisa Lopa of ABS-CBN Publishing.

At that interview, I was asked about how the family members were coping with my illness. 

I related to the hosts that on the way to the studio for the interview, I was powdering my face using compact pressed powder when my daughter Dana, 6 years old, asked that she too use the powder. I told her, the powder was for older ladies and that she will get to use one when she reaches high school or even sixth grade (she’s in first grade).

Then she blurted out, “E patay ka na nu’n” (“But you’ll be dead by then”). I felt a knife stab my chest. Still, I started to probe where that comment came from. Why did Dana say such a thing? And she started to cry saying she was just afraid I will die.

It is so painful to see my little one trying to accept the reality that maybe, just maybe, her “beautiful mother” will not live the next five years to see her reach high school or even sixth grade.

Gino, 10 years old, was furious at his little sister saying she’s worrying too much because Mama will not die yet. 

Like I shared at Silver Linings, I cannot dwell on these thoughts of my children too much because I really cannot bear the burden of trying to manage even their personal issues. Just as I have my own lessons to learn, the children must learn their own lessons in this experience we are going through.

Being in the new, normal of undergoing a second round of treatment via oral chemotherapy somehow made me a bit complacent that the children are handling our situation well enough. The bare truth is that they are just as scared as they were in the beginning when cancer first entered our conscious reality at home. 

I may be indifferent to death now, but my children’s fear of losing me has never really gone away—just pushed back from conscious memory and it comes out every so often in the most startling ways. This is what happened when Dana expressed the belief that I could already be dead by the time she reaches high school.

Today, I try to reassure the children constantly that death may be a stark possibility, but God’s help is always a certainty. They will always have all the love and caring they could wish for, whether their mom is physically present or not. 

Who am I trying to convince: them or me? 

I beg you: Please pray for our little family, especially for Gino and Dana. Grappling with cancer is such a tough reality.

Chemo-Round 2

On July 11, 2005, during the first PET scan to monitor treatment progress, new cancer lesions were found on my lymph nodes (neck, hip, groin) and left ribs. The medical oncologist declared my condition a Stage IV (meaning the cancer has spread from the original site [breast] to other locations) and recommended a new round of chemotherapy.

I went for a second opinion. The doc ordered more tests (MRI, CT scan) and the results are encouraging because the physical manifestations of the cancer lesions are hardly noticeable, which means they are only beginning or have not grown enough to produce a big physical lump. Nonetheless, this second doc also recommends chemotherapy due to my medical history (advanced stage breast cancer involving lymph nodes, blood vessels and muscle of the breast).

I went for a third opinion and again this doctor recommended chemotherapy, but the oral type, because my veins have not sufficiently recovered from the six cycles I had last year. Hopefully, this approach will allow me to continue as many of my day-to-day activities as I can (work, school, family life, exercise, social commitments).

I must admit that the prospect of a new round of chemotherapy terrified me but I decided I would go through it all again gladly for the sake of my children. I pray only to be brave.

I know God is in control, but it is so tempting to be weak and ungrateful. I have to believe that I also deserve to live life fully...and that God wants me to live fully, too.

Though I know in my heart that I am ready to die any moment I am called, I am also ready to live battling cancer, if that be God's will. It's just so hard to understand where He is leading me, where He wants me to go.

Steve Jobs says you can only connect the dots in hindsight. I trust one day I will have that chance to connect the dots in my life and say "AHA"! Meanwhile, I trust in God's infinite grace and mercy.

I begin six cycles of oral chemotherapy this week. The schedule is for me to take the medicine for two weeks (four tablets in the morning, four at night) and then be off the medicine for one week. That’s one cycle. And then I repeat until the sixth.

I thank God for all my donors. I am confident that the funds I have received and continue to receive will sustain my treatments until the battle is won. 

I thank God for the additional financial help recently given by my boss and by my fellow survivors, cancer-stricken sisters who feel for me so deeply that they continually reach out to help though they themselves are in treatment or have barely escaped death themselves. Experiencing such love and caring would make any life worth living.

Thank you for your steadfast support and your unwavering love.

This is what I did last summer

Summer in the Philippines was glorious in April and May 2005, notwithstanding the weekly changes (mostly increases) in the price of gasoline. 

April 7 was the day I had my first set of laboratory exams, after spending six months in cancer treatment. The results of my chest X-ray and ultrasound of the entire abdomen were good, with no trace of spread or recurrence. Praise God! It does seem that surgery, chemotherapy and radiotherapy worked together to rid my body of all those cancer cells. Still, we live a day at a time.

My next check up will be via a PET scan in July. My oncologist said the PET scan will be able to detect the smallest cancer lesions, especially in the lymph nodes. However, some co-survivors tell me the procedure tends to over-read, that is, it will tell you that you have cancer even when you don’t. I guess there is no perfect way to do these things and I can only trust in God’s infinite mercy for everything to be well.

Also in April, I started going to a medical doctor-acupuncturist on a weekly basis. Traditional Chinese Medicine is based on a philosophy very different from the one of Western Medicine. I hope these twin approaches I am submitting to will complement each other and enhance my total health and well being. 

During the summer, I was able to join two badminton doubles tournaments, losing all the games I played, yet immensely enjoying the experience. The first one I joined with my neighbor and good friend Tata as partner. It was a neighborhood tourney and we were classified in the lowest skill level. The second one I joined with my husband as partner. It was a fund-raising tourney of the Philippine Pediatric Dental Society and again, we were classified in the lowest skill level. I had a lot of fun and practice kept my weekends busy.

Aside from badminton, I also joined taebo classes in the office twice a week. Research shows that vigorous exercise of 5x a week can reduce the risk of breast cancer recurrence by as much as 50%. 

More important than looking after my health with tests and doctor visits and exercise, I spent the summer renewing my ties with friends and family.

I had lunch with members of the ICANSERVE yahoogroup which I joined last year soon after my first chemo. ICANSERVE is a non-stock, non-profit organization led by breast cancer survivor Kara Magsanoc-Alikpala. It does high impact information campaigns for breast cancer awareness and runs a counseling hotline.

The group, through the facilitation of member Tina, treated several leukemia wards of the National Children’s Hospital to a day out in Sta. Rosa Estates, Laguna. Gino and Dana made loot bags for the children and joined the activity held on April 30, opening their young minds to the reality of severe sickness affecting even young children, as well as the blessing of hope and the strength of prayer in adversity.

Unfortunately, two among us (ICANSERVE members) passed away in the summer (both due to metastasis or spread to other organs of the body). And with the group membership becoming even bigger, we are made keenly aware of how prevalent breast cancer is in the Philippines.

Norman and I (and at one time Gino and Dana) were able to visit our fallen sisters prior to their demise, and we were touched by their fighting spirit. It has not been easy coping, but we learned so much from meeting these lovely sisters of ours. I grieve having lost them, but I also celebrate having known them. It brings me much consolation to hold hands with such brave women during this most unpredictable journey we share.

I also made time for high school friends visiting from Canada and the U.S., meeting up with pals from our growing up days in Tondo. I am happy to be reminded that bonds of friendship from childhood do last forever.

My mom arrived in May from the U.S. where she lives with my sister. She will stay in the country until August. My youngest sister finished a two-year work contract in Saudi Arabia and has chosen to stay in Cavite with her two children. My brother and his wife and son are also visiting from Saudi Arabia. They will return to the Middle East within June.

Being with my mom, brother, sister, nephews and niece brought immense joy to me and my family. Gino and Dana were thrilled to be playing with their cousins, grateful to be loved and cherished by “not only” their mom and dad. =)

It was indeed a great summer, bustling with activity, yet filled with moments of reflection and opportunities to love. 

To cap the wonderful two months, I returned to school to continue my MBA studies. I will spend two nights a week in UP Diliman in yet another trimester of adventure.

        Every day God creates a whole new world of miracles for me, and for anyone who dares or cares to see. I thank God daily for the gift of family and friendship and good doctors and kind officemates and considerate classmates and courageous sisters in affliction. I pray always to be worthy of their kinship. 

        For my own peace of mind, I resolve to live my life to the full…simply because I do not know how long or short this life would be.

A Vacation and a New Normal

Our family went to visit my high school classmate (Monette) and her kin in Sorsogon for the Holy Week. 

We left Antipolo at 3 a.m. on Holy Thursday and reached Gumaca (Quezon province) by 6:30 a.m. We brought egg sandwiches for breakfast but our driver (my husband Norman) needed coffee so badly we stopped by Jollibee for a quick break.

We were back on the road by 7 a.m., tracking the towns as we saw them on the map of Luzon. Seeing the jeepneys loaded with passengers to their roofs thrilled the kids somewhat. The sight of Tayabas Bay, and then Lamon Bay whetted our appetite for the beaches we were heading to.

We stopped for gas in Naga City around 11 a.m. and did not stop until we reached Sorsogon City at 2 p.m. or 11 hours after we left home. We had lunch at Monette’s home in Bgy. Bibincahan and rested a bit. Then, we visited Monette’s mom in Bgy. Ruro. 

We thought we’d be arriving at night so her mom was set to prepare dinner for us. As it happened, when she found out that we were already having a late lunch at Monette’s, she whipped up a delicious escabeche (sweet and sour fish) for us to bring to the resort we would be staying in.

It was another hour and some minutes drive to Villa Luisa Celeste Resort in Bgy. Dancalan, Bulusan, Sorsogon. We were so tired from the day-long trip, and with tummies full from the late lunch, we decided to sleep right away and get some real rest.

Good Friday was spent at the resort, which had a small swimming pool filled with mountain spring water, no chlorine! It was raining on and off, but the kids would be back in the water the moment the rain stopped. The property also faced the beach and Norman pitched a tent. The tide was low, but just the same, the view was quite pretty. 

On Saturday, we went to Subic island off Matnog, the southernmost town of Luzon. It was a half-hour boat ride to the island. Just before we rode the boat, I received a call from my oncologist on my mobile phone. He was spending the Holy Week in Iloilo but was wondering when I would be contacting him, considering I completed my radiotherapy on March 1. 

I was just cleared by my radiation oncologist on March 17, the Thursday before Holy Week, and had really planned to see my medical onco after the holidays. Well, that certainly served as a reminder, in the midst of our wonderfully normal family vacation, that as a ‘survivor’, each breath is miracle…and I should always be grateful for every hour and every day spent with my husband and children.

To the delight of the children, the waves hitting the shores of Subic island were quite strong. There was some drizzling throughout the day. Monette’s dad prepared a feast of crabs and fresh fish broiled with half a calamansi inside. Monette’s children and my children spent the day building a fort in the sand, as if not four years have passed since their last meeting (we last visited Sorsogon in the summer of 2001).

The rather slow drive back home on Easter Sunday, in rainy Quezon roads, took almost 14 hours, including an hour’s visit to Cagsaua National Park in Daraga, Albay. We had lunch in Bigg’s, a diner in Naga City. We passed by Lucena City for broas and native candy. We got confused a bit, entering one-way streets and missing the national highway as we entered poblacions with narrow streets designed for calesas. We reached home past 10 p.m., giving praise to God for the safe trip and the happy memories we brought home.

I have been told that patients treated for cancer enter a ‘new normal’. They try to return to life as they knew it, but should never overdo things for their bodies remain frail, ravaged not only by the disease but also by the drastic treatment they underwent. Their health remains guarded, their future uncertain. 

I welcome this new normal with joy and gratitude. It is by God’s love and mercy that I now remain a ‘normal’ wife, mother and worker. 

And it is by your friendship and generosity that I remain alive and able to continue this extraordinary journey, 218 days after I first faced cancer in the operating room, that otherwise ordinary evening in August 2004.

What a wonderful blessing indeed! 

Getting better, getting well

Getting well proved to be challenging during my last week of LINAC (linear accelerator) radiotherapy (RT). The RT prescribed to me consisted of three 30-second exposures, one was high-intensity using photons to reach the inner recesses of the treatment site while the other two used electrons and targeted the superficial layers of skin and muscle. 

I was fine until Day 25 when I completed the high-intensity (photon) exposures. The electron exposures were to be given an additional three days or up to Day 28.

On Day 26, I developed blisters and raw skin began to appear on the treatment site. They were really painful. What’s more, I ran out of the ointment for radiation burns on Day 27 and couldn’t get a new one until Day 28 which, due to a holiday, a weekend and the doc’s sked, fell five days later.

Aside from the stinging pain, the treatment site looked horrible and I felt down in the dumps for most of the last two weeks. My children and husband gave me major support, helping me place the required ointments and creams, where I couldn’t see or reach. The scabs which formed later on wide areas of the treatment site also limited my movement to some degree.

I never felt so ugly in my entire life, but of course the treatment site was hidden from public view by the loose cotton shirts I’ve been wearing since RT began. Norman took a photo of the site on Day 28, and if some of you have the stomach for medical skin cases, you can compare it with the photo my children took on Day 23. 

I am posting them to guide future RT patients on what may happen toward the end of treatment. But I warn you, it is very ugly so please don’t check it out if you are squeamish about these things.

As in all days throughout the treatment, God has given me wonderful gifts even in the midst of trial and pain. Aside from receiving new and additional donations, I was able to hold the hands of two co-patients who began RT as I was finishing mine. I shared with them my experience and showed them my treatment site. I now pray they will avoid some mistakes I made like forgetting to bring my ointment on a treatment day and also forgetting to go to some doctor’s appointments. 

I also stopped wearing my bandannas after Day 27 and began going to places (church, office, supermarket, etc.) bald. What a liberating experience! After wearing a bandanna for six months, going bald made me feel free and well. 

Finally, by God’s grace I have been able to continue playing badminton two or three times a week. It’s like pain therapy for me because I forget all my aches when I start hitting that shuttlecock. I am playing so lousily, and I thank my husband and neighbors for indulging me even if I pose no challenge to their practice for a neighborhood tourney. 

I am thinking of joining the tournament myself, so I am praying fervently that my wounds will heal and the site will not scar, at least not too badly, so that I can improve my level of play.

When I think about these last two weeks and see how horrible the left side of my chest looks right now, I think the Lord Almighty is reminding me gently to slow down. My oncologist told me to rest for a month after chemotherapy before beginning RT but I wanted so much to get my treatments over and done with that I started RT 13 days after my last chemo.

As a result, my skin’s ability to heal itself was quite disabled, and I until now, my wounds are healing ever so slowly. This is because the chemo drugs attacked all rapidly dividing cells, primarily to kill the cancer cells, but also including all other such rapidly dividing cells like those on my skin and in my stomach.

Admittedly, I can never go back to my old self. I may be getting better and getting well, but I must remember that the rigors of cancer and its treatment have aged my body beyond my biological years. It is a fact I have to accept.

Nonetheless, like Soraya, the singer who also went through breast cancer treatment, “I thank the Lord I’m no one else.”

Radiotherapy Day 23

Radiotherapy Day 28

Homestretch

I greet these latter days of February with much eagerness and hope. I am in the homestretch of a long, if grueling treatment regimen.

My 28th and last day of treatment (radiotherapy by Linear Accelerator) is on February 28, 2005, six months after I underwent surgery (modified radical mastectomy) on August 28, 2004. In between, from September 16 to December 31, I had six cycles of chemotherapy (TEC, or Taxotere (Docetaxel)-Epirubicin-Cyclophosphamide) spaced three weeks apart. 

Throughout these last six months, the unwavering love of my family, and the steadfast financial and moral support of my donors, relatives and friends have kept my flagging spirits up. 

I remember many moments of despair and sometimes, even anger…but none lasted for very long in witness of the outpouring of God’s bountiful blessings and tender mercies for me and my family.

Cancer and its treatment is an utterly indescribable experience that I wish no one ever has to go through. It is exhausting, physically painful, emotionally draining, temporarily disabling, but also permanently life-changing. I pray that we who must suffer this shall always choose to change for the better. 

Recovery is a welcome prospect. I finally resumed driving longer distances over the pre-Valentine weekend. I could not risk doing this during chemotherapy due to the dizzy spells and occasional aches and pains I had.

I quickly relearned all the cuss words drivers on Philippine roads are wont to say. But I couldn’t say them out loud because my brave children were my only passengers for the day. =)

I now drive myself to and from the hospital for radiotherapy (just a short five kilometers roundtrip), placing a pillow on my chest so the seatbelt would not scratch the radiation burns under my loose cotton shirt.

I’ve also resumed playing badminton twice (sometimes thrice) a week, although my fingers still feel somewhat numb (from the chemotherapy drug). 

I started feeling numb after Chemo 5 and I read somewhere it could be permanent. My hair hasn’t grown back, my nails are still black—all side effects of chemo. And I do feel quite tired in the late afternoons following my noontime radiotherapy. 

Still, these shouldn’t stop me from trying to make my life as normal as it could be. I am truly grateful for every single day that I am alive. Life is a wonderful, wonderful gift from the Lord! And my life, which you have helped extend, is your very own wonderful, wonderful gift to my family. =)

Again I thank all of you, my donors, for standing by us in this, our time of need. My children and I pray daily for your good health and success. May all the good that God gives be yours, today and always.

Radiotherapy days

The day before I began radiotherapy, I spoke with a friend whose dad underwent LINAC radiotherapy (the same one I was to use) for lung cancer. The dad complained of a painful burning sensation in his chest beginning the third week of treatment. The first two weeks were fine, but it was all downhill after, in addition to the pain, he felt so tired and weak all the time.

That gave me the jitters, aside from the fact that my friend’s dad eventually died. 

But my first 8 days of radiotherapy have been manageable. I just apply this kind of burn ointment on my chest twice a day and the skin’s redness and associated pain subside quickly. Norman and I think it’s a miracle gel because it really works.

I’ve also adjusted to the routine of daily hospital visits (my sked is from 1 p.m.). I am able to work all morning. If I’m done early at the hospital (like before 2 p.m.), I go back to the office. If I finish late (like at 3 p.m. or onwards), I take the afternoon off and wait for my officemate to pick me up at the corner of Lanuza Street and Ortigas Avenue on our way home.

I had to miss four consecutive days of treatment while the hospital’s computers were being upgraded to accommodate all the patients’ information. There are just so many people seeking treatment. I welcomed the four-day break because I was able to resume playing badminton. I had earlier decided to stop playing to conserve my energy.

I promise not to overdo it. I will listen to my body. Remember, I’ve been getting enough sleep now, with no schoolwork to take home. 

The best news yet is that my month-long cough has been resolved! I’ve had the cough since before my last chemo (December 30-31). I got a prescription for an antihistamine which I should take for 7 days. It’s just been two days and the cough bid adieu. I don’t miss it at all. =)

I’ve said goodbye to my face mask as well, although some friends have ribbed me about putting it back. Not because I could catch a virus but because I look better with a mask covering my face. =)

Gino is also having second thoughts about having my hair grow back. He says he’s already used to having a bald mom. 

Expenses for radiotherapy have so far amounted to P25,391.80. Added to the cost of chemotherapy of P386,444.32, we have so far spent P411,836.12 for treatment. 

My family and I are immensely grateful to our donors who have made continuous treatment possible. I cannot help but cry when I think about how good people have been to us throughout this difficult period. We have received so much love and kindness.

Although we do not know what lies ahead, we face the future with courage because of the faith you have shared.

Thank you for standing by us. Thank you for embracing us. Thank you for showing to us God’s mercy in word and deed.

May His mighty hand keep you in good health and lead you to success

Post-Chemo, Pre-Radio

The middle of last week wasn’t too good for me. After I finished my home medication, I started vomiting, the first time I did so after completing six cycles of chemotherapy. I coped by praying for mercy, buying extra medicine and getting plenty of rest.

My son Gino worried a bit because he was so confident I was on my way to recovery and suddenly my body was not hewing to our ‘vision’ of recovery. 

Still, the Lord smiled upon us and by the end of the week, my blood test showed all indicators just slightly below the normal range. I did not even need an extra injection of Granocyte to increase my white blood cells this time.

I was also able to play an hour of badminton on Sunday. Then on Monday (yesterday), my daughter Dana made my heart sing. She had homework that asked, “What superpower would you like to have and why?” Her answer: “I want the power to heal all sickness. So I can cure my mother of her cancer.” 

Indeed, children are every parent’s richest treasures. I thank God daily for mine. =)

This morning, treatment planning for Linear Accelerator (LINAC) radiotherapy held one surprise for me: six tiny dot tattoos to mark the reference points for the machine.

I did not expect to get those tattoos and they hurt during the getting! What’s more, they’re permanent! The LINAC staff members assure me they’re really small dots that wouldn’t be too obvious once they fade somewhat over time.

I actually cried because the electric needle really hurt. And to think that they were just six little dots. I now wonder how those people with tattoos all over their arms and backs manage having the tattooing done. I just wasn’t prepared for that, I guess. Another learning experience, but of course!

Radiotherapy begins on Thursday, January 13. The treatment will run for 28 weekdays and my schedule is between 1 and 2 p.m. Weekends will be rest days. 

Other than fatigue, no pain and no side effects are expected, and I should be able to work as usual.  =)

I received new donations in the last two weeks and I thank all of you who continue to stand by me. My family and I are truly grateful. Your steadfast support allows us to live normally and honorably. You make us brave and hopeful. 

We lift up your kindness and generosity to the Lord Almighty. We know we shall never be able to thank you enough, but we trust God shall do so on our behalf. 

Home from Chemo 6

On the afternoon of Thursday, December 30, friends from Hostmanila kept me company as I was admitted into hospital for my sixth and God-willing, last chemo cycle. Gul was his usual wacky self, and son Jace doubled the fun with his own antics. It was indeed a welcome break from the monotony of hospital procedures.

The doctor took extra precautions, ordering a slow drip or administration of the main chemo agent, which took almost 15 hours to empty into my veins. 

And so it was that in the morning of Friday, December 31, the nurse removed the intravenous drip and it was simply exhilarating! I could not believe it was finally over. And that I could have my life back. =)

New Year’s eve mass at 8:30 p.m. could’ve been better. I felt so weak, but at the same time, duty-bound to give thanks to God Almighty for stringing new miracles for me everyday. I didn’t eat at all, just drank a can of Ensure and took my take-home medicines.

We had a few fireworks for the kids. But mostly, it was the neighbors regaling us with theirs. It was exhausting and I slept until 11 a.m. the next day. 

My taste buds still aren’t working too well, food has no flavor. My fingertips and toes are numb. There’s a dull pain on my right abdomen. Still, I am confident all these are minor inconveniences that shall pass, and the normal workings of my body will come back in due time.

Dr. Joyce of Taytay has been dutifully checking in on me, making sure I get those shots to normalize my blood count. 

Expenses amounted to P71,475.25 for Chemo 6, P65,404.22 for Chemo 5, P71,379.42 for Chemo 4, P61,617.68 for Chemo 3, P55,485 for Chemo 2 and P59,187.25 for Chemo 1. Total expenses for my treatment have reached P384,548.82. 

My children and I give thanks daily for the prospect of complete healing, the promise of full recovery. Gino has even shared with his classmates the good news of the last chemo cycle. It is a milestone, filling us with hope and joy!

I am scheduled for treatment planning for Linear Accelerator radiotherapy on January 11 in The Medical City. Meanwhile, I pray all is well with you, my donors and friends. God’s hand continues to touch me gently through you. His love is forever, His caring whole. 

I am told by those who have been there that radiotherapy is a breeze compared to chemotherapy. I have no doubt that with your love and support, it shall be so.