New year

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted anything because there really hasn’t been much to post. The symptoms I had on the last trial pretty much went away after I stopped the drug, and the weekly Taxol treatments I was receiving weren’t particularly eventful. Every Monday, I’d go into the hospital; every Monday, I’d have chemo.

I’ve completed three 3-week cycles of Taxol and go in for a CT scan this week. I expect that as of next week, I’ll be off Taxol and looking to clinical trials again. My tumor marker has been rising, despite the chemo (not a surprise) and after three months without symptoms, I can feel the ascites building up in my abdomen again. It’s subtle, but I can tell it’s time to have the fluid drained because I can’t eat or drink much without feeling absurdly full, like I’ve sat down and gorged on a huge meal, even if all I’ve had is a cup of coffee or a piece of toast. And my muscles hurt, like they’re constantly distended (because they are).

When I see my oncologist next week, we’ll confirm whether or not the chemo has been working, but like I said, I don’t think it’s done anything. This is what I expected when I started the weekly chemo, which I was reluctant to do in the first place — I was seriously considering not doing any treatment until new trials opened up this month, and now I wonder if I should have done that and saved myself the hassle of weekly hospital appointments and losing my hair. There’s not much point in dwelling on it though; there’s no way of knowing one way or the other whether I would be in a better or worse situation had I not started chemo, or if I would be in exactly the same place I’m in now.

It’s frustrating to be back to square one with fewer options at hand. For reasons I’ll explain another time, getting into a trial with the class of drug that I am most likely to respond to will be difficult, if not impossible. I’m not sure what other trials will be available to me, though there’s a high probability that I’ll end up in an immunotherapy trial. I’ll know more next week after I’ve talked to my oncologist. Until then, I’ll just sit tight.


About Alicia Louise

I'm a writer, editor, fact checker, storyteller, events organizer, chronically busy yet endlessly lazy, mildly neurotic (though I keep the neuroses well-hidden, one hopes) 32-year-old with recurrent ovarian cancer. I like people and good writing and straight talk. I have a hard time feeling sorry for people, including myself, but the people that I love, I love passionately; one may even say creepily. I try to keep that mostly to myself. I'd like to be charming, but I'm usually just a mess. I'm like a gull slamming into your windshield.
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6 Responses to New year

  1. Catherine says:

    Good luck with the trials, Alicia. I’m only starting to learn how slippery they are to grab.

  2. Owen says:

    Alicia, I’m praying for you through tears
    Oh I hope immunotherapy or other options work for you
    You are such an awesome and especially witty person, such a good writer too!
    I hope you know that!!

  3. Luke Burbank says:

    Thinking of you, and your shitting prospects.

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