Decided to read my last posting. Should have done it before "publishing". Ugh! Good thing I'm retired!
Penny's car is, in fact, a Subaru NOT a Suzuki (although it has as much pep as a motorcycle). And, yes, I did take a bit of creative license in describing the congestion inside of the car as well as Roz's prowess re driving under pressure - don't believe she exceeded the speed limit once, or at least not by very much.
Also forgot to mention that part of the discomfort issue re my sacrum is a hairline crack in the area that appears as abnormal on the CT scan. I can bend, sit, and stand without too much trouble. Discomfort sets in when I walk, especially on uneven terrain or for long periods of time.
Anything else need clarifying or correcting?
You, gentle reader, will likely be able to figure out the typo and spelling errors as well as the misplaced words - e.g. "showed" appears as "should".
Apologies for the last post not being up to snuff. Obviously it's bedtime for this Bonzo.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Planes, veins, and automobiles
Had more than a little excitement last week, especially on Wednesday and Thursday.
Wednesday began with a float plane ride from Sechelt to downtown Vancouver (Coal Harbour). Phil gave me a couple of tickets before he left, and this was my first chance to use one. Picked a beautiful day for my first ever float plane experience. Only thing that would have made it better would have been the chance to sit up front in the co-pilot's seat, but a rather burly businessman beat me to it. At least I had the back seat to myself so could enjoy the view out of windows on both sides.
Enjoyed the flight enough to do it again sometime. The flight was very smooth - only turbulence was felt when passing over the bit of water between Keats Island and Bowen Island. Travel time was 1/2 that of the ferry, and I arrived considerably closer to my destination. Also appreciated the fact that a free shuttle bus was standing by on the Vancouver side waiting to whisk me to the Skytrain station so that I could quickly and easily make my way to the Cancer Agency. A float plane ride: one more thing off my bucket list!
Little did I know that more excitement was to come once I got to the Cancer Agency lab. Had to give yet another vial or two of blood so the study group could record the various levels just prior to my receiving the chemo drug.
Things were progressing normally enough until the lab tech called my name. That's when the man sitting next to me (he had been there for about 10 mins) touched my arm. It was Jim Toy, principal of False Creek Design Group and former president of the Interior Designers Institute of BC, and someone who I knew quite well in my former life as a architecture/design writer. Jim has had his own cancer battle, and now his mom is also going through it - she was the reason they were at the Cancer Agency. Jim and I spoke briefly before I went in to have my blood drawn. I sat a bit longer in the chair than most following the procedure as I have to press on the puncture site for a while due to slow clotting time (thanks, Dalteparin). When I was finished, I stepped back into the waiting room to talk to Jim and his mom a bit before they, too, met with the morning's vampires. The conversation was cut short, however, when Jim suddenly noticed that the right sleeve of my white linen blouse was rapidly becoming more wet red than dry white. Back in to see the lab tech for a quick clean-up and clean dressing. Made sure things clotted better the second time as I kept pressing the puncture site the whole time Jim and I talked (about another 10 min). In the meantime, his mother opted to go to the treatment room by herself so Jim and I could continue our conversation. When she re-joined us, she insisted on holding her puncture site for at least 10 more minutes. "I don't want to look like her," she told Jim in Chinese! I replied that she need not worry as she already had on a red t-shirt. We all laughed at that. Left the building together as I made my way to the Fairmont Building to see my oncologist at the day clinic.
My oncologist was off on a much-deserved holiday so I had a locum, a woman I had met at least once before. She spoke very fast and I had a bit of trouble following some of what she said. But she wore beautiful blue shoes, so I forgave her. In addition to confirming that I would be getting the study drug, the locum also went over the results of last week's pre-chemo/baseline tests. Seems my back/hip issues are caused by an abnormality in the sacrum (large, triangular bone at the base of the spine and at the upper and back part of the pelvic cavity, where it is inserted like a wedge between the two hip bones). The abnormality showed up on the bone scan, but only a biopsy will confirm whether it is arthritis, osteoporosis, or metastatic cancer. The locum suggested (as did my oncologist) that there might be some benefit from a course of radiation at the site in question as well as the area of my shoulder/neck that is also proving problematic. If that course of treatment was given, there would be a delay in the start of my participation in the drug study. Soooo, I suggested we go ahead with the drug study and, if the back/hip and/or shoulder/neck pain gets worse apply the radiation treatment then. The locum agreed that was the best course of action. So that's what we're doing.
Other than the sacrum issue, not much else was new re the bone scan. The CT scan should some progression of the disease in some areas, but stability or regression in others. On balance, however, everything shows some spread so back on treatment I am.
After the locum (and that day's student - there's a different one every visit) finished poking and prodding and going over the various test results and letting me know how the study would go, I met with the study nurse who went over the study protocol and procedures one more time for good measure. The study nurse reminded me that I could obtain copies of any of my oncology reports or tests results by asking at the release of information office at the cancer agency. I'll do that tomorrow. I'll also drop off the prescription I was given for Imodium at the agency's in-house pharmacy en route to treatment tomorrow (yes, I know Imodium is an over-the-counter medication, but the 'script enables me to have it for free and also enables the study team to count the number of doses I took should I have messed up my record-keeping in some way). I was then released for the day.
Had a very nice dinner with Donna and our friends Karen and Fang (pronounced Fong - she happens to be a microbiologist at the cancer research centre).
On Thursday I reported to the Cancer Agency at 10:30am for my first dose of NKTR-102. Unfortunately, the pharmacy only didn't see the note that indicated my latex allergy until after the drug was prepped for the IV. Turns out the plug in the IV bag was made of latex and there was concern that it might contaminate the drug and, thereby, affect me. So I spent the better part of two hours doing crossword puzzles, reading, and listening to my iPod while the pharmacists scrambled to get the thing sorted out. When it arrived, it was in a brown plastic bag - turns out the drug is somewhat light sensitive. The plastic bag acted as a shroud that hung over the IV bag while the drug was being administered.
The nurse at the chemo day unit told me to let her know if I experienced any of the following while receiving the drug: sweating, watery eyes, runny nose, excess saliva in the mouth. I had none of that, but I did have a headache. Was told that wasn't a noted side effect, but she marked it down just the same. The next 90 minutes passed without incident as the NKTR-102 dripped into my veins.
After saying toodly-doo to the chemo day unit, I rode to Granville Island via taxi. Didn't want to take public transit and/or walk in case there was a sudden side effect onset. Spent time at the studio with Roz, Penny and Barbara before Barbara left for the day and Penny rushed off to an evening event. Roz and I hung out, slurped gelato at the back of the market while watching the boats float by in rhythm to a busker strumming a Spanish guitar. We then dropped by Chapters so Roz could buy a book for Jon's birthday present.
When I first arrived at the studio, Roz noted that I looked a tad "spacey". Nothing specific, but just kinda out of it. I admitted to feeling a bit off, but couldn't say what didn't feel quite right. However, when I started looking at the books on the shelves at Chapters, my vision became noticeably blurred. In fact, it felt like my left eye was moving back and forth very quickly while my right eye was going up and down at a similar speed. Had Roz check my eyes. She detected no movement and reported that the pupils weren't dilated or anything. All appeared normal to her (she's an RN, so a good one to consult re such matters). She concluded that it was something operating at the nerve level. Since I was still able to manoeuvre normally and felt no pain or discomfort other than the blurred vision - which I knew to be a potential side effect of the chemo - I thought it best to see if matters got any worse before seeking emergency assistance. In fact, the sensation gradually lessened as the evening wore on.
Off for home then. Roz was driving Penny's car, which is a wee Suzuki and much smaller than her usual ride which is a Lexus SUV. Leg room was at a premium. Not only because I was sitting in the seat behind her, but because a bamboo ladder was hovering over the emergency break and stick shift at about elbow height. It was impossible to move the ladder to a more convenient spot because the entire - and I do mean entire - car aside from where we were sitting was stuffed to the gunnels with all things fibre as Roz and Penny were transporting their wares to the Sunshine Coast where they would be offered up at the annual Hackett Park Craft Show/Sale. I could barely see out the front window from my vantage point, but somehow managed to direct Roz from Broadway and Granville to Burrard and Davie where we were to rendezvous with Penny. Of course, B&D just happened to be the busiest intersection in the entire Lower Mainland at the time of day, and it took five light changes before we could make the turn off Burrard onto Davie. The delay at the intersection cut deeply into our narrow time allotment, so the drive to the ferry was something akin to a qualifying heat for a NASCAR race.
We arrived at the ferry terminal with plenty of time to spare. Good thing as there was some sort of delay at all of the ticket booths. After waiting at least 5-10 minutes, we managed to buy a ticket for the next sailing and still had time to drop by the Good Karma Kitchen for a pre-boarding snack.
A word of caution: If you should ever find yourself in need of a wee something whilst waiting for the ferry at Horseshoe Bay and you are not able to make the hike into the village for refreshment, do approach the Good Karma Kitchen with a healthy degree of caution. Note to self: DO NOT ORDER THE VEGGIE DOG!!! This warning comes too late for Penny, alas, and she was presented with a white hot dog bun that felt warm but looked suspiciously unheated. Further, the "dog" was the customary length but eight-sided as if it had just been extracted from a tight-fitting package. It, too, did not appear to be heated in any way. The colour was a most unappetizing puce. The only condiments on offer were a somewhat crusty French's mustard, green onions, and ketchup. I opted for the cinnamon bun, but since I later read the list of ingredients NOT in said confection (boxes of the cinnamon buns were stacked next to the order window) "cinnamon" might well have been the only thing I actually consumed. There was, apparently, no dairy, no eggs, no sugar, no wheat, no nuts, no raisins. At least it filled the void somewhat more agreeably than a puce veggie dog with crusty French's mustard might.
Hit the sheets within 15 minutes of arriving home.
Slept most of Friday and until very late Saturday morning. Also slept in on Sunday. Started feeling like "myself" on Monday afternoon.
Can't wait for the diarrhea to set in!!! Oh, wait. Yes I can!!
Wednesday began with a float plane ride from Sechelt to downtown Vancouver (Coal Harbour). Phil gave me a couple of tickets before he left, and this was my first chance to use one. Picked a beautiful day for my first ever float plane experience. Only thing that would have made it better would have been the chance to sit up front in the co-pilot's seat, but a rather burly businessman beat me to it. At least I had the back seat to myself so could enjoy the view out of windows on both sides.
 |
| Float plane dock at Porpoise Bay just prior to take off. |
 |
| Sechelt from the air. My house is hiding somewhere just beyond that long string of houses in the background. |
 |
| Coming in over Stanley Park. |
 | |||
| Vancouver seconds before we touched down. |
Little did I know that more excitement was to come once I got to the Cancer Agency lab. Had to give yet another vial or two of blood so the study group could record the various levels just prior to my receiving the chemo drug.
Things were progressing normally enough until the lab tech called my name. That's when the man sitting next to me (he had been there for about 10 mins) touched my arm. It was Jim Toy, principal of False Creek Design Group and former president of the Interior Designers Institute of BC, and someone who I knew quite well in my former life as a architecture/design writer. Jim has had his own cancer battle, and now his mom is also going through it - she was the reason they were at the Cancer Agency. Jim and I spoke briefly before I went in to have my blood drawn. I sat a bit longer in the chair than most following the procedure as I have to press on the puncture site for a while due to slow clotting time (thanks, Dalteparin). When I was finished, I stepped back into the waiting room to talk to Jim and his mom a bit before they, too, met with the morning's vampires. The conversation was cut short, however, when Jim suddenly noticed that the right sleeve of my white linen blouse was rapidly becoming more wet red than dry white. Back in to see the lab tech for a quick clean-up and clean dressing. Made sure things clotted better the second time as I kept pressing the puncture site the whole time Jim and I talked (about another 10 min). In the meantime, his mother opted to go to the treatment room by herself so Jim and I could continue our conversation. When she re-joined us, she insisted on holding her puncture site for at least 10 more minutes. "I don't want to look like her," she told Jim in Chinese! I replied that she need not worry as she already had on a red t-shirt. We all laughed at that. Left the building together as I made my way to the Fairmont Building to see my oncologist at the day clinic.
My oncologist was off on a much-deserved holiday so I had a locum, a woman I had met at least once before. She spoke very fast and I had a bit of trouble following some of what she said. But she wore beautiful blue shoes, so I forgave her. In addition to confirming that I would be getting the study drug, the locum also went over the results of last week's pre-chemo/baseline tests. Seems my back/hip issues are caused by an abnormality in the sacrum (large, triangular bone at the base of the spine and at the upper and back part of the pelvic cavity, where it is inserted like a wedge between the two hip bones). The abnormality showed up on the bone scan, but only a biopsy will confirm whether it is arthritis, osteoporosis, or metastatic cancer. The locum suggested (as did my oncologist) that there might be some benefit from a course of radiation at the site in question as well as the area of my shoulder/neck that is also proving problematic. If that course of treatment was given, there would be a delay in the start of my participation in the drug study. Soooo, I suggested we go ahead with the drug study and, if the back/hip and/or shoulder/neck pain gets worse apply the radiation treatment then. The locum agreed that was the best course of action. So that's what we're doing.
Other than the sacrum issue, not much else was new re the bone scan. The CT scan should some progression of the disease in some areas, but stability or regression in others. On balance, however, everything shows some spread so back on treatment I am.
After the locum (and that day's student - there's a different one every visit) finished poking and prodding and going over the various test results and letting me know how the study would go, I met with the study nurse who went over the study protocol and procedures one more time for good measure. The study nurse reminded me that I could obtain copies of any of my oncology reports or tests results by asking at the release of information office at the cancer agency. I'll do that tomorrow. I'll also drop off the prescription I was given for Imodium at the agency's in-house pharmacy en route to treatment tomorrow (yes, I know Imodium is an over-the-counter medication, but the 'script enables me to have it for free and also enables the study team to count the number of doses I took should I have messed up my record-keeping in some way). I was then released for the day.
Had a very nice dinner with Donna and our friends Karen and Fang (pronounced Fong - she happens to be a microbiologist at the cancer research centre).
On Thursday I reported to the Cancer Agency at 10:30am for my first dose of NKTR-102. Unfortunately, the pharmacy only didn't see the note that indicated my latex allergy until after the drug was prepped for the IV. Turns out the plug in the IV bag was made of latex and there was concern that it might contaminate the drug and, thereby, affect me. So I spent the better part of two hours doing crossword puzzles, reading, and listening to my iPod while the pharmacists scrambled to get the thing sorted out. When it arrived, it was in a brown plastic bag - turns out the drug is somewhat light sensitive. The plastic bag acted as a shroud that hung over the IV bag while the drug was being administered.
The nurse at the chemo day unit told me to let her know if I experienced any of the following while receiving the drug: sweating, watery eyes, runny nose, excess saliva in the mouth. I had none of that, but I did have a headache. Was told that wasn't a noted side effect, but she marked it down just the same. The next 90 minutes passed without incident as the NKTR-102 dripped into my veins.
After saying toodly-doo to the chemo day unit, I rode to Granville Island via taxi. Didn't want to take public transit and/or walk in case there was a sudden side effect onset. Spent time at the studio with Roz, Penny and Barbara before Barbara left for the day and Penny rushed off to an evening event. Roz and I hung out, slurped gelato at the back of the market while watching the boats float by in rhythm to a busker strumming a Spanish guitar. We then dropped by Chapters so Roz could buy a book for Jon's birthday present.
When I first arrived at the studio, Roz noted that I looked a tad "spacey". Nothing specific, but just kinda out of it. I admitted to feeling a bit off, but couldn't say what didn't feel quite right. However, when I started looking at the books on the shelves at Chapters, my vision became noticeably blurred. In fact, it felt like my left eye was moving back and forth very quickly while my right eye was going up and down at a similar speed. Had Roz check my eyes. She detected no movement and reported that the pupils weren't dilated or anything. All appeared normal to her (she's an RN, so a good one to consult re such matters). She concluded that it was something operating at the nerve level. Since I was still able to manoeuvre normally and felt no pain or discomfort other than the blurred vision - which I knew to be a potential side effect of the chemo - I thought it best to see if matters got any worse before seeking emergency assistance. In fact, the sensation gradually lessened as the evening wore on.
Off for home then. Roz was driving Penny's car, which is a wee Suzuki and much smaller than her usual ride which is a Lexus SUV. Leg room was at a premium. Not only because I was sitting in the seat behind her, but because a bamboo ladder was hovering over the emergency break and stick shift at about elbow height. It was impossible to move the ladder to a more convenient spot because the entire - and I do mean entire - car aside from where we were sitting was stuffed to the gunnels with all things fibre as Roz and Penny were transporting their wares to the Sunshine Coast where they would be offered up at the annual Hackett Park Craft Show/Sale. I could barely see out the front window from my vantage point, but somehow managed to direct Roz from Broadway and Granville to Burrard and Davie where we were to rendezvous with Penny. Of course, B&D just happened to be the busiest intersection in the entire Lower Mainland at the time of day, and it took five light changes before we could make the turn off Burrard onto Davie. The delay at the intersection cut deeply into our narrow time allotment, so the drive to the ferry was something akin to a qualifying heat for a NASCAR race.
We arrived at the ferry terminal with plenty of time to spare. Good thing as there was some sort of delay at all of the ticket booths. After waiting at least 5-10 minutes, we managed to buy a ticket for the next sailing and still had time to drop by the Good Karma Kitchen for a pre-boarding snack.
A word of caution: If you should ever find yourself in need of a wee something whilst waiting for the ferry at Horseshoe Bay and you are not able to make the hike into the village for refreshment, do approach the Good Karma Kitchen with a healthy degree of caution. Note to self: DO NOT ORDER THE VEGGIE DOG!!! This warning comes too late for Penny, alas, and she was presented with a white hot dog bun that felt warm but looked suspiciously unheated. Further, the "dog" was the customary length but eight-sided as if it had just been extracted from a tight-fitting package. It, too, did not appear to be heated in any way. The colour was a most unappetizing puce. The only condiments on offer were a somewhat crusty French's mustard, green onions, and ketchup. I opted for the cinnamon bun, but since I later read the list of ingredients NOT in said confection (boxes of the cinnamon buns were stacked next to the order window) "cinnamon" might well have been the only thing I actually consumed. There was, apparently, no dairy, no eggs, no sugar, no wheat, no nuts, no raisins. At least it filled the void somewhat more agreeably than a puce veggie dog with crusty French's mustard might.
Hit the sheets within 15 minutes of arriving home.
Slept most of Friday and until very late Saturday morning. Also slept in on Sunday. Started feeling like "myself" on Monday afternoon.
Can't wait for the diarrhea to set in!!! Oh, wait. Yes I can!!
Sweet Nectar
In this case, it's actually spelt nktr as in NKTR-102. That's the name of the trial drug I am currently taking. The name comes from the sponsor's name: Nektar Therapeutics in San Francisco. The study itself goes by the moniker BEACON (BrEAst Cancer Outcomes with NKTR-102). This is a Phase 3 open-label, randomized, multi-center study of NKTR-102 versus treatment of physician's choice (in my case it would have been paclitaxel) in patients with locally recurrent or metastatic breast cancer previously treated with an anthracycline, a taxane, and capecitabine.
NKTR-102 slowly releases a chemotherapy drug called irinotecan into the body, thereby allowing it to stay in the body much longer. NKTR-102 was designed to eliminate some fo the side effects of irinotecan while improving its efficiency through modifying the distribution of the agent within the body. The study will look at how my cancer responds to the study treatment and how long people treated with this drug survive. It will also examine the side effects of the study drug and see how long it stays in my blood. About 840 women from up to 25 countries, ages 18 and older, with advanced breast cancer are expected to be in this study.
I will receive NKTR-102 on Day 1 of each cycle. One cycle is 3 weeks, or 21 days, long. The drug will be given intravenously over a 90-minute period. The day before each cycle starts, I will have blood tests and see my oncologist. All this will be done at the BC Cancer Agency in Vancouver. I'll also have a CT scan every 8 weeks - this helps monitor disease progression/regression.
Although the study is slated to complete in 38 months, I will continue to receive the study drug as long as it is helping stabilize my cancer, the side effects are acceptable, and I wish to continue even after the study has ended.
The most commonly reported side effects during other research studies of NKTR-102 include: diarrhea, nausea/vomiting, fatigue,decreased appetite, low red and/or white blood cells, hair loss, and blurred vision. If any of these side effects - or any others listed or not listed - become unbearable, I have the right to withdraw from the study even if subsequent CT scans and other tests prove that it is having the desired effect. Quality of life continue to be paramount.
So, there you have it. That's what I'll be doing for the foreseeable future.
Aside from temporary vision changes, common (for me) fatigue, and slightly decreased appetite, I'm fairing pretty well so far. Of course, most side effects tend to be cumulative, in my experience. I read somewhere in the literature that diarrhea is most noticeable after two or three cycles so suspect more drama in the future. As for the hair loss thing, no biggie in my view. Once again I'll save a bundle on grooming costs! And with winter coming on, I'll have more excuse to wear some stunning toppers. Heck, even found a pattern for a hat that looks like knitted hair. Should I be a blonde? red-head? or go all out with a Gaga pink number? Hmmmm.
NKTR-102 slowly releases a chemotherapy drug called irinotecan into the body, thereby allowing it to stay in the body much longer. NKTR-102 was designed to eliminate some fo the side effects of irinotecan while improving its efficiency through modifying the distribution of the agent within the body. The study will look at how my cancer responds to the study treatment and how long people treated with this drug survive. It will also examine the side effects of the study drug and see how long it stays in my blood. About 840 women from up to 25 countries, ages 18 and older, with advanced breast cancer are expected to be in this study.
I will receive NKTR-102 on Day 1 of each cycle. One cycle is 3 weeks, or 21 days, long. The drug will be given intravenously over a 90-minute period. The day before each cycle starts, I will have blood tests and see my oncologist. All this will be done at the BC Cancer Agency in Vancouver. I'll also have a CT scan every 8 weeks - this helps monitor disease progression/regression.
Although the study is slated to complete in 38 months, I will continue to receive the study drug as long as it is helping stabilize my cancer, the side effects are acceptable, and I wish to continue even after the study has ended.
The most commonly reported side effects during other research studies of NKTR-102 include: diarrhea, nausea/vomiting, fatigue,decreased appetite, low red and/or white blood cells, hair loss, and blurred vision. If any of these side effects - or any others listed or not listed - become unbearable, I have the right to withdraw from the study even if subsequent CT scans and other tests prove that it is having the desired effect. Quality of life continue to be paramount.
So, there you have it. That's what I'll be doing for the foreseeable future.
Aside from temporary vision changes, common (for me) fatigue, and slightly decreased appetite, I'm fairing pretty well so far. Of course, most side effects tend to be cumulative, in my experience. I read somewhere in the literature that diarrhea is most noticeable after two or three cycles so suspect more drama in the future. As for the hair loss thing, no biggie in my view. Once again I'll save a bundle on grooming costs! And with winter coming on, I'll have more excuse to wear some stunning toppers. Heck, even found a pattern for a hat that looks like knitted hair. Should I be a blonde? red-head? or go all out with a Gaga pink number? Hmmmm.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Guinea Pig Diaries
Title of this post could be a new name for the blog. Yup, I'm being given the trial drug. Too tired to give details now. No bad side effects yet but suspect they will appear soon enough. Many thanks to Donna, Roz, and Penny for support and potential medical assistance before I made it safely back home. Back to bed now. Will write more later.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Study prep
Spent a couple of days this past week in Vancouver undergoing a series of tests - CT scan, bone scan, various blood tests - in prep for the drug trial I'm slated to join. Test results will be available when I go back in this coming week.
Had a very cool experience when undergoing the bone scan at VGH. The scan was given on a new piece of equipment that can perform a number of different tests without having the patient move off the machine let alone to another room. First I had the bone scan: I lay flat on the bed portion of the machine. The machine slowly passed over my body, taking photos every 30 seconds or so. Since I have been having trouble with my right hip/pelvis/upper leg area, the tech then performed another scan. I didn't move from my previous position other than to raise my arms over my head (for the bone scan arms are at my sides). For this procedure, the machine moved in a arch across my body while I laid still on the bed. Then, again due to the area of concern, I was given a CT scan of the pelvic region (the CT scan I had the day before at the Cancer Agency focuses on my chest and abdomen, and didn't include the pelvic region at all). Only discomfort came from having my arms over my head for the duration of the pelvic scan and the CT scan. Oh yes, and my lower back complained bitterly when I had a coughing fit after first laying down.
Had an odd phone call yesterday. The study nurse asked me to go to St Mary's for another blood test. This after giving up at least 10 viles of blood over the course of two day in Vancouver! Seems one of the samples underwent some sort of agglutination (my but I'm learning a lot of new words!) prior to undergoing whatever test needed to be performed. So off to St Mary's for another blood test today.
Is it any wonder my right inner arm is a tad sore and bruised? Too bad lack of lymph nodes makes my left arm unusable for blood tests, blood pressure readings, injections or IVs of any kind ...
Had a very cool experience when undergoing the bone scan at VGH. The scan was given on a new piece of equipment that can perform a number of different tests without having the patient move off the machine let alone to another room. First I had the bone scan: I lay flat on the bed portion of the machine. The machine slowly passed over my body, taking photos every 30 seconds or so. Since I have been having trouble with my right hip/pelvis/upper leg area, the tech then performed another scan. I didn't move from my previous position other than to raise my arms over my head (for the bone scan arms are at my sides). For this procedure, the machine moved in a arch across my body while I laid still on the bed. Then, again due to the area of concern, I was given a CT scan of the pelvic region (the CT scan I had the day before at the Cancer Agency focuses on my chest and abdomen, and didn't include the pelvic region at all). Only discomfort came from having my arms over my head for the duration of the pelvic scan and the CT scan. Oh yes, and my lower back complained bitterly when I had a coughing fit after first laying down.
Had an odd phone call yesterday. The study nurse asked me to go to St Mary's for another blood test. This after giving up at least 10 viles of blood over the course of two day in Vancouver! Seems one of the samples underwent some sort of agglutination (my but I'm learning a lot of new words!) prior to undergoing whatever test needed to be performed. So off to St Mary's for another blood test today.
Is it any wonder my right inner arm is a tad sore and bruised? Too bad lack of lymph nodes makes my left arm unusable for blood tests, blood pressure readings, injections or IVs of any kind ...
Fabulous Fibre - with photos
Finally got around to photographing some of the stuff I produced during the short course I took at Cap U. Before I do the show-and-tell thing, I would like to say a few things about how the course altered the way I view textiles in general (more "shake me up, Judy stuff"). Remember, I haven't altered much cloth before so seemed to have a number of "ah ha" moments as things went along. Am sure some of my fibre friends will understand what I mean.
When I first learned to weave back in the days before the Earth cooled, I would find myself deconstructing the weave structure of the jacket worn by the man in front of me in the post office queue or the colour sequence of the fabric on the chairs in a restaurant. Now every shape is morphing into negative as well as positive form. Every textile is imagined in another context - as a stamp, screened image, or rubbing on cloth. I wonder about the dye recipe required to reproduce a colour that draws my attention. And I try to imagine the interplay of various patterns, textures and colours in new ways. In other words, I'm trying to push my creative side beyond its comfort zone. Perhaps that's why little of what I've created in the class really appeals. Have yet to produce much that inspires me to reproduce it as yardage let alone a garment or other finished item. That said, I've had a lot of fun throwing dye and paint around while exploring some new-to-me techniques.
Since the course ended, it seems my mind has been working overtime. Have plans to try working with various medical images (using my own CT scans, bone scans, etc) as well as general cancer-related stuff. But NOT that stupid it's-all-about-business-and-not-about-raising-money-for-research-or-otherwise-helping-those-who-need-help ubiquitous ribbon!!!! (So, Janet, tell me how you honestly feel about the Pink Ribbon Campaign.) Have some technical difficulties to overcome, but that might also push me to explore less obvious means of producing what my brain seems bent on creating. Stay tuned for further developments.
In the meantime, here are images of some of the cloth produced while at Cap U:
Above are some of the sample swatches made using stamps I made. The bottom ones were produced by gluing thin cork sheeting to blocks of wood. The basic stamp design is best seen at bottom right. I wasn't very keen on the larger block, especially when I rotated it as at bottom left - looks too much like an ethnic print from a culture that is not my own. Much prefer the smaller block at the bottom of each of the two lower swatches. Of all the blocks I made, I was happiest with the one used for the two upper swatches. Due to the fact that the lines weren't drawn to produce a bulls-eye, the resulting images often incorporated intersecting and overlapping lines that could be used as water, rain, maze, or labyrinth motifs, among other things. However, given the stamp (which was carved from a rubber-based block that is essentially an oversized eraser - much easier to carve than lino) is only two inches by three inches and about half an inch deep, it was awkward to hold and print without adding fingerprints to the design. And would take more time than I was willing to put into the effort to produce yardage.
My solution to the two latter issues was to make a larger version of the lined stamp. Unfortunately, I didn't draw the lines exactly as in the smaller version and the effect wasn't quite as nice. I did, however, enjoy playing with various fruit and veg as stamps.
This sample was a tad difficult to photograph. It's the result of mopping up G&S's pigment system process blue, yellow and magenta medium that I splattered on the plastic sheet that protected the work table. Like the interplay of colours as well as the range of colour shifts where more than one process colour hits the cloth.
This cloth started with a more saturated application of the G&S colours. Unlike the previous samples, this one is done on 100% linen. LOVE how the texture of the fabric works with the colour and the white pigment that was subsequently stamped over the colourful base. This stamp was produced by wrapping very hairy string around a block of styrofoam. The almost-square bits are where the styrofoam occasionally touched the cloth. What I like most about this piece is how the hairs on the string add to the randomness of the pattern.
Next up, screen printing. Years ago I did a bit of screen printing on paper and really enjoyed the process. Not sure why I didn't keep at it. In any case, here the screen was used to produce stand-alone images as well as layered images on some of the cloth that was previously printed and/or dyed. This is the image I used just after I drew it on the silk prior to adding the emulsion. The 8x10 inch screen didn't leave a lot of room for the squeegee, so I ended up using a wide plastic putty knife. This proved a bit of a problem re getting even pressure when pulling the ink over the image. Having so many little and fine lines didn't help. A good learning experience all 'round. (FYI, the decision to draw a crab came from the fact that the background cloth I was going to print on reminded me of water. It has absolutely not a reference to my medical condition. Confess I didn't even think about that until the instructor got teary-eyed after seeing what I drew. That said, I may use it as a cancer reference sometime in the future.)
I used this sample to create a montage of the various images and techniques I was experimenting with throughout the course. The background was made using that larger rubber stamped with curved lines, while the smaller cork stamp was used to make the "seaweed" near the crabs. The crabs were silk screened. I was disappointed with the result of stippling pigment directly onto the cloth using the tip of a stencil brush (lower right corner) but think a bit of machine embroidery will help it look more like coral than it does at present. The fish was created by painting freehand directly onto the cloth using several colours. The thought was to free-motion machine embroider over that area, highlighting the painted lines. Here are some detail shots of the cloth:
Really liked the way the background colour and stamp looked on that saturated piece of linen above, so wanted to trying messing about with a larger piece using the silk screen technique. Started off with a remnant of cloth that I bought at IKEA to use as the reverse side of my duvet cover. The fabric came in a pre-cut length. The background was a lovely natural grey-brown and the white spots were printed/painted on at the manufacturer's. The irregular edge of the irregular-sized white spots seemed to call out for use in a fibre project of some sort. The spots reminded me somewhat of the moon, so here's what I did:
No doubt it sounds a bit odd, given what I said above re the crab image and the fact that I'm a Pisces to boot, but actually gave this cloth a name (the only cloth given a name of any sort): Cancer Rising. As in the constellation Cancer - remember what I said about the spots reminding me of the moon? Plan to hand embroider the constellation over the piece. Here's a close-up of the printing (yes it's blurry and the cloth needs ironing):
That's all I've done so far. Hope whatever drug the study throws my way doesn't upset my hands too much so I can do some more work on these as well as other pieces that are currently taking up so much brain space.
On another fibre note, I whipped up a couple of knitted garlic bulbs for Jon to take to the Garlic Festival in Pender Harbour tomorrow. Just something fun to add to all that edible stuff.
When I first learned to weave back in the days before the Earth cooled, I would find myself deconstructing the weave structure of the jacket worn by the man in front of me in the post office queue or the colour sequence of the fabric on the chairs in a restaurant. Now every shape is morphing into negative as well as positive form. Every textile is imagined in another context - as a stamp, screened image, or rubbing on cloth. I wonder about the dye recipe required to reproduce a colour that draws my attention. And I try to imagine the interplay of various patterns, textures and colours in new ways. In other words, I'm trying to push my creative side beyond its comfort zone. Perhaps that's why little of what I've created in the class really appeals. Have yet to produce much that inspires me to reproduce it as yardage let alone a garment or other finished item. That said, I've had a lot of fun throwing dye and paint around while exploring some new-to-me techniques.
Since the course ended, it seems my mind has been working overtime. Have plans to try working with various medical images (using my own CT scans, bone scans, etc) as well as general cancer-related stuff. But NOT that stupid it's-all-about-business-and-not-about-raising-money-for-research-or-otherwise-helping-those-who-need-help ubiquitous ribbon!!!! (So, Janet, tell me how you honestly feel about the Pink Ribbon Campaign.) Have some technical difficulties to overcome, but that might also push me to explore less obvious means of producing what my brain seems bent on creating. Stay tuned for further developments.
In the meantime, here are images of some of the cloth produced while at Cap U:
On another fibre note, I whipped up a couple of knitted garlic bulbs for Jon to take to the Garlic Festival in Pender Harbour tomorrow. Just something fun to add to all that edible stuff.
 |
| Dang focus! Card reads "HMO* Garlic. High fibre content. *handmade object, 100% wood, poly stuffing" |
Last Olympic Post
Am getting an idea re how hard athletes train for the Olympics.
This week Google has been posting interactive doodles (those nifty graphics you see that make up the word "Google" when you first login to make a search) around various sports themes. Depending on the doodle, you either use the forward and backward arrow keys, the space bar, or both. I totally suck at this! Guess I just can't move my digits fast enough. Have never made it to the three-star level. Ever. Obtained two stars in hurdles and in soccer - after several attempts (some games are a bit hard to figure out at first, at least for non-gamer me). Produced rather large cracks on the front of the kayak during the obstacle course, and left the athletes looking more than a bit dejected on several occasions, e.g. when the runner knocked down every huddle. In any case, it was a lot of fun playing these games. And it clearly brought out my more competitive side.
This week Google has been posting interactive doodles (those nifty graphics you see that make up the word "Google" when you first login to make a search) around various sports themes. Depending on the doodle, you either use the forward and backward arrow keys, the space bar, or both. I totally suck at this! Guess I just can't move my digits fast enough. Have never made it to the three-star level. Ever. Obtained two stars in hurdles and in soccer - after several attempts (some games are a bit hard to figure out at first, at least for non-gamer me). Produced rather large cracks on the front of the kayak during the obstacle course, and left the athletes looking more than a bit dejected on several occasions, e.g. when the runner knocked down every huddle. In any case, it was a lot of fun playing these games. And it clearly brought out my more competitive side.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
being a guinea pig ...
just might include the chance at an Olympic medal! Check out this newspaper article about some of the competition. Yup, Ian Miller and other champions of the past have much to worry about ...
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2177688/London-2012-Olympics-Company-designs-Guinea-Pig-Olympics-calendar.html
Of course, I could also be a super hero solving major crimes such as, um, lettuce theft:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2177688/London-2012-Olympics-Company-designs-Guinea-Pig-Olympics-calendar.html
Of course, I could also be a super hero solving major crimes such as, um, lettuce theft:
Random Thoughts
Well, the Cancer Agency doesn't waste any time! Have my treatment schedule for August now, and it looks like things will be rather busy for the next couple of weeks.
On Aug 7 I report to the Agency for "baseline" blood work followed by a "baseline" CT scan. This will help the study team determine if I am, in fact, able to be on the drug trial mentioned in the last posting. Given my current lower back and hip issues, a bone scan may also be in the offing.
The following week, once all those test results are back, I'll be randomized into either the trial drug group or the control group - assuming I meet all the study criteria.
On Aug 15, I will begin Day 1 of the first treatment cycle. This means more blood work and a follow-up meeting with the oncologist. At that time, the dosage of whatever drug I'll be taking will be determined. The first dose will be administered the following day.
All of this will take place in Vancouver. Treatment is scheduled for every three weeks (no matter which drug I'll be taking). Ongoing testing and regular progress meetings will also be done at the Cancer Agency in town.
Fingers crossed I get the trial drug. It will be my first exposure to an investigative medication - I've always been in the control group. Perhaps I will get a guinea pig-style haircut to celebrate. Question: Which style best says "me"?
On Aug 7 I report to the Agency for "baseline" blood work followed by a "baseline" CT scan. This will help the study team determine if I am, in fact, able to be on the drug trial mentioned in the last posting. Given my current lower back and hip issues, a bone scan may also be in the offing.
The following week, once all those test results are back, I'll be randomized into either the trial drug group or the control group - assuming I meet all the study criteria.
On Aug 15, I will begin Day 1 of the first treatment cycle. This means more blood work and a follow-up meeting with the oncologist. At that time, the dosage of whatever drug I'll be taking will be determined. The first dose will be administered the following day.
All of this will take place in Vancouver. Treatment is scheduled for every three weeks (no matter which drug I'll be taking). Ongoing testing and regular progress meetings will also be done at the Cancer Agency in town.
Fingers crossed I get the trial drug. It will be my first exposure to an investigative medication - I've always been in the control group. Perhaps I will get a guinea pig-style haircut to celebrate. Question: Which style best says "me"?
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