[2021-03-05] Results, side effects and growth

It's Friday, which means another set of blood tests. Most of my results are similar to those of last week.
  • My CA125 (a cancer marker) remains at 8 for the fourth week. This is the first result I check if I have multiple results to view.
  • My neutrophils (a type of white blood cell) remain at 2.6 for the second week, safely within the normal range of 2.0 to 7.5.
  • My white blood cell count is slightly lower this week (3.7) compared to last week (3.8) but still within the normal range of 3.5 to 10.5.
  • My level of lymphocytes (a type of white blood cell) is low at 0.6, but that appears to be the norm for me, with my results consistently hovering around the low end of the normal range, which is 0.8 to 3.3.
  • My hematocrit level (a measure of the proportion of red blood cells in my blood) is 0.346, which is low for the third time in four weeks. The normal range is 0.380 to 0.500.
  • My mean corpuscular volume, a measure of the size of my red blood cells, is slightly high at 102.1, but lower than last week at 104.1; the normal range is 80.0 to 100.0.
  • Only one result surprised me: my red blood cell count. It's at 3.39, below the normal range of 3.5 to 5.0. This is the first time it's been low since August, before I started chemotherapy. Low white and blood cell counts are common side effects of Lynparza, the tumour-suppressing drug I started three weeks ago today.
Though I'm not a healthcare professional and don't really know how to interpret these results, I still prefer to receive them as soon as they are available. My next oncology appointment is this coming Tuesday. That will give me an opportunity to verify with my oncologist whether my blood test results present any cause for concern.

I like to keep track of side effects of treatment, as I have a tendency to forget them.

Today, I read up on chemotherapy-induced peripheral neuropathy (CIPN). That sounds daunting, but—simply put—CIPN is nerve damage in the hands and feet caused by chemotherapy. As per the American Cancer Society, "CIPN can cause severe pain and can affect your ability to do things like walk, write, button your shirt, or pick up coins. CIPN can last for weeks, months, or even years after treatment is done." Thankfully, my experience is nowhere near as severe as this description. I have a sore left thumb, tingling in the tip of my right thumb as well as pain in my right foot, on the outer side and in the heel, when I start walking. The discomfort in my foot subsides as I get warmed up, so it hasn't prevented me from getting out for walks, which I try to do every day. Though the pain in my hands and feet is a little bothersome, I would not say that it's affecting my quality of life. I expect that it will subside over time.

Nausea caused by my new medication persists, though it's intermittent throughout the day. It helps to keep a little something in my stomach at all times, for example, by eating a piece of fruit or a few crackers between meals. If the nausea is vexing enough, I take the anti-nausea medication that was prescribed for me during chemotherapy.

Perhaps the most exciting thing to share is that my hair is beginning to regrow. My head feels like a fuzzy peach. I have what look like black smudges where my eyebrows belong. My eyelashes are returning, which means that my eyelids no longer stick together when I squeeze my eyes—sticky eyes is a thing when you have no eyelashes.

Today, I read an article offering wisdom from 30 cancer survivors. Sally Morgan stated that if she had to do it again, she would choose cancer. She noted, "Facing cancer forces you to look inward, ask yourself hard questions about life, death, purpose, and gratitude, and it enables a new depth and understanding of how to live life from your heart, following your soul’s purpose."

Though I would not choose cancer if I had the choice, given all the side effects of treatment and potential impact on my longevity, I do agree with Morgan that having cancer leads to healthy introspection. Like other cancer survivors quoted in the article, I feel more focused on the present, more grounded in what's important, and more grateful for all the love and beauty in my life, including my fuzzy head.