An Update and Baby Steps

Van Gogh - First Steps, after Millet

I had appointments with both my Radiation Oncologist and my Medical Oncologist last week and another round of injections (Faslodex, Xgeva, Lupron).  I don't enjoy the shots, of course, but somehow it feels more comfortable to have recently seen doctors.  I'm still waiting a few more weeks for my  CT and bone scans to see if this Faslodex is doing anything, but it's nice to have doctors check me over and decide there's nothing noticeably bad that they can see.

Of course, as I used to hear a lot when we were discussing different treatment options when I was stage III, I'm very healthy except for the cancer (yep, all except for that).  It was a good thing at the time because the comment was part of the decision making for whether there were additional worries about me going through the surgeries (there weren't and I did well) and being prescribed a nice aggressive chemo plan (it was a go and I made it through), but it always sounded funny to me.

But last week, my Radiation Oncologist told me I didn't need any follow up appointments since my Medical Oncologist is watching me closely and my radiated hip is doing nicely.  It does feel much better and the rectangles of skin that were in the radiation field have gone from dark-and-reddish to less-dark-and-brownish, so that's all good.

My Medical Oncologist was also pleased.  There was no blood work this time and I forgot to ask about my numbers from last time, but if there was something really worrisome she would normally have discussed it.  Nothing seems to be growing in the areas she felt and my lungs and heart are, apparently, sounding as they should.  So it was a nice easy visit--long may those last!

The one thing she did say was that I should try and get more exercise.  She suggested I use a pedometer and try to get in 10,000 steps a day.

Now, as I've mentioned before, I'm pretty much the most goody-two-shoes of all possible goody-two-shoes patients, so when I went home I diligently dug out the free pedometer I'd gotten at that cancer walk we did last October (the one with the weirdly self-conscious-making survivor sash that I guess I was lucky to be able to get while I still felt like a survivor without restriction...) and the count was on.

That first afternoon after the appointment was not to the 10,000 standard.  Part of that was doubtless because my sister-in-law met me at the medical center and we sat for an hour or so in Starbucks eating buttery pastries and drinking syrup laden coffee (well, syrup laden coffee for me anyway, she ordered something else but the pastries were a nice joint effort, and well worth that effort, too).  Not many steps involved at Starbucks, but at least if laughter really is the best medicine we were golden.

But, back to that pedometer (although obviously not as much fun as Starbucks), the next day I wore it to work and home and noticed that my usual day get me about 6500 steps.  I discovered that it turns out the 10,000 step thing is kind of a head fake--sound like something you can just work into your day but, for me at least, it actually requires a bit more strategy and some concerted effort.  I really need to actually take a walk if I'm to have any hope of hitting that.

So each day since then, I've done that.  Intentionally strapped on my running shoes (which I'd bought last fall when I started running again so I guess I can still call them that, even though running with mets in both hips would probably be a spectacularly bad idea) and gone for a walk.  Sometimes with my husband, sometimes with my daughter, and once, while at the beach celebrating my brother's birthday at another sister-in-law's family beach house, for a little while by myself with beautiful ocean views and marsh grasses taller than I am.

I've been surprised at how hard it's been.  I'm finding spending that time with loved ones or just running through thoughts by myself is a treat, but even walking fairly short distances leaves me winded and muscle sore.

To mix things up a bit, I've started logging into my Sparkpeople.com account again and using their chair cardio videos (I may graduate to their low-impact cardio at some point, but for now I think no impact is probably best).  And, yep, 11 minutes of cardio while sitting down also leaves me winded.

Nice.

I've been so careful not to stress the hip mets for so long that it's now difficult to wave my arms and legs around for a few minutes while sitting in a chair.

I guess my oncologist totally pegged it, I need to get more exercise.  I mean I really need to get more exercise.  And by "more", it looks like a starting point of some exercise would totally fit the bill.

So I've been doing it. I've been taking steps and logging my "progress". I know it's a good idea and I'm not in a position to ignore my oncologist's suggestions (I could ignore them, of course, anybody can. But I don't. Because cancer. And also because, come on, it's just walking for goodness sake).  So each day I've been doing that and with the added walks I've been hitting that 10,000 mark.

I spoke to another of my sisters-in-law yesterday (I have 6 of them, and all of them are the kind of people you're glad to be family with, so if it sounds like my world is chock full of sisters-in-law, that's because it is), who had gone from being a complete and total non-runner to training for (and completing) a half-marathon.  She's pretty inspirational and one of the things she told me was, basically, "Look at everything you've already gone through, you can do this, and it will get easier!"

It isn't very flattering to get winded taking a walk, but I'm glad I can (pre-radiation it hurt like heck) and I know my sister-in-law is right, with consistency, my system will adjust and it will get better. I'm proud of and impressed by the people I know who run, and I look back fondly on my own time as a cross-country runner (in college, a couple of decades ago), but for me, for now, I need to look at my walking, my seated cardio, and my growing string of 10,000 step days and also be proud.  Because you have to start somewhere, and it is a start.