Words and Definitions

So, the week is over. I saw the Professor this morning and the news is not good. The cancer markers are rising. The body was right. The Exemestane is not working anymore. He is now putting me on a new drug, called Everolimus. What kind of name is that? I wonder who dreams up these drug names.  Of all the medications I've had to take over the years, this is the strangest name, for sure. There must be a good story behind it.

Everolimus is a fairly new drug. It inhibits cancer cell growth and I think it's still in clinical trials for various uses, such as tissue rejection in organ transplants and, like yours truly, for metastatic breast cancer in post-menopausal women who have already been treated with other drugs. It's so new that the Prof had to get special permission to prescribe it. The reason being, I later discovered, is because the market price is $5000 for a month supply. With the permission I pay only $6. Thank you Australian Medicare.

I've pretty much stopped looking things up on the web, except drug reactions. So, after I got home, I got into it straight away. The literature talks about using this drug as an adjuvant with Exemestane. I don't recall the Prof telling me to continue taking the Exemestane, so the first doubt is planted in my mind. Now, I joked in my last missive that 'I pick up the phone and call the doctor. He is away this week.' But this week is a different matter. He really is on the plane to London as I write this. What to do? I know, I know. Stop looking things up on the net.

But things CAN be useful on the net. I completely freaked yesterday when I overheard the Prof describing my condition as 'Stage 4' when he was getting the authorisation for prescribing the Everolimus. STAGE 4, screamed my head and I already saw my son weeping next to my grave. So, as soon as he put down the phone, I pounced on the poor Prof. 'You mean I now have Stage 4 cancer?'  He had a good laugh at that. 'You have had Stage 4 for a long time, and we'll make sure you are going to have Stage 4 for a very long time to come.'

WOW! My mind was reeling. I was very upset. Luckily I am now in the habit of seeing my cancer counsellor a few hours after my appointment with the Prof, and she assured me that she sees many people who live happy and productive lives for years with Stage 4. Phew, OK. She assigns me homework, to write a dialogue in my blog reassuring my body that I will take care of it. Well, I am not sure I am ready for that yet, so that will have to wait for another blog.

First thing this morning, I gravitated towards my laptop to check out Everolimus again on the net. I am glad I did. One important fact finally sank in: nowadays Stage 4 is not generally called that, it's described as Advanced Breast Cancer.  Well, of course! I have had advanced breast cancer for almost two years now. What's the big deal?

Isn't it strange how words and classifications changes the way we think?  I mean I have had advanced breast cancer for years and I knew that, in my case, I could look forward to years of ups and downs, with good quality life in between, until it's my time to kick the bucket. But not yet!  So, why am I suddenly terrified when I hear the words Stage 4?  It's the same package in a different wrapping. Being a writer, I am a stickler for words, so from now on I will only think and say that I have 'advanced breast cancer'. Doesn't sound so bad, does it? I can live with that.