Peace out, Lovenox

I hate to sound like a broken record, but I really, really hate Lovenox. For those of you new to my little corner of the internet, Lovenox is a blood thinning injection that I have had to do twice a day for the last three months following a pulmonary embolism which was picked up on my interim PET scan. The injections themselves were often painful, but what has been the most difficult is making the lifestyle adjustment to make sure that I do both injections within twelve hours of each other (or as close to that as possible). Nothing kills the conversation than saying "Brb, my mom/dad/boyfriend have to give me a shot in my stomach, because I'm too much of a baby to do it myself. But hold that thought!"

So, it is with GREAT pleasure to announce that I'm almost done with Lovenox! That's right, folks, if all goes to plan, my last day should be either February 23rd or February 24th!

Before you get too excited, though, there's a catch: I'm still going to be on blood thinners for another three months. However, rather than doing the Lovenox injections, I am starting Warfarin, which is a once-a-day pill.

A PILL!!!!

AS IN NO MORE SHOTS!!!

Even though Warfarin is no walk in the park -- I'll explain more about what the next few months will entail in a moment -- I think just about anything is better than a twice a day injection in the stomach. Finishing chemo was a big milestone for me; in a weird way, this is almost a bigger milestone since these bad boys effected my daily life more than a bi-weekly chemo session with limited side effects (for the most part).

Now, on to the logistics of Warfarin. I took my first pill today, even though I still have a few days left of Lovenox. This is because it can take up to seven days for Warfarin to start doing its job. I have a lab appointment on Monday to see how things are working where they will test my blood for its INR levels. A normal person who is not on anticoagulation should have an INR at around 1. The target INR for someone on Warfarin is somewhere between 2.0 and 4.0. As of today, mine is at 0.97. I'm a little confused by this since I am on anticoagulants so you would think mine would be higher, right? I am not concerned, because before we even got the reading my doctor told me it would take a few days to get to this ideal rate. However, a nagging voice in my head keeps saying if I don't even have "thin blood" after 3 months of injections then WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THE INJECTIONS?!! Alas! I'm sure there is a good medical explanation for this that I just don't know yet. Dr. Jen doesn't know everything, after all.

I'll have to get used to this INR test, since I will likely being doing it once a week for the next month or so to help figure out my exact dosage. This is because INR levels can fluctuate (and when they fluctuate, the dosage must also be adjusted) depending on diet -- specifically Vitamin K intake. Vitamin K? Random, right?

Well, not so random: our bodies use Vitamin K to make blood clotting proteins.
Warfarin works by working against Vitamin K. Luckily, this doesn't mean I have to avoid Vitamin K all together while on Warfarin -- thank god, because I love green smoothies and yuppie salads -- it just means that I have to be very consistent with how much I consume so it corresponds properly with the Warfarin dosage. Translation: if you aren't a fan of green leafy vegetables and eat a diet low in Vitamin K, you wouldn't want to eat a giant spinach salad because that would drastically alter your INR rate. But if you're used to eating that giant spinach salad, it's okay to eat it every day since your body -- and your Warfarin dosage -- are used to it.

Other than that, it's been a relatively uneventful few weeks on the health front. Aside from the usual vein pain directly following chemo and a little more fatigue than usual, I feel great! Today was officially the longest my body has gone without chemo for 6 months, which is a pretty awesome feeling.

I'm also happy to report that my hair has begun to grow back...aka my male pattern baldness is receding (get it? clever, huh?). The texture is a little...off...I sort of look like I got electrocuted or something, but after 6 months of being pretty much bald, any and all hair is welcome! I've even sported just a headband at my yoga classes and let the rest of my thin (but there!) hair see the world (you're welcome, yogis). It is a welcome relief from scarves which just scream CANCER. Luckily, I never lost my eyelashes and eyebrows; they thinned a bit and also lightened in color, but with a little makeup they look pretty much normal.

Speaking of normal, or healthy, I had an interesting eye appointment last week. I have a light distance prescription and decided to go in to see if anything has changed, since driving, which I never did in NYC, has seemed to highlight some of my deficiencies on the visual front. In addition to checking my vision capabilities, the optometrist also did some other tests to determine my overall eye health.

"Everything looks good! You've got very healthy eyes!" he said.

"What all did you test for you?" I asked anxiously.

He rattled off a list of things I had never heard of, and finished up by saying, "So, in a nutshell you really don't need to worry. You're young and very healthy!"

It was a really surreal feeling to be told "you're young and healthy" after who knows how long -- there really isn't a way to know how long I had The Hodge before being diagnosed -- I was not healthy. Part of me wanted to bow at his feet and say thank you, thank you, thank you, but I thought that might be a little weird. So instead I just said "thanks" and was on my merry way.

After 26 years of being told I was healthy by doctors, and then a six months stint of being a cancer patient, it sure feels good to go back to normal -- though I'm still holding my breath that my March 18th PET scan will come back clean before I get too comfortable being "young and healthy".