So, tomorrow is the first reconstruction surgery. I have to admit, I am a little nervous. More nervous, in fact, than I was for the actual mastectomy. For that, I think, I was in denial, big time. As I told a friend, I was in a fool's paradise, but it was okay because they know me there. Heh.
For all my jitters, though, I am kind of fascinated with the actual surgery. I wonder how they go about the process of reconstructing a breast. I think I'd make a good surgeon. I watch the surgery shows on TV--I mean the real documentaries, not Gray's Anatomy or Mercy or something--and am more fascinated than grossed out by them. One day I was watching Dr. 90210 and they were performing some kind of surgery, which they were showing in graphic detail. I was really mesmerized by it until my mother stopped by the house and said: "Oh, turn that off, that's gross!"
So, rolling up my pant legs and wading in only up to the knees (philosophically speaking)---The anaesthesia they give you before surgery kind of unsettles me. It's not like when you go to sleep and your consciousness is out there somewhere. To me, after the anaesthesia, it's almost like you ceased to be for a time, and that rather freaks me out. I wonder--in my shallow wading--is death like that? A total loss of, well, everything? Huh. I was kind of hoping for more. Of course, I comfort myself with the thought that if this is the case with death I won't know anything about it, so why worry, but still...
Anyway, I will be in touch after the surgery when I can get up and about again. Take care all!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
A Revoltin' Development, False Advertising And An Emotional Good-Bye
Well, last week I got a message from Google saying my Monetize account had been suspended due to "suspicious activity." Monetize, for those who don't know, is the ads that appear in your blog where you are able to make a bit of money from people perusing them. Being me, I admit I did not read the guidelines for this and after re-reading one of my entries, decided I should look at the ads to see if there was anything offered that would help me in my own recovery from breast cancer. I guess that's a big no-no. Apparently Google thought I was trying to pad my earnings and suspended me. Live and Learn I guess, but I was NOT doing anything underhanded, just looking at what was advertised, and I feel like a bit like I've been slapped in the face. Oh well, my bad. We move on from here. Grumble, grumble.
On a happier note, a friend and I were recently talking about dating. I laughed and told her right now was probably not a good time to look for a new relationship. My upholstery is, in effect, false advertising, and I don't want to have to explain. "Uh--heh--sorry, but I have a flat tire," or "I had an unfortunate blow-out that prevents me from getting close to anyone." Yeah, right.
I told my friend Linda that while 95% of the time I'm fine with how my mastectomy looks, occasionally, when I'm feeling a little vulnerable, I look at it in the mirror after my morning shower and feel like I look like something from the Island of Misfit Toys. Linda, who had diverticulitus and has had several surgeries, nodded sagely and said: "Yep, dented can syndrome." We learn to live with it, I guess.
April 29, eight days from now, I go in for my first reconstructive surgery. I am looking forward to the improvement in appearance, but nervous about the actual surgery. I keep telling myself I just gotta push through it. Jitters.
In the midst of dealing with cancer and my mastectomy, I had to say good-bye to the house that has been the family homestead for my entire life. I walked through it for the last time about a week ago, and found all the memories of my growing up there overwhelming and started to cry. In fact, if I let myself think about it now I get choked up. Very sad.
Some positive things (and I remind myself there are many): It is spring in Illinois and with the warm weather everything has bloomed. Just beautiful! I love it. The black and white of Winter has given way to the Technicolor of Spring! The problem is, it's cool in the morning and then gets warm later in the day. I have every jacket I own hanging in the break room at work because it's so warm when I leave I forget I wore one in the first place! If I forget the one I wore today I'm in trouble, because it was the last one in the closet, and it was 40 degrees this morning!
Went to see Daughtry at the Assembly Hall last Sunday (Love him!), and went to see a screening of "Back to the Future" at one of our old theaters, The Virginia. This theater is an old Italianate building that used to be a vaudeville house. My grandfather said he used to go to dances on the roof of this theater when he was in college. The inside is very ornate, but looking a little run-down now. Anyway, fun to see the movie there with a big crowd of people. One of my favorite actors had a movie on the SyFy channel last week, etc.
My supervisor gave us all little gift bags with fun stuff in it for Administrative Assistant's Day, and I have found my new tag line! I got a note pad and at the top it says:
"I see these people who can do everything, and I think I should have them do some stuff for ME."
Love it.
Next up: The reconstructive surgery. Stay Tuned.
On a happier note, a friend and I were recently talking about dating. I laughed and told her right now was probably not a good time to look for a new relationship. My upholstery is, in effect, false advertising, and I don't want to have to explain. "Uh--heh--sorry, but I have a flat tire," or "I had an unfortunate blow-out that prevents me from getting close to anyone." Yeah, right.
I told my friend Linda that while 95% of the time I'm fine with how my mastectomy looks, occasionally, when I'm feeling a little vulnerable, I look at it in the mirror after my morning shower and feel like I look like something from the Island of Misfit Toys. Linda, who had diverticulitus and has had several surgeries, nodded sagely and said: "Yep, dented can syndrome." We learn to live with it, I guess.
April 29, eight days from now, I go in for my first reconstructive surgery. I am looking forward to the improvement in appearance, but nervous about the actual surgery. I keep telling myself I just gotta push through it. Jitters.
In the midst of dealing with cancer and my mastectomy, I had to say good-bye to the house that has been the family homestead for my entire life. I walked through it for the last time about a week ago, and found all the memories of my growing up there overwhelming and started to cry. In fact, if I let myself think about it now I get choked up. Very sad.
Some positive things (and I remind myself there are many): It is spring in Illinois and with the warm weather everything has bloomed. Just beautiful! I love it. The black and white of Winter has given way to the Technicolor of Spring! The problem is, it's cool in the morning and then gets warm later in the day. I have every jacket I own hanging in the break room at work because it's so warm when I leave I forget I wore one in the first place! If I forget the one I wore today I'm in trouble, because it was the last one in the closet, and it was 40 degrees this morning!
Went to see Daughtry at the Assembly Hall last Sunday (Love him!), and went to see a screening of "Back to the Future" at one of our old theaters, The Virginia. This theater is an old Italianate building that used to be a vaudeville house. My grandfather said he used to go to dances on the roof of this theater when he was in college. The inside is very ornate, but looking a little run-down now. Anyway, fun to see the movie there with a big crowd of people. One of my favorite actors had a movie on the SyFy channel last week, etc.
My supervisor gave us all little gift bags with fun stuff in it for Administrative Assistant's Day, and I have found my new tag line! I got a note pad and at the top it says:
"I see these people who can do everything, and I think I should have them do some stuff for ME."
Love it.
Next up: The reconstructive surgery. Stay Tuned.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
The Runner Stumbles And A Press Conference (Not Me!)
I just wanted to apologize for my dark mood in the last post. I had been feeling very tired and down for a few days and the prospect of more surgery was more than I could face. I guess that's to be expected now and again, but I am feeling much better and more optimistic today.
On the news this morning Martina Navritalova announced in a press conference she has breast cancer. Best wishes and prayers to her. I was happy she urged women to get their yearly mammogram no matter what. I will second that. Ladies, we all know it's a major drag and a pain in the butt to go for our mammograms. It's uncomfortable--in fact it hurts, darn it,--but keep in mind it could save your life. I was told that 20 years ago, one in 20 women got breast cancer, now the statistic is one in eight women will get breast cancer. There is SO much the medical community can do if they find it early. Please, please get your mammograms and do your self-exams as well! My aunt found her lump while doing a self-exam. I don't want to sound preachy, but really, If I can convince just one woman to do this I'll be happy.
I noticed Martina said in her announcement that her cancer was not invasive. That's great news. My type was a very invasive form of cancer. Before I caught myself I found myself doing a little one-upsmanship with her. MY cancer was invasive, yours wasn't! Ha. So what? Do we get extra points for having a more serious case of cancer or more involved treatment? No, of course not. We all have the same disease and we are all fighting for our lives. Every woman's journey is different but in no way is less or more valid. We're all in this together. Smacking myself.
I have started taking Tamoxifen. Two pills a day for 5-10 years. Wow. That seems like a long time. I know in time I won't even think about it, but for now it seems like a lot.
Before I go for my next surgery I have to massage the mastectomy area to break up the scar tissue. The doctor said my area is rather stiff right now and I need to break that up. I have to say, though, it HURTS to massage that area! Also, the thought crossed my mind, when does one do this? Before bed? After my shower? In traffic on the way home? Seriously, I can just see the faces of the other cars at the stop light next to me (WTF?!?!)! I decided right after my morning shower and right before bed is best.
Not much else to report right now. For now all is well. Hope it is with you, too! Take care.
On the news this morning Martina Navritalova announced in a press conference she has breast cancer. Best wishes and prayers to her. I was happy she urged women to get their yearly mammogram no matter what. I will second that. Ladies, we all know it's a major drag and a pain in the butt to go for our mammograms. It's uncomfortable--in fact it hurts, darn it,--but keep in mind it could save your life. I was told that 20 years ago, one in 20 women got breast cancer, now the statistic is one in eight women will get breast cancer. There is SO much the medical community can do if they find it early. Please, please get your mammograms and do your self-exams as well! My aunt found her lump while doing a self-exam. I don't want to sound preachy, but really, If I can convince just one woman to do this I'll be happy.
I noticed Martina said in her announcement that her cancer was not invasive. That's great news. My type was a very invasive form of cancer. Before I caught myself I found myself doing a little one-upsmanship with her. MY cancer was invasive, yours wasn't! Ha. So what? Do we get extra points for having a more serious case of cancer or more involved treatment? No, of course not. We all have the same disease and we are all fighting for our lives. Every woman's journey is different but in no way is less or more valid. We're all in this together. Smacking myself.
I have started taking Tamoxifen. Two pills a day for 5-10 years. Wow. That seems like a long time. I know in time I won't even think about it, but for now it seems like a lot.
Before I go for my next surgery I have to massage the mastectomy area to break up the scar tissue. The doctor said my area is rather stiff right now and I need to break that up. I have to say, though, it HURTS to massage that area! Also, the thought crossed my mind, when does one do this? Before bed? After my shower? In traffic on the way home? Seriously, I can just see the faces of the other cars at the stop light next to me (WTF?!?!)! I decided right after my morning shower and right before bed is best.
Not much else to report right now. For now all is well. Hope it is with you, too! Take care.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Finally hitting bottom
I woke up this morning about 4 am. This is the witching hour for me. If I'm upset or worried about something I can deny it all day long, but once I go to sleep my subconscious takes over and prods me awake--usually between 3 and 4 am. Today I lay there for a few moments wondering what was bothering me, and then it dawned on me.
I saw the plastic surgeon at the beginning of the week to discuss my next surgery, which is the start of the reconstruction process. The first thing to be done is to have what they call a 'spacer' put in my right breast that will eventually create a cavity where the permanent breast implant will be placed. They put the spacer under the muscle of the breast to give it some support, but I've heard this is initially pretty painful. I want to do the reconstruction but I am not looking forward to the pain.
This morning I realized what I was feeling was "I don't want to do this!" Magnify that statement about ten times and you get the picture. I have not regained all my strength from the last surgery, and facing the prospect of at least three more surgeries really has me depressed. I just don't feel like I'm physically, mentally or emotionally prepared to do this, although I want to get the reconstruction done and over with so I can move on with my life. At this point, even my usual distractions are not working like they usually do. This ostrich is having a hard time sticking her head in the sand for once as it has turned to concrete!
Some perspective was provided by Debra, whom I have mentioned before. During a messy divorce she had a double mastectomy and then a hysterectomy, plus all the breast reconstruction. She is in her 30's and has two little kids. I asked her if she ever had these feelings during all of her procedures and she assured me this was perfectly normal, and yes she had felt the same. Then she told me in the last year and a half she has had ten surgeries! TEN! Wow. I am not facing half of what she has had to go through, and I am still feeling discouraged.
What I have to face in the next few months. One, the surgery to put the spacer in. Drains in again. I HATE those drains! Well, to be more accurate, I hate having them taken out! *shudder* Two: I go back for another surgery to remove the spacer and have the permanent implant installed. Three: After I heal from that I will have the "Barbie boobs" or, rather, boob. That is the shape of a breast with no nipple or areola. The nipple will be constructed in yet another surgery where I will have skin grafted from the inside of my thigh to create or "build" a nipple. Once that is healed I will get the nipple and areola tattooed (yes, tattoed!) so it has the correct pigment as the other breast. Today, at least, it all seems too much for me.
I also got some disappointing news from the plastic surgeon. When I first met with her, I discussed having a little enlargement of both sides done when I did the reconstruction. Well, when I met with her this week she told me the oncologist wants to do another MRI in six months and they would not approve an implant on my good, left side until I get that done and get the all clear from the oncologist, so the "bodacious ta-ta's" as a friend calls them, will have to wait and if I decide to go back for augmentation in the future, I will have to pay for both sides, whereas now, no matter what size implant I would get in the right side, it would be paid for by insurance. I am pretty disappointed about that.
I really don't mean to sound like a whiny spoiled brat in all this. I am fully aware of how very lucky and blessed I have been through all this. My life was saved, I can't ask for much more than that, but this was to be the lemonade I made out of the lemons I was dealing with. Instead the right breast will be reconstructed the same small size as the left one and I will look exactly the same size I was before. I admit it, I'm sad.
I don't know after all this if I'll have the chutzpah to actually go back for a voluntary procedure to remove the small implant, put a larger one in that side and augment the left side. Oh well, life goes on, I guess, and I should be grateful the option of reconstruction of any size is open to me, right? I try to keep looking on the bright side, but it's a little hard sometimes.
The other issue is, I don't know if I could have come up with the money to pay for the left side enlargement anyway. My finances are tight to the point of snapping now, so maybe it's a good thing I have to wait. I can either start putting a little money aside until I get the amount saved up (about $6,000, I think) or maybe I will decide not to do it at all, and I can use the $6,000 for something else. *Sigh*
But, any talk of enhancements aside, I am finding the idea of this next surgery, and the ones to follow, very daunting, and yes, I'm a little scared.
I saw the plastic surgeon at the beginning of the week to discuss my next surgery, which is the start of the reconstruction process. The first thing to be done is to have what they call a 'spacer' put in my right breast that will eventually create a cavity where the permanent breast implant will be placed. They put the spacer under the muscle of the breast to give it some support, but I've heard this is initially pretty painful. I want to do the reconstruction but I am not looking forward to the pain.
This morning I realized what I was feeling was "I don't want to do this!" Magnify that statement about ten times and you get the picture. I have not regained all my strength from the last surgery, and facing the prospect of at least three more surgeries really has me depressed. I just don't feel like I'm physically, mentally or emotionally prepared to do this, although I want to get the reconstruction done and over with so I can move on with my life. At this point, even my usual distractions are not working like they usually do. This ostrich is having a hard time sticking her head in the sand for once as it has turned to concrete!
Some perspective was provided by Debra, whom I have mentioned before. During a messy divorce she had a double mastectomy and then a hysterectomy, plus all the breast reconstruction. She is in her 30's and has two little kids. I asked her if she ever had these feelings during all of her procedures and she assured me this was perfectly normal, and yes she had felt the same. Then she told me in the last year and a half she has had ten surgeries! TEN! Wow. I am not facing half of what she has had to go through, and I am still feeling discouraged.
What I have to face in the next few months. One, the surgery to put the spacer in. Drains in again. I HATE those drains! Well, to be more accurate, I hate having them taken out! *shudder* Two: I go back for another surgery to remove the spacer and have the permanent implant installed. Three: After I heal from that I will have the "Barbie boobs" or, rather, boob. That is the shape of a breast with no nipple or areola. The nipple will be constructed in yet another surgery where I will have skin grafted from the inside of my thigh to create or "build" a nipple. Once that is healed I will get the nipple and areola tattooed (yes, tattoed!) so it has the correct pigment as the other breast. Today, at least, it all seems too much for me.
I also got some disappointing news from the plastic surgeon. When I first met with her, I discussed having a little enlargement of both sides done when I did the reconstruction. Well, when I met with her this week she told me the oncologist wants to do another MRI in six months and they would not approve an implant on my good, left side until I get that done and get the all clear from the oncologist, so the "bodacious ta-ta's" as a friend calls them, will have to wait and if I decide to go back for augmentation in the future, I will have to pay for both sides, whereas now, no matter what size implant I would get in the right side, it would be paid for by insurance. I am pretty disappointed about that.
I really don't mean to sound like a whiny spoiled brat in all this. I am fully aware of how very lucky and blessed I have been through all this. My life was saved, I can't ask for much more than that, but this was to be the lemonade I made out of the lemons I was dealing with. Instead the right breast will be reconstructed the same small size as the left one and I will look exactly the same size I was before. I admit it, I'm sad.
I don't know after all this if I'll have the chutzpah to actually go back for a voluntary procedure to remove the small implant, put a larger one in that side and augment the left side. Oh well, life goes on, I guess, and I should be grateful the option of reconstruction of any size is open to me, right? I try to keep looking on the bright side, but it's a little hard sometimes.
The other issue is, I don't know if I could have come up with the money to pay for the left side enlargement anyway. My finances are tight to the point of snapping now, so maybe it's a good thing I have to wait. I can either start putting a little money aside until I get the amount saved up (about $6,000, I think) or maybe I will decide not to do it at all, and I can use the $6,000 for something else. *Sigh*
But, any talk of enhancements aside, I am finding the idea of this next surgery, and the ones to follow, very daunting, and yes, I'm a little scared.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Failure to Launch and My First Week Back
Well, last Monday was to be my first day back to work, but I had forgotten to get the work release from my doctor on Friday when I saw her, so I had to call Monday morning. I got up at the time I usually get up on weekdays, got my shower and got dressed in my work clothes and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally about ten o'clock I called my supervisor and told her what the situation was. I was home, but I didn't want to start anything in case the call came in and I had to rush off to work. I needn't have worried. They called about noon, but didn't fax the work release to my office until 4:15, so that kind of shot the day.
Tuesday was my first day back. Everyone was happy to see me, and I found I had actually kind of missed the place. It took some time to settle in, but it was a regular work day with work, phone calls and customers. I left feeling very tired. That night my friend Linda came over for pizza and movies. Wewatched some taped stuff, Castle and the first season of Highlander, which I had rented. We got the giggles over some of it, and that was fun, but I was beat and went to bed as soon as she left.
The next day I got up tired. At about noon, I hit the wall. Completely drained. I hung in there until 3:00, when Brenda, bless her, said she'd stay until 5:00 (she was due to leave at 4:30) if I wanted to go. I talked to the supervisor, Shirl (who was standing in for Stacy, who had called in sick), and she let me go home. As soon as I got home I lay down on the couch and was asleep in about two minutes. The next day I talked to Stacy and decided I would do half days for the rest of the week.
I get so frustrated that I'm not back to 100%, but I guess I have to face it, I'm not. My friend Sarah had hernia surgery last year and said she took six weeks off and then worked half days for ten days after that. I was only off for three weeks, so I guess that makes the difference. Very frustrating.
My mother and I took Kara down to EIU for a new student preview yesterday. Long day with lots of walking. It was fun to see the campus and get the tours, but I was beat when it was over, and I drove both ways back and forth to Charleston.
When we got home I had to take a nap and was still very tired when I got up. I finished my bachelor's degree at EIU, but did it part time through our local community college, Parkland, so I was only on campus a few times. If I could do things over I would have gone to EIU right out of high school and had that experience. I love that campus! It's smaller and friendlier than the U of I, which is in my home town. I think I would have been happy at EIU. Ah well, live and learn.
If only we could have re-do's in life! I know certain people who say they would never go back and change anything in their lives, but personally, I have LOTS of things I'd do differently. Let me count the ways. *Sigh* Yesterday I was wondering how different would my life have been if I'd gone away to college.
I have, I think, finally weaned myself away from the compression bandage. I have worn it long after I needed to, just because, to me, it felt better to keep wearing it, but today I put on the actual bra with the inserts, or should I say, insert, in it. I was wearing both with the compression bandage and jogging bra because the compression bandage flattened me out even on the good side, but with the bra I just need the insert for the right side.
Got a call from the plastic surgeon's nurse. I had called them earlier to tell them I was not going to have to do chemo, and the nurse called back to say: "Come on in! We'll let you try on some sizes!"
Well, the bad news is, I don't think I will have the money to pay for augmenting the good side, so the bad side will just have to get reconstructed to its old, small size. Poo. I am disappointed, but maybe when I save enough I can get both sides done. I know I mentioned this before, but it's pretty much a certainty now. Bummer.
Not much else to report. I went and got the blood test for the BRCA test. Now it will be sent off to Utah for processing. I'll know the results in about two weeks.
I have been doing a lot of walking and trying to stretch out the muscle in my arm on the right side. That's all the exercise I can do right now, but I see the U of I is doing a program of exercise for breast cancer survivors. It's also a study so the participants get a small compensation. I think I will sign up tomorrow.
That's all for now. Tak care!
Tuesday was my first day back. Everyone was happy to see me, and I found I had actually kind of missed the place. It took some time to settle in, but it was a regular work day with work, phone calls and customers. I left feeling very tired. That night my friend Linda came over for pizza and movies. Wewatched some taped stuff, Castle and the first season of Highlander, which I had rented. We got the giggles over some of it, and that was fun, but I was beat and went to bed as soon as she left.
The next day I got up tired. At about noon, I hit the wall. Completely drained. I hung in there until 3:00, when Brenda, bless her, said she'd stay until 5:00 (she was due to leave at 4:30) if I wanted to go. I talked to the supervisor, Shirl (who was standing in for Stacy, who had called in sick), and she let me go home. As soon as I got home I lay down on the couch and was asleep in about two minutes. The next day I talked to Stacy and decided I would do half days for the rest of the week.
I get so frustrated that I'm not back to 100%, but I guess I have to face it, I'm not. My friend Sarah had hernia surgery last year and said she took six weeks off and then worked half days for ten days after that. I was only off for three weeks, so I guess that makes the difference. Very frustrating.
My mother and I took Kara down to EIU for a new student preview yesterday. Long day with lots of walking. It was fun to see the campus and get the tours, but I was beat when it was over, and I drove both ways back and forth to Charleston.
When we got home I had to take a nap and was still very tired when I got up. I finished my bachelor's degree at EIU, but did it part time through our local community college, Parkland, so I was only on campus a few times. If I could do things over I would have gone to EIU right out of high school and had that experience. I love that campus! It's smaller and friendlier than the U of I, which is in my home town. I think I would have been happy at EIU. Ah well, live and learn.
If only we could have re-do's in life! I know certain people who say they would never go back and change anything in their lives, but personally, I have LOTS of things I'd do differently. Let me count the ways. *Sigh* Yesterday I was wondering how different would my life have been if I'd gone away to college.
I have, I think, finally weaned myself away from the compression bandage. I have worn it long after I needed to, just because, to me, it felt better to keep wearing it, but today I put on the actual bra with the inserts, or should I say, insert, in it. I was wearing both with the compression bandage and jogging bra because the compression bandage flattened me out even on the good side, but with the bra I just need the insert for the right side.
Got a call from the plastic surgeon's nurse. I had called them earlier to tell them I was not going to have to do chemo, and the nurse called back to say: "Come on in! We'll let you try on some sizes!"
Well, the bad news is, I don't think I will have the money to pay for augmenting the good side, so the bad side will just have to get reconstructed to its old, small size. Poo. I am disappointed, but maybe when I save enough I can get both sides done. I know I mentioned this before, but it's pretty much a certainty now. Bummer.
Not much else to report. I went and got the blood test for the BRCA test. Now it will be sent off to Utah for processing. I'll know the results in about two weeks.
I have been doing a lot of walking and trying to stretch out the muscle in my arm on the right side. That's all the exercise I can do right now, but I see the U of I is doing a program of exercise for breast cancer survivors. It's also a study so the participants get a small compensation. I think I will sign up tomorrow.
That's all for now. Tak care!
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Hallelujah! No Chemo!
I am VERY happy to report I went to see my oncologist yesterday and the genetic test they did on my tumor shows only a 7% chance of recurrence in 10 years, so I do not have to have chemo or radiation! Yay! I can't tell you how relieved I am! I am so aware that my experience with cancer is not the experience of every woman, but it has been an emotional, scary time for me nonetheless.
In two months I will start the reconstruction of my breast, but for now, all things look good.
I still have to have the BRCA test. Blood will be drawn, then it will be sent to Utah to have the testing done. If the indicators are positive that I could have ovarian and or/breast cancer again, which seems unlikely for breast, given the last test (from what I understand), then I am looking at having my ovaries removed as well as my other breast. Since my mother's test came back negative, thank goodness, I am hopeful my test will, too. Keeping my fingers crossed!
The one dumb thing I did was I forgot to get a doctor's release to go back to work Monday! I will have to call my supervisor and see if I can come to work and present the release later, or if I have to stay out Monday morning until I can get the release. For some reason my oncologist always has me come see her on Fridays at 5:00 or 5:30 so once I leave, they close. Drat!
Probably a good thing I'm going back to work and getting back into things, though, as evidenced by my Stream of Consciousness entry yesterday. Sorry about that. Can you tell I'm getting bored?
I have been very blessed in this experience by all the friends and family who have supported me and sent me good wishes and prayers. I can't but help think that made all the difference in my outcome.
One thing I wanted to share with you all is a picture my Aunt Barbara sent me along with a get well card. This is a picture of me and my cousins Lisa and Susan, in, I guess about 1965. I'm either four or five in this picture. I'm the one in the middle. Check out the knees. Every summer my knees were covered in Band-Aids from climbing trees, riding my bike (and falling off), etc. At first, when I got this picture, I laughed and laughed and I was transported--in my mind, anyway--back to that time. I remember it very well. The family used to gather at my great Aunt Emma's house and have great dinners. After supper all the adults would play gin rummy, and the kids would run around and play. This is us down my aunt's basement mid-play. You can see all the toys strewn around. I'm sure my aunt or uncle had to corral all of us to get this picture taken. The reason I mention this is, after I laughed, I looked at myself as a kid and reflected on what became of this kid. This whole experience has really made me take a good look at my life. What I have done and not done. What wishes came true and what didn't. What I'm going through now. *Deep Breath* Anyway, wanted to share--besides, aren't we cute? I still snicker when I look at it.
I will report on my return to work, but then I guess the next significant news I will have is when the reconstruction starts in two months! Stay tuned!
Thanks so much for reading my blog and taking some interest in my experience. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that! I want to thank Carle Clinic and hospital and the Mills Breast Cancer Center for all their help, plus my wonderful doctors, Dr. Johnson, my oncologist, Dr. Berlin, my surgeon, Dr. Sapiente, the radiologist, Dr. Beitel, my GP, plus Evelyn, Dr. Johson's nurse, and Linda, Dr. Belin's nurse. You are all amazing and I am so thankful I had you on my side!
Hugs,
Tracy
Friday, March 19, 2010
Oops. forgot!
The Stream of Consciousness part of my last post.
Did I tell you about the card I got recently saying I was being prayed for at Lourdes in France and at a place in Belleville, IL? That was touching enough, but the card was not signed and they included $100 to me? Wow! I wish I knew who it was, but I will pay it forward as soon as I can!
Started watching Highlander from the beginning. What's strange is the library gave me only until the end of this month to watch the whole first series, but gave me until the middle of April to read one of my Morganville Vampire books, which are not all that big. Strange.
I am not looking forward to losing all my free time. I have really enjoyed it, circumstances notwithstanding.
Moonlight marathon on SyFy today--shakes head--They never should have cancelled that show! I was hooked at the time! If anyone saw Alex O'Laughlin on Criminal Minds as the OCD serial killer, he should have gotten an Emmy for that! It was richly deserved, IMHO, and I was happy to see he's in an upcoming movie with Jennifer Lopez. Whoo Hoo! I hope he makes it really, really big!
A new taste treat drink in my house! In order to cut out the sugar, we have started to drink Diet Ginger Ale with some lemon, lime and orange squeezed into it. It's really good and refreshing, and no calories, or at least, not much.
Went for another long walk today. It's really helping with my energy levels!
I am a dork when it comes to dancing, but I made a CD of all my favorite "bouncy" music, which is mostly 80's stuff, and I bounce around the house where no one can see me. I can't sing, either, but I make a 'joyful noise" while I dance. I would be mortified if anyone saw me, but I have fun doing it, and it keeps me in a happier frame of mind. List of songs on request. Giggle.
Want to know one of my huge pet peeves? This just makes me crazy! Listening to the radio and having the DJ talk over te entire beginning of a song! Like I'd rather to listen to you blather on about nothing than hear the music! I actually yell "Shut Up!" at the radio it makes me so mad!!! Why do they do that? GRRR!!!!
Okay, enough of me boring you with my thoughts. Take care, all!
Tracy
Did I tell you about the card I got recently saying I was being prayed for at Lourdes in France and at a place in Belleville, IL? That was touching enough, but the card was not signed and they included $100 to me? Wow! I wish I knew who it was, but I will pay it forward as soon as I can!
Started watching Highlander from the beginning. What's strange is the library gave me only until the end of this month to watch the whole first series, but gave me until the middle of April to read one of my Morganville Vampire books, which are not all that big. Strange.
I am not looking forward to losing all my free time. I have really enjoyed it, circumstances notwithstanding.
Moonlight marathon on SyFy today--shakes head--They never should have cancelled that show! I was hooked at the time! If anyone saw Alex O'Laughlin on Criminal Minds as the OCD serial killer, he should have gotten an Emmy for that! It was richly deserved, IMHO, and I was happy to see he's in an upcoming movie with Jennifer Lopez. Whoo Hoo! I hope he makes it really, really big!
A new taste treat drink in my house! In order to cut out the sugar, we have started to drink Diet Ginger Ale with some lemon, lime and orange squeezed into it. It's really good and refreshing, and no calories, or at least, not much.
Went for another long walk today. It's really helping with my energy levels!
I am a dork when it comes to dancing, but I made a CD of all my favorite "bouncy" music, which is mostly 80's stuff, and I bounce around the house where no one can see me. I can't sing, either, but I make a 'joyful noise" while I dance. I would be mortified if anyone saw me, but I have fun doing it, and it keeps me in a happier frame of mind. List of songs on request. Giggle.
Want to know one of my huge pet peeves? This just makes me crazy! Listening to the radio and having the DJ talk over te entire beginning of a song! Like I'd rather to listen to you blather on about nothing than hear the music! I actually yell "Shut Up!" at the radio it makes me so mad!!! Why do they do that? GRRR!!!!
Okay, enough of me boring you with my thoughts. Take care, all!
Tracy
Some Perpectives and More Stream of Consciousness Thoughts
First let me say that I read something recently that makes a lot of sense. It said, just because someone has worse problems than you doesn't mean you don't have problems. That being said, the other day Oprah (another show I've started to watch since I've been home) had the woman who had been mauled and mutilated by that chimpanzee last year. Dear God. That is the most horrible thing! The chimp gouged her eyes out, ripped most of her face off and took off most of both of her hands. I can't tell you how horrified I am by this. That poor woman! In face of all this she is very courageous to go on public TV and show how her face is now. I hate to say this, but if it were me, I would have preferred to have just died. I don't know how she goes on. My heart and my prayers truly go out to her and her family.
When I went for my first biopsy, there was a Haitian woman in the waiting room with her interpreter. This was shortly after the earthquake in Haiti. Those people are still suffering to this day. That was reminder to myself that other people were suffering as much or more than I was. That is not to say I, and others with breast cancer, are not dealing with some serious matters here, it just puts things in a bit of perspective to me. This is just my take on it, I would not presume to judge or speak for anyone else.
As for updates on my condition, I have to say, just when I think I'm out of the woods, something else comes up. I go back to work Monday after taking three weeks off. I can't afford to take more time than that, especially since I will have to take some time off in two months to have my reconstruction done. Speaking of the reconstruction. My insurance will pay for the reconstruction of my right breast in full, but if I choose to do an upgrade insurance will not pay for the left to be augmented. That leaves the bill to me, and I think it will be about $3000. I may have to just have my right done the same small size as always, and then maybe later, when I have the money (I would have to save for quite a while to do it), I can get both enlarged a bit. That's kind of a bummer, since that was one bright spot in all this, but I have to be realistic and my finances are just too tight right now.
I went to see the genetic counselor yesterday. My mother went two weeks ago and just as I was about to leave for the appointment, my mother called to say that her test had come back negative. That means she doesn't have to have both breast and ovaries removed to prevent certain kinds of cancer from recurring. Apparently even at her age her ovaries are putting out estrogen (I think I mentioned this before, didn't I?) and that's the culprit here. I was very happy to hear that since it seems I get so little good news on this front lately. However, when I went the counselor said that my insurance will pay for a more extensive test than my mother's and it still could come back positive. Just when you think you are out of the woods... I have to get blood drawn and then they will send it to Utah to do the more extensive test. Keep your fingers crossed for me. My mom is fully prepared to have all things removed if it comes back positive, but I am not. We'll see.
I went back to the surgeon yesterday, too, to see about any damage I could have done when I lifted too much, but he seemed to think it was okay. He aspirated me again and let me go. *Phew!* I was nervous I'd truly messed things up.
I go to the oncologist tonight at 5:30 to see about the test done on my tumor. The one that will provide more info as to whether I should do chemo or not. I am a little nervous about that. If I have to do the chemo I will, but I really don't want to.
Anyway, when I know more I will let you know!
Tracy
When I went for my first biopsy, there was a Haitian woman in the waiting room with her interpreter. This was shortly after the earthquake in Haiti. Those people are still suffering to this day. That was reminder to myself that other people were suffering as much or more than I was. That is not to say I, and others with breast cancer, are not dealing with some serious matters here, it just puts things in a bit of perspective to me. This is just my take on it, I would not presume to judge or speak for anyone else.
As for updates on my condition, I have to say, just when I think I'm out of the woods, something else comes up. I go back to work Monday after taking three weeks off. I can't afford to take more time than that, especially since I will have to take some time off in two months to have my reconstruction done. Speaking of the reconstruction. My insurance will pay for the reconstruction of my right breast in full, but if I choose to do an upgrade insurance will not pay for the left to be augmented. That leaves the bill to me, and I think it will be about $3000. I may have to just have my right done the same small size as always, and then maybe later, when I have the money (I would have to save for quite a while to do it), I can get both enlarged a bit. That's kind of a bummer, since that was one bright spot in all this, but I have to be realistic and my finances are just too tight right now.
I went to see the genetic counselor yesterday. My mother went two weeks ago and just as I was about to leave for the appointment, my mother called to say that her test had come back negative. That means she doesn't have to have both breast and ovaries removed to prevent certain kinds of cancer from recurring. Apparently even at her age her ovaries are putting out estrogen (I think I mentioned this before, didn't I?) and that's the culprit here. I was very happy to hear that since it seems I get so little good news on this front lately. However, when I went the counselor said that my insurance will pay for a more extensive test than my mother's and it still could come back positive. Just when you think you are out of the woods... I have to get blood drawn and then they will send it to Utah to do the more extensive test. Keep your fingers crossed for me. My mom is fully prepared to have all things removed if it comes back positive, but I am not. We'll see.
I went back to the surgeon yesterday, too, to see about any damage I could have done when I lifted too much, but he seemed to think it was okay. He aspirated me again and let me go. *Phew!* I was nervous I'd truly messed things up.
I go to the oncologist tonight at 5:30 to see about the test done on my tumor. The one that will provide more info as to whether I should do chemo or not. I am a little nervous about that. If I have to do the chemo I will, but I really don't want to.
Anyway, when I know more I will let you know!
Tracy
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
A Stupid Thing I Did, Progress and Some Random Thoughts
Hi all! The news I have to report is I was released from the mummy wrappings yesterday (compression bandage), and I don't have to have a needle stuck in me every few days to drain the fluid, either. Yay! I did do something incredibly stupid this morning, though, and I could just kick myself because not only could I have done some irreparable damage to myself, I had to take a step back.
Today is garbage and recycling day. My garbage day always used to be Monday, and it was easy to remember to put it out on Sunday night, but now that it's Tuesday, I occasionally forget to put the garbage and recycling out and have to wait for the next week to get rid of it. Well, with all that's going on, I forgot last week and had a ton of recycling and garbage to put out, because when my friend Michie was here we cleaned a bunch of my drawers and closets out. So, this morning, not thinking, I carried one of the heavier recycling bins out to the curb. Stupid, stupid, stupid! So, the compression bandage went back on. *Sigh* One step forward, two steps back. When they did the mastectomy they also took about six lymph nodes out from under my arm to examine for cancer cells. If the cancer had spread it would show up in my lymph nodes.
Because of that, I cannot lift over ten pounds for about a year until it all heals up. When my aunt had her misdiagnosis they had to do radical things just to save her life, and one of them was to remove ALL of her lymph nodes. Her arm was fine for a few years, until she lifted a 20 lb bag of potting soil when she was gardening. She felt something give and forever after that she had the big arm. Lymph nodes carry fluid out of your arms, so if they are absent there is nothing to take that fluid away and the fluid builds up. I really, really don't want that, so I will be very careful from now on. I just hope I haven't already done damage by my stupidity. (Shakes head in disgust). I will have to get a compression sleeve to put on my arm when I fly as well. I need to take care of that soon!
So, after I saw the surgeon yesterday and he released me from the drainage and compression bandage, I found the jogging bra with the cotton breast inserts in it is now very loose. When I wore the compression bandage under it, it was fine, now it's too loose. So I went down to the Mills Breast Cancer Center to get another, smaller bra from the gift shop. When we got there the shop was closed until 9:00 and it was about 8:30, so we sat and read magazines in their beautiful, posh lobby until the shop could open. You see the strangest things when you go to the doctor! While I was perusing the latest In Style magazine, I heard a clanking noise and looked up to see two police officers with a man in handcuffs and ankle chains coming in. I wondered how it felt to be shackled like that and having to walk through the lobby to the doctor's office. I felt sorry for the guy, but also thought that this was not something you saw everyday.
Then I saw an elderly woman wearing The Grinch Who Stole Christmas green and red pajama pants, house slippers, an orange and blue Illini jacket and dyed orangish hair. Quite the sight.
Now, for your potential reading pleasure, some random thoughts. When I look at the mastectomy site in the mirror, I remind myself that Amazon women purposely cut off their right breast so they could be better archers. Color me Amazon woman! *snort* Having done it with anesthesia in a medical environment, I can't imagine just taking a knife to it and moving on with my hunting and pillaging. Yow! Those were some tough women!
When I was going every few days to the doctor for the drainage, I found it pretty tedious to take all the layers off. First of all, my right arm does not do well going over my head or behind me, so taking any sweaters or shirts off is problematic. Once that's done, it's off with the jogging bra with the falsies in it, then, last but not least, the mummy wrappings come off and I put on the hospital poncho. Once I had been drained, he always put gauze on the area and taped me up with that awful medical tape. The next day when I'd go to take a shower, it took at least ten minutes to peel that stuff off of me, not to mention painful, and then it would leave tape gunk all over me. Dr. B told me a drop of lighter fluid will take it off, but I went with my Goo Gone instead. You smell a little orange-y afterward, but it works well enough, it's just a pain to do all the time. I was about to ask him yesterday if we could just put a Band-Aid in it instead, but it turned out to be a moot point.
I wanted to explain my point of view on something. I have had people tell me I'm strong and/or brave through all this. To my mind, not really. It's hard to fathom you have a disease that could potentially kill you when you have no symptoms. I felt fine, still do, aside from the healing from the mastectomy. When I was a kid I had a bad case of asthma. I remember sitting up nights struggling to breathe. I was so tired I could hardly sit up straight, but lying down made it worse. That kind of thing I'm afraid of. I don't scuba dive because I'm afraid of not getting enough air. That scares me. This I can cope with.
I should mention the surgeon said the lymph nodes were clear, and they got all the cancer when they did the mastectomy so all looks good. However, as previously mentioned, the oncologist says I'm on the cusp for chemo therapy. My odds are better of I take it than if I don't. That is, odds that the cancer won't return in ten years. I'd rather just take the Tamoxifen and leave it at that, but part of that is I'm afraid of how sick the chemo will make me, I'm afraid of how much more work I will have to miss, and on a vanity scale, I'm afraid of all my hair falling out for a long period of time. I go back to see her on Friday, so we'll see, but I'm a little scared right now.
It's Tuesday and next Monday I have to go back to work. It's just Tuesday, but I'm already grieving that my time off will end soon. Three weeks has gone incredibly fast. I figured it would last a long, long time and I'd get a chance to get a bunch of things done at home, but it's almost done. Time does indeed fly.
Spring has come and it's lovely today. I am so glad to see the dreary days of winter go away. I'm a summer person. I have a good friend, Linda, who is just the opposite. She hates warm weather and sun. I have SAD, and drag myself through the winter, but I hear there is an opposite condition where the person is enervated by sun and warmth. I dread winter and she dreads summer. I say I was meant to live someplace tropical and she longs to move to Canada or Minnesota.
I may have mentioned this before, but one of my coping strategies is to distract myself from the big, bad thing I have to deal with. As I said before, I'm a geeked out fan-girl, so my TV shows help me get by, plus, I get crushes on the actors all the time. It's just a fun thing for me. Disclaimer: NOT a potential stalker or anything. It just makes life fun and interesting to me. So, petty justifications aside, my shows are Stargate SG-1 (crushing Richard Dean Anderson, Michael Shanks, and want to be Amanda Tapping in my next life), Sanctuary (again, Amanda Tapping, and crushing on all the guys on the show, plus Peter Wingfield and Jonathan Young, who are guest stars) Burn Notice (love the entire cast!), Castle (Ditto), Chuck (Ditto, Ditto), Biggest Loser (I'm addicted) and a show I have just come to love since I have been home during the day--Ellen. I just laugh my head off at that show! She is truly, truly funny! What would I have done without "Bad Paid For Photos" this week, I ask you? A real ray of sunshine during the day! I went to see "Alice in Wonderland" this weekend, and am just amazed at how talented Johnny Depp is. He is such a great character actor, when he could have settled to be just another pretty face. I am in awe.
I have gone out walking since the weather is nicer now. My friend Linda R, told me about a friend of hers who had a double mastectomy. While she was recovering she worked up to walking three miles a day. That inspired me. This friend also opted not to have the reconstruction done at all. In fact, at the gym she walks around with just a towel around her waist in the locker room. I truly admire that kind of confidence, but I just couldn't do it. Just a personal thing on my part. I so admire people like Christina Applegate E.D. Hill, and my co-worker and friend, Debra, who have chosen to have double mastectomies to save their lives, but I am just not brave enough to do that. If it recurs at some point in the other breast, I may ultimately end up having that result anyway, but I just can't do it right now. I am also not brave enough to not have the reconstruction. I am very thankful that the option of reconstruction exists in this day and age, not to mention all the new things they can do to prevent and cure cancer. That is a true blessing. Plus, as I mentioned before, I plan on getting an upgrade when I get the reconstruction as something for me, and it's something to look forward to.
Thursday I go for genetic counseling. My mother just recently went and was told if the test comes back positive she is looking at having both breasts removed and a hysterectomy. Even at her age (69), post menopausal, her ovaries are putting out estrogen, and that is, apparently, the bad guy here. Again, I don't think I want to do something that drastic unless I have to, but mom says she's going to do it if the indicators are there. I don't think I will, but who knows? I need all the information first. It just seems to me that it would remove everthing that makes me a woman. Maybe my perception is skewed, but that's my knee-jerk reaction. See? Not so brave, after all.
So, I motor on. I'm off for a walk, so take care, all, and I will talk to you when there's something to talk about.
Today is garbage and recycling day. My garbage day always used to be Monday, and it was easy to remember to put it out on Sunday night, but now that it's Tuesday, I occasionally forget to put the garbage and recycling out and have to wait for the next week to get rid of it. Well, with all that's going on, I forgot last week and had a ton of recycling and garbage to put out, because when my friend Michie was here we cleaned a bunch of my drawers and closets out. So, this morning, not thinking, I carried one of the heavier recycling bins out to the curb. Stupid, stupid, stupid! So, the compression bandage went back on. *Sigh* One step forward, two steps back. When they did the mastectomy they also took about six lymph nodes out from under my arm to examine for cancer cells. If the cancer had spread it would show up in my lymph nodes.
Because of that, I cannot lift over ten pounds for about a year until it all heals up. When my aunt had her misdiagnosis they had to do radical things just to save her life, and one of them was to remove ALL of her lymph nodes. Her arm was fine for a few years, until she lifted a 20 lb bag of potting soil when she was gardening. She felt something give and forever after that she had the big arm. Lymph nodes carry fluid out of your arms, so if they are absent there is nothing to take that fluid away and the fluid builds up. I really, really don't want that, so I will be very careful from now on. I just hope I haven't already done damage by my stupidity. (Shakes head in disgust). I will have to get a compression sleeve to put on my arm when I fly as well. I need to take care of that soon!
So, after I saw the surgeon yesterday and he released me from the drainage and compression bandage, I found the jogging bra with the cotton breast inserts in it is now very loose. When I wore the compression bandage under it, it was fine, now it's too loose. So I went down to the Mills Breast Cancer Center to get another, smaller bra from the gift shop. When we got there the shop was closed until 9:00 and it was about 8:30, so we sat and read magazines in their beautiful, posh lobby until the shop could open. You see the strangest things when you go to the doctor! While I was perusing the latest In Style magazine, I heard a clanking noise and looked up to see two police officers with a man in handcuffs and ankle chains coming in. I wondered how it felt to be shackled like that and having to walk through the lobby to the doctor's office. I felt sorry for the guy, but also thought that this was not something you saw everyday.
Then I saw an elderly woman wearing The Grinch Who Stole Christmas green and red pajama pants, house slippers, an orange and blue Illini jacket and dyed orangish hair. Quite the sight.
Now, for your potential reading pleasure, some random thoughts. When I look at the mastectomy site in the mirror, I remind myself that Amazon women purposely cut off their right breast so they could be better archers. Color me Amazon woman! *snort* Having done it with anesthesia in a medical environment, I can't imagine just taking a knife to it and moving on with my hunting and pillaging. Yow! Those were some tough women!
When I was going every few days to the doctor for the drainage, I found it pretty tedious to take all the layers off. First of all, my right arm does not do well going over my head or behind me, so taking any sweaters or shirts off is problematic. Once that's done, it's off with the jogging bra with the falsies in it, then, last but not least, the mummy wrappings come off and I put on the hospital poncho. Once I had been drained, he always put gauze on the area and taped me up with that awful medical tape. The next day when I'd go to take a shower, it took at least ten minutes to peel that stuff off of me, not to mention painful, and then it would leave tape gunk all over me. Dr. B told me a drop of lighter fluid will take it off, but I went with my Goo Gone instead. You smell a little orange-y afterward, but it works well enough, it's just a pain to do all the time. I was about to ask him yesterday if we could just put a Band-Aid in it instead, but it turned out to be a moot point.
I wanted to explain my point of view on something. I have had people tell me I'm strong and/or brave through all this. To my mind, not really. It's hard to fathom you have a disease that could potentially kill you when you have no symptoms. I felt fine, still do, aside from the healing from the mastectomy. When I was a kid I had a bad case of asthma. I remember sitting up nights struggling to breathe. I was so tired I could hardly sit up straight, but lying down made it worse. That kind of thing I'm afraid of. I don't scuba dive because I'm afraid of not getting enough air. That scares me. This I can cope with.
I should mention the surgeon said the lymph nodes were clear, and they got all the cancer when they did the mastectomy so all looks good. However, as previously mentioned, the oncologist says I'm on the cusp for chemo therapy. My odds are better of I take it than if I don't. That is, odds that the cancer won't return in ten years. I'd rather just take the Tamoxifen and leave it at that, but part of that is I'm afraid of how sick the chemo will make me, I'm afraid of how much more work I will have to miss, and on a vanity scale, I'm afraid of all my hair falling out for a long period of time. I go back to see her on Friday, so we'll see, but I'm a little scared right now.
It's Tuesday and next Monday I have to go back to work. It's just Tuesday, but I'm already grieving that my time off will end soon. Three weeks has gone incredibly fast. I figured it would last a long, long time and I'd get a chance to get a bunch of things done at home, but it's almost done. Time does indeed fly.
Spring has come and it's lovely today. I am so glad to see the dreary days of winter go away. I'm a summer person. I have a good friend, Linda, who is just the opposite. She hates warm weather and sun. I have SAD, and drag myself through the winter, but I hear there is an opposite condition where the person is enervated by sun and warmth. I dread winter and she dreads summer. I say I was meant to live someplace tropical and she longs to move to Canada or Minnesota.
I may have mentioned this before, but one of my coping strategies is to distract myself from the big, bad thing I have to deal with. As I said before, I'm a geeked out fan-girl, so my TV shows help me get by, plus, I get crushes on the actors all the time. It's just a fun thing for me. Disclaimer: NOT a potential stalker or anything. It just makes life fun and interesting to me. So, petty justifications aside, my shows are Stargate SG-1 (crushing Richard Dean Anderson, Michael Shanks, and want to be Amanda Tapping in my next life), Sanctuary (again, Amanda Tapping, and crushing on all the guys on the show, plus Peter Wingfield and Jonathan Young, who are guest stars) Burn Notice (love the entire cast!), Castle (Ditto), Chuck (Ditto, Ditto), Biggest Loser (I'm addicted) and a show I have just come to love since I have been home during the day--Ellen. I just laugh my head off at that show! She is truly, truly funny! What would I have done without "Bad Paid For Photos" this week, I ask you? A real ray of sunshine during the day! I went to see "Alice in Wonderland" this weekend, and am just amazed at how talented Johnny Depp is. He is such a great character actor, when he could have settled to be just another pretty face. I am in awe.
I have gone out walking since the weather is nicer now. My friend Linda R, told me about a friend of hers who had a double mastectomy. While she was recovering she worked up to walking three miles a day. That inspired me. This friend also opted not to have the reconstruction done at all. In fact, at the gym she walks around with just a towel around her waist in the locker room. I truly admire that kind of confidence, but I just couldn't do it. Just a personal thing on my part. I so admire people like Christina Applegate E.D. Hill, and my co-worker and friend, Debra, who have chosen to have double mastectomies to save their lives, but I am just not brave enough to do that. If it recurs at some point in the other breast, I may ultimately end up having that result anyway, but I just can't do it right now. I am also not brave enough to not have the reconstruction. I am very thankful that the option of reconstruction exists in this day and age, not to mention all the new things they can do to prevent and cure cancer. That is a true blessing. Plus, as I mentioned before, I plan on getting an upgrade when I get the reconstruction as something for me, and it's something to look forward to.
Thursday I go for genetic counseling. My mother just recently went and was told if the test comes back positive she is looking at having both breasts removed and a hysterectomy. Even at her age (69), post menopausal, her ovaries are putting out estrogen, and that is, apparently, the bad guy here. Again, I don't think I want to do something that drastic unless I have to, but mom says she's going to do it if the indicators are there. I don't think I will, but who knows? I need all the information first. It just seems to me that it would remove everthing that makes me a woman. Maybe my perception is skewed, but that's my knee-jerk reaction. See? Not so brave, after all.
So, I motor on. I'm off for a walk, so take care, all, and I will talk to you when there's something to talk about.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Recovery Between Naps
So, my very good friend from Florida, Micheline, came up and stayed with me all week to take care of me, bless her heart. The night I got home my friend Linda S. came and stayed with me, and another friend, Linda R. (I have to get friends with different names!) cooked dinner for us and brought it over. I got lots of cards and flowers and was really touched by everyone's love and concern.
Sleep was iffy. I would get to sleep but then wake up in pain. I only took the official pain killers for a couple of days and then switched to four Advil. The painkillers were making me feel really strange and sort of sick to my stomach. Advil worked great. I have been reading the Morganville Vampire books by Rachel Caine, and they kept me company many nights.
After a couple of days I felt pretty good, but after a while I would just deflate like a balloon. No energy at all. I kept trying to get up and get going, but naps were really, really important, too. I had two drains in that I had to empty each day and if the tubes somehow got pulled on were very painful. I was wrapped like a mummy in a compression bandage and couldn't bathe until the Monday after my surgery. Ick. By Monday I couldn't stand myself anymore, so I put a couple of inches of water in the bathtub and got in. I was able to wash with a sponge almost all of me, while avoiding the bandage, which was to be kept dry. Afterward, I leaned over the kitchen sink, and Micheline washed my hair for me. I felt SO much better afterward.
I went to the doctor and he took one drain out. It felt a little funny, but not too bad. Well, the other drain, which was to stay in for a few more days, wouldn't cooperate after that. As the doctor put it, the drain didn't like that he'd taken the other one out. Since he couldn't get any suction he said we might as well take that one out, too. That one really, REALLY hurt coming out! I mean, I actually gasped in pain when he took it out, but at least it was quick. He bandaged me up, wrapped me back into the compression bandage and sent me home. The pathology report had not come back yet, so the verdict was not in yet. He wanted me to come back Thursday so he could check the drainage and also to give me the report.
Micheline cooked and cleaned for us, helped me clean out a closet--I sat on the floor and she took things out to ask me about. She was amazing and helped me so much. I told her I'd never be able to repay her, but she said I had nothing to repay, bless her. We went out a few times to do errands and just get me out of the house for a bit, but I tired pretty easily, so we'd come home and I'd crash.
Wednesday night I had a bad night. Lots of pain, especially under my arm I had finally looked at my mastectomy that day, too. I had been sort of afraid to look at it, but it wasn't as bad as I thought. Less like I'd been hollowed out and more like a deflated souffle. The plastic surgeon had the surgeon conserve a lot of my breast for the reconstruction.
I went to the doctor Thursday morning, and he said the report showed my lymph nodes were clear, so the cancer had not spread, thank God, and they got all the cancer when they did my mastectomy. Yay! I asked if this meant I would not have to have chemo or radiation, and he said he would leave that up to my oncologist, but it looked very good. With the drains gone, I had built up some fluid, so he did a needle aspiration. He put the needle into a numb part of my breast, but once inside, it travelled to a not-so-numb part and OUCH! Once he had it all drained, though, I felt much, much better and the pain under my arm was gone.
Thursday night I had tickets to see Jeff Dunham, the ventriloquist (I'm a big fan!), so I made sure to take a nap and take it easy all day so I could go see him. I did not want to miss his show! I had tickets since October and really wanted to go! Micheline got a single ticket some rows down from us, since she couldn't sit with Linda S. and I. For the first time I wore my bra with the prosthesis in it. My upholstery. I had bought a bra with cotton inserts in it. I only needed one, but since the one made me a little bigger on one side than my natural side, I took some padding out of the one I was going to wear on my natural side and evened things out.
The show opened with Guitar Guy, who was very, very funny, and a great guitar player! When he was done there was a fifteen minute intermission before Jeff Dunham was to appear. Linda went to get popcorn, and I walked down to where Micheline was sitting to talk with her for a bit since she was alone. As I was coming back up the steps, I happened to look up, and caught a man standing near the top of the steps looking at my chest. I wanted to point and say: "Ha ha, jokes on you!" or pull one of the cotton inserts out to show him or something, but I didn't say anything.
Friday I went to see my oncologist. She thought it was funny I called my inserts my upholstery.
I thought I was home-free. Instead, she told me I was on the cusp for whether I should get chemo or not. If I just took the Tamoxifen, which was a certainty, my chance of it recurring in ten years was %15. If I did the chemo and the Tamoxifen it would reduce the chances to %12. Do I want to go through chemo just for a %3 difference? I still don't know. Dr. J suggested we do a genetic test on my tumor to get more information and then we could decide from there. I go back to her in two weeks, but I'm pretty certain I'm not going to do the chemo. Is this a logical decision or am I deciding this out of fear and vanity? I'm not sure.
The other consideration is, if I don't do chemo I can get my reconstruction done in two months. If I do it will be middle to late summer before I can do it. Lots to consider.
During the week I had a little drama with Kara, my 17-year old, but she was feeling left out and neglected, and I don't blame her for that, I was just not up to fighting any battles. She's a sweet girl and has a good heart, we just had to iron some things out.
So, now you are mostly up to date. Michie left to go back to Florida yesterday. I will miss her a lot. I usually get a break from winter by going down to visit her and her husband Scott this time of year, but not this year. I'm not sure when I will get to go back *Sigh*
I went back to Dr. B yesterday to have the drainage done again. This time it didn't hurt at all, and he said there was not so much fluid, so my body is starting to absorb it. I go back Thursday for another session. He laughed when I told him my MacGyver method for putting my compression bandage on without help. I close the Velcro end in the bathroom door, and, while holding the other end to me, I spin until I'm all wrapped up again. It works really well.
I have a bunch of black tape gunk left on my skin from all the bandaging, and it's in areas I'd rather not scrub. Dr. B. said just a drop of lighter fluid on a rag will dissolve it pretty quickly. I have Goo-Gone, too. I will have to try that.
I have to see this time off as an opportunity to get some things done. I love creative writing, and I had started on a mystery novel a long time ago, but put it down and never got back to it. I am going to work on it this week.
Unless something exciting or unusual happens, I won't have much to report until I see the doctor again about the test we did regarding the chemo, so I will be pretty quiet for a while. Everything I do right now is between naps, you know? Take care, all. Talk to you soon!
Sleep was iffy. I would get to sleep but then wake up in pain. I only took the official pain killers for a couple of days and then switched to four Advil. The painkillers were making me feel really strange and sort of sick to my stomach. Advil worked great. I have been reading the Morganville Vampire books by Rachel Caine, and they kept me company many nights.
After a couple of days I felt pretty good, but after a while I would just deflate like a balloon. No energy at all. I kept trying to get up and get going, but naps were really, really important, too. I had two drains in that I had to empty each day and if the tubes somehow got pulled on were very painful. I was wrapped like a mummy in a compression bandage and couldn't bathe until the Monday after my surgery. Ick. By Monday I couldn't stand myself anymore, so I put a couple of inches of water in the bathtub and got in. I was able to wash with a sponge almost all of me, while avoiding the bandage, which was to be kept dry. Afterward, I leaned over the kitchen sink, and Micheline washed my hair for me. I felt SO much better afterward.
I went to the doctor and he took one drain out. It felt a little funny, but not too bad. Well, the other drain, which was to stay in for a few more days, wouldn't cooperate after that. As the doctor put it, the drain didn't like that he'd taken the other one out. Since he couldn't get any suction he said we might as well take that one out, too. That one really, REALLY hurt coming out! I mean, I actually gasped in pain when he took it out, but at least it was quick. He bandaged me up, wrapped me back into the compression bandage and sent me home. The pathology report had not come back yet, so the verdict was not in yet. He wanted me to come back Thursday so he could check the drainage and also to give me the report.
Micheline cooked and cleaned for us, helped me clean out a closet--I sat on the floor and she took things out to ask me about. She was amazing and helped me so much. I told her I'd never be able to repay her, but she said I had nothing to repay, bless her. We went out a few times to do errands and just get me out of the house for a bit, but I tired pretty easily, so we'd come home and I'd crash.
Wednesday night I had a bad night. Lots of pain, especially under my arm I had finally looked at my mastectomy that day, too. I had been sort of afraid to look at it, but it wasn't as bad as I thought. Less like I'd been hollowed out and more like a deflated souffle. The plastic surgeon had the surgeon conserve a lot of my breast for the reconstruction.
I went to the doctor Thursday morning, and he said the report showed my lymph nodes were clear, so the cancer had not spread, thank God, and they got all the cancer when they did my mastectomy. Yay! I asked if this meant I would not have to have chemo or radiation, and he said he would leave that up to my oncologist, but it looked very good. With the drains gone, I had built up some fluid, so he did a needle aspiration. He put the needle into a numb part of my breast, but once inside, it travelled to a not-so-numb part and OUCH! Once he had it all drained, though, I felt much, much better and the pain under my arm was gone.
Thursday night I had tickets to see Jeff Dunham, the ventriloquist (I'm a big fan!), so I made sure to take a nap and take it easy all day so I could go see him. I did not want to miss his show! I had tickets since October and really wanted to go! Micheline got a single ticket some rows down from us, since she couldn't sit with Linda S. and I. For the first time I wore my bra with the prosthesis in it. My upholstery. I had bought a bra with cotton inserts in it. I only needed one, but since the one made me a little bigger on one side than my natural side, I took some padding out of the one I was going to wear on my natural side and evened things out.
The show opened with Guitar Guy, who was very, very funny, and a great guitar player! When he was done there was a fifteen minute intermission before Jeff Dunham was to appear. Linda went to get popcorn, and I walked down to where Micheline was sitting to talk with her for a bit since she was alone. As I was coming back up the steps, I happened to look up, and caught a man standing near the top of the steps looking at my chest. I wanted to point and say: "Ha ha, jokes on you!" or pull one of the cotton inserts out to show him or something, but I didn't say anything.
Friday I went to see my oncologist. She thought it was funny I called my inserts my upholstery.
I thought I was home-free. Instead, she told me I was on the cusp for whether I should get chemo or not. If I just took the Tamoxifen, which was a certainty, my chance of it recurring in ten years was %15. If I did the chemo and the Tamoxifen it would reduce the chances to %12. Do I want to go through chemo just for a %3 difference? I still don't know. Dr. J suggested we do a genetic test on my tumor to get more information and then we could decide from there. I go back to her in two weeks, but I'm pretty certain I'm not going to do the chemo. Is this a logical decision or am I deciding this out of fear and vanity? I'm not sure.
The other consideration is, if I don't do chemo I can get my reconstruction done in two months. If I do it will be middle to late summer before I can do it. Lots to consider.
During the week I had a little drama with Kara, my 17-year old, but she was feeling left out and neglected, and I don't blame her for that, I was just not up to fighting any battles. She's a sweet girl and has a good heart, we just had to iron some things out.
So, now you are mostly up to date. Michie left to go back to Florida yesterday. I will miss her a lot. I usually get a break from winter by going down to visit her and her husband Scott this time of year, but not this year. I'm not sure when I will get to go back *Sigh*
I went back to Dr. B yesterday to have the drainage done again. This time it didn't hurt at all, and he said there was not so much fluid, so my body is starting to absorb it. I go back Thursday for another session. He laughed when I told him my MacGyver method for putting my compression bandage on without help. I close the Velcro end in the bathroom door, and, while holding the other end to me, I spin until I'm all wrapped up again. It works really well.
I have a bunch of black tape gunk left on my skin from all the bandaging, and it's in areas I'd rather not scrub. Dr. B. said just a drop of lighter fluid on a rag will dissolve it pretty quickly. I have Goo-Gone, too. I will have to try that.
I have to see this time off as an opportunity to get some things done. I love creative writing, and I had started on a mystery novel a long time ago, but put it down and never got back to it. I am going to work on it this week.
Unless something exciting or unusual happens, I won't have much to report until I see the doctor again about the test we did regarding the chemo, so I will be pretty quiet for a while. Everything I do right now is between naps, you know? Take care, all. Talk to you soon!
Friday, March 5, 2010
I'm Baaack!!!!
I am so sorry I've taken so long to get back to all of you, but as you might imagine, it's been a hard week. I need to get you all caught up on my surgery and all the fun stuff afterward. Note to self: If you want to sleep, don't try to do it in the hospital!
So, last Thursday, February 25, 2010, exactly ten months until Christmas, I had my surgery. I had to be there by 5:30 in the blessed A.M., and then you wait. Well, my mom and step dad picked me up at about ten minutes to 5:00 and we drove over to the hospital, with my knees shaking a bit all the way. Since there is not much traffic that time of day we made good time and got there by 5:10. My stepfather dropped my mother and I off and we went up to the hospital door. one door had a sign on it that said: "Use Other Door." Tried that door, but it was locked. I was ready to walk away and go over to the emergency room entrance, but my mom tried the door with the sign on it and it was open! Either someone has a strange sense of humor or they just put the sign on the wrong door.
We sat in the waiting room until about 5:45 and then I got called back. The prep rooms at Carle are wonderful! You have your own TV to distract you and the bed you will occupy for the next couple of days is provided. I had to take everything off, couldn't even keep the underwear on, and put a gown on. They put me in the bed and got me a heated blanket to put over me. Very, very nice. Then the nurse put the IV in my wrist and left to get my folks. They came in and we chatted for a bit until Dr. B, my surgeon came in and talked with me. I like him a lot. Very nice and he inspires confidence, so that's a plus. He explained what would happen and told me they would start giving me the anesthesia soon, then they would take me down to surgery. That's the last thing I remember.
I woke up to the sound of a little kid crying. I didn't have my glasses (no contacts allowed) so I couldn't see much, but as soon as I opened my eyes a nurse came over and said: "Tracy, you're out of surgery and everything went fine." I asked her if the kid was okay. She said he was fine, it was just the way some kids woke from the anesthesia.
So, it was done. My right breast was gone, but hopefully, so was the cancer. Keep your eyes on the prize, girl! I was pretty drugged up, but I could feel the compression bandage around me. It was pretty tight, but I didn't have any pain. I must have gone back to sleep, because the next thing I knew I was in my hospital room. They gave me a lovely morphine pump and everything.
My folks talked to me for a bit and then went to have lunch. I just wanted to go back to sleep, but the woman in the bed next to me, whom I couldn't see because of the curtain around her, was having a breathing problem. I'd doze off, and so would she, and every time she did her oxygen alarm went off because her oxygen levels would drop when she slept. Very aggravating, but she kept apologizing to me for disturbing me. I told her it was not her fault, she couldn't help it, but I really, really wanted to sleep!
Later that day she was released and I had the room to myself. Ah, I thought, I can finally sleep! Wrong. First every alarm in the place went off every few minutes, they nursing staff, who were really kind and wonderful, kept coming in to check my vitals, and then some guy got into a loud argument with a nurse right outside my door. Oh, and I should mention that the tower I was in housed the helicopter pad, and it arrived and left a few times during the day as well. I dozed a bit, but not much. I think the other problem was, I don't sleep on my back well, so I didn't sleep well at all.
Later in the day they told me I could have a liquid diet to start out with, and if that stayed down I could move on to more substantial food. Pah, I thought. I feel fine! I can eat anything. Wrong again. I had chicken broth, jello and apple juice and felt pretty good. Later I got some chocolate ice cream. Bad idea. A few minutes later it came right back up. I felt okay after that, and the nurse said that could have been a afterthought of the anesthesia.
Much later, I was getting pretty hungry, so I got a bit more to eat, but still in the softer variety. It didn't stay down either. Gah! I was hungry, but I was afraid to eat anything in case it came back up. Looking back on it now, I think it was the morphine. I was using it a bit too much. That little button is just too easy to use, so I purposely cut back.
Every cloud has a silver lining, and mine is that I have so many friends, family and well-wishers that are really concerned for me that I am really, really touched. I had several visitors that night and that meant a lot to me. Instead of flowers, I got several stuffed animals to cuddle while I recuperated.
During the evening shift I got a male nurse named Al whom I really liked a lot. He teased me about the animals and asked if I'd named them. He just generally talked to me like a friend and teased me about things. He was great.
I hated to keep calling him and Pat, the nursing assistant all night, but they kept giving me these big bags of fluid through my IV and I had to go to the bathroom all night long. Because I was plugged into the IV, and I had those massage things around my legs, I had to have someone come unhook me from all of it to get out of bed and go. The first time I did it, by the time I got back to the bed, I was in a cold sweat and the room was spinning. The nurse had me sit on the side of the bed while she waved something under my nose and put something cool on my forehead. She said that was a long way to walk for my first trip out of bed. Later visits went much better.
My surgeon, Dr. B., visited both Thursday night about 8:30 and Friday at about 6 am. The man works long hours apparently. I got brave and ordered scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast and I am happy to report they stayed down. I got released from the hospital fairly early and looked forward to actually getting some sleep in the near future.
Mom came and took me and all my loot, i.e., flowers, stuffed animals, medicine and the stuff I'd packed to come to the hospital that I never used, home, and I was put to bed, where I'm happy to report I slept just great! Woke up to a considerable amount of pain, but took more pain killers and repeated the process.
More later about the week after, tonight I have to go see the oncologist for the final verdict and will let you know what she says in my next post.
Next: To chemo or not to chemo, that is the question.
So, last Thursday, February 25, 2010, exactly ten months until Christmas, I had my surgery. I had to be there by 5:30 in the blessed A.M., and then you wait. Well, my mom and step dad picked me up at about ten minutes to 5:00 and we drove over to the hospital, with my knees shaking a bit all the way. Since there is not much traffic that time of day we made good time and got there by 5:10. My stepfather dropped my mother and I off and we went up to the hospital door. one door had a sign on it that said: "Use Other Door." Tried that door, but it was locked. I was ready to walk away and go over to the emergency room entrance, but my mom tried the door with the sign on it and it was open! Either someone has a strange sense of humor or they just put the sign on the wrong door.
We sat in the waiting room until about 5:45 and then I got called back. The prep rooms at Carle are wonderful! You have your own TV to distract you and the bed you will occupy for the next couple of days is provided. I had to take everything off, couldn't even keep the underwear on, and put a gown on. They put me in the bed and got me a heated blanket to put over me. Very, very nice. Then the nurse put the IV in my wrist and left to get my folks. They came in and we chatted for a bit until Dr. B, my surgeon came in and talked with me. I like him a lot. Very nice and he inspires confidence, so that's a plus. He explained what would happen and told me they would start giving me the anesthesia soon, then they would take me down to surgery. That's the last thing I remember.
I woke up to the sound of a little kid crying. I didn't have my glasses (no contacts allowed) so I couldn't see much, but as soon as I opened my eyes a nurse came over and said: "Tracy, you're out of surgery and everything went fine." I asked her if the kid was okay. She said he was fine, it was just the way some kids woke from the anesthesia.
So, it was done. My right breast was gone, but hopefully, so was the cancer. Keep your eyes on the prize, girl! I was pretty drugged up, but I could feel the compression bandage around me. It was pretty tight, but I didn't have any pain. I must have gone back to sleep, because the next thing I knew I was in my hospital room. They gave me a lovely morphine pump and everything.
My folks talked to me for a bit and then went to have lunch. I just wanted to go back to sleep, but the woman in the bed next to me, whom I couldn't see because of the curtain around her, was having a breathing problem. I'd doze off, and so would she, and every time she did her oxygen alarm went off because her oxygen levels would drop when she slept. Very aggravating, but she kept apologizing to me for disturbing me. I told her it was not her fault, she couldn't help it, but I really, really wanted to sleep!
Later that day she was released and I had the room to myself. Ah, I thought, I can finally sleep! Wrong. First every alarm in the place went off every few minutes, they nursing staff, who were really kind and wonderful, kept coming in to check my vitals, and then some guy got into a loud argument with a nurse right outside my door. Oh, and I should mention that the tower I was in housed the helicopter pad, and it arrived and left a few times during the day as well. I dozed a bit, but not much. I think the other problem was, I don't sleep on my back well, so I didn't sleep well at all.
Later in the day they told me I could have a liquid diet to start out with, and if that stayed down I could move on to more substantial food. Pah, I thought. I feel fine! I can eat anything. Wrong again. I had chicken broth, jello and apple juice and felt pretty good. Later I got some chocolate ice cream. Bad idea. A few minutes later it came right back up. I felt okay after that, and the nurse said that could have been a afterthought of the anesthesia.
Much later, I was getting pretty hungry, so I got a bit more to eat, but still in the softer variety. It didn't stay down either. Gah! I was hungry, but I was afraid to eat anything in case it came back up. Looking back on it now, I think it was the morphine. I was using it a bit too much. That little button is just too easy to use, so I purposely cut back.
Every cloud has a silver lining, and mine is that I have so many friends, family and well-wishers that are really concerned for me that I am really, really touched. I had several visitors that night and that meant a lot to me. Instead of flowers, I got several stuffed animals to cuddle while I recuperated.
During the evening shift I got a male nurse named Al whom I really liked a lot. He teased me about the animals and asked if I'd named them. He just generally talked to me like a friend and teased me about things. He was great.
I hated to keep calling him and Pat, the nursing assistant all night, but they kept giving me these big bags of fluid through my IV and I had to go to the bathroom all night long. Because I was plugged into the IV, and I had those massage things around my legs, I had to have someone come unhook me from all of it to get out of bed and go. The first time I did it, by the time I got back to the bed, I was in a cold sweat and the room was spinning. The nurse had me sit on the side of the bed while she waved something under my nose and put something cool on my forehead. She said that was a long way to walk for my first trip out of bed. Later visits went much better.
My surgeon, Dr. B., visited both Thursday night about 8:30 and Friday at about 6 am. The man works long hours apparently. I got brave and ordered scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast and I am happy to report they stayed down. I got released from the hospital fairly early and looked forward to actually getting some sleep in the near future.
Mom came and took me and all my loot, i.e., flowers, stuffed animals, medicine and the stuff I'd packed to come to the hospital that I never used, home, and I was put to bed, where I'm happy to report I slept just great! Woke up to a considerable amount of pain, but took more pain killers and repeated the process.
More later about the week after, tonight I have to go see the oncologist for the final verdict and will let you know what she says in my next post.
Next: To chemo or not to chemo, that is the question.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The Clock is Ticking!
Well, tomorrow is zero hour. My surgery is tomorrow at 7:30 am. I have to be there at 5:30 am. They won't need anything to put me to sleep, since I won't be awake, anyway. I do have a bit more to catch you all up, though. Especially the pretty amusing story of my MRI. Let's see if I can condense some of the rest of the back story and get everything up to date, because it may be a few days before I can write again.
*******
So, when I last talked to you, they'd found the cancer and although I was having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I actually had cancer, I was confident I could handle having a lumpectomy, a short period of radiation and then I could move on with my life. As I said in the last blog, life was not done with the surprises.
I met with the oncologist who told me they wanted to do an MRI because an MRI can see things the mammogram can't see. They told me sometimes the MRI can actually detect things that really are nothing or are not even there, but it's a good diagnostic tool.
Let me preface the rest of my story by saying if you had any dignity before all this, be assured you will have none by the end. Trust me.
The day of my MRI I went in and once again sat in the general waiting room. I was called into the back by a man named Joe. Great, I thought, I just had to have a guy as my technician. However, Joe was wonderful. He was very nice and really knew how to put me at my ease. He put an IV tube in and when all was said and done he told me that he could now tell me that he hated needles so he knew how I felt.
He left me alone to change after telling me I needed to take off everything but my underwear and my socks and shoes. Then he gave me two stickers he told me had to be put over my nipples. These stickers, mind you, had little yellow plastic balls on the end. Seriously?!?!?!
So, picture if you will, me in my socks, shoes, underwear, medical gown (not lavender this time) and my pasties. See above comment about dignity.
I was taken into the room with the MRI machine (is that what you call it?) in it. The idea is you lie down face first, with your face in one of those rings you use when you get a massage. There is a strap between your breasts, and your boobages, if I may call them that, hang down. With the little yellow beads on the end. Fabulous. Then you go feet first into the tube with your arms over your head like a diver. I felt like I was about to be shot out of a cannon.
When the actual procedure is done the machine is very loud, but it makes kind of a rhythmic repeating sound and once or twice I dozed off. There must have been a speaker in there because occasionally Joe would say, "Are you doing okay?" and I'd wake up. You are lying on your rib cage, which is not very comfortable and makes breathing difficult. At the end they put the contrast into your IV tube and finally I was done.
The platform I was lying on slid out of the tube (so, not shot out, eh?) and the nurse unhooked my IV. She said: "There's no graceful way to get up from there." No kidding. I was allowed to get dressed and leave.
The idea is that if the MRI doesn't see anything else besides the original mass, it's all good. If it does see something the radiologist thinks needs inspecting, it's another biopsy.
Well, it saw something. Something the radiologist thought was significant, so it was back for another biopsy. Again, when I looked up there was that panel with the flowers with the black centers. They did the biopsy again. I have to say the staff wherever I went for my cancer was always so nice and helpful. I can't imagine having impersonal medical care where I felt like I was just a faceless number.
Two days later they called me to tell me the second mass was cancer as well. Great. My oncologist told me that when it's more than one mass, and it's the kind of cancer I have they would prefer to do a mastectomy instead of a lumpectomy. This was a bigger and more bitter pill to swallow. When I saw the radiologist, he put it in perspective for me. He said that while it was important to preserve my breast, it was far more important to save my life.
Okay, so, a much bigger mountain to climb, but I was confident I'd get to the other side and it would be okay--eventually.
Before the surgery could be scheduled, they wanted me to go see the plastic surgeon to talk reconstruction. It was a doctor I'd had a procedure with before and I liked her very much. When I went to see her, she showed me a whole book of the breasts she'd reconstructed and told me the different scenarios for each patient. I have to say, they can do great reconstruction now that looks like nothing has been done at all. I talked to her about a possible "upgrade" and she said yes, we could certainly do that. Making lemonade out of lemons. That's me.
Then she said she'd read my report and there was some indication my left breast might at some point have a flare-up of cancer as well. She suggested I might consider a bi-lateral mastectomy. That's taking both breasts off. Intellectually and logically I knew that this was probably the smart thing to do, and at the time I agreed.
This was on a Friday. I cried all weekend. Totally freaked out. The thing that bugged me the most is she said my breasts would be completely numb. I don't know why this is the thing that bothered me the most, but it was. I finally talked to a good friend who told me it is my body and I need to make the decisions. Right. I needed to hear that.
I decided I would just do my right breast and not deal with the other until it becomes a problem. Maybe this is not the right decision, but I just couldn't do it.
On Monday morning I called Evelyn, my oncologist's nurse and told her what I'd decided. I told her I could NOT face taking both my breasts off. She was very understanding and sympathetic and said she would let everyone concerned know my decision. I felt much better after that.
On Monday they called me to tell me my surgery had been scheduled for Thursday. Again with the Mondays and Thursdays. Wow, I thought, that's soon. After all my griping about wanting it to get scheduled so we could get on with this, I felt a little panic when I found out.
I was scheduled to go back to the plastic surgeon and have her mark me up on Tuesday. They gave me a purple pen to keep the marks she made clear. They can fade in the shower. She told me not to add anything. Ha. Like what? A rose or something? Maybe a target? After my shower on Wednesday I fought the urge to get all artistic on myself and re-did my marks--and got purple ink all over my fingers and up one wrist. Lovely.
I went in for all my pre-op appointments and met with the insurance people, had a pre-op physical, met with the surgeon's nurse, who was really great and helpful, and then went down to get fitted for a camisole and bra with pockets in them for the inserts I will wear until I get reconstruction. If I don't have to have chemo or radiation, the reconstruction will be done in two months. If I do have to have chemo or radiation it won't be until this summer. The woman I talked to in the shop that sold the bras and inserts told me to come back and talk to her when I find out what the game plan is. For now I have something to wear so I don't look lopsided, thank goodness.
So, tomorrow is the surgery. I am pretty nervous, but I have to keep my mind on the fact that this is something that will ultimately save my life.
I will talk to all of you when I'm up and about again. *Deep Breath* Here we go. Wish me luck.
*******
So, when I last talked to you, they'd found the cancer and although I was having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I actually had cancer, I was confident I could handle having a lumpectomy, a short period of radiation and then I could move on with my life. As I said in the last blog, life was not done with the surprises.
I met with the oncologist who told me they wanted to do an MRI because an MRI can see things the mammogram can't see. They told me sometimes the MRI can actually detect things that really are nothing or are not even there, but it's a good diagnostic tool.
Let me preface the rest of my story by saying if you had any dignity before all this, be assured you will have none by the end. Trust me.
The day of my MRI I went in and once again sat in the general waiting room. I was called into the back by a man named Joe. Great, I thought, I just had to have a guy as my technician. However, Joe was wonderful. He was very nice and really knew how to put me at my ease. He put an IV tube in and when all was said and done he told me that he could now tell me that he hated needles so he knew how I felt.
He left me alone to change after telling me I needed to take off everything but my underwear and my socks and shoes. Then he gave me two stickers he told me had to be put over my nipples. These stickers, mind you, had little yellow plastic balls on the end. Seriously?!?!?!
So, picture if you will, me in my socks, shoes, underwear, medical gown (not lavender this time) and my pasties. See above comment about dignity.
I was taken into the room with the MRI machine (is that what you call it?) in it. The idea is you lie down face first, with your face in one of those rings you use when you get a massage. There is a strap between your breasts, and your boobages, if I may call them that, hang down. With the little yellow beads on the end. Fabulous. Then you go feet first into the tube with your arms over your head like a diver. I felt like I was about to be shot out of a cannon.
When the actual procedure is done the machine is very loud, but it makes kind of a rhythmic repeating sound and once or twice I dozed off. There must have been a speaker in there because occasionally Joe would say, "Are you doing okay?" and I'd wake up. You are lying on your rib cage, which is not very comfortable and makes breathing difficult. At the end they put the contrast into your IV tube and finally I was done.
The platform I was lying on slid out of the tube (so, not shot out, eh?) and the nurse unhooked my IV. She said: "There's no graceful way to get up from there." No kidding. I was allowed to get dressed and leave.
The idea is that if the MRI doesn't see anything else besides the original mass, it's all good. If it does see something the radiologist thinks needs inspecting, it's another biopsy.
Well, it saw something. Something the radiologist thought was significant, so it was back for another biopsy. Again, when I looked up there was that panel with the flowers with the black centers. They did the biopsy again. I have to say the staff wherever I went for my cancer was always so nice and helpful. I can't imagine having impersonal medical care where I felt like I was just a faceless number.
Two days later they called me to tell me the second mass was cancer as well. Great. My oncologist told me that when it's more than one mass, and it's the kind of cancer I have they would prefer to do a mastectomy instead of a lumpectomy. This was a bigger and more bitter pill to swallow. When I saw the radiologist, he put it in perspective for me. He said that while it was important to preserve my breast, it was far more important to save my life.
Okay, so, a much bigger mountain to climb, but I was confident I'd get to the other side and it would be okay--eventually.
Before the surgery could be scheduled, they wanted me to go see the plastic surgeon to talk reconstruction. It was a doctor I'd had a procedure with before and I liked her very much. When I went to see her, she showed me a whole book of the breasts she'd reconstructed and told me the different scenarios for each patient. I have to say, they can do great reconstruction now that looks like nothing has been done at all. I talked to her about a possible "upgrade" and she said yes, we could certainly do that. Making lemonade out of lemons. That's me.
Then she said she'd read my report and there was some indication my left breast might at some point have a flare-up of cancer as well. She suggested I might consider a bi-lateral mastectomy. That's taking both breasts off. Intellectually and logically I knew that this was probably the smart thing to do, and at the time I agreed.
This was on a Friday. I cried all weekend. Totally freaked out. The thing that bugged me the most is she said my breasts would be completely numb. I don't know why this is the thing that bothered me the most, but it was. I finally talked to a good friend who told me it is my body and I need to make the decisions. Right. I needed to hear that.
I decided I would just do my right breast and not deal with the other until it becomes a problem. Maybe this is not the right decision, but I just couldn't do it.
On Monday morning I called Evelyn, my oncologist's nurse and told her what I'd decided. I told her I could NOT face taking both my breasts off. She was very understanding and sympathetic and said she would let everyone concerned know my decision. I felt much better after that.
On Monday they called me to tell me my surgery had been scheduled for Thursday. Again with the Mondays and Thursdays. Wow, I thought, that's soon. After all my griping about wanting it to get scheduled so we could get on with this, I felt a little panic when I found out.
I was scheduled to go back to the plastic surgeon and have her mark me up on Tuesday. They gave me a purple pen to keep the marks she made clear. They can fade in the shower. She told me not to add anything. Ha. Like what? A rose or something? Maybe a target? After my shower on Wednesday I fought the urge to get all artistic on myself and re-did my marks--and got purple ink all over my fingers and up one wrist. Lovely.
I went in for all my pre-op appointments and met with the insurance people, had a pre-op physical, met with the surgeon's nurse, who was really great and helpful, and then went down to get fitted for a camisole and bra with pockets in them for the inserts I will wear until I get reconstruction. If I don't have to have chemo or radiation, the reconstruction will be done in two months. If I do have to have chemo or radiation it won't be until this summer. The woman I talked to in the shop that sold the bras and inserts told me to come back and talk to her when I find out what the game plan is. For now I have something to wear so I don't look lopsided, thank goodness.
So, tomorrow is the surgery. I am pretty nervous, but I have to keep my mind on the fact that this is something that will ultimately save my life.
I will talk to all of you when I'm up and about again. *Deep Breath* Here we go. Wish me luck.
Monday, February 22, 2010
The Ladies of the Lavendar Gowns
Wow, I need to get you all caught up with everything QUICKLY! I got a call today that my surgery is THIS THURSDAY! *Gulp!*
***Continued from post one:
So, the next Thursday, after much stewing about the possibility of having cancer, I went for my second mammogram. We are very lucky in this are to have the Mills Breast Cancer Institute, which is fairly new. I worked half a day, and then went over for my appointment. After waiting in the general waiting area for a few minutes, I was called back to a more private area. I was taken to a dressing room and told to undress from the waist up and put on a lavendar gown that opened in the front. I was also given some wipes to take off any deodorant I was wearing. Apparently it interferes with the mammogram.
I was then led to another room that is just for the women waiting for mammograms or other procedures. I was one of about five women there and we all had the matching lavendar gowns. I wondered why the gowns weren't pink. Isn't that the breast cancer prevention color? Pink? Anyway, it was very quiet in the room. I noticed the other women were hesitant to meet anyone else's eye and there was no talking.
I was supposed to get the mammogram and have them tell me it was nothing, get dressed, and go back to work. It didn't turn out that way. Instead, I had my mammogram and was told to go back to the waiting room and they would let me know if I needed to undergo a further sonogram. I noticed a couple of the ladies in the room with me were told they could get dressed and go. I wasn't so lucky. I was told to wait because I was indeed going to have a sonogram. Great. This didn't sound good to me.
I was taken back to a room where I was told to lie on my back on a table while the technician got things prepared. I looked up and in the panel for the fluorescent light there was a lovely beach scene to look at. It was very peaceful and it looked warm, something very welcome to me in the middle of a Midwest winter. T, the technician, put some cold gel on me, then started the sonogram. I noticed she would pause now and again and look at something on the screen, but it was angled so I couldn't see what she was doing or what she was looking at, so I looked at my beach scene and imagined I was there. *Sigh*
She finally wiped the gel off of me and told me I could go get dressed. I got my clothes out of the locker, got dressed and left.
In the next few days I got a call that, yes, there was definitely something there and I needed to come back in for a needle biopsy. It was at this point I pretty much made up my mind this was cancer. There was still the possibility that it was not, but I was almost sure it was. I was not that upset. My mother had a lumpectomy, a short time with radiation and that was it. I figured I'd do the same. I just had to get through this and eveything would be okay. If I had to, I could do this.
I went back for the biopsy on a Thursday. I remember this because it seems everything with this diagnosis has been Mondays and Thursdays. Today is Monday. they called to tell me my surgery is Thursday. Go figure.
I had the biopsy in the same room as the sonogram. Once again it was back to the private waiting room and the lavendar gown. My mother, bless her, went with me for moral support. This time the library quietness was broken by an elderly woman who told the room in general that this was her third mammogram in less than a month and if this one hurt as much as the others "they can keep it!"
They took me back to the sono room. As I entered, on the screen was a sono film with a large mass on it, about the size of a dime. I stopped in my tracks, pointed and said, "Is that me?" I must have sounded a little alarmed because they hurried to assure me that although this was my film, they had enlarged it quite a bit so they could see it. In reality my "mass" was less than a centimeter. *Phew*
Lying back on the table, I noticed my beach scene was gone, replaced by a scene of a bunch of drawn flowers. Very colorful. The problem was, each flower had a small black dot at its center about the size of a pea. To me these were too reminiscent of the black dot on my film. I wanted my beach scene back!
The female doctor, Dr. C, came in and started the procedure. She gave me two shots with very large needles. Needles in the breast are really no fun. Imagine. It hurt quite a bit, but then the area was numbed and she used the sonogram screen to find the mass. At this point I could only feel pressure, no pain, until she moved to a different spot and then--OW! They had to give me more juice to numb the pain and we continued. The actual taking of the specimen was interesting. It sounded like fingernail clippers when they snipped a portion. This was done several times and I wondered how much could be left? Maybe they'd snipped all of it out and I could be done? No such luck.
I had to wait the weekend for the results and then I had an appointment with my GP for her to go over everything with me. On Monday (again), I went in, with mom in tow, to find out what I thought I already knew. Dr. B, whom I just love, came in and sat down and said matter-of-factly, "Well, we have a problem." As in, Houston, we have a problem. I told her that was what I figured. She seemed a little surprised that I thought that, but told me I was facing surgery and possibly radiation and chemo, but we wouldn't know about either of those until after the surgery, which would most likely be a lumpectomy since they had caught my cancer so early. Okay, I figured I was prepeared for that.
To Be Continued. Next, More surprises to come
***Continued from post one:
So, the next Thursday, after much stewing about the possibility of having cancer, I went for my second mammogram. We are very lucky in this are to have the Mills Breast Cancer Institute, which is fairly new. I worked half a day, and then went over for my appointment. After waiting in the general waiting area for a few minutes, I was called back to a more private area. I was taken to a dressing room and told to undress from the waist up and put on a lavendar gown that opened in the front. I was also given some wipes to take off any deodorant I was wearing. Apparently it interferes with the mammogram.
I was then led to another room that is just for the women waiting for mammograms or other procedures. I was one of about five women there and we all had the matching lavendar gowns. I wondered why the gowns weren't pink. Isn't that the breast cancer prevention color? Pink? Anyway, it was very quiet in the room. I noticed the other women were hesitant to meet anyone else's eye and there was no talking.
I was supposed to get the mammogram and have them tell me it was nothing, get dressed, and go back to work. It didn't turn out that way. Instead, I had my mammogram and was told to go back to the waiting room and they would let me know if I needed to undergo a further sonogram. I noticed a couple of the ladies in the room with me were told they could get dressed and go. I wasn't so lucky. I was told to wait because I was indeed going to have a sonogram. Great. This didn't sound good to me.
I was taken back to a room where I was told to lie on my back on a table while the technician got things prepared. I looked up and in the panel for the fluorescent light there was a lovely beach scene to look at. It was very peaceful and it looked warm, something very welcome to me in the middle of a Midwest winter. T, the technician, put some cold gel on me, then started the sonogram. I noticed she would pause now and again and look at something on the screen, but it was angled so I couldn't see what she was doing or what she was looking at, so I looked at my beach scene and imagined I was there. *Sigh*
She finally wiped the gel off of me and told me I could go get dressed. I got my clothes out of the locker, got dressed and left.
In the next few days I got a call that, yes, there was definitely something there and I needed to come back in for a needle biopsy. It was at this point I pretty much made up my mind this was cancer. There was still the possibility that it was not, but I was almost sure it was. I was not that upset. My mother had a lumpectomy, a short time with radiation and that was it. I figured I'd do the same. I just had to get through this and eveything would be okay. If I had to, I could do this.
I went back for the biopsy on a Thursday. I remember this because it seems everything with this diagnosis has been Mondays and Thursdays. Today is Monday. they called to tell me my surgery is Thursday. Go figure.
I had the biopsy in the same room as the sonogram. Once again it was back to the private waiting room and the lavendar gown. My mother, bless her, went with me for moral support. This time the library quietness was broken by an elderly woman who told the room in general that this was her third mammogram in less than a month and if this one hurt as much as the others "they can keep it!"
They took me back to the sono room. As I entered, on the screen was a sono film with a large mass on it, about the size of a dime. I stopped in my tracks, pointed and said, "Is that me?" I must have sounded a little alarmed because they hurried to assure me that although this was my film, they had enlarged it quite a bit so they could see it. In reality my "mass" was less than a centimeter. *Phew*
Lying back on the table, I noticed my beach scene was gone, replaced by a scene of a bunch of drawn flowers. Very colorful. The problem was, each flower had a small black dot at its center about the size of a pea. To me these were too reminiscent of the black dot on my film. I wanted my beach scene back!
The female doctor, Dr. C, came in and started the procedure. She gave me two shots with very large needles. Needles in the breast are really no fun. Imagine. It hurt quite a bit, but then the area was numbed and she used the sonogram screen to find the mass. At this point I could only feel pressure, no pain, until she moved to a different spot and then--OW! They had to give me more juice to numb the pain and we continued. The actual taking of the specimen was interesting. It sounded like fingernail clippers when they snipped a portion. This was done several times and I wondered how much could be left? Maybe they'd snipped all of it out and I could be done? No such luck.
I had to wait the weekend for the results and then I had an appointment with my GP for her to go over everything with me. On Monday (again), I went in, with mom in tow, to find out what I thought I already knew. Dr. B, whom I just love, came in and sat down and said matter-of-factly, "Well, we have a problem." As in, Houston, we have a problem. I told her that was what I figured. She seemed a little surprised that I thought that, but told me I was facing surgery and possibly radiation and chemo, but we wouldn't know about either of those until after the surgery, which would most likely be a lumpectomy since they had caught my cancer so early. Okay, I figured I was prepeared for that.
To Be Continued. Next, More surprises to come
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Catching up with everything
So, a lot has happened to me in less than a month since I found out I had breast cancer. What I want to do with this blog is let readers know my thoughts and emotions as I go through this journey, and hopefully I can take you to the point where I am finally finished with the whole thing and am celebrating moving on with my life-- but I'm getting ahead of myself. WAAAY ahead of myself. This is still all pretty new to me and I have a long way to go.
The thoughts and ideas expressed are not neccesarily those of this station, in other words, I don't claim to know and feel what other women go through, I can only tell you what I am thinking and feeling. Actually, sometimes I don't really KNOW what I'm thinking and feeling or even what I'm SUPPOSED to be thinking and feeling. I still haven't completely come to grips with the whole thing, as you might imagine.
I have a lot of catching up to do with you before I'm writing in real time, but I plan on trying to do that as quickly as possible. I will also go into my own personal, unique ways of coping with all this. Again, this is my gig, and not necessarily recommended for others. I will tell you I alternate between being superwoman, dealing with all of this logically and intellectually, to being a snivelling coward.
Oh, I should mention that in December I took on the guardianship of a 17-year old. Her name is Kara and she is living with me until she goes away to college at the end of August. Then this all came up. Yes, my life has become a Lifetime movie.
A little about me. I just turned 50 on August 1, of 2009. I have never married and have no children, but strange as it may sound, I still have hopes of meeting Mr. Right someday. He's late, but better late than never, I guess. *Ahem.* I live in East Central Illinois and this has been a truly cruddy winter.
As for the cancer thing, I will start at the beginning. On Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr's birthday, January 18, 2010, I had a physical with my GP, whom I will call Dr. B. I was kicking myself because I had forgotten this was a day off from work and had scheduled my physical for 7:30 in the morning! No sleeping in for me. Kara had to have a fasting blood test, so she went with me that morning. We both grumbled about getting up so early on a day off, but I promised I'd take her out to breakfast after.
The physical went just fine, and toward the end of it, after I had gotten dressed again, Dr. B. mentioned I'd missed my mammogram last year. Both my mother and my aunt, her sister, had breast cancer, so I started getting mammograms early and every year. I had somehow missed last year's and had not had one since 2008. Dr. B. said I should go out before I left and schedule one as soon as they had an opening. Luckily, they had a cancellation at 1:25 that day so I wouldn't have to arrange for more time off work.
Kara and I had a coupon so we went to IHOP for breakfast. It was fun and tasty and the waitress called me Kara's mom, something I am still getting used to. We just gave each other silly grins and didn't correct her.
Later I went and had my mammogram. As most women would agree, mammograms are no fun (I always think there HAS to be a better way!), but better safe than sorry, I always thought. I've had a lot of them, and none have ever come back abnormal, so I wasn't really expecting anything.
Life went on. Then on Thursday, I came home for lunch and my answering maching was blinking. It was the cancer center. Oh oh. The mammographer said something had shown up on my films. She assured me "it could be nothing." A fold of skin, a shadow, but they wanted to make sure. I had to come back in for another mammogram and possibly a sonogram.
To be continued. Next: All of us women in lavendar gowns.
The thoughts and ideas expressed are not neccesarily those of this station, in other words, I don't claim to know and feel what other women go through, I can only tell you what I am thinking and feeling. Actually, sometimes I don't really KNOW what I'm thinking and feeling or even what I'm SUPPOSED to be thinking and feeling. I still haven't completely come to grips with the whole thing, as you might imagine.
I have a lot of catching up to do with you before I'm writing in real time, but I plan on trying to do that as quickly as possible. I will also go into my own personal, unique ways of coping with all this. Again, this is my gig, and not necessarily recommended for others. I will tell you I alternate between being superwoman, dealing with all of this logically and intellectually, to being a snivelling coward.
Oh, I should mention that in December I took on the guardianship of a 17-year old. Her name is Kara and she is living with me until she goes away to college at the end of August. Then this all came up. Yes, my life has become a Lifetime movie.
A little about me. I just turned 50 on August 1, of 2009. I have never married and have no children, but strange as it may sound, I still have hopes of meeting Mr. Right someday. He's late, but better late than never, I guess. *Ahem.* I live in East Central Illinois and this has been a truly cruddy winter.
As for the cancer thing, I will start at the beginning. On Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr's birthday, January 18, 2010, I had a physical with my GP, whom I will call Dr. B. I was kicking myself because I had forgotten this was a day off from work and had scheduled my physical for 7:30 in the morning! No sleeping in for me. Kara had to have a fasting blood test, so she went with me that morning. We both grumbled about getting up so early on a day off, but I promised I'd take her out to breakfast after.
The physical went just fine, and toward the end of it, after I had gotten dressed again, Dr. B. mentioned I'd missed my mammogram last year. Both my mother and my aunt, her sister, had breast cancer, so I started getting mammograms early and every year. I had somehow missed last year's and had not had one since 2008. Dr. B. said I should go out before I left and schedule one as soon as they had an opening. Luckily, they had a cancellation at 1:25 that day so I wouldn't have to arrange for more time off work.
Kara and I had a coupon so we went to IHOP for breakfast. It was fun and tasty and the waitress called me Kara's mom, something I am still getting used to. We just gave each other silly grins and didn't correct her.
Later I went and had my mammogram. As most women would agree, mammograms are no fun (I always think there HAS to be a better way!), but better safe than sorry, I always thought. I've had a lot of them, and none have ever come back abnormal, so I wasn't really expecting anything.
Life went on. Then on Thursday, I came home for lunch and my answering maching was blinking. It was the cancer center. Oh oh. The mammographer said something had shown up on my films. She assured me "it could be nothing." A fold of skin, a shadow, but they wanted to make sure. I had to come back in for another mammogram and possibly a sonogram.
To be continued. Next: All of us women in lavendar gowns.
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