Oh, crap! I just read a Facebook post from "The Pink Ribbon" folks that a woman dies from breast cancer every 15 minutes! I hate reading stuff like that. Most of the time, these days, I don't think much about having had cancer, but something always reminds me. Earlier today, I sat next to a woman in the Infusion Center who told me that this was her third round with breast cancer! Had it in 1999, 2004 and now! Bless her heart for fighting the good fight but I didn't need to hear that either. Maybe I just need to turn my thinking around. I need to thank my luck stars, the beneficent gods and all the other spirits out there. I am HEALTHY and strong and grateful to be reminded of that very important fact!

Last year...

Yesterday, it had been one year since I found out from Dr Rhonda Fishel that I had Stage 3A breast cancer. A few days ago, I had another PET/CT scan. Unlike the nasty looking one from last year, this one was clean! No cancer to be seen on the scan!
What a year it's been. Physically, it's been the worst year of my life. Emotional, it ranks right up there with the worst I've had. I was sick from chemotherapy, mutilated by surgery and burned by radiation therapy. But, I'm am so, so very grateful for all of the treatment because it brought me where I am now. A one-year cancer survivor!
I lost my Dad and a brother-in-law to cancer. Both of them never really recovered from their treatment. Their year was a steady downhill until they finally passed on. The end of my story is so very different. I am very blessed...

Get a Mammo Reminder !

The American Cancer Society offers a free reminder tool for your mammogram. They'll send you a message when it's time to have a mammo. Here's the link:

http://acsremindme.com/hma/modify_subscription.php?CID=288

As someone who put off her mammogram until it was almost too late, I highly recommend it! If you are going to get breast cancer, wouldn't you rather know it when you are in Stage 0 rather than in Stage 3 like me? Please, my darling friends, try this tool. I love you too much not to pass this on!

              As I sit here writing this blog entry, Bruce Cockburn's "You've Never Seen Everything" is blaring out of the stereo, filling up my house. I love it! I haven't played music like this for months and months and today it feels good. Although the physical healing from cancer treatment is almost completely done, the spiritual healing takes a little longer. Cancer is a bully that bruises your soul. It mauls your confidence. It takes your psyche out in the back alley and stomps on it. It is all-consuming to the point that you can lose yourself for a while and forget some of the things that make you happy. But, the spirit is strong in us humans. Mine is resurrecting. Hope is back.

It's just amazing that, given everything I've been through this year, I feel so normal! It just boggles my mind - the enormity of it all. Diagnosis, chemotherapy, surgery, surgery again and radiation therapy. Except for missing my boobs, I feel exactly the same as I did last year. Impressive! Go figure, though...

The leaves did it.

One thing cancer has taught me is that life is very precious! Of course, our own lives are precious and so are the lives of the people we love. But, the world is also very beautiful and precious. For me, it increasingly seems well worth the effort to try to be in the moment and enjoy and appreciate the world around me. It would be tragic for anyone, with or without cancer, to realize this on their last day! Better to learn to see beauty and find joy sooner rather than later.
In that spirit I offer this observation; it's sort-of  'practice' for being more in the world.
On the way home from work today, the trees were beautiful. This fall has been a good one and today the yellow, orange, red and brown leaves were shimmering in the golden afternoon sunlight. It was that time of day, 3:30pm, when the light slants a bit and increases the depth of field. Looking all around at this beautiful stuff made me feel good and made me so much nicer to other drivers. There are perfectly good human beings encased in all that metal, glass and plastic! Maybe I managed to pass on my good mood in some way...

When I pulled off the hospital parking lot the other day, I had to pay full price for parking. That's a sure sign that things are getting back to normal for me. No more frequent flyer discount for parking! Yay (sort of)!

The P**p on P**p for Ladies

Well, I didn't want to say 'poop' out loud in public, so I used the asterisks. But now that you're reading this I can tell you that I found out something about pooping, and being regular, that I just had to share with my girlfriends. I do like to use my little forum for the occasional public service announcement. And here it is: The secret to daily pooping is - Prune Juice! I am not kidding! Prune juice! I felt like a senior citizen (not that I have anything against senior citizens) buying PJ at the Giant. I might as well be buying Geritol, I thought. I guess if you can remember Geritol, you really might be a senior citizen. I'll let the young folks google it.

Anyhoo, my wonderful, wonderful psychiatrist, Dr Lois Conn, recommended PJ years ago but I hadn't tried it til now because, well, it's for old people! But, with all the procedures and drugs I've been having this year, I needed some help in the pooping department. Most of the drugs that I've had to take, and it's been so many, lists 'constipation' as one of the side effects, so I broke down and bought a bottle. I have to tell you, it doesn't taste real great. I prefer OJ. But, oh wow, does it work! Fortunately, I happened to read about drinking PJ for regularity just before I started drinking it. It was recommended to start out with a small glass of PJ, instead of the extra large size drink that most of us seem to have these days. It's a good thing that I only drink about 1/3 cup each morning because otherwise, I would be in the bathroom too much. It's that effective!

I'm sorry if this sounds like a Sunsweet commercial but I really, really like the idea that PJ is natural. It's not a chemical laxative nor is it an artificial bowel stimulant. It's also got lots of fiber, and not the added cellulose kind found in those fiber drinks.

So, let the young folks laugh when they look in my fridge and see PJ in there. I poop like a man these days - ie. each and every day - and I love it!

Park Visit

A while back, David and I took a bike ride to the nearby watershed. On the way, we passed through the Richard & Annette Bloch Cancer Survivors Park. It has a lot more meaning for me now, seeing as how I am a cancer survivor! The figures behind me represent newly diagnosed cancer patients who are scared and confused. Those in front of me depict the survivors, happy and cancer-free. (Well, they look happier in person, I'm sure!)

Last Radiation Therapy Today!

Hey, today was my very last Radiation Therapy treatment! Yay! I still have Herceptin infusions every three weeks until March. Three months from now, I will look at my reconstruction options, so I have to take extra good care of my skin and get all my range-of-motion back. But we are finished with the big guns - chemo, surgery and now radiation!

RT really takes over your life. Treatments are every day, Monday through Friday. Gradually, I noticed more side effects over time. I have some burned skin and a few blisters. The burns are sort of like a bad sunburn, except deeper and darker. I guess the burn is more intense because of the daily exposure.

I think that my effects from treatment are just right. If the treatment was stronger, I might have had to take a break from radiation. The very nice, very friendly woman who had her treatment in the time slot before mine had to take two breaks because her skin was highly reactive and blistered badly.

If my treatment was weaker, I might not have been burned at all but also might not have gotten maximum benefit. All my life, I have had few sunburns and did not tan very easily. Kind of funny since I'm so pale but that's how I roll. This skin attribute protected me during Radiation Therapy and allowed me to get zapped nice and strong - just how I wanted it!

I have been so very lucky, all the way through all of the various procedures and treatments that I've had. Each one has defintely had it's challenges, but my nice, strong, healthy body came through each time and everything has been very effective. I'm hoping that this means a lower possibility of recurrence cause I do not want to go through any of it ever again!

Not tired, just lazy!?

I am almost done with Radiation Therapy. Two more treatments to go; Monday and Tuesday. If you see me with my arms akimbo, I'm not signifying anything. I have some burns under my left arm from the radiation. Feels better with my hand on my hip, with my arm away from my body. The burns are relatively minor and so are the blisters on my back. The radiation therapists and the docs are very careful and are always checking on me. It seems that I continue to be very lucky and, although I have some reactions and problems with treatment, it's no big thing. A dose of ibuprofen and some high-test moisturizer and I'm good to go.

The biggest side effect they warned me about with Radiation Therapy was fatigue. I can't say that I'm particularly tired. I'm just so not motivated to do anything. I feel like I could sit on my favorite chair (in front of the computer) until the house falls down around me. People say I'm entitled to do just that, but I just feel so lazy...

Rad Tx and friends

So, ten radiation treatments done; 15 to go. They are very easy now. Actually, except for the social aspect, they are kind of boring. Arrive; change into a gown; wait; go to the treatment room; climb up on the treatment table; assume the position; therapists check table position and leave the room; first treatment - radiate radiate radiate radiate; therapists return to set up next position; second treatment - radiate radiate radiate radiate; set up for third position; third treatment - radiate radiate radiate radiate; position for last treatment; radiate radiate radiate radiate! The treatment takes about 20 minutes. I usually fall asleep. When not asleep, I visualize; usually the sun beaming down on a tree canopy, bringing life. Seems powerful.

I do get to meet new people who are experiencing the same thing. I spend time in the waiting room, visiting with new friends that I see every day who have the time slot before and after me. I guess it's the shared experience. We are becoming close and I'll miss them when I'm done!

Wah, wah!

May I gripe a little about how my time is used these days? I have so many medical and cancer-related appointments. Radiation Therapy every day, Monday through Friday. Herceptin treatments every three weeks. Blood tests every other week. Surgical follow-up visits. Medical Oncologist appointments, Radiation Oncologist appointments, etc. etc. Now, don't get me wrong, I am so very grateful for and appreciative of all of the treatments and care that I am getting. It's all keeping me alive and healthy and I love it. I'm just getting tired. Seems like I don't have many uninterrupted hours. Hours uninterrupted by a trip to Sinai. It kind of reminds me, a little, of when Olivia was very small. You get small parcels of time when your kids are little. An hour here, two hours there. Then it's time to care for the little angels again. That was a wonderful time and I love Olivia and her brother Alex so, so much that taking care of them was a pleasure. They were (and are) precious and adorable and very, very dear. Not so for cancer. I loathe the cancer. I despise it. If I could I would smack it right in the face. Squash the living daylights out of it. I would love to hook it up to the bumper of my car and drag it up and down York Road until it's a bloody mess. But I can't. So, instead, I offer myself up to the wonderful folks at Sinai to bash the cancer for me. Often.

Radiation Tx the First

Had my first Radiation Therapy treatment last week. All I have to say is: Ouch! It was hard to have my arms up over my head for one hour and twenty minutes. There were tears, but I held still and we did some good work. The therapists and physicist were working very hard for me. They were very skilled and compassionate. The reason why it took so long is because there is so much set-up and planning involved in the first treatment. Subsequent treatments will be much shorter. Maybe fifteen minutes. Whew! I was grateful once again that my body is strong and my recovery is good. I really thought that I was doing some damage that would hurt later. But, nothing hurt later.

While I was lying there, I decided to write a reminder for my female friends and relatives: Do your monthly self-exam!! Get regular mammograms!! Please! Had I not neglected self exams, because I was too afraid, and put off my last mammogram, because I was 'too busy', I might not have been laying on that cold slab having my arms pulled off. So, do those exams and get that mammo. Guys, remind the women that you love to do these things. Tell them Jane made you do it, if necessary!

More About Hockins

A hilarious addendum to last night's post about the bill from Hopkins for the Breast Cancer Clinical Trial interview. I opened a letter received in the mail from them. They want me to contribute to the "Fund for Johns Hopkins Medicine"! Oh, the irony. I can't stop laughing...

A Raw Deal

I have given up the fight with Johns Hopkins. On Aug 16, I blogged about my experience with trying to enter a Breast Cancer Clinical Trial at Hopkins. I had received a bill for almost $400.00 and was upset that it could cost me money to participate in a trial. I mean, who ever heard of paying money to be in a drug regimen trial? I hadn't, but apparently I'm behind the curve. I called and called Hopkins. The Billing Dept, the Outpatient Medical office, and Dr Emens herself, twice. Dr Emens was just emphatic that the interview she gave me earlier in the month was billable to my insurance and that whatever portion of the bill not paid by my insurance was up to me to pay. She told me that this was standard practice, that all her interviews for the trial were billable. This was new to me but, as I said, I am out of the loop. Sometime in the last 15 years, doctors and medical institutions starting billing insurance companies for trial activities like interviews and blood tests. Surprisingly, the insurance companies pay for 'reasonable and customary' fees. And the rest is left up to the insured, just like 'real' medical care. Who knew? Still, I kept arguing with Hopkins and Dr Emens. I was not told until after the fact that I would be billed for the interview.I was billed just as if I had sought medical treatment at Hopkins, which I didn't, because I get perfectly adequate - better than adequate!, wonderful! - treatment from my docs at Sinai. Not to mention the fact that finances are tough now for us. I usually only work two days per week; quite a drop in pay! The "I can't afford this because I have cancer and have been unable to work much" excuse holds absolutely no water with anyone at Hopkins. Plus, when I told some of the story to my Oncologist, she knew the secret already - that patients now pay to be in clinical trials. So, instead of letting Hopkins send my bill to a collection agency and ruin my good credit, I pay. Not much at a time, though. I did manage to weasel them into only $10.00 per month with no interest!

A Plus!

Yay - no more binding, crushing, smashing, restrictive giant sports bras! And no extra layer to capture sweat! Just me and a t-shirt! (And pants, of course.) Ahhhh...

More surgical adventures

I had a small surgery done yesterday. The boobette is gone. The fluid and tissue that had collected in it was removed. The boobette was a seroma, or collection of fluid, under the skin following the mastectomy. My left side has healed up flat. Well, somewhat flat; there are always small puckers or bumps in the skin left behind with the scar. The seroma was on the right side. I think I did a few things after the mastectomy that might have contributed to the seroma. I didn't know that such a thing could happen, so as long as I felt capable of doing something, I did it. I think pulling weeds in the garden and doing an upper body workout at the gym didn't help. The surgical site was still healing inside and that strenuous activity may have caused more fluid to be encapsulated. The surgery I had yesterday was much, much less extensive than the mastectomies. But, this time I'm favoring my right side until the healing has really progressed. I'm even clicking the mouse with my left hand. I'm eating with my left hand also, but I've had years of practice at that. When I take a lunch break at work, I'll often do a crossword puzzle and write with my right hand while I eat with the left.

Boobette

I should write about happy things. More happy things happen than bad things. It's incredible that, even with cancer, life is still so good. I have almost no hair, but it's growing back. I have breast cancer, but the fight is going, mostly, very well. I've been through a lot, but I can still bike and do other things that I love. It's just that I have so much more to say about the crappy things that happen! I guess that's just the way people are sometimes. Get me mad and I'm off and running - at the mouth, that is. So, yeah, I'm mad right now. Mad that the 'seroma' that was a result of the right side mastectomy didn't 'just go away' as promised. It never even began going away. I have had a 'boobette' on my right side since the surgery. I will concede that the surgeon did a good job. That , being aware of my future plan to explore reconstructive surgery one day, a little extra skin was left behind. It was probably just happenstance that the seroma, the boobette, never resorbed. Now, though, the thing is infected! That's right, infected. The right side of my chest is the color of a deep blush and I'm on antibiotics for ten days. It's messed with my range-of-motion, feels puffy and stiff and made me really mad!

It's been a while since I posted...

Oh, yes, it has been a while. Maybe because the chemo thing is over and the surgery is over and now is the time to just work on healing.
I was talking to a co-worker last week about my cancer experiences. I don't see Dave very often on the PET/CT coach so we're not as close as Kristen and I are. Plus, it's just his personality to be a little more reserved. Dave is a really nice guy; very polite and considerate. My cancer is often the elephant in the room and I could tell that he had questions but was too nice to ask them. So, at one point I told him to ask away. Having this blog and sharing so many things on it has made me willing to answer any and all inquiries. Turns out that Dave was not especially interested in the nuts and bolts of cancer - side effects, treatment plans, etc. - but in how I coped, emotionally. Boy, when the guy opens up, he's got some real probing questions! I liked it. He wanted to know how I lived with having cancer. What I thought about the future. Whether I thought about dying or being really debilitated. These are questions I've certainly grappled with but to put it into words was sort of like honing my whole philosophy about cancer. It was a good exercise for me and I thank Dave. Here's my basic answer - keep moving forward! And, assume that things will turn out great! Keep doing everything that you can possibly do to fight and be as positive as possible. Think more about all the great things you'll be doing when all the treatment is over not about what you may have lost. Because, ultimately, cancer is not something that anyone wants but it sure has given me a new outlook and I'm thrilled to have an absolute mandate now to do more and be more!

Like Getting Blood from a Turnip

A few months back, my oncologist told me about a Hopkins trial that I was a candidate for. Dr Tuica said that my cancer cell type and treatment program fit the criteria for the trial, run by a doc friend of hers. I called up the Hopkins doc and we spoke at length about what would be involved. It sounded like a big time commitment, but since this is my Year of Breast Cancer, I decided to sign up for the trial. Not only did the treatment on trial have a strong possibility to actually do me some good, but I would be doing my small bit to help advance science! So, I made an appointment and went to Hopkins. The first wrong note sounded when the folks at the registration desk asked my for my insurance information. Why would they need that? I was there for a clinical trial, not treatment. I asked, but the clerks at the desk didn't know why; they were just doing their job of not letting anyone past the portal without insurance info on record. I had my vital signs checked and some blood drawn. The investigating physician conducted a long, detailed interview and sent me home with a thick sheaf of papers. My signature was need on the informed consent document, but it was much too huge to get digested at the interview. The next step was to go home and sign all the forms, then return for some additional set-up procedures (like testing to see if I would be allergic to any of the reagents used, etc.). The second wrong note sounded during the interview. I asked, unnecessarily I thought, if this would cost me or my insurance company. The doc said that they would only bill me or my insurance company if, during the trial, they did any therapeutic medicine. I tried to pin her down a bit, to see what that meant. Sounded like no- no charges would be billed because, after all, this was a trial that I agreed to participate in out of the goodness of my heart, not a required part of my treatment. The whole issue cleared up nicely when, a few weeks later, I received a bill for $380.00 with $1,330.00 'pending'! Whoa! I had no idea that participating in a medical trial can cost you money now! I remember the day when the participant got paid a small stipend. Apparently, those days are over and the docs need your money, as well as your body, to do a trial. I called the billing department and protested and am now waiting for my 'appeal'. I think that good ole JHH will have a great deal of trouble getting any money out of me. I didn't need that stinky old trial anyway!

Hair!

Shaved my legs today for the first time since December 2009! I also have eyebrows and eyelashes again. The hair on my head has almost grown in enough to look like a hairstyle, although nobody outside the military has a hairstyle like it. I'm starting to look normal again. But, as David reminded me the other day, I'll get less sympathy with hair than when I was bald. That's OK, I glad to be getting normal again.

Some Good News For A Change

First of all, I am recovering really well from the double mastectomy I had on July 7! I went on a mountain bike ride in the woods yesterday. 'Nuff said.

Also - and this is really good - my surgeon said that, because I had such a positive response to chemotherapy, that my prognosis (my long-term survival) is getting better and better!

Last, but not least, I was told yesterday that I am an inspiration! My friend K. and I were talking on the phone. She told me that women are universally afraid of getting breast cancer. That, I knew. But she said that I am getting through all the treatment and misery in such a fine way, that she is now not quite so much afraid of it. Breast cancer is not so scary. Wow, that is so significant, so meaningful to me. Almost makes getting breast cancer worthwhile...

Blow Out, but with a happy ending!

I think I inadvertently awakened a demon. Nah, that's not true - I am, in fact, an Oxycodone addict! Well, OK, that's not it either! But, it certainly has been a wild ride around here over the past 4 days or so. Here's what happened. I was taking Percocet (Oxycodone plus Tylenol) for pain after my double mastectomy on July 7. Highly necessary to have good pain relief after that! I was also doing my physical therapy exercises, natch, and they hurt. So, for a couple of weeks I was taking Oxy round the clock, albeit a small dose. Then, about a week and a half ago, I decided that I didn't really need it anymore. Interestingly, the only pain I was having at that point was related to being stiff after being in one position for awhile. David says the stiffness is related to the adhesions that can form around a surgery site. Anyhoo, a little movement and the stiffness goes away. Voila! Not wanting to put any more chemicals in my body than necessary, I stopped taking Oxy. This past Thursday, I noticed that, emotionally, I had been feeling worse and worse even though I was feeling better physically. By Friday evening, I was in a full-blown depression. Yuck! Complete with extreme anxiety and sleeplessness. I was crying just about unendingly and scaring the heck out of everyone around me - and especially scaring myself! I had not felt this bad for 16 years, not since I was finally treated for my long-time depression. Hence the "awakening a demon" comment. It's kind of funny that not too long ago, I had mentioned that past depression in this very blog. Did speaking (writing) it's name make it come back? Well, no. Since my psychiatrist is the keeper of my equilibrium, so to speak, I dialed her up. Sure enough, it turns out that a small percentage of people need to taper carefully when stopping Oxy. Not one of my other docs told me this. Stopping sort-of quickly can cause the miserable trifecta of depression, anxiety and insomnia. She advised me to take an Oxy pill immediately and see her the next morning where she gave me a schedule for tapering. off. Within an hour or two, I felt better. So much better! I feel normal again. Not that I won't have times of sadness - not that I won't cry. I do, in fact, have some mighty things to cry about. But, I am back on the track of standard emotions which, for me, is a wonderful place to be!

Here's a tip for anyone having an upper body surgery: do your sit-ups! You need your abdominal muscles and leg muscles (especially quads) to get yourself out of bed or off the couch. Even if you are 85 years old and have never done a sit-up or a squat in your life, talk to your doctor and find out how to do some exercises that will help you be a little more independent after your surgery. If you are reading this, you are already online, so look up some moderate, beginner exercises.

After my mastectomies, I was very grateful to my stomach and leg muscles for being able to propel me out of bed without a lot of dragging and pushing from others. It really helps to not have to wait for someone to help you go to the bathroom. These are things that your surgeon will never tell you. But I am!

I always cry when I get a shock. I cry if it's a good shock, like the time Alex told me that Daria was pregnant, or when I get a bad shock like the other night when I saw myself in the mirror for the first time since the surgery. I had been scrupulously avoiding mirrors but the bathroom mirror wasn't turned to the wall as usual. Fortunately, I didn't have my glasses on and my 20/400 vision doesn't allow for sharp details. What I saw in the mirror didn't register at first. You know, when you see something awful you go "What Is That?"? Then, I screamed and started to cry and sob and wail. Instead of luscious, creamy mounds I saw a concave chest with ugly, livid purple and brown slashes. There were nebulous bumps here and there as an added feature. It's not as if I didn't know that my breasts were missing - of course I did! But, to actually see it in the mirror was shocking. Poor David was trying to comfort me and hugged me which made me cry harder because there was nothing now between his chest and mine - just air! Oh, gosh, I felt so bad. I looked like an alien, a monster! I briefly considered that, if I took all my Imipramine and all of the Oxycodone pills I could probably die without feeling anything. I'd just go to sleep and all would be over. But then I realized I'm not made that way. I could never, ever do that to Olivia and David and my sister and brother and friends. Besides, I want my tombstone to say something other than "Here Lies Jane - She Died of Vanity"! Before I was all cried out I remembered that this was by far not the worst I've ever felt. Until age 38, I had undiagnosed clinical depression. It peaked at around age nineteen and then again at 32 or so. Those times were so scary. It was frightening how unrelentingly bad I felt. Most of the time, I lived in a dark empty hole. Figuratively, of course. Voices in my head kept me awake at night sometimes. Often, there was no pleasure in lots of normal things that people enjoy and no confidence in myself. Thank goodness for modern psychiatric chemistry. For almost twenty years now the depression has been at bay and life has been good.

I will get over myself and feel better about my appearance - sometime soon. Maybe, next year, I might be able to get some reconstructive surgery. Or maybe not. My life is precious and I am so glad that, even though I have had cancer, I will go on living for a long, long time!

I'm in a good, optimistic mood today. Although, I cried hard, like a baby, twice this past week, I'm feeling good. Today, the surgeon removed the last of my 5 drains. No more external body parts to sling around! Also, the surgeon confirmed for us that the pathology results were all negative. That means that all the tissue samples and lymph nodes that got sent to the lab during my surgery had no breast cancer cells! Wow! Feels so great!

On a darker note, I have yet to look at myself in the mirror. I also do not look down when I am naked. So, I don't know what my chest looks like after the bilateral mastectomy. Of course, I have a pretty good idea! I know there are no breasts and that there must be two wounds where they used to be. But, I just can't look yet. Weird, huh?

Went to the surgeon's office today for a post-op checkup. He (Dr Effron, Dr Fishel's associate) took out 3 of the 5 drains that I came home from the hospital with. He also changed the bandages and said that everything looks good. I was so happy to get those drains removed. Now I don't have to wear the fanny pack 24/7. I can tuck the remaining two drains in the cute lil pockets in the compression camisole. I can't complain because things are going so well but it sure will be nice to have all the drains gone and smaller bandages! Right now, it feels like I have on an uncomfortable article of clothing, like an uncomfortable bra or pants or a dress that's scratchy or maybe shoes that don't fit. You know how you can't wait to get home, or even just to the car, to rip off the offending item? That's kindof how it feels with the drains and bandages. But, they'll be gone soon!

My sister-in-law asked me tonight if I knew the result of the pathology yet. I had completely forgotten that I have pending news about that! Totally slipped my mind - I guess because I already know that I have cancer and I already know that some of it is still in a lymph node on the left side. The big question to be answered is whether there is a any disease on the right side. I'm thinking there isn't, so I guess I'm just not worried about that!

Yay! It's over! Now, instead of getting anxious about my surgery, I can get busy recovering. Well, not too busy because resting is one of the most important things I have to do. I have some pain but it's controlled very nicely

A common theme on this blog turns out to be the value of human connection. I believe that, to stay healthy in our mind, we need to work and we need to have meaningful interactions with other people. Whether you believe that evolution or Divine Creation has produced these basic needs for work and friends, I think they are essential to life. Case in point - I have been anxious this past 24 hours about my impending surgery. I wasn't able to sleep last night and couldn't stop thinking about it today. It's only natural, right? It's a big surgery and a lot is riding on success. Well, I just got back home from a visit with my good friend and voila! - I feel much better! Thanks, Di! We didn't really talk a whole lot about the surgery. We talked about our kids, our lives, books we're reading, etc. Just being out and having a face-to-face conversation with someone I care about was good medicine!

Flatland

The days are dwindling down to a precious few before Wednesday - surgery day. I have this feeling that, no matter how much I think about it, I'm not going to really know in advance what my reaction will be to having no breasts. I'm not afraid of the surgery itself. I'm sure I'll wake up and be OK and I'll recover just fine. And I have so much wonderful support in my family and friends. Nobody can prepare me, though, for having a flat chest. No breast tissue, no nipples, no nothing except a flap of skin that we might use later for reconstruction. Ugh! Our image of the female body always includes a bust of one kind or another. I might feel less than female. But I also might feel just fine about it. Especially after the shock of seeing my new chest for the first time wears off. I also have a fantastic husband. I am extremely luck to have David. He's already told me that it won't make any difference to him as long as I'm alive and healthy. That's really the whole point, isn't it?

Bike Ride

We rode our mountain bikes deep into the woods to a secret spot where the raspberries grow. The bushes covered the sunny hillside and were heavy with fruit. We dropped our bikes to the ground and began picking and eating. The berries were sweet and tart at the same time. They were warm in the sun and you could taste sunshine and rain and the earth. We ate in silence with only the sound of birdsong and the breeze moving the trees. Wash the berries first, you might say? Well, no, this is a most organic and natural berry patch. Nothing to wash off. It sure was lovely and a great memory to savor when I'm recovering from surgery...

The post below was in Draft status. It's one month later and these side effects have pretty much all gone away - except for my face hair. For some reason, I kept losing eyelashes and eyebrows. Now, I have NO eyelashes, NO eyebrows, NO nose hair (TMI!). Oh well, it's good to have my energy back!

OK, here's my end-of-chemo inventory. After five months of chemotherapy,

Lashes

I saw in the mirror today that I have one eyelash left! One stubborn, determined eyelash on my right eye, upper lid. I seem to have continued losing eyelashes and eyebrows even after chemo stopped. I guess it takes a while for some of my components to get the message that the assault has ended. Oh, well, I feel much better and that's what counts.

I met my new, temporary favorite person last night. David and I were at the mall.

Last week, I did a PET/CT scan on a woman just about my age who very recently found out that she has breast cancer. Her sisters were with her, supporting her like my sister and friends do. They were all crying. She must have been a Stage 3, like me, because

I did something I shouldn't have done. I looked on the Web at photos of mastectomy results. It was bad, oh yeah! Scared myself but good! There were all these monster/mannish pics of women who must have had something gone wrong. So many lumps and folds and huge scars but nothing that looked anything like a female chest. Yeesh! David, of course, brought me back down to earth. He's such a sane person. I can also email my surgeon. She is very calm and strong too and can reassure me a bit.
My current plan is to buy some really cute AA-cup padded bras to wear until I can get reconstructed which could be 6 months after the double mastectomy next month. Victoria's Secret, here I come!

Well, there goes another lame-brain theory! While other people were getting

I am SO TIRED! I can't seem to get enough sleep. I nap almost every day and get enough sleep at night but I'm still tired. It's the

You know how, sometimes, you know something is a little "off" but you don't know what it is or why it's off? I had that feeling the other evening. It was late at night and things often feel "off" when I'm up a little too late. Then, I go

When Olivia is my age, we will be astounded, looking back, at how primitive my cancer treatment was. I am getting the very

Lost four toenails tonight while trying to give myself a pedicure! Ick! They were a

This evening I told my friend Jeff some of the things I learned when I met with the Radiation Oncologist. These things surprised, scared and shocked him. I decided to share these things with you. The Radiation Oncologist

Everyone has a Pet Peeve. I seem to have a lot of them. Here's one that became clarified for me today.

Camping with Chemo

David and I went to a mountain bike festival this past weekend called "Dirt Fest". The event was held on the Allegrippis trails at Raystown Lake in western PA. We camped for two nights and biked in the woods. We had a little rain on the second night and the next morning but overall the weather, the event and the company, was great! I was a little concerned before we went as to how I'd do on a campimg trip, much less one that included mountain biking. But, it was SO much fun and so great to be out in the woods again. A couple of observations:
 - Take lots of friends with you. That way, more than one person can wait on you! Plus, the campfire is a lot more fun with friends. We had Al, Ray, Richard K, Richard B, and Brian.
 - Find a friendly dog to keep you company while everyone else is out on a five hour mountain bike ride. This time, it was easy to find a dog since Al brought along his dog, Abbie. And a fine friend she was! She listened when I asked her to stay and brought the tennis ball all the way back to me when we played fetch.
 - Bring along a chaise lounge for, well, lounging. Just because you are in the woods doesn't mean that you can't lay around.
 - Ask your tent mate to set up the bed and arrange the covers before you get in the tent. Just crawling into the tent is enough of a workout without having to fluff out the blankets or sleeping bag from a lying down position. Talk about sore abs!
 - Speaking of the bed, use an air-filled mattress in the tent. No Thermarest or egg-crate is adequate on its own. Must have comfort! I was really comfortable on my air mattress and slept well.
 - Take a really good shower before you leave home. Try to resisit the temptation to shower daily in camp. Even the nicest shower/bathroom buildings require that you pack your own toiletries in and out. Too much trouble and if you start to smell - it's the chemo!

So, those are my hints for anyone going camping during their chemo regimen. Actually, I'm going to start incorporating as many of them as I can for all my future camping!

PS - The mountain biking at Allegrippis is really nice! The trails are well built and so fun. Lots of whoop-de-dos! It was good to be back in the woods on two wheels.

A Little Perspective, Please

I found out something about a friend of mine last night that shocked me. Then, it completely awed me because this person revealed to me that she suffered abuse as a child. I won't go into any details but suffice it to say that she went through years of an ongoing nightmare that no child should have to endure. And yet, I never suspected anything like that had happened to her. She is warm and funny and smart and really has made a great life for hereself. She is successful on a number of planes. I am inspired by her example. Something horrible- far more horrible than cancer and for far longer than any cancer treatment- came into her life and she survived and thrives! What a strong woman! How deep her heart is that she is able to give to others! It gives me a new perspective on what I am experiencing with breast cancer.

Overloaded

I gained 6 pounds in one week! Yikes! At this rate I'll be another 12 pounds heavier by the time chemotherapy is over. My darling nurse Diana tells me the weight gain is due to the massive amount of Decadron (steroid) that I am given each week to mitigate the side effects from the chemo. I have seen people gain weight on steroids, lots of weight.  But in my secret heart I know that my getting larger is also due to my attitude. The attitude that says "Hey, I have Cancer! I'll eat whatever I want!" So, it's time now to drop that attitude. Time to rein myself in and eat much, much better. David will like the change. He's been trying to lose a few pounds. Having an eating machine around the house is definitely not helpful for David. Besides, not even the 'comfy for chemo' clothes I bought on the cheap a few months ago still fit!

But, hey, the really important thing isn't my increasing weight. The important thing is that the cancer is no longer in evidence! Those darn tumors are on the run! I will win whether fat or thin!

Boring...

Sometimes I go awhile between blog posts. I think about writing something then I talk myself out of it. I tell myself that no one really wants to read my every thought and experience when the truth is that it's a blog, which by it's nature is all about whatever subject and content the writer wants to post. No one has the time or energy to post every minute, boring detail. Certainly not me! So, on with the posts. Hopefully, they are the interesting highlights and lowlights of this whole cancer thing.

A peanut butter cup broke my heart today. It tasted like the wrapper it was packaged in, plus a little peanut-butter-flavored sawdust! You'd think that this would keep me from eating candy or cookies or brownies, etc. But, alas, no. I am ever hopeful that some of the yummy taste I love so much will shine through. I should really remind myself at times like this that tastelessness is an indicator of just how well the chemo is working! Also, I am extremely lucky to have entered this battle healthy and strong because, so far, I am essentially bulletproof. Even the worst of the chemo, back in January and February, couldn't send me all the way down into disability. That thought gives me a thrill that no peanut butter cup can match!

Laundry List

Sometimes, people ask me what it's like to be on chemo; specifically Taxol and Herceptin. So, here are a few things that happen:

+ I eat like there's no tomorrow; I eat anything and everything. My appetite is unquenchable. I eat like Kirstie Alley when her show's been cancelled. I'd better stop soon because, before you can say Kobayahsi Maru, I'll be as big as Kirstie (she of the beautiful eyes and lush hair). This is different than being on Adriamycin and Cytoxan which pretty much destroys the pleasure of eating for 5-6 days after a treatment, mostly by making digestion a scary prospect.

+ Can't taste food in the same way. I can't tell if somethings too salty or too sweet. Feels like my tongue is wrapped in a layer of gauze. Fortunately, this doesn't interfere with talking but might have something to do with why I want to eat so much. I just might be trying to get more joy from food than my tongue will allow.

+ My feet and hands are tingly and a bit numb. I drop things a lot. Can't open packages - that sort of thing. I have to be careful about my feet, so they don't get injured. I might not feel it and, with healing taking longer, could be in for trouble.

+ Some balance issues. Have to hold the handrail on the stairs.

+ I'm not only STILL BALD but am losing my eyelashes and eyebrows. On the plus side, I haven't had to shave my legs since before Christmas! Ha!

+ They call it 'chemo brain'. I'm not as quick on the uptake as I used to be. Can't remember names, forget what I wanted to say, walk into a room and forget why I went in, etc. I have to admit to having some of this before any chemo, but now it's more noticable. I also tend to be more irritable although I might not be able to blame this on the chemo as much as the fact that I have cancer and I'm pissed!

+ Fatigue. It's a problem. I try to push past it as much as I can. I do acknowledge that resting is now one of my most important pastimes, but I'm losing every bit of conditioning that I'd had. Sometimes, the fatigue seems to inhabit my joints and muscles and I grunt and groan when I push up off the couch. Seems like walking out to the car is way too much trouble. But, there are bad days and not-so-bad-days.

+ Dental problems. As referred to in an earlier post, I've already cracked two teeth. I understand that these tooth problems can continue after the chemo's over. Yikes! I've had some mouth sores, too.

+ Gas. Really bad gas. About 1/2 hour after a meal, I need to remove myself from human company for a few minutes. The poor cats; I don't extend this courtesy to them. It's not like I can just wait a while till the coast is clear. It's too painful. Oh, no! I sound like an old bachelor now, talking about my farts! Eeew...

+ Near zero exercise tolerance. You can build yourself up for a few days but then you crash right back down for one reason or another soon thereafter. It's very hard to get past the point where my heart starts racing when I walk fast.

+ Colds last a long time and cuts take forever to heal. Kind of expected with my immune system under attack.

There are probably more things that should be on this list, but with chemo brain, I can't remember them right now. There are other things going on, like depression, that aren't directly caused by chemo. I also take Prilosec every day now. If I didn't, I would be having killer heartburn. But, overall, Taxol is a lot kinder than Adriamycin and Cytoxan were. Those two were horrible! I'm so glad they are far behind me now. The other women in my Breast Cancer support group say it's like childbirth - horrible when you're going through it but you forget how bad it was.

The good news is that, almost without exception, all of these side effects are temporary. I'll be bouncing back strong this Fall, when everything's over. Count on it!

Public Service Announcement

So far I've had two broken teeth during my chemo. It's so unusual to break off part of a tooth while eating that I started surfing the net to find out if the chemo was causing it. If you recall from a very early post of mine, I had decided to stop surfing the net for cancer information. It was just too scary and overwhelming to read about all the possible effects from chemotherapy. I decided to trust my doctors, and especially the Infusion Center nurses, to convey any and all knowledge about side effects I might experience. This turned out to be a very good idea because I wasn't being terrified all the time by internet babble about symptoms that were likely never to occur. But, I was sitting at home one day recently, eating a Snicker's ice cream bar when a piece of my back tooth broke right off. Okay, I shouldn't have been eating a Snicker's ice cream bar, but it could have just as easily happened while eating a celery stick! This incident happened about a month after a large filling popped out of a back tooth. I think I was eating a piece of candy at the time. Is a pattern emerging? No, no ,no, no I can't give up sweets! I have cancer, dammit, and I'll eat whatever I want! So, I finished the Snicker's ice cream bar. Afterwards, I sat down at the computer and, lo and behold, all kinds of dental problems can happen with chemo! Didn't know that. The enamel is weakened and plaque tends to build up a lot faster due to decreased saliva production. So that's why I can't spit out the car window while driving down York Rd anymore! Kidding! Anyhoo, lesson learned. I need to take even better care of my teeth. Maybe I'll try a fluoride rinse too, like the nurse recommended 5 months ago! They told me about mouth sores and dry mouth, which I've experienced, but not about cracking teeth. Oh, well, you can't be perfectly prepared for everything and I still stand by my decision to avoid searching the net...

Here are a couple of good sites I found for info about chemo and teeth:

www.livestrong.com/article/31610-effects-chemotherapy-teeth/       Lance Armstrong's cancer site
www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/pdq/supportivecare/oralcomplications/Patient/page5   from the National Cancer Institue

It happened again. This week I saw a patient for a PET/CT scan with a history of breast cancer. She told me that she had had cancer in her right breast four years ago. She had a mastectomy, chemo and radiation. Recently, they found cancer in her left breast and she was beginning the process all over again. Even before I knew I had breast cancer, I noticed that I was seeing a fair amount of women in this same situation. You know, I just don't want to go through the whole cancer treatmernt process again, although I'm sure the PET/CT scan patient didn't want to either! Having a bilateral mastectomy instead of removing just the affected breast seems more and more like the way to go for me. Some of the cancer info out there, especially the things about recurrences, can be very confusing. You really have to dig in and concentrate or the message is muddled. What I think I'm hearing and reading is that having only the affected breast removed does not increase the likelihood of a recurrence manifesting as distant metastases as opposed to opting for bilateral mastectomy. What a mouthful! See what I mean about confusing?! I interpret it as: having the bilateral mastectomy doesn't change the possibility that the cancer won't show up again outside the breast, in the liver, say, or in a bone. But, having the bilateral mastectomy removes billions and trillions of breast tissue cells, cells that have the possibility of changing into cancer again. Some of the messages might not be so straightforward but, the situation I'm seeing as a Nuclear Medicine Technologist is quite clear so I feel like I have to act on it.

My hair has been gone so completely for so long now, I hope it doesn't forget how to grow back! With everything going on, I should be more worried about other things, but vanity will always rear it's ugly head! I just have to remember what my balding friend said a few months ago, "It's a bummer that you don't have any hair now, but at least yours will grow back!". There are a few positives about having no hair. I shower in five minutes flat. When I put the car windows down on a beautiful day, no worries about messing up my hair. It's a lot cooler, having no hair, so you're going to be jealous of me in the hot, hot summer!

Here's the blog entry where I tell you what I've decided I want for my surgery on July 6. I'm going to discuss breastises in general and mine in particular as it relates to the removal of them and what I think I'll gain and lose. So, you might want to stop reading now and go back to Facebook or your email if you don't want to read the really personal stuff. It might seem odd that I will share all of this but I do it for two reasons. One- it's my blog and I get to say whatever I want with no comments (while I'm writing, anyway!) and, two - I have found it extremely helpful to talk to other women who have gone through the same thing. Not only is it helpful, but it makes me feel part of a community of sisters who share a life-altering experience. It's so nice. Some of my darling sisters have even gone so far as to show me their scars and how their chests look now, without breasts. Wow. I am grateful and humbled. So, if anyone reads my blog who is facing down the same type of breast cancer that I am - Stage III, HER2-Neu+ - I hope it helps.

I want to have a bilateral (both breasts) mastectomy and bilateral breast reconstruction.This could change after I talk again to the surgeons - plastic (for reconstruction) and general oncology (for mastectomy and lymph node removal). A few weeks ago, we were talking about a much lass drastic surgery than mastectomy. Mt oncologist felt that a 'wedge' could be taken out where the 'thing' they saw on MRI was. A primary breast tumor was not found. The surgeon is recommending a left mastectomy because we really don't know where the original tumor was. It had to be there! It was dissolved by my body but not before it sent some tumor cells out to the lymph nodes.

My reasons:
- I found out that even with only one breast removed (unilateral mastectomy), the remaining breast would  need surgery, too. Not as drastic as a mastectomy, but the remaining breast will change over time; OK, it will sag, and it will need to be surgically lifted. Also, in my case, the remaining breast will likely need to be reduced. I'm not braggin' but my breasts are not small and it would require a bigger surgery to make the reconstructed side look the same as my 'real' breast without a reduction. So, both breasts would need surgery anyway.
- To continue somewhat the above thought, I look forward to the time when I don't have big boulders on my chest. When I bike or run or even go for a fast walk, well, any kind of exercise, I have to wear a chest-crushing binder so that I won't bounce. I really don't like bouncing! It not only looks painful, it is! It's a bit lewd, too. And there's no tearing off of the t-shirt to reveal a cute little sports 'top' underneath. If I took off my tee, what you would see is a giant, medical-grade-geriatric-looking, wide strapped monster bra. Ugh! Not that I'm thinking of tearing off any tops, but I sure would like a more streamlined chest for being active.
- I think that one boob on a woman's chest becomes an oddity. I mean, what's it for? My sincere apologies to women who opted for unilateral mastectomy. I respect their decision and am not accusing them of being odd. These are simply my thought processes, right or wrong, good or ill. I met a woman who was young when she went through cancer treatment. She wanted to have another child and breastfeed so she saved the good breast. Other women want to absolutely minimize surgery. Also consider that women found in Stage 1 can have a lumpectomy only and their survival rate is still very high. But, back to my reasoning, such as it is. I believe that breasts are great and that they are great when they come in pairs. Lord knows, I have enjoyed having a very nice pair! But I just can't imagine that one real and one fake, with no nipple and a different size, would have the same impact, for me or for him. Someone reminded me that, if I kept one natural breast, I would maintain some sensation. But, could I ever get over the fact that my 'pair' is gone? It seems weird, wrong, to think of just one breast as an errogenous zone! Other body parts are a bit more critical than my breast. I would definitely save my other arm or my other eyeball. There is no practical reason to save that one breast.
- This could be the most important reason for bilateral mastectomy: I would worry about recurrence less. My oncologist told me research has shown that having the unaffected breast removed doesn't decrease the recurrence rate. I trust my oncologist and have great faith in her, but I'm not thinking about research results, I'm thinking about how I will feel. Surgery cannot remove every single breast cell. What a gruesome operation that would be! But with all the breast tissue that is removed in a mastectomy, there will be trillions and trillions less breast cells to convert to cancer cells in the future. Several breast cancer survivors said that they really didn't start worrying about recurrence until after all the treatment and the unilateral mastectomy was over. Then, anxiety kicked in. I can understand that since the treatment and surgery is overwhelming and you concentrate on the day-to-day.

Some of these reasons are justifications, I know it. Don't think for a minute that I wouldn't love to have never, ever gone through this hellish process. But, I am trying to be as positive as I can. Dwelling on the negatives is just not healthy. I will never have a normal body again. (Wow, it was hard to write that last sentence!) I can make myself totally miserable about it or I can be optimistic. I choose to find the good when I can and relish joy when I find it.

I went for a mountain bike ride with David yesterday. The woods were so fresh and green! The sun was out and everything sparkled. Saw some spring ephemeral wildflowers. And I fell off my bike! That's right, had a big ol' fall. Almost went down into a stream gully, too. I did something that I've known not to do for years. I looked right at that big pointy rock I didn't want to hit and my bike followed my eyes. But, even with three months of chemotherapy, I still bounce pretty good and only got a couple of scratches. I also got one horrible photo of big ol' fat, bald me in bike clothes that not longer fit! Ugh! Chemo isn't pretty!

Rant and Rave (a little)

I just can't believe I have cancer. It's surreal, unbelievable. This can't be happening! It's like I went down the rabbit hole and I'll wake up soon to find I've got my life back. It isn't fair that I have cancer. I have done a pretty good job of trying to stay healthy... at least in the last 20 years or so. Why? Why? Why?

Phew! Ok, got that out of my system. Enough whining; back to fighting the good fight. Chemo tomorrow! Gotta be ready. My darling lifelong friend Anne is taking me.

Hopewell

Went to a Breast Cancer Support Group at the Hopewell Center for Cancer Support the other night. What with all the docs appointments, treatments and the labor- and energy-intensive foster child, I hadn't had a chance to go before this. It was a good group. A nice mix of personalities, socio-economic groups and diagnoses. Of course, everyone there had breast cancer, but each of us has had a different experience. The talking was very therapeutic and I learned a few things. I think I'll indulge myself a little and go back again in two weeks when they meet again.

It would be nice if we all could support each other through life like I get supported through cancer. Even though I'm facing down a deadly disease, the people who care for me, and those who care about me, have made some of this time wonderful. The love I receive feels like I just lay down in a cool stream on a hot, dry day. Just living (without cancer) is a very hard thing sometimes. We should be nicer to everyone, all the time. Especially strangers. And people driving their cars. And the doofus neighbor who never cuts their grass.

You Big Baby!

I cried a lot today. I cried when I showed a nurse the rosary that my mother-in-law loaned me for chemo treatments. It is old and has been prayed on a lot. I take it with me for the power it holds. I cried in the car on the way home from the grocery store b/c I was thinking about the enormity of having cancer. Why, exactly, do I have cancer? How, exactly, did this happen? How could this happen to me; it can only happen to other people, right? I cried later thinking about all the ladies years ago who endured horrible treatments that made them vomit for days and shrink into not more than a walking skeleton. Those treatments were so primitive and were far less effective than what is available to me now. I cried at dinner, talking with old friends about what's happening. Most days, I am much more matter-of-fact. I do what I have to do, go where I have to go, deal with side effects, go see doctors, pick up films and all the other chores, big and small, that make getting cancer treatment a part-time job. But today, my eyes kept leaking. So, I think I'll just go to bed. And cry...

Twenty Two

Last night I met a woman who is a 22-year breast cancer survivor. Twenty-two years!! She looked great and she was great. I want to be just like her when I grow up! In 22 years, I'll be a senior citizen for sure, but if I reach that mark, I'll be very happy.

What do I think??

So far in my breast cancer treatment, I have made only one decision: Trust the docs at Sinai and do everything they say. It's worked out great! My cancer is in retreat and I've survived the treatments. Now, however, I have to actually THINK and make some decisions. This is hard. Mastectomy or quadrant resection? Single or double mastectomy? Reconstruction? It's a decision that only I can make, but I'm going to get some reinforcement. My surgeon is a great resource but I might actually start surfing the net again. Also, this week I checked out the Hopewell Center at Joppa and Falls Roads. They have a breast cancer support group (among lots of other cancer support services). Think I'll go talk to my 'sisters' there...

The Mole

Thought of a good analogy for someone getting chemotherapy: Whack A Mole! Picture my head popping up out of the hole, then the hammer - the chemo, duh! - comes down and smacks me. But, here's the thing: I pop right back up, until next time... Lucky girl, is me, 'cause I always pop back up!

That's How They Do It

When you have cancer, just like when you are pregnant, people that you tell usually have their own story to relate. With breast cancer, I often heard about a co-worker, friend or relative that received a course of chemo and never missed a day of work. This made me feel like a wimp, a lightweight, because I couldn't imagine going to work as bad as I felt! I had a string of days after each chemo where I didn't even change my clothes - just melted out of bed in the morning, moped around all day, then laid back down at night, hoping for sleep that was uninterrrupted by trips to the bathroom. Eating anything at all required lots of consideration about what would cause the least discomfort. Headaches, body aches, fatigue, etc. I could manage going to work on days 5 and 6 after a treatment but that was it.
Then, I started this second round of chemo with Taxol instead of Adriamicin and Cytoxan. Appently, Taxol is a much more common agent used for breast cancer that the 'red devil' and its sidekick. I can definitely work while receiving Taxol. WAY less side effects! So, now I see how they do it! And - I don't fell like such a wimp 'cause not very many - maybe nobody - could work while getting A & C.

Balanced Again.

I have my equilibrium back. A little time and lots of human interaction and I'm not thinking about the poor lady last week with the breast cancer recurrence. It always delights me how talking with friends, relatives, neighbors and strangers really gets me out of myself and back in the world. You don't even have to talk about what's bothering you. Just the conversation and proximity are very therapeutic!

Down the Hole Again

It's really hard to be positive all the time. I've learned that a good attitude helps with any situation. Sometimes there's a lapse, though. In my job, I see lots of cancer patients. Today, I met a lovely, lovely lady who was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago. She went through the entire drill at that time. Chemo, surgery, radiation. She was getting a scan today because of some pain in the opposite armpit. I can't quite descibe how I felt when I saw her scan this afternoon. She had lots of cancer growing on the other side now. Oh, damn. Oh, damn. Oh, damn...

ER! ER!

I have a chest & head cold and a slight temperature. But chemo people have to call the Oncologist when little stuff like that happens, so I did. The doc directed me to go to the ER! Ewww... don't want to go there! But, of course we did. They took a chest xray to make sure I wasn't working on pnemonia and drew some blood to make sure my white cell count was ok. And, of course, everything was ok so I went home about three hours after I got there.

My brief experience with the Sinai ER was very impressive! Everyone - the clerk at the front desk, the doc, the three nurses we saw, the xray tech, even the poor person who had to collect money from us - were so efficient and so Nice! We had zero wait time in the waiting room and got whisked back to a room immediately. The nurse and the doc popped in frequently to give us updates. I don't think that all of this nice treatment was because I am a pathetic cancer patient with a little bald head, I think that they are genuinely nice. Bravo!

MRI Biopsy

Went to American Radiology at Green Spring on Wednesday for an MRI guided biopsy. I've never even heard of that! I'm so lucky that I can tolerate so much because the position that you're in for that procedure - well, I just can't imagine some little old lady being able to lay there with her boob clamped and arms up for 30 minutes! Whew! Anyhoo, they couldn't do the biopsy because the 'thing' they were trying to get to was no longer visible by MRI. Which means the chemo is doing a bang-up job. Yay! And it also means that, on this day, I didn't have to have a giant needle poked in me. Double Yay!!

Got Straight

I've gotten all my questions answered about my chemo. Turns out, the confusion was entirely my own. Although, I was left out of the loop somewhat by the Oncology team! David and I met with Dr Truica a couple of months ago to discuss the chemo schedule. The Nurse Practitioner was even nice enough to print out a calendar of treatments for me. So, what for us was a firm schedule, was not so much for the O. team. Since my case is a bit unusual (lucky me!), I've been discussed a bunch. They even presented my case to the Tumor Board at Sinai. The Tumor Board meets about once a month and consists of Oncologists, Radiation Oncologists, Oncologic Surgeons and Nurse Practitioners. They discuss challenging cases and form a concensus opinion about how to treat these cases. I think it's a great concept. Very non-egotistical of some potentially very egotistical people! After the Tumor Board met, I remember being told that I'd need a biopsy but I don't remember the chemo schedule change. But, overall, the change to the chemo was pretty minor. So it was no big deal. We did find out, by giving me the 'dense' dose of Taxol, that I definitely need the 'regular' dose, given every week instead of every other week. My reaction to the Taxol was NOT GOOD!! Lots of bone pain - ouch! And plenty of tummy trouble!

BTW - My case is 'unusual' because, although the tumor in the lymph node under my arm consisted of breast cancer cells, there was no primary tumor identified in either breast. I had a very fancy breast MRI which showed 'something' at 12 o'clock in the left breast. Could have been a former tumor, now dried up and inactive, that 'seeded' the tumor in the lymph node. It was this 'thing' that the Tumor Board recommemded a biopsy of.

An Interesting Weekend

I'm not at all sure what's happening this weekend. I go the new chemo agents (Taxol and Herceptin) on Friday but I didn't get the side effects I expected. The confusion started on Friday morning in the Infusion Center when the nurse declared that my 'orders are all wrong'. Not a comforting thing to hear. Apparently, she could alter some of the orders, but I was still getting the Taxol and Herceptin, just like I thought. At the time, it didn't seem necessary to go into the ask-a-million-questions mode. Some of the things that the oncologist said seemed to be contradicted by the nurse. Like - I wouldn't need a Nulasta shot on Saturday, which they sent me for anyway. The Nulasta shot helps support the immune system, which is blasted by chemo. I was told, though, that Taxol doesn't need Nulasta but I went to get the shot anyway, like the nurse said,  b/c it can't really hurt. I'm wondering about that thought right now because my bones and joints are aching big time! To add to the fun, the Nulasta nurse, on Saturday, said that I got the 'dense' dose of Taxol which is given every other week. I'm supposed to get Taxol every week. So, do I feel so lousy because I got too much Taxol?? Sooo, tomorrow morning, I'll be getting back into commando mode; getting answers! Look out Sinai!

My Big Feet

Hey, looks like I haven't blogged in a while. Guess that's because, until a few days ago, things were pretty quiet - or maybe I'm getting used to the 'chemo effect'. What a crappy thing to get used to! I'd much rather be getting used to sitting on the nice, hot beach under an umbrella with a cool drink. But, then something comes along to jolt you out of your stupor. My feet and hands have revolted - and they are revolting to see! Red, somewhat swollen and tender. I keep bashing my hands into things and the cuts take ONE MONTH to heal. Can't walk right and I have these attractive blisters on my hands. Bubonic Plague, anyone? Oy! So, I talked to the Oncologist. She's going to postpone my next chemo treatment until my extremities behave. What the heck happened? One minute I'm the poster girl for getting through chemo, the next minute I'm down for the count. Down, for now maybe, but not out! I will sit down and put my feet up for a few days and carry on with the program as soon as possible. Gotta keep hammering those cancer cells!

Debbie's Book

Props to my wonderful sister-in-law Debbie Godfrey. The book she gave me at the beginning of my treatment is now the only 'cancer' material that I read. The book is called "What Helped Me Through: Cancer Survivors Share Wisdom and Hope" by Julie K. Silver, MD. It's mostly quotes from survivors about non-medical issues; things that 'helped them through'. I don't look at articles about cancer or treatment. I don't read any of the other books that the hospital gave me. I don't surf the net. I don't read the handouts about the medications I'm being given. This is a little odd because I've spent my entire career as a Nuclear Medicine Technologist reading journal articles, going to continuing ed. seminars and in general learning, in detail, about everything new and known about the studies that we do. But, as a cancer patient, my only source of info about treatment and drug side effects are my oncologist and the nurses in the Infusion Center. The nurses, especially, are the best filter about what to expect with each treatment. Having seen and heard about all side effects, they tell me about only the effects that are likely to happen, not every possible one. Lots less stress!

The Night Before

So, I'm sitting here at quarter past eleven stuffing my face! Tomorrow, and for 5-6 days after, I won't be able to eat whatever I want so I'm enjoying the last moments of indulgence. But, oh, WAH! I sound like such a baby, worried about not eating everything in sight! I have real things to dread and real things to celebrate. First, the dreaded part, just to get the whining out of the way: Tomorrow will be perhaps the worst chemo I'll ever have. It's the very last really nasty one with Adriamycin and Cytoxan. Last week, when I was still feeling bad from the last one, I cried every time I thought about having to do this again this week! Please don't drag me down to the dungeon again! I do feel a bit more ready to run the gaunlet again now, though. Now that I'm back to normal and feeling strong, I can take anything they throw at me! Especially with the great finding this week, which brings me to the thing to celebrate.
Earlier, I wrote about not being able to feel the lump in my armpit. Well, I saw the oncologist today. After she examined me, she said "Jane, I want to make sure that you come in for your treatment tomorrow. The lesion is gone - sometimes my patients decide not to come back". She confirmed my own findings! The doctor even said it!! I told her that there was nothing that could keep me from the rest of the treatments. Bring it on! Let's stomp on every last one of those cancer cells!
There's one more thing to celebrate. It's the thing that I celebrate all the time now. It's the thing that amazes me and humbles me and makes me cry (in a good way). It's all the love, concern, prayers and good thoughts that are being sent my way. It's truly awesome! Life is beautiful and so are my friends and family! Thank you, thank you, thank you...

A Victory!

Well, I felt it two days ago, but wanted to wait and try again, just to be sure. I cannot feel the lump in my armpit any longer. If I press and press deeply, there might be something small and dried up deep down but the big round lump that I found back in December is G-O-N-E!! Woo-hoo! Your prayers and thoughts for me are working! Not to mention the yuckky chemo treatments. Now, I'm not saying or thinking that my cancer is gone. Nobody is saying that, yet. I haven't had any tests or imaging recently to backup my self-exam. The cancer exists in my body on the cellular level and demands that every treatment my oncologist has get thrown at it over the next months. LOTS more chemo, radiation and surgery are the weapons we will blast the bad cells with. But, OH BOY, do I feel good right now!!!

Nothing new

Hi! Just a quick update. Nobody wants to read a bunch more stuff about how I feel bad. Each day post-chemo is better, but each treatment takes a little longer for recovery. Thankfully, I have just one more really bad chemo. Then, it just continues until the end of May. And not a hair on my head! Makes showering so fast! No shampoo, no combing or styling and I just take the face cream all the way up and over...

Just Crush It With Your Car

Had another chemo today. There are 3 marbles in the dish and only one more of the really bad treatments. One more Adriamycin and Cytoxan, then we move on to Taxol and Herceptin and weekly treatments with less side effects. Yay! The Nurse Practiotioner and the Nurse told me today that the treatments I'm getting are really hard and that I am doing really well! That was so good to hear. I know I am strong and that I am moving through the program with a minimum of bad effect, compared to the old days when chemo was truly brutal. But I do feel pretty yucky (it's a medical term) for longer and longer after the chemo. So, I got some confirmation that I am not a whiny weakling. Nobody's saying that, but I feel like it sometimes!

I asked my nurse today if I could have the gigantic empty syringes that the Adriamycin comes in so that I could take them outside and run them over with my car a few times. But she said, surprisingly, NO! Darn, it's so rewarding to destroy the inanimate thing that has caused you misery. I have taken out and sledge-hammered the occasional recalcitrant blender or printer that has caused me nothing but grief. I put on my safety goggles and smash the crap out of it. Satisfying! I'm not up to swinging a sledgehammer right now, so I thought my car could fill the bill. But, the empty Adriamycin syringe would contain traces of a dangerous biohazard. When the nurse is giving it to me, she is swathed in a fluid-impermeable gown, wears a mask and eye protection and thick rubber gloves. So, she is safe (which is very good), but taking the syringe outside might hurt the poor road that I would smash it on! Somebody walking by might get a miniscule droplet on their shoe! But, yeah, that stuff gets pumped right into me - through my port, then it dumps into my heart and gets circulated to every cell in my body. Well...  these are not good thoughts for me to be having right now so I'll be chanting these phrases as I go up to bed: I LOVE my chemo!! It is saving my LIFE!! Go, chemo, go!!

Marbles

I got my marbles today! Before you read on, just get all the 'lost your marbles?/ found your marbles?' dialogues overwith.... OK, done now? Right! So, I saw this neat idea on a website for women taking chemotherapy for breast cancer. It was a set of eight small 'stretchy' bracelets made of pink and iridescent beads. Real cute. You wear all eight of them on one arm and as you finish a chemo treatment, you move a bracelet to the other arm. I've always liked a good graphic reminder. I nearly ordered the bracelets when the Oncologist told me that, instead of the usual eight chemo treatments, I hit the jackpot and will need 28. That won't translate so good into the bracelet idea. I got visions of bracelets popping off, getting too stretchy and getting really dirty over all that time. Enter the marbles! I ordered these special, online. Right now the 'Finished' plate looks a little forlorn. But, over time, I'll pack 'em in and fill up that plate, one pretty marble at a time.

Coneheads

We do kind of look like the Coneheads from SNL, don't we?

Finally

It's eleven days after my last chemo and I finally can say that I'm feeling good, albeit with a small head cold. It's really amazing that I have any good days, considering that I'm going through a treatment that, in the past, made people very ill the entire time that it was happening. I am a lucky girl! And - I'm a bald girl! David shaved my head last night to rid me of the last remaining stragglers of hair. In a show of solidarity, he shaved his head, too! It was actually quite hilarious to watch as the hair came off. We had many different configurations of baldness as we went: the mohawk, the bottom fringe, etc. Many apologies to those men who have permanently lost hair, but we gotta find the humor when we can!

Surreality

This is the one and only time I will get all "Sunday go to meetin'" on you, I promise. I am asking everyone to do one thing for me now. If you are healthy and your children (if you have them) are healthy, get off your chair and down on your knees right now and thank whatever god(s) or beings you believe are responsible for your good health. I mean that literally, go down on the floor and thank god, over and over. Cry out, shout it out (except if you are in the public library, that could get ugly). Be so very thankful that you haven't had to hear 'aggressive cell type' and 'four different types of chemo drugs' and you don't have to think about how, even after you've survived this year-long battle, you may have just had many years of your life taken away later down the road. Are you weeping and wailing yet? No? Well, get to it! C'mon - it's the last time I'll ask...

Hair Stuff

A friend of mine told me something the other day. He said that he is sorry that I've lost my hair, but at least mine will grow back some day. He's not bald, but he's definitely receded a bit. Now, don't misunderstand, he is very sad that I have breast cancer and is sympathetic and helpful and all that but he gave me a new perspective. It really made me a little less anguished at losing my hair. I really can't imagine the anguish of losing your hair, forever. You can't wait a while and see if it grows; there's no turning the clock back. And losing your hair, if you're a guy, is not reflective of any bad lifestyle choices either. You are completely powerless to affect it in any way. Thanks, Steve, for reminding me that I will come back, I will be restored when this is all over. Feels good to ponder that!

Oh, Ick!

Well, there goes my hair! I still look like I have a head of hair, but I'm shedding it rapidly. It's kind of a shock, but it means something - the medicine is working! The cancer cells are being killed, too. I really think I'll be a scarf person, not a wig person. The wig isn't the most comfortable although it's a very nice wig. Makes me kind of nauseated thinking about wearing a wig. Crazy?! huh...

Chemo #2

Today's chemo was easier than the first. I think it was because I knew what to expect. It's 9:00 pm and only now am I tired and feel like bed is the place to be. I was able to go out for the Friday Grant Family dinner. (Always at a restaurant - no one has to cook for 9 - 12 people!). Last time, I took a nap in the early evening and woke up with nausea and a headache. So, the simple answer was -no nap this time
The staff at the Sinai Infusion Center was once again very nice, very efficient and caring. My nurse today was Sherri. We talked about how someone else's energy can be shared to the benefit of the recipient. That's right up my alley! She encouraged me to have a positive visualization of the chemo's effect. So, instead of thinking about had bad the drugs are, I tried to think about how good there were working, just like Jeff said a few weeks ago. I closed my eyes and directed the drug to travel through my blood to go to every lymph node, all the lobes of my liver and into the alveoli of my lungs. I encouraged the drug to destroy all the cancer cells, anywhere in my body and especially the darn thing in my armpit!! Then, I opened my eyes and finished working on the Friday crossword puzzle in the paper.
Our family friend, Kathy, picked me up at Sinai and took me home. My sister Nancy drove me to pick up N. later at school. Thanks, ladies!

New Stuff

I saw the oncologist today. Tomorrow is Chemo #2. She wanted to see me the day before to see how Chemo #1 went. We talked about various and sundry side effects and how they resolved, or didn't resolve. I got a few more prescriptions to get filled. I take, or can take if I need to, five or six drugs in addition to the chemo. This from someone who used to carefully think over taking a Tylenol! Oh, well, it's all temporary. And if the extra drugs help get me through this, then OK, I'm in. But, back to the oncologist. She told me today that the dosages of the chemo drugs I'm given are much lower than they used to be when breast cancer treatment caused really horrible side effects, like lots of vomiting. They (researchers and docs in the field) found that they could decrease the dose of Cytoxan, say, from 2 grams down to 600 milligrams. They get the same result from less dose with fewer side effects! Yea! I am very grateful. I am standing on the shoulders of all my sisters before me who suffered with the higher doses. Without all the experience and knowledge about treatment previous breast cancer patients gave the docs, I'd be vomiting, too. I can't say that the treatment I'm getting is a picnic, but - no barfing yet!

Nancy

Thank God for chemo drugs. Thank God for Adriamycin and Cytogen and Taxol. Thank God for Herceptin. Thank God for all the crazy drugs they give you to combat side effects like Emend and Decadron - they each have their own side effects!
Breast cancer doesn't hurt. There is no pain to wish gone, no injury to hope to recover from. No anticipated surgery that will fix everything and make you whole again. Breast cancer patients are already whole, for the most part. So, to make yourself sick and expose your body to poisons and debilitation seems so wrong! But, to live, treatment is the only choice. So, thank God for the drugs, every damn one of them. Working in healthcare, it's so easy to be a bit cynical about drug companies but thank God for them, too. And thank God for all the researchers and doctors and medical professionals and hospitals and universites who spent so much effort and time in developing and testing the drugs. Thank God for every last participant in every damn Race for the Cure that ever was! And thank God for Susan Komen, who died after her battle with breast cancer 30 years ago. Last but never least, thank God for Susan's wonderful sister who started the worldwide breast cancer awareness movement in memory of Susan. Susan's sister's name? NANCY - just like my wonderful sis!  But my Nancy won't lose me because of everthing that's been done in the last 30 years. Thank God!

5 Days Post 5 Days Post

It's been five days since the first chemo treatment. I feel better - almost normal! Just a little reflux easily controlled with good ole Tums. And, I really have a new appreciation for good ole ginger ale. I feel like I'm still into the process of facing so many treatments. Every other week til March, then every week until May!! Boy, I must have it really bad. Don't think Cheryl Crow and Christina Appelgate had so many treatments. Lucky me. But, with help and strength, I'll do it! And come out at the other end healthy and whole again.

Tried on a wig the other day. I can't really get too excited about the wig. It's beautiful and kind of light auburn and a little longer than my current short haircut. Here's the plus - I can wash it in the sink, shake it out, let it dry and plop it on my head. I think, when all the treatment is done and my own hair grows back, I'll put it (the wig!) through the shredder! BWA - HA- HA

Not So Bad

Got the first chemo last Friday. Everything is not so bad. Does chemo make you depressed? Don't know. It is like a lightbulb switched off, though. I feel kind of down. Of course, considering the circumstances, well, duh! Physically, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. I had a little nausea over the weekend, but those drugs they give you for it are REALLY good! Mostly, I'm tired. They said I might have trouble sleeping from  the steroids they need to pre-treat you with but I've been sleeping 10+ hours per night so I guess they won't be a problem. It seems like I will be getting treated for such a very long time! I'm such a weenie about feeling bad. Hope the blog dosen't turn into a whine-fest...

Chemo - Day 1

Hi - I want to tell you a little about what happened on the first day of chemo but first I need to thank you all very much for your prayers, thoughts, messages of encouragement, phone calls and good wishes! They are all communication from your spirit to mine (and God's). I believe that we are all connected - this is not just New Age touchy-feely stuff. When I study the sciences, I learn more about how we are all connected, physically (really!). Many religions teach that we are all one, and so we are. You thoughts send me POWER and I feel it. Thanks! By the way, if someone could communicate the winning Lotto numbers ahead of time, I'd appreciate that too!

So, Chemo, Day1:

Took about 4 hours. Started with port access, blood test, steroid injection, anti-upchuck meds, etc. Then came two injections over ten minutes of the "Red Devil", Adriamycin (don't google it - too scary!). Then, a one hour infusion of Cytoxen (ditto on the google-ing). The nurses and staff at the Sinai Hospital Infusion Center are awesome! On this first day of chemo, we had so many staff visitors giving us support and info that we never even turned on the TV and I didn't finish a single crossword puzzle! I felt real good when we left so we went out to lunch and then stopped at Princeton Sports. Got home, took a nap and felt crappy when I woke up - headache and nausea. Drank lots of water, breathed, walked around and visited with David and N. Felt much better by 6:30 pm and ate an old standby - saltines and tomato soup! And I can't leave out 'The Simpsons' therapy. Comes on channel 54 at 6:00 and 7:00.

Good News and Bad News

More pathology results. I got some more details from the Oncologist. My cancer cells are the type with HER2NEU receptors. If you remember the cartoon of a cell that you learned about in Science class, picture it with some HER2NEU 'spikes' on the outside wall. The spikes are the receptors; receptors pick up chemicals that tell the cell what to do. The bad news first - cancer cells with these receptors are aggressive and grow fast. (could be why I 'suddenly' noticed a lump in my armpit.) The good news is that there is a treatment that very specifically targets these cancer cells and not a whole lot else AND the treatment is very effective. The treatment contains HER2NEU antibodies - yep, antibodies are what your body makes when you have an invasion of bacteria or virus like when you get a cold or are exposed to the flu. So, I get injected with these lab-created antibodies that travel through my bloodstream and ATTACK the cancer cells! This is called TARGETED therapy and creates a lot fewer side effects. I stiil need to do conventional chemotherapy first, but then I get Herceptin (the fancy antibodies) for a few months.

Let's Go!

I wish it were Friday so that chemo could get started! I feel strong and healthy and SO ready to let the battle begin!

Rue the day

Oh, oh, oh! Ten minutes after my tirade last night I really regretted it. The worker is only doing the best that she can. It's a funny system, the Department of Social Services and Foster Care, I think that the worker has a huge case load and has developed survival skills over the years. If it's not a crisis, it doesn't get attention so asking nicely, calmly, being reasonable doesn't even register! Must be why the tirade was so successful. I will be very kind when I call her back to apologise - humans should always share the love. It's all about - it's only about - the love. But, the devil in me is saying to wait until she accomplishes what I need her to, then apologise. Heh.

Meltdown #1

I totally lost it tonight! Even though David and I were both off today and we took a beautiful walk in the woods, by 7:30pm I had had it. I found out this morning a couple more pathology results from the biopsy I had a couple of weeks ago. Turns out, I qualify for a Trial - a study done by cancer researchers. This is not so good! Also, my Chemo Orientation class was tonight from 5 to 6:30. LOTS of really scary stuff (although the staff of the Cancer Center are wonderful). Confirmed my worst fears about what the chemo will be like. Even after all this, I was still holding my own. Still cheerful and determined to do the battle of my life. I still felt like a lioness! After this, David and I tried to pick up N___'s prescriptions at the pharmacy. Then followed a series of roadblocks and frustrations, the upshot of which was that, after ONE MONTH of efforts to make sure N___ (our foster child and a wonderful distraction from all the cancer doom and gloom) could continue his very important medications, we were back at square one! Not only were the prescriptions we were given invalid, but N___'s insurance cards were no good! Well, here's where I lost it. I called the poor unfortunate (useless!) social worker and essentially ripped her a new one (Pardon the crudity). I was screaming and sobbing into the phone about chemo treatments and how I had no more capacity to chase down the solution to this problem because I WAS GOING TO BE A LITTLE BUSY THROWING UP THIS WEEKEND!! Well, as it turns out, this was precisely the method necessary to get this woman to go into action and help us with a problem that she had a large role in creating. She agreed to take over all the necessary phone calls and road trips to fix it. Note to self: Next time I need something from the DSS, make a complete idiot of yourself in the middle of the CVS! Worked great!

Mom

One of the first things I said to my sister after I found out that I have breast cancer is that I'm glad Mom isn't here to experience this with us. Don't get me wrong - I'd LOVE to have my Mom on the Posse! I miss her very much and I would really benefit from her care and concern and her help! But, as a mom myself, I know that it would cause me intense pain if my Olivia ever got cancer. My Mom would be hurting right now and I'm glad to spare her that. I'd take the cancer a hundred times over if it would spare my daughter, stepson, grandson, husband, sister, brother, niece, nephew or godchild. So, rest in peace, Mom. We'll handle this. And we'll win, too!

David

My husband, David, is the best! I could not have a better partner to help me throught this. Dr Fishel told us that for the next 6 months, I can pretty much get whatever I want - just out of sympathy! But, I'm going to try hard to give David some breaks along the way. He is so wonderful, he wouldn't necessarily ask for a break. So, everyone - call David to ride and ski and hike and get out of the house ANY time. Even if I can't go anywhere, get David out!

Down the Hole

On Thursday, I talked to my oncologist about the chemo regime I'll be doing. She needed to get a verbal consent for the treatments. There are three main cancer drugs, Adriamycin, Cytoxan and Taxol, but there are also many drugs I'll be given to combat side effects. Drugs to prevent nausea and vomiting, steroids to prevent swelling and reactions, drugs to help my blood continue to create red and white cells, drugs to lessen the severity of mouth sores and skin rashes, etc, etc. There is not much they can do to prevent hair loss and fatigue, though. These are not things that might happen, these are things that will happen. This conversation made me feel like I was falling down a dark hole! I haven't cried much about getting cancer but I did then. A few minutes later my good friend Jeff called and took me out with him to run some errands. We had some fun and talked about normal things, and, just like magic, I felt SO much better!

Day 1 of Blog

Hi, I just set up my first blog so that I can keep everyone updated on my status. I'm not a writer like my Olivia but I'll do the best I can! It's called The Posse because I need YOU to watch my back and back me up, just like a posse!

Two days before Christmas 2009, we found out that I have breast cancer. Nice Christmas present, huh? Finding out that I have cancer is bad news, but it immediately did two positive things for me: 1 - I have a focus! I had direction and purpose to my life before cancer, but with cancer there is a sharp, pinpoint focus and a very strong mission. Nothin' like it! 2 - I experienced an immediate, overwhelming outpouring of support and LOVE from family, friends, neighbors and co-workers. Feels like a tidal wave of concern. It's very lush and full; very sustaining. It may sound odd, but at this point, the elation of being on the receiving end of all that love and support far, far outweighs fear and dread. I sleep well and feel happy. That's got to be good for cancer fightin'. Thanks!