Is This Where I'm Supposed to Make Lemonade?

Hot Flashes, Night Sweats and Bed Head

2011-05-10T03:51:00.000-07:00

I wish I had posted more frequently here. While there wasn't much going on, there was 'stuff' worth noting. So again, I need to catch up a bit.

I was expecting the next step to be my first mammogram since my diagnosis, scheduled for March 26th. But in the weeks leading up to it, I realized that my left breast was hot, especially compared to my right. So I called my ObGyn, who suggested I call my surgeon. After an office visit, I was put on antibiotics. We both agreed I seemed to have something like mastitis, some sort of infection. I had also had a fever, but had come down with a cold at that time. So there really weren't too many other symptoms.

Two weeks of erythromycin didn't change anything. A different antiobiotic for a shorter duration was prescribed. I had already moved up my mammogram once, which made necessary the rescheduling of my April 4 appointment with my radiation oncologist. So I kept the new April 6 diagnostic mammogram, and was scheduled to see my radiation oncologist on May 2. I was in the midst of the second round of antibiotics when I had my mammogram. Read by a radiologist while I was there, I was informed that it looked fine, and that if there was some sort of infection, it wouldn't show up on the mammogram. It was suggested that I follow up those concerns with one of my doctors and left at that.

I decided that instead of continuing with the surgeon that I would wait until my appointment with my radiation oncologist, Dr. H. My surgeon had told me that radiation can sometimes result in mastitis, so I thought I could look into this possibility further when I met with Dr. H.

I was reassured with Dr. H's explanation of healing, which can take up to a year. As when the tip of my finger can feel hot when I have a cut there, so does my left breast, occasionally. It is still healing. I have no other symptoms. Dr. H assured me that I have no infection.

I will see him in 6 months, at which time we'll decide if I should have a mammogram at that point, or wait for a year. In a recent study that Dr. H had been involved in, 87 patients with my type of bc, who had been advised to have mammograms in 6 months, saw no change at that time and no difference in the first 6 month mammogram, and the subsequent 6 month one. While I have a letter that states I should have a mammogram in 6 months (from the radiologist), so legally, that is what I should be doing, I'm comfortable making that decision after my next appointment with Dr. H.

So, back to the hot flashes. The hot flashes. They've become worse in the last month, waking me more frequently at night. I sleep on a towel, with another on my pillow. Intense enough to wake me several times a night, I go back and forth between flipping off the covers, laying spread eagle atop them, and once I've 'dried off' huddling back under the covers, chilled. Back and forth.

Daytime is similar. No turtlenecks this winter. Not even long sleeved shirts most of the time. Layers, baby, layers! Tank tops or short sleeve tees, under a light sweater. That sweater is off, then on, then off again, then on. The biggest problem during the day is that I get wet and chilled more easily than at night. Marc, the kids, and close friends just smile and nod, and if they're too close, move away til it passes. Cuz I'm hot to the touch. Hot to be around. Impossible to cuddle until it passes!

When I saw my medical oncologist, Dr. N, in January, she gave me a prescription for an antidepressant. Apparently, an unanticipated side effect of some antidepressants is that they temper the severity of hot flashes. Might mean a peaceful night's sleep, something I haven't had in several months! But when I told Marc, he thought adding another drug to the mix was unwise. I now take synthroid and tamoxifen upon waking. The antidepressant would be taken at night. Every night.

So for now, the bottle of antidepressants sits untouched. When I wake and ruffle the covers or rise to dry myself or grab an extra blanket, Marc rolls over and goes back to sleep. Sometimes, he continues snoring, seemingly unaware. I think he's become accustomed to my increased tossing and turning and is able to stay sleeping.

Wish I could. Stay sleeping that is! I rarely wake in the morning feeling well rested, and have found myself to be less productive in the evenings. I'm often dozing off before the kids are in bed. Frequently, I wake after 10, temporarily rested, and can't fall back asleep for an hour or two. I'm now realizing that I need to make the most of that time and take care of some chore, or perhaps update my blog during that time.

The combination of those soggy nights and ever changing hair length has also made for some interesting bed head looks in the morning. No more running out to the bus stop without a peek in the mirror first. Some adjustment is usually required. I'll try a bit of water and fluffing up the flat spots to even out the look. Most of the time that works, but sometimes, it just makes my hair wild, giving it a life of its own. Last week I had one of those mornings, and I'm sure my flyaway 'do' was the reason for the strange looks and stares from the windows of Gaby's bus last week.

But most days, after washing, it doesn't look too bad. Curlier than it's ever been, it is indeed easy, even though any kind of style is somewhat limited!

My curls, last Saturday. Darker than I was wearing it, this is my own colour. And the bits of grey are so evenly distributed that they're not really noticeable. At first, my hair reminded me of my Mom's, the look she achieves with regular perms and styling. Lately, the wave in the front remind me more of my Dad's hair. The length too!

All a part of the process of recovery, healing, and moving on.

And for the next 5 years, Tamoxifen

2011-01-13T21:05:00.000-08:00

Because my breast cancer was Estrogen Receptor Positive, the week after Thanksgiving, I started my daily dose of tamoxifen It is supposed to block the effects of estrogen, and reduce the chances of the cancer reoccuring. As with the chemo, reading the possible side effects was scary. So far, nothing other than the hot flashes, which started after the second round of chemo, and haven't stopped. Now that's another long and negative post!

The end of Radiation

2011-01-13T20:55:00.000-08:00

Radiation wrapped up at a perfect time -- two days before Thanksgiving!

During radiation, Elise brought ANOTHER DELICIOUS dinner.

It was a BBQ chicken skillet pizza with a cornbread crust. Yum!

To celebrate the end of radiation, I finally took what I called my radiation pass out of my purse.

When I arrived, every day, I passed it in front of a scanner that read my unique bar code and let them know that I had arrived. Pretty cool system, actually. Once I had scanned my card/pass, I donned a lovely hospital gown and waited in the Women's waiting area until I was called back. On a good day, I was in and out in 15 or 20 minutes. On a bad day, I could be there for almost an hour. On one really good day I was back in my car 10 minutes after I had left it for the parking valet!

During my last full week of radiation, the clip fell off of my pass. I had debated whether or not to request a new holder. I figured for the last few days I could get by with the old one.

It was a good feeling to take this out of my purse and know that I didn't have to make sure it found its way back for the next day.

I had Marc take a picture of the radiated area. For me, and to share. I apologize if you find it unpleasant. Just scroll on past it if you prefer.

For the first 23 days, the radiation targeted a more broad area. My entire left breast. While my skin started to look sunburnt, I was fortunate that it was no worse than that. It felt a bit dry, kind of papery, but that was it. This photo was taken a week after I had completed radiation and just over 2 weeks after the broad area radiation was done. By that time the redness had subsided and it was looking more like a weird suntan.

Under my left arm, one of the scars is visible in the photo. I had two incisions: one to remove the tumour, and one for the node biopsy. The last seven rounds of radiation target the area where the tumour had been, and that's why there's a red triangle shape in that area.

Its been about six weeks since I finished radiation, and that red triangle is now a lovely brown colour, and the brown that covered the larger area is now gone.

At the time radiation was done, I was the lucky recipient of flowers from my Mom and Dad, and sister and her family.

Aren't they beautiful?! They were delivered the day after I was done, which was the day before Thanksgiving. Beautiful fall colours, they made a gorgeous centerpiece for our Thanksgiving table.

Marc also sent flowers.

What a beautiful way to celebrate the end of radiation!

Chemo Caps

2011-01-13T14:05:00.000-08:00

Around the time of my last lengthly post, my Aunt sent me an email with a couple of photos attached. She had crocheted several chemo caps for an organization that collects them, and was preparing to donate them in my honour.

I was moved to tears. Both she and my Mom had done this, Mom knitting and Auntie Judy crocheting.

I had saved that email with the attached photos, for this post. The first thing I did was move the photos from the email to the folder in which I keep blog photos. But they're not there, and they're no longer attached to the email. I've done several searches on my computer and have come up empty. But I did see a lot of images I didn't know were there!!

I didn't want to let Auntie Judy know beforehand, but now that this post is up and looking quite naked without the photos, maybe I can ask her to resend them so I can share them.

Cousin Jodene to the rescue. She saw this post and forwarded the photos -- thanks Jo!!

So here they are, lovely handcrafted chemo caps ready to be given to people who will make good use of them. I certainly know how appreciated they will be!

A close up of the tag is necessary.

Now you see. I'm still moved to tears. Love you Auntie Judy.

Another one of the many kind and thoughtful gestures made during this time. I can't say enough how blessed I feel. Thanks you crafty ladies. I love you both!!

Catching Up -- Again

2011-01-13T13:59:00.000-08:00

It's been over 2 months since I last posted here. Can't believe that! My theory is that, the combination of feeling better and Christmas approaching had me so busy trying to catch up with so many things that I had let slide. And of course, the Christmas season brings with it shopping, baking, decorating and gathering.

Finished up radation 2 days before Thanksgiving, started tamoxifen a week later, and that's about all I'm up to right now. Except for recovering from Christmas, Christmas travel and gearing up for Gaby's birthday celebration. And trying to do some catching up on my other blog .

Having said that, I should get started!

Thoughts On Hair

2010-11-05T18:36:00.000-07:00

I've written this post over and over in my head, but never put it to paper, so to speak. As time goes on and my hair starts to grow once again, I want to record as much as I can remember about this time of hairlessness.

Losing my hair as a result of chemo was not traumatic, but certainly a bit of a shock. Especially when handfuls of my long locks started falling away from my head. I was shedding more than Roxi!

But this is about more than the hair on my head. Chemo did a number on most of the hair on my body, especially that which I shaved or plucked -- it just ceased to grow.

I really didn't miss shaving my legs and pits, and loved giving the tweezers a rest. No brows or chinny chin chin hairs to rid myself of.

While the summer heat made me feel worse during chemo, it was nice to have smooth, if a bit pasty, chicken legs those times I ventured outside.

Actually, feeling crappy it was nice not to have to invest a lot of time in grooming. Showers were pretty quick. A little spot of shampoo on my scalp, nothing to shave. In and out in no time. And once I was out, I didn't have to deal with drying or styling my hair.

I saved time and money, though the cash was redirected to headcovers.com, a site from which I ordered several scarves and hats.

Chemo does different things to different people. I was frightened by the long list of side effects prior to starting, and relieved that, as with most drugs and medications, most don't apply.

Something else that Marc and I both noticed was how very smooth my skin was. Everywhere. My legs, my arms, my back. My elbows, which are always rough and wrinkly. Smooth. Break outs were minimal in the places that are usually problem areas.

Its been almost 2 months since I finished chemo. Besides eating and feeling more like myself, my skin has returned to its normal, and my hair is growing back. Sparse leg hairs, not much to pluck on my brows and chin, and almost a quarter inch of dark and grey on my scalp. I've gone from the soft pink puppy belly, to soft and fuzzy like new growth on a baby's head.

Sometimes, I go bare headed. Always at home, but occasionally, when I'm out. Truthfully, it's just been too cold lately to keep my head uncovered. I actually find the back of my neck even colder, as I'm used to having hair hanging down to keep it warm at this time of year.

Every night as I'm crawling into bed, the thought crosses my mind that I have to let my hair down before I lay down. It's not hanging around my face, so my first thought is that its pulled back. It happens every time. I truly forget that I don't have any hair on my head. Or at least, not much.

I may have mentioned this before, but walking around with no hair on my head draws attention, sympathetic looks, and prompts people to share stories with me. Often stories of their own status as a cancer survivor.

No one would ever wish to be battling cancer, but I must say its been an experience I don't regret. I don't wish it on anyone. But I do cherish the encounters with strangers, and the time and support of friends and family. The health care professionals. The strength and love and courage of everyone. Humankind is good.

Over the Radiation Hump!

2010-11-05T17:52:00.000-07:00

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel -- 18 down, 12 to go. Barring any cancelations, I will be done on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.

I'm having to take an hour out of every day, and work around that hour between 10:30 and 11:30 every morning. But that's it. Oh, and remembering not to apply cream or lotion of any kind 4 hours prior, to the target area.

I can eat what I want and it tastes good -- tastes like it should! My head is clear -- no chemo fog. And of course, no nausea!

Now, there is the problem of the hot flashes. Those have lingered and I expect that to continue. I've been doing a bit of research and confirmed that yes, chemo can put you into menopause. It was getting close to that time anyway, I figure! And hot flashes can be worse when chemo is the trigger. I figure I'm somewhat in the middle as far as hot flashes go. I'm painfully aware of them, and they're still waking me several times a night. But my heart rate doesn't change, and I don't think my face gets flushed. (I keep forgetting to check in the mirror when one hits) I read of women who thought they were having a heart attack as their heart rate quickens with each occurence. So while they suck, they could still be worse!

And the kindness of family and friends never stops. I appreciate the kind words, cards, emails and never tire of hearing from everyone.

I was surprised by a package a couple of weeks ago. Marc was away and it was our wedding anniversary week -- he always seems to be away that week. So I thought at first it was from Marc. But upon opening the box, which contained a vase, cut flowers, and chocolates, I discovered it was from Pier, Nate and the bubs. So sweet, so beautiful, and so delicious!

Gorgeous!

Confessing here that no member of my family saw these fancy chocolates. I ate them ALL! And not even all at once. I paced myself and ate one or two a day, so I am guilty of not sharing, and hiding them. From the kids, the dog, and the husband. I'm not proud, but they were oh so good!

The following week, our neighbor Jane, who lives around the corner, surprised me with these. In lovely pink foil and with a pink bow. Beautiful and perfect for the season.

Radiation Week 1

2010-10-18T20:06:00.000-07:00

Is almost done. Since I started on a Wednesday, for counting purposes, Tuesdays are the last day of my 'week'. And I am now in my regular time slot of 10:45 every morning, Monday to Friday.

I have yet to go straight to my appointment and back from home, so I can't say exactly how long it takes. But if I did, I'd leave home around 10:30. Today, I was on the table right on time -- 10:45 is when they called me back. And I was walking out to my car just past 11. Going straight home should take 10 minutes at the most at that time of day. So if the stars aligned, 45 minutes door to door to door. To be on the safe side, I allow 1 hour.

I think that's fabulous. Some people have to allow just that much in traveling time, sometimes each way, for every day of radiation. Hence the fatigue.

The radiation process at AMH runs like a well oiled machine. I have a card with a bar code, that I scan each time I come in. It let's the staff in the radiation area know that I'm here. I change into my two gowns, the first open to the back and the second, over that, open to the front, like a robe. Personally, I don't think the second is necessary since I only remove clothing from the waist up. Even if that first gown is flapping in the breeze as I make my way through the hallways, there's no show to be had. Different for the many gentlemen in for their prostates. I guess that's where the 2 gown idea came from. And why there is a women's waiting area and a men's waiting area.

Once I'm doubly gowned, I make my way to the women's waiting area. When it's my turn, I'm alerted by a page over the intercom system. Off to room 1, where's they're waiting to get me lined up.

I'm positioned on my back, knees bent, an ergonomic cushion for support, left arm slipped out of my gown, raised up into what is also a position specific to me. The device which holds my arm has different settings too.

I have no idea what the numbers they call out mean, but I know they're for properly positioning me to receive the correct radiation. A little wiggle and push here and there, and I'm good to go. I'm left alone and the machine starts humming.

There's also a display of numbers and settings on a monitor that's visible during the process. Red cross hairs illuminate the targeted area. First, from the left. After a minute or two -- and I promised Marc I'd try to remember to time this tomorrow -- the machine rotates over my head to send the second dose from the right. Another minute or two, and it's done.

I had imagined it a bit differently, but the way it's done makes sense. Coming at it from the side minimizes the risk of damage to other parts. Like my lung. Or my heart. So from the side is good.

When I'm done, the technicians return to the room to help me up and out of there. Til the next day.

Don my clothes, make sure the gowns find their way to the laundry bin, and out the door. Pick up my car and continue on my way.

My third day of radiation was last Friday, and it was the first time I had a 10:45 appointment. It was also the first time there was anyone else in the women's waiting area with me.

An older women, with an accent I have yet to place. She first asked if I had had chemo. (pretty obvious) I told her yes. She said she only needed radiation, no chemo.

She asked me what stage. I told her 1. She said she was stage 0.

She asked if I had a lumpectomy. I answered yes, and she said she had also.

She told me about a month and a half had passed since her surgery and her scar was almost invisible. She described the location, a straight line just above her nipple. Left breast. (more breast cancer occurs on the left)

Then she showed me.

And she was right. It was almost invisible.

I wondered whether or not I was supposed to now show mine. I did tell her I had two scars not one. Located more like in my arm pit.

With the double gown thing, it would have been difficult to share my scars.

Then I heard my name over the intercom. "Mrs. Pelletier, come back please". So off I went.

Five weeks to go!

Chapter Next: Radiation

2010-10-12T21:03:00.000-07:00

Starts tomorrow. Monday to Friday, for 6 weeks. I'll know more after tomorrow, but I figure it should take less than an hour each day.

Tomorrow and Thursday, my appointment is 8:45 a.m.. Friday forward, I will have a standing appointment at 10:45 a.m. The hospital is about 10 minutes away, especially at that time of day.

The most discussed side effect is fatigue, though it's not clear whether it is caused by the actual radiation, or rather the pace. The schedule. The having to do it every day. That's one theory.

Some people travel greater distances to receive treatment, and that can contribute to the fatigue. Having to fit in that extra time each day can be tough. Since my 'extra' time isn't as great, I'm hoping the fatigue won't be either.

I continue to be buoyed by the love and support of so many wonderful people, family and friends. Here and faraway. Wonderful hugs and kisses and words of encouragement. And cards. Crossing the border from Monique, and crossing township lines from Patti C.

Beautiful flowers from Sue & Jim, celebrating the end of chemo. They've been brightening these past few days, and that lovely ceramic pumpkin they're in will continue to do so for long after.

I'm one lucky girl.

Self-Portrait

2010-10-04T20:15:00.000-07:00

Photo by me. Inspiration by Jasmine

Jasmine hosts a monthly photo challenge. Last month's categories were 'beautiful' and 'old'. I had taken some photos for the 'old' category, but wasn't happy with them. Couldn't think of anything for the beautiful category. Jasmine emailed me and suggested I take photos of me with my new hair and submit them for that category.

The ideal would be to find a way to have Jasmine take those photos. She possesses some mad photography skilz, that girl! But since she's in Utah and I'm here in PA, I may have hair again before I have the opportunity to be in front of her lens.

Of the several I took, I emailed four of them. I didn't tell Jasmine which was my favourite, but we both chose the same one. And then she featured it first on that post -- what an honour!

You must check out not only that post -- amazing photography for both categories -- but her entire blog. She is an incredible artist who's mediums are endless: paint, paper, make up, film, you name it. And she's an awfully nice person too!

Goodness. Kindness.

2010-09-30T22:22:00.000-07:00

Continues.

A beautiful flower arrangment, from the Pelletiers, in Winnipeg. Brightness and cheer for almost 2 weeks.

Yummy chicken, broccoli and mashed potato dinner from Melissa, with home made rice pudding for dessert. Perfect for my tummy two days after chemo.

Spaghetti bolonese, an exotic salad and crusty Italian bread from Pam. We enjoyed this last week and it was perfect on a day where we had to run out again shortly after the bus.

Julie, caught in the act of delivering tea biscuits on an Sunday afternoon. Gaby just happened to have my camera in her hands as Julie arrived, and she snapped this photo! I'm glad she did, because the last couple of times Julie delivered tea biscuits, she managed to sneak them on our doorstep unnoticed, early on a weekday, on her way to work. Got you this time Julie!

Pumpkin chocolate chip cookies from Elise, left with Gaby last Sunday while I was driving Marc to the airport. Still feeling crummy last Sunday, I had decided it would be best to skip out the first day of Sunday school. Not sure if the other teachers had anything planned for the craft, I decided to just pop in and drop off big heart shapes and a bag of stickers, for first day name tags. They did have something prepared. On the way out, I ran into several people, including Elise. Feeling the need to explain both my appearance, and the direction I was headed, I let them know I was on my way home to nurse my head cold. Elise obviously picked up on that. Those cookies have been great with the many cups of tea I've had of late.

Goodness. Kindness. Blessings.

Hot Flashes and a Head Cold

2010-09-30T21:52:00.000-07:00

What a combination!

It's been more than 2 weeks since my last and final chemo and I'm finally writing once again. That high on Wednesday was short-lived. I crashed and burned Thursday and Friday, and slowly rebounded as the weekend progressed. The usual nausea, sensitivity to smells and most foods, fogginess, and quite lethargic.

And the hot flashes continued. Yes they did. And still are.

Chemo can push your body into menopause. Is that where they're coming from, and are they here to stay? Oh I hope not.

Haven't had a good night's sleep since these hot flashes started, which could contribute further to my state of rundownness (my word). Which in turn made it easier for me to pick up Nick's cold-that-we-thought-was-aggrevated-allergies. Started with a sore throat last Thursday and a low grade fever. Evolved into a full blown head cold with sore eyes. Muscle-sore, as in hurts to move them. A very strange symptom indeed, but Nick and I compared notes and discovered that it must indeed be a symptom of this strain of cold virus, as he had it too.

Feeling occasional chills with this cold just added to the extremes that the hot flashes bring. Cold, cold, shivering, bundle yourself from head to toe kind of chills, then, wham, a hot flash. Throw off the blankets and try to expose as much as possible, to cool this top to bottom heat. Anything covered feels even hotter, as if the heat is trapped, becoming more intense as it tries to escape.

Anyone who has experienced hot flashes knows what I'm talking about. I'm obviously much more of a complainer than my Mom. She went through this for years. I witnessed them on many occasionals. She might tug at her collar and fan herself a bit, but that was the extent of it.

After a week of the cold, and the fatigue that seems to plague me more week 3 than week 2, I'm looking forward to next Tuesday, the first '3rd' Tuesday in the last few months, that will be chemo free. I'm anxious to see how I'll be feeling then, and how much better food will taste!

Chemo is DONE!!

2010-09-15T20:12:00.000-07:00

As Dr. N said, it was graduation day! Thank goodness!

But there were a few hiccups.

Great weather this time, and we arrived right on time for my 9:45 appointment with the doctor, with chemo scheduled for 10. Now, this was really the only day we had some time restraints. We had to pick Nick up at school at 2:20 to get him to his 3:00 allergy shots appointment (for which we're usually 10 minutes early and taken promptly) and then get Marc home in time to turn around and head for the airport for his night flight to Belgium.

Hiccup # 1: no record of my doctor appointment. The chemo was scheduled, thankfully. But they couldn't find anything about the first appointment. As I was waiting for them to sort it out, which they assured they would, what seemed like a long string of people (not really THAT long, but in this situation it seemed like dozens when it was really 3 or 4 folks!) all coming in for their appointments with Dr. N. Of course they did get it all worked out, pleasantly, as always. Did I mention there seems to be all nice people working there. Only nice people.

So we were set back a bit, putting me in the infusion room, sitting in my comfy recliner, at 10:30 instead of 10. Perhaps I delayed things a bit, but since it was my last chemo, I requested, and was obliged with, a photo of this fabulous doctor and nurse team.

That's Dr. N on the left and Nurse B on the right. My medical oncologist and the breast cancer nurse for all patients at that location. I'll have to check her card and perhaps correct this to a more accurate description. They are as amazing, personable and upbeat as they look. And so professional, compassionate, patient, caring, all of those adjectives and more. I can't say enough how pleasant they have made every visit, every step of this decidedly unpleasant stretch of this journey. Love them.

In the infusion room, I've been in the care of equally adjective-worthy nurses, though never the same one. But they cover each other, so I might start out with a main nurse for the visit, but others step in and cover if she's busy with someone else, or my pump beeps when she's not around. This time, it was Patti, and she was fabulous. And again, so were the others with whom she tag teamed.

My vein, usually fine, appeared to be wearing signs of an old bruise, perhaps even from the last chemo. I hadn't noticed and hadn't felt everything. Because of the removal of lymph nodes and the subsequent risk of lymphodema in my left arm, no blood pressure or vein puncture of any kind is now allowed on that left side. So we're down to the right.

After getting slow to no flow in that vein, a decision was made to search for a new one. Closer to my wrist. Less meaty, a bit painful initially, but once she had it solidly set up, it was good to go. Since nothing started flowing into my veins til 10:50, I anticipated my ETC (estimated time of completion -- my acronym!) to be more like 1:50. Called Marc to tell him, only to have him tell me that he would be stuck on a conference call til 2:00, not leaving to pick me up til then. That stressed me, as I couldn't see getting to the school on time for Nick, which would make us late for the allergy appointment, and might get us back home late, and have Marc leaving late, maybe too late, for the airport. Not good.

In the end it all worked out.

Nick hopped the bus, and we got home 5 minutes before him. Picked him up on the way home from the bus stop, got to the Dr's building right at 3, Marc dropped us off and parked, so we were only a couple of minutes late walking in. Thankfully, as usual they took him right away. Then the obligatory 20 minute wait, they check the 4 injection sites, and we're usually cleared to go. Marc again left to get the car and picked us up at the door, which saved a few minutes once more. We were home by 3:40.

I forgot to mention that between Nick's and Gaby's departures for school this morning, a little elf I suspect to be Julie C left a yummy package of tea biscuits between the doors. So sweet and perfectly timed. I was looking forward to brewing a cup of tea, spreading on some chilled butter, and enjoying a biscuit.

I also forgot to mention that when we got home from the hospital, just before leaving to get Nick, there was another package on our doorstep. A box. From a Philly bakery. And a notecard from Helen. Explaining, among other things, that the box contained an apple crumb pie. And it looked delicious!!

But for the time being, the pie was safely secured on top of the fridge, one of the few Roxi-proof locations in our home, and we had to turn around to get Nick. With Marc's efficient driving, he left himself enough time for a slice of that pie when he got home. Of course Nick's was consumed at a more leisurely pace, though it's pretty much like Father like Son, the speed at which they consume almost anything!

Before Marc left, I checked the mail and found 3 cards addressed to me. From Steph, Gaby's teacher from last year, Pam, and another from Odette and Tony.

Shortly after Marc left, I heard a vehicle stopped outside, and beat Roxi to the door, closed her off from the action, which was a gentlemen walking up the drive with a floral arrangement. From my Mom and Dad, and my sister's family. Celebrating the end of my chemo, 2400 km away.

I tried calling my Mom but got her voicemail. I was so choked up I couldn't leave a proper message, and gave the impression that I was upset. Which I wasn't. Just ovewhelmed again.

This was yesterday. Along with loving emails from Pier and A. Judy, and Linda. Lots of supportive messages on FB. Another delicious meal from Nina, though I didn't have my camera this time! A promise of tomorrow's meal from Melissa.

And now, lots of plans for coffee, tea, playdates, in the near future. And I can't wait.

Right now, what I'm really working towards is two more good days like this. My friend Tracey, with whom I worked with for 10 years I'd say, will be in Parsippany NJ for the weekend, joining her husband who has been there this past week and next. When she found out she was going to be there for a longish weekend, she wrote and proposed we get together on Friday. I was crushed. Knowing how bad I had previously felt in those first few days after chemo, I had my doubts that we would see each other.

Now, Tracey moved to TX in 99, two years after we moved to PA. I really don't recall seeing her in Winnipeg once she moved (too cold to go back at Christmas, eh Trac?!) Two years ago, we reunited with our potluck friends here, for our Six in the City and Wine Tasting Adventure weekend. It was fabulous, but I haven't seen her since. She, the giver of the beautiful blue scarf I've been wearing, would be the perfect person to see right now.

That's my plan, my hope. A real life hug from Tracey on Friday. I'll let you know how that turns out!

Gaby, my supportive caregiver and sidekick in all of this, took my 4th and final photo in front of her beautiful poster.

Fourth. Final. DONE!! Yahoo!!!

I will carefully remove that poster soon, and preserve that lovely portrait in the scrapbook I plan to put together. I'm stuck on the title 'When you have cancer . . .' I figure it's a good one to run with.

I've been collecting papers, bits, cards, photos, emails, you name it, to include. Got the book, the paper, just gotta get going. Soon.

And I've got to get back to my journal, a gift from Lynn, that I've been using to record notes, memories, events, gifts. PKay sent another card recently, as did Dave and Deb. Missy made sure Gaby got to soccer practice tonight and Coach got her home. Carole's assured us she'll get Gaby to the ice cream social at her school tomorrow night. They don't want to miss that, and I just might have to this year.

I don't want to forget all of the goodness. I've saved all of the emails to print. I could do the same with all of the FB messages. All for that scrapbook I've just got to get started on.

In the meantime, opportunities like these continue to present themselves.

Snapped this picture mid-morning. More goodies in the door.

Homemade cinnamon buns, a lovely card and even the newspaper between the door, from dear Nary.

(In keeping with my effort to maintain this 'good feeling' I'll save the details of this day after, for another post and make sure I get some sleep. After drinking as much more water as I can!)

Round Last tomorrow (and new side effects!)

2010-09-13T21:50:00.000-07:00

I am thrilled that in approximately one week, I expect to be eating somewhat normally, driving, walking, talking, smelling, and feeling more like myself. I have noticed a true cycle, even in this short duration of chemo. I've found that I feel best towards the end of week two, as the bone pain is done, and surprisingly, fatigue isn't too much of a problem at that time. I'm most tired the 5 days following chemo and the 5 or so days before the next chemo.

The side effects I've experienced have been nausea, fogginess (for lack of a better word - a feeling akin to having one too many mojitos), constipation (due to the nausea medicine, I believe), heartburn (due to the steroids) These are my first week side effects.

Bone pain kicks in the second week due to the neulasta, but taking ibuprofen makes it bearable.

After rounds two and three, I've experienced heavy tearing of my eyes, which I intially thought was conjunctivitus, but turns out to be a side effect. That and dry eye, which I thankfully didn't experience. The tearing starts about midway through week 2, and continues right til the next chemo. It does stop for a week and some after the chemo and starts again. Now, what will make it stop after the final round?!

After round three, I've been experiencing hot flashes. Oh yeay menopause! Possibly, though I asked ME, another friend who recently defeated breast cancer, and she recalls the same thing. And she's a few years younger than me! So hopefully, it's not menopause and will be gone, with the rest of the side effects, in a few weeks. Marc is getting tired of me ripping off my sleeping cap and covers in the middle of the night, and 1/2 later covering up and groping around for the cap, only to do the same thing again later in the night. Not sure how many times it happens, but enough for him to discuss the couch as an option! Now, if this IS going to continue and is due to menopause, we're facing several years of this. Sorry honey, you know what we said about for better and for worse . . .

I forgot to mention what is almost the worse side effect for me, which is the taste of food, or lack and alteration thereof. Those first few days, even chilled bottled water, the most tasteless thing of all, just does not taste good. And it's important that I drink alot those first few days, but oh so difficult.

I just pulled out the handouts that Dr. N gave me during my first visit. Detailed informatuon about the Cytoxan and Taxotere, the two chemotherapy drugs I'd been on. I was scared to death after reading that list of side effects, even though asssurances are included that you will not get all side effects, and the odds are included. If you think about the variety of medicines we take in the modern world, we generally don't worry about the long list of side effects that accompanies them. We all KNOW we won't experience them all. But this is different.

I'm lucky I can keep food down, even though it doesn't taste good. Loss of fertility: who cares at this stage of the game! I've noticed no changed in my nails, which can sometimes range from discoloration, to losing them.

No mouth sores, No peripheral neuropathy, no fluid retention with weight gain, ankle or abdominal swelling.

But I did lose my hair. Quite rapidly. But that doesn't hurt. It was a bit uncomfortable wearing a scarf or hat during the record hot summer we had. But the extra big smiles and sympathetic looks I get are nothing but heart warming. And I've had many people share their stories of simliar battles. Making these connections is all good.

I've saved time and money on grooming. Can't complain about that.

Let's just hope that I'm not speaking too soon and that round last will be the absolute worst! I really believe that what will get me through this, besides first and foremost the love and support of all of my amazing family and friends, is the fact that it is the LAST!!

Given that it is the last, I've been up baking cookies to take tomorrow, to those wonderful people who's job it is to get me through my chemotherapy, and who do it with such grace, compassion and professionalism. Every day.

I did take my lorazepam, so I should be getting sleepy soon. It's been about an hour.

But I must close with a card that I received yesterday.

Ann handed it to me after church. I'm not always certain if I should open these on the spot or save them. Sometimes they can bring on the tears, so I usually wait.

I should have opened this one as soon as it was handed to me. While Ann added her own lovely sentiments, I laughed out loud upon opening the envelope, and even her warm words wouldn't have wiped that grin off of my face!

Check it out!!

Isn't this awesome!?

Inside it reads, "But if it sucks the cancer right out of you, then 'yay, chemo!'"

And on the back: "This card was designed by Robyn, whose mother-in-law Roxanne used both chemo and jokes to fight cancer. She thinks you'll agree that jokes are more fun."

Chemo sucks and I'll be happy to kiss it goodbye!

A Birthday

2010-09-06T22:02:00.000-07:00

Mine. Turned 48 this year. A very quiet, low key celebration. Truthfully, celebration is probably not the best word to describe it this year. Round 3 was on Tuesday the 24th of August and my birthday was the 27th. Of course, THIS time round, my worst day seemed to be the Friday. Couldn't have been Wednesday or Thursday this time, as had been the case with Rounds 1 and 2. Nooooooo. I woke up Friday morning feeling horrible and just didn't get any better.

Gaby and my Mom spent the morning baking and frosting a yummy red velvet cake. Gaby also made one of her special signs for the occasion.

The birthday girl!

Lately, I keep telling people I feel better than I look in a lot of the photos I see of myself. Well, this time, I felt as bad as I looked here. What you see is what I was feeling -- pretty crappy! No make up, jewellry, flattering colours, nada. A beautiful little black cap that does nothing to enhance the look.

I was talking to my sister Linda on the phone here. She had called just as they were bringing the cake out, so we just kept talking.

It took me more than one try to blow out those many candles, and they did a bit of a melt job on the frosting.

We had ordered Rosario's for supper. A pizza and wings. They have delectible wings with just the right amount of heat for me and they always include blue cheese dip. On that day, I was having nothin' to do with them. Good old plain pizza for me. That's all I could stomach.

And I'm sad to say that I had none of that yummy cake. Not one bite.

That wasn't the case on Tuesday, when Mom and Dad took us out for my birthday dinner.

Check out my plate. Not a morsel left! We also had take out tiramisu and I polished off my portion as soon as we got home. That was a great dinner. Thanks Mom and Dad! ( they were there too but I didn't get a picture of them -- errors and omissions such as this I blame on chemo brain)

It also took me over a week to get a photo of the sign Gaby made. I actually put it back up today and had her pose in front of it with me. She wised up this year and didn't put an age on it, so that we can put it away and use it again next year, and the year after that. And so on.

Didn't she do a fabulous job?

Here's one more view of it. I should put these side by side like Life magazine, to see if you can find the differences between the two photos.

You've probably figured it out. Gaby's not smiling in the second photo.

Oh, yeah, and I have no hair. Actually, I had no hair in the first photo either, but my head was covered. So technically, it's that I have no scarf on my head in the second photo!

I think I wish I was brave enough to go out like this, because with the heat we've had, it would feel much much better. However, with that heat, I'd have to be mindful of the sun, and the possibility of burning this virgin skin.

I also really don't think I'd be comfortable with the attention, double takes and stares. I would certainly think twice about showing up at Gaby's school, or at church to teach Sunday school (Pre K and K) without something covering my dome. It's just such a distraction.

On the other hand, if I was away from home, on vacation, where no one knows me, I probably wouldn't think twice about it. I actually wore a two piece bathing suit on a dare from my husband (or was it a lost bet?) when we were in OCMD 5 years ago. And that was at the end of August, after having worn a one piece all summer, so it was glaringly obvious that I was wearing a new suit. But you wouldn't have caught me doing that at the local pool.

Perhaps if I was an athlete.

A story was featured on the news about a month ago about a local woman, a triathlete, and her past and successful battle with breast cancer. Going from the water to her bike to running, any sort of head covering would just be a hindrance, so her head remained uncovered. But she looked cool. Mall walkers just don't have that same image. We might wish we did, but that's just not reality.

The pace I keep, whether walking around the mall or the block, allows me to keep a hat on my head. I did get a couple of hats that are supposed to be made for exercise, and I do wear them for walking. They're also good for inside when the AC's a bit chilly. (with Nick's allergies, the windows remain closed most of the time)

I've strayed from the original subject, having a birthday during chemo. Sucks in some ways, but proof that life does go on. Cancer must be dealt with, fought, and defeated, 365 days a year.

And even though it wasn't much of a celebration, I was fortunate to be with my parents for my birthday, which doesn't happen every year. So that's a good thing.

Love from Canada

2010-09-04T18:29:00.000-07:00

My Mom and I are a good pair when it comes to remembering things. For now, I can lay blame to chemo brain, but anyone who knows me knows that, if I don't put it on my to-do list, I usually don't do. Chemo or no chemo.

Mom can blame both age and the brain aneurysm she survived over 13 years ago. Her short term memory just ain't what it used to be. It well could be the part of her brain that was home to the aneurysm. This was confirmed by her doctor. Or it might have just been at the same time that some memory loss would have become more evident.

Whatever our reasons or excuses may be, neither one of us remembered to view the photo CD that my parents brought with them, from my sister Linda.

Mom and Dad left in the predawn hours Thursday morning, and it wasn't til yesterday that I looked at the CD. Even though Linda had reminded me -- sorry Lin!

These are awesome pictures that I want to share here. Story to follow!

Cousin Jodene and her beau.

A. Judy and cousin Alissa.

A. Joanne and Mom

artists at work

Their art. Jay and A. Marianne.

A close up.

The dinner we missed.

Nephew Dustin and his cousin. (Jane or Kara -- sorry!)

BIL Dave, nephew Derrick, U. Armand

Mom and Dad

Cousin Grant, Claudia & Marco

U. Bob & A. Joanne

I was moved to tears viewing these and went through them several times. Thanks all of you for putting this together. I love you all and miss you all too. Terribly.

The story.

It's my Mom and Dad's 50th anniversary this year, October 15th. As we often do with family scattered about, we had planned to celebrate the occasion early, in the summer, when more of us could be together.

A date had been set with us in mind. The PA Pelletiers, who would be traveling to Winnipeg in August. August 22nd was in fact the date and family far and wide were notified.

My diagnosis and subsequent treatment put a big kink in the plans, which were on hold for awhile. In the meantime, my A. Marianne and her husband Jay had booked their travel from Vancouver, to be in Winnipeg for the party weekend.

Even though the big celebration was cancelled/postponed, they decided to stick with their plans and headed to the Peg as planned. So Linda decided to hold a smaller family gathering on the original day, before MA & Jay headed back to Vancouver. Just Mom's side of the family, for now. So those family members who could make it, did.

Wish we could have too. But even from this faraway, we're feelin' the love.

Did I mention how much I love and miss you all?

I do.

And thanks again.

Chemo #3 is DONE!

2010-09-02T14:37:00.000-07:00

A distant memory, and none too pleasant. Actually, the process itself isn't that bad, but that foggy, nauseous, hit by a truck feeling sucks.

(The only hair I have left, on Gab's beautiful poster!)

Truthfully, this time 'round, I felt surprisingly good on Wednesday and Thursday mornings. I thought it might be because I as soon as I woke, I raced downstairs to pop my Emend for the day. That's the anti-nausea medicine I take day of and the two days following. I read that it is more effective if taken before the nausea actually strikes. But those two mornings I also felt a bit more clear headed than the previous cycles, and I don't think the Emend does that.

I'd like to attribute it to the extra TLC from my Mom and Dad -- what else could it be?!

Even felt good enough to hit DQ on Thursday for blizzards.

Blizzards all around and a regular banana split for Grandpa.

Banana split blizzard with vanilla ice cream for me. I could eat these, craved them actually, through the first half of my pregnancy with Gaby. I'm so glad Nick reminded me of this, cuz we've made the trip to DQ after every round of chemo, in those first few days when little else in the way of food holds any appeal for me. And they've always been both filling and yummy.

Me and my Daddy!

But man, or should I say woman, cannot live on Blizzards alone, so eventually, I revert to my second chemo food of choice, which I also ate for a short time during my second pregnancy and haven't eaten again since. Until now.

Hamburger Helper. Beef Noodle. Only. Can't even think about trying any other varieties. And of course a cucumber salad, which is just sliced cukes dressed in sour cream and white wine vinegar, seasoned salt and pepper. The cucumber salad I could eat anytime. The hamburger helper, not so much. As I said, haven't had it in almost 10 years and don't imagine eating again once chemo is done! We'll see.

The other indulgence I've allowed myself is bottled water. Chilled in the downstairs fridge. I usually do not drink bottled water. Our fridge filters water just fine and I fill up my cool Kal LoveLife water bottle, keeping it in the fridge full time. But with the altered taste of just about everything I put it my mouth, I realized that I had a better chance of drinking more water by going bottled. Even IT doesn't taste great the first 2 or 3 days after chemo, but for me, it's the best tasting liquid at that time.

A case of 32 is $4 at Sam's and I do recycle all of the bottles. I DO intend to revert back to my old ways once chemo is done. But for now, this is how I do it.

And that's also a Zofran on the tray, another anti-nausea medicine I supplement the Emend with. The Emend seems to be very effective, but doesn't last the day. And I only have it for Tue/Wed/Thur and find I need to deal with nausea longer than that.

Besides the added bonus of my Mom and Dad being here to cheer me and take care of us, there is always the kindness and generosity of friends and family.

Amy brought over these beautiful flowers from her garden, as well as some equally beautifully arranged herbs, some veggies and some eggs from her chickens. The veggieswere yummy grilled! I added some mushrooms and onions as well as the zucchini Kathy brought over from her garden a couple of weeks ago and we had them for dinner when I was able to enjoy them (Monday)

Julie left tea biscuits in the door. Something else I feel like eating.

Cards from near and far. Janine, Jackie at the golf course, A. Verna and Andrea and Don. A collection of headcoverings and hats from Mary Ellen. Beautiful and appreciated.

Emails, IM's, voice messages, you name it. I would love to take more time to answer all of these beautiful sentiments that come my way. Like Peg and Jennell, who left messages on my cell phone, which I'm VERY BAD at listening to. I just heard them YESTERDAY, and I think they were a week or two old! Sorry ladies. And Heidi, I'm sure you found the information you were looking for elsewhere, as I just heard your message yesterday too! Sorry.

I feel I'm truly on the home stretch now. In two weeks, I'll feel crappy again. But it will be the last time that chemo will make me feel that way. And I'm thinking, because it's the LAST time, maybe that will perk me up and get me through it. We'll see.

Day Before Round Three

2010-08-23T21:17:00.000-07:00

In my mind, I try to get a lot done on this day, knowing that I'll be down and out for the next few days. I think the steroids help cuz I don't seem to get as tired as other days in this cycle. I guess that's why I have trouble sleeping on those days. I believe that's listed as a side effect. Along with heartburn, which, yeah, I get. But I haven't had the whirlies since the first time. Must have gotten used to that!

The day before and after chemo I'm required to take steroids, which are also administered the day of. I've been given lorazepam to help me sleep, which I confirmed is OK to take the night before chemo. Learned that the hard way, after getting no sleep the night before round 2. Round 1 also, but I attributed that to nerves. Turns out it was probably the roids.

So I'm sitting up in bed, watching the power slowing drain, waiting for the lorazepam to take effect, listening to Gaby breathing beside me, missing Marc some 7000 miles away in Tokyo, and so very thankful that my Mom and Dad travelled here to day to be with us during round 3.

Just as soon as it was confirmed that I would be undergoing chemo, they offered to come here, anytime, if we needed them. That's very comforting and reassuring. All of my life I've always been able to count on my parents and this is no different. Love you guys, so much!!

Their flight out of Winnipeg left late, so they missed their connection in Minneapolis. Instead of arriving here at 1:45, the flight they had to take was scheduled to arrive at 5:48. Now, it was early, which was a good thing. Normally, they take the train and I'm picking them up at Glenside at 4. Instead, it was 7:30. But they heerrreeeee -- that's all that matters. And they got to know that Twin Cities airport pretty well!!

Grandma and Grandpa travelled with one suitcase and a carry on. Good thing, cuz good ole Delta charged them $25 to check that bag.

If it wasn't for all of the goodies they bring whenever they visit, they could probably just get away with a carry on, or at least checking one bag and not having to deal with much of a carry on. Check this out!!

You cannot get Dad's Chocolate Chip Oatmeal cookies here. Nor can you get Caramilks. We've recently seen Aero Bars at Fresh Market but they cost a fortune. And you most certainly can't get Tenderloin Kube here. Nothing close! In Canada, or at least in Winnipeg, we call it kubasa, or kobassa, whether you're Ukrainian or not. It's known as kielbasa here, and I've yet to find anything that tastes as good as Tenderloin's. It's so lean and garlicky and yummy .Nothing like it! And because it's made of pork, and vacuum sealed, there's no problem bringing it across the border. Notice how we don't ask them to shop the duty free for us -- just chocolate and kube!

(Not pictured is a giant bag of dill pickle sun flower seeds for Gaby to share with Grandpa. They didn't waste any time getting their respective 'spitz' containers out and cracking a few dozen after dinner!)

Last but not least is my Mom's fruit cake. There have been countless jokes made about fruitcakes. Regifting, door stops, heard 'em all. But those people have never tasted my Mom's light (white) fruit cake. Give me a cuppa tea, Earl Grey with milk and a touch of sugar, a couple of slices of Mom's fruit cake and I'm in heaven.

You might be wondering about the date on the cake. When she makes the cakes in early fall for Christmas, the recipe calls for rum to be poured over the baked loaves. She then puts them inside a crock in the basement and they sit, and moisten til Christmas. Can't taste the rum, but it must both add moisture and act as a preservative, because we often eat them into the following summer and they fine.

Me, I think I'll have some for breakfast. During chemo, if it appeals to you, you eat it. And fruit cake for breakfast appeals to me!

But what I'm looking forward to even more is sharing breakfast with my Mom and Dad, even if they're not on board with the fruit cake idea themselves. Did I mention how much I love you guys?! XO

Driver's License Renewal means a new Photo

2010-08-19T21:29:00.000-07:00

My birthday is next week. Three days after chemo, which kinda sucks, but at least it's not the day of. But what that also means, every four years, is that I must renew my license in person and have a new photo taken.

I realized this when I received the paperwork in July, before I started chemo. I thought about it after round one. I was feeling good that second week and figured I should get it done, just in case I lost my hair. Remember, I wasn't really sure it was going to happen, and even if it did, I didn't know when. But I had thought it would be a good idea to renew my license that second week, the week of July 19th, just in case.

Trouble is, I didn't write it down on my list of things to do that week. I certainly would have had time, as Gaby was at Robbins Park every morning and there wasn't too much else planned. But the week passed, I still had my hair, and my license renewal was still pending.

That third week, exactly two weeks after my first chemo, the hair loss started. And as I mentioned in an earlier post, once it started, it came out fast. By the end of that week, when I again came across the renewal form, the week was too full to squeeze in a vist to the DMV. It was also the end of the month and it would have been busy. Really busy.

Mondays are our booked and busy days this summer, where I get Nick to his weekly allergy appointment and guitar lesson, as well as take care of food shopping and a couple of other weekly errands. It works well with the chemo schedule too, but didn't leave room that Monday before chemo round 2, to get that photo done.

Truthfully, by that time, there was little evidence of Annmarie's beautiful handiwork. The hair on the sides was still hanging on, but the hair on top thinned out quite fast over the weekend. Can you say male pattern baldness? I frightened and freaked out some people in my travels that day, wearing a regular baseball cap. Some didn't recognize me, some noticed the shorter hair and others seemed uncomfortable with the change.

I obviously wasn't visiting the DMV the week of round two. Last week I had decided that I would either visit or call, to see if I could postpone a new photo for several months. I had no idea what their policy was on head coverings and did no online research.

Well this week, Nary and I were trying to find a morning to get together for coffee. She mentioned she needed to get her license renewed. Now she's a September birthday, but since school starts again for her in just over a week, she wanted to get this taken care of before then.

Remember, I'm now dealing with some sort of conjunctivitis, so I'm unable to wear any sort of eye make up. Combine that with my new hairless look and it gives me a less than healthy, somewhat under the weather, appearance.

But that's not all. On Monday, when retrieving boxes from the front step, I imagined Roxi was approaching and swung around a bit too fast and off balance, to head her off. I caught a metal door stop type of device, with my nose, taking a chunk of skin and leaving an unsightly mark which is presently a lovely shade of navy with a hint of reddish purple.

I honestly feared it might be broken and iced it for a good while after. Gaby just shook her head, not quite getting how I had inflicted this upon myself. That made two of us. Of course my sister Linda wasn't surprised at all that my nose, of all things, got in the way.

So on Wednesday morning, I rushed back from mall walking, chose a fairly neutral scarf, made a futile attempt at eyeliner, and put some tinted clearasil on my nose, since I have no cover up. What a sight!

When we got to the DMV I took a number, to take my turn at asking the question about delaying the photo. Well it turns out that I could keep the scarf on, 'for medical reasons' and have the photo done that day. Trouble was, I hadn't paid for my renewal ahead of time, which would have meant I would have had the camera card in hand. Instead I had to take another number to wait for a different person to process my payment and prepare the camera card, then go back to that area to have the photo done.

I was a bit worried, since Nary's kids were at soccer camp that morning and we had to be done in time to pick them up. Now SHE had the camera card, and while I was asking my question, she was photographed and done.

We had to wait another 5 or 10 minutes before my number came up and I took my turn at the counter, cheque in hand, ready to pay. The woman processing the payment revealed that she was an 11 year cancer survivor, asked about where I was at in my treatment, and advised me to have a big party to celebrate the end of my treatments. Great advise, I'd say!

She also assured me I wouldn't have to take a third number to wait to have my photo done, but rather, would walk it over to someone who would make sure the photo could be done as is.

Well, the woman assigned to do the photograph, who appeared to be under cover of a wig, was in fact also celebrating the completion of chemotherapy for uterine cancer. She took her time, we exchanged stories, all the while going through the process of getting my new license. We agreed that this common experience we were in the midst of was enlightening. A good word that covers the education that comes with a cancer diagnosis. You learn about the process, you learn how very many people have and are going through the same thing, and you learn about how many skilled, caring and compassionate people work to get you through it. Enlightening, yes.

Now, she offered me a preview of the photo, as she did with my signature, before it was finalized. Not great. More like awful, but hey, it's a driver's license photo. My nose has a dark bruise and cut on one side, my eyes are void of make up and my head is covered with a scarf that I realized too late wasn't the best colour choice for this. A true DMV photo!

The woman who processed my payment, who suggested a party should be in my future, said that, while I didn't hear it from her, once my hair is back to a satisfactory length, I should come back in, pay the $12 fee and have the photo retaken. I just might do that.

In the meantime, I live with a classic DMV photo.

Nary's turned out much better than mine, but this is the best look you'll get of all of them.

With the holographs they use, I don't know how well it would scan, so even a scanned image might not reveal the true beauty that I could well have to live with for the next four years.

Catching Up & Cared For

2010-08-19T20:31:00.000-07:00

I've come to the conclusion that the middle week of my chemo cycle is the best. I think I'm so thrilled to be coming out of the fog that even the bone pain can't get me down. Slow me down, yes, but not get me down. I remind myself that the neulasta is doing it's job, regenerating those white blood cells and hopefully keeping more bad stuff at bay.

However, the bone pain did drag out a bit more this time. The ibuprofen did make it bearable, but it was around for 2 or 3 days. I made it to the mall for my morning walk with Robin and Heidi on Monday, but that was it for the week. I had a lousy sleep Monday night with a middle of the night hot tubby (yeah, bone pain) so caught up on my sleep instead of walking. Wednesday we decided to take in the free morning movie at the Regal with the B's, so that was my excuse for not walking, and Thursday we were packing for our overnight to Rehoboth. That was a lame excuse, I know!

We drove to Rehoboth for an overnight with several people from our church. Elise and her family have spent summers there for forever, and they were our hosts. Two vehicles and a total of 9 of us joined them for a night and beach day, which didn't meet expectations due to the rain. Yeah, the rain that started up again as we were loading the car to leave, and hit yet again, with full force, after our pizza dinner on the boardwalk. Just bad timing and a prelude to more adventures on Friday the 13th. It was still a lot of fun and gave us some great stories to tell!

Marc was in India last week and had arrived home by the time we got back Friday night. Both of us noticed upon waking Saturday that our eyes were kind of gunked up. We attributed it to the open windows and possible pollen or some other sort of allergens, though neither of us are prone to seasonal allergies. Mine continued and seemed to get worse, so today, I visited my doctor, to determine whether or not it might be pink eye. Just what I need right now!

After walking with Robin this morning (4 for 4 this week) I called my doctor's office and they offered a 10:00 appointment. It was already 9:15, so I raced home, showered, dressed and headed back out the door. A benefit of no hair on my head and super slow growth on my legs and pits is how very fast I can shower and be ready. Add to this the fact that I'm wearing no eye make up because of the constant tearing and gunk (no itching or swelling I might add!) and I had no problem getting to the doctor's office on time.

He wasn't 100% sure that it was pink eye, pretty much eliminated allergies, and gave me a prescription for antibiotic drops, which I'm administering every 4 hours. I've only done it 3 times so far, and haven't noticed a difference yet. It should take at least a day, I've been told, and I must continue the drops for 5 days.

Now Marc's eyes aren't bothering him anymore, so we're not sure what that means. Is my immune system in its somewhat compromised state unable to fight this off on its own? Dunno. We'll see what the drops do.

This week has been mostly about cleaning Gab's room and readying for this weekend's yard sale that she and her friend Claire are holding at Claire's house. That and yard work, birthday parties, build & grow at Lowes, big concert for Nick, and catching up with friends we hadn't seen much of this summer.

And being cared for. In so many ways.

The week of my second chemotherapy I received a package in the mail from Jean, the lady who was at Annmarie's when she gave me my beautiful haircut. This is what was in it:

Jean and I are are now FB friends and looking forward to a shared appointment at Annmarie's sometime at the end of the year, when I hopefully have some hair for her to work with!

Last Tuesday FedEx was at the door early in the morning with a package from my cousin Darren and his family in NYC.

More beautiful head gear! These I have to fight Gaby for. I must admit they do look good on her. Really good! I like them as an alternative to scarves. Something different. And they're quick, for when someone comes to the door unexpectedly and I don't want to scare them with the Kojak look, especially if I don't know who it is!

That's exactly what happened on Wednesday. There was a knock at the door and the kids and Roxi answered it. I scrambled to put something on my head and was met by Maria and two quarts of Rita's! Awesome, and perfect for the heat and humidity that's been our summer, and for me, with my 'compromised' appetite. Most things just don't taste good, but I can't go wrong with water ice. Black cherry and tangerine. Yum!

Returning from Rehoboth late Friday night, I had to wait til Saturday morning to pick up the held mail. There was a card from Cathy (and Kathy, I didn't properly acknowledge your card, as I gave credit to Cathy instead! you two kind of go together in my mind, but I know I mentioned the wrong Kathy/Cathy last time, so thanks to both of you!) and a package from Jasmine. A variety of Arbonne skin care products to use on my delicate skin. Fabulous Jaz!

During chemo, one is supposed to take extra special care to moisturize and protect, and Jasmine is an expect in that field, so she sent some goodies for me to try out. It's too bad you're all the way over in Utah Jasmine, as I could use some eyelashes. The brows are still holding on, but the lashes are pretty short and sparse. Which might be a good thing right now with this conjunctivitis thing going on!

Because my eyes were already bothering me when this arrived, I've yet to try it. I'm chomping at the bit to get my eyes healed so I can use it.

Kathy had contacted me last week about bringing over another dinner. After the last meal she blessed us with, I wasn't about to refuse, so we agreed on Sunday. Check out the spread she and Ashley delivered!

Spaghetti and meatballs, bread, salad with extra veggies from the garden and pizzelles. Kathy said she had to hide the pizzelles she was saving for us. Oh so good! And a bottle of wine, which I'll save to celebrate the end of chemo. Since the fog the chemo brings feels similar to having consumed 'one too many', I don't want to intensify that feeling right now.

Anne delivered a delicious dinner on Monday. We were still enjoying Kathy's dinner that day and for a lunch or two, so I'm not surprised that the food that Anne brought was still part of today's dinner. Every meal that we've been fortunate to receive has been good for at least two dinners and a lunch here and there.

Fruit salad, green salad, banana bread, turkey and couscous. So much and so good!

Yesterday afternoon, shortly after hearing the UPS truck, I asked Gaby to check out front to see what the man in brown had left. To her surprise and mine, there was a goodie bag between the doors, from Heidi and Kait.

An assortment of snacks, cheese, crackers, apples, cookies, caramel corn and chocolate covered cherries. What a lovely and delicious surprise! Gaby claimed the popcorn.

A card from Jill was also in yesterday's mail, and my Aunt Lorette sent a card all the way from North Pender Island. Just because the mantel's full doesn't mean we're not finding a way to enjoy all of the cards and their beautiful sentiments. It's always so nice to receive them -- I'm very thankful and very blessed.

Chemo - 2 down, 2 to go: Resurfacing

2010-08-08T15:51:00.000-07:00

Second round of chemo was this past Tuesday. Its now Sunday and I'm still feeling fuzzy, nauseous, blah.
Worse than the last time? Perhaps.
But we're certainly as well taken care of as last time!

Nina delivered dinner on Monday: brisket and kugel. We enjoyed it Tuesday and Wednesday, and I had some myself on Tuesday.

Gaby spent Tuesday at Ashton's, Wednesday with Sarah's family, slept at Claire's Wednesday, slept at Ashon's Thursday, was back with Claire's family Friday and Saturday afternoons. Nick, more self sufficient, was back and forth with friends.

Liz delivered a yummy taco dinner on Thursday which also served us for two dinners.

I must stress that even though I don't feel like eating much, I'm thankful that my family is well fed. I don't feel much like cooking either, and if left to their own devices, my children would be eating too many hot pockets and bowls of ramen.

The chemo itself was routine. No surprises, same as last time. Getting an on time start meant that I was actually home around 1:00 on Tuesday. I did take it easy, but more because I was tired from having gotten only 1 hour of sleep the night before. Next time, I'll take something to aid with sleep, as the steroids I'm required to take keep me awake.

I posed with Gaby's sign when I returned home from round 2. She had modified the sign last week, with a portrait she had done, using my REAL HAIR. Pretty cool, isn't it?! And this is my new look. I wore Trac's scarf and Liz's earrings for my second round of chemo. Quite fashionable, don't you think?!

The EMEND that I was prescribed for nausea didn't seem to be that much more effective than what I was given last time. But perhaps the nausea was actually worse this time and would have been unbearable without it. Don't know. This is supposed to be the heavy duty stuff, the big guns. Last time, I felt nauseous for several days following chemo and there wasn't much in the way of food, that I found appealing. I stuck to several foods that I recalled eating during my pregnancy, especially with Gaby. A week after the chemo my appetite started to return, though some foods continued to hold little appeal.

I guess I was expecting it not to be as bad this time, so I'm disappointed. But as I said, who's to say that it wouldn't have been even worse without the Emend. Two theories that were explained to me about chemo: one, that your body gets used to it and each treatment isn't as rough as the previous. I like that one and was hoping for that scenario. But, perhaps the second theory applies to me: the effects from the chemo are cumulative. It's in my system and with each subsequent treatment I'll feel worse. If that's the case, I'm glad I'm only facing two more treatments!

I was determined to get through this one 'faster' than the last. I've read and been told to drink a lot in the first few days after chemo, to flush out the bad stuff. I stocked up on just plain bottled water for round two. The first time, I tried iced tea, which I love, and from there went to water with just lime or lemon. Ginger ale wasn't bad, but I couldn't drink an entire glass unless I was eating. But I was sure that plain, cold, bottled water would go down well and be just the trick to flush away the bad.

What I've discovered is that even plain cold bottled water has a funny taste after chemo. I tried, but I don't think I drank more than 4 1/2 l bottles on Wednesday, and not sure if I even got to 4 on Thursday. So that could be part of the reason why I felt crappy for several days after.

I took the Emend on Wednesday and Thursday as directed, and supplemented with another anti-nausea medicine that I had taken the last time. Again, I just have to believe that I would feel even worse if I didn't have these.

Also had to take the steroids the day after, which meant also taking Pepcid, since the steroids give me heartburn. Oh, and since the steroids can also keep me awake, it's OK to take something to sleep that first day/night after. It's kind of comical, the meds, and the side effects and the meds for the side effects. I just have to keep telling myself two more times. Radiation will probably be a walk in the park after this!

Gave myself my neulasta shot on Wednesday. All by myself. I took some photos with the timer, but I don't see the point of sharing my fat belly roll with me plunging a needle into it! It's actually a bit out of focus, and certainly not terribly flattering. I can share some of my bald shots if I really want to freak people out!

As always, calls, emails, IM's, cards keep me going. Words of encouragement and offers of help continue to come our way and I'm so thankful. A. Judy, Maureen and Cathy added cards to the collection on the mantle and there's no longer room for all of them any more.

(If you look closely you can catch a glimpse of my pale bald dome!)

Yesterday, I was reading the Parade magazine that comes with the weekend paper, and there was an exerpt from a book by Susan G. Komen's sister Nancy Brinker Promise Me It moved me to tears, not surprising, given my situtation. But it made me think about how fortunate I am to be fighting this fight at this time. What Susan Komen had to endure seems unbearable. She and her sister were and are, the true face of courage. This book comes out September 14th, my last scheduled chemo. I'll have to get myself a copy.

Like A Puppy's Belly!

2010-08-03T17:51:00.000-07:00

That's what my scalp feels like right now. There's so little hair left that I can get a good feel! Soft and a bit loose in spots. Reminds me of Roxi's 'pink part' as we liked to refer to the hairless part of her belly when she was very young. It's still pink but the fur has long since grown in, and it's just not as soft. But we now have my scalp to recall that memory. Though it's not as cute!

The Awesome Annmarie!

2010-07-31T06:28:00.000-07:00

Check us out!!

Don't we look beeyouteafull?!! We both have Annmarie to thank for that! She always looks amazing and makes magic with my hair, which at the best of times is somewhat fine and sparse. She manages to make it look and feel wonderful.

But she really rose to the challenge yesterday, when I showed up with easily half my normal head of hair and asked her to shorten it.

The last time I wore my hair short was 10 years ago when I was pregnant with Gaby. And I didn't really care for the style then. But it wasn't Annmarie who was caring for my hair then, so perhaps that's why!

Yesterday, she worked magic and we both loved the result, as did Jean, who was actually 'processing' while I was there.

I came with clean wet hair. Not my norm, but given the amount that I was shedding, I chose to take care of it at home rather than ask that of Annmarie. It was coming out by the handfulls. In my wise decision to stop brushing it after last washing it on Tuesday, I think I made the situation worse. I always put my hair up in the summer heat, and when I took it down Thursday night before bed, it was a loose and matted mess. Except that this time, when I was trying to untangle the matts, the hair would just come away from my head. Kind of creepy, actually. Once it's away and gone that's fine, but pulling my hand away from my head and seeing what I call gorilla hands (hands covered in hair, like when we bathe Roxi!) is a very strange feeling. Knowing that it's your own hair.

What was also weird was looking at my hair, and part (line, as Gaby calls it) before stepping into the shower yesterday morning and seeing how much it had 'widened' once I was done.

However, you wouldn't have known how little Annmarie had to work with when you saw the final result. She actually started cutting with a different style in mind, then changed her mind halfway through. An artist with a vision!

I love it and wish I had more time to enjoy it!

Written advice and accounts that I've read about chemo and hair loss suggest cutting your hair short before you start losing it. But a part of me still didn't know, for sure, if I was going to lose it. You don't really believe it until it starts to happen. Nurse Betty didn't say I might lose my hair, she said I WOULD lose it. And she should know! Even now, it's happening, and I know it will be gone soon, but I still can't envision it all gone. I do know that now that I have my new hair style, I wish I had cut it sooner.

Annmarie styled and scrunched it and used hairspray not only to hold the style, but to hold those hairs in place a little longer. It looked great all day, for my lunch and trip to IKEA with Nary, for my dinner at LuLu with Marc and for my night out with Carole and Elizabeth to finally see Eclipse. (I'll also mention that Nick spent the afternoon and evening with friends celebrating one of their birthdays, Gaby enjoyed another marathon Monopoly game with Sarah all afternoon, and Marc got his weekend off to an early start with a Friday afternoon round of golf)

I always enjoy my appointments with Annmarie. A chance to catch up and laugh. Yesterday was as much fun as always. Occasionally, there are other clients there and they're always nice people too. Jean was certainly no exception.

I'm thankful that Gaby came along to snap photos, even though I think a visit with Buddy the dog was more her motivation.

I'm thankful for Annmarie and the gift of this haircut. Yes, when she was done, I was told that this was a gift. Thank you Annmarie! You know how much I love it and as I said, I only wish I could enjoy it for longer.

Gaby snapped quite a few pictures from different angles, so we do have some images to reference when it starts to grow back and I finally have enough hair to style again.

Many people who experience hair loss due to chemo find that when their hair begins to grow back it can be a different colour, thicker, curlier. I'm hoping for all of those, unless the different colour is all grey! Though Annmarie also works wonders with colour, so that should be the least of my worries.

Many say that hair loss is the most traumatic of the chemo ordeal. Too early to say at this point, but it's certainly strange and unlike anything else I've experienced. I'm sure I'll have a better idea after a few months of hairlessness. But what I can say is that, like everything else I've been through since my breast cancer diagnosis, going through it with the love and support of so many amazing people, family, friends and sometimes even strangers, is what makes it manageable. They certainly buoy me.

Thanks again Annmarie!

Cook For A Cure -- Recipe Books Now Available!

2010-07-29T18:01:00.000-07:00

My lovely friend Jasmine was working her buns off last year collecting, as she put it, delectably delicious, divinely sinful, family favorite recipes, from her friends, family and fans, for The Cure Congenital Muscular Dystrophy Cookbook. It is now ready for advance ordering! I've placed my order and received confirmation that it will ship mid-August. Can't wait!

If you're interested in ordering, please following this link to Jasmine's blog, the post with the ordering information.

If I didn't know about all of the scrumptious recipes inside, I could be tempted to purchase it just for the fabulous cover art. Jasmine and her son Isis are the creative force behind it. Isn't it awesome?!

Please consider checking it out. It's in support of a great cause!!

Hair Today, Gone Friday

2010-07-28T10:27:00.000-07:00

Trac, the timing of the scarf was perfect. I will, in fact, need it!

Monday night, when I took the pony tail holder out of my hair, more hair than usual came with it. Yesterday morning, when I ran my fingers through my hair, same thing. My friend Elizabeth compared it to hair after childbirth, when we start losing it again. I thought that was a good comparison, cuz it's coming out by the handfuls.

And yesterday when I was showering and gingerly shampooing my hair I thought how ironic it was that I had to be so very cautious with the remaining locks on my head, and still had to worry about shaving my legs and pits. The tweezers aren't going to get a break either, from what I can tell.

Last weekend, my hair started feeling 'sore'. You know that feeling when your hair's been up/tied back for too long? You really notice it when you release it, as if it's been bent the wrong way for too long. Well, I realized my entire scalp had been feeling that way and didn't put two and two together til yesterday. I'm guessing it's all part of literally letting go of my hair.

I went out for coffee last evening with some girlfriends. Except for some Moroccan Oil, I made no attempt at further product or styling. Everytime I touch my hair, long strands fall away. So I went out with wet hair, and as it dried, I felt more hairs falling on my arms and shoulders, a tickle here and there. Shedding like crazy!

I realized I had to take the next step, and was lucky enough to reach Annmarie yesterday afternoon. I have an appointment Friday at noon for a short crop and we'll probably have to follow up in a week or two with the clippers. Sadly, I'm not the first person she's had to do this for, so at least one of us will know what to expect. I've trusted her with my hair for years and I'm so glad she's around and available to do this for me. Being summer, I wasn't sure if that would be the case, so I'm thankful it worked out. I feel much better placing myself in her hands.

I'm no longer brushing my hair as I'm trying to preserve it for as long as possible. I'm looking forward to a pixie cut on Friday. Something along the lines of Ellen's style perhaps. The only problem is that I can't style it and it's really starting to look unhealthy already, though that could be the lack of product that I'm too cheap to now 'waste' on my hair!

I tried to snap a 'last' picture of my hair this morning. I was getting ready to dash out the door for my 8:00 mall walk, and thought I tried myself, as the kids were still in bed. Now Manon does great self-portraits with her camera. I cannot. What you see is the best of a dozen attempts. Granted, I was rushed. But none were good. I didn't find this out til after I came home from my walk and put my hair up in a lovely camo scarf to bake cookies.

Be assured that I feel better than I look in this picture! Hadn't washed my face or applied make up of any sort, though there might be some of yesterday's residue. My hair's already looking sparse, though as I said, the brush is put away, so that doesn't help it's appearance.

Good morning!!

Yesterday's mail brought another surprise package, similar in size and shape to Tracey's from the day before. I should also mention that Tracey and Brenda, the sender of this package, are former co-workers and some of my potluck girlfriends.

It was another beautiful scarf in different, yummy colours, and the same lightweight cotton and fringe. Very

cool!

More emotion this time. Not because of the sender, though Brenda and Tracey would like to argue that! Because in the time that passed from receiving that the first one on Monday to the second one yesterday, I realized that I would need them. Something else that I will keep close to me, from two dear friends who are so close to my heart.

Great Days

2010-07-27T13:07:00.000-07:00

Have happened pretty much every day since my diagnosis. It really doesn't take much to make a day great. Those especially crappy days, like a day of surgery, tests, and now, chemo, can quickly be turned around in a thousand different ways.

Since my chemo started, Gaby asks pretty much every morning, how I'm doing, feeling, how I slept. A lovely way to start a day.

Since sharing the news of my diagnosis and this journey, not a day goes by where I don't receive some sort of message, not so random act of kindness, love. Meals, books, cards, phone calls and electronic messaging via email, text, IM, blog comments. All great.

Yesterday was a banner day. I received an email from my cousin Peggy. We just haven't kept in touch over the years and keep up on each other's goings on through our parents. But yesterday she wrote, sharing words of encouragement and support not only from herself, but from her parents and siblings too.

She also shared a quote:

Instead of asking, "Why am I having to deal with all of this? ask yourself what you most need to learn from your experiences. View the situation much like the butterfly must see its cocoon....as a barrier you must break through to become the extraordinary creature you were designed to be." ~Betty Mahalik~

Put a smile on my face and warmed my heart.

But that wasn't my one for the day. Yesterday brought the averages up!

I grabbed the mail on the way to drive Nick to his guitar lesson. It was fat and squishy, which can mean a package, which is always fun. Not one to wait, I was driving and opening. It was from TX, my friend Tracey, and I knew before I opened it that it was a scarf. A beautiful scarf. With a beautiful card in which she wrote that she knew I wasn't going to need it, but just in case . . .

Pretty, isn't it?

Turns out I missed some of the mail, which I noticed on my way back into the house. Two more cards. Both from Canada. More words of love and support from my friend Brenda, and a card from my Aunt Joanne, sending love and good wishes from the entire family. I hit the trifecta in yesterday's mail, let me tell you! Or perhaps I should consider it a hat trick! Either way, it was lovely!

Then last night, there was knock at the door, early evening. A neighbor, Mrs. R, whom I wave to more than talk to just because of distance, was at the door, to give me a hug and good wishes, as she'd just heard my news. She herself had gone something similar in February, unbeknownst to me, and she's doing very well. She lost her husband several years ago and has remained vibrant and independent; where I see her most is in her yard and gardens. Fit and positive, it was a delight to receive a visit from her.

Under the heading of great days, I should also mention last Thursday.

Gaby's friend had slept over the night before, and just as they were getting ready to head off to their morning at Robbins Park, there was a knock at the door. Julie and her Dad Steve, from across the street, were delivering dinner all the way from Delaware. They're my friend Elise's family (part of the family) and Elise had told me a couple of days earlier that they'd be coming in from their summer place, with a meal.

In the bit of commotion that resulted from them coming and the kids getting ready to go, I forgot to snap a photo. I'm sure Julie was relieved anyway.

Delicious pasta with chicken and mushrooms, salad, rolls, and a blueberry cake/streusel that Nick practically inhaled. Yummo!

After camp, Nary invited us for lunch. It was just Gaby and me. Nary made quesadillas and chicken for the kids and these scruptious noodles for us.

Good without hot sauce and even better with. But I don't keep up with Nary when it comes to hot sauce. She grew up eating it like I did ketchup.

We spent most of the afternoon there, Gaby and Nary's daughter playing monopoly for about 3 hours. They played one quick game and then started a second which still wasn't over when it was time to go home. Intense.

My Aunt Judy sends regular emails and I came home to one of her encouraging and uplifting emails. Subject lines like: "I'm Proud of You" warm my heart.

A relaxing day for me. The only food I prepared was scrambled eggs for breakfast. And of course, warming Elise's pasta. Easy day in the kitchen and yummy for my tummy.

No More Secrets

2010-07-22T20:21:00.000-07:00

From the day of my diagnosis, I've never really felt like I had cancer. Not that I had any idea of what that SHOULD feel like. But I didn't feel any different. Didn't look any different.

Having started chemo last week, that could change soon. In preparation, I did some shopping on etsy and one of my purchases has arrived.

It's a pretty batik fabric. Carole said it's me.

I don't think I'll mind the loss of my hair as much as the loss of my status. I'll go from blending in and being like everyone else, to, well, not.

This hasn't been a deep dark secret and I've never wanted it to be. But up 'til now, it's been easy for all of us to forget about it, put it out of our minds. Not that we do. We talk about it alot, especially since starting chemo. But it's just not staring us in the face.

When I took my prescription for the latest and strongest anti-nausea medicine in on Tuesday, I was asked what it was for. When I looked at the packet, it had chemo printed within the instructions for use. If there's a next time for filling that prescription and I show up with my new headgear, they may not feel the need to ask why I need it.

I don't think I'm prepared to lose my hair, because until it starts happening, I don't think it's gonna happen. If that makes any sense. It's not denial; I just don't know how, other than practical preparation like having a lovely scarf at the ready, you prepare for that.

In any case, it will make for some interesting posts, don't you think?

Dan Dan the Parking Man

2010-07-22T08:54:00.000-07:00

Dan is actually the parking ATTENDANT at the Cancer Centre, but I couldn't resist the rhyme. While I didn't watch the Gong Show much, we all knew about Gene Gene the Dancing Machine. Showing my age here. You know, the Gong Show, back in the 70's?! Google it.

Tuesday was my follow up appointment with Dr. N, the medical oncologist in charge of my chemotherapy. I dropped the girls off at their Robbins Park camp (Gaby and her friend) picked up a huge shaken black tea lemonade from Starbucks (where, by the way, the smell of coffee is still a sad turn off!) and headed to the Cancer Centre.

It's adjacent/attached to the hospital and has it's own valet parking. Just for people using that building and it's facilities. Nice, because it's small, close and during the week it's always the same person running the show. Dan always has a smile and a kind word -- a nice way to begin and end appointments and treatments that aren't always pleasant.

I had been thinking about a monthly parking pass for August, since I have two treatments and at least two appointments, and was going to ask Dan about it. Parking is $5 a shot and a monthly pass is $10.

Well, Dan beat me to it. He asked about my upcoming schedule and pointed out that the powers that be had just raised the price of parking to $7.50. Wow! So he suggested a pass that would be issued that day, Tuesday and expire with the end of my chemo, mid-September. Very nice of him, I thought, and we agreed to settle it when my appointment was done.

I was early for my 9:45, having come straight from Robbins Park, so I had expected to sit awhile. That was not the case. I was taken back after sitting for about a minute. Just enough time to get my magazine open. Weighed, BP'd and blood drawn. BP was kind of high for me, 127 over something, but no one seemed concerned. Weight the same as a week ago, which is good for going through a week of nausea and eating what I felt like. Bowls of salt and vinegar chips for dinner and containers of Kozy Shack rice pudding when nothing else tasted good. And can't forget the hamburger helper!

What also surprised me was that my blood levels/counts hadn't changed. I only know this because I get a copy of it and side by side, last week, right before chemo, was the same as this week. Does that mean the neulasta is doing it's thing?

I met with Dr. N and Nurse Betty right on time. The doctor said my counts probably haven't dropped yet, as indicated by the bloodwork. Nadir is the term applied to this, the low point. I'm not sure of the correct terminology. I can't remember if she said I hadn't nadired yet, or reached my nadir. I'll have to clarify that with my next appointment.

We discussed the bone pain, which was actually less severe Tuesday than Monday. I had taken ibuprofen Monday night and again Tuesday morning, which seems to help. Dr. N also said that based on timing, and what I had told her, that should be the worst of it. And she was right. I felt a couple of twinges throughout Tuesday, but nothing as severe as Monday. That's a good thing.

I was still feeling the foggy head/brain and nauseated, and told her so. Both she and Nurse Betty seemed concerned about this and suggested pulling out the big guns with respect to anti-nausea meds, for next time. I was given a prescription for Emend, a tripack of 3 capsules, and told to fill it asap, just in case. Meaning, just in case insurance doesn't agree. Precertification might be required and have to be requested by the doctor's office. Once the prescription is filled, I'm to bring it with me for my next chemo.

Having gotten an early start, I was out of there shortly after 10, got my lovely red parking pass from Dan, and headed to Target.

Sure enough, the gentleman behind the counter asked the pharmacist to look at the prescription, came back and asked what it was for, and then told me they'd be checking with insurance. Standard in a situation like this. So I was surprised to come back to the filled prescription, though insurance stated something about 30 days. Now, that won't work for my 3 week chemo cycle, but since we don't know how effective the Emend will be, its not a problem, yet.

I have been keeping track of meds, my food intake, and how I've been feeling every day, in the hopes that the period of time following each chemotherapy will play out in a similar way, and I'll be able to plan better, both for myself and the kids.

Interesting journey, this.

So This is the Bone Pain

2010-07-19T17:29:00.000-07:00

Silly me to think that I might not recognize it. Talk about discomfort. Painful. Worthy of prescription pain meds. Yuck.

I woke this morning at 4:44 a.m., extremely uncomfortable. My back hurt, and I thought I had just slept funny. Til I woke fully and realized this was a new sensation, right where Nurse Lesley said it would be. Lower back, pelvic area. I went downstairs and heated my lavender and flax filled heating pad thingy in the microwave, and tried that for awhile. When I found myself still awake and uncomfortable 45 minutes later, I decided a tubby was in order.

So I filled the tub and finished off my book club book, then shampooed my hair and even shaved my legs. All before 6:00 a.m. Efficient.

Popped tylenol as well, because that's recommended as the starting point. I was told that many people take prescription pain meds. While we have some in the house and I still have an unfilled prescription from my recent surgery, I'd rather not go there. The only thing I've been taking has been the pepcid for heartburn, and of course tylenol. But I needed to keep the heat on most of the day and I found walking and standing at times unbearable. Not to mention that I'm moving much slower.

I searched a bit online for some information on neulasta side effects and how different people handled them. Some people surprisingly found relief from Claritin (not D) and others said Ibuprofen or Naproxen did the trick. I think I'll try the Ibuprofen and see if it's a bit more effective.

On a positive note, I'm not really having trouble eating, but rather just finding foods that are appealing. So like when I was pregnant with Gaby 10 years ago. Even the same time of year. And so much alike, that, when Nick suggested DQ Blizzards last night in honour of National Ice Cream Day, we did! Banana Split Blizzard with Vanilla Ice Cream. Got a wee bit of fruit there!

So I'm missing this:

My spices. Seasonings. Food with lots of TASTE! I did have some chips and salsa today. I sampled a bit at Fresh Market earlier when I was in search of tea biscuits (which I didn't find) and I brought some of that Sarah's Salsa home.

I'm finding beverages that are working for me:

Water, of course, V8's tasting yummy and I think I've have to stock up on that skinny sport water. It's good and goes down easy, which will be important for round 2, where my goal is to try extreme hydration right after the chemo. It's supposed to make you feel better sooner. Worth a try.

I also know that walking will make me feel better, but until I get this bone pain under better control, I can't see that happening. Mall walking might be in order, to get out of this oppressive humidity, but probably closer to the end of the week.

I have my appointment with Dr. N tomorrow. I would imagine she'll be checking my blood to see where I'm at. Sometimes I feel a bit feverish, but everytime I've taken my temp, it's been close enough to normal that I don't have to worry. I'm interested to see how tomorrow goes.

For tonight, I'm popping that Ibuprofen, warming my heating pad, and turning in early.

The Weekend

2010-07-18T17:30:00.000-07:00

Quiet and uneventful.

Gaby spent Saturday with her friend Amy, swimming in this oppressive heat. Nick hung out with his friends day and evening. Marc packed for his overseas adventure. I, vegged.

I finished off the hamburger helper for breakfast yesterday (Oh if I didn't know better I'd think I was preggers!) Had a cucumber salad for lunch. The kind my Baba used to make, with sliced cukes, vinegar, sour cream, and seasoned salt. No dill and/or black pepper though. Since Nick's friends were going to be here for dinner, as well as Gab, and Marc would be gone, I ordered pizza. Good old Rosario's. A cheesesteak pizza, which I'm sure would have been much better with the onions and hot peppers. But that's for another day.

Not sure about the bone pain. Still feeling the nausea and foggy headedness. I tried one of the anti-nausea pills Friday morning, but haven't taken any since. Wednesday, I took the two different types as directed, and still felt nauseous, but who knows how I would have felt without it. All I've taken this weekend is the tylenol, and I feel better with than without it.

I've taken my temperature most every day and it's been normal or just slightly high, so nothing to worry about there.

I slept alright Saturday night, even with squirmy worm Gaby. When Marc is away, she usually sleeps with me. Even though she's a bit of a bed hog, she's a great cuddler.

This morning, Sunday, I actually made scrambled eggs with a bit of cheddar. A normal breakfast food for breakfast! V8 to go with it, which makes ketchup on my eggs unnecessary. My big plan was to try to walk this morning, hoping that would clear the fogginess that seems to linger in my head. But when I stepped outside at 7 a.m. it was 80 F, about 27 C, so I decided to use the Wii. You can watch TV and the Wii will time out a predetermined pace. I opted for 20 minutes and that was enough for my jelly legs. But it really didn't do my head any good. My friend Robin suggested mall walking and I think we might just have to try that. I think I'd feel better after doing that than steps on the Wii in my living room.

Chatted with Marc briefly on Skype this morning. Honey, I love chatting with you but I don't like when you decide to call me so that you can show someone else how Skype video works! Marc is in Zurich and I met his friend Hans and his entire family -- daughter, wife and son -- shortly after my Wii walk. Marc was at their home for dinner, and he kept trying to coax me into better light so they could see how great the video was! I was going all vampire, trying to stay in the shadows!

Gaby was invited to spend the day with her friend Claire. She was very excited, as they've been away all last week and the girls have a lot of catching up to do. They also planned to take her with them to another neighbor's for a cookout -- even more fun.

I decided on another outing to Target. Not rain nor hail nor sleet nor chemo will keep me away from Target when the school supplies go on sale. This week: binders! I figured I could kill two birds with one stone, since Target now carries a lot of grocery items. So besides the binders, markers, post it notes and mirror that I had promised Gab for the back of her door, I picked up LOTS of Kozy Shack Rice Pudding, vanilla yogurt, OJ, cereal, eggos, and some oranges. A beeline to Sam's for some frozen berries and I headed home. I should mention that I love smoothies with vanilla yogurt, OJ and frozen strawberries, blueberries, etc, but the one I tried to make on Thursday tasted yucky. I'm thinking it might have been because I had no strawbs, and the yogurt was sugarfree (Marc's) So I'll try again with my 'normal' ingredients and hope that it's better this time.

I spent quite a bit of time on the phone this afternoon with my friend Nina, who's son is friend of Nick's. This November will mark her 6 year anniversary as a breast cancer survivor. We had so much to talk about. Though everyone's experience in this battle is different, there is so much the same. So much that she went through and completely understands. It's comforting. Reassuring. In many ways, not the least of which, that, 'so I'm NOT going crazy' way. Especially this nagging, foggy head/brain feeling. Like I had just one too many cocktails. But it's been the next morning and the next and the next, and it hasn't gone away.

Nina said she remembers feeling the same way. She shared the story of her neighbor going through chemo at the same time, and how different the two experienced it. Reassuring to me, as this experience hasn't been quite as textbook as was spelled out to me. Which is also another reason to document it. I probably won't remember much once it's all said and done. We like to forgot the unpleasant things!

Nina also remembered a cook book she had acquired during her chemo: Eating Well Through Cancer . She said she'd look for it and drop it off if she was able to find it.

Not only did she find it and bring it by, she also brought over a bottle of Skinny Sport Water, pink berry citrus flavour. It's chilling in the fridge right now. She had picked them up at the Shop 'n Bag this afternoon, gave me my choice of most appealing flavour, and delivered it, with the cook book, shortly after we got off of the phone. I'll let you know how it is Nina -- thanks!

My friends and family continue to call, write, email, IM, text with messages of love and support. Nary called me today, while I was at Target, to nab Gaby this afternoon, with the same intentions as Claire's family. I love hearing from everyone and it really does lift me up. It's the boost, the encouragement I need. And that I am so thankful for.

Gaby's doing a Robbins Park camp during the mornings this week, Nick has his usual Monday allergist appointment and guitar lesson, and I have an appointment with Dr. N on Tuesday and Jacki on Thursday. Marc's not back til the weekend. The forecast is for the 90's all week, nothing really under 30 C. No break in the weather. Whatever will be, will be.

Spa Treatments During Chemo

2010-07-18T16:27:00.000-07:00

Gaby is sweet, thoughtful, considerate. Since Tuesday, she's asked me every morning how I've slept, and throughout the day checks to see how I'm feeling. (she also checks to see if I'm losing much hair yet!)
So it was really no surprise to me that she chose to stay home Friday, instead of hanging out with friends, and 'take care' of me. Spa style.

Though I had to veto any snacks, since my appetite was still impaired, and nixed the scented candles due to lingering nausea, I still enjoyed a comfortable and relaxing atmosphere. Gaby transformed her room with lighting, music (my ipod) and some mild aromatherapy.

I had to dress for the treatments:

Comfortable loungewear.

Lotions, potions and cucumbers for my eyes.

Temple rub, hand and foot rub, and a back massage.

Lucky me. And the best part?

Cuddles, snuggles and kisses.

Oh and we did share a lavender tubby after all of that. I felt AWESOME.

And loved.

Quick Thanks!

2010-07-18T16:16:00.000-07:00

I figure if I slip this post in between a couple of others, maybe Liz and Sue won't really notice and won't get upset with me sharing these photos.

This is Liz delivering dinner Tuesday, first chemo day. It was SO good and I was able to enjoy it. Especially the salad, which I heaped on my plate the second time round. It was a good thing I filled up on those veggies, cuz I haven't had much since then!

By the time Sue delivered dinner Thursday, I couldn't eat much of what she brought. I did enjoy the baked potatoes with plenty of sour cream though. And it makes me feel good to know that my family is well fed. I didn't feel like doing much more than dialing a take out number that day, I tell you!

Sue was back about an hour later, as she had forgotten a dessert she had made, Toll House Pie. Again, it looked so yummy, like something I would have loved, but I didn't even try a nibble.

The kids weren't too concerned about my loss of appetite. More for them.

Now, Marc is participating in A Biggest Loser Challenge at work, so he didn't have any dessert. It was just Gaby, Nick and Jess.

This is what was left a short time later.

The Day After Chemo and The Day After That

2010-07-15T16:46:00.000-07:00

Have been pretty much what I was expecting. Blah!

Nurse Betty recommended that I take the Lorazepam Tuesday night, to sleep. With all of the stuff pumped into me on Tuesday, apparently I wouldn't have slept well without it. Not taking any chances, I took the pill and slept for over 8 hours. Marc said he tried to have a conversation with me around 5 a.m., but I was incoherent and don't recall a word. The drugs did their trick.

So Wednesday and Thursday have been pretty mundane. Steroids again Wednesday, anti-nausea meds all day. Regular breakfast of granola cereal and blueberries, but by lunch time I felt like nothing more than some snap peas and apples sauce. Separately, of course!

Gaby spent the afternoon with her friend Rose, Nick just hung out at home, and I had an expected visited from Nurse Lesley, with my Neulasta injection. I should also mention that Nurse Tara, who tended to me during me chemo, called on Wednesday morning, to see how I was doing. I'm feeling well taken care of.

Nurse Lesley had also called in the morning to schedule her visit, to deliver the Neulasta and teach me how to inject it. The plan was originally for Marc to inject it, but he couldn't make it home at the appointed time, and I felt confident enough to give it a go.

And that's why there's no pictures! I was fully prepared to snap a photo of Marc administering the shot, but since it was me, first of all, I had no free hands, and secondly, the easiest place to self-inject was into my belly roll. And no one wants to see that!

She was here for about an hour, going over the paperwork, required medical history, checking my vitals, all of that stuff. She also had the practical information about the injections. That each of them costs -- gulp!! -- $3250.00. For ONE injection. And that our insurance would pay 90%. That still means that the 4 shots would be $1300 out pocket. Crazy! Though I believe we've used up most of my $1000 in network deductible and that's where our 10% would come from. It remains to be seen just how much all of this is costing. It's also interesting to see the statements from insurance company indicating the actual costs of all this treatment. Astronomical.

I also had to sign a form saying something to the effect that I would take good care of the additional dose left here to be used after my second chemo, that I wouldn't sell it, that sort of thing. If it does what it's supposed to do, it's invaluable to me, so I think I'll keep it!

There was enough of Liz's yummy chicken dinner left to feed the family. Me, I just had some rice pudding. Boring, but all I felt like eating. Reminds me of early pregnancy.

Wednesday was much the same. Since one of the anti-nausea meds causes drowsiness, that's the one that is recommended for bedtime use. I don't think it helped me sleep as much as the lorazepam, but it was effective enough. I dozed off and on once Marc got up, but didn't crawl out of bed til, oh, 10ish. Granola and fresh blueberries for breakfast, but it's not tasting as good today. I could tell right away I needed the anti-nausea meds again, so I popped one of those.

Yesterday, I was drinking mostly green tea with mint, but today I opted for ice water with lime. That seems to go down better, and I've been advised that keeping myself hydrated, especially the first days following chemo, is key to feeling better sooner.

Yesterday morning I didn't feel too bad, but by afternoon, the meds made me drowsy, and that lingered all day. So today, I stuck to the one anti-nausea pill that didn't list drowsiness as a side effect. Still feeling nauseated and just kind of out of it. Gaby hung out with the Smith's and Jess came over to keep Nick company. I did manage to get to the post office to finally post Pier's package, and picked up some ground beef at Joe's. To make Hamburger Helper. Gross, I know, but just like when I was pregnant with both Nick and Gaby, it's something I feel like eating. Never at any other time, but obviously it's something I can handle with my tummy in this delicate condition. Nick was rolling his eyes at me. Couldn't believe I was not only making it, but going to eat it. But it went down real good.

This 'delicate tummy' also frustated me when my friend Sue delivered a delectible London broil for dinner, with mushroom gravy, baked white and sweet potatoes with toppings for both, and delicious salad. She came back about an hour later with a forgotten dessert, Toll House Pie. Everything smelled so good, and looked so good, but I just couldn't eat right now. So frustrated, but happy that my family is well fed! All I had was the baked potatoes, but the family enjoyed everything and the kids declared that pie awesome! Thanks Sue, for taking such good care of us.

That's where I'm at two days after chemo. Just where I thought I would be.

Chemo - 1 down, 3 to go

2010-07-13T16:18:00.000-07:00

Well, the chemo was better than the weather! We Pelletiers never seem to do anything without drama and today was no exception!

Marc was in KC yesterday, returning home on a flight arriving in Philly at 10 p.m. Except that it was cancelled, due to, apparently, weather. So he got a flight to Charlotte NC, but just missed the last flight out to Philly. So he spent the night there, rising before dawn to catch a 6 a.m. flight to Philly, arriving at 8. Should work. Except that he was traveling USAir, which is notorious in this city for the slowest luggage delivery anywhere. But the flight was light, and he actually saw his bags coming off of the plane before he deplaned, a good sign. We had to leave home shortly after 9, 9:15 at the very latest, to get to the hospital on time. But we didn't plan for the rain.

It wasn't just raining. It was a torrential downpour that was flooding and closing roads. Marc called to say traffic was crawling down the Blue Route, mostly due to visibility, or lack thereof. We had thought I would call someone to get a ride, and he would meet me there. But by the time he called from Plymouth Meeting, 10-15 minutes away in light traffic and good weather, it was already 9:15. So we decided I would drive myself, he would catch up with me, and then later, he would get someone to drive him over when it was time to pick me up, as I wasn't allowed to drive home. But we didn't realize just how bad the roads were.

I got past the Sandy Run Creek, which often floods Twining. Traffic was also moving slowly here, as it was still pouring. But when I got to the school on Susquehanna, the road was completely covered with water, curb to curb. All the way to Genuardi's. We navigated that stretch slowly and cautiously, which gave me time to call the doctor to advise that I was running late. No worries there.

Got through that, up the hill and back down, and with that low ground came more water. The intersection at Highland, where I had to turn into the hospital was blocked by police cars, and there were both fire trucks and ambulances trying to figure out alternate routes. I was a bit panicked, so I jumped out of the car, jacket open, wading through the water, to ask the police officer if he knew of any alternate routes that were still passable. He directed me back the way I came, to Wheatsheaf, which took me around and back to the hospital via mostly high ground.

Days like this you've got to love valet parking. Can't say that the guy who works there does, but it's great for us. Though I was so soaked at this point that it wouldn't have made a difference.

I did call Marc and tell him not to come. His car is lower, and he would have had even more trouble nagivating the roads. It was still pouring and it might have taken him so long to get there, that I would have been done with the doctor by the time he arrived. I was supposed to have an appointment with Dr. N at 9:30, and start my chemo at 10. But I think it was at least 9:45 when I arrived, so everything was moved back. The best laid plans.

As usual, everyone at the Rosenfeld Cancer Centre, where I'm receiving treatment, is so gracious and wonderful. Worried about me being wet and reassuring me not to worry about being late. While I was waiting to see the doctor, there were announcements coming over the hospital system advising people that some parking lots and parkades were flooding and vehicles would have to be moved. I had visions of spending the day and night there!

Even though I had my little point and shoot with me, I was so stressed on the drive there that I forgot to take it out. I called Gaby just after I left home to have her snap a photo for me. She got this shot out the front door:

It got worse before it got better. But you get the idea!

Dr. N and nurse Betty went over the chemo, the side effects, the meds, and any questions I had. At my last visit, I had been given 3 prescriptions to fill, 1 for the steroid for before and after days, and 2 anti-nausea meds. Today they added lorazepam, which is prescribed for anxiety, but in my case, is to be taken this evening in case I have trouble sleeping. It can also help with nausea, apparently.

I don't anticipate trouble sleeping given that I only got about 2-3 hours last night, but I'll take it anyway. They said for tonight I should.

Then it was off to the treatment room. Got a corner chair, with a TV, and right across from the bathroom. Good for someone with no experience wheeling around an IV pole, though with all of the water and iced tea I drank, I was fairly good at it by the time I left.

That's the TV up in the corner. I didn't listen to music, but the ipod earbuds came in handy for the television. Water, iced tea, green tea mints, lip gloss, phone for texts, pins and emails, book club book, journal and a magazine.

A nice warm blanket over my soggy self. That's the bathroom. Right there. Nice and close.

The chemo.

IV. No port required, since I'll only be there another 3 times.

My lucky Jaz bracelet. Looks better than the hospital-issued one!

The view from my corner. There are 6 nurses and several volunteers taking great care to make sure the patients are well looked after. I know I was.

The actual chemo took two hours. Following saline and I believe, another steroid, both given by IV, the first of the two chemo drugs was administered. The oncology pharmacy determines the dosage based on height and weight. I told them they had to compensate for the extra weight I came in with today -- wet shoes, wet clothes, wet hair! They have you leave your shoes on when you weigh in to keep the germs and bacteria to a minimum in a place where low immunity is common.

First was the Taxotere. Tara, my nurse, sat with me for the first ten minutes to make sure I had no reaction. Burning at the IV site is common. A stomach ache or discomfort in the chest can also occur. All went good.

Exactly an hour later the bag was empty and they changed it out for the Cytoxan. This time, I was told to let them know if I felt like I was getting a sinus headache, as they could adjust the flow. Again, no problem, though when nurse Betty came by, she said the headache could occur at anytime, even hours later. She told me to let them know for next time if that was the case, so they could slow it down a bit for subsequent treatments.

Its not feeling like a sinus headache, but rather like I went swimming and got a bit of water up my nose. Easy enough to live with. But I won't speak too soon. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

Jim, our awesome neighbor, got Marc to the hospital just as I was done. We were out of there by 2:00.

And I came home to this:

Thanks Gaby girl! XO

I'm still not feeling too bad right now. Shortly after we got home, we turned around and went to pick up Gab's new glasses, dropped Nick off at his girlfriend's, and fueled up and picked up photos at Sam's. It's been almost 5 hours since we got home from the hospital. My feeling OK might also have something to do with my dear friend Liz delivering a yummy dinner of BBQ chicken, mac and cheese and a fabulous, loaded salad. Soooo good, and enough for tomorrow. I did snap her picture, but haven't downloaded it yet. I'll share it soon.

I can't say enough how much I appreciate all that my friends and family are doing for me, for us, during this time. I know I keep repeating myself, but what a blessing. I'm a lucky girl!

I'm Whirling!

2010-07-12T13:22:00.000-07:00

T-1 day til chemo, round 1, treatment 1, whatever you call it. Chemo starts tomorrow. I've been instructed to take these steroids the day before and day after, 2 pills, 2X day. With food of course.

I took 2 pills this morning with breakfast. By lunch, I was feeling a bit weird, light-headed, and revisited the side effects.

When I had the prescription filled, I read the big long list that accompanied it. But today, I just folded out the little piece attached to the bottle. Common side effects: difficulty sleeping, feeling of a whirling motion, increased appetite (yippee, I just lost 2 more lbs. on Marc's biggest loser challenge and now this!), increased sweating, indigestion, mood changes, nervousness.

Nervousness?! Heck yeah. Don't need steroids to bring that on. I'm having freakin' chemo tomorrow for the first time. I have no idea what to expect. I know it's basically poison being pumped through my veins. The list of potential side effects is long and horrible.

Nervousness?! I guess so!

Kindness and Flowers

2010-07-12T10:07:00.000-07:00

I am repeatedly overwhelmed by the reaching out, the love and support offered by everyone. My friend Heidi did the Susan G Komen walk on Mother's Day and picked up a book for me, Finding the "CAN" in Cancer As the foreward states, it's a pragmatic and practical handbook on dealing with the details of cancer treatment; a book with helpful and inspirational vignettes; and most of all, a story of friends. It states that battling cancer with an optimistic and upbeat attitude is a challenging task and that it helps to have friends. While it also states that it's even more helpful to have friends who know what you are up against, I'm thankful to have friends of both varieties, those who know and those who don't. I'm thankful to each and every one of them, friends and family alike. Thanks Heidi!

Kindness and support comes when you don't expect it. Not that I'm surprised. Our dentist and his staff are all warm and wonderful people and we've been with them since moving to PA 13 years ago. Debbie, our dentist's wife, and Kelly, are the receptionist/hygenist/office support folks. We love them all and Gaby especially extolls their virtues. She's had 3 teeth filled on three separate occasions, and was so comforted by Kelly holding her hand that first time, getting her through the unknown. The third filling was last week, and Debbie gave Gaby a sweater to wear, as the AC had made the place a bit frosty, but was necessary with the 100+ temps of the week.

And two weeks ago, when Gaby went for x-rays and had that third cavity diagnosed, Debbie surprised me with flowers.

(she's not going to like me posting the picture here -- she only agreed to being photographed with Gaby!)

But I want to share the picture here. Aren't they beautiful?! I was so touched.

Marc had been there a couple of weeks earlier, and told them of my diagnosis and upcoming treatments. Debbie also left a phone message for me that day, offering her prayers and support. That touched my heart also.

I'm very good at remaining composed when discussing my breast cancer. My prognosis is excellent, so all's good. But I still get choked up when I talk about how thankful I am that I'm not going it alone. How wonderful it is to have so many people reaching out in so many ways. And that's how I felt when Debbie gave me the flowers. Choked up. So very appreciative. So very lucky.

Their beauty warmed our home for a week, but the warmth and kindness behind them will last a lot longer.

Tamoxifen

2010-06-27T14:31:00.000-07:00

This is the least explained and researched subject thus far. Since my tumour was ER (estrogen receptor) positive, it is believed that I would benefit from 5 years of tamoxifen treatment.

Tamoxifen is an antagonist of the estrogen receptor in breast tissue. It has been the standard endocrine (anti-estrogen) therapy for hormone-positive early breast cancer in post-menopausal women, although aromatase inhibitors have been proposed. This is from wikipedia.

Apparently the risks outweigh the benefits, but the risks sound a bit scary. Given my history of migraine headaches which puts me at greater risk of stroke when things like birth control pills (hormones) are added to the mix, I'm not sure this is right for me. The 3 migraines in 12 days from the progesterone further support that. And I do believe these headaches are from the progesterone. I was diagnosed with cancer on April 16th, and the stress of that diagnosis doesn't appear to have caused any headaches. But less than 48 hours after starting the progesterone, I had my first migraine since my diagnosis. Second followed 6 days later, and a third 6 days after that, even when I reduced the dosage. I'm just sayin'.

Radiation

2010-06-27T13:46:00.000-07:00

Just a brief bit about radiation, again, as I understand it.

Necessary to attack the area of the tumour. Chemo works to destroy cancer cells throughout the body. Because cells would have to multiply by the millions before forming anything large enough to detect any other way, the chemo prevents that. The chances of more cancer cells being present in my body are greater because, well, I had a cancerous tumour.

The tumour was surgically removed, which could change the patterns of blood flow in that area, which could then render the chemo ineffective, in that area. Which is why the radiation is necessary. In that area. My understanding of Dr. H's explanation.

When I have my last round of chemo, I'll contact Dr. H's office and set up my schedule for my 6 weeks of weekday radiation. I'll have an appointment before I start, for them to calibrate what they need, to customize the radiation for me. I'll get two little tattoo dots that the radiology techs will use to properly orient me for my treatments. I'll start on a Monday, go every weekday for 6 weeks, and check in on one of those days, probably Tuesdays, with Dr. H, to see how I'm progressing.

The good thing about the chemo is that it pushes back the radiation schedule to the fall, when the kids are back in school. Much less disruptive for our family and easier for this SAHM, who finds herself home even less these days!

Chemo

2010-06-27T13:32:00.000-07:00

Is a yes.

I wrongly assumed that, when my node biopsy came back clean, radiation was all I was facing. The cancer hadn't spread. Considered Stage 1. I thought I would go through six weeks of radiation and be done.

Wrong.

The results of the onkotyping of my tumour are what this decision is based on. The tumour is analyzed and given a breast cancer recurrence score, based on past studies. I believe it's over about a twenty year period, but I've been quoted so many stats and studies recently that I could easily confuse the information. Consider this a very lay interpretation and explanation.

My score was 23. Almost dead in the middle. No clear path is indicated by a score such as this. Another decision I would have to make, though all of my oncologists weighed in on this.

With a score of 23, node negative, ER positive, the risk of the cancer recurring in 10 years, with radiation and 5 years of tamoxifen treatments, is 15%. Add chemo to the attack plan, followed by the radiation and tamoxifen, the that risk is reduced to less than 5%.

My surgeon said she would recommend the chemo, and left it to the medical oncologist to elaborate. She did, and concurred with the surgeon, as did the radiation oncologist. Citing my age (as young -- funny to hear that) and health, as factors in support of that argument, they all believe that I'm equipped to battle aggressively.

The chemo will consist of 4 treatments, given by IV, every 3 weeks. Each treatment takes 3-4 hours. Benadryl is administered with one of the types of chemo I'll be receiving, but I can't recall which one. For that reason, I won't be allowed to drive myself home.

The two types of chemo I will be receiving are cytoxan and taxotere These links are the actual information that was printed and provided to my by Dr. N. Interesting and scary, especially, obviously, the side effects. But you can get the same jolt if you read the list of side effects you receive with any prescription you fill. They have to list EVERTHING. And they do.

Some of the side effects conflict, between these two types of chemo. One may cause loss of appetite, the other, fluid retention. What might the outcome of that look like? Nausea is a given and hair loss seems very likely. I had debated getting dreads before starting chemo, but I'm still on the fence. If I get dreads, I won't lose my hair, and it won't be about just 'trying' out the dreads. On the other had, if I get them and experience hair loss, it might hold the hair together a bit longer. I figure if I don't get them, I won't experience hair loss -- that's the way things usually play out for me!

The prospect of hair loss has prompted the most discussion with friends, family, and of course Marc. He's all for a blond wig! I told him I'd wear it at home, but it probably wouldn't see the outside world. I'm leaning towards scarves. It will be hot and humid and wigs can be hot and scratchy. I've already visited etsy and favourited a few scarves and head covers designed just for this purpose. I love etsy! Pier and I are in agreement about the scarves and we're both etsy fans.

In my initial meeting with Dr. N, we had discussed starting chemo July 1st, which is next week. But at that time, things were still unsettled with my potential menopausal issues. Still are. So that date, right now, is July 13th, pending closure to those other things.

Good and bad, this potential summer of chemo. Good, in that it's once every 3 weeks, so we're not chained to home by my schedule, as we would have been with 6 weeks of radiation. Bad, as staying out of the sun is something one must do while undergoing chemo. But upon further investigation, I can wear sunscreen and am simply more sensitive to the sun. I might possibly break out in a rash. Nothing like undermining the treatments or causing additional damage.

But our PA summers are hot and humid and if I feel as crappy as is written, I can't see myself even feeling like hiding under a brolly poolside. I just hope I'm wrong. The summer will indeed be boring for my kids if that's the case.

That said, again, my wonderful family and friends have come through with offers to take my kids, shuttle and chaffeur them, entertain them. My parents have offered to travel and stay with us if I feel overwhelmed and lousy. I can't say enough how much easier going through this is, with this kind of love and support. It take an army to do all sorts of things, and I'm so blessed to have one behind me.

What's Next?

2010-06-27T12:46:00.000-07:00

We returned from Winnipeg and hit the ground running. Beginning of June, 3 weeks left of school, and many tests and appointments for me. That first week was my bone scan, which involved 2 visits to the hospital, AMH. The first, to inject the dye, and the second, 3 hours later, for the actual scan. The results of that were negative, good, nothing to worry about.

That second week of June was the busy one, with lots of school year end stuff interspersed with 4 doctor appointments. The first, was with Dr. N. medical oncologist. Though my surgeon had called the day before with the results of my oncotyping, Dr. N was the one who explained it in greater detail.

My second appointment was with my OBGyn, as, with all of this going on, mother nature has thrown a bit of a curve ball at me and put my menstrual cycle all out of whack. Menopause? Possibly. But whatever the cause, the situation must be rectified before I can proceed with any treatment. My menstrual cycle has been pretty irratic and irregular for the past couple of years, but has become unmanageably more so. I had a seven week stretch with no period, followed by what is, now, a month long menses. Inconveniently so. Since I was scheduled, as per my surgeon, for a chest/abdomen/pelvic CT for the following week, my OBGyn decided to put me on progesterone to hopefully slow the bleeding, and see what the results of the CT scan might show. (that was at 2 weeks. the progesterone has given me 3 migraine headaches in 12 days, so I, at the doctor's recommendation, cut back the dosage. good and bad, because the flow became heavier again, and the headaches continued. I had cut the dose after 2 headaches, but still got a thrid)

That same afternoon, I visited my surgeon's office for genetic testing, for the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes, breast cancer genes. Nothing is simple here. The test was the easy part. Different insurance companies pay for different tests and services. Because they can. I was told by Jacki that the lab running the tests would call me to advise where I stood with that. And they did, the next week. I was told that my insurance company would pay for the tests for the first two genes. If positive, there would be no need to proceed further. If negative, tests would/should be run for mutations. Which my insurance doesn't cover. Another $700 for that. Figures. I told them we would wait for the outcome of the first series of test.

Last doctor's visit Friday morning, Dr. H, radiation oncologist. We were joined by resident Philippe, who's last name I don't recall (also because he was both referred to and introduced by, his first name) Radiation is a given. Six weeks, 5X/week. In and out, fairly straightforward, some minor side effects. He explained that while fatigue was common, it might also be caused by the change of pace during radation. Some people can travel an hour in each direction to receive their treatments. I'm fortunate in that I'll be driving 10-15 to AMH, using valet parking which is a deal with the monthly $10 pass, and should be there and back in about hour each day.

The following Tuesday, the 15th, was my CT scan. Another big chunk of time. I took my computer and some of you were lucky enough to get emails from me while I sat and drank two bottles of that barium chalk shake. Mmmmm. Not! Whether it's chilled out of necessity or chilled to make it go down easier, I'm glad they do it. I can't imagine drinking that stuff warm. The straw that's provided helps too. But it's like downing two 454 ml sodas -- soon, you've gotta go. And you're not allowed to! I stopped typing about 25 minutes before the scheduled time for the scan, cuz I just could not concentrate. Thankfully, they called me early and got the scan overwith and done. And the last of my tests and appointments. For a little while.

My Potluck Friends

2010-06-27T10:25:00.000-07:00

That's what we call ourselves. We've been friends for over 20 years, brought together by a common employer, common position. Our first dinner wasn't a potluck, just dinner out. We decided that we'd like to keep getting together for dinner, but thought it would be more fun to take turns hosting potlucks in our homes.

I think we're all pretty good cooks and have gotten better throughout the years, with the challenge of one upping each other's fabulous recipes. Many of my PA friends know my Chorizo Corn Chowder, a favourite I bring to soup suppers or any other gathering where soup's appropriate. That's a Bonnie recipe. Everyone BUT my family loves it. I make whole pots, double the recipe, and freeze it in single servings for me!

We thought we should put a cook book together, for ourselves. We're good at emailing recipes to each other after a get together, but the book has fallen by the wayside.

I left Winnipeg 13 years ago for PA, Tracey, 11 years ago, heading south to TX. But whenever one of us makes it back to the Peg, we get together. And two years ago, we finally took to the road. The girls all traveled here and we visited NYC, among other places. We talk about doing it again and I'm sure we will one day. We such a FABULOUS long weekend together, got along so well, and made many treasured memories.

That's the last time I saw Trac, as our times in Winnipeg don't usually coincide. So I knew not to expect to see her in Winnipeg last month. But I was so pleased when Bonz, Brenda, Monique and Patti worked to arrange their schedule around our short 4 1/2 days there, so that we could get together. Taking either 1/2 or a full day off, we met at Monique's Friday morning for brunch. In the end Patti couldn't make it, as she was heading to Wisconsin for the weekend. Funny enough, Monique was heading out at noon for MN.

Rather than completely repeat myself, you can read about my Friday morning in Winnipeg on my other blog. But I did want to repeat the fact that these girls, in Winnipeg and TX, along with my sister, arranged, through my friend here, Elise, for housecleaning, the first of which was while we were in Winnipeg. What a pleasure to come home to a clean and dust/dust bunny free place! And there are more cleanings in my future, to be scheduled at my convenience.

They also presented me with a beautiful necklace, 'Faith', which I've been wearing 'faithfully', since I received it. It's a reminder to stay strong, and a reminder of the love and support I have. I'm so blessed.

Did I mention that they're great cooks too?!

Can't wait to see you girls again. Love you all, Brenda, Monique, Bonnie, Patti and Tracey.

Flowers. For me

2010-06-16T18:23:00.000-07:00

Overwhelmed. Again.

I should have devoted a post to the day before surgery, but didn't. It was another busy Monday. But full of wonderful surprises.

I knew Pastor Kay was coming over to sit with me the day before surgery. To talk. To offer communion and prayers. So when there was a knock at the door around the time I was expecting PKay, I was suprised and delighted to see my old friend Lynn at the door.

One of my first and greatest friends here in PA, we have lost touch over the recent years. Our childrens' activities take us in different directions, as has as life. Lynn worked full time and went back to school to become a nurse. She did, maintaining a crazy schedule for years, and graduating a year ago. We finally met for lunch last summer and thought we'd get together more regularly after that. And as so often happens, it didn't happen. But Lynn was back in the loop for book club, so there were more opportunities to see her. Still not regularly enough to have shared my news face to face. She received the email I sent to local and faraway friends. On the advice of her husband, who reminded her I was telling Nick and Gaby over the weekend, she waited til Monday to come over, bearing gifts, love and support. An uplifting music CD, a beautiful journal, and a card bearing a warm and encouraging message. I was touched and just so very happy to see her. And bummed because I knew our visit couldn't be as long as I would have liked. We enjoyed the few minutes we had, and she departed once PKay arrived.

PKay also arrived bearing gifts. A beautiful blue prayer shawl, made by the ladies of the Lamb Circle, at our church. Again I was touched. The goodness of people and their eagerness to reach out and help is awesome. Inspiring. Welcome.

PKay spent over an hour with me. We talked. Got off topic, as we often do. She offered prayers and shared communion.

My pastor is the mother of a soon to be sophomore boy, just like me. With that in common, I think of her probably as a friend first. And while I guess your pastor should be your friend, I sometimes forget that she's also my pastor. I just didn't have the same dilemma growing up in the Catholic church!

Friend and pastor, she's wonderful in both roles, and a blessing to me.

Since I titled this post Flowers, I should mention them.

The day after surgery, I received a delivery. A beautiful arrangement from Marc's office. Over those next few days, a lovely basket of flowers from the Godoskis, all. A box of beautiful cut flowers from my Mom and Dad, sister and her family. Also left on my doorstep was a vase of spring pinks, from my Godmother. All far far away in Winnipeg, but close in my heart.

Cindy brought these sunflowers over on Sunday. Bright and sunny.

An edible assortment from Joanne, who works with Marc.

Cards bearing heartfelt notes and well wishes came in the mail. My friend Peg gave me an inspirational book when she and Sandi made the trip my way, for coffee. Elizabeth left a mysterious bag bearing witch hazel and lavender. Something we had discussed.

While still facing uncertainly in terms of treatment at that point, I was certainly distracted from giving it too much thought. In an absolutely wonderful way. Wow.

Your friends certainly make sure you eat GOOD when you have cancer!

2010-06-16T17:50:00.000-07:00

It all started the week after receiving my diagnosis. I got the news on a Friday and was fortunate to have an 8:30 appointment with my surgical oncologist the following Monday. It was a busy day, as Mondays had evolved into this spring. I had an appointment to take Roxi to the vet at 10:30, Gaby had early dismissal from which I was thinking of picking her up, in order to get her to a hair appointment with Annmarie. That was for 2:00. We had to make sure not to dilly dally too much, as Nick had his 3:45 guitar lesson, after which we had to gobble dinner and get Gaby to her 6:00 soccer practice.

With the emotional newness of my diagnosis, I was quickly moved to tears upon listening to Elise's phone message while waiting in the doctor's office. She said she knew I had a busy day, a lot on my plate, and would I let her bring dinner over. I was touched and very receptive to the idea, though the thought did cross my mind that Nick and Gaby might get suspicious. Remember, they knew nothing at this point.

Well, my worries were all for naught. When I answered their usual question "What's for dinner?" with "I'm not sure. Mrs. Seyfried's bringing dinner over to us tonight" no one batted an eye.

She and Julie brought over a huge pan of chicken enchilladas, salad and triple chocolate mocha cookies. Everything was yummy and lasted for another 2 meals. I had thought about freezing some of it, but before I could give it another thought, everything was gone.

Surgery was scheduled for another 3 weeks down the road, and I agreed to further offers of meals during that time. After Marc's scrumptious lasagna on the day of my surgery, of which there exist no photos, Nary brought over Chinese noodles and a beef and beans dish. Another winner, and so good that Gaby ate the noodles cold for lunch, at school, for the rest of the week.

Elise had called to ask if I was ready for Peace meals, those prepared by our church members. I said I would love one and Thursday would work well for us. I got suspicious when she called to confirm the time SHE should bring it over. Now I must mention that Elise is a fabulous cook and baker, and I would love to eat meals prepared by her every day. But I didn't want her to go to all that trouble again.

But she did.

Pretzel chicken over polenta served with cheese sauce a la Rachael Ray. Sensational! Oh and of course a love salad and chocolatey frosted cake for dessert. The name escapes me but I enjoyed it for a few more days after all of the chicken was gone.

We were generously provided with meals for three days, which served us into the weekend.

And it started again on the following Monday. I was shuttling Gaby to soccer practice, so I missed my dear friend Kathy's delivery, but I certainly enjoyed it!

She had mentioned she was going to bring this tortilla soup which sounded yummy. And it was! With grated cheese, avocado and sour cream for garnish, and home made tortilla strips to go with it. That was a bowl in a meal. But she had also brought chicken enchilladas and corn on the cob. And a pitcher of real margaritas for the grown ups!

We didn't even touch the enchillas or corn, so it worked out very well that Lisa brought over a pasta casserole the next morning, ready for freezing.

A riccotta pasta casserole, ready for either oven or freezer. This one went south, with much appreciation. So did the Texas toast that accompanied it. Of course we couldn't freeze the salad, and the chocolate covered pretzels didn't need to go there either.

The casserole didn't stay frozen long though. The following week we were readying for our trip to Canada, and it served as dinner both Monday and Tuesday. And it was delicious.

Wednesday saw Elizabeth appear at our door bearing gifts in a giant princess bag.

Seasoned chicken breasts, brown rice and a yummy green salad. Perfect. And ample! I was eating dinners for lunches and there was still leftovers. I was also nibbling on the cold rice whenever I'd open the fridge -- can't resist!

So when Carole brought over Thursday's meal of roast beef, baked potatoes and another beautiful salad, we were running out of room in the fridge! The kids love roast beef sandwiches, and we probably used more of the potatoes fried up over the next few days. The salad, once we finished Elizabeth's, lasted into the weekend.

They had come over early so the girls could play for awhile and I let them leave without getting a picture of Carole and the food. Still got the food though! That's actually Elizabeth's salad from the day before.

Once again the meals took us into the weekend. Marc and I actually dined in NYC that Saturday night, and we all ate at the golf course on the Sunday. (one of those food minimum/end of the month things). So that was two weeks of minimal cooking for me. Which meant quick runs to the grocery store for not much more than milk and fruit. With Lisa's casserole covering those last two meals before we left for Canada, I had had a pretty easy time in the kitchen.

In Canada, meals were prepared for us. Between different family members, the wedding of course, and dining out, another week passed without me really lifting a untensil.

Spoiled? Yeah, I think so. But ever so grateful.

Jacki

2010-06-16T10:54:00.000-07:00

Since I've had 3 scheduled blocks of time with Jacki, you'd think there would be at least one post about her, here. And you'd be right. To think that.

I have no reason, no excuse, as to why there has not yet been a post entitled 'Jacki' and perhaps even a 'Jacki II', and 'Jacki the 3rd'. I'm just getting around to it now, even though I met Jacki TWO months ago. That makes me even more behind, if you're keeping track, as I am.

I met Jacki on my second visit to my surgeon's office. With diagnosis confirmed, on the morning of April 19th, Marc and I met first with the surgeon. She provided us with the pathology report of the tumour, all good from her perspective, laid out the surgical options, which were lumpectomy or mastectomy -- no greater success with one than the other, discussed the medical and radiation dynamics of the treatment, and then told us we'd next be meeting with Jacki. (In looking back over previous posts, I realize that I didn't really dedicate a post to this appointment. I think it's an important missing bit of information that I should make sure I add at some point, both for myself and anyone else following along. The appointment wasn't as rushed as I might have made it sound -- just want to stay on the Jacki track)

While Marc was comfortable talking to the surgeon about the options she was presenting -- I mean after all, its science -- he didn't fare as well with Jacki.

I'm guessing Jacki's a nurse, nurse practitioner, I'm not sure. I feel that by asking I'm questioning their ability and qualifications, when in fact I'm just being nosy! Jacki's job that day was to educate me about lymphedema and its risks and prevention. With the sentinel node biopsy, the lymphatic system would be disrupted and possibly not function properly if I didn't take added precautions with my left arm and hand. No more vein puncture or blood pressure. Care in not overloading that side, with both weight and/or activity, not easy as I'm left handed. And an overall increased awareness of my hand and arm. Staying on top of any changes.

Lymphedema is an unusual accumulation of lymph fluid in the tissues of the arms or legs of a patient due to a malfunction of, or injury to, the lymphatic system. Jacki explained how we would measure my 'normal' prior to surgery, using some fabulous new technology, and I would be monitored for the 2-3 years following surgery, when my risk would be greatest.

She gave me a brochure to add to my beginning-to-bulge folder of cancer stuff. For education purposes, and perhaps as motivation to stay on top of it, there were photographs of the various stages of lymphedema. That was a little too much for Marc. When I looked at him, he had turned a greyer shade of grey. I patted him on his leg and assured him I'd get us through this. And we both laughed! Cuz watching loved ones in pain and suffering isn't easy, and that's the toughest part for Marc in all of this. I know he helps in other ways. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. And I'm lucky enough to have a variety of supportive family and friends, with a variety of strengths to offer. I'm covered in so many ways.

Back to Jacki. Jacki's very matter of fact, planning her role in all of this, for the next 3 or so years of my future. Its was very reassuring, way back there at the beginning, to hear her talk that way.

Jacki's relaxed, easy going. You never feel rushed with her. She likes to talk. And, since I also like to talk, I also noticed that she's good listener. She encourages questions and takes the time to cover anything you want to know. Her voice is both distinctive and relaxing. Familiar and soothing. You feel like she gives you as much time as you need. And like all of those amazing women at the breast centre, you feel better and so much more confident after spending time with her.

That was important at the beginning. Still is, but even more important then. So I looked forward to my appointment a few days later, to do the baseline reading for monitoring my lymphatic system. (I am SO not the science person and I apologize to those who are, those in health care and especially those I'm writing about! This is for me and those who dare to read it. And those who know me are generally aware of my limitations when it comes to science. But if anyone would like to support my posts with accurate information, links, that sort of thing, feel free!)

I had to remove my shoes and all jewelry. That wedding band is always difficult to remove, but it had to go too. I had to lay still for several minutes, with things hooked up to various parts (can't even remember which parts) and think of something that would always make me happy, and thus, stress free. I chose to think about tucking Gaby into her bed. When she was younger, I would always lay down with her. As she gets older, I don't lay down with her as often, or for as long, anymore. Mostly because she tends to take a LONG time to get ready for bed. I'm amazed at how we can always get to soccer games and practices on time, but bedtime is ALWAYS late. Late or not, a few minutes laying down with Gaby at the end of the day is always a peaceful time. And often very entertaining!

Once the test was complete, we spent quite a while chatting. Again. She spoke of keeping an upbeat and positive attitude and atmosphere during whatever treatments I was facing. A big proponent of aromatherary, as am I, she suggested orange, lavender, and something else I can't recall and will have to ask about again. For energy. We use alot of lavender around here, for relaxing. Candles, oils, pillow sprays and lotions. I've also used eucalyptus for energy.

She's a wealth of information and open to sharing it. When I call my surgeon's office I always hope she'll answer. Not that the other people who might answer aren't kind and helpful, because they are. Jacki's just that something extra special.

I had my third official appointment with Jacki last week, for my BRCA testing. Genetic testing for the breast cancer gene. In her official capacity, she had to explain the test and all of the ins and outs associated with it, including the health insurance aspect. Of course. The fact that the company doing the test might be calling to discuss what might or might not be covered by insurance. (that's another post -- insurance companies being a PITA when you're fighting to get better. That really sucks!) The implications of the results.

Then the fun part. We got to hit the head together, where I swirled scope around my mouth, three times, for fifteen seconds each time and with specific instructions as to how and where in my mouth I was swishing. After the fifteen seconds I would spit into a vial (not unlike a pee cup!) making sure I got that last bit of residue. Now Jacki's done this before and told me that she knew from experience not to look into the mirror or make eye contact. Apparently someone did this and spit all over the mirror. I could see that happening! So I didn't look at Jacki or myself during the process. And we got through it.

There have been a lot of surprises, a lot of pleasant surprises, and a lot more laughs than I would ever have expected in this battle. And a long growing list of amazing people to share this with. Add Jacki to that list.

Richard

2010-06-16T07:03:00.000-07:00

Ever since I walked out the door after spending about an hour with Richard, I've wanted to write about him here. This reinforces the thought that I should write fresh. Oh I went on and on about him in my head as I was driving home, but here it is, almost 4 weeks later and I'm finally dedicating that post to yet another amazing human being I've had the good fortune of encountering since this battle to defeat cancer began.

Richard's name on his card has some fancy initials after his name. LPT. Licenced Physical Therapist. Makes sense. CCT. That one's tougher. Something to do with cancer? Maybe. But even a google search couldn't definitively clear this up. It's obviously nothing to do with Cobb Country or combat control. I'll have to inquire further.

But nothing on his card could have prepared me for the uplifting hour I spent with Richard.

I don't consider myself a negative person and don't feel I need others to buoy me, to maintain a positive outlook. Glass half full kind of girl, that's what I am. But I have to tell you, encountering similar minded folks during this battle is not only refreshing, but essential. You can't think any other way when waging a battle against cancer. And if you're lucky enough to have a health care professional like Richard on your team, you won't.

Upon leaving my appointment with him, he had asked me to call my surgeon's office, to let them know I had been seen by him. It was their referral that led me there. Dialing at a red light, I reached Jacki at my surgeon's office. (she deserves a post of her own as well, and has gotten one, in my head, many times!) I was glad to reach Jacki cuz I just knew she would get it. She would understand my elation. After offering the obligatory confirmation of my consult, I had to let her know how appreciative I was.

She wasn't surprised. More shrink than PT, Richard spent more time getting into my head. While his job is to make sure I keep my body on the right physical track during my course of treatment, he's obviously aware of the power of the right mindset and dug to make sure it was there.

I like to think he didn't have to dig too deep to find someone ready to fight, ready to tackle this cancer head on. I know that my resolve to win this fight has been greatly strengthened by the love and support of my family and friends. Here in PA and far far away.

Richard did what he was supposed to do: made sure I had a compression sleeve for flying to Winnipeg the next week. Though as he explained to me, the sleeve probably wasn't necessary as flying wouldn't cause lymphedema. But as it was requested, he would provide it and instruct me on its use.

He gave me a thorough lesson on the lymphatic system and the cause of lymphedema. Germs. The lymphatic system fights germs. When altered by the removal of lymph nodes which in my case was three, it may not function as normal.The more nodes removed, the greater the impact. Richard wasn't the first health care professional to tell me that my risk of developing lymphedema is slim to none based on the minimal number of nodes removed.

I was advised on how to wash my hands and arms three times a day, like a surgeon. I was given a sample of a topical antibiotic and advised to carry it with me and apply it to any cuts, hangnails and even mosquito bites that appear on my left arm.

We went over the precautions I should be taking with my left arm, and I received pages of literature on the subject of lymphedema.

I was also advised to think about how I was planning to live the next 45 or 50 years of my life, because that was my future. Defeating the cancer and continuing on. Probably not his exact words. Like I said, it's been almost a month since I was there. But it wasn't an 'if' I beat the cancer. It was all about doing what I had to do to get it done.

We talked about our upcoming trip to Winnipeg for Pier and Nate's wedding and why I hadn't told Marc's side of the family. And when I was planning to tell them. I said I wanted to tell them before we left Winnipeg but after the wedding, which left a small window. He asked why. I said I wanted to be able to tell them in person, and by them, I mean Pier, Manon and Nathan. And I wanted to get a hug. Another hug. The hug that knew. If that makes any sense. Whether or not they felt the same way as I think I would, I believe I would like to have another opportunity to hug someone after knowing that. Rather than seeing them, hugging them, having them go away, then receiving the news of their diagnosis. Again, just me.

I really don't know if I've done Richard justice here. I feel that I haven't. But more than painting a picture for others reading this, I just wanted, in this case, to record a memory for myself. I spent an amazing hour with this person, walked out feeling even more positive and upbeat, and am grateful for all of it.

I don't have to look hard to find a silver lining in my cancer chapter. Here's another one. Thanks Richard.

Good News!

2010-05-19T17:35:00.000-07:00

Very good news! My lymph nodes are clean, meaning the cancer hasn’t spread!

I had a follow up appointment today. Shortly after I arrived, I overheard the receptionist calling someone for my test results. Eavesdropping as discreetly as I could, I came to the disappointing realization that I might not know anything today. Even after waiting for an hour to see the doctor, they hadn’t yet received anything.

I was a bit disappointed, but went home armed with 3 more scripts: call the physical therapist asap to get an appointment this week to be fitted for a compression sleeve for flying next week, call a radiation oncologist for a consult and call a medical oncologist for a consult.

So after a couple of detours on the way (can’t just drive by an AC Moore, and then there was WaWa!) I arrived home and settled down to take care of the appointments.

First was the physical therapist, to make sure I could see them in time. 12:30 tomorrow. Great. Second, the radiation oncologist. June 11th. Wow. That’s a bit farther down the road, but the earliest I could start radiation would be 3 weeks. I must be completely healed first.

While I was on the phone making the second appointment, call waiting chimed in. I didn’t even check to see who it was. At the same time, Gaby came home from school, so I didn’t get around to making the third appointment right away.

When I went back to the phone, I got the familiar beep beep indicating a message, and remembered the recent caller. I was surprised and thrilled to find that it was my doctor, who said she was calling with ‘good news’ and would I please call the office. Didn’t waste anytime on that!

Jacki answered the phone and was able to give me my results. I’ve been wanting to devote a post to Jacki, and plan to soon. She’s another one of those amazing encouraging health care professionals I’ve come in contact with since all of this started. Nurse practitioner, I think. I’ll have to ask next time I see her. She’s the person who monitors me for signs of lymphodema, so I’ll be seeing her every 3 months or so for the next 2-3 years.

Jacki confirmed that the nodes were benign, so I asked if I still had to make the appointment with the medical oncologist, since it was my understanding that this might mean that only radiation was necessary.

Here's where I learned something else, but didn’t write down the name of what next needs to be done. I’ll find out what it’s called. The tumour that was removed is typed, to determine if chemo would benefit me. Jacki started the paperwork while we were on the phone, and we’ll have the answer to that in 1-3 weeks.

In a string of bad news leading to bad news leading to bad news, this is very good news indeed!

Recovery

2010-05-17T22:04:00.000-07:00

After waiting for a while for my doctor, who was tied up in another surgery, we left without seeing her. I was starving and craving a blueberry scone. It was almost 4:00 and I had yet to eat. We swung by Starbucks on the way home, picking up no beverages. Scones for Marc and me, an apple fritter for Nick, and chocolate covered grahams for Gaby.

Brewed a giant cup of tea, and settled onto the couch with my scone. It was gone in no time!

I think it might take me a while to recover from the anesthesia. I didn't feel tired, but couldn't keep my eyes open. Just got comfy on the couch, waiting for Marc's lasagna.

Now, Marc has always told me he can make a better lasagna than anything that's ever been put in front of him. But in our 18 years together, he's never made it for me, so I figured it was all a fairy tale. Well, after our dinner on Sunday at Bertucci's, where he once again mentioned his fabled lasagna, I suggested he pass the time while I was in surgery, making it for dinner.

And so he did. And it was delicious. I wish I had had the presence of mind to photograph it, because I don't know when we'll see it again! But he made a double recipe, so there's some for the freezer!

After dinner, it was back to the couch. I needed to take it easy as much for the post op as for the excessive amount of lasagna I had pretty much inhaled.

It's good to be home. There's no place like home.

Surgery Today

2010-05-17T21:50:00.000-07:00

Didn't sleep well last night, though I'm not surprised! Anxious about the surgery, anxious about the kids, then, anxious about oversleeping since I'm not falling asleep! Typical!

Except for Gaby going to EK's early this morning, and me not eating, the morning is pretty typical. Nick leaves at his usual 6:40 a.m., Roxi's underfoot, anxious for attention, a bit less so after having been fed. Marc forgets we have to be out the door by 7:15, so has to skip two of his S's, and cut the third short. He'll have time later, while waiting to come back for me.

Gaby's happy to see that baby Caroline is up when we drop her off, so parting ain't such sweet sorrow. She's off to mother Carrie, since two of her siblings are still sleeping and the third is no where to be seen.

With Elizabeth's expert guidance and instruction, I have no trouble directing Marc to the parking lot and find our way to nuclear medicine. We get there with almost 15 minutes to spare. My appointment is 8:00. Check in, flashing that driver's license and insurance card, of course. And wait. I'm moved to a room. I change. I wait. Waiting some more, I'm told that the doctor who's supposed to form the procedure wasn't aware she had early morning patients and isn't there. I don't care about that -- I assume there should be someone else there qualified to do it. Nope. Not so far! So I put my comfy green hoody over my lovely blue hospital gown, under which I still wear my comfy faded yoga pants, and return to Marc in the waiting room. Better than sitting in that cold room alone. I'm assured the doctor should be there in about 15 minutes. Back to my book.

They seem surprised to have found a different doctor present, who can perform my needed procedure, and I'm back down the hall and in my room about 10 minutes later. I'm positioned on a surprisingly comfortable board, on my side to expose the required left boob, and poked. Several times. First, the lidacane to numb the area, so that I won't feel the subsequent four or so needles used to inject the dye into the lymph nodes. Now, I thought my lymph nodes were closer to my arm pit, not the centre of my breast. But that's where the injections went. Better not to watch!

A bit of bandage and I was ready to dress and head off to the breast centre, for the next step. I was required to be there at 9:30 for my 10:00 appointment. I didn't sit long in the waiting area once we arrived. Another lovely blue gown, and more prep. This time, needle localization. The insertion of a wire (turned out to be 2) into the tumor, for, as I understand it, location identification for the surgeon. More numbing for more needles.

I was glad to see the same doctor who performed the biopsy. A different nurse and ultrasound technician, but the same doctor. While the fact that I'm becoming familiar with the people and faces there is a bit unsettling, they have wondeful, supportive, professional, simply amazing people working there. Nice faces to become familiar with. Just as Anne, my nurse during my biopsy, held my hand throughout the procedure, instructing me to squeeze if discomfort was a problem, Kathleen, my nurse today, held my hand, rubbed my leg, offering conversation and comfort. I realized shortly into the procedure that I had a front row seat for it. The doctor has to see the ultrasound screen to know what she's doing. The screen is on my right, which I'm now laying on to provide access to the doctor. We're both looking in the same direction, and I suddenly realize that the straight line growing across the screen is the needle in my boob. Can't feel it. More just sense it's there. So I watch her position the first wire, which has a sort of looped hook at the end, to hold it in place. She places a second one, to be sure. She's gentle and apologetic, very calm throughout. And she's the same with the two assisting her.

More tape, which they call model tape, to hold the wires in place. After gathering up my worldly goods that I'm traveling with, Kathleen wheels me to the waiting area, where Marc joins us. We take the back way to the surgical centre. They're a different entrance, but there're secret hallways joining the two. And with a nurse escorting us, we've got an in. No waiting this time. Straight through to the back. Like getting the best table at a restaurant, passing through other waiting guests. Except I'd rather be dining today.

I'm given a third gown at this point. I have to change into this one, and return the second gown to Kathleen, who is waiting. I'm told that it's different laundry services, so they have to keep them separate. Seems like a bit of a waste to me. I'll have to check the itemized bill we're sure to receive and see if there's a 2 or 3 beside the hospital garb line.

I have to admit, this is the nicest gown of the three. A lovely blue pattern on white, heavier fabric, socky slippers and a blue cap that gives Marge Simpson hair. Once I'm dressed in my latest gown, I return the second one to Kathleen. Though we've only spent the last hour or so together, we've chatted almost constantly. Enough conversation to make us feel close enough for her to give me a sincere embrace along with her good wishes. This is what I mean about the awesome women that work here. Awesome!!

More waiting. Surgery is scheduled for 11:30. After getting my IV set up and checking my BP on my left arm for what should be the last time, we wait. Marc says he'll wait with me til it's time for me to go. I'm grateful, as I originally figured he could drop be at the breast centre and get a head start on his promised lasagna. But I'd much rather have him with me. And he gave me his lap for my footrest during the wait. What a guy!

It was nice to have that time to just talk. No blackberrys, no computers, just us. Nothing deep or earth shatttering. I think part of the reason the conversation kept flowing was just to keep our minds off things.

The nurse anesthetist popped in, introduced himself, went over his part. Another nice person. Just before surgery time, the doctor appeared. We spoke briefly and readied for the surgery.

What I found funny is the checks in place to ensure the surgery proceeds as required. Meaning. Right patient. Right part. Or in my case, left part. They ask your name, birthdate, why you're there, and which side. Now, my left breast is under layers of white tape. Removing those would reveal wires, and several puncture marks. Clearly, my left breast is the target. But they have to ask. The doctor also, as is protocol, wrote on it, further indication of the right place. Actually, I think she wrote above it, as it was covered in tape!

One of the things the nurse anesthetist had mentioned was that I might drift in and out throughout the surgery. Wouldn't feel anything he said, but I might be present.

It's probably like waking in the middle of the night, or sleepwalking. You might do it, but you don't remember. Shortly past 11:30, I was in the cool operating room, being draped with warm blankets, having something else fed into my IV. I woke in what I realized was recovery, at 2:00. Surgery done.

I Love Technology!

2010-05-17T06:27:00.000-07:00

When we lost our beloved Abby dog almost 2 years ago, it was impossible to talk about it without shedding a puddle of tears. For at least a month or two. So I relied on the internet to share this news with friends and family, near and faraway. Cowardly? Perhaps. But living in the 21st century, it's an option I take advantage of.

And so it was when I wanted to share the news of my breast cancer diagnosis. While I can keep a secret, I'm a lousy liar. I also like to believe myself to be somewhat empathetic, and so I choose to spare my friends from having to share their initial, sometimes horrified reaction, in my presence. I know I could never hide my true emotions in the face of this kind of news. So I turn to email.

The Friday before my surgery, before Mother's Day, before the weekend of Nick's RUSH shows, I sent an email to friends and family, near and far. It was exactly 3 weeks after I had received the news of my diagnosis. I had had time to process, share with some, plot a battle plan with my doctor, and take care of a few things that I would be unable to do for a period of time following the surgery.

The first response was from my childhood friend Carla, who wrote from her blackberry. She's a teacher, so I was surprised to hear from her during the day. But she sent a lengthy message of love and support and also mentioned that her mom had been asking about me. Unbeknownst to me, my parents had requested a mass be said at church, for my health. Our childhood church, scene of our first communion together, attempts to duck out of catechism and church, of quiet rows of blue capes shoulder to shoulder in sodalilty.

I heard from friends who responded immediately, straight from the heart. Confessing to typing through tears. Friends who's work email addresses I use generated a couple of auto out of office replies. Some waited to compose their emails until they had taken the time to process the information, offering that explanation with their reply. Thanks Jen! Friends and family who were aware of my diagnosis, acknowledging my next step.I heard from friends and family who are either cancer survivors themselves, successfully keeping cancer at bay, or who have friends or family celebrating survivor anniversaries. Jay. Sandy. Full of optomism and encouragement.

But the universal message was love. Love in the offers of meals, rides, company, chores, childcare. And in the Love You's. That's how I feel too.

Jay shared a story of a friend who battled cancer in solitude, sharing it with no one but his wife, thinking he was sparing his grown children. He had the flu a lot during that time. While he beat the cancer, it came back eventually, and he survived a short period of weeks after this time sharing it with his loved ones.

My Aunt Judy's Mom beat cancer over 25 years ago, and she's still going strong at 92. My Aunt said she attributed her success to the support of her loved ones, all around her. I'm with her on that!

I am so blessed to have the love and support of so many amazing people. My friends and family. Here in PA. In Winnipeg. Vancouver. Texas and St. Adolphe! I feel safe and strong wrapped in their collective arms.
Cancer doesn't stand a chance against all this.

The Sharing of Information

2010-04-29T08:58:00.000-07:00

I was at Gaby's school for Childwatch yesterday. Kindergarten lunch is pretty early, and my dear friend Jennell is one of the kindergarten teachers there, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to grab a few minutes with her and share the news of the latest chapter in my life.
To make my long story a bit shorter, Jennell was great. I was so concerned with what her reaction might be, and told her this prior, so she promised to have none. And she did a great job! Thanks Nell!
But this nevertheless convinced me that I either need more practice delivering this sort of information face to face, or that I should just use email!
I also told my friend Nary last Friday, in person. But she was driving, which meant we no prolonged eye contact. That was good. And because we were driving up to Assi Plaza, a good 20 minutes, I had time to give her the long drawn out saga, similar to what I've written here.
Now, everyone else with whom I've shared so far, knew that I was awaiting biospy results and had a chance of receiving that information Friday afternoon. So it was a simple yes or no. Good or bad. I emailed Elise, texted Elizabeth, and messaged Carole and Annmarie via FB.
I called Marc at work as soon as I hung up with the doctor, but couldn't reach him. My sister Linda called a minute later, knowing from my Mom that I could have news that afternoon. So she was the first person I 'told'. Disbelief. We spoke for awhile, and she agreed to share the news with my parents, as Nick was already home and Gaby soon would be. We also agreed that her new high risk status as a result of my diagnosis meant that she needed to call her doctor and set up regular screenings.
By the time Linda and I were getting off the phone, Marc was calling back. More disbelief. And a promise to come home asap!
In sharing with Jennell, I also asked that she pass along this information to those at school who should know: Gaby's teacher, principal, guidance counselor, some of the teachers who teach specials like art, techonology, etc. Once Gaby and Nick are in on what's going on, my hope is that nothing will change at school. It will continue to be their safe and fun place where they can just be themselves, be students. Be with their friends.
But in case there are changes in their moods, behaviors, grades, or in the case of Gaby, discussion of what's going on, because she lives up to her name, I would like those at the school to be aware of the situation.
I need to contact the elementary school guidance counselor to ask for advise in how to share this with my children. She's a wonderful woman who's been there since Nick's elementary school days, and she also faced off against cancer several years ago. So I think she can offer both professional and personal advice.
I want to tell them before the surgery. That day, I will need to be out the door too early to put Gaby on the bus first, so she'll have to go to a neighbor's and will want to know why! If not for that, I might have waited til after the surgery. But not too long after, as we're flying to Winnipeg on the 26th of May, and I'll have to wear a compression sleeve on my left arm due to the risk of lymphodema (another post!) I don't want to lie about why I'm wearing it, so by then, they'll know.
I want to share this news with them before the surgery, enough before the surgery so that they can process the information, and hopefully pose their questions and concerns. But my surgery is May 11th, Mother's Day is May 9th, Nick's School of Rock shows are May 7th and 8th, with final rehearsal May 6th. Marc leaves town tomorrow and isn't back til May 6th. May 5th is open house at Gaby's school. Maybe I'm overthinking this, but I don't want the news to be disturbing and disruptive to all that's going on. I don't want to tell them on Mother's Day. Not what you want to remember looking back on Mother's Day.Which is also why I'm not having the surgery this Tuesday, May 4th. (The doctor's at the surgical centre Tuesdays, which we both prefer to trying to do this at the hospital) Who wants to remember their 15th birthday as the one when Mom had her cancer surgery? We even changed his allergy shot appointment next week, to Monday from Tuesday, so he wouldn't be receiving those shots on his birthday!
So right now, Nick and Gaby do not know.
And right now, I think I should put to paper, the thoughts and explanation that have been swirling in my head for almost two weeks now, for my friends and family, here and faraway, and get that email out! For now, I will exclude Pier, Manon and Nathan. Manon is writing her final, final finals for medicine next week. The 5th is the last day. Pier and her Nathan are getting married on May 28th, and are in the midst of wedding and travel plans. I could tell Nathan, but I don't want him to have to keep it from his sisters. So I'll share it after the wedding.
I reread my first two posts on this here new blog, and the tone is a bit depressing! I must stress that I am not perpetually bummed out! I'm still procrastinating, and busy, the house still isn't as clean as you'd think a SAHM's would be, nor is the yard anywhere near shipshape. I still get annoyed with the kids, Marc, the dog, and still laugh and have fun with them, and my friends. I sitll bitch and moan about petty things, mostly to myself, and still marvel at those who can't. Keep their bitching and moaning to themselves, that is. And by that I mean strangers. Girlfriends, well, that's one of the reasons we're there for each other, isn't it?!
Life hasn't really changed. The dog still steals food whenever she thinks she can, Gaby's shoes are still all over the house, Nick doesn't remember that he's now tall enough to reach the towel hook, and Marc still misplaces everything. I still grab a baby wipe to spot clean the doggie dust bunnies instead of having a set day to vacuum, and still have to send the kids down to the dryer to find the latest clean clothing item out of the dryer. I'm still cooking, coming up with meals that satisfy 1/2 of us all of the time. Marc and I were all about the chicken scallopini last night; the kids, not so much! They preferred the breaded cutlets from the night before, of which there would have been leftovers had I not left them in the oven, off of course, for the 24 hours following dinner. I should be putting the sand in the cracks of the patio right now, and instead I'm blogging! Things really haven't changed much.
I am so thankful for all of the great people I'm surrounded by, both literally and figuratively. I'm blessed with so many great people in my life. Strong. Supportive. Considerate. Caring. Just all around awesome! I love you all and thank you for the privilege of sharing the good, the bad and the ugly. And for sticking by me through all of that. The battle's just begun, but with all of you behind me, and beside me, cancer doesn't stand a chance! Love you all!!

How It Unfolded

2010-04-27T20:24:00.000-07:00

I scheduled my yearly routine mammogram a bit late this year. I can go mid-February. For my Canadian friends and family, the 'can' is the health insurance company. They cover a yearly mammogram, so they must be at least that far apart!
But I forgot, and by the time I got around to scheduling it, my appointment was March 24th. A Wednesday. The day Marc returned from almost 2 weeks away in Singapore and Australia. The day after Nathan's 21st birthday. Just an ordinary day.
And it was. My appointment was early afternoon, so as not to interfere with our after school stuff. As usual.
But instead of receiving a form in the mail, with the 'everything's OK' box checked, I received a phone call, the following Monday.
Monday March 29th.
First day of spring break. We were in the midst of painting eggs and lunching with the Smiths and Blankemeyers. Nick had gone to the allergist in the morning for testing, coming home with 32 pokes of varying size and redness. He was resting upstairs. The phone rang, and I was told that it was necessary to schedule a follow up mammogram, and ultrasound. During the day. When the doctors are there. So they could look at the images right away. (I should mention that I go to our local hospital's offsite location for my mammograms. close. easy parking. and you can't get lost inside the facility)
I hung up the phone and had to get back to eggs and lunch. With that familiar feeling of dread hanging over me. Worried. Anxious. The 'what ifs' racing through my mind.
However, it was spring break, so ultimately, our busy week dulled that dread. Nick headed to the shore on Wednesday with his friends (and parents of course!) Gaby and I were occupied with her book club, sleepovers, the park, hanging with friends, the things we do when there's no school. So my anxiety diminished, not to return til the night before my appointment.
Wednesday, April 7th.
Mammogram 1:30, Ultrasound 2:20. The usual, no deodorant, perfume, etc. I go to a Breast Centre for my mammograms. The people there deal with this all the time. Every day. They're professionals. And they're all women. From the first sympathetic and supportive look I received from the registrar who realized that I had indicated my most recent mammogram to have been two weeks prior, I actually felt better. No pity, just understanding. Concern. Support.
I brought a book to pass the time, but once we got started, there wasn't too much down time. Mammogram. Tackle a few pages. Ultrasound. A couple more pages. Listen to the radiologist's findings and recommendation. A biopsy. Whoa. Now we're moving along to the next step. Definitely not routine anymore.
The radiologist explains I will be scheduled for an ultrasound guided biopsy. Same facility. My doctor requests that his patients be fast-tracked. As opposed to non-fast-tracked, which I can't understand the need for. I'm given the names of 5 breast surgeons that my doctor would recommend. I choose the lone female in the group, not for that reason, but because she's the only one located in an office offsite. Away from the hospital. And I do notice that her business cards, sitting amongst a sea of doctors' cards, are in the big box they come in, almost empty, as opposed to the others in regular little business card holders. So I figure she must also be the choice of many.
I have a nurse assigned to me. Her name is Anne. She tells me that I will leave, with my biopsy scheduled, as well as a pre-procedure appointment with the breast surgeon. Standard procedure. The doctor will have to look at my films, which I'll also leave with, to decide if she's in agreement with the biopsy.
Anne sets up the biopsy appointment for the 14th. One week. She's has to duck out to the adjacent room to set up the doctor appointment, as there's no phone where we are. After a bit of back and forth to confirm my personal information and schedule, she comes back with an appointment for me, for Monday the 12th.
Anne tells me they do 7 or 8 biopsies daily at this facility. Eighty percent of them are benign. She had one herself last year. She leaves her last name and number among the papers in my pink folder that comes home with me. Along with my films.
Anne tells me I can call that number if I have questions. She checks messages several times a day.
Despite facing the next step, I feel better than when I woke up that day. The people who work at places like this deserve so much more recognition than they get. They are so very kind and supportive. They have mastered steps and procedures that leave their patients feeling well taken care of and reassured.
Monday, April 12th.
Appointment with the breast surgeon. She confirmed the need for the biopsy, made sure my questions and concerns were addressed, and we agreed we would talk again once the results were in her hands. I should mention here that the lump in question, though 1.5 cm , couldn't be detected by the doctor. Or me.
Wednesday, April 14th.
We had tickets for the Lion King the night before, so I knew I could count on Marc to be home to put Gaby on the bus. My appointment was at 8, but I was to be there at 7:30. Again, no deodorant, perfume. I know the drill.

The biopsy is done in an ultrasound room. The same person who did the ultrasound last week. Mary. The same nurse who now has me assigned to her. Anne. And the doctor performing the biopsy. Lee. Dr, that is.
Details aren't necessary, except to note that Anne held my hand throughout the procedure, advising me to squeeze if the pain was too much. The possibility of excessive pain is at the beginning, the needle they use to administer the lidocaine, novocaine, whichever it was. It didn't really take that long. I think my recovery took longer. It might have been the fact that I didn't take the time to eat anything that morning, or it could have been stress. In any case, I was actually light headed and a bit delirious when I was allowed to sit up. So I was provided with peanut butter crackers and fruit punch, which did help.
I left with strict instructions to apply ice packs, restrict phyical activity, avoid baths, and leave the bandage on for at least 5 days. I was very uncomfortable that first day, stayed in a sports bra day and night for those 2 days following, and developed some attractive brusing. I also left with the knowledge that the results would be provided to the doctor that Friday, Monday for sure. Anne suggested I call the doctor's office Friday afternoon, as there's a good chance they'll have the results and may not get around to calling.
The biopsy was done on a Wednesday, and Gaby stayed home sick Thursday and Friday. Normally that's fine.A sick child needs lots of cuddles. Normally that's fine too. But she always seems to snuggle in on my left side. Which is now my bad side.
At this point, my children know nothing and that's the way I want it. And that's a whole other post. So this was the start of concealing it from them.
Which is why I waited til 2:30 on Friday to call my Dr.'s office. Nick gets home at 2:45, so I wanted to be alone in my reaction to whatever news I would receive.
I sat down at the island in the kitchen at 2:30, phone in one hand and my trusty pink folder in the other. Pen and paper at the ready.
The receptionist answers, puts me on hold, the doctor picks up and gives me life changing news: "there is a finding that must be dealt with" .
In the next two sentences, in what context I can't recall, the words "breast cancer". We set up an appointment for Monday morning, 8:30, to plan our attack. I receive assurances that it is treatable and there's no reason to think otherwise.
Friday, August 16th. It's confirmed. I have breast cancer.

Me??!!

2010-04-27T18:55:00.000-07:00

Cancer? Unbelieveable! Me? No way! It's always someone else we're talking about, whispering about, feeling sorry for, making meals for, praying for. Not me.
Breast cancer? That can't be. I have breast cancer?
That's difficult to say. I have breast cancer. Difficult to accept.
My new reality.
I was trying to come up with something clever, like BCD, ACD (before cancer diagnosis, after cancer diagnosis) But the truth is, right now, 10 days after hearing the words 'there is a finding that must be dealt with', and then in the next sentence or two, 'breast cancer', it's not dominating my days the way I always thought something like this would.
I thought there would be this constant feeling of dread hanging over me, keeping me from falling into a peaceful sleep at night, and the first thing that would come to mind upon waking. To compare, disagreements with Marc, or behavior issues with my kids have elicted these feelings. On several occasions. So I'm really surprised that 'breast cancer' isn't crossing my mind every 5 minutes.
You know how when, you either want to get pregnant and can't, or you don't want to be pregnant and your period's late, pregnant women are everywhere? That's kind of how it's been since I received a call to come back for a repeat mammogram and ultrasound. Television commercials for the many cancer treatment centres in our area. Donation solicitations in the mail for the American Cancer Society, St. Jude's, Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, you name it. Granted, there have also been requests from The Red Cross, Habitat, and Haiti Relief, but those don't get my attention as readily these days.
I'm afraid to tell people. I think they'll start looking at me differently. Truthfully, I have several friends and acquaintances who have battled breast cancer in the last few years, and everytime I see them, I think of that. One of Nick's classmate's mothers, whom I cross paths with maybe once a year now, faced off and beat breast cancer four or five years ago. That once a year, when I see her, I still recall that.
I'm not sure why. Is it because breast cancer, as a woman, is so much more relateable and consequently, feared? We can certainly empathize.
My dear friend Elise and I were talking about this the day after my diagnosis. As someone who was diagnosed with mental illness several years ago, she compared her situation to mine, in that some people seem to view her differently now. She's always been very open and honest about it, as I would like to be.
I don't think 'mental illness' when I see Elise. Now, perhaps that's because I see her quite regularly. I do realize that hers is a lifelong battle. She appears to be coping well. I don't view her differently.
We agreed that a cancer diagnosis is almost always thought of as a battle for your life, and one that some folks don't win. That might be why I look those people differently. Why I always think of that.
And now, I'm one of those people!
Right now, the few people who know, don't look at me differently. At least I don't feel like they are. They are awesome. They are loving. They are supportive. They are on my side. They're determined to help me through this. For that I am so very thankful.