Two, Infinity, and Beyond

This week I will celebrate two full years since the completion of my treatment. I am still living cancer-free. I'm healthy and PREGNANT to boot. Who knew?

As I approached this landmark week, I found myself wondering what had become of my little breast cancer blog. As it turns out, it still gets a little bit of traffic, the occasional visitor and even a comment from time to time. This inspired me to return and add a post--ideally I'm back for the long haul.

So, two years out of treatment and a year and a half since my last post--what have I been doing?

-Started a new job

-Moved

-Got a promotion

-Have supported my husband who is rapidly approaching his last semester of law school

-Got a dog

-Grew my hair back out (shoulder length now)

-Am in the midst of house shopping

-Got pregnant (due in May 2012)

Basically, normal stuff. My point? Life goes on and the day does come when you make it through a full 24-hour period without ever once thinking about cancer.

That said, the big "C" has been on my mind as of late due to the fact that I know three friends, all my age, who are fighting cancer at the moment--two themselves, and the other as a co-survivor for her younger (yes, I said younger) brother. I simply hope that my experience can provide them with a touch of hope. Cancer can and does lose...every single day.

This brief blog was not a fluke. More to come...I promise. I know several women who "mommy-blog" and I know a few who "survivor-blog." Perhaps I'll try a combination for a while...

You Gotta Know Your Limits

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Today, I got good news. The radiologist looked at me and said, "Everything looks good, I don't see anything on the scans that we should be concerned about!" Relief--at least for the next four months until I have to do this again--washed over me.

Thank you for the support, the prayers, and the well-wishes! They truly paid off and I truly am relieved and thankful.

In addition to learning today that my good health is still with me, I learned something very important about myself. I do NOT know my limits.

For a solid month now, my heart has been racing, my blood pressure has been off the charts, I've been distracted, quick to anger, and easy to upset. And while I've been experiencing this month of turmoil (and quietly crying when I get a moment alone, if I'm being really honest), I have not said a word...to anyone...about how afraid I've been. Sure, I've commented offhandedly that I'm "a little nervous" or "hoping for a good result," but I've been doing exactly what I did throughout my 8 months of treatment--I've been more concerned about every other person's delicate sensibilities than with allowing myself to feel fear and move past it.

I really need to know my limits. I let out a sigh today--my shoulders relaxed, my heart slowed down, and the tension that has gripped my body for weeks finally released. It felt fantastic. I've gotta know my limits.

I am experiencing all of this at the ripe old age of 25, which means I have, God willing, many many years of these tests ahead of me. Basically, that means I really need to learn to deal with this in a way that doesn't break me each and every time. For the time being, I have to go through these follow-ups every four months. Later, it will be every six months, and finally it will be once each year. It will be every year. Every. Single. Year. If I don't know my limits, the stress is going to eat me alive.

So what does knowing my limits mean? It means I lean on my husband, my parents (all four of them), my fellow-survivors, and my friends for support instead of shielding them from my fear for what I believe--perhaps mistakenly-- is for their own benefit. It means I learn to take my own advice--find serenity, find courage, find the wisdom to know when each reaction is appropriate. Rely on prayer for the rest.

Today, I begin a brand new year...a brand new cancer free year. I will continue to grow and I will continue to learn how to deal with an "old woman's" disease as very young woman. I thank you for your support, encouragement, and prayers and I humbly ask that you continue to keep those still fighting their own cancer battles in your prayers. I know I do. You know who you are and I'm sending prayers your way!

One Year to the Day

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

It has been over four months since my last post, but today I feel it appropriate to post again. One year ago today, while I was in the shower--simply getting ready, going through my morning routine before heading off to work--I found a lump, and a very large lump at that, in my left breast. That discovery led to a whirlwind eight month journey (which I foolishly believed would take 5 months when I set out on it), which finally came to a close in November 2009.

Now, on the first anniversary of my "lump day," I find myself afraid again. This time it is not the unknown I fear, but repitition.

Tomorrow, I will go on for my first round of follow-up testing--a mammogram and an ultrasound. I have had two physical breast exams since the completion of my treatment, but other than that, I have been largely under my own care. This is scary. For months I saw doctors, nurses, and healthcare professionals on a weekly, semi-weekly, or even daily basis. To have not been under the constant care of a doctor in the last four months is intimidating, to say the least, as I head into this round of testing.

Compounding my stress and fear is a completely irrational line of thinking, which I, for reasons unbeknownst to me, continue to entertain. I have this recurring thought that since tomorrow is the beginning of a brand new year (if I start counting with the beginning of my cancer battle) and that it could be the beginning of a brand new cancer battle. I can't expel the thought. I'm trying...I swear.

All this leads me to once again humbly ask for your prayers, thoughts, and well-wishes when I go in tomorrow. If you're one of those people who likes to get specific, I would request that you pray for a clean bill of health--no calcifications or blooms on the mammogram and no dark spots on the ultrasound. If you like to keep it vague and all-encompassing, please just hope and pray for continued health and wellness for me.

My love and appreciation as always!

DONE!!!!

That's right, everyone. I am D-O-N-E, done with cancer treatment. My five month journey (which actually turned out to be more like 7 1/2 months) has come to an end.

Just to recap the really significant dates:

March 24th: I found a lump in my breast.
March 27th: I had a needle biopsy performed.
March 31st: I receive a call telling me I have cancer.
April 1st: I meet my oncologist to go over what my treatment plan will be.
April 6th: I start the first of 8 rounds of chemo.
July 27th: I FINALLY finish a very long 3 1/2 months of chemo.
August 21st: I have my lumpectomy.
September 23rd: I begin the first of 35 rounds of radiation (every business day for 7 weeks).
November 10th: I have my last radiation treatment, thus completing my cancer treatment.

I'm sure I'll forget these dates someday, but for the moment they're burned into my memory. It has been a very long journey that I have looked forward to the end of for so very long!

Now I just keep asking myself, "what now?"

After my last treatment, the tech looked at me and said, "That's it! You're done! Congratulations! Now just schedule a follow-up for one month from now as you leave."

It's very odd to receive daily attention and treatment and then to suddenly hear, "See ya in a month." It's a little scary that I'm now the proprietor of my own health again. I did such a great job with that the first time....

Anyway, as I've said before, I was foolish to call this blog "Five Month Journey" because this journey is absolutely never going to end. It is life long even though the hardest, most taxing (at least physically) parts are now behind me. A relief for sure, but a source of fear as well.

I would like to thank all of you for your support, your words of encouragement, the gifts and cards that you've sent, the positive phone calls I've received, the visits from friends, the dinners you delivered, the constant willingness to help me in any way you were able, and the prayers whispered on my behalf. All of these things--each of you--are what made me strong through every step of this journey. Your support has not gone unnoticed and it will not be forgotten.

Thank you all!

Now I'm taking suggestions and requests for directions you'd like to see this blog take. It can't really be a step-by-step documentation of my cancer treatment anymore. So...suggestions?

Onward and Upward

Monday, November 2, 2009

This is simply amazing! It seems like daily there is a new article detailing a new advancement! There is so much promise and hope ahead!

Cheers and have a great week! I know I will. This is my last full week of treatment. I'm counting down until next Tuesday!

The Final Stretch

Thursday, October 29, 2009

It's a rainy, dreary Thursday afternoon, but I really can't complain. My blissful state of ease is largely due to the fact that today, I reached another small goal.

While I have 35 total radiation treatments, the first 27 are a little different than the last 8. The first 27 treatments cover the whole breast--from center of the sternum to the armpit to well above the breast and well below. The last 8 treatments, on the other hand, cover only the small area where the cancer was located.

I currently have a large blue square drawn on my breast that has to remain there until after my last treatment. It's a square directly around my scar and that is where the last 8 treatments will be directed.

Today marks the last of my first 27 treatments. I now only have the 8 more focused treatments to go! Yippee! Small victory!

Throughout the whole treatment schedule my symptoms have been minimal until this week. After last Friday's treatment I noticed a lot more skin redness and discomfort and as of today, my underarm, in particular, looks like I have a very very serious burn. However, if that's the only trouble I'm going to have....I'll TAKE it! I'll say it again...compared to chemo, these 27 treatments have been an absolute breeze.

In other news, my hair continues to grow--slower than I'd like, of course. I'm back at the gym daily, which is making me feel like I can regain some semblance of normalcy after all. And, I'm looking ahead to mid-November when I can finally say I'm done with treatment!

I'll keep you posted!

Hair/Radiation Update

My cancer journey has been relatively boring lately, which is my lame-o explanation for why I'm not posting anything.

I am 17 treatments into radiation, which means I'm about halfway done. I'm still counting down to November 11th as the very end of treatment (also my parents' anniversary, so there are many things to celebrate that day). The radiation front is relatively boring though...

I'm not really having any side effects besides a little fatigue and a little skin redness and irritation. The prescription gel they gave me is working wonders and I'm so used to being tired all the time from the chemo that I barely even notice it with the radiation. Basically...radiation is a BREEZE if you've been through chemo and surgery already.

Now...to the more interesting point. Hair.

Never in my 25 years of life have I gotten as many compliments on my hair as I have in the last 2 weeks. All of the following terms have been used to describe me and my hair (just in the last two weeks):

1. Chic
2. Adorable
3. Cute
4. Classy
5. Sexy
6. Fashion forward
7. And, one woman even said that I was the perfect example as to why it is such a shame that more women do not go for short hair these days. She said, "If all women looked as good as you do with short hair...that would be the standard."

I personally thought that last one was a bit over the top, but I was in a Starbucks and everyone seems to think of everyone else as a best friend or long lost soul mate when you're in Starbucks...I don't know why. Starbucks frequenters do tend to think of themselves as all things urban chic! Apparently, with this hair, I now "belong" at Starbucks.

Anyway, here's an updated picture. Just as a reminder, I completed chemo at the end of July and my hair had started back in just a little bit before I finished. This is about 3 months of hair growth.

1/5 down...

Thursday, October 1, 2009

First, happy October. Second, I'm 1/5 of the way through radiation treatment. I'm 7 treatments down and 28 to go.

It's fall and the leaves are beginning to turn. As the leaves begin to fall away, I can't help but equate my cancer journey with the turning of the seasons.

In the spring, as the new growth began, a tumor was growing in my body.

As the summer heat poured into open doors and windows, and roasting humans ran into air conditioned homes to escape the discomfort...hot to cold, hot to cold...so went my chemo. From extreme discomfort to feeling almost normal, and back again...I pivoted between chemo on and off weeks.

Now, as the fall comes, all that spring and summer had to offer is falling away--my cancer is falling away.

I'm in the final stage of treatment and this experience is fading. The flurry of phone calls, cards, and letters has stopped. The phrase, "I have cancer," has left my vocabulary because, in all technicality, I no longer HAVE cancer.

For six months, no matter how hard I tried to avoid it, cancer dominated my life and controlled my existence. Now, as that period of my life begins to fade away, I find myself temporarily floundering--searching for how I move past this and resume some sort of normalcy. I'm working on it...but for now, I seem to be alternating between elation, frustration, and maintaining the status quo...

Let me stop right there. I apologize. This post was reflective at best, self-indulgent at worst, and the moment has passed. The effervescent, perky optimist will return with the next post...I assure you. For now, goodnight and thank goodness the weekend is near! TGIF!

And Radiation Begins...

Saturday, September 26, 2009

I know, I know, I know...I haven't updated in quite some time, but truthfully there hasn't been anything to tell. Let me catch you up on the last couple of weeks...

Wednesday, September 16: I went in for my initial radiation visit. At this first visit, all they do is line you up and do a CT scan to figure out how you will be laying and where your treatment will be directed. Then...they tattoo you. Yes, I mean actual tattoos. I have four little tattoos, no bigger than a freckle. I have one on each side on my ribs, one on my chest and one right in the middle of my stomach. They aren't obvious or anything, but I will have them forever...they are tattoos after all.

Tuesday, September 22: I went back in thinking that I was starting radiation. I was wrong. At this visit, I simply had more preparation. This time they lined me up again based on my tattoos and took my "measurements." I can only assume that means they did something like calibrate the machine for me so they can put in my numbers and direct the radiation treatment to the right location. Then, they did x-rays and sent me on my merry way again.

Wednesday, September 23: I finally went in for my first actual radiation treatment. They scheduled me for every day at 11:20am, so I will be spending every lunch hour (for 35 working days) at the cancer center. On Mondays, I will see my radiation oncologist right after my radiation treatment and on Thursdays I will have blood work--I must say, I thought I was done with weekly blood draws. Bummer.

In the treatment, nothing touches me and I don't feel anything. I'm in there on the table for all of five minutes and then I'm done for the day. It's sort of anticlimactic. There is so much preparation and then the actual treatments are super short. I didn't notice any side effects after treatment #1.

Thursday, September 24-11:20am: I went in for my daily radiation--treatment #2. I had my first weekly blood draw and didn't bother staying for my results. They'll call me if I should be careful or concerned. 2 treatments down, 33 to go. Still no side effects. At this point, I'm getting pretty pumped and I am totally unconcerned with cancer treatment.

6:30pm: I head off to my kickball game. For those of you who do not know, I play adult recreational kickball. I had been incredibly excited to get back to playing and feel well enough to do so. In the first inning, I score a run and make a catch for an out. In the second inning, all goes well and we're winning 4-1. In the third inning, I kick again...it's a good kick and I make it to 2nd base, but barely. I slide in to second and this is what happened-->

7:30pm: Joe makes it to the kickball field to pick me up and take me to the ER so I can get x-rays of my ankle. The ER doc told me that he didn't "think" it was broken, but there was so much swelling that it was hard to tell. He gave me a Loritab prescription and a brace, slapped an ice pack on me and sent me on my merry way telling me that if it didn't improve in a week, then I should get more x-rays because it might be broken. Thanks, doc. Noted.

Friday, September 25: I stay home from work to keep my foot iced and elevated, so I attempt to telecommute. The internet goes down in my office, so NO ONE ends up working. At least it was a good day to stay home with an injury. I went in for radiation treatment #3....on crutches. Sad day.

Saturday, September 26: Today, I have mostly just laid on my couch taking Loritab every 4-6 hours. I'm in quite a lot of pain, though it's nice that my pain is no longer cancer/cancer treatment related. I am VERY disappointed, however, that just as I get back on my feet playing kickball, playing soccer, and joining a bootcamp class at my gym, I get injured and have to take to the sidelines once more. I'm sick of the sidelines. I have never been a sidelines kind of girl. I'm one of those people who likes to be in the midst of the action, in the heart of the game. The sidelines don't feel right to me. I suppose I just have to get ALL of my medical setbacks out of the way in 2009 so 2010 can be a perfect, flawless year! :) So...hoping ER doc was right and it's just a bad sprain (no breaks), because I'm ready to be back on the horse figuratively speaking.

Just as a note, here are a couple of pictures of how the ankle is looking today....icky, I know. In fact, I think it looks considerably worse today than it did at the ER. The picture up above was taken at the ER. In the picture from the ER, the ankle is swollen, but it's just a knot on the outside. Now, it's black all over--down on the foot and on the inside and outside of the ankle. On top of that, the whole foot and ankle is swollen....I mean, it's huge. Here's one more picture (just below) for you to see the comparison. Both feet, side by side. Ewww....

Hair Regrowth Update

Sunday, September 13, 2009

I don't really have much to report at the moment. I met with my radiation oncologist on Thursday and we set up my first appointment for radiation treatments. It's scheduled for this coming Wednesday. The first appointment isn't really a treatment, it's when they mark you up and figure out where the radiation beams will be directed, but radiation will begin pretty promptly after that happens on Wednesday.


The only real update I have is a hair regrowth update. I've posted some pictures below. The first picture was taken 3 weeks ago and the second and third were taken today...that should show you just a little about the pace of growth. I tell ya...now that it has started back in, it can't grow fast enough. :)

Labor Day Weekend

Sunday, September 6, 2009

This will be a very brief and quick update because there isn't really much to report yet. I had my first full week (last week) since March when I went all week without seeing a doctor. A little crazy to think about that actually....

I spent the week recovering, taking antibiotics to fight off what appeared to be a bit of an infection, and mostly just babying my new scars.

In the week to come, I have a follow-up appointment with my oncologist, who I haven't seen since my last chemo treatment at the end of July, and I have an appointment with my radiation oncologist. I'm told radiation traditionally starts 2-3 weeks after surgery and 3 weeks will be this coming Friday. My appointment with the doctor is Thursday, so who knows....I could be starting radiation as early as Friday or next Monday.

I'll know more about what is to come after my Tuesday and Thursday appointments, so I'll wrap it up here for now! More updates to come later in the week!

Oh....and in totally unrelated to cancer news...I got promoted at work! Cancer free, a promotion, and a raise, all in the same week! I've said it before and I'll say it again...after how the first 7-8 months of 2009 went...things can only get GOOD from here! It appears, so far, that good is going to be VERY GOOD! I can't wait for the rest of 2009! Bring it on!

Post-Surgery Updates

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Okay, so I was waiting to share this with everyone until I had all the information, which didn't actually happen until yesterday!

My surgeon got the pathology back and it definitely looks good! I am 100%, absolutely, cancer-free!! My surgeon got VERY clean margins in all directions...except one. It wasn't a large margin (larger margins are good) in that one place, however, it was still a clean one. In that one particular spot, my surgeon was within 5mm (yes, millimeters) of some precancerous cells. Though very small, 5mm still counts as a clean margin. The reason it has taken so long to determine this is that my surgeon wanted to wait until he had consulted with my radiation oncologist as to whether she believed it was enough of a margin to begin radiation. Had she disagreed, I would have needed to go back in for more surgery so they could take out more tissue.

After double checking with my radiation oncologist, she gave the go-ahead to start radiation because she feels that margin, though small, is plenty.

The pathology also showed some new and interesting stuff about the cancer itself. Everyone kept telling me that the cancer, as it appeared on the MRI, ultrasound and all other tests, had shrunk (due to chemo) down to about 1cm x 1cm. Well, pathology shows that the area amounting to 1x1 actually included that precancerous stuff I mentioned before. The good news is that precancerous cells are not technically cancer and there is no guarantee that those would become cancerous at all--they are a pretty good indicator, but it's by no means certain. Additionally, that 1x1 area included some other stuff that wasn't actually cancer--just darkened areas that appear on the tests. As it turns out....the actual cancer was only about 1mm!!! That is HUGE news! It speaks volumes for how effective the chemo was.

It is just so amazing to me that such a teeny tiny thing can cause so much trouble and fear!

Anyway, yesterday I went back in for a 1 week after-surgery follow-up and most of my sutures were removed. Some are internal and will just dissolve, but the ones on the ends of each incision had to be taken out. As a result, I'm pretty sore and uncomfortable today, but overall I'm healing up nicely.

My surgeon also seems to have done a FANTASTIC job of balancing the....aesthetic, if you will... with the necessary. I'm going to have two pretty rockin' scars, 3 inches a piece--one in my armpit and one across the top of my breast, but I really think they're not going to be that noticeable! And just between us...and the rest of the internet-reading world...you can't even tell I had an area of 9 square cm removed. :)

So, what's next, you may ask? Well, I meet with my radiation oncologist in 2 weeks and will start radiation 2-3 weeks from now. In two weeks, I will be released to resume all normal physical activity (soccer, running, etc.) and my hair seems to be growing back quickly and filling in pretty well! I'm looking forward to rockin' the pixie hair cut this winter! I hear it's in these days.

I am not sure of what my radiation treatment schedule will be or how many treatments I will need quite yet. That will be something I find out at my upcoming appointment on the 10th, but so far...the good news keeps coming, we're keeping the positive vibes flowing, and I'm hoping to continue healing up nicely!

In Recovery

Sunday, August 23, 2009

One more stop along the journey is complete! On Friday, as planned, I had my surgery--a lumpectomy with sentinel node biopsy. The result? The best one could hope for.

After completing the surgery, my surgeon reported that he believes he got clean margins around the cancer, though we will not know that for a fact until later this week when the pathology comes back. If for some reason the samples of the surrounding tissue do not come back clean, I would have to go back in for more surgery. At this time, however, the surgeon seems optimistic in the belief that the cancer is out and the margins are clean.

As for the sentinel lymph nodes and other lymph nodes in the armpit, they look good. The sentinel node biopsies showed no cancer in the lymph nodes! They remove the sentinel nodes anyway as a precaution, but it was not necessary for my surgeon to remove any more of them due to the fact that the biopsies were clean!

In short, I had the least intrusive, most successful surgery one can have when it comes to breast cancer. I will be keeping my fingers crossed that all samples come back looking good this week and if they do, it is on to step 3--radiation treatment.

In other news, my hair is really starting to come back now. The first picture was taken in the midst of chemo treatment and the second and third were taken today. It's still very short, but it's definitely coming back--and it's coming back brown. Of course, I have no idea what it was naturally before, so this may or may not be a change. :) It's very wispy and fine and it seems to be almost wavy since it doesn't seem to be inclined to lay down in one direction. We shall see.

T Minus 24 Hours

Thursday, August 20, 2009

6:30am: In exactly 24 hours, I will be arriving at the Medical Center for my surgery. Needless to say, I could use your thoughts, prayers, and good vibes between now and tomorrow afternoon when I wake up from the anesthetic! Send them my way if you have a few to spare! :) I'm getting pretty nervous about the whole thing.

In totally unrelated-to-cancer news...I got a promotion at work! It's something I'm very excited about and I'm anticipating starting in the new role as a healthy, strong breast cancer survivor.

Again, I hope you'll keep thinking about me today and tomorrow. I truly believe...really, I KNOW, that it is all of you--your prayers, your kind thoughts, your well-wishes, and your confidence--that have helped me through this!

Have a wonderful Thursday and a fabulous restful weekend, All!

Another Reason for a Daily Glass of Wine

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

After I complete the second step in this process, the surgery, I will need to move on to Step 3: Radiation Treatment. If you've been following the blog then you know I had pretty extensive and pretty awful side effects with chemo, so needless to say, I've been a little worried about what the new side effects will be with radiation.

Well, today I found this article, which discusses the fact that a glass of wine each day can help reduce the intensity and severity of radiation side effects in breast cancer patients. Awesome.

Read it! It's very interesting.

Step 2: Surgery

Monday, August 17, 2009

Last week, I underwent all of my follow-up testing, which I believed would be entirely NOT interesting and totally expected. I was mistaken. What resulted was a stressful week that ended well, but was pretty emotionally tumultuous as it happened.

Friday, August 7, 2009: I arrived at the Medical Center (different than the Cancer Center) early in the morning expecting to check in at Outpatient Registration, head to the Breast Center, have a mammogram, followed by an ultrasound, followed by a breast MRI up in Radiation. This didn't exactly happen. I arrived, only to be told that I would not be having my ultrasound that day and would need to reschedule for the following Tuesday. "They" explained to me that "they" prefer to do the ultrasound after the mammogram and MRI results are received and interpreted. This made sense to me, but it inspired the question: Why did my surgeon's office schedule them all on the same day if I shouldn't have them all on the same day?

Monday, August 10, 2009: I had a relatively restful weekend. I wasn't really worried at all about my results as I wasn't done with the testing yet. In the afternoon, I received a call from my surgeon's office (not my surgeon) and was told that my MRI and Mammogram were clean and good. I asked what they showed in terms of progress and shrinking the tumor. She said, "I'm not sure." That seemed silly to me as I thought that was one of the primary purposes of the follow-up testing.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009: I go in for my ultrasound. Again, I'm totally not worried because my surgeon's office has already told me that I'm fine--nothing new or questionable.
Note: It is so important to remember that "surgeon's office" is NOT synonymous with "surgeon." I like my surgeon. I trust my surgeon.
To my shock and less than thrilled amazement, I am taken back to the procedure room and the tech says to me, "Now, we're going to do a bilateral diagnostic ultrasound and we're going to focus on the area where the cancer is and on the suspicious area in the other breast." Hold the phone! Suspicious area? No one had said ANYTHING about a NEW suspicious area until this point. I was pissed. I was scared. She does the ultrasound with me freaking out. She asks me to wait (due to the fact that she KNOWS I'm freaking out) and she has the radiologist review the images right then and there. The tech comes back in and tells me the radiologist looked at it and determined it's just a cyst--definitely fluid filled and nothing to worry about. I breathe a deep sigh of relief.

I then went up to the surgery department to get my pre-surgery blood work done. I was told that if my white blood cell counts were not 3.0 or higher, I would have to postpone surgery. At this point, I'm totally not worried. I'm still a week and a half out from surgery and my counts never rebound until 3 weeks after chemo, which was still a week away.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009: Again, I am 100% not worried about receiving a call from my surgeon's office. I have already been told we're fine. I was looking forward to discussing whether we would just remove the cyst or aspirate it. That is the ONLY reason I was waiting on the call from the office. In the afternoon, I get a call, again, not from my surgeon, just from the office. I am told that the ultrasound has caused concern over what "might be a cyst" on the right side. I am told I need to go in for a "biopsy" the following morning. She also throws in there the fact that my blood counts are too low and we may have to postpone surgery. More stress!
Let's pause for a moment: This is when I freak out. I am fully aware that you need solid tissue in order to perform a needle biopsy. That would suggest that it is NOT actually a cyst and upon further examination, the radiologist must have determined that there was solid tissue, not just fluid. I spend the rest of the day and night crying and not sleeping, thinking that I am starting this horrible process all over again.

Thursday, August 13, 2009: I arrive for my "biopsy" holding back tears, and the tech says to me, "So you know why you're here? We're going to aspirate the cyst and if it doesn't aspirate fully--if tissue remains--then we will need to biopsy that, but I don't think that will happen." At this point, I am confused. I tell her what my surgeon's office conveyed to me and that I thought I was there for a biopsy. She tells me I'm not. The procedure is actually called a "full aspiration with possible biopsy."Notice that word--possible--in there. Yeah, that makes a huge difference. Once again, a little annoyed with my surgeon's office, but not my surgeon.

They fully aspirated the cyst--and yes, it was absolutely a cyst. It's gone now.

Monday, August 17, 2009: It wasn't until today that I got a call from my surgeon's office asking if I understood that everything was fine now--in reference to the NOT biopsy cyst removal. I said yes. I think I only got the call because I had faxed them the blood work I had done at the Cancer Center this morning. The good news? My blood counts are high enough to go ahead with the surgery on Friday.

So, in short, after over a week of stress and worry over blood counts, new lumps, and all kinds of things, turns out I was right from the beginning to NOT worry. My blood counts are fine. The cancer is less than 1cm x 1cm. The total area of tissue they will remove will be about 3cm x 3cm and there are NO NEW TUMORS! Good news all around.

I'll see you next week, on the other side of surgery. Surgery will be this Friday--a lumpectomy, as planned, with sentinel node biopsy! See you soon...cancer free!

Cancer: The Grand Motivator

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Today I had lunch with the Susan G. Komen Public Policy Coordinator for Kansas. Not only did we discuss my desire to get involved as an ambassador--to speak to young women and groups across the state about my experience and the Komen mission--but we chatted about my story. We chatted about what I can share.

My God, if no reason can be found in this experience--and it can't, for the very disease is senseless--then I should at least be able to help others as a result of my journey.

Today, I also found this quote:

"Women agonize... over cancer; we take as a personal threat the lump in every friend's breast." ~Martha Weinman Lear, Heartsounds

After lunch today, never have I hoped so much that this quote rings true for all. For the women I know, young or old, I hope that my experience has, if nothing else, reinforced that this disease is age blind, color blind, and blind to socioeconomic status. We are all in this together. I want my experience, my challenging and painful experience, to mean something to those who know me.

If just one woman--just one of you, or your mothers, or your sisters, or your friends--remembers this blog and remembers my story when they find that devastating little lump, then this has all been worth it. If just one of you remembers my experience when your mammograms come back with irregularities, then this has all been worth it. If just one of you remembers my experience and it inspires you to take control of your own medical destiny, then this has all been worth it. And, if just one of you, particularly those women in my peer group, are inspired to start doing monthly self-breast exams, then this has ABSOLUTELY all been worth it.

I am motivated and I am committed.

"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face." -Eleanor Roosevelt

Happy August, Happy Wednesday

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Today marks exactly 4 months since my first chemo treatment and a little over 4 months since I received my diagnosis on March 31, 2009. Sadly, my "five-month journey" is going to be a little longer than that if I include the radiation after surgery in the count. As it stands now, I should be totally done with all treatment by the end of October.

This coming Friday, August 7th, I have my after chemo, follow-up tests: a mammogram, an ultrasound, and an MRI. I must admit I'm not looking forward to any of these tests because they're a bit uncomfortable, but I'm also anxiously awaiting the results. It's sort of driving me crazy not knowing exactly how effective those 8 chemo treatments were. I'm relatively sure I won't know anything on Friday. I'm sure I'll have to wait a few days for the results, but I'm ready to have that next step out of the way.

When the results are in, I will have one more follow-up appointment with my surgeon and then the surgery itself, which is now only 2 weeks and 2 days away--but who is really counting?

In the meantime, I'm trying to stay relaxed and stress-free (it's only kind of working) and keep myself in good health in preparation for surgery. My blood counts were very low this week, so I'm avoiding sick people at all costs and washing my hands so often they're raw...but it's 100% worth it if I can avoid any more health concerns before surgery.

Tonight, I'm taking relaxation and health to a whole new level and I'm going to take a yoga class. I'm pretty excited about it. I've also started running again in an attempt to start getting back in shape. I'm slowing stepping back into life as usual--predictable and normal never sounded so good!

Medical Fun Facts

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

I'd like to give a shout out to my friend, Jeremy, in L.A. He sent me this article detailing exciting prospects for cancer treatment in the future. Though the bulk of the article is regarding colon cancer, the final paragraph mentions the potential implications on breast tumors! I highly suggest it. It's an interesting read.

Thanks Jeremy! And check out his blog here! He always has an interesting take...always a fun read!

That's All Folks!

Monday, July 27, 2009

That's right, my friends...I am 100% done with chemo. I have, as of today, completed 8 of 8 chemo treatments and my doctor thinks very successfully so.

I must say, it feels odd to celebrate this moment when it's only the completion of the second step of this process--assuming that the first step was the road to diagnosis and my treatment plan. I know I still have surgery and radiation to get through, but this was the longest and most draining portion of the whole process so I can't help but be a bit elated.

At the same time that my giddiness has overtaken me, there are somber undertones to my mood. All along the way, I thought that the fear I was experiencing--fear of this unknown process--was about as intense as it was going to get. Now, as I near the end, and make my surgical decisions, it's the fear of making the wrong decision and having to live this experience all over again that literally keeps me awake at night.

As I stand in these shoes that so many women have walked their journey in before me, I stand fearful. I now completely understand why women make the decision to do a bilateral mastectomy whether the statistical advantage supports their decision or not. I can see how it would be worth it for the peace of mind and a life lived without daily fear--and of course, there is the resulting tummy tuck when they do the reconstruction since they take the tissue from your abdomen! :) I suppose it has its advantages, but it also means that you undergo two very serious surgeries--the bilateral mastectomy and the reconstruction. Even with a single mastectomy, it's the same story--two serious surgeries.

What I'm essentially sharing with you is my realization that this will be a lifelong struggle to not live in constant fear of experiencing this again. "Five month journey"...how naive of me. Five (a little more really) months of treatment, yes, but the journey has no end.

Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to be done with chemo and to have my Picc line out--they pulled it out right there in the chair when I was done--but let's just say that I feel as if I'm jinxing myself if I celebrate this victory TOO much. That said, I plan to celebrate a little! My dear friend, Kristen, surprised me with balloons, cookie cake, and a necklace. Joe, Kristen, and I had a little party amongst ourselves and Joe and my mom took me out to dinner afterwards to celebrate as well.

Have no fear! I will relish the happy moment and I will hope and pray that my good fortune continues. It is much to ask, but I hope that all of you will do the same. I know when it appears that the eminent danger has passed, it is easy to relax away, but I continue to need your prayers and positive thoughts. I hope I have them! Each of you are absolutely in mine! The kindness all of you have shown is overwhelming and I will never for a moment forget that it is all of you who are carrying me through this.

My love and respect to each of you!