Hope you all had a wonderful Holiday. We really enjoyed our time with our extended families. Unfortunately I wasn't the greatest company Christmas Eve because I was completely fatigued. But I made myself comfy in my favorite chair at my SIL's, and they all treated me like always -- with love and compassion -- which made me feel like more than a bump under a blanket. I headed to bed early, but it didn't seem to slow the festivities. It was wonderful to spend time with all four of the Moundays again; our timing has been a little off lately to allow that.
On Christmas morning, I woke up dizzy. I've had moments of vertigo here and there, but this was pretty steady and very unsettling. Once we got to Shelley's and had lunch, I settled into a comfy corner of their couch with my camera, and the vertigo passed. I was really worried that was going to be my existence for awhile, and that was quite frightening to me. THE KID and our little Missy had such a good day; at 21 months, McKaylen idolizes Cody, and watched -- pointing and giggling -- every move he made.
I've had a bit of a setback. A section of the skin in the 'boost' shot area is breaking down a bit. Imagine a sunburn which has started to peel. Being in the place it is, this section of skin is routinely rubbing against clothing, so it's a constant irritation, and it's rather raw and tender. The tech had Dr. Perez-Tamayo check it out before my treatment, and she checked it out again afterward. I'm assigned another ointment to use with the original anti-itch prescription ointment. For overnight, I get to use this most disgusting gauze that's impregnated with some kind of petrolatum that makes it gooey; but it sticks without tape, and that's a good thing.
The bummer is that I won't be having more radiation this week in an effort to allow this skin to heal. I am to see the doctor before radiation on Monday, and hopefully will receive my final four treatments and be finished next week, pretty close to on schedule. This came as a huge rush of disappointment that rather surprised me. But I took a few minutes to cry like a baby, then got back into the routine of the day.
One thing I have changed is giving up my bra. This makes me very self-conscious -- as it would for any C/D cup girl -- but fortunately (1) it's cold this time of year in Kansas, so (2) I can layer my clothes and (3) I don't think anybody but my doctor noticed. She's tried to get me to do without a bra all along, but I just couldn't bear being without one until I can't bear wearing it. I'm confident my mother will get a big hoot out of this, recalling how adamant she was that I wear my bra in Junior High and High School and how strongly I battled to wear halter tops without one!!! (For my younger readers, this was back in the day when we tried NOT to show our underwear to the world!!!)
I've given myself a break tonight, eaten my favorite comfort foods, slept a lot and wallowed in my disappointment. I'm off to bed shortly, and have determined that tomorrow will be a better day. Fiddle-le-de.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
32 down, 6 to go
It should be downhill from here, right? On the one hand, I'll only have three treatments per week because of the Christmas and New Year's Holidays at the Cancer Center. On the other hand, I've had 32 treatments, and they're kicking my butt. It's better now, though, because I know what to expect. I came home from a brutal day at the office yesterday and slept for two HOURS on the couch. Got up, talked on the phone a bunch, had something to eat and went back to bed!!!
Tonight was not SO bad; I only slept for an hour or so after a bit of grocery shopping. Geez, the crowds are out in the stores. The shopping's not bad (unless you want green onions from the produce department at Wal-Mart) and the shoppers are pleasant enough in the stores, but the parking is NUTS!!!
So I'm happy I'm almost finished with treatment, but I still have to get through the next couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to the break in treatment, and the Holidays -- through half-open eyes.
g'night my friends!!!
Tonight was not SO bad; I only slept for an hour or so after a bit of grocery shopping. Geez, the crowds are out in the stores. The shopping's not bad (unless you want green onions from the produce department at Wal-Mart) and the shoppers are pleasant enough in the stores, but the parking is NUTS!!!
So I'm happy I'm almost finished with treatment, but I still have to get through the next couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to the break in treatment, and the Holidays -- through half-open eyes.
g'night my friends!!!
Friday, December 12, 2008
25 down, 13 to go
Now I've had the 10 boost shots. They were a lot easier to receive, as all I had to do was lie down on the table, put my arm in its cradle, and one 30 second zap later, get dressed again. But they were a bit more intense, and, SHOCKER, tiring.
I had x-rays again on Wednesday. I'm told each time my treatment changes, I'll have a day with x-rays but no treatment. Assume the position, x-ray (x 2 or 3), photos, and get dressed.
That's right, y'all, they regularly take photos of my breast. I wonder if my left breast is jealous. It's bigger now, so it shouldn't be!!! I warned Kelli & Tiff that if those photos wound up on the internet, I knew where to find them!!!
The broader treatments resumed yesterday. Funky positioning, then 4 zaps (x ~20 seconds each), and back to the waiting room. I've been joined in this quest by a lovely lady who's a bit greyer than me named June. She has now stopped chemo until she finishes radiation; since nobody but me seems to understand cancer staging, I have no idea how she's progressing. She's a lovely lady wth the greatest salt-and-pepper hair in a snazzy short cut who presents herself each day in a wheelchair, accompanied by a sweet and gentle white-haired man whom I assumed was her husband, or at least (as mom says), 'gentleman friend'. I learned today that he's 'just' a friend, having helped care for his own mother who died from cancer, followed several years later by his own wife. He brings June to the Cancer Center every day, helps her change into her half gown, pushes her here and there as needed, keeps her company, brings her tissues, and I'm confident holds her head and her hand when she was sick from chemo. If that's not love, I don't know what is.
Watching them makes me so thankful that I'm only Stage I, but even more thankful for the man who shares my life. He's been so supportive, encouraging and understanding, though I'm confident he's worried and tired of hearing me whine.
This has been a good week; I've had a lot of energy and managed to behave more like a healthy person again. The fatigue hit like a brick this afternoon, and I've been laying around since I came home from work. But tomorrow will be better, and the end of treatment is finally in sight. I'm sorry I haven't posted more often, but it's pretty much the same thing, day after day.
I had x-rays again on Wednesday. I'm told each time my treatment changes, I'll have a day with x-rays but no treatment. Assume the position, x-ray (x 2 or 3), photos, and get dressed.
That's right, y'all, they regularly take photos of my breast. I wonder if my left breast is jealous. It's bigger now, so it shouldn't be!!! I warned Kelli & Tiff that if those photos wound up on the internet, I knew where to find them!!!
The broader treatments resumed yesterday. Funky positioning, then 4 zaps (x ~20 seconds each), and back to the waiting room. I've been joined in this quest by a lovely lady who's a bit greyer than me named June. She has now stopped chemo until she finishes radiation; since nobody but me seems to understand cancer staging, I have no idea how she's progressing. She's a lovely lady wth the greatest salt-and-pepper hair in a snazzy short cut who presents herself each day in a wheelchair, accompanied by a sweet and gentle white-haired man whom I assumed was her husband, or at least (as mom says), 'gentleman friend'. I learned today that he's 'just' a friend, having helped care for his own mother who died from cancer, followed several years later by his own wife. He brings June to the Cancer Center every day, helps her change into her half gown, pushes her here and there as needed, keeps her company, brings her tissues, and I'm confident holds her head and her hand when she was sick from chemo. If that's not love, I don't know what is.
Watching them makes me so thankful that I'm only Stage I, but even more thankful for the man who shares my life. He's been so supportive, encouraging and understanding, though I'm confident he's worried and tired of hearing me whine.
This has been a good week; I've had a lot of energy and managed to behave more like a healthy person again. The fatigue hit like a brick this afternoon, and I've been laying around since I came home from work. But tomorrow will be better, and the end of treatment is finally in sight. I'm sorry I haven't posted more often, but it's pretty much the same thing, day after day.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Getting there
So I'm over a third of the way through radiation, and hanging in there. I need to learn not to try to 'muscle through' it when I hit the wall, and just give in, go home and lie down. Especially right now, as I'm 3 or 4 visits into 10 'boost' shots of radiation. Instead of wider shots from either side of my breast, I'm getting focused, more concentrated shots directly overhead to the site of my surgery. It's quicker, because it's positioned on one new tattoo, then just one 30-second shot (compared to triangulating on my three 'old' tattoos, then four 20-second shots). But it's definitely more tiring.
I've learned my last visit is scheduled for January 6, barring any issues with my body, LOL, and the equipment -- which seems more likely. They've had one machine or the other down a good portion of the past 2 weeks, so I got 'bumped' Wednesday. This wasn't an altogether bad thing, as I was off Wednesday afternoon and was able to get rested up and felt really good for Thanksgiving with my family. I hit the wall about 3 pm and pretty much passed out as soon as we got in the van to go home (about an hour) around 5 pm.
I've been using my usual wonderful lotion (Hawaiian Tropic After Sun with Vitamin E) but it's not QUITE doing the trick in one area. The doc gave me a couple of samples, but I think her cream is what is making me itchy, so I'm giving it up!!! At this point, the majority of my breast is just light pink -- like a 'flush' as opposed to a burn -- and the 'spot' of concentration of these boost shots is kinda deep red/tan. My underarm, on the other hand, is nicely tanned for the first time in my life. LOL Other than general fatigue, I'm doing really well.
Fortunately, once I get a good rest day, I'm good to go again. So I'm off for some of that rest!!!
I've learned my last visit is scheduled for January 6, barring any issues with my body, LOL, and the equipment -- which seems more likely. They've had one machine or the other down a good portion of the past 2 weeks, so I got 'bumped' Wednesday. This wasn't an altogether bad thing, as I was off Wednesday afternoon and was able to get rested up and felt really good for Thanksgiving with my family. I hit the wall about 3 pm and pretty much passed out as soon as we got in the van to go home (about an hour) around 5 pm.
I've been using my usual wonderful lotion (Hawaiian Tropic After Sun with Vitamin E) but it's not QUITE doing the trick in one area. The doc gave me a couple of samples, but I think her cream is what is making me itchy, so I'm giving it up!!! At this point, the majority of my breast is just light pink -- like a 'flush' as opposed to a burn -- and the 'spot' of concentration of these boost shots is kinda deep red/tan. My underarm, on the other hand, is nicely tanned for the first time in my life. LOL Other than general fatigue, I'm doing really well.
Fortunately, once I get a good rest day, I'm good to go again. So I'm off for some of that rest!!!
Saturday, November 15, 2008
10 down, 28 to go
Radiation is not so bad. Just a long x-ray (about 2 minutes or so). Really. Until they don't get you positioned properly and you have to lay on that hard table in a cold room in an awkward and uncomfortable position for, oh, say, 45 minutes!!!
My first week of radiation was exhausting, which I am accrediting to two things: (1) a head cold struck about Sunday before I started treatment on Monday, and (2) I didn't know what to expect or how I'd react, and I was really keyed up about it when I started. And I'll give honorable mention to the fact that I started my aromatase inhibitor (Femara) a week or so beforehand. Evidently one of the most common side effects is muscle aches!!! By Wednesday morning, I was aching and exhausted, and had a little meltdown because I wondered how I would manage 38 treatments when I felt this bad after only 2.
So I spent last week sleeping, getting to work, clock out for radiation, radiation, clock back in to work, lunch (and a little rest) at home, back to work, home again, sleep. Repeat. The cold is better after a lot of rest at home last weekend and a few hours at work to make up some time and try to get caught up a bit. And this week has been pretty much the same, except for the Breast Cancer Support Group meeting Tuesday evening, and mostly I've felt better the second week than the first.
Then it was Thursday morning. I had gotten up feeling pretty emotional anyway, but when my positioning was wrong and it took so long to get me situated, the tears just rolled down my cheeks. OK, fine, radiation over, we figured out what went wrong and how to prevent it in the future. But I just couldn't pull myself together. So I went home about lunchtime and stayed there, resting, recharging, revitalizing.
And Friday was a good day. I realized how lucky I am when I asked my new buddy-in-radiation how many visits HE had left. The reply? "I don't know." He started radiation the same day I did, and will find out Monday when he sees Dr. Perez-Tamayo how many visits he'll have total. Monday I'm going to introduce myself properly, as he's been a spot of sunshine in a waiting room that's been less than cozy a lot of times. And I'm going to make more of an effort to chat, as I realize my magazine is as much a shield of self-protection as it is self-entertainment, and the new chick (who's probably close to 90!) could probably use a radiation buddy as well.
I slept in this morning, and am taking my time getting going. These are all the things I'm told I'll NEED, but the truth is it's cold and windy and overcast outdoors, so who cares about getting dressed and out? I'm going to, though, because I want to go to work and give myself a false sense of being caught up. There's one folder of paperwork that needs my attention, and a day of route slips that need posting. And I'm going to spend some quality time cardmaking; it rebuilds me on an altogether different level.
Funny, I just realized how little I've talked about Al throughout this process. But you all know he's always great to me. I gave him a 'bye' on accompanying me to the radiologist; I'm sure it takes him back to his own experience as a patient, and we know the drill. He just vacuumed for me, and has been regularly rebooting the dishes or the laundry or whatever needs doing. I try to cook casseroles, soups, and such on the weekends, so he has choices for meals during the week. He's learning all about the joys of arthritis, so if you have any recommendations, pass them along.
And thanks for your support. On whatever level you've shown, it really feeds my soul. (Yes, I do actually HAVE a soul, LOL.)
My first week of radiation was exhausting, which I am accrediting to two things: (1) a head cold struck about Sunday before I started treatment on Monday, and (2) I didn't know what to expect or how I'd react, and I was really keyed up about it when I started. And I'll give honorable mention to the fact that I started my aromatase inhibitor (Femara) a week or so beforehand. Evidently one of the most common side effects is muscle aches!!! By Wednesday morning, I was aching and exhausted, and had a little meltdown because I wondered how I would manage 38 treatments when I felt this bad after only 2.
So I spent last week sleeping, getting to work, clock out for radiation, radiation, clock back in to work, lunch (and a little rest) at home, back to work, home again, sleep. Repeat. The cold is better after a lot of rest at home last weekend and a few hours at work to make up some time and try to get caught up a bit. And this week has been pretty much the same, except for the Breast Cancer Support Group meeting Tuesday evening, and mostly I've felt better the second week than the first.
Then it was Thursday morning. I had gotten up feeling pretty emotional anyway, but when my positioning was wrong and it took so long to get me situated, the tears just rolled down my cheeks. OK, fine, radiation over, we figured out what went wrong and how to prevent it in the future. But I just couldn't pull myself together. So I went home about lunchtime and stayed there, resting, recharging, revitalizing.
And Friday was a good day. I realized how lucky I am when I asked my new buddy-in-radiation how many visits HE had left. The reply? "I don't know." He started radiation the same day I did, and will find out Monday when he sees Dr. Perez-Tamayo how many visits he'll have total. Monday I'm going to introduce myself properly, as he's been a spot of sunshine in a waiting room that's been less than cozy a lot of times. And I'm going to make more of an effort to chat, as I realize my magazine is as much a shield of self-protection as it is self-entertainment, and the new chick (who's probably close to 90!) could probably use a radiation buddy as well.
I slept in this morning, and am taking my time getting going. These are all the things I'm told I'll NEED, but the truth is it's cold and windy and overcast outdoors, so who cares about getting dressed and out? I'm going to, though, because I want to go to work and give myself a false sense of being caught up. There's one folder of paperwork that needs my attention, and a day of route slips that need posting. And I'm going to spend some quality time cardmaking; it rebuilds me on an altogether different level.
Funny, I just realized how little I've talked about Al throughout this process. But you all know he's always great to me. I gave him a 'bye' on accompanying me to the radiologist; I'm sure it takes him back to his own experience as a patient, and we know the drill. He just vacuumed for me, and has been regularly rebooting the dishes or the laundry or whatever needs doing. I try to cook casseroles, soups, and such on the weekends, so he has choices for meals during the week. He's learning all about the joys of arthritis, so if you have any recommendations, pass them along.
And thanks for your support. On whatever level you've shown, it really feeds my soul. (Yes, I do actually HAVE a soul, LOL.)
Thursday, November 13, 2008
OK, about Halloween
Our office commonly costumes up for Halloween. But since October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I took it upon myself to issue a challenge in our company newsletter for my co-workers to consider 'going pink' for Halloween this year. And I promised them I would post photos on my blog and bring the winner their choice of oatmeal raisin or chocolate chip cookies.
Unfortunately, I haven't had the energy to post all the photos, but I want to upload what I have so far. And I think I've got three winners to announce. These people really rose to the challenge. One of the ladies at Comcare Santa Fe e-mailed me to come check out one woman who really went 'above and beyond'. Imagine my surprise when I discovered it was my niece(in-law), Cara Beck. My favorite feature was her feathery tiara, which you can barely see against that wig. I feel she takes the prize for "Most Square Inches of Pink".
Next up are some of the ladies at Comcare Elm. I think Ann and Pam come in close on the square inches award; Cara squeaks by due to one word: LAYERING. I'm going to have to find out what Ann has in her hair here.
But the true winner at Elm is definitely Lesli. Let's hope she'll share the cookies with the other ladies!!! That t-shirt is a special edition from Kansas State University--Salina. 
We tried to take a single photo of the entire group at SPT Santa Fe (where I work) because everyone was wearing pink. Except Nikki was off Friday, so she wore pink on Thursday but wouldn't let me take a picture! But we never managed to get everybody together for one shot, so I'm making pix from the mini movies we shot, and need to PhotoShop a couple of people into the group. I hope to add that here over the weekend. Here's a couple to hold you over til then, as I promised Jennifer I'd post this one:
and I can't leave out Dave:
I can't tell you how encouraging it was to see and hear about
all these people in pink, just for 'the cause'.
If I'm missing photos, send them along and I'll add them here.
Next up are some of the ladies at Comcare Elm. I think Ann and Pam come in close on the square inches award; Cara squeaks by due to one word: LAYERING. I'm going to have to find out what Ann has in her hair here.Margaret (left) and Cindy got in the spirit of the thing.
I believe Margaret was the best accessorized, including this cute little cutie.
Mary Klaus gents an Honorable Mention. She came as a Punk Rocker, but check out those pink eyelashes and lipstick!!!
But the true winner at Elm is definitely Lesli. Let's hope she'll share the cookies with the other ladies!!! That t-shirt is a special edition from Kansas State University--Salina. We tried to take a single photo of the entire group at SPT Santa Fe (where I work) because everyone was wearing pink. Except Nikki was off Friday, so she wore pink on Thursday but wouldn't let me take a picture! But we never managed to get everybody together for one shot, so I'm making pix from the mini movies we shot, and need to PhotoShop a couple of people into the group. I hope to add that here over the weekend. Here's a couple to hold you over til then, as I promised Jennifer I'd post this one:and I can't leave out Dave:
What can I tell ya? We work hard, and we like to play hard. I think they've earned both varieties at my office!!!
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Let me tell you about Halloween
CBS just pronounced Obama as the winner, so I'm off to bed. I'll tell you about Halloween tomorrow.
Co-workers, thank you very much, and keep watching this space for updates and photos!!!
Co-workers, thank you very much, and keep watching this space for updates and photos!!!
2 Down, 36 To Go
Well, radiation ain't all that bad. So far. I clock out at the office, go next door, enter a dressing room, strip from the waist up, don a 'half gown', lock my stuff in a locker, and make myself comfy in the waiting room with a group of other patients (who are much closer to my parents' age than my own and, frankly, nosy).
The tech comes to fetch me, we walk around to the South radiation room, I lay down on the table, chin to the upper left, right arm up above my head with my forearm lying in a support cradle . The techs get me all squared away on the table, tell me not to move (breathing is allowed!), dim the lights, turn up the tunes, and we get going. Yesterday, they were playing SPONGEBOB of all things, so today I brought in a copy of my Emerson, Lake & Palmer 'Brain Salad Surgery' CD. (It was the only thing I could think of right off that wouldn't have me head bopping or toe tapping!)
The machine rolls over to the left, the little levers adjust, and it zaps me. I know it's zapping only by the noise it makes and a red light over on the wall that lights up when radiation is happening. The little levers adjust again, and it zaps me again. Then it rolls to the right, zaps me twice more, and we're done.
It's truly like getting an x-ray. In an awkward position. Today they told me I could take the two strips of clear tape off my sides (they were itchy) that have been covering my tattoos. Well, I thought they were tattoos until I pulled one off!!! We'll see how it goes tomorrow without the tapes, LOL!
I didn't expect to feel any differently for at least a couple of weeks, but I was exhausted when I got home yesterday. Could have a lot to do with the emotional tension I'd built up falling away after my first treatment. Could be all those freaking checks I needed to post yesterday afternoon, and actually working past 5 pm to get the daily work done. But I felt the same way today when I finished, and my arms feel puffy -- like I'm premenstrual or something. I'll keep a close eye on that, as they're zapping the lymph nodes over my breast bone as well as in my underarm, and I don't want to have issues with lymphedema. My upper body feels like a rubber band with no elastic left.
I'm going with the idea right now that my symptoms are psychosomatic. But I'm working on being the perfect patient. I've already learned regular meals and snacks really help my energy level, so no skipping lunches or my newly beloved granola bars. Wonderful, wonderful Al has been off work yesterday and today, and he grilled lunch BOTH days and had it waiting for me, so all I had to do was come home, eat and relax.
But I'm not going to bed until they officially announce the new President. Or maybe I'll go to bed and not go to SLEEP until then. Or maybe I'll just go to bed and have sweet dreams because I believe we'll wake up with President-Elect Obama and wait for it to be confirmed in the morning.
The tech comes to fetch me, we walk around to the South radiation room, I lay down on the table, chin to the upper left, right arm up above my head with my forearm lying in a support cradle . The techs get me all squared away on the table, tell me not to move (breathing is allowed!), dim the lights, turn up the tunes, and we get going. Yesterday, they were playing SPONGEBOB of all things, so today I brought in a copy of my Emerson, Lake & Palmer 'Brain Salad Surgery' CD. (It was the only thing I could think of right off that wouldn't have me head bopping or toe tapping!)
The machine rolls over to the left, the little levers adjust, and it zaps me. I know it's zapping only by the noise it makes and a red light over on the wall that lights up when radiation is happening. The little levers adjust again, and it zaps me again. Then it rolls to the right, zaps me twice more, and we're done.
It's truly like getting an x-ray. In an awkward position. Today they told me I could take the two strips of clear tape off my sides (they were itchy) that have been covering my tattoos. Well, I thought they were tattoos until I pulled one off!!! We'll see how it goes tomorrow without the tapes, LOL!
I didn't expect to feel any differently for at least a couple of weeks, but I was exhausted when I got home yesterday. Could have a lot to do with the emotional tension I'd built up falling away after my first treatment. Could be all those freaking checks I needed to post yesterday afternoon, and actually working past 5 pm to get the daily work done. But I felt the same way today when I finished, and my arms feel puffy -- like I'm premenstrual or something. I'll keep a close eye on that, as they're zapping the lymph nodes over my breast bone as well as in my underarm, and I don't want to have issues with lymphedema. My upper body feels like a rubber band with no elastic left.
I'm going with the idea right now that my symptoms are psychosomatic. But I'm working on being the perfect patient. I've already learned regular meals and snacks really help my energy level, so no skipping lunches or my newly beloved granola bars. Wonderful, wonderful Al has been off work yesterday and today, and he grilled lunch BOTH days and had it waiting for me, so all I had to do was come home, eat and relax.
But I'm not going to bed until they officially announce the new President. Or maybe I'll go to bed and not go to SLEEP until then. Or maybe I'll just go to bed and have sweet dreams because I believe we'll wake up with President-Elect Obama and wait for it to be confirmed in the morning.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
More time at the Cancer Center
After all the scanning and markings last week, I figured I was prepared for today's activities. New room, same pose (chin up and to the left, exposed chest, right arm up in a 'guide' to hold it above my head) on a hard metal table with all new machines -- for about 40 minutes. Both my shoulders were cramping so much by the time we were finished, I figured they'd fall off!!!
The purpose of today's visit was to complete the calibrations for radiation. I have two more new tattoos about 3" below the others along my sides. I've now fully examined every screw, fixture and finish on that freaking machine. My visualizations weren't working AT all, so I was just screwed. Fortunately, I didn't have to pee!!!
Anywho, they assure me that radiation will only last about 15 minutes, so I'll just be reminding myself of what FLYLady says "I can do anything for 15 minutes!" Hope it helps.
I start on Monday. Hopefully by then, the worst of this cold will be behind me. Al was sweet to share, but I really coulda done without this one, LOL!!!
xoxoxo
Sharon
The purpose of today's visit was to complete the calibrations for radiation. I have two more new tattoos about 3" below the others along my sides. I've now fully examined every screw, fixture and finish on that freaking machine. My visualizations weren't working AT all, so I was just screwed. Fortunately, I didn't have to pee!!!
Anywho, they assure me that radiation will only last about 15 minutes, so I'll just be reminding myself of what FLYLady says "I can do anything for 15 minutes!" Hope it helps.
I start on Monday. Hopefully by then, the worst of this cold will be behind me. Al was sweet to share, but I really coulda done without this one, LOL!!!
xoxoxo
Sharon
Sunday, October 26, 2008
In Search of the Perfect Treatment Bra
I really love the bra style I've been wearing for the past few years. It's mostly cotton, fits well, is readily available fairly cheap at the Marts, and the cup fabric is thick enough for modesty, even in the coldest environment. However, it didn't pass inspection due to the exposed elastic band that runs the full circumference of my body. I'd planned to use my camisoles from surgery, but find the seam at the base of the cup to be rather uncomfortable when I'm vertical all day, so that's not an option.
I promised myself if I didn't need chemo I'd order some new slacks from Lane Bryant, so I checked out their sports bra selection, and added a couple of styles to my order. I'm hoping one or both of them will pass inspection.
Meanwhile, I stopped into Wal-Mart today to see what's available there. I found a fabulous one, but it only goes up to a 40 and I need a 46 or 48. The one style I that I tried on had a front closure, and the hooks and eyes weren't covered well, so they'd really rub against my skin. And the fabric was very lightweight -- no modesty happening there.
But after examining the fit, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Now that the swelling has subsided, my breasts are probably a full cup size different. I've known it's changed and I know it will continue to evolve in shape and texture during radiation, but it was really shocking to see the difference so clearly today in that bra. {NOT really evident in my regular bra!}
So it looks like I'll need to stash my cotton knit shirts -- which are pretty much EVERYTHING I own -- in favor of woven fabrics. Or maybe I'll bring back my vests and jackets as camouflage. Fortunately, the weather is cooling off so it shouldn't be too miserable. And my search will continue.
I promised myself if I didn't need chemo I'd order some new slacks from Lane Bryant, so I checked out their sports bra selection, and added a couple of styles to my order. I'm hoping one or both of them will pass inspection.
Meanwhile, I stopped into Wal-Mart today to see what's available there. I found a fabulous one, but it only goes up to a 40 and I need a 46 or 48. The one style I that I tried on had a front closure, and the hooks and eyes weren't covered well, so they'd really rub against my skin. And the fabric was very lightweight -- no modesty happening there.
But after examining the fit, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Now that the swelling has subsided, my breasts are probably a full cup size different. I've known it's changed and I know it will continue to evolve in shape and texture during radiation, but it was really shocking to see the difference so clearly today in that bra. {NOT really evident in my regular bra!}
So it looks like I'll need to stash my cotton knit shirts -- which are pretty much EVERYTHING I own -- in favor of woven fabrics. Or maybe I'll bring back my vests and jackets as camouflage. Fortunately, the weather is cooling off so it shouldn't be too miserable. And my search will continue.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
And on to Radiology
My first appointment with my Radiation Oncologist, Dr. Claudia Perez-Tamayo, was Wednesday. I gave Al a 'bye' on this visit because (a) he wasn't terribly fond of her when HE was her patient, (b) I knew it wasn't going to be a short and sweet appointment, and (c) he doesn't need to take any more time off work than necessary, and it just wasn't necessary. In the big scheme of things, my history with Al's cancer has certainly served me well; I know a bit more than your average patient what to expect along the way. And Pam's coaching hasn't hurt either!
The angel on my shoulder and I were ushered into the conference room 25 minutes after my appointment time (hurry up and wait some more!), where a lovely nurse named Carrie reviewed my 5-page self-completed history form. Then she fetched the doctor for a lovely, lengthy chat. I found her much more enjoyable than when Al saw her 3 years ago. We even discussed Nordie's at Noon and agreed it was odd that none of the four authors mentioned radiation as part of their initial treatment. She also found the book disturbing, though on different levels than I have, but it made me feel better all the same.
I love her analogy of why I need radiation after we've already removed the cancerous tumor. I'm not sure if she uses this for everybody or personalized it because I'm a gardener, but I liked it anyway. She said to liken breast cancer to Bindweed -- you can remove it from the garden by pulling it out of the ground (i.e., lumpectomy), and even digging out all the roots you can find (i.e., getting clean margins in surgery), but you have no idea where the Bindweed has reseeded itself. It's logical that those 'seeds' would be in the nearby area, so radiation is the Preen (pre-emergent that keeps seeds from sprouting into new Bindweed plants) that kills off the seeds of cancer so they don't grow somewhere else.
Understandably, the most common area for spread is to the lymph nodes, which would normally branch out from the breast and into the underarm and beyond, but we'll be irradiating the area from the lymph nodes along the breastbone across the chest to the underarm. The second most likely area for breast cancer to spread is the muscle wall of the chest and into the lungs.
Next stop was an exam room where she gave me a rather thorough examination and expressed concern that the antibiotics Ferg gave me weren't strong enough, so we're going to watch that closely. {Note: the infection has cleared up thoroughly and my incision and breast tissue have returned to a normal, healthy color.} She marked me in various areas with a turquoise Sharpie pen. Then she asked me something that surprised me a bit: "How happy are you with the results of your surgery?" I haven't really examined why she'd ask that until now . . . and I'm supposing it was to get a feel for how I was feeling about how it looks, my perspective on my treatment to date, or maybe testing my confidence in my surgeon, I dunno.
She said there's nothing to be done about the hematoma except the passage of time. Taking action for them most commonly leads to more infection and complications, so we'll be leaving it alone. {Note: it's decreasing on its own.} Then came the fun point of our conversation: I can't wear my bra while I'm having treatment. This was no surprise since Pam warned me about it, and my bra almost passed, except that it has exposed elastic around the base. So she recommended a sports bra -- and even showed me hers; that was unexpected!
Next stop took me around the corner for a CT scan. This was the trying, laborious part of the visit because it featured me lying on a freaking hard table nekkid from the waist up in a very cold room, with my (rather prominent) chin pointed up and toward the left, my right arm draped over an elevated guide above my head, and my left hand looking for something to hold onto so I would fit into the opening of the donut that is the CT machine. For an hour or so. After Bev had put little metal markers on all of the doctor's Sharpie marks. While Bev and Tiff looked at the CT, adjusted my position, marked me up with different colored Sharpies, looked at the CT, adjusted my position, repeat.
The finale, of course, was three pin pricks into my skin to tattoo me with India Ink in order to guide the cross hairs for my actual radiation. Unfortunately, she covered each of them (one between my breasts, and one on each of my sides) with a little strip of clear tape which has been extremely annoying but I'm not allowed to remove. Guess I failed to remind them of my sensitivity, no doubt inherited from my dad, to adhesives. My appointment was scheduled for 8 am, and I got to work (literally next door) about 11:30.
Tiff and Dr. Perez-Tamayo will use the data from the CT study to develop my treatment strategy. I return for my 'simulation' on Wednesday, the 29th. As I understand it, this is where they will complete the calibrations for the actual radiation, and I'll start my radiation treatments on either Thursday (I hope) or the following Monday (hurry up and wait some more). I'll have a total of 38 radiation treatments; so if everything goes as scheduled I'll be finished right around Christmas. I promised Al last year that I'd really get into the Holiday season this year, go all out decorating, baking, etc. We'll see.
The angel on my shoulder and I were ushered into the conference room 25 minutes after my appointment time (hurry up and wait some more!), where a lovely nurse named Carrie reviewed my 5-page self-completed history form. Then she fetched the doctor for a lovely, lengthy chat. I found her much more enjoyable than when Al saw her 3 years ago. We even discussed Nordie's at Noon and agreed it was odd that none of the four authors mentioned radiation as part of their initial treatment. She also found the book disturbing, though on different levels than I have, but it made me feel better all the same.
I love her analogy of why I need radiation after we've already removed the cancerous tumor. I'm not sure if she uses this for everybody or personalized it because I'm a gardener, but I liked it anyway. She said to liken breast cancer to Bindweed -- you can remove it from the garden by pulling it out of the ground (i.e., lumpectomy), and even digging out all the roots you can find (i.e., getting clean margins in surgery), but you have no idea where the Bindweed has reseeded itself. It's logical that those 'seeds' would be in the nearby area, so radiation is the Preen (pre-emergent that keeps seeds from sprouting into new Bindweed plants) that kills off the seeds of cancer so they don't grow somewhere else.
Understandably, the most common area for spread is to the lymph nodes, which would normally branch out from the breast and into the underarm and beyond, but we'll be irradiating the area from the lymph nodes along the breastbone across the chest to the underarm. The second most likely area for breast cancer to spread is the muscle wall of the chest and into the lungs.
Next stop was an exam room where she gave me a rather thorough examination and expressed concern that the antibiotics Ferg gave me weren't strong enough, so we're going to watch that closely. {Note: the infection has cleared up thoroughly and my incision and breast tissue have returned to a normal, healthy color.} She marked me in various areas with a turquoise Sharpie pen. Then she asked me something that surprised me a bit: "How happy are you with the results of your surgery?" I haven't really examined why she'd ask that until now . . . and I'm supposing it was to get a feel for how I was feeling about how it looks, my perspective on my treatment to date, or maybe testing my confidence in my surgeon, I dunno.
She said there's nothing to be done about the hematoma except the passage of time. Taking action for them most commonly leads to more infection and complications, so we'll be leaving it alone. {Note: it's decreasing on its own.} Then came the fun point of our conversation: I can't wear my bra while I'm having treatment. This was no surprise since Pam warned me about it, and my bra almost passed, except that it has exposed elastic around the base. So she recommended a sports bra -- and even showed me hers; that was unexpected!
Next stop took me around the corner for a CT scan. This was the trying, laborious part of the visit because it featured me lying on a freaking hard table nekkid from the waist up in a very cold room, with my (rather prominent) chin pointed up and toward the left, my right arm draped over an elevated guide above my head, and my left hand looking for something to hold onto so I would fit into the opening of the donut that is the CT machine. For an hour or so. After Bev had put little metal markers on all of the doctor's Sharpie marks. While Bev and Tiff looked at the CT, adjusted my position, marked me up with different colored Sharpies, looked at the CT, adjusted my position, repeat.
The finale, of course, was three pin pricks into my skin to tattoo me with India Ink in order to guide the cross hairs for my actual radiation. Unfortunately, she covered each of them (one between my breasts, and one on each of my sides) with a little strip of clear tape which has been extremely annoying but I'm not allowed to remove. Guess I failed to remind them of my sensitivity, no doubt inherited from my dad, to adhesives. My appointment was scheduled for 8 am, and I got to work (literally next door) about 11:30.
Tiff and Dr. Perez-Tamayo will use the data from the CT study to develop my treatment strategy. I return for my 'simulation' on Wednesday, the 29th. As I understand it, this is where they will complete the calibrations for the actual radiation, and I'll start my radiation treatments on either Thursday (I hope) or the following Monday (hurry up and wait some more). I'll have a total of 38 radiation treatments; so if everything goes as scheduled I'll be finished right around Christmas. I promised Al last year that I'd really get into the Holiday season this year, go all out decorating, baking, etc. We'll see.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Worth the wait
THIS time!!! I heard from my oncologist's office today; they had the results of the Oncotype Dx test. My score is only 11, which indicates I don't need chemo. Join me in saying
I don't know why it's not dancing, like it does here.
The test is a scale of 0 to 100, with 0 being the best. I go back to see the oncologist tomorrow, and I'm scheduled to see the radiation oncologist on Wednesday morning.
FINALLY, we can get this treatment moving along.
My infection appears to be improving. I'm off to apply a little moist heat, read a bit and hit the sack. Seems I've finally relaxed a bit, and I'm ready to pass out!!!
xoxoxo
Sharon
Friday, October 17, 2008
I've been crying a lot this week . . .
because of a book I picked up. It's called Nordies at Noon, and tells the saga of four women under age 30 in the Kansas City area who were diagnosed with breast cancer around 2002. One of them, Kim Carlson, spoke at Salina's Breast Cancer Awareness Forum this past Monday evening, a nice event that featured booths from several agencies and providers, door prizes, and the speaker followed by a Q&A session.
I don't particularly relate to any specific author in the book, and I haven't figured out why, but every time I spend some time reading this book, I cry. I suppose it's because I should cry about having breast cancer, and I have, and I occasionally do -- usually at the most inopportune times, of course. But what's the point? It accomplishes nothing! But I've decided to just give in and go with it. Seems to help bring the stress level down a bit, so maybe that's the point of crying.
Fact of the matter is, I don't feel any different than I did six months ago. Til I take my clothes off or stretch my arm a specific direction and there's my reminders, lol!
So, I had an appointment with Ferg (my PCP) today for my annual check-up. Not much change there than in previous physicals, just skip the Pap smear. She's so great; I'm really fortunate to have her in my corner. The two big points of the appointment were (1) she agreed with me that my incision looks too red to not be hosting some infection (so I'm now on some pricey antibiotics), and (2) I have a month to schedule a colonoscopy or I'll be hearing from her again. I think this is unfair, as I'm not 50 yet!!! But considering our family history of colon cancer, I'm not going to complain. I figure if I need to have a port installed, I'll schedule both procedures for the same day and kill two birds with one stone. If I don't need a port, I'll just do my I-don't-need-the-chemo conga all the way down to the hospital and just get the scope over with already.
Oh, yeah, one other thing now that I think about it. The lab that's doing my oncotyping called me after they checked with my insurance for the test (yes, it's covered). But she gave me a toll-free number to call to check the status of the lab work. So I called. Waiting is hard for me. But they didn't receive the sample until the 10th, and the labs take 10-14 calendar days, so I may not have my answer until the end of next week. Hurry up and wait some more.
I'm off to fetch my jammies and my book, and get to bed early. After I finish reading, I lie in bed planning the new flower bed Al's prepped out back. So far, it's been orange and purple, shades of yellow, bright reds with chartreuse, and PAINK (that's Southern-speak for seriously pink; I learned the term on-line). Hmmm, wonder how many variations of pink I could come up with . . . maybe I'll work at naming them as I'm falling asleep tonight.
I couldn't get to sleep last night for whatever reason, so I plan to make up for it in a big way tonight. And bonus . . . no alarm in the morning. WOO-HOO!!!
xoxoxo
Sharon
I don't particularly relate to any specific author in the book, and I haven't figured out why, but every time I spend some time reading this book, I cry. I suppose it's because I should cry about having breast cancer, and I have, and I occasionally do -- usually at the most inopportune times, of course. But what's the point? It accomplishes nothing! But I've decided to just give in and go with it. Seems to help bring the stress level down a bit, so maybe that's the point of crying.
Fact of the matter is, I don't feel any different than I did six months ago. Til I take my clothes off or stretch my arm a specific direction and there's my reminders, lol!
So, I had an appointment with Ferg (my PCP) today for my annual check-up. Not much change there than in previous physicals, just skip the Pap smear. She's so great; I'm really fortunate to have her in my corner. The two big points of the appointment were (1) she agreed with me that my incision looks too red to not be hosting some infection (so I'm now on some pricey antibiotics), and (2) I have a month to schedule a colonoscopy or I'll be hearing from her again. I think this is unfair, as I'm not 50 yet!!! But considering our family history of colon cancer, I'm not going to complain. I figure if I need to have a port installed, I'll schedule both procedures for the same day and kill two birds with one stone. If I don't need a port, I'll just do my I-don't-need-the-chemo conga all the way down to the hospital and just get the scope over with already.
Oh, yeah, one other thing now that I think about it. The lab that's doing my oncotyping called me after they checked with my insurance for the test (yes, it's covered). But she gave me a toll-free number to call to check the status of the lab work. So I called. Waiting is hard for me. But they didn't receive the sample until the 10th, and the labs take 10-14 calendar days, so I may not have my answer until the end of next week. Hurry up and wait some more.
I'm off to fetch my jammies and my book, and get to bed early. After I finish reading, I lie in bed planning the new flower bed Al's prepped out back. So far, it's been orange and purple, shades of yellow, bright reds with chartreuse, and PAINK (that's Southern-speak for seriously pink; I learned the term on-line). Hmmm, wonder how many variations of pink I could come up with . . . maybe I'll work at naming them as I'm falling asleep tonight.
I couldn't get to sleep last night for whatever reason, so I plan to make up for it in a big way tonight. And bonus . . . no alarm in the morning. WOO-HOO!!!
xoxoxo
Sharon
Monday, October 06, 2008
Hurry up . . . and Wait
Al & I met with my oncologist -- William Cathcart-Rake -- for the first time today. I liked him immediately, which always helps. He did a rather thorough exam and consultation, then proceeded to draw me three pages of pictures to tell me all the things I already knew. But I think it helped him summarize my status to himself, and made some of the details a little clearer for Al (like Hormone Receptors and HER2).
He confirmed everything else I've learned about the treatment process -- potentially chemotherapy, then radiation, and in my case, definitely hormone therapy (which is usually part of the process) for FIVE years. Considering that my tumor was very small, my hormone receptors are very high, my HER2 is negative, my margins are clean, there's no cancer in the lymph nodes, and the BRCA was negative, he feels chemo won't be needed, to the tune of 90% certain.
Then he got all excited to surprise me with this test that's only been available for about a year, which is the Oncotyping I mentioned in an earlier post. So he wants to do the oncotyping because we can find out what my potential for recurrence would be, and then we'll know for sure whether chemo is necessary. Cut to the chase, we're going forward with the Oncotyping, which will take somewhere between 1-2 weeks, so if I haven't heard from them in two weeks, I'm to call them. So he basically told me exactly what I wanted to hear.
If I do need chemo, he recommends installing an Infuse-A-Port like Al had (especially since we always have so much fun locating a useful vein when I need an IV). Then I'll have a 'short course' of chemo, which would be four treatments spaced three weeks apart.
Either way, I'll get going with the hormone therapy soon; for pre-menopausal women, that would translate to Tamoxifen. For post-menopausal women, there are three 'aromatase inhibitors' (Arimidex, Femera or Aromasin). This is not the old Hormone Replacement Therapy they used to do for women after menopause or hysterectomy. This type of hormone therapy provides a drug to fill those hormone receptors, so that any remaining cancer cells cannot grow (remember, cancer cells feed on hormones to survive).
Good news is that it's just an oral medication; bad news is that I don't have prescription drug coverage and it runs about $300/month. Fortunately, he's also confident that they can get the drug company to provide it to me. (whew!)
And he gave me a DVD to watch that I believe features him and was created by the Femera people that's all about breast cancer. Haven't watched it yet; I told him I'd been doing a lot of reading at the NIC website, and he encouraged that but still encouraged us to watch the DVD.
He assured me that I'm healing really well, complimented my surgeon for the incision on my breast -- he thinks I'll have to show people where the incision was once it's fully healed -- and reassured me that it's OK to still have some swelling. He felt that was caused by a collection of blood in the surgical site (a hematoma), and assured me it would smooth out under my skin as it healed (it's rather lumpy now).
So, all in all, it was a really good visit. And I've been catching up a bit on the sleep I missed out on last night. Now I'm off to the kitchen to make some Oatmeal Raisin (his favorite) cookies for DH, because he wants to take some to 'the guys'. It's only fair, as I made a triple batch of (my favorite) Chocolate Chip cookies for my office and the folks at the Cancer Center.
Keep watching this space, and thanks for all those calls, e-mails, cards and prayers!
xoxoxo
Sharon
He confirmed everything else I've learned about the treatment process -- potentially chemotherapy, then radiation, and in my case, definitely hormone therapy (which is usually part of the process) for FIVE years. Considering that my tumor was very small, my hormone receptors are very high, my HER2 is negative, my margins are clean, there's no cancer in the lymph nodes, and the BRCA was negative, he feels chemo won't be needed, to the tune of 90% certain.
Then he got all excited to surprise me with this test that's only been available for about a year, which is the Oncotyping I mentioned in an earlier post. So he wants to do the oncotyping because we can find out what my potential for recurrence would be, and then we'll know for sure whether chemo is necessary. Cut to the chase, we're going forward with the Oncotyping, which will take somewhere between 1-2 weeks, so if I haven't heard from them in two weeks, I'm to call them. So he basically told me exactly what I wanted to hear.
If I do need chemo, he recommends installing an Infuse-A-Port like Al had (especially since we always have so much fun locating a useful vein when I need an IV). Then I'll have a 'short course' of chemo, which would be four treatments spaced three weeks apart.
Either way, I'll get going with the hormone therapy soon; for pre-menopausal women, that would translate to Tamoxifen. For post-menopausal women, there are three 'aromatase inhibitors' (Arimidex, Femera or Aromasin). This is not the old Hormone Replacement Therapy they used to do for women after menopause or hysterectomy. This type of hormone therapy provides a drug to fill those hormone receptors, so that any remaining cancer cells cannot grow (remember, cancer cells feed on hormones to survive).
Good news is that it's just an oral medication; bad news is that I don't have prescription drug coverage and it runs about $300/month. Fortunately, he's also confident that they can get the drug company to provide it to me. (whew!)
And he gave me a DVD to watch that I believe features him and was created by the Femera people that's all about breast cancer. Haven't watched it yet; I told him I'd been doing a lot of reading at the NIC website, and he encouraged that but still encouraged us to watch the DVD.
He assured me that I'm healing really well, complimented my surgeon for the incision on my breast -- he thinks I'll have to show people where the incision was once it's fully healed -- and reassured me that it's OK to still have some swelling. He felt that was caused by a collection of blood in the surgical site (a hematoma), and assured me it would smooth out under my skin as it healed (it's rather lumpy now).
So, all in all, it was a really good visit. And I've been catching up a bit on the sleep I missed out on last night. Now I'm off to the kitchen to make some Oatmeal Raisin (his favorite) cookies for DH, because he wants to take some to 'the guys'. It's only fair, as I made a triple batch of (my favorite) Chocolate Chip cookies for my office and the folks at the Cancer Center.
Keep watching this space, and thanks for all those calls, e-mails, cards and prayers!
xoxoxo
Sharon
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Follow-up with Dr. Osland
What a week! I really must try to post more often.
Went back to work as scheduled on Wednesday. It was a busy day, and I was amazed at how well I felt and how much stamina I had to draw on. Took it easy Wednesday night and slept like a rock. Went in to the office Thursday morning, as my boss is out until Tuesday. Al's department is SO short-handed these days, he didn't take off to go with me, and though I had offers, I decided to go by myself.
Dr. Osland looked me over and answered my questions. Then she did something I never expected from a doctor -- she APOLOGIZED!!! At the time, my boob was still looking rather cock-eyed and puckered, and she apologized that it didn't look better. I love this woman!!! And her staff is so wonderful as well.
So, for the medical, non-gory details: the lump was actually only 1.0 x 1.0 x 0.8 cm (though I read in the path report they removed a 4.8 x 4.0 x 4.0 cm section; no wonder I'm bruised!), the remaining margins are clean (no cancer cells found in the 'section'), no cancer found in the lymph nodes, Estrogen receptors are 95% as are the Progesterone Receptors, the Proliferative Index is 7% (low is GOOD), and the HER2 Protein is Negative, a 1+ which means my cancer is not an aggressive type of cancer. Interpretation: It's all good. All the cancer that could be surgically removed is gone.
Next stop: medical oncologist, to determine whether I'll need chemotherapy. From what Dr. Beck drew me in our follow-up with him for Al in August, I shouldn't need any. Dr. Osland was great and gave me some good questions to ask him and told me if he's definitive one way or the other, I should really push him for a reason. The good news is that there's a lab test out there called Oncotyping where they test the tissue that's already been removed to see whether chemotherapy would be effective for me. {Just for the record here -- because I know you're asking yourself, too -- I did ask why not go ahead and do the oncotyping and make this decision a no-brainer. The response from both Dr. Osland and my oncologist's office was "that's not how it's done; you need to see the oncologist first".}
So I've made an appointment for October 6 with Dr. Cathcart-Rake at Tammy Walker Cancer Center, literally across the hall from Al's oncologist with other shared facilities. And you know me, the first thing I want to know is "why NOT do the oncotyping?". My logic is that they could do that NOW and the lab work (which takes 10 days to 2 weeks) would be there when I go to see him. But that's just not done. Hurry up and wait.
My only source of comfort about this timing is that Dr. Osland says I can't start any treatment til 4 weeks after my surgery anyway, because all that tissue needs to heal before we start bombarding it with chemo or radiation. And, yes, I already called the radiation oncologist's office to see how long a wait it would be to get in to see her! Probably same week service, but not until the medical oncologist 'excuses' me from chemo. To quote my dear husband, "Hurry up and wait"!!!
Once I'm finished with all my treatment, I'll have to take an aromatase inhibitor for 5 years. This will fill those hormone receptors in my cells to keep potential recurrent cancer cell growth at bay. This is an issue since I don't have Rx insurance coverage in my job, but I can probably get into a study that will provide the drugs free or at reduced cost since I'm considered young (ha!!!) to be post-menopausal (thanks to my hysterectomy/oophorectomy last fall). And we're looking into Al's insurance to see if I can enroll in Rx-only since I have better health insurance in my job. Then again, another option is job change, LOL.
Emotionally, I remain strong. For some reason, the tear switch has been turned on the past few days, but I dunno why. Perhaps it's disappointment at the potential of not needing this t-shirt. Or because I'm sad to have finished reading Fannie Flagg's book, Can't Wait to Get to Heaven. (Wonderful book, mom, and at just the right time; but read her Standing in the Rainbow first.) It helps that I've rather adopted breast cancer education as a personal mini-mission. I figure if I can get somebody doing BSEs or having a mammogram and save them from my experience, I'm paying it forward.
And now, dear readers, I'm off to whip out the car, pop off the tops, and fetch Al for lunch. Thanks so much for your e-mails, calls and cards; they always arrive at just the right time!!!
xoxoxo
Sharon
Went back to work as scheduled on Wednesday. It was a busy day, and I was amazed at how well I felt and how much stamina I had to draw on. Took it easy Wednesday night and slept like a rock. Went in to the office Thursday morning, as my boss is out until Tuesday. Al's department is SO short-handed these days, he didn't take off to go with me, and though I had offers, I decided to go by myself.
Dr. Osland looked me over and answered my questions. Then she did something I never expected from a doctor -- she APOLOGIZED!!! At the time, my boob was still looking rather cock-eyed and puckered, and she apologized that it didn't look better. I love this woman!!! And her staff is so wonderful as well.
So, for the medical, non-gory details: the lump was actually only 1.0 x 1.0 x 0.8 cm (though I read in the path report they removed a 4.8 x 4.0 x 4.0 cm section; no wonder I'm bruised!), the remaining margins are clean (no cancer cells found in the 'section'), no cancer found in the lymph nodes, Estrogen receptors are 95% as are the Progesterone Receptors, the Proliferative Index is 7% (low is GOOD), and the HER2 Protein is Negative, a 1+ which means my cancer is not an aggressive type of cancer. Interpretation: It's all good. All the cancer that could be surgically removed is gone.
Next stop: medical oncologist, to determine whether I'll need chemotherapy. From what Dr. Beck drew me in our follow-up with him for Al in August, I shouldn't need any. Dr. Osland was great and gave me some good questions to ask him and told me if he's definitive one way or the other, I should really push him for a reason. The good news is that there's a lab test out there called Oncotyping where they test the tissue that's already been removed to see whether chemotherapy would be effective for me. {Just for the record here -- because I know you're asking yourself, too -- I did ask why not go ahead and do the oncotyping and make this decision a no-brainer. The response from both Dr. Osland and my oncologist's office was "that's not how it's done; you need to see the oncologist first".}
So I've made an appointment for October 6 with Dr. Cathcart-Rake at Tammy Walker Cancer Center, literally across the hall from Al's oncologist with other shared facilities. And you know me, the first thing I want to know is "why NOT do the oncotyping?". My logic is that they could do that NOW and the lab work (which takes 10 days to 2 weeks) would be there when I go to see him. But that's just not done. Hurry up and wait.
My only source of comfort about this timing is that Dr. Osland says I can't start any treatment til 4 weeks after my surgery anyway, because all that tissue needs to heal before we start bombarding it with chemo or radiation. And, yes, I already called the radiation oncologist's office to see how long a wait it would be to get in to see her! Probably same week service, but not until the medical oncologist 'excuses' me from chemo. To quote my dear husband, "Hurry up and wait"!!!
Once I'm finished with all my treatment, I'll have to take an aromatase inhibitor for 5 years. This will fill those hormone receptors in my cells to keep potential recurrent cancer cell growth at bay. This is an issue since I don't have Rx insurance coverage in my job, but I can probably get into a study that will provide the drugs free or at reduced cost since I'm considered young (ha!!!) to be post-menopausal (thanks to my hysterectomy/oophorectomy last fall). And we're looking into Al's insurance to see if I can enroll in Rx-only since I have better health insurance in my job. Then again, another option is job change, LOL.
Emotionally, I remain strong. For some reason, the tear switch has been turned on the past few days, but I dunno why. Perhaps it's disappointment at the potential of not needing this t-shirt. Or because I'm sad to have finished reading Fannie Flagg's book, Can't Wait to Get to Heaven. (Wonderful book, mom, and at just the right time; but read her Standing in the Rainbow first.) It helps that I've rather adopted breast cancer education as a personal mini-mission. I figure if I can get somebody doing BSEs or having a mammogram and save them from my experience, I'm paying it forward.
And now, dear readers, I'm off to whip out the car, pop off the tops, and fetch Al for lunch. Thanks so much for your e-mails, calls and cards; they always arrive at just the right time!!!
xoxoxo
Sharon
Monday, September 22, 2008
Monday, Monday
Well, I did get dressed on Saturday. Al and I even went out for breakfast. Pam & McKaylen came by to visit, and we went out to Hobby Lobby. Riding in the car was not a lot of fun, but it felt good to walk around the store. Al went off to work 1-10, and I slept most of the afternoon away.
Saturday night was restless and Sunday was pretty much sleep, sleep, sleep. I actually slept like a rock last night, so am hoping to be a bit more active today. The good news is that the swelling has finally receded, except over the specific spot where the lump was, and both incisions are looking really good. They itch and sting a bit, so we know they're healing.
I go back to work on Wednesday, and see the surgeon for follow-up on Thursday.
Poor Max doesn't know what to think. His favorite place to sleep is the middle of my chest, and I won't let him up there. He and Mikey have been quite the little nursemaids; they barely leave my side!!! One of the reasons I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom is that I can shut the door with them on the other side. I just don't need a cat jumping one me in the middle of the night!!!
Al is really facing some challenges at work these days. Their 'new' manager Josh finally started working in the department August 1, then Leonard was killed in a car wreck mid-August. Robert hurt his knee a couple of weeks ago, had surgery and will be off about 6 weeks. Now poor Lance took a couple of days off last week to work on his porch, and cut off a finger with his table saw!!! They managed to re-attach it, but he'll be out til at least the first of the month.
Far as I know, Danny's still in one piece, but he only works part-time. So Al and Josh are splitting the days trying to cover the department. You all know how Al doesn't like to let things go undone, so he's pushing himself trying to get everything taken care of, and he's just worn out, poor guy!!! He doesn't like to sleep in the waterbed without me, so he's been camping out in the basement.
Well, I'm off to get some breakfast, get dressed and get going. I'm sick of laying around, and though I know I won't be doing much of anything, I need to do SOMETHING.
xoxoxo
Sharon
Saturday night was restless and Sunday was pretty much sleep, sleep, sleep. I actually slept like a rock last night, so am hoping to be a bit more active today. The good news is that the swelling has finally receded, except over the specific spot where the lump was, and both incisions are looking really good. They itch and sting a bit, so we know they're healing.
I go back to work on Wednesday, and see the surgeon for follow-up on Thursday.
Poor Max doesn't know what to think. His favorite place to sleep is the middle of my chest, and I won't let him up there. He and Mikey have been quite the little nursemaids; they barely leave my side!!! One of the reasons I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom is that I can shut the door with them on the other side. I just don't need a cat jumping one me in the middle of the night!!!
Al is really facing some challenges at work these days. Their 'new' manager Josh finally started working in the department August 1, then Leonard was killed in a car wreck mid-August. Robert hurt his knee a couple of weeks ago, had surgery and will be off about 6 weeks. Now poor Lance took a couple of days off last week to work on his porch, and cut off a finger with his table saw!!! They managed to re-attach it, but he'll be out til at least the first of the month.
Far as I know, Danny's still in one piece, but he only works part-time. So Al and Josh are splitting the days trying to cover the department. You all know how Al doesn't like to let things go undone, so he's pushing himself trying to get everything taken care of, and he's just worn out, poor guy!!! He doesn't like to sleep in the waterbed without me, so he's been camping out in the basement.
Well, I'm off to get some breakfast, get dressed and get going. I'm sick of laying around, and though I know I won't be doing much of anything, I need to do SOMETHING.
xoxoxo
Sharon
Friday, September 19, 2008
Let's make that a slow CRAWL
Last night I was able to remove the bandaging, and just taking all that tape off made me more comfortable. But when I looked at my poor, misshaped boob I nearly threw up. My underarm and the right side of my boob are quite swollen, and evidently the tape held the rest (where the incision is, and where the tumor was) enough that it did not swell. So it had this horrible shape, and my nipple was very distorted looking. I don't think I'll ever forget how devastating that felt and how hideous it looked. I thought about a picture -- you know, to prepare somebody else -- but decided that was right up there with taking pix of a person in their casket (YUK!) so I didn't.
But I had a nice long, hot shower followed by a fresh camisole and nightgown and told myself it would look more natural once the swelling goes down.
I slept surprisingly well last night, but woke up this morning sore, swollen and miserable from about my breast bone to my elbow. I've done little to nothing all day -- which is what I'm supposed to be doing -- except suck down a few drugs, answer the phone, sleep, and tuck an ice pack hither and yon to try to reduce this swelling. Doesn't seem to be helping the swelling much, but my boob is taking on a more 'normal' appearance. And it sure is tender -- more like a really nasty bruise along the incision site.
I don't like how Percosette makes me feel, so I only took some first thing this morning, and have been taking Advil the rest of the day instead. After a couple of days taking Percosette, my skin starts crawling so I've added Benadryl to take away those itchies. Truly, I don't know how drug addicts stand it!!! Besides, I can't even focus enough to read when I take those drugs and a girl can only stand so much TV. Fortunately, I'd recorded a number of things on the DVR that have kept me entertained. And Bravo had a West Wing marathon today. LOL
So I figure tomorrow's going to get better, and the day after that, and the day after that. Maybe I'll even get dressed tomorrow.
xoxoxo
Sharon
But I had a nice long, hot shower followed by a fresh camisole and nightgown and told myself it would look more natural once the swelling goes down.
I slept surprisingly well last night, but woke up this morning sore, swollen and miserable from about my breast bone to my elbow. I've done little to nothing all day -- which is what I'm supposed to be doing -- except suck down a few drugs, answer the phone, sleep, and tuck an ice pack hither and yon to try to reduce this swelling. Doesn't seem to be helping the swelling much, but my boob is taking on a more 'normal' appearance. And it sure is tender -- more like a really nasty bruise along the incision site.
I don't like how Percosette makes me feel, so I only took some first thing this morning, and have been taking Advil the rest of the day instead. After a couple of days taking Percosette, my skin starts crawling so I've added Benadryl to take away those itchies. Truly, I don't know how drug addicts stand it!!! Besides, I can't even focus enough to read when I take those drugs and a girl can only stand so much TV. Fortunately, I'd recorded a number of things on the DVR that have kept me entertained. And Bravo had a West Wing marathon today. LOL
So I figure tomorrow's going to get better, and the day after that, and the day after that. Maybe I'll even get dressed tomorrow.
xoxoxo
Sharon
Thursday, September 18, 2008
A Walk in the Park
Surgery is behind me. The lump is gone along with a few lymph nodes. Best of all, no cancer was found in the preliminary tests in the lymph nodes. The lump and the excised lymph nodes will be sent to a lab for more detailed testing that will take about a week. So I'll have ALL the details when I go back to see Dr. Osland on the 26th.
If you want all the details, read on:
I must say, I have to recommend Cypress Imaging and Surgery Center. I started with imaging where they had the perfect mammogram machine -- a table you lie on face down with a large circular opening to slip your boob through (the hole has a divider so your 'untested' boob stays on the table!). They did a mammogram to locate the clip from my biopsy then brought out a small machine that 'shot' a needle with a fine wire right into the lump, guided by the mammogram machine. Next they removed the needle, and we went to the next room for a traditional stand-up mammogram to ensure the lead end of the wire was in the lump. Evidently this wire guides the surgeon right to the lump.
I looked like I had an antennae coming out of my boob. The technician laughed that I might channel a nearby radio station. I told her as long as it wasn't country music, that would be fine!!!
Next she folded the wire over and carefully sandwiched in in gauze. I got dressed, and she walked me over to the surgical center for the usual prep. Cleo came over to hang out with Al during the procedure -- thanks so much, Cleo!!! The anesthesiologist was not surprised to learn I get nauseous after surgery, so he put that anti-nausea stuff in my anesthesia, and put a great patch behind my ear that I can leave on for 3 days. Pain meds tend to make me nauseous as well, so that's a boost. Surgery was at 12:30, but Dr. Osland ran a bit late. Everybody from the anesthesiologist to the scrub nurse stopped by my bed to see whether I'd seen her!!!
She came and spoke to us, they wheeled me into the operating room and I moved to another table. Next thing I know, I'm in post-op with Al and Cleo, with FAR less discomfort that I had expected and WAY less bandaging -- I have a 4x4 on my boob and another under my arm. After a few crackers and a Diet Pepsi, I was able to get dressed and get out of there. And let me tell you, I am going to sing praises to the world about this camisole. It's supportive, it's comfortable, and you don't have to lift your arms to get into it -- you can just step in.
Cleo had invited us to stop by her house, so I enjoyed a granola bar (who ever thought I'd say that??? ENJOYED a granola bar!) en route, and settled into my favorite cushy armchair and ottoman at their house. Don grilled chicken, they made a lovely salad, and they fed my poor, starving husband. I wasn't ready for a meal yet. Cleo's left arm is wrapped from palm to above the elbow, as she injured it over the weekend in their flooding (which didn't make it into the house, thank goodness!) We had a lovely visit, and she showed me her latest pattern -- fuchsia with a hummingbird, GLORIOUS!!! -- refilled my ice bag and my cup, and we headed home around 8:30. No queasy stomach whatsoever, just this icky taste in my mouth from that patch -- which is an easy trade-off in my book.
I slept in the guest bedroom last night, so I could close the door to keep the cats out. And thanks to the orientation of our bathroom, I can use the vanity counter with my left arm to stand myself up. Oh, one more proclamation:
I will never again complain or tease my husband about putting in a taller toilet.
This morning, I'm feeling quite well (now that the drugs have kicked in), and will be concentrating the ice pack under my arm. It's very tender there. I can take my dressings off later this afternoon, but until then I will be taking it WAY easy. And there'll be a shower in the offing, which I am seriously looking forward to!!!
Thanks to everybody for the cards, calls and e-mails. Keep 'em coming, wouldya?!?
xoxoxo
Sharon
If you want all the details, read on:
I must say, I have to recommend Cypress Imaging and Surgery Center. I started with imaging where they had the perfect mammogram machine -- a table you lie on face down with a large circular opening to slip your boob through (the hole has a divider so your 'untested' boob stays on the table!). They did a mammogram to locate the clip from my biopsy then brought out a small machine that 'shot' a needle with a fine wire right into the lump, guided by the mammogram machine. Next they removed the needle, and we went to the next room for a traditional stand-up mammogram to ensure the lead end of the wire was in the lump. Evidently this wire guides the surgeon right to the lump.
I looked like I had an antennae coming out of my boob. The technician laughed that I might channel a nearby radio station. I told her as long as it wasn't country music, that would be fine!!!
Next she folded the wire over and carefully sandwiched in in gauze. I got dressed, and she walked me over to the surgical center for the usual prep. Cleo came over to hang out with Al during the procedure -- thanks so much, Cleo!!! The anesthesiologist was not surprised to learn I get nauseous after surgery, so he put that anti-nausea stuff in my anesthesia, and put a great patch behind my ear that I can leave on for 3 days. Pain meds tend to make me nauseous as well, so that's a boost. Surgery was at 12:30, but Dr. Osland ran a bit late. Everybody from the anesthesiologist to the scrub nurse stopped by my bed to see whether I'd seen her!!!
She came and spoke to us, they wheeled me into the operating room and I moved to another table. Next thing I know, I'm in post-op with Al and Cleo, with FAR less discomfort that I had expected and WAY less bandaging -- I have a 4x4 on my boob and another under my arm. After a few crackers and a Diet Pepsi, I was able to get dressed and get out of there. And let me tell you, I am going to sing praises to the world about this camisole. It's supportive, it's comfortable, and you don't have to lift your arms to get into it -- you can just step in.
Cleo had invited us to stop by her house, so I enjoyed a granola bar (who ever thought I'd say that??? ENJOYED a granola bar!) en route, and settled into my favorite cushy armchair and ottoman at their house. Don grilled chicken, they made a lovely salad, and they fed my poor, starving husband. I wasn't ready for a meal yet. Cleo's left arm is wrapped from palm to above the elbow, as she injured it over the weekend in their flooding (which didn't make it into the house, thank goodness!) We had a lovely visit, and she showed me her latest pattern -- fuchsia with a hummingbird, GLORIOUS!!! -- refilled my ice bag and my cup, and we headed home around 8:30. No queasy stomach whatsoever, just this icky taste in my mouth from that patch -- which is an easy trade-off in my book.
I slept in the guest bedroom last night, so I could close the door to keep the cats out. And thanks to the orientation of our bathroom, I can use the vanity counter with my left arm to stand myself up. Oh, one more proclamation:
I will never again complain or tease my husband about putting in a taller toilet.
This morning, I'm feeling quite well (now that the drugs have kicked in), and will be concentrating the ice pack under my arm. It's very tender there. I can take my dressings off later this afternoon, but until then I will be taking it WAY easy. And there'll be a shower in the offing, which I am seriously looking forward to!!!
Thanks to everybody for the cards, calls and e-mails. Keep 'em coming, wouldya?!?
xoxoxo
Sharon
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Support
I was given a card about the local Breast Cancer Support Group meeting last week, and there was some reason in my mind I wanted to go. (I tacked the card up at my cube at work.) I truly debated whether to go, thinking it could be depressing or annoying. But I decided to give it a whirl anyway.
So there were the presenter and the rep from the Cancer Center, and FOUR other ladies there. FOUR. Wazzup with that??? Three of them were closer to my mother's age (I think!) than mine, the most recent being 2 years out from surgery, and the other was 33 (I asked) and has been having chemo since LAST October to shrink her cancer so she can have surgery. You know I can't remember names, but she's going to stay close to my heart, and I hope I'll see her again.
I'm so glad I went. The thing I hadn't figured out yet was what to wear to the surgical center. They'd advised me to bring "an old, ratty, looser fitting bra" to wear home after surgery due to the bandaging. But I throw out old bras (though I'll admit I ran across a sports bra that would probably fit the bill; I just wouldn't be able to pull it on!), so I was a bit perplexed on this one. Pam said I should just go home without, but I felt some support would be a good thing, especially for a 90 mile drive home.
They featured a presentation from the local pharmacy that supplies DME. She brought a variety of items from the lines they carry in the store. And, who knew? She had the perfect camisole designed for post-surgery that provides support, and can be stepped into, so I wouldn't have to try to slip it over my head. It even has an attachable pouch for the drain bags if a drain is used. So guess where I'm going tomorrow!?!?! That's right, I'll be headed to B&K to pick up a camisole. Oh yeah, it's even covered by insurance!
The most shocking thing I learned from this meeting was that of the 'patients' in the room, I was the most knowledgable about implants, reconstruction, staging, hormone receptors, the whole nine yards. I referred them to the NCI website. They all wished me the best with surgery next week (FINALLY!), and said they hoped I'd come back. I believe I will.
So there were the presenter and the rep from the Cancer Center, and FOUR other ladies there. FOUR. Wazzup with that??? Three of them were closer to my mother's age (I think!) than mine, the most recent being 2 years out from surgery, and the other was 33 (I asked) and has been having chemo since LAST October to shrink her cancer so she can have surgery. You know I can't remember names, but she's going to stay close to my heart, and I hope I'll see her again.
I'm so glad I went. The thing I hadn't figured out yet was what to wear to the surgical center. They'd advised me to bring "an old, ratty, looser fitting bra" to wear home after surgery due to the bandaging. But I throw out old bras (though I'll admit I ran across a sports bra that would probably fit the bill; I just wouldn't be able to pull it on!), so I was a bit perplexed on this one. Pam said I should just go home without, but I felt some support would be a good thing, especially for a 90 mile drive home.
They featured a presentation from the local pharmacy that supplies DME. She brought a variety of items from the lines they carry in the store. And, who knew? She had the perfect camisole designed for post-surgery that provides support, and can be stepped into, so I wouldn't have to try to slip it over my head. It even has an attachable pouch for the drain bags if a drain is used. So guess where I'm going tomorrow!?!?! That's right, I'll be headed to B&K to pick up a camisole. Oh yeah, it's even covered by insurance!
The most shocking thing I learned from this meeting was that of the 'patients' in the room, I was the most knowledgable about implants, reconstruction, staging, hormone receptors, the whole nine yards. I referred them to the NCI website. They all wished me the best with surgery next week (FINALLY!), and said they hoped I'd come back. I believe I will.
Monday, August 18, 2008
We have a Plan!!!
I'm scheduled for a lumpectomy on Wednesday, September 17. The doctor said to plan to be off work a week. And I'll need some follow-up radiation for sure; she mentioned 35 treatments (5 days/week).
Whether I'll need chemo is dependent on the characteristics of the tumor, and whether (and how far!) the cancer has spread into my lymph nodes. Should have the detailed pathology report about a week after surgery.
I check in around 9 am, get injected with the dye for the Sentinel biopsy, then surgery is scheduled for 12:30. I'll be home to sleep in my own bed, WHOO-HOO!!!
xoxoxo
Sharon
Whether I'll need chemo is dependent on the characteristics of the tumor, and whether (and how far!) the cancer has spread into my lymph nodes. Should have the detailed pathology report about a week after surgery.
I check in around 9 am, get injected with the dye for the Sentinel biopsy, then surgery is scheduled for 12:30. I'll be home to sleep in my own bed, WHOO-HOO!!!
xoxoxo
Sharon
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