A Blogging Hiatus

A Blogging Hiatus

When I started this blog I had no real expectation other than to keep a few people updated on my health. I figured people who were interested, could check the blog and I wouldn’t have to shove my boring doctor’s visit stories into people faces via Facebook. I didn’t anticipate that I would really even have much to say. I soon realized that writing about my experience was therapeutic for me and it truly was a nice way to keep people informed. It also became a way for me to give a voice to breast cancer. I had known people who have been through cancer and treatments but I didn’t actually know what it involved and how incredibly scaring, overwhelming, and crazy it all is. People know the statistics but not always the everyday struggles that go along with those statistics. I was admittedly naïve and under informed about breast cancer before I got thrown into it.

I was shocked at how many people were reading the blog and even more shocked at how many people enjoyed reading it. It was a completely unexpected bonus to hear that my blog had inspired people. I could not be more pleasantly surprised with that outcome. Although I had not set out to do that, it makes me so happy to know that people have been moved by my words and my story. The blog has received over 40,000 pageviews!!! It has been viewed by people all around the world. I appreciate all the support and very kind words of encouragement. I am hoping that I will not have a lot more to say on the subject of cancer, so I will most likely be taking a blogging hiatus. No news is good news.

Signing off.

Looking on the Bright Side...Life is normal again!

 

We Did It!

We Did It!

Ten years ago I married the most amazing man and we celebrated by going to Jamaica for our honeymoon.  We left our all-inclusive Jamaican resort with dreams to go back some day, maybe our five year anniversary.  That never happened.  In fact, a vacation with just the two of us (or with the kids, for that matter) never happened.  Life got in the way as did a lack of vacation funds.  Then one day Jeff and I swore we would make it happen.  We were determined to take a trip together for our ten year anniversary.  Just the two of us.  We decided that no matter what, we would go.  We were just going to make it work, nothing would stop us.  We even pinky swore on it.  Yeah, we were serious.  So as our ten year anniversary approached, we still didn’t have much of a vacation fund and we were trying to have baby number 3, but we were sworn by pinkies.  However, we didn’t plan for cancer.  Now what?  So, as required by law, we had to follow through on our promise.  I’m pretty sure pinky swears are legally binding. That’s a fact.

We figured we would make good on our promise, assuming that I had permission from all my doctors.  I must have tried to talk myself out of it a hundred times.  I found myself thinking we don’t have the money for this, maybe I should wait until I have a clean bill of health for a little while, we can’t afford this, vacations cost money and we have none of that stuff, etc.  As the hospital bills piled up, it was like a smack in the face reminder that a vacation was just too expensive.  We were barely able to afford this vacation (after ten years of saving) before cancer came along and cramped our already un-extravagant and un-lavish lifestyle.  But I put all those practical voices to rest.  Never before have I felt so deserving of a vacation.  Had the donations to the 'For Angie' website not come in, we would not have even been able to consider this trip post cancer diagnosis.  The donation money paid for hospital bills and MasterCard paid for Jamaica:)

July 21^st – July 28^th  We did it!  I was just 8 days out from radiation.  I wasn’t even sure that I would be able to enjoy the sun or swimming in the pool, but I wanted to get as far away as I could from the cancer center.  I wanted one whole week to not think about cancer.  I wanted one whole week to forget about everything we had just been through and for my husband and me to just focus on each other.  It worked.  Finally, things seemed to work in our favor.  My skin peeled and healed right before the trip.  I was able to spend all day at the pool or beach, swimming, reading, resting, drinking, and eating.  At night, Jeff and I would get dressed up and enjoy dinner and the resorts nightly entertainment.  It was fabulous.   I am so glad that we went.  It was well worth it.  And think of all the money we saved by avoiding all potential legal fees from breaking a pinky swear promise. 

Looking on the Bright Side…for seven consecutive days I put all things related to cancer out of my mind, except for the one fellow vacationer who graciously offered me some sunscreen after pointing out the strange “sunburn” on my chest and underarm. 

 

 

This is what I did all day. 

 A vacation to remember.

 

a "Bob Marley"



Life After Cancer

Life After Cancer

It has been a long hard nine/ten months.  I have been through a lot, including

·  3 mammograms

·  2 ultrasounds

·  MRI, CAT, PET scans, EKG, echocardiogram, chest x-rays, FISH test, Oncotype DX test, genetic testing, bone scan, IHC test

·  8 surgeries (3 surgical biopsies, bilateral mastectomy, immediate reconstruction, lymph node dissection, insertion of port, breast implants) and at least 2 more in the near future

·    6 drains

·    20 weeks – 16 rounds of chemo

·    2 blood transfusions

·    6 weeks – 28 rounds of radiation

·   At least 40 CBC’s completed

·   Treatment induced menopause

But, life is returning to normal.  I don’t have to take my temperature every day, I have to shave my legs and underarms again, I wake up with bedhead, I’m allowed to wear regular deodorant again, scarves are worn only around my neck, I have energy to run around with my kids again.  A good day is no longer measured by being able to stay out of bed for more than a few hours at a time.

I did have to go to see my family doctor the other day for something unrelated to cancer and as I was driving in to the hospital parking garage, I immediately drove into the reserved cancer patient parking section.  I realized then that there might be one thing I miss about cancer…awesome parking.  I figured I had still earned the right to park there but I discreetly walked into the hospital ready to defend myself if someone was planning to bust me.  I still have my port and I can use that as my cancer patient parking ticket.  Who needs a paper parking id/ticket when you have a surgically inserted catheter as proof? 

As my doctor is looking me over and kindly reminding me that I am now at a greater risk for a stroke, blood clots, ovarian cancer, and uterine cancer he asks me how chemo is going?  Chemo?  I think to myself, this is so weird that three of my doctors now have asked me about chemo when I am already finished with chemo.  I kindly remind him that I am done with chemo and have been for some time.  Then he tells me something I wasn’t prepared to hear.  The drug that I am taking (I have been taking it for a couple months already and will be taking it for the next 10 years) is a chemo drug.  Hold up!  I did not know about this!  Now, I have already been taking the drug for a while and the side effects have not bothered me too much so I know it shouldn’t change how I feel about it.  But, come on!  I go home and tell my husband about this obviously ridiculous news and as I tell him, I cry.  I tearfully explain to him what my doctor said as I also google the information to make sure it is correct and there it is…Tamoxifen oral chemotherapy.  What the heck?  Jeff tries to reassure me that it’s okay and I sob through telling him that I hate the word chemo.  Turns out, any drug that is used for cancer is considered chemotherapy.  I don’t know if that makes it any better or not.  Why do doctors have to ask how chemo is going, couldn’t they just ask me how the drug prescribed for cancer prevention is going?

Looking on the Bright Side…I thought I would be getting my port removed this summer but my surgeon said I should keep it for a little while yet and we will discuss it again in 3-6 months.  I guess until then, I will have my cancer parking ID still with me.

Neurotic vs. Naive

Neurotic vs. Naïve

I know I have mentioned this issue before, but it is more prevalent now than ever.  I am feeling very conflicted.  Is there a lesser evil of being neurotic or naïve about wellbeing?

Is it better to worry and consider the worst for every unusual symptom only to be relieved when it turns out to be nothing or prepared if it turns out to be something, or is it better to be naïve and assume that any unusual symptoms are actually normal only to be blindsided and completely unprepared for the worst, but happily unaffected until then?  I don’t know.  I need to find a balance between the two, I know.  I just don’t want to find myself in the same situation I was in when I was diagnosed.  I don’t want to see that look again from doctors and medical staff when they know the outcome is bad but it is obvious that I am clueless.  I don’t want to be blindsided again.  I don’t want to feel overwhelmingly shocked about my health ever again.  I don’t want to be naïve, only to get knocked down with bad news. 

I also don’t want to be neurotic (or for those who know me well, I should say more neurotic than usual).  I don’t want to google every symptom I have because every single symptom, big or small, can somehow lead to a very unnecessary cancer self-diagnosis.  A broken toe? Bone cancer, of course.  Pain in my abdomen? It’s got to be stomach cancer, or uterine cancer, or ovarian cancer, or probably all three.  A headache?  Obviously a brain tumor, most likely terminal.  A bladder infection? Bladder cancer, duh!  Feeling well? Maybe I have an incredibly rare illness that presents no symptoms at all.  I am doomed…or not.  But this way when I go to the doctor with a symptom, I will already know what might be coming.  I will not be fooled again.  I don’t want to worry that much.  I could literally worry myself sick.  I don’t want to be that person.

I suppose as time goes on I may be less likely to find myself worrying over symptoms, or worrying that I am worried, or worried that I am not worrying.  Does that make sense?  Oh goodness, I’m not making any sense.  I better google it.  This sounds bad…or not.

Looking on the Bright Side…this week and next week I have my follow up appointments with my general doctor, plastic surgeon, oncologist, and radiation oncologist.  Wish me luck.  Hopefully it will relieve some of the worrying.

 

Cancer Free

Cancer Free

I am finished with radiation and finished with treatments.  This day seemed so far away for so long.  I never let myself get too excited for it just in case it didn’t happen.  Cancer doesn’t follow a predictable schedule or pattern if it doesn’t want to and I wanted to protect myself from epic disappointment if things went askew.  Now it’s finally here!  I can finally consider myself a cancer survivor.  I am carefully optimistic that I will get my life back.  Cancer changed my life considerably for a while and it took so much away from me.  I had to just watch and let it happen.  I am ready to take my life back.  I slowly feel more and more like the Angie I was before.  I have to hope that every follow up visit with all my doctors will confirm that the cancer is gone.  It is still difficult to grasp that I may be in the clear or that I may find myself back to the place I so desperately fought to leave.  I am cautious not to let myself be too fearful or too confident.  For now though, I will celebrate what I know.  I know that treatments are done.  I know that I am considered “cancer free”.  I know that no matter what happens I have my family and friends to help get me through it.  I know to be thankful for all that I have. 

Looking on the Bright Side…I am cancer free and ready to celebrate it! 

Burn, Baby, Burn

Burn, Baby, Burn

I am finished with radiation but radiation is not quite finished with me.  Unfortunately, the effects of radiation continue past the last treatment.  My skin went from feeling like a really bad sunburn to feeling more and more like a scalding burn.  To be honest, it hurts, a lot.  It is painful.  I can barely stand to have anything touching it.  Bras?  No thanks, I have been going without.  Thanks to my super perky and nipple-less breasts it isn’t completely inappropriate to be in public braless.   However, it is inappropriate to be in public shirtless and since it hurts to have anything up against my skin, it is problematic.  I prefer to have nothing on for now.  I moisturize the burnt area like it’s my job.  My skin is peeling, but the new skin under it looks “really nice” according to the (truly wonderful) medical staff who burn skin for a living.  I have gotten so many weird compliments since all this started

·         I have a nicely shaped bald head, apparently

·         My hair regrowth comes in nice and even, apparently

·         I have amazing range of motion on my right arm since the node removal surgery and after very thorough measurements my right and left arms are nearly identical size (not swollen from lymphedema), apparently

·         I do a nice job of applying eyebrows symmetrically, except that one time

I mean it’s not every day that someone compliments how proportionately equal your arms are.  Other than the painfully burnt skin and limitations on being in public naked from the waist up I am doing well.  Soon, I will be out and about, without the risk of an indecent exposure arrest, enjoying life again. 

Looking on the Bright Side…being done with radiation means my skin can finally heal!  No more going back in to burn my already burnt boobie.  

 

Burnt and Crispy

Burnt and Crispy

Radiation continues and I’m tiring of the daily visits to the cancer center.  My skin went from pink and irritated to red and sensitive, to red, slightly blistery, brown, leathery, and sore.  Every visit brings a little bit more pain.  The area right below my under arm is the most burnt and sensitive.  It literally looks and feels like leather.  Even tan mom (remember her?) would be grossed out by it.  It all resembles a horrible sunburn, but instead of letting it heal, it’s as though I go right back to laying out in an intensely hot sun.  Every day I smother myself with lotion and now I add a layer of Aquafor on top of that.  My radiation oncologist continues to praise how well my skin is reacting considering I’m on my last week.  He said this is pretty typical and he’s happy to see that I do not yet have any peeling skin or open wounds.  He gave me a prescription strength burn cream to have on hand in case that changes.  I hope I won’t need it.

I try to keep my arm from rubbing against the burnt skin area and have taken to wearing my neck pillow around my waist to keep my arm at a safe distance from my crispy skin.  I know now the perfect gift to give someone who is diagnosed with breast cancer and has to go through surgery, chemo, and radiation.  A neck pillow and a sleep mask.  If you want to be really practical a gazillion boxes of tissues would also be useful. 

I have only two treatments left and as my kids would say “I’m almost done with cancer.”  I have been at the cancer center almost every day for the last six weeks and 1-2 times a week for five months prior to that.  When I wasn’t visiting that place I was stuck at home recovering from surgery.  After Friday, I don’t have another oncology appointment for a month.  A month, I say!

Looking on the Bright Side…It will feel weird, but I am happy not to have to see all the wonderful people who work at the hospital on a regular basis.