Another Busy Day

Another Busy Day

Jeff joined me for another day full of doctors’ appointments.  I met with my plastic surgeon and had the last of my “fillers.”  My expanders are very much expanded.  The next step will be the rest of reconstruction surgery.  I will have the surgery after chemo so we are looking at some time mid-May.  I am excited to get that operation done.  Once again, the doctor has said that my breasts are “healing beautifully”.  I’m glad he thinks so because they still look pretty beat up to me, but he’s the expert.  I also had chemotherapy this afternoon.  I started my new drug treatment, Taxol.  So far so good, but I have learned that side effects can hit any time.  I will be going weekly from here on out.  Jeff and I were pretty emotional today.  Maybe because we have not had a full day of appointments in a while.  Maybe because we hadn’t been out just the two of us in a while.  It reminded me of when this all started and our life was suddenly overwhelmingly full of appointments and new information.  We drove by the Breast Center on our way to one of the doctors’ offices and I found myself tearing up.  That was where it all started; the mammogram and ultrasound and anxiety.  It was a reminder of just how much my life has changed since that one innocent visit.  Before that day I was just a regular 32 year old living my life just being a mom, working full time, and going to grad school.  It’s so crazy to think about how fast things can change.  I miss that life.  I hope to get it back someday, but right now it seems so long ago I had it and such a distant dream of ever having it back.

Looking on the Bright Side…I’m so glad I have Jeff with me through all of this and I’m also glad I was able to have a good excuse to drop the class - Functional Analysis of Challenging Behaviors.  This class was stressing me out even before I found the lump.

 

 

chemo cycle #5

Time

Time is a concept that can be difficult for children and adults.  I remember being a kid and the drive to my maternal grandparents’ house (20 miles away) seemed to take forever.  Waiting for one of the most anticipated days of my life to finally arrive took so devastatingly long I thought it would kill me, but finally getting the “New Kids On The Block” cassette tape was totally worth the wait.  Spending 45 minutes at the dentist feels a lot longer than 45 minutes having coffee with a friend.  Time can be deceiving.  A couple of people just recently commented to me that the last eight weeks of chemotherapy “have gone by fast.”  It was really an innocent comment and they quickly acknowledged that it is easy for them to say that as they are not living it day to day.  I told them that the last eight weeks have not gone by fast at all for me.  In fact, they have been painfully slow and it doesn’t help knowing that I still have 12 weeks to go!  It’s really weird how time works, or how our perception of time works.  Some days drag and other days fly by, yet they are both equally 24 hours.  I am learning to embrace every day, those that feel long and those that feel short and those that are still spent anticipating another “New Kids On The Block” album.

Looking on the Bright Side…in the grand scheme of things, I’m hoping this whole experience will eventually feel like a small short bump in the road as I plan on living a long, long life!

Being Normal

Being Normal

Having breast cancer is a life changing experience, one I never asked for but those are the cards I was dealt.  Jeff and I have tried to keep things “normal” for the most part and while things are certainly not the same as they used to be, they are not really all that different either.  I sleep and rest A LOT more than I used to, my appetite is different, and I spend more time with doctors and nurses than I do with my family, friends, and coworkers combined.  No one really complains to me (and I’m grateful for that) but I know others are also affected by the chaos cancer brings.  Jeff has had to do a little more of everything.  He keeps very busy cleaning, cooking, bathing the kids, doing laundry, entertaining the kids, etc.  These are jobs that we would have shared more equally before (sans cooking, that has always been him and I did more thorough cleaning than him but you get the point.)  He has taken over these extra responsibilities without me ever having to ask and has never complained…to me.  Seriously, he just does it.  I’m amazed at how he has risen up to every task every day and I know it hasn’t been easy.  Other than a little extra dust, our house and routine are pretty much the same as before.  The kids have also been amazing.  Other than the time Brinley was dramatically disappointed that I was too tired to play Barbie’s (and playing Barbie’s is not my specialty so I didn’t feel too bad) and the kids were sad that I declined joining them for “lava monster,” the kids have also adjusted well to the changes.  One of the biggest changes for them is probably that I am not as actively involved in their play as I was before.  I’ve been on the couch a lot lately.  Thankfully they are incredibly creative and their imaginations keep them happily occupied.  I realized just how much they have been affected when Coen’s teacher commented that he recently told her “my mom is starting to feel like herself again.”  And today I was feeling really well and spent the entire morning coloring with the kids, doing puzzles, and playing Lego’s.  Brinley looked at me and said “it’s nice having you back to normal mom!”  I couldn’t agree more.  Here’s to more normal days!

Looking on the Bright Side…cancer has forced me to be more easygoing about a lot of things.  I do not get as anxious about dishes in the sink (for a short amount of time) or incorrect placement of pillows on the couch.  This too is a life changing experience for us J

imaginations at work!

Breast Cancer Super Bowl

Breast Cancer Super Bowl

In honor of the upcoming super bowl, I decided to have a little fun comparing football terms with breast cancer (BC).  All football definitions were taken straight from dictionary.com and www.dummies.com: “Common Football Terms to Know”, because I know nothing about football.  Some definitions were slightly modified only to make shorter.  I found some to be unnecessarily complex.  All BC definitions came directly from my brain to this blog.

END ZONE Football Definition: A 10-yard-long area at both ends of the field — the Promised Land for a football player. You score a touchdown when you enter the end zone in control of the football.

END ZONE BC Definition: The area of your life you are considered a “Cancer Survivor” - the Promised Land for those battling breast cancer.

SNAP Football Definition: The action in which the ball is hiked.  When the snap occurs, the ball is officially in play and action begins

SNAP BC Definition: The action is which the cancer is detected and your health is turned over to your doctor.  When the snap occurs, action begins immediately.

EXTRA POINT Football Definition: A kick, worth one point, that’s typically attempted after every touchdown.  It must sail between the uprights and above the crossbar of the goalpost to be considered good.

EXTRA POINT BC Definition:  Every year you are cancer free is worth an extra point.  You must be cleared by your oncologist for the point to be considered good.

HALFTIME Football Definition: the intermission or rest period between the two halves of a football game, during which spectators are often entertained by baton twirling, marching bands, or the like.
HALFTIME BC Definition: The intermission or rest period between surgery and/or chemo and/or radiation.  I can’t promise spectators baton twirling or a marching band, but may offer other forms of entertainment such as karaoke or jumping on a trampoline.

 FUMBLE Football Definition: The act of losing possession of the ball while running with it or being tackled.

FUMBLE BC Definition: The act of losing adherence to your chemo schedule due to infection or (gasp) missing an appointment.

 INTERCEPTION Football Definition: A pass that’s caught by a defensive player, ending the offense’s possession of the ball.

INTERCEPTION BC Definition: a relapse of signs and symptoms of cancer returning, ending your chance of a touchdown (see definition below).

 TACKLE Football Definition: A physical challenge to an opponent, as to prevent his progress with the ball. Examples include, seizing, grasping, or bringing down.

TACKLE BC Definition: A physical challenge to the patient, an attempt to prevent her progress with battling cancer.  Examples include infection, low blood counts, nausea, mouth sores, bone pain, blurred vision, and many more.

 HAIL MARY Football Definition: a long forward pass in football, especially as a last-ditch attempt at the end of a game, where completion is considered unlikely.

HAIL MARY BC Definition: When the patient opts out of treatments (surgery, chemo, and/or radiation) hoping and praying for a miracle.  Long term survival is considered unlikely.

TOUCHDOWN Football Definition: A score, worth six points, that occurs when a player in possession of the ball crosses the plane of the opponent’s goal line, or when a player catches the ball while in the opponent’s end zone, or when a defensive player recovers a loose ball in the opponent’s end zone.
TOUCHDOWN BC Definition: When you are officially considered “cancer free”!  Touchdown dance and celebration encouraged!

 Looking on the Bright Side…I have gained a lot of new information about football and I think it is going to come in handy as Coen continues to love the game, despite my lack of enthusiasm for the sport.

 

Goodbye Red Devil

Goodbye Red Devil

The worst may be behind me.  I just finished my fourth and final cycle of the chemo combination of Adriamycin and Cytoxan.  It has been 7 weeks and in another week this stuff with be out of my system.  I hope to never have to see these drugs again.  This drug combination is pretty intense and hard hitting and I feel like I was hit pretty hard.  Adriamycin (aka “the red devil”) has been especially difficult.  Adriamycin is a vesicant, meaning it’s a chemical that can cause extensive tissue damage and blistering if it escapes the vein so the nurses have to manually push it through the IV.  Very carefully.  Ugh, I shiver at the thought of seeing the red liquid cautiously entering my body, leaving its nasty side effects behind as a reminder.

 I have approximately 13 weeks left of chemo and 12 treatments.  Starting this week, I will go weekly for Taxol.  Apparently, Taxol (or at least the amount I’m getting per treatment) is not quite as rigorous and harsh on the body.  I am told that the side effects will most likely be milder than they were with the other drugs.  Some women even experience hair regrowth!  The Adriamycin and Cytoxan really affected my blood counts leaving me at a very increased risk for infection and needing two blood transfusions.  As if all that were not enough we have also had a lot going around our house.  Since Thanksgiving we have had the following illnesses

·         Ear infections (3 total)

·         Sinus infection

·         Croup (twice)

·         Fevers and cold symptoms (too many to count)

·         Cancer (one, but it's kind of major so I think it get's another mention)

Jeff and I have cleaned and re-cleaned our house so many times. We have washed and disinfected every possible surface and done enough hot water laundry that I’m surprised our laundry machines still work.  I am praying for a bit of break.  I think we deserve it.  All this illness is starting to get in the way of my desired optimistic attitude.  Even my “looking on the bright side” is kind of a downer. Hey, I’m trying!

Looking on the Bright Side…I have always joked that I would like to hibernate through the winter like some animals get to as I really dislike winter, cold, and snow.  I finally have my chance!  Unfortunately it’s not as cool as I thought it would be, at least under these circumstances.  Now I know.

Let's Talk About Hair

I am kind of nervous about my hair growing back.  I feel like I will be stuck in this really weird phase where I have some hair but not enough to really have a hair style.  It’s like when you’re pregnant and start to show but it isn’t exactly clear if it’s a baby or a big meal.  It’s a weird in between phase. I have never had super short hair.  I love the short cropped hairstyles on other people, but on me?  I guess I’ll find out.  Since having lost my hair, I have noticed how frequently hair is the topic of discussions.  People talk about hair a lot!  Magazines sometimes have their entire issue devoted to hair.  Not helpful at this point.  There are commercials about hair, books about hair, and billboards about hair.  There’s a musical about hair!  It’s everywhere.  I miss my hair, yet I am still uncomfortable wearing my wig.  I’m not really sure why.  I guess I’m afraid that it looks fake.  Is it better to have no hair or fake hair?  I have no idea.  My wig is very cute, but it is odd to not be able to run my hands through it and it gets itchy and hot sometimes.  I am also afraid that it is going to be inadvertently crooked or I’ll be too careless about keeping it straight.  That is something I’ve never had to worry about.  It’s a lot of pressure!  I’m going to start wearing it soon.  Pictures to come.   

Looking on the Bright Side…having no hair or “in between” hair still has to be better than that perm I was trying to rock in the fourth grade.  Even my 9 year old self knew how awful it was.  Picture NOT included.

Nipple Shopping

Nipple Shopping

I never thought I would be writing about my nipples.  Yet, here I am dedicating an entire post to nipples.  I guess it comes with the territory when you have breast cancer, you get free rein to discuss all things related to breasts.  I will be getting my second phase of breast reconstruction done eventually and I have been a bit curious about how it all works.  I am especially curious about getting new nipples.  Do I even need nipples?  I am pretty sure they will serve no purpose, other than to be aesthetically pleasing? I have this bizarre image of getting new nipples.  For whatever reason this is how I imagine it to be

I’m going nipple shopping at The Nipple Store.  I bring my husband with me in the same way that I would bring him to shop for new shoes; I sort of already know what I want, but I still want his opinion.  I envision the store to look like a jewelry store, the nipples are all displayed in glass cabinets that allow you to look, but are carefully protected.  We walk around the store and point out some that look “nice”.  The workers are very knowledgeable about nipples and it doesn’t seem weird at all to look and ask numerous questions.  In my mind, I have this weird vision that my new nipples will be transferrable.  Easy on and easy off.  Maybe like suction cups, stickers, or Velcro?  So convenient.  I think I’ll take two!

In reality, I’m actually not that far off.  There are various options for nipples including

·         Fake polyurethane removable nipples, seriously! 

·         Look alike nipple tattoo

·         Nipple reconstruction from your own tissue somewhere from your body

I have a lot of thinking to do!

Looking on the Bright Side…In my mind there is also a shoe store next door.  I better get some new shoes to go with my new look.

Chemo Cocktails with a Friend

Chemo Cocktails with a Friend

I have a new friend.  Our daughters are in the same preschool classroom.  I met her at the schools Halloween party, three days before my mastectomy.  We are both teachers, so we chatted a bit about that.  She is a few years younger than me.  We had enough in common that maybe we would become friends.  Then about a month later she sends me a message.  She was talking to the girls’ teacher and it turns out we have way more in common that I thought.  She was just diagnosed with breast cancer.  Although I barely knew her, it felt like someone punched me in the gut.  I felt so sad for her knowing exactly what she was going through.  We immediately connected and our stories continue to be shockingly similar.  We have the same oncologist and radiation oncologist.  We have the exact same diagnosis and are receiving the same treatment.  She is also part of the same clinical trial that I am participating in.  She is one month behind me in terms of diagnosis and treatments.  We even have chemo on the same days!  It has been really nice to have someone else to talk with and share stories with. 

Looking on the Bright Side…the doctors have coordinated our schedules for us so it makes it easy to get together and chat over (chemo) cocktails, even if we are hooked up to our big clunky machines. 

I Know Too Much

I Know Too Much

It is weird to think that 5 months ago I knew almost nothing about breast cancer.  Now, I know way more than I ever wanted to.  I readily admit that I knew very little about breast cancer before my diagnosis.  I had no idea how scary and exhausting and expensive it would all be.  When I was initially diagnosed I never really even considered that this is something that would forever change me.  Maybe it was shock, maybe it was me being naïve but death was never something that I considered.  Just now, it is beginning to hit me that even after all the chemo and radiation I am still not going to be in the clear.  With the high survivor rates, I sometimes forget that death is still a possibility.   Breast cancer kills roughly 40,000 women a year in the US.  For me, getting breast cancer was already against the odds, who’s to say the odds will be in my favor now.  I worry about my daughter.  I know she is only 4 years old, but I pray that she doesn’t ever have to go through this.  Hopefully there will be a cure by then.

Looking on the Bright Side…there are millions of breast cancer survivors living in the US and I guess that’s a pretty decent statistic to have on my side.   

Brave and Strong?

Brave and Strong?

I have been told by numerous people that I am so strong and so brave.  I used to have a hard time with hearing that.  I felt like a fraud.  I didn’t feel strong and I definitely didn’t feel brave.  For a long time I didn’t really feel much of anything.  I was in survival mode.  I didn’t have a choice in anything, so if it seemed strong or brave I wasn’t in on it.  To me, brave people are those in the military, nurses/doctors, firefighters, police officers…garbage collectors!  Me?  I’m not brave.

Now, I have come to appreciate those comments more.  I know I will look back someday and see how strong I was.  Strong because I didn’t have a nervous breakdown or fall into a miserable “woe is me” attitude.  I guess when you have cancer the criteria for being strong is pretty low.  Honestly, the thing that gets me through is knowing that it is me who has cancer.  If Jeff or one of the kids had been diagnosed with cancer, I would be a wreck.  If out of my group of friends someone had to get cancer, I’m glad it’s me.  If one of my parents or a sibling had cancer, I would be a mess.  I think the “brave” and “strong” awards should go to all of them.  Jeff has been so strong and with him I can’t help but look on the bright side.  My kids keep me happily distracted and are so resilient.  I think that they are at a good age (4 and 5 years old) because they are young enough to understand that I’m sick and need extra rest, but not old enough to be too stressed that their mom has cancer.  They are just kids.  They just want to play with me and I am happy to do just that.

Looking on the Bright Side…a good game of UNO or Candy Land can get anyone out of a rut.  Playing Tic-Tac-Toe or “guess what hand” for an hour…not so much.  Don’t tell them I told you that.

playing "Headbanz" with Grandma and Aunt Amy

more games and more fun



Too Much of a Good Thing

Too Much of a Good Thing

So I have a very strict television rule at my house.  The rule basically being that the tv stays off.  The kids are allowed 1 or 2 shows a few days a week, other than that we leave it off.  Jeff and I don’t watch tv when the kids are awake as we like to give our attention to each other and the kids.  Very rarely are these rules broken.  The kids have amazing play skills and imaginations, I love it.  So with me being home and not feeling well I have broken the rule a couple times.  I have watched a few episodes of “Property Brothers.”  That show is awesome and it is one of the very few shows that I don’t mind having on while the kids are around.   So maybe I have watched more than a few.  Here’s how I know.

Coen and Brinley were playing together the other day and I hear Coen say “let’s play Property Brothers.  I will be Jonathan and you be Drew.  No, you be the one to look at houses.”  Brinley enthusiastically agreed and I listened as Coen showed Brinley around the kitchen pointing out some of the lovely features of our home.  Then I hear Coen ask Brinley “so how much do you think this house is worth?”  Brinley replied “$4,000”.  Coen said very seriously “no, this house cost 40 hundred thousand dollars.  Don’t you think that’s a little off your budget?” 

I couldn’t help but laugh.  It was so cute, but that was my cue that maybe I was watching too much tv!

Looking on the Bright Side…in my defense, at least I wasn’t watching Jersey Shore.  Can you just imagine that conversation “you be Snooki and I’ll be The Situation!”  Not good!

 





Things are Looking Up!

Things are Looking Up!

Finally, I feel great!  I feel amazing!  I feel like I can climb a flight of stairs without having to rest halfway up!  Having that blood transfusion changed everything.  I have some color again.  My heart is beating at a normal pace again.  I can brush my teeth without needing a nap afterwards.  Life is good.  This post is short, I have too much to do and the energy to do it!

Looking on the Bright Side…I’m going on a date with my husband.  We are going out together and it’s not to a hospital!

 

 Date: movie, lunch, shopping, and organizing!  I know, all in one day; it was amazing.

Transfused!

Transfusion – January 11^th

I’m a little worried about the transfusion.  It is a little unsettling to know that someone else’s blood is going to be in your body.  I don’t even like to share writing utensils with people, much less blood!  However, I feel so awful that if its blood that will help me feel better I can put my neurosis aside.  I get two bags of blood and almost immediately feel better.  Wow.  This is some good stuff!  I was told that I would feel like a million bucks after the transfusion and even more so after a good night’s sleep.  I feel like they just gave me some super drug.  Who knew?  Blood does a body good.  At the end of the transfusion I literally do a little dance out of the hospital.  I have forgotten what it’s like to feel good and have energy!  I haven’t felt this great in months!  I feel incredible.

I’m very grateful to the person who donated blood, but can’t but wonder whose blood is now in my body.  Will there be weird side effects?  Should I be concerned if I find myself doing something out of the ordinary like wanting to watch old episodes of “Walker, Texas Ranger” or eating meatloaf?  I’m not sure.

Looking on the Bright Side…I might only look like $50, but I really do feel like a million bucks and I’m happy with that!  Now if only I could transform that feeling into real money.

Got Blood?

Got Blood? – January 7^th

So I haven’t been feeling well this week.  I have been really, really, really tired and have no energy.  Let me give you an example of a small part of my day.

Laying on the couch.  I have a headache.  I move from laying down to sitting.  SMACK!  (SMACK = hit in the back of the head with a metal baseball bat. Have you ever been hit in the back of the head with a metal baseball bat?  Yeah, me neither but I imagine it really hurts and this is how my head feels when I change positions.)  I sit for about a minute or so to regain vision and feel slightly relieved of the initial pain in my head.  I stand up.  SMACK! I have to steady myself so I don’t fall.  After another minute I slowly walk from the couch to the kitchen to get a glass of water.  My heart is frantically beating, I can barely catch my breath and have to sit down at the kitchen table to rest. SMACK!  Oh man, I still have to get back to the couch. 

That is my day Monday – Friday.  It gets progressively worse each day so by Wednesday, I am very concerned.  Thursday I go in for my routine blood work and the nurses can see how difficult it is for me to move.  They wonder if maybe my hemoglobin count is down.  I don’t really know what that means, but I want there to be some reason for why I feel this way.  Turns out my hemoglobin levels are low, very low.   Fun Fact: hemoglobin is the protein in your red blood cells that carries oxygen.  A normal range for women is 12.0-15.5 grams per deciliter.  I am at 7.9.  No wonder my heart has been racing, I’m short of breath, and fatigued!  Now I know why I have been looking extremely pale and sick.  I don’t have enough blood in my body.  Turns out blood is pretty essential.  So they immediately schedule me for a blood transfusion.  I didn’t even realize that was an option.  I thought you had to bleed to lose blood.  Turns out this is another side effect of chemo.  The nurses and doctor tell me that I will feel so much better after the transfusion.  Let’s hope so!

Looking on the Bright Side…I have a whole new appreciation for blood.  It’s like I discovered something new.  Something legal, free, and fabulous!

Christmas (with Cancer)

Christmas with Cancer

Chemo has been off to a rough start.  After the first treatment I experienced many of the typical side effects, nausea and blurred vision being the worst.  Shortly after my first treatment I got a cold.  A nasty awful head cold.  By the second chemo treatment my oncologist has adjusted my meds a bit and the nausea and blurred vision are significantly better.  If it hadn’t been for the cold and numerous fevers I think I would have felt decent.  It is also Christmas time.  I feel guilty that I wasn’t able to do as much as I normal would with me kids.  Between fatigue, my cold, and my weakened immune system I am not able to go out much.  No Navy Pier, no Macy’s on State Street, no Christmas light trolley tours, no breakfast with Santa, no Nutcracker, no Christmas around the World, no Christmas plays, etc.  We are usually pretty busy this time of year.  I’m happy we got the tree up, but I know it isn’t fair for the kids.  They are at the prefect age for this stuff and I am determined not to make this Christmas the “Christmas mom had cancer.”  I did most of our shopping online.  Thank goodness for the internet!  I wonder if having Santa bring extra toys will help, but then I remember we don’t have a lot of extra money right now and we definitely don’t have a lot of extra space for toys.  Jeff reminds me of all this and we agree this is a good year to remember the true meaning of Christmas…letting others buy toys for our kids, just kidding.  We have amazing kids and they know Christmas is about giving and spending time with those you love.  This year it is also about getting a castle, a skateboard, and Baby Alive.  I think we can manage that.

 Christmas Eve and Christmas day I was feeling alright and well enough to spend with my husband’s family.  I had to duck out a little early on Christmas day, but I’m pretty proud of myself for making most of it.  We have plans to go to Iowa to stay with my parents for a few days on the upcoming weekend.  The day after Christmas, my body is getting back at me for being so “active” the day before and I start to run another fever.  Fast forward to the weekend and I have to cancel our trip.  My doctor feels I shouldn’t go and may very possibly end up in the emergency room if my fever continues.  He doesn’t want me to be too far away.  Great.  Now cancer is ruining this too.  In all honesty, I feel so lousy that not having to make the trip is kind of relieving.  My parents and sister graciously agree to come to us instead.  Okay, Christmas is not necessarily ruined but this is about the time that I start to feel really angry.  For the first time since this “journey” started, I feel really angry about it all.  I want to know why this is happening to me, to our family.  It is kind of hard to go on Facebook and see others having their (what I assume) happy, normal, and perfect Christmas and New Year’s.  I know I can’t think like that and that makes me even angrier. 

Looking on the Bright Side…I have to constantly remind myself that things could be worse and I have incredibly wonderful family and friends to spend even my crummiest days with.

Christmas Day

 

The Question I Hate to Have to Ask

The Question I Hate to Have to Ask

I have an appointment with my oncologist and I know I have to ask him this question.  I warn him that I’m going to ask him a question that I may not be prepared to hear the answer for.  Will I be able to have more kids?  Jeff and I have always planned to have one or two more.  In fact, prior to this cancer stuff we had just begun trying for another.  I always assumed we would have more.  That’s what we wanted.  The doctor carefully told me that although it may be physically possible to have more, he’s going to say “no”.  After all these treatments are over I will be on hormonal therapy (a drug called Tamoxifen) for at least five years after.  That would make me 38 years old.  I think to myself, alright I can handle that.  I would have preferred to be done having kids by 38, but that’s fine.  Then he tells me that even then, the chance of cancer returning (because my ER/PR status is not only positive, but it is 100% positive!) is too great.  The hormones from pregnancy are likely to “wake” any cancer cells that may be in my body.  If the cancer returns it will be my cause of death.  Okay, never mind.  This is hard news to hear.  I guess I won’t be having more kids after all.  I know I should be happy just to have the two adorable and amazing children that I do have, and I am…but I can’t help be upset that we can’t have more.  It is always difficult when the decision is made for you and you don’t have a say. 

Looking on the Bright Side…I see no more diapers in my future!  Let’s be honest, this makes me both incredibly happy and incredibly sad.  However, I am more grateful than ever to have the two kids that I have, they make life worth living.

Losing My Hair

Losing My Hair - December 11th

How do you prepare to lose your hair?  I know it’s going to happen.  I also know my limitations and watching my hair fall out in clumps is beyond what I can handle.  I have called a local salon and set up an appointment to get my hair “cut”.  I explained my story and they kindly made an appointment for a time when I would be the only customer there.  I decide to bring along a good friend/neighbor.  I know she will keep my spirits up and I’m pretty sure she has already seen me cry, so I know she’s cool.  I’m nervous, but yet strangely calm.  I’m most nervous that there will be some type of hidden bump on my skull or a weird looking birthmark that has always been covered by hair.  That’s just what I need…to have cancer, be bald, and have a huge birthmark in the shape of an alligator, or pineapple, or something on my head. 

I get to the salon and sit in the chair.  My hair is long and I plan to donate it to Locks of Love  http://www.locksoflove.org/ maybe someone else can get some good use out of it.  I see that the stylist is a bit nervous.  This is probably the first time she has ever shaved a woman’s head.  I ask her.  Yep, definitely the first time.  She begins by cutting off the pigtails she put my hair into.  That part was easy.  Then she gets out the electric razor.  I think her hand is shaking a little bit.  I can’t decide whether or not to watch as she does it.  My friend suggests NOT watching.  Probably a good idea.  It’s weird to feel the razor against my scalp and see the hair falling all around me.  I can feel the stylist’s cold hands on my head.  I wonder if I am making a mistake but then I remember that the alternative is worse.  I don’t want to feel that the cancer is taking my hair.  Shaving it makes me feel I have a little bit of control.  I know either way, I’m going to lose it.  I start to feel better.  Yeah!  I get the “I’m going to kick cancer’s butt” attitude.  Who needs hair anyway?  Besides, it will grow back…eventually.  Yeah!  I’m in control of this thing.  Wait. She’s finished?  Okay.  She asks me if I’m ready to see it.  Yep, I’m ready.  Turn this chair around!  I’m a strong woman.  I don’t need hair.  HOLY SH#%!!!!!  I see myself in the mirror!!!!  I immediately cry.  It is so weird to look in the mirror and not recognize yourself.  My ears look so big!  I can’t believe I have no hair.  I get my emotions in check and thank the stylist.  She does not charge me and doesn’t accept any payment.  She has been so sweet this whole time.  I have to remember to write a thank you note and send it to her with a tip.  We get ready to leave.  I just realize I have nothing to cover my head.  I put on my hood and we drive home. 

When I get home, I see Jeff and pull my hood off.  I start to cry.  Really cry.  It’s a hard “oh my God, I have no more hair” cry.  Jeff hugs me and assures me it’s going to be okay.  He makes me feel better.  I hate it when the kids see me cry.  They are wide eyed and unsure of my new “hairdo”.  They too assure me that it’s okay.  I don’t think they know how to respond to their newly bald mom weeping and sobbing.  I go take a shower and quickly realize how weird this all is.  What do I use to wash my head?  Shampoo?  Bar soap? Facial soap?  Is there some type of special soap for bald heads?  I decide that there must not be any special soap.  Jeff has never mentioned it.  I wonder if I will ever get used to this.     

Looking on the Bright Side…no hair = very low maintenance.  I no longer have to spend a few hours minutes blow-drying, brushing, styling, curling, straightening, putting my hair in a ponytail.

my "haircut"

I'm Sorry Chemo

I’m Sorry Chemo

On my last post I was a little hard on chemo.  Okay, really hard.  I feel bad, so decided to write a letter (go along with me here, I really feel bad).   

Dear Chemo,

I’m writing to apologize.  I lost my cool and went on and on and on about how much I hate you.  I know this is not fair.  You are only doing your job.  I know I need to start appreciating you for what you really are…a lifesaving drug.  From now on I will try to accept that the (sometimes horrible) side effects can be overlooked...but only if you promise to do your best to get rid of my cancer forever. 

          Your “Friend”, Angie

There I feel better now.  I know we will never be besties, but this is good for now.

Looking on the Bright Side…I truly am grateful that I have access to medicines and treatments that will make me better.  Also, because chemo isn’t a person I can totally talk about it behind its back and it will never know (wink, wink).

I Hate Chemo

I Hate Chemo - December 6th

This is not going to come as a surprise…I hate cancer, but I really hate chemo.  I know it is going to hopefully save/extend my life and I am grateful for that.  I still hate it.  I hate the way it leaves a nasty metallic taste in my mouth.  I hate the way it makes me feel nauseous.  I hate the way I feel hungry but yet totally disgusted by food.  I hate that it gives me mouth sores.  I hate that it takes away all my energy and leaves me feeling exhausted all the time.  I hate the way it blurs my vision.  I hate the bone pain.  I hate it all.  It reminds me a little bit of the first trimester of pregnancy, but a more extreme version.  The other difference is when you’re pregnant, it’s more tolerable because you know you’re body is working hard to provide for, nurture, and protect a human being.  It’s amazing.  When you’re going through chemo, your body is getting pumped full of drugs to try and destroy the damaging cells that have invaded your body.  It’s horrible.

Looking on the Bright Side…chemotherapy has actually come along way.  It is much more efficient and doctors are able to manage the side effects better than ever.  I can still hate it though…right?  I think yes!

celebrating my 33rd birthday

my first chemo treatment

The Scars

The Scars

The first time I looked at my chest after surgery, I almost threw up.  I guess I wasn’t prepared to see the destruction this cancer had caused.  It was really tough to look in the mirror and see two giant wounds and now see two giant scars cross my chest.  It is one thing to have the surgery and have the cancer removed, but it’s another thing to have to see it.  With the immediate reconstruction done, I have breasts, kind of.  What I really have are two scarred up, rock hard, saline filled bumps on my triple ported chest.  It’s not pretty or comfortable, but I trust that my plastic surgeon will do his magic and make them beautiful.  I have to go in every so often to have my skin stretched to allow for the implants.  I will get the actual implants once I am finished with chemo.        

Looking on the Bright Side…with all these new scars on my chest, I hardly notice the stretch marks on my stomach anymore!

The Facts

 The Facts

I guess this cancer thing is not a mistake.  It’s really real.  The type of breast cancer that I have is pretty standard.  Other than my young age, it’s not an unusual diagnosis (as far as breast cancer is concerned.)  The type of cancer I have is invasive ductal carcinoma.  The cancer grade of both tumors is 2, meaning the cancer cells grow faster than normal cells, but it is not the fastest growing.  My cancer is ER+ (estrogen receptor positive) and PR+ (progesterone receptor positive).  100% of my cancer cells have receptors!  My cancer is HER2 low.  I will be getting the pretty standard treatment and agreed to be part of a clinical trial.  I will be going through 20 weeks of chemotherapy, 8 weeks of one drug combination and then 12 weeks of another.  Then I will have 5 ½ weeks of radiation and will be on a hormonal therapy drug for at least 5 years after. 

This stuff better work!  I was surprised when talking with the oncologists about survival/mortality rates (he brought it up, not me…I wasn’t even going there) that the statistics were not better (and by better, I mean the survival rates being 100%).  The data looks 10 years out.  10 years?  10 years!  I will only be in my early 40’s!  My kids will be young teenagers.  This sucks.

Looking on the Bright Side…of all the expenses my husband and I thought we would be making this year (new water heater, windows, carpet, etc.) we did not see “new boobs” making the list.  At least it’s something I can kind of show off.  No one wants to see our new water heater, but my new breasts…maybe?

Overwhelmed...in a Good Way

Overwhelmed…in a Good Way

I have amazing family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, and students.  My family = amazing!  My friends = incredible!  My neighbors = wonderful!  My coworkers = supportive!  Immediately after being diagnosed, everyone was incredibly kind and encouraging.  My friends immediately grouped together and offered to help and do whatever they could.  Family and friends truly helped me more than they will ever know.  My coworkers gave us Schwann’s gift cards because they know how weird I am about food.  My students made cards, gave me a group gift, and sent many special messages.  My neighbors are the best.  They have gone above and beyond. 

I am not necessarily surprised by all the kindness because I already knew these people were all great, but to have them all there for me at the same time…I cannot express the gratitude.  Even people, I have not spoken with in many years were showing support.  How does this all make me feel?  It makes me feel special, it also makes me feel like I’m dying or something!  Regardless, I am thankful for everyone who sent prayers, well wishes, gifts, etc. 

Looking on the Bright Side…I hope all these people will continue or start or remind their loved ones to do self-breast exams.  I want people to become familiar with their breasts, normal lumps and all.  Plus, I sound pretty knowledgeable about boobies now so I think they will listen to me.