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. 

Residual Effects

Residual Effects

Cancer has been a crazy whirlwind of an experience.  The list of side effects has been long and overwhelming.  Having been through 9 months of treatments and being almost finished there are still a few residual effects of having been through so much. 

1.     I have been to the doctor’s office/hospital/cancer center so many times that I now automatically assume all doctors and nurses are going to want to check my breasts.  I am worried that I will accidently give my dentist and optometrist quite an eyeful.  Surprise. 

2.    I feel the need to have a doctor’s note for anything I do.  When you are going through treatment for cancer, you would be surprised at how many people won’t touch you unless you have written permission from your doctor.  Now when I go somewhere I have my oncologist sign off on it: Angie (patient) is allowed to check out books from the library.  Just in case.

3.    I make routine trips to the pharmacy because there always seems to be something there for me.  It’s like a fun new surprise at every visit.  I just never know what’s waiting for me.  It is so exhilarating to open up that CVS bag and pull out the drug.  Is it something new?  Have I had it before?  What are the side effects?  How many pills do I get in a day?  Will I need refills?  Can I pronounce the name?  Do I take it with or without food?  The excitement just doesn’t end.  Another gift for me.  You shouldn’t have!  Those pharmacists really know how to make a girl feel special.   

4.    Every time I have to fill out a new health history form I consider it a challenge.  I try to fill it all out in under 10 minutes.  When I successfully complete this challenge and I return it to the receptionist with a smug look of accomplishment on my face and she reciprocates with an “I don’t care” or “why are you looking at me like that?” look back at me.  I don’t expect a trophy or anything, although it would be nice.

5.    I have learned just how quickly life can change.  One day you’re going about your regular day and the next you can find a lump that will turn your world upside down.  I have learned to be thankful for all the things I have. 

Looking on the Bright Side…This experience has also shown me what an amazing group of people I have in my life.  The support I have received has been incredible and I will be forever grateful for that.

I'm Almost Done!

I’m Almost Done! 

I have been going through the daily mundane radiation process.  My skin gets a little bit more red and irritated every day but it is “looking pretty good” according to my doctors.  I have to just take their word for it, I guess. 

I noticed last week I had a small rash on the center of my chest and figured it was related to the radiation.  Then the rash spread to my neck, and then to my face, and then to my shoulders.  I wake up on Monday morning with my right eye partially swollen close and a very obvious raised red rash from the chest up.  Just what I needed.  It looked as if I had wiped poison ivy on myself.  For the record, I had not.  I went in to see my radiation oncologist and he is unsure what it is, but says it is not related to the radiation.  He wants my medical oncologist to look at it though just to be sure.  He wasn’t in yet, so the nurse practitioner takes a peek.  She says it is not shingles or chicken pox.  Great, so we can rule out a few things.  It’s NOT poison ivy, radiation side effects, or shingles.  Now if only we could figure it out.  Unfortunately, we cannot.  They give me a steroid pack and it takes away most of the itchiness (ahhh) and reduces some of the redness and puffiness.  From far away, I look alright.  As you get closer, you see that my skin is still pretty irritated. 

I have to remind myself that I’m almost done.  Other than this crazy random rash, the sunburnt boob area, fatigue, and my fingernails*, things are going quite well.  I am beginning to feel like I’m getting some of myself back.

*Three of my fingernails are very sensitive and the fingernails have lifted off the nail bed, one is dangerously close to falling off.  This is a lingering side effect from chemo.  With the nail not bound to the nail bed it can be an issue if bacteria enters.  I have to be sure to have excellent hygiene to prevent an infection.  Lucky for me, excellent hygiene and hand washing are skills I happen to be pretty awesome at.  Nail polish also covers the discoloration nicely.

Looking on the Bright Side… I have 21 radiation treatments down and 7 to go!  On July 12^th I will be finished!!!