Done!

As of Friday, I have finally officially finished with cancer treatments.

8 rounds of chemo,

2 boobs removed,

33 radiation treatments,

and a partridge in a pear tree.

I am tired and I'm happy it's over. Many people have asked what the next step is, so I figured I would address it here. At the bare minimum, my plastic surgeon wants to wait at least 3 months until I can have surgery to replace the tissue expanders with implants. I also still need to have the expanders filled a few more times before I'm ready for the exchange. We need to wait until my skin heals from radiation before that can happen - I would prefer the redness and peeling to be gone before I start stretching the skin, ya know? I also have to consider Phish. We're going to see their first concert in almost 5 years, and I can't enjoy myself if I'm sore, tired, or writhing in pain with C Dif. I'll be able to get the expanders filled in about a month, but the surgery will have to wait until after Phish.

Playing the Card

So, today was treatment 20 of 33. I'm almost two thirds of the way there!

It started as most days do, leaving the house at 8:15 and driving to the hospital. The techs were running a little late today, but all that means is that instead of getting on the table around 8:35, I was there at my scheduled 8:45 time. I met with The Zapper, as I do once a week. I got my coffee (today's flavor was Creme Brulee, which was yummy).

As I walked into the parking lot lobby where I validate my parking pass, I noticed that the automated machines were out of order. You see, normally I get a voucher at the radiation clinic. When I put the parking ticket into the machine, I use the voucher to validate the ticket so that I can leave. The machine cancels the voucher and returns both the ticket and the voucher. As you may remember from my last blog post, I save the vouchers and write the day on them and then line them up on my desk. Every day it's my way of telling myself that treatment is over for the day, work has begun, and I can live a normal life for the next 22 hours or so.

So, today the machine was out of order and I had to talk to a "real person" to get my parking pass validated. I knew this was trouble. As I walked up to the window, I asked the clerk if I could keep the voucher.

"No, I can't, because it isn't going to do you any good."

"Well, I know, but the machine usually gives it back and I save them."

"I can't give it back to you because you can't use it any more, it won't work."

"I KNOW..." and then I was upset. Instead of speaking logically, I knew that the best way for me to get my damn voucher was to play the card. Instead of fighting to stay composed, I let tears well up in my eyes a little...

"I come to radiation EVERY DAY and I save these vouchers to keep track of how many days I have left. These are IMPORTANT to ME."

And that took care of it. For about 5 seconds there I don't know if I made myself cry (which I SWEAR I have never done), or I just neglected to stop myself from crying. Either way, I got my damn voucher back, and now it's in its rightful place on my desk with "day 20" written on it.

Hello, Stranger!

[ducks as everyone reading this throws rotten tomatoes]

Okay, that's over.

Yes, yes, I know it's been quite sometime since I've posted. Quite frankly, not much has happened cancer-wise. Today was my 15th radiation treatment, and I have 18 more to go. I've been very busy at work (in a good way), and by the time I get home I haven't felt much like blogging.

I do like the routine of radiation. I get up in the morning, get ready, then head off to the hospital around 8:15. I take the same route (there's really only one way to get there), drive up to the 3rd floor of the parking garage (because there are more empty spaces up there) and park my car. I walk down the stairs, across the drive, and into the big revolving door. Head to Elevator B, Floor B, check in, then head for the changing room. I have to put on a hospital gown on top, but I get to keep everything else on. I grab my book (which I usually don't have time to read) and put everything else in the locker.

Then, if they're running early, the radiation techs are waiting for me and I head straight into Room 3. Otherwise, I'll sit in the waiting room for 5-10 minutes. Recently, I've been talking to another patient, but for awhile I was by myself in the morning. When I get into Room 3, I lie on the radiation table and then the leveling begins. It usually takes between 3-5 minutes for them to line up my body on the table using the tattoos and lasers. Once I'm where I belong, they leave the room and the zapping begins. That part lasts about another 5 minutes. Every other day I have a wet towel that they put on my skin that increases the dose to the area.

Then I leave, put my clothes back on, head up to the 1st floor and get a coffee. I put my parking ticket in a machine, along with a voucher I get for radiation, and then I'm on my merry way. I keep track of the parking tickets and write the day on them so I know how many treatments I've finished. They're all lined up on my desk at work:

So far, my skin is in pretty good shape. It's a little pink. It was worse last week, but I found that one of the creams I was using (recommended by the radiation clinic) was irritating my skin. It was pretty thick and goopy, so I think it wasn't letting my skin breath. I switched to something lighter, and my skin was visibly lighter about an hour after I put it on!

Today they marked my skin for the "scar boosts" that they'll be doing at the tail end of the treatment. It involves 5 doses to the area around the incision. In order to plan for it, I got sharpie markings all over my chest. It looks like a kindergartner went a little crazy on my foob (faux boob).

Anyway, I'll be getting to sleep. It's a big day tomorrow!

1 Down, 32 To Go

Today was my first day of radiation. Pretty uneventful. My appointment was at 8:45 AM, and I was accompanied by my loving copilot, Rusty. We got to the center around 8:35, and I was out of there by 9:05. The process is very simple:

- Check in at the front desk.
- Go to a changing room and put hospital gown on, put clothes in locker.
- Wait in waiting room (which I didn't even have to do today because they were a bit ahead of schedule!)
- Go to radiation room, where techs darken my tattoos with a sharpie then position and level my body.
- Sit there for 10 minutes as the machine moves all around and makes funny noises.

Once a week, I have to meet with either the doctor (The Zapper) or her nurse practitioner. Today happened to be that day. So, although it took a half hour, it won't always take that long.

A couple of hours after radiation I was sitting at my desk at work and I felt a bit of a subcutaneous itch on my left side. This was pretty weird because I can't really feel much on the left side of my chest. I tried to touch it or itch it, but I couldn't get it. I ignored it and it finally went away which is good because there was really no way for me to effectively scratch it.

Right now, my skin feels fine, but they definitely stressed that I should be putting stuff on it before it feels burned, which makes sense. However, there are SO many restrictions. I can't use anything with metals (no aluminum, titanium, or zinc). This means most sunscreens. I can't use anything with fragrance. And I've also seen it suggested elsewhere that I should avoid products with alcohol. So, that basically eliminates just about everything, but they did give some sample tubes of things I should be using. One is called "Jean's Cream", developed by a cancer patient who used a homemade concoction during radiation. It uses mostly natural ingredients and it's supposed to work pretty well. It's not cheap, but only the best for my boobs, you know. There's also this really goopy Eucerin cream that I should use at night. Tonight will be my first night using it.

And that's about it. Here's hoping I sail right through radiation :-)

Radiation Tomorrow

Sorry, this will be a short post, but I figured it was better to have a few words than none at all. My radiation "dry run" went very well on Friday. I met with the nurse and she went over things I should use on my skin and things I should avoid. The main side effects I'll experience are tiredness and skin irritation. After a couple of weeks, I'll get a "sun burn", and it could result in blistering (but the idea is to take care of it *before* that happens).

Tomorrow is my first day of radiation at 8:45 in the morning. The appointment should only last about 15 minutes, and I will have to go 5 days a week for about 6 and a half weeks. Oh Joy! :-)

Career Woman

Back to work.

I went in on Monday for the first time in about a month. Ah, it was good to be back. So good, in fact, that I stayed for a looong day. I knew Rusty was going to bowling on Monday night, so there wasn't much of a reason for me to rush home. Plus, it's nice to spend some time off the couch. And I'm getting kind of sick of The Price is Right.

My manager/team lead at work is great. He's a little older than me, and he really likes beer. In fact, a lot of us at work like beer. Many people are appalled when I tell them this, but there's a pub nearby that we visit once every other week or so for lunch (and beer). The managers and even our director goes, too. At my last job my boss was a beer nazi at work. It was a different industry.

Anyway, to ease back into the week, my manager took me to lunch at the pub. Oh, it was so delicious. There was a yummy Belgian-style honey ale that is just the beer of my dreams. Aside from the beer, we also got to talk a lot about how to ease back in and feel more productive at work. It was a good lunch.

I've had no trouble with driving at all, and my muscles are feeling so good, and almost back to normal. I hope to start a post-mastectomy Pilates DVD soon. My Pilates instructor is getting it to me via a friend, so I don't have it, yet, but I'm excited about exercising again.

My dry-run for radiation is on Friday. The purpose of this appointment is to make sure that the radiation tattoos and the LAZERS line up so I'm in proper placement for the actual treatment. They'll also go over some of the skin problems I can expect and the products I can use to help.

One last thing... I realized I forgot to review the pathology report after surgery. The tumor was .8 centimeters and less around, and they got very good "clean margins" because they took so much tissue. Also, the skin that was removed was all clear. For the lymph nodes, they took 11. That number really surprised me because a lot of times I hear about 20 or so lymph nodes. Now, that could be because he only took the first "level" of nodes, or it could also be because I only had that many. Everyone has a different number of lymph nodes, and the radiation oncologist says that she likes to see anything over 10. Anyway, 3 of the 11 nodes were positive for cancer cells. Not too bad. We were really hoping for 0, but at least it wasn't 9 :-)

The pathology was a little disappointing, and I know my medical oncologist (Mr. Wizard) was also a little disappointed. It's possible that the amount of time between chemo and surgery accounted for some growth. It's also possible that it didn't shrink as much as we thought it did. Either way, it was still a good response, just not a great response. But really, .8 cm is pretty small.

And the Winner Is...

Sierra Nevada Pale Ale!!! If you know me and my beer, that shouldn't be much of a surprise. It's my favorite beer of all time.

On Monday evening, I did a little googling. I figured, since I already decided to have my first beer the next day, let's look up why I shouldn't have had it in the first place. Big mistake.

Now, before you call me a square, know that this isn't one of those "alcohol should be avoided" types of medications. I was taking metronidazole (Flagyl), and when they say not to drink alcohol they're not joking. I read that you should even avoid things like mouthwash.

So, in my googling, I read that after you finish the antibiotics you should wait 3 days before drinking alcohol. THREE DAYS! What's a girl to do when she's been pining for beer for so long? Well, I looked up the side-effects and determined on my own that the way to approach this was to pretend I hadn't googled the information, drink lots of water, and have half a beer yesterday evening (over 24 hours after my last dose) and see if I had a problem. I did not, so I had the other half. Phew.

In non-alcohol-related news, I'm kind of happy about the early radiation thing now. I like that my incisions will get a chance to heal before we go expanding too much, and I'm also happy that I'm not having to deal with the discomfort of healing from surgery and the discomfort of expanding the tissue all at once. Of course, I'll look weird for much longer, but I guess I'll feel a lot better.

One more thing - Phish is coming back in March!!! The joke around the house is that I'd give my left boob to see Phish again. :-)

Surprise!

I forgot to mention that today was my first appointment in over 6 months with my Radiation Oncologist, aka "The Zapper". They called me with the appointment about a month ago, so I kind of forgot about it, too. I was told that there would be four appointments before the first actual treatment, so I knew this would be more of a "meet and greet" session.

When we got there, I was reminded how much of a tedious process this is going to be. At this hospital, patients normally have to register every time they arrive. However, for radiation patients, you just register once at the beginning of each month. Luckily, the treatments are at a different campus of the hospital, which is approximately an 8 minute drive from my house (as opposed to the 10-12 minute drive to the other campus!). More importantly, it's directly on my way home from work. This is very convenient, since I'll need to be there 5 days a week for 6 and a half weeks.

So, anyway, we meet with The Zapper and she is very happy to see that I look a LOT better than she expected. She'd heard about an infection and more antibiotics (without realizing it was C-Diff, I believe)and was afraid that there would be infection at the expander site (but there is not). She also said she was impressed at how high I could lift my arms. We were SO happy to hear her say that. I want to make sure that I'm recovering well, and sometimes it's hard to get that kind of feedback.

One thing we weren't quite prepared for - she wants me to start right away. I didn't realize this, but they like to start radiation about 4 weeks after surgery. Well, this coming Wednesday is 3 weeks. Also, radiation involves "prep work" (which I'll describe later), and my body shape cannot drastically change in this time. This means that once the prep is done, we can no longer inflate the tissue expanders. Guess when she wanted to start prep work? Today! Those 4 preliminary appointments I talked about? Baloney. Or bologna.

I am very surprised that this is happening so soon, and I really wish we could have gotten that last fill in next week. When we talked to the plastic surgeon at our last appointment, we really thought we would be able to get at least one more fill in by the time radiation started. But what could I do? Obviously, the treatment is the most important thing we have to worry about.

Unfortunately, I'll be stuck with these small, unbalanced boobs for a few months. The worst part? I can't go shopping!!! Really, I can't justify buying clothes that I know aren't going to fit properly in another few months. On the other hand, I'll be happy to be done with treatment. Also, my incisions will have more time to heal before we start going to crazy with the inflation. And let's face it - anything worth doing is worth overdoing, so I've got a ways to go :-)

So, onto the prep work. Radiation is a very targeted, high-energy beam that is directed at certain areas where cancer is likely to fester or recur. This includes the lymph node area, mammary glands, the chest wall, etc. Just like chemo, it kills both healthy cells and cancer cells, so it's important to make sure it's pinpointed to the right area.

Today they did a CAT scan of my chest to view my anatomy to determine where the beams may be directed and where they could possibly hit organs or other good tissue that we want to avoid. It was pretty interesting - The Zapper spoke about how some patients have "perfect" anatomy, and some have not-so-desirable anatomy. So, if the heart is too close to the breast tissue, for example, it makes positioning the beam very difficult.

I had to lie with my arms above my head for about 30-40 minutes, so it's really good that my range of motion is restored. It strained a bit, but I wasn't terribly uncomfortable. The techs were very careful about positioning my body just so. They made small markings all over my body for the scan, and then after the calculations were done I got tattooed. Oh yes, you read that right. I was hoping for a big read heart that said "MOM", but instead they are tiny dots that are no bigger than the period at the end of a sentence. :-( First, it was the polka dots not covering my incisions, and now this. I never get my way.

Anyway, the tattoos are where the beam is going to enter my body, so they are a little more appropriate. I think there are four of them.

My next appointment is the "dry run" appointment, where they'll go over the kinds of things I'll need to manage side effects, and position my body for the treatment without actually administering treatment. That happens not on this Friday, but next Friday. Then, the following Tuesday is my first treatment.

And now for the beer countdown... 1 more day to go! I've fielded lots of questions about what my first beer is going to be. I joked with my dad that if this was him, it would be easy - a Miller Lite! But for a true beer connoisseur (sorry, Dad), how will I know today what beer I want tomorrow? I pretty much know that it will be one of two beers, but I just don't know which one at this point. You'll just have to read tomorrow to find out.

Homegrown

Friday was my first tissue expander fill at the plastic surgeon's office. Remember how I wondered how he would know where to inject the saline? It was the weirdest thing!!!

He pulled out this contraption about the size of a film canister. It was plastic and tube-like with a magnet in the center. He placed it on my skin toward the top of the expander, and it moved toward the direction of the port! It was pretty cool-looking. I remember when he showed us the tissue expander, it had a circle at the top of it with a gel-like plastic piece covering a metal disc. That metal disc is what the magnet was targeting.

He marked an "X" over each port with a black Sharpie. He cleaned the area with iodine and the nurse brought out a bag of saline, a syringe, and a needle all attached together. He poked the needle through my skin and through the port. He wasn't sure if I would feel it (I did!). It stung a little. But when he broke through the port, that kind of hurt a bit. Think of someone popping through a thick membrane under your skin. Ouch! They wanted me to tell them when I felt pressure, which is a signal for them to stop. This resulted in having 50 cc's injected on my right side, and 35 cc's on the left side. It's okay for them to be a little out of balance at this stage (he inflated them differently during surgery, too). After that, I got two little band-aids to cover the needle site and that was it.

I felt a little bit of pressure and tightness immediately. Over the next couple of days, there was some muscle pain in my chest and in my back. I think the back muscles feel tension because my shoulders sometimes roll forward or up unnaturally. Already, though, I feel mostly like I did on Thursday. That is, I kind of felt worse on Friday and Saturday, but it's feeling better now. It felt a little bit like a "setback", but I know that expanding the tissue will eventually be a step forward.

It's amazing what we women do to look beuatiful ;-)

Today Rusty and I did something we haven't done in a LONG TIME. Don't be gross. We brewed beer! Remember my post a week or so ago about how Rusty harvested our hops? Well, I was really itching to do something that felt "normal" and we wanted to start using those hops as soon as possible, so we made a yummy IPA with LOTS of homegrown hops. It's been so long, we almost forgot how to do it. Rusty took some pictures. He thinks if you put in enough pictures you barely have to write anything.

Here's a picture of me grinding the grain. This is the first time we've been able to use this grinder that we bought many months ago:

And here's the beer!


It should be ready to drink in about 4 weeks. Two weeks in the fermenter, 2 weeks in the bottle. If I know us, we'll try it at 3 weeks, but it probably won't be carbonated enough. That's never stopped us from trying, though.

So, it clearly won't be ready to be my first beer in three weeks. WHICH IS IN 2 DAYS! Oh, I can't wait.

Getting Better All the Time

I know it's been awhile since I've written. Every day continues to be my "best day" yet. On Tuesday, I had the last of the drains pulled (yay!). Now that I've got that "off my chest" (ha ha), let me tell you a bit about the drains.

After surgery, there is a buildup of fluid at the site. This is a normal part of the healing process, but if it were left unchecked the swelling would be pretty unmanageable. It is standard practice with mastectomy patients to put at least one drain in the breast area. It's a flexible tube about 3/8" wide (kind of like the airline hose for fish tanks) that goes roughly toward the center of the chest, following the shape of the breast (in my case, outlining the tissue expander), then out a hole in my side. This tube is connected to a clear rubber bulb that kind of resembles a hand grenade. The bulb is compressed to provide suction that helps the fluid drain out of the body and into the bulb.

At least twice a day, or when the bulb is about half full, we had to empty the bulb and record the volume of the fluid, being careful not to keep it exposed to air for too long. When the volume of fluid draining from the site got down to 20-30 ml per day, it was ready to come out. The drains can also be a source of infection, so my plastic surgeon said that after 2 weeks, if they weren't draining less than 20-30 ml per day, they were coming out anyway. Then, if there continued to be excess fluid buildup in the area, he would have to remove it with a needle. I read about this one woman who had a drain in for 12 weeks. By the time it was "ready" she needed general anesthesia to get it out. I also read about a woman whose drains collected 60 ml of fluid per day for 3 weeks, until finally her doctor took them out anyway (to prevent infection). She was fine, and didn't experience any swelling.

So, by Tuesday, my last drain was producing about 28 ml of fluid, and it had been slowly declining (from about 33 ml on Friday). I was convinced that if they just took the darn thing out, everything would be fine. And it has been. I was so happy when that thing was gone. I had to pin them to the top of my pants or my shirt, so it was pretty unsightly. I didn't want to go outside with them because they're gross, so I mainly confined myself to the house except for doctor's appointments. When the drain was gone on Tuesday, I went for a long walk with my coworker who came to visit and then Rusty and I went out to dinner that night. I felt like a new woman!

Since then, I've started to move around a bit more. I drove a little bit on Wednesday with my mom. It wasn't bad. I definitely felt safe, but my muscles hurt when I had to turn the wheel while the car was moving very slowly (like when you do a three point turn, or back out of a car space). I also did a little yoga yesterday! I have a DVD that is designed specifically for mastectomy patients. The poses are nothing like what I used to be able to do, all of them are restorative poses, but they really provided a lot of stretching to the arm area. It felt good and I can already notice the difference in my muscles and range of motion.

Today I go for my first post-surgery expander fill! I'm a little nervous. It is probably going to hurt a bit - they told me to take Tylenol before I get to the office and then I can move to the "hard stuff" if I have to. I'm also curious to see how the doctor knows where the port is to insert the needle, and if they'll numb the area first.

I continue to anxiously await my first beer. I can't have one until my antibiotics are gone, and I take my last dose around 2 PM on Monday and I'll get to have my first beer on Tuesday. So, I guess that makes it 4 more days. I swear I don't have a problem, I just LOVE beer :-)

Hi!

I couldn't think of a good subject for today's post, because I don't really have a theme or a story to relay. Usually, when I send an e-mail to a friend with no purpose, I use a subject of "Hi!" so I figured that would be appropriate.

So much has happened in the last week and a half, and there were several times that I thought something would be really funny to write in the blog, but I was in no mood to be in front of a laptop. I finally feel like things are getting back to normal (as normal as things can be with two tubes and grenade-shaped pouches coming out of my sides). I thought today would be a good day to share some random tidbits from the last couple of weeks.

~ My Boob Casts ~

A couple of weeks ago, remember how I relayed my idea for how to "remember" my boobs? Well, I did it! Rusty and I made two casts of my upper torso area. Some may think that this is weird (and you're welcome to have that opinion), but once the idea was in my head I would never forgive myself if I didn't do this.

When I was in high school, one of the art projects I completed in my senior year art class was a mask. It used basically the exact same procedure and materials as my boob cast, so I was pretty sure it would work well. I did a little googling to refresh my memory, and I found that this is actually a somewhat common project for expectant mothers (except they cast their whole belly, obviously). As neat as that sounds, let's just say I'm not planning to make a cast of my tummy any time soon ;-)

Anyway, Rusty and I began our little art project in the kitchen by placing an old vinyl shower curtain on the floor (it can be a bit messy!). I then put a good slap of Crisco over my skin to prevent the plaster from sticking (imagine pulling dried plaster off your nipples - ouch!). Previously, I purchased a 20 lb. box of gauze strips coated in Plaster of Paris (I can probably make a DOZEN extra casts out of this box). The basic idea is to dip the strips in warm water and place them on the "subject" criss-crossing in multiple layers. After about 30 minutes from the time the first strip is placed, the cast pulls away from the skin and is ready to be removed. Over the next week, it cures, and I will probably coat it with some kind of lacquer and decorate it at some point.

Here is the result:


I hope this doesn't bother you (but it doesn't bother me). Besides, it's not like you're looking at my boobs. Right now I have no boobs. ;-)

~ My Husband ~

Not that I didn't expect this... but throughout this whole wild ride, Rusty has been a true gem. He has worn many hats - cook, cheerleader, chauffeur, personal assistant, blogger, maid, gardener, and nagger (when it's time to eat and I have no appetite), just to name a few. He has had to do virtually everything for me thus far, and he doesn't complain. More importantly, he also is very good at doing all of these things - he doesn't get grossed out when it's time to empty the drains or change the dressings. He also doesn't flinch when we look at my incisions to make sure they're healing properly.

One thing that's kind of cute is he gets mad when my eating schedule gets messed up, so he tries to reserve the right to refuse when people come over, lest they hang around past meal time.

As I'm writing about him, I keep coming up with things he does that should fall under other headings. I could write this entire blog post about all the things he's done, but I guess the best way to do this is just to write about him everywhere :-) He really is a total sweetheart.

~ My Garden ~

One thing I really regret about being in recovery at this particular moment is that my garden is currently exploding with tomatoes and peppers. Normally, this would probably be the weekend when I make "Grandpa's Salsa". It's an all-day affair where I would harvest all of the ripe tomatoes and peppers, chopping about a gallon (YES, a gallon) of tomatoes and about 4-6 cups of hot peppers and make this yummy delicious salsa that gets canned and processed and stored in my basement so I can enjoy the garden all year 'round. My friend Sarah gave me this recipe a few years back. It's her grandfather's salsa and it's the best I've ever had.

Anyway, unfortunately, this isn't going to happen this year. BUT, instead of letting the tomatoes rot on the vine, Rusty has been diligently going outside daily to harvest them. BTW, when I'm ready for visitors again, if you see a bowlful of tomatoes and peppers and you want them, PLEASE TAKE SOME! Here is what Rusty harvested over the last couple of days:


We also happen to have an explosion of hops. Taking care of these is a very tedious process (I should know, last year Rusty was away and I had to do this by myself!). The hops need to be trimmed from the vine (they kind of grow like grapes, I guess, but you can't trim them off in bunches) and then slowly dried in the oven. Rusty took care of one of the plants yesterday, and then did the other three today. Here is a pile of un-dried hops:


And here they are after they've been dried and bagged:


I simply cannot wait until we're ready to brew again. Hell, I'd settle for just drinking beer at this point... ;-)

~ My Poopy Problems ~

Anyone who works with me will probably laugh at that heading. I used to have the reputation of being totally intolerant of potty humor (maybe this comes from marrying a man who lived in a fraternity throughout college - I think I heard a lifetime's worth of potty humor in about 4 years). Well, when you encounter everything I have over the last 5 months, you learn really quickly that it does you no good to be embarrassed about the body. You meet countless doctors that want to touch your boobs and talk about them and what you're going to do with them. You sit in a chair with a needle in your arm as a chemo nurse talks about how you may need both a laxative and an anti-diarrhea medication over the next four months. You get hot flashes just about anywhere (boy am I glad THAT's over). Etc, etc.

So, anyway, last week's digestive issues were absolutely awful. I can honestly say that what I endured was worse than chemo. Really. I had sporadic and intense abdominal cramping that was so miserable. I couldn't even sleep through an entire night. And poor Rusty. I can only imagine how helpless he felt as I sat there with frequent abdominal pain, no appetite, and a grimace on my face. (One of the symptoms of C-Dif is loss of appetite or anorexia.) Let me tell you - when I don't want to eat, there is definitely something wrong. He tried to make me eat something, and he was more than willing to prepare anything I wanted to eat if it appealed to me.

On Friday, when I took the first dose of the antibiotic, I told myself that I wanted to start feeling better by today (Sunday). That may sound ridiculous, but it gave me a sense of control over how I felt. I set a goal for myself, just like anything else. To my surprise, I was already doing better by Saturday morning. I slept the entire previous night without having to get up to go to the bathroom (the previous night I had woken up 4 times, which was an improvement over the 10-12 times the night before - I am NOT exaggerating). Today, I'm back eating solid food and I even have a craving for Chinese takeout, which we'll have tonight. Yay!!!!

I also eat lots of yogurt so that my digestive tract can be repopulated with good bacteria to restore order (it's also essential to keep the C-Dif in check to prevent a recurrence). When I'm feeling silly, I give the bacteria a pep talk. Oh yes, it's crazy, but think about it - these are living things I'm digesting and these living things have an important job ahead of them.

~ What Lies Ahead ~

For the short term, I've got a few appointments next week with the plastic surgeon to remove the drains, and with Mr. Wizard to review my progress and to go over the pathology results of the surgery. I already know the size of the tumor, and I know that there were 3 of 11 nodes positive. (I'll write more about that after we have a chance to discuss this with Mr. Wizard.) Before radiation begins, the plastic surgeon is going to inflate the tissue expanders as much as possible to stretch my muscles and skin for the implants. So, over the next month, I'll be like a 13 year-old going through puberty. This is easier said than done - based on how I feel now, I can only imagine the discomfort involved. This has to be done at a pace that I can tolerate. I also have a meeting with The Zapper at the end of September to go over the course of treatment for radiation. Then, 3-6 months after radiation, I'll have the implants put in.

And I think that's about it for today. Oh, actually, two funny things I thought of as I was finishing this off...

My visiting nurse got a real kick out of me the other day as I jokingly read the warnings on my newest prescription to get rid of the C-dif. "Do not take while breastfeeding". ;-)

Also, I got a card from Rusty's parents that made me LMAO (for Grandma - Laugh My heAd Off, sort of). It reads "Get Well Soon! ... the entire beer industry is counting on you!)". Unfortunately, I am not allowed to drink until the antibiotics are done. Sigh. Just when I feel good enough for a beer, I have to wait 8 days to have one!! You should all have one (or two...) for me. :-)

A Colitis Inside Us

Dear faithful readers, I'm back. But I'm not doing as well as I should be. First, let me say that I'm progressing well. I'm off pain medication, my drains aren't pissing me off too much, and my range of motion is pretty good. But then there's the colitis...

For those of you who saw me last weekend, this will totally surprise you. I was actually doing great then. For those of you who've seen me this week, this will serve as an explanation for what was going on. Late Sunday night/early Monday morning I got up in the middle of the night and "had to go". It hasn't stopped since. Seriously, folks. I know it's kind of gross, but I have had persistent digestive issues that have been quite painful and uncomfortable and have made sleeping pretty difficult. At first, it seemed like a mild reaction to the antibiotics. I developed a mild fever, which is always a concern because it could indicate infection with the drains, but it went away (and the drains looked great).

We figured it was just a side affect of the antibiotics that would eventually pass (and I was due to finish them yesterday). Well, when I went to see the oncological surgeon for a post-op visit, he was concerned that it could be more serious. He asked a nurse to collect a "sample". Luckily, I was able to produce one quite readily. I can't even believe I'm writing this... They got back to me today with the results - I have C. Dif, aka Clostridium Difficile Colitis aka Antibiotic-Associated Colitis.

Normal, healthy people have this bacterium in small amounts. It is kept in line by the various other "good" bacteria in the colon. When a patient has to take antibiotics, the good bacteria can be killed, leaving the C. Dif to grow unchecked. What results is terribly painful abdominal cramps, frequent trips to the bathroom, and a generally gross feeling. I also have no appetite. It's a common symptom, but part of me wonders if this is totally intellectual because I no longer think of what food tastes like, but of what it does to me once it's been swallowed.

So, the treatment is to take another antibiotic (ironic, isn't it?) to kill the bad bacterium and to replace all of the fluids and electrolytes I've been losing, to eat what I feel I can and to slowly introduce the foods that right now totally disgust me.

To anyone who is thinking of bringing food or visiting - please wait until I can spend more than 15 minutes in your presence without getting up to go to the bathroom :-)

When I'm feeling better I promise to give a happier update.

A long overdue update

We are probably way over-due for an update, so here you are:

Megan's recovery is progressing nicely. Yesterday we met with Dr. McSteamy for a follow-up and everything is running as smoothly as can be expected. One of Megan's drains was removed (only 2 left), so that's a good thing. In the weeks leading up to Megan's surgery, Dr. McSteamy sufficiently scared us into being incredibly deliberate with all-things-drain-care related and so far it's paying off. He remarked that it was obvious we were taking his earlier recommendations seriously as each of the drains, skin around the drains and incisions were being well-cared for. We've got another appointment with him on Friday and with a little bit of luck, one more will be ready to be removed.

That all said, Megan hasn't been feeling as well as she would like. She's taking an antibiotic that doesn't exactly agree with her, but she will be done with the entire prescription by this time tomorrow, so at least the end is in sight.

And now, just because Jocelyn asked, here's another Tale from the hospital:

I already mentioned that first thing on Wednesday morning Megan met with Dr. McSteamy. The purpose of that quick visit was for McSteamy to draw on Megan his recommended "entry points" for the oncological surgeon to use as guidance. Naturally, the oncological surgeon's job is to remove the cancer, but, as McSteamy explained, there are a number of ways that he can do that and these markings would be McSteamy's preference in terms of making for the best reconstruction. Why would I possibly want to write about this? Well, it was kind of amusing to see.

Dr. McSteamy would one moment be looking at Megan from several feet away, thumb raised upwards, eyes squinted, like Picasso working on his next masterpiece. Without warning, he would morph into Bill Belichick drawing his latest pass route, only Megan's chest served as the white board. There's Randy Moss and Wes Welker setting up on each sideline preparing to run posting routes. In the backfield, I could see Sammy Morris and Lawrence Maroney preparing for a handoff or a quick out. And somewhere in the cleavage is Tom Brady, and that can't be good the way he's grabbing his leg.

Following surgery (and again at yesterday's appointment), Dr. McSteamy was full of enthusiasm and very happy with both his work, and the work that the oncological surgeon did based on his playbook/cubist masterpiece. Touchdown!!!!

Tales from the hospital

I was at UMass Memorial from a little before 7:30 AM on Wednesday, 9/10, until a little after 12:30 PM on 9/11 when Megan was discharged. I was fortunate to be allowed to spend the night, and as a result of my non-stop exposure to Megan’s care, I got a wonderful view into the UMass medical system. I can say, without a doubt, that the level of care they provided was great, though we knew that would be the case from our previous experiences with Megan’s team of doctors. Fortunately, I can also say that the bed-side manner exhibited was fantastic (something you just don’t know about until you get there). There were smiles from the staff everywhere and there were more than a few moments where a funny comment or re-assuring statement was made that made Megan and I smile (of course, some of Megan’s smiling could probably be attributed to the morphine drip, but I digress). Here, in no particular order, are some of the “highlights” that stuck with me:

Jess, a registered nurse, after offering for me to spend the night in Megan's hospital room, and I replied that that'd be great and I'd be happy to just sleep in the chair I was already sitting in: "No way! No one's sleeping in a chair on my shift!" (She promptly supplied a mostly comfortable roll-away cot for me for the evening)

Dr. Phong, a resident on the surgeon staff after asking who the bears with Megan were and being informed they were named Bea and Foolish Heart: "Well, that works for me!"

Kelly, a registered nurse, during the graveyard shift of Megan's overnight after being informed that Megan was finally able to 'make pee!': "YAAAAAAAY!" (This is exactly the kind of response complete with child-like enthusiasm that I'd already made just moments earlier).

Kelly, prior to what I shall now refer to as the YAY-incident while introducing herself, after I informed her to please tell me to get out of the way if I’m sitting where I shouldn’t be or are otherwise in the way: “You’re fine, and Jess already told me you’re eager to help and have been a big help, so don’t you worry.”

Dr Mustafa, a resident on the plastics staff, while examining Megan's incisions and remarking that the covers at this point were 'more decorative than functional', to which Megan replied "then why didn't I get polka-dots?": Big grin and then "I'm not sure if polka-dot gauze is covered by your insurance."

The anesthesiologist, after placing Bea high above the operating room table so Megan could look at her, to which she said "She's going to help": "How's she going to help with her hands always pressed together like that?" (Megan's reply? "That's what the bee is for!")

Pat, a recovery room nurse, while looking at Megan's chart: "Hmmm… I know a Megan Lally... Megan!" (Yup, Pat knew Megan from her previous job at Ameriprise and a familiar face was exactly what Megan needed coming out of her sleep. Small world, eh?)

Home is where the heart is

Megan is home!

At about 12:30 PM today after a wonderful hospital-food meal of chicken pot pie and chocolate mousse, Megan was given the green light to be discharged. It's just as well because they didn't have the Food Network or HG TV (these will undoubtedly be staples of Megan's recovery).

She is now home, wearing my big ugly shirts and resting comfortably in a big comfy chair surrounded by bears. YAY!

a VERY brief update

I know some of you probably read my first post and then around 1:30 starting hitting refresh, so I thought a brief update was in order:

We've spoken to both the Oncological surgeon and the Plastic surgeon. Both felt their piece of the surgery went great and were happy with their results. Dr. McSteamy started his portion a little later than anticipated, hence the delay in news.

Megan has just been moved to the recovery room where she'll be for the next couple hours before being moved to her room for the evening at which point we'll be able to see her.

We'll provide more details later, but I wanted to give an update anyway, however brief.

and away we go...

It'd be nice if my first foray into Megan's blogging world consisted of something witty and amusing as my and your favorite blogger has been known to write, but for now it'll be just the facts, ma'am.

I, and Mom and Dad Lally just saw (er, rolled?) Megan off to meet with her surgeon and away we go. I'm now in the waiting room and thought it was time for my first update.

Megan checked-in right at 7:30. After a quick visit with Dr. McSteamy Tabooley, Megan was ready. Surgery is expected to occur from 9:30AM (which is right about now) until 1:30PM. Given the amount of anesthesia that will be administered it will probably be some time after that before Megan is out of the recovery room. We're expecting that Megan will spend the night, but the nurse who took care of all her paperwork noted that it will be more of a 'game-time' decision.

Megan has been in great spirits all things considered, but I don't expect you to take my word for it, so how about some photographic proof?



Here is my lovely Wife prior to surgery with a familiar friend you'll know from previous posts. Megan was especially happy to find out that her little friend, Bea, was also welcome into the operating room with her, as long as she was also 'checked-in'.


Here you can see Bea has been fitted with her own identification bracelet, which is by no coincidence identical to Megan's.


On a more personal note, I'd like to thank all of you for your thoughts, prayers, well-wishes, and so on. You have all truly been pillars of strength for Megan and I and it has certainly not gone unnoticed. Please keep it up!

I guess that's about all for now. I'll be sure to give at least one other update a little later in the day once I have more to share.

Bye, Boobs!

Today I did a few last minute things. I had lunch with a friend at one of my favorite places in Worcester. I had a massage. Marlena put pink balloons in the room. It was so cute! And I felt incredibly special. It made me laugh. Of course, there were about a dozen other things that we talked about that made us laugh. It was a nice way to prepare physically and mentally for tomorrow.

Of course, while I was at my massage, the hospital called to confirm my surgery and notify me when I should arrive. Luckily, they know how to leave messages :-) I am to arrive at the hospital at 7:30 AM in the morning. I don't know exactly when my surgery is, but feel free to send me good thoughts and vibes starting at 7:30 and ending around 5:00 PM. You know, just to make sure. ;-)

I promise to have Rusty update the blog. Thank you all for everything.

Smile When You Feel Pain!!!

Don't worry, that title doesn't mean what you think it does. I'm not in pain. Today was the BEST day I've had in a loooong time. Why? Everything. There wasn't one thing that made it a great day, just lots of little things.

It actually started during the weekend. This was supposed to be my "swan song", if you will. Rusty and I planned to do all sorts of fun things that we couldn't do when I was recovering. And we did. I can't possibly focus on every great thing I did because I'd be writing this post forever. But, I'll give a quick rundown...

- Brimfield with Sarah. It was vintage. I don't think we've done the Brimfield trip like that in a few years. My legs are still sore from walking all day. It was delightful.

- Dinner with Rusty's parents on Saturday evening. They came all the way from Maine just to see us. It was so relaxed. The food was great, the company was even better, and they gave me the most thoughtful and delightful basket full of all kinds of goodies that I'll use when I'm recovering from surgery.

- Fabric shopping.

- Making chili.

- Boob Cast x 2 (more about that later).

- Going to the movies.

Rusty and I went to see Dark Knight (I know, we're a bit behind the curve on that one). The movie theater has a full bar where you can also get food. We had some beer and some appetizers and we were enjoying ourselves, except the bartender was a little nosy. You could tell he had nothing better to do but listen to us talk and try to interject every once in awhile (we were the only people there). Okay, you can only resist that for so long, so we gave in. We started talking to him a bit and he told us how he was finishing up college and he was studying computers. He was hoping to finish soon. He was getting a discount on the tuition because his mom worked at the college but she may have to quit her job soon because she was going through breast cancer treatment.

Wow.

It turns out she has the same surgeon, probably the same oncologist, and by my calculations she probably was diagnosed around the same time as me. It was weird, but somehow it comforted me. Instead of being mad like I usually am when someone stops me in the grocery store or Staples to talk to me about cancer, I was oddly serene and happy about the whole thing. Anyway, the movie was great.

Now, onto today. Today was very difficult at work. I couldn't focus on anything. I was very distracted and I was trying to wrap things up as best I could. I stayed a little late because I had Pilates class today (my last class for a long time) and the timing works out so that I leave work between 6:00 and 6:30 and get to the class in Worcester around 7:15. Around 5:45 the phone started ringing. And ringing.

One sister, two friends, two aunts, two grandmothers, and a partridge in a pear tree. :-) Not that I'm complaining. Everyone is wishing me well for my surgery. Every time someone calls me it makes me smile. I know it sounds corny, but it really does make me feel so special.

So, tonight was my last Pilates class. Right after I finished chemo, I started doing Pilates again (I stopped basically right after I got diagnosed, which was probably a mistake, but I know I definitely did not have the energy to do it all through chemo). It's really helped me build up my strength, establish a workout routine, and feel like I'm really getting healthy. I absolutely love it love it love it.

Anyway, I don't want my Pilates teacher to worry about me, so I decided to tell her at the end of class that this would be my last class for quite some time. I told her that I was going for a mastectomy and she gave me a big hug and wanted to get my contact info. Until this day, my Pilates teacher of 8 months-ish didn't even know my name. Now she wants to give me a Pilates DVD for breast cancer patients and visit me after I'm feeling better. Wow! It was awesome. I told her how important her class was for me me and my recovery and how my core strength is going to be really important after surgery (it's true... I read it on the internet).

The best part was when she told me that I was inspiring to her because every time she looked at me I was smiling. I laughed and reminded her that's because she always says, "Smile when you feel pain!"

Anyway, I have let go quite a bit and things have been really good. Tomorrow, the hospital is supposed to tell me when my surgery is going to be on Wednesday. I will post it when I know. I've arranged for Rusty to guest blog on the day of the surgery, so everyone can get an update. I appreciate everyone's good thoughts and well wishes, and everything. Really.

Be Careful What You Wish For...

I'm not sure if I've used that title before, but that sure sounds good. Before I get to the meat of the story, I just wanted to say that about a month ago, I was playing with the settings on my blog and I enabled anonymous commenting. What does that mean to you? Well, a few of you have mentioned that you weren't able to set things up to reply to blog posts, so hopefully this should make it easier for you. Sorry it took me so long. And please don't say mean things anonymously. ;-)

Anyway, so on to the title of this blog post... well, my friend Christina was saying that she has been disappointed that I haven't blogged in awhile (she even remembered the date of my last post!). So, I decided that I would get off my non-blogging butt and write something. Sorry, Christina, I hope you're not mad. Now you get to be the subject of the post... :-)

Every year, Rusty and I throw a Labor-Free Labor Day Party on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend. It's the perfect day to have it because we have one day to prepare for it and one day to clean up after it (though sometimes I feel like I could use a whole week to clean up after it). Anyway, this year it was kind of tough, because as you probably know it took forever to get a date for the surgery. I didn't want to invite everyone over if I was going to be recovering, but we were afraid that if we waited until the last minute, someone else would have a party.

But, it was totally out of our control and that's exactly what happened. One of Rusty's fraternity brothers had a party at his home in Rhode Island from Sunday to Monday of Labor Day weekend. This was kind of a blessing, because I wasn't really up for hosting 40+ people this year (which is about how many people we can expect to show up at various points during the day). So, we did have a much smaller party with close friends. If you didn't get invited I apologize. But just think, if you got invited I might be spending this blog post teasing you. :-)

So, anyway, one of the families we invited was Christina, her husband, and their two children. I spoke to her a couple of days before the party just to make sure she knew that her children were welcome to come, and I was looking forward to seeing them at the party. Then came the day of the party. I was kind of surprised when they didn't show by 3 or 4 o'clock, then at one point I realized it was 9 o'clock at night (yes, I do remember 9 o'clock at night) and they never came. I was a little disappointed but I figured that it was such a nice day they maybe decided to do something else with their children that day.

The next morning after I finally got out of bed, Rusty and I went out for breakfast and came back to take on the task of the Big Cleanup. Honestly, it wasn't that bad because Rusty cleaned up most of it the night before, but there was still a bit left to do. We were carrying a few things inside, when Rusty said,

"Hey, is that Christina?"

It took me a few seconds to get it, but he said "Oh, this is funny." They were getting out of the car, and then Rusty and I just started laughing. I yelled from the back yard,

"You guys realize our party was yesterday, right?"

I think they initially thought we were kidding. It was rather amusing. That's never happened to me before, but I can kind of see how it could happen. It was a Labor Day party, after all, and it wasn't exactly on Labor Day. We had a good laugh. Actually, we laughed for quite some time.

It's not exactly close for them, so they couldn't just say "oops, my bad" and go home. Well, we wouldn't let them do that, anyway. I couldn't imagine them coming all this way and then turning around and going back. So we had some lunch (BTW, the bread was awesome!), hung out and chatted for a couple of hours, and then they went home. As it is, I told them we would never have been able to enjoy their company as much at the actual party because there are SO many people to talk to and mingle with and I'm so bad at doing that anyway.

Christina did say that she wanted me to tell everyone that she didn't just blow us all off, so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone... She did complain that I hadn't written in awhile (check!) and she did want me to tell everyone that was at the party (check!). And now there's a little bit of public humiliation thrown in for good measure :-)

On a completely separate topic, I think I/we have decided how to say goodbye to my boobs. I've decided to participate as a dancer in an amateur night at a strip club.

JUST KIDDING :-) I think my mom just had a heart attack. My grandma probably did, too.

Anyway, it was Rusty's idea, but it was actually something I've also been thinking about. Back when I was in high school, one of my art projects was to make a Plaster of Paris cast of my face. I'm going to cast my boobs! This is way better than pictures because I'll always have a three-dimensional representation of them. I ordered the supplies, and hopefully I'll have it for this weekend. I don't really want to wait until the last day to do it.

So, thanks for reading, and I hope you're not mad, Christina.

Save the Date!

That title is my sick sense of humor at work - no, it's not a wedding... it's my surgery date! I finally have a date for my surgery. It's September 10, 2008. It was not easy getting here. In fact, just last week, I had another test of my patience...

Recall that I thought I was going to get my date back on August 4th (over 2 weeks ago). Then, when that didn't pan out, I was supposed to find out by the end of last week. So, I decided to wait and be patient. I thought about it a lot, but I tried not to give in to the temptation to call or e-mail to find out what was going on.

Then, on Friday, I remembered that I had to schedule an appointment at the breast cancer paraphernalia store. The store, called the "Women's Image Center" is a store that sells everything that a breast cancer patient and survivor would need. They have wigs and headscarves, they have fake boobs, they have bathing suits with fake boobs, and they have "post-surgical" garments, which is what I need. I'm getting a surgical camisole, which is something I'm supposed to wear after surgery. Honestly, I don't know why I can't just wear a tank top, but I'm sure I'll figure that out soon enough. I will probably also have to get a compression sleeve, which is something that fits tight around my arm to prevent buildup of lymph fluid.

Anyway, last Friday I called the breast cancer paraphernalia store to schedule an appointment, and they asked me when my surgery date was. Every time someone asks me that, I want to scream. Not at them, just at the situation. Anyway, without screaming, I told them that I thought the date was September 10th, but that I still had to confirm. So, we scheduled an appointment for sometime next week and I decided that I now have a reason to bug my surgeon's office.

So, late Friday afternoon I e-mailed the Energizer Bunny to explain the situation and asked if there was an update on my surgery date.

Her reply?

Well, it was something to the effect of "Oh, don't worry about the exact date, just get the camisole whenever it's convenient for you."

Um, what? Don't worry? Listen lady, I'm beyond worried, here. I'm borderline angry. But what do you do? Do I call her and yell at her? No. I just got all mad and cried. I was very upset.

Then, I went to dinner with two friends and forgot all about it over a few beers and some good conversation. I was upset, but there was nothing I could really do about it. I did promise myself, however, that I would NOT let Monday go by without calling and finding out what the situation was.

Then, Monday, my surgeon's secretary called me and informed me that the plastic surgeon (Tabbouleh McSteamy) and his secretary were both out last week, so she couldn't check his schedule. BUT, she promised me that she would get back to me yesterday or today. And here we are.

So, the surgery is in just about three weeks. I still have to figure out how to say goodbye to my boobs.

My Name is Megan, and I'm a Control Freak

Today we had a meeting with the surgeon. Although I've fielded some suggestions, nothing quite conveys the sense of his personality and I'm still not really sure what to give him as a nickname. Oh well.

The whole point of today was to review the surgery, get me prepared, and I thought we were supposed to schedule the date. This last point is something I've really been hoping to accomplish. You see, recovery is going to take quite some time, and I'm a very busy lady. If I'm going to be out of commission for a month, I'd like to know exactly which month that will be. That didn't happen today, and I kind of got worked up about it.

Let's take a step back. About a month ago (give or take), I decided that I am going to have a bilateral mastectomy. Yes, I am going to have both of my boobs surgically removed. It wasn't an easy decision to make, especially for someone so notoriously bad at making decisions. I don't like making irreversible decisions, and this is one that I cannot take back once it's done.

Coming to this decision was different for me. I did lots of research and thought a lot about it, and I was getting nowhere. Everyone offered their opinion, and it was basically the same, but stewing about it wasn't helping. Then, I stopped thinking about it. Eventually I came to realize that "beating" cancer wasn't something that concerned me. People would say things like "I know you'll beat this," or "You're going to fight this," or whatever. And these words sounded strange to me (not that I mind people saying this - I appreciate the support and the vote of confidence!). But to me, there was never any question about whether or not I would "beat" it. At no point did I feel like I was going to die. The real question was, what was going to happen afterward? What would my life be like? Would it come back? When?

When I allowed myself to stop thinking about it and to start feeling about it, I knew that my primary focus was preventing this from ever happening again. And really, a bilateral mastectomy is the best way to do that. In addition, I have some pretty big concerns about getting lymphedema. If I got cancer in the other breast (and that's where it's most likely to come back, by the way...) there is a risk that I would have to have the lymph nodes removed in that arm, too. It's bad enough having it in one arm - I am immensely fearful of having it in both of my arms. And another thing... even though I had nearly a complete response to the chemo, my surgeon had concerns about other calcifications in my breast that would cause him to lean toward a mastectomy over a lumpectomy. Honestly, once I am losing one, it seems kind of strange to keep the other one, especially considering that it would be more likely to return in the opposite breast.

And you know what? I'm tired of thinking about it. I feel confident that one day, I will be able to look at myself in the mirror and get used to the results. I don't know if I could ever not think about cancer if I knew that I didn't do everything possible to prevent it from recurring. It's been 4 months already and I haven't stopped thinking about it for a single second of a single day. It's like a background process in my brain, and I'm tired of it.

So, anyway, I've also decided to have reconstruction. Since I'm going to have radiation, the reconstruction cannot happen at the same time as the mastectomy. However, my plastic surgeon will place tissue expanders in my chest after the demolition as part of the same surgery. It's pretty neat - my surgeon will begin by removing my left breast and lymph nodes, and then when he moves to the other side, my plastic surgeon will begin immediately on the left side, placing the tissue expander in.

After the surgery, I will have 4 drains coming out of my chest for 2-4 weeks (called Jackson-Pratt or JP drains). These drains are used to remove fluid from the body (lymphatic fluid, and other stuff I don't remember) and it's all part of the healing process. When the amount of fluid that comes out of the drains daily is less than a certain threshold, I can have them removed. While the drains are in, I won't be going to work, and I probably won't be interested in socializing much. I'm also not allowed to shower while the drains are in, so I don't think people will be wanting to socialize with me, either. I think we'll really make the most of our Netflix subscription during those few weeks.

During this time, there are some exercises that I have to do to prevent tightness in my chest. As I understand it, these exercises will also help prevent lymphedema, so I'm going to pay a lot of attention to these.

Everyone in the surgeon's office thinks that the hard part is over, but I'm getting grossed out just thinking about all this drain business. I'm really not looking forward to it, and I can certainly point to this as something I'd really want to go through only once in my life.

So, about the scheduling of this fiasco... When I made my decision a month ago, I wanted to make sure everyone involved was aware because originally I was very adamantly against a mastectomy. So, I notified the surgeon's office of my decision and told them that we needed to schedule the surgery and coordinate with the plastic surgeon. When I met with the surgeon today, he said "Yeah, we'll have to choose a date that we're both available, we'll have to find out what his schedule is". Both of them are going on vacation in August. Are you F'ing kidding me? You mean no one did that a MONTH ago when I SPECIFICALLY ASKED about this?

I truly felt like today was the drop-dead date for when I would find out about the scheduling of my surgery. I mean, I have a life to plan here. Yes, I would drop everything to have this done, but is it too much to ask to have everyone open up their planners and put something down in ink (oh, and BTW, let me know as soon as possible)??? Do these people schedule their vacations at the last minute? No. What could I have done to move this along a little better? Kidnap them and with their planners and arrange a friggin' conference?

When I pressed (because I am a control freak, after all), the surgeon threw out a date of September 10th, but that really depends on the plastic surgeon's schedule. I really wish it would be sooner, but I've given up trying to have any influence over this since it's clearly not working.

On the way home, as I was bitching and moaning about the whole situation, I said "These people have to understand that I'm a control freak, and maybe they realize I need to have that". Yeah, I know, it's kind of funny. My mom reminded me that maybe it's me that should change instead of the rest of the world. I dunno, I think it would be easier changing everyone else...

At Last

Today was my last day of chemo. At last, no more toxic drugs pumped into my system at biweekly intervals.

Honestly, chemo was starting to wear on me. Medically, some of my counts were getting pretty bad. My hemoglobin was at 10.1, and I think they would not be able to treat me at 10 (though I thought they said that at 11...). I could see how it steadily went down over the course of my treatments. As a result, I've been getting short of breath, and I could feel my heart beating after just a small amount of exertion (think walking up a flight of stairs). My platelets were also pretty low - as evidenced by how long it takes me to stop the bleeding when I get a small cut. Interestingly, my white blood count was great and always has been. That means my immune system is doing well.

Emotionally, chemo is also starting to wear on me. It's frustrating being so tired. I can't really exercise, which I don't like. I have a hard time concentrating on things, and you should hear me try to say tongue twisters - I feel so stupid. The other day we were talking at the lunch table at work, and someone mentioned a TV show character, "Hoss". I was thinking they were talking about a certain character from the "Dukes of Hazzard" (one of my favorite shows when I was little - just ask my mom how I used to climb in & out of the car... :-) And then my co-workers reminded me that he was Boss. And I said, "Oh, right, Bog Hoss". Dammit!!! They laughed because I really meant "Boss Hog". I do the same thing when I'm typing. I still type lightning fast, but I mess up the letters sometimes and I don't even know it.

Anyway, that's pretty annoying. I'm so ready for chemo to be over, but I'm also scared about what's coming next... BTW, I am meeting with the surgeon on Monday, and I will know the date of my surgery. And I still don't have a nickname for him - I think "The Butcher" is a bit dark...

So, at my appointment with Mr. Wizard, we also took at the results of my MRI. They were good. The reading radiologist wrote that only "wisps" of the tumor could be seen. Which is funny, because now I have wisps in my boobs, but no wisps of hair in my head ;-) Mr. Wizard (who I haven't seen in awhile, because I've been working with his Nurse Practitioner), was thrilled that the tumor responded so well. He said they were so excited, and that studies show that patients with "complete responses" and near "complete responses" both do very very well. Presumably, this means low incidences of recurrence and all that jazz, though I have seen studies that show that when patients don't have surgery, the recurrence is actually higher. (This makes sense - just because it's not detectable, that doesn't mean there aren't lingering cells).

Mr. Wizard said that patients who do well and have a good attitude serve as an inspiration to them - and I quote "Especially someone with your joie de vivre". It almost made me cry. I told him that I was happy about the results, but quite honestly this is what I expected. Really, I did. That, and from the very first treatment, we saw that the tumor was responding well. To me, there was no other option. I was doing chemo to shrink the tumor. If it didn't work, I don't know how I would have reacted. Luckily, that wasn't an issue.

So, I went for my last treatment and had my favorite, fabulous nurse, and I got the last remaining room with a window. I am fortunate. I would probably have had a temper tantrum if I didn't get a window room. Again, luckily that wasn't an issue.

The actual chemo infusion was pretty uneventful. I fell asleep after the Benadryl (as usual). We talked, I had lunch. It was nice. At the end, my favorite nurse told me that I should stop by and say hello when I come back in four weeks. She almost looked like she was going to give me a hug, but I felt a little weird, so I didn't. Maybe it was because I was focusing on it and she really wasn't.

Anyway, after chemo we went to Gibby's Dairy for ice cream to celebrate the milestone. Mmm... Gibby's. I had a hot fudge sundae with nuts made with Snickers ice cream. Mmm... For once, I actually got the kiddie size, and it's perfect. In my mind, kiddie seems way too small, but every time I get a regular size I wind up with a bloated stomach and a sugar hangover.

So, that's it. Chemo done. Over. Now we've got to work on the next step.

RSS, Part Deux (or Trois)

Okay, so here's the long-awaited follow-on RSS post. (well, at least Laura is awaiting it :-) I'm going to use GReader, because I LOVE GReader (in Google We Trust).

Anyway, go to reader.google.com. You're going to have to sign up for a new account, or log in if you already have one. Go to my blog and scroll all the way to the bottom of the page. Not yet, you still have to read my post so you know what to do next. Click on the link that says "Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)", and you'll be brought to a new page that has a drop-down menu where you'll find "google". Click "Subscribe Now", and then you'll want to click "Add to Google Reader". Voila! You'll see about 10 of my most recent posts, and you can select "Mark all as read" to get past them, and from now on you'll get my new posts when you log into GReader.

Okay, no more tech talk. I can already see Grandma's eyes glazing over. She has a different kind of RSS feed - it's called the "Dad prints them out and brings them to Grandma's house" feed. It's very retro :-)

So, some of the blogs I've been reading regularly are "Dress A Day," "Sewing Divas," and "Behind the Seams." All are sewing-related blogs where the bloggers discuss patterns, give tutorials, show projects in progress, recently completed projects, etc. I've always enjoyed sewing. I even sewed my wedding dress:


Anyway, so I've been learning all of these new techniques and alterations, and I've found cool new fabric stores on the web. I've really become a sewing geek. And I've been really wanting to get back to actually sewing again, but here's my conundrum - I'll spend all this time working on clothing that is not going to fit me in another couple of months. It may be tough to appreciate if you've never tried to sew anything before, but bust size is crucial to the fit of a garment. In fact, I actually have to make special alterations to a pattern to get the garment to fit my bust properly, which takes a lot more time. After surgery, I'll end up with a different enough bust size that all those alterations will be garbage. Not all that motivating, is it?

Then, Jocelyn and I were talking about cute clothes at our favorite store (Ann Taylor Loft), and about how we covet the new clothes but want to avoid spending too much on new clothes. Then I had a eureka - I could make clothes for her, too! She spends lots of time knitting me things, and I don't do a darn thing to reciprocate, so I am starting on sewing more with the idea that she will be able to wear the clothes that I can't :-) I'm still in the beginning stages of my first shirt (with all my newfound sewing expertise that I've gathered on my favorite sewing blogs), but I'm really excited to be able to resume an activity that makes me so happy :-)

Anyway, I hope you can make use of the RSS feed info. And if you can't, Grandma, I hope you enjoyed hearing about the sewing ;-)

Update 1 on "The Joy of RSS"

As I was driving in this morning, I realized that although I described RSS, I never really explained how to get it working. Duh. Sorry about that. Then I saw Laura's comment and I realized maybe I should give an explanation on how to do it. I'm at work now and I don't quite have the time to write it up now, but I promise to give another update on instructions for using RSS with GReader. For those who are adventurous, go to reader.google.com and play around.

The Joy of RSS

Last week, I promised that I would tell you all about. If you're under 25, you probably learned about how to read an RSS feed before reading a book, so no need to go further. For everyone else, prepare to be rocked.

So, first of all, what is RSS? It stands for Really Simple Syndication (in its infant stages, it stood for Rich Site Summary). It's used to "push" content from a website to a viewer.

The idea is, a web author updates a special file every time they put new content on their website (whether it's a new article on CNN, a new blog post on Megan's Pink Blog, or a new LOLcats picture on ICanHasCheezBurger). You can look for a special symbol to verify that a website is RSS-enabled:

Usually it's a tad bit smaller on the website. To see one "in the wild", you can go to CNN's website and scroll down about 3/4 of the way to the bottom. In the left hand column, there's a cluster of links (RSS Feeds, Emails, CNN Mobile...). CNN actually has several feeds so you can determine if you want to be updated on sports news, international news, etc.

Meanwhile, from the comfort of your own home, you find your favorite reader and "subscribe" to the feed. The reader does the work of checking all of your subscriptions to see what's new. First, let's talk about readers...

I use Google Reader, or GReader as I affectionately call it. But, you can use an add-in for Microsoft Outlook so that it's delivered to you like e-mail. Or, if you use Firefox, it has a built-in reader that displays headlines from a button on the toolbar. I also have a widget on a sidebar of my regular desktop on Windows Vista that has a reader built right into it (neat-o). I like GReader the best, though.

Once you choose your reader, you need to "subscribe" to the feeds you want. Your reader has a way to do this, and most websites will even subscribe for you if you click on their RSS link (but it may or may not work with your reader). With Google's Reader you can even search for interesting feeds. And, in true Google fashion, after it gets to know you it will suggest feeds you might like.

Why is this so great? Well, if you're like I was, you have your usual route of websites that you troll on a daily basis. The problem is, sometimes you forget one. Or maybe you get distracted mid-troll and my, look at how much time has gone by and you're only half way through your list! Or maybe you're lazy. Anyway, I like that my favorite websites tell me when they have new content. It simplifies my life. And all the kids are doing it.

Rusty, looking over my shoulder (of course) has pointed out that many people may not really benefit from this because mine is the only website they read. Well, that may be true, but it would be pretty egotistical for me to think that, so I hope you find this useful.

Chemo Round 7

Round 7?! When did that happen? Wow. I'm almost done!!!! 7 down, 1 to go :-)

Anyway, let me update you on how the wonderful world of chemo is doing, and give you some details about some of the ongoing conversations and concerns I have with my doctors.

First, we started the day by arriving a half hour early. I mean really early. Let me explain. My appointment with Mr. Wizard, or his Nurse Practitioner, Julia Child, NP starts at a different time every round (the NP doesn't sound like Julia Child or dress like her, she just kind of reminds me of the way she looks). Anyway, I'm supposed to arrive a half hour early to get my blood drawn for the CBC (complete blood count). At first, they didn't tell me this, and I would just show up 15-20 minutes early, get my blood drawn, and meet with the doctor or NP. Then they formalized the process and told me to shop up a half hour early. Since then, I've been a little inconsistent about how I write this in my calendar.

Anyway, for some reason, I wrote down 9:00 AM in my calendar, but I thought we had to be there at 8:30. Turns out we had to be there for the blood counts at 9:00 and the meeting with the NP at 9:30. No problem - I'm just a half hour early, right? Yeah, right. If only it weren't for the fact that I'm embarrassingly Type A when it comes to these appointments. Why? I dunno - I don't want them to leave me out there for hours on end. Also, I want to get my good room, damnit! The longer I'm out there waiting to see the NP, the greater the chance that someone could take the last big room with a window, and we can't have that.

So, anyway, I see someone that arrived after me get called to meet with my NP. And THAT, my dear friends, is like adding lighter fluid to a pile of smoldering embers. So, the next time I saw the nurse, I asked her if I was in the queue. She informed me that my appointment was at 9:30, but she would see if they could get me in sooner. D'oh! After she called me, I apologized for being a little too Type A, and she just laughed a little - all was well.

During the appointment with the NP, she explained to me that last week my liver enzymes were way out of whack and she would not treat me if they got even a smidgen worse. We then looked at them, and she explained that last time some where at 4x the high end of normal. This time, however, things were good to go. (Hemoglobin was a low, as usual, but we're okay with that). Which makes me wonder... Did I have a beer the night before my last infusion? Or was it the orange juice mimosa and Bloody Mary the morning of? (just kidding!) Oh well - I will have to remember to avoid that next time.

We also discussed something I've been worrying about since my last infusion (in fact, this was the topic of a near full-on freakout mode a week and a half ago - that Rusty is such a sweetheart). It turns out that my surgeon (who I never gave a nickname... I'll have to think of one - I'm accepting submissions) is going on sailing for 3 weeks in the month of August. This is the one vacation he takes every year. The guy works very hard, and I do not want to suggest that he doesn't deserve a vacation, but this poses a bit of a problem to me...

You see, my last round of chemo is July 31st. Yay! I will be meeting with my surgeon on August 4th to discuss the details of the surgery and to schedule a date. From what I've read, the optimal time to schedule the surgery is 3-4 weeks after the last chemo treatment. This gives my immune system time to bounce back so that I will heal after surgery, but not quite enough time to give the cancer the opportunity to grow. The problem is that my surgeon returns from his vacation on August 28th. That puts me right at the 4 week mark, and if my surgery is delayed any more, I'm pushing 5-6 weeks.

I spoke to Julia Child about my concerns, and she did say that they were very valid questions. She then informed me that the person who was supposed to go on the trip with my surgeon just broke his leg, and it's possible (maybe even probable) that he will not get to go sailing. Ya know, as much as I shouldn't be delighting in the misfortunes of others... I guess I kind of am. After all, it's not like he has cancer.

So, although this situation isn't resolved, I'm feeling better about it because I've voiced my concerns in an assertive way. If it turns out that the trip goes on as schedule, Mr. Wizard did say that he's very happy with the response of the tumor, but we'll have to wait for the results of the MRI and the Mammogram I'm about to take tomorrow and Friday. If the response was really good, maybe it's okay to push it out to 5-6 weeks. On the other hand, it may make sense to do an extra round of chemo. I did suggest the possibility of stretching out my last round (as in, doing it in 3 weeks instead of 2), but that doesn't seem to be an option. And, finally, I could chose another surgeon. HELL NO. He's the best, and I want only the best for my boobs.

Anyway, so that appointment ended, and I walked away feeling not completely satisfied, but much better. I then went to choose my room, and I had a glorious room with a window. Yay! Next, it was time for my infusion nurse. We'll just call her Nurse Awesome because she's awesome (I normally have the same nurse, which makes me very happy - when she's not in, I'm not exactly thrilled). Anyway, Nurse Awesome tries to stick me with the IV, and for the first time, it fails. :-( She had to try a different spot, which eventually worked. I'm not really doing this part of the day justice, but it just wasn't a pleasant experience and it's so discouraging. It hurt a little, and the phlebotomist drawing for my CBC earlier in the day had trouble, too - both times hurt. I think my veins are getting pissed. Anyway, it made me cry a little because this was just such a topsy-turvy day. Eventually the IV went in and I got my Benadryl and feel asleep :-) For the rest of the day, everything was pretty standard and here we are.

So, I hope everyone is still reading. I know I've been a bit sporadic about posting lately, but I will dedicate a post on how to get my blogs more efficiently so you don't have to keep checking this website. It's called RSS, and if you don't know how to use it, it will rock your world once you do. If you want to research it in the meantime, I suggest going to your favorite browser, typing "www.google.com" in the address bar, and then typing "what is RSS" in the search bar. jk. (that's what the kids use for "just kidding") I promise to give some instructions soon.

To Sir, With Love

Have you ever seen this movie?

When I was little, my Mémère showed it to me, and it left quite an impression. If you haven't seen it, I'll give a very brief synopsis but I won't do it justice (you have to see it). It's a 1967 movie starring Sidney Poitier as a high school teacher. He is in charge of a group of ruffians, just about to graduate high school. The kids are totally disrespectful and and he soon realizes that the information they need isn't in the books they can barely read - he needs to prepare them to be adults. They start out having absolutely no respect for him, blah blah, he starts treating them like adults, blah blah, they eventually come to admire and respect him, and it's a very touching story.

There is also a song by the same name, sung by Lulu, and it's the theme song to the movie. Anyway, for some reason I keep thinking of this song, especially the line right before the refrain - "How do you thank someone..." (the rest of it, which is not relevant to my post is "who has taken you from crayons to perfume..." then "It isn't easy, but I'll try..."). I think it's quite a beautiful song.

Anyway, what the heck am I talking about? Well, my mom told me I should try writing nice things (undoubtedly in reference to my not-so-nice post a week ago), and I told her that was unrealistic ;-) Then I remembered that I did complain about not getting any blog ideas, and here she was kind of giving me an idea. So, I decided to write about a nice thing for a change. This is something I've been wanting to write about for awhile, but wasn't sure how to do it.

When this song gets stuck in my head, it's because I'm wondering how you thank someone who you feel you can never ever repay for all that they have done for you. This describes several people in my life, but for this post I want to focus on Rusty. This is not to say he's the only person who has helped me. So don't be disappointed if I didn't call you out. See? That's why I told my mom I couldn't write nice things, because then people would wonder why I didn't write nice things about them. If I write mean things, no one gets jealous or upset that I didn't write about them :-)

Anyway, the spouse tends to get lost in the shuffle of a cancer patient. I don't even know how Rusty must feel. No one ever asks him. He's there for everything. He stays home from work every time I have an appointment - even if it's just to get a bone marrow booster (essentially a 15 minute appointment the day after chemo). At first, he didn't let me lift a finger at home. Then I felt it was starting to make my muscles atrophy, so I insisted that he let me do some things around the house. And he has.

When I go to the spa to get a massage or a pedicure, Rusty is at home mowing the lawn or painting the outside of the house. When I am sitting on the couch blogging, Rusty gets me more water or whatever else I need. When he's helping me make dinner, he actually makes sure he's cutting the onions exactly the way I want him to cut them. When I am feeling really crappy, he listens to all of my symptoms and offers encouragement. When I go into what I call "full-on freakout mode," he remains calm, lets the process run its course, then tries to bring me back to reality. (I don't know if that ever happens to you, but for me it's when I've been stewing about something in my head for a little while, and then I see the coffee table filled with clutter and the laundry that hasn't been folded in 3 days, and all of a sudden I just lose it and stress out about every single little thing. Am I alone here? And don't tell me it's PMS because I don't have that anymore with chemo - OKAY?! Wait, nice things...)

Anyway, Rusty handles these things like a trooper. He doesn't complain. He loves to go to music festivals in the summer, and he hasn't been to one this year. He got his first haircut in about 10 years to support me. Some men leave their wives over stuff like this because it's too much to handle, and I can only say that this experience has actually caused us to refocus and deepen our relationship. And speaking of deepening relationships, he and my mom have spent a lot more time together. I shouldn't speak for them, but I think it has made them understand, know, and like each other better, too. Some men wouldn't be that way with their mother-in-law, but he's happy to have her with us and it means so much to me, too.

So how do you thank someone who is there for you no matter what? No one signs up for this in life. I didn't sign up for it, either, but it's different when it's happening to you. As a spouse, I can imagine that at times he must feel helpless or frustrated or lost. And those are feelings I don't have, because whether I like it or not I'm an active participant in this.

I don't mean to suggest that this surprises me. It's not like being this way is uncharacteristic of him, but it still makes my heart melt. I don't know how I could ever thank him enough for just being himself - the person who promised to be with me in sickness, but who probably didn't really expect it to happen that way.

That's about all I've got. It's a lot easier to write mean things because I think they're funny.