Interview tomorrow

As most of you know, last year, after 3 years of taking off to stay home with my kiddos, I was all ready to return to work. I had a part time job, teaching middle school language arts at a nearby school district. After my very first day of district training, I received the phone call from my doctor that I had breast cancer. Needless to say, I didn't return to work that year.

I decided last year that in addition to getting through all my treatments, I'd take the next year off as well, since I'd still be having extensive reconstructive surgery that I'd need some recovery time for, as well as many doctor appointments. Plus, because of my diagnosis, I've had this nagging feeling in my mind that God didn't want me to have that job, so maybe returning to work isn't what I should be doing (but that is a post for another day).

However, no matter what my gut feeling has been, each week I look in the paper at the classifieds....partly out of habit, partly to see what's out there, and partly in hopes that the perfect job, one that will allow me time for my family as well as giving me the opportunity to actually use my degree, would be posted that given week. I haven't actively persued anything. I haven't searched the website/newspaper in the other Twin City that contains more jobs. I haven't looked at individual district's sites that posts more jobs than the newspapers reveal. I just quickly glance through the 2 to 3 columns of jobs to see if any pertain to me. None has.

Until 2 weeks ago.

That's when a job for a library assistant appeared before my eyes....at a very prestigious and expensive private school where I would love for my kids to attend. Now except for my love of adolescent literature and many research projects I've developed with my students, I don't have any "formal" library training. But this job listing didn't require a library science degree. Just someone who had some library experience and an interest in working with middle school and high school students.

Key to this job is that it's parttime. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday...full days. But the rest of the week I'd have off.

The pay is crap, compared to what I'd get paid if I was teaching. However, I wouldn't have work to "take home" like a teaching job, and the job comes with benefits. Now I'm not sure what the benefits are, but I'm hoping, praying, that they involve something around tuition reduction if your child attends their school. Now that would be the ultimate benefit.

I had a very brief phone interview with the middle school director. It was kinda funny because one of his questions basically asked me why, with my advanced degree and all the teaching jobs out there that I'm qualified for, why would I just want to be a library assistant. I kinda laughed and told him that I'm looking for a job that allows me to tap into my interest in adolescent literature and to work with middle school and high school students, without the full time committment that a teaching job requires.

I'm actually kinda nervous about my interview. Because I have never interviewed for a library position before, I have no clue what they're going to ask me, and I don't have a prepared portfolio to use to help show my talents for the position. I'm afraid they're going to ask me about a bunch of books I'd suggest, and I'll just go blank under pressure. I don't have a huge amount of experience with high school book suggestions, especially for advanced high school students, so that worries me as well.

I guess instead of writing about my worries, I really should be preparing for this interview. And praying that God helps me through this ordeal and makes it clear the path that I should follow by way of a fulfilling job.

There may also be some childcare issues and surgery recovery issues that I'll have to figure out if I get the job. But I figure that I'll shoot for getting an offer first, and deal with the other issues later.

So right now, a toast of red wine...and then I think I better go figure out who exactly I'm interviewing with. Would be nice if I knew the guy's name when I go into the school office, don't ya think?

It really is all in my head

One of the side effects of chemotherapy is memory loss..."chemo brain" it's often called.

According to breastcancer.org "women have long reported to their doctors that they have experienced a sense of memory loss—a feeling of being 'fuzzy,' 'cloudy,' 'in a fog,' or unable to concentrate like they used to—during and immediately after undergoing chemotherapy."

During this past month I have misplaced my glasses at least 25 times, had to replace a cell phone that I couldn't locate anywhere, used my spare key several times while my orginals sat dormant. I've also found myself going into the pantry for milk, returning cereal to the refrigerator and purchasing a cartful of items at Target, forgetting the one thing I went in there for.

I lose my thought in the middle of sentences, completely forget to return phonecalls and e-mails and leave almost everything unfinished.

Just last week I almost took 5 Ativan instead of my prescribed 5 steroids.

But anyone who has spent even the slightest amount of time with me knows that this has NOTHING to do with chemobrain......

and everything to do with "Caribrain."

For medicinal purposes only

Went to the Oncologist today. So much to say.

But I'm going to watch some Weeds right now...not do weed...but watch the Showtime series.

Just need to relax...and enjoy some wine...before I can't really drink anymore.

Will update everyone tomorrow.

Don't read this if you're expecting a cheery attitude.

No chuckles or smiles here today. Today was just a crappy day, and I won’t even try to mask it with humor.

You know that pain that I’ve been mentioning, well, it has not been going away. Any touch of the surgical area, including in my armpit area and in the under part of my upper arm, just feels like needles...kinda like brush bristles being rubbed, hard, against my skin. Any touch, even the touch of my shirt, causes this pain. Needless to say, I’m really crabby about this. Doing ANYTHING incites the pain, and it just sucks.

I called the doctor, and he had me come in. But on my way there, as I was chomping on a mint, I chipped my tooth. Now this is completely my fault, because a year and half ago I had a root canal, and never went back for the $700 crown. Didn’t know it was so important…apparently it is.

Anyway, while sitting in the doctor’s office, I flipped through O Magazine, which someone had given me in a care basket. One of the articles was entitled, “The Breast Caner Nobody Is Talking About: The news about breast cancer is good, and getting better all the time—except for one virulent, fast-acting type that attacks more than twice as many young black women as all other women…” Then it went on to describe mostly the “triple-negative” cancer that I have (even though obviously I’m not black)…which is very aggressive, and why despite having a mastectomy, I also must have chemo and radiation, even though the cancer hadn’t spread to the lymph nodes. It was just a bit depressing actually reading about it.

Finally I was called to the back. After explaining to my doctor the pain, he explained that it was some nerve thing (as usual…very detailed medical terms I’ll be using here), having something to do with the nerves being cut. And that the pain isn’t actually physical, but neurological. He made it clear that this does not mean it’s “in my head” but it is related to the nerves. At least I think that’s what he said. I understand it all when he’s telling me, but as soon as I walk out that door, if I haven’t written anything down to review, all the information just sorta mushes and blends and the details are blurry. Anyhow, Dr. Sanan said it’s not a common side effect, but it does happen sometimes. I asked him how long I was going to feel this way. He told me that he didn’t know anyone who had it forever. (Not sure if that was a joke or not). He then prescribed me some medicine that isn’t actually for pain, but something that they often give to people with epilepsy…again, something with nerves and such. The problem is, the medicine will make me drowsy. And I have to take it 3 times a day! For at least a month! Not really the news I wanted to hear. I did ask him if it was going to make me gain weight, and he told me no. So at least that’s good.

Afterwards, I went to the dentist and made an appointment…well a few, for this whole tooth correction plus a cleaning. While there, I left my glasses. Of course I didn’t know this until a couple hours later after I was already in a panic about not being able to see.

At one point, I was finally able to lie down and just take a nap. I did make myself get up to greet Cameron from his bus, only to be encountered with a very angry child. Let me back up, this morning, he found a salamander in our garage. They’re gross, like short snakes with legs. But he couldn’t seem to capture it. After getting on the bus, one of my neighbors got the slimy thing out and set it free. Well, as soon as Cameron got off the bus, he went right to the garage looking for the critter. Not realizing how excited he was to see it, I told him that we caught it and let it go. It was right then and there that the tears started….and they wouldn’t stop. He went inside and the wailing continued for over an hour. He whined, and sobbed, and whimpered and glared, and all out sobbed some more. It was RIDICULOUS! I tried to be nice, apologized, was kind, was mean, threatened, sent him to his room, lectured, etc. NOTHING worked! That child came down for dinner, took his plate from the table and walked out to the back porch with it. When questioned, he told me he wanted to eat by himself. The nerve of that child! Fearing what I might do or say to him if he continued with his attitude, I obliged and was more than happy to allow him to eat outside….alone!

So that was my day. Pretty crappy.

Except the worst part of all, as I’m about to take my medicine, the warnings read that alcohol intensifies the effect of the medicine. Does this mean that I can’t drink my wine? What a tragedy!

Slash update -- not from Guns N Roses.

Slash! Poison! Burn! – My doctor’s description of how we’re going to get rid of this cancer.

It has been a week since “the slash” (my surgery). And for the most part, my spirits have been up and physically I’ve been fine.

Yesterday I met with my surgeon again. He finally took out this drainage tube, which was VERY annoying. (It’s hard to wash your hair when you have to hold the drainage bulb in one hand while trying to scrub your hair with the other). It was inconvenient (bulging out of my clothes) and uncomfortable. So I was happy to be rid of it. Apparently, my husband informed me, when I have my reconstruction, I will have a few drainage tubes on each side, and for longer. But no need to worry about that now.

I was hoping with the tube gone to get some exercise in today…at least a long walk, as the doctor said I should be okay to run by next week. But for some reason, I’m in more pain today. Maybe from lifting the kids the past couple days??? I’m not sure, but it seems harder to raise my arm today, and I’m just experiencing more discomfort than I have since I returned from the hospital. I haven’t really had to take any pain killers since earlier this week, but today, I think I’ll pop a Vicodin at nap time, and see how that works, because the ibuprofen I took this morning did nothing (and yes, I did have my coffee).

Back to the slash….The initial shock of the scar wasn’t too earth shattering. I had seen pictures, so I knew how deformed I was going to be. When I showed Melvin, he was all “It’s beautiful,” as he analyzed the sutures up close. What a surgical nerd! But I guess his response was better than when Cameron walked into the bathroom one day when I was getting ready and wrinkled up his nose, saying, “Ew gross!” Max was already so spooked by the whole hospital experience that I wasn’t about to emotionally scar him anymore by showing him what we call “my oweee.” (Though I have to admit, one time when he was crying for me to pick him up…for no good reason…and he wouldn’t stop, I flashed my drainage tube to remind him of why I couldn’t. He quickly backed away from me and didn’t ask me to pick him up for a couple days. Cruel, but effective!).

Besides the scar from the surgery, and now pencil size hole I have under my arm from the drainage tube, I also have this porta cath, which might be the grossest thing of all. Ever see the movie The Mummy, where those little cockroach creatures get under the skin of the man and crawl up his body. That’s what this looks like. Of course, it doesn’t crawl, but a couple inches below my neck is a quarter size ball, that protrudes out, with a small tube, also outlined in my skin, that leads up to a pea size ball, which leads into my vein (or artery or something). In the correct light, you can see it all very clearly, just underneath my skin. It’s creepy actually. But Dr. Sanan said it will be my friend when it comes time to chemotherapy. This way, they’ll just stab the “giant cockroach” (as I’ll refer to it now), instead of always struggling to find a vein.

Speaking of chemo, I have a couple weeks of healing, and then on Oct. 2nd, I meet with an oncologist. She’ll mix up my little “recipe,” and then we’ll start the next phase (Poison!) of completely obliterating this cancer.

My "puppy"

My doctor has all these really great analogies for cancer and dealing with it.

At the hospital, Dr. Sanan said that the cancer is like a puppy that pees all over the house. The dog has to pee, so you give it its area to let it do what it needs to do, and then the rest of the house should be fine. Just like cancer, you have to give it its proper time and place, but you can’t let it take over your whole life. And he said that people will try to tell you to rest and that you shouldn’t be out and about, but that I just have to do what I normally do as long as I feel fine with it.

So today, I gave my cancer its time…in the morning.,,when I was finally able to take a shower for the first time since last Friday (talk about some greasy hair). So I had no choice but to face this ugly cancer…or should I say the after effects of it, by finally taking off the bandages and looking at the ugly scar. And that’s just what it is….ugly. Or I could say gross. Or I could say absolutely disgusting. It actually indents in, is all crooked, and goes up higher than I thought it would. But oh well. Nothing I can do about it. A small price I have to pay for my life…I guess. And in a year, it will all be put back together when Dr. Harrington makes me “pretty” again…at least that’s what she told me. And this porta-cath sticks out a bit like a bone on my right side, just below my neck. It’s gross as well. But again, oh well.

After I gave my “puppy” its “pee spot” I got on with my life. Which today meant shopping! It went from 90 degrees to 60 degrees in a two day period. Ella needed jeans, so Sara drove and we went shopping with the kids. Then I came home, had lunch, took a Vicodan for my discomfort…but mostly to help me sleep…and proceeded to take a 3 hour nap. By the time I woke up, it was time for Cameron to come home from school, dinner, soccer practice, then baths and bed. Not bad for a first full day away from the hospital.

Shopping and sleeping….I think I can handle this.

I'm back

I’m home. With one less boob, a few non-cancerous lymph nodes removed, a tube sticking out of me and a porta-cath imbedded in me. Oh yeah, and that damn 3.1 cm cancerous lump gone...the thing that started all this!

I had no internet access a the hospital, so the following is what I composed last night.

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I started out Friday morning at the Breast Center at United Hospital hungry and in desperate need of coffee. Instead of food and drink, I got an injection straight into my nipple. That was quite painful. But the doctor said she liked my painted toenails, so despite the pain she inflicted, I liked her.

After awhile, I was then sent to a pre-op room. There I had to put on this odd soft paperish gown that actually was hooked up to some vacuum looking hose. Except instead of sucking out air, it pumped in either cold or warm air, depending on how I set the remote. It was actually kind of fun, and quite comfortable. I had a wonderful pre-op nurse…Debra or Brenda…can’t quite remember her name. But she was very kind, explained everything very clearly and just had a soothing tone of concern in her voice. In this room I received an IV, not a fun experience, but not as bad as the nipple needle.

Then all the doctors came in. First the anesthesiologist. He seemed nice enough. Told me they’d give me something to relax me first, then something that would knock me out. I didn’t really have any questions…just wanted to make sure I was put to sleep….”and that we wake you up!” he added. Oh yes, I guess that would be nice as well.

They told me that the vascular surgeon who was to insert the portal cathter (for easy chemo administration), was across the street at the day surgery center but would be over soon. When he finally did come over, my confidence in his abilities wained a bit…as he seemed a little shaky, and as he was explaining what he was going to he’d add, “Or I’ll just see what they have in there for me and decide.” When he left the room, I asked my husband if maybe he was actually across the street at the local bar before he came over. Melvin laughed and said he’s actually one of the best doctors and that was just the way that he always is. After all, his name was Dr. Hope, so I guess I couldn’t be too worried, right?

Finally Dr. Sanan came in and just went through it all again quickly, of what they were going to do. Nothing new. I had no questions. Just wanted this all done and over with.

And then we waited, and as I was listening to Hold Me Jesus, I broke down a little in tears. Just scared of the pain, the surgery, the strangers, etc. But I quickly got myself together, and before I knew it, my mom and my husband were saying good bye, the relaxing medicine was inserted in my IV, and I was in the operating room, looking up at these two huge round lights…and then blank…I was knocked out.

I woke up briefly in the recovery room, to Dr. Sanan telling me that they removed 3 lymph nodes and they did not contain cancer. So that was great. Next thing I knew, I was being wheeled to my regular room, where the clock had read 5:30! I couldn’t believe how late it was already. At this point, things were not starting out so well.

First of all, it felt like someone was crushing my chest and arm…that was just the pain from the surgery. Not a sharp pain, but a VERY uncomfortable one. I asked for some meds, and it took quite some time for them to finally administer me anything.

The first nurse I had was not pleasant at all….which was not the experience I needed at that moment. Melvin started asking her some questions about the meds ordered. She looked at him and said, “Are you a nurse?” To which he responded that he was a surgeon. She told him that he looked too young to be a surgeon, but did he do surgery at this hospital. He said he does some here, but mostly at St. John’s. She then proceeded to tell him that she just had some surgery at St. Johns and she was not pleased at all with the care she received over there. Kinda what I was thinking about her at this point.

Thankfully, that nurse was sent home sick, apparently. I had a nurse shuffle for a while, until the regular night nurse, Karna, came in. She was young and kind, and I felt much better with her. Then at some point I had another nice one named Michelle, Then in the morning I had Joanna, who constantly was checking on me and making sure I didn’t need anything. They were great.

Throughout the night, I was given different meds. The Dilauded was awesome. They injected it directly into my IV. Although I’m not sure if it took away the pain, or if I just didn’t feel any pain for a while because it immediately knocked me out. The downside was that every time I got up to use the bathroom or something I would become very nauseas and dizzy. But since fluids were constantly being pumped into me, I had to continually have bathroom breaks. I was literally awake all through the night…at least 4 times an hour I’d wake up…and then drift back….and wake up…and drift back. All the while having to assess my pain on some arbitrary scale of 1 – 10 to the nurses. I felt like some drug addict asking for more pain meds, but they gave them willingly, so I figured it was necessary.

Besides the pain and bathroom breaks that kept me up all night, my IV kept making a noise all night long. It was like those old laser jet printers, just printing one line across a piece of paper….every 17 seconds! It was ridiculous, but my husband said you couldn’t do anything about it.

By morning time, I was feeling only a little better with the pain. Overall, I just felt horrible. They brought my breakfast (I hadn’t had a thing to eat the entire day or night before), but I just couldn’t eat anything. I still felt dizzy and nauseous, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

My mom, husband and the kids came to visit me. That perked me up for a bit. Although, when Max walked in the room, he just had a look of fear on his face, and acted like he was afraid of me. The kids were there long enough for the nurses to oooh and aaah over them, but then the crying and screaming started, and they just had to go. When they left, my head was hurting, and a constant headache took over as the pain leader. My whole head felt like it was going to explode. Having lunch and drinking water didn’t help. I was given Vicatin, but that didn’t help. Motrin didn’t help either. Neither did the ice pack that the nurse gave me.

But then my husband showed up with the “wonder drug.” No, not a glass of wine! But a cup of coffee…caramel latte to be exact. And don’t you know I was enduring hours of a painful headache that was easily and quickly soothed with a cup of coffee. Oh man, I’m addicted. Once I had that coffee, everything felt better. No headache, no dizziness, no nausea. I even felt good enough to go home, but it was too late for that, and remembering how my kids left the hospital, I was glad to be lying in peace and quiet.

So hopefully, I’ll sleep better tonight, and after the doctor takes off this dressing and such, I’ll be ready to return home. After all, apparently when Max was saying prayers at dinner tonight, he asked God for me to come home tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to disappoint that little cutie pie.

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And now I’m home. Not in much pain, just some discomfort. Able to walk around and such. Kinda bored, but not really wanting to do anything! After eating some lunch and admiring all the cards, flowers and cookies, I think I’ll take a bit of a break.

Thanks again everyone for all your prayers and well wishes!

Almost time.

Tomorrow's the big day.

I go in for some more radioactive injections at 9:30,.they're going to run some wand over me to see where I beep a lot, so they know where to take out some lymph nodes (or something like that).

I hit the chopping block around noonish.

The pre-op people called today to get all of my medical history and give instructions on tomorrow.

No alcohol tonight the lady told me.

So I'm wondering, what time is night?

A "fun" shopping trip

Today my friend Andrea (pictured above) and I went shopping today for post-mastectomy stuff…if you know what I’m saying. Or should I say, post-mastectomy stuffing!

I’m so thankful to my friend for doing this with me. I knew it was something that I needed to do, but I have been very nervous about it and putting it off and putting it off. Without my even mentioning it to her, Andrea approached me and asked if I wanted her to go shopping with me. She even took the time to find some places online and set up an appointment for me. Honestly, somehow she knew that this is exactly what I needed someone to do for me.

I’m especially grateful because Andrea’s mom died of breast cancer when Andrea was 17, and sometimes I wonder if this brings back some very sad memories for her. But she’s been so especially helpful to me and I thank her for that.

We went to a store called, A Fitting Place, in Hastings. This was just the place that I needed to go. It was very cute, with a bunch of different rooms for various stages of the post-mastectomy/chemo process. One room was for wigs, another had swimsuits and sun hats, the front room had jewelry and inspirational knick knacks, and the back room, where I hung out, had all the necessary post-op wear.

The lady who owns the place had a sister who died from breast cancer, which inspired her to open this store. Her extensive knowledge of what I would need, the quaint décor, the Christian music playing the background, and my good friend tagging along with me, actually made this to be a very pleasant experience. I got what I needed, and now maybe when this surgery is all done, I won’t be hiding like a hermit after all.

Countdown to the 7th

I think the reality of what I’m going through is beginning to sink in more and more. And it all scares me now. This whole weekend I found myself constantly thinking things like, This is the last Saturday I’ll be “normal” with my family. This is the last time I’ll be in church as my “normal” self. This is the last time I’ll be having friends over to watch a movie when I’m “normal.” This is the last time I'll be having our usual Sunday brunch as a "normal" person. etc. I suddenly want to do a bunch of stuff…go shopping, get pictures taken, get my hair done, get a pedicure…all as my “normal” self. Not that I won’t be able to do all of this once the surgery is over and I’m healed. But I fear it will just be different…that I will just be different. And that is what scares me the most.

50/50 chance

I’ve been starting to get a little nervous about the surgery on Friday. The needles, the procedure, the pain, etc.

And then in the mail I get a pre-op form to fill out. Included with this was a pamphlet from United Hospital called Patient Guide for Surgery. It states:

Surgery Date: 9/7/07

Surgeon: Dr. Sanan

Arrival Time: 10:00 AM at Breast Center

Procedure: Right sentinel node biopsy, Right mastectomy

Procedure Time: 12:30 PM

Ummm…………my cancer is in my LEFT breast.

This mailing definitely didn’t help my nerves. Do I actually need to mark with a Sharpie where my cancer is located?

Toying around

Today I went to visit the plastic surgeon to discuss my reconstruction. I felt rather uncomfortable walking into a plastic surgery suite. I wanted to shout to everyone, “I have breast cancer…that’s why I’m here …not because I want to look like some Playboy model.” (Which was really ridiculous because my reason for being there doesn’t make me any better of a person, especially since I can’t tell you how many times I’ve longed for bigger boobs).

Everyone there was very nice. The nurse talked to me for a long time and basically explained that they would take muscle flaps from my back, flip them under my arm and use that muscle for form a new breast and insert an implant. She said sometimes they take tissue from the stomach to do the same thing, but that I’m too small for that. I had to laugh and said, “Are you sure? Because I beg to differ on my ‘small’ stomach.”

She also took out two different implants for me to feel, one was silicone and one was saline. It was quite strange holding them, as they felt rather heavy. I’m not used to any weight on my chest. I quickly put them down because they kinda gave me the creeps. But then as soon as the nurse left the room, I just had to pick them up again.. The saline one was like those water wiggles the novelty stores used to sell. The ones where you pick them up, and they slip right out of your hand, but you can’t help but continually pick them up over and over again. Seriously, I couldn't stop palying with the thing. Made me wonder, “Is this why guys like breasts so much?”

The funniest part of this visit, however, was not how the implants felt, but the initial meeting of my doctor. If she didn’t introduce herself as the doctor, I would have NEVER believed it was her. The lady had a ponytail on the very top of her head…almost up to her forehead, with a big black scrunchie in it. It was like I had traveled back to the late 80s/ early 90s. At first it was really hard for me not to laugh. Seriously, this is how I wear my hair at night when I’m trying to get it out of my face, but NEVER out in public that way. In all honesty though, it actually suited this very petite, spunky lady quite well. I really liked her, and she came highly recommended. She told me all about how her mother, who was also an 8th grade English teacher, had breast cancer, and although she expressed her sadness, she was very upbeat and encouraging…telling me not to worry. Assuring me that she’d make me pretty! And she said she’d be thinking and praying for me. How nice to hear a doctor say that!

I did get some bad news while I was there. Originally I thought I’d only be a misshapen maiden for 6 months…that I could do reconstruction as soon as the radiation was done. Doing the math, I figured I’d be ready to sport the bikini for next summer. But actually the reconstruction should not be done for about 6 to 8 months after I’m all finished with the radiation…when the skin is better healed. And that totally sucks!

As I left, I picked up a few brochures…one for restilin, one for botox, a couple for some skin care products. Because you just never know!

Details and Requests

So here’s the news:

Surgery next Friday. I think it’s around noonish. (My husband set up the appointment, so I can’t remember the exact time he told me).

I will have a mastectomy of my left breast. I think the doctor also might take out some lymph nodes…I can’t remember. I was in a bit of a daze during part of our meeting, especially when my husband turned into doctor mode and starting discussing all this stuff that I had no clue about. I just let them have their “doctor chat” until they were ready to include me.

The tumor I have is a “triple negative,” and I could go look up what I wrote in my notes, but this involved more “doctor chatting” and I can just tell you that the ramifications of this is that it cannot be treated with hormone therapy.

Unfortunately, due to my age and location of the tumor, which is right up against my muscle, I am going to need to have radiation. This means that I canNOT have reconstructive surgery until after the radiation is over. Which means I will look like some freak for about six months or so.

About three weeks after the surgery I will start chemotherapy, and then radiation after that.

But THEN, after about six months, I can have reconstruction and get what my friend calls, an “upgrade.” At the time of my reconstruction, I might even opt to have my right breast removed so that I don’t have to worry about cancer popping up there as well. I meet with a plastic surgeon tomorrow to discuss all this. And if I’m lucky, she’ll assure me that she can make me look like this:

(except I'd prefer that my belly button not be airbrushed out!)

Now everyone keeps e-mailing me asking what they can do.

I have two requests.

If you know of any place that sells really cool head scarves, or really funky wigs, please let me know. Because I’m not walking around showing off this lumpy head of mine!

Secondly, and I’m trying to say this as politely as possible.....please do not critique how I’m dealing with all this. Lately I’ve had good friends, family members, strangers, etc. allude to the fact that I’m too happy. That maybe I’m masking how I really feel and that I must feel like I need to put up some happy front around them or when I talk to them on the phone. But in all honesty, it is no front. I have complete faith in God and in my doctors that all of this is going to be fine. And I’m not trying to be some person of super strength, or some martyr. Really, I am very encouraged and happy when I am around my friends. Being around people makes me feel good…period! Any connection with people talking about all our regular stuff just cheers me up. I must confess that I check my e-mail and blog about 20 times a day hoping for a message or comment…for the mere fact that it makes me feel good. And one must admit, there are some things that are just funny about this whole ordeal, so why not joke and laugh about it.

Besides, I'm not jolly all the time. There are times lately when I am just sad, and I let the answering machine pick up the phone, or I complain about everything because I'm just really grouchy. And I have NO problems shedding tears (my husband can attest to this). I am a really good crier…when I’m sad, or hurt, or even mad. And I’m sure when it comes time to having this surgery, the tears will be falling, because the reality of the surgery really scares me. And the 6 months after the surgery, when I’m walking around feeling like some mutant with one breast, an awful looking scar, no hair, and dealing with whatever other side effects of the treatment occur, I KNOW I won’t be some jolly happy camper.

But the reality is that life goes on. I have kids and a husband who need me. This cancer was caught early, and my prognosis is good. I’m surrounded by amazing friends, family, neighbors and others who have offered so much help it’s overwhelming. For all this, I’m happy and extremely thankful. So please let me be this way.

No attachments

You know what the most ridiculous thing is about ME getting breast cancer?

I don’t have breasts!

No really. Any miniature mounds you see underneath my clothing are due to my super padded miracle bras.

The lady doing the mammogram seemed to be having a really hard time smushing anything of significance, and the MRI ladies just kept pushing my back down so that they could get some sort of proper scan. It’s comical really.

When we met with the general surgeon the first time, he discussed some possible surgery and reconstructive options. He commented that some options really depends on how attached I am to my breasts.

Me attached to these microscopic things? HA! I have no attachment whatsoever…and they’ve caused me nothing but trouble. In middle school and high school, these tiny things led to teasing, leading to major self-esteem issues. Bathing suit shopping is an absolute joke. When nursing Cameron, I developed an infection that felt like a needle was jabbing into my skin every time Cameron latched on. When nursing Ella, I had quite a few episodes of clogged ducts and major pain. And now this cancer.

Attached? Not at all. Please take them away…far far away!

But make sure I get some bigger and better ones in return!


Update: Surgery Next week...mastectomy of my left breast. I'll give more details tomorrow.

Another good one

Today I had an MRI. Right before they gave me the test, they told me it would be really loud. I thought to myself: It can’t be any louder than the screams of my 3 year old when my 6 year old chases him around the house, terrorizing the poor kid.

But I was wrong. It was beyond loud. Think of your child’s most annoying noisemaking toy. No, change that, think of FIVE different annoying noisemaking toys. Make sure you include one that makes a machine gun sound, one that does a pulsing buzz, one that hammers, one that drills, etc. And then put the toy next to your ear and turn it on and up to full volume.

And now imagine it being ten times louder. That’s what my MRI was like.

Needless to say, there was no napping during this test.

But the results were good. There was no other cancer found. So praise God for that!!!!!

I’ll have more info tomorrow when I meet with the doctor tomorrow afternoon. Then I’ll know more about our plan of action and I’ll update then.

Again, a heartfelt thanks to everyone!

And now for a little chuckle, completely unrelated to anything about me or my family, if you're looking to waste time and just want to read some very useless but bizarre article, check out this one about the sex lives of beetles.

Scan was good

You know why people lose so much weight on the Atkins Diet? Because they can’t eat ANYTHING!!!!!

I had to have a PET Scan today, which is a scan on my entire body. To prep for it, I couldn’t drink any caffeine on Sunday or today, and I had to be low on the carbs. Since coffee and carbs are two of the three staples in my diet, this was not an easy task. (Wine would be the third staple..which I allowed myself to indulge in since I wasn’t told otherwise!).

All day yesterday I was hungry, but couldn’t find anything in my house that didn’t have major carbs in them. I don’t like vegetables, and most meat requires that you take the time to prepare and cook it. No wonder I’ve lost like 4 pounds in the past 2 days! This morning I couldn’t eat past 8:00 (my appt was at noon). I woke up at 6:30 so that I could feast on something, only to find myself staring at a full pantry with nothing to consume. Everything has carbs! From cereal to yogurt to waffles! I don’t like eggs, and the thought of having to cook bacon so early in the morning made me want to vomit.

Add my lack of food to my lack of caffeine and you can imagine how pleasant I was. When I finally was able to consume something….the thick, sweet, milky drink that the tech said tasted like a pina colada…I actually kind of enjoyed it, even though it tasted NOTHING like the tropical drink. I actually had to sit for an hour and just relax, while sipping on my mocktail. Except for the needle puncture where the radioactive liquid was injected, and except for my choice of reading material (trying to actually do that homework the doctor assigned), I was in heaven…just sitting and relaxing for an hour. I can’t remember when the last time was that I had the chance to do that!

Then it got better. I actually had to just lie down for 30 minutes, with no interruptions! Okay, it was a little strange being in this big tube. And the moment the tech said I couldn’t move, I suddenly felt itches all over my body that I wasn’t allowed to scratch. But aside from the initial discomfort, I was all swaddled up and with the hum of the machine and the faint sound of music in the background, I quickly fell fast asleep.

Now these kinds of tests, yes, I can handle them. Anything that is painless and allows me to relax giving me a slight break from the whines and screams that beckon me throughout the day, I’ll take any day.

I already have the results back, and the doctor said that there was no other sign of cancerous activity in my body, except for the slight activity around the lymph nodes, but that is probably due to the trauma experienced when having the biopsy done.

Tomorrow I have an MRI. I specifically asked if I could drink my caffeine and eat my carbs and they assured me that it was okay. So right now I’m snacking on the ultimate carb…chocolate chip cookies. But not just any chip kind, but rather Sweet Martha’s cookies, from the State Fair. If you’re a Minnesotan, you know exactly what I’m talking about it! YUMMY!!!!

Again, I’d like to thank everyone for all the well wishes and prayers. The outpouring of care and concern has been quite overwhelming for me, as I’m one who doesn’t like to be the center of attention. But it is great to know that I’m loved. The advice offered from those “anonymous” folks and those near and dear to me is most appreciated. For all those offering help, I’m not even sure what to ask for. Life goes on as usual around here, at least until the surgery occurs. Then I’m sure I’ll be calling for some help. Because although my kids will be elated to eat cereal every night for dinner, I don’t think my husband will be too thrilled. Again, thank you so much everyone! Your words of encouragement really help keep my spirits up.

Kid reactions

Yesterday I tried to explain a little bit to my oldest son Cameron about what was going to be happening with me. He really didn’t seem interested until I told him that I was going to have to take some medicine that would make all my hair fall out. This made him laugh. When I told him my eyebrows would fall out too, he laughed even harder, and asked if my eyelashes would be gone as well. I told him that I didn’t really know, but any hair on my body was going to fall out. He laughed again and then said, “But Mommy, then you won’t be a mammal anymore!”

I assured him that I’d still be a mammal even though I wouldn’t have any hair, however, later on that night at the fair I saw a completely bald lady, and reptile-like is the word that came to mind. Seeing her kind of freaked me out a bit. I really don’t think I could do the bald thing.

Max’s reaction to me telling him about losing my hair was quite the opposite as Cameron’s. He actually screamed, “NO! I don’t want you have no hair!” I told him that it will be okay, and that I could get a wig. “Should I get a pink one or a purple one?” “No!” he laughed. “You have to get a yellow one. Purple would be silly!”

I actually have to be careful with how literal he takes everything. Today I said I needed some medicine because I had a headache, and he looked at me and said, “And then your hair will fall out?” I assured him that this medicine will not do that, and most medicines won’t do that, especially any medicine that he takes.

I don’t know if it’s good or bad that I can’t explain anything to Ella.

Melvin actually stopped at two bookstores and picked up two picture books to read to the kids about cancer. I haven’t looked at them yet, but I thought that was very sweet of him to do this. And when he came home he told me to take a nap, and he cleaned up the kitchen, and he put the kids to bed…now this I could get used to this!

A briefing...what's to come.

I went to see a wonderful surgeon today who took time out of his weekend to meet with Melvin and me to talk all about my breast cancer.

Dr. Sanan was absolutely amazing. He first asked me if I knew much biology. I laughed and said that the only bio class I took in college was freshman year, Introduction to Life. We had three tests, I pulled an all nighter before each test, aced the class, and didn’t learn a damn thing! He then drew a circle on a piece of paper and told me that was a cell. “You do know that your body is made up of cells?” I giggled, and informed him that Yes, this I knew, but to continue explaining everything as simple as he could, because I really didn’t know much else.

He explained it all very well, without making me feel stupid. He had wonderful analogies and drew great pictures, and even though my mind still wandered sometimes despite the fact that he was a whole three feet in front of me, I still understood almost all of what he said. But please don’t ask me to explain it, because understanding what he said and reiterating what he said are two different levels of comprehension. And I’m not at that higher level.

But this is what I can tell you.

Despite the fact that I’m 34 and don’t have a history of it in my family, I have breast cancer, called Infiltrating Ductal Carcinoma.

On Monday they are doing a PET scan, which involves me drinking some radioactive glucose and then having a scan of my whole body done. Did you get that…radioactive material! Look out Fantastic Four, you might have a fifth mutant on board soon.

Then on Tuesday they’re doing an MRI.

After these tests are done, the doctors will know how exactly to proceed.

But basically Dr. Sahan told me that either at the end of this week or early next week I’ll have surgery. I could have a lumpectomy, but the way he was talking, it will most likely be a mastectomy. Whether it will be a single or a double, the tests will show.

Then because of my age, most likely 3 to 4 weeks later I will start chemotherapy...I think, if I heard it correctly, it could last up to a year.

Whether I will need radiation or hormone therapy will be decided after the tests.

Whether or not I will have reconstructive surgery right away, a couple days later, or months later, if at all, will be determined by the tests this week and whatever I decide.

So that’s what’s going on.

He sent me home with some book on breast cancer, as “homework.” And told me of another book to purchase and read.

Tonight, after spending a couple hours outside with the kids while Melvin got some sleep after a very busy night on call, we headed to the “Great Minnesota Get-together” otherwise known as the “State Fair.” Afterwards, I really wanted nothing to do but take a bath and relax, which usually involves reading a book. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my “homework” that the doctor wanted me to educate myself with. But come on, did I really want to read a book about cancer while trying to relax? Because my other option was Love, Stargirl, the YA sequel to Jerry Spinelli’s Stargirl, which I taught a few years ago and absolutely loved. I was torn. I could be the good “student” that I usually was, or I could just say “screw it” my husband’s a doctor and basically no matter how “informed” I am, I’m just going to ask him his opinion and probably just do what he says anyhow.

“Screw it” won out, and now I’m immersed in the life of the unique but adorable Stargirl as she writes in diary form to her former, and hopefully future love, Leo. It might be hard for me to pick up my assigned homework until this novel is finished. And yet, I don’t think this is an assignment I can turn in late!

Thank you to everyone for your very kind words, thoughts, prayers and abundant offers for help. If I don’t respond to you, please don’t think I’m ignoring you. It’s all so much right now. But please know that right now I feel so loved and surrounded by such amazing family, friends and cyberfriends!

Week from Hell

It rains...it pours...and then sometimes it floods.

It's cancer.

Meeting with the doctor tomorrow.

Will update then.

When it Rains it Pours!

Medical Summary of this week

Cameron:
Has a seizure Monday morning.
Gets an MRI and EEG.
Is diagnosed with Benign Rolandic Epilepsy.
Acts as if nothing ever happened.

Me:
Wednesday morning I feel a large lump in my left breast.
Thursday morning I go in for a Mammogram and Ultrasound.
Doctors decide to do a biopsy...
Probably Fibroadenoma...will eventually have to be surgically removed.
Full results in a day or two.

Max:
Wednesday he complains of his tongue hurting
I find a simple bump on the side of it.
I give him Ambesol, but I don’t think he’ll ever let me do that again.
Thursday he still has the bump.

Of all three of our “medical” issues, guess which one is causing the most commotion in our household!