12/28/11 - Hanging on by a Thread... is still hanging on!

Woke up this morning very tired after a long night of nightmares. Every step to get ready to go to the doctor and to work was met with fighting back tears.  My body is tired and in pain.  I am emotionally exhausted. What happened to my positive state of mind?  I'm hanging on by a thread and I'm a mess.

Stopped by Dr. Covelli's office this morning before work and got all the stitches out and got the drain taken out!  Man, I have some scars!  The scars from five years ago are barely visible now, so these new ones will fade too.  Of course, what does it matter?  The surgeries saved my life!

I thought it would be a complete relief to have the drain out, but it still feels like I have a block under my arm and the sensation that my arm has been burned is still there.  That's a result of the muscles being cut and the surgery irritating the nerves.  That will resolve itself over a period of time.  I also have swelling in my breast, under my arm, and around the corner in my back.  It's pretty painful.  Went online to the American Cancer Society website and found that using an ice pack is the best treatment and drinking lots of water will help reduce the swelling as well.  So I'm using my ice packs that I keep in the studio at work and at home, and am downing the water!

After work, I ran a few errands, did a few chores, and then cried.  And cried.  And cried.  This is not the state of mind I want to be in!  I have no idea why I'm so depressed.  The two surgeries have removed all the cancer.  The chemo and radiation ahead is just "clean up" work.  I'm not afraid of the treatments.  The stitches and drain out today.  Plus, so many folks have stepped up in a multitude of ways to help us, from raking leaves to sending helpful gifts and there has been a constant stream of people at our door delivering food.  Ric and I have been well taken care of and well fed... and loved and prayed for.  Yet, I cry.  I'm tired.  So very tired.  And worry creeps in... if I'm so tired now, how am I going to deal with chemo?  Ric tried to help me.  I know he was confused, unsure what to do.  I told him that just because I was crying didn't mean he had to DO something.  He walked away and let me cry... probably so difficult for him... but the best thing he could do for me at the time.  I NEED my crying time... it will NOT last... I will MOVE thru the emotional difficulties... but I need my crying time... and a truck load of tissues.

Good friends came by later with food in hand!  Encouraged me to come to a party for a mutual friend tomorrow evening.  After they left, Ric and I took our homemade chicken pot pies into the family room and watched the basketball game.  Love our Mountaineers!  A happy ending to the day!

12/28/11 - Pathology Report Results

Briefly...

CANCER TYPE:  Invasive Moderately Differentiated Ductal Carcinoma

TUMOR SIZE:  2.7 cm

AXILLARY LYMPH NODE DISSECTION:  4 of 11 lymph nodes removed contain small clusters of tumor aggregates within the subcapsular sinus. (Essentially, these cells are present in the "lining" of the node, and have not completely invaded the nodes.  This is good!  There is also a possibility that because the amount in the nodes is so small, I will not have to have radiation under my arm.)

CANCER STAGE:  This is debatable.  The size of the tumor definitely moves me into Stage Two.  Some doctors might say the presence of cancer in the lymph nodes is enough to move me into Stage Three.  But because it's such a small amount, it would not necessarily be "wrong" to say it's Stage Two. (Last time, I was a definite Early Stage Three.)

ADDITIONAL FINDINGS:  The tumor cells tested ER/PR Positive and HER Negative.  Doctor says this is good.  (Last time I was "triple negative."  So, this time, I have a completely different kind of cancer.)  I'm a little familiar with what this means, but have to do some more research. 

Next step...
Appointment with my oncologist, Dr. Cohen, at David Lee Cancer Center on Tuesday, January 3.  I assume at that time, we'll discuss what type of chemo I'll receive, for how long, when it will start, and when the surgery to insert a port will be scheduled.  Scans too.  Lots and lots of scans.  I have a scanner at home... can't I just do those myself?

12/25/11 - Christmas Day

Yesterday was my day to be sad that my entire family cannot be together for Christmas.  I mourned it, cried, and today was a good day.  Ric's son, Nic, came down from Marietta, Ohio, and we continued our tradition for when it's just the three of us.  We went out to eat at a Chinese restaurant and then went to a movie.  It was a fun day!  We had a great time together.  Merry Christmas!

12/24/11 - Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve!  A sweet peaceful day.  It should have been.  I woke up this morning, took Bodhi for a walk, came home with the intention of having a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper, while waiting for Ric to wake up.  Instead, I felt empty and crawled back in bed to get warm.  Drifted back to sleep while thoughts of missing my family danced in my head.  When I woke, I couldn’t make myself get up.  My cat, Dot, was lying beside me, and I knew if I could see her face better, I would smile.  It’s hard to turn over with a painful arm and a drain coming out of it, and by the time I adjusted myself so I could see her, she had moved... and her butt was in my face!  Tried to get her to turn around, but she was adamant about making me laugh... only it didn’t work. I just felt sad and depressed, wondering what would I do when I did get up.  Go look at the trio of Christmas trees in front of the fireplace, with no lights, because I couldn’t find the long extension cord?  Stare at the blank space under the trees because I did not shop this year?  I looked at my bare feet and began to remember things that would happen to my body during chemo... my toenails and fingernails would get ugly ridges in them, my skin would be dry, the steroids would make me look like the Pillsbury Doughboy, my hair would fall out to the point I would have to have my head shaved to keep the piles of hair showing up all over the place, I would lose my eyebrows and eyelashes, adding to the Pillsbury Doughboy look.  And then the hardest thoughts to think came crashing in.  Last year, I went to my mom’s house for Christmas.  I didn’t go the year before, so this was the first Christmas being in the house without my dad.  Little did I know at the time that it would be the last year that Mom was in the house at Christmas.  This year her Christmas will be spent in a nursing home and she will have no idea it’s Christmas.  I realized that never again would I experience a family Christmas in the home in which I grew up.  My son and family moved to Indiana this year, and will have little time to visit upon their return to West Virginia for the holidays.  My daughter and family are living in Mexico.  It’s hard to get everyone together when you deal with multiple blended families... but I recall two very special Christmases when we did.  One year we rented a cabin at Stonewall Resort.  Everyone was there on a snowy Christmas Day, fire in the fireplace and deer visiting outside.  A Christmas card Christmas!  And a few years ago, we were all together in our home...  it was a noisy, happy, glorious time.  Everyone was astonished at the perfect Christmas dinner I had prepared, and I especially recall the drum circle that spontaneously formed in one corner of the house... singing and laughing and drumming... oh what a joy filled day.  Today... too quiet for me to bear.  Ric said something to me that I perceived as an angry tone, and I could no longer hold myself together.  I cried and sobbed and wailed.  I wrote an email to my daughter telling her how much I missed her, knowing she was struggling with the same feelings.  I couldn’t decide whether or not to actually send it.  She was glad I did.  It helped us both to acknowledge our sadness and move on.  My day did get better.  I showered and was going to straighten my hair, because I knew that would make me feel good.  Silly me.  However, I couldn’t straighten my right arm enough yet to straighten my hair.  Surprisingly, I did not cry over this.  Although Ric and I have a lot of food in the house, thanks to loving friends, we decided to go to our favorite restaurant, Little India, for a late lunch for Christmas Eve.  Harish and Meena welcomed us like family.  Family.  It felt good to be in their restaurant and they fed us good food and warmed our hearts as always.

I’m better now.  I remain steadfast in the knowledge that what is happening to me is not a tragedy.  My boss, Mike, lost his father yesterday.  Sadness is compounded during the holidays, and I can’t imagine how hard this is for him.  There is little Lydia, who will not get riding toys for Christmas this year, or next, or maybe ever.  There is a young man, with little children, who lost his young wife in a car accident recently.  And countless other tragedies other people are dealing with.  Even my own husband.  His illness (Primary Progressive MS) is so much worse than my condition.  There’s not much hope he’ll regain the loss of muscle in his legs and arm.  I get thru my condition with the comfort of the word “temporary.”  Ric does not have that choice.  There’re a lot of treatments available for the most common form of MS, Relapsing Remitting... but not much for PPMS.  Everything that’s been tried so far has not worked for Ric, but we continue to hope that the next treatment will.  Guess what it is?  Chemotherapy!  We laugh though, as we try to decide whether to have our chemo together or if we should stagger the treatments!  I smile as I remember a night when we were still dating... we were huddled under an umbrella together, running through the rain, with a bottle of wine and cheese & crackers, laughing and giggling, to his cozy place on the East End.  We weren’t thinking about staggering our chemo treatments 10 years later!  LOL!

We have been so loved and cared for and prayed for these last few weeks.  Part of me knows I have no right to be depressed.  And the other part of me knows this little Pity Party is necessary in order to move on to the next step.  Two surgeries in a week’s time?  I willingly went back to work quickly, but I was drained at the end of each day.  Some nights I slept well, some nights I did not.  A tired body leads to a tired mind.  And for me, it was easy for depression to set in.  Especially being the Christmas season.  I gotta put this down on the blog, because I’m surely not the only woman dealing with breast cancer who gets freakin’ sad!  My high-school friend, Diane, commented on my Facebook post the other day, “I don't know how you do it, Jeanne. Keeping up your spirit and sense of humor. You... going through what you do and you still manage to make me smile. I don't have much time to read everything on FB but I try to read your blog. It makes me laugh, and keeps me humble and thankful at the same time. You are so precious. God Bless You!!”  My response was, “From the first thought that I might have cancer again thru the last treatment for it, will probably be about a year's time.  Do I want to spend the next year of my life miserable?  NO!  So the only choice is to live my life as fully as I can, pretty much the same way I always do.  I choose HAPPINESS.  I choose LIFE!!!  And make no mistake, all the prayers and loving support from people like you, Diane, help me to do just that. I love you!”

So today, I’m sticking to it.  I have boxes of kleenex in every room now, just in case the “stickiness” wears off in places, and also so I will never know if I actually go thru a whole box of tissues in one day.  I may have some steps backward now and then, but I will always take bigger and more steps forward. 

Just went to find Dot.  She looked at me as if to say, "Are we okay now?"  Yes, Dot,  we're dancing again."

12/23/11 - Waiting... for Decorations?

Hmmmmm... I think I've used the Waiting title before.  There is a lot of waiting from the time the doctor feels the lump and says, "We need to take a closer look at that" and the time the treatment begins.  Yet, I look back and each period of waiting led to the next step, all of which are necessary for a correct diagnosis and proper treatment.  I've had the mammogram, ultra sound, biopsy, surgery, second surgery, and yesterday I received a call from David Lee Cancer Center and set up an appointment for January 3.  At that time, Dr. Cohen will discuss with Ric and I what kind of chemotherapy I'll receive, on what schedule, and when it will start.  I am content with waiting until after the holidays.  I also know that I'll need a minor surgery to insert the port in my chest (for use in the chemo infusions), a full body scan, and a brain scan.  Always scary to think what they might find in a brain scan, and I'm not talking about cancer!  Oh the things stored in my brain.  LOL!

I was hoping to have less than 40 cc's of fluid coming from the drain by today, so I could have it removed before the weekend.  But no, 45... so I guess this little contraption is going to spend Christmas with me.  In the world of problems, this is no biggie.  My friend, Jamie, decorated her cat's cone with Christmas bows, so I guess I could put a little bow on my drain for Christmas Day.  If a cat can deal with decorated humiliation, so can I!  Ho Ho Ho!

12/21/11 - Waiting... and Voila!

Ric and I are hoping to hear from the doctor today regarding the full pathology report from last week's surgery.  Despite being told it would take a week, we were hoping to hear yesterday too, and the day before, and the day before that.  Ah, waiting is hard!  If the report shows clear zones on the breast tissue and lymph nodes removed, then no more surgeries and onto chemotherapy!  I'm ready to get moving on this little "project!"  I'm also ready to get this dang drain out of my side... I know I'll feel so much better when it's gone.  I was checking online last night and browsing through wigs.  I had 3 wigs the last time and donated two of them to the American Cancer Society, keeping the one my mom and dad bought for me.  If I'm going to lose my hair, I'm going to have fun with it.  And if I'm going to BUY my hair, I'm going to buy STRAIGHT hair.  I've made peace with my curly hair, but I'm going to enjoy having smooth, sleek, shiny, manageable, straight hair for a while.

OH MY!  The phone just rang!  It was Dr. Covelli!  Path report back, no more cancer was found!!!!!  Yippee!  WooHoo!  Thank you, God!  I finally got my "Get Out of Jail Free" card!  Oh man, I am so blessed. 

Next step?  I'll be referred to David Lee Cancer Center again with Dr. Cohen and we'll start chemo sometime after the first of the year.  I will have to have one more minor surgery - and that is to insert a port in my chest for the delivery of chemo, which will be removed after chemo is over.  The port saves  the veins and is a painless way to receive the chemo treatments, so I'm all for it.

Well, good way to start the day!  Thanks for your prayers and loving support.  Yes, I am blessed!

12/19/11 - Time to Get Up and Go!

It's my last day to be lazy.  Back to work tomorrow!  I'm feeling pretty good... but I do enjoy the comforts of home.  I can use my ice pack whenever I need to.  It's easier at home to have my own bathroom to empty the drain on my side.  I can wear soft pajamas all day long.  I can eat and sleep when I want to.  And... I can just LISTEN to V100 Christmas music on the radio!  But I do feel pretty darn good and I am eager to spend time with my V family and friends tomorrow.

Ric went to work this morning, and my dog and cats have been staring at me and at each other, as if to say, "Man, she's still here.  Are we gonna have to cancel the Monday party?!?!"

12/17/11 - Time to Exercise!

My daughter, Jill, was longing to help me deal with the difficulty I was having about the way my body now looks.  She said she had no words of wisdom, but offered this, which are indeed very simple and wise words:  “Number one...remember that all of this is temporary.  Number two...this is treatable.  Number three...the drain will only be there for a few days.  Number four...who cares what your boob looks like.  Number five...you still have both of your breasts.  Number six...you have family and friends and people you don't even know who are praying for you and loving you so much.  And number seven...hey you are allowed to feel this way for a while.  Cry all you want...get it out.  Then think of all the things you have to be grateful for.  Just look at Amaya in her leotard...that will make anyone laugh.”  I was starting to feel better anyway, and this just tipped me right over the edge.  Perfect words, Jill.  Just perfect.  (Four year-old Amaya and her dad are the long, skinny ones in the family.  In this pic, she’s trying to show off her muscles!)

I’m doing much better emotionally today.  I haven’t even needed that one more big crying time.  I’m just working through some minor physical challenges now.  I’m on the mend!

So much going through my head, and yet I’m having trouble getting it down on paper.  My thoughts are broken, as I’m working through these little physical things.  Like the dreaded drain... and “dreaded” only because I’m so squeamish.  Ric stripped the line and emptied the drain for me the day I came home and yesterday morning, but now I’m doing it myself... and the last two times, I did it without feeling like I was going to pass out!  (Actually, I didn’t do it all by myself... whenever I go to the bathroom to do this, Bodhi comes with me, and lies on the floor.)  Check one on my list of “accomplishments.”  LOL!  Anyone who has had lymph nodes removed from their arm, must immediately begin exercises to retain mobility in the arm.  The exercises hurt.  But the doctor assures me that the stitches are not going to rip out.  I know this to be true... I did the exercises in my left arm last time, and have full mobility.  So I’m doing them now, but get frustrated because I can’t lift my arm higher.  I was walking miles a day, and now I can’t lift my arm.  So my next little goal is to check off “having patience” on my accomplishment list!  After having laid down for a nap and when I wake up in the morning, I have searing pain under my arm when I sit/stand up.  I’ve learned to breath easy, let the muscles adjust and the pain gradually subsides to a tolerable level.  So, check one, check three... still working on the patience thing.  I have this desire to go walk for a few miles and do some push-ups, but first I have to lift my arm.  Patience!  Hurry up and get here!

12/16/11 - Coming Home

This is Not a Tragedy

Last night I watched the local news, and saw a sad story about a little girl in our area, Lydia, who just got home from the hospital after a long stay because of a tragic accident, which left her paralyzed from the waist down.  My heart ached for her and for her family.  What a tragedy.  It's absolutely heartbreaking.

As I read through all the comments and posts on Facebook, wishing me well and offering prayers for me and for Ric, I felt a deluge of guilt for all this attention coming my way. Yet I appreciate the tight, strong, supportive "hug" that these posts have provided. But I get this just because I'm in radio?  There are others who need it more than me... because what I'm dealing with is not a tragedy.  It's an illness and one that I will overcome.  I cried as I told this to Ric. 

Ric says it's not meant for me to feel guilty... it's a time for giving everybody a chance to spend time with God in prayer and for folks who don't even know each other to unite in a common cause. Time well spent.  I hope it makes us all feel more loving toward others around us. Everyone has pain.

Back to IHOP

Somehow, last time I was going through cancer treatments, Ric and I got into the habit of going to IHOP for breakfast after procedures, tests, surgeries, treatments, etc.  And now we're doing it again... enjoying blueberry whole-grain pancakes with coffee for Ric and iced tea for me.  Things are slightly different this time around... as we walked in the door today, Ric (because of his MS) was walking with his cane, and I had this stupid (probably life-saving) drain hidden under my clothes... Ric looked at me and said, "Well, here we go.  Cane and Drain!"

Tissue Time

After we got home, it was time for me to remove the outer bandage.  Although I knew a large amount of tissue was removed from my breast, I was shocked when I saw myself.  There is this big dip in my breast, more bruising along with what is still there from last week, a lot of stitches on my breast and a second set under my arm, and that drain hanging out.  I just broke down and sobbed.  All the while, I know that this is what had to be done and I'm fortunate to still have both breasts, but I couldn't believe what I was seeing!  A month ago, I was in perfect health (so I thought) and walking miles a day with my dog... and now I'm standing in my bathroom looking at myself with disbelief.  And feeling quite sorry for myself.  Ric wanted to make it all better for me and I told him I needed to cry... and he let me.  Combined with lack of sleep, I guess this is to be expected.  I think I still need one more good, hard, wailing, sobbing episode... but as we women know... that kind of cry has to be one we have alone.  Once that is done, it is done... and I'll move on.  But for now, I keep tissues handy. 

12/17/11 - Fair Warning

In this blog, I write what I'm feeling and experiencing so that any other woman who is going through this same thing, will know she's not alone in what she's dealing with physically and emotionally.  So if some of the things I post here make you feel uncomfortable, I'm sorry... but I'm sure you understand.

12/15/11 - Second Surgery

Went to the hospital feeling a little anxious, but mostly perky, glad to be getting this next step over with and move on to the next.  Woke up from surgery feeling frightened, shivering, had trouble getting my breath, felt like something was lodged in my throat, and in incredible pain.  The sweet voice of the recovery room nurse, Nikki, informed me that the surgery went well, that I was getting plenty of oxygen, and would be okay.  It was hard to get a deep breath because it caused the pain to be worse, but with Nikki's gentle guidance, I eventually was able to calm down.  Once I was breathing okay, I was given pain meds in my IV, and I relaxed.  Ric was then allowed to come in and I realized when one is feeling quite vulnerable, is when you realize how very much you love someone... what a sense of peace I had looking into Ric's face!

Dr. Covelli removed a large amount of breast tissue, in order to be sure he reached the point where there was no more cancer.  Same with lymph nodes in my arm... he removed a large number to reach a level where the lymph nodes would be clear.  And hopefully... no further surgery will be necessary.  As I knew I would, I have a drain coming out from under my arm, which freaks me out.  You'd think after all this time, I wouldn't be so squeamish, but I am, and it's always a struggle to rise above it.  So this is my first time to recall the word "temporary" that I used so often during my cancer treatments in 2006.  One of my favorite words to help me through the (seemingly) tough parts!

I spent the rest of the day feeling pretty good, with very little pain.  I thought I would sleep through the day, but apparently because of having had surgery just the week before, the staff knew exactly how much anesthetic I would need, so when I woke up... I was awake!  Quite awake... until after 4:00 a.m.  I found out what was on TV in the wee hours of the morning... I watched episodes of Friends, Everybody Loves Raymond, The King of Queens, Seinfeld, and reruns of Jay Leno.  I also realized sometime during the night that I had earlier posted a picture of myself in my little old man hospital gown on Facebook.  Unfortunately, this won't be... temporary.  Oh well, everyone's comments were very kind.  (Thank you.)  Might as well post it here too.

12/14/11 - Well, CRAP!

I promise to come up with better titles for my blog entries, but for now... well, crap!  I thought I was going to get a "Get Out of Jail Free" card, but I landed on Boardwalk... and I didn't own it!  Crap!  Had surgery last Thursday to remove the cancerous lump, and a few lymph nodes were examined.  It appeared as though there was a tiny speck of cancer on one of the lymph nodes.  The full pathology report came back yesterday, and my doctor tells me that not only was there miniscule amounts of cancer in 3 of 4 lymph nodes, but that the margins of the tumor were broken in a small area.  So I go back to surgery tomorrow for another slice of breast tissue to be removed... OUCH!... and an axillary lymph node dissection will be performed, which means additional lymph nodes will be removed.  That's just what I was hoping would not happen.  I recall the lymph node surgery being quite difficult to recover from the last time, and quite painful.  However, I'm prepared for that this time, so I plan to deal with it with less fear.  Additionally, it will now be necessary to receive chemotherapy again, followed by radiation.  Another thing I was hoping to avoid this time around.  Again, I know what to expect, so I'll probably handle that better too.  My doctor told me I could wait until after the holidays to have the surgery if I wanted, but he could do it as earlier as Thursday.  At first I gasped at the thought of having surgery when I'm still bruised, sore and swollen from the last one.  Ric and I discussed it, and I realized I wanted ALL the cancer out of my body as soon as possible.  And as Ric pointed out, why wait until I'm completely healed and then start all over again.  So, I'm going to go for it.  Get 'er done!  (That's the first time I've ever used that phrase!)

The hardest part of this new development was telling my children, Danny and Jill, and telling Ric.  A funny thing happened while Ric and I were hugging each other and crying.  Our dog, Bodhi, starting barking at us.  So we paused to pat his head and tell him all would be okay.  I tried to stop crying, but then found myself just sobbing.  Then Bodhi let out this sad, agonizing, cry of his own.  Ric and I sat down on the bed beside him, and this 60 lb dog moved behind me and wrapped himself around me!  He held me that way for a while, and then he rubbed his head all over my back... it was like a awesome massage!  By this time, Ric and I were in awe and giggling at the same time.  I'm not sure how to interpret what happened, but it was very healing, and I haven't even felt the need to cry since then.

So, it was not the news I wanted to hear, and I kinda feel like I can't wake up from a bad dream right now.  Yet, I know I'm embarking on a journey... one that will be tough at times... but one that is bound to bring some delightful surprises.  At least that's what I learned from Bodhi... who was named before we got him... and which name means "the enlightened one."

12/4/11 - Well, POOP!

A fine way, I say, to wrap up the year of my 5 year anniversary of surviving breast cancer.  Actually, I'm quite okay.  Just wish my little uninvited guest could’ve waited a little longer... say 60 years or so?  So... it appears as though the “Big C” has not returned with a vengeance, but with a little peek through the window, saying, “Yoo-hoo.  My crazy cousin visited you five years ago, but I’m the younger black-sheep of the family... really very nice... but I do like to stir things up a bit now and then.  Just thought I’d check in and see how things are going, and maybe give YOU a chance to stir things up a bit yourself!”  So, okay, I’ll let you stay for a couple more days, but then out you go!

After a mammogram found a suspicious tiny lump in my left breast, followed by another mammogram, ultra sound, and biopsy, and finally surgery on March 8, 2006, I was devastated to learn I had breast cancer.  I was healthy and active, and was shattered to find I had a life-threatening disease.  Another surgery revealed the cancer had spread to lymph nodes, which frightened me even more.  However, after almost a year of aggressive chemotherapy, followed by radiation... I continue to hop, skip and jump on planet earth.  Thinking there was magic in reaching that  “5-Year Mark,” I was pretty sure there was no room in the inn for Big C.  How-ever... at my yearly visit with my oncologist, he felt a “thickening.”  His records indicated it was there before, but said it was much more pronounced now.  So off for another mammogram, which indicated the necessity for an ultra sound.  The ultra sound indicated the necessity for a biopsy.  And the biopsy indicated the necessity for surgery since it revealed that I have... cancer.  My surgeon says it appears that I’m dealing with DCIS (ductal carcinoma in-situ), which is good news, if one receives a cancer diagnosis.  It means that the cancer is contained within the milk duct and has not spread to other areas of the breast and into the lymph nodes. The surgery is scheduled for Thursday morning.  A lumpectomy will be performed and the lymph nodes will be examined.  If the cancer has not spread and is intact within the duct, I will not have to have chemo this time... just radiation. 

The waiting is difficult... but I’m handling it well this time.  I had my crying spells during the first few days of thinking I might have cancer again.  BTW, crying is an essential step in the healing process!  I’ve dealt with cancer before, and I’ll do it again if I have to.  It was tough to tell my children.  I’m worried about being able to walk my dog if I have lymph node surgery.  I really agonize over how Ric, who’s dealing with very progressed MS, is going to manage if I’m incapacitated.  So, I’m hoping that the cancer has not spread and can be cured by the lumpectomy and radiation alone.  In the meantime, I’m soaking up every moment... from the joys of morning coffee with the Sunday Gazette to attending the Landau Eugene Murphy, Jr. Concert at the Clay Center!  Life is good, and as long as I’m alive... well, poop!... I’m going to BE alive!  

Five Years!

When does one declare themselves a 5-year Breast Cancer Survivor?  Some say the day you finish all your treatments - surgery, chemotherapy, radiation.  Some say after the surgery to remove the cancerous lump.  Some say you're a survivor the moment you are diagnosed!  That's the one I've used... until now.  A few days ago, I started remembering that this was about the time five years ago, that I received the call from my doctor that my mammogram needed to be repeated because something suspicious was showing up.  That's when the fear started, so I'm claiming the 5-year mark from the time I began to think there might be cancer in my body... and that was in January 2006!  So there!

Now, about the five year thing.  I'm only using it as a cause to CELEBRATE.  I've not been hanging around these past five years, waiting for the 5 year anniversay to come.  I've not lived one moment of these past five years worrying about whether the cancer has returned.  Not one!  What a waste of time that would have been... to spend five years worrying about something that never happened!  (And if the cancer had returned in these past five years, well, worrying would have still been a waste of time!)  I suppose it might mean something to insurance companies... but to me, it's just a reason to celebrate... and an opportunity to begin speaking about breast cancer awareness on the air again.  (I find myself back on the radio after two years away... so I'm guessing my voice may be needed again... to encourage today's busy women to take the necessary time to have a mammogram.)

If you're reading this for the first time, and want to follow my 2006 journey from the beginning... go to the March 8, 2006 entry and start there.  (I wish there was another way to organize the dates on a blog, but I don't know a way to do that.  If you start with 3/8/06, I think it'll be easy to read everything in order.)  As I always say, this journal is not meant to give anyone advice on how to deal with a cancer diagnosis or suggest treatments... it is just an account of how I dealt with the days from diagnosis to my last radiation treatment.  It's my belief that if we simply share our own journey honestly and openly, others will relate as needed in their own life.  Actually, I hope you enjoy reading the journal!  It's not all about being "sick."  It's about new realizations, how life goes on even during chemo, and the large doses of humor that accompanied me (and my husband, Ric) throughout the year!