Well, I just have the most beautiful little granddaughter in the history of the world!
I've been gone for a while because I went to visit my younger son and his lovely wife and to meet our delightful granddaughter!
Annachiara - now there is a lovely name.
Bless her little sweet self, she is colicky. I know I was SUPER lucky in my babies. My older son, Dante, had colic for one day - the whole livelong day I held him, patted his little back to burp him and comfort him. He was breast fed and I don't remember what it was I had eaten that bothered him (well, it was 32 years ago!), but I did not eat it again! Troy, my new daddy son, never had it.
And now, this little, beautiful girl has colic something fierce! She is inconsolable and exhausts herself with her crying.
Sometimes babies just get colic and there is not necessarily a reason for it that can be determined. It does pass and I hope that will come soon for the sake of all three of them!
They live in Princeton, NJ. It was a two day drive to get there and was very much worth the drive to see the beautiful autumn leaves and to meet our new little princess!
They are under the threat of Hurricane Sandy right now and my prayers are for their safety.
Okay, I obviously started this post and didn't publish it BEFORE Sandy struck.
As of now I have heard from my son only via text. He is in the New Jersey National Guard and is doing National Guard "stuff" to assist those in need as of Monday past.
I am hoping all is well up there and the beauteous Elisa, Annachiara and my sweet son are all safe and well!
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Everything Has a Cost
Everything has a cost. Everything.
Several years ago a friend of mine - Jean Fonvielle, whom I have not seen in years and for whom I hold kind thoughts - was working at Gayfer's. Somehow her conversation with someone working there got around to she believed you never get something for nothing. The individual in question did not want her to think that and gave her a gemstone which Jean subsequently had mounted in a ring. Thus she got something for nothing, no strings attached.
But she really didn't, did she? It didn't cost her any money for the gemstone. The person who gave it to her bore that cost. She had to have it mounted, for which she had to pay. There were no strings attached to the gift of the stone, but there WERE costs attached. She only paid some of the costs.
To breathe in, you have to breathe out. See what I'm saying?
I have been blessed with a spirit of joy.
I KNOW it is a blessing. It is a gift of which I was long unaware.
So many times we walk through life completely oblivious to any and everything around us. We bury ourselves in our own limited and momentary perspective and are blind to what is right there in front of us, right there within us, right there surrounding us, upholding us, blessing us.
We sink in to our own despair and think there is nothing else. We believe that we are alone, abandoned, helpless. We believe that there is nothing more, nothing else, nothing. Nothing.
Oh, it is not the truth.
Look - I have been that sad, broken, lonely, depressed person. I have felt sure I was on my own with no help, no support, no where to turn.
That is illusion.
That is a lie from the depths of hell.
Some of you may not believe in God. Some of you may not believe in a higher power. We can be tainted by misused religion. That is a poison. It, too, comes from the pit.
What I have called my "Black Hole Year" - which is actually longer than a year - was in many ways the most difficult of my life.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was scary, and I cannot adequately relate to you how much anxiety and stress wrapped themselves up in the experience so as to weave their insidious ways throughout my life.
I do believe that the cost of the spirit of joy was the depression, the sadness, the negatives.
The spirit of joy was there ALL THE TIME, but I did not know it. I could not see it. I could not feel it. I could not conceive of it.
This is true because I was allowing myself to feel and see and perceive only the darkness, the sorrow, the weight of the world and its worries.
But you see, the "black hole year", while it was difficult, came to me after I had awakened to the realization that joy was all around me, completely filling me, drowning me in its ebullience, surrounding me and uplifting me - ALWAYS.
I had chosen in my human weakness, my fearfulness and worry to see only the weakness, the fear, the anxiety when all along there was sunshine too.
How many times have you heard that it is all about attitude? Well - hello - it is ALL about attitude!
I very clearly see the unbearable sorrow that is in the world. I know it is there and that I will taste from that bitter cup again many times in my life. Nonetheless I also know that I channel joy and peace and beauty. I guard myself from that weight - I will not watch movies that cause me anxiety, nor read books nor allow people around me that cause me to come under the influence of that which is not good.
I am kind of a Pollyanna, I have discovered. Oh look at that pitcher half full, that silver lining in those gray clouds, those flowers just waiting to bloom forth, the song ready to burst out from the very earth itself!
I have further discovered that it is a wonderful thing to be that way.
I know that God is. I know that He holds me and has always done. I know that he designed and created me for His glory and purpose and to be a light in the darkness.
Everything has a cost. And many times that cost is completely worth it.
Several years ago a friend of mine - Jean Fonvielle, whom I have not seen in years and for whom I hold kind thoughts - was working at Gayfer's. Somehow her conversation with someone working there got around to she believed you never get something for nothing. The individual in question did not want her to think that and gave her a gemstone which Jean subsequently had mounted in a ring. Thus she got something for nothing, no strings attached.
But she really didn't, did she? It didn't cost her any money for the gemstone. The person who gave it to her bore that cost. She had to have it mounted, for which she had to pay. There were no strings attached to the gift of the stone, but there WERE costs attached. She only paid some of the costs.
To breathe in, you have to breathe out. See what I'm saying?
I have been blessed with a spirit of joy.
I KNOW it is a blessing. It is a gift of which I was long unaware.
So many times we walk through life completely oblivious to any and everything around us. We bury ourselves in our own limited and momentary perspective and are blind to what is right there in front of us, right there within us, right there surrounding us, upholding us, blessing us.
We sink in to our own despair and think there is nothing else. We believe that we are alone, abandoned, helpless. We believe that there is nothing more, nothing else, nothing. Nothing.
Oh, it is not the truth.
Look - I have been that sad, broken, lonely, depressed person. I have felt sure I was on my own with no help, no support, no where to turn.
That is illusion.
That is a lie from the depths of hell.
Some of you may not believe in God. Some of you may not believe in a higher power. We can be tainted by misused religion. That is a poison. It, too, comes from the pit.
What I have called my "Black Hole Year" - which is actually longer than a year - was in many ways the most difficult of my life.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was scary, and I cannot adequately relate to you how much anxiety and stress wrapped themselves up in the experience so as to weave their insidious ways throughout my life.
I do believe that the cost of the spirit of joy was the depression, the sadness, the negatives.
The spirit of joy was there ALL THE TIME, but I did not know it. I could not see it. I could not feel it. I could not conceive of it.
This is true because I was allowing myself to feel and see and perceive only the darkness, the sorrow, the weight of the world and its worries.
But you see, the "black hole year", while it was difficult, came to me after I had awakened to the realization that joy was all around me, completely filling me, drowning me in its ebullience, surrounding me and uplifting me - ALWAYS.
I had chosen in my human weakness, my fearfulness and worry to see only the weakness, the fear, the anxiety when all along there was sunshine too.
How many times have you heard that it is all about attitude? Well - hello - it is ALL about attitude!
I very clearly see the unbearable sorrow that is in the world. I know it is there and that I will taste from that bitter cup again many times in my life. Nonetheless I also know that I channel joy and peace and beauty. I guard myself from that weight - I will not watch movies that cause me anxiety, nor read books nor allow people around me that cause me to come under the influence of that which is not good.
I am kind of a Pollyanna, I have discovered. Oh look at that pitcher half full, that silver lining in those gray clouds, those flowers just waiting to bloom forth, the song ready to burst out from the very earth itself!
I have further discovered that it is a wonderful thing to be that way.
I know that God is. I know that He holds me and has always done. I know that he designed and created me for His glory and purpose and to be a light in the darkness.
Everything has a cost. And many times that cost is completely worth it.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
been a while...
I ran across the following video and wanted to share it. I grabbed it and then I couldn't figure out how to post it with my comments so I posted and am NOW commenting.
"The Hurt & The Healer" - what a great title. I wanted to share because this is such a beautiful song and it very much encapsulates some of my experience over what I call my "black hole" year. Okay it's more than a year, but then wouldn't a black hole literally ignore time as well as matter in its' devouring of both?
So I ask you to listen, read the lyrics if you are more visual than auditory and understand, please, that I feel so very blessed and so amazingly, astoundingly WONDERFUL!
If I could shine my light of love out to you all in the manner it feels inside of me it might just blind you.
In a good way...
"The Hurt & The Healer" - what a great title. I wanted to share because this is such a beautiful song and it very much encapsulates some of my experience over what I call my "black hole" year. Okay it's more than a year, but then wouldn't a black hole literally ignore time as well as matter in its' devouring of both?
So I ask you to listen, read the lyrics if you are more visual than auditory and understand, please, that I feel so very blessed and so amazingly, astoundingly WONDERFUL!
If I could shine my light of love out to you all in the manner it feels inside of me it might just blind you.
In a good way...
Saturday, September 1, 2012
So call me Mimi
My "baby" is a daddy!
This precious little person has come into the world - a bit earlier than expected, yet she is a good sized little girl who holds the promise of tomorrow in her tiny little hands, the beauty of life itself beats in her wee heart. She is beautiful and precious.
Annachiara; light of grace. Her middle name is my mother's. Mind you, when I discussed the meaning of her name with "daddy", he had to argue with me that it meant "grace light" -- he loves to argue. Let me rephrase that --- he L-O-V-E-S to argue. So think what you like, son of mine; 'Light of grace' has a nicer poetry to it than 'grace light' does. Regardless, she has brought the light of grace with her into this world.
Many blessings to my son and sweet Elisa, my daughter (in-law) and the little one.
This precious little person has come into the world - a bit earlier than expected, yet she is a good sized little girl who holds the promise of tomorrow in her tiny little hands, the beauty of life itself beats in her wee heart. She is beautiful and precious.
Annachiara; light of grace. Her middle name is my mother's. Mind you, when I discussed the meaning of her name with "daddy", he had to argue with me that it meant "grace light" -- he loves to argue. Let me rephrase that --- he L-O-V-E-S to argue. So think what you like, son of mine; 'Light of grace' has a nicer poetry to it than 'grace light' does. Regardless, she has brought the light of grace with her into this world.
Many blessings to my son and sweet Elisa, my daughter (in-law) and the little one.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Oops - A Diatribe.
"Save the Ta-Tas" -- you've seen this bumper sticker, I'm sure.
"Making Strides Against Breast Cancer" - walking to fund raise while wearing bedazzled, be-feathered, be-sparkled bras as your outerwear and "symbol" of your anti-breast cancer support and mindset.
'You can be registered to win a tailgate package (of the team of your choice!) by registering your team to walk!'
Battle of the Bling MSABC (That is Making Strides Against Breast Cancer) kickoff party! - Put on your pink bra!
Cupcakes for the Cure! Tangerine Ta-Tas! Java Jugs! Honeynut Hooters! Coconut Milkshakes! Mango Melons!
Let's have FUN "fighting" breast cancer!
Please. (Detect extreme sarcasm there.)
Is that all I am? A pair of boobies? Going by that standard I no longer exist because I don't have them anymore - at all!
I am not a body part. They were a part of my body.
Cancer - of any type, any stage, at any and at ALL times - is NOT fun.
Oh- maybe my attitude is off!
We all should have our bodies mutilated together, because regardless of what procedure you have done, you feel mutilated. Then we will all take deadly toxins into our bodies together - OOOH!!! Come on people, we'll have a blast together! We can do this! Hey - don't forget to bring your insurance card, if you have one! Otherwise bring money, lots of money. Let's have a commode hugging party! Decorate your commode with sequins, feathers, balloons and such! Come on down folks and we'll vomit ourselves silly! Won't that be FUN?!! Hey, everybody - bring your clippers (appropriately bedazzled, pink, feathered and if you could make them play a jolly tune that would be SO great!!) and we'll all shave our heads together because that is how every woman wants to look!! And don't forget to shave eyebrows, eyelashes, nostrils, etc. If it is hair - it must GO!! Let's increase our risk of getting more cancer by having radiation too!
Doesn't this sound like fun to you? No? Really?
Then there must be something wrong with you because this is just a lighthearted way to cure cancer!! It's just a fun way to support our friends, wives, sisters, neighbors or maybe somebody's next door neighbor's cousin's friend's sister. What is wrong with you? Have a booby shaped decorated cupcake that I bought to support breast cancer patients that a small portion of the cost will eventually go to a breast cancer site - or maybe it will.
Every year - EVERY year - 40,000 women in the United States alone die from breast cancer.
Hmm. That didn't make me laugh. That didn't amuse me. That did not make me have any fun at all.
Perhaps if I gave some money to an institution that will give money to Planned Parenthood that will help find a cure for Breast Cancer. Wait a minute. I don't think that paying for abortions will help fight cancer.
Killing the unborn neither prevents nor cures cancer. It simply and horribly kills the unborn.
Running around having FUN wearing bright pink fancied bras as outer wear doesn't do much for it either. At least that doesn't kill any one. If, as a breast cancer warrior-goddess, you find it amusing or whatever and you don't mind the whole ta-tas thing - well go for it. YOU certainly have earned that right and privilege.
I simply find the sexualization of breast cancer and thereby we survivors patently offensive.
I'm tired of the battle. I can't afford to be tired of the battle.
Look, MY battle is Stage 3A Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Estrogen Receptor Positive, Progesterone Receptor Positive, HER2/neu Receptor Positive, lymph node involved (9 out of 12 removed were involved), bilateral mastectomy, Taxotere - Carboplatin - Herceptin chemo (oh yeah, the Herceptin was a whole year), 35 rounds of radiation battle. Any cancer that I get for the rest of my life will be considered a breast cancer metastasis.
Breast cancer loves to go to the skin. Breast cancer loves to go to the bone. HER2/neu positive breast cancer loves to go to the brain. Oh good.
Is it possible I will have a recurrence anywhere? Yes, it is. Is it possible I may never again have any cancer? Yes, it is.
I have received many blessings during this battle and I would not wish them away. Nor would I wish this battle on anyone -- ANYONE!
My money for cancer cure will go to The Mary Kay Foundation. They fund ONLY against domestic violence and for research into the cure and prevention of cancer that primarily affects women. Look them up at www.marykayfoundation.org.
Just please - stop trying to "make it fun" or to sexualize this mess to me. The majority of people in America, those lucky many, don't "get" cancer - psychologically as well as they don't get the disease itself. Well God Bless them. Count yourselves as blessed if you have no personal experience there.
Let those of us who have been down this road be the ones who have advice for the trip.
"Making Strides Against Breast Cancer" - walking to fund raise while wearing bedazzled, be-feathered, be-sparkled bras as your outerwear and "symbol" of your anti-breast cancer support and mindset.
'You can be registered to win a tailgate package (of the team of your choice!) by registering your team to walk!'
Battle of the Bling MSABC (That is Making Strides Against Breast Cancer) kickoff party! - Put on your pink bra!
Cupcakes for the Cure! Tangerine Ta-Tas! Java Jugs! Honeynut Hooters! Coconut Milkshakes! Mango Melons!
Let's have FUN "fighting" breast cancer!
Please. (Detect extreme sarcasm there.)
Is that all I am? A pair of boobies? Going by that standard I no longer exist because I don't have them anymore - at all!
I am not a body part. They were a part of my body.
Cancer - of any type, any stage, at any and at ALL times - is NOT fun.
Oh- maybe my attitude is off!
We all should have our bodies mutilated together, because regardless of what procedure you have done, you feel mutilated. Then we will all take deadly toxins into our bodies together - OOOH!!! Come on people, we'll have a blast together! We can do this! Hey - don't forget to bring your insurance card, if you have one! Otherwise bring money, lots of money. Let's have a commode hugging party! Decorate your commode with sequins, feathers, balloons and such! Come on down folks and we'll vomit ourselves silly! Won't that be FUN?!! Hey, everybody - bring your clippers (appropriately bedazzled, pink, feathered and if you could make them play a jolly tune that would be SO great!!) and we'll all shave our heads together because that is how every woman wants to look!! And don't forget to shave eyebrows, eyelashes, nostrils, etc. If it is hair - it must GO!! Let's increase our risk of getting more cancer by having radiation too!
Doesn't this sound like fun to you? No? Really?
Then there must be something wrong with you because this is just a lighthearted way to cure cancer!! It's just a fun way to support our friends, wives, sisters, neighbors or maybe somebody's next door neighbor's cousin's friend's sister. What is wrong with you? Have a booby shaped decorated cupcake that I bought to support breast cancer patients that a small portion of the cost will eventually go to a breast cancer site - or maybe it will.
Every year - EVERY year - 40,000 women in the United States alone die from breast cancer.
Hmm. That didn't make me laugh. That didn't amuse me. That did not make me have any fun at all.
Perhaps if I gave some money to an institution that will give money to Planned Parenthood that will help find a cure for Breast Cancer. Wait a minute. I don't think that paying for abortions will help fight cancer.
Killing the unborn neither prevents nor cures cancer. It simply and horribly kills the unborn.
Running around having FUN wearing bright pink fancied bras as outer wear doesn't do much for it either. At least that doesn't kill any one. If, as a breast cancer warrior-goddess, you find it amusing or whatever and you don't mind the whole ta-tas thing - well go for it. YOU certainly have earned that right and privilege.
I simply find the sexualization of breast cancer and thereby we survivors patently offensive.
I'm tired of the battle. I can't afford to be tired of the battle.
Look, MY battle is Stage 3A Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Estrogen Receptor Positive, Progesterone Receptor Positive, HER2/neu Receptor Positive, lymph node involved (9 out of 12 removed were involved), bilateral mastectomy, Taxotere - Carboplatin - Herceptin chemo (oh yeah, the Herceptin was a whole year), 35 rounds of radiation battle. Any cancer that I get for the rest of my life will be considered a breast cancer metastasis.
Breast cancer loves to go to the skin. Breast cancer loves to go to the bone. HER2/neu positive breast cancer loves to go to the brain. Oh good.
Is it possible I will have a recurrence anywhere? Yes, it is. Is it possible I may never again have any cancer? Yes, it is.
I have received many blessings during this battle and I would not wish them away. Nor would I wish this battle on anyone -- ANYONE!
My money for cancer cure will go to The Mary Kay Foundation. They fund ONLY against domestic violence and for research into the cure and prevention of cancer that primarily affects women. Look them up at www.marykayfoundation.org.
Just please - stop trying to "make it fun" or to sexualize this mess to me. The majority of people in America, those lucky many, don't "get" cancer - psychologically as well as they don't get the disease itself. Well God Bless them. Count yourselves as blessed if you have no personal experience there.
Let those of us who have been down this road be the ones who have advice for the trip.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
They Really Should "Talk American"
So -
I had the requested MUGA on Friday August 3 and my postponed 3 month check with my doctor yesterday, August 6th.
MUGA results being more accurate, my ejection fraction has increased wonderfully to 55%. This is quite, quite good. A normal ejection fraction is 50% or higher. I had originally typed "rejection fraction" which kind of makes me laugh here. What is that - how many times you can tolerate rejection in life? One had best hope for a VERY HIGH number there!!
We went over my PET/CT results. They were not bad. So saying they had a couple of minor anomalies which are most likely nothing of any real significance.
The wonderful Dr. Rassam does want me to have another PET/CT scan because I have a -- and I quote --"small hypermetabolic focus superficial to the right lateral sixth rib. This is new and of uncertain significance."
Reading the report is why I titled this post rather tongue in cheek. I do speak English -American English- pretty well. I know it is not "talk American' and thus the joke of the title... Do I have to explain the humor right out of a humorous situation? Actually, I know that I do for some people! I am amused so too bad for the rest of you....
Additionally on the report is Impression 2. "Peripherally calcified adnexal lesion likely representing a calcified hemorrhagic cyst." and 3."Cardiomegaly."
Oh dear - doesn't that sound just horrible? However - it is medical speak for mostly negligible things. The item 2 is likely an ovarian cyst which has burst (bled) and calcified and is not likely anything. Item 3 which was in the more detailed section of the report listed as borderline means a borderline (and therefore SLIGHTLY) enlarged heart.
Well, it is not a good thing to have an enlarged heart as it likely indicated for one thing hypertension, aka high blood pressure. I am quick to assure you my blood pressure is always, always good. When I was so hugely pregnant (many, many years ago) that I looked and felt like I would pop at any moment like a balloon and fly off into the outer atmosphere - my blood pressure even then, was always good.
So of these 3 things mentioned, which are all pretty much negligible and likely unimportant, the "new and uncertain significance" deal on the right 6th rib is of minor potential concern. My tumors were on the right, it really has appeared as though all cancer has been obliterated, and so saying - it's just a little weird. It appears to be muscular and therefore NOT skeletal (breast cancer loves to go to bones), and could have something to do with radiation.
Regardless, a PET scan will be done again to make sure all is well.
My dear husband asked me if I am worried about this. I really must say I am not. First of all, there is not a single thing I can do about it. I am taking good care of myself, which includes taking good care of my attitude, and I really do feel so absolutely marvelous. Secondly, I trust my Oncology team and oh, go on down the hardest road -- should some horrible horrible cancer word decide to worm its way back into my life - I know I will be graced once again with blessings to surround me.
Life is so beautiful, and I am looking forward with great anticipation to the birth of my first little granddaughter Annachiara. (What a great coming attraction!)
I had the requested MUGA on Friday August 3 and my postponed 3 month check with my doctor yesterday, August 6th.
MUGA results being more accurate, my ejection fraction has increased wonderfully to 55%. This is quite, quite good. A normal ejection fraction is 50% or higher. I had originally typed "rejection fraction" which kind of makes me laugh here. What is that - how many times you can tolerate rejection in life? One had best hope for a VERY HIGH number there!!
We went over my PET/CT results. They were not bad. So saying they had a couple of minor anomalies which are most likely nothing of any real significance.
The wonderful Dr. Rassam does want me to have another PET/CT scan because I have a -- and I quote --"small hypermetabolic focus superficial to the right lateral sixth rib. This is new and of uncertain significance."
Reading the report is why I titled this post rather tongue in cheek. I do speak English -American English- pretty well. I know it is not "talk American' and thus the joke of the title... Do I have to explain the humor right out of a humorous situation? Actually, I know that I do for some people! I am amused so too bad for the rest of you....
Additionally on the report is Impression 2. "Peripherally calcified adnexal lesion likely representing a calcified hemorrhagic cyst." and 3."Cardiomegaly."
Oh dear - doesn't that sound just horrible? However - it is medical speak for mostly negligible things. The item 2 is likely an ovarian cyst which has burst (bled) and calcified and is not likely anything. Item 3 which was in the more detailed section of the report listed as borderline means a borderline (and therefore SLIGHTLY) enlarged heart.
Well, it is not a good thing to have an enlarged heart as it likely indicated for one thing hypertension, aka high blood pressure. I am quick to assure you my blood pressure is always, always good. When I was so hugely pregnant (many, many years ago) that I looked and felt like I would pop at any moment like a balloon and fly off into the outer atmosphere - my blood pressure even then, was always good.
So of these 3 things mentioned, which are all pretty much negligible and likely unimportant, the "new and uncertain significance" deal on the right 6th rib is of minor potential concern. My tumors were on the right, it really has appeared as though all cancer has been obliterated, and so saying - it's just a little weird. It appears to be muscular and therefore NOT skeletal (breast cancer loves to go to bones), and could have something to do with radiation.
Regardless, a PET scan will be done again to make sure all is well.
My dear husband asked me if I am worried about this. I really must say I am not. First of all, there is not a single thing I can do about it. I am taking good care of myself, which includes taking good care of my attitude, and I really do feel so absolutely marvelous. Secondly, I trust my Oncology team and oh, go on down the hardest road -- should some horrible horrible cancer word decide to worm its way back into my life - I know I will be graced once again with blessings to surround me.
Life is so beautiful, and I am looking forward with great anticipation to the birth of my first little granddaughter Annachiara. (What a great coming attraction!)
Saturday, July 28, 2012
well, that's not too good...
Yes, all lower case for the Post title...
My oncologist had wanted me to have a MUGA after finishing my year of Herceptin infusions. My insurance didn't want to pay for one as they deemed it potentially unnecessary. In fairness to them - had it been out of my own pocket I would have said the same thing. It is a negotiated rate of $688 per MUGA!! (That is Multiple Gated Acquisition Scan, a nuclear medicine exam.)
So, instead I had an echocardiogram. I must say, that was a pretty cool test. It hurt because of the hypersensitivity issue I have, but the woman who administered it was very kind and tried her best to be gentle. An echocardiogram is kind of an ultrasound of the heart, if you will. So I watched on the screen as my heart beat its lovely way through the exam. The examiner commented (as we chatted) that it looked kind of low as it measured my ejection fraction, but the Doctor would be able to determine accurately and report to my oncologist.
So yesterday morning my sweet Pamela from TCI (my oncologist's office) called to let me know there was a MUGA scheduled.
What? That pretty much was my response, btw. What? A MUGA? And insurance approved this?
Yes, was the answer to the above. So now instead of seeing Dr. Rassam for my first 3 month follow up on Monday, I will not see him until the following Monday as I have been scheduled for the muga on Friday August 3rd.
Hmm.
Herceptin can cause damage to the heart muscle, and obviously, it HAS done. This is reversible, and I expect a positive result of healing.
I feel great! Of course, I really have an altered and positive perspective on feeling great because I know just how bad you can feel. So I know that a bad day - is a FABULOUS day, and that feeling what some people would call bad is totally wonderful and awesome!
Regardless, I really do feel great!!! Thinking about the possibility of having some weakening to my heart right now, that would explain why I hit the wall as soon as I do. I just sort of run out of gas and need to rest. At which time -- I rest. I am doing my best to eat right, drink enough, rest enough, exercise enough, etc. What else can one do?
So I will just have to be a little patient and I leave this all in God's hands.
He has my back....
My oncologist had wanted me to have a MUGA after finishing my year of Herceptin infusions. My insurance didn't want to pay for one as they deemed it potentially unnecessary. In fairness to them - had it been out of my own pocket I would have said the same thing. It is a negotiated rate of $688 per MUGA!! (That is Multiple Gated Acquisition Scan, a nuclear medicine exam.)
So, instead I had an echocardiogram. I must say, that was a pretty cool test. It hurt because of the hypersensitivity issue I have, but the woman who administered it was very kind and tried her best to be gentle. An echocardiogram is kind of an ultrasound of the heart, if you will. So I watched on the screen as my heart beat its lovely way through the exam. The examiner commented (as we chatted) that it looked kind of low as it measured my ejection fraction, but the Doctor would be able to determine accurately and report to my oncologist.
So yesterday morning my sweet Pamela from TCI (my oncologist's office) called to let me know there was a MUGA scheduled.
What? That pretty much was my response, btw. What? A MUGA? And insurance approved this?
Yes, was the answer to the above. So now instead of seeing Dr. Rassam for my first 3 month follow up on Monday, I will not see him until the following Monday as I have been scheduled for the muga on Friday August 3rd.
Hmm.
Herceptin can cause damage to the heart muscle, and obviously, it HAS done. This is reversible, and I expect a positive result of healing.
I feel great! Of course, I really have an altered and positive perspective on feeling great because I know just how bad you can feel. So I know that a bad day - is a FABULOUS day, and that feeling what some people would call bad is totally wonderful and awesome!
Regardless, I really do feel great!!! Thinking about the possibility of having some weakening to my heart right now, that would explain why I hit the wall as soon as I do. I just sort of run out of gas and need to rest. At which time -- I rest. I am doing my best to eat right, drink enough, rest enough, exercise enough, etc. What else can one do?
So I will just have to be a little patient and I leave this all in God's hands.
He has my back....
Thursday, July 12, 2012
QUICK update...
Just a little wee post to say I have, indeed, survived the surgical procedure. I have some discomfort--okay, no real feeling at all at the mastectomy site(s), but where new tissue at the sides was cut away --OOOOWWWW!!
Naturally I have also been actually expecting to get up and run a marathon but find I am easily fatigued, a bit queasy, I do remember sleeping and I also recall what it is like to feel comfortable. Well, a return to those feelings will come soon enough!
If that sounds like a complaint, please be assured I am still excited about this procedure and finding out just what an improvement this will make. I maintain a positive attitude, I am so very blessed with a loving and supportive husband, and I feel a mental outlook improvement regardless!
Naturally I have also been actually expecting to get up and run a marathon but find I am easily fatigued, a bit queasy, I do remember sleeping and I also recall what it is like to feel comfortable. Well, a return to those feelings will come soon enough!
If that sounds like a complaint, please be assured I am still excited about this procedure and finding out just what an improvement this will make. I maintain a positive attitude, I am so very blessed with a loving and supportive husband, and I feel a mental outlook improvement regardless!
Monday, July 9, 2012
And in this corner.....
Tomorrow afternoon I have a surgical procedure scheduled. This is procedure is strictly voluntary.
My sister had talked to me about it with concern that I might be anxious and unable to sleep because of it. Yes, admittedly, that has been my MO in the past during the "procedures period." I'm calling it that now. I just started doing so.
I don't feel anxious about tomorrow's main event, however. I am rather excited.
Classify this entry under "more than you probably want to know" and sort of under "more than I want you to know"!!
When you have a mastectomy, you have a certain idea in your head of what you will look like. I know this for a fact. You, dear readers, will have to take my word for it.
What you end up with, is NOT what you had in your mind. Not at all like what you had in your mind.
When I came home from the hospital last February I felt like and saw a Technicolor-3-dimensional-topographic-map-of-a-railroad-crash-nightmare-scene-from-a-horror-movie.
Tape came off, drains were removed, staples removed, swelling reduced. Now here I sit almost 17 months later.
I still FEEL much as I did about the scene of the crime. (See technicolor 3D etc.) It really does not look the same as it did post surgery, however. I look at myself and I will tell you, it is rather like I suspect a landscape would look like many months after a terrible train crash. Something happened here. Something not good.
It is the wreckage of this body.
I do my best to cover myself so that my husband doesn't see me. It is something embarrassing; unattractive where there was once beauty.
So tomorrow I go to my plastic surgeon and whatever happens will be an improvement.
I am not getting "the girls" put back in place. I just want to be smoothed out. THAT, I can live with. I can live with it and feel so much better about my physical aspect!!
My husband told me yesterday that someone at church had told me how beautiful I looked and healthy and that he was a lucky man. He told them, yes he was a lucky man.
Mind you, my dear sweet husband tells me I am beautiful. He gives me the words and he walks the walk, as it were. And he loves me, oh I know he loves me.
And yet when he tells me I am beautiful there is this little part of me who says inside "Are you insane??? Have you gone blind?? Have you seen this body?? WHAT are you finding physically attractive??? Fibber."
I don't say that aloud, and I truly love and respect my husband. But, oh that little voice....
Because I have seen the wreckage. It is all part of this gordian knot that afflicts me and I will NOT let cancer claim a victory in my private life, thank you very much!
Thus - the procedure I will have tomorrow; thus the excitement I am feeling about it.
And thus - My reclaiming that which is mine - MY body, MY mind, MY battered and bruised psyche.
I am woman, I AM a warrior princess cancer kicking survivor woman. I do own beauty. And tomorrow I start to claim it back as my own.
Round 1 went to cancer with a sucker punch. We're up to round 15 now - and I have battled and won every round. Tomorrow will be the knockout punch.
My sister had talked to me about it with concern that I might be anxious and unable to sleep because of it. Yes, admittedly, that has been my MO in the past during the "procedures period." I'm calling it that now. I just started doing so.
I don't feel anxious about tomorrow's main event, however. I am rather excited.
Classify this entry under "more than you probably want to know" and sort of under "more than I want you to know"!!
When you have a mastectomy, you have a certain idea in your head of what you will look like. I know this for a fact. You, dear readers, will have to take my word for it.
What you end up with, is NOT what you had in your mind. Not at all like what you had in your mind.
When I came home from the hospital last February I felt like and saw a Technicolor-3-dimensional-topographic-map-of-a-railroad-crash-nightmare-scene-from-a-horror-movie.
Tape came off, drains were removed, staples removed, swelling reduced. Now here I sit almost 17 months later.
I still FEEL much as I did about the scene of the crime. (See technicolor 3D etc.) It really does not look the same as it did post surgery, however. I look at myself and I will tell you, it is rather like I suspect a landscape would look like many months after a terrible train crash. Something happened here. Something not good.
It is the wreckage of this body.
I do my best to cover myself so that my husband doesn't see me. It is something embarrassing; unattractive where there was once beauty.
So tomorrow I go to my plastic surgeon and whatever happens will be an improvement.
I am not getting "the girls" put back in place. I just want to be smoothed out. THAT, I can live with. I can live with it and feel so much better about my physical aspect!!
My husband told me yesterday that someone at church had told me how beautiful I looked and healthy and that he was a lucky man. He told them, yes he was a lucky man.
Mind you, my dear sweet husband tells me I am beautiful. He gives me the words and he walks the walk, as it were. And he loves me, oh I know he loves me.
And yet when he tells me I am beautiful there is this little part of me who says inside "Are you insane??? Have you gone blind?? Have you seen this body?? WHAT are you finding physically attractive??? Fibber."
I don't say that aloud, and I truly love and respect my husband. But, oh that little voice....
Because I have seen the wreckage. It is all part of this gordian knot that afflicts me and I will NOT let cancer claim a victory in my private life, thank you very much!
Thus - the procedure I will have tomorrow; thus the excitement I am feeling about it.
And thus - My reclaiming that which is mine - MY body, MY mind, MY battered and bruised psyche.
I am woman, I AM a warrior princess cancer kicking survivor woman. I do own beauty. And tomorrow I start to claim it back as my own.
Round 1 went to cancer with a sucker punch. We're up to round 15 now - and I have battled and won every round. Tomorrow will be the knockout punch.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
I Love a Good Day Above Ground...HOW did I forget to post this???
I must add, of course, that ANY day above ground is a good day....
God's blessings on all; Happy Easter! I know today is Good Friday so the Easter greeting is a wee premature. Nonetheless, I will not be posting again prior to Easter so I reiterate - Happy Easter.
When I last saw my surgeon, Dr. Z, I had asked him for a referral to a "plastic" surgeon. I received a call and an appointment from Dr. R AND I was considering checking out going to Moffitt again.
The appointment with Dr. R was postponed for a week and every day I was going to cancel it altogether! I was actually making myself sick with anxiety about a consultation. I would waffle and flip-flop about what I was wanting to do and changing my mind every six seconds about going. I finally figured I was just not ready to do anything and perhaps psychological counseling was all that I needed.
Okay - I probably need psychological counseling for any number of reasons anyway. Don't you???
This past Monday I woke up after a rather sleepless and anxiety filled night. My husband and I went for a walk, discussed this and I decided to just cancel the appointment that was scheduled for 4 that afternoon. When I got home I had to get the referral information from my calendar and then realized that the appointment was actually at 9:30, I had missed it and had to apologize for this. In just that instant I decided I DID want to confer and in that same moment the receptionist said - we do have a cancellation at 11:45 if you could come in then.
Oh.
So suddenly I want to talk to the man, I have an appointment available AND my husband - who was not going to be able to go with me now could go with me because of the time frame.
Still, I am fraught with anxiety about the whole situation.... We have to drive in in separate vehicles as Ruben is going to work after the appointment; yet something else that was simply rearranged by the hand of God as he normally goes in to work by 8 on Mondays...
I find that I really like the doctor, he has a pleasant and reassuring manner, not condescending at all. He answers questions I didn't really know I had as well as answering the questions I did have.
My insurance will cover 100% of this, I don't have to wait until October (a year after the end of my radiation treatments) since I will not be having to expand the tissue, the surgery will be much simpler than the mastectomy surgery, simpler than any "adding back" reconstruction. In fact I can have this procedure done about 4 to 6 weeks after my final Herceptin infusion.
In case you had no idea - I just want to be 'smoothed out'...
I had "the girls" for a long time! Was this whole deal a shock? Hello... here's the big clue;
CANCER!
It will freak you out and fry your brain cells with anxiety and fear.
So saying, it will spur you to seriously take action. At least it did in my case!!
Ruben and I discussed every imaginable situation and decided (read that talked and talked and talked about) each step we would take.
I have actually enjoyed being able to grab a cute camisole and a light shirt and I am done - ready to go and if I get too warm - great! I can take off the light shirt and I'm still covered and not having those girls all over the place.
Because let's face facts - those girls were EVERYWHERE!!!
So I am nearing the end of this journey at last. Okay, correction; I am nearing the end of this part of this journey. I will have my last Herceptin infusion April 19th. Four to six weeks later I will have a procedure performed - the ONE procedure I will have - to just smooth me out.
Recovery from that procedure and then - hold the phone!! I can actually get back in step for a whole life.
God's blessings on all; Happy Easter! I know today is Good Friday so the Easter greeting is a wee premature. Nonetheless, I will not be posting again prior to Easter so I reiterate - Happy Easter.
When I last saw my surgeon, Dr. Z, I had asked him for a referral to a "plastic" surgeon. I received a call and an appointment from Dr. R AND I was considering checking out going to Moffitt again.
The appointment with Dr. R was postponed for a week and every day I was going to cancel it altogether! I was actually making myself sick with anxiety about a consultation. I would waffle and flip-flop about what I was wanting to do and changing my mind every six seconds about going. I finally figured I was just not ready to do anything and perhaps psychological counseling was all that I needed.
Okay - I probably need psychological counseling for any number of reasons anyway. Don't you???
This past Monday I woke up after a rather sleepless and anxiety filled night. My husband and I went for a walk, discussed this and I decided to just cancel the appointment that was scheduled for 4 that afternoon. When I got home I had to get the referral information from my calendar and then realized that the appointment was actually at 9:30, I had missed it and had to apologize for this. In just that instant I decided I DID want to confer and in that same moment the receptionist said - we do have a cancellation at 11:45 if you could come in then.
Oh.
So suddenly I want to talk to the man, I have an appointment available AND my husband - who was not going to be able to go with me now could go with me because of the time frame.
Still, I am fraught with anxiety about the whole situation.... We have to drive in in separate vehicles as Ruben is going to work after the appointment; yet something else that was simply rearranged by the hand of God as he normally goes in to work by 8 on Mondays...
I find that I really like the doctor, he has a pleasant and reassuring manner, not condescending at all. He answers questions I didn't really know I had as well as answering the questions I did have.
My insurance will cover 100% of this, I don't have to wait until October (a year after the end of my radiation treatments) since I will not be having to expand the tissue, the surgery will be much simpler than the mastectomy surgery, simpler than any "adding back" reconstruction. In fact I can have this procedure done about 4 to 6 weeks after my final Herceptin infusion.
In case you had no idea - I just want to be 'smoothed out'...
I had "the girls" for a long time! Was this whole deal a shock? Hello... here's the big clue;
CANCER!
It will freak you out and fry your brain cells with anxiety and fear.
So saying, it will spur you to seriously take action. At least it did in my case!!
Ruben and I discussed every imaginable situation and decided (read that talked and talked and talked about) each step we would take.
I have actually enjoyed being able to grab a cute camisole and a light shirt and I am done - ready to go and if I get too warm - great! I can take off the light shirt and I'm still covered and not having those girls all over the place.
Because let's face facts - those girls were EVERYWHERE!!!
So I am nearing the end of this journey at last. Okay, correction; I am nearing the end of this part of this journey. I will have my last Herceptin infusion April 19th. Four to six weeks later I will have a procedure performed - the ONE procedure I will have - to just smooth me out.
Recovery from that procedure and then - hold the phone!! I can actually get back in step for a whole life.
Friday, April 20, 2012
I Interrupt This (Resurrection) Story...
Just a quick post of exultation!!!
Yesterday was my last infusion! No more deadly chemicals being pumped into my body!
Oh frabjous day, callou, callay... (Hmm, on reflection - is my spelling correct there? Oh who cares? Point is made..)
I have a cat scan scheduled for April 30th, a MUGA in June with a follow up appointment with my dear onco (that is said with sincerity) where I expect to be told that I am in absolutely FABULOUS health!!
Hmm, which cat shall I scan??
Yesterday was my last infusion! No more deadly chemicals being pumped into my body!
Oh frabjous day, callou, callay... (Hmm, on reflection - is my spelling correct there? Oh who cares? Point is made..)
I have a cat scan scheduled for April 30th, a MUGA in June with a follow up appointment with my dear onco (that is said with sincerity) where I expect to be told that I am in absolutely FABULOUS health!!
Hmm, which cat shall I scan??
Thursday, April 12, 2012
My Resurrection Story - Part 1
I have not posted for a while, at least in part because this has been roiling around inside of me wanting to get out.
2 Timothy 1:7 - " For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and a sound mind." (NKJV) Some translations say self-discipline instead of a sound mind.
At my Our Lady of Guadalupe Circle meeting last night this verse was mentioned during our petitions. We couldn't bring it properly to mind and yet, this is among my favorite scriptures. I kept a scripture journal at one point and I know this one is in it. I can't put my hands on that journal right now and I regret that. The scriptures within it are all of them helpful and uplifting to my spirit, my heart, my mindset. Encouragement is a good thing.
Several years ago I signed up for Christ Renews His Parish (CRHP) at our Church, Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church. This program had been around for a number of years and I had thought of attending but simply never had. I was walking past the sign up table and mentioned to Ruben "I've been thinking about signing up for that." As I walked on past...
Clear as a bell I distinctly heard God say to me "Why not now?" I had no answer to that. No argument whatsoever. And so I turned around, went to the table and put my name down to attend.
The morning of the retreat I went out to my car to leave and my battery was dead. This was my '93 Honda Civic - as reliable and dependable a car as ever was. I went back in to the house and related that I couldn't go - my car was dead. Ruben, who was really neither for nor against my attending, immediately says "Oh, I can take you and I'll pick you up when it's over." I know, I know, that is what any husband should say and do, yet it was unexpected - as was the interference that was trying to keep me from attending.
I arrived at our Neumann Center (the Cadillac of CRHPs in Tallahassee is at our church because of this retreat center on our parish grounds where many functions are held) and we were asked to surrender our watches and electronics as we were on God's time now. I confess to you I had been filled with trepidation and worry. I even said to one of my fellow attendees - who I discovered was of exactly the same mind - that if this is some "this is what you do, this is how you believe, this is the narrow rule book for everything you think" sort of thing I am SOO out of there, even if I had to walk the 8 or so miles home!
This is entirely NOT what CRHP is, by the way. The weekend was so wonderful! I was absolutely in love with the women there within a few short hours - even not knowing them, there was just total love alive and flowing through and around and to and in each of us. Oh God was there.
There is a follow-up to the weekend called 'formation' that prepares you as an attendee to become the team who presents the next weekend retreat to the next group of attendees. Formation is about 6 months long - you see, the retreat is offered twice a year for women and twice a year for men. Obviously the men give to the men and the women to the women. I could not stand to NOT be at a Monday night formation meeting. We were designated Team 23 and we very quickly became a team in reality. I know I speak for all of my TEAM sisters in saying that receiving the weekend was awesome, amazing and wonderful; and that giving the weekend was even better!!
Ruben was really not interested in going to a men's CRHP - AT ALL!!!! He had been 'targeted' to attend and that just rubbed him the wrong way. When he picked me up after the retreat I told him simply "If you ever consider going to one of these, I can tell you that I highly recommend it." About six months later, the husband of one of my team 23 sisters invited Ruben to the weekend that his team was presenting. Ruben mentioned this to me and I told him "well, perhaps Jorge would like to share his story with you." and then I shut up. The men's retreat was going to be held on the weekend that we were having a welcome home celebration for my son Troy who had redeployed from OIF 1. He had been deployed to Iraq during the invasion. This was an important family event to be held at the home of my ex and my "new wife" and if God wanted Ruben at CRHP then I needed to stay out of it.
He attended the weekend and was sold himself. I became co-spiritual director for CRHP for teams 25, 26, 27, and 28. This was an extremely fulfilling 2 year stint and while I think I could have done it longer, I know I could NOT have done it longer and done it well. It is spiritually filling and yet emotionally draining and I do believe that God wants us each to give our best - I would not have been able to do so any longer than I did. When I was done, Ruben came to me and asked if I had any problems with him becoming more involved in the men's CRHP as co-spiritual director. No, that seems like a good idea. Mind you this was the man who had been adamantly opposed to even ever attending the retreat EVER - for many years.
I tell you this as background to my Resurrection story. I know - it's long. Oh, well. It is important to the rest of the story.
I believe that CRHP is now on team 42 forming up to present to team 43. That tells you it has been almost 10 years since we started this.
2 Timothy 1:7 - " For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and a sound mind." (NKJV) Some translations say self-discipline instead of a sound mind.
At my Our Lady of Guadalupe Circle meeting last night this verse was mentioned during our petitions. We couldn't bring it properly to mind and yet, this is among my favorite scriptures. I kept a scripture journal at one point and I know this one is in it. I can't put my hands on that journal right now and I regret that. The scriptures within it are all of them helpful and uplifting to my spirit, my heart, my mindset. Encouragement is a good thing.
Several years ago I signed up for Christ Renews His Parish (CRHP) at our Church, Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church. This program had been around for a number of years and I had thought of attending but simply never had. I was walking past the sign up table and mentioned to Ruben "I've been thinking about signing up for that." As I walked on past...
Clear as a bell I distinctly heard God say to me "Why not now?" I had no answer to that. No argument whatsoever. And so I turned around, went to the table and put my name down to attend.
The morning of the retreat I went out to my car to leave and my battery was dead. This was my '93 Honda Civic - as reliable and dependable a car as ever was. I went back in to the house and related that I couldn't go - my car was dead. Ruben, who was really neither for nor against my attending, immediately says "Oh, I can take you and I'll pick you up when it's over." I know, I know, that is what any husband should say and do, yet it was unexpected - as was the interference that was trying to keep me from attending.
I arrived at our Neumann Center (the Cadillac of CRHPs in Tallahassee is at our church because of this retreat center on our parish grounds where many functions are held) and we were asked to surrender our watches and electronics as we were on God's time now. I confess to you I had been filled with trepidation and worry. I even said to one of my fellow attendees - who I discovered was of exactly the same mind - that if this is some "this is what you do, this is how you believe, this is the narrow rule book for everything you think" sort of thing I am SOO out of there, even if I had to walk the 8 or so miles home!
This is entirely NOT what CRHP is, by the way. The weekend was so wonderful! I was absolutely in love with the women there within a few short hours - even not knowing them, there was just total love alive and flowing through and around and to and in each of us. Oh God was there.
There is a follow-up to the weekend called 'formation' that prepares you as an attendee to become the team who presents the next weekend retreat to the next group of attendees. Formation is about 6 months long - you see, the retreat is offered twice a year for women and twice a year for men. Obviously the men give to the men and the women to the women. I could not stand to NOT be at a Monday night formation meeting. We were designated Team 23 and we very quickly became a team in reality. I know I speak for all of my TEAM sisters in saying that receiving the weekend was awesome, amazing and wonderful; and that giving the weekend was even better!!
Ruben was really not interested in going to a men's CRHP - AT ALL!!!! He had been 'targeted' to attend and that just rubbed him the wrong way. When he picked me up after the retreat I told him simply "If you ever consider going to one of these, I can tell you that I highly recommend it." About six months later, the husband of one of my team 23 sisters invited Ruben to the weekend that his team was presenting. Ruben mentioned this to me and I told him "well, perhaps Jorge would like to share his story with you." and then I shut up. The men's retreat was going to be held on the weekend that we were having a welcome home celebration for my son Troy who had redeployed from OIF 1. He had been deployed to Iraq during the invasion. This was an important family event to be held at the home of my ex and my "new wife" and if God wanted Ruben at CRHP then I needed to stay out of it.
He attended the weekend and was sold himself. I became co-spiritual director for CRHP for teams 25, 26, 27, and 28. This was an extremely fulfilling 2 year stint and while I think I could have done it longer, I know I could NOT have done it longer and done it well. It is spiritually filling and yet emotionally draining and I do believe that God wants us each to give our best - I would not have been able to do so any longer than I did. When I was done, Ruben came to me and asked if I had any problems with him becoming more involved in the men's CRHP as co-spiritual director. No, that seems like a good idea. Mind you this was the man who had been adamantly opposed to even ever attending the retreat EVER - for many years.
I tell you this as background to my Resurrection story. I know - it's long. Oh, well. It is important to the rest of the story.
I believe that CRHP is now on team 42 forming up to present to team 43. That tells you it has been almost 10 years since we started this.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Feeling Froggy
Sunday, March 4th began an interesting event.
I had gone to church, as is my usual Sunday habit, and my son wanted to get together for a bit prior to going out of town.
We went to Costco and were going to just get a hot dog and a drink but the concession stand line was massive. We decided to do a little shopping first then get a bite to eat. As we wandered the store and chatted we decided to go somewhere else to eat lunch (his treat!! Wowzer!) and I related that I was absolutely freezing. Also - I did not feel real well.
Now, mind you, I have a whole new perspective on not feeling well compared to feeling well. I have plumbed the depths through chemo and now pretty much the very worst I ever feel is classified simply as "not feeling real well." Everything is relative, you know.
We eventually found our way out of the store, went to get a bite, and proceeded on our separate ways once I dropped him off. By the time I got home I was really feeling quite fatigued and quite not well so I decided to rest a bit.
I lay down and thought "you know, Mel, you really should take some Tylenol" 'Why, yes, that is a good idea.' Thirty minutes later - thirty minutes of KNOWING I really did need to take some Tylenol I got up and walked the 10 steps to the bathroom vanity and took 2 tablets.
THEN I lay back down and slept for 2 hours. Generally if I take a nap, I'm good for maybe 20 minutes tops.
So it is now 5:30 and I get up and await the return from the death house of the spousal unit.
We eat a little something, chat and watch TV and I am fighting hard to stay awake at 8 o'clock in the evening!!
The next day I decide that it really might be a good idea to confer with my physician on this as it really is NOT normal to feel tired, hot, swollen, have chills, etc. - generally what some people might call miserable but which I simply call not feeling well.
The doctor's office gets back to me later in the day with a "let's get you in to see the doctor - is tomorrow about x time good for you?" Yup - sounds good to me.
My sweet spousal unit has been asked if he could work on Tuesday but we determine - you know, with my having intermittent fevers and chills it might be a good idea to have him take me to the appointment, which is exactly what we do.
At the Doctor's he comes back with me to the exam room. When Doctor H comes in we relate to him that "Dr. Ruben" has already diagnosed my situation as Lyme Disease. Or typhoid.
You may as well have fun and laugh in almost any situation.
I realize and relate that my left mastectomy site (you know from over a year ago!), my non-cancerous only one sentinel node removed mastectomy site is feeling hot and painful and swollen. I figure I am just really tired and imagining things at the same time thinking "WHAT??!! Am I turning amphibian and regenerating growth here??"
Upon examination Dr H diagnoses cellulitis. What??? It's an infection of your skin - inside your skin. This is not contagious but it could be really bad. Really, really bad!!
He has to check to make sure there are not pockets within the inflamed area of pus. EEEWWW!!! Had there been, they would have had to be drained. EEEEEWWWWW!!!
Apparently, any one at any given time and on any given body part (covered by skin) can get cellulitis just because. Oh - good then..
So I get an injection of anti-biotic to jump start the process of healing and a prescription of anti-biotic to take for 10 days to eliminate the problem.
Within just a day or so I am feeling very much better - just in time to go in for an infusion of Herceptin!!
So in further good news I will relate that even though last week looked like a week from much earlier in the process with an appointment at the doctor followed by an appointment for chemo then a few days later an appointment with my surgeon - I am feeling absolutely fabulous again, I only have one or two Herceptin infusions left, I have a preliminary appointment with a "plastic" or reconstructive surgeon set up and life is good
Because never forget for a second, friends - life IS good.
I had gone to church, as is my usual Sunday habit, and my son wanted to get together for a bit prior to going out of town.
We went to Costco and were going to just get a hot dog and a drink but the concession stand line was massive. We decided to do a little shopping first then get a bite to eat. As we wandered the store and chatted we decided to go somewhere else to eat lunch (his treat!! Wowzer!) and I related that I was absolutely freezing. Also - I did not feel real well.
Now, mind you, I have a whole new perspective on not feeling well compared to feeling well. I have plumbed the depths through chemo and now pretty much the very worst I ever feel is classified simply as "not feeling real well." Everything is relative, you know.
We eventually found our way out of the store, went to get a bite, and proceeded on our separate ways once I dropped him off. By the time I got home I was really feeling quite fatigued and quite not well so I decided to rest a bit.
I lay down and thought "you know, Mel, you really should take some Tylenol" 'Why, yes, that is a good idea.' Thirty minutes later - thirty minutes of KNOWING I really did need to take some Tylenol I got up and walked the 10 steps to the bathroom vanity and took 2 tablets.
THEN I lay back down and slept for 2 hours. Generally if I take a nap, I'm good for maybe 20 minutes tops.
So it is now 5:30 and I get up and await the return from the death house of the spousal unit.
We eat a little something, chat and watch TV and I am fighting hard to stay awake at 8 o'clock in the evening!!
The next day I decide that it really might be a good idea to confer with my physician on this as it really is NOT normal to feel tired, hot, swollen, have chills, etc. - generally what some people might call miserable but which I simply call not feeling well.
The doctor's office gets back to me later in the day with a "let's get you in to see the doctor - is tomorrow about x time good for you?" Yup - sounds good to me.
My sweet spousal unit has been asked if he could work on Tuesday but we determine - you know, with my having intermittent fevers and chills it might be a good idea to have him take me to the appointment, which is exactly what we do.
At the Doctor's he comes back with me to the exam room. When Doctor H comes in we relate to him that "Dr. Ruben" has already diagnosed my situation as Lyme Disease. Or typhoid.
You may as well have fun and laugh in almost any situation.
I realize and relate that my left mastectomy site (you know from over a year ago!), my non-cancerous only one sentinel node removed mastectomy site is feeling hot and painful and swollen. I figure I am just really tired and imagining things at the same time thinking "WHAT??!! Am I turning amphibian and regenerating growth here??"
Upon examination Dr H diagnoses cellulitis. What??? It's an infection of your skin - inside your skin. This is not contagious but it could be really bad. Really, really bad!!
He has to check to make sure there are not pockets within the inflamed area of pus. EEEWWW!!! Had there been, they would have had to be drained. EEEEEWWWWW!!!
Apparently, any one at any given time and on any given body part (covered by skin) can get cellulitis just because. Oh - good then..
So I get an injection of anti-biotic to jump start the process of healing and a prescription of anti-biotic to take for 10 days to eliminate the problem.
Within just a day or so I am feeling very much better - just in time to go in for an infusion of Herceptin!!
So in further good news I will relate that even though last week looked like a week from much earlier in the process with an appointment at the doctor followed by an appointment for chemo then a few days later an appointment with my surgeon - I am feeling absolutely fabulous again, I only have one or two Herceptin infusions left, I have a preliminary appointment with a "plastic" or reconstructive surgeon set up and life is good
Because never forget for a second, friends - life IS good.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Hoovering like a madwoman...
So my house has NOT had a good vacuuming since my sweet baby sister visited me last MAY and vacuumed the house for me. She says she hates to vacuum and I did not ask her - it was a gift of love she gave me.
I have been hating this mess! My indoor cat, Tiberius, is a fur making machine. Truly, I cannot figure out why he is not bald.
I have a Dirt Devil canister vac, small but effective. I have used it throughout this year but I just really cannot use it on the carpets. It causes discomfort and so I have let go of clean carpets unless the husband vacuums them.
Having reached full out sick and tired and D-O-N-E with it, I checked out the Consumer Reports buying guide and settled on a Hoover bagless upright as what I most likely needed in order to regain clean floors. I ordered model UH70120, Consumer Reports' highest rated and recommended model in bagless uprights and it came on Monday.
OH MY GOSH!!!!
I put it together forthwith and vacuumed the foyer and living room. I emptied the bin three - count them 3 - times!! I have been cleaning an area every day and invariably emptying the bin at least twice each day. Yes, I have been Hoovering like a madwoman.
I am loving this whole feeling of clean carpets!!
I am loving this sense of accomplishment in being able to do it myself!
It has become apparent that I need to follow the Spark Lady methodology and only clean one room a day and limit myself to 15 minutes so I can not feel overwhelmed, actually make progress, AND end up with a clean house.
Please, it is not like this house has hundreds of rooms for heaven's sake!! Enough rooms, yes, and I am sure I will always have plenty to clean. We DO live here, after all.
A simple enough pleasure, to be sure.
On the health side - I am feeling great!! I only have two more Herceptin infusions and that should be all she wrote for active care!
I love Dr. Rassam and his staff, don't get me wrong. They have been supportive, kind, compassionate, encouraging and helpful. I will, regardless, be elated to have this stage of my life behind me!!
I know I will have to continue to be vigilant about my health, which absolutely I will be! I know I still have additional tests to go through to be sure all is well and such as that - it will, however, no longer be an every week, every three weeks thing! I will be liberated from this particular schedule and now I have to consider that I will be back fully in charge.
Hallelujah!!
perhaps it's time to "Hoover" some more...
I have been hating this mess! My indoor cat, Tiberius, is a fur making machine. Truly, I cannot figure out why he is not bald.
I have a Dirt Devil canister vac, small but effective. I have used it throughout this year but I just really cannot use it on the carpets. It causes discomfort and so I have let go of clean carpets unless the husband vacuums them.
Having reached full out sick and tired and D-O-N-E with it, I checked out the Consumer Reports buying guide and settled on a Hoover bagless upright as what I most likely needed in order to regain clean floors. I ordered model UH70120, Consumer Reports' highest rated and recommended model in bagless uprights and it came on Monday.
OH MY GOSH!!!!
I put it together forthwith and vacuumed the foyer and living room. I emptied the bin three - count them 3 - times!! I have been cleaning an area every day and invariably emptying the bin at least twice each day. Yes, I have been Hoovering like a madwoman.
I am loving this whole feeling of clean carpets!!
I am loving this sense of accomplishment in being able to do it myself!
It has become apparent that I need to follow the Spark Lady methodology and only clean one room a day and limit myself to 15 minutes so I can not feel overwhelmed, actually make progress, AND end up with a clean house.
Please, it is not like this house has hundreds of rooms for heaven's sake!! Enough rooms, yes, and I am sure I will always have plenty to clean. We DO live here, after all.
A simple enough pleasure, to be sure.
On the health side - I am feeling great!! I only have two more Herceptin infusions and that should be all she wrote for active care!
I love Dr. Rassam and his staff, don't get me wrong. They have been supportive, kind, compassionate, encouraging and helpful. I will, regardless, be elated to have this stage of my life behind me!!
I know I will have to continue to be vigilant about my health, which absolutely I will be! I know I still have additional tests to go through to be sure all is well and such as that - it will, however, no longer be an every week, every three weeks thing! I will be liberated from this particular schedule and now I have to consider that I will be back fully in charge.
Hallelujah!!
perhaps it's time to "Hoover" some more...
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Happy Surger-versary to me....
Today is the first anniversary of my bi-lateral mastectomy surgery.
I hope that doesn't sound depressing, because I am feeling no sorrow over it. I admit freely that I still have this weird concoction of feelings when I ponder the reality of my body as it is now compared to what it was then. I think I may have that for the rest of my life!
Still - it is not something to moan and weep and lament.
I am on the right side of the grass -- the side looking down! I have only two more Herceptin infusions (YAY!!!) and then I proceed fully into post-treatment treatment.
What else are you gonna call it? It is treatment, it is post active treatment!
I am happy to be alive. I am happy to feel good! I am delighted to have a whole new perspective on feeling good. I won't have to go through what I have been through in order to so entirely value that feeling so-so, feeling mediocre at best, feeling bad even, is absolutely GREAT!!
I can taste food again (oh that is fabulous, really it is!), I can drive around when I want to or need to, I can do most anything I want.
I have realized the amazing and precious gift of having a spirit of joy. I am blessed with friends and family who love me, who pray for me, who worry about me, who make me laugh. Okay - granted that last one is not that hard to do. My sister tells me I am an easy audience. She just entirely cracks me up!
I am going to be a grandma! My younger son married his sweet Elisa and now I have a daughter AND they are expecting the arrival of my precious first grand at the end of September.
Now he is trying to insist that I will be called nonna, which is Italian for grandmother. So wrong. That is not what is going to be my grandmother moniker. The little one will have a nonna and a nonno in the sweet Elisa's parents. I, therefore, am choosing to be called me-me, or if you prefer Mimi.
Oh, it is somewhat naughty of me to insist on it. You see, I have a sister-in-law who doesn't like me. Go figure! Everybody likes me, I like everybody, you see. She doesn't know me at all, and yet insisted at a family dust-up that I was "totally selfish. All you care about is me me me." I must contend - and it is pretty much universally agreed upon that this is a case of projection on her part. It is why - in part - I called this blog "and now it IS all about me.." and it is, again in part, why I WILL be called Mimi.
It is both a laughing off of her accusation, her erroneous and mean-spirited accusation, and a reminder to me that people will have their little issues. Well, in the Southern sense of the term "bless her heart."
Those among us who understand Southern know EXACTLY what that means. And if you don't speak Southern, just laugh - because it is funny.
So the other evening after I had told Linda that I would be called Mimi, she giggled at that and said she would be called "Aunt La-la" - which made both of us laugh.
Signing off from our phone conversation she later said "good night Mimi" in a deep and affected southern accent. I laughed at both the comment and the accent, as did she. Then she prompted me "say 'goodnight Lala'", which - naturally, I did and we both laughed.
Life is good. Life is humorous. Hang in there through the hard times, the sad times, the lonely times; better days are ahead.
If you are blessed, not lucky - blessed, you will find that God does have a sense of humor and gave you one too. Find it!! Put on rose colored glasses. Yes, there is darkness and evil in the world. But you must not stare at them, they will sweep you under the floorboards themselves into despair.
Look for the light that is there. Joy will come in the morning, just last through the night.
Weep when you must (put a time limit on it!) and laugh as soon as you can. I will dance through this world and I will laugh.
I hope that doesn't sound depressing, because I am feeling no sorrow over it. I admit freely that I still have this weird concoction of feelings when I ponder the reality of my body as it is now compared to what it was then. I think I may have that for the rest of my life!
Still - it is not something to moan and weep and lament.
I am on the right side of the grass -- the side looking down! I have only two more Herceptin infusions (YAY!!!) and then I proceed fully into post-treatment treatment.
What else are you gonna call it? It is treatment, it is post active treatment!
I am happy to be alive. I am happy to feel good! I am delighted to have a whole new perspective on feeling good. I won't have to go through what I have been through in order to so entirely value that feeling so-so, feeling mediocre at best, feeling bad even, is absolutely GREAT!!
I can taste food again (oh that is fabulous, really it is!), I can drive around when I want to or need to, I can do most anything I want.
I have realized the amazing and precious gift of having a spirit of joy. I am blessed with friends and family who love me, who pray for me, who worry about me, who make me laugh. Okay - granted that last one is not that hard to do. My sister tells me I am an easy audience. She just entirely cracks me up!
I am going to be a grandma! My younger son married his sweet Elisa and now I have a daughter AND they are expecting the arrival of my precious first grand at the end of September.
Now he is trying to insist that I will be called nonna, which is Italian for grandmother. So wrong. That is not what is going to be my grandmother moniker. The little one will have a nonna and a nonno in the sweet Elisa's parents. I, therefore, am choosing to be called me-me, or if you prefer Mimi.
Oh, it is somewhat naughty of me to insist on it. You see, I have a sister-in-law who doesn't like me. Go figure! Everybody likes me, I like everybody, you see. She doesn't know me at all, and yet insisted at a family dust-up that I was "totally selfish. All you care about is me me me." I must contend - and it is pretty much universally agreed upon that this is a case of projection on her part. It is why - in part - I called this blog "and now it IS all about me.." and it is, again in part, why I WILL be called Mimi.
It is both a laughing off of her accusation, her erroneous and mean-spirited accusation, and a reminder to me that people will have their little issues. Well, in the Southern sense of the term "bless her heart."
Those among us who understand Southern know EXACTLY what that means. And if you don't speak Southern, just laugh - because it is funny.
So the other evening after I had told Linda that I would be called Mimi, she giggled at that and said she would be called "Aunt La-la" - which made both of us laugh.
Signing off from our phone conversation she later said "good night Mimi" in a deep and affected southern accent. I laughed at both the comment and the accent, as did she. Then she prompted me "say 'goodnight Lala'", which - naturally, I did and we both laughed.
Life is good. Life is humorous. Hang in there through the hard times, the sad times, the lonely times; better days are ahead.
If you are blessed, not lucky - blessed, you will find that God does have a sense of humor and gave you one too. Find it!! Put on rose colored glasses. Yes, there is darkness and evil in the world. But you must not stare at them, they will sweep you under the floorboards themselves into despair.
Look for the light that is there. Joy will come in the morning, just last through the night.
Weep when you must (put a time limit on it!) and laugh as soon as you can. I will dance through this world and I will laugh.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Fold Them Like a Taco
I decided it was time to do something about the gordian knot of my physical aspect.
As you may or may not know, a gordian knot is impossible to unravel. The definition is "an exceedingly complicated problem or deadlock" AND it is a metaphor for an exceedingly difficult problem solved by a bold stroke (cutting the gordian knot).
I have yet to determine what is the bold stroke required to fix the issues that are connected to, well, the issues of breast cancer, bi-lateral mastectomy, chemo, radiation, reconstruction, self-image. Oh, I could go on -- and ON. Thus, you see, why it is a gordian knot.
Nonetheless, I decided one thing I could do was see the "Image Recovery Specialist" at the TMH Cancer Center.
Wrap your head around that for a minute - "Image Recovery Specialist"..... As if one could just pick it up and regain your self image. Well, it certainly sounds good in theory!
Don't get me wrong - there is a part of me that feels like I am absolutely fabulous!! I put a good face on it all and present to others as if I 100% feel positive. Sometimes I actually feel that way, too -- positive, feminine, beautiful. Okay that whole feminine thing - that girly part of me - that actually is a major part of who I am. I just AM a girly kind of girl. But I look in the mirror and I see the shocking (still) change to my body and it can hit pretty hard. It sucker punches you and every single day you know - I have to fight this, I have to look beyond the initial physical appearance and remember that I own beauty.
It is, you see, NOT pretty. Oh, I no longer feel that I am a technicolor 3-D topographical map of a nightmare train scene from a horror movie. But I DID feel that way.
I still do not feel beauty in my self, in my body, in my spirit. Because this is not how a woman is supposed to look.
I fully grasp that this is a transitional body. I know - I can see the difference in the body I had on February 17th, 2011 (one day post surgery) and the body I have today. However, I also clearly see the difference in the body I have today and the body I had on February 15th, 2011.
So - I went for prosthetics. THAT is what the Image Recovery Specialist does. I must say that is a far better title than, say, Artificial Temporary Body Part Specialist. Yeah?
Now, I will tell you that I had to present my case, my argument as to why I wanted to be a "B cup" - which I think is actually just about the perfect size to be!
Argument 1 - I am on Weight Watchers and determined to get down to the size I deem healthy, comfortable and sustainable. As I lose weight, the prosthetics will not. Therefore within a few months, these imitation girls will be too big.
Argument 2 - I have been big, endowed, stacked, whatever you want to call it. My goodness, those girls were everywhere!!!
With a B cup you can actually button a blouse without having to resort to safety pinning everything together. You can actually go shopping and find things that fit and not have to worry about clothing staying in place. You don't have to consider "wait a minute - doesn't this fit like it has neon flashing arrows pointing out how big my boobs are?" which you DO have to consider when you are larger. You don't have to size up - and up - even though you should be able to wear a smaller size - in order to accommodate "the girls". You actually get to find pretty undergarments that come in plenty of colors and patterns and styles instead of having to make do and STRUGGLE to find something that does NOT make you feel like someone's unattractive grandmother.
So - I have prosthetics and prosthetic bras so I can wear them pretty much whenever I want to.
Of course, after going for 10 months without them I have found that it's really pretty convenient and comfortable to not have those things in my way!
And of course - did I mention how nice it is to no longer feel - after 41 years of feeling this way -- like I should say to every man I meet "Hey - I'm about a foot higher and they ain't gonna talk to you!"?
Because that does feel nice. I still sometimes feel like men are looking at my chest - but now I kind of smirk internally and think "I am about a foot higher you dork and they are SURE not gonna talk to you now - since they are NOT THERE!"
When Karen - the specialist - was instructing me how to put the prosthetics in place and fitting me for a bra, etc., she showed me how to insert the device in question into the bras. I have one for each side, obviously, and they each store conveniently in their own box. They are kind of teardrop shaped, somewhat heavy, and they feel very much like they should feel. So she tells me "You pick it up and just fold it like a taco to insert it into the bra. Then once it's in, its own weight will straighten it out."
I thought that was pretty funny and it actually is an excellent way to describe what you need to do.
I have only worn them a few times. There are days when I feel like I want to present that feminine aspect to the world in a physical, actual way and on those days I take them out of their boxes and slip them into their bra and wear them. And then I get home and am SO happy to take them off!! My goodness - these things feel like they weigh a ton!!! Here is the thing - I selected lighter weight ones than originally tendered and I know for a fact these weigh considerably less than what I had 24-7 before the surgery!!
I keep working on this and I know additionally that I have to discover a new style of dressing than I had before because this body is different than the one I used to dress. I will get there from here - I just have to want to take the steps necessary and I don't always want to.
ON a humorous note - Right after my surgery - say a week or two, when I was able to get out for short trips, several people who saw me commented "Wow! You've lost a lot of weight." Completely oblivious that all I had lost was boobs!! So - great, you think boobs make a woman fat?!! Yeah, people kind of DO think that. Even though the cultural presentation is that a woman should have big boobs. Great - another conundrum which you (the culture at large) dump on women.
Well, for now - I think I will continue to mostly leave those little permanently perky things happily in their boxes. When I feel like it I will utilize them.
Tacos anyone?
As you may or may not know, a gordian knot is impossible to unravel. The definition is "an exceedingly complicated problem or deadlock" AND it is a metaphor for an exceedingly difficult problem solved by a bold stroke (cutting the gordian knot).
I have yet to determine what is the bold stroke required to fix the issues that are connected to, well, the issues of breast cancer, bi-lateral mastectomy, chemo, radiation, reconstruction, self-image. Oh, I could go on -- and ON. Thus, you see, why it is a gordian knot.
Nonetheless, I decided one thing I could do was see the "Image Recovery Specialist" at the TMH Cancer Center.
Wrap your head around that for a minute - "Image Recovery Specialist"..... As if one could just pick it up and regain your self image. Well, it certainly sounds good in theory!
Don't get me wrong - there is a part of me that feels like I am absolutely fabulous!! I put a good face on it all and present to others as if I 100% feel positive. Sometimes I actually feel that way, too -- positive, feminine, beautiful. Okay that whole feminine thing - that girly part of me - that actually is a major part of who I am. I just AM a girly kind of girl. But I look in the mirror and I see the shocking (still) change to my body and it can hit pretty hard. It sucker punches you and every single day you know - I have to fight this, I have to look beyond the initial physical appearance and remember that I own beauty.
It is, you see, NOT pretty. Oh, I no longer feel that I am a technicolor 3-D topographical map of a nightmare train scene from a horror movie. But I DID feel that way.
I still do not feel beauty in my self, in my body, in my spirit. Because this is not how a woman is supposed to look.
I fully grasp that this is a transitional body. I know - I can see the difference in the body I had on February 17th, 2011 (one day post surgery) and the body I have today. However, I also clearly see the difference in the body I have today and the body I had on February 15th, 2011.
So - I went for prosthetics. THAT is what the Image Recovery Specialist does. I must say that is a far better title than, say, Artificial Temporary Body Part Specialist. Yeah?
Now, I will tell you that I had to present my case, my argument as to why I wanted to be a "B cup" - which I think is actually just about the perfect size to be!
Argument 1 - I am on Weight Watchers and determined to get down to the size I deem healthy, comfortable and sustainable. As I lose weight, the prosthetics will not. Therefore within a few months, these imitation girls will be too big.
Argument 2 - I have been big, endowed, stacked, whatever you want to call it. My goodness, those girls were everywhere!!!
With a B cup you can actually button a blouse without having to resort to safety pinning everything together. You can actually go shopping and find things that fit and not have to worry about clothing staying in place. You don't have to consider "wait a minute - doesn't this fit like it has neon flashing arrows pointing out how big my boobs are?" which you DO have to consider when you are larger. You don't have to size up - and up - even though you should be able to wear a smaller size - in order to accommodate "the girls". You actually get to find pretty undergarments that come in plenty of colors and patterns and styles instead of having to make do and STRUGGLE to find something that does NOT make you feel like someone's unattractive grandmother.
So - I have prosthetics and prosthetic bras so I can wear them pretty much whenever I want to.
Of course, after going for 10 months without them I have found that it's really pretty convenient and comfortable to not have those things in my way!
And of course - did I mention how nice it is to no longer feel - after 41 years of feeling this way -- like I should say to every man I meet "Hey - I'm about a foot higher and they ain't gonna talk to you!"?
Because that does feel nice. I still sometimes feel like men are looking at my chest - but now I kind of smirk internally and think "I am about a foot higher you dork and they are SURE not gonna talk to you now - since they are NOT THERE!"
When Karen - the specialist - was instructing me how to put the prosthetics in place and fitting me for a bra, etc., she showed me how to insert the device in question into the bras. I have one for each side, obviously, and they each store conveniently in their own box. They are kind of teardrop shaped, somewhat heavy, and they feel very much like they should feel. So she tells me "You pick it up and just fold it like a taco to insert it into the bra. Then once it's in, its own weight will straighten it out."
I thought that was pretty funny and it actually is an excellent way to describe what you need to do.
I have only worn them a few times. There are days when I feel like I want to present that feminine aspect to the world in a physical, actual way and on those days I take them out of their boxes and slip them into their bra and wear them. And then I get home and am SO happy to take them off!! My goodness - these things feel like they weigh a ton!!! Here is the thing - I selected lighter weight ones than originally tendered and I know for a fact these weigh considerably less than what I had 24-7 before the surgery!!
I keep working on this and I know additionally that I have to discover a new style of dressing than I had before because this body is different than the one I used to dress. I will get there from here - I just have to want to take the steps necessary and I don't always want to.
ON a humorous note - Right after my surgery - say a week or two, when I was able to get out for short trips, several people who saw me commented "Wow! You've lost a lot of weight." Completely oblivious that all I had lost was boobs!! So - great, you think boobs make a woman fat?!! Yeah, people kind of DO think that. Even though the cultural presentation is that a woman should have big boobs. Great - another conundrum which you (the culture at large) dump on women.
Well, for now - I think I will continue to mostly leave those little permanently perky things happily in their boxes. When I feel like it I will utilize them.
Tacos anyone?
Monday, January 16, 2012
1st Cancer-versary
January 18th, 2010 I went for the mammogram. I had found the lump that just could be questionable, and which my GP thought presented NOT abnormally - but let's just get a mammo to be safe - on my right breast.
The technician came back in to get some additional shots on my left as something a little mysterious presented there.
What?? The left? Okay, okay a few more times of having every bit of elasticity squeezed out of my body -- fine, fine, fine.
Then "we're going to go ahead and do a sonogram now." Hmm. Okay.
Now a sonogram is actually pretty cool. And did I mention it's painless?
Its other advantage is the complete beautiful clarity in what you see. I could see with great clarity that the lump in my breast was larger than I had thought and so very asymmetrical in shape.
Uh-oh. That's not good.
And so began the reality that one does NOT want to have.
Now, almost a year later (yes, I know it is not quite 1 year) and I have traveled well down a road I would not have chosen to take. I would not choose this road for anyone.
I am now attending "Transitions" a program at TMH Cancer Center as I am that far down the road to recovery.
I must say that we were pushed towards considering ourselves "cancer thrivers" at last week's meeting. I have been thinking about that and I have come to the definite conclusion I will NOT consider myself a "cancer thriver."
Cancer does NOT define me. Names like cancer patient, cancer survivor, cancer thriver - they each connect the individual to cancer inextricably.
That is NOT how it is for me and nor should it be for any one who has fought cancer. Does the possibility exist that I could have a recurrence of cancer? Yes, unfortunately, that could happen. Should that event occur I will deal with it. I'll deal with it then.
So what am I? While cancer does not define me it did provide a (very unpleasant) defining moment in my life.
And on that ugly road I have traveled I have also found many blessings. I am thankful to cancer. I am thankful for cancer.
There is within me a fragility that I keep hidden. I hide it from my loved ones as well as those not within my inner circle. It is a fragility that is hidden by strength and partially caused by strength and so I must cherish it and nurture it and allow it to strengthen me further.
I am called by some of my supporters "a rock" - and I am.
Like a diamond - a stone so hard it can destroy, it can cut other substances, it can survive, it can be formed and enhanced, it can form and enhance others, it reflects and plays with the light, and it can be shattered.
This diamond, however; this diamond ME, I will wield wisely. I will enhance it with miraculous recovery abilities - which comes from God, and which we have power to enhance only through Him.
So Cancer Patient? I was and technically still am as I am not through with treatment yet. But no - that is pretty passive and I have NOT been passive on this journey.
Cancer survivor? Well, I am surviving cancer and that is my life intention but - no; I survive this incident, I am NOT this incident.
Cancer thriver? Actually I hate that term. It implies to me that I am thriving with cancer, embracing it, seeking it as a friend. Well, I am NOT thriving with cancer! I am kicking cancer to the curb and not welcoming it into my presence again!!
Even though there are ways in which I am not doing as well as some people think I am - I am simultaneously doing even better than most people think I am doing.
I am a warrior, a victor, a princess of this realm.
Cancer is not welcome here.
Call me a warrior princess.
The technician came back in to get some additional shots on my left as something a little mysterious presented there.
What?? The left? Okay, okay a few more times of having every bit of elasticity squeezed out of my body -- fine, fine, fine.
Then "we're going to go ahead and do a sonogram now." Hmm. Okay.
Now a sonogram is actually pretty cool. And did I mention it's painless?
Its other advantage is the complete beautiful clarity in what you see. I could see with great clarity that the lump in my breast was larger than I had thought and so very asymmetrical in shape.
Uh-oh. That's not good.
And so began the reality that one does NOT want to have.
Now, almost a year later (yes, I know it is not quite 1 year) and I have traveled well down a road I would not have chosen to take. I would not choose this road for anyone.
I am now attending "Transitions" a program at TMH Cancer Center as I am that far down the road to recovery.
I must say that we were pushed towards considering ourselves "cancer thrivers" at last week's meeting. I have been thinking about that and I have come to the definite conclusion I will NOT consider myself a "cancer thriver."
Cancer does NOT define me. Names like cancer patient, cancer survivor, cancer thriver - they each connect the individual to cancer inextricably.
That is NOT how it is for me and nor should it be for any one who has fought cancer. Does the possibility exist that I could have a recurrence of cancer? Yes, unfortunately, that could happen. Should that event occur I will deal with it. I'll deal with it then.
So what am I? While cancer does not define me it did provide a (very unpleasant) defining moment in my life.
And on that ugly road I have traveled I have also found many blessings. I am thankful to cancer. I am thankful for cancer.
There is within me a fragility that I keep hidden. I hide it from my loved ones as well as those not within my inner circle. It is a fragility that is hidden by strength and partially caused by strength and so I must cherish it and nurture it and allow it to strengthen me further.
I am called by some of my supporters "a rock" - and I am.
Like a diamond - a stone so hard it can destroy, it can cut other substances, it can survive, it can be formed and enhanced, it can form and enhance others, it reflects and plays with the light, and it can be shattered.
This diamond, however; this diamond ME, I will wield wisely. I will enhance it with miraculous recovery abilities - which comes from God, and which we have power to enhance only through Him.
So Cancer Patient? I was and technically still am as I am not through with treatment yet. But no - that is pretty passive and I have NOT been passive on this journey.
Cancer survivor? Well, I am surviving cancer and that is my life intention but - no; I survive this incident, I am NOT this incident.
Cancer thriver? Actually I hate that term. It implies to me that I am thriving with cancer, embracing it, seeking it as a friend. Well, I am NOT thriving with cancer! I am kicking cancer to the curb and not welcoming it into my presence again!!
Even though there are ways in which I am not doing as well as some people think I am - I am simultaneously doing even better than most people think I am doing.
I am a warrior, a victor, a princess of this realm.
Cancer is not welcome here.
Call me a warrior princess.
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