Monday- October 8, 2012
I have a lot to blog about, but no energy right now.... I promise to update soon. Last night through today has been emotionally and physically EXHAUSTING! But I just want to post this blog to let everyone know my surgery date was officially confirmed today, after my three appointments at the Mayo Clinic.
Please send positive thoughts and keep me and my two surgeons in your prayers. Ten days from today- Thursday, October 18, 2012-- I will be having a double mastectomy with simultaneous reconstruction. My surgeons will be Dr. Gray (surgical oncologist) and Dr. Bash (plastic surgeon). I am told it will be a minimum of 4 hours in surgery, and at least one overnight stay at the hospital, possibly two. It's official and will happen....
Today, I think is the first day I felt sadness. I am suddenly fearful about the surgery, but I know it must be done and it is the best decision for me. I do NOT regret my decision. I trust my doctors. I'm just not sure about the outcome as there are still many unknowns and possibilities. It's a weird feeling that I did not think I would have. For the FIRST time, I have accepted and realize the possibility that I might die next week. Shit! That sucks! Just sayin... lol! I think I feel this way, because this is how I felt when I received my cancer diagnosis. Deep down I honestly believed my test results would come back negative, but it didn't. I have cancer. I never imagined I would. Now, I never imagined dying or complications, so the result of having cancer has shaken my core and cracked my foundation. Although I am hopeful, my faith is weak. I need prayer for this to change....
This is serious surgery. I am scared. Fear has always loomed within me, but this time I also feel sadness. I'm beginning to mourn the loss of life as I know it. I look forward to living my life without this dreaded disease we call breast cancer, but I mourn losing my life before cancer-- my body before surgery. Mentally, I have had time to try to deal with this new reality-- this physical change, however, will make it more real and in my face daily for the rest of my life. As weird as that may sound because I already have cancer-- being physically deformed, losing my two breasts in ten days brings forward new fears and an unfamiliar sadness for the future that lies ahead of me. Please pray for me....
“I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens.”
― Woody Allen
Monday, October 8, 2012
9/04/2012-Prequel: The day my life changed...
September 4, 2012- Tuesday
I woke up this morning anxious, because I knew I would get the results of my biopsy, and I would either have cancer or not. It was a big day. I don't know how I felt. I know I needed results-- three weeks of not knowing was more than I could handle. I want to say I was pretty certain the results would report that it was negative, and I was stressing for nothing. I thought I would feel like such a fool for allowing it to screw with my head all this time when I didn't even have cancer. Looking back, I really believed that my results would be negative, with the slight fear of the possibility of cancer. I thought I was ready for the relief and ready to tell the few people I had shared my experience with that it was a false alarm, and life could proceed as normal once again. Gosh! The not knowing and wondering and all the "ifs" that ran through my head was the ultimate worse part of this experience...so far.
I get to work, and it's the first day of the next month, because of the labor day holiday weekend. This means that all my billing time must be entered and released, so the firm can bill the clients and we can get paid. Without the added stress of wondering whether I have cancer, the end and beginning of every month is always stressful at work. I need to enter and release all my time by noon today. I have some work to get done this morning, and then I stop and try to enter all my billing time before noon. Earlier, the man I had just started dating texted me that he was sure I would get good news today. Everyone else texted me along those same lines. Deep down, I believed they were right even thought I still felt anxious about it. We were all ready for these damn results to come and confirm it for us. I wish it came after 12pm though, but of course not-- just my luck, the doctor calls at around right before 11:00am, in the midst of entering all my time...
I answer like a nervous wreck. The doctor reports to me that the pathologist report came back and they found some positive results for blah blah blah.... His voice was solemn, you could feel he was uncomfortable and also did not like making this phone call. I could feel his sorrow through the phone. I felt my mind go numb-- blank. His voice felt so distant. I was confused trying to stay strong-- felt my voice cracking, and my tears flowing. Did he just confirm cancer? I was in disbelief, and scared, but tried my best to keep my composure- stay matter of fact. I swear he was speaking in German or something, I could not, for the life of me, understand what this man was saying! I tried to remain calm and just cried silently as I asked him to please spell the diagnosis so I could write it down. Amidst the junk mess on my desk, I managed to find a post-it pad where I begin writing "ductal carcinoma in situ- DCIS" - this is what the doctor had been trying to communicate to me. That word "carcinoma" hits me again as it brings back memories of receiving Casper's cancer diagnosis just over six months ago in February (as many of you know Casper died only a few weeks later on April 1st). I remember feeling fear and hate of that word. It had brought so much sadness to my life. I missed Casper. I remember being on the telephone with the vet and my heart breaking when I received Casper's cancer diagnosis. This time, however, I did not feel heartbroken. Instead, I felt fear and disbelief and a surreal numbness. I don't even think I felt sad the way I did with Casper. Oddly enough, looking back, sadness was nowhere in the span of emotions that ran through me. Nope, no sadness. Just fear and pressure. I suddenly saw my future take a direction that was no where on my radar previously. I was scared and lost. I asked him with a cracking teary voice, "so what happens now? what do I do next? What stage cancer is this?" He tells me simply that they had provided me a list of surgeons and telephone numbers, and so now I need to contact a surgeon. Just like that. He was done with me. His role in this journey was over in his eyes, and I was left hanging-- wondering, what the fuck? This can't be happening-- that's it? Tell me I need to contact a surgeon from a list on a piece of paper that was handed to me after the biopsy that I misplaced somewhere in my paper file hoarding home? OMG! Let me catch my breath and try to figure this out. Before I can, I'm super emotional and worrying about work now that I know for sure I will not have my time released by noon. Fuck!
As soon as I hang up, I cry some more and then go straight to our controller's office. Bless her heart, dear Robbyn was the first person I shared the news with. I think the first and last days of every month is stressful for me, it's most likely ten times more for her as she needs us to get all our time in so she can do her job and get the bills out. Here I am sitting in front of her as she also is scrambling to get things done, and I just cry telling her I will probably not make the noon cut-off time, but will get my time in as soon as possible. I just cannot think straight right now as I just found out I have breast cancer. She's super supportive and understanding and offers to put my time in for me. I wish I wrote it exactly how I input it, but I don't so I can't give it to her to do for me. I thank her and say I will get it done. Eventually, I do get it done, but it is after the 12pm deadline. But at least it's in. I don't have to stress that anymore. Today, I also have a ton of work to get done. Looking back on it, that was good because it forced me to keep going and be busy and not sulk in my fear...
After I spoke with Robbyn, I emailed my biggest boss, Ron, as I had kept him in the loop about what was going on, and I promised to keep him updated. I sent him an email letting him know my results were positive and I have cancer. I thanked him for his support and concern. He responded asking whether he could help, if he should begin making some calls to find a surgeon. I let him know that would be incredible and I would appreciate it so much. I needed that. I needed someone else to help me and take over where to go from here.
After I emailed him, I sent the following text to my closest friends and family who had known what I was going through and were waiting for results with me:
"I'm super busy n have tons to get done, but fyi- thanks everyone for your support n prayers- the doctor called n I have early breast cancer- doctor was much helpful- I need to call breast surgeons to schedule appointment n see next steps. Clare n non, pls don't tell my mom or the family yet. Please everyone else give me some time to digest. Thanks again for all the prayers n support- could always be worse, life is still beautiful :)"
In my text, I mistyped saying the doctor was much helpful- I had meant to text that the doctor was NOT helpful. In the end, it's better I typed it wrong as it kept everyone calm. I received various responses throughout that day. I was in a surreal world as I had lots of work to get done, and then at the same time, I kept laughing and was just trying to keep a humorous attitude about it. Don't get me wrong, I cried a lot- a lot, but I also laughed trying to stay composed. I emailed my bosses (the partners) as I did not know how else to communicate to them all when everyone was busy. I even joked in that email apologizing for having to do it through e-mail, but I didn't know the protocol as I have never had cancer before- lol! Yes, I lol'd in an email to my big bosses. They all responded with support. It was a surreal and busy day. I did not really have time to let it all sink in and think about what this all meant for my life. I think I was trying to do damage control. I immediately emailed my parents after telling everyone, and then I texted my cousins that I let my parents know already so no more family secrets.
Each of the partners responded with support. A couple came to my office almost immediately after. Laura came and gave me a hug, and another partner who is the equivalent of the class clown came all somber and serious with words of support and encouragement-- I couldn't handle that. I asked him to please go back to not being serious and be funny and laughed and thanked him. You kind of know you're in real life trouble when the constant joker becomes serious--- thank God he went back to his sarcastic self which made me feel better. I understand that cancer makes people uncomfortable, and people are not sure how to treat a person with cancer. I know, because I was one of them. At some point prior in time, those of us who have cancer didn't and few of us knew people in our lives that did, so I get the awkwardness. I find myself trying to make others comfortable, which has helped. By no means should I be the standard of how to act around a cancer patient, each of us deal with this in our own way. Humor and openness happen to be my way and work for me. I know others who are extremely private about it and I respect that.
I worked the rest of the day- keeping busy. After work that night, as I was driving home, I called my parents. It was probably around 7pm here so about 12 noon in Saipan. My mom answered. I asked her if she checked her email yet. She said no. She said she was afraid to check. I had not taken the time to really think about how frightening this must have been for my parents. Quite frankly, I thought she would have been checking her email asap the way I was eager to hear from the doctor. When she said she was too afraid to check, it kind of hit me that I am my parents' child and they probably are more afraid than I am and would be feeling that extra emotion of devastation and sadness that I felt when I got Casper's diagnosis. I didn't think about that before hearing her say that. *sigh* I told her, "well, the results came back positive and I have breast cancer." I'm still driving on my way home as I tell her. I tried to make it better explaining that I was lucky it was caught so early, and I will be fine. She was devastated. She said she wished it was her instead and she did not want me to have to go through this. I felt her sadness. We talked and I explained that I should be fine with my diagnosis. I begged her not to come to Arizona yet until I was ready, after I selected a surgeon. I know she did not like that I was making this request. I promised her I would let her know when I needed her and that I already know that I would need her, but now is not the time. She kept trying to convince me that she should come now and she would not be in my way. I made it clear that I was not ready, and it would only cause me more stress. She had me speak to my dad. If you know my dad, he's very much the wise man in the family. Always calm and collected unless you really piss him off- lol! I remember giving him the news and he kept saying, "life- this is life." He asked what they could do, and I told him the best thing he could do for me right now is keep my mom there at least until after I find a surgeon and know what I will be doing. He agreed. I reassured him that I know I will need them, and I will tell them when that happens. I let him know I had many supporters here too. He said he would respect my request, but also told me not to impose on the people here because they have their own lives and responsibilities and he and mom could come and help me. When he said this, I knew he wanted to come too. I told him I understood. I knew they both wanted to be here with me, but I was not ready, and I knew at least my dad respected this and would abide with my request.
It was only later that I found out from my mom that her friends had been giving her pressure and crap about not being here with me. They kept telling her I needed her (which I do now, but not then) and that she should just come. I am so glad she knows me better and did not listen to them. She told them I am no longer an islander. I am a city girl and not any regular city girl, I became a New Yorker, so they don't know that I am serious when I say please leave me alone for now. Ha!ha! Good for her. I totally understand and appreciate her friends, but she definitely knows me better as we have had to learn this the hard way in the past. I'm just not typical and lost my islander status long ago.... I'm strong and independent like my mother, but stubborn and hard headed like my father, so in the end it's their fault. Kidding, a little... lol! LOVE YOU BOTH SO MUCH MOM AND DAD! :)
I don't remember much else from that day, except that that WHOLE WEEK was surreal. I tried to book myself every night with friends or family for dinner or just visiting or going out. I don't think I could stand being alone with my thoughts and reality. Thanks to those of you who kept me busy and allowed me to intrude that first week-- you know who you are (Clare, Ramon, Naomi, Jeff, Julia, Betsy). I remember not knowing how to respond to people when they would ask me how have I been. I know people just give their usual standard answers, but I was always weird about it and answer honestly-- this time, however, I wasn't sure how to answer. Sometimes I gave the same generic "fine" answer, and other times, I would over-share and say I have cancer. lol! I always cried when I first told someone I have cancer, but now I am way better about it. That first Saturday, I could finally lift heavy things after my biopsy, so I went to Sam's club to buy cases of bottled water. I thought about it as my first Saturday knowing I have cancer. It still felt very surreal. I told the two male cashiers at checkout after one asked how my day was going. I responded, "It's my first Saturday knowing I have cancer, and it's going OK as can be." They both shared their mother's had breast cancer and wished me well. I still think about it and look back and laugh about how I handled it all. I have never considered myself "normal," but I agree I might have pushed that too far telling random strangers I have cancer when they engage in generic insincere "how are you" conversations. Oh well.
It just all felt like a dream-- and not necessarily like a bad dream, just a dream. It didn't seem real that first week (still sometimes doesn't feel real); I just knew I had to find the best care possible, and I had a lot of homework on my hands about treatment and breast cancer and surgeons in the area. Life changed.
“Right now I want a word that describes the feeling that you get--a cold sick feeling, deep down inside--when you know something is happening that will change you, and you don't want it to, but you can't stop it. And you know, for the first time, for the very first time, that there will now be a before and an after, a was and a will be. And that you will never again quite be the same person you were.” ― Jennifer Donnelly, A Northern Light
I woke up this morning anxious, because I knew I would get the results of my biopsy, and I would either have cancer or not. It was a big day. I don't know how I felt. I know I needed results-- three weeks of not knowing was more than I could handle. I want to say I was pretty certain the results would report that it was negative, and I was stressing for nothing. I thought I would feel like such a fool for allowing it to screw with my head all this time when I didn't even have cancer. Looking back, I really believed that my results would be negative, with the slight fear of the possibility of cancer. I thought I was ready for the relief and ready to tell the few people I had shared my experience with that it was a false alarm, and life could proceed as normal once again. Gosh! The not knowing and wondering and all the "ifs" that ran through my head was the ultimate worse part of this experience...so far.
I get to work, and it's the first day of the next month, because of the labor day holiday weekend. This means that all my billing time must be entered and released, so the firm can bill the clients and we can get paid. Without the added stress of wondering whether I have cancer, the end and beginning of every month is always stressful at work. I need to enter and release all my time by noon today. I have some work to get done this morning, and then I stop and try to enter all my billing time before noon. Earlier, the man I had just started dating texted me that he was sure I would get good news today. Everyone else texted me along those same lines. Deep down, I believed they were right even thought I still felt anxious about it. We were all ready for these damn results to come and confirm it for us. I wish it came after 12pm though, but of course not-- just my luck, the doctor calls at around right before 11:00am, in the midst of entering all my time...
I answer like a nervous wreck. The doctor reports to me that the pathologist report came back and they found some positive results for blah blah blah.... His voice was solemn, you could feel he was uncomfortable and also did not like making this phone call. I could feel his sorrow through the phone. I felt my mind go numb-- blank. His voice felt so distant. I was confused trying to stay strong-- felt my voice cracking, and my tears flowing. Did he just confirm cancer? I was in disbelief, and scared, but tried my best to keep my composure- stay matter of fact. I swear he was speaking in German or something, I could not, for the life of me, understand what this man was saying! I tried to remain calm and just cried silently as I asked him to please spell the diagnosis so I could write it down. Amidst the junk mess on my desk, I managed to find a post-it pad where I begin writing "ductal carcinoma in situ- DCIS" - this is what the doctor had been trying to communicate to me. That word "carcinoma" hits me again as it brings back memories of receiving Casper's cancer diagnosis just over six months ago in February (as many of you know Casper died only a few weeks later on April 1st). I remember feeling fear and hate of that word. It had brought so much sadness to my life. I missed Casper. I remember being on the telephone with the vet and my heart breaking when I received Casper's cancer diagnosis. This time, however, I did not feel heartbroken. Instead, I felt fear and disbelief and a surreal numbness. I don't even think I felt sad the way I did with Casper. Oddly enough, looking back, sadness was nowhere in the span of emotions that ran through me. Nope, no sadness. Just fear and pressure. I suddenly saw my future take a direction that was no where on my radar previously. I was scared and lost. I asked him with a cracking teary voice, "so what happens now? what do I do next? What stage cancer is this?" He tells me simply that they had provided me a list of surgeons and telephone numbers, and so now I need to contact a surgeon. Just like that. He was done with me. His role in this journey was over in his eyes, and I was left hanging-- wondering, what the fuck? This can't be happening-- that's it? Tell me I need to contact a surgeon from a list on a piece of paper that was handed to me after the biopsy that I misplaced somewhere in my paper file hoarding home? OMG! Let me catch my breath and try to figure this out. Before I can, I'm super emotional and worrying about work now that I know for sure I will not have my time released by noon. Fuck!
As soon as I hang up, I cry some more and then go straight to our controller's office. Bless her heart, dear Robbyn was the first person I shared the news with. I think the first and last days of every month is stressful for me, it's most likely ten times more for her as she needs us to get all our time in so she can do her job and get the bills out. Here I am sitting in front of her as she also is scrambling to get things done, and I just cry telling her I will probably not make the noon cut-off time, but will get my time in as soon as possible. I just cannot think straight right now as I just found out I have breast cancer. She's super supportive and understanding and offers to put my time in for me. I wish I wrote it exactly how I input it, but I don't so I can't give it to her to do for me. I thank her and say I will get it done. Eventually, I do get it done, but it is after the 12pm deadline. But at least it's in. I don't have to stress that anymore. Today, I also have a ton of work to get done. Looking back on it, that was good because it forced me to keep going and be busy and not sulk in my fear...
After I spoke with Robbyn, I emailed my biggest boss, Ron, as I had kept him in the loop about what was going on, and I promised to keep him updated. I sent him an email letting him know my results were positive and I have cancer. I thanked him for his support and concern. He responded asking whether he could help, if he should begin making some calls to find a surgeon. I let him know that would be incredible and I would appreciate it so much. I needed that. I needed someone else to help me and take over where to go from here.
After I emailed him, I sent the following text to my closest friends and family who had known what I was going through and were waiting for results with me:
"I'm super busy n have tons to get done, but fyi- thanks everyone for your support n prayers- the doctor called n I have early breast cancer- doctor was much helpful- I need to call breast surgeons to schedule appointment n see next steps. Clare n non, pls don't tell my mom or the family yet. Please everyone else give me some time to digest. Thanks again for all the prayers n support- could always be worse, life is still beautiful :)"
In my text, I mistyped saying the doctor was much helpful- I had meant to text that the doctor was NOT helpful. In the end, it's better I typed it wrong as it kept everyone calm. I received various responses throughout that day. I was in a surreal world as I had lots of work to get done, and then at the same time, I kept laughing and was just trying to keep a humorous attitude about it. Don't get me wrong, I cried a lot- a lot, but I also laughed trying to stay composed. I emailed my bosses (the partners) as I did not know how else to communicate to them all when everyone was busy. I even joked in that email apologizing for having to do it through e-mail, but I didn't know the protocol as I have never had cancer before- lol! Yes, I lol'd in an email to my big bosses. They all responded with support. It was a surreal and busy day. I did not really have time to let it all sink in and think about what this all meant for my life. I think I was trying to do damage control. I immediately emailed my parents after telling everyone, and then I texted my cousins that I let my parents know already so no more family secrets.
Each of the partners responded with support. A couple came to my office almost immediately after. Laura came and gave me a hug, and another partner who is the equivalent of the class clown came all somber and serious with words of support and encouragement-- I couldn't handle that. I asked him to please go back to not being serious and be funny and laughed and thanked him. You kind of know you're in real life trouble when the constant joker becomes serious--- thank God he went back to his sarcastic self which made me feel better. I understand that cancer makes people uncomfortable, and people are not sure how to treat a person with cancer. I know, because I was one of them. At some point prior in time, those of us who have cancer didn't and few of us knew people in our lives that did, so I get the awkwardness. I find myself trying to make others comfortable, which has helped. By no means should I be the standard of how to act around a cancer patient, each of us deal with this in our own way. Humor and openness happen to be my way and work for me. I know others who are extremely private about it and I respect that.
I worked the rest of the day- keeping busy. After work that night, as I was driving home, I called my parents. It was probably around 7pm here so about 12 noon in Saipan. My mom answered. I asked her if she checked her email yet. She said no. She said she was afraid to check. I had not taken the time to really think about how frightening this must have been for my parents. Quite frankly, I thought she would have been checking her email asap the way I was eager to hear from the doctor. When she said she was too afraid to check, it kind of hit me that I am my parents' child and they probably are more afraid than I am and would be feeling that extra emotion of devastation and sadness that I felt when I got Casper's diagnosis. I didn't think about that before hearing her say that. *sigh* I told her, "well, the results came back positive and I have breast cancer." I'm still driving on my way home as I tell her. I tried to make it better explaining that I was lucky it was caught so early, and I will be fine. She was devastated. She said she wished it was her instead and she did not want me to have to go through this. I felt her sadness. We talked and I explained that I should be fine with my diagnosis. I begged her not to come to Arizona yet until I was ready, after I selected a surgeon. I know she did not like that I was making this request. I promised her I would let her know when I needed her and that I already know that I would need her, but now is not the time. She kept trying to convince me that she should come now and she would not be in my way. I made it clear that I was not ready, and it would only cause me more stress. She had me speak to my dad. If you know my dad, he's very much the wise man in the family. Always calm and collected unless you really piss him off- lol! I remember giving him the news and he kept saying, "life- this is life." He asked what they could do, and I told him the best thing he could do for me right now is keep my mom there at least until after I find a surgeon and know what I will be doing. He agreed. I reassured him that I know I will need them, and I will tell them when that happens. I let him know I had many supporters here too. He said he would respect my request, but also told me not to impose on the people here because they have their own lives and responsibilities and he and mom could come and help me. When he said this, I knew he wanted to come too. I told him I understood. I knew they both wanted to be here with me, but I was not ready, and I knew at least my dad respected this and would abide with my request.
It was only later that I found out from my mom that her friends had been giving her pressure and crap about not being here with me. They kept telling her I needed her (which I do now, but not then) and that she should just come. I am so glad she knows me better and did not listen to them. She told them I am no longer an islander. I am a city girl and not any regular city girl, I became a New Yorker, so they don't know that I am serious when I say please leave me alone for now. Ha!ha! Good for her. I totally understand and appreciate her friends, but she definitely knows me better as we have had to learn this the hard way in the past. I'm just not typical and lost my islander status long ago.... I'm strong and independent like my mother, but stubborn and hard headed like my father, so in the end it's their fault. Kidding, a little... lol! LOVE YOU BOTH SO MUCH MOM AND DAD! :)
I don't remember much else from that day, except that that WHOLE WEEK was surreal. I tried to book myself every night with friends or family for dinner or just visiting or going out. I don't think I could stand being alone with my thoughts and reality. Thanks to those of you who kept me busy and allowed me to intrude that first week-- you know who you are (Clare, Ramon, Naomi, Jeff, Julia, Betsy). I remember not knowing how to respond to people when they would ask me how have I been. I know people just give their usual standard answers, but I was always weird about it and answer honestly-- this time, however, I wasn't sure how to answer. Sometimes I gave the same generic "fine" answer, and other times, I would over-share and say I have cancer. lol! I always cried when I first told someone I have cancer, but now I am way better about it. That first Saturday, I could finally lift heavy things after my biopsy, so I went to Sam's club to buy cases of bottled water. I thought about it as my first Saturday knowing I have cancer. It still felt very surreal. I told the two male cashiers at checkout after one asked how my day was going. I responded, "It's my first Saturday knowing I have cancer, and it's going OK as can be." They both shared their mother's had breast cancer and wished me well. I still think about it and look back and laugh about how I handled it all. I have never considered myself "normal," but I agree I might have pushed that too far telling random strangers I have cancer when they engage in generic insincere "how are you" conversations. Oh well.
It just all felt like a dream-- and not necessarily like a bad dream, just a dream. It didn't seem real that first week (still sometimes doesn't feel real); I just knew I had to find the best care possible, and I had a lot of homework on my hands about treatment and breast cancer and surgeons in the area. Life changed.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
10/03/2012- REALLY? Intentions gone wrong.
"It is difficult to say who do you the most harm: enemies with the worst intentions or friends with the best."
- Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton
I was greeted first thing this morning with a message from a good friend on my phone. It said hello and asked how I am doing. As I am always happy to hear from my friend, it was a great way to kick off my day. Then he continued, "I was reading up on mastectomy, have you considered lumpectomy?"
OMG! If you have been keeping up with my blog, you could probably feel my blood boil. I told him to read my blog and please respect my decision. He is one of my greatest friends, and I KNOW he has all the best intentions in the world and is just concerned for my well being as "Wikepedia" has informed him of the higher surgical risks associated with the more invasive radical mastectomy procedure versus a lumpectomy. I'm laughing as I cite his source of Wikepedia. He's a good person, and I know he meant well as many of you who continue to question my judgment in the treatment I have opted for. This is fine, but please keep your opinion to yourself if it is contrary to mine in this aspect of something so personal to me involving my body and my health. I welcome and appreciate all the concern and love and support, but please think first before you say anything to me about this.
I am an educated independent woman who has not rushed to immediate surgery, because I have taken my time this past MONTH seeing MULTIPLE doctors, got books from the library and have read through them, and searched for a second medical opinion. I know so much information, and I know my risks for each option and the potential quality of my life after each. I made the best decision for me. The most closure from breast cancer that I can have. I am at peace with my decision, so please be at peace with it too (or don't share with me if you're not). That said, asking me if I considered a lumpectomy over a mastectomy is like asking a person buying tea at Starbucks whether he knows they sell coffee. It doesn't take a genius, and I'm no genius, but I'm definitely not a moron either. To my friend who this is talking about. I hold no anger toward you or malice of any sort. I know you and I know your intentions have nothing to do with thinking I am stupid or dumb, but only come from genuine concern. I appreciate you and your friendship- this has not changed. Maybe it happened to protect my next friend who was thinking of doing the same thing, but will be held back after reading this.
Happy Wednesday people :)
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Tuesday, October 2, 2012
10/02/2012- I've got Mayo mail
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| My letter from Mayo clinic today. This is about my right breast (the one NOT diagnosed with cancer (although apparently might have it too). This was my second mammogram on my right breast only, less than 2 months from my initial mammogram that revealed cancer in my left breast. This reassures me that I'm making the right decision getting a double/bilateral mastectomy. The never knowing, and having to go through this again is not worth keeping my breasts. I've discovered that those women in my life who have gone through lumpectomy and mastectomy (Fabiola and Caroline) have given me their full support. They did not have the options I have now before me when it was them in my position. I have thought about this every which way back and forth, and I cannot be convinced otherwise. I don't even know why I'm blogging this as if to get the approval of everyone. I realize this is hard for some of you to understand, but it's not for you to understand. I have to do what is best for me, and believe me when I say I did not come to this decision easily or without serious thought and internal debate.... Common side effects of Tamoxifen (what I would have to be on for 5 years if I just got a lumpectomy just to lower my risk of recurrence and not remove it completely): hot flashes or night sweats, nausea, irregular periods in women prior to menopause, vaginal discharge, vaginal itching, dryness or irritation. Less frequent symptoms include depression, loss of appetite, eye problems such as cataracts, headache, and weight gain. There also can be an increased risk of blood clots, strokes and uterine cancers such as endometrial cancer. I also am not suppose to get pregnant during these 5 years. I have the option to avoid this and be done with breast cancer's never ending gift of side effects. This doesn't include the side effects and time consuming radiation therapy I am also avoiding with a double mastectomy. Some feel this is too radical for an early diagnosis-- I, on the other hand, feel it is radical not to do it at this early stage, and radical that many women in my position are not made aware of this option by their health providers. Again, I am lucky, because I got a second opinion and did not just go with the typical status quo. I feel the pain of my friends who weren't given this option and are now living with these unknowns. They are strong beautiful women who inspire me and whose support have meant the most, because they were here before me. “Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.” ― Nora Ephron |
Monday, October 1, 2012
10/01/2012 - Choices, Tragedy and Perspective...
October 1, 2012- Monday
It's only past midnight, so it's still September 30th to me. If you read my last blog, it explains my options. I am confident with the choice I have made. I decided to have the double mastectomy with reconstruction simultaneously at Mayo, and I will be calling the doctors at both CTCA and Mayo to let them know and get my surgery scheduled asap after confirming insurance coverage. I will cancel the MRI. The other positive thing about Mayo is I signed forms that will give my cancerous tissue for research to help other women in the future- kind of a side benefit, to feel like I am also playing a role in helping fight this disease. This is my decision, please respect it.
Other updates: My parents should be here by Friday. I will be surrounded by family, and I won't be alone. This week was much longer than I had originally thought during my last appointment last week Tuesday. On Friday morning, I received news from home that my god-sister had died tragically, suddenly, and without explanation. She had just turned 32. It has been a difficult and exhausting weekend for me and my family (those here in Arizona with me and those in Saipan). Having cancer has definitely given me a new lens on life, but the sudden and tragic circumstances of my god-sister's death makes you realize that life is so precious, and that it doesn't matter whether you have cancer or not-- we do not know when anybody's time will end on earth. We really don't...
Tell your family and friends you love them. Nobody knows what struggles each person may be enduring. Cancer is my struggle now, but I plan on surviving. I never saw any other option. I'm fighting this, and I appreciate so much everyone's support-- I could never do it alone. Perspective is everything. I have kept a light-heartedness about my cancer. I know I am blessed and super fortunate for catching it so early, for having insurance, an understanding and supportive employer, and family and friends that love me so much- this cancer has most likely caused them more stress than it has me. I know this. That said, I am also freaking out still and have other mental issues to work through with this decision. I am confident it is the right and best thing for me and my future. It still sucks, but I think it sucks less than my alternatives. I am strong. I don't want to repeat my reasons and options over and over (hence this blog), so please don't ask me to. I will be as normal as possible and I continue to live life as it has not paused to wait for me and this damn cancer.
I am functional and try to be as normal as possible, but I am also human, so please know yes, I am terrified. Terrified of the surgery, the outcome, the possibility of cancer becoming invasive, of lymphodema, of infection, of making sure my family is comfortable, of being competent at work, of having enough time for anything and everything, of being judged, of life after surgery. I'm a little fucken terrified, but I will not show it to you, because I cannot go down that path of negativity and fear. It exists in me, and I will deal with it if necessary. For now, I choose to be positive and not fall apart. Please help me not fall apart by treating me normal, but also being a little patient with me. I haven't been sleeping well and I'm close to falling apart, but I choose to laugh and I may also choose to be alone sometimes. It's a hard thing I'm trying to figure out. I had done everything I could the first weeks of my diagnosis to make sure I had plans practically everyday hanging with someone or doing something, going out. It was too hard to be home alone with my fear and sadness, so yes, I don't want to be alone or to go through this alone. That said, I know I need alone time too when I feel like escaping this reality. It has been difficult trying to balance the two and figure out what works best for me.
Right now, I guess I just need to sleep. Goodnight....
“I won't tell you that the world matters nothing, or the
world's voice, or the voice of society. They matter a good deal. They matter
far too much. But there are moments when one has to choose between living one's
own life, fully, entirely, completely—or dragging out some false, shallow,
degrading existence that the world in its hypocrisy demands. You have that
moment now. Choose!”
― Oscar Wilde
It's only past midnight, so it's still September 30th to me. If you read my last blog, it explains my options. I am confident with the choice I have made. I decided to have the double mastectomy with reconstruction simultaneously at Mayo, and I will be calling the doctors at both CTCA and Mayo to let them know and get my surgery scheduled asap after confirming insurance coverage. I will cancel the MRI. The other positive thing about Mayo is I signed forms that will give my cancerous tissue for research to help other women in the future- kind of a side benefit, to feel like I am also playing a role in helping fight this disease. This is my decision, please respect it.
Other updates: My parents should be here by Friday. I will be surrounded by family, and I won't be alone. This week was much longer than I had originally thought during my last appointment last week Tuesday. On Friday morning, I received news from home that my god-sister had died tragically, suddenly, and without explanation. She had just turned 32. It has been a difficult and exhausting weekend for me and my family (those here in Arizona with me and those in Saipan). Having cancer has definitely given me a new lens on life, but the sudden and tragic circumstances of my god-sister's death makes you realize that life is so precious, and that it doesn't matter whether you have cancer or not-- we do not know when anybody's time will end on earth. We really don't...
Tell your family and friends you love them. Nobody knows what struggles each person may be enduring. Cancer is my struggle now, but I plan on surviving. I never saw any other option. I'm fighting this, and I appreciate so much everyone's support-- I could never do it alone. Perspective is everything. I have kept a light-heartedness about my cancer. I know I am blessed and super fortunate for catching it so early, for having insurance, an understanding and supportive employer, and family and friends that love me so much- this cancer has most likely caused them more stress than it has me. I know this. That said, I am also freaking out still and have other mental issues to work through with this decision. I am confident it is the right and best thing for me and my future. It still sucks, but I think it sucks less than my alternatives. I am strong. I don't want to repeat my reasons and options over and over (hence this blog), so please don't ask me to. I will be as normal as possible and I continue to live life as it has not paused to wait for me and this damn cancer.
I am functional and try to be as normal as possible, but I am also human, so please know yes, I am terrified. Terrified of the surgery, the outcome, the possibility of cancer becoming invasive, of lymphodema, of infection, of making sure my family is comfortable, of being competent at work, of having enough time for anything and everything, of being judged, of life after surgery. I'm a little fucken terrified, but I will not show it to you, because I cannot go down that path of negativity and fear. It exists in me, and I will deal with it if necessary. For now, I choose to be positive and not fall apart. Please help me not fall apart by treating me normal, but also being a little patient with me. I haven't been sleeping well and I'm close to falling apart, but I choose to laugh and I may also choose to be alone sometimes. It's a hard thing I'm trying to figure out. I had done everything I could the first weeks of my diagnosis to make sure I had plans practically everyday hanging with someone or doing something, going out. It was too hard to be home alone with my fear and sadness, so yes, I don't want to be alone or to go through this alone. That said, I know I need alone time too when I feel like escaping this reality. It has been difficult trying to balance the two and figure out what works best for me.
Right now, I guess I just need to sleep. Goodnight....
9/25/2012- Mayo Clinic Day! "Mayo your dreams come true!"
September 25, 2012 - Tuesday
“We must find time to stop and thank the people who make a difference in our lives.”
― John F. Kennedy
A big day for me and one of my bosses hit his big 50 today! I won't call him out, but in case you're reading this- sorry I didn't send you birthday greetings this day, so happy belated birthday! You are an awesome boss! Thank you for all your support!
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“Choices are funny things-ask a native tribe that's eaten grubs and roots forever if they're unhappy, and they'll shrug. But give them filet mignon and truffle sauce and then ask them to go back to living off the land, and they will always be thinking of that gourmet meal. If you don't know there's an alternative, you can't miss it.”
― Jodi Picoult, Handle With Care
Ugh! Let's just say today I got a sample taste of that gourmet meal (Mayo Clinic options). One would think this is awesome, but I'm left feeling overwhelmed, confused, and numb. I'm not sad- I cried very little today compared to last week, I think I'm just tired and seriously conflicted. Let me rewind to how it all started...
I was determined, or so I thought... I'm going to make sure I "wake up and pay attention!" (when you read that quote, you should be singing it like in the movie Sister Act) I woke up and I was early! My gas tank was empty (light had been glowing the night before, but I was super exhausted from working late, I did not bother to fill up), so after I got ready, I drove first to the gas station and filled up my tank. I made sure to fill it to a total that had the number 3 in it. Three for some reason has become my good luck number and I finally hit it after almost over-filling my tank. I was so happy I hit number 13, I knew today was off to a good start.
My schedule said I had to check in at 8:45am. I was there by 8:30am-- great start! I get in the "check-in" line and the lady hands me some forms to complete and says my appointment is at 9:45 am since I had handled most of the paperwork over the telephone a couple of weeks ago already. I was excited I was not late, so I asked where the cafeteria was so I could feed my greedy belly. She said she already checked me in, so because they know I'm there, they might call me anytime, so I shouldn't leave. She said I could go to the cafeteria and come back but let her know. I decided that was too complicated, and would just kill time completing the forms and checking in on facebook (of course- lol!).
This campus of the Mayo clinic is familiar as I had brought my mom here for her appointments a few years ago, so I was not surprised. It does NOT have that gross hospital feeling to it, but rather a hotel and airport type feeling. It is a very nice facility, except that the elevators smell like fruit bat (fanihi for all my chamorro peoples), skunk for my fellow mid-westerners, and skunk marijuana (for all my non-fellow pot heads-lol!). I did not realize every elevator smelled this way until I had to take them throughout the day. That said, I was completely horrified when I first went in the elevator to go to the 3rd floor where the breast clinic is located, and it stopped on the second floor where I was the only person in the elevator and another person entered. I couldn't help but think, "Damn! this man must think I stunk up this elevator." I wanted to say, "just FYI this elevator smelled this way before I got on." But I didn't. Although, I should have. lol!
The airport part is there are two lines, one for "check in" and the other I think was for "scheduling." You get in line and wait as if you're about to check-in at an airport, except now it has become a bank, because the people are sitting in bank teller like booths. They are all very friendly and quite fast to help you. After I checked in and killed time on facebook on my phone and completing the check in forms, I am finally called. I am led by a very nice lady name Jane ( I remember because my boss just had a beautiful baby she named Lola Jane), who seems more genuinely heart broken about my cancer than I am. She leads me to the back and takes my weight and height. Today I am 120 pounds. It turns out they also take weight by KG and convert to LBS-- (must be a medical thing). I have lost weight during this process, but not because I'm getting skinnier, but because I swear I must have lost muscle since I stopped my insane Insanity routine, ugh! I digress (blame the tequila- I might regret this post later- tequila and internet blogging doesn't sound very smart- whatever! It's MY journal!).
Jane leads me to an examination room that looks like an office too. I try to make light and joke about my cancer, and she kind of laughs with me and then makes sure she says she's not making light of my situation. I know this and remind her it's OK. She really was sad for me. I felt bad for her. She leaves and another lady came in, a nurse. She's younger, eight months pregnant and beautiful. I like her and she laughs at all my jokes, genuinely! lol! I find out she's expecting her first child, a son, on October 29, which makes me think of my boss's wife due on the 31st and my friend from 7th grade due on the 30th-- plenty babies this year. She's super sweet and helpful. She holds this white binder and shows me with excitement telling me that it is mine to keep! I'm thinking that my probably genuine leather giveaway from CTCA is way more impressive than this, but didn't want to break her excitement so I pretend it's exciting for me too- lol! The binder also has slots with business cards inserted- just like CTCA! I'm so bad- lol! I take the binder and continue chatting with this lovely young nurse. She explains to me that I will be meeting Dr. Gray who is the surgical oncologist. She says how great his is. I ask her if he's the one who will be cutting me if I select Mayo, and she confirms. I said good because I want to meet who potentially will be the one cutting me. She then tells me that he has a resident assistant with him, and asks whether that's OK with me. I laugh and say of course, just my luck, like CTCA, they also had a "shadow" doctor in training. I told her so there would be three people watching as they examine my boobs, the two male doctors and a female nurse. To my surprise, she says that they don't have to have a female nurse in the room, unless the patient wants it, and that they usually ask the patient's preference. I tell her I don't care either way, and it's fine if there's no female in the room, and I'm OK with the resident assistant coming in with my surgeon. She hands me the hospital gown and instructs me yo undress from the waist up and open side on the front (same routine and I laugh again as I remember my first CTCA visit with leaving the back open- I share this humiliating story with the nurse and we laugh together).
She leaves and I get changed and wait for the doctors to come in. To my surprise just the resident surgeon comes in alone. He's not wearing the typical white lab coat. Nope. He is instead dressed in a suit (like a corporate business man or attorney). He is tall, young looking and slender. He reminds me of a character from a sitcom-- like the guy from the Big Bang Theory on CBS, Sheldon. He's very scientific and has some of that demeanor that Sheldon character has. An eccentric character, but one that I liked. He asks me all the same questions I have been asked over and over through this process, and then he says he will examine me. I must admit that even though I had that discussion with the nurse earlier, I was surprised that he was going to examine me with nobody else in the room. I had expected at least the main surgeon would be in the room too. He had me lay down and then begins to feel and examine both my breasts. He uses his fingers and begins walking them around each boob. He's very thorough and notes the lumpiness. It's done and I get back up. Now, I don't recall whether he leaves and then comes back with the main surgeon or whether the main surgeon just comes in after. Looking back, I'm pretty sure he leaves to get the surgeon and then they both come back in together.
The main surgeon (the one who would be cutting me), Dr. Gray, is also dressed in a corporate suit. I notice he has a light pink neck tie and I like that (since having breast cancer, I've become a big fan of pink). He is also tall and slender, but not as slender as the resident surgeon. He looks older than the resident, but still not old- he looks like he could still be in his 40's. They both have wedding bands, and for some strange reason this comforts me- weird but true. They had asked earlier about my profession, and he tells me he is partial to lawyers, because his wife is an attorney. We discuss my case and diagnosis, and he brings up facts and options that I had not heard about from CTCA. He said if he did the lumpectomy, he would not do the sentinel node biopsy unless after the lumpectomy if it shows some invasive cancer, then he would do the biopsy on the lymph node. I asked why, and he said the biopsy on the lymph node risks causing lymphodema which is a life long condition- uncurable. He would not risk that unless necessary. It is pain and swelling of the arm for life. If, however, I opted for a mastectomy, he would have to do the sentinel node biopsy, because you cannot do it after a mastectomy (can't go backwards). It apparently involves putting radioactive ink in something that leads to whatever node they need to biopsy, and if the breast is removed, they cannot do this. So with a mastectomy, I risk lymphodema in that arm- with a double mastectomy, I risk it in both arms. A condition for life. FML. He also said that their radiologist wanted to order another mammogram on my right breast, because they noticed something that is not so clear in my original mammogram films. We discussed waiting for my genetic testing results and also the ordered MRI by CTCA. He said he agreed with the timing of the MRI and CTCA's recommendation there as he also would have ordered one out of concern for my right breast too. The end of it all, he asked whether I wanted to get everything done in one day or as much as I could today and then anything we couldn't do today on another day. I told him I took the whole day off, and so I wanted to get as much done as I could today. He said he would go check the other doctors and see what I could get done today. I walk out and wait in another area where they make a new schedule for me. He was able to get everything in for today. Thank God!
The next thing on my schedule is in an hour and a half at 12:30pm. It's with the plastic surgeon in case I decide to get a mastectomy, this doctor would do the reconstructive surgery with an implant or other piece of my body type surgery. I realize my schedule is full for the day, so I had better grab something from the cafeteria and feed my belly. I take the skunk smelling elevator to the cafeteria level. I am disappointed, because CTCA had spoiled me with their lovely dining room set-up and especially their ridiculously cheap cancer patient discount! Mayo was nothing special, and not cheap. I paid over $7 for my meal, and the set-up was crowded with lots of sick people.
OMG! When I heard a cough, I wanted to stop breathing! All I kept thinking about is the people here are sick with potentially EVERYTHING, not just cancer! OMG! That person might have tuberculosis, I better not breathe! lol! I get this germaphobia from my father. At CTCA, you know nobody is contagious-- the beauty of cancer :) ha!ha! God only knows what's roaming the halls and cafeteria of Mayo- just sayin... *sigh* I finally get through lunch and head to meet with the plastic surgeon.
To my pleasant surprise, YES! FINALLY, a female doctor! And I love her too! She is AMAZING! She would be the plastic surgeon that would do my breast reconstruction if I got a mastectomy. She shows me the silicone and the saline implants. We discussed in detail these option, risks etc. She then informs me that getting a double mastectomy is also an option for me to keep my breast balanced and as similar as possible and not have to worry in the future about my right breast if I only had a mastectomy on the left. It was peace of mind she was offering. I had no idea that federal law required insurance to cover reconstructive surgery for both breasts even with my diagnosis. Also, if my diagnosis proved to remain noninvasive and far from the nipple, the mastectomy could be done sparing my nipple. Normal mastectomy removes all the breast, skin and nipple included! That's a much more difficult thing for me to handle thinking about. Now, they might be able to save my nipple and just remove my breast-- although I would still not have any feeling of my breast, it seems oddly comforting knowing I would be able to skip nipple tattooing and reconstruction after the surgery. The more we talked about everything, I kept asking the doctor, "why wouldn't I have a mastectomy?" I still cannot understand why I would opt for a lumpectomy after everything we discussed and all that I learned. I forgot to mention that in the consult earlier with the surgical oncologist Dr. Gray, he said if I did the mastectomy, I would NOT need radiation. Now if I did a double mastectomy, not only would I not bother with radiation, I would not bother with 5 years of tamoxifen! How wonderful is that! Downside is it's a major surgery and will require more healing time and an overnight hospital stay. But without having the have 6 weeks of radiation after, it seems like the lumpectomy is still more intrusive. The plastic surgeon, Dr, Bash, was absolutely AMAZING! When we ended, she gave me a hug and was so comforting and understanding and thorough, I knew I trusted her. Additionally, she and Dr. Gray have worked together before doing the same procedure. If I opted for this, Dr. Gray would remove my breast and she would start reconstruction immediately as he began removing the next breast. They know each other, work together and have done this before. I trust them both.
This appointment took longer than was scheduled for as I had another appointment with radiation in the next hour. They were setting up that I go get photographs of my breast taken in case I decide to get the procedure done, but I pointed out I was already over ten minutes late for my radiation appointment. They send me off to my radiation appointment and give me a slip to get the photo's taken after my other appointments. I rush out and walk over to the other end where there is a separate check-in for radiation.
At the radiation/oncology consult, I am first seen my a nurse who is very nice and helpful and then she mentions my father being dead so young. I told her my father is alive and very healthy, that was my uncle, his brother that had died from lung cancer. Apparently, now Mayo thinks it's my father that is dead and not my father's brother (my uncle)-- sorry dad!! lol! Thankfully, this is an error on whoever input the information from my medical records re family cancer history. They still have it in their record but I had her correct it. The radiation oncologist is also an Asian man (like CTCA- now I forever have the stereotype that radiation oncologists must be Asian- lol!), Mr. Wong. His nurse gave me the heads up that he will be overly informative and tell me all the risks, but that she has rarely ever seen any of the risks actually occur. Mr. Wong enters and we discuss in detail all about radiation treatment after surgery. Apparently, some of the risks include very minimal risk of cancer caused by radiation (ironic). Then sometimes the radiation can affect the lungs and I would get a cough that would be treated with prednisone. Also, since it's my left breast, my heart is right there, there's a risk of future heart problems, but that's why they don't shoot the radiation straight from the front back, but more slanted from the side to try to avoid exposure to the heart and lungs. Also, ribs might be more sensitive and prone to fracturing. And then after radiation, I have to be on tomaxifen for 5 years, prohibiting me from having children until after 5 years, and also would still not guarantee no reoccurence, but only reduce the percentage chance of reoccurence. If I opted for the lumpectomy and radiation for six weeks after surgery has healed, I have to go drive for radiation treatments 5 days a week for 6 weeks, and these are only the possible side effects and not the other unknown side effects of how radiation would affect-- if I would be more lethargic or tired etc. It just felt so extremely dragged out and never ending. Don't get me wrong, I am glad I don't have to have chemo as I can only imagine all the effects of that, but radiation is not a joke either. People stay away from radiation for a reason. Dr. Gray said the radiation oncologist explained it this way, "low doses of radiation cause cancer, but high doses kill cancer." Let's think about this. I'm ordered another mammogram today which would make my exposure twice in less than 2 months, and then for the rest of my life every year I would need little doses of radiation exposure for mammograms on my breasts since I am now high risk. WTH?!?! It's a never fucken ending story/cycle I am foreseeing here. I am no longer comfortable with radiation therapy. Dr. Wong was also very amazing. He was very scientific and informative, which I found very helpful. As soon as this is done, I run to my next appointment, which is another mammogram on my right breast. Yippie! radiation exposure. :(
I get to the lower level where the mammograms are done. No cell phone service. I check in and wait to be called. They call me and a lady walks me to a dressing room and hands me a half gown type top that has arms (no christmas tree skirt here). This time she instructs me to change into this from waist up and leave all my belongings in the dressing room. When I'm done, there's a key to the door that I take and wrap the band on my wrist after locking my room. I go into a second waiting room where another older lady is waiting in the same hospital gown top. They have free coffee, orange juice, water and apple juice and crackers as we wait. They have a TV on and I think HGTV is on and magazines. I take a seat and grab a magazine and watch TV. I try to make conversation with the other lady in the room, but she's not interested. Poor me- lol! I crack the silence by jokingly telling her- "Hey, we have the same top on!" She was polite back to me, but that was it- back to the silence we go. A few other women come and sit and still everyone is so unfriendly. I'm still the youngest looking one in the gown, as usual.
Finally, a woman who is lanky and tall and gray haired, looks like she has to be in her 70's or even 80's comes out slightly hunched back and calls my name. She makes me think she could be a character from a cartoon-- the old emotionless bored disinterested villain's assistant. She's as exciting and enthused as her appearance. She wasn't the short haired blond I had at my first mammogram, but she does bear hug me from behind too. She leads me to the mammogram room, which is freezing. There's a computer and the mammogram machine. She hands me this heavy padded like x-ray type thing to tie around my waist (velcrow belted). I think it strange that the other mammogram place didn't make me wear this and wonder now whether my lower body was not protected at the other mammogram place (crap! low dose radiation causes cancer, remember). Anyway, she tries to take an image of my right boob after placing me in the machine. She's frustrated and gives me this face as she cannot get an image. She re-positions me and tells me to keep my head up, and not look down at what she's trying to do with my boob, because my body position changes. As she leaves me trapped in this machine, she goes to the computer and each time says "Don't breathe." I already was naturally holding my breath as she told me not to move, so I was probably turning blue by then. She's not happy about the images, and resets the machine with other parts and takes more images. She then instructs me she will show them to the doctor, so I should go back to the waiting room, but do not leave yet. She kept telling me I cannot leave yet. I told her ok and went back to the waiting room where other older women continue to ignore each other as we wait in the same half gowns. I decide I want to get coffee while I'm waiting-- it's past 3:30pm at this point- coffee is cold and disgusting-- I threw it away and ate graham crackers. I was tired.
Finally, another person calls me and she leads me to a room where the radiologist comes to meet me. We introduce each other, and he begins to tell me that he is not comfortable saying my right breast does not have cancer or that it does. He said if i was an older woman with the same mammogram, he probably would not be concerned about the calcifications in my right breast, but because I'm young (tend to me more aggresive cancers), and I have DCIS in my left breast, he cannot say it is not cancer in my right breast, and therefore would like to order a biopsy on my right breast. FML. REALLY? ugh! I'm sooo over my boobs by this point. He said he spoke to Dr. Gray and that Dr. Gray said I can go back to him right now to discuss this with him. I thanked him and told him I would go speak to Dr. Gray. I also said depending on my genetic testing, this may all be moot if my gene test comes back positive, because I would automatically get a double mastectomy anyway, so don't waste time and testing and money with another biopsy. Now, if my genetic testing comes back negative, I have a lot of shit to think about....
I go back upstairs and meet with Dr. Gray again, and he tells me the same thing. He said the radiologist is just not comfortable giving the the all's clear on my right boob, and so they want a biopsy on that boob. He said he also spoke to Dr. Bash (plastic surgeon), and he knows I may be interested in a double mastectomy, which would make the biopsy unnecessary and that we also are still waiting for the genetic testing. I also still have the MRI scheduled at CTCA on the 3rd that would be cancelled if I got the double mastectomy, because the MRI was ordered for concern over my right boob too and other lumps in my left. All I kept thinking in my head is this is what I will have to keep dealing with and will be a constant in my future as long as I have my boobs, I will have to have radiation, 5 years of some medication that only lowers my risk (no guarantee), low dose radiation exposure for annual mammograms, and never having any certainty-- risking going through this process from square one all over again. I cannot see a reason why I would want to save and keep my breasts-- I will be physically deformed either way and mentally uncertain forever if I keep my breast and for what? I just want them to take both out. I want to be done with it. I feel almost guilty if I don't experience radiation and multiple surgeries and mammograms, like I don't deserve to say I have breast cancer- like it's the cheater way out-- like I will be judged-- BUT guess what? It's MY LIFE. This is my cancer, and I don't want to keep it or let it control so much more of my life-- more than it already has. Cut the shit out! I don't understand why I would have a lumpectomy. I feel like I'm missing something. It seems too easy. Take out my boobs and build me fake ones. No radiation, no future concerns about breast cancer, no Tamoxifen, so I can get pregnant if I wanted in the next 5 years. Easy enough. But it's really not. It's not like I'm just getting regular breast implants, my boobs are being removed-- it will just be the implant so it will be different. It will never be my boob and I will never feel them, breast feed, or be without scars. It sucks. But it sucks less, and I am entitled to chose an option that sucks less. Nobody is living my life but me, and I don't want to waste anymore of it over breast cancer. I risk lymphodema, but I risk it anyway in the future if it did spread. Federal law protects me having insurance cover the reconstruction of both breasts even though the other has not been diagnosed with cancer (lucky me, the doctors are saying I might have cancer in both any damn way- but why bother wasting time, money and resources to confirm when I can just have it removed). I'm still trying to understand why I would NOT have a double mastectomy. I keep feeling like I'm missing something. So I want to use my weekend to think about all this and weigh my options. I'm EXHAUSTED. But I still have to get my boobs photographed in case I choose mastectomy and get reconstruction. Finally, like five minutes to 5pm, the photographer finally sees me. I take off my top and stand in what seems to be a photo studio with professional lights and everything. They had told me earlier that a female photographer was not available and it would be a man, but I could reschedule if I was not comfortable. I was like, I want everything done with today. So here I was with a man in this freezing room topless as he takes my pictures. I was told my head would be cropped off. I thought he would take pictures without my head, but he was taking complete pictures that he said would later be cropped. FML. I now have topless pictures of me in my Mayo file-- WTF?! By this time, I just want it all done. I don't give a shit anymore. I'm freezing, hungry and EXHAUSTED and just want to go home.
It is finally over. Everybody has closed and headed home. When I arrived this morning, the parking lots were full; when I left, it was almost empty. It has been a LONG LONG day. I'm tired and confused. I decide to think about it all this weekend and make a choice Monday.
“We must find time to stop and thank the people who make a difference in our lives.”
― John F. Kennedy
A big day for me and one of my bosses hit his big 50 today! I won't call him out, but in case you're reading this- sorry I didn't send you birthday greetings this day, so happy belated birthday! You are an awesome boss! Thank you for all your support!
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“Choices are funny things-ask a native tribe that's eaten grubs and roots forever if they're unhappy, and they'll shrug. But give them filet mignon and truffle sauce and then ask them to go back to living off the land, and they will always be thinking of that gourmet meal. If you don't know there's an alternative, you can't miss it.”
― Jodi Picoult, Handle With Care
Ugh! Let's just say today I got a sample taste of that gourmet meal (Mayo Clinic options). One would think this is awesome, but I'm left feeling overwhelmed, confused, and numb. I'm not sad- I cried very little today compared to last week, I think I'm just tired and seriously conflicted. Let me rewind to how it all started...
I was determined, or so I thought... I'm going to make sure I "wake up and pay attention!" (when you read that quote, you should be singing it like in the movie Sister Act) I woke up and I was early! My gas tank was empty (light had been glowing the night before, but I was super exhausted from working late, I did not bother to fill up), so after I got ready, I drove first to the gas station and filled up my tank. I made sure to fill it to a total that had the number 3 in it. Three for some reason has become my good luck number and I finally hit it after almost over-filling my tank. I was so happy I hit number 13, I knew today was off to a good start.
My schedule said I had to check in at 8:45am. I was there by 8:30am-- great start! I get in the "check-in" line and the lady hands me some forms to complete and says my appointment is at 9:45 am since I had handled most of the paperwork over the telephone a couple of weeks ago already. I was excited I was not late, so I asked where the cafeteria was so I could feed my greedy belly. She said she already checked me in, so because they know I'm there, they might call me anytime, so I shouldn't leave. She said I could go to the cafeteria and come back but let her know. I decided that was too complicated, and would just kill time completing the forms and checking in on facebook (of course- lol!).
This campus of the Mayo clinic is familiar as I had brought my mom here for her appointments a few years ago, so I was not surprised. It does NOT have that gross hospital feeling to it, but rather a hotel and airport type feeling. It is a very nice facility, except that the elevators smell like fruit bat (fanihi for all my chamorro peoples), skunk for my fellow mid-westerners, and skunk marijuana (for all my non-fellow pot heads-lol!). I did not realize every elevator smelled this way until I had to take them throughout the day. That said, I was completely horrified when I first went in the elevator to go to the 3rd floor where the breast clinic is located, and it stopped on the second floor where I was the only person in the elevator and another person entered. I couldn't help but think, "Damn! this man must think I stunk up this elevator." I wanted to say, "just FYI this elevator smelled this way before I got on." But I didn't. Although, I should have. lol!
The airport part is there are two lines, one for "check in" and the other I think was for "scheduling." You get in line and wait as if you're about to check-in at an airport, except now it has become a bank, because the people are sitting in bank teller like booths. They are all very friendly and quite fast to help you. After I checked in and killed time on facebook on my phone and completing the check in forms, I am finally called. I am led by a very nice lady name Jane ( I remember because my boss just had a beautiful baby she named Lola Jane), who seems more genuinely heart broken about my cancer than I am. She leads me to the back and takes my weight and height. Today I am 120 pounds. It turns out they also take weight by KG and convert to LBS-- (must be a medical thing). I have lost weight during this process, but not because I'm getting skinnier, but because I swear I must have lost muscle since I stopped my insane Insanity routine, ugh! I digress (blame the tequila- I might regret this post later- tequila and internet blogging doesn't sound very smart- whatever! It's MY journal!).
Jane leads me to an examination room that looks like an office too. I try to make light and joke about my cancer, and she kind of laughs with me and then makes sure she says she's not making light of my situation. I know this and remind her it's OK. She really was sad for me. I felt bad for her. She leaves and another lady came in, a nurse. She's younger, eight months pregnant and beautiful. I like her and she laughs at all my jokes, genuinely! lol! I find out she's expecting her first child, a son, on October 29, which makes me think of my boss's wife due on the 31st and my friend from 7th grade due on the 30th-- plenty babies this year. She's super sweet and helpful. She holds this white binder and shows me with excitement telling me that it is mine to keep! I'm thinking that my probably genuine leather giveaway from CTCA is way more impressive than this, but didn't want to break her excitement so I pretend it's exciting for me too- lol! The binder also has slots with business cards inserted- just like CTCA! I'm so bad- lol! I take the binder and continue chatting with this lovely young nurse. She explains to me that I will be meeting Dr. Gray who is the surgical oncologist. She says how great his is. I ask her if he's the one who will be cutting me if I select Mayo, and she confirms. I said good because I want to meet who potentially will be the one cutting me. She then tells me that he has a resident assistant with him, and asks whether that's OK with me. I laugh and say of course, just my luck, like CTCA, they also had a "shadow" doctor in training. I told her so there would be three people watching as they examine my boobs, the two male doctors and a female nurse. To my surprise, she says that they don't have to have a female nurse in the room, unless the patient wants it, and that they usually ask the patient's preference. I tell her I don't care either way, and it's fine if there's no female in the room, and I'm OK with the resident assistant coming in with my surgeon. She hands me the hospital gown and instructs me yo undress from the waist up and open side on the front (same routine and I laugh again as I remember my first CTCA visit with leaving the back open- I share this humiliating story with the nurse and we laugh together).
She leaves and I get changed and wait for the doctors to come in. To my surprise just the resident surgeon comes in alone. He's not wearing the typical white lab coat. Nope. He is instead dressed in a suit (like a corporate business man or attorney). He is tall, young looking and slender. He reminds me of a character from a sitcom-- like the guy from the Big Bang Theory on CBS, Sheldon. He's very scientific and has some of that demeanor that Sheldon character has. An eccentric character, but one that I liked. He asks me all the same questions I have been asked over and over through this process, and then he says he will examine me. I must admit that even though I had that discussion with the nurse earlier, I was surprised that he was going to examine me with nobody else in the room. I had expected at least the main surgeon would be in the room too. He had me lay down and then begins to feel and examine both my breasts. He uses his fingers and begins walking them around each boob. He's very thorough and notes the lumpiness. It's done and I get back up. Now, I don't recall whether he leaves and then comes back with the main surgeon or whether the main surgeon just comes in after. Looking back, I'm pretty sure he leaves to get the surgeon and then they both come back in together.
The main surgeon (the one who would be cutting me), Dr. Gray, is also dressed in a corporate suit. I notice he has a light pink neck tie and I like that (since having breast cancer, I've become a big fan of pink). He is also tall and slender, but not as slender as the resident surgeon. He looks older than the resident, but still not old- he looks like he could still be in his 40's. They both have wedding bands, and for some strange reason this comforts me- weird but true. They had asked earlier about my profession, and he tells me he is partial to lawyers, because his wife is an attorney. We discuss my case and diagnosis, and he brings up facts and options that I had not heard about from CTCA. He said if he did the lumpectomy, he would not do the sentinel node biopsy unless after the lumpectomy if it shows some invasive cancer, then he would do the biopsy on the lymph node. I asked why, and he said the biopsy on the lymph node risks causing lymphodema which is a life long condition- uncurable. He would not risk that unless necessary. It is pain and swelling of the arm for life. If, however, I opted for a mastectomy, he would have to do the sentinel node biopsy, because you cannot do it after a mastectomy (can't go backwards). It apparently involves putting radioactive ink in something that leads to whatever node they need to biopsy, and if the breast is removed, they cannot do this. So with a mastectomy, I risk lymphodema in that arm- with a double mastectomy, I risk it in both arms. A condition for life. FML. He also said that their radiologist wanted to order another mammogram on my right breast, because they noticed something that is not so clear in my original mammogram films. We discussed waiting for my genetic testing results and also the ordered MRI by CTCA. He said he agreed with the timing of the MRI and CTCA's recommendation there as he also would have ordered one out of concern for my right breast too. The end of it all, he asked whether I wanted to get everything done in one day or as much as I could today and then anything we couldn't do today on another day. I told him I took the whole day off, and so I wanted to get as much done as I could today. He said he would go check the other doctors and see what I could get done today. I walk out and wait in another area where they make a new schedule for me. He was able to get everything in for today. Thank God!
The next thing on my schedule is in an hour and a half at 12:30pm. It's with the plastic surgeon in case I decide to get a mastectomy, this doctor would do the reconstructive surgery with an implant or other piece of my body type surgery. I realize my schedule is full for the day, so I had better grab something from the cafeteria and feed my belly. I take the skunk smelling elevator to the cafeteria level. I am disappointed, because CTCA had spoiled me with their lovely dining room set-up and especially their ridiculously cheap cancer patient discount! Mayo was nothing special, and not cheap. I paid over $7 for my meal, and the set-up was crowded with lots of sick people.
OMG! When I heard a cough, I wanted to stop breathing! All I kept thinking about is the people here are sick with potentially EVERYTHING, not just cancer! OMG! That person might have tuberculosis, I better not breathe! lol! I get this germaphobia from my father. At CTCA, you know nobody is contagious-- the beauty of cancer :) ha!ha! God only knows what's roaming the halls and cafeteria of Mayo- just sayin... *sigh* I finally get through lunch and head to meet with the plastic surgeon.
To my pleasant surprise, YES! FINALLY, a female doctor! And I love her too! She is AMAZING! She would be the plastic surgeon that would do my breast reconstruction if I got a mastectomy. She shows me the silicone and the saline implants. We discussed in detail these option, risks etc. She then informs me that getting a double mastectomy is also an option for me to keep my breast balanced and as similar as possible and not have to worry in the future about my right breast if I only had a mastectomy on the left. It was peace of mind she was offering. I had no idea that federal law required insurance to cover reconstructive surgery for both breasts even with my diagnosis. Also, if my diagnosis proved to remain noninvasive and far from the nipple, the mastectomy could be done sparing my nipple. Normal mastectomy removes all the breast, skin and nipple included! That's a much more difficult thing for me to handle thinking about. Now, they might be able to save my nipple and just remove my breast-- although I would still not have any feeling of my breast, it seems oddly comforting knowing I would be able to skip nipple tattooing and reconstruction after the surgery. The more we talked about everything, I kept asking the doctor, "why wouldn't I have a mastectomy?" I still cannot understand why I would opt for a lumpectomy after everything we discussed and all that I learned. I forgot to mention that in the consult earlier with the surgical oncologist Dr. Gray, he said if I did the mastectomy, I would NOT need radiation. Now if I did a double mastectomy, not only would I not bother with radiation, I would not bother with 5 years of tamoxifen! How wonderful is that! Downside is it's a major surgery and will require more healing time and an overnight hospital stay. But without having the have 6 weeks of radiation after, it seems like the lumpectomy is still more intrusive. The plastic surgeon, Dr, Bash, was absolutely AMAZING! When we ended, she gave me a hug and was so comforting and understanding and thorough, I knew I trusted her. Additionally, she and Dr. Gray have worked together before doing the same procedure. If I opted for this, Dr. Gray would remove my breast and she would start reconstruction immediately as he began removing the next breast. They know each other, work together and have done this before. I trust them both.
This appointment took longer than was scheduled for as I had another appointment with radiation in the next hour. They were setting up that I go get photographs of my breast taken in case I decide to get the procedure done, but I pointed out I was already over ten minutes late for my radiation appointment. They send me off to my radiation appointment and give me a slip to get the photo's taken after my other appointments. I rush out and walk over to the other end where there is a separate check-in for radiation.
At the radiation/oncology consult, I am first seen my a nurse who is very nice and helpful and then she mentions my father being dead so young. I told her my father is alive and very healthy, that was my uncle, his brother that had died from lung cancer. Apparently, now Mayo thinks it's my father that is dead and not my father's brother (my uncle)-- sorry dad!! lol! Thankfully, this is an error on whoever input the information from my medical records re family cancer history. They still have it in their record but I had her correct it. The radiation oncologist is also an Asian man (like CTCA- now I forever have the stereotype that radiation oncologists must be Asian- lol!), Mr. Wong. His nurse gave me the heads up that he will be overly informative and tell me all the risks, but that she has rarely ever seen any of the risks actually occur. Mr. Wong enters and we discuss in detail all about radiation treatment after surgery. Apparently, some of the risks include very minimal risk of cancer caused by radiation (ironic). Then sometimes the radiation can affect the lungs and I would get a cough that would be treated with prednisone. Also, since it's my left breast, my heart is right there, there's a risk of future heart problems, but that's why they don't shoot the radiation straight from the front back, but more slanted from the side to try to avoid exposure to the heart and lungs. Also, ribs might be more sensitive and prone to fracturing. And then after radiation, I have to be on tomaxifen for 5 years, prohibiting me from having children until after 5 years, and also would still not guarantee no reoccurence, but only reduce the percentage chance of reoccurence. If I opted for the lumpectomy and radiation for six weeks after surgery has healed, I have to go drive for radiation treatments 5 days a week for 6 weeks, and these are only the possible side effects and not the other unknown side effects of how radiation would affect-- if I would be more lethargic or tired etc. It just felt so extremely dragged out and never ending. Don't get me wrong, I am glad I don't have to have chemo as I can only imagine all the effects of that, but radiation is not a joke either. People stay away from radiation for a reason. Dr. Gray said the radiation oncologist explained it this way, "low doses of radiation cause cancer, but high doses kill cancer." Let's think about this. I'm ordered another mammogram today which would make my exposure twice in less than 2 months, and then for the rest of my life every year I would need little doses of radiation exposure for mammograms on my breasts since I am now high risk. WTH?!?! It's a never fucken ending story/cycle I am foreseeing here. I am no longer comfortable with radiation therapy. Dr. Wong was also very amazing. He was very scientific and informative, which I found very helpful. As soon as this is done, I run to my next appointment, which is another mammogram on my right breast. Yippie! radiation exposure. :(
I get to the lower level where the mammograms are done. No cell phone service. I check in and wait to be called. They call me and a lady walks me to a dressing room and hands me a half gown type top that has arms (no christmas tree skirt here). This time she instructs me to change into this from waist up and leave all my belongings in the dressing room. When I'm done, there's a key to the door that I take and wrap the band on my wrist after locking my room. I go into a second waiting room where another older lady is waiting in the same hospital gown top. They have free coffee, orange juice, water and apple juice and crackers as we wait. They have a TV on and I think HGTV is on and magazines. I take a seat and grab a magazine and watch TV. I try to make conversation with the other lady in the room, but she's not interested. Poor me- lol! I crack the silence by jokingly telling her- "Hey, we have the same top on!" She was polite back to me, but that was it- back to the silence we go. A few other women come and sit and still everyone is so unfriendly. I'm still the youngest looking one in the gown, as usual.
Finally, a woman who is lanky and tall and gray haired, looks like she has to be in her 70's or even 80's comes out slightly hunched back and calls my name. She makes me think she could be a character from a cartoon-- the old emotionless bored disinterested villain's assistant. She's as exciting and enthused as her appearance. She wasn't the short haired blond I had at my first mammogram, but she does bear hug me from behind too. She leads me to the mammogram room, which is freezing. There's a computer and the mammogram machine. She hands me this heavy padded like x-ray type thing to tie around my waist (velcrow belted). I think it strange that the other mammogram place didn't make me wear this and wonder now whether my lower body was not protected at the other mammogram place (crap! low dose radiation causes cancer, remember). Anyway, she tries to take an image of my right boob after placing me in the machine. She's frustrated and gives me this face as she cannot get an image. She re-positions me and tells me to keep my head up, and not look down at what she's trying to do with my boob, because my body position changes. As she leaves me trapped in this machine, she goes to the computer and each time says "Don't breathe." I already was naturally holding my breath as she told me not to move, so I was probably turning blue by then. She's not happy about the images, and resets the machine with other parts and takes more images. She then instructs me she will show them to the doctor, so I should go back to the waiting room, but do not leave yet. She kept telling me I cannot leave yet. I told her ok and went back to the waiting room where other older women continue to ignore each other as we wait in the same half gowns. I decide I want to get coffee while I'm waiting-- it's past 3:30pm at this point- coffee is cold and disgusting-- I threw it away and ate graham crackers. I was tired.
Finally, another person calls me and she leads me to a room where the radiologist comes to meet me. We introduce each other, and he begins to tell me that he is not comfortable saying my right breast does not have cancer or that it does. He said if i was an older woman with the same mammogram, he probably would not be concerned about the calcifications in my right breast, but because I'm young (tend to me more aggresive cancers), and I have DCIS in my left breast, he cannot say it is not cancer in my right breast, and therefore would like to order a biopsy on my right breast. FML. REALLY? ugh! I'm sooo over my boobs by this point. He said he spoke to Dr. Gray and that Dr. Gray said I can go back to him right now to discuss this with him. I thanked him and told him I would go speak to Dr. Gray. I also said depending on my genetic testing, this may all be moot if my gene test comes back positive, because I would automatically get a double mastectomy anyway, so don't waste time and testing and money with another biopsy. Now, if my genetic testing comes back negative, I have a lot of shit to think about....
I go back upstairs and meet with Dr. Gray again, and he tells me the same thing. He said the radiologist is just not comfortable giving the the all's clear on my right boob, and so they want a biopsy on that boob. He said he also spoke to Dr. Bash (plastic surgeon), and he knows I may be interested in a double mastectomy, which would make the biopsy unnecessary and that we also are still waiting for the genetic testing. I also still have the MRI scheduled at CTCA on the 3rd that would be cancelled if I got the double mastectomy, because the MRI was ordered for concern over my right boob too and other lumps in my left. All I kept thinking in my head is this is what I will have to keep dealing with and will be a constant in my future as long as I have my boobs, I will have to have radiation, 5 years of some medication that only lowers my risk (no guarantee), low dose radiation exposure for annual mammograms, and never having any certainty-- risking going through this process from square one all over again. I cannot see a reason why I would want to save and keep my breasts-- I will be physically deformed either way and mentally uncertain forever if I keep my breast and for what? I just want them to take both out. I want to be done with it. I feel almost guilty if I don't experience radiation and multiple surgeries and mammograms, like I don't deserve to say I have breast cancer- like it's the cheater way out-- like I will be judged-- BUT guess what? It's MY LIFE. This is my cancer, and I don't want to keep it or let it control so much more of my life-- more than it already has. Cut the shit out! I don't understand why I would have a lumpectomy. I feel like I'm missing something. It seems too easy. Take out my boobs and build me fake ones. No radiation, no future concerns about breast cancer, no Tamoxifen, so I can get pregnant if I wanted in the next 5 years. Easy enough. But it's really not. It's not like I'm just getting regular breast implants, my boobs are being removed-- it will just be the implant so it will be different. It will never be my boob and I will never feel them, breast feed, or be without scars. It sucks. But it sucks less, and I am entitled to chose an option that sucks less. Nobody is living my life but me, and I don't want to waste anymore of it over breast cancer. I risk lymphodema, but I risk it anyway in the future if it did spread. Federal law protects me having insurance cover the reconstruction of both breasts even though the other has not been diagnosed with cancer (lucky me, the doctors are saying I might have cancer in both any damn way- but why bother wasting time, money and resources to confirm when I can just have it removed). I'm still trying to understand why I would NOT have a double mastectomy. I keep feeling like I'm missing something. So I want to use my weekend to think about all this and weigh my options. I'm EXHAUSTED. But I still have to get my boobs photographed in case I choose mastectomy and get reconstruction. Finally, like five minutes to 5pm, the photographer finally sees me. I take off my top and stand in what seems to be a photo studio with professional lights and everything. They had told me earlier that a female photographer was not available and it would be a man, but I could reschedule if I was not comfortable. I was like, I want everything done with today. So here I was with a man in this freezing room topless as he takes my pictures. I was told my head would be cropped off. I thought he would take pictures without my head, but he was taking complete pictures that he said would later be cropped. FML. I now have topless pictures of me in my Mayo file-- WTF?! By this time, I just want it all done. I don't give a shit anymore. I'm freezing, hungry and EXHAUSTED and just want to go home.
It is finally over. Everybody has closed and headed home. When I arrived this morning, the parking lots were full; when I left, it was almost empty. It has been a LONG LONG day. I'm tired and confused. I decide to think about it all this weekend and make a choice Monday.
“We don't get to
chose what is true. We only get to choose what we do about it.”
― Kami Garcia
It's going to be a long week...
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
9/26/2012- I am not an X-Man! Margarita time ;)
I was anxiously awaiting my genetic testing results yesterday, but no phone call came.... I finally called today, and my results were in. I do NOT have the mutation in my gene that would have made me more prone to ovarian cancer etc. It looks like the ovaries are staying put, and I only need to worry about the boobies. I'm celebrating by having some tequila (Margarita on the rocks!) as I prepare my next journal entry detailing my LONG LONG day yesterday at Mayo clinic.
Results of genetic test:
Test Results and Interpretation
NO MUTATION DETECTED
I wish I could say the same for my brain and humor. But then again, I like being a little mentally mutated; normal people scare me ;) Just sayin...
“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”
― Epicurus
Yay for regular breast cancer and not hereditary genetic cancer!
AMEN!
Thanks mom and dad, my genes are legit! buwahahaha!!!
Test Results and Interpretation
NO MUTATION DETECTED
I wish I could say the same for my brain and humor. But then again, I like being a little mentally mutated; normal people scare me ;) Just sayin...
“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”
― Epicurus
Yay for regular breast cancer and not hereditary genetic cancer!
AMEN!
Thanks mom and dad, my genes are legit! buwahahaha!!!
Monday, September 24, 2012
A Letter to My Cancer
Love this! Thanks to those who shared with me...
A Letter to My Cancer
by Ginger Johnson
Founder, HappyChemo.com
It may seem like you have control in my life right now,
but you really don't.
Your presence only makes me stronger, braver, kinder, wiser.
I choose how I think, what I speak and how I love.
You will never be able to touch those things.
Never.
The fear of your name no longer haunts my soul
because I know that my soul belongs to me and to God.
You make take your claim on this frail outer shell
but never on my driving spirit that cries out,
"I am not my body."
My soul will run, leap and tower over your attempts
to pull me down into despair.
Those who surround me will fight with me
to let it be known that we will not surrender.
Our hearts and souls are tied together in a lasting bond
that no amount of your impeding growth can break.
You, cancer, you do NOT own me.
I own myself.
And I will survive.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
9/1/2012 Prequel: telling my parents
September 1, 2012 - Saturday
It has been three days since my biopsy, which means, it has been three days since I washed my hair. This is because I cannot get the biopsy site wet or risk infection. I'm a freak about this, because I know sepsis would kill me faster than any cancer, so I need to make sure I don't get my incision wet and stick to the sponge baths for now. That said, I cannot stand having stinky head. I need to find a way to wash my hair, and cheap too.
I decide to go to the mall, and have my hair washed at supercuts or mastercuts, whatever is there that must be cheaper than some fufu salon in Scottsdale. I make my way to the mall, careful still not to lift anything heavy with my left arm as my incision is still healing. My mom calls me as I'm at the mall. I tell her I'm at the mall, and she gives me all the depressing island updates. *sigh* The economy and everyone is just suffering and struggling- always makes me sad. I get off the phone with her, and text my cousins that I did it! I spoke to my mom and I did NOT tell her about maybe having cancer and my biopsy. That was hard.
Later that night I felt guilty about not telling my parents, and I figured I have three more days not a few weeks before the results come out, so it wouldn't be so bad for them to know now. I called my mom back that night. I begin telling her I have something that I had been hiding from her and dad that I need to tell her. She immediately responded, "You're pregnant!" I immediately laugh, and respond, "No, but I wish!" ha!ha! I tell her I wish I was pregnant, but no, my news is I might have breast cancer. My memory is blurry from here. I feel the short silence, and her worry. I just continue that I'm healing now from a biopsy I had a few days ago, and I will get my results on Tuesday. I let her know that I didn't want to say anything until I received the results, but I felt guilty speaking to her earlier and not telling her what I have been going through. I let her know I was at the mall getting my hair washed, because I couldn't do it myself. I don't remember whether we talked about anything else or whether I spoke to my dad that night. I remember promising to let her know as soon as I found out on Tuesday (which would be their Wednesday). I said I would email her, but for sure I would get the results then. She said OK, and that was it.
I hung up and texted my cousins that my parents know, so no more secrets from the family if they wanted to share. I also shared how funny it was that my mom thought I was going to report being pregnant. I'm a 33 year old independent woman, why would I hide that? lol! We will always be children in our parents eyes. I just have to get through two more days until I get an answer.... this time EVERYONE is waiting with me.....
It has been three days since my biopsy, which means, it has been three days since I washed my hair. This is because I cannot get the biopsy site wet or risk infection. I'm a freak about this, because I know sepsis would kill me faster than any cancer, so I need to make sure I don't get my incision wet and stick to the sponge baths for now. That said, I cannot stand having stinky head. I need to find a way to wash my hair, and cheap too.
I decide to go to the mall, and have my hair washed at supercuts or mastercuts, whatever is there that must be cheaper than some fufu salon in Scottsdale. I make my way to the mall, careful still not to lift anything heavy with my left arm as my incision is still healing. My mom calls me as I'm at the mall. I tell her I'm at the mall, and she gives me all the depressing island updates. *sigh* The economy and everyone is just suffering and struggling- always makes me sad. I get off the phone with her, and text my cousins that I did it! I spoke to my mom and I did NOT tell her about maybe having cancer and my biopsy. That was hard.
Later that night I felt guilty about not telling my parents, and I figured I have three more days not a few weeks before the results come out, so it wouldn't be so bad for them to know now. I called my mom back that night. I begin telling her I have something that I had been hiding from her and dad that I need to tell her. She immediately responded, "You're pregnant!" I immediately laugh, and respond, "No, but I wish!" ha!ha! I tell her I wish I was pregnant, but no, my news is I might have breast cancer. My memory is blurry from here. I feel the short silence, and her worry. I just continue that I'm healing now from a biopsy I had a few days ago, and I will get my results on Tuesday. I let her know that I didn't want to say anything until I received the results, but I felt guilty speaking to her earlier and not telling her what I have been going through. I let her know I was at the mall getting my hair washed, because I couldn't do it myself. I don't remember whether we talked about anything else or whether I spoke to my dad that night. I remember promising to let her know as soon as I found out on Tuesday (which would be their Wednesday). I said I would email her, but for sure I would get the results then. She said OK, and that was it.
I hung up and texted my cousins that my parents know, so no more secrets from the family if they wanted to share. I also shared how funny it was that my mom thought I was going to report being pregnant. I'm a 33 year old independent woman, why would I hide that? lol! We will always be children in our parents eyes. I just have to get through two more days until I get an answer.... this time EVERYONE is waiting with me.....
8/31/2012 Prequel: Labor day weekend delay...
August 31, 2012- Friday
"How much of human life is lost in waiting." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
I woke up today anxious, but ready for results. Tell me already dammit! Do I have cancer? ugh! This has been the LONGEST sixteen days. Ever. I gave in and told my biggest boss the Tuesday before my biopsy what was going on. He had asked me earlier if everything was OK as he sensed something was going on, (although he did say this is the best he has ever seen me - the haircut and Insanity workouts have me looking and feeling the best I have ever felt- kind of ironic- lol!). He was very supportive, and I promised to keep him in the loop. Now, everyone is waiting with me (except I've been able to spare my parents, so far...). Torture.
At the same time, termites have again invaded my house. I had made an appointment to meet the exterminator, and as they called 20 minutes ahead of time to get me some time to make it home, I also get a call from the doctor as I am IN THE ELEVATOR! CRAP! Really! This is happening.
Before I lose complete reception, the doctor tells me that he called the pathologist, and confirmed that I will not have my results today AND since Monday is a holiday, I will not received my results until Tuesday. *sigh* Just when I thought it would all be over, the agony is prolonged....
"How much of human life is lost in waiting." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
I woke up today anxious, but ready for results. Tell me already dammit! Do I have cancer? ugh! This has been the LONGEST sixteen days. Ever. I gave in and told my biggest boss the Tuesday before my biopsy what was going on. He had asked me earlier if everything was OK as he sensed something was going on, (although he did say this is the best he has ever seen me - the haircut and Insanity workouts have me looking and feeling the best I have ever felt- kind of ironic- lol!). He was very supportive, and I promised to keep him in the loop. Now, everyone is waiting with me (except I've been able to spare my parents, so far...). Torture.
At the same time, termites have again invaded my house. I had made an appointment to meet the exterminator, and as they called 20 minutes ahead of time to get me some time to make it home, I also get a call from the doctor as I am IN THE ELEVATOR! CRAP! Really! This is happening.
Before I lose complete reception, the doctor tells me that he called the pathologist, and confirmed that I will not have my results today AND since Monday is a holiday, I will not received my results until Tuesday. *sigh* Just when I thought it would all be over, the agony is prolonged....
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