So I am scheduled to start chemo the second week of November. I'm hoping to do it on Thursday afternoon so if am going to get sick, I can do it over the weekend and not have to use all my sick and annual leave. I'm going to try to save some of that for Christmas. Although, the nurses told me that they are getting better and better at preventing nausea so it may not be that bad at all. They did however tell me to be sure to not tell my husband that. I guess they figure that if you have Cancer, you should have the right to milk it just a little bit. I think I can do that. After all, after Neil's brain surgery, it was really quite fun to see the reactions we got when he milked his condition. Okay, maybe I milked it for him. When we built the town home I got the agent to throw in a free upgrade of a banister and handrailing because "My husband recently had brain surgery and sometimes really has difficulty keeping his balance. I'm really concerned about him falling down the stairs." Which was true.... at the time. There was no deception involved. So, anyway, the point being that I'm sure I can find a few ways to milk the situation.
So here's my funny story for the day. I asked my nurse why this 4.5 cm tumor didn't show up on the mammogram I had back in January. I was a little freaked out thinking that I had this super fast growing cancer. Well, apparently mammograms aren't quite as dependable as I thought. If you have particularly dense breast tissue, which I guess I do, the tumor is often hidden and can frequently be missed in a mammogram. Then she tells me that she and a couple of the surgeons on staff were discussing this very thing earlier while reviewing both the mammogram films and one of the surgeons (reffering to the density of the breast tissue) said, "Oh yeah. You could hide a Buick in there."
Now honestly. I had to take issue with that. You all know as well as I do that in the boob department, I have never been Buick material. A Volkswagon Bug, maybe, but not a Buick.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Rock and Roll
Well here goes. I'm starting a blog. Something I was sure I'd never do. But my recent diagnosis of Breast Cancer changed all that. I'm hoping I will be able to achieve three things with this blog. First, keep friends and family informed on how I'm doing. I don't think I will be able to keep up via email and telephone calls. Two, provide myself an emotional outlet. I'm hoping an occasional hysterical scream into the void of cyberspace will help me keep from taking out my frustrations on my family and coworkers. And finally, to hopefully provide a little hope and humor to those who may be experiencing the same thing.
After recieving the diagnosis, three days ago, October 25, 2010, I allowed myself a brief meltdown and then started figuring out what I needed to do next. I was referred to a general surgeon by my rheumatologist, who is treating me for another condition. That was the first step in meeting with several surgeons, an oncologist, several radiologists and many others who performed MRIs, biopsies, ultrasounds, etc. I have been amazed at how lucky I have been to have found some of the most incredible doctors. Today when I met with my oncologist to discuss my treatment schedule, I was introduced to about 6 different people, almost all of whom gave me a hug upon introduction and then ALL sat with me in this tiny examining room for a two hour discussion about my cancer and treatment options. They were my nurses, surgeons, radiologists, social workers, etc. They were introduced as my "support team."
I've realized over the last couple of days that I have a choice. I can either fall apart and shift the burden of my illness on those around me because I have chosen not to cope with the situation. Or, I can take a proactive, positive approach and do whatever it takes to get better. One of the radiologists I met with today kind of summed up my current feelings on the matter and I think I'm going to use it as my motto. He was about the 57th stranger I'd stripped down for in a 3 hour period. (Really, it was borderline ridiculous. I used to be almost painfully modest, but after today, I honestly think I could whip the girls out for just about any stranger and it wouldn't even phase me. I told Neil that and his response was, "Well there's something every husband would be proud of.") Anyway, radiologist guy was doing an ultrasound of my heart to make sure it was strong enough to handle chemotherapy. He talked to me a little about my condition and when he finished, he turned to me just before he left and said, "Kick its ass." I'm going to repeat that to myself everytime I'm shoved into an MRI machine, poked with what I'm sure are 4 inch needles in the most unusual places, cut open, injected with radioactive chemicals and asked to stand half naked in a room full of strangers.
But it's not all bad. Neil and I sat down the other night and came up with a list of perks to having Breast Cancer. We came up with the following.
1) Free massage and acupuncture treatments for both Neil and I at the Cancer Wellness House downtown for the rest of our lives.....
2) I always felt like I'd spent too much money on that stupid wig I bought the first time my hair fell out. Now I'll get my money's worth.
3) I'll save money on hair care products.
4) My hair only partially fell out last time. When it started growing back, the new hair was curly, but the old hair was still straight, which made for some very interesting hair dos. This time it will all fall out so it will all be curly. This will make for a much easier morning hair routine.
5) My friend Chris told me that she lost 15 pounds during her chemo. Woohoo!
6) When they do reconstruction surgery, they take lumps of fat from other parts of your body. (Double woohoo!!) I've already selected my area of choice. It's a new chunk come to me courtesy of 12 months of steroid treatment.
7) With only a couple of accessories (scarf and eye patch), I can tell people I'm studying to be a pirate. That should do for some entertaining water cooler conversations
So there you have it. I've got all my doctors in place. My chemotherapy is scheduled with surgery and radiation planned afterwards. Here we go. Bring it on. Or in the words of one of my nurses, and now one of my new best friends, "Rock and Roll."
After recieving the diagnosis, three days ago, October 25, 2010, I allowed myself a brief meltdown and then started figuring out what I needed to do next. I was referred to a general surgeon by my rheumatologist, who is treating me for another condition. That was the first step in meeting with several surgeons, an oncologist, several radiologists and many others who performed MRIs, biopsies, ultrasounds, etc. I have been amazed at how lucky I have been to have found some of the most incredible doctors. Today when I met with my oncologist to discuss my treatment schedule, I was introduced to about 6 different people, almost all of whom gave me a hug upon introduction and then ALL sat with me in this tiny examining room for a two hour discussion about my cancer and treatment options. They were my nurses, surgeons, radiologists, social workers, etc. They were introduced as my "support team."
I've realized over the last couple of days that I have a choice. I can either fall apart and shift the burden of my illness on those around me because I have chosen not to cope with the situation. Or, I can take a proactive, positive approach and do whatever it takes to get better. One of the radiologists I met with today kind of summed up my current feelings on the matter and I think I'm going to use it as my motto. He was about the 57th stranger I'd stripped down for in a 3 hour period. (Really, it was borderline ridiculous. I used to be almost painfully modest, but after today, I honestly think I could whip the girls out for just about any stranger and it wouldn't even phase me. I told Neil that and his response was, "Well there's something every husband would be proud of.") Anyway, radiologist guy was doing an ultrasound of my heart to make sure it was strong enough to handle chemotherapy. He talked to me a little about my condition and when he finished, he turned to me just before he left and said, "Kick its ass." I'm going to repeat that to myself everytime I'm shoved into an MRI machine, poked with what I'm sure are 4 inch needles in the most unusual places, cut open, injected with radioactive chemicals and asked to stand half naked in a room full of strangers.
But it's not all bad. Neil and I sat down the other night and came up with a list of perks to having Breast Cancer. We came up with the following.
1) Free massage and acupuncture treatments for both Neil and I at the Cancer Wellness House downtown for the rest of our lives.....
2) I always felt like I'd spent too much money on that stupid wig I bought the first time my hair fell out. Now I'll get my money's worth.
3) I'll save money on hair care products.
4) My hair only partially fell out last time. When it started growing back, the new hair was curly, but the old hair was still straight, which made for some very interesting hair dos. This time it will all fall out so it will all be curly. This will make for a much easier morning hair routine.
5) My friend Chris told me that she lost 15 pounds during her chemo. Woohoo!
6) When they do reconstruction surgery, they take lumps of fat from other parts of your body. (Double woohoo!!) I've already selected my area of choice. It's a new chunk come to me courtesy of 12 months of steroid treatment.
7) With only a couple of accessories (scarf and eye patch), I can tell people I'm studying to be a pirate. That should do for some entertaining water cooler conversations
So there you have it. I've got all my doctors in place. My chemotherapy is scheduled with surgery and radiation planned afterwards. Here we go. Bring it on. Or in the words of one of my nurses, and now one of my new best friends, "Rock and Roll."
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