My Final Blog Post - Thanks for Reading!

A lot has happened in the past few months so thought it was time to update my blog. 

I am one minor procedure away from having a new silhouette, perkier than before, but bearing the scars of a war.  While I am very happy to be able to wear a bra and clothes and even a sports bra to run in come the new year, I suppose I will always grieve for the original breasts I no longer have.  One is, as my surgeon put it, "18 forever", and the other, although surgically lifted, will age with time.  As he said, "They're sisters, not twins."  I don't think they every truly matched anyway.  It just reiterates the saying, "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone." 

I'm so thankful to have come through cancer-free with the love and support of so many friends and family so I will continue to look to the positive side of all of this.  I'm alive.  Those who love me no longer have to take me to appointments and hold my hand through each fear-filled moment. 

Now, as I look forward, I will focus on a healthy, fitness-filled, get-back-into-shape new year.  I will also look forward to working again to have some sort of normalcy to everyday life.  To wake up with a purpose other than doctor's appointments, surgical procedures or cancer treatments is something I am getting used to and really appreciating.  Being able to change my sheets or scrub my bathtub without assistance or even grocery shop on my own are further signs of life returning to "before cancer".  While I still think of life in those terms, "before" and "after", I am determined not to have this past 16 months identify me.  It will always just be a chapter in my story like so many others. 

I have rekindled old friendships, made new ones and rejoiced in my current ones.   My friends have become friends with each other and this makes my heart happy.  We are An incredibly strong group of women (with a few of their husbands and children sprinkled in for good measure) who have supported each other through so many things over the past couple of years that it's hard to imagine my life without any one of them. 

No more cancer, no more worries about cancer, no more blogs.  So to you, my cherished friends and family, it's time to move forward into the new year with good health, happiness and a whole lot of fun!

 

Merry Christmas and a very Happy and Healthy 2013 - CHEERS!

I'm Hot...and Flaky!

This is my first blog in a while.  I have just completed five weeks of rather large doses daily radiation.  I've been saying all along, if I can get through chemotherapy I can manage radiation with no problem.  Well, as I sit here for the second day with what is referred to as "wet peeling", I realize how bad radiation truly affects a body.  My "burn" extends from the centre of my chest and wraps around under my arm to my back.  It goes from just above my breast to about an inch below.  So it's a large perfectly square area and as the radiation burns from the inside out, the next week or so should be even worse.  Then it's supposed to get better from there.  I have July "off" from treatments for this process to complete and to recover some energy.  I think August will be for my skin to ready itself for more surgery.  It's rather ironic that the weather has finally turned nice and I'm not allowed in the sun for fear of "chemical burn" of my skin.  Since I love the sun and the outdoors, this is a pretty cruel reality.

Last night, I actually stood in the shower and cried as the water ran over my chest and felt like a thousand pieces of sharp glass cutting the skin from my breast area.  My underarm feels like there's a large marble lodged under the skin but it's just a lump of skin waiting to disengage.  Yuck!  I was very grateful for Ethel coming over for a (gentle) hug and to comfort me.

I'm now applying a prescription antibiotic cream three times daily to avoid the possibility of infection.  That would just be awful and would set back my recovery time so I'll do my best so that doesn't happen.

Thank you to everyone for your kind wishes of help and for your prayers.

Spring Has Sprung...And So Has My New Breast!

After finishing my chemotherapy, something which I would not wish on anyone, I have continued to show signs of recovery from the chemicals.  While my moustache and beard are doing well, I could use a bikini wax and need to shave my legs, it's a little slower growth on my head.  My hairdresser, Michelle, refers to my new style as a "cul-de-sac"; you know the ring around the head with a bald top.  My heels are starting to heal from all the peeling which was very painful so I'm thankful for that.  If I knew how to walk on my hands that would have come in very handy during that phase.  Unfortunately, I think I'm going to lose the nail on my left big toe.  If that's the only nail I lose, however, that will be great.  The ice gloves on my hands made all the difference and I am able to wear nail polish again.  Today's shade is "spring mauve".  My skin is continuing to break out but I guess that's all the poison seeping out so it's a good thing.  Everything tastes normal now and I'm loving coffee, fruits, veggies and water - tons of water.

I have had the port surgically removed from the right side of my chest and am just waiting for the sealing glue strip to come off.  The surgeon actually cut into the same place as when they inserted it so there's only one scar from those procedures.  Now when I turn my head it doesn't feel like I'm going to disconnect a wire from the carotid artery in my neck.  Such a relief!

I've also had surgery to insert a tissue expander.  This was put into the hole where my left breast used to live.  Again, the surgeon was able to use the same incision point used for my mastectomy so one scar there as well.  My job now is to massage this area at least twice a day to move the saline from the top of my expander to the bottom where the permanent implant will go.  Today I went for a procedure and now have what would rival Arnold Schwarzenegger's pec.  Gives new meaning to the term "pump it up"!  My left breast is now situated close to my shoulder.  My right breast is much lower, of course, due to age and gravity so trying to find a bra to fit that is just not happening.  To pump up the expander, I was directed to lie on my back while the surgeon used a magnetic gizmo to locate the internal port, bring it to the surface and then put a needle through my skin.  He pumped in as much saline as my expander would take and that was it.  No pain, just pressure.  When I sat up, I could feel it all shifting and that was trippy.  I thought it was going to squirt out but I guess he knows what he's doing.  That area is apparently self-sealing.  I asked him how that works and he said, "It's magic."  Finally, a medical term I can understand!

Yesterday I saw the radiation oncologist who said once the pumping up is done she will schedule a "marking session".  I will lie on a bed and get some blue marks tattooed on my body where the lining up will occur each session.  TeeTee told the doctor she'd been trying to convince me to get a tattoo forever.  They will remove them after radiation if I want them to.  Then there was a discussion about a patient who expanded her blue dots into a bee and flower.  Not sure that's going to happen but I've learned through this process to not make quick decisions.  Once the marking has been done, I'll be given a schedule for five weeks of daily radiation therapy (excluding weekends).  Turns out she's my favourite doctor throughout this ordeal because she said I could actually have some alcohol during this portion of therapy.  So tonight, it's Bellini time with some girlfriends!  I should be a cheap date for sure.

Overall, I'm feeling pretty good.  My ongoing challenge is brain power.  I find my concentration is lacking and my recall pretty bad.  My emotions are all over the map but that's more to do with my personal life than my chemo brain.  I've said all along that the cancer may not kill me but my shattered heart just might.  I try to stay strong and positive every day, which is easier said than done, hoping for a brighter future with repaired relationships.

So onward and upward (well except my boob which needs a little downward movement).  To say thank you to all my friends who have supported me through this journey seems somehow inadequate.  You have all been amazing, consistent, loving, understanding and available.  So tonight some of us will raise a toast to a happier, healthier future.

I Am Officially Cancer-Free - Music To My Ears

No More Chemotherapy - Next Stop is Radiation Therapy and Reconstructive Surgery

Tuesday was my last chemotherapy and I am so relieved that step is behind me.  I cried from relief as I left the chemo room and one of the nurses hugged me and I cried some more, thanked her and all the chemo nurses for saving my life and being so kind and patient throughout that part of my journey.  Nurses are truly unique as they possess the same qualities as angels.  TeeTee and I hugged each other tightly and I thanked her for once again being by my side.  Knowing there is no further curative chemotherapy for me should my breast cancer metastasize, which is why I was hit with such big doses over such a concentrated period of time, I am determined not to live the rest of my life worrying about spread or recurrence.  The doctors and I are doing everything we can to make sure that doesn't happen.  Last night marked the end of the chemo drugs and I had stomach injection number 11 out of 15.  So many milestones are being shot down and I'm very happy about that. 

What I face next is reconstructive surgery.  This starts with a day surgery procedure on March 30th to insert a tissue expander, which is a fancy term for an empty bag, into the hole in my chest where my breast used to be.  Inside the expander is a port.  The surgeon will use a magnet from the outside of my breast to locate the port, it will come to the surface and it will be injected with saline through my skin and into the empty bag which will slowly stretch my skin.  Once that first step is completed, I will be able to have my original port surgically removed, the one that fed the chemotherapy into my system, and hopefully will be used for the expander surgery as well so as to avoid the anesthetist's needle going through my hand.

About six weeks after the expander is inserted, and after I heal from the surgery, I will start five weeks of daily radiation therapy (excluding weekends).  This will help to lower the chance of the cancer returning to the original tumour site in my chest wall in the future, just as chemotherapy has lowered the chance of spread to other organs.  The numbers were explained to me to be less than a 5% chance of return to the chest wall post-radiation therapy and a 24.5% chance of spread to other organs post-chemotherapy.

In approximately six months, after radiation and weekly saline injections to stretch my skin slowly, then the permanent implant is inserted, followed of course by recovery and healing time.  This will mean I will have the ability to wear normal bras and clothes rather than a prosthetic and all the complications and inconvenience that would involve.  I was warned it will be a fairly painful journey but the outcome will be worth it for the rest of my life.

The doctors are hopeful, as am I, that I may regain my concentration and be fully recovered from the chemotherapy by September.  It may take an additional three months or so to recover from the radiation and reconstructive surgery.  I can't wait to get back to normal life, work and exercising but I know I need to continue to be patient, which has always been a challenge for me.  In the meantime, I will carry on, one day at a time, hopeful that everything will go well and I will heal and get stronger every day.

I still pinch myself when I think of all the support I have received and continue to receive from so many people.  It will take me the rest of my life to pay you all back...but I plan to be here for a really long time so I'll get 'er done!

I Love You

Zero - The Number of Chemotherapy Sessions Left!

The Final Time Exiting the Chemotherapy Room!

Finally...some brief relief

I have started my second round of drugs called Docetaxel, which, unlike the previous round of drugs, does not cause nausea and I no longer smell dead people.  Instead, this drug provides side effects related to nerve pain.  For about four or five days of the first dose I experienced pain in my low back.  It felt as if I could crack my back it would feel better but of course no cracking occurred.  Then there were shooting pains down my legs into the tips of my toes that eventually made it feel as though I were walking on bruises and broken glass.  I knew I should have learned to walk on my hands when I had the chance.

The past two days I've had enough relief that I was able to go for a couple of walks, meet Lori for coffee (and sinful red velvet loaf with icing), as well as to run some errands with Ethel.  It was so nice to get out.  The furthest I'd managed before was my deck for tea.  Not quite the same thing.

The other side effect of this drug is that a lot of food does not taste the way it's supposed to.  For instance, popcorn tasted like paper - what a disappointment that was!  The past few days things have tasted so good I think I've gained ten pounds.  Fitness will definitely be a priority when this is done.

I went for my blood work this morning and it was confirmed my counts were high enough to undergo my next round of chemotherapy tomorrow.  Then I start the every-other-day stomach injections and the gross coated mouth and nerve pain will start all over again.  The oncologist and TeeTee tried to get me to agree to taking more drugs for the pain but I've decided to try to cope on my own as I just feel overdosed on drugs and would rather not take any more.  If the pain becomes too intense, of course, I'll soften my decision.

After the oncologist's appointment, TeeTee and I met the wonderful (and not-so-bald) Taylor and beautiful Susie for breakfast.  We laughed a lot and really enjoyed being together.

I feel so blessed to have the friends I do who are willing to help me through each day.  From those who just check in regularly through emails and phone calls, to those who visit and bring food and other necessities, to those who help clean my place when I just can't, to those who hold my hand through each appointment so I'm never alone, to those who are actually willing to inject my stomach so I don't have to risk getting germs from a clinic, I'm not sure "thank you" is enough but I couldn't do it without you.  Today, my dear friend, Susie, gave me some of her artwork which is absolutely incredibly beautiful.  I will hang one picture in my bedroom so it's the first thing I see when I awake in the morning.  I will post a photo of them once I figure out how to take a picture with my phone camera and transfer to my computer.  Chemo brain is challenging!

Next week I have an appointment with a radiology oncologist to see if I would benefit from radiation therapy.  I try not to look too far ahead as it can be very overwhelming.  One day at a time is best.  And with all your love and support I will make it through.

Nine Weeks Down, Nine Weeks To Go

Deep breath as I head into the second round of chemotherapy tomorrow.  I am done my "F-E-C" drugs and am heading into one called Docetaxel.  It's a more powerful chemical with side effects ranging from loss of eyebrows and lashes, fingernails and toenails (disgusting), to nerve and muscle pain.  There is a slight chance for nausea but I'm talking myself out of that for sure.  Then there's the ice gloves that I'll be using to try and save my fingernails.  Apparently they're quite painful as they're so cold but I'll do my best.  The next day I will have injected into my stomach a drug called Neupogen to try and avoid fever and infection.  You see, my body will actually try to kill itself and there is a real risk to end up in hospital with a blood infection called sepsis, which can be fatal.  These injections will be administered every second day for ten days in each of the three rounds for a total of 15 injections.  As I am such a needle phobe, I have made arrangements for a friend who is a nurse to give me these injections.  I definitely won't be watching!  My good friend, Lori, is going to learn how to give them to me as a back-up.  How do you actually pay someone back for that?

Today I went for blood work and my counts were low so I have to be re-checked early in the morning before chemo to make sure my system can take the full dosage.  Then I saw the oncologist who asked how the last round went and reminded me of the possible horrors of the next round.  I told him I vomited, had about a week's worth of diarrhea and other messy things.  He is amazingly honest and straightforward which is what I wanted.  TeeTee went with me and we decided it was a Happy Dance Day, as the ultrasound I had last week shows no signs of spread to my liver (she was right - apparently the two spots were just fruit flies), pancreas, stomach, spleen and kidneys.  As there was never an indication of spread in my lymph system, this is all good news.  He sent a requisition today to a radiation oncologist for a consult to discuss with me the possibility of radiating my chest wall behind the site of my mastectomy.  Apparently there are risks for other health complications so I will have to weigh the pros and cons when the time comes.

The Docetaxel does damage to the heart muscle but I decided to continue with the chemotherapy and hope to prevent spread of the breast cancer in the future.  Therefore, the dilemma becomes which would I rather endure - the possibility that cancer will re-occur or possibly die of a heart ailment brought on by the very drug that is supposed to save my life?  Since I only have one shot at chemotherapy in my lifetime due to the toxicity of the chemicals, I decided to go ahead and see it through.  If there's spread in the future, maybe there will be something further the scientists will come up with in the meantime.  If not, it'll just be a matter of time.  If I don't go ahead with it, the chance of spread is doubled, from 24.5% to 49.5%.  So I'll go with the approximately 75% chance it won't spread and will resume workouts to strengthen my heart muscle through exercise and just try not to think about all this freaky stuff once I'm done my chemo.

I am now looking to life after cancer treatments, as opposed to the endlessly long road ahead I was staring at nine weeks ago.  After tomorrow, I'll have only two treatments left and will truly rejoice when it's over.  If I go through radiation, of course, I won't be back to working out for a while longer but that's okay.  Since I type for a living, due to my loss of concentration, the left arm damage left by the lymph node extraction and possibility of damage to the nerves in the ends of my fingers from the Docetaxel, my oncologist basically said I may be able to consider a return to work in August or September.  My goal is to get my physical self back into shape over the summer so I'm really ready to be back into feeling stronger before working.  Then I'll only have to concentrate on concentrating and hopefully all the side effects will have worn off completely.

Of course, I'd way rather spend the summer in Italy, as dreamed of for years.  That's not up to me, however, but I would welcome the opportunity with open arms and a happy, albeit somewhat diminished, heart!  I can dream, right?  In the words of Justin Bieber, "Never Say Never - I Will Fight Till Forever".

So all my dear friends, here we go again.  I have TeeTee taking me tomorrow, Tracey coming by after work with supplies and Ethel sleeping over.  Then the needle teach class with Lori on Wednesday and so on.  You are all amazing to be at my side this entire time.  Without doubt, you all are playing a hand in saving my life...in so many ways.  I love you all more than words can ever express.