I am now officially a blow up doll! I had my first expansion injection on Thursday. What a strange experience!
The doctor uses a magnet to find the metal port in the breast expander and marks its location on my skin with a a sharpie pen. Didn't you think it would be something more high tech than a magnet and a sharpie? Next he inserts a needle into the port and begins to inject saline into the expander. Since I don't have any feeling in my breasts, the needle doesn't hurt. The saline, however, feels quite strange. It's kinda hard to explain, really.... I guess you would call it tightness and pressure. Certainly not a feeling I've had before. He injected 50 cc into each breast.
I felt a little tender and sore later that afternoon, but nothing too severe. I did take a sleeping pill that night and it worked like a charm. I have been sleeping on the couch since my surgery because I am still uncomfortable lying down. I have developed a nest of pillows that allows me to sleep propped up. It seems like the couch would be an uncomfortable place to sleep, but it's not for me.
The doctor says I will probably have 3 more injections spaced out at every two weeks. Once we reach the size we want, we will sit for two months before the exchange surgery. Two months! I didn't realize it was quite so long. What a strange process this is!
I have been having these "memories" about a doll that grows boobs. You twist her arm over her head and her boobs pop out. Twist it back and the boobs go away. Did I make this up in my imagination or was it real? I tried a google search but didn't come up with anything. Did I dream this? Maybe I just have a vivid imagination! If anybody remembers such a thing, please let me know. I feel kinda like one of those dolls.
So.... one injection down and three more to go!
Showing posts with label Procedures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Procedures. Show all posts
Friday, February 6, 2009
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
More Details Than You Ever Wanted!
I saw my doctor yesterday regarding my continuing treatment plan. We will never know exactly what caused my fever. It was either a reaction to the chemo drug, Taxotere (a highly unusual response), a virus (which seems unlikely for 8 days and that occurred before my white count ever dropped), or a reaction to the Nuelasta shot - which helps to rebuild your white count after it drops from the chemo.
The doctor suggested the following options listed here in order of her preference:
1. Do taxotre again without the nuelasta shot. This leaves me with a 1 in 3 chance of winding up neutrapenic (low white count) and thereby vulnerable to infection…. And infection would put me in the hospital on iv antibiotics again and be potentially life threatening.I have agonized over this decision the last few days and have not been able to concentrate on work. (I am performing so badly at my job right now. I feel terrible about it.) I have been really emotional about the decision making and I keep tearing up every time I try to talk about it to someone. It's kinda hard to have a productive conversation when you are crying.....
2. Do taxotere again and instead of the nuelasta, I would take nuepogen shots daily for 10 days. Nuepogen is the short acting version of nuelasta. So if I start to have a bad response again, we could stop the drug and it would be out of my system in 24 hours. The down side - daily injections in my tummy:(
3. Go back to drug #1 which we know I can tolerate well. This option is about 2-3% less efficacious as option one, but has less dangerous (and more tolerable) side effects.
4. Quit. She says 4 sessions (which I’ve had) is the minimum standard. Less than 4 is not efficacious, 6 sessions is more efficacious - by maybe 3-4%.
So... stopping is not an option. Yes - days out of the hospital I was frustrated and tired and said I was ready to quit. I have some perspective now and know that I want to keep going. Yet - I HATE the idea of winding up sick in the hospital again. I was miserable! On the other hand, I don't want to have a recurrence 3 years down the road and live with the regret of not having tried the most effective treatment because I was afraid of 10 days of fever, bone pain and a trip to the hospital. Hmmmm.... 10 days of illness vs. years of life on earth. The answer is becoming clearer now.
I finally pulled it together this afternoon and have decided on option #2 - Taxotere with the daily nuepogen shots. I want to know that I did everything that I could to prevent a recurrence. I want to pursue the most effective and aggressive treatment that has the best statistical outcome.
To do Taxotere without the Nuelasta comes with a risk of life threatening infections that I'm not willing to chance. To do it with the Nuepogen shots comes with some additional pain and hassle and still the possibility of fever and bone pain - but it is not life threatening and allows me the option to stop if my blood counts are okay and the pain is too bad. I will still have to play the game of checking blood counts and cultures to make sure the fever is not indicative of an infection. I could very well end up in the hospital on IV antibiotics again if the fever doesn't abate quickly. But overall it feels like the safest way to reach my goal.
God I hate making decisions like this!
So the infusion is Thursday morning at 10:00 a.m. Ben will have to get instructions on how to give me the shots. At least I can do them at home vs. a daily trip to the doctor. I also got daily shots in the stomach while I was in the hospital and they didn't hurt. It just sounds awful because I think we all grew up with the horror stories about what would happen to you if you were bit by a dog with rabies! Our parents used the threat of 10 days of stomach shots to keep us away from stray mutts! Am I right? Although the shots don't hurt -they leave one heck of a dark black bruise. I will have a very colorful stomach!
So wish me luck. Not sure what the next week will bring or when I will feel like posting again. Please send positive thoughts, or prayers, or do a voodoo dance that will keep me out of the hospital this time. I can take some pain and discomfort - just don't want to be incarcerated and tied to an IV pole again!
As always - I'll talk to you from the other side of this treatment.
274
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
3 Down - 3 To Go
Chemo 3 is done. This round was a little harder than the previous ones. A little more nausea, a little more indigestion, a little more fatigue. But it is done and it brings me to the halfway mark.
The next three sessions will be a different drug which means we are back to the unknown and which further means that my anxiety sky rockets. I hate the unknown. The new drug has weird side effects that scare me - shortnesss of breath, skin reactions, mouth sores, darkening of the skin and nails. Did I mention that I hate the unknown? I have to try and forget all about it for the next three weeks. I need a new mantra - any suggestions?
I am happy that the long holiday weekend is near. The Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. I like cooking out on the grill and having summer fresh veggies. I love drinking beer in the humidity and shooting off fireworks in the dark. Large firework displays are nice, but I'd much rather shoot my own. I love going into that sweltering hot tent and filling up a basket with roman candles, butterflies, and sparklers. It's good to throw in a fountain or two and you must have a dozen or so large mortars. Throw in a few punks to use as lighters and you've got yourself a couple hours of do-it-yourself entertainment. God Bless America!
Hope everyone has a safe and happy Independence Day!
The next three sessions will be a different drug which means we are back to the unknown and which further means that my anxiety sky rockets. I hate the unknown. The new drug has weird side effects that scare me - shortnesss of breath, skin reactions, mouth sores, darkening of the skin and nails. Did I mention that I hate the unknown? I have to try and forget all about it for the next three weeks. I need a new mantra - any suggestions?
I am happy that the long holiday weekend is near. The Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. I like cooking out on the grill and having summer fresh veggies. I love drinking beer in the humidity and shooting off fireworks in the dark. Large firework displays are nice, but I'd much rather shoot my own. I love going into that sweltering hot tent and filling up a basket with roman candles, butterflies, and sparklers. It's good to throw in a fountain or two and you must have a dozen or so large mortars. Throw in a few punks to use as lighters and you've got yourself a couple hours of do-it-yourself entertainment. God Bless America!
Hope everyone has a safe and happy Independence Day!
600
Monday, June 9, 2008
Chemo 2 is Done
Well, I made it past chemo number two without much problem. My reaction was pretty much the same as the first time. I fought the nausea for several hours after the infusion and then felt tired, irritable, and hung over the next two days. I hate the nausea part but the rest of it I can tolerate. The weird part about the nausea is that even after it’s gone, if I think about it, I start to feel queasy all over again. It takes a few days to get it out of my mind.
The hair… is gone. It became such a mess I had no choice but to shave it all off. My sister-in-law, Diana, brought clippers to the house and shaved it for me. I have to tell ya – it is weird being bald. The loss made the weekend a little harder to handle. It’s a lot easier to talk the talk than to walk the walk – if you know what I mean.
For the first 24 hours, my head felt like it had mentholated cream all over it; it was tingly and cool. And my scalp feels very tender and vulnerable. There is still some stubble left so right now it feels rough like a cat's tongue! I’ve never been very good with accessories so this whole scarf and hat thing has me rattled. So far, I am clinging to one orange-ish scarf in particular. Every outfit will have to match this scarf because it’s the only one that feels comfortable!
This will take some getting used to….
The hair… is gone. It became such a mess I had no choice but to shave it all off. My sister-in-law, Diana, brought clippers to the house and shaved it for me. I have to tell ya – it is weird being bald. The loss made the weekend a little harder to handle. It’s a lot easier to talk the talk than to walk the walk – if you know what I mean.
For the first 24 hours, my head felt like it had mentholated cream all over it; it was tingly and cool. And my scalp feels very tender and vulnerable. There is still some stubble left so right now it feels rough like a cat's tongue! I’ve never been very good with accessories so this whole scarf and hat thing has me rattled. So far, I am clinging to one orange-ish scarf in particular. Every outfit will have to match this scarf because it’s the only one that feels comfortable!
This will take some getting used to….
Friday, May 16, 2008
The 1st Chemo Day
A few more details about the first day of chemo...
Tuesday night before the first treatment, I went to Hot Springs for a meeting and went out for a few drinks with friends. It was such a wonderful time. It was so good to get away and relax for one night and put all the cancer stuff out of my head. The conversation was wonderful and the support and encouragement I got prepared me to face the challenge ahead. It was a lovely evening and a shot in the arm. I have to say, it was kinda funny when we got kicked out of the hotel parking lot at midnight by the hotel staff :)
Wednesday evening my sister drove down from Nashville, TN and brought me the cutest gift! When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I kept saying that I needed everyone to "circle the wagons and shoot!" It was my way of saying that I needed my friends and family to gather around me and help me get through all of this cancer stuff. My sister Janet wrote to me saying, "I've got your back covered and I am a good shot," and signed it Annie Oakley. So, for my gift she brought 3 toy covered wagons and some little cowboys and prairie-people. She set up a little diorama of circled wagons and picked toy characters to represent everyone in our family. She even had a woman character with guns that looked just like an Annie Oakley figure! On the outside of the circle there were two bulls to represent the cancer that everyone wants to kills. Wasn't that great? I got such a laugh! I am going to keep them circled until we get the "all clear sign."
We got up on Thursday and had a leisurely morning. At around 10:00 we went to a place at St. Vincent's Hospital called New Outlook. It is a wig and supply store for women going through chemotherapy. It feels a little silly, but I tried on a few wigs. I tried long hair and short hair. I even tried on a platinum blond look! In the end I walked away with a shorter brown wig that should be more suitable for the summer months. And here's the kicker - it was free! They provide every woman with one free wig. Of course, we left a donation anyway (well - my sister did) but what a nice service! Not sure how much I'll wear it... but you can't beat the price! We also managed to pick up a few scarves and hats through out the day at different places.
A quick bite of lunch and then on to the infusion center at UAMS for chemo number one. My appointment was for 12:00 noon and I didn't get in to the infusion room until almost 3:00. Ugh! We waited around for almost 3 hours!!! At first, something happened to my orders from the doctor's office. They hadn't been sent down like they were supposed to be. Secondly, the pharmacy was short staffed and backed up. I was so anxious by the time we started that my blood pressure was really high. I'm really glad my sister was there for this first visit.
The infusion itself was pretty quick. First, they gave me 7 anti nausea pills to take!! Then three different drugs were administered via IV within an hour. I left feeling okay and decided it was fine for me to go to Eli's 6:00 baseball game. About an hour into it - here came the nausea. I stuck it out for the end of the game and made it home. I took some pills and ate a baked potato which seemed to help. I think I waited a little too late to eat dinner. I was pretty miserable until about 10:30 until I was finally able to go to sleep.
Slept til 9:00 the next morning when Janet woke me up to drink some fluids. One of the drugs is supposed to be bad for your bladder and the more liquids you drink, the better. The nausea was gone but I felt like I had a bad hangover. I slept a lot today and feel decent this evening - especially after the wonderful dinner my sister cooked.
I'm hoping I've gone through the worst of it by now. The nausea was bad, but the hangover part was tolerable. Some people say the worst hits in 48 hours.... so we shall see!
Tuesday night before the first treatment, I went to Hot Springs for a meeting and went out for a few drinks with friends. It was such a wonderful time. It was so good to get away and relax for one night and put all the cancer stuff out of my head. The conversation was wonderful and the support and encouragement I got prepared me to face the challenge ahead. It was a lovely evening and a shot in the arm. I have to say, it was kinda funny when we got kicked out of the hotel parking lot at midnight by the hotel staff :)
Wednesday evening my sister drove down from Nashville, TN and brought me the cutest gift! When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I kept saying that I needed everyone to "circle the wagons and shoot!" It was my way of saying that I needed my friends and family to gather around me and help me get through all of this cancer stuff. My sister Janet wrote to me saying, "I've got your back covered and I am a good shot," and signed it Annie Oakley. So, for my gift she brought 3 toy covered wagons and some little cowboys and prairie-people. She set up a little diorama of circled wagons and picked toy characters to represent everyone in our family. She even had a woman character with guns that looked just like an Annie Oakley figure! On the outside of the circle there were two bulls to represent the cancer that everyone wants to kills. Wasn't that great? I got such a laugh! I am going to keep them circled until we get the "all clear sign."
We got up on Thursday and had a leisurely morning. At around 10:00 we went to a place at St. Vincent's Hospital called New Outlook. It is a wig and supply store for women going through chemotherapy. It feels a little silly, but I tried on a few wigs. I tried long hair and short hair. I even tried on a platinum blond look! In the end I walked away with a shorter brown wig that should be more suitable for the summer months. And here's the kicker - it was free! They provide every woman with one free wig. Of course, we left a donation anyway (well - my sister did) but what a nice service! Not sure how much I'll wear it... but you can't beat the price! We also managed to pick up a few scarves and hats through out the day at different places.
A quick bite of lunch and then on to the infusion center at UAMS for chemo number one. My appointment was for 12:00 noon and I didn't get in to the infusion room until almost 3:00. Ugh! We waited around for almost 3 hours!!! At first, something happened to my orders from the doctor's office. They hadn't been sent down like they were supposed to be. Secondly, the pharmacy was short staffed and backed up. I was so anxious by the time we started that my blood pressure was really high. I'm really glad my sister was there for this first visit.
The infusion itself was pretty quick. First, they gave me 7 anti nausea pills to take!! Then three different drugs were administered via IV within an hour. I left feeling okay and decided it was fine for me to go to Eli's 6:00 baseball game. About an hour into it - here came the nausea. I stuck it out for the end of the game and made it home. I took some pills and ate a baked potato which seemed to help. I think I waited a little too late to eat dinner. I was pretty miserable until about 10:30 until I was finally able to go to sleep.
Slept til 9:00 the next morning when Janet woke me up to drink some fluids. One of the drugs is supposed to be bad for your bladder and the more liquids you drink, the better. The nausea was gone but I felt like I had a bad hangover. I slept a lot today and feel decent this evening - especially after the wonderful dinner my sister cooked.
I'm hoping I've gone through the worst of it by now. The nausea was bad, but the hangover part was tolerable. Some people say the worst hits in 48 hours.... so we shall see!
1 Down, 5 To Go
Just a brief post to say I am doing okay. The chemo day was a long one. Got really nauseous between 7:00 and 10:00 p.m. but managed not to throw up! I put myself in a drug induced coma and slept it off. So far today, I feel like I have a bad hang over. Lord knows I've suffered through many of those before, so surely I can make it through this!
More details on the chemo day later - just wanted everyone to know that I am coping okay.
More details on the chemo day later - just wanted everyone to know that I am coping okay.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Surgery Is Over
Whew! I’m so glad to have the surgery part over. It is such a relief to hear that the sentinel node was negative. I feel like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The initial pathology that happens while you are on the table is considered about 90% accurate and they conduct a more thorough pathology exam on the node and the removed tissue once surgery is complete. There’s a chance that the full pathology exam could identify some cancerous cells – but the chances are slim.
The sentinel node procedure is way cool – and way painful! I had to have four injections into my areola! Four needle sticks without any numbing agent or any pain killers! And it burns and stings like a mother tucker – YEOW! You know it’s bad when the doctor looks you in the eye and says, “This is going to hurt. I’m sorry. Feel free to scream, cuss, or call me names.” The only thing I can say is that the doctor was VERY quick and the burning went away within a few seconds. And of course the temporary pain was worth it considering the procedure may prevent you from having a large incision under your arm and the unnecessary removal of clean lymph nodes (as it did for me).
About 10 – 15 minutes before they take you into the operating room, you get a nice “cocktail” to help you relax. At that point, you don’t care what they do to you! (Some of you have seen the picture my husband dared to take of me in this goofy state! I will not be posting it here!) All my memories are a little fuzzy after that. I remember rolling into the operating room and having the oxygen mask put to my face. Then lights out!
Waking up is just as fuzzy. I remember asking about the node… several times... and being happy that it was negative. I started to have some nausea and they quickly gave me some phenergin which promptly knocked me out again for about 2 hours. When I awoke – the nausea was completely gone and they said I could go home instead of staying at the hospital. More good news!
The incision on my breast is not the same orientation we had discussed and I don’t like it. But I am happy to say there doesn’t appear to be any noticeable change in the shape or size of my breast. I don’t even have any swelling. The pain is tolerable and I think I will be okay in 4 or 5 days. My breast and underarm are covered with steri-strips so it will be a few weeks before I can actually “meet” the scar that will be a part of my life now.
Stop the presses! Just got a call from the doctor. The path report came back clean! The two nodes they took were clean and the margins around the tumor were clean. Yee ha! Feeling lucky. Think I‘ll take the advice of my friend Jane and go buy a lottery ticket! This is the best news yet!
Gonna relax the rest of this week and the weekend. I’ll probably go back to work Monday or Tuesday. As I said before, the pain is pretty tolerable, I just feel like I want to sleep all the time. I think I only need the pain killers for night time now, which means I will have a lot left over. Hey - if you’re real nice to me I might share:)
The sentinel node procedure is way cool – and way painful! I had to have four injections into my areola! Four needle sticks without any numbing agent or any pain killers! And it burns and stings like a mother tucker – YEOW! You know it’s bad when the doctor looks you in the eye and says, “This is going to hurt. I’m sorry. Feel free to scream, cuss, or call me names.” The only thing I can say is that the doctor was VERY quick and the burning went away within a few seconds. And of course the temporary pain was worth it considering the procedure may prevent you from having a large incision under your arm and the unnecessary removal of clean lymph nodes (as it did for me).
About 10 – 15 minutes before they take you into the operating room, you get a nice “cocktail” to help you relax. At that point, you don’t care what they do to you! (Some of you have seen the picture my husband dared to take of me in this goofy state! I will not be posting it here!) All my memories are a little fuzzy after that. I remember rolling into the operating room and having the oxygen mask put to my face. Then lights out!
Waking up is just as fuzzy. I remember asking about the node… several times... and being happy that it was negative. I started to have some nausea and they quickly gave me some phenergin which promptly knocked me out again for about 2 hours. When I awoke – the nausea was completely gone and they said I could go home instead of staying at the hospital. More good news!
The incision on my breast is not the same orientation we had discussed and I don’t like it. But I am happy to say there doesn’t appear to be any noticeable change in the shape or size of my breast. I don’t even have any swelling. The pain is tolerable and I think I will be okay in 4 or 5 days. My breast and underarm are covered with steri-strips so it will be a few weeks before I can actually “meet” the scar that will be a part of my life now.
Stop the presses! Just got a call from the doctor. The path report came back clean! The two nodes they took were clean and the margins around the tumor were clean. Yee ha! Feeling lucky. Think I‘ll take the advice of my friend Jane and go buy a lottery ticket! This is the best news yet!
Gonna relax the rest of this week and the weekend. I’ll probably go back to work Monday or Tuesday. As I said before, the pain is pretty tolerable, I just feel like I want to sleep all the time. I think I only need the pain killers for night time now, which means I will have a lot left over. Hey - if you’re real nice to me I might share:)
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
NODES ARE NEGATIVE!!
The nodes were negative! This is great, great news.
Surgery went well. I got to come home vs. staying at the hospital. I'm resting comfortably.
More later...
Surgery went well. I got to come home vs. staying at the hospital. I'm resting comfortably.
More later...
Monday, April 21, 2008
Last Minute Details
I check in at 6:00 a.m. for surgery. Ugh - I am NOT a morning person. I go to Radiology at 7:15 a.m. for the marking of the sentinel node and surgery should be around 9:00 a.m. I'm guessing an hour for surgery, 30-45 minutes in recovery, and in a room by 12:30 -1:00. Sleep the rest of the afternoon. Spend one night in the hospital and go home on Wednesday.
I am a little anxious this afternoon. All of the anxiety I put aside during the delay is catching up with me. I am not nervous about the surgery itself - just anxious about the final outcome. You know... the dreaded scar. What was that mantra again? Oh yeah.... Remember the bigger picture; I will learn to embrace the scar. Remember the bigger picture; I will learn to embrace the scar. Remember the bigger picture...
Oh, I am so ready to get this over with! I wish I could go home and go to sleep right now. Alas, there is a baseball game and a little boy who would be very disappointed if his mother did not attend.
I will post my surgical experiences (what I remember of them!) when I get out of the hospital. I'll talk to you all on the other side of this thing!
I am a little anxious this afternoon. All of the anxiety I put aside during the delay is catching up with me. I am not nervous about the surgery itself - just anxious about the final outcome. You know... the dreaded scar. What was that mantra again? Oh yeah.... Remember the bigger picture; I will learn to embrace the scar. Remember the bigger picture; I will learn to embrace the scar. Remember the bigger picture...
Oh, I am so ready to get this over with! I wish I could go home and go to sleep right now. Alas, there is a baseball game and a little boy who would be very disappointed if his mother did not attend.
I will post my surgical experiences (what I remember of them!) when I get out of the hospital. I'll talk to you all on the other side of this thing!
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
New Date!
Got the call from the doctor's office right after I posted the last message! The surgery will now be on TUESDAY, APRIL 22nd.
Rats!
My surgery for Thursday has been CANCELLED because of a scheduling conflict with the doctor. Looks like it will be re-scheduled for next Monday or Tuesday. I will post here when I find out the new date.
Well, this certainly messes up my plans! I'm trying not to be too frustrated by it. I don't know why, but I somehow feel that there is a good reason for the postponement...
More later.
Well, this certainly messes up my plans! I'm trying not to be too frustrated by it. I don't know why, but I somehow feel that there is a good reason for the postponement...
More later.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Good News
Biopsy 2 is benign - no cancer. Yea! I now have all the surgery options open to me. All I have to do is choose! What a great way to enter the weekend.
I visit the surgeon on Wednesday. I feel certain we will make a decision and schedule a date for the surgery at that time. It will be great to finally get a plan of action in place.
Progress.
I visit the surgeon on Wednesday. I feel certain we will make a decision and schedule a date for the surgery at that time. It will be great to finally get a plan of action in place.
Progress.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Hate is a Strong Word, but I Really, Really, Really Don't Like the Tube
Biopsy 2 is over. Not toooo bad, but a little freaky. I was lying on my stomach and my boob was compressed in a vise grip so you can’t really move much. My chin and forehead were resting on a foam cushion inches off the table. Some how the sheet got bunched up in front of my face and I couldn't see any light while I was lying in the MRI tube. As I am pretty claustrophobic, this produced a moment of extreme anxiety for me. I felt like I was gonna bust out of there and run far, far away. Every fiber of my being was telling me to get up. It took a lot of effort to keep myself in control for those 10-15 minutes.
After they pulled me out, I had to stay in that position for another 30 minutes or so while the doctor then did the actual biopsy. I had to ask the tech to hold my hand and talk to me for a few minutes so I could calm down and stop trembling. I finally figured out that if we moved the sheet I could see light and that helped me tremendously. All in all, it was 4 trips into that tube that I don't like.
I hate that I am so claustrophobic; I have tried hard to overcome it. I have more control over it as I get older, but sometimes it simply overwhelms me. One of the most important things I learned today it that it’s important to ask for help when you need it. The tech was more than happy to hold my hand and talk and it went a long way towards calming me down (that and the valium was probably starting to kick in!)
I am pretty sore, but so far no hematoma. Looks like I will avoid that nuisance this go around. Thank goodness.
Hope I’m not making every procedure sound like a nightmare… they really aren’t that bad. Just annoying. We expect results on Monday. Friday if we are lucky.
Gonna take another valium and go to bed. One more notch on my procedure tally.
After they pulled me out, I had to stay in that position for another 30 minutes or so while the doctor then did the actual biopsy. I had to ask the tech to hold my hand and talk to me for a few minutes so I could calm down and stop trembling. I finally figured out that if we moved the sheet I could see light and that helped me tremendously. All in all, it was 4 trips into that tube that I don't like.
I hate that I am so claustrophobic; I have tried hard to overcome it. I have more control over it as I get older, but sometimes it simply overwhelms me. One of the most important things I learned today it that it’s important to ask for help when you need it. The tech was more than happy to hold my hand and talk and it went a long way towards calming me down (that and the valium was probably starting to kick in!)
I am pretty sore, but so far no hematoma. Looks like I will avoid that nuisance this go around. Thank goodness.
Hope I’m not making every procedure sound like a nightmare… they really aren’t that bad. Just annoying. We expect results on Monday. Friday if we are lucky.
Gonna take another valium and go to bed. One more notch on my procedure tally.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Re-Entry
We are back from the slopes and I guess tomorrow means re-entry into the real world again. The friends, sunshine and cool mountain air really were helpful for my anxiety. The mountains are so beautiful, the sky is unbelievably blue, and we had one fun day of hard snow. I had stretches of several hours at a time without thinking about cancer. I somehow thought that this vacation would give me time to contemplate treatment decisions in a relaxed manner and gather opinions from my friends, but in truth is was more of a distraction than anything. I am not much closer to any kind of decision about surgery. It's funny, as much as I was distracted during my vacation, I find it humorous how easily my mind wanders back to cancer. Some one might say “pass the salt, please” and I swear I heard “do you have metastases?” The brain is a strange thing….
I will have the second biopsy on Wednesday to gather more info (I need to double check that date!) My poor little boob is just now losing bruises from the previous procedure and the hematoma is still present. This biopsy will be MRI guided – which means another trip into that tiny tube I hate. (Deep breaths…) It sounds like quite a sophisticated procedure. They place you on your stomach with your breast hanging through a hole. They place some kind of grid around your breast and slide you into the MRI machine and take images. Then they slide you out of the MRI machine but you stay on the table with your breast nestled in the grid. They use the images from the MRI and the grid to show them where to insert the needle. All of this means you have to lie very still with your boob in a vise grip for about an hour. Not painful – just uncomfortable. Maybe I will get another valium :) And please – no hematoma this time!
If the biopsy is cancerous, then there won’t be a choice – I will have a mastectomy. If the biopsy is benign, I am back to making a choice between lumpectomy and mastectomy. I am still torn. It amazes me how quickly people jump to the conclusion of “cut them off - you don’t need them!” It just isn’t that simple and the medical evidence doesn’t support that. I still have a lot of decision making to do. Ugh. I am terrible at making decisions.
I have come to accept the idea of the chemo. From what I read, it just isn’t the horror that it used to be so many years ago. It isn’t fun, of course, but it sounds manageable. Losing the hair doesn’t freak me out too much… but still I’m not looking forward to it. The nausea scares me the most. I am a puker.
We have given Eli some basic facts about the cancer, but haven’t told him much. He is very protective of me and I wanted his spring break to be free of worry. We have talked about the surgical options openly in front of him, but I haven’t told him about the chemo yet. I think the chemo will scare him a bit so I am holding off until the next biopsy is complete. I am trying to unveil things to him one at a time so that he isn’t overwhelmed. When I told him I have cancer, he asked me if I was going to die. Gulp. I told him no. I said there are good kinds of cancer and bad kinds of cancer and that I have a good kind – it’s just going to take a lot of treatment to make it go away. All of the books I have read suggest that you be completely honest with kids, but I couldn’t find the words to tell him that there is maybe a 15% chance I won’t beat this disease. I just don’t think he needs to hear that at this time.
(By the way, I have to mention that Eli is a truly gifted skier and it is such a joy to see him fly down the mountain. He has skied a total of 4 weeks only in his entire life and he can handle just about anything the mountain has to offer – with the exception of a few extreme, double black diamond runs. Steepness, moguls, jumps, iciness… he handles it all. Skiing is truly his sport.)
So, distractions are over; back to reality tomorrow. It will be hard. Work looms, school goes on, the laundry still needs washing… and treatment decisions have to be made.
Thanks to everyone that encouraged me to go skiing and that sent good wishes while we were there. And thank you to all my friends that helped with the distraction during the trip: Mimi, Herman, Jane, Sean, Ruth, Mike, and Frank. It was a much needed vacation.
And of course, thank you to Ben and Eli for going with me and for waiting at the bottom of every hill for me to catch up:)
I will have the second biopsy on Wednesday to gather more info (I need to double check that date!) My poor little boob is just now losing bruises from the previous procedure and the hematoma is still present. This biopsy will be MRI guided – which means another trip into that tiny tube I hate. (Deep breaths…) It sounds like quite a sophisticated procedure. They place you on your stomach with your breast hanging through a hole. They place some kind of grid around your breast and slide you into the MRI machine and take images. Then they slide you out of the MRI machine but you stay on the table with your breast nestled in the grid. They use the images from the MRI and the grid to show them where to insert the needle. All of this means you have to lie very still with your boob in a vise grip for about an hour. Not painful – just uncomfortable. Maybe I will get another valium :) And please – no hematoma this time!
If the biopsy is cancerous, then there won’t be a choice – I will have a mastectomy. If the biopsy is benign, I am back to making a choice between lumpectomy and mastectomy. I am still torn. It amazes me how quickly people jump to the conclusion of “cut them off - you don’t need them!” It just isn’t that simple and the medical evidence doesn’t support that. I still have a lot of decision making to do. Ugh. I am terrible at making decisions.
I have come to accept the idea of the chemo. From what I read, it just isn’t the horror that it used to be so many years ago. It isn’t fun, of course, but it sounds manageable. Losing the hair doesn’t freak me out too much… but still I’m not looking forward to it. The nausea scares me the most. I am a puker.
We have given Eli some basic facts about the cancer, but haven’t told him much. He is very protective of me and I wanted his spring break to be free of worry. We have talked about the surgical options openly in front of him, but I haven’t told him about the chemo yet. I think the chemo will scare him a bit so I am holding off until the next biopsy is complete. I am trying to unveil things to him one at a time so that he isn’t overwhelmed. When I told him I have cancer, he asked me if I was going to die. Gulp. I told him no. I said there are good kinds of cancer and bad kinds of cancer and that I have a good kind – it’s just going to take a lot of treatment to make it go away. All of the books I have read suggest that you be completely honest with kids, but I couldn’t find the words to tell him that there is maybe a 15% chance I won’t beat this disease. I just don’t think he needs to hear that at this time.
(By the way, I have to mention that Eli is a truly gifted skier and it is such a joy to see him fly down the mountain. He has skied a total of 4 weeks only in his entire life and he can handle just about anything the mountain has to offer – with the exception of a few extreme, double black diamond runs. Steepness, moguls, jumps, iciness… he handles it all. Skiing is truly his sport.)
So, distractions are over; back to reality tomorrow. It will be hard. Work looms, school goes on, the laundry still needs washing… and treatment decisions have to be made.
Thanks to everyone that encouraged me to go skiing and that sent good wishes while we were there. And thank you to all my friends that helped with the distraction during the trip: Mimi, Herman, Jane, Sean, Ruth, Mike, and Frank. It was a much needed vacation.
And of course, thank you to Ben and Eli for going with me and for waiting at the bottom of every hill for me to catch up:)
Friday, March 14, 2008
Sedatives are Good
Oh good grief! The PET CT was a piece of cake. They insisted that I take a valium - not for anxiety but because it relaxes the muscles in the chest wall... and something to do with "brown fat"? - whatever that is. Anyway, I took it and I'm glad.
After they injected me with the radioactive "dye" (I know it's not really dye) I had to wait TWO hours before they could do the scan. I got to sit in a private room in a big recliner and it was fine. The valium kicked in quickly so reading was out of the question. I put on my ipod and blasted the Phantom of the Opera and then later some Joni Mitchell. I decided that Joni Mitchell and valium go together nicely!
I snoozed off and on for the whole two hours which I realize makes me a pretty cheap date. I only had 5 mgs of valium and I felt pretty loopy. It kind of surprised me that no one even checked on me once in those two hours. Not that I needed anything... but still.
I was happy to see that the scanner is nothing like the MRI machine. The tube is not long enough to hold your entire body, so some portion of you is always sticking out. No claustrophobic feelings at all. I guess the valium really did help cause I fell asleep in the machine after about 10 minutes!!! It was very peaceful and quiet in there and they covered me up with a heated blanket. I slept like a baby through the whole thing. Time passes pretty quickly when you're snoozing!
So... one scan down and one more to go next week. I think I'll ask them for a valium :)
After they injected me with the radioactive "dye" (I know it's not really dye) I had to wait TWO hours before they could do the scan. I got to sit in a private room in a big recliner and it was fine. The valium kicked in quickly so reading was out of the question. I put on my ipod and blasted the Phantom of the Opera and then later some Joni Mitchell. I decided that Joni Mitchell and valium go together nicely!
I snoozed off and on for the whole two hours which I realize makes me a pretty cheap date. I only had 5 mgs of valium and I felt pretty loopy. It kind of surprised me that no one even checked on me once in those two hours. Not that I needed anything... but still.
I was happy to see that the scanner is nothing like the MRI machine. The tube is not long enough to hold your entire body, so some portion of you is always sticking out. No claustrophobic feelings at all. I guess the valium really did help cause I fell asleep in the machine after about 10 minutes!!! It was very peaceful and quiet in there and they covered me up with a heated blanket. I slept like a baby through the whole thing. Time passes pretty quickly when you're snoozing!
So... one scan down and one more to go next week. I think I'll ask them for a valium :)
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Waiting
Like so many other women, it started with a lump. I'm pretty good about doing self exams, but I simply felt this one while soaping up in the shower. It took me two weeks to convince myself it was actually a lump... another week to make the appointment.
The radiology assistant who had been very chatty became suddenly quiet when she was performing the ultrasound on the lump. I could see the screen myself and I could see it was a solid mass. 7 millimeters.
The biopsy occurred about a week later on a Thursday. It was a fairly easy procedure, very little pain. I went by myself because Ben, my husband, was out of town. Within a few hours a large hematoma began to develop. The doctor had warned me of such an outcome. The mass is high on my chest wall, close to a lot of muscle and therefore close to a lot of blood vessels. The hematoma was painful and it was hard to move around. My breast turned black and blue - more black than blue.
The call came on the following Monday. It is cancer - infiltrating, ductal carcinoma grade 3. I don't understand what all that means yet, but I know grade 3 is the highest level. I am scheduled to meet with Dr. Westbrook on Weds. morning. He says he will order an MRI and a type of CT scan. There are other tests we will have to perform in order to stage the cancer. We won't make any decisions on Weds, we will simply talk.
Talking is good.
I put out a few emails to friends and co-workers informing them of the diagnosis. A flood of generous emails and phone call were quickly returned. The best way I know how to deal with all this is to reach out to my friends and family. I need their support and encouragement. I asked everyone to circle the wagons and shoot! It's time to fight.
I feel strong and capable of dealing with this. I am not scared - only dreadful of the process. This is a very curable disease if caught early, and I hope we have done that. I have no idea what all this will involve, but I know a lumpectomy or mastectomy will be first. I am fond of my boobs and don't like the idea of losing one - but what the heck - I'll just get another one! A newer, perkier one. And maybe I'll get the healthy one tightened up a bit to match! I've heard of one procedure where they take the fat from your stomach and use it to make a breast - so you get a tummy tuck to boot. And insurance pays!
I decided to start this blog as a way of keeping people updated on my progress. So many wonderful friends have asked to stay informed. The blog will allow everyone to stay informed on their own schedule and avoid overcrowding in your inbox. (I can be verbose, at times.) It will also allow me a place to vent. I named it Melon Wars.... for obvious reasons. I'll save that discussion for another day.
Feel free to leave me comments. I will try to post regularly.
The radiology assistant who had been very chatty became suddenly quiet when she was performing the ultrasound on the lump. I could see the screen myself and I could see it was a solid mass. 7 millimeters.
The biopsy occurred about a week later on a Thursday. It was a fairly easy procedure, very little pain. I went by myself because Ben, my husband, was out of town. Within a few hours a large hematoma began to develop. The doctor had warned me of such an outcome. The mass is high on my chest wall, close to a lot of muscle and therefore close to a lot of blood vessels. The hematoma was painful and it was hard to move around. My breast turned black and blue - more black than blue.
The call came on the following Monday. It is cancer - infiltrating, ductal carcinoma grade 3. I don't understand what all that means yet, but I know grade 3 is the highest level. I am scheduled to meet with Dr. Westbrook on Weds. morning. He says he will order an MRI and a type of CT scan. There are other tests we will have to perform in order to stage the cancer. We won't make any decisions on Weds, we will simply talk.
Talking is good.
I put out a few emails to friends and co-workers informing them of the diagnosis. A flood of generous emails and phone call were quickly returned. The best way I know how to deal with all this is to reach out to my friends and family. I need their support and encouragement. I asked everyone to circle the wagons and shoot! It's time to fight.
I feel strong and capable of dealing with this. I am not scared - only dreadful of the process. This is a very curable disease if caught early, and I hope we have done that. I have no idea what all this will involve, but I know a lumpectomy or mastectomy will be first. I am fond of my boobs and don't like the idea of losing one - but what the heck - I'll just get another one! A newer, perkier one. And maybe I'll get the healthy one tightened up a bit to match! I've heard of one procedure where they take the fat from your stomach and use it to make a breast - so you get a tummy tuck to boot. And insurance pays!
I decided to start this blog as a way of keeping people updated on my progress. So many wonderful friends have asked to stay informed. The blog will allow everyone to stay informed on their own schedule and avoid overcrowding in your inbox. (I can be verbose, at times.) It will also allow me a place to vent. I named it Melon Wars.... for obvious reasons. I'll save that discussion for another day.
Feel free to leave me comments. I will try to post regularly.
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