I feel good. I am on the mend after of a year of chemicals being poured throughout my body. I am on the mend. My sense of humor is coming back. I am no longer sleeping for hours upon hours. I can digest fresh fruit and vegetables. I am on the mend!
While on the mend I am scared and intimidated by stories. People die of breast cancer every day. It creeps into their system unknown to the body owner. Guess that's why it's called cancer. It is sneaky and wicked in its ways. Elizabeth Edwards losing the fight. I know she has great doctors and insurance - yet she is losing the battle.
A cure must be found.
Keep Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Monday, December 6, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
One Step Closer
Today brings me one step closer to the finish line. Excitement(YEAH!) and apprehension(What if something goes wrong?) have invaded my mind as I approach the finish line. I imagine my fear is fairly common among those of us that have walked in these shoes.
I continue to be asked about my prognosis. After I had surgery and one microscopic cancer cell was discovered in my lymph nodes a course of action was presented to me.
1. A highly toxic dose of chemicals that make your hair fall out, beat up your immune system and make you feel like crap would be administered four times in three week intervals.
2. A continuation of one chemical for a full year (that's the Herceptin that has a high risk of destroying the heart and causing heart damage through heart attacks).
3. Thirty-three days of burning radiation.
4. Hormone therapy for five years. (Before insurance coverage each pill is $10.00.)
Each action reduces the chance of re-occurrence by a fairly small percentage. If I recall correctly, the percentage reduced by radiation was about 7%. All these steps combined reduce my chance of re-occurrence to about 25%.
Is there a magical blood test that they can give me to see if breast cancer cells are floating through my body? Darn...not yet! Why bother with mammograms if that were the case?
Am I cured? In my mind, you bet! In the medical profession? No, I am in remission. I am not cured until I have been cancer free for five years.
Each one of you that has shared your prayers with me, held my hand, shouldered a tear, cheered me on from the depths of despair, sent those cards to make me laugh, and rallied for this finish I thank you. My words are so little for your actions that have been so BIG. You truly have made PINK TOUGH.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
I continue to be asked about my prognosis. After I had surgery and one microscopic cancer cell was discovered in my lymph nodes a course of action was presented to me.
1. A highly toxic dose of chemicals that make your hair fall out, beat up your immune system and make you feel like crap would be administered four times in three week intervals.
2. A continuation of one chemical for a full year (that's the Herceptin that has a high risk of destroying the heart and causing heart damage through heart attacks).
3. Thirty-three days of burning radiation.
4. Hormone therapy for five years. (Before insurance coverage each pill is $10.00.)
Each action reduces the chance of re-occurrence by a fairly small percentage. If I recall correctly, the percentage reduced by radiation was about 7%. All these steps combined reduce my chance of re-occurrence to about 25%.
Is there a magical blood test that they can give me to see if breast cancer cells are floating through my body? Darn...not yet! Why bother with mammograms if that were the case?
Am I cured? In my mind, you bet! In the medical profession? No, I am in remission. I am not cured until I have been cancer free for five years.
Each one of you that has shared your prayers with me, held my hand, shouldered a tear, cheered me on from the depths of despair, sent those cards to make me laugh, and rallied for this finish I thank you. My words are so little for your actions that have been so BIG. You truly have made PINK TOUGH.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The Countdown
Today brought another does of Herceptin and a visit to my oncologist. Her first words after "Hello," were "You look great!" I responded with, "Of course I do. All the weight I've gained has made my wrinkles disappear!" I had questions for her. Has my treatment had any impact on my low functioning thyroid? (None) When will my last Herceptin infusion be? (May) Should I start taking baby aspirin to prevent a reoccurence of breast cancer as reported by the American Medical Association? According to her, baby aspirin helps prevent colon, prostate, breast, and many other cancers. When I asked her if she takes it, she was quite taken aback and said, "Of course not. I don't take any pills." Hmmmm...isn't that interesting!
I've learned a lot of things I'd really rather not have learned through this journey. First, I've learned medical jargon. Would I have ever thought that the words port, Herceptin, and infusion therapy would become regular words in my vocabulary? Unfortunately I've also learned how the chemist mixes my Herceptin when I show up (it is considered a toxic material). Between the jargon and chemistry of it all I've found that the chemo nurses are overworked and grouchy after three day weekends. There are twice as many people there making up for the missed day. None of us want our treatment slowed down by holidays!
What things should I have known before unvoluntarily signing on for this journey? Imagine my surprise learning that at my age I was not invincible! We go to doctors for preventative medicine and to hear the words, "Everything's fine". Next learning...take nothing for granted. There are people I knew would care and people I knew who wouldn't care. I thought the medical community would guide and support me in this journey. What else have I learned? Be the person who cares most about you. You are your advocate. So many little things. What is the greatest learning I have discovered so far? I have more strength in me than I ever imagined. I am the sum of my parts. My mother, my husband, my family, my colleagues. You have given me the power. The countdown is on.............
Keep Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
I've learned a lot of things I'd really rather not have learned through this journey. First, I've learned medical jargon. Would I have ever thought that the words port, Herceptin, and infusion therapy would become regular words in my vocabulary? Unfortunately I've also learned how the chemist mixes my Herceptin when I show up (it is considered a toxic material). Between the jargon and chemistry of it all I've found that the chemo nurses are overworked and grouchy after three day weekends. There are twice as many people there making up for the missed day. None of us want our treatment slowed down by holidays!
What things should I have known before unvoluntarily signing on for this journey? Imagine my surprise learning that at my age I was not invincible! We go to doctors for preventative medicine and to hear the words, "Everything's fine". Next learning...take nothing for granted. There are people I knew would care and people I knew who wouldn't care. I thought the medical community would guide and support me in this journey. What else have I learned? Be the person who cares most about you. You are your advocate. So many little things. What is the greatest learning I have discovered so far? I have more strength in me than I ever imagined. I am the sum of my parts. My mother, my husband, my family, my colleagues. You have given me the power. The countdown is on.............
Keep Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
"F" Words
Did you know that breast cancer isn't limited to breasts? Did you know that there are different types of breast cancer? Even while being treated for breast cancer you can get another form of breast cancer?
Through out my treatment I have made pink tough and have expected great things. On Monday, February first I was derailed. What should I discover that morning? The lump. I had Paul check "the lump". Confirmation was made. E-mailed my general physician who got me in that day. Confirmation of "the lump," and a referral for a mammogram transpired. A week after my lump was discovered I had a mammogram and ultrasound. A full week of letting FEAR terrorize my every moment. My "toughness" disintegrated.
Results were vague. They couldn't locate anything "bad" on the mammogram. "The lump" is really more arm pit than breast. The ultrasound showed a "fatty" lymph node, but they were having trouble seeing behind scar tissue. Today I met with the oncologist. She felt good about the mammogram and ultrasound pictures. Some pushing, poking, groping and she smiled. "FAT," she said.
Today FAT is a joyous word to be celebrated.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Through out my treatment I have made pink tough and have expected great things. On Monday, February first I was derailed. What should I discover that morning? The lump. I had Paul check "the lump". Confirmation was made. E-mailed my general physician who got me in that day. Confirmation of "the lump," and a referral for a mammogram transpired. A week after my lump was discovered I had a mammogram and ultrasound. A full week of letting FEAR terrorize my every moment. My "toughness" disintegrated.
Results were vague. They couldn't locate anything "bad" on the mammogram. "The lump" is really more arm pit than breast. The ultrasound showed a "fatty" lymph node, but they were having trouble seeing behind scar tissue. Today I met with the oncologist. She felt good about the mammogram and ultrasound pictures. Some pushing, poking, groping and she smiled. "FAT," she said.
Today FAT is a joyous word to be celebrated.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Saturday, January 9, 2010
A Fallen Comrade
With my wig, fighting spirit, and sense of humor I have been able to "disguise" my illness. When we went to Hawaii I did not wear my wig. Outside of my small world how would people react to such short hair? I had a few comments, "Love the short hair". Based on this, I made the decision to stop wearing my wig. I was fearful of the reactions I might receive. One person who told me I didn't appear sick in September has totally avoided me. My not wearing the wig is a visual reminder to those who know me that I am still fighting. The most poignant reaction was from one of my more difficult students. She took one look at me Monday morning and said, "Mrs. Marston, you are beauuutiful." The sincerity behind these words astonished me.
It follows no rules. Here today, gone tomorrow, back again? No one knows. I do wish people would stop asking about my chance at life. This disease doesn't care if you are young or old, have young children or grown children, fight or not fight. It doesn't fight fairly and claimed another life - unfairly yesterday. She was a young mother, and she fought with everything she had. I did not know this woman. But we were comrades in the same war, fighting the same battle.
One small battle won, one huge battle lost...an unending war.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
It follows no rules. Here today, gone tomorrow, back again? No one knows. I do wish people would stop asking about my chance at life. This disease doesn't care if you are young or old, have young children or grown children, fight or not fight. It doesn't fight fairly and claimed another life - unfairly yesterday. She was a young mother, and she fought with everything she had. I did not know this woman. But we were comrades in the same war, fighting the same battle.
One small battle won, one huge battle lost...an unending war.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
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