"What's your prognosis?" I am frequently asked this question. I know it is asked with caring, but I haven't an answer.
Let's get serious. In a perfect world I will be healed, in a less perfect world things may go wrong. Do I know? NO! Do the doctors know? NO! Does cancer follow rules? NO!
A scan today may be clean. A scan down the road may not. That is why my significant others and I take one day at a time. It is why I encourage you and your significant others to do the same. Enjoy! None of us know what tomorrow will bring.
Relish, love and live for today.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Light in the Cave
The body heals, and it feels soooo good. There is light in the "cave." I am eating lots of protein to assist my body in replacing damaged cells. Both infections are almost totally healed. We are going on walks after school enjoying fall and not having to zip over to Tacoma to be zapped. We are not up to our four miles, but we're moving.
When I showed up at my last radiation session I had many cards to give to the gal going through lung/brain radiation. I had little notes on the envelopes like "Open after next radiation," all the cards were marked to get her through her last chemotherapy session. I hope she got them and unlike some people I know I hope she didn't open them all in one quick sitting! More than anything I hope they make her smile and keep her strong.
Slowly Paul and I emerge from "our cave". Someone whose brother is going through cancer said she can't seem to get through. Her brother and his wife are in a cave only big enough for two. How well Paul and I understand those words. We needed to lock ourselves away to focus on health, healing, wellness (mental and physical), and recovery. The cancer shock is a two by four that knocks you out for a time. Think of the cartoons of the character with little birds flying above the head. We are slowly emerging from our cave, reaching out to people we didn't have room for in our cave.
We hope they will understand and celebrate our emerging from the cave. While we don't know if future events will force us back into the cave or if we are emerging never to return to the darkness - we are happy to see some light.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
When I showed up at my last radiation session I had many cards to give to the gal going through lung/brain radiation. I had little notes on the envelopes like "Open after next radiation," all the cards were marked to get her through her last chemotherapy session. I hope she got them and unlike some people I know I hope she didn't open them all in one quick sitting! More than anything I hope they make her smile and keep her strong.
Slowly Paul and I emerge from "our cave". Someone whose brother is going through cancer said she can't seem to get through. Her brother and his wife are in a cave only big enough for two. How well Paul and I understand those words. We needed to lock ourselves away to focus on health, healing, wellness (mental and physical), and recovery. The cancer shock is a two by four that knocks you out for a time. Think of the cartoons of the character with little birds flying above the head. We are slowly emerging from our cave, reaching out to people we didn't have room for in our cave.
We hope they will understand and celebrate our emerging from the cave. While we don't know if future events will force us back into the cave or if we are emerging never to return to the darkness - we are happy to see some light.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Marathon
Somewhere I read of someone one else going through the cancer journey. She wanted to sprint through it and a wiser person told her it was a marathon. What wise words those are. I couldn't wait to be done with radiation, but here I am done and not healthy.
I couldn't wait to be done so we could resume our daily walking adventures. I can not breathe deep enough to walk a distance. I cannot carry on a conversation without coughing. A marathon. I so want to be finished with illness.
I want to be healthy, breathe deeply, have energy and have an immune system on full power. But I must focus about what I do have: life, insurance, food, job, spouse that I love and respect, friends, shelter, family . The way I see it is I am so far through this journey. I have finished the worst of chemo therapy. I have finished thirty-three days of burning radiation (the machine actually smoked last night). Yet I have a breast infection and lung infection which are slowing me down. I don't want to be slowed down.
I want to yell and scream and live life to its fullest. I want to climb Mr. Rainier. I want to wake up and feel GOOD.
I want good health.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
I couldn't wait to be done so we could resume our daily walking adventures. I can not breathe deep enough to walk a distance. I cannot carry on a conversation without coughing. A marathon. I so want to be finished with illness.
I want to be healthy, breathe deeply, have energy and have an immune system on full power. But I must focus about what I do have: life, insurance, food, job, spouse that I love and respect, friends, shelter, family . The way I see it is I am so far through this journey. I have finished the worst of chemo therapy. I have finished thirty-three days of burning radiation (the machine actually smoked last night). Yet I have a breast infection and lung infection which are slowing me down. I don't want to be slowed down.
I want to yell and scream and live life to its fullest. I want to climb Mr. Rainier. I want to wake up and feel GOOD.
I want good health.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Five To Go
Less than six months ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had 82 grams removed from my breast. The cancer found its way into my lymph nodes. What a journey it has been. It seems like years. Learning how to dance in the storm rather than waiting for it to pass has been a priority. I am still learning how to dance.
Chemo this morning and radiation this evening. We went out for lunch after chemo now that I'm on the shortened, no big side effects chemicals. A nice lunch we had...so nice that dinner was not required this evening! We try to have some fun after each session and generally speaking we are usually quite successful.
Five days left of radiation. Today they started the radiation boost. This targets the area in the breast where the cancerous spots were removed rather than the whole breast. I have joked with a few people at work that if they see something pink on the ground they shouldn't step on it, and call me quickly. It's probably my nipple. Five more days and it might fall off! If all goes according to plan, next Thursday will be my last day. YEAH!!!
I was given some roses from the gal I have tried to support through this ordeal. She told me she had her second "big" chemo today and did okay. Her spirits were up. What a change in her from when we first met! The technician thanked me today. I asked, "For what?" He replied , "For being here for her."
All that strength, support, and cheering from you, enabled me to enable her. She too will learn how to dance in the storm.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Chemo this morning and radiation this evening. We went out for lunch after chemo now that I'm on the shortened, no big side effects chemicals. A nice lunch we had...so nice that dinner was not required this evening! We try to have some fun after each session and generally speaking we are usually quite successful.
Five days left of radiation. Today they started the radiation boost. This targets the area in the breast where the cancerous spots were removed rather than the whole breast. I have joked with a few people at work that if they see something pink on the ground they shouldn't step on it, and call me quickly. It's probably my nipple. Five more days and it might fall off! If all goes according to plan, next Thursday will be my last day. YEAH!!!
I was given some roses from the gal I have tried to support through this ordeal. She told me she had her second "big" chemo today and did okay. Her spirits were up. What a change in her from when we first met! The technician thanked me today. I asked, "For what?" He replied , "For being here for her."
All that strength, support, and cheering from you, enabled me to enable her. She too will learn how to dance in the storm.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Radiation Day 23
This week has been one of the hardest during this "ordeal". I'm not feeling tough this week.
The area under my arm and to the right of my breast is sunburned, my armpit is now peeling with miniature blisters. On a scale of pain from 1 to 10, probably a 3. Not painful...it just hurts. It wears on me. I am trying alternatives to bras as they just make a lousy situation more irritating.
Two people I encountered in the waiting room this week were "knocking on heaven's door". Conversation with the technicians confirmed that for some they just try to make their last days more comfortable.
The gal I have befriended had an infection in her hand from a simple scratch. She missed the last couple of days but was back today. She had shaved her head and was sappy when I asked from the dressing room if she did it in preparation of hair loss or if hair loss had already started. I took off my STRENGTH bracelet and told her to focus on it when she didn't feel strong. She left for her treatment. She came back, changed her clothes and left the area. Back within moments with a pen. "I want your phone number." I wrote it down and told her to call anytime. "Did you hear the two long beeps? They're frying my brain." She sobbed. I hugged her and said, "No, they're frying the cancer cells not your brain. The cancer has to go." She rambled a bit and then left.
Talking with my mom this morning I said Paul has encouraged me to stop reading the obituaries. Yes, people still die from breast cancer. I am tired. I hurt. I haven't wanted to take time from work. I love my job. I cry easily. This morning my mother asked about my sick leave. I still have lots, but I don't want to use it. Something bad might happen I told her.
"Take it! You're being miserly. This is something bad".
Something bad. Know I can beat it, but something bad has invaded my "turf".
Breast Cancer Awareness Month
I will sleep, I will focus on wellness, and I will give thanks for all of you.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
The area under my arm and to the right of my breast is sunburned, my armpit is now peeling with miniature blisters. On a scale of pain from 1 to 10, probably a 3. Not painful...it just hurts. It wears on me. I am trying alternatives to bras as they just make a lousy situation more irritating.
Two people I encountered in the waiting room this week were "knocking on heaven's door". Conversation with the technicians confirmed that for some they just try to make their last days more comfortable.
The gal I have befriended had an infection in her hand from a simple scratch. She missed the last couple of days but was back today. She had shaved her head and was sappy when I asked from the dressing room if she did it in preparation of hair loss or if hair loss had already started. I took off my STRENGTH bracelet and told her to focus on it when she didn't feel strong. She left for her treatment. She came back, changed her clothes and left the area. Back within moments with a pen. "I want your phone number." I wrote it down and told her to call anytime. "Did you hear the two long beeps? They're frying my brain." She sobbed. I hugged her and said, "No, they're frying the cancer cells not your brain. The cancer has to go." She rambled a bit and then left.
Talking with my mom this morning I said Paul has encouraged me to stop reading the obituaries. Yes, people still die from breast cancer. I am tired. I hurt. I haven't wanted to take time from work. I love my job. I cry easily. This morning my mother asked about my sick leave. I still have lots, but I don't want to use it. Something bad might happen I told her.
"Take it! You're being miserly. This is something bad".
Something bad. Know I can beat it, but something bad has invaded my "turf".
Breast Cancer Awareness Month
I will sleep, I will focus on wellness, and I will give thanks for all of you.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Thursday, September 24, 2009
When You Wake Up....Life is Good
YEAH ME!!! Monday I will be two-thirds finished with radiation. I have learned that the last five days will target the incision areas. The last two days they have drawn all over my breast with permanent marker so they will know where to have the machine target. I get nervous as every couple days it seems like I have different technicians administering my radiation. Some are precise about my placement under the machine...others don't care. Some are precise about the 9.5 centimeters across my chest...others don't care. Well I'm still alive and am starting to form some heavily sunburned areas so they must be doing something right!
I am getting to know all these people and they are getting to know me. I like that. I am the last patient of the day. I like to think this is a good thing. Done with me...done for the day. They know Paul and Tucker because when they walk out at the end of their day they see Paul and Tucker observing the people exiting the building, and they see Tucker's butt wiggling with joy. (Yes, they beat me out of the building after radiation.) I don't want to be just another breast cancer patient. Remember me for my spirit and good cheer. I want them to CARE! When I said that every day was a good day when you wake up in the morning they kind of stared at me.....HELLLLLOOOOO...life is good when you wake up. They both said they hadn't thought of that.
When you wake up it is a good day. Don't ever forget that!
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
I am getting to know all these people and they are getting to know me. I like that. I am the last patient of the day. I like to think this is a good thing. Done with me...done for the day. They know Paul and Tucker because when they walk out at the end of their day they see Paul and Tucker observing the people exiting the building, and they see Tucker's butt wiggling with joy. (Yes, they beat me out of the building after radiation.) I don't want to be just another breast cancer patient. Remember me for my spirit and good cheer. I want them to CARE! When I said that every day was a good day when you wake up in the morning they kind of stared at me.....HELLLLLOOOOO...life is good when you wake up. They both said they hadn't thought of that.
When you wake up it is a good day. Don't ever forget that!
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Drive Through Service
Today was a chemotherapy day in Tacoma at 11:00. Then back to Tacoma for radiation for my 5:15 appointment. Honestly...these treatments are minimal in side effects compared to the summer's toxic chemicals. One chemical instead of three. Not a cake walk by any means, but nothing like the summer's ordeal.
Generally I am holding up well working. I miss our walking which we really haven't done consistently since I was diagnosed in April. We aren't doing it now because of the radiation schedule, and I am feeling as worn as a favorite pair of jeans by the end of the day. When we get home from radiation that is when I let the "tired" consume me. The last two weekends I have slept in until 7:30. Unheard of in this house. Our weekends (once I get out of bed) have been busy making up for "lost" time in the summer. We've done some short hikes with Tucker and relished in the beauty of the scenery and fragrance of the alpine wilderness.
Yesterday in radiation the woman I spoke of last week was there. I handed her a bag of polished rocks and told her to choose one that felt good in her hand and to carry it with her at all times. I learned that she has lung cancer that has also formed a spot on her brain. They are radiating the lung daily and the brain intermittently. Scary? You bet. She chose a rock and then was called to go in. She took her rock with her. When she came out she said the machine ate her rock. She told the technicians she wasn't leaving without her rock (I am making her stronger already!). They had to move the machine to retrieve it. As she left she put her hand on my shoulder and thanked me. She was going to her first chemo today. Through two short sessions of talking with her, she is beginning to see hope.
You see, we have learned, to the medical community a patient is just another patient. Another patient that needs chemotherapy and radiation. They see it everyday. It is not new to them. It is terrifying, and they seem to have forgotten or have never known that. The literature given to me described severe potential side effects that could occur immediately. I expected someone would call to check on me after my first treatment. No one did. No one talks to you. No details. No sequence of events. No one tells you what to do to minimize effects. Patients need knowledge and a doctor that can take the time to know and speak to patients, in addition to medical treatment. Our medical system has become a very expensive drive through service...a $3.00 Starbucks or a $6,000 chemical martini.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
Generally I am holding up well working. I miss our walking which we really haven't done consistently since I was diagnosed in April. We aren't doing it now because of the radiation schedule, and I am feeling as worn as a favorite pair of jeans by the end of the day. When we get home from radiation that is when I let the "tired" consume me. The last two weekends I have slept in until 7:30. Unheard of in this house. Our weekends (once I get out of bed) have been busy making up for "lost" time in the summer. We've done some short hikes with Tucker and relished in the beauty of the scenery and fragrance of the alpine wilderness.
Yesterday in radiation the woman I spoke of last week was there. I handed her a bag of polished rocks and told her to choose one that felt good in her hand and to carry it with her at all times. I learned that she has lung cancer that has also formed a spot on her brain. They are radiating the lung daily and the brain intermittently. Scary? You bet. She chose a rock and then was called to go in. She took her rock with her. When she came out she said the machine ate her rock. She told the technicians she wasn't leaving without her rock (I am making her stronger already!). They had to move the machine to retrieve it. As she left she put her hand on my shoulder and thanked me. She was going to her first chemo today. Through two short sessions of talking with her, she is beginning to see hope.
You see, we have learned, to the medical community a patient is just another patient. Another patient that needs chemotherapy and radiation. They see it everyday. It is not new to them. It is terrifying, and they seem to have forgotten or have never known that. The literature given to me described severe potential side effects that could occur immediately. I expected someone would call to check on me after my first treatment. No one did. No one talks to you. No details. No sequence of events. No one tells you what to do to minimize effects. Patients need knowledge and a doctor that can take the time to know and speak to patients, in addition to medical treatment. Our medical system has become a very expensive drive through service...a $3.00 Starbucks or a $6,000 chemical martini.
Make Pink Tough and Expect Great Things
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