Well today I knocked out another chemo treatment. I woke up at 4:00am crying. I did not want to go through this again, it was just three weeks ago and I got round one and it took the entire three weeks to recover. Doc said the first one will hit me the hardest, so fingers crossed this bounce back will be easier. After I finally was able to compose myself somewhat, it was something around 6:30, I tried to get up and clean to take my mind off of everything, it did not work. I spent the morning sick to my stomach again and trying to find the courage to get round 2 under my belt. When my dad came to pick up Gabby and Cole, I lost it. Last the time I left them to go to a doctor I did not return for a week. Cole gave me his favorite blankie, Mr.Yellow, to take and Gabby gave me her ducky. Ryan, my sister, my mom, and I all climbed into my moms car and headed off. I cried the entire way. I don't know why I bother to put make up on before these appointments, it is all cried off before we leave the neighborhood. I arrived at the cancer center and went to wait for the doctor to come in. He did give me good news, he felt me up and declared that after one chemo treatment he could no longer feel a "definable" mass, he did still feel some thickening but not the 9cm mass that was there. So chemo 1 had kicked the ass out of the tumor. I asked if I could stop the chemo and was shot down very quickly. I must complete 6, that is fine because whatever the chemotherapy is doing it is doing its job and doing it very well. I got some advice on how to better manage the side effects I experienced like the thrush in my mouth, the bloody noses, and the flu like symptoms. He told me that the first chemo always knocks your counts completely out because your body is not used to being hit that hard, my counts actually came back higher than they originally were. it was now time to head back to the "Amy Suite".
Upon going into the chemo room and straight back to my spot, one of my favorite patients was standing there chatting. He asked where I had been and why I was back there, my patients are just being told that I am taking some time off. I have always liked this guy, super nice to me and he has a cool Boston accent. I filled him in and he was heartbroken. He felt very bad and sad "if you work here shouldn't you have been screened better". Well, it doesn't really work that way, he was told that no other patients are being told and he promised to keep the secret. He wished me luck and went on his way. It is so hard looking at people who I have seen fight the fight and win and tell them that you are now fighting. I wanted to cry and wrap my rounds him and tell him how sorry I was that he had to go through this as well. I walked into my suite and saw my chair, I was freaking again. My nurse, Dawn, gave me a very sweet card and a special stone that says "there is nothing to fear but fear itself", I held on to this stone the entire time. She accessed my port, and I will say it is much easier then finding a vein, I felt nothing. She went to get my meds and said "remember all we are getting today is ativan". She started the ativan and bendadryl, for some reason this time I was not as loopy. I was still feeling good and had no care but I was able to play a card game with my entourage and talk without slurring my words. We sat there for awhile and Dawn and LeeAnn stayed in there with me, I knew this time they were staying because the chemo was going in but I was able to not focus on that. I then looked at LeeAnn and she told me I was out of the woods. Yay, finally the Taxotere bag came down and I knew it was all going to be ok. They hooked up the next chemo all went smoothly, then third drug again no problems.
I knocked out chemo number 2 with no numbers. I will get my neulasta injection tomorrow, followed by a follow up with my lung suregon and another chest xray. Then after that I am resting for 3 weeks, no collapsed lungs, no hospital stays, nothing. I will return on May 19th for my third round which will be halfway point! I feel very confident and going to knock this out of the park.
Cancer 0 Amy 2 (sorry for any misspelled words or nonsense, I am still a bit roofed)
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Family and friends
There are some areas in life where I consider myselfy unlucky, pretty sure you can figure that area out, and other areas where I feel like the luckiest person alive. I have an amazing husband who I am so furtunate to have. None of this can be easy on him either and yet he never shows any signs of being scared, upset, tired, or frustrated. He has re-arranged his life so he can be by my side every step of the way, he truly is my strength right now and I would not be able to get through this without his love and support. On the nights that I can not sleep, which are often, he sleeps in a recliner in the living room while I lay on the couch and watch TV all night, I am sure the recliner is not comfy but he stays there. He works all day and comes and takes care of me and the kids. He definitley deserves a medal or maybe some Phillies tickets in his near future.
My babies, where do I even begin? I know every parent thinks that their children are the best and the brightest but, I can honestly say that my kids are those things. They are dealing with so much right now, stuff that a 3 and 4 year old should not even know about let alone deal with it. Cole has the ability to make me laugh when I feel like crying, he will look at me and stare for few seconds then come up with some off the wall knock knock joke or goofy dance that he just made up. He also knows when mommy doesn't feel well and he will grab mr.yellow and mr.baseball, his blankies, and come sit next to me on the couch and just stay as long as I do. He constantly is telling me he loves me and that mommy will be ok. He is the piece that completed our family 3 years ago and he is the humor and compassion that will get me through this. Gabby, oh Ms.Gabrielle, my girl is way too smart for her own good. My heart actually aches for her at times. Cole is a boy, he is silly and he doesn't really take things seriously. Gabby she is in tune with what is going on around her and she picks up on things way too easily. Gabby, only 11 months older, really gets what is happening. We tried to shield her from what the actuality of this was but we did not succeed. She told me one morning "Mommy, I know you have cancer, are you going to die", that was the hardest and most heartbreaking thing I have ever heard. I told her mommy was going to be sick for awhile but that I was going to get better and NO mommy is not going to die. I felt heartbroken and like I was lying to her, I know I will not die from this but that fear is constantly with me. When I am scared, days like today since I am getting chemo at noon, or times when I can't fight the tears back she will sit next to me hold my hand, tell me everything is going to be ok, don't be scared, and she will cry with me. No 4 year old should be dealing with what she is dealing with. I try my hardest to walk away when my emotions consume me but she seems to have figured out that when I leave the room I am probably crying. Gabby has a gift, she has a big heart and she hates to see people sad or sick, she also says things to make you feel better about a hard situation. She told me today, we have both been up since 4:00am, that she can't wait for me to sick this weekend cause she wants to make me food and be my waitress. We have told them both that once mommies cancer is all gone we are going to get on a plane and go to Disney World. This seems to be a good distraction for them, when I can tell their little heads are spinning or when they start to get emotional, I just go to the Disney World site and we start planning. I am glad this is happening now when they both don't fully understand what is happening and when they can stay home with me everyday and not have to be in school dealing. They will bounce back from this, I just wish they never had to experience it.
My sister, my bff. I not only have the best husband and kids but I have an incredible sister. She too has been there with me everystep of the way. She even got a cancer ribbon tattoo on her wrist for me, that says a lot, no one ever thought my sister would get a tattoo. I have 4 tattoos and she has never been impressed by them and now she joined the club. She listens to me when I need to vent about how angry or sad I am, she will just sit and watch tv if I want, she is an amazing big sister and I am glad I have her to go in this journey with me. I know my sister is a strong person but I have always believed that I am a little stronger than her, I am glad that it was me and not her. I know I can deal with this but I would not be able to deal if it was her. I need my big sister and I would not be able to see her go through this
Friends, WOW! That is all I can say, I have always been the "loner", not really needing or wanting to be a part of a big friend circle. I have been blown away by the support and love I am getting from friends, it has ranged from concern, prayers and love from current friends to friends that I have not spoken too since high school. It just goes to show that no matter what you think of people or what may have happened in the past to seperate friends but you will always care about one another deep down. It also goes hand in with the other friends, you find out through hard times who real and true friends are. I can honestly same that when it comes to friends and people who are supporting me I have the best of the best.
I am now going to get up and get my day going and get pumped to go kill some cancer this afternoon. Even though that plan sounds postivie and up beat in reality, I will cry and be scared until the moment Dawn gives me my roofies in the chemo room! YAY for mind erasing drugs :)
My babies, where do I even begin? I know every parent thinks that their children are the best and the brightest but, I can honestly say that my kids are those things. They are dealing with so much right now, stuff that a 3 and 4 year old should not even know about let alone deal with it. Cole has the ability to make me laugh when I feel like crying, he will look at me and stare for few seconds then come up with some off the wall knock knock joke or goofy dance that he just made up. He also knows when mommy doesn't feel well and he will grab mr.yellow and mr.baseball, his blankies, and come sit next to me on the couch and just stay as long as I do. He constantly is telling me he loves me and that mommy will be ok. He is the piece that completed our family 3 years ago and he is the humor and compassion that will get me through this. Gabby, oh Ms.Gabrielle, my girl is way too smart for her own good. My heart actually aches for her at times. Cole is a boy, he is silly and he doesn't really take things seriously. Gabby she is in tune with what is going on around her and she picks up on things way too easily. Gabby, only 11 months older, really gets what is happening. We tried to shield her from what the actuality of this was but we did not succeed. She told me one morning "Mommy, I know you have cancer, are you going to die", that was the hardest and most heartbreaking thing I have ever heard. I told her mommy was going to be sick for awhile but that I was going to get better and NO mommy is not going to die. I felt heartbroken and like I was lying to her, I know I will not die from this but that fear is constantly with me. When I am scared, days like today since I am getting chemo at noon, or times when I can't fight the tears back she will sit next to me hold my hand, tell me everything is going to be ok, don't be scared, and she will cry with me. No 4 year old should be dealing with what she is dealing with. I try my hardest to walk away when my emotions consume me but she seems to have figured out that when I leave the room I am probably crying. Gabby has a gift, she has a big heart and she hates to see people sad or sick, she also says things to make you feel better about a hard situation. She told me today, we have both been up since 4:00am, that she can't wait for me to sick this weekend cause she wants to make me food and be my waitress. We have told them both that once mommies cancer is all gone we are going to get on a plane and go to Disney World. This seems to be a good distraction for them, when I can tell their little heads are spinning or when they start to get emotional, I just go to the Disney World site and we start planning. I am glad this is happening now when they both don't fully understand what is happening and when they can stay home with me everyday and not have to be in school dealing. They will bounce back from this, I just wish they never had to experience it.
My sister, my bff. I not only have the best husband and kids but I have an incredible sister. She too has been there with me everystep of the way. She even got a cancer ribbon tattoo on her wrist for me, that says a lot, no one ever thought my sister would get a tattoo. I have 4 tattoos and she has never been impressed by them and now she joined the club. She listens to me when I need to vent about how angry or sad I am, she will just sit and watch tv if I want, she is an amazing big sister and I am glad I have her to go in this journey with me. I know my sister is a strong person but I have always believed that I am a little stronger than her, I am glad that it was me and not her. I know I can deal with this but I would not be able to deal if it was her. I need my big sister and I would not be able to see her go through this
Friends, WOW! That is all I can say, I have always been the "loner", not really needing or wanting to be a part of a big friend circle. I have been blown away by the support and love I am getting from friends, it has ranged from concern, prayers and love from current friends to friends that I have not spoken too since high school. It just goes to show that no matter what you think of people or what may have happened in the past to seperate friends but you will always care about one another deep down. It also goes hand in with the other friends, you find out through hard times who real and true friends are. I can honestly same that when it comes to friends and people who are supporting me I have the best of the best.
I am now going to get up and get my day going and get pumped to go kill some cancer this afternoon. Even though that plan sounds postivie and up beat in reality, I will cry and be scared until the moment Dawn gives me my roofies in the chemo room! YAY for mind erasing drugs :)
Monday, April 25, 2011
Round 2 too soon
In three days I will be heading off to the Helen F Graham again to get my lovely friends Taxotere/Carboplatin/Herceptin infused into my body. I can honestly say that I am a little more scared to have it done a second time. I thought after the first round that going again would be no problem. Well, I was wrong. I am not sure if I am more afraid of them using the port this time to give me the chemo, the port is like a little alien under my skin that I can see and feel, I have been researching the port and have learned that it leads into an artery in my heart, I think. The thought of chemo going directly into my heart doesn't really sit that well with me. But, I hear that I will LOVE the port after I get my next infusion. I also am a little nervous about the drugs being pumped into me faster. The first time I got chemo it was a five and a half hour process, this time I will get it all in three hours, which means the drugs are going in a lot faster, don't like the thought of that either.
It is 18 days after my first treatment and I finally feel like me again. I got up this morning and cleaned my house, I slept relatively well, and my nose is not like a leaking faucet so far. I really am holding out hope that the first treatment was the worst. That from here on out it will not be as rough, I actually only felt like I had the flu on day 3 and 4 after treatment, but then again I ended up in the hospital on Monday night being pumped full of meds and fluids and spending the whole week there I honestly have no clue what I would have felt like had my lung not collapsed. So, I am going into treatment number 2 kinda of blind again. I do not know what effects I will have all next week, the one thing I do know is that chemo totally wiped out all my counts and I was told that on day 5, Wednesday, I will need to be in a "bubble". That is the day my counts were at 0 and I will not be able to fight off infections.
Round 1 was very hard on me and I am dreading going into round 2, I will have 4 left after this Thursday, then recovery from chemo followed by surgery and lastly radiation. I really was trying to think of ways to talk my oncologist into letting me get by with 4 treatments, I am having a double mastectomy so why keep trying to shrink the tumor if I am going to have the entire thing removed. I have finally decided that I will ask why I have to do 6 but I will push through and do all of them. My theory is 6 treatments gives me security, security that I will be able to pick out a prom dress with Gabby, see Cole play baseball in high school, attend the weddings of my kids and my niece and nephew, and grow old with Ryan. 6 treatments will be long and there will be ups and downs but sometimes it takes a battle to get a second chance. Once I win this battle and am given my second chance you can bet your money that I am gonna live one hell of a life.
It is 18 days after my first treatment and I finally feel like me again. I got up this morning and cleaned my house, I slept relatively well, and my nose is not like a leaking faucet so far. I really am holding out hope that the first treatment was the worst. That from here on out it will not be as rough, I actually only felt like I had the flu on day 3 and 4 after treatment, but then again I ended up in the hospital on Monday night being pumped full of meds and fluids and spending the whole week there I honestly have no clue what I would have felt like had my lung not collapsed. So, I am going into treatment number 2 kinda of blind again. I do not know what effects I will have all next week, the one thing I do know is that chemo totally wiped out all my counts and I was told that on day 5, Wednesday, I will need to be in a "bubble". That is the day my counts were at 0 and I will not be able to fight off infections.
Round 1 was very hard on me and I am dreading going into round 2, I will have 4 left after this Thursday, then recovery from chemo followed by surgery and lastly radiation. I really was trying to think of ways to talk my oncologist into letting me get by with 4 treatments, I am having a double mastectomy so why keep trying to shrink the tumor if I am going to have the entire thing removed. I have finally decided that I will ask why I have to do 6 but I will push through and do all of them. My theory is 6 treatments gives me security, security that I will be able to pick out a prom dress with Gabby, see Cole play baseball in high school, attend the weddings of my kids and my niece and nephew, and grow old with Ryan. 6 treatments will be long and there will be ups and downs but sometimes it takes a battle to get a second chance. Once I win this battle and am given my second chance you can bet your money that I am gonna live one hell of a life.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Hair
I have always been the girl that changed her hair more than anyone. I have never been "attached" to my hair, it has been every color, style, and texture you can imagine. I even dyed my hair 3 different colors in one week. My motto has always been "it is just hair" but, losing my hair has been the hardest part of this entire journey.
It started about 2 days ago, I washed my hair and ended up getting a handful in the shower, I was surprised that so much was coming out and so soon. I decided not to wash my hair with the hope that it would stay longer, that plan didn't work. Yesterday, if I touched my hair I would get a lot more in my hands then usual. Ryan thought it would be best if I went ahead and shaved my hair yesterday. I told him I was not ready to let go of it. It was mine, my hair was something that defined me, when I looked in the mirror the first thing I always saw was my hair, whether it looked good or bad it was mine. Today I woke up to my hair being everywhere. It was constantly on my clothes and if I touched my head I would get clumps. Every story I have read or every person I have talked to has said to shave it off, the cancer is taking so much away from you that losing your hair should be on your terms and make you feel like you had control in a situation where all control is gone. I let Ryan know that when he got home from work today he could be the one to buzz my head. How I was dreading 4:30 when he would be home.
I spent the majority of the day crying, I did not want to let go of my hair. I knew it was going to happen but I really was holding out hope that maybe just maybe I would be in the group of people that did not lose their hair. My niece, Maddy, who is only 7, told me today that with or without my hair I would still be beautiful to her (great now I am crying and typing) she also said that she is going to start planning a party for me for when I "lose my cancer". She is a pretty awesome little girl and I am very lucky to have her as my niece. My Gabrielle was very excited all day, she could not wait for my hair to be gone so she could call me daddy, since Ryan is bald she thinks it is funny to have both parents bald.
The time had come for Ryan to get home from work. My sister, brother-in-law, niece, and nephew all came down to the "good-bye hair" buzzing. Ryan got the clippers out and I lost it. I sat down in the chair and I bawled my eyes out the entire time. Seeing my hair falling to floor and feeling the chill on my head was not anything that I wanted to embrace. My sister sat at my knees and kept telling me it was ok, this was temporary. Maddy told me I looked beautiful and she liked it better than my hair, Gabby said I was now a girl-man (gotta love 4 year olds). Cole just sat there laughing, he thinks its funny that mommy has no hair. Ryan finally finished and I did not want to look in the mirror. I did not want to see what I looked like. I grabbed my head scarf and tried to put it on without looking, I got up and headed to the bathroom to get a tissue. The head scarf was not on good and I had to look in the mirror. I lost it again, I do not look like me. I look like the girl who has cancer. To me, none of this has felt real yet. Yeah, I already got chemo, yes I have a port, I have spent a week in the hospital, the whole nine but, nothing has felt like wow you have cancer. Until now.
That is what bothers me the most, I now look the part. I don't want people to look at me and feel bad or sad. I don't want to feel like a cancer patient. I don't want to embrace this, I want this over. I will be going tomorrow to get my wig, people keep telling me how much fun wigs are and how you can now change your hair everyday, I don't want to change my hair, I just want my hair back. Hopefully, once I get the wig and can look in the mirror again I will feel differently but right now I am going to grieve the loss of my hair and try to get used to not having anything to twirl while I watch tv.
It started about 2 days ago, I washed my hair and ended up getting a handful in the shower, I was surprised that so much was coming out and so soon. I decided not to wash my hair with the hope that it would stay longer, that plan didn't work. Yesterday, if I touched my hair I would get a lot more in my hands then usual. Ryan thought it would be best if I went ahead and shaved my hair yesterday. I told him I was not ready to let go of it. It was mine, my hair was something that defined me, when I looked in the mirror the first thing I always saw was my hair, whether it looked good or bad it was mine. Today I woke up to my hair being everywhere. It was constantly on my clothes and if I touched my head I would get clumps. Every story I have read or every person I have talked to has said to shave it off, the cancer is taking so much away from you that losing your hair should be on your terms and make you feel like you had control in a situation where all control is gone. I let Ryan know that when he got home from work today he could be the one to buzz my head. How I was dreading 4:30 when he would be home.
I spent the majority of the day crying, I did not want to let go of my hair. I knew it was going to happen but I really was holding out hope that maybe just maybe I would be in the group of people that did not lose their hair. My niece, Maddy, who is only 7, told me today that with or without my hair I would still be beautiful to her (great now I am crying and typing) she also said that she is going to start planning a party for me for when I "lose my cancer". She is a pretty awesome little girl and I am very lucky to have her as my niece. My Gabrielle was very excited all day, she could not wait for my hair to be gone so she could call me daddy, since Ryan is bald she thinks it is funny to have both parents bald.
The time had come for Ryan to get home from work. My sister, brother-in-law, niece, and nephew all came down to the "good-bye hair" buzzing. Ryan got the clippers out and I lost it. I sat down in the chair and I bawled my eyes out the entire time. Seeing my hair falling to floor and feeling the chill on my head was not anything that I wanted to embrace. My sister sat at my knees and kept telling me it was ok, this was temporary. Maddy told me I looked beautiful and she liked it better than my hair, Gabby said I was now a girl-man (gotta love 4 year olds). Cole just sat there laughing, he thinks its funny that mommy has no hair. Ryan finally finished and I did not want to look in the mirror. I did not want to see what I looked like. I grabbed my head scarf and tried to put it on without looking, I got up and headed to the bathroom to get a tissue. The head scarf was not on good and I had to look in the mirror. I lost it again, I do not look like me. I look like the girl who has cancer. To me, none of this has felt real yet. Yeah, I already got chemo, yes I have a port, I have spent a week in the hospital, the whole nine but, nothing has felt like wow you have cancer. Until now.
That is what bothers me the most, I now look the part. I don't want people to look at me and feel bad or sad. I don't want to feel like a cancer patient. I don't want to embrace this, I want this over. I will be going tomorrow to get my wig, people keep telling me how much fun wigs are and how you can now change your hair everyday, I don't want to change my hair, I just want my hair back. Hopefully, once I get the wig and can look in the mirror again I will feel differently but right now I am going to grieve the loss of my hair and try to get used to not having anything to twirl while I watch tv.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Everyday is one day closer
It has become so incredibly easy to sit around and feel sorry for myself. I have dedicated many hours to sitting on my couch and crying. I was a crier before all this but I really don't understand how I have any tears left. I cry all the time. I cry when Cole tells me a knock knock joke, I cry when Gabby says "are you really crying again", I cry and cry and cry. I have decided from this point forward I will allow myself 15 minutes a day to cry or feel sorry for myself, whatever I want. Then after that it will be wipe your eyes and move on. I am now 2 weeks to the day past my first chemo, still feeling tired and funny but I made it through a lot in the past 2 weeks. If I can make it through chemo, surgery, collapsed lung, chest tube, and a hospital stay, I can make it through all this. My body has proven to me that it is stronger than I could have ever imagined it to be.
I can sit here all day and make a list. A list of reasons why I should cry and why I should just sit around all day but that would be me allowing the cancer to define me. The cancer will not become a defining part of my life, it will be a temporary piece to my journey not a permanent one and definitely not something that deserves anymore of my time or energy. Instead I will make a list of the "silver linings" and reasons that I will thank the cancer for coming into my life. Here it goes;
~I get to spend all day every day home with Gabby and Cole
~I get to eat breakfast lunch and dinner with Gabby and Cole
~I get to watch daytime TV ( I am a sucker for Dawson's Creek re-runs)
~I get to take a nap in the middle of the day if I want
~I get to stay in my jammies all day if I want
~I can go outside and enjoy the nice weather instead of being stuck in an office
~I don't have to worry about doing my hair this summer (just throw on a wig or head scarves and I am ready)
~I don't have to shave my legs or underarms this summer (thanks chemo :) )
~I can spend my summer with my kiddies and my niece and nephew if I want
~I get to have my husband home every night (he used to work nights)
~I had my faith in people restored ( 99% of the time people really do care )
~I have communication with cousins and an aunt and uncle again
~I have time to be me and figure out what I really want to do with the rest of my life
~I get to take my kids to Disney World when this over
~I realized that I have some pretty amazing friends
Anytime I start to feel sorry for myself again, I will look back at my list and snap out of it. Yes, I have cancer. No, I am not going to stop living my life because of it. I did not appreciate what I had prior to this and now I do. I did not stop and take the time to enjoy the small things in life, now I will. So this will be 7 months of a struggle for me and family but in the end we will have a closer family, a new appreciation for life, a reason to live and I mean live life. All the small things don't matter anymore, who cares if it is not name brand ( that is a huge thing for me to say whoa), who cares if my kids make a mess or don't know the answer to a question, who cares if I am not on time, who cares if I am not a size 4, all that matters is that I am alive and could have it so much worse.
I can sit here all day and make a list. A list of reasons why I should cry and why I should just sit around all day but that would be me allowing the cancer to define me. The cancer will not become a defining part of my life, it will be a temporary piece to my journey not a permanent one and definitely not something that deserves anymore of my time or energy. Instead I will make a list of the "silver linings" and reasons that I will thank the cancer for coming into my life. Here it goes;
~I get to spend all day every day home with Gabby and Cole
~I get to eat breakfast lunch and dinner with Gabby and Cole
~I get to watch daytime TV ( I am a sucker for Dawson's Creek re-runs)
~I get to take a nap in the middle of the day if I want
~I get to stay in my jammies all day if I want
~I can go outside and enjoy the nice weather instead of being stuck in an office
~I don't have to worry about doing my hair this summer (just throw on a wig or head scarves and I am ready)
~I don't have to shave my legs or underarms this summer (thanks chemo :) )
~I can spend my summer with my kiddies and my niece and nephew if I want
~I get to have my husband home every night (he used to work nights)
~I had my faith in people restored ( 99% of the time people really do care )
~I have communication with cousins and an aunt and uncle again
~I have time to be me and figure out what I really want to do with the rest of my life
~I get to take my kids to Disney World when this over
~I realized that I have some pretty amazing friends
Anytime I start to feel sorry for myself again, I will look back at my list and snap out of it. Yes, I have cancer. No, I am not going to stop living my life because of it. I did not appreciate what I had prior to this and now I do. I did not stop and take the time to enjoy the small things in life, now I will. So this will be 7 months of a struggle for me and family but in the end we will have a closer family, a new appreciation for life, a reason to live and I mean live life. All the small things don't matter anymore, who cares if it is not name brand ( that is a huge thing for me to say whoa), who cares if my kids make a mess or don't know the answer to a question, who cares if I am not on time, who cares if I am not a size 4, all that matters is that I am alive and could have it so much worse.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
F off cancer
Being told you have cancer is hard. I am still a rollercoaster of emotions, maybe some is the chemo, I laugh one minute and cry the next. I find that more than anything I am angry. I am angry at innocent women I see walking in a store with their kids, I am angry at my husband for getting to go to work everyday, I am angry at my body for being "jacked" up and allowing cancer to happen, I am agnry I have to fight to live, I am angry I had to end up with a collapsed lung, I am just angry. I want this all to be over. I want to be reassured that I am going to beat this. I know in my heart I will beat this but there is still that little voice that creeps up and reminds me that cancer is unpredictable, cancer has a mind of its own. It is so hard to stay positive when you just don't feel like yourself.
When I was pregnant with both my kids I was sick, I mean sick. I couldn't eat, I had no energy, I hated everything about the first 18 weeks of both pregnancies. That horrible feeling is back, except this time I don't walk away with a baby. Cancer itself takes so much away from you, then you are given the lovely chemotherapy and that takes even more away. I went into this ready to fight but I did not realize I was going to be fighting this hard. I am hoping it gets easier from here, I am hoping that these past 2 weeks have been so hard because of how much I had to go through.
The mental aspect of all this has to be the worst.
When I was pregnant with both my kids I was sick, I mean sick. I couldn't eat, I had no energy, I hated everything about the first 18 weeks of both pregnancies. That horrible feeling is back, except this time I don't walk away with a baby. Cancer itself takes so much away from you, then you are given the lovely chemotherapy and that takes even more away. I went into this ready to fight but I did not realize I was going to be fighting this hard. I am hoping it gets easier from here, I am hoping that these past 2 weeks have been so hard because of how much I had to go through.
The mental aspect of all this has to be the worst.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Not as easy as I thought...
Chemotherapy is defined as "the use of chemical agents in the treatment or control of diseases", I think it should be re-defined as "toxins that are going to make you feel, look, taste, and think horribly". After I breezed through my first treatment I had all the confidence in the world this was going to be a walk in the park. Boy was I wrong. I had my first treatment on a Thursday and by Saturday I had felt like I was run over by a truck, not just once but several times. I could not get off my couch all day. I was hoping to wake up on Sunday feeling revived. I woke up to feeling like a 95 year old lady. My bones hurt so bad I could not walk, to lift my bottle of water was painful. Not to mention, everything I drank (which was just water) and ate tasted as though it had been laced with aluminum foil. By Monday morning I was feeling better, I was just feeling a bit weak and tired. I thought the worst was over.
Monday afternoon Ryan and I headed into Christiana Surgicenter to have a simple out patient procedure done. Of coure, nothing with me can be simple. I have never had any type of surgicial procedure done, this was my first. I was still feeling run down from the chemo and I really didn't want to go through with this. We signed in and had a seat, that's when it all started. I instantly started crying, begging Ryan to take me home. "Something is going to happen" , " I don't want go through with this" were all things that I was trying to convence Ryan. He just reassuring me, "everything will be fine, calm down, it will be over before you know it". It didn't work I was freaking. I heard the door to the pre-op area open and "Amy Minsker" was called. I froze, looked at Ryan and said "don't move, I am not going, you can't make me". The waiting room, full of people, was now staring at me. Ryan literrally had to drag me to the nurse, like a parent dragging a screaming child from a toy store. He told her I was a little scared and she let him come back and stay with me. Now that I look back on that part, what a sight I must have been! A 31 year old woman freaking out about a simple out patient procedure. The nure was great at calming me down, she herself was an 8 year cancer survivor and told me "it is going to be the hardest thing you do, but you will do it". We waited in the holding area for over an hour, nerves were starting to build back up, the anesthelogist came in and boy did he wish he had gotten any other person besides me! When I am nervous I tend to ask A LOT of questions and not normal questions, I ask some off the wall nonsense. I think his favorite was "what are the chances I end up in a coma from this until December", he first looked at me a little puzzled, then at Ryan, who probably just shook his head and he responded with "from twilight sleep, umm you are not completely under", a little silly, I know.
Finally, after waiting forever my favorite surgeon came in and said "man I am tired today"...not really comforting, already nervous! He told me calm down everything will go alright, worst case scenerio is he hits my lung. OH GREAT. He went to scrub up and the time had come for me to walk to the OR. I said bye to Ryan, crying of course, and made my way. The nurse opened the door to the OR, I saw the table, 5 nurses and machines. I FREAKED! "No, no, no, I want to go home. I changed my mind. It's my body" were the only things I could manage to say. I begged the anestheoligst to let me leave. He said "ok, if you want to go I will walk you back out" "YES, I want to leave now" was my response. "ok, let me flush your IV and pull it out then we will leave", "ok" he told me I needed to lay down on the table so he could get the IV because I was probably going to get dizzy and then we will go. Why I believed that, no clue. I layed down and next thing I knew I was looking at Ryan. The nurse walked over and said everything was done they were just waiting for the x-ray to make sure the port was in the right place. My doc strolls on over, not looking like his pleasant self and claims "somehow I knicked your lung" what? He told us it was only delfated 7.5mm, nothing to worry about it should heal on its own. He apologized, said he had no clue, he never expected this to happen. Thinking it was nothing big we were discharged and heading home.
We got home a little after 4 and by 2:30am I could not breathe. I could not cough, I could not laugh, I had stabbing pains in the left top side of my back and whenever I did inhale, it made a funny little sound. I woke Ryan up said we needed to get to the ER something was wrong. My sister came down to be with kids and we left. All the way to the ER I kept telling Ryan all I don't want is a chest tube. Now, earlier my surgeon had told me what would happen if my lung continued to "delfate" and he said we don't want that it is very painful. Sat in the ER until about 4:30am waiting for X-ray results, doc finally came in and said, lung is collapsed. Again, I freaked. First thing out of my mouth was "do I need a chest tube" he responded with "yes" and I may have yelled the F-word. My nurse, Tara (God love her), was right there calming me down, the best she could. They explained the chest tube placement procedure to Ryan and myself and I was not happy! Will it hurt is all I wanted to know, it's not pleasant but we will get you through it was the answer I got. Awesome. About 5 mins later 3 thoracic surgeons, my nurse, and Ryan were all wearing surgical gear. This was all happening in a little ER room, seemed a little strange to me. As one doc told me to turn on my right side I got a glimpse of his name badge and it happened to be flipped around to show his AI Dupont badge, so in true Amy fashion I asked very loudy if he was a pediatrician, I was a grown woman and did not want a pediatrician putting a chest tube in me. A little offended, I am sure, he said no he works there also, not confident anymore. The other surgeon looked like he was 15 and I asked him if he was old enough to be doing this, he said yes, now 2 out 3 surgeons did not have my cofidence. As I lay there draped with a surgical sheet I see the third doc carrying in what looked like a police officers nightstick. The 15 year old surgeon was the one to place to tube, he starts feeling my ribs and counting, he then asks the other surgeon "between rib 3 and 4 or 4 and 5" "WHAT! Have you ever done this before" is what I quickly yelled. "yes" was all I got. I still think I was his first. He tells me I will be feeling some stinging and pinching, ok, feel it, then he says "you will now feel me seperating your ribs". Ok, some advice to doctors, don't give so much detail. OH THE PAIN. Then came the tube, the pressure, the pain, the jerking of my entire body because he could not get the tube in place, since I was his first patient EVER. He moved away and surgeon number 2 quickly jumped in, he was pushing and pulling and it literally felt like he was stabbing me in the heart, I felt like I couldn't breathe I was screaming and I mean SCREAMING for them to stop, I kicked the one doctor and my nurse who were down by sides. Poor Ryan, they had to get him a stool to sit on and he was as white as a ghost, sweating, hyperventaliting and made me let go of his hand. Finally I hear him say all done Amy. What, "I did not hear the gush of air you said I would did it not work" is all I asked. Dr. Sarcastic reponds with "you did not hear it because you were screaming so loud, it worked, I heard it". Ok, then the drugs kicked in and I was out. I woke up maybe 20 mins later in excrutiating pain. They kept giving me morphine but nothing took the pain away, every nurse or doctor who came in would comment on how painful these tubes were and they would never want to be in my place. That is comforting. The worst part was, hospital was at full capacity, which meant no bed available for Amy. I had to stay in the ER on the uncomfortable strectcher until 2:00pm when I finally got a room. I spent the next 4 days in a lovely private room, thanks to chemo for making me neutropenic!
After 4 long, depressing days in the hospital a wonderful doctor came in and said on my last 2 chest x-rays my lung was at 10% deflated and not moving. What does that mean, its safe to get the tube out and go home to Gabby and Cole, who I had not seen in 4 entire days! It was 10:00pm did I want to do it now or first thing in the morning, now! Pull the tube and send me on my way. I was scared to have it taken out, the pain of it being put in was still haunting me. The doctor who took it out was amazing, he was cracking jokes about my nerves and asking about the kids, he told me calm down and take a deep breath, take another deep breath, one more and hold it. Two seconds later he was waving the tube around into my face saying "hellooo there". EWWWWW, that was inside my body for 4 straight days. He also then decided to get a little serious and personal with us. He told me that my surgeon, the lung collapser, was the best in the state. He confided in us that he has not only been on the professional side of breast cancer surgery with him but also the personal side and he is the best at getting the cancer out. I told him I appreciated him telling us that information and that I already knew that. This was not his fault. It was a risk to the procedure I was having done, it just happened to be me. My surgeon feels terrible, he told us that a million times, I am the 4th lung he has ever hit, and he has been doing this a very long time the doc is at least mid 60's. His last one was ten years ago. He spent hours every night in the hospital with us, talking, watching tv, anything I wanted. He had a moment with me when we were alone and he said some very nice things. Hell, he even called me this morning to see how I was doing.
Basically first week of treatment, horrible! It can only get better from here. I hope.
Monday afternoon Ryan and I headed into Christiana Surgicenter to have a simple out patient procedure done. Of coure, nothing with me can be simple. I have never had any type of surgicial procedure done, this was my first. I was still feeling run down from the chemo and I really didn't want to go through with this. We signed in and had a seat, that's when it all started. I instantly started crying, begging Ryan to take me home. "Something is going to happen" , " I don't want go through with this" were all things that I was trying to convence Ryan. He just reassuring me, "everything will be fine, calm down, it will be over before you know it". It didn't work I was freaking. I heard the door to the pre-op area open and "Amy Minsker" was called. I froze, looked at Ryan and said "don't move, I am not going, you can't make me". The waiting room, full of people, was now staring at me. Ryan literrally had to drag me to the nurse, like a parent dragging a screaming child from a toy store. He told her I was a little scared and she let him come back and stay with me. Now that I look back on that part, what a sight I must have been! A 31 year old woman freaking out about a simple out patient procedure. The nure was great at calming me down, she herself was an 8 year cancer survivor and told me "it is going to be the hardest thing you do, but you will do it". We waited in the holding area for over an hour, nerves were starting to build back up, the anesthelogist came in and boy did he wish he had gotten any other person besides me! When I am nervous I tend to ask A LOT of questions and not normal questions, I ask some off the wall nonsense. I think his favorite was "what are the chances I end up in a coma from this until December", he first looked at me a little puzzled, then at Ryan, who probably just shook his head and he responded with "from twilight sleep, umm you are not completely under", a little silly, I know.
Finally, after waiting forever my favorite surgeon came in and said "man I am tired today"...not really comforting, already nervous! He told me calm down everything will go alright, worst case scenerio is he hits my lung. OH GREAT. He went to scrub up and the time had come for me to walk to the OR. I said bye to Ryan, crying of course, and made my way. The nurse opened the door to the OR, I saw the table, 5 nurses and machines. I FREAKED! "No, no, no, I want to go home. I changed my mind. It's my body" were the only things I could manage to say. I begged the anestheoligst to let me leave. He said "ok, if you want to go I will walk you back out" "YES, I want to leave now" was my response. "ok, let me flush your IV and pull it out then we will leave", "ok" he told me I needed to lay down on the table so he could get the IV because I was probably going to get dizzy and then we will go. Why I believed that, no clue. I layed down and next thing I knew I was looking at Ryan. The nurse walked over and said everything was done they were just waiting for the x-ray to make sure the port was in the right place. My doc strolls on over, not looking like his pleasant self and claims "somehow I knicked your lung" what? He told us it was only delfated 7.5mm, nothing to worry about it should heal on its own. He apologized, said he had no clue, he never expected this to happen. Thinking it was nothing big we were discharged and heading home.
We got home a little after 4 and by 2:30am I could not breathe. I could not cough, I could not laugh, I had stabbing pains in the left top side of my back and whenever I did inhale, it made a funny little sound. I woke Ryan up said we needed to get to the ER something was wrong. My sister came down to be with kids and we left. All the way to the ER I kept telling Ryan all I don't want is a chest tube. Now, earlier my surgeon had told me what would happen if my lung continued to "delfate" and he said we don't want that it is very painful. Sat in the ER until about 4:30am waiting for X-ray results, doc finally came in and said, lung is collapsed. Again, I freaked. First thing out of my mouth was "do I need a chest tube" he responded with "yes" and I may have yelled the F-word. My nurse, Tara (God love her), was right there calming me down, the best she could. They explained the chest tube placement procedure to Ryan and myself and I was not happy! Will it hurt is all I wanted to know, it's not pleasant but we will get you through it was the answer I got. Awesome. About 5 mins later 3 thoracic surgeons, my nurse, and Ryan were all wearing surgical gear. This was all happening in a little ER room, seemed a little strange to me. As one doc told me to turn on my right side I got a glimpse of his name badge and it happened to be flipped around to show his AI Dupont badge, so in true Amy fashion I asked very loudy if he was a pediatrician, I was a grown woman and did not want a pediatrician putting a chest tube in me. A little offended, I am sure, he said no he works there also, not confident anymore. The other surgeon looked like he was 15 and I asked him if he was old enough to be doing this, he said yes, now 2 out 3 surgeons did not have my cofidence. As I lay there draped with a surgical sheet I see the third doc carrying in what looked like a police officers nightstick. The 15 year old surgeon was the one to place to tube, he starts feeling my ribs and counting, he then asks the other surgeon "between rib 3 and 4 or 4 and 5" "WHAT! Have you ever done this before" is what I quickly yelled. "yes" was all I got. I still think I was his first. He tells me I will be feeling some stinging and pinching, ok, feel it, then he says "you will now feel me seperating your ribs". Ok, some advice to doctors, don't give so much detail. OH THE PAIN. Then came the tube, the pressure, the pain, the jerking of my entire body because he could not get the tube in place, since I was his first patient EVER. He moved away and surgeon number 2 quickly jumped in, he was pushing and pulling and it literally felt like he was stabbing me in the heart, I felt like I couldn't breathe I was screaming and I mean SCREAMING for them to stop, I kicked the one doctor and my nurse who were down by sides. Poor Ryan, they had to get him a stool to sit on and he was as white as a ghost, sweating, hyperventaliting and made me let go of his hand. Finally I hear him say all done Amy. What, "I did not hear the gush of air you said I would did it not work" is all I asked. Dr. Sarcastic reponds with "you did not hear it because you were screaming so loud, it worked, I heard it". Ok, then the drugs kicked in and I was out. I woke up maybe 20 mins later in excrutiating pain. They kept giving me morphine but nothing took the pain away, every nurse or doctor who came in would comment on how painful these tubes were and they would never want to be in my place. That is comforting. The worst part was, hospital was at full capacity, which meant no bed available for Amy. I had to stay in the ER on the uncomfortable strectcher until 2:00pm when I finally got a room. I spent the next 4 days in a lovely private room, thanks to chemo for making me neutropenic!
After 4 long, depressing days in the hospital a wonderful doctor came in and said on my last 2 chest x-rays my lung was at 10% deflated and not moving. What does that mean, its safe to get the tube out and go home to Gabby and Cole, who I had not seen in 4 entire days! It was 10:00pm did I want to do it now or first thing in the morning, now! Pull the tube and send me on my way. I was scared to have it taken out, the pain of it being put in was still haunting me. The doctor who took it out was amazing, he was cracking jokes about my nerves and asking about the kids, he told me calm down and take a deep breath, take another deep breath, one more and hold it. Two seconds later he was waving the tube around into my face saying "hellooo there". EWWWWW, that was inside my body for 4 straight days. He also then decided to get a little serious and personal with us. He told me that my surgeon, the lung collapser, was the best in the state. He confided in us that he has not only been on the professional side of breast cancer surgery with him but also the personal side and he is the best at getting the cancer out. I told him I appreciated him telling us that information and that I already knew that. This was not his fault. It was a risk to the procedure I was having done, it just happened to be me. My surgeon feels terrible, he told us that a million times, I am the 4th lung he has ever hit, and he has been doing this a very long time the doc is at least mid 60's. His last one was ten years ago. He spent hours every night in the hospital with us, talking, watching tv, anything I wanted. He had a moment with me when we were alone and he said some very nice things. Hell, he even called me this morning to see how I was doing.
Basically first week of treatment, horrible! It can only get better from here. I hope.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Round 1
Eleanor Rossevelt once said "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you can not".
For me, fear as always been a huge part of my life. Since I was 18 years old I have struggled non-stop with severe anxiety and panic attacks. I have always refused to take medication, I was afraid of putting those pills into my body, I saw different therapists but nothing seemed to ever really work. The only thing that did "work" for me was becoming a slave to my fears. These fears have held me back so much in life, my husband and I did not go on our all expense paid honeymoon, we have skipped out on family vacations, parties, dinners, and so many other things that I can not even list. Fear is evil.
Yesterday, I faced the biggest fear I could ever imagine, Chemotherapy. Again, I am the girl who was afraid to take Tylenol or even try new foods because of the possibility of an allergic reaction. I spent my morning sick to my stomach, shaking, and crying. I knew the only thing that was going to make this cancer die was chemo, that still didn't mean I wanted to do it. As my mother-in-law came to pick the kids up , thank you, and we headed off to the good old Helen F. Graham Center, the tears did not stop streaming down my face. I was certain something was going to go wrong, in fact, I could even envision what was going to happen. I have walked through the doors of that building more times than I can count, yesterday, it felt different, I no longer felt like the employee, I was the patient. When I went into the office I was greeted once again by the most amazing co-workers and friends a person could ask for. Their support and generosity is incredible and I am so fortunate to have those girls in my life. My entourage, Ryan, Mandy, my mom, and my closest and dearest friend Wendy, made their way down the hall to Jamal's (my oncologists) office, where we sat and got more hugs form more incredibly caring co-workers, waiting for the "go ahead". Doc came in, blood pressure perfect, CBC CMP PLT and MAG all perfect, ugh, time to head back to the dreaded chemo room. Now, in my 6 years of being employed in this practice, I have always found ways to avoid going into the chemo room, it has broken my heart and just is not a place I ever wanted to visit.
Again, have I mentioned how amazing my co-workers are? In the chemo room they had an area set up in the corner with a curtain and chairs and a table called the "Amy Suite" just for me. I was fortunate to get my nurses LeeAnn and Dawn, don't get me wrong, I love all the nurses but these 2 know my fears and they are beyond caring and compassionate.
The IVs and needles came out, the shaking began. We had made a deal earlier, that whatever they were hooking up to my IV I would not be told what it was. I did not want to know when the chemo was invading my body. The first drip of meds started and I was told "you are going to like this stuff" about 5 minutes into that infusion, I had no care in the world. The room was a little spinney and I could feel a stupid perma grin on my face. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I did the whole time. I couldn't think straight, I was trying to respond to text messages only for them to be misspelled and making no sense. I sat there for 5 hours being pumped full of Taxotere/Carboplatin/Herceptin, and I could of cared less.The only time I realized that something was a bit off was when it was time to go home. I stood up and realized I was very unstable. I had a great support system with me yesterday and many people who stopped in to check on me. I had 2 great nurses who got me through treatment number 1.
Up next for me; neulasta shot today, a shot that makes your body produce white blood cells, then I am going to rest all weekend and allow the chemo to kill my cancer. Monday, I will have my first ever surgery, a port placement so they don't have to stick my veins every time and then a 3 week rest period before round 2.
Normally, I would allow the fear to grab me and stop me from doing things. Yesterday, I grabbed the fear and made it stop (technically the ativan/benadryll infusion I got stopped the fear but hey I am gonna take a point anyway).
All in all CANCER 0 AMY 1
For me, fear as always been a huge part of my life. Since I was 18 years old I have struggled non-stop with severe anxiety and panic attacks. I have always refused to take medication, I was afraid of putting those pills into my body, I saw different therapists but nothing seemed to ever really work. The only thing that did "work" for me was becoming a slave to my fears. These fears have held me back so much in life, my husband and I did not go on our all expense paid honeymoon, we have skipped out on family vacations, parties, dinners, and so many other things that I can not even list. Fear is evil.
Yesterday, I faced the biggest fear I could ever imagine, Chemotherapy. Again, I am the girl who was afraid to take Tylenol or even try new foods because of the possibility of an allergic reaction. I spent my morning sick to my stomach, shaking, and crying. I knew the only thing that was going to make this cancer die was chemo, that still didn't mean I wanted to do it. As my mother-in-law came to pick the kids up , thank you, and we headed off to the good old Helen F. Graham Center, the tears did not stop streaming down my face. I was certain something was going to go wrong, in fact, I could even envision what was going to happen. I have walked through the doors of that building more times than I can count, yesterday, it felt different, I no longer felt like the employee, I was the patient. When I went into the office I was greeted once again by the most amazing co-workers and friends a person could ask for. Their support and generosity is incredible and I am so fortunate to have those girls in my life. My entourage, Ryan, Mandy, my mom, and my closest and dearest friend Wendy, made their way down the hall to Jamal's (my oncologists) office, where we sat and got more hugs form more incredibly caring co-workers, waiting for the "go ahead". Doc came in, blood pressure perfect, CBC CMP PLT and MAG all perfect, ugh, time to head back to the dreaded chemo room. Now, in my 6 years of being employed in this practice, I have always found ways to avoid going into the chemo room, it has broken my heart and just is not a place I ever wanted to visit.
Again, have I mentioned how amazing my co-workers are? In the chemo room they had an area set up in the corner with a curtain and chairs and a table called the "Amy Suite" just for me. I was fortunate to get my nurses LeeAnn and Dawn, don't get me wrong, I love all the nurses but these 2 know my fears and they are beyond caring and compassionate.
The IVs and needles came out, the shaking began. We had made a deal earlier, that whatever they were hooking up to my IV I would not be told what it was. I did not want to know when the chemo was invading my body. The first drip of meds started and I was told "you are going to like this stuff" about 5 minutes into that infusion, I had no care in the world. The room was a little spinney and I could feel a stupid perma grin on my face. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I did the whole time. I couldn't think straight, I was trying to respond to text messages only for them to be misspelled and making no sense. I sat there for 5 hours being pumped full of Taxotere/Carboplatin/Herceptin, and I could of cared less.The only time I realized that something was a bit off was when it was time to go home. I stood up and realized I was very unstable. I had a great support system with me yesterday and many people who stopped in to check on me. I had 2 great nurses who got me through treatment number 1.
Up next for me; neulasta shot today, a shot that makes your body produce white blood cells, then I am going to rest all weekend and allow the chemo to kill my cancer. Monday, I will have my first ever surgery, a port placement so they don't have to stick my veins every time and then a 3 week rest period before round 2.
Normally, I would allow the fear to grab me and stop me from doing things. Yesterday, I grabbed the fear and made it stop (technically the ativan/benadryll infusion I got stopped the fear but hey I am gonna take a point anyway).
All in all CANCER 0 AMY 1
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Choices
It's funny how when you have cancer hearing your surgeon say "if I remove your entire breast", are words that make you feel comfortable and more confident. If someone would have said those 6 words to me 3 weeks ago, I would have been scared and sad but, yesterday those were words of comfort.
The first time I met my surgeon was almost 2 weeks ago, when I first met him he was goofy and a little inappropriate. I have seen him go from "stop worrying, this is nothing" to "I am so sorry, I would never have guessed this" in a matter of 2 hours. He sat in his office and joked with my husband about how he picked the right profession, "my favorite time of year is right after spring break, all the college girls drink too much caffeine and find all kinds of lumps", see where inappropriate fits in. He is the man that I yelled at, that I wanted to get out of my chair take him by his Santa Clause looking face and start hitting but, ultimately, he is the man who is going to save my life.
As Ryan and I sat in his waiting room yesterday anticipating hearing what he thought he could do surgery wise, he came strolling through the front door into the waiting room making the announcement "sorry I am late, had to go buy beer", he took us into his office, which by the way all doctors should do this. Exiting the cold sterile exam room and entering into their office, where they have family photos, papers, lunch from earlier, and signs that they are too human is more comforting and personal. He went over all my tests again, an ultrasound, a mammogram, an MRI, a PET scan, a CT scan, a biopsy, another ultrasound, and finally a MUGA scan, and the results; Grade 2 Invasive Ductal Cancer, Estrogen positive, HER2 positive, looks like 1 lymph node is involved, confined to just the right breast (thank the good lord), scattered DCIS and finally some benign calcifications. I have worked in the cancer center for 6 years and have seen all these terms a million times but for some reason I needed an explanation of what each meant. In short it means that I do in fact have an aggressive form of invasive breast cancer. After the explanation and seeing the insides of my of body on a million tests, I get to make a choice, a choice I would rather not make. I can take road A, which is a mastectomy followed by radiation to my chest and pray it doesn't come back, doc does not advise doing this. Road B, I can have a mastectomy now followed by chemotherapy and radiation, again doc does not advise doing this or road C, I can undergo 4 months of chemotherapy now, watch the cancer shrink away, have a lumpectomy (just remove the cancer) followed by radiation and again pray it does not return. None of these options leaves me feeling 100% confident, so the surgeon explains to me he favors road C. If, fingers crossed I don't, I were to have a recurrence later on in life the doctors would be able to look back and see exactly what chemotherapy shrunk my cancer, also only being 31 they would much rather do a "breast conserving surgery". I wanted to go with a modified road C. I asked what the chances are he could remove ALL the cancer he said "if i remove your entire breast, I am confident that..." me "take the entire thing, I want it off", he suggests we wait and see exactly how small we can make the 9cm area after chemo, after all I am 31 and he doesnt like to remove the entire breast of a young person. Yeah, well guess what I don't like having cancer being a young person. In true Amy fashion, "I want the entire thing off, my mind is made up", the doc says "hey, I am not gonna argue with you". Maybe he had flashbacks from the day he said the "C" word. So now my course of action will be chemotherapy, starting Thursday, lasting all summer, then another MRI in August, followed by a mastectomy of the right breast and a reduction of the left (apparently being 5'3 they will not give me a D implant to match my remaining tah), and radiation.
I have made up my mind that I will not go into this anticipating being sick, this is not going to be easy on my body or my emotions but this has already taken so much from me and I will not allow it to take anymore. When it hits me I will hit back a thousand times harder, when it takes all my energy from me I will fight through it. If spending the rest of 2011 tired, nauseous, bald, crying, and any other side effect that will come my way means I still get a lifetime with Ryan, Gabby, and Cole, then bring it on. I AM READY TO FIGHT AND WIN!
The first time I met my surgeon was almost 2 weeks ago, when I first met him he was goofy and a little inappropriate. I have seen him go from "stop worrying, this is nothing" to "I am so sorry, I would never have guessed this" in a matter of 2 hours. He sat in his office and joked with my husband about how he picked the right profession, "my favorite time of year is right after spring break, all the college girls drink too much caffeine and find all kinds of lumps", see where inappropriate fits in. He is the man that I yelled at, that I wanted to get out of my chair take him by his Santa Clause looking face and start hitting but, ultimately, he is the man who is going to save my life.
As Ryan and I sat in his waiting room yesterday anticipating hearing what he thought he could do surgery wise, he came strolling through the front door into the waiting room making the announcement "sorry I am late, had to go buy beer", he took us into his office, which by the way all doctors should do this. Exiting the cold sterile exam room and entering into their office, where they have family photos, papers, lunch from earlier, and signs that they are too human is more comforting and personal. He went over all my tests again, an ultrasound, a mammogram, an MRI, a PET scan, a CT scan, a biopsy, another ultrasound, and finally a MUGA scan, and the results; Grade 2 Invasive Ductal Cancer, Estrogen positive, HER2 positive, looks like 1 lymph node is involved, confined to just the right breast (thank the good lord), scattered DCIS and finally some benign calcifications. I have worked in the cancer center for 6 years and have seen all these terms a million times but for some reason I needed an explanation of what each meant. In short it means that I do in fact have an aggressive form of invasive breast cancer. After the explanation and seeing the insides of my of body on a million tests, I get to make a choice, a choice I would rather not make. I can take road A, which is a mastectomy followed by radiation to my chest and pray it doesn't come back, doc does not advise doing this. Road B, I can have a mastectomy now followed by chemotherapy and radiation, again doc does not advise doing this or road C, I can undergo 4 months of chemotherapy now, watch the cancer shrink away, have a lumpectomy (just remove the cancer) followed by radiation and again pray it does not return. None of these options leaves me feeling 100% confident, so the surgeon explains to me he favors road C. If, fingers crossed I don't, I were to have a recurrence later on in life the doctors would be able to look back and see exactly what chemotherapy shrunk my cancer, also only being 31 they would much rather do a "breast conserving surgery". I wanted to go with a modified road C. I asked what the chances are he could remove ALL the cancer he said "if i remove your entire breast, I am confident that..." me "take the entire thing, I want it off", he suggests we wait and see exactly how small we can make the 9cm area after chemo, after all I am 31 and he doesnt like to remove the entire breast of a young person. Yeah, well guess what I don't like having cancer being a young person. In true Amy fashion, "I want the entire thing off, my mind is made up", the doc says "hey, I am not gonna argue with you". Maybe he had flashbacks from the day he said the "C" word. So now my course of action will be chemotherapy, starting Thursday, lasting all summer, then another MRI in August, followed by a mastectomy of the right breast and a reduction of the left (apparently being 5'3 they will not give me a D implant to match my remaining tah), and radiation.
I have made up my mind that I will not go into this anticipating being sick, this is not going to be easy on my body or my emotions but this has already taken so much from me and I will not allow it to take anymore. When it hits me I will hit back a thousand times harder, when it takes all my energy from me I will fight through it. If spending the rest of 2011 tired, nauseous, bald, crying, and any other side effect that will come my way means I still get a lifetime with Ryan, Gabby, and Cole, then bring it on. I AM READY TO FIGHT AND WIN!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Stats
"Cancer makes a woman out of you. After that you become a warrior. Survival is not so much about the body, but rather it is about the triumph of the human spirit"-Danita Vance
One in Eight. That is how many women breast cancer affects. 2.5 million. That is how many breast cancer survivors are currently living in the United States. 75% of women diagnosed with this disease will be told they have Invasive Ductal Cancer, which is my diagnosis, this is the most common form of breast cancer and depending on the hormone receptors, can also be the most aggressive. Fortunately for me I was told my cancer is ER positive, which means it is being fueled by the hormone Estrogen. I have been told that I have the best type to have, is that supposed to make me feel more at ease? Whether I have the best type or the worst type the fact is I am a United States citizen who was diagnosed with breast cancer at 31. In fact, North America has the highest rate of breast cancer in the world. Why is the number 2 killer of women, 46,000 women a year lose their lives to this disease, still on the rise? Susan G. Komen has raised over 1 billion dollars alone for breast cancer research, because of organizations like these treatment for this disease is more successful and more advanced, however, the problem is not the treatment the problem is the detection. You MAY NOT get a mammogram in this country until you are 40 or 35 if you are high risk. THE NUMBER 2 KILLER OF WOMEN AND YOU CAN NOT GET A MAMMO UNTIL 40! Really!! I am fortunate to work for an amazing group of oncologists who got on this right away, I am fortunate to have a breast surgeon who refused to listen to the 40 rule, I am fortunate to have found this at 31. If I waited until 40, well, I may not have made it to 40. There are too many women who are not as fortunate, if your gut tells you something is wrong, even if you feel something, don't take no for an answer. Press for a mammogram, just a side note I had an ultrasound first that showed NOTHING. No woman should have to go through the emotions, sleeplessness nights, and pure terror that I am experiencing. One in eight. Look around you, your group of friends, your family, one in eight. Spread the word, I will fight till I have no fight left in me to make sure that my daughter, my niece, my friends daughters, all young women out there do not go through this.
One in Eight. That is how many women breast cancer affects. 2.5 million. That is how many breast cancer survivors are currently living in the United States. 75% of women diagnosed with this disease will be told they have Invasive Ductal Cancer, which is my diagnosis, this is the most common form of breast cancer and depending on the hormone receptors, can also be the most aggressive. Fortunately for me I was told my cancer is ER positive, which means it is being fueled by the hormone Estrogen. I have been told that I have the best type to have, is that supposed to make me feel more at ease? Whether I have the best type or the worst type the fact is I am a United States citizen who was diagnosed with breast cancer at 31. In fact, North America has the highest rate of breast cancer in the world. Why is the number 2 killer of women, 46,000 women a year lose their lives to this disease, still on the rise? Susan G. Komen has raised over 1 billion dollars alone for breast cancer research, because of organizations like these treatment for this disease is more successful and more advanced, however, the problem is not the treatment the problem is the detection. You MAY NOT get a mammogram in this country until you are 40 or 35 if you are high risk. THE NUMBER 2 KILLER OF WOMEN AND YOU CAN NOT GET A MAMMO UNTIL 40! Really!! I am fortunate to work for an amazing group of oncologists who got on this right away, I am fortunate to have a breast surgeon who refused to listen to the 40 rule, I am fortunate to have found this at 31. If I waited until 40, well, I may not have made it to 40. There are too many women who are not as fortunate, if your gut tells you something is wrong, even if you feel something, don't take no for an answer. Press for a mammogram, just a side note I had an ultrasound first that showed NOTHING. No woman should have to go through the emotions, sleeplessness nights, and pure terror that I am experiencing. One in eight. Look around you, your group of friends, your family, one in eight. Spread the word, I will fight till I have no fight left in me to make sure that my daughter, my niece, my friends daughters, all young women out there do not go through this.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Nighttime
Nighttime used be my favorite part of the day. To me it meant, the day was over, time to put the jammies on and snuggle with kids and relax. Now however, nighttime has a whole new meaning. It now brings fear, sadness, and uncertainty. This is the time I begin to feel sorry for myself, the time I look at Gabrielle and Cole and have to walk away, the time that I break down. When all the world is starting to settle down my mind is gearing up for a marathon of "what if" questions and vivid images. As I said before, I am confident, I am strong but, I am also human, I am scared out of my mind. The even slightest thought of not being here for my kids is the most heartbreaking, terrifying sensation a person can face. I am the girl who refused to put something so simple as Tylenol into her mouth and now I must get poison put into my bloodstream so I can survive. The very thought of chemo makes me nauseous, it makes my heart race, it makes me shake in fear. I am just certain that I will be the 1 in whatever statistic that has a severe allergic reaction, I can not calm that fear or make it go away. All I can do is cross my fingers and pray that everything goes good on Thursday (my first chemo). I am fortunate to work with the best oncology nurses and doctors around here but they can only calm your fears so much. I know in my heart that all will be ok, I am just not really looking forward to being sick, or losing my hair. But hey, I should be coming out of this nightmare by October, which clearly means that I am going to have the BEST Halloween costume and not have to spend any money. What is more frightening for a child to see than a girl handing out candy with no hair, a port, and missing ta's?
March 24, 2011, this is the day my world was flipped upside down. Cancer, how can that be? I am 31 years old, healthy, I don't smoke, I don't drink. I have a 3 and 4 year old, this is not real. The moment the doctor said that 6 letter word it was like a dream, I could hear him talking but I had no clue what he was saying. To say I saw my life flash before my eyes was an understatement, I was numb. I wanted to get up and run out of the office, I wanted to yell at him for saying those words, all I could ask was "am I going to die? I don't want to die, I have small kids". As, the past week has moved by I have been able to stop and answer the one question that has been on my mind constantly, "why me". Me, because I am strong, I am confident, I am a fighter, I am stubborn, I don't play by anyone else's rules, and most importantly I am a survivor. I have always wondered what my purpose in life was, I now have my answer, to beat cancer and then become the biggest advocate and supporter for those who are fighting. I will become the strength for other young moms, wives, and daughters who are told the terrifying news that they too have breast cancer. I am about to embark on the most scariest, hardest, life changing journey ever but, in the end I will have one hell of a story to tell my grandkids.
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