Didn't mean for so much time to pass between updates! I feel like I'm finally back on track after spending last weekend in Chicago with some very dear friends (missing the early train Saturday night + daylight savings + early wake-up call Sunday = delirious for days); it felt like a very quick trip but it was fantastic to spend the weekend with such wonderful people!
Once we unpacked and finally got our mountains of laundry taken care of, I was a busy girl this week helping my sister with her invoices (don't worry - no math was involved), having dinner with my gal pals, attending my second Patient Advisory Committee meeting, and celebrating Jason's Uncle's birthday and St. Patrick's Day. Ooof.
The Patient Advisory Committee meeting was an interesting one - they'd sent out a copy of a brochure that we'd be reviewing. The first time I looked it over I was furious - it was addressed to those dealing with breast cancer, and the topic was unnecessary tests (which according to the brochure, included PET, CT, and bone scans). As a survivor, I've been unsuccessfully lobbying my doctors for those tests since the day of my mastectomy - you can never be sure that every cell was removed, and cancer can spread like wild fire. Of course I'd want a scan, if not for preventative steps (if there is a cell somewhere, let's find it now and get rid of it), then simply for my mental health! Peace of mind works a million times better than any drug, and so what if the tests are expensive - that's what I have health insurance for!
I went to the meeting on fire and ready for a hefty debate and was pleasantly surprised that I wasn't alone with my feelings. We had a fantastic discussion and I'm sure the content will be addressed before it goes out to anyone. I left knowing that I'd contributed, helped someone just a little bit, and it felt great!
Showing posts with label Cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cancer. Show all posts
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Thankful
Tis the season to shop, eat, be with friends and family, but most of all: be thankful. I'm usually pretty aware of the things I have in my life that others may not. I was lucky enough to be born into a very loving family, in a country that, among its shortcomings, offers a relatively safe and comfortable place to live and be a young, working woman. I get to vote, choose who I marry (hey there, Jas), and at the end of the day, have the peace of mind that I don't have to worry about where my next glass of clean water is coming from, or how to cure my hunger pains. I live a pretty cushy life.
In the past I've completely taken my health and body for granted. After my scare with breast cancer, I have a whole new level of respect (and thanks) for my physical and mental health. I, unlike many other survivors, don't wake up every morning with my first thought being "I had cancer." Even when I'm flashing, I don't think "I'm hot because of the Tamoxifen, and I'm taking Tamoxifen because I had cancer." I don't think "cancer" when I stretch the muscles in my chest/arms or accidentally run into something because I don't have feeling in my boobs (it happens more than I'm happy to admit). When I do think about it, it still seems a little too crazy to comprehend. Like it was all a terrible dream, except I have the scars to prove that it wasn't (maybe I should seek therapy?!).
I'll never ever forget the fact that I had cancer, but I think it's time for me to move past it. I'm beyond happy to talk about my experiences if anyone asks; however, I feel that dedicating this blog to cancer is facing it in the wrong direction. I need to write about living life despite having cancer, to give others hope that they too can overcome the hurdles and come out the other side healthy, cancer-free, and yes, even thankful for the experience.
I plan to continue to update you fine folks of any support group meetings, doctor appointments, or general aches and pains I have (if I have to deal with it, you're going to know about it), but I'll also be writing about other things going on in my life. If that means I lose readers (all three of you), I want to thank you for sticking with me over the last five months. I hope I was able to raise the awareness you have about your personal breast health (health in general!), or encourage you to spread the word about early mammograms. It's never too early to detect and start treating breast cancer!
Many thanks; I hope you have a wonderful holiday season!
Cassie
In the past I've completely taken my health and body for granted. After my scare with breast cancer, I have a whole new level of respect (and thanks) for my physical and mental health. I, unlike many other survivors, don't wake up every morning with my first thought being "I had cancer." Even when I'm flashing, I don't think "I'm hot because of the Tamoxifen, and I'm taking Tamoxifen because I had cancer." I don't think "cancer" when I stretch the muscles in my chest/arms or accidentally run into something because I don't have feeling in my boobs (it happens more than I'm happy to admit). When I do think about it, it still seems a little too crazy to comprehend. Like it was all a terrible dream, except I have the scars to prove that it wasn't (maybe I should seek therapy?!).
I'll never ever forget the fact that I had cancer, but I think it's time for me to move past it. I'm beyond happy to talk about my experiences if anyone asks; however, I feel that dedicating this blog to cancer is facing it in the wrong direction. I need to write about living life despite having cancer, to give others hope that they too can overcome the hurdles and come out the other side healthy, cancer-free, and yes, even thankful for the experience.
I plan to continue to update you fine folks of any support group meetings, doctor appointments, or general aches and pains I have (if I have to deal with it, you're going to know about it), but I'll also be writing about other things going on in my life. If that means I lose readers (all three of you), I want to thank you for sticking with me over the last five months. I hope I was able to raise the awareness you have about your personal breast health (health in general!), or encourage you to spread the word about early mammograms. It's never too early to detect and start treating breast cancer!
Many thanks; I hope you have a wonderful holiday season!
Cassie
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
November 5
It's the night before my second (and hopefully last) surgery; a day I've been looking forward to since I heard the dreaded "you have cancer" diagnosis from my surgeon. I'm finally here at the finish line; tomorrow's surgery is the last big step in getting rid of the cancer and getting me back to "normal." From here on out (God willing), the only thought of this experience will be the tiny little white pill (tamoxifen) I take each night before bed.
I went back and read some of my early blog posts and I'm so happy that I decided to write all of this down. Somehow I'd forgotten things, major things, that were a necessary part of the process (i.e. the dread I felt when telling my family and friends the diagnosis; the crazy sensation of drain tubes being removed, etc.). There's good and bad there - I don't want to forget all that I've been through because it reminds me of how strong I am, but I think time is softening the details a little (maybe a coping mechanism?). I have to say though - the time leading up to surgery #1 was way scarier than the time leading up to surgery #2. I'm not twitching right now, and I'm 91% calm and collected (the list of things to stress-clean tonight is much shorter than last time ha).
I've come a very long way and have been through hell. I hate that I know so much about the disease, that being pricked with needles has become routine, and that I'm part of a "club" I never wanted to join. I'm ready to not be terrified when wondering if the cancer will come back (something that might take years to get over); to not wake up in pain because I'd accidentally rolled onto my side in my sleep; to feel confident in my clothes again. I am so ready.
Cancer, you've been a very unwelcome shadow in my life for too long. You've ruined the plans I had for starting a family (right now, anyway), you've given me physical and emotional scars that will never go away and you've been a major contributor to an already terrible year. You've shown me paralyzing fear in the "ignorance is bliss" life I'd been living. Any tears I might cry will be out of joy at your absence; please never return.
I went back and read some of my early blog posts and I'm so happy that I decided to write all of this down. Somehow I'd forgotten things, major things, that were a necessary part of the process (i.e. the dread I felt when telling my family and friends the diagnosis; the crazy sensation of drain tubes being removed, etc.). There's good and bad there - I don't want to forget all that I've been through because it reminds me of how strong I am, but I think time is softening the details a little (maybe a coping mechanism?). I have to say though - the time leading up to surgery #1 was way scarier than the time leading up to surgery #2. I'm not twitching right now, and I'm 91% calm and collected (the list of things to stress-clean tonight is much shorter than last time ha).
I've come a very long way and have been through hell. I hate that I know so much about the disease, that being pricked with needles has become routine, and that I'm part of a "club" I never wanted to join. I'm ready to not be terrified when wondering if the cancer will come back (something that might take years to get over); to not wake up in pain because I'd accidentally rolled onto my side in my sleep; to feel confident in my clothes again. I am so ready.
Cancer, you've been a very unwelcome shadow in my life for too long. You've ruined the plans I had for starting a family (right now, anyway), you've given me physical and emotional scars that will never go away and you've been a major contributor to an already terrible year. You've shown me paralyzing fear in the "ignorance is bliss" life I'd been living. Any tears I might cry will be out of joy at your absence; please never return.
Friday, July 5, 2013
Drains Drains Go Away
I'm reclaiming my independence, sort of anyway. Yesterday I was able to successfully shave my armpits AND put my hair in a ponytail. Tasks such as these are pretty simple to the every day lady, but a week after having surgery, with limited range in arm motion, I was pretty pumped I actually did it. How exciting!
I didn't get into the details yesterday because my post was getting a little long, but I'd gotten the pathology report back the other day from Dr. Sanan. He said that he had detected a few cancer cells in the sentinel lymph node he removed, meaning that had we not done the surgery, those cells could've spread to the next level of nodes and further on to the rest of my body. Again, another close call in this crazy ride. And, validation that I 100% made the right decision getting the bilateral mastectomy instead of the lumpectomy.
I'm getting pretty sick of these drains. Not so much the draining part - every time we empty them out it's kind of a guessing game to see how much will be in the cup. Until this morning, I've been producing too much and the doctors don't want all of that excess liquid in my body. The part that's bothersome is where the tubes come out of my sides. They feel bruised and sore and just overall uncomfortable. And because it's Friday, I'll be waiting until my appointment Monday afternoon, even if my drain totals stay where they are, to get them out. Bummer. I can do a few more days, I can do a few more days...
I didn't get into the details yesterday because my post was getting a little long, but I'd gotten the pathology report back the other day from Dr. Sanan. He said that he had detected a few cancer cells in the sentinel lymph node he removed, meaning that had we not done the surgery, those cells could've spread to the next level of nodes and further on to the rest of my body. Again, another close call in this crazy ride. And, validation that I 100% made the right decision getting the bilateral mastectomy instead of the lumpectomy.
I'm getting pretty sick of these drains. Not so much the draining part - every time we empty them out it's kind of a guessing game to see how much will be in the cup. Until this morning, I've been producing too much and the doctors don't want all of that excess liquid in my body. The part that's bothersome is where the tubes come out of my sides. They feel bruised and sore and just overall uncomfortable. And because it's Friday, I'll be waiting until my appointment Monday afternoon, even if my drain totals stay where they are, to get them out. Bummer. I can do a few more days, I can do a few more days...
Friday, June 14, 2013
Happy Thoughts
Results. Results. Results. When will they be in? Will I have to wait
all weekend assuming the worst yet hoping for the best? In my opinion
this could go one of four ways:
I wasn’t planning on it but I'm in the office working today. Thought it would be a good distraction. Happy thoughts happy thoughts. I've asked Lynnea to email me any results if they come in today so I don't have to take a dreaded phone call with my coworkers listening in. I'll hopefully be able to read it in the privacy of our house and react as needed (being positive: I'll probably scream with relief when I hear it's nothing).
Happy thoughts.
- (Most important and what I'm hoping for) I'm pregnant and the lump is benign
- (Pit-in-my-stomach worst fear) I'm pregnant and the lump is cancerous
- I'm not pregnant and the lump is benign
- I'm not pregnant and the lump is cancerous
I wasn’t planning on it but I'm in the office working today. Thought it would be a good distraction. Happy thoughts happy thoughts. I've asked Lynnea to email me any results if they come in today so I don't have to take a dreaded phone call with my coworkers listening in. I'll hopefully be able to read it in the privacy of our house and react as needed (being positive: I'll probably scream with relief when I hear it's nothing).
Happy thoughts.
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