Ouch

Thought I was finished with pain (and complaining about it) didn't you? Nope! A few weeks ago, in my quest to prove to myself that I'm physically back to normal, I did a boot camp class, followed by a TRX personal training session a few days later.

An example of one of the TRX exercises I did, except unlike the lady in the picture,
I was sweating like a beast, grunting, and making faces that would frighten children.

Since both were new to my body, I was understandably sore after each session. Once a few days had gone by, most of my aches had subsided, except for an area in my upper back, on the right side. I let it be for a few weeks, begging Jason for back rubs on a daily basis. Finally I decided to see a chiropractor, Dr. Kristin Schaffer. She's been doing some muscle stimulation and adjusting me every-other day for about a week and a half, and Monday she dropped a bomb on me. Because she's aware of my medical history, she brought up the fact that it was possible (but very unlikely) that my breast cancer metastasized to my ribs. I've heard worse news so I didn't immediately panic; we did an x-ray and sent it off to a radiologist for review.

My motto is that if you catch things early, they can be treated, so of course I made an appointment with Dr. Howe (my oncologist) as soon as I was able to on Tuesday morning. Yesterday afternoon I heard back from the radiologist who said they didn't see anything that they'd be concerned about, but c'mon. With everything I've gone through over the last 8 months, I don't think I'd be able to let this go until I get the green light from Dr. Howe. There has to be some reason for the pain I'm having (I'm rating it one step below expansions, to give you an idea of severity), and until we figure it out, we won't know how to make it go away.

I was a little on edge Monday evening (as you can imagine), but have since calmed a bit - I'm 90% sure I pushed myself too hard at the gym and as a result, gave myself an injury. We'll see what Dr. Howe says at my appointment Friday; until then, it's a nice rotation of heat and ice...

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.

1-2-3 GO!

Today I'm starting tamoxifen.  It's a big day (in my opinion anyway) because it's the starting line to my 5-year marathon to a cancer-free me.  It also starts a 5-year ban on getting pregnant (cancer, you're a jerk).

Of course, here I am, impatiently waiting for Jason to take me to Target so I can get the pills and start them already (it'll just be one/day).  I figure, the sooner I start it, the sooner I can finish.  If you're not familiar with the drug, here's a rundown courtesy of WebMD:

Tamoxifen is used to treat breast cancer that has spread to other parts of the body (metastatic breast cancer) (taking it is precautionary for me; my doctors have assured me that my cancer hasn't spread), to treat breast cancer in certain patients after surgery and radiation therapy, and to reduce the chances of breast cancer in high-risk patients.

This medication can block the growth of breast cancer. It works by interfering with the effects of estrogen in the breast tissue.

Side effects can include:

• hot flashes;
• leg cramps;
• muscle aches;
• hair thinning;
• headache; and
• numb/tingling skin

How lovely!  I'll be a 55-year-old woman stuck in a 28(almost 29, eek!)-year-old's body.  The possible side effects are much better than having cancer; need to remind myself of that, probably once they start kicking in more so than right now though, haha!

Weekend Wrap-Up

Did I mention that I started work again last week?  I was (and will continue for a bit longer) working from home.  It felt great to have my brain back in use after my three weeks "off" but I found myself getting frustrated because of the workload.  It's not a heavy one to say the least - work has been great about easing me back into my duties - but I do feel overwhelmed at times, which I think, is the most frustrating part.  Before all of this, I'd be able to take on what I've got on my plate and then some without blinking an eye; now, I'm distracted and feel really slow.  I'm getting the work done, don't get me wrong, but not at the speed or quality I typically like to produce.  Crossing my fingers that this next week goes a little better!

My "home office" at the dining room table and a
big perk of working from home: catching kitty cuddle sessions :)

 

 

My second tissue expansion on Thursday was a much better experience than the first!  I still had the tight, sore feeling from the first round, but the pain I felt in my ribs was completely absent!  I sneezed once late Thursday night and felt a quick stab, but other than that, my meds did their job and it was tolerable.  Thinking about getting a little crazy this week and bumping it up from 25 to 30 cc's in each side.

We met with a reproductive endocrinologist Friday morning and since, I've been struggling to summarize our experience.  Although the man is a genius who in the past made national headlines for his work with surrogacy (in a good way), his social skills were a little off (i.e. talking to me, as in mentioning something about the age of my ovaries [28 like they're supposed to be, if you're wondering] but looking at Jason while saying it.  Odd. 

Anyway, the reason we met with him was to determine what our options are for starting a family.  Here they are, as clear-cut as I can make them:

1. We harvest, create and freeze embryos now, before I start taking the tamoxifen, and use them either when I'm off the medicine in 5.5 years (it's been suggested that we wait 3-6 months after taking it so the drug is out of my system) or implant the embryos in a surrogate at some point before then.  As you can imagine, this process is extremely expensive (like, needing to with the Powerball before doing it, expensive).
2. We look into adoption.  I wish I could write a paragraph about it, but I've honestly not started doing research on it yet so I can't!
3. We wait 5.5 years (until I'm 34.5) to try for our first child. 

I feel like an 18-year-old again, starting college and trying to foresee where I'll end up in 4-5 years. Most 18-year-olds shouldn't be able to make such major decisions about their future (I put myself in that category); they haven't "lived" enough to know what they want to do when they grow up, and this feels like a similar situation.  How are we supposed to know what's best for us in the next 5 years?  I hate hate hate that there's a time frame pushing us too; if we decide to freeze embryos, we'll need to start the process in the next couple weeks, and I feel like that kind of a decision (and finding a pot of gold) requires more time.

Needless to say, I've had some very emotional moments over the past couple days, and I think that's why I've been delaying a post.  I didn't know what to write.  The thought of waiting for so many years to have a baby is breaking my heart, especially since we were ready for that part of our lives right now.  I'm trying to have patience and generate positives about waiting but are you kidding me?  I'm the most impatient person on this Earth and waiting that long sounds like cruel and unusual punishment (for a crime that I've never committed).

Time to break out the good ole note pad and make a pros/cons list (after researching more about adoption, of course).

Reproductive Endocrinologist

Nerves

You'd think by now I should be over being nervous for doctors appointments.  I'm not.  Jason and I are meeting with my oncologist over lunch tomorrow to discuss further treatment.  I'm hoping and crossing my fingers and toes that the oncotype test results are in so we can include that information as we decide on a plan of attack.

If the results say the cancer is likely to reoccur, I'm looking at some chemo and/or radiation.  If not, then yippee, neither!!  Either way, it's very likely I'll have to be on Tamoxifen.  I can get into the awesome (sarcasm font) side effects of that tomorrow once I know more, but yikes.  Welcome back nerves!

Surgery Day

It's finally here.  I can't say that I'm excited, but I'm very happy we're getting the show on the road and I don't have to spend any more days with it consuming my thoughts.  The next time I wake up, I'll be cancer free :)

I wasn't impressed with myself yesterday.  I was at work wrapping up everything for the next couple weeks and surgery is all I could think about.  I got to the point where I couldn't stop moving, I was almost twitchy.  I broke down on the phone with my dad for a little bit before heading to Erin & Rob's for a family dinner.  The mood there was quiet; I think everyone was feeling the nerves I have.

On the way home Jason and I were completely silent in the car.  There's nothing that can be said at this point to make either of us feel better.  I'm afraid of the pain I'll have in the next couple days and he's afraid something will go wrong with surgery (that's one thing I'm NOT afraid of - my surgeons are awesome).  When we got home, we both just started doing stuff - me inside and Jason outside - to pass the time.  Until this experience I've never been a stress cleaner, but it's been a fabulous distraction.

After crossing off all of the things on my to-do list (extra long for this extra stressful week and a half), I got to packing.  Here's an inside peek at the wardrobe I'll be rocking in the next couple days:

• My awesome post-surgery zip up camisole, complete with pouches for the drain bags
• Grannie panties
• Tube top swimsuit coverups
• Leggings
• Moccassins
• Wrap sweaters and zip-up hoodies
• Cloth headbands

I also threw in a few extra items for my sanity:

• Baby wipes
• Cleansing facial wipes
• Makeup (I'm so vain)
• A brush
• Burt's Bees Rejuvenating Lip Balm
• Throat lozenges (I read that they're helpful)
• A Kindle

My little overnight bag is filled to the brim but I don't care :)

This morning I'm nervous but calm (does that make sense?).  My stomach is churning but I don't feel like I have a panic attack coming on.  It's all out of my hands now, and I need to stay confident that things will be just fine.  Yes the next couple weeks will be hard, but the cancer-free result will make it so worth while.

There's no way I could've gotten through the last week and a half without my family and friends so here's a thank you: the support, love and encouragement you've given me played a tremendous part in my positive attitude.  The dinner, treats, movies, magazines, pedicure, gift basket and clothing are all completely unnecessary, but I appreciate every last bit and will utilize it all in my recovery.

My Jason: This has been an experience I never wanted us to go through.  When I look back at two weeks ago, I see two dumb kids with nothing but a backyard full of weeds to worry about.  Ignorance really was bliss.  There's no other person I would want by my side right now.  You've kept my feet on the ground (we all know how my imagination and hypothetical thinking can get the best of me) and you've been such a solid person to lean on when I need to break down.  Your love is so evident and your calmness is so soothing.  I love you so very much and can never thank you enough for your drop-everything attitude, pre-bedtime "wake me up if you can't sleep" offers to talk, and care I know you'll give me in these next few weeks.

I'm going to be just fine.

This might be it for a few days.  Keep the positive, healing vibes coming my way and I'll be sure to give you an update on how awesome it is having draining tubes coming out of me.

48 Hours to Go

This is too bizarre.  I just looked at the clock on my computer and it's 1:30 on the dot.  48 hours until surgery begins.

One Step Back

Day five of being a cancer patient and I’ve finally hit a wall.  It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, even when getting good tidbits of news here and there.  It’s so funny how some people in my life never had opinions about my breasts and now all of a sudden they do, and aren’t holding back their thoughts.  Yes it may seem drastic to go with the double mastectomy to some people, but they’re not the ones sitting in the chair listening to test results or the statistics from the board certified specialists I’m seeing.  And did I mention, it’s not their breasts we’re going to cut off?  They’re mine, and I think that as a 28-year-old informed, capable adult I have all the right in the world to do whatever I want with them.  I’m going forward with the procedure and I feel 100% confident in that decision.

Will I have kids someday?  I hope to God that I do.  Does that mean mentioning it to my oncologist?  Obviously.  I don’t want to take medicines now that will mess up my uterus or eggs so I’m sterile at the end of this.  Don’t you think the doctors look at my chart, then look at the fact that I’m a happily married 28-year-old and wonder if I’ve thought of having children (it says that I’ve been taking prenatal vitamins in my list of current medicines for crying out loud!)?  They’re bound to start asking those questions, I literally just haven’t had a chance to meet the oncologist yet. The surgeon doesn’t care, neither does the plastic surgeon or the lady at prosthetics. 

Do I know what my insurance deductibles are?  No, I’ve never had anything more than a couple wisdom teeth pulled.  Does that worry me?  Not at all.  Why not?  Because there’s nothing I can do about it at this point.  If it’s $3000, okay.  We’ll have to pay $3000 for this fucked up experience.  If it’s more or less, we’ll pay that too.  I can’t change it and I have too many other things to worry about than to focus on money.

I love you friends and family and I’m so very thankful for your tips and extra questions to ask the doctors.  Please keep in mind though, that any comment that’s not completely positive or uplifting can and will likely be taken the wrong way in my current state of mind.

Still Can't Sleep

​Exhausted.  Up off and on since my last post.  It’s a lot harder to be confident and strong and positive when you’re alone and it’s quiet and dark.

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:

1. (Most important and what I'm hoping for) I'm pregnant and the lump is benign
2. (Pit-in-my-stomach worst fear) I'm pregnant and the lump is cancerous
3. I'm not pregnant and the lump is benign
4. I'm not pregnant and the lump is cancerous

So there's that.  If I'm not pregnant this month that's fine.  Bummer, but there's next month so no big deal. 

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.