Frayed Knot

There is no "one size fits all" for experiencing grief. 

The same goes for hearing the words, "you have cancer." 

While my level of acceptance was almost immediate, most people will not share my experience. 

With my family history, my breast cancer diagnosis did not come as a surprise but it was still difficult to deal with. 

Once the diagnosis is delivered life takes on a frantic pace with tests, doctor appointments, surgery, treatments etc. 

The learning curve is extremely steep and we often don't have time to really process what is going on. 

The physical side of the healing process is often the easiest. 

The mental and emotional side take time, lots of time. 

I admittedly have a relatively short fuse. I have a tendency to spout off then calm down and think things through but one thing that will really piss me off is keep me angry is hearing a fellow cancer survivor tell me that she has been criticized by "loved ones" (who did not battle cancer) that she's not nice enough to people around her. 

Excuse me but...

Fuck them! 

Until you have endured the surgery, chemo, sat through endless tests and faced the massive world of not knowing if you will live or die, you have NO right to criticize someone. 

Walk a mile in their shoes...etc. 

By now we all know about the stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Depression, Bargaining, Acceptance.  But, it's not a straight line and can look like a frayed knot. 

Cancer patients enduring chemo can go through this with every infusion. 

It is literally a battle that leaves one exhausted, worn down, defeated, physically scarred and fighting for their life. 

The fight changes ones perspective. 

It doesn't end until it's completely over and the patient is declared cured. 

But...there will always be the tiny little morsel of "what if" in the back of the brain that will surface with every odd feeling. 

It never really ends we just do our best to put it behind us and move on. 

Once a person has fought for their life they see the world differently. 

Things that may have seemed important at one time carry less weight or no longer matter and things that may have brought us pleasure in the past can seem shallow now. 

Although anger is an early stage of grief it doesn't mean that it doesn't show up again. In fact, the anger or any of the other stages can surface when we least expect it. 

A mom listening to her kids argue over menial crap like the remote can snap at the kids because, well, who has possession of the remote doesn't matter in the big picture. 

Does this mean you need to walk on eggshells around the patient? No, it does not. However, don't expect your response to be their response. A little grace goes a long way. 

Two years ago I was nearing the end of my chemo treatments and had already undergone a plethora of tests and surgery. I am not the same person I was then. My outlook has changed. 

I have changed. 

Life has changed. 

I am blessed with friends and family who did not lecture me about how I was supposed to be speaking to them. They supported me through the worst time of my life without criticisms about being "nice enough" even when I wasn't. 

Healing takes time. 

I was allowed to feel what I needed to feel and come to terms with the new me. 

It wasn't easy for me and it wasn't easy for them but they did not make it worse with criticisms. 

What's Your Worth

You are not your hair, your ass, your boobs or any other physical trait. It's something that we all need to take to heart and please...don't raise your daughters to believe that their looks are more important than their character.   

A person's self-worth is not determined by their looks. 

If you have defined yourself by your boobs and your hair, get breast cancer and lose both, you will have no self left. 

Not only that but we are so much more than our looks! 

Do you know who you are? What you stand for? What matters most to you? What you are willing to walk through fire for? 

Seriously, cancer treatment is difficult enough without having to redefine who you are in the middle of it. 

Personally, my boobs were too small to be a defining factor and honestly, my hair always irritated me. 

For me, losing both was not a hardship. 

Unlike most other female cancer patients I have met, I liked being bald...especially in the summer. 

Hair is hot. 

I've suffered from hot flashes for seven years and not having hair was such a blessing. It's been a year since my last chemo so it's grown in but I'm still dealing with the chemo curl (feels like standard poodle hair) and once again, I'm sweating. 

But I digress...

Let's talk about self-worth. 

Self-worth and self-esteem are not the same thing. 

According to the University of North Carolina Wilmington "Self-worth is the internal sense of being good enough and worthy of love and belonging from others. Self-worth is often confused with self-esteem, which relies on external factors such as successes and achievements to define worth and can often be inconsistent leading to someone struggling with feeling worthy."

If you want people's take-away to be, "she has a great rack" you are concentrating on the external factors and headed for trouble. 

Unless you have money like Dolly Parton and can get nipped and tucked whenever you feel like, time and gravity are your enemy. 

If you are judging yourself based on your looks your esteem's days are numbered.  

How many times have you heard things like, "Looks can be deceiving"? Just because something looks good doesn't mean that it is. 

Pretty does not always equal good. 

We've all known the person who thinks they are better than everyone because they look better. All of my high school years come to mind. Often the "mean girls" are beautiful but treat others as if they are lesser beings because they aren't as physically attractive. 

Well ladies, just wait until that 30 year reunion! 

A person with a well defined self-worth will not tolerate being treated poorly by others nor with they have to knock others down to elevate themselves. 

Someone with low self-esteem will make poor relationship choices, sabatoge relationships and settle for a bad relationship as a trade for financial security. 

Does this mean that you should never tell your daughters they are pretty? No! 

https://www.psychologytools.com/self-help/low-self-esteem/

Should you emphasize brains and accomplishments over looks? Absolutely! 

According to Cancer.gov 12.9% of the women born in the US will develop breast cancer. 

The number one risk factor for developing breast cancer is... Being Female! 

Yup! You read that right. 

Being a woman is the greastest risk factor of developing breast cancer. In fact, 1 in 8 women will develop breast cancer. 

Think about eight women closest to you...have any had breast cancer? 

Less than 5% of the women who develop breast cancer are linked to genetic mutations all the rest are environmental. 

From 2004 to 2018 breast cancer rose .3% which means that 502,500 more women were diagnosed than in the decade before that. 

Could be that early detection is better but...so much of what is allowed in food, cleaning products and even the water supply is also linked to cancers. 

According to a study published in the National Library of Medicine, "The Surveillance, Epidemiology, and End Results (SEER) Program of the National Cancer Institute (NCI) regularly publishes lifetime risks of being diagnosed with each type of cancer.2 According to these estimates, the lifetime risk of all invasive cancers in the USA is 42.05% and 37.58% for men and women, respectively."

Those are some pretty scary numbers! 

While not all cancers cause external physical changes, many of the treatments do...especially in the case of breast cancers. 

Defining who you are by your physical traits is already a slippery slope to begin with but ladies, with a 37.58% chance of getting a cancer and eduring a treatment that includes chemo, women who have been raised to believe that their worth equals their looks are subject to even greater psychological damage. 

The emotional and mental battle that comes with battling cancer is already hard, let's not make it worse by raising daughters who have a badly defined sense of self to begin with!

Sometimes

Sometimes life is great and sometimes it sucks beyond words. 

This past year has been both. 

I've experienced the love and care of friends in ways that are indescribable. 

I've also experienced pain, suffering and loss. 

It's been a crazy rollercoaster! 

While being diagnosed with cancer was terrible, it did not come as a surprise. My family history of cancers is horrifying. 

The surgery itself wasn't bad but the drain bags were miserable. the one on the left wasn't horrible but the subcutaneous tube on the right sat on a rib and rolled back and forth when I moved. It hurt for two weeks after the drain was removed. 

Then there was the car...The Ford Escape that became the bane of our existence! Ford corp did help but they truly should have footed the bill for the whole thing. It was a collosal nightmare. 

And, don't forget that I hit a deer hours after I borrowed a friend's truck while the Ford was in the shop. 

Yeah...it was a year of memories all right. 

But, there was so much good. 

My openness about my experience led so many women to have their mammograms not the least of whom was my sister. 

Has she waited she would be dying today rather than being a cancer survivor. 

Her one and only mammogram found a lump. The biopsy confirmed her cancer and her life then switched to doctor appointments, consultations, chemo and reconstruction. 

I have mentioned my family cancer history in the past, I wasn't being dramatic. 

My family tree is one headstone after another of people who died of cancer. Fortunately, thanks to education and awareness, many of us have caught it early and are survivors rather than victims. My mom, sister and I are all cancer survivors but...we each had a different type of cancer and do not have any of the genetic markers for breast cancer. 

Soooooo.... Be very careful about what you eat and the water that you drink. 

Personally, I think it's only a matter of time until the scientists either find another DNA link or they discover the combination that causes the breast cancer. Genetic testing for BRCA 1&2 has only been around for 20 years. The strides in genetic testing since then are huge! 

Unfortunately, the biggest detector is the mammogram. 

Yes, it sucks. Yes, it hurts but death from something that could have been stopped early is so much worse. 

So, ladies...Tits up! Get in the damn machine...Just do it. 

Let's get back to the good shall we? 

What was good about last year? 

Hats! 

Normally I am not a hat wearer but, my friends started sending me these awesome hats for when I lost my hair and I started wearing them on chemo days. Then, I continued every three weeks for the Herceptin treatments. 

It took on a life of it's own. 

It became so much more than just a hat. 

I was giving people a temporary relief from their misery. 

And, let's be honest here, chemo is misery. Despite the good-natured humor and insanity that is Vanessa, there were days that I couldn't lift my head off my pillow. I would just sleep or lie in bed and cry. 

The love and compassion I received from friends and family was astounding. It helped me to push through the crap days and appreciate the good ones so much more. 

Not only was I able to make the other patients smile and laugh but the staff laughed at my antics. 

Let's talk about the staff.

From the doctors and nurses to the front office people the shear number of people in the oncologist office and infusion center is amazing. 

While there are many success stories like myself, there are so many others who are there for paliative care. Their days are numbered and they are receiving treatment as a means to delay the inevitable. 

Imagine being the person behind the glass that has to greet people or the doctor that has to tell them there is nothing more that they can do. Or the nurse who sits with them while they have their treatment. 

Their jobs are so very tough. 

Now imagine having the power to make each of those people smile because you put on a crazy hat or wore a silly costume. 

Imagine that you are the person who gives everyone the excited anticipation on "what will she do next?"

I got to be that person. 

It was an honor to be that person. 

My next appointment isn't for three months! Even though it's stopping for a good reason, it feels so strange to having something that has been such a huge part of my life for a year, just stop. 

I get to move on but I will miss the other patients and the staff that I've seen every three weeks for a year. 

Thank you to everyone at the Abramson Cancer Center  in West Chester. You not only saved my life but you did it with humility, humor, love and grace. 

I will forever be grateful for all of you. 

Sharing My Experience

Every three weeks I go to the infusion center for my Herceptin. 

What is Herceptin? 

Herceptin (chemical name: trastuzumab) is a HER2 inhibitor targeted therapy. Herceptin works against HER2-positive breast cancers by blocking the ability of the cancer cells to receive chemical signals that tell the cells to grow. Breastcancer.org.

I don't actually get Herceptin, I get another drug called Kanjinti that is chemically similar and achieves the same result...and they have a copay assistance program which is a huge help financially. 

There is no denying that I am weird, crazy, insane...whatever, but I really do look forward to going to infusions. 

Even when I was getting chemo I looked forward to being there. The staff, nurses and doctors are some of the nicest poeple on the face of the earth. The aftermath of chemo was tough but the people are amazing. 

In anticipation of losing my hair, friends sent me fun hats to wear and I have continued to wear hats or outfits throughout the additional treatments. 

The staff has told me that get excited when they see my name on the roster! They even talk about what they think I'm going to do.

The infusion I had in March was the Friday before St. Patrick's day. I decided it was close enough to roll with that as a theme. . 

I found a really fun headband that blinked and a shirt that said, "Who Needs Luck, I have Charm"

As I was getting into my car I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror, giggled and thought, "I love my life." 

And I do. I really do. 

Looking back at this past year one would questions my sanity. 

Seriously, it's been one shit sandwich after another but...I'm alive! 

I have so much to be grateful for! 

I have a loving hubby, two amazing boys, two incredible businesses, an amazing business partner, and incredible assistant and wonderful, loving friends. I'm on the downhill side of becoming a cancer survivor, I've met some of the most amazing people you can imagine and I have been able to make people laugh in the midst of the turmoil that is cancer treatment. 

Yes, I am blessed. 

I get to make people laugh. 

I look forward to those laughs. 

Working on outfits and themes gave me a purpose during chemo. I was able to focus on how I could be funny instead of feeling miserable. 

And now, I can be a guide for others who are starting on the path. 

I don't have answers but I do have experience that I can share. 

I recently went to see a friend who is going through chemo for ovarian cancer. Her chemo is a different cocktail than mine was but the acid reflux and nausea that it induces is the same. She had been eating Tums to no avail. I brought her a baggie of Gaviscon chewables and told her to take Nexium (after she'd checked with a pharmacist) because it had worked wonders on me. 

Guess what? It works for her too! The Gaviscon is a game changer. That stuff is a miracle in a chewable! 

We sat and talked a just bitched about the ravages of chemo on our bodies and the irritation of chemo brain - it's real people!

I was able to commiserate as I'd "been there done that" already and my experience was close enough to offer hope that this too shall pass and she can get on with life. 

I also gave her a super fun shirt. When she pulled it out of the little gift baggy I had stuffed it into she laughed. 

Making her laugh made my heart happy! 

Laughter Is Medicine

Going through chemo has been the most amazing and weirdest experience of my life. 

It has given me the ultimate excuse to unleash my weird but also has given me an appreciation for the importance of attitude and the need to laugh. 

Not just an LOL that we all use, that really means smiling softly to myself, but true "guffaw" style laughter that makes your stomach hurt and your eyes water. 

If you've known me for oh, like five minutes, you know that I have a really odd sense of humor and work really hard to not take myself seriously. But this experience has shown me that my attitude can, and does, have a direct impact on others. 

Whether other patients or the medical staff, I love to make people laugh. 

Two weeks ago I arrived at chemo dressed in a chicken headband and beak  - Chemo Chicken- and handed out slingshot chickens. I gave them to all the patients and the staff and watched as people shot them at each other. 

It was great fun. 

Patients told me last week that their kids and grandkids were still playing with the chickens! 

The staff has told me that they love when I come in and that, after a whole week of working with cancer patients, they look forward to my being there. 

Those words are the wind beneath my wings. (See what I did there?)

I love to help people and I love to know that I've had an impact. 

Don't we all. 

When all is said and done in this life, is the cleanliness of our house or the model of our car what people will remember or will it be how they felt when they were with us?

We all know that "Debbie Downer" (sorry if your name is Debbie) person who sucks the happy out of a room. I want to be the sunshine in the room. The person who makes people happy when they walk in. 

And why not? When they laugh, I laugh. Let's be honest here, sometimes I laugh the hardest. Did you know that laughter really is good medicine? 

No, really, it is! 

According to HelpGuide.com Laughter can: 

• Boost your immune system
• Relax you
• Release endorphins
• Improve heart health
• Reduce stress
• Burn calories 

Evidently I need to laugh more 'cause I got some pounds to lose. 

Seriously though, with all those benefits who wouldn't want to laugh more? 

But honestly, it can be really difficult. Not all circumstances are funny and, despite my propensity to do so, not everything is a laughing matter. 

The question that matters is: How can I improve this situation or the situation of the lives of the people around me? 

Recently, my best friend's mother passed away. Although it was sad to lose her, she lived a great, long life, was well loved by her enormous family and had a wonderful impact on everyone she ever met. 

At the funeral my friend had a tough time collecting herself. When I arrived she was surrounded by a bunch of people who were telling her to breath and trying to calm her. 

Yeah...worst thing ever! 

What she needed was "Vanessa's Crazy" to get her out of her own head, not advice on how to calm herself. She already knew she was our of sorts and didn't need to hear it. Telling someone they need to calm down, even when they do, is the worst. 

Truly, has anyone ever actually calmed down at the mention of their need to do so?  

I jumped in, inserted my wacky sense of humor (that we share) and in short order I had her laughing and joking and was able to help her get through the viewing and funeral. 

She has been there for me for most of my life and I was more than glad to help her through that day and others. We've been BFFs for almost 40 years. We know each other inside and out and all I have to do is call her, tell her I'm having a crappy day and before I know it we are laughing hysterically. 

Recently my "little" sister was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent a double mastectomy today. It was a really long surgery, nearly 8 hours long, but is over and she is being moved ICU for the next night or two. 

While I have not been worried about the surgery I was VERY worried about the pathology. Working on becoming a cancer survivor myself, all I really cared about was what her margins are and whether or not her nodes were clear. 

I do not know about the margins or the rest of the surgical pathology yet, that may be weeks, but the nodes were clear! 

Whew! 

Now I can breath and she can get on with healing. 

Her surgery was much more extensive than mine so her healing time will be much longer and more complicated but, at least she's off to a good start. 

Because of the stupid virus, only her husband will be allowed to visit. In fact, she wasn't even allowed to have him there for the pre-op stuff. 

The stress of bein alone was horrible for her.

So, of course, I called her this morning and got her to laugh. We stayed on the phone talking about how much I tortured her when she was a kid, laughing of course, until her doctor came in. After that things moved quickly and before she knew it she was off to surgery. 

I will sleep a little better tonight knowing that my sister is through the surgery and resting well. There will be crappy days of tears and doubt ahead and I will hold her hand when possible or just be an ear on the other end of the phone. I also know the pain she is headed for and will be ready with funny memes and anecdotes to take her mind off things. 

Most importantly, I will make her laugh. 

Just Loud

Throughout my diagnosis, surgery and current chemo treatments, people have referred to me as "brave," a label with which I am not comfortable. 

Merriam-Webster defines brave as: "having or showing mental or moral strength to face danger, fear, or difficulty : having or showing courage."

I don't see myself as brave or courageous. 

Great figures in history that I think of when I hear brave are: 

• Harriet Tubman leading slaves to freedom on the underground railroad
• Martin Luther King
• Irena Sendler — a Polish social worker who helped save some 2,500 Jewish children from the Nazis by smuggling them out of the Warsaw Ghetto 
• Combat soldiers
• Firefighters
• Police
• Anyone willing to put their life on the line for the betterment of others

I just talk about what is going on in my life and encourage others to go to the boob squish machine. 

I know, I know...it sucks, it hurts, it's uncomfortable but it's necessary. 

It's not bravery. It's a test. 

Someone recently asked how I was and I gave them the standard answer, "I'm good. Steroids get me through the weekend. The fatigue at the beginning of the week is pretty severe but my staff is amazing. They have everything covered so I can nap when I need too. The meds keep my tummy issues mostly under control."

He responded with, "You poor thing." 

I snapped back with, "Don't talk to me that way." 

And I meant it. 

I am not a "poor thing." 

What I am going through is temporary, manageable and I have a light at the end of the tunnel. 

There are many that will never see the end of treatment. 

They will lose their battle. 

In this regard, I am blessed. 

The cancer was stage one. I will beat this and move on. 

I am not brave, I am just loud. 

If God chose me and my big mouth so that I can spread the word and help to save others, then I am honored to be his messenger. 

Imagine God have enough faith in your faith in Him to make you a messenger.

What! How incredible is that? 

What I am talking about here is perspective. 

I am not a victim. 

I am a weapon, a warrior, a fighter. 

I don't wear battle armor, I have a big mouth, shaved head and pencilled on eyebrows.

Truth be told though? Being bald does make me feel pretty badass.

I'm really liking the bald head. 

It's cooler in the summer, takes no time at all to get ready when we go out and...think of the money I'm saving on hair care products. Ha! 

I am having a great time with pictures of my bald head. 

After my chemo treatment last week, Glenn needed to go to his office and I needed to make a stop at Hobby Lobby for supplies. 

I scored a pair of Yoda sunglasses!!!

Once we were in the car I pulled them out to put them on and Glenn was mortified. 

It was the only time since we met that he wasn't a super aggressive driver. He was so embarrassed that he was hanging back so people wouldn't see us, well, me.  

I don't know what his problem was, my name is on the back of the car! 

Anyway...we got stuck at a notoriously long red light. He was really irritated and grumbling about it. 

While still wearing the Yoda glasses, I put my hand on his arm and said, "Alright you will be."

He tried to not to laugh, but in the end couldn't help himself, and we had a great laugh together. 

I still have 7 more weeks of chemo ahead but I have five behind me. Each week I get closer to getting my life back. 

It's just a path I need to take and I will walk it with God lighting the way. 

With a little humor and a lot of faith, alright I will be. 

Two Down, Ten To Go!

I've had two chemo treatments so far. 

Honestly, the chemo treatments themselves aren't bad. In fact, it's pretty relaxing!

Having the port installed was not relaxing despite the drugs they gave me. 

They put me under conscious sedation which means that I was still sort of awake but didn't care. 

The problem is that lidocaine and novacaine wear off super fast in my body. The doctor had to give me extra lidocaine half way through the procedure. 

I did warn him that this was going to be necessary but I don't think he took me as seriously as he should have. 

After the port was installed I was sent back to the pre-op/recovery area where my wonderful friend Julie waited for me. 

Julie is an amazing person who is a retired oncology nurse. She answers all my questions and keeps my anxiety riddle brain at ease. 

Julie and I met a couple of years ago when she was assigned to my Mother's of Preschoolers (Mops) group as our Mentor Mom.  

Mops is an amazing Christian based program that brings moms together to help one another through, what is undoubtedly, one of the hardest times of life. Although the boys are going into third grade now, I have been a member of Mops since before they were one year old.  

Mops has been my lifeline for years! 

I thought I was going to go insane from the isolation, when Covid ravaged the coutry and forced us all into quarantine. To help keep what little sanity I have, Julie started coming to my house once a week with a bag chair, a cup of coffee and a blanket so that I could have company. 

We would sit out in the sunshine on the lawn and just talk.

We have continued to meet weekly and Julie was one of the first people I called when I was diagnosed. 

Surgery, chemo, port installations, etc. are really scary when you have no idea what is going on. 

Julie is the calm in my storm these days. 

I can message her with the dumbest stuff and she never criticizes me. She just answers my questions and makes me feel normal. Not an easy task, I can assure you!

Because Glenn was going to be taking me to chemo that week, I asked if Julie could bring me to get the port put in. I'm so grateful that she was there. She understands things that neither my hubby nor I do. 

The port hurt like hell! 

It was so bad that night, I almost vomited while trying to eat dinner. 

So, of course, I called Julie! 

It really wasn't the actual port that hurt. What was bothering me was the area on my neck where they accessed my artery and then pressure dressed it with a folded up gauze pad and tegaderm (clear plastic medical tape). The gause pad was putting so much pressure on my neck that I could feel it when I swallowed and it hurt to move. 

They closed the area with surgical glue so I didn't even need the pressure dressing. We decided that removing that part would be ok. 

I washed my hands, got out the Neosporin band-aids and got to work. 

After the gauze had been removed and replaced with the bandaid most of the pain in my neck went away. 

The purple thing and the catheter are under my skin. In the picture above, the stuff on the top is the needle and catheter through which the drugs flow. 

The port is on my chest, the catheter goes into my carotid artery. 

The port is fantastic! They can draw blood through it and also give the drugs through it. No more poking my arm everytime they need blood. 

The reason everything is taped up in that picture is that after they finished installing the port they left the needle in (accessed) so that I didn't have to endure a needle stick the next day when I started the chemo. 

While I am very grateful to have it, the first few days of having the port in were terrible. According to the doctor I had "higher than normal bruising/swelling" which was most likely contributing to the discomfort. 

Evidently I'm special! 

The neck is a pretty tight place and a little swelling goes a long way. 

Exaserbating things was the fact that the Tegaderm ate my skin...literally. My skin came off when they removed the tape and the tape has to be removed to remove the needle. 

By the following Friday (Chemo day 2) almost all of the swelling was down, most of the bruising was gone and Julie reminded me to use my Emla cream prior to going in for my infusion.   

Emla is a prescription lidocaine cream. It is heaven in a tube! 

I squirt a blob onto my skin on the top of the port then apply plastic wrap. The plastic keeps the cream from getting absorbed into a bandage or gause pad and numbs the area. It worked like a charm! I didn't even feel the needle when she put it into the port! 

As I mentioned earlier, chemo is a pretty chill event. The nurses are super nice! Each patient has their own TV, Wifi is free and there is a volunteer who gets us beverages and snacks.  The pumps unplug and have a four hour battery runtime which allows us to walk around if we want to and we are free to go to the bathroom whenever we need. 

Most people (myself included) picture chemo with lots of vomiting and horror stories. While vomiting does happen for some patients, it doesn't happen there. It usually takes a couple days for the drugs to work their way into the system. 

People don't vomit the moment the drugs start flowing. 

Most of us sleep or watch TV. Some people can even work and bring laptops. 

I sleep :) 

The order of my infusion is: Steroids, Benedryl, Taxol, Herceptin. 

The steroids give me great energy for the next couple of days but it doesn't kick in right away. The Benadryl is precautionary to keep me from having a reaction to the Taxol. Taxol is the chemo drug and the Herceptin is the Her2 blocker. From when I arrive to when I leave it's approximately four hours. 

Usually I fall asleep once the Taxol is started and sleep until the Herceptin is almost finished. 

Glenn drives me to chemo then goes to Wawa and picks up lunch. 

We eat lunch together then I pass out. 

Last week he ran errands while I was sleeping. 

By 3-4pm on Friday I am feeling pretty good and by evening the steroids have me FLYING!!! 

I can clean the house, fold the laundry, finish cakes, bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan! LOL! 

Unfortunately, sleeping on Friday nights is also an issue. 

That issue is usually gone by 2pm on Sunday. 

Once the steroids wear off, I crash. 

Mondays are tough because my energy is low and the chemo fatigue sets in. 

 I have dubbed Tuesdays "Taxol Tuesday" as that's when the tummy issues start. 

Taxol Tuesday's Breakfast of Champions is coffee, toast, Immodium and Zofran. 

The Taxol creates issues bad enough that I need to take 1/2 and immodium every day but I increase that to a full one on Monday and Tuesday. 

I am blessed that the Zofran is doing it's job and I have not thrown up...yet. 

Each week is different so we'll see. 

The other charming side effect is acid reflux. 

OMGness it's horrible! 

Nexium makes 20 mg mini-capsules. I take one in the morning and one in the evening to combat the heartburn. (Just FYI - if you are undergoing chemo don't add anything unless you check with a pharmacist to make sure you won't have a bad reaction with the chemo drugs). 

I still have my hair. They keep telling me that it's going to fall out. I was going to get it cut then thought, "Why waste the money?" So, it's an unruly mop! 

As I've mentioned previously, I have a love/hate relationship with my hair. Mostly hate. It's been the one constant that has driven me crazy for most of my life. 

I'm ready to not have to deal with it for a while.  

I decided to go to church on Sunday since the mask mandates have been fully lifted. While getting ready I took and shower and had to shave my legs. 

I was so annoyed! 

All I could think of was, "Can we hurry up the hairloss thing?"

Robotic Box Checker

I thought I was going to get my drains out last week.

I was wrong. 

Unbeknownst to me, the total drainage per side needs to be below 30 cc per day for two days consecutively. Not knowing this, I arrived at the surgeon's office only to be informed, rather snippily by the nurse, that I was not going to be having them removed that day, the next day or probably not until the following week.

When I questioned why she said that I was draining more than 30cc's for the day. When I replied that I didn't know that she said, "I asked you when you called this morning." 

Technically she did. However, she did not ask, "Are you under 30cc's for the day?" What she asked was, "Are you under 30cc's?" I replied that when I emptied the drain that morning it was less than 20cc's. 

She got nippy. I got snippy right back and said, "You'll have to excuse me. This is the first time I've had my boobs cut off so I have no idea how things are supposed to work."

Then I had a massive meltdown... and the nurse got a lot nicer.

But, I still spent the day in bed crying. I was devastated. 

The drains hurt. 

I mentioned previously that the drain on the right was killing me. It was super painful and as it healed it got worse. Add suction pain to the drain pain and I was completely miserable. Seriously, it felt like my skin was being sucked into my chest. 

Sleeping has been nearly impossible which has contributed to my deteriorating emotional state and increased depression. Two antidepressants a day did little to help me. 

Don't get me wrong, I could and did, push through most days but all it would take was a pin to drop and I was off and blubbering again. 

I'm not the worst at asking for help but I'm not the best either. 

Fortunately for us, people have been better at helping than I have been at asking. 

Dinner has been delivered every other night by an army of friends and neighbors. The kids have had transportation provided and extra play time at friend's houses so I could rest and my staff has been UNBELIEVABLE! 

Honestly, I couldn't ask for better employees! I want to go into detail about these women but I will save that for another day and give them the full post they deserve. 

Fast forward to this week and my drains were removed on Wednesday...finally. 

We arrived at the surgeon's office and checked in. 

The nurse (same one) came around the corner and told Glenn that he couldn't come in. I responded with another  massive meltdown...like snot bubble, hyperventilate meltdown. 

Persistent pain is exhausting. I was worn out and clearly incapable of controlling my emotions.

Fortunately she relented, let him come with me and my drains were removed. 

The left one was uncomfortable but the right (the one that's hurt the whole time) hurt like hell! The nurse had to stop halfway through removing it so I could take a break. 

She also removed the steri-strips from the surgery and it looks so good! The incision is still a little wrinkly but it's flattening out a little each day. 

I did apologize for being such a nut job in the waiting room. She told me it was ok and went on to explain that since she was in the room alone she was afraid of having my husband pass out (something that has happened with spouses before) and she would not be able to take care of him and pull the drains at the same time. 

She told me I didn't need to apologize but I did again anyway. I do feel badly. 

Without the drains in, both my demeaner and my range of motion are improving. I'm not crying at everything and I even helped on some of the cakes this week! 

Maybe I'll even be able to fold the massive pile of clean laundry that has accumulated in the house. 

Yippee. <snark>

Glenn washes and dries but doesn't fold. 

After lunch we met with my oncologist, Dr. Tedeschi at Penn Medicine. 

Before the doctor came in a technician came to take my weight, temp, oxygen level etc. then began asking the barrage of general questions. The best one was, "Are you experiencing pain?" Glenn snorted, I laughed and said, "I just had my drains removed, so today is probably not the day to ask." She looked at me like a deer in headlights and asked, "So you have pain?" I replied, "Yeah, yeah I have pain." 

Then she asked...

Wait for it...

...

"Where?"

"Where they cut my boobs off!" I snarked. 

Really?!

C'mon people! I understand that these are trained individuals but seriously, can we bring back common sense?! They are not just trained but over-trained an incapable or not allowed to think for themselves. 

It was like speaking with a robotic box-checker. 

The Oncologist was a different story! I really like her. She is smart, funny, compassionate and has common sense! 

She didn't brush my concerns aside about having two businesses and needing to be as available as possible. When discussing the chemo schedule and possible side effects she made the suggestion of Fridays for infusion. This way if I have a negative reaction to the chemo my down days would be Sunday and Monday when the store is closed anyway and I wouldn't have to worry about finding someone to cover my hours. If it goes well and I feel up to it, I can have the infusion in the morning and then work in the afternoon! 

If I don't have any reaction to the chemo, I can switch my infusion days to Tuesdays in Kennett Square vs Friday's in West Chester. The difference in drive time is about 25 minutes each direction so being able to move to Kennett Square would be fantastic! 

Dr. Tedeschi did say that I would probably lose my hair. I replied, "Well, a summer without shaving can't be all bad right?!" She looked me in the eyes, smiled and said, "I like you. We're going to get along really well." 

I know for some losing their hair can be very traumatic. Truth be told? I'm sort of looking forward to not having hair. I've had a life-long love/hate relationship with the stuff. It is extremely frizzy. I once even had a hairdresser refer to it as fuzzy! Not having to deal with it at all might be a welcomed change for a few months. 

Now onto the chemo regimen....

I will be having Taxol + Herceptin infused via a port once a week for 12 weeks and then just the Herceptin once every three weeks for the remainder of the year. 

Many people are familiar with the chemo cocktail of ACTH. This stands for chemotherapy medicines Adriamycin, Cytoxan (chemical name: cyclophosphamide), and Taxotere (chemical name: docetaxel), plus Herceptin.

ACT is much more harsh than just the Taxol and comes with so many more side effects. I am feeling very lucky. Studies have shown that, in patients with clear nodes and a mass less than 2 cm, there is no benefit in receiving the ACT with H and that Taxol plus Herceptin is just as effective. Had the mass been larger or the nodes hadn't been clear my treatment would be the ACTH. 

Chemo will start on June 25. 

When we walked through the door after the appointments on Wednesday the boys greated us with, "Did they take them out?" I pulled my shirt up to show them that the tubes were indeed gone. They both cheered enthusiastically and for the first time in almost two weeks I got to fully hug my kids. 

Something I hope to be doing for many, many, many years to come. 

A Carpenter's Dream

Warning, There are post surgical pictures in this post. 

Surgery went great. 

Even my pre-op anxiety wasn’t as horrible is it normally can be. Most likely because I talked about it...to everyone! 

The morning was a little insane. We left the house late, hit traffic and arrived at the hospital late. So late, in fact, that registration called to make sure I was on the way 🤦‍♀️ 

After they took me into the pre-op room, I got changed, threw out my bra and they took my vitals. The doctor came in to see me, review what was going to be done and answer questions. Then I waited for about an hour to go to nuclear medicine to get injections in the cancer boob so they knew where the sentinel nodes were. 

The trip from pre-op to nuke med was interesting. Nuke med is in the old building of the hospital and pre-op is in the new wing. I was literally wheeled down main hallways. Never one to miss an opportunity, I was waving at people like I was in a parade. 

I’d be lying if I said the injections didn’t hurt like hell. My doctor said they shouldn’t be bad, other cancer patients said to prepare for the pain. Glad I was prepared! 

By now I was winding up and could feel it so when the “Happy Juice Guy” aka anesthesiologist came in I asked for something. They gave me a little Ativan to help me relax. It worked. 

Next thing I knew I was I’m my room waking up. I got to see Glenn before he went home to be with the boys. 

In addition to the nuke med that lit up my nodes, my breasts were injected with a blue dye so they knew where all the tissue was that needed to be removed. We were told that the dye would make my pee blue and they were not kidding!! 

I am the consumate boy mom who appreciates a good "Wooooow!" moment. After I peed the first time that night I had the nurse give me my phone so I could take a picture of it. Seriously, it was way darker than I anticipated. I sent the picture to Glenn and the boys and we all had a great laugh. 

The rest of the night was uneventful, I got some good sleep and my doctor even had to wake me up the next morning when she came in to check me out. 

A hematoma had developed on the right side so she had to press on the skin to move the fluid to the drain tube. Fun fact: when they cut off the boobs they take the nerves so, although she had to push on my chest, I could only feel pressure not pain! 

I was discharged that afternoon and headed home to relax. 

On the way out I was being wheeled past the nurses station and one of them said, "You need to wave on he way out, you waved on the way in." 

I can totally see myself doing that...So I waved good-bye. 

Since I opted to not have reconstruction I do not have expanders in my chest. Pain is minimal and controlled with just Acetaminophen (Tylenol). 

The drains...Ugh! 

I know these things are necessary but man are they a pain in the ass! 

The tubes come out just below where the bottom of my breast was and the tube wraps up into the skin area in a big circle. The part of the drain that is under the skin is perforated to allow the fluids to drain into the bulb (referred to a grenade at the nurses station :) and the tube is so much longer than I thought it would be! 

There is a plug at the top of the bulb that I open to empty out the fluid into a measuring cup so I can record the amounts and then the bulb gets squeezed before the plug is put back in. Doing this creates a suction that draws the fluid out of my body. 

As heal I form clots that are a total pain to remove from the lines. Sometimes they move themselves sometimes they don't. 

The compression bra they gave me was too tight. The band around the bottom had to be cut so that it wouldn't dig into my skin and some jackass decided that since it's a bra it had to have lace around the edges.

Seriously...Lace? WTF?!  On a good day lace can cause chaffing. Why the hell would someone put it on a post-surgical garment?! No doubt someone that has never had this particular surgery and didn't have to be in the thing 24/7. 

The other added benefit of the lace is that it gets stuck in the velcro. Because, you know, when you have tubes hanging out of your body AND limited arm motion you want to have to detangle the lace from the velcro at the top of the already uncomfortable bra! 

Anyway...

This is how the drain looks under my skin on the left side of my chest. 

There is some bruising (remember no nerves, no pain), which is to be expected but the incisions are amazing! I am so happy with the way everything looks. As the fluid decreases things are flattening out. 

One friend even told me I'm his "favorite 2x4"...

Flat as a board! 

OMGness! I am so glad I wasn't drinking when I got that text or I would have spewed magic bean water out of my nose. 

Mom told my that makes me a Carpenter's Dream! LOL

I wish I could say that the worst is over but unfortunately that is not the truth. Sadly, having my boobs cut off was the easy part. 

Chemo looms on the horizon. 

I will most likely feel sick and lose my hair. They will give me anti-nausea meds to help with the tummy issues but, I gotta tell you, the thought of a summer without the need to shave is a bit exciting. 'Cause you know that you don't just lose the hair on the head...

Yeah...NO BIKINI RAZOR RASH!!! 

Talk about a silver lining!

If I look hard enough there is always something good. 

What's been the best part of this so far? 

Love.

So many people have sent encouraging messages, prayers, gifts, flowers and have jumped in to help us out. We don't have to worry about food for weeks, the kids transportation is arranged and nurse friends have come over to check out my incisions and drain tube areas to make sure that everything is ok and there are no infections. 

As a result of all the prayers, love and support we've received I've been able to heal at a very rapid rate. 

We are blessed. 

Withdrawal from the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk

Since my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and has undergone surgery, chemo and radiation my breast cancer awareness has been heightened.

I, like most people, wasn't overly worried about the breast cancer issue until it hit a loved one. So, when a friend contacted me to say that she would be walking again this year and wanted me to join her I decided that I would.

I emailed my friends and requested donations, began taking frequent walks and even got the treadmill hooked up in the basement to train for the walk. 

I have the best friends in the world! Almost overnight I raised close to $1000 and within a couple of weeks was up to 4.5 miles on a daily trek.

To be honest, I did know that SGK donated to Planned Parenthood but I've had many friends who have used PP, not for abortions but for general gynecological services. For this reason and because of my desire to do something to help with breast cancer research I was willing to move past my concerns and do The Walk.


Then the Planned Parenthood videos came out.

I began thinking about The Walk and where the money would go and I knew that I would have to withdraw.


As a woman who has struggled with fertility I cannot fathom the idea of killing a child because it was perceived as a mistake. There is a lot of crap out there about a woman's "right" to kill her child, also referred to as "a woman's choice." How about making the choice to not have sex or to use birth control rather than having an abortion as a form of birth control? A little responsibility up front would be nice to see, but I digress.

Abortion is by no means a black and white issue. While I believe that killing a child is wrong, I do understand that in cases of rape, incest and a true medical threat to a mother there may be few alternatives. My heart goes out to those ladies as it can't be an easy decision. However, to use abortion as a means of birth control is wrong and for an organization to profit from the sale of the aborted babies makes me want to puke.

Since being outed Planned Parenthood has been less than contrite. Their way of dealing with it was to take The Center For Medical Progress to court to block the release of additional videos, not to apologize for committing an illegal act.

It's bad enough that they are considered to be an abortion factory, with 149 abortions being performed to every 21 adoption referrals (see Lies, Corruption and Scandal), but to be a willing participant in the trafficking of aborted baby parts is abhorrent.

Since there are "8,735 licensed mammography facilities in America and Planned Parenthood operates exactly zero," (The Federalist) I see no need for Susan G. Komen to provide Planned Parenthood with one penny never mind millions of dollars.

For the Susan G. Komen Foundation to know about Planned Parenthood's illegal organ trafficking and not sever ties makes them as guilty as a man who watches a rape and does nothing to stop the rapists.

For me to participate in an event that will raise money to eventually end up in the hands of people who kill babies and then sell their body parts for profit goes against almost everything I believe in.

For that reason I have withdrawn my registration, contacted all of my donors to let them know what I have done and why, and have sent them the contact information of the person responsible for refunding their money should they wish to do so.

I have no doubt that I will sleep much better tonight. 

Breadcrumbs

I went to logon today and Blogger informed me that my last post was on January 28, 2015. Really? Where have February, March and now April gone.

Life is a blur!

Just before Christmas my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. In fact, it was four years to the day that we had the memorial service for my dad that mom was told that she was now a cancer patient.

She called me right away.

It was not the news we were expecting but given what it was it could have been worse.

Surgery was inevitable as was chemo. What type of chemo was where the big questions were and after two consultations with different oncologists she chose to do the one that was four treatments vs six.

We call it "chemo light."

There have been ups and downs and now that she is headed into the final treatment we are all breathing a hesitant sigh of relief and we begin to plan for the future.

Interestingly, when a family member is undergoing a treatment that takes place every three weeks, life begins to exist in three week chunks and before you know it, time has flown by at an amazing rate!

Lump that in with a home based cake business, part-time weekend job, twin two-year-olds and being a wife and mommy and there are never enough hours in the day and the house is always a mess.

I was never the type to keep a spotless house but I was never this bad before!

As much as I love my weekend job, I really miss weekends with my family.

My not being home to cook dinner has become a stressor between hubby and me and a constant issue that is best solved by my calling Dominos Pizza or bringing home Chinese.

After many evenings of arriving home to cranky kids and a stressed out hubby at 6:45 I finally told him that he really needs to figure out the whole making dinner thing so that we're not eating at 7:30 or 8 o'clock when I've finished making dinner.

In truth, it pissed me off to work all day and then have to make dinner when I arrive.

One weekend, in an attempt to ease this stress, I made a pan of pasta stuff (it's like lasagna only easier to make) and all he had to do was heat it up in the oven...which he did not do.

Argh!!!

I finally informed him that his inability to cook dinner was getting under my skin and it wasn't fair to the kids to make them wait so long to eat dinner either. We discussed the things that he could do that fell under his "I don't cook" limitations and I thought we had it settled.

I had another thought coming.

One night on my way home from work my phone chimed with a "what should I do for dinner?" message.

Sigh...

I replied (via voice to text) that there was chicken thawed in the refrigerator and he could put bread crumbs on it and put it in the oven or do it on the stove.

"How do I get the breadcrumbs on the chicken?" was his response.

Lord help us all!

A few weeks later on my way to work I received a text from hubby asking if he was supposed to peel kiwi fruit. I replied (again using the voice to text function on my phone) "Yes." He then asked if it was bad if you didn't to which I replied that it "was inedible." (I mean really, have you looked at it? It's liked eating velcro!)

Anyway, he asked me in what way it was it inedible at which point I lost it and was yelling at Siri to send a text message telling hubby to find a flipping knife! He sniped back that one of the boys had eaten it and wanted to know if they would be ok.

Oy vey...

Yes they will be fine but he might want to state that little tidbit first! He said I should have just answered the simple question and I replied telling him that he was right but that he was the man who asked "How do I put the breadcrumbs on the chicken?"

A Language Unto Itself

Four and a half years ago, mom, siblings, niece and nephews, cousins and an aunt and uncle accompanied my dad to the hospital to have his cancerous bladder removed. The doctor never got the chance. The cancer had grown so fast that it had breeched the bladder wall and invaded his abdomen.

He was opened and closed.

When the doctor arrived in the waiting area 45 minutes into what was supposed to be a 4-6 hour surgery I look at him and said, "Oh shit! This can't be good."

After my dad regained consciousness in the recovery room my mom and siblings stood at his side as the surgeon delivered the death sentence.

It was one of the worst moments of my life.

Prior to that surgery date, my mom and I has taken dad to meet with an Oncologist in Baltimore and I remember sitting in that little exam room listening to the doctor tell my dad what types of chemicals they were going to pump into him.

I took copious notes and studied up on all of the lingo associated with chemo.

We could never get him strong enough to endure the chemo. He opted to just have the surgery but even that was not an option.

He died less than two months after that Oncology appointment.

Cancer: 1 My family: 0

Two weeks ago, my siblings and I accompanied my mother to the hospital outpatient wing to have a lumpectomy that would remove the breast cancer that had invaded her body.

After my mom was taken into the prep area and well, prepped, my siblings and I were escorted back to stay with her until the took her into surgery.

As I entered the pre-op area I had a flashback of the recovery area we walked into four years ago. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and telling myself, "Not the same, not the same."

She came through surgery with flying colors and, despite arguing with me about almost everything, had recuperated very well.

Tie score!

Today we sat in an exam room in the same complex where we had taken my dad in Baltimore and listened to another doctor describe the toxins they were going to pump into my mother.

Oncology is a language unto itself.

One I had hoped to never have to learn...again!

There are two standard types of chemo that would work for my mom based on her hormone receptors and her HER2...still not entirely clear on that but it has something to do with proteins...and how they attack the ducts and breast tissue.

There is no such thing as good chemo but one protocol is a little tougher to tolerate than the other. We were referring to the second as chemo "light." Not that it's really any 'lighter' but it's four treatments over 12 weeks as opposed to eight treatments over 16 weeks.

There are other things that we've learned, one of which is that nearly 80% of all cancer patients are cured by surgery but there is no way to determine the difference between the 80 and the 20 and chemo is recommended to keep any rogue cancer cells from migrating and taking root in another part of the body. In other words, clear margins don't necessarily mean that there is no more cancer.

Another is that there are no two cancer patients that are the same. Cancer is a mutation and those mutations differ from one patient to another.

Chemo is really an insurance policy against one of those mutations implanting itself into another of my mom's organs. But...there are no guarantees.

The difference between my mom's cancer and the cancer that took my dad couldn't be greater but I constantly have to check myself to keep from going to the "worst case scenario" and "what if" crap that my brain likes to toy with.

Staying positive can be extremely difficult but I have to repeat the, "Not the same, not the same" mantra that I said over and over again in the hospital two weeks ago.

I have never been a terribly religious person. I consider myself to be a Christian as I believe in Jesus but I tend to venture more toward the spiritual side of worship and prayer. I talk to God every day and also find that prayer has a way of calming me down and focusing on the things that are important.

What is important is to concentrate on the here and now and give thanks for what we have.

We are blessed that she caught this so early that it's curable.

This too shall pass and before we know it we'll be sitting poolside soaking up the Vitamin D.

In the meantime, we'll take our supplements and pray for the chemo to be as gentle as possible on her system with the exception of making her cigarettes taste so gross that she comes out of this a non-smoker.