Reconstructive Surgery

Well, here it is, December 27th. Christmas has come and gone, and so has my surgery on December 16th. What a month! The last time I wrote on my blog, it was Thanksgiving. After that I started running (literally). We got the Christmas tree up, the Christmas cards sent, the Christmas gifts purchased and wrapped, all before the 16th. I knew once I had the surgery, I'd be in no condition to do any of the above.

The reconstructive surgery went very well. I had what is called a DIEP Free Flap surgery. This is basically an updated version of the TRAM Flap surgery. In the TRAM Flap, tissue, muscle and skin from the lower abdomen are actually tunneled up under the ribcage and placed on the breast area to be rebuilt. With the DIEP Flap, the tissue, blood vessels, skin, etc. are actually removed for the lower abdomen, the flap is created from this and attached to the breast area. The blood vessels and nerves have to be attached in order to keep the flap alive, and that's probably the most difficult part of the surgery. All total, the surgery lasted eight hours. It began at 10:30 am and I was in recovery by a little past 6:30 pm. The nurses in the recovery room kept telling me how well I was doing. They couldn't believe I was actually awake enough to respond to them. Even if it was just a nod, etc.

I was then sent to the Special Care Unit (ICU) for the next four days. This was because I was attached to about every kind of monitor that you could think of, and the nurses had to check on the Flap every hour for the first two days and every two hours for the next two days. The way they checked to see if the Flap was still viable was with a doppler machine. This is like an Ultra-sound machine, but it's shaped like a pen. There is a point on the Flap that they would place this "pen" and you could hear the blood flow. The nurses couldn't believe how strong the blood flow always was. They kept telling me that they had never heard one that was that strong. Of course this made me feel great. I would hate to have to go through a major surgery like this, and then have it fail (which it does now and then).

I finally was untethered from all my monitor wires and IV's on the Sunday following the surgery and got to spend my last night at the Huntsman in a regular room. It was a beautiful room which had a spectacular view of Salt Lake City. The only problem with it was that we were in the middle of a major cloud of fog for the entire night and I was only able to see as far as the helicopter pad on the roof of the University Hospital that is just next door to the Huntsman. Oh well, by then, all I wanted to do was go home anyway, which I was able to do on Monday.

I want to say something about my surgeon, Dr. Jay Agarwal. He's the very best!!! I would recommend him to anyone. He's such a quiet, humble man, and yet he performs miracles for people like me who have lost a part of their body that makes us feel feminine and whole. I will forever be grateful for him and his expertise. He's only about 38 years old, so he has many years to help women get their lives back to some kind of normalcy. I just hope and pray that this "healthcare plan" that is being forced on us doesn't discourage him and others like him to be the best that they can be. I fear it might.

I also want to say a special thank-you to the wonderful nurses and medical assistants at the Huntsman. They are just the best. They did everything they could to make me feel comfortable and feel like I was their most important patient. I know they had others to take care of that were every bit as important, but that's what was so great about them. They cared about me, when they were with me, and I knew I was more than just "Patient #such and such". I had to do alot of walking while I was in the hospital, and many times one of them would go with me. We had some great talks and we got to know each other pretty well. They truly are angels in white (or whatever color, now days).

The power of prayer once again manifested itself to me during this experience. I was given a special Priesthood Blessing by my son-in-law, Aaron, and a very dear friend, Glen Turner, before I went into surgery. My name was also put on the temple prayer lists by several of my family and friends. These along with all the good thoughts and prayers by family and friends from around the country, gave me the strength I needed to get through this in such a positive way. The doctors kept telling me that I must have a high tolerance for pain, but I know it was the strength behind the prayers that had been sent my way, that helped me and continues to

help me in my recovery.

I have an appointment to see Dr. Agarwal on Tuesday, so I'll know how things are going then. Maybe they'll be able to take out at least one of my drains (I have three). I'll continue this saga after that appointment. I'll sign off for now, and if you read this, thanks for your support.

Happy Thanksgiving

Wow! It's been over a month since I visited my Blog and wrote anything on it. It's about time I sat down and put down a few of my thoughts.

Today is Thanksgiving and we're having 30+ people here to celebrate, and I'm definitely going to celebrate. On this day, one year ago, I had seen my primary care physician, and she had set me up for a diagnostic mammogram. The appointment was for December 2nd. I knew in my heart that I had breast cancer, but it hadn't been confirmed and I wasn't telling anyone of my fears, because I didn't want anyone worrying. I was doing enough of that myself. Now, one year later, and a myriad of tests, surgery, chemo and radiation, I have a lot to be thankful for. I was scared to death last year, but I found out I'm a pretty tough lady, and this year wasn't as bad as I feared.

My family, especially my husband, Pat, has been very supportive. He took me to everyone on my chemo treatments and waited patiently through many hours of drips. He spent many hours in waiting rooms while I was in another doctor's appointment, and he listened to me when I needed to talk. He's put up with a lot and I thank him for his love and patience. My daughter, Amy, the nurse, was with me at my first appointment at the Huntsman Cancer Center. She gave me so much reassurance with her medical knowledge. She was able to understand what Dr. Neumeyer and Dr. Ward were telling me when I was being bombarded with so much information I couldn't take it all in. She helped me in so many ways this year, from taking care of surgical bandages and drains to giving me my Neulasta shots after my chemo treatments. My daughter, Erin, and son, Mark, for their loving concern and willingness to help whenever they could. Finally, Lisseth, my adopted niece, who has given me so much support in keeping up my health in general and my spirits. She was with me from the moment she heard I had cancer and gave me so much dietary advice, etc. I know the things she did for me helped me to get through chemo easier than I would have otherwise.

I'm so thankful for all the prayers that were sent up for me from all over the country and from every religious persuasion. It strengthened me and saw me through so many difficult days. Knowing that people cared enough for me to pray for me, humbles me so much. I always thought I was pretty independent and could take care of most things by myself, but I found out that needing other's help through prayer and service is not a weakness. I just hope that I will be able to return that love and support.

I'm thankful that I was able to go to the Huntsman Cancer Center for my care. Every person that I have met and worked with there has made me feel like I'm important. I've never once felt like a number or that I was keeping someone from something else. It's like being part of a family there. My doctors; Dr. Neumeyer, Dr. Ward, Dr. Gaffney and Dr. Agarwal have always given me every minute of time that I need to talk to them about my concerns, and they've answered all of my questions. The nurses and technicians made me feel so comfortable. When I saw them as often as did, we became friends, and they still know me by name, which is amazing to me, because they see so many patients. I especially want to thanks Vicki Rosser, who basically took me by my hand and led me through the first five months of this adventure. She even gave me her home phone number so I could call her if I needed to. She was always there with a hug and some words of encouragement, and she still is.

Finally, I'm thankful that I'm dancing with NED. What, you say? Well, I found a websight through the American Cancer Society, and they have discussion boards, where we talk about all sorts of things, but mainly about our fight with breast cancer. When I first joined the group, some people were talking about dancing with NED, and I wondered what they were talking about. Well, now I know. NED stands for No Evidence of Disease. Now I'm dancing with NED and that's the best gift of all.

Yes, I have much to be thankful for this year. It has been a year that I hope I will never have to go through again, but I have grown a lot because of my experience and I've learned so much about others. Thank you everyone for who you are and what you have given me. HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!

Thoughts on Being 'Cancer Free'

Cancer Free! It sounds wonderful, but just exactly what does it mean? Am I cured or am I in remission, what is it? I asked my oncologist's physician's assistant this, and she ran a program for me that showed me what the percentages were of the cancer returning with the different treatments I had. The possibility of it returning decreased with each treatment, but there's still about a 25% chance that it can come back. I'm trying to get my mind wrapped around that. I'm a pretty positive person, and I try to look at the bright side of things, but this is scary. I'm on a cancer survivor's websight and one of the things that was discussed there was how we as cancer survivor's are more susceptible to cancer, now that we've had it once. I'm really trying to not let these thoughts get to me, but it's always in the back of my mind. It's very difficult for me to talk to my family about these thoughts, because I don't want them to worry, and I know that they want to just get this behind us and forget it. I wish I could. Thank goodness for the web-sight that I go to. Even if I don't write anything, I can read what others are feeling and thinking and it helps me to realize I'm not alone.

A friend of mine that has gone through breast cancer sent me something that Erma Bombeck wrote when she found out she was dying of a second bout of cancer. I think it's so good that I want to print it here and read it often, because I think it's something that all of us need to remember.

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck

I'd have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for a day.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth..

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, 'Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.' There would have been more 'I love you's'. More 'I'm sorry's'.

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute .. look at it and really see it .. live it and never give it back. STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF!!!

These are things I need to remember, especially to stop sweating the small stuff. Live and love life and never have any regrets.

Surgery - December 16th

Well, I had my appointment with Dr Agarwal this last Tuesday. We talked for a long time and decided the DIEP Flap is the one that I will have. This is also known as the Free TRAM Flap. We discussed the fact that there is a 1% - 3% chance that the surgery won't work. This is because there are blood vessels that need to be attached and if it's not done correctly then the tissue from the stomach that is used to make the breast will die. That's why the surgeon who does this has to be well qualified in micro-surgery. The surgery will take 6-8 hours and I'll be in the hospital for 4 or 5 days, mainly to make sure the surgery was a success and the circulation in the new breast is working properly. So if everything goes well, I should be home by December 21st, in time to celebrate Christmas. Last year, I had my mastectomy on December 23rd and was home to celebrate Christmas and the fact that the beast (cancer) was out of my body. Believe it or not that was a great celebration, and now after spending seven months in Chemotherapy and Radiation and all their lovely side effects, I'll be able to celebrate a new breast and a new life. To find out more about the DIEP Flap, google it or go to the American Cancer Society websight.

Why am I waiting till December 16th to have the surgery? When I was talking to Dr. Agarwal, he asked me when I'd like the surgery. I said, "Well, not this week, but as soon as possible. If I could have it before the end of the month, that would be great." He kind of smiled at me and said, "Let me check my schedule." I had three options before the end of the year. They were December 2nd, 9th or 16th. (Dr. Agarwal's a busy man) I thought about it for a few minutes and decided on December 16th so I could have everything ready for Christmas, then have the surgery, come home and let everyone else handle the big day itself. I'll just sit back and relax. They'll have to let me do just that. Then I'll have January to recuperate. Nothing major will be going on, and it's not a month to be outside alot anyway, unless you ski which I gave up many years ago.

Now that I know when I'll be having the surgery, I can actually make some plans, so tomorrow, I'm heading to California to help my friend, Jan Burgess, celebrate her birthday. It'll be nice to get some California sunshine for a couple of days, if it doesn't rain. We've had some cold weather here lately, and I'm not quite ready for the big change. I did get out in the backyard yesterday, and cut back all my perennials along our back fence. It took about three hours and by the time I was finished, I thought my back was going to break. Sombra and Ibuprophen barely touched it. I'll wait till I'm back from California to do anymore.

A friend of mine that has also had breast cancer, sent me some thoughts from Erma Bombeck when she found out she was dieing of cancer. I thought they were so important that in my next blog I'm going to add them. For now, my thought for the day is: 'Never fear shadows. They simply mean there's a light shining somewhere nearby.'

The Waiting Game

My gosh, an entire month has come and gone since I last posted anything on my Blog. September was a busy month, so that's my excuse. We joined the Marriott Vacation Club several years ago, and bought a condominium at the Marriott Mountainside Resort in Park CIty. We've only used it once before, because we usually trade it for other condos at other resorts, but this year we decided to stay home and spend time at our own condo. So, September 18-25 was our big week. We let our kids and their families use it for the weekend, then Pat and I stayed there for the remainder of the week. It was five days of pure relaxation. We had our friends, the Burgesses join us on Wednesday for a couple of nights. It was a very pleasant get-away and just up the mountain from Bountiful.

I titled this blog 'The Waiting Game', because that's what I'm doing. I'm waiting to find out when I'm going to have my reconstructive surgery. I knew there would be a three month wait after I completed the radiation therapy, but now it's been three months and I'm getting a bit anxious. I'm scheduled to see the plastic surgeon tomorrow (Oct. 6), so hopefully he'll set a surgery date and I can start making some plans. I haven't been able to "plan" anything from October on, because everything's on hold with this impending surgery. I'll be having either a DIEP Flap or a TRAM Flap, and the recovery period for either of them is about six weeks. I,'m hoping to have the DIEP Flap. It's the newer procedure and my doctor, Dr. Agarwal, is one of the few doctors in the USA that can perform it. It's a long surgery (about 6-8 hours) and it's a micro-surgery, so very detailed, but it's been very successful, and the women I've read about who have had it are very happy with the results. I'll be able to talk about what's going to happen after I see Dr. Agarwal tomorrow.

I found a websight that I like alot. It's a cancer survivor's websight sponsored be the American Cancer Society. I checked into it about a month ago. They have these discussion boards where women can pose questions or problems they're having and get feedback from women from all over the world that are going through the same thing. It really helps me to realize I'm not alone in this battle, and there are women out there who know what it's all about and can relate to my concerns and fears. I've learned alot about some of the treatments I'm having and how they can affect me, and I've come up with great questions to ask my oncologist, just from reading some of the discussions. There are women in every stage of their fight against the 'monster' as they call it, and their strength and courage is so inspiring. I didn't think I wanted or needed to have this kind of support, but as time goes on, I find that being able to talk to women who have gone through this, is very helpful to me. Now I'm thinking I'd like to find a support group in Salt Lake City that I can join.

This weekend was General Conference for my church. General Conference is held twice a year and it's purpose is to give the members of the church an opportunity to see and hear the messages from the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve Apostles, etc. This conference was a very special one in that the messages all seemed to center on loving one another and service to one another. It really hit home with me because I've been on the receiving end of that kind of love and service since I was diagnosed with cancer. It was very difficult for me to accept this outpouring of love at first. I just figured I had my family and I was a strong woman and I could handle all of this on my own, but I found out differently. Knowing that there are others that care about you and are willing to help in any way is very comforting in a crisis situation. I hope to be one of those caretakers for others when I'm past all of this.

Well, I've jabbered enough. I'll sign off for now and hopefully have something to talk about after tomorrow's appointment with Dr. Agarwal.

Thoughts on a Saturday Morning

Sitting here, eating breakfast, I'm thinking about this last week and some of the things that happened. This last weekend, I thought we were going to lose our dog, Darby. He's fifteen years old, and on Saturday evening, he just quit moving. He wouldn't come up the stairs to our bedroom when it was time for bed, (He has to sleep in the room with us) and he really struggled to even go outside to relieve himself. His appetite was still good and he was drinking enough water. I couldn't help thinking I was going to have to have him put to sleep. The idea of that was just too much, especially after losing Sherman. So, I took him to the veterinarian on Monday. I told her what had been going on. She checked him out and found out he had injured his back, probably bounding up our stairs. He still thinks he's a puppy. Anyway, she gave him some steroids and muscle relaxants, and he's back to his old self. Thank goodness!!

On Wednesday, I went to the Huntsman Cancer Center for my third infusion of Zometa. It's really odd how hard a time I have going there. It brings back too many memories of being on chemotherapy and all that that entailed. Once I get to the infusion room, and meet the nurse who will be doing the infusion, I relax and I'm okay. The nurses that are there, remember me, and are so nice. We usually have a good visit, which makes me feel great. The infusion itself only takes about a half hour, but with blood work, etc. I can expect to be there at least an hour and a half to two hours. I'm very glad I'm taking part in this clinical trial, because it will at least help me keep my bones strong, but hopefully it will be an answer to helping women avoid bone cancer after having breast cancer.

Thursday, Pat took our grandson to the optician to get a new lense in his glasses. The optician's

office is in a medical building, so they're walking to the office when Colin notices that one of the signs on an office is 'Plastic Surgeon'. He asks Pat what a plastic surgeon does, and after some explanation, Colin asks him if anyone in our family has ever had plastic surgery, so Pat tells him that I'll be having some this fall. Then Colin asks him why. Pat tells him that I have a lot of scars on my chest from the surgery I had last winter, so the plastic surgeon is going to fix them and make my chest like new. Colin thinks about that for a miute, then says "That's got to hurt!"

Out of the mouths of babes!!

Yesterday, I met my friend, Kay VanKampen, for lunch. She and I have been friends since our college days. We try to get together at least once every two or three months for lunch and a good visit. She still lives in Ogden and since I live in Bountiful, we compromise and meet in Layton for lunch. They have alot of great restaurants, so we have some good choices. Yesterday, we went to McCool's Public House. It's an Irish restaurant/bar, and she'd never been there. The food was great and we had a good visit. It was a nice ending to a busy week.

And so goes life. My thought for the week is, "Love is a present that can be given every single day you live."

August Rush

That's the title of one of my favorite movies. Why I titled this post that, I don't know, except that Ausgust is rushing by and so is summer, and I don't know where it went. My last post was dated July 17th and the last month has been a rush of activity. Pat and I left for Illinois on July 23rd. We took our grandson, Colin, with us. It was a major roadtrip (three 7 hour days). I was really worried about how Colin would make the trip, but he was a real trooper. We kept him plied with movies, Nintendo DS games and books, and he was quite happy. After our first day, we pulled off the freeway in Sidney, Nebraska, and he asked Pat, "Grandpa, how long would it take on an airplane?" Pat answered, "3 hours". I could see Colin's wheels turning, and I said, "Yes, Colin, we'd be there by now, but heaven forbid that we miss the adventure of the roadtrip." Personally, I'd take the plane anyday. The trip along I80 to Illinois has to be one the most boring, least scenic trips ever. Miles and miles of nothing but flat, flat barren land. It really doesn't get very interesting till you get into Iowa, but who am I to complain. I'm just along for the ride, whether I want to be or not.

Our visit in Illinois was alot of fun. Pat's Aunt Catherine had a 90th birthday party on July 26th. So that was our first stop. We spent three days in Urbana, Illinois visiting with alot of family and friends who had made the trip to help her celebrate. Her actual birthday is today, August 27th, but the party was held in July because more people could come then. It was great seeing so much family, many of whom we hadn't seen in a long time. After our stay in Urbana,

we went to Savanna, Illinois, and stayed with Pat's sister, Pam and her husband, Jon, for a week. Colin had a great time, because he got to meet and play with alot of cousins that he had never met before.

We got back to Utah on August 5th. It was great to get back home, but we found out one of our cats disappeared the weekend before we got home. Pat, of course, was ecstatic. He hates cats. I'm still in mourning. Sherman was such a cool cat, and I just can't figure it out. If I knew what had happened to him, I might get some closure, but I don't. I've been checking with the animal control and the humane society, in case he got picked up, but nothing. I just hope he found a new home, with people who love him.

We were home long enough to wash clothes and read the mail, then we FLEW to Sacramento to visit some of our friends that we hadn't seen for more than a year. We spent three days with them and had a fun time. They were heading to Alaska for an Inland Passage cruise from Seward, Alaska to Victoria, Canada three days after we left. I was kind of envious, but we all began planning our next European vacation, once this year is behind me. We're going to take a river cruise down the Danube, probably next spring. It will be my celebration trip for getting through 2009.

This last month has been the "Get out of Dodge" month. It's the first time in a year that I've been able to go anywhere other than the Huntsman Cancer Center, and it's been so nice to be free to just do what I want to do, without doctor's appointments, etc. to contend with. I still have my reconstructive surgery to look forward to, but that won't be till October, so till then, I'm enjoying getting back to some normalcy.

Summer Time and the Living is Easy!

Well, here it is, July 17th, and with my main cancer treatment behind me, the living IS easy. My last radiation treatment was on July 2nd. I'm finally getting over the burn. The worst of that hit after the treatments had ended. There was an area under my right arm that looked like it had been fried. It was brown and dry, and the dead skin just finally sluffed off. The rest of the area that was radiated was just like a very bad sunburn. No matter how much Miaderm I put on, it just plain hurt. Now it's finally healing and I can actually wear my bra again. I know this sounds awful, but I didn't have it as bad as some of the women that I befriended in the waiting room. There's always someone you meet that's worse off than you, and it really gives you pause and just thankful for your blessings.

Anyway, I met with the surgeon that will do my reconstruction a week after I was finished with the radiation. He said that I would not be a candidate for a silcon or saline implant, because of the effect the radiation had on my skin. I don't know all of the reasons, but I think alot of it has to do with scarring, etc. So, I'll be doing the reconstruction where they take fat, etc. out of the lower stomach (tummy tuck) and make a boob. They attach blood vessels, etc. so there is circulation. This is a major surgery. It'll take about six to eight hours. I won't be having it till October because I need to be totally healed from the radiation.

In the meantime, I'm taking part in a study at the Huntsman. It's being done to find out if adding bisphosphonates (drugs that have strong effects on the bones and can strengthen them) to hormonal therapy (Tamoxifen) will help prevent cancer from spreading to the bones or other parts of the body. Since I was already taking Fosamax, I decided to do this. It certainly won't hurt me, and if it can find answers to help in the future fight against this disease, I'm only glad to be part of this. It's a national study involving about 4000 women. They are studying three different bisphosphonates. Two are pills that a woman takes on a daily basis for three years, and the third is an infusion that a woman has on a monthly basis for six months, then quarterly for the remainder of the study. I was radomized into the one that is the infusion. The bisphosphonate is Zometa. My oncologist told me it is a very good drug and he uses it along with chemotherapy for people who are already suffering from bone cancer. I've had one infusion already and my next one will be on July 22nd. So far there have not been any bad side effects. I'll be doing this for three years along with the hormone therapy, Tamoxifen (which I take for five years).

And so goes my life. I sometimes wonder what happened and how I got here, but here I am, and I'm going to make the very best I can of it. Life deals everyone challenges, and it's how we handle these challenges that makes us who we are.

Where Does theTime Go?!?

Today is June 20th.  I haven't written on my blog for over a month.   I don't know what happened to me.  The last month has been a total loss with anything productive.  I began my radiation therapy on May 21st and that's all I've done.  I go to the Huntsman Center five days a week.  My appointment is at 3pm, so I leave home about 2:15pm in order to get there on time. The appointment usually takes only about fifteen to twenty minutes, but with waiting time I usually don't leave till about 4pm and get back home between 4:30pm and 5pm.  The radiation therapy itself usually wipes me out, so by the time I get home, I just want to crash.  Needless to say, we've done alot of takeout lately.  I've had twenty-one treatments so far, and I still have nine to go.  The area that's being treated is very red, and is becoming quite sensitive.  It feels like having a very bad sunburn, following a day at the beach.  I keep my skin slathered with a special lotion for radiation burn, and it does help, but it will just be nice to have it all behind me.   

My hair's beginning to grow back.  I have about an eighth of an inch all over my head.  The radiation therapists tell me once it starts growing it really comes in fast.  I thought if it's grown alot by the time I have my last treatment, then maybe I'll take my scarf off and let them see it. That's the one good thing about going everyday for these treatments.  I've really gotten to know the therapists well.  My favorite is Debbie.  She has such a fun personality.  We always have a good laugh or two while I'm there.  I've decided the key to getting through this whole process is to keep a smile on my face and in my heart, and laugh as much as possible.  

It is now Wednesday, June 24th. and I still haven't finished this post.  Anyway, one of my friends from church, Janice Simmons, brought dinner to Pat and me tonight.  This is the second day this week that someone has brought dinner.  Monday my neighbor, Doty, brought over homemade shrimp fettucini.  It was delicious.  It's like I said before, I have the best neighbors and friends.  It really makes me feel guilty at times, because they've been so good to me, and I haven't felt that sick that I should be getting such wonderful help.  There will be a time when I can return the favor.  

I'm now down to six more treatments.  It's going by fast.  It will be so great to have all of this behind me.  I'll be on Tamoxifin (spelling?) for five years, and I'll be back for periodic checkups but the main treatments will be over.  I'm taking part in a study that I'll talk about in my next blog.  That's one of the good things about being at Huntsman.  I have the opportunity to be in studies that will help in the future treatments of cancer, but will possibly help me also.

This has been a difficult week for me.  My friend, Becky, that I wrote about in March, passed away on Monday.  She had colon cancer that had matastisized to her brain and then went to her pancreas.  She really fought hard, but the cancer just took over.  Her mother called me Tuesday morning and told me about her death.  She said that she only weighed about fifty pounds when she died. Becky was such a feisty gal, but the last three years have been hell for her.  Her husband, Mike, had fought cancer for two years before he died last July and then Becky wound up battling for her life this year.  Now she's gone.  I know that she's at peace and with her beloved Mike.  They were truly soulmates and I just don't think they could be apart.  She'll be missed. 

  

  

  

Susan G. Komen Walk for the Cure

It's been one week since I walked in the Susan G. Komen Walk for the Cure.  What an inspiring experience that was.  The last time I wrote on my Blog, I talked about my friend, Lori Workman who had gotten me involved in this project.  Well, last weekend, May 9th, our Gilmore Girls and Company team of thirty two people met at 8am.  We were part of more than 18,000 people who were there to walk for the cure of breast cancer.  Many of these people were walking to honor a loved one who had lost their battle with cancer, but there were also thousands of survivors, including my brother's mother-in-law, Melba Blair, who is a thirty year survivor.  She is ninety-four years old and with the help of her daughter and grand-daughter walked the 1-mile fun walk. She wound up on a tv news report about the Walk, and was even interviewed for a documentary that is being produced.

I was able to walk the 1-mile fun walk with my special "niece", Lisseth's, mother, Graciella.  She is here from Venezuela and was part of our team.  After just having my last chemo-therapy on Wednesday, May 6th, I wasn't ready to do a 5k.  In fact, the 1-mile was almost too much for me, but I did it.  

It was hard to fathom how many people took part in this Walk.  When we were in the middle of it, we looked behind us, and there was a sea of people for as far we could see, and it was the same looking forward.  My son, Mark took pictures, as well as practically everyone on the team, so, if I can figure out how to put pictures on here, I'll post some of them. 

The most impressive part of the Walk were the number of women who had fought this incidiece disease and won.  There was a survivor's parade following the Walk that was at least two-thousand strong.  It really strenthened by belief that my fight can and will be won.  I'm so thankful I took part in this event, and I'm planning to do it again next year.  Then I can be a survivor, too.  

Time Flies!

I just read my last Blog entry and it was published two weeks ago.  Since then  I did have my seventh chemo-therapy, and my cough turned into a sinus infection that I've been fighting ever since.  After two weeks of snorting, coughing and just being plain miserable, I went to my regular doctor, and she put me on an anti-biotic and Mucinex.  Within three days I was feeling much better, and now my cough has stopped and I can actually breathe again.  The miracle of modern medicine.  Now my husband, Pat is dealing with much the same thing.  Of course, he's one of these guys that WON"T go to doctor.  So we'll see how long it takes him to get over this.  

My LAST chemo-therapy is coming up this Wednesday, May 6th.  I can hardly believe I've made it through.  I remember back on January 27th when I had my first treatment.  I was scared to death.  I didn't know what to expect, and looking forward to nearly four months of chemo was daunting. Now here I am at the end.  Looking back at the whole experience, I can honestly say it wasn't half as bad as I expected.  Yes, I had my bad days, but they were few, and I found if I followed the directions of the doctors, I could control most of the physical problems with very little effort.  I've come to the conclusion that a big percentage of how we react to things is our attitude.  I decided when I first found out I had breast cancer, that I was not going to be a victim, and I was not going to feel sorry for myself.  That's why I named my Blog 'The Year of the Cure'.  I was and am going to fight this with all I have, and I will get better and be back to my old self before I know it. 

    To celebrate completing the chemo-therapy part of my treatment, I'm going to walk in the Susan G. Komen Walk for the Cure.  A friend of mine, Lori Workman, talked to me about this back in February.  She said we should form a team and participate.  She and her daughter, Lisa, have done this for years.  They've even gone to several of the national three-day walks. Anyway

I thought about it for awhile and decided it was the thing to do.  So, 'The Gilmore Girls and Company' was formed.  Now two months later, we have thirty people registered with our team. We've raised almost $500.00.  We had special t-shirts made for our team, and now we're looking forward to the Walk this next Saturday, May 9th.  It should be a great time.  Most of our team will be doing the 5k walk/run, but there is also a 1 mile fun walk for us wusses.  I hope I'll make that much.  With my chemo just three days before, I'm not sure how much I'll be up for, but that's what my teammates are for.  My son, Mark, is going to be our official photographer, so I'll post some pictures on my next post.  If anyone would like to know more about this you can visit the websight:  www.komenslc.org  After the Walk, we're having a picnic for everyone on the team and their families.  It'll be a great day of celebration.  Then I'll be ready to take a break before I move on to the next phase of the Cure.       

I Think It's Spring at Last!

What an absolutely beautiful day!  There's not a cloud in the sky and it's warm!  Finally!!!  I think everyone is sick of winter.  It began at the end of November and it was still snowing last week.  I did have time to get my lawn power raked and aerated this last week before it rained and snowed again.  I just hope that spring is here to stay.  

At my last chemo-therapy treatment, a woman came through the infusion room with a rose for each of the patients and a poem that her daughter had written.  I want to share the poem with you. 

Here's a rose for you, In case you are feeling blue.

For the trial you humbly bear, 

  Must cause considerable wear Upon your glorious soul.

So I just want you to know, You are in my constant prayer,

 And just to make you aware,

However things may go, You will always be my hero,

For the unbelievable might, With which you now fight,

  Within its own right,

  Should make your burden light, and make your day bright.

Casey Withun

I just think this is such a sweet little poem and it really shows alot of thought and maturity on the part of the girl that wrote it.  When I first began my chemo-therapy, I looked around the infusion room and was really taken with the sheer number of people who were fighting cancer, and the bravery and strength that each one of them displayed.  I was totally oblivious to this world before I was thrust into it.  I've come to understand that cancer is not a respector of people.  It strikes the old and the young, the rich and the poor, the strong and the weak.  Most people who are fighting this disease do so with a quiet fortitude that just amazes me.  I feel much like young Casey does.  They've become my heroes.

My next chemo is this coming Tuesday.  I've been trying to come down with a cold for the last week and so far it's no worse than a cough.  I just hope it doesn't stop me from having my treatment.  I'm so close to being done with all of this that I don't want to get way-laid now. 

Well, I'm going to go outside and enjoy the sunshine, so have a nice Sunday.      

   

Easter!

Its Easter weekend and I've been thinking about my relationship with our Lord and Savior.  I've always been a very private person in my faith.  I don't know why, but to me, my faith and beliefs are so precious that I don't want them misunderstood and mocked.  Being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints might be one of the reasons for this.  There are so many untruths and half-truths told about my church that it's difficult to try to talk to anyone logically about my beliefs. 

Anyway, this last weekend was the semi-annual conference for my church.  This happens twice a year, in October and in April.  The main meetings are held in Salt Lake City and the speakers come from the First Presidency and the Twelve Apostles, etc.  It was a wonderful conference and there was alot to soak in and ponder.  

The most important principle I gained from this conference was that of personal faith.  We can gain faith through other's faith and testimonies, but unless we have our own deep and abiding faith, we won't progress the way we can.  One of my favorite quotes from the conference was: "Your future is as bright as your faith."  That's so important!  Basically it's telling me, it's up to me.  I am responsible for what happens to me.  If I keep my faith in Jesus and do those things that I know are right, then I know my future is bright.  

The other principle concerning faith that I gained from this conference is that faith and doubt cannot exist together.  This is something that I must remind myself of alot.  When you're going through something like I am, it's so easy to get down and begin to doubt what you truly believe.

From the very beginning of this journey with cancer, I have believed that I will win this battle. I have known that I was where I was supposed to be, and I have the doctors that I am supposed to have.  I have no doubt of any of this, and I just need to keep reminding myself of this and KEEP THE FAITH!!!        

This week, I had my second Taxol treatment, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.  The treatment was on Tuesday, and Wednesday, I felt pretty good, so I ran some errands and paid some bills, then Amy gave my the Neulasta shot to keep up my white blood cell count.  By Thursday morning I was down and out. I felt like I had a bad case of the flu.  I ached from head to toe and my stomach was doing flip flops.  Stupid me, didn't take my anti-nausea medicine the way I'm supposed to and by Thursday evening I was just plain sick.  Needless to say it was not a good couple of days.  Today, I'm feeling alot better, still achy, but I can handle that with some Tylenol.  Only two more treatments!! I'm just hoping the next two will be a little less troublesome.     

Before I end this post, I want to wish everyone an Easter that will bring you closer to the Lord and your own personal faith.  It is because of Jesus' Atonement and Resurrection that we will be resurrected and have the opportunity to return to him.   Have a happy Easter!    

Five Down and Three To Go

It always amazes me, when I look back on time, how quickly it passes.  It seems just like yesterday that I was going in for my first chemotherapy treatment.  I still remember the anxiety and downright fear that I felt, and now here I am, on the downgrade.  I've completed the first round of treatments, and had my first treatment of the second round.  

This new medication is called Taxol, and it's side effects are quite different from the Adriamycin/Cytoxin combo.  I haven't had the problems with nausea at all.  In fact, I've hardly taken any anti-nausea medication since my treatment on Tuesday, March 24th.  The one side effect that is quite disconcerting is the muscle and bone aches and pains.  The two days after the treatment, I had zero energy.  All I wanted to do was sleep.  Then, the leg aches hit.  It's difficult to explain how they feel.  It's not like having the flu when you just ache all over.  It's more like twinges of pain that strike whenever, and the only way to relieve them is to move. They also make my legs feel weak, and I sometimes feel like I'm going to lose my balance or fall.  I was told I would have feelings of clumsiness, etc., and it's true.  I haven't ventured out yet, but I can't hibernate, so hopefully by tomorrow (Monday), I'll feel well enough to get out and do something.  

I've been kind of down in the dumps this week.  I think alot of that is because of the side effects of the chemo, but I also learned that a friend of mine who is fighting colon cancer found out that the cancer had matasticized to her brain.  It just seems so unfair that this is happening to her.  She lost her husband to cancer this last July.  It wasn't more than two weeks after his passing that she was diagnosed with colon cancer, and now this.  The doctors have told her she probably has nine to eleven months, but they are treating it aggressively with radiation and she has a fighting spirit.  If anyone can overcome this, it's Becky. 

Then, Pat and I were having lunch at Huntsman while I was waiting for my chemo appointment

and one of Pat's friends stopped by our table to say hello.  We all said this was no place to run into friends, because it meant someone was in some kind of medical trouble.  It wound up being his son, who was diagnosed with a hodgkins cancer of the blood.  He was in the hospital for aggressive treatment and would be there for at least another two or three weeks.  He's only in his thirties and has two little children.  Again, I'm wondering why.  

I know life is no respecter of people, and there are no guarantees, but sometimes life seems to be too unfair.  I'm going to be even more thankful for all of my blessings, because I truly believe

that I have been blessed in so many ways from the very beginning of this journey.      

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

I didn't realze it had been over three weeks since I last wrote on my blog.  I guess there's been alot going on in my life during that time. I had my third chemotherapy on February 24th and things went so easily, I didn't have much to write about.  So, I took some time to do some things for alot of people that had been so good to me.  

My ex-sister-in-law had a knee replacement of February 17th.  She and I are still very close.  As a matter-of-fact, since we're the only daughters in our respective families, we consider each other our 'sister'. I've known Joan since I was a child.  She and my brother, Jack, were married when I was about seven years old.  I was the flowergirl.  I grew up with Joan as my sister, so even after she and my brother parted ways, we've stayed very close.  She has been here for me in so many ways since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her moral support and prayers have meant so much to me, so when she had to have a knee replacement I wanted to be there for her, too. She's staying in a rehab center right now, so I've tried to spend at least one day a week with her, taking her a fun treat and just visiting.  She's working really hard with her rehab, so she can get home and be with her daughter, Cynthia, and her family.

My niece, Lisseth, had her 50th birthday on March 1st, and my daughter,Erin, had her 33rd birthday on March 3rd.  That was a very busy week.  Lisseth's husband, Glen, and her daughter, Cristina, planned a big surprise party for her.  They had it a local hotel and her brother, David, and his friend, Rick, supplied the music. There were at least 70 people there and it was alot of fun.  Lisseth was totally surprised.  She was even in tears for awhile. 

Lisseth has been my #1 advocate since the very beginning of my cancer fight.  She has given me so much help and advice, and I love her dearly.   She has helped me with alot of my nutrition questions and has gotten me herbal medicines that have helped keep up my strength and energy, which is so important in this fight.  I'm so thankful Lisseth and I are such close friends and family, and I'm thankful I was able to help and support her on her special day.  

   Erin's birthday was two days after Lisseth's and it was a much quieter affair. Pat and I took her and her sister, Amy, and their children out for breakfast at Ihop. Then, Pat and Erin went shopping for a new car radio for her, and her son, Colin, and I went shopping for a gift from him.  He knew exactly what he wanted to get her.  It was the second and third books in the Twilight series.  We had to check out a couple of stores to find them, but we were successful, and he even found her the perfect birthday card.  That night we took the whole gang, all ten of us, to The Cheesecake Factory, for the official birthday dinner, and after making gastronomic fools of ourselves, we opened gifts and blubbered our ways home.  It was a relaxed, but fun birthday.  

Pat's sister, Pam, had her birthday the day after Erin's, and the rest of March looks much the same. It's the busiest birthday month in our family. Now that I've made my excuses for not writing on my blog for some time, I'll try to make some sense of my title.

This is all about being bald.  I've decided the good part about being bald is there's no worry about if my hair looks good or not.  It sure makes getting ready to go somewhere 100% easier and faster. I can get a shower, put on my makeup, get dressed and be out the door in forty-five minutes.  The bad part about being bald, is being bald.  I have a really difficult time not having my head covered around people.  I know some women are comfortable with being bald, but I haven't gotten there yet.  I can go with my head uncovered when I'm by myself, but I even have to have a hat or cap on around Pat.  He thinks I'm crazy, but I can't help it.  Everyone has always told me that I have such beautiful hair and now to have it GONE, it really is a blow to the old ego. The ugly part of this whole thing is when I look in the mirror, I think, "how ugly".  It isn't a pretty sight.  I know this is all temporary, and everyone who's gone through this has said your hair comes back even better, but it's long ways off, and I'm still having problems with the bald thing.  Maybe I'll get over it sometime soon. 

Yesterday, I went for my fourth chemotherapy, the last in the Adriamycin/Cytoxin series.  YAY! Anyway, while I was there, someone who had been going through chemo brought in a big basket of homemade chocolates in cellophane bags with a little poem attached, and I want to end this post with that poem, because it expresses so much of how I feel about this whole journey.

What Cancer Cannot Do

       Cancer is so limited... 

        It cannot cripple Love  

       It cannot shatter Hope

       It cannot corrode Faith

       It cannot destroy Peace

       It cannot kill Friendship

It cannot suppress Memories

       It cannot silence Courage

       It cannot invade the Soul

      It cannot steal Eternal Life

     But most of all...

    Cancer cannot conquer the Spirit!

     

Me Taking Care of Me

This week has been the good week.  I haven't had to take any anti-nausea medication since last Saturday, and there haven't been any aches and pains.  I feel absolutely normal, except my hair is gone.  I actually went to my hairdresser on Tuesday and had what was left of it shaved off. After getting in the shower for a second time and having another glob of hair in the bottom, I decided enough is enough.  I feel much better now, and I'm glad I did it. Now I've taken to wearing hats, caps, scarves and my wig.  

On Friday I had an appointment with a Physical Fitness Therapist.  Another amenity of the Huntsman Institute. There's a whole department called the Wellness Center that is all about caring for the whole individual, not just the cancer.  My appointment was to assess where I was as far as my fitness level and to design a program that will keep me in as good a shape as possible while I go through the chemo and radiation.  Then once I've completed the treatments they'll help me design a program to get me moving again and in better shape than I am now.     That was quite a mouthful. The assesment took about an hour and a half, and was pretty intense.  The thing I was the worst at was my balance.  I couldn't stand on my left leg and hold my balance for more than two seconds.  Wow, who would have thought.  Anyway, I meet with them again next Friday, after they've had a chance to go over my tests and they will set up a program for me.  

After that appointment, I met with a nutritionist, that gave me some very good information about breast cancer, some of its causes and nutritional ideas to help combat any recurrence. The most interesting thing I learned there was how much weight gain, especially around the middle contributes to breast cancer. I had to admit, that was me.  I've put on an extra twenty to thirty pounds over the last twenty years, and most of it has been around the middle. Not Good.

So, if I want to do something for myself, not only do I need to get back to a good exercise program, but I'm definitely going to have to change my eating habits. There'll be alot more fruits, vegetables and grains on my plate, and alot less meat. 

I'm really glad I did this, because it's something I can actually do for me.  So much of cancer treatment is following doctors' orders, and living with the side effects, aka-hair loss.  In order to be at all proactive, I really believe I need to do as much for myself as I can.  I refuse to be a victim, and I will not sit around feeling sorry for myself.  As far as I'm concerned that's the best way to be defeated by this, and I will not be defeated.  I'm going to beat this and come out a better person all around.      

 

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Everyone I talked with at the Huntsman told me to expect to lose my hair by the second chemotherapy treatment.  In order to not be totally overwhelmed when this happened, on Monday, February 9th, I had my hair cut really, really short. It looked like a boy cut in the back, but I had a little side hair that I could comb forward, and I had a fringe of bangs.  My second chemotherapy was the next day, February, 10th.  I hadn't lost my hair, and I was anxious to show everyone that it was still there.  Pat kept saying, "you probably won't lose it".  Such positive thinking. Everyone liked the cut, and I wondered how long it would last.  

Anyway, I went through the second chemo without a hitch.  The Power Port worked perfectly. The first thing I have to do before having chemo is have my blood drawn to make sure all the counts are up where they should be.  If they aren't, I can't have the chemo.  So anyway, the  girls in the lab accessed my port with one EASY try, the blood was drawn, and a tube was placed for the chemo.  My lab work came back A-OK, so at a little after 9am, the chemotherapy began, and by noon, it was finished and we were ready to head for home.  

I stopped by the Wellness Center and set up an appointment to have a physical fitness accessment.  I haven't exercised since all of this began back in December, and I need to get back to doing something.  They have a great program at Huntsman, just another reason I'm so thankful I'm there.  From there, we went to the Pharmacy to pick up the medication I needed to take home, and surprise, surprise, both meds had been removed from the computer and no refills were shown.  For the next almost two hours the Pharmacy and I were chasing down my doctors to resubmit the perscriptions.  

Finally, at nearly 2:30pm, we were on our way home.  I felt kind of queasy on the ride home, and by the time we got there I was downright nauseated.  I immediatly took an anti-nausea, but it was too little too late.  I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening trying to get things under control, and finally succeeded after a good night's sleep and more medication.  My daughter, Amy, came over on Wednesday and gave me the Neulasta shot.  The rest of the day went pretty well, and I still had my hair.  

Thursday morning dawned with my whole body aching.  Dr. Ward's assistant, Dr. Haslam had told me the Neulasta shot would probably have a stronger affect, and it did.  Ibuprophen and a soak in our Jacuzzi helped some, but most of the day I felt like I had the flu.  It was definitely a down day, and even more so, because when I washed my hair during my soak, I got a handful of hair.  It was finally happening.  In a way, I was almost relieved.  I knew I was going to lose it, but I just kept hoping to hold onto it for as long as possible.  Well, here it was, reality was hitting me in the face.  I barely combed it, and decided not to touch it anymore than I had to.  I knew the next time I washed it, it would all come out, so the answer to that was hold off on washing it.  

That lasted till yesterday, Monday, February 16th.  I finally had talked myself into accepting the inevitable.  I got in the shower and started shampooing.  My hair literally came out in clumps. It really was disgusting.  I would run my hand over my head, and I would have a handful of hair. I finished my shower, cleaned out a large wad of hair, then looked at myself in the mirror. Jack Nicholson was looking back at me.  My hairline had suddenly receded by at least an inch. The hair that was still there was very thin and the only thing I could do was comb it straight back Everytime I did that, there was another wad of hair in my comb. So, here I am, bald and frustrated.  Hats and headcovers are my future, at least through the summer.  Thank goodness I had already bought a wig and some hats.  Now, to paraphrase Jack Nicholson  in the movie 'The Shining', "Here's Connie!"     

The Chemotherapy Treatments Begin

I haven't posted anything on my blog for almost a week.  I need to get up to date, but before I do, I need to say something about my wonderful neighbors, and church members.  I think of myself as being pretty independent and self-reliant.  I can handle practically anything that comes along. Right?!  Well, then something like this happens, and I found out how much others help means.  On my birthday, after being gone all day, I opened my front door to let our cat in, and found it filled with birthday gifts and good wishes from my loving neighbors.  I could hardly believe it.  There was homemade chicken noodle soup from the Crowthers, and Shepherd's pie from the Jarvises. There was a beautiful Azeala from the Marstons, and a flowering planter from my brother.  Then I picked up the phone to see if we had any messages and there were a dozen messages from people in my neighborhood and church wishing me a happy birthday and hoping I'm doing well.  I have people checking in on me and calling me to tell me they're bringing over dinner, so don't fix anything.  I almost feel guilty, but I want everyone of them to know how very much this all means to me.  We don't live on an island, and when we can accept love and help from others, we enrich everybody's life.  Thank you!

Now on to my chemo experience.  My first treatment was on January 27th.  It was a long day.  I

started out by having a MUGAScan.  A MUGAscan, you ask?  I thought the same thing when they told me I needed one.  What the heck is a MUGAScan.  Well, it's probably one of the easiest tests I've had.  It's to test the heart's function, to make sure it's working okay, since I guess chemo can be hard on it.  Anyway, they put in an IV (another d-- IV) with some kind of isotops, then they watch it go through the artery system.  I just had to lie there, and I even fell asleep a couple of times.  That lasted almost an hour and a half.  Then I had an appointment with the surgeon, who decided to take the drain out that still was in after over a month.  The dumb thing just wouldn't quit draining.  Of course I was scared to death of that.  I kept saying, "but I haven't psyched myself up for this."  They did it anyway, and I didn't feel a thing.  I'm such a chicken.  I also got another shot of saline in my expander while there, then it was on to the 

Oncologist.  

I was as nervous as a tick, and they knew it.  My heart rate was above a hundred and my blood pressure was on the high side.  Dr. Ward told me he'd think there was something wrong if I wasn't nervous.  They talked me through the procedure and calmed me down somewhat, then sent the orders to the Infusion Room.  Pat and I walked the long walk there, and I checked in. They told me it would be awhile, so if we wanted to get some lunch we could.  It was about 1pm then and my appointment for the infusion was 1:30pm.  We ate lunch at the Point, a very nice restaurant on the top floor of the Huntsman that is surrounded by windows and has a beautiful view of the Salt Lake valley.  We then returned to the Infusion area and waited, and waited. Finally, at nearly 3pm, they called me in.  I found out the holdup had been that they were waiting for the MUGAScan results.  Once they got those, they could proceed.  That's one thing I really appreciate about being at the Huntsman.  Everyone is on the same page and they make sure things are done right, and I just have to be there.  

The Infusion Room is pretty intimidating.  It's a very long room with a long nurses station in the middle.  There are recliner chairs placed around the room (probably eighteen to twenty), and each of these has a chair next to it for someone to sit with you.  My Paddy, of course, is my someone.  There is  a portable IV station at each chair and there is even an individual TV on a retractable arm for each chair.  I was given a recliner to sit in, and immediately noticed that every chair was filled.  That was pretty humbling.  I'm definitely not alone in this battle. 

The nurse I was assigned to came over and talked to me for awhile and let me know how everything was going to go.   I had a Power Port placed in my chest the Friday before all of this began.  This was done so  I wouldn't have to have any more IV's done in my arm. This is another thing I learned after having my mastectomy.  I can't have any blood pressures or IV's done on my right arm anymore, because it can cause lymphedema.  That limits everything to my left arm, and like my daughter, Amy, told me, the veins in cancer patients get to the point after awhile where they're like strings, and they're hard and extremly difficult to access.  The thought of being poked and proded for four months was enough to make me have no second thoughts about having a port.  Anyway, back to the chemo treatment.  It took two nurses and three tries to access the port, because it was still swollen and tender from the surgery.  Not Fun!!  But, once it was accessed, everything went like clock work.  I read, listened to my IPod, took a nap, and before I knew it, the treatment was over and we were on our way home.  It took nearly three hours, but I got through it, and didn't feel much worse for the wear.

The first thing I did when I got home, was take one of the anti-nausea pills they had perscribed. I wanted to do everything I could to prevent nausea.  One of my visiting-teachers from church, Ardeth Kapp, brought us dinner, and I even felt like eating it.  I went to bed and had no problems.  I kept up with the anti-nausea pills for the next four days, and didn't have any trouble with it at all.  Thank goodness.  My daughter, Amy, the nurse, gave me a Neulasta shot the day after the chemo.  This is supposed to help boost my white blood count, so it won't drop so far with the chemo, then I can have the chemo every two weeks instead of every three, thus shortening the amount of time spent on it.  The side effect, bone aches and pains.  These didn't show up till the next day when I was in the shower.  I was washing my hair and suddenly, my arms felt like lead weights and I could hardly move.  I had to sit down for a few minutes just to finish and get out.  Wow!  The only other problem I had during the time following my first treatment was a rapid heart beat with a cough.  This scared me, because I thought it was my heart, itself, but after another visit to the doctor and several tests, it was determined I was having an asthma reaction to the gunky inversion we were having in our area.  They put me on Advair, and it seems to have corrected it.  There's just way too much to think about.  I think I'll go read my book and zone out.   

A New Year and A new Life

The week following Christmas was a time of R&R (rest and relaxation).  A dear friend, Larry Tobin, sent me a card that said it best:  "When you're not feeling well, your life stops.  There's no juggling work and home.  You don't take any phone calls and answer a million e-mails, you don't cook, clean house, or do any grocery shopping.  MILK IT FOR ALL IT'S WORTH."  (and I did).

I saw the plastic surgeon, Dr. Agarwal, on December 30th, and he did pull one of the drains that was sticking out of me.  That was nice, but I still had one in.  That's okay, I'd much rather have a drain sticking out of me than be filled with fluid or infection.

New Year's Eve was a very quiet affair, needless to say.  We did buy some king crab legs, potato salad and coleslaw for our traditional dinner.  My daughter, Amy, joined us with her baby daughter, Callie to see in the New Year.  Her husband, Aaron, was out of town on business.   We watched 'Mama Mia', which was a fun chick flick (Pat loved it).  Then watched the ball drop in Times Square and were in bed by 1am.

The beginning of the new year was pretty quiet.  We celebrated our son Mark's 25th birthday on January 3rd.  We took him to see 'Yes Man' with Jim Carey (I about lost it a couple of times), and we had sushi together, before he was off to celebrate with his friends.  We took our adult family to dinner for our son-in-law Aaron's birthday (Dec. 26th) and Mark's (again), and Pat and I enjoyed the Utah Symphony performing Mozart's Piano Cocerto. I don't believe in sitting home and pining away.  

Then the rounds of appointments in preparation for the chemotherapy treatments began.  I saw a Rehab Therapist to show me massage techniques to help prevent lymph-edema in my right arm.  I was so happy to learn these, because I have a step-grandmother that had had a mastectomy back in the 1960's who suffered from lymph-edema, and it was an ugly condition. Her arm would swell up to twice it's normal size.  It would become inflammed and she would have fevers and chills, just like she had a case of the flu.  If there is anything I can do to avoid that, I will.    

 Another thing I learned from the Rehab Therapist was that if I travel by plane I need to wear a compression sleeve on my right arm to prevent it from swelling, etc., since the air pressure at 35 thousand feet is less than ground level (even with cabin pressurization).  For crying-out-loud, there's too much stuff that I took for granted for so long, that now I have to be aware of and take care of.  This really if going to be a new life. 

I decided that if I was going to be doing chemotherapy, I needed to have my teeth checked and cleaned before I started, so that was next.  I also knew that I would most likely lose my hair, so I went wig shopping.  I found a really cute wig that looked almost exactly like my own, so of course, I bought it along with some hats and caps to cover my eventual baldness when I didn't want to wear a wig.  

I had a CTScan of my chest and abdominal areas to make sure there was no cancer any place else.  This was done because they had found some cancer in two of  sentinel nodes at the time of my surgery.  They had taken out the other sentinel node and six of the axillary nodes, but no other cancer was found.  I don't know if any of you have had  a CTScan, but it's no big deal.  The worst part is drinking the half-gallon of contrast liquid before the test.  They try to give it a nice sounding name "Berry  Punch", but it still tastes lousy.  

I met with Dr. Agarwal's nurse, Vicki Rosser, a couple of times and began the expansion of the cadaver expander they put in at the time of my mastectomy.  That was another interesting experience.  This expander has a small metal disc on the top part of it that has a tiny hole in it (kind of like a tire where you pump air into it).  Vicki finds the hole with a magnet and marks it, then sticks a tiny needle in and pumps in a saline solution.  It doesn't hurt, but I do get some wierd sensations of hardness and fullness on that side.  They tell me that's normal, whatever normal is. 

After this busy week, Pat and I took our three grandsons to see 'Walking With Dinosaurs'.  This was a live presentation using life-size animatronic dinosaurs.  It was not only entertaining, but educational.  They had a running dialogue by an actor playing a paleontologist that explained the different periods of the dinosaurs and the types that existed during those periods.  It was fascinating and our grandsons were mesmerized.  It was definitely worth the time and money, and it was a nice break after a crazy week.      

Merry Christmas - 2008!!

Christmas morning turned out to be  beautiful.  The storm that had been predicted had not arrived, the sky was clear, and the snow that was on the ground, sparkled in the sunshine.  Our Christmas tradition is to have brunch and then open gifts, but since Colin stayed over, Santa had found him, and there was a load of gifts under the tree for him. He couldn't wait till Amy's family arrived, so we had the first of the great gift rushes in the morning.  I felt pretty good.  In fact, I was surprised I didn't have any more pain than I had. I sat in the living room and enjoyed watching Colin open one surprise after another.  It was the beginning of a merry Christmas!

Amy and her family arrived about noon for brunch and the second great gift rush.  We had a yummy brunch, all handled by our children.  I just sat and watched, which is pretty difficult for me to do.  Pat's nephew, David, and his wife, Janna, showed up to enjoy brunch with us and of course help open gifts.  We had a very nice afternoon together.  About the time that I thought I needed to lie down and have a break, my niece, Lisseth, and her family showed up.  So, another round of Christmas cheer.  

Christmas night came, and we were all about to sit down and play a game of Saturday Night Live Trivial Pursuit, when the snowstorm, that had been predicted, showed up.  When it arrived, it arrived with a slam.  Amy and her family barely made it home, before the roads were bad. Mark tried to get back to Salt Lake City, but wound up turning around and coming back to our house.  He wound up leaving his car about a block away, because he couldn't get up the hill. Erin, Colin, and their dog, Scout, stayed, too.  So we had another houseful.

It was a wonderful Christmas, and the best part was that my surgery was over, the tumor had been removed, I was home, and feeling pretty dog-gone good, considering everything.  Needless to say, I slept very well Christmas night.    

Chriatmas Eve and a Trip Home

December 24th, Christmas Eve!  I had a little bit of breakfast, but wasn't feeling like eating much. They were still trying to give me a Loritab along with the Toradol (switching each time) and the Loritab was still making me sick to my stomach.  I went for a short walk, and came back and got sick.  Pat showed up about noon, hoping to take me home, but that wasn't going to happen till I kept my food down, and was able to have a couple of good walks.  We both wanted to get home as soon as possible because a big snowstorm was due by evening.  The afternoon was spent trying to get myself to the point where I could go home.  Dr. Agarwal came in and signed my discharge, but with the stipulation that I was not getting sick when I went walking. 

My niece, Lisseth, and her family came to visit in the afternoon.  I also had a couple of visits from family groups who were singing Christmas carols for patients.  It really was special, and made me even more determined to get home for Christmas.  Finally, about 7:30pm, I was discharged to go home.  YEA!!!!!  

My daughter, Erin and her son, Colin were there when we arrived.  We talked them into staying overnight because the snowtorm was supposed to arrive before morning.  Besides, having Colin here to share Christmas with would be so much more fun.  My son, Mark also showed up, so we had most of our family with us.  I, of course, went straight to bed, and immediatly fell asleep. My daughter, Amy, woke me up about 11pm to strip the drains that were in me and give me some medicine.  Then I spent a very comfortable night in my own bed, and dreamed of sugarplums dancing in my head.       

Surgery, at Last!

December 23rd came at last, and none too soon as far as I was concerned.  I wanted this thing out of me and now.  We had to be at the hospital at 9:30am.  So I was up and at it early.  I, of course, had to take a shower, shave my legs and armpits, and wash my hair.  I certainly couldn't go to the hospital without doing all of that.  You remember what your mom always said about being sure you have on clean underwear with no holes, just in case. Well, my point exactly.  

We got to the Huntsman a little before 9:30am and they took me right in to pre-op and started IV's, etc.  I had visits from a plethora of nurses and techs to do this, that and the other, and with each visit, I had to repeat my name and birthday.  They were sticklers at making sure they had the right stuff for the right patient. Comforting!!  Pat was with me during this part and we watched his favorite show 'Desperate Housewives', while we waited.  Pretty soon, Dr. Neumayer's assistant came in and started drawing pretty pictures all over my right boob and chest.  She even wrote the word 'yes' on my right boob.  Must make sure we take the bad one off and not the good one. 

 Then Dr. Agarwal's (plastic surgeon) assistant came in to talk to me about the type of expander they were using to prepare for the reconstruction.  Believe it or not, the expander is made of cadaver tissue.  They were doing a study to see which cadaver tissue worked the best, and wondered if I wanted to be a part of the study.  I said sure, because they would put in whichever one that came up, whether I was in the study or not. 

Finally, I met Dr. Neumayer in the Radiology Dept. to have some kind of isotops inserted into my breast so they could find and remove all the cancer.  Then it was finally off to surgery.  Needless to say, I don't remember anything beyond the surgical doors.  The next thing I knew someone was trying to get me to wake up and I was in recovery.  I didn't feel much at that point, but they told me I had a little button in my hand and if I began to hurt, just push it and it would stop the pain.  I didn't know I was dealing with Morphin, and so about every ten minutes I was pushing the button.  Pretty soon, I was higher than a kite and feeling no pain.  When I got to my room, the nurse asked me if I wanted to go for a walk.  Sure, why not.  We walked around the hall a few minutes and I suddenly felt like I was going to pass out.  I got back to the room in one piece and sat in a recliner, then immediately went into a drug reaction.  My daughter, Amy, said I went as pale as paste and started in a cold sweat.  Thank goodness she was there.  They took the Morphin away from me, which was a very good idea, and tried Loritab instead.  That was just about as bad.  It made me sick to my stomach.  Finally, Amy suggested to the doctor that maybe I'd do better on something that was not a narcotic.  They started me on Toradol, which is a high dose of Tylenol, and it worked. No pain and no reaction.  I was a much happier patient.  

My family stayed with me for quite awhile, but then I needed sleep, so everyone moved on. The night went pretty well, except that the IV in my arm started leaking, and it took three nurses several tries to find another vein to get it restarted.  That was no fun.             

The Power of Prayer

I need to say something about all the prayers that have been asked in my behalf.  I have always believed in the power of prayer, and this experience has reconfirmed those beliefs a hundred fold.

My sweet niece Lisseth Turner and her daughter, Cristina, had my name placed on the prayer lists of all the LDS temples between Bountiful, Utah and SanDiego, California.  My dear friends, Jan and Jerry Burgess prayed for me with their Bible study group.  Becky and Mort Patterson had prayers given for my in their church, as did our friends Dave and Vanene McShane.  People from all over the country were praying for me, and I want you all to know what great strength they gave me, and still do. 

The night before my surgery, my home teachers from my LDS Ward, gave me a special blessing. Bishop Carl Webster offered the blessing, and Bishop Rick Britton assisted.  I felt so calm after that blessing and I knew everything was going to be all right.  

I think so much of the time in our lives we take things for granted, including our Father in Heaven and His importance to us.  Then when something like this happens, we become refocused on what is really important.  I'm so thankful for my beliefs and my faith.  My life would be far less meaningful without it.  

Thank you to all of you who have kept me in your thoughts and prayers. You're the very best family and friends a girl could have.  

Preparing for Surgery

The time between my my first visit with Dr. Neumayer and my surgery was filled with one appointment after another.  I had an MRI on both of my breasts on December 16th.  That was an interesting experience.  I laid on this curved table, face down, with my boobs hanging down in these two holes, and holding on to these two bars.  The tech asked me if I was comfortable. What are you supposed to say?  Anyway this scan lasts for about 30 minutes, and you're supposed to lay still the entire time.  It's very noisy, so they gave my some earplugs to kind of deaden the noise a little, and they played some music through them, but it didn't help much.  I knew after this test that my modest dignity was a thing of the past.  I was glad to have that one over.  The reason for the MRI was to make sure there was no cancer in the left breast and no more in the right breast.  

They had found an area of calcification when they did the ultrasound on Dec. 2nd and it was confirmed by the MRI, so the next test was a cumputer generated biopsy of the calcification. This was another undignified test.  They had me lie on a table, face down with the boob to be biopsied hanging down in another hole.  Then they lifted the table up and worked under it. They found the area with a computer, honed in on it and took two or three samples.  It didn't hurt because they had numbed the area, and it was just a little pop, when they took the samples.  Another test to have behind me, and the results were negative.  GOOD!

After that test, I visited with the anestheseologist for a pre-op check.  I had to have a EKG because I have a Left Bundle Branch Blockage.  It shows up as a little blip on the EKG.  It hasn't affected my heart, but it's something they need to be aware of. 

After all this, I actually got to do something nice for myself.  On the Thursday before my surgery I had an hour massage with my favorite massage therapist, Carolyn Reddington.  It really helped me to relax after everything that had gone on in the last two weeks.  I had to tell Carolyn about the upcoming surgery, so that was a little difficult, but she was great and I found out that she was trained to do the massage to help aleviate lymphedema, which is a condition that can develop in the arm where lymph nodes have been removed during a mastectomy.

So now I was ready for surgery.  It still was six days of waiting, and needless to say, an anxious period of time. 

My first visit at Huntsman Cancer Institute

My first appointment at the Huntsman came one week to the day after I had the diagnostic mammogram, etc.  I still believe there was some higher intervention, because when I first called to make an appointment, they couldn't get me in before the 18th of December.  Then not more than an hour after I called, they called me back and told me there had been a cancellation. That just confirmed to me that I was in the right place and the right hands. 

My appointment was for 1pm, so my daughter, Amy, her new daughter, Callie, and I were there about 12:45pm.  It wasn't until almost three hours later, that we finally got in to see Dr. Leigh Neumayer.  Needless to say, I was getting very anxious, and wondered if I WAS in the right place, but when I finally met Dr. Neumayer and her clinical nurse, Vicki Rosser, I was put at total ease.  They were very personable and spent at least and hour and a half with us, explaining the results of my biopsy, what it all meant, talking about my options as far as surgery, etc.  I told them at first that I was interested in a lumpectomy, but then they explained the survival rates of a lumpectomy versus a mastectomy and what would have to be done since the tumor was under the nipple.  By the time, I left I was leaning very seriously toward a mastectomy with reconstructive surgery.  

While I was at the appointment, I was introduced to Dr. Jay Agarwal, the plastic surgeon that would do the reconstructive surgery, if I decided on that option.  He was also very informative, and I was shown a catalog of some of the surgeries that he had done.  I was really impressed.  It was very difficult to tell the difference between the reconstructed breast and the real one.  He told me about the two types of surgery.  One that was done with an insert or one using your own muscle and tissue.  This one includes a tummy tuck, which I thought was a bonus to an otherwise difficult decision.

By the time Amy and I left, at nearly 7pm, my head was so full of information that all I wanted to do was go home and go to  bed, but we didn't.  We went to dinner, and talked, and I was so glad that I had taken Amy with me.  With her medical background, she heard and understood so much that just basically went over my head.   Just talking to her helped me to make some important decisions.  By the time we got home, I had made up my mind that I was going to have a mastectomy and reconstructive surgery.  I've never had any qualms about my choice since then.  

My surgery was set for December 23rd.  At first I thought,"but that's Christmas".  Then I started thinking that the best Christmas gift I could have would be to have the tumor GONE!!!!, even if I had to be in the hospital on Christmas.  I wanted it out as fast as possible. 

So, I was ready to move on and move on I did.   

Welcome to my Blog!

For those of you, who didn't know, I was diagnosed with breast cancer on December 2, 2008.  I set up this Blog so I can talk about it.  I think I'm doing this more for my own therapy than anything else, but if what I talk about can help anyone that is going through or might go through the same thing, then that's great.  I also thought it would be a good place for those of you who might want to check on my progress, to find out how I'm doing.  Anyway, WELCOME!!!

The first thing I want to say to all my female friends and family is GET YOUR YEARLY MAMMOGRAMS,  and if you feel like something is wrong, GET IT CHECKED OUT!  I've had yearly mammograms for at least ten years, if not more, and they always came back normal.  My last regular mammogram was in February 2008.  It came back normal.  I didn't notice anything different with my breast until the middle to latter part of October 2008.  Then I just noticed that sometimes when I slept on my stomach I'd be awakened with pain in my right breast, especially around the nipple.  I didn't think much of it, because there was nothing else that seemed different and it didn't hurt all the time.  I just thought I might be sleeping on it wrong. 

I had set up an appointment with my regular physician for my annual checkup on November 20th.  She won't renew any perscriptions unless she sees her patient's in person, and I thank her with all my heart for that attitude.  Otherwise, who knows how long it would have been before I discovered this.  Anyway, the day before I went in for my checkup, I noticed that the nipple on my right breast looked like it was inverting. (Sorry, guys, I know this is probably more than you wanted to know)  I knew that was not good.  So during my checkup I told her all this and she set me up for a diagnostic mammogram on December 2nd.

My appointment was for 1:30pm at the LDS Hospital Radiology Dept. and four hours later I went home.  The mammography machine at LDS is digital, and can see things much more clearly.  They saw something, so they wanted to do an ultrasound, which showed something even more clearly, so then they wanted to do a biopsy.  They had a difficult time finding my doctor to get permission to do it, as she had left her office for the day, but they finally got ahold of her, and went ahead with it.  I thought at the time, ask me for permission, because I'll give it.

They did an ultrasound guided biopsy of the tumor, taking three samples, and finally sent me home, telling me they would have the results by Friday (this was Tuesday).  

Needless to say, the next couple of days were rather nerve racking.  I think I knew in my heart, even though my brain didn't want to admit it, that it was malignant.  The only thing that kept me from going bonkers at the time was the fact that I had a group of women coming to my home on December 4th for a meeting, and I wanted my Christmas decorations put up before that.  So, I dived in and got that done, and tried not to think of the other.  Finally, Friday morning arrived and I called my doctor.  Of course she wasn't available and would return my call.  She called back about an hour later and told me what I already knew.  In fact, when she called, she said "I think you already know this, but it's malignant."  She told me she was sorry, and we talked a few minutes about the pathology report, then she gave me some names of surgeons that I might want to call, and wished me luck. 

My first thought after our conversation was to call my brother, Ted, who is a Pediatrician in Price, Utah.  Then I thought I should call my daughter, Amy.  She's a nurse and I thought she might know who to call.  I think I was in a mild shock.  I wanted to do something but wasn't sure what.  Finally, I looked up the two surgeons that Dr. Sambado a suggested first.  Her first suggestions was Dr. Leigh Neumayer at the Huntsman Cancer Institute, and the second was Dr. Regina Rosenthal at the IHC Regional Hospital.  She had  told me they were both excellent, so I called Dr. Neumayer first, but her secretary was unavailable. Then I called Dr. Rosenthal's office. The soonest she could see me was the 23rd of December.  I made the appointment and then went shopping with my daughter, Amy.  I think she was more upset than I was.  I probably was still in a bit of denial.  She was also upset that I couldn't get in to see the doctor till the 23rd, so I told her I'd try to get ahold of Dr. Neumayer on Monday.  When I called on Monday, the soonest they could see me was the 18th of December.  I took the appointment and hung up.  Not an hour later, her secretary called back and said there was a cancellation for tomorrow, and do I want the appointment.  Of course, I jumped at it, and thus began my adventure in the world of cancer.