I believe I have, indeed, come to the end of this journey. I think it's all been said on this blog. For me, the journey is complete. I received my diagnosis, followed treatment suggestions, had my hair fall out and grow back, and my reconstruction is 99% complete. All in all, it could have been much worse and I know how blessed I am. I don't carry the gene which was a concern, so to have that test result come back negative, was a huge relief. This is not an experience I wish on anyone, but it's one I'm not entirely sorry I had. I found out a lot about myself and I am still discovering things. I doubt I will revisit this blog again so I'll try to leave some thoughts.
Cancer is not an automatic death sentence.
If you should be given this diagnosis, breathe....deeply....laughter is okay....I should know.
Visit those doctors that are recommended, write down their treatment options....Get a second opinion. You have time, use it. Remember, none of the doctors telling you what you should do, will be taking surgeries, or treatments, with you. The ultimate decision is yours. Don't do what you think others will want you to do...trust your gut.
Ladies...I can't stress it enough......BREAST SELF EXAMS ARE CRUCIAL!!! Nobody should know your breasts better than you.
It's okay to let your family in on your fears and struggles...don't try to be super human in their eyes.
Lastly...laugh. Laugh long, hard and often. When I was first diagnosed, a GAP type store was selling t-shirts. They were selling one that was printed, "Who needs brains when I have these?" Of course referring to breasts. I so wanted one to wear on the day I was to have surgery..I thought it would be funny and I needed to keep my humor that day. But, thanks to all women that are so easily offended, and do everything in their power to prevent the rest of us from having a good laugh, they were taken off the shelves before I could get one. "Hags without humor", I've never let anyone know that's my term for them , now I've said it in a public forum and I don't care. That's what they were, and are.
I tried to find jokes about chemo online and only found one: How many chemotherapy patients does it take to change a lightbulb?
None, they're all too tired to climb the ladder. That was the funniest one I could find....sad.
I don't know that I've helped anyone, I don't know if anyone really reads this blog, but as I said in the beginning....this has been more for me. If you're reading, thanks.
Bye!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
"Thank you sir, may I have another?"
Chemo...where do I start? I guess I'll start with my start of treatment and see where we end up. December 9, 2005. First of all, can I just say how dismal the waiting area was where I had to go for treatment? The place has since been remodeled...thank God. It was so depressing, everyone sitting around a dreary waiting room, looking at each other trying to figure out where each one of us happened to be in the process. The only distractions being an old 13" t.v. in the corner, and the comings and goings of others. Sad, sad, sad...I don't know why I didn't enjoy the place more (sarcasm in case you missed it). Upon my last visit, about 6 months ago, the place had been enlarged, the waiting areas, yes plural now, were bright and open, with plasma t.v.'s at each end. When going back to the exam rooms, I no longer had to pass the "Chemo lounge". This is where the fun is...all the people in their reclining chairs, some with blankets, some with hair, some awake and some just there...vacant in a way, hooked up to I.V.'s of all kinds of poisons. I know my first time by the room, I couldn't look away...knowing that soon, I would be in one of those chairs and people were going to pass by that room and look at me...and wonder.....everyone in that room and in that building, wondered. I'm not ashamed to admit I was afraid, not of dying, I've never been afraid I would die from breast cancer, but of all of the side effects of chemo. I can't even call it chemotherapy, those two words seem like an oxymoron, to me. Therapy??? In my mind, not so much. They should call it what it is....POISON, a necessary poison. It will attack all the bad cells, but unfortunately, some healthy ones as well....ergo the hair loss, loss of appetite, lack of energy, mental numbness, and a general feeling of yuckiness (my term).
My doctor, before the first treatment, prescribed a heavy duty anti-nausea medication. I called a few pharmacies in the area to find out whether they could fill the prescription....3 could not, of those I was told the 3, keep that in mind, capsules would cost $1200, which was not covered by my insurance....what????? My last phone call was to Kroger pharmacy, God bless them, yes they could get it, not something they stocked, and it would be covered by my insurance and all I would have to pay was the co-pay...let's just say Kroger became my pharmacy of choice!! 3 little capsules, that stood between me and a night with my head in the toilet. I had horrific heartburn...nothing would get rid of it, that first night was rough, but not as bad as it could have been without the capsules.
The next morning, forcing myself out of bed, I was off to work. OH...but first, I forgot, I had to go back to the oncologist and get an injection that would boost my white blood cell count. The last thing they wanted for me was to any kind of infection. That shot hurt so bad!!! I think I hated those more than the I.V. needle. Then it was off to work.... I'm not kidding, by noon, I was exhausted...the people in my office forced me home and to bed. The process became routine, treatment, rough night and next few days, feel better than time for another treatment....appetite became non-existent. After my 3rd treatment, I was lying in bed and I heard a very strong voice say to me, "enough". The next day I called my oncologist and he recommended a second opinion, as did my children. I only got the second opinion for my children...I was okay with just quitting. The second opinion oncologist agreed, but only if I took the 4th treatment. The other 4 treatments, with a different chemo drug, was not essential. I was, according to him and my own oncologist, at a 90% cure rate with the surgery and the initial chemo treatments. The additional 4 wouldn't add much to the percentages...I agreed whole heartedly, and the decision was made. I know I made the right decision for me....I feel it was God talking to me, and when God talks, especially that strongly, I listen.
Ta,ta for now
My doctor, before the first treatment, prescribed a heavy duty anti-nausea medication. I called a few pharmacies in the area to find out whether they could fill the prescription....3 could not, of those I was told the 3, keep that in mind, capsules would cost $1200, which was not covered by my insurance....what????? My last phone call was to Kroger pharmacy, God bless them, yes they could get it, not something they stocked, and it would be covered by my insurance and all I would have to pay was the co-pay...let's just say Kroger became my pharmacy of choice!! 3 little capsules, that stood between me and a night with my head in the toilet. I had horrific heartburn...nothing would get rid of it, that first night was rough, but not as bad as it could have been without the capsules.
The next morning, forcing myself out of bed, I was off to work. OH...but first, I forgot, I had to go back to the oncologist and get an injection that would boost my white blood cell count. The last thing they wanted for me was to any kind of infection. That shot hurt so bad!!! I think I hated those more than the I.V. needle. Then it was off to work.... I'm not kidding, by noon, I was exhausted...the people in my office forced me home and to bed. The process became routine, treatment, rough night and next few days, feel better than time for another treatment....appetite became non-existent. After my 3rd treatment, I was lying in bed and I heard a very strong voice say to me, "enough". The next day I called my oncologist and he recommended a second opinion, as did my children. I only got the second opinion for my children...I was okay with just quitting. The second opinion oncologist agreed, but only if I took the 4th treatment. The other 4 treatments, with a different chemo drug, was not essential. I was, according to him and my own oncologist, at a 90% cure rate with the surgery and the initial chemo treatments. The additional 4 wouldn't add much to the percentages...I agreed whole heartedly, and the decision was made. I know I made the right decision for me....I feel it was God talking to me, and when God talks, especially that strongly, I listen.
Ta,ta for now
Monday, September 20, 2010
Let's start with the surgery.
I was trying to figure out where I wanted to go with this post...surgery, chemo, reconstruction or posting random thoughts. I thought about maybe just leaving the topic up to whomever, if anyone, was reading the blog. Let the reader post some questions and I would answer, but what if truly nobody is reading? I would be waiting an awfully long time to answer questions from nobody...right? So, I decided to attempt a kind of chronological post. I've pretty much covered how I was diagnosed and the meeting with the surgeon, but I haven't addressed the surgery itself. I must preface the post by stating, thanks to the miraculous powers of morphine, it might be a little fuzzy. I do remember the morning of surgery. For my family, if I have not said to you how truly grateful I am to have all of you and how much I love you for showing up at the hospital.....I apologize, but I am and I do so very much!! I will say though, they partied at lunch while I was out of it!! :))))
I got to the hospital early, of course because hospitals want you there early and make you hang around and wait....which I did. I don't think I need to describe the usual surgery preps here....it would bore me to tears to do so and you to read it...we'll just say, checked in, checked over and in my hospital gown on a gurney. The breast health nurse, Jackie, what a wonderful person...I can't stress that enough, she came in and explained they would be putting a radioactive type of chip in the spot of the tumor. This would enable the surgeon to find the exact spot of the tumor. She held my hand all the way through that procedure, which she said would hurt, but didn't. I felt bad, she was holding my hand tighter than I was holding hers...I think it may of hurt her more than me :)) I didn't feel a thing...the funniest part was the techs in radiology were having a potluck and they put the food in the treatment room, which upset Jackie and the radiologist inserting the isotope ( I know that's probably the wrong term, but I'm using it anyway). Food around radioactive materials...made me laugh then and now, but also made me very hungry at the time.
Back to the pre-op room and visits from my Mom, the kids and my Dad. The kids said a prayer for me and my Dad stayed and held my hand....until it was time to go to surgery...that's the last lucid memory I have of that day. I remember, so very vaguely, waking up in my room and seeing my nephew Joey and his girlfriend Molly, then lights out again. Later that night, my roommate was having some sort of trouble and I remember her signing herself out...I was happy because she was loud and I was sleepy. In the middle of the night I woke up in pain and sick. The nurse brought crackers and sprite...but no go. The hospital staff was cleaning the room because of the vacancy left by my roommate and I remember a woman had just finished the bathroom and I knew I was going to be sick....let's just say I remember doing a lot of apologizing to her. I was in pain...serious pain. I thought I could handle it, and tried, but when the nurse came back she gave me a shot of morphine and I was so grateful...the warmth spread over my incision, the pain was gone, and I was out!
I went home the next morning...funny I don't remember much about the day and even trying to remember it now, I can't. I know the night was awful, I couldn't sleep, and no matter how I tried to position myself looking for relief, the pain was awful. I spent that night mostly awake, and crying. Fortunately the next morning, my Dad and Mom showed up...I should explain here I'm lucky enough to have 2 Mom's...one is divorced from my Dad, the other is married to my Dad. My Mom and Dad brought tempurpedic pillows and they, along with the one I got from the hospital, were lifesavers. My left arm needed support to prevent pain and later, when I was able to sleep on my stomach again, the pillows filled the void where the breast had been. I was bandaged, I had drains coming out of the incisions and a special support bra....that looked awful but felt really good. I felt much better the 2nd day and progressively better each day after. There was a lot I wasn't allowed to do, driving being one of them, so I spent a lot of time sitting around with my arm propped on a pillow...like the Queen of England!! Not really as much fun as it may sound. Okay...I'm finished for now. If anyone is out there and you do have any questions, ask me...I don't mind. I'll answer just about anything...
ta, ta for now
I got to the hospital early, of course because hospitals want you there early and make you hang around and wait....which I did. I don't think I need to describe the usual surgery preps here....it would bore me to tears to do so and you to read it...we'll just say, checked in, checked over and in my hospital gown on a gurney. The breast health nurse, Jackie, what a wonderful person...I can't stress that enough, she came in and explained they would be putting a radioactive type of chip in the spot of the tumor. This would enable the surgeon to find the exact spot of the tumor. She held my hand all the way through that procedure, which she said would hurt, but didn't. I felt bad, she was holding my hand tighter than I was holding hers...I think it may of hurt her more than me :)) I didn't feel a thing...the funniest part was the techs in radiology were having a potluck and they put the food in the treatment room, which upset Jackie and the radiologist inserting the isotope ( I know that's probably the wrong term, but I'm using it anyway). Food around radioactive materials...made me laugh then and now, but also made me very hungry at the time.
Back to the pre-op room and visits from my Mom, the kids and my Dad. The kids said a prayer for me and my Dad stayed and held my hand....until it was time to go to surgery...that's the last lucid memory I have of that day. I remember, so very vaguely, waking up in my room and seeing my nephew Joey and his girlfriend Molly, then lights out again. Later that night, my roommate was having some sort of trouble and I remember her signing herself out...I was happy because she was loud and I was sleepy. In the middle of the night I woke up in pain and sick. The nurse brought crackers and sprite...but no go. The hospital staff was cleaning the room because of the vacancy left by my roommate and I remember a woman had just finished the bathroom and I knew I was going to be sick....let's just say I remember doing a lot of apologizing to her. I was in pain...serious pain. I thought I could handle it, and tried, but when the nurse came back she gave me a shot of morphine and I was so grateful...the warmth spread over my incision, the pain was gone, and I was out!
I went home the next morning...funny I don't remember much about the day and even trying to remember it now, I can't. I know the night was awful, I couldn't sleep, and no matter how I tried to position myself looking for relief, the pain was awful. I spent that night mostly awake, and crying. Fortunately the next morning, my Dad and Mom showed up...I should explain here I'm lucky enough to have 2 Mom's...one is divorced from my Dad, the other is married to my Dad. My Mom and Dad brought tempurpedic pillows and they, along with the one I got from the hospital, were lifesavers. My left arm needed support to prevent pain and later, when I was able to sleep on my stomach again, the pillows filled the void where the breast had been. I was bandaged, I had drains coming out of the incisions and a special support bra....that looked awful but felt really good. I felt much better the 2nd day and progressively better each day after. There was a lot I wasn't allowed to do, driving being one of them, so I spent a lot of time sitting around with my arm propped on a pillow...like the Queen of England!! Not really as much fun as it may sound. Okay...I'm finished for now. If anyone is out there and you do have any questions, ask me...I don't mind. I'll answer just about anything...
ta, ta for now
Saturday, September 18, 2010
I'll skip the ribbon, thank you.
No offense to those wearing the pink ribbon or buying the pink ribbon....I do not. It's not something I, by choice, do. I've never been one to "advertise" my support of breast cancer funding. It was brought to mind again today, it's something I just don't do. Let me be clear though...I make donations, I do so in my own way. Today, at the ox roast, there was an opportunity to donate for breast cancer...make a donation and you could sign your name to a pink paw print. The paw print is a symbol of the Grandview High School Bobcat mascot. I, like always when given this kind of opportunity, signed my paw print, "For all conquerors". I don't consider myself a survivor, to me survivor means I must have been a victim and I refuse to think of myself as a victim.
This is the way I think about it...those of you that think otherwise are, of course, well within your right to do so. Each one of us carries our own experience into these things and this is my experience. Every post about breast cancer, is my experience. There is no right or wrong. I have never felt survivor was the right moniker for me, neither is wearing a pink ribbon. For ME, that is like a beacon drawing attention to me...and it might as well scream..."Hey, look everybody, she's had breast cancer". In my mind, I am a conqueror, I know I have this thing beaten and it will never come back and try to inflict itself upon me...it cannot. Again...my thoughts, my experience and my blog and I can say whatever I want.
Ta,ta for now
This is the way I think about it...those of you that think otherwise are, of course, well within your right to do so. Each one of us carries our own experience into these things and this is my experience. Every post about breast cancer, is my experience. There is no right or wrong. I have never felt survivor was the right moniker for me, neither is wearing a pink ribbon. For ME, that is like a beacon drawing attention to me...and it might as well scream..."Hey, look everybody, she's had breast cancer". In my mind, I am a conqueror, I know I have this thing beaten and it will never come back and try to inflict itself upon me...it cannot. Again...my thoughts, my experience and my blog and I can say whatever I want.
Ta,ta for now
Friday, September 17, 2010
Let's take a closer look, shall we?
What did I expect to happen? I know I can't post the things I post and not illicit reactions. If I don't want reactions, then why post? If I feel the need to vent, isn't the idea of venting to do so openly, letting go of all that I have pent up inside? It's like exhaling. I can't hold my breath forever and in order to inhale, I must exhale. In order to do this honestly, I cannot control how someone will react to my post, their reaction is their own exhaling and who am I to stifle someone's breathing....if I don't want to suffocate, how can I suffocate someone else? After a knee-jerk reaction of removing my blog from Facebook, I've decided to put it back. I cannot become comfortable with my feelings, if I'm uncomfortable with the reactions. To deal with it entirely, I cannot only deal with half...if it makes me uncomfortable, I guess I'm on the right track.
Please forgive, and try to understand, that if I pull away as though I've been burned, it's just me trying to come to terms with me...not your reactions to me. I'm trying to come to terms with how I really feel about letting all of you "in". Patience, please.
Ta,ta, for now
Please forgive, and try to understand, that if I pull away as though I've been burned, it's just me trying to come to terms with me...not your reactions to me. I'm trying to come to terms with how I really feel about letting all of you "in". Patience, please.
Ta,ta, for now
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Revisiting "Revisiting"
First, let me apologize for all the times I switched between past and present tense in the previous post....my fingers got the better of me. As someone with a degree in English, granted it is in literature and not grammar, I should know better.
I wanted to address a couple of things...I don't intend this blog as a reminder that it's been 5 years since the diagnosis "so everyone pay attention to me". What this is, is a way for me to reflect and address some of the feelings that I had and have. In my head, I handled the situation with such grace and strength, but sometimes there is a nagging, much like an annoying toothache. The kind of toothache that you know is there, but it's not bad enough to see anyone about. The nagging sometimes feels as though I didn't handle my diagnosis in a genuine fashion. By that I mean maybe I handled it the way I thought others could handle me handling it. Make sense? I don't know, if anyone will find this post, or even read it, but I need to reflect on some things.
I know, and shared, I was scared at the oncologists office...but I was petrified the day I saw the surgeon. This was real, this was not a cold, I couldn't take an anti-biotic and be done with it...nope this was major, this was cancer and this required chemo and chemo required I lose my hair. Silly isn't it to worry so much about hair? Hair grows back, but my breast would not..oh I would have the plastic surgery,but it wasn't my breast, it wasn't the one I was born with, one of the ones I nursed my children with. I'm so glad my son was with me that day....if you want to know my reactions to what the surgeon was telling me, you'll have to ask him...I felt, and still feel, like it went by in a blur and I don't really trust my memory of that visit.
I don't know why, but I feel sadder now, than I did then. I think at the time everything was moving so quickly, it just seemed as though everything was happening "boom,boom,boom"..."we'll do x,y,z". Diagnosed in October, surgery in November and chemo in December...just that fast. One piece of advice, if you're out there reading this and you, god forbid, have to go through this ...SLOW DOWN...TAKE A BREATH...YOU HAVE TIME...GET A SECOND OPINION!!!!
I would not have died by slowing down and looking at all my options...I just felt as though once the conveyor belt started, I couldn't get it stopped. Okay...enough sharing.
Ta,ta for now.
I wanted to address a couple of things...I don't intend this blog as a reminder that it's been 5 years since the diagnosis "so everyone pay attention to me". What this is, is a way for me to reflect and address some of the feelings that I had and have. In my head, I handled the situation with such grace and strength, but sometimes there is a nagging, much like an annoying toothache. The kind of toothache that you know is there, but it's not bad enough to see anyone about. The nagging sometimes feels as though I didn't handle my diagnosis in a genuine fashion. By that I mean maybe I handled it the way I thought others could handle me handling it. Make sense? I don't know, if anyone will find this post, or even read it, but I need to reflect on some things.
I know, and shared, I was scared at the oncologists office...but I was petrified the day I saw the surgeon. This was real, this was not a cold, I couldn't take an anti-biotic and be done with it...nope this was major, this was cancer and this required chemo and chemo required I lose my hair. Silly isn't it to worry so much about hair? Hair grows back, but my breast would not..oh I would have the plastic surgery,but it wasn't my breast, it wasn't the one I was born with, one of the ones I nursed my children with. I'm so glad my son was with me that day....if you want to know my reactions to what the surgeon was telling me, you'll have to ask him...I felt, and still feel, like it went by in a blur and I don't really trust my memory of that visit.
I don't know why, but I feel sadder now, than I did then. I think at the time everything was moving so quickly, it just seemed as though everything was happening "boom,boom,boom"..."we'll do x,y,z". Diagnosed in October, surgery in November and chemo in December...just that fast. One piece of advice, if you're out there reading this and you, god forbid, have to go through this ...SLOW DOWN...TAKE A BREATH...YOU HAVE TIME...GET A SECOND OPINION!!!!
I would not have died by slowing down and looking at all my options...I just felt as though once the conveyor belt started, I couldn't get it stopped. Okay...enough sharing.
Ta,ta for now.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
"Seems like a mighty long time"
I guess it has been a mighty long time....I started this blog just about 5 years ago, deleted it, and then thought I should bring it back. I started this blog when Bob was going to Iraq, the first time, and I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was a way to keep him updated on what was going on, and it became a place for me to "let loose" with some of my emotions. I don't know if anyone still reads blogs, but even without one reader, this again will become a place to "let loose" as I approach year 5 of being cancer free. Funny, up until this milestone, and it is, I never really thought much about year 5!! Oooooooooo....year 5....here it comes...watch out!! It really did kind of sneak up on me...5 years wow!
A little history is in order I think. Oct. 2005...breast self-exam, and if you're not doing those...SHAME ON YOU!!!!!!!!!, felt something strange, hard, unusually hard. Had my mammogram scheduled, and when asked if I had noticed anything different....well yeah, this crazy hard thing in my left breast. Hmmmmm....2 additional x-rays, wait, ultrasound-alright, still was feeling okay, not alarmed. In the middle of the ultrasound, the doctor came in and wanted to move me to a different machine and she took over the task of the ultrasound. Still not worried...she said "there is a little something", she wants to do a biopsy. Okay...Oct. 18, biopsy....after the biopsy was finished, which the numbing hurt like he**, the doctor put her hand on my shoulder and said they would call my doc with the results...I knew, I just knew, there was something in her face, the way she put her hand on my shoulder, or maybe I knew at the ultrasound, but I knew it was cancer. She said it would take 3-5 days for the results, but I knew it wouldn't take that long. I remember driving to the bank that afternoon, and trying to figure out how I would tell my children....when I got home that evening, my doc. called and confirmed what I thought.
Funny....literally...I laughed like a fool, it just seemed too absurd to be real.....got the info about surgeon, etc., called my children. That is not open for discussion here...that's between me, and them. If you want to know, ask them.
Visit with surgeon, breast health nurse (angels if they exist in person), talk of surgery, chemo and that whole fun....surgery scheduled.....done, home, pain, drains, bandages, had a tissue expander implanted in prep for reconstruction. Met the plastic surgeon, made plans, started the expansion and call to oncologist.
The oncologist visit was scary, to say the least...not very pleasant to hear all the wonderful side effects of chemo, and we mapped out a treatment plan. Chemo: 12/9/05....and so it began.....4 treatments of one type of poison, 4 treatments of another type of poison spaced 2 weeks apart....joy of joys. Just when I would start to feel a little more like myself, ahhhh....another round of chemo! 12/30/05, the day of Bob's going away to IQ party, my hair fell out. I woke up that morning with the biggest knot of hair at the back of my head....tried to brush it, but all the hair, it was too much. So genius that I was, and am, decided I should wash it out, let me just say this was probably one of the worst decisions I have ever made. As I sat at my vanity and tried to dry it, again big mistake, I had a part on my head that was to say the least an inch and a half wide. Plopped a hat on my head and went to work. Fortunately, it was half of a work day for the New Year holiday, and I drove up to a shop in Arlington that specializes in hats, scarves and wigs. Again, something that I don't feel like sharing right now. Off to Bob's party, can't hang out in the kitchen, cause I'm shedding like a dog with mange, so after the party I get my head shaved by my brother Joe. My nephew Jamey shaved his too....in all the trauma, wonderful loving moments. That's a story for another day. One of the perks of hair loss was my shower time fell from 20 minutes to about 5, the hair on your head is not the only hair to go!! :))))
I'm going to break this 5 year journey into a few parts...it's, I'm discovering, too long for one entry. So as last time, ta, ta, for now!
A little history is in order I think. Oct. 2005...breast self-exam, and if you're not doing those...SHAME ON YOU!!!!!!!!!, felt something strange, hard, unusually hard. Had my mammogram scheduled, and when asked if I had noticed anything different....well yeah, this crazy hard thing in my left breast. Hmmmmm....2 additional x-rays, wait, ultrasound-alright, still was feeling okay, not alarmed. In the middle of the ultrasound, the doctor came in and wanted to move me to a different machine and she took over the task of the ultrasound. Still not worried...she said "there is a little something", she wants to do a biopsy. Okay...Oct. 18, biopsy....after the biopsy was finished, which the numbing hurt like he**, the doctor put her hand on my shoulder and said they would call my doc with the results...I knew, I just knew, there was something in her face, the way she put her hand on my shoulder, or maybe I knew at the ultrasound, but I knew it was cancer. She said it would take 3-5 days for the results, but I knew it wouldn't take that long. I remember driving to the bank that afternoon, and trying to figure out how I would tell my children....when I got home that evening, my doc. called and confirmed what I thought.
Funny....literally...I laughed like a fool, it just seemed too absurd to be real.....got the info about surgeon, etc., called my children. That is not open for discussion here...that's between me, and them. If you want to know, ask them.
Visit with surgeon, breast health nurse (angels if they exist in person), talk of surgery, chemo and that whole fun....surgery scheduled.....done, home, pain, drains, bandages, had a tissue expander implanted in prep for reconstruction. Met the plastic surgeon, made plans, started the expansion and call to oncologist.
The oncologist visit was scary, to say the least...not very pleasant to hear all the wonderful side effects of chemo, and we mapped out a treatment plan. Chemo: 12/9/05....and so it began.....4 treatments of one type of poison, 4 treatments of another type of poison spaced 2 weeks apart....joy of joys. Just when I would start to feel a little more like myself, ahhhh....another round of chemo! 12/30/05, the day of Bob's going away to IQ party, my hair fell out. I woke up that morning with the biggest knot of hair at the back of my head....tried to brush it, but all the hair, it was too much. So genius that I was, and am, decided I should wash it out, let me just say this was probably one of the worst decisions I have ever made. As I sat at my vanity and tried to dry it, again big mistake, I had a part on my head that was to say the least an inch and a half wide. Plopped a hat on my head and went to work. Fortunately, it was half of a work day for the New Year holiday, and I drove up to a shop in Arlington that specializes in hats, scarves and wigs. Again, something that I don't feel like sharing right now. Off to Bob's party, can't hang out in the kitchen, cause I'm shedding like a dog with mange, so after the party I get my head shaved by my brother Joe. My nephew Jamey shaved his too....in all the trauma, wonderful loving moments. That's a story for another day. One of the perks of hair loss was my shower time fell from 20 minutes to about 5, the hair on your head is not the only hair to go!! :))))
I'm going to break this 5 year journey into a few parts...it's, I'm discovering, too long for one entry. So as last time, ta, ta, for now!
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