Let's Get this Party Started!

One day back to the office today and then the next party starts tomorrow.

My axillary Disection is tomorrow afternoon.  The surgery is out-patient and shouldn't take too long.  I'll have one drain (always a pleasure), but don't expect anything too traumatic.  To be honest, there doesn't seem to be much to remove.  From what I can feel, there is very little tissue under my arm, so I'm not sure how much trauma I'll have in that area (should have paid more attention in anatomy class).

I'll be home recovering and ringing in the new year (just how I had planned...um, no).  Then back for follow-ups, pathology readings and talking about my chemo plan.

I am nervous about developing lymphadema in that area since the nodes will be gone and I'm bummed thinking about a spring without the energy that I want to do the things I want. My plan is to muscle through and just keep on keeping on.

I hope you had a great Christmas and have a wonderful new year planned with those you love.

An Outlier

I'm an outlier.
At least that's what the oncologist told me.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to call me surgeon about an annoying spot of tissue that I noticed around the scar of my original lymph node biopsy.  I've been running and working out more and the sleeveless workout shirts kept pressing on the spot, forcing me to not forget it.  I assumed it was some scar tissue from the original surgeries or fatty necrosis.  I called and got in that day on a cancellation. Dr. Cross did an ultrasound and said that he didn't like how it looked and did a needle biopsy.  He called two days later to tell me that is was positive.  Argh.  Over the next week, I had an MRI and PET scan.  The MRI showed that the spot in question was a lymph node, so the cancer is systemic and needs to be treated such.  PET scan came back clear (so thankful!) except for the node area in question.  We met with the oncologist Friday and he was surprised.  He said I was an outlier and that my situation was a 1 in 100 occurrence.  I should have purchased a lottery ticket.
So, I have a plan:
-  Immediately start hormone blockers
-  Schedule an axillary dissection at the beginning of January to remove the set of nodes.
-  Start four months of chemo after the surgery
-  Visit with the radiation folks about benefits.
-  Stay on hormone blockers for at least five years

So, I thought I had finished the cancer journey and just had to complain about hot flashes and all the fun things that come with menopause, but this will be another leg of the journey to get cancer-free.

I'm not thrilled, but am feeling confident about it.  My thoughts went to some very dark places for a few days, but the prognosis is good and I'm healthy, strong and snarky.  I can do this.

Thank you all for following along.  There have already been some absurd and funny situations that I'll share later.

Enjoy life, hold the ones you love, be kind and touch yourself often.  ;)

Getting Inked

I love the Time Hop app.
I hate the Time Hop app.

Some days reminders pop up and I just smile or laugh at the joy on my face or the faces of my family.  Some days reminders pop up and I think, "Really?  Has it been that long?"

This week was the two-year anniversary of my implants exchange and my hysterectemony/salping-oopherectomy.  While others were at the beach, I was having surgery that would throw me into menopause twenty years earlier than expected and give me Barbie boobies.

I also got tatted up!

I kept putting getting areola tattoos (remember, I'm an open book... if this makes you uncomfortable, then this blog isn't for you) on the back burner.  "Let's see, I have a loan closing at 10:30, lunch with a new client and then I could squeeze in the areola tattoos at 2:00.  Great, send me a Outlook appointment."  Yup, that was the actual conversation with the scheduling nurse.

I had the procedure done at Dr. Stacey's office by his nurse.  They use the same equipment that would be used for permanent eyeliner and other cosmetic procedures.  A bunch of random circle items were pulled out of the drawer.

Donut size?  No.
Half dollar size?  No.
Triangles?  Just kidding.  No.

After a few different tries, we settled on the size and placement.  After some shots of numbing med (was surprised to have more feeling in certain areas than I expected), she tattooed the area, applied some triple antibiotic and bandages and sent me on my way.  That was it.

I guess I could have skipped this step in the reconstruction process, but I'm glad I didn't.  I know that things won't be the same as they were.  I'm not trying to recreate what I had, but it is good for my mental state to not be constantly reminded of the surgery.  It's nice to glance in the mirror and almost not notice the five-inch, fading scars across each breast.  

I also got to see the great folks at Dr. Stacey's office.  They have been great through this whole process and a huge source of comfort and support.  We talked about my "portrait portfolio".  When I was going through the consultations with the surgeon, there were a lot of "before" and "after" pictures, but nothing that showed the process.  I tried to stay away from looking at things on the internet, because there is very little curation.  I decided that could be part of my contribution to future patients...pictures of my breasts.  HA!  Who would have thought...  So, at EVERY visit, we took photos.  The nurse said that the portfolio has been incredibly helpful for those that wanted to know about the different stages.  

Over the last few months, I've been put into contact with young women that are choosing to have prophylactic surgery due to their high risk.  Wow!  What badasses!  They are taking control of that variable in the life calculation and changing it.  I really have to hand it to them.  It's one thing to go through the surgeries and recovery because of a diagnosis and prescription of care, but to make the decision to go through it to reduce the risk of a "what if"...well, that's a big decision and I applaud them.  I applaud them for not running from the facts and thinking that if they don't address the risk, it just won't happen.  Knowledge is power, right.  Knowledge isn't easy and it can make things even more difficult...ignorance is bliss, right?  That's right...blissful, until you die...and then I guess you don't need to deal with it, just the family that is left behind.  Whoa, that got dark quickly.  Not my intent.

Kuddos to those women that embrace the information about their health and decide to do something about it.  Great jobs ladies!  I'd give you an air-chest bumps if you didn't currently have your turtle shell expanders in and would cause me bruising. ;)

So, keep it up my women-friends!  You are doing great!  It may not seem like it at the time, but you are really kicking some ass.  Cut yourself some slack, grab the box of Cheez Its, draw the blinds and binge watch OITNB, if that is what helps you get through this.  And, if someone has something snarky to say about it, just give them my number and I'm happy to schedule a good ole ass whooping in between client lunches and areola tattooing.

Stay strong ladies!

Update - Two Years Post-Surgery

It's been a while.

I don't post much on this blog any more and have moved my focus over to www.eileenbjennings.com.  That being said, events over the last couple of weeks have brought the subject of my breast cancer experience back to the forefront of my thoughts.  My Timehop app kept reminding me that it has been a little over two years since my mastectomy and reconstruction surgeries.  It kept reminding me that this blog was a huge part of my recovery/therapy during that time.  I have had a few friends that have been diagnosed with breast cancer and are going through their own journey with the process.  I have also had a number of friends test positive for the BRAC genes and decide to a have a prophylactic mastectomy to curb their risk of developing breast cancer.  And then yesterday, my plastic surgeon's office called yesterday.  Would I be willing to talk with a patient who has been recently diagnosed and will be having a mastectomy soon?  Of course.  The nurse also told me that they give my blog address to patients and they find it helpful.  Who knew?  Snarkiness can help?  Love it.

So here is a quick update:

-  Things are good.  All of my follow-ups with surgeons and oncologists have been good.  They tell me to be diligent, but that my risk is very low for re-occurrence.
-  Menopause has not been fun, but it hasn't been that bad either.  I was going to go through it at some point any way...why not go cold-turkey.  I have to think like a 55-year-old woman and focus on bone density, mental sharpness, etc., but it's better than cancer.
- The fake breasts are getting better.  They were very perky and high (I could hold a flashlight in my cleavage...seriously) and now things are a bit more relaxed and there is more movement.  I haven't had the last procedure (medical tattooing) because it has take a long time for my scars to fade.  That will happen soon.
-  Post-traumatic stress is real.  It took a while to internally acknowledge that what I went through was difficult and took a fair amount resolve to endure.  I didn't need to minimize it.  It happened, it was hard and I made it.

So, things aren't the same as they were pre-cancer, but they aren't bad.  We all will have challenges that we have to work through and we can't expect ourselves to remain the same through it all.

To those that read this that I will never talk with or meet.  Hang in there.  Your cancer story is your cancer story.  Don't compare it to others.  Do what feels right and keep asking for help until you feel as satisfied as you can.

Best wishes to all.

Softness of Delivery

What a difference a year makes.

The time has been flying by.  I know that everyone feels the same way, except for maybe four-year-olds that are waiting to turn five (that was a long year for me), but it has flown by.  While in the midst of all the surgeries and recoveries, I told myself that I would do different things to commemorate the year and the process.  New Year's Eve was going to include a large bonfire and copious amounts of champagne and I was going to burn my boob binder and the four-inch stack of EOBs.  Well, after half a glass of Merlot, I fell asleep at ten.  I should probably recycle that paper anyway.  I thought that on the one year anniversary of the mastectomies, I might do something special...nope.  I think I was discussing cash flow with customers and complaining about my kid at Spring Soccer (not an enjoyable experience for all involved).  

I was a little annoyed with myself for not paying attention and not marking the anniversaries with a bit more fanfare, but as I started thinking about it more, I'm okay with it.  Right?  By not having those dates seared into my active consciousness, that means that those events are less of a defining moment than I had previously expected.  Right?  Maybe?  Who knows....

Being diagnosed with breast cancer and going through a year of aggressive surgeries and recoveries was a big deal.  But....  It's relative.  There are people out there dealing with a lot heavier stuff than what I had to go through.  I'm thankful for my circumstances and that it's over.  

Lately, certain social and professional interactions seem to annoy me much more than they used to.  I've been doing a lot of introspection and trying to gauge if it's a side-effect of forced menopause or if everyone is just a lot more annoying in 2014.  Part of it is the hormones.  Having 80% of one's estrogen shut down in one fell swoop can take a toll on one's "softness of delivery", but I also think I'm focussing on the little things too much.  In 2013 I didn't have the available mental bandwidth to deal with certain things, so they didn't even register with me.  I've lost some of that perspective.  I need to ask myself, "Is this really that important in the scheme of things?"  If not, then I need to try and keep it from taking up bandwidth.

It's possible that I'm suffering from a little PTSD (self-diagnosed, of course).  While I was going through the everything in 2013, I didn't think of it as that traumatic, but maybe it was.  This was a good realization to vocalize.  I'm not trying to compare my situation with returning combat veterans, but 2013 was traumatic for me.  

It was traumatic.
It sucked.
I was a badass, but it wasn't easy.
I pushed my recovery and tried to keep all the balls in the air.
I worried about how others were dealing with the situation.

That being said,

2013 is over.
2014 is happening.
I'm here.
I feel good.
I'm thankful.

Potential for the Positive

Ah, the new year.  I was so focused on getting through 2013 and seeing it die in a fiery blaze fueled by Hibiclens, bandages and whiskey that I was slightly disappointed when the good ole new year rolled in.  I didn't make any resolutions, but did give myself a few ideas for things that I had to put on the back burner in 2013.  I'm excited about trying some new things and go on a real vacation...a vacation that doesn't involve surgery and anesthesia.  I'm excited about the potential of the year.  

Potential.

I really identify with potential.  I love seeing people make something from just an idea, whether it's a product or a business.  I love looking at a piece of flat fabric and thinking about what fabulous clothing item could be made from it.  I love when someone confides in me a desire to try something new and I'm able to help them achieve that goal.  Exciting, exciting.  

And sometimes, potential can cause a lot of anxiety and stress.

I've talked with two women in the last month that are starring into the face of their own potential and their extremely high risk of breast cancer.  Ugh.  These women are smart and savvy and a couple of badasses, in my opinion, but they are are now spending much of their time addressing their potential for breast cancer.  It's heavy stuff.  There isn't a magic pill that will just erase away the risk...well, there kind of is, but it requires removal of your breasts and ovaries.  This isn't a option for women that are in the family-making mode.  The doctors usually default to the most aggressive course of action because they don't want to see the potential develop into cancers that are hard to treat and life-threatening.  Only the patient is the one weighing all the aspects and consequences of the potential cancer.  They are being asked to make static decisions about dynamics variables...talk about anxiety.

I remember those years.  The struggle with my headspace about my risk and what I should do.  Doctors that advised that maybe I should reconsider having kids because maybe I could pass the risk along to them.  Doctors that advised that I should have prophylactic surgeries that would have prevented me from having children.  Suggestions, advice, opinions....strong opinions.  The juggling of all of this can be exhausting.

But, it's getting better.  We have more choices and advances are being made every year that should provide even more choices in the future and hopefully a clear path to prevention.  When I think about my fiver-year-old daughter and the potential she has in life, the potential to develop breast cancer is low on the list.  I see her potential as a leader, a student, a revolutionary, a strong, confident woman.

I'm not glad that I was diagnosed with cancer and went through a year of surgeries and recoveries, but I'm glad it's over and I can spend my time thinking about other types of potential.  

Be kind and empathetic to women you know that are going through these situations right now.  Just listen and invite them out for coffee and happy hour.  Support them in their decision and help them feel comfortable and get back to thinking about other things....their potential...their potential for the positive.

3%

3%

He thinks there is a 3% chance of reoccurence.  He, the oncologist.  I think I can live with 3%.  I probably have a greater chance of getting smacked by a bus while running across the road to get coffee one morning.  There's probably a greater chance of dying from stupidity now rather than cancer.

I think I'm ok with 3%.

There is a possibility to lower that even more if I wanted to engage in a drug regime.  Right now, I think I'm ok with the 3%.  My husband reminded me that this is not a static decision and that we can reevaluate later, if we want.  The side effects and risks of the drug regime may not be worth the extra percentage point reduction.

I'm still processing this scenario.  For the last year, we have been focused on the "plan".  Now, aside from getting some areolas tattoed, the plan is complete.

Now what?

Does there need to be anything else?  

While adhering to the plan, I felt like I was doing something.  I was taking an active role is combating cancer and not letting it kill me.  Now I need to be comfortable with a less active strategy.  Yes, I need to eat healthier, exercise more, increase my calcium intake (but that is due to going through menopause twenty years earlier than normal) and other general health initiatives, but am I ok with not having an active fight on my hands.  I know that seems crazy, but I'm trying to challenge myself to not worry about that 3%.

And with that challenge, do I remove myself from this cancer-centric community I've created.  Can I even do that?

What do I write about now, if not cancer?  Do I write about my experience with other women that are going through this?  Do I keep updating people on my fake boobs (um, no).  There are still plenty of issues that I am going to struggle with that pertain to breast cancer.  I have baggage.  I have twenty years of baggage.  Keeping myself in a positive head space may be a real challenge for me.  How do I keep myself from extrapolating my mother's experience to my own?  How do I not become consumed with fear that this disease will affect my young daughter's life before we are prepared for it?

It'll be interesting to see what I want to keep writing about.  Maybe it will be canning or Junior League or guns..... stay tuned.