One Year Cancer Free!

On December 1, 2009, my oncologist declared me cancer free. I’m not sure if that’s the true medical term as many cancer books I have read call it “NED” or “No Evidence of Disease.” Personally, cancer free sounds much better to me.

Of all the research I have done on cancer, the first two years are the most critical in to beating the disease as it is the time when the cancer is most likely statistically to present itself again. Once you pass the two-year mark, the five-year mark is the next big milestone. At that point, if cancer returns it is usually a new cancer and not a recurrence of the original cancer.

An ad for the American Cancer Society says we should celebrate birthdays (plus the ad I keep seeing has Keith Urban singing it and I will do whatever he tells me to - grin. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DlRCkyU2lh4 ). I guess now I have two birthdays to celebrate each year – my real birthday and my cancer free birthday!

I’ve never been one to want to be the center of attention, even on my birthday, so having two days to celebrate a year seemed a bit much to me, so I wasn’t sure how I wanted to note this occasion. The thought even crossed my mind not to even mention it as I thought I might be jinxing myself (I still think that as I type this). However, I decided it should be celebrated as many lose their life to this horrid disease. Every day on earth is a gift and each year I move beyond this is a blessing. I’m not going to have a big party, but I am going to have a nice dinner out with a couple of girlfriends and toast the occasion a time or two!

As far as an update on me, I’m still going through the reconstruction process and physical therapy to get range of motion for my back and left arm. I saw my oncologist for a check up two weeks ago and he said everything looks great blood work wise (all the rest is up to me to tell him if I’ve noticed any changes in my body.) I asked him about my specific cancer (triple-negative) because all the information I have read have said it is the hardest to survive. He said that was so because that cancer has no targeted therapies. I asked if my genetic marker explained the triple-negative type and he said “no” but he did say that all the studies he has read show that patients who have the genetic marker and the triple-negative cancer have a higher survival rate than those who do not have the genetic marker, so that made me very happy! As far as my journey goes, I will get expanded two more times (Dec. 3 and 17), insert the left side implant in a surgery in early February and two have more reconstructive procedures in the spring. I should be done by May/June – almost two years from start to finish.

I’m a little sad as I was asked to attend the year-end NASCAR banquet in Las Vegas this weekend, but I opted not to go so I could stay on schedule with my reconstruction process. It would have been a lot of fun, but I really want to finish this process so I can get on with my life and start feeling better again.

I still have a lot of pain in my left arm, back and chest area, but I'm doing physical therapy each week and doing my PT exercises daily. I'm back on the treadmill daily and doing weekly yoga. It is helping my stamina and I'm proud of myself as I even did a half run / half walk on the treadmill this morning. I will continue to push myself as I want to get stronger and keep moving forward.

The picture is of me about a month ago out to dinner celebrating a friend's birthday. The hair keeps growing!

Thank you again for keeping up with me. I am truly blessed to have so many great people in my life. Please keep praying that I continue to be one of the lucky ones and keep this cancer from recurring.

Finally, in case you didn’t know, December 1st is “Pay it Forward” day on Facebook. Do something nice for someone else and expect nothing in return. Let’s see how many people we can make smile today!

With love,
Marcy

Pain came again, some other day!

It seems every time I speak with my plastic surgeon, my reconstruction timeline changes. When we discussed the timeline he felt we would be able to do both surgeries in 2010. I’d recover for one month from the first surgery, expand for one month and then have the second surgery. So I figured that would be mid-Sept. to mid-Oct. for recovery and mid-Oct. to mid-Nov. for expansion, with the surgery in either late November or early December.

Here is what expansion is… On my right side, I am complete with my implant. It’s actually weird, as since the whole breast is all implant, it feels cooler than the rest of my body as all am I feeling is the fluid. Quite weird, but I digress… sorry. Anyway, on the left side, the doctor could not go straight to the implant. He had to put what is called an expander in. It stretches the skin and new muscle he placed on that side of the chest. It has a small valve in the expander (which is found by a magnet) and the doctor gradually inserts fluid into the expander to stretch you to make room for the implant. It is hard, not soft like the implant is, and uncomfortable.

Well, you would think by now that I would know that I can’t plan a damn thing on this journey. I went in to get expanded on Friday. Knowing that I wanted to have the second surgery ASAP, the doctor got aggressive with the amount of fluid. He put in 100cc’s of fluid and my body did not react well. Unlike my right side that handled the expansion process well, the left side has all this new muscle and lots of internal stitching that was NOT happy to have constant pressure placed on it. I went backwards in my healing and it has been beyond painful.

I can’t sneeze, yawn, cough or take a deep inhale without the stitches below the breast area pinching and causing extreme pain. Thankfully, I have not gotten sick and my allergy medicine is keeping me from sneezing. I’m also still having a hard time sleeping well at night as I’m no longer on narcotics that allow you to sleep anywhere, anytime. It is hard to find a position that is comfortable and once I get in position, I can’t move or it will hurt. It still hurts getting in and out of bed and in and out of seated positions. Everyone told me how painful this surgery would be, but I never dreamed it would be worse than the mastectomy.

So now we have chosen to slow down the expansion process. We will expand every other Friday in November and December, putting in no more than 50cc’s at one time. This way I will have the weekend to recuperate should I feel bad. We will let the skin rest for January and then do the final surgery in February 2011. About three months later, he can do the final procedures (no surgery) to complete the reconstruction process. I can’t believe this whole process will end up taking almost two years of my life away. That’s why I get SOOO frustrated because I just want all of this to be over and to FEEL good again. I’m so incredibly tired of being in pain.

I’m headed back to work on Monday, November 1st, so I pray that I will get a little more relief by then.

Finally, the picture posted is from Thursday (before I got expanded, as you will notice I’m smiling) when I got my hair cut again. It is finally getting to a point where it looks like an actual hairstyle, so that makes me happy.

With love,
Marcy

Pain, Pain, Go Away!

On September 16, I had my last BIG surgery which was actually the first in my breast reconstruction process. I knew going into it the surgery that it would be extremely painful. The surgery is called a Latissimus Dorsi. It cuts a portion of your latissimus dorsi back muscle, tunnels it under your arm and places it on your chest leaving the blood vessel attached. This muscle supports the implant. They also cut some skin from the back and placed it on the front on the lower side of the breast. I only had to have this done on the left side because that was the side that had radiation. On my right side, I was able to go to implant directly which didn’t hurt at all in comparison. I will go through the expansion process for the next month and then before the end of 2010, I will have another small surgery to trade the left expander for an implant. In 2011, I will have to have two small outpatient procedures and barring any complications, I should complete the reconstruction process.

The hardest part of this surgery other than the lack of motion, only being able to sleep on my back (no sides or stomach), unable to bend at the waist, has been the pain. I’ve been on narcotics for over four weeks now and it does not look like I’m coming off them anytime soon. For the past week, I’ve tried to wean myself off them (because I thought it was time) and I was crying every day. My doctor says that I’m just sensitive to pain (as I was the same way after the mastectomy) and to stay on the pills until the pain goes away. I’ve been cleared to start physical therapy on Tuesday, so I’m hoping that will help. I’ve also been having a hard time sleeping through the night due to the pain and that’s something I just have to deal with right now.

Mentally, I’ve been struggling because I’m unsure how I will ever look somewhat normal as the skin from the back is white and the skin that has been radiated is darker, so my breast will be two-toned for years and maybe forever. It is so disappointing to work so hard to be left with an outcome that isn’t great. I knew it would never be perfect and it wouldn’t be “normal,” but you want it to at least look okay and not what I consider strange.

It’s hard. I used to be a very confident person. Regardless of my weight, I always felt good about myself. I was me. I wasn’t perfect, but I was whole. It was my body. Now, I’ve got this new body, new hair and I’m just not confident anymore.

I don’t want to come across as complaining because at the end of the day I’m alive, but it is a HUGE adjustment as this body is not what I’m used to. It doesn’t have the strength I used to have, stamina or range of motion. I will be able to get some of it back through hard work and physical therapy, but it will be a long road and some will never come back. I’ve lost sensation in many areas of my left arm and chest area, and they can’t tell me if it will be permanent loss or not. It feels funny to scratch an area on your body and you can’t feel it.

Couple that with all the physical changes and all the side effects of the hysterectomy and it is a huge adjustment learning to live with this new person. It is a lot of changes in a short time. Plus, time won’t heal all wounds. Some you have to learn to live with.

I think my doctor will release me at the six week mark to go back to work, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed as I’ve been really bored during this recovery. I’m looking forward to getting back to my daily routines. I'm also thankful for all my friends and family who looked after me during this recovery - chores, meals, company and all the cards, flowers and gifts everyone gave -- I'm so blessed to have so many great people in my life.

Since October is breast cancer awareness month, I just want to thank everyone who has donated to this cause. Cancer Wellness at Piedmont receives grants from many organizations and I would be lost without this place. In addition to the free counseling I receive and Monday night yoga classes, it is a community of cancer survivors where we are taught wellness programs to enhance our healing and the new life after cancer. I have met so many amazing people and I’m thankful to have this wonderful place that provides me so much support.

The photo posted is from the two day walk for breast cancer in Atlanta. Due to my surgery, I could not walk this year, so my friend Jill drove me there so I could see the ending ceremony. My friend Kaedy (morning show host for 97.1 The River and breast cancer survivor) spoke and recognized me on stage, as we are both avid supporters of Cancer Wellness. I love my silly hat Jill gave me! (Jill is on the left and Kaedy is on the right).

Thanks again for everyone’s continued support and concern. For my NASCAR friends, I probably won’t see any of you until January at the media tour/PR summit, so best of luck with the end of the season. For my Atlanta friends, I’m not sure when this second surgery will be and coupled with the upcoming holidays, I’m not sure how much I will get out, but I hope to see many of you soon!

With much love,
Marcy

Lifting Lauren

Today I want to tell you about a nine-year-old little girl, Lauren Dickens, who was diagnosed with leukemia a few months after I was diagnosed with cancer last year. Lauren is the niece of one of our family friends.

I’ve never met Lauren. However, I was in the midst of chemo when I heard of her diagnosis and immediately was upset. I couldn’t understand how God could to this to a child. Dealing with cancer is hard enough as an adult – how can a child process it? No one should ever have to go through this horrid disease, let alone a child.

I immediately signed up for her Facebook page "Lifting Lauren" to keep up with her journey: http://www.facebook.com/search/?post_form_id=fb0ee75296226214ef649a0c71be934a&q=&init=quick&sid=0.2917973057925001#!/group.php?gid=167855526675&ref=ts

I sent her a couple of cards and a care package – Burt’s Bees stuff they could easily transport to and from the hospital to safely take care of her skin and a teddy bear she could love on.

The poor child went through the wringer – in the hospital on end – treatments, bone marrow transplant, etc. It has been since September, 10 months of treatment and I thought Lauren was coming close to the other side and all indications had shown what a brave little fighter she was. She had faith that the Lord would carry her safely through this journey.

Sadly, on Friday, July 16, Lauren lost her battle and is now with the Lord in Heaven. When I found out, I lost it. I have never cried so hard for someone that I’ve never met, but I felt a connection with Lauren, praying she was going to make it like me. It’s even harder because you compound this loss with survivor’s guilt: how is it that I get to beat this disease and this precious little child had to suffer so much and was taken away from her family? I’m still crying as I type this. I just can’t understand. And I’m heartbroken.

I’m asking a favor of you today: Please say a prayer today for Lauren’s family as her funeral is today and ask God to please care for Lauren in Heaven. To the Dickens family, my thoughts and prayers are with you today and always, and words cannot describe the loss I feel for you and that is in my heart.

The Year From Hell

I can’t believe one year ago today, I was told I had cancer. A friend recently said to me that the days go by slow, but the years go by fast. Well, I can assure you, this year did not. I stand here today a different person than I was a year ago. I’m still me, but at the same time, so many things have changed. Every person as they age changes along the way. You learn from your experiences and that shapes you to who you are. However, being dealt such a large blow at one time causes changes in who you are much quicker than the normal cycle of life and processing all those changes is tough. It’s all about adjusting and it isn’t easy to do.

There are days I can’t believe I utter these words, but having cancer has made me a better person. That doesn’t mean that I don’t wake up every day mad as hell that I’ve lost my ability to have children. That’s been the biggest sacrifice of this whole journey. You can take away body parts all day long, but not being able to bear my own children I will never get over – I just have to learn how to deal with it for the rest of my life. However, I’m a more patient person. I’m more understanding. I’m more compassionate. I’m more charitable. I’ve given up control. I truly understand there are no guarantees in life. And NEVER underestimate the will to survive. I can do anything I put my mind to. I can overcome any fear. I live every day thankful for that day on earth.

That doesn’t mean I’m all “Kum By Ya” every day and that things don’t get to me, however, and I know it sounds trivial, but I don’t sweat the small stuff anymore. The things that used to get me all riled up don’t even scratch the surface anymore. I think I’m a better employee now because of that lesson.

I’m still adjusting to my new looks, but even if I’m not happy with my reflection in the mirror, it doesn’t define who I am. And with time and much patience, I can get to a place I’m content with in the future. I guess that still means I have hope which I’m glad I haven’t lost, but many of the things I used to hope for aren’t options anymore, so I’ve had to readjust. I trying to figure out what my new dreams in life are and I have no idea at this point in my life, but that’s something I’m constantly thinking about -- according to my counselor, that’s a good thing.

I’m so incredibly thankful to all of you who have followed my journey this past year. I’ve been told so many stories of people whose lives have been touched by my blog and what I’ve shared with you along the way. To the women who have told me they do their self breast exam every month now when they used to not. To those who have told me their perspectives on life has been changed. Thank you to each and every one of you who have told me these great stories as it makes me feel this journey was for a reason. It means more than you know because so many days I wonder, “Why me?” and those comments bring me much comfort to know that I have touched your life in a positive way.

Fittingly, I spent this past Saturday at the Cancer Survivor’s celebration at Piedmont Hospital. I felt touched to be invited because not all the cancer patients get to go. I’ve made friends with some wonderful women through Cancer Wellness and we all got to get together and thank our wonderful surgeon, Dr. Heather Richardson. She cried and told us how much we all bring to her life; that we lay our life in her hands and we put our trust in her. Seeing her so moved, it just makes me truly understand how hard it is when she loses a patient. The picture above is her – she’s the tall one in the photo and I’m so blessed to have been taken care of by her.

I also took my first trip last week – I tacked on two days to a work trip in California and my mom and I traveled down the PCH 1 from San Fran to Big Sur and it was so amazing to get out, see part of the world I’ve never been to before, hike in the state parks while feeling stronger with my body. It was so great to be with my mom and not have her have to take care of me. It was a great way to celebrate the one year mark!

While I’m reflecting on today as my “one year ago I was diagnosed,” my true day to celebrate going forward is the day of being told I was cancer free, which was Dec. 1, 2009. This is the date that really matters for awhile now and I’ll celebrate every year until I get to that five year mark – December 1, 2014.

However, I am going to celebrate tonight of putting this year of hell behind me with my best friend Michelle. We are going out tonight to the Sting concert at Chastain and I know we’ll have a great time.

All I will leave you with one last thought and I know you’ve heard it before, but please let it sink in: If you don’t have your health, not a damn thing matters in this world. Sit with that thought that each time you think you have a problem, because if you do, you’ll soon realize your problem probably wasn’t as large or as important as you thought it was. Enjoy every day on this earth as it truly is a gift!

Here’s a great quote I just read recently that I thought was fitting for today: “The worst thing that happens to you can be the best thing for you, if you don’t let it get the best of you.” – Will Rogers.

With much love,

Marcy

Hot flashes, botox and more complications!

It’s been almost seven weeks since my last update and I’m not sure why I haven’t updated, but as I’ve been getting my thoughts together to write this blog, I realize now that I shouldn’t have waited so long as a lot of things have happened.

To start, the doctor was incorrect when he said to me “if you go one month without any menopausal symptoms, you can expect to get off scot-free.” They did come in after a month’s time had passed. I’m having hot flashes quite a bit now. There’s no rhyme or reason when they come. They vary in intensity. Some are just a temperature change for a few minutes and some are so furious that they cause me to be nauseas to the point I even threw up with one two days ago. Not fun. Cold drinks like Icees are my new favorite thing.

I’ve also been dealing with a lot of weepiness. I’m not sure how much of this is emotions that come from menopause or just this time period on this side of cancer. I’ve been seeing my counselor, working through all my troubles and she said that she’d be worried about me if I acted like everything was okay. The most troubling part is I know why I’m sad, I understand it, I can verbalize it, but even with all this awareness, I can’t make it go away. I’m so tired of being sad so often but getting over your dreams being crushed isn’t something that happens overnight. A woman who is a 13-year survivor said, “Anyone that says you should be over this by now has never been through it.”

I encountered some other non-menopausal complications which include swelling in my right arm (the one that had no lymph nodes removed). Through lots of visits to many of my doctors, we have narrowed it down to a vascular deficiency due to the blood clot last year on that side of my body. Now that I’ve started exercising more, it seems the blood flow to my arm isn’t working correctly. I’m going to see a vascular surgeon this week for my first visit and there are many options from non-invasive to surgical we can look at.

I’ve also noticed that my left arm does not sweat anymore and the right side has picked up its slack. It’s embarrassing to sweat so much it can soak through my clothes and deodorant won’t contain it. My breast surgeon said this can happen from surgery and recommended Botox to fix it. Seriously, Botox? I never thought I would hear those words during a breast cancer diagnosis! Anyway, insurance won’t cover it and it is expensive, so we’ve filed an appeal with the insurance. Certainly if I’m asking for one underarm area and not two, they will understand this isn’t just a cosmetic need. I’m a bit disappointed as I thought their job was to get me back to as close as my old body as possible.

One really cool thing my insurance did cover was mastectomy bras and prosthesis fitting. I decided to wait to get my reconstruction done as the doctors want you wait at least six months following radiation, so since it was going to be a long wait (surgery is scheduled for Sept. 16), I called my insurance and they told me that Nordstrom was a national provider. Let me tell you, it was such a great experience! They took normal full-coverage bras and tailored them with pockets for the prosthetic. I have beautiful bras now when I’m not feeling my best and they aren’t ugly Grandma bras – and it makes me feel a little better getting dressed each morning. I even bought a mastectomy swim suit from Land’s End and got a swim prosthetic so I can enjoy summer at the pool and not feel too self-conscious.

Probably one of the hardest things for me right now is the reflection in the mirror. I don’t like the way I look right now and even though I know it is temporary, it is still difficult. I don’t feel feminine at all or pretty. What breaks my heart is when I run into someone that has some form of physical disfigurement, I wonder how they deal with it every day? Eventually, I will be able to get back to that confident self and others don’t have that option and it breaks my heart and I feel bad for feeling sorry for myself in the first place, but it still doesn’t make my self-consciousness go away.

In the photo above is a picture of me and my best friend since the 8th grade’s new baby. She and her husband allowed me the honor to be there for the birth since I would never give birth on my own and it was such a gift. I can’t put into words the experience, but I was so blessed to be there as he entered this world. She even let me give him his first bottle. I am so thankful to have her three-year-old Skye and now this new baby in my life that provide so much love. I’m not their blood Aunt, but I am for certain their Aunt Marcy!

It’s been interesting helping out with the new baby. It’s allowed me a lot of time with this newborn to think about my thoughts about my future life with or without kids. I don’t mean any disrespect to parents of adopted kids, but I have this fear that I wouldn’t be able to love a child as much if it wasn’t a piece of me. I would have to think that’s a fear every adoptive parent would have. I believe being a parent is the toughest jobs anyone could ever do and I worry that it would be even harder if the child wasn’t biological. Hopefully time will help me sort through these fears and help me understand what the future holds for me.

And not too far off in the future (June 21-23), I’m taking my first real vacation since I got sick and it will happen almost one week prior to my one year anniversary of being diagnosed with cancer. My mom and I are going to California to take in the sights of Monterey and Big Sur. I cannot wait and I’m really looking forward to this trip and some time with my mom. After this past year, she certainly deserves a break too!

On a final note, I just want to say I’ve been blown away by all the feedback I’ve gotten from this blog. I’ve heard directly and indirectly how my journey has impacted your life. I never meant this when I started this blog – it was just a way to get news out to those who cared to want to keep up with me. Never in a million years did I think that it would resonate with others. I’ve heard such kind words and stories about how people’s perspectives have changed and I’m just so incredibly touched. Maybe there is a reason for this journey after all.

With much love,
Marcy

Coming Out the Other Side

I know it’s been a month since my last update, but I don’t have a lot of “news” to update you on.

I was cleared by my doctor to go back to work on April 12, so I’ve completed the first week back. It was weird to be there after being off for so long, but by the third day it was feeling routine again.

I’ve been very lucky in regards to the side effects from the hysterectomy. In fact, I haven’t had any. My counselor suggested that since chemo put me into forced menopause where I had the hot flashes, maybe since my body had already gone through that and my ovaries hadn’t been functioning in eight months, it wasn’t a shock to my body. I asked my surgeon and he said that was an oversimplified explanation, but also didn’t say that wasn’t true. Either way, goody for me as this surgery was the easiest of all my procedures. I did what the doctor ordered (i.e. stay on my butt and don’t lift anything) and it all turned out well.

Right now, I’m focusing on getting some of my strength and energy back. I’m able to exercise again, but not as hard as I used to be able to do, as I’m easing my way back into things. I’m doing my arm exercises to get my range of motion back and walking to increase my stamina. I still can’t extend my left arm as long as my right, but I’ll get there one day.

I’ve also been able to return to taking care of myself. I vacuumed for the first time since June 2009 last weekend. I’ve cleaned my closets out for the first time since December 2008. I bought (and my mom planted) new shrubs out front that I let die because I never watered them the past year, but I’m getting back to taking care of me and my home, which I have not been able to do in so very, very long and boy does it feel GOOD!!! I can’t say that I missed vacuuming, but it felt amazing to be able to do it by myself.

These past eight months wouldn’t have been possible without all the support from friends and family, but most importantly, my mother. She was the one who cleaned my house every three weeks and kept it running since I got sick last June. She’s been my rock and I wouldn’t have been able to get through this without her.

Right now, it feels extremely strange to feel somewhat normal, where I’m not in some sort of pain (other than in my left arm). I’m not hurting or extremely weak or on some sort of medicine. I’m thankful to be getting back to the old me, but I’m not the same person as I’ve changed in so many ways. My priorities have changed and I see the world through a new set of eyes. I’m more compassionate, I don’t let things rattle me if they don’t go my way, I’m thankful for the small things and I’m not rushing through life anymore.

And here’s one thing that didn’t go my way. I went to see my plastic surgeon to discuss my reconstruction and I thought I’d have two small surgeries to get this done: one, to put my expander in on the left side and the second to have the expanders taken out and the implants put in. Not so! Since my left side has been radiated, my surgeon can’t use a skin graft with expander like he did in November. He said he has to use my own tissue. So, he will be using tissue and muscle from my back (since that part of the body has the most redundancy of muscle) and that will put me out of work another 4 weeks. I can’t control it, so why get upset about it? Yes it will hurt, but been there, done that, guess I’ll just do it again.

All I know is I want as much of my whole life back as I can and right now I don’t have that as I’m still disfigured while waiting for the reconstruction process. On a day in, day out basis, I don’t feel self-conscious. I don’t like wearing prosthesis, but at least I look normal in my clothes. And I look absolutely ridiculous in a bathing suit as I can’t wear my prosthesis, but that won’t keep me from going to the pool this summer. I don’t care what other people think. I don’t like my short, chemo curl hair, but hey, its hair and it’s growing, so I’m okay with that. But where it does impact me is in my love life. I couldn’t go a date right now if I wanted to. How do you make a good first impression when not only are you not looking your best, but you are disfigured? Even though I’m thankful to be getting healthy again, I’m still not back to “normal” and I want as much of my life back as I can and not being able to date feels like a roadblock to having a whole life. Maybe its God’s way of saying I’m not ready yet, who knows?

I met with my counselor yesterday and had a great meeting. We discussed how this part of the cancer process is probably the hardest as I’m done fighting the disease to keep me alive, but now what do you do with your life after you’ve done fighting? The best analogy I can give about coming out of this side of cancer is I’m walking on similar terrain, but in new shoes and I don’t quite have my footing yet. I’m figuring out what parts of me are resurfacing and coming back and what parts of me have changed. It feels weird when you try on old habits/activities/actions that just don’t work for you anymore and you are learning what you keep and what you throw away and start new with. It’s hard at this point of your life as I was pretty happy with who I used to be and a lot of that person is still there, but many things (priorities/beliefs/dreams) have changed.

I’ll keep you abreast (oh gosh, no pun intended – laughing as I type this) on the things I figure out along the way.

Thank you again for keeping up with me. The comments and emails mean so very, very much!

Love,
Marcy

P.S. - the picture is of me and my best friend's (since the 6th grade!) daughter at her 3-year-old birthday party in her pink ballerina dress!

Surgery, Crap TV and Boredom

So what have I learned in the past week following my hysterectomy surgery? According to my mother, I watch too much “crap” TV. Needless to say, I have become a TV junkie in the past week, as that has been all I’ve been able to do outside of reading, eating and sleeping.

If we revisit the time before my surgery, my plan of trying not to think about the surgery worked perfectly. The race was a perfect distraction, not allowing me to think about it at all. After the race was over, I was walking out to my car with a friend that Sunday night and she wished me good luck on the surgery. At that point, I started crying because I knew that I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

That Monday and Tuesday before the surgery was tough. I cried A LOT. I saw my counselor and cried the hardest I had in a long time. I realized that this loss of my fertility is something that I will never get over. It is something that I will have to deal with the rest of my life. Right now, I’m just mad. I’m angry that I will never get to see a piece of me in another person and it wasn’t because I couldn’t have kids, it is because this disease has robbed me of the opportunity. I’m also mad that if I had known I had this genetic marker, I would have made different life choices, but you can’t live your life in “what ifs?” Even though I know this, it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach. I wish I were further along in the mourning process, but I feel this will take longer to get through as I can’t beat this, as I could the cancer.

It is hard to explain – some days are easier than others and some days, things hit me the wrong way. When someone on Facebook celebrates their kids’ accomplishments or when someone bitches about their kids’ messes, etc., it hurts my heart a bit. I’m having a hard time watching anything on TV about kids, parenting, etc. as it stirs my emotions. However, I watched the movie, Baby Mama a few days ago and it didn’t bother me at all – it was so stupid that I was okay watching it. It is hard to explain to others and even myself what will upset me, as I don’t even know most days. I’ve just asked all my friends for their patience as I’m on an emotional rollercoaster right now.

I hope one day my heart will open to the thought of adoption, but right now I can’t even think about it. A good friend gave me solid advice – she said that what I’m going through right now is like breaking up with someone – at first, you can’t imagine going out with someone else because your heart is broken, but eventually, your heart heals and opens to something new. I hope this is the case.

Well onto the surgery – it was actually the easiest part of my cancer diagnosis. My nurses said I was a model patient. I’ve become a pro actually – I can tell each nurse where the best vein is to put in an IV and I don’t even flinch when they stick me. I instruct them which arm to use for blood pressure, even sticking my finger out for the heart rate monitor and my tongue for the thermometer without prompting. I asked if I could get up and walk before they even urged me to and never complained once about pain. I had minimal bleeding – they said I could bleed for up to three weeks and stopped after five days. I stopped taking pain pills three days early than the prescription ran out. And most importantly, the doctor said that within two days to one week, I’d know what menopausal symptoms I’d be dealing with. I was most fearful of this, as I’m not allowed to take any hormones to assist as most women do. Fortunately, I only had three small hot flashes this week, and one of my nurse friends reminded me that it is one of the side effects of coming off narcotics, so I may get lucky in this respect. If I can get through the one month mark with no symptoms, then likely, I’ll never have to deal with any. Please say a prayer this next month will go by without incident.

The hardest part of the surgery is the BOREDOM! I know it sounds like lying around doing nothing sounds fantastic, but after a few days, it is boring. I can’t take stairs, so I go up and down only once a day – down in the morning and up at night. I stayed with my parents for the first week so it was easier on them to take care of me. I had a buddy by my side all week – their Boxer, Brunswick, was absolutely HAPPY to stay on the couch with me all day. In fact, one morning my dad asked him if he wanted to take his daily trip to the “P-A-R-K” and go “Bye-Bye” and he didn’t move – he was happy on the couch with me and trust me, this dog LIVES to go to the park. Dad had to drag him off the couch. I felt loved. Normally, Brunswick sleeps on his doggie bed in my parents’ room each night. Mom took his doggie bed from the bonus room and put in my bedroom and he slept there each night by his own choice. Again, I felt special as he wanted to keep an eye on me.

I came home yesterday afternoon and it feels so good to be home and sleep in my own bed. The hardest part has been keeping my kitties off my lap. They missed me so, as I did them. For the next week, I’ve got friends and family staying with me each day and night, as I can’t lift anything. It is surprising how much you use your abdominal muscles when you lift the smallest thing. After two weeks following the surgery, I can drive again and lift small things. For the final two weeks, I can walk a little bit, but no exercising or lifting heavy things. I’m hopeful I can go back to work on April 12, but we will see what the doctor says.

Here’s the BEST part – having this surgery means I’ve eradicated all the large chances of the cancer coming back. I’ve taken my breasts so the breast cancer won’t grow new cells. I’ve taken all my reproductive organs to rid the chance I’d get ovarian cancer. Even though I can’t control cancer, I’ve done everything in my power to make sure it never comes back. It has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I’m bound and determined to kick cancer’s ass so it never wants to mess with me again. I can’t truly celebrate until I get to the five year mark as my original cancer could metastasize, but I’ve done all I can for now and need to trust the chemo and radiation did their jobs. As I type this, I’m cancer free and will live my life every day as I’ve beat it. I can’t live each day in fear that it will come back and that takes more strength than you know – I have days that the fear gets to me, but I’m convinced attitude is everything in beating this disease.

All I have left to do is the reconstruction process and I see my reconstructive surgeon on March 31, so hopefully, I will have some sort of timetable of how long that will take after that appointment. My biggest wish is to finish all the procedures in 2010, so I can go into 2011 and actually use my vacation days to go on a VACATION!

And because I’m forthcoming with everything else in my life, I’ll share with you what constitutes my “crap” TV: all nine episodes of Big Love on HBO, all four episodes of 24/7 with Jimmie Johnson also on HBO, Real Housewives of Orange County and Real Housewives of New York, America’s Next Top Model, Celebrity Apprentice, American Idol and a ridiculous amount of HGTV. My only intellectual TV was watching Jeopardy with my mother each night. Of all that I have shared, this last paragraph might be the most embarrassing!

Love to you all!

Marcy

Life Is Good!

Ok, so I’ve been a bad blogger by not updating lately. In fact a few friends emailed me afraid that something was wrong since I hadn’t updated lately, but in this case, “no news is good news.”

I returned to work on January 4th and have been doing daily radiation treatments each morning at 8:00 a.m. I’ve logged 29 treatments to date and only have four more to go, finishing on Feb. 17 – six and a half weeks of treatment. The first two weeks of radiation were a breeze. The next two weeks I started getting irritation on my skin and by the end of the month, the side effects had really set it – burned skin and fatigue. I’ve been able to work the whole time as after going through chemo and the mastectomy, I can take on anything. I used to be the girl petrified of needles and now, I’m incredibly strong. Bring it on, I’m not scared. I’ve been through hell and have been able to come out the other side with a smile on my face. I’m amazed at how strong I am now.

I’m also in a better place mentally. I was really depressed before Christmas, just feeling so battered and bruised, due to the pain of the surgery and multiple complications. Well, on the first day of radiation, I met a guy named Jeremy. He was going through radiation for brain cancer. He was bald with a big scar across his skull. Radiation wasn’t going well for him – he was nauseas and couldn’t eat – he had lost 35 pounds in 21 days. But what was the most heartbreaking was he had lost his vision and wasn’t sure he’d ever get it back due to the tumor. He couldn’t drive. He couldn’t work. And it BROKE my heart. Here I was, down in the dumps yet I could drive myself to radiation each day AND go to work afterwards. I was able to return to “normal” life. His was changed drastically and probably permanently. I felt guilty for even being down. My counselor calls it “survivor’s guilt.” Anytime I even feel down or want to complain about something, I think about Jeremy and I keep my mouth shut. I’m going to be okay and nothing else much matters after that. Life is good.

Speaking of my counselor, she said she’s proud of me – that I’ve been able to handle everything well and put things into perspective. To be honest, I feel like I’ve been given a gift. I would never want to go through this ride again, but the perspective I’ve gained has been simply life-changing. I think I’m a better person for it. I’m more aware of those that need help. I smile at others more and try to say a kind word. I don’t complain. I don’t get riled up about things and certainly don’t sweat the small stuff. I read a quote that Robin Roberts wrote and to paraphrase, she said, “Before cancer I was rushing through life. I would’ve worked late if I was behind, now I leave, go to bed early, get a good night’s sleep and come back at it tomorrow. Before cancer, I would’ve never done that.” She’s right. I don’t let the stresses of work get to me and realize it is not good for my health. That there are so many things that are out of my control and I do the best I can with the situations I’m dealt. That’s all I can do.

Speaking about not being able to control things, I’m unsure of when I’ll start the reconstruction process again. The docs continually change the timeline and it has ranged anywhere from six weeks to six months. Who knows? I’ve just resigned myself that the boobs will come when they come. Fortunately, they have nothing to do with my health, so there’s no rush, but mentally, it does have consequences. I want to do the right thing and not rush things, but I also feel like my life is on hold until I’m done with all my procedures. I want to get everything done so I can go back to “normal” life and stop being a sick person. I realize my body is just a shell and it doesn’t define who I am, but I also want to feel good about myself. It’s hard to stand tall and feel confident when you have boy hair and only one boob. I try just not to care and realize I’m just glad to be alive at the end of the day.

Next up procedure-wise is my hysterectomy on March 10 and I’ll be out of work four to six weeks. I think the hardest part of this surgery will be the mental aspect of it. I completely know I’m making the right decision for my health and I’ve done the research regarding my fertility: it’s doubtful my period will ever return AND even if it did and I tried to get pregnant, the estrogen levels would be so high making it too risky for me – couple that with the fact that I’m high risk for ovarian cancer, it became a very simple decision. However, I know I have not mourned the loss of my fertility and fully expect to have another downturn emotionally after the surgery when it is final.

An interesting note – I asked my gynecological oncologist/surgeon about the menopausal symptoms following the surgery. He said that if I have any symptoms – mood changes, hot flashes, etc., that I would get them in a few days to one week following the surgery. That quick! He said if I made it through the first month with no symptoms, then I’d probably be off scot-free. Please say a prayer that I won’t have bad symptoms as I can’t take normal menopausal medicines as they have hormones which I can’t have. The only drug they will allow me to be on is one specific anti-depressant and I really don’t want to have to be on drugs again.

On a positive note – I’ve seen my oncologist and breast surgeon recently for follow up appointments and it was cool to see them both with huge smiles on their faces. It was because I looked good again and not like death warmed over. It has got to be so gratifying knowing you saved someone’s life. I can’t even imagine that feeling. I feel so lucky to have the doctors I’ve had and think Piedmont Hospital is the best. I’ve been given such great care and with such compassion and kindness. Their cancer wellness program is amazing. In addition to seeing my counselor for free, I’ve also started taking a Monday night yoga class and it is all cancer survivors in the class. It feels good to be around women who don’t look at you funny when you raise both arms in the air and they aren’t even or you aren’t strong enough to even try the downward dog pose. On my first night, the teacher said to me, “Even if you spend the whole class asleep on your mat, we are glad you are here.” I’m so thankful for these programs because Piedmont believes you treat the whole person, not just the disease – and it has helped me tremendously.

I’m sorry I’ve been so bad about updating, but I’ve just been in the radiation, work and rest grind. It makes for a long day getting out the door so early, but the radiation technicians have been so nice and friendly, it makes going there somewhat enjoyable each morning. It will be weird not to have to go there every morning as I’ve grown accustomed to.

I’m not sure when I’ll update again. We are just a few weeks away from race weekend (March 5-7) and then just three days later is my surgery. I’ll be in the hospital overnight and then recovering at my parents for a week. It probably isn’t a good idea to go home right after as my kitties want to be on my lap all the time. I’ll try to update after the surgery so everyone knows all went well.

Thanks for keeping up with me!

Love,
Marcy