Witch Doctor Which Doctor

So I decided that I would like to try to eliminate the hot flash issue. I have been taking a very low very low dosage of a drug called effexor to help reduce them, but decided why not try the referral to "the witch doctor".

M friend K recommended her after having gone to see several professionals about her problems to which she pinpointed a sensitivity to gluten and allergy to dairy fairly quickly that others couldn't diagnose. So I decided that I had nothing to loose.

Apparently she only takes calls on Wednesday morning between 8-10am which is when I have a weekly meeting scheduled. So trying to book an appointment was challenging at best. I finally got an appointment and wrote down the directions. Now I am directionally challenged at best and given the fact it was dark at 5pm added some extra challenge to driving out to an area I had never been. I googled it a couple of times and got land marks from some people and felt good about where I was going. That is until I realized that the land marks I had could only be seen in daylight. You would think a lake would be visible...except when there are no street lights.

I finally find the street and there is only one house which I cannot find a number for so I walk up to the front of the house. Hmmm no porch light on, so I take a step closer and realize my foot is tangled on something..a dog lead....ok that could have been bad. I ring the door bell and wait. A woman answers the door..H? Yes.

She turned around and mumbled something and pointed to a room which she turned on a the light in and then mumbled something else that sounded like she was finishing dinner. So I assumed I was to wait in the lite room. I looked around to a variety of organized chaos and wondered what I had gotten myself into. After what was only a few minutes (but felt like an eternity) she came back to the room and said "ok" and turned and went down another hallway and into another room. I followed blindly. I enter a room which had a wall of pills, a massage table, two chairs and an electric stand alone fireplace. "Where should I sit?" She mumbled something so I just sat in the most comfortable chair of the two.

She was busy getting a pen and paper so I was able to get a good look at her. I place her about 55-60, about 4'9", with a bob and lots of layered clothing but looked normal. No gnarly nose or black hat in site. She asked me a variety of medical questions and was really only interested in current things as opposed to long ago issues.

She asked me to stand with my right foot and left arm out. She then gently pushed on the end of my hand.. Then she asked me to put out the opposite hand and foot; which she pushed on as well. She then looked at me and said (clearly) "Do you run into a lot of things?" ahhh ...yes. "You are out of balance"...ok? Apparently when I walk my left arm and leg want to go together as opposed to my left leg and right arm...funny I have never noticed this. So my body is trying to spin in a circle. Hmm makes sense and I have lots of bruises to show for my running into things..I just took it as me being me. (I did randomly fall down once while just standing stillish while others climbed down a hill)

She asked me to lay on her table and put her hand under my head. I closed my eyes while she gently moved her fingers around. I felt like my brain cells were swirling. She then went to my feet and pushed them down. Asked me to stand up and repeat the same procedure as before. "There" she said quite satisfied. "That's fixed"..??? all I felt was dizzy.

I laid back down on the table and she asked my to put my arms straight up with my palms facing out and my hands touching. As she put bottles of pills on my stomach I was to try to keep my hands together. Easy right? Not so much. Some pills she couldn't pull my hands apart and others, no matter how hard I tried she did it easily. By the end there was a whole trove of boxes and bottles on my stomach.

I sat up and she asked if I used canola oil? Odd question but yes I used it last night to make popcorn but use olive oil on a regular basis. She wanted me to switch to coconut oil, eat kale and take the variety of vitamins laying before me. Basically they are fish oil, magnesium, an estrogen boosting supplement and rhodilia. Ok I could do this. I paid and then got up. She made no movement from her chair. I am thinking we are done but she makes no movement.

Instead she starts patting a dog and telling me about her kenneling services. I put on my jacket and asked "What now"? Take the vitamins for a month then come back and see me. I am not to stop taking my current drug or vitamins. I then start to leave and she doesn't follow. I come across a closed dog gate which was not there before. I attempt to open it but I am not sure how it works. So I go back and ask her. She tells me about a hidden lever but stays patting the dog and makes no attempt to come help me or see me to the door. I do manage to get out and back to my car. Ok I just paid a lot of money for a whole lot of weird!

Follow up: The vitamins have reduced my hot flashes to 1-2 a day from 3-5. I have noticed my right arm swings when I move my left leg and vice versa. I am not sure if this is new or now I notice it. My husband says it is new.

I have gone back to see H one more time and have another appointment scheduled for January as she has begun working on other issues I have..chronic nasal drip. The second time was not as odd as the first time, except she answered the door in her jammies and held the boxes up to my face as opposed to my stomach but lets see how this progresses before I pass judgment as for now things seem to be working so I guess her potions are worth it!

Downward Dog

I have done yoga off and on over the years. Actually more off than on, but after 3 years off I decided I would try it once again. So I coaxed my friend R into going with me to a class which my friend (K)teaches. This way I have comfort all around.

I don't think R has ever been to a yoga class so I picked a class where you go in for the stretch and then hold. Your body eventually releases to the pain and relaxes. R and I have a habit of going places and breaking out in giggles to the point where we are worried about getting asked to leave..but it has never made it to this point(none that I remember anyways). I figured with K teaching the odds were in our favour.

We enter the room and everyone is getting out cushions and pads..ok I don't remember this from the description, but like good little lemmings we do the same. We roll out our mats in the opposite direction as we are at the front of the class and I need to see. The room is darkish with candles lite all around. Ahhh nap time!

We begin with a couple of moves and I learn quickly that the parking lot light and I are not in agreement. Its cascading brightness into my zen-like ways was making me want to get a large rock and bust it. ommmmm

I think I am doing pretty well and I am getting back into the rhythm of things when we have to go into a frog pose. Ok I am human...and apparently I am not meant to be a frog. After a couple goes I figure it out but feel like an idiot with my feet turned out and my butt up in the air..now this is sexy, but I am thankful no one is behind me as spandex only holds in so much...ommm. I place a bolster under me so I am able to hold the frame for 5 minutes and relax into the pose...damn f'ing light! ommmm

After five minutes we are told to slowly come back to sitting and as I begin I can hear the beginnings of the suction from my boob releasing. Normally when this happens it is a slight noise but in a silent room it came our as a flatulent excretion sound...yes it sounded like I let one rip. To my horror, I look to my left where R is trying to control her laughter, but once we make eye contact all control is lost. I am trying to point to my boob to explain but her shaking shoulders tell me that she is gone. We can no longer look at each other for fear of giggles erupting more.

We finish the class by relaxing on out back and I have now started thinking about the many ways to smash the light...ommmm...but then I realize I am lost on the purpose of the class...ahhh to hell with that..my concentration was lost at the boob fart. Damn FROG!

Nip and Tuck

So I am on the track of semi-stalking my plastic surgeon to be. Lucky him. I found out about an information session on what is known as BRA day or Breast Reconstruction Awareness where my plastic surgeon along with two others would be speaking. People from all over called and emailed me to tell me about the seminar to the point where I almost updated my facebook status to "I KNOW", but then those people would have to be on facebook.

B was working that night, so off I went in the blustering cold to find the seminar room in the hospital. I am sad at best with directions so I called B to ensure I was on the right path and after confirming with him, asking information and walking the 100 steps to the room I found my way(and a washroom along the way). I got my sense of direction from my dad:)

I filled out a ballot after seeing others ahead do the same (lemming alert!) and found a seat not too close to the front but not too far back either. It was the Goldilocks of seats. I looked around and noticed that no one else was there alone. I had other people who would have come with me but I thought "This is information only, I don't have to make my decision today". There were woman and partners, woman and friends and woman who I think were on a "Girls night out"...some people need to get out more. As well as woman old, young and some in obvious stages of cancer.

The session began with a woman who had gone through surgery 7 years ago...who now looked about 12...and she introduced the Doctors and explained some housekeeping rules, she mentioned the ballots and the food.  FOOD??? How did I miss that part. Oh well, my grumbling tummy would have to wait, and there would only be two doctors speaking today as one was unable to attend. <Please don't let it be mine.> If I am planning to stalk someone I should at least know what they look like. Small technicality.

The session was quite informative and I learnt that each surgeon has different ways they operate both in the operating room as well as with their administrative staff. My guy was there ...phew..and he doesn't call you until it is getting time to work out a plan and operate. There are also 4 types of surgeries...these are by no means the proper descriptions but it is my take on them.

1. Pump it up- They stick an inflatable implant in and every month inflate your skin by filling the implant with saline each month until you reach the desired size.
Timeline: 3 months to inflate, 1 simple surgery for breast implant and 1 for nipple

2. Fun Bags- Implant surgery..as seen all over Hollywood. Saline and a new silicone option available
Timeline: 1-2hours of surgery for breast(s) 2nd surgery for nipple

3. TRAM flap (ouch 1)- If you have had radiation this is option 1. They take a section of your back, fling it still attached and slap it on your front.(Gives you the basic idea). Do some microsurgery, hope it takes and bam..new boob. Apparently looks life like and an implant and fat injections are likely needed unless you are an A
Timeline: 3-4 hours for surgery 1 and 1 hour for surgery 2 (nipple)

4. DIEP Flap- This is a tummy tuck and boob job in one. Lots of microsurgery involved in joining blood vessels. It is the most risky as it doesn't always take and it usually takes 10-12 hours!!!!! and then they still have to do the nipple. This is option number 2 for apres radiation...and probably the one I will venture in to, but we will see.

I felt well informed after the session and realized my wait was probably still 1.5 years away due to limited operating room time lines as reconstruction after cancer for breast health is not considered a priority. I would like to oppose this view and believe we all need to start writing letters to the appropriate people to get this changed. I guess my stalking will have to change direction...I am so fickle.

At the end they drew for prizes...remember the ballot? And go figure, I won a compression bra..well that will come in handy 1.5 years from now.

And where does the nipple come from? The cut the skin into a Olympic podium looking pattern and then pull it together and voila...one nipple!

Dressing Up

So in the past three weeks I have attended three events. The first one was business dress, so I was all good. The second one was a wedding where I scoured stores for a dress that was under $200 and  worked with all of my requirements <sleeve, no v neck..and fits> but instead ended up borrowing a dress. The third event was dressy and I had limited warning to attend so ..no time to shop. I had to figure out something from my closet...while driving home!

I decided on a dress that I thought could work with a tank top and a sweater I would be fine. I called up the friend I have with the most clothing and luckily she thought she had a sweater which would would work. Check 1.

I rushed home, having 40 minutes to get ready. I located the dress and a tank top. I decided that instead of worrying about my boob and possible shifting I would glue it on. Apply glue and wait..while waiting I find a pair of pantyhose which I am hoping doesn't have a run in them.

Put on boob, hmm bra or no bra. No bra

Put on tank top and then dress. The dress has a band around the middle which has caused me some issues in zipping it up before...and did again today..grr. Look in the mirror..oh oh I need a bra as I have one boob up and one boob down. Locate strapless bra. Attempt to shove it down through dress and tank top and do it up. Half way through the attempt I realize the bra is too small.

Take out bra, take off dress and tank top. Locate slip with built in bra..check time..urgh I have already used up 30 minutes. Husband calls and is on the way home...hurray up I need help dressing. Silence. I think he is debating missing this experience.

Put on slip. Put on tank top. Partially zip up dress to problem area. Shove dress on. Squeeze in fake boob and roll the dress over the real one. Attempt the zip up. By this time I have discovered I missed my calling as a contortionist.

Finally get the zipper up. Friend arrives. Damn. 40 minutes and I have a dress on. Put on pantyhose and realize these must have been invented by men. Thrown on some make up and then OMG my hair. Tame Afro and find purse and try to match shoes. Husband arrives home. Out the door. <1.2hrs later.> I have straps going every which way and reallllly hope the sweater I am about to borrow covers it all up. Sigh...it does. We arrive to the event. GET ME A DRINK!

Half way through the night my feet are hurting, should have wore the other ones and my boob feels like it is trying to come off my body. When I finally get home and fling my shoes off across the room I realize that the slip has under wire, which has popped out and is trying to lift the glue and my boob apart. OUCH!

I like dressing up and going out but I am not sure that after 3 events, all having the same chicken if I wouldn't be better off at home eating nachos, drinking beer and lounging in sweats. To be determined....

What's in a Doctor

Let's face it, I have seen a lot of Doctors, Nurses and Technicians over the past year and it is amazing how different they all are. From bedside care through to pain management.

Until I went to University I had the same family doctor, which my parents still have. He went above and beyond and you never felt rushed in his office, which might also explain the long waits in the waiting rooms. I have actually been through several doctors since then as they have either gone on to specialize in something else or just plain moved to a different city.

I have been lucky for the most part ..until now...  I have Dr. B. The one who couldn't tell me I had cancer. While people are curious as to why I don't dump him, I stay because he is out of a medical clinic and being a patient of the medical clinic allows you direct links to their specialists. While I prefer not to pit Dr against Dr, I will give you two scenarios and you can decide.

Scenario 1
I had been dreading going to see my family doctor, Dr. B as I hadn't seen him since the day he "kind of" told me I had cancer.  I have two cysts on my foot which have been there since before this whole story began, but they are now bothering my walking so it is time to go see about them.

I call and make the appointment and the lovely receptionist knows my name and books me right in. I show up 5 mins early and low and behold he is on time and I go right into a waiting room.  I look at the computer screen which says my name and : Last Date of visit July 22, 2011...D day in my books.

I quickly take a picture of this ...like I will ever forget it...then I wait...and wait....and wait. I do some texting and play on the Internet of my smart phone and continue to wait. I hear him in the room beside me and think..not much longer now. Then I hear the receptionist go into his office and say | Have you seen JJ yet..silence. Another 5 minutes go by and then he comes in, goes to the computer and brings up my chart. I take a look and the first line in bold letters is |BREAST CANCER MASS|

He turns to me and says, what can I do for you. I tell him about the cysts and he asks to see my foot, feels around and says...
Dr B: Who told you they were cysts
Me: No one, but they are round balls
Dr B: They might not be cysts, they might be a ganglion
Me: -I am thinking...are they not called ganglion cysts

He tells me that there is someone else here who he will refer me to..yeah...a referral. Get me out of here. He types in new notes asks if there is anything else and then his cell phone rings in his office and he is up and out. No...it`s been a year..how are you feeling...no bye...no nothing

Scenario Two
Off to have the results of my mammogram from my surgeon. Since I hadn`t been pushed up in appointments and I didn`t feel any different I assumed all was good. We go to the appointment and check in and are lead down to the room by a very funny East Indian lady and out into a waiting room..johnny shirt on, ties in the front.

I am changed for all of 5 minutes and the current resident of Dr. Ts comes in. Does and examination and asks
Resident: Do you have any pain
Me: just phantom ones
Resident: Do you have any nipple discharge
Me: ahh I don`t have a nipple
Resident;- laughter- I meant on the other one
Me: nope
Resident: Your mammogram was clean, but Dr. T will still want to see you

In walks Dr. T
Handshakes all around, remembers my husbands profession and jokes around while examining me, asks me about my prosthetic and whether it is bothering me and we talk about best ways to get to see a plastic surgeon faster. Says that everything looks good but he has a questions
Me: What
Dr. T: pokes me and say..not for you ,..shsh..for your husband...lots of laughter all around
Dr. T helps me sit up and tells me he will see me in a year after my next mammogram.

So there you go. All I hope is that my family doctor decides to move on to another city and I get someone who will at least read my chart prior to entering the room instead of forgetting me in the waiting room. Also, I have not heard about the referral yet and will propably have to call to ensure he put it in...sigh, what a difference a doctor can make.

Grow old with me

5 years ago I said "I do". I was one of those late bloomers who wanted to test the waters of the dating pool before jumping in to catch my fish. My mother got to the point that unless they made it to the 6 week mark she didn't want to know their name. It was really simple in my books, I wanted a guy like my dad. I had to date a lot of Mr. Wrongs to find one Mr. Right.

The first time B met my parents was the morning after we had celebrated his birthday. I had made lobster linguine and we went out on the town with his friends. He woke up the next morning and asked "What time will your parents be here" ...buzz..."ahh about NOW". So not only was he hung over but he went through the social graces of meeting my parents and watching my mother choose his leftover dinner for lunch<which I think he wanted to take home...and has never let me forget> .

I woke up one day 6 years later and decided that I was too old to call B my boyfriend anymore and it was time we got married. 6 months later B asked me to marry him<he is not one to cave under pressure>. I don't have a romantic proposal story but it is "us"

Christmas Eve lying in bed watching Spiderman. When the uncle gets shot, B turns to me and says
B: what are you doing in June?
Me: June? How do I know...that is 6 months away
B: Want to get married then
Me; No I don't want to get married in June, it's rainy..wait are you asking me to marry you?
B: yes
Me: I would rather September <I like to work out details before committing>
B: September would be fine too
Me: Then yes
B: Produces a homemade ring///which I still have/// but he later replaced it with the real version
Me: Ok then

Then we go back to watching the movie.....

So after 12 years together and 5 years of marriage our life ..for the most part ..has been easy. We have been through a lot in those past 12 years
- Death of friends and family
- Inability to have children
- Cancer with my mom, dad, cat and me
- Divorces and remarriages of family and friends
- Remodeling ..which can me more taxing on a marriage than any of the above
- Loss of a job
- Going back to school
-etc.

But through it all we have had lots of laughter, lots of tears and best of all.. lots of love. I never thought that when I took the vow of for better or worse that we would truly be tested to the limits on both ends.

Each time when I say good night I realize how lucky I am to have B in my life and as each day goes by it really does get better and better. I am glad I waited to marry my best friend and as we grow old and more aches and pains come along I am glad he is there to rub my feet and not want to throw me off a cliff...now that's love!

Slap me silly

This time last year I was newly diagnosed and surrounded by people I did not want to tell in hopes of having one final "normal" weekend of fun before my life changed. This year I am complaining about my life and I think I need a good slap.

Now don't get me wrong my life is pretty close to perfect but it has been warm here lately..which is amazing in itself. The heat has caused me to sweat and sweating while having a hot flash ...well I may as well put a bowl under me and open up my own pool.

Now the drug I am taking to control the hot flashes is working. I am down to 2-3 a day on average. I have also begun to itch ..not there!...but beneath my scar. It is a weird feeling when you itch beneath a surface that you want to scratch. You start scratching but realize that the top layer of skin is numb so you never get down to the place that needs to be scratched. I am thinking about finding a tree and rubbing my chest against it in hopes of relief...now THAT would give the neighbours something to talk about. They would probably think I am practicing some odd type of pole dancing.

On top of the itch the rubber on the back of the prosthetic and the clamminess of my body are reacting against each other and causing me to whip the boob out for occasional relief.

On the flip side, I am now one week without the wig and I have had lots of people comment that I should keep my hair this way. You crazy fools I am going to let my hair grow...GROW..GROW. Until of course it takes too long to dry and then I will hack it off again.  I do have to think about my newly exposed head and find that being out in the sun for any length of time is not a good thing and I find myself seeking shade more than I ever have.

Now I have complained..a bit..but don't get me wrong, I am happy these are my only problems in my life and let's face it..the heat...nothing that a little <or big> margarita can't cure!

RIP Girls

Today I felt brave and scared all at the same time. For weeks I have had a bottle of hair dye in my cupboard that has been calling my name, but the last time I dyed my own hair it came out the colour of rhubarb and I had to have it stripped and redyed...taking years of split ends to recover. So you can see why I was a bit weak in the knees to attempt this "great" feat.

The thought came a couple of weeks ago when I looked at my hair growth and thought that if I dyed my hair I could then go out in public without my wig on. "Cindy" and "Molly" have been there for me every day and I hesitated greatly at the thought of leaving them behind. I have been going wigless around the house but have only ventured outside to take the dog to pee and only in the wee hours of the morning or late at night.

Some people have shown up at the house and seen me sans wig but these sightings have been rare and more or less I was in a "I don't care mood". So I decided that if I was going to brave this venture of saying goodbye to the wigs I was not doing it alone.

I called my hairdresser.

I soon realized that it has been 10 months since I last sat in her chair and I felt like a kid on the first day of school. I woke up and thought about doing some early morning errands before my hair appointment but only ventured far enough to drop my husband off at a local car rental company.

Upon coming home, I was not expecting the veracious barking from my dog. He went all crazy dog as I walked up to the front door. Teeth barring and barking like mad as I told him to sit as I entered the door. He then realized it was me and went crazy excited jumping on me. I guess he has only seen me inside without my wig and the strange lady on the outside wasn't mommy. Silly puppy!

I then got ready and hopped in the car. I rolled down both front windows and let the breeze flow though my hair working up the courage to venture the day ahead. I kept checking the mirror as it felt like my hair was blowing all over the place, which if you could see my hair would make you laugh as it is ..at most...three fingers long.

I found a primo parking space given the fact that my hairdresser is downtown and the gay pride parade was going to start before my appointment was over. 80,000 people makes parking challenging..just sayin'.

As part of my hair cut ritual, I always bring my hairdresser a little Starbucks treat. Today I decided a Very Berry Hibiscus drink <cold> was the right choice. As I ventured down one of the busiest summer streets in my city I felt oddly strong with my wig free self and very grey/black hair.

I stepped into her salon and was immediately greeted with a hug and tears of joy to see me...have I mentioned I love my hairdresser?! She laughed over the fact that someone had put me in for foils and for the next two hours we laughed, cried and talked like I had only been gone for two weeks. It is amazing how much..and not so much...changes in 10 months.

I completely trust her and have never told her how to do my hair. She senses a need for change and knows that she can do whatever. She did ask me whether I felt bold and wanted to make a statement. Ahh no...I just don't want to look like a person who has HAD cancer and is growing out their hair.

I must admit when she took off the towel to revel red hair I took a deep breathe in. Only 2 hours ago my dog freaked out at me...now what will he do? She trimmed <yup..actual hair fell> and brushed and when she was finished I actually looked like a real live girl. My hair is short, there is no denying that it is not growing quickly BUT my hair looks almost intentional..no longer cancer patient-ish. I am so glad I came to her instead of doing it on my own.

I was excited to show off my new look so I texted <how 2012> some friends and before I knew it there was a group of us going to dinner and hanging out after at my "off with the wig" impromptu party. Sadly the last person to see my new do was my own husband who smiled and told me I looked great. Now to show the the world.

Squeeezzzeee

It is hard to believe it is time for a mammogram already. Last year was my first one and by now I feel like a pro, but I was wondering how/if they would do a mammogram on my right side...cause let's face it there is nothing there to squeeze. I thought about this a little too much the night before and spent half the night tossing and turning and the other half working myself up into a frenzy about "what ifs".

No more what ifs ...the day came.

I checked in and changed into the infamous johnny shirt and barely sat my butt in the waiting room before I was called....wow they are on time today <I on the other hand was 5 mins late>. I got into the room with Technician L and she asked me a couple of questions.

TL: So the last time you were here....pause
Me: I had a lump
TL: which they biopsied and then you had a right mastectomy?
Me: That pretty much sums it up <minus the whole, cancer chemo thing>
TL: Ok then let's get started

She started with the left side. I held onto the "holy F%Ck" bar, took a deep breath in and squeeze went the machine. She took her picture, rotated my breast and squeeze again and took a picture. This took all of about 5 mins.

Then came the right side.

Me: So how do you plan on doing this side
TL:hmmm they really cleaned you
Me: ahh yeah
TL: people always want to know how we do this

And here is me thinking...dah! <I know I am using the big words today>

So picture this
1. Take your armpit and jam it into the corner of the plate until it feels like it is touching the inside of your rib cage
2. Put your arm on the "holy F%Ck" bar
3. Lean your head and chin wayyyy back
4. Take note of how sexy you look
5. Let the machine squeeze down onto any flesh available
6 Hold your breathe
7. Take a picture

That's pretty much it...did it hurt? Not really just more uncomfortable
Did she get a picture? Yup it was about the size of half of my little finger thick

I went out into the waiting room and about 5 mins later I was cleared for take off. Well I must admit..this year was soooo much better than last year. I should get a gold star!

The Break Up

Time flies when you are having fun, or just not at the hospital constantly...I guess those are both the same thing. My much anticipated appointment with my radiation oncologist came and went..yup..you heard me.

I had waited for quite awhile for this appointment. Only to have it moved another 2 weeks. The day finally came to see what my future appointments held. I sat looking at the waiting room I looked at all of the people around me who were in various stages of their treatment and one who was filling out the initial paperwork. I thought..this chapter is closing and I am a better person for it. I do appreciate things more, I attempt to have more patience and try to enjoy each day as it comes.

Oh wait the nurse just called my name..off we go.

Nurse M: How are you feeling
Me: Still have the hot flashes..about 4-5 a day
Nurse: Anything else?
Me: Nope
Nurse: How are your bowels
<why does everyone want to discuss my poop..ok let's just get it out there...I fart and they are not always "gentle whispers"..I poop and yes sometimes it smells more than others..I can tell when I have had corn..THERE...it's all out there in cyber land now!>
Me: Normal <evil glare at husband just in case he decides to speak up..aka makes a smart ass remark>
Nurse: Any questions before I get Dr. R?
Me: Reconstruction?
Nurse: I will look and make sure the paperwork has been sent in. Change and Dr. R will be in shortly

And with that she disappeared...enter Dr. R

He does a quick exam feeling under each armpit. He mentioned I have scar tissue under my left arm pit...ahh Dr. R are you drinking? My surgery was on the right? No scar tissue just tight tendons. Still do my arm exercises each day to keep up the mobility.

He checks my lungs by me breathing in and out. Asks how my energy level was and tells me a couple things
1. I should be having 1000 mg of vitamin D daily <ok apparently me outside is not enough>
2. Walking is good so long as I am slightly winded by the end of the walk..ok I guess I need to pick up the pace
3. Eat a diet rich in fruits and vegetables...easy peasey
and that's it.

What do you mean that is it?
No blood work, no cat scans?
What if it comes back?
Basically he said he didn't want to see me until his retirement party.

Dr R just broke up with me and I am not sure how I feel about it.

I am elated that I am no longer considered a cancer patient but I have spent the past year of my life with these people and now they are onto someone who needs their attention more than a "healthy" person.BUT..on the flip side...I now feel a bit lost, sad and confused. Every book, person you talk to and movie always has a follow up after chemo and radiation. I know I was a superstar but......sniff

bye bye cancer centre you were great to me..but I have to go now...and celebrate!

Sticky Situation

So I have had the prosthetic for awhile now and have not yet used the "glue" that came with it. It has been hot here the last couple of days and friends of our decided to take their backyard science experiment <aka the pool> and get it ready for the season. I was only too happy to oblige in taking the first plunge.

After my flotation device experiment in Greece <yes I am still rubbing that trip in> I decided I would try the medical adhesive that comes with the prosthetic. My skin is well healed so I figured why not. I prepped the area with what looks and smells like an alcohol wipe. Then applied the adhesive around the edge. Now you are suppose to wait 3-5 minutes for the glue to set up. It is kind of like contact cement in this respect.
After about 4 minutes <thought I would wait half way> I touched the glue and realized that this is a one shot deal to get it right, as once it was stuck on it was not going to come off easily. So I paid close attention and stuck it on ..squeezing it in. So if the glue didn't work the suction power would. From a naked stand point the stuck on boob looks awkward. As "isn't" stays up and "is" hangs further down...I guess this may be my future as well and "is" may need a lift kit!
I finished putting my bathing suit on and thought..Damn..that works. It felt weird to have something glued to me as it almost felt like someone moving a band aid around on my skin. I hopped in the pool and spent the next hour flinging kids up, being jumped on and doing a "crab" walk through the pool. If the glue held out for this inaugural flight then it had endured one of the toughest tests.  KIDS!
When undressing, half of the boob was still stuck and half was peeling off, but over all I was impressed. I still had to wring it out but the glue was still sticky and I could just stick it back on. It did need the removal pad to take off all of the glue as even though the chlorine and kids did a number on it, it was still like peeling a very sticky band aid off of my skin and the removal pad was the easier way to go. They say that you can leave it on for 5 days but I think I will leave the glue for gardening a swimming adventures as the average day doesn't need it.
So if you are looking for a test subject, might I recommend three nine year old girls and one 2.5 year old boy. One of these kids is also the same one who had this conversation with me one night:
I walked though the front door
She looked at me
M: So do you have any hair yet
Me: Not enough yet
M: ok
and walked away to play with her friends...kids...honesty or nothing!

Empty Nest

It is hard to believe that it has been close to a year since my whole ordeal began. In what time it would take to have a baby I found a lump, had surgery, did chemo and radiation, had a vacation and I am now back to work. I guess time does fly even when you are not having fun.

The odd thing is that you need to go back to normal. If I can even remember what normal is. Normal feels like a lifetime ago. Meanwhile, my body has changed in appearance but my attitude has not. Guess that should be put on the wish list for "slightly altered". Going back to a conversation that doesn't involve how I am feeling, looking or when my next appointment is...is...well..odd to say the least.

People still ask how I am doing when they first see me after awhile, but quickly move past. I am not adverse to talking about my cancer experience..obviously..but I am glad there are more <and better> things to talk about and look forward to. Like singing to Glee Karaoke and wondering if the neighbours will call to shut us down, planting and replanting the same poor perennials until I find their "forever home", waking up to a snoring husband, puppy and cat..knowing they are all content even if I can't sleep, laughing like idiots with my family until your belly hurt or someone pees their pants- you know who you are -and still forever trying to find the best molasses ginger cookie.

While I will never forget my experience, and I personally am reminded of my having cancer on a daily basis, I have gone back to days where the C word is is a rarity as opposed to a continuous conversation. I have moved on. My days now consist of daily tasks and chores, summer time fun and lots of laughter. So sorry for you cancer, but you are no longer my child to care for. I am done with you. I am kicking you out the door, and I am looking forward to being an empty nester.

Saddle Up

I have been back to work for just over two weeks and I am thankful when Friday roles around. I feel like I am 8, where I want to stay up past 9:30pm but my eyes and body work against me. I am tired at the end of each day and some night it is an effort to change into my pjs. The other night I stayed up until 11pm on a Saturday night and paid for it the next day. I spent the whole day in a fog and realized that I am still in need of my beauty sleep.

I went to see my oncologist today for what I thought would be my next schedule of appointments, only to learn that he is signing off on me. Since the radiation oncologist was the last to see me, he is the lucky winner of my future appointments. I feel kind of sad to leave Dr. R and Nurse H, but realize there are <unfortunately> many more to care for behind me. While my treatment is over my care is not. They both think I am crazy for going back to work so soon and not to push it....ahh did I mention how many steps I climbed in Greece??? Plus, let's face it..I am stubborn and didn't see the need to hang around the house when I could be at work earning money!

I am taking care of myself and attempting to exercise <shhh don't tell my body> and eat well. I cannot believe it has been almost a year since I found a lump. When I was being diagnosed I thought the journey would take forever. Now when I look back it feels like it was a flash...almost..not real...almost. My eyelashes are growing and so is my hair. While neither is growing at any quick rate, I see changes for the good every day.

While waiting to see the doctor today I was getting frustrated with how late he was running. Then I discovered that he was late because a woman who is 36 years old, and has had breast cancer, both breasts removed and the cancer has returned to her lungs and liver, is now receiving more bad news; which she will have to go home and tell her 4 year old daughter. I thought to myself, relax, no need to rush, time is something I am lucky to have on my side. Tomorrow I get to wake up, knowing my body is getting better each day. I am loved beyond words from a large support network and feel blessed for everything I have. Others are not so lucky, but today...luck is on my side. I feel like a girl who has won the lottery...called LIFE!

It's worth the climb

I was a little worried about my trip and all of the walking I would be doing. Would I be able to keep up, how would my energy level be by the end of the day and was I taking on too much and should have just sat on a beach somewhere instead?

It is funny how some of the smallest things are the things that never cross your mind and then cause you sudden panic. For instance. I was more worried about the walking and dragging others back and never even thought about wearing my wig on a plane ...overnight! I have taken naps wearing it and it did not look pretty when I woke up. It was twisted and all messed up. I realized this fact somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. Which is probably why I didn't sleep a whole lot as I was worried that I would freak out those around me...thankfully an older gentleman did this for me when he thew up his dinner and red wine all over himself. I was trying to not gag and throw up while my husband kept asking me to look to see what was going on...from now on I get the window seat!~

Another instance came when I went through airport security and was randomly selected to be either patted down or go through the machine. Even though the customs agent comforted me that the machine does not emit regular radiation rays, I figured I had had enough radiation and opted for the pat down. Before she began I explained my wig, prosthetic and that I was still healing from radiation. She was wonderful and if I didn't know better I would say she gave me a massage and sent me on my way.

All in all, I did well at the walking...and there are A LOT of steps to climb. I took my time and stopped when I got out of breath. I was happy to find that others in my party felt the same on some of the climbs. I noticed an increase in my ability each day and by the end of the trip I found the steps easier to climb..not easy..just eas-ier. And when I thought I had no energy left I would look behind me, see the Asian bus tour pull up and know that I had better move my butt fast! It is amazing that energy suddenly finds you.

I even discovered that I never have to worry about drowning if I am wearing my prosthetic. My friend and I were trying to touch the bottom of the pool and she was able to touch with her tippy toe, but I could never get down far enough. Then I stopped and realized I was floating without needing to tread...I then went and showed my husband my new pool trick. hmmm..."squeeze the water out" he said ...I then sunk like a rock!

I am so glad that I took this trip to relax, enjoy and see a beautiful country. One more cross off on my bucket list. I also met a women <working at a spa of all places> who had had breast cancer and was now 10 years past her diagnosis. She gave me hope, knowledge and security in my future. It is great to find wonder it the most unusual of places.

Packing Up

As a celebration to end cancer and to get away from it all, we have booked a trip to GREECE. It is at the top of my bucket list and can't wait to head out to see the crystal blue waters and white and blue buildings...not to mention that we are looking forward to eating <and drinking> our way through the mainland and islands. So needless to say this will be my last post for a couple of weeks.

Packing up is quite the challenge. Normally, we are throw everything in a bag and hope for the best kind of people. BUT this time I had to
1. rifle through my clothes to see what would work- this can be depressing on the best of days but now realize I will need to buy some new work wardrobe pieces
2. Buy new bathing suits that hide the prosthetic- most women want to bear their breasts while sun bathing..me ..not so much..I am more trying to hide my nubbin'
3.Think about how to wash "cindy", bring "molly" as backup just is case Cindy gets caught on fire from the flaming cheese-note to self do not order anything saganaki
4. Pack the back up boob in case the prosthetic bothers me- that should be fun at customs should they question it...do I whip out the prosthetic or whip off the wig?
5. Then there is the regular packing for hot and cold- and hot flashes -
6. And lastly print tickets, bring all current electronics <how do people with babies do it> oh yeah and remember our clothes- ahh the small details

To everyone...we love you, but don't miss us too much:) We'll be having a great time, will email when we can and lastly OPA!

Feeling Up

My skin is almost back to normal and has a lovely smooth feeling with a side of tan-ish. Let's face it, I am a VERY white girl and the radiation has caused me to have the darkest tan I have ever had, even if it is in one square foot and I had to have cancer to get it.

I have also gone to get my prosthetic as well. It was a bit weird when the lady who made it was explaining how to care for it. She squeezed it, showed me how to wash it, apply it <yes it can stick to you for 5 days with medical adhesive> and remove it. All the while I am thinking-sick as I am- am I being felt up from a distance? It is awkward, to say the least, watching someone manipulate a replication of your breast.

While it doesn't feel natural it is a pretty good replication and what I expect an implant to feel like. The colour and nipple came out well and the form is good in my regular bras. I have also begun wearing it for a couple of hours each day to get used to it. It is not heavy but it is heavier than the "sock" I have been wearing and I am still healing on my scar line...and not to mention that new skin is itchy!

The true test was when I went to dinner at my parents last weekend and my mother told me that my left side was hanging down a bit...I looked down and then back at her and said..."But that's my real one" to which my lovely endearing mother replied "Maybe they can give you a lift".

Ahh I can feel the love.

To hell and back

When people talk about having been through cancer they talk about the war they have been through. While I cannot relate to our troops I can relate to a war on my body and I have the battle scars to prove it. It is one week since the end of my radiation and my skin still continues to peel. Some in new spots, some in old spots. Under my armpit it has peeled down to what looks like the dermis layer -very gross- and was all weepy and not pretty smelling after the day.

I am back to having showers and find the water running down the front is soothing. I am also soaking the skin at night aka taking a bath and find that each day that my skin is not as painful as the day before. I can wear a bra for the day but have developed an appeal for the freedom of not wearing one. I think I might have been a nudist in a former life...although I am sure my neighbours appreciate my clothed self...not to mention my family and friends.

I think I am close to the end of the peeling stage and still slap a mixture of flamazine, hydro cortisone and lubriderm on various areas as my chest and armpit as they are all at various stages.

As I look at my hands, I wonder where my pretty nails have gone. Instead I am left with `tiger lines`` and what looks like I have slammed several of my fingers in a car door. It looks like my nails are going to peel off in layers as they grow out but at least it doesn`t look like they are going to fall off...my toes are another story.

I have been watching my toes, as a chemo side effect is loosing nails...as opposed to being THAT bored. I am sad to say that one of my big toes is not going to win. While the other one might not look so pretty it is nothing that some nail polish cannot disguise. I am just hoping the other one will hang on until after my pedicure and trip..else my sandal days may cause some unusual foot staring.

My ``root`` vein is still hanging around like an unwanted friend but it is not as apparent as it use to be and the blown out vein lines are fading each day. They now look the colour of a week old bruise.

In all of this it is sometimes hard to see the silver lining but there are some: my real hair is growing in...even in the bald patches. Mind you some of it looks like pubic hair but I guess beggars can`t be choosers. I now have one eyelash on its way in and if you look reallllly close you can see some eyebrows too. But the biggest news is that the hot flashes have started to decrease...whoot whoot! I have gone from having 15-20 a day -so basically soaked the whole day and feeling like I peed myself- to 6-10 a day and only slightly damp!

I went out last night and had a glass of wine with dinner, only had one hot flash during the concert and came home with energy to spare...watch out world...I`M COMING BACK!

Doin` the jig

So...yesterday should have been the final hurrah but due to a broken down machine, I have been extended by one day. I realize it is only one day -which I did try to get out of- but mentally that one extra day was draining. I had set my sights on being done on a particular day and when that day came and went it was hard to swallow. But today is the day and if the machine breaks down today it better be really broken, else I may have a baseball bat in hand to make sure it doesn`t come back up. I am done and mentally checked out from this whole cancer thing.

My skin is also crying  ``uncle`` as it is peeling, weeping and not so pretty looking. I have flamazine to put on it has gone past the top layers of skin. You know it looks bad when the doctor shrinks back going ohhh.

My husband and I have decided that after I am finished this last treatment that we will end this ordeal the same way we started. Having dinner at a really nice restaurant. Only this time I will have a drink and no tears. Only big happy smiles and maybe a jig. Cheers!

Hell hath no fury

I may not be a woman scorned but I am definitely now a woman who is scorched!

I have to keep reminding myself why I chose this path..oh yeah... to survive. Up until last week the burn did not bother me much. It was to the point where I wanted to claw it out but some hydro cortisone cream ..and time.. took that away. I am burnt to the colour of embers in a fire now and the worst part is under my armpit. Along my scar and in my armpit a blister formed and broke open ..and formed..and broke open. It is quite nasty looking and the front of my chest is very sensitive.

I am giving a stripper a run for their money, as the moment I walk through the door I am whipping my bra off and flinging it as fast as it will go. The relief felt is unbelievable. I thought about going out the other day without one on. I had on a t-shirt and baggy sweatshirt and I asked my husband...does it look obvious. I got a raised eyebrow look followed by..ahh yeah! So while I am far from Dolly Pardon I guess it would be better to be smaller, as being the one boob wonder will not pass in public. Mind you if Dolly lost one boob she could still use the first one to reconstruct the second one and still have ample amounts. My cup does not runneth over so much.
Right now though, to sleep on my side causes the skin to crinkle and be painful, so sleeping on my back with my arm propped up is the most comfortable. Not so good for my husband as I do admit to snoring ..a little bit...while on my back. While standing I feel like I am in model pose as it is most comfortable to ``air my armpit out``. So having my hand on my hip suddenly makes you sashay around looking all cool....well not really but it is more comfortable.
I keep reminding myself, only three more treatments until the finish line. All I have to say is that there better be a lollipop at the end instead of a hot flash!

Time Flies

I cannot believe I only have 4 more treatments of radiation left; unfortunately, my skin may say otherwise. I think going everyday <and trying to find the best parking spot> has made the time fly by. I am thankful that I am a short drive to the hospital as I am sure anyone living further out may not feel the same way.

While I have the countdown on, the technicians seem to want to hold on. My doctor checkup days are every Tuesday, but occasionally, if nothing changes, I can fore go the additional wait and skip out. This week I decided to skip the visit as nothing has really changed. Yes my skin is red, yes the hot flashes are still going but nothing "new" that makes me want to wait an additional 30 minutes in a waiting room to wait 20 more minutes in another room to see a doctor for 5 minutes.

Yesterday <Wednesday> the technicians agreed that they should call the doctor in to see my skin as they thought maybe due to its redness that he would stop the pad treatment....got news for them...I knew the answer. It was more burn baby burn. My skin is VERY red and beginning to flake and I have a couple spots on my scar which have deteriorated <Blistered and broke open> but I keep thinking about the daily shrinking treatments.

Our bathroom could rival a drugstore for creams and ointments as I have bought a lot of them..nothing really works. Yes the hydro cortisone takes away the itch but it is my burnt armpit and peeling back that are bothering me. My skin is sensitive and in a sick way I am surprised it is not worse than it is.

So today was treatment 20 and while I am laying there all set up, staring at the ceiling I noticed the machine isn't going..hmm. Then the technician comes in and says "a door is open"? Then she walks back out and still no machine happenings...hmm. Both of the technicians came in to "play around" and then I was told the machine will take about 15 minutes to come back up. So I decided to lie there..what else is a girl to do...and contemplate life...nah...I just stared at the ceiling. So after 40 minutes I was finally out of there...wonder what final day 4 will bring?

Hair Envy

In life I have not wanted for much. Nor have I been the kind of person to covet what others have...until now. I find myself sitting in the hospital waiting room and staring at other people's hair. Yup you guessed it <I am sure the title helped> I have "hair envy".

Each day I look closely at my eyelashes and eyebrows for any sight of growth. My head still has the fuzzies but no sign of "real" hair. Unfortunately, each day I have been disappointed. I haven't spent much time googling things throughout my journey but the other day I did google how long before my hair grows. The common consensus is that it starts growing 6 weeks after your last chemo and within two months you will have 1 inch of growth. Which means that I should have almost an inch of hair growth...and obviously I am going to be the exception to the rule.

I am sure my hair follicles are still dizzy with the chemo drugs that coursed through my veins as I still have "war wounds" visible from the chemo injections. So in the meantime, I decided it was time to switch things up and get a new wig. I have decided to call her Cindy. It may not be real hair but it is kind of fun to be able to switch up the styles so easily without having to wait during the growing out stage. Now if I could only find a way to encourage my real hair to grow...maybe it needs fertilizer...you would think that with all of the shit I have been through, it would be growing out of control.

Itchy and Scratchy

I am 12 treatments in of radiation (half way) and have developed small water blisters on my upper part of my chest. I would love to scratch them to pieces but know this will only complicate things. I feel like a kid who has chicken pox and should tape oven mitts on my hands to prevent the scratching.

The urge sometimes to scratch is high. So instead I look like Napoleon and lay my hand over the area in hopes it will calm down. This is not an act to perform in public though..just sayin'.

I have been using Lubriderm for sensitive skin but I think it is time to move onto something with some medication in it as I still have 13 more treatments to go through. At the rate I am going, I will have weeping skin by the end of this..again did I mention how attractive this process is. Just when you think, this isn't so bad..whammo!

I see the doctor tomorrow..supposedly.. as up until now I haven't had any reason to actually see him so he has not come out to play. They forewarned me that it would be around my third week before anything would happen and boy are they right. One day my skin was slightly tanned with a ting of red and the next it had little bumps on it. Then those bumps became itchy ..I am blaming it on the rubber pad days which brings the radiation to the surface and causes my skin to get more red on those days.

I have to keep reminding myself that I am half way through this cycle and I would rather do this than the last three cycles of chemo any day. So wish me luck as I go through the next two weeks looking like I have scabies with my hand in my shirt and hoping my husband doesn't buy a shirt which reads "I'm NOT with Scratchy".

Study me

I have a friend who ironically is writing a thesis on why women do/do not return to work after dealing with breast cancer. I am proud to say I was her first interview and happy to help her out. I was unsure of what questions she would ask and where her focus would be. After 30 minutes and a couple of tears later we were done.

It still surprises me how after all I have been through, that talking about my diagnosis and remembering when I told people that I had breast cancer is what brings out emotion in me. Having the surgery, chemo and now radiation doesn't really phase me as I have seen many others do the same, but how you receive your diagnosis and tell people is very personal. Everyone in this case is different. Some people are open from the beginning, others take a while and I am sure others never tell. How you decide to do it is one of the few things YOU actually get to decide in this crazy process.

I was fortunate that my work was understanding and compassionate about my situation. I know of others who were not so fortunate and I can understand why woman change jobs or just do not go back to work at all.

Having breast cancer is humbling.

Yes there are many things out there which can help you through, prosthesis, wigs, makeup..etc but in general people know your situation. The average person passing you on the street wouldn't know the difference about me but everyone at my work knows differently. I am lucky that I am able to laugh about my boob that tends to move around, that Molly <my wig> always looks the same <except when I get too close to the stove> and that I have faced my cancer head on and there is no going back. I am also lucky to not only have a large support group, but within that group contains my coworkers and employer.

I wish for a future when more people are able to share their stories so that we can make a change in the stigma that goes along with the word cancer. I wish that we would hear more stories about survivors as opposed to people who have passed and most of all I wish for a future where cancer is no longer a common diagnosis.

Call me Flasher

Well radiation has begun and I am a whole 4 days in and already feel like a veteran at the process. The first day was a little intimidating as I didn't know what to expect. I registered at reception and changed into a Johnny shirt <ties to the back> and robe. Attempted to put my clothes in a locker which were all filled and then decided to stuff them in a bag I had brought instead. Sat in the waiting room for what felt like forever and then my name was called.

I followed Technician A into a doorway that had a control room on the left and then rounded around a hallway to reveal the radiation room. I took off my robe and undid the ties of my Johnny shirt and laid on the "bed". It is actually a hard plastic slab with another hard plastic piece on top of it. There is a metal curve pillow to put your head, comfort is obviously their main concern. I took my arm out of the Johnny shirt and rested it above on what looked like two stirrup holders. From there it actually felt like I was getting a pap test with the move up, move down scenario playing out. <sorry to the men who have never had this lovely experience>

Once I was lined up, out came the fancy measuring tools..yup a ruler. The lights were turned off and I realized there was a laser level above and beside me. The table moved up and down until the markings matched. Then they marked where my tattoos were. The second technician talked throughout the process to let me know what was going on. I felt like a flasher as every two seconds as the constantly whipped my shirt open and closed to ensure I hadn't moved. Then they left the room.

A machine that looks like the bottom part of a microscope started to rotate over my head and position itself above my chest with a paddle looking piece moving to my back. The one over my head/chest had a orb hat contained a series of metal bars which started shifting into a programmed pattern which for me consisted of two dashes and something that looked like half a mouse followed by two dashes. Two buzzing nosies went off <which I later learnt were the xrays> then both technicians came back in made sure I was still lined up and left the room again. Again more buzzing noises and the machine moved sideways. In came the technicians and told me I was doing great...ahhh I am just lying here.

On and off with the lights..yup still lined up...trust me I wasn't moving. Hell, I was barely breathing. They told me the radiation therapy would now begin and what felt like about a minute later I was being told to relax my arm and the table was being lowered. I was finished. It took about half an hour from start to finish but it felt like about 10 minutes. I got changed and went home and that was that. One down 24 more to go.

Day 2 was a little different. I had one of the same technicians and one new one <well..new to me>. I was told that every second day I would have this rubber pad placed on me as it brings the radiation closer to the surface. In order to keep the pad in place they used this advance technology...called masking tape to tape me down. I literally looked like I was in Gulliver's travels with long strips of masking tape from one side of me to the other. I joked that these pictures had better not show up on facebook....I am not sure they got the joke..I guess that is more of a day 10 joke.

It didn't feel any different and I was in and out in 20 minutes, but I realized that the wait time to get into this room could be long as they were a half hour behind schedule. The good part <if it can be called that> is that when you register it tells you how far behind each of the rooms are. Kind of like the wait times being posted a Disney..except the group of people is less and the lineup isn't as entertaining. A room filled with people in Johnny shirts..some of which need to be longer (much) and bigger is not something you want to see at anytime of the day.

I kept hearing people say they had one more treatment or were finished today ...sigh...but hey, I am at the point where I only have 21 more to go.

Getting Plastered

So I decided that since chemo was over maybe I should look into getting a prosthetic. As, up until now, I have been basically stuffing my bra with a "sock" and constantly having to adjust. My poor husband has been the boob monitor, telling me if I am high or low. I have seen the out of the box versions but thought since reconstruction waits can take up to two years here, I thought that maybe a custom prosthesis was the way to go.

So I booked an appointment and off I went. She started off on her spiel of the different generic options. Who knew there were so many. Some were tear dropped, some were round, some were foam which you can shape, some were silicone and the swimming one apparently floats...err I don't want that one unless I was drowning. Then I could only picture the rescue boat coming and my one fake boob bobbing for air..pass.

At his point I had molested several prosthetics and made up my mind that none of these would work for me. Some I felt were too heavy and no different than what I had now. Then the lights shone as she produced the custom one. It actually looked like a breast, it was foam-like but still had enough weight to it. This is the option I decided on. Then she told me the price and I almost threw up, but thankfully I have insurance which is kind enough to pay for it.

I made an appointment for the following week to have the cast done and off I went. I asked my husband to come along on this venture with me as you get to pick the colour of the breast and nipple and thought he may want to weigh in on it. Plus he is always interested in the process of things and thought he might enjoy it.

I arrived, got changed into my dirty clothes as this is a messy process and we began. She marked the centre of my chest and around the curve of my breast. I then put on a bra and she marked my breast with where the bra cuts. Then mirrored the markings on the other side. <side note. she makes the custom prosthetic as a reflection of your existing breast and it fits naturally in your bra not in a pocket like other ones>
I looked like someone was about to perform an autopsy on me.

Next she began placing the plaster strips on my actually breast. They were cold and slimy and the dripping down my body made me shiver. By the time she had this finished I was getting rather warm..seriously..now is the time I am going to have a hot flash? Meanwhile my ever so helpful husband was reminding me to stand up straight. The cast actually dried quickly and one look at me from K told me I needed a moment to sit down. I was sweating. She opened a window and got me a glass of water but I was willing to solider on. Too bad my body wasn't in agreement.

About 5 strips in I was feeling woozy and we all agreed that I could sit for the remainder of the process. She had to take the current pieces off and start again. I didn't last much longer, but at least she was able to get enough of the strips on before the tunnel vision to a pin point started to happen and I needed to get to the floor and lay on my back. Now you know I am having issues when I am not worried that my wig is going to get drops of plaster on it. After about two minutes on the floor all was good again, but I decided to be a good patient and lay there until the cast was done. At this point I am very glad my husband came with me. I have never passed out, but came close a couple of times and I hate the feeling.

After a couple minutes of me drinking more water and my colour coming back, she began to mix up this very gooey purple stuff. Which I soon found out was to make the nipple cast. This stuff going on your nipple was not a pleasant experience and it felt like someone was putting Elmer's glue on my nipple. But it looked like frosting! During the drying period I picked out the colours for the breast and nipple and decided on the "erectness" of the nipple. If you are interested you can choose to have freckles and veining as well. I attempted to wipe most of the plaster off my body, got dressed and we were off.

I am not sure what brought on the dizzy spell but for the rest of the day I was very off and thirsty. Well at least it was a memorable experience..one I am sure we nor K will ever forget.

The war rages on

I have been finished my last chemo treatment for almost two weeks now. I continued with my "cocktail" of continuous drugs, massage and laying low; which worked and again I didn't have nearly as much discomfort as I did the first time on this drug. What I did have more this this time was complete exhaustion. I was so tired, but each time I went to lay down my brain started to get up and running, to the point where I was about ready to bang it against the headboard....shut up I need sleep!

The stupidest things would pop into my head; like, how many Spanish words do I know...let's just say you know it is going to be a short conversation when it starts with quesadilla. So I must admit that ativan and I have occasionally gotten acquainted as it doesn't put me to sleep, but it does make the gears in my brain turn off.

I did not come through this round unscathed. My skin is peeling off like a snakes second skin. I have a red spot where my vein is rejecting the drug, my right hand is swollen-but no more and no less than the past times...and I lost my taste for almost two weeks. For a girl who enjoys cooking and food this was the hardest part. Watermelon is my friend- going in anyways.

I have also noticed some odd things that I didn't before. My nails are extremely dry and actually have bands on them like tree growth. One band for each chemo round. I have also noticed that people notice me crying but didn't know that I had no eyelashes or eyebrows...good to have long wig bangs and wear glasses. Although right now my body is in a state or not knowing if chemo is coming again or not as my face has suddenly started to break out. Seriously...3 pimples in one day...my mouth is still splitting from dryness and I am still wondering if I will loose a couple toenails. But I guess if that is the worst I come out of this with, then I guess I am doing OK.

My energy level is up and I can walk more that to the fridge without getting winded. I try to get out for daily walks but the sometimes frigid weather makes me shrink back inside the house in hopes that Spring will suddenly appear...but one long look from my dog makes me bundle up like the abominal snowman and off I go.

So while the battle between the chemo drugs and my body rages on, I at least feel now like I am on the winning side and can see the end in sight...right before they burn me!

A shot of happiness followed by a slap of reality

Today was my final dose of chemo! Hip Hip Hurray. The last round was easier than the time before, so this time I will not be a hero again and take the ibuprofen, Tylenol and claratin. Keep up the massages and hopefully 5 days from now the side effects of chemo will be over FOREVER.

As per usual they took several pokes to get my iv in. I am not sure if in hind site I would push for the portacath or not. While I feel bad for the nurses who have to inject me, as I swear they are in more pain doing it than I am receiving it. If you mind needles though...the portacath is the way to go.

To top off my happiness of finishing chemo, we have booked a trip away to Greece as a way of saying
FU%# you cancer. I am done. Now I feel like a child from the children's wish foundation. Only 5 weeks of radiation then I get my wish. Maybe I should also start their bead necklace..some people do say I still can act like a 6 year old.

As I was finishing up the dose, a lady walked in the room to start her treatment. She spoke with the nurse for awhile and then asked me "So what treatment is this for you". I was only too full of smiles to say "I am done and now onto radiation." She didn't respond right away, so I asked her the same question, to which she responded "I will never be finished". Slap. She had breast cancer two years ago and the cancer has returned to other organs. It just goes to show you can never be off you game and it will always be in the back of your mind every time you have a pain.

She did seem in fairly good spirits given her prognosis. I was told I could ring a bell when I finished my treatment but decided to pass out of respect for those who will never been finished dealing with cancer. To hear the bell ringing must be a constant reminder that they will never get to ring it.

On a final positive note, my tests all came back negative, so while I never rang the bell..I will hopefully never have to listen to others ring it either. So long chemo, I would like to say it's been fun ...but really....nah!

Cry Me A River

It took me awhile to get over the whole hair loss thing but Molly <my wig> made it a much easier transition. I just wish they had a Molly for my eyes. I have lost most of my eyebrows, not that I had many to begin with and all but two of my eyelashes.

I have never had bushy eyebrows and my "bangs" are long so no one notices their absence. I have also been wearing my glasses all of the time instead of contacts so I thought I would be all good with no one really noticing the lack of eyelashes. This theory would work if I would stop crying.

I never really thought about the fact that your eyelashes block and dirt and debris from getting into your eyes, as it happens automatically. Plus I do not make it a habit of standing in wind storms, so I thought..I'm good. Little did I know that a change in temperature can cause a non-eyelashed eye to water.

Due to the fact that I have no eyelashes, the way my body has decided to cope, and flush things away is with tears. This really isn't a problem unless you are say...oh I don't know...out walking your dog and wind hits you. Which is pretty easy to do in January in WINTER. Every time I take the dog for a walk, I am sure my neighbours think I am a basket case <like they need another reason> as by the time I get back to the house, my nose is red from sniffing and tears are streaming down my face faster than I can wipe them away.

Today I was "visiting" at work and they were painting, my boss is just casually talking with me about his upcoming wedding when all of a sudden I got a whiff of the paint fumes and my eyes started to water. Not wanting to appear like a sap  <or demented> I try to casually wipe the mound of water forming in my eyes away, well as I was doing this I must have had a little something on my finger; hence causing the mound of water to start streaming down my face. As anyone knows...if a man sees you crying, he will think of anything to get away....fast. I had to quickly explain..that it is because I don't have eyelashes! I am not sure if he believed me, but luckily I am not a sentimental person...so I think I am good as he did come back a while later and I kept it together.

I wish I could say that I have figured out a way to make this stop but I believe I will have to wait to grow a pair...of eyeslashes...come on April!

Tattin' it up

So the first tattoo I ever had was two dots from my core biopsy; which they cut off. My second tattoo is four dots, about the size of a pen tip...sad I KNOW!

How did I get these four dots? Well these are my radiation markers to be used to line me up for the process..wish I could say I got them in a more exciting way..but ..sigh..not so much.

I was quite surprised that I got in to an appointment so soon after my first meeting with the radiation oncologist, but I figured they had a space and I was there to fill it. As per normal, I was slightly late for my appointment, as I spent about 10 minutes roaming around our lovely hospital parking lot with a bunch of other cars before I decided...screw this and found a spot on the street. My tardiness was ok as the doctors/therapists were running behind as well.

I registered at the desk and then waited...what?...it is the first place that I didn't have to take a number first. I sat in a room half filled with people in Johnny shirts and the other half must have been "supporters".

BUT...I did wait 20 minutes before my name was called, and sadly I was the first person to leave the room in that period. I thought, well they are just going to get me changed and then back out I will go...but I was incorrect and was lead to a room down the hallway by one of the therapists. Now I should point out this is a radiation therapist as opposed to one who you lay down on the couch for and tell them all your woes. These therapists lay you on a machine and zap you!

She explained the process which I was about to go through, told me about discounted parking and left the room while I got changed into a johnny shirt..actually 2 -one on with ties in the back and one with ties in the front..guess this department doesn't have robes. As I was finished changing in comes Dr R who is wondering how I am doing and if I have any questions. Nope, let's get this party started.

I am led across the hallway with all of my clothes bundled in my arms and wearing my johnny shirt, knee high socks and dress shoes...maybe I should have thought about this part when getting dressed this morning as this was not the fashion statement I was going for. In the room there are three people <women> all of whom are busy getting the cat scan machine ready for me. They ask me to lay down on the bed...ahh...I am holding a bunch of clothes, my jacket and my purse...oh yeah...just put those over there....I assumed she meant the ledge as opposed to a machine which looked semi important. Then I took off my shoes and laid on the bed.

They asked if I wanted a hot blanket as the room is freezing! Yes please for my legs. This is when Therapist A says..oh I should have told you that you could have left your pants on...NOW YOU TELL ME. I disrobe and take my arms out of the johnny shirt. All three survey the scar and decide how they are going to go about this. The oldest of the three states "When I used to do this we would mark it here" WAIT...what is that word "used to"? I got the impression really quickly that they are not used to seeing breast patients who have had lymph nodes removed as they debated quite some time over how to include that part of the scar. They made a plan of attack and measured me up, made some markings and placed on the wire tape <which had a series of triangle cutouts which looked like arrows>. They eyed up my one breast and "matched" it to the other side. Then outlined the scar...needless to say there was a lot of this tape on me. I looked like a package that said "This way up".

Dr. R came in to survey the outline and ended up ripping half of it off and making the area bigger...ahh...my original breast was not that big..but thanks?! They then attempted to align me...but it was easier when I just said "I'm not aligned...let me just move"..sometimes it is easier to just do it yourself. Then they pressed the magic button and sent me through the cat scan a couple of times. Once they were satisfied with the line up, they came out with transparencies. Two in fact, and drew the outline of the tape and the scar. Is is sad that your scar doesn't fit on one 8.5x11 sheet?

After they were satisfied with their "template" they took off the tape, injected me with a needle filled with ink in four spots and I was done. They left the big room and went into the little room while I got changed..and then came out and took my picture. Apparently I will get an ID tag to let the therapists know that they have the right person. Ok I am sure there are not lots of people out there willing to take my spot but do what you need to do. They told me that my radiation was scheduled to begin in three weeks...ahh ...issue. I still have one more chemo. "You do?" ...did I mention I am not feeling very confident right now? They went out of the room and came back...ok we've rescheduled you until Feb 23rd...that makes more sense.

So the bad news in all of this is that my second tattoo is four little dots and the good news is that I will be finished this phase two weeks earlier than anticipated. That I can handle!

Holy Hot Flash Batman

I have always know what hot flashes were. As early as I can remember I can picture my mother standing outside in her nightgown in the middle of winter. Thinking my mother was fortunate to have periods where she was warm was apparently a grave misunderstanding on my part.

I am one of "those people" who in the middle of summer will have a blanket over me just to take the chill off; while others around me are in shorts and a tank top. So when I was told that a possible side effect was hot flashes I thought "bring them on"...finally I will be warm. What I was not anticipating was the degree in which they occur.

When you go to a Thai restaurant they forewarn you that dishes are one chili hot (mild) up to four chilies hot (bum burner)...well hot flashes kind of work the same way. Sometimes I just get a mild wave..just to warm you and other times I feel like I need to strip off and dance naked in the snow. I wonder what the neighbours would say?

I also wish there was a way to gauge when they came on and to what "chili" level they would be. I have discovered dressing in layers is probably the way to go and I am glad it is winter as the 4 chili ones would be brutal in the summer.

Here is my hot flash guide:

One Chili- This is just a mild wave of heat. It causes a slight perspiration line on the top of your lip and only warms your face. These tend to come in waves of three or four and are just enough to annoy you as opposed to warm you.

Two Chilies- I tend to get these after eating spicy food or while all bundled up waiting for my husband to still put on his shoes. Not only does the perspiration line occur but you feel like to want to lift your wig up a bit just to let some of the steam out. This one often causes sweat along your brow and lip line..sometimes extending to the back of your neck. These can be cooled down quickly with a couple of quick pulls to your shirt acting as a body fan or a cool cloth to the back of your neck.

Three Chilies- When I first started getting these it was usually the day or so after chemo but "oh lucky me" <sarcasm> kept having them. These usually occur when I am cuddled up with the hot water bottle, cat and dog in bed. This requires a quick pull down of the covers, flipping the cat off the bed and sending the dog into a barking fit. My face gets flushed as though I have drank one too many bottles of wine and my back is sweating. After flinging the hot water bottle off the bed and flapping the sheets like I am trying to take off, some relief of cool air usually sets in and all goes back to normal.

Four Chilies- This one is red hot and I feel sorry for anyone with in a 50' radius of me. These are brutal and I normally experience these day 3 and 4 after chemo and always in the middle of the night when I am/was sound asleep. This is full out war! To conquer this battle..flip all sheets off the bed...sorry to my poor husband..turn the ceiling fan onto high.

As you know animals usually sense a natural disaster and are gone way before the sheets go flying. Once Arctic temperatures are sufficiently felt, you realize you are soaked completely through your pajamas and then you begin to freeze. You cannot get the fan off and sheets up fast enough. You think about changing the wet pajamas but begin to shiver and try to curl into your husband to steal any heat that maybe remaining on him. Only he moves away as your are ice cold and wet and not to mention ...trying to sleep. You find the semi-warm hot water bottle and sheepishly look at your husband only to have him grab the bottle, grumble and go refresh it. This one takes a good half hour until the rest of the night to recover as does all things surrounding. The cat comes back after an hour or so but treads lightly...the dog decides that his bed is a safer, and a less disturbing option and the husband, as wonderful as he is...is probably thinking about the spare room bed.

When the wrecking ball finds you

I have been tired to the point of exhaustion before but no one can ever prepare you for what it feels like to be the wall on the other side of wrecking ball hurtling at you. Today was the first day I woke up and felt like I didn't need any pain medication, yeah I was on the other side. I felt like I had been couped up for days and even though the weather was not cooperating ..it is winter...I decided that the dog and I needed to go for a walk and get some fresh air.

I bundled myself up with a happy puppy beside me. I think if his tail went in circles any faster he would have taken off. And out the door we went...brrr...ok it issss... winter I remind myself and it was not really that cold, but when you've had a hot water bottle and heating pad on you for four days, -1 seems chilly. The roads were a bit icy and occasionally the dog and I did a little "accidental" Fred Astaire tapping but we got in the swing of things. My poor dog was walking at a much slower pace than he is used to with me <and that is a lot slower than my 6'+ husband walks> and looked as though he was going to take a nap and wait while I caught up. So I pushed ahead and picked up the pace to where is he was trotting along..by the end of our walk I felt like I could crawl in bed and have a nap but no I was going to fight through this. Side note: they do advise to push through a little tiredness.

I get inside and get a glass of water, plan the weeks menu and decide to go to the grocery store. I easily got all of of the items I was looking for within 10 minutes and then remembered ..shit! We need a calendar. I realize it is the 17th of January but YOU have to realize two procrastinators living together is not always the best plan..good intentions..but not the best at getting things done. So after wandering around for 20 minutes and looking at a variety of other items in hopes the calendars would just appear, I decided to ask someone. Maybe choosing a grocery store the size of a football field was my brightest plan either.

She was a middle aged women who was on the heavier side but who knew she had so much get up and go. I sooo should have choose the young guy labelling. She got on her walkie talky and gestured for me to follow her all the way to the back of the store...slow down...I have a cart and aisles to maneuver...then as it turns out where she was told to go was not the case, so all the way to the front of the store..nope not there...by this point I feel like I could crawl in the children's seat in the cart..if only someone would push me.

She looks at me with sympathetic eyes and says..I know where I saw them....only 500' away and 10 aisles to weave through. Sad as it may sound but the calendars could have been Disney ones and I would have bought them..instead my choices were Monet and Outhouses. I thought the clash between the two was funny so I bought one of each. Now to the checkout.

My feet were so slow moving by the time I got out through the checkout that I considered bumping the man out of the courtesy wheelchair and taking over...aiyeeea...but least I made it to the car took a deep breathe..lugged in the groceries and hit the bed....ahhhh so that's what the wrecking ball feels like.

The strange and unusal

As mentioned before my hand swelled a bit with this last round...OK a lot. It seems that this, of all of the things I had, concerned my oncologist the most as he did not like the fact it was on the top side of my hand on the side I had the mastectomy. They (Nurse H and Dr R) kind of freaked me out with thoughts of blood clots and possible a cat scan should it occur again. I am to watch for any swelling in the arm (possible lymphedema beginning) and if my hand swells this time round I am to call them as they may want to give me a water pill first to see if that takes it down. I thought the numb face and loss of taste would raise concerns but nope..the red hand was the kicker.

And believe it or not, I have little hairs beginning to grown on the top of my head..not on the sides only the top. They are not in multitudes but at least there is more than a week ago so maybe this hair growth thing will start earlier than anticipated. I can only hope on this one. It is still too early in their growth to see what colour/texture they are going to be, but so far they look brown which is much better than the possibility of grey...stay tuned on this one. I have also got a long brown curly wig to play to my alter ego..but right now I look like a drag queen with it on so styling is a must...appointment booked with D on Monday.

So I had chemo number 5 yesterday and besides the poke of three times to get the IV in all went smooth. If you don't count the two hours it took to get my drug from pharmacy to the chemo floor by a porter....so my one hour timeline increased to three. So next round, the nurse will just inject and leave me as I had two round of this doxetaxol with no issues so that is the good news. Now if I can only arrange not to be seated next to the women who used her cell phone..soo not allowed in this ward... and recorded a book while I was trying to read. It is hard when the rooms are in constant patient rotation to choose your next door neighbour.

I have been a good girl this time and have been taking my ibuprofen and have added claritin into the mix as well as this seems to help people with the muscle/joint pain...but I will let you know on that one as I don't seem to have this until I have the neulasta..which I just had injected so tomorrow will tell the tale of how well this cockatil worked this time.

I have also been concentrating on drinking lots of cold liquid in hopes of minimizing the swelling and loss of taste this time round, but again...only time will tell on this one. So while I wait I am eating yummy stuff in case I have 4 days of watermelon and smoothies. At least that is my rationale...screw the scale.

Beam me up

The next phase in this lovely process for me is radiation. I went to my consultation appointment with hopes of 3 weeks of radiation but in my mind, I knew that it was probably going to be 5 weeks. I was told to arrive at 10:15am but my appointment was at 10:45am and to expect to be in the appointment for an hour.

There were not may questions I had at this point as I have been thinking after surgery and chemo, radiation has to be the "easy part". After all, all I have to do is lay there, I can do that! So we showed up, grabbed a number, checked in and sat and waited...and waited...and waited. At about 10:45am we were called, again the first time meeting Nurse M and she makes me stand on a scale..seriously...these people are not going out for congeniality awards. She then escorts us to a room in some serious need of an update and asks about my current ailments. I am thinking how much time is this appointment?

I run through the latest issues I have has with this chemo, aching muscles <not joints>, loss of taste, diarrhea, peeling skin and swollen right hand, loss of most of my eyelashes and eyebrows....it's been a daily joy ride. Nurse M has a sense of humor <yeah> and we laugh the whole way through..really at this point it has become a daily laughter on what will happen tomorrow....

She says Dr R will be by in about 15 minutes...45 minutes later in walks Dr R. Who then asks if I have any immediate questions..nope...am I on any medication besides the chemo drugs..nope...ok exam time. Put the Johnny shirt on with ties to the back....everyone wants this thing on a different way.

He checks my neck, and I breathe in and out while he checks my lungs...then does and inspection of my scar as well as my left breast. He asks "are you having reconstruction?"...yes..."hmmm..that changes my approach" ...????

Apparently my wanting reconstruction means he will have to zap me with a lower dose over a longer period. I will have 25 rounds on my chest wall and 16 rounds on my lymphnodes above my chest wall. It will be sessions of 10mins over 5 weeks. This is a large commitment but it takes my risk of recurrence from 20% to 5% and I like those odds...95% of it never coming back sounds much better than 80%.

He seemed a little pensive and then said "You seem very relaxed". I am thinking...what is the appropriate response because I think "Hey man, I have found out I had cancer, had a breast taken off and am going through chemotherapy...I am thinking not much more can phase me"..but reply politely <how strange> with it is what it is....then he turns to B and asks him how he is doing..."fine, I see this stuff all the time in my profession".

On a side note, this doctor started several positive support groups and I think he was disappointed that we were not going to be his latest participants. Don't get me wrong, I think support groups are useful but there are times when I get tired of talking about myself <hard to believe> so the last thing I want to do is hear other stories...let me get through this and then maybe....

Dr R left after he said he would see me back in about a month for a run through and final consultation before the radiation began <4-5 weeks after my last chemo>.

Nurse M returned with a consent form for me to sign explaining that I was aware of the side effects..
-Scarring on the lung <permanent>
-Sun burn <temporary>
-Aching of ribs <temporary>
-Fatigue <temporary>

She handed me some reading material and we were off. I spent more time waiting for something to happen than I did in the actual appointment but I think this is how my radiation is going to go as well.

The Thunder Rolls

My family has never shied away from any conversation, least of all the topic of poop. It never seems to fail that at every dinner someone brings up the topic of poop in some manner. Just once I wish this wasn't the case but I can't control it...which leads me to today's blog.

During this time I felt like my bowels were being controlled by someone else. I was beginning to think an army had taken over my internal workings and were directing the flow. There must have been a renegade General in there as he was pushing everything through..I could just imagine him yelling "Everybody out..move it move it"...'cause that is what was going on. Literally. I would eat and then that was it...to the bathroom I would run. As for the drug running through my system I am sure the General had the lower ranks scrubbing every part of me as half my face was numb. From below my right eye to the bottom of my chin had no feeling. I had sharp pains in my lower abdomen which I wish were from too many sit ups but sooooo not the case.

To add insult to injury I developed a red irritation on a 2" spot on my right hand and a couple of spots on my left which had small blisters on them. My right hand was swollen so I took a couple of ibuprofen to try to get the swelling down and watched as the skin dried out and began to peel...did I mention my face beginning to peel?

After a couple of days my taste buds started to return as I was getting pretty tired of grapes, smoothies, watermelon and tomatoes...but at least I could taste those. It felt like I had pieces of oatmeal in my mouth which I can only imagine were pieces of skin cells sloughing off...yeah me!

The bright side? If I must come up with something I guess I can look at the skin peeling as exfoliation and the fact that I could taste some things was better than not tasting anything. Plus I was able to get in for several massages and have already booked some for after the next chemo....but really....I would rather wallow in my own self pity, bitch about the "guess what happened today" and crawl under the covers and not come out until mid February when this chemo shit <see there I go talking about it> is over...come on February!