Some Days are a Total Waste of Makeup

Nothing went right today.  First, I called the clinic to confirm my appointment with the radiation oncologist. When I made the appointment I learned that there are no radiation oncologists in my insurance network in a 100 mile radius of my city, but I could request permission to go "out of network" to see the doctor at my regular clinic. I still don't understand why that doctor doesn't join the network, but regardless: the insurance company had not yet responded to the request for permission, so my appointment had to be rescheduled for next week.

Next up was the shower. Nothing scary there, right? Yeah, I thought so, too. Until a tile fell off the wall. The wall behind it was mush. Apparently, the grout has been damaged for a while and the drywall behind it was soaking up the shower water like a sponge. There's no easy fix for that. We have to take off all the old tile, replace the drywall with cement board, and put up a new surround. I've been wanting to do something about the ugly faded terracotta tile but the alternatives were cost prohibitive. Right now is not the best time to be raiding the savings account, either. But it's our only shower, so there really is no choice.

Since my mood was pretty much shot, after my shower I put on a fresh pair of jammies (at 1 in the afternoon) and called the bath tub repair places in the area to schedule estimates.  Then I called my mom to make sure we could use her shower until ours is fixed.  Right about then, Walker fessed up to the fact that he really doesn't like the look of our bathroom, so as long as we're having work done he'd like to do a fresh coat of paint and a new shower curtain.  The kicker is, I have to choose the colors.  Sure, honey, I'll get right on that.  I'm not looking forward to it since I chose the current decor, which apparently he hasn't liked since I put everything in five years ago.  I went online and found three options that I loved, but he vetoed all three of them.  I offered to get dressed so we could go to a department store and take a look, but he didn't feel like driving me.  (Officially, I'm not supposed to be driving myself yet, though I'm not taking any meds so I probably could.)  Yep, this is going to be a fun project.

Finally, Walker's work schedule changed.  He now starts working at midnight.  That means he'll be sleeping in the afternoons, so I have to find another driver to take me to my appointments.  I also have to try to be quiet in the afternoons.  I'll need to start getting up earlier to run the dishwasher and blow dry my hair before he goes to bed.  He's been working so much overtime, I'm glad that his company is making changes to give the crew a break, but we're both going to have to make some adjustments.  

How Much is Too Much?

Last Thursday I had my first appointment with an oncologist. I went in thinking I would get a treatment plan, and I had decided to spend the weekend researching the drugs and making a plan of my own for managing the effects my treatment would have on my daily life: how to prevent getting sick while my immune system is compromised from chemo, figuring out how to keep up with the housework if I'm too tired to do it myself, finding what I would wear when my hair falls out, looking for support resources for Walker if this whole thing gets overwhelming for him, dealing with my job....

I didn't get a treatment plan.

Dr N, the oncologist, first went over my treatment options. There are three choices on the buffet: radiation, chemotherapy, and hormone therapy. In my case, there will be a combo meal of at least two, radiation and hormones, but I'm still in the holding tank on the chemo. A test has been developed that looks at 21 factors of a tumor to determine the risk of cancer recurrence. The tissue excised during my quadrectomy is used for this test. The results take one to three weeks to come back. The lower I score, the less likely it is that chemotherapy is warranted.

Some women take the chemo regardless. They want to use every available weapon in their fight and no doubt, chemo is a powerful weapon. Some women absolutely refuse chemo, taking their chances with just the other therapies. And for many, that works out fine.

For me, well, some days I feel like my brain is a puddle of mush, incapable of making a decision. I don't know if it's stress, or fear, or information overload. Right now, without the information from the 21 point test, Dr N rates my risk of recurrence at 30%. Radiation lowers it to about 20%. Hormone therapy will lower it further, as much as down to 10% but more likely somewhere in the 12% range. Now, there is never a 0% chance of recurrence, unless you're dead. Chemo would knock a few more points off that risk rating, but it's pretty hard on your body. Some side effects can be permanent. So I ask myself, how much risk is too much? Is going through chemo worth a 5% drop in risk? What about a 3% drop? Every woman in America has nearly a 13% risk of developing breast cancer in their lifetime. Radiation and hormones put me right about at that same spot. Do I really need to go through chemo?

I'm trying not to form any opinions or make a decision until the test results come back. It's hard, though. For a person like me, who needs an action plan, sitting around waiting is the worst part of this whole thing. I just want to get on with it.

Click here to read a more clinical explanation of the test and treatment options.

Pink Ribbon Controversy?

I came across this article while researching breast cancer. It seems that some people resent the pink ribbon symbol being added to, well, pretty much anything. They aren't thrilled about October being Breast Cancer Awareness Month, either. Some breast cancer patients feel reminded of the disease when they see the ribbon symbol, and patients dealing with other cancers feel the pink ribbon takes attention away from research and fund raising for other cancers.
Well, I guess I can understand their points but to me, money raised for any cancer research is beneficial. What may start out as a breast cancer treatment could end up as a viable treatment for other cancers. Or possibly research done to learn what can cause breast cancer might also help identify causes for other cancers.
Then there's the awareness. Breast cancer is a very treatable disease when it's caught early. I think women need to know about screenings. I'm a reasonably intelligent woman but I put off getting my first mammogram because I didn't think I need it: I had no family history, I did self exams, and I am under 50. Too young for breast cancer. Or so I thought.
As far as the constant reminder to those who have the disease: do you ever really forget? I'm new to all this, and my life is much more than cancer, but I can't say that I ever forgot I was a cancer patient from the first moment I heard the words, "This is cancer. You have cancer." Pink ribbons at the grocery store won't suddenly remind me.
October means a lot of things to me: football games, local festivals, family time, evenings toasting our tootsies around the fire pit, and yes: breast cancer awareness. I'll be wearing my pink bracelets with pride.

This One Time, in Band Class,,,,,

I woke up early this morning. Well, early for me. I have my first oncology appointment today, and as usual, my nerves were in overdrive. It was two hours earlier than I'd planned to get up but I knew I'd never get back to sleep the way my belly was churning. So I got up, took a look out the window. The sky was a brilliant blue back ground for the changing leaves. There was dew on the grass. I opened the window to a refreshingly chilly breeze. And music.

At first I could barely hear it, but within minutes it was as if they were right outside my window. The south side high school marching band was practicing in the street a few blocks away. I realized that there's a parade tonight. How could I forget that? It's my mom's absolute favorite, one she waits for all year. Before I went on the night shift, we would go together.

The marching band went into the school fight song, and it was like I was stepping back in time. I remember every detail: how wonderfully cool the air felt in the mornings, our band director, now retired, standing at the side of the road calling out anyone who wasn't in step. The awful polyester uniforms complete with tall, heavy, tasseled hats and spats. The cute blond boy who marched right in front of me. The young mothers on our practice route bringing their little ones out to watch. The excitement on parade day. In the days leading up to the parade, the band director would have everyone excused from their third period classes so we could practice longer. I used to get so mad - third period for me was study hall. I would much rather have skipped gym.

Listening to them, I started thinking, "If I could go back, knowing what I know now..." but really, what then? Say I did go back and talk to the flute playing freshman that was me. What, exactly, would I tell her? Live the next 27 years in fear because, honey, you will be getting breast cancer? Or how about, forget all your responsibilities and just have fun cause later, you'll have no time to just play? Um, no.

The thing is, even with this damn cancer that fills my mind with unsettling thoughts, wakes me in a cold sweat, and consumes my day with phone calls to insurance companies, doctor visits, and fear, I have a great life. I have a circle of friends who love me and are cheering for me every step of the way. I have a family who looks out for me, making us dinners and helping around the house and sitting in the hospital waiting for me to wake up from surgery so they can help me to the car and take me home. I have coworkers who send me cards and emails letting me know they miss me and are sending prayers. I have no doubt that by the time the snow flies, and my cancer treatment is obvious, I have neighbors who will shovel our driveway and take the garbage cans to the street. I have Walker who has been right at my side for every last step of this journey, despite his insane work schedule and his own fear.

Sure I wish I had never gotten cancer, but it's here, we're handling it, and soon it will be something I look back on, just another memory.

A Little Waterfall

Last week, after we visited the Moving Wall, Walker and I trekked across the park to the Friendship Garden. As soon as you go through the gates you come upon a little pond that houses several water features. This one is my favorite:



Check out other Watery Wednesday photos here

Baby Steps

On the day of my official breast cancer diagnosis, Dr C presented me with a book. I call it my "How to Not End Up Dead from Cancer" manual but that really isn't what it's about. The book presents information and resources for each stage: everything from how to tell your loved ones to treatment options to what to pack for the hospital to dealing with the after effects is detailed in that book. At first, I focused on the surgical options and the chapter on radiation therapy and pretty much ignored the rest. Last weekend, I stopped avoiding and read.

The section on chemotherapy was hard to get through. For one thing, I haven't fully come to terms with it. I feel fantastic ~ it's hard to make myself believe that I need this treatment that will make me sicker than I have ever been in order to get better. How do I get better than fantastic? Mostly, I think I'm just plain scared of the whole thing. I imagine that's normal but it sure doesn't feel good. I had to read a page or two, do something else for awhile, read another page or two, do something else, yada yada yada. I did get through the whole chapter eventually.

One of the things the book advises is a dental checkup, to make sure you don't need any work done during treatment. Chemo wipes out a lot of your natural immune system. Dental work can release all kinds of bacteria into your bloodstream that your body won't have the resources to fight off. So they suggest you go in for a dental check right away and take care of any necessary issues before you start chemo. I figured I could do that now, while I'm still on medical leave.

Well, I called the dentist today but the receptionist I spoke with didn't seem to know anything about having a checkup before chemo. She's been there for years ~ am I really the first client who asked for a pre-chemo checkup? She did make an appointment for me, so I guess I'll see what the dentist has to say when I get there.

Since I was on a roll, I also called my favorite hair salon and made an appointment to get my hair cut. I spoke directly with my stylist. When she heard that I was most likely going to have chemo she told me she's help me come up with a plan to transition to short hair over the next couple weeks. She was very sweet about the whole thing ~ she didn't make me feel silly for not wanting to lose my hair. She also told me that the salon has a private wig studio in their lower level. I've gone there for years and never knew that.

I'm glad I finally read the book. I always feel better when I know what I'm up against. I'm glad I found some things that I can do, now, instead of just sitting here waiting.

I Stand Corrected

Guess I was wrong - you can get "wigs" for eye brows. Who knew?