So, as I mentioned, the day after each infusion I have to take some kind of steroid and also go in for a Neulasta shot to boost my white blood cells. I found out from the benefits specialist that Neulasta costs $9500/dose. I go for 6 rounds of chemo. You can do the math. And that's just the post chemo "booster"! I can't wait to see the statement of benefits for the actual chemo drugs. I want to be quick to say that other than maybe a $20 co-pay, our insurance covers this 100%, but I'm sure this is not the case with everyone's plan, and it makes you wonder what people do. Other than the lack of wig reimbursement, which seems to be an anomaly, we have excellent coverage. I still plan on submitting a claim for my wig, letting them reject me, and then I'll appeal and likely lose, but I think it's important to make the point that the policy is lacking. Squeaky wheel, right?
The nurse confirms that I've taken my steroids and gives me the Neulasta. I tell him about my trip to the plastic surgeon for another injection and how I usually take valium and percocet to get through reconstruction days. No problem he says. Really? I had a huge infusion of toxic chemicals yesterday, 2 steroids, a booster, and valium and percocet are fine to throw in the mix as well? Great. Oh yeah, and if I start to feel any nausea coming on I have two different prescription drugs which I'm now carrying around with me in my purse - just in case. Now I know why old people have problems mixing up their meds!
I get my 60mls of saline injected and as usual I can't feel it while I'm there. My plastic surgeon tells me I only have 20 more mls to fill the expander to capacity - yay! Do I want to do 80ml today, or just come back for another small injection next week? Go ahead, call me a wimp, but I figured first week of chemo I'd try to be as nice to myself as possible. Some days I question my decision to do the mastectomy and reconstruction at the same time. I still think in the end I'll be happy I suffered through them both simultaneously, rather than having to go back for a whole round of reconstructive surgery post-chemo. But other days, (like today) I think it would be kind of nice to just let myself heal and concentrate on getting through the chemo. All I can say, is thank goodness I didn't get the additional 20ml, because I seriously thought I was going to blow up. I really don't want to be on any additional drugs, but I can't imagine getting through these days without at least the valium to ease the stiffness. I went straight to physical therapy after the injection so she could torture me some more, and that was really all I could manage. Honestly day two of chemo and I'm mostly suffering from my reconstruction injection than anything else, so hard to say if I've had any real chemo side effects yet!
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Chemo - Round One
And we're off! So, as someone wisely wrote me, the scariest part of the chemo is the fear leading up to it and not knowing what to expect. So true. I took my pre-chemo day steroids and drank at least the prerequisite 64 oz of water on Sunday, but I was still up pretty much all night worrying about it, and in the end it wasn't as upsetting or depressing as I had imagined. You are basically set up in pods of four with one nurse responsible for each pod. Luckily I was the first person in, so I got to ask my nurse a million questions before anyone else got there. My particular drugs are all fortunately clear in colour, so I was happy not to have to see some red or blue nastiness coming down the iv into me. The nurse said that one blue drug can actually turn the irises of your eyes slightly blue temporarily after treatment - yuk. And, despite the fact that the port still kind of grosses me out, it made the whole IV thing pretty painless. (I'm sure the pound of numbing cream I smeared on it the hour prior had a little something to do with it). Jen - here is a pic of the port/iv system for you! It just plugs right in there.
To be honest, it's actually quite relaxing. It did take 5 1/2 hours for the infusion, but they have wi-fi access, a TV you can watch with headphones, kitchen, guest chairs... The first treatment or "loader dose" is the longest, so my next round should be more like 4 1/2 hours. John came and hung out with me for this first time and was even able to get some work done. As people started filtering in, most just worked on computers, read books, listened to music, or slept. I was so tired from the night before, I slept for about an hour myself. At one point a volunteer even came in with this psychedelic guitar and was serenading each pod. He just travels around the country singing at chemo centers. He said he spent a year "in the chair" himself and just wanted to share the love. He handed out free cd's to everyone and said to download and share with whoever we like. I don't know how he makes any money doing any of this, and apparently he is married with three children under ten, but it's pretty impressive. I got a special song for being a first timer. One old man even got up and was dancing with one of the nurses with his IV pole.
Thanks so much to everyone who sent me encouraging messages throughout the day, including Jacki's "chemo angels". My new e-pal Jacki asked her friends to send me some words of wisdom, so I received little notes of inspiration and helpful hints from her network of friends across the U.S. as well. I am feeling very humbled by everyone's kindness I must say. I had so many messages I'm still catching up on emails, because of course, as soon as we got home, collected the kids, and ate dinner I was off to a class at Life with Cancer called Look Good, Feel Better. It just so happened that their course offering for this month was my first day of chemo, but I figured I'd better get in there because the next one wasn't for another month and I'd already be hairless and hideous well before that.
It was actually a really helpful class. In addition to a free bag of make-up, a trained make-up artist gave us tips on how to highlight your eye lids when you lose your lashes and pencil on eye brows, and basically best accentuate your features when you look/feel less than stellar. She kept mentioning that she worked for Bobbi Brown (I later discovered this was not the the Bobby Brown I was envisioning in parachute pants singing My Prerogative) so I was a little confused by her choice of endorsement for a while. Anyway, I don't wear much make-up, and sunscreen and chapstick apparently don't count, (trust me, my sister has been trying to turn me into a girl for years) so I definitely found it useful.
And that was my first day of chemo. Other than the fatigue from lack of sleep the night before, I really didn't really feel any different than when I arrived. I keep hearing that you start feeling more of the side effects around day 3, so again more anxiety about what's to come. Tomorrow may still be a bit of a rough day though I would expect. I have to go in for what's called a Neulasta shot in the morning to boost my white blood cells and help out my immune system while the chemicals in my body are killing everything. Because it basically works its way through your bone marrow, it can cause bone aches in some people. I also have another injection with my plastic surgeon in the afternoon, followed by a physical therapy session. There's really not much time for convalescing in this whole process is there?!
To be honest, it's actually quite relaxing. It did take 5 1/2 hours for the infusion, but they have wi-fi access, a TV you can watch with headphones, kitchen, guest chairs... The first treatment or "loader dose" is the longest, so my next round should be more like 4 1/2 hours. John came and hung out with me for this first time and was even able to get some work done. As people started filtering in, most just worked on computers, read books, listened to music, or slept. I was so tired from the night before, I slept for about an hour myself. At one point a volunteer even came in with this psychedelic guitar and was serenading each pod. He just travels around the country singing at chemo centers. He said he spent a year "in the chair" himself and just wanted to share the love. He handed out free cd's to everyone and said to download and share with whoever we like. I don't know how he makes any money doing any of this, and apparently he is married with three children under ten, but it's pretty impressive. I got a special song for being a first timer. One old man even got up and was dancing with one of the nurses with his IV pole.
Thanks so much to everyone who sent me encouraging messages throughout the day, including Jacki's "chemo angels". My new e-pal Jacki asked her friends to send me some words of wisdom, so I received little notes of inspiration and helpful hints from her network of friends across the U.S. as well. I am feeling very humbled by everyone's kindness I must say. I had so many messages I'm still catching up on emails, because of course, as soon as we got home, collected the kids, and ate dinner I was off to a class at Life with Cancer called Look Good, Feel Better. It just so happened that their course offering for this month was my first day of chemo, but I figured I'd better get in there because the next one wasn't for another month and I'd already be hairless and hideous well before that.
It was actually a really helpful class. In addition to a free bag of make-up, a trained make-up artist gave us tips on how to highlight your eye lids when you lose your lashes and pencil on eye brows, and basically best accentuate your features when you look/feel less than stellar. She kept mentioning that she worked for Bobbi Brown (I later discovered this was not the the Bobby Brown I was envisioning in parachute pants singing My Prerogative) so I was a little confused by her choice of endorsement for a while. Anyway, I don't wear much make-up, and sunscreen and chapstick apparently don't count, (trust me, my sister has been trying to turn me into a girl for years) so I definitely found it useful.
And that was my first day of chemo. Other than the fatigue from lack of sleep the night before, I really didn't really feel any different than when I arrived. I keep hearing that you start feeling more of the side effects around day 3, so again more anxiety about what's to come. Tomorrow may still be a bit of a rough day though I would expect. I have to go in for what's called a Neulasta shot in the morning to boost my white blood cells and help out my immune system while the chemicals in my body are killing everything. Because it basically works its way through your bone marrow, it can cause bone aches in some people. I also have another injection with my plastic surgeon in the afternoon, followed by a physical therapy session. There's really not much time for convalescing in this whole process is there?!
Friday, February 24, 2012
Crazy Coworkers & Other Amazing People
It's official, my work colleagues have completely lost their minds. My buddy loaded this giant "get ready for chemo" basket into my trunk today and the thing is incredible. You'd think they've been set up on a street corner in DC somewhere collecting funds for months with all the goodies in there. I'm not joking. And I can tell that every item in there was thought about with a lot of love and attention to what people would need/want for chemo, such as pajamas, slippers, a super plush bathrobe and throw, a breakfast tray (for all those meals John is going to serve me in bed), a special cap to wear at night that collects my hair as it starts to fall out, moisturizing shea butter butter socks, an Amazon gift card to fill up my Kindle with lots of reading material for infusions, and last but not least, a Nordstrom gift card for any other last minute items I might need. But wait, that's only the cancer part. In addition, they also included some of my favourite feel good things in general, like decaf teas and coffee with an eco travel mug to drink them in, three different kinds of chocolate, a package of ginger scone mix, and a bottle of wine (do they know me, or what?). One of our interns, who also happens to be a very talented artist, also designed a card for me which everyone signed. I am ridiculously inept at expressing my gratitude, but I am amazingly lucky to work in an environment with such caring and thoughtful people.
I've already mentioned all the wonderful food I am getting from my neighbours on a scheduled basis, as well as a special delivery of Canadian nanaimoes and butter tarts (and more food) arranged by my longtime Winnipeg gal pals. Don't get me wrong, I love the swag, but what makes me all verklempt are all the good wishes and thoughts behind all this. I love that I've reconnected with far away friends, made some new ones, appreciate the encouraging emails, comments on this blog, and the fact that any of you are following my story at all! I was approached once again by a complete stranger with a generous offer to send me a beautiful complimentary head scarf for chemo. Stacey reached out to me via this blog this week and told me about her work as a Good Wishes Ambassador in memory of her friend, and mother of three, who passed away from Triple Negative Breast Cancer last year. It's people like this that I find so inspiring. It's this amazing invisible network of goodwill you never knew existed. I sincerely hope that when I make it through chemo (and beyond) that I will figure out a way to volunteer, give back, or pay forward all this good karma I've received.
I'm getting a little ahead of myself, considering I'll still be in treatment, but I'd really like to be involved somehow with the D.C. edition of the Komen Race for the Cure on June 2nd. Being part of a team (even if I have to walk), volunteering, raising funds, something. One of my work colleagues attended a planning meeting for the event recently and brought me back a t-shirt. She got a white one, but was told by the organizers that I needed to have a pink one. Love how I'm being considered a "Survivor" already, only 2 months in. It made me smile.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
More Appointments
I had to take the day off today to fit in my four appointments. First stop - my breast surgeon. She basically said everything looked like it was healing well, and that I don't need to see her again for six months. I had a few more questions to ask about my post surgery pathology report which we hadn't discussed in the first post-op visit. Her answers left me a little unsettled, but I'm starting to get used to that. I don't feel like I'm going to die any minute like I did when originally diagnosed, but I have this feeling that I'm going to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life, waiting for something to rear its ugly head. I repeat, I'm super happy that I'm only stage 1. It means my tumours were small and there was no lymph node involvement. The negative parts to the diagnosis are that my specimens were grade 3 which means they are fast growing. My Ki-67 test, which shows how fast the cancer is growing, also confirmed this with a score of 34% which is considered "high". I also found out that lymph-vascular invasion was found locally in the breast tissue during surgery. What that means is that cancer was found in the blood vessels and lymph channels in the area they took out. Luckily it did not spread to my lymph nodes and makes me feel like the full mastectomy was indeed the best choice for me. But, it doesn't necessarily answer the question about the vascular invasion (blood vessels) which is part of the reason I have to have chemo to make sure they kill everything that could be floating around in there. The reason for the targeted hormone therapy in addition to the chemo, is my HER2 status, which is positive. HER2 + breast cancers tend to grow faster and are more likely to spread or come back as compared to HER2- cancers. But, HER2+ breast cancers respond very well to a drug called Herceptin which is a fairly new drug, but apparently has had amazing results in clinical trials. So, a little more focus on the negatives this time, but it actually makes me want to get on with the chemo that much quicker and continue the war.
My second appointment was fairly uneventful. You may recall I had to spend an extra night in the hospital because I couldn't void my bladder completely. The urologist checked me again and this time there was nothing remaining in there so he deduced that it was all the post surgical drugs making my bladder "sleepy". He told me to have a nice life, ensured me that I did not have cancer of the bladder, and I was on my way.
Appointment number three was my post-op medi-port check. The nurse thought is was healing really quickly and she peeled off all the surgical glue/dissolvable stitches which actually made it feel more comfortable. I think it looks like ass, but she said because I'm fair that it's going to be "colourful" for awhile and because I'm a little bony, it's going to stick out on me a little more and be more obvious. It's also still tender, but apparently that is normal as well so I was getting no sympathy from the port lady. In fact, she told me some people have been known to get their port inserted and then use it for chemo the next day. The whole thing grosses me out so I try not to even picture it.
My last appointment of the day was physiotherapy. My physiotherapist at Vienna Physiotherapy Associates is super nice, and to tell the truth I don't mind going there at all. Sure it's sometimes difficult to do the exercises because my arm is so tight, but they let you lie there on the table with a hot pack, massage my arm and shoulder blade, stretch out my arm and allow me time to do the actual exercises that I never seem to have the time to do at home. Then it's back on the table for more rest and an icepack. Compared to my life of late, it's like a trip to the spa.
My second appointment was fairly uneventful. You may recall I had to spend an extra night in the hospital because I couldn't void my bladder completely. The urologist checked me again and this time there was nothing remaining in there so he deduced that it was all the post surgical drugs making my bladder "sleepy". He told me to have a nice life, ensured me that I did not have cancer of the bladder, and I was on my way.
Appointment number three was my post-op medi-port check. The nurse thought is was healing really quickly and she peeled off all the surgical glue/dissolvable stitches which actually made it feel more comfortable. I think it looks like ass, but she said because I'm fair that it's going to be "colourful" for awhile and because I'm a little bony, it's going to stick out on me a little more and be more obvious. It's also still tender, but apparently that is normal as well so I was getting no sympathy from the port lady. In fact, she told me some people have been known to get their port inserted and then use it for chemo the next day. The whole thing grosses me out so I try not to even picture it.
My last appointment of the day was physiotherapy. My physiotherapist at Vienna Physiotherapy Associates is super nice, and to tell the truth I don't mind going there at all. Sure it's sometimes difficult to do the exercises because my arm is so tight, but they let you lie there on the table with a hot pack, massage my arm and shoulder blade, stretch out my arm and allow me time to do the actual exercises that I never seem to have the time to do at home. Then it's back on the table for more rest and an icepack. Compared to my life of late, it's like a trip to the spa.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Back to work
Well, as I mentioned, the original plan was to start chemo this week, but the holiday made it hard to find a free slot, so I decided to go back into work for a few days instead. I don't know if I've shared this already, but my employer doesn't have any short-term disability. You can use your banked sick and vacation days, but unfortunately I used up pretty much all my accumulated sick days during my two maternity leaves because I figured - when will I ever need these? Use them or lose them! Well, this is hardly something I anticipated, so I gambled and lost mine. Not that I feel the least bit sorry for spending more time with my kids as infants, but maybe I might have saved a few more sick days had I the gift of foresight. I have about 9 days of vacation left, which I'm going to run through pretty quickly, particularly if chemo goes poorly, but keep your fingers crossed. From now on my employer is allowing me to work as much as I'm able, and I just record my hours on time sheets instead of getting my regular salary. This is great for having the luxury and job security of taking time when I need it, but not so great in the sense that I don't get paid on the days I don't work! In my mind right now, the plan I'm hoping to go with is to take the week of chemo off, go back to work for two weeks, repeat. If I feel better than I anticipate during the chemo week, maybe I can work from home a few days, but it's just going to be a play it by ear kind of situation. Luckily my work colleagues are awesome and very supportive.
Anyway, I actually enjoyed being at work this week. 3 days was perfect. The only problem was the fatigue. This was the first week I didn't have an hour nap over the lunch hour! I usually take a valium in the morning to manage my stiffness, but they do make me very drowsy. Tuesday I was completely beat by the time I got home. Wednesday I skipped the valium and just took Ibuprofen, but it didn't seem to make much difference. I fell asleep on the couch at 7:30pm and apparently it took John four different times to wake me up and encourage me into bed. I actually brought a blanket and little pillow into work thinking I might take a nap under my desk during lunch time, but I never did. Any Seinfeld watchers out there? Remember that episode where George sets up his office under his desk, takes calls from under there, and basically lounges around and sleeps? Maybe I need to think about this a little more...
Anyway, I actually enjoyed being at work this week. 3 days was perfect. The only problem was the fatigue. This was the first week I didn't have an hour nap over the lunch hour! I usually take a valium in the morning to manage my stiffness, but they do make me very drowsy. Tuesday I was completely beat by the time I got home. Wednesday I skipped the valium and just took Ibuprofen, but it didn't seem to make much difference. I fell asleep on the couch at 7:30pm and apparently it took John four different times to wake me up and encourage me into bed. I actually brought a blanket and little pillow into work thinking I might take a nap under my desk during lunch time, but I never did. Any Seinfeld watchers out there? Remember that episode where George sets up his office under his desk, takes calls from under there, and basically lounges around and sleeps? Maybe I need to think about this a little more...
Monday, February 20, 2012
Normal Weekend?
So the bandages are off the port now and you can have a sense of what it looks like. It's about two inches below my collar bone. Right now it's still clearly bruised, and I think the shininess is from the fancy sutures they have on there that will eventually dissolve on their own, but once the tenderness and lovely shade of yellow begin to fade, I don't think it will be that big of a deal. (Don't worry, I won't be showing you the other side)!
Today was a holiday, but I couldn't resist the temptation to visit with my plastic surgeon and have another 60cc's of saline pumped in. I actually snuck a peek at the needle today, and that thing is huge! This time I was smart and pre-medicated, so it wasn't all that bad, but I find it gets worse as the day goes on. If I didn't know what it was, I would think I was having a heart attack. Your chest gets super tight, and then it starts to move down into my lower back and arm. Valium is my best friend today. My next one is the second day of chemo - that should be fun!
Other than that we steered clear of cancer related activities and tried to have a semi-normal long weekend. I am still kind of obsessed with trying to get everything organized and in place before chemo. We got the boys haircuts, I re-organized the baby's drawers so all the clothes in there actually fit, I want to buy a million diapers and wipes in bulk, and then I decided we all needed to go to the open gym at the Loudoun Sports Bounce so I could see if C would like to have his birthday party there in April. (You can never book too early)! I clearly am not going to be inviting a gaggle of four year olds over to my house, planning fun crafty activities and baking a fondant Batman themed cake this year, so it's definitely the low maintenance party route for us. And really, it's what he wants anyway! I may be popping anti-nausea meds and sporting a chic head scarf, but I will be doing it sitting on a bench while C runs around with his buddies and the staff does all the work...
Today was a holiday, but I couldn't resist the temptation to visit with my plastic surgeon and have another 60cc's of saline pumped in. I actually snuck a peek at the needle today, and that thing is huge! This time I was smart and pre-medicated, so it wasn't all that bad, but I find it gets worse as the day goes on. If I didn't know what it was, I would think I was having a heart attack. Your chest gets super tight, and then it starts to move down into my lower back and arm. Valium is my best friend today. My next one is the second day of chemo - that should be fun!
Other than that we steered clear of cancer related activities and tried to have a semi-normal long weekend. I am still kind of obsessed with trying to get everything organized and in place before chemo. We got the boys haircuts, I re-organized the baby's drawers so all the clothes in there actually fit, I want to buy a million diapers and wipes in bulk, and then I decided we all needed to go to the open gym at the Loudoun Sports Bounce so I could see if C would like to have his birthday party there in April. (You can never book too early)! I clearly am not going to be inviting a gaggle of four year olds over to my house, planning fun crafty activities and baking a fondant Batman themed cake this year, so it's definitely the low maintenance party route for us. And really, it's what he wants anyway! I may be popping anti-nausea meds and sporting a chic head scarf, but I will be doing it sitting on a bench while C runs around with his buddies and the staff does all the work...
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| Sports Bounce |
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| Fresh Haircuts |
Friday, February 17, 2012
A Wig and A Tea
Well, I finally did it. Bought the stupid wig this morning. I named it Lise, and it will stare down at me from atop her little stand on my dresser, each night before I go to bed. The sales lady was wonderful, but I felt like I was on an episode of "Say Yes to the Dress" and she was waiting for me to have this teary moment where I just knew this was the one. In the end I chose one that is a little darker than my regular colour, although when we went outside it did seem a lot lighter. From what I've read, your new chemo hair often comes in a little darker, and often a different texture, or curly if you had previously straight hair - hello)! Maybe this darker colour wig will help ease the transition. I actually think it looks red in certain lights. The thing I need to get over is that everyone who knows me will know it's a wig - duh. There's no getting around that. It will be a different colour, and my hair will be about twice as thick. But, if I met someone for the first time, I honestly don't think they would know it's a wig. Unless of course it blows off on a windy day, that would be troublesome.
And, when I arrived home from the wig store my underhair had arrived in the mail from Jacki, so now I also have an option for covering up my melon with a hat! Very happy. I think it will look splendid with a Winnipeg Jets cap.
After a quick nap, mom and I headed over to my friend Nicole's house who was hosting a little tea in my honour with a bunch of the neighbourhood ladies. It was super sweet. We sat around chatting, drinking tea, eating yummy snacks and just catching up with each other. Many of them hadn't seen me in person since my surgery so it was nice to visit with everyone again and just get out of the house and do something social.
After a quick nap, mom and I headed over to my friend Nicole's house who was hosting a little tea in my honour with a bunch of the neighbourhood ladies. It was super sweet. We sat around chatting, drinking tea, eating yummy snacks and just catching up with each other. Many of them hadn't seen me in person since my surgery so it was nice to visit with everyone again and just get out of the house and do something social.
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| Me & Mom |
Thursday, February 16, 2012
A Port and Crazy Hair
Well, my mediport is in. It's on the left (non-mastectomy) side, so now I'm feeling tender on both sides - fabulous! I'm actually finding the spot where the port was inserted is less tender than the small incision they made at the base of my neck where the catheter was inserted into the vein. I have to keep it covered and can't shower for 36 hours, then I remove the dressings and apparently the stitches dissolve on their own and I'm good. The whole point of this is to provide a less intrusive way to administer chemo, so I don't have to undergo a million needle pricks over the course of the year. I can't show you how it looks right now as it's still covered, but it's raised up from the skin more than I imagined. It was described to me as feeling like a nickel under the skin, but right now it looks more like a grape! Maybe it's just the swelling? We'll see. I also had my first physical therapy class yesterday, and it's left me a little stiff so I'm a bit of a physical wreck today.
I basically passed out as soon as we got home from the mediport procedure. We then headed over to the American Cancer Society in the late afternoon to check out my free wig options. This is a very kind service from people who have donated wigs, but it actually left me very depressed. I basically had two choices that even remotely worked for someone under 60, and they still screamed wig. I can't imagine wearing them out in public, let alone to work. They just may be staying with the ACS for the next recipient. Remember those barbie-like blond heads when we were kids that came on a pink stand and you could style their hair? I used to love that thing! I'm like a ridiculous human version here:
Red head anyone?
Oh, and other than the surgery and the bad hair day, we also got confirmation today that we will get absolutely no insurance coverage for the cost of a wig. According to almost everyone you speak with the majority of insurance companies will cover the cost of a wig as long as you have a prescription from your oncologist (which I do). The benefits coordinator at my oncologist's office was so shocked that she offered to call herself to confirm for me - still a no go. And its not like we have lousy insurance, it's actually very good. But, on this one point, Anthem BCBS of CA - you suck it.
I basically passed out as soon as we got home from the mediport procedure. We then headed over to the American Cancer Society in the late afternoon to check out my free wig options. This is a very kind service from people who have donated wigs, but it actually left me very depressed. I basically had two choices that even remotely worked for someone under 60, and they still screamed wig. I can't imagine wearing them out in public, let alone to work. They just may be staying with the ACS for the next recipient. Remember those barbie-like blond heads when we were kids that came on a pink stand and you could style their hair? I used to love that thing! I'm like a ridiculous human version here:
Oh, and other than the surgery and the bad hair day, we also got confirmation today that we will get absolutely no insurance coverage for the cost of a wig. According to almost everyone you speak with the majority of insurance companies will cover the cost of a wig as long as you have a prescription from your oncologist (which I do). The benefits coordinator at my oncologist's office was so shocked that she offered to call herself to confirm for me - still a no go. And its not like we have lousy insurance, it's actually very good. But, on this one point, Anthem BCBS of CA - you suck it.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Valentine's Day
John, being the romantic that he is, stayed home from work today. We started our enchanting day in a two hour chemo prep class, followed up by a trip to the plastic surgeon, and finally a wig consultation. I mean how romantic can you get?!
I actually found the chemo class to be very useful in some respects. There were a lot of little things I didn't know, like I can't get a regular dental cleaning during chemo, I have to start using toothpaste for sensitive teeth like Sensodyne, I shouldn't be the one to clean up after the dog (finally a perk!), and my nails may turn a dark colour. The bad part about the class is that they are also obligated to tell you every possible negative side effect, even if very few people will experience them. Some people are all "knowledge is power" and they want to know everything. I'm more of a store that in a binder on the shelf in case I need it kind of gal. It's like all those books on childbirth. I finally forced myself to read the chapter on delivery, which I had successfully avoided for nine months, basically the day before I gave birth because sometimes all that stuff just freaks you out more. Besides, isn't that what the doctor is there for? Anyway, the facilitator was excellent, we did take away lots of information, and even a couple of coupons!
My trip to the plastic surgeon - not as fun. Today was my first saline injection into the expander. He injected 60cc's (same as MLs I think). I didn't feel the needle go in at all, but I could feel the saline getting forced in. It wasn't uncomfortable, just a strange sensation. Great, I thought, this is going to be easy. We made our appointment for the second injection a week later and off we went. By the time we got out to the parking lot I was already starting to feel it. Owwww! It's like something stretching your skin from the inside. No, correction, it IS something stretching your skin from the inside. Think Sigourney Weaver in Alien. Let's just say, even with the valium and the percocet, it was a difficult night. Maybe I need to reconsider this whole reconstruction thing. Do they really need to match? Maybe a "little sister" would be just fine. An added sock for special occasions? Food for thought.
Which brings me to the last dreamy stop on our Valentine's tour - the wig shop. As I mentioned in my last post my new friend Jackie is lending me her "underhair" which is kind of like a skull cap with hair attached to it that you can use with any hat. I think this is going to be great for around the house, running errands and everyday stuff because you can just wear it with a ball cap or a sun hat and who will know? I also think it will be tons cooler than a full wig in the summer. That being said, I think I'm still going to need a full wig for work, hence my first consult at this wig store, which I didn't know existed but is about 5 minutes from my house. The woman was fantastic and has actually been wearing wigs since she was 15 years old. I would never have guessed that she was wearing a wig. We tried a couple on, but most of the ones she had were brunette so they made it that much more difficult to try to think about it looking "natural", particularly at the hairline. The other thing is that I have very thin hair so all these wigs feel strange to me because I'm getting about twice the volume of hair! Albeit thick, here's one I thought the cut and length were cute (obviously she would try to match my natural hair colour as much as possible). I actually think I look like my sister Jennifer in this one:
This one is hysterical. She was trying to match colour at this point, and kept telling me to ignore the style, but all I could think of was Dana Carvey in Wayne's World:
Anyway, this was my first trial, but I can't procrastinate too long as my hair should fall out about 2 weeks into chemo so I've got 3, maybe 4 weeks? The store owner had a new shipment of wigs scheduled to arrive soon that she thought might suit me so I am heading back in on Friday morning. I also have an appointment with the American Cancer Society tomorrow which apparently gives out one free wig to all patients undergoing chemotherapy. I have a feeling that the free wigs will be a little Halloweeney but it's still pretty amazing that they offer the service. To give you an idea, the prices of the wigs I was looking at were nearly $500 and that was for synthetic hair. I can't imagine what the human hair ones cost.
Tomorrow is also the operation for my port which I'm a little nervous about, but I guess I should be used to this by now. It's more the idea of having a quarter-sized disc tapped into my vein under my skin for a year that freaks me out.
I actually found the chemo class to be very useful in some respects. There were a lot of little things I didn't know, like I can't get a regular dental cleaning during chemo, I have to start using toothpaste for sensitive teeth like Sensodyne, I shouldn't be the one to clean up after the dog (finally a perk!), and my nails may turn a dark colour. The bad part about the class is that they are also obligated to tell you every possible negative side effect, even if very few people will experience them. Some people are all "knowledge is power" and they want to know everything. I'm more of a store that in a binder on the shelf in case I need it kind of gal. It's like all those books on childbirth. I finally forced myself to read the chapter on delivery, which I had successfully avoided for nine months, basically the day before I gave birth because sometimes all that stuff just freaks you out more. Besides, isn't that what the doctor is there for? Anyway, the facilitator was excellent, we did take away lots of information, and even a couple of coupons!
My trip to the plastic surgeon - not as fun. Today was my first saline injection into the expander. He injected 60cc's (same as MLs I think). I didn't feel the needle go in at all, but I could feel the saline getting forced in. It wasn't uncomfortable, just a strange sensation. Great, I thought, this is going to be easy. We made our appointment for the second injection a week later and off we went. By the time we got out to the parking lot I was already starting to feel it. Owwww! It's like something stretching your skin from the inside. No, correction, it IS something stretching your skin from the inside. Think Sigourney Weaver in Alien. Let's just say, even with the valium and the percocet, it was a difficult night. Maybe I need to reconsider this whole reconstruction thing. Do they really need to match? Maybe a "little sister" would be just fine. An added sock for special occasions? Food for thought.
Which brings me to the last dreamy stop on our Valentine's tour - the wig shop. As I mentioned in my last post my new friend Jackie is lending me her "underhair" which is kind of like a skull cap with hair attached to it that you can use with any hat. I think this is going to be great for around the house, running errands and everyday stuff because you can just wear it with a ball cap or a sun hat and who will know? I also think it will be tons cooler than a full wig in the summer. That being said, I think I'm still going to need a full wig for work, hence my first consult at this wig store, which I didn't know existed but is about 5 minutes from my house. The woman was fantastic and has actually been wearing wigs since she was 15 years old. I would never have guessed that she was wearing a wig. We tried a couple on, but most of the ones she had were brunette so they made it that much more difficult to try to think about it looking "natural", particularly at the hairline. The other thing is that I have very thin hair so all these wigs feel strange to me because I'm getting about twice the volume of hair! Albeit thick, here's one I thought the cut and length were cute (obviously she would try to match my natural hair colour as much as possible). I actually think I look like my sister Jennifer in this one:
This one is hysterical. She was trying to match colour at this point, and kept telling me to ignore the style, but all I could think of was Dana Carvey in Wayne's World:
Anyway, this was my first trial, but I can't procrastinate too long as my hair should fall out about 2 weeks into chemo so I've got 3, maybe 4 weeks? The store owner had a new shipment of wigs scheduled to arrive soon that she thought might suit me so I am heading back in on Friday morning. I also have an appointment with the American Cancer Society tomorrow which apparently gives out one free wig to all patients undergoing chemotherapy. I have a feeling that the free wigs will be a little Halloweeney but it's still pretty amazing that they offer the service. To give you an idea, the prices of the wigs I was looking at were nearly $500 and that was for synthetic hair. I can't imagine what the human hair ones cost.
Tomorrow is also the operation for my port which I'm a little nervous about, but I guess I should be used to this by now. It's more the idea of having a quarter-sized disc tapped into my vein under my skin for a year that freaks me out.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Paying It Forward
As I've mentioned a million times, I am completely amazed and humbled truly, by the support and generosity of everyone following this crazy story. From the motivating emails, to the treats that seem to show up almost daily on my doorstep, to the babysitting offers, to my work colleagues picking up my slack and never complaining, to my mother who has done everything around the house for three weeks, to the "tea" my neighbourhood is organizing for me, the list goes on and on. Despite all this, or in addition to it, I have to tell you I actually sat at my desk and cried reading an email from a perfect (and lovely) stranger in Florida today who is offering to lend me her hair. Well, not her actual hair, but I'll let you read about it because I cannot put it any more eloquently than Jacki has done here. All I need now is for my fashionable friends to send me links to cute hats, because well, you know me.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Radioactive Woman
Before
I begin, just a quick note to say that my second drain came out yesterday - yay! No more tubes, fluids, or fanny
packs!
So, I have been given a laundry list of to-do's before stating chemo. Today was the MUGA scan. Apparently some of the chemo drugs can cause damage to your heart and its ability to pump blood properly. Before chemo starts, they take some baseline images so that they can monitor any changes throughout treatment. It's like an x-ray or MRI I guess. A radioactive material called a tracer was injected into my vein which binds to the red blood cells and makes it easier to see how blood moved through my heart. I had to lay on a table and they took about three pictures, and that was about it. One of my least invasive procedures! Cake. As I was getting up to leave, I asked the nuclear technician if there were any side effects I needed to worry about from the stuff that was injected into me or from the procedure itself.
"Well, if you have children I'd like you to stay at least three feet away from them for 24 hours. No holding or cuddling the baby, no hugging. Since children haven't had a lot of exposure to radiation, we like to limit contact as much as possible. I'm not as concerned about adults. Your husband can sleep in the same bed with you, but I wouldn't recommend cuddling, or spooning for tonight."
So, I have been given a laundry list of to-do's before stating chemo. Today was the MUGA scan. Apparently some of the chemo drugs can cause damage to your heart and its ability to pump blood properly. Before chemo starts, they take some baseline images so that they can monitor any changes throughout treatment. It's like an x-ray or MRI I guess. A radioactive material called a tracer was injected into my vein which binds to the red blood cells and makes it easier to see how blood moved through my heart. I had to lay on a table and they took about three pictures, and that was about it. One of my least invasive procedures! Cake. As I was getting up to leave, I asked the nuclear technician if there were any side effects I needed to worry about from the stuff that was injected into me or from the procedure itself.
"Well, if you have children I'd like you to stay at least three feet away from them for 24 hours. No holding or cuddling the baby, no hugging. Since children haven't had a lot of exposure to radiation, we like to limit contact as much as possible. I'm not as concerned about adults. Your husband can sleep in the same bed with you, but I wouldn't recommend cuddling, or spooning for tonight."
I don't know, that might be something I'd share with patients before they come in? I'm sure it's overly cautious, but still! Here's the message I left for John: "Umm, Houston, we have a bit of a problem. Seems like I'm going to be radioactive for a day. If the bed is glowing when you come in tonight, you might want to think about sleeping on the couch. Love you, bye!"
Had to be a little more creative with C: "Hey Buddy. You know what I did today? I had this really funny test and now I can't touch anybody and nobody can touch me! Isn't that funny? I have to stay in my room and I can't touch anyone until tomorrow morning! I think I hear Grandma watching Bob the Builder - go check it out!"
The first thing the baby does when he sees me at the end of the day is speed crawl over to me, pull himself up my pant leg and start whining piteously, "Mama, Mama, Mama," until I pick him up. Good thing Grandma is around.
In the end, it was actually pretty funny. John, of course, milked it for all it was worth and said he'd have to pass my food under the bedroom door so as to not risk contamination. I had dinner on a tv tray in my room with my laptop, and C waved at me under the door. I came out of solitary when the kids were in bed at 7:30pm and made sure to give John a big hug.
C came into our room the next morning and asked if the test was over now and if he was allowed to give me a hug. How's that for cute?
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Pathology Report
Today we had the post-op with the breast surgeon. The main reason for this visit was to go over the pathology report which finally tells you the stage of your breast cancer. Because none of my tumours measured over 2 cms and there was no lymph node involvement, I am Stage 1. (The stages run from 0-4, but I knew even before surgery with invasive ductal carcinoma that I would be at least a 1. If you're really interested in how staging works, read more here). This is really the best outcome we could have anticipated. I found out that my largest tumour was 1.1cm, and that my genetic testing for the BRCA gene also came back negative, so I don't have the genetic mutation that would increase my risk of a reoccurrence. I like having stats to back up all the medical madness that I'm undergoing, but I don't necessarily find them all that reassuring. According to the American Cancer Society, women with Stage 1 cancer have an 88% survival rate. Sounds good right? But that's a five year survival rate. Five years?! What the hell is that?! I told my surgeon I was less than impressed with the numbers, but she did say that if cancer comes back it mostly does so within two to five years which is why the five year mark is such an important anniversary for survivors. Okay, that makes me feel slightly better, but I think some longer studies would help some of us younger gals feel a little more hopeful. If anyone has more upbeat numbers or suggestions for resources, please feel free to share. Other than a follow-up visit in two weeks and a script to start physical therapy for my arm, I think my surgeon's role in all this is pretty much done. What? Breaking up already? It's amazing that so much has already happened in a few short weeks.
The rest of the afternoon we spent at my oncologist's office getting geared up for chemo. In my last post on this topic I explained that I am ER+ (estrogen receptive), PR+ (progesterone receptive), and HER2+ which basically opens up targeted treatment options. I will be taking 3 chemo drugs - Taxotere, Carboplatin, and Herceptin (TCH) once every 3 weeks for 6 cycles (about 4 1/2 months) and then I will continue taking the Herceptin alone to complete one year, and another drug Tamoxifen by mouth for five years. It seems most people feel lousy their first week of chemo and then the following two weeks aren't that bad (whatever that means). I hope that is the case because I'd like to keep working on those days when I'm feeling "good". The original plan was to start chemo on Feb. 21st but with the 20th being a holiday, treatments are all backed up and it ended up being a hard week to find an opening. Instead, I will get an extra week for the mastectomy to heal, and I will begin my first round of chemo on February 27th. The delay is probably not a bad thing considering I have to get blood work done, a heart scan, pick up drugs to offset the chemo drugs, have a port inserted into my chest for infusions, and take a chemo prep class. My calendar has never been so busy --too bad it's not anything fun!
The rest of the afternoon we spent at my oncologist's office getting geared up for chemo. In my last post on this topic I explained that I am ER+ (estrogen receptive), PR+ (progesterone receptive), and HER2+ which basically opens up targeted treatment options. I will be taking 3 chemo drugs - Taxotere, Carboplatin, and Herceptin (TCH) once every 3 weeks for 6 cycles (about 4 1/2 months) and then I will continue taking the Herceptin alone to complete one year, and another drug Tamoxifen by mouth for five years. It seems most people feel lousy their first week of chemo and then the following two weeks aren't that bad (whatever that means). I hope that is the case because I'd like to keep working on those days when I'm feeling "good". The original plan was to start chemo on Feb. 21st but with the 20th being a holiday, treatments are all backed up and it ended up being a hard week to find an opening. Instead, I will get an extra week for the mastectomy to heal, and I will begin my first round of chemo on February 27th. The delay is probably not a bad thing considering I have to get blood work done, a heart scan, pick up drugs to offset the chemo drugs, have a port inserted into my chest for infusions, and take a chemo prep class. My calendar has never been so busy --too bad it's not anything fun!
Monday, February 6, 2012
Drains
So far my recovery from surgery has been fairly smooth. I'm actually in less pain than I imagined, and when my right side starts to feel stiff or painful I have percocet and valium to keep things under control. The meds, and undoubtedly the surgery, make me a little drowsy so I have an extra nap here and there but otherwise, not terrible at all. I still can't lift G-ski and raise my right arm very high, but I haven't done dishes or changed a diaper in a week so I'm not complaining.
The one definite pain in the arse, are the drains. I have two drains at the incision sites that I need to empty twice a day and record how much fluid collects in the receptacle. (Nasty!) When the plastic surgeon deems the volume is low enough then he'll take them out. I need to keep the collection bulbs safety pinned to the band of my bra so they don't pull on the drains, or worse, the kids don't rip them out. One is coming out today, and hopefully the other one by the end of the week. For the most part they are under my shirt and out of the way as much as is possible. The tricky part is showering. I can't exactly hold two drains in my hands and shower, so they gave me a little fanny pack to stick them in. I still need help holding them when I'm toweling off and re-attaching to my clothes but at least it's manageable. Apparently some surgeons don't let their patients shower for a week+ until the drains are removed. Thankfully my plastic surgeon is a little more laid back. Here's a shot of the last drain to come out. You'll be happy to know I took the photo early in the morning before the bulb had time to collect much fluid. I was definitely not cut out to be in the medical profession.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Young Women
I know it's pointless and a little torturous, but I have to wonder sometimes, "Why me? The American Cancer Society estimates that 226,870 new cases of invasive breast cancer will be diagnosed in the U.S. in 2012. The chance of a woman having invasive breast cancer sometime during her life is a little less than 1 in 8. If you told me there was a good chance I'd develop breast cancer as a grandmother, I wouldn't be that shocked. As a 39 year old mother of two children under four years of age - not so much. In the United States, only about 5% of all breast cancer cases occur in women under age 40. I don't smoke, drink excessively, or have a family history of any kind of cancer. I'd hardly consider myself an athlete, but I like to run, try to work out on a regular basis, and have what I consider to be a healthy body weight. My average run on the weekend is 7 miles, our family, in general, likes to spend a lot of time outdoors, I breastfed both my children, and I don't paint my nails for fear of all the unregulated toxins in nail polish. Alright, I don't have the best diet - I have a terrible sweet tooth, and probably don't eat enough fruits and vegetables - but doesn't that describe the majority of people?
The funny and selfishly comforting thing is, I do seem to be hearing about a lot of other young women with breast cancer, both online and from friends that know someone who has been affected. Just recently I discovered a woman at my son's preschool, which has a population of maybe 125 kids, had breast cancer six months ago. Our sons are the same age and it has been so inspiring to hear her story. There is even a foundation in my area called the Tigerlily Foundation that focuses on young women (ages 15-40) with breast cancer, as well as young member support groups put on by Life with Cancer. I haven't taken advantage of any of these resources yet, but I hope to overcome my shyness and do so soon.
When I first learned about my cancer I was obsessed with reading blogs like Jacki Donaldson and Jayne England Byrne because it's real people that tell you all the stuff you really want to know. I have Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book on my must read list, but is she going to tell me where to get the best "underhair"? I don't think so. I struggled a lot with whether to create a blog about this whole experience and whether to make it public. I consider myself a very private person and my first thought was to just write it for me, to chronicle the whole experience and for the sheer therapeutic value of journaling. I changed my mind for two reasons. First, it's an easy way for friends and family to check in on what's going on, without my having to write or call individually with repetitive updates. Plus, people can read as much or as little as they feel comfortable with. Second, I'm leaving it open to the public and keeping the lame-ass title "Michelle's Breast Cancer Blog" so perfect strangers going through the same ordeal can find it easily and hopefully get some degree of comfort, or information, or reassurance, similar to what I took away from my fave bloggers listed above. I know nothing about writing a blog and don't have the time to make it as pretty, witty, and well-written as I'd like for public consumption, but hopefully I'll improve as I go along.
The funny and selfishly comforting thing is, I do seem to be hearing about a lot of other young women with breast cancer, both online and from friends that know someone who has been affected. Just recently I discovered a woman at my son's preschool, which has a population of maybe 125 kids, had breast cancer six months ago. Our sons are the same age and it has been so inspiring to hear her story. There is even a foundation in my area called the Tigerlily Foundation that focuses on young women (ages 15-40) with breast cancer, as well as young member support groups put on by Life with Cancer. I haven't taken advantage of any of these resources yet, but I hope to overcome my shyness and do so soon.
When I first learned about my cancer I was obsessed with reading blogs like Jacki Donaldson and Jayne England Byrne because it's real people that tell you all the stuff you really want to know. I have Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book on my must read list, but is she going to tell me where to get the best "underhair"? I don't think so. I struggled a lot with whether to create a blog about this whole experience and whether to make it public. I consider myself a very private person and my first thought was to just write it for me, to chronicle the whole experience and for the sheer therapeutic value of journaling. I changed my mind for two reasons. First, it's an easy way for friends and family to check in on what's going on, without my having to write or call individually with repetitive updates. Plus, people can read as much or as little as they feel comfortable with. Second, I'm leaving it open to the public and keeping the lame-ass title "Michelle's Breast Cancer Blog" so perfect strangers going through the same ordeal can find it easily and hopefully get some degree of comfort, or information, or reassurance, similar to what I took away from my fave bloggers listed above. I know nothing about writing a blog and don't have the time to make it as pretty, witty, and well-written as I'd like for public consumption, but hopefully I'll improve as I go along.
Friday, February 3, 2012
My Network
The first thing you have to know about my neighbourhood in Vienna, is that it's a little like living in Mayfield from Leave it to Beaver, circa 1959. Before I was even released from the hospital my good friend Nicole had found a website called TakeThemAMeal which helps organize dinners for people who need a helping hand. I think we are currently being fed until April. And that's not including the food my work colleagues had already sent home with me to stock the freezer. The hilarious part is that my cooking is mediocre at best and everyone is bringing us these wonderful gourmet meals. I feel like I need to send a disclaimer out saying that really, BLTs are just fine. Here is a picture of my dining room table when I got home, and that doesn't even take into account the piles of cards, emails and phone calls I've been getting from my friends and family, here and in Canada. One thing I've realized is that everyone wants to help. It's difficult to know how I'm going to react to the treatment schedule and what help I might need, but it's good to know that I have a network in place, and that they're awesome!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Surgery
So, it was a little strange being at work and trying to focus on getting back up to speed on my files while I also rushed around doing errands, going to pre-op appointments, and trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was basically getting a piece of my body cut off in a little over a week - Jan. 30th. I debated over whether to tell my son C that I was going to the hospital, but in the end the distraction of having Grandma around to play with allowed us to gloss over it and pretend I was just working late. Thankfully my mom will be in town for three weeks - basically the whole mini hospital stay and three week recovery period - which is awesome. I can't pick up my little 23 pound butterball for three weeks so I'll definitely need help shuffling the kids back and forth to daycare/preschool and with all the other daily activities so that John can actually get some work done and maybe even keep his job.
The weekend before the surgery was fairly uneventful. For all of January I had actually been the one taking the kids to all their weekend activities because I knew John would be doing the lion's share in the months to come, so I took C to soccer and G to swimming. We picked Grandma up from the airport, and C even had the extra special treat of an afternoon with Daddy at the Monster Truck Jam at the Verizon Center. As far as the kids were concerned, life was good.
On Monday, January 30th, John and I showed up at Inova Fairfax Hospital at 6 in the morning for an 8 o'clock procedure time. C was so excited to show Grandma his preschool and introduce her to his friends and teachers that he didn't even question why she was taking him. This was my first surgery ever so I found the pre-op bay a little more hectic then I envisioned. All the nurses, your surgeon, plastic surgeon, anaesthesiologist, and their operating assistants all come in with paperwork and basically check your arm band and ask you all the same questions over and over again. I remember being wheeled into the operating room, looking up at all the lights, and then waking up in the recovery room hours later.
My surgeon operated first, obviously removing the cancerous tissue and the sentinel lymph node - which came back negative! This was huge for several reasons - it meant there was no need to remove any more lymph nodes which is painful and can cause complications, but there would also be no need for radiation as part of my treatment - yay! Sentinel node involvement is a big factor in the staging of the cancer, but I'll get to that later. Based on the placement of my tumours, she was also able to do a nipple sparing mastectomy. It's still too early to know if the tissue will survive, but if so, it's obviously less I'll have to worry about regarding procedures down the road, and I'm all for that. After the surgeon did her thing, my plastic surgeon came in and started the reconstruction, placing an expander under the tissue to be gradually stretched as time goes on.
I was supposed to be in the hospital for only one night, but there's always something right?! Of all things it was my bladder that necessitated another night's stay. Apparently all that anesthesia made my bladder a little sleepy so I didn't seem to be able to void my bladder as much as they would have liked. It actually caused more commotion than I would have thought normal, and I even have to have two follow up appointments with a urologist to make sure everything is as is should be, but it's the least of my worries right now. Anyway, I made it out of there late Wednesday afternoon and couldn't have been happier to be home --and that wasn't just the Percocet and Valium talking.
The weekend before the surgery was fairly uneventful. For all of January I had actually been the one taking the kids to all their weekend activities because I knew John would be doing the lion's share in the months to come, so I took C to soccer and G to swimming. We picked Grandma up from the airport, and C even had the extra special treat of an afternoon with Daddy at the Monster Truck Jam at the Verizon Center. As far as the kids were concerned, life was good.
On Monday, January 30th, John and I showed up at Inova Fairfax Hospital at 6 in the morning for an 8 o'clock procedure time. C was so excited to show Grandma his preschool and introduce her to his friends and teachers that he didn't even question why she was taking him. This was my first surgery ever so I found the pre-op bay a little more hectic then I envisioned. All the nurses, your surgeon, plastic surgeon, anaesthesiologist, and their operating assistants all come in with paperwork and basically check your arm band and ask you all the same questions over and over again. I remember being wheeled into the operating room, looking up at all the lights, and then waking up in the recovery room hours later.
My surgeon operated first, obviously removing the cancerous tissue and the sentinel lymph node - which came back negative! This was huge for several reasons - it meant there was no need to remove any more lymph nodes which is painful and can cause complications, but there would also be no need for radiation as part of my treatment - yay! Sentinel node involvement is a big factor in the staging of the cancer, but I'll get to that later. Based on the placement of my tumours, she was also able to do a nipple sparing mastectomy. It's still too early to know if the tissue will survive, but if so, it's obviously less I'll have to worry about regarding procedures down the road, and I'm all for that. After the surgeon did her thing, my plastic surgeon came in and started the reconstruction, placing an expander under the tissue to be gradually stretched as time goes on.
I was supposed to be in the hospital for only one night, but there's always something right?! Of all things it was my bladder that necessitated another night's stay. Apparently all that anesthesia made my bladder a little sleepy so I didn't seem to be able to void my bladder as much as they would have liked. It actually caused more commotion than I would have thought normal, and I even have to have two follow up appointments with a urologist to make sure everything is as is should be, but it's the least of my worries right now. Anyway, I made it out of there late Wednesday afternoon and couldn't have been happier to be home --and that wasn't just the Percocet and Valium talking.
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