Good riddance, 2012!

I am seriously so excited that 2012 is finally over. It's almost unbelievable to look back and see all that has happened over the last year. I practically cried putting up the new calendar. Today is my cancerversary - I've survived one year. Some people commemorate the day they found the lump, some choose the day they were officially diagnosed, and others the day they had surgery or finished treatment. One year ago I was sitting in my office listening to the radiologist tell me I have cancer. I'll never forget that phone call. Nothing has been the same since.

I can tell you one thing - cancer is expensive. My total medical charges for 2012 were $341,605.37 and that doesn't include prescriptions. (Our insurance didn't actually pay out that amount, but that was the total billed). I calculate my out-of-pocket expenses to be about $1700 which includes co-pays, prescriptions and my wig. Not terrible, all things considered, but I could have done something way more fun with $1700.

I can also tell you that recovery is way slower than I would like. I have three more Herceptin treatments left in 2013, a part II reconstructive surgery, and a port that will need to come out before I can consider treatment officially over. (Note, I am not including the five years on Tamoxifen in this little countdown or I'll really get depressed). I'm telling myself that my hair is very Anne Hathaway/Les Mis, but obviously it can't grow fast enough, and I'm seriously starting to wonder whether I will ever have full eyebrows and eyelashes ever again.

Despite all this, I feel like the worst is over (hopefully for good) and that this year will see us in a happier place. Onwards and upwards!

Reconstuction Options

I came across this article on Belinda Stronach a while back, and was really surprised by her accounts of reconstruction options in Canada. According to the article, in 2010-11, 24,735 women had mastectomies in Canada. Of those, only 945 women (about 1 in 26) had immediate reconstruction, and only 1719 women had delayed reconstruction (about 1 in 15). I thought reconstruction was a given, but obviously that is not the case everywhere, and I'm thanking my lucky stars again that I live where I do and have access to amazing medical care. Reconstruction seems to be the standard of care in this area, in fact, I was presented with a few different options to consider.  I'd be interested to hear about other people's experiences. Why are those numbers so low?

Stronach talks about having to go to California in order to have nipple sparing surgery, which is what I received and didn't realize it was anything out of the ordinary. Like most people, I had a very basic knowledge of what a mastectomy entailed in my pre-cancer life, and I certainly had no idea that I could have my breast reconstructed to look basically normal. My breast surgeon and plastic surgeon were able to keep my skin and nipple so if it weren't for the huge scar running along the underside of my breast, you wouldn't know I had a mastectomy at all. (Well, I should qualify that, you could definitely tell right now because the expander is ridiculously high and off kilter, but I'm hoping once I swap it for the implant it will look a little more natural)! Next labs are January 7th. Stay tuned.

I Heart Science

A new study was released today that suggests that taking Tamoxifen for ten years instead of five may be beneficial, particularly in younger women. In the study, researchers found that women who took tamoxifen for 10 years lowered their risk of a recurrence by 25 percent and of dying of breast cancer by 29 percent compared to those who took the pills for just five years. I don't see my oncologist again until mid-January, but I'm wondering if she's going to suggest I stay on it for ten. I have mixed feelings about this. I hate the thought of having to take a drug for ten years (I thought five was forever), and enduring the side effects which can be serious in their own right. On the other hand, I have a lot of years ahead of me so anything I can do to reduce the risk of recurrence sounds comforting. It's never that black and white though. I'll be interested to hear what she has to say. I only started Tamoxifen this July, so chances are in five years there will be something new anyway, or better yet, a cure!

The Chair

Just when I start thinking life is back to normal, it's back in "the chair" for me. I won't say it isn't depressing to go into the clinic every three weeks for yet another infusion, but it's not terrible either. I know most of the nurses, and they know me. They stop and say hello or comment on how nice my hair is coming in (haha). John and I get a Starbucks on the way into the building, I get to relax in a big comfy chair, go into work late, and for one whole hour I can actually sit and do absolutely nothing. Well, other than obsessing over my labs that is. I'm starting to wonder whether I'll ever get back into the normal range. Today my WBC moved up to 3.39 from 3.16 six weeks ago. (Recall that I have to get to 4 to finish my surgery). Could it take any longer?! The good news is, only 4 more treatments left!

 

Running, but not pushing...

I am stealing this line from my friend because I think it's bang on re my post-cancer routine: I'm running, but I'm not pushing. (To be honest, this kind of describes my approach to fitness before cancer as well). I'm a listen to the birds kind of jogger. I like to sign myself up for races periodically because it forces me to kick things up a notch. Today I did my first race in exactly a year - the Vienna 10K Turkey Trot - and today I pushed. This was the first year they offered a 10K, and I was pleasantly surprised to have run a 8:52 pace. Here's a pic a friend snapped just as I was about to cross the finish line:

I didn't win a turkey, (I was 10th in my age category) but there's always next year.

Sent it Packing

The time has come for the hair to go into hibernation. I started going "au naturel" about a week ago, and it feels so much better! I'm amazed at how many people didn't realize I was wearing a wig. I've had several people comment on my "new cut" - haha. It looked so obviously fake to me, but I guess to people I only see occasionally they just thought it was my regular do. Anyway, they are washed and brushed and ready to be stored. Hopefully I will never have occasion to wear them again, unless it's Halloween.

You may recall that I borrowed the blonde underhair from Jacki in Florida. I reached out to her via her blog and she kindly offered to lend it to me. Her post The Hair Hits the Road details its travels. If there's anyone out there wanting to borrow my wig during treatment, please get in touch. Happy to have my wig hit the road as well. Even if you have one, it's nice to have a second option, and they aren't cheap! Jacki, blondie will be making her way back home shortly!

Moving Forward?

I love my therapist. I mean oncologist. I had my 3 month check up with her today and I actually came out of there feeling pretty good. She asked how I found the survivorship class, and I mentioned that it was a little discouraging because I feel like I was more or less doing all the right things before I got cancer. I asked her if there were any life changes I should make, or things to avoid, or things I could do, and she basically said that the biggest factor in my treatment is getting the Herceptin. She also said she thinks it's time to start thinking about transitioning from patient to survivor. As I told the good doctor, I am trying, but it's easier said than done. I was reading some literature from the American Society of Clinical Oncology, and it mentioned that "in some ways, moving from the period of active treatment into survivorship is one of the most complex aspects of the cancer experience." So true. I honestly don't think I will be able to think of myself as a survivor until my treatment is done at the end of February.

We also went over my bloodwork. My WBC count moved up to 3.16 (from 2.76 six weeks ago) which is still not in the normal range (minimum of 4) so I can't schedule my surgery. She said in some people it can take a longer time for the bone marrow to bounce back, but she isn't worried. At this rate, I can't imagine that I'll be back in the OR until the new year. Her feeling was that the plastic surgeon was being overly cautious, but I guess I'm more inclined to be safe than sorry. The last thing I need is to get an infection on top of everything. I'm still very slightly anemic, but it hasn't been affecting me that I've noticed. I actually feel like my energy level is pretty close to normal. I've done a couple of five mile runs in the last few weeks and felt fine. Speaking of being overly cautious, she also said that she was fine with me drinking in moderation which is different from the one drink a month max that the oncology nurse had prescribed.

Finally I asked the million dollar question --what is the chance of re-occurrence in my particular case? Drum roll please... Less than 10%. Obviously I'd sleep a little better if that number was 1%, but it could be worse. I have my dark days like everyone, but honestly I don't have time to dwell on it. Sorry cancer, I'm too busy living to deal with you right now.