Friday, March 15, 2013

Valium, sweet valium

So I'm 10 days out of surgery. Expander is out, port is out, implant is in! I stayed home from work all last week and mostly self-medicated and slept. It's not terribly painful to be honest; I have not really been using the percocet. I'm more stiff and sore - enter the valium - which in my opinion should totally be over the counter. I think, if I understand correctly, that the implant goes under your chest muscle and since valium is a muscle relaxant it just helps to loosen everything up. It also has the added bonus of making you sleepy so I am actually sleeping through the night which has been a problem with all those damn hot flashes from the Tamoxifen, but I digress...

Anyway, I had my post-op with the plastic surgeon and he said everything looked "normal". I think it actually looks pretty hideous with the scars opened up again and the stitches hanging off waiting to dissolve, but this is why I'm not in the medical profession. I try not to look. I have to sleep upright, where a sports bra 24-7, and no heavy lifting or bouncing for awhile. The only glitch in that little scenario is my 30lb G-ski, but we took the front rail off his crib, gave him a stepstool to climb into his carseat, and diaper changes are now on the floor. Poor little guy keeps raising his hands saying "up, up" and C wants to know when my "arm" is going to be better so it won't hurt to pull on it when we're holding hands. Hopefully soon, little men!

I also had my post-op check with my oncologist who has been monitoring the wbc counts. As I mentioned, they sky-rocketed to the 14's after a week of the Neupogen shots, but when I went in for labs yesterday (9 days after the last one) I was back in the 3's again. Argh - so depressing. This means more shots to lower the risk of infection while I heal. I had one yesterday, one today, and will have 2 or 3 next week. I have to tell you this whole neutropenia thing is really stressing me out. My oncologist says she isn't worried. I'm only "mildly" neutropenic. So what does that mean for the rest of my life? I'll have to wear a face mask and live in a bubble during flu season? I am so ready for all of this to be over.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a valium and go to bed.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Reconstruction Day




So here I am just about to go into the OR. The annoying Neupogen shots clearly worked because my wbc count was 14.4. I got to do this second part of the reconstruction in the surgery centre attached to my plastic surgeon's office which was quite nice. (Or at least a lot more pleasant than being in the hospital). I was the only patient in there so it felt less manic and stressful. I was under for a few hours and apparently the first thing I said when I came to was to ask if I was going to get a pineapple popsicle. This sounds ridiculous - and it is - but there is kind of an explanation. At the hospital where I delivered both my boys, they give you popsicles after your delivery, and seriously nothing ever tasted so good! So I guess I was a wee bit confused why I was there. The anesthesiologist said I'd wake up in about 5 mins into the recovery room where I'd regroup for about an hour and then go home. Not so much. Could not stay awake and felt nauseated whenever I wasn't sleeping. I was in recovery for three hours. The nurse said it's not uncommon for "small people" to have a harder time which doesn't really make sense to me because I would think the anesthetic is all calculated based on your size, but I was too tired to care. I guess it was closing time so they finally managed to get me into a wheelchair and into the car. I slept the whole way home and somehow John woke me up in the driveway and got me into bed. A few hours later I woke up starving, not having eaten anything for 24 hours, and lovely John made me the best homemade pizza all delivered to my bed.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

What Doesn't Kill You...

Anyone that's been following this story of mine will know that I've been trying to get back into decent running shape. While I was thrilled to finally set a date for my surgery (March 5th), it also means that I will have to drop out of the Cherry Blossom 10-miler - again. I've been running ten miles on the weekends so I was a little frustrated to not be able to race. So being the crazy person that I am, I found a half marathon in Williamsburg prior to my surgery date, and we all drove 2 1/2 hours south so I could get a race in. Despite all the hills and the fact that I've only been running ten miles, it went really well. It was a gorgeous sunny day, John and the boys came to cheer me on, and it kind of felt like I was giving cancer the bird knowing that a year ago I was starting chemo and now I was running a half marathon. John was laughing at me for putting Kelly Clarkson on my i-pod, but I tell you, it was my Williamsburg theme song! (You're singing it now, aren't you?!)





Friday, February 22, 2013

Graduation

Apologies for my absence -- I don't know where the last two months went. I've had about a million appointments.. I saw my oncologist and breast surgeon for check-ups, and had another mammogram, echo-cardiogram, and genetic test. Everything looked good. My breast surgeon got my oncologist and plastic surgeon talking and they managed to work out a plan to get my expander out - finally! My WBC was low again (2.57) so my oncologist is going to give me Neupogen shots to temporarily boost my counts to a level where the plastic surgeon feels comfortable operating. I have a surgery date set for March 5th, and for seven days leading up to the surgery I will get a shot.

I also had my last treatment on February 19th!!! One year, people! I jokingly asked my chemo nurse if I would get a certificate for graduating and sure enough they all came over to wish me well and give me hugs AND a certificate - haha. I have nothing but good things to say about the chemo nurses at the Fairfax office of Virginia Cancer Specialists - the best!


Thursday, January 3, 2013

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!


Sunday, December 30, 2012

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.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

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!