Am I really cancer free??? Is this for real?

Sometimes these posts take me a while to formulate and there hasn't been a single one where I didn't shed a tear at a memory as I was writing.  Initially I started doing it to document this journey for myself, but it's become a little more than that.  A friend from high school told me that she appreciated reading about my experience as it gave her some insight to what her mom had privately gone through.  Yes, I feel like I tend to over share, but if my experience is helpful in any way, I'm all for it.  And if you don't like it then don't click the darn link:).  I certainly hope no one I know and love has to go through this, but with a 1 in 8 chance of a woman getting breast cancer in her life time, that's not really realistic.  For those 1 in 8, you can do it!  And still have a life!  Although I'd love nothing more than for anyone else not to go through it.  I still have the thought sometimes that of all my siblings, having been through what I've been through and still have to go through, saying I'm glad it was me might be a stretch, but of the five of us I am glad it was me.  I firmly believe that my experiences and choices of my last few years positioned me well for battle.  It has not been easy and it has been and I'm sure will continue to be very emotional and physically testing, but manageable.

By now most of you know I received THE phone call from my breast surgeon a week post surgery with the final tissue pathology.  And my tissue showed no signs of cancer.  Effing A, for real.  I wasn't sure what to expect with that call, honestly hadn't even thought about it that much with the anxiety building up to surgery.  Just knew that a week or so post surgery she'd call me with the results.  I had a follow up with the breast surgeon this past Tuesday, it sounds like 25% of people get that result.  Post chemo cancer stage 0.  ZERO.  Complete pathological response to chemo.  So glad I got all 16 of those darn treatments in with minimal side effects.  Yeah that red stuff sucked and cured me from eating or drinking anything red for a while, but seriously how lucky am I?  Woot woot is right.  I still have done almost no research because I don't want to freak myself out, but sounds like that bodes pretty well for my long term survival.  Pshaw, long term survival?  Who says that?  Well, maybe I did.  There were like three days in this process, so far anyway, that I questioned that (when I was waiting to find out if the cancer had spread), but other than that I knew I was going to live.  In a race metaphor, was just a matter of really how much is it going to hurt?  And inconvenience me.  

NEGATIVE!!!

 Dr. Bermas mentioned that there have been studies that have shown that 325mg of aspirin 2 - 5 times per week have been shown to lower re-occurrence.  Sure did buy some of that today.  She suggested the easiest way to take it is every Mon, Wed and Fri.  Am I going to have to get a pill box?  Seriously.  I'm still on antibiotics too since I have two drains in yet.  Won't miss those suckers.  Drains or the antibiotics.  Dr. Bermas suggested I come back in six months for a check in, more of a check in than a check up is how it sounded.  Make sure I'm managing ok, exercising, doing generally healthy things for my body.  She called me she-woman and said she wasn't worried about me at all, I'd be just fine.  And she's right, more than fine.  That is my only option.  It's interesting because it was really the appointment with her that kicked off this whole thing and started the whole coordination of effort, but I've really only had my initial consult, pre-surgery apt, surgery and post-surgery apt with her.  Seems like there should be more!  I will look forward to seeing her in six months.  Until then, she said I'm in great hands with Liz, as she refers to Dr. O'Connor, the plastic surgeon and the oncology team.  I tend to agree.

Back to the call, my dad happened to be here that day helping out with really anything I asked him to do.  Mostly desperately needed yard work!  It was pretty cool that he was here with me when I got that call.  I held it together as in didn't cry when I called Ryan to tell him (definitely close), my mom, not so much.  I could tell she was tearing up on the phone and I looked over at my dad in the truck and he was too and then I was.  Damn those happy tears.  Or maybe relieved tears, maybe both.  Went down the line and called my sibs, Ryan's mom and a few friends and sent a lot of texts.  My sister much have been teaching because her phone went right to voice mail, but she texted back and said YOU BEAT THE DAMN THING!  Until then, I didn't really realize the magnitude of that phone call.  I did beat it!  I think it's still sinking in.  Sometimes I tell Ryan I forget that I have, well now had cancer.  I would just get busy with day to day life, and be like oh yeah, tomorrow is Wed, time for my pre-chemo run and chemo.  Which friend do I get to spend the day with today?  Sometimes I would cry and then of course I would remember yeah, I'm one of the lucky ones, I get to live, this blows, but I can deal.

Monday this week was my second follow up with Dr. O'Connor.  She asked how I was doing and I just mentioned to her that I was just pissed I was still sort of sore two weeks after surgery.  She just looked at me like really?  And gently reminded me that's to be expected and will last a few more weeks.  This I know, but it still annoys me!  Two weeks after surgery and I got two of the drains removed.  I tell you, even having two of them removed makes this whole showering process WAY easier.  Well everything easier.  I'm really hopeful I get the last two out before Meg's field trip to Mt. Olympus on June 1 as it would be way easier not to have to deal with them that day.  I guess this next week will tell.  The whole drain removal process...yeah couldn't feel a thing.  They don't stitch up the sites, just put a band aid over them and they close on their own in a few days.  Kind of cool, the human body's ability to heal.  I think we were too busy talking for me to feel anything.  I heard it just felt kind of strange.  I went in there with three questions on my mind.  Could I cut the grass yet on the rider (got a no on that one), could I throw out the first pitch at a softball game (her answer was yes, but gently), and could I walk up a big hill even though I'm suppose to keep my heart rate down (yes, but if feel like I'm breathing heavy need to take a break).  I am headed to the DeGroot cottage this weekend and thought it might be nice to go for a walk but there's a big hill out.  So, I'm going for a walk!  She also put some more saline in the expanders.  That was a strange process but didn't hurt at all.  She used the little magnet finder thing, took a big syringe with a strawlike thing attached to the needle, stuck it in the diaphram through my skin and pushed it in.  She said she just puts enough in until the skin feels firm on the outside.  Ironically it didn't hurt going in or immediately after, but dang, things have been a little sore since then.  I'm up to 250ccs on each side, although that doesn't mean too much to me right now.  She does think that when I get to 600 or so that I'll be ready to get the implants, so I guess it means I'm almost half way there.  At this point, I'm trying to figure out if it's just general soreness post surgery or from the fill.  I'm sort of hoping it's post surgery soreness, but not thinking that's it.  I've heard a few times that this filling process can get to be a little painful.  But whatever, that's what tylenol and ibuprofen are for and if I feel I could use some muscle relaxers I will be sure to ask!  I was thinking that maybe when I can start working out again, the pain from that will take my mind off the pain from my expanding skin.  Hmmmm.  Or maybe I'll slosh.  Ewww. 

Speaking of cc's, there's been no shortage of conversation among my community about how big are you gonna go?!  I don't mind the talk, it kind of cracks me up actually.  One of the guys used a metaphor that you rarely ever regret buying something bigger when it comes to snowmobiles, boat engines, etc.  Haha, I thought that was pretty funny and he's right.  Ultimately I know it's whatever I'm most comfortable with, getting to grow into them will be a nice perk, even if it will be a little painful at times.  And then I can break out the shirt that says the real ones tried to kill me!

Up next is another follow up appointment with Dr. O in another week and a half for a fill, as I mentioned above, hopefully can get in before that day to get these last two drains removed.  I'll continue to see the plastic surgeon every other week or so for "fills" and then once my skin heals for a minimum of four months and I've had my fill, I'll have another surgery to get the expanders out and the permanent implants (well 25 year implants) put in and I am planning to live happily and healthily well beyond that 25 years.  Can you say perky at 90?!  Kind of makes me laugh.

I also have a follow up with the oncologist in about two weeks, a month post surgery.  At that time they'll start me on a drug that will prevent my body from producing estrogen.  Tumors can be estrogen receptive and I believe they get classified as 0, 1, 2 or 3.  The higher the number the more susceptible the cancer is to estrogen feeding it.  I was classified a 1 which was 10% or less, so from what I hear, that's a little easier to treat than a 3.  I guess that makes sense.  There are a few different drugs to choose from, one of them saps bone density so sounds like he's going to start me on the other one for the first few years and then switch me to the other after that.  Hopefully chemo killed my ovaries forever but if they start producing hormones again I will have to make the decision whether or not to get them removed.  And I can tell you they are a coming out.  I sure don't need them anymore!  And honestly, the chemo induced menopause hot flashes haven't been unbearable.  Plus, with the port surgery, appendix surgery and mastectomy surgery under my belt, I'm not so scared about surgery anymore.  Well, maybe just a little.  Maybe I can just get this menopause crap over with now and skip it in ten years.  Sheesh, still can't quite believe I turn 40 this year. 

I'm still working out the details of my follow on care, which will be mostly shared among the breast surgeon and the oncologist.  Thankfully the care I've gotten has been very coordinated between all the different parties and I'm confident that will continue to be the case.  Every six months with Dr. Bermas, I'll be seeing Dr. O for a while and I think every three months for oncology, but will find that out soon enough.  I think that oncology has to make sure the daily pill they are giving me is doing its job so I'll have labs to check that.  They'll check my chest wall for lumps and do an over all physical exam.  Good luck checking that chest wall because once these four to six weeks are over I will be working my way up to one armed push ups.  You hear that Aaron and Jake?  I'm coming for you!  I'll let you and Ryan have the clapping push ups though:).  Oh Karl too, that m'effer is strong too.  Ultimately, I think the plan is to alternate between the breast surgeon and oncology so that every 6 months I'm getting a full on check up or check in.

Now there's this whole other issue of survivorship that I probably need to get accustomed with, but one thing at a time.  I'm going to enjoy this one for a while...at least until that three month check up appointment anyway:). 

Wanted to relay a few stories from this past weekend at Megan's team's softball tournaments.  I had two separate conversations that just lit me up, so cute.  Seriously these kids and families around here are amazing.  One of the girls on Meg's team, she's a year younger than Megan, well her dad, Nicky and I were walking out to the parking lot to get stuff (thanks Nicky for schlepping my crap all weekend!) and he says to me in an excited voice, I heard the good news!  And I was like oh what good news is that?  He said his daughter came home from school one night last week and said did you hear the good news yet?  Megan's mom is cancer free!  Pretty cute that she knew and was that excited she told her parents when she got home.  That weekend was a weird weather weekend and I had layers upon layers at some points, but it got pretty warm Saturday afternoon so I had just my tank top on.  Well, my drains were all pinned into the inside of the tank, visible bumps and one of the girls asked me what they were.  So I was like you want to see, they might kind of gross you out?  She was sure, I'll look.  And there was a bit of a crew around me.  I was like ok, here they are.  Well that led to a few more questions about what they were for, why I had them, etc.  I explained as best I could what the drains for, about my surgery, how they take out the tissue below the skin, you know me, I don't hold much back.  Showed them the little bruises by my arm pits, well they were visible with a tank.  They all did know I had breast cancer, but it was kind of interesting to hear the questions.  She asked some of the cutest, pointed questions.  Two stick out to me.  One was is your hair going to grow back and the other was were you scared?  And both accounts I said yes.  I talked with her a little about chemo, what that was, how it helps, why I needed it, how it kills fast growing cells, aka hair, etc.  I did definitely admit that I was pretty scared, but that I knew I had a great team to help me get through it.  Now that I think of it, kind of a good analogy for a softball game!  I showed her how my eyelashes and eyebrows were growing back in, I was like if you look close you can see the little hairs.  She took a close up look and said yeah, I can see them!  I did go let her mom know she was asking questions and that I didn't hold much back, just in case she had more on the way home.  Those girls won that Saturday game to get the opportunity to play into the championship game on Sunday and took first at the tournament.  I love that they took first, but ultimately it doesn't really matter what place they took, the memories they will take away from that weekend will be the team camaraderie and the fun stuff in between games!  Note video below and the awesome bar and grill that opened up early for us to kill some times in between games on Sunday.  Girls stayed loose, parents had fun!  Thanks Augie's in Luxemburg!  It was a great way to spend my first weekend in a while as a cancer free chick and the girls coming home with some hardware was an awesome bonus!

Signed,
- cancer free chick

Required goofy face pic!

Thanks Alyssa for this photo, great idea!

Happy tears and I've earned them! Part 2

So by now, I can't even remember what the happy tears I referred to were when I did this last post.  There have been more than a few reasons for them, that's for sure.  And just as I feel like my brain is coming back to full functionality, yeah, maybe not!

First, seriously, I am honestly still floored and humbled at the support, texts, well wishes, prayers, happy thoughts, comments on facebook, cards, flowers, phone calls, visits, food, etc that I'm receiving.   All of you are incredible and that helps that make this journey livable and fun.  Even my friend's parents, friends of friends, friends of relatives, co-workers, Megan's friends, it really is incredible and reminds me just how kind people are. 

If interested, read on for a little about this whole surgery experience.  It might be a little TMI for some, but I'm putting it out there.  Early on I had decided that I would have a bilateral mastectomy.  I was initially on the fence about a lumpectomy, a one sided mastectomy or a bilateral.  I liked the lumpectomy because of no major surgery to recover from but then radiation was required and I really didn't want that.  My first chemo day pushed me right toward the bilateral mastectomy choice...I was actually kind of thankful that they put that clip in the wrong place and if that wasn't my choice I would have had to push chemo and get another MRI and chip placed and blah blah blah.  Whatever.  I was ready to get this show on the road.  Didn't think twice about my decision after that.

I did think WAY more than twice about the surgery itself though.  I wondered what it would feel like to have part of me cut off or out as the case actually is.  Would I feel gross, unattractive or something else.  How sorry for myself would I feel?  Should I tell myself ok I am going to give myself permission to feel sorry for myself for a day, two days, two hours, or however longed seemed appropriate?  And I feel a little ashamed to say, my fear was really of the physical and what it would to do my emotional psyche.  I'm not much of a user of the word breast so get use to the word boob.  Well, by now I've used it enough so hopefully no one is too offended.  I shared these fears with a few people close to me and they assured me that I'm not my boobs, I'm more than that.  Which of course I know, but so nice to be reminded in this situation.  And that my fears are normal.  And that when they feel I've felt sorry for myself long enough they'll let me know.  Can't ask for more than that!

I feel like in the weeks between chemo and surgery I really tried to get myself mentally ready for surgery.  I wasn't really sure how to do that, but being reminded I was more than my boobs helped.  And remembering that humpty dumpty was put together again and I would be too.  I loved that Nicky sent me a pic of Nolan's Humpty Dumpty art work as a reminder.  Possibly twice over the last few months that pic showed up in text.  And I survived chemo!  And I get to live.  And and and.  But this was a long surgery, 4 to 6 hours was the estimate.  How long would I need to stay in the hospital?  Who would manage my life while I was out of it?  Would I be able to move my arms?  Wipe my ass?  Actually that was Ryan's question!  I answered with a well if I wasn't gonna be able to wipe my own ass I would have hoped they would have said something in the pre-surgery consults!  I honestly believed I could absolutely not be in better hands between the breast surgeon and plastic surgeon.  Nothing against men, but I feel really comfortable with each of these women and their shared experience.  That brought comfort.  But I was still anxious.  And I hit my goal of running 9.3 the Saturday before surgery.  Thanks Rhonda for helping to get me there!  And that bloody after with you, Ryan and Myriah was pretty effing amazing. 

My anxiety started the Friday afternoon about a week and a half before the surgery.  I can remember I was actually in the shower and wondering wtf was wrong with me not being able to catch a deep breath.  Took me a little bit to realize it was anxiety.  I think that particular day was anxiety for a few reasons, but mostly this surgery shit was starting to get real yo.  And I was like um I don't know if I can handle this anxiety shit for a week and a half.  My surgery was scheduled for Monday May 4 so what I did know was that I couldn't eat after midnight the night before, no alcohol 48 hours before (minus my post run bloody and beer of course), had to shower with some special soap and be there by 6:30 in the AM so I could get this radioactive crap through a shot in my nip.  Twice.  And that was suppose to burn.  Fun stuff.  The reason for that was so that the surgeon could see which lymph nodes the ducts went to first, those were the nodes they pulled out to test for cancer.  Having that done puts me at risk for lymphodemia of my right arm for the rest of my life.  That means no IVs, blood pressure cuffs, etc on my right arm.  Ever.  Yep, my Road ID is up to date!

I asked Megan if she preferred that Ryan or my mom get her to school that Monday.  Her question back to me was well who do you want to take you to the hospital?  And I was like well played kid, well played!  I decided I wanted Ryan to take me and Mom to get Meg to school.  Then Meg proceeded to tell me that if it were her in my shoes she'd want her mom to take her.  Awe, kind of love that she said that to me and made me feel a little guilty at the same time.  Go figure.  Daughter guilt this time, not mom guilt for once!  The night before we talked through it and mom thought if she got Meg to school that I wouldn't get to see her before surgery.  Well, that wasn't going to do.  Best case I wanted both mom and Ryan there.  Time to ask for help!  Rhonda got Meg to school so Mom got there just a little after Ryan and I.  As a matter of fact, we were still in the waiting room.  They come get me and take me back for prep.  Kind of rushed me through because my surgery time was at 8:30 and they had to prep me for surgery with the IV, give me two of the stinging shots in the nip, yeah two, quick visit with the anesthesiologist, breast surgeon and plastic surgeon.  That was kind of a lot to cram in.  And get this, the nurse that was in the pre-operating room was the same nurse that prepped me for my surgery to get my port put in.  She was a traveling nurse for a long time but had settled in Appleton and had a friend that lived in Montana that was recently diagnosed with breast cancer.  She seemed like a cool lady.  

The plastic surgeon shows up first.  Dr. Elizabeth O'Connor, even though I don't have the finished product yet, I'd still totally recommend her!  I gotta drop the gown and she marks up my chest with the incision line and then a bunch of other lines with a sharpie looking like marker.  One went clear up to my neck with an arrow at the top.  I think she was outlining my chest wall so that she could place the expanders in the right spot.  So I'm all marked up and she shoots a couple of pics.  Not sure if she used the pics during surgery or if they'll go in that before/in process/after album they'll show other patients.  Either way, whatever, use those damn pics.  Show someone else what they are in for and that they too can endure.  I asked her how long she thought the surgery would last and she said she thought they had the operating room scheduled for four hours.  At my plastics consult we decided that rather than preserve the nipples, she'd rebuild them.  It was her recommendation that I'd be happier with the outcome if I did that.  If not, she'd have to do a lift on them and there was a chance I'd have to lose the right side one anyway if the tissue tests came back with any sign of cancer.  I was and am still good with trusting her professional opinion. And she tells us at the consult that most of her patients don't even wear bras during the reconstruction phase.  For those of you that know me well, that goes along with another mantra of mine. 

Ok so then these two dudes come in, one in scrubs holding a box that said radioactive and another guy in street clothes.  Sweet, time to get radioactive stuff shot in my nip, can't wait for that burn.  Twice, did I mention that?  I was asking well how much does it suck and they were like it will suck for just a little bit.  Honestly it was super short sucky time but it stung like a mother when it did.  Oh and now just remembering I had to get a heparin shot in my stomach too - that actually stung worse than the ones in the nip.  Go figure.

And then the nurse anesthetist comes in and he tells me he promises I won't feel a thing!  Yep, I'm good with that.   Dr. Bermas was next, by the way, she is awesome too.  She gave me a pillow for under my arm for after surgery (sometimes the removal of the lymph nodes makes it sore so there's pillows for that!) and put a breast cancer strong bracelet on my right wrist, the side with the cancer.  She said we are going to take great care of you and you are going to be just fine.

Meanwhile, my dad showed up at some point during this process too so it's Ryan, I, and my mom and dad and the associated nurses or doctors coming in and out of this little room.  It was finally time to say our good byes.  I was just wondering if I was going to cry when they all said good bye to me, I sure wasn't feeling very brave, was feeling pretty scared but still ready to get this show on the road.  Ryan said his good bye first then dad then mom (I think, I was just trying not to bawl at this point) and then they wheeled me out.  I will admit, I had a tear rolling down my face as they wheeled me out but by the time we hit the operating room I was like game on.  Both surgeons were standing outside waiting for me to get there and get put under.  And both gave me reassuring smiles as the nurses wheeled me in.  If memory serves, it was a whole room full of female nurses and surgeons and one male nurse anesthetist.  Who really knows who came in and out during the 4.5 hours I was in there.  Yep, surgery went a little long, not sure why.  They all had warned my parents and Ryan that I could be in post op for up to an hour and a half after surgery so not to be worried if it seemed long.

Dr. Bermas finished first and went out to give my peeps an update, Dr. O'Connor finished up after and did the same.  At least I think that's what Ryan told me, my memory from that period is admittedly a little fuzzy!  Apparently they both came to see me in post-op but I don't remember a darn thing.  I was hoping to see my friend Nicky's sister in post-op as she was suppose to be working that day but sounded like she ended up going home early.  I sure did ask if she was there, thought it would have been fun to see a friendly face that I knew!  Not that everyone else wasn't friendly because they certainly were!

Moving to the hospital room after post op recovery was a bit scary.  I was like um, I don't know how to get from this bed to this other bed.  I had to use a body board thingy and they basically wrapped my sheet around me and slid me over.  I remember it hurting when my shoulders bent toward the middle of my body.  Ugh.  Once settled into the bed it was ok.  They handed me the morphine thingy so I could hit the green button for more whenever it lit up.  I was getting a straight baseline drip too but then had the ability to give myself more on demand.  Oh yes, I hit that damn green light almost every time it lit up.  Well not right away.  Mom came in pretty much right away when they were moving me and then I asked her to go get Ryan and then after a bit he went to get both mom and dad.  Everyone just kind of sat there for a while, this is my foggy recollection anyway, chatting a little, looking at their phones, looking out the window, staring at me.  Finally after a while of that and me saying it's too quiet I was like ok mom and dad you guys are out!  I remember feeling just annoyed and I'm sure it came out like that even though I sure hope it was the drugs talking!  So mom and dad went to have dinner and left Ryan with his semi coherent girlfriend for a bit.  Previously, I had decided I'd likely spend the night in the hospital by myself so unless I had a drastic change of mind we'd stick to that plan.  Ryan had his kids that night so I wanted him to be able to spend some time with them and I wanted mom and/or dad to tend to Megan and keep her life as normal as possible.  That worked out ok.  I was pretty happy to not have anyone there when I tried to get up to go to the bathroom for the first time.  Yeah, more on that later.

As Ryan was leaving, Nicky and Rhonda got there.  I can remember trying so hard to have conversation with them, but as soon as they'd say something I'd forget what they said and just nod my head.  One time Rhonda was mid sentence, I must have passed right out on them and I opened my eyes just in time to see her mouth to Nicky, she's sleeping!  Haha, funny stuff.  Was sooooo cool that they came, I was so out of it I couldn't even track in a conversation.  Makes me laugh just thinking about it now.  I think I must have just learned about that morphine button when they got there.

I remember thinking what a cluster that effing hospital bed was.  I had an iv on my left side with the thing for the morphine pump, the leg massager thing at the base of the bed, the blood pressure and pulse ox thingie on the right side of my bed, but the BP cuff on my left arm so the cord crossed my body.  I was SO hungry but was on a liquid diet for the night.  Beef broth and jello it was.  I think anyway.  I remember the first time I got up to go to the bathroom I was so shaky I wasn't sure I could walk so I think the nurse helped me.  Then they had me use a walker and maybe the belt thing too.  All I know is I drank a lot of liquid and had to haul my ass out of that bed at least three times that night to pee.  I'd have to put the bed in just the right position, schooch over to the side, swing my legs over and try not to push up with my arms.  Getting back into bed was even harder, especially without my underwear crawling out of place.  No underwear might have been a better option, I know right?  But after that whole appendix surgery fiasco, I was sure to pack 'em.  And did you know they measure your urine output?  Yep, for real.  I do remember the first time I got up to go to the bathroom I went to wash my hands and I looked in the mirror and was like who the fuck is that looking back at me.  I looked totally ashen gray with big bags under my eyes.  Ugh.  Ah well, a little morphine and I was back to sleep.  Every time I woke up I kept looking down at my chest, but was too scared to lift up the gown and really look.  Too scared.  I ended up waiting until just before the doctor's rounds in the AM.  The plastic surgeon came in first and she said yep all looks great!  Swelling and bruising to be expected and the drains look good.  Oh those drains, that's a whole other story that's with me still today.  I had finally peeked and was like hmmm, this is interesting.  Dr. Bermas came in probably an hour later to check on me and she agreed all looked good.  She must have been able to tell I was like um this doesn't feel so great and looks like I will never be normal again.  Not sure how she knew, but at that moment she said don't worry, this looks just like it's suppose to and Dr. O'Connor will make you beautiful.  Perfect timing for those words, I SO needed to hear them at that moment.  The incisions are still covered by tape so I can't see them, but they appear to only be about 5 inches (if that) long on each side and there's no scarring in my armpits at all.  Scars = memories = battles won so I'm deciding to not be ashamed of the scars that will remain. I earned them.  And get to live.  Yep, common theme right?

So after surgery, there's these drains hanging out of the sides of my body.  Two under each armpit.  They are a total pain in the ass, but I get necessary so my body can heal and get rid of the excess fluid.  I knew up front they'd stay in two to four weeks, just depending on when my body quits producing the fluid.  Megan is fascinated with them and likes to help me strip the cords, empty them and measure them.  It is an exercise in patience for me, but I'm ok with her helping and showing that much interest.  I got two removed today, which is two weeks out from surgery.  Four would have been even better!  To shower I have to pin them to a lanyard and shower with them hanging around my neck.  My 15 minute get ready regimen, make up included, hair still doesn't count, has now turned into about a 40 minute ordeal.  Seriously!  Hopefully just having two will cut my shower time down!  The surgeon sent a prescription to this specialty store in Appleton for a post mastectomy camisole.  Two weeks later, I can maybe say I shouldn't have gotten two, one would have been enough.  I ended up taking some of Megan's too small little footie socks that you'd wear for flats, sticking the drains in there and then pinning them to the sides of tank tops for during the day.  Yep, home office attire at its best.  Thank goodness for all those ribbed tanks I had sitting in my drawer since I sure don't want to put pin holes in my favorite lulu tanks, although I do miss them.

I was wondering if I'd need to sleep sitting up in the recliner for the first week, that was what the instructions said, sleep at a 45 degree angle for the first 7 nights.  Well, after the first night in the recliner, I just propped myself up on a couple of pillows in bed.  I'm a back sleeper anyway so that worked just fine for me.  That Saturday night after the Monday surgery I thought I'd give a whirl driving and heading up to Ryan's house for the night.  Like a trial run on my own without my mom.  Which meant that was the day that I laid off the pain pills and managed the pain with tylenol and ibuprofen, actually worked just fine.  I'm still going with that method to manage the daily pain two weeks later.  Usually I can tell by the time I sit at night that oooh I'm sore.  I've had to keep track of when I'm taking what, that I'm taking those antibiotics (necessary as long as drains are in), not taking too much of something, blah blah blah.  I've been taking a pain pill and a muscle relaxer at night, but interestingly, I wake up after about six hours and am like ouch.  Then comes the ibuprofen.  My kidneys gotta love me...oh well, at least I drink a lot of water?  Once I wake up in the morning I feel a little sore, but just moving around, making coffee, helping Meg, either I don't notice the pain/tightness as much or the tylenol kicks in.  Maybe both?  

I have a habit of snapping a selfie with a sleeping Ryan in the background.  He kept trying to snap a pic of me in my hospital bed, but I would wake up just in time!  My mom managed to grab this on the day we came home.  Yep, no recollection, but it appears Zipper was happy I was home. 

So, I'm sure some of you can relate to having your mom come stay with you for a few days after having a baby?  Well, my mom came and stayed with me for a week and it was SO nice.  It was nice to know that she was taking care of Megan, cleaning, keeping groceries around while I lay in the recliner on pain meds.  And of course taking care of me.  I remember the day she left after she had stayed for a while after I had Megan I totally started crying as I watched her drive away.  I was like who is going to tell me I'm doing a good job, being a good mom, figuring this shit out?  I think just that reassurance she gave me as a new mom was so what I needed.  This time around, I didn't cry when she left but I sure was missing her that next morning.  My house was quiet after Megan left and I had to figure out how to be by myself after being around people all week, was kind of strange.  And I was back working.  I work from a home office, so had decided I'd try to just take a week off and even if I couldn't fully extend my arms at least my brain would work and if I needed to nap I would.  Clearly my situation is not a secret.

I did ok getting back to work and managing the uncomfort with tylenol and ibuprofen, it really wasn't that bad.  In hindsight, I felt like my brain really started working well late that Wednesday afternoon (almost a week and a half post surgery), Thursday evening was asleep on the couch before 8 (Meg managed to snapchat a selfie of her with me sleeping in the background AND she texted it to Ryan, yeah, funny kid) and by Friday around 10AM I started to feel wiped out.  Mind you, I don't sit around much at night so that was likely part of it too.  And there was a busy weekend ahead so the prep building up for that kept me hopping Thursday and Friday too.

I'm a little pissed off that I'm two weeks out from surgery and still sore, totally annoys me.  Not sure that the surgeons understood I don't like not being fully capable.  I get reminders that its temporary.  All temporary, short term pain for long term gain.  But really, I'm doing great, feeling great, moving around better than to be expected and managing just fine.  I'm on limited duty as far as housework, really not suppose to be doing much of anything or lifting anything over 10 lbs for four to six weeks post surgery.  Which means Megan is my work horse.  And that kid has not had to do much around the house like ever.  Not because she wouldn't, just because I just did it as I went about day to day.  I will say she has totally stepped up to the challenge, learned how to clean a toilet, do laundry, even sort it like I do and wash the workout stuff cold, hand up to dry, etc.  She's doing pretty good on the riding mower so she'll be doing that a few more weeks since the plastic surgeon said I can't for a while yet.  And to Meg's credit, the complaining has been minimal.  I think she's kind of enjoying helping out a little more...I could get use to it!  I will say, I'm not an anal clean house person by any means, but I would vacuum regularly every few days, those darn hairy pets!  So, I've had to show her how to do stuff, but also learn to not criticize and accept that she'll do some things differently than I do and that's ok (um, vacuuming comes to mind!).  Picking my battles and adjusting my expectations (that vacuum is not getting used much or in the manner I'm accustomed to, see a pattern here?)...I do think I've mentioned that as long as I have appropriate expectations I can manage most anything and in more ways than one, I am definitely a work in progress.

More to come on the cancer free call, post op follow ups, first fills and first pitches.

Thanks for coming along on my journey,

--  cancer free chick (!)

Happy tears and I've earned them! Part 1

Yet again, it's been a long time since I've taken the time and energy to write a post.  I've done more than a few musings via facebook, dailymile, text for some, phone calls for other, but this forum, not so much.  From a timing perspective, I'm almost 6 weeks out from chemo and a week out from surgery.  I guess time flies when I'm having fun.  Ha.ha.ha.  Actually it hasn't been all shit and anxiety, this whole process has been filled with countless good times too.

I guess I'll start with my last chemo and beyond and break this into two posts.  Because really, I am not writing a book and you all know I can get pretty wordy.  So my last chemo was pretty amazing as far as chemo goes.  I got to ring that fricking bell.  RING IT!  And hold the sign that said last chemo.  And kudos to one of my brother's BF's Brian who didn't have a bell to ring, but also finished his chemo in Cali just last week.  Way to go Downey, feels good to be on the road to recovery, eh?

The one chemo treatment that I really wanted Ryan to come with was my very last one so he graciously took the day off to keep me company.  And if memory serves, showed up with flowers to mark the occasion:).  There was no keeping my mom away either, pretty sweet.  So, the three of us roll in to meet with Daisy the oncology NP (super cool btw) and then head out to the infusion room as its called.  The room was quite empty, which was a little odd because so many weeks it's craziness in there.  As the treatment went on, friends kept showing up.  Nicky had planned to pick up Liz and Meg from school to bring them along, little did I know the whole Wesoloski clan came to celebrate, Dave and Wanda too which was awesome.  Nolan and AJ found out Meg, Liz, Brian and Nicky were going and were like why can't we go too, so they all got out of school a little early to celebrate.  Is there much better reason to miss an hour of school?  I think not!  My friend Jen and her daughter Olivia, my dad, my friend Serena and her mom Laurel from Point, Neil too.  We filled up that pod.  As I've mentioned before and will surely again, so much love to go around from people that were there and people that weren't, either way, I'm continually humbled.  One family noticeably missing and part of Ryan's family missing, but hey - they were enjoying the fun in the sun down south and I knew they were all there in spirit. 

Fox Valley Hematology & Oncology is building a new building off Ballard Road & 41.  There was a beam on display for patients and supporters to sign that will go up in a visible spot in the new location.  I think quite a few of us signed it, Nolan wanted to sign it right by me, pretty darn cute.  That cute little kid doesn't say much sometimes - at least when I'm around, but that little signature next to mine says more than anything. 

I would guess by now most of you know I enjoy a good beer or a bloody so we headed to a local establishment to celebrate.  My mom brought some awesomely obnoxious noise makers, thanks mom for those!  And some really cool hats.  Dana and Skyler joined us there too!  Jen's Chad too.  I would have loved to have a big party, but really not sure when I would have planned such a thing.  I'm sorta thinking that 40 is coming up in September and that's usually a good time for a party.  And dear Holzhauer family, pretty sure my driveway will fit a Holzhauer sized RV!  And if not my driveway, I'll find another suitable location:).  And damn, I cannot find that shot of Serena and I, there were lots more happy pictures taken, this is just a few.

On the night I found out I had cancer, Ryan the girls and I all spent the evening together, pretty sure I mentioned this a while ago or even a few times!  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was shell shocked.  Pretty sure Meg was too.  Ryan was like we got this.  That night, we had gone to Target to pick out a birthday gift for my nephew Cooper and then to Dick's to pick out breast cancer support tshirts, headbands, socks, really whatever for the girls.  They didn't have one in Morgan's size so I had it ordered on my phone before we got home.  In many moments, especially in that moment, I was so so glad to have all of us together as it totally, totally brought me comfort.  It felt normal.  So the night of my last chemo treatment I wanted to have dinner with the five of us just like the journey started.

So, a little hindsight on chemo as it relates to surgery and the rest of this stuff.  Chemo sucked, yes it did, but mine was manageable.  I think it was also made more manageable by the fact that I went into it fit and determined to not lose all my fitness.  Most Fridays I showed up for workout class feeling like I might puke.  But I showed up.  And always felt better after.  Every.single.time.  I always wanted to keep up with Chuck and Melissa and Dave said he always wanted to keep up with me.  I do know that Chuck kicked my ass, but you know what?  These last few months of my workout classes, holy crap, did I gain strength.  Way more than I had going into chemo, despite that pesky appendix thing.  Physical strength sure thing, to be expected if you push it enough - or let Melissa push you enough!  Always a little more surprising to me?  The emotional and mental strength from breaking my own barriers.  And hanging with my workout class friends.  Might as well call it a support group!  Heavier weights, yes, why not try.  What's the worse that can happen?  I have to go lighter, but if I don't try those 25s, I'll never know.  Maybe it was just the fact that all I could feel was sore and tired muscles, but whatever it was, it helped.  My Wednesday pre-chemo running efforts.  Sometimes it was effing cold, sometimes I didn't feel like I had time, sometimes I went short, sometimes, most of the time I went slow, but I fought my way through it just by putting one foot in front of the other.  And bundling up and taking walk breaks.  And being determined to not let cancer stop me from doing anything I set my mind to.  Pretty much every pre chemo run I cried.  Cried that I was able to do it, cried that I was counting down, cried just because I'm not sure why.  For me, working out makes me feel whole and strong and challenged.  I know that's not for everyone, but I think and hope you all have something in you or that you enjoy that makes you feel that way too.

Really just being determined to try to keep my life (Meg's too) as normal as possible...there was no way I was going to miss out on life's fun stuff for 5 months.  Really?  5 months of missing out?  No effing way.  I can't even imagine not having all the memories from the last six months.  Memories are what I live for.  Would have not wanted to miss out on those 5th grade basketball games and tournaments, Morgan's first basketball season, Taylor's teacher giving her a dirty look for wearing the check yourself shirt, all those girls wearing pink for their first game, Nolan and AJ wanting pink schwings, ski trips, family visits, Sunday morning bacon breakfasts, Sunday Fundays, growing friendships, new friendships, Meg's awesome support group, my mom crying (!), the support from all those 9, 10, 11, 12 and 13 year old girls and a few little boys I would be happy to call my own, support from unexpected places, Mabel's musings in paint, Taylor's musings in chalk, Megan's engagement, normalcy and steadfast support in the whole process, Aaron's daily phone calls for the first week or two, endless snapchats, my entire family's reaching out and checking up on me, Karl's goofy texts, Jody making dinner and me never missing an opportunity for it, Lizzy coming to my car door after every basketball practice and Brian following and my tears following that and this list could go on and on and on so please don't feel bad if I didn't mention something!

Amazingly in the few weeks since chemo ended, my energy totally rebounded.  Even though there were a few around me who could tell my energy wasn't what it had been pre-chemo, I felt pretty good about my energy during chemo.  Well...holy crap, being done a week or two was a whole new level.  It was just a few of little things that I noticed.  Less blowing my nose in the morning, less watery eyes, sweating more during work outs are just a few of the things that come to mind.  And holy crap, my hair is growing back.  It's more gray than before - or platinum if you see it in the right bar light and/or a few drinks in your blood system - but seems to be growing back with similar texture.  Time will tell, lots of time and I'm sure painful grow out phases, but I've got hair.  And I somehow managed to finish chemo with a few eyebrows, few eyelashes and all my fingernails intact.  Who knew that chemo can make your fingernails fall off? 

I'm curious how I'll feel a few years out from this part of the experience.  This part.  Because a week out from surgery, I already have had a whole new set of challenges - part 2 to come on this thing!  More than likely, it will all just blur together.  Related to the chemo, I'm not 100% sure just yet.  I guess what I have learned is that mental strength and determination is for real.  For real.  I think I started to realize it when I started running and racing regularly a few years ago, but not to this level.  Anyone that knows me knows that I do not ask for help well.  I'll just do it.  I'll just suck it up.  I'll just hold it in and figure it out as I go.  And this has forced me to ask for help - and still not always in a graceful manner.  Maybe not graceful at all!  And honestly, I think mostly help with emotional support.  For me, I think that's the hardest kind of help and support to ask for.  I'm humbled that kind of support comes at me when I feel most vulnerable.  I sure hope it's not because of cancer, but I look forward to my opportunities to give it forward just as people have given to and continue to support me along my journey.

Continually humbled,
p

Part 2 forthcoming...the anxious build up to surgery and what's followed in the week or two after.