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Archive for the ‘Discovery’ Category

The Healing Garden

Posted in Alone, Cancer, chemotherapy, Decisions, Discovery, family, lymphedema, prayer, radiation, recovery, tagged , , , on February 5, 2013| Leave a Comment »

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I was called into the Healing Garden at Dana-Farber today. Not literally, but something beckoned me to go through those doors, although I haven’t been since my very first visit to this facility last March. And the second I walked in and felt the peacefulness wash over me, between the lush garden, sweet scent of greenery, subtle lighting and bird musac in the background, the floodgates opened. Clearly I don’t mesh well with relaxing and peacefulness – another thing I need to work on.

I know it was – is, as I’m still sitting here amongst the flowers and the tears writing this blog entry on my iPhone – more than that, though. It is remembering that first time here, how scared and clueless I was about what really lay ahead. It is mourning the person I was before I stepped through these doors. It is the wondering about the different path my life could’ve taken if I hadn’t discovered that lump – and the people that may’ve still been in it – for better or worse. And sitting here, looking through the bamboo branches, out the window at the hospital across the street where we kept vigil for days and then lost my grandfather, in the midst of it all, just 8 months ago. It is the fact that this is the last time I will be here (barring any more lymphedema flair ups) for four whole months. And while that is something to celebrate – as is finally being ‘even’ again after today’s procedure (which really hurts but is worth it) – it is also hard. As change always is, even when it’s for the better.

But I will adjust. I am still struggling to figure out who this post-treatment me is. And I will get there. Maybe I just need a little more time in some healing gardens…

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A fresh start – almost

Posted in Cancer, connections, Dating, Discovery, family, hair, Home, Planning, radiation, work, tagged , , , , , , , on January 1, 2013| 6 Comments »

It is officially the new year. 2013. I couldn’t be happier to say goodbye to 2012, easily the worst year of my life. But in really looking at it, I don’t think it was necessarily 2012 – I think it may have  been 38. You see, 2012 really seemed more like a continuation of 2011. It just flowed over, so that 2012 was like 2011 Part 2. At work we were in the midst of intense preparation for our planned shutdown all winter, and then personally I was looking forward to an early January first date – so all those things continued from 2011 into 2012, making it kind of one big year.

Then I turned 38 in February – and I thought things would be different. Oh, and different they were! I was starting to see someone whose life is as crazy as mine (recipe for disaster), we spent Valentine’s night in the hospital, and then, of course, in March I found the lump. Pretty much all downhill from there. So that means (to me) 38 was to blame, not 2012.

Don’t get me wrong, 2013 feels incredible – there is a hope in the air that wasn’t there before. An excitement that you can feel. Things will be better! So many people had a bad year – I’ve never seen so many people clamoring for a fresh start – that this is good for everyone! And in one month I will turn 39. I will be done with radiation. I’ll have my left breast re-expanded so I can be even again, and THAT will be my real fresh start!

And 39 is my number, always has been. My birthday is on the 9th, I’ve always liked things in threes, always prefered odd numbers to even, and 1939 was a fabulous year: they made Gone With the Wind AND The Wizard of Oz, two of my favorite movies. I’ve always looked forward to being 39 (strange, I know), and now even more so.

2013/39 is going to be the year of ME. Sounds rather selfish, I know, but I need it. How can I be any good for anyone else if I’m not happy with me? So I’m going to get healthy – in mind, body and spirit. No extreme diets, joining a new gym or setting unrealistic resolutions. Simply getting back to eating better, running and finding a way to get a good night’s sleep. Growing my hair, eyelashes and eye brows. Losing the chemo weight. Of course I have other goals in mind, relating to work, volunteering, travel, relationships – but they really aren’t achievable unless I’m healthy and happy, so that has to come first.

So that is my wish for all of you, my dear friends and family: good health and happiness. Every day is a new opportunity for a fresh start, whether it’s January 1, your birthday, the first of the month or just a Monday – you can seize any day to start over and become the person you want to be. Happy 2013 – make it the year of you!

Silly, spiky hair after my first run of the new year - but at least it's hair!

Silly, spiky hair after my first run of the new year – but at least it’s hair!

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The Never-ending Saga

Posted in Cancer, chemotherapy, Decisions, Discovery, family, lymphedema, Planning, radiation, recovery, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 14, 2012| 4 Comments »

I can be very stubborn. (I can hear the laughs and see the nods of agreement!) But I will listen, particularly when someone is using terms like “survival rate,” and it’s hard to argue with statistics.

Mom and I both went into this morning’s meeting with the radiation oncologists at Dana-Farber inclined to “just say no.” I was fairly sure I knew what the rates they’d quote would be, based on our initial discussion many months ago. What I didn’t realize was how much things changed when my specific details were factored in post-surgery. Everything from (you guessed it) my “young” age and the size of my tumor to the fact that it had spread to my lymph nodes and there was lymphovascular invasion (LVI) influence the recommended treatment.

So what convinced me? The numbers. The fact that right now my chance of recurrence is approximately 15% and by doing the radiation it brings down the chance of recurrence to 5-7% . That’s a lot more than the 3% improvement I was expecting. I can say no to a 3% improvement – but 7-10%? Even as much as I want this all to just be done, I can’t ignore that.

Tuesday is my last chemo session. But it’s not the end I wanted. It’s like the end of the last chemo session – it’s just the conclusion of another chapter in this never-ending saga. In the next week I will have to go to Dr. H and have him partially deflate my left tissue expander so it won’t get in the way of the radiation. Then the Thursday after Thanksgiving I’ll go in for the radiation planning session where they’ll tattoo marks on me to make sure they radiate the right area each day.

Yes, each day. Monday through Friday for five weeks – 25 sessions. Luckily they will only be a few minutes each time, so I will be able to continue to work through it. The biggest side effects are continued fatigue, redness and soreness. And, since my lymph nodes were removed, the increased risk that the radiation could trigger lymphedema. (I will be praying about that one – really don’t want that!)

And the biggest bummer of it all for me? Postponing the surgery I was supposed to have on January 2. I thought I’d start 2013 with surgery and pretty much be done, but now I’ll be doing radiation and have to wait six more months to switch out the tissue expanders for implants. Then a few months after that will be the nipple surgery and then a few months after that will be the tattooing. Oh – and then the five years of tamoxifen. It really is the never-ending saga…

But it’s worth it. To do everything I can to be cancer free. To fight every step of the way. To not have to look back and wonder, “if only I…” because I have, in fact, done everything within my power to get rid of it and prevent it from coming back. So I can continue to wake up each morning, breathe in and breathe out, and thank God for another day.

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