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Posts Tagged ‘decisions’

Am I ready?

Posted in Alone, Cancer, chemotherapy, Decisions, family, Home, radiation, recovery, work, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 3, 2012| 2 Comments »

I asked to go back to work early. Was it the right thing? Who knows. It is how I am programmed. If I’m not in bed, I should be at work. Even as a child, when it was snowing really bad out but school wasn’t called off, my mom would tell me I could stay home anyway. But I wouldn’t – if school was in session, I was supposed to be there. People would claim to be sick to stay home from school or work, but that’s something my mom always warned me not to do – don’t ever lie and say you or anyone else is sick, or it might come true – simply bad karma (although I don’t think she used that word). So I never did.

I know, I know, I am sick. But I am off the painkillers and don’t take naps every day any more. I now feel well enough to leave the house, to shop, to go to dinner, to walk around the city (as my doctor’s have encouraged me to do – the healthier I am going into chemo, the better it will be for me). And if I feel well enough to do those things, why not go to work? Nick reminded me I was told I should take a minimum of six weeks, up to 12, to recover and I’ve only been out five. (I can’t even believe it’s only been five weeks – it feels like surgery was a lifetime ago.) But I think I can do it. And want to do it – for many reasons:

  • I love my job. I like what I do every day, the people I work with, our mission. It makes me happy. I miss it. And I feel guilty not being there (even though I know I shouldn’t).
  • Work distracts me from the cancer. Thinking about chemo. And going bald. I don’t want my life to be all consumed with it, although I know I can’t hide from it either.
  • I only have a total of 13 weeks of short-term disability at full pay. I would really love to stay in that and not slip to long-term disability (60% pay), which would make life difficult. And with at least one more surgery where I will be out one to two weeks and not knowing how I’m going to feel or how long I’ll need to be out each round of chemo and during radiation, I need to conserve my time.

I know I can’t let Workaholic Amy take over – I will need to take it slow (and know my colleagues and bosses will support this) and listen to my body, so that I can be strong and healthy through chemo. I will not be working my normal crazy hours. And I am actually not allowed to lug my laptop back and forth on the bus and T. I will be smart about this. I will pace myself – as Nick keeps reminding me to do. I will balance work with what I need to do for my health: continue physical therapy (I can now raise my hands straight up to the ceiling, sleep on my side with only a little pain and only take ibuprofen a couple of times a day rather than 24×7), go to all my doctor’s appointments, get plenty of rest, try to teach myself to eat right and exercise as much as I can.

So physically I think I can do it. And mentally I know it will distract me. Otherwise, I am nervous. I feel kind of like I did in September 1991 when I returned to high school for my senior year and was nine months pregnant. I remember walking in and down the hall, my red blazer barely buttoning around my giant belly. Mike, Jay and Mike were with me, both to support and to protect me, as I was scared of the looks I would get and the whispers around me. I know this isn’t the same, but I still feel somewhat like the circus freak show. I just want to be normal. And treated normal. It’s times like this I wish I was a little more private about my life so people wouldn’t know I had a bilateral mastectomy and cut my hair because soon I will be bald. Yes, I know, ironic, as I’m typing this into my blog. But I am doing that because I know this will help others who are going or will go through the same thing as me.  And if nothing else good comes out of this stupid cancer thing, I hope I am at least able to help a few people in this way.

So am I ready? I don’t know. But I guess I’ll find out…

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It’s only hair…

Posted in Alone, Boston, Cancer, Dating, Decisions, Denial, family, recovery, work, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 30, 2012| 16 Comments »

I cried a lot today. I guess a lot of things hit home. Now that we’re not at the hospital every day with Grampa, and the planning and service is over, I have been alone for the first time practically since before the surgery. I began getting somewhat back to normal during the weeks with family at Grampa’s bedside. I weaned myself off the painkillers and naps. I began physical therapy. I started walking more and more. Much of my strength has returned, now it’s working on endurance and regaining full range of motion in both arms. And so I got everyone to agree I can return to work next week – I can’t wait!

On the top of my to-do list is dealing with the issue most nagging me: my hair. From the moment I heard I had to have chemo, I knew I would cut it all off before it began to fall out. I said I’d have fun with it. Try something I hadn’t done before. I was gung-ho. Let’s do it! Then the day – today – arrived. And I wasn’t quite so eager…

Luckily, my favorite hairdresser is my friend Leane. She’s given me my best haircuts ever. And she was so sweet when she heard I was doing this and said she would be honored to cut it, under the condition that I not pay her. An incredible gift! So I knew I would be in good hands. And timing-wise, I wanted to do it both before Alivia left for London (tomorrow) and before my parents went back to Tennessee (Thursday). And before I started back to work.

But when we finally confirmed a time early this afternoon, I burst into tears. (Of course I was in a public place – Brigham and Women’s for PT – surrounded by strangers. Thank goodness for large, dark sunglasses!) I was so angry and sad! WTF?!?! First I lose my boobs and now my hair??? How unfair is that??? I finally, for practically the first time in my life, actually like my hair – not a normal thing for a woman. I waited a long time for this hair. I almost had it to where I liked it in November 2010 when I got a call for an interview at Genzyme. The career adviser I was consulting with told me I HAD to cut my hair short. That I looked much too young and no one would believe I was as experienced or trust me without a more polished, short ‘do. So I listened to her and had my hair cut at an expensive salon in Atlanta (where I currently was on my road trip). And I hated it! I did get the job, but I have the feeling I would’ve still been hired had my hair remained long.

Now a year and a half later, my hair is just the right length, with layers and body (and yes, a few more greys). And now I’m going to go bald. F@*$! Yes, I acted nonchalant, searching through magazines, asking other’s opinions, talking a good game. Really, I was stifling the screaming girl inside. And she busted out today.

I DON’T WANT MY HAIR SHORT!!! I DON’T WANT TO BE BALD!!!

Proven fact: Men prefer women with long hair. Oh, and boobs. I think in this case, two strikes means you’re out. What guy would want to be with a bald, boob-less woman???

But yet again, I don’t have a choice, do I?

I know psychologically I won’t be able to handle seeing my long strands falling out. And I don’t want to be one of those people who clings to her hair and attempts to comb over bald spots. So off it needed to come. And tonight it did.

I cried most of the drive to Tara’s house, where Leane was to cut it. Tina and Nicole (Tara’s friend from high school – not to be confused with my Nicole from high school) joined for moral support. We looked at a few hair styles and Leane asked which I preferred. “My hair. Long hair,” I whined. “Oh, I know honey…” all my friends chimed in with soothing voices. That made me realize I was acting like a child and had to just suck it up and do it. I took a deep breath and told her to do what she thought was best and chop it off. And she did.

And I love it. I really do. I knew she was the best woman for the job – thank you Leane! If I can’t have my long hair, this is the absolute best I could have in the interim. And best of all, I had exactly 10 inches cut off: the minimum amount needed to donate to Locks of Love. So my hair will be used to make a wig for a disadvantaged child who needs one. That’s way more important than being on my head!

So now it’s time to start looking at hats and wigs because in about a month, all this short hair will be gone, too. But I think I’ll go back to my denial and forget that for a few days and just enjoy my new ‘do…

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You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do

Posted in Cancer, Decisions, family, prayer, tagged , , , , , , , , on May 16, 2012| 6 Comments »

In a way, my grandfather and I are in somewhat similar places. We both have to do things we don’t want to do in order to live. Of course, right now, he doesn’t have any choice in the matter. I don’t really feel I have a choice, either, although I at least am fully aware of what is happening to me. With Grampa, we’re not really sure how much he understands.

It is still early, so soon after the stroke that they’ve classified as major/severe. He has had many ups and downs in the few days: shown signs of understanding by attempting thumbs up, wiggling his toes and nodding when mom asked if the shoulder that he fell on hurt; had some heart issues; now has pneumonia, which they are controlling; and exerted his frustration by one day pulling the tubes out of his mouth/stomach and the next pulling out his catheter. Sometimes he looks at us like what the heck are we doing, prolonging his life by letting them do all this, but we’ve told him, he’s really breathing on his own and we haven’t done any special life-saving measures, because we know he doesn’t want that. We just want what is best for him, and if he is here, to be comfortable and to have hope that he can completely come back.

It will be a long time until we know for sure the extent of the brain damage, which they say could be extensive. He doesn’t always respond in the same way I mentioned before, but we know sometimes it’s just Grampa – if he doesn’t like a witchy nurse or uptight doctor, he won’t do a thing for them, and then when someone he likes asks him to do something, he tries and sometimes succeeds! It is all in God’s hand – and up to Grampa’s will. So we take it one day at a time, and they tell us that it could be weeks, even months like this. We have a big family, many who are here (I’m writing this from Beth Israel) every day, and we will soon probably start to rotate so someone is with him every day, but not everyone. We are thankful my older brother Steven, who lives in Florida, has joined us for a few days. He is a respiratory therapist in a trauma center and has been able to translate quite a bit for us – and catch some things others haven’t.

For me, I thought the worst was over, but now I’m thinking I’m wrong. At my appointments yesterday (how convenient Dana Farber is across the street from Beth Israel?) we learned that I am not quite as lucky as I thought I’d be. I thought cutting off both my breasts would do the trick. And it did, from what they can tell. However, because of the cancer found in my lymph nodes and my being young for this, I need to have all the follow-up treatments: chemo, radiation AND tamoxifen. Ugh.

I am not happy, but I’m also not about to fight it. I figure I have done everything so far to make sure I never have to deal with cancer again, I am not going to stop now. I’ve already begun regaining my strength – the daily hospital visits to see Grampa and family have helped both my mind and body. Next Tuesday I start physical therapy to really get full range of motion back in my arms, and that day I also meet with the reconstructive surgeon and may begin the expansions, depending how I’m healing (although breast surgeon says it’s looking good).

The following Tuesday the real fun will start. Chemo. That will be most of the day, and then I will have one day of chemo, every three weeks for four rounds. After that, I will have a few weeks off and then start radiation, Monday through Friday, for five weeks. And then Tamoxifen for five years. I know I said it before, but ugh.

What I understand from others is that chemo won’t be too bad at first, and then will get worse each round. The first time I may be sick for a day, the second round for two or three days, the third round for a few days to a week and the final round for a week or two. But everyone is different and I already have prescriptions for meds to combat the nausea and other bad side effects. What is really hitting home is the fact that I will lose all my hair – probably about a month from now, around two weeks into treatment. Argh! It took me so long to grow it, and I actually like it now. Not fair! But what among this IS fair?

I guess what is fair is that I get to live. I was lucky enough to find the lump, pretty much just in time before it spread further, and so what, I had to have a bilateral mastectomy? I do get two new ones, eventually. So what that it’s painful, I’m limited for a while and I have to go through PT? At least I’m young and strong enough to  push through it. So what if I have to go through those treatments and lose my hair? They will eventually be over, there are drugs to combat the side effects and my hair will grow back. And I actually, unlike Grampa, get to plan this all out and understand what I am facing. So I actually think I have a lot to be thankful for…

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