More Thoughts

It is amazing how things change.  A month ago the thought of surgery sent shivers down my spine and sent me into midnight sobs.  I shuddered at the word "radiation" and I put up impenetrable walls between me and the 2nd worst "C word" (chemotherapy).  Over time, 'radiation' has become part of what will just happen and I now have to try and think through those walls and decide what I believe will be best for me.  

Thoughts of being on a drug for 5 years....incredible!  I will possibly be retired from teaching by then. 

What if I were traveling and got robbed and they got my anti-cancer drug?  Would I be ok for a month without it? 

Another Glitch

31 October 08

Another hard decision just plopped into my lap.  The amazing onco test came back and I was put into an 'Intermediate Risk' category.  This means there is a 13% chance that this specific cancer will recur....which also means there is an 87% chance that it will STAY OUT of my body!  Chemotherapy could increase that by about 5% to a 92% chance of keeping out. 

I can't put the decision into someone else's lap now.  If I were high risk, it would be horrid, but the decision would have been made.....chemo would be a given (along with radiation for 5-6 weeks and hormone therapy for 5 years).  If I had been low risk, I would have only needed radiation and hormone therapy....chemo wouldn't have been beneficial to me and the whooping and hollering could have begun.

There is a clinical trial available that randomizes me and puts me into either a chemo, radiation, hormone therapy group or a radiation, hormone therapy group.  It would be good info for future generations, but it puts the decision about my life into the hands of "The Randomizers".  

So....here it is.....sitting in my lap......waiting.....

Good News With a Glitch

Two days before my 48th birthday I had the first surgery of my life.  My breast was injected 5 times with a radioactive dye (THAT HURT), I waited for 2 hours with 3 wonderful friends while the dye made its way through my lymph system, they put me under, and then a geiger counter was used to find the path of the dye....kind of cool and 'sciency', although it would have been cooler had I just read about it!

The good news is that the cancer had not entered my lymph nodes!  

The glitch is that the margins were not as good as the surgeon wanted.  She wanted to see a rim of clean tissue surrounding the cancer that was 2 millimeters.  On one of the edges, it was only 1.5 millimeters.  Half a millimeter never seemed like that much before.

What does this mean?  

*Discuss more surgery.  One of my feelings is "Can't you just go in and dig more out?"

*Discuss chemotherapy.  The second worst "C" word!

*Radiation is a given.

A piece of Hope:

A sample of my tissue was sent off to a lab in San Francisco for an Oncotype test.  This is pretty amazing (and 'sciency' again...although my feelings about preferring to just read about it remain the same).  This test will tell me if chemotherapy will benefit my type of cancer.  If you are interested in reading more about it, you can go to www.genomichealth.com.

The test results should come back this week. 

Thanks for all the wonderful thoughts.

Thanks for wearing purple!

Navigation

As I navigate through the alleys of 'cancer', I am approached and often overwhelmed by many emotions.  Tears of disbelief catch me as I round foreign corners.  Laughter also pulls me when I am in the midst of friends or my 7th graders.  The nights of lying awake have lessened....for now.  

A Different Adventure

A year ago I was gallivanting across Greece, moseying through Madagascar, inhaling Italy, attempting the tango and preparing to play with penguins in Antarctica.  What a wonderful adventure it was.

I always take a DEEP breath as I pass through customs in a foreign land.  Big glass windows look out on the unknown as I make my way through crowds of waiting, anticipation, tears and foreign language that pave the way to the next adventure.  The "adventure" I'm wading through at this point is breast cancer.  I was diagnosed on September 18th.  At this point, it looks like it is small (9mm) and contained.  The MRI looks like it hasn't spread.  I'm hopeful and positive but won't know much more until they pull outs the lump and check my lymph nodes which will happen this Monday.  In the meantime, I'm indulging myself in kale (yup, I make it SPICY), superfoods, exercise and everything I can to help myself with a speedy recovery!  

Just like walking through those crowds in some funky airport in a tucked away corner of the world, I'm seeing the light of hope shine through those windows along with the waiting, the anticipation, the tears and the foreign language of 'cancer'.  The big difference is that I have each of YOU who are SO dear to me sending your warmth, hugs, good 'juju', light and love.  

Please take a deep breath for me and wear purple....I'm not really into pink.

Thanks....and MUCH love to each of you