My Hero

The past several days have not been good ones.  

Gerry got sick the night before my first chemo - cold shivers, hot sweats - and neither one of us thought to mention it to my oncologist when I went for my treatment last Monday.  So, I had my chemo and ended up picking up his sick, and this past week Gerry have been taking turns trying to out-sick each other with fevers, chills, muscle aches, nausea, etc.  

Well, I am pleased to say.  I won.  

You know.  

Because Cancer.

I ended up in the emergency department on Saturday after having spiked an early morning fever of 102.3.  

Of course, by the time either Gerry or myself were in the coherent position to get me to the hospital, I had managed to take a dose of motrin which brought my fever down.  However, blood tests at the hospital revealed that I am neutropenic so a handshake from a friendly old man or a hug from a snot nosed baby could potentially kill me.  Okay..maybe a tad dramatic, but still nothing you want to mess around with.

So they sent me home with a couple of heavy duty antibiotics and instructions to follow up with my oncologist on Monday for more blood work to see how the counts are by then.  

I haven't felt any better, since, really.

I'm still cycling through episodes of hot sweats, and cold chills.  So the furnace is up and down.  I'm whining for more blankets to be piled on me or to be pulled off.  I'm shooting off requests for hot chicken broth or tea, cold Vernors or popsicles.  

In my wake, I leave a trail of messes from dirty sweat soaked blankets, to dirty dishes, to lids I forgot to put back on food containers, or even food left out in our bacteria breeding kitchen overnight when  it should have been put away in the fridge.  

And aside from a couple of typical comical quips, Gerry has followed behind me making sure I was covered when I was cold.  Making sure my soda was cold when I was hot.  Putting away the things I left out.  Washing the loads and loads of laundry and dishes ALL THE WHILE HE HAS BEEN SICK TOO.

In between his shivering rounds under the piles of blankets, or moments of him stripping off sweaty clothes, his headaches, muscle aches, and achy aches, he has kept up with making sure everything around here didn't totally fall to shit.  Which is exactly what I would have done.  

Let everything fall to shit, that is.

Right now he is out at the grocery store, still feeling like crap himself, to pick up some yogurt and good bread so I can eat something.  Before he left, he bleached down the kitchen, stripped the bed, brought some dirty clothes to the basement, cuddled the cat, and asked if there was anything else I needed before he left.  

I said no, and then suddenly felt this OVERWHELMING wave of LOVE and GRATITUDE for this man who says he wants to spend the rest of his life with me.  

This man who, despite feeling like death himself, has still managed to take care of me when I needed it.  

I tried to tell him how thankful and appreciative I was of all he has done for me, and his response was typical Gerry.

"Shut. It."

But I am so VERY VERY thankful and appreciative that not only the Universe lined up our paths in a way so we would meet, but also because I get to BE LOVED by someone like him.

This shit is real, people!!  Amazing, wonderful, fantastical love is for real.  And I have it :)

So, Thank you Universe for one of the greatest gifts I could ever be gifted, but mostly Thank You Gerry for being the wonderful, caring, loving, gracious, fantastic man that you are.  

I am so very, very lucky.

I love you.

Treatment #1

Yesterday I had my first chemo treatment, and I will receive 15 more over the course of the next 20 weeks.

Although I had done a bunch of research on what to expect, and had even had a teaching session with the nurse last Friday, I was still nervous about what to expect.  Everyone reacts a little different. 

I know that I will lose my hair.  Likely sometime between my 2^nd and 3^rd treatment.

I can expect to feel lots of fatigue. 

Perhaps some nausea.

A change in appetite.

Food will start to taste funny.

I may develop mouth sores.

I may lose my fingernails and lose feeling in my fingertips.

I don’t like NOT KNOWING how things will be for me, though, and if there is ANY anxiety about any of the side effects, it’s mostly because I just don’t know what I will be experiencing.  So yesterday, when I went in for my first treatment I monitored how I felt throughout the three hours I was there. 

Chemo started out with the administration of five premedications over 45 minutes:

• ·         Ativan – helps with nausea/vomiting
• ·         Aloxi – helps with nausea/vomiting
• ·         Emend – helps with nausea/vomiting
• ·         Pepcid – for heartburn
• ·         Decadron – a steroid to help with inflammation

After the premeds were completed, I was then given my first chemo medication, Adriamycin a.k.a. The Red Devil.  This was a manually administered medication, pushed from two large syringes into the IV that was connected to my port, over the course of 15 minutes.  After that I was given the other chemo medication, Cytoxan, via an IV bag drip over the course of one hour. A quick flush of my port and removal of the Huber needle after that, and I was good to go. 

After my chemo, I had a Neulasta injector attached to my abdomen.  This is a medication that when administered, will stimulate my bone marrow to produce more white blood cells, to help keep my count up. When it is first applied, a needle injects a plastic cannula into my abdomen, and then after a period of 27 hours, it “turns on” again and administers the medication over a period of 45 minutes.  Fifteen minutes after that, I remove it and put it aside to dispose of back at the doctor’s office. 

I felt great after chemo.  No nausea, no fatigue.  Just my normal self.  My Dad, who drove up from lower Michigan on Sunday to surprise me, picked me up and we swung by Walgreens on our way home to pick up my prescriptions for some additional anti-nausea medications.  I was hungry when I got home, so I made myself a small salad with swiss cheese, ham, and balsamic vinaigrette dressing.  A few bites in to my salad my skin started crawling and I felt really jumpy.  I thought maybe it was a reaction to the Decadron.  I was warned that it might even keep me from being able to sleep that night, and steroids do tend to give people a sensation of having extra energy, so I thought that was what I was feeling.  However, shortly after the crawling sensation began, I suddenly felt really, really cold.  Hard shivers that made my muscles ache.  I managed to change into my thermals, flipped on the fireplace, and buried myself under a couple of warm blankets. I also took a couple of Motrin, and eventually the shivering settled down.  For the rest of the evening I cycled through feeling nauseous, hot flashes, feeling fine, but mostly feeling exhausted.  I am not totally convinced that all of what I was feeling was from the chemo, though.  Most of what I have read states that side effects really don’t show up until day three or four after chemo – after the chemo drugs have cycled through your body and have been excreted.  Gerry had not been feeling the greatest the couple of days before my treatment, and the night before he had the shivers and sweats, so I wonder if I was experiencing some of that.  So, still not sure what to expect, but I’m hoping it’s not too miserable.  If I could sleep through it all, that would be FANTASTIC!  I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!

Contrary to what the nurse said about the Decadron possibly keeping me up at night, I was in by 7:45pm and I am sure I was out by 7:50pm.  I slept pretty well, all things considered.  Up a couple of times to use the bathroom.  One of the things I was told was to make sure I empty my bladder as often as possible.  Both the chemo meds are excreted through urine within 48 hours, but because Cytoxan can break down the lining of the bladder, you are encouraged to urinate as often as possible to make sure it doesn’t sit in your bladder to long.

I did wake up at 3:00am this morning.  I tried getting back to sleep, but it just wasn’t happening, so I finally got up at 3:30 and settled myself in the recliner and did a little reading of different forums on Breast Cancer sites about side effects, good smoothie recipes, and whatever else I found interesting, from whatever other women who have gone through similar situations.

I made some toast, ate a banana, and when my dad woke up and joined me, I made us both coffee. 

I feel pretty good this morning, overall.  A little tired, maybe, but honestly that is not out of the ordinary for me.  I don’t remember the last time I didn’t feel tired.  Sometime before I had children, I am sure.

Before my Dad left back for Lower Michigan this morning, he made sure to remind me to not do anything too taxing.  “Energy reserving activities” was his suggestion, which I will have to make a point to listen to.  Though, after he left, I remembered it was garbage day today, so I rushed to get the trash and recycling bins out to the street, and I felt absolutely drained afterwards.  So yeah.  I must remember my energy levels are not where they normally would be, so taking it easy is a good idea.  That means I’ll be working on simple projects today; folding some laundry, taking naps, and crocheting some dishcloths. 

I am still nervous about what to expect over the next couple of days, but I am thankful for the resources I have available to me, and even more thankful for the people in my life who are willing to lend a hand should I need it.  I can’t even begin to express how wonderful it has been to have so many people, from my co-workers, to my instructors and classmates at Bay, and of course my family, who have all been willing to step in and help me in any way they can.  It has made this situation so much more manageable to handle, and I am so very, very thankful for it.

I really have so much to be thankful for.  I really am blessed.  More than I ever knew.

Mediport placement.

In order to spare the wear and tear on the veins in my arms, I opted to have a mediport put it.  

It's kind of a neat device.  I have the Vaccess* CT Power-Injectable port, which is placed subcutaneously on the right side, and a line runs from it up into my jugular vein and then down to my heart.  

It's a weird feeling knowing that it's there, but I know that it will make getting the chemo medications much easier.  Kari had one put in when she had her chemo treatments, so I knew the nurses appreciate it when their patients get a port.  

I have a chemo education session with one of the nurses tomorrow.  I've been reading up on the medications I will be getting, so I am somewhat prepared, but I have a few questions still.

Only four more days until my first chemo treatment.  

My biggest anxiety is not knowing how I will feel after the treatment.  Most of what I have read indicates I won't feel too bad the first couple of days afterwards, but then it hits you about the 3rd or 4th day.  But it's different for everyone, so that freaks me out not knowing how it's going to turn out for me.  

Happy Thanksgiving!!

I had a lovely Thanksgiving this year.  Usually I stress myself out with all the prep I do, making sure my menu is perfect, doing it all myself, and even getting a little irritated when someone asks if they can bring something to help out.  I'm a bit of a control freak, so instead of being thankful for the help being offered, I take it as an insult that I'm not capable of doing it ALL myself.

This year, I delegated, though.  We did the ham & turkey, mashed potatoes, and I made some homemade Parker House rolls.  Ben made a delicious creamed corn, and Beth made some tasty roasted brussel sprouts.  Miranda made her Almost Famous Deviled eggs.  Kari brought a fresh veggie tray. 

I got to actually sit down and watch the football game, even though they lost, I don't remember the last Thanksgiving I was able to do that!  After dinner, we all gathered at the table and played a couple of games.  It was really fun.  We all had a good time. 

The best part?  There was no conversation about my cancer. 

No questions about upcoming appoints or treatments.  No talk about future plans.  Just enjoying each others company. 

It reminded me how much I have to be thankful for and how blessed I really am.

Kari turns 21!!!

Top Photo:  Me, Miranda, Josh, Kari,
Bottom left: Me and Kari, Bottom right: Me, Beth, Holly, Kari

My baby girl turned 21 today!  How did that happen???

My sister, Beth, and I met up with her, Miranda, and Holly down at Jackson's Pit where both Uncle Ben, and Big Brother Joshua work.   We had a couple of drinks with her before leaving her behind to enjoy the rest of her birthday with her friends.  

Of course, I had to give her the lecture about being responsible and not drinking and driving, and she took it well.  I tried not to be annoying about it.  

I am glad I was able to spend some time with her tonight.  💗💗💗💗

New development

Dr. Edwards, the surgeon who did my lumpectomy and who would be doing my mastectomy, called me today.  He wanted to discuss the nipple sparing procedure Dr. Taylor and I discussed.

He doesn't think I am a good candidate for the procedure.

For one, he said he has only been present for a nipple sparing mastectomy ONCE and that was during his residency years before.  Also, because of the location of my tumor, and the fact that my cancer was microfocal, he said I would increase my risk of a recurrence of the cancer.  Plus there are always the other risks, like poor blood supply to the nipples, which would then lead to nipple necrosis, yadda yadda. 

Ultimately, he said if I wanted to do a nipple sparing mastectomy, he would refer me to the Mayo Clinic.  He would not participate, unless I chose a regular mastectomy with reconstruction.  

To be honest, I had thought about asking for a referral there anyway.  Now that I am having chemo first, I have time to explore other reconstruction options.  There is plenty of time, so I said sure thing.  His office will send the referral and get back with me when they have an appointment date for me.

I think this will be a good move.  

Everything is just great.

I have decided to do a double mastectomy with reconstruction.  Because I wanted reconstruction, I needed to meet with Dr. Taylor, who is the plastic surgeon here who does immediate breast reconstruction after mastectomies.  Daniele was able to get me scheduled with him on Thursday, along with another appointment with Dr. Seimers so we could discuss what I could expect with the chemotherapy I'd be getting after the surgery.

The appointment with Dr. Taylor went well.  He actually presented me with a different sort of reconstruction, that they have not yet done at the hospital, so I would be the guinea pig.  What they currently do at my facility is at the time of the mastectomy, expanders are placed under the pectoral muscle to stretch out the tissue to make room for implants to be placed later on down the road.  What Dr. Taylor proposed was instead of placing expanders right away, I would go back to him two weeks after my mastectomy and he would then place the implants at that time, on top of the pectoral muscle instead of below it.  He explained that it would also make for a more natural looking breast, and there is a lower chance of capsular contracture.  This would be a skin and nipple sparing procedure.  It all sounded good, so I said lets do it. 

Dr. Taylor said he would touch base with Dr. Edwards, and we could likely get me scheduled in the next couple of weeks.  He would talk to him about doing the new procedure and we'd get the ball rolling.  I left the appointment feeling pretty positive and upbeat.  Even though I would be having major surgery and then several weeks of chemotherapy, it felt good to have a plan again.  

Since I didn't meet with Dr. Siemers for another hour or so, I popped in and visited my good friend, Martin.  Talked with him a bit about what was going down.  Got a couple of great hugs from him, and reassured him that I was doing fine and I had confidence that everything was going to turn out just fine.  

Isn't that how it always goes when you talk to people about serious life events?  Of course they are concerned about you, and want to help out somehow, but they don't know what to really do or even say to you.  So, you have to put on the impression that you've got it all under control.  It's fine.  Swell.  Just peachy!  But the truth is you don't know really what you are going to do or what to say either.  So conversation becomes an awkward dance where both parties are trying their best to not step on each others toes.

Anyway, after visiting with Martin I made my way to Dr Siemers office.  We talked about my conversation with Dr. Taylor and he asked what the timeline was, as far as when I would have having the surgery.  Daniele told him probably middle to end of November for the Stage One (mastectomy) and then two weeks after that for Stage Two (implant placement).  He started doing some calculating and said "Well, I hate to put a wrench in your plans, but that's just not going to work out."  Basically, because it would be anywhere from 2-3 weeks before I could get Stage One done, 2 weeks later for Stage Two, and then around 6 weeks to heal, I'd be pushing chemo back until the beginning of the year.  Because my cancer is Grade III (most aggressive) he didn't want me to wait that long for fear it might end up spreading beyond my lymph nodes.  

So, the plans I had tentatively set only an hour before, were tossed out the window and I was being shuffled back to schedule my mediport placement, as well as my first chemo treatment.

Before I left, Daniele told me how she was very impressed with my optimism and felt that I was one of those people who knew how to make the best of a tough situation, which is not incorrect.  

"You are going to come out of this whole situation with a better idea of how strong you are, and how capable you are, I can see you doing something great with this experience."

Of course, I want to believe this, but that's a lot of pressure right now.  My head is still kind of spinning from all the changes that have occurred over a relatively short period of time, and I just need time to process it all.  

I got home and tried to not think about all the information I had to process, but that proved to me difficult that I anticipated.  It seemed like every time I tried to do something other than think about my day, my mind would start racing, my breathing rate would increase, could feel my heart rate increasing.  I kept telling myself to calm down and relax, but I started breathing faster and feeling terribly off.  Thankfully, I had had the mind enough, the week prior, to see my family doctor about a prescription for Xanax, so I grabbed one of those and threw it back and then laid on the sofa to wait until the medication kicked in.

I have never felt anything like that before, and can only describe as what I would assume to be a panic attack, brought on by all the all the information from my visits, as well as everything else that had come down with it.  I had to give up my seat in the nursing program.  Because of all the class time I had missed so far, and the upcoming classes I would be missing, I would have to look into getting Incompletes for the semester.  It was all just too much.

The meds did kick in and I was able to calm down and feel better for the rest of the evening.  

So the plan at this time is to get my mediport placed on November 30th, and I will be starting Chemotherapy on December 4th.  It's going to be a wild ride, but maybe Daniele is right.  Maybe I will be able to make something great out of this.  Maybe I will learn just how strong I really am.  

There is always a silver lining.  Sometimes it's hard to see, but it's always there.

You can't schedule cancer.

The results of the lumpectomy I had on October 30^th came back with news I was not expecting.  

• Positive margins still on the breast tissue they removed from around the tumor 
• The tumor they removed was 5x larger than what showed up on imaging
• Tumors were found in both the sentinel nodes they took out for testing
• I went from a Grade II to a Grade III in the aggressiveness of the cancer.  Grade III is the most aggressive.

I received this news just two days after receiving my acceptance letter from the Bay College Nursing Department.  I was set to begin my clinicals in January and continue moving forward towards my degree.

My reaction, when Dr. Edwards gave me the news, was “Oh wow.  That’s unexpected.” Followed by an uncontrollable welling of tears and a wave of heat and electricity that ran through my body from the top of my head to my toes.

Inside my head I was screaming “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” at the Universe.  “Can't I get a break??  Just once???”

When I was first diagnosed and met with Dr. Edwards, the general surgeon, it was assumed everything had been caught early enough that a lumpectomy would easily get the cancer out, and I’d just have some radiation to follow up and all would be done by the end of the year.   That's how I wanted it to happen, because at that point I was expecting that I would be accepted to the nursing program and I didn't want anything to interfere. 

At least, that’s how it was supposed to happen.

However, life rarely goes as planned, and when you throw something like cancer in the mix, it makes it even more unpredictable. 

All the plans had changed from what they were the week prior.  

Instead of the radiation I was expecting after the lumpectomy, chemotherapy was definitely on the table now.  I had to decide if I wanted to let Dr. Edwards go back in for a re-excision of my breast to see if he could get the rest of cancer, or to opt for a mastectomy.  If I went with a mastectomy I needed to decide if I wanted to just take the left breast, or if I wanted to a double mastectomy, and if I would want breast reconstruction.

I left the appointment, made it to my car, and broke down in tears in the parking lot.  All the stress and tension that had built up from the day I had been first diagnosed, a month and a half prior, finally surfaced and I sat there and I sobbed uncontrollably.  I had been holding so much of my fears and worries inside me, in order to not be a burden to others, but the news I had just received was too much to hold in.  I cried for a good 15 minutes, not caring if anyone saw me.  I just needed to get it all out.

After my tears ran dry, I gathered myself together and called Gerry.  He asked if I was okay.  I said I wasn't.  He told me to go home and take it easy.  I told him that's what I was planning on doing.  I called my chemistry instructor to let him know I wasn't coming to class that day.  I went home and sat on my sofa with my laptop and began to feverishly research the pros and cons of re-excision vs. mastectomy.  I researched breast construction.  I researched chemo for breast cancer.  

Gerry called and told me he was coming home early and did I want to go for lunch.  I said yes.  I needed to get my mind off of the news and focus on more pleasant things.  We went to Elizabeth's Chop House, had a couple of martini's with our lunch and then came home.  

Ironically, later that evening I cracked open a beer, and sat down to finish watching the NBC nightly new with Lester Holt, and he begins reporting on the connection between breast cancer and women who are moderate drinkers.  

I dumped my beer out.

Well Fuck.

 You know that feeling when you go see your surgeon for your follow-up exam for the lumpectomy he did to remove the breast cancer you were diagnosed with, and he tells you that the margins on the tissue removed indicated that he didn't quite get it all?  And then he tells you that the two sentinel nodes that were removed, and tested, both came back positive for cancer?  So now you have to decide if you want him to remove more tissue to see if he can get the rest of the cancer, or if he should just do a full on mastectomy.

So.  That was my Tuesday morning.

There is no feeling quite like that rush through your body that you get when you receive bad news like that.  I really thought that everything was going to come back with clean margins and a negative pathology.  Instead, Dr. Edwards told me that the tumor was much larger than what showed up on the imaging.  Originally it was between 7-8mm, but the tumor they removed was 38mm.  Also, on this pathology report, the Nottingham grade came back as a stage 3, which means it's an aggressive cancer.  He said there was a 25% chance that it has spread to other lymph nodes, and then there is the increased chance that it has gone beyond the nodes.

I will have to have chemotherapy.  Maybe some radiation still...I can't quite remember.  And because of all this new information, as well as not wanting to deal with the possibility that MAYBE it could come back again someday, I have decided to do a double mastectomy with reconstruction.  My surgery could be as soon as next Friday, the 17th of November.  

Last week, the plan was lumpectomy and radiation, then start nursing school in the winter.  Now it's surgery, recovery, chemotherapy for 4 months, possible radiation, and no nursing school. 

Life is so very very unpredictable.

Being Strong When I Don't Have Any Strength Left

I can't sleep tonight. My whole body is sore, I did something to my neck over the weekend so not matter how I lay my head, I am uncomfortable. And then there is the fact that my left breast (Cancer Breast) has been aching the last couple of days, and yesterday in the shower I was kind of poking around and I swear that the tumor has grown...significantly. THe docs told me there would be some scar tissue left behind after the biopsy, and I could feel that the first couple of weeks after. It was just a small lump, though. Now it is so much bigger, and even seems to be making my left breast swell some. I was laying on my back tonight and was comparing the shape of both my breasts as I laid there. Usually, they flatten out and fall to the side a bit -- all perkiness gone. Well, tonight the right side followed suit, but the left side was just a little fuller than it should be. Like, it wasn't flat-as-a-pancake; it was more like the top of a cupcake that's fallen a little after being taken out of the oven. Know what I mean??

So, now I can add ten-thousand more worrisome thoughts to the already one-hundred million worrisome thoughts taking up brain space. I shouldn't worry about it until I can talk to the doctors office tomorrow. My lumpectomy is on Monday, but if the cancer has grown/spread, then maybe a lumpectomy isn't the best way to go. In which case, my decision would be either a bi-lateral or double mastectomy. This is why I can't NOT worry about it, because that changes SO MANY things...the type of surgery, time spent in the hospital, recovery time, etc. It was so easy when I first met with Dr. Edwards...it all fit easily into a neat little, planned package that I could present to anyone who asked and say "YEs! It's all going to be just fine! See? I have it all planned out!!"

I hope I am just stressing out over nothing. It's just hard to poke around on my breast and actually FEEL something there that a month ago I didn't even know existed. It's and odd feeling...mentally and emotionally. I guess, I am not really sure what to feel about it -- other than worry. I've got that down pat.

Tonight, Gerry asked if I was worried. DUH! However, my answer was not the rehearsed, neatly scripted response I give to everyone else. It was YES, and I was able to share all the reasons I was. And it felt good. I haven't really talked with him a whole lot about it because I "don't want to burden" him. *sigh* Everything I have experienced in my life is somehow directly tied to my not wanting to burden someone. I freaking have CANCER! Only a year and a half after my daughter being diagnosed with cancer?? And I don't want to BURDEN anyone? But that's my M.O. I have to handle it all by myself, because....??? I don't know. Because I always have?

My step-sister sent me a card to say she's been thinking of me and to tell me how she admires how STRONG I am. My first thought was "Well, if Strong means putting on a good face for everyone else while completely losing it on the inside, then HELL YEAH I'm Strong."

I don't want to be strong anymore. At least, not right now. It's exhausting me.

Whew! That Was A Close One!

 HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF!!!!!

So I met with the surgeon and oncologist today. THe news is good. The best I could ask for!!

I will be having a lumpectomy on October 30th to remove the mass, some surrounding tissue, and 1-2 sentinel lymph nodes (for further testing). Outpatient procedure. Only a couple days to recover. No need for a mastectomy!!! Fortunately the tumor is small enough that, even though it has infiltrated into the breast tissue, it hasn't spread much beyond that area. After I heal up from the surgery, I will be getting 3-4 weeks of radiation and then I will also be on a medication for the next 5 years that will help reduce the chances of the cancer making a comeback.

So yeah....I can't even tell you how GOOD this all feels. Because I am so dramatic, I was preparing myself for the worst. I was sure Dr. Edwards was going to tell me that I had to have a mastectomy and I just wasn't sure how I was going to deal with that. But I don't have to, so *whew*.

I am feeling very happy right now.

And so it begins...

I can't sleep. Every twinge I feel in my back, or ache I feel in my hip, I immediately start thinking about this damned "situation" and what it all means. If this is how it's going to go every night, I won't get any sleep, which I can imagine means grounds for a cancer party in my breast. :o|

Har har?

I am glad I went to class today. Yesterday I was talking about how I didn't want to and Gerry kind of got on my case about it. "Good lord, you don't even know if you're even really dying. Hold off on skipping class until at least you have a real excuse." Ha ha! Yes. It made me smile, and it helped. He knows me well. And even though I putzed around this morning and left at the last minute, I still made it and took my Chemistry test, sat through lecture and lab, and had a good day. The hour and fifteen minute drive to and from class wasn't as bad as I worried it would be. I figured with all that time to think about things, I'd be a huge weepy mess. I wasn't, though. I simply plugged in some of my favorite tunes to sing along to and kept my thoughts as simple as possible. I did figure from here on out everything will need to be dealt with on a "one-day-at-a-time" basis. If I allow myself to jump too far ahead I will definitely drive myself crazy.

This is all easier to manage during the day when there are all sort of distractions that I can focus on to keep my mind off the obvious. Bedtime is going to be a struggle. I tried playing games on my iPad, reading, watching cute cat videos, but unfortunately they aren't enough to keep my mind settled down. So here I am. I am guessing there will be a lot of nights like this in my future.

If I can get away with it, I am going to hold off talking to my boss until at least after my initial appointments next week. I feel weird talking to her about it before I've even talked to my family, but she will probably be in the loop before them. I don't know how long I will hold off telling the family. I told Gerry to keep his mouth shut for now. I'd rather have as much information as I can gather so I can answer all the questions I will certainly be bombarded with. So, at least until after next weeks appointment, although I would ideally even prefer to wait until after more testing is done and I know what stage I am in, what the treatment options are, and what the prognosis is. I really don't know if I can put it off that long, though. Gah. I hate thinking about that part of all this.

I have not had an emotional breakdown yet. I am sort of worried about that. Gerry thinks I'm going to just crack and "flip the hell out", and he is probably right. That is my modus operandi when I get stressed, so yeah. I guess we can expect that to happen. For now, I would just be happy with getting to sleep, especially when the alarm is set for 4:45am and I have to be at work at 7:00am.

It's going to be a long day tomorrow.

Take My Breath Away

 Have you ever heard about when someone receives really shocking news and they describe how their vision gets hazy and they go numb? I have, and I've always wondered if it really happens that way, or if it's just the best way of describing the rush of emotions you feel when faced with big, unexpected news.

Well, I can tell you that it does happen that way. And perhaps it is just the best way to describe the rush of emotions that comes with big, unexpected news, but there is definitely a physical reaction that occurs. It's unsettling. Just as unsettling as the news you get.

Yesterday I was told that I have breast cancer. Invasive ductal carcinoma. A small spot showed up on my screening mammogram last week and after the ultrasound, the doctor wanted to do a biopsy just to make sure it wasn't anything to be concerned about. I have cystic breasts, always have, and the spot he had seen looked like it wasn't anything but a complicated cyst on the ultrasound, but better to be safe. So they did the biopsy on Friday morning. After numbing my breast they shot two harpoon type needles into my left breast, into the area under my nipple, and clamped on to a couple portions of the cyst to remove it for testing. The doctor who did the biopsy said it didn't look suspicious to him, but I should know the results by Wednesday at the latest.

I expected that I would get a letter in the mail telling me all was good, and possibly even telling me to come back in 6 months for another mammogram, just to be safe. Instead I got a phone call yesterday asking me to come in to see the doctor later in the morning to go over the pathology results. I've never met this doctor before. Kind of a cool lady. Short, punky haircut dyed bright red on top that faded to a dark brown. Lots of piercings and tattoos. Overall, just seemed to be a neat lady. Like someone I would normally enjoy hanging out it.

She got right to the point, though. No use dancing around anything. She explained what the pathology results came back with. We are still waiting to find out how "my" cancer reacts to certain hormone exposure, which will give insight to treatment options. She told me her office had already set up appointments for me with a general surgeon and an oncologist. Next Tuesday. A week away. She mentioned things like mastectomy, metastasized, chemotherapy. But it was when she first told me "Unfortunately the results did come back positive for cancer" that I felt this rush from the top of my head to my toes. My lips went numb, my vision went cloudy and I audibly gasped. I had no control over it. For a moment I just looked at her as if she was speaking a language I couldn't understand, and all I could hear was "I am so sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances".

I feel like I am in limbo, right now. I won't know anything about anything at least until Tuesday of next week. There will be some sort of surgery done...at least removal of some lymph nodes to find out of the cancer has spread anywhere beyond the breast tissue. If it has, then what. From what I've read, that means it's incurable and I just live with it until I ultimately die from it. But that is the worst case scenario, and being the dramatic type I am, there is no other option but to jump to the worst case conclusion. That must explain why my body aches every morning when I get out of bed. It has spread to my bones. That must explain the little dizzy spells I've been having here and there the past few months. It's in my brain. That must explain why I've been having so many dreams of dying and telling my children how much I love them and how proud I am of them. My subconscious has known all along.

Then there is the question of how did this happen? How did I end up with breast cancer? What combination of factors were involved that caused a cluster of my cells to go rouge and go out of control? When did it happen? Were those random twinges I felt in my left breast months ago something I should have been more aware of? So many questions and no answers I can come up with on my own.

Gerry is the only person who knows so far. I honestly cringe at the thought of having to tell anyone else. My kids...the thought makes my stomach turn. My family...ugh...I just don't want to deal with all the dramatics that will come with it. My sister will flip the hell out -- I don't want to deal with her emotions. My dad...*sigh*...yeah..My kids, though.

*sigh*

There is nothing I can at this point except wait. I'll have to talk to my boss tomorrow and let her know what's up. I am sure I will be taking time off from work for any of the surgeries/treatments that are inevitable. I am not sure what to do about school at this point. I may have to drop the chemistry and biology class and just keep my online classes. Although, part of me is wondering if any of it is worth it at this point. There is no way I can do clinicals and chemotherapy at the same time, so perhaps this nursing gig is a no go afterall.

Queen of Conflict

 So yesterday I attempted to communicate with Gerry about something that I got irritated with. I explained to Gerry how I feel like he doesn't appreciate my efforts, but he came back telling me that I am interpreting his reactions as a lack of appreciation. I got upset because I felt like he wasn't "hearing me", that he was just trying to assert control over me, so what I came away with from that conversation was tension and discord. Then all my dreams last night were full of imagery where everything I came in contact with was breaking down or getting damaged because I wasn't taking the time to properly learn to use stuff, or I was just generally being careless. Things that could be easily avoided with time and patience. When Gerry woke me up this morning to say he was leaving for work, I had the echoes of my mothers voice in my head speaking to me and saying "you never could have anything nice because you just destroy it all".

I have spent the morning distracting myself from these thoughts because I don't want to dwell on them, but I have this nagging feeling that there is some vague truth somewhere in all of that. I do tend to be careless. Quick to react, slow to understand. I can't tell you how many times after an argument, where I have fought so hard to get my point across -- feeling that my point was the only legitimate point to make -- that I realize that perhaps I was wrong in my way of thinking or my actions.

I have no trouble pointing out the flaws and mistakes made by others. It's super easy to do that. Yet, although I know I am not perfect, I become furiously defensive if my flaws are pointed out. I cradle those parts of me, protect them from scrutiny. Like those parts are all that I am. As if, without those parts, I would be nothing. I don't want to be that way anymore, though. I am tired of being so defensive of these parts of me that I really don't like. These are the parts of me that I know cause conflict between me and others. That cause conflicts in my relationship with Gerry.

I am tired of there always being conflict. It makes my heart heavy and tired.

Anger.

 I've never thought of myself as an angry person. I get uncomfortable when others openly express anger, so I have always assumed that being an "angry person" is just not part of my personality. However, I am learning that I am wrong.

I am noticing the way I react in different situations and that there are times -- more often than not -- that I am reacting in a way well beyond what is necessary for the situation.

Shoes left in the entry way? Pissed off.

Towels not folded and put away? Pissed off.

Went grocery shopping without me? Pissed off.

Had a friendly conversation with the attractive neighbor? Livid!

None of those situations are reasonable reasons for me to get as angry as I do, and yet I find myself boiling over in these scenarios. I'll let these situations simmer for a few days until, like a pressure cooker that has built up too much steam, I'll blow and send out those sharp daggers of my anger out at those closest to me. Typically Gerry. He bears the brunt of 99.9% of my outbursts, which usually consists of my having built up all sorts of unreasonable, irrational assumptions about him and us. I am convinced he is cheating on me. I am convinced he is purposely withholding conversation from me. I am convinced he is intentionally doing things to make me angry. None of it is really true, and if any of it is, it is because I make conversation difficult because it becomes an argument all the time.

It's not like this every day, but enough that over the last year or so it has become so regular it is almost predictable. I try to assign all sorts of other explanations for it, like I am tired, I am not happy with work, my schedule is all wonky, however the real explanation is that this is a part of my personality that needs to be addressed, dealt with and controlled.

I am not liking these revelations about myself, but I know that if I don't face them and deal with them then nothing will really ever change for me. I don't want that. Life is learning, and I have to be open to that -- even though some of the stuff I learn might be super unpleasant.

My Therapist Told Me To.

 My therapist keeps telling me to write things down: thoughts, feelings, anxieties, etc. I keep meaning to, but never give myself the time to do it. There is always something else more important, or more interesting to distract my mind from thoughts, feelings and anxieties I'd rather avoid than sort through. However, I am on my way to 43 years old and I am always seeking ways to improve myself and my life, and at this present time those thoughts, feelings and anxieties are the things that need to be sorted through if any improvement is to be made.

So yeah. I am in therapy. With a bona-fide, doctorate degree hanging on the wall, therapist. In the past I've sought out mental-health help from professionals with counseling licenses, and have never stuck with it. I always felt they were too "soft" on me, for lack of a better description, so I never felt like it was a good fit. Mary is a wonderful fit, though, and I've been seeing her now for almost 3 months now.

I find that I tend to go through evolutions in my life every 10 years or so, and I feel like I am coming up on one now. The last year or so I've felt really unsettled and unsatisfied with where I am and what I am doing with my life, which prompted my successful (so-far) return to school. I've done well in school, but I fear that other areas in my life have suffered some. My relationship with Gerry being a big one.

I tend to be the kind of person who has difficulty giving my energy to more than one person/activity at a time. I don't have a huge group of friends because I find it too exhausting to try to entertain more than one or two close friendships. When I am in a romantic relationship, that person tends to become the main focus of my "friendship" attention, and that's the way it has been for the last 8 years with Gerry and I. I still have my other friends, but I don't do anything social with them anymore. On one hand that bothers me, because I *should* be doing those things, right? Girls night out. Book clubs. Painting parties. Mom Proms. All those kind of events that I see so many other people on social media enjoying. And part of me wants to partake, but a larger part of me is okay with staying at home and spending my time with Gerry. For seven of the last eight years Gerry and I have been together, it's pretty much been him and doing everything together. We cook together, drink together, go on day trips together, etc. And I've enjoyed it all. I love spending time with him. Yet.

I started back to school last fall. I made the decision to go back to school a year before. I was nervous, but excited. Anxious, but eager. And because it was something NEW, my attention turned to focus more on it than on other things in my life. Other things like my relationship with Gerry. Now, it should be expected that there would be understanding that there would be a change in our relationship -- there would be less time for us. I work more afternoons, so we see each other less. We don't talk as much as we used to, and I know that leaves me often feeling left out of his life. When I crawl into bed at night after coming home from a shift I feel guilty for disturbing him because he gets up early for work in the morning. I miss starting our days with coffee and breakfast together and ending our morning dates with a kiss and an "I love you" before heading our separate ways. We don't cook dinner together as often as we used to. Sometimes I just don't feel like there is a "we" anymore. He is an "I" and I am an "I".

I'll write more later. I am feeling like I am shifting from wanting to just unload these feelings in a constructive way, to using this as a platform to express all my dramatic musings. I just want things to be simple, and right now I am feeling far from that.

Perhaps a soak in the tub and a good book will help.