Happy 2009!

I usually wake up these days around 4am. It just happens. I may go right back to sleep, I may listen to a guided imagery CD, or I may get on the computer for awhile before easing back into sleep. Today is New Year's Eve. The year 2009 is less than 24 hours away. There is much on my mind.

First, the gratitude...always the gratitude. I am humbled by the love I am surrounded with - it strengthens, comforts, and sustains me in ways that I am continually learning about. It challenges me to be better, to make choices, to share more fully...I constantly fall down on the job - but this love I feel reminds me that love itself is the only reason we are here anyway. I thank all of you for being a part of my life this year.

Christmas did not look the same this year but it was wonderful. The house was full of family and love and laughter. (especially when someone bought and wrapped the same gift twice for the same person and didn't realize it...) We had amazing food that I was able to eat and enjoy. I was tired but not sick and watching everyone open gifts and enjoying each others company was pure joy.

Even though my numbers were down on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day I was well enough to go to the Christmas Eve Service with a mask. It was hot in the sanctuary so I made the decision to go "hatless". I didn't realize what an impact it would have on me - it was more of a comfort thing in the moment. The hair loss doesn't bother me except as it influences perceptions and the way others may treat me (see earlier blog posts for more on this...) I'm not interested in a wig, and I wear hats occasionally for one of two reasons - 1) It is winter and my head gets cold and, 2) Other people are sometimes uncomfortable seeing my bald head. Well, so long number 2. (Stephani, it's only taken me the better part of 20 years...) In church on Christmas Eve, with no hat, no hair, I was able to be comfortable being just me exactly as I am without any pretense of hiding. Very freeing. It is not every day that you can feel comfortable looking like Uncle Fester...

But it hasn't been all joy and light on Rita Road. 2008 has probably been the most difficult year on record for too many reasons to list here. If I look at items on a stress scale there are very few that one of us has not experienced personally this year. So there has been some sadness and grieving mixed in with the holidays. There has been some real disappointment in the abandonment by people we had once thought of as friends. We continue to pray for them and hope they can find peace. The trials of this year have made us all stronger and it's the strength I want to take into next year...I'd like to leave the pain behind...

On Tuesday, December 30th I saw Dr. Kennedy. I tolerated the changes in chemo well and she was happy! (We really like it when she is happy). She is reducing the prednisone again so now I will be taking 20mg a day with pepcid, and the bactrim 3 times a week. Lungs still good. I am scheduled for my next chemo (#4!) on Thursday, January 8th at 8am...

Okay, so while I've been all over the place with this post it seems that I want to tie up loose ends. In re-reading what I just wrote I am tempted to delete it all and just say "Happy New Year!" but I won't. The theme that comes through to me is one of healing. Physical, emotional, and spiritual healing...for all of us. This is my wish as we move into 2009, along with hope, and moments of great joy. May we continue to face whatever comes our way with humor, laughter, tears, and love. Thank you all for your love and support. It means more than I will ever be able to say...

Back on Track

Hi again,

It feels like it's been awhile - and I guess it has. Most of December has been a blur. An interesting Advent...waiting, contemplating...praying... but now is the time for joy and celebration and peace.

I've been taking prednisone, bactrim, pepcid, etc. to deal with the pneumonitis and I had to take a little break from chemo. The break reminded me that when I am through, my energy will return. I was able to enjoy a part of the season that I wouldn't have been able to. Instead of my counts being down, I was able to do some shopping and go to a holiday concert. I even went to a midweek advent service. I stayed close to home and the outings were brief, but the turn of events was great. I did, however have some concern as to how my treatment would proceed and what that would mean for me.

I saw Dr. Kennedy on Monday December 15th and got the go ahead to resume chemo on Thursday December 18th at 8am (exactly two weeks later than scheduled). She had been away at a conference and presented my case to her colleagues so I got the benefit of expert collaboration and that is comforting. I won't take the cytoxin this round and there was an initial thought of changing the neulasta to neupogen, but now I'll still take the neulasta only in a slightly smaller dose. The cytoxin is the most likely of the drugs to have caused the problem but it could have been the taxotere. We won't know until I have chemo again but I should be on enough support meds to be safe. Then we would just shift again...add cytoxin, subtract taxotere and then add a new combination of chemo at the end of my scheduled cycles...but I get ahead of myself...I like a plan but all plans come with wrenches...

So Thursday morning went as smoothly as it could. We arrived on time, Dan picked us right up, numbers good, port accessed, pulse ox compatible with life....all set. Relaxing, uneventful, over. Thank God. Friday, back for neulasta shot and home just as the rain turned to sleet and snow.

So now it's just managing the fatigue and side effects. I just have to get some wrapping done. If all goes well I will be able to attend Christmas Eve Service with a mask on...and a completely bald head that I have to admit I am starting to like in its simplicity... (thank you Donna!).

I do have one funny story to share with you before I end this post. After we left chemo we made a quick side trip to Sam's Club. I look like I'm in my pajamas with sweat pants, flannel shirt and my "Fight Like a Girl" Breast Cancer Survivor baseball hat on. The "super-alert" salesperson assigned to sell professional portrait packages approaches me and asks me when the last time was that I had a professional portrait of myself. (I'm thinking my college yearbook picture but that has no bearing on the story) So without missing a beat, I said to the salesman, "I'm not really looking my best these days." To which he replied, "Oh, it wouldn't be today.....it would be this weekend." I'm sure I could spruce up by then but I think I'll pass anyway until I grow some hair...

Until next time....maybe one more before Christmas....

...A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Chemo...

Hi again. You may remember from the last post that I was waiting to hear from Dr. Kennedy about the results of my tests and having chemo #3. There was something significant for me in getting #3 out of the way since it is the halfway mark. When I spoke to Dr. Kennedy she said that my chest x-ray was negative, my bloodwork, including blood and urine cultures were fine and that I should plan on having chemo on Thursday the 4th as scheduled. Since we spoke on the afternoon of the 3rd, she said to take both doses of decadron together. The temperatures have continued but I have been able to take tylenol at longer intervals. I could go about 16-18 hours before the temperature would break 100, but it would hover in the 99s. I took tylenol at 3:30pm and Dr. Kennedy asked that I not take another dose before she saw me in the morning before chemo (which was scheduled for 8am). The fever seemed to break after the decadron and by morning I was back in the 97.9 range..go figure.

We went to chemo feeling a little hopeful. It started out well - I didn't have to be weighed in or have bloodwork because I had just done all that 3 days earlier. (and I had lost a few pounds!). Dan (a favorite nurse) checked me in and paged Dr. Kennedy. She wanted some routine bloodwork, vitals, pulse ox, etc. and then would see me to write orders for the chemo....uh huh...temp was down, blood pressure and heart rate were up and resting pulse ox was 94. These were not particularly good indicators. My pulse ox should have been 100. So....when Dr. Kennedy came in she made me walk around the loop of the chemo room and the office with a pulse ox monitor on my finger. My response was to promptly de-sat to 87 while my heart rate went up to 149. I was still asymptomatic (no coughing or shortness of breath)

So chemo was cancelled and I had to go to the ER for a CT scan since they were so backed up. Dr. Kennedy was looking for a blood clot (pulmonary embolism) or inflammation of the lungs possibly caused by one of the chemotherapy drugs. Once in the ER I felt as if I had died and gone to ER heaven (probably not the best metaphor under the circumstances) As one who has worked in an ER for 27 years I can honestly say that my experience at Torresdale was remarkable. The doctor and nurse were both personable and competent and kept me and my family informed every step of the way. My nurse came to check on me in CT and reported back. When Dr. Kennedy decided to admit me to the hospital, the ER staff called for a room and my nurse took me upstairs herself within minutes of getting a room assignment on the telemetry unit.

The good news was that I didn't have an embolism, but the scan did show pneumonitis which is irritation or inflammation caused by one of the drugs. Dr. Kennedy said that she is glad that we caught it because it could be life-threatening especially if I had gotten more chemo. The damage can be reversed with meds but she wanted to talk to some colleagues about how to proceed with my treatment regimen and also wanted to get another mugascan to make sure that my heart was still ok. My lab work was off (white count of 20,000) but it was hard to say how much was affected by the decadron.

So I was admitted to telemetry so that I could continue to be monitored. My labs on Friday were all back to normal. My temp stayed low, blood pressure was good, and slowly my heart rate came back to normal (unless I walked around the hall without oxygen). With oxygen my pulse ox stayed at about 97. Because I can speak "ER talk" the staff gave me all the details I asked for about my condition. I won't bore you here but it was helpful to me. The muga scan was fine (thank God) and I had a pulmonary consult.

Here is what we came up with for the moment. Dr. Kennedy will take away the cytoxin from my chemo. She says that this is the most likely drug to be giving me problems, although it could be any of the others including the neulasta shot. She also is changing the neulasta shot to neuprogen and I will have to go for several shots every other day following chemo. I'll be taking prednisone, bactrim, and pepcid to try to clear up my lungs. I have an appointment to see Dr. Kennedy on December 15th and I will have a repeat CT. Hopefully, I will be able to have the new, improved, chemo #3 that week so we don't get too far off schedule, and hopefully it will be the right combo. I want to have the best possible regimen to avoid any recurrence, but I don't want the treatment to kill me or worse...so I am trusting her to know what she is doing. I know she will be vigilant.

While all of this sounds scary and crazy (and it is), it is a better outcome and treatment plan than most of the others so I am grateful. I have been listening to a series of wellness CDs for Fighting Cancer, Optimizing Chemotherapy, Managing Fatigue, Dealing with the Side Effects of Cancer and its Treatment, etc., and they have been very helpful. But that's a story for another time...

For tonight, as the temperatures drop my thoughts turn to the 60-70 people, about 50 of them youth, who are sleeping out in cardboard boxes on the front lawn of the church to raise awareness and money for the homeless. May God be with them and keep them warm. Thanks for listening....

Thanksgiving Before and After

"Have no fear for what tomorrow may bring. The same loving God who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day. God will either shield you from suffering or give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace, then, and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations." - Francis de Sales.



Today I am filled with gratitude. Most days I am filled with gratitude, but as we approach Thanksgiving this year I am acutely aware of all of my blessings. The words of encouragement above were on a little pocket card that my mother sent to me a few weeks ago. This simple gesture was one of the most supportive things my mother could have done. I'm sure that she doesn't even know it because she always feels that she "should be doing more." I am grateful that my folks are already settled back in Florida until the summer because they really enjoy themselves down there. I thank God for the familiarity of our ongoing conversations via e-mail, the knowledge that I can't stop them from worrying but I don't have to live it with them, and for the hope that when they return I will be much further along the path of healing.

As I rejoin this post, Thanksgiving is already past - time goes by so quickly. We spent a lovely few days with family in the country. It was very relaxing and the food was great. Like a much needed oasis. And then we came back.

I've seen Dr. Kennedy twice - once for my regular follow-up visit, and once for an unscheduled visit to try to figure out why my temperature keeps going up and up and up unless we have a tylenol moment. I've also developed an annoying little cough this cycle...had to have CBC, blood and urine cultures, and a chest x-ray...Trying to stay centered is difficult at times considering all the possibilities. But my "team" is always there to remind me that my body is strong and is helping to heal itself, and that no matter how many wrenches are thrown into the system, that we can deal with them. I thank God every day for the people who are walking with me.

I am waiting to hear from the doctor to see what our game plan will be and if I will be able to get chemo as scheduled on Thursday, December 4th. I want to continue with the regimen of drugs that will give me the very best prognosis, but depending on what she finds, she may want to change or alter the meds...we'll see....

Keep a good thought...I felt like writing a little something but now I really have to take a little nap......the last time I did that I came back and it was after Thanksgiving.....and this post was all a mishmash so I will end here and start a new one when I am more rested.....

Chemo II...The Saga Continues...

On Thursday, November 13th we arrived at Frankford Torresdale at 8am for my second chemo. I wasn't quite as anxious as I was the first time because I knew the ropes. It was amazing how some of the nurses and even the volunteer remembered our names. One of the volunteers commented that I still had hair. When I said, "Not for long," she said "You might not lose it." I told her that I was pretty sure I would, so she remarked that I had nice eyebrows and maybe I wouldn't lose them. As I laughed and thanked her, I realized that she didn't have any eyebrows, they were drawn in with a pencil...

We got our private corner again and didn't have to listen to the TV. One of my favorite nurses (already) came over and told a story of the LOUD family that had been in my corner on a different day and watched nothing but Jerry Springer and Court TV. A little glimpse of hell...

Since I was so wordy in my last blog I'm going to keep this short. I am 2 down and 4 to go...that is one third done with this treatment cycle...
When I mentioned that to my nurse she said, "then this is your third treatment?" And I said, "No, that would mean that I was halfway done..."
I silently hoped that the pharmacy had mixed my meds. (Just kidding, this particular nurse was a bit distracted - listening to a tiny hippopotomus that sang the Christmas song with the same name....and talking with a vendor about her experience visiting a psychic...in between that she gave good care and while she was doing other things or at lunch, the other nurses were all very attentive)

Dr. Kennedy came through the chemo room several times and stopped by. She is clearly the doctor to have. She is smart, compassionate, and a good advocate for her patients. And all the nurses know that they had better be on top of her patients...that's not a bad thing...

On Friday I went for my Neulasta shot, and now I'm left to manage side effects and ride the wave until a week from Tuesday when I have my follow-up appointment with Dr. Kennedy. If last time is any indication, I should finish my support meds on Sunday and hit a wall on Monday. The rest of the week is dealing with a rapidly dropping scary low white count so I have learned that I will not be attempting any outings during that time or having any company. Hopefully, by the end of next weekend my numbers should start to come up again and I will feel stronger...Thanks for reading, I'll write more as the mood strikes...

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow...

So it's been an interesting week. I've had more energy because my numbers have been coming up - just in time for my second chemo, and the more bothersome of the side effects have leveled off. I took a breath and appreciated the beauty of this season and noticed that the leaves were all letting go and falling - still pretty in the air and on the ground, but clearly marking the transition to a winter that is just around the corner. And I realized that as this was happening in nature, there was a striking parallel in my life. My hair, too, has been "letting go and falling" - almost overnight. Those of you who know me well know that losing my hair was not a major concern of mine -it is not a process that hurts, it eventually comes back, and it is a visible reminder that the drugs are working, and healing, and cleansing my body of any stray cancer cells. But there is something to be said for the visual and its impact.

I have a lot of hair even when it's cut short and within a few short days I've lost enough hair in the shower and in my brush to create two wigs. That leaves me with some but not much hair for my head. The hats are ready, no wigs for me, and hopefully when I can be around people again this cycle we can have a small ritual healing celebration to mark this event. As much as I am ok with the prospect of baldness, the reality of it brings up a concern about the change in perceptions - others' and my own.

Right now, I have no illusions that I am fighting and healing from cancer. I feel it every day in my body and soul. But I am still me - I laugh a lot, I recognize myself in the mirror, and I have interests and (can occasionally have), conversations about things that have nothing to do with bodily functions or medically related topics. But as I look in the mirror and begin to see my scalp I know that in a couple weeks I will look very different. I will see a cancer patient. Because I've had a chance to get used to living with this disease I am hoping that whatever feelings might come up for me will just be part of the rich experience of this journey. My concern (if I even have one - you are just reading early morning musings of someone the day after chemo) is that while I have been very much aware of the cancer and the treatment, etc., unless I'm having a bad day or moving slower, most people would have no clue that anything was going on with me. As a matter of fact, last Sunday in church folks were commenting that they "couldn't believe how good I looked." Then my hair started falling out. My experience with others has been that friends, family, acquaintences, feel better when "the patient" looks well and is upbeat. I'm pretty comfortable feeling how I'm feeling and letting people know what is going on with me. I don't feel I need to keep up any pretenses. But when people look at me and can't help but see a cancer patient, I get a little concerned that that is how I will be treated, that some won't be able to get beyond that and it may be too uncomfortable for them.

I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, with the image of falling leaves/hair and the reminder that winter is just around the corner I am nesting. I am looking forward to the holidays this year. While they will look very different from holidays past they will be full of love and gratitude and such joy. Having children around is such a blessing. As it stands now both Thanksgiving and Christmas fall at a time when my numbers should be fine...

I remember the day my mother had her second mastectomy. It was the beginning of December (1979) and I was sitting in the surgical waiting room with my father and Christmas music was playing. I love Christmas music, but I kept thinking that if something went wrong, or if this didn't go well then I would always associate it with Christmas music. Luckily things went well and my mother and I still enjoy listening to Christmas music together. So yesterday when I went to my second chemo and heard the Christmas music playing I felt some strength from those in my family and others I've known who have gone through this before me. It was very comforting. I am also comforted by the season of gratitude marked by Thanksgiving and the anticipation of Advent and the love and joy and promise of Christmas. And instead of the bleakness of "post holiday winter" I am looking forward to a time of hibernation and healing. I will have the opportunity (unencumbered by the obligations of work, etc.) to spend cozy time indoors - maybe with a fire, maybe watching old movies or something that will make me laugh, reading when I can, napping, staying in touch through facebook, e-mail, the blog, and occasionally phone calls or a visit here and there. And in the spring when the chemo is over (God willing) and we begin to move on to radiation, and the trees are budding and the earth is in renewal with the promise of rebirth and resurrection...my hair will slowly but steadily return...

Miss Me?

Hello....just thought I'd give you a little update before my next chemo....right now I'm feeling pretty well - just a little tired and one or two GI annoyances. I'm gearing up for round two which will take place on Thursday, November 13th at 8am assuming my numbers are good. I have debated how much I will write on this blog because I want people to keep reading, but it is also for me to process this experience and to have those of you who wish to, walk with me on this journey. So I've decided that I will share what I can but hopefully I won't be too graphic. I am also doing other writing and I will entitle the upcoming book ...What I Didn't Say in My Blog...

All that being said, the first chemo wasn't too bad. The support meds did a great job for the first few days following the treatment. The Neulasta shot has its own set of side effects but they sort of blended in for the moment. Monday (the fourth day) I hit a brick wall. My thinking was foggy and I had to lay down in the middle of the day (!) Tuesday was a bit scary and I felt pretty weak. I went to see Dr. Kennedy for my follow-up on Wednesday and she told me that my white count was 700. No visitors or crowds for me...just the thought of me working in the ER brought images of the girl in the plastic bubble to mind. Dr. Kennedy said that younger, healthy patients seem to drop their white counts lower and faster than the older patients. I think she was lying...like "it's good luck when it rains on your wedding day"...Anyway, she said that it would continue to drop until Saturday or Sunday and that that was the crucial time for infection. She said that after that the white count would start going up again. I had to keep taking my temperature. I wasn't quite as annoying as newly diagnosed diabetics who check their blood sugars every half hour but I was probably close. My temp started out in the 97.5 range and the highest it got was 99.2 one morning at 4am. I took two tylenol and that was that. If it went to 100 - 100.5, I would have had to call the Dr. I have a whole list of delightful possibilities that would prompt a call no matter what time of day or night that they occured. I only had to call once on Saturday night. (I did have to call again on Wednesday but I'm not counting that because it was for the same issue....) My worst time of the day has been between 11am or so and 3pm.

Sunday and Monday (Nov. 2nd and 3rd) I started to feel better. Susan got me a shower chair which has been a Godsend and I am noticing that my hair is beginning to come out - not dramatically - but enough. I have a lot of hair to begin with but I suspect this next round will encourage it to "let go and be free!" The chemo attacks all the fast growing cells in the body and it is interesting to see and feel this happening. It reminds me that these drugs are doing their job... sort of like the pumpkins in the picture...before and after chemotherapy and radiation....

I was able to get out and vote - I hope you all made it to the polls. I was listening to the story of a 92 year old woman who had had a stroke and all sorts of medical problems who felt that she absolutely had to vote in this election, so she got an ambulance to bring her by stretcher to her polling place and she was able to vote. While I am in awe and applaud her determination, I wish someone had told her about proxy ballots....

Thank you to everyone on the Women's Retreat who prayed for me and signed my card. And thank you to those of you who told me that you missed the blog...I'm never gone for too long...

...And Chemo....

Hi, I bet you are all wondering how I am going to find the humor in chemo...well...On Wednesday I started taking Decadron (one in the am with breakfast and one with dinner). There are alot of support meds to help the side effects - cardiac, GI, white counts,etc. I have to say that I didn't get much sleep Wednesday night. But by Thursday morning I just wanted to get the show on the road and the first treatment behind me. I've sat and talked with many, many people while they were going through chemo but that didn't help me in knowing what my personal experience would be like (and there are too many variables...no two treatments are the same)

We arrived at Frankford-Torresdale on time (9:15am) and I was taken back right away. I was weighed-in - ugh, worst part of the whole day - and then the lab tech asked me which arm she could draw blood from. I told her, "Neither, I have a POWER PORT." Duly impressed she sent me into the chemo room to have one of the nurses draw the blood and start the treatment. The chemo room consists of about 25 lounge chairs that were filled constantly with a variety of patients - some treatments take longer than others - but once someone left their chair wasn't empty for long. Since Col and I must have had that "deer in the headlights look in our eyes" I was immediately pegged as a new-bee. This meant that a funny, irreverant, caring nurse named Dan came over and told me that his name was 'Dave'. He quickly moved on to more helpful hints like which lounge chairs didn't go all the way back, how to minimize side effects, and that Thursdays are soft pretzel days. All of the staff and volunteers were kind and compassionate, but I had the most contact with Dan and Lynn who were also funny and had a way of putting me at ease. I was most concerned with what it would be like to access the port and if I would feel any pain throughout the process. I got honest answers and the whole day went much more smoothly than I had expected.

Dan drew some blood from my port and I was so relieved. Then Susan was able to slip away from her patients so that we all could meet with Dr. Kennedy first. After that I was hooked up to the chemo and given a cozy blanket. I was given decadron, emend, benedryl, taxotere, adriamyacin, and cytoxin. The adriamyacin was red and had to be "pushed" but the others just infused uneventfully I am thankful to say. They have to tell you what "might" happen and I have to say that that is always a bit unnerving.

The rest of the time was an adventure in people watching. We were there for 6 hours from start to finish (it will be slightly less in the future because I won't always have an appointment first and the initial teaching is out of the way). We were sitting in a little alcove area that I liked for many reasons - a little more privacy, and the TV was not on. We were visited periodically by volunteers bringing around trays of goodies (not what I expected for this group...) and occasionally the volunteers would take a break and sit in our alcove to talk about themselves and/or their pets. We also had the pleasure of chatting with another patient who "came to visit me" (He was done with his treatment but not with his snacking...). For the sake of confidentiality, "Ralph" (not his real name), is an 83 year old Frenchman who likes to write his age out in Roman Numerals - LXXXIII - because it seems more "majestic" and "olympian". He calls himself a "lifer" and has so many stories that you wish you had a recorder. Even my benedryl induced stupor didn't slow him down. He has recently given up driving because he can "only see out of one eye - and not well at that". He had been driving by following the tail lights of other cars and realized that it could present a problem if someone's tail light was out...I am sure I will see him again.

I am trying to be compliant, flooding myself with fluids, and "grazing" instead of eating regular meals. My first night was ok and I slept well. Friday morning it was back to Torresdale for a Neulasta shot. The staff recognized me and asked me how my first night had been. They could not have been nicer or more comforting. On Wednesday I will see Dr. Kennedy for a follow up visit since this was my first chemo, then I will follow up with her about 2 weeks after treatment as a rule. On Friday and Saturday I will continue to take oral Emend and on Friday, Saturday and Sunday I will continue to take oral decadron. Who knows what Monday will bring. The Emend is to try to prevent nausea and vomiting but it doesn't work if it has already started so I have 3 other meds in my arsenal just in case...

All in all, better than expected...so far...I am grateful for that. Thank you for all your well wishes and prayers. And thank you for all of the gifts and comfort items - from the books to the softest socks in the world - I am loving all of them. Sue Sipos, that "bag of goodies" is really coming in handy about now so thank you so much for that. Anyway, one down and 5 to go....I'll keep you posted (get it?)...

Chemochemochemochemochemo

Hi, it's me again. I finally have a start date for chemo - Thursday, October 23rd, God willing...This will give me enough time to finish up with the dentist - I'm in the final phase of getting 2 implants and it would not be good to have inflamed or irritated gums once I start chemo. Just for sport I think I will count how many times I say that word today (chemo).

I was thinking about how when people have babies one of two things happen. Either (A) their entire house becomes a playpen (I know you know these people) and their lives, including all of their conversations revolve around the baby, or (B) their baby becomes a cherished part of a family that has diverse interests and gifts. I want my cancer to be the baby in the second scenario. While it is true that I love my cards and books around me, and I do have some items around to make the chemo (9) experience more comfortable, and there are one or two pink ribbon items in sight, once I get into a rhythm, I hope that the cancer experience becomes just a part of a life that is filled with other things. Of course I will continue to inundate you with all of the cancer/non-cancer updates that are fit to print.

On the gratitude list for this week is a wonderful visit with a new friend, Anna Marie, the deepening of my devotional time, some fabulous rice pudding (thank you Bonnie), and all of you for supporting me by reading this and in your own special ways. I'll let you know how ...you know what....goes next Thursday...unless I write sooner just because. Thanks.

Cliffhangers?

Hello, I've been waiting to blog until I have a date for my first chemo (I have to call Dr. Kennedy's office on Monday) but from what I've been hearing, some of you enjoy reading these updates and have been on the edge of your seats waiting to hear about the PET scan-Ultrasound detour. So here it is. I went for the ultrasound on Tuesday night, Oct.7th (the exact dates are for my memoirs), at 6:30pm. The earliest appointment had been for the 16th but once Kathy (in Dr. Kennedy's office) checked with her to see if that would be ok she came back on the phone and told me that I had an appointment for later that same day...the privileges of Stage 3...and a physician who is an amazing advocate.

I had to drink 32 ounces of water an hour before the test - and Hold it! For you menopausal and perimenopausal women out there - you know what an ordeal this was...hoping not to cough or sneeze...and for me, inhibiting all possibility of laughter. Fortunately this was going to be a...let's say...thorough...ultrasound and that is no laughing matter in my book. We arrived on time, I was taken in exactly at 6:30, and just before 7p.m. we were on our way to Callabrisella's (a mom and pop Italian restaurant in Bensalem) to unwind and enjoy three delicious entrees that would also serve as lunch the next day. By the end of dinner I had gone to the bathroom 3 times...

I spoke to Dr. Kennedy on Thursday and she said that everything "looked fine" and that there was a small fibroid that was probably causing all the commotion. I will be calling her office to schedule the chemo on Monday. I'm going to see if I can start on Thursday or maybe the following Tuesday, or maybe in the spring....just kidding...I have a few loose ends to take care of first....like getting the caps on my dental implants and other fun stuff. As soon as I know, you folks will be the first to know. (this blog is like a good cliffhanger...)

Until then,
Thanks.

A Little Snag...

Hi...just a quick note...instead of "Your PET scan is clear, let's move on to the chemo," I got "I don't exactly know what this means but..." Translated, that means that "something" was seen on the PET scan concerning my uterus - technically, linear physiological activity. I will have to get a pelvic ultrasound before I start chemo. Hopefully this is just a fibroid and we can get on with things...

On a happier note... I was able to do some drumming at the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure this weekend and I have to say that it is inspiring to participate in this event. I am attempting to upload some photos to the blog (for your multimedia enjoyment), including the giant mushroom, the think pink book club, and a "before" photo while I still have hair... (scroll down to past entries to see photos - 3 altogether up to this point)

Breast Cancer Awareness Month (and my PET scan)

The irony is not lost on me that I had my PET scan and will be launched into the treatment phase of this journey just as we are entering Breast Cancer Awareness month. You can't miss it. I went food shopping the other day and got breast cancer paper towels. The Progresso Soup labels have a pink border, and just about every product is somehow involved. They are all contributing a portion of their proceeds to this cause. What a great concept. If you walk into a department store you will see Breast Cancer apparel. The attention to this particular disease is not new this year but I am seeing it and reacting to it a bit differently. Because now I am living it. It has always been a cause near and dear to my heart that I have supported - after all, my mother has been a breast cancer survivor since I was 10 and so many friends and family have been affected by it. But now I am living it. It is an odd place to sit. You have heard me joke about getting a pink wardrobe, but there is something powerful about being part of a group of extraordinarily strong women. I am at the very beginning of my road. I can't imagine the experiences that lie ahead but they will change and shape my life. I suspect that they will strengthen the connection with all women who have been told at one time or another, "You have breast cancer." But I want to remember this, I want to remember that I don't have to be "living" something in order to have real empathy. I thought I was pretty empathic and in fairness to me, I am - but I didn't always pay attention to the day in and day out "little things" that are not often spoken about when I have had conversations with folks who are dealing with catastrophic illness. We would talk about the "big" things mainly, so I didn't really have the whole picture. So the learning is beginning for me. I hope to do some writing other than this blog that I can reflect on and use and perhaps even share with others. I am just glad that it is not Irritable Bowel Awareness month because wearing a T-Shirt or eating food labled "irritable bowel awareness" would just be awkward...

And now, where were we...the PET scan...I had to eat high protein and low carb the day before the test which is not that difficult to do except that if I have restrictions placed on me I need to rebel. I really wanted ice cream. But I am a compliant patient...chicken and water...I had the scan done at Frankford-Torresdale in a trailer that drives onto the parking lot every Wednesday and every other Thursday. They were ready for me as soon as I got there and had to check my blood sugar with a finger stick. It was fine so they went on to the adventure of finding a vein to inject the radio active substance into. I will spare you the details of that process...can't use the port for this...argh. Then I had to be still and quiet in a darkened space in a lounge chair for 45 minutes (all the comforts of home...)When it was time they made me go to the bathroom to empty my bladder (of radio active urine) and then lie on a table. Since both of my arms are not able to go over my head to the extent that they wanted (like the double jointed contortionist in the circus), they strapped my arms to my side and told me that I could breathe throughout the test(good news) but I couldn't move(not so good news). The test was going to scan first and then scan 6-7 sections incrementally for 6 minute intervals each. Just for sport I thought about what it would be like if I had an itch somewhere and then I thought that that was probably not a good idea so I concentrated on my physical, emotional, and spiritual feelings, which usually in these situations have been feelings of being surrounded and held by God - seriously. The thing I liked was that when we started, the tech Mark (who is in another room) said,"Can you hear me?" I said, "Yes." And then he said, "Good, I can hear you too in case we need to talk to each other." And then I didn't hear another word from him until the scan was done. Usually the techs are so chatty - "You're doing great", "How are you doing, Susan", "Only 3 more to go", "last one", etc. Comforting at times, but breaks into my prayer time. When I was done, they burned a CD of the scan for me and that was that. The scan is in the computer system for Dr. Kennedy to see at any time but I am sure she will wait to hear the radiologists reading before she gives me the results.

After we said good-bye to Sue, who was still at the hospital with patients, we went to take a picture of the giant mushroom to upload to this blog...it really is a "must see". Unfortunately, due to the rain (and Sue S kicking it over) it is no longer white. It is a brownish slimy thing but hopefully, you'll get the picture. Then we went to Dairy Queen for the last time this season. As a matter of fact, they put out their "Closed for the Season" sign right after we got our order...endings and beginnings...

Well it is an absolutely gorgeous day today so I am going to try to get out and enjoy it. I will write more as the spirit moves me and let you know the PET scan results and when chemo will start. Thanks for listening...thanks for everything...

Catching Up

So, I wasn't going to blog until next Wednesday after the PET scan but apparently even in blogging I'm long-winded and chatty. On Wednesday the 25th I went to Frankford Bucks to try to have my blood drawn. As per Dr.Kennedy's suggestion I asked for the person in out-pt lab who had been there the longest. That would be Vicky. She was at the hospital when it was still Delaware Valley and Dr. Kennedy was just a resident. I stayed true to myself and was still the most difficult stick she had seen. At one point I asked her what would happen if they just couldn't get the blood. She responded," I don't really know because it has never happened." Although she was a little older by the end of the experience, Vicky was amazing and managed to get all the blood we needed from two different sites. I was relieved.

Then we went to book club where everyone wore pink in my honor (Sonya even wore a robe and slippers because that's what she had in pink). And we had pink food - salmon, shrimp, macaroni, raspberries, pink champagne, cosmos, pink lemonade, pink cupcakes with breast cancer ribbon icing....It was good to see everyone and I appreciate the gesture and the gifts - favorite children's books and cancer "goodies" - more than I can tell you. Thank you, Tracy, for hosting, and thank all of you for being there and for continuing to support me.

On Friday, the 27th, we got to Frankford Bucks at 7am for the port placement. (All the bloodwork was fine by the way, and I had gotten a call telling me that the mugascan results came back and that everything was a "go" for chemo so far - except, perhaps, for my emotional state...) My nurse, Lynda, started my IV on the first stick(!) (Thank you God) and the procedure went along without a hitch. I was awake but numbed and sedated and they told me that the drugs usually have an amnesiac quality to them. Maybe so, I don't remember many details of the procedure but I sure can tell you all the details of one of the staff member's son's ankle surgery...I have one of those faces...people just want to tell me things...

So now I have a Power Port. Apparently this is something new. I have to carry a card in my wallet and I even have a bracelet and something for my key chain if I want. Not only can it be accessed like a regular port, but with a special needle it can be used for CT contrast, etc. I am hoping that this will make my life a little easier. I have the PET scheduled for Wednesday, Oct 1st, I want to get my hair cut and go to the dentist before chemo starts, and maybe get a few things squared away at the practice and the Sharing Network...the juggling is getting easier.

More next week....unless I can't sleep...

Tiny Veins and Giant Spores

Hello...I thought I would drag myself away from shopping for hats online to write a brief update. Yesterday I went to Frankford Torresdale for my mugascan. At the desk the receptionist asked me to sign some forms for release of information, etc. She handed me a clipboard and I proceeded to sign the necessary forms...well...she looked up at me and said, "Oh, just one form...oh..." Apparently I had signed all the forms on her clipboard... thereby giving my consent for everyone to have a mugascan into the new year - huzzah! (Luckily, I am not the first person to do this so ther were only about half a dozen forms there - I like to use poetic license...)

Then came the mission impossible search for a vein. I needed two injections 20 minutes apart, with the second one containing a radioactive substance so that they could take pictures of the chambers of my heart. It was tough but they were finally able to get both injections into my hand. It's even harder now since they can only look on my left side. When I went into the scanner, the techs couldn't see anything. I was wondering if that had anything to do with the fact that I couldn't put both hands up over my head like they asked. (They had finally told me that I could put one up and one down) But apparently they couldn't see anything because "it" was taking a longer time since they had to inject "it" into my hand. I offered to hold my hand up and pump and that seemed to work. The whole process took about an hour and a half. We went to DQ last night after dinner to celebrate.

Today we went to see Dr. Kennedy to talk about chemo. I learned more about chemo than I ever wanted to know. My particular drugs are pretty powerful and have potentially many side effects. Luckily there are medications to try to prevent or stay ahead of these side effects. I got about 8 presciptions. I will lose my hair and there is nothing to do about that except to find some comfy head coverings. I'll take medications at home before and after each treatment - which I will receive over 4 hours or so as an out-pt every 3 weeks. I'll start the chemo when all the test results are in. The mugascan results are not in yet and I still have the PET scan scheduled for next Wednesday (keep a good thought for that one because I really don't want to move into stage 4...)

I had to have blood drawn today for the port placement scheduled for Friday. After 7 "extended" sticks we all agreed that I would go to Frankford Bucks out-patient department tomorrow and have them try. I am glad I'm getting a port...

The most memorable part of the trip was seeing a GIANT Mushroom on the edge of Dr. Kennedy's parking lot. It was the size of a basketball and there were more just like it in the woods nearby...I think I saw this one on Alfred Hitchcock Presents...more later...as always - thanks for listening.

Next On the Agenda...

Hello...I'm back. Well, after that last blog I had to take a breath and have a long talk with God. I am happy to say that not only are we still on speaking terms (me and God), but that our relationship is stronger than ever. The author Anne Lamott says that there are really only two prayers -"Help me, help me, help me," and "thank you , thank you, thank you." I have been praying both of those prayers non-stop for some time now. I do feel the presence of God and I am comforted. Earlier in the diagnosis I actually felt the presence of my grandmother and that was comforting as well.

Today was a red letter day for me - I got my last drain out!! Many of you have seen me catch a piece of clothing on a door jamb or on the back of a chair, etc. Well imagine how nerve-wracking it was for me to know that I was always just a hair away from catching that tubing on something. Just thinking about it now makes me cringe. So I went to Dr. Simmons office (she was not there...I am assuming that she was home enjoying her new baby boy) and her nurse Cindy did the honors.

I did spend a beautiful day down the shore after all that, and when I got home I started in with the next round...I am scheduled for a mugascan at Frankford Torresdale on Monday the 22nd to make sure that my heart can handle the chemo - hope there are no surprises there...I know they have to inject dye and I have to be able to put my hands over my head so I am already starting to hydrate and brush my hair incessantly in order to strengthen my arm... On Tuesday, the 23rd, I have an appointment with my oncologist, Julia Kennedy, to discuss what chemo will look like for the next 5-6 months. Then on Friday, the 26th, I will go into Frankford Bucks and have a port put in. On Saturday, Susan is riding her bike 75 miles - city to shore for MS, and on Sunday I'm planning to go to a wedding. Then on Wednesday, Oct 1st, I'll have a PET Scan and then I can relax until chemo begins (which will probably be 20 minutes after I get out of the PET Scan...) So, I don't know about the rest of you but my calendar is full. Even so, Mauri, if it is at all possible I would love to be your poster child drummer at the Susan G. Komen Race on Oct. 5th. I can't call myself a breast cancer survivor yet but I think that is just a technicality...(power of positive thinking).

I'll be back next week, if not sooner, to tell you about all my adventures. Until then - Thank you, thank you, thank you...

What?? I mean What??

OK...so...we're back from the breast cancer team meeting. As you may remember, my biggest concern was around the staging of the cancer. We had felt that it would be Stage One or if the tumor was bigger than 2 cm then it would be stage two (as long as the lymph nodes were clear). Well, according to the pathologist, the cancer measured 8.5cm...clearly a shock to us all - including Dr. Simmons who said that she promptly called the pathologist and asked that the "typo" be changed. She said that he called her back within minutes and said, "I don't make typos." I said, "My whole breast does not measure 8.5cm..." Anyway, in that moment, I went from joking about wearing too much pink, and learning to feel what it's like to be a person with cancer (cancer patient?), to "Yikes, I am in a real fight for my life." (No melodrama intended) This puts the staging of the cancer at a Stage 3...

There are some positives though, we found it and I had a mastectomy - I owe my life to Dr. Canavan's persistence in the face of negative studies, the sentinal node and the lymph nodes are clear - BIG Plus, and there are one or two others that have to do with hormones, etc. that don't mean alot to the average person without detailed explanations.

So, here is what I know. Dr. Julia Kennedy will be my medical oncologist. She saw me as a second opinion for the fake lymphoma two summers ago and has the results to my PET Scan, etc. from that time that were all negative. Some of you may remember that I even had a bone marrow biopsy at that time. I really like and trust her. I really like and trust the whole team. She will be arranging some tests for me (CT/PET scan, mugascan) and I will have a port put in so that I won't have to be stuck a million times for bloodwork and chemo. I'll start chemo in mid- October. Dr. Kennedy said she'll give me the details when I see her in her office but I will be getting a combination of Toxotere, Adriamycin, and Cytoxin every 3 weeks or so for a period of 20-24 weeks (5-6 months (!) those of you who are doing the math) This will be followed by tamoxifen and then femara.

Then I saw Dr. Eric Gressen who is my radiation oncologist. His sense of humor is a good match for mine. Once the chemo is over, I'll have 5 weeks of daily radiation. Then, if Dr. Simmons has had her baby by that time...(actually, she is scheduled for a section tomorrow at 10am, so please keep her in your prayers), then I will have another mastectomy with simultaneous reconstruction of both breasts. Dr. Simmons said (and we all agree) that she would never feel comfortable telling me that everything was okay with the left breast considering how many curves were thrown our way with the other one. Also, most of the people in my family who have had breast cancer (and there are many) have been diagnosed with cancer in both breasts at some point so this makes sense to me. She said that if all things go in our favor I should be stepping back into the world treatment free (except for tamoxifen,etc) by this time next year. Then I got rid of one drain and kept the other till probably next week.

Hmmm...This is a lot of information for you and for me...so I think I need to take a breath and regroup a bit. I am grateful for all the positives, I am grateful for all of you, and I am grateful for my sense of humor that still seems to be intact - I'll need all of these and more before this journey begins to wind down. I need to keep writing and I need you to keep reading. Other than that, your prayers and good wishes are always welcome. Thanks for listening...

One Week Post-OP

Hi! Just a quick update - I was able to go to JFK yesterday to be evaluated for certification as a Clinical Chaplain. I was there from 1pm to 3pm but I was finally recommended for certification. (I only had to use the cancer card and pull out my drains once...). This is a big weight off my shoulders. Now, at whatever point in the future I'll be able to work regularly again, I'll be able to get a job. I was exhausted afterward but I think I would have been under any circumstances. Tomorrow I have my post-op appointment with Dr. Simmons (who apparently didn't have her baby yet...) I get to meet with the Breast Center Team - medical oncologist, radiation oncologist, nutritionist, plastic surgeon, etc. They all review my case and offer me options. Thank you all for your continued prayers and well wishes. I am enjoying the drawings, flowers, plants, fruit, cards, blog responses and e-mails. I've heard from some of you that it has been hard to post a response to the blog. You have to create an account first (free) so that just anyone can't post an inappropriate response and not be accountable. If you're still having problems let me know and I'll have someone who knows what they're talking about (clearly not me) walk you through it. It has been very helpful to read your comments (and song lyrics...) More tomorrow after the doctor's appointment...

More from the Uniboober...

Anyway, where was I, Sue went to Goodwill and bought me some Large men's shirts that button down the front so that I could cover all my paraphenalia. Col's become an expert with the drains (it takes a village...), and Mary Lou came over to visit and to accompany us to the graduation (or to stay with me if I wasn't up to it since Colleen is doing the invocation and the benediction) I slept a little in the afternoon and then we headed out to the Keswick Theater. I saw Dan Fogelberg play there in his last east coast concert before his testicular cancer diagnosis. (Hey - I have a captive audience - sad, but you are reading whatever I choose to type...I'll try to be selective) Thank you to everyone who showed up to support Sue - Mauri, Lorraine, MaryLou, Liz, Tara, John, Joe, and especially to Colleen for doing the prayers - they were perfect. Sue worked really hard and it was nice to be able to celebrate her achievement with her. Sue also won the Board of Trustees Award for Excellence in Nursing. It was a standout moment that I didn't want to miss. It was my intent to update this blog when we got home but apparently I fell asleep with my hands on the keyboard...

I only woke up once or twice so I am well rested this morning. I plan to to nothing much other than resting until my next adventure.

Oh, I forgot this part. The sentinal node was clear! yea! Which is good news. Dr. Simmons took out more lymph nodes and sent them to pathology though. Since she did a mastectomy she won't know the size of the cancer until the pathology report comes back in about a week. Then she will be able to stage it and move on to the next level of treatment. If it is over 2 cm then Stage 2, under 2cm, Stage 1. There was some talk of anti-hormonal medication but more on that after my post op appointment. The pain pump will be taken out by us (!) in a day or two, and the drains will be taken out in the Dr's office next week. Thanks for listening...

Introducing the Uniboober

Hi! I'm back! Interesting detour...We had a great weekend at Colleen's folks - great food, great company and Susan learned to paint strawberries, ladybugs and snowman faces. I lounged at the pool and even went for a boat ride (thanks John). Monday night I had to stop eating and drinking by midnight. Usually if you tell me I can't do something I want to do it all the more but I was prepping for surgery. Butter Pecan ice cream was my "last supper" at 10:30 pm...we won't mention the goodies we took home from Sharon and Tim's. I read and listened to all your well wishes. Know how much they make a difference. Before this I knew that they were a nice thing to do but I didn't realize just what an impact they have. And thank you Mauri and Lorraine for the beautiful song (to the tune of Bye Bye Blackbird...well you get the picture...) Tuesday we were up bright and early and in Frankford by 8am. The surgery was scheduled for 10:15am but I wasn't taken in to the OR until almost 1. The waiting was hard. Once I got there I just wanted it to be over and on the way to recovery. Everyone was really lovely but the anesthesiologist could not wrap his mind around how I could not possibly be pregnant. He wanted a urine specimen even after I told him that I was gay. He said that, "Women can get pregnant till they're 60 years old and it was not an unreasonable request"...I told him that by "gay" I didn't mean happy (necessarily, but of course I am happy...maybe not on that day but usually....) He had a Russian accent and I was thinking that maybe something got lost in the translation. He remained stern but I didn't give a urine...Then he couldn't find a vein to start an IV and began sweating. They opted to bring me in to the OR without one and put a gas mask on my face and get one there. He got to push the stretcher with the Nurse Anesthetist and was explaining to her all the while that it wasn't his fault - that it was just my veins. Perhaps true, I was a little dehydrated, but it interfered with my loving thoughts and positive imagery that I was trying to bring with me into the surgery. After he bumped the stretcher for the second time in the doorway to the OR I looked at the nurse and said, "It isn't his gift." She started laughing and he walked away in a huff. I went to sleep knowing that this was the person who was going to wake me up after all was said and done...maybe I shouldn't have been so hard on him...

I woke up in the recovery room somewhere around 3 o'clock (there was a clock on the wall) And by 5-5:30pm I was in my room. I had a foley catheter, nasal cannula, IV, two drains and a pain pump. And truthfully, I felt better than I expected. I asked for some morphine (they told me to stay ahead of the pain) and I felt great. That was the last pain medication I needed - the pump really did its job. Susan and Colleen were great and learned how to empty my drains (although I think Susan already knew having gone to nursing school and all) By 10:30pm I was asleep and slept well for a few hours at a time, just waking up for vitals. The nurses and CNAs were amazing. They were upbeat and responded well to my humor. Now I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea and think I'm living in denial - I had my prayer time and my healing meditations and my ongoing grieving for the loss of something near and dear to my heart, but those of you reading this know that humor is my hallmark. When my cousin Joey had a kidney removed due to cancer I brought him a can of kidney beans. That broke the tension and allowed us to really talk. Now back to my story.

Wednesday morning I knew I was going to be able to talk my surgeon into letting me out early to go to Sue's Nursing School Graduation. By 6am Angela (great nurse) had pulled everything out except the pain pump and drains. I was beginning to feel like myself again. Sue was with me before graduation practice and Colleen was there to see the reaction on Dr. Simmon's face. I was the healthiest-looking cancer patient she had ever seen (in part due to the lovely tan I got this weekend). I had done everything on the list I needed to do before they would consider discharge - I peed on my own and I ate something solid (if you consider a pancake solid). I was home before lunch -less than 24 hours after surgery. It is amazing to me since I remember my mother's surgeries requiring a much lengthier stay. I'm going to post this and then continue my story.

Surgery Scheduled

Just a quick update before we head out for the weekend to let you know that surgery has been scheduled for Tuesday, September 2nd at 10:15 am at Frankford Torresdale. The second surgery will be scheduled in about a month. Keep you posted. More Monday.

The saga continues...

Post#2

Hello again. I am overwhelmed by all of your posts and e-mails and phone calls. I can't tell you how much they all mean. Here's what's been happening. I went to see Dr. Gottlieb (plastic surgeon) about recontruction options on Tuesday, August 26th. Ideally, I would have wanted to have all of the surgery at once so that I could just begin the business of healing, but it looks as if that is not going to happen. Drs. Gottlieb and Simmons got together and could have cleared their schedules for this Friday if I had wanted to do the reconstruction with implants. I am actually going to have reconstruction using my own tissue - muscle from my abdominal wall. This surgery takes 4-5 hours, requires a 5 day stay in the hospital, and has a recovery time of 6-8 weeks. Since this requires blocking off an OR for so many hours, Dr. Gottlieb said that he would not be able to do it on Friday and is not available next Tuesday or Wednesday. After that Dr. Simmons will be preoccupied having her baby. So I opted to have the mastectomy first, recover for 3 or 4 weeks, and then have the reconstruction. I was happy to think that I would have the surgery on Friday, because then I would definitely be able to go to Susan's graduation next Wednesday. I was a little sad however because we were supposed to spend the holiday weekend with Colleen's parents. In true "just when you thought it was safe ..." fashion, all plans changed again. Since I am going to have the reconstruction at a later date, Dr. Simmons didn't have to bump her Friday surgeries for me. So I am scheduled for surgery on Tuesday morning (Sept. 2nd) I have tentatively talked Dr. Simmons into letting me leave the hospital a day early (with the understanding that I would be surrounded by nurses) to go to Sue's graduation. Her office manager said that I would have to sit in the back seat "in case...you know..." I said, "What?" "Well, in case you had an accident you wouldn't want to be anywhere near the airbags." No, I wouldn't want anything between me and the windshield except a snug seatbelt...So now I'm looking for prayers for traveling mercies as well as for the surgery itself...

I was surprised and delighted when Col and I took a ride into Princeton to have lunch with Amy (one of my CPE colleagues) and were met by Amelia, Grier, and Eric as well. The only one of us that was missing was Laura, who is in South Carolina, and she was with us in spirit. As Colleen observed, "Nothing like cancer to bring a group together..." Eric, who has had to put up with countless conversations about "women's issues", was confronted yet again with a new challenge. He rose to the occasion beautifully. Group prayer at Panera's rounded off the lunch.

That's all for now...we'll be away for the weekend, back Monday. Monday evening we hope to have an intimate prayer circle...to say, "Bye bye boobie." (MaryLou, I can hear your groan from here) Thanks for all your support.

P.S.

P.S. - Since I have no idea how to create blogs...Colleen helped me with this. Acre100 is her e-mail not mine...technology....

In the Beginning....

Post #1

Hello, welcome to my new blog. If you are here then you know by now that I have been recently diagnosed with breast cancer. Can you imagine? Well at least that cuts down on my anxiety about how I will ever find a job as a chaplain - at least for a little while. A few months ago in a routine breast self-exam I found a lump and a dimpling in my right breast. I went to see Dr. Canavan, the oncologist that I have been following up with for that "fake lymphoma" scare, and he sent me for a mammogram and an ultrasound. They were both negative but he told me that he was "unnerved" by what he had felt and wanted me to have an MRI and to see a breast surgeon. I went for the MRI (which was read as negative) and made an appointment with Dr. Jennifer Simmons (at Frankford Hospital - where Sue works - in Philadelphia). I am nothing if not a compliant patient. I saw Dr. Simmons on Tuesday August 19th and she did an exam and pulled out her ultasound machine. I felt her demeanor change and by the time she told me that she wanted to do a biopsy I pretty much knew what the results would show. On Friday, the 22nd, she called to tell me that I had breast cancer. It's interesting how time can actually stop for a few moments. Anyway, I had the weekend to sit with this information and today, Monday August 25th I had another appointment with Dr. Simmons. Susan and Colleen came with me. She could not have been nicer. She explained everything, all my options, and left whatever time we needed to ask questions. She showed us the MRI, which she did not read as negative and said that she would go over it with the radiologist...she has been working to have breast dedicated (specialists) radiologists reading these kinds of films for just this reason. I have what is called Invasive Lobular Carcinoma and we won't know the stage until after my surgery when we see if the lymph nodes are positive. Based on size alone it is between Stage I and Stage II. (I personally am thinking, "Exit, stage left...") One of the challenges to scheduling surgery is the fact that Dr. Simmons is pregnant and set to deliver her second child perhaps even as I am writing this. She is not comfortable planning any surgeries after next Wednesday so mine (mastectomy) will be scheduled sometime in that time frame. We have an appointment to see a plastic surgeon tomorrow to discuss reconstruction options (I didn't realize there were so many) and to set a date for the surgery. These two Drs. work together during surgery and when Dr. Simmons is done, Dr. Gottlieb will still have another 3-4 hours to go. So much for the facts up to this point. I got the idea for this blog from my friend Bev who said that it is an easier way to keep people up to date than having to field phone calls and repeat the same information. I agree. And it will also give me the opportunity to write about my experience. I would love to hear from people so please send your comments to this blog, e-mail, etc. I can use all the prayers and good energy I can get. The few people who do know this information already have asked me how I am feeling. I'm really feeling okay at this point. I think I will heal and do well. I have confidence in my doctor and wonderfully supportive friends/family. The only thing that I am a little anxious about is the staging. And I am sad that I might miss Sue's Graduation from nursing school. Oh, and I am scheduled to sit for my certification as a Clinical Chaplain on Sept 9th...so wish me luck...Thank you in advance for your support and for caring enough to read this. Just keeping you abreast (hee hee). More later......