I debated about how to title this post, actually I still think it needs work. Since I can't settle on one direction, I am going to go with some emotions and feelings that encompass what starting chemo meant for me. Hopefully, with some stories sprinkled in it will make for a good read!
I shall not fear--there is nothing to fear when you are following your heart. I'm not particularly churchy, but I am grateful for the faith that I learned from my parents. I am especially grateful for those who have allowed God into every inch of their lives so that they have words and sights of Him that I have been struggling with lately (Aunt Maria, your texts and words and smiles and prayers make a difference for me daily. If you've added me to your personal or public prayers I am grateful.) I am afraid of where this path is taking me, and how far it will knock me down, and how I will answer when Elizabeth asks why I am crying now..... BUT I at the same time I am not afraid. Tears are healing, doctors are wise (and when they operate as a team they are a mighty force). I have faith that while the path is bumpy and unclear right now, one foot in front of the other is going to work just fine. (I can even say good night prayers with the kids without tears now--"Good night God. I am going to bed. Work is over. Prayers are said. I am not afraid of night. You will watch 'til morning light. Amen"
Laughter makes you smile--even with a giant needle sticking out of your shoulder. So before I explain the laughter side, I suppose I ought to tell about my first chemo experience.
Chemo itself was remarkably unremarkable. An hour before my appointment, I applied my magic cream and covered it with Press-and-Seal. I said a little prayer that I did it right and covered the port properly so that the poke wouldn't hurt. Mom and I arrived at my oncology doctor's office right on time. I was still a bit sore from the port placement/biopsy surgery, but in good spirits and ready to blast the heck out of this cancer. We were called back quickly, and escorted past a row of recliners to room 2 (I will have to ask about the difference between the areas next time, my guess is that the row is for people who have short treatments or don't have company for the day). After I was weighed and blood pressure taken, Nurse Cheryl came in to start my IV. She explained everything she was doing. She cleansed the port area, and she and Mom had a chuckle about iodine. Something about a dropper bottle of it that you would clean your wound with then put the dropper back into the bottle... I felt like a kid, safe, protected. "Now I am going to stabilize the port. (she put her hand firmly around the port) Take a deep breath and relax." Then there was pressure and Cheryl declared the port working. I cried. Hard tears. Ones that I had been holding for a long time. It was nice to feel protected and safe and scared for that moment.
Then it was time to get down to business. She withdrew a syringe of blood that would be tossed and then a second so she could check my blood count. She brought back my copy of the blood count (my white cells, infection fighters, had been low and I was worried that with both kids on antibiotics that I may have been even lower and then this whole battle would be postponed). I was beyond ecstatic that they were up!!! Cheryl started the pre-drugs (4 total) for anti-nausea, they took a little more than an hour to drip in. Then it was time, the Adriamycin was red in color and was put into the IV by hand. With promises of technicolor bathroom breaks, one down one to go. Then the Cytoxan was connected to the IV and another hour of dripping. Easy peasy lemon squeezey.
It was just after the good stuff started that I got a text message. It simply said, "Why did the blonde get fired from the M&M factory?" After thinking for a moment, and knowing that I should know the answer, I replied that I had no idea. "She threw out all the W's." Good for a chuckle, but I have to share that my mom had me rolling in a matter of moments. She didn't get it, I really had to explain it. It had been a tough morning, but with that little joke and a good laugh things seemed to lighten up a little.
I get by with a little help from my friends--This is a long one. I have so many friends in big and small ways that deserve thanks that I'm not even going to feign that I am going to get you all. So no hard feelings, please, it is not intentional. Let's start with the ever close Facebook family. Those of you who click like and offer encouraging words, when the world seems quiet a single click reminds me that there are others out there. Everyone should have friends (well I guess I should really call them colleagues, but it just isn't right) as good as I do. Between the numerous emails of support, the threats of making me go home early, and drive by offers of help (Barry, I may need that one particular offer in the near future) to the forget me not plant that is hopefully getting some sunshine across the hall and fighting its own courageous battle for life; I have truly been blessed with the best staff of friends ever. (I know I say it a lot, but I really mean it!!!) Then there are those that I will never be able to describe my gratitude for properly. Julie and Lisa, your box of chemo treats were a huge treat and reminder to take it easy. (I've finished The Hunger Games.)
Family--Near and far, blood, in-law, tribe..... I think that my favorite family quote from this week is from my Dad, "nothing tougher than a Zupsic." So far, I agree with the assessment. :)
Love doesn’t make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile.
Franklin P. Jones
I have to include one last story. I am on an antibiotic to help keep my white blood cell count up called Nupogen. It has to be injected, and Sean has pulled the short straw on being the nurse extraordinaire. Elizabeth decided to be his assistant on his first go round. She promised to hold my hand and then disappeared. Sean needed a calmer environment so we went to the basement (that used to have such a different connotation). I was giving him instructions, when Elizabeth quietly slid her hand into mine. Sean said take a deep breath, I reminded him to go at an angle, and a quick second later it was done. Elizabeth quickly unwrapped a Barbie bandaid and covered the poke on my tummy. "All better?"
Yep, I'm going to be all better soon enough. :)
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Dance Party Weekend
This weekend the Sturgeon family had FUN!
Saturday, I took my Thirty-One bags and set up a vendor table at the Michigan Pole Dancing, Aerial Arts, and Vaudeville Festival. My friend Julie came as my assistant and we had a blast. While the business side of being there wasn't so great, we made new friends and did some behind the scenes work to help keep the video rolling. Julie had a chance to get in some practice time on the silks. Our table happened to be right next to Alethea Austin who was kind and danced like no other. (Yes, I got her autograph and a sweatshirt and leg warmers.) After reading her bio (see link above), I have a new found respect for her and her wish I had taken more opportunity to talk with her. I will be stealing her "push past" mantra as often as I need it in the next few weeks. In addition to Alethea there were performers from all over the midwest. The level of support and kindness given to each performer was incredible. I knew that the pole community was fun and friendly, but I couldn't have speculated on the depth and breadth of support to one another. It just make me consider performing next year. I'm thinking my stage name will be Lola Lot or Lady Lumps...... or perhaps I will find something better in the coming months. OR perhaps I will decide not to perform, but instead be a part of the crew again. Either way, I can't wait to see what next year brings to this event.
Sunday, was our house warming and Jakob's 4th birthday party. WOW is all I can say. The number of friends and family that came over to celebrate was incredible. It was such a fun day of tours of our house and playing with kids. Remembering old times with friends we haven't seen in a while. Some people just popped in for a few minutes, some stayed all day, everyone made me smile. Aunt Maria shaved Uncle Kevin's head and beard in the backyard. I embarrassed myself in talking about doors with a cousin. My Uncle Paul was in from Pennsylvania and came up from Toledo with my mom. Toasts for health and happiness were made. We are so loved.
We can't wait for our next shindig!
Oh, ladies who are interested in trying out pole dancing are invited to come on March 31st to Pole Addiction in Ferndale. Julie and I have a private party scheduled from 7-9pm. I may not be able to play along, but I am planning to be there!!! Let me know if you are coming so we are sure to have enough instructors.
Saturday, I took my Thirty-One bags and set up a vendor table at the Michigan Pole Dancing, Aerial Arts, and Vaudeville Festival. My friend Julie came as my assistant and we had a blast. While the business side of being there wasn't so great, we made new friends and did some behind the scenes work to help keep the video rolling. Julie had a chance to get in some practice time on the silks. Our table happened to be right next to Alethea Austin who was kind and danced like no other. (Yes, I got her autograph and a sweatshirt and leg warmers.) After reading her bio (see link above), I have a new found respect for her and her wish I had taken more opportunity to talk with her. I will be stealing her "push past" mantra as often as I need it in the next few weeks. In addition to Alethea there were performers from all over the midwest. The level of support and kindness given to each performer was incredible. I knew that the pole community was fun and friendly, but I couldn't have speculated on the depth and breadth of support to one another. It just make me consider performing next year. I'm thinking my stage name will be Lola Lot or Lady Lumps...... or perhaps I will find something better in the coming months. OR perhaps I will decide not to perform, but instead be a part of the crew again. Either way, I can't wait to see what next year brings to this event.
Sunday, was our house warming and Jakob's 4th birthday party. WOW is all I can say. The number of friends and family that came over to celebrate was incredible. It was such a fun day of tours of our house and playing with kids. Remembering old times with friends we haven't seen in a while. Some people just popped in for a few minutes, some stayed all day, everyone made me smile. Aunt Maria shaved Uncle Kevin's head and beard in the backyard. I embarrassed myself in talking about doors with a cousin. My Uncle Paul was in from Pennsylvania and came up from Toledo with my mom. Toasts for health and happiness were made. We are so loved.
We can't wait for our next shindig!
Oh, ladies who are interested in trying out pole dancing are invited to come on March 31st to Pole Addiction in Ferndale. Julie and I have a private party scheduled from 7-9pm. I may not be able to play along, but I am planning to be there!!! Let me know if you are coming so we are sure to have enough instructors.
Step 1: More Tests, Chemo Class, and Port Placement
I have had a rough few Mondays. On the 19th, I spent the day at Oakwood hospital getting more tests. They made me radioactive in nuclear medicine, then I had to drink the magic water in radiology. I was told by radiology to back in an hour for the CT scan, after that test was completed I was sent back to the basement to nuclear medicine for the bone scan. Between the two tests I was asked to lie still for about an hour total. OH, if only that is where that day ended, I was then sent next door to have an MRI of the head. If you've never had this kind of MRI, picture the man in the iron mask only it's plastic. Gratefully this machine was not as closed off (or maybe the room was just brighter) and I had no motion sickness this time!!!
Then I headed over to the oncologist's office to learn about chemo. I learned about how it would be given, what medications I will be given, the side effects.... I will have 8 chemo treatments total, since they are to be given every other week it will take 16 weeks to complete the 2 series. My medications will be given through an IV (actually a port, but more on that in a moment). I will do 4 treatments of "AC" and then 4 treatments of "Taxol." I will also be given Herceptin (for a year) since my cancer is HER2+. Then there are the side effects... the obvious few: fatigue, nausea, vomiting, hairloss and then the less obvious: mouth sores, constipation or diarrhea, dry mouth, extra dry skin, disruption to menstrual cycle, reduced sperm count....
Then came the prescriptions that I have to take here at home, with instructions that were more complicated than what can be put onto a label by the pharmacy. I have a feeling that I will no longer suck at taking my medicine. Especially the numbing cream so it doesn't hurt when they poke the needle into my chemo port.
(I apologize that this post is all over the place I feel like I have had so much going on that chronology is failing me.)
One of the most interesting parts of my chemo class was learning about the port that I had installed yesterday. It is a small disk with a silicone button on top and a thin tube at the bottom. It was surgically placed on my left side (near the clavicle) and the tube is inside a major vein. When I go for chemo they will just poke into the silicone and get/give what they need directly to my blood stream.
Thursday afternoon found me with another trip to Oakwood's Nuclear Medicine for a MUGA test and then to cardiology for an EKG. I would like to take this moment to say that of all the places that I have visited in the Oakwood system (and there have been many in the past year) I would gladly go to nuclear medicine again. First reason, they were nice. Second, they looked and sounded like they got along very well (lots of laughing and lots of smiles and conversations). Third, their waiting room was comfortable and quiet. And finally, they recognized me. I like it when people look at you and say hi in a way that says I know I've seen you recently, I really don't remember why/when, but its nice to see you again.
(oooooh I think I might need 4 posts today, Saturday and sunday adventures don't belong here.)
SO, let me tell you about another adventure in surgery... Monday, March 26, I had my chemo port placed and a sentinel node biopsy. I had to get to the hospital at 8:00 to register for surgery, then I had to go back to nuclear medicine to become radioactively dyed. The kind nurse in nuc med brought me back to the room and had me put on a lovely hospital gown. Then she squirted numbing cream on my right breast and had me rub it in (she could have been a contender, but gave up the chance for groper #15). Then she went to get the doctor who came in, fondled the lump (making him #15), then he signed my chest and poked me 4 times with the radioactive dye. (I have to add to this section that I now have 3 pieces of paper to carry with me if I leave the country so that I don't upset any authorities with my radioactive self. AND I plan to turn into a math lesson in the next chapter for my seniors--if med #1 has a half-life of ___ and they gave me _____, how long does that mean it will be in my system.)
Then we were taken to the surgical wing, and I was brought back to be prepped. Nurse Jim and I had a good chuckle over putting in my IV (he offered me the chance to do it myself, as a joke, and I passed on that opportunity) We got to chatting about kids and school, he almost forgot to go get Sean. Then I was accused of being high maintenance when I said I was cold, and another nurse threatened to put a Justin Beiber tattoo on me during surgery. Since it was 10am when I was prepped and ready and Sean was finally back at my side we had an hour and a half to listen to the drama around us. I think we may have been the only people laughing in the area. The lady across the hall sounded like Large Marge (from PeeWee's adventure) the lady to the right of my curtain got up to pee 4 times and asked if she was going to feel anything while she was out. Then they brought in a woman who was to have her leg amputated, but that one didn't make us laugh. Diagonal from us they brought in a woman who was taking so much medicine that the nurse had to come back to talk to her because she had missed a page. Then there were the nurses who talk too loudly and the visitors who walked by... By the time it was my turn (nearly 1pm) we had laughed a lot.
(Insert Sean's adventures in waiting here)(AKA manning the phones for updates/progress reports)
Then there is the recovery room. I had a really hard time waking up, that is until they wheeled in a crazy lady next to me. She must have been the kind of person who doesn't listen to directions because she was ornery enough to wake my butt up and do everything in my power to get out. She was loud and whiny. She didn't understand that she was asking the nurse to do exactly what she was doing. It was a good thing that they finally let Sean come back because I was awake enough (and sore enough) to start shouting back at her. All I wanted to say was, "shut up you stupid cow and listen to what they are telling you to do." Sean kept giving me the evil eye so I kept my mouth closed. (If my friend Kelly had been there instead, we might have ended up in BIG trouble.) Instead, we focused on getting out of there and in telling my nurse that we are certain that she had been my nurse last year when I had my appendectomy.
I guess this means that I am officially on the road to kicking breast cancer ass. First chemo treatment is Thursday! I'm scared and nervous. BUT I am brave and I am strong! And with the help of my friends and family I will win!
Then I headed over to the oncologist's office to learn about chemo. I learned about how it would be given, what medications I will be given, the side effects.... I will have 8 chemo treatments total, since they are to be given every other week it will take 16 weeks to complete the 2 series. My medications will be given through an IV (actually a port, but more on that in a moment). I will do 4 treatments of "AC" and then 4 treatments of "Taxol." I will also be given Herceptin (for a year) since my cancer is HER2+. Then there are the side effects... the obvious few: fatigue, nausea, vomiting, hairloss and then the less obvious: mouth sores, constipation or diarrhea, dry mouth, extra dry skin, disruption to menstrual cycle, reduced sperm count....
Then came the prescriptions that I have to take here at home, with instructions that were more complicated than what can be put onto a label by the pharmacy. I have a feeling that I will no longer suck at taking my medicine. Especially the numbing cream so it doesn't hurt when they poke the needle into my chemo port.
(I apologize that this post is all over the place I feel like I have had so much going on that chronology is failing me.)
One of the most interesting parts of my chemo class was learning about the port that I had installed yesterday. It is a small disk with a silicone button on top and a thin tube at the bottom. It was surgically placed on my left side (near the clavicle) and the tube is inside a major vein. When I go for chemo they will just poke into the silicone and get/give what they need directly to my blood stream.
Thursday afternoon found me with another trip to Oakwood's Nuclear Medicine for a MUGA test and then to cardiology for an EKG. I would like to take this moment to say that of all the places that I have visited in the Oakwood system (and there have been many in the past year) I would gladly go to nuclear medicine again. First reason, they were nice. Second, they looked and sounded like they got along very well (lots of laughing and lots of smiles and conversations). Third, their waiting room was comfortable and quiet. And finally, they recognized me. I like it when people look at you and say hi in a way that says I know I've seen you recently, I really don't remember why/when, but its nice to see you again.
(oooooh I think I might need 4 posts today, Saturday and sunday adventures don't belong here.)
SO, let me tell you about another adventure in surgery... Monday, March 26, I had my chemo port placed and a sentinel node biopsy. I had to get to the hospital at 8:00 to register for surgery, then I had to go back to nuclear medicine to become radioactively dyed. The kind nurse in nuc med brought me back to the room and had me put on a lovely hospital gown. Then she squirted numbing cream on my right breast and had me rub it in (she could have been a contender, but gave up the chance for groper #15). Then she went to get the doctor who came in, fondled the lump (making him #15), then he signed my chest and poked me 4 times with the radioactive dye. (I have to add to this section that I now have 3 pieces of paper to carry with me if I leave the country so that I don't upset any authorities with my radioactive self. AND I plan to turn into a math lesson in the next chapter for my seniors--if med #1 has a half-life of ___ and they gave me _____, how long does that mean it will be in my system.)
Then we were taken to the surgical wing, and I was brought back to be prepped. Nurse Jim and I had a good chuckle over putting in my IV (he offered me the chance to do it myself, as a joke, and I passed on that opportunity) We got to chatting about kids and school, he almost forgot to go get Sean. Then I was accused of being high maintenance when I said I was cold, and another nurse threatened to put a Justin Beiber tattoo on me during surgery. Since it was 10am when I was prepped and ready and Sean was finally back at my side we had an hour and a half to listen to the drama around us. I think we may have been the only people laughing in the area. The lady across the hall sounded like Large Marge (from PeeWee's adventure) the lady to the right of my curtain got up to pee 4 times and asked if she was going to feel anything while she was out. Then they brought in a woman who was to have her leg amputated, but that one didn't make us laugh. Diagonal from us they brought in a woman who was taking so much medicine that the nurse had to come back to talk to her because she had missed a page. Then there were the nurses who talk too loudly and the visitors who walked by... By the time it was my turn (nearly 1pm) we had laughed a lot.
(Insert Sean's adventures in waiting here)(AKA manning the phones for updates/progress reports)
Then there is the recovery room. I had a really hard time waking up, that is until they wheeled in a crazy lady next to me. She must have been the kind of person who doesn't listen to directions because she was ornery enough to wake my butt up and do everything in my power to get out. She was loud and whiny. She didn't understand that she was asking the nurse to do exactly what she was doing. It was a good thing that they finally let Sean come back because I was awake enough (and sore enough) to start shouting back at her. All I wanted to say was, "shut up you stupid cow and listen to what they are telling you to do." Sean kept giving me the evil eye so I kept my mouth closed. (If my friend Kelly had been there instead, we might have ended up in BIG trouble.) Instead, we focused on getting out of there and in telling my nurse that we are certain that she had been my nurse last year when I had my appendectomy.
I guess this means that I am officially on the road to kicking breast cancer ass. First chemo treatment is Thursday! I'm scared and nervous. BUT I am brave and I am strong! And with the help of my friends and family I will win!
Girls Gone Wild
It is just too strange to put this post's information in with my last post, so three posts for today!
Since there isn't much story to groper #13, I will simply leave her with her comment, "So now I know what I am feeling for when I check myself." Yep, and knowing is half the battle. :)
Apparently, I am all too open about this breast cancer challenge. I pretty much forced #14 to check it out when she said she had fibrous lumps. "I have fibrous breasts too, but this feels different. More like a pebble, harder than a fibrous area. WTH here check it out." And poof I had #14 all of my own doing.
Telling the kids
When to tell them, how much to tell them..... and what will help them to understand breast cancer and not be afraid. The when turned out to be easy. Elizabeth had to come to school with me on the same day that I was planning to tell my students. Since I had both Jake and Elizabeth that morning, I told them in the car. I don't remember the exact words, but it was something along the lines of I have a special kind of sick inside me that is going to take a lot of medicine to heal. Elizabeth asked some questions and wanted to know if I was going to cry all the time. She assured me that she would rub my back and tell everything is is ok just like I do when she cries. (Coincidentally, I have been more attentive to making sure that when I lose control and have to cry it out I try to make sure that she is not nearby.) Since then we have talked about all the changes that my body will undergo, her favorite thing to ask when I say I have a doctor's appointment is, "Are you going to get bald?" Soon, but not today.....
The other day Elizabeth hopped in to the shower with me, she was asking questions and wanted to know more. I asked if she wanted to feel the lump so she knew it was there and then she tell when it was shrinking after the medicine started working. She did, so I let her feel the lump (making her grope #12) and she asked if it hurt. Its tender, but it doesn't hurt if you are gentle.
Jake is just a little too young to really have much of a reaction. But he is a great echo and follows his big sister's lead very well.
The other day Elizabeth hopped in to the shower with me, she was asking questions and wanted to know more. I asked if she wanted to feel the lump so she knew it was there and then she tell when it was shrinking after the medicine started working. She did, so I let her feel the lump (making her grope #12) and she asked if it hurt. Its tender, but it doesn't hurt if you are gentle.
Jake is just a little too young to really have much of a reaction. But he is a great echo and follows his big sister's lead very well.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Adventures in Testing
So, I have learned my first lesson in this cancer battle the hard way: DO NOT FORGET TO RESEARCH the test you are about to have no matter how ordinary it may seem. My thoughts Wednesday night, "MRI is normal everyday stuff. All sorts of people get MRI's." Stupid move. What the heck was I thinking? I will never walk into a test without knowing what they are going to do to me again. I didn't drink enough water so the IV was difficult to start in my tiny veins. In my attempt to distract myself from the needle being twisted and poked around in my arm full of deflated veins, I discovered a new pet peeve. They didn't take the pictures off the walls when they painted the room. Seriously? There were 2 pictures total in the room, and it wasn't like they were hard to move (I checked). I wonder if the hospital equivalent of the principal knows and if they were pissed such a corner was cut... but enough about my ponderings...
The MRI was of both breasts which meant that I had to lay on the table face down. Actually, I laughed out loud when the nurse told me to get on my knees and aim for the holes. Then she walked around adjusting the girls so that they were dangling properly (for those who are counting, that makes person #10 to get a good grope). I must have started to panic because I remember asking her if the top was open after the table was slid into the machine. She said I could open my eyes and look. I did; it was a bad idea. I closed them back up and put my face back on the face rest, then the world started to spin. I have no idea if this normal, but it was like going to bed after a long night of college-aged drinking. (The kind where you just want the world to stop spinning and your friends suggest that you sleep with a foot on the floor.) Then the noises started. The loud ones, like a jack hammer, that have no discernible pattern or rhythm that scare you so bad that you even forget the words to the Lord's Prayer (I had to think about the proper title as "Our Father" was about all I could make my brain say for the first few minutes). And then you worry about how/why you could ever forget that piece of comfort..... Gratefully, my "Hail Mary" skills kicked in and after what felt like a hundred recitations I was actually able to listen to the music that was pumped into the headphones.
When it was over, I was motion sick (or perhaps the proper term is really motion nauseous since I didn't puke). I felt like such a weakling/dork for having to sit in a chair and wait for it to pass. I even asked for a juice. When they had it right there in the cabinet I felt a little better, but not really. I was expecting some sort of feedback right then, but none came. "Your doctor can access the results anytime. The second door on the left is the locker room. Good luck to you." Where was my brain then? I should have had a question, something so that I knew what they saw.... That will be this weekend's research project.
Friday was my meeting with the oncologist, Dr. Oscar Signori. He was recommended by the surgeon, but she said that there were a few that she has worked with.... I also had an appointment with my family doctor, Dr. Wright, beforehand. My real reason for meeting with Dr. Wright was for my bi-monthly check on my meds, but I also wanted his opinion on oncologist. I did all the normal height, weight, why are you here stuff with the nurse and she says doc will be right in. The next person to walk in is not Dr. Wright but a new medical student. I have to admit, that I pull student doctors all the time and I am normally patient and allow them to practice and the doctor to do the finishing touches. But I usually go in for a med check or a cold or stupid little things, this is just a bit different. So I started answering the what are we seeing you for today question pretty openly. "I am really here to get my adderol refilled, but I was diagnosed with breast cancer on Monday and I want Dr.Wright's opinion before my 11:00 appointment with the oncologist. I'm all for being a guinea pig, I'm a teacher and I know it is important to learn, but this time I really do want to talk to Dr. Wright."
I wish I could get the right words to describe how big the student's eyes got. I'm going to let my imagination run for a moment, but it was almost a look of hey good looking whatchya doing after the show turning into a look of utter horror. His eye were almost unsettling on someone in the medical profession. As a teacher, it was hilarious. At first he was offended that I would think he was just using me as a guinea pig, but when I continued it was a look of, "oh crap she's right, I'm not quite ready for this level of questions. I have none of the answers she is looking for." Then the over achiever in him took over and he just wanted to check it out. Unfortunately for those who are hoping to put a number behind his story he only got to feel my armpits, where apparently a node feels enlarged. After a series of blood tests, a chest x-ray, and finally my script being refilled I was out of there.
(I totally have to add that I was semi-surprised with a message from Sean that he, Jake and my dad were having breakfast at IHOP and I should join them. Upon arrival I discovered exactly how many Friday mornings they have gone to IHOP; the waitress knew that my son like his chocolate milk with a side of whipped cream and doted on him like the regular that he apparently is. Sean and I left from IHOP for my oncology appointment and Papa Joe and Jake were off an adventure back to the new house.)
(OH----I neglected to add in that when I told Dr. Wright about the oncology appointment and the doctor I was going to see, he was less than enthusiastic. He expressed confidence in Dr. Signori, but also stated that he would prefer me at U of M. Which, I think, may be why the end of my Friday was full of uncertainty.)
My mom drove up from Toledo to be at the oncology appointment, and arrived frazzled from the drive (don't ya hate when the directions take you out of the way or you shouldn't have used the directions because you really did know how to get most of the way there without them) and stressed out to the max. So into the office the trio of trepidation walks ready for someone to pull out the magic wand and wave this nightmare away. (Ok, so we know it can't happen, but secretly I know we were all hoping for someone to jump out with the candid camera and tell us it was a huge joke.)
The appointment with Dr. Signori was ... slow. Thorough would be another good word. His nursing staff was kind and funny. When she brought me a water to take some medicine, she also brought Mom and Sean each their own, "I brought one for you too because I would get jealous if I were in your shoes." When the doc came in I hadn't finished my questionnaire, so he went through the questions with me slowly, asking follow up questions that were often not on the papers. He wrote my answers down with notes next to them. When he finished the questions, he began the physical exam. Somewhere in this process I had made the mistake of telling my mom I was cold. So while I proclaimed that I was fine (and really I was, I'm always cold, it was probably warmer than my classroom), the doctor took out two paper blankets and covered me up and began his exam (#11 to check the lady lumps). It felt like the longest exam yet. I just wanted to shout, "seriously, its a lump, its right there." It was maddening at the time, but in retrospect I can see that he is an expert, he wants to know the whole picture personally. When he finished, he said that I should get dressed and then he would meet us in the conference room.
That felt like the walk of shame. And I don't mean that in a bad way necessarily, but I want some of you to know what kind of a feeling I am talking about more personally. The conference room was outside the exam room area, across the waiting room. While there were very few people in the waiting room (probably 2 at the most), it was as though they were look at me saying, "We know that walk, we know what you are doing. Welcome to the C-club. Good luck."
In the conference room Dr. Signori explained that my cancer, invasive (or infiltrating) ductal carcinoma is the most common type of breast cancer. That the MRI doesn't show anything new, or rather nothing that we weren't already aware of, and the lymph nodes appear good. There is no cancer in the left breast and it is not touching the muscle (there is separation). The biopsy report shows that my cancer is estrogen receptor positive, progesterone receptor positive, and HER2-positive which means that I have some very good options for medications. AND all of this makes me a good candidate for breast preservation (a lumpectomy instead of mastectomy). BUT there are no guarantees in this game and nothing is set in stone.
He outlined several options for treatment, and a rough timeline of what to expect. My team of doctors plus several other specialists meet on Fridays to discuss new cases and confer on treatment. Dr. Signori said that I would be a definite topic of discussion next Friday. For now, he wants me to have a bone scan, an MRI of the brain, and a CT scan to be certain that this isn't anywhere else. We decided that we would like to attempt to shrink the tumor (and see if it will respond to the types of medications it should) to make surgery easier, so I will have my chemo port put in within the week.
I have to say that I walked away from that appointment unsettled. I have been blaming it on a lack of connection with the doctor and a gut feeling that it wasn't right. But after a weekend to let it digest and to reflect I think I am in good hands. I am still going to seek a second opinion, but I am not going to abandon the forward motion that is currently underway. As my Aunt Pat told me tonight, for the medical world, I am moving at light speed and everything is going according to what she would expect. That was enough to make me able to get some rest tonight.
Some of the links I checked out this weekend:
http://www.cancer.org/Cancer/BreastCancer/DetailedGuide/breast-cancer-treating-by-stage
http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/diagnosis/her2.jsp
http://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/bone-scan
When it was over, I was motion sick (or perhaps the proper term is really motion nauseous since I didn't puke). I felt like such a weakling/dork for having to sit in a chair and wait for it to pass. I even asked for a juice. When they had it right there in the cabinet I felt a little better, but not really. I was expecting some sort of feedback right then, but none came. "Your doctor can access the results anytime. The second door on the left is the locker room. Good luck to you." Where was my brain then? I should have had a question, something so that I knew what they saw.... That will be this weekend's research project.
Friday was my meeting with the oncologist, Dr. Oscar Signori. He was recommended by the surgeon, but she said that there were a few that she has worked with.... I also had an appointment with my family doctor, Dr. Wright, beforehand. My real reason for meeting with Dr. Wright was for my bi-monthly check on my meds, but I also wanted his opinion on oncologist. I did all the normal height, weight, why are you here stuff with the nurse and she says doc will be right in. The next person to walk in is not Dr. Wright but a new medical student. I have to admit, that I pull student doctors all the time and I am normally patient and allow them to practice and the doctor to do the finishing touches. But I usually go in for a med check or a cold or stupid little things, this is just a bit different. So I started answering the what are we seeing you for today question pretty openly. "I am really here to get my adderol refilled, but I was diagnosed with breast cancer on Monday and I want Dr.Wright's opinion before my 11:00 appointment with the oncologist. I'm all for being a guinea pig, I'm a teacher and I know it is important to learn, but this time I really do want to talk to Dr. Wright."
I wish I could get the right words to describe how big the student's eyes got. I'm going to let my imagination run for a moment, but it was almost a look of hey good looking whatchya doing after the show turning into a look of utter horror. His eye were almost unsettling on someone in the medical profession. As a teacher, it was hilarious. At first he was offended that I would think he was just using me as a guinea pig, but when I continued it was a look of, "oh crap she's right, I'm not quite ready for this level of questions. I have none of the answers she is looking for." Then the over achiever in him took over and he just wanted to check it out. Unfortunately for those who are hoping to put a number behind his story he only got to feel my armpits, where apparently a node feels enlarged. After a series of blood tests, a chest x-ray, and finally my script being refilled I was out of there.
(I totally have to add that I was semi-surprised with a message from Sean that he, Jake and my dad were having breakfast at IHOP and I should join them. Upon arrival I discovered exactly how many Friday mornings they have gone to IHOP; the waitress knew that my son like his chocolate milk with a side of whipped cream and doted on him like the regular that he apparently is. Sean and I left from IHOP for my oncology appointment and Papa Joe and Jake were off an adventure back to the new house.)
(OH----I neglected to add in that when I told Dr. Wright about the oncology appointment and the doctor I was going to see, he was less than enthusiastic. He expressed confidence in Dr. Signori, but also stated that he would prefer me at U of M. Which, I think, may be why the end of my Friday was full of uncertainty.)
My mom drove up from Toledo to be at the oncology appointment, and arrived frazzled from the drive (don't ya hate when the directions take you out of the way or you shouldn't have used the directions because you really did know how to get most of the way there without them) and stressed out to the max. So into the office the trio of trepidation walks ready for someone to pull out the magic wand and wave this nightmare away. (Ok, so we know it can't happen, but secretly I know we were all hoping for someone to jump out with the candid camera and tell us it was a huge joke.)
The appointment with Dr. Signori was ... slow. Thorough would be another good word. His nursing staff was kind and funny. When she brought me a water to take some medicine, she also brought Mom and Sean each their own, "I brought one for you too because I would get jealous if I were in your shoes." When the doc came in I hadn't finished my questionnaire, so he went through the questions with me slowly, asking follow up questions that were often not on the papers. He wrote my answers down with notes next to them. When he finished the questions, he began the physical exam. Somewhere in this process I had made the mistake of telling my mom I was cold. So while I proclaimed that I was fine (and really I was, I'm always cold, it was probably warmer than my classroom), the doctor took out two paper blankets and covered me up and began his exam (#11 to check the lady lumps). It felt like the longest exam yet. I just wanted to shout, "seriously, its a lump, its right there." It was maddening at the time, but in retrospect I can see that he is an expert, he wants to know the whole picture personally. When he finished, he said that I should get dressed and then he would meet us in the conference room.
That felt like the walk of shame. And I don't mean that in a bad way necessarily, but I want some of you to know what kind of a feeling I am talking about more personally. The conference room was outside the exam room area, across the waiting room. While there were very few people in the waiting room (probably 2 at the most), it was as though they were look at me saying, "We know that walk, we know what you are doing. Welcome to the C-club. Good luck."
In the conference room Dr. Signori explained that my cancer, invasive (or infiltrating) ductal carcinoma is the most common type of breast cancer. That the MRI doesn't show anything new, or rather nothing that we weren't already aware of, and the lymph nodes appear good. There is no cancer in the left breast and it is not touching the muscle (there is separation). The biopsy report shows that my cancer is estrogen receptor positive, progesterone receptor positive, and HER2-positive which means that I have some very good options for medications. AND all of this makes me a good candidate for breast preservation (a lumpectomy instead of mastectomy). BUT there are no guarantees in this game and nothing is set in stone.
He outlined several options for treatment, and a rough timeline of what to expect. My team of doctors plus several other specialists meet on Fridays to discuss new cases and confer on treatment. Dr. Signori said that I would be a definite topic of discussion next Friday. For now, he wants me to have a bone scan, an MRI of the brain, and a CT scan to be certain that this isn't anywhere else. We decided that we would like to attempt to shrink the tumor (and see if it will respond to the types of medications it should) to make surgery easier, so I will have my chemo port put in within the week.
I have to say that I walked away from that appointment unsettled. I have been blaming it on a lack of connection with the doctor and a gut feeling that it wasn't right. But after a weekend to let it digest and to reflect I think I am in good hands. I am still going to seek a second opinion, but I am not going to abandon the forward motion that is currently underway. As my Aunt Pat told me tonight, for the medical world, I am moving at light speed and everything is going according to what she would expect. That was enough to make me able to get some rest tonight.
Some of the links I checked out this weekend:
http://www.cancer.org/Cancer/BreastCancer/DetailedGuide/breast-cancer-treating-by-stage
http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/diagnosis/her2.jsp
http://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/bone-scan
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
The BIG C and little me
And so begins a new chapter in my life.....
I will apologize now to those who I know I should call and tell personally, and to those that I probably should have let read this and told personally, things aren't as cheery as I may have appeared recently (nor are they as dark).
On February 11th (it was the Saturday before Valentine's Day--I had to look the date up), I discovered a lump in my right breast. I noticed that there was an indentation in my boob (it looked as if I had been wearing a too small bra--like a sock line after a long day on your feet--only I had been in bed for the night). I did a self exam, and it just didn't feel right. Sean and I were having a rough morning and I kept it to myself until I realized that I was snapping at things that were just dumb. I pushed him into our itty-bitty bathroom, flashed the girls and helped him feel what I found. He was ready to rush to the hospital that moment (*chuckles, he would be concerned about those).
Valentine's Day morning had us (oh, that is me, my hubby, and 3-almost-4 yr old son) in the Ob/Gyn's office for another opinion about the lump. Yet another agreement that it was definitely a lump; one that needed to be looked at more carefully. She wrote a script for a diagnostic mammogram (for those who, like me a month ago, have no idea what that means--they squish your breasts and take x-rays then send you for an ultrasound of your boobs).
March 2nd was Squish Day. After what felt like an eon of waiting for the day to arrive, it came on what was supposed to be one of the best days of the year. We were FINALLY signing on our new house. We did the final walk through on the house at 10am. Squish was scheduled for 1:30pm. Signing was at 3pm. All started ok, I LOVE THIS HOUSE!!!!!!! Arrived at Oakwood Breast Care Center on time.
**for those not in the know, when you get a mammogram you are taken to a locker room of sorts given a half-hospital gown to put on and asked to wait in a secondary waiting room with a bunch of other women. For the sake of my male friends, I will even describe this scene as a roomful of other women who are also without their own shirts. While not the scene they are all picturing, it was not scary even though I was terrified.
The kind woman who took my first mammogram was perfect. She told me exactly what was going to happen and made sure that there were no surprises. While not the most comfortable feeling in the world, it wasn't nearly as painful as I was expecting. (for the sake of those who are counting--I'm a math teacher, its what I do--this makes person #4 to do a boob check) She passed me off to the Ultrasound Technician, Debbie (#5). Neither of them were chatty. Neither of them gave any sign that this test was going well. More than once it was said that I can be glad that this isn't ten years ago.... Debbie took her time and looked very serious throughout my rub down. She was calm, and kind, but the vibe in the room was cold prickles not warm fuzzies. When she finished she went out and got the radiologist. They were gone for what felt like eons, but they came back into the ultrasound room together. He copped his own feel (#6) and then started talking. "it looks like it is about 3cm" "it seems to be moving" "you're young" "it needs to be biopsied and it will need to be removed regardless of the result" So I asked if was definitely cancerous, or what did he think. His response will be stuck in my head forever, "it is more than likely cancerous, but needs to be biopsied to be certain." Then I get a bit of a wah-wah-wah Charlie Brown's teacher effect of what was said next.... I was taken back to the locker room and got dressed and had to wait for another nurse to come get me to schedule biopsy.
It is now 2:45pm, I am supposed to be 25 miles away having the best day of 2012 so far, and I am in a room waiting to talk about how to find out whether or not I have cancer.... If you don't know my husband, well actually it may be more for those who do know him, he is 100% supportive and patient when it comes to our family's health. He tells me to take my time and be careful, he sounds more upset that it wasn't quick than upset because I am late. Nurse Nancy the Navigator (seriously, i can't make that stuff up) tells me about the biopsy procedure, sets the first available date, and with words of support and good luck sends me on my way to the closing.
In the rain, through a traffic jam, and getting lost I made it to the title office. Along the way Nurse Nancy calls and tells me that she convinced someone else to give up an earlier appointment and that she will email me the information since I was driving. I really like Nurse Nancy. My hubby has gone through all the papers and done his signing part. I arrive at 4pm, apologize profusely, and start signing my name on what feels like a million sheets of paper. (listening in my head to Mom Dolin and Niki yelling at me, but trusting that this part HAS to be ok.) by 4:30 we have the keys to our NEW HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, March 3 is MOVING DAY!!!! I LOVE MY NEW HOUSE!!!!!
And then there were boxes, and more boxes, and more boxes..... each distraction better than the next.
I won't bore you with the teaching challenges for that week, but trust me it was one of those weeks. BUt to lighten things up, I had my annual exam at the ob/gyn and since there was a student with my doc we can increase the tally to #7. :)
Thursday, March 8th, 7:30AM armed with all the good luck I was wished I went for my biopsy. It was a needle biopsy which I expected to be painful and combatted my fear by bringing my hubby along (only to discover that there is no secret passageway for a male to get through to the inner sanctum). So with my mom at home watching Jake, and Sean sitting in the waiting room I faced the needle alone. **For the record it is probably all the better that my mom wasn't there, she passed out when they were doing a routine poke to my face when I was younger. I can't even imagine what might have happened with this.**
I was lucky enough to have Debbie the ultrasound lady and a female radiologist (#8) doing the poke. While they numbed my boob they again reiterated that i was sooo lucky to be now and not ten years ago. The procedure was quick and I felt as though it was loud. Maybe that was from the vibration of the machine, but I can honestly say that I was starting to get scared. There was not much talk of it might be good news, when I expressed that to Sean and Mom later they both poo-poo'd me and I agreed I was really stressed and I wasn't listening carefully.
It takes 48 hours to get biopsy results. It was a long weekend for everyone.
On Monday, my Ob/Gyn called me, and when i didn't answer the second call, they called my husband who emailed Julie, who told me I HAD to call the office. I called at the start of 7th hour. I started the conversation with, "I am standing in front of my class right now." I agreed to call back at 3:05. At 3:07, I was being told to get a pencil and write down "malignant invasive ductal carcinoma at least intermediate grade." After assuring Kathryn that I was in the best place I could be to get this news. I called Sean. I don't even know if I told him what I wrote down, I know I said it's cancer and I cried. I'm pretty sure he did too. I pulled myself "together" and walked out of my room only to discover that there were 2 young women waiting for me. I asked them to come back.... OK truth be told, I thought about just helping them with their questions, but I couldn't do it. I walked to Julie's room and then to the office and then back to my room and waited for the troops to find me. I have the best coworkers and friends on the planet.
Tuesday, holy crap that is today, I had my previously scheduled appointment with the breast surgeon (#8). (I had been told that the lump needed to come out regardless so I took the first appointment they could make.) At 10:30 today, 12 hours ago, I started my battle with breast cancer. Sean and I listened to what the surgeon, Dr. Pawlik, had to say and we asked a lot of questions.
What's next? What do we do? ....... and all the others we thought of that aren't in my head now.
So, I am not going to bite off more than I can chew. We are going to take each step we are given and move as aggressively as we can.
I am young, this makes me rare but increasing in number. The lump may or may not be attached to the muscles, I will have a MRI and a PET-CT to gather more information. MRI is on Thursday. I need an oncologist, someone who will be aggressive and who will not let me put my head in the sand no matter how much I want to. I have an appointment to meet someone that fits that mold Friday, if the current trend in recommendations is any indicator I have confidence that he will be my guy. I even met with a plastic surgeon today (#9) to discuss options if I have to have a mastectomy. I will be tested to see what my genetics say about this cancer thing and how that will effect my treatment.
I will be OK. I am strong. I am brave. I am armed with questions and I have so many people to hold me up that I have no doubt that I will win this battle no matter how long or rough the road is.
I will apologize now to those who I know I should call and tell personally, and to those that I probably should have let read this and told personally, things aren't as cheery as I may have appeared recently (nor are they as dark).
On February 11th (it was the Saturday before Valentine's Day--I had to look the date up), I discovered a lump in my right breast. I noticed that there was an indentation in my boob (it looked as if I had been wearing a too small bra--like a sock line after a long day on your feet--only I had been in bed for the night). I did a self exam, and it just didn't feel right. Sean and I were having a rough morning and I kept it to myself until I realized that I was snapping at things that were just dumb. I pushed him into our itty-bitty bathroom, flashed the girls and helped him feel what I found. He was ready to rush to the hospital that moment (*chuckles, he would be concerned about those).
Valentine's Day morning had us (oh, that is me, my hubby, and 3-almost-4 yr old son) in the Ob/Gyn's office for another opinion about the lump. Yet another agreement that it was definitely a lump; one that needed to be looked at more carefully. She wrote a script for a diagnostic mammogram (for those who, like me a month ago, have no idea what that means--they squish your breasts and take x-rays then send you for an ultrasound of your boobs).
March 2nd was Squish Day. After what felt like an eon of waiting for the day to arrive, it came on what was supposed to be one of the best days of the year. We were FINALLY signing on our new house. We did the final walk through on the house at 10am. Squish was scheduled for 1:30pm. Signing was at 3pm. All started ok, I LOVE THIS HOUSE!!!!!!! Arrived at Oakwood Breast Care Center on time.
**for those not in the know, when you get a mammogram you are taken to a locker room of sorts given a half-hospital gown to put on and asked to wait in a secondary waiting room with a bunch of other women. For the sake of my male friends, I will even describe this scene as a roomful of other women who are also without their own shirts. While not the scene they are all picturing, it was not scary even though I was terrified.
The kind woman who took my first mammogram was perfect. She told me exactly what was going to happen and made sure that there were no surprises. While not the most comfortable feeling in the world, it wasn't nearly as painful as I was expecting. (for the sake of those who are counting--I'm a math teacher, its what I do--this makes person #4 to do a boob check) She passed me off to the Ultrasound Technician, Debbie (#5). Neither of them were chatty. Neither of them gave any sign that this test was going well. More than once it was said that I can be glad that this isn't ten years ago.... Debbie took her time and looked very serious throughout my rub down. She was calm, and kind, but the vibe in the room was cold prickles not warm fuzzies. When she finished she went out and got the radiologist. They were gone for what felt like eons, but they came back into the ultrasound room together. He copped his own feel (#6) and then started talking. "it looks like it is about 3cm" "it seems to be moving" "you're young" "it needs to be biopsied and it will need to be removed regardless of the result" So I asked if was definitely cancerous, or what did he think. His response will be stuck in my head forever, "it is more than likely cancerous, but needs to be biopsied to be certain." Then I get a bit of a wah-wah-wah Charlie Brown's teacher effect of what was said next.... I was taken back to the locker room and got dressed and had to wait for another nurse to come get me to schedule biopsy.
It is now 2:45pm, I am supposed to be 25 miles away having the best day of 2012 so far, and I am in a room waiting to talk about how to find out whether or not I have cancer.... If you don't know my husband, well actually it may be more for those who do know him, he is 100% supportive and patient when it comes to our family's health. He tells me to take my time and be careful, he sounds more upset that it wasn't quick than upset because I am late. Nurse Nancy the Navigator (seriously, i can't make that stuff up) tells me about the biopsy procedure, sets the first available date, and with words of support and good luck sends me on my way to the closing.
In the rain, through a traffic jam, and getting lost I made it to the title office. Along the way Nurse Nancy calls and tells me that she convinced someone else to give up an earlier appointment and that she will email me the information since I was driving. I really like Nurse Nancy. My hubby has gone through all the papers and done his signing part. I arrive at 4pm, apologize profusely, and start signing my name on what feels like a million sheets of paper. (listening in my head to Mom Dolin and Niki yelling at me, but trusting that this part HAS to be ok.) by 4:30 we have the keys to our NEW HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, March 3 is MOVING DAY!!!! I LOVE MY NEW HOUSE!!!!!
And then there were boxes, and more boxes, and more boxes..... each distraction better than the next.
I won't bore you with the teaching challenges for that week, but trust me it was one of those weeks. BUt to lighten things up, I had my annual exam at the ob/gyn and since there was a student with my doc we can increase the tally to #7. :)
Thursday, March 8th, 7:30AM armed with all the good luck I was wished I went for my biopsy. It was a needle biopsy which I expected to be painful and combatted my fear by bringing my hubby along (only to discover that there is no secret passageway for a male to get through to the inner sanctum). So with my mom at home watching Jake, and Sean sitting in the waiting room I faced the needle alone. **For the record it is probably all the better that my mom wasn't there, she passed out when they were doing a routine poke to my face when I was younger. I can't even imagine what might have happened with this.**
I was lucky enough to have Debbie the ultrasound lady and a female radiologist (#8) doing the poke. While they numbed my boob they again reiterated that i was sooo lucky to be now and not ten years ago. The procedure was quick and I felt as though it was loud. Maybe that was from the vibration of the machine, but I can honestly say that I was starting to get scared. There was not much talk of it might be good news, when I expressed that to Sean and Mom later they both poo-poo'd me and I agreed I was really stressed and I wasn't listening carefully.
It takes 48 hours to get biopsy results. It was a long weekend for everyone.
On Monday, my Ob/Gyn called me, and when i didn't answer the second call, they called my husband who emailed Julie, who told me I HAD to call the office. I called at the start of 7th hour. I started the conversation with, "I am standing in front of my class right now." I agreed to call back at 3:05. At 3:07, I was being told to get a pencil and write down "malignant invasive ductal carcinoma at least intermediate grade." After assuring Kathryn that I was in the best place I could be to get this news. I called Sean. I don't even know if I told him what I wrote down, I know I said it's cancer and I cried. I'm pretty sure he did too. I pulled myself "together" and walked out of my room only to discover that there were 2 young women waiting for me. I asked them to come back.... OK truth be told, I thought about just helping them with their questions, but I couldn't do it. I walked to Julie's room and then to the office and then back to my room and waited for the troops to find me. I have the best coworkers and friends on the planet.
Tuesday, holy crap that is today, I had my previously scheduled appointment with the breast surgeon (#8). (I had been told that the lump needed to come out regardless so I took the first appointment they could make.) At 10:30 today, 12 hours ago, I started my battle with breast cancer. Sean and I listened to what the surgeon, Dr. Pawlik, had to say and we asked a lot of questions.
What's next? What do we do? ....... and all the others we thought of that aren't in my head now.
So, I am not going to bite off more than I can chew. We are going to take each step we are given and move as aggressively as we can.
I am young, this makes me rare but increasing in number. The lump may or may not be attached to the muscles, I will have a MRI and a PET-CT to gather more information. MRI is on Thursday. I need an oncologist, someone who will be aggressive and who will not let me put my head in the sand no matter how much I want to. I have an appointment to meet someone that fits that mold Friday, if the current trend in recommendations is any indicator I have confidence that he will be my guy. I even met with a plastic surgeon today (#9) to discuss options if I have to have a mastectomy. I will be tested to see what my genetics say about this cancer thing and how that will effect my treatment.
I will be OK. I am strong. I am brave. I am armed with questions and I have so many people to hold me up that I have no doubt that I will win this battle no matter how long or rough the road is.
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