Step 4: Radiation (and go back to work)

Burned boobies ahead....

I have been told A LOT that radiation is the easiest of of all the cancer crap that I have to face. But that sure didn't stop me from being completely freaked out by not just the process, but the aftermath too. Its like this dirty little secret of cancer survivors and doctors alike. Its easy, and then they use the phrases "dry peel" and "wet peel". Who thinks either of these things sound as though they will be easy?!?!?! And if you are going to pretend that "wet peel" doesn't sound scary, now imagine that whatever the hell that is is going to happen to your boob and armpit......

While I am not quite sure I agree with it, I am going to trust in my doctors, friends, and family that this is a necessary step in staying CANCER FREE. For the record, getting radiation is freaky from start to finish. The whole process starts with a simulation and getting marked (medical term for getting new dot tattoos). I have never wanted any sort of tattoo anywhere near the girls, but a dot smack dap in the middle of my chest was seriously the most painful poke I have had yet.

Every day (5 days a week) I have to go to the hospital. I take the elevator to the basement of the cancer building and scan my ID card to tell them I am there. The techs go get my body holder while I go to the locker room and put on my hospital gown. By the time you get this far in the game of being sick you don't even have to ask what to do anymore, waist up nudie butt. Then I have a seat in the gowned waiting room. (There are separate locker rooms for men and women, but once gowned you all sit uncomfortably in the same waiting area. Most of the time it is me in my gown feeling naked and like I am surrounded by old men who apparently don't have to put on gowns to be in the gowned waiting area.... there has to be some sort of injustice in this. It's gowned waiting, shouldn't everyone have to be in a stinky gown???? And today mine was clean and stinky--the kind of stink that makes you sniff your armpits to be sure it isn't you. I would have grabbed another, but that would have meant opening the door to the gowned waiting room full of old men with no shirt on at all.....)

Once they feel you have suffered just enough humiliation in gowned waiting the techs come get you and lead you back to the treatment room. I have a really hard time accepting the word treatment when I walk through the 12 foot wide 2 foot thick "door" with a handle that looks like a bank vault and a radioactive hazard sign on it. That is where my heart starts to race a little. Gratefully, all of the people in this department move really fast. Can't say that I blame them, if the door to my classroom looked like that I would spend as little time in there as I possibly could. They put you on a tiny table, put a rubberband around your feet, and uncover all of your dot tattoos and of course one boob. Using laser beams that shoot out from the wall they line you all up so that the poison treatment always goes to the same spot. They flick the lights off and leave the room (it is at this point that the telephone always seems to ring and I wonder who would call this room and what would be so important that the techs would stand still long enough to answer it). Then the machine turns on and start making its cross between a click and a beep and a hum sound while it slowly rotates around the table. After the longest 5 minutes ever they come back in and send me on my way. It is very surreal....

I have 7 out of the 33 treatments done, so by the end of October I will have another item checked off the cancer treatment list!!

And like most days, I'm tired out from radiation and being a mom so I will have to save the back to work stories for another post!

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!

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.

First Week is in the Books

I survived, but it only seems right to include that I barely survived. I am grateful that I have a kind and patient husband (oooh and add understanding, definitely add understanding) who can roll with the punches, friends who are supportive, and administrators who put their money where their mouth is when they say family first. This week was the week that fought back.

So let's decode that first paragraph!
Sean gets the Superparent award for the week.

• Tuesday, he voluntarily took the kids Back-to-School clothes shopping. Where he discovered why I depend on my mother to do a lot of the clothes shopping for the kids. It isn't financial dependence, it's mildly therapeutic for her and it keeps me from having a mental breakdown. Moms simply know how hard it is to contain the wild (although seemingly less wild than other children) beasts and actually look at what is going into the cart. 
• Wednesday, he got to take E to her first day of kindergarten. I have yet to see the pictures, but I'm sure they were all adorable. He reports that she had a few tears going in, but was all smiles coming out. AND there have been no "I don't want to go to school," tears so we will consider it a successful start to the school years. 
• Thursday, my FIL gave us the biggest scare when he took an unexpected trip. Sean managed to call the police/EMS, think he was going find his dad dead, listen to the police call all the area hospitals for a John Doe that matched Dad's description, shed a few tears, AND keep a very intuitive 5 year old from knowing anything was wrong. Did I mention that all of those things happened before 8:00am and Sean still got her to school on time? Superdad.
• AND I have come home late every night, worked on the couch until all hours, and barely managed to hear the answer to, "How was your day?"
• I LOVE YOU!!!!

You can never praise your friends too often. Julie and Kelly this one's for you! I have been thinking of you.

As for my administrators, HOLY CRAP do I work with some great people! Although I am fairly certain that my insanity is forever going to be the new guy's impression of me. (See Thursday bullet point above and adjust for "I must get home, find this old man, and I am not ready for a sub on day 2 of the school year.") They simply said, "family first," and found someone to help me out.

I survived the first week, barely.