Another reason why I love my husband

My days are currently filled with high doses of pain meds, naps, and tv watching which means that I don't have much to update you with. The quick and easy: pathology report from the mastectomy says that while the cancer was invasive on the left side it does NOT require chemotherapy. The same report also says that there was a previously undetected new cancer on the right side. (I will have to post about that again once I have met with my oncologist and surgeon and understand what it means exactly.) For now, we can all give a giant whoo hoo for no chemo. If it didn't hurt so much, I'd suggest a happy dance, but...... that ain't gonna happen.

It has been a while since I shared one of the good chuckles Sean and I have had along this journey. (Trust me, we laugh A LOT---way more than we cry.) So today you get a glimpse into our little world of coping with other doctor's office.

Yesterday ,I went to a check-up with the plastic surgeon. (Oh, an update I forgot about--Dr. Lytle was able to remove 2 of my drains, only 4 more to go!) And since that office has become Sean's favorite place to make inappropriate jokes (the first visit involved him being the man behind the curtain with the Quagmire and that creepy old guy from Family Guy sound board). Gratefully the nurses have a fabulous senses of humor and we laugh hysterically at just about everything that happens there.

To truly understand this anecdote indulge me: Put your left hand over your chest (like your are going to use the wrong hand to say the Pledge of Allegiance) and wiggles your fingers. I know nothing happened when you did it, but when I did it went squish squish like a 1980s waterbed. Sounded and felt as creepy as you are imagining, but didn't hurt (that could be the two HUGE pills I took before we left the house, but who's counting).

Nicole's perspective: The doc turns away and gives directions to the nurse in what sounds like English but went by me so fast I didn't catch it all. My mind went immediately to Willy Wonka and like he was whistling to the Oompa Loompas and giving orders for sending me to the juicing machine. I kept waiting to hear him say, "but look quick...." and dancing to begin (see previous paragraph and two HUGE pills comment).

Sean's perspective (keep in mind he is not laying down on the exam table nor has he had the two HUGE pills): Doc turns away and goes over to the counter. He pulls out a syringe and needle. No, not the ordinary one that you have probably all seen at a regular doctor's appointment. BUT instead the one straight out of some freak-tastic Halloween movie. The barrel of the syringe is at least an inch and a half in diameter and the needle is at least 3 inches long. Sean and the doc start exchanging some banter about rusty needles and my looopy world hears "WAAAAhahahahahaha!" followed by a clap of thunder and flickering lights (remember those two HUGE pills--that didn't really happen but we were all laughing like it was). The nurse holds my hand and says, "you won't feel anything." and it was about then that I actually saw the harpoon he was sticking in my non-existent boob. And he really did fill that bad boy with the ick that went squish..... and now I don't go squish anymore.

Hope this made you at least giggle a little. If not, I'll give you one last try, I took my husband with me to the plastic surgeon's office when I was loopy....... Thank GOD it wasn't size picking day, that could have been a disaster.

I get by with a little help from my friends...

Tonight the kids and I went to Mass, and it was the first time in a long time that I was listening with all of my heart. When we were singing "Glory to God in the highest, and peace to people of goodwill..." I started to cry, you know those tears that you can't control and yet you fight anyway. The ones everyone pretends they don't see, but their eyes say they do. In this moment Elizabeth asked me why I was crying, and when I told her I would explain after Mass she reached up and wiped away my tears. Jake wrapped his arms around me, and somehow I didn't fall apart and crumple into a ball on the floor in the middle of the church.

Since we were sitting in the front row (yes, I let the kids pick our seats when it is just us 3 and they like to be able to see everything) I'm certain that Fr. Pat wasn't the only one who had front row seats to our moment. But for the first time along this journey I didn't care who was watching or what they thought. I wonder if they could tell that I didn't know how to explain to her that I am angry, a little lost, and yet I have faith in God. That at moments like this I can find all of my strength in their two small hearts and know that it will all be OK someday.

I feel this need to ask, "why again?" Like there is some answer or some lesson that I have to learn the hard way.  I've had conversations with many different friends and family about this idea that there is some higher purpose to my having to have breast cancer 3 times. I must have missed some important lesson the first two times, although that seems to reek of the movie Groundhog's Day.

A convincing argument in my head, and in my heart, is that I have to learn to ask for and accept help more often. I think it is the asking part in particular that is my challenge. So many people have offered to help, and I am going to let them, I just have to figure out what to ask for help doing. Which, as moms everywhere can understand, is a lot harder than just doing it all yourself.

SO to my many people of goodwill, I will accept your offers and find a place for as much help as I can.



Well this post was waaaaaaaaay more emotional than I intended..... I was really just planning to let you know that after some back and forth between the surgeon and the plastic surgeon we have set a date. On September 27th (yes that is a Saturday) I will have a double mastectomy with reconstruction. It is expected to be about a 12 hour surgery with a night or two hospital stay. I haven't done any online research about what to expect, but doctors everywhere seem to like to say that this is a very painful procedure. Meh, bring it on!!! This tough cookie will come out even stronger in the end.

Crap..... it's back...

There are so many ways to start this post, but I think that direct is best. 

Yep, you read correctly, third time's a charm for me on this breast cancer roller coaster. 

On the 13th, I went for my preventative MRI of the breasts. That evening I got a call from my surgeon that there were two suspicious areas showing up in the left breast. She arranged for a mammogram with ultrasound on the 15th. They were not able to see the same areas in the mammogram nor with the ultrasound. Due to my history (and certainly the knowledge of the doctors) they arranged for, although I think demanded is a better word, an MRI guided biopsy on Monday (I could write an entire post about how much I dislike this procedure). Tuesday, my surgeon called with the preliminary results--both areas are cancerous. 

I apologize for all those reading who are knowledgable on BC and have questions that I should know the answer to but simply don't right now. This diagnosis took me completely off guard. I was expecting an all clear. I was ready to put my teacher wardrobe to work, my PTA mom positive attitude in high gear, and my hockey mom schedule in motion. 

Today, I had strength. I went to my classroom. I said the right things to the right people, and meant it. I sincerely promised to take care of myself and to ask for anything that I might need. 

Tonight, I am weak. I am hiding in my house, grateful to be allowed to just be mad and sad alone. 

Tomorrow, I will stand tall. We will formulate a plan and with the help of so many people I love and cherish I will take on this challenge with determination and whatever else it takes to rid myself of this round of evil.

It's been a loooooong time since I've written

I'm not entirely sure why it is that I haven't written. I pen fantastic and interesting paragraphs in my head all the time. There just doesn't seem to be time to live in the both the electronic world and the real world. Right now it seems that the real world has all of my attention, and that it AWESOME.

So, why actually write now?

First, I have a need to share that everything with my health is going great right now. I have been allowed to extend my oncology appointments to every 3 months! My last mammogram came back all clear. The results to the more extensive genetics test came back and I do not have any of the currently known genetic markers. (Still not 100% sure how I feel about that last one, but since the medical community says that's a good thing I will leave it in the great news paragraph.)

Second, my breast cancer journey has allowed me to reach out and get to know other women on similar journeys. I feel honored that they have allowed me to be a part of one of the most challenging times in their lives. There are two women whose stories are deeply in my heart today and if you are a prayerful person, I ask that you think of them over the next few weeks. They are in two completely different parts of their journey and both are fierce fighters.

Finally, this is mother's day weekend and I am looking forward to some rest and relaxation.

Ha ha! Seriously, that was some serious wishful thinking... 2 baseball practices, 2 hockey games, and a breast cancer fundraiser on Saturday and 2 more hockey games on Sunday, some PTA work, and maybe a little yardwork--nope, no rest for the wicked around here.

As much as I would love for this to be truly a complaint, and for you to have this urge to offer up niceties, it isn't and you shouldn't. I have longed for these days to be a part of my life, and I don't wish them gone. Yes, I said it, as much as I want to be done going to hockey practices and games and balancing schedules, I have a mom life and I love it. I get to talk to moms (and dads) who share in the many facets that make up the Guppy Kids. The friendships and acquaintances that I have built these last few years are some that I hope will grow and last for years to come. AND I get excited just thinking about the new faces and people that I will get to know through this insane schedule that we like to keep.

To all of the hockey moms and not-so-crazy-after-all PTA moms out there, I love ya!

To my mom, I love you!

And the best for last:
To the man who made me a mom, I love you!!!!

The TPA is looking for a few good birds (that's the Turkey Protection Agency)

Cancer update= On Friday, I had radiation treatment #15 of 33. Still have to drag myself into the hospital, but a good friend gave me a song to help me through, One Foot First by Rosetta Pebble (find them online). I highly recommend listening carefully, the lyrics are very inspiring and they make me smile.

That's small potatoes right now though. I am in the midst of a new crisis. I knew I would struggle with this particular parenting issue. I just thought I had a few more years before I had to learn this lesson. The following is the assignment that was sent home for Miss Herself to work on this weekend:

Save the Turkey!

Dear Families,

We are asking all of our students to take the attached undressed turkey and give him a disguise so he is saved from being the main course at Thanksgiving dinner. You may take on a theme or just have fun dressing the turkey any way that you wish. In the past, some have been dressed like football players, dancers, etc... Cut out the turkey and glue him on the colored construction paper. Then use items around your house or yard to disguise him. Seeds, beans, leaves, fabric, or buttons are some possibilities. This can be a family event with moms and dads helping their (second) grader!

This is also a creative writing assignment. Students must then write 4 sentences about their turkey explaining the story behind his/her disguise. Use the attached checklist as a guide. Remember - have some fun and be creative with this!

I can't just do this for her???.... even if it is fun and the directions say I can help.
Why can't I do the Turkey assignment for my 2nd grader all by myself?
Does the teacher not know that I am a creative control freak?
Does she understand how hard it is for me not to take my daughter's story and run with it?
Or even worse, we are supposed to create a disguise... together...
OMG, I think the teacher is trying to kill me.

Yes, I know the directions say it can be a family event, but we all know that means that parents are allowed to guide but are supposed to take a support role, taking orders from the little dictator about what is and isn't allowed in the disguise. Letting them write and learn about being creative in the writing process. Offering ideas and patiently allowing them to be shot down by an attitude that rivals any teenage girl's best 'tude. There should have been a disclaimer that this was really an activity in perseverance and patience for all parents with a shred of creative desire.

So I made Miss Herself a deal, I would write a blog post about her assignment and post her turkey and story for all to read. I can take credit for the helmet and skates (I am supposed to finish them because she had to go to bed). Other than those two, it is all her work--ideas and writing 100% her own. I am going to include her "sloppy copy" because it is almost as entertaining as the real deal.

(and sitting here with her while we both wrote and created really was a lot of fun! I think we might have to do this more often.

Want to make Miss Herself's week? Create your own turkey with a disguise and story then send it to us! We will share what we collect with her class and here!!!
Twitter: @guppy_mom or via email: nicole c sturgeon at gmail dot com

This is the turkey that needs to be saved!

Looking forward to some Thanksgiving fun!

Back to the Grind

This was our first full week back in school and it was a doozy. I will just touch the highlights, and then get back to my glass of wine and let the days get brighter.

First, it was supposed to be a great week. On Tuesday I had a follow up appointment with my surgeon and she informed me that my surgery was awesome. Usually, they hope to get 2mm of clear margins (healthy tissue on the outside of the cancerous tissue). For this round, they were able to get 5-10mm around my tumor. That's more than 100% better than what they hope to get!!! Can't complain about being better than expected!!!!!!

Still have to do this round of radiation. Have to pick up the 500 pound phone and make the appointments...

Second, I really want to start writing about being a mom and not a mom with cancer/battling cancer/surviving cancer. BUT this week has shown me that I have a ways to go before that gets to happen fully. BUT I have to get my cancer-mom on for a moment--I was reminded by my friend, Daniele (check out her blog lifewithpenispeople.wordpress.com) that while I am blessed to have this pink sisterhood and a plethora of options for treatment, I am lucky. I can't imagine having to take my child to these appointments. I can't imagine having to sit by and watch my child fight from the inside out. I can't imagine trying to teach them to be strong, have faith, trust in people with more knowledge than I have, believe that things will work out, that God doesn't give you more than you can handle, or worse holding their tiny hand and kissing them goodbye for the last time.... So for Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month, I am going to hug my own kids a little tighter and dust off my church clothes and go to God's house to say thank you for the strength, courage, and guidance He has given. AND I'm going to put my money where my mouth is by donating to the Jacob Michael Davis Foundation, http://www.jacobmichaeldavis.org/help.htm, because the Davis Family inspires me.

Third, I am not going to let ignorance and insult influence my decisions as a teacher. Today I sat in a meeting where a parent claimed that because I appeared sick (had no hair) in the videos I recorded and have students watch that her daughter couldn't learn from me. It was "too close to home" because they had people who have lost their battle with the big C or are fighting a good fight... (notice that I didn't use quotations, but I think I am pretty close to what she said) My first reaction was that of a concerned teacher, OMG what can I do to fix that and make it better. I will re-record my videos so that I look better, I will find other resources for her to use/watch. But as I have gained time and emotional distance from the experience, I am angry. How dare she even try to use that as a ticket to get what she wants. To even begin to explain how hard of a leap that was for me to make at that point in my journey is impossible. However, the research says it is better for students to not only hear but see their teacher in this style of presentation so that is what I did and will continue to do. As a friend told me today, that was not an example of good parenting skills. I have learned from from this experience.

So now that I have written, and finished my glass of wine. I am going to enjoy watching the PINK OUT at the Tigers game and wonder when they are going to make it a GOLD OUT for all the kids who are battling a pediatric cancer. And hug my kids a few more times.

The Glad Game Sucks

If you have never met my mother, you are missing out on one of the most awesome individuals you can imagine. If you have met her, then you have been infuriated by her endless creativity and positiveness at one point or another. I can only imagine how many of you are laughing hysterically because you know how many times you have wanted to say, "________ (she wears a lot of hats, so put your title for her here) get a grip," only to decide that she was the one who had one and you were in need of perspective or growth. Growing up with this woman, who seems to glide miraculously through things that tear other people to shreds, has made me the person I am today. 

BUT (there is always a BUT) Mom, you forgot to remind me that Pollyanna had to endure a whole lot of crap before she learned that the Glad Game was worth it. Any game that starts with getting crutches instead of a doll, includes losing your dad, being moved into a hostile environment, and requires you to fall out of a tree (or get hit by a car, depending on if you are reading or watching), break your legs, and learn to walk again in order for everything to work out...why the hell is this your favorite?!?!?! :)

Oh, it is because when those test results come back and the doctor says it's cancer again. You can truly see the positive in his words. It isn't a recurrence, it is a new cancer (this one I am still working for the silver lining so don't ask me). It is Stage 0, very early=very good. It is "in situ", inside the ducts, not in the regular breast tissue=good. I think that non-invasive is tied to in situ, but I like non-invasive enough that it gets its own sentence. All of those mean that I will have another lumpectomy and more radiation, but no systemic treatment=no chemo.

It took a few days to get my mind to accept this new turn and to understand that my path just wasn't complete yet. But at least I didn't need to whole town to come calling to make me play the Glad Game. 

Thanks Mom!!! (Freaking Pollyanna wins again.....)