Just a Picture

I don't really have much to say about cancer, which is a really good thing. I tell some people, and don't tell others. I never hide it. If someone asks about something that leads me into it, I just say it. It's not exactly a secret. It's just weird.

I'm finally getting physical therapy. I worry about lymphoedema, because frankly, it's ugly and I like to wear short sleeves. And it's painful, but mostly, it's ugly. I don't want to wear that sleeve. Also, it seems I ought to do something about my absolute lack of any sort of abdominal muscles. My luck: I had just gotten them, and then I had to get them cut out of me. So I'm learning to strengthen my abs without getting a hernia. Hopefully.

And that's about it. The best news is that I got a round brush to work with my hair! I knew that would be the turning point. Once I could use a round brush I could actually attempt to have a style, and my hair looks so much better. I figured this out on Wednesday, when I took this picture. Enjoy!

I should have stuff to write about after next week, just related to life and fun stuff, but I will not divulge a word of it this week. So don't ask! GO LENAPE MARCHING BAND, NJ State Champs! Good luck tomorrow night in Allentown! (I love being a band mom.)

Maybe Next Time I'll Win the Lottery

As far as anyone can tell, I do not have cancer. I had some abnormal cells in the mole, oddly, so I'll head to a dermatologist in December, but otherwise I'm as good as new, I guess.

I realize I wasn't supposed to worry about those biopsies, but I was terrified about the lumpy thing on my breast that turned out to be scar tissue. Czerniecki always freaks me out, and when he came in to give the results he looked like a deer caught in headlights. Nancy, the NP, saw my eyes bug out and quickly announced she had good news. I later mentioned to her that I had been looking at Czerniecki's expression, and her response was, "How could you tell anything by that? Do his expressions change?" Well. No, not really. But Nancy wasn't the one on the verge of panic to start. They left the room so I could change, and I needed to do something dramatic. I knelt on the floor and raised my arms to the ceiling and thanked G-d, and then of course Czerniecki walked back in and I was completely embarrassed.

After I left the office, something remarkable happened. I had a good day. No, a great day! I felt so good, so light. Nice little things kept happening that whole day, I even made most of the traffic lights. I planned some interesting plans, visited Barb, made Allison happy, bought lottery tickets ... it was the nicest day I'd had since the Phillies parade last year. It was good, and it's lasting! My whole attitude feels different. For example, now I'm glad I'm subbing for the time being. I still work everyday that I don't have a doctor's appointment, but when each day is over I feel good, go home, rest and there's no residual stress from the day. I love meeting all of the different children and getting to know them a bit. I love asking them certain questions and hearing their interesting opinions. This lack of stress has to be good for me. Everyone insisted things happen for a reason, and it seems this is where I belong for right now.

Oh, appointments. I also had my follow-up with Dr. Komarnicky last week. It lasted 5 minutes, because all is well. All is well.

Continuing

Okay, I'm here. See? I actually went for a trim a few hours after I took this picture. It's now neater around my ears and in the back.

Medically, it seems that lately I just hop from one thing to another. I've been to four doctors this month, and by the end of September I'll have had two biopsies. I can't seem to get back to normal, and when I ask a professional, I hear, "That's normal." Nobody expects to find cancer with these biopsies, but because it's me, they have to check. And would you believe I managed to get diagnosed with a hypoactive thyroid, just as a fluke. This explains the previously inexplicable weight gain, but now I'm up to five pills a day. It's like I'm in my 60s, or at least like the many people I know in their 60s. Who are vibrant, active people, don't get me wrong, but they take a lot of pills.

My state of mind is like a roller coaster. Czerniecki always manages to freak me out, and he didn't disappoint when I saw him last week. I glanced over his shoulder at the computer, where it said I'm Stage III. I said I thought I was IIb, and he said no, the mass was too big to be classified that way, I'm IIIa. This is the difference between early detection and advanced stage. That's an adjustment for me. I think I'm getting there, though. I'll just let you know right now, it doesn't help if you point out that nothing has actually changed, I've actually been Stage III all along and my prognosis is still good. My mind simply doesn't work that way. Which is why I hid in my car at football practice last week and cried my eyes out, thinking I was alone until a mom whose children I've taught knocked on my window because she was worried about me. Humiliating.

In other news, I subbed yesterday, and I turned down an assignment today because I promised the rabbi I'd help him with some things. Sorry I'm late, Rabbi! I'll get there in about 20 minutes! The kids are off to a pretty good start with school. Allison is particularly busy. Marching band is so intense! Ken is traveling a bit, which means I run around like a crazy woman most of the time.

L'Shana Tova to those of you who know what that means. Have a healthy, sweet year. I'm hoping 5770 will be MUCH better than 5769, but considering the first week, I'm now pinning my hopes on the secular calendar.

Me Again!

August 5, I guess that was my last full day on the other side of the window, looking out at the healthy world. The final treatment was such a relief, followed by a fantastic lunch at my favorite restaurant (Buddakan!). The folks at Hahnemann were so wonderful, I posed for pictures with them. Here we are:

The top one is in the radiation room, with the techs. Boy, I wish I'd ever remembered their names. I think one is Kelly. The bottom picture is Dr. Komarnicky, me, and my mom. Don't ask why she's wearing a raincoat. I haven't taken a picture of my hair in a couple weeks, but it doesn't look much different. I'm guessing it's about 3/4 of an inch "long." It's getting thicker everyday, and hopefully I'll feel comfortable dyeing it soon.

Anyway, no depression issues as I walked back out into the world, as befalls so many. In some ways, it already feels like it all happened a long time ago. Sometimes I think it wasn't so bad, and other times it seems like it must've happened to someone else. I have my souvenirs, of course. Battle scars, whatever. And my paranoia about every little thing, which is one reason I have three doctors appointments in the next two weeks. I have two spots on my body I want looked at, and can you believe it's been almost 4 months since my last chemo? It's time to follow up with Dr. Fox. Then I have to head back to my primary, because apparently my thyroid is elevated. Probably meds.

I'm still fighting mild sleepiness. I was more tired on radiation than I am now, but I don't feel perfect. Jason and I are now running together, getting ready for our big 8K run in November (coincides with the Philly marathon, but we'll be very proud of our five miles!).

Tamoxifen = nothing. I guess I have a drop of achiness? Not sure. No hot flashes! Is that good? Or does that mean it's not working? I don't miss hot flashes, at any rate. Effexor instead of Zoloft has turned out to be a change for the better. Although I do have a bit of anxiety creeping into my days, and for the past few days I've been positively jumping out of my skin: I had a really good interview for a sixth grade teaching job on Monday, and now I'm waiting ... waiting ... waiting. This is kind of right where I started, right? Waiting stinks. This time I could get very good news. With cancer, there's really no such thing.

Anyway, here's the thing, the big thing: I'm pretty much completely me again. Not like me, but as a cancer patient. It doesn't feel like that. It's just me, going through yet another season hunting for the elusive tenure track teaching job, focusing on money problems, relationship issues, my kids, trying to get/keep fit. My life, only it turns out to be so much better than I would've thought last year. I guess it's not about stopping to smell the roses, but maybe stopping to notice that the laundry you do all day smells good when it's finished.

Where Was I?

Tomorrow is my last day of radiation. My last day of cancer treatment, hopefully ever. From now on it's just follow-ups, except for that last little breast surgery. My last day of treatment. After finishing the chemo and not being happy about it, I was afraid I'd feel odd about leaving radiation, too. But ... NO! I'm ready to go off on my own and take care of myself. I went to my new primary doctor today for a checkup, and I seem to be completely healthy. I'd always thought of myself as completely healthy, even when I had a sinus infection or something like that. I'd think of myself as a healthy person with a sinus infection. I'm not going to let a stupid little thing like cancer rob me of that feeling forever.

So what's next: Well, I have to train for that 8K race Jill is making me do in November. I have to figure out what to do with this blog. I have to get ready for Jason's bar mitzvah, and Lori and Dave's WEDDING! I still have to get a job. I have to get my emotions in check and keep my weight down while taking Tamoxifen. Most of all, I have to focus on my kids, all starting new educational journeys. Allison goes off to high school in a month, Jason to a new school, and Jonah to first grade. I don't know where I want to be when it comes to cancer.

I sort of want to forget this whole past year happened (last night was a year since my baseline mammogram showed a problem). All along I thought I'd want to embrace the whole survivor mentality, become involved and vigilant, etc. Now I realize I was just so immersed in breast cancer I couldn't envision a future that didn't involve it. And in some cases it's true. I'm physically scarred, and probably emotionally as well. I don't know if I want to remain involved in breast cancer other than doing a walk here and there. However, if you know someone who is diagnosed and is scared, this blog will be available to read, whether I continue to write in it or not. And you can give out my phone number or email address to anyone who needs guidance from a survivor.

On Monday I went out without anything covering my head but my baby soft, very short hair. What a freaking relief. So here is my picture, taken this morning (not yesterday), by Jason! A nice change to not have to do it myself. I didn't post last week's picture, because the week got away from me with the STEP shows and visits and other stuff. There's certainly a big difference in two weeks.

Wine, or is it Whine

There was plenty of both for me last week. I decided I'd better deal with my insurance copays, and it didn't go well. It's not like I owe $40K or something that horrible, but even the $3500 we do owe is a big stretch for us right now. We're refinancing the house, and we'll fold that into the new mortgage. I just want it to be gone. Even more, I want a job for fall. I hate this instability, and I have it on all sides. I look at children sometimes, and wonder if I could end up being their teacher. There are no jobs. Hopefully ads will pop up in August, but right now I'm just spinning my wheels and feeling incredibly restless. Exhausted, but restless.

On the other hand, I'm starting to look like me again. I took the picture of myself on Tuesday, as per usual, but even since then I've noticed I've really grown some eyebrows. Just today I woke up, and burst into tears when I saw I finally have some brows. It's still odd when that rush of emotion hits me like a brick. I don't know I feel victimized by something, but when it becomes part of the past, then I realize I endured and survived, and then I cry for the poor victim I didn't even realize I was. I've just stopped counting weeks since my last chemo treatment, I think it's been 11 or 12 weeks now. But I still marvel at the sensations of taste, and the radiation sleepiness I feel in the afternoons in no way rivals the chemo stupor.

On Monday I saw Dr. Wu, who is impressed with my radiated skin. I don't even have any redness! It really is something. The skin is just a bit tender to touch, and that's the only way I even know anything is even happening. I was hoping to get an appointment for nipple surgery, but she said I must wait six months after finishing radiation. So I made an appointment for January 25, which is one year and four days after my surgery. I tried to get in on the anniversary, but no such luck.

Shout outs to all my friends and family. I love you.

Reading

I've read four or five novels in the past week, which is a lot of reading even for the most passionate reader within me. Between novels I picked up Susan Love's Breast Book, and ended up in a chapter about statistical chances of recurrence. Shouldn't have done that. I don't really understand all of the information and now I'm worried my prognosis isn't as good as I think. I guess I'm just destined to freak out every now and then. So I'm trying to get it back together, continue to live and enjoy it. But I'm busy, and tired, and broke, which puts a damper on enjoyment at any time, anyway. And that's the end of my complaint.

Things at home hadn't been going well for awhile, but it all seems to be improving. Maybe we just needed summer to de-stress. Even with everyone going to camp or work and me going to the hospital everyday, it's an easier schedule than school. Even with Jonah going to football twice a week and Allison going to band practice and trombone lessons, and volunteering at the library. And now we have something amazing coming up: we're going back to Ridin-Hy Ranch with our friends/cousins! Thanks so much to Ken's parents for making it possible. We REALLY need a vacation, and their generosity is making a huge difference in our family's life. The kids will also go to the Poconos with Charlie and Libby, so lots of mountain air and relaxation next month.

Oh yeah, radiation. It's still going okay. Tomorrow is the halfway mark, and so far I don't notice any difference. I lie on an uncomfortable table with one arm raised over my head for 8 minutes at the most, with green beams stretched across the walls and ceiling, and then I'm done. I don't have any pain (anymore) or redness at the sight, and I think I'm mostly tired because I need to catch up on sleep after catching the midnight showing of Harry Potter. This is definitely the easiest phase of cancer treatment. It's mostly waiting around, which is partly how I'm reading so much.

Anyway, I started using shampoo instead of soap today! I just went out and bought a trial size bottle of baby shampoo, and with the tiny drop I need to use each day it could last for weeks. Here I am! Any difference since last week? It feels like it, but I don't know if you can see it.