Dr. Talbert, breast surgeon extraordinaire, called me yesterday afternoon with the pathology report. At the time, I was enjoying a deluxe pedicure with my mom and my niece, Dani. The report - no cancer in the lymph nodes! :) The cancer she removed measured 1 1/4 cm - qualifying it as Stage One. I will still have both radiation and 6 months of chemo therapy. But Dr. Talbert believes I'm a good candidate for the short course of radiation - that means 5 days rather than 3 weeks. Presently, I'm waiting to hear from Dr. Toma, oncologist, or at least someone in her office, to set up my first appointment with her. I still don't know which will come first, radiation or chemo. I'm back to that waiting period before beginning the next leg of this strange journey.
I will still endure fatigue and hair loss, but I'm kinda looking forward to fun wigs, hats, and scarves. :)
I recently made a new Vision Board - and in the lower right hand corner, included an image of healthy breast cells. How do I know what they look like? I googled images for "healthy breast cells." And this was the prettiest one.
So... visualization is a nice strategy to use in prayers and pursuing life goals, I believe. Around the middle of the board are three figures climbing a ladder. They represent me and you. Seriously. Helping each other as we face challenges and overcome hard times on our way to... ? Who knows. I just know that I am blessed to have lots of help getting there. I hope to be that kind of help for you and others when the need arises.
In the meantime, thank you for good thoughts, positive energy, light, and prayers. God is good.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Call Me, "Madonna"
I know. Strange title for an update on my little bit of
breast cancer. If you keep reading, I promise to include a pictures.
And a special thanks to my friend, Karen (aka Martha Stewart). She asked if she could bring me a meal the night I came home from surgery. I didn’t really need a meal, we don’t often do home-cooking as much as grab something from Panera or Subway, but I know what a great cook she is… and even though I felt a little guilty for my reply, I texted back “YES!” I made the right decision. She arrived, precisely at 5:00pm (and by precisely, I mean that it awes me how people like Karen are always on time, as opposed to people like me who are generally 10 to 15 minutes late, sometimes later). In each arm she carried a basket, like in a fairy tale, filled to the brim with warm aromas of gourmet lasagna, cheddar biscuits, salad with candied walnuts, raspberry vinaigrette, and a freshly baked apple crisp pie. Since I hadn’t eaten all day long…. it was like I’d woken up in heaven! Seriously, it was almost worth the illness just to have a home-cooked meal, especially prepared by my friend, Karen.
First, I’d like to express deep thanks and gratitude for
prayers, phone calls, words of encouragement in texts and Facebook messages,
and F2F (face-to-face) visits. What a blessing this little experience has been,
kind of like Christmas. J There were even flowers! I haven’t seen
that many fresh flowers since Ray was courting me.
And a special thanks to my friend, Karen (aka Martha Stewart). She asked if she could bring me a meal the night I came home from surgery. I didn’t really need a meal, we don’t often do home-cooking as much as grab something from Panera or Subway, but I know what a great cook she is… and even though I felt a little guilty for my reply, I texted back “YES!” I made the right decision. She arrived, precisely at 5:00pm (and by precisely, I mean that it awes me how people like Karen are always on time, as opposed to people like me who are generally 10 to 15 minutes late, sometimes later). In each arm she carried a basket, like in a fairy tale, filled to the brim with warm aromas of gourmet lasagna, cheddar biscuits, salad with candied walnuts, raspberry vinaigrette, and a freshly baked apple crisp pie. Since I hadn’t eaten all day long…. it was like I’d woken up in heaven! Seriously, it was almost worth the illness just to have a home-cooked meal, especially prepared by my friend, Karen.
And deep gratitude for the anointings. My sweet husband is
friends with some very faithful and prayerful folks. His friend, Mike, is a
Methodist minister. Soon after my biopsy, he drove all the way from Lake
Eufaula to pray over me and anoint me with healing oil. Ray’s best friend Dave,
who was one of the best men at our wedding, and his beautiful wife, Jimmie, who
works with Ray – are both charismatic prayer warriors. They drove up from
Sterling and brought their own healing oil and prayed over me. And my own
church family… at Wednesday night mass, laid hands on me too. That afternoon,
it took Father Jack and I about 5 minutes to talk through what would happen at
6:15 mass; then another 65 minutes to debate our opposite positions on
politics. The only thing we agreed
on was to take a break from debating. J But that evening, after communion,
Father Jack called me and Ray and Jacob up to the altar. Then he called on all
the cancer survivors at mass to join us and lay hands upon me as Father Jack
anointed me with the healing oil of our church. I felt such love and such peace
– and feel it again each time someone reaches out w/ words or a touch or a
gesture of concern. Thank
you. J I hope I can return the great compassion and love – or at
least pay it forward for someone else in need.
One more shout-out of thanks - for my daughter, Shelby. She
gave up her Saturday to care for me. What a great cook I raised. Jimmie and
Dave had brought us fresh squash from their garden, along with a huge zucchini.
Shelby made me zucchini bread and stir-fry and tidied up my kitchen. We spent
the afternoon in meaningful conversation.
So… about the name, “Madonna.”
Bright and early Friday morning, before the surgery, I
arrived at Breast Imaging in Edmond. They were to insert a wire that would lead
directly to the cancerous tissue. That involved a sonogram and a needle with a
wire inside of the needle. Then, Pam, the imaging technician, explained to me,
that about 3 ½ inches of the needle would remain sticking out of my breast –
maybe that’s the plastic syringe part – I’m not sure – I chose not to look too
closely. It wasn’t all that painful. Just a sting.
The disturbing part of the whole ordeal was the way I left
the clinic. To protect the needle, and, I suppose, me, Pam taped a Styrofoam
cup over the needle and to my right breast. Which is fine… but the loose button
up shirt I bought the day before was no way going to fit over that. Seriously. She
said not to worry, I could wear the blue poncho. For those of you who have
never had a mammogram, the blue poncho is a 3 x 3 foot sheet with a hole in the
middle for your head to fit through. When they need to take pictures of your
breasts, they toss back the corners over your shoulders like a super hero cape.
For me, that morning, it was decided to leave all the corners in place and to wear
my shirt as if it were a vest. Omigosh.
I didn’t mind walking out into the waiting area of Breast
Imaging, where only a handful of women were waiting their turns for mammograms
and such. I was actually laughing at the silliness of the situation. And it
wasn’t much of a bother in the car, or at Mercy Hospital parking lot, where Ray
took the picture of me. What was just a little uncomfortable, was walking into
Day Surgery – which is, evidently, always a packed house on a Friday. I don’t think
there was a single empty chair in the waiting room when we walked in – but I’m
not sure, because I was busy trying not to notice all the people trying not to
stare at my right side.
When I sat down at registration, the nice lady said, “Name,
please.” I replied, “Madonna.” She looked up at me, then at my right side, and
said, “Mm… I don’t think so. Madonna’s were pointy and she had two of them.”
And we all laughed. In fact, I kept laughing until they put me under
anesthesia. I might have laughed afterwards, but the nausea got in the way.
Other than that, it was a simple procedure.
Dr. Talbert spoke
with Ray and my parents – telling them that the lymph nodes looked good – but
we’ll know for sure when she gets the pathology report. She will call me by
Wednesday, June 27th, to let me know if the cancer is spread to the
lymph nodes or contained. She will also set me up with an appointment with my
oncologist, Dr. Toma.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
More Good News
Here is what I know:
Cancer is less than 2 centimeters and they are thinking
Stage One.
I will be having a lumpectomy, where they remove the cancer
and some of the healthy tissue around it. They will also remove some of the
sentinel lymph nodes. If they radiate them before the surgery, they do not have
to remove as many.
Surgery is scheduled for 9:50 am, Friday, June 22nd
at Mercy Hospital. This will be in the Day Surgery, so it’s out-patient. I’ll
be home that afternoon and able to return to some activity in two to three
days.
Afterwards, I will have to have both radiation and
chemotherapy, but only one at a time.
The chemo treatments will last 6 months. Side effects = hair
loss and fatigue.
The chemo oncologist I will likely see will be Dr. Aleda
Toma.
I will know more when Dr. Talbert gets the pathology report.
No reconstruction surgery.
Here’s what I do NOT
know:
What kind of radiation or in what order (chemo or radiation
first) – we will have to wait for the pathology report (2-3 days after surgery)
to find out.
I don’t know the name of the radiation oncologist.
I don’t know when the treatments will begin – soon I think.
Here’s what I’m
looking forward to:
Scarves and hats! I’ve always wanted to wear them, but …
didn’t think I was cool enough. I think a little cancer makes me cool enough.
Here’s what I’m
thankful for:
You and your prayers, mantras, and postive thoughts. J Life is good!
Monday, June 18, 2012
Somewhere Between Denial and Dread
It is the night before I meet with Dr. Beverly Talbert,
surgeon.
Earlier today, G, my therapist, asked me about fear. I told
her I was somewhere between denial and dread… and maybe I feel a little fear,
but it mostly dances on the edge of my denial and unknowing.
I’m sure it’s there. I see it in the eyes of my friends and
concerned folks like my dentist. I saw it in G’s eyes and in the eyes of one of
my dear friends who is a breast cancer survivor. I saw it in my Mama’s eyes
when she told me she knew I’d be okay, but she dreaded the path that would get
me there. All these people know something I do not – they’ve either experienced
for themselves or they have had close friends who have been diagnosed with
cancer. And they all look at me with the same deep concern in there eyes. A
couple of them even teared up.
Sigh.
Soon enough I’ll be in that learning curve, taking in the
moments that my family and friends are dreading. I’m not there yet. I’ll let
you know when I am.
In the meantime, there is good news to celebrate! J The abnormal gene that runs in the
Grabow branch of my family tree – BRCA2 – does not flow in my blood stream.
Yep. A geneticist sent my blood to test for that particular abnormality the
same day I had the MRI. She called me this afternoon and admitted she was
surprised by the results. Me? I’m rejoicing. That means I’m not going to follow
up this surgery and treatment with a hysterectomy.
This also means my daughters will not be need to be tested
for an increased risk of ovarian and breast cancer. It means my son will not
have to be tested for an increased risk of prostate cancer.
There’re lots of
things I want to pass on to my children. Cancer is not one of them.
So tonight, I am grateful. I'm grateful for no BRCA2. I'm grateful for friends and family who allow themselves to feel the fear I cannot. I'm grateful for the abundance of prayers and prayer lists I've been added to. I'm grateful for those who have prayed over me, for get-well cards and for the prayer bowl from the cancer support group welcoming me into their membership. I'm grateful for 50 cancer-free years. I'm grateful for pickle ladies who wanted to have coffee and pray over me and for Zena's tears. I'm grateful for a principal who is also a prayer warrier. I'm grateful that God has sent me the sweetest husband in the whole wide world.
I'm grateful.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Rose Abandoned?
I began this poem a couple of weeks ago - on a Writing Marathon. I think it's about aging and that whole life process I find myself in the middle of.
Rose Abandoned?
Rose Abandoned?
Floating
under a stone bridge
green
water shimmering
nourishing
what’s left
of your long stem and
once pink petals
In
that movement
from budding green,
then
bursting forth with
color and life
To
opening so wide
accepting
all
even the edges of petals
turning from supple
to dry
from
pink to pale brown
And
you just lying there
suspended in time
unaware that all life
leads
to death
Ripples
from the wake
of human tidings
move you suddenly along
like this must be the
natural way of things
While
a long stemmed rose
lies dying, fading,
Satisfied.
Monday, June 11, 2012
So, I have this little cancer thing...
Before I even knew about the little cancer thing, I went to my annual visit to my ob/gyn and had my annual mammogram. Pretty routine by now. Except that after you turn 50, they add a little more to your routine - not two appoints, but around 5. Bone density, colonoscopy, and if you have allergies, well there are other options. Mom says that once you turn 50, it' all maintenance from there on. Egads.
I've been wanting to blog for a long time now... to move myself into a habit of daily writing. I'm thinking I have important ideas about teaching and parenting and being a friend - ideas that others might want to read about. But I also need a habit in order to finish that darn thesis of mine. Plus, I love the idea of reaching out and sharing my voice with your voices. Connecting.
So... now, I have another reason - cancer. I'm not that afraid, but I am a little. But if I blog, I can talk less and inform more. I'm blessed with lots of folks who are my family and friends. And that means I have to tell the same story over and over and over. That's a little exhausting. Not that you can't ever ask me, please do. It's just that I might reply, "Updated info has been posted on my my blog." LOL! What a way to build up my reader-ship. :)
Here is what I know today:
Wednesday, June 6, 2012 - second imaging revealed a spot and need for ultra sound. Dr. Mitchell, radiologist recommended a biopsy - and prepared me - at the time it looked like cancer.
Thursday, June 7, 2012 - Dr. Mitchell called and said pathology reported cancer, grade 2 (not stage - that pathology info is to come).
Friday, June 8, 2012 - MRI revealed good news: no other spots or cancer in my breasts. I was also tested for BRCA2, an abnormal gene that runs in the Grabow side of my family. That info will inform my surgeon, Dr. Beverly Talbert, and me about next steps.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012 - I will meet Dr. Beverly Talbert and learn more.
That's all I know today, that and I have a lot of good folks praying for me. I also know, that I'm going to be okay. :) I've survived other challenges and I know lots of survivors who already inspire me view challenges as opportunities for spiritual growth.
Don't even think this is going to make me less political. Like I told Father Jack, "A girls gotta have goals."
Life is Good!
P.S. Look for my next post: "Rose Discarded." It's a draft of a poem I began on a Writing Marathon. Ironic that I wrote it then and it seems to be about this now. Not about death, but aging. :)
I've been wanting to blog for a long time now... to move myself into a habit of daily writing. I'm thinking I have important ideas about teaching and parenting and being a friend - ideas that others might want to read about. But I also need a habit in order to finish that darn thesis of mine. Plus, I love the idea of reaching out and sharing my voice with your voices. Connecting.
So... now, I have another reason - cancer. I'm not that afraid, but I am a little. But if I blog, I can talk less and inform more. I'm blessed with lots of folks who are my family and friends. And that means I have to tell the same story over and over and over. That's a little exhausting. Not that you can't ever ask me, please do. It's just that I might reply, "Updated info has been posted on my my blog." LOL! What a way to build up my reader-ship. :)
Here is what I know today:
Wednesday, June 6, 2012 - second imaging revealed a spot and need for ultra sound. Dr. Mitchell, radiologist recommended a biopsy - and prepared me - at the time it looked like cancer.
Thursday, June 7, 2012 - Dr. Mitchell called and said pathology reported cancer, grade 2 (not stage - that pathology info is to come).
Friday, June 8, 2012 - MRI revealed good news: no other spots or cancer in my breasts. I was also tested for BRCA2, an abnormal gene that runs in the Grabow side of my family. That info will inform my surgeon, Dr. Beverly Talbert, and me about next steps.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012 - I will meet Dr. Beverly Talbert and learn more.
That's all I know today, that and I have a lot of good folks praying for me. I also know, that I'm going to be okay. :) I've survived other challenges and I know lots of survivors who already inspire me view challenges as opportunities for spiritual growth.
Don't even think this is going to make me less political. Like I told Father Jack, "A girls gotta have goals."
Life is Good!
P.S. Look for my next post: "Rose Discarded." It's a draft of a poem I began on a Writing Marathon. Ironic that I wrote it then and it seems to be about this now. Not about death, but aging. :)
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