Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Whew! Radiation is Complete Alright ...
... and now I am really "feeling the burn!" The doctor said that even though my radiation treatments are complete, my skin will probably continue to blister and burn for a few more days. I am in a lot of pain. Doc gave me soaks and "cool pads" to put on, and Vicoden to take orally, but these things don't help much. Still though, if all this pain, all the sickness, and all the surgeries keep this cancer monster from EVER returning to terrorize my body, IT IS ALL WORTH IT!!! I attached a photo of my under-arm area so that you could see why I am STILL having problems using my right arm. I thought once I got well past the surgery, my arm would be more useable. But having lost so many lymph nodes on that side made it difficult. And now, as you can see by the photo, I am still having trouble using my arm. But once I finally get this under control, you'll be hearing from me personally!
Love to all, still and always,
Deb 333333333333
Friday, March 12, 2010
YAY!! RADIATION IS COMPLETE!!
My treatments are officially done! Oh my gosh, I never thought I would get here, but here I am! Six weeks of radiation, five days a week, 30 treatments, and I am done! Yippee! Now mind you, it is not without pain. True enough, radiation didn't make me sick like chemo did, but lemme tell ya, I am BURNED pretty badly across my chest and most significantly under my arm. My skin is badly blistered and a very deep red. Under my arm, it's beyond red and is a black color. The doctor gave me ointments, soaks, cool packs and the like to put on the burned areas, and these things help. But it is still quite painful. BUT COMPLAINING, I AM NOT! I guess I am now considered to be cancer free! I hope this is true, and most of all, I hope this horrible beast never returns to threaten my life again.
In the radiology oncology office hangs a very large marine bell. On it is engraved, "THIS BELL RINGS FOR ALL WHO HAVE WALKED THIS PATH." And along the bottom of the bell is engraved: "Courage, Hope, Triumph, Strength, Faith, Love." On the last day of treatment, patients celebrate by ringing this bell, and it is LOUD. So today, I got to ring the bell! And I let it CLANG, too! There are several ladies I have shared the waiting room with over these last several weeks, and we have kind of become our own little support group (though I am still the highest of them all, at stage three; and I am the only radical mastectomy while the others are all lumpectomies). Anyway, knowing it was my last day today, one of the ladies brought me flowers. And when I rang the bell, she and another of my "buddies" were in a photo I had taken of the event. I will cherish these fellow breast cancer survivors forever. And Linda (the one who gave me flowers) and I plan to meet for dinner soon. I also plan to go back next week, when it will be the last day for many of these ladies, to watch them ring the bell too. The bond we ladies formed is very touching and meaningful to me.
So everyone, another milestone reached. Now I am "off" for a few months, other than checkups with all the various doctors on my team, one of whom is the plastic surgeon. I will see him at the beginning of April, and hopefully, he will be able to give me some idea of when the reconstructive surgery can be expected. WHEW! I can't believe how far I've come, and ..............
I WOULD NOT HAVE MADE IT THIS FAR WITHOUT THE LOVE, THE SINCERE LOVE AND SUPPORT OF ALL OF YOU OUT THERE!!!!!! Gosh, the cards, the gifts, the prayers and the good wishes sent my way throughout this process have been very instrumental in successfully getting me to this point! And the cheering me on! I don't know HOW I'd have done this without all of you! It has NOT been an easy journey. In fact, it has far and away been the most difficult physical challenge I have ever faced. It's true what they say: "Breast cancer is not for sissies." I am so blessed and so thankful for all of you who have kept me close at heart all this time. My personal thank-you's are coming soon, as promised! My right arm (my writing arm) is still very weak and difficult to use, but it is getting better every day. And I have not forgotten the importance of letting loved ones know on a more personal level than a blog, what the support of all of you has meant to me! THANK YOU!
I have taken many photos throughout this journey, and they include all the things my beloved supporters have sent me along the way. Everything from cards to flowers to gifts have been photographed, so I will forever be able to enjoy and remember the love and prayers that I have been so blessed by. There are also photos of me going through this process throughout, a couple of which you have seen (for example, that shot of me in bed, so chemo-sick, I could hardly think). I have begun a scrapbook of this painful process. It seems an odd subject matter to make a scrapbook of. Most scrapbooks contain happy memories. While my journey has not at all been a happy memory, it is, nonetheless, a year of my life that has significantly changed my life forever. One day, I hope to look back on this, look at what I went through and how far I've come. And I hope to say, "WOW! What the HECK was THAT???!!!"
I am not done blogging though, as this process is not yet over. I will still be blogging and keeping you up with checkups and the reconstructive surgeries (though I don't think I'll post photos of that!). And with this 30-pound weight gain (caused largely by the steroids in the chemo treatments), as well as my very, very SHORT, GRAY hair (still so short I continue to wear my wig), I am not exactly eager to post photos. But I WILL still be blogging! So please check in from time to time, comment if you are so inclined, cuz I LOVE reading your comments. And always, ALWAYS remember how much each and every one of you mean to both me AND my angel, Larry!
Love to all, and prayers of thanks, too!
Deb 333333333333
Monday, February 22, 2010
Hello folks,
I am trying to get better about keeping up with my blogs, but my naps seem to get in the way.
I’m doing okay, hangin’ in there. I am just now beginning the fourth week of six weeks of radiation. So far my skin seems to be holding up okay, from what I can tell as a layman. It’s a little more tanned than it was, but other than that, the skin seems to be holding up okay. I am very liberal with the creams and lotions the doctor gave me.
Compared to chemo, radiation is a breeze, though it does make me very tired. It doesn’t hurt though, I don’t have to get poked, and it is pretty fast. I am usually in and out within a half hour, start to finish. In addition, many of the women there are also breast cancer patients, and many nice acquaintances are being formed in that waiting room. We women in there have appointments every day, all 10 minutes apart. So it is the same group of women in there every single day. It’s nice to chat with others in the same mess I’m in. I am still the winner, however, in the severity of my cancer’s stage. Everyone else is Stage 2 or lower, and here’s me at (gulp) Stage 3. The level of fear amongst all of us is the same though. Everyone in there has a sobering, calm, unspeakable fear. No one is shaking and crying, just accepting and hoping for the best. We all talk quietly amongst ourselves, often in low whispers, about all the “what if’s” we experience, as if somehow should our words be too loud, the fears will come true. And we talk about how this experience has caused drastic changes in the way we all look at things, how this has impacted all of our lives forever.
We also talk about the stories we all hear of breast cancer survivors. And we note that, unless experiencing this disease firsthand, no one really knows what it took or how hard it was for those ladies to become survivors. Until now, for all of us ladies in that waiting room, seeing breast cancer survivors celebrating was wonderful. But now we all have a whole new appreciation for WHY that celebration is so important to them. This has been a difficult and profoundly frightening battle for all of us ladies there in that waiting room. The journey has been long, painful, and so challenging. We are all tired, weak, still in pain, afraid, and feel alone, as we all sit there together with caps covering our bald heads. We all have battered self images and compromised self esteem. Yet, we all look forward to the hopeful thought of joining our brave "predecessors in pink" in the celebration of survival. Of wearing that pink ribbon and giving it the same personal stature and honor as a Purple Heart, because we earned it through a very tough fight. And we all hope and pray that one day, we’ll be strong and healthy again, so that we too, can reach out to the “newbies,” and help them through what so many courageous women who have gone before us have helped us through.
~ ~ ~ ~ SIGH ~ ~ ~ ~
My hair is coming in quite quickly, considering that just a month ago, it was all skin. My hair looks to be mostly white, but darker in back. I may just let it grow all the way back in to the length it was before without coloring it, just to see what it looks like. My eyebrows are almost totally back in, so it’s back to daily tweezing (ugh). And I am getting tired of gluing on false eyelashes (what a pain!), so it’s nice to see that my own lashes are coming in too. My nails are quite another story though. They are very short and very thin, broken and peeling. I had worn acrylics for years and years, and I would start having them done again, but the doctors advise against it. Apparently one way they monitor things is by looking at the nails, so they recommend no acrylics.
I've recently developed a severe ache in my right arm, which my radiation oncologist seems to think may possibly be lymphedema, due to the surgical removal of so many (19) of my lymph nodes on the right side. So I have yet another doctor on my team, a lymphedema specialist, whom I am scheduled to see next week.
I continue to receive many, many cards and notes from well wishers, who are praying for me and letting me know I am in their thoughts. I know I say this a LOT, but honestly, I just have no way of ever expressing what those cards mean to me. I will keep them always and treasure them. They are truly uplifting and encouraging to me. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
So until next time, I will keep all of YOU in MY prayers too. I am so blessed in so many ways, but especially in having so many people cheering me on in this battle. Thank you one and all, and forever.
Love and God’s blessings,
Deb
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Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Feeling Pretty Down
Hi to all my family and friends,
Seems I am slowing down on my blogs of late. I apologize for that. I have been pretty down lately, feeling alone and scared. I don't know why. I know a positive attitude is key to recovery, and I have tried to be positive and stay upbeat. Now that chemo is behind me -- which was torture for me -- you would think I would be happy to move forward with my treatments and my life. Trust me, I am eccstatic that chemo is over with!
I have now begun radiation treatments. This is my first week. I will have 30 treatments in all, five days a week for six weeks. I have had only three radiation treatments so far, but to date, they are totally painless and not nearly as difficult as chemo was. Another reason I should be happy and positive.
Now more than ever, I increasingly find myself lacking confidence that I'll be okay. Up until now, this whole thing has been absolutely surreal to me, like a nightmare I can't wake up from. Now that the worst is behind me as far as treatments go, I think everything is FINALLY sinking in with me. Oh I always understood what was going on, of course, and the dangers and seriousness of it, but it was pretty abstract to me at the same time. Now however, the fear is really taking over, and I am so afraid I won't survive, at least not for more than 3 or 4 years. I get different stories from different doctors. My oncologist told me that with all my treatments (modified radical mastectomy, chemo and radiation), there was only a 14% chance of the cancer returning. Pretty good numbers. Then, when I moved on to radiation therapy, the radiation oncologist told me that there was a 14% chance of the cancer returning to THE ORIGINALLY AFFECTED AREA, but that because my stage was so high (stage 3), there was a higher chance that the cancer would return elsewhere in my body. Gulp. Then I got on the 'net to try to find a discussion group made up of stage 3, LONG-TERM survivors. I could find none. Further, I read on the internet that there was only a 50% survival rate for stage-3 breast cancer patients.
Soooo ... I don't exactly have the warm fuzzies here. Truth be known, I am scared out of my wits, and quite depressed.
With chemo finished, I would have thought I would have begun to perk up a bit physically, too. While I am no longer nauseous, I am still very, very tired. It takes very little to wipe me out. Even stress seems to wear me out. Yesterday, we had another upset with our insurance company (the second such upset), who is questioning whether they will cover the $130,000 cost of my radiation treatments, and whether I even need the radiation therapy at all. As it turns out, they now assure us they WILL cover it, but the stress it brought on before the approval wiped me out so much that I slept for three hours in the afternoon yesterday, and 11 hours through the night last night. IS THIS DEGREE OF FATIGUE NORMAL WHEN I'VE BEEN FINISHED WITH CHEMO FOR FIVE WEEKS NOW??
A bright spot in my week: I got a new wig. The wig I originally started with, which was not cheap, was one I was never really comfortable wearing. I felt it looked very "wiggy," seemed to be the wrong color, and the style wasn't right. I recently ordered a "cheapie" from one of the TV shopping channels. I was astonished at how much more confident it made me feel the moment I put it on. It is a short style, and I have never had short hair, so that is something I definitely have to get used to. But the quality and color of this more inexpensive wig is very impressive, and though the style is not one I am used to, I feel more confident in it because it looks so much more believable. So there are still good things happening.
Of course, I never EVER take for granted the love and support of family and friends. How I hope I am around for years and years to enjoy all of you for a long, long time, and to forever thank all of you for all of that love and support. This ALWAYS remains a bright spot for me and really keeps me going. Truly it does.
Now that I have bellyached and acted like a cry baby, I will sign off for now. I thank all of you for letting me vent, and indeed for even reading and keeping up with my blogs. There are so many out there so much worse off than I am, and I have so much to be thankful for. But often, it's easy to temporarily lose sight of that when I am so, so scared. "Stage 3." Please give me another chance at life, Lord.
My love and hugs to all of you.
Deb 3333333333
Seems I am slowing down on my blogs of late. I apologize for that. I have been pretty down lately, feeling alone and scared. I don't know why. I know a positive attitude is key to recovery, and I have tried to be positive and stay upbeat. Now that chemo is behind me -- which was torture for me -- you would think I would be happy to move forward with my treatments and my life. Trust me, I am eccstatic that chemo is over with!
I have now begun radiation treatments. This is my first week. I will have 30 treatments in all, five days a week for six weeks. I have had only three radiation treatments so far, but to date, they are totally painless and not nearly as difficult as chemo was. Another reason I should be happy and positive.
Now more than ever, I increasingly find myself lacking confidence that I'll be okay. Up until now, this whole thing has been absolutely surreal to me, like a nightmare I can't wake up from. Now that the worst is behind me as far as treatments go, I think everything is FINALLY sinking in with me. Oh I always understood what was going on, of course, and the dangers and seriousness of it, but it was pretty abstract to me at the same time. Now however, the fear is really taking over, and I am so afraid I won't survive, at least not for more than 3 or 4 years. I get different stories from different doctors. My oncologist told me that with all my treatments (modified radical mastectomy, chemo and radiation), there was only a 14% chance of the cancer returning. Pretty good numbers. Then, when I moved on to radiation therapy, the radiation oncologist told me that there was a 14% chance of the cancer returning to THE ORIGINALLY AFFECTED AREA, but that because my stage was so high (stage 3), there was a higher chance that the cancer would return elsewhere in my body. Gulp. Then I got on the 'net to try to find a discussion group made up of stage 3, LONG-TERM survivors. I could find none. Further, I read on the internet that there was only a 50% survival rate for stage-3 breast cancer patients.
Soooo ... I don't exactly have the warm fuzzies here. Truth be known, I am scared out of my wits, and quite depressed.
With chemo finished, I would have thought I would have begun to perk up a bit physically, too. While I am no longer nauseous, I am still very, very tired. It takes very little to wipe me out. Even stress seems to wear me out. Yesterday, we had another upset with our insurance company (the second such upset), who is questioning whether they will cover the $130,000 cost of my radiation treatments, and whether I even need the radiation therapy at all. As it turns out, they now assure us they WILL cover it, but the stress it brought on before the approval wiped me out so much that I slept for three hours in the afternoon yesterday, and 11 hours through the night last night. IS THIS DEGREE OF FATIGUE NORMAL WHEN I'VE BEEN FINISHED WITH CHEMO FOR FIVE WEEKS NOW??
A bright spot in my week: I got a new wig. The wig I originally started with, which was not cheap, was one I was never really comfortable wearing. I felt it looked very "wiggy," seemed to be the wrong color, and the style wasn't right. I recently ordered a "cheapie" from one of the TV shopping channels. I was astonished at how much more confident it made me feel the moment I put it on. It is a short style, and I have never had short hair, so that is something I definitely have to get used to. But the quality and color of this more inexpensive wig is very impressive, and though the style is not one I am used to, I feel more confident in it because it looks so much more believable. So there are still good things happening.
Of course, I never EVER take for granted the love and support of family and friends. How I hope I am around for years and years to enjoy all of you for a long, long time, and to forever thank all of you for all of that love and support. This ALWAYS remains a bright spot for me and really keeps me going. Truly it does.
Now that I have bellyached and acted like a cry baby, I will sign off for now. I thank all of you for letting me vent, and indeed for even reading and keeping up with my blogs. There are so many out there so much worse off than I am, and I have so much to be thankful for. But often, it's easy to temporarily lose sight of that when I am so, so scared. "Stage 3." Please give me another chance at life, Lord.
My love and hugs to all of you.
Deb 3333333333
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The Lord Shone Down on Us Today!
It's been a long time again since I've blogged. Sorry 'bout that. I have been trying still, to get over the chemo treatments; they were on the rough side for me. I have still been very tired, sluggish, listless and still have a bit of leftover bone pain. I am told by the doctors that my chemo treatments were very strong, so maybe my reactions were normal rather than baby-fied. Additionally, I have gained a whopping 30 pounds, which has been so discouraging to me. The doctor told me that this was normal, because the chemo I was given was all steriods. He also said it would be hard to lose these extra pounds because I am post-menopausal, and also, too tired from the treatments to exercise. Well, BAH.
But now to Larry. Today was his heart procedure. They thought they detected a blockage in one of his arteries, and thought he may need an angioplasty as well as a stent. They got in there today, and guess what: everything was clear! Therefore, Larry needed no stent, and no angioplasty! The blockage they thought they saw was a shadow from his diaphragm. THANK YOU, LORD! What a blessing to receive GOOD medical news! They still went up through a main arterie in Larry's right leg though, so he's on bedrest for a few days now. But how do you like that? NO BLOCKAGES! Clean as a whistle. THANK YOU, LORD!
As for me, I begin my radiation treatments next Monday, Feb 1. I was supposed to have begun yesterday, but there were many hiccups in the procedure. First, the doctor had not yet received approval from the insurance company. Next, the doctor said he would rather wait for the chemo to be completely out of my system, at least one more week. And third, there was a power outage while I was there, which caused all the radiation machines to shut down and need servicing. On top of that, the radiation oncologist was trying to work my radiation around Larry's heart procedure. With all the trip-ups that happened yesterday, we just decided to delay the start of my radiation for another week, and that way, I could give Larry my full attention for his procedure today. Meanwhile, this will give them time to get their fancy machines back up and running again. Radiation was just not meant to be for me yesterday!
Still a great deal of discomfort with this tissue expander. I have many months to go with it still implanted in there. I am also getting discouraged and afraid; my fears go up and down. But there are a few things the radiation oncolgist has said that have weakend my spirit and encouraged more fear. Things like, " Hmmm ... stage 3 ... well, we're doing all we can ..." or, "well, for your advanced case, we're going to use a very sophisticated type of radiation ..." and, "there are no guarantees ..." Ugh. I am so scared.
I think my hair is starting to come back a little. Since I had it shaved, it's always remained bristly, but now, there are soft little peach-fuzz hairs sprouting through the stiff ones. I hope I'm not seeing things! Unfortunately though, I continue to lose eyelashes and eyebrows. Oh well. Hopefully they'll come back soon too.
Guess that's going to have to be it for tonight. I am pretty tired and it's been a long day. Thanks to all of you for your prayers and thoughts for both Larry and me. It is so wonderful to know that so many care about us and are rooting for us! We thank and love you all and are humbled by your continued love and support.
Love to all of you,
Deb AND Larry
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But now to Larry. Today was his heart procedure. They thought they detected a blockage in one of his arteries, and thought he may need an angioplasty as well as a stent. They got in there today, and guess what: everything was clear! Therefore, Larry needed no stent, and no angioplasty! The blockage they thought they saw was a shadow from his diaphragm. THANK YOU, LORD! What a blessing to receive GOOD medical news! They still went up through a main arterie in Larry's right leg though, so he's on bedrest for a few days now. But how do you like that? NO BLOCKAGES! Clean as a whistle. THANK YOU, LORD!
As for me, I begin my radiation treatments next Monday, Feb 1. I was supposed to have begun yesterday, but there were many hiccups in the procedure. First, the doctor had not yet received approval from the insurance company. Next, the doctor said he would rather wait for the chemo to be completely out of my system, at least one more week. And third, there was a power outage while I was there, which caused all the radiation machines to shut down and need servicing. On top of that, the radiation oncologist was trying to work my radiation around Larry's heart procedure. With all the trip-ups that happened yesterday, we just decided to delay the start of my radiation for another week, and that way, I could give Larry my full attention for his procedure today. Meanwhile, this will give them time to get their fancy machines back up and running again. Radiation was just not meant to be for me yesterday!
Still a great deal of discomfort with this tissue expander. I have many months to go with it still implanted in there. I am also getting discouraged and afraid; my fears go up and down. But there are a few things the radiation oncolgist has said that have weakend my spirit and encouraged more fear. Things like, " Hmmm ... stage 3 ... well, we're doing all we can ..." or, "well, for your advanced case, we're going to use a very sophisticated type of radiation ..." and, "there are no guarantees ..." Ugh. I am so scared.
I think my hair is starting to come back a little. Since I had it shaved, it's always remained bristly, but now, there are soft little peach-fuzz hairs sprouting through the stiff ones. I hope I'm not seeing things! Unfortunately though, I continue to lose eyelashes and eyebrows. Oh well. Hopefully they'll come back soon too.
Guess that's going to have to be it for tonight. I am pretty tired and it's been a long day. Thanks to all of you for your prayers and thoughts for both Larry and me. It is so wonderful to know that so many care about us and are rooting for us! We thank and love you all and are humbled by your continued love and support.
Love to all of you,
Deb AND Larry
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Friday, January 8, 2010
This One's for Larry
Happy weekend to everyone,
As I mentioned in my last blog, today my husband Larry had an appointment with his cardiologist. Larry has had a pacemaker since 2003, and recently had a stress test. The test came back "abnormal," so today's appointment was to find out what that was all about.
Larry has a blockage in one of the three arteries in his heart. Thank God they found it! So the plan is to do an angioplasty to open up the artery, then implant a stent to keep the artery open. This will be an overnight stay in the hospital, and the doctor says it is a rather routine procedure. While every medical procedure has risks, the doctor feels that Larry will be just fine. THANK YOU, LORD!!! Our appointment for the stent procedure is January 26, just a couple of weeks from now. It will be done at our second home these days, Troy Beaumont.
We would sure appreciate your prayers as we head into this procedure. Again, the doctor was very reassuring, and Larry seems to have no worries at all about having this problem fixed. And again, we are just both so grateful that the problem was detected before a "major cardiac event" occurred.
As for me, I am having a pretty good day today. Not much pain, still very tired and sluggish, and of course, still very scared. But our health, both Larry's and mine, rests in the Lord's hands, and we just have to give it all over to Him.
Thank you ALL so much for your continued prayers and thoughts! Believe me when I say over and over, that they are working, and we are so appreciative of all of you!
Love, Deb 33333333333
As I mentioned in my last blog, today my husband Larry had an appointment with his cardiologist. Larry has had a pacemaker since 2003, and recently had a stress test. The test came back "abnormal," so today's appointment was to find out what that was all about.
Larry has a blockage in one of the three arteries in his heart. Thank God they found it! So the plan is to do an angioplasty to open up the artery, then implant a stent to keep the artery open. This will be an overnight stay in the hospital, and the doctor says it is a rather routine procedure. While every medical procedure has risks, the doctor feels that Larry will be just fine. THANK YOU, LORD!!! Our appointment for the stent procedure is January 26, just a couple of weeks from now. It will be done at our second home these days, Troy Beaumont.
We would sure appreciate your prayers as we head into this procedure. Again, the doctor was very reassuring, and Larry seems to have no worries at all about having this problem fixed. And again, we are just both so grateful that the problem was detected before a "major cardiac event" occurred.
As for me, I am having a pretty good day today. Not much pain, still very tired and sluggish, and of course, still very scared. But our health, both Larry's and mine, rests in the Lord's hands, and we just have to give it all over to Him.
Thank you ALL so much for your continued prayers and thoughts! Believe me when I say over and over, that they are working, and we are so appreciative of all of you!
Love, Deb 33333333333
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Initial Consult with Radiation Oncologist was Today
Here I am again, everyone (thank God!)
Today brings the beginning of yet another phase in the road to my recovery. Larry and I visited the radiation oncologist for the first time today. It was both comforting and scary to me. I had been told by several that once I got through chemo, radiation would be a breeze. Yet, I left the radiation oncolgist's office today feeling a bit of anxiety. While I really liked him, he didn't sugar coat anything. He said that while I had been correctly told that my chances for a cancer recurrance were only about 15 percent, he clarified that the low chance of recurrance meant recurrance to THE AREA THAT'S BEING TREATED. He added though, that radiation can, in some cases, CAUSE MORE cancers to occur elsewhere. And further, because I have already had a high-stage, advanced, aggressive cancer, my chances of getting another cancer elsewhere were increased. Also, there is a chance that if the cancer recurs in the same area, it would likely be along my scar line. Ugh. However, my prognosis for what I am being treated for remains good. So at least that is something for which to be so thankful. I am kicking myself, because I knew for such a long time that I was ill, and chose to wait such a long time to confront what I knew was a serious problem. BAD IDEA.
I have been prescribed 33 radiation treatments, which will take place five days a week for a little over a six-week period. Next week, I will go in and a cast of my chest will be made, and I will be marked for a reference as to where to aim the beam. I'm told radiation treatments will make me tired and that I might develop sunburn-like symptoms, but that the side effects are not nearly as brutal as those of chemo.
The neuropathy in my extremities continues to plague me, and doesn't yet seem to be improving. But I am told to be patient, that it could be awhile before improvement occurs, if at all. Swelling is still an issue and I miss wearing my lovely and sentimental wedding rings. But I am still here!
News on my tissue expander. I saw my plastic surgeon early this week (whom I LOVE -- he is such a wonderful, skilled and compassionate doctor). He examined my surgical area and tissue expander and determined that I am DONE getting fills! Woo hoo! He said my skin was plenty unhappy with us already, and that he felt he had stretched it enough to be adequate for reconstruction. Of course, he cautioned that we won't know until radiation treatments are complete the effects it will leave behind. Naturally ("unnaturally"?), we are hoping an implant will still be an option, but if not, the plastic surgeon assured me that there are still plenty of other successful reconstructive options he can exercise. And in his comforting, A+ bedside manner (one of the many things that makes him a top-notch doctor), he told me I had been through so much already and that I had traveled a really rough road. Whew! Did that ever confirm my feelings! I'd begun to think the tears I shed throughout the torturous chemo cycles were because I was just a big baby. I mentioned this to the plastic surgeon, telling him that there were times throughout the chemo treatments that I literally thought I would surely die, and another enlightening piece of information came to light. He told me that during chemo, they fill you with so much of that toxic drug that it brings you right to the brink of death, that that's when they back off the dosage a bit. I laughed -- he didn't. I asked if he was serious, and he said he was. Well no wonder I felt like I'd literally been poisoned nearly to death! Now, I don't know if others who go through chemo react as violently as I did (I have heard that many sail right through it, and some are even able to continue working throughout), but I just know that for me, at the advanced stage I was, it was pretty difficult.
Well, this has certainly been enough about me. Please allow me to ask for prayers for my BELOVED PRINCE OF A HUSBAND, Larry. As many of you know, Larry has had a pacemaker since 2003. He had a stress test a couple of weeks ago, and we have been told there was an "abnormality" in his results. We are going to see the cardiologist this Friday to find out what exactly we are up against with this. We are hoping that it is nothing more than time to replace the pacemaker. I am glad I am starting to feel a little stronger in case we are facing yet another health challenge. I will keep my blog updated on this situation too, and I will thank you all in advance for your prayers. Believe me, we appreciate them so very much!
So, with the holidays having drawn to a close and life beginning to return to normal, at least from a day-to-day standpoint, let us once again wish all of you a happy and healthy 2010. I will forever be reminded of, and so grateful for, the importance of family and friends. And thank you to all of you who've left such tender and encouraging comments here on my blog. You have no idea how deeply they touch my heart, and how profusely I thank God for each of you.
Love, Deb 33333333333
Today brings the beginning of yet another phase in the road to my recovery. Larry and I visited the radiation oncologist for the first time today. It was both comforting and scary to me. I had been told by several that once I got through chemo, radiation would be a breeze. Yet, I left the radiation oncolgist's office today feeling a bit of anxiety. While I really liked him, he didn't sugar coat anything. He said that while I had been correctly told that my chances for a cancer recurrance were only about 15 percent, he clarified that the low chance of recurrance meant recurrance to THE AREA THAT'S BEING TREATED. He added though, that radiation can, in some cases, CAUSE MORE cancers to occur elsewhere. And further, because I have already had a high-stage, advanced, aggressive cancer, my chances of getting another cancer elsewhere were increased. Also, there is a chance that if the cancer recurs in the same area, it would likely be along my scar line. Ugh. However, my prognosis for what I am being treated for remains good. So at least that is something for which to be so thankful. I am kicking myself, because I knew for such a long time that I was ill, and chose to wait such a long time to confront what I knew was a serious problem. BAD IDEA.
I have been prescribed 33 radiation treatments, which will take place five days a week for a little over a six-week period. Next week, I will go in and a cast of my chest will be made, and I will be marked for a reference as to where to aim the beam. I'm told radiation treatments will make me tired and that I might develop sunburn-like symptoms, but that the side effects are not nearly as brutal as those of chemo.
The neuropathy in my extremities continues to plague me, and doesn't yet seem to be improving. But I am told to be patient, that it could be awhile before improvement occurs, if at all. Swelling is still an issue and I miss wearing my lovely and sentimental wedding rings. But I am still here!
News on my tissue expander. I saw my plastic surgeon early this week (whom I LOVE -- he is such a wonderful, skilled and compassionate doctor). He examined my surgical area and tissue expander and determined that I am DONE getting fills! Woo hoo! He said my skin was plenty unhappy with us already, and that he felt he had stretched it enough to be adequate for reconstruction. Of course, he cautioned that we won't know until radiation treatments are complete the effects it will leave behind. Naturally ("unnaturally"?), we are hoping an implant will still be an option, but if not, the plastic surgeon assured me that there are still plenty of other successful reconstructive options he can exercise. And in his comforting, A+ bedside manner (one of the many things that makes him a top-notch doctor), he told me I had been through so much already and that I had traveled a really rough road. Whew! Did that ever confirm my feelings! I'd begun to think the tears I shed throughout the torturous chemo cycles were because I was just a big baby. I mentioned this to the plastic surgeon, telling him that there were times throughout the chemo treatments that I literally thought I would surely die, and another enlightening piece of information came to light. He told me that during chemo, they fill you with so much of that toxic drug that it brings you right to the brink of death, that that's when they back off the dosage a bit. I laughed -- he didn't. I asked if he was serious, and he said he was. Well no wonder I felt like I'd literally been poisoned nearly to death! Now, I don't know if others who go through chemo react as violently as I did (I have heard that many sail right through it, and some are even able to continue working throughout), but I just know that for me, at the advanced stage I was, it was pretty difficult.
Well, this has certainly been enough about me. Please allow me to ask for prayers for my BELOVED PRINCE OF A HUSBAND, Larry. As many of you know, Larry has had a pacemaker since 2003. He had a stress test a couple of weeks ago, and we have been told there was an "abnormality" in his results. We are going to see the cardiologist this Friday to find out what exactly we are up against with this. We are hoping that it is nothing more than time to replace the pacemaker. I am glad I am starting to feel a little stronger in case we are facing yet another health challenge. I will keep my blog updated on this situation too, and I will thank you all in advance for your prayers. Believe me, we appreciate them so very much!
So, with the holidays having drawn to a close and life beginning to return to normal, at least from a day-to-day standpoint, let us once again wish all of you a happy and healthy 2010. I will forever be reminded of, and so grateful for, the importance of family and friends. And thank you to all of you who've left such tender and encouraging comments here on my blog. You have no idea how deeply they touch my heart, and how profusely I thank God for each of you.
Love, Deb 33333333333
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