The End of This Trail...

It is so hard to believe that I'm pretty much at the the end of my cancer journey. I got my final treatment last Thursday. I have other appointments. I will get a heart scan and then see my oncologist in early December. I'll make regular trips to the treatment center to get my port flushed until they finally decide to remove it. I guess that will be the true end of it all.

I'll keep the port for a while, just in case a new problem arises. Lord willing, that won't be an issue. But better safe than sorry. I'll have a second mammogram on the breast that had the tumor some time early next year. I'll see my doctors regularly for the next year or so, then, assuming nothing new pops up, I'll be done with the cancer.

Of course, I'll never be truly rid of it. I'll spend the rest of my life feeling a bit like Damocles, always aware that there is a sword dangling overhead that could potentially drop at any moment. The difference, of course, is that unlike Damocles, I cannot simply choose to return to my carefree life. No cancer survivor can. Gosh, that sounds morbid, but I don't mean for it to. I'm simply pointing out that a cancer diagnosis is always life altering. Once that diagnosis is made, things change forever. Or they do for most of us. Because even if the cancer itself never returns, there are other consequences of having beaten the disease. Like the damage that can be done by the treatments that might not show up until years later. It becomes something of a waiting game, always wondering if that sword is going to come crashing down one day when you least expect it.

The point, I suppose, is that we have to keep going forward in spite of the danger we might face down the road. I can't just sit here and wait for the cancer to return or for my heart to fail or for any other frightening, unexpected, life-altering event. I have to live. I have to accept that things are different and always will be. I have to reject the part of me that is afraid of what might happen. It would be easy to live in fear. But I refuse to do it. Oh, I worry more now about little things. I mean, anything that "feels" wrong is enough to make me debate whether I need to talk to the doctor about it. Usually, I do. Because it would just be stupid not to. But I do not and will not let those concerns rule me.

God has given me freedom from the urge to worry or be afraid. To reject that freedom would be to reject Him. I won't be foolish, ignoring possible problems, but neither will I let fears of what might (or might not) happen at some point in the future ruin today. I had cancer. It will take years - a decade - of not seeing it return before doctors will give me the title of "Cancer Free." That's a long way off. And those words don't really mean anything in the grand scheme of things anyway. Because cancer doesn't operate on anyone's timetable. No matter how many times doctors and insurance companies tell us that we're not at the age where we need to worry about it, there will still be women like me who get a diagnosis in their thirties - or even younger. There will be women like my mother-in-law who get diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor that is generally considered a "man's cancer."  There will be people who beat it and go for decades before it suddenly rears it's ugly head once more. There will be children who barely begin to live before this damned disease takes their lives. And if it isn't cancer, then it will be something else. Life just can't be planned out like a business conference.

It is up to each of us to decide how we will live. Are we going to go through life with a massive chip on our shoulders, just daring God to knock it off? Or will we trust that He is always in control? That everything we experience, even the tragic, painful, or terrible things, are part of a grander plan that we cannot begin to see or understand? That's the belief I choose. I cannot fathom how anyone could do otherwise. Life is not easy. As the cliche says, no one ever promised it would be a bed of roses. And even if they had, roses have thorns. It is our responsibility to grow and learn from every experience. Our responsibility to understand that the world does not revolve around us. We don't have to understand everything. We don't have to have the answers to every single question. We just have to keep moving forward, keep growing and learning and trusting. And if we can do that, I think most of us will find that life comes with much more laughter and love than tears and pain. Because peace doesn't come from a lack of tribulation and storms, it comes from knowing that there is always a safe place in the heart of those storms. As one of my favorite expressions says, "God doesn't always quiet the storm, sometimes He quiets His child." Jesus said, "peace, be still" to the wind and waves, but He said it to us, too. Sometimes we just have to obey and let the waves and wind rage on around us.

My, How Time Flies...

It's almost over. There is one treatment left to go. There will still be a few more months of cancer related tests and appointments, of course. And the port will have to be flushed every six weeks until they decide to remove it. But after the first week in November, my cancer treatment will officially be over.

Looking back, it hardly seems possible that it has been more than a year since that moment when my doctor got that worried look on her face while doing my breast exam. It also seems hard to believe that that moment was truly the worst one of the whole journey. That instant when the whole world seemed to stop and my stomach dipped uneasily as I realized she'd found something she didn't like. That single split second when my mind leapt forward to the idea of cancer.

I know we're all different. From our individual personalities to our faith - or lack thereof - to our specific cancers and the treatments they require. Compared to so many others, I think I got off easy. I did not need a mastectomy. The cancer, while aggressive, was confined to that single tumor, making a lumpectomy the best option. My chemo was potent, but relatively short in duration. (Only 4 treatments of the worst stuff compared to others who've needed far more.) Eight total chemo treatments and six or so weeks of radiation just seemed to fly by.

When I look back, it's actually kind of hard to remember just how difficult it was. The pain could be intense at times. And the radiation left me feeling like a severely overcooked slab of meat, complete with blisters and peeling skin. There is still soreness. My breast varies from being mildly sore like an overworked muscle to being so sensitive that washing it in the shower is uncomfortable. It feels different than the other one. And while the Herceptin that I've been getting for the past year carries only one real side effect, it's a serious one. Potential heart failure at any point down the road. So that's something we'll have to keep an eye on. But all in all, I still count myself as having been profoundly blessed. Because I know I had it easy.

I think that's one of biggest keys to getting through the treatment. We have to keep in mind that it could always, ALWAYS,  be so much worse. Worse for me would be if it were someone other than myself. Because one of the things I have realized is that I find it profoundly easier to be the patient than to be the caregiver. Not because I dislike caring for others, but because it absolutely breaks my heart to see those I love in pain. I'm a fixer, I guess. Sadly, cancer isn't something that can be hugged or loved away.  Plus, I have no fear at all of dying. Losing those I love, however, is something I abhor.

Caring for and loving a cancer patient was infinitely more difficult for me than actually being the patient myself. Seeing what cancer did to my sister and mother-in-law hurt me in ways my own cancer couldn't begin to. I would gladly take on every illness of those I love just to keep them from having to go through it.

Which brings up another issue. My darling hubby has been diagnosed with type II diabetes. I have suspected it for a while and could kick myself for not forcing him to get tested sooner. It took his eyesight going haywire for him to finally admit something was wrong. Sure enough, his A1C test revealed that, at least for the past few months, his blood glucose levels have been hovering somewhere around 300! No wonder his eyesight went crazy. Funny thing is, it actually got better. A lot better. He's been on diabetes medication for about a month now and his eyesight is returning to normal, though it is still not back to where it was before.

He's a good patient, once he's actually convinced that there's a problem. He watches what he eats and was testing all the time until he got a handle on how certain foods effect his levels. I don't know if he's where he ultimately needs to be with his medication dosage, but he's come a long way from the high 200s and low 300s he was testing at in the beginning.

Ultimately, I see this as just another thing to be thankful for. Because God saw fit to give him a symptom he couldn't ignore. Because he's now being treated and is losing weight to boot. (Now, if I could just do the same. [sigh])  I'm almost finished with my treatment, he's easing into a new job, and life is incredibly good. I wake up every day thinking about how blessed we are.

So, I suggest that anyone out there who is struggling to find the good in their cancer battle might want to simply be thankful that it is them in the battle instead of their spouse, parents, siblings, or children. That's what I am most thankful for.

Day One...

Well, today was day one in our efforts to read through the Bible in 90 days. Our reading was Genesis chapters 1-11 and Job chapters 1-5. Following our SOAP formula, I'm supposed to pick out a verse that stood out or spoke to me. There were a couple of them.

First, Genesis 1:1 always gets me. "In the beginning, God..." There is just so much power and meaning in those four little words. They are the foundation of the entire Bible, the basis of all our faith. In the beginning, God: was, existed, created the entire universe, saw the time when His own Son would become the sacrifice for the sins of the whole world, saw me, knew me, and loved me. He was the Alpha and the Omega even before the beginning! It makes logical sense for the Bible to begin with the account of the creation of the world, but more than that, I think there's even greater meaning to why the Bible begins with those first four words. Because without "In the beginning, God..." nothing else matters at all.

I just love those words. I love the incredible promise contained within them. Praise the Lord that God was there even before the beginning!

The other verse that caught my attention was Job 1:22: "In all this Job did not sin or charge God with wrong." For the sake of clarification, here is the "this" verse 22 refers to:

Now there was a day when his sons and daughters were eating and drinking wine in their oldest brother's house, and there came a messenger to Job and said, "The oxen were plowing and the donkeys feeding beside them, and the Sabeans fell upon them and took them and struck down the servants with the edge of the sword, and I alone have escaped to tell you." While he was yet speaking, there came another and said, "The fire of God fell from heaven and burned up the sheep and the servants and consumed them, and I alone have escaped to tell you." While he was yet speaking, there came another and said, "The Chaldeans formed three groups and made a raid on the camels and took them and struck down the servants with the edge of the sword, and I alone have escaped to tell you." While he was yet speaking, there came another and said, "Your sons and daughters were eating and drinking wine in their oldest brother's house, and behold, a great wind came across the wilderness and struck the four corners of the house, and it fell upon the young people, and they are dead, and I alone have escaped to tell you." Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. And he said, "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. Job 1:13-21 (ESV)

So, Job lost all his livestock and all his children on the same day, one report of bad news coming right on the heels of the last one and what did he do? He grieved, certainly. He tore his clothes and shaved his head in agony. But then he fell on the ground and worshiped God! He didn't get mad at God. He didn't blame God. He didn't stomp his feet and shout to the heavens, demanding to know why so much grief had been poured over him. He simply worshiped God. He immediately recognized and vocalized the truth that God is the source of all our blessings and it is in His hands how long we are allowed to keep them. Though the words are not said here, I can only believe that Job knew and believed with all his heart that "for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28 (ESV)

I wish I could say I've had that kind of trust and faith all my life. I haven't. I spent a lot of years after the death of my mother being miffed that God had taken her from me. I wanted to know why. And even after I finally found peace with that, I have had moments when I again found myself questioning God's wisdom and reasoning. Losing people we love is never easy. Even when we know they've made professions of salvation, when we believe they are gone to be in the presence of the Lord, letting go is always painful for us. The years have taught me to trust God, to rely on His strength to carry me through the hard times. Still, though I have learned to trust Him, I don't know that I could be as devoted as Job was if I lost as much as he did.

All of us who have been Christians for a while know Job's story. We know it got even worse after this, but that he remained faithful through it all, and that in the end, his faithfulness was greatly rewarded. There are all kinds of lessons to be learned from Job, which is precisely why God chose to include his story in the Bible. But I wonder how many of us really try to put ourselves in his place? How many of us take the time to try to imagine how overwhelming his grief must have been. I'm not a mother. I can't conceive of what it would be like to lose a child. But I have friends who have lost children. I know that no matter how many years pass, they still grieve for that child. No matter how many other children they have, there is always a place that cannot be filled. So imagine not losing one child, but losing 10 at one time. All your children just... gone. I imagine the loss of his livestock - which was substantial - didn't hold a candle to the loss of his children.

Now, try to imagine how you would react. Do you think you would praise God? Do you think you could? Could you utter the words, "blessed be the name of the Lord?" Or do you think you'd get stuck thinking about how unfair it was? Do you think you'd wind up looking at God and demanding that He explain just why He would allow you to suffer such intense pain?

Lord, I pray that you would give me strength and courage. That you would shore up my trust in You and erase any doubts that might still linger. Fill me with Your grace and wisdom so that I can face whatever comes with peace in my heart and praises for You on my lips. Amen.

A quick update about my health. I had another heart scan done on Tuesday, July 19. I went this morning to see my oncologist and get the results. My heart function had risen from 51% to 56%. It was at 61% when they did my baseline before I started chemo last year. So I'm on the way back up, which is very good news since it means I can continue to get my herceptin treatments. If all continues to go well, I'll finish them up some time in November. I'm more than half way there! I got my treatment today, so I've got 3 weeks until the next one.

God is so GOOD!!!

One Year Later...

It has been a year since my OB/GYN found the lump in my breast during a routine breast exam while I was in for my annual gynecological exam. Actually, it was a year on June 16th, but I went back for this year's exam today, June 20th. I don't mind saying that I was kinda holding my breath while she did my breast exam. I mean, I check myself regularly now. I didn't before the diagnosis, which leads me to see this as just one more time in my life (among countless others) when God showed me grace and protected me from my own idiocy.

Ladies,

DO MONTHLY BREAST SELF-EXAMS!!!!!

Anyway, despite the fact that I do my own exams regularly these days, I was still a bit concerned that she might find something I hadn't. I mean, she's the one who found the last lump. It was an irrational fear, I know, but I felt it none-the-less. I should let you know how much I love my OB/GYN. I've been going to her for years and years now. When I first found her, I lived quite a bit closer to where her office is located. These days it takes me closer to an hour to get there, since we've moved in the intervening years. But I don't mind the trip. Not for her. She is a master at making you feel comfortable and at ease in spite of what's going on. We always chat like we're sitting at a cafe table instead of with me naked as the day I was born with my legs up in stirrups. LOL  So while she was doing my breast exam we just chatted as usual. She was very thorough this time and I appreciated that. Not that she isn't always thorough, but she took a bit of extra time today. And praise God, she didn't find anything at all out of the ordinary. There was one funny moment when she felt my port beneath my skin and got a worried look on her face for just an instant before she realized what it was. We were both laughing about that.

We spent some time talking about my treatment, how it had gone and what I still had left to do. We talked about my not being able to take birth control pills ever again. This is an issue that has kind of confused both Mark and me since I was first told it by my Oncologist last year some time. My cancer was not hormone receptive. Most breast cancers are. So we kept trying to figure out why I had to avoid taking hormones of any kind since my cancer was negative for progesterone and estrogen. She said she'd heard it explained thus: If you think of breast cancer as a weed, then the hormones act kind of like a fertilizer. Since I have shown the ability to grow cancer, the last thing we'd want to do is "feed" my cells something that the cancer likes to eat. What a simple explanation!

Needless to say, I walked out of the office feeling a lot better this year than I did last year. The next big date will be my mammogram. That's coming up next month. It'll be my first since shortly before I got my official diagnosis last year. I've been x-rayed and scanned half to death plenty of times in the past year, but the mammogram is a big deal. One of my favorite sayings I've seen since I started my treatment is, "One more MRI and I'll stick to the fridge." I also like, "Any more radiation and I'll glow in the dark." There's also, "My oncologist does my hair." I put all these on t-shirts in my Zazzle store. There's a lot more than that, but these are some of the ones that still crack me up when I see them today.

So, what's happening a year later? What have I learned? Honestly, I don't know that I necessarily learned anything, other than the obvious experience of having gone through all the treatment. I went into it knowing I was going to need God to get me through it. And I have to say that He did. By His grace, I came through it all with flying colors. I don't know that I learned anything, per se, but I do know that I recognized a lot of things. I have spent this entire journey marveling at how much God has blessed me. Every step of the way, He supplied my needs, as He has promised us He would. But He went further and gave me so much more than just what I needed.

He didn't merely provide Mark with a job that would supply us with insurance. He gave Mark a job with the best insurance we have ever had, bar none. And this job also started out as a day shift job, working a schedule that allowed Mark to be off 2-3 days each week so that he'd be able to not only take me to my treatments, but be home on the first day or so afterward to take care of me. God didn't just supply me with treatment options, He blessed me with the option to get all my care at a location that was less than half an hour from home. He didn't just allow the medications I took to fight my cancer, He allowed me to take those medicines without enduring anything close to the worst of their possible side effects. God didn't just give me a husband who does his responsibility of providing for my physical needs, but He gave me a husband who loves me more than any other person on earth. One who made incredible sacrifices without complaint or reluctance. The list could go on and on and on.

I've recently taken part in an online conversation with a young man who in an atheist. He, like so many others, wanted us to explain to him, intellectually, how we came to believe in God. How we know God is real despite the fact that we have no proof. I wasn't the only one who responded that we do have proof. Aside from the fact that the Bible says that Creation itself is evidence of God's existence, I know God is real because I have seen the evidence of His hand touching my life. Oh, I know that atheists would call it coincidence or good luck or fate or a whole host of other things. But I know God is there. I have felt His touch on my life, heard His whisper in my ear, and witnessed His grace more times than I can count. There's a song that has been sung by many artists. I learned it courtesy of The Florida Boys. It's called, "My God Is Real."

There are some things I may not know, there are some places I can't go, but I am sure of this one thing, my God is real for I can feel Him in my soul.

My God is real, He's real in my soul, my God is real for He has washed and made me whole, His love for me is like pure gold. My God is real for I can feel Him in my soul.

I cannot tell just how I felt when Jesus washed my sins away, but since that day yes since that hour, God has been real for I can feel His holy power.

My God is real, He's real in my soul, my God is real for He has washed and made me whole, His love for me, is like pure gold. My God is real for I can feel Him in my soul.

Here's a video of them singing it, if you're interested:

As I recently told the young atheist, we can't provide him with scientific proof of God. For us, we believe God is real by faith, but countless experiences every day of our lives also confirm our faith. We see God everywhere, in everything. I know I certainly do.

And so, a year into living life as a woman with breast cancer, what I can say I have learned is that God is still real. He is still on the throne. Nothing happens by chance or luck or fate. Everything is part of His grand plan and He is never, ever far from our sides. I am so grateful for what He has given me. For His infinite love and patience and blessing, even when I don't deserve it. My God is real. And He's indescribably great!

Getting Back to Normal...

Normal. It's a relative term. But then everything in life is relative. Einstein sure had that right! Every thought, fear, and emotion is relative to our own personal experience and views. "Normalcy" is no different. They (scientists and/or psychologists) spend a lot of time studying what is normal. They run all kinds of tests, compile reams of data and statistics, then create charts and reports to explain what is or is not normal for an average, normal person. Personally, I think most of it is malarkey.

Still, I confess that I believe nothing about cancer treatment is "normal." The moment you hear that word come out of the mouth of a doctor "normal" goes right out the window. Maybe forever. But despite the lunacy of the treatment and the discomfort of the side effects, it all eventually comes to an end. The chemo and radiation - and by extension their side effects - are temporary. You get it, then you're done. They tell you that you'll start getting back to normal within a few weeks or months, depending on a lot of other factors. I can't really speak to that with authority yet because I have not gotten back to "normal." I'm getting there, though. There might be a mitigating factor keeping me from recovering as quickly as I should, but more on that later. First let's talk about what is changing.

The hair is the most obvious thing, I suppose. It's just growing like crazy. It's actually gotten long enough now that I have to take a comb to it after a shower or risk looking like a character from a Japanese Anime cartoon.

Not sure if he's sharing my opinion of his hairstyle here or not, 
but I know I give it a "thumb's down" when it's on my head.

So, I try to keep it under control, but have issues with the hair right over my ears. It's too short to keep tucked behind my ears and too long to just lay there nicely. It generally sticks straight out over my ears. Mark called me Mercury today. You know, the messenger of the gods who had wings on his feet and the sides of his head. Yeah.

Eventually the hair will get long enough to actually do something with it and I'm looking forward to that. For now I'm just glad that it's finally starting to fill in so that I don't look so much like a balding man. It's still a little thin in front, but it's filling in. I've got eyelashes again. At least more than I had for a while there. And my eyebrows are coming back, too. Unfortunately, along with the hair on my head, the hair in my armpits and on my legs is returning as well. Alas, shaving will soon be a part of my routine once more. It's a real shame that they can't come up with some way to engineer the chemo to kill of armpit and leg hair for good. Sigh.

So, the hair coming back is a good thing. I really, really miss having hair on my head. I keep looking at all my head bands, scrunchies, and barrettes with longing. I could wear the headbands, I guess, but what would be the point? They'd just make what little hair I have stick out like crazy. Believe me, I caught a glimpse of myself reflected in a glass door the other day with my sunglasses pushed up onto my head. It was NOT pretty. Along with the return of my hair, though, come some less than welcome parts of my old "normal."

I have been sick with sinus issues for two weeks now. It was very unpleasant for a while there. It's mostly gone now, aside from a nagging cough as I struggle to get rid of the last of the congestion that set up in my chest. I've got a sinking feeling, though, that this was just the beginning. I think my allergies are going to be a bear this year. If the stuffy nose and sneezing are already starting then it doesn't bode well for the rest of the growing season. None of this is cancer related, however. I mention being sick because I have felt terrible for several days. And just when I started feeling better a new problem cropped up. I woke up with a headache one day and it didn't leave for another three. I have most definitely not missed the migraines. They've been gloriously absent through my cancer treatment thanks to the impact the chemo had on my hormones. Now that they're getting back to "normal," though, the headaches triggered by them are returning as well. This was the first migraine I've had in months. Not looking forward to that routine again.

On a related note, I haven't had a menstrual cycle in months either. I expect them to be starting up again soon as well. I'm dreading that more than the return of the migraines. Without going into a lot of gory detail, my periods were nightmarish when I was young. I've been on birth control pills continuously for more than two decades. They helped regulate my cycles. (They also helped mitigate the migraines.) But I can't take birth control any longer so I'm concerned that the nightmare periods I experienced in my teens might return. All I can do is ask for prayer that this won't happen. Seriously, I really don't want to go through that kind of pain again. Sigh, again.

Now to the one side effect that should be easing but hasn't so far. Fatigue comes with both chemo and radiation. In truth, it's just part and parcel of the whole cancer experience. The treatment causes it, but the constant running back and forth for all the tests, doctor's appointments, and treatments adds to the problem. Once treatment ends, your body and mind can begin healing from all the abuse and the fatigue starts lifting. As a point of fact, I have read many accounts from other survivors that suggest it takes months or even a year or more to get back to "normal." Still, I expected to notice some improvement. I haven't. If anything, Mark and I have noticed that I seem to be more tired. I have chalked it up to lingering effects of the treatment. Today I got an indication that I might be wrong about that.

I mentioned before that I have to get regular tests to monitor the function of my heart. I got the first one before I got my first chemo. It was to give them a baseline to compare future tests to and to ensure that my heart was strong enough to endure the chemo. I received Adriamycin, which is known to be potentially damaging to the heart. This damage can be temporary or permanent and can appear with no warning at all either during treatment or at some point in the future. After completing the Adriamycin, I began getting Herceptin. This is not chemo, but is a medical therapy which is used to treat my specific kind of cancer. It targets a particular protein that is present in my cancer and makes it impossible for cells with that protein to reproduce. Unfortunately, Herceptin can also cause heart damage. I began the Herceptin in November and am supposed to receive it for a full year. They check my heart function regularly to make sure the Herceptin is not impacting it.

My baseline MUGA revealed my heart function to be 61%. Anything above 50% is considered normal. (There's that word again. LOL) In November, just before I began receiving Herceptin, it was 59%. In March it had dropped to 55% and my doctor mentioned that he was concerned enough to schedule my next MUGA early. I had it this past Tuesday and he gave me the results today. My heart function has dropped to 38%. This is, needless to say, a significant drop in my heart's pumping ability. It may very well explain why I am still feeling so tired all the time. So I did not get any Herceptin today. I will not be getting any until and unless my heart function rebounds. I will be getting another MUGA in approximately six weeks. They will set it up and call me with the date. Until then I just keep going. I have no activity restrictions, which is very good. Mark was worried about it and specifically asked the doctor that question. At this point there is no reason to flip out. Well, there's never a reason to flip out, but you get what I mean, I hope. If it is merely due to the Herceptin then it should bounce back fairly quickly. If it rebounds dramatically, we will try starting up the Herceptin again and see what happens. If it doesn't, then that's something we'll deal with once we get there.

In other news, I got all the results from my genetic testing and I am negative for either of the BRAC genes as well as any other genetic anomaly that might be to blame for my cancer. This is good news. At least I'm not carrying around a ticking time bomb just waiting to mutate some more cells. I might still have some stray cancer cells floating around somewhere that might someday take root and start growing again, but I'm not genetically predisposed to breast cancer at least. That's cause for celebration. Sadly, I was so sick around my birthday and over the past couple of weeks (and Mark was sick the week before that) that we still have not gotten around to having a celebratory dinner. I'm not bothered by it, though. I'm just grateful beyond words that I didn't have to make this journey alone. Not only do I have God to see me through it, He saw fit to give me a wonderful husband to help as well. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Lord! 

So, things are getting back to normal but normal isn't what it used to be. I'm not sure it will ever be completely the same again. But that's okay. Change is a fact of life and we all have to learn to live with it whether we like it or not. Generally speaking, I don't feel bad. My cold or whatever it was is mostly gone. I can finally sleep through the night again, which is something I couldn't manage for several days there due to the congestion in my sinuses and my chest. I spent more than one night sitting up in a recliner. It was not a fun time. But God got me through it with relative speed. I had medicine to take and it didn't turn into anything that I needed a doctor for. I see all this as a blessing. As my favorite motto says, it could always have been worse.

On another unrelated note, I need to thank God for one more big blessing. I had to be in Madison at 7AM Tuesday morning for that MUGA scan. That means we left home a bit before 6:30. It was still twilight out there and raining with the roads very wet and countless spots with heavy ponding on the roadway. We were moving along at a reasonable speed when we suddenly realized the road in front of us was blocked by a massive mudslide. This was the second one in a week along the same stretch of road. Mark couldn't swerve around it because there was an oncoming car. By the grace of God he got the car stopped before we plowed into the tangle of mud and trees. I tried to call 911, but was getting so much static on the line that I hung up. Then I tried to call the Jefferson County Sheriff's office but got a busy signal. I was waiting for a few moments to try to call them again when we passed a sheriff's car heading in the direction of the slide. His lights were off, so I don't know if he was responding to a call about it or if he just happened to be heading that way, but as Mark said, he'd find it either way. By the time we reached the hospital a few minutes later they were already reporting it on the radio. They had the road closed for more than 24 hours while they cleaned it all up. We passed it today and it's just amazing how much of the hill came down on the road.

As I said, it could always be worse. Thank God for His mercy and grace and protection. Whatever comes of my heart, I know I can rely on Him to take me through it. That's all I need to know.

Simple Truths...

Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.

This was the opening line of an email forwarded to me by a couple of my friends. It struck me that I know so many people out there who spend all their time being angry or disappointed or defeated by the loss of what they believe was their "destiny." We all have dreams when we're kids. Most of us go through a series of "what I want to be when I grow up" phases. Firemen (or women), police officers, cowboys, princesses, teachers, wives, husbands, parents, rock stars... the list goes on and on. For most of us, our dreams change and grow along with us. When I was in my teens I remember an acquaintance who wanted nothing in the world more than to grow up and get married and have babies. There are plenty of women out there who want children with a desire bordering on desperation. Men have their share of obsessions about who and what they want to be and want to have. We are all raised with notions of how life should be. Fairy tales probably don't help matters. They always end with everyone living "happily ever after." Worse, that ending always comes with the implication that "happily ever after" is something that just happens with no work at all. 

I'm not knocking fairy tales. I actually believe "happily ever after" CAN happen. I think it's happened to me. And while I would never, ever tell someone how to raise their children, I find it sad when I see children missing out on the wonder and magic of imagination given free reign. Sure, the real world is out there, lurking, and sooner or later we all have to learn to face it and deal with it. But these days kids seem to be growing up faster and faster all the time and that's a shame. We spend the majority of our lives as adults. Our childhoods ought to be filled with joy and laughter and impossible dreams. Reality hits us all too soon and I, for one, wish kids could hold on to their innocence as long as possible.

The problem is, too many out there grow up thinking they have some kind of RIGHT to get things their way. They get mad when things don't turn out the way they thought they should, or the way they were raised to believe things "should" turn out. As wonderful as the fairy tales are, I think we all need to remember that the real world just doesn't work that way. Like I said, I don't believe "happily ever after" is a myth, I just happen to know that it doesn't come easy and it takes a lot of work. And this is where the trouble starts. I'll use myself as an example.

I was supposed to go to college and get married. I was NOT supposed to wake up one day at 17 to find my mother collapsed on the bathroom floor. I wasn't supposed to be sitting in the ICU of a hospital on the one year anniversary of my engagement waiting for my mother to die. I wasn't supposed to bury my father three years later. I wasn't supposed to find out the day after 9/11 that my sister was dying of cancer. I wasn't supposed to watch my mother-in-law, and best friend, lose the ability to speak because of the terminal brain cancer that killed her. And I wasn't supposed to go in for a routine yearly exam and come out with breast cancer. I was barely 39. I have no family history of breast cancer at all. None of these things were ever a part of my childhood dreams. Until the day my mother died, I never even considered that losing her was a possibility. For a lot of years, I was lost to my anger and grief over this event. It wasn't "supposed" to happen. But it did. All of it.

I've been told by more than one person that I have a "good" or "wonderful" attitude as I deal with having cancer. Compared to the reactions I've seen in some others, I guess my attitude is a good one. But the reality is, I've learned how to face the often painful and ugly realities of life out of necessity. I lost so much time to depression when my mother died. Even today, more than two decades later, I occasionally have flashes of the old anger and grief. Mostly, I just miss her. I miss my father and my sister. I miss my husband's mom. The anger I once felt over the "unfairness" of it all is pretty much gone. Because the fact is, no one ever promised us that life would be fair. God certainly didn't. He never said that we would sail through life with sunny skies and smooth seas. In fact, He pretty much said the opposite. But that's a lesson too few of us seem to learn. 

And this is where that quote above rings so true. Life just never goes the way it's "supposed" to go. Tragedy strikes all the time. One viewing of the news should teach us all that truth. None of the nearly 15,000 who died in Japan expected that to happen. The hundreds who have died in the recent tornadoes that swept through the South didn't plan on that happening. Each person who died in these tragedies left behind family and friends who will now have to grieve. And that's what it all really comes down to. Whether it's the loss of a friend or family member, or the loss of a long held dream, or the loss of personal wealth or health, all of it is loss and inspires varying degrees of grief. How we deal with that grief is what defines us. 

I have learned to just let go of preconceived notions of what should or shouldn't happen. I have learned to change what I can and accept what I can't. In short, I have learned to "let go, and let God." I don't always understand why things happen, but I've learned to trust that there's a reason. Being angry helps no one, especially me. Being angry makes us miserable and just makes it harder on those around us. I sincerely believe that the greatest failing of most parents is that they do not teach their children to have an attitude of thankfulness. As Christians, we are supposed to be thankful even in the midst of trials, to be content with what we have instead of always wanting more and more. As a point of fact, I wish everyone knew God and trusted Him. But even those who choose not to do so would do well to learn to appreciate the blessings of what they have instead of being angry about what they don't. It's not that hard to do. Just open your eyes and take a look around you. You will see someone worse off than you. There is always someone who has it harder. I have lost many of my family members, but at least I had loving family. Some kids grow up without ever knowing what it means to be loved and cared for. I have cancer, but my prognosis is good while there are others out there who are told at their diagnosis that they're unlikely to survive. The side effects of cancer treatment aren't easy, but others reacted much worse than I did. I am just stunned by how many people out there can overlook the fact that however bad their situation, it could ALWAYS be worse!

I have encountered people who were bitter about how their life was going. Bitter and angry that they have an illness like cancer. Bitter and full of rage that someone they cared about died. Mad at God and the entire world because their life didn't turn out precisely the way they thought it should have. My response? GROW UP! Life isn't fair. It isn't a fairy tale. It isn't a bed of roses. Pick whatever metaphor you like. The basic truth is that we just don't always get what we want. Sometimes life can be full of grief and pain and tragedy. Sometimes it seems like we barely overcome one tragedy only to be slapped in the face by a new one. We have the choice to either rise above it or wallow in the grief and anger. The easiest way to do this is to stop feeling so sorry for yourself and recognize that it just is what it is and the only thing to do is keep moving forward. Even more importantly, we need to keep in mind that there is a reason for everything. Considering some of the absolutely horrific things I see on the news every single day, I do wonder what good could possibly come from some of it. The terrible things people do to each other every day are just awful. How could any good come of the unspeakable atrocities that are perpetrated on helpless children? Or the crimes and abuses committed against adults for that matter? How can we find any hint of good or benefit in an ill child or loved one? The answer is always the same. WE CAN'T!!!! Only God knows the ultimate outcome. Only He knows where our journey will take us. Only He can see every single aspect of every moment in time. When we try to understand things with our limited hearts and minds we will fail every single time. Because our human nature gets in the way. We start demanding explanations and answers from the One who created us. We start trying to grasp the infinite with our profoundly finite minds and understanding. I'm not trying to make excuses or avoid the very real issue of doubts and fears. I have just learned through my own personal life that the only way I can face the uncertainty and grief and fear in the world is to trust that God is always and forever in complete control. Whether I understand it all or not, He has a plan. He is at work in every moment of my life. The things that I think I cannot endure are tolerable because He makes it so.

The key to dealing with the unexpected changes to our plans and dreams and desires is to simply trust God to always work things out for the best for us. As Garth Brooks said years ago, "sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers." Though I don't actually believe any prayer is unanswered. Sometimes the answer is just "no." Looking back I can certainly think of seasons in my life when I was utterly convinced that I knew what was best for me, that I simply could not endure to go forward if I didn't get whatever it was I thought I wanted or needed. Like the song, I too had an early love that I thought I couldn't live without. Yet here I am, two and a half decades later with the man God knew I would one day meet and love. And I am profoundly grateful that when I was begging God to keep me and my first boyfriend together that He, in His wisdom, said, "No." Wow, am I grateful for that!! I now cannot imagine my life without my precious husband in it. He is my heart, my best friend and companion. His mere presence lifts my heart. God knew what was right for me. He knew the plans He had for me and for Mark and even though I couldn't see it then, He knew that the grief of that moment would be utterly overwhelmed with the joy of being joined to the "right" man in the future. And this is what life is all about for me. Even though I don't understand it, even though some of the things I see or endure break my heart, I know that somehow, some way, some day there will be good that comes from it. Maybe I won't even see it. Maybe it will be a change in someone else's life that I won't even know about until I learn of it in heaven. I can't know everything now. I can't see everything. But God can. And trusting Him is the only way to live. It's the only way to find peace in a world that seems increasingly ugly and harsh.

Thank you, God, for saying no. Thank You for giving me what I need instead of what I want. And thank You for loving me even when I questioned You.

 

GOOD News/BAD News/NO News

GOOD News:

I got the results from my BRAC Analysis (which is actually a test of the BRCA 1 and BRCA 2 genes) and they were negative. Specifically, no mutation was found. This is very GOOD news! It means that there is no abnormalities in either of the genes that have so far specifically been linked to breast cancer. 

BAD News:

I got up with a sore throat this morning. More than sore, it's raw. I blame Mark. He was sick earlier in the week with exactly the same symptoms. My nose isn't stopped up or runny, but I've got snot running down the back of my throat, making it really sore. Not fun. Hopefully it won't last more than a couple of days. I waited until I got back home from Madison to take something for it because I was already tired when I left and I didn't want to make myself even more sleepy. I even stopped at the Java Bean to pick up some coffee, both for the caffeine and the warmth. (I could have made some here before I left but I just didn't think about it until I was already heading toward town.) Bill remembered me from the last time I was in and asked how things were going. I told him that I was finished with the chemo and radiation and he and Jay both congratulated me on it. Then Bill gave me a very yummy coconut confection on my way out the door in celebration. They're such sweet guys. If you're ever in the Vevay, Indiana area you really should stop in and have some lunch or dinner, or just try some of their fantastic confections. They're all heavenly!

NO News:

I still have another genetic test pending. It's called BART (BRAC Analysis Rearrangement Test). It's a test that looks at a broader section of the genes to see if there are any more rare mutations. For someone my age, my doctor says they like to test for everything they possibly can. So I'm still waiting to hear about this test's results. Hopefully they'll be in soon.

Now I want to touch on something I've talked about before, but I just have to mention one more time. GOD IS AMAZING!!!! I woke up this morning, feeling sick and tired and still a bit anxious about what I'd hear when I got to the doctor's office. I get several devotions and Bible verses sent to me through various avenues, Facebook, Email, Blogs, etc. I was sitting on the side of the bed and grabbed up my iPad to check my email. (It has a handy little envelope icon that lets me know whenever I have new mail.) I had 3 new messages. Two were random stuff and one was a daily email I get from James Ryle at Truthworks. In all honesty, I get so many devotions each day that I rarely get the chance to read them all. I save them to look back on later, but I don't always read them. The emails I get from James (he calls his devotions Rylisms) always start the same way. He bases each of them on a verse or verses and those verses are the first thing he writes. They're often the only thing I can actually see on the email. I have to click a link to go to his site and get the entire devotion. This was precisely what I saw when I glanced at today's Rylism in my inbox:

The Untouchables

“You shall not be afraid of the terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day, nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness, nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday. A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; but it shall not come near...

 This is Psalms 91:5-7, minus the word "you" at the end. On his site James includes verse 8, but it was these words above that I saw and that felt like the voice of God speaking directly to my heart. I was not so much afraid as anxious, but the result is the same. It robs me of the peace that only comes from fully trusting in God. We SHALL NOT BE AFRAID of anything the world or the devil may throw at us because God is with us, He is our protector, our loving Father, our Sword and Shield against whatever comes our way. Praise the Lord for His love and care!

I didn't even read the devotion. I just saw this scripture and felt the touch of God. I got up and dressed and left just a few minutes later. And out in the car, when I plugged my iPod into my radio and selected a playlist titled "Favorite Christian" this is what I heard:

Either Way (I Win)
written by Frank Arnold, from the album "Faithful" by The Arnolds

Lord, I've fought this battle for so long, and while I've grown weary, I've tried to stay strong
Though the battle rages, when it's all said and done, I'll be undefeated 'cause I've already won

Either way, I win, if You should call me home today, or on this earth You let me stay
For when my life comes to an end, it's only then that it really begins, either way, I win

Lord, You hold my next breath in the palm of Your hand, it's Yours to release or withhold if You should plan
It's kind of hard to feel sad if I think of it that way, so it's all up to You, Lord, do I go, or do I stay?

Either way, I win, if You should call me home today, or on this earth You let me stay
For when my life comes to an end, it's only then that it really begins, either way, I win

Heaven or earth, torn between the two, I love my precious family, but Lord, I love You too, oh yes I do

Either way, I win, if You should call me home today, or on this earth You let me stay
For when my life comes to an end, it's only then that it really begins, either way, I win, either way, I win

Here's a video version of the song I spent way too much time working on. LOL

There were other songs with a similar thing that came after this one. God has done this before for me. He uses music all the time to catch my attention and speak to me. The verse from Psalms above and this song being the first that came on when my iPod is set to play the songs in random order is the hand of God. Call me foolish if you like. Tell me it's merely a coincidence. But I know my Lord is there and that He loves me and cares for me and speaks to me a thousand times a day in a thousand different ways.

If you're facing cancer or any other seemingly insurmountable foe, just remember that God is ALWAYS in control. And even if you lose this fight, you have already won the battle if you just trust in Him. Jesus won the war a long time ago on Calvary. Praise God!

Patience...

I am not a particularly patient person. (And before anyone suggests it, I am far too smart to actually ask the Lord to help me learn to be patient. Not gonna fall for THAT one! LOL) Having cancer pretty much forces a person to at least learn to accept that patience is indeed a virtue, whether you have it or not. The various treatments and tests and countless doctor's appointments leave a person with no choice but to spend a lot of time just sitting around, waiting. Chemo can take hours to get, all while sitting in a chair in a room with others who are in the exact same boat as you are. If you're at one of the larger treatment centers, this usually at least means that you have room for a companion to keep you company and a personal television to watch if that's your choice. I went to the closest treatment center I could find, which meant we were all in a tiny little room that barely had space enough for 3 treatment chairs and a medicine cabinet. I'm not exaggerating here. It's an incredibly small space. There is one television in the room that is on or off according to the whim of whoever gets there first. Which means you watch whatever they're watching, too. I saw several episodes of Bonanza, along with a few days of the new "Let's Make a Deal," "The Price is Right," and an assortment of soap operas.

Mostly I just hooked my iPad up to my headphones and listened to internet radio to drown out the TV. I'm not much of a fan of daytime television.

On a quick side note, KDH is building a new hospital up on top of the hill in Madison and the Cancer Treatment Center will be getting a new facility as well. Hopefully one that will give the nurses more room to work and the patients more room to relax during treatment. I certainly don't want to give the impression that I am anything but grateful for all those who took care of me during my treatment. As small as the KDH treatment center is, everyone there is beyond kind and caring. And while the size of the current center does make it difficult if you're hoping to have a friend or loved one present with you during treatment, that's hardly a reason to refuse to go there. Hopefully the new center will make it easier for everyone; nurses, patients, and the doctor as well. It's all due to be completed in approximately a year.

So, while I am not an inherently patient person, I have learned to tolerate the waiting. I have to say that having my iPad helped tremendously. It made it possible for me to listen to music, read, play cards, do crosswords, and countless other things while I was sitting there. Not to mention that I also use it to keep track of all my medical info. It's one piece of technology that has made my life easier and more convenient. Love the thing!

I've said all this to get to the point that despite almost a year of having to wait for one thing or another, I'm still not a patient person. I get antsy when I have to wait for something. Well, I get antsy when waiting for test results. I've done plenty of this already. From the day my OB/GYN first found the lump right on up until now, waiting to get some test and then waiting to get the results has been an ongoing theme. I don't really worry about what will be found. There's no point in that. From day one I've trusted that whatever came, God would get me through it. (And He certainly has!) But I'm a person who hates not KNOWING what I'm facing. It isn't that I think having knowledge will somehow change things, I just like being informed. I like knowing what's coming, good or bad. I am certainly not one of those people who would be comfortable burying my head in the sand and hoping for the best. I don't care if I'm facing a nightmare so long as I can go into it knowing what's ahead. This is why I researched every aspect of my cancer until I was going cross-eyed from reading. It's why I studied and read up on what the worst case scenario might be even before getting an official cancer diagnosis and stage. Having the info doesn't change what's coming, but it makes it easier for me to face it, I guess.

It has occurred to me that this could be part of the lesson I should be learning from this whole experience. Facing something WITHOUT knowing what to expect might just be the whole point. I'm sure God wants me to learn to trust Him fully, to rest in Him and not be so anxious even when I don't have a clue as to what I might be facing down the road. I'm trying to do that, Lord, I promise.

Okay, back to the issue that has me thinking about this in the first place. I had genetic testing done last week to see if I carry the currently recognized genes that are tied to breast cancer. It must be stated that geneticists believe that the handful of genes that are currently recognized are merely the tip of the iceberg, meaning that eventually there will be many, many more that will be found. So even if someone tests negative with the current BRAC Analysis, that doesn't mean they don't have some kind of genetic anomaly. It just means that if you're positive, then you have some serious thinking to do. I got the call yesterday afternoon that the results of my test are in. We weren't here at the time and by the time we got home, they were gone for the day, so I had to call the office first thing this morning. My radiation oncologist - Dr. Eileen McGarvey, whom I really like - prefers to sit down face to face to discuss the results. On the one hand, this is what I love about her. She's my kind of doctor, meaning she gives a lot of information about whatever it is she's explaining to you. My surgeon - Dr. Amy Gefaldi - is the same way. Love them both! On the other hand, this means I have to wait until tomorrow to see her and get the results of the test. And so, here I am, feeling antsy and hyper and just wishing I knew what they'd found so I could know if I'm going to be facing more testing and/or possibly surgeries, or if I will just be doing the regular routine of preventative healthcare in the future. The anxiousness won't change a thing, but I can't seem to help feeling it. Here's what I'm looking at:

If the test is positive, then I have to sit down and consider how I want to handle it. Being positive means I would be at a higher risk for not only another breast cancer, but ovarian cancer as well. That can be handled a number of ways. I could get more frequent testing, which would include regular monthly breast self exams and a breast exam performed by my doctor twice a year. The heightened risk of ovarian cancer would mean having ovarian ultrasounds twice a year. Of course these tests would be in addition to standards like a yearly pap smear and mammogram. These are what would be considered the most conservative options. From them we swing to the other side of the pendulum where we find more radical options. I could have a bilateral mastectomy, which would obviously reduce the chances of another breast cancer. Besides this surgery, I would have to decide on what kind of reconstruction I would want. More surgeries. And then there is the option to remove my ovaries, which would significantly reduce my chances of developing ovarian cancer. Significant meaning 75% to 90% less chance of getting it. Of course that means entering menopause for good, which would come with some issues of its own.

If the test comes up negative, that unfortunately doesn't mean I'm necessarily off the hook. As I said, the genes that are tested for are just the ones which have been definitively connected to breast cancer. I could be negative for them and positive for one that hasn't been mapped yet. Then again, the fact is that any one of us could be a cancer time bomb just waiting to go off. I've had it once, which means I'm more likely to get it again, but that's not such a big deal when you consider that everyone is cancer free until they aren't any more. Basically, cancer is like any other illness or accident or tragedy that might come upon anyone at any time with no warning at all. We can't lock ourselves in our houses and hide. We have to just live our lives and take on the challenges when they come our way.

It would probably make things easier if I wasn't always feeling so impatient. I see the doctor tomorrow morning to find out my test results. Between now and then I'm going to do my best to not stew on it. Like I said, it's not that I'm worried about what I'll hear. Either way, it's out of my control. But I hate the waiting. I want to get on with whatever will be coming next. [sigh] While I won't pray for patience, I will (and do) pray for peace and strength to not give in to my flawed nature. I'll be back tomorrow to let everyone know what the results are and what the next steps will be. Until then, keep on trusting God. I know I will!

NO MORE RADIATION!!!!

 It's finally over! I got my LAST radiation treatment today. I even got a Certificate of Completion, LOL. Coincidentally, the other side of the office, the medical oncology office was having an open house to celebrate the completion of the remodeling on their office. They had balloons, punch and cookies. So I got my last treatment, then picked up some punch and cookies on the way out the door. Mark and I are going to go out to celebrate on his next day off.

My radiation burns are slightly worse, now, but should be improved within a few days. There's a large burn beneath my arm and the area in the crease beneath my breast is raw. It's uncomfortable, but if you saw the photos from my last post you know that it could always be worse. I keep it covered with ointment and that helps.

I had the genetic test done last Wednesday and should get the results some time in the next couple of weeks. If it's positive then I'll have some decisions to make, but I'm not going to think about that until it comes. I got my herceptin yesterday (Thursday) so that means I don't have anything medical to do until May 3! I go then to get another MUGA (heart) scan. If my heart function has dropped again, we may suspend the herceptin treatments for a while or even stop them completely. Like the genetic test, I'm not going to worry about it until I have to. I'm just planning to enjoy the time off. The past seven weeks have been hectic and I'm very glad they're over.

On a completely different note, we're in the market for a new microwave since ours suddenly gave up the ghost a couple of days ago. Right out of the blue it just stopped working. No warning. The lights and vent and everything still function just fine, but the magnetron has apparently gone out because it no longer actually heats food. It's not like I actually do a lot of cooking with the microwave. I cook rice in it and Mark heats up canned pasta in it when he's in a hurry to eat. I'm perfectly capable of cooking everything on the stove, but now we HAVE to cook everything on the stove. We've turned it into a running joke that we're having to do everything the "old" way. I actually had to put a frozen package of hot dogs into a bowl of water yesterday so Mark could grill them out! Oh, the horror! LOL I think I miss the defrost capabilities of the thing most of all. So it looks like we'll be having a combo End of Radiation Celebration and microwave shopping session all at the same time.

I'm planning to rest for the next few days, though, and just enjoy not having to get up every morning to head to Madison to get my boob microwaved.

Final Regular Radiation Treatment

I got my final regular radiation treatment today. Yippee! I have 7 more treatments to go, called "boost" treatments. These treatments are targeted so that they only hit the area right where the tumor was. I was very happy to get to the end of these treatments because I've started having skin reactions to the radiation. I've got a raw area in my armpit and a very itchy (and sore) area in the fold beneath my breast. I've also got a new spot that's irritated and itchy because they put a sticker on me the day before yesterday in an effort to keep some new marks they'd made from fading. I have several tattoos already and they were trying to keep from having to give me any more. On Monday I went in and they ran me through an extensive setup process to get me ready for these boost treatments. This involved several x-rays and a bunch of new paint pen marks. Unfortunately, the paint pen wears off really quickly on me. So the techs decided to put some little clear stickers over the marks to protect them. Unfortunately, the stickers only irritated my skin more. They took them off yesterday and sadly, removed a layer of skin with them because my skin was already irritated from the radiation treatment.

Now that the regular radiation treatments are done, the area under my breast and my armpit are no longer within the treatment area. This means they can finally start healing. The doctor told me yesterday that it won't take long for them to improve, a week or so. I thought I'd have to get more tattoos, but the techs used the ones I already have and measured to the new marks so that I wouldn't have to worry about trying to keep the marks from wearing off.

On a cheerful side note, I think my eyebrows are finally starting to grow back. My eyelashes can't be far behind!

I know this is short, but I'm feeling flat worn out and I think I need to go take a nap.

A Closer Look at Radiation Treatments...

Five weeks of radiation down, and two more to go. I go in later than usual on Monday so they can do some additional setup for the final seven treatments, called "boost" treatments. So far, the radiation has targeted the entire breast. At this point there is actually a visible square from the middle of my chest to my armpit where the skin is darker and mildly irritated. It hasn't been overly uncomfortable, though on Friday the area in my armpit started being very irritated and tender. It's a bad location and one they warned me would likely be an issue. It's been really sore since I got up Friday and I guess it won't get any better until at least the end of the regular treatments. The "boost" treatments are more precisely targeted at the area where the tumor was located, so presumably it will miss my armpit.

So, I've decided to post some pics of the radiation machine and of the effects it can have on the skin. Some of these are a little graphic, but they're the reality of getting radiation therapy for breast cancer. (And other kinds of cancer as well.) We'll start with a few shots of the machine itself and the setup used for breast cancer patients.

This is the linear accelerator used for treatment. It rotates all the way around the treatment table so that it can precisely target the desired area of the body.

This shot shows the arm rests that arc over the top of the table. In my therapy we use both of them, so that both of my arms are lifted over my head. You can also see the lasers (which come from both sides and the ceiling) that are used to line up the machine.

The tattoos I mentioned in an earlier post are used to line up with these lasers. The bed moves in all directions, including the head of the bed (waist up) being able to pivot side to side so that they can make sure the lasers are lined up exactly.

This drawing shows how the beams are aimed from two directions so that the entire breast area is treated.

Okay, now come the more disturbing images. There are a few of them that show the damage that can be done by the treatments. If you're squeamish, you might want to skip over them.

This is very extensive skin damage. Generally, it isn't this bad. I'm nowhere near this irritated. But potential patients ought to know this kind of reaction is possible.

The quality of this image isn't great, but you can clearly see the outline of the treatment area. This is more what I look like right now. It's red and irritated, feeling a lot like a sunburn.

Blisters and irritation in the crease beneath the breast are also very common. I am having more trouble with my armpit at this point, though this area on me is tender.

These shots indicate the skin changes in a woman at the end of her radiation treatment and the same woman a month after the completion of her treatment. So you can see that the skin damage is a temporary issue.

Here is a list of several websites that deal with the side effects of radiation treatment, as well as offering some ideas for treating the side effects.

Radiation and the Skin
Be a Survivor
American Cancer Society: Radiation Therapy Effects
National Cancer Institute: Radiation Therapy and You

I know the idea of going into radiation therapy can be daunting. But it isn't as bad as it seems. And while some of the above images are scary, the truth is that most of us won't have severe reactions. Like the Chemo, the side effects vary tremendously from one patient to the next. I'm the kind of person who wants to know what the worst case scenario could be so that I don't have to worry about being caught off guard by it if it should happen. Through all my treatment, though, I can honestly say that I have had nothing near the worst of the side effects I have heard others talk about. I won't pretend that chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy is easy. Neither of them is. But it isn't the end of the world. They are temporary. A mere blip in the course of an entire lifetime. If you are facing cancer treatment, don't let it scare you. Inform yourself with every scrap of information you can get your hands on. Research, research, research! That way you won't have to be afraid of it. And trust that God is in control. If you are His child, you have nothing to fear at all because you can rest assured that He will carry you when you cannot carry yourself.

Exhaustion...

Wow, I didn't know I could feel this tired. I swear it wasn't this bad during the chemo. Or maybe it was and I've just forgotten. You know, Chemo Brain and all. Then again, I guess it's possible, and probably more likely, that I'm just feeling the cumulative effects of the chemo and the radiation. Whatever the cause, I am flat out worn out ALL the time. Let me give you an example.

I went Wednesday to get my herceptin before my radiation. I also saw the oncologist before the herceptin. I was tired when I got there, but by the time it was all over and we got home, I was feeling dead on my feet. So I laid down and I didn't get up until the following day. I think it wound up being something like fourteen hours. Mark kept coming in to check on me, but all I wanted was to sleep. I didn't get up to eat or anything else other than a trip or two to the bathroom.

So, you'd think that all that sleep would leave me feeling fresh as a daisy, or at the very least feeling anything but tired. It didn't, however. Last night I expected to feel good enough to get some stuff done, like loading the dishwasher, maybe folding a few clothes, little things like that. Instead I found myself heading to bed around nine, I think it was. I didn't actually sleep much, but I just couldn't find the energy to get back up. I did manage to drag myself into the kitchen this morning to finally load the dishwasher and I fixed a quick breakfast for Mark and myself. By the time I'd finished my toast, though, I was ready to fall over. I left Mark watching TV and went back to bed. He joined me sometime later, though I don't remember it. He reads his Bible before going to sleep and I usually notice him turn on his light, but not today.

I was back up by ten and out of bed by ten-thirty so I could be ready to leave by eleven and in Madison for more radiation at eleven-thirty. Right now I'm seriously contemplating taking a nap.

My breast doesn't look much different after another week of treatments, but it feels different. I notice my clothes irritating it some, like the skin is slightly sunburned and anything even remotely rough hurts a little. And I'm starting to have trouble laying on that side because putting pressure on it hurts a little. And I still have fifteen treatments to go. Three more weeks. I go Monday to get a CT for them to map out precisely how they're going to do the final seven "boost" treatments.

I also got the results of my last MUGA scan from the oncologist when I saw him on Wednesday. The first one I had done before any of the chemo was a baseline scan and my heart was functioning at 61%, which sounds kinda off to me, but is actually above normal. (Anything over .5, or 50% is considered normal.) The second scan I had done three months later, after starting chemo, the function had dropped to 59%, still no cause for concern. This time it was down to 55% and he's starting to worry just a little. Well, worry is probably too strong a word. He wants to keep a close eye on it. He says we're going to do the next scan early, in just 2 months. If it's dropped again, then we'll decide what to do next. He said we might try stopping the herceptin for a while, then do another scan to see if the function improves. If it does, we'll start the herceptin back up. Or maybe we'll just drop it altogether. Either way, it's something we have to keep an eye on.

It kinda worried Mark, I know. He's taken to double checking that I'm not having any chest pains or anything, which I'm not. He's also posited the theory that my decreasing heart function might be adding to my fatigue, which makes sense to me, but we haven't run it past any of the doctors, yet.

I've also had a persistent cough for a while now, and that isn't helping me feel any better. I think it's due to my allergies. Though it's turned back off cold now, it was so warm there for several days that we were opening the windows and even sleeping with the bedroom window open a few nights. I was coughing before all this, but it seemed to get worse during the warm spell. I told the radiologist on Wednesday that I've been noticing increased allergy symptoms for a while now. They seem to be getting worse with each passing season. For a while there I wasn't having any issues at all. I'm thinking now, though, that I might wind up having to go back on the allergy injections. It's just one more thing to work out, though I'm waiting until the radiation is over because it's just too difficult to go to Madison in the morning, then turn around and head off to Florence on the same day. Frankly, I'm too tired to even think about it. I had to cancel my six month appointment with my allergist because of the radiation. I haven't rescheduled it, yet, but I need to.

Gosh, it seems like I am constantly making notes to myself these days about things I need to remember to do! At least I did manage to get our tax stuff to the accountant last week. Now, If I can just get through the next three weeks without falling flat on my face from fatigue, I'll be good!

The tech did tell me to expect it to take a couple of months after I finish the radiation before I started feeling more normal. Still, I'm looking forward to the end of this next three weeks because at least then I can start getting better each day instead of feeling worse. And I'm really, really hoping that it all winds up before I break out with blisters from the radiation. Just three more weeks. I can't wait.

On a side note, I've been so happy to see the first blooms of spring. We've got bunches of daffodils (Buttercups to us Southerners) blooming all over the place around here. I really wish I could get out there and cut some to put in a vase, but as much as I'd like to, I just can't seem to drag myself down the driveway to do it. For some inexplicable reason, my forsythia has chosen not to bloom this year. Well, it has one lonely little yellow flower, but that's it. I do have some hyacinths blooming, though. And everyone else's forsythias are blooming like mad, along with the Jane magnolias and Bradford pears. Mark bought a bunch of bulbs the other day at the store, though we haven't gotten them planted, yet. He really likes dahlias. I like anything that blooms. It's really going to drive me nuts if I'm too fatigued this year to get out there and take pictures of all the flowers! Just in case, here are just a couple of my favorite shots from previous springs.

 A lovely, bright yellow buttercup!

 It's kinda hard to see here, but I love the way the petals of this narcissus are actually iridescent.

 

My forsythia when it actually does bloom for me.

 I have always loved hyacinths. My mother grew them at the corner of our house and to this day, their sweet smell reminds me of her.

 A curved row of buttercups that sits behind one of the beehives.

This is one of my favorite shots. I was aiming at the narcissus in the center of the shot, but realized later that it looks like my little cow is sniffing one of the others. Mark's parents gave me the cow one year for Christmas. I kept it in the house for years, not wanting to see it get worn by the elements. 

I'm pushing spring a little this year, tired of the gray of winter, I guess. I use shots like these, and countless others to brighten up my computer. They're my wallpaper on my home screen and they rotate every few hours so I don't get tired of looking at the same one all the time. They're on my iPad, too. And my cell phone, come to think of it. Makes me smile every time I see the lovely colors and flowers. It also reminds me of just how awesome God is. He didn't have to make flowers. I suppose He made them for His own enjoyment, but I also suppose He knew we'd love them, too. No matter how tired I feel, seeing the flowers always makes me smile and perks me up just a bit. Isn't He great!

They're talking actual accumulating snow on Sunday! Yikes!

Signs of Radiation Exposure...

Well, I'm into my third week of radiation treatments. As I was laying there today listening to the machine buzzing while it zapped me, I couldn't help thinking about Japan and it's nuclear situation. If the worst were to happen (and I know we are all praying that it WON'T!) the kind of radiation that would be spewed into the atmosphere is actually the same thing that has been used to treat cancer, though not in my case. I find that fact amazing. Like chemotherapy, radiation treatment is so counter intuitive. The very form of radiation, cesium-137 that is released during a nuclear meltdown, the thing that has contaminated everything surrounding Chernobyl and that led to who knows how many deaths and illnesses after that catastrophe, is deliberately aimed at cancer patients in an effort to rid them of the mutated cells that could kill them. Yet exposure to cesium-137 causes cancer. Does anyone else have trouble wrapping their brain around the logic? LOL

Anyway, on Mondays they take a couple of x-rays along with my treatment to make sure their targeting is still good. Conveniently, the same machine that treats me takes the x-rays. Isn't that handy?! I also had my third MUGA scan yesterday. That's where they inject me with even more radiation, wait half an hour, then put me in yet another machine that takes a series of images of my heart. I'll have one of these done every three months or so to make sure the Herceptin I get every three weeks isn't damaging my heart. I haven't gotten the results of this test, yet. I don't know if they'll call me or just wait for me to see the doctor next week.

On Tuesdays, I see my radiation oncologist after my treatments. Our first two visits during my first two weeks were only a couple of minutes long. She's an awesome doctor, and I love how thorough she is. During my first two weeks she just wanted to make sure I didn't have any other questions or concerns. I didn't. I did have something to discuss with her today, though.

I actually noticed last week sometime that there were some differences in my breast, mostly in the coloring. On Sunday I noticed that there was a red area on my chest in the upper left quadrant of my right breast. Meaning I had a red spot just to the right of the center of my chest. The skin on my right breast looked a little red, too. Then it seemed to look normal later so I decided that maybe I had just squished it while sleeping. LOL I didn't bring it up when I got my treatment yesterday because I knew I'd be seeing the doctor today. Plus, I knew it was just the beginning of my body reacting to the treatments. Anyway, I showed it to her today and she agreed that it was the start. She sent me home with some tubes of an ointment to use on the red spots. I'll just use more of it when more areas get red. She told me the redness on my chest is typical and that a lot of women get a rash there.

So I'm starting to react to the treatments. I was really hoping it wouldn't start until the fourth week so that it would be less likely to have time to get particularly uncomfortable. Right now it doesn't really hurt, though my chest does itch a little sometimes, which is how I noticed it in the first place over the weekend. Amusingly, my boob feels kinda hot sometimes, especially after treatment. This is such a strange thing. It's really weird to have one breast feel like it's running a fever while everything else feels normal. Like I said, it isn't painful, yet, so that's a huge plus.

I don't know if I mentioned this before, but along with the skin reaction/rash and the fatigue that comes with radiation treatment, there is also a list of things NOT to do. One is not to use any lotion or perfume on the area being treated. That's not so difficult. But I also can't use deodorant under the arm on the side of the breast being treated. This is just annoying! To be precise, I am allowed to use unscented aerosol spray, which isn't actually a deodorant, but an antiperspirant. On the day I went looking for it, which I was advised could be found at a pharmacy, Mark and I were at Wal-Mart and I decided to look there. No such luck in the women's section. But Mark found a can in the men's. So I now hose my right armpit down with men's aerosol antiperspirant every day. It's a sport formula. Yeah, like I need that. I contemplated looking for something made for a woman, but I was too tired that day to bother going anywhere else once Mark found this one. So it's what I'm using. I don't like it. I miss my Secret! (Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman!) LOL I am grateful, however, that this isn't all taking place in the height of summer. It should all be over and I should be free to return to my regular stuff long before that sets in. Thank You, Lord!

There are just so many things that go along with this whole journey. Like the chemo and radiation, some of them are too insane to even bother trying to make too much sense of. Oh, I understand how the chemo and radiation work. I did plenty of research into both of them. When you get right down to it, they do make sense. But there's still something way beyond ironic about pumping yourself full of poison and bombarding yourself with radiation in an effort to kill off mutant cells that can, in turn, be triggered by the very things you're trying to kill them with. And then there's the joy of being bald. Honestly, I didn't mind the baldness near as much as this process of watching my hair grow back. It's just ugly right now. It points in all kinds of crazy directions. The short stuff over my ears never wants to just lay down, it prefers to poke out over the tops of my ears, making me look like some little old man with ear "tufts." And I swear I have even fewer eyelashes and eye brows now than I did when I finished chemo! Let's not even talk about the other places where I don't have any hair. Yet, somehow, there is still hair growing on the fronts of my legs. What is THAT all about?!

The list of absurdities associated with cancer treatment just goes on and on. I choose to laugh at pretty much all of it. What's the point in being upset? It won't change a thing, except to make me and anyone around me miserable. I've seen cancer patients who were very bitter and angry. I don't understand the point of that. It sure doesn't help them any. Besides which, I know God's ultimately in control of it all. It'll work out however He thinks best. Whatever comes, I'll go along with that knowledge and cross each new bridge when I come to it, all the while knowing He's right there with me each and every step of the way.

I just thought of something. You know how they refer to radioactive items as being "hot?" Well I've got a hot boob! Maybe it's radioactive! (I'm tired. You'll have to overlook the goofiness of my sense of humor. Mark sometimes just smiles and nods his head and I know he isn't laughing with me at those times!)

Okay, I'm done, at least for now. I'm off to the kitchen to find something to snack on. Though I doubt anyone needs a reminder, please keep the people of Japan in your prayers. I cannot even imagine the scope of the devastation they are facing right now. And the nuclear situation on top of what's already happened isn't making it any easier for them. And pray for all those who are there to help search for survivors and victims, too. They've come from all over the world to help and what they're doing is no easy task. Then hug your spouses and kids and any other family and friends you can get your hands on and take a minute to thank God for all the blessings in your life. You know there are lots of them that we all take for granted every day.