Thursday, September 30, 2010

Pre-op with Dr. Havard - The Plastic Surgeon

Wednesday, September 29, 2010
So, today was my last day of doctor visits before surgery. A relief and also my anxiety.  That means it is really happening, I am going through with it, no turning back now – well I could if I wanted to, but really, why would I?
I have decided that I absolutely love Dr. Havard and his awesome staff. Anca, his assistant is absolutely adorable, pleasant, nice, really nice, and easy to talk to. She made it easy to just talk and ask my dumb list of questions.
1.      So how much can I ‘really’ move my arms?
2.      How long til I can drive?
3.      Do I have to buy some stupid special bra that costs me an arm and a leg?
4.      Surgery is how long?
5.      Can I be home alone the first night? What am I going to need, except sleep?
6.      What about softball, how long will I be out?
7.      Let’s talk about the pain again?
8.      Can I get out of the hospital the next day? I really want out of the hospital the next day. What do I have to do to get out of the hospital the next day?
9.      So, while I am out, can you just throw in an eyelid lift so I look ten years younger? He didn’t see a need.
10.  Will there be a computer available so I can update my blog and let everyone know things went well? Hmmmm…. “Possibly,” she says…… YEAH for me!

My biggest question was still all bottled up and not sure I want to share it here either, so I will think on it some more as I share other stuff. I eventually asked, she laughed at me hysterically, for a few minutes… ha.

Now, mind you, this is it, this is the last meeting before we start cutting so all of my insecurities, fears, and questions need to come out. I learned some other very interesting things.
1.      My surgery is scheduled at 7:30am and they have two and a half hours on the books for it. That isn’t long at all and amazing they can do it in that time.
2.      They will cut my peck muscle (from underneath my armpit, inside not out), insert the saline expanders (boobs) and then fill them to as much as they can without popping the stitches – that could hurt. So my boobs will be from 50cc’s to maybe even 200, now that would be great.
3.      I will have a drain tube on either side of me, along with a pain machine that has five days worth of pain meds that will continually pump so I will be relieved of pain without the grogginess and constipation of pain pills. I need to still eat fiber to help and thanks to my wonderful co-workers, I am pretty sure I got that covered.
4.      I will be bandaged up and won’t get those off until the drain tubes come out so about 7-10 days, no showers for me – YUCK! Apparently they don’t know me very well and how I take at least two showers a day and I CANNOT even go without a shower when I am camping – thus the reason for a shower tent! I know make fun, but I am cleaner than you are…..
5.      And then in three weeks after I will get my first 50cc’s injected into the temporaries. Apparently there is something medal and the needle finds in underneath my skin and that is how she knows to start pumping it in. Right through my chest. It is absolutely amazing! I won’t feel anything, at least I better not, for there might be a ton of screaming if I do. I will see.  And then I can go back to “normal” activity in six weeks. You know he should really get to know me better because normal for me and normal for most are just not the same. I asked about soccer and he just gave me a look. I think that means no….. but, what about?
6.      Then after they get to the size I want, then we talk permanents and I am shooting for January so I am ready by softball season. Dr. Havard doesn’t think it will happen with all the holidays in there, but he just doesn’t know me and when I get something in my head, it WILL happen and there is no stopping me. And when I get the permanents, for most people it is four weeks and then normal activity. For me, because I am a softball coach and player and those are “normal” activities, he is going to double it. Eight weeks, are you kidding me! Well, even more reason to get it done in January so I can start hitting and throwing. Oh, then he said, well we can wait until after softball season….. Again, he should REALLY get to know me better because if he did he would understand that I have MY softball season and I WILL be playing this next season – duh! I got another look, he tried to tell me January may not happen again, but I just said, “uh-huh, OK, sure.” I know better.

And that is that, nothing more to be done, but…………to wait – not my favorite part, though I will manage. Tomorrow night Jeremy comes home, can’t wait…… but I know I have to. All this waiting can really wear on a person. May I suggest a fast forward button be invented….. yesterday?
 

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Perspective

A Woman undergoing Cancer treatment,
Who was loosing the battle against her illness,
woke up one morning,
Looked in the mirror,
And noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
...Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.'
So she did And She Had A Wonderful Day.

The next day she woke up,
Looked in the mirror,
And saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
'H-M-M,' she said,'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.'
So she did And She Had A Grand Day.

The next day she woke up,
Looked in the mirror,
and noticed that she had only one hair on her head.
'Well,' she said,'today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail.'
So she did And She Had A Fun, Fun Day.

The next day she woke up,
Looked in the mirror,
 and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
'YEA!' she exclaimed,
'I don't have to fix my hair today!'

Attitude is everything.

Be kinder than necessary,
For everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Live simply,Love generously,Care deeply,Speak kindly.......Leave the rest to God"

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Blood Work

Alright, we are one week until my big surgery! Excitement, nervousness, tons of anxiety. I have all of my pre-op stuff to do, register, give blood, meet with doctors; the usual. Today I went up to the hospital to give my blood and it another interesting moment with this issue.
I go to the register, tell them my name, she looks for my order, and can’t find it of course. She asks me over and over if I really am supposed to do this, am I sure I am in the right place, on and on.
“I can call my doctor’s office if you want me to?” I ask. She says no and finally picks up the phone to call the lab. Amazing how making some effort  gets you to a better place. They have my order. WOW!
We move to the insurance part, this is my favorite part. She only has my husbands. I have been going to Samaritan this entire time and everyone else has both insurances, why wouldn’t you? Everything is connected right? My MRI, admitting for surgery, the biopsy, all had both so why wouldn’t you? I gave it to her, she made a copy, took forever to enter in the information, and I could finally get to the lab. Apparently they don’t understand I have to get to work and need to save as much leave as possible – I am thinking I will carry a sign, yes? No?

So, get to the lab, get right in, blood pressure is up because I just want to get out and on with things, she pokes me and I am done. By this time my attitude stinks! I walk out and on my way out, he is sitting there, daughter in lap. He sure looks great after all he has been through, I can’t get over it. We smile at each and say hello with the ‘how are you’s,’ what are you doing here’s (Jeremy hadn’t told him yet), and he says I am in his prayers. They call his name to go back and give blood. “Bye, take care!”
 You see, he has his own battle with cancer – brain. He is much younger, has a great wife and children, and he is here for his routine blood work that he has a couple times a month. His life has been completely turned upside down, inside out, and chaotic. And here I am, feeling sorry for myself, in a hurry, getting angry and losing control, my issue is small in comparison…..
One would think I’d get it by now.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

The Card

Friday, September 24th, 2010

High School football games are tradition, family, friends, and of course, football. Jeremy and I decided to go to Philomath to watch them take on the Cheesemakers (what an interesting name, but that's another post).

I am a little apprehensive because I don't want anyone to feel "weird" around me, like I have some disease, or think it will catch if I stand too close. Or feel sorry for me. We are all dealt cards and mine just happened to be the dreaded breast cancer card - stupid. It was wonderful to see some of the players, get updates of things and laugh and laugh and laugh. They have a way of doing that, what a lucky person I am.

But you knew they all wanted to ask how I was, is it going to be ok, will you be back, and more stares. Were they surprised I was my same self, smiling, laughing, preaching, and more preaching. Was I supposed to change somehow and become something else? I didn't supercede either, just let them try and see if they could get the words out, they couldn't but one..... oh Brooke, how I appreciate your candor..... but it did take you awhile to get it out, I knew you would eventually, "Your thingy...." she says.

"No, Brooke, it isn't a thingy, but rather breast cancer. It's ok to say." You won't catch it, or hurt my feelings.

But earlier in the night, I get the most wonderful gift, nothing extravagant, spectacular, or expensive, but one of the best gifts - The Card. Now, this isn't just any old card, but one filled with a lot of love and compassion for their coach that made them do belly crawls in the mud, 1000 jumping jacks, over the line, CIRCUITS, and Cinco de Mayo celebrations - not things that are all loved equally, but a part of a really great season of growth. I was shocked, happy, and grateful that I was thought about. I never expected it. I couldn't read The Card right there,  I would have cried, not because I was sad, but because I was thought of. It can be an overwhelming feeling, to be cared about by others. Missy, Charisa, Stueve and Bri gave it to me, I hugged them.




You see as a coach you teach the game and pound those fundamentals into their heads and bodies until they perform to their highest possible level. You always get the, "But, I can't do it!"

We don't allow that word on our softball field but rather, "I can," and "I will." My objective is the game and what it takes to beat your opponent. My bigger objective is pushing your limits and building my players' character and inner strength.

There is character abound tonight on the Philomath track, football game in gear, cheering and laughing erupting everywhere. This is tradition, family and friends, and I have The Card.

"I CAN and I WILL!" are all I need to know.

The Date

Friday, September 24th 2010

And we have a date people, how exciting, scary, nerve wracking, no turning back, wait ...... a date - Tuesday, October 5th. Someone cancelled, Pam held it for me and asked, I made some calls, called her back and we will make it work. Jeremy is out of town that week, but I don't want to wait any longer and second guess my decision, so I will live with Jeremy being gone. The support system is so fantastic that I will be taken care of and if anything happens, he is only in Portland and can get here in an hour if need be.

YEAH a date, it is time to celebrate now! And get everything ready so I can be incapacitated for awhile.

The Advocate

Thursday, September 23rd, 2010

Advocates are wonderful. They are there to show you things that you might miss because all of this can be so overwhelming. Each of us should use them more in times of crisis so we don't re-create the wheel. There is something to be said of those that have gone before us.

We meet at 2:30 and just start from the beginning. She really cares about what I am going through and wants to listen, it isn't her job but her passion. There isn't really much more to tell than that of what I already knew. There are mentors they will set me up with, support groups to go to, and others who will help guide me. She gave me so much information and I am in the process of reading all of it, but it is alot. And then we talk the surgeon.

I learn that my plastic surgeon is straight, to the point, and by the book. He does great work, but you have to be willing to listen and stay on top of his rules. He slack, he isn't shy and will let you know it. More simplicities. If you don't like that kind of bedside manner, then I should go and find someone else. Joanne is going to have Caron give me a call, she is someone who had Dr. Faddis and Havard and can give me insight into her process. I leave, pleased with the outcome.

Caron called me that night I was headed out the door to go and watch Jeremy play some softball down at Timberlinn. I normally don't answer the phone when I don't know the callers, but lately I haven't known any of them. And we talk.

She tells me her process and how she was scared, and had that overwhelming feeling as well. She would get through it. See there is a bigger secret about Caron, she is an amazing woman. She had colon cancer two years prior, hysterectomy, and now this and her attitude was wonderful, and catchy. She told me the same things about Dr. Havard that Joanne did, and she said it was wonderful.

She gave me insight into things I never could see... such as nipples. Now this is the one thing I seriously have been fretting about this entire time because without them it would just look funny, and how would they make them, would it look natural? Hahahaha, this is where the insight comes in. She asks me if she could be candid, and of course she can, I want that.

"So, I was a teacher for 25 years for 7th graders, and I was constantly worrying about nipping out and 7th grade boys staring at my chest. I would search for bras to hide them. Now, I have the smoothest chest imaginable and it looks good in everything."

Perspective is key and fascinating.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Ready, set.... NO!

Wednesday, September 22, 2010
First I want to say THANK YOU to everyone and all for your great messages, thoughts, words of encouragement and more. They are appreciated more than you know.
So, today. It has been one of great emotion. Last night I couldn’t sleep, I cried, I paced, and I thought, oh how I thought. You know when you make that decision, the one you have been tossing around in your head over and over again until you can’t toss no more? Right, you know? So, I made mine with last night’s post and yet I had buyer’s remorse….. We have all had it, and it can be an awful feeling. Something was tugging at me that maybe I wasn’t there yet, or something just wasn’t quite right with my decision…. Something was, ummmm, missing.
I woke up this morning, well not really woke up for I wasn’t asleep, but rather decided to get up from bed and take a walk with the dogs. They were ready, well they are always ready, I was restless, and besides the alarm had already gone off and I was just laying there. You see my normal routine is alarm off at 4:45, husband gets up, I get up right after, take the dogs for nice walk, relax and get ready for work. So, I am walking the dogs, and we are walking, and walking probably an hour or so, and my decision is haunting me.
I get a phone call around 8:05am and it is Joanne Stutzman from Samaritan and she is part of some breast cancer support staff function through my oncologist’s office. I apologize for I don’t know yet her full title, but she is there to help me muck through the swamp.  We talk. And talk. I was thankful, yet overwhelmed. I meet with her tomorrow at 2:30 to really go over things, and I remember one other bit of information from the very long conversation, and she said it much more eloquently than I am going to now, for I am just going to throw it out there. She wants me to know that Corvallis doesn’t have all the resources one might need to get through this although there are many. And wants me to know Dr. Faddis, my oncologist is one of the very best, but in the reconstruction arena she wants to make sure I know there are others out there. ……
WHAT! The piece of my discomfort, my indecision, my remorse, right there in that one comment. What a relief, but was a blow to the decision, and here come the tears, get out the buckets! Yes, it lasted for quite awhile. I sat and let it all out with my dogs in my lap (they are NEVER allowed on the yellow chair), Gypsy (my cat) on the armrest, and Zipper (the other cat) on the floor, staring at me. I stopped sobbing eventually, maybe it was when my legs went to sleep due to the weight of the dogs on my lap (they aren’t small), and put my big girl pants on and told myself - I will find the best, I deserve the best, and will get the best to take care of me. Simple. I have control, just relax, and take control.
I got myself together, showered, called a friend, and we had lunch. Friends are amazing people, we all have them, we are them, but we aren’t all good at being friends, right? We could be better, stay in touch more, get together more, all those things we stop doing because of life, it’s normal - that’s life.
Now my lunch could have gone either way, I didn’t go into it expecting some kind of therapy out of it or any warm fuzzies, just needed something different. Now, this is a new-found friend (I am sure she will read this), one I don’t know well, but enough, that’s all, just enough to feel comfortable sitting, eating, talking. We do have things in common – we are both head coaches, love athletics, and have husbands – now there’s a lasting friendship, right? We talked shop for I am helping her put on a tournament and getting my duties to make sure I help her make it the best it can be. We laugh, and that felt good, just to laugh, and about something other than cancer. But then she did something I really didn’t expect and didn’t know I needed, she says, “So HOW are you?” And we dropped shop, and talked.
How did I feel, how is Jeremy doing, what are your next steps, are you Ok, want a drink? All things that we need at times like this, for not just me but both parties. We talked about things I didn’t even realize I felt or knew, about things that really were dumb but  I felt them anyways, about me, really about the inside of me. Not interrupted, no distractions, just focused. I walked away feeling like I had a plan, but for what? It didn’t matter, I gained more strength. I am in control, take control.
At 4:00pm I, along with my sister, met with Dr. Faddis. This appointment was originally scheduled to make my decision and get it on the books so we were ready to go. Now it was more of an informative appointment to learn about all my testing.
1)      My MRI showed an issue in my left breast (this would be the other one) and we would want to get an ultrasound on it and go from there. If I chose mastectomy then we won’t do anything for it will all be coming out anyway.
2)      My BRCA test results are not back yet, we are still waiting.
3)      If “chemo” is something I have to do because of my oncotype (refer to my first or second post for explanation), it would be some kind of estrogen blocker (Tomoxofin – not sure how to spell it)because of my high levels of estrogen and chemo if need be. This could send me into menopause, I will have symptoms as such.
4)      My sister needs to be tested, it does run in families. I hope she does that.
5)      My HER-2 test was negative. The doctor gave me a “pound” so I am sure that is terrific!
6)      We set the date for surgery, but that will be changing, so I won’t list it.
7)      He set me up with an appointment to meet a radiation oncologist so I can become more educated before I follow through with any decision.
8)      I learned that most women in my age group decide to do a double mastectomy and reconstruction due to our decades of life left to live.
9)      He said I am doing really well with all of this. I smiled.

Tomorrow I meet Joanne. Somehow I have a new found strength - thank you friend.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The Plastic Surgeon

Whoever said new boobs would be awesome - no more sagging, the perfect size, no more period pain, obviously didn't know the pain involved in the process.

I met Dr. Havard today and he was wonderful as is his Assistant Anca. I think they treat me better because they know I have breast cancer so they are softer, more engaged, if that makes sense. Anca shows me to the room, asks me how I am, I smile and say as good as can be expected but the sun is out so it could get better. She smiles.

She hands me the gown, oh how I love the gown. I know the drill, say thanks and strip it all off from the waste up. I sit and wait for the doc. Dr. Havard comes in, I get up on the table, asks me the questions like everyone else, how, what, when, wow and amazing you caught it so early. We discuss the new research about women waiting until even later than 40 and how the medical world was upset about it. I nod. Then, he says open it up. Really, just flash you, while you stand there with Anca and stare, what? For those that really know me, I am very modest and have difficulty even peeing in the stall next to someone I know - stage fright. I grin and bear it, he does the usual feel test like all the other docs, taps my leg, get dressed and meet me in the conference room.

He has a big book and gel silicone boob in hand when he comes into the conference room. Strange, I wondered if he could see me turning red. Somehow just carrying a fake booby around seemed wrong, who does that? And he wanted me to touch it and I dabbed but it just felt weird like I was creating some sort of seducing circle of the gel boob, strange.

We talk, well he talks, I listen. He was very thourough and went through everything.  Was I sure I wanted both done even though only one had cancer detected? I told him I wasn't going lop-sided and didn't want one boob to shrink or enlarge with my weight while the other stayed perky. Nope, this girl was going all the way. He continued.

A full reconstruction goes something like this - He will follow behind the sugical oncologist and place temporary saline implants behind my pectoral muscle, they will be about 100cc's. Then you will have a catheter for pain meds that will live outside your body and you have control of for five days (are you thinking pain, because I was thinking god awful pain at this point and went to a happy place),  and it will be removed. You will also have a drain tube that will be removed at the same time. Then after 3 or maybe it was 4 weeks, can't remember, I go into his office once a week and have 50cc's put in to the implant to enlarge them and push the muscle more, and continue to do that until they are where I want them to be. Then an in-and-out surgery and the permanents get put in, and we are done. And then when you heal we make your nipples. He got into this a little but not much, that comes later. Easy? Are you kidding me. There is no easy to it. The explanation sounds great, the real path from start to finish sounds awful.

I will be off of work for three weeks, I won't be able to do alot with my arms for awhile, and I will be different. I thought going in I wasn't attached to my breasts, I could choose life over a physical part of me, no problem. Maybe it hadn't hit me yet, maybe I was still in awe of all this news, maybe I thought I was dreaming and at any time I would wake up. No...... just pinched myself..... still sitting here.

I saw pictures, I thought about the entire process and I got hot, and just started filling with tears and it wouldn't stop. The doc was great, just sat there, and I was filled with an overwhelming bit of emotion. I apparently am attached, and can't fathom not seeing something in the mirror that I have seen for my entire 36 years of life - my breasts. That is kind of scary. Not the kind of scary like walking through a haunted house, but rather the kind that you don't know. The kind that is unknown scary - how will I react, will I  be able to stare at my disfigured body, will my husband love me anymore, will I always look this way, can I handle the emotional state of it? But I have my life, I lose the burden of what if it comes back, I don't have radiation, I have perky boobs again like when I was 20, but they aren't boobs at all, just a muscle forced to enlarge to create an image of a boob. And the buts continue - if this, but that, and however.....

This decision is mine and I am taking what my husband said to heart very much so. He said, "Go ahead, have the lumpectomy and then radiation and the possible chemo. You will be out of work a week and back in the saddle. You will continue to have mammograms, and continue to worry constantly. Then in 20 years it comes back, how old will you be?"

I say, "56."

"And you will have a full mastectomy then, older, how will your body take that?"

I answer, "Not as well, as it would if I were 36."

Silence.....  I cried...... he did his best to console me through the telephone. He is right sometimes, and cares and loves me all the time, and I appreciate his honesty with me - he knows I can take it, and deserve it.

So, tomorrow my husband and I will meet with the surgical oncologist one last time, for my own piece of mind, and make my deicsion - lumpectomy and radiation OR full mastectomy. I think I have already made up my mind, but somehow saying it out loud and committing to it, I am not so sure. I guess I keep thinking the lumpectomy will paint me a better picture..... the brush must be broken.

My husband can be right sometimes..... did I mention that?

Little Things

It’s the really small, small things in life that make a really big difference, and sometimes you don’t notice them until you start bawling your eyes out.
For those of you that don’t know I am the head softball coach at Philomath H.S. and I have the best team and coaching staff anyone could have. We believe that coaching and playing isn’t just about the game of softball but more about our reactions to things in life and how we conduct ourselves in them. I preach a lot about the stuff you have control over, versus the stuff you don’t, and if you don’t have control; control what you can.
An example of this would be (for those of you that need one) is when a short stop throws a ball away. She lost control of the one thing she had complete and total control over – the throw. You don’t have the luxury of controlling the bounce of the ball, how it comes off the bat, the conditions of the field, or the players around you; just you. The ball may shank, hit you somewhere you don’t like, hurt a little, but it is what you do with those obstacles in the game that make you a better player. Take control of those things at all possible times, and let go of the things you can’t – stop placing blame on your reactions. A couple of my favorites, “Well the ball was wet and that is why it went like that,” or “the pitcher was in the way and I didn’t want to hit her.” My reaction every time is, “Why did you throw it?” The blaming doesn’t make your bad choice better, just masks it.
Enough of my little lesson about sports and life, here is the heart of it, the small things and the reason for my novel. I am driving back to work, and had just met with the plastic surgeon, so many things are spinning through my mind and my phone dings with a new text. It is from one of my players, and I know by now most of them should know so I thought it was just another short sweet - I heard, I’m sorry, take care, kind of thing. No it was more, it said, “Hi coach, I just wanted to tell you that I’m praying for you and I hope that you are doing okay. And if anyone can beat it, it’s you :)” And I tear up and laugh all at the same time, can’t help it.
I write her back and let her know I appreciate her prayers and am trying to stomp out all the negative thoughts (something else we say a lot of on the field to prevent the ‘I can’t(s)’ from creeping in, and replacing them with ‘I can’). She writes back and without missing a beat says, “Just like Central, go get em!” Now I know that means very little to an outsider of our playing field, but to me it means a great deal. You see, Central is the team everyone is scared of, the team to beat, they wear red, or, “Coach, it’s Central!” Always my answer, “So what.” It's still softball - so control the things you can. I sobbed.
As a coach you take some ownership of your players and what kind of individuals they are and become, so when a player reminds you of your own words about challenges and obstacles, you can’t help but feel a little bit proud of what you taught, but also a little enlightenment into your own soul – am I practicing what I preach? And will I continue to? I have now become a role model and what will I do with my own obstacles?  
I have control of me, just relax, breath, no one controls me, but me….. I have control of me……

Monday, September 20, 2010

The MRI

Well, I thought it wouldn't come but it did and boy, am I glad that's over and now I wait.....for the results......hate this part. It's funny how they do things at the hospital, they want your patient confidentiality, "stand behind this sign to ensure the patient has privacy...." how is that private? When I finally found where I needed to be I checked in trying to talk quietly so not everyone could hear me, and you have someone at the desk who is chipper and sweet (two attributes I love), but a little hard in hearing. By the time I was done I think everyone watiting knew what I had, how I had it, and if I ate my wheaties this morning.

So, I fill out some forms, first question: Why are you here?

Really, you are asking me that, are you sure I can trust you with this test, why are you asking me, shouldn't you already know. Red flags are everywhere.....

And love this question - Are you pregnant?

Does anyone else find this question terribly stupid? Why no, I just took my pregnancy test before I came in and there was only one line, we are in the clear. I don't use birth control and have sex, so the possibility is there. I have learned to stifle this answer because it freaks everyone out. I get this blank stare of confusion, and then, "so, are you pregnant, or was that a no?" So I said no to just get on with the questions.

While I am sitting there a woman comes in, probably about my age, maybe even younger. She wants to know if an MRI has been ordered for her. The boy behind the counter (and that is what he is) asks her name and what it is for. She gives her name but is hesitant to say why for all of our ears are in the waiting room and we all have our limits on our sense of modesty. And she says what I am least expecting, "It is for a brain tumor, and since I am just getting out of the hospital I thought I would come and check if OHSU had sent in the order."

"And I, just, have breast cancer?" was my first thought. It always could be worse, right? I feel as if this woman were planted for me to realize not to feel sorry for myself and play the 'why me' game, when there are things to be thankful for. What a powerful message.

So on to the MRI... "Stephanie?"

Sonja has now come out to get me, here is my room, my clothes to put on, and locker for my stuff. The restroom is right here and I should try and use it before we go in. This is all very normal like any other procedure. Sonja starts the IV for the dye to see the blood stream better and we head into the room.

"Oh my gosh this is wonderful!" I think I scared Sonja clear out of her size one pants. I walked in to find a padded "bed" with a neck rest like you would find at the chiropractor or while having a massage. I wouldn't have my neck on the side the entire time and hate life when it was done. I explained to her my unrest with the whole concept since my biopsy was so awful laying on my stomach with my neck turned..... Sonja felt sorry for me and said she would look into that and see about getting it changed. Yeah, yeah, Sonja sure you will, but it is a great thought you are going to go to bat for me and others, and the dreaded biopsy table.

The picture: Laying face down, two holes for the breasts to just fall through (terrific!), arms above the head, head in the rest, pillow under the feet, and tune in the head.....She tells me to just lay still, it will be over soon, and if I needed anything to squeeze the ball in my left hand. Now the cool part is when you put your face down there is some kind of mirror you look through and can see her the entire time, your hands above your head and and any other movements outside the tube. Kind of nice to not feel so closed in.

Now I don't know if anyone out there has had an MRI but they really are not that fun, and I don't care if you have a different opinion. So she comes on loud speaker in the tube with, "Here is the first one, it is a minute." I am thinking awesome, these are only minute long scans this is great, I can get through a minute without totally moving. WRONG.... We go to the next one - 4 minutes long, and the next - 3 minutes long and we go back and forth with this stupid game and all you hear is the buzzing and loud sounds the machine makes. Oh, yes, you have ear plugs, but really, what are they supposed to do again? I think they forgot how to do their job of blocking out sound. The entire time I lay there listening to the god awful sounds in a not so great position, I remind myself over and over, "I have control of me, no one else controls my thoughts, just relax, take control of yourself in the situation, control breathing..... I have control of me......"

But here comes my favorite part, she prefaces it really well, but gets you with the sinker, "Stephanie you are doing really great only a few more left. So we have three left and these are THE MOST IMPORTANT. We will be shooting the dye into you now, it is imperative you hold very still. These are the images we really need."

Are you kidding me, you tell me this now after I just sat through 10 others that now these are the most important and this is the time I want to move and re-adjust the most, "This one is 3 minutes," she says, "it is going to start in 30 seconds......" BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.......

"Alright, now the this next one is 5 and a half minutes, and so very important you lay completely still. Doing great." I know in the real world five minutes is small potatoes but in the MRI reality, it is a freaking long time. Who wants to lay still that long? And lastly, "ok, this one is only two minutes. You are doing great!" The jeopardy song is now playing in my mind.

So, I wait.....for the results......I hate this part, but......"I have control of me, no one else controls my thoughts, just relax, take control of yourself in the situation, control breathing..... I have control of me......"

I wait.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Surgery, what?

Thursday, September 16th, 2010
So, my faith in the system has failed. I get a voicemail today from some Mary at registration and I need to call her back. I call her back immediately because I have no idea what I am registering for, but I know it is from the hospital from the phone number.

"Hello, this is Stephanie Kerst, is Mary available?"

"This is."

"Hi there, this is Stephanie Kerst, I received a message from you a few minutes ago that I needed to call you and register."

Mary says, "What are you registering for?"

"I have no idea."

Mary says, "Well you have to be registering for something, you called me."

Frustration with this dummy is building at this point, my phone is on speaker while I am driving, and I am in a hurry to get back to work, "Mary you just called me two minutes ago, leaving me a message to call you back to register. I am sure somewhere in your paperwork, you will find my name and it tells you what surgery I am having done or who ordered it."

I hear nothing but rifling through papers, and then, "What's your name?"

Steam is coming out of my head, I am in need of pulling over to really explain to this woman how to do her job, "Stephanie Kerst, K-E-R-S-T." I say this very slowly so she is able to spell and comprehend at the same time.

"Stephanie I am not finding you anywhere, I don't know why we called.... that was K-E-R-T right?"

Do you feel my pain right now, I repeat, "K----E----R---S---T," very slowly so she won't miss a thing and really emphasize and articulate my last name.

"Oh, ha ha," she says, "Here you are. OK, lets see we need to get you registered (she is laughing, why is she thinking this is funny, I don't think this is funny, and she says, ha ha, what is wrong with her?)

"Your date of birth?" and she continues to go into the list of questions they ask, address, phone, emergency contacts, etc.

I answer them all still waiting to hear what my surgery is and who ordered it, but I let her finish. She is done, I ask, and she says it was scheduled by my surgical oncologist for Monday the 20th and I needed to be there at 6am. I tell her it is wrong, she continues to argue with me and the paperwork says, I stop the loop, say thank you, hang up and call the oncologist. After waiting on hold for Pam, the nurse, we get it all squared away, and they didn't order it, but the registration desk read the MRI order as a surgery.

Where did all the smart people go?

On another note, it is day five of my raw food diet, and it is going really well. I turned down all kinds of chocolate yesterday during a meeting, who does that? I feel great (well sometimes the bowels start talking to me and I have to listen and head to the nearest bathroom), look great, love it. I have lost about seven pounds, but I am thinking that is due to all the trips to the bathroom. At this point it isn't the weight loss, but the healthy body. I am keeping this up and will be ready to have surgery when it is supposed to get here and not when Mary thinks I am scheduled.

I won't know surgery dates until after Wednesday probably, and I have to still make my decision as to whether it is lumpectomy with radiation or total masectomy and reconstruction. Decisions, decisions, decisions - Sure wish the doc could make it for me.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Day 3

OH NO I CHEATED!!!! Who does that, I couldn't resist, it was tempting me..... I had a bite of pizza from the new wood-fired grill in the culinary arts department at LBCC. I couldn't stop myself.... I was smelling it, it said eat me, I thought about it, not for long, and it was all over. I hate myself. I am sure I will get over it....OK, I am over it, just had to admit it to the world I guess.

No really, today I feel a ton better, it is amazing. I don't feel as hungry, my stomach isn't squirming (well it will be later from the pizza, that will be another story), and I just feel better. These grapes sure are delicious! Really they are, from Costco, the black ones - YUMMY!!!

Remember to eat your fruits and veggies!

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

My Health

I know I am going to have surgey, so I must prepare my body for it. I have decided to do the raw food cleanse and diet so I can become more healthy. I know you are all saying about time, but I am doing this to be more healthy, not lose weight, although if that happens in the process that would be great! But the diet is not so great.

Today is day 2 and all I want is real food, but no, I have veggies and fruit to snack on. Yeah for me. My cousin Sandy keeps telling me to stick it out through Day 3 and I will feel like a million bucks. We will see. As for now, I have no energy, a headache, my bowels are talking, and I am hungry!!! wish me luck!

The Surgical Oncologist

Friday, September 10th, 2010
Over to the doctor's office I go - Faddis, is his name. What a wonderful man in a not so wonderful job. It takes a special person to tell someone they have cancer and your outcomes and excpectancies. I applaud him.

I went in with my mom and Jeremy and thought I would cry and cry and cry. Not one tear fell, I guess I cried enough the night before to be over it. The tumor is only .8cm, the level is 2 - meaning it has infiltrated my breast tissue, but still very small, and I have a high level of estrogen. It is a good prognosis thus far, but I would rather not have it all - I mean lets be honest.

We talk about a gene they test for in women who get cancer this early and if positive it increases your chances of cancer by 80%, and that may help me to make my decision. WHAT! They know this so why don't all the women get tested for it now and we can just be more proactive. The cost.... $3700. WOW, now that isn't cheap, and not all insurances cover it. Still not sure if mine will.

So he describes cancer more to us, and I ask more questions, but really I want to know the how, the what and the when. I will have an MRI, monday the 20th, which will tell them if I have more cancer anywhere else or just in the spot they think. If it is only in one place I can choose a lumpectomy which will remove a centimeter all the way around the lump - so three centimeters total around. I will have radiation and depending what they find once removed, or in the lymphnodes, I may have chemo. Chances of coming back, as long as I don't have the gene, 3%.

OR, I can have a total masectomy and reconstruction for both sides since my insurance will cover both sides because they must be equal. No radiation, and again chemo if they find that it has spread, determined by my oncotype (I know, new word just go with it. Apparently they rate the cancer somehow and give it a number, above some number tells them I have to do chemo). Chances of it coming back, less than 1%.

Next steps - wait for the gene test results (7-10 days), MRI results (9/20/10), and I meet with a plastic surgeon on 9/21/10 to discuss things there and see if it is something I want to do. I don't know but total boob job would be pretty cool. No more sagging and the perkiness can return. I will feel like I am 20 again, well at least my boobs will look like it.

And we wait........

The Phone Call

Thursday, September 9th, 2010.
I stayed home from work today because of the pain and too, because I couldn't shower yet and didn't want to go into work like that. And I knew I wouldn't be very productive waiting for the phone call to tell me I am OK, and it was a false alarm. Really, I had no anxiety, thought no way I can't have cancer, I am only 36, doesn't run in the family, so why would I?

I laid around all day and just tried to sleep so I wouldn't sit just waiting. At 4:30 my husband called and said he was on his way home and if I had heard anything.

"Nope, they must have good news for me or they would have called, we are in the clear," I say.

So at 4:45 my doctor calls to check on me and we talk about my pain, how the procedure was awful and I break in with, "So, I haven't heard anything have you?"

Silence................ and I start crying. Don't remember much of the rest of the conversation, just ran into my room and shut the door - my brother in law and kids were over, upstairs waiting for my sister to get there and I didn't want them to see me like this. The things that go through your head when you hear you have cancer - oh my god I am dying, what will happen to my boobs, wait-can you test that again, so when can you cut it out.... and so many more thoughts. My doctor was wonderful and asked if I was alone and I said my husband would be home any minute. I laid there.

Jeremy came home and into the bedroom, looked at me and just held me, and we cried, alot. We were both really scared, and when we stopped crying we just looked at each other. What do you say in that moment, "I love you," was all that came out. Finally he says we have to stay positive we don't know anything yet, and we will beat it. Words of encouragement from the number one pessimist I know.

My sister comes in the room, along with the kids and Mason just gives me the biggest hug ever and I start crying again. Kids can be so wonderful. He just sat there with me while I cried.

I will get through this and be OK....

Monday, September 13, 2010

The Dreadful Biopsy

For those of you that have never had a biopsy before -DON"T DO IT!

Wednesday, September 8th, 2010 - Off to have the biopsy (there is starting to be a theme here with Wednesdays). Same place as my mammograms so I won't get lost headed up the hill to the hospital. My mom takes me up there, Jeremy had a dentist appointment, and really there isn't reason for anyone to be there except they require you to have someone to drive you home. Why, when they don't give you drugs or anything, but it is their policy.

I get to put the gown on and it opens in the front. Pam, my nurse, and I talk about the usual things, like what to expect, the weather and the dogs. The the radiologist comes in and says OK do you have any questions, I don't, I just want to get it all over with. So, she says get up on the table.

So, the table... wish I could draw a picture for you. It is so archaic and uncomfortable, you would think technogology had taken a stand still. It isn't even flat but rather concaved so your lower back is arched the entire time. I get on the table and there is one lonely hole, guess what goes in there.... that's right - the infected boob. What a picture I am painting you right. Laying face down, boob in a hole, and neck tilted to the left, while my right arm is beside me and my left is trying hard to stay comfortable, which isn't possible.

And we begin.....

"Are you comfortable."
"No, but I am not going to be let's just get this over with."

They laugh and begin to numb me up. Can't feel it, don't want to and the neck and low back are killing me. Then I cannot move and if I do we start all over.

"OK, hold still, you are going to hear a loud thump and want to jump but hold still."
I jumped, but not enough to start all over. It was incredible. Your hanging boob gets thumped with something hard and powerful and it jolts your whole body.

"Number 2 is done, just want to get a couple more." I continue laying there, really can't feel a thing. And they are done, but now the biopsy's must be x-rayed to make sure they got enough. I lay there and wait.

"Are you comfortable."
"Yes," I say but only because I am not sure she understands the dumbness of that question.

Pam comes back in and they need more. So the radiologist goes back in, grabs more, sends them out of the room with Pam, and I wait - she didn't ask again. Instead we talked about the song on the radio - good choice at this point, I was aching. Door opens, Pam comes in, and they have enough. I can get up and leave. They will call with the results.

Waiting is hard to do......

The Preliminary

I am young, 36 - well relatively speaking anyway. Healthy overall, and no breast cancer that runs in the family, so why would I get a mammogram? My doctor, after my last annual, mentioned that she likes her patients to get a baseline mammogram before 40 so there is something to compare to when I reach that age. Ok, no big deal I will get it scheduled now so I don't forget later.

Wednesday, August 25th at 9:45am - Well I have never had one so I went in with all kinds of anxiety and anticipation, but really no fear of the "what if" or the "C" word. This was just routine, no issues......... routine. So you take your clothes off from the waste up, put on that awesome gown that brings out my eyes, and head to the machine in a room of nothing but a chair. Selina tells me to put my arm here, turn my chin there, and relax, that is key. Who relaxes when getting a mammogram done? So four poses later, I get to leave, no big deal, glad that is over and no more for at least four years. For the most part it was not that bad.

And so I get the call - you need to come back in for another mammogram, we found something and want a better look at it. I have nothing to worry about though this happens all the time with women my age and it turns out to be nothing. I was hesitant, but it does need to get scheduled.

Wednesday September 2nd, 2010 - Well Mammogram number two is completely awful! The plastic screen got smaller and it smashes even more. Hated it! So it's over and I got to hang out in a room while the radiologist looked it over. Read some People magazine and looked at pictures while the anxiety was building, waiting for the results to be read.

"Hi Stephanie, how are you, I am Joe (lets just call him that for sake of not having a name). Is there a reason you came in to have a mammogram?" I go through the same story of my doctor wanting it... no family history, no issues, no lumps...  Joes brings me into a room with my images up on the screen.

So I see what is concerning him and he wants to get a biopsy. I try hard to talk him out of it, trying to convince him it was just a dot he was seeing and nothing else. Didn't work. I left and waited for them to call me so I could set up the biopsy.