"Snail Mail Support"

In the age of e-mail, text messages and quickie Facebook posts, I have come to appreciate the age-old form of communication. While, electronic messages are nice too, it is amazing the uplifting feeling you get when you open the mailbox and find that someone thought of you. A snail mail card means that someone thought of you, picked out a card, hunted down your address and spent good money on a stamp! Hey, that's hard to come by these days!

I have many people to thank for snail mail encouragement! Some are repeat offenders (you know who you are)! Some are people I haven't heard from in years and some are people I do not even know. I just received a small package the other day from a women who doesn't know me and I do not know her. She sent an uplifting card and a devotional book called "Praying Through Cancer." It is a book she said helped her in her own journey with breast cancer. I found out she attends church with my Grandparents in Oklahoma.

I got another thick envelope in the mail with a very encouraging note from another breast cancer survivor. I don't know her either, but she knows many of my family members who live in Oregon and she says she feels like she knows me. We are now Facebook friends. She sent me this necklace:

I thank everyone for every form of support that has been sent my way. You may never know how much it helps and how much it means to me! Prayers have already been answered along this journey. I know prayers are powerful and I thank everyone who puts me and my family in theirs.

"Is My Heart Ready for Chemo?"

I was back in nuclear medicine again. This time, to see if I have a heart. Okay, it was really to see how my heart pumps. I'm pretty sure there was a heart in there (they didn't tell me otherwise)! I had my MUGA scan (Multiple Gated Acquisition scan) which produces a "movie" of the moving heart.

There is a chemo drug (that I might be given) called Adriamycin (generic name – doxorubicin) and a serious problem with this drug is that it can cause heart failure. Yep, I would call that a really serious problem! So, it is important to make sure you have a healthy heart before considering this as one of the chemo drugs in the cocktail.

The medical oncologist will take these results and the PET scan results into consideration when I see him again next week to decide what my chemo treatment plan should be. It's scary. I don't think about it much, but when the time comes I know I'll need a hand to hold. Until then, I keep it in the back of my mind and go about my days as normally as I can (with lots of visits to the cancer center thrown in). But, those visits are becoming part of my "normal."

"Clinical Trial Guinea Pig"

Clinical trials make me think of lab rats and last resorts for patients with no other options. I've come to learn that many clinical trials are not like that at all. However, it doesn't mean I want to be a guinea pig!

My cancer center is trying to recruit me into a chemotherapy clinical trial. It was confusing at first, but what I understand is that they are trying to determine best outcomes between two already well-known standard treatments. The trial is only for women with "high risk" cancer (aggressive variety like mine) and are Her2 negative (which I am).

While I understand the point of such research and support it. I'm not sure it is right for me. Participants are "randomized" into two different groups. So, the trial (not the doctor) decides exactly which treatment is given. While I have been assured that either treatment would be "gold standard" for me, I still feel apprehensive.

I understand that altruism is defined as the opposite of selfishness. I am interested in the future welfare of others and I do not want to be selfish. However, since this is MY fight against breast cancer, I feel strongly that I'd like the doctor to be the one to decide exactly what chemo treatment is right for me (not a computer). So, I struggle to decide because I feel the pull in both directions.

"Most Popular Patient Ever!"

At the end of my chemo treatment, my radiation treatments will get underway. I may get a two week break, like a treatment-free vacation! I just had my first appointment with my radiation oncologist. It looks like we'll be hanging out for about six weeks (30 treatments).

I'll be glad to see him again! It will mean that things are winding down and there will be a light at the end of the tunnel. I just might be able to see it by then! Plus, as a bonus, he promised to tell me a joke a day.

According to him, I also have the unique opportunity to become the most popular patient ever after it was revealed that I work for Hershey and do have access to samples! Hey, a joke plus winning the popularity contest...what a deal!

"The big "C"...Chemo!"

I know cancer is supposed to have the honorary title of the "The Big C" but I am reassigning that moniker to chemo instead. I met with my medical oncologist for the first time and I kind of expected a mad scientist with crazy white hair ready to mix up some stinking toxic potion (possibly in a cauldron)! While a little of that toxic part might be true, he was nothing like that! He seemed smart, capable and compassionate (except for when he said I couldn't keep my hair)!

We don't have a complete plan yet. I have to see him again in two weeks. In the meantime, I will be getting a PET scan, a MUGA scan and some more lab work. The MUGA scan takes a look at the health of your heart (because some - one in particular - chemo drugs can be hard on the heart).

It looks like I'll be starting the treatments in early to mid-September and I can plan on dedicating about five months of my life to it. I'll know more after "chemo class" which comes before treatments start. I hope I earn a good grade! ;)

"PET Scan...Has Nothing To Do With Our Cat"

Nice Nurse Nancy called today to let me know that my "case" had been presented by my surgeon at the cancer center's multi-disciplinary conference. This is when everyone (from pathologists and oncologists to radiologists and surgeons) come together to discuss the patients under their care. It is nice to know that everyone gets on the same page and doesn't just read a chart!

The medical oncologist I will see for the first time next week was there and said he wanted a PET scan ordered to check for metastasis. This is when cancer sneaks away from the tumor and decides to go hang out somewhere else in your body, not a good deal! Nurse Nancy assured me it wasn't because he thought this would be the case, but rather because my tumor was aggressive and because of my young age.

So, once again I have another trip to the cancer center on my calendar and a reminder that I'm not even close to being done with all this.

"A Holding Pattern"

I feel like a car that has been parked in the garage. I haven't been out much since my surgery. I've been to the doctor and to church this past Sunday. I dusted off the cobwebs and took a walk around the neighborhood because the weather was so nice yesterday. I pushed Jayce in the stroller while Kaylee lapped me on her scooter. Everything I have read tells me that exercise helps with everything, but after 30 minutes of pushing that stroller up my hilly streets I wasn't sure what it was helping!

I'm happy that my surgical pathology report was such a good one, but I wish the surgical site would hurt less. I don't want to be a wimp about it, but I thought it would feel better than this by now. It has improved, I try to remind myself. While I cope with the end of step one, my mind wanders to next step.

I'm back in a holding pattern, not knowing what to expect once again. Next week, I have appointments with the medical oncologist and the radiation oncologist. I guess I will find out more about the plan at that point or I may face more tests first. I just don't know, but I do know that I don't feel ready to take on the unknown of chemo. I think I'll just stay in the garage a little longer, it really isn't that bad in here.

"Where Does My Help Come From"

"My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth!" Psalm 121:2

The Lord sent my Mom and Dad to fill in recently. My help came from them in spades! They arrived August 1 (the day before surgery) and just left today. Mom cleaned the house, cooked every dinner, fed everyone breakfast and lunch, made several trips to the grocery store, took Kaylee to a dentist appointment and back-to- school clothes shopping. She did untold loads of laundry, took me to pre-op and post-op doctor appointments and sat in the waiting room with Kent during my surgery. She took care of the baby. Even though I'm sure she enjoyed this part the most, every feeding and diaper change and everything else was a lot of work. I'm sure Jayce is crawling around wondering where that other Mommy went. Me too.

Dad took Kaylee shopping and bought her some school shoes (the kind that only Grandparents would buy because Mom and Dad wouldn't spend that much)! He played with the kids, fixed a leaky bathtub faucet, installed a new ceiling fan, and ran all kinds of errands.

They have been steady, rock solid providers of love and care. I don't know what to say because thank you is too small and just doesn't cover it. I'm crying because it is like God's love, just something that you can't repay no matter how much you want too. I miss them already, but not because of all the "things" that they did. I just miss their loving presence.

"Prepare for New Hair"

Since I am healing from surgery and Chemotherapy looms, I decided to be proactive and start taking a look at wigs. I want to be ready when my G.I. Jane moment comes. My Mom and I stopped by the cancer center gift shop to ask for ideas about where to look for a good wig. We were told by the nice lady volunteer that we had to look no further than right where we stood. I looked around and saw about five wigs on styrofoam heads, lots of hats and little gift items and sighed inside.

We followed her supervisor to a door that said "fitting room" and went inside. It was like an entire private wig shop! I've certainly never seen so many styrofoam heads in one place! I told the lady I wasn't ready to do all this right now, I just wanted to get ideas. She responded by asking if I lived in Boone County. I said I did and thought it was a strange question. Then I was blessed! She happily informed me that they have a grant from the Komen Foundation that allows them to give any Boone County resident with breast cancer a FREE wig and supplies! I was floored! What a wonderful gift. Just one more financial piece of the puzzle that we don't have to worry about!

So we went to work on finding the new hair that was "me." It turned out I liked the first one I tried, we just worked our way through some different colors until I knew we had the right one. It really looks amazing! She took my soon-to-be new hair, the super important foam head, the supply kit (did you know they even make wig hairspray?), and a wig brush and bagged it all up. I walked out with nearly $200 worth of stuff that will make me feel better about myself in the weeks to come and I learned that Komen is more than just pink ribbons.

"The Home Run of Good News!"

For the first time since my surgery, I left the house! Now, before you start thinking that a post-op visit with the surgeon isn't exciting, let me correct your thinking! It was the most exciting thing I've done in quite some time, because she had nothing to give me but good news!

The final lab report was so positive, I may have to frame it! She got the entire tumor out with "clean margins" (that's important in case you don't know about such things), all five lymph nodes that were removed tested negative for cancer! That means no cancer had spread! Also, the cancer had not made its way into the blood stream even at the site of the tumor!

My entourage (Mom and Husband) and I were practically standing up and cheering like we were at a ball game and someone had hit a home run! Someone pass the peanuts!