Well, I had my final appointment with my breast cancer surgeon, WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING as well as outstanding doctor. He is, as he called himself, my "replacement for my yearly mammograms". I just smiled at him when he said that and reminded him that I am very efficient like that....My first mammogram was my last mammogram, and NEVER ANOTHER, so I am happy to replace it with seeing him each year.
He is happy with the results of my healing and final surgery, as well as the range of motion I am back to. Yep, the arms are in full swing and that's not necessarily easy for all breast surgery patients who go through this type of surgery.
Tomorrow I have my follow up with my oncologist and find out how my blood count is looking and what my schedule with seeing him looks like. Most likely every three to six months....stay tuned..........
Monday, September 14, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Catching up...
Wow! It has been a while, hasn't it? Here I am, sitting and relaxing on this fine, quiet Labor Day and twisting uncomfortably in my sports bra that MUST be worn for another 2 weeks (minus the shower time and perhaps an hour in the evening to catch a breather from it), and I realize that I have created not one blog about my final surgery.
I HAVE MY FOOBS! I know, funny name, but it is comic relief to help get through the moments of tragedy, sadness, renewal, and trying to adjust to a new shape....well the shape of me is ever changing and in need of more work, but that will only come once I can really get back to the grindstone of working out. For now I must take it easy to let my body recouperate and heal after my latest surgery.
August 12 was the day. Up early, daughter to daycare a bit earlier than normal, and off to the surgical center. It all seemed so uneventful, very different from my first surgery...the bilateral mastectomy. That time it was a deep, painful IV in my wrist, nerves from hell trying to prepare for two rather large parts of my body being removed, trying to make eye contact with ANYONE at the hospital who would give me the look that all would be ok, it wouldn't last long, I would wake up and be just fine......wishful thinking....medical providers are trained not to let things, or patients, get to them. This time, though, I only had a few people to talk to before going to the OR, and this time I walked on my own into the room. There was no wheeling me on some big bed, banging into wall corners....nope...I met my OR nurse who spoke so sweetly, and not the fake sweet, then walked with me, linking arms with me, right into the OR where I was introduced to the OR tech. My anesthesiologist was there a moment later ( I had met and spoken with him a little earlier) and put the IV in a NORMAL part of my arm. And something new, I did not need to have an air tube inserted. I was able to breathe on my own through my surgery, as these providers tend to like it this way in shorter surgeries to monitor how a patient is doing. I LIKED THAT. Breathing tubes only cause sore throats on top of everything else from surgery, and this time I only had dry mouth from the oxygen that was somewhere near my nose and mouth.
An hour and a half and I was done. I woke up in a curtained recovery area where I stayed for a short while, trying to get my bearings. I got dressed and sat in the chair next to the bed, sipped a little apple juice and was then treated to crackers and a raspberry popsicle. Within about and hour and a half after my surgery was complete, I was able to go home. I don't remember the ride home so much, except my husband telling me about the Farmer's Market we were passing by, but then I was stretched out on the couch where I stayed for just a few short days.
This time there were no drains to pull out, to measure, to record. I had my chest wrapped with a large ace bandage that covered the incisions, so I couldn't see much, but within just two days of surgery the ace came off and it was strictly home care from then on.
Now, four weeks later, I sit here, a better size, and healthier than I was at the beginning of this year, and I CAN'T WAIT to get out of this thing. I got spoiled not having to wear a bra after my first surgery but for the past 4 weeks I've been couped up in this thing.....UGH!
I'm reminded of how I used to feel about women I would see wondering around town or campus my first time 'round in college, and I thought...ewww, gross. Of course, I wouldn't the girls to hang so freely if I was still so large as I was just a few months ago. But NOW....I don't like the confining feeling. Maybe it's just the issue of the sports bra. I hope it's not being ungrateful for the new lease on life I have been given and the need I have to take new care of the "new girls", my foobs, but I don't think so.
So yes, I have had my final surgery, may have to go back in only for a cosmetic "retouch", but I'm done. There are times I sit here and wonder if I am going to get used to the twinges or if I am going to grow out of them. Phantom pain? Perhaps. Nerves trying to figure out what the hell has been going on? Yeah, probably. Sometimes I think maybe I would have been better without all the reconstruction, but then again, I can't imagine what it would have been like going from very large to flat in one fell swoop. Yeah, there are prosthetics, but I don't think I could handle all that for myself. I applaud women at every stage and admire the will to fight and go on and do what they do, what we do, to make life normal again. Afterall, life changed drastically with one diagnosis, and all that followed has just been a means to get back to something resembling health and familiarity of life.
I HAVE MY FOOBS! I know, funny name, but it is comic relief to help get through the moments of tragedy, sadness, renewal, and trying to adjust to a new shape....well the shape of me is ever changing and in need of more work, but that will only come once I can really get back to the grindstone of working out. For now I must take it easy to let my body recouperate and heal after my latest surgery.
August 12 was the day. Up early, daughter to daycare a bit earlier than normal, and off to the surgical center. It all seemed so uneventful, very different from my first surgery...the bilateral mastectomy. That time it was a deep, painful IV in my wrist, nerves from hell trying to prepare for two rather large parts of my body being removed, trying to make eye contact with ANYONE at the hospital who would give me the look that all would be ok, it wouldn't last long, I would wake up and be just fine......wishful thinking....medical providers are trained not to let things, or patients, get to them. This time, though, I only had a few people to talk to before going to the OR, and this time I walked on my own into the room. There was no wheeling me on some big bed, banging into wall corners....nope...I met my OR nurse who spoke so sweetly, and not the fake sweet, then walked with me, linking arms with me, right into the OR where I was introduced to the OR tech. My anesthesiologist was there a moment later ( I had met and spoken with him a little earlier) and put the IV in a NORMAL part of my arm. And something new, I did not need to have an air tube inserted. I was able to breathe on my own through my surgery, as these providers tend to like it this way in shorter surgeries to monitor how a patient is doing. I LIKED THAT. Breathing tubes only cause sore throats on top of everything else from surgery, and this time I only had dry mouth from the oxygen that was somewhere near my nose and mouth.
An hour and a half and I was done. I woke up in a curtained recovery area where I stayed for a short while, trying to get my bearings. I got dressed and sat in the chair next to the bed, sipped a little apple juice and was then treated to crackers and a raspberry popsicle. Within about and hour and a half after my surgery was complete, I was able to go home. I don't remember the ride home so much, except my husband telling me about the Farmer's Market we were passing by, but then I was stretched out on the couch where I stayed for just a few short days.
This time there were no drains to pull out, to measure, to record. I had my chest wrapped with a large ace bandage that covered the incisions, so I couldn't see much, but within just two days of surgery the ace came off and it was strictly home care from then on.
Now, four weeks later, I sit here, a better size, and healthier than I was at the beginning of this year, and I CAN'T WAIT to get out of this thing. I got spoiled not having to wear a bra after my first surgery but for the past 4 weeks I've been couped up in this thing.....UGH!
I'm reminded of how I used to feel about women I would see wondering around town or campus my first time 'round in college, and I thought...ewww, gross. Of course, I wouldn't the girls to hang so freely if I was still so large as I was just a few months ago. But NOW....I don't like the confining feeling. Maybe it's just the issue of the sports bra. I hope it's not being ungrateful for the new lease on life I have been given and the need I have to take new care of the "new girls", my foobs, but I don't think so.
So yes, I have had my final surgery, may have to go back in only for a cosmetic "retouch", but I'm done. There are times I sit here and wonder if I am going to get used to the twinges or if I am going to grow out of them. Phantom pain? Perhaps. Nerves trying to figure out what the hell has been going on? Yeah, probably. Sometimes I think maybe I would have been better without all the reconstruction, but then again, I can't imagine what it would have been like going from very large to flat in one fell swoop. Yeah, there are prosthetics, but I don't think I could handle all that for myself. I applaud women at every stage and admire the will to fight and go on and do what they do, what we do, to make life normal again. Afterall, life changed drastically with one diagnosis, and all that followed has just been a means to get back to something resembling health and familiarity of life.
Oh yeah, and the hair is growing back.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Almost there...
This week has brought about 2 final appointments for me. I had my last expanders fill and am now awaiting my final surgery date, to take place within the next month, and I am happy with my new size. What a change. I can't wait to get my body back into shape, and even better shape than I have been in a long time. I've got the image and the desire of a much healthier me, physically, mentally, in any way I can be. This was NOT the way I wanted to have a reduction, but I will certainly make this the best I can.
Second, I had an appointment with my oncologist and everything is going well. I received great praise for how well I made it through all the chemo, but I get a break before starting my tamoxifen. He wants to see if the symptoms I continue to experience are residual chemo side effects, and wants me to shake those before new side effects begin (oh great, right?). Headaches are one of the main side effects and I have already been fighting them off for the last few weeks. Yep, the steroids are nasty little buggers, but thank God for them at the same time. So, instead of having to start the medicine now, I can wait another month before I do. AND, I can take the rest of the summer off, away from oncology appointments, until just after Labor Day. I've been told I will then start going in about every 3 months for regular oncology check-ups, to include blood work, to make sure all stays free and clear.
I cannot rave enough about the amazing care I have received through this whole ordeal. I feel as though I have new family members in the doctors and nurses that have been there with me every step of the way. So much compassion and concern, from my appointment with my midwife in January, my first (and last) mammogram and ultrasound where I whinced in pain as the lump was squashed within my right breast, through my two biopsies the next day where the tears rolled when my first biopsy began with not enough numbing juice.....then when my second biopsy was about to begin and I just sobbed on the table at the injustice and fear of it all set in...thoughts of not being here for my children, my husband, my family and friends......my children..............
EVERYONE, right down to my anesthesiologist, have been the best. At a time when life shows how fragile it can be, the amount of encouragement and support, smiles and cheers, through my bilateral mastectomy to my chemo-filled Wednesdays, those who have known me most of my life right down to those that have only just gotten to know me have been my strength. People who have never met me have sent prayers that I KNOW have been helping to heal me. This is a horrible diagnosis for everyone involved, but it has essentially been just a huge ingrown toenail. It had to be removed and dealt with to prevent it from coming back.
My life is about to take a wonderful turn. Now that my energy has begun to return, and won't be zapped away again next week, as would be if I was still going through chemo, I am determined to be a stronger and healthier me. I have to be. My family will be growing stronger with me. I don't want to be gone, and I refuse to let this take me before my time. I realize it is not for me to say......I know that when I have done my work here, and when God has decided I will better serve him there, then I will leave. But this buttercup has so much more to offer. And I have so many people to thank. If you are reading this, you know who you are. So thank you for the love and support and prayers. Please keep praying...I know I will.
Second, I had an appointment with my oncologist and everything is going well. I received great praise for how well I made it through all the chemo, but I get a break before starting my tamoxifen. He wants to see if the symptoms I continue to experience are residual chemo side effects, and wants me to shake those before new side effects begin (oh great, right?). Headaches are one of the main side effects and I have already been fighting them off for the last few weeks. Yep, the steroids are nasty little buggers, but thank God for them at the same time. So, instead of having to start the medicine now, I can wait another month before I do. AND, I can take the rest of the summer off, away from oncology appointments, until just after Labor Day. I've been told I will then start going in about every 3 months for regular oncology check-ups, to include blood work, to make sure all stays free and clear.
I cannot rave enough about the amazing care I have received through this whole ordeal. I feel as though I have new family members in the doctors and nurses that have been there with me every step of the way. So much compassion and concern, from my appointment with my midwife in January, my first (and last) mammogram and ultrasound where I whinced in pain as the lump was squashed within my right breast, through my two biopsies the next day where the tears rolled when my first biopsy began with not enough numbing juice.....then when my second biopsy was about to begin and I just sobbed on the table at the injustice and fear of it all set in...thoughts of not being here for my children, my husband, my family and friends......my children..............
EVERYONE, right down to my anesthesiologist, have been the best. At a time when life shows how fragile it can be, the amount of encouragement and support, smiles and cheers, through my bilateral mastectomy to my chemo-filled Wednesdays, those who have known me most of my life right down to those that have only just gotten to know me have been my strength. People who have never met me have sent prayers that I KNOW have been helping to heal me. This is a horrible diagnosis for everyone involved, but it has essentially been just a huge ingrown toenail. It had to be removed and dealt with to prevent it from coming back.
My life is about to take a wonderful turn. Now that my energy has begun to return, and won't be zapped away again next week, as would be if I was still going through chemo, I am determined to be a stronger and healthier me. I have to be. My family will be growing stronger with me. I don't want to be gone, and I refuse to let this take me before my time. I realize it is not for me to say......I know that when I have done my work here, and when God has decided I will better serve him there, then I will leave. But this buttercup has so much more to offer. And I have so many people to thank. If you are reading this, you know who you are. So thank you for the love and support and prayers. Please keep praying...I know I will.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
The end is here....
The end of chemo, that is.....Yep, I went through my last session of chemo Wednesday and immediately came home and felt so very wiped out. This weekend is going to be a long one, but I have my kids here and a wonderful husband to take care of me. I am glad for it to be over, but worried about where I go from here. I hope it is all gone, I hope the 4 sessions will be enough, I hope to get my life back to normal sometime soon.
I can't help but to think about what may lurk around the corners of life from here on out, though. I would be a fool to say I wasn't worried about whether or not some form of cancer will return. I just have to think to myself all the best and positive things I can, that my life will only get better, that I can ensure my children can be healthier due to this. I know I'm not ready to leave any of them yet, nor am I finished with things to do here on earth. But I will put all my life into getting better and being here for my family and friends and just being.
I feel like I am entering a new realm, being over the chemo part of it all, following the surgery which came after the diagnosis brought on by biopsies due to a lump that started it all. Where do I go from here? For six months my life has been caught up in illness and trying to get better...What comes next? For now I am at the end, but I feel it is only the beginning.....again...
I can't help but to think about what may lurk around the corners of life from here on out, though. I would be a fool to say I wasn't worried about whether or not some form of cancer will return. I just have to think to myself all the best and positive things I can, that my life will only get better, that I can ensure my children can be healthier due to this. I know I'm not ready to leave any of them yet, nor am I finished with things to do here on earth. But I will put all my life into getting better and being here for my family and friends and just being.
I feel like I am entering a new realm, being over the chemo part of it all, following the surgery which came after the diagnosis brought on by biopsies due to a lump that started it all. Where do I go from here? For six months my life has been caught up in illness and trying to get better...What comes next? For now I am at the end, but I feel it is only the beginning.....again...
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Second thoughts...
The past few days I have been struck by a thought that is more a rhetorical question than anything else. Is there anyone else, in this world full of so many people, who feel just completely alone? I know there are, but I mean perfectly adjusted, sociable, and sane people...
Lately I have been feeling like I just have nothing in common with anyone around here and I don't really relate to anyone around here. As I read this over it seems so bizzare, especially when I have now become a part of something more and more common with others. Still, there is a loneliness in the diagnosis that I can't explain. And there are so many facets that go along with this. I just keep typing them in but deleting them just as quickly. It's just not sounding right, not matching my real feelings. I think the chemo is really taking its toll on my brain cells, as well as everything else in my body, and I just can't think so clearly most of the time to get my thoughts put together. Just bear with me on this one....
Mostly, lately, it seems my far-away friends, and even internet friends I have yet to meet (my pink ribbon sisters), are more concerned with supporting me and encouraging me and wanting to be here with me than those that really are here. I'm not trying to say no one has been supportive or encouraging, and I'm not talking about the things friends have sent through the mail. I just mean support and encouragement at its basic level. Lately I have been noticing that my "perky girls" are the biggest subject of interest and get the most looks, even though I don't have the finished product yet. I realize as women we hope for perky and firm and great shape, but to have to go through a large chest my whole life, having it be the topic of too much concentration, and then to lose it in one fell swoop from out of the blue.......well, I still don't think I have grieved completely... How can I when I am constantly reminded of how "perky" I'm going to be? MAYBE I JUST WANTED TO LOSE WEIGHT AND HAVE A REDUCTION AND CANCER HAS SCREWED NOT ONLY WITH MY BODY BUT WITH MY BRAIN AS WELL.
Sorry, I told you it's just not coming out too well.
I realize how I am getting a second chance at life. I am so greatful that technology is where it is, that my husband's job move last year was the best thing for us when looking at how expensive all this could have been for us. I realize I have some of the best care in the country if not the world right now. I realize my body will be more of what I have wanted after my surgery and after I get back into shape. But I am tired of people looking me up and down to try to guage my "fills" and make light of it like it's all about having better boobs. I know one can't understand unless they have gone through it, and maybe I'm being too harsh. Maybe I should stop being down about this and just see this for the positives. But maybe others need to understand I am having second thoughts about going through this final stage of reconstruction, second thoughts about finishing my last chemo. I am told I have been so strong and have such a great attitude about it all. But no one can know the thoughts and feelings I have, having to be hooked up for 4 hours while I get juiced up on steroids that screw with my brain, chemo drugs that essentially are poisoning me, have to deal with the build up of fatigue, lack of taste or funky taste in my mouth, the feeling that I have downed the hottest cup of coffee and should have one big blister for a tongue, a bald head that makes me look like "Powder", and kids who just don't have the ability to understand why I'm a raving #%!@h all too often.
I'm exhausted, I'm fighting headaches every day, but I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Trouble is, I just don't know that I want to walk all the way through to the other side. I'm certainly glad I am not in the same place I was 4 months ago, but I don't know how well I'm going to get through this next round....
Lately I have been feeling like I just have nothing in common with anyone around here and I don't really relate to anyone around here. As I read this over it seems so bizzare, especially when I have now become a part of something more and more common with others. Still, there is a loneliness in the diagnosis that I can't explain. And there are so many facets that go along with this. I just keep typing them in but deleting them just as quickly. It's just not sounding right, not matching my real feelings. I think the chemo is really taking its toll on my brain cells, as well as everything else in my body, and I just can't think so clearly most of the time to get my thoughts put together. Just bear with me on this one....
Mostly, lately, it seems my far-away friends, and even internet friends I have yet to meet (my pink ribbon sisters), are more concerned with supporting me and encouraging me and wanting to be here with me than those that really are here. I'm not trying to say no one has been supportive or encouraging, and I'm not talking about the things friends have sent through the mail. I just mean support and encouragement at its basic level. Lately I have been noticing that my "perky girls" are the biggest subject of interest and get the most looks, even though I don't have the finished product yet. I realize as women we hope for perky and firm and great shape, but to have to go through a large chest my whole life, having it be the topic of too much concentration, and then to lose it in one fell swoop from out of the blue.......well, I still don't think I have grieved completely... How can I when I am constantly reminded of how "perky" I'm going to be? MAYBE I JUST WANTED TO LOSE WEIGHT AND HAVE A REDUCTION AND CANCER HAS SCREWED NOT ONLY WITH MY BODY BUT WITH MY BRAIN AS WELL.
Sorry, I told you it's just not coming out too well.
I realize how I am getting a second chance at life. I am so greatful that technology is where it is, that my husband's job move last year was the best thing for us when looking at how expensive all this could have been for us. I realize I have some of the best care in the country if not the world right now. I realize my body will be more of what I have wanted after my surgery and after I get back into shape. But I am tired of people looking me up and down to try to guage my "fills" and make light of it like it's all about having better boobs. I know one can't understand unless they have gone through it, and maybe I'm being too harsh. Maybe I should stop being down about this and just see this for the positives. But maybe others need to understand I am having second thoughts about going through this final stage of reconstruction, second thoughts about finishing my last chemo. I am told I have been so strong and have such a great attitude about it all. But no one can know the thoughts and feelings I have, having to be hooked up for 4 hours while I get juiced up on steroids that screw with my brain, chemo drugs that essentially are poisoning me, have to deal with the build up of fatigue, lack of taste or funky taste in my mouth, the feeling that I have downed the hottest cup of coffee and should have one big blister for a tongue, a bald head that makes me look like "Powder", and kids who just don't have the ability to understand why I'm a raving #%!@h all too often.
I'm exhausted, I'm fighting headaches every day, but I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Trouble is, I just don't know that I want to walk all the way through to the other side. I'm certainly glad I am not in the same place I was 4 months ago, but I don't know how well I'm going to get through this next round....
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Reaching...
Tonight, as I took a shower, to try to cool off from my chemo, steroids, and other cocktail of IV fluids of yesterday, and my neulasta shot today, I experienced, as I have a few times, the sensation, even after shaving the little stubble on top of my head, of needing to reach back and finish rinsing the rest of my hair. I even got out and dried my baldness and thought about needing to grab my brush...I haven't had hair on my head now for a good month, but some things just don't seem to change.
I thought for a moment the experience might catch in my throat and it would make me cry, but the tears never came. There are days when I do feel the breeze across my scalp and I think to myself that I want to pull out the ponytail. Then I realize there is no ponytail back there and run my hand across the scalp that used to have such a good mane. I know it will come back at some point, and I may even have a different color or texture. It will be interesting to see.
So, as I sit here tonight, boys falling asleep on the two couches, both having long and wonderful days, and accepting the baldness though they may not want it, I feel the cool breeze again, drifting across my scalp, and consider myself so lucky to still be here, sitting here, looking at my boys, knowing my little girl is tucked into bed, now sleeping after playing her glow worm's music over and over, and am hopeful for more evenings like this.
I thought for a moment the experience might catch in my throat and it would make me cry, but the tears never came. There are days when I do feel the breeze across my scalp and I think to myself that I want to pull out the ponytail. Then I realize there is no ponytail back there and run my hand across the scalp that used to have such a good mane. I know it will come back at some point, and I may even have a different color or texture. It will be interesting to see.
So, as I sit here tonight, boys falling asleep on the two couches, both having long and wonderful days, and accepting the baldness though they may not want it, I feel the cool breeze again, drifting across my scalp, and consider myself so lucky to still be here, sitting here, looking at my boys, knowing my little girl is tucked into bed, now sleeping after playing her glow worm's music over and over, and am hopeful for more evenings like this.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
LIVIN' FOR THESE DAYS...
Ahh, yes...it is the days that turn out like this that encourage me to keep my head, chin, and spirits up after coming through some of the most horrible days I thought I would feel. It's not for anything profound, nothing remarkable...It has simply been the getting up with no headache, feeling like I've rested well, hearing my 2 year old talking to herself, seeing my smiling husband's morning face, chatting with my step-daughter, going shopping and NOT feeling worn out,,,
basically I have felt fairly human today and it has been wonderful.
My spring semester at Southern finally came to a close this past Thursday and I have yet to feel the let-down from trudging through it all. My horse blinders were on and secured in place for the past 4 months just to get me through school while it seemed all hell was breaking loose in my little bubble world around me. Cancer and classes do not mix, much like oil and water. But I SOMEHOW was able to get through the semester and do pretty well (grades are not officially out until next month). I think I was just numb to everything going on just to get myself through it all......from diagnosis to surgery, and beginning my spring semester to my last final. I think I'm still in shock that it's done for the summer, and I am half way through treatment. WHAT A RELIEF!!!!!!!!!!!
I have to thank everyone for the prayers and encouragement, at the sake of sounding like a broken record...the thoughtfulness and strength of all those behind me have really carried me through, and I'm sure have played a HUGE part in how well I feel in between treatments.
You are all a tremendous blessing to me.
basically I have felt fairly human today and it has been wonderful.
My spring semester at Southern finally came to a close this past Thursday and I have yet to feel the let-down from trudging through it all. My horse blinders were on and secured in place for the past 4 months just to get me through school while it seemed all hell was breaking loose in my little bubble world around me. Cancer and classes do not mix, much like oil and water. But I SOMEHOW was able to get through the semester and do pretty well (grades are not officially out until next month). I think I was just numb to everything going on just to get myself through it all......from diagnosis to surgery, and beginning my spring semester to my last final. I think I'm still in shock that it's done for the summer, and I am half way through treatment. WHAT A RELIEF!!!!!!!!!!!
I have to thank everyone for the prayers and encouragement, at the sake of sounding like a broken record...the thoughtfulness and strength of all those behind me have really carried me through, and I'm sure have played a HUGE part in how well I feel in between treatments.
You are all a tremendous blessing to me.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Moments of fear, facing the truth...
This has to be one of the most horrific trials in my life. I never knew how low I would feel, but the fear of being gone, not knowing if my surgery has really gotten rid of everything has tested my faith beyond what I ever believed. I hang on, white knuckling the moments I can, but realize I have to let go and trust that I am in good hands. I want to be where I am supposed to be in this life I have been given. I only continue to hope and pray that I am meant to be here for a much longer period...there is too much I haven't seen, haven't done, and my kids are my life...I am NOT ready to be gone. Lord, just hold me in your hands and do with my life as you see fit. These are my moments of fear, learning to face the truth...
Today has been slow and I'm feeling the aches and pains of the chemo and injection...I'm just plugging along and hoping to fight through it as much as I can this weekend. I HATE being couped up on the couch all weekend, especially when the boys have soccer and lil'bit wants me to play with her...half way there, half way there....I just have to keep repeating it.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Half-way done...
Today was my second of four chemo sessions. I know I have jumped waaayyyyy ahead of my journey here, but I wanted to get in to add this tonight. I am journaling during my sessions before catching a good nap...heck I am there for at least 4 hours at an infusion, I may as well take advantage.
Next post will go back and I will catch everyone up.....it has been quite a ride so far.
Next post will go back and I will catch everyone up.....it has been quite a ride so far.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Welcome to my blog! I have been asked by a few people if I plan on, or if I already have been , blogging my journey through this breast cancer ordeal. Well, here it is. I am up and down, and won't always be in here as often as I would like, but for those of you interested in following this process, here it will be.
It was too difficult in the beginning to track every step...it was just too emotional to sit and journal or log it all, what with appointments, tests, emotions, full-time school just starting all at the same time. I didn't want to face it was really happening, and putting it all down would only make it that much more real for me. I decided to let this path be what it would be, my husband at my side, doing most of the reading up, and let God work through the hands of the doctors and nurses who were to be charged with my care. So far, what an AMAZING team of gifted individuals!
So join me, at your leisure, and see how things have gone and continue to go. I will try to keep updating regularly, but if not, hang in there.....I AM!!!!!!!
It was too difficult in the beginning to track every step...it was just too emotional to sit and journal or log it all, what with appointments, tests, emotions, full-time school just starting all at the same time. I didn't want to face it was really happening, and putting it all down would only make it that much more real for me. I decided to let this path be what it would be, my husband at my side, doing most of the reading up, and let God work through the hands of the doctors and nurses who were to be charged with my care. So far, what an AMAZING team of gifted individuals!
So join me, at your leisure, and see how things have gone and continue to go. I will try to keep updating regularly, but if not, hang in there.....I AM!!!!!!!
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