So what is radiation like, exactly?

I didn't know what radiation was like before I started, either.  Now after 7 weeks of treatment I feel like I'm an expert.  Here's how every day since February 28 has been:
Step one: check in at the front desk in the basement of Prentice and scan my barcoded card.
Step two: get called back to change, dress down from the waist up and put on the oh so stylish hospital gown.

Step three: head back to the vault where the machine is and chit chat with the radiation therapists.

This is similar to the radiation machine at Prentice.  It's crazy big.

Step four: verify my name, date of birth, and area of treatment.
Step five: lay down on the plank, put my arms up, get raised up a few feet to where the arm of the machine is, and lay still while the therapists line up the machine.
Step six: lay still while the laser is on, 20 seconds on the left side and 20 seconds on the right side.

Step seven:  get lowered down, get dressed, head home.

It typically took 15 minutes at the hospital and one hour total.  Everyone in the radiation oncology department are total pros and everything is run like a well-oiled machine.  They also could not be more pleasant, and I really got to know them after seeing them day in and day out.  I'll miss chatting with all of the nice people, but I won't miss having to go in every day.  That's radiation in a nutshell!

I'm back!

Well, a lot has happened since I last posted!  Apologies for such a long break (again).  The most important thing that has happened is the arrival of this precious little girl.

Clare Mary Gough was born February 15 at 9:13am, 7 pounds 2 ounces and 19 1/2 inches long.  She was delivered via scheduled induction 3 weeks early and her birth could not have gone more smoothly.  Inductions typically take about 12 hours and often end in a cesarean section, and thankfully my labor took about 8 1/2 hours and was quite pleasant once I got my epidural.  It was absolutely the best experience of my life.  Clare is perfect and healthy, and I am 100% biased, but so beautiful.  We are so blessed.

Hooked up to monitors to measure baby's heartbeat and my contractions.  Last shot of the pregnant belly!

Proud daddy with Clare, just minutes old

My happy little family

Clare's stats

Such a blessing

All ready to go home

She will be 9 weeks old tomorrow and I have no idea where the time has gone.  Though I have plenty of sleep deprived, bleary eyed, overwhelmed moments, I have never been happier and I have loved every second of being with her.  Being Clare's mom is what I was born to do.

Growing so fast!

The other big thing that has happened is the end of radiation -- woohoo!  I started 2 weeks after Clare was born and just finished today.  Compared to chemo, radiation was a breeze.  More than anything it was just inconvenient -- I went to the hospital every day, Monday through Friday.  Though it took less than a minute to actually receive the radiation, it took me about an hour each day, and longer on Tuesdays when I met with Dr. Small.  In the last couple of weeks I've been experiencing the unpleasant burns that come with radiation.  What was characterized as "like a sunburn" when I started is definitely worse than that, and covers my entire left breast and arm pit.  It's not pretty, and has ranged from a sore chafed feeling to what is now a deep, burning itch.  There are a couple of topical medications that would really help that I unfortunately can't use because I'm nursing Clare on the right side and they aren't safe for her.  Still, I would take radiation for 7 weeks over chemo any day.

Now that I'm done with radiation and still have a few weeks left of my maternity leave, I feel like I finally have my life back.  I'm thrilled to have nothing to do all day except hang out with Clare and enjoy every second I have with her before I have to head back to work.

So that's what I've been up to the last few months.  Now that I've caught up with things at home and am starting to get the hang of this whole being a mom thing, I promise to keep the old blog updated.  Believe it or not, I still have plenty to write about even though chemo and radiation are now a thing of the past.  Thanks for reading, and for all of your support and prayers through this whole journey.

Chemo, check

After a sizeable blog hiatus, I am happy to report that I am officially FINISHED with chemo!  I had round 4 last Wednesday and I finally have enough energy again to be ecstatic that I never (knock on wood) have to go through chemo again. 

Having gone through the previous 3 rounds,  thought I had this whole thing figured out and knew exactly what to expect.  I was wrong.  First, round 4 was the worst, by far.  Everything, from our time in the waiting room to getting blood drawn to the IV to the chemo itself went wrong.  It was a completely different experience from the first three, which were as pleasant as chemo can possibly be.  Second, this round completely knocked me on my heiney.  I was really optimistic that since I felt so good after round 3 that this last one would go as smoothly, but again, I was wrong. 

Here are some of the highlights of the ways in which #4 was very different from rounds 1-3.

1. We spent an extra 1 1/2 to 2 hours waiting with round 4.  Just waiting. 
2. I didn't get the same lake view room I had in rounds 1-3.  How spoiled am I that I was a little bummed out that I was "stuck" in one of the interior rooms without windows?  I still had it pretty good -- they were apparently pretty busy, so they almost had me out in the general area where about 4 patients share a cubby with recliners.  Again, I'm so spoiled that I liked having my VIP room.
3. The phlebotomist drew my blood from my elbow rather than my hand and left me with a nasty looking and sore bruise for a good week and a half.  I had the same phlebotomist each time (she is a sweetheart), so I have no idea why I had to get a bruise this time.  I even brought her cookies.
4. I didn't have the same nurse I've had since the beginning.  I was doing my best to stay positive even though Charlie and I were both a little cranky about how things had been going, but I was actually very upset.  I loved my other nurse.  She did such a good job of making me feel relaxed and comfortable.  I also felt like she listened to me when something didn't feel right. 
5. The IV went very, very wrong.  As in the nurse "made a mess" (who says that??) and I bled all over, and then wasn't sure if she was in the vein, which she explained is a problem because the chemo drugs can give a person a third degree burn if they leak outside the vein.  She was nice and all, but it didn't exactly instill a lot of confidence in her abilities.  Oh, and she was in the vein -- whew!
6. After the IV debacle, things went well again until the chemo "push."  My other nurse always asked me to tell her if it hurt, because that is an indication that the drugs were being pushed too fast.  When I told my new nurse that the push hurt, quite a bit, she said that it was because she was trying to do two at once and that, basically, I would have to just live with it.
7. After I told the nurse that the push hurt, my blood pressure dropped really low and I spent what felt like forever but was probably closer to 15 minutes fighting the urge to pass out.  The nurses finally decided that I should roll over onto my side and I started to feel better after about 10 minutes.  One of the nurses, who used to work in labor and delivery, said that the baby was likely in a position that was pressing on one of the big veins behind the baby.  That's all well and good, but my understanding is that this is only an issue when pregnant women lie on their backs, and I was sitting almost straight up when I started to feel faint.  I am 99% sure it had to do with the way the chemo was administered, but I bit my tongue because I was glad I was feeling better and just wanted to get it over with.  Oh, and my new nurse said that she thought I almost passed out becase a snuck a peek at all of the blood all over my had and the sheets from the IV. 
8. I had one good day after round 4 (Saturday) when I felt pretty good, and than I felt like I had been run over by a truck until this past Friday.  Even then, I could only make it at the office from 7am to 2pm and I was completely done.  We had a cocktail party last night and I was a little nervous we would have to send out a last minute text cancelling, but I felt pretty good most of the day and even made it till 1am.  Granted my back and feet were killing me by then (I kept meaning to sit down and put my feet up ...), but it was a great time and I'm more than a little proud that Charlie and I could pull it off.




We went to Lincoln Square for dinner with friends on my one good day.


9. I felt significanly more "fogginess" this time around.  My short term memory has been seriously impacted, so I'm doing my best to write everything down so things don't fall between the cracks.  
10. We took zero pictures!  Between the frustrations and drama we completely forgot to document my final trip to the chemo ward.  As silly as it sounds, I'm disappointed I have no pictures from my last day to look back on.  Then again, bleeding and almost passing out don't make for good memories.  I did find pictures from round 3 that I had forgotten about, though.

An awesome card I got from law school friends

Pre-chemo breakfast at the best breakfast place ever

 

Totally unnecessary, but a shot of Charlie's ridiculous french toast

Thumbs up for chemo being almost done!  And see that blanket?  My sister-in-law AND brother made it!  I have the pictures of my brother hard at work to prove it. 

I'm not ruling out having a few more not so good moments or days in the next couple of weeks until the drugs are out of my system, but I'm cautiously optimistic that the worst is over.

My sweet aunt made me a cancer cape that is signed with messages from the Walker side of my family.

I LOVED this!  Unfortunately I don't have any shots of me wearing it at the hospital :(

Because this ended up being a loooong post, I'm going to call it a day for now.  But keep an eye out for mor posts: losing my hair (finally!), one long "thankful" post, and reflections on my experience to date, to name a few.

Second round of chemo ... whew

Ok, so I know these posts are out of order, but first things first: chemo round two is over, which means I am halfway through!  This time was (obviously) a lot like the first, but it had a chaotic start -- I misread my appointment sheet and thought that we needed to be there by 11am, which is partly true.  Chemo started at 11am, but I needed to be there for labs and to meet with Dr. Gradishar by 9:30.  I discovered this little fact at approximately 9:20am.  Whoops!  We made it there about a half hour late, which definitely put things behind schedule. 

Dr. Gradishar said everything is going well and was happy to hear that everything is going well with Baby G.  The chemo itself went more quickly this time, probably because Lora didn't have to explain everything that was going on this time around.  Because we didn't get started until around noon my darling husband ran down to pick up some lunch for us.  Then we watched Perfect Couples, what used to be our favorite show until it was cancelled last spring (so sad!), until it was time to go. 

As much as I am really getting used to getting blood drawn and IVs put in, I am never going to enjoy it.  But then again I suppose no one really enjoys either one.  The routine was the same as the first one: IV hookup, anti-nausea meds, adriamycin (the scary red one), with cytoxin bringing up the rear.  I felt fine through all of it until the cytoxin; I can definitely feel that one right away.  I got that metallic/medicinal taste in my mouth right away and got that "zombie" feeling that I had after the first round, just not as bad.  We had to leave fairly quickly afterwards because we had our big 20-week ultrasound appointment right after, and there was no way we were going to miss that one!

Since chemo round 2 I've had lots of ups and downs.  I didn't feel as zombie-like as the first time, but I also went to bed just a couple of hours after we got home that evening.  My side effects, with the exception of the fatigue, have been much better this time around.  Almost no heartburn, no metallic taste, etc.  My sister came into town a few days later for the weekend, which was just what I needed (especially since Charlie was out of town for his brother Casey's bachelor party all weekend).  The big accomplishments of our weekend were going to my pre-natal yoga class followed by a quick cardio workout, going to the grocery store, and making dinner that night.  The rest of the weekend was full of lots of lounging and TLC on tv.

Looking back I have to wonder if I somehow overdid it over the weekend because I have been completely and totally exausted this week.  Like exhausted to the point where I had to lay down for a half hour after unloading the dishwasher.  I'm starting to feel like my energy levels are rebounding a bit, but I don't really see being a fully functioning human being this week.  Maybe next week ...

Despite how tired I've been feeling, I'm doing my best to be thankful that the rest of my symptoms are actually pretty great, and that overall I'm lucky to be doing so well.

More posts to come on Baby G's 20-week appointment, shaving my head, getting the wig, and, if I'm feeling up to it, the backstory on getting the wig. 

First round of chemo

I realize this is coming nearly two weeks after the fact, but I decided it was finally time to share my first chemo experience.  Chemo round #1 was September 28, and started bright and early at 8am, which I chose thinking I'd rather get it over first thing in the morning rather than having time to dread it.  As soon as Charlie and I pulled onto Lake Shore Drive and sat in traffic we both decided that making it downtown during the height of rushhour is not ideal ... luckily the rest of my appointments are well after the worst of the traffic AND will allow me to sleep in, which at this point is practically a necessity.

I didn't know much of what to expect going in.  I wanted to know just enough so that I wasn't totally blindsided, but not so much that I was really afraid of it.  The morning started with a blood test to make sure that my blood counts could handle the chemo attack.  I've never been a fan of blood tests, but it surprised me that the only time that morning where I had to fight back tears was during the blood test.  I think it's because I didn't know it was coming and because Charlie couldn't go back with me.  Luckily no tears were actually shed.

Once they processed the test and it came back ok, they took us back to my room.  That's right -- we had a private room, with a lake view, no less!  I was expecting to be in big room with many patients receiving chemo, so this was definitely the pleasant surprise of the morning.  To some, it may seem like a small thing, but I can't say enough good things about that room.  Flat screen TV with DVD player, wood floors, nice furniture ... Chemo can be such a negative experience that I absolutely appreciated a room that made me feel comfortable and at ease.

I have officially been handed over from my oncological surgeon, Dr. Seema Khan, to my oncologist, Dr. William Gradishar.  I loved Dr. Khan and her nurse, Kay.  Because most of my time will be spent with Dr. Gradishar's nurse, I was apprehensive that nurse Lora wouldn't be as fantastic as Kay was (because she really was fantastic).  Thankfully Lora is awesome!  She came in and explained everything that was going to happen, from the IV for fluids, anti-nausea meds, having to push through the Adriamycin, and the drip of Cytoxin.  She is very sweet, very funny, and was great about explaining everything to both me and Charlie.

We brought Charlie's laptop to watch movies (because we didn't know about the TV and DVD player already there) but forgot the movies, so we ended up watching old episodes of a funny show that we both love.  Mary Margaret told me that laughing during chemo helps with the side effects and though I can't really say if it did, it certainly helped pass the time and most of the time made me forget that I was getting an anti-tumor drug and an alkylating agent pumped through my veins.

Like I said, the Adriamycin was pushed through, which means that Lora sat there and slowly administered it through a needle into my IV line.  It's done this way because the "A" is pretty harsh, and needs to be closely watched to make sure that it doesn't irritate the vein or go in too quickly.  She had to stop 2 or 3 times because it started to essentially clog in my vein and because it was slightly painful.  It was somewhat distressing seeing her inject this bright red fluid into my hand, but I knew this beforehand, so it wasn't too jarring.

The rest of the morning really went very smoothly.  I was very, very glad to go home and nap for the better part of the afternoon, and later that evening felt like a complete zombie.  The next day I got up for about 45 minutes to eat breakfast, then spent the rest of the morning sleeping on the couch.  I managed to get up and meet Julie to pick out a wig, and was completely done for the day after that.  The bulk of Friday was also spent either sleeping or vegged out on the couch.


The Adriamycin push



Not enjoying the A

Lora setting up my Cytoxin drip



All hooked up



Crazy that all I had to show for chemo was a teensy little bandaid



Having an amazing husband is one of the many things I am thankful for



The part I think most people are curious about is the side effects.  Here is a rundown of the typical AC side effects and what I've experienced:

• Nausea: none.  We quickly picked up two anti-nausea prescriptions to use as needed.  I think I took one pill but then realized I wasn't really experiencing any nausea, which (especially after my rocky first trimester) I am very thankful for.
• Bright red pee: yep.  TMI?  Believe me, this is one of the tamer ones (see below).  The bright red "A" is filtered through the kidneys, and the first few times I went to the bathroom ranged from red to orange.  Bizarre!
• Metallic taste: just a little.  Charlie made me swedish pancakes on Thursday morning before he went to work and I asked him if they tasted metallic to him, which they didn't.  If this gets worse with subsequent rounds, they recommend using plastic utensils.
• Decreased appetite: yes.  Though it's somewhat better now, I definitely don't get as hungry as I used to.  Unfortunately, Baby G likes it much better when I eat every couple of hours, so if I forget to eat regularly, without fail I hit a wall and feel exhausted and sick to my stomach.  So even though the hunger signals don't seem to be making it from my stomach to my head, Baby G is good at reminding me to eat frequently, whether I want to or not.
• Heartburn: intermittent, but yes.  And it's not with the typical "trigger" foods like greasy or spicy foods.  Mine, strangely enough, is from fairly innocuous things, like water and apples.  Go figure!  I've consumed more Tums now than I did in my first trimester, but I'm grateful that it's not so bad that it keeps me up at night or that two Tums a couple of times a day can't fix.
• Dry mouth/sore gums/bleeding gums/mouth sores: I would say this is mild to moderate.  I'm not allowed to use your regular alcohol-containing Lysterine, so Charlie picked up some Biotene for me.  It's somewhat thicker than water, which grossed me out at first, but I'm pretty used to it now.  I'm much more careful about flossing and using mouthwash than I used to be because any sort of dental problem or infection can quickly become a major problem.  I'm also not supposed to eat or drink anything really citrusy, which can irritate an already sore mouth.
• Constipation: fake out, not going there! But this can be a side effect.
• Chemo brain: though this isn't an official side effect, I have definitely recognized that I am much more forgetful than normal. I'm trying to be better about writing things down and making calendar appointments in my phone to keep track of everything.
• Lowered blood counts: I suppose this isn't really a detectable side effect (for the most part), but I figured I'd include it because it is something I have to be very aware of.  I learned that my blood counts are lowest 7-10 days after chemo, which means I have to be very careful about what I do, such as avoiding crowds and sick people, and being very careful to get enough rest and wash my hands often.  I had a bit of a sore throat last week, but seem to have successfully avoided catching any bugs.
• Fatigue: oh yeah. I saved this for second-to-last because this has been by far the most overwhelming side effect.  Anyone is tired from a full day of work, but if I spend an entire day at the office, I am utterly exhausted when I get home.  I feel best when I sleep 10-11 hours a night and get a 1-3 hour nap in the afternoon.  Unfortunately this sleep schedule is not exactly conducive to working like I used to...  Luckily everyone at work as been incredibly understanding about the whole "I'm doing chemo and can't work like I used to" thing.
• Hair loss: not yet, but it's right around the corner.  This is probably the most recognized and dreaded of the side effects.  From the very beginning once I learned that I'd be receiving chemo, I've been preparing myself for losing my hair.  Unfortunately, as losing my hair is now just days away, I've realized that there is no good way to prepare one's self for hair loss, or at least any preparations I thought I had done for myself have not done me a lot of good.  The best thing I think I can do, which I have done since this whole jouney started, is make the best of it, which, for me, means laughing at it.  If I don't laugh at it, I'll become a sobbing, sorry mess.  Some women are lucky and don't lose their hair and I have to admit that a part of me has been hoping that I would be one of the lucky ones.  Unfortunately, Lora warned me that an achey or tingly scalp is an indication that hair loss will start in a day or two, and I started feeling both achey and tingly last night.  I'll say more about my wig and my experience trying on wigs in a separate post.

So that about sums up chemo round #1.  In a few ways it was better than expected, but overall it was a much more difficult experience than I thought it would be.  Just the fatigue alone is more overwhelming than I thought.  Apparently lots of pregnant women have an easier time with the side effects, and maybe I am one of those lucky ones since I seem to have skipped the nausea and the majority of the others have been very, very manageable, but since I'm constantly tired and my hair about to jump ship, I don't feel all that lucky.

I'm doing my best to remind myself that I AM, in fact, lucky and that I have a lot to be thankful about.  In the grand scheme of things, I know deep down that my cancer has ended up being one of the more "manageable" ones.  When I get out of my own head and take a look around, I am able to see that I really am blessed and that this truly is just a bump in the road.  There are many who have a much more difficult road.  I know that everyone knows someone affected by cancer, but please keep these very loved people in your prayers: Joe, Stacy, Jessica, and Angie's mom.

Happy Tuesday!

P.S. Chemo round #2 is the same day as Baby G's 20-week appointment!  Makes October 19 much more exciting :)

Updates and news!

I can't believe how long it's been since my last post ... over a month!  Sorry about that.  I don't know where the time went.

Things are progressing well with my treatment.  The last of the steri strips that covered the dissolvable stitches came off and the scars aren't too bad.  Don't get me wrong -- I don't love them and they're taking some getting used to, but they're each about 3 inches long and will fade and shrink with time.

I met with my oncologist, Dr. Gradishar, who came very highly recommended from several people.  It was a short and to the point meeting, but I was able to (finally!) figure out my chemo schedule, which had been my biggest concern up to that point.  We have several important weddings this fall as well as the holidays, which made planning a little tough.  My first round of chemo will be on Wednesday, September 28 at 8am.  I go every three weeks until my last round on Wednesday, November 30.  This schedule allows me to make all of the weddings and doesn't fall close to holidays.  So I'm a happy camper.

I haven't been to a wig shop yet.  I've gotten several good recommendations and I know that I need to go sometime in the next two weeks.  But once I go, that means that chemo is real and rapidly approaching.  True to my procrastinating nature it keeps getting put off.  Maybe next weekend ... The wig is a precaution since chemo affects everyone differently.  But I think the smartest thing to do is get the wig and count on my hair falling out so that in the off chance it doesn't, it will be the loveliest of surprises.

Speaking of lovely surprises, big news: we're having a baby!

Surprised?  Welcome to the club!  My blood pregnancy test on the day I was diagnosed (June 16) was negative, and a short 3 weeks later we found out I was 5 weeks pregnant.  As of yesterday, I am 15 weeks (or, in non-obstetrician terms, almost 4 months) pregnant.

Before you freak out (believe me, we, including both of our families, have done plenty of that), the chemo that I will be undergoing is okay during the second and third trimesters.  In case you're interested in reading a little more about it, here is an article on the topic that we found very, very reassuring:  http://houston.culturemap.com/newsdetail/06-14-11-when-breast-cancer-and-pregnancy-collide-groundbreaking-new-study-gives-more-hope-to-cancer-children/

We've waiting this long to officially share the news because we wanted to make sure that the baby is doing well and that everything is progressing normally, which it is.  We also wanted to talk to my oncologist and develop a game plan, which we have done.  As a general rule, chemo and radiation should happen within 10-12 weeks of each other.  For obvious reasons, my radiation will have to wait until Baby Gough makes his or his big entrace into the world.  BUT my doctors don't want to delay my chemo for fear that it will give the cancer time to do something sneaky, so from the beginning everyone has been operating under the assumption that Baby G will arrive several weeks early.  With my current chemo schedule, I will be 26 weeks along when I finish my last round of chemo.  Add 10 weeks to that and I will be 36 weeks -- not even full term.  As my high risk OB has told me, my delivery date is going to be a moving target.  They don't want to deliver any earlier than the have to, but they also don't want to give the cancer yet another chance to do something sneaky by delaying the radiation.  My official due date is March 6, but I would imagine the actual day will be sometime around Charlie's 28th birthday, February 20, but time will tell.

As I said, things are going really well.  My first trimester was rough, to say the least.  It's a good thing Charlie is a shoe in for the husband of the year award, because I couldn't even look at anything but Eggo waffles and Taco Bell bean burritos for about a month, couldn't stomach going to the grocery store or anywhere that smelled strange, and was basically confined to the well air-conditioned areas of our apartment.   He was so patient and supportive and always willing to run out and get me Sunny D or applesauce or whatever sounded good to me at the moment.  It's been a slow road back to eating normally, but I am thankfully finally feeling almost like myself.  I've had 5 ultrasounds so far and Baby G is growing just fine wth a strong heartbeat.  One upside of this, ahem, complicated situation is that I am getting plenty of attention from both of my OBs, regular and high risk, which means lots of ultrasounds :)

The moral of the story is that this baby is an incredible blessing.  Two days before finding out the big news I was agonizing about what to do (ask my friend Katie -- it dominated our twice-per-year meeting!).  IVF or no IVF, that was the question.  I knew what the ultimate answer was going to be, i.e., no IVF, but it certainly didn't make the possibility or even probability of never having children of my own any easier to accept.  With this baby, I've never so profoundly felt God's work in my life, and I am thankful every day for this little, tiny answer to a prayer I didn't even know I would have to say.

Charlie and I are both very, very excited about this baby.  And I hope this explains why we've both been somewhat absent in the last few months ... it's been tough keeping it a secret!

5 weeks -- there's a baby in there!

9 weeks -- baby took surgery like a champ

11 weeks -- starting to look more like a little person

11 weeks -- little legs sticking up

15 weeks -- hey, Baby G

15 weeks -- can't wait to meet you in about 5 months, baby



The day we got the big baby news



15 weeks (and new short pre-chemo 'do)





Post-op update

 I have to say, I am very, very relieved to be done with surgery!  And the GREAT news is that my pathology report came back and my lymph nodes showed no sign of cancer, and the margins were totally clear.  This means that 1) the cancer was confined to the tumor and didn't move on to any other place in my body, 2) I (more than likely) won't have to undergo a second type of chemo treatments (which I would have if there was lymph node involvement), and 3) they won't have to go back in to take more lymph nodes or take more tissue from the tumor area.  So it's the best possible result . . . a lot of prayers have paid off.

The surgery itself wasn't too bad.  I was a little nervous about it, but I kept telling myself that it was just a "procedure," so that it wasn't as daunting.  Charlie got up with me about 4:50am so that I could eat a light breakfast, and we stayed up until about 6am so that I could drink clear liquids for as long as possible.  We went back to bed but I doubt I got more than about 20 minutes of sleep.  We left for the hospital around 10am, checked in a few minutes before 11am and they came and got me right at 11am on the dot.  I changed into my very attractive hospital gown and booties, got my IV and the radioactive tracer injections and chatted with my mom, Charlie, and the parade of nurses and doctors who came in to check on me until a little after noon.  This IV was SO much better than my first one -- I need to request a comfortable hospital bed for my future IVs, because I think that was did the trick.

The anesthesiologist warned me that they weren't going to give me anything to relax me before going into surgery which is not exactly what I wanted to hear, but it ended up being kind of neat.  I joked with the anesthesia nurse on the way to the operating room and got a non-drugged up view of at least part of what goes on pre-surgery.  My name and birthdate were checked several times, they helped me onto the operating table,  put massage boots on my calves to keep my circulation going and prevent blood clots, and started getting my arms ready.  I'm sure they could tell I was nervous, so the anesthesia nurse was really nice and talked me through everything they were doing, and the surgery resident I met earlier reassuringly patted my arm a few times.  Before they knocked me out, I made sure to show everyone the "not me" Charlie wrote on my "good side," just to make sure everyone was on the same page, which got a good laugh.  Once they got me hooked up to the oxygen with the sedatives I was out like a light, and woke up in the recovery room.  The last thing I remember in the operating room was thanking everyone for taking such good care of me.

In the recovery room, the nurse went and got Charlie when I was awake and he helped me drink water and ginger ale.  I was already starving before surgery and couldn't get the thought of a turkey club sandwich out of my head, but for some reason all they give you in recovery is Satines and graham crackers.  Weird.  I stayed in the recovery room for about an hour before I felt ready to get up and change into my clothes and hit the road.  I was determined to walk down to the lobby, but that determination quickly waned when I got out of bed and I have a sneaking suspicion the nurses would have nothing of it.  I can't tell you much about the drive back to the Goughs' house because I slept on Charlie's lap the whole ride.

I had to leave the dressing on both incisions for a full 48 hours, which meant no showering, and Nurse Julie and Nurse Mary Margaret did not allow any cheating.  Now that the dressing is off, the incisions are both about 3" long and the stitches are covered by steri strips, which should fall off on their own in another week or so.

I have some numbness on the back of my arm (which is probably due to swelling in the lymph node area), some swelling and some pain/discomfort, but the biggest result of all of this is the fatigue.  I didn't expect it since I didn't have general anesthesia, but I am exhausted all the time.  Going back to work this week is definitely going to be a transition.

Through all of this, I have realized that I am so incredibly lucky.  No, I take that back.  Not lucky, blessed.  As Charlie's dad pointed out, ever since the diagnosis we've gotten nothing but good news.  On top of that, I have THE BEST family and friends.  The outpouring of love and support has been so humbling and ovewhelming and I can't begin to find the words to express just how much the prayers and kind words and sweet gifts mean to me.  Thank you.



Custom shirt from my sweet sister




Shirts my sister had made for my family in NM



Just in case!



Cute hospital gowns?  Not quite.



  

Being wheeled into the OR -- let's do this!

Recovery room
















A+ service (post-surgery) ... I vaguely remember asking to be fed grapes next.





Today is the day

Surgery day!  Don't let the exclamation point fool you -- I am not excited about this, but very, very ready to get this over with.  I am so glad that I decided to go with the lumpectomy because this way I have the benefit of being able to tell myself that it's not as much surgery as it is a procedure.  No general anesthesia, (hopefully) no heavy duty painkillers, no overnight stay in the hospital.  All good things! 

I had my 5am light breakfast and 6am clear liquids.  I check into 6th floor surgery unit at 11am and surgery is at 12:30pm.  Surgery itself will take 2 hours and I get 2 hours in the recovery room before heading home.  I don't know much of what to expect after surgery other than knowing that I'm going to be out of it, tired, and probably pretty uncomfortable.  Lucky for me I have Charlie, my mom, Julie and Mary Margaret to take extra good care of me.

Thanks everyone for your well wishes and prayers.  See you on the other side!

Special cookies from Christy and Caitlin

Another day, another blood test

On Friday I had not one, but two, blood draws.  Even after all of this, still not my favorite.  I went to Northwestern in the morning for a quick 2 vial blood draw and it was a piece of cake.  The phlebotomist chatted with me the whole time and kept me at ease and it was done before I knew it.  I went back in the afternoon for my second appointment without knowing it involved more blood.  And I mean more blood -- 6 big vials!  I was suprised I had any left when she was done with me.  Sometime during the 5th tube I started to not feel so good, and the 6th tube was no fun at all.  Thankfully Charlie was there to hold my hand and talk me through it.  One juice box and 4 ice packs (still no stickers!) later I felt better.  At least now I know what my feel-good limit is: 6 in one day or 4 at a time. 

I hope they have ice packs and juice boxes at the ready on Tuesday when I get my IV before surgery ...

#1: no problem

#2: problem.  Thank goodness for husbands and juice boxes.

There are few things Baskin Robbins rainbow sherbet won't fix!

Thanks Peggy and Barbara for the awesome stickers! 

I've got my own supply now -- thanks for nothing, hospital!

Medical updates

Today is July 7th, and surgery didn't happen today.  We decided it would be best to consult with a plastic surgeon before surgery to be able to fully consider the options.  Surgery is now scheduled for August 2. 

My plastic sugery consultation is July 14.  I keep going back and forth between the mastectomy + reconstruction and the lumpectomy.  Decisions, decisions.

The BIG good news, though, is ... NO GENE MUTATION!  Wahoo!  The BRCA mutation would have put me at a drastially higher risk of future breast cancer over time, and would have also meant that my family members would also have the possibility of that same high risk.  So now the double mastectomy is off the table (thank goodness) and we can sleep a little easier at night knowing that this whole thing is just a fluke.

I'm feeling a bit rebellious in response to the estrogen/progesterone-positive results from a week or two back -- I don't want to do the hormone therapy, and I'm also not so interested in chemo, either.  Charlie keeps reminding me that the most important objective for us right now is making sure that I'm ok.  We're just going to have to wait and see how this whole thing plays out.

Oh, and we also got our first "bill" today -- $4100 for the genetic test!  Luckily our amount was $0.  Gotta love good health insurance.  Now Charlie really can say that I'm expensive, even if we aren't picking up the bill for all of this.

Back to reality

Having cancer, as it turns out, is weird.  Especially when statistically you shouldn't have it.  When I was first diagnosed I just assumed I would take a leave of absence from work and it would consume the next few months of my life.  But I've learned that life goes on: I'm going to continue working as much as possible (my goal is to still make my billable hours requirement for the year!), cancer doesn't dominate most of my conversations, I still (am supposed) to work out, etc.  In a lot of ways it's easy to feel like life is totally normal, but going back to work this week has made me realize that in some ways my life is quite different.  I worked 6 hours yesterday instead of 12.  Today I was a nervous wreck in a deposition because I had to "ignore" a call from a number that I could only assume was from a hospital (it seems that all of the 312 numbers I don't recognize are all from hospitals these days).  I also got the receptor test results back today, so I was distracted all day thinking about the consequences.  The adjustment back to work has been tougher than I thought it would be, mostly because it never occurred to me there would be a transition back. 

So the test results ... from what I understand, whatever the tumor tests positive for is basically what is fueling the growth of the tumor.  They test for estrogen, progesterone, and something call Her2.  Mine tested positive for estrogen and progesterone and negative for Her2.  It turns out this is both good and bad; good because it means that there are well-established treatments for my particular type of tumor that are extremely effective and make recurrence/new cancer much less likely.  BUT those same treatments equal bad news for having a family.

I think I've handled this whole thing pretty well, in no small part because of my amazing supportive family and friends, but the prospect of possibly not having kids of my own is a scary one.  I likely won't meet with my oncologist until mid-August, but I'm looking forward to having a better understanding of what in the world all of this means!

Late night working/blogging in these cute socks I forgot I had :)

This is one of the favorite cards I've received ... I have a very crafty sister!

This is another favorite.  It recounted a very funny lunch involving a law school professor and a squirrel.  Laughing ensued.

Also, thanks to James Dougherty, computer extraordinaire, I think I've fixed the commenting problem.  Let me know if you still having problems.

Irish Wisdom

I noticed a plaque with this good ol' Irish wisdom while we were out with our friends Mike and Carolyn at our favorite Irish pub, O'Shaughnessy's on Friday.  I tend to be a worrier, so I like it.

There are only two things to worry about:

either you are well or you are sick.

If you are well, then there is nothing to worry about.

If you are sick, there are two things to worry about:

either you will get well or you will die.

If you get well, then there is nothing to worry about.

If you die, then there are two things to worry about:

either you will go to heaven or you will go to hell.

If you go to heaven, then there is nothing to worry about.

But if you go to hell, you'll be so busy shaking hands with your friends,

you won't have time to worry.

This has nothing to do with anything Irish, and but I think it falls within the "wisdom" category -- I've decided to start an anti-cancer diet.  This is still a work in progress, but here is day one:

Red wine!  According to the Mayo Clinic, "Antioxidants in red wine called polyphenols may help protect the lining of blood vessels in your heart."  http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/red-wine/HB00089.  If the Mayo Clinic says it, you know it's good ... it may not be cancer-specific, but I'll take it.  I'll keep you posted on how my, and consequently Charlie's, anti-cancer diet is coming as I figure it out. 
Charlie also took me out for a fancy-schmancy dinner to celebrate my birthday a few days early.  It was a delightful evening: a nice long walk to and from dinner, good wine/food/company, and we crossed paths with friends from law school and their brand new baby, Stella, on our way back.  Couldn't have asked for a better night.

Mussels for me

Lamb burger for Charlie (you can see the steam from my mussels!)

I hope you had a great weekend :)