It's been a while...

I'm sorry to those of who keeping checking here for updates.  I had a rough time with the surgeries, and I really didn't feel like posting anything.  The good news is I'm back to work and feeling pretty good.

Here's the scoop...
I developed an infection about two weeks after the first surgery, but I was able to rid myself of it with antibiotics and wound flushes.  I was going along okay, and the wound was mostly healed until one night I developed terrible chills, a fever, and incredible weakness.  The next day the doctor put me in the hospital and pumped IV antibiotics into me.  By the following day, he decided I wasn't going to get better if he didn't take out the tissue expander (the thing holding a place for my boob impant).  So that evening, I went under the knife again and came out with a size nothing on the left and my regular C on the right.  The expander was covered with infection.  Evidently, there was tiny hole in the alloderm (the covering over the expander), and the topical infection made its way into my body.  I was really bumbed for a few days, but I got over it.  Now I'm fine.  I almost wish he had taken both of them so I would at least be even.  I kinda' walk tilted to the right now...just kidding!  :-)  In a year or so, I may investigate getting an implant with another type of surgery.

So, where am I now?  In the home stretch!  I started my radiation treatments on Monday; the final leg in my treatment journey.  I'm zapped everyday for 35 workdays, and then I'm done.  Hopefully, there will be no cancer left when it's over.  After reading my last CT scan, the docs thought I had a couple lymph nodes with cancer left in them.  They said it was hard to tell since the CT was taken soon after surgery.  The pictures could be showing stuff other than cancer floating around.  It's okay - I'll get those evil bastards!  Every time the machine zaps, I fighters my fighters kicking cancer's ass!

Otherwise, I'm still tired most of the time, but not so tired I can't function.  I'm back to work doing mostly part time days.  I'm working back up to full time.  It's great to be out of my house and back to the land of the living (and the odd...this is NOAA, you know).  :-)

Charlotte has had a fantastic summer thanks to Grandma, Pop, and rest of the fam.  She's talking in sentences and asserting her independence.  She's also becomming quite an affectionate little girl and has developed a definite fondness for her stuffed animals, especially Ernie and Burt.

Several of you, who don't see me often, have asked me to post a picture with the short hair.  See below.  It's a picture my sister-in-law took of Charlotte and I on the beach in Delaware one evening before my second surgery.  I'm really loving the short (albeit gray!) hair (it's even shorter than when I was in high school!) and plan to keep a short style for a while.  What can you do when your oncologist walks into the room and exclaims, "You look 10 years younger with that hairstyle!"  Gotta keep it!

Love to you all!

In a holding pattern

So, far, it does look like I'm beating the "low to medium" odds of keeping the expander.  My doc seems fairly surprised, actually.  I have one stubborn spot on the incision line that is healing slowly, but at least it's healing.  Every time time I see the doc, he says "Monday (or Thursday, depending on the day of the week) will be the deciding day."  That mantra has seen me through one Monday and two Thursdays so far.  Ha ha ha!  At least he hasn't thrown me in the hospital yet.
I have to wait until the incision is completely healed before the doc can start expanding my boob.  I can't wait to see how he does it - I bet it's a riot!  I have a mental image of him vigorously pumping a bicycle pump up and down as my boob expands like a pool raft.  LOL!

Sometime after the expansion starts the radiation process.  But time is running out...we are supposed to leave for Hawaii (Kauai, exactly) on October 29th.  If we wait anymore than two weeks to start the expansion, our trip is history.  I thought I would finish the process in plenty of time to go to Hawaii.  Whaa, whaa, whaa (me crying like a baby)!!!

Other than going to the doc and taking care of my uncooperative boob, I've been spending a lot of time staring at the four walls.  I have gotten out of the house a little more this week (some shopping for Charlotte, a brief visit to the pool, lunch), and I've started some exercising again.  All I can do is walk and do the exercises to regain full use of my left arm.  I can't stretch it out completely above my head or down to the floor.  In reality, my whole body has become somewhat inflexible from laying and sitting around.  That kills me.  I hate having tight muscles.  I was no where near as flexible as I was as a teenager, but I was still doing ok pre-surgery.  I've also been spending lots of time with Charlotte.  :-)

And I'm not wearing my wig anymore.  I get some odd looks from people who don't realize short hair is back in style.  Really, it is.  I heard it on TV or read it on some inane website.  Hee hee hee.  I definitely have the salt and pepper look going.  My hair seems to be coming in much darker right now,with noticeable grey, and it's very soft like baby hair.  This is the first regrowth.  I've heard the hair often changes back to normal over time.  I actually like short hair, but I have a very small head.  It's not lumpy or oddly-shaped, but it's small for my body.  Maybe I just need to make my body smaller to match it.  :-)

Well, that didn't happen

What didn't happen?  I was a complete wuss and couldn't irrigate my wound.  I can give myself shots, but I can't clean out a gaping opening in my chest.  Imagine that?!  What are docs thinking, really?  There's a reason why a large percentage of the population decide not to become doctors or nurses.  The human body can be gross!  So, what did I do?  Called good ol' Kaiser Permanente and said, "No can do" and "Find me a nurse who can" and surprise, surprise, they did.  Another reason I love Kaiser... Aunt Betty, our family nurse (yes, she's a real nurse), said many insurance companies won't approve visits by a nurse or to a doctor's office to clean wounds if there is an able-bodied adult in the household who can do it.  That's nuts.  In my case, if this infection doesn't go away, the expander and alloderm have to be removed.  No implant for me.  I'll be left with a lump for the rest of my life.  I would say the stakes are pretty high for me, and a trained professional should be the one trying to help me save my boob.  What about someone trying to save a leg?  At least I can stuff one of Erik's socks in my bra for the next 60 years.  There's no hiding a missing leg.  Enough ranting...

It's been a hell of a week, and my sleep schedule is completely out of whack.  I took a 4 hour nap this afternoon, and I'm wide awake at 2:00AM.  I am tired, but I can't get comfortable to sleep.  Between muscle spasms, fever, chills, infection, and plain ol' pain, my body has had enough.  I'm on enough medication to finance Charlotte's education via the black market, but nothing is helping right now.  Speaking of medication...

I'm on the antibiotic, Augmentin, and of course, I have a visualization for the fight between the bacteria and and the Augmentin.  The drug is supposed to clean out the bacteria, right?  So, I visualize it as a team of maids, in French maid outfits, with feather dusters.  Only the dusters shoot lasers.  They wander around my boob, cleaning as the go, and when they find a bacteria blob, they shoot it with their laser-duster.  Not only does this visualization help me feel like I have power in this fight, it makes me laugh.  I told you...too many medications in my system...

The nurse who cleaned my wound last night in the after hours clinic told me I need to find things to make me laugh to help me get through this whole ordeal.  Between Charlotte, Erik, my family, my friends, and my own imagination, there's plenty of laughter ringing through my life.  ;-)

One step forward, two steps back

My recovery was going well for the better part of two weeks.  The first few days after surgery are a painful blur, but the pain lessened each day.  Last week, I was able to get out of the house and have lunch with friends.  And then it was Thursday night.  I developed severe muscle spasms in my neck and back, and Friday night I was in the after hours Kaiser clinic to get relief.  The initial relief came from the biggest needle I've seen in a long time (and I've seen many needles recently!).  I didn't care...the pain killer in that shot was wonderful.  By the time I left Kaiser, I didn't feel anything.  The next couple days were spent in a haze of muscle relaxers and Percoset.  I can see how people become addicted to them.  They put you in a calm other-worldly state.  Anyway, I digress...

The muscle pain went away, but then I never regained my energy.  Tuesday evening, I started to feel weak.  I didn't think much of it due to the amount of medication I was on.  I figured the drugs hadn't left my system yet.  I also started to feel much more pain in my breast, which I thought was odd given how well I felt last week.  Long story short- I have a significant infection in my breast.  I'm on antibiotics and have to flush the wound with peroxide and saline.  If the pain doesn't decrease by tomorrow morning, I go back on the table to have the expander and alloderm removed.  That means I can't receive an implant to match my remaining breast.  I may be able to receive an implant at a later date, but it will be small.

Part of me wants to get the expander and alloderm removed NOW.  I don't like the idea of having this kind of infection, and the damn thing hurts!  The other, more rational, part of me says to remain calm and try to save it.  If the expander and alloderm remain in my breast, I can get the implant in a year or so, and I will look normal.  Hence, I will feel more normal. <sigh>  Basically, I have to do what the doctor tells me and ride it out.  What will be, will be.

Whenever something like this happens, I make myself think about the good things going on right now.   Charlotte is with her grandma, pop, cousins, and aunts having a wonderful time and being spoiled.  :-)  Bea is laying at my feet looking oh so cute as she sleeps.  The sun is shining brightly today, and I'm in the air conditioning.  The heat will subside eventually, and I'll sit on my deck with a great book given to me by a friend. Erik was there for me yet again this morning keeping me positive and giving me a hand to hold.  <another sigh>  Things will get better.  

The bubble is secure.

I'm over my oncologist.  When I saw my surgeon  last week, he was much more positive.  No, it's not good that I still had cancer in my lymph nodes, but cancer was only in 2 out of 7 nodes (not 7 out of 7).

So, where am I now?  I'm still dealing with one disgusting drain that keeps pumping like an oil well.  Once that is removed, I'll feel more human.  I did wear a regular bra today instead of the giant post-op harness I had been wearing.  Oh, the simple pleasures of life.  :-)  I'll harness back up when I sleep tonight.  It's just easier. 

I'm starting to get used to seeing my post-op self.  It was a huge shock the first time I looked in the mirror.  It was the first time I cried since the week I was diagnosed.  I knew I wouldn't look pleasant, but you really don't know what it's like until you see it.  Plus, I've never had surgery where I could see the effect (wisdom don't count here).  I know in a year I will look much more normal.  It's just hard to see right now.  Each day makes everything better.

I'm over this and ready to get back to normal.  I'm more than a little tired of being home, and it's not comfortable to sleep.  This has led me to doing too much and becoming exhausted.  I'm going to take the next few days to recuperate.

At the moment, Charlotte is in her crib singing the "Happy Birthday" song to my sister-in-law's dog instead of sleeping.  She is definitely our daughter...night owl!  "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Sam-Sam, happy birthday to you!"  Ha ha ha ha!

And the bubble goes POP!

I was very happy on Monday with the pathology report.  Then I made the mistake of emailing my oncologist.  I told her how happy I was with the report, and then I asked a couple questions about it.  Unfortunately, she hadn't received the report yet, and I think she was peeved that I had seen it first.  She told me it didn't matter that the tumor in my breast was gone, and it was not good news that cancer was found in two of the seven lymph nodes.  What the hell?  I was shocked.  And, of course, it was like midnight when I looked at the email, which didn't help at all.  I was up most of the night up thinking about it.  I've come to the conclusion that there was some "stuff" under her comments, and I'm not going to let it set me back.  I'm going see my surgeon, Dr. Phil, tomorrow, and I know he'll give me the information without any baggage.  Tune in tomorrow for more info.

Back to a first down!

So here I sit, upright and conscious, in my sunny family room.  Bea Dog is at my feet, and Erik is working in the dining room.  I just sat down from a 20 minute walk.  Not so bad for being four days out of surgery, huh?

I went to Holy Cross Hospital Friday morning at O'Damn Dark Hundred (6:00AM to early risers).  Everyone was so nice and pleasant.  I guess they can't help being nice to a 41 year old woman about to have her left boob chopped off.  LOL!  Seriously, all the medical staff I've encountered during this entire ordeal have been pleasant.  The prep nurses ask a million questions, the most odd (to me) is whether I've been mentally or physically abused by a partner or caregiver.  I usually chuckle at that one because it's inconceivable to me.  Anyway...I overheard another nurse asking a woman, who had come in alone, the same question, and she said, "yes."  I was astounded.  I couldn't get her response out of my head.  Soon after I woke up from surgery, I asked my nurse what help that woman would receive.  I prayed and asked Him to walk with her and protect her.  I know it happens to many woman. Somehow, in my emotionally compromised state, it hit me hard.  Basically, that was the hardest part of surgery...it still bugs me.  Anyway...

As their about to wheel me away, the anesthesiologist put something in my IV to help me relax.  Oh yeah!  I remember rolling by my surgeon and the other staff as they were scrubbing up, and I blabbed something like, "Don't screw this up dudes!"  They rolled me into a frigid operating theater (germs hate the cold and so do I).  I remember looking up at the lights thinking how cool the shapes were - like art.  I saw an oxygen mask come down over my face, and I was out.

I woke up from surgery feeling like I was hit both ways by the round trip Express bus from Discomfort to Pain.  I think my eyelashes even hurt.  I wasn't nauseous, but...well...you can imagine.  Not pleasant.  Erik, Marjo (his mom), and Aunt Betty were there.  And that's about all I remember from the first 24 hours.  I know my lovely cousin Melanie came to see me, and I send my apologies to her for anything wacky/inappropriate I said during her visit.  And, oh yeah, for also throwing up in front of her.  Sorry, Mel!

I had a decent nurse when I was placed in my room, but Maria, my overnight nurse, was terrific.  Don't get me started on the third nurse.  Of course, the best nurse of all was Aunt Betty (who is actually a nurse) who stayed with Erik and I for a couple days.  She and Erik made sure I took my meds, gave myself me shot of blood thinner in my stomach (ugh!), and took care of my drains.  Oh, the drains...for any Star Trek fans out there...I look like the Borg Queen before she's placed in her body.  The only difference is the tubes are all on my left side.  I guess I also have a bit more hair now than she did.  LOL!

Back to the present...

I had an appointment this morning with the surgeon's physician's assistant.  Excellent clinician.  She removed one of the three drains, looked at my mangled left chest (which actually doesn't look like the bad horror film makeup job I thought it would), and pronounced me in good shape.  No problems with the surgery sites.  I have numbness in my arm and hand and crazy charlie horses all around my body, but otherwise I'm a-OK. 

I also received the pathology report from the surgery.  I had no sign of a tumor in my breast - all GONE!  My Fightin' Women did their jobs there!  Seven lymph nodes were removed from under my arm, and two still showed signs of cancer.  However, there was no sign of cancer in the fat tissue around the nodes, which is very good.  Most likely there was no movement to any other part of my body and a significant decrease in size of what was left.  So, instead being an A+ patient, I'm an A patient.  Se la vie.  ;-) 

Where to we go from here?  Forward!  I actually feel like a human being again today.  Erik and I stopped for lunch on our way home from the doc, and I walked outside for about 20 minutes when we returned home.  Feeling much better.  I've decreased my pain meds from two Percoset ever four hours to one Percoset and one Tylenol every six to eight hours.  I've also had a little ibuprofen here and there for muscle aches.  My body unconsciously tenses my shoulder and back muscles with pain.  But I don't have much pain anymore.  And I have had THE wackiest dreams...Jennifer - You and Andre now skydive as a regular means of transportation, and a colleague in the Florida Keys rescued me from a pink, 1970s, Hello Kitty tricked out van.  OMG!  Hysterical!

Thanks to everyone for the love and support and flowers and food and shopping spree and help you give!  Thanks to my wonderful husband (Everyone needs an Edgar.) who constantly reminds me that it is what it is, and we'll come out just fine on the other side.  Thanks for my wonderful family who have swept Charlotte up in their love and care so Erik and I could focus on getting through this.

And why "Back to first down"?  The first drive down the field toward the goal was the chemo.  Made it through just fine.  The second first down drive was the surgery.  Made forward progress and just got the 10.  The third first down drive is the radiation.  The last drive will be the next 2-5 years.  Life, like football, is a game of inches.  As Al Pacino said, in Any Given Sunday, "On this team, we fight for that inch.  On this team, we tear ourselves, and everyone around us to pieces for that inch.  We CLAW with our finger nails for that inch.  Cause we know when we add up all those inches that's going to make the fucking difference
between WINNING and LOSING between LIVING and DYING."
Amen!

Al's speech www.youtube.com/watch?v=WO4tIrjBDkk

Long time

Wow, it's been a long time since I've posted anything.  My apologies to those of you who keep checking and have found no new entries.

I'm doing well.  My last chemo was April 21st and, and while it's been a long uphill climb since then, I'm finally back to feeling good.  I've been on the treadmill a couple times this week, and I've lost a couple pounds.  My stress eating has stopped, and I have more energy.

I had testing for the BRCA I and BRCA II genes, the ones identified to cause breast and ovarian cancer, and I was negative!  So, no one knows why I got cancer at age 40.  Shocker, to quote my wonderful husband.  I've heard everything in your body starts to fall apart at 40.  LOL!  I certainly didn't expect this.

I'm off to see the plastic surgeon tomorrow ("I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of boobs..."), and I hope to come away with a date for my mastectomy.  I'm tired of waiting. Now that I'm not so fuzzy-brained, I'm back to my 'want it done yesterday' self.  I also think that also comes from moving beyond being scared.

I'm really proud of my body, and how it has taken the chemo and kicked the h-e-!-! out of the tumor.  While I'm not out of the woods yet, I can see the field in the distance.  I feel powerful and happy.

Wow... I was just overcome by a vivid memory when I wrote the above.  I used to go hunting for deer, pheasant, and quail with my dad (I never killed anything and would never let him either. After a while, he started bringing his camera too since I wouldn't let him shoot anything).  We would tramp through the woods or the cornfield to find the perfect spot to sit and wait for deer, etc.  I just had a vision of walking out of the woods that ringed the cornfield on one of the farms where we hunted.  It's making me teary-eyed, but in a very good way.  Those time with my dad were some of my favorites.  Anyway... 

So, my plan is to have surgery soon, recover for 4-6 weeks, and then have seven weeks of radiation.  Hopefully, my plan is the docs' plan, and my body cooperates.  I'll have radiation treatments every work day, for about 40 minutes, at an office close to home and work.  The primary side effects of radiation are sun burned/blistered skin and tiredness.  I'm hoping to avoid the latter.  I'm done with being tired.  I'm so ready, mentally, to move on.

So then what?  Well, to keep The Evil from coming back, I'll most likely take Tamoxifen everyday and implement a variety of changes - exercise most days of the week, up the intake of veggies and lessen the intake of sugar (yes, you heard me right, Molly has to stop the chocolate), take my vitamins, take a low-dose aspirin, do the hokey pokey and turn myself around...  :-)  While it may seems like a lot to do (does to me at times), it will be so worth it.  I'm not doing this again. 

So that's it for me.  Erik and I are celebrating our 16th wedding anniversary tonight.  I view every birthday and anniversary with more excitement than I did BC (before cancer).  I got it good!

Charlotte is growing and changing like crazy.  She has a huge vocabulary and now refers to our home as "my house."  And she's not wrong.  ;-)

Another week to wait

Jane, my wonderful oncology nurse, called me today.  She usually calls the day before my chemo appointment to tell me how wonderful my "numbers" are from my blood test and to remind me to show up on time for chemo.  Today, she said my white blood count was very low, and I would have to wait a week for my last chemo session.  Oddly, I'm disappointed.

Why am I disappointed, you ask?  Because my otherwise perfect recovery is now tainted, and I am, once again, reminded I'm not Wonder Woman.  I wish I knew why I have this drive to be perfect at everything.  And why on Earth do I feel the need to be the perfect cancer patient.  And what the hell does that even mean?  I have cancer for Pete's sake!  (Who IS Pete anyway?)  I should be happy I haven't spend the last 14 weeks puking up my guts.  And don't get me wrong, I'm very happy and grateful about how I've fared in the whole process and the wonderful support I've received.  I just can't wrap my head around this feeling.  Crazy!

Today a group of my favorite people at work threw a "Congratulations!  Tomorrow is your last day of chemo" party for me.  It was wonderful!!!  As I told my boss, it's my first ever surprise party.  Even with all the hints I had, I still didn't have a clue my budget meeting was going to consist of great people, fabulous cupcakes, pink and white M&Ms, and presents.  You think I would have figured something was up when I saw "Harrison, et al re: Budget" on my boss's calendar and was told, "It must be another Harrison" by one person and "It must be a mistake.  His calendar says, 'Hold' at that time" by another person.  I'm the only Harrison I know who hits him up for money.  LOL!  Didn't even phase me.  Jennifer, you can thank my chemo brain.  That and knowing how ahead of the game you are on stuff made me not even think twice about an early budget meeting.  ;-)

And so, after writing the previous paragraph, I have to laugh at the one before it.  I have such wonderful people in my life who like me just the way I am and don't expect me to walk into work sporting a weird semi-bikini outfit, blue cape and boots, and a star tiara.  I do like Wonder Woman's bullet-repelling bracelets, however, and may have to snag a pair of those to go with my work uniform of turtlenecks and plaid pants.  ;-)

Where are they now?

So, where is that damned tumor and those infected lymph nodes now?  Not anywhere anyone can feel.  Woo hoo!  I'm sure there is something there, but I'll need scans to find it.  Much better than the big-ass "stuff" that was there before.

Seven chemo treatments down and 1 more to go.  These 13 weeks have certainly passed quickly.  I tell ya', even with all my positive thinking, eight chemo treatments seemed like a helluva lot to go through in the beginning.  Time has been reduced to two week increments and "good" days and "bad" days.  For the first time in my life, I'm taking things one day at a time - definitely a weird paradigm shift.  No more wishing it was tomorrow, or two weeks from now, or vacation time, or Christmas, or whatever.  Waking up today is enough.

The second chemo "medicine" is treating me fairly well except for the joint and muscle pain I have for a couple days afterward.  I've graduated to Tylenol 3+codeine to manage it.  The last time I took anything that strong I was 16 and had 4 wisdom teeth pulled.  I was also skin and bones and immobilized by one tablet.  LOL!  I'm also dealing with some neuropathy (numbness) in my feet.  However, I don't plan to walk on any hot coals anytime soon.  :-)

There are still plenty of days when I feel like hell.  There.  I've said it...admitted it "out loud."  The days I'm in pain are easy to see, but the other days I keep hidden from everyone.  Anyone who has dealt with a life threatening condition knows what I mean.  It's a deep, deep feeling you can't even share with your significant other or your best friends.  You've looked on the other side, and it stays with you.  I now know what my mom and dad dealt with when they were sick.  I don't feel sorry for myself.  I do continue to kick myself for thinking it could never happen to me.  How could I have been so arrogant?  I totally let this one sideswipe me.  I'm generally not a person who gets mired in regret, but this is going to sit with me for a while.

I've watched a lot of TV lately, and I've seen Matt Lauer ask Michael Douglas how cancer has changed him.  Every time I see it, I ask myself the same question.  It's too early to tell, really.  I feel differently about a few things, but I'm not sure if those will stick with me over time.  I did start to get spun up about something work-related on Friday, and I told myself to stop being stupid.  It worked.  First time ever.  I was the queen of making mountains out of mole hills and obsessing over crap.  Boggles my mind now.

OK - I'm done philosophizing.  ;-)  Talk to y'all real soon.

P.S.  I just ran spell check on this post, and the only word caught in the first paragraph was the "hoo" of "woo hoo."  Why "hoo?"  Why not "woo" too?  Is "woo" a word, but "hoo" isn't?  I feel like I'm in a Dr. Seuss book...

Has it been that long?

It's been a while since I posted anything...time truly flies.  I'm sure you're all anxiously awaiting my latest words of wisdom, aren't you.  ;-)  LOL!

In actuality, time does fly when you measure it in two week intervals like I have been since the first week in January.  And every two weeks is different.  So, where am I in this process?  I just finished chemo treatment number 6.  This is the second treatment in the second medicine/poison regime (Taxol).  Last time, I had significant muscle and joint aches starting the afternoon of the Saturday after chemo.  Here it is Saturday evening after the second treatment, and I'm relatively ok.  I can feel the aches starting, but it's definitely better.

And that's how the process is going...definitely better.  The tumor is smaller, and the lymph nodes are almost all back to normal.  I'll end chemo in mid-April, and the best outcome is to have all the tumor and the lymph nodes gone. 

Thanks to everyone for all the positive energy coming my way.  I can't say enough how lucky I've been to have everyone behind me.  You truly find out who your friends are in times like this.

Love that hair!

My nephew, Devin, tried on my wig this past weekend.  Below is the result.  Makes me smile every time I look at the picture.  Thanks, Dev!

Another one bites the dust...

Chemo round four is in the books.  My brain feels a little fuzzy, and I'm fighting photosensitivity.  But, overall, I'm great.  Rounds 4-8 are with a different medication, which supposedly has fewer side effects.  I don't know how I can have fewer than I do right now.  Supposedly, the tiredness will dissipate faster. 

Good news from the doc...everything has shrunken over 50%!  She wasn't even sure what she was feeling under my arm was a lymph node - thought it could be the tendon.  Whooppeee!  She said the desired outcome was to rid the lymph nodes of the cancer.  Whatever is left of the lump in my breast could be calcifications and/or scar tissue.  No one will know until the surgeon removes it.  And on that note, I'm definitely having the left breast removed and reconstructed.  They'll need to do a little lift on Ms. Righty if Ms. Lefty is going to be more perky as a faux boob.  LOL! 

Otherwise, all is well.  Charlotte is doing terrifically and getting taller by the day.  I don't think there's a word she can't say.  She's stubborn.  She'll say, "thank you," but not "please."  She won't say her Aunt Shannon's name, "Shani," when she's with Shannon.  She'll say it 14 times in a row at home.  I guess she wouldn't be our daughter without a stubborn streak.  :-)

Below is a picture of a female warrior drawn by a colleague of mine.  It's hanging in my office where I can gaze upon her and gather strength every day. 

Love to you all!

Bald and wigged

Took down another heart...

A wonderful woman with whom I work, hung six hearts in my office after my second chemo treatment - one for each treatment I had left.  On Friday, I took down number six.  Five more to go! 

Feeling good, but starting to feel the tiredness creeping in.  It's going to be a slow day.  I'll most likely go to work tomorrow, but I'll stay home on Tuesday when the white blood cell boosting shots kick in.  My joints feel like they're 100 years old.  Small price to pay for shrinking tumors compared to what others have to go through.

So, I'm trying to type this blog, and Charlotte is turning into a computer button pushing octopus!  Now she has my phone.  Who knows if I'll be able to undo the settings.  LOL!  I don't know if other moms experience this, but anytime Erik or I are on the computer, Charlotte is right there pushing buttons and wanting to play with it.  She can also spot a cell phone from across a crowded room!  I did a paper in grad school on "digital natives."  There's a theory that kids growing up today are "digital natives" and have to be taught in ways that enhance those skills because that's the way they will learn as adults.  (I'm trying to get another master's in adult learning and training.)  After watching Charlotte, I wholeheartedly agree.  As an adult, she'll need training in a different manner than we receive/d it.

Okay, my alloted blog writing time is coming to an end.  Charlotte is wanting to "walka walka."  Mom duty never ends, which isn't a bad thing at all.  :-)

Top 10

Top Ten Reasons Loosing My Hair Isn’t So Bad After All

(in no particular order, except for #1)

10. No blow dryer, conditioner, curl serum, curl cream, hairbrush, comb, headbands, ponytail ties, clips, etc. = more room in the bathroom.

9.  Instant air conditioning when I work out

8.  No haircuts and highlighting = Significant financial windfall in 2011

7.  No more hair all over the house

6.  Hats, hats, hats!

5.  Get to experience straight hair without putting toxic <bleep> on my hair to straighten my curls

4.  Answers the question: What would l look like bald?

3.  Don’t look too bad

2.  Will finally know my real adult hair color when my hair grows back

1.  Charlotte giggles like crazy when she rubs the top of my head.  J

My favorite poem

My mom gave this poem to me years and years ago, and it has hung over my desk at work ever since.

A PSALM OF LIFE

WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN
                    SAID TO THE PSALMIST

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
        Life is but an empty dream! —
    For the soul is dead that slumbers,
        And things are not what they seem.

Life is real!  Life is earnest!
        And the grave is not its goal;
    Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
        Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
        Is our destined end or way;
    But to act, that each to-morrow
        Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
        And our hearts, though stout and brave,
    Still, like muffled drums, are beating
        Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
        In the bivouac of Life,
    Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
        Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
        Let the dead Past bury its dead!
    Act,— act in the living Present!
        Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
        We can make our lives sublime,
    And, departing, leave behind us
        Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
        Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
    A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
        Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
        With a heart for any fate;
    Still achieving, still pursuing,
        Learn to labor and to wait.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

Chemo Round 2 in the books

Thursday was my second chemo treatment, and I'm still feeling good.  The tiredness is creeping in slowly, which is to be expected.  I started the neupogen shots tonight, and they'll make me feel a little weird in a day or two.  They're to boost my white blood cell production.  Forgive me if I've said that before.  I don't go back and reread my posts.  Moving on to today and tomorrow...  ;-)

I did get some good news at the doctor's visit.  The tumor is smaller, the lymph nodes are smaller, and the texture of my breast is changing for the better.  Not so much of a spider web feeling.  Honestly, I'm not exactly sure what the last thing means, but the doc was happy, so I'm happy.  I'm not an "ignorance is bliss" kind of person, but in the case of my breast cancer, my brain only holds so much at a time.  Coping mechanism, I think.

So, now my hair is falling out.  It's weird and oddly liberating at the same time.  No $250 trips to the salon for cutting, highlighting, etc. for another year or so.  I'm saving all the money to take a fabulous trip.  Erik already booked our celebratory trip to Kauai for the end of October.  What a wonderful husband I have!

Anyway, back to the hair.  I recently read a couple articles about a treatment other women chemo warriors are doing where they freeze these head-shaped cold packs to this ungodly low temperature and then wear them all day long on the chemo day.  It does seem to save their hair.  But, really?  I hate the cold.  It's bad enough having to chew ice during chemo (to prevent mouth sores).  I would NEVER get warm again if I had to wear that head thing.  I understand the reasoning...you can't control a damn thing about this process.  Working to save your hair gives you some control.  But I do feel like I have control...I will decide when I shave my head (maybe tomorrow), and I picked out a fun wig.  If anyone reading this blog ever goes through this, heaven forbid, don't let your hair define you.  We spend tons of money altering our God-given hair anyway...spend another $350 on a wig, which your insurance will most likely reimburse, and get a no fuss new do

Getting back to the shrinking tumors, I strongly believe my visualizations help.  Erik talked a lot about visualization when he was swimming for A.U.  You visualize yourself going through the correct motions and winning.  I know my Body Ninjas, Celtic Chemo Gals, and Cherokee Healers are a bit hokey, but they help me put a face on the fight.  Those ladies are doing some serious battling and are winning.  It's like a video game/movie in my head.  Erik played a series of video games, Myst, with very awesome graphics and stories.  So my visualizations are a cross between Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, The Lord of the Rings, and the mystic healers from Myst in a kinda' graphic novel style, if that makes ANY sense at all.  ha ha ha!  Anyway, I close my eyes and visualize the battle.  I highly suggest visualization for anything.  It helped me to loose weight, precancer, too.  Lucky me, the anti-nausea meds can spur hunger.  On that note...I'll say good night.  Thanks to all who are following me on the journey.

No quote tonight.  However, just a reminder that the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure is coming up on Saturday, June 4.  I'll be there unless surgery interferes.  It's a 5K, but I'm walking.  This body is not going to be ready to run anywhere, I don't believe.  LOL.  I'll post the info for joining the team closer to the date.  There's also an option to "Sleep in for the Cure."  You pay the fee, and they send a t-shirt to you.  Genius idea, if you think about it.

Wiggin' Out

Well, not really.  I just thought it was a fun title for this posting.  :-)

Speaking of wigs...I went to Amy's of Denmark ( a unique name for a wig shop), and I actually purchased a wig.  I was only doing reconnaissance, but I found a cute one.  Completely different from my hair - it's stick straight with straight bangs.  Amy's mostly works with cancer patients, so they're very knowledgeable about the process of chemo hair loss.  If I'm going to loose my hair, it should start within the next week.  I say, "If" because I'm trying to stay positive.  Now, I'm not deluding myself...the vast majority of women loose their hair.  But maybe my good luck will continue.  Anyway, I had planned to try on lots of wigs and see what I looked like, but when I got there I just decided to do it.  If I do loose my hair, I have to go back to Amy's for them to shave my head and fit the wig again.  Maybe I'll take Erik with me and let him loose with the camera.  Ha ha!

I'm planning to go bald as much as possible...we'll see if I follow through on that.  It's been so friggin' cold outside!  Potentially serious brain freeze!  It's been a long time since I had short, short hair, and now I'm looking at no hair in the winter.  I was recently given a great bright pink ski cap and a gorgeous pink scarf that I will proudly wear.   Maybe I'll offer up my bald head to the Caps to rub for good luck.  ;-)

So, tomorrow is chemo round 2.  The Body Ninjas are getting Chemo Gal reinforcements, and the Healers are getting additional supplies.  I've been a little apprehensive about it - last time went well and I never felt really bad.  I guess I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Will I have a rougher time with this treatment?  I will answer that with a resounding, "NO!" 

Last time I went for treatment, I took a few things with me to feel strong: my original wedding band (Erik's given me several rings I wear as a wedding bands.), my mother's engagement ring, my dad's last watch, and my cowboy boots (my "shit kickers" LOL!).  Before I went, my dad's watch didn't run, and it hasn't run for years.  When I returned home from treatment, it was running.  It may mean absolutely nothing, but it's cool.  :-)  I'll be taking the same things with me tomorrow. 

Quote of the moment (thanks Stevie Nicks!): The clouds never expect it, when it rains, but the sea changes colours, but the sea does not change...

Whoops! Spoke too soon.

So...I was getting a little cocky and thinking, "I can handle this chemo thing" and then WHAM!  I was knocked cold on Tuesday - four days after the fact.  I couldn't move.  All I could do is roll over and go back to sleep.  I think I did manage to stuff my pie hole once, but that was it.  For those moms out there...you remember that whole body tired feeling you get when you're first pregnant?  Multiply that times 10.  Yep...that's it.  But...I made it to work yesterday and again today, so I think I'm doing fine.  Scraping the ice off the car today was tough.  Yikes - gotta get back on the treadmill!  I know it could be much worse.  It really just makes me laugh.  Just when you think you're holding it together, the universe throws a curve ball.  Keeps me humble, I guess.  ;-)  That and the seven pounds I've gained in a week.  Erik's going to have to bounce me to work like Violet Beauregarde in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

On a bright note, Charlotte learned to say, "Awesome!"  I have to record it and post it somewhere to share.  It's so darn cute!  She says it with such aplomb, like, "Yes!  I am the most awesome kid in the world!"  Thanks to the TV for teaching her that nugget.  LOL!  She's learning words like crazy, and her walking is getting much better.  Every day is truly and adventure.

Speaking of adventure...the NOAA parking garage in winter???!!  People are crazed.  I literally sat in my car, in line, for five minutes this morning because no one would move.  The cars were too close together for people to pull into spots, but they would not give them up.  Thanks to one wonderful soul, we finally moved.  Stuff like that used to get my undies in a bundle, but now I just laugh.  

Quote of the moment: I meant to post this some time ago - passed to me by a dear colleague - another wonderful Churchillism:  We shall draw from the heart of suffering itself the means of inspiration and survival.

Day 3 with the Celtic Chemo Gals and the Cherokees

I had my first chemo treatment on Thursday, and it went much better than I thought it would.  Supposedly, they get worse as you along, but at least I survived it.  One down, 7 more to go.  I felt fuzzy headed, tired, and had a headache.  Afterward, Erik and I went shopping at Target.  Nothing a little Target can't heal.  :-)  When we got home, I walked a couple miles on the treadmill, which helped too.

So, I felt good on Friday.  I could have gone to work, but the nurses all said to wait.  You never know when it will hit you, they said.  I logged another couple miles on the treadmill, and vegged the rest of the evning.

Now it's Saturday evening, and we're watching the Seahawks v. Saints.  Today was good.  Tired, but more or less fine.  Spent lots of time with Charlotte and did a tiny bit of cleaning.  Our wonderful friends just brought over dinner.  No wonder people gain weight when they have cancer - everyone wants to feed them!  I'm definitely NOT complaining.  LOL!  I would love to be at a friends' "Don't Let the Season End" party, but my social butterfly wings are at the cleaners today.

You're probably wondering about the Celtic Chemo Gals and Cherokees.  They have joined my Body Ninjas in the fight.  I'm Scots-Irish, with a touch of Native American, so I thought my new fighters should be Celts.  I start the injections tonight to force my white blood cells to produce, so those are my Cherokee Medicine Women.  It helps me visualize all the healing going on if I give the drugs and blood cells and all that good stuff an identity.  I sit quietly and feel the fight inside me.  I also visualize the healing when I'm working out.  Led Zepplin, .38 Special, and Jimmy Buffet have been the latest soundtrack.  Yes, you can dance to .38 Special, but it's nothing to take out in public.  :-)

So I'm off to eat a wonderful dinner and hang out on the couch watching a night of football.  Hopeful the other shoe doesn't drop tomorrow...

Body Ninjas, The Force, and Family

Last Thursday, the 30^th, I had my port installed at Holy Cross Hospital.  I love that place…good people watching of the American melting pot.  I could sit in the lobby and watch the visitors and patients all day.  It’s a good reminder that we’re all people, no matter the color of our skin or our income, and we all get sick.  Illness can be a great equalizer and coalescing force.

Anyway, the port the doc installed provides direct access to the bloodstream so the chemo drugs can get right to work.  My Body Ninjas, as I’ve nicknamed them, need all the help they can get.  They make up my immune system, and they’re already fighting the good fight against the cancer.  Funny the things you come up with when you’re faced with crap like this.  I was walking on the treadmill and needed to personify those little fighters.  Hence, the Body Ninjas were born around mile 3.

So, I start chemo the day after tomorrow, and the closer it gets, the more anxious I am.  Don’t get me wrong…I’m sooooo ready to start the fight.  I just don’t know if I’m ready for the way this is going to affect my family.  I know I can handle the side effects, but I just hate the fact it will impact Erik, Charlotte, and the rest of the Harrison/Stoltze clan.  They’re a tough bunch, but I hate to another stressor to their mix.  I tell them not to worry about me…I’ll be fine, which I will, but I know they do.  I also know without my wonderful husband, adorable daughter, and family I wouldn’t be able to have such a strong attitude.  My thanks to you all.

When I arrived at work this morning, I had a beautiful gift on my desk from a fellow cancer survivor (I already consider myself a survivor).  It moved me to tears – the timing was just right.  I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning.  I was exhausted and didn’t know why.  After a bit of contemplation, I realized it’s probably the stress of waiting for chemo to start.  Then a couple hours into the morning, I received a great book from another survivor.  It really is a sisterhood.  No one can understand it unless you’ve been there.  Although I’m holding it together, it’s such a comfort to know other women are there to prop me up if needed.  I’m going to call my survivor friends, The Force.  You know, in the tradition of “may the force be with you.”  Because it is truly the force of will that gets us through these difficult times.

Quote of the moment: Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway   -John Wayne

(I can't say I'm "scared" exactly, but you know what I mean).