Update....

I apologize for taking so long to update my blog. I have been slacking! Here is what I have been up to the past couple of weeks:

School started. I spent the the first day of class explaining to my classes that I have cancer, explaining that it is not contagious, and that I plan to be at school as often as possible. Of course I had to assure my students that I am NOT dying. Being as straightforward as they are, my students will just come out and say things like "are you going to die?" or "I don't know what to say..." Kids are just so blunt. I love it. I have students who actually ask what everyone else is thinking. I have had to assure my students, friends, family, and colleagues that I do not plan on dying for about 50 more years. When people reveal that they do not know what to say to me, I respond with I don't know what to say either. At this point there really isn't much to say because I actually feel FINE. It is weird. I have been anticipating this huge onset of feeling ill, and it just hasn't happened yet. I actually feel pretty great, and although that may not last long, I will take what I can get. I have made it through one treatment. I have 5 to go. At least I can say I made it through one without being sick...just tired.

Beyond school starting and breaking the news to my students many other things have happened. After my lumpectomy, I was sent to have a bazillion scans to make sure that my cancer had not metastasized to any other part of my body. I had cat scans and MRIs and a bone scan. Unfortunately my bone scan showed something in my right hip, so they did a regular x-ray, then an MRI. All of which came back inconclusive. So, it was off to an orthopedic oncologist up in Akron.

My bone specialist in Akron sent me for a cat scan guided biopsy of my hip. In case it is ever recommended that you have a bone biopsy...just say NO! I do NOT recommend it. There is something gross about hearing someone knocking a hole through your bone. The whole experience was gross, painful, and all around disturbing.
/

Do I look as nervous as I feel?


The nurse is showing the cat scan image of the area of bone in question to my husband and mother.

When I got the results of my bone biopsy I was not shocked. Right hip-malignant for breast cancer. Yes, breast cancer in my right femur. I guess metastatic breast cancer was not originally in my plan for the future, but it is what it is...and I will play the hand I have been dealt, so metastatic breast cancer it is. (Don't worry, I still plan to kick cancer's A**!)

The bone biopsy put me on crutches for two weeks. What a pain. Lugging my school stuff in and out of the building is frustrating, but other than that, it hasn't been so bad.

On a lighter note, I cannot express the magnitude of thanks I have for the well-wishes that have been sent my way. I have absolutely amazing family, friends, and co-workers. Everyone has been extremely understanding, helpful, and willing to help me in anyway they can. I am truly fortunate to be surrounded with such love, support and hope.

Here is an example of how far Scott and my friends will go for us. FIVE of our friends shaved there heads BALD for me as a gesture of their love and support. One of the five had hair so long it was in a pony tail...about 8 inches long. Also, one our friend's five year old son cut his hair (but did not shave it) in my honor. Here are the pictures (sorry they are grainy, they were taken with my cell phone!):

The boyz

2,000,000

I've been told there are approx two million women in the United States living with breast cancer. My wife is now one of them. Living with, smiling with, crying with, sleeping with, waking with, waiting with.

This number is increasing due to advances in treatment and early detection. So, until science can determine cause and cancer is eliminated completely, living with is good.

Of course, being bestowed this title brings a number of things, mainly uncertainty. Uncertainty that can tag every possible thought. So many of our expressions, spoken or not, begin with what, when, where, and why. The only known is who. And it is the who that is most important. Not just the who being my wife (although this is my most important), but the who being two million wives, sisters, daughters, girlfriends...

I have been amazed by the strength and camaraderie of the women I have met. Simply amazed. Each of their stories is unique and personal. They make perfect eye contact and share experiences that are challenging to say the least; medically accurate, individually acute. Not to scare or intimidate, but to let my wife know that she too can overcome. It is here that she will excel. Her drive and ability to educate and personalize her experience will soon help someone better understand what it means to be one in 2,000,000.

Treatment #1

So I made it through chemo treatment number one. 4.5 hours of love from the nurses at the Cancer Center. First a small bag of saline hooked up to my port. Then dexamethasone a steroid to counteract nausea, water retention, and possible bad reactions to the other chemo drugs. Next, Taxotere, followed by Carboplatin, then Herceptin. The treatment did not hurt a bit, but was extremely long. My next chemo treatment won't take as long.

So far so good, I have not been sick at all... however I am afraid this is the calm before the storm. Click on the picture below to see pix!

treatment 1

My Chin is UP!

On Monday I was good to go. So far that day I had a short outpatient procedure to put in a port. The port was left accessed by my surgeon for chemo that day. I had already eaten lunch and took my anti-nausea drug an hour before treatment was to begin. As I sat in the oncology waiting room with my mother and husband, my cell phone rang. It was my oncologist. They decided to cancel treatment for the day.

port

My treatment was canceled because my amazing oncology staff was able to work their magic and get me an appointment with an orthopedic oncologist in Akron...a specialist. It turns out I have some sort of bone lesion in my right hip. We do not know what kind of lesion it is....and it is best to rule out metastatic disease before treatment begins. The chemo treatment for metastatic cancer is completely different than what we had originally put in place.

On Tuesday I went to the specialist and guess what? Another biopsy is in my future...hooray! I look forward to getting in touch with my oncologist today to see when chemo will really start. I am not so worried about results either way. I will deal with whatever comes, however the anticipation is enough to drive a person mad!

Pin Cushion

It is official. I am showing tracks in my arm. Due to the fact that I need to be careful in order to avoid lymphedema, I only have one arm available for blood pressure, blood draws, and injections. In the past two weeks I have had 4 injections in my left arm, 2 blood draws from my left arm plus 2 extra from where they couldn't thread an IV, and 2 injections in my mouth (I had a cavity filled, but still....). That is 10 injections in two weeks. I have had 6 scans and seen 5 doctors. I don't mean to complain, but this is excessive!

It's just hair

This morning I donated my hair to Locks of Love. Thankfully my friend Nicolle joined me. She made sure I didn't freak out, and encouraged me throughout the process. I was very brave and did not cry, in fact I was excited that my long locks could be put to good use. I am still skeptical of my new 'do, but hey, I can handle any hairdo for about 18 days...after all, it is just hair.






Before

After

Nicolle

The rest of the pics are here:

Hair

Hair

I am obsessed with losing my hair. The first oncologist I went to told me I WILL lose my hair about 10 days after my first chemo treatment. I have been trying to prepare myself, however this is not an easy task for me.


My hair is longest it has been in years, and I am struggling to imagine what I will look with no hair. I plan to wear hats and scarves, however they are hard to find. Traditional hats from department stores have rough seams and are too big for my head. I ordered a couple of hats from the Just in Time just to try them out. I made a hair appointment for Wednesday morning. I plan on donating my hair to Locks of Love and cutting what is left super short. I think it will be less gross when I lose it, however I am struggling to prepare myself for the initial shock of chopping off my locks. What if I have an ugly shaped head? My hair hasn't been short...like boy short since I was in 7th grade!

Of course I am going to wait until AFTER I see the second oncologist to get my hair cut. Perhaps oncologist number 2 will have a different perspective on the hair loss thing. Either way, cancer still sucks.

It is what it is

Well, I was asked to contribute, and it's impossible to tell her no, ever, to anything.

After much thought and deliberation, I'm at a loss to put into words what I'm feeling. Right now, I'm thankful for the support of family and friends... it is evident and meaningful. As for my personal feelings, well, we all know how transparent I am with my emotions. Maybe we'll leave that for another time. In the meantime, know this...we're focused and optimistic and we will get through this.

However, I did run across this.

As Ricky Bobby says, May you be blessed by eight pound, six ounce, newborn infant baby Jesus,
S.

Radioactive

There is something unsettling about a nurse handing me a card that says: SECURITY AND LAW ENFORCEMENT NOTIFICATION- the carrier of this card has undergone a nuclear medicine procedure. The residual radiation may be detectable externally.

In other words, I can set off the detectors at the airport. It seems like I should be glowing or something.

Tests, tests, and more tests!

I have had one heck of a week. So far I have had the following tests to make sure that my cancer has not spread:
CT Scan, MRI, and Bone Scan.

I also had Physical Therapy for my arm.

Next week I will see 2 Oncologists, my neurologist, my dentist. I will have a MUGA test (a test to make sure my heart can handle chemotherapy). Next week I also plan to donate my locks...

It still amazes me that I feel just fine but I still need all these tests!

Yesterday I stopped by The Gathering Place. I got some ideas of how to break the news to my students at school, and took out some books on scarf-tying and the like. I guess I am in the market for cool scarves and hats, as I will be losing all of my hair in the next few weeks. Hair from everywhere on my body, eyebrows, eyelashes, and everywhere else you can imagine. I think I may cover my head with temporary tattoos...just for giggles.

Oncology

Enough of about feelings. Here is what I am faced with:
Diagnosis:
Invasive Ductal Adenocarcinoma
stage IIb
Estrogen, progesterone, and Her2Neu positve

Treatment will include:
AC (Adriamycin/Cytotoxin) (4 rounds-2weeks each)
Taxol/Taxotere (12 rounds-1 week each)
Herceptin
Tamoxifen
Radiation



This looks TERRIFYING doesn't it? I don't feel sick... how could I need ALL THIS treatment?

Run!

I went to see my oncologist for the first time today. Part of me feels like frantically getting ready for the upcoming year of hell by doing everything I can to prepare. Get my shopping done for school, putting up the bulletin boards in my classroom, getting all host packets and paperwork ready for my Pampered Chef business, planning/preparing meals and freezing them in portion sized containers (I am NOT willing to gain back all of the weight I just lost), making lists of things that need to be handled and in the next few months. Another part of me wants to run away to some fabulous vacation spot and just spend time with my wonderful husband-pretend like nothing is wrong and just not deal with anything. But MOST of me wants to curl up into a ball and sleep for a few days. When I wake up I will be able to deal with everything and move on with life.