The "Cancer Cloud"

I feel like Pigpen with his dust cloud - except mine is the cancer cloud - it follows me everywhere and puts a shadow on everything. ( I wish it was just dust, that I could wash off, now that I can take showers again )

Unless something major happens when we get our second opinion, I will be starting my chemotherapy treatments in about 3 weeks. I'm already working to schedule the baseline test for my heart and the first chemo session. It takes longer than the rest. They put the drugs in very slow to see if you have an allergic reaction. I'm very thankful that Kevin will be going with me for this. I'm kinda scared.

But between now and then, I have a ton of things to do. Normally, you would think that would help me keep my mind off what is coming. But I can't shake the ever-looming cancer cloud for more than a few minutes at a time.

Today, I am working with our financial guy to put us on a budget. Great idea, glad we're doing it, should have done it years ago -- (cloud) even with insurance, we've got a pile of medical bills and I'll be working less hours.

This weekend we will be going to New York. We will stay with Kevin's cousin. Eat good food, visit with good people, maybe hit a museum or an art gallery, watch the NY Giants in the SuperBowl, in NY, with a bunch of Giant's fans -- and (cloud) spend Monday at Memorial Sloan Kettering discussing my treatment options.

3 weeks from today is my birthday. Yippie! Good food and wine with family and friends. Tuesday is birthday fun --(BIG cloud) Wednesday I go to the hospital to get poison dripped into my body.

Even cleaning the house isn't cloud free. The 'nesting instinct' before having a baby is nothing compared to 'nesting panic' when you are facing 6 months of potential chemo side effects. I am in a mad rush to get my spring cleaning done. I am rummaging through the closets to gather up clothes and shoes that are too small, and toys no longer loved that are just taking up space. I am attacking mini projects that are 1 step away from being finished and off the list. Yikes!

And certainly, when I run into a neighbor in the street or talk to a friend on the phone - the "Hello, how are you" isn't just a friendly greeting anymore -- (here comes the cloud) the tone in their voice is a reminder that they know what is going on and they are concerned about me. It is very comforting and appreciated - but still a reminder.

A silver lining to the cancer cloud??? Maybe each one of us can learn to put that same care into our voice with every "Hello, how are you". We should let our family, friends and neighbors know that we truly care about what is going on in their life all of the time, not just when adversity has struck.

Have a great day everyone!

Medical Update

We met with my oncologist the other day. The high points of my final pathology report from my surgery show that my tumor cells are very affected by certain hormones in my body and the cells grow on the aggressive end of the scale.

Because the pathology of my mastectomy 3 years ago showed only DCIS (cancer cells trapped inside the ductal walls) with no infiltration into the actual breast tissue – he believes this tumor was a new primary that came from the microscopic breast cells left behind in the skin.

And even though all 14 lymph nodes that were just removed were “clear”, the pathologist and my oncologist believe that there has probably been the beginnings of the cancer spreading into the lymphatic system, but just not large enough to detect yet.

The treatment recommendation for me is:

Taxotere and Carboplatin (the chemo "cocktail") for 18 weeks at 3 week intervals.

Herceptin weekly while getting chemo treatments, then down to every 3 weeks until we’ve completed 1 year of treatment.

Since the Herceptin has potential cardiac side effects, I will get a screening before treatments begin, then again at 3 months, 6 months, 12 months and 18 months. If they suspect any issues with my heart, they stop the Herceptin treatments temporarily, do some more testing, then try to start them again.

After all of that is finished, I will have some radiation treatments to the under arm area on the right side.

After chemo and radiation treatments, it is suggested that I need to either get monthly shots to shut down my ovaries and end the estrogen in my system – or just get them removed (my choice). However, before we schedule the surgery, my Dr. thinks I should get the genetic testing done to see where I fall in the BRCA rankings – so we know whether to also remove the uterus. (Boy the fun just doesn’t stop, does it?)

On Feb. 4th, we will meet with my sister's oncologist in NY. I really hope that he will agree that this is the correct course of action. If he doesn’t I’m really going to be sad, frustrated, confused, etc…

******

If you are interested in reading further about the drugs they are about to start pumping into my body - check out these 3 links. They aren't too long, not overly technical and have an interesting section at the bottom that explains how the drugs work in the body.



http://www.chemocare.com/bio/taxotere.asp
http://www.chemocare.com/bio/carboplatin.asp
http://www.chemocare.com/bio/herceptin.asp

Taking off the "Super-Mom" cape is hard

Here it was - my perfect excuse to get a few days of rest - and I blew it.

I've joked about it before. How I'd trade having to go through something horrible so I could have an excuse to sit on the couch for days - taking naps - watching too much t.v. - catching up on all of the books that I never have time to read - eating bonbons - and telling the job, family and friends: "Sorry, I'd love to help you with that, but I just had (insert excuse here) and I just can't do that right now. I need my rest."

So, last Friday morning, I go in for surgery and I have to spend the night at the hospital. When I come home Saturday afternoon, I'm sore and tired, but not feeling too bad - thanks to the wonder drugs. The weekend is nice - Kevin is around to help out with things and to keep me in check.

Here comes THE week. The one I've dreamed about. The kids are off to school. The husband is off to work. I have the house to myself to recuperate. Do I? Of course not! Because I'm 1) a person on pain killers which allows me to ignore what my body just went thru and push on; 2) a Super-Mom with no "off" button; 3) a dumbo; 4) all of the above.

Yes, #4 is correct.

In my earlier dreams of being on the couch for "THE" week, I obviously hadn't placed the couch in reality. That's why it's a dream. I could have still chosen to sit on the couch for "THE" week - and looking back, I really should have done more of it - but (and it's a big but - and we're good at those in my family) that couch is still physically located inside my house and inside my life where everything else is still whirling at top speed.

This week brought: a child's school conference, several doctors appointments, a flat tire and sitting at the repair place dealing with idiots that don't actually move to fix your flat tire until you break down into tears, homework and other after school activities, hundreds of phone calls - many to/from doctors offices about past and upcoming treatments, family members announcing a divorce, friends struggling with issues in their lives, my sister's family who's been battling loss of internet and Comcast for months, my daughter's 5th birthday, normal work demands, etc. At least for me, none of these things can easily be ignored or put off - despite the fact that so many wonderful people have offered help.

Let me relate it to being a major league player at batting practice before the game. Thousands of kids are lined up waiting to watch you hit them outta the park over and over. And the pitcher keeps throwing balls at you. And yet, you've been told to just stand there, holding your bat and relax and let them fly by you and collect in a big puddle behind you without even a swing. Ignore the disappointment in your own self and the kids watching.

Being the Super-Mom after all - my batting average in life is usually pretty good. At least when a ball (ball: noun: item on the never ending to do list) gets past me, I've attempted to hit it.

So while I know that I should rest, sit on the couch and let people do things for me - life is still coming at me full speed. I really don't feel that bad. I know that I will soon enough and will really need the help then. Some things are easier to take care of myself than explaining to others what needs to be done. I can't say no and hate to let others down. And mostly, I HATE feeling helpless and like a patient.

Yesterday, a good friend stopped in to give me a shoulder, arm and foot massage. He refered to me as a control freak - because I struggle so much to relax and just let him control my head and my arms. Wow! I've never thought of myself as a control freak. But I guess that plays into the whole Super-Mom syndrome. And looking back at this week really puts it into perspective.

I fell asleep on Caitlyn's floor last night at 8:00pm while Kevin was getting the girls ready for bed. He stopped messing with them to help me to bed. I fell asleep in my bed listening to him read them bed time stories. It's official. I try to do too much. I need to let go and let others help me.

It will be a struggle for me, but at least for a little while, the Super-Mom cape has been hung up in the closet.

I Stink

Have you ever gotten to that point where you can smell your own smell? Admit it, everyone has been in this position before. (And I don't mean because you spilled while opening the perfume bottle, were doused in what used to be your favorite scent, and it took you weeks to get the smell out of your nose.)

You get a whiff of yourself and think, "If I can smell my own stink, certainly everyone else could hours or even days ago and they just are being too polite to say so."

Well, I'm at that point. I stink.

Don't get me wrong, I've sat in the bath tub several times since I got home on Saturday. I've (we've) sponged off the important places. I've (we've) flipped my head over the side of the tub and given the hair a wash. And yet, I still stink.

The last REAL shower/cleansing was last Friday morning at 6:15 am. It is now Wednesday morning at 10:20 am. That shower of 5 1/2 days ago is L-O-N-G gone.

Did I mention that the surgery was to remove the "fat pad" under my right arm. See all of those stitches in my arm pit? Those stitches can't get wet. You know what that means... My right arm pit has not been cleaned in 5 1/2 days! Yucko!

It is now "painfully" obvious that while a tumor, lymph nodes and a fat pad came out of my arm pit - sweat (read stink) glands did not. They have recovered quite nicely from the anesthesia and surgery and are working "as expected". I'm so happy for them :)

Today, I'm going to see my surgeon. I've heard tale of a plastic device with adhesive that you can put over a surgical site so you may attempt a shower without getting your stitches wet. They don't really want to give them to you unless you are desperate. I'm prepared to walk in this morning and announce, "I'M DESPERATE!"

But wait... won't it just cover up my stink glands so that they don't get washed... yet again? Crap!

I guess for now, there is only one thing left to say, "I apologize to anyone and everyone who comes in contact with my aroma over the next few days."

A silver lining brain fade

I am generally a “Silver Lining” person. So, for this discussion, we are going to ignore all of the "I'm going to die" thoughts that have been sliding thru my brain in the past few weeks.

Since I had the distinct pleasure of knowing the general outline of my upcoming treatments about 2 weeks before Christmas - I figured I had carte blanche to eat and drink what I wanted during the holidays and not worry about it. In the early spring I would be doing "Chemo - The Wonder Diet!" and the weight would drop off of me.

1 minor issue – I forgot the logistics of having surgery first. That means I had to get naked and wear a hospital gown. I had to be fat and naked in front of the world! Then, to compound the embarrassment, I had to come home and ask my husband to help me with a sponge bath.

Now, generally, men could care less about the 10-20 pound weight fluctuations we go thru because they see us naked just before sex in bad lighting. And which brain are they working with at the time? Exactly.

However, when the kind, sincere, “I love you, honey and I’m so sorry you are going thru this” part of the brain is functioning and then you have to get naked and you are 20 pounds more than you should be in the sun-bright lights of the bathroom - - - MAJOR GUILT!!!

Oh well, too late now.

Oncology Appointment

Last Thursday, I had an appointment with the oncologist. He looked only slightly taken aback when he opened the door to see me, a bit wider to see Kevin, and finally as he steps in and sees Karen. 1 vs. 3.

But realistically, we had a good discussion. Once we get back the pathology of the chunks they just took out, we have a few choices of chemo treatments to choose from. Looks like I'll be starting treatments in about 3 weeks and they will most likely run me thru mid June. It's gonna be a L-O-N-G spring.

The only thing that Karen is still a bit concerned about is my ovaries. She thinks I must have them out. I tend to agree and think it makes the most logical sense for many reasons. But my Dr. said that we don't need to worry about it right now, and would talk about it after surgery and the chemo treatments are coming to a close.

By some minor miracle, Karen has secured me an appointment with her much-loved oncologist at Sloan-Kettering, in NY, for Monday Feb. 4th. A second opinion is never a bad idea - especially when it might come with a weekend of good food and shows in the city. But who knows...

Dinner of Champions - Pizza and Morphine!

Well, the surgery is done. I'm feeling OK - just a little beat up. Kevin is off picking up a Mellow Mushroom pizza for dinner. The nurse just shot me up with morphine. Life is good.

P.S. I will post an update on my oncology appt from yesterday later. For now, I will just say that there were no major surprises.

The Roller Coaster Effect

Yesterday, as the bone scan was ending, I asked to see the pictures. I rarely admit to being a geek, but I guess I am. All of this technology is pretty cool. But, of course, I was also impatient and wanted to see for myself, right away, if I could see anything abnormal on the pictures.

After the initial shock of how wide my hips looked in the picture, my sister and I both noted quickly the 2 glowing spots on my chest. There is an off hand remark about that being my tumor on the right side of the body - and the technician says "No, that's the left side of the body." My sister and I look at each other with dread. Oh crap!

The tech tries to tell us that it is probably nothing - "See, it isn't on the ribs or any other bone." All my brain is hearing is "Crap, crap, crap!" He checks with the guy who actually reads the scans and, no big surprise, he wants another close up of the left chest area.

Kevin happens to call Karen during this time frame - and she tells him about the spots on the left. But she tries to calm him with her own story of a spot they found on her pelvis during one of these years ago. They made her do all sorts of extra testing (and panic), only to realize that it was probably some bone abnormality that had been there from birth. My brain is still only saying "Crap, crap, crap!"

After a few minutes, the tech walks in - almost laughing "You are fine! Did you get your injection of the radioactive isotopes in your left arm?" Yes. "Did you take your sweater off and on since then?" Yes. "Then you probably just got a few of the isotopes on the outside of your sweater, come look."

We go back to the computer screen, and there is the outline curve of my breast with 2 glowing spots hovering above it. "See, on the outside - on the sweater - you are fine."

Panic attack over. Stop the ride, I want to get off.

Clean Scans - Yeah!

My scans showed nothing!!! No spread!!!

LOVE my surgeon. He called last night at 9:30pm to let me know all was clear. I actually slept well (the margaritas helped) and woke up with a clear head. I feel like my mind has been in a fog for several weeks and it has certainly lifted. The not knowing is the worst part. Now we mostly know what we are dealing with and we can attack it.

Scan Day

OK - Don't EVER look at the pictures from your bone scan. Just let the doctors tell you what is says over the phone. While it takes great pictures of your bones, it adds about 10 inches to your hips! Wow! If I ever needed some incentive to start exercising again, I got it today.

Now down to business... We don't have the official word yet, but (other than the hip incident) the bone scan looked clear. As far as the CT scan goes - dunno.

Drinking the Barium solution for the CT scan was Super Nasty. And the lady told me that the stuff they injected into me for the bone scan does make me slightly radio-active, so I probably don't want to hug my kids tightly or for a long time before tomorrow when it is out of my system.

It's official - I will be doing some level of chemo. We'll know more after the pathology results from what they take out on Friday.

For now, I need to drink as much liquid as I can to flush all of the contrast dye and radio-active stuff out of my system - so I'm going to fill up my water glass again and head off for a dinner and a margarita (or two).

P.S. Big thanks go out to my sisters Iris and Karen who took turns sitting with me, all day at the hospital, last Wed and today, while I got scanned -- and spend many more hours surfing the internet and coming up with good questions for the doctors. Of course, Kevin who keeps working to pay the doctor bills, and calls for continuous updates. And all of my family and friends that send good thoughts my way.

MRI Results

Left breast - OK - just like last time
Right breast - spot we knew about and 2 lymph nodes underneath that appear inflamed - so most likely infected.

My surgeon, is planning on removing the entire fat pad under my right arm on Friday. That will include the bad spot and all lymph nodes. While that will leave me with the possibility of lymphedema later on, it seems like the best idea right now as far as getting rid of the cancer cells. That may change slightly with the results of the other tests I'm having tomorrow, and when the surgeon talks to the oncologist - but we won't know that until later in the week.

Tomorrow is the CT scan and the bone scan. Yikes! I'm nervous and anxious to get it over with. Can't wait for my margarita tomorrow night at Stammtish!

Breast Cancer 2008

OK - So, I found a new lump sometime around the beginning of November. We shrugged it off as scar tissue. However, after seeing my ob/gyn for my annual in November, he thought I should go ahead and see the surgeon. I already had an appt for January, but made another one at the urging of my in-laws.

I really didn't want to know before Christmas - I really wanted to wait - but it seemed silly to wait - it wasn't going to be anything more than scar tissue anyway. But no... the biopsy said cancer. CRAP!!!

So, last week I had an MRI to determine if there are any more spots in the breast area. I don't know yet, but hope to find out tomorrow. One thing I did learn was that the contrast dye that they shoot into you for the MRI can cause joint pain. Man, the joints in my fingers the next morning felt like they were 150 years old - but it has slowly subsided over the last few days.

On Tuesday, I will have a bone scan and a CT scan. Those will let us know if the cancer has spread further. If that is the case - I will not be held responsible for using 4 letter words in my posting.

Anyway, it is time for an awesome leg of lamb dinner over at Judy's house. My glass of wine is calling me. I'll post again tomorrow and let you all know about my great golf game of today!

Happy New Year - It's 2008!

THE GOOD...

We had a wonderful Christmas. The girls got a ton a cool gifts, but the "biggie" was the go-kart. We only got a few rides in before the rains came, which was a bummer. And it rained for days - but who's complaining after the drought we've had. (I woulda bought it sooner if I knew it could create atmospheric changes!)

Anyway, here we are buzzing right along into 2008. We've had Kevin's birthday and are about to have Caitlyn's. For her birthday this year, we are heading down to see the Monster Trucks at the Georgia Dome. Yippie! My daughter, the 5 year old tom-boy red-neck!

THE BAD, and THE UGLY...

I have just been re-diagnosed with breast cancer. So, this year will probably be quite a roller coaster ride for us. And while I'm blessed to have a ton of family and friends that care about me, I am not anxious to repeat the outcome of each doctors visit a thousand times on the phone and each time I run into someone around the 'hood. Being a mini-techno-geek, I figured that creating a blog to help keep everyone on top of what's going on with me and the Farmer family would be the best solution. (But of course, anyone that knows me, will know that I'll still probably talk about this constantly anyway. I'll try to keep the complaining to a minimum.)

THE PROMISE...

I've named this blog "Bippity Boppity Boob" since that was the name of our 3-Day walking team from 2006. I loved that experience and was very proud that we raised over $45,ooo to fight breast cancer. This 2nd diagnosis has instilled in me an ever more urgent need to keep doing whatever I can, each year, until I don't have to worry about Kinsey and Caitlyn going thru this some day. I don't know where I'm going with this yet, but being as I have many sleepless nights ahead of me, I'm sure I will figure something out.

AND NOW...

I've got to go be a Mom and make breakfast. Until next time...