It's my (pity) party & I'll cry if I want to...

The emotions cancer brings into your life can cripple you if you let it...I described the guilt, but there's such a plethora of feelings...there are days I wake up just happy to be alive and feel good and don't take one single minute all day for granted...there are days that I feel like me trapped in some alien's body, all mangled up and weak...there are days that mix both of those into one, when I'm going along with a skip in my step and I pass a mirror and BAM, the image I see ain't me anymore...there are still those times when I let the enemy get into my head and the terror of slowly deteriorating from cancer eating away at my body takes my breath...there are times when, usually when I see myself fully naked in the mirror, that I'm embarrassed at what I've become, a mangled breast, a healing scar from the c-section, a bald head with stray hairs trying to fight their way back kinda like someone glued strands of cotton to my head...I know I shouldn't let vanity get the better of me when ultimately it's all about my becoming healthy again but it's hard as a woman who has always been confident about what she looked like to see a shell of what she was looking back at her...there are times when every woman just wants to paint her face, throw on a cute outfit & some sexy heels and feel pretty & that just isn't an option for me right now and it's hard to explain the toll that can take on your soul. I was a girl who was used to turning a few heads when she went out but now when heads turned it was becuz people were morbidly curious...I'll put it out there, there are times when the kids are at school, the baby is sleeping, the hubby is at work & I'm all alone that I can't fight back the tears...

It's getting harder and harder to breathe...

...not really to breathe, but definitely to get thru the first week after my treatment...I just wanted to tribute a bit of Nickelback...
the week after my 5th treatment bit majorly...I felt so drug out, just slightly feverish, and just overall icky. Once again, my mouth felt like someone had took a cheese shredder to it and the aches I'd come to expect on Sunday began creeping up on me on Saturday and pitched a tent 'til Tuesday this time. I was told to expect it as the meds built up more and more. I was trying really hard to remember I was still having a really easy time of it considering the alternative, but I was just getting sooooo tired of it all.

Five and alive!

On my baby boy's 5 month birthday, we went in for my 5th chemo treatment. Doc said he wanted me to take an echo the following week after it so we can make sure there has been no damage to my heart and then we'll do one or two more...ugh...I was looking forward to number six being the last of it, but I guess we'll see, and it's like he said, we want to push as much of these meds, that seem to be doing such a great job, into my system as possible.
The veins in my right hand seem to be getting harder and harder for them to thread. They hafta poke me several times to get a good vein. They hafta do everything thru my right hand and arm since we took the cyst out of my left side. There's a chance I could contract something called lymphedema if I overly exert anything on that side which as I understand it is not a pleasant and almost untreatable condition. Trust me, it's a lot of fun trying to remember I'm not supposed to lift anything over 10lbs with my right arm, especially with a baby in the house...guess I can sell my bowling balls...

I miss my nose hairs...

You think that title is a joke?!? LOL! Well, it ain't...it's amazing that I could almost care less about the hair on my head but I really do miss my eyelashes, eyebrows, and nose hairs...It's crazy how much those little hairs in your shnoz keeps the moisture in and the dust out. It's like the freakin' Sahara in there!! I've always been a mascara freak and by the 4th treatment there was nothing left to be able to swipe the wand across...not one little hair! And lemme tell ya about the eyebrows...LOL...after the 5th treatment I'm starting to look like Whoopi, 'cept without the tan, the dreds, or the money...I refuse to draw them in cuz I'd end up wiping my hand across one of 'em and looking like an idiot with liner swiped across my face...it's another one of those side effects they forget to mention...

Uh oh, this ain't normal...

Now from the first treatment I had had a bit of pain in my back and hips but I had first supposed that it was due to the walking I was doing since I had been pretty stagnant throughout my pregnancy. I had stopped by to visit my aunts at the office with the baby and told my GP about it and he explained that it was in fact the chemo getting into my cells and fighting the cancer...it was a good pain...so thru out my first 2 treatments the few times that I felt it, instead of being annoyed by the dull pain, I relished in the fact that my pacmans were workin'. The Sunday after the 3rd treatment was a completely different story tho...I woke up to every fiber of my being aching...it felt as if someone had wrapped me head to toe as tight as can be in bandages and then let it go...it ached sooo much and to top it off my mouth was on fire, like when you eat something really hot and it hurts for hours...well, my mouth felt like hamburger meat, it was so raw...my wonderful husband took care of things all day but here we were again with me feeling like an inadequate piece of a woman that was breaking down. I think those thoughts ached in my heart almost worse than the chemo did in my cells...we got thru that day tho and I woke up on Monday morning feeling good again...whew, that sucked!
The 4th treatment saw a similar result with the Sunday after being a day from Hades. I got thru it thinking I'd wake up Monday morning just fine, but that wasn't the case this time and Monday morning I was still aching. I fought thru the pain and by that night it was better and I woke Tuesday morning good as new. Hmmm, I'm beginning to see a pattern developing here...
Before my 5th treatment, I spoke to my doctor about it to make sure there wasn't something more I needed to be doing. He explained it was just the fact that the meds were building up in my system and this was the affect of that...great...and I have at least another couple to go...I wondered how much worse it was gonna get...

Wait, I'm a bit confused...

We went in the week after that PET scan to see my oncologist and for my 4th scheduled chemo treatment...when he came in he reiterated the results and was equally as flabbergasted with how well I was doing as my GP was...he examined me and said we'd do 2 more treatments, then do an echo to check my heart after the 5th and then make a determination if we'd do 1 or 2 more. Some of the meds I was on could damage my heart and one of them you can only take so many times in your life, so he wanted to make sure my body was holding up but do as much as we could with this cocktail since it was obviously working so well. After that we'd do 'maintenance chemo' that he said would be much more mild to my system. We were so pleased and I think it was kinda strange for the doc to see me in such a great mood. I asked him when we would do the mastectomy and to my shock he said he wouldn't recommend it...I didn't get it cuz I thought that was what we were working for this whole time. He said with stage IV cancer that it wouldn't be necessary if my last PET was clean. I still didn't understand what he meant but went on to do my 4th treatment and knew I'd call my GP later for an explanation and see if he agreed. Later that night I spoke with my GP and he explained it so much better....the theory was that there was no tumor and if my PET was completely clean at this point there would be no need for the mastectomy and he agreed with that line of thought. I was still confused cuz I thought that a double mastectomy still would cut down on the chance of recurrence, but he said that wasn't true anymore. If it had stayed only in my breast then, yes, it would be a precautionary measure he'd recommend but since it had gotten outside my breast that it made as much sense to lop of my boobs as it did to remove my nodes, liver, or bones...it had an equal chance of coming back anywhere in my body in the future and that targeting only my breasts for removal wouldn't bring down those chances significantly enuff to warrant it. Okay, I get it...scary sounding when we start talking about recurrence, but I understood what he was saying. I had to wrap my mind around the thought that there would be no mastectomy and that was kinda weird considering I had been looking to that as kinda an end point to this nightmare. We were still going to have to discuss the concept of reconstruction cuz my left breast was mangled and about half the size of my right one, but that was something we hadn't gotten to the point to need to decide about it yet.

The cancer dance...

When my husband got home from work that afternoon and finally put me down after the biggest hug he'd ever given me, I did this little booty shake and sang my song 'No more cancer, no more cancer'...he laughed at me...I've proceeded to do that dance on numerous occasions and he laughs the same everytime...laughing seems brand new again...it's nice to laugh!

A moment of truth...

Not that there wasn't anything going on in the next 6 weeks, but my 2nd and 3rd chemo treatments had went amazingly well. I had no nausea and never even had to take the 'back up big dog' scripts I had been given in case I got sick. My blood tests were coming back great and the doctor even said that everyone's levels drop a bit during chemo but mine weren't. When I would see him, he'd ask a barrage of questions about how I was feeling and how my body was reacting and I almost felt like he didn't believe me when I said everything was great.
We'd come to the time for that 2nd PET scan. Now, I knew it would be nerve wracking but I had no idea how absolutely on edge I would be having to go get this test. I'd been able to go thru almost 2 full months getting treatments and being able to pretend there was nothing wrong. There were moments my mind would drift off to the worst case scenarios but I was finding the strength more and more to fight that off and focus on the positives. But here we were, back to reality, back to seeing what was going on in my body in black and white and not be able to pretend anymore that life was normal...
I went in for the scan and on my way out asked when the results would be in. They told me prolly by the afternoon...ugh...okay, more waiting...
I went home and tried to stay as busy as I could. I picked up my daughter and went shopping to try to keep my mind occupied...while we were out my cell phone rang and I recognized the number as my GP's. I was petrified to answer it, especially in public, but there was no way I could wait one more minute...I literally answered the phone 'I'm in the middle of a store so don't make me cry'....the next second of silence paralyzed me and seemed like a million years before I heard him say 'it's good news'...he went on to tell me that he was absolutely baffled by the fact that my cells were undetectable on the scan...I made him explain it to me so that I was completely clear on what that meant...he told me they had expected a positive change and hoped for a dramatic one, like 40% retreat, but this was at a rate of about 90% and it was nothing short of a miracle...I thanked him for making me cry in the store, he laughed, and we hung up so I could make the necessary phone calls. Standing right there in that store, I called my Dad, my husband, and my best friend to share our news...I was going to win this battle...I was on my way!

Not much could surprise me anymore, but...

Here's a tribute to 'are you kiddin' me?!?'...
My husband came home from work and said that they had given him the month of March off...I mentioned his boss's cancer...he had been diagnosed with advanced bone cancer the year before and it was bad. He did all his treatments and just before I found out about mine, he had been tested and found out his cancer retreated entirely. I guess understanding completely what I was dealing with, he felt it important that hubs be at home with our family. It was an incredible surprise and a complete testament to the fact that there was still good people in the world. I was sooooo lucky to have my husband home for that month to help with the baby & the other 2 kids, to take care of me on days I was more tired and to help me from thinking too much. He really helped me to train my brain not to go to the ugly places that were unproductive in my healing process. It also helped my state of mind to have him be in a place he could rest and recharge. I knew he'd been in his own personal hell of fear, anger, and confusion but didn't want to put that off on me. We both needed that time together and I will be forever grateful to his place of employment cuz that's not just rare, it's next impossible to find that kind of support from a company!

Round 2...

It was time for my second chemo session...I had a very easy time of the first and hoped that #2 would go as swimmingly...I was by this time bald as a cue ball, but honestly that was the only sign of my illness...the doctor said we'd do a total of 3 sessions, then take another PET to see where we were at and if we needed to alter the meds...I began walking in the afternoons, drinking green tea, buying some organic products all in effort to help the chemo do its thing...my immunity was doing absolutely fabulous and the doctor was happy with things thus far. It was a bit hard at times to believe I had this toxic disease in my body cuz I felt so good after being in soooo much pain and agony for all those weeks...I told the doc that I felt so good that the only way I knew I was sick was cuz he kept telling me I was...

My 'circle of trust' (thanks Deniro)

There's one thing that is very important when you get stuck in a position like mine and that's that you know when and how to ask for help...I'm not good at that...of course, as seen all the way from the start, my husband has been superman...my Dad, my stepmom, my mother-in-law, my best friend & her husband & mom, my aunts (who work for my GP btw) have all just 'done' for me without waiting for me to ask for help. They have and continue to be a support group that I could not make it one minute without! But then there's those other people, the ones who surprise you...since my diagnosis, it has been amazing to see the peeps who have stepped up and beyond the plate to go out of their way for me. I have made new and deeper connections with some people becuz they have demonstrated a fiber of being that was way beyond the call of duty. There's been 3 particular chicas that have been a lifeline just by realizing how bound up this disease has caused me to be and have made it a regular thing to pop into the house on a regular basis just to socialize...ahhhhh, socializing...after being in the bar biz for 20 years, my life had been one big social event. Not being about to get out and cut loose, especially during a time when it would be wonderful to 'forget my troubles' for an evening, has been stifling. Now these ain't gals I'd been friends with for years...one I'd known for a couple of years socially, one I had known for years and hung out with in the distant past, and one was someone I had basically 'met' thru Facebook and had a cancer journey story to tell all of her own...they were (and continue to be) an inspiration to friendship...
There was also another great lifeline in the beginning. It was a gentleman who had been a spiritual adviser of sorts to my husband's boss when he was going thru his own cancer stuff. He works with my hubs & had asked if he could come over that first week after we had found out how bad things were. I hadn't really had much of a spiritual life since my Mom had died. I still blamed God for that and, to be honest, wasn't really happy with Him now for my situation. This gentleman came to see us one morning and sat and talked with us. He told us a few stories of amazing healing he had witnessed and prayed with us. He reminded me that this wasn't a trip I wanted to take without a very experienced co-pilot and convinced me that it might be time to reconcile my relationship with God. He truly believed in the healing power of God and, interestingly enough, asked me if he could anoint me with oil. I was raised Southern Baptist and wasn't quite sure if I believed in that but I figured, with all his faith in it, I shouldn't be so skeptical. This guy was quite infectious and I can say without a doubt helped me to repair my outlook on the Almighty. God and I talk quite often now about all kinds of things and I will tell ya, He talks back...
With the good always comes the bad...the one thing you get to find out when life isn't just sugar and roses is what people are really made of. You find you have 'friends' that will be there for ya when the chips are down but when the chips are literally squashed to dust and it's gonna take quite a bit of time to piece them back together, they have a very short attention span...there is disappointment in my heart for certain people but I really don't have time or effort right now to dwell on that...I need my energy for positive things.

Old pro...

Three weeks went by without very much difference...I was more tired on certain days than others but I have a husband, 3 kids, a newborn getting up to eat regularly, a huge house of people wearing clothes, eating on dishes, wanting to be fed, walking on floors, and making other general messes to clean up after, so I'm not sure what part of my exhaustion was chemo and what part was 'Mommy'...there was a new attitude that had emerged during these three weeks...I was going to fight with everything I had and I was going to win...I had a mantra and still repeat it to myself...trust the doctors, trust the chemo, and trust God...

Hair raising...

My gf had warned me that the window of hair loss was about 2 weeks...I had hair down to my tush and it was the longest it had ever been...I kept threatening to cut it but hubby liked it and to be perfectly honest, it was a bit of a security blanket during my pregnancy when I didn't feel very pretty....I knew my hair was gonna fall out despite all the people who'd like to say things like 'well, I knew this one girl who had chemo and hers didn't fall out' or 'your hair is so thick you might not lose enuff to notice'....whatever...LOL....the drugs I was on were the big dogs and if it could eat a hole thru cancer I figured my follicles didn't have a chance...I readied myself those first couple of weeks for the occurrence. The Sunday 2 weeks after my treatment, I took a shower and noticed that a bit more hair than usual was coming out in my hand. It wasn't in clumps or anything but dozens at a time. It doesn't sound like much but I knew it was sign of the times. My hubby & I decided it would be a good idea to cut it off so that at least it wasn't sooooo long as it shed. I put my hair in a pony tail and he lopped it off...oh, that reminds me, it's still in my bathroom cabinet and I really need to drop that off to Locks of Love...I'd spent my whole life dying my hair crazy colors and having it every length so this wasn't a big deal...yet, as I would discover...the next day's shower saw bigger chunks coming out and I found that it didn't matter how prepared I thought I was for it, it was still a bit disturbing for your hair to start falling out of your head from the root...there were a few tears that night, but once again, hubby prevailed in calming my nerves...and then there was the NEXT day...okay, we were exactly 2 weeks to the day from my chemo and the chunks of hair were getting even bigger...there were no bald spots on my head but I just kept envisioning those Barbies all us girls had that were old and their heads looked all sprigged out...I was NOT going there...my daughter knew my hair was gonna fall out and she was trying to be supportive but she still was sad about it...on that 2 week marker we decided to take total control of the situation and have a head shaving party...hubby needed a hair cut anyway (oh, btw, he may be 8 years younger but he's been prematurely bald for years) so when I pulled the clippers out to shave his head, we turned it on mine...I let my daughter help me cut big chunks out with the scissors and she thought that was just too cool...then we strapped on a quarter inch guard and everyone took a shot at buzzing off a strip...there it was...my big old head with very little hair on it...the pic over on the right side of the page was the day after we shaved me...very Demi Moore, GI Jane, don't cha think?!? There are many things that gals with hair don't realize about not having much...your ears get cold, you lose heat in your body thru your head, and wearing hats for too long gives you headaches...these were things I'd hafta get used too and thank goodness my husband has big old hands to rest on my cold noggin at night to warm it while we're watching tv...
over the next days & weeks the spriglets of hair that were left would fall out in the shower and the floor would look like my hubby's sink after he'd shave his beard...there were and still are days it bothers me more than others but all in all, it hasn't been so bad...no shampoo, no wet pillow in the middle of the night cuz you went to bed after washing your hair, showers take about 7 minutes total, and summers in Florida are hot enuff without 14 pounds of hair covering you up...I've never gotten a wig...maybe if I had to go to a job, I'd care but over all I throw bandanas over my egg when I take the kids to school so I don't scare their friends and have even gotten to the point I don't put anything on when we have company at our house...the rule is, it's my house and this is me. If you're uncomfortable with it, be glad YOU don't have cancer....

Another one of those little angels...

I mentioned my girlfriend earlier that was a nurse and had just finished her treatments, well, lemme tell ya, this lady has been a guiding light thru so much of this...she kept and keeps in total contact with me tho she lives an hour or so away...she even remembers when my chemo treatments are and sends me little encouragement texts...now this girl is one strong cookie and we do have lots of traits in common but there's one that we don't...being a nurse she was adamant about knowing the details of her disease and started down the path to share them with me...that's when I found out that there are times I appreciate being blissfully ignorant on some of the details...don't get me wrong, I wanna know the big stuff and I want the truth, but I want in my time...at the beginning I didn't want to know exactly what this cancer could do, how it grows and spreads and the medical terms for all the drugs I was on...I wanted to know I had it, how to get rid of it, and I'm perfectly comfortable calling my meds 'the little pacmans'...lol...actually tho, there was an important phone call I forgot to share with you...the evening I was given my diagnosis, I got a call from my GP to check on me...he gave some very wise advice...STAY OFF THE INTERNET...LOL...he told me not to go looking for information on my particular type of cancer cuz all it would do was scare me to death...even the best, most factual sites were misleading...by misleading I don't mean their info is incorrect, but what he was explaining to me is that statistics in medicine and science in general take years to accumulate accurately and that there is no way that studies can keep up with the advancements...I could read a statistic that says 1 in 6 people die from what I have in the first 3 years but that means that those were the numbers that were found from a study that prolly happened like 10 years ago, not what is happening today, cuz those studies wouldn't be out for another 10 years...I understood exactly what he meant and heeded his warnings and for that, I think I've been able to be more positive...each person is different and reacts differently to things and just becuz someone else gets sick from chemo or doesn't have success from a certain 'cocktail' doesn't mean I won't so I've left all the stats in my case up to my body...I figure out how I feel each day I wake up and go from there...

The wait is excruciating...

My husband and I sat around for three days waiting for something to happen...I took my pills like I was suppose to and had the two 'big dog' back up prescriptions filled and on the ready for the impending nausea that might come...we waited, we waited, we waited...hmmmmm, nothing is happening...wait a minute, that's a good thing! Friday came and I hadn't had one sense of sickness...wow, I was almost afraid to be thankful...I was afraid to have any positive emotion yet I couldn't help it...I had gotten thru the first treatment window without getting sick and now I had the 'pacmans' in my system 'wonka-wonka-ing' away on those cancer cells...I was feeling a bit empowered, a bit like I could take control back over my body...well, a bit....happy!

So much guilt...

You're given alot of information when you're diagnosed with cancer...what to expect physically and somewhat psychologically and how to treat those kinds of things but what you're not told about is the hideous guilt cancer can bring...I felt soooo guilty...my husband didn't ask for this...he had just married a healthy independent woman who could handle anything. We were suppose to be partners, he wasn't suppose to be my nurse...my kids didn't ask for this...I was trying so hard to act as normal as I could for them but I knew they sensed my fear and had already been thru so much helping out in the house and with the baby thru the last couple of months with my pain and craziness and they had to wake up everyday not knowing what to expect, if I was going to be in pain, grumpy, or in a great mood. Sometimes they gotta feel like they're living with Cybil...my family didn't ask for this...my Dad was terrified for me and I know he had to be thinking that you're not supposed to outlive your children and I know it was bringing back to him all the horror of what Mom went thru...my mom-in-law had already been spending almost every day off she had babysitting our little one while I had to take tests and go to appointments...and this was only the very beginning of the treatments and we didn't have a clue what to expect in the future...this was all becuz of me...it was, and remains, an overwhelming feeling of guilt that, even tho you know it's thru no fault of your own, your cancer is taking over so many people's lives...it remains something I battle with and sometimes drives me to try to do more than I should to give some kind of semblance of normalcy to our world. Then when I overdo it and feel bad, the guilt is multiplied when my family has to take up the slack...no matter what, you can't get around the guilt, you can't suppress it, you can't make it disappear...it's there, and it's there with you everyday....

Poison in my veins...

We went very early the next morning to get my first chemo treatment...they had given me sheets of papers explaining all the meds they were going to give me but I really hadn't read any of them....I was still trying to digest the cancer, and the thought of reading about all these toxic chemicals they were fixing to feed into my veins and all the side effects they brought was still just too much to want to try to tackle right that minute. The nurse that had seen me the day before took me under her wing from the minute I sat down. She put the IV in my hand and explained to me that I could get a port installed in my collar so they wouldn't have to stick me everytime I came in...she explained to me the first bags she hooked up to me that contained anti-nausea meds and Benadryl to prepare my body for the real stuff...I had brought a blanket cuz I remembered being very cold in that room the day before, so I put it over my head and finally fell asleep without visions of the grim reaper dancing in my head. I woke to some clanking and the nurse explained to me she was starting a bag of one of my meds, what it was for, and how long it would take to feed...I fell back to sleep...that process happened a couple of more times each time a new med was introduced...finally we were to the last bag. The nurse sat down with 4 prescriptions and explained to me what they were and how to use them...they were anti-nausea meds and steroids...she explained that I would need to come back the next day to get a shot that would help keep my immunity up...let me explain all the wonderful things she told me might happen to me...nausea, actually puking, loss of appetite, dehydration, muscle and joint pain, hair loss, lack of or no taste in my mouth or possible a metal taste, mouth sores, exhaustion...wow, I don't even know if that's the complete list, but you get the point...I was scared of what the next few days would hold...I know my husband was too but bless his heart he kept up the positive attitude, the smiles, trying to hold me up...we finished up and went home...I moved like I was made of glass cuz I was so scared that any minute I was gonna heave or I was gonna be stricken with paralyzing pain...I was told the first 3 days were the worst and probably would dictate how my body was going to react to the meds for the long haul...we waited...

The dark is scary...

It is true what they say, things always look worse at night...I tried to sleep that night and I was exhausted but unfortunately my body and mind were very detached. I'd close my eyes and the room would fill will visions of death. When I would doze off I'd awake literally gasping for breath and my husband would have to bear hug me until I could regain air. It was like waking up from a terrible nightmare right before the bad guy was gonna stab you with a giant butcher knife but realizing when you're fully awake that it wasn't a nightmare, it was reality and it was right there in your face. I had three kids who needed their mom...I had a new marriage of two years and had finally found my soulmate...I had a new baby, a precious new little life that I hadn't even begun to be Mommy to yet...I had a Dad who had already lost his wife of 40 years to this hateful disease and was his only child...I needed to be here...I couldn't leave this world yet...did I even have a choice...was it all out of my hands...so many wild thoughts raced thru my mind all night no matter how hard I tried to fight them back and be rational. It was probably the longest night of my life, hands down...

Aftermath...

Somehow we did answer all the questions the oncologist had and we were going to start chemo first thing the next morning...thank God for my husband who was able to ensure the doctor we were willing to do whatever the most aggressive route was to treat me...I was taken into the chemo room and introduced to what would come to be one of the most wonderful nurses in the whole wide world. I was still just shellshocked...tears streamed down my face and I didn't care what I looked like to the people who were in there. There were recliners lined all the way around the room with some of them filled with patients hooked up to IVs having meds pumped into their system. That was really all I noticed at that time as I still wasn't fully functioning, kinda like in zombie mode...I do remember snippets of what the nurse was explaining to me...'I know honey this is all a shock, but we'll take care of you'...'It isn't out of the ordinary for breast cancer patients to have cells in their bones'...'it's not nearly as bad as you have it in your mind'...
I got some papers on the meds I was gonna be given and my husband took me home. It was a loooong ride...silent at times, sobs at times, my hubby trying to reassure me we were gonna fight this...it felt like my body was numb but my mind couldn't stop spinning...I imagine that is what it felt like to one of those people who are put under anesthesia but are still psychologically awake. It was terrifying.
We got home where my best friend and her mom were sitting with our baby and she and I went out and sat on the porch and just talked. Her husband had come over too after my hubby had made the call home for me to tell them so I didn't have to...we all sat around a bit and they gave me the most encouragement they could...my Dad and stepmom came over later...I knew they were all rallying around to support me and I soooo appreciated it but I remember feeling a bit like someone had died and everyone was coming by to give their last respects. Our two older kids came home and we did our best to act as normal as we could. We let them know I had breast cancer before but we decided not to tell them anymore than that until we saw how everything was gonna go...it was too much for us to understand fully yet as adults, it was waaaaay too much for an 11 and 13 year old to wrap their minds around and it wasn't their job as kids to worry about Mommy. I was beginning to understand why my Mom and Dad handled her cancer the way the did years ago...

The day time stood still...and spun, all at the same time!

My husband and I went to oncologist's office that Monday morning...the doctor came in and began asking me questions...did I have any pain, did I have any exhaustion, did I have any weight changes...was he kiddin' me...I'd been pregnant and carried around a grapefruit sized cyst that festered in my boob over the last year...I had all those things, but since the surgery, I felt the best I had in a year...it was all good....get to it, doc...
the next 45 seconds were the ones that were going to change my life, the lives of my kids, the life of my husband, the lives of my family, and the lives of my friends...
the PET scan had lit up and shown the cancer had escaped my breast and found it's way into my bones, my liver, and my lymph nodes...I sat paralyzed...no tears, no breath, no words...paralyzed...I swear I thought I just heard him say 'you're dying'...wait, no that's not what he said...what did he say? I was spiraling in my mind and couldn't breathe...the doctor continued on to tell me what course he wanted to take...chemo, STRONG chemo, and IMMEDIATELY...I didn't have time to digest any of this but he kept talking and wanted me to take a tour of the chemo room with a nurse...SLOW DOWN, I'm still not on the same page yet, what were we going to do?!? I'm so lost in my head, it's bitterly quiet in there...the doctor finally finished and left the room so we could 'have a minute'...I sat there with tears running down my cheeks, feeling like someone just punched me in the stomach, holding, more like grasping, onto my husband...I had advanced stage IV breast cancer that was now growing in my body...was I going to die?

And I thought all my friends only lived in my computer now...

I had an oncologist appointment set for the next Monday so we had the weekend off from medical crap...it had been a week since surgery and my surgeon had taken out the staples and drain and I was feeling pretty good...the little bit of post surgery pain I was having was treatable with Motrin instead of Percocet, so we were very happy with that...
I had girlfriends over that Sunday...I had one gf that had just finished her last chemo treatment...she had been diagnosed with breast cancer, opted for a mastectomy instead of a lumpectomy AND she was a fabulous nurse so she was a wealth of support and information (and btw, she had absolutely no genetic markers for this in her family...another good example of needing to be vigilant with regular check ups)...the girls came over and we chatted about where we'd been and where we were going...it was, over all, just what 'the doctor ordered'...I was finally beginning to feel like life was getting back in order...I knew I still had another surgery to go, but we were there...seeing that light!!
After the girls left that night, I was feeling a little apprehension about getting the PET results the next day...what if there was more than we thought, what if, what if, what if...I had to put that all out of my mind or I'd drive myself crazy...

If I liked citrus milkshakes, I'd of ordered one...

I went and did the first PET scan I'd ever had...I heard the horror stories of the barium I would have to drink...got there and they gave me a much smaller container of stuff than I was expecting so that was good...I popped it open and poured it into the cup and took a sip...why I sipped is beyond me cuz I HAD to drink it no matter what it tasted like so I shoulda just bit the bullet and downed it but I was a wuss...to my surprise it wasn't sooooo bad, kinda like a citrus milkshake that was left out on the counter and warmed...I can do this, so I downed the first cup...the tech came out to get me and picked up the container that was about 3/4 empty and tossed it and the cup I was still trying to get down in the trash...'that's enuff of that'...oh, yippee, cool...we went back and he checked my sugar (oh, btw, you go carb free the day before a PET, so I was soooo looking forward to a Mountain Dew at the end of this)...he explained to me he was gonna inject me with a sugar mixture and I needed to take a 45 minute nap to let it go thru my system...a nap?!? I was liking this test more and more...45 minutes later he took me into a room, strapped me to a bed thingy and I was launched for the next 20 minutes in and out of a tube...it wasn't bad, I took another nap thru most of it...
PET done, now more waiting...

Radiologists...what a big word...

We went to see the radiologist and she was just a hoot...she was a large (not fat, but tall) woman who during the course of conversation told us that she had recently adopted a baby in her 50s with her life partner...this woman was very secure with who she was and it gave me a good feeling that she was someone who could take control of a situation and since it was my situation she was going to control, I was good with that...lol...
when she first came into the office she told me she thought she must be treating a rock star cuz my surgeon AND BP had already called her that morning to discuss me and my case...once again, it was confirmed for us that I was in the care of people who wanted the best for me!
She looked at my breast and my files and made a very un-radiology decision...she felt no need for radiation...radiologists are supposed to wanna do radiation cuz that's what they do, but she wasn't suggesting it...wow, not out to just make the buck, I liked her...there was no tumor to radiate so she wanted me to get a PET scan and see her oncologist partner in case chemotherapy was needed to 'clean up' any left over cells...okay, another doctor...appointment was set for the next day & off we went...

And the results are in...

Okay, let me first mention that I was now to spend the next 2 weeks not picking anything up including our baby...it was a necessary evil in my healing but excruciating...here was my newborn baby that I had spent the last 2 months limited in how I could hold him and now I couldn't hold him at all...I'm sooooo glad he was too little to know any of this is going on...I wished that ignorant bliss for my older two kids too but alas, they did know, and they were troopers thru it all...between my family, my husband's family, my dear friends, we made a plan to get thru the next couple of weeks with me having round the clock help...it was literally overwhelming at the love of so many people who helped us...

back to the other reality, the next week it was time to go hear the results of all the icky they had cut out of my breast. We went to the surgeon's office and he told us that it was definitely cancer...I didn't realize how much in the back of my mind I had held out hope that it was not going to be...more tears...but we got it together and made an appointment with the radiologist my surgeon suggested to see what treatment would be best to have before the mastectomy, radiation or maybe chemo...we'll see...the ball was rolling and we just wanted to keep it going so we could find the end to this tunnel...

Cut it out!

Friday morning, surgery time! YAY! Of course I had some nervousness cuz after all, someone was fixin' to knock me out and cut me open but I was so excited that when I woke up that this huge demon was going to be out of my body...I checked into South Florida Baptist Hospital in Plant City and was finally home...the original doctors were with a group in Lakeland and I always felt like a number not a person there...I was in PC and knew some of the staff and my doctors and just felt like these people were really there to take care of me...
the next thing I knew I was waking up in a recovery bed...I looked down and of course there were huge bandages over my chest and I had another drain coming out of me...I knew I was still hopped up on pain meds but for the first time in many many weeks, there was no pain, no weight pulling from my chest, it was, to say the very least, nice...I remember the surgeon coming in thru my fog and telling me he removed a cyst about the size of my fist and took some of the inflamed tissue around it as well to check. He said it was an odd thing and that he couldn't be sure exactly what was going on in there but we'd know all that from the biopsy and that for now, my breast was in much better shape...I took that to mean maybe there was a sliver of hope that it wasn't cancer but we'd cross that bridge later...right now, no pain, just Heaven...
drifted back off to sleep...

A wave of relief...

I had a surgery date scheduled in the next couple of days and, even tho the pain was still excruciating and it was just now common practice to walk around with my arm up under my left breast to support its weight, we felt a wave of relief that we were now on the right track. I was going to have the cyst removed on Friday by a brilliant surgeon who I trusted and then we'd know what needed to be done next. Both the surgeon and my GP had discussed a full mastectomy after they had a chance to biopsy what they took out and I was just fine with that. Ya see, I really had resolved myself years ago that when this happened to me (with my genetic history I just knew it would) that I wouldn't waste a moment's time sweating the small stuff. The first signs of breast cancer and I had decided that both the breasts were going and that was going to be that. I understand that some women have a hard time with that as they identify their femininity with that part of their body, but I just didn't feel that way...they were just two fatty extensions of my body that if in the case they were a threat to my life could be lopped off and never worried about again...I liked living too much! We really spent a couple of days with the weight of the world off our shoulders (besides that weight was still planted firmly in my boob, lol)...it was going to be surgery to remove the cyst, prolly some chemo, and then reconstruction...I'd be as good as new...hope ran abundant in our house those next couple days and it was good!

Another day, another doctor....

I spent Monday morning on the phone getting my medical records faxed over to my GP...the receptionist felt for all the pain I was in while I was I was seeing the specialist so without telling her I was leaving her altogether, I gave her the story I wanted a second opinion so we could move forward...she got them over there for me finally that afternoon so it was Tuesday morning before I saw my GP. He examined me and even with his years of seeing everything under the sun medically, he was amazed by the size of my left breast and I could see in his face his concern and amazement that this had gotten so far out of hand. He sent me immediately over to the surgeon he worked with for him to examine me as well....this was the surgeon who operated on my Mom twice and he knew my family so he was waiting on me when we got to his office...he put me in a room and checked me out then dismissed himself to go look over all the files in my medical records of the past few months...when he came back in, he had my file and plopped up on the counter while still reading...his face kept doing interesting things...he finally started talking....first of all, he stated that it was common practice to never aspirate a cyst that had more than about 40ccs of fluid in it...remember my numbers, 125, 130, 140...the next fact he stated was that a galactocele never had clear fluid in it. It was milky and sometimes even green but never ever clear...I felt like such an idiot sitting there hearing all this and realizing that I had been wasting my time the last few weeks in agonizing pain with people who weren't even close to getting it right. He said the first thing we were going to do immediately was surgery. This man did not have concern one for what I would look like, but that I was healthy...I was finally on the same page with a doctor cuz that's all I cared about too...he scheduled me on Friday for surgery to get this massive thing out of my body...we'd talk about the next step after that...removal was imperative...my husband and I left the office with the most relief we'd had in months...we knew the enemy and it was going to be purged from my body...rock on!

We can handle this...

The next thing I actually remember about that night was calling my Dad...he'd gone thru breast cancer with my Mother and since she was gone, he'd help me figure out what to do...I told him about the conversation and the same questions whirled thru his mind...how the heck did it take 3 doctors almost 4 months with a family history like mine to run a simple test to check for cancer in a lump in my breast...no time to worry about the answer to that right this minute, he told me to call my aunt who worked for my general practitioner who also treated my Mom. I hung up and called her and, once again, explained where we were at...now, I did leave out a small piece of the story for you guys...when the breast specialist cancelled my surgery and changed gears on her diagnosis, I had called my GP to get his opinion on what she was doing cuz I was a bit perplexed...he had given me his opinion based only on the info I'd given him and said he thought she was being cautious cancelling the surgery but cautious wasn't necessarily a bad thing in this case, cuz remember, at this point, we were all assuming that from the start they ruled out cancer with an actual laboratory test cuz common sense would of dictated it and I'd asked all the right questions...my aunt gave me my GP's phone number and told me to call him right then...I did & for the fourth time that night described the most horrible details of what had transpired that night...he was dumbfounded to hear that this was where we were at and that these tests weren't done sooner...he assured me that even tho it had been four months since I found the initial lump, that this was still early detection. He also explained to me that treatments had evolved exponentially in the past decade and a half since my Mom's bout and that first and foremost, at this point, we were gonna move fast and aggressively against this thing. He wanted me to get all my records from the 'other place' to him ASAP Monday morning and as soon as he got them he wanted my butt in his office...there was always something about him that could calm me and this time was no different...I still had breast cancer but I also had my own medical superman that was gonna stand up with his bullet proof vest and help me to whip the villain...I remember getting off the phone with him and feeling alot less fogged, a bit more positive, and at least capable of sleep that night, which was all I could ask for...

If that Friday had only of been the 13th too!

So we came to the end of that week, just another one with my husband missing work between me being in too much pain to handle our baby and doctor's appointments, and long days of hoping the Percocet will help without complicating anything else in my body...Friday night was just like any other day of the week in our house anymore...until around 7pm when the phone rang...it was the breast specialist...she asked me how I was doing and let me go on about the pain and the swelling and finally in one of those 'calm doctor's concerned' voices, she informed me that she had sent the last session's fluid to the lab and it had come back being abnormal cancer cells...her words were very close to 'I still don't believe it cuz it doesn't look like cancer'...what?!?..was that suppose to mean that it might not be?!...I got out the question thru my stunned state of shock, 'well then, should I be worried or not?' It was met with 'I'm afraid you should be'...my head was spinning...didn't I ask about cancer the first time I met with her? Didn't they run tests for cancer with my family history from the very start? Didn't I repeatedly ask about this and was dismissed several times? What?! How?! Why?! I got off the phone with her as quickly as possible but not before she had told me to come in the next week so we could figure out our options...I agreed to get her off the phone so I could try to unfog my brain...
My husband had been standing there while I was talking very impatient to know what was being said on the other end...I couldn't speak for a moment but at least had the presence of mind to retreat to the bedroom quickly before one of our older two kids saw me completely fall apart...I recapped the doctor's end of the conversation for my husband and, I gotta tell ya, the next few minutes are still a fog in my mind. I know it involved tears but to tell ya the truth, it's still a blur....what to do next??? Dang, I wanted my Mom!!!

Needles, needles, and more needles....

So it was off again to the specialist to have another needle aspiration. This time she had a tech 'assist' her, actually the tech did this one. While one kept the ultrasound wand on my breast to watch for the dark patches on the screen, the other dug a needle around in my already tortured breast to try to drain all the fluid out. The did their best I guess...time to wait for the next round...

Monday never looked so good...

The specialist had told me to call her Monday morning to let her know how things went over the weekend and to give me my surgery prep directions...I made that phone call almost with giddy excitement cuz this was it...it was gonna be over soon!!! So I thought...when she answered the phone she informed me she had consulted with a colleague over the weekend from USF and they had decided that my cyst was not an operable cyst and what I had was a galactocele...it was a type of blocked milk duct that could not be removed with surgery and basically had to be treated with needle aspiration but she needed to remove the drain cuz it was allowing my body to misread the situation and continue making more fluid to replace what was coming out...she wanted me to come back in on Tuesday so we could return to this process...I hung up completely overwhelmed that we were going to have to continue this needle piercing type of treatment but at least we had a diagnosis now and the thing had a name...I went in the next day for her to take out the drain. We went back a couple of days later to needle aspirate again...about 120ccs this time...I went home with another appointment set for the next week...it filled back up again and again...was this thing ever going to go away?! As a little side note to the fun of all this, that Sunday night I went to take a shower to the glory of fluid running down the side of my body like a faucet...I freaked!!! It was coming out of the hole where she had taken out the drain tube...I called her emergency number for her to return my call and tell me that that wasn't necessarily out of the ordinary & I just need to put a maxi pad in my tube top to soak it up and hopefully while it was leaking it would ease the pain...okey doke, she was the doctor and after all, I had already toted around cabbage in my top, what was a maxi pad at this point...we went to bed to wake up the next morning to me swimming with the sheets, my pjs, and the pad all drenched....what next?!?! Little did I know...

Time to chop chop!

We went back to see the specialist a couple of days later for her to see that draining it with a needle didn't seem to be doing anything but immediate result. She decided that it was time to say surgery, something she told me at the first visit she wanted to avoid to keep me from loosing so much of my breast tissue and being lopsided...I was thrilled to her surprise cuz this just meant the end...take it out, I didn't care about the aesthetics of it. My husband didn't care about it either, we just wanted this nightmare to be over...she scheduled surgery for the next Tuesday morning and decided to put a drain in me for the weekend to give me relief from the pressure...so I left with this tube that was inserted into the side of my breast that had a bulb at the end of it, hanging from me...she gave me this velcro tube top to wear that would hold me very tight to allow the cyst to be smashed flat and the fluid to drain...it did, at least, give me some relief from that pressure, but I had to wear this tube top 24/7 and drain the bulb as it filled up. I spent the next 3 days doing just that...30ccs, 40ccs, 25cc's...every few hours, drain...the fluid coming out of it was mostly clear but sometimes it did have a light haze of blood in it....I know that's graphic but it'll mean something later on down the road to know that...

The fabulously reputed breast specialist...

I was told by more than one person what a great reputation the specialist I was going in to see had...she was associated with Moffit and USF, two great research organizations and highly regarded...thru my pain, my husband & I were just so dang happy to finally be seeing someone who could give me answers and fix me...I liked her on impact cuz she seemed so genuinely concerned with making me better...the first question I had...should I be concerned about cancer considering my family history...'doesn't walk like cancer, doesn't talk like cancer, you have nothing to worry about'....whew, now two doctors have decided it was only a cyst and of course this doctor had the labs they ran the day before so I sighed a big sigh of relief and we started brainstorming on what was going on in my breast...I explained to her that it had refilled, which was quite more than apparent by looking at the huge watermelon on my left side of my chest...she decided that we should continue the aspiration process and explained that sometimes cysts had to be drained several times to get them to collapse upon themselves and go away...here we go again, more needles draining...I think it was about 130ccs she took out that day and told me to come back in two days...off again we went, both my husband and I at least relatively sure the end of this misery for both of us was in sight...that night it filled back up...

Full steam ahead.....

So fresh on a Monday morning I wander down to the local lab for what I was told by my gyn/ob was going to be an ultrasound on my breast...FINALLY we were gonna see what the trouble was in full black and white! I get there and they take me back to a room with a, (this is where you make that evil music in your head that happens when the villain enters the screen, dun dun dun)...a mammogram machine...are they freakin' kiddin' me?!?! You think you're gonna smush my boob that is swollen and enflamed and hurting so bad that I literally have to carry my arm under it to support its weight so I can tolerate moving in a mammogram machine?!? They did and they did...the nurse who had to perform it was as kind as she could be, even putting a chair behind me so in case I passed out from the pain...with tears streaming down my face (and did I mention in anything earlier that I don't cry and have a very high tolerance for pain) they pulled this malformed piece of my anatomy and smashed it between plates on the machine to the point that milk would squeeze out of me and run down the metal...I have never felt anything like that and hope no one in their lifetime ever has to....we finished that part and they had me sit in the waiting room for the radiologist to look at the film...they finally called me back and again, and lo and behold, can you believe he thought they needed to do one more shot...I have never felt so defeated and beat up in my life, so, once again, we smashed and pulled and prodded and I cried...back out to the waiting area and called back a third time to have a very sweet girl lay me on a table and finally do the ultrasound I was expecting in the first place. This poor girl literally gasped at what she was seeing and said she had never seen a cyst that big in a woman's chest...finally, someone understood what it was and that I wasn't lactating or crazy...there was a real reason for my misery...the radiologist took a look at it all came in to tell me that he wanted to aspirate it to attempt to give me some relief....let me explain aspiration...they take a ridiculous size needle and stab it into your breast after a local anesthesia to dull the pain and suck the fluid out of your chest...okay, it sounded horrible but it was gonna start the process of making this thing go away so I was all for it....I laid on a table looking away cuz I can't stand the sight of needles, while the nurse assisting looked flabbergasted while the radiologist filled vial after vial with fluid...145ccs in total....he seemed to be relatively sure that the softness that was now in my breast would bring me some relief and sent me on my way, assuring me that the labs would be done by the time I saw the specialist the next day...I went home not sure how much help it had done as the spot of the aspiration ached as the topical wore off...I knew a couple hours later...the cyst had filled right back up and was aching more furiously than ever that night...oh I hoped that specialist was as good as her reputation!

Ain't takin' no for an answer...

So after the week of more cabbage, rubbing, sucking, pain, tears, and exhaustion, I called the doctor's office again and spoke to the nurse...I explained to her that we were to the point of no excuses, the doctor needed to see me or I needed to see one of the other doctors in the group for some 'fresh eyes' on the situation (funny choice of terms considering no eyes of my doctor had been laid on the problem as of yet, about 4 months into the situation)...she called me back once again and told me to come in...finally the man actually had me take my shirt off and physically examined my breast...he sat somberly down and began to tell me he thought I had a huge cyst that was probably going to have to be surgically removed and it was going to take half my breast off....are you kiddin' me?!?! I'm going to be deformed becuz he let this grow out of control for weeks...completely ticked off was a complete understatement to how I felt with him but I kept it to myself as he wrote me a referral to a 'fabulous breast specialist' with a wonderful reputation for the next week...ugh! Another week of holding my breast up with my hands, not taking my bra off, hoping I could get out of bed every 3 hours to feed my newborn and that my husband could go to work, of crying day and night when the pain would get too much to handle...a specialist, a woman specialist...at least the thought of that gave me something to hold onto...she would fix me and SHE would, as a female, understand...and I wait...

Massage, suck, relax...not fun words in this regard...

I let this little veggie fest go for another couple of days with squishy green stuff coming out of my bra (that at this point I was wearing around the clock for the support as much as the cabbage application)...I got in the shower, ran it as hot as I could stand it over my body and began to try to massage the lump out of my breast...I had read on the internet (what a wealth of useless & inaccurate information at times) about blocked milk ducts and how to milk myself...I'm not kidding, that's what it's called...I didn't breastfeed cuz the thought of it made me feel like a cow, and now I was milking myself...the things I read said that something the size of a granule of sand could block a milk duct causing it to swell and, if not relieved, the milk to sour inside your breast...yay, I couldn't stand the sight of curdled milk in the fridge and the thought of having it inside of me was, to say the least, nauseating. I stood in that shower for two nights in a row, firmly massaging my breast from my body to the nipple...there were points that a bit of milk would come out and I would get so excited that I'd almost forget about the blinding pain I was causing myself cuz I thought maybe the end of this nightmare was in sight...just a little granule of calcified milk will pop out of my nipple like a guy passing a kidney stone thru his tender parts and then there will be a rush of relief as the stifled milk comes flowing out...curdled or not, I relished in the thought of this....but alas, my efforts were to no avail and I was getting desperate to wrench this little 'sand demon' out of me...I borrowed a breast pump...it was almost comical, the sight of me standing in the kitchen with my boob all flopped out and this suction cup thing in my hand, almost trembling at the thought of attaching it to my breast...THIS was the exact reason I didn't breastfeed either of my kids cuz I didn't want to do this...my husband thought I was the biggest wimp he'd ever seen...LOL....it was pretty funny...so I gained my 'cojones' and put the pump on...now would be a good time to tell you that these things come with instructions and you should read them thoroughly before using them becuz 'full blast' is not the setting you're supposed to start out with...I pumped about a half a teaspoon of milk out thru this torture device with tears of agony in my eyes over the course of about 20 minutes before I found the dial to turn it down...LOL...turned it down, kept sucking...but, once again, to no avail....all I had now was a very red, very swollen, very painful boob....hope doc has better ideas tomorrow!

A walking veggie tale...

I spent a few days with cabbage leaves wilting in my bra...this wasn't seeming to be accomplishing anything though...I was in so much pain that I would wake up in the middle of the night with tears...it felt as if someone had pumped my breast with 10 pounds of concrete...gravity was not my friend...if I laid down, I was in agony, if I stood up, forgeddaboutit!!! I had to literally hold my breast's weight with my hands to rise and when I would slowly let loose of it, it was searing pain! My husband was having to get up with our newborn more times than not becuz I just couldn't take it....LITERALLY, the pain was almost just too much to bear! My left breast now was growing to be double the size of the right one and it had a huge lump in it that was hard as a rock...there was nothing coming out of my nipple, no milk, no leakage whatsoever, so I decided it was time to tell the doctor that the leafy suggestion was a bust. I called the office and spoke to the nurse, describing everything in grand detail that I had been going thru...she spoke to the doctor and returned my call...he said keep trying the cabbage...oh, and I should rub it! RUB IT?!?! It hurt to look at and he expected me to squeeze it...imagine if you can, someone running a jagged rusty knife across your belly and then for fun grinding some sea salt in it....okay, he's the doctor...I'll try anything for some relief!! Off to rub...

The doctor will fix it...

So at my first post delivery appointment with my gyn/ob, I expressed concern for the fact that my left breast was so tender and painful that I couldn't lay my 8lb baby on it...he was flippant at best, explaining that I was lactating (a word I was growing to detest) and had a blocked milk duct that would work itself out. He suggested, wait for this one....I put cabbage in my bra! He said that cabbage is a natural way to draw toxins out of the skin and that I should try it. He even joked that I would smell like a salad for a few days. Did I mention that at this point he still hadn't even peeked at my breast? He's the doctor so I ran to Publix, bought some cabbage, and began a week of being a walking salad bar...

Finally, we can get back to normal...or can we?

I went thru a couple of weeks trying to do as much as I could thru the recuperation of my surgery and I did something I hadn't the first time...I took drugs...oh, not the evil drugs, the good ones, from the doctor, for the pain, so that I could try to be a functioning mother for our family...my wonderful husband did soooo much, but I was determined to get back on my feet and return to the proper matriarch I liked to think I was...my stomach was feeling a bit better as the days went by...my breasts filled up as they should and ached like hot water bottles were shoved up under my skin...but I knew that would pass quickly as I wasn't breastfeeding...as more days went by tho, my right breast went down and softened but that dang left breast was still huge and hurt like a poker was being jabbed in it! I couldn't even hold this 8 pound little bundle on my left side.... I kept popping my pills as directed and figured it'd be fine cuz after all, I had a check up in a few days and my doctor would fix it...dang, it hurt....

Little miracles...

Oh, my baby boy!! December brought a little bundle of joy into our lives that was so overwhelming it was amazing...at 40, your body swells so much more, things ache so much worse, recovery time is so much longer, and yet, you are so much more wise to know how much to completely treasure every little movement this tiny creature makes! It was awesome!!

During this time it was hard to notice that my left breast had doubled in size becuz over the next couple of weeks I would be.....trumpets, please....LACTATING! I had a C-section and a tubal, cuz we weren't gonna have any more of these little surprises!! I remembered very vividly from my first baby that the recovery time was pretty painful and back then it lasted a couple of weeks so I knew what to expect and that it was gonna be longer this time around with my ancient body parts...so we packed everything up and headed for home and to celebrate the holiday season with this wonderful gift...

Oh, I am so paranoid!

Wow, how fat can one woman get?!? People say pregnant women glow...whatever, PREGNANT women know it's just sweat from being so dang big that you can't help yourself when trying to drag your huge butt around...alas, I digress...

After my initial questioning of my OB about the lump in my breast that was diagnosed as lactation (oh, did I mention the man never even looked at my breast, much less examine it), my next visit, I did inquire again to be sure...my Mother had breast cancer, my Grandmother had cancer, and my Great Grandmother died of breast cancer, so I felt it was a legitimate question that I included all of the above information in as I felt that I might be being overly sensitive in asking again....like I needed a reason to request my doctor to do his job...LOL...once again, no reason to worry...just lactation...YAY!!

In the beginning, there was gonna be happily ever after...

This was me...for 39 years on this earth...20 years of bartending had taught me to have a sense of humor about the world and definitely not to take things too seriously. My Mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer and for the sake of preserving her privacy since she passed in 2007 (not from breast cancer), all I will basically say is that my parents' shielded me from most of her battle cuz I guess you're not supposed to let your kids see ya suffer...most of the details I learned about what she went thru came after I was diagnosed...
At the ripe old age of 39, I had a gorgeous 11 year old daughter, a new marriage of a couple of years to the man I finally figured out I was suppose to spend the rest of my life with who wanted to afford me the life of being a stay at home mom, a 13 year old stepson, and I thought I had it all figured out...NEVER EVER SAY THOSE WORDS TO YOURSELF cuz life will throw a water balloon at your head just to wake ya up!
In March 2009 I went to see a gyn/ob with what I thought were signs of early menopause....LOL....this is why they don't let people without medical degrees make diagnosis...I was pregnant! Now if I failed to mention, my gorgeous husband is almost 8 years younger than me and thought this was great news...giving birth at 40 was not my idea of celebratory situation...it grew on me though, and after hyperventilating for a few hours and picking myself up off the floor, I came to the realization that this would be a wonderful new edition to an otherwise perfect family we were creating...so...fast forward about 7-1/2 months...
The end of October I noticed a quarter sized lump under my left nipple...hmmmmmm...I asked my OB about it and was met with the comment that I was just lactating, nothing to worry about...whew, thank goodness...I'm fine and a bit paranoid...LOL...funny tho, I don't remember lactating pre-delivery the first time around, but I am a million years old this time, so what do I know...I'll leave it to the doctor and he says I'm just fine! YAY! Baby boy due in December!

One day on the way to the market...

Okay, so it wasn't on my way to the market that I suddenly realized I had cancer...actually I was told for almost 3 months that I DIDN'T have cancer and that I had nothing to worry about...that was the beginning of a journey I could have never imagined...a journey in confusion, terror, horror, worry, self pity, loneliness, embarrassment, strength, reflection, motivation, acceptance, friendship and love...now go back and read each one of those words individually again slowly...did ya take them all in? It doesn't even begin to explain where I've been, where I'm at, and where I'm going...but I hope to as I lay out this past year (and yes, in gory detail so not for the weak at heart or soul)...



This is my journey thru stage IV breast cancer and I hope that it can be a comfort to someone, anyone who has to walk in the same footsteps!