Getting RADical!

Shame on me for not updating this blog sooner! Screw that, why am I apologizing, I have cancer! Or wait, no I don’t. But I’m still in treatment so that gives me an excuse! I started radical radiation yesterday. Stage 3 of this journey for me. More on that later but first let me catch you up.

I met with my oncologist on September 10. She was thrilled with the results showing “no evidence of the disease.” Called me her favorite patient and everything. She said those were the best results that we could have asked for. My dad had come in to town to pick up my mom so they both went to the appointment with me. My mom went into the room with me and got to witness this whole interaction and see just how happy Dr. H was. I was so happy she was able to see that. We scheduled a CT Scan and a Bone Scan for October 1 to check on things and a follow up with their office in November. She told me I would have an MRI done once a year as well. She also said this would be the hardest time of my treatment. Emotionally speaking anyway. I already knew what she was talking about. She compared it to post partum depression. Post cancer depression? I have to admit that though I was so thankful, thrilled and every other positive adjective in this world that the cancer seemed to be gone, I was a little bummed. Well, maybe bummed is not the right term. I really don’t know how to explain it and the only explanation I can think of is this. I really had just started processing (really processing) the fact I had cancer and now in six months it’s gone. But I’m still in treatment and cancer is still in my life even though it’s not. Sneaky little bastard cancer. It’s like the ghost of cancer’s past. She said it would be hard because people would hear “no cancer” and expect everything to go back to normal when in fact it’s not normal. As much as I hated to hear her say this would be the hardest part, I was thankful to know my feelings were normal. I am happy to report that I got over those feelings pretty quick. I’ve said before and I will say it again, everyone deserves the right to get down in the dumps on occasion. The key is not to stay there. Think positive and be thankful for all of the wonderful things in life (and I have many!) and say goodbye to the gloomy Gus attitude! Life is too short not to enjoy it!

Anyway, the following week which was last week I met with the radiation oncologist (down stairs from Dr. H) and he was impressed with the healing so we were ready to start with radiation process. He gave me an Rx for a deodorant that doesn’t contain metal (my doesn’t either but I got his anyway). He also usually gives two Rxs for creams to help with burns but because my parents and Aunt Booboo and Uncle Johnny supplied me with Aloe Vera plants I only needed one Rx. He was so excited that I had Aloe Vera plants. The second cream I have is actually something that he developed. I apply Aloe Vera everyday once or twice a day and his cream at night every couple of days for the first three weeks and then every night after that. He said I should expect some fatigue around the end of the third week but nothing compared to chemo. Chemo didn’t knock me down too bad (except a couple of instances) so I have high hopes this should be easy peasy. So it’s time to take me to get my “markings” for the treatment. I was in the gown and walking from the exam room to the CT scan machine and this super sweet nurse was holding the back of my gown closed. As I was walking, I dropped my shirt and for some reason tried to pick it up with my foot. I ended up kicking it at this poor old man walking down the hall. Almost got him right in the face. Of course I laughed and he looked at me like you crazy bald boobless woman which made me laugh harder. But I digress…anyway they made markings on me in the form of tattoos to check my breath holds and other technical stuff I don’t feel like explaining. So my first tattoos are three tiny dots, one on my left side, and one in the middle and one on the right side all about the bottom of my rib cage. I left thinking oh, that’s not bad they made it seem like getting marked up was a big deal.

My first treatment was yesterday. Kevin and I got there and I changed into the always fashionable hospital gown. I get called back and I am super nervous for some reason. I don’t remember being that nervous for my first chemo. I think part of it was the fact that the whole staff in the radiation department is good looking. No offense to the chemo staff, you guys are good looking as well but these folks are freakishly good looking. So these freaks put me up on a table in front of a scary looking machine and start explaining everything. Doing a series of x-rays to make sure we get the spots we are supposed to, we are going to mark you up, we will be in and out of the room but this room is equipped with cameras and microphones so you aren’t ever alone (really?), take a deep breath, hold it, ok breath…on and on and on. Then they take magic markers and put big red X’s on my three tiny tattoos that I thought weren’t so bad. Then a random (I know it’s not random but whatever) purple X close to my arm pit. So now, I have a fuzzy head, no boobs and four giant (ok, maybe not giant) Xs on my body. For some reason I almost started crying. I did let one tear slip out but I am supposed to be completely still so I couldn’t wipe it. Then of course in true Crystal fashion I realized my panties were up my butt. I almost asked freakishly good looking intern guy number one to fix my panties and wipe my tear but not necessarily in that order. Picturing that in my head cracked me up but again I had to be perfectly still so I had to hold it in. Then I had to sneeze but managed to hold that in somehow. So my first radiation experience sucked. Well, not really but I thought it did. I just hate having to be still for that long while a big machine circles my chest and face and groans at me. It just feels so much colder than chemo did. Of course, the upsides of not getting sick and not having to be there that long outweighs that part of it. So I had a bad attitude yesterday but no worries, I’m totally fine. Today when I got there, I put on the lovely gown only to learn their computers were down. So I waited for an hour and then got my five minutes of treatment. It’s all very comical if you think about it. We will see what tomorrow brings. Whatever it is, I am sure I can slant it to be funny. Life should always be funny.

Love to all!

A Load Off My Chest

As many of you have probably already heard, we received the wonderful, fantastic, fabulous news today that the pathology from my mastectomy showed “no evidence of cancer”! All together now: SUCK IT CANCER! I have been on an emotional high all day! When talking about it today, my mom said, “Well, I bet that’s a load off your chest! Literally!” When I stopped laughing, I immediately said, “Can I use that for my next blog update?”

The surgeon was just as thrilled as we are. I’m not even sure my oncologist knows yet but she should be getting the report soon and plus I see her next week. I asked the surgeon if I could declare myself cancer free but she said they usually don’t let people say that until they have been free of the cancer for 10 years. She did however reluctantly say that I could use the word remission if I wanted. I want. I so want.

After we celebrated the fab news she examined me and said I was doing great and heeling really well (thank you Pink Ribbon Cowgirls for the Arnica Montana suggestion). Then it was time to take out those nasty ass drains. The thought of her pulling them out actually made me cringe but I so wanted them gone. Well, it didn’t hurt one bit. Her touching the area hurt but not the actual pulling them out. And what relief I felt when they were gone! I am still really sore and won’t be lifting the kids anytime soon but no drains is big. I can’t even begin to explain to you how uncomfortable they are. However, I will say the Breast Cancer Resource Center gave me two things that are a must have for any mastectomy survival kit: specially made pillows that you throw over your arm like a purse to help keep a nice cushion between your arms and the sensitive area and specially made camisoles that Velcro in the front and on the shoulder with built in pockets to hold the drains. Both of those lovely items were made by volunteers who in my opinion cannot get enough thank yous. So if you know anyone (hope not) who is about to go through a mastectomy, send them my way for some tricks of the trade. For instance, mom/dad/Kevin bought me a fanny pack for the shower. Strapped that baby around my waist, put the drain bulbs in it and zipped it up. Are you picturing the hotness that I have been this week in the shower? Bald, no boobs and a fanny pack holding the drains. Oh yea, I’m that sexy!

Which brings me to something I am sure many of you are wondering about: just exactly how am I dealing with the whole no boob thing. Well, I am doing really well with that. It actually doesn’t bother me at all. I was more worried about offending other folks like my mom and Kevin as they help me dress and such (I would say my sister but before I was even out of the hospital she said, I wanna see!) but I got over that real quick. I’m not saying I will be flashing anyone come Mardi Gras because it is quite hideous looking but whatever. I’m alive and able to kiss on my babies and that is what matters. Plus it is only temporary and then I get new perky ones. And until the new ones are here, I don’t have to wear a bra.

So the plan stays the same, radiation and reconstruction are next but after today’s good news, I know it’s not all for nothing. Thanks a million times for all of the prayers which have obviously been answered!

Love to all!