Times Fun When You are Having Flies - Kermit the Frog

I thought often about what, if anything , to post on this day. What did I want the message to be? Who did I want to touch the most? Did I want to just summarize our last year or include things that I hadn’t before? Thinking about it was a lot of work so I decided just to write and see what happens.


One year ago today, I got the call I had breast cancer. Actually, I called the doctor because I couldn’t wait any longer but while I was on hold for her she called on the other line. At 3:32 pm. Yeppers, I remember the time. Let’s go back to the very beginning of what got me here in the first place.

Sometime during the beginning of February 2010, I felt a lump on my left breast while shaving. (I always feel the need to point out, I was shaving my arm pit not my boob.) It was hard and very different from anything I had ever felt. I knew what it was. I told Kevin about it but didn’t say, “I know its cancer!” lest I sound like a deranged lunatic. I just said, “It’s kind of weird so I’m gonna call the doctor.” He agreed and being the nagging husband he is, asked me a couple hours later if I had made the appointment all the while assuring me it was nothing. Yes, I had made the appointment but it would be two weeks before they get me in. Oh, and let me point out here that this is an appointment with my OB/GYN for an exam, not a mammogram. I’m not old enough to go in and just get a mammogram. (Don’t get me started on that BS!) So two weeks pass and I go in for my appointment. The nurse does the exam and says, “Well, you’re so young, I am sure it is nothing but just in case, let’s get a mammogram done.” I knew what it was. She left the room and came back with a mammogram scheduled for the following week for me.

The next week, I went in for the mammogram. I was the youngest one there. (Little did I know at the time that would become a norm for me during the next year.) So they call me back from the little lobby I am waiting in. At this point I have already changed clothes and am in a hospital gown with a plastic bin in my lap holding my belongings and making small talk with the other four or five women in the room. The weather’s nice isn’t it? Oh, yes, just beautiful. Mammogram is done and they ask me to wait while tech reviews it. Then they want to do a more detailed version so in for more boob squishing I go. Wait while tech reviews. Then they tell me the tech suggests a sonogram of an area of concern. So into the sonogram room we go. Takes about five minutes and I’m told, “We are sure it’s nothing but let’s get it biopsied just in case.” I knew what it was. And they schedule a biopsy for the very next day.

I go in for the biopsy and the doctor tells me that she should have the results back by the next day around 3 or so. “But, you are so young, I would bet it is just a cyst.” I knew what it was.

So during this time last year, Kevin was working insane hours. This particular day was a time he and his team pulled an all nighter. The day I was to get the results back I went into the office around 8:30 am and he left around 10:30 to go get some much needed sleep and would return to work later. I tried to keep busy all day working while looking at my phone every 5 minutes to make sure I hadn’t missed a call. Around 3:30, I just couldn’t take it anymore so I went into Kevin’s office who was still at home, shut the door and called the doctor’s office. The wonderful nurse and office assistant said, “Oh, uh, Crystal. I think she is trying to call you. Uh, hold on and let me see if I can find her.” Again, I knew what it was. While I was holding a call came on the other line and I answered it knowing it was the doctor. “Hi Crystal. This is Moya Griffin. The results of the biopsy are in and I’m afraid it’s cancer. It’s cancer. You have cancer. “ Silence. “Are you there?” Yes, I was there. “Grab a pen and paper so you can write everything down. I know it’s shocking but this will help.” Pen, paper and cancer, got it. Honestly, I don’t remember much of what was said after that except that she would know more tomorrow when Kevin and I were to go in for an appointment. All of the results weren’t back in yet so she couldn’t tell me much at this point except for it was cancer.

I dialed Kevin’s number and after several rings, he answered in the groggy voice that suggested he was still a sleep. I had held it together until I heard his voice, then I lost it. “Baby, what’s wrong, what happened?” It’s cancer. Silence. “Are you there, Kevin?” He was there. “Come home now.” “I have to go get the kids.” Oh my god, my kids. What the hell was this going to mean for them? “Can you drive?” Yes, I could drive.

I immediately left work without saying a word to anyone. I drove straight to get the kids and walked in with a smile on my face as if nothing were wrong in our world. The conversation on the way home was normal. “What was your favorite part of the day?” “Did you see Caleb today or was he in the baby room the whole time?” “Who’d you play with today?” When we pulled into the drive way, Kevin came out to meet us before we even got out of the car. The kids thought this was awesome because they hadn’t seen much of him lately. It was obvious he had been crying. Crying a lot. He later would tell me that after we got off the phone, he came downstairs and saw something on the counter that I had bought for Kaia and that’s when he lost it. We briefly hugged in the drive way. We both knew that if we did much more than that we would both lose it right there in the middle of the drive way.

As we get the kids inside Kevin says, “Did you call your parents?” I should explain now, that we hadn’t told a soul this was going on. Not my parents, my sister, friends, co-workers. No one but Kevin and I knew anything. We didn’t want to worry anyone when the possibility of it being cancer was so slim. Now we had some splaining to do. Of course, I wouldn’t call my parents until after they got home from work and I would tell them together so I would only have to say it once. Sounded like a good plan.

Kevin said he needed to call the office and tell them he wouldn’t be around for the next couple of days. Anthony needs to know. The CEO of the company we work for. Our boss. Our friend. The first person we would tell. It wasn’t a long conversation but it was reassuring. He told Kevin and I both not to worry about work, it would be handled. We do what we need to. And he would be there for anything we needed. I have said it many times before, we are lucky to work for and with such great people.

Well, it would be a couple of hours before my parents got home. Now what? We did what we do best. Dinner out and big beers. Maybe that would help calm my nerves before calling my parents. It didn’t. We put the kids to bed and it was time to call my folks. Mom answered and I made small talk for a little while and then asked where my dad was. He wasn’t home from work yet. Crappers. Then she knew something was up so I started stammering, “Well, I wanted to tell you and dad together but since that didn’t work…” What is it Crystal, are ya’ll moving? “No we aren’t moving. I have breast cancer.” Silence. I went on to explain that I didn’t have much information at this point but would know more tomorrow. And then I got in real bad trouble for not telling anyone what was going on until now. Real bad trouble. My mom then abruptly said, “I have to call Mee Maw. Is that ok?” Of course it was. Who wouldn’t want to call their mother at a time like this!? But I didn’t want too many people knowing before dad so don’t start telling other people yet.

At some point later, not too much later my dad called. Mom had told him about my “problem.” That’s what my dad would call it from then on out. I don’t think he ever said the word cancer to me. Anytime he was telling me about someone he met or someone he saw on TV that had breast cancer he would say, “She has the same problem as you.” My parents were both very supportive and I had to beg them not to come up until we knew more. Lord knows I would need them later. Both were also very concerned about how my sister would handle the news and couldn’t believe that I hadn’t even told her what was going on. Crap, I still need to tell my baby sister I have cancer. Once I got off the phone with dad, the phone didn’t stop ringing or getting text messages until I went to sleep. I seriously think there is a dedicated team that watches the phone activity of my mom’s family and when activity starts going up, they yell, “There is something going on with the Hanusch family, activity is spiking! Sound the alarm, sound the alarm! Activate the extra phone towers!” If they didn’t do that, there is no way the towers could handle that much volume.

My sister was still in school at that time so she called me as normal on her way home from class. I just let her talk and talk because I didn’t want to tell her yet and I wanted her to be home and not driving when I told her. After enough time I passed where I thought she should almost be home, I said, “Aren’t you home yet? How close are you?” Why? What’s wrong? “Nothing.” Crystal Renee you better tell me right now. “I have breast cancer.” Silence. I don’t remember what conversation we had after that but I do know that for the past year, no matter what I was going through or what was going on, I could always count on my sister to help me forget. She somehow knows when to ask or talk about the cancer and when to pretend it doesn’t exist. I don’t know how she does it but it rocks.

I was and would continue to be for months to come, completely overwhelmed with the amount of support I was already getting. The next few weeks would consist of several doctors’ appointments, many more tests and a lot of confusion. I started this blog to keep people informed of what was going on and it worked out really well. Not only did it do that but it also was a great source of inspiration and encouragement when I read people’s comments on my posts.

So here it is one year later. Stage 3A breast cancer. I have gone through lymph node removal, chemo, a double mastectomy, radiation, a multitude of tests and emotions and now I await reconstruction as my hair awkwardly grows back. On August 26, I was declared to have “no evidence of the disease” and that is beyond awesome. I still haven’t determined what I plan on doing with my cancer experience. Do I want to dedicate my life to breast cancer awareness or do I want to go back to what life was like before cancer? Can I go back to what life was like before cancer? Do I want my identity to be “the girl who had breast cancer” or do I even have a choice?

I do know one thing. I was impacted in such a positive way by this cancer. I was able to become less worried about cleaning and laundry and non-sense and more worried about spending fun times with my kids. As my husband would say, the stick isn’t as far up my ass as it used to be. This year my kids and I danced in the rain, had “snow ball” fights in the kitchen with wadded up paper towels, dyed our hair green with kool aid, I sprayed them with the water from the shower while they were fully clothed (they hated that though), they got to draw on mommy’s bald head with markers, rode an elephant... Maybe that’s what I will do with my cancer experience. I truly won’t sweat the small shit and will enjoy each day for what it is. Sure, some days, I forget to do that but I am much better than I used to be and for that I am thankful to cancer. Thank you cancer, for making me appreciate life. Oh, but also cancer, you can suck it! I kicked your ass as promised!

2010 Race for the Cure

Yesterday, along with several friends and family, I participated in the Race for the Cure.  What fun we had!  You can view the pictures on my facebook page here:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=85024&id=1060137842&l=391c746f7f

You don't have to have a facebook account to see them.  A huge thank you to all who participated and/or donated money to our team, Boobalicious!  (BTW, you can donate through November 30 by clicking here  http://austin.info-komen.org/site/TR/RacefortheCure/AUS_AustinAffiliate?team_id=140563&pg=team&fr_id=1985)

Love to all,
Crystal

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!

Phase Two - Check

I wanted an update to the blog much sooner than this but I haven’t been feeling that creative lately. I was afraid maybe my creativeness was in my boobs and that I lost it along with my boobs but today, I think I’m getting my mood to write again so maybe that is a bad theory.

I can’t believe the demolition is over! Everything went very well. Below is a short play by play as I remember it but keep in mind there were drugs involved.

We got to the hospital a little before 9 and not too long after that they called me back and started prepping me for surgery. Kevin, my parents, my sister and Kevin’s parents were all there for support. I was back in the pre-op room for about two and a half hours before surgery. They would only allow two people at a time in my room so my posse kept switching out members so they could all have equal time. There were a lot of nervous jokes made and we all tried to keep my sister away from things. She had already made a scene during her entrance into the hospital. She got lost trying to find us (to her credit, I listened to my dad give directions and I don’t think they were very good) and ended up using a nurse to radio in my whereabouts and escort her to the waiting room. I changed into my gown and lovely surgery hat, stretched out on the bed, put my hands behind my head and crossed my outstretched legs and said, “And now we wait.” I was totally serious but apparently that was a very dorky thing to do because Kevin busted out laughing and then proceeded to tell everyone the story as if I had been joking when I did it. Everything was explained very well to us and they told Kevin that they would call him about an hour and a half into the surgery to let him know how things were going but gave him a number to call if he didn’t hear from them. I decided to make sure my parents knew about that number so they would bug him about it until he called (probably five minutes into surgery). Teach him to make fun of me. About fifteen minutes before I was scheduled in the operating room, things started moving very fast: some guy came in to tell me once again how things would go and that the anesthesiologist and surgeon would be in shortly to talk to me. The anesthesiologist came in and told me how things would go. “Would you like something to calm your nerves?” Why yes I would please and make it a double. The surgeon came in and told me how things would go. The lovely lady with the calm me down meds came in and injected me and said she would be back with more right before they wheeled me out. When she walked out of the room I heard my dad ask her if he could have some too. She responded with a very sympathetic, “I wish I could.” It was down to about five minutes before go time and Kevin and Doodle were with me. My dad walked in and Doodle got up to leave but he told her to stay. They were going to break the two person limit rule. Doodle said she would go let my mom come in and my dad said, “No, I tried. She’s not breaking the rules.” Anyone who knows my mom is probably at least smiling right now (I still laugh out loud) because that is so my mom! Not going to break any rules. I remember they came in to wheel me out and that is all I remember until I woke up. They gave me some more calm me down meds and apparently as they wheeled my bed past the waiting room and my family I waved as if I was a beauty contestant in a parade. I don’t remember doing that. Next thing I know I wake up in recovery. Not in too much pain but take the meds they offer anyway. It is a big room with me and one other dude in it. I didn’t have my contacts on and had given Kevin my glasses before surgery so I couldn’t see crap but I heard his voice so I knew it was a dude. I wondered if he could tell what I was in for but then the nurse was on the phone checking on my room and yelled out, “Crystal Saffel, bi-lateral mastectomy. BI-LATERAL MASTECOMY. OK:” Then she turns to me and said, “Sorry I was so loud they couldn’t hear me but good news is your room is ready.” So they wheeled me to my room (I don’t remember the ride over) and my group of supporters were waiting for me already. They had bought me lovely gifts from the gift shop (I heard the waiting area was across from the gift shop and told Kevin it would be a great idea to by me gifts while they waited). The surgeon had told Kevin the surgery went well. It was already time for my parents to head back over to get the kids so they left along with Kevin’s parents. I was super tired and was awoken by nurses coming in to check on me periodically but for the most part got good rest. The rest of the stay went as expected: in and out of sleep, TV watching, nurses, etc. And then armed with pillows and pain killers, I was released around 4 the next day.

I am still pretty sore but mostly tired. VERY tired. I actually can’t believe how darn tired I am. This is actually more taxing than having Kaia and Caleb. My mom has been a wonderful help and I have been able to rest like never before but alas I am still tired! Thursday, I go back to the doctor and will hopefully have these stupid drains out. I will be able to move around more freely then and maybe that will help.

I want to thank everyone once again for the well wishes, texts, prayers, cards, flowers, fruit, food, and support. I just adore my support team. I’ll let you know how Thursday goes and I'll blog more about recovery and such but for now I shall rest. 

Oh, and for those wondering about the poundage of the boobage, be prepared for disappointment. I lost two pounds. Major disappointment.

Love to all.

My Biggest Issue with Breast Cancer

Weight gain! Well, ok, maybe weight gain isn’t my BIGGEST issue with breast cancer but it is up there. 10lbs people. 10 lbs is what I have gained. So that brings me to the question of the day: how much weight will I lose when I lose my girls on Thursday? Haven’t you ever wondered how much your boobs weigh? Come on, I can’t be the only one who has wondered that. So Thursday morning, I will weigh myself and then weigh myself again when I get home Friday. That should sort of tell me how much they weigh. The problem with that is my weight gain hasn’t been in my boobs so I’ll still have some work to do when I can start working out again. I can’t wait for that because I need to be ready to do the Austin Race for the Cure on November 7 (and I need to get rid of this belly so I don’t look 5 months pregnant anymore).

Speaking of the Race for the Cure (such a good segway, don’t you think?), how would you like to join our team, Boobalicious? Don’t want to join, you can donate some dinero. Originally, I set a goal for our team of $500. However, within two hours of posting it on Facebook, we met our goal thanks to two very generous donations. But that doesn’t mean we can’t raise more money! By the way, I am actually going to change the goal to $1000 (oh yes I can do that) but I’m having trouble logging into their site right now. I’ve posted the link below so if you are interested in joining or donating please do! Any amount of a donation is much appreciated!

I know I don’t have to ask but when you wake up Thursday morning, say a little prayer or send good thoughts, whatever it is that you do, for us. Us being my family and the medical team responsible for my surgery Thursday.

Love to all!


http://austin.info-komen.org/site/TR/RacefortheCure/AUS_AustinAffiliate?pg=team&fr_id=1985&team_id=140563

Guess What I'm Not Doing Today?

That’s right, I am NOT sitting in the infusion room today being healed with poisons! YAY me! It feels very strange. I keep thinking, “I am supposed to be somewhere today, what did I forget…”. Then I remember that I would normally be stuck in a chair for about three hours. My fist free Wednesday in 12 weeks.

Well, a week from now I will be going through my list and running around getting last minute things ready for my surgery. Yesterday, I spent the day with my nephew and when I got a work related email and he asked me if surgery was my work. I guess he’s heard people talk so much about my surgery that he thought that’s what I did for a job. It’s funny and sad all at the same time. Just like the book I bought for the kids, “Sammy’s Mommy Has Cancer” makes me happy and sad at the same time. I love that there are resources out there like that book and it has certainly helped Kaia understand some things (by the way, she says it like a 90 year old woman would, “Sammy’s mommy has THE cancer”) but at the same time I am sadden that the word cancer even has to be in their vocabulary. Six year old nephews and 2 year old daughters shouldn’t know those words. Nobody should know those words.

So off I go to spend my first chemo free Wednesday. I thought maybe I would celebrate with a pedicure but then realized that would mean being stuck in a chair again! I’ll save the pedi for another day…

Love to all.