I can’t believe it has been thirty-nine days. On one hand, feels like only a few. On the other hand, those days before knowing I have cancer seem so far in the past that they were lived by a different person. Who was she?
I had a lumpectomy, and every doctor was certain certain certain there would be no nodes involved but they wanted to do the sentinel node biopsy anyway just to make sure. The sentinel node had a cancer spot, so they took out ten more nodes. Right away I am told, Do not ever let anyone take your blood pressure on the left arm, Do not ever let anyone take blood from the left arm, Do not ever let anyone put an IV in your left arm. Why? Lymphedema, which is swelling. Don't want it. okay...
The lump i HAD was small (0.9 CM) but mighty (invasive, moderately differentiated, grade 2 tumor). So I am in Stage IIA of Invasive Ductal Cell Carcinoma by all accounts.
Now, why was every doctor certain it hadn't spread? Were they being kind to me so I wouldn't worry ahead of time? I am okay with that. They still did what they needed to do to see. I'm okay with not flooding me with fear.
As for Prognostic Markers, I am E and P positive, HER normal, so I will go on hormone depleting drug after all the treatments. I will have four to six sessions of chemotherapy three weeks apart to zap any cancer cells that broke off and started a new country. And then six to seven weeks of radiation to zap anything the surgery didn’t get or that was starting in the breasts.
It seems to me like a lot of women with Stage 0 or 1 get double mastectomies. The surgeon and oncologist both agreed one hundred percent that a lumpectomy was the way to go. I questioned them both several times. They were sure, sure sure. But then, that was when they were certain it hadn’t spread to a lymph node. See how doubt can creep in there…. The five year cure rate has gone from ninety-eight percent to eighty-seven percent.. still good odds. I see me in the eighty-seven percent, I really do.
I know I am to be learning lessons. Or maybe just building character. I have to make sense of all this. There just has to be a reason, or at least some benefit. Because I know the next months will be tough. Give me a reason. Some thoughts:
1. I will increase my self esteem. I am a high ego, low self worth person. Maybe that will bump up. I have a large amount of confidence in my abilities. But I see myself as not being that important, not that lovable. I just do.
2. So many people are sending me cards, calling me, doing kind things. They are so compassionate that I have breast cancer. Well, every single person in the world has something breaking their hearts right this very second. And some of us people have huge battles we face internally or externally, but you just can't put a cute tag on them. We need to be compassionate and loving with everyone. Everyone needs to know they are precious.
3. I am not superwoman, the superwoman cape is now hung up and I am NOT taking it back down.
4. My husband is an angel. He is great at keeping the atmosphere light and never making me feel like I am a burden even when he has to clean out the surgery drain junk or redo my dressing or not have any food in the refrigerator because I haven’t shopped for two weeks.
5. Life goes on without me. The baseball league goes on without my micro managing. And the house seems to be chugging along with out me running the show.
6. I can let things be NOT PERFECT and it is okay. One of my favorite quotes was by Christie Brinkley- life doesn’t have to be perfect to be perfect. That’s true.
7. Some people are so sad I have breast cancer, that I end up telling THEM it will be all right.
8. Its okay to not answer the telephone whenever it rings, if you are napping.
9. Don’t complain, don’t think you have it bad. I complained two months ago - why does this or that have to be so difficult. Well, I would love to be back there two months ago with THOSE problems..
I tried to start planning how I would get together with all my friends, weekly meetings and we will laugh and talk, etc. NO NO NO… I will get the support I need, when I need it. I just need to let it happen. I don’t need to plan everything. God will provide.
Who is there to support Mike? I remember so well how really really tough it was to be the caregiver at some moments when Mike first was diagnosed with lymphoma sixteen years ago… everyone taking care of all his needs, and I was exhausted, scared I wasn't doing enough for him, trying to keep life semi-normal for our two kids … I don’t want him to ever get that way. I want him to feel his cup is filled up and overflowing with kindness and love and support from friends. He just finished his last phototherapy for Cutaneous T-cell Lymphoma last week. So we are healing together.
I planned to write every day in this journal. Well, I’m six for thirty nine? See, I'm learning that Life doesn't have to be perfect to be perfect. Thank you Jesus!
They days just pass by. I have been throwing myself into getting everything settled in the house, with Mike's Dad and my Dad. Want to free up time for me to focus on me this summer. Who knows how I will be feeling?
Mike and I are watching one episode of Seinfeld every night right before bed. Laughter is the best medicine. I am finding the episodes very calming. Distracting for twenty five minutes, and so funny.
The surgery, there were some angels. B who came to the hospital right after and went out and found just the sleeping garments I needed, because no one told me I would be sleeping in different stuff than normal! And J who came up the day of surgery and ate lunch with Mike and Corey. And J who joined in at the hospital and at lunch. A Godsend, as the surgery was supposed to be an hour and it was two and a half hours…
I’m pouring in the anti oxidants, fruit and veggies and supplements. Exercising every day. I will be in the best shape ever before the first chemo starts… Well, the best shape for me that is...
