Step 3: Begin Chemotherapy and Commence Ramble

We began chemo today and sometimes we just have to laugh. It often helps when life is randomly funny. The best is when something strikes us as funny when we least expect it. Every so often, situations occur which make us wonder if life is a clean version of an SNL skit (rare occurrence) or if we are being punk'd. It is also completely possible that our minds are just warped enough (mine especially) that we often find humor in arbitrary circumstances – and we must say it makes us smile. 
 
Curious Reaction: Tim is allergic to Saint Alphonsus Hospital. The moment we walk in the door, his eyes start to itch, nose starts to run and/or stuff up, and we feel the need to stock up on free tissues. We walk out of the hospital and he is completely fine… hmm.

Abandoned Strangers: We were led down a long corridor by a nurse to prep me for the port surgery last week. There sat an older woman in a wheelchair, wearing a hospital gown, hair completely disheveled, with a quizzical look on her face... just sitting alone in the hallway. No one else was in the hall… no nurse, doctor, or custodian… and our nurse, who was busily chatting away, made no acknowledgement of the woman’s existence. I looked around, then smiled and nodded hello as we walked by, but received the stink eye in return, which was sad, but funny too. I made Tim promise to never forget me a hospital hallway; for all we know, this woman looked like me when she first arrived that morning.

Cactus Butt: As part of my pre-chemo medications today, we received a quick warning while the nurse casually injected a fluid she referred to as ‘Cactus Butt’ into my line – we failed to remember the actual pharmaceutical name because my backside suddenly felt as though I was sitting on pins and needles. It was hilariously awkward. Although this was not something covered in Tuesday’s chemo class, rest assured, even with the prickly rear-end, booming headache and other anticipated side effects we will experience over the weekend and the upcoming months, the actual delivery of chemotherapy was fairly tolerable. I think we can do this. We might be singing another tune by May or June, but for now, we can do this. We will receive approximately 18-chemo sessions over the next five months; 1 down, 17 more to go. We will also never look at cacti the same way again.     

Final Football Observation: When reflecting upon the recent NFL football season and excellent Superbowl (woot woot Broncos! If my Seahawks can't be there, the Broncos will do) we found the celebratory touchdown dances, quarterback superhero gestures and the rampant folding-of-the-arms-and-nodding-triumphantly-to-the-crowd after each tackle, to be quite elaborate this year. These guys are seriously practicing and/or receiving assistance from showmanship professionals… they are probably in front of their bathroom mirrors mastering moves for next fall as we speak. The talented performers often receive vast sums of money in exchange for accomplishing tasks included in their job descriptions; they are stoked, even when fined by the league. We will cut the swaggering players a little slack because working in the NFL means ‘Not For Long,’ but wouldn’t it be nice to see this type of enthusiasm displayed by lesser paid professionals as well? Personally, I would like to see Tim doing a happy dance after fixing an IT issue at Deloitte, or crowds applauding police officers after a DUI arrest, or teachers performing superman poses after educating a student about a valuable life skill, or chemo nurses spiking the empty IV bags to the floor while bellowing, “I’m #1!” after a patient’s session (undoubtedly forgetting the other ten people who helped make the chemo ‘score’ possible). We would love to see people we know bust a move (awesome 80’s phrase) and create elaborate celebratory dances for doing their daily tasks in the workplace, for these entertaining one-upmanship demonstrations are not just for NFLers anymore! This would be a great picker-upper when the side effects of chemo start taking their toll over the next five months. If you're in, feel free to email a short 10 second video with your triumphant celebration dance to twoozley@gmail.com. :)

We are blessed to see extraordinary people achieving incredible tasks every day without receiving any type of fame or fortune. We are thankful for those who serve others while doing their job with very little gratitude or fanfare from society… they and YOU are the real superheroes in life. Bust a move people!      

Woozley Week of Firsts

Mason’s first fender bender in the high school parking lot. Our first auto-body realizations that taillights can be super-glued back in place but large dents are not always fixable with a toilet plunger. It's not pretty, but it'll do.

First internet hack. My Instagram account was hacked by a porn star with ironically nice boobs. Thanks for rubbing it in 'Devon Lee'... your timing is impeccable. The Instagram account is officially deleted for now. 

First PET scan initial results. Woowee! We'll learn details about it next week, but for now they said it looks as if no other cancer is detectable other than what was previously diagnosed, so I can stop worrying about every little ache and pain throughout my body... those are just from getting old.  

First torture experience. I have determined that medieval torture devices have nothing on modern medicine. Yesterday's procedure was more involved than both the previous biopsy and MRI experiences and it was decidedly not what I anticipated. Rather than laying face down on an MRI machine with 'the girls' dangling freestyle, yesterday found lefty being squeezed in a compression-style vice grip. Have to admit I dropped a few swear words (like a sailor) when they tightened the crank. After what felt like an hour (realistically 10-15 minutes)... of holding perfectly still, biting my lip while muffling my sobs and trying to hum a song in my head while inside the MRI machine, I eventually made it out and was lucky enough to receive as many numbing shots as possible to the entire area for the biopsy. Note to self: If this procedure ever needs to be repeated, request the numbing shots prior to the vice grip torture treatment.

First triple negative. There are are many different 'sub-types' of breast cancer; hence each person, regardless of the size of tumor, stage, etc. is individually different. As with all else in life, the important thing is to not compare ourselves to others. The HER2 results came back negative, which means I am classified as being a triple negative breast cancer, which means that my tumor is estrogen receptor negative, progesterone receptor negative and HER2 negative. Roughly 15% of breast cancer patients are triple negative. The good news is that this type of cancer usually responds well to chemotherapy, the bad news is that I will need chemo for approximately five months. Bring it...

First port: Tomorrow morning we'll go in for the out patient surgery/port procedure. We should have results from yesterday's biopsy in a few days. I'm not sure if it will change anything in my treatment schedule, it was mainly to verify other areas in my breast that looked cancerous. Maybe it will change the type of chemo they use, but we will need to wait until our next appointment with the oncologist to find out. We meet with him prior to starting chemo next Thursday.   

Finally, the first song I found myself humming in my head over and over during the MRI, and actually many times in the past month, has been a serious comfort. So if you are feeling fearful, I strongly recommend, "You Make Me Brave" by Amanda Cook. It has filled me with peace & thought I'd share a simple video of it I found online http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGvqcjIZKTA&sns=em.
  

Step 2: Meet with the Oncologist

Our oncologist is a friendly man who wears a Disney lanyard. This reminded me that not all cancer patients are adults. As nice as he was, I felt a rush of gratitude that our children have never had to meet an oncologist. As an adult who's brain is swimming in a foggy sea of details, I can not imagine trying to explain this stuff to a child. We are SO very fortunate.

The oncologist joked that I had a 'deer in the headlights' look on my face. Which I imagine was similar to a school picture from 4th grade... (See attached) Doh! Yep... that was a pretty accurate depiction of how I felt. 

It was a lot to take in today; I guess this is really happening... deep breaths. The sooner we start, the sooner it will all be over!

The low down: We are STILL waiting for the HER 2 test results, which will determine the type of chemo, but it looks like I will start chemo treatments on Thursday, February 25th. In the meanwhile, I will undergo several other tests and procedures: PET scan, MRI Biopsy, port placement surgical procedure, chemo class, genetic testing. 


What, When and Why? 
PET scan: 2/10: For an inside look from the eyeballs to the knees = peace of mind.
MRI Biopsy: 2/16: They need to take another biopsy while I lay face down in a machine and 'the girls' dangle free style. Good times... 
Port Placement: 2/18: They will surgically implant a port near my collarbone on the right-side to make it easier to draw blood, give IV and chemo treatments without sticking me with a thousand needles over the next six months. Yes please! 
Chemo class: 2/23: Think of it as a 'what to expect when you're expecting' except with a chemo curriculum. Finally a class with no final exam!
Genetic Testing: 2/17: Just cuz.
Start chemo: 2/25: To shrink the tumor & battle the cancer cells. Just sing "Onward Chemo soldiers..." instead of Christian soldiers; it's got an upbeat and steady rhythm.  

So, as all can see, our calendar is filling up! I am grateful for two exams and a looming internship project as well. Studying helps keep my mind from wandering... and over-thinking about the alternative is no bueno. Small group communication, media literacy education, interracial communication theory and human resource management practices are fascinating topics! I would gladly preoccupy my mind with these topics rather than think about what is currently happening inside my body. Getting lost in an occasional Downton Abbey episode is lovely as well! Bring on the British elitists!

Finally, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who is praying for our family! We feel very uplifted by your kind thoughts, comments, prayers and messages. 

Super-Fast

Thank you to everyone who has forwarded their positive thoughts and prayers; we are humbled by your love and support. We are having a family fast on Sunday prior to chowing down during the Superbowl. It's like a Super-Fast! We are fasting and praying for clarity and peace prior to meeting with the oncologist Monday morning. Feel free to join us!
Go Broncos!

Step 1: Meet with the Surgeon

There is something reassuring in knowing details. Once we know what is going to happen, we can accept it and go forth. It is the not knowing that keeps you up at night. As someone who often flies by the seat of her pants, this is a fairly new realization for me. This is why people find out the sex of their baby or hire a financial planner... to plan ahead.

The appointment with the surgeon went well today. Dr. Preier might only be as tall as Ella and have ice cold hands, but she definitely knows her stuff. Tim and I really like her. We discussed several scenarios; she drew pictures, wrote down definitions and read my nonverbal cues when I didn't understand specifics. We feel we are in good hands. 

The low down: We are starting with chemo first to reduce the size of the tumor. We will meet with the oncologist next Monday and probably start the following week or so. The 3.1cm tumor is very close to the pectoralis muscle and is pulling it upward. Chemo should help reduce this pull of the muscle, which is what is causing the pain in my chest. She hopes it is just the pull that is causing the 'shadow' on the muscle images and that the cancer cells are not spreading. We have another MRI & biopsy in the next day or two so we can rule out another area that also looks suspicious in between the tumor and the nipple. We can not meet with the oncologist until we have these biopsy results because it will help determine the treatment.

We are also waiting for the HER 2 test results, which will determine the type of chemo that is used. We know the estrogen & progesterone receptors were negative, so if the HER is negative as well, then I will be classified as a triple negative, which would mean approximately 5 months of chemo, if it is positive we will have about 4 months. 

It is difficult to classify me as a specific stage. It depends upon: 
A) If the cancer has not spread to the muscle: Stage 2a
or
B) If the cancer has spread to the muscle: Stage 3a 
We will not actually know about the muscle until after the chemo and we see how it responds. Hopefully, the tumor will shrink and the muscle will go back to normal. For either stage 2 or 3 the treatment would be similar at this time, so we are not getting hung up on the stage thing. This is a number people use regardless of the differentials and it serves no purpose than to instill fear. I'm not biting because it serves no purpose in my recovery. 

Good news: As far as we can tell, the cancer has not spread to my lymph nodes. They will not know for sure until they do the surgery, take out a few lymph nodes and dissect them.  By then, the chemo should kill any cancer cells (including any that might have spread) so the process is more of a precautionary ruling out.

Radiation & Surgery: Please do not ask if I am getting a lumpectomy, mastectomy, double mastectomy or radiation because we have no idea. It all depends upon how I respond to the chemo over the next 4-5 months. The surgeon went through all the surgery options and we will consider all the facts and make the appropriate decision at the appropriate time. I get to keep 'the girls' for a little longer, which is fine by me.

Am I similar to Angelina? Maybe, but not in a way I would prefer. We will undergo some genetic testing to find out if I have the BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene mutations. With my sister's history of ovarian cancer when she was young and my mom's DCIS pre-cancer a few years ago, there is the chance I may carry the gene. This knowledge may effect our surgical decisions. 

Okay, that's it for now. We have a plan. I will let you know when chemo starts. 
For now, I am heading to class and then to Annee's BBall game. Go Capital Eagles! If they win tonight, they will go to the district JV championship!  Go baby Wooz!