Being Practical

Exhibit A Flashback

There are times in our lives when we care what we look like. Moments in time when we want to look our best, such as special occasions, date night, or during the ages of 13 thru 25... when we tell ourselves our outward appearance actually matters. One would like to believe it is not necessarily about being vain, but maybe more of a reflection of feeling good about ourselves and being comfortable in our own skin. I remember school pictures being particularly stressful: what to wear, how to fix my hair, make-up, etc. as far as I was concerned, these photos were going to be seen (and judged) for generations to come. Oh the drama! So you can imagine the horror of breaking out with an enormous, monster zit on my nose the day prior to school pictures in 7^th grade. The 'north star' had appeared like a big red beacon and as far as I was concerned, my life was over and no amount of Seabreeze or Clearasil could remedy what ailed me. So I did what any unreasonable teenager would do: I rubbed and scrubbed, then I cried and whined, and then I begged to stay home. My mom, in her ultimate love and wisdom tried to reassure me that life would go on with her unrelenting philosophy, "There is a time to be proud and a time to be practical." So aside from an asteroid hitting the earth, I was heading to school. Murphy’s Law: Things can ALWAYS become worse... refer to Exhibit A Flashback (ignoring the 80's hairdo). Imagine my exasperation when I awoke the next morning to discover all my rubbing and scrubbing had rubbed the skin raw on my nose, causing a sufficiently sized scratch down the middle of my face; the north star had morphed into Haley's Comet. I think I might have tried to convince people that my cat scratched my nose or something ridiculous, but looking back now, I am sure no one was fooled. It was as plain as the nose on my face: Vanity 1, Practicality 0.

Going Bald and Paying it Forward: To many people receiving chemotherapy, losing your hair is a standard side effect. Our oncologist recommended taking control of the issue and shaving the hair off on our own terms rather than waiting for it to slowly fall out. I had a few ideas bouncing around about how we could do this, including sporting a mohawk in Seahawk colors with a #12 carved in the side of my head or letting our girls shave it all off while creating a before and after video – anything to feel better about losing my hair. Then while I was at the cancer center waiting for a routine blood draw, I saw a young girl walk by with her parents; she wore a hat on her little bald head and walked towards the chemo room with her rolling backpack in tow. Once again, I was flooded with gratitude for our personal circumstance; our situation is relatively minor compared to what many other families are going through. Another of my mom’s priceless philosophies came to mind, “When you are feeling down, do something for someone else.” So I spoke with several coworkers at City Hall West regarding why the annual St. Baldrick’s ‘Brave the Shave’ event was not taking place and what we could do to pull an event together. With a little scrambling, several people stepping up and some rockstar PR skills, we pulled together a ‘Boise’s Bravest and Finest’ fundraising event in less than two weeks and raised over $4000 for childhood cancer research! Although our event was undoubtedly a small drop in the overall research bucket, considering the short time frame and a goal of only raising $2500, participating in this worthwhile cause and raising more than anticipated completely rallied my spirits and put personal hair loss in perspective. Instead of lamenting over the handfuls of hair as it fell out, I just hoped I would have something left to shave on St. Patrick’s Day. My family joined in to support with Tim and Josh signing up to ‘brave the shave,’ then at the event, Mason (who hadn’t had a haircut since August and absolutely LOVED his luxurious locks) surprised everyone by joining in to participate as well. Annee shaved a cool low neck design under her ponytail and Ella dyed an under section of her hair bright pink (thank you Leisl!). Hair is just hair, but family support is priceless. Vanity 0, Practicality 1.

Woowee Baldie Family

Coming to Terms with Facebook (FB): There is an art to blending in throughout life and not receiving unwanted attention. Although I have a FB page, I am terrible at updating it and have rarely paid it much thought in the past unless it was regarding a work subject or event, a necessary evil in the nonprofit sector. Many people love FB, it is part of their daily lives and to each their own – no judgement here, it has just never been my personal cup of tea. With FB's often public and invasive in nature, I have always been fairly guarded and uncomfortable discussing my private thoughts with the FB world. I think I developed a love for anonymity when we moved to Idaho twenty-three years ago – it was nice not hearing details about other people’s personal lives or feeling like our lives were a topic of discussion. Today’s online media preeminence has changed all of this; FB is just one place where people post their best and other people often compare it to their worst – as if life was not hard enough. I have written several research papers for communication classes regarding the continuous inundation of media messaging, daily communication complications, unrelenting social pressures and shifting cultural values as people (including a majority of youth) jockey for autonomy while living in a giant fishbowl. All of which were fairly skeptical of FB and the multitude of mass media messaging processes. But for every negative aspect one could say about FB, there is another side as well and it is reasonable to assume that many people enjoy positive attributes of their FB experiences. One aspect I failed to fully comprehend until recently were a few of the positive attributes found on FB such as dancing dog videos that make us smile, positive quotes, and uplifting news stories. Many people are kind in general and want to be supportive; FB is one avenue to reach out and do so. Thank you to all those who have sent us positive thoughts and messages through FB; even if I forget to ‘Like’ your comment or reply, please know all positivity is appreciated and you have shown me a different side of FB in general. Although this does not mean I will be posting or reading posts on a daily basis, I am sure Zuckerberg, in his ultimate wisdom of parasocial relationships with the public, is relieved to know there is one less skeptic regarding his FB empire. Anonymity 0, Practicality 2.    

Genetic Test Results: Yippy! I am officially not like Angelina (yea, like I needed a genetic test to tell me that) and although bald, I am not a genetic mutant like Professor X (sorry Mason). We received good news that all of my genetic testing came back negative for pathogenic mutations. What this means: two things: 1) My mother’s pathology from a previous precancer issue is not a reflection of my hereditary genes, and 2) Our girls are not carriers of the gene which would make them more susceptible to developing breast cancer, which is a relief for this mother’s heart. They will just need to start mammograms at age 35 to be safe. This may affect our surgical options in the future as well, but it is simply too soon to go there yet. One step at a time people! Worry 0, Practicality 3.

Chemo: 2 treatments down, 16 more to go! Slow and steady wins the race. There is not much more to report other than the mouth and throat sores which have brought a new level of bland and soft foods to what I can feasibly choke down. Nausea, foggy brain, exhaustion, aches and pains... nothing new… yada yada. I will not focus my energy on whining about continual symptoms or complaining that life is rough. Chemo definitely stinks, but as long as it is doing the job it is meant to do, then we will deal with whatever it brings. Chemo Complaints 0, Practicality 4.

School: I took two midterms this week, one which delivered a lower grade than I am accustom to receiving… which frustrates the hell out of me, but I am still plugging away and look forward to graduating in May. Repeat after me: It is okay to not get an A. Pride: 0, Practicality: 5.

Ode to my Sweet Mother: This past week has proven there is a time to be proud and a time to be practical, as well as proving that doing something for others never fails to lift our spirits. Thank you mom for teaching me these valuable lessons when I was young; they have stayed with me. I hope our children grasp the concepts as I often repeat these same phrases to them. I have added several other attributes to the list of what can be outplayed by practicality: Vanity, Anonymity, Worry, Complaining, Pride = zero. Practicality and service to others will win every time. Love you!

Tender Mercies

Life has a way of reminding us we cannot always control our circumstances. The plan was to have chemo on a Thursday, recover over the weekend and continue on with work and school the following week. Isn't it great when we try to make plans without actually understanding what the heck we're dealing with? As determined as I was to not let this cancer impact work, family and my efforts to graduate in May, I've found myself fairly humbled by my own ignorance this past week. As with most things in life, we do not personally realize how clueless we are until we experience situations firsthand.  

Being Tired: My chemo cocktail of Adriamycin & Cytoxan (AC) treatment itself was fairly bearable; it just felt like I had the flu. The nurses were awesome, the nausea was manageable with medications, saltines and ginger ale, the steroids made me bloated and puffy faced, and a shot of Neulasta to stimulate new white blood cells in the bone marrow the next day made my bones ache like I was eighty years old. Easy peasy, right? Not so fast lady. What I was not prepared for was the incredible level of exhaustion. This is something entirely different from being tired after having each of the kiddos or being sleep deprived when studying for finals... this is a type of exhaustion I have never encountered in my life. Forget the fever spikes, swollen joints and not being around others because of the high probability of picking up bugs... this is an entirely different ball game. Blood draws verified the chemo is doing it's job, but my body is not reproducing white blood cells fast enough. Soooo... What can I do, eat Wheaties? Drink protein mix? Nope; turns out there is nothing I can personally do to help my body catch up or mass produce white blood cells other than rest. Tim officially grounded me for the weekend and I guess it paid off because I finally have the energy to write something tonight.
Chemo Brain: This is a quirky and real thing. I watched it happen with my dad last year as he struggled to grasp his thoughts as they floated in and out of his mind. I saw his frustration as he attempted to express himself with words that wouldn't come. It is completely surreal to feel it happening to me. A silent prayer of appreciation to my dad; he made the best of it until the end and I feel him cheering me on from the other side... 'just relax Therese; it will come to you.' While attempting to work on my ten-page prospectus research paper this week, I had all my notes laid out, my outline, my paraphrased quotes...everything except that nothing I wrote made any sense. A tender mercy from my professor who reassured me that she's going to work with me on this and give me extra time. Maybe she saw in my prior work that I can actually be coherent, but for whatever reason, she is taking pitty on my foggy brain and I have decided to love her forever.
Other Tender Mercies of the Week: 
1) Holding the sweetest angel baby & spending time with Trea. My niece Kabria and her hubby welcomed sweet Emma to the world - how lucky am I to get to hug her before they move back to Rexburg next week and see my rockstar sister who stocked our freezer and reassured me I was not losing my mind. 
2) Kind words from sweet family and friends. Thank you for the cards (any mail that is not a bill brings euphoria) and small gifts of support; it means the world to know so many are thinking and praying for us. I completely stink at thank you cards... do emails count? I will try to remedy this weakness because my heart is filled with gratitude and people should know how much these small gestures are appreciated. 
3) Jake came home and we took some family photos before I start to lose my hair. Thank you Barb & Brynn! I will post them publicly eventually... I just need to savor a little. 
 4) Wiggin' out with Josh and Trea. Thank you to the American Cancer Society for the free wig trying-on session. Trying them on was the most depressing and fun thing I did all week and almost made up for the lady at the wig shop who told me I have an abnormally large head... or did she say I have a larger than average head? Either way, my head is big... I have a big freaking head. Who says that to someone about to lose all her hair? Trea tried to ease the blow by reassuring the lady it was because I'm so smart, but really, I just wanted to punch out that well-meaning lady and her iddy-biddy proportionately sized wrinkled-up head. So, yea, that thought is bouncing around in my mind.... which is apparently floating around in a melon of a giant sized head!  Here are a few photos: the Hermione Granger is totally my favorite. Just sayin'... 

5) Pew sitting with our entire posse last Sunday... words can not express. God grants us His tender mercy when we least expect it... sometimes it is when things seem grim... other times we receive these mercies like a flood washing over our hearts that all is right in the world. The trick is to humble ourselves enough to appreciate His sweet and tender mercies however they arrive... just savor them. I am not a scriptorian; never have been, but Ether 6:12 points out that humbling ourselves helps us receive these mercies. "... and when they had set their feet upon the shores of the promised land they bowed themselves down upon the face of the land and did humble themselves before the Lord, and did shed tears of joy before the Lord, because of the multitude of his tender mercies over them." I am so very blessed. Being tired, chemo brained and big-headed are completely irrelevant compared to the many tender mercies God has placed before us this past week. I am savoring each and every one of them.  
 

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!