Mark it down, I'm a survivor

If you read my facebook status last week after my appointment, maybe you were one of the many that were confused, but too shy to ask further?  Maybe you googled?  Maybe you read the optimistic tone and were satisfied that the results were all positive?  A few asked for more detail and a few of my blog followers don't facebook, so here is more of an update of my follow-up appointment and my recovery.

This was my facebook status and what the doctors were VERY PLEASED WITH:

Stage 2a. Two separate masses. CLEAR MARGINS!!!

6 lymph nodes taken. 1 lymph macrometasteses 2.5 mm. 1 lymph micromastastes (teeny tiny cancer cell) 4 lymph nodes without tumor cells.

Good news!! Radiation in a couple months to zap any remaining c-cells.

No more drain tubes and expansion was successful today!

Thanks so much for all the prayers!

This is what I really thought:

Who cares what they stage me at now?  If they would have done surgery prior to chemotherapy, I would have been staged 2c-3b.  Yes, it's GREAT that the chemo shrunk the masses, but what difference does the number make!?  When I was first diagnosed, I was obsessed with what stage I was.  I googled, I read books, I read pamphlets.  All of the information offered statistics-based on stage. But if I had to have chemo to achieve that stage, what's the difference?

Two separate masses. Indifferent.  What does it matter if I had one bigger tumor or two little ones?  When they stage, it matters.  If you have two tumors smaller than X, it's one letter.  When you have one tumor greater than X, it's another letter.  Does it really matter?  I have the same amount of stupid effing cancer floating around in my (unusually perky for having children) b-cup.

Going into surgery, I was most concerned with the lymph nodes.  As I've talked about before, cancer likes to spread to different parts of the body.  Lymph nodes are the way the nasty cells travel.  When I had my biopsy the report on my lymph node read: MASSIVELY OVERGROWN WITH CARCINOMA. (NOT GOOD) What I wanted to hear when they read my path report was that only dead cancer cells OR NORMAL cells were in all of the lymph nodes they retrieved from under my arm.  I don't care it the one lymph node only had ONE cell in the entire lymph node and the other it was a teeny tiny collection.   I didn't want ANY! 

I was pissed.  I held it together in the appointments.  The surgeon was quick and too the point-successful surgery, clear margins, chemo worked.  My oncologist came from a different building of the Cleveland Clinic just to review the results with me in person because she knows that I want to know exactly what is going on AND she wanted to tell me that I'm cancer free and hug me. She looked me straight in the eye and told me that she is out to cure me and that they got it...ALL.

EXCEPT I know too many people that have had cancer.

So when Heidi called to check my mental status, I couldn't mask my disappointment.  When I walked around the house Tuesday-Friday I couldn't smile unless the kids were watching me.

Yes, I was and am ELATED that the chemo shrunk the cancer.  I'm glad that I went with my instinct and started chemo immediately so that the doctors were able to get clear margins during surgery.  I think that my team of highly qualified medical professionals will do everything in their power to kill this beast. 

But, I went through hell this summer.  I have huge scars and painful scar tissue where my perky b-cups used to be.  I WANTED NO LYMPH NODES.

Further, my cousin told everyone that physically I would be fine.  I thought she was crazy.  I knew what I was getting into.  I looked at pictures online.  I have seen her incision.  I saw it when it was fresh.  I knew what I was getting into. So I thought.

When you look down in the shower and all you see is two huge incisions and your fat belly that used to look MUCH smaller because your boobs hid it, it's tough.  It's hard to force yourself to get up and walk because that will help the healing when really it would be so much easier to take a pain killer and go back to sleep.  It's hard to think that I still have many trips to "get pumped up", radiation, at least my ovaries taken if not a total hysterectomy and 10+years of drugs to go and not feel deflated.

I have already worked so hard and there is proof.  The cancer responded to the chemo.  I have the scars to prove clear margins.  Yet, I still have a long way to go.

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Saturday I decided I was over feeling sorry for myself.  I asked a friend to go walking.  Since then I've walked 2.5-3.5 miles every day.  I've watched the kids play in the backyard, walked to all the parks in town, went to the zoo, went to the mall and I'm even going into work for a few hours tomorrow.  I've looked at my husband in the eye rather than looking off in the distance to never never land feeling uncertain and scared.

I suppose I'm allowed to have a pity party for a few days, right? 

But I'm ready now.  Meeting with my radiation oncologist Monday to set up the plan of attack.  Traveling to Cleveland on Tuesday to get "pumped up" again.  Fully aware that they find traces of c-cells in the lymph nodes of A LOT of breast cancer SURVIVORS.  I'm ready to make sure my name is on the top of that list. I'm ready make my mark in ink, fully aware of all of my blessings.

Cards, jewelry, FOOD (NO MORE SWEETS!! I NEED TO FIT IN MY CLOTHES!!), pjs, encouragement, flowers, texts, calls, PRAYERS.

SO.MANY.PRAYER WARRIORS.  SO MANY PRAYERS.

So unbelievably blessed,


 

Surgery and postop

We woke up the day of surgery actually feeling rested and well. I might have shot a couple laser beams out of my eyes when we were running late, but I didn't turn anyone into a green alien. I consider that a success. 

We checked in a little after 9:30am and our buzzer rang minutes later. The first surgery was ahead of schedule and my preop started immediately. My plastic surgeon met us in preop and offered to answer any last minute questions. We told him we were set and he promised my family he would take great care of me. 

They started my iv, checked to make sure I wasn't prego (eeek, I probably would have fainted) and asked us to say goodbye. I hugged and kissed my mom, cousin, ash, Laura and Aaron and then I took a trip to the OR with a young gentlemen that recently broke up with his girlfriend. He told me about how she cheated and lied and that he'd still take her back. If he was trying to get my mind off the surgery, it worked;)

Outside the OR my surgeons nurse and the anesthesia expert met me and asked me what I was there for: double mastectomy with lymph node dissection. Yes, jake is my brother, but I'm much cooler than him and please don't base my surgery on your opinion of him;)

They wheeled me into the OR and I met the rest of the team. Doctors, nurses, and one more hug and kiss from my baby brother. They huddled and a sweet nurse told me she has been praying for me since they found out. That's all I remember until I woke up in recovery.

I was still pretty groggy when I woke up and didn't know either of the nurses next to me. I looked at the clock and started to panic!! They told me to expect 5.5-6 hours. It was only 3:30...just over four hours. They asked me if I wanted to wait alone for them to get the recovery room ready or if I wanted my husband. I wanted my husband (I was on drugs;)). When he walked in I asked him why they stopped the surgery? What's wrong?? 

He told me that everything went as planned and the doctors were very confident that the chemotherapy worked well!! Surgery could not have went better. 

I still thought they were lying to me. Heidi and my mom confirmed what Aaron told me, but I don't think I truly believed they did it until my assessment by the nurse when I took a peak. The itty bitty titty committee has a new chairperson! 

I ate the night of surgery, used the restroom and even walked the halls! They discharged me the next day and I felt pretty good all day and slept well at the Runion Hotel!

Friday I insisted on a shower. I wanted it before breakfast and I was overly confident in my abilities (similar to when I had the biopsy and turned green). I might have blacked out for a brief minute after the shower. It might have freaked both Aaron and myself out. Since then, I have been a much more compliant patient. 

Friday was pretty rough. I was scared from the fall and not in the greatest spirits, but by the end of the night I felt better. Leah, Tory, Jake and Laine all talked hospital and we enjoyed the company of our siblings.

Saturday morning I felt much better. I ate breakfast before I showered. Laine took out my pain pump and we decided to make the trip home.

 I still have two drain tubes that need measured three times a day. I can tell when the pain meds wear off. It's not fun to need assistance doing everyday tasks. I'm terrible at rest! I'm trying though. 

Tomorrow (Tuesday) is my follow up appointment. They will "pump me up" a little (add some fluid to my tissue expanders), hopefully take out at least one if the drains, but most importantly they will go over my pathology report. The stage of my cancer will be discussed. Clear margins will be a hot topic. 

So, that's the update! I'm up and mobile.  Writing this entry from Lilly's soccer game even! Thank you all so very much for all the love and prayers! A few more prayers for tomorrows appointment are appreciated!  

With lots of love,

CEO Itty Bitty Titty Committee 

Laura L. Strong

Preop

Postop

Day after waiting for them to discharge!!

Keep Your Head Up

Keep your head up, keep your heart strong!

 

All I was searching for was me.

Last week when I checked in, my head was kind of a mess.  I was overwhelmed by thoughts of surgery and how I was going to manage getting everything done and ready for my absence at the house, work, church, etc?  Overwhelmed. 

This weekend I devoted my time to the monsters while they were awake and to ME when they were sleeping.  I sipped mimosas with a few of my besties when the monsters went to school on my day off.  I had a secret society meeting with a few amazing women.  I READ!! I haven't carved out time to read in, well, since I was diagnosed.  I have attempted to read a book from a dear friend a few times, but I couldn't muster the concentration required to sit with ME. Alone in the quiet.

I've been searching A LOT lately.  For the perfect post-surgery bra. For a way to tell your children what to expect after surgery.  For ways to organize a household of active monsters while the manager is out of commission.  For temporary help at work.  For the instructions to set up my phone to receive work email.  For the most comfortable button-up pjs.  For anything really so that I don't have to just sit and be with ME.

 But what I really needed to search for was me. 

I needed to focus. Listen to my heart.  Have the difficult conversations rather than continue worry about them.  I needed to just. sit. still. and close my eyes and breathe.

So, this weekend I sat with my beautiful monsters and we talked about surgery.  My white haired baby boy asked me if I was going to survive. (Not sure where he's hearing this word or even that he knows what it means, but when you hear this blunt questions from such a cute little monster, it's certainly enough to take your breath away.) The best response I could muster was simply to tell him, "that's the plan, bud"! 

My curly haired baby girl asked if they can come and visit me at the hospital or Uncle Jakey's and I had to tell her no. Even though Mommy would love to see them as soon as surgery is over, my body will not be ready for little ones to visit for a few days. In the meantime, I just want them all to have fun with their grandparents and friends.  She teared up and said she will miss me and it took everything in me not to breakdown. 

While we were discussing the surgery, my monster that jumps up and down all day long just absorbed it all ...until I tucked her in later that evening.  Mommy, I read the what to expect when your Mom has cancer book again.  I think I'm ready for the surgery.  We've been learning chores lately so that we can help, right? Camille and I have a plan.  Monday and Saturday we will sweep the downstairs and Wednesday we will fold towels.  We will all keep our room picked up and tuck you in every night when you come home.

She's eight.

I hate that she has to get this, but I told her that all sounded wonderful.  In addition, Daddy especially needs them all to be good listeners.   She agreed.

It was difficult.  I know I'll have a hard time leaving them Tuesday night.  I know that they can't truly wrap their heads around what is in store next week, but I'm going with honesty is the best policy.  I've been holding off on the conversations because I didn't want to scare them.  Cancer is scary though.

As I was searching for me, I asked myself a couple tough questions.  The 'what if' questions that you don't really discuss.  Rather than let them eat at me, I bluntly asked my partner what his expectations of me are.  As the mother of his children, as his wife and best friend, what would he expect IF.

If this or that or this and that or after this long or after that treatment.  What do YOU expect of ME.  What do I expect of ME and what am I willing to do.

I've thought about how he could have picked any woman and he picked me.  I was thinking, "Man, he drew the short straw on this one!" But after we talked and I know what he expects, I know that no matter what happens, he already has the very best parts of me. 

The little boy that told me last week, "Mommy, I love you more than God loves me".   The little girl that climbed into bed last night and whispered, "Can I lay with you tonight, I didn't get to see you that much today".  The young girl that's always smiling, yet wise beyond her years, that plans to play Mommy in my absence.

And you know what, that's enough.  Even if all of the "what-ifs" happen, that's enough.

Now. Now that I've had the difficult conversations, I can take the rest of the week to search for me.  Feed my soul with the food it has so desperately been calling for.  I was searching for all of the things that I thought I needed, but all I needed to search for was me. 

I'm ready now.  My body and mind are strong and ready to fight, no matter what they find when they open me up.

Special prayers today for Erica as she meets with doctors and maps out the course of action.  Special prayers for AD tomorrow for good test results. Special prayers for AC to make a full recovery.

SPECIAL THANK GOD for the BRCA results my cousins received recently and directional and loving prayers to my aunt that unfortunately is a carrier.

Keep your head up, keep your heart strong,