December 3rd signifies different things to different people. For Julianne Moore and Amanda Seyfried, it commemorates the day they were brought into this world. Through a quick Wikipedia search I learned that the very first heart transplant was performed on a human on December 3, 1967 and that the very first text message was sent by an Engineer on December 3, 1992. December 3 signifies many things, and I'm sure before 2012, it would have marked just another ordinary day for me. But December 3, 2012 will now forever have a place in my history as the day I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was the first time I heard the words "you have cancer" directed at me... into my existence, into my reality.
2 years ago I remember waking up thinking it was a normal work day, tired from the weekend and irritated that I had to trek down to Torrance for an appointment to hear the results of a biopsy I was 99% sure would be normal. I remember dragging Jon with me, promising him it would be quick and that I was sorry he had to go with me (as they make you bring someone with you to hear the results, "just in case"). Little did I know that it was the calm before the storm, that it was the day my life would turn inside out. To this day I still wonder if they insisted I bring someone with me because they already knew. I have a copy of my pathology report from an ultrasound conducted before the biopsy, a good two weeks before the diagnosis. On it it reads "ASSESSMENT: Highly suggestive of malignancy". Thanks docs... perhaps you didn't want to ruin my Thanksgiving. And for those wondering... NO they didn't give me the pathology report before my diagnosis. It was something I received only after personally requesting it, and well after I was undergoing treatment.
No matter what, I am so incredibly thankful they found it when they did. Before it got too large, before it spread to my lymph nodes. And I am so grateful that I am here with you today, cancer-free and with a whole new perspective on life, priorities and on never taking for granted the amazing things we are blessed with.
So I raise a little virtual glass honoring this 2 year anniversary of fighting for my life, learning who I am, taking care of my mind/body/spirit, and becoming a stronger person through it all.
#IWillBeFierce and #IAmUnbroken
My personal journey through breast cancer.
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Recovery
Recovery... besides the surgery itself, this is one of the least pleasant parts of battling breast cancer. Since this is now my 5th recovery from surgery, I feel like I'm quite the expert in the art of it. Yet I never remember how bad it is until I'm actually doing it.
I will say, this time has been much better than previous surgeries. The pain is manageable, a term I probably wouldn't have used in previous surgeries as I was agonizing over waiting a full 4 hours to take my next pill. The discomfort this time is mainly in my thighs, where they pulled fat for my breasts, as well as in my upper groin, where they removed skin to do the graft for my nipples. At this point, a little over the 2 week mark, I'm slowly trying to wean myself off of the pain meds and I'm eager to feel complete again... especially as I read my previous post where I was feeling so wonderful and healthy from being back on the exercise train and confident enough to partake in daily routines such as errands and meeting friends without any fears.
The fears are back, but I hope for only a short period. I'm back to gingerly walking around the house, trying not to raise my heart rate (whatever that means!), and declining activities such as meeting at restaurants to watch the games for fear of being bumped into by rowdy people or tearing a suture that needs more healing. I'm doing the t-rex thing, trying not to lift my arms. I challenge all of you to do this for 24 hours! You don't realize how much you need your range for every little movement you make. I'm back to sleeping on my back for 6 weeks, a position I detest as it causes havoc to my lower back. And I'm a walking mummy completely wrapped up in surgical tape and gauze, plus an extremely unpleasant lower garment that is much like the tightest pair of spanx you've ever worn, with a hole for the daily rituals I don't need to describe. My husband has resumed his caretaking role as my pill monitor, bathing nurse and suture/gauze replacer. And my life basically seems to be on hold until I'm back to feeling better.
I do know I'm slowly starting to feel better because I start to look around the house, nitpicking at little things I need to do. I've managed to do a little spring cleaning of my drawers, piling up 4 big bags of items to give away to Good Will. And I'm getting a little stir crazy, craving company, earning to be outdoors, missing my attempts at cooking, and aching for some good old fashion cardio to get my blood pumping!
The day of the surgery was a bit of an experience for me. As my first late afternoon surgery, I didn't get wheeled into the operating room until around 5:30pm. When I woke up from the anesthesia, the nurses who treated me had no compassion for what I just went through, and for the first time after 5 surgeries, I am filing a complaint based on the treatment I received in the recovery room. All that said, my nipples are looking pretty good, the skin graft site seems to be healing without infection, and my thighs simply feel like I had a really intense day of exercise which is a "good pain" that I gladly welcome.
Nothing much more to report... I'm recuperating and hoping for a complete and full recovery in a few short weeks!
I will say, this time has been much better than previous surgeries. The pain is manageable, a term I probably wouldn't have used in previous surgeries as I was agonizing over waiting a full 4 hours to take my next pill. The discomfort this time is mainly in my thighs, where they pulled fat for my breasts, as well as in my upper groin, where they removed skin to do the graft for my nipples. At this point, a little over the 2 week mark, I'm slowly trying to wean myself off of the pain meds and I'm eager to feel complete again... especially as I read my previous post where I was feeling so wonderful and healthy from being back on the exercise train and confident enough to partake in daily routines such as errands and meeting friends without any fears.
The fears are back, but I hope for only a short period. I'm back to gingerly walking around the house, trying not to raise my heart rate (whatever that means!), and declining activities such as meeting at restaurants to watch the games for fear of being bumped into by rowdy people or tearing a suture that needs more healing. I'm doing the t-rex thing, trying not to lift my arms. I challenge all of you to do this for 24 hours! You don't realize how much you need your range for every little movement you make. I'm back to sleeping on my back for 6 weeks, a position I detest as it causes havoc to my lower back. And I'm a walking mummy completely wrapped up in surgical tape and gauze, plus an extremely unpleasant lower garment that is much like the tightest pair of spanx you've ever worn, with a hole for the daily rituals I don't need to describe. My husband has resumed his caretaking role as my pill monitor, bathing nurse and suture/gauze replacer. And my life basically seems to be on hold until I'm back to feeling better.
I do know I'm slowly starting to feel better because I start to look around the house, nitpicking at little things I need to do. I've managed to do a little spring cleaning of my drawers, piling up 4 big bags of items to give away to Good Will. And I'm getting a little stir crazy, craving company, earning to be outdoors, missing my attempts at cooking, and aching for some good old fashion cardio to get my blood pumping!
The day of the surgery was a bit of an experience for me. As my first late afternoon surgery, I didn't get wheeled into the operating room until around 5:30pm. When I woke up from the anesthesia, the nurses who treated me had no compassion for what I just went through, and for the first time after 5 surgeries, I am filing a complaint based on the treatment I received in the recovery room. All that said, my nipples are looking pretty good, the skin graft site seems to be healing without infection, and my thighs simply feel like I had a really intense day of exercise which is a "good pain" that I gladly welcome.
Nothing much more to report... I'm recuperating and hoping for a complete and full recovery in a few short weeks!
Monday, June 16, 2014
Surgery V
June 17th is officially here... my 5th surgery after one life-altering diagnosis that created a fury of events. I am both elated and bewildered that my mind and body have survived 4 surgeries, 4 rounds of chemo, 4 rounds of Neulasta, 4 sets of breasts, 1 MRI, 1 biopsy and 1 mammogram in only a year and a half. I can't tell you how I've done it, I can only celebrate that I'm here.
Tomorrow I get my nipples. Just typing that sentence makes me laugh. Like "nipples" are equivalent to a new purse I've been eyeing in the store for months. Perhaps they are equivalent, for they will serve no functional purpose for my body. But in those 2 little body parts that all of us are born with, getting them back symbolizes so much more than I can begin to explain. If you know me, you know I'm the kind of person that finishes a job. I don't like loose ends, I don't condone incompletion. If I commit to something, I take it to the end. And that's what these nipples represent... a "complete me". Back in December of 2012, when I was meeting with Plastic Surgeons, I remember mentally charting out the reconstruction steps I would be taking. The nipples were always at the end, the last surgery of what seemed like a lifetime of steps in my battle against breast cancer. Getting rid of the cancer was always the #1 priority, but I recognized from the start that what I was about to go through would hit me deeper than the cancer itself. As a woman, breasts have always defined femininity to me. Taking them away meant loosing a part of me that defined who I was. So here I am, on the eve of getting back the last part of me that cancer took away.
Over the past few months I've learned so much about life. I travelled to China and Thailand, experiencing cultures, cuisines, languages and lifestyles I knew very little about. In China I walked the streets of Shanghai with my sister, amazed by the endless skyscrapers, the bustling streets and the busy markets. In Thailand my friend Carla and I fed baby tigers, got bucked off an elephant, got $8 daily massages, and relaxed in bright blue waters warmer than any Hawaiian tide I've ever felt. Upon returning home, Jon and I planned a road trip in less than 48 hours and hopped in the car taking us north through Big Sur, Santa Cruz, San Francisco, Trinidad, Willamette Valley and ending in Portland. We were able to see my family in Northern California, and also made a trip to see Jon's family in Indiana where we fished, went to a Pacers game and rode quads. We went to Las Vegas where to my surprise I made some serious money on the "Let It Ride" tables, and ate at some of my favorite celebrity chef's restaurants. I finally got back on the exercise train after over 1 year of not working out, and quickly remembered how restorative exercise is for both the mind and the body. I celebrated my 39th birthday with the best friends I could ever ask for. Just yesterday my friends and I ran a 5k on the sands of Manhattan Beach, toasting our victory over bloody Mary's and a delicious home cooked "British Breakfast". I've finally had the time to meet up with friends, old and new, for lunches and dinners. And I've watched in awe as one of my good friends has transformed into the most amazing Mom of a beautiful baby boy, and another one is due in one short month.
For all of this I am truly happy. So I head into tomorrows surgery with a lot of hope and optimism for what's in store for me next. (Just don't fault me if I have a few weak moments of pity during my recovery!)
More to come post-surgery... meanwhile here's some memories of the last few months.
Tomorrow I get my nipples. Just typing that sentence makes me laugh. Like "nipples" are equivalent to a new purse I've been eyeing in the store for months. Perhaps they are equivalent, for they will serve no functional purpose for my body. But in those 2 little body parts that all of us are born with, getting them back symbolizes so much more than I can begin to explain. If you know me, you know I'm the kind of person that finishes a job. I don't like loose ends, I don't condone incompletion. If I commit to something, I take it to the end. And that's what these nipples represent... a "complete me". Back in December of 2012, when I was meeting with Plastic Surgeons, I remember mentally charting out the reconstruction steps I would be taking. The nipples were always at the end, the last surgery of what seemed like a lifetime of steps in my battle against breast cancer. Getting rid of the cancer was always the #1 priority, but I recognized from the start that what I was about to go through would hit me deeper than the cancer itself. As a woman, breasts have always defined femininity to me. Taking them away meant loosing a part of me that defined who I was. So here I am, on the eve of getting back the last part of me that cancer took away.
Over the past few months I've learned so much about life. I travelled to China and Thailand, experiencing cultures, cuisines, languages and lifestyles I knew very little about. In China I walked the streets of Shanghai with my sister, amazed by the endless skyscrapers, the bustling streets and the busy markets. In Thailand my friend Carla and I fed baby tigers, got bucked off an elephant, got $8 daily massages, and relaxed in bright blue waters warmer than any Hawaiian tide I've ever felt. Upon returning home, Jon and I planned a road trip in less than 48 hours and hopped in the car taking us north through Big Sur, Santa Cruz, San Francisco, Trinidad, Willamette Valley and ending in Portland. We were able to see my family in Northern California, and also made a trip to see Jon's family in Indiana where we fished, went to a Pacers game and rode quads. We went to Las Vegas where to my surprise I made some serious money on the "Let It Ride" tables, and ate at some of my favorite celebrity chef's restaurants. I finally got back on the exercise train after over 1 year of not working out, and quickly remembered how restorative exercise is for both the mind and the body. I celebrated my 39th birthday with the best friends I could ever ask for. Just yesterday my friends and I ran a 5k on the sands of Manhattan Beach, toasting our victory over bloody Mary's and a delicious home cooked "British Breakfast". I've finally had the time to meet up with friends, old and new, for lunches and dinners. And I've watched in awe as one of my good friends has transformed into the most amazing Mom of a beautiful baby boy, and another one is due in one short month.
For all of this I am truly happy. So I head into tomorrows surgery with a lot of hope and optimism for what's in store for me next. (Just don't fault me if I have a few weak moments of pity during my recovery!)
More to come post-surgery... meanwhile here's some memories of the last few months.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Bittersweet Changes
It's been awhile since I last posted. The last 3 months flew by so quickly, I find myself retracing all the memories I forgot to cherish.
First off, the implant surgery was very successful. Two new B/C-sized packets of silicon have happily settled into their new home of my chest. Given this was the 4th surgery on my breasts, I find I've become a bit of an expert, albeit not by choice or gratitude. I went through the standard 2 weeks with drains, 6 weeks of limiting arm range, 8 weeks of constricting bras and itchy tape, and the ups and downs of starting and stopping all the different forms of pain meds. How do I feel about them? Immediately after surgery I would look at them, all bandaged up, and honestly... I just wasn't sure. In my mind I thought I'd walk out of the surgery with boobs like the ones I had picked out in the "binder of boobs" at my doctors office. I was immediately looking for the subtle slopes, the soft lines, the adjustable cleavage and the doughy plumpness of real breasts. Instead I got hard silicon balls that resembled the expanders I had lived with for the past year. The doctor has promised they will soften over time, so I'm still waiting for my doughy breasts. In addition, my skin and chest are so thin, you can make out the ripple lines from the implants. Apparently if I put on a few pounds, it should help to soften that out. Or I can choose to do a fat transfer, which would be an additional surgery on top of the one I already have scheduled to get my nipples created. I'm honestly beginning to think the anesthesia is taking a toll on my mind, so I am very hesitant about adding another surgery to my schedule this year. Perhaps I'll just dive into the pizza... sounds a lot easier and fun! I'm still a bit tender up top, but given all the surgeries I've had this year, I'm assuming that's to be expected.
In the midst of all my health issues, I've been dealing with some changes on the career front. After 5 1/2 years at my company, we underwent a merger resulting in the reduction of positions for myself and many of my colleagues. The crazy thing about life is, you take for granted things you feel are constants in your life such as health and career. Yet these are the gifts we should give thanks for each and every day. We don't have to lose them in order to be grateful for them. So after 5 1/2 years at my company, I find myself starting a new chapter in my life. It's a bittersweet change for me. As with everything in life, when something comes to an end, it's a bit sad. Change is scary, and routine can be very comfortable. But sometimes we need a little push, and I accept that things happen for a reason, and that all the obstacles I've faced over the past year are challenging me to be a better, stronger person. A person who enjoys life, who appreciates the gift of friendship, love, health, self-worth. A person who finally does stop to smell the roses, instead of focusing on how to get more to grow.
Ironically I met a holistic healer a few weeks ago, thanks to my wonderful friend Michelle. This healer read my star chart and shared with me that this year "Uranus Transits Conjunct Ascendant". Apparently this only happens once in a lifetime for people, and this is my year. Here's some of the changes that occur during this time: "You will have a tremendous need for liberation. Whatever you consider to be liberating for you, you will seek to achieve it now. A time that can mean great change for you personally, during which you break away from the past and try new and different ways of presenting yourself. This period of time will be highly energetic and stimulating, as well as quite surprising. You’re ready to break free from restrictions that have prevented you from expressing yourself to other people. During this time, you’ll reclaim your individuality and it will be much more difficult to conform to the expectations of other people."
I can't stop thinking how apropos this all is. It's in the stars, and I'm beginning to see how powerful that is.
So I start my new journey on a fresh slate. I have scheduled a little trip to China and Thailand to see a new part of the world I've always been curious about. I'm meeting up with my sister in Shanghai, and my friend Carla in Bangkok. I can't wait to experience the cultures, the food, and the beauty of a different land. I look forward to sharing more on my travels with you in the coming month. And in the meantime, this chapter is officially over and I'm excited to start writing my next one.
First off, the implant surgery was very successful. Two new B/C-sized packets of silicon have happily settled into their new home of my chest. Given this was the 4th surgery on my breasts, I find I've become a bit of an expert, albeit not by choice or gratitude. I went through the standard 2 weeks with drains, 6 weeks of limiting arm range, 8 weeks of constricting bras and itchy tape, and the ups and downs of starting and stopping all the different forms of pain meds. How do I feel about them? Immediately after surgery I would look at them, all bandaged up, and honestly... I just wasn't sure. In my mind I thought I'd walk out of the surgery with boobs like the ones I had picked out in the "binder of boobs" at my doctors office. I was immediately looking for the subtle slopes, the soft lines, the adjustable cleavage and the doughy plumpness of real breasts. Instead I got hard silicon balls that resembled the expanders I had lived with for the past year. The doctor has promised they will soften over time, so I'm still waiting for my doughy breasts. In addition, my skin and chest are so thin, you can make out the ripple lines from the implants. Apparently if I put on a few pounds, it should help to soften that out. Or I can choose to do a fat transfer, which would be an additional surgery on top of the one I already have scheduled to get my nipples created. I'm honestly beginning to think the anesthesia is taking a toll on my mind, so I am very hesitant about adding another surgery to my schedule this year. Perhaps I'll just dive into the pizza... sounds a lot easier and fun! I'm still a bit tender up top, but given all the surgeries I've had this year, I'm assuming that's to be expected.
In the midst of all my health issues, I've been dealing with some changes on the career front. After 5 1/2 years at my company, we underwent a merger resulting in the reduction of positions for myself and many of my colleagues. The crazy thing about life is, you take for granted things you feel are constants in your life such as health and career. Yet these are the gifts we should give thanks for each and every day. We don't have to lose them in order to be grateful for them. So after 5 1/2 years at my company, I find myself starting a new chapter in my life. It's a bittersweet change for me. As with everything in life, when something comes to an end, it's a bit sad. Change is scary, and routine can be very comfortable. But sometimes we need a little push, and I accept that things happen for a reason, and that all the obstacles I've faced over the past year are challenging me to be a better, stronger person. A person who enjoys life, who appreciates the gift of friendship, love, health, self-worth. A person who finally does stop to smell the roses, instead of focusing on how to get more to grow.
Ironically I met a holistic healer a few weeks ago, thanks to my wonderful friend Michelle. This healer read my star chart and shared with me that this year "Uranus Transits Conjunct Ascendant". Apparently this only happens once in a lifetime for people, and this is my year. Here's some of the changes that occur during this time: "You will have a tremendous need for liberation. Whatever you consider to be liberating for you, you will seek to achieve it now. A time that can mean great change for you personally, during which you break away from the past and try new and different ways of presenting yourself. This period of time will be highly energetic and stimulating, as well as quite surprising. You’re ready to break free from restrictions that have prevented you from expressing yourself to other people. During this time, you’ll reclaim your individuality and it will be much more difficult to conform to the expectations of other people."
I can't stop thinking how apropos this all is. It's in the stars, and I'm beginning to see how powerful that is.
So I start my new journey on a fresh slate. I have scheduled a little trip to China and Thailand to see a new part of the world I've always been curious about. I'm meeting up with my sister in Shanghai, and my friend Carla in Bangkok. I can't wait to experience the cultures, the food, and the beauty of a different land. I look forward to sharing more on my travels with you in the coming month. And in the meantime, this chapter is officially over and I'm excited to start writing my next one.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Surgery IV
Breasts, boobs, twins... they're referred to by many different names. I like to refer to mine as foreign pieces of plastic Tupperware that are as hard as rocks, round as oranges and as uncomfortable as you can imagine something would be that is sitting inside your body, stretching your skin and muscle more than it's ever been stretched before! I've lived with my expanders for almost a year now. The first pair were put inside me on January 11th, when I underwent my double mastectomy and reconstruction. That pair was removed in July when the stretching was too much for my body to handle, tearing my skin and exposing the expander to the surface. A new pair was placed inside me, a slightly more narrow pair that was supposed to fit my body a little better. Who would ever imagine I'd have 4 sets of boobs in one year!
Expanders are definitely odd things. Not only are they uncomfortable, they cause shooting pains through my chest for no apparent reason. Massaging them is supposed to be good for them, although I find it can hurt, especially right in between them. Although it's given me a sense of what my breast size will be, they're so incredibly unnatural that I don't even acknowledge them as breasts. The breasts I once had (yes, the ones that tried to kill me), have been disposed of... to some lab or trash or wherever Doctors get rid of them. The breasts I once had, had sensation. They were "private". They were me. These breasts don't feel anything when I accidentally cut a corner too tight and hit the wall (yes, this happens quite often!). They aren't sexy and private like breasts are supposed to be. I feel like I could put them on display and I wouldn't even blush with embarrassment. Hopefully they have done their job well. Hopefully my skin and muscles have stretched out to create a nice spacious home for new little bags of silicon gel. But I won't pretend to miss them. I will not miss the self consciousness when someone hugs me and I know they feel 2 rocks pressing up against them. I won't miss sleeping on my back which has caused such horrible back pain this year that I went to the Oncologist and got a bone scan because I feared something bad was going on. I won't miss looking in the mirror and seeing 2 things that are so foreign and unnatural, reminding me of what I went through this year. My Doctor has told me that people have described going from expanders to implants like going from ski boots to UGG boots. I can't wait to get my UGGs, because these ski boots have overstayed their welcome!
Which brings me to my 4th surgery of 2013, just a few short days away. On Monday December 9th I get my new UGG boobs! I will check in at 5am to St. John's in Santa Monica and undergo an approximately 4 hour surgery where my Plastic Surgeon (the wonderful Dr. Grunwald) will remove the tissue expanders and replace them with silicon implants. While she is in there, she is going to add more allograft (donor skin) to thicken my very thin skin. I'll wake up to new soft luscious boobies, ones that will hopefully jiggle a little when I shake! Unfortunately I will have drains yet again, one of the worst parts of these surgeries for me. But hell... it's a small price to pay for the long term benefits of new boobs that will hopefully look and feel a lot more natural than what I have right now, and won't be a living reminder of the pain I endured this past year. I'll be on "bed rest" of no activity for 2 weeks, limiting my arm range to elbows and below. And hopefully before I know it, I'll finally feel like my old self, something I don't even remember what was like.
You're probably wondering what's next. Whether I'll be done and can close the chapter on the hospital visits. Although I wish I could say it is, I still have a few final touches to be 100% whole again. In a few months, once I heal from the implant surgery, I will undergo another minor surgery where my Plastic Surgeon will create nipples by doing what she refers to as "origami" with my skin (no, she's not Asian!)... little folds and tucks to create a nipple. After that I'll go through around 4 rounds of tattooing to get the nipple color I want. And of course I continue to take Tamoxifen, something I will likely be on for 10 years, as well as the never-ending appointments with my Oncologist, Breast Surgeon and Plastic Surgeon. That said, this should be the last "major" surgery, and definitely a milestone I'll want to celebrate!
I do find it a little ironic that my very first blog post was exactly 1 year from Monday (my surgery date). Just this past Tuesday was exactly 1 year from the day I was diagnosed. I can't tell you how thrilled I am that 2013 will soon be coming to a close. I'm ready for this year to be part of my past.
Last, I wanted to share a little something I'm proud of. A few months ago I submitted my experience to the New York Times for a feature they were running called "Faces of Breast Cancer". They finally posted my story. If you've been following my journey, you've read these words come out of my mouth before... but I'm still darn proud that it's out there, and will hopefully inspire and help others who are going through similar experiences. Check it out here.
And one last closing video, for those few of you who didn't see this when it was making the rounds a month or so ago. I love this video, it's so inspiring and shows that although we may be dealt difficult challenges in life, it's the way we we deal with them that makes all the difference.
Click here to read the article about it.
Expanders are definitely odd things. Not only are they uncomfortable, they cause shooting pains through my chest for no apparent reason. Massaging them is supposed to be good for them, although I find it can hurt, especially right in between them. Although it's given me a sense of what my breast size will be, they're so incredibly unnatural that I don't even acknowledge them as breasts. The breasts I once had (yes, the ones that tried to kill me), have been disposed of... to some lab or trash or wherever Doctors get rid of them. The breasts I once had, had sensation. They were "private". They were me. These breasts don't feel anything when I accidentally cut a corner too tight and hit the wall (yes, this happens quite often!). They aren't sexy and private like breasts are supposed to be. I feel like I could put them on display and I wouldn't even blush with embarrassment. Hopefully they have done their job well. Hopefully my skin and muscles have stretched out to create a nice spacious home for new little bags of silicon gel. But I won't pretend to miss them. I will not miss the self consciousness when someone hugs me and I know they feel 2 rocks pressing up against them. I won't miss sleeping on my back which has caused such horrible back pain this year that I went to the Oncologist and got a bone scan because I feared something bad was going on. I won't miss looking in the mirror and seeing 2 things that are so foreign and unnatural, reminding me of what I went through this year. My Doctor has told me that people have described going from expanders to implants like going from ski boots to UGG boots. I can't wait to get my UGGs, because these ski boots have overstayed their welcome!
Which brings me to my 4th surgery of 2013, just a few short days away. On Monday December 9th I get my new UGG boobs! I will check in at 5am to St. John's in Santa Monica and undergo an approximately 4 hour surgery where my Plastic Surgeon (the wonderful Dr. Grunwald) will remove the tissue expanders and replace them with silicon implants. While she is in there, she is going to add more allograft (donor skin) to thicken my very thin skin. I'll wake up to new soft luscious boobies, ones that will hopefully jiggle a little when I shake! Unfortunately I will have drains yet again, one of the worst parts of these surgeries for me. But hell... it's a small price to pay for the long term benefits of new boobs that will hopefully look and feel a lot more natural than what I have right now, and won't be a living reminder of the pain I endured this past year. I'll be on "bed rest" of no activity for 2 weeks, limiting my arm range to elbows and below. And hopefully before I know it, I'll finally feel like my old self, something I don't even remember what was like.
You're probably wondering what's next. Whether I'll be done and can close the chapter on the hospital visits. Although I wish I could say it is, I still have a few final touches to be 100% whole again. In a few months, once I heal from the implant surgery, I will undergo another minor surgery where my Plastic Surgeon will create nipples by doing what she refers to as "origami" with my skin (no, she's not Asian!)... little folds and tucks to create a nipple. After that I'll go through around 4 rounds of tattooing to get the nipple color I want. And of course I continue to take Tamoxifen, something I will likely be on for 10 years, as well as the never-ending appointments with my Oncologist, Breast Surgeon and Plastic Surgeon. That said, this should be the last "major" surgery, and definitely a milestone I'll want to celebrate!
I do find it a little ironic that my very first blog post was exactly 1 year from Monday (my surgery date). Just this past Tuesday was exactly 1 year from the day I was diagnosed. I can't tell you how thrilled I am that 2013 will soon be coming to a close. I'm ready for this year to be part of my past.
Last, I wanted to share a little something I'm proud of. A few months ago I submitted my experience to the New York Times for a feature they were running called "Faces of Breast Cancer". They finally posted my story. If you've been following my journey, you've read these words come out of my mouth before... but I'm still darn proud that it's out there, and will hopefully inspire and help others who are going through similar experiences. Check it out here.
And one last closing video, for those few of you who didn't see this when it was making the rounds a month or so ago. I love this video, it's so inspiring and shows that although we may be dealt difficult challenges in life, it's the way we we deal with them that makes all the difference.
Click here to read the article about it.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Give Thanks
I can't believe today is Thanksgiving. The other night Jon and I were recollecting what we were doing last year at this time. It feels like yesterday, at the same time it seems like a lifetime ago - it's an odd duality. With all my health issues this year, I feel like I'm a completely different person than I was a year ago, that I've changed more than 1 year could possibly change a person. But my mind has also protected me from really remembering the hard times of this past year, the sadness, the shock, the set backs, the pain, the intense fatigue. So at the same time, last Thanksgiving seems like yesterday.
I do remember feeling optimistic last year at this time. My in-laws were in town, and I had already found the lump, gotten a mammogram and ultrasound, and had just finished getting the biopsy. It was this weekend that I was to "wait out" the results of the biopsy. I remember telling my in-laws about the lump, and feeling 99% sure that it was going to be benign. I mean, who thinks they have breast cancer at this age? I was healthy, I exercised, I ate decent enough... I was invincible. I mean, sure I drank on the weekends, worked 24/7, and powered through my days at a stress level of 10. But cancer? No way. I remember telling Jon that he had to come with me to get my results that upcoming Monday, and feeling bad that I had to pull him out of work for the morning.
When I was diagnosed that upcoming Monday, I can still feel my heart drop. I can still see the look in Jon's eyes. I can still remembering how similar to the movies that moment was... where everything gets foggy, time slows down, voices become background noise, and you're so in your head that you can almost hear your brain processing the information. So although last Thanksgiving seems like yesterday, I also feel like I've gone through a lifetime of changes in the past year.
I guess the holidays make us sentimental. They make us reminisce about the past year. And the beautiful thing about Thanksgiving, is that it makes us think about all the good things in our lives, all the things we should be thankful for. I am thankful for so many things... I am thankful for being well enough to enjoy this Thanksgiving, I am thankful for the gift of discovering myself this past year, I am thankful for my beautiful short hair, I am thankful for my furry little best friends who have slept by my side this past year, I am thankful for the most supportive husband I could have ever dreamt of, I am thankful for the laughter and support of my friends, I am thankful for the unconditional love of my family, I am thankful for this body which continues to fight on and be the army of my soul.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. I am thankful you have followed my journey, and continue to help me heal.
And here's my babies showing some Thanksgiving love to me last night...
I do remember feeling optimistic last year at this time. My in-laws were in town, and I had already found the lump, gotten a mammogram and ultrasound, and had just finished getting the biopsy. It was this weekend that I was to "wait out" the results of the biopsy. I remember telling my in-laws about the lump, and feeling 99% sure that it was going to be benign. I mean, who thinks they have breast cancer at this age? I was healthy, I exercised, I ate decent enough... I was invincible. I mean, sure I drank on the weekends, worked 24/7, and powered through my days at a stress level of 10. But cancer? No way. I remember telling Jon that he had to come with me to get my results that upcoming Monday, and feeling bad that I had to pull him out of work for the morning.
When I was diagnosed that upcoming Monday, I can still feel my heart drop. I can still see the look in Jon's eyes. I can still remembering how similar to the movies that moment was... where everything gets foggy, time slows down, voices become background noise, and you're so in your head that you can almost hear your brain processing the information. So although last Thanksgiving seems like yesterday, I also feel like I've gone through a lifetime of changes in the past year.
I guess the holidays make us sentimental. They make us reminisce about the past year. And the beautiful thing about Thanksgiving, is that it makes us think about all the good things in our lives, all the things we should be thankful for. I am thankful for so many things... I am thankful for being well enough to enjoy this Thanksgiving, I am thankful for the gift of discovering myself this past year, I am thankful for my beautiful short hair, I am thankful for my furry little best friends who have slept by my side this past year, I am thankful for the most supportive husband I could have ever dreamt of, I am thankful for the laughter and support of my friends, I am thankful for the unconditional love of my family, I am thankful for this body which continues to fight on and be the army of my soul.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. I am thankful you have followed my journey, and continue to help me heal.
And here's my babies showing some Thanksgiving love to me last night...
Friday, September 27, 2013
Pain Threshold
I am officially back to work after my last "relapse", again slowly trying to acclimate myself into the routine. I'm trying to be attentive to my body, not pushing myself too hard even though I may think I can do it. I know all too well what happened last time I did this, and I'm gravely scared for something to happen again.
After the last surgery, I basically had to start back at square 1 for my "fills". I was previously at a good solid C-cup, but during the surgery they had to completely remove my old expanders and replace them with new ones. I woke up after surgery at the start of the alphabet again... "A" may have been what I strived for in grades, but it was definitely a letter I was looking forward to leaving behind me as a "silver lining" from this whole experience! No luck, I had to start over. So over the past few weeks I've been visiting my Plastic Surgeon, slowly progressing up the alphabet of bra sizes again. But this time it's so different. The pain is unbearable. This past Wednesday I went in for one of my fills, and I asked my nurse if it was normal to feel this pain. She told me that everyone was different... that some people don't feel it at all, whereas others say it's worse than surgery. What's so funny is that during my first round of fills at the top of this year, they didn't bother me at all. I remember hearing stories that fills could be painful, but besides a little heaviness in my lungs and chest, the pain was close to a 1-3 (if you've ever been to the hospital, you know this pain scale well... with 10 being intolerable). This time around, it's a whole different ball game. My theory is that my nerves are finally coming back (this is the good news), that after my January surgery where they removed basically everything in my chest, including nerves and some muscle, that my body has been hard at work re-building those nerves and muscles. Wonderful, right? Well... I guess unless you need to get fills when you have some feeling up there! All I can say is the pain is probably one of the worst I can remember experiencing, at least for an extended period of time (mind you, I was so drugged out after the surgeries... perhaps I was in this much pain but my mind erased it!). Jon asked me if it was a throbbing. I told him to imagine the absolute worst throbbing he could think of, then take out the part of the throbbing where the pain subsides every second or so. That's how I felt, an ongoing continuous pain at the peak of the throb, so deep and intense that it literally paralyzed me. The pain is focused to just my chest, but it's literally the entire depth of that chest area. I felt like if I could simply cut my body below my chest and above my chest and sow myself back together, I could remove the pain all together. An odd thought, but believe me, the mind races everywhere when you are in pain. I can honestly say if I was in the hospital, I'd be telling them I'm at a 9. In fact I was cursing that I only had Valliums and Norcos to "help" with the pain, because they did very little to numb it and I wished I had an IV pumping something stronger into my system so I could at least tolerate it. The only word I feel I can use to describe it is debilitating. It's such a debilitating pain, you can't do anything. Breathing, laughing, moving... it all makes me scream and want to cry.
The good news is that the first 24 hours are by far the worst. Today I woke up and feel 25% better. I'm actually sitting up, typing... something I couldn't do yesterday. The pain no longer makes me feel like I'm going to lose my breakfast from sheer pain (a scary thought I was having yesterday since the action of that requires so many chest muscles that I was doing everything possible to make sure I didn't get sick). Hopefully tomorrow I'll feel even better, and the worst will be behind me. After this, I'm crossing my fingers I only have one fill left. You see, they like to go a little larger than the actual size in order to stretch the skin and muscle in preparation for the implants.
So you ask... what does a fill require? It's actually a very odd experience. The doctor gives me a shot on each breast to first numb the area. After the numbing works, she then proceeds to stick a needle in each side and injects saline into the expander. As she's doing this, I feel my breast getting larger, I feel the skin getting tighter, I feel the muscle getting stretched and I feel my lungs getting pushed on. Then voila, I'm a little larger than I was 15 minutes prior.
That's where I am today. Sore as hell, but better than 24 hours ago.
Onto a better topic. Jon and I recently returned from a very romantic trip to St. John. Jon had booked this trip back in February, when we realized we needed something good to look forward to given everything we were going to face in the upcoming months. St. John was amazing. We relaxed, went to some of the most gorgeous beaches I've ever seen, shopped, watched the sunset, and enjoyed each other and our life. Each night I made Jon walk with me down to the secret hammocks so I could swing on them and watch the night stars. There's something about me and hammocks... they give me a sense of peace and tranquility I can't find elsewhere. Our vacation was so very needed, perhaps a little break from the emotional roller coaster of this year. Don't cheat yourself out of one, they are so important for your mental health and I'm sure any doctor would prescribe one at least once a year. It reminds me of a quote I recently read from my Surgeon Kristi Funk (who was recently on the cover of LA Magazine as one of the 10 Game Changers who have transformed the future of Women's Health - of which I am so incredibly proud of!). She says... "...what is life but a long series of moments? So the more moments that are powerful or joyful, the more impactful and wonderful your life." Remember this and subscribe to it... it's those moments that count, not necessarily the ones you are stressing about right now.
P.S. A very special prayer goes out to my college friend who was around 1 year ahead of me in this horrible breast cancer battle and has been dealing with some complications. You know who you are, and I am thinking and praying for you every second of the day. Much love.
After the last surgery, I basically had to start back at square 1 for my "fills". I was previously at a good solid C-cup, but during the surgery they had to completely remove my old expanders and replace them with new ones. I woke up after surgery at the start of the alphabet again... "A" may have been what I strived for in grades, but it was definitely a letter I was looking forward to leaving behind me as a "silver lining" from this whole experience! No luck, I had to start over. So over the past few weeks I've been visiting my Plastic Surgeon, slowly progressing up the alphabet of bra sizes again. But this time it's so different. The pain is unbearable. This past Wednesday I went in for one of my fills, and I asked my nurse if it was normal to feel this pain. She told me that everyone was different... that some people don't feel it at all, whereas others say it's worse than surgery. What's so funny is that during my first round of fills at the top of this year, they didn't bother me at all. I remember hearing stories that fills could be painful, but besides a little heaviness in my lungs and chest, the pain was close to a 1-3 (if you've ever been to the hospital, you know this pain scale well... with 10 being intolerable). This time around, it's a whole different ball game. My theory is that my nerves are finally coming back (this is the good news), that after my January surgery where they removed basically everything in my chest, including nerves and some muscle, that my body has been hard at work re-building those nerves and muscles. Wonderful, right? Well... I guess unless you need to get fills when you have some feeling up there! All I can say is the pain is probably one of the worst I can remember experiencing, at least for an extended period of time (mind you, I was so drugged out after the surgeries... perhaps I was in this much pain but my mind erased it!). Jon asked me if it was a throbbing. I told him to imagine the absolute worst throbbing he could think of, then take out the part of the throbbing where the pain subsides every second or so. That's how I felt, an ongoing continuous pain at the peak of the throb, so deep and intense that it literally paralyzed me. The pain is focused to just my chest, but it's literally the entire depth of that chest area. I felt like if I could simply cut my body below my chest and above my chest and sow myself back together, I could remove the pain all together. An odd thought, but believe me, the mind races everywhere when you are in pain. I can honestly say if I was in the hospital, I'd be telling them I'm at a 9. In fact I was cursing that I only had Valliums and Norcos to "help" with the pain, because they did very little to numb it and I wished I had an IV pumping something stronger into my system so I could at least tolerate it. The only word I feel I can use to describe it is debilitating. It's such a debilitating pain, you can't do anything. Breathing, laughing, moving... it all makes me scream and want to cry.
The good news is that the first 24 hours are by far the worst. Today I woke up and feel 25% better. I'm actually sitting up, typing... something I couldn't do yesterday. The pain no longer makes me feel like I'm going to lose my breakfast from sheer pain (a scary thought I was having yesterday since the action of that requires so many chest muscles that I was doing everything possible to make sure I didn't get sick). Hopefully tomorrow I'll feel even better, and the worst will be behind me. After this, I'm crossing my fingers I only have one fill left. You see, they like to go a little larger than the actual size in order to stretch the skin and muscle in preparation for the implants.
So you ask... what does a fill require? It's actually a very odd experience. The doctor gives me a shot on each breast to first numb the area. After the numbing works, she then proceeds to stick a needle in each side and injects saline into the expander. As she's doing this, I feel my breast getting larger, I feel the skin getting tighter, I feel the muscle getting stretched and I feel my lungs getting pushed on. Then voila, I'm a little larger than I was 15 minutes prior.
That's where I am today. Sore as hell, but better than 24 hours ago.
Onto a better topic. Jon and I recently returned from a very romantic trip to St. John. Jon had booked this trip back in February, when we realized we needed something good to look forward to given everything we were going to face in the upcoming months. St. John was amazing. We relaxed, went to some of the most gorgeous beaches I've ever seen, shopped, watched the sunset, and enjoyed each other and our life. Each night I made Jon walk with me down to the secret hammocks so I could swing on them and watch the night stars. There's something about me and hammocks... they give me a sense of peace and tranquility I can't find elsewhere. Our vacation was so very needed, perhaps a little break from the emotional roller coaster of this year. Don't cheat yourself out of one, they are so important for your mental health and I'm sure any doctor would prescribe one at least once a year. It reminds me of a quote I recently read from my Surgeon Kristi Funk (who was recently on the cover of LA Magazine as one of the 10 Game Changers who have transformed the future of Women's Health - of which I am so incredibly proud of!). She says... "...what is life but a long series of moments? So the more moments that are powerful or joyful, the more impactful and wonderful your life." Remember this and subscribe to it... it's those moments that count, not necessarily the ones you are stressing about right now.
P.S. A very special prayer goes out to my college friend who was around 1 year ahead of me in this horrible breast cancer battle and has been dealing with some complications. You know who you are, and I am thinking and praying for you every second of the day. Much love.
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