Relief!

Got the results and the lump is benign. That word is music to my ears! Biopsies are no fun at all...neither is the wait (which, thankfully, was not very long). I shouldn't have to go back for another year. Hurray! Well, there is a chance that the lump will have to be removed anyway...but I am not bothered about that. It is not the same type of surgery as before and I think the surgeon may just decide to leave it for now. Now...back to summer. What?? There's only a week left! Then it's back to school for the kids who have reached the lolling about, bored, swinging legs and sighing stage of the summer holidays. To school with you!

No encore, thank you!

I went for a mammogram and ultrasound the other day...always fun! I was hoping for the all-clear...silly me. Oh no, not so fast, you don't get let off that lightly. A few days later I get a call from BCCA.
- 'You need to come in for an ultra-sound guided biopsy. Monday at 11:00am.'
- 'Errr...say, whaaat? Okay...what is that?'
- 'It's a biopsy guided by ultra-sound.'
- 'Oh thanks for clearing up my confusion.' So helpful.

Apparently it is ordered by the radiologist and done under local anesthetic; it takes about an hour. That's the amount of information I have been given. So here we go again. Nothing to worry about, lots of women have biopsies. Only it is not so easy for me to say that now. I was disappointed, to say the least. Called back in for yet another examination on the other breast. Excuse my language but...fuck that! I'm hoping they're just being hyper-vigilant, as they should be, but really? But do I need this? No I fucking do not!! Deep breaths...and try not to think about it. At least I will get another opportunity to flutter my eye-lashes at the handsome Oncologist...joke! I would never do anything like that. It would be very unprofessional and I take my patient responsibilities very seriously. I debated whether to say anything to anyone; sympathy and concern are not always welcome because we'd rather not need either. But of course I appreciate it is well meaning. And it is always nice to be cared about.

Despite having that in the back of my mind, we had a good week. It has been fun hanging with Jenn and Sapphire and Little River...as well as Nicole and Gala. The girls have had a great time playing in the sun. They seem to have ironed out their differences and are having a good time together. Bronwyn can be very bossy. But I have absolutely no idea where she gets it from.

So I am just trying to look forward to a relaxing weekend with the kids. Weather looks good so we will spend some time at the beach, feed carrots to fat rabbits, and maybe take a trip to Granville Island. And I will try not to think about Monday or any of that.

Highs and lows

Well, my ultrasound came back normal...thank goodness for that. It was a relief. I was more anxious about it than I realised. Now I can relax until August when it's time for the next round of mammograms and ultrasounds. There was yet another examination, with optional clumsy student taking a turn. I suppose he has to learn somehow. There is going to come a point where nearly every medical professional in Vancouver has seen my breasts. My oncologist is actually quite handsome (and young). He's also very personable. I imagine he has to fight off the nurses - not to mention the patients: "Really? Are you sure you don't need to examine me? I mean...I might have something...perhaps you should...just to be sure. I don't mind if the student watches."

I got my hair cut. Really cut. It is a short bob and I think it looks so much better and am very happy with it. I feel more like myself (whatever that means). The reaction of people so far has been extremely positive. So much so that I realise I must have looked crap for some time. Anyway, no more! Take that 6-year old kid who said I looked to old to be a mum. What do you think now...huh? huh? I will post a pic soon.

Both Bronwyn and River got struck down with the flu...on the same day. Poor things (poor me). I actually think it's better when they get sick at the same time and not one after the other. But we missed out on a beautiful day on Thursday. Yesterday and today it has rained non-stop (rain is now forecast for Vancouver until the end of time), so that's okay. Except I am going mad.

My courses at the community centre are going well. A few really sweet 4-year olds (mainly boys). They are a lot of fun; feisty and engaged in the stuff we are doing. I hope I can get more parents to register their kids, but I was told that enrollment in community centre programs is low across the board. My theory is that there are swanky tutoring businesses popping up everywhere. They are flashier and more expensive, but that is exactly the mentality around here it seems. People expect, and want to pay more. It as if they aren't getting good service if they're not paying over the odds for it.

In other news I seem to have injured my thumb. I have self-diagnosed, with the help of Dr. Google, De Quervain Syndrome. It is quite painful and I can't use my left hand much (thank goodness it's the left). I can hardly lift anything, or open a door with it. I had been noticing some discomfort for a while (especially when lifting River, pushing the stroller, or driving), but the other day I tried to twist open the lid of a jar that was quite stuck. The next thing..."OW...that hurts...a lot!" Lesson learned: NEVER try to twist off a lid that is stuck. ALWAYS get someone else to do it so that they f$$k up their wrist instead, (this particularly applies to women like me who don't want to appear weak and "girly" and so do stupid things and get injured). I am going to try using a splint for a while, see how it goes.

Going out for Indian food with Wendy and Simon tonight. I can't wait. Eta: We are finally getting reconnected after nearly two years of Facebook-ing. I used to work with Wendy at Richmond Hospital; my first job when I finished mat. leave with Bronwyn. We had some really good laughs over our lunchtimes. Some of my favourite workplace memories! Simon shares Mark's passion for F1 and racing in general. We also borrowed a video about 4 years ago and need to give it back! And now a night out without children, just like...what is it?...oh yes...real grown-ups! Trini offered to babysit (fool), too late to get out of it now...eta: it was a good night out..went to Maurya Restaurant on Broadway; great food and really good company. And thanks Treen!

Checking up

So I am preparing to go to BCCA for a breast ultrasound today. I think it is routine, but I am anxious about it. Will I feel this way every time I go for a check-up? What is it I feel exactly? A memory of that sense of nonchalance I had when I first ever went for a scan. How it didn't turn out so good. Is it "normal" that I should feel worried?

I used to play MGMT on my way to BCCA. I wanted something upbeat. Now the songs I like from that album send me back to a dark concrete multi-storey parking lot, level 2b. But it's not exactly a bad memory, just a very clear one.

Here is a song that can only evoke good memories. One of my all-time favourites, "Heartbeats" by Jose Gonzalez from his album "Veneer". I don't watch TV so I completely missed the Sony commercial. It is magical.



I was listening to an interview with Jo Average, a fantastic, inspirational Vancouver-based artist. He was talking about his art and his life and at one point he mentioned music. He said when he heard a piece of music that he loved he just had to share it so that other people could experience the joy that he felt. The song he mentioned was his favourite was "Somewhere", by Tom Waits. Also one of my favourite songs. I think that, unlike other mediums, music has the power to position us within an emotion, or a remembered time.

Keeping busy...

Me babbies off to school...

Here are my babies on the walk to Bronwyn's school. Both with their "familiars" (Bronwyn's, a stuffy and River's, a ball). River now has 4 balls in his collection, although strictly speaking one of them is Bronwyn's. He carries a ball nearly everywhere he goes. What's notable is that I am not taking the stroller many places any more. We've been working on walking (without running) and he is doing so well. He has even started to point things out on the walks (admittedly the same things every time...but it's a start). I am able to take him to the grocery store to buy a few things and he mostly stays with me. His reward at the end is to go up and down the elevator. It is great to be able to go out and about with him and for him to (mostly) stay close. Bronwyn is always fun to walk with. We have some of our best conversations on the way to and from school.

We are currently in the process of changing River's Behavioural Consultant. It's been quite sad and I'll feel better when we have our new routine. This Consultant and her team have been with us since the beginning and they have been great. River has come a long way in nearly two years. But we had always wanted to go with a particular consultant who, up until recently, did not have room for River. It was a tough decision but we decided to change. There were a couple of reasons, but one was just for change itself. I am looking forward to working with the new Consultant. River will keep his current BI's and that is his day to day contact. Aspects of his program will change. I am sorry to say goodbye, but I am looking forward to a fresh look at his intervention program. I just don't like change, and I felt bad about it.

All in all it has been a fun, busy week.On Wednesday morning, I got my baby fix when I went to visit Michelle and baby Miles. Michelle and I aim to make it a regular knitting morning...yay! I may actually, really, finish something! Last night we had dinner with Mike, Sarah and Nicky. It was a good evening. Delicious home-made pizza and good company!

Next Wednesday I will have to forego our knitting morning because I have an appointment for a breast ultrasound. I was hoping not to have to think about that for a while, and I'd forgotten about it until a day or so ago when I happened to check my appointments. It's actually for a small lump that showed up on my right breast a few months ago (just as I was finishing treatment on my left breast). I think it is pretty routine. There are times when I feel like I have time-bombs strapped to my chest.

Off to see "The King's Speech" tonight. I admit I am going because of the hype. Nothing in the premise seems interesting...but I only hear good things about it. I can't even remember the last time I went to a movie. I am going with my good friend Michelle (other Michelle). Looking forward to it. Trini and Lorne are coming over for dinner tomorrow, so I am looking forward to that. Keepin' busy...

Great weekend...long walk...

It was a busy weekend. I can't remember if I mentioned before that I was raising money for breast cancer research and treatment by joining the Weekend to End Women's Cancers, which is a 35km one day walk (or a 60km 2-day walk). My good friend Michelle, and my sis, Katrina also fund raised and joined the walk with me. We managed to raise almost $5000. On Saturday we did the gruelling 35km walk through and around Vancouver on a blistering hot day. We arrived at UBC Thunderbird so a sea of pink. We had a breakfast and then did some stretches with 1100 other people. Then we set off.

Just before we got going...

It was wonderful to do the walk with Michelle and Trini. We had such a laugh, despite our aches. I saw parts of Vancouver that I haven't seen in about 15 years. I was reminded (not that I need a reminder) or what a beautiful, amazing city Vancouver is. Our mood would swing from giddy...to cranky...to using foul language...to giddy again. And even when we were cranky we were having a laugh. The spirit on the walk was fabulous - everyone joining in the cause. There were both many men and women on the walk and many of the volunteers (crew) helping out were men. So many people are affected by women's cancers. One of the funnest parts of the walk was the people that just came out to cheer us on, or spritz us with water...or, in this case, kids that were handing out cups of iced water.

 It got very hot by lunchtime...5 hours into the walk. Michelle couldn't resist dipping her feet into a water fountain.

 Another little supporter with a great T-shirt...

And we finally made it...8 hours (sore feet, back, and legs) later...I had no idea 35km was such a long way! I think it is a great way to raise money ($2.4mil was raised) and we would do it again. Our feet ached and my back is still sore...but we went home, had a cool shower or bath, and put our feet up. When you are on the cancer journey it is just one gruelling day after another. Maybe next year we'll do the 2-day...although I'm not even sure I could! I am privileged to have such awesome friends!

The further adventures of...

So let's have no more talk of breast cancer and all that depressive stuff. I am done with it. Cut it out...zapped it...and sent it back to the den of pestilence and despair from whence it came. Now I just have to get over this fatigue and let my skin, which is very sore, recover. Of course, everything is relative, but I believe that I got off lightly; I was fortunate that the cancer was caught early and for that I am extremely thankful.

Anyway, it is time to put all that behind us and to set off on some new adventures - we are now the proud owners of a VW van after all! (And if anyone is interested in buying a Subaru Forester, we have a very nice silver one for sale....very nice, well-maintained, relatively low mileage...anyone??). Because I am still experiencing some fatigue, I am having a slow start to my new exciting adventures. I thought I'd begin with some knitting, some reading (Anna Karenina...ought to cheer me up), playing some flute, and (to pick up the pace a bit) planting a few seeds...phew! Yes, I know...I am a thrill seeker who enjoys living on the edge. I'm sure that's become obvious by now. In fact, I might even get my sewing machine out....ooooh.

And I booked tickets to England for Bronwyn and I. We're only going for a week at the beginning of June, but one week is better than no week. I can eat lots of fish and chips in a week.

Just look at that beauty! The picture was taken (unfortunately, not by me) at Steels in Cleethorpes. The author, quite rightly, describes it as a "work of art". Just looking at it makes my mouth water. Beautiful. I hope the Pea Bung in Grimsby is still there. Grimsby and Cleethorpes have the best fish and chips in the world. No argument. I don't even have to go around the world to know that. I am really looking forward to our trip (although I wish Mark and River could come too). Unfortunately, there won't be time to visit everyone that I want to visit (we are planning a family trip for next year). The trouble with East Lincolnshire is that not many people want to go there. If they find themselves there it's usually because they got the wrong train or made a wrong turn....there's no really direct way to get there...and once you're there, it's not that easy to get anywhere else. I hope we get some good weather. Bronwyn is going to love Cleethorpes "beach". On a side note, let's hope the volcanic ash-cloud floating over the UK has blown away by then.

I split this into two separate posts...to avoid the really long post.

All done...

I had my last radiation session today! No more traipsing back and forth to BCCA. No more scheduling everything in our lives around that ever-changing, daily timeslot. It is also the end of my treatments for now. So no more waiting for results, waiting for surgery, recovering from surgery etc., etc. I am very happy that it is over. And although I am aware that I got off relatively lightly, it feels like it has been a long and difficult struggle. But now I can move forward with life. Well, having said that I am so tired that by 3pm I am basically a zombie. So first things first and I am looking forward to getting past this overwhelming sense of fatigue and regaining some much-needed energy; running around with the kids and having a laugh. But when people ask me if I'm going to celebrate...and what I will do, I reply that as a celebration I would like to go back to bed and spend a few days there (fat chance of that!). But that is how I feel. Right now, all I want to do is rest.

One week to go...

Four days to be exact. Then I will be finished with my radiation therapy. I am feeling quite tired. However, I don't know how much tiredness is because of radiation and how much is due to the juggling of daily life with daily trips to BC Cancer Agency. Perhaps I'll never know.

The weather is gorgeous and it promises to be a lovely weekend. I took River to his music therapy group this morning. He loves music and is just beginning music therapy with a group of other young children with autism. He seemed to enjoy it, although it was just the first session. He sat with me the whole time and participated in some of the songs. At least, within this group he doesn't seem "odd", like he does when he's with a group of typical children. The music therapist was very gentle with the kids and passed around some simple instruments for them to play along with; a shaker and a drum. River liked the drum quite a bit. It will be interesting to see how he gets on...he's already got rock star hair!

We plan to do some gardening this weekend. We have a big rooftop deck that we need to get ready for summer. Scrub the floor, plant loads of different flowers, and even a few veggies. Add some decorative touches. And it's beautiful outside, like I said. The problem is that I just want to curl up in bed, or sit on the couch and knit. Speaking of knitting, I think this blog needs more knitting. I intend to put up some projects that I am working on...it may even encourage me to actually finish something! Of course, everything is in slow-motion right now. I wish I had more energy, it's very frustrating.

Dislocation - a poem...and blah

Dislocation

It happens in an instant.
My grandma used to say
someone is walking on your grave.

It's that moment when your life
is suddenly strange to you
as someone else's coat

you have slipped on at a party
by accident, and it is far
too big or too tight for you.

Your life feels awkward, ill
fitting. You remember why you
came into this kitchen, but you

feel you don't belong here.
It scares you in a remote
numb way. You fear that you—

whatever you means, this mind,
this entity stuck into a name
like mercury dropped into water—

have lost the ability to enter your
self, a key that no longer works.
Perhaps you will be locked

out here forever peering in
at your body, if that self is really
what you are. If you are at all.

by Marge Piercy from The Crooked Inheritance.

I haven't posted for a few days. I have been really tired. Insomnia and radiation therapy do not exactly work in concert. Having said that I got a decent night's sleep the past two nights (thanks to the drugs!). Anyway, I have been tired (fatigued, as they call it) and generally feeling low and out-of-sorts. And I just couldn't be bothered to write anything. But we are getting on and I am looking forward to having some energy back one of these days.

I did remember my Thursday poem...and now me and Bronny are going to set off to the library (one of my favourite places to be - did I ever mention my love of libraries?)

7 down...13 to go...

Well, 7 treatments down and 13 to go. I do feel tired, but I don't think it is to do with the radiation therapy. I think it's a combination of everything that composes my crazy life, and not enough time to rest and re-energize. I'm actually a little worried about how I will feel when the fatigue from radiation does start to kick-in...or maybe it won't be too bad. I've kept up with running - even when I felt like I was literally dragging myself out the door. I want to keep up with it if I can. The only side-effect so far is that my boob looks like it's had it's own beach holiday - and forgot the sunscreen. Oh well. There are always good days and bad days, but generally, I am staying positive.

This is a drawing that Bronwyn made of her visit to my radiation therapy...

I have taken Bronwyn along with me to a few radiation sessions. She enjoys coming with me (riding in our new VW van) and is excited that she gets to push the buttons that move the bed up and down and side to side. The technicians/therapists are really friendly and take the time to interact with her and answer her questions. She doesn't appear to be intimidated by the huge radiation machine. And she gets stickers and a tattoo for all her hard work. The other day I was laying in the machine. In between my two 30 second zaps of radiation I heard a small voice come over the speaker (they wait outside while the radiation is administered). It was Bronwyn saying, "Hi mummy, you're doing a good job". Her voice sounded so adorable; high-pitched, small, and childish. Separate in so many ways from where I was. My grey and white surroundings; the large clinical room with its incumbent radiation machine and accompanying monitors. My quietly-suppressed anxiety. It was a beautiful reminder of what is most precious to me.

(Edit...actually, after my visit today I noticed that one wall is painted a burgundy-red and the other walls are a warmish beige. There is a wood (Ikea-looking) shelve unit attached to one wall. It is not all grey and white at all. But my eyes are always drawn to the radiation machine and the other equipment in the room (that is greyish). When I lay down on the bed I simply see the white ceiling and the lights, while everything else skirts around my peripheral vision. I suppose my perception of the room is narrowly defined and I remember it seeming more austere and unwelcoming than it actually is. I wonder how many times that happens at other times and in other places).

We constantly have to remind ourselves that she has a lot on her plate right now, and we have to cut her some slack in her behaviour. I suppose we need to be easier on ourselves too! The fact is that we need a break. I'm too exhausted by the evening to do anything much and I have been going to bed by 9:30pm. Good friends have offered to take the kids for a few hours at the weekend and during the week. It is time to take them up on their offers. We need the help. All in all, it makes a really big difference to us. It stops the kids getting so bored of us...ha ha.

One down...

I almost forgot it was St Patrick's day...but then again, I am not Irish...

I had my first dose of radiation today. It all went pretty smoothly. The only annoying thing was that on Monday I received a phone call with times for today, tomorrow,and Friday (all different). I changed River's schedule, arranged pick ups for Bronwyn, childcare etc. When I got there today I was handed a card with my appointment times on it - only to find they were different! Fortunately, it got sorted. I hope it's just teething problems. It's going to be beyond a headache if stuff like that keeps happening. Mark came with me. He followed me into the waiting area. A radiation therapist then got up to show me where I could get changed. Mark said, "Shall I just wait here?" She turned to him, then to me. I looked at her, shrugged, and said, "I don't even know who he is....pause...ha ha...just kidding, he's my husband!". Ahhhh, the look of shock on her face was priceless! Gotta get a laugh out of it somehow. So anyway, it was quick. The treatments themselves are only a about half a minute. They set you up with the machine, then they leave the room and close the 6-inch thick lead door. You lie there while the machine buzzes and gives you a shot of radiation (actually, more a like a pulse). Crazy stuff. The mind boggles at the technology. One down, Nineteen more to go...

Next stop radiation therapy...

Sigh....I suppose it's time for a breast cancer update. I have met with the oncologist twice now. He is very personable and is the first doctor who has taken the time to explain everything to me. He seems very young (don't the oncologists look young these days!). I had a CT scan last Tuesday and “markers” were put in place. These are very small, freckle-size, tattoos that help the radiologist pinpoint exactly where the radiation should be administered. My radiation therapy will be carried out at the BC Cancer Agency. It's a state of the art facility with everything under one roof. This cancer business still feels new to me and both my visits had a surreal aspect; an intimate attention to detail combined with the detached aura of a dream.I am scheduled to begin radiation therapy next week. I’m still not sure for how long; daily sessions for 4 weeks or perhaps longer. A strange little adventure that is going to be, I’m sure.

The building itself is like a complicated maze... I go to the main reception area and answer a couple of questions. I am told to go to the second floor, and a volunteer takes me up the elevator and to another reception area. This receptionist directs me to another waiting area; “Go down there, turn right, then left and it will be on your left”. I follow these directions and find myself in a hallway with yet another reception area. I can see several small waiting rooms leading off the hallway. A volunteer sitting at a desk at the crossroads asks me if I need help and, as she directs my attention to signs above our heads, she asks me what colour I am. The sign has a four identical symbols of a person in a chair, one red, one green, one blue, and one yellow, each with accompanying arrows. I explain that no-one has given me a colour. There is some confusion. Apparently, I should have been assigned a colour. The volunteer repeats that I am supposed to have a colour, that the building is a maze, I will need a colour. Oh no, is the system breaking down? Thankfully, a woman, (nurse?) comes by and puts some order to our mini-chaos. She takes the piece of paper I am clutching that has my “client number” on it (and is pink) and disappears down a hallway. I stand waiting and take the opportunity to look at the “History of BC Radiotherapy” poster and wonder about a couple of complicated steel hospital gurneys with no mattresses that stand, like museum exhibits, against the plain white walls. Soon the woman returns and shows me into a small waiting room. She tells me that I will most likely be “yellow”. And I have no idea what that means.

There are two women already in the waiting room. Neither one looks up nor attempts to make eye-contact. I sit down and listen. The building has a constant hum, like a non-stop fan. The constant drone puts a damper on every sound, but I make out a muffled cacophony of familiar noises; keys jangling, laughter, footsteps, telephones ringing, the clickety-clack of a dot matrix printing machine. A few minutes go by and a technician comes for me and takes me to the CT area. Before I have my scan I am shown to a small room inhabited by a "cosy" floral couch, a coffee table, and a TV/DVD. A couple of Monet prints hang on the wall. Prints that for me have become synonymous with hospital waiting rooms and boredom. I watch the DVD. It’s a sort of, “Mrs Jenkins goes for Radiation Therapy” public information film. The "actors" (namely radiation therapists etc.) play themselves; self-consciously reciting memorized scripts like a high-school drama class. They explain the breast radiation procedure at BCCA. Seems straight forward enough. Following this I am shown into the CT room. Everyone is smiling and friendly and putting me at my ease. There are four people in the room. I have never shown my breasts to so many different people than in the past months. Anyway, the scan was quick and painless. Nothing to worry about.

I was shown around the maze a little more. BCCA appears to run like a well-oiled machine. It is bustling and teeming with people who each have their own story; hundreds of variations on the theme of cancer. We calculate our journey through the maze, relying on friendly volunteers to direct us to small waiting rooms that attempt to be cheerful and calming, putting our faith in the skill of oncologists, physicists, and therapists. In fact, so many people go through the building and there are so many stories that in the face of it, mine seems commonplace and ordinary and not really about me. And despite accepting the truth about cancer; that it attacks randomly and without discrimination, I still found myself thinking, "But what the hell am I doing here?”

A visit with the oncologist and more Olympic skating!!

Wow! What a day it was yesterday! The day started with my first visit to BC Cancer Agency and my (extremely nice) oncologist. He gave me a lot of info about my upcoming radiation therapy, which will start in mid-March...but blah blah...no need to talk about that right now!

So I was home for a little while and then got a call from Mark to say I could have a last minute ticket to see gold-medal ice-dancing...if I wanted it?!?! (silly, silly question). So he came home early and off I went....and Canada won! It was amazing to actually be there. Thanks so much to my friends Paul and Suzanne!

During the national anthem...the crowd was singing at the tops of their voices!

What an experience. The stadium was a sea of red and white (and Canadians are not usually so given over to massive displays of patriotism). I feel so lucky. Unfortunately, my camera couldn't catch all the red...but trust me...it was there!

 And now I have just be given tickets (courtesy of one of Mark's bosses) to the Ladies short program tonight. Brilliant seats. I'm taking my sis. Mark's been coming home early so that I can take off to the Pacific Coliseum. These opportunities have been simply fantastic! And I am learning. Event number 3...do take a water bottle ($4 a bottle inside)...don't take bag (security headache)...do take camera...! I am very excited. The Olympics is an event like no other. I had no idea.

Shapeshifting...

We went to see the surgeon yesterday (I have learned to loathe that waiting room with it's poster of "diseases of the digestive system on the wall) and he gave us the welcome news that my lymph nodes were clear. He also said that they had a clear (albeit small) margin around the lumpectomy. He recommended going forward with the next step which is radiation. To say I am relieved to hear that my lymph nodes are clear is an understatement. I am also beyond thankful that I do not need to have chemotherapy. It is troubling that some invasive cancer was found and I cannot know absolutely if the surgeon got all of it, or how much of it there might be left. But I hope the radiation will zap whatever remains. Then I will keep a close check on things and try to get on with my life, as many, many women do. The option for a full mastectomy is there, but I have some time to see how I live with this. I feel a sense of guarded optimism. I am thankful, but at the same time aware that there is no way to know if it is all gone. I also feel a profound sense of compassion for the "other woman". The one who receives a different, far worse, diagnosis. The distance between myself and that "other woman" seems so slight. Why her? Why me? Why not me? It is all so terribly random.

I happened upon an interview with the writer, Carol Shields, who died in 2003 from complications of breast cancer. In this interview she describes, with incredible insight, the experience of living with cancer, how it changed her way of thinking, and the emotional journey that she experienced; the "terrible introspection" as she put it. It is worth a listen to.

I feel altered by what I have been through over these past months. I have "shape shifted" and am not the "old" me anymore. I look at things differently now. I think differently. My priorities have changed, and continue to change. I am a transformed, and hopefully better, version of myself.

Lumpectomy Part II...with added sentinel node biopsy

Here is a picture of the lovely card that my good friend made for me. She cut out inspirational, strong, and loving words from magazines and pasted them all together. It is a wonderful gesture that gives me strength every time I read it. I will treasure this card. Thank you!

I am out of surgery and resting. Mark, who is the most amazing support, is taking care of everything and I am being very spoiled. Everything seemed to go okay. I am a tad bruised and sore and, unexpectedly, peeing blue. As well, part of my breast is a bright blue, quite a vivid shade...a kind of "clorox" blue. This blue colour comes from the dye the surgeon injects in order to help find the sentinel lymph node. The thinking is that when breast cancer begins to become invasive it follows a pathway that begins with the sentinel lymph node. By carrying out the biopsy they can determine if the cancer has spread and, if so, work out a further treatment plan. This could save taking out the axillary nodes which is a bigger operation with more side-effects. I only just found all that out, of course.

So on Thursday I went to the nuclear medicine dept to be injected with a radioactive dye directly into my breast tissue...bearable but not pleasant. An hour later I was having pictures taken in the Gamma Camera, a CT machine. I did not realise that this would take so long. One "picture" took half an hour! Uncomfortable because I had to lay with my arms above my head, but not too bad. I noted that the camera was the "Hawkeye Infina"...made by GE...because you notice these things when you are laying in one for about an hour. It does a cool revolving thing too....all very sci-fi.

I had to be at the hospital for 6:30am yesterday (eek!). My poor sister had to drag herself out of bed and make it over to our house by 6:00am. That's what families are for :) Thanks Treen. Our house isn't that cold is it? You can always put a jumper on...eh eh. Anyway, the nurses got me prepped, but the surgeon was late and the OR staff were getting pissed off. I sensed some workplace conflict and didn't want to be having surgery in the middle of it. But what can you do? Anyway, as usual the nurses and doctors were great. I was home by about 11:30, which is the good thing about morning surgery. I then spent the rest of day laying down and trying not to throw up. The anaesthetic makes me very nauseous. Bronwyn was fascinated by the bucket next to the bed and I think she secretly wanted me to throw up so she could be grossed out...kids eh.

Later on, a friend brought around a veggie lasagna for us so we wouldn't have to cook. And a strawberry-rhubarb pie from Aphrodites Organic Pie Shop...which Vancouverites know are the best pies ever! Our friends have been wonderful and we feel very fortunate to have such fantastic, caring people in our life. Through all this Mark and I are learning to ask for help and to graciously receive the help that is offered.

Now it is Saturday. I read on this very blog...via a comment (thanks Michelle!) that Dressew has yet more yarn and special deals. I haven't been able to get down there. I'm going to see how I feel later on. Maybe Mark can drive me down there later...if not I'll have to wait until Monday. Although my left arm is aching, I think I can still knit.

Breast Cancer 101

Most women dread the thought of breast cancer, to put it mildly. The word in itself conjures up 100s of scary thoughts and images. Then there are those monthly self-examinations that we're not that good at doing (and may not be that useful anyway). Those annoying mammograms. I was just as ill-prepared to hear my diagnosis as every other woman. I'm almost 5 months into my journey and it's still going. It all started with a routine mammogram and then the dreaded call back. Something suspicious in my left breast. Nothing to worry about, lots of people get called back for a diagnostic mammogram. Then the waiting. I had to wait 6 weeks for my next mammogram, but I wasn't too worried. Then I got another call back. They found an area of "highly suspicious" micro-calcification over quite a wide area. Sometimes this can be sign of beginning cancer. I would need a core needle biopsy. I'd never heard of micro-calcification and had no idea what a core needle biopsy was. Off I went to Google. Not the best idea but I did glean some information. The surgeon wanted to take out the whole area so it meant surgery under general anaesthetic. More waiting and then the biopsy. Nothing to worry about. Lots of people have biopsies and get good results. More waiting. Then I got the pathology results of the biopsy. Ductal Carcinoma In Situ. I only heard of it through my google searches. Not the news I was hoping for. All I heard was "breast cancer" and it was shocking to hear. A myriad of scary thoughts and images flooded my mind. One of the hardest things was telling my family. But then I did some reading. It's sometimes called pre-cancer and it is very early stage cancer and has not spread anywhere. The prognosis is good. A Partial Mastectomy (or lumpectomy) followed by radiation therapy was recommended. That's okay. Lots of women have partial mastectomies. More waiting. More surgery to remove a large area of breast tissue. Recovery was okay. The weirdest thing was that the cavity initially fills with fluid and I could hear it sloshing about like a half filled jug. Every time I heard it I felt nauseous. Then more waiting. Hoping that will be the end of it.

The follow up visit was yesterday. Sorry, we didn't get it all, and it seems that it's no longer "in situ" but has begun to turn invasive. I felt sure I would need a mastectomy and was preparing for all that involved, but the surgeon recommended another lumpectomy and a sentinel node biopsy. Perhaps he can get the rest of it and I can conserve most of my breast. (I guess it's one of the "benefits" of having large breasts). More waiting. It's just not stopping. I am keenly aware that things could be worse and I am thankful this cancer has been caught early. I am being positive and hopeful, but I just want this over and done with so I can get on with life. I need energy to focus on River's autism interventions and all the other stuff that I have to do. I'm still over a week away from my second lumpectomy that will be followed by more waiting. It can be excruciating all this waiting and not knowing. I am being strong and positive and people are being very supportive, but the fears haunt me and keep me up at night. Fears that I can't even put words to because they are too awful. I feel like I am looking through a camera lens that is constantly shifting focus; one minute it is the small things that I try to focus on, but in the next minute I worry about the big picture and the "what ifs" and other important things blur. I am wise enough to know that it is useless to worry about "what ifs"...but I wish my brain would understand that at 3am in the morning when I lay awake trying to shut out my fears. All I can do is try to stay positive and strong, pray for guidance and lean on my friends and family, who give me more strength. This is my wake-up call. Take joy in the simple day to day things and in the love and happiness of my children. Don't take any of it for granted. Not even for a minute.

Looking forward to Christmas...

I find it difficult to make new, fresh, inventive titles to posts...sorry about that.

So here I am, back home and taking it "easy". Listening to kids driving Mark crazy. Things went as planned yesterday. Sis took the day off to take care of the kids (thanks!!). She seemed in once piece when I got home...they let her off easy! Having said that, I floated through the door in a narcotic bubble and wafted straight up to bed. Things went okay. Another trial and error session trying to get the IV in my vein. Apparently, I have delicate veins....dehydration is what I call it. Everything went smoothly. The surgery was a tad delayed and I didn't go in until around 3pm. I was supposed to go in at 1:45. The usual matter-of-fact wheel you in and out stuff. Afterwards I was MUCH groggier than last time. It seemed to take me ages to wake up. They gave me some strong pain medication and I have been pretty much in la-la land until this morning. As far as I can tell, my boob is mostly still there (that was a worry) and hasn't been too drastically altered. Time will tell, I suppose. The next step is to find out if I get to keep it! There is some stiffness and ache in my arm, but nothing that Tylenol can't take care of. I won't know the results until new year. Of course we hope that this is the end of it and we can move on with things. Close this chapter. In the meantime, I intend to de-stress (as far as possible), enjoy Christmas and take it easy. Mark is being a very good nurse, it has to be said. And people around us have been very supportive, kind and helpful. Thank you!

Christmas is coming....

Our tree is up...and it looks brilliant...a lot better than this picture. I can't figure out Photoshop. In fact I hate Photoshop...every tiny little pixel. So anyway...Christmas is coming fast and furious. Am I ready? Of course not!

My surgery is on Friday. I have been sick for over a week and I am worried that they won't do my surgery if I am sick. I can't seem to get better. But then again, I haven't had any rest either. No call-in-sick-and-stay-in-bed-to-rest for me. There was River's team meeting on Friday. Blood work and rushing around doing Christmas stuff on Saturday and Sunday. There is ferrying Bronwyn and River back and forth to kindergarten and preschool. The constant stream of people coming to our house. Yesterday there were appointments with River's Occupational Therapist and Infant Development Consultant, as well as 2 intervention sessions (4 people over to the house in one day), today he had a speech-language therapy assessment. Tomorrow we double up on intervention sessions and there is a teaching session with the intervention supervisor. Let's not forget laundry, cleaning, groceries, cooking dinner, the endless snacks, changing diapers, dealing with Bronwyn's tantrums, dealing with River's "fear of the poo", which entails a hysterical screaming fit every day. Making sure Ellee gets out and gets fed. Scheduling more sessions and appointments for River, getting together materials for his intervention sessions...trying to find time to make stuff with Bronwyn. Trying to find time to take library books back while fines are mounting up...Oh, yes...then there is Christmas. And let's not forget that niggling worry about breast cancer. No wonder I'm not getting better. Still, when all that is done I will get chance to put my feet up and rest...that will be on Friday while I am in surgery. In fact, part of me is looking forward to it because I will be able to rest...at least for the afternoon anyway. Phew...end of moan.

I have given up on sending Christmas cards this year....the traditional woman's role, for some reason. I have virtually given up on Christmas for this year. Of course I have to keep up the front for the kids. Maybe I'll regain my Christmas spirit once I stop feeling like my head is in a vice. I sound like a right "Bah...humbug".

Here is Bronwyn's cute tree that she decorated for their bedroom...

And the mini-snowman she made when we had a dusting of snow...look carefully...there are carrot eyes and nose!

Updates....DCIS etc

It's December 11th already! I haven't updated for a while. First things first...I met with the surgeon about my dcis. Apparently there were cancer cells in most of the tissue they took and in all the margins. He said that I should have a lumpectomy (or as they term it, a "partial mastectomy"). He said it's basically the same as I had before only they take out a lot more tissue. Errr...well it's not the same as I had before then is it, doctor???? I would have to follow that with radiation therapy. Then he mentioned that if they didn't get all the cancer cells with the lumpectomy then the next step is a mastectomy. Holy crap! I must admit I was shocked. None of this terminology was mentioned before. A mastectomy seems to drastic. I like my boobs and I'd like to keep them, thank you very much. It has been a stressful time, but what can we do but take one step at a time? In many women, dcis can sit there and never spread anywhere. In some women it does (about 13% so I read). They don't know why or when so there doesn't really seem to be many answers and there isn't that much time to think. I have surgery in about a week's time, just before Christmas...then there's that waiting thing again. Let's just hope they catch it all.

In other news I finished my course at SFU. I don't know how I got it done, but it is done. Out of the way. I didn't want to waste the work I'd already put in. I decided not to take any more courses for a while. I think I have to make time to enjoy life and not be so busy all the time. Do the things that I find fulfilling...write more, spend time with my friends and family, play with my kids etc. Actually, one thing that has come out of this is realizing what is important and what is trivial; trimming the fat, so to speak. My family is wonderful and I am also lucky to have a few really good friends.