Okay, I need to stop blogging today and actually get a job or something but I have to stand on my soap box and beat my sore chest! ... that health care bill IS changing things people...
So, I am being tested for my risk of recurrence of breast cancer which will determine also if I'm in for chemo or not... my insurance covers it but it would still cost me 1200 even after my deductible... NOW, after passing of that bill, the lab that runs this test will pay my total amount due because I am low/no income The agent told me herself this is a direct result of something in that health bill...Yayayay! MY BOOB IS VERY HAPPY and feeling strangely patriotic at that moment... which is odd for a boob.
Maybe I'll paint it red white and blue and send it to Obama... do you think he would understand? Or would I be put on some sort of "crazy breast cancer" list with the CIA? Oh wait, that was the dick head we had before... My Obama gets me!
Robyn does her favorite thing... babble.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
My report card so far: Stage Two Breast Cancer
So, the news is 95% good. Like I said before, good margins, clear lymph nodes, clear blood and found out Friday, clear liver. They are still concerned about the levels they got, so more blood work to do... but there is no evidence of cancer so that rocks!
The 5% is a little troubling right now... but, true to Dettman form, even my cancer cells are over achievers. ( I imagine them working 20 hours a day, taking on way too much, refusing help at any corner and then asking the surrounding breast tissue if they are performing well.)
Okay, here is the low down on my breast cancer: First, this is what stage two breast cancer is in my case: Malignant tumor in my milk duct The cancer had started to spread to the surrounding tissue, making it invasive and at a Stage Two.
so, the steps are: get the cancer out. And a portion of the healthy tissue surrounding... just in case. Next, check the rest of the body for cancer. I have no signs that it has metastasized anywhere else so far, except for those weird liver readings. So, did the CT scan on the abdomen. All clear there, so Yay!!! But won't get the all clear of cancer card til after treatment and then another PET test that scans me for rogue cancer I guess. Which is a way off.
Once they take out your cancer, they study it. I got back mostly good news. Hormone treatable, which means less of all the other scary stuff. Size was good, margins good ( I was wrong before. Margins are in regards to the healthy tissue they take out as well just in case there are any pre-cancerous things going on there.) The cancer type itself is not aggressive but...
So, what is that 5%? Apparently, the invasive cancer outside the tumor was multiplying very fast. they rate the division of cells concern at 15 - 20 %. Mine were 30. So basically, I went from being a low risk of reoccurring breast cancer to a possible high risk. DAMN!!!
But it's still not conclusive. More tests on the cancer itself which will target that specific "quality" of the cancer... and the return on that test determines whether or not I get the dreaded chemo-therapy. And more radiation.
I asked the nurse at the oncologist if she thinks peoples blood pressure goes up significantly when they come in to find results. She asked me why and I said because I'm totally cool until I walk through the door and start staring at that huge fish tank and begin to realize that in like 10 minutes I'm going to find out if my liver has a tumor in it.... I'm pretty sure my heart is beating just a bit faster than normal.
And so, the waiting continues... but I'm healing well and having my alternative medical treatments which are amazing... next blog I'll tell you about an amazing woman who is giving me free treatments that are helping my body repair itself, prepare for some major cell craziness (at the very least, radiation) and has helped me re-tune my nervous system... I'm going to make a video for her when I am able to help her change the world one spine at a time.
What I've learned that cancer hates: oxygen. Cancer hates people who do aerobic exercise. Vitamin D. Cancer no likey. It also doesn't like people with an alkaline ph balance in their bodies which means it also doesn't like wheat grass, sweet potatoes, people who eat a Mediterranean diet, avocados and a list of other things you can find in the ph charts online.
What does cancer like? stress. lots of stress since it puts your body in a very vulnerable place. it likes lots of sugar and any amount of fat. And it LOVES it when you over load your liver with alcohol, or high fat so that it can't do it's job and drain away the potentially dangerous elements in your system.
So what am I craving right now? Mojito. Steak. Video games (those are actually good for you in low doses... keep up your fighting skills) Ha. That's life. Today is the first day my breast hasn't hurt. I guess all the pain killer are gone now and my breast has gone through what I like to call the "what the hell happened here????" phase of pain. You know, the nerves are waking up from the vicodin induced coma... that shooting pain. And then it figures it out and goes to work healing it. My white blood cells are all up in that biz!
Next time: "I am breathing... aren't I?"
The 5% is a little troubling right now... but, true to Dettman form, even my cancer cells are over achievers. ( I imagine them working 20 hours a day, taking on way too much, refusing help at any corner and then asking the surrounding breast tissue if they are performing well.)
Okay, here is the low down on my breast cancer: First, this is what stage two breast cancer is in my case: Malignant tumor in my milk duct The cancer had started to spread to the surrounding tissue, making it invasive and at a Stage Two.
so, the steps are: get the cancer out. And a portion of the healthy tissue surrounding... just in case. Next, check the rest of the body for cancer. I have no signs that it has metastasized anywhere else so far, except for those weird liver readings. So, did the CT scan on the abdomen. All clear there, so Yay!!! But won't get the all clear of cancer card til after treatment and then another PET test that scans me for rogue cancer I guess. Which is a way off.
Once they take out your cancer, they study it. I got back mostly good news. Hormone treatable, which means less of all the other scary stuff. Size was good, margins good ( I was wrong before. Margins are in regards to the healthy tissue they take out as well just in case there are any pre-cancerous things going on there.) The cancer type itself is not aggressive but...
So, what is that 5%? Apparently, the invasive cancer outside the tumor was multiplying very fast. they rate the division of cells concern at 15 - 20 %. Mine were 30. So basically, I went from being a low risk of reoccurring breast cancer to a possible high risk. DAMN!!!
But it's still not conclusive. More tests on the cancer itself which will target that specific "quality" of the cancer... and the return on that test determines whether or not I get the dreaded chemo-therapy. And more radiation.
I asked the nurse at the oncologist if she thinks peoples blood pressure goes up significantly when they come in to find results. She asked me why and I said because I'm totally cool until I walk through the door and start staring at that huge fish tank and begin to realize that in like 10 minutes I'm going to find out if my liver has a tumor in it.... I'm pretty sure my heart is beating just a bit faster than normal.
And so, the waiting continues... but I'm healing well and having my alternative medical treatments which are amazing... next blog I'll tell you about an amazing woman who is giving me free treatments that are helping my body repair itself, prepare for some major cell craziness (at the very least, radiation) and has helped me re-tune my nervous system... I'm going to make a video for her when I am able to help her change the world one spine at a time.
What I've learned that cancer hates: oxygen. Cancer hates people who do aerobic exercise. Vitamin D. Cancer no likey. It also doesn't like people with an alkaline ph balance in their bodies which means it also doesn't like wheat grass, sweet potatoes, people who eat a Mediterranean diet, avocados and a list of other things you can find in the ph charts online.
What does cancer like? stress. lots of stress since it puts your body in a very vulnerable place. it likes lots of sugar and any amount of fat. And it LOVES it when you over load your liver with alcohol, or high fat so that it can't do it's job and drain away the potentially dangerous elements in your system.
So what am I craving right now? Mojito. Steak. Video games (those are actually good for you in low doses... keep up your fighting skills) Ha. That's life. Today is the first day my breast hasn't hurt. I guess all the pain killer are gone now and my breast has gone through what I like to call the "what the hell happened here????" phase of pain. You know, the nerves are waking up from the vicodin induced coma... that shooting pain. And then it figures it out and goes to work healing it. My white blood cells are all up in that biz!
Next time: "I am breathing... aren't I?"
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Dear medical team: I'm blessed to have you people but my breast hates you right now
INT. ELEVATOR - ALTA BATES SUMMIT HOSPITAL
The elevators open. Two FEMALE DOCTORS, mid thirties and on their 20th hour of a long shift, enter the already packed elevator. They both smile at another FEMALE DOCTOR #3.
FEMALE DOCTOR #1: We need to talk later about the fourth floor.
FEMALE DOCTOR #3: We will. Oh I'm sure we all will.
FEMALE DOCTOR #2: What happened?
FEMALE DOCTOR #3: It was devastating, just devastating.
FEMALE DOCTOR #1: That's what I heard. It's tragic.
Cut to me, on a gurney with small amounts of radiation rushing to my lymph nodes and a needle holder (yes, that's the medical term) for an IV sticking out of my hand.
In my mind I scream: Hello you ass-wipes! Can you not see the person who has obviously NOT had her surgery yet on the gurney in front of you? I just moved my feet so you can get on for chrissakes! I should kick you!!!
Instead, I ask the nurse from Nuclear Medicine who wheels me off the elevator:
"Please tell me we aren't going to the fourth floor???"
Was I scared after that? No, I was scared before that... What I have noticed about how I am dealing with cancer; there isn't my usual adept escape into my imagination because, well, what the hell would that do? No denial. I have this sort of " I am a warrior" approach to these treatments so far. Probably not as noble as a warrior, more like the way Harry Potter would approach it, that kind of thing. So, in the week leading up to the surgery, I was studying my nutritional stuff and emotional healing meditations/therapy, going to the gym to be strong like Bull...
That was fine until I was lying on hospital bed, having an IV needle stuck in my arm in my little open in the back gown and my strange little hot blanket machine pumping warm air unto my now very cold limbs. The warrior thoughts were replaced by "holy shit. Okay, now I'm a little freaked out." Harry Potter never had breast surgery. It was all a little too real.
Now let me tell you something about my health care people. I am so amazed and blessed to have such great people working with me on this fight of mine. From the Carol Ann Reed peeps (mammogram to biopsy) who are so gentle and sweet... my Jewish oncologist (it made me feel safe that she was Jewish... she said some day I can have all the Brisket I want... she gets me) and Bruce the boob surgeon who is funny and straight forward and has a huge ego about his boob work (which he should, he did a good job and I told him so.)
Again, I jump ahead but really, they have made the journey so far so much bearable than I could have imagined. They laugh at my jokes, answer the most obscure questions I ask about just about everything and are some of my best cheerleaders so far. Not what you think of when you hear about the big, bad western medicine world. I even got the anesthesiologist to smile when he asked me if I wanted something to calm me before the real drugs begin for surgery. I paused and he said "that's a yes." Then I asked him if it was okay, and he smiled.
So, as they wheeled me out of the room to go to the operating after the "cocktail" I was fine again. Yes, it was that kind of druggy fine that you know is not real, but let's face it, I was not strong as bull at the moment, so why pretend? The new me: yes, I want calm. Wish granted!
I land in the operating room and I'm chatting away and also strangely excited to watch them hook up all the little electrode stuff to me and the heart monitor. I get to be inside the movie this time but no... all I get to see are those big blue operating lights before they are even turned on and I hear "okay, sweet dreams" and....
Next thing I know, my head is sort of bobbing around and I'm trying to keep my eyes open. There is a nurse sitting next to me taking my pulse. I don't even hear the damn heart bleep thing! No fair! I paid good money for this people... but truthfully, the only thing on my mind is my breast. I keep trying to look at it because I don't know how much will be there exactly. But I do know, through all the pain meds that my breast is one angry customer. Even before the operation, it was not happy. And I'll explain.
How they determine cancer levels in lymph nodes: before they operate, they shoot a solution into your breast...about eight shots worth that you pretty much feel all of because they are dangerously close to the nipple (okay, not dangerously close, but it's my nipple!)... anyway, the solution has radioactive bits in it that travel the path that the cancer would if it was sneaking out to other parts of the body.
Then, whilst you are out cold and before the main surgery they find the first two nodes the little particles hit... take them out and whisk them to a waiting pathologist who tests them. If they find tumors or evidence of cancer there, goodbye lymph nodes.
Back in the recovery room: I don't get told anything, Meg has gotten all the news from Bruce and is waiting outside in my Subaru. What I get is a prescription for Vicodin and little booties to take home with non-skid bottoms for when I'm zonked out and walking funny.
They wheel me to the curb (literally) and I see the very tired and sweet face of my wife trying to hold it together when she sees me (projecting? could have been me, i am the Italian cryer in the family) my first question is...
So here is what I know today, almost two weeks after the surgery. The nodes were clear (Yay!) so no cancer that they can detect has taken the nodes lane to the rest of my body. My margins are good! (Margins: roughly translates the cancer to healthy tissue ratio of what they removed and what remains.) Yay again. The tumor has a very high incidence of hormone receptors, which means I can get hormone treatment which might reduce the amount of other kinds of treatment: radiation, chemo
What I don't know: there were elevated levels of something in my liver... which could have been an extra glass of wine (or maybe a year or two of wine stress relief?) so we just did a CT scan to see what up... find out on friday about that when I see my oncologist Dr. Wexler and she tells me her recommendation for treatment.
Oh, a few more things I know: My wife is brave and strong gal... it sucks to be the one in the waiting room who gets the news first. And they don't give her any calming "cocktails" before hand. She is taking amazing care of me and is totally in love with our kittens...hhehehhhe. I knew it was only a matter of time :) for the kittens, she is a dork cuz she has loved me for nigh 10 years now... Yes, I said nigh.
Oh and one more thing: staples look very odd in a breast. Okay, not in exactly... to the side actually, but come on! who invented those? what kind of staple gun is that? and does it make the same noise? whoever invented that must have invented the tube down your throat to keep you asleep as well... probably someone at www.hospitalkink.com
Next time: Robyn learns about protons and photons and systematic warfare.
The elevators open. Two FEMALE DOCTORS, mid thirties and on their 20th hour of a long shift, enter the already packed elevator. They both smile at another FEMALE DOCTOR #3.
FEMALE DOCTOR #1: We need to talk later about the fourth floor.
FEMALE DOCTOR #3: We will. Oh I'm sure we all will.
FEMALE DOCTOR #2: What happened?
FEMALE DOCTOR #3: It was devastating, just devastating.
FEMALE DOCTOR #1: That's what I heard. It's tragic.
Cut to me, on a gurney with small amounts of radiation rushing to my lymph nodes and a needle holder (yes, that's the medical term) for an IV sticking out of my hand.
In my mind I scream: Hello you ass-wipes! Can you not see the person who has obviously NOT had her surgery yet on the gurney in front of you? I just moved my feet so you can get on for chrissakes! I should kick you!!!
Instead, I ask the nurse from Nuclear Medicine who wheels me off the elevator:
"Please tell me we aren't going to the fourth floor???"
Was I scared after that? No, I was scared before that... What I have noticed about how I am dealing with cancer; there isn't my usual adept escape into my imagination because, well, what the hell would that do? No denial. I have this sort of " I am a warrior" approach to these treatments so far. Probably not as noble as a warrior, more like the way Harry Potter would approach it, that kind of thing. So, in the week leading up to the surgery, I was studying my nutritional stuff and emotional healing meditations/therapy, going to the gym to be strong like Bull...
That was fine until I was lying on hospital bed, having an IV needle stuck in my arm in my little open in the back gown and my strange little hot blanket machine pumping warm air unto my now very cold limbs. The warrior thoughts were replaced by "holy shit. Okay, now I'm a little freaked out." Harry Potter never had breast surgery. It was all a little too real.
Now let me tell you something about my health care people. I am so amazed and blessed to have such great people working with me on this fight of mine. From the Carol Ann Reed peeps (mammogram to biopsy) who are so gentle and sweet... my Jewish oncologist (it made me feel safe that she was Jewish... she said some day I can have all the Brisket I want... she gets me) and Bruce the boob surgeon who is funny and straight forward and has a huge ego about his boob work (which he should, he did a good job and I told him so.)
Again, I jump ahead but really, they have made the journey so far so much bearable than I could have imagined. They laugh at my jokes, answer the most obscure questions I ask about just about everything and are some of my best cheerleaders so far. Not what you think of when you hear about the big, bad western medicine world. I even got the anesthesiologist to smile when he asked me if I wanted something to calm me before the real drugs begin for surgery. I paused and he said "that's a yes." Then I asked him if it was okay, and he smiled.
So, as they wheeled me out of the room to go to the operating after the "cocktail" I was fine again. Yes, it was that kind of druggy fine that you know is not real, but let's face it, I was not strong as bull at the moment, so why pretend? The new me: yes, I want calm. Wish granted!
I land in the operating room and I'm chatting away and also strangely excited to watch them hook up all the little electrode stuff to me and the heart monitor. I get to be inside the movie this time but no... all I get to see are those big blue operating lights before they are even turned on and I hear "okay, sweet dreams" and....
Next thing I know, my head is sort of bobbing around and I'm trying to keep my eyes open. There is a nurse sitting next to me taking my pulse. I don't even hear the damn heart bleep thing! No fair! I paid good money for this people... but truthfully, the only thing on my mind is my breast. I keep trying to look at it because I don't know how much will be there exactly. But I do know, through all the pain meds that my breast is one angry customer. Even before the operation, it was not happy. And I'll explain.
How they determine cancer levels in lymph nodes: before they operate, they shoot a solution into your breast...about eight shots worth that you pretty much feel all of because they are dangerously close to the nipple (okay, not dangerously close, but it's my nipple!)... anyway, the solution has radioactive bits in it that travel the path that the cancer would if it was sneaking out to other parts of the body.
Then, whilst you are out cold and before the main surgery they find the first two nodes the little particles hit... take them out and whisk them to a waiting pathologist who tests them. If they find tumors or evidence of cancer there, goodbye lymph nodes.
Back in the recovery room: I don't get told anything, Meg has gotten all the news from Bruce and is waiting outside in my Subaru. What I get is a prescription for Vicodin and little booties to take home with non-skid bottoms for when I'm zonked out and walking funny.
They wheel me to the curb (literally) and I see the very tired and sweet face of my wife trying to hold it together when she sees me (projecting? could have been me, i am the Italian cryer in the family) my first question is...
So here is what I know today, almost two weeks after the surgery. The nodes were clear (Yay!) so no cancer that they can detect has taken the nodes lane to the rest of my body. My margins are good! (Margins: roughly translates the cancer to healthy tissue ratio of what they removed and what remains.) Yay again. The tumor has a very high incidence of hormone receptors, which means I can get hormone treatment which might reduce the amount of other kinds of treatment: radiation, chemo
What I don't know: there were elevated levels of something in my liver... which could have been an extra glass of wine (or maybe a year or two of wine stress relief?) so we just did a CT scan to see what up... find out on friday about that when I see my oncologist Dr. Wexler and she tells me her recommendation for treatment.
Oh, a few more things I know: My wife is brave and strong gal... it sucks to be the one in the waiting room who gets the news first. And they don't give her any calming "cocktails" before hand. She is taking amazing care of me and is totally in love with our kittens...hhehehhhe. I knew it was only a matter of time :) for the kittens, she is a dork cuz she has loved me for nigh 10 years now... Yes, I said nigh.
Oh and one more thing: staples look very odd in a breast. Okay, not in exactly... to the side actually, but come on! who invented those? what kind of staple gun is that? and does it make the same noise? whoever invented that must have invented the tube down your throat to keep you asleep as well... probably someone at www.hospitalkink.com
Next time: Robyn learns about protons and photons and systematic warfare.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
It's my birthday, get the staple remover!
Today is my birthday… Yay! I had a blog ready about my experience in the hospital but it needs to wait because I have an overwhelming urge to be thankful.
First, I am thankful for my friends and family who have showered me with love from all around the world. Seriously, it’s the best medicine… I asked Bruce the boob doctor and he agreed. Okay, I didn’t, but it’s something I’m sure he would. Just like he would approve of his name which I would have told him had I not been in “oh shit, I’m having surgery on my boob in half an hour” mode.
Here is what I’m really grateful for: hoping this is a very expensive and scary wakeup call to action for me or what I like to call “okay universe, I get it!”
What cancer has given me: total and complete paradigm shift. All those things I’ve been thinking of changing (which I’m sure helped make me a cancer greenhouse to begin with)… I have no more excuses. In fact, if I had to sum it up, that would be it. I can no longer use excuses… FOR ANYTHING.
Rationalizations: forget it. Can’t rationalize cancer. You can figure out how to fight it, how to make your body a anti-cancer zone and how your mental and emotional states can contribute to your all around health and balance… but rationalizations, forget it. And so, I find I can’t rationalize anything.
One thing that happened to me after the shock wore off of having cancer was evaluating my life. A natural stage is to be “Blah blah blah ( a lot of statements basically saying poor me)……….. and, now I have cancer!” You can whine all you want and feel sorry for yourself, but it doesn’t change the fact you have cancer. You can’t be a victim and fight cancer.
So I had to make a choice and because this is a huge thing, it had to be made. Either I fight like hell or try to rely on coping devices that no matter how natural they are for us are lame and make us a passive character in our own story. And that’s what I’m doing. I’m figuring out what I want my story to be. So all my mistakes, they are mine. It doesn’t matter who said what or did what or didn’t do… I own it.
Same with blame. Cancer doesn’t care who you are, I have found in my research. Yes, if you have a history, you are more susceptible but I barely had any. No breast cancer at all. No place to hang the blame card.
What I can do is look at the last few years and realize that it’s not a coincidence that I have developed cancer now. Here’s the ingredients I think led me to become this greenhouse of ill; no sleep, massive amounts of stress (99% created by myself with a superwoman complex of not asking for help and thinking I need to carry things all by myself), trying to please everyone and ending up not pleasing anyone, especially myself. Most of all, not being true to myself or following my instincts. Oh yeah, and I also ate tons of red meat, drank like a 17 year old gay sailor (don’t know what that means exactly but it makes sense to me) drank massive amounts of coffee and if you looked at my overall diet, it would be in a pro-cancer diet book (very acidic: more on that later)
The biggest gift I have is the present moment. When I was going being prepped for the surgery, I looked at my adm sheet and it said “wide incision.” I asked what that was and the nurse said “they keep going until they don’t find anymore cancer.” Well, that’s what this whole journey is. It’s test after test after surgery after test… and you just keep going until you run out of cancer.
So, it’s impossible to live in the future and ridiculous to live in the past. Because you just don’t know. For instance, I still have my lymph nodes… for now. Two were taken out during surgery and now are being tested. I'm going in today to find out about the more intense tests of where other cancer might be... everytime I walk into a doctor's office it's an answer to something with leads to another test. So I have a choice: go insane or just go with the flow. I choose flow as insanity hasn't worked well for me in the past.
So my friends, I ask you to do this: think of 5 reasons why you love yourself (yes, it’s self-helpy but indulge me, I have cancer… or might still have cancer… or could be cancer free at this moment), forgive someone who has done you wrong (don't reach out if it's not the right thing, but in your heart) because everyone is doing the best they can and having that anger and resentment floating around inside hardens your heart, I'm convinced of it. And then drink some stars for me.
They are testing my liver, so I am detoxing and can’t enjoy any champagne right now. But here’s something I learned zonked out on Vicodin and watching travel shows with the kittens. Champagne was invented by a monk named Dom Perignon (yes, seriously, or so says Rick Steves) and when he made his discovery, he ran down the monastery stairs and said “Brother’s, you must join me. I am drinking stars.”
So, please drink some stars for me. And, I’m glad you were all born too!
xoR
Next time: who let the staple gun into the OR or What the hell happened on the fourth floor?
First, I am thankful for my friends and family who have showered me with love from all around the world. Seriously, it’s the best medicine… I asked Bruce the boob doctor and he agreed. Okay, I didn’t, but it’s something I’m sure he would. Just like he would approve of his name which I would have told him had I not been in “oh shit, I’m having surgery on my boob in half an hour” mode.
Here is what I’m really grateful for: hoping this is a very expensive and scary wakeup call to action for me or what I like to call “okay universe, I get it!”
What cancer has given me: total and complete paradigm shift. All those things I’ve been thinking of changing (which I’m sure helped make me a cancer greenhouse to begin with)… I have no more excuses. In fact, if I had to sum it up, that would be it. I can no longer use excuses… FOR ANYTHING.
Rationalizations: forget it. Can’t rationalize cancer. You can figure out how to fight it, how to make your body a anti-cancer zone and how your mental and emotional states can contribute to your all around health and balance… but rationalizations, forget it. And so, I find I can’t rationalize anything.
One thing that happened to me after the shock wore off of having cancer was evaluating my life. A natural stage is to be “Blah blah blah ( a lot of statements basically saying poor me)……….. and, now I have cancer!” You can whine all you want and feel sorry for yourself, but it doesn’t change the fact you have cancer. You can’t be a victim and fight cancer.
So I had to make a choice and because this is a huge thing, it had to be made. Either I fight like hell or try to rely on coping devices that no matter how natural they are for us are lame and make us a passive character in our own story. And that’s what I’m doing. I’m figuring out what I want my story to be. So all my mistakes, they are mine. It doesn’t matter who said what or did what or didn’t do… I own it.
Same with blame. Cancer doesn’t care who you are, I have found in my research. Yes, if you have a history, you are more susceptible but I barely had any. No breast cancer at all. No place to hang the blame card.
What I can do is look at the last few years and realize that it’s not a coincidence that I have developed cancer now. Here’s the ingredients I think led me to become this greenhouse of ill; no sleep, massive amounts of stress (99% created by myself with a superwoman complex of not asking for help and thinking I need to carry things all by myself), trying to please everyone and ending up not pleasing anyone, especially myself. Most of all, not being true to myself or following my instincts. Oh yeah, and I also ate tons of red meat, drank like a 17 year old gay sailor (don’t know what that means exactly but it makes sense to me) drank massive amounts of coffee and if you looked at my overall diet, it would be in a pro-cancer diet book (very acidic: more on that later)
The biggest gift I have is the present moment. When I was going being prepped for the surgery, I looked at my adm sheet and it said “wide incision.” I asked what that was and the nurse said “they keep going until they don’t find anymore cancer.” Well, that’s what this whole journey is. It’s test after test after surgery after test… and you just keep going until you run out of cancer.
So, it’s impossible to live in the future and ridiculous to live in the past. Because you just don’t know. For instance, I still have my lymph nodes… for now. Two were taken out during surgery and now are being tested. I'm going in today to find out about the more intense tests of where other cancer might be... everytime I walk into a doctor's office it's an answer to something with leads to another test. So I have a choice: go insane or just go with the flow. I choose flow as insanity hasn't worked well for me in the past.
So my friends, I ask you to do this: think of 5 reasons why you love yourself (yes, it’s self-helpy but indulge me, I have cancer… or might still have cancer… or could be cancer free at this moment), forgive someone who has done you wrong (don't reach out if it's not the right thing, but in your heart) because everyone is doing the best they can and having that anger and resentment floating around inside hardens your heart, I'm convinced of it. And then drink some stars for me.
They are testing my liver, so I am detoxing and can’t enjoy any champagne right now. But here’s something I learned zonked out on Vicodin and watching travel shows with the kittens. Champagne was invented by a monk named Dom Perignon (yes, seriously, or so says Rick Steves) and when he made his discovery, he ran down the monastery stairs and said “Brother’s, you must join me. I am drinking stars.”
So, please drink some stars for me. And, I’m glad you were all born too!
xoR
Next time: who let the staple gun into the OR or What the hell happened on the fourth floor?
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Twas the night before surgery and all through the house...
Kittens!!!!! Okay, I officially think that when you are diagnosed with breast cancer, they should hand you kittens. Because, even though I am not cancer free at the moment... I believe they are part of the cure.
More of them later... lots more since I will be nursing a sore boob and may or may not have lymph nodes when I wake up. Which brings me to this...
Just like they say, it's the not knowing that is scarier than shit. Cuz here's the thing. Before I knew, it worse waiting and not knowing. By the way, I snuck a look at the the ultra-sound and even though everyone was being wonderfully positive I knew the minute I saw it that it was not going to be good. That kind of thing does not look like it belongs in a body...
So, when my very young doctor teared up to tell me that I had breast cancer ( I honestly think I was like the third person she had to tell. She asked me if she could hug me) I had bucked up for anything. No matter what, can't be victim when it comes to anything dealing with cancer.
Once you know, You start to fight. You prep, if you are from production :) So now, the scary thing is not knowing how far it is in my body. My amazing docs seem hopeful it's stage one, but there is no way to tell until they go in there and take a lymph node out and test it.
So, will I wake up with lymph nodes or not? I'm betting yes, they will be clear and I will have all but one intact... You can all place bets with the boob bookie I'm sure.
What I learned today: balance. As much as I wanted to know everything about everything about fighting this, you need a day off from it. You need some normal. And you most definitely need kittens.
Besides, my fears have some fierce enemies. I have amazing friends who are health professionals that are giving me free massages, free chiropractic care, free acupunture. It's a whole new world to be in tune with my body again. It naturally hooks you up with yourself... mind, body and soul.
Kind of makes up for the lack of alcohol, red meat, coffee sugar (all bad for my ph...and cancer LOVES those thing. not saying I'm swearing off forever, especially since some of the food I eat now is like falling face down in the grass with your mouth open)...but for right now, the cancer needs to get the hell out of my body. Then we'll see about a Filet Mignon, wine and white chocolate dessert.
Starting tomorrow. With Bruce the boob surgeon. Oh, one more weird thing: I keep looking at my boob. It's weird how it's become almost this innocent part of myself that's been invaded and I feel like I need to protect it somehow. Tomorrow, it's in for a long day. I will be out cold, not dreaming... wait, do you dream when you are under? don't remember... if I do, I'm sure they will be crazy dreams.
Oh and tomorrow, if you know Meg, please send her a text of love since she has to sit there and wait ALL DAY...
And thank you all for the love and support. I send it back to you in abundance... but do me a favor, if you are next to someone turn to them, tell you love them and hug them. For me. Also, make out with them if that's appropriate. And then, because it's me talking, do a shot.
Okay, next time I'll give more tips on how not to be a cancer greenhouse. Or, maybe I'll just tell you about the KITTENS!!!
xoRobyn
More of them later... lots more since I will be nursing a sore boob and may or may not have lymph nodes when I wake up. Which brings me to this...
Just like they say, it's the not knowing that is scarier than shit. Cuz here's the thing. Before I knew, it worse waiting and not knowing. By the way, I snuck a look at the the ultra-sound and even though everyone was being wonderfully positive I knew the minute I saw it that it was not going to be good. That kind of thing does not look like it belongs in a body...
So, when my very young doctor teared up to tell me that I had breast cancer ( I honestly think I was like the third person she had to tell. She asked me if she could hug me) I had bucked up for anything. No matter what, can't be victim when it comes to anything dealing with cancer.
Once you know, You start to fight. You prep, if you are from production :) So now, the scary thing is not knowing how far it is in my body. My amazing docs seem hopeful it's stage one, but there is no way to tell until they go in there and take a lymph node out and test it.
So, will I wake up with lymph nodes or not? I'm betting yes, they will be clear and I will have all but one intact... You can all place bets with the boob bookie I'm sure.
What I learned today: balance. As much as I wanted to know everything about everything about fighting this, you need a day off from it. You need some normal. And you most definitely need kittens.
Besides, my fears have some fierce enemies. I have amazing friends who are health professionals that are giving me free massages, free chiropractic care, free acupunture. It's a whole new world to be in tune with my body again. It naturally hooks you up with yourself... mind, body and soul.
Kind of makes up for the lack of alcohol, red meat, coffee sugar (all bad for my ph...and cancer LOVES those thing. not saying I'm swearing off forever, especially since some of the food I eat now is like falling face down in the grass with your mouth open)...but for right now, the cancer needs to get the hell out of my body. Then we'll see about a Filet Mignon, wine and white chocolate dessert.
Starting tomorrow. With Bruce the boob surgeon. Oh, one more weird thing: I keep looking at my boob. It's weird how it's become almost this innocent part of myself that's been invaded and I feel like I need to protect it somehow. Tomorrow, it's in for a long day. I will be out cold, not dreaming... wait, do you dream when you are under? don't remember... if I do, I'm sure they will be crazy dreams.
Oh and tomorrow, if you know Meg, please send her a text of love since she has to sit there and wait ALL DAY...
And thank you all for the love and support. I send it back to you in abundance... but do me a favor, if you are next to someone turn to them, tell you love them and hug them. For me. Also, make out with them if that's appropriate. And then, because it's me talking, do a shot.
Okay, next time I'll give more tips on how not to be a cancer greenhouse. Or, maybe I'll just tell you about the KITTENS!!!
xoRobyn
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