Left hand/right hand?

When visiting multiple doctors, some days I wonder if the left hand has a clue what the right hand is doing...

The plastic surgeon gave the "go-ahead" to take out the implant or not take out the implant depending on what the radiation oncologist wants. I meet with her next Tuesday, so I have a list on what to ask. I really need to know because I don't know whether to buy a mastectomy swimsuit or not...and buying a swimsuit isn't easy in the first place. You can see where my priorities are.

Please keep my Uncle Ray in your prayers. He had a recurrence of leukemia after less than six months in remission and will have to go to Maryland for a bone marrow transplant. To have a bone marrow transplant is tough, because he will have to be in almost total isolation because the doctors will have to totally kill his immune system. This is for a guy who likes to be around people...a lot! The process of killing the immune system is not fun, either. I won't go into it, but you can look it up if you want to totally cringe.

Two appointments down, ??? to go...

I met with my surgeon yesterday and got the outline of my "battleplan." During the next week and a half, I will be scanned and tested for tests with no study guide (can I cry foul on that?). Today I got an MRI which is a very weird experience. Picture the MasterCard symbol or a two circle Venn diagram, and that is what is cut on the board I got to lay (lie?) on for about an hour . The "girls" each get their own circle, and my sternum fit on the middle part. As I was put face down, my head rested face down on a contraption similar to what you would use for a massage, but my eyes were also covered. My arms were placed on pillows above my head. Thank goodness I was given a valium before going in the tube because I REALLY don't like to sit still. I'm not clausterphobic, but I DON'T like being still. To add insult to injury, one of the nurses placed an IV into my vein so they could add contrast. Thanks to the valium, the whole thing was more uncomfortable for Chris who got to sit in the waiting room while over 500 pictures were taken of my chest. Hello, Playboy!

Tomorrow, I "get" to meet with my plastic surgeon. He's my least favorite of the doctors because when I mentioned I didn't like my reconstruction, he told me that it would look better if I didn't gain any weight. Humph! Let me cut off his hormone producers and put him in bed for a long time and see how HE comes out of the end of it!

Next Tuesday I meet with my radiation oncologist for her consult, and I believe I will have to meet my regular oncologist somewhere next week, too.

When I get back from Florida, there will be a rapid-fire volley toward "the beast." First I will have surgery where the plastic surgeon will remove the expander and the surgeon is going to scrape the skin from the underside to get every bit of tissue out of that breast. Later that week, I will go get the radiation set up and get tattoos and a prescription to a cream to hopefully keep my skin from burning to a crisp. I will also have to use a special deodorant because the metal in the d.o. will block the cancer killing rays. Where's Superman when I need him to give my radiation with his eyes. My oncologist will keep an eye on my tumor markers and keep "taking pictures" to determine if/when the treatment will change.

At the moment I still kind of feel like I'm in a dream and this isn't really happening to me... I wish it wasn't.

Lemonade

Today I got the official news: the cancer is back. I've been holding onto a hope that the lump was benign, but I didn't get that lucky. While waiting for a call from my surgeon this morning, I got a call from her nurse to schedule an appointment with my plastic surgeon for the consult to remove the implant. At the moment, I was still holding onto hope, so it was like a punch in the gut. I went to find Chris and had a very good cry, then told my family, co-workers, and friends. In a way, I feel like I'm letting a lot of people down. I know better than that...I just wanted to keep dancing with NED (No Evidence of Disease). Well, I'm starting to think of the lemonade...like the fact I've never really been happy with my reconstruction, it IS almost summer and I won't miss school, and God does have enough strength to help me go through this again as many times as I have to.

It is time to put my imaginary pink boxing gloves back on and fight again. I just home this time it is a knock-out punch.

And now for something completely different...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rGzZJp8QAA

The above link is for a YouTube video that was uploaded by students in my school Coach Winterrowd is a teacher I co-teach with one class period and I actually copied the idea for the assignment from another teacher. We watched Forrest Gump in class and the students were given the assignment to add something on to the movie. This really made me laugh. Just for your information, Coach W drinks LOTS of Diet Pepsi. You will understand once you watch the video.

Playing phone tag with the good doctor

Trying to be patient, I called my surgeon's office first thing Tuesday morning to see if there was any news. Her nurse patiently explained to me that Dr. C didn't give news over the phone and I would have to wait until Tuesday. Well, my awesome doctor called me tonight to give me the news...but I didn't know the phone was ringing. When I called back, the phone went to the answering service. Ugh. I will try to call the office tomorrow to see if they will read the results to me. Dr. C isn't in her office on Fridays, so I still may have to wait until Tuesday.

Should I start to worry yet?

My surgery was this morning and went well and it was uneventful except for boredom between the time I got the IV put in and the time I was wheeled into surgery. The surgeon spoke to Chris after she removed the mass, and its size doubled in the past week...she didn't like the visual look of the damn thing. I think I'll be fine to go to work tomorrow as long as I stay out of the halls during passing periods and away from the doors when lunch period begins...

I took the picture trying to entertain myself while waiting for surgery.

DON'T PANIC!!!!

Yes, that is a line from Douglas Adams, but that is what I keep repeating to myself during the last week. After my implant was inserted, I was given instructions to massage the implant to keep keloid scars from forming around the implant and creating a FrankenFoobie... I think I'm to do that about once a week, I remember at least once a month. I was doing the massage and felt a definate lump. I brought Chris over, and he felt it, too. Four letter words immediately started running through my mind, and after a very restless night sleep, I called my oncology nurse to "feel me up." That is how I put it...I've had more hands on my chest since my diagnosis than my whole life... Anyway, she didn't like it and sent me to my surgeon's office. My surgeon was out, but her nurse didn't like it either, and made an appointment to see Dr. C the following Tuesday. Dr. C's immediate reaction was "it's coming out!" So much for not panicing. Just in case, she sent me for a mammogram and ultra sound to make sure it wansn't a cyst. It wasn't...so now I'm preparing for surgery number six tomorrow morning. The only thing I'm really hating about this is that I have to miss school tomorrow. I'm not nervous about the surgery because my surgeon is a surgical rock star. I'm not too nervous about the results of the biopsy of the mass because there IS a chance it could be benign, and there is no reason to worry about something I don't know about yet.

Well, off to bed...I'm going to cheat and take a couple of Tylenol PM to get a good rest. The surgery isn't scheduled until 11AM, but I have to be there by 7:30 because Dr. C can "sometimes get ahead of herself."