How Many Teardrops

How many teardrops can one person shed?  [96Tears]  I thought I'd cried as many as one could possibly, but....

Watched a fun video today from The Breast Cancer Site Shake Your Booty for Breast Cancer Awareness and started sobbing.

 I cried for all the physical pain I've endured.  I cried for all the things that didn't go right.  I cried for the time lost. And I cried just because.

I also cried for everyone else who has gone through this and for those that will be going through this in the future.  And I cried for those that didn't complete the journey.

So how many teardrops can one person shed?  An infinite amount!
 

Who Am I?

Who am I?  Who is this person I've become?

This journey has been fraught with a multitude of twists and turns and ups and downs.  I've been forced to look deep within myself to find strength, patience, and grace.  In my darkness I realized that all of this comes from the Divine, and this relationship became stronger than ever. 

Situations arose that brought many negative and ugly aspects of  me to the surface [gosh I hope there aren't more!], and I've had to examine and deal with them.  And grow.  I'm learning to love myself in a way I never had before, even the less than perfect aspects of myself.  As a recovering perfectionist, I'm learning to embrace the imperfections -- the perfectly imperfect.  I'm learning to let go of the things [physical AND emotional] that are no longer needed.   I feel lighter, clearer and cleaner.

Relationships changed.  Some dear friends hurt me deeply.  People popped up in unexpected places and times to provide the support and guidance I needed.  Other relationships have deepened.  Those who are closest to me have watched this journey and provided so much support [you know who you are] -- you have no idea how thankful I am and how much I love you!

Who am I?  I'm a beautiful and cherished child of God in a constant state of becoming. 

Where am I going?  I'm not sure, but I know this is just the beginning of something special and wonderful!
 

The Story of the Incredible Breast

Once upon a time there was a breast, a right breast to be exact.  This particular breast was a very important, cherished part of a particular woman's body -- we'll call her Diane.  For years and years the breast was beautiful and healthy until.....

One day Diane discovered a lump in this breast.  After a multitude of tests and consultations, a bilateral mastectomy was performed.and tissue expanders were put in temporarily [to swap with implants at a later date]. 

A P.E.T. scan showed some cancer in the lymph nodes under the right arm even though 12 nodes had been removed during the surgery.   Rigorous treatment of chemotherapy and radiation therapy was performed.

And the right arm started growing.

Diane discovered an incredible lymphedema support group and started therapy with a lymphedema specialist.  And the right arm started to get back to normal.

Now, the right breast was growing, and it became very painful.  The skin around the original incision site was rough and almost black.  The bottom of the breast was extremely hot and painful to the touch.  Surgery was performed to remove lots and lots of fluid [1100 cc].

But, after the drain was removed 4 weeks later, the right breast started to grow again, and burst through the skin and started to squirt lymphatic fluid.

Another surgery was performed to remove the fluid; this time the expander was also removed.  The skin immediately started to look and feel better.

But, after the drain was removed 4 weeks later, the right breast started to grow again.

It's a seroma.  [Wikipedia has a nice explanation of a seroma [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seroma].]

This is where the story pauses, but it's far from over. The incredible right breast is doing its best.  And the incredible left breast, still with a tissue expander in it, is holding its own beautifully.

One Year Anniversary

One year ago today I had a bilateral [double] mastectomy.  It's been quite a year.

It's been a year of going to a gazillion medical professionals:  general surgeon, plastic surgeon, lymphedema specialist, medical oncologist, radiation oncologist, otolaryngologist [ear, nose & throat], psychologist and general practitioner.  It's been a year of procedures: MRI's, CT scans, mammography, ultrasounds, and blood draws, to name a few.  And then there have been the surgeries: bilateral mastectomy including insertion of tissue expanders [with a 2-day stay in the hospital], insertion of chemo port, removal of chemo port, and drainage of fluid build-up in the breast.  And let's not forget the chemotherapy and the radiation therapy.

It's been a year of physical pain, sometimes more than I could ever have imagined, in different manifestations.

It's been a year of emotional pain, frustration, anger, depression...

It's been a year of learning and growing.

It's been a year of finding out who my true friends really are, and letting go those who aren't.

It's been a year of joy, of being thankful for being alive, and for all the amazing people [and my cat] that have enriched my life and kept me going.

And lastly, but most importantly, it's been a year of coming closer to my God.

The Things They Don't Tell You

Right now I'm being treated for some type of bronchitis/laryngitis --- a side effect of the radiation.  I've been fighting this for almost 6 weeks now.  I've been on 2 antibiotics, a fungicide and may have to go on another.*

Gee, my oncologists are soooooo adamant that the drugs they're pushing [chemo and radiation] are so safe.  My radiation oncologist even showed me a picture showing where the radiation went and where the voice box is, and assured me there was no way radiation was getting to the voice box.  I asked my ENT [ear, nose & throat] doctor if my oncologist is aware of this and he gave me a big "oh yeh." 

A woman in my lymphedema support group got Bell's Palsy as a side effect of radiation therapy...

The upside is that I've been assured this will not last forever and that I will sing once again.


*I'm avoiding yeast infections by taking acidophilus.
 




 

Cancer Free

So I've been through a bilateral mastectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation therapy -- not to mention all the side effects from these.  I will be taking a drug for the next 5 years to keep my body from producing estrogen.  I'll be dealing with the side effects of lymphedema for the rest of my life. 

The other day I asked my doctor if I am cancer free (right now), and he said yes. 

Why am I not jumping up and down for joy?

Well, for one thing, I'm still having problems with my voice and am feeling, well, icky.  But I think the main thing is that I'm just tired.  Am I still haven't gotten the breast implants yet.....

But, I'm cancer free, and that's a marvelous thing. 

Thank you, God!

 

Silence is Golden?

Four days ago I lost my voice.  Well, almost -- I can whisper.  It's been really strange.

I miss being able to talk to Tigger [my cat], so I'm overcompensating with the petting and scratching.  I got frustrated when a favorite song [Sister Golden Hair] came on the radio and I couldn't sing along with it. 

Conversations are interesting.  I feel like I'm yelling when I'm trying to talk to people.  It makes it hard for me to get my 2-cents-worth in a conversation.  And it's terribly exhausting.

So, mostly I just sit back and observe and listen.  Is this the lesson?