Health Update

I’ve had a lot of people ask about my current health status considering I am almost halfway through my treatments.  Since cancer seems to be more of an emotional battle than a physical battle at times, I sometimes forget to provide these updates but I do know people care and want to know how I’m doing.

On March 10^th (a week and a half ago) I went in for my fourth and final AC treatment.  My mom and Aunt Vicky were there to support me.  This is somewhat of a crowning moment (if there is such a thing) during one’s breast cancer fight.  Having your last AC treatment means the worst is about to be over.  But first, you have to get through the next 2-3 weeks of the worst and that brings me to today.  My doctor explains it like this….”Say I give you 10 pounds for your first treatment.  At the end you give me 5 pounds back.  Then for your second I give you another 10 but you still have 5 left over.  At the end of your second you give me 5 pounds back but you have 10 left over….and so on”.   So I’m going into this last AC treatment with 15 pounds of cumulative garbage. 

I remember when I first started my treatment.  My blood counts looked great.  I was a healthy 32 year old despite the fact that I had a big tumor hanging out in my left breast.  Now I look at my counts and I have low and high markers riddled over the page.  For example, the reason my muscles ache immediately when I try to exercise is that my hemoglobin is low and that’s what carries the oxygen to them.   Chemo attacks my bad cells that are trying to overtake my body but it also kills off my good fast-growing cells.  That of course is why I lose my hair and as of recent, my eyelashes and eyebrows (something that I find even harder to deal with than the hair…my eyelashes used to be one of my favorite attributes).  

The lining of your stomach and intestines is also made up of fast reproducing cells and therefore, they are no fight for chemo…you lose a lot of the protective lining in your gut as well.  This is why patients have problems with constipation and nausea.  I’ve been lucky to not feel these effects but in the past 5 weeks my resulting symptom came on as a numbing ulcer.  This being the worst of my treatment, I’ve also had terrible heartburn which makes my ulcer flare up even worse.   The pain is constant, always nagging me on my upper left side.  Last week they wanted to rule out any other more severe causes of the pain before they provided a diagnosis.  They ran a D-dimer blood test to see if the culprit was a possible blood clot moving to my lung.  The test came back elevated and I ended up hanging out at the doctor’s office all day going through ultrasounds to ensure there were no clots in my legs.  Lucky me, it turned out to be a false positive and by process of elimination they ruled my pain as an ulcer.  In the past week this nagging pain has moved on to an excruciating, piercing pain moments after I eat.   Historically, days 7-14 of my treatment cycle have been the worst; I hold on to the fact that I am at day 10…this is almost over!

I’m still experiencing terrible dry mouth.  This may sound like nothing but it is actually quite annoying because when I try to sleep my mouth literally dries shut and my nose becomes very congested, making it hard to breath.  This results in a terrible sleeping pattern of constantly getting up to drink water and then waking up 30 minutes later to go to the bathroom.  I pray that God blesses me with a baby that sleeps well.  I think it would be quite a deserving consolation prize!

Understand now why my blog isn’t a focus of my health updates?  It would be rather depressing.  The good news is that I have yet to get “sick”.  Everyone I know, including my dog even, has had a cold this winter.  I, on the other hand, have managed to stay clear of the winter cold this year despite my compromised immune system.  Could this be a product of all your prayers? Also, I'm happy to report that my tumor has shrunk substantially.  It's about the size of a pencil eraser!

We’ve all heard of the mid-life crisis but could there be such a thing as the “mid-treatment crisis”?  If so, I think I had it this weekend.  Last Sunday I had a meltdown after I experienced a wig malfunction.  Of course, it was the wig that triggered what I believe was just a need to let all the bottled emotion out.  While trying to remain strong through all of this I have continually pushed the bad stuff deep down inside me.  That now 25 pound garbage bag finally became too heavy to carry and I lost it.  In the end, the wig problem worked itself out (they are replacing my defective one) and that moment of crisis played well into another chapter of my love story with my husband.  He was there to comfort me and worked on helping me untangle my wig for over an hour.  Where would I be without him through this?

While typing this post I’m reminded of a life lesson.  I sit here telling my stories of minor problems that I face today and in the background I listen to the news of a girl who was kidnapped, molested, and murdered and a women whose husband is missing because he was on Flight 370 and a lady with no face who was mauled by her pet chimpanzee.   Little girl:  I’m sure there will be a moment in your life when you feel the world is coming to an end.  Maybe your boyfriend has cheated on you with another more popular girl or one of your friends was talking behind your back or your team lost an important game…Life is filled with sad, difficult, and even tragic moments but remember somewhere out there, there is someone who is experiencing something even worse than you.  I believe God uses difficult moments in our lives to teach us, make us stronger, and draw us closer to Him.  Most importantly we need these moments to appreciate the beauty in life.  We say in Minnesota that we appreciate the summers more because we endure the harsh winters.  Would the sun be so great if we didn’t experience a cloudy day?  I look back to our honeymoon and remember feeling absolute bliss as we took a ferry to tour the French Riviera.  We ended up at one of the most beautiful white beaches in San Tropez where Ben and I wrestled each other in the water.  I remember walking the streets of Paris with our friends.  I cherish these moments even more now and I look forward to more moments like this in the future.  While at our Childbirth Prep class this weekend many were complaining about not receiving a voucher for parking.  Ben and I laughed as we talked about how we have to pay $10 for parking each time we come to the hospital- some weeks it’s been every day.  My sweet baby:  remember to keep your life in perspective.  And while I am not trying to downplay what you are experiencing or push away your emotions I want you to remember that in the end the good always outweighs the bad.  You will look back at these moments and laugh that you worried so much.

Pity Party

I’ve mentioned before that not every day is a great day… my positive hat falls off from time to time.  Some days I feel more at peace and full of joy than I even did before the diagnosis. Other days I get down and yes, even feel sorry for myself…call me a normal human being. 

One of my favorite parts of any normal day used to be after work when Ben and I would go to the gym and I’d have some “Athena time”.  Working out or running was my release, considering I office at home and need some time to separate work from life.  But lately, as you can imagine, the gym has been a tough place for me.  I will be honest, the first time I went to the gym without my hair was hard and honestly it hasn't gotten much easier.  My belly has been growing in rapid speed now and it shows clearly through my tight gym clothes.  I notice that everyone is looking at me out of the corner of their eyes.  That’s understandable. I would wonder what the heck was going on too.  A bald, pregnant woman?  I realize they are looking on with concern but still it’s tough to be the one that stands out as something that’s hard to understand.  Obviously pregnancy brings on quite a change to a woman’s body.  Couple that with the changes contributed from chemo and it’s a lot to take on when you look in the mirror.   I wish I could have every young woman/teenager experience this feeling.  You learn a lot about yourself when you are stripped of your physical attributes.  The gym no longer serves as a place to clear my thoughts but rather a place where they flood my brain and I have to deal with a lot of different emotions.  Again, this is a process of growth for me and some days it’s empowering and some days it’s hard. 

Chemo + Pregnancy = Muscle Fatigue…duh, no kidding.  It blows my mind how I can actually feel this drug cycle through my body.  The first couple days after an infusion my heart races from the steroids and I think I should go burn this off at the gym.  But as soon as I begin running it’s as if I did 100 squats right before.  My legs feel like jello within the first half mile even. I’ll do about 10 reps of free weights and it feels like I am at the tail end of a 3 hour workout.  I have 3 weeks between each treatment.  During my third week I gain my strength back and I actually feel quite sad when the “Sunday Before” comes around.  Then I know it starts all over again the next day.   About a month ago I was talking about how The Big C couldn’t keep me down and I was able to top off 5 miles still.  I knew it was only a matter of time where those miles would shorten and my run would come to a jog and even a walk.  After 4 infusions and 24 weeks of pregnancy I’ve had to set different goals that are more reachable.  But here’s the secret…I am still winning as long as my mind is in the right place.   When physical activity or a sport has a big part of your life it is tough to see these changes.  I’ve always correlated physical strength and endurance with inner strength and perseverance.  Now that inner strength needs to channel from elsewhere.   

You’ll find that inner strength is harder to come by when you’ve been stripped of many of the things that make you happy:  good health, energy, physical strength, looks.  And so Debbie Downer comes out to play for a day and she feels oh so sorry for herself.  “I’ve worked so hard to get where I am at.  Why do I have to go through this now?” “Ben and I are in the midst of starting a family, one of the happiest times of our life.  Why this dark cloud during what should be this sweet time?”  “This is not fair!  I lead a healthy lifestyle, why me?” “Why can’t I ever catch a break?  It’s one thing after another”….blah, blah blah… Debbie goes on and on. 

One of the hardest things to do during times of trial and tribulation is to count your blessings.  But, what I’ve found is that this is the most critical time to do so.  Otherwise you go down this path of self-pity and that gets you nowhere.  Then poof, inner strength diminishes and your fight becomes well…rough.  I’ve learned that concentrating on ways I’ve been blessed brings on healing- emotional and physical.

So here goes:

I am so blessed to have my friends and family beside me through this.  Even those that I don’t know well who have reached out, you touch my heart.  The visits, the thoughts, text messages, prayers, gifts, meals, chemo trips and outreach of help- they make me feel so so special. 

I am blessed to have the love of my family and in-laws.  They are always ready to help me take on anything.  They all call and visit me regularly, I feel spoiled.  My dad (who’s not a big phone talker) now calls me almost daily to check in.  I have to be honest, it’s quite the perk for this ordeal.   

I have been blessed with the best husband! Hey, if your relationship ever needs a pick-me-up you might want to try cancer!  Just kidding of course but there’s something that happens when a life-threatening illness interrupts your life and you realize that those little arguments were not worth it.  You stop taking each other for granted and make the most out of each moment you have with each other.  I feel like I’ve fallen in love again- only this time much harder.   The night of my first chemo treatment Ben (who is border-line narcoleptic) stayed up with me because I could not sleep and comforted me.  I will never forget that moment.  I cried myself to sleep that night and my tears were only a product of deep, abiding, overflowing love for him.  Thank you Cancer!  Without you, non-emotional old-me would have probably never felt that.  We now have a marriage that’s stronger than ever.  Just in time to welcome our new addition (I’d call that another blessing….and she’s healthy!  Need I say it?).

Certainly not last on the list….I’ve been blessed with life, this life on earth and eternal life from God.  I don’t have to live life in fear anymore…of those haunting statistics related to the grade of my tumor.   Constant worry of what might take place in the future is now changed to a focus of living each day like it may be my last.  If I live to be 100 years there is still not enough time to waste worrying about Cancer or whether I get everything done on my to-do list or if I’ll close a big deal or how the lady on the next treadmill keeps trying to sneak a look at me.  

And there we are!  See you later Debbie.  I feel much better…

A letter to my little girl...

Hey there Kiddo,

So now that you are old enough to read this I hope that you are enjoying learning about the journey we endured together as you entered into this world.  You truly are a miracle!  From your perfect little fingers to your perfect little toes that I got to see today.  I can’t wait to meet you, to touch you, to hold your little fingers in mine.  You are my strong fighter…even before you took your first breath here on earth you were tough.  You keep me strong!

We found out today that you are a GIRL!!!, although you made it hard for us to see.  You had the hiccups and were quite the mover.  You must like the spotlight because you wouldn’t turn your head for a profile shot.  You wanted to stare right at the camera.  I get it…that’s not my best side either.  The doctor told us that you look perfectly healthy!  I was so thrilled to hear that and as soon as the words left her lips I had tears in my eyes.  I know without a doubt what your movements feel like now and they seem so much more apparent to me.  In fact, I’m finding it hard to focus at work….you really like to kick.  I’m completely ok with this because I feel like it’s your way of telling me you’re alright…despite it all.

Your dad had quite the twinkle in his eye when he saw you today.   You are going to have an amazing father (wait, you already know this).  He’s endearing and protective and wants so much to care for us.  He is the emotional one.  I wish I was more like that.  I’m sure you will melt his heart and have him wrapped around your finger.  He tells me you are going to be the next Danica Patrick.  I’m sorry your toy room is decorated with cars.  Your dad and your grandpa are what we call “Motor-heads”… they will probably push this on you.  It’s not that bad.  Some day when your tire is flat on the side of the road you will be thankful.

You are oh so special…please never forget that.  I know you must have such an important purpose to contribute to this world given our circumstances.  I cannot wait to see you grow up (and of course once you are, I will wish that you didn’t do it so fast).  Your dad thinks you will someday find the cure for cancer.  I hope you don’t, only because I wish there to be one by then….so you won't have to worry about it, ever again. 

We spent tonight poking at you.  Your dad likes to talk to you through my belly button, like he is on a megaphone.  I wish you could see it.  I’ll try to catch it on camera.  It cracks me up. 

I’m sure there will be times when you don’t like me as you grow up.  I remember…same happened with my mom and me.  But if at any time you wonder how much you mean to me please remember… you are my miracle and I fell in love with you as soon as I knew you were here with us.  You helped save me in more ways than one and for that I feel so blessed to have you call me your mom. 

Love, Mom

 

 

 

I pulled a Britney Spears!

Many cancer survivors say that losing their hair is one of the hardest parts of the fight.   While anticipating it I was obviously not excited for it to happen but I wondered, can it really be that bad?  I would be lying if I said that I don’t care about my looks…and anyone who knows me would call me out on that one.  But really “it’s a small price to pay”. 

The phrase “it’s a small price to pay” can resonate poorly with us Cancer Folks when used too loosely.  I believe I would be speaking for all of us when I say… yes these are small prices to pay to stay alive…we get it…but we are sick of hearing it.  If I were to tell any “normal” pregnant woman that she won’t ever get to breastfeed or that for the first 2-3 months of her newborn’s life she will be unable to care for her baby herself or that this may in fact be the last child she ever will conceive…these would be hard things for her to swallow.  Now add the fact that you have to walk around bald for a good 6 months to a year and you get your boobs cut off and you may go into early menopause AND it’s very likely you will have a hard time with weight gain for the next 10 years…whew! No big deal right?  And really these things are not big deals to me anymore.  There are many people who are going through much more than I am.  Lesson learned.  I can’t believe I used to complain about my hair being too thin or about how easy it was to gain a pound in my 30s.  

The thing is these concerns should be small prices to pay whether you are living with cancer or not.  I wish I could go back in time and tell myself that I shouldn’t have made such a fuss about the little things and that when things weren’t perfect, when I wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t the end of the world.  The great news is that God has given me a second chance to live my life the way I should.  To focus on the small things in life that do matter.  I know, this concept seems so cliché.  You hear it every time someone has a life changing event.  But it never really seems to sink in does it.  You might be touched by someone’s story and remember to stop and smell the roses for a week or two but then you go on with your life, freaking out about the same small insignificant things.  I’m speaking from experience.  This time I’ve got it.  It hit me smack between the eyes thank you very much.  I need to change my
perspective in life.  And I have.

For the last 3 weeks I have been preparing to lose my hair.  Knowing that this is what they say, “going to be one of the hardest parts of the fight”.  I got the wig.  I made it fun by incorporating shopping because that always makes me feel better!  I bought head wraps and beanies and fake eyelashes!  I would tuck my hair into one of the beanies and walk around the house looking at my reflection. But, when my hair started falling out I found myself not prepared at all.  For me, losing my hair was not about appearance and vanity.  It was not about my diminishing looks or not feeling pretty.  For me, losing my hair was about the reality.  The reality that I am sick.  I have cancer.  It’s the difference of showing up to read lines versus having a dress rehearsal.  Now I’m dressed to play the part.  Now Cancer stares back at me every time I look in the mirror.  It’s a constant reminder. 

But it’s true, once you shave it there is a huge feeling of relief.  You come to terms, you move on.  By the time I had what I will call my “Shaving Party” I already had come to terms with the reality.  I just wanted to move on and stop going through the daily routine of pulling handfuls of hair out of my head and picking it off my clothes and counter tops.  And therefore, my party was quite a success!  I couldn’t be more thankful for my wonderful life-long friends that hold me up high and support me through these tough times.  I am so blessed with girlfriends of 20+ years that can make me laugh at what could have been a really crappy experience.  If you come to a point where you find yourself needing to say good-bye to your hair I suggest you do what we did and make it a fun event.  Go extravagant!  Have it slightly resemble your wedding even!  Prepare your wig (don’t let your husband see you in it) and invite all of your bridesmaids over.  Drink wine (or pretend wine if you are pregnant) and cut your hair into a ton of different fun styles because this is the one and only time you can.  Shave some lightning bolts and steps on the side of your head if you can and then get ‘er done.  And of course don’t forget to take lots of pictures!

 

Because I still have not figured out what I am doing I gave up on formatting and sizing pictures and made a video.  It’s a little long and quite amateur but I hope you enjoy it!  A big thank you to my wonderfully talented girlfriends, Shannon Jo and Hilary!  As a stylist, Shannon is crazy-good at short-dos.  Hilary offered up her professional photography skills to capture the moment.  Also thank you to my other life-long girlfriends, my father-in-law, and my hubby... who all came along for the ride. Love you guys!

 

 

Super Human Power?

So I’m going to be honest here….I talk to my cancer in my head likes it’s a real live person.  More like my arch-enemy or nemesis.  Guess I can be PC Girl (Pregnant Cancer Girl for those that are slower) with my pink cape on….

I started out pretty pathetic when it came to my super-hero fighting ability against this thing.  I let my fear get the best of me numerous times.  But one of the biggest fears I encountered was chemo.  I have a love-hate relationship with chemo.  I wanted it so badly to start, yet it freaked the crap out of me to start it.  This is rightfully so.  I mean they make you go to a 1 hour long class just to hear about all the scary side effects.  They range from extreme nausea, terrible muscle cramps, sores that coat your entire mouth, fatigue so bad you can’t fix your bed (true story, it was on the video), and even your finger nails falling off.  The night before I got my first treatment I took it upon myself to learn more about what I could expect.  I went on some cancer blogs and read some internet message boards.  I can now say that that was a dumb idea.  Don’t do it if you are in my shoes…it doesn’t help!  It just freaked me out worse.  Those that post typically just want a place to bitch.  Needless to say, I didn’t sleep the night before chemo.

They nickname it the “Chemo Lounge”.  Oh how they try to make it seem so inviting and comfortable!  The chairs look like you could sit down and get a pedicure in them.  There are snacks and big TVs.  And yet, this is still the least inviting place I have come by.   I tried hard to not show my overwhelming anxiety as we walked in.   You’ll have to ask my mom and Ben if I did a good job concealing that.  They have to hook me up to the IV that they will be administering my drugs through.  I had a portacath placed in my chest a couple days before that hooks up to my main artery- this is what they hook the IV to.  It pumps the chemo right to my heart.  Getting it inserted was not fun.  There was an 80 year old man at chemo class that said it was a breeze.  I don’t know what he was smoking but that was not my experience.  Maybe it’s different when you have lots of hangy skin around there!

They first pump you with some anti-nausea meds that are comprised of some type of steroid.  If I’m Batman this is my Robin.  They are my first line of defense against the awful side effects from the chemo.  They work wonders and I’m very happy that I’m going through this in the era of advanced medicine- they’ve come along way with these.  They also provide their own set of side effects but nothing too bad.  Next comes the Adriamycin – the “Red Devil”.  They have to slowly insert it with a syringe.  It’s red so they can see if it accidentally spills out of the vein or port.  That would be a very bad thing you see because it kills any tissues it comes in contact with.  Really?  I can’t believe this stuff is ok for my baby!  (I do the research again and yes there are studies that confirm this).  Next comes the Cytoxan.  This can burn your sinuses when being administered and leave a metal taste in your mouth.  I didn’t experience either but I could feel it pumping in my veins which completely gave me the heebie-jeebies!  And that’s it.  It takes about 2 hours to complete….now you sit back and wait.   

And of course I waited for the worst. 

I should have known…the chemo wasn’t what I had to worry about.  The steroids would be the thing to do me in.  That night I felt like I could jump out of bed any second and do 100 jumping jacks.  I didn’t sleep a wink.  I also felt like there was not enough water in the world to ever subside my thirst.  Which as you can imagine turned into its own problem; I was up constantly to use the bathroom.  The next day I felt great. I was thrilled.  I went to the gym and had to actually slow myself down on the treadmill.  I’m sure this was the steroids but hey, I’ll take it.  I found myself yelling at Cancer in my head- I’ll admit I may have used some obscenities and lots of trash talk (pulled what we now can call the “Sherman”…ok no, I wasn’t that bad).   My run was exhilarating.  Talk about a runner’s high.  Two days before and I would have never thought I would be doing this….running after chemo, pregnant…cool!   While running, I started to think about how important it is for me to stay strong, not just for myself but for my baby.  We are in this together.  This motivates me even more.  I will come here and get this internal pep talk every day (and talk smack to Cancer) until I physically cannot do it anymore; this is important to my fight.  Running that day was a small victory.  I still get to do what I love, even if it’s just for now.  I feel strong. I gained back some control.  The evil Cancer can’t take it all….Athena: 1, Cancer: 0. 

It’s now been 2 weeks since my first treatment.  I have had minimal side effects.  I get some nasty headaches early in the morning and late at night.  I wonder if this is my body telling me I’m fatigued.  What is fatigue?  I’ve never really had it….this word has never been in my vocabulary.  It scares me because I am constantly doing something.  I don’t want to lie down and be sick.  “I’ve got things to do!”  Headaches, slight fatigue, cotton mouth, constant bathroom breaks, inability to get a good night’s sleep…and of course…chemo pimples!  (Almost sounds like a hangover to me!) That’s about it.  I can’t complain.  I have to give props to all the prayers, God, my healthy lifestyle, and my baby.  I believe the baby gives me my appetite.  If it’s anything like its father this is something it can easily contribute to.  In my head I work to not focus on these side effects….again, this is something I can control.  In order to not give Cancer any of the credit I simply tell myself this is all part of a normal pregnancy….Athena: 2, Cancer: 0.

So now that I have you all believing in my Super Human Power and ability to kick some Cancer-you-know-what (sorry, no swearing, gotta keep this PG, my kid’s going to read this someday)… I have to be honest, there is nothing super about it.  It is not all positive thinking, rainbows, and gumdrops that float around in my head.  As I mentioned in the beginning I rather not reflect or talk about the negatives.  There are enough blogs that do that out there.  Yes, I agree you need to address some of it and I will.  I don’t avoid it or live in denial.  Yesterday was particularly a really tough day.  My hair started falling out, my blood work came back and my white blood cell count has tanked to a serious low, and at the gym I felt extremely out of breath.  There are many times death creeps back into my head, I will admit it.  It should.  I need to respect my opponent to fight it.  This disease is not pretty.  It kills.  You can think you get it all and then it sneaks back in….Stage 4…that’s scary.  But, why allow it to steal my thunder.  Whether I have a couple days, a couple years, or a long lifetime- Cancer does not deserve to own my thoughts or my day.  What I think and what I allow myself to believe is yet again what I have control over….Athena: 3, Cancer: 0. 

     Bump #1:  this is the port that will save my veins from being poked too much.  It grosses me out and I hate to touch it!

    Bump #2:  Everyone's been asking so here it is.  This is the 1st picture taken of my baby bump (18 weeks!)  and the last picture to be taken with my own hair.  I told myself I would never do this pose but we wanted to accentuate "the bump".  Thank you to my beautiful and talented friend, Hilary Handahl, for taking these!

My Diagnosis

So everyone has to talk about how it felt to hear it. How it feels to forever have your life taken, turned upside down, and shaken over and over again. Take every moment you've ever felt worried, nervous, excited, bottle it up and that's the feeling. Your first junior high dance, waking up and noticing you have 30 minutes to get to your final college exam, your first day on your "big girl" job, your dad's surgery, giving your first presentation to a board of directors, walking down the aisle.  It's true...you lose your breath, you shake, your heart goes nuts, you don't think anything for a moment and then death rushes to your mind. I imagine this is the same in every grief-on-set moment. I remember wanting nothing more than to feel safe and in my mind trying to figure out how to run and hide or find someone that could help me at that very moment. I wanted to turn back time and change what I just heard.  I wanted to gain back my control. I wouldn't let the nurse hang up for fear that I would need her to call an ambulance. I remember that the plumber was at our house and I for some crazy reason felt better that at least he was there to resuscitate me if needed!  I hung up and immediately thought about our baby.  I had already done the research. I knew that I could fight the cancer while pregnant and not hurt the baby.  But at this point I was so scared that my current state of pure and utter nuttiness would surely cause harm to the baby in itself.  After I hung up I called my husband.  I felt bad telling him, sad that I was ruining his day, and that I was being insensitive because I didn’t tell him in some fancy way.  I just blurted out “you need to come home because I have cancer!”.

Unfortunately, we had to wait the weekend to hear any more information.  That was pure HELL.  Thank God my family came up to help keep my mind off of it.  I went through many stages of disbelief, anger, sadness, self-pity, and fear.  Ben and I would wake up in the morning look at each other and start crying.  It was a very tough weekend- but we got through it.

The next week I gained what I needed:  information and a PLAN! Having a plan felt like I could take back a little bit of control.  A lot of people I talk to and read about talk about the loss of control from cancer.  It is one of the toughest parts about it.  You did nothing to get this, you can do nothing to change that you were diagnosed with it.    

So here’s what they told me.  I had a bad day in the cell-making business one day.  Turns out many of us do- microscopic cancer cells are created in everyone’s body at some point.  But mine grew for whatever reason.  The stars aligned and at some given point when my immune system was down, it grew.   During pregnancy your immune system lowers and your body tells it to let things grow and cells to multiply…because that’s what’s happening to the baby.  It can’t distinguish between a cancerous tumor and an embryo.  Also, I was one big walking hormone at this point.  My tumor is estrogen positive so it was if the pregnancy was fighting against me…kind of like Bella on Twilight (I know, dumb, but some of my friends will like that reference!).   Being pregnant with cancer means I have a very aggressive cancer.  The worst grade- 3/3, that’s how it read on my pathology report.  This is apparently quite common for Pregnancy Associated Breast Cancer (PABC).  I was given a clinical stage of 2- with one known lymph node infected.  They can’t be certain how much further it has spread because it is too risky to run the other tests while pregnant but he thinks it is "contained in these 2 areas".  

My treatment is 4 cycles of what is known in Cancer World as the “Red Devil” or “AC cocktail”.  A mix of Adriamycin and Cytoxan once every 21 days (I remember the “C” one because it sounds like “toxin”).  Then I start Taxol, another form of chemo, for 12 weeks, administered every week.  My team of doctors will work together to come up with a plan as to when they will induce me.  They'll take the baby somewhat early. We are looking at somewhere around 37-38 weeks.  We need to be careful and have it nicely planned (I like that) making sure the baby is growing as it should and ready.  I will have a very small break from the chemo to make sure Baby K and I are strong and ensure my platelets are high enough before I give birth.  They absolutely want a natural birth so that I can begin chemo treatment right away after.  My surgery will come after that.  We are to discuss my options later.  They are doing chemo first because the surgery would be more risky to the baby and because we want to stop the spreading of cancer dead in its tracks.  We already know that it is as far as one lymph node.  After the surgery and 16 treatments we will hope I'm in remission....no, no, no...I WILL be in remission (positive affirmation people!).  Then starts an anti-estrogen pill for 10 years.  This basically puts me into a menopausal state (awesome!) but this will be my best friend.  It helps ward off the recurrence of cancer.  When cancer comes back it usually comes back with a vengeance.   It's probably every cancer survivor's nightmare.  I have an amazing team of doctors and an even better team of Prayer Warriors on my side!  Thank you all so much for the thoughts, gifts, notes of encouragement, and prayers!  So begins the fight….

 

The Lump

First, have I mentioned how much I hate blogs? Really, I'm kidding. Since I was diagnosed I've read a lot of blogs that have helped me....and to be honest some that haven't. I just hate that I'm blog-illiterate. I spent about 3 hours last night making this very simple page. I ended up giving up and did most of the formatting on my never-fail application, Power Point. One of the many applications I live in for work. Did you catch my fancy title and description?  I felt like I was back in English class :-).  If you're wondering why I decided to start this blog please read the "About me" section. It's been nearly 2 1/2 weeks since I found out I have breast cancer. A lot has happened in that time. I have a lot of catching up to do. I'll try to do that in the next week or two and then probably provide updates just here and there.

Many people have asked how I found "The Lump".  I'll start there.

Early October I was out for one of my last outdoor runs before the brutal cold takes over. It was one of those days when you just take everything in, appreciate the world's beauty, and yes...even turn off the iPod. These are the days that I feel especially in tune with my body. And this is the day that I first noticed my lump. It started as tenderness. Then when I got home, in the shower, I did a self-exam. I felt something very small- I wasn't sure if it was anything at all. I ended up making a doctor's appointment. I continued to feel tenderness that week and I knew that the culprit was either my left breast or my heart- which in my case, seemed way more practical. I am by nature an anxiety ridden, over-worked, worrywart.

The outcome of my doctor's appointment became a funny story to tell everyone when we shared our exciting news. "So, little ol' worried Athena goes in thinking she has breast cancer or an onset of a heart attack and finds out she is newly pregnant!". After examining my breast and giving me an EKG my doctor noted The Lump as natural changes in my breast due to pregnancy. I then proceeded to go to my prenatal appointments. My first appointment I told them my funny story about The Lump.

A couple weeks later I noticed my little lump had grown and was hard, the size of a marble. I told the nurse about it and she again said it was part of pregnancy. This happened twice as I watched The Lump grow. It wasn't until mid-December when I laid in bed that I came to the conclusion that I knew my body best and that I needed to get this checked out.  It had grown to the size of a quarter in such a short time. The next day I had an appointment to exam my breast. I spent all of Christmas worrying about my results and when the call came in the Friday after I could barely answer it. Then I heard her say those words...."I'm so sorry".  That's really all I remember.

I'm telling people this because through other stories like mine I've learned that it is very common for breast cancer to be noticed at a later stage in pregnant women due to misdiagnosis and thinking it is a natural part of the pregnancy.  Please remember, don't put all of your trust in your doctors...you know your body best.  Pregnancy Associated Breast Cancer is becoming more common due to women waiting to start a family later in life.  You are not being a "worrywart" if you bring up something that concerns you when you are pregnant, you are being careful.  My Oncologist told me that "I found it in time".  Not early, but in time....due to my persistence.  I'll take that.

Pictures from my fall run