Prologue

I guess first I should explain the title. I have had cancer twice before and now I may have it again. On the seventeenth anniversary of the day I started chemotherapy for Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, I was having a mammogram for a lump I found in my breast.

I kind of feel like a giant cancer cell with legs and arms. But then I think that this cancer thing is happening to the shell in which my being resides. In other words, my being is not affected by what happens to my body (the shell). How I handle this is what determines who I am and who I choose to be.

I remember when I was told I had Lymphoma. My husband was in the Air Force and we were stationed in Alaska. We had to fly to Seattle to go to a larger hospital. I was in a blur, so I pretty much did whatever I was told to do. Have this biopsy, take this test, see this doctor, attend this class, and talk to these people. I did all that. Everything that was done to my body helped, but there was one thing that made me understand that my body isn’t who I am. I walked into a waiting room shortly after my arrival to Seattle and saw a woman with no hair who was wearing a Levi, floppy hat with a huge daisy holding up the front of the brim. She was smiling. I thought at first, What does she have to smile about? But then, I got it. Her body may be ravaged by the disease, but her spirit was alive and well. I decided then that I would also be that kind of patient. It was the best decision I ever made. (I also found a hat like hers and wore it a lot.)

Eight chemo treatments, two biopsies, one insertion of a Groshan catheter, countless blood tests and CT Scans, two blood transfusions, and self injections of a drug to keep my white blood count up and I became a survivor instead of a patient.

Two years ago, I was told I had Endometrial Cancer. Age and experience gave me enough wisdom to say “Just take out everything. I don’t need it anymore.” One CT Scan, one surgery, one small infection, and I was good to go.

And now this……

I am writing this in a day to day format, because I don’t want to forget what happened when and also because my readers (whoever you are) will understand how long it actually takes to get on the road to treatment and, hopefully, remission.

Peace,

Tracy

Days One Through Five

Day One - Friday

I actually didn’t find the lump, my husband did. We were taking a shower together and as he was washing me, he raised my arms. He started to soap up my boobs and suddenly stopped. “This wasn’t here before,” he said. The whole day changed. He got out of the shower, leaving me soapy and doing a self exam. I looked at him through the fogged shower doors; he just put his head down and left the room.

I was more hurt by his reaction than I was by the discovery, so I turned off the shower dried off and followed him to the bedroom. “Why? Why did you walk away?” I said.

“Because I’m scared. I’m so scared.”

You see, cancer doesn’t affect just your body and spirit. It affects all who love you and their spirits. My husband’s spirit was crushed and I felt that it was my fault. Which was stupid! I have no more control of the fact that I may or may not have cancer than I have control over whether the sun rises or not. And yet, guilt was there.

I promised him I would call my doctor on Monday and get in as soon as possible.

We continued our day with a huge new visitor. Nothing felt right anymore.

Day Two and Three – Saturday and Sunday

We were busy. We spent Saturday in Phoenix. I went shopping and Randy tried to help put his new (well, new to him) semi in good working order. I told my sister-in-law because I knew she had had a lump that turned out to be nothing. She told me to get it checked out and call her.

No more talk about the lump or the doctor or what may or may not be growing inside me again.

Day Four - Monday

Got a much needed pedicure with my friend Joanie. She’s so cute and always seems to be happy. It’s kinda contagious. Didn’t say anything to her about the lump. So far, I’ve only told Randy, Kat, my dad, Boneda and Jennifer. If it’s nothing, I don’t want to worry too many people. I’ll let everyone else know when I get the results of the biopsy.

I called my OB/GYN who couldn’t squeeze me in until the end of the month. That didn’t make Randy happy, so I called my Family Practice doctor and her nurse squeezed me in that afternoon.

My doctor is always late, but always takes lots of time with each patient. I guess that’s why I’m willing to wait for an hour to see her. She walked into the room and said, “So, you’ve grown a lump.” She did the exam and she recommended a mammogram. I asked loads of questions. She gave me a few answers and a referral.

I went to my car and called the Radiology office to set up an appointment. They had one for Wednesday. I took it and then called one of my oldest and dearest friends. “Could you come with me on Wednesday? I’m having a mammogram to check out a lump.” She didn’t hesitate in saying “yes”.

My body was tired, but my spirit was lifted.

Day Five - Tuesday

Honestly, I just wanted to get in my car and drive to anywhere but here. I always feel that way when I’m uberstressed. I just want to drive. Just head for the coast, sit on the sand, and breathe in the salt air. It doesn’t do a thing for my shell, but it renews my spirit and I really needed that. But finances being what they are, I didn’t go. I just worked on some things around my house and waited for Wednesday.

Randy left this morning for work and I don’t know when I’ll see him again.I feel very alone.

From the Mammogram to the Biopsy

Day Six - Wednesday

At this point, I have not said a thing to my children. I don’t want them to worry about things that may or may not be. Even though they are in their thirties, they are still my babies and I try to protect them all I can. Which is stupid, but I do. I will tell them when I get the results and know what it is. Good or bad. Then we can all get our spirits together and help each other. Right now, I would just be asking them to wait and worry and worrying wears down the soul. We’ll save the worrying for later, if we have to.

My appointment for my first mammogram EVER was at 10:40, so I was about ½ an hour early and Kat was about 5 minutes late. We’re funny that way; each of us with our own little quirks that kind of meld together.

The mammogram went better than I had expected. I had visions of torture chambers in my head, but it was alright and there was even a teddy bear I could hold. After a glimpse of the mammogram, they did a sonogram. My FIRST sonogram. (Just one big day of firsts.) The radiologist reminded me of a 50’s version of a Yale graduate and it was all I could do to keep from laughing.

After a review of all the pics, they wanted me to come back and do a biopsy. Actually two biopsies – the normal one and one to check out some calcified spots. All this is on my left breast; nothing shows up other than the lump and the calcifications, so I take that as a good sign. I make the appointment for the biopsies for the following Monday. Change back into my clothes and Kat and I go to have coffee.

Day Seven, Eight, and Nine – Thursday, Friday, and Saturday

Not much going on. Normal stuff, like housework and grocery shopping. I talk to Randy a lot on the phone and decide that I want to get my genealogy caught up and work on the journal I’m making for Amy. All of a sudden, my brain is saying I need to get these things caught up. I went through this before and I’m trying to think if it’s just something everyone does after they find a lump or if I truly know that something is wrong. All this time, I’ve thought only that I had a lump, but all of a sudden I think it could actually be Cancer again and I begin getting “my affairs” in order. Seemed like the natural thing to do. I also wrote out a new “bills to be paid list” and finished the squares for my granny square afghan. I guess, if nothing else, the lump has made me finish projects all over the house.

Day Ten - Sunday

I went to church with Boneda and Robert at 7:40 am. Didn’t like it. It felt more like a production number for a little theater than a church service. I won’t go again, but I would like to test out a couple more churches on Sundays when Randy isn’t home. He hates church. Something that happened to us a long time ago he just can’t drop, but that’s him – not me.

I spent the rest of the day with the Andersons watching football and shopping. I laughed a lot, which is exactly what I needed.

At Kohl’s, I spotted a necklace with the pink crystal cancer ribbon on it and told myself not to buy it. No need for that now. Don’t even know what this is yet.

Day Eleven - Monday

Biopsy day! I spent the morning cleaning the kitchen and such. Kat came out to pick me up. We had a fast lunch and headed back into town. I popped a Xanax in the parking lot. As soon as I walked into the building my blood pressure went through the roof, my face was all red and the nurse was surprised at how high it was. After talking to me for a long time about exactly what they were going to be doing, my blood pressure dropped and my Xanax kicked in. I was in a happy place.

First procedure, I felt like a 1955 Buick that was lifted up so they could work on it. My left boob was sticking through a hole in the table and I had to lie still while they probed and poked and stuck needles in me. It wasn’t much fun, but way better than the other biopsies I had endured.

After this one, I was whisked away to another room for the next one. Much easier, much less time.

The radiologist who performed both biopsies was great; caring, concerned, calm. She told me she wouldn’t have the results until Thursday and I should call my doctor then.

I was sent home with an ice pack on my breast and instructions not to do anything tonight and most of tomorrow. Kind of hard to do when you basically live alone. I made some tomato soup and a really good grilled cheese sandwich for dinner and settled in with my ice pack to spend the evening watching TV.

Happy New Year!

Day Twenty-Seven – Wednesday – New Year’s Day

I decide to carry on my tradition of Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls and the Rose Parade. The tube of rolls was being very difficult. The outer paper just wouldn’t come off. After several times of beating it against everything in my kitchen, I decide to use a knife. DON’T DO THIS – EVER! The knife slips and goes into my hand between my thumb and finger. I grab the first thing I can – paper towels - and head for the sink. I let cold water run over the wound and it is not stopping the bleeding, but it did clean out the wound. I slap the paper towels on it and wonder how I’m going to drive myself to the emergency room, because it obviously needs stitches.

I’m in my pajamas, so I go back to my room to change clothes and go. Then I sit on my bed and cry. I can’t drive myself because this won’t stop bleeding. How can I change my clothes? Who do I call? It’s 7 in the morning and I don’t know my neighbors well enough to go knocking on their door with a paper towel wrapped around my hand in my jammies.

So, I call my sister-in-law Darla. She doesn’t answer. Then I call my sister-in-law Boneda and find out how horrible her night was. Before I even finish my conversation with Boneda, her husband Robert is dressed and on his way to my house. I change my clothes, run a comb through my hair, turn off the oven and the coffee pot, and let the dog out. I also have to get a new paper towel before this one is soaked through. Robert arrives.

Darla, in the meantime has called. I have talked with Randy. Darla decides that the Urgent Care center across from her is the best place and she will meet us there as she just got out of the shower and her hair is wet. Okie, dokie. Robert drives me there and it’s not open until 9. It’s now 8:30. So Darla takes me to the Marana Urgent Care that is not open today at all. At this point, we are both laughing about the stupidity of having Urgent Care facilities that are not open except during regular business hours.

We go back to the original place, the doors open and I’m whisked away into a room immediately. The bleeding had stopped until the nurse (really wonderful woman who recently lost her husband to lung cancer) started to clean the wound. More bleeding.

But all this was nothing compared to the shots the doctor did to numb me before the stitches. I have tattoos and I’m not afraid of needles, but DAMN this hurt.

Finally numb and stitched, cleaned up and bandaged – I pay my co-pay and Darla and I head for the bathroom. I have injured my left hand so I think it’s no big deal. Not so. It’s hard to wash one hand when the other one is useless. I found out just how much I needed my left hand by the end of day.

Darla took me to the grocery store for a couple of things and then home. I was feeling better and grateful that all those wonderful people came to my rescue. I know Randy felt awful that he was so far away, but he trusted that his family would take care of me.

I do hope, with all my heart that the rest of our year goes better than the first day. Time will tell.

Day Twenty-eight – Thursday

I am just going to spend the day watching TV and resting my hand. Boring, right? But the most normal thing that has happened in the last 2 months. Love it.

Day Twenty-nine – Friday

I guess you’ve noticed by now that not much has been actually done about my cancer. I learned quickly from the first time I had cancer that it is a game of waiting. Doctors don’t much trust their instincts anymore because of litigation, so they order every test in the world. And, as a patient, I have the right to deny taking the tests, but there is always the little voice in the back of your head that says “What if?”. What if I don’t do the breast MRI and they find way more during surgery? That’s easy; they can take care of it once I’m all opened up. I hate waiting. I just want them to do the surgery already. But, as Randy told me, I’m not going to be a happy person the first time I look in the mirror and the scars where my boobs used to be. But the longer I wait, the more scared I become and that could mean greater anxiety and less good feelings.

I’m still waiting for the HER2/NEU test results. I’ll call on Monday.

Today I ventured out of my hole and went shopping. I took a shower and it felt so good. Clean hair, clean person, out the door. I quickly realized that pushing a shopping cart with a cut between your thumb and finger isn’t much fun and my hand was telling me this trip could have waited one more day or so. But there are things to be done and places to go, so I venture forth. Too bad I don’t have a bag boy to unload my car when I get home.

Randy is still out on the road with lousy loads and pending bad weather. I try not to worry, but that’s almost impossible. Too much worry in my life and not enough good vibes. Gotta get some good vibes.

As I was falling asleep, I realized that I haven’t called the American Cancer Society. I need to do that tomorrow and find a group. It truly does help to talk with people who have been there or people who are going through what you are.

We're up to Day Forty-two......

Day Forty – Tuesday

I started off the day trying to coordinate a day when both of my surgeons had openings. They are on the east side of town and Randy only wants to take one day off of work. We finally had a meeting of the minds and we will be seeing both of them on January 23. There will probably be tests to perform and such before the surgery and, since both my doctors are highly respected and busy, we aren’t sure when the surgery will be. I’m just ready. If I wait much longer, I’ll get more anxious.

Today was the “run around Tucson” day for us. Randy had to drop off paper work for his new/old job, then to the bank, then to Target (where I found out that if you call in a prescription on Sunday, it may or may not be ready for you by Tuesday), then lunch, stopped by his parents’ house to give them the news from the doctor, then off to the barber, and Sam’s Club for gas and groceries. On our way home, we stopped by Target, again, and found that the prescription had not been filled. I called my doctor’s office and was told that they couldn’t get through on the phone lines. It is, apparently, not Target’s policy to actually call a doctor’s office when a prescription has been waiting for two days. But I got it all straightened out.

Out of the house by 10, back home by 4:30. Long day.

Day Forty-one – Wednesday

Randy and I just sat around the house all day, again. We do a lot of that. Not sure why. Not sure I want to change it. Something to ponder.

Got a call from my oncologist’s office. The nurse said my Vitamin D levels were way too low and I needed to start taking Vitamin D. Add that to my grocery list and then back to watching TV.

Day Forty-two – Thursday

Randy left for work early this morning and will, probably, be home for dinner. The job and he are getting used to each other again. This may take a couple of weeks.

The dog has taken to waking me up at 4:30 am for the last 3 days and I am tired of my whining alarm clock. I should just go back to bed, but once I’m up, I’m up.

I had a Facebook conversation with some people who are very close to me. My comment about getting new boobs….I don’t know how to put this…they knew I was kidding around, so they wanted to join in. But, I was offended by their comments and told them so. This surprised me, as well as them. I kid about getting new boobs because it makes it tolerable for me to know that I will be losing yet another part of me that makes me a woman. In all actuality, it terrifies me. I know the first time I look in the mirror, I’m going to be so very depressed and I’m not sure I can laugh my way out of it. Randy is not as fully on board as I would like for him to be, but he has to deal with this, too. We both know it’s for the best – better to save the whole person and sacrifice the boobs – but no matter how many times you say it and understand it; they are still a huge part of who I am.

I’m still here when others aren’t. I’ve looked death in the face more than once and was told it wasn’t my time. I think I’m a little worried that my nine lives are running out and I’m not ready. I have grandchildren and I want to see them graduate from high school, get married, find a life, and have children of their own. There are places I still want to see and things I still want to do.

Life has left me with a lot of physical and emotional scars. They have all made me who I am today – for better or worse. I hope more for the better.