Ready to cross the rope bridge

Okay, I admit it. I've been avoiding my blog. There's so much on my mind lately, so much to say, that I feel overwhelmed with the time and commitment it would take to share it all.

Things happen during the week and I'll think, "I should write about that on my blog." But so much piles up so quickly that I couldn't possibly share it all.

So, I'll just get to the point. I had my second surgery for breast cancer last Monday, October 6th. This time, I wasn't nearly as freaked about it because I had a good idea of what was going to happen and since no lymph nodes were going to be taken, it was even a little easier.

The difference the second time is that I had a port-a-cath inserted in my upper chest area, left side. It left me a little bruised and tender for a few days, but it's not so bad. It just feels a little weird having it there.

I just feel so relieved to have that second surgery over with. Dr. J. (the surgeon) came in to talk to me before the surgery this time and met my parents.

The gist of what he said was that he looked at the pathology from my first surgery again and talked to the pathologist again and (reading between the lines), I don’t think either one of them felt this second surgery was necessary.

H e said something about the other pathologist (the one from Swedish Hospital) being known for being argumentative and needing to find something all the time, but regardless, it would be a liability for him if he DIDN’T do the surgery since the question was raised.

So I got the distinct feeling that he was put out and it might partly be because it was putting me through all of this again. But I had to have the port-a-cath installed anyway, so at least I got that done while I was “out.”

I saw my surgeon yesterday for a post-op appointment and he proudly reported that THIS time, he got 1.8cm and 1.2cm margins on the tissue he removed, all NEGATIVE for any residual cancer cells, thanks be to God. The minimum margin required is 2mm, so I'm "in the clear," as they say.

I remarked to my husband that Dr. J. seemed so pleased about the large margins, I could almost hear him saying to the Swedish pathologist, "Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it!" Anyway, I'm happy it's behind me now and I feel better about my prognosis with the larger margins.

I was surprised that this surgery took a little more out of me than the first one. I expected to just bounce back like I did after my lumpectomy last August. Instead, I was still feeling light-headed four days later. I did, however, discontinue the pain pills after the first day and switch to extra-strength Tylenol. I'm happy to report that I didn't have to deal with much pain, thank goodness.

Four days after surgery, I was watching a movie at home with my husband and daughter and I reached with my right hand to scratch my back on the left side. I was shocked to feel a little "knob" on my back that was protruding from a square patch. My first thought was that my port-a-cath was somehow going from my chest to my back! Yikes!

I exclaimed and my husband stopped the movie to ask what was wrong. I pulled up my shirt and asked him to look at my back. He chuckled and said that the operating team had forgotten to remove the EKG patches they had placed there after they anesthetized me. Indeed, I had TWO patches on my back, one on each side! I'd showered and everything and never noticed them . . . sheesh!

Last week, my sister-in-law surprised me by sending a package in the mail. I opened it up to find a book titled, "It's Not About The Hair," a pink beanie baby (for breast cancer), and a lovely potholder made by her friend who recently completed breast cancer treatment. The potholder was ivory with a pink "breast cancer" ribbon in the center.

Now, I just finished reading (more like devouring) the book and I have to say that I loved it. It was touching and humorous. The author is a woman who has worked for 20 years as a chaplain in the oncology department of Seattle Cancer Care Alliance. She was also diagnosed with breast cancer a couple of years ago and has since completed treatment.

The book details her experiences with various patients she has met along the way, in addition to her fairly upbeat and humorous take on going through treatment herself.

She writes, "Going through treatment is a lot like walking on a rope bridge. You're so intent on getting to the other side, you have no idea over what you have just crossed."

For some reason, that analogy really resonated with me. That's exactly how I feel--that I'm beginning to walk over a rope bridge (those things were never "fun" for me), focusing solely on the step ahead of me.

As I prepare to begin chemotherapy treatments (my first one is six days away), I admit to feeling terribly anxious. But I try to stay focused on just one step at a time and look forward to the day when my treatment will be behind me. And I keep telling myself: it could be a lot worse (and it could).

As preparation, I've scheduled an appointment in two days to try on wigs. I'm told that my hair will start to fall out about two weeks after my first treatment. I want to be ready. I want to have head coverings!

I've been thinking a lot lately about how much I have to be thankful for in life, especially for family and friends. Cancer will do that to you. I was walking through the mall last Friday and as I passed a particular store, I briefly remembered that it used to be a photo studio.

I remember taking my daughter there for photos several times when she was a baby and a toddler. Suddenly, I had those pangs of warmth and tenderness mixed with sadness and grief while thinking of those days gone by so quickly. I'm guessing all moms know the feelings I'm talking about. All of those feelings welling up in a 20 second trip past a store in the mall (sigh). Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my "baby" turned 18 last week. And as embarrassing as it is to her, she'll always be my little "boo bear." :~)

I've always been a sentimental type anyway. I love looking at family photos (even other people's photos), so when a teacher at our school emailed a link to a new website for creating slide presentations, I knew I was a goner.

The website is called "Animoto" and it's pretty cool. I decided to try it out and uploaded some family photos with music. The website will automatically create a presentation for you, adjusting the photos to the tempo of the music. Each presentation is different, so you can re-mix the video again and again if you don't like the first mix.

Anyway, take a look at the end result, below. I sent the link to my husband and he surprised me by saying that he teared up when he watched it (the big ol' teddy bear)! My presentation is titled, "Our family: God's gift to us."