Update

Diagnostic mammogram x2 showed no increase in calcification. Technician told me that 85% of them are benign. Would have been nice to hear that from oncologist 6m ago, but he doesn't care about my mental health, as I well know.

Hair grew back curly -- a new look for me. But I'm keeping it short, since I get SO many compliments on it. Who knew?

Felt a weird hitch in my left chest upon deep breaths, over a 24-hr period. No pain, just.... weird. I could actually hear a click when I breathed deeply. Urgent care doc on this Saturday night tells me this is typical of radiation patients. Calcified muscles in the chest wall rubbing together. Again, would have been nice to know this might happen, so I didn't have to feel like I was having a slow-motion heart attack. Forget about cancer *awareness,* people.... how about educating cancer patients, since their doctors don't?

Oh... and that dream of a trouble-free GI track post-app'y? Merely a dream.

More adventures in cooling

Thanks to this silly but inspiring article in the NYT, I'm off on another search for ways to beat hot flashes into submission. As with so many NYT articles online, the comments are more interesting and informative than the article itself.

And before you start thinking I'm being ridiculous, remember that I'm looking at 5 more years of chemical menopause, thanks to tamoxifen.

One reader suggested Polar-Products, which looks promising. Pretty sure I need a helmet liner for biking, a cool tie, and wrist wraps. If they work, I'll consider the vest. Bra inserts? I don't think so.

Just bad luck

OK then. Nobody thinks the app'y was anything but random, and nobody cares about the gallstones.  Kind of saw that coming.

Appendix no more

Had it out last week, thankfully before it ruptured. They also found gallstones, which my internet sleuthing tells me may be at least partially due to my hormone therapy.

While I'm not thrilled about the prospect of another operation, the idea of having a trouble-free GI track for the first time in my life is quite appealing.

Seeing GP today. Awaiting word from surgeon and oncologist.

Progress

Allrighty now! More meds = fewer hot flashes and less anxiety. (That would be Zoloft, for you fellow-sufferers out there.)

Turns out that caffeine and alcohol are quite reliable triggers of hot flashes. Just my luck.

Focus

Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I seem to be focusing on the 10% chance of recurrence rather than the 90% chance of survival. My subconscious is now turning every strange physical occurence, no matter how minor, into A Symptom Of Something Bigger... namely lung, liver or bone cancer.

Didn't think I'd need it, but I think some quality time with a support group is in order.

Not leaving the baby AND not living in fear of it.

p.s. Surgeon and MD do not think recent problem is related to lymphedema but recommended a visit w a specialist to learn more about it.

Choosing not to worry about it

Routine diagnostic mammogram today turned up calcification on the OTHER side. Was given the choice to have a biopsy, but also told it was probably DCIS and that waiting 6 months to size it again will not affect treatment options.

Trip to lymphedema clinic imminent, though surgeon says the problem may be temporary.

Tamoxifen, so far

The hot flashes don't seem more frequent, but they're definitely more severe. They've gone from primarily head and arm-based to full-body, and with prickly heat, which is quite uncomfortable.

Gonna be a looooooooong summer.

Lymphedema

Really? *sigh*

I work on a hot keyboard all day, so I guess I shouldn't be shocked to wake up to stiff fingers and knuckles. Plus I'm pushing 50, so.... finger stiffness happens in the morning. But this morning I realized that the swelling and stiffness were noticeably worse on my cancer (left) side. I'm right-handed, so it's not as if I over-used my left arm.

And I've not even started any real exercising yet. Research needed.

Reasons to love having very (very) short hair

1. No fuzz factor on rainy or damp days.
2. No management issues on windy days, while exercising, or while driving one's convertible.
3. No bed-head or hat-head.
4. No combs, brushes, or products are necessary.
5. No split ends.
6. No bad hair days.
7. Wash 'n' wear.
8. Makes hot flashes easier to bear.
9. Presumably will make summer in general easier to bear.

Wow. I didn't realize I had so many good reasons!

Returning to normal

.. or as close to normal as I ever get, anyway.

Got out the banjer last night, and looked for the gee-tar. Subjected the toddler to some stompin' old-time music tonight as well as multiple versions of our special song.

Chillow!

Know someone else with breast cancer? Buy her a Chillow. She'll never stop thanking you.

< /radiation>

Yay, me.

It wasn't without side effects, but I'm s t i l l  h e r e.

p.s.

House dreams are about the self, not the actual house!  They're stress dreams, essentially. I tend to have them in periods of upset, when things are changing... I'm not good at change!

When I moved cross-country years ago, I had them for months. I used to dream that the ceiling was falling in, and I was barely getting out of the building in time.

According to dreammoods.com ----

To see a house in your dream represents your own soul and self.

Specific rooms in the house indicate a specific aspect of your psyche. In general, the attic represents your intellect, the basement represents the unconscious, etc.

If the house is empty, then it indicates feelings of insecurity. If the house is shifting, then it suggests that you are going through some personal changes and changing your belief system. To dream that a house has no walls represents a lack of privacy. You feel that everyone is looking over your shoulder or up in your business.

To dream that your house is broken into suggests that you are feeling violated. It may refer to a particular relationship or current situation in your life.

So, cancer treatment is a bit of a physical violation, IMHO. And no matter how much I look for someone to make it stop, it aint gonna happen.

Don't worry, folks. I lock the doors at night!

Must. Finish. Soon.

The death of the great and inspirational Earl Scruggs is doing nothing for my spirits today. Nor are the continuing dreams of people breaking into my house, me seeking help, and not finding it.

Four days of treatment left.

Got a form letter from my radiologist that did nothing to clear up the mystery of his departure, so I'm left to assume malfeasance. (I asked if there was illness and was told there was not.)  Pfeh.

Almost there

Seeing some redness, feeling an itch. But it's not as bad as what most people experience, apparently.

Almost there.

Insomnia

I've not been sleeping. I've not asked for meds, because in my experience, sleeping pills leave you a zombie the next day. So I wake up at 2, and 3:30 and 4:15... and then call it a night and get up.

Advice I've read for cancerous non-sleepers includes:
1. Do not open your eyes when you wake up.
2. Do not look at the clock.

And I've found both those points useful for getting back to sleep. But not useful enough. Need to find a solution.

Bald is beautiful?

It's been well over 80 for the past week, and I've officially given up wearing a hat outside the house. For the second time in a week, I've been complimented on my... er, "do" by random women. We're talking about 1/4 inch of fuzz, here, if that.

I find this very odd. Nice, but odd. Perhaps those ladies recognized the truth and were trying to make me feel better. Whatever the case, thanks, ladies!

Who knows - maybe in a few years I'll be complimenting every bald lady I see.

My doctor.... retired?

At my weekly check-in with the radiation MD (the daily routine is simply a quick treatment), I was greeted by a new doctor, who informed me that my doctor had retired. Just like that. And that he'd be taking over my treatment.

Hmm.

Strange dreams

I think my psyche doesn't think much of having cancer.

Dreamed last night that I was sleeping in my NYC apartment (which I left more than 5 years ago) and awoken by four men entering and robbing me blind. Three of them left with their arms full, one stayed there to watch. I heard a shower running, and in it was my sister, slumped over as if she'd been drugged. I whispered to her, "We're being robbed!" She just looked at me. "But you're a third-degree black belt!" (She is, actually.)

"I know, but I only have a PhD in aikido," she said.

And the robbery continued.... everything that wasn't nailed down. I ran into the hall and whispered to a neighbor that they should call the police... but the police never arrived.

And the other night I dreamed that I was driving my old VW Jetta (which I sold more than 5 years ago) as it was breaking down. Was in some terrible NYC neighborhood, too, as luck would have it.

Hmmm.

Rockin' the fuzz

.. is the way my friend Laura described my current hairstyle. It feels fuzzy, but it doesn't look like much. Still, I know the hair (and eyebrows) are on their way back, and not a moment too soon.

In other news, I see not a single particle of side effect from radiation. So far.

Fellow patients at the clinic are enlightening me about the miseries of tamoxifen, and possible alternatives.

Growing

The best part of my day, these days, is checking on my seedlings in the morning.

New growth happens, regardless of how cold and awful the winter has been!

Tattoos!

Yeah, but not the sexy kind. I now have about 6 little black dots that I didn't particularly want. Seems silly to me, since if this thing comes back, the girls will have migrated south. Unless it's sometime soon. Which, I suppose, is statistically more likely.

Why didn't they do it the first day, rather than use the stickers? Because people apparently relax after the first couple weeks. That explanation made sense early this morning. Now? Not so much. More information tomorrow.

I think I'll take the girls lingerie shopping soon. They deserve some new gear.

Ho hum

I was worried about the radiologist I found since I discovered he does not use custom-measured foam cushions for positioning, which I somehow thought was the state of the art. But having been through one treatment,  I'm not worried. To ensure you're in the same position every day, they draw on you with permanent ink during the initial measurement -- both sides of the body -- then line up the spots with lasers that come out of the walls in the treatment room. Pretty cool, actually.

Surgeon says it'll take a year for all the side effects of chemo to really subside, though apparently my immune system is back to normal now.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Nice choice for a first radiation treatment. Thanks. At least I have lovely little stickers all over myself. I feel like a stripper.

Next step

(I almost typed "Going forward" as the title.... been in the corporate world too long!)

So. My life is one big hot flash, but I have loads of energy, which is making me feel like my old self.

I've put off calling the radiation people, but I have to do it today, since I'm supposed to start that this week.

Bracing myself to research how to minimize skin damage from radiation, and the side effects of tamoxifen, which is the NEXT next step.

I'm removing my link to Susan G Komen, due to their opposition to Planned Parenthood.

I feel good!

That is all.

Pause

I never intended this blog to be a list of medication side effects. But that's what the cancer experience has been for me, really. The larger-picture issues don't hit every day. But a nose that runs non-stop for 4 months most certainly does.
Etc.  (Which should really be 'et c' since it's an abbreviation of 'et cetera.' But I digress.)

My eyes are screwed up, in keeping with the malfunctioning of all the other soft tissue north of my neck. Cancer center says to wait another 30 days before having an eye exam, waiting for the toxic crap to exit my system a bit more.

Good thing I don't read for a living. Or anything.

Sinus infection

... from hell. Days and days of bright colors coming out of the wrong place and blinding headache.

Dear immune system, you're welcome to come back any time you like.


*sigh*

DONE!

Slept through the whole shebang today, despite junk food delivered upon request and consmed far too early in the day.  No allergic reaction. Hemoglobin is 11.2.

Ran out of gas on the way home, then got a ticket for expired plates. And I don't even care. My poor right arm will now officially enter recovery from pincushionhood. I get a month off, then radiation.

Yay, me.