Chemo Cycle #3

Chemo cycle #3 - After the side effects of this treatment, I'll officially be half way through this stuff.  I'm not going to lie, I dreaded this round.  I've been feeling really good lately and didn't want to get knocked down again.   There isn't a whole lot to report, except we did meet with Dr. Ellis, my oncologist, today.  He said my counts looked really good and I'm taking chemo like a champ.  Thankful for my health, despite this cancer thing.  A lot of people have been sick this season and we've managed to avoid a lot of it!  

Dec. 29th, 2014
Chemo cycle #3

She Understands

A few weeks ago, my cousin, Athena, sent me The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams.  I didn't know exactly why she was sending me this children's book.  Anyway, with all the craziness of cancer and Christmas, I put it in my bookshelf with all the other books I have planned to read and never gotten around to it and vowed to read it later.  Athena and I hadn't spoken in years, but she reached out to me after my cancer diagnosis.

A bit about my cousin Athena.  She is... A-MA-ZING!  She's brilliant, to the point where I'm intimidated talking to her.  In fact, I often have to google words in her email to find out what they mean.  She's independent; after she graduated college she moved all the way to London to pursue her dream of writing and acting.  She's hilarious.  She's drop dead gorgeous with her hourglass figure, bright blue eyes, and long, stunning, fiery-red hair.  She's accomplished, even given a TEDx Talk you can view by clicking here.  If you've got 15 minutes, watch it!  It is incredibly inspiring and worth your time.  She's immensely talented.  She's accomplished more in her professional life than I ever will.  She's feisty and a bit of a smartass ~ she comes by that honestly because it is a highly inheritable family trait.  Basically, she's a badass bitch (and she knows I mean that as the highest compliment possible!)  And, she has some challenges in her life that most of us can't even imagine (she happens to have been born with cerebral palsy).  If you wish to learn more about Athena, check out her website or her blog Never Walked in High Heels.

So in all my whining, cursing and feeling sorry for myself, Athena emailed me to offer comfort.  I've got to say, I was embarrassed.  Here I was complaining about my temporary hair loss and my year full of doctor appointments and discomfort and she has faced far greater struggles on a daily basis.  Although don't tell her that ~ she doesn't want pity.  She is more self sufficient than I will ever be.  If I had half of the balls determination she has...

I have another chemo treatment on Monday.  Honestly, it's been hanging over my head throughout this Christmas season.  I'm dreading it!

Before I go into chemo week, I go through a 'nesting' period, where I try to be really productive and prepare for my down week.  I was cleaning out my office, and stumbled across my pile of books that I have good intentions about, but most likely will never read.  Sitting near the top was The Velveteen Rabbit.  It's so unlike me to stop in the middle of a task to sit down and read, but something pulled me to open the book up and start reading.  The following excerpt really stuck with me:

"You become {Real}. It takes a long time.  That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.  But these things don't matter at all because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to the people who don't understand."

I couldn't have read this at a better time.  Just last night, after the hustle and bustle of Christmas was over, I went to bed and had myself a good cry.  I miss my sister.  I hate cancer.  I fucking hate chemo.  I dread feeling sick.  I'm so over it.  I hesitate to even compare our situations.  My struggles are temporary, her's are permanent.  But, I feel like she is one of the few people who truly gets me at this time in my life.  She knows all too well about being self conscious about her appearance because of something beyond her control.  She knows what it is like to be jealous of people who take seemingly mundane things for granted.  She knows what it feels like to have people stare.  She gets that our health can be both a blessing and a curse.  SHE UNDERSTANDS.

Love you Athena!  Even from London, you knew exactly what I needed and sent it when I needed it!

Just Checking In

Hi all!  Just checking in.  I haven't written in over a week.  Some of you have messaged me to check in, thank you for your concern.  The truth is, I haven't written in awhile because I have been feeling so darn good that I've just been enjoying life.  I've enjoyed spending time with friends and listening to little ones run around a friends kitchen while we finish a craft the kids gave up on in 2 minutes.  I've enjoyed dinner with the girls and some uninterrupted grown up conversations.  I've enjoyed playing Lego's with Mason.  I've enjoyed some quiet time and a few date nights with the hubs.  And, this weekend, I enjoyed being surrounded by the Moss side of the family and hearing the kids sing Happy Birthday to Jesus.  And Mase having a sleepover with his cousin at his Nannie and Poppy Snyder's house.  Oh, the sound of two little boys giggling at 11:00pm when they are supposed to be going to sleep ~ it was music to my ears and honestly brought tears to my eyes.  We are blessed.  And I've always felt blessed, but even more so this Christmas as we celebrate with family.  Life is good.  God is great.

Lots to celebrate!  So thankful for this guy!

Mase is ready to dig into the presents.

My handsome kiddo

Say Cheese!

I've avoided pictures...  Really, who wants a picture when you aren't looking your best?  And let's be honest bald isn't exactly the look I was going for, but it is exactly the look I have.  A few months ago I read this piece called The Mom Stays in the Picture.  The biggest thing I took from this post is that we all take different things from a picture.

Here's an example:

Mom and Mason making cinnamon ornaments.
December 2014

I'm the first to admit, this isn't a great photo... But I love it.  I showed it to my mom and she did the typical response a lot of us are probably guilty of: I look old or fat or fill-in-the-blank here.  When I look at it, I see none of that.  I remember beaming with joy as my mom did a project with Mason that she used to do with me when I was younger.  As I took this picture I soaked in Mason's enthusiasm and the pride he showed in his project.  I listened to my mom and Mason laugh together and create together.  Does it get any better than that?

So today Mason wanted to take a picture and send it to Richard while he was working...  We did that and I cringed at my big old bald head... And then I remembered the article about when kids look at pictures they don't see our imperfections, they see our hearts.  

I pray that one day Mason and I will look back at this and not cringe over my bald head... Instead I hope he sees a growing-up-too-fast four year old who wanted to cuddle with his mama.  

The JV Symptoms - Yikes!

So, I'm well on my way to having completed two chemo cycles.  Only four more to go!

Since I'm about a week out from my infusion the "JV symptoms" have started.  These symptoms aren't as severe as as the nausea and bone aches, but every bit as annoying as a freshman.  I'm talking abdominal cramps, random diarrhea and sporadic nose bleeds.  At the same time.  At 4:30 in the morning.

Let me tell you, I must have been quite a site as call out to Richard over the bathroom fan to come help me because too many of my body parts are leaking at one time.  Try it: holding your head back, to keep blood from dripping on the pillow you are doubled over on, all while you are sitting on the toilet.  Now, with your third hand and your eyes closed (because you can't see because your head is tilted back) go ahead and reach for some toilet paper so you can tend to your nose and your bum.  Oh... then for good measure swallow some of that blood that is dripping down your throat and start to gag once you finally make it over the bathroom sink.  Mercy!  My bathroom looked like a scene from Dexter.

I was so frustrated over that whole incident that I couldn't get back to sleep.  Small victory: I did resist the urge to get up and eat a piece of the chocolate cake that was in the fridge :).  So, while I couldn't sleep, I spent some time talking with God, another victory.  I didn't try to rush through my prayers like I often do, I spent some real quality time with Him.  Thanking him for the many blessings in my life.  Thanking him that it is me and not Mase.  Thanking and praying for Richard.  Praying that the doctors would discover that they had made a mistake and that it wasn't necessary for me to continue on with the next four chemo cycles.  Thinking of the wonderful families that raised Richard and me... And how because of their example we are equipped to raise Mason.

Still blessed.  And thankful for some quiet time with God.  And a husband that tells me he loves me and asks how he can help over the bathroom fan, a bloody mess at 4:30 in the morning.

Heavy Hitter: Chemo Cycle #2

Hi all...  It's chemo week.  Marked by my 'quietness', 3 o'clock in the morning blog postings and my insatiable appetite.

Yesterday was day 4 of my second chemo cycle, my "bad" day and I'm so happy to announce that it was much better than day 4 of my first chemo cycle.  It still wasn't a picnic, but I felt a lot better this time around.  I still napped a lot, dealt with some minor aches and pains, and some slight nausea, but compared to the first time, yesterday was a big improvement.

Okay, so I've vowed to share the good, the bad and the ugly parts of this journey with you...  So, here goes...  I'm writing this because I need to let you know what's in my head.  I'm hesitant to even say it, because well, it just points out to my shallow insecurities and I fear it will sound like I'm fishing for compliments.  I'm not.  I just want to share.  And, quite honestly, I don't even want any feedback.  Yep, I know it's totally bratty to say what I want and then not want to hear your comforting words back, but I have cancer, so cut me a break.

Here it goes:  I don't know what it is, but this cancer thing has me putting on weight like no body's business.  Like, it's insane.  And, sometimes I really beat myself up about it (like 15 minutes ago as I was shoving a stale cinnamon roll into my pie hole at 2:45 in the morning).  And, sometimes I just don't give a damn.  But, if you know me, you know not giving a damn isn't really my style.  I like to obsess.  I like to plan.  I like to challenge myself to be my best.  I'd like to think I have power to control any thing, especially that stupid cinnamon roll from hopping in my mouth, but this time I don't.  My face is getting fuller.  My belly is definitely getting bigger.  And, I'm stuck somewhere between giving a damn (if I didn't care, I wouldn't be up writing a blog about it) and not.

I'm not sure what this crazy appetite/weight gain is about.  But, here are a few thoughts... Some legitimate and some are probably just me rationalizing:

1. Perhaps it's the steroids I have to take to make sure my body can tolerate the chemo.  Increased appetite is a known side effect.  I'd like to convince myself all this eating/weight gain is a placebo effect, but after some careful evaluation, over a midnight bowl of Reese's Puffs, I've come to the conclusion it's a real side effect and and not an imagined one.
2. In my house, food is comfort.  Thanks for passing this on to me, Mom!  So, when we don't feel good, we eat.  And when we celebrate, we eat.  And when we are bored/angry/happy/breathing we eat.  It's how we nurture each other, and also how we nurture ourselves.  Maybe I'm gaining weight because I'm feeding my soul.  
3. Exercise is... well, almost nonexistent.  I used to really like to walk, run, etc.  Now, it all seems like a lot of work.  On occasion, I will hop on the elliptical, but now my 'workouts' are what used to be my warm-up.  
4. Did you know your taste buds change during chemo?  True story!  Food actually tastes different, and not exactly in a good way.  Maybe I just keep stuffing it in my mouth in hopes that something will taste 'normal.'  Oh, how I wish things were back to normal.
5. The nausea... You would think that would make you want to quit eating, right?  Wrong!  It makes me just want to graze until it goes away... And the thing is, it doesn't really go away for days on end!  Yikes!  

I feel like I'm in emotional eating survival mode a bit.  And, that's okay.  So, here's the plan:  On days when I need comfort, then I will seek it out anyway I can... Through Natalie's English toffee, scalloped potatoes, stale cinnamon rolls, and any other carb I can shove into my mouth.  And, on days when I can do better, I will.  I'm not giving up, just giving in to where I stand this moment.  

Fill 'Er Up... And Round #2

Today, I had my first expansion appointment.  Yay for more natural looking boobs!  While I was nervous, I've got to say the expansion was a cake walk, so far.  I was told that I may experience some tightness and soreness this evening and tomorrow, but I'm feeling like a badass today, so I'm not too worried about it.  I just hope that soreness moves on before the chemo symptoms are in full swing.

DCP, my plastic surgeon, walked in made some small talk and got to business.  He took a stud finder type tool to identify where the ports on my expanders are located.  Then, he numbed me up and I could barely feel the needle in my right breast, but felt a bit more of a pinch in my left breast.  Then, he took a syringe and filled each breast with 60cc's.  It was a piece of cake.  And I could immediately see a difference.  Yay!  My breast expansion has been pretty much been put on the back burner, my choice.  It just doesn't seem as important to me and since my chemo will slow down my exchange surgery, I am taking my sweet time.  But, I must admit, seeing a bit more of a breast mound made me feel good, closer to my normal.  

He couldn't nail down the plan exactly, as I get to pick how big I want to go, but he anticipated that I will need 4-5 more fill appointments and then will be able to do my exchange 6-8 weeks after my last chemo infusion.  I will still continue with the Herceptin infusions for a year, but he will do the exchange once my 6 chemo treatments are complete.  Looks like by May I will be swim suit shopping... And I'm hopeful that my swim suit options will be a little more generous since I can be a little less worried about the support factor.  

Next, we headed over to the Hulston Cancer Center for my chemo infusion.  While I dread chemo's side effects that will hit Saturday afternoon and last for 3-5 days, I found myself looking forward to some alone time with Richard.  Again, chemo infusion day is almost relaxing.  Not horrible.  And, I don't feel nearly as self conscious with my hair issues if I'm in a doctors office.  Another win.  Always a silver lining.  Feeling much more normal today than I did yesterday...  God bless everyone!

Frustrated

Um... So this post might seem shallow, and I'm okay with that.  Tomorrow I have my second chemo session and my sweet mother-in-law, Val, is coming up to keep Mase.  Richard thought it would be great for us to sneak away for a date night.  It's been awhile since we've gotten a date night so I was looking forward to it all week.  Last night, I even went to bed thinking about what I would wear, racking my brain on what I had to feel special and pretty in.  I picked some skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, a cream colored leather jacket and some black boots.  I took a shower and put on some fancy lacy panties, just like the old days and took extra time to do my make-up carefully.  I really want to look pretty, both for myself and for my husband that deserves a pretty normal looking wife.

And now... I'm at a hair loss.  I'm frustrated to the point of tears.  I tried my wig on and it doesn't look right.  No matter what I do, it doesn't look right at all.  And, to be honest, even if it did look right, I don't think I would wear it.  It's itchy and hot.  And I think I'm more self conscious about wearing a wig than I am about my bald.  I tried on head scarves and those don't really look right either.  My beanies just don't look good with my outfit, and while great for outdoors, let's be honest, they don't exactly blend in when sitting inside a nice steak house.  And then there is my bald.  Which isn't horrible, but it's starting to get patchy.  I don't feel like I can freaking win.  I'm pretty sure this is the first time sad tears have fallen in a long time, which is saying a lot since the last two months have been a clusterfuck challenge.

It feels ridiculously stupid for crying over something as shallow as my hair.  I have plenty to cry about and you would think hair would be the least of my worries.  But it's not.  On days I don't care what I look like, which honestly is most days, I'm cool with my whatever, but tonight, I just want it to be like old times ~ I just want my long, blond hair back that I could straighten and toss around.

Is it too late to put on my comfy panties and my sweat pants and settle in with a bag of chips and a tub of french onion dip?

UPDATE:  After a good cry to my sweet mother-in-law and again on the way to the restaurant, we really enjoyed our date night.  I wore my hat inside the restaurant and once we were seated I took it off.  I was a little self conscious when a boy, around 8 or 9, whispered to his mom when he saw me and they both looked up at me.  His mom

must have explained something about me being sick and not to stare, but occasionally I would catch him looking at me.  I so badly wanted to make a funny face at him and answer the questions I could see swirling in his head.  I wanted to comfort him.  I was self conscious because I wanted him to be comfortable, not as much for my sake.

After dinner, we stopped by a book store where I picked up a few coffees for the trip home.  As I am leaving, a woman complimented me on my hair.  Wow, that caught me off guard.  I probably hesitated a bit and then politely said thank you and was prepared to keep walking.  She took the brave step of asking me if I was a cancer patient.  That was a huge risk, and it meant so much to me that she took that risk.  I shared with her that I was and that her compliment meant so much to me, as I was struggling a bit with my hair since it was my first night out since I started losing my hair.  She shared with me that she was a 14 year breast cancer survivor.  Her taking the risk and the time meant the world to me.  Made me feel less alone.  There are lots of people walking around that know exactly what I'm going through.  At times, I feel like the only one, but the truth is, I probably have a lot of cancer sisters around me even without even knowing it.

Abundantly Blessed

For the most part, it's been a good week.  I'm finally getting over a cold, which I likely got while my immune system was down.  Thankful I am starting to feel better and also that I am hopeful I will be well for my next treatment, which will be this coming Thursday.  

Ugh!  I have a love/hate relationship with my treatments.  I dread it.  I've found my good days getting clouded by the dread of knowing what's to come.  I know next weekend I will be very sick, very achy and not able to do much of anything.  I know my only goal next Saturday, Sunday and Monday will be to make it through the day.  It almost seems sinful to waste a good day, such as today, with worrying about the future.  But, the worry manages to creep in.  

I also love the fact that after my next treatment, I will be 1/3 the way through.  And by New Year's I will be half way finished with my sentence treatment.  I'm hoping to have a cute, spunky hair style by summer.  I can do this!  It's just a season, right?  Come to think of it, New Year's day I will likely feel the same way some of you may feel on New Year's Day.  Hungover.  I guess I can take comfort in knowing my chemo hangover isn't of my own doing.  

Okay, back to being abundantly blessed.  I've been working on Christmas cards, and as I write each one, I am reminded of why I am abundantly blessed.  It isn't at all the things around me, it is the people around me.  It's my boss and department I work for that has been beyond supportive of me.  It's my friend Joni in Marshfield who watches Mase when I have appointments and showers him with love.  It's my friends Sam and Tara who I haven't seen in nearly a year and continue to text me at those times I need the support.  Their texts of encouragement always seem to come just when I need it.  Or my best friend from high school Sarah, who always makes me smile and we can pick up a conversation so easily just like we did in high school.  Or my mom and dad, who have been beyond supportive of me ~ not just with this cancer ordeal, but my entire life, whether I deserved their support or not.  And my sister.  Especially my sister.  Today she told me "it's okay to tell me when you have bad days.  You don't need to protect me from those.  I want to be there for you."  She said she can tell when I have a bad day because I won't answer my phone.  She's right.  She knows me all too well.  I miss her something awful!  

And then there is my little family.  I look at Mase and I just want to cry ~ but in a good way.  I love the little guy he is becoming.  He has a heart of gold!  I am so thankful that he's not old enough to be embarrassed of me and my bald head.  That would break my heart.  Instead, he helps me pick out my hat and headscarves, and I almost always go with whatever he picks.  If only time would slow down.  That kid has my heart.  I love him so much that it makes my heart ache, again in a good way.  And then there is my husband.  Who continues to shave his head since I am losing my hair.  Who still wakes up in the middle of the night to ask me if I need anything.  Who loves me unconditionally.  And supports me and encourages me to be me...  I am humbled that I get to be married to such an amazing man and that Mason has such an awesome example of a man to look up to.  I love both of them so much it's quite frankly hard to even put into words...  

Even though I have this cancer thing going on, I still feel like the absolute luckiest girl in the world. 

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

This week I have ventured out a few times.  Sometimes I'll wear a hat, sometimes I've rocked the bald, and sometimes I have worn a head scarf.  I thought I was strong enough to rock the bald, but now I am not so sure. Maybe it's all in my head, but I've noticed people look at me differently than they did when I had hair.  Men will glance at me and quickly dart their eyes away.  Women often look at me and give me the ever so polite head tilt and a slight smile, as if to take pity on me.  Children stare and sometimes whisper to their parent about the lady with a bald head.  I can't say I blame them.  I'm sure I would have done the exact same thing when I was a child. Kids are curious and I love that!

I especially felt self conscious as I was trolling through Target and saw a group of women close to my age laughing it up and flipping their long, blond, straight hair all around.  It made me sad and self conscious.  I once was confidence in my appearance and that just simply isn't the case anymore.  And perhaps there is a lesson in all of that, that appearance isn't everything, but let's be honest: it's something.  

I'm very open about my cancer.  I blog about it and post my ramblings on Facebook.  The thing about losing your hair, you can't hide it.  It feels so vulnerable.  And even though I am an over-sharer, I would like to have the option of when I share and what I share.  Looking at me, a stranger could probably not even tell I had a mastectomy.  My breasts will soon get pumped full of saline as I go in for my expansions.  But my hair, or lack of, is one of the first things people notice and it isn't near as easy to hide.  I feel like I have a 'cancer' bumper sticker on my big, bare forehead.  Some days, I'm okay with that, but some days I just want to blend in.  So, while I can put up a brave, happy-go-lucky face on my blog, going out in public is a lot more difficult for me now.  I'm constantly looking around judging peoples reactions.  I totally acknowledge it's very ego-centric and reminiscent of junior high school.    

I do have my sassy red wig.  But to be honest, when I put it on I feel like a giant faker.  And it's itchy.  And I would constantly worry if it is on my head right.  It's not the real me, and I pride myself on being real and authentic.  The other three options of hat, head scarf, or bald just make me look like a cancer patient.  And, I suppose that is okay because I am a cancer patient.  But even this over-sharer wishes I had a bit more control over my over-shearing get it, share - shear?! HA!.

Yesterday, on Thanksgiving, my hair officially started to fall out.  I would take a little pinch of my short, dark hair and like 20 little hairs would come out.  Richard shaved my head even shorter, in hopes of lessening the patchy baldness.  Even though he acted like it was no big deal, I can't imagine that was much fun for him.  Even though I shaved my head nearly two weeks ago, it's still a shock to me.  Just makes it all so real.  Honestly, on one hand I'm glad it started falling out.  I've been dreading it.  And, in my small little mind, it shows me that the chemo is working.  If it is destroying my hair growth, perhaps it is also destroying any rogue cancer cells in my body.

It's just hair.  It was hair today and will be gone tomorrow.  But, it will grow back.  Small price to pay for reducing my cancer reoccurrence rate, I suppose.  

Giving Thanks

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  To think about what a tough month it has been you would think it would be difficult to find thankfulness in my cancer diagnosis.  No, I'm not thankful for cancer.  But, I am thankful for some of the things my cancer diagnosis has shown me:

1. My husband will love and support me through thick and thin.  He has been A-MAZ-ING though out all the surgeries and treatments.  He's never gotten upset me with me and has been 100% supportive every step of the way.  I know it hasn't been easy on him.  It's got to be tough to see your wife go through the things I've been through, all while holding down 'the fort' and working.  He knows when to make me laugh, and when to allow me to cry.  So grateful for him!
2. My family pulls together.  As we all get older and start our own families, it's easy to get busy and not make time for each other.  I'm perhaps guilty of this more than anyone.  But, it's been awesome to see my family pull together to support me thought this journey.  
3. My in-laws are the bomb!  Again, so supportive of our little Moss family as we battle this thing together.  
4. My friends are top notch.  Confirmation that God puts us where we are supposed to be.  A year ago, we had just moved to Lake Ozark and barely knew anyone.  In fact, we were devastated we were moving away from every thing and every one we were familiar with.  You can read about that story here in the post "Where's Our Faith?".  No doubt God knew what we would need - and as always He provided.  Our friends have carried us through the past several months through support and encouragement.  It's humbling.  I don't deserve the caliber of friends I have, but I'll take it!  Love you ladies more than I will ever be able to tell or show you!
5. Life is precious.  Do not take tomorrow for granted.  I'm lucky enough that my cancer is treatable.  Not everyone is so fortunate.  Each day really is a gift.  I know it sounds cliche, but it's the truth.
6. Humor and faith are the best medicine.  Speaking of medicine, modern medicine is pretty fascinating/mind-blowing, too.  

Wishing everyone a great Thanksgiving!  I know we will spend it being thankful and celebrating life! Be blessed everyone!  

Pink is the New Black

Okay, I just feel the need to warn you that this post may contain a bit of over-sharing.  But, lucky for you I am drawing the line at showing disgusting pictures of myself for now, because trust me, I have them.  I've always been an over-sharer.  I don't typically get embarrassed easily and I wouldn't consider myself very modest.  What little modesty I did have totally went out the window after 3 beers with the whole breast cancer thing.

You probably think "Pink is the New Black" is about all the pink breast cancer goodies I have gotten along the way.  While I am incredibly appreciative of those gifts, you'd be wrong.  Today we are going talk about...  Ready for this?  Nipples.  Go ahead and say it.  Nipples.  Did you smile?  It's okay, it's one of Mason's favorite words, too.

I've probably shown my boobs more legitimate times in the past 3 months than I did during my 4 years of college.  I'm flat out (flat, get it?) completely comfortable with doctors or really anyone else looking and touching my breasts now.  Not only have I been desensitized to their exposure socially and mentally, but since they are nearly completely numb I don't even have the physical sensation that I am being exposed.  For example, the other day I was eating a cookie my friend Brooke brought over and I look down and notice a big piece had fallen on my boob.  My first thought was "Yay, more cookie for me!" but my second thought was that it was strange to find a piece of cookie there and have been clueless.  How long had it been there?  Could anyone else see it?  So, I ate my new found treasure and went on my way...

I had a nipple sparing mastectomy, meaning I got to keep my nipples.  Since my mastectomy was done with prophylactic intentions, I was willing to take the 1% risk increase of cancer to keep my nipples.  Once I received my breast cancer diagnosis, I asked my surgeon if he thought I should have my nipples removed during future surgery and he said it wasn't at all medically necessary.  For women who do choose to keep their nipples, I believe they actually take a small shaving of the internal nipple tissue during the mastectomy to test for any gnarly cells just to be safe.  For women who do have their nipples taken during the mastectomy, there are several reconstruction options: they can actually grow a nipple, like Frankenstein of something, or women often opt for tattoo options of either a realistic looking nipple, or something artistic like tassels.

Okay, I'll get to the over-sharing part because I know that is the only reason you have spent the last 2 minutes reading about nipples:  Today I noticed my nipples were completely pink again, opposed to the black they had been for the past 6 weeks.  It was scary.  Remember the story where they scared Mason?  If not you can read it by clicking here.  Basically, your nipples (not mine anymore) have a rich supply of blood and nerves fed to them, that is why they are so sensitive.  So much tissue is removed during the mastectomy that it really reduces the blood supply to your nipples and necrosis (when you skin dies) often occurs.  It didn't hurt, it just turned into basically a giant scab.  Well, recently the scab has fallen off to reveal beautiful, pink nipples!  This bit of normalcy was very welcome after a month that has been anything but normal.

Hot Mess

You know my pretty, positive, uplifting posts?  Warning: This isn't one of them.  And that's okay.  I started this blog as a way to document my journey and to share with others in hopes that someone else would find comfort in my sharing of this BRCA stuff.  When I started it, little did I know the gigantic turns my story would take.  But, my dream for this little project is that someone finds my story and can relate to my journey.  I hope when they find BRCA and Blessings they can find a lot of truth and a little humor.  So, I've said before, I'm committed to sharing it all, no matter how ugly.

Today, boys and girls, we are going to discuss chemo's side effects.  Again, I don't share this post to seek sympathy, but in hopes of giving someone the real deal on my experience.  I'm not going to sugar coat it, but I'm also not going to make it sound worse than it is.  I have cancer, I'm not dying (oddly I feel confident saying that statement, at least for now).  

Day 0:  We'll say this is the day before my infusion.  On this day, I'm prescribed a steroid to take twice a day.  A good patient would know why they are taking what medicines, but I am taking so many, quite honestly I can't keep all their specifics straight (I do have the days and dose down, so I'm not a total idiot).  I want to say the steroid is used to help my body not reject the chemo drugs I get during my infusion, a sort of primer perhaps.  The side effects of the steroids are an increased appetite and perhaps a boost of energy.  I definitely had an increased appetite, but I'm not sure if that was legit or more of a psychosomatic effect.  I mean, when someone tells you you will be hungry, maybe we allow ourselves 'permission' to behave in that way.  

Day 1:  Infusion day.  If you missed my post on infusion day, click here.  Physically, infusion day is no biggie, just a few needle pokes for blood work, a Pulp Fiction sized needle poke to access my port and a lot of sitting around.  Along with trips to the bathroom because of all the fluids you receive during treatment.  The chemo drugs I am taking are called Taxotere, Carboplatin and Herceptin.  I don't know the doses of these drugs but I believe they are based off of my weight.  I asked the nurse where on the chemo tier my drugs fell and she said I was receiving a moderate chemo, as far as side effects go.  

Also, during the infusion you are given several other drugs through your port, all aimed at helping your body not reject the chemotherapy.  Benadryl was one, but I believe I also got some additional steroids, some fluid, and a shot of something else.  Interesting fact: one drug I took at the beginning of my infusion I could instantly taste in my mouth.  Sort of reminded me of the time in high school I took a shot of Everclear (shout out to my high school buddy Sarah and my sister)!  Gosh, you only do that once, although it appears I will be doing that 5 more times as I finish up my 6 cycles of chemo.  

Day 2:  You'd think I'd feel yucky on day 2, but you'd be wrong.  Day 2 was a good day.  I guess chemo is a slow poison, so it takes awhile to get to work.  My nurse practitioner explained it to me like this: chemo is an avalanche.  It wipes everything out that is in it's way.  It wipes out the aggressive cancer cells that could be floating around, and it also wipes out any other fast growing cells in your body, hence the hair loss, digestive changes, and some of the other chemo side effects.  Chemo affects all fast growing cells, but it isn't exactly able to target just the bad cells.  It basically busts up the entire party, instead of just removing the few obnoxious drunks.  

On day two, I have to go back to the hospital exactly 24 hours after my infusion to receive a shot called Neulasta.  This shot basically goes in and revives any survivors of the avalanche.  The nurse who gave me the shot mentioned something about it stirs up something in your bone marrow (which means extreme body aches starting Day 3) and helps you produce the white blood cells you lost from your infusion.  I also continue to take steroids on day 2, along with anti nausea medicine, a Claritan (I forget why) and start taking an Aleve every 8 hours.  Really, there are no side effects present on Day 2.  

Day 3:  Just when you think you may come out of the treatment unscathed, Day 3 in the afternoon is when I notice I'm starting to feel a little off.  The aches start to set in.  I really didn't have a lot of nausea at this point, at least nothing like they show in the movies, but I am encouraged to take the 2 different nausea medicines they give me prophylactically.  I also continue to take Aleve every 8 hours (or more honestly every 6 hours because those whole warning labels on those packages are really just suggestions, right?  Remember, this blog isn't about what you should do, I'm just telling you what I do).  Another side effect I remembered on Day 3 is this is when the extreme night sweats started.  We are talking I wake up and my pillow is wet, my pajamas are wet and the bed is wet.  I had chills, but I'm not sure if those were legitimately the chills or if I was cold because I was sweating so much.  I'm writing this post at 4:17am on Day 8 and I have gotten up at 3:30am every morning since Day 3.  So I'm not sure how, but chemo definitely affects your sleep pattern as well.  

Day 4:  BOOM!  This is the chemo day you see in the movies.  I had just slight nausea but the body aches are in full force.  And we are talking an body ache like I've never experienced before.  Everything hurts.  If I had hair, I know that would have even hurt.  This day is when I truly felt like a Survivor, this chemo bitch is serious!  I know they say Survivor referring to cancer, but I also think that term is very appropriate for Day 4 of chemo.  On this day, I took a total of 4 naps all between the time I woke up and the time I went to bed at 7 pm.  The level of exhaustion is indescribable.  I was too tired to watch tv or check Facebook.  I literally just laid in a dark room with my head under the covers all day.  The night sweats/chills continue.  

Day 5:  For me, I started to see some progress the afternoon of Day 5.  I didn't feel great by any means, but I didn't feel like I wasn't going to make it.  I still had night sweats/chills but they seem to be getting less frequent and less intense.  The body aches are still present, but easing up a bit.  The exhaustion level is still extremely high, but not to the debilitating point it was on Day 4.  On day 5 I experienced a bit more nausea than before, but perhaps I got a little over confident and eased up on the nausea meds thinking I was out of the woods.  Won't make that mistake again.  

Day 6:  Day 6 is again a day of improving.  In fact, I felt well enough to do a little shopping with mom and pick Mason up from preschool.  I did have some stomach cramping and some slight diarrhea on this day, but perhaps it was due to the poop cocktail (Miralax and apple juice) I had the day before.  I didn't feel constipated, but I went several days without dropping the kids off at the pool, so I wanted to make sure I didn't get constipated.  I do know one of the side effects of one type of chemo is diarrhea and another chemo has a side effect of constipation.  So, I'm not sure what caused this little hiccup.  

I also developed a canker sore in my mouth and thrush.  I know, I'm a hot mess!  Thrush is basically a yeast infection in your mouth.  Thrush and mouth sores are a very common side effect.  Our mouths are dirty and eating can create a bit of trauma in your mouth.  Most people can get a minor scrape in their mouth and your body automatically fights any minute infection that develops (aren't our bodies amazing?!).  My body cannot battle infection right now, which is why there is an overgrowth of yeast and mouth sores.  I've been trying to do a baking soda/salt mouth rinse a few times a day to help avoid these symptoms, but obviously I wasn't doing it enough.  I've since started another medication to help with the thrush.  

Day 7:  Aside from the thrush, some very mild nausea and just a bit of tiredness, I certainly feel like I'm on the mend and experienced the worst part of the chemo cycle.  I'd say I am running on 80% and considering where I came from, that is truly a gift!  I did have a random nose bleed today, but luckily it was stopped within 3 minutes and didn't hurt at all.  Chemo dries up your mucus membranes and dries your skin out terribly bad, so I think that was the reason for the nose bleed.  

Okay, enough of class for today.  Wishing that everyone who reads this blog lives today to the fullest.  Be grateful for your health.  Take advantage of being healthy enough to play with your kids or love on your spouse.  

  

Bald Bruci

Travis and Dr. Natalie Bruce.  We love you guys!

This is a picture of our friends Natalie and Travis Bruce (who we affectionately call the Bruci).  I met Natalie about 8 years ago when we both worked at Missouri Southern State University.  We've packed in a lot of amazing/life changing conversations over the years... Usually over a walk, mint Oreos or a chili cheese dog or three: my divorce, my meeting Richard, her adjusting to marriage, my marriage, relocations, pregnancies, births, her father passing away, postpartum depression, Lowe's stuff, more relocations, God talks, dirty jokes, Natalie earning her doctorate, another pregnancy (they are expecting another Baby Bruci in late winter), and now my cancer journey.

The thing about the Bruci, they are there no matter what.  I remember we had a big snow years ago and Richard was away on a business trip.  I heard some weird noise outside of my house at night and I look out the window and see Travis shoveling my drive at 9pm because he knew there was no way I would be able to move my car without the snow removal.  I can count several occasions when I would call Natalie with an emergency (like a chili cheese dog craving) and all of a sudden she would show up at my door willing to help.  These are solid people!

Well, when I shared the start of this journey with Natalie, she responded exactly how I knew she would: with compassion and humor (and I'm pretty sure she brought over mint Oreos).  She wasn't afraid to ask me questions and was completely supportive of my decisions.  When I found the lump in my breast, she was the first person I called over to come feel it, because I knew she would tell me if I were crazy... And I knew I could ask her to feel my boob and she wouldn't think twice about it.  When I called to tell her of the cancer diagnosis, I could hear that her breath was taken away.  She's the type of friend that hurts when you hurt.  She also casually said that if I had to shave my head, she would too.  I didn't think much of it initially, as we were very hopeful that other treatment options would be used other than chemo.  

Fast forward to last Saturday when I suddenly decided to go through with getting my head shaved.  Richard had thought about shaving his head and drove to the salon to surprise me.  I walk in the salon and after I see Richard, I look over and see Travis sitting in Stepheny's chair with a big grin on his face and a big shine on his head.  Now, I know my hair will grow back... Travis, I hope for your sake, your hair grows back, too.

I gave Natalie an 'out' as I know she casually said that she would shave her head weeks ago.  I didn't expect her to follow through, I mean who would actually shave their head for a friend?  Actually, come to think of it, I absolutely expected her to follow through with that promise, because that is who Natalie is.  She puts people first.  Always.  I'm not sure I have ever met a more compassionate person ~ and if you follow my blog, you know that my life is bursting at the seams with compassionate people.  

It's been a crazy eight years Bruci!  Looking forward to many, many more!  In the future, let's hope the only bald heads we see is Baby Bruci's... And maybe Travis's if his hair doesn't grow back!  

The Cut: Take Two. Rockin' the Bald

After chemo on Thursday and a follow-up shot on Friday, I knew my good hair days were numbered.  Generally, they tell you that your hair will start to come out in massive clumps between days 10-14.  I was feeling strong and felt ready to take the plunge.  So, I called up my good friend Brittany and made an appointment to get my head shaved on Saturday afternoon.

Some women choose to let their hair fall out on their own.  But, I'm a bit of a control freak, so that just isn't my style.  I've read that it can be quite traumatic to see clumps of hair on your pillow, in the shower, or on your hair brush.  I've heard from a few Survivors that your hair falling out actually hurts; that your head gets extremely sensitive.  And, I wanted to do the deed on my terms, when I felt strong and with Mason present so he could see mommy was just getting a silly new hair cut.

Richard agreed to meet Mason, my mom, and I at Head Case hair salon.  To my surprise, he walked out and greeted me with a big, bald head!  He knew I would need the support and didn't want me to have to go at it alone, so he showed up a bit early and had Brittany shave his head before I got there.  I was so touched... And come to think of it, I should have seen it coming.  Richard and I always call our little family of three Team Moss.  One team, one dream!  That's just who he is: we're in this together, no matter what!  The good, the bad and the ugly (I still haven't figured out which of those three categories Richard's bald head fits into yet).

I walked into the salon, gave Brittany a big hug and started to make my way over to her chair.  There wasn't a lot of time to second guess things ~ I was ready to do this!  I felt really strong, up until I looked over at my mom and saw big tears welling up in her eyes.  I'm not sure what she was thinking: perhaps pride that I was handling this so strongly; or perhaps she was just sad I was having to go through this.  Either way, I quickly wiped away my tears and made my way over Brittany's chair.  Brittany asked if I was ready and I gave her a simple nod.  On the outside I smiled my way through the shave.  On the inside, I was in shock that this was actually happening: I have cancer.  I have f#@$%&* cancer!  THIS is happening and it's happening right now!  Deep breath.  I shut my eyes and feel the clippers against my head.  It feels cool, as my scalp has never had so much room to breathe before.

I distract myself by talking to my mom, Richard and Mase.  Mase is dancing around the shop and thinks my hair looks silly.  Eventually, Brittany turns the chair and I catch a glimpse of my head in the mirror.  While it was a bit of a shock, I have to admit, it wasn't as bad as I expected.  I was still me, just with a shaved head.  Did I love it?  No, but I didn't hate it!  I looked at myself in the mirror and I remember telling myself "You can do this!"  I find myself saying that phrase to myself a lot these days...

I absolutely love Mase's face in this picture!  Sweet kid has taken all this in stride!
So blessed to be his mommy!  

My handsome little family.  

Rockin' the bald!  Thankful for a few other ladies I know who encouraged me to rock the bald.  Not sure I would have been able to do it on my own without the encouragement of a few bald beauties I know!  

Day 4: A Roller Coaster of Ramblings

Hi all!  I've wanted to keep up and have thought of tons of things to write about,  but honestly, I just haven't had the energy.  This cancer roller coaster is not for the faint at heart.  Maybe there's a common denominator (that common denominator is me and my big ol' bald head ~ more on that later) in a lot of my posts, the highs and lows of this journey are ever twisting.  To the point of nausea.

Speaking of nausea, I'm writing this at 2:40 am because I am up with achy joints, and you guessed it, the dreaded nausea which supposedly and ironically can be treated with joints.  See what I did there? :).  In truth, the nausea hasn't been overwhelmingly bad until now.  In fact, I have a couple of girl friends who seem to have pregnancy nausea that is way worse than what I'm experiencing.  Also on the topic of nausea, I just laid in bed a fucking hour trying to convince myself I wasn't nauseous, all because I was actually too tired to get up and take a Compazine or Zophran.  Yes, the nausea is such a dreaded side effect that they actually give you two drugs to combat the side effects.

That reminds me, there was clearly a distinct marijuana smell from a patient at my chemo appointment last Thursday.  Richard and I decided that it was probably one of the few doctor offices where such an odor wouldn't be considered downright offensive.  Every one is trying to make their way through this, no matter what.  And they sure as heck aren't going to face any judgement from me.  I just wished I liked pot.  The smell makes me sick.  You know the one I'm talking about...  Okay, I've got to stop writing about pot because those strong, thin muscles that are attached to your tongue are starting to tighten as I think about it.  {Gag}.

Some of you are wondering what 'this' feels like.  Here's a little text I sent out to a few of my close friends tonight:  "It's been a rough day.  I'm not in pain just achy, extremely tired and uncomfy.  I am eating and have managed to take 4 naps and a bath.  More than anything my heart is happy.  My body is sick, but a happy heart and a solid, peaceful mind is a great thing!  Still blessed.  Thanks for checking in."

Okay, now onto my roller coaster of ramblings... I've actually been keeping a short list in my phone of things I want to write about when I have the energy.

• The first one was how I laid in bed an hour trying to decide if I was truly nauseated or if it were all in my head.  
• Today was the first snow of the season and seeing Mason's face light up as the big flakes fell was damn near magical.  I will say, even though I don't feel well, there are worse things than just laying in bed, listening to your mom and little family scurry around the house and watching it snow.  
• So thankful for the time I've had with my family through all of this.  Richard has been with me every step of the way.  And so has my mom.  We probably laid in bed together for hours today.  There wasn't even a lot of talking, just a lot of hand holding and her asking me if she can get me anything to eat or drink.  For those who know mom, you know how she loves to make people feel better with food.  It probably breaks her heart that she just wants to cook me something homemade and all I want are these delicious, store bought, scalloped potatoes.  My mom isn't the 'store bought' kind of lady.  She labors in the kitchen and cooks with her whole heart.  *Mom, don't worry, I know you threw that cardboard box of potatoes in the oven with all your heart too.*  
• Damn, it's cold without hair.  Like all the time.  I literally spent my day curled up in bed, with a hat on (and an eye patch Mason thought I should wear).  To my dad, my brother-in-law Jack, Brian Blackford, and a few other guys I know, my apologies for making fun of your cold, bare, bald heads.  Just smile slightly and know that karma is a bitch and I am now eating my words!  
• Speaking of eating, I am so exhausted lately that I told my mom "even chewing seems like a lot of work."  

Battle #1

Hey all!  I write this as I sit in a comfy recliner getting poison medicine pumped through my veins.  Yesterday, I felt like a 'real' cancer patient was I started my lengthy medicine regime that I have in addition to my chemo drugs that are put through my port.  Richard reminds me I've been a cancer patient for nearly a month now, but truth be told, I haven't always felt like one.  For the most part I've felt well.  I had some pain and fatigue after the surgeries, so I did consider myself recovering from those, I didn't attribute that stuff to the cancer.  Now the cancer treatment starts.

This morning I started Battle #1.  I'm calling each treatment a battle, because I know I will win the war.  And I will conquer the battles, they just may rough me up a little.  They told me that today's treatment will last 7-8 hours, as they give your your medicines very slowly and watch you for reactions.  This morning they also did my chemo education.  Fun times!  Seriously, very informative, and honestly a little scary.  It almost scared the shit out of me.  Pun intended.  Apparently one chemo I have has a high rate of diarrhea for a few days and the other chemo has a high rate of vomiting.  Apparently, your body doesn't like poison chemo.  I'm guessing I'll feel like I did during college after a drinking binge.  So, nothing I can't handle, right?  Although, come to think about it, college was a long time ago and I bet I don't recover nearly as fast.  And, I probably won't have as many cool stories...  Did I ever tell you guys the time I nearly got arrested in my sexy devil costume?  I digress...

Okay, for all of you who brought care packages and gifts, sent messages of encouragement and prayer, a HUGE thank you!  I've got to say, aside from a quick blood draw and a Pulp Fiction like needle going into my port (that might be an exaggeration, but I assure you it felt like a huge needle!) today has been a piece of cake.  And they have wi-fi.  And comfy chairs.  And I plan on taking a nap.  No need to feel sorry for me... Goodness, I know I will eat these words later, but this almost feels like vacation.

Speaking of cake, I plan on eating my way through chemo, which probably isn't a great plan, as they said I will actually be one of the lucky ones who gain weight during chemo.  But, you do what you've got to do, right?!  They actually encourage you to eat your way through, so it's really like I'm following doctor's orders.

Speaking of eating, this is a picture of Richard last week before my PET scan.  He decided that he was done starving with me when they tell me I can't eat for 8-12 hours.  Sweet guy, I know he stuck it out with me as long as possible.  This is Richard getting ready to scarf down a Chik-Fil-A sandwich right in front of me.  As my stomach feels like it is eating itself.  Good thing he is cute, huh?!

Richard being the 'supportive' husband ~ eating in front of me while I haven't had anything to eat in over 12  hours.

I'll try to check in with everyone in a few days.  They've warned me that days 3-5 will be the worse, but there will be a roller coaster of symptoms, as some symptoms hit at different times during my chemo cycle.

Feeling more blessed than ever.  I know this is the 'easy' day, but we are in good spirits.  Much love everyone!

My PET Scan

Last week, my oncologist Dr. Ellis ordered a PET scan.  He didn't think there was a reason to be concerned, but since my cancer popped up so fast, he just wanted rule out there the nasty little monster was just contained in my breast.

A PET scan is where they inject some sort of radioactive material into your veins and then take some pictures.  It was explained to me that the radioactive material will 'gather' at any tumors, thus highlighting any problem areas.

Upon checking in, a nurse quickly greeted me and took me back to start an IV.  My veins are basically pros at IV's and I barely even get nervous at the thought of them any more, although I still look away before and during the poke.

Once the IV was in place, a nice man (with tattoos peaking out underneath his lab coat ~ I like him already!) came and took me back to a quiet room.  He instructed me to sit back and relax, asked some medical history questions, and then said he would be right back with the mix.  He left my room and walked straight across the hall to a door that required both the scan of some clearance card and a pin number to enter.  It had a sign on it that looked like this:

When he came back in, he had a small little metal box to transport 'the goods'.  He opened the box and I shit you not he took out a metal looking syringe.  I held back my comments as must as possible but I finally blurted out:  "You mean you have to have a bright yellow sign on the door, a card and password to enter that little room, a metal transport box and a metal syringe to protect yourself and you are getting ready to inject me with it?!"  He sort of chuckled and said "yeah, I guess so."  I could feel the room temperature fluid go in my arm and if felt slightly cold.  Also, as soon as it was injected, I got a mild rubbing alcohol taste in my mouth.  No biggie.  

Here's the best part:  Once I was radiated, he turned the lights down, spread a couple of warm blankets over me (yes, sort of like they do at the spa) and told me I needed to lay still for about 45 minutes.  I didn't sleep well the night before, so I was game.  Plus, having a 4 year old, I never get 45 minutes of quiet time!  I closed my eyes and tried to relax.  After what seemed like 20 minutes, I opened my eyes to check the clock again.  It had been a whopping 4 minutes!  Not to worry, my valium was about to kick in, so off to dream land I went.  

After 45 minutes, a nurse came and got me and took me back to the PET scan room.  I laid on this skinny table that slid back in forth through a imagining tube.  I have read horror stories of people freaking out in MRI machines, but lucky for me, and thanks to the valium, my tube was only about 4 feet long, so I never felt 'trapped.'   

This morning, I got the call - The PET scan came back negative!  Whoo Hoo!  They said there was some 'gathering' around my axillary node, but the doctor attributed that to my axillary node dissection and not to cancer... Not sure how they can distinguish the two (I plan to ask a few more questions on Thursday).  But, this is another big win!  Big shout out to our big God!

When You Find Out Who Your Friends Are

When you go through trials, you find out who your friends are...  Some disappear when they get tired of hearing about you worry/cry/fart.  And some draw closer, hug you tighter, make you laugh harder, and are willing to sit with you during any storm - even a shit storm (you ladies better remember that when the chemo diarrhea starts!).

We moved to Lake Ozark just over a year ago.  We didn't know anyone...  I remember being so scared to make friends... Little did I know I would make lifelong friends who would carry me through a very tough journey.

These girls (and a few others not pictured) have been beyond generous with their words, with their prayers, with their time/resources and with their hearts.  I know that each of them would go through Hell or high-water for my family and me.  Honestly, I don't even feel like the word 'friend' does them justice... They are more like sisters (which is awesome since my twin sister, Jill, just moved to Florida on Thursday).  Sisters know all your dirty little secrets and love you anyway.  They don't judge.  They just accept you.  Plain and simple.

These girls and I share our Sunday evenings together.  We gather to encourage either other, laugh together and grow in our walk with Christ together.  They all have families to feed, marriages to nurture, and kids to care for, yet we are committed to meeting Sunday nights to support each other through the good and the bad.  All these gals are phenomenal and we are all at different stages in our faith.  Most are steadfast, consistent, strong, and stable.  And then there is me: Questioning, sometimes resistant, but also open to learning.  They don't judge.  They just accept me for where I am at.  Plain and simple.  Just like Christ.  The thing about these ladies... they don't just talk the talk.  They walk the walk.  And if I'm one of us is trailing behind in the race, they all stop to encourage, and carry me each other, if necessary, closer to the finish line.

Over the past month. these girls have fed my family with delicious food.  More importantly, over the past year, these girls have fed my soul.  Loving me, supporting me, challenging me: as a mother, as a wife, and as a Christian.  Tonight, they surprised me with party!  They had a big, full length mirror set up and showered me with hats, scarves, house shoes, and other chemo care items.  We watched tutorials on different ways to tie head scarves (turns out it isn't as hard as it looks.  And if it is, then my friend Nancy offered to fix my 'hair' every day for me.).

The party came at a perfect time, as I was actually having a rough afternoon thinking about losing my hair.  I stood in church this morning and was envisioning myself walking into a room of 200 people bald.  The thought terrified me.  I have my wig, but it isn't super comfortable with hair, so I can only imagine it without hair.  And, when I wear it, honestly I feel like a faker; like I'm some Saturday Night Live character.  I didn't know if I could rock the scarf/hat look.  Turns out I can.

When you find out who your friends are... you realize life is amazing.  Even during the storms.  Thank you girls for always being there no matter what!  Beyond blessed to be surrounded by women like you!

I love these ladies!
(Back left: Maria, Sherri, Molly, Mindy, me, Carrie, Jill, Whitney,
Front left: Nancy, Kristen and Natalie)

"It Might Be A Lot Scary"

I've been incredibly impressed with Cox in Springfield.  Since I got my cancer diagnosis, they have reached out to me every step of the way.  I even have a "breast navigator" who calls to offer resources and makes sure we are dealing with everything okay.  Her name is Laura, and from the moment I spoke with her she put my spinning mind at ease.  She 'gets it'.  She knows that it is more than hair that will just grow back (yes, I know it will grow back, but that doesn't take away the trauma of losing it).  She understands that I am young and have to go through cancer while raising a 4 year old. She gets that cancer is a family disease, not just the patient's.  She understands that sometimes you laugh your way through the process to keep from crying.  And she's cool with the crying, too.  She's a cancer counselor.  

In fact, last week, she met me at one of my doctor appointments to pass along a book that would help us explain things to Mason.  The book is called Mom and the Polka-Dot Boo Boo by Eileen Sutherland.  It's a cute little book that talks about mom being sick and taking medicine that might give her silly hair.  We've been very honest about telling Mase that mom is going to have silly hair and that some days she might be tired, but that is okay, because she is getting better.  We are trying to prepare him for the idea that even though I look different, I'm still the same mom, hence the short hair cut before all my hair falls out.  Mase thinks my new spiky hair is "silly and awesome."

Yesterday morning, Richard and Mase curled up on the couch and took a few minutes to read the book.  The conversation went a little like this:

Richard: So, Mase, Mom's hair is going to look silly.  Like Unke Jack's hair.  It might even be a little scary.
Mase:  {Sporting a big smile} It might be silly and A LOT scary!
Richard:  {Holding back the laughter} Yeah, it might be a lot scary, but that's okay.

Out of the mouth's of babes.  I love the special bond these two have.  I love that they can have bow and arrow wars one minute and then talk about 'life' stuff the next minute.

Oh, and Mase is wrapped up in a super soft blanket.  Nurse-extradionnare Jessica surprised me with it at my last appointment.  Mason has claimed it as his own, but I plan on re-claiming it very soon.

Time Thief

Cancer is a time thief.  I'm not trying to be philosophical or deep.  And, I'm not talking about it taking someone far too early, although I know that does happen.  I'm talking about the amount of time spent on doctor appointments, travel, tests, setting up childcare, researching chemo side effects, tracking medical bills and insurance, worrying about losing my hair, looking for hats to keep your head warm, trying to plan for chemo's 'sick days', etc.  It. Is. F'n. Exhausting.

On another note, I have no idea how my sweet husband deals with all of it.  And works, like a lot.  I have to say I have been supremely impressed with his employer, Lowe's.  They have been beyond accommodating through this shit storm season.  Over the past two months there has been literally dozens of appointments and he has not missed one.  He has been there every minute of every appointment.  Every needle stick.  Every phone call.  Every tear.

So, today was a much needed, relaxing day at home.  No appointments.  No travel.  No waiting on tests results or phone calls.  No shuffling and saying goodbye to the kiddo.  Just me and my sweet little family doing things that normal people do on the weekends: laundry, attempt taking a Christmas card photo while I still have hair, naps, playing, snacking, dinner with friends, etc.  Just a pretty normal day.  And it was exactly what we needed after a month that has been anything but normal.

So... we got our 'normal' holiday photo...

The Cut: Take One

For awhile I was thinking I should cut my hair...  I know I'm going to lose it.  But one of my biggest fears (aside from actually losing my hair) is that Mason wouldn't react well to me and my big ole, white, bald noggin.

Growing up my dad had a mustache.  I remember when he shaved it off.  I didn't like it.  I knew was pretty sure he was still my dad, but he didn't look like my dad.  It was almost scary and it took several days for me to get used to his new look.  I just don't want Mase to be scared of me.  I know it's going to be a shock to all of us when I lose my hair, but we are adults and can comprehend that it's just hair; he's four.  He refuses to eat pizza if it is cut in squares instead of triangles.  

A few days ago, my sweet friend/hairdresser Brittany messaged me to tell me we should play around a bit with my hair.  She owns Head Case Hair Lounge.  Richard said the same thing.  So, this morning I decided to pay her a visit for round one.  I suspect 2-3 weeks from now I won't have hair, but I wanted to start the transition now.  Really, how often do you get the chance to do anything to your hair?  I've always had long hair, and I know that going from long hair to no hair was going to be drastic.  

I wasn't sure how I would feel at today's appointment.  I had mentioned to several friends that I was going in for 'the cut.'  Several even offered to go with me.  While I LOVED that they offered to be there, I politely declined, as I wasn't sure what the day would hold.  I wanted to be able to do me - whether that be crying, anger, laughing...  

Brittany greeted me with a big hug, I sat in her chair and we got started.  She grabbed my long, think, blonde hair in one hand and *snip, snip, snip, snip*.  In one pass of her scissors, she probably took off over a foot of hair.  I remember the sound of those shears cutting my hair so vividly.  It was scary. And liberating.  Shit!  This is really happening!  Brittany continued to slowly cut my hair shorter and shorter.  While I thought I would be sad, we laughed and joked throughout the entire experience.  After a highlight and a small pink stripe she styled it and WOW!  I love it!  Honestly, I'm disappointed that I only get to keep it for a couple of weeks.  

I was a bit worried with Mase's reaction to my new 'do.  We have been talking to him for the past couple of weeks that mom's hair was going to be going through some silly changes... And that eventually her hair would look like Uncle Jack's and Papa Jack's hair.  When he saw my hair he told me that it looked funny and that it was awesome.  Music. To. My. Ears.  Big sigh of relief there... One cut down, one more to go.  

This experience could have been really traumatic.  Instead it was fun, relaxing and heartwarming.  So blessed that I was able to go to a friend who was ready to support me no matter how I felt or reacted to the situation.  I didn't feel the need to smile if I wanted to cry, I just got to be me... and smiled through the entire thing!  Thank you sweet friend!  

Thank you sweet Brittany for my new 'do!  

The Stats... And a Plan

The stats:

• 48 hours
• 450 miles put on the Prius
• 8 hours in the car
• 5 doctors visited 
• 2 tests (echocardiogram and a PET scan)
• 3 IV sticks
• 1 flu shot (well, 2 if you count Richard's)
• 2 hours spent trying on wigs
• Thousands of medical bills racking up (more than I even want to know!) - but oh so thankful for insurance
• Countless texts/messages of prayers and encouragement

The verdict:

• 6 chemo treatments - 1 every 3 weeks
• 1 year of a follow up medicine injected into my port
• 1 sassy red headed wig 
• Thousands of blessings 

All this made possible with 4 amazing grandparents who helped watch Mase the past few days.  Thank you Nannie, Poppy, GG and Papa!  Love you guys!

I am excited to write a few posts detailing the past two days, but for now, I think I've deserved a nap.  

What's Up Doc?

On Tuesday, we met with my oncologist for the first time, Dr. Robert Ellis (DRE).  Let me tell you, this guy is SMART and came highly recommended.  I must say I've felt like my breasts and I have been in excellent hands during this whole wild and crazy journey.  Richard and I were surprisingly calm as we entered the Hulston Cancer Center.  I think we were just ready to get a plan.

After some initial blood work, we were taken back to the exam room where we me Dr. Ellis.  He was confident, professional, but also warm and sympathetic.  Even though it wasn't his first rodeo, he was sympathetic to the fact that it was ours.  After he got our story and did a quick exam, he returned to give us the facts and the game plan.

The Facts:

• My cancer is aggressive.  Invasive ductal carcinoma.  HR- (hormone receptor), HER2+ (that has something to do with a protein).  HER2+ is actually a good thing, as there are drugs that can help keep this nasty little bitch cancer away.  
• Without treatment, DRE guessed my cancer had a return rate hovering around 50%.  I've got to be honest, it's a good thing Richard and I were sitting down when we heard that number.  I don't think either of us was prepared to hear that.  Richard even said his legs felt like Jell-o after the 50% bomb was dropped.  BOOM!  
• If the cancer did come back it would obviously hit somewhere else... Only if it hit again, it isn't as easy as cutting off a body part.  It could surface again in my liver, bones or blood.  NO THANK YOU!  
• With treatment, my cancer return rate drops to around 15%.

The Plan:

• 6 chemo treatments, 1 every 3 weeks.  They said the first appointment would last about 8 hours, due to some chemo education and that they would be administering my medicine very slowly to make sure there are no reactions.  After the initial treatment my appointments should be reduced down to about 5 hours.  
• 1 shot needed following each treatment to help keep my blood counts up.  
• 1 year of Herceptin after my treatment.  It's a medicine that will help keep my cancer from coming back.  It will be administered through my port, too.  

DRE also ordered a blood chemistry, an electrocardiogram, and a PET scan, just to make sure the rest of my body isn't trying to kill me.  I'm thankful to the Cox scheduling girl who got a bit feisty on my behalf so I could get my electrocardiogram that day and my PET scan scheduled the following day.  Shout out to the Cox team!  For the most part, I have gotten excellent customer service there - with the exception of the lady who looked like Stiffler's mom from American Pie at one of the registration desks.  She seemed a bit irritated that I had cancer and had the gall to check in for my appointment.    

Yes, I will be losing my hair and apparently you lose it everywhere; so the carpet will match the drapes.  Or more accurately, there will be no drapes and no carpet.  I plan on getting my hair cut soon just to help Mason and I make the transition.  

I knew chemo was a possibility.  While I was hoping to avoid it, hearing the 50% return rate frankly scared the shit out of us!  With that high of a return rate, I feel blessed that chemo is an option.  I will gladly take it if I can reduce my risks that much.  

After hearing the plan, Richard and I were in really good spirits.  We do much better knowing a plan, even if the plan is difficult, it feels good to be moving forward.  We are ready to kick cancers ass!  

Hope Quilt

One of the most humbling things along this journey is the number of strangers praying for us...  It brings tears to our eyes and joy to our hearts that people would spend their time praying for our little family.

I was blown away with a surprise gift left on my doorstep yesterday.  It is probably one of the most thoughtful and meaningful gifts I have ever received, yet the person who made it for me doesn't even know me.  I received a Hope Quilt from The Piece Makers' Quilting Group at Central Christian Church in Henderson, Nevada.  My sweet friend Amanda passed my name on to them.  Just a few days ago, I was shopping thinking I needed to find myself a chemo quilt...  And then a beautiful one just showed up on my doorstep!

The Piece Makers' goal is to bring honor and glory to God and wrap the Word around those who need comfort.  The organization was started by Joyce Koontz, who was diagnosed with cancer and wanted to find a way to bring comfort to other cancer patients.  Every person who receives a Hope Quilt is added to the church's prayer list.

The quilt is gorgeous, and includes blue and green, some of my favorite colors.  Woven into the quilt are scriptures that pertain like:

The peace I give is a gift the world cannot give.  So don't be troubled or afraid.  John 14:27 

Believe in the Lord your God, and you will be able to stand firm.  2Chronicles 20:20 

For nothing is impossible with God.  Luke 1:37 

My grace is all you need.  My power works best in weakness.  2Corinthians 12:9 

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, do not depend on your own understanding.  Proverbs 3:5 

So don't worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries.  Today's trouble is enough for today.  Matthew 6:34 

Give your burdens to the Lord, and He will take care of you.  Psalm 55:22

I am dreading treatment, but this beautiful quilt is going to make it a little more bearable.  Thank you Amanda and you sweet members of Piece Makers!

A Good Reminder...

Last night was Halloween.  I literally spent all day in bed, as I knew I would need to save my energy for trick-or-treating with Mase.  I tire very easily these days.  I've lost 5 pounds, which is a lot for me.   Seems I was just one breast cancer away from reaching my goal weight :).  My arms and legs are skinny, there is very little muscle tone left.  Not to worry, I plan on getting that back and my appetite is finally coming back.  I just knew I didn't want Mase to miss out on something because I was too tired to participate.  I know we will all have to make adjustments during this season, I just pray those adjustments don't interfere with him doing the things he loves to do.

Our friends, the Manselle's, hosted a fabulous Halloween party.  I cannot tell you how good it felt to be surrounded by some of our favorite families and watch Mase squeal with excitement during trick-or-treating.  Being around friends and seeing the kids get so excited was a good reminder that even though the journey is going to be tough, it is worth it.

Maverick and Mason keeping the neighborhood safe!

This morning, Richard went back to work.  I was sad to see him go.  He took excellent care of me the past two weeks.  He was nothing but kind and compassionate... Even anticipating my needs before they happened (he still wakes up at 2:30 in the morning and brings me my cool neck wrap).  It's not easy playing 24/7 nurse, Mr. Mom, cook, chauffeur, and housekeeper... But he did it enthusiastically and joyfully.  While Mase and I were sad to see him go, I think it will be good for all of us to get on with our lives.