God, Just Help Me Make It Through the Day... Amen.

Last night was rough.  The endorphins of the cancer diagnosis has worn off.  Our mom's have gone home.  The high of the clean nodes news has worn off.  I'm tired. And my anxiety is THROUGH.THE.ROOF.  Last night I went to bed and called Richard in to lay down with me.  I just couldn't stand being alone with all the anxiety.  He asked me what I was anxious about and I couldn't even tell him.  I'm anxious about LIFE.  All of it.

Here's the the thing:  Estrogen helps regulate your mood and anxiety.  After my hysterectomy, I was put on hormone replacement therapy and that was working great.  But I don't get that option anymore.  Oh, and I had a mastectomy.  And a surprise breast cancer diagnosis.  And I hurt.  And I have chemo to look forward to and all the awesomeness that brings, like losing my hair, nausea and stomach cramps.  At times, it just seems like too much.  I'm the first to say it is too much.  I will fight through.
I have no choice.  But honestly, right now, it feel like I am just barely making it.  And that's okay.  I'm making it.

You know the point of chemo?  I had never thought about it.  But I'm pretty sure the point is to poison your body enough to kill the cancer and not kill you in the process.  What a fun balancing that act that's going to be {note my sarcasm}.  Yes, I know I should be thankful for chemo and medicine and all that jazz.  But right now, I'm just too tired.

So, last night, Richard and I prayed.  We thanked God for our family and our friends.  We thanked him for our sweet little Mase and Mason's health.  We thanked him for our health.  We asked that he help our family with this transition and the anxiety.  We praised him for the good and asked him to help us deal with the bad.

And, at 2:30 am when I woke up with a hot flash (I have about 1-3 a night that last just a few minutes each), my amazing husband immediately got up and got me a cold neck wrap out of the freezer and opened a window.  There was no rolling over and groggily asking if I needed anything, he just immediately got up and came to my rescue.  Sometimes, he even returns back to bed with a small bowl of frozen grapes (ladies who have hot flashes take note!).  At 2:30 in the morning.  He's that awesome!  He's come to my rescue every second I have needed him the past two weeks.  He is amazing.  I can't wait to share a little about how awesome he has been to me, but again, I am too tired to go into that right now.

And, this morning, I woke up and before getting out of bed, I prayed that God help me make it through the day.  I told myself that in my anxious moments, may I turn to him before I fall apart.  And, I got up and started the day.  I'm tired, but I haven't fallen apart today, and that is a win.

Today We Celebrate!

A few days ago, Richard and I both woke up and we were in a bad head space.  We were sad and both agreed that sleeping was easier than being awake and dealing with this season.  We were literally disappointed that we woke up.  And, then Mase woke up and immediately started asking for his juice and a show and we knew that we didn't have the option to just sleep through this (okay, admittedly, I went to back to sleep, Richard didn't have that luxury).

We were disappointed we woke up.  Goodness, it pains me to even write those words!  But, I wanted to share them, because I've committed to sharing this journey ~ all of it.  The good, the bad, the gross and the ugly.  So, there you have it.  I'm happy to say that thought quickly faded.  We realize each day is a gift.

We also hated phone calls.  It seemed every time the phone rang, we were getting bad news: The tumor was cancerous.  We would need another surgery to do a node dissection.  The cancer is hormone receptor negative.  We'll need to install a port.  You will need chemo.  You will lose your hair.  It was all getting to be too much!

Today, we celebrate!  This morning, I got a call that my auxiliary nodes were clear!  WhooHoo!  That means the cancer was contained in my breast.  And, since my breast is gone, so is the cancer!  (I will still need chemo, due to some of the characteristics of my cancer, but we can handle that.)  What a wonderful feeling to know that cancer was no longer residing in my body!  We cried.  We praised God.  We shared the news with friends and family and have been overwhelmed with the amount of people cheering us on and praying for us.

It's absolutely humbling to think about the number of people who have been praying for us!  I'm sure we don't even know many of them, yet they take the time to pray for us.  We don't deserve that.  But, we gladly welcome it.  THANK YOU!

Another thing we are celebrating today ~ someone my husband works with sent him a text that read "Hey man!  My family doesn't really pray much, but tonight we prayed for your family."  Wow!  I don't even have words for that and I usually have words for everything!.  Just confirmation that this thing is bigger than us.

So, tonight, we go to bed...  With tears in our eyes.  With God on our hearts.  And with a sense of peace in our mind.  Looking forward to staying up to watch the Royals in the World Series and then settling in for a great night of rest.

We are also looking forward to waking up tomorrow :).

Silver Linings

Okay, I'll be the first to admit, this cancer thing blows big time!  These early morning hot flashes aren't fun.  I'm so scared of chemo and all the side effects of it.  BUT, there are always the silver linings:

• Such as Richard and I both being up at midnight and doing a number on all the carbs in the kitchen pantry.  Making memories pigging out at midnight.
• The cancer card trumps just about anything.  I try to use it sparingly, but let's just say this girl gets to take as many naps and rest breaks as she needs.
• My family drove 6 hours to hang out with me for 3 hours.  This cancer thing has changed my family ~ in a good way.  I think we have all been reminded that life is precious, so is family.  
• I have fallen in love with Richard even more every day.  His strength has been comforting and inspiring.  He's shown me that he and Mase don't need me, which is oddly comforting.  But he has also shown me that they want me and that feels great.  Cancer has shown me that my marriage is strong.  And I know it will only get stronger.
• Went to Springfield today because I had a drain issue (fun times!) and I got to have an impromptu lunch with just my mom and my sister.  That never happens! 
  
• I'm humbled by the number of people praying for me and my family.  A lot of those prayers are coming from people I don't know and whom I've never met.  Some of those prayers are coming from the last person I would expect them from... And that is surprisingly comforting.  
• My walk with God has grown over the past year, thanks for some amazing women in my life who support me and also lovingly challenge me.  It's easy to reach out to God in the good times, but I had not had my faith tested to know if I would turn to him in times of darkness.  Well, challenge accepted.  Now, more than ever, I know God has a plan and is in absolute control.  I know He gives us strength when we turn to him.  And that is something that I will continue to carry with me long after this battle has been fought and won.  
• I'm thankful that my cancer and node dissection was on my left side and not my right.  Ouch!  But since I'm right handed, it could have been way worse!
• I just reached my goal weight!  Sad, but true.  Thanks cancer!  And, it's even been suggested I consider adding a few pound prior to chemotherapy.  Who wants a chili cheese dog... Or two?  Me! 
• Hey!  When you don't shave your legs for 2 weeks, the hair actually turns soft!  Gross, I know. Don't judge.
• Thankful that I have been able to reach others... Little old me.  I'm not special, I certainly am flawed, but I know my story has encouraged others to get tested.  To pray.  To recognize the blessings.  And that is HUGE!  I know this cancer thing is bigger than me.  I don't know how, but I know great things are going to come from it!  

Never Too Old to Need Mom

Since all these surgeries began, Richard and I have been so blessed that our Mom's have been there with us!  Whether it be waiting in the waiting room for hours on end waiting for me to get out of surgery, keeping Mase entertained, the house maintained, our Mom's have been there every step of the way.  Our mom's have seen us both at our worst, when we are tired, crying and broken.  They have also witnessed that our marriage is strong and that we will conquer this battle as a family.  They laugh with us when we feel like laughing and they cry with us when they see us hurting.

Val, my mother-in-law stayed with us several days after my mastectomy.  She was a huge help to both me and Richard, and of course Mase had her wrapped around his sweet little finger.  She was here when we got the cancer call.  I will never forget that.  She was her usual calm, steady and faithful.  She kept Mase busy so Richard and I could have some time to process the weight of the information that we had just received.  She never shuttered when she saw my scarred up body.  Never gave me a disapproving look as I navigated this crisis without estrogen (and admittedly sometimes without grace).  Not once judged me for using the word 'clusterfuck' in my blog... In fact she thought I made it up.  I wish!  

My mom came up to watch Mase for my surgery on Thursday.  She was supposed to leave today.  This morning, she came and laid down in bed with me and held my hand.  The thought of her leaving scared me and I told her I wasn't ready for her to leave yet... So she just looked into my dazed tired eyes and said "then I won't leave yet."  I know she had commitments back home.  I know she had been away from my dad for several days.  She didn't even hesitate to offer to stay longer and that  meant so much to me!

I know both of our mom's have obligations at home, yet put those aside because we weren't ready to let go yet.  One of them have been here since this whole journey started 10 days ago.  I dread the day things return to 'normal' and we don't get one of our mom's here.  They bring so much to our lives just by being the strong, caring, loving, nurturing women they are.  Sure do love you Mom and Val!  

Yikes!

Last night, my friend Natalie came to visit.  As we were just getting comfy and ready to solve the world's problems, the most extreme, burning type pain shot down the inside of my left arm, where my non-existent bicep would be.  I'm assuming it has something to do with my auxillary node dissection. It happened about 3-4 inches away from the node dissection incision, which is just under where my left breast and armpit meet.  The pain probably lasted a good 15-20 seconds but was so intense, it knocked the wind out of me! When the pain subsided and I was able to look at my arm, I expected to see my skin gashed open or something... But there didn't appear to have any trauma in that area, at least looking on the outside.  I wasn't putting any strain on my arm at the time, either.  Any thoughts?  My gosh, I pray that pain doesn't happen again!  

Perhaps the pain came because I pushed it a little too hard today.  My mom, Richard and I took Mase trick-or-treating at a Trunk-or-Treat that one of our local grocery stores set up.  I so desperately wanted to go so I could hear him giggle and watch him squeal in delight...  I hurt.  I hurt a lot right now, and one of the few things that trumps the pain is watching my sweet Mase play and giggle.  

I love this picture!  You see this giant TMNT mask but if you look just a little more, you can see the sweetest little brown eyes starring back at you.  

Friends In Low Places

I've mentioned on several occasions how amazing my friends are.  I cannot wait until I have enough energy to write about each of them and all their awesomeness!  But, tonight I want to share with you a few seemingly 'strangers' (and I don't like that word because as you will read, they aren't strangers at all!) that I believe were placed in my life by the Big Guy himself.  He was preparing me for what he knew was to come.  I think they are truely God-sends!  

When I started this BRCA journey a couple of months ago, my friend Carrie said I really should meet her friend Erin (EP).  I did want to meet Erin, but found that time had slipped away from me and I never got to really connect with her before my surgeries.  No biggie, right?  Wrong!  I didn't know all the ends and outs of Erin's story, but I knew there were some similarities to mine.  I reached out to Erin and said I think it's time we had some coffee.  She said "we can meet tomorrow, I can come to you because I know you driving isn't really an option."  Okay, right off the bat, she got it!  She shared her story with me, it offered advice, comfort and hope.  We talked, we laughed and we cried.  A stranger who I had this immediate connection with.  Thanks for taking the time EP.

Erin and I have a mutual friend.  She came over just 4 days after my mastectomy to share her cancer journey with me.

Another friend, Caren (CS), is a former oncology nurse.  I wouldn't have considered us close friends, we've met a few times at the playground or TumbleTime.  She has reached out to me and wow! what a comfort she is.  She listens and tells me I'm not crazy.  She helps to explain all HR-, HER2+ and all the other letters I can't remember or decipher.  Just knowing there is someone willing and able to explain this stuff when all I hear from the doctor is the voice of the Charlie Brown teacher is a God-send.  Oh did I mention she is a mom of 4 who just had twins?  Bonus for me, she is one of the few people who are up in the middle of the night when I'm usually doing my best thinking!  Again, someone who I seemingly just happens to cross paths with, when I know the truth is that God knew I would need her.  

I met Katheryn (KZ) in the hospital was I recovering from my mastectomy.  I was warned I may have a roommate after surgery and I was worried.  With my hysterectomy, we had a room to ourselves, which was great!  I was not very thrilled with the fact that I would be undergoing this physically and emotionally taxing surgery and have to share a room with a complete stranger.  I don't remember exactly how we hit it off (thank you Mr. Morphine), but in the short 20 hours that we shared we laughed a lot, cried a little and shared a lot.  She told me about her cancer journey (this was before I knew of my cancer diagnosis) and how she arrived at her decision to have a prophylactic mastectomy this go around.  We tried to get sway our nurse to sneak us in some real food, as we were both put on liquid diets (we were unsuccessful, but I think since Katheryn and I presented a united front, we got close).  We exchanged jabs, mainly consisting of her being nearly 20 years my senior and needing minimal pain medicine, while I was begging for more every chance I could.  We had a great chat at 4:30 in the morning about all the really important things in life (God, family, love).  We cried a little and we laughed a lot.  My mom was keeping Mason, so she wasn't able to be at the hospital that night, but when I needed a mom, God made sure I had one (and I know my mom is so grateful that Katheryn was there for me when she wasn't able to be).  Katheryn and I are now Facebook friends.  I could feel her disappointment and sorrow when I messaged her to let her know things turned out differently than we had anticipated.  I look forward to keeping up with her... 

Jessica-nurse-extraordinaire (JS) is mentioned in some earlier posts.  I met her when I went to take my BRCA test.  Little did I know at that point, she was fighting her own battle with breast cancer.  Gosh, I feel so silly that I was stressed over a test result and she was in the real-deal battle.  I remember hearing about her struggle, and praying for her before I even had my results.  I wanted to reach out to her, but didn't as I didn't want to cross any boundaries.  t felt a connection with her long before I knew we would become cancer comrades.  She's been so great to send me encouragements before procedures.  She keeps it real, but also has the most amazing attitude.  I know she is going to be a valuable resource to me as I go through this journey.  Once again, God has placed yet another seemingly-random person in my path just when He knew I would need that.  

I met Krista (KS) at my sisters house, shortly after she was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She was my sister's neighbor and when she found out I was going to have a bilateral mastectomy, she was more than happy to share her mastectomy experience with me.  Once again, we didn't know this thing was going to turn into way more than a prophylactic mastectomy.  She's shared her blog with me, answered my questions, and is currently wrapping up the end of a very tough chemo experience.  It's humbling and scary to see a strong woman taken down by chemo, but also so inspiring to see she fought the battle with grace and came out on top!  Krista, thanks for walking me through this journey.  

Isn't Krista beautiful!? 

Jennifer (JDM) was a teammate of mine in high school 20 years ago (wow, 20 years ago!).  We played volleyball and let me tell you she had one hell of a serve!  A few things I remember about Jennifer is that she had spunk.  She was an extremely hard worker and a dedicated athlete.  She could have totally kicked my scrawny butt if she had wanted to.  She had a bit of a hard edge to her and had a wicked sense of humor.  She seemed to be so comfortable in her skin ~ not an easy task in high school.  She seemed to know exactly who she was and was firm on what she stood for.  A few months ago, long before I knew my fate, I remember reading on Facebook that she was battling breast cancer.  I saw her picture and tears started streaming down my face.  I looked at her picture and it gave me confirmation that my plan to have a prophylactic mastectomy was the right choice for me.  As I studied this picture, I was struck by Jen's amazing smile, bravery and her strength.  Once Jen saw my cancer coming out status, she immediately reached out to me to offer encouragement, advice and just an open ear.  She's fighting her own battle, yet took the time to guide me as I start my own battle.  

To me, this picture oozes strength and beauty. 

I'm not alone in this journey.  Far from it.  These strong, courageous ladies (and I'm sure I will meet many more along the way) are a constant reminder that He provides us exactly what we need in our time of need!  

I Don't Know What It Means, But It's Not Great

This afternoon, we got the call from my surgeon's nurse that my cancer is hormone receptor negative.  I don't know what that means, but it's not great.  I think it means I will have to have chemotherapy.  Whatever... As Richard says, I've been served a shit sandwich.

There is good news...  I am also HER2+.  I don't know what that means either, but I think it means there are drugs available that help reduce the chances of it showing up to the party again.

On the bright side, my husband is a ROCK STAR!  Seriously, he is amazing!  He spends his bathroom time studying all the cancer information and for those of you who know Richard, he's in the bathroom a lot!  HA!  I'm just happy he is using that time in there productively, opposed to watching old WWE videos on YouTube.  In all seriousness, someday I will post the details of all his awesomeness.  I just don't have the energy to do that right now or the emotional strength.  The great thing with Richard, when I'm not strong, he picks up the slack and is strong for the both of us.

More Appointments....

I have so many things I want to write about... But I just don't have the energy to write like I want to.  So, first, I'm going to write a quick update about my doctor appointments on Monday, as I know some of you are curious to know what I found out (which wasn't a whole lot).
Monday, the Moss clan packed up to head to Springfield.  Mason spent the day with his friend Hollis in Marshfield.  Hollis lives on a farm.  With a pony.  And chickens.  And kittens.  Mason was in Heaven.  Big shout out to my friend Joni for letting him stay for the day.  Knowing Mase was having a great day made my day go a lot better...

So, our first appointment was with DBB, my breast surgeon.  As we pull up to his office, Richard blasts Eye of the Tiger, and that puts a smile on my face.  He gives me the pep talk that we are in this together and that we'll deal with whatever they news they have to tell us.

It's weird.  I have the following interaction with at least 5 different people:

Nurse/Stranger/Waitress/Anybody:  "How are you today?"   

Me:  It's been the worst fucking week of my life.  My tits got cut off, I've all of a sudden have cancer and I have zero tools to deal with this fucking mess.  "I'm okay, thank you.  How are you?"

Richard and I are in the exam room waiting on DBB and Richard is reading a chart about breast cancer.  Somehow he manages to make it fall off the wall.  Typical.  Since Richard has read the entire poster, he thinks he knows how to treat this and we can leave.  Again, typical.

DBB comes in the room and after all the pleasantries, we get down to business.  I'm trying to hold it together.  Stage 1 (1.9 cm), grade 3 (not great).  We are still waiting on something having to do with hormone receptors, I don't quite understand, but I know we are hoping for an estrogen fed cancer.  And we are really hopeful that is the case since this lump decided to blow-up after my hysterectomy.  Fingers crossed!  DBB decides that we really need to do a node dissection surgery to gather 7-10 nodes just to make sure the cancer hasn't spread anywhere else.  We schedule that surgery for Thursday.  He also says that depending on these hormone receptor results, that he may also install a port for chemo treatments.  WARNING: Anytime I hear the word chemo, I start to cry.

Next, we head over to see Dr. Price (DCP), my plastic surgeon.  I'm crying.  When I started this mastectomy thing I was so concerned with how my reconstruction would look and now that seems so minimal.  He took the bandages off of my sutures.  Richard says it looks really good, but I honestly can't bring myself to look yet.  Good news, he did remove one of my drains!  I still have my right drain, but I think they will be removing that on Thursday, before my node dissection surgery (and putting in another drain).

So, we wait... Again.

"Mom looks weird here."

I was getting dressed this morning and was determined to change out of pajamas.  I went to put on a pair of jeans that felt just a tad too tight, but I so desperately wanted to wear something other than pajamas that I didn't even care.  Next, I picked out a bright green tank top that I was trying to step into.  Lifting up your arms isn't really an option so all clothes must either be button up, zip up, or step into.  I got the tank top up half way above my legs and it got stuck.  I'm not able to pull very hard to get it over my hips and I don't have the flexibility to wiggle it back down my legs.  Richard was on the phone going over a very important Fantasy Football trade when he noticed my struggle.  He stopped to help rescue me from my tank top, and then Mase ran in our room and jumped onto our bed.  I had on my jeans, and a tank top half-way up my hips and Richard was trying to shimmy it down my legs.  I could see Mason was looking at my chest and drains and I could see on his face that he realized that something was different.  We are a pretty open family, so Mason had seen me naked before and he knew what mommy looked like.  He knew that I looked a lot different now.  Richard helped rescue me and got me a nice zip up jacket that wouldn't attack me.  We both knew that Mase saw something he wasn't sure about, but we weren't sure how to address it.  I had a new friend coming over to visit with me on some things, so Mase and Richard decide to go get a pretzel.  Richard took it upon himself to ask Mason a few questions.  The exchange went a little like this:

Richard: Mason, were you scared today when you came in the room and saw mom's tubes? 

Mason: "A little. (He lifts his shirt and points at his nipples) Mom looks a little weird here.  Not us, but Mom.  Dad, lift your shirt so I can see yours." (Richard proceeds to lift his shirt to show Mason his nipples.)

Richard: "Well son, Mommy is sick right there but she's gonna get better.  Those tubes will be out in a couple days and she will start getting better there." 

Mason: "Dad watch! (as he climbs the bench) I'm exercising!" 

*And the moment was gone...  

I love that Richard took the time to ask Mason how he was feeling.  I love that Mase was receptive to sharing with his Dad.  And, I love that Mase got the answers he needed and then quickly moved onto something new, like how he could do tricks on the bench.

It's Okay to Talk Back

Sorry guys, I'm new to this blogging thing.  I guess there was a little box I needed to check to allow readers to leave comments.  My bad.  Hopefully it's a little easier for you to leave comments if you choose.  And, if you don't want to, that's okay too.  The thing I love about blogging is that I always get the last word :).  Just ask Richard or my Mom about how much I enjoy that...

Early Morning Messages

Happy to report my sleeping has really improved last night.  We can all deal with things a little better with things when we are rested.  I do, however, wake up in the early hours of the morning.  Usually, this is when I respond to messages or write to my mom and Jill.

Here's a little letter I just sent them:

Morning.  You can see I'm starting to feel better because there were no messages left at 1 in the morning.  I think I slept 5 hours, with only getting up once.  That's a big improvement.  The days are getting better, and that's a relief.

So, last night I had my first pity party. I can cry if I want to, cry if I want to, you would cry too if it happened to you ;).

I did so good for the past 4.5 days!  Gosh, I was so prepared for this surgery.  I had read all about complications, the pain (it's manageable), the drains, the expanders, why I felt like it was a good choice and even searched for pictures so I could be prepared for what my body was going to look like.  I checked the box that told me about all the stuff above and said "yep, I'm cool with all of that."

Fast forward to last night and I got handed a shit sandwich (Richard taught me that one).  All this was to help me reduce my risks and my worry. We all took drastic steps to ensure we were going to get it before it got us, and that just didn't happen for me.  Or for us.  I'm well aware that this is a family issue and not a me issue.

The fact all this is happening and I have to stop my estrogen feels emotionally like I'm being asked to fight with one arm tied behind my back.

I'm sure I will eventually get back in my good head space where I am thankful, where Jesus is my best friend and that I'm just so damn happy that things turned out this way... It just a lot easier to get there when I have the proper tools.  You can technically eat a bowl of cereal with a butter knife, but if that's all you have, then you can see how frustrating it is to not have the right tools.

Thanks so much for giving me space last night. I'd be pissed if you dumped that in my lap and ran away.  I totally realize it isn't fair for me to say I was upset to three people who love me the most (I told Giz I wanted the same thing) and then tell them to go away.  I just wanted to cry and I didn't want an audience for it.  I felt better after all that, so it was at least productive.  That's why I like blogging, I always get to have the last word :).

Very anxious to get this show on the road.  I fucking hate waiting (sorry, Daniel Tiger saying "waiting is hard" just doesn't quite cover how I am feeling).  I'm okay if they have to do another surgery to get whatever it is they want to get, I just don't want to wait weeks for that to be scheduled and then have to wait weeks for those results to come back.  Up to this point everything was completely in my control.  I'm not driving this bus anymore and that blows for a control freak like me.

Switching gears: two weird things about my foobs.  1. Sometimes I feel them like slightly vibrate from the inside. Sort of like when you phone vibrates, but obviously much less aggressive than that.  I'm guessing it's the  nerves playing tricks on me.  It's not painful or anything, just an odd sensation. 2. Parts of my foobs itch.  I guesting it's like the inner stitches... So I reach over to scratch the itch and I can feel with my hand that I'm scratching my boob, but my boob can't feel my hand and there isn't really any itch relief.  Again, it is not painful, it just an odd sensation.

Loves you girls!  Someone brought over a Tippens chocolate silk pie.  I  might as well get started on that so I don't have it starring me in the face all day taunting me.  Or so I can have some before Giz finds it.

**We call Richard "Giz" because several years ago he went through this phase where he wore nothing but argyle sweaters.  My sister started calling him R-Gizzle, and over time, it's just been shortened to Giz.**

My Inner Warrior is Wilting

It's been over 2 days since I received the call that I have cancer? had cancer? (I'm not even sure what verb tense to use) got the news.  You'd think a call like that would send one into an instant tail spin.  Nope.  Perhaps I am a slow learner, but I went a full 52 hours (probably at least 47 of those awake hours) before I let any real tears fall.  That's got to be some sort of record, right?!  Let me tell you my secret:

1. Oxycodone.  It has a way of making most things a lot more tolerable.  Tissue expander pain, cancer diagnosis phone calls, Richard watching yet another Sasquatch show ~ all these excruciating things just don't seem quite as bad when you buzzed just enough that you can't completely see straight and feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  
2. Estrogen.  It's kind of like a happy pill.  It doesn't really make you happy, but it makes you stable.  I'm typically a really happy person, so stability is good.  No highs, no lows, just hormonal homeostasis.  
3. Utter exhaustion.  When you aren't sleeping and aren't eating, you don't have the energy to waste on frivolous things like crying, being angry, brushing your teeth or thinking about how shitty some news might be.  You just exist counting down the hours until your next pain pill.  

So, if you can keep that routine up (and more power to you if you can), who knows how long you can be numb and perceived as strong/brave/amazing/f'n awesome/a warrior.  In the last 2 days, I have been called all of those.  You are basically emotionally unstoppable.  To be honest, it isn't a horrible head space to be in.  While all the above words feel good, perhaps a more accurate description would have been 'oblivious'.  

The problem comes when you have to alter the above cocktail:

1. While still in pain from the expanders, I was now getting to the point where the pain wouldn't completely stop me in my tracks.  I was able to get in and out of bed without assistance.  I could take a deep breath without wincing.  And then I start thinking about the consequences if I don't wean myself off the oxycodone.  You may be thinking about addiction issues, but I'm thinking of something much bigger ~ constipation.  
2. When I got the cancer call, I was advised to immediately stop taking my estrogen.  If the cancer is estrogen fed (and from what I heard in my fugue state an estrogen fed cancer is actually preferred to some other forms of cancer) taking hormones are sort of like adding gasoline to a fire.  Even in my slightly high state, I knew that didn't sound like a very good idea.  
3. I'm still exhausted, but not quite exhausted enough.  It seems that I have slept just enough and eaten just enough to start feeling something other than tired, yet not enough to regulate any irrational thoughts.  So, I now have just enough energy to throw myself off of an emotional cliff, but none of the energy it takes to pull myself back together.  

As you can guess it's been a bit of a struggle  complete clusterfuck in the making in my head this evening.  I don't know exactly what is happening, but I've come to terms with whatever it is, it 1. sucks and 2. it is okay.  

It feels like my inner warrior is wilting. 

It's Cancer. Turns Out My Boobs Really Were Trying to Take Me Down!

I finally am able to get the pain under control.  Sleeping is still a struggle, but now that the pain is better I'm hopeful I can sleep better (note that I'm typing this post at 3:00 am).

It's about 4:30 pm on day 2.  Dr. Buckner (DBB) calls and wants to check in.  I think that it's great that he called and wanted to make sure I was comfortable and had enough pain meds to get me through the weekend.  Here's a bit of our conversation:

DBB:  Hi Julie, it's Dr. Buckner.  How are you feeling?
Me:  I'm doing okay.  I'm in some pain, but I think we are going to get that figured out.
DBB:  Julie, I got a report back from the lab and the lump we took out was cancer.
Me:  Huh?
DBB:  The lump we took out was cancer.  I am sure I got all the margins out, so that is good news.
Me:  Huh?  What does all this mean?
DBB:  Well, we can discuss things when you come in Monday for your visit.  I don't have the full report back, I just wanted to let you know as soon as I found out.
Me:  Okay.
DBB:  Julie, we are going to get this.  It's out!  We may need to do some more testing and biopsy a few nodes, but as far as breast surgeries, you shouldn't need any more of those regarding this cancer.  We'll work on setting you up with an oncologist.
Me:  Okay.  (I'm in shock and am having trouble talking at this point)

We wrap up our phone call.  While he dropped this huge bomb on me, there just wasn't anything that can be done at this moment.  I am in shock.  And I'm highly medicated (that's probably a good thing).  I keep thinking this is a bad dream.  He told me best case scenario it's an estrogen fed cancer, so that is what we are hoping for.  He said I should immediately stop taking my estrogen.  I actually called him back about 5 minutes later because I could not comprehend what he was saying.  As the phone is ringing I'm trying to convince myself that maybe he said 'pre-cancerous' and that wouldn't be so bad.  He answers his phone and I ask for some clarification.  Nope, he definitely said cancer.  So, now we wait.  I freaking hate waiting!  He confirms our follow-up appointment for Monday.

Richard and I briefly talk about it, but again we both are in shock.  We didn't see this coming at all.  All I really want is for Richard to hug me and hold me right now, but that isn't going to happen anytime soon thanks to these sucky tissue expanders.

My mom was on her way home from her consult with Dr. Price, my plastic surgeon.  She called in while I was talking to DBB, so I needed to call her back.  I'm anxious to hear about her appointment and decided I would wait until she is home to tell her that the lump was cancer.

Me:  Hi Mom!  How are you?
Mom:  Good baby girl, how are you feeling?
Me: Well, um I'm okay.  Are you home or driving?
Mom: I'm driving.
Me:  Oh, okay.  Well, just call me when you get home.  How was your appointment?
Mom:  Julie, you tell me right now what is going on!

I tried so hard to sound positive and upbeat on the phone.  I certainly didn't want to worry her or cause her to wreck.  I considered not telling her until after my Monday appointment, but I knew she would want to know.  I can only imagine the shock it was to her, too.

Richard and were just talking about that lump and how it is a blessing in disguise.  I probably wouldn't have barreled through this mastectomy if I didn't have that lump.  I had a few people question if I were doing the right thing since I just had a hysterectomy less than 4 weeks ago.  I, too, was questioning if the mastectomy was a right decision for me.  But I had this gut instinct that I needed to push through, even if it was too fast for someone else, it was what was right for me.  THANK GOD that I listened to my own inner voice.

I'm in shock.  Cancer is kind of a big deal.  Stupidly The possibility of cancer didn't really enter my mind.  I have yet to cry more than 5 minutes about this.  I've already done the most radical treatment option there is.  What else can they take from me?  I mean, I'm running out of spare parts.  I continue to feel numb (true statement both physically and emotionally).

I've seen that sometimes cancer can be treated solely with a mastectomy.  I pray that's the case, but if it's not, I know I can handle whatever treatment I need...  Once again, God's got this!

God is still very good.  I was lead to push through with this mastectomy because He was preparing me.  The positive BRCA test, the worry, the hysterectomy, the mastectomy ~ all were preparing me for this.  He does not put us through trials to test our faith.  We encounter trials because he knows what's best.  While some may be angry or wonder why me (all totally valid feelings) I truly think these trials are bringing me and my family closer to him.

I hope to get some sleep now.  Thanks for reading!  For those of you who worry, know that between the Moss family and the Gillispie family we are STRONG!  Still in shock, but more importantly still feeling very blessed.

Eviction Day!

I don't even know where to begin.  I've intended to write a post for the past few days detailing my mastectomy surgery.  Frankly, I've been too exhausted or too drugged to make much sense, so bare with me.

On Tuesday, Oct. 14th Richard and I reported to the Surgery Center where my plastic surgeon, Dr. Price, marked me up.  My chest looked like a google road map.  Then, we head over to Cox South and wait in the waiting area for about an hour.  I'm nervous and Richard is being the strong, steady rock that he is.  

Waiting to board our plane to Cancun!
Obviously not really, but he sure did make me laugh.

Several of our friends and family have asked to be on a contact list to stay updated during my surgery.    Richard sent the above picture to everyone (including his boss) with the caption: "Waiting to Board Our Flight to Cancun!"  Obviously, we weren't going to Cancun, but it sure made me laugh.  I love that he can be beyond sensitive to the situation, but also finds a way to break the tension.  

Okay, so they call us back and we sit in a pre-op room what seems to be hours.  In actuality it was maybe only 2 hours.  After our 2 hour wait, both my doctors show up and the anesthesiologist.  My breast lump has gotten bigger since I had last seen my breast surgeon, Dr. Buckner.  I remind him of the lump and he feels around it for a bit.  It hurts, and I have always heard that is a good thing, because cancer doesn't usually hurt (not true).  I attributed it to being bigger because my body has been a hormonal battle ground.  He expresses some concern about the lump and says he's going to change the plan a bit and inject some blue dye in my breast.  I was a bit surprised, so honestly I can't exactly even tell you what the blue dye was for.  He still thought it was just a "fatty" but wanted to be sure to check it out.  Shortly after he tells us the new plan, the anesthesiologist is ready to go to town, and again that can't come soon enough.  I'm just thankful I don't have to do a repeat of my hysterectomy where they wheeled me into the operating room still awake.  

The surgery lasts for about 3 hours.  I have a very vague memory of recovery, but I do have an image of Richard walking towards me while I'm still in recovery.  Turns out, I was highly emotional from the anesthesia and the nurse snuck Richard back there for a few minutes hoping it would calm me down.  A huge shout-out to all the nurses who go above and beyond to help a put a patient at ease.  

Some time later, I'm guessing 4:30 in the afternoon, I get taken to my overnight room.  I have a roommate, which was a first for me.  Her name was Kathryn and she had a unilateral mastectomy that afternoon.  She's probably in her late 50's, has gray hair, a little sass, and is as nice as could be.  She reminded me a lot of my mom, which was so comforting.  We shared a lot about our families, our journey, and talked about our boobs a lot.  We even had a great conversation at 3:30 in the morning about how God is always looking over us.  I won't ever forget her.  She has chosen to not get reconstruction and I don't think she is on any kind of pain meds.  Me, on the other hand, am wanting to get my hands on anything they are willing to give me.  I'm in excruciating pain.  Damn tissue expanders.  I feel like I had done a million push ups.  I struggle to even hold up my water cup.  Oh, and we are both peeing bright green thanks to the blue dye.  That was interesting and made both Kathryn and I feel special.  I think we were getting a little punchy since we were sleep deprived.  

I am up most of the night, just able to fall asleep for 10 to 15 minutes at a time.  At one point, I woke up in extreme pain and the nurse quickly stepped up their game.  Those nurses work so hard, and we had some great ones in our room.  

Richard stayed with me until around 7:00 pm, but then switched places with Jill so she could come stay with me a bit.  I kept telling Jill and Richard that I felt this massive relief that the surgery was complete.  Yes, I was in a lot of pain, but it was still worth it because it needed to be done.    

The next morning, my breast surgeon, Dr. Buckner and my plastic surgeon, Dr. Price came in a little before 7:00 am to do rounds.  I really wished Richard was there because he does such a better job hearing what they are saying.  They both remove some bandages and take a look at things.  I tell them that I don't think I want to see them quite yet.  They were extremely respectful of that choice.  Both say that they look as good as possible at this point, so I'm pleased with that.  Eventually, I decide to look.  They are shriveled and rock solid (that's the tissue expanders).  I think they look like two rotten oranges or some deflated balloons.  Not attractive at all, but it's a process.  

I'm released a few hours later...  Over then next day I was in some serious pain.  I laid around a lot and I slept very little.  I put in a call to Dr. Price's office asking if we could do something to help that.  They modified my directions or taking my oxycodone and said I could also alternate ibuprofen.  The new pain management plan seems to be working now.  

Yay!  It's over!  It hurts like hell, but it is over!  

My office: complete with a notebook to journal my drain output and medicine schedule. chapstick, meds, lemon cookies to eat with the medicine so I don't get sick, Jesus Calling devotional, mints, water, and iPad.  Not a bad little set up.  

I'm a Warrior

My prophylactic bilateral mastectomy is tomorrow.  I'm scared, but I know it's the right thing to do.  As I am getting things in my house in order (cleaning, laundry, making freezer meals, etc.) and packing I feel an odd sense of nervousness, calmness, and numbing that I mentioned in my previous post.  As I shower, wash my hair, and shave my legs for the last time in who-knows-how-long, I feel like I'm a warrior preparing for battle.  

*Cue the Rocky theme song Eye of the Tiger in the background*

"I'm numb... which ironically is how my breasts will feel once all this is over."

I feel like I should write a post since I'm going in for my mastectomy tomorrow.  Truth is, I can't come up with anything positive, profound, funny, sappy or sad to write.  I'm numb... Which ironically is how my breasts will feel once all this is all over.  Much of the nerves are severed and removed during the mastectomy.

So many of my feelings off-set each other:

• Yes, this is a big deal, but it's not exactly a crisis.  
• Yes, I'm nervous for the procedure, but I'm also excited that lump will be gone.
• Yes, I fear my body will look deformed, but I am hopeful that once the reconstruction is over I will be pleased with the result.  
• Yes, this BRCA thing sucks, but it's also such a blessing to have this warning.
• Yes, the recovery will be very tough, but not nearly as tough as cancer.  

I read the following quote from a fellow BRCA sister who said this about a mastectomy: It's a hard decision to make, but not a difficult one.  

"It's a hard decision to make, but not a difficult one."
THIS is why it isn't difficult.  

I'm About to Lose My Sh!t

You know all that positive, strong, confident talk I spew in most of my posts... Well if you are looking for something like that, then please click on any other post and enjoy my rants wisdom.  Truth is: I'm about to lose my shit.  This goes far beyond being nervous.  When I think about it in depth, I get nauseous. And then I eat - I've been consuming embarrassing amounts of Reese's Puffs cereal.

I think I'm in denial.  I was walking with a friend the other day and she asked me what some of my concerns were.  All I could come up with was that I'm scared I was going to be starving - they told me that I wasn't allowed food or water anytime after midnight, which isn't a big deal except my surgery isn't until 4:00 in the following afternoon!  I'm usually 3 bowls deep by that time of day!  Yes, I fully realize that there are bigger fish to fry than me getting 'hangry' but at the time I couldn't even verbalized the lengthy list of fears I have.

Here is a small sampling of what is going through my mind:

1. Am I doing the right thing?
2. What if it isn't really necessary?
3. Should I keep my nipples?
4. What are the chances of me dying during surgery?
5. What are the chances of me dying if I don't have the surgery?  Shit.
6. Who would take care of Richard and Mase?
7. What if this gnarly lump is something really bad?
8. How am I going to go 16+ hours without food and drink?
9. What if I don't ever get to sleep on my stomach again?
10. What if there are complications?
11. What exactly so people mean when they say "it's not painful, just uncomfortable"?
12. Do I have enough help to care for Mason when I am not able to?
13. Do I want my boobs to be smaller than before or the same size?
14. Silicone or saline?
15. Will I be able to look at myself after all this?
16. Will my husband even want to look at me after all of this?
17. What kind of bra will I wear home?
18. I have worn a bra every single day since I was in Jr. High (although truth be told I didn't really need one until I was halfway through my freshman year).  What will it be like to not have to wear a bra?
19. Drains. Ugh, I've heard they are terrible.  How many will there be and how long will they be in there?
20. What if I can't handle it?  

Okay, I'll spare you the rest of the craziness in my head, but those questions circle through my head like a tornado.  And, honestly, that's probably not even half of them!  

Deep breath.

UPDATE (10/10/14): I just received a call saying that my surgery has been moved from 4:00 to 11:00am!  Yay, much less chance I will get hangry... and less time I have to worry!  

Thinking about My Ta-ta's (and Trade-Ins)

I've been thinking a lot about boobs...

I feel mine a lot.  That lump has gotten way worse, I don't really fear it is cancer, but I definitely think my hormones have effected it.  Sometimes it stings and it is quite tender.  It scares me that if my body can grow a lump, then it can growth something worse, like cancer.  I'm not overly worried since my surgery is pending.  If I'm going to have a lump, now would be the time to have it because I know it will soon be evicted.  I'm ready to send that b!$@# packin'.  In a way, I am even grateful for it.  For me it serves as confirmation that I am making the right decision.  Without a pending mastectomy, rest assured, I would be in serious PANIC mode!

I look at pictures a lot...  Mostly post-op pictures. of women how have undergone prophylactic mastectomies.  It's scary.  Reconstruction is not an easy process.  There can be lots of complications.  There are lots of decisions to make.  So much unknown.  Once the whole process is complete, some of the results look absolutely beautiful and natural.  And some are downright hideous.  I pray that after the surgery, I am able to look at myself and know I made the right decision.  I know it will be tough, long road - physically and mentally.  A huge shout out to the women who have been vulnerable and brave enough to share their journey with pictures.

I've got to be honest, I love my boobs.  They have served me well.  I think they helped me overcome those awkward Jr High days.  Once I got boobs, people (and perhaps myself) forgot about the scrawny girl with big, thick glasses who lacked confidence.  I suddenly became the popular girl who could fill out the cheerleading uniform and prom dress.  They've helped me get out of a ticket or two.  They probably helped me pass a class or two.  I know they have gotten me more than my fair share of free drinks at the bar.  And I'm pretty sure they helped me catch an amazing husband (of course he loves me for more than my ta-ta's, but let's be honest ~ he noticed them!  Even though he's a gentleman, he's not blind).  Finally, they helped nourish my son, even though they didn't really want to cooperate.  Overall, they've been good to me.

It's a tough decision... My boobs are nearly the same (with the exception of that pesky lump) as they were 3 months ago before I found out I had the BRCA mutation.  They were acceptable then (although, admittedly I wished they were a little perkier), and now I look at them and I'm paranoid.  I feel like I've got a hit out on my health.  It may not be an immediate threat, but I feel like at some point, BRCA could win out, and that is simply not a risk I'm willing to take.

Surgery is not the only option.  Many women with the BRCA mutation find vigilant surveillance an option.  This would include bi-yearly mammograms and MRI's.  Not a horrible option, but there is some concern about exposing women prone to cancer to additional radiation.  Having a hysterectomy, which I have done, also can help reduce the rate of breast cancer, specifically those that are estrogen fed.  This of course, comes with hormonal changes, which can actually fuel cancer.  And, while a hysterectomy can reduce the chance of getting some breast cancers, the reduced risk still remains well above the general population, hovering around 50-60% I think.

Also, something to consider is that the vast majority of breast cancer cases are treatable.  If caught early, survival rates of breast cancer hover over 90%.  Y'all, those are great odds!  The big question is: Do you wait until you get cancer and then treat it?  Or to you take preventative action now?  It's a tough decision ~ and there are no right answers.  For me, I would much rather do this on MY terms, not wait around for cancer to dictate what needs to happen.  Everyday, I read posts from cancer survivors who wish they would have known their risk prior to getting cancer.

Another way to put it, there is a 60-87% chance your brakes will give out in your car, do you drive home?  Or do you ditch the car that has all the warning lights going off and trade it in for a different car?  Yes, the trade in process is tough, and painful.  But that inconvenience is way less severe than an accident (cancer).  You following me, Dawg?

Bottom line: It's a personal decision.  It's a difficult decision.  I pray about it often.

I'm reminded of a cartoon where a man is standing on top of his house in a flood.  Several options present themselves to rescue him, but he turns those options away saying he is waiting for God to rescue him.  The flood finally gets to him and he drowns.  He is in Heaven asking "God, why didn't you save me?"  God replies "I sent a raft, a boat and a helicopter, what else did you need?"  I've said before this is a gift.  I'm thankful for the warning.

#BLESSED