Thoughts During Treatment

Work has started back up for me and I don't have much time to write. But, I did want to quickly write this down, as I keep this blog not only to educate others about the walk, but also to document my own journey.

A few days ago, I had another treatment.  They told me I only have 3 more to go (yay!).  As I'm sitting there hooked up to the IV poll, I look around and get a lump in my throat.  I'm the youngest person on chemo-row (the treatment room is set up with probably 25 recliners all in a row) by about 30 years.  The woman next to me is struggling.  She has a walker and hooked up to an IV poll.  Her obvious wig is all askew. She is trying to get the attention of one of the very busy nurses to help her make her way to the bathroom.  (I so badly want to help, but I'm plugged in and hooked up to my own IV poll, so I know I will just be in the way.)  She appears to be confused.  She's at treatment alone. It's absolutely heartbreaking. 

Another gentleman on chemo-row is getting treatment for a brain tumor. I overheard one of the chemos he is taking and I know it's going to be a rough couple of days for him. His wife says he's been battling this brain tumor for 15 years. 

Another woman, who is in a local Facebook group for women with breast cancer, is struggling.  She says the doctors tell her there is nothing left to do.  How do you wrap your head around that?  Do you admit defeat and vow to enjoy what time you have left? Or, do you keep on fighting, praying for a miracle, even if that means you spend precious hours on chemo-row and recovering from the assault chemo does to your body.  The quality of life for these individuals appear to be dwindling and where are they spending their time?  Getting treatment or worrying about this God awful disease.  

I know of another local mother who has young children.  Her breast cancer metastasized to her brain. How do you explain that to young children? Or even your husband who has to consider what life would be like without you?  You can cut off your breast, but not your brain.  That is a whole new level of Survivor.    

As the tears started to fall, my nurse came over. (God bless cancer nurses! All of mine have been amazing!) She looked into my eyes, handed me a tissue and held my hand.  Tears started to flow even harder.  All I can muster up through my tears and sniffles is "It isn't fair." She could see exactly what I saw and didn't need me to explain.  

I feel so out of place.  I think to myself "I don't belong here" but then I remember I DO belong here. I'm sitting on chemo-row, getting the same kinds of treatment these folks are.    I'm no different from them.  That is a scary thought! We are all trying to be Survivors, some of them are just having to fight harder than I've had to.

And that's where the guilt creeps in. When I leave, my plan is to get home and run, I can literally skip out of there if I want (and I just may after my last treatment).  The folks sitting next to me literally struggle to walk 10 feet to the bathroom.  My fight is almost done. His fight has lasted 15 years and no end in site. Who knows who will help her when she is feeling sick and exhausted from her treatment.  At times, I feel on top of the world, and then there are times where I feel so guilty for being spared with a treatable cancer that was caught relatively early.  

It's All in the Family

Damn it.

Once my sister tested BRCA+, my mom got on the phone and reached out to a lot of family.  She wanted to let them know about the gene and their possible risks.  We were all aware that ovarian cancer preyed on women in our family; now, we were able to put a name to it: BRCA+.

Of course, it's not a given that every person in the family is BRCA+.

Here are some stats:

• Everyone has a BRCA gene.  This genes function is to suppress tumors.  If you have a mutated BRCA gene then your chance of suppressing certain tumors is reduced (hence the increased risk of breast, ovarian, and pancreatic cancers). 
• Because of my twin sister Jill, we knew my mom had to be BRCA(mutation)+.  The mutation doesn't 'skip' generations; It must come from a direct lineage.  From this information, we can also assume my maternal grandmother (she died in her early 40's from ovarian cancer) carried the mutation.  And likely, her mother, who also died of ovarian cancer.    
• Given that Jill and I are identical and have the same genes, I too am BRCA+.  If we were fraternal twins, it would have been a 50-50 chance.  
• My brother has a 50% chance of carrying the mutation.  I'm no geneticist, just ask my high school science teacher Mr. Devore).  The BRCA1 mutation is located on chromosome 17.  It depends which gene Josh inherited.  If he inherited Dad's normal BRCA gene, he is not a carrier.  If he inherited Mom's mutated BRCA gene, then he is a carrier.  
• My son has a 50% chance of carrying the mutation.  Again, if he inherited the gene from me, he is at risk, if he inherited the gene from his dad, Mason (and any offspring) will be in the clear. 
• As a reminder, both men and women can carry the BRCA mutation.  Due to the increased risk of breast and ovarian cancers, it affects women more, however men can definitely be carriers, and affected with increased risk of pancreatic and prostate cancers. 

I was so hoping other women on my mom's side of the family would be spared being BRCA+.  My cousin, Amy (who used to spend hours babysitting me and braiding my long, tangled hair until her fingers were numb) recently took the test.  Her dad (Mom's brother, my uncle) had a 50% chance of having the gene.  If he is positive, then Amy, too, has a 50% chance of having it.  Decent odds of her not having it, right (Note, I'm also no math wiz).  Unfortunately, Amy found out she, too, has the mutated gene.  Just an example of how this gene can definitely be passed down through the male side of the family.  In her words, "that gene is a strong son of a bitch." Nicely, and accurately stated, Amy.  

Amy has some big decisions to make.  There is not set path that you must follow.  And while that is a blessing, it's also a curse.  Since Amy is a Canote, decisions don't necessarily come easily (Grandpa Canote was a notorious worrier).  But, the Canote's are also strong, so I know she's going to be just fine.  Along with being a worrier, Grandpa Canote was also an extremely faithful man.  No doubt he is looking out for us (and probably worried if there is worry in Heaven, which isn't likely) on the other side.  

Love you, Amy.  Can't wait for my hair to be long enough for you to braid again, just for old times sake.  

An Update

Sorry not sorry, I've been horrible at updating my blog this summer.  Honestly, I've just been busy.  Busy at the pool.  Busy running.  Busy in Florida.  Busy going on sno-cone runs with Mason.  I've been busy LIVING and LOVING life.

I'm feeling fantastic.  I still am getting treatments at the cancer center every three weeks, but other than those few hours, and when I put on my swimsuit to see my forever perky boobs I don't think about cancer much.  I didn't realize how much my thoughts were consumed with it until I started feeling better.  Goodness, worrying was basically a full time job.  Proud to say I'm in 'retirement' at least as far as the cancer worrying is concerned.  Feeling blessed!

Oh, and I am loving my little pixie cut!  My husband has always preferred long hair, but I'm thinking I may keep the pixie cut awhile... It's SO easy and I actually get a lot of compliments on it.  And, admittedly a couple of stares when my sister and I were walking down the beach hand in hand.  Let's just say, we no longer were easily identified as sisters...

We took a family trip to Florida and enjoyed a week at the beach with my husband's entire family.  Mase had a blast playing with his cousins.  Thanks Nannie and Poppy Snyder!  

This smile!   

As you can see, the kids didn't like the beach one bit.   

The required family photo on the beach in front of a sunset.  Richard was putting up a bit of a fight, but I pulled the cancer card and he finally submitted. 

This picture makes me smile, big! 

We've spent many hours at the pool with friends this summer. 

These kids ~ We are so blessed with wonderful friends here.  Our kids don't just play together, but our families genuinely care about each other.  Our village here in Lake Ozark is absolutely amazing.  

My friend Kristan went to a treatment with me.  My cheeks hurt from laughing so much that day. 

We told Mason to get dressed and we would go get a son-cone.  He came out in this.  He even kept the mask on as he was eating his sno-cone.  Goodness, I love this kid!