Can-Her2

Hello again friends!!! Sorry I haven’t updated you in some time. This semester in school has been a lot. I also started a new job, which is a lot. But I have a few minutes and wanted to share some more of my journey with you.

I started my Tamoxifen 2 weeks after radiation was over. I, of course, researched all the side effects of Tamoxifen so that I would know what to look for and expect. I was set for the worst and was hoping for the best. In preparation for hot flashes, I purchased a watch-like thing to help regulate my body temperature. I was ready to start this, hopefully, last step in this journey. I had been on it for a month when I visited all my doctors. First up was my breast specialist. After the first of the year, I will get on an every 6 month schedule for mammograms. I have no idea how they will see anything in my left breast because it has to be all scar tissue. But they have their tricks, I guess. She and I discussed losing some weight because fat cells hold estrogen. I would love to lose weight, but we all know it is difficult. Also, we talked about Metformin. A doctor I know told me that there was some research out there that stabilizing insulin levels helps reduce cancer recurrence because the cancer cells won’t have glucose to feed off to grow. Made sense to me. My breast specialist said it also had weight loss benefits as well. So, I would talk to my primary care doctor about starting it. Next up was my radiation oncologist. We talked about how awful my skin was after radiation and that parts of my breast color were, we’ll say, ‘off.’ After our chat, he stated that he would not need to see me again unless there was a reoccurrence or something found in the other breast. And last for that week was my oncology NP. We discussed if I had any issues with Tamoxifen, which I had no side effects. That is a blessing in itself. We also talked about Metformin. She told me she had tried it for weight loss and couldn’t handle the side effects. But everything else was good to go. We devised a plan because my breast specialist needed to see me every 6 months; oncology would see me between those visits, so I would see either oncology or my breast specialist every 3 months. So, after that round-robin, I scheduled an appointment with my PCP. She was open to the discussion of Metformin but was hesitant to prescribe it because my blood sugars were historically excellent. She didn’t want to drop my blood sugar too low in the name of weight loss. I respect that. After we discussed alternatives, we decided to give Metformin a trial run. If I had symptoms of low blood sugar or other side effects after a month, I would stop taking it. As I write this, I have been on it for a week. So far, so good. We will see what the rest of the month brings. As always, thanks for being on this journey with me 🙂

Hello my friends!!! There has been a lot of stuff since my last post. Finished radiation is the biggest one! I also left my job, started a new job and school is back in session for both me and the boys. The jobs will be another post all to itself. Let’s talk about finishing radiation. I couldn’t have done any of it without my very supportive family. I was able to get my treatments in the afternoons, and come home and nap until dinner time. I fully believe that one thing of taking a nap after treatment is what saved me from major side effects. A bigger than anything, ‘Thank you’ goes out to the family.

I finished 20 radiation treatments. Rang my bell and started to have some pretty awful skin issues. I drank as much water as I could get into me, rested and when the skin issue was really bad, used the silvadene cream the doctor had prescribed for me. When he and I talked about the silvadene cream, he kept saying it would help with the pain. At the time, I wasn’t having any pain. The very next day, I had pain. Now a week 1/2 after my last treatment, still have some issues but no pain.

But of course it couldn’t go the whole time without something going wrong. On the Monday of what was supposed to be my last week of treatments, it was the start of my boost week. They needed to take an Xray prior to starting my treatments. The x-ray machine didn’t work after I got on the table and all set up. My reaction, oh well. Do I need to come on the following Monday to finish all my sessions, was my only question. The doctor was apologetic for the machine not working. I told him, it’s a machine and things happen. So instead of finishing on Friday I would have to come that next Monday to finish up. Which I think was blessing in disguise anyway because it gave my skin a few days in-between the boost treatments. Even with the short delay, I felt like my treatments went by so fast!!! More than likely, that was due to my work schedule. More on that is the next post. Thanks for all the support!!! You all have helped me more than you could ever know. Next chapter will be starting Tamoxifen 2 weeks after radiation is over.

First week of radiation is done! So let’s take this time to reflect back on the week and the Friday before. Let’s start with the Friday before treatment started. I went in for my ‘dry run’. They set me up just like I was going to have radiation to make any last minute changes to my positioning. Next, I got my tattoos. So I have three tattoos that are, let’s call them, ‘art’. These tattoos for radiation would not to make a statement or have ‘art’ in anyway. They were markers. I have three tattoos, I didn’t know what I was expecting, but what I got was not it. I now have two black dots. One under my left arm and one in my cleavage area. If you didn’t know what they were, they would just look like a mole. These tattoos hurt! Again, I have three tattoos. All hurt to some degree. So it’s not like I didn’t know that tattoos hurt. But these ones really hurt! It only lasted a minute. But again, not what I was expecting, although I didn’t know what to expect.

I started off feeling fatigued. Fatigue is a side effect of radiation, but not before treatment. I used it as a preparation. I would go home and take a nap after treatments if able. This will be an essential tactic in weeks 3 and 4. By the third treatment, I was feeling fine regarding fatigue. The skin was another matter. My lumpectomy scar was reacting quickly to the radiation. After the second treatment, my scar was red and hot. I put lotion on after every treatment after that. Which again will benefit me in the later weeks. Thursday is ‘Doctor Day.’ Every Thursday, I will see the doctor. I told him about my scar being ‘mad this past Thursday.’ He said he had never heard it put that way before, but it was all normal. On Fridays, they take X-rays to ensure everything is lining up and looking good. Starting week 2, ready to be halfway done!

Of course I can’t have too many things go right. So last week, totally forgot to get my pregnancy test to get my CT done. But, got the test done, got the CT done, they draw marks all over me, and have a treatment plan and a start date. I will be starting treatment in a few days. 20 treatments in total. Everyday, 5 days a week, for 4 weeks. I am truly blessed. I need to thank everyone that has prayed for me, thought of me and sent positive energy or love my way. My prayers have been answered and I feel truly blessed. I have 4 weeks ahead of me. My prayers now are for no radiation burns and as little fatigue as possible. There are others who have it a lot worst than this. I send them some love right now!

So now, let’s go into the CT scan visit. I have researched everything that would be going on with me. Mostly so I could prepare myself. I didn’t see this CT scan experience in anything I read. So I got to the center. They gave me a locker, so I have a place for my stuff over the next four weeks. I changed into a gown and sat in the waiting room. Other people had come and gone relatively quickly. Once I got into the CT room, this is where it was all new to me! They put me on the CT board. I won’t call it a bed or anything else; it was a board that goes into the CT machine. Next, they had me lay back on a bean bag-like thing. I then put both hands over my head and held onto a post. They then proceeded to place a device on my solar plex. They said this helped determine just how deep my deep breaths were. Which was a trick. They wanted me to simultaneously take a deep breath with my chest and abdomen. This was for two reasons when the lungs are filled, it moves the heart away from the treatment area. Two, when you also use your abdomen, it brings the diaphragm down, which also helps to move the heart out of the treatment area. It is a little challenging at first. But we all practiced a bit, and into the tube I went. When I had held my breath for the correct depth and time, they asked that I stay in the same position as the doctor read the CT. The doctor had to come in and look because they had placed a marker over my scar from my lumpectomy. After all, it was a more prominent scar. He said everything looked good and we would start treatment in a few days. Next, they drew on me!!! They took a red Sharpie marker and put marks where the breathing thing was and two other marking points. They said they would make those marks permanent when I returned for X-rays. Yes, like a tattoo. So they put clear band-aids over the marks until I return for the X-rays. Let me tell you, it will be a long couple of days! They have already started to itch. I have sensitive skin when it comes to that stuff. So here’s hoping they stay on! All said and done, it was a quick process. X-rays are the next stop on the adventure. Stay tuned.

I went to my oncology appointment a few days ago. Due to work things, I arrived at work in a not-so-great mood. Hindsight, I was utterly stressed about my appointment. I had a good idea of what they were going to say. My margins were clear. My lymph nodes were clear. Both of my surgeons said I wasn’t going to need chemo. But there is always that demon of doubt. I have worked very hard in my life to control that demon. I use confidence, my strong will, and the fuck it bucket. When that demon rises, I confidently and strongly throw him into the fuck it bucket and move on. There are times, like everyone, when the demon gets a little more air time than usual. When I was sitting in the waiting room to go see the doctor was one of those times. I started down the path of the ‘what if’s. What if I needed chemo? What if it makes me feel awful? What if radiation burns me like I saw happened to that poor lady in my breast cancer support group? What if Tamoxifen is horrible? What if I can’t SLEEP? All the things. As I sat there waiting to be taken into the room, I started to cry. I’m not typically a crier. I have my moments, but that is not my go-to. I am not the first or the last person to cry in that waiting room. But I didn’t want to mess up my eye makeup, geeze. I wasn’t thinking about crying that morning when I got ready for work and had all the mascara on. So I pulled myself together before the nurse came to get me. Had I not pulled myself together, I’m sure I wouldn’t be the first person the nurse had crying while taking their blood pressure. I just didn’t want to be one of them. So I waited for what seemed to be forever for the doctor to come on the iPad screen. She had an accent, and I was instantly afraid I wasn’t going to be able to understand her. It only took me one minute to settle into her accent, and everything went fine. No CHEMO!!!!! Because of the early stage, the margins and lymph nodes, chemo would not benefit me. I will need radiation and to take an estrogen blocker, Tamoxifen. Those will be later posts, for sure!

And the point of this post is that we have to know ourselves. If you want to have a good cry because that’s how you handle it, I’ll get you the tissues, girl. We must be aware of ourselves and know ourselves to understand what is ok and not for us. It’s essential to be self-aware for many different reasons. In those hard times is when it’s most important. It’s necessary when you have to be besties with your body to ensure everything is good the way it should be. When medicines and treatments start doing things to your body, you want to ensure it’s normal and ok. If you are not in tune how would you know if you need something else or something different? I am truly blessed to have the prognosis that I have. There are other pink sisters out there that have it way harder. I think of them often. I am truly blessed that in about 8 weeks or so, I’ll have moved from a warrior to a survivor. I still have radiation and starting to take a drug that could be hard to handle. I will be in tune with my body, my mind and my wellbeing to be able to communicate with my care team how both treatments are going. They want to make sure those treatments are right for me. I continue down this pink path and I’m so glad you have come along with me 🙂

Many of you know that I love me some Disney. So there will be more than one Disney reference going along this journey, for sure! When Moana meets TeKa on the ocean floor, she says, “But this does not define you. This is not who you are. You know who you are”. I feel that many people that get diagnosed with cancer end up being consumed by that diagnosis. The black cloud of despair, depression, and doubt rap itself around that person and poisons them. Some people like most things more than others. At the end of this week, I will have my oncology appointment. I am hoping to get a treatment plan at this appointment. With all that, my brain has gone from one extreme to the next and everywhere in between about what that treatment plan might look like. The remainder of this post is a bunch of thoughts, feeling, and other stuff I’ve been thinking about. Aka, a brain dump. It’s semi-schizophrenic (meaning delusional at times and all over the place), but therapy, enjoy.

That part of the Moana movie keeps coming up when I think about all the different ways my appointment might go; this diagnosis does not define me. This diagnosis is not who I am. I know who I am. I am a woman that has breast cancer. I am not breast cancer. I happen to have breast cancer. It’s not what makes up the best of me. So why would I let that be the leading thing about me? It’s just now a part of me. From the start of this journey, I have said that cancer should not be a word that’s whispered. No warrior even whispered their battle cry. No, they screamed it from the top of the mountain with a spear raised to the heavens. Some people physically recoiled, like I slapped them when I told them I had cancer. This should not be. How are you? How can I help? Where are you mentally? These should really be the responses. Personally, when someone says, “I’m sorry,” after hearing I have cancer, it feels weird. It feels negative. If someone wants to fall into the dark pit of depression, negative away (remind them that they can go there. Just not stay there). But if someone is trying to be positive, strong, and fierce, shouldn’t your response match that? The main point is that we must ask and be told what is needed. I will always say what I need. More people need to do the same. Some people sit and suffer in silence. Not me! If I’m suffering in any way, y’all will be hearing about it! And I know that many in my cheer squad would drive 3 hours to come and sit in silence with me if that is what I needed. And, as always, I thank you all.

Despite all the back and forth with my thoughts and feelings, I’m ready for whatever the treatment plan is. I will ride my IV pole into this battle shouting: “I am brave, I am bruised, I am who I’m meant to be, this is me. Look out, ’cause here I come. And I’m marching on to the beat I drum. I’m not scared to be seen. I make no apologies; this is me” – The Greatest Showman. Let’s take a moment to discuss being seen. Most know I like to be extra. So, of course, I have purchased items to help with that. Things like, warrior t-shirts, a warrior hat, and maybe even a sparkly pink pair of shoes that say warrior on them (I say maybe because my husband said I don’t need any more shoes. Love you honey). I will showcase my cancer diagnosis in a very me way. I will talk to anyone that wants to hear my crazy journey, how I got into my mindset, or to listen if they need another pink sister to hear their story. “We are glorious” and need to be seen in our way.

Got my pathology results back from my second surgery. Now, I have medical knowledge, been a nurse for a long time and consider myself fairly intelligent person. I have difficulty understanding the pathology report that get released to my healthcare app. It’s both a blessing and not so much, to have this information available when it is released. I like to know this information as soon as possible for my own processing. That being said, I find myself going down many rabbit hole with the information that I don’t understand. So, this post could definitely be one of those rabbit holes. I see the surgeon this week and will get information and my questions answered than. But for now, “I wonder how many miles I’ve fallen by this time? I must be getting somewhere near the center of the earth”. – Alice in wonderland.

From my second surgery, there were two specimens taken. The first one had two lymph nodes contained within it. The report states that the magnetic bead was not associated with a lymph node. It might have been placed between the lymph nodes to give direction during the surgery. Not sure, but I will ask at my appointment. The most important piece of this whole thing is that NO CANER was found in either of the two lymph nodes. That is cause for a grand celebration in itself. The second specimen was labeled as “axillary contents.” So again, this is all my interpretation, I think that maybe the surgeon thought it could be another lymph node and sent it. It was not a lymph node. It contained fatty tissue and skeletal muscle. My biggest question is, why do my lymph nodes look or don’t look like anyone else’s lymph nodes? I enjoy being unique and weird in my own way. But this is a little extreme. In the first surgery, the two specimens that were sent were thought to be lymph nodes by everyone in the OR. Multiple ways determined that they should have been lymph nodes, and they were not. At my preop appointment for my second surgery, they tested my lymphatic system to have a starting point to keep an eye on lymphoedema. If they hadn’t done that, I would think I had no lymphatic system. I know, dramatic. But this is where my brain goes at times. Realistic or not. The other thing that makes me go, hmmm, is that the incision for my second surgery is on the outer lateral part of my breast. It’s not even in my armpit, where lymph nodes are usually clustered. Me and my nonlymph system, Franken boob, will be on tour with the other medical freak show contestants this summer. Again, dramatic much? I am grateful to have surgeons and doctors who don’t consider me a medical mystery and leave it at that. I know I’m getting great care even with all these weirdo things. I am incredibly grateful to have not needed a total mastectomy and will love my Franken boob till the end. I often wonder about other women with breast cancer. If this is where my mind goes, having knowledge and experience, where do their minds go? Ultimately, no matter where my mind wanders, I write down my questions to ask the doctors, no matter how crazy they seem, and get the answers needed to come back to the surface of reality.

Had my second surgery yesterday (a Tuesday). I went to work, like normal (on Monday). Only, I was pretty distracted about having surgery in a facility that I didn’t know anyone. That has NEVER happened to me before. I have had my gallbladder out and had two ERCPs. All at facilities that I worked and knew the people well. My husband stated to me yesterday or the day before, that I like to have control over all situations. Of course I told him that can’t possibly to be true, insert eye roll (all FACTS! All of it!!!). The facility where I was having this done is about 2 1/2 hours away from my home. At this facility they have a place where people can stay if coming from out of town. We had booked a room there the week prior, not sure if we would need it or not. Surgery time are not given out until the day before and that would have been too late to reserve a room. On Monday when I received the phone call informing me that my arrival time would be for 9:30am. We could have stayed home and left early in the morning. I decided that I would feel less anxious if we heading out that night. So we hit the road around 6pm. We got there, checked in, got something to eat and settled in for the night watching some TV. The room reminded me a lot from my Army days, but met our need for a bed for the night. The next day, we got up ready. We are both pretty early raisers, so we had to entertain ourself for a couple of hours. We headed over the surgery center a little early. But looking for a change of scenery. I got checked in and we headed into the waiting room for short time. They took me back to the pre-op bay. I put on my grown and settled into the stretcher. And than the feels came. I didn’t want to be there. I was worried about having another complication. I was feeling very over whelmed about being at this facility to have yet another surgery. My very intuitive husband asked me what was I thinking about at that moment. I told him I didn’t want to be there and proceeded to start to cry. Which of course made him jump up and come give me a hug. I cried for a short time and told him that I was just having a moment. Which he said I was allowed to moments. Than we heard a kid screaming down the hall and I said that he was having a moment as well. Than the nurse came in and got me all ready to go. I had told the nurse that I wanted to go to the bathroom before heading back to the OR. My OR nursing friends know that a code yellow (peeping on the OR table) is no fun for anyone involved and I wanted to prevent that. She said she could make that happen. So around 11 when I was to go in, I told my husband that I was going to go to the bathroom and to help me get the warmer off and unplug my IV pole. Disclaimer!!!! I don’t recommend anyone doing what I did next. I stood by the door of the pre-op bay for a moment to see if one of the nurses would come by. They were very busy. So I put my call light on. Waited probably 1.7 seconds and told my husband that if someone came to the room to just let them know I went to the bathroom. I knew where the bathroom was because I had to use it on arrival for the old pregnancy test (negative of course). So I covered my bum and went to the bathroom. I came back to my room, the call light was still on. I turned it off and got back on the stretcher like nothing every happened (I don’t not recommend doing that. Nurses can get pretty mad if patient do that kind of stuff). About 45 minutes later, they came and brought me into the OR. Going a side tangent again. I have worked in ORs for a long time. I have always been so impressed when the surgeons would be in the room at the head of the bed when the patient was going off to sleep. Not all surgeons do this. Mine did. I will be forever grateful for that.

Let’s take a moment and talk about subconscious stress. I remember being wheeled to the recovery area and saying, ” I need a DNP project. If you guys have anything, let me know.” Do you think I’m stressing about my project or what!!! The next thing I remember is that my husband was at my side, and the nurse told me to take a deep breath. Shortly after, the surgeon told me she had taken two lymph nodes, and the preliminary results looked promising. Soon after, the nurse told me I could if I felt like getting up and dressed and getting out of there. I feel good enough to do that. So the hubs and I left and went to get something to eat. I had been hungry since before we left our room. The nurse had said to try lighter foods to start off with. I wasn’t having it. We started out for Buffalo Wild Wings. On the way there, we passed a Mexican restaurant. I said I was always up for Mexican. So we turned around and went there. I got a plate of nachos and a virgin margarita and enjoyed all of it!!! I had no issues, and it was delicious. Got a refill of ice for my ice pack and hit the road home. We got home, and I settled on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and a fancy drink (sprinkling cherry water, cherry juice, and cherries added in. I needed some cherries in my life). Then the hubs and I watched a movie, and I went to bed. Next on the list is the oncologist appointment at the end of next week to finally get a treatment plan.

I need to go on a slight tangent about the care I have gotten through my journey thus far. I have obtained world-class care from world-class facilities along the way. The only time that wasn’t top-notch in the journey was getting my old mammograms from the last place I had gotten them. That being said, that was definitely a one-off event. That facility, in my mind, is one of the best in patient care. Now, I brought to the attention of the appropriate people about that event, and some processes changed for the better. That is the way it is supposed to happen. I know there is a ‘movement’ to have zero harm to patients. That is not a realistic goal. Why? Because we are all human and people make mistakes. I have been in the medical field for over two decades. There are those stories that you hear on Dateline about nurses killing patients. Those are rare and few and far between. I have never met, worked with, or led anyone that internally made a mistake. Shit happens, and we fix it. We fix it so that it should never happen again with process and system changes. I am by no mean saying that there are not devastating mistakes that happen in the medical field. Again, not down playing the severity of any situation. There are people that feel I should be splitting mad for all the things that have happened to me so far on my journey. Not the way I want to spend my energy.

This journey is mine. Everyone handles things differently. I handle my journey with grace, not only for myself but for those that are caring for me in the best way possible. Some people have told me that they would have cried in bed for a week after learning they had cancer. If that’s how they needed to process it, great. That’s not me. My energy is precious to me. Laying in bed crying would not have served me well. It’s not the way I would want to spend my energy. I appreciate everyone sending me ideas, support, love, prayer, positive energy, all the things. I take those things and add them to my journey in a way that serves me. I am by no means downplaying that cancer doesn’t suck. I know I’ll have moments, bad days, and maybe even terrible days. But every day doesn’t have to be a bad day. People ask me how my family is handling all this. I tell them that they are a reflection of me. I’m dealing with this in the most positive way possible. They are taking it the same. My oldest son (who will be 16 shortly and is not excellent at expressing feelings) asked me one question about this journey. “Are you afraid of losing your hair?” I told him absolutely not, which was why I cut my hair short so that everyone could get used to my short hair. That way, it won’t be a big deal if I lose my hair. My youngest son is more interested in everything going on. He wanted to see my surgery incisions and asked all kinds of questions about it. I answer them to the best of my ability. My husband is super supportive, lovely, and attentive to all my needs. He and I have an understanding that if he is not dealing with something, having feelings about, or just feeling the feels, we will talk about it. Again, this part is my journey. That part is his. We are all on separate parallel paths that intersect often. Love, faith, grace, hope, and strength are the foundation of my journey. Thanks for coming along 😊  

The Nurse Curse is a real thing!!! I am a registered nurse. This Curse is known as the following: when a nurse has a medical procedure or enters a hospital as a patient, if something can go wrong, it WILL!!! All facts!

The day after my surgery, I did what all good patients do, rested, medicated, and iced. I took cat naps. I took my pain meds every 4 hours. I stayed on the couch with ice packs. On day two, I was feeling good. Didn’t need pain meds or ice packs as often. I was still a little sleepy from anesthesia and the surgery. But overall, I was feeling good. On day three or four, I noticed a fluid sound when descending the stairs. It was a seroma. Seromas are fluid that forms in the ‘dead space’ of a wound. Seromas are standard with this type of surgery. On day five in the morning while in bed, I reached for my alarm. I heard/felt (I was still asleep ok) a popping noise. My incision started to drain fluid. I called the next day and got in with the surgeon. The surgeon took a look and said it was normal and that if anything changed, to let them know. It continued to drain and by day 10, a Sunday, I was pretty sure it was infected. On day 11, called got in to see the surgeon, and it was infected. Hello, nurse curse!!! The surgeon put me on amoxicillin and cultured the wound. The surgeon also pushed on the breast to remove as much of the infection as possible. That hurt a bit! On day 13, the culture results came back that the only thing the organism was resistant to was penicillin. Hello, nurse curse! I got a new antibiotic that same day. On day 18, I went for a follow-up visit. The surgeon removed a dissolving stitch that was not dissolving because it wasn’t touching tissue, and now my incision is gaping open. I lovingly called it my boob pocket. The surgeon put some dry packing in it and covered it with gauze. Next, we reviewed the pathology from the lymph node biopsy. The report stated that, in the two samples that were sent, there was no lymph node tissue noted. The surgeon and I reviewed all things that were done and we couldn’t figure out how on earth that could even happen. Hello, nurse curse!!! The surgeon suggested that I go to a breast specialist. I would need to have lymph node tissue to ensure that the cancer did not spread. That critical information was required to make a treatment plan for me. I would be delayed in treatment until I could get this information. So another surgery for me. Hello, nurse curse!