Today was the follow up consultation with my surgeon, Dr. Beaulieu. She had the results from my lymph node biopsy, bone scan, liver scan and chest X ray.
No matter how well I thought I had mentally prepared myself for whatever she was going throw in front of me, I felt nausea a couple of hours before my appointment. My friend Meta (who is like the captain of "Team Jen" and been at the last few appointments) told me had I said that I felt anything different, she would call me liar.
First piece of news: During surgery, she removed a lump about 2.2 x1.9 x1.9 cm, another benign lump, a minimum of 1 mm of tissue surrounding the lump and 5 (2 were stuck together) lymph nodes.
The verdict?
Two lymph nodes have tested positive for cancer but she will recommend that I do not have surgery. Ultimately the Oncologist makes the final decision. 2-3 affected lymph nodes are apparently a grey area and she sees there being greater risks involved with surgery vs the benefits of removing the lymph nodes. Since it had already been decided that I would be having chemo as a preventative and radiation was a no-brainer (just widen the area to target), she doesn't think it will increase or decrease the chance of cancer spreading....I hope to God its a "no" to surgery because an incision in your armpit is one huge pain in the ass and don't even get me started about feeling useless. Yesterday was my first day back at the gym and it was a big accomplishment to lift 3 lbs over my head.
Now I wait to hear from the Oncologist and it looks like I will be starting treatments by the end of November....Bring it on!
In the interim, the German Virgo will be back in preparation mode....
Now I really have to learn how to take it easy. That will be the toughest part. Just my luck, my immune system is going to bottom out during cold/flu season so Good Time Jenny will be on sabbatical. I have already informed work that I have no intentional of sitting idle so find me something to do from home....and if I want to go into the office, they can all wear masks!
One final piece of news: My lungs and liver are "exceptional"....Musta got the test results mixed up with someone else
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Monday, October 28, 2013
Kick Off Gurl
The night before my surgery my friend Karma asked if I would be interested in participating in a fundraiser for breast cancer. Her boyfriend, Phil coaches college (CEGEP) football and their last home game of the season, raises money annually for the Quebec Breast Cancer Foundation and I would be their kick off girl.
At first I wasn't overly keen on the idea. I didn't want the attention; especially from strangers. Nor am I huge "Pink Ribbon" gal but on the flip side no one is ever going to ask me to hang out with college football players; young enough to be my sons when I'm healthy...so why the hell not??
A few weeks ago, I had lunch with another woman who recently was treated for breast cancer and she said something that really hit home for me. She thought the football game was a fantastic idea because even though I have cancer, I have a healthy, happy, positive image and people need to see that side to the illness.
Eventually I let Karma make the executive decision for me. But once she did, I decided that this blog, my photos with Laura or any other related activities should demonstrate that cancer doesn't have to be related to images of illness, or people with no hair or people dying. I know I mentioned it in an earlier post but it really bears repeating
JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE CANCER DOESN'T MEAN YOU ARE DYING OR NEED TO LIVE LIFE LIKE YOU ARE SICK OR DYING
We are all dying. Mortality is part of life and I could get easily hit by a bus tomorrow morning or live until I am 100. So could anyone else.
I can still have fun and do all the things I normally do. I just try to keep a few nights alone and go to bed a bit earlier. Nothing has changed about me nor do I expect people to treat me differently or "baby" me. Maybe it will all change when I start treatments but I will cross that bridge when I come to it
I digress.
So Saturday evening was the big game...Ice cold and raining. The plan was to be introduced by the announcer; along with a surgeon from the Gatineau Hospital. The surgeon makes a brief speech, I shake the players' hands and kick the ball out of the surgeon's hands.
As I start shaking hands, one of the players says to me with a grin "You can have which ever one of us you want"....LOL Now that is the exact image I have been trying to portray. No, not a cougar (although I felt like one) but happy sexy rock star!
Now I have never even been to a football game before. I watched the Super Bowl once and was bored. This game I was nervous about kicking the ball. I didn't want to hit the surgeon (I am sure his career flashed before his eyes as I lifted my toe) Nor did I want to kick and wipe out on my back in front of everyone. I wore my motorcycle boots so either scenario was possible. But my biggest mistake was aiming to kick the wrong way.
Anyways, it went well, I kicked the ball, I stayed standing and the surgeon can continue to work. I had a lot of fun and when the weather is warmer, I may go out and actually watch a full game next year.
On Sunday, I went to church for the first time since my surgery. Now as I mentioned in my last post; I made it in the Ladysmith social notes section of the community newspaper. So everyone knew what was going on in my life. Plus my parents are regular church folk and have been quite open about things. What blew me away was when I sat down, a few people came and asked how I was feeling. Now please don't get me wrong...I appreciate the concern and am extremely grateful that I have an incredible support network of family/ friends and a caring community who would lend me a helping hand; but what is with the sad faces??? Everyone who asked how I was feeling, had a concerned or sad face and followed up with a comment "Well, you look well"
What the hell am I supposed to look like?? Ok, take the "Hell" out. I was sitting in God's house.
Maybe I am supposed to be an evangelist and preach the word that cancer can include vibrant, happy people too
At first I wasn't overly keen on the idea. I didn't want the attention; especially from strangers. Nor am I huge "Pink Ribbon" gal but on the flip side no one is ever going to ask me to hang out with college football players; young enough to be my sons when I'm healthy...so why the hell not??
A few weeks ago, I had lunch with another woman who recently was treated for breast cancer and she said something that really hit home for me. She thought the football game was a fantastic idea because even though I have cancer, I have a healthy, happy, positive image and people need to see that side to the illness.
Eventually I let Karma make the executive decision for me. But once she did, I decided that this blog, my photos with Laura or any other related activities should demonstrate that cancer doesn't have to be related to images of illness, or people with no hair or people dying. I know I mentioned it in an earlier post but it really bears repeating
JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE CANCER DOESN'T MEAN YOU ARE DYING OR NEED TO LIVE LIFE LIKE YOU ARE SICK OR DYING
We are all dying. Mortality is part of life and I could get easily hit by a bus tomorrow morning or live until I am 100. So could anyone else.
I can still have fun and do all the things I normally do. I just try to keep a few nights alone and go to bed a bit earlier. Nothing has changed about me nor do I expect people to treat me differently or "baby" me. Maybe it will all change when I start treatments but I will cross that bridge when I come to it
I digress.
So Saturday evening was the big game...Ice cold and raining. The plan was to be introduced by the announcer; along with a surgeon from the Gatineau Hospital. The surgeon makes a brief speech, I shake the players' hands and kick the ball out of the surgeon's hands.
As I start shaking hands, one of the players says to me with a grin "You can have which ever one of us you want"....LOL Now that is the exact image I have been trying to portray. No, not a cougar (although I felt like one) but happy sexy rock star!
Now I have never even been to a football game before. I watched the Super Bowl once and was bored. This game I was nervous about kicking the ball. I didn't want to hit the surgeon (I am sure his career flashed before his eyes as I lifted my toe) Nor did I want to kick and wipe out on my back in front of everyone. I wore my motorcycle boots so either scenario was possible. But my biggest mistake was aiming to kick the wrong way.
Anyways, it went well, I kicked the ball, I stayed standing and the surgeon can continue to work. I had a lot of fun and when the weather is warmer, I may go out and actually watch a full game next year.
On Sunday, I went to church for the first time since my surgery. Now as I mentioned in my last post; I made it in the Ladysmith social notes section of the community newspaper. So everyone knew what was going on in my life. Plus my parents are regular church folk and have been quite open about things. What blew me away was when I sat down, a few people came and asked how I was feeling. Now please don't get me wrong...I appreciate the concern and am extremely grateful that I have an incredible support network of family/ friends and a caring community who would lend me a helping hand; but what is with the sad faces??? Everyone who asked how I was feeling, had a concerned or sad face and followed up with a comment "Well, you look well"
What the hell am I supposed to look like?? Ok, take the "Hell" out. I was sitting in God's house.
Maybe I am supposed to be an evangelist and preach the word that cancer can include vibrant, happy people too
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
One of the Regulars
It's Official!
I am a regular at the Montfort Hospital.
I can take anyone on a guided tour, I know exactly where to go, I finish the orderly's sentences with regards to where I change, where the waiting rooms are, etc. Not only do I recognize faces but they now recognize me in the hall and some have asked how my surgery was. I even scored packets of gauze to help with the chaffing.
Then today I thought for a split second I achieved the golden status of parking privileges. I had a bone scan today and when I arrived for my appointment, was told they were running behind and to return in 45 minutes. I went to the parking pay machine (of course I had to show someone where to insert their ticket and money first) and when I inserted my ticket, it spit it back out with a message "Have a nice day" SCORE!
I enquired about my acquiring my bone scan images. I thought it would be really cool to have a full image of my skeleton.
I assume over the next month I will be moving on to another hospital for treatments and my visits to the Montfort will become less and less. I will miss that place as the care has been excellent, and the compassion and sincerity of everyone I have come in contact with who works there is incredible.
I am a regular at the Montfort Hospital.
I can take anyone on a guided tour, I know exactly where to go, I finish the orderly's sentences with regards to where I change, where the waiting rooms are, etc. Not only do I recognize faces but they now recognize me in the hall and some have asked how my surgery was. I even scored packets of gauze to help with the chaffing.
Then today I thought for a split second I achieved the golden status of parking privileges. I had a bone scan today and when I arrived for my appointment, was told they were running behind and to return in 45 minutes. I went to the parking pay machine (of course I had to show someone where to insert their ticket and money first) and when I inserted my ticket, it spit it back out with a message "Have a nice day" SCORE!
I enquired about my acquiring my bone scan images. I thought it would be really cool to have a full image of my skeleton.
I assume over the next month I will be moving on to another hospital for treatments and my visits to the Montfort will become less and less. I will miss that place as the care has been excellent, and the compassion and sincerity of everyone I have come in contact with who works there is incredible.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
There Are Others Out There
I had lunch on Friday with a woman in my line of work who was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2010. I have known her for a while, we have similar work ethics and I have a great deal of respect for her. I remember at the time, she had mentioned she took very little time off work. So when the time was right for me, I reached out to her.
It was exactly what I needed. She told me her story and I picked up a few little tips/tricks for myself. I walked away feeling really confident that I can get through this. Not that I have any doubts
I had talked to a couple of other women who have been super fantastic at providing me with information and answering all my questions, with out telling me to back off. Its good to know I have women within my age range who have gone through this that I can talk to.
I may be living in a fantasy but in my world, cancer, treatments, etc isn't going to really affect me and my day to day activities that much. Sure I may not be able to keep my usual hectic active lifestyle but that is a good thing. I have been trying to slow down for years. I need to learn how to go to bed earlier too. And if I start chemo - as my aunt pointed out today - Off the sauce. But I am not a big drinker; although I went out in style a week before surgery (klassy with a capital K style)
But I can't imagine it affecting work very much. Maybe take a little time off for appointments and work from home when I feel sick. In fact, I think I have been more focused the past couple weeks just to prove the point I can do this.
I also cannot imagine any type of treatment making me lose my appetite. I am making an honest effort to eat healthier and ate all sorts of veggies this weekend. I even added tuna and baby spinach to Kraft Dinner. It was also a full moon - enough said.
After my Friday lunch, I decided I was ready to "Come out." I already told a lot of people but the rumour mill was starting. That isn't a big deal as I am not used to being private. I grew up in a small town and everyone knows everyone's business. Heck, I even made it in the town newspaper's social notes column. I just wanted everyone to know in case they see me walking around clutching my boob because its sore post surgery and I walk with a bounce or when I don't go out as often, or if I don't respond to people's emails and texts right away or if/when it does come to chemo people do not wonder why I am suddenly a brunette. It should not be a big deal. But I also do not want a pity party, people feeling sorry for me or insincere "if there is anything I can do..." So the perfect way was using Laura Kovacs Photography Facebook page. She had posted some pictures from our pre surgery shoot and wrote a very nice blurp about the story behind the shoot. Initially, I didn't want to be tagged but decided afterwards for an "old lady who was slightly hungover post Oktoberfest" I look pretty darn good and would rather have those images attached to being diagnosed with cancer as opposed to people imagining a sickly image. Before I was told I had cancer, that is what I always pictured.
So this week is bone scan week and a little more physical activity. Next week is post surgery consult to see if it has hit the lymph nodes, hopefully can return to the gym and bring the pets home. I totally get it now - all the health care professionals I have been in contact with, plus a number of friends who have experienced cancer, kept telling me to get through everything one step at a time without looking too far ahead. I never thought I would say this but I am taking things one day at a time.
It was exactly what I needed. She told me her story and I picked up a few little tips/tricks for myself. I walked away feeling really confident that I can get through this. Not that I have any doubts
I had talked to a couple of other women who have been super fantastic at providing me with information and answering all my questions, with out telling me to back off. Its good to know I have women within my age range who have gone through this that I can talk to.
I may be living in a fantasy but in my world, cancer, treatments, etc isn't going to really affect me and my day to day activities that much. Sure I may not be able to keep my usual hectic active lifestyle but that is a good thing. I have been trying to slow down for years. I need to learn how to go to bed earlier too. And if I start chemo - as my aunt pointed out today - Off the sauce. But I am not a big drinker; although I went out in style a week before surgery (klassy with a capital K style)
But I can't imagine it affecting work very much. Maybe take a little time off for appointments and work from home when I feel sick. In fact, I think I have been more focused the past couple weeks just to prove the point I can do this.
I also cannot imagine any type of treatment making me lose my appetite. I am making an honest effort to eat healthier and ate all sorts of veggies this weekend. I even added tuna and baby spinach to Kraft Dinner. It was also a full moon - enough said.
After my Friday lunch, I decided I was ready to "Come out." I already told a lot of people but the rumour mill was starting. That isn't a big deal as I am not used to being private. I grew up in a small town and everyone knows everyone's business. Heck, I even made it in the town newspaper's social notes column. I just wanted everyone to know in case they see me walking around clutching my boob because its sore post surgery and I walk with a bounce or when I don't go out as often, or if I don't respond to people's emails and texts right away or if/when it does come to chemo people do not wonder why I am suddenly a brunette. It should not be a big deal. But I also do not want a pity party, people feeling sorry for me or insincere "if there is anything I can do..." So the perfect way was using Laura Kovacs Photography Facebook page. She had posted some pictures from our pre surgery shoot and wrote a very nice blurp about the story behind the shoot. Initially, I didn't want to be tagged but decided afterwards for an "old lady who was slightly hungover post Oktoberfest" I look pretty darn good and would rather have those images attached to being diagnosed with cancer as opposed to people imagining a sickly image. Before I was told I had cancer, that is what I always pictured.
So this week is bone scan week and a little more physical activity. Next week is post surgery consult to see if it has hit the lymph nodes, hopefully can return to the gym and bring the pets home. I totally get it now - all the health care professionals I have been in contact with, plus a number of friends who have experienced cancer, kept telling me to get through everything one step at a time without looking too far ahead. I never thought I would say this but I am taking things one day at a time.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Curse of the Blondes
I learned an interesting fact today: In addition to burning like a St Hubert Chicken in the sun, fair skin blondes have a tendency to bruise and bleed more than the average person.
Area 51 which is what I will be referring to my right breast and arm pit for the next few weeks is extremely sore, swollen and I have tingling sensations down my arm. I managed to squeeze in an appointment with my surgeon today...To make sure I am just being a wimp.
You know its bad when you remove your gown and the surgeon makes a face. The bruising is more excessive than the usual and there has been some bleeding on the inside. But to go back inside the wounds will not necessarily fix the problem and could potentially risk infection.
The prescription? Suck it up buttercup
Oh and all the Advil and Aspirin I have been taking the past 6 days makes the situation worse. It thins blood. I never even looked at my Tylenol bottle.
The Tensor bandage also provides relief by keeping the area tight. I already walk around with that bandage as Linus walks around with his blanket but decided I need an assortment. A- there is no such thing as colored tensor bandages B- drug stores only carry bandages 5 metres long. The one they gave me from the hospital is longer than me. So I am wrapped back up and whatever boobs I have left, get pushed downwards. At least that is what I keep telling myself. It isn't a gut, its like pushing toothpaste around a tube.
But I discovered that my vodka bottle I keep in the freezer fits perfectly into my armpit and makes the perfect compress.
Area 51 which is what I will be referring to my right breast and arm pit for the next few weeks is extremely sore, swollen and I have tingling sensations down my arm. I managed to squeeze in an appointment with my surgeon today...To make sure I am just being a wimp.
You know its bad when you remove your gown and the surgeon makes a face. The bruising is more excessive than the usual and there has been some bleeding on the inside. But to go back inside the wounds will not necessarily fix the problem and could potentially risk infection.
The prescription? Suck it up buttercup
Oh and all the Advil and Aspirin I have been taking the past 6 days makes the situation worse. It thins blood. I never even looked at my Tylenol bottle.
The Tensor bandage also provides relief by keeping the area tight. I already walk around with that bandage as Linus walks around with his blanket but decided I need an assortment. A- there is no such thing as colored tensor bandages B- drug stores only carry bandages 5 metres long. The one they gave me from the hospital is longer than me. So I am wrapped back up and whatever boobs I have left, get pushed downwards. At least that is what I keep telling myself. It isn't a gut, its like pushing toothpaste around a tube.
But I discovered that my vodka bottle I keep in the freezer fits perfectly into my armpit and makes the perfect compress.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Surgery, Recovery and CSI
Today was my first feeble attempt at going back to reality; post surgery......may want to take another stab at it again next week. Pretty sure I won't be back in the saddle by tomorrow
Surgery went well. I made it to the hospital in time and of course everyone was super cool and helpful. I could tell my father wanted to do something for me so I asked if he would take me to Kim's in the morning. He arrived in plenty of time but was trying to rush me. "It doesn't take 15 minutes to get to Kim's place"
When you drive 15 km below the speed limit, it does.
Even the cats tried to help. They woke me up in plenty of time to get ready and even gave me a little gift: A live mouse. Of course, I didn't have time to deal with it, so I let them chase the mouse in and out of the bedroom while I was getting dressed. My gift eventually escaped.
God love Kim and Shawn. They got up before the crack of dawn to take me to the hospital, checked me in and stuck around town until I was ready to go home.
At the hospital, I changed into my little gown but had difficulty in understanding the purpose of two pairs of paper slippers. I misunderstood the nurse's instructions and put one pair on my feet, tried to put my flip flops back on and then put the second pair over everything. No No - the nurse meant a pair for my feet and a pair to cover my flip flops when I put them in the bag with my clothes. "I have not had anything to eat or drink so please do not give me difficult instructions without any coffee."
Just my luck, I am set up in front of the nurses' station. I watch them drink coffee like I'm watching porn. I contemplated rolling a nurse for her Timmies
Kim pulled through with the book! I highly recommend Chelsea Handler's "Are You There God, It"s Me Chelsea" It was so funny that while I was lying in a gurney waiting for a CT Scan in front of 4 people, I burst out laughing. And if you know me, I don't chuckle quietly.
So I get injected with something, take some photos of the area and asked to lie still. Naturally that is when you get an itch somewhere. Then I dozed off and startled myself awake..God you feel like a loser when that happens. Especially when you are being watched.
Surgery was delayed by an hour and a bit. The orderly wrapped me up in blankets, took me by wheel chair to the operating room which wasn't ready. I wait in the hall as people are walking in and out of the room. That is when I over hear "We haven't had a heart attack here in a while" Great...That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
Finally he takes me into the room and helps me up onto bed that has two side panels sticking out for my arms. I ask the orderly if he has ever heard the song Jesus Christ Pose by Soundgarden because that is playing in my head. I also warn a nurse that if I wake up with Stigmata, I will know they did more than remove a lump.
I start telling everyone that this is my first surgery and it certainly doens't look the same as it does on TV. The room is bigger, brighter and no one is talking about who is sleeping with who at the hospital - Plus I have no make up and if this was TV I would look much better. I guess they had enough of my rambling because someone injects me and the last thing I remember saying is "Oh yeah, that's the good shit"
The surgery went well. They removed the lump, some extra tissue and 4 lymph nodes. She even saw another lump and took it out at the same time. Afterwards, I rested, ate a cookie, read my medical files (Note: Surgeon called me a lovely person) and was told I would be peeing green for the next 24 hours. Now I wait aprx. 2 weeks to see if it has traveled to the lymph nodes (and if I need another surgery) and hopefully by the end of Novemeber learn what my treatment will be.
Kim fetched me a few hours laters. One thing I don't understand is why the hospital would ask an average person to wheel me out. I love Kim and she is a great driver but she will never have a career as an orderly. She rammed me into walls, got her pant legs caught in the wheel and had me stuck in a door with another lady in a wheel chair.
I have to say my experience at the Montfort has been nothing but positive. The staff have been so friendly and helpful throughout this whole process, moved me through the system very quickly and have given me the best care. I even received a nice email from the nurse who answers all my surgery questions just before I went in.
Lo and behold the Holy Grail was waiting for me in the car! An all dressed Harvey's cheeseburger. I inhaled it and then inhaled Gravol about 45 minutes later on the drive home.
The first evening, my cousin was assigned as nurse. She had not arrived when I got home so I went to bed and my father waited around. By the time I woke up, Susie had arrived and was settling in.
"What are you doing up?" She asks as I walk out of the bedroom "Jennifer, I thought you were going to be out like a light and I was looking forward to lying on the couch and reading magazines."
Her bedside manner amazes me.
Day one went really well. I vacuumed, made a cheesecake and did 20 crunches. By night time, I was sitting at the table with an ice pack. Part of the problem with wearing a tensor bandage around your boobs is that they are flat and your stomach looks bigger. Hence, I decided I needed to do crunches. One thing cancer is going to teach me is how to take it easy. That will be another "journey"
Second night went well, except my overweight cat decided to walk across my chest. Despite he exceeds the weight restrictions, he got tossed out pretty quickly. He moved to my cousin's door and "sang the song of his people"
I thought having surgery before Thanksgiving was an excellent idea, giving me an extra day to recover. What I didn't realize was that it also meant having my family over for dinner while I stayed sober. God help me if I start chemo before Christmas!
Monday and Tuesday were quieter days, spent lying on the couch, eating leftovers and watching three seasons of CSI. I even started to dream abut investigating dead people
One of my other cousins who is a nurse helped remove the dressing. It was comforting to hear her say, the surgeon did an excellent job because the incisions are quite small and clean, seems to be healing really well and likely won't lose much shape on that side. I couldn't tell because I can't see past the bruising. My boob and everything around it looks like it went through an old fashioned wringer washer. Sports Illustrated will not be calling me anytime soon for their swimsuit edition.
I decided I was well enough to return to work today. I hitched a ride into town and settled in at the office. After the first hour I realized that I had not lifted anything heavier than a remote for the past 2 days. By the end of the day, I was swollen, sore and numb and am now in bed with pain killers and my beloved tnesor bandage. Will take it a bit easier tomorrow.
The hardest thing for me is to not be able to do stuff by myself. Its difficult when I have to ask Gailene to take my garbage to the curb, or I have to leave my cats at the farm because I can't lift the carrier or Kim has to drive me to work because I can't drive a car for a week or Mirella has to take me grocery shopping and push the cart. I know I will recover quickly and will soon be able to help everyone out or pay them back with some act of kindness. It just frustrates me to be this way right now and I feel selfish to ask for help. I dated a midget many years ago who used to call me a "Princess" in a very derogatory way. He claimed I wasn't capable of dealing with stressful situations or to do things on my own. Boy, not only was he short but also stupid.
Surgery went well. I made it to the hospital in time and of course everyone was super cool and helpful. I could tell my father wanted to do something for me so I asked if he would take me to Kim's in the morning. He arrived in plenty of time but was trying to rush me. "It doesn't take 15 minutes to get to Kim's place"
When you drive 15 km below the speed limit, it does.
Even the cats tried to help. They woke me up in plenty of time to get ready and even gave me a little gift: A live mouse. Of course, I didn't have time to deal with it, so I let them chase the mouse in and out of the bedroom while I was getting dressed. My gift eventually escaped.
God love Kim and Shawn. They got up before the crack of dawn to take me to the hospital, checked me in and stuck around town until I was ready to go home.
At the hospital, I changed into my little gown but had difficulty in understanding the purpose of two pairs of paper slippers. I misunderstood the nurse's instructions and put one pair on my feet, tried to put my flip flops back on and then put the second pair over everything. No No - the nurse meant a pair for my feet and a pair to cover my flip flops when I put them in the bag with my clothes. "I have not had anything to eat or drink so please do not give me difficult instructions without any coffee."
Just my luck, I am set up in front of the nurses' station. I watch them drink coffee like I'm watching porn. I contemplated rolling a nurse for her Timmies
Kim pulled through with the book! I highly recommend Chelsea Handler's "Are You There God, It"s Me Chelsea" It was so funny that while I was lying in a gurney waiting for a CT Scan in front of 4 people, I burst out laughing. And if you know me, I don't chuckle quietly.
So I get injected with something, take some photos of the area and asked to lie still. Naturally that is when you get an itch somewhere. Then I dozed off and startled myself awake..God you feel like a loser when that happens. Especially when you are being watched.
Surgery was delayed by an hour and a bit. The orderly wrapped me up in blankets, took me by wheel chair to the operating room which wasn't ready. I wait in the hall as people are walking in and out of the room. That is when I over hear "We haven't had a heart attack here in a while" Great...That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
Finally he takes me into the room and helps me up onto bed that has two side panels sticking out for my arms. I ask the orderly if he has ever heard the song Jesus Christ Pose by Soundgarden because that is playing in my head. I also warn a nurse that if I wake up with Stigmata, I will know they did more than remove a lump.
I start telling everyone that this is my first surgery and it certainly doens't look the same as it does on TV. The room is bigger, brighter and no one is talking about who is sleeping with who at the hospital - Plus I have no make up and if this was TV I would look much better. I guess they had enough of my rambling because someone injects me and the last thing I remember saying is "Oh yeah, that's the good shit"
The surgery went well. They removed the lump, some extra tissue and 4 lymph nodes. She even saw another lump and took it out at the same time. Afterwards, I rested, ate a cookie, read my medical files (Note: Surgeon called me a lovely person) and was told I would be peeing green for the next 24 hours. Now I wait aprx. 2 weeks to see if it has traveled to the lymph nodes (and if I need another surgery) and hopefully by the end of Novemeber learn what my treatment will be.
Kim fetched me a few hours laters. One thing I don't understand is why the hospital would ask an average person to wheel me out. I love Kim and she is a great driver but she will never have a career as an orderly. She rammed me into walls, got her pant legs caught in the wheel and had me stuck in a door with another lady in a wheel chair.
I have to say my experience at the Montfort has been nothing but positive. The staff have been so friendly and helpful throughout this whole process, moved me through the system very quickly and have given me the best care. I even received a nice email from the nurse who answers all my surgery questions just before I went in.
Lo and behold the Holy Grail was waiting for me in the car! An all dressed Harvey's cheeseburger. I inhaled it and then inhaled Gravol about 45 minutes later on the drive home.
The first evening, my cousin was assigned as nurse. She had not arrived when I got home so I went to bed and my father waited around. By the time I woke up, Susie had arrived and was settling in.
"What are you doing up?" She asks as I walk out of the bedroom "Jennifer, I thought you were going to be out like a light and I was looking forward to lying on the couch and reading magazines."
Her bedside manner amazes me.
Day one went really well. I vacuumed, made a cheesecake and did 20 crunches. By night time, I was sitting at the table with an ice pack. Part of the problem with wearing a tensor bandage around your boobs is that they are flat and your stomach looks bigger. Hence, I decided I needed to do crunches. One thing cancer is going to teach me is how to take it easy. That will be another "journey"
Second night went well, except my overweight cat decided to walk across my chest. Despite he exceeds the weight restrictions, he got tossed out pretty quickly. He moved to my cousin's door and "sang the song of his people"
I thought having surgery before Thanksgiving was an excellent idea, giving me an extra day to recover. What I didn't realize was that it also meant having my family over for dinner while I stayed sober. God help me if I start chemo before Christmas!
Monday and Tuesday were quieter days, spent lying on the couch, eating leftovers and watching three seasons of CSI. I even started to dream abut investigating dead people
One of my other cousins who is a nurse helped remove the dressing. It was comforting to hear her say, the surgeon did an excellent job because the incisions are quite small and clean, seems to be healing really well and likely won't lose much shape on that side. I couldn't tell because I can't see past the bruising. My boob and everything around it looks like it went through an old fashioned wringer washer. Sports Illustrated will not be calling me anytime soon for their swimsuit edition.
I decided I was well enough to return to work today. I hitched a ride into town and settled in at the office. After the first hour I realized that I had not lifted anything heavier than a remote for the past 2 days. By the end of the day, I was swollen, sore and numb and am now in bed with pain killers and my beloved tnesor bandage. Will take it a bit easier tomorrow.
The hardest thing for me is to not be able to do stuff by myself. Its difficult when I have to ask Gailene to take my garbage to the curb, or I have to leave my cats at the farm because I can't lift the carrier or Kim has to drive me to work because I can't drive a car for a week or Mirella has to take me grocery shopping and push the cart. I know I will recover quickly and will soon be able to help everyone out or pay them back with some act of kindness. It just frustrates me to be this way right now and I feel selfish to ask for help. I dated a midget many years ago who used to call me a "Princess" in a very derogatory way. He claimed I wasn't capable of dealing with stressful situations or to do things on my own. Boy, not only was he short but also stupid.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Downsizing
So tomorrow is the big day…I like to refer
it as “Downsizing” At least that is what
I wrote in the comments box when I booked the day off work.
It’s been almost two months since this process started and although I have been pushed through the system very quickly, it feels like it has taken forever to reach this stage. I know I will be relieved to have the bad parts of me taken out.
I am always open to suggestions
My surgeon is supposed to be an artist and leave minimal scarring so there may not be a good opportunity for a story. I also asked if they could photograph me cut open because I thought I could use the images in a collage…. I get the feeling the Montfort does not support my artwork because I thought it was a compromise when they wouldn’t return the left over pieces of the lump after they finished testing.
My biggest post-surgery fear isn’t pain but the fact I may not be able to shower for a few days. Being a little OCD with cleanliness and showering an average of 3 times a day, I have no idea how I will survive. I practiced not getting my side wet and think I have mastered it. The top questions I have prepared for tomorrow is when can I use deodorant, shave, shower and wear a bra
I have to admit, I was a smidgen (and I say “smidgen”) disappointed that it wasn’t a full mastectomy with OHIP covering implants. I mean who wouldn’t want to be 40 and walk around in public without a bra?? But after I read the procedures of a mastectomy – am pretty grateful I don’t have to deal with drainage and stuff …**shudder
The past week I have spent preparing. I now know what it’s like for expecting mothers to “nest.” I have been cleaning, re-arranging furniture, cooking, purchasing trashy magazines, sports bras etc. I felt it was necessary to move all my furniture and scrub the floors underneath it, rip off all bedding, duvet covers, etc. I even did a little “Before” photo shoot with Laura so I remember what a full rack looks like. My German Virgo side has shone through
I also have my little bag prepared for the hospital which includes socks to keep my feet warm, iPod and reading material. I wonder if Five Finger Death Punch will increase my heart rate/blood pressure or help me relax…We shall see.
Speaking of which, Kim and her hubby are the official drivers tomorrow and doing a McDonald’s drive thru after. I am very grateful for their support (as I am with everyone.) There were countless volunteers to take me to and from the hospital. I think my friends just want the entertainment value of watching me perform on whatever drugs I have upon leaving the hospital. Some of you may wonder where my parents are through all of this. Trust me, I don’t want my parents driving me. First of all we would have to leave at 4 AM in order to arrive at the hospital for 8 AM given the way my dad drives; I also think I am a better city driver than dad even if I am post-surgery, jacked up on Morphine and finally, they have to bring the dog everywhere they go and I cannot imagine trying to get a peaceful drive home with Cujo snarling beside me…No Thank You. Would rather take a bus or hitch hike.
I would have enjoyed arriving for surgery
in true Ab Fab style such as the episode where Eddie has surgery to remove an acupuncture
needle from her foot and Patsy has a chemical peel. But since they don’t serve alcohol in the hospital,
and I cannot show up in jewelry, make up or even deodorant; I gave up making an
effort. They will be lucky if I brush my
teeth.
Anyways, I hope the process goes well and I
am not referring to the actual surgery but paying for parking. I was there last night and once again am
amazed at how people are so stupid and cannot figure out for their lives how to
pay for parking. There is always a line
up and always one person at the machine who cannot understand that you insert
your card or money where the green light flashes and you need to press the big button
that says “RECEIPT” if you want a receipt.
I try to be helpful and tell them what to do but they just stand there
dumbfounded and gaped mouth holding their money. I swear I have to pay for an extra hour just
to watch a moron figure it out.
I guess this year I realize that I have a little extra to
be thankful for :-)
It’s been almost two months since this process started and although I have been pushed through the system very quickly, it feels like it has taken forever to reach this stage. I know I will be relieved to have the bad parts of me taken out.
I decided as a “Rock Star” I need to come
up with a good story behind the scar. Here
have been a few suggestions:
1.
Attacked by a shark off the
coast of the Pacific. This is my
favorite and the least likely as I can hardly swim and afraid of deep
water. The surgeon also did not agree to
make the incision look like teeth marks
2.
Attacked by wolves which I
killed with my bare hands. This is more
plausible since I have wolf remains at home and in my artwork
3.
Some wild, raunchy night with
the bass player of LA Guns that I can’t talk about due to a court
settlement. This was suggested as I had
posted a pic with him on Facebook that all my female friends seemed to like.
I am always open to suggestions
My surgeon is supposed to be an artist and leave minimal scarring so there may not be a good opportunity for a story. I also asked if they could photograph me cut open because I thought I could use the images in a collage…. I get the feeling the Montfort does not support my artwork because I thought it was a compromise when they wouldn’t return the left over pieces of the lump after they finished testing.
My biggest post-surgery fear isn’t pain but the fact I may not be able to shower for a few days. Being a little OCD with cleanliness and showering an average of 3 times a day, I have no idea how I will survive. I practiced not getting my side wet and think I have mastered it. The top questions I have prepared for tomorrow is when can I use deodorant, shave, shower and wear a bra
I have to admit, I was a smidgen (and I say “smidgen”) disappointed that it wasn’t a full mastectomy with OHIP covering implants. I mean who wouldn’t want to be 40 and walk around in public without a bra?? But after I read the procedures of a mastectomy – am pretty grateful I don’t have to deal with drainage and stuff …**shudder
The past week I have spent preparing. I now know what it’s like for expecting mothers to “nest.” I have been cleaning, re-arranging furniture, cooking, purchasing trashy magazines, sports bras etc. I felt it was necessary to move all my furniture and scrub the floors underneath it, rip off all bedding, duvet covers, etc. I even did a little “Before” photo shoot with Laura so I remember what a full rack looks like. My German Virgo side has shone through
I also have my little bag prepared for the hospital which includes socks to keep my feet warm, iPod and reading material. I wonder if Five Finger Death Punch will increase my heart rate/blood pressure or help me relax…We shall see.
As for reading material; this is very important. It has to fit within my “rock star” theme. I thought about magazines but it takes at
least 2 hours for the Tasers to travel to the lymph nodes so a book maybe more
appropriate. I set aside a book by Julien Barnes to seem
like the literary type but I’m really not interested in reading that. My childhood friend, Kim is purchasing a book
for me today. At first I was hesitant in what she would select but the girl has
known me since I was two and gave me a Guns N Roses flag when I was 15 years
old….I’m pretty confident in her choice.
Speaking of which, Kim and her hubby are the official drivers tomorrow and doing a McDonald’s drive thru after. I am very grateful for their support (as I am with everyone.) There were countless volunteers to take me to and from the hospital. I think my friends just want the entertainment value of watching me perform on whatever drugs I have upon leaving the hospital. Some of you may wonder where my parents are through all of this. Trust me, I don’t want my parents driving me. First of all we would have to leave at 4 AM in order to arrive at the hospital for 8 AM given the way my dad drives; I also think I am a better city driver than dad even if I am post-surgery, jacked up on Morphine and finally, they have to bring the dog everywhere they go and I cannot imagine trying to get a peaceful drive home with Cujo snarling beside me…No Thank You. Would rather take a bus or hitch hike.
I am looking forward to some peace
and quiet, resting, perhaps catch up on my reading about the Kardashians
(because I am so worried about how Khloe is doing these days) and having a nice
Thanksgiving with my family.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Welcome to Jenny's World
On August 16th, I went into the
hospital for what I thought was a routine mammogram but left scared and shaken
when the radiologist told me the lump was abnormal and needed to be taken care
of ASAP.
On August 19th, my heart sank into
my stomach when my family Dr told me the lump in my breast was indicative of
cancer.
So the past 2 months have been a battery of
tests…wait for results...more tests… It has finally been confirmed it is breast
cancer and now on Friday, I will have a “partial mastectomy”/ “Lumpectomy”
or what I call “Downsizing.” Lymph Nodes
will also be removed to determine if it has hit there too.
After that (4-6 weeks) I should know what
the diagnosis is: If it has harpooned any other organs and what the treatment
is going to be.
Instead, I am going to survive cancer like a Rock Star. That involves being cool, edgy, doing a few outrageous and controversial things and having a “great personal soundtrack.” So as I told my Cuzie this morning, “Please don’t wear pink on Friday but wear your Alice Cooper concert shirt and have a steak because I will be fasting from midnight on….”
1. Check your boobs and if you don’t want to do it; pick up a guy and have him do it for you
2.
An MRI for your boobs – Feels like
they are low hanging fruit
3.
Always take a friend with you
to Dr app’ts. Not only can they help
take notes, ask questions…It’s usually a good excuse to go for a drink after
4.
No matter how many times you go
to the hospital, they never offer you valet parking
5.
Don’t have discussions about
faith and religion with your father after a few drinks
6.
Don’t research anything on the
internet – unless you want to make yourself totally crazy
7.
A lot of people, although with
good intentions, seem to think they know what is best for your own physical and
mental health. Only YOU know what is
best for you.
8.
Things can change in a blink of
an eye and life throws curve balls.
Appreciate what you have, your health, your family and friends and live
with no regrets.
This blog may not provide inspiration. It may insult some people. It may even bore the shit out of anyone who decides to read it but I also hope it will put a smile on at least one person’s face at some point.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Disclaimer
As a woman recently diagnosed with Breast Cancer and about to begin her journey to recovery, I thought it would be a great idea to create a blog. Albeit not a unique idea as so many cancer patients have one.
Humour gets me through stressful situations and although I am not making light of my situation nor of anyone who has similar (or worse) experiences to myself; I hope that I can bring a smile or chuckle to anyone who is going through any stressful moments in their lives...
Humour gets me through stressful situations and although I am not making light of my situation nor of anyone who has similar (or worse) experiences to myself; I hope that I can bring a smile or chuckle to anyone who is going through any stressful moments in their lives...
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