Another side of randomness

 Last week was just nuts. In addition to the gas line at the high school being struck which caused school to be cancelled for Thing Three, I also had a two hour fog delay. We repeated the process on Tuesday, and though the gas line had been repaired, school was still cancelled for him as well as for me this time because the fog was still hanging around come bus time after the two hour delay. I think Wednesday everyone was on time, but I was subbing in first grade instead of hanging with my preK friends. Thursday I was back with my 3 year olds and then Friday was a work day and aides weren't required to report, and Thing Three also didn't have school because his teachers had a work day as well. 

My Mommeee arrived Monday afternoon and left Saturday morning, so we had a great, long visit this time. Thanks for making the trip! I miss you! Dada had been in Mexico for work since Sunday, and he made it back safely to us on Saturday after my Mom arrived home.  

This week will hopefully be a little less bananas, though I'm back in first grade on Wednesday again, and Thing Three has no school for conferences on Friday. Our school has them next week. I can't believe it's the end of the first quarter already...

My hindsight-is-always-20/20 observation is to not schedule surgery wherein your recovery requires no lifting within the same year as having lymph nodes removed in your arm. Hopefully none of you will ever go through the experience, but if you do, be forewarned that the second surgery and no lifting will set back your PT and stretching exercises rather alarmingly. I've been experiencing a ton of tightness throughout the right side of my chest, right armpit, shoulder, and neck. Over two weeks ago it was so bad that I whimpered when bending over to tie my shoes; the combination of extending my arm while having it tightly in front of me pulled all kinds of muscles in what felt like all the wrong places. At times, while stretching, I sounded snappy like a KitKat bar. As anyone with cording can tell you, the snap kind of takes your breath away a second and you're wincing the whole time you're working, either because it actually does hurt sometimes but also in anticipation of it zinging another stab of pain. For instance, I do 10 reps of various exercises, and sometimes the snap won't come until the 9th rep! Then you hesitate in dread a moment before starting the 10th, and breathe deeply when that set is done. I'm not particularly a fan of sounding crispy. Dada, however, is enjoying working on me with the massage gun we got; meanwhile, my vision when he's doing it makes me feel like the Blair Witch Project choppiness and it reminds me of how we'd vocalize as kids riding our bikes on our brick street, "heeeeyyyaaaaheeeeeyaheeeeya"... oh well. This, too, shall pass. I certainly won't win any Heisman trophies anytime soon!

School has been entertaining. For the most part, the kids are a hoot and I love the staff. I am tired of the squabbling over who is the line leader, but generally I am having a ball. I'm thrilled to be able to help. I missed so much time last year. 

Our weather has finally cooled off, I'm super behind on #Inktober, I have plenty of small projects to keep me busy when I'm home, and I'm glad for the time we had with my Mommeeeee. Too bad she didn't take Bos with her when she left. (I can hear you laughing, Mom. Pipe down.)

Did I blog that we had to put Honey down? I don't think I did. Our Honey girl was elderly and way past decrepit, so we made that worst best decision and our wonderful vet helped us send her off pain-free. Bos never even noticed. He still scurried to her dish for days afterwards to see if she'd left him any morsels and then he'd look at us like, "how rude." I think the only reason he'd miss any of us is because he doesn't have opposable thumbs.

One more football game and then the marching band season winds down. They've already had their concert and we learned the hard way to sit in the center of the auditorium versus towards the back. Having a line of trumpets three rows behind you is not recommended. Had it been drums, I'd have been great! I love to feel the beat in my sternum!

Have a wonderful week, everybody, and stay healthy!

Waxing philosophically about pathology results and impending nuttiness

 Eggs, eggs, eggs, eggs. 

Just kidding. I know what I need to blog about. I just dontwanna. 

Short version, think "The Princess Bride" where Prince Humperdinck tells the priest, "SKIP to the END," I need chemo. Again.

Longer version: my surgeon, Dr A, removed 16 lymph nodes during her two parts of my surgery. The first 4 were not true sentinels, as those had been taken out during my mastectomy surgery. The other 12 from the second part of her surgery were all clear, so hooray for that! Yay!

Of those 4 closest to the tumor, 2 of those wiseguys had picked up some cancer in their cleanup duties. Guess I should have had it marked "NO TOUCHIE" a little better, but they handled it regardless and got contaminated. 

Once the pathology came back, Dr A took the results to the tumor board that meets Thursday evenings. I had prayed that there would be a clear consensus of YES, chemo is needed or NO, chemo is not needed. I did not want the board to be split down the middle and then be asked, "what do YOU think?" I hate making medical decisions. I don't have a degree in any of that stuff! Just tell me what to do!

Fortunately, they agreed that chemo would be the way to go. Now I'm waiting for the Powers That Be to schedule my port surgery, this time on my left side, and then I can begin chemo the next day. I suppose there will be pre-op bloodwork before that, so here is the sarcastic yaaaaaaaaaay. 

Because I am no longer Triple Positive (I am estrogen positive, progesterone positive, and Her2neu negative for those new to the blog or who have lost track, and who could blame you?) I will need a different chemo cocktail than the first time around. That time I had Carboplatin and Taxotere as my chemo drugs and Herceptin and Perjeta as my hormone therapy drugs. This time it'll be Adriamycin and Cyclophosphamide (which I will never be able to spell without looking it up) every two weeks until I've done it four cycles. Then there's probably a break in there of about two weeks before I start Taxol weekly for 12 weeks. Then it'll be on to the hormone therapy, however that looks, but I seem to remember it'll be in pill form.

I shall be bald by Thanksgiving and hopefully done with the AC combo by Christmas providing I tolerate it well and don't get sick and wreck the schedule. I'm going in confident because it'll be the same team who did my chemo the first time and they are excellent at setting patients up for success in anticipating which side effects hit when. For instance, they know "these three days you will have the worst nausea so take these drugs these days, then this day the bone pain will set in so take this one," and so on. They equip you with a great bag of tricks. Plus, I know to drink TONS, rest when I can, stay positive, and all that. 

AND AVOID ATOMIC FIREBALLS. NO TOUCHIE.

My goodness, I don't want to relearn that lesson. No breathing fire, thanks. Mouth sores are a possibility so it'll be time to restart the baking soda rinses and all that jazz as well. I have wonderful lotions to help my skin stay hydrated, plenty of lip balm... and I'll need a box for all my hair products, haha. Oh well. Hair In His Face is welcome to them, though he is such a minimalist he'll never touch them. 

More than anything, right this second, what I want is for the doctor's office to call so I can schedule what needs scheduled so we can plan around it all. I have Stuff To Do! So. Much. Waiting. I'm still no good at it.

Guess I'll have time to catch up on my reading list. I am only 13 books behind my goal for the year. *sigh*

A friend asked how my heart was. Heart is fine because I know this will all be okay. I'm stronger going into this than I was the first time around and that all went fine. I know whose I am, who's got my back, who is cheering me on from afar, and so on. Heart is pretty peaceful, actually. 

It's brain that would like to schedule a freak out session, preferably in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping: 

What if I don't tolerate these meds? What if I'm vomiting or pooping ALL THE TIME? (Then the docs will adjust doses and/or meds and it'll get fixed and be fine.)

What if they affect my heart? I've already had a year of Herceptin and that had potential for heart damage. Yes, I KNOW the last echo test was fine. That was then. (They'll be keeping track of heart stuff, as well, scheduling more echos to keep an eye on things. It'll be fine.)

What if my hair never grows back? It didn't come back the same this time, and eyebrows and eyelashes hardly came back at all. (Meh. Then you have a super easy beauty regimen for the rest of forever. Don't sweat it. There are wigs. There are falsies. There are eyebrow pencils. Do you REALLY care? No. It'll be fine.)

What if I miss an entire year of subbing? (Ugh, okay, I'm with you on this one. I miss my small friends and my peer friends, a lot. I also don't want their germs, which are legion. Then you miss a year, I guess, but they haven't forgotten you as evidenced by your text streams and visits and care packages. They know you love them, too. And you might be back to yourself by springtime! It will be okay.)

I can't believe I'm putting my family through this again. (They are also in good hands with a good tribe at their back. Again, your team knows what they're doing. It will all be okay. Not great sometimes, but okay. You can keep talking about it to make sure THEY are okay, too.)

What if it spreads elsewhere? (Good grief, brain, shut it! *sigh* Okay, if it spreads elsewhere then your team will deal with that as well! Go to sleep!)

And a radiation consult? Potentially proton therapy? What is up with that?! (That is another post altogether when we have some facts.)

But what if...?

And so it goes. 

But that's life, right? There's no stopping the world to get off for a minute to reorient yourself. Y'just gotta take another breath. Take another step. Write another thank you note. Pray for someone else. Text another friend. Have another cup of coffee Go drink some more water. Eat some ice cream. Go for a walk. Make a grocery list cuz God knows nobody else around here adds anything to it. Read a book. Take another breath. Drink some more water. Give yourself permission to take a nap. Phone a friend and ruin their day because SOMEONE CALLED THEM, haha. Tell people you love them. And breathe again.

Wash, rinse, repeat. 

Enjoy the bubbles.

I didn't die! What I remember and where I am now

 Hello everyone! *waves with left hand* This post will have some fun photos and some more sensitive ones, so viewers should proceed with caution, like one hand over their eyes (for some of you) and the knowledge that I'm okay! 

Sorry for the radio silence. My brain still feels a bit slow, but this is always good therapy so here goes. Please bear with me if I get distracted before proofreading or lose my place in the story, haha.

One week ago we headed into the city for surgery first thing Wednesday morning. Report time was 5 AM with surgery to start at 7. The night before was the usual nothing by mouth after midnight (just in case I were to turn into a Gremlin, I suppose) so in that sense it was nice to be there early; less time to feel sorry for myself due to hunger and dehydration. I get crabby from both!

That green circle, above, surrounds the little dimpled area of this squatting troublemaker. It's not truly in my armpit so much as just in front of it.

Below, the arrow points to the scar from where my port was during my year of infusions, the circle is over the previous scar from my right side surgical drain post-mastectomy, and the X marks the general area of the tumor. Ignore the hair- I wasn't allowed to shave in the days leading up to surgery. Not that anybody is looking that closely, just my disclaimer. 😅

We woke up at 4 AM because I needed my final of the 6 showers with the special super-duper sudsy germ killing soap first. That done, we snuck out of our friends' house and drove the not quite half hour to the hospital. They checked us in and immediately started to draw on me and initial their work so everyone is on the same page and body part and all that. 

                                                 

I had a sweet nurse who told me they'd get me an expert to start my IV, so then I had another sweet nurse come in to do just that and she nailed it on the first try. Woot! I met my surgery nurse and the anesthesiologist (holy COW, I got that right on the first try- no way!) and her assistant, and both docs came in to go over things, and then it was time to smooch Dada and get wheeled into my adventure!

                      

Gotta love my duck socks. And my fun compression boots that kept all my blood circulating and helped prevent clots while I was under anesthesia. These guys really know what they're doing! Everyone was incredibly kind, and let me tell you, I remember kissing Dada... and I have zero memory of even making it into the OR. Not kidding. Not being pushed through the doors, feeling the coldness of the room, not the bright lights, none of it. 

I didn't even get to use my bite sticks! I had one in my hand and was completely befuddled when I asked about the dye going in and how it feels like an angry hornet and they smiled at me and said, "oh no, we'll wait until you're sleeping for that." Could have knocked me over with a feather. Unbelievable. So I got to give that to Dada to put in my purse as I left him. Such good fortune! Hooray! No stinging!

And you guys, thanks for praying. One, I was not allergic to the dye. I am still bluish green in areas to prove it. Thank you! Two, apparently they had to do the long version after all and I didn't die! Dr A had not expected the lymph node mapping to work, and she was right, unfortunately. That meant after Dr A removed the tumor, surrounding tissue, and whatever lymph nodes were in there and attempted the mapping, Dr H also had to step in to reroute the severed lymph vessels into suitable veins. Apparently my previous radiation damage made that trickier in that he had to dig deeper to find recipient veins, but he was able to make five connections and was pleased. 

I woke up in recovery some time after all that and that's all pretty fuzzy. I know I vomited at least once- maybe when they tried to stand me up the first time? They said that happens often. 

One of the nice parts is that all of this procedure happened on the same floor: pre-op, the surgery, and the post-op care. No elevator rides, less chance of germs being handed around, no chance to get lost, haha. It was a really nice set up! My nurses, Abby and Alexis and Jesse and Chris were all fantastic, excellent educators, caring, kind, encouraging. I forget which person handed me the plastic tool that they want you to inhale from to make sure that your lung sacs are opening post-anesthesia, but she started to give directions and I took in a huge breath- the little indicator hit the top wall- and she laughed mid-instruction and said, "well, okay then, champ!" Guess all that walking and running this spring and summer made the odds ever in my favor. That and all your prayers, for sure! Thank you so much! 

I ate all my dinner, which was noodles, mashed potatoes, a roll and green beans- yes, Mother, there is visual proof in a photo below (I am NOT a fan of green beans)- and I didn't die! Haha. And my strawberry ice cream and later some orange sherbet with a turkey sandwich. I remember brushing my teeth later and wondering why my toothpaste was orange colored when I spit it out before I remembered about the orange sherbet. I think I also had another turkey sandwich around 4 AM...

They kept me overnight since I'd had the long version, and booted me out before 8 AM the following morning, sending me home with Tylenol and ibuprofen to alternate between, my inhaling-suck-it-in tool, two front-closing sports bras to help hold my dressing in place, gloves and wipes and all that jazz for Dada to use whilst emptying my surgical drain twice daily (fun times but not painful) and various dressings. 

And my duck socks. 

So now I'm colorful from the dye and the bruising:

The blue dots on my arm are where the plastic surgeon injected his own set of dyes to trace where the lymph vessels drained and to match with the veins. I also had blue dye injected into the webbing of my right hand between each finger. Mercifully I was asleep for all that. It is quite clear to me that I'd make a terrible junkie.

And I'm a bit rashy because of adhesives and cleansers, which is apparently a side effect of chemo because it happened then, as well. Benadryl helps and I know the itching won't be forever. Nothing like sporting weird racing stripes of rash in odd places and having one bumpy arm:

In addition to those itches, I had been warned ahead of time that post-surgery there would be light, tickly feelings on my right arm and that I'd need to rub it to desensitize those nerves and get them used to reporting in when something was actually touching me. Dada, who loves to give light tickly touches, was delighted. I am not a fan of light tickly touches because they tickle! Thing Two and I are firmly in the Firm Touches camp. I have indeed felt as though spider webs or Thing Two's hairs have been draped along my arm, or as though a drip of moisture is sliding down, and am brushing and rubbing and scratching gently accordingly. Mostly it feels like when you've slept funny and your arm is asleep, unusually heavy, right before the tingles of the blood rushing back in begins. Sometimes the skin gets stuck together in the adhesives that I have to let flake off. I'm allowed to shower but not let that part face the stream of water yet. So things get a little pinchy on that side.

I'm to not lift anything heavier than two pounds on my right side and I'm not to lift higher than 45 degrees this first week. If you want to know what that's like, go unload your dishwasher with your opposite hand and you'll have a pretty good idea. Get a gallon of milk out of the fridge with your off hand. Set a lot of things down so you can open the fridge or cabinet or door first and then pick the stuff back up with your "bad" hand. It's entertaining, but I am so astoundingly bad at brushing my teeth with my off hand, that I've gone back to using my chicken wing right side. 

I'm drinking lots of water, eating whatever I want, playing lots of solitaire on my phone and watching way too much TV, but I don't feel like I can focus on a book quite yet. This post alone has taken me about two hours, though there were some interruptions, including a thunderstorm followed by intense sunshine which resulted in this: 

Thank you again, all of you, for being invaluable members of my tribe. I am sure the docs will be pleased at my follow up appointments and I am healing well. I've gone from meds every four hours to meds about three times a day. I slept through the entire night last night and I can't tell you when that last happened! We're still waiting to hear if there was lymph node involvement so we know if I will need chemo in addition to hormone therapy, and I'm not sure when we will get those results. Thank you all so much. You are among my many blessings. 

Home again, home again, jiggety jig!

 Hiya! This will be brief; as my creative juices are still a little sludgy, but I am HOME. We got booted out yesterday morning after I was able to waddle around the hospital floor in my grippy yellow duckfoot socks, use the bathroom, eat several times and pass all the mini exams they have you perform. I'm going to be in recovery mode a little while, but wanted to thank you all for the prayers, cards, texts, calls, all of it. Truly the best tribe ever! 

They did have to do the long version and that included sending the 2/3 of my right side lymph nodes out for inspection, so we won't hear the results of that right away. However, my docs were pleased, my nurses were proud of me, and everyone seems to think I'm doing very well. I'm alternating Advil and Tylenol every four hours, have no dietary restrictions, and I will not be power lifting anytime soon as I can't lift more on my right side than two pounds until I have my follow up appointment next week. I promise that I will try to behave myself and not overdo things. I am very much looking forward to my first shower, my surgical drain is doing a good job sucking out my fluids, and it was nice to sleep in my own bed with tons of pillows!

Have a wonderful day, my excellent tribe. I love you all!