Boob growth and a wish list

Today I went to the plastic surgeon's office for my first expansion. Basically, this is when they add more fluid to the tissue expanders to create the "breast mound" (ugh, I hate that term). Here is what was waiting for me in the exam room:

So, they stabbed me in each breast and pushed 60cc of fluid into each side, bringing my total to 260cc on each side. Luckily I have absolutely no feeling across my chest so I didn't feel a thing. I feel a little tight now, but not too bad. I have the luxury of taking this process as slowly as I like because the replacement surgery can't be done until about 30 days after chemo ends. So, I will have these delightful expanders until February.

I've had a ton of people asking how they can help. There's my benefit on the 27th, and I'll put more information up about that soon. Or, if you're so inclined, I have created a small wish list of hats and head scarves I would love to have once I lose my hair in a couple of weeks. To access the wish list click here and then enter in my email address (katie.pearce@dmu.edu). The website is pretty temperamental, so you may need to try your search a couple of times to get it to pull. Or, if you find something else that is cute feel free to send it my way. Troy helped me measure my head last night and apparently it is "large." If I have a large head I'm thinking I should get large boobs to balance it all out.

I am also planning on getting a wig, and I will receive a voucher at chemo tomorrow. The voucher is for a shop that my sister-in-law Joy had already recommended to me, so I am pretty excited about it. I have ideas of what I want my wig to look like, but I think I will keep that to myself until I see what my options are. Lucky for me, Joy is the most accomplished hair stylist in the Des Moines area and she is going to help me pick something that will look good on me. If you're local and need a great cut/color, give Joy Streeter a call at Entourage Salon (515.278.8844).

So, chemo starts tomorrow. I have to be at the doctor's office by 8:20am to have my port accessed. Then I have a MUGA (a scan that shows my heart function), a meeting with the oncologist, and then chemo will start. It is going to be a very long day. I chatted with my care coordinator yesterday, and she says most people start to feel the effects by day four. Since I have all kinds of drugs for nausea that shouldn't be a problem, but fatigue very well could be an issue. Everybody seems to be asking me if I'm nervous. No, I'm not really nervous because I don't know what to expect for what I personally will experience. I am most concerned about having my port started because it still feels sensitive. Other than that, I'm sure tomorrow will be fine.

A plan for chemo

On Monday, Troy and I met with my oncologist for the first time. He is the same doctor who treated my mom many years ago, and she let me know that he is about the nicest person ever. She was right. He is older and called me "peanut" for most of our session, which I thought was adorable. He laid out the plan for my chemo, which caught me off guard. I had been hoping, since my cancer hadn't spread, that maybe I could get away with some easy chemo. That is not going to be the case. I'll have a session every other week for eight weeks, and then weekly sessions for twelve weeks. I will lose my hair 2-3 weeks after my first infusion, which is this Friday! And I won't be done with chemo until January. Dang. That was hard to hear. I've been feeling great, making progress, and it was overwhelming to hear how much longer this battle is going to last. So, what does one do when feeling a little glum? Get a good book, some sunshine, and a good dose of sugar:

 

 

I think I really was feeling blue because losing my hair will make me look like I have cancer. Right now I look pretty normal. But once I am sporting a wig, or head scarf, or whatever I end up choosing to do with my naked head, I will look like the cancer patient I am. You may be wondering why we're doing such aggressive chemo, and it is all because of my age. The doctor explained that if I were 67, instead of 37, we wouldn't be doing any of this. If we chose not to do chemo, I would have about an 85% chance of being cancer-free for the rest of my life. With chemo, we raise the percentage to 95. Only God can do 100%.

 

I was also surprised at the number of medications I have to help control the nausea. I'm glad the bottles all have good instructions because this is also overwhelming:

 

 



I had two different appointments today, and the first was with physical therapy. I really liked the PT and I will see her once a week throughout my reconstruction. Today she spent a lot of time massaging around where the tissue expanders are to make sure that they're moving and aren't getting locked in place with scar tissue. And oh my, it felt so good! My worst pain right now is around my sternum, and that's because the muscles that attach there are really being stretched. So, I have some exercises to help with that and the range of motion in my arms. The PT also let me know that the amount of fluid put in my tissue expanders during surgery was pretty aggressive. That made me feel a little better and not so bad about complaining about it.

 

My second appointment for today was my PET scan. The scan is basically to check for any other cancer cells in my body and to create a baseline should future testing be necessary. One perk of being a cancer patient is good parking. You have to know the special code to enter. It is a pretty big deal:

 

 

The worst part of the PET scan was having to fast for four hours prior to the test. When I arrived I got an IV dose of radioactive sugar pushed into me, and then I went through the scanning tunnel. I was all wrapped up in blankets and had my arms pretty much tied down. And for some reason, as I started to go into the flesh-colored device, all I could think of was this scene from the movie "Patch Adams":

 

 

What in the world is wrong with me?! I couldn't laugh because I was not allowed to move. My mind is so odd sometimes. By the time the scan was done I was absolutely famished and had the worst headache ever. I ate about half a dozen Oreos on the drive home and then ate a gigantic lunch and took a nap. It was nice. And then, a little before 5pm, the oncologist called to let me know that the PET scan confirmed that there is no additional cancer hanging out in my hot little body.

 

People keep asking me what they can do to help. Right now, things are pretty well covered. But don't worry, I'll speak up when something comes up. Since I don't have anything for you to do for me, why don't you do something for yourself? I'll even give you some options:

• If you are a woman, check out your boobs. Right now. While you're reading this. Seriously. Click here for steps on how to do it. If you're between 35-40 see if your insurance will pay for a baseline mammogram and then go get one. If you're over 40 and haven't had a mammogram yet GO GET ONE! You could have cancer growing in you and not even know it. Be proactive; nobody else is going to do it for you.
• If you are a man, you have "man stuff" you can check out. I've seen videos about it. One involved a rugby team. I would post a link but I feel a little awkward doing it. 
• If my spiritual ramblings have piqued your interest in what I believe, let me know. I am happy to chat. If you don't have a church home, find one. Community with other believers is so important. If you want to read a good book that explains the Bible clearly and logically, check out "The Stranger on the Road to Emmaus" by John Cross. You can find it for less than $15 on Amazon.

Tomorrow is my only day this week where I have no doctor's appointments. I am going to go to Farrell's, sleep, read, watch tv, sit outside, and take naps. I am going to watch the hummingbirds in my backyard (I really do get a kick out of them, especially when they fight with each other). And yes, I will consume candy. It will be a great day.



Back on the mat!

Today I went back to Farrell's! When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I thought that I would be leaving Farrell's for a very long time. I assumed that there was no way that I would be back to complete my 10-week challenge. Over the last week my Farrell's coaches have been sending emails and making posts in our Facebook group about not giving up, and have been chiding those who haven't be attending class. I quickly found myself growing angry (I see a theme here) with the people who were able to do Farrell's but were choosing not to. Then, laying in bed one night and feeling pretty good, I changed my perspective. I could go back. Why not? Once the final drain was removed there wasn't really anything stopping me. So, on Monday night I decided that today would be my first day back.

I decided that I would keep it a secret and surprise nearly everybody. I did let Friday's instructor, who I adore, know of my plans in advance.  I also chatted with the plastic surgery nurse about it on Tuesday; she was concerned but I promised to listen to my body and take it easy. Today's workout was great. I couldn't punch the bag. I couldn't do jump squats (darn), burpees (double darn), sit ups, push-ups, planks, or keep pace. But I could do the arm movements and I definitely could kick the bag. Here is a sweet action shot of me:

Class was not easy. My intensity level was about 15% of normal. I got tired quickly, and every time I got up off the floor I blacked out (just a little). But it was so great! Perhaps the best part of today was seeing Jen's reaction when she saw me. It about killed me not telling her that I was coming back, but I did it! The coaches were equally surprised, and I noticed many of my teammates checking me out throughout the class. So, next week is week 10 of the challenge, and I am so happy that I can say that I am able to finish what I started.

One of the themes at Farrell's is NO EXCUSES. So, to all my friends who want to work out but don't...what's your excuse? Is it very good? I'm guessing it isn't. Because if I can show up two weeks after having my tits chopped off I bet you can do it, too. I REFUSE to let cancer be an excuse for anything.

Getting up at 4:20am and preparing to leave the house felt so NORMAL. I think that is one thing that I have been longing for; a sense of normalcy. When Marah was a newborn she cried non-stop. It was horrible. We threatened to make her a Safe Haven baby multiple times. I remember longing for things to be normal again, but also realized that my old "normal" no longer existed. And now, the normal of a month ago will never exist, either. I don't really know what my post-cancer normal will look like, but I know it will be good.

Two Days of Target

I have felt pretty great the last couple of days, and have so much to share! On Tuesday I had my final drain removed. I didn't pass out this time, and being free of tubing and not having to carry around a little plastic receptacle of my own blood and fluids makes me very happy. Troy had Tuesday off from work, so after the drain was pulled I made Troy celebrate with me by going shopping for Marah clothes at my favorite consignment store. Then, we went to Target. I imagine this is how I looked:

Like most people I know, I do love some shopping at Target. I went with the purpose of shopping in the maternity section. No, I am not pregnant (obviously...if I had a kid now it would definitely die since I can't make breast milk any more). I figured out that maternity tank tops are the perfect shirt to wear after you've had your boobs cut off. They are so stretchy I can pull them up from the bottom rather than over my head. It is perfect! And, even more perfect, there were some on TARGET CLEARANCE! Oh my goodness it was wonderful! I even went to a different Target today to experience a different selection of clearance maternity tank tops.

In addition to two Target trips over the last two days, I went grocery shopping today. It was in the cheese and cold cut section where I had my first real experience of knowing that I no longer have to worry about my nipples popping out when I am cold! As Troy and I approached the frozen food section I happily strutted my stuff, wearing one of my new maternity tank tops, proud in the knowledge that no nipples would be showing. It really was liberating! And then, at church tonight, I sat in my class and felt the air conditioner pumping out cold air. I started to get cold and then all I could do was think about how I didn't have to put on my cardigan right away. At this point I doubt I'll even bother with nipple reconstruction. Just imagine, I will never have to wear a bra again. My boobs will be perky and I won't have to cover any protruding nippage.

So, I have been very active the last two days, but it really wears me out. Tuesday, after Troy and I got home, I passed out for three hours. I was still tired today and slept in until 9:30am, and still had a tough time getting going. While I look pretty normal, and even feel pretty good, I am still recovering from major surgery. I can't lift anything that is heavier than 10 pounds, and even that is a stretch. It is really hard for me to bend over and pick up anything off the floor. Putting any kind of pressure on my arms - like scrubbing the kitchen counter - is a no-go. I have limited range of motion in my arms. I can't jump, run, or walk quickly. Riding in a car on a bumpy road really hurts. I have learned how to do things with my feet and legs, like opening the dish washer and pulling out the bottom rack. I also like to kick doors open. So, given that I am pretty limited with my arms, I am still extremely appreciative of the help people have been giving. Meals have been a real blessing. I can't even imagine carrying a pot of water from the sink to the stove. I wanted a glass of milk today, but the gallon hadn't been opened yet and I was afraid of trying to open it myself. So, thank you to all of the friends who continue to provide help!

What's next? Monday is the oncologist. Tuesday is my first physical therapy session, and Thursday I get to experience my first round of fluid being added to my tissue expanders. Yippee!

Just a little bit angry

The last few days I have been struggling with feeling angry. An amazing colleague of mine, and cancer club member, has told me to accept and really feel my emotions. So, over the last few days I've been okay with being angry. I'm sure most of you are thinking that I'm angry about having cancer, but that's not it at all. I am angry at all of you. I am angry when I see your Facebook pictures enjoying the long weekend. Football games, parties, camping, time at the lake, taking kids to the zoo - you name it, it all pissed me off. While everybody was out having fun I was stuck feeling weak and sore. While most everyone I know sleeps at night, I have been wide awake with insomnia. Today, though, I have let the anger go. So, for those of you who are able, please enjoy all the things you are able to do.

Today is the Des Moines triathlon, and I learned last night that I have somebody competing for me. Seeing her post on Facebook helped me remember that there people out there who truly recognize what I'm going through, and it is so appreciated. Kari Smith, I hope you kick that triathlon's butt today!!

I was able to make it to church today, and was pretty impressed that I was able to sit upright through the entire sermon. So many people told me that I look good - of course I do - and it was nice to be out in public, flat chest and all. Today's sermon again was in Hosea and focused on the love of God. As I mentioned in a previous post, I am choosing to use this cancer journey as a positive force in my life (despite how terrible it is). Not only will it draw me closer to God, it will utterly change my perspective. I sometimes think about myself in one year - perky new boobs and all - and the kind of wisdom I will have acquired. It is pretty neat to think about.

So, what's next? I should be able to have my final drain removed on Tuesday, which is great progress. As each day passes it is my hope that the tissue expanders cause a little less pain, although once I reach a comfortable place it will be time for an expansion (when they add more fluid to create the "breast mound" for my new boobs...isn't "breast mound" the worst term ever?).  I meet with my oncologist for the first time on the 14th to see what the chemo plan will be.

As I close, I feel like I should apologize to everybody for being angry with them. And that's what I would have done just a few weeks ago. But nope, I'm not sorry for my feelings as I go through this journey.  Suck it up, friends, my voice is getting stronger every day.

Sweet relief

Yesterday was a day with ups and downs. I started the day just not feeling well. I was tired and the dizziness was really getting me down. I relaxed and slept most of the morning, and even skipped a FaceTime date with my work friends. They were having a walking taco potluck, and were kind enough to send me lots of great photos of their lunchtime fun. Here are a couple of my favorites:

They also let me know that I missed a fire alarm at work. This is a really big deal. For those of you who don't know, I am a Floor Safety Coordinator and I take this responsibility very seriously. It is my job to ensure that the individuals on my floor are safe in all emergency situations - fires, tornados, tsunamis, hurricanes, earthquakes, active shooters - the list goes on. I should have been there in my neon safety vest letting them know to evacuate the unsafe situation. Fortunately they made it out of the building, but clearly they were lost:

One struggle that I have had since surgery is pooping. There, I said it. Lower GI problems are common after surgery and I am no different. But yesterday was a big day in this area. I did have one friend offer to come over to help me via rectal stimulation, but fortunately I did not need to take her up on the offer. Coffee, dried apricots, and apple juice eventually worked. Aaahh, sweet relief.

I had a follow-up appointment with the plastic surgeon in the afternoon, and I managed to make myself look pretty cute for the appointment. The doctor said my incisions are looking good and gave me an A+ for progress. He was also able to remove three of the four drains. Having the drains removed was pretty awful. It didn't hurt, but feeling the tubing move out of my body made me just about pass out. Literally. The nurse had to tip me way back, put a cool, damp cloth on my forehead, and put ice behind my neck. I needed some Coca-Cola as well. It took quite a while for me to perk back up, but it was worth it in the end because now I only have one drain! If the output is low enough today we can take it out tomorrow. And I'll get to pass out all over again!

For today, I am hoping that my dizziness goes away! The doctor gave me a new antibiotic so I really hope that makes a difference. I'm thinking that I might post a picture soon of my chest; despite my smiling face, my chest is pretty terrible looking. And why wouldn't I want to share that with everyone?

Suck it, Trebek

Today was my first full day home post-surgery. My parents came over to keep me company and made sure I had everything I needed. My dad, who can't sit still, took care of some projects we have been wanting to do for a while. My mom did laundry, ran to the store, and made a nice puke bucket for me when I started to feel nauseous.

So, how am I feeling? Mostly tired and dizzy. I haven't taken a pain pill since this morning and have switched to just Tylenol so I am hoping I'll feel a little more normal soon. My drains are not producing as much output (oh, so gross) so hopefully I can have those removed sooner rather than later. I've taken a couple of brief glances at my chest and it is pretty awful looking. Huge incisions across each breast area. I have these nice hospital camisoles that I get to wear that include pouches for my drain receptacles and they are pretty comfortable. And, let's be honest, I won't be wearing a bra again any time soon.

The other day I was watching Jeopardy and Alex Trebek referred to people with cancer as "victims." Here's what I immediately thought:

I am already a survivor, and I love what "Redefining Survivor" by Nicole Malato says:

There are different definitions of "survivor." Until recently, I had always thought it was someone who "beat cancer" and went on to remission for many years. Now I am learning that using that definition minimizes the experiences of other survivors and prevents those who have earned the title from rightfully using it. I am embracing the fact that I am indeed a survivor already. I have overcome the following obstacles to earn this honorable distinction:

* I survived calling my doctor and saying, "I found a lump."

* I survived mammograms, ultrasounds, and biopsies.

* I survived the shock of hearing the words "you have cancer."

* I survived telling my family about my diagnosis, knowing I was ripping out their hearts in the process.

* I survived multiple medical consultations and feeling like the world had now seen my upper body.

* I survived making the toughest decision I have ever had to make - what surgery to have and what treatment course to follow.

* I survived a double mastectomy with tissue expanders.

* I survived having surgical drains.

And, I have a few of my own things I'll add to the list:
* I survived breaking the news to my co-workers, who so hopefully believed that the lump was "nothing."
* I survived telling my friend and church communities, and coping with their shock.
* I survived letting go of the job I love for a brief time in order to allow myself to heal.
* I survived a gross and somewhat painful full body rash that appeared as a result of stress and anxiety.

Looking ahead, there will be more things that I will survive:
* I will survive multiple expansions.
* I will survive chemotherapy and all of the unknowns that come with it.
* I will survive telling my daughter, when she is old enough to understand, why mommy was sick.

So yes, I already am a survivor. And this evening as I laid in bed, feeling pretty miserable, that thought helped pull me out of my temporary funk. And tomorrow is a new day, with an appointment at the plastic surgeon's office. Let's keep our fingers crossed that these gross drains can be removed!