Fourth Day Post-Chemo--So Far, So Good

Joe's dad, who lives in Minnesota, called last night to say he was visiting his parents in Albany, New York. Since it's only about two and a half hours away, he was able to drive down and visit us today. We stayed home from church so that we could have more time with him; we always have a great time when he comes to visit.

We visited for a while here at home, and then Joe and his dad took the boys out to play mini-golf and bumper bowling at the local sports center. They eventually stopped counting strokes for EB while he was playing mini golf. [giggle] He beat everyone at "Fun Bowling", though. It's a kid's version of bowling with short lanes, small pins, and small three-pound balls with no finger-holes. Joe and his dad couldn't get the hang of using them, but EB just pitched them down the lane as if he were playing bocce.

I stayed home and rested a bit, although I didn't fall asleep. I just wasn't tired enough. W & AS stopped by with a delivery from church. P & MM had read that I was enjoying hummus and made some for me. It is soooooo yummy! Thanks, guys! I dove in as soon as W & A left the driveway. [grin]

As the guys drove back from their afternoon out, EB and Spiff were fighting in the back seat over who had cheated at thumb wrestling. It had escalated to tears and blows by the time they got home. We got them calmed down, and then Joe and his dad went to pick up my favorite pizza from a local bowling alley. Meatball pizza--I ate two pieces with no nausea in sight. In fact, I'm having a piece of cold cheese pizza as I write.

I think they gave me steroids with my first chemo treatment to help make sure I didn't have a bad reaction to the drugs. They're probably behind the sleep problems and food obsessions--the last time I was on steroids the same thing happened. I slept little, ate often in small amounts, and planted an entire 8 ft x 16 ft garden plot in one morning. Joe still groans at the mention of that period in our lives. Hopefully these will be out of my system soon and I can go back to sleeping normally.

Here are some photos from today:

Third Day Post-Chemo

Well, this was supposed to be one of the days that I crashed. So far, it hasn't happened. I had a hard time sleeping last night--sleep for three hours, be up for two, all night long. Today has been a flip-flop of that--up for three hours, go try and lay down for a few minutes. But I haven't felt exhausted--more of a need for a quick nap.

Today I've been munching down more hummus (it's good on toast!) and eating a mango Joe picked up for me. Oh, lovely, lovely mangoes! I don't have any sores in my mouth yet, so I'm going to eat them while I can. I also had some pizza leftovers from the boys' dinner last night. So I guess I'm not really affected by nausea with all these wonder drugs. I do have cravings, however, and sometimes things just don't sound good at all. I just eat what and when I want to and call it good. I'm just going to listen to my body for a while and see what it wants to eat. So far my cravings have been for fruit and protein and my aversions have been to sweets.

My brain does feel "full" today. I can only knit a one or two rows at a time before I worry about losing the pattern and put it down. I'm hopping from one task to another and just doing what I can. Hopefully I won't crash on Monday--I have a follow up with the plastic surgeon that day.

Second Day Post-Chemo

Well, so far, so good. I had a migraine last night, which really gave the anti-nausea medicine a work out. But, I didn't throw up, even though I didn't take my migraine medicine. One day down.

Today, the boys were home from school due to a teachers' workshop. They watched Wallace and Gromit on DVD, played Wallace and Gromit on the Game Cube, watched The Bee Movie, played Luigi's Mansion, and watched the first episode of Johnny Quest when the Netflix envelope came in the mail. Not a lick of exercise was to be seen except for getting up to get snacks. But we were all together. I knitted a bit, Peter advised Michael on Luigi's Mansion (much to Michael's chagrin) and Michael did take an electronics break to make a comic book.

One thing I have noticed is that some food sounds completely unappetizing while other foods sound delicious. Someone on the Sonlight forums mentioned hummus today and so Joe picked some up for me at the grocery store tonight. It. was. wonderful. I had it on a flour tortilla with one of our garden tomatoes. I have to be careful about produce now, so it is nice to know that our tomatoes are safe. In fact, now I'm craving hummus again.

So, while I haven't felt completely "normal" today, I haven't felt exactly queasy either. I do look like I have a sunburn on my face and upper torso--a side effect of one of the drugs. But since it doesn't hurt or itch like a sunburn, it is a minor thing. I haven't even crashed yet. It's 8:30 pm and I haven't fallen alseep in my chair.

One Chemo Down, Seven More to Go

My first chemo appointment was at 9:45 yesterday. They checked my blood cell counts and I was given the go-ahead to receive my first treatment. They tapped my port to draw blood, so I was ready to go by the time I got into the chemo room.

The room is long, and has a bunch of reclining chairs in it. Each chair has a pillow and an afghan on it, and two little arm tables attached for your reading, water bottle, etc. Across from some of the recliners are regular chairs for your visitor (in my case, Joe). At either end of the room is a TV with built-in DVD and VCR. There is coffee, water, and juice available. A table holds a basket of head scarves/turbans, a basket of saltine crackers, and some literature on cancer. There is also a bookcase with novels that you can read.

They first gave me an IV bag full of anti-nausea medicine. I had also taken an anti-nausea pill at home prior to arriving, so I had two on board by the time the first chemo arrived. The first one was red in a HUGE syringe. It looked like it was for giving horses shots. The nurse had to slowly inject the medicine into an IV line (saline was running with it) over the course of 5 minutes. She warned me that it would make my pee turn orange and not to worry when it happened.

The next drug was in an IV bag and took more than an hour to drip into me. They could have done it in as little as an hour, but it sometimes makes people have sinus issues--runny nose, sneezing, stuffiness--so they run it more slowly for at least the first time.

I had my knitting with me, and a lot of people struck up conversations with me about that. I think there must be something about yarn arts that just make people seem more approachable. "What are you making?" is such an easy way to strike up a conversation. Although, I had to recast on 4-5 times because I kept messing up. I finally started correctly though and was on my way.

About half the room was younger women and half was older. Joe and I were a bit surprised at how equal the distribution was. After listening to conversations floating around the room, he decided that if he were a playwrite, he would write a play entitled "The Thursday Morning Chemo Club." It would be about six women going through chemo and their lives. He thinks he's not creative at all, but I am always amazed at the ideas he comes up with.

Here Comes the Judge

Sitting in waiting rooms is one of the less pleasant parts of my "being there" for Sandy because I have to endure hours among the hoi polloi on their cellphones with loud daytime TV in the background.

During today's chemo visit (more on that from Sandy) Paris Hilton was on the View, all cleaned up to look like the girl next door.   After it ended the Judge shows started.  Another husband and I compared notes on all the Judge shows we'd seen in the waiting rooms.  Here's my list: 

Judge Mathis

Judge Hatchett

Judge Joe Brown

Judge Judy

Judge Maria Lopez

Judge Mills Lane

Judge Jeanne Pirro

I feel like I'm ready to sit for the Bar.

Chemo Begins Tomorrow

For me, the cancer treatment is a play with five acts: diagnosis, mastectomy and recovery, chemotherapy, radiation, and finally, back to life again. Tonight the curtain falls on recovery. In the morning it rises again on chemotherapy.

Sandy's first chemotherapy session begins at 9:45 a.m. tomorrow in Hamden. She's facing a total of 8 sessions of chemotherapy on a two-week schedule. The first week she'll receive the drugs and the second week she'll visit the doctor for follow-up care. Treatment begins with 4 doses of Adriamycin and Cytoxan (combined), followed up with 4 doses of Taxol.

My manager is letting me work from home tomorrow so I can go with her and be there to help in the afternoon. The first session will take over two hours, so I'll probably pass the time writing training materials (and giving the evil eye to anyone on a cellphone) but if I'm lucky enough to have wireless access, I'll try to update the blog.

Answers to Some Questions I Received

Someone emailed me today and asked some questions about how/why I went in to get my lump checked in the first place. I thought I would share them here as well.

Had you had any mammograms?

No. I was told to go get a baseline in December of 2006 after my regular GYN appointment, but I put it off. There was no indication at a that time that there was anything wrong.

Any history of breast cancer in your family?

My grandmother had it in her 80s after her colon cancer spread to her entire body. From what I've gleaned, that doesn't really count.

How old are you if you don't mind my asking?

I turned 40 a few weeks after I was diagnosed.

Did you notice the lump before you found it in June?

I knew that there was a change in my breast earlier in the spring, but I was hoping it was just a cyst that was changing during my period. I monitored it for a few months. When I realized that it was pretty large and not getting smaller after my period, I called. It was not a small lump.

Was it sore? big? hard?

It got sore the week of my period, but sore breasts were part of my normal life during my period.

Did they biopsy it right away or had you found it earlier and they told you to wait?

I had the lump checked out at the GYN office. There was a mammogram office right down the hall, so I stopped in to set an appointment. Since it was close to 5 pm and they didn't have an appointment, they did it right then. It was pretty obvious from the mammo that it was cancer. I got a biopsy within a week.

Were you having any other symptoms like feeling really tired? Immune system not working correctly?

I have migraines that hit during PMS week, and sometimes other times. Any ill feelings were usually chalked up to one of them.

Were you on any type of hormone replacement?

No hormone replacement. I tried natural progesterone cream for a few months, but quit because it wasn't helping my PMS symptoms. My general practitioner and my GYN knew I was using it and were fine with it. (I think they thought it was about as strong as a placebo.)

I guess the main question is: Did you have any idea before July that something might be wrong with your health?

I had no idea that something was wrong other than my migraines. No feelings of dread, no foreboding sense that something was wrong in my world. In fact, I was immensely pleased with my life and how it was going.

I didn't even consider that the lump could be cancer because, other than having my children after the age of 30, I don't have any risk factors. I'm proof that it can strike anyone.

I Finished a Hat Today

LH loaned me some of her back issues of Interweave Knits and Vogue Knits to read after surgery. Of course, I found a ton of patterns that I want to knit up right away.

This is one from Interweave Fall 2003. L laughed at me on Sunday when I showed her and said "You go straight for the hard stuff, don't you?"

Anyway, the best part about the pattern is that it used up the last bit of two balls of yarn that had been used for other projects. How cool is that? Plus, it combines Fair Isle methods with Scandinavian motifs and Estonian braid. What is not to love? I bought yarn on Saturday for another one. The next one will be 3 colors.

It will keep my bald head warm this fall. I already know which sweaters it will match.





I also knitted up a couple of cabled caps. They look like this in the green shown, and then a cranberry red. Oh, and that's not me--it's just a picture of the hat I grabbed off the web.

First Physical Therapy Appointment

It is a bloggy kind of day, isn't it?

I went to my first physical therapy appointment on Saturday. The PT measured how much I can bend my arms, how high I can lift them, etc. Then she looked at my chart and said "You aren't even a month past your surgery. Why are you here?"

I had to explain that after my tomato picking incident (I picked some about 10 days post-surgery because they needed to be picked) my plastic surgeon decided I needed physical therapy. That way I could feel like I was doing something to move toward recovery, but the "something" I would do could actually help me and not cause me to do something stupid. Like reach up to pick cherry tomatoes that Spiff couldn't reach.

So I have a bunch of exercises I get to do twice a day. A few of the exercises involve using a broom handle. They make me feel like I'm Dick Van Dyke dancing with the "old bamboo" (see Chitty Chitty Bang Bang if you don't remember the movie reference). The PT said I was not allowed to tap dance while I did them, even if I did it slowly.

We'll see how much I feel like tap dancing soon. I have my first chemo appointment on Thursday, the 25th.

First Day at Building School--Update

The boys' first day of school:

We were going to walk the boys down to their respective classrooms. The children all start out in the gym in the mornings, and then their teachers come and fetch them class by class. Well, once they got in the gym and Spiff saw where his class was to sit, he climbed right up into the bleachers. He sat next to the friendliest boy in the class, started talking, and that was it. He was fine with waiting to walk with the rest of the kids; he wanted to talk with his new friend.

Entropy Boy evidently had a point during the day when he asked his teacher if she had seen his big brother. She said she hadn't, but she knew where his classroom was. She walked EB down to Spiff's classroom and let him peek in the window so he could see Spiff. EB was fine after that; he knew where his brother was.

Today we got to the school about 5 minutes before the teachers started leading the children down to the classrooms. Spiff wanted to just be dropped off. EB wanted me to walk in with him. As it turned out, traffic was so busy that I dropped them both off. Spiff didn't wait for his little brother, but I comforted myself in knowing that there was less than 5 minutes before EB's teacher would come and fetch the kids. He didn't really have much time to get lost or confused. He'll be ok. We talked in the car about his brain needing to get used to the noise in the gym while waiting for the teacher. It will be hard, but eventually he will get used to it--just like his big brother has to work on learning names and actually remembering them. Spiff inherited my inability to remember names and dates. Poor kid.

The Boys Start "Building School" Tomorrow

Our God is BIG and He's making my head spin.

Last week I got a call from a dear friend, who also homeschools, asking if we would consider putting the boys in Christian school this year. She knows how hard it has been to have a consistent schedule with my surgery. Now that it looks like I are going to be hitting chemo really hard and then having radiation. . .well, doing school would be that much harder. She had already talked to the headmaster and admissions director at the school to see what was possible.

We have had several long days, interspersed with doctors' visits, rides from friends because I couldn't drive, and admissions testing for the boys. The upshot is that the boys have been accepted into the school (a *very* good school) and are scheduled to begin classes on Friday. It will be the end of the third week of classes, so they won't have missed an enormous amount.

Spiff went from weeping last Thursday night at the thought of "building" school, to asking if he could please go to school there (he had a 1/2 day of shadowing another student on Monday). He'll be in 3rd grade. Entropy Boy will be in K (even though we did K at home last year) because he is a young 6yo. He won't be the oldest, or the tallest, in his class.

We had always said that we would assess the boys' schooling on a year by year basis. This week, God has clearly indicated this is what we are supposed to do. I don't know how the tuition details are going to work out, but He does. His hand has been all over the whole process. It has happened so fast it is making my head spin--one week from "Would you consider?" to "First day of classes."

So today we organize book bags and make sure we have the right pieces for the school uniforms. We need to get the boys' pencil boxes filled with pencils instead of rocks and stickers. Spiff picked out a new backpack. EB is happy with his current camouflage one.

My friend was so brave to step out and ask if we would consider this. She felt the Lord's leading and followed. She didn't know whether I would be grateful or offended. I am grateful. I am soooo grateful. I wept at the thought of not having my boys home with me, but this will give them stability during the day and will give me a chance to rest and give them the best part of me when they come home after school.

We have a VERY BIG God.

Port-a-Cath Day

During the last few days, Sandy has been recovering very well: she even went shopping and cooked dinner last night. She's now strong enough that they're installing a port in her chest for infusing the chemo drugs.

So, I'm spending the morning in the waiting room at Yale's Temple Surgical center. There are people tossing pies and playing catch with eggs on Regis and Whoever-Is-His-Latest-Cohost. I managed to turn down the TV nearest me before anyone settled into this side of the room. It's now a haven for the people who want a little quiet and there are now several people over here reading.

She's now quietly waiting for surgery, wearing another hot-air gown.

12:00 p.m. Update:

Just talked to the surgeon. He's done and everything went well. I should be able to go into the recovery room shortly.

2:00 p.m. Update:

All done! After a bit of resting and an x-ray to make sure there were no problems, she was released. She's now on the couch, resting with cheeseburger, mikshake, and the A & E (Colin Firth) version of Pride and Prejudice.

I'm off to get the boys, who I hear had a great time playing pirate with KP's kids.

Chloe's Virus Killing Soup

Since I referred to this soup yesterday, I thought I'd better post the recipe. It was posted by Chloe O' the Mountain on Sonlight's Forums, so all notes below are hers. I can testify that it is amazing soup. If cancer was a virus, I'm sure Chloe's soup would be better than chemo.

Chloe's Virus Killing Soup

One chicken
Appx 15-30 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
1 Tbs salt
3-4 Thyme sprigs
Cayenne pepper (to taste. I use about a tsp)
Fresh Rosemary sprigs
Fresh ground pepper

Place chicken and other ingredients n a soup pot (I use my pressure cooker) and cover with water or chicken broth (I really like those boxes of organic chicken broth). Cook on stove top until chicken starts to fall apart. Remove from heat. Strain out chicken and stuff and set aside until cool enough to chop. Reserve broth for next step.

1 large onion (coarsely chopped or sliced)
1 fennel bulb (sliced thin)
1 leek (sliced thin)
4-6 stalks of celery (coarse chopped)
large red pepper (coarse chopped
1/2 lb. carrots (coarse chopped)
2 tbs olive oil
1/2 C good White Wine
salt and pepper

Place oil in bottom of large pot and heat. Add onion, fennel, celery, pepper and leek and sauté until onion just transparent. Add wine and simmer for 3-4 minutes. Cover the vegetables with chicken broth from chicken--add more broth from can or box if you don't have enough broth from chicken and simmer veggies until just tender.

Frozen green beans
Frozen peas
zucchini
flat leaf parsley (chopped)
1-2 cans chopped tomatoes with juice
salt and pepper to taste

Add these above ingredients and simmer until everything is tender. Add chopped chicken, salt and pepper to taste.

No virus can withstand this soup.

You can also add cabbage with the end ingredients if you like (I do!), or any other veggies your family likes. Sometimes I'll throw in whatever is in my veggie bin in addition to the above.

The next day add egg noodles and turn it into chicken noodle soup.

So. . . How is it going?

I thought I'd give y'all an update on how things are going since the surgery.

I'm off the heavy duty drugs except when I get muscle spasms and everything tightens up. Sometimes it gets so tight that it is hard to take a deep breath. 2mg of Valium and a warm rice pack usually helps loosen things up. I am stiff regularly in the morning, so a hot shower is my remedy for that. I don't even want to know what our water bill is going to look like.

If I do too much, I still have Vicodin around, but it doesn't help as much as just resting on the couch and watching Pride and Prejudice (the Colin Firth version). In fact, I think Chloe's Virus Killing Chicken Soup and Pride and Prejudice are now my home remedies for just about everything. If they don't cure you, it's time for professional help.

I still can't lift a full pot of coffee and pour some in my cup. I can however, now lift my full coffee cup. I was limited to half cups at first because otherwise they were too heavy.

I cannot reach the buttons on the microwave unless I stand on our wooden stool. Our microwave is above the stove and is too high otherwise. Basically, I can reach as high as Spiff can. The stool is permanently parked in the kitchen now. I use it to get a coffee mug down from the second shelf in the cabinet each morning. I use it to get food off the top shelf of the refrigerator (although quart containers of food are still to heavy to move around). I cannot reach the chocolate that Joe stashed on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinets. I think he did that on purpose.

I can now wash my own hair. I have to bend over forward completely in the shower so I can reach my hair and wash it, but it gets done. I also get a ton of water up my nose, so my sinuses get cleaned out at the same time. Note to others contemplating a mastectomy--start practicing yoga now. You're going to need it.

I've lost a little weight and my abs have more definition. Since I can't use my arms to help me sit up, I have to do crunches to get out of bed, off the couch, etc. I have been really working out my abdominal muscles. And getting up to get a snack is completely not worth it, so that explains the weight loss.

I'm still not allowed to drive. Since pulling the car door closed with my right hand is still a bit of a challenge, I guess that is a good thing. I'm not doing many quick movements yet, so it is best that I keep myself and the kids off the Merritt Parkway for now.

I'm trying to sit up more and more instead of being at a partial incline. Today I knitted for a couple of hours and it was nice to take that up again. I finished a cabled chemo hat. Then I started another hat in Fair Isle work, so I was really using both hands/arms with that one. The boys interrupted me enough that I never got sore from the knitting.

Things that I am still unable to do and I miss:

• sleeping on my side and stomach
• taking a big stretch in the morning
• tucking my boys in at night (I can't reach far enough to pull the covers up around them)
• being able to sit up pain free long enough to ride to church and attend services (I may bring a pillow next week)
• brushing my hair when it gets messy/ reaching up to scratch my head if I need to
• tie my shoes without having to result in a contortionist's pose

But it's all good. I can brush my teeth with my right hand again. I can carry a small purse now. My boys have learned to make their own breakfast and lunch. And if I am very careful, I can pull an XL men's t-shirt over my head and get it on without hurting myself.

Some More Thoughts About "Why Me?"

I have started to write this many times, only to delete it. It is hard to put into words my thoughts after I go through a bout of "why me?".

We have been teaching our boys the Westminster Catechism. The very first question is "What is the chief end of man?"
Response: "To love God and enjoy Him forever."

So, through cancer or upheaval or all the other so many prayer requests, we are to love God, to glorify Him, and to enjoy Him.

I don't know why I got cancer. I do know that God could have chosen to stop it, if He wanted to. So this must be my calling for now. I was kind of hoping for a Wycliff translator kind of deal, but when you tell God "Here I am, use me as you will," you really have to mean it. And sometimes He sends you to a place that is much more personally scary than a jungle with bad food and big bugs.

For right now, this is my mission field. It is a scary place to be. But as long as God is sustaining me and giving me the strength, I will tell people of the awesome ways He is providing for me, caring for me, and holding me up.

Some days my strength falters and I cry out here. The prayer warriors here lift my requests up to God with me and He hears our prayers. He is so faithful! It has taught me that I need to pray more for others because I have seen just how powerful prayer can be.

Some days my attitude sinks and again, I cry out to others. Then someone offers a word of hope, or just the perfect Scripture or internet link to make me see things in a different way. It has taught me to step out and try to comfort others because I know what a balm those words of comfort can be and how much the "cloud of witnesses that surrounds us" are part of God's plan for us to all to work together as one Body.

I don't know specifically why God chose for me to have cancer. But I do know that He has used it for His glory to change me in ways I didn't think were possible. And who knows? Maybe someone out there, through what has happened to me, will come to a saving knowledge of Christ. So, as long as He lets me, I'm going to keep telling people about what He is doing.

In Response to My Day That Was Supposed to be Good

When I posted the results of my lymph node biopsies on the Sonlight Forums, the response was a flood of prayers and support. I know some people don't understand the draw of "e-maginary" friends on a forum, but the friendships I have made there are real and I treasure them. We laugh and cry and pray together. We share the common bonds of homeschooling, love of books, and most of all, love of God.

One of the responses that helped me the most came from someone who has battled cancer herself, and is still sparring with it. She said:

Oh my! That's a lot to take in at one time. I'm sending gentle hugs your way, and cyber hand holding too.

While our journeys are different, some aspects are the same. I know those feelings. I'm acquainted with bursting bubbles and balloons. I know how high that hill you're climbing looks tonight.

The psychologist who runs the support group I used to go to told me something he's learned in his journey with cancer. Pain and hurt are present things. They can be dealt with in the present. Suffering is what you get when you project them into the future. Only deal with what you have to deal with today. And find something in each day to enjoy. (Yes, I'm trying hard to listen to my own advice!)

Today you got rid of the last of those blasted tubes! That's worth celebrating!

My thoughts and prayers are with you, Sandy.

Oh -- as for the next step --Having a port put in isn't bad at all. They give you nice, happy meds. You'll be glad you have it.

She gave me permission to post her response here so that those of you not on the forums could read it as well. It has helped me put things back in perspective. Things still aren't easy, but I need to keep my focus on this portion of the trail, not on the hill ahead of me.

Please keep Connie in your prayers as well. September is Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month.

Today was SUPPOSED to be a good day. . .

I went to see the plastic surgeon today and had the other two drains taken out. I was rejoicing that they were finally gone. My torso just feels so much better now. I wasn't nearly as drugged up this time, but happy to have them go. Joe and I stopped by Dairy Queen for an Arctic Freeze (didn't they used to call them Mr. Misty?) to celebrate.

And then we went to the oncologist's office. She does not have the results on the CT scans back yet, but she called and found out the results of the lymph node biopsies from my surgery.

The surgeon took 2 nodes first, and 1 was positive for cancer. Then he removed another 4 and 2-3 of them were positive for cancer. So he removed 13 more and sent them to the lab for testing. Of the last 13 removed, six tested positive for cancer. Now I know why the muscles in my right armpit have been so sore. They removed a lot of nodes!

My cancer is now considered Stage 3. Since they found it in so many nodes, she said that there is a high risk of recurrence--so I'm going to have two months of radiation after the chemo. The oncologist wants me to get the port-a-cath put in next week, if I can, which would be a half-day outpatient procedure. Then she'd like to start chemo as early as the 18th of this month, although she said we could wait until the 25th if I didn't feel physically or mentally up to starting on the 18th.

How am I supposed to feel "up to" chemo? I have 16 weeks of chemo ahead of me, followed by 2 months of daily radiation treatments, followed by 6-8 years of Tamoxifen and about 5 years of another drug. I'm still not supposed to be raising my arms above my head or lifting anything.

I feel like I was this great big happy balloon after getting out the drains, and then somebody pulled the plug on the balloon. All the air came out of me and the world made this great big raspberry sound.

I'm back at the "why me?" stage right now.

What a Good Night's Sleep Will Do. . .

I slept on the couch last night. I just couldn't handle another night on my back in the bed. I'm not normally a back sleeper, so sleeping has been hard. Anyway, I have a wedge pillow that is at a 45 degree angle. With it on the couch and my pillows placed just right, it "almost" felt like I was sleeping on my side. What bliss!

Hanna's rains have subsided for the moment and the sun is out (though there are dark clouds coming, so another wave of rain is on the way). The air looks clean and fresh. My coffee is on the table and smells wonderful. Spiff is about to bring a huge mug of it up to his daddy. Hank is prowling around looking for a playmate. Entropy Boy is playing dodge ball on the Game Cube with the Monster's Inc game.

It is a good morning.

Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

Today was not the best of days. In fact, a good portion of it pretty much stank. I'm still kind of cranky about it, so please bear with me.

I had been scheduled for an MRI of my head on Thursday, but that was changed to a CT scan today instead: since the expanders in my chest contain metal, Dr. S said that I should not have an MRI unless I want my chest to grow suddenly, quickly, and painfully.

The oncologist's assistant and I thought it would be quicker and easier to schedule the CT at Griffin Hospital on a Saturday, instead of at Yale, since Griffin is only 5 minutes away from us across the river. Boy, were we wrong.

Griffin Hospital recently remodeled. It has a nice waiting area, nice decor, and nice landscaping. They even have Asian-inspired faux-stone outdoor speakers along the walkway. As we entered the hospital, a Muzak version of Petula Clark's "Downtown" was blaring out of them. Joe pitied the people who live across the street that living across the street, who have hospital-Muzak as part of the music of their lives.

You're not allowed to eat or drink anything for 4 hours before a CT scan, so I hadn't had breakfast. Or my morning coffee. Or my morning pain meds. The drive to the hospital, even 5 minutes away, was painful. We parked, walked the Muzak gauntlet, and asked at the front desk where we should check in for a CT scan. They directed us to ER admitting--on the other side of the hospital. Off we trooped, slowly, because walking is still painful. Have you ever thought about how much your upper body muscles help you balance when you walk? You are constantly making adjustments. Without my pain meds, I felt each of those adjustments . Especially where my bra strap rubbed against the spots where they stapled the surgical drape to me.

We finally made it through the labyrinth to the ER admitting to find out that they don't do radiology check in until after 12 pm. It was 11:15 am, so we needed to go back to In/Out Patient Admitting, which is more than 1/2 way back the way we came in. Back we walked.

We got my name on a waiting list to do the admission paperwork. Meanwhile, the boys were happily playing Nintendo DS in the waiting room. The admissions clerk commented on how well-behaved they were. Evidently, that's not normal in the admission area.

I completed the paperwork and we went back to the waiting area. And we waited. And we waited. Eventually the admissions clerks all went home because it was after 12 noon and all admitting was now done through the ER. Joe, bless him, found the one clerk who had not yet left and asked her to call the CT lab to find out when I could get in. By this time, I was rocking back and forth slightly, trying to breathe through the pain. Due to the delays and my 4 hour no-food-or-drink schedule, it had been 12 hours since I had taken pain medication. The chairs were horribly uncomfortable and I just wanted to go home.

The admissions clerk took pity on me and escorted me back to the CT lab. She could take the short cut that says "Authorized Personnel Only," so the walk was much shorter. There was only one tech on duty and she was running behind. She put me in a tiny waiting area and prepped the room for me. When it was ready, I finally got my CT scan. It was more comfortable lying on that hard table than it had been sitting in the waiting room chairs. The scan only took 15 minutes. Afterwards the tech said "Oh, you could have taken your pain medication. They never tell people that, but you can." Aaaargh!

So the CT is over. I am not enamored with Griffin Hospital. Yale is bigger and just seems to run a tighter ship. I have confidence in the care I receive there. Griffin, not so much.

As we walked out, Spiff saw how slowly I was walking. He came back to me and took my arm so I could lean on him. His little heart is so big for such a young boy. I wish this wasn't the way he had to learn some of these lessons.

The hospital visit wore all of us out. I spent the rest of the day on the couch, trying to get comfortable again (a Vicodin and some dark chocolate helped).

After dinner, tropical storm Hannah was dumping down rain in the neighborhood. Joe took the boys out with their umbrellas and went for a walk in the storm. It was warm and drenching and they had a wonderful time. Eventually they put down their umbrellas and just danced and played.

It's amazing that a tropical storm can be the highlight of the day.

Joe Doesn't Want Me to Blog This Morning

I had an appt this morning with the plastic surgeon. I took my antibiotic as usual, and then decided to take 1/2 a Valium because my muscles were really tight. I had slept through the night (yea!) but was sore from laying in one position all night.

Well, about 1/2 an hour before we left for the doctor's office I realized that just the Valium was not going to cut the pain of one of the drains being taken out. So I took a Vicodin. It's ok to take them together, but I had been cutting back from the meds because I tend to do too much when I take them too often. I don't want to become dependent on them and I don't want to develop a tolerance for them.

Well, by the time I got to the plastic surgeon's office, I was feeling FINE. [giggle] Joe escorted me in while I cheerfully greeted Dr. S. He looked at my drains chart and said that *two* of them could come out today. [happy dancing!]

So I was happily chatting away while the drains were prepped for removal. Joe was muttering under his breath about me being stoned and how he was going to hide the snacks at home in case I got the munchies.

I am now down to two drains and those two should come out on Monday. After Joe left for work, the boys and I broke out a box of chocolate covered mini donuts. It has been a good morning, but Joe doesn't want me to blog about it because he's worried I won't be coherent.

I figure that if I'm coherent enough to add a new cluster map at the bottom of the page, I should be coherent enough to type a blog entry.

Too bad we don't have any brownies left. . .

Stage II is now Stage III

I saw the regular surgeon today for a quick check-in on the wounds. They look good, he said, and expects that the plastic surgeon will take out at least one of the drains tomorrow.

The lab results haven't come back from the additional lymph nodes that he took out after the sentinel nodes, but he said we already know it has spread to my lymph nodes to some extent because it showed up in the first ones he took. My cancer is now considered Stage III because it has entered the nodes. That means little bits of it are floating around in my body and we will have to be aggressive with the chemotherapy to kill it all. That part is a bit worrisome to me. Now instead of worrying about it coming back, I get to worry about killing it all off in the first place.

But I'm not going to dwell on it. It is time to take every thought captive.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is fair, whatever is pure, whatever is acceptable, whatever is commendable, if there is anything of excellence and if there is anything praiseworthy-keep thinking about these things. Philippians 4:8

I have two little men-in-the-making who need some stability and rest in their lives right now. They miss getting hugs (my arms aren't quite up to it yet) and snuggles. Spiff cuddled up next to me on the couch before bed tonight and said "I wish you weren't going through this." I told him that I agreed, but since I am, I am very glad to have him with me as I do. He helps me feel better just by being himself.

I Am Not a Super Hero

I am not a super hero. I'm not even a mediocre hero. Today I got dressed in something other than pajamas, and made my own coffee. I had Spiff help me toast a bagel and wash my hair. I handed the boys some folded laundry that needed to be put away and got them started on school. That pretty much did me in for the day. I'm bushed.

I've decided Spiff is a better hair-washer than Joe. At 8yo, he has had help washing his hair more recently than Joe has, so he knows the routine: lean over the tub, spray with the hand-held shower extension, lather, rinse, towel dry. So this time around, all the shampoo came out of my hair and I look less like a cat licked me clean.

A friend of mine stopped over briefly this morning, but I was hurting from doing too much in the morning so she didn't stay long (sorry C!). I'm on the new schedule for my meds, so I have to wait longer before I can take them again. I called the friend that was scheduled to come over this afternoon and canceled because I'm going to take a nap.

Spiff is playing Animal Crossing and amassing large quantities of bells. Entropy Boy is talking smack to his competitors on Lego Racers. He's so funny. "Think you can beat me? Eat my dust! Vroooom!" "Curse you, dinosaur! Stop trying to knock me off the track!"

Ahhh. The drugs have kicked in. I'm off to la-la land.

Map Update: Friends Everywhere!

I'm done experimenting with the maps and settled on the basic Google map. It looks like we had someone check in from Africa and Austrailia today, so we've now had visits from every continent except Antarctica. Sandy says she's not sure there's anyone homeschooling down there...

First Post-Op Visit to the Doctor

I worked from home today to help with the transition into our "new normal" life for a while. The boys did a bit of schoolwork on the couch with Mom and helped with a bit of housework to earn a bit of video game time. Everything stopped, however, when a tow truck pulled up to take away the Saturn, which we've donated to a Breast Cancer charity:

(Photo by Spiff)

Sandy's good friend BF stopped by to help this afternoon. She brought a wonderful meal, folded a little laundry, and helped comb Sandy's hair. (Yea, no more wet cat!) She also watched the boys while we went to see the plastic surgeon.

The surgeon said that the wounds are all clean and that she's healing well. After looking at the drains, he showed us a different way to wrap them in gauze and it seems to have reduced her pain considerably. We learned that the most painful area is where they stapled the drape to her during the surgery. He also adjusted the dosing of the pain medication because he's concerned about her developing a tolerance. We're going to visit him again on Friday and he may take one of the drains out.

Yesterday and this evening, Sandy and the boys have been enjoying DVDs from the 4-h care package. I Love Lucy had Spiff laughing out loud and I think they watched Madagascar three times. The top of the piano is almost full: Six get-get well cards, and flowers from my parents arrived today. They're sitting next to the ones from MP gave us from her garden yesterday. She dropped them off as she was picking up Spiff for a day of fun at the beach and playing Star Wars with his friend H. He got to wear the Clone Trooper outfit and brought all three of his light sabers. BE sent me a caregiver care package, which I'm enjoying as I write.

Would you please pray for my pain level?

My actual mastectomy sites don't really hurt that much. But where they put in the tubes for the drains *really* hurts. I have 4 drains and my skin is stitched around the tubes. The base of my compression bra pushes against the tubes, so there is always a bit of pressure on them.

There is also a spot on my back near my shoulder blade that is really sore. It has a small abrasion on it, but feels like the muscle in that area is bruised as well. The home-health nurse that saw me Sunday said the abrasions don't seem to be anything to worry about. The bruised feeling didn't start until yesterday afternoon (long after she left). I'm thinking that the strap of the compression bra I was wearing that day was pressing on that portion of my shoulder blade and caused some bruising. I am still very limited as to how I can lay, so I guess bed sores wouldn't be out of the question either.

But what it comes down to is that when dh and I do my daily cleaning and redressing of the drain tubes, I am ready to pass out from the pain by the time we are done. Dh is so gentle, but I am sobbing by the end. I don't cry easily, but it just really hurts.

Could you please pray for an alleviation of the pain? I see the plastic surgeon tomorrow afternoon so I will also check with him to see if there is anything more we can do from his end as well.

Thank you so much,

Sandy