Radiation and Other Spring Activities

I completed week 1 of radiation on Friday with very little drama (the server was down at the hospital on Thursday, so I had to come back later in the day, but I'm still on schedule!).  For those of you who don't know much about radiation (I suspect this is most of you), I'll describe it the best I can.  I told you in the last post that there are little black marks all over my chest, covered by little pieces of tape.  The first day of radiation lasts an extra long time because I have to have x-rays taken.  Basically, I change into a hospital gown and lay down on a table.  Then a green grid appears on my chest (kind of a laser light show) and 2-3 lab techs (who are all wonderful, lovely people) pull and tug on my gown until the green grid lines up perfectly with the marks on my chest.  This photo shows what the machine basically looks like.  The bed I lay on remains still (but my arms are back, behind my head, holding onto a handle bar), and the machine rotates around me, doing it's thing.  I imagine it's shooting little lasers at me -- it honestly all seems so sci fi when I'm laying there. 

 The normal routine lasts about 5 - 10 minutes from the time I lay down to when I'm allowed to relax my arms and get up off the bed. The most important thing to note is that I do not feel anything when the radiation is happening.  It's only a couple hours after treatment that I start to notice tightness and redness.  To remedy this, I simply do my physical therapy stretches and cover my chest in aloe.  The most annoying thing is the radiation burn (basically like a sunburn).  I have always prided myself on keeping my skin protected from sunburns, so to look down at my chest and see old-looking, leathery skin is no fun.  This is when I have to remind myself that it's so much better than breast cancer!  As of today, I have 22 treatments to go (4 1/2 weeks).
I've continued to get a positive response to my hair, along with requests for more pictures (sorry for the delay).  Here is the latest, taken last night:

5-15-11

In other news, our yard is looking fantastic these days, thanks to a little hard work and a lot of help from mom-in-law, who was here for Mother's day, and Jenny, who was here after my surgery.  I managed to plant a flower bed and was sore for a week afterward.  My body just isn't used to doing much of anything anymore.  But I'm building back up my strength and endurance, slowly but surely.

Flower bed in front of house -- vinca and impatiens

Foxglove on side of house

The most unusual-looking plant, leatherleaf mahonia, on side of house

Jenny, who visited at the end of March, with the self-watering container she constructed and tomato plant

Left:  tomato plant Jenny put in self-watering container.  Right:  same type of tomato plant that I neglected for way too long.  Guess which is healthier?

Herbs and other plants on back patio, now with fun green stands, thanks to mom-in-law

Gorgeous blue hydrangea bushes in the back yard

Front porch adirondack chairs painted and assembled by Aaron.  I picked out the paint color :)

 

 

 

 

Hair Diaries and Boring Cancer News

Sorry for the delayed post.  I really am determined to document my hair growth in a timely manner!  This week I turned the corner from being fuzzy-headed to actually looking like I have an intentional hair style.  I can comb my hair.  The other night at dinner Aaron remarked "you're hair is sticking out on the side."  I had taken a nap earlier and it had gotten messed up.  I HAD BED HEAD!   After months of no hair, I have to retrain myself to check things over in the mirror before leaving the house.  I have not done anything to style my hair, but now when I'm out in public instead of the stares and "oh, I wonder if she has cancer" looks, I'm getting compliments.  "I love your hair."  "I love your hair color."  I get a kick out of saying "Thanks!  It's natural!"  People have no idea I'm excited to have hair of any color.  See for yourself:

4-30-11

 

 

It's still coming in very blond and surprisingly straight.  I mentioned in a previous post that most people's hair grows back curly after chemo, at least at first.  I hadn't given a thought to the texture of my hair until a cancer friend (the unflattering term I give to wonderful people whom I never would have met were it not for cancer)  recently commented how straight it's coming in.  No Taylor Swift locks in the immediate future, but that's okay.
In boring cancer news, I had my CT "planning" session with the nice radiation people, and we are all set for a start date of May 9.  The planning session consisted of me laying in a CT machine, arms behind my head (This made the nurse comment "You have good arm movement!"  Those physical therapy sessions are paying off!), while my body is scanned for ten minutes or so.  The scan produces a 3D image that doc studies, and then the lab people come in to put black X's all over my chest with a Sharpie and cover the marks with clear tape to mark where I'll have radiation.  The tape is supposed to stay put for 7 weeks.  For real.  The marks show exactly where I need radiation, so the nurses reminded me about 10 times that the tape needs to stay on.  (In the past, they tattooed these marks to ensure they stayed on the body for the duration of radiation.  I guess now they just have faith in their patients to not mess with the tape.)
At the end of the appointment they handed me an "education booklet" with lots of contradictory information about how to care for irradiated skin:  "A lukewarm bath is very soothing after radiation."  "Avoid soaking irradiated area of the skin."  Regarding the marks and tape:  "Avoid direct water contact."  Call me crazy, but I shower every day.  That's a whole lot of direct water contact.  Luckily, the tape is holding up really well so far.  Thanks, "Beekley Pointguards!"  Yes, the company name is printed on each piece of the tape, along with the company's 1-800 number.  Seriously.  I wish I were joking.  My chest is covered in tiny advertisements.
On a brighter note, Mom-in-law and Dad-in-law will be here this weekend to celebrate Mother's Day.  I hope all the moms out there celebrate the best way they know how:  by sending the guys off to the golf course while the ladies drink bloody marys on the porch.  :)

Just in time for Easter: I'm a fuzzy chick (More Hair Diaries)

We have been taking the pictures every Friday, but they usually haven't been making their appearance on the blog until Mondays, mainly because I'm easily distracted and more than a little lazy.  Maybe if I put them in sequence it will be easier to see the fuzz growth?  Can you tell I'm really REALLY proud of my fuzz?

4-8-11

4-15-11

4-22-11

The lighting is a little odd in the last picture, making my hair look darker than it appears in real life.  But Aaron was grading papers when I asked him to take my weekly fuzz head shot, and I didn't want to be too annoying, so I just let him stay where he was comfortably sitting.

Speaking of Aaron, the other night he started calling me "Tin Tin."   I had absolutely no idea where he got this, but he told me it was a favorite comics from childhood.  Apparently my current hairstyle reminds Aaron of this.  Here is the cartoon in question with his faithful sidekick, Snowy:

Of course, Mr. Tin Tin has a bit more up top than I do, and when I get that much hair, I hope to more closely resemble the model in this Nieman Marcus ad:

I won't magically shrink down to a size 0, but we're not all meant to be that skinny, right?!

In other, slightly less-fun news, I started physical therapy this week.  I am basically back to my pre-surgery self, but I still don't have full range of motion in my left (cancer side) arm.  I am also experiencing "cording" (axillary web syndrome for you medical types) which basically means that it feels like a tight cord is attached from my armpit (where they removed lymph nodes) down to my elbow.  This, as you can imagine, is part of the flexibility problem.  I have to be able to hold the "movie star pose" (hand behind head, arm bent at elbow, laying flat on table) for 10 minutes at a time for each radiation treatment, so I'm trying to regain my flexibility through a serious of stretches.  It's painful, but I can already tell a difference!

Also, I've started wearing a compression sleeve because I have a moderate-to-high risk of developing lymphedema (swelling due to a blockage of the lymph passages).  I am doing my best to wear it each day, but as it gets warmer and warmer outside, the last thing I want to do is put on a tight-fitting, hideous sleeve!  But if I can avoid my arm swelling up, it will well be worth it.  I'm lop-sided enough as it is, these days! :)

Happy Easter to all!!!

Hair Diaries

I'm attempting to take weekly pictures of my hair to document the growth which seems to be happening at lightning speed.  At some point I can print out all of my hair diary pictures to create a flip book.  I haven't worn my wig in a week and a half now, and I have no intention of doing so in the future.  The hair is still very soft and very blond, and it will be interesting to watch how the texture/color changes as it grows in!

Who's fuzzier?

I'll check in next week with another update and more hair on my fuzzy head!

Just Call Me Mrs. Fuzzy Head

I can't believe it has been 3 1/2 weeks since my mastectomy.  I continue to get stronger every day and am starting to feel like my old self.  There are still a few rude reminders that I may not be 100% back to normal:  I still get neuropathy (tingling numbness) in my feet if I walk around too much; pushing the shopping cart around Target is a burden, when it previously had been one of my favorite activities; squeezing lemons and limes for fresh juice in my spring cocktail now has to be done by my husband; opening jars has to be done by my husband; dragging the trash to the curb has to be done by...well, you get the picture.  I secretly think Aaron likes having the extra opportunities to flex his muscles.  

There are, however, also reminders that life is returning to normal.  On Friday night, Aaron and I were getting ready to go to dinner.  Usually this involves me touching up my makeup and putting on my wig.  After globbing on some mascara (my lashes are growing in nicely, thank you very much), I said "I think I'm going to rock the fuzzy head in public tonight."  It's been in the upper 80s for the past couple of days, and my wig is just too darn hot and itchy, especially atop my new found fuzz.  Aaron was excited about the prospect of being seen with me:  "People are going to think I'm way cooler than I actually am because I'm with you!"  Yes, there are people who may think I decided to buzz off my hair because I'm just that hard core.

 

The reality is, of course, that my hair is finally growing in.  After months of looking like a cue ball with a few straggly hairs that never fell out, my head is now covered with baby soft fuzz.  This has caused a great deal of excitement in our household.  For one thing, we think our beloved cat, Ollie, is feeling a tad jealous of his mom's new fuzz.  When we're sitting on the couch at night watching TV, Aaron will find himself petting his wife instead of the cat.  When I drop Aaron at work, I used to just get a kiss goodbye.  Now I get a kiss AND a head rub.  We had friends over on Saturday night to celebrate patio season, and I was greeted with many hugs and head rubs.  It seems it's just instinctive to want to pet a fuzzy noggin, whether it be on a cat, dog or human.  I can't blame them.  In fact, I like it.  Is our household big enough for a fuzzy cat AND a fuzzy wife?  Time will tell.  Luckily for the cat, my fuzzy state is only temporary.

Cancer Free

First of all, I'd like to say huge thanks for all the prayers and well-wishes over the past couple of weeks.  I made it through the surgery just fine and am doing pretty great now that I'm 11 days out, though I still have physical and visual reminders of the surgery.  Physical:  I feel really sore (It feels like there is a constant knot in my right lower back that needs to be worked out by a massage therapist, and I feel as though I've been training for a power lifting competition, yet my purse is too heavy to carry for more than a couple of minutes (this comes as a surprise to no one who has ever seen a purse of mine, but for the first time ever, my huge purse actually feels like a hindrance).  Visual reminders: one drainage tube is still coming from my back where the docs grabbed the tissue for my reconstruction; the fact that my chest looks entirely different now; the surgical tape covering every incision the docs made; the permanent marker the plastic surgeon used to scrawl over my entire back even though he was cutting from a tiny spot on my latissimus dorsi...Obviously I could go on and on.  The point is that despite the physical and visual reminders, I am healing really well. 
The first days after surgery were pretty rough.  My first nurse in recovery was determined to have me up and walking the first evening, never mind the fact that I had just had surgery that afternoon.  Sitting up for the first time after surgery was probably the most painful thing I've ever had to do in my 30 years, and I *calmly* told the nurse that there must be something else she could do for my pain in order for me to stand up and walk.  It turns out a shot of morphine did just the trick.  I successfully walked the hallway outside of my hospital room.  Aaron could see how much pain I was in told me he was proud of me.  He knows I thrive on compliments.  Aaron spent the first night in my hospital room, and he and mom-in-law spent every day in my room with me, watching me sleep and watching the NCAA basketball tournament.  Judging by some of the match-ups, I'm not sure which was more entertaining at times.
The docs were encouraged by how well I was healing and wanted to send me home on Friday, but this was delayed due to the nausea I was feeling because of all the pain meds.  I turns out putting a whole mess of Percocet and morphine in an empty tummy does not make for keeping much food down.  I finally got home on Saturday afternoon and everything has been much easier since.  Aaron and mom-in-law had the sofa bed pulled out for me, complete with about 20 pillows, fresh flowers, cards and presents waiting for me.
Interestingly, the hardest part of recovery has been sleeping!  Sitting up is basically no problem, but due to the lat-flap procedure, comfortably laying down for a snooze is just about the most difficult thing ever, but I'm taking comfort in the fact that this whole surgery (and cancer) business will be a distant memory soon enough.
I have had two follow-up appointments since the surgery.  On Thursday I met with my radiation oncologist to discuss my radiation plan.  We are going to be very aggressive with radiation due to the size of my tumor and the lymph nodes that were also involved.  The pathology report stated that the size of the tumor removed was 2.9 centimeters (down from 4 cm when I was originally diagnosed), and 9 lymph nodes were removed from my arm pit (6 of which were positive for cancer).  The good news is that the margins of the tumor were clear and my chest wall was not affected by cancer.  Thus, I can state that I am cancer free.  There are many more tests to undergo, but I am trying to relish the fact that all of that nasty cancer was successfully removed from my body. 
The plan for radiation is to do 28 treatments over the course of 5 1/2 weeks.  This means I'll get zapped for 10 minutes a day, 5 days a week.  Everyone who has gone through it says it's nothing compared to chemotherapy, so I'm honestly not dreading it that much.  Also, we won't start radiation until approximately 5 weeks from now, when my body has healed from surgery. 
I also went to the plastic surgeon yesterday.  He looked at his work and declared it beautiful (um, good for him?), and sent the nurse in to take out two of my surgical drains.  This was a happy, if painful, moment.  Having to deal with one's own grossness seeping into surgical drains is not the most pleasant experience.  I am overjoyed to be down to one drain now!
So slowly everything is getting back to normal.  I am taking less pain pills with each passing day, and I'm able to lift my arms higher and do more for myself.  Mom-in-law departed on Tuesday and our good friend, Jenny (also from Minnesota), arrived at our house on Wednesday.  I'm not sure if these Minnesotans actually want to be here to "take care of me" or if they are just chasing the sunshine.  I'll take the company either way.  It is truly beautiful in Atlanta, and the signs of spring keep coming.  There is a huge amount of wisteria in our back yard that is quite breathtaking, and everywhere I look, I have potted flowers and herbs.  We've also improved our back patio with some new chairs, pillows and a big umbrella.  I'm not sure if there is a prescription for sitting outside in the warmth of sunshine, but I can feel the healing powers.

Ollie enjoying a flower arrangement sent by Uncle John and Aunt Deb

Tulips by the front steps

Plants on the back deck

Wisteria!

Me and Aaron

Me and Jenny, enjoying the great outdoors...er...outdoor patios

Signs of Spring

It's March, and in the South that means spring is here (again, I say this with apologies to friends who live in areas of the country where there is still snow on the ground). Everywhere I look there are buds, blooms and grass slowly returning to green.  Except for ours.  Our grass is still dormant, and any green peeking through is actually a weed on which Aaron has declared war.  I've actually heard him talking to the weeds when we are walking through the back yard:  "Just wait.  I've got a new bottle of weed killer.  You're gonna get it this weekend!"  It's his first spring as a home (and yard) owner, and he's taking it quite seriously.

Blooms from our front yard

Other signs of growth abound, too!  I'm most excited about the tiny hairs that are starting to sprout on my lash line.  They certainly aren't long enough to hold any mascara, but they are there and they are growing, and they are a sign of what is to come.  I obsessively check on them every day with my 10x magnifying makeup mirror and I make Aaron look at them as well: 
"Look, baby!  My tiny eyelashes are even longer today!" 
"Yes, Joycie, I see them."
"But look, they're longer than yesterday!"
"I trust you."

He's never quite as excited about them as I am for some reason.  Also, I was sitting in the sun the other day when I looked down and thought that my eyes were deceiving me.  There was baby fine hair on my legs.  It was so fine that I couldn't even feel it, and so blond that I really had to be in the sun to see it, but it was there.  I had been bragging to everyone who would listen that I had silky smooth legs minus the shaving.  It was the only good thing about chemo.  Three days ago I picked up a razor for the first time since October, and I did so happily.  It seems there is something about this ritual in the shower that I missed, something that made me feel very feminine.  And now I have it again.  I'm sure I'll be complaining about shaving again in a month, but today it makes me happy.

And there is a bit more peach fuzz on top of my head these days.  It is very, very soft, fine, and blond/white.  It is also very sparse.  When I look in the mirror, I am definitely still a bald person.  However, when sitting on the couch with Aaron, I always catch him staring at the top of my head.  "I swear your hair is getting longer," he'll say.  I guess he is more excited about the prospect of having a wife with hair on her head than her lash line.

Finally, it seems I forgot to mention one *tiny* detail in my previous post.  My surgery has been moved up one week, which means I am set for surgery this coming Wednesday, March 16.  My oncologist said that 6 weeks after my last chemo infusion would be the optimal time for surgery, so that's what we're going with!  I am tempted to lie and say that I am feeling very brave and not worried at all about the loss of boobs/pain/recovery time/surgical drains/etc...  But the truth is I'm kind of freaking out.  It's not that I think anything will go wrong; I know everything will be fine.  As I've said before, I have complete faith in my surgeons.  It's just that the anticipation is killing me!  Yes, cancer can't kill me, but anticipation just might.  I want to get this over with.  Luckily, mom-in-law will be here Sunday evening to distract me during the final days before I roll into the operating room.  She has informed me that she's bringing with her an army of recipes sure to make me whole again, so to speak.  Sounds like I won't be eating much hospital food after all, thank God!