Wednesday, May 29, 2019
On the Occasion of My Three Year Lumpiversary
Time both crawled and flew over the next few days, weeks, and months as the surgery, treatment, and recovery plan materialized. Through it all I was surrounded by angels everywhere. The surgeons, nurses, assistants, staff, and counselors at every turn were helpful before I even realized I needed help. My family, blood and extended, was in it for every moment. Friends near and far showed up in ways I could never have imagined. I have always said that I am the luckiest person I know. I believe that to this day.
It is mind-boggling to think that all of this started three whole years ago, and Only three years ago, all at the same time. But it did. It would be ridiculous to try to sum up the last three years in one post, so I'll focus on life today, instead.
Every morning I wake up thankful to be here. Even when I feel lousy, I am grateful! I knew far too many people who were not so lucky. I also wake up with a very small, very quiet voice in the back of my head who whispers, "Is this the day? Is it back? Would you know if it was? You got way too lucky. You had no right to be that lucky. It will be back, and you won't get that lucky again." No matter what studies or doctors say, that voice is still there. Mind you, I don't listen to the voice. I acknowledge that it exists, bid it a good morning and get on with my day. Most of the time. Some days, when I'm exhausted, I feel "off" or I feel anything odd, that voice is harder to ignore. Here's the thing, acknowledging that voice won't make its words true. It won't make them Not True either. It just is. And I just am. I will continue to Be, until I am no longer. I chose to make peace with the voice, the fear, the angst, the worry, so that I can take one breath after the other and enjoy the life I have for however long I have it.
I still have pain along the sides of my implants. I still feel exhausted. I still spend a lot of time on the weekends resting and recharging from the week. I know that when I am not meditating and doing yoga I feel worse than when I am, and yet, I still resist on many days. Why is this? I must do better. I will do better.
I have met the love of my life and we are creating a beautiful future together. I want to live for many, many years to enjoy that life with her. I want to be here to celebrate the Monster's high school and college graduation, to celebrate his wedding to whomever he chooses, if he chooses. I want to be here to meet his children, should he decide to have them. I want to be here to celebrate all of those things with my students, friends, and family, too. I want to live to see the realization of my dreams. So, Little Voice be damned! I am here. I will be here.
As always, please reach out if you or someone you love is facing a cancer diagnosis. I will do whatever I can to help you fight. Until this damn disease no longer exists, I will fight with you and for you.
Today and every day, I am grateful to each of you for being part of Amy's Army. I am grateful to have you in my life, whether online or IRL. I am grateful for every moment. Every. Moment. Always. Be kind to yourselves and to each other.
Peace
#glovesup
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| The Affirmations Project was one of the highlights of the last year. |
Saturday, September 30, 2017
Never Saw It Coming
That said, every once in a while I am overcome with rage, despair, pain, and exhaustion beyond my power to fight. I wish I could see those moments coming, but I haven't figured out how to do that yet. Thursday, when the news of Julia LoiusDreyfus' breast cancer diagnosis popped up on my screen at work, I was seized with a unexpected wave of crippling rage and hopelessness beyond my control to ride. I tried to swallow all of those feelings and keep working, but the lump in my throat felt like it filled my entire chest. I excused myself, found a friend in the hall, and asked for a hug, and silently shook with sobs as he patiently held me steady. Then I ran upstairs to the private bathroom and collapsed in a fit of burning tears silently screaming, "No more! Damnit, NO MORE!" I ugly cried. I really ugly cried, my face splotchy red and purple with a nose that glowed like Rudolph's.
I couldn't go back into the office looking like that, so instead found a tiny niche in the conference room between a sideboard and bench, grabbed a pillow, and clutched it to my burning, aching chest, fighting to stem the tide. Of course someone came into the conference room to work just a few moments later. The sight of me in a mottled heap on the floor startled her, but she did just the right thing. She sat with me. She didn't ask questions, she didn't try to fix it, she just sat with me so I wasn't alone. In those moments, that was exactly what I needed. Eventually I was able to focus on my breathing and calm myself enough to return to work. Having a regular mindfulness meditation practice helped a lot as I fought to recover myself. I was able to step out of my head for a moment and focus on the breath flowing in and out of my lungs. While I couldn't do that in the instant that the wave hit, I did get there more quickly than I could have in the past.
Being the Betty I am, of course I had to start dissecting the episode as soon as I could think again. And, in a shocking turn of events, it turns out that I am not okay with not being okay. It would seem, however, that I am not as okay as I thought I was. I thought I was, "Fine," with all of it: breast cancer, double mastectomy, missing out on a giant chunk of the last year, reconstruction, pain...so much pain, and exhaustion that never seems to abate. I thought I didn't need to worry about not knowing what size or kind of bra I should be wearing, not knowing if the feeling would ever come back in my perky new breasts, and not knowing if anyone would ever find me romantically attractive again. I guess I was wrong.
I didn't realize that, after hurricane Harvey devastated so much of Texas, and Irma looked to do the same to us, disaster-prep and sleeping in the closet with the dog took a toll on me. I didn't realize how much I was feeling the bombardment of political ugliness. The vitriol constantly flung about like Mardi Gras beads in a parade attacked like tiny paper cuts to my, tender peace-and-love soul. One at a time they hurt, but bleed just a little. En masse, they can cause an excruciating exsanguination. The loss of another friend to this damn disease, the loss of a beautiful elementary school just down the street from ours in post-Irma electrical fire, and a mountain of post-cancer debt that I fear I will never summit, together created the perfect storm. My body, mind, and spirit said, "No more."
Now I realize it was too much. I am a painfully sensitive and empathic person. I have always known this, but apparently have never really learned how to handle it. Clearly I have work to do. When I started this breast cancer journey, and turned the focus of the blog to it, I promised myself I would be honest and show the good and the bad of every day so others would know that they were not alone. What I just realized today is that on bad days, I avoided writing altogether, rather than putting the negativity out there. I am sorry that I made that choice. It is so important for all of us to know that we are not alone in our anger, pain, or fear, regardless of our journey. I looked back at the brilliant book Love Warrior by Glennon Doyle Melton today and was smacked between the eyes with this gem. "My grief is a solid brick wall in front of me. I want to bulldoze through it, scale it, tear it down a brick at a time. I'm desperate to get to the other side of the wall so I can see what's waiting for me down the path." That is how I addressed my diagnosis and treatment from the first moment. Let's get through this so I can get on to the next part! Apparently that approach is only sustainable for a limited period of time. Clearly I hit my limit Thursday.
This entire post feels ridiculously self-indulgent, but it is the truth. I feel small, vulnerable, raw, sore, and exhausted from the energy it has taken me to be, "Fine," for so long. I feel foolish for thinking I could outrun all of the feelings that accompany a positive cancer diagnosis and treatment plan. I feel unworthy of all of the negative feelings because my cancer wasn't "bad enough." So many others face far worse prognoses and battles that mine. Who am I to presume to talk? Who am I to feel sad, angry, tired, or overwhelmed?
This week, I feel crushed under the weight of all of the questions that I cannot answer. However, I know that this will pass. Everything passes eventually. Everything. For now I can only focus on my breathing and, as Glennon so eloquently puts it, "Just do the next right thing one thing at a time. That'll take you all the way home."
This evening the next right thing was to write this post. Once I hit Publish, I have no idea what the next right thing will be. I will be still and listen, though. I will be still and listen until I figure it out, and then I will do that thing.
Thank you for joining me on this journey. Thank you for supporting me through all of the days, even when I don't know how to support myself. Please be gentle and show yourselves, and each other, the kindness you have shown me.
#glovesup
Peace & love
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| Love Warrior by Glennon Doyle Melton inspired me to create this. |
Saturday, August 12, 2017
Brought Down By a Blank Page
Can you hear my inner critic, or is that voice just in my head? "You are pathetic! No one wants to hear what you have to say. What makes you think you have anything of value to contribute? Who do you think you are? Do something productive instead of hiding behind a computer. You never finish anything, so don't even start. Binge something on Netflix. Take a nap. Nothing you say will make any difference to anyone anyway." And so I listened. And I stopped trying to write. And I binged Netflix like a boss!
Here's the thing, though, I don't want that inner critic to be right. I want to use my words to heal my world. I want to help others who are fighting battles against illness, against themselves, against their circumstances. I can't do that under a blanket in my pj's with a remote control and a fizzy water. I can't do that if I never take a risk and put my words out there.
With The Breast Cancer Chronicles, I tried to keep things real, honest, and share what was going on as it was happening, but I also tried to focus on gratitude and positivity. That is how I try to do life in general. But some days are harder than others. Some days are hard. Period. It has been over a year since my double mastectomy, and ten months since my reconstruction. That seems like such a long time, and it seems like no time at all. I thought I would be slaying dragons and running marathons by now, but I'm not. (To be fair, dragons seem pretty cool, so slaying them is mean. And running unless someone scary is chasing me has never seemed like a good idea to me, so I avoid it at all costs.) I'm still exhausted most of the time. I still have pain from the surgeries. I still have to seriously psych myself up to do anything other than rest after work and on weekends. That is my reality right now. Will it always be my reality? Certainly not. But it is right now.
I went back to work full time in January. In February, I took up hard core mindfulness meditation. I gave myself a nine o'clock bedtime on school nights. I meditated every morning and every night. In March I went to Seattle with Mom to celebrate Baby Sis turning Forty. In April, I went on an amazing four day silent meditation retreat. In May, I got a roommate, school ended and I celebrated with some fabulous friends. In June, I took on some new responsibilities at work, and saw U2 live with the Betties. In July I went to the mountains with Mom & Dad then to Sedona with a lifelong friend. Now here we are at August, and school starts Monday.
Today is Saturday. It is pouring rain outside. I am under the covers with the computer in my lap, listening to the rain and trying to talk myself into getting out of bed. Is this my new normal? Is it yours? I don't know. What I do know is that I am still breathing, still fighting, and still grateful to be alive. I am grateful that you are, too.
#glovesup
Peace & love
Monday, February 6, 2017
On Aging and the Gifts of Cancer
I am grateful for all that the last year has taught me. They were lessons I never wanted to learn, but I am so glad I did. I learned that I can be by myself. I learned that I actually love being by myself. I had no idea. I don't need another person to make me feel whole, I am whole. I am enough, and I am happy.
I learned that cancer is scary, but it is full of incredible gifts. Without cancer I would never have met some of the people that I now consider family. They know who they are: Irma, Renee, Colbie, Kelly. You know. Without cancer, Baby Sis & Baby Monster wouldn't have come home to visit twice in four months! What a treat! Without cancer, I would have continued running as fast as I could on the hamster wheel that I had allowed my life to become, never taking time to slow down, be still, and appreciate the gifts that were right in front of me. Cancer gave me the gift of dinner with my parents every night for months. Cancer gave me the gift of binge-watching Netflix with my mom and streaming Phish concerts with my dad, as he danced around my recovery bed. Cancer gave me the gift of time on the phone with Mom every morning on my way to work. Cancer taught me that it was okay to go out to a concert with Dad on a school night because I might never have that chance again. Cancer taught me to slow down and realize that now is the only time I have.
Without cancer, I would never have embraced my #f@ckitcancer diet or shaved my head. I was too afraid to get fat or look silly. Why? Why was I starving myself and fighting with hair that got on my last nerve? I rocked bald and weigh less now than I did before cancer! I look pretty damn good for forty-seven! I look alive at forty-seven!
Cancer taught me gratitude for every moment, not just the "good" ones, is the key to happiness. I knew it before, but now I know it in my bones, my heart, my brain, and my soul. Cancer taught me that the things I spent most of my time worrying about don't really matter. Life is going to happen as it will, and the only thing I can control is the way I respond to it. That I can do. Cancer taught me that meditation will help me "respond instead of react" to the challenges life throws my way.
Cancer reminded me of the importance of kindness. It costs me nothing to hold a hand or give a hug, but the joy it can bring is priceless. Cancer taught me to do the things I had been putting off until there was more money or more time. I can take neither of those things with me when I die. Instead I will embrace the experiences that I want to have now, rather than spending on "stuff" that will only create clutter later. Cancer has taught me to let go. Let go of anger, let go of fear, and let go of the "stuff" that was weighing me down. Cancer has taught me how little stuff I actually need. I am still working on getting rid of it, working toward a more minimalist lifestyle, but every day I find at least one thing that would be better off with someone else and I let it go.
Cancer has taught me that we are stronger together than we are alone. Cancer has taught me that we are all afraid, but if we hold each other's hands and hearts, the fear is much easier to manage. Cancer has shown me that I have gifts to share with those who are facing the battle themselves, and I will.
Cancer has shown me that my life matters. Cancer has shown me that I didn't need to give birth to make a difference in the life of a child. Cancer has shown me that my kids (my students) remember the life lessons we learned together, no matter how long ago "together" was. Cancer has inspired me to give with my whole heart every, single day.
Cancer has helped show me how to live.
Thank you for taking this journey with me. I love and appreciate you all.
#glovesup
Peace.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
On Gratitude and the Gifts of This Cancer
Glennon Doyle Melton author of Love Warrior, founder of Momastery.com and TogetherRising.org
has become a hero to me of late. I have been binging her videos and stalking her website for several reasons. She is all about love. She speaks the language of loving each other. The language of love always winning. That is my language. That is the language which I aspire always to speak. She emphasizes the importance of facing our fears, showing up, being honest, and loving the awkward messiness of being human. She also happens to be the love of my beloved Abby Wambach, soccer's G.O.A.T., and author of her own amazing book, Forward: A Memoir.
I have been hiding behind my fear of saying the wrong thing. My fear of falling apart in front of you, when I have spent so much time focused on finding and showing the positive. I am Still and Always focused on finding the positive, but I need you to know that I feel tremendous fear, and I feel shame for feeling fear, weakness, and sometimes for being weak. I feel sadness for all of the time in my pre-cancer life that I took for granted, even though I told myself I was living every moment, and I feel fear that none of this will make a difference when I want so desperately to do something bigger than myself with this whole damned experience.
I am rewatching The Hunger Games series this weekend, and was particularly struck by one of the lines, "The only thing stronger than fear is hope." I have hope that by talking about my fears, and yours, together we can all overcome them.
To that end, I am coming out of my fear closet. I am afraid, on some level, every waking moment of my life. I am afraid that the cancer will come back to kill me. I am afraid that cancer, illness, accident, or violence will come to take someone that I love. I am afraid of all of the things I cannot control. I am afraid that I will go back to existing without really living. I am afraid that I will go back to work full time in January and suck at my job. I am afraid I will let down the people who believe in me. I am afraid for my students, afraid that I won't be there to help them through the pain and difficulty that they will inevitably face in their lives. I am afraid of heights. I am afraid of crowds. I am afraid of going to parties where I don't know everyone. I am afraid of speaking in front of people, but if given a script, I can do anything on stage. Isn't that funny? I am okay being anyone else on stage, but I am terrified to be just me. I have been afraid to show you all of my fear and vulnerability, but fear does not get to win. Fear Does Not Get To Win. Hope Wins. Love Wins.
This video is as real and raw as am today. I will use my words to overcome my fears, and if you let me, I'll try to help you overcome your fears, as well. Together we can raise each other up out of the darkness of fear and despair, and into the light of love and hope.
Gloves up, my loves.
Peace
Thursday, November 10, 2016
On Facing Fear With Our Children
But when I read this article, as a lifelong educator of young people, I realized that This is how we walk our students through any potentially scary experience. Similar articles appeared in the wake of 9/11, Columbine, and the endless list of violence in schools. Understand, please, I am not likening this election to 9/11. I promise.
What I am saying is that change is scary for most of us, but is Terrifying for children. The suggestions offered in the attached article by Ali Michael, PhD, can be tweaked and applied in a multitude of ways.
It is up to us to tell all of our children that they will be safe, loved, valued, respected, and defended always. That is our job as adults. We must demonstrate this ourselves as best we can so our kids see that kindness, compassion, dignity, respect, and cooperation are right, they are our rights, and they are essential for all of us.
I am not here to argue, debate, denigrate, or demean anyone. I am simply offering another look at a way for all of us, and our children to move forward today, and as we face challenges and change in the future.
Please be kind to each other, help each other, embrace each other, respect each other, and love each other.
I love, value, cherish and appreciate you all.
Peace
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/what-should-we-tell-the-children_us_5822aa90e4b0334571e0a30b
Sent from my iPad
What I am saying is that change is scary for most of us, but is Terrifying for children. The suggestions offered in the attached article by Ali Michael, PhD, can be tweaked and applied in a multitude of ways.
It is up to us to tell all of our children that they will be safe, loved, valued, respected, and defended always. That is our job as adults. We must demonstrate this ourselves as best we can so our kids see that kindness, compassion, dignity, respect, and cooperation are right, they are our rights, and they are essential for all of us.
I am not here to argue, debate, denigrate, or demean anyone. I am simply offering another look at a way for all of us, and our children to move forward today, and as we face challenges and change in the future.
Please be kind to each other, help each other, embrace each other, respect each other, and love each other.
I love, value, cherish and appreciate you all.
Peace
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/what-should-we-tell-the-children_us_5822aa90e4b0334571e0a30b
Sent from my iPad
Saturday, October 8, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles - Pink Hair Edition
It has been a wild couple of weeks! Hurricane Matthew gave us another school-free day. That is three hurricane days this year! I am challenged to remember a time when we had so many days away from school! Stars Hollow came to town, turning one of the fabulous coffee shops in Ybor City into Luke's Diner for the day, and giving away free coffee to swarms of Gilmore Girls fans. I have to say that meeting my dear friend there for coffee and pastries on Wednesday truly was the highlight of my week. I have wanted to live in Stars Hollow since I saw the first episode so many years ago. What fun to pretend for a little while!
My trip to Stars Hollow was followed a few hours later by a major meltdown over a medical scare. You can hear the story in the video below this. I am taking deep breaths and trying not to worry while I wait for tests and answers. After the doctor, I visited my pups. They are both doing incredibly well and are now helping to train other dog parents.
I am trying to get out of the house more, as I have learned that curling up into a little ball, hiding at home in my pajamas isn't the best way for me to heal. Some days it is okay to stay in pj's, but getting out has to happen, too. Reverting to the 9:00 PM bedtime that my parents strictly enforced throughout my childhood has made a huge difference this week, and so has yoga. I am getting back to the mat, slowly but surely. This is definitely a good thing. Made it to a movie yesterday in the theatre for the first time in years. Then this morning, I headed over to St. Petersburg for the Hooked on Hope pamper party that took place during their annual fishing tournament. It was a blast! Check out the results of that in the video, too!
Thanks for all of your support and encouragement! I really do have the strongest army on the planet! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! My trees are calling, so I have work to do.
Until next time.
#glovesup
Peace
Sunday, September 18, 2016
One of those weeks
The port has been out for ten days now, and for that I am so very grateful! The removal went very well. Dr. Rock Star and his fabulous team were amazing, as always. I think my body had been fighting so hard against it that when it was finally out, all I could do was sleep. I haven't slept that long since just after the surgery!
This was my first complete week back at work, and it kicked my behind! Some days just trying to put one foot in front of the other takes all of my energy. I'll keep doing it, though, and doing whatever it takes to get stronger every day.
Oy! Such a face!
Thank you to everyone who purchased one of my metallic trees in support of our team. They all will go out in the mail this week, and it is entirely possible that there will be more trees for the cause to come. Perhaps an auction next time...we'll see.
If you want to order a Gloves Up t-shirt, this is your last chance. Follow this link to the Gloves Up With Amy page on Facebook. The order will be placed with the printer tomorrow, so reach out now if you'd like one. Unisex tank tops are also available.
Have a wonderful week! Take care of yourselves and be kind to each other.
#GlovesUp
Peace
Wednesday, September 7, 2016
The Port Comes Out In The Morning!!!
I pray, this port, my doc to keep.
That's all I've got for tonight. I should be asleep already. More post-port removal.
Gloves up!
Peace
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles : The Poking Edition
My final expansion was last Tuesday. Woo hoo! I am stretched enough now. That meant that we could set a date for the second surgery. Unfortunately, it also meant that a rash of hives broke out on my left breast. It was weird. It would get bad, come back, then get worse, and start all over again. I could live with in the beginning because it was in the part of the breast that I can't feel, but Monday it got much worse and sent me to the doctor early. I took pictures if it over several days, and I am so glad I did! The doctors were able to see the changes and pinpoint what the cause might be.
I will tell you that after two days of urgent doctor's appointments, hospitals, and tests I have been drained, incised, excised, and pierced. I have five holes in my upper torso in such a configuration that regardless of in what position I sleep, there is a spot that hurts like Hell! More meds, here I come.
The second surgery will be the morning of October 27th!!!
Hopefully it will be the last. And guess what! We scheduled the surgery for after the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk on Saturday, the 22nd of October. That means I will be walking with Amy's Army! If you have yet to sign up to join us or to donate to our team's goal, here is the link to make it happen right now. Amy's Army is Making Strides Against Breast Cancer. We'd love it if you would wear one of the Gloves Up t-shirts on October 22nd. If you have yet to order one, this is the place. Gloves Up t-shirt orders. We will walk #glovesup together to end breast cancer.
Thank you for taking this journey with me. You all mean more than you know.
#glovesup
Peace
Monday, August 8, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles : The Stop Overthinking It Edition
I should have known better. I did know better, but it was still scary until I stepped onto campus. Immediately I knew I was home again. I was surrounded by love, and hugs, and smiles, and offers to help me carry things. I was with family, and I was happy to be there. I only stayed a couple of hours, but at least I made it. And I will go again tomorrow and stay a little longer. I can do this. I am stronger every day, and I am surrounded by people who are willing and eager to help. I am so very, very lucky and so very, VERY grateful.
It bothers me that I still let overthinking take control. I know that I should be better about it by now, and sometimes I am, but not always. Nothing is ever as bad as I am afraid it will be. Imagine all of the stuff I could accomplish if I could get out of my own way! In the immortal words of Cosmo Kramer,"Serenity now!" is what I seek. More mindful meditation, yoga, and Buddhify is clearly what I need.
Is it just me, or do you build things up in your head until they are far bigger than they need to be?
#glovesup
Peace
Thursday, August 4, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles: Sometimes You Just Have to Sleep (Five Weeks Post-Op)
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| Welcome @blick_tampa |
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New pens = new trees!
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After waking up way too early yesterday morning, and running around more than I had in weeks, I knew sleep was imperative. To help, I decided to search some post-mastectomy yoga videos on YouTube last night. I tried a couple of very slow and gentle practices, and they helped me relax enough to sleep. I guess I needed it more than I realized.
Thank you for all of the input on the videos. I hope they are getting a little better. Today's was a struggle for a multitude of reasons, all of which can be summed up by the words Operator Error. Learning new things is so much fun, isn't it? Welcome, once again, to my world. It may not be pretty, but this is the way it is today.
I misspoke on the video about how long I have been off the estrogen. It has been about eight weeks now. Still flashing, and not fun! Sorry for the mistake, but I simply could not record this AGAIN! LOL.
Oh, big news! The wristbands are in again! Thank you to everyone who took one the first go-round. If you would like an Amy's Army #glovesup wristband, please send us a message and we'll make it happen. If you would like a bunch, let us know. The new Gloves Up t-shirt order is up on the Gloves Up With Amy FB page, so check that out and we'll put in an order with the printer asasp.
Thank you for all of your love, support, encouragement, time, energy, and thoughtfulness. I am still the luckiest girl I know, and I am thankful to all of you every minute of every day.
As always, like, share, comment, tweet, message, whatever works for you as I learn this blogging and video blogging process.
Be well. Be happy. Be kind.
#glovesup
Peace.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles: The wanted to stay in bed edition
Inghram's Sit & Stay
I forgot to take pictures while I visited puppy camp, I was too busy loving on my babies. Got caught in the storm on my way to the car, and came home to a very unhappy completely soaked kitty on the back porch. Cat trapped now, as I type. The rain didn't ruin my hair, so that was cool!
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| Cat Trapped under a sodden Bitty Kitty |
Thank you for all of the love, support, and encouragement.
Peace, love, and #glovesup
Sunday, July 31, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles: The Best News!
Check out the video below for the details. Like, share, comment, subscribe, celebrate, whatever you wish.
Know that I am thankful to and for every, single one of you whether we have met IRL or only through this blog. Your support, kindness, and love have kept my #glovesup and those of my family, too.
I'm still getting the hang of this video thing, so please be kind.
A new post may even happen later tonight. We'll see. I am still really tired and relatively weak, but I am getting better every day.
Peace, love, and thanks!
#glovesup
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles ~ The Video Edition: Day One
I was holding the camera while I shot it because I am computer-challenged and too tired to figure it out tonight. This is raw video. I feel silly talking to a camera, I apparently look up A LOT when I'm trying to think. Maybe I need a script next time. We'll see. I just wanted to give it a shot and see how it worked.
Watch with those warnings in mind. Then please be kind if you choose to comment. If you have a suggestion for a phone stand to use during video, I'd seriously appreciate it. I mentioned this is new to me.
Enough stalling. I need sleep. Laugh. Smile. Giggle. Enjoy. Be kind.
And since I forgot to say it at the end of the post, #GlovesUp
Peace.
Saturday, July 23, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles: It's Me Again!
First, thank you to everyone who has been supportive of me and my family through this first round of the battle with breast cancer. Your love, time, thoughts, prayers, energy, calls, texts, messages, tweets, cards, gifts, meals, and shoulders keep us going whenever things become too challenging or scary. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU. I will say it again later because there will never be thanks enough.
One of my goals in dealing with this damn disease is to use my experience to take some of the fear out of cancer for the next person, or loved one of a person, who faces it. When we talk openly and honestly about things that scare us, the power that those things have begins to dissipate. If it were up to me, and frankly it should be, cancer wouldn't be able to scare or hurt any of us ever again.
As I have said before, I am lucky to have had the amazing doctors who have helped me through the first surgical part of this journey. Dr. Rock Star and his staff have been lovely, kind, gentle, and even entertaining throughout the "taking them off" part. Dr. Superwoman took the second half of the surgery, "putting them on" in the form of expanders to help my chest muscles learn how to work in their new place. The expanders kind of remind me of whoopee cushions, or empty beach balls. They go in flat and get filled every week with sterile saline until they are the size and shape that the actual implants will be. Pretty cool, right? But I am jumping way ahead. We'll come back to Dr. Superwoman and her terrific team in a little while. In the interest of full disclosure, I must say that I am still on meds, so I talk in circles sometimes. (Like that is anything new! I just have something on which to blame it now!)
The surgery was three weeks ago yesterday. and I may have to tell this in installments because so much has happened in the last twenty-two days.
Day One: Surgery
I knew that the scan they needed to do of my lymph nodes before the mastectomy involved an injection, what I didn't know until the day before my surgery was that the injectionS were to go in just below my nipples without anesthesia! I had never been in so much pain in my entire life. Until after the surgery. There was no way to prepare for that! If any part of it could be funny, it had to be the fact that the doctor who came in to give me the shots was the parent of a former student! I knew as soon as he introduced himself, and I told him how much I enjoyed teaching her. Then, midway through the injection, I remember wailing, "I was nice to W...! Why would you hurt me?" He apologized and just kept on sticking. Then I was left alone for twenty or thirty minutes so the stuff he injected could get where it needed to go to be detected.
Next was Pre-Op for loads of questions, weight, BP, and an IV. The nurse or tech trying to put in my IV was midway through her second try when a lovely doctor walked in and asked, "Amy?" Instantly I recognized her as the mother of yet another former student! She said, "K... told me you would be here today! I'm not your anesthesiologist, but I wanted to make sure you were okay." I was thrilled! Then she looked at the IV debacle happening in my right arm and said, "I got this. Thanks." Not only did she numb the area -What a concept!- but she put in a painless IV on the first try into an even tougher spot! Thanks, Dr. B! I still have a bruise from the one that was happening when she arrived. After huge thanks, an update on her kids, and a couple of hugs, she was on her way. Just a few minutes later, a former student popped in to check on me. Come to find out she is a tech at the hospital and wanted to give me a pre-op hug! Love you, KH! Again I was overwhelmed with thanks for this amazing life I live.
And then it was time.
Surgery started later than scheduled. My Dream Team of perfectionist surgeons had another case before mine, and they wanted to make sure everything was right. We were happy to know how much it mattered to them to get the little things right. The complete operation lasted between four and five hours. Through the post-op haze I remember being almost unable to breathe from the pain I felt coming back into consciousness. Baby Sis tells me that all I got out was a barely audible, "Hurts...so...much," that made them all want to cry. I'm pretty sure I was crying. Loads, and loads, and loads of Dilaudid later, it still hurt like Hell, but I was able to rest a little. E stayed the night with me in the hospital so Mom could go home to get some sleep. He made sure I rested as comfortably as I could with with four drains sticking out of me, not an easy task. That night when I first tried to get out of bed to use the restroom, I remember being so thankful that my office is on the second floor, and that I have taken the stairs up and down several times each day for the last year. That made getting into and out of bed without using my hands or arms a possibility. I'm not sure I could have done that eighteen months ago. #glasshalffull
Who would have believed that a complete double mastectomy with reconstruction only merited a single night in the hospital? Not this Betty! But that is, in fact, the case. One night only. Getting out of the hospital should have been the easy part right? Not if you know my family! Mom, Dad, and Baby Sis were all there to help. Truth be told, I wasn't feeling particularly well as I made the switch from IV pain meds to pills. I thought I was just a little light-headed and figured it would pass, but probably should have said something. The wheelchair came, everyone took a bag and we were out the door. Suddenly we entered what I was sure was the Walking Dead hospital crossway, remember? You know, the one that was so bright, where they were going to get Beth back from the woman who held the hospital. Yes! That one! The image popped into my head and as it did I heard a crash behind me, followed by an expletive or two. I twisted around in my chair (bad plan after double mastectomy) to see Dad on the floor! The man has a pair of bright, shiny, new hips, so his fall was more than a little scary for all of us! He was fine, but mortified. I remember trying to ask if he was okay, as the nurse was explaining that she needed him to go to the ER to get checked out, and then everything went black. Yep! I passed right out in my chair! I had already been released from the hospital! This had to be a joke. Right? Next thing I knew they were wheeling me back into a room, Dad and Baby Sis had gone downstairs to fill out a report and agree not to sue, since he refused to go to the ER, while I lay in a freshly made hospital bed sobbing. It was, at the time, awful. The next day, it was hilarious! And it gets funnier by the day. I'm pretty sure we have more fun laughing at ourselves than just about anything else. We crack ourselves right up almost all of the time.
I'll end this post here, but stay tuned for new ones, shorter, and funnier, and filled with hope.
Thank you for taking this journey with me. Take care of each other and be kind.
#glovesup
peace
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| Peace from Post Op |
Thursday, July 21, 2016
GUEST POST: Three weeks post-op
-Miss Truvy, Steel Magnolias
These past three weeks have been most stressful we can remember, and we are in for several more before it is all over and done...
This is Mom, SandiPaints, guest posting now.
Amy is and always will be the most positive person I have known, and with this attitude we have all laughed more then we have cried around this cancer bullsh!t, that is for sure. I love her so much for helping us to help her get on the other side of this and on to the next step.
Next up we are on to chemo, which none of us likes the idea of, but it is the lesser of two evils so... Bring it on, Chemo! Our gloves are all up!
We, in this family, have been so blessed and we are Thankful to everyone who has shown us so much love. The doctors, the nurses, the techs, the support staff everywhere we go who have been so wonderful, done so much, and just keep doing more...
The cards, letters, shirts, bracelets, foods, gifts, prayers, shoulders, and good thoughts have been more than we could have asked for, and we are so appreciative...Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!
Please keep the good thoughts coming as we head into the next phase of crushing this cancer. Chemo starts next Thursday. Amy (Betty) will post her own update soon.
Thank you all so much. Take care of each other.
Gloves Up, y'all!
~ sandipaints
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| "Working hard" a while ago at Painting With a Twist. |
Friday, July 15, 2016
Guest Post: Two Weeks Post Op
So Amy has been home for 2 weeks today. 2 weeks. And she continues to amaze. She is doing so well. Her last drain (of 4) "fell out" Sunday night. No more drains. She did a little Yoga last evening.
She must get her positive attitude from her Mother. It is serving her so well and we are so happy about it.
Going to have to have Chemo. Preventative. We'll know more later this week. Surgery seems to have "got it all." All of us feeling so blessed.
Since Jenn left, Sandi has stayed the night mostly to supervise pain meds, drains, etc. and has taken great care of our girl. I've taken a few shifts as Night Nurse and Amy says I am progressing nicely.
So much thanks to so many people for all the food, gifts, positive thoughts, and prayers. You have been such a help to our bodies and our spirits. This is going much better than we ever thought. Thank you. Thank you.
Amy will write her own update soon.
Thank you for all of your love and support.
#glovesup
~Wy
Sunday, July 3, 2016
GUEST POST: The Post-Op Update You've All Been Waiting For
She will be meeting with a medical Oncologist on the 21st to discuss chemotherapy. Meanwhile, she is home and resting (un)comfortably. She is feeling all of the love and support from "Amy's Army" and she feels, in her exact words, Incredibly Grateful. The calls, texts, cards, deliveries, etc have been wonderful and we are all so, so thankful to have all of you out there pulling for her. It really does make hard times easier when we know that so much love and positive energy surrounds us.Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. You all know My Betty, she can't stay down long, so she will be back to share her words of wisdom soon. Until then, she will be resting, medicating, and building her strength back up so that she can return to being the Rock that you are used to seeing.
Keep those positive thoughts and prayers coming! Gloves up!!
~Jenn
#glovesup #breastcancer #gratitude #surviving #luckygirl
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles Volume Eight or Nine, I've lost count: Tomorrow's the Day!
Tomorrow is the big day. Two boobs are coming off and the beginnings of two fabulous new ones (extenders) are going in to get the next phase started.
This will be quick. I am exhausted, as I have crammed as much fun, friends, and family into the last few weeks as humanly possible. Today was sincerely one of the most wonderful, memorable, restorative, soul feeding days of my life. Thank you to everyone who had any part in it.
Hair chopped off: check
"Before" picture taken: check
First boat trip with Monster: check
Dinners with the family: check
Fun times with friends: check
Laughter until tears flowed and I was in pain every day: check
Smile from ear to ear: check
Gloves up playlist(s): check
Deep breaths in and out: check
Thank you to all of you who have called, texted, emailed, FB or Twitter messages, and snail mailed cards, gifts, and care packages. I have smiled and sometimes cried, too, as I opened it. The thank you notes are going to take me ages, but I am already thanking you in my heart every minute of every day.
All will be well. Updates will follow as soon as I can get them posted, or have someone post for me. All will be well. I am surrounded by love on every front. I have the best doctors and hospitals I could ever have chosen. All will be well.
Please be kind to each other the way you have all been so kind to me. Please be even kinder to yourself. You are important. You are special. You are needed. You matter. You are valued. You have gifts to share with our world. Please know that you make my life better each and every day. Our job is to leave our world a better place than we found it. We must each work to do that every day with every breath. Hug someone you love today. Forgive someone today, whether they have apologized or not, for yourself. Forgive. Wrap each other in love. I will be drugged up and sending only positive energy and love into the world for each of you, and those I have yet to know.
Can you tell I am getting tired? Will likely not even proof this, if you don't tell my students.
See you on the flat side. Hehe!
Peace and love to you all.
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