Showing posts with label Breast cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breast cancer. Show all posts
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. |
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
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. |
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.
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles: Volume Seven
I digress before I have even begun. Shocker! Welcome to the cacophonous maelstrom of voices jockeying for position in my head.
In all seriousness, the struggle this week has been to find a way to manage all of the appointments, insurance calls, paperwork, pre-op, pharmacy, sleep, food, meditation, yoga, work, planning, and preparation for all possibilities while still maintaining the "stress-free environment" insisted upon by Dr. Rock Star. I laughed out loud when he said, "No stress," to me with a straight face. I thought he was kidding. I have since learned that he was not kidding...at all. Who knew? So, once again, I have come face to face with my own limitations. And, to be clear, I am not a fan. Today I had to retreat, give up the idea of working normally until the day of the surgery, and go home. I know talked a great game last week about being set up to work from home, but I didn't want to actually need to work from home. I wanted to, once again, be able to do it all. I learned, once again, that I cannot. Excellent, eager, exceptionally capable people are in place to do the parts of my job that need to be managed in my absence. I need to let them. I will let them. I will do what I can do, but know that all will be well. I am so very grateful and so very lucky.
I am told that I have one job right now: to fight. I am told that by others. I am learning to tell myself. I know, and am constantly reminded, that I am a fighter. Unfortunately it appears that I have been fighting against only myself. This is never a good idea. No matter how I win that fight, I lose.
Tonight, after I hit Publish, I will hit the yoga mat, like I do every night. But tonight, rather than fighting to find the Yin Yoga poses of release, I will exhale deeply and surrender. Within the surrender the chaos will quiet. Within the surrender the stillness will be found. Within the surrender, the kind, gentle, loving voice of my soul will be heard. Within the surrender the strength that I need for this battle will be found. Within the surrender the victory will be realized.
Rest well, my friends. Find your surrender. Find your stillness. Find your light. The light in me honours the light in you.
#glovesup
Peace
Thursday, June 16, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles : Volume Five, The Roller Coaster Continues
I love that I have friends and family who want to help. I appreciate that more than I have words to express. I know that I Need that help, but I don't Like that I need that help. I don't like putting an extra burden on other people. I like taking care of other people. I am so uncomfortable with the shoe on the other foot. But I know that learning to walk in these uncomfortable shoes is part of my lesson in this journey. (If those shoes could have red soles toward the end of the journey, that would make it easier to handle.)
I read somewhere that the greatest way we can show our love for others is by allowing them to help us. Well, if this is true, I must seriously suck at showing love for others! OR maybe this is the first time that I really have the chance to show all of those who have asked to help just how much I do love them. That must be it! This is my chance to show that I love everyone enough to Ask for help. Now if I can figure out what shape that help should take, I'll be one step closer to making it happen.
Thank you to everyone who has asked how to help. I am working on figuring that out, but will put it into words as soon as I do.
At work, my colleagues have gone out of their way to take things off my plate, and for this I am grateful beyond words. Working from home for some of my more challenging times has also become an option. For this I am grateful. Hugs, tissues, pep talks, ears, and shoulders appeared today just when I needed them. For this I am grateful.
Tonight we honored the birth of Middle Sister. For this, I am grateful. To have her home, even for a little while, is a tonic to my soul. For this I am grateful. Tonight I learned that Baby Sis and Monster will be home to help me through the surgery and recovery. For this I am grateful. Tonight I am warm, safe, and surrounded by healing energy. For this, I am grateful.
Be well, my friends and know that, for each of you, I am grateful.
#glovesup
Peace.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles: Volume Four
And then the cat woke me at 3:00 AM and peed on the floor. Immediately I decided he was in full-on kidney failure. I was a wreck again. And then I bleached the floor.
I tried to go back to sleep. #fail
I tried journaling. #fail
I tried mindful meditation. #fail
I tried stretching. #fail
It was shaping up to be a great morning to go back to work!
But go back to work I did. Not as early as I had hoped, but I got there safely. Many other people around the world never made it to work today.
And then my day became about gratitude.
I am grateful that I made it safely to and from work today.
I am grateful that I was greeted with smiles, hugs, love, and support at work when so many others are miserable in their jobs.
I am grateful that the first thing the vet did was give me a hug when he came into the room because he knew I was scared.
I am grateful that I spent a surprise evening with Mom and Dad, floating in the pool, eating, laughing, and listening to amazing music when so many others are away from those they love in one way or another.
I am so grateful to realize how incredible my life is. I am surrounded by everything I need to get through each day. I have been taught to find the strength I need to get through anything. I have been taught to ask for help. I have been taught to look for the good in people, even when they try to show me something else. I don't always see it, but I always know it exists.
Thank you to everyone who called, texted, messaged, emailed, hugged, gifted, laughed, sent prayers, sent positive energy, thoughts, strength, and healing my way today. You each reinforced for me how much we have to take care of each other. We all need love. We all need to belong. We all need to heal.
Tonight I go to bed chlorine-soaked, skin shriveled, belly full, heart warm, and soul at peace.
Love and celebrate each other with every breath.
Gloves up!
Peace
Monday, June 13, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles: Volume Three
Nothing has changed, except that I learned today how much harder this was going to be than I wanted to believe. Notice the word "wanted" in there. I knew it was going to be awful. I knew it was going to hurt like Hell and have a long recovery process, but I didn't realize just how long and how involved a double mastectomy with reconstruction really is.
In my perfect dream world, I wake up from the surgery, cancer and pain free, with a perfect new set of breasts that are complete and need nothing else. I've also lost fifty pounds, my hair and make-up are so perfect that I could be on a movie set. I LOVE that world... In the real world, I wake up with expanders in my chest, that will be injected with saline every week until they reach the right size and shape. Meanwhile I am taking chemo regularly and going bald. THEN, well after any chemo has ended, there is another surgery to put the actual implants in place.
In my head it went: surgery - back to work the next week - chemo - shave head - life and work as usual - cured forever! Celebrate! In the real world it goes more like: surgery - recover from surgery - chemo - next surgery - recover from next surgery - cured - back to life as usual. I am sure that work and home life are in there at regular internvals, but I don't know when, where, or how.
I am scared, really scared, of how long the recovery part of this usually takes. I wanted to be Superwoman. I wanted to be the one who could take all of this while still managing work, taking care of two big, energetic dogs and a cat, doing yoga every day and setting the world on fire. Instead, I found out I am just a regular person. But a very lucky one who has a fierce army surrounding her on all sides.
I had mountains of insurance paperwork and planning to do today, but instead I collapsed into bed and slept there for four hours. I bet even Superwoman has to nap too sometimes. I bet every woman and man who has fought this fight has been exhausted sometimes. But after we rest, we get back up, put our gloves up, and fight on until we win.
One of my amazing survivor friends was with me and Mom at the plastic surgeon's today. She said something that I have heard in different ways several time of late. This time, it really seemed to get in my head. "You are going to feel everything on this journey, scared, angry, sad, hopeful, hopeless, happy, and even like giving up sometimes. Allow yourself to feel all of those things without judging them. Feel them and let them go." I may be paraphrasing a bit, but I heard it, and I listened this time.
Today was one of those terrified, yet hopeful days. I was discouraged, but I knew it wouldn't last. Sleep helped. Writing this blog helped. An anonymous gift of a mantraband that said, "Never Give Up' arrived, and that helped. If you are the one who sent it to me, thank you. I will never give up. I will fight every minute of every day I have, even in the minutes when I am sleeping, I am preparing for the fight.
I can do this. I will do this. I appreciate all of you for your support and encouragement. Together we are strong.
Peace and love.
Thursday, June 9, 2016
The Breast Cancer Chronicles: Volume One
Well, my friends, a new challenge lies ahead, and I hope you'll indulge me as I work through this one with my rantings and my art.
On Monday, I was officially diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Grade Three. This is the most common form of breast cancer diagnosed today. Unfortunately that doesn't make it any less serious.
I was lucky enough to be sitting in my counselor's office, concluding a session where we talked about how I likely had breast cancer. We talked about all of the love and support that I have, and that I had a really great attitude about it, looking to find the positive in everything. I was picking up my bag to leave when my phone rang. I took the call and heard it in the doctor's voice before I ever heard the words, "You have breast cancer." I listened. I took notes. I asked questions for clarification. I thanked the doctor and told him that I knew he had saved the lives of many of my friends and would save mine, too. No pressure. I laughed. I hung up. I said the words out loud for the first time, there with my counselor, "I have breast cancer." I said it again. And then I dissolved into a puddle of tears. I was so hoping to be wrong. I was not wrong. I knew when I first felt the lump a week and a half ago. I knew.
Four of the words that every woman most dreads hearing are, "You have breast cancer." "We have to talk," is a close second, and "It's not you...Really," are in close contention, but, "You have breast cancer," pretty much takes the cake. Like so many other strong, brave women (and men) now I have heard them. I have also said, "I have breast cancer," out loud, over and over, so I can almost always do it without crying. Almost. Yes, this is serious. Yes, I am scared. Yes, I am prepared to fight like hell and beat this effing disease.
And so, gloves laced on, the fight begins...
I have amazing friends and family who did all they could to keep me entertained, distracted, and fed through the weekend. I have a job and work family that are allowing me to take the time I need to do whatever is needed to defeat this beast. I have laughed and cried more in the last week than I have in a long time. That is good medicine.
YesterdayI had an MRI in which I was placed face-down, arms outstretched for flying into what can best be described asa milking machine position. Having had MRI's of several other parts through the years, all done lying on my back, imagine my surprise when told that those holes were for my "girls"! A regular MRI is loud and cramped, but not particularly uncomfortable. A post-breast-biopsy MRI is far less pleasant for sure. That said, the staff and the facility were amazing. They did everything possible to keep me calm and comfortable. No small feat, I promise you.
Tomorrow we meet with the surgeon to find out how far the disease has progressed and make plans for surgery and treatment.
I have breast cancer. It will not have me.
I am strong. I am determined. I am surrounded by warriors. My mother battled an "incurable" autoimmune disease and today is, in fact, cured. My father and grandfather kicked kidney cancer in the soft parts. The daughter I never had beat the pants off leukemia. The list goes on and on, so how could I do anything but fight like hell? My young friend, Lindsey Rose, coined the phrase, "Do whatcha gotta do," when she faced her battle. It worked for her, and it will certainly work for me.
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| I gave Mom this boxing glove necklace when she was diagnosed with Systemic Schleroderma to remind her to fight that "incurable" disease. Today she is cured, and yesterday she gave it to me to remind me to fight my battle now. Gloves up! I'm coming out swinging! Love you, Mom! |
I am still the luckiest woman I know. The outpouring of love and support that I have already received is humbling, overwhelming, and appreciated more than I will ever find the words to express. It is amazing how kind people can be. Thank you all. My team is strong and mighty. We are tireless and relentless in our pursuit of healing. I have been well prepared to stay strong, to stay focused, to stay positive, and to get back up every time I fall.
Thank you for being my people. Thank you for helping me to stay strong, to fight, and to win. Thank you.
Peace.
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