Day 219 - Fat Lady

"I bet you are glad it is all over" - a woman I don't know said to me today.

I thought to myself, "this really isn't over" but spared her the details.  I just smiled and said, "it has been a long road".

Monday night I barely slept thanks to my latest expansion.  You do not realize how much you use your pectoral muscles until you have had the balloons that are placed underneath them filled with water. 

In the middle of the night I popped a few pain pills and lay in bed until morning.

On Tuesday I could barely keep my eyes open on the way to work.  Somehow I made it through a 4 hour meeting without revealing my mental state (which was zonkered).

By 1pm I realized the world would be a better place if I just drove my car home, put on some pj's and crawled into bed.  At 1:30 I was in bed and did not get out until this morning.

So much for being over.

Day 217 - plastic

My plastic surgeon irritated me to no end today. 

I have been going to him weekly for the last month.  Today was to be my last fill.  My surgery is scheduled for December 22nd.  Radiation begins in January.

And he looked at me like this was all news to him.

Which I guess it was since my last appointment was with his nurse, and apparently she did not really update my chart very well.

At one point he asked me how many cc's I had in my expanders.  I looked at him and answered, "I hope you know, because I do not have the foggiest idea."

I think I may have gotten my nurse into trouble.  Bossman was not pleased.

Needless to say I received another "fill", my sternum feels like it is being cracked in half and I get the pleasure of doing it all over again next week. 

We are still on track for surgery on the 22nd.  I am counting the minutes.

I am also contemplating posting a photo of my bubbies in transition. 

My worries are as follows:

1.  It will freak some of you out.
2.  It will not freak some of you out.
3.  It will freak me out.

Day 216 - My December

I have been remiss in telling you all about my appointment with the radiologist. 

For starters, while under the influence of radiation you get your own parking spot.  Before my appointment I was sent a parking pass that allows me front row (mayors spot!) parking every day. 

Membership has its privileges.

Doug and I were happy that our Dr. seems to poses the top three things I desire in a medical professional.

1.  A positive attitude.
When I made some reference to being, "sick" he looked me dead in the eye and said, "your not sick". 

2.  A family.
He asked if we had kids, when I said yes, and told him the ages, he said, "me too, except I am about 10 years further down the line than you".

3.  Credentials
Did his residency at the Mayo Clinic.  Been in the radiation business for over two decades. 

Radiation starts with an appointment at the end of December to get my position right and set up the machines that will beam their poisonous light at me.  Once the position is found (this can apparently take an hour or two) the nurse will actually tattoo the beam targets on my skin.

Once we get this whole thing started I have to go everyday, Monday - Friday for 6 weeks.  I will have a great alibi for any crimes committed outside of the state of Oregon I suppose.

Until then, I will stretch one more time, receive another dose of herceptin, have an echo cardio gram, have surgery to do the expander/implant exchange, take my vitamins and tamoxifen everyday, and celebrate Christmas.

d

Day 215 - togetherness

My little family of five spent every waking hour together from Wednesday afternoon to now. We slept in the same room, we ate every meal, swam for hours, and played a lot of UNO.

It has been fantastic.

I told a friend last night that it was really important for the kids to see me as a full, physical participant in our lives. When you go through a medical crisis, and your tribe encircles you, it is also important for each tribe member to step back and enjoy a little normalcy.

For us it was a short trip to a great place in wine country called the Allison Inn. This is where Doug and I retreated to just before my surgery, and it was the perfect place for all of us to do some healing together.

You should be proud of the Eikenkids. They sat through the 5 course Thanksgiving feast with little complaint. No spilled drinks, tears, or kids menus. They told us what they were thankful for (daddy and mama were on the top of the lists, followed by each other), and they ate most of their food.

Harper and Harris deemed their first Shirley Temples the best part of the meal. Graham and I thought the brussel sprouts were dreamy, and Doug loved it all.

Our Thanksgiving night ended in the best way possible. All 5 of us, laying in a big bed, fire going, and The Charlie Brown Thanksgiving on TV for a night cap.

We are home now, back in Portland.  Woken from our dream state with the following piece of mail.

A summons for Jury Duty.

Addressed to me.

H+D

Thanksgiving - thanks for giving

Cancer survivors have a lot to be thankful for. Each day tastes a little better the further away we get from that initial diagnosis.

For me it always comes back to family. And mine is pretty big.

My family. The one I was born into. I would choose each and every one of them if given the chance. My mom, my sisters, my aunts, my uncles, and cousins.

My family. The one I married into. I would do it all over again just to have you in my life. My in laws, my brother and sisters in law, and a great bunch of nephews and nieces. The east coast Eikenberry's.

My family. The one I collected. Friends that I have had since I was my children's age, friends I made on the softball field, the basketball court, the volleyball court. Friends that were Doug's first, then became mine forever.

My family. My brothers and sisters of the same or another cancer. You are welded into my heart. I carry you, and your stories with me everywhere I go.

My family. Graham. The boy who made me a mother. Who came into this world so easily that I thought it would be a good idea to just keep adding to the klan. The boy who everyday reminds us of both his grandfathers.

My family. Harper. The little girl who reminds me so much of myself. The little girl who is a gamer, ready for anything. The little girl that takes me to places I have never been before with her imagination.

My family. Harris. The little boy who I knew was missing from our family the day Harper was born. The free spirit of the family. The little boy who makes us laugh and shake our heads simultaneously.

My family. Doug. I had no idea. His lifeline tugs me back up whenever the tide tries to pull me away. He is my best friend. A better friend to me than I am to him. He is patient when my bossiness gets out of control. When we promised in sickness and in health I don't think either of us thought we would be here today.

We don't break promises.

My promise, to all of you, is to continue to love an appreciate all of it. The highs and the lows. For this is life. And I am thankful for every moment of it

211- In Treatment

Doug accompanied me to my treatment appointment yesterday.  It is strange to be going to the oncologist office only once every 3 weeks, but it is nice to receive treatment and have zero side effects.

We had a sit down with Dr. Rasch to go over what my next steps are, as far as treatment goes.  He felt it was a good time to begin my Tamoxifen regimen.  Doug was shocked to learn that I would be on it for 5 years.  But considering the amazing results it produces in people like me, I am thankful it is available.

When it comes to Breast Cancer I have the good and bad kind all mixed together.  Mine is invasive - which means it spreads quickly, but it is also estrogen and HER2 positive, which means there are treatments other than Chemo that help keep it at bay. 

On another note, we have serious hair growth going on right now.

Not sure if it is curly or straight, but it is safe to say that it is grey.  

If you had the pleasure of knowing my father, you will notice that I not only inherited his crazy cowlicks, but that sweet grey patch he had up front.  When my older sister Andrea saw it she said,"your hair looks just like dads!"  Which kind of makes me want to keep it this way...

Have you thought of what you are Thankful for this year?  My list is long, and growing each day.  Can't wait to share it with you on Thursday.

Day - 209 - Uncle

In order to get from a zero cup to any noticeable breast size one must go through expansion. 

Expansion, in my career, is a great thing.  It means we are growing our business, adding new stores.  When expansion stops my blood runs cold, and I start looking around for another place to work.

I am counting the minutes for my personal expansion to come to an end.  Since we are trying to get my reconstruction completed before radiation begins we are in express expansion mode.

We are trying to get to my desired cup size in half the amount of time. 

And I have never experienced so much pain in my entire life. 

Never.

I would give birth to my 3 children all over again and it would not even come close to the pain after each "fill".

Only one more to go, and then we are all going to have to hold hands and agree that my bubbies look just fine.

Surgery for my soft, fluffy implants is scheduled for December 22nd. 

Best Christmas gift ever.

(oh and hopefully a trip to the Rose Bowl)

Day - 206 a low point

Last night, about 2 hours into our flight from New York to Portland I was witness to what I can only assume was a low point of a perfect stranger.

Seated three rows in front of me, a woman in the last row of first class decided it was time for her to get off the plane.  She calmly picked up her bag, walked to the front, and proceeded to try and open the emergency exit door.

The flight crew was on her within seconds.  And then she began to shriek.  Like a wounded animal.  And scream, and fight.

Eventually the crew was able to get her back in her seat, the, "is there a Dr. on board" announcement was made, and the plane grew silent. 

It took the Dr. over an hour to calm her down enough in order to administer a sedative.  (from out of nowhere an IV bag, full of who knows what, appeared.  The woman seated next to me, who's husband is a pilot, said that planes are fully prepared for a multitude of medical incidents).

And we all watched, this most real reality.  I wondered who was waiting for her in Portland.  I wondered what had happened to cause such duress in what appeared to be a perfectly mentally healthy woman.

When we landed the police and paramedics were there to take her off the plane.  I was shocked by her appearance when she stood up. 

She looked like the most alone person on the planet.

20 minutes later I was home, checking in on each of my sleeping children. 

And I know that I am surrounded by people who love me.

Even on a long flight, half way between here and there.

Day -205

"I don't even remember what you used to look like".

A friend told me that today, while the new guy in our group looked puzzled. I left it for someone else to explain, the story is already too long.

I can remember what I used to look like before cancer, but I also remember what I looked like when I was twenty. Both were perfectly fine with me, but I will never look either way again.

That's life people. Full of change and surprises. I would have never cut my hair this short on my own. Not in a million years.

And who knows what else I wouldn't have done.

No I am up for anything.

Day - 203. A hairy situation

I have been traveling a lot the last few days. Last weekend was our quick trip to the Bay Area, and today I traveled to NYC.

You would be surprised how many different people look at your ID while traveling. When you get your ticket, security, the hotel.

On each occasion I recieved a different reaction to my ID photo and the gal standing in the flesh and blood.

At the Ticket counter. "Wow you really went for it didn't you?".

At first I wasn't sure what she meant, and then said, "I guess you could say that, but it really was not my choice.".

Dorris, the woman at the ticket counter, put two and two together then told me how her sister had gone through the same thing, and how great she was doing now etc.

Next up was security. The barely legal TSA agent said,"wow did you donate your hair?"

"umm I guess you can say that"' was my reply.

The man behind me said, "you look like a survivor, I am a survivor too". Before I could more than smile I was pushed along through the security line.

Last was checking into the hotel tonight. The desk clerk looked at me and said, "I like it much better short.".

This time I simply smiled and said, "thank you"

Day 200 - Were Expanding!

First off, I can't believe I just typed in Day 200...While I am happy that those 200 days are behind us, it is the next 200, and the next, and the next, and the next, that I am most looking forward to.

Yesterday I ran into a colleague/friend who had not seen me in a while.  She was so excited that I was at the half way point in all of this, and really encouraged me to plan a trip to Bora Bora to celebrate.  (she had just returned from an amazing time there).

With stars in my eyes I spent a little time last night researching such a trip.  Then I started talking to Graham about it (he couldn't understand the rooms on stilts over the water bit, but I had him at on site marine biologist, swimming with Manta Rays, and the all important feeding sharks).

I am not sure it is in the cards (read $$$) quite yet, but I did tell Graham it is always important to have a dream trip that you can look forward to, and I think that is our trip.

Today I went in for my second expansion, just when the cement bra was starting to soften, we are back at the cement bra stage again.  This time just in time for my weekend with Doug in Palo Alto (Go Ducks!).

Imagine wearing your most uncomfortable underwire bra, the one that has the wire that pokes in your sides every once and a while.  Add in that feeling of going too long between nursing your infant.  Sprinkle in the dull roar of a bad cut still healing, and you are half way there. 

The good news is, since we are on turbo expansion here in Portland, it looks like I probably only have one more to go.  And if the plastic surgeon is right, we should be able to get the implants in before the beginning of radiation. 

Looks like instead of singing, "all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth", I will be signing, "all I want for Christmas is my two soft implants".

Go Ducks!

199- OK

A good friend of mine is facing a bit of a heath scare.  I won't go into details here, but lets just say she is waiting for some results that should come tomorrow.

Chances are everything will be just fine, we will all breathe a sigh of relief, and blissfully move on. 

She laughed when I told her I knew exactly how she felt.  I tried to reassure her that everything was going to be OK. 

But I could tell she knew I was lying.

Especially since everything was not OK for me.

My mom was in town when I told her that I felt a lump in my breast.  She reassured me that one of my aunts found those all the time, and each time they checked out to be benign cysts.

OK.

At my Dr.'s office, the nurse practitioner examined me, and again reassured me that it was likely nothing. 

OK

I told her I wanted a mammogram just to be sure.

Ummm...not OK.

So I guess I am the last person to tell you that everything is going to be OK.

Or maybe I have become an authority on it.  Maybe I am an example of even when it is really bad and scary everything can turn out OK.

Day 198 - fight on

I had a great conversation with a friend the other day who has seen her husband "beat" kidney cancer, only then to watch her father-in-law die of the exact same disease.

She was saying how frustrating it is when people describe cancer patients as "fighters", as someone they know is going to "beat" this disease.

The reality is, a lot of this is out of our control.  Someone who dies of cancer, or has a recurrence, is no less of a fighter than someone in remission. 

Bad stuff happens to good people.

Our most popular icon of cancer recovery is Lance Armstrong.  I am sure his attitude and mental state had a lot to do with his recovery, but plenty of people with the same diagnosis and mental strength do not have similar outcomes.

My father was a "fighter".  He, like me, would accept any treatment, if only to, "live one more day".  Did he die because he gave up?  Did cancer "beat" him?  Nope, not at all.  He died because cancer is sneaky.  He died because cancer, is at times, too formidable of an opponent.

All of this leads me back to the much used term, "Survivor".  For a while there I felt that claiming I survived cancer meant that I was giving cancer too much power. 

But I must admit, cancer is no joke.  And trying to get to the other side of it is pretty tough, as much as I hate to admit, even on me.

So when I came back to my office and saw this posted on my wall I had to agree:

Day 197 - Why me?

I have been struggling a bit lately. 

For the last 190 days we have had a pretty clear picture of what was ahead of us. 

Chemo.   Check.

Bilateral Mastectomy.  Check.

Possible radiation.  Check.

In the mail today arrived a thick packet inviting me to join a clinical trial for people with a similar diagnosis as mine.  I respectfully read through the paper work, but when I got to what the trail exactly entailed I was less than enthusiastic.

Let's just say it is a 5 year commitment to taking a drug every day.  On top of everything else.

And that's when it hit me...again.

This is really happening.  This really is my life.

And so I cried.

I cried because:
I am the one with cancer. 
I am the one who will be considered for clinical trials. 
I am the one who will visit the Dr. more than anyone I know.
I am the one with an IV port in my chest. 
I am the one who lost all her hair. 
I am the one who lived through 16 rounds of chemo.  
I am the one with expander's that are more uncomfortable than you can imagine.
I am the one with 3 kids who I am determined to see grow up. 

But who else if not me?

Day- 193 I have had my fill

The last week has been a whirlwind.

Each day I felt a little better, and was out and about a lot. Had coffee dates, lunch dates, pick up kid dates, and a million Dr.'s appointments.

I think there should be a special parking spot for me at Good Sam. I was there literally every day this week.

Today was the most memorable appointment. It was the first time I saw my plastic surgeon after my surgery.

He was really surprised when I told him I was going to need radiation. He told me that during surgery they do a quick pathology and it came back zero cancer. After surgery they always send samples for more extensive testing.

That is when they came back with small signs of residual cancer. He said that the first test is 90% accurate which explains his surprise.

I still have some decisions to make regarding how quickly radiation will start, but will get to that in a few weeks.

For now it's all about expansion, which looks something like this:

Dr. Z fills two huge syringes with saline.

He uses a magnet to locate the ports that are a part of each of my expanders.

A needle is inserted (think Pulp Fiction), "that won't hurt a bit" (I beg to differ).

And you literally watch as your boobies grow right before your eyes.

Now I feel like I am wearing a cement bra.

Just in time for the weekend.

Day - 192 eat the rainbow

I met with a nutritionist today who specializes in treating people with cancer.

She shed some light on my eating habits (I do a pretty good job), but there are a few things that I will have to break up with once and for all.

Sugar - oh we have had such a long and lovely relationship. I have loved the lemon heads, bitohoney, now and laters, hot tamales, sugar babies, milk duds, that you nurtured and brought to life. I am sure I will dabble in your handiwork every once and a while. For now I bid you adieu, we will likely meet again in a piece of dark chocolate (at least 70% coco).

White flour - we have been breaking up for years, but I return your calls every once in a while when the pizza cravings get too intense.  You have not seen the last of me...yet.

Alcohol - you have been getting a bad rap lately in breast cancer circles and it seems it is well deserved. I will indulge in your pleasant libations on occasion, but you have made me swing from the chandeliers for the last time.

We will add in some new friends to replace our old ones; flax seed, turmeric, fish oil.

From what I have heard they really know how to party...

Doing everything I can to HEAL and deal.

D