Tues, 31 Jan 2006

My Dear Friends,

Just a quick note because I'm off to physical therapy.

PT is going well, I suppose. I was hurting this weekend, probably because I took a long walk with the girls on Saturday, after having PT on Friday. A few other people were having aches and pains, too. We think the weather may have contributed to it.

Went to a local hockey game on Friday. Who's walking out next to us? The physical therapist and his family! What a strange coincidence!

The ortho surgeon called me with the results of the tests on my bone. Confirmed the cancer was the same as in the breast.

Peeked at the heart test results. The heart is weaker than when I started treatment, but still in the range to handle Herceptin. The doc may decide otherwise (next week) but they did give me Herceptin yesterday.

Thank you for your prayers.

Love,
Jeanette

Thurs, 26 Jan 2006

My Dear Friends,

Went to the funeral home last night instead of Tuesday. They said a rosary. I don't think the priest knew Susan's name because he kept referring to her as "this woman"... like "Forgive this woman her sins" etc.

I sat in a comfortable chair on the edge of the room, halfway back. You don't want to overexaggerate your importance by sitting too close to the front. The front row was her husband and two grown sons, an empty row, then everyone else.

A couple of women were gabbing loudly well into the Apostle's Creed, oblivious that the rosary had started. Others tried to get their attention several times before the women looked around and realized they should shut up.

After that, the only sound was the clinking of rosary beads between prayers. One of the benefits of organized religion is the sense of community. Prayer seems more powerful when forty people are saying the same thing.

My chair was facing the opposite side of the room, not the front. It was a ready excuse not to stare at the coffin. I kept looking up at the ceiling, with its standard white tiles with all the little holes in them. The ceiling was not flat, but more like an accordion. Down and up, down and up. Seemed ready to fold. Another reminder of how precariously my own life is perched.

Her husband had been very glad to see me when I arrived. Gave me a big hug and thanked me profusely. Poor guy. They would've been married 30 years this summer. Talked to him briefly after the rosary. He said the things we all say... she's better off, her last few days were hard...
He's a big guy but I scolded him because he looked a lot thinner. That's the Polish in me... Are you eating?

I'm glad I went, I guess. They did have pictures of her in the room, so I saw her when she was well. She was beautiful. Died at 52.

Quite the reality check. When I got home, I hugged my babies an extra long time.

*************** *************** ************* ************** **************

OK, enough of that mournful stuff. People have been asking how I'm doing lately.

This week, I am continuing the physical therapy. The therapist, I'll call him J., says he already sees improvement in my strength. That was good to hear.

Haven't heard the results of the heart test yet.

Felt tired this week but not as nauseous. Had a little food trouble this past weekend. Ate a hotdog with Hormel chili and the spices in the chili burned in my throat. (Dad, I do not eat chili dogs every day. Life is short, no ragging.) Anyway, when I was in chemo in 2003, I could not even eat ketchup! Chemo kills fast-growing cells, including those in your mouth. Makes certain foods burn. Ketchup is still OK this time.

Knock on wood, I still have a full head of hair. (Watch it fall out tomorrow because I said something!)

That's about it. Thank you for your continued prayers.

Love,
Jeanette

Mon, 23 Jan 2006

My Dear Friends,

As I sat in the recliner at the end of the rectangular chemo room, sewing craft show doll clothes while the IV bags dripped, I could see my long-haired nurse (LH) writing in some patient files on the counter at the far left side of the room. The old gentleman, still with most of his hair, is taking his treatment in the recliner on the right wall next to me, looking and feeling well. The three beds along the wall are empty, which would be a good thing... no new cancer patients.

I could not see my other nurse, we'll call her short-hair (SH) so I don't use names, as she was on the other side of the counter. Their office / chemo preparation space is a little rectangle, attached off to the left side of the big one.

The phone rings. SH answers but I cannot hear what she is saying. A few seconds pass and I notice LH look up from her files.

She stares across the counter and says, "Susan?" and "When?"

I purse my lips to stop the tears, "LH?"

Without looking at me, she holds up her hand until she gets the full story first.

I had told LH earlier that Susan was sleeping when I went to see her on Thursday. I will refrain from making any comment on her appearance out of respect. What sticks most in my mind was the food on her swinging tabletop. Three Twinkies, an apple and some fruit juice. Life is short, eat Twinkies? For some reason, I could not get that image out of my head all weekend.

LH walks over to me. Susan died last night. She was ready and wanted to go. Holding back her own tears, LH hugs me and says she'll be sure to tell me of the arrangements as soon as she knows. I marvel at how they can do this job. LH tells me the nurses learn so much from the patients that it's a journey of personal growth for them. LH is tough. She has a serious look on her face most of the time but she is very compassionate.

LH walks back to the counter and picks up her pen.

Before she even starts to write, she turns to look at me. Then she reads my mind.

"You know, Jeanette, different situation," LH says in a stern yet reassuring tone. "She was farther advanced when we started treating her. Not in the same place as you."

I sigh looking down, "Yeah, I know. I'm walking a different path."

Someone calls back later with the arrangements. LH gives me a note. I will probably pay my respects tomorrow.

********************************************
Here's what I had planned to write today. It seems even more relevant now.

Last night, I was walking with the girls. The same half mile in baby steps that we'd done twice before. We pass a colonial like so many others in the sub, the light shining around the edges of the living room curtains.

"I wonder how that family is doing?" one says.

"Why?" I ask. "What happened?"

"The 21-year-old son committed suicide in December," she says. "Hung himself in the basement."

"Oh my God," I look over my shoulder at the house.

My first thought was that house is gonna be seriously haunted!

I say, "I would NOT spend a single night in that house!"

"No choice," she says. "Single mother, what're you gonna do? There's also a younger brother."

We keep walking and then I begin to stew.

I am SO angry. How dare he throw away something that I am fighting so hard to hold onto! Not to mention my neighbor Jennifer! And think of Susan! One man's trash is another man's treasure. Stupid kid. How I wish I had known him.

How I wish he could have put LIFE in a little gift box and tell me, "Here. I won't be needing this anymore. You can have it."

I should probably be more compassionate, as I have known many mentally ill people in my life. The kid obviously had issues. What a terrible mistake!

Still, the injustice is really hard to swallow.

Jeanette

Sat, 21 Jan 2006

My Dear Friends,

This morning it occurred to me that I've always wanted to try skydiving. That probably falls under the hip surgeon's No-running-or-jumping-for-the-rest-of-your-life Rule.

I think I'll ask anyway. That should get a rise outta her.

Jeanette :)

Weds, 18 Jan 2006

My Dear Friends,

Just a quick update....

Saw the oncologist on Monday. Routine check-up. She listened to my lungs and felt for lymph nodes around my collarbone & neck. OK so far.

She said,"No more surprises from you! It's only in the bones, let's keep it there."

And New Orleans was only hit by two hurricanes.

Went to the physical therapist for the first time today. It's the same place Mark went for his broken arm last summer. Same guy, too.

I had thought I was doing pretty well but now I realize just how weak the leg is...

He tested the leg in various ways. One test did not turn out so well. I was lying on my stomach and he said to bend my right knee and lift the leg up. When I did that, it turned at a weird angle away from my body and brought me to tears. Won't be doing that again.

As he suspected, I can't do half of the homework exercises he gave me, including lifting my knee up while in the seated position. He said it'll all come in time but that we have a lot of work to do.

He said there was still some swelling in the thigh. I didn't notice any until the massage therapist was done with me!

Have a routine heart test tomorrow, to monitor the effects of the chemo. More PT in the afternoon. Not looking forward to that.

Physically, I had felt pretty good after chemo this week. Today, the PT just bummed me out.

I've also been thinking about a nice lady I met in chemo who is not doing so well. Let's not gloss over it, her family is talking hospice. I guess I should expect these outcomes sometimes when moving in cancer circles but it's hard to watch good people and their families go through this. I don't usually mention other people's names here, but please pray for Susan and her family. She's very religious. We once said a rosary together in chemo.

There, but for the grace of God, go I...

Love,
Jeanette

Sat, 14 Jan 2006

My Dear Friends,

I'm observant! Been using these crutches for two months and first noticed yesterday that they're set to the wrong height! An inch too high! No wonder I was walking crooked. Sigh.

Still feel tired but a little more upbeat than last time.

Went to the orthopedic surgeon on Thursday. (You're gonna love this.) As usual, she sends the doctor-in-training to check me out first. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me this next question..."So, are you in physical therapy?"

NOOOOOOOO!

"But it says "strengthening exercises" in your chart..."

Whatever.

Then the tech comes in to take x-rays. I fend her off. I had x-rays every week in radiation. Use those, I tell her.

"Did the doctor ask for them?"

"No, the doc doesn't know I had radiation."

The tech goes away.

More than an hour after my appointment time, I finally see the doctor.

I get up and walk for her, she nods in recoginition. I explain that I had radiation, that both my oncologist and the rad oncologist said I needed it.

I tell her, "My oncologist had said, "Why aren't you in radiation?""

"Because I cut out the bone!" the doc replies with an air of defeat.

(Remember, the oncologist had explained that surgeons like to think they got every little cell. Taking radiation is like telling them they may have missed something and it questions their skill. Well, I'm in battle here. I will take all steps necessary. I'm not going to risk another tumor just to prevent hurt feelings!)

After that, she tests the strength of my right leg. She presses down on my knee and asks me to lift up. She presses on the outside and asks me to open. Presses on the inside, try to close.

At one point she says softly,"Oh, come on."

She was not happy with the weakness. I felt like I had disappointed a teacher. That feeling passed as I realized I am perfectly willing to put in the hard work necessary to rehabilitate myself but she failed to give me the tools. She had only suggested one exercise in the past. Not enough.

Finally, she writes the prescription (or should I say paragraph?) for physical therapy. Three times a week for a month. Will call the P.T. place down the street on Monday.

About those tests on the bone, she couldn't find them but was certain they'd been done. She'd call on it. If they weren't done, she'd ask for them again.

That's the latest.

The deacon from my church will probably visit me next week. He's involved in the homeless ministry so I bought some jars of peanut butter for him at the grocery store yesterday.

As the kids were helping put them in the cart, I joked that I pay the deacon in peanut butter when he comes to see me. Their eyes got big.

"Really?" they asked.

Silly kids. :)

Love,
Jeanette

Tues, 10 Jan 2005

My Dear Friends,

Feel like I should say something profound on my birthday but can't think of anything.

Felt good this morning but started crashing at around 10:30am. Didn't take a nap but probably should've.

The first day after chemo seems to be when I get depressed about the whole situation. I keep thinking of stuff that's coming up in the next year or so... the craft shows I've registered for, a possible class reunion (if someone plans it) and my sister's wedding. I wonder how long I'll be around. Pretty scary to think about it.

It's 10:15pm. I think I'll quit while I'm ahead and write when I feel better.

Love,
Jeanette

Mon, 9 January 2006

My Dear Friends,

It's late so I'll try to make this short.

First, I need to thank everyone at my sister's office for the very special Christmas gift. She made a huge card and a ton of people signed it with good wishes and words of encouragement. It brings tears of joy every time I read it.

Second, I should mention that the shoulder pain I had on the right side is better. It was either a strain that healed up or a spot of cancer the chemo is killing. So I'm not going to worry about that anymore.

Never made it to the 9:00 AM support group meeting on Saturday. My parents came to pick up my youngest for his swimming lesson and Dad informed me that the roads were a sheet of black ice. I left a little after 8:30 AM which in normal conditions should have been fine.

Wow, were those roads bad! Everyone was being careful, going about 10 mph, leaving lots of braking distance. As I approached the freeway, I could see that those cars were going super slow, too. The whole world was moving in slow motion, just like in the movies. It was pretty surreal. People always complain about others moving too fast...that guy should slow down...she's rushing around. I felt as though I'd awakened in a Twilight Zone episode. It happened because we wished it.

Anyway, two double bottom gravel haulers were sitting on the opposite exit ramp. They wisely said "Screw this!" and parked it. How scary to be driving such a heavy load! No sign of the salt trucks yet. As I made my way to the ramp of the second freeway on my route, I noticed a truck going very slowly ahead of me. Little did I realize just how slowly! Another truck had pulled aside on that ramp as well. The truck in motion slowed down even more. We got up to 4 mph once. I discovered it was possible to go zero miles per hour and not be in park! Who knew!

Looking for some way to pass the time on the ramp, I searched for my cell phone. I was going to call Dad to tell him I was skipping the support group meeting, as it would be over by the time I got there. No cell phone! Of all days to forget it at home!

The SUV in front of me decided to drive off the shoulder and halfway onto the grass for more traction. Actually a good idea. I followed to pass the truck still inching along, as did many people behind me.

I had gone five miles in 40 minutes and still had about 15 miles to go. It was already 9:15 AM as I approached the exit where the swim lessons were taking place. In my rearview mirror, I saw a salt truck! I laughed as a few grains clinked against the side of my car as I exited the freeway. Thanks for nothin'!

The parents were happy and relieved to see me at the pool. They were glad I decided not to risk the trip and I thanked them anyway for taking my little one to lessons. I said it must be weird for them to watch their grandson take lessons in the same place I had done so 25 years ago!

We celebrated my 38th birthday on Sunday. Not my actual birthday but close enough. I was happy to see it.

Chemo was today. Took four hours. One of the drips was going too slowly at first so that stretched it out. The nurses frowned on my idea to give the bag a squeeze to catch up. :)

Walked half a mile tonight with "the girls" (my neighbors). It was the first walk since early November (before surgery) when the docs put me on crutches. The girls were very happy I was able to rejoin them. So was I. We walked slower than normal since I used one crutch. It was really good to get back to walking. We'll see if I'm stiff tomorrow.

Please keep me in your prayers.

Love,
Jeanette

Thurs, 6 Jan 2006

My Dear Friends,

Very tired today. Stayed up later than I should've.

Finished radiation yesterday. Will write at a later date about what radiation is like. But now, I'll tell you how this all started, for new friends who've just tuned in.

In March 2003, two months after my 35th birthday, I visited my family doctor for a sinus infection.

Rats, the power just went out. I'll try to post this little part before I type the whole thing and lose it....

OK, that seemed to work. Let me continue...

Being a good doctor, she took the opportunity to discuss a full spectrum of women's health issues with me. When she came to breast cancer, she recommended a baseline mammogram between the ages of 35 and 40. My answer may have forever changed my life. I told her I was too young, I had five years til I'm 40, I'll put it off. In truth I was afraid of the pain of a mammogram. What a dummy!

In June 2003, I went to my gynecologist for the yearly stuff. She did the manual breast exam which was normal. In July, I did a self-exam like every month. Found nothing.

Woke up one morning in the middle of August 2003 and half of my left breast was hard. It couldn't be cancer, I told myself. That could never happen to me. I avoided all the bad stuff (etc, etc, you've heard me lament this point before).

Maybe it was just a change in the breast. Maybe I was pregnant. We were considering a third. We weren't trying but we weren't being extra careful either. Two pregnancy tests came back negative. I waited. Stupid. I waited.

Decided to call the gynecologist in mid-September. She was out til early October. Made my appointment. The first time I heard the word "carcinoma" was when the gyn was talking to her secretary about sending a slide to the lab. She had tried to aspirate the breast with a needle just in case it was the cyst from hell but no fluid came. She made a slide from the cells and put me on an antibiotic.

Of course a few days later I got the phone call we all dread. Abnormal cells. More tests. Then I cried harder than I ever did in my whole life. Very frightening.

October was testing and waiting for results. Mammograms, biopsies, tissue extractions with a tool similar to a caulking gun (hyperventilated during that test, didn't hurt but no fun to watch). When the surgeon told me it was cancer, he cried! Not good when your doctor cries! Honestly, Mark and I cried mostly because we knew we would not have our third child.

I had spent all of October 2003 walking around thinking I was going to die the following week. Now I know it doesn't work that way. Met my oncologist on the last Friday in October. She said,"See you on Monday for chemo!"

I was happy to start treatment because I felt I was doing something to fight the cancer. They gave me the elephant guns of chemo: Adriamycin ("The Red Devil") and Taxol. My hair started to fall out two or three weeks later. To save the mess, I took the barber shears I use on the boys into the bathroom with a boom box. I blared "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns N Roses and shaved my own head! It was quite empowering.

Four months later, I finished chemo. They gave me March 2004 off to build up my system for the double mastectomy on April 7th. Heck of a way to get out of the last week of tax season! I had worked the whole way through, taking a couple days off every three weeks for chemo recovery.

They took the left breast and about 22 lymph nodes and I had them do the right as a preventative. (One doc had said the right x-ray would always look like it had cancer because of the biopsy scar tissue. They had not found cancer in the right.) Got to the hospital at 8 AM, was on the freeway going home by 4 PM the same day. Hence the term "drive-thru mastectomy".

Had my surgical drains in for six weeks, then started radiation. Did that every business day for 6 1/2 weeks.

The rest of the year was spent testing and following up on every little shadow anywhere in my body. Everything always came up fine. I was officially in remission. (I hate the word "remission". It makes it sound like it'll come back.) In March 2005, an occasional pain in my hip became worse. It was tax season again, I told myself. It was arthritis, it was stress. Stupid.

In May 2005, my oncologist told me about Herceptin, a drug that could now be used as a preventative for patients with Her-2 positive cancers. Her-2 is a protein that makes the cancer grow faster. I had wanted so much to be done with this cancer thing. Herceptin would mean going to the doc once a week for a whole year. I was at work when I got the call. I was so upset about the prospect of more treatment that I went for a walk in the neighborhood behind the office. I walked quickly and near the end, I asked myself ,"So what do I do?"

The answer came, "You take your treatment."

Finally, a smart decision!

Two weeks after treament started in June, the hip pain stopped. Hmmm...

Everyone knows the rest of the story, how the pain came back full force in Sept with the stress of my layoff, how I vacuumed the carpet one day and couldn't stand up afterwards. Then they found the cancer, hip replacement ensued and here we are.

Wow, glad that's over. Hard to relive all that business.

By the way, I felt really good yesterday. Upbeat, in spite of not seeing the sun for two weeks. Today, it's actually shining. I think your prayers and good wishes are helping my mood. Thanks for doing that.

Love,
Jeanette

Tues, 3 January 2006

My Dear Friends,

Just a quick note, as it's 8am and I need to leave for treatment soon. This week it's just Herceptin so I shouldn't feel sick. Been having trouble kicking the nausea. Have to have food in my stomach most of the time to feel better.

Today's milestone was washing my right foot without that long sponge on a stick. I have also been able to pick things off the floor if I bend carefully at the knee.

Showing some signs of hair loss. I have been very nice to my hair lately, shampooing gently every other day with cool water. I let it air dry or use a cool hairdryer, which takes FOREVER. Of course it could be all for naught and I may be completely bald soon but so far so good.

Took a passport picture yesterday, in case I need to seek treatment abroad eventually.

Gotta go. Dad's here to take me to treatment.

Love,
Jeanette