First-I would like to thank Don't Worry Be Happy Shirts and all of you who bought t-shirts. It helped make this trip possible.
Referring back to the title Anderson 360, no, not Anderson Cooper, MD Anderson in Texas. I went to Texas last week to get a third opinion about my treatment options. I have had surgery and chemotherapy. The conclusion is usually radiation therapy followed by hormone therapy. That is what has been recommended by my doctors in CA. Normally that would have sounded fine by me, but the pathology did not come back as well as expected after surgery. I had positive lymph nodes and several positive margins throughout the breast tissue. So it was time to have another look see.
Christian's sister lives about 10 minutes away from MD Anderson and has been asking me to come out since my diagnosis. I finally went and it was good. They want to treat my cancer much more aggressively because I am so young. The really nice part about all of this cancer stuff is that everyone keeps telling me how young I am at every office visit.
By treating this cancer aggressively they are suggesting another surgery. I had a simple bilateral mastectomy-they want to give me a modified radical mastectomy. That would possibly be followed by more chemo and then radiation with reconstruction much farther down the line. They came to these conclusions by running a multitude of tests-CT, MRI, ultrasound, blood work up, and X-ray. No part of me has gone untouched. You get used to walking around in scrubs and gowns and I met some really nice people. There was a man from El Paso, Texas who had stage IV prostate cancer, but was just raving about his wife's artistic talents and his sons who are both graduates of Texas A&M.
Sally Kim took good care of me while I was there-waiting at the doctors, cooking great food, and taking great notes during each visit. Christiev came to spend some time in the waiting rooms with us and hang out in Sally Kim's kitchen. My mom held down the homefront-getting the kids to their specified locations, feeding those picky little eaters, and tackling homework.
Now that Christmas is here we are going to enjoy some time together and thank God for all that we have.
Merry Christmas
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Recovery, Well...
I had surgery on November 21st. It went well, my family stayed for 14 hours in the waiting room-no, the surgery did not take that long, but there were some delays and recovery time in there too. I half awoke in the recovery room to two male nurses arguing about me going home. They said I was. I cracked one eye open and said, "Dr. Suh said I could stay. I am staying. Call Dr. Mattson-Gates, I am staying the night. Oh yeah, I am in pain, can you give me something?" They gave me morphine. YUCK! Did I tell you that all opiate based narcotics make me vomit? I made it through recovery and being moved to my room all without "decorating" the floor or a person. I just kept breathing through my nose and wishing it all away.
I know I seem to say this a lot, but I had two fabulous nurses, Michelle and Althea, who took care of me all night. Christian made a bed on the couch and they gave him some blankets and stuff. I awoke about midnight, not feeling too hot. I knew it was coming-the barfing. I grabbed my little styrofoam cup and then realized too small. I ripped the top off of the pitcher of water they had brought-mmmm, too small too. I was like Goldilocks. Which one was going to be just right? I called out for my knight in shining armor-Christian-and he rushed to my side with none other than the bed pan-pee hat. I was lucid enough to realize, please no, not the place where I have to go to the bathroom, please just get the colored bowl that is for barfing. He made it, and all was well.
I thought all was well until cheery Michelle came in to announce I had until 1 am to use the restroom on my own. I knew what they had planned if I did not conform to their ways. I would have to get a catheter and there was no way that was going to happen. I mean really, they just chopped my top half off, did they have to mess with the bottom part of me too?
I dredged up the strength at 12:55 and went to the restroom with not just Michelle, but sweet Althea too. There I was with a bucket in my lap barfing my lungs up, but I went #1-so no catheter for me. VICTORY!Then Althea tucked me back into bed and the next thing I knew it was 6am. Praise the Lord! No more barfing and no more opiates.
I know I seem to say this a lot, but I had two fabulous nurses, Michelle and Althea, who took care of me all night. Christian made a bed on the couch and they gave him some blankets and stuff. I awoke about midnight, not feeling too hot. I knew it was coming-the barfing. I grabbed my little styrofoam cup and then realized too small. I ripped the top off of the pitcher of water they had brought-mmmm, too small too. I was like Goldilocks. Which one was going to be just right? I called out for my knight in shining armor-Christian-and he rushed to my side with none other than the bed pan-pee hat. I was lucid enough to realize, please no, not the place where I have to go to the bathroom, please just get the colored bowl that is for barfing. He made it, and all was well.
I thought all was well until cheery Michelle came in to announce I had until 1 am to use the restroom on my own. I knew what they had planned if I did not conform to their ways. I would have to get a catheter and there was no way that was going to happen. I mean really, they just chopped my top half off, did they have to mess with the bottom part of me too?
I dredged up the strength at 12:55 and went to the restroom with not just Michelle, but sweet Althea too. There I was with a bucket in my lap barfing my lungs up, but I went #1-so no catheter for me. VICTORY!Then Althea tucked me back into bed and the next thing I knew it was 6am. Praise the Lord! No more barfing and no more opiates.
Monday, December 5, 2011
What Really Happened? Beauty School Dropout
Disclaimer*Remember-I was going into surgery and some of my memories are hazy at best because they like you drugged and malleable for surgery.
My surgery was scheduled for November 21st. We woke up early and checked into the hospital at 6:30am. When we walked in there was my father-in-law waiting for us with his newspaper and coffee. It was so sweet and he looked so steady, like it was all a piece of cake. This is the guy you definitely want in your corner when your scared or uncertain. I went back into pre-op and was given the requisite paper gown, socks, and beautiful head cover(think large hair net that flops from side to side). The gown and socks were a really cute purple color so at least I felt partially fashionable. It was really cold in the room. The nurse tucked me in like I was a little girl and said she would warm me up. The next thing I know she hooked a vacuum hose up to a hole in the SIDE of my paper gown and warm air filled my gown and bed. It was blissful. I was asked a million questions to which I nodded and smiled just comfortable in my warm bed. My mom came back to visit, Papa came to pray over me, Sam hung out with us and talked to the anesthesiologist, but then it was time to draw some purple marks all over me and nobody but my husband should see that-so there was a break in the visits. Curtains closed, gown moved, the drawing began and looked interesting. Then Dr.Mattson-Gates signed both sides with a flourish and I was ready. I got settled back in bed, the curtain was whipped back and Josh was there, he really scared me. I think we both jumped(he thought he might see something he never should and I feared a big guy looming behind a curtain in a place where they chop you up). We hung out with Josh and he prayed over me giving me peace that had started to slip a little.
I was given some drugs to relax before surgery and then it gets a little hazy. Beth came back to chat, my mom came back again, and then I don't really know much, it all runs together. There was a Dr.Greaser(real name-who had coffee breath that I just wanted to keep smelling because I do love my coffee) who injected me not once, not twice, but four times in places where I have never been stabbed. Daniel(the nurse) was kind and let me crush his hand as long as I promised not to dig my fingernails into him. Some stuff caused a delay so I didn't get into surgery until 12(I think). While I waited I played Words with Friends-thank you Sam.
Then it was Go Time. They wheeled me down the hall(I had foolishly rejected the 2nd dose of relaxation drug)and of course I became the nervous talker. What's your name? This is all for me? Do you have children? What are your plans for Thanksgiving? Me?, No, I am not cooking this year-you get the picture. Fill the white walls and sterile objects with chatter and they will disappear, right? They moved me to the surgical table and all I thought was how do fat people not fall off of this thing. It was as skinny as my 16 year old, but it worked. Then my arms were laid out either in crucifixion or I hope supplication? I was given an IV and this is where I wonder what happened...
Was the operating room filled with music that the doctor liked(maybe a little Beyonce and Adele followed by some Foo Fighters? Did the doctors and nurses discuss the mundane tasks they had to do after work that day? Was there blood and gore everywhere as they chopped, sliced, and diced removing that cancer from me? Did they open me up and say oh no? Was it like Dr. 90210 and I just looked like a jellyfish hanging everywhere?
I like to picture the scene from the movie Grease-"Beauty School Drop Out". A little singing, dancing, and cute outfits that make everything dreamy when you wake up.
My surgery was scheduled for November 21st. We woke up early and checked into the hospital at 6:30am. When we walked in there was my father-in-law waiting for us with his newspaper and coffee. It was so sweet and he looked so steady, like it was all a piece of cake. This is the guy you definitely want in your corner when your scared or uncertain. I went back into pre-op and was given the requisite paper gown, socks, and beautiful head cover(think large hair net that flops from side to side). The gown and socks were a really cute purple color so at least I felt partially fashionable. It was really cold in the room. The nurse tucked me in like I was a little girl and said she would warm me up. The next thing I know she hooked a vacuum hose up to a hole in the SIDE of my paper gown and warm air filled my gown and bed. It was blissful. I was asked a million questions to which I nodded and smiled just comfortable in my warm bed. My mom came back to visit, Papa came to pray over me, Sam hung out with us and talked to the anesthesiologist, but then it was time to draw some purple marks all over me and nobody but my husband should see that-so there was a break in the visits. Curtains closed, gown moved, the drawing began and looked interesting. Then Dr.Mattson-Gates signed both sides with a flourish and I was ready. I got settled back in bed, the curtain was whipped back and Josh was there, he really scared me. I think we both jumped(he thought he might see something he never should and I feared a big guy looming behind a curtain in a place where they chop you up). We hung out with Josh and he prayed over me giving me peace that had started to slip a little.
I was given some drugs to relax before surgery and then it gets a little hazy. Beth came back to chat, my mom came back again, and then I don't really know much, it all runs together. There was a Dr.Greaser(real name-who had coffee breath that I just wanted to keep smelling because I do love my coffee) who injected me not once, not twice, but four times in places where I have never been stabbed. Daniel(the nurse) was kind and let me crush his hand as long as I promised not to dig my fingernails into him. Some stuff caused a delay so I didn't get into surgery until 12(I think). While I waited I played Words with Friends-thank you Sam.
Then it was Go Time. They wheeled me down the hall(I had foolishly rejected the 2nd dose of relaxation drug)and of course I became the nervous talker. What's your name? This is all for me? Do you have children? What are your plans for Thanksgiving? Me?, No, I am not cooking this year-you get the picture. Fill the white walls and sterile objects with chatter and they will disappear, right? They moved me to the surgical table and all I thought was how do fat people not fall off of this thing. It was as skinny as my 16 year old, but it worked. Then my arms were laid out either in crucifixion or I hope supplication? I was given an IV and this is where I wonder what happened...
Was the operating room filled with music that the doctor liked(maybe a little Beyonce and Adele followed by some Foo Fighters? Did the doctors and nurses discuss the mundane tasks they had to do after work that day? Was there blood and gore everywhere as they chopped, sliced, and diced removing that cancer from me? Did they open me up and say oh no? Was it like Dr. 90210 and I just looked like a jellyfish hanging everywhere?
I like to picture the scene from the movie Grease-"Beauty School Drop Out". A little singing, dancing, and cute outfits that make everything dreamy when you wake up.
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