Tribal Woman Warrior meets Han Solo who returns to the Vampire Lounge

Last week I returned to the vampire lounge. It was definitely a new experience. Since I had a double mastectomy and axillary node dissection I cannot have blood drawn the traditional way. I mentioned this before that my blood is now drawn from my feet-gross. This time I had to submit 4 full vials of blood for a clinical trial. Yes, 4 FULL vials. It took three nurses, two holes in my foot, followed by the geyser in my ankle. Let's just say that I would be happy to never repeat that process.
The good news is that week one of radiation done. I was informed about the process and the long term commitment. I signed on the dotted line excited to get this phase of treatment done. What I didn't expect was how I would look or how the machinery would look. Other institutions tattoo little dots on you to line up the radiation beams, but not MD Anderson. They tattoo other parts of the body, but the breast cancer patients are special.
At my first appointment I laid down on a CT table while three therapists and a doctor stood over me and began to come up with my treatment plan. I have already divulged what a nervous chatty catty I can be, and that I do not like uncomfortable silences when I am the center of attention. As the three therapists stood over me I was able to extract from them their entire life stories. Yes, two had children(one baby 8 months old / the other a boy and a girl ages 10 & 12). The other tech was a student completing his externship. I know where they all went to school and how long they have been married. I did not ask their favorite color, but maybe next time.
While I was chatting away they were drawing all over my torso. They used Sharpie paint pens that sounded like a spray paint can being shook. I have four beautiful colors(blue, coral, black, & hot pink) from my belly button up to my neck. I feel like a tribal warrior who needs a large bone through my nose. I get strange looks on the street, but it is better than having no hair and eyebrows. They also made me a cradle. The cradle is similar to a bean bag, but once it conforms to your body it is freeze dried. Then every time you come in for radiation they get out your cradle and you lie in it. I like to think of it as my little playpen.
Once my drawing was complete I moved on to the next phase of treatment-the actual radiation. I feel a little like Han Solo when he was frozen in carbonite. The room has these huge machines that rotate around you and I wear goggles with a computer image reflected through them. It is a fascinating process filled with electrons and protons.
Next up-clinical trials-who knew I wouldn't mind being a lab rat.

Muppets & Puppets

As I stated in the last blog surgery was a success. Sally Kim nursed me back to health with fabulous food and care. There are no secrets between us now, she has been a trooper through every visit, asking all the difficult questions, and even playing nurse Nightingale. Yes, she bandaged me and even helped put this Humpty Dumpty body back together.
When I had been out of surgery for a few days she went to the Breast Cancer store to buy me a camisole. The camisole had special pouches for my drains and came with prosthesis to replace what had been removed.
Well, it was a shock, let me tell you. You have to pull this flesh colored contraption up over your feet, your knees, hips, and then put your drains in the pouches that velcro on. Since the garmet has to go over your lower half they suggest you go a size up from your normal size. My regular size is a medum-so I got a large. Sally Kim helped me slip into it(we never really thought we would be This Close). Drains in the pouches, slide the straps over the shoulders, and the pièce de résistance(the prosthesis).
Since my garment was a large they gave me large prosthesis to go in the camisole. Holy cow! They were huge! I mean huge! When I was a little girl my grandma gave me a Miss Piggy puppet-I felt like Miss Piggy and Dolly Parton combined. My chest led the way everywhere I went. They were just out there...way out there. I have already retired them, but I feel like they should be on display at a museum. Look ladies, for the low price of $40.00 you too can be any size you desire. Add to that my Muppet sleeves I wear for lymphadema I am looking fantastic.
Next thing you know I'll be singing Justin Timberlake(Not "Cry Me a River") as my hair is starting to curl like his in his early career(before he was stylish).
Thank goodness surgery is done and the next chapter-radiation-is waiting for me. Now I might look like a sunburned Miss Piggy/Justin Timberlake.

Take Back, Do Over, Mulligan

I am happy to report that I had surgery and I am done with slicing and dicing for now. I am going to move on to the next phase of my treatment which will include radiation and a possible clinical trial.
Since I like to do things the hard way(that is what my momma always said) I decided to apply that principle to my surgery too. Yes, the first surgery was canceled due to suspicious spots on my bones. It was rescheduled-but of course I was the .04% who had their lung punctured and surgery had to wait again. Alas, surgery on Feb 20th was a success-well sort of. Dr. Babiera was fabulous, she removed 42 lymph nodes from the left side(35 had cancer) and 27 from the right(only 4 had cancer). I now have widely clean margins-yes I have widely clean margins. Woohoo!!! Dr. Adelman was able to perform a little miracle and put in tissue expanders. I was set to go.
I had a little trouble during recovery. I am kind of a light weight so the drugs for pain make me barf and I was light headed and woozy. Dr. Sohn said I needed to walk around. Easy for him to say, and he kept saying it, every hour. Every time I tried to walk around I collapsed. Now, those of you who know me well know that I had to try and prove to Dr. Sohn how tough I was. Unfortunately, I wasn't that tough. It turns out, it wasn't me though(haha). I had a bleeder-they nicked an artery and I had to go back in for another surgery on Wednesday and a blood transfusion. I always tell my children to do things right the first time and my students too. I guess I forgot to tell the doctor because I had to go back in for what they term a "take back." Yes, they use the term "take back" and if they have to redo that it is called a "take back-do over." The language we learned on the playground is still applicable as an adult. I think they should rename it "oopsy" or something a little more catchy, maybe "eeny meeny miny moe." Needless to say it turned out great.
They took those little devilish cancer cells out of me and are now going to radiate the last stragglers. The song "Closing Time" applies well here.
"Closing time, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here
So gather up your jackets, move it to the exits
I hope you have found a friend
Closing time
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end, yeah."
Next time I'll tell you about my muppet suit and lymphedema-fabulous stuff