Pending Testing Results Are All Back

Well, I had my third chemo treatment this afternoon. The movie of choice today was "Soapdish", a comedy from the early 90's that neither Bo nor I had seen before. It was a parody on soap operas, and it appealed to my sense of humor, and Bo enjoyed it too. Three stars.

I actually had an appointment with the oncologist today, so she came into my treatment room for the exam. The genetic test results had come back. About 10% of breast (and ovarian) cancers are hereditary which means that a person has inherited a mutated gene from one or both parents. (Actually half of all women who have the mutation inherited the risk from their fathers, which sounds surprising, but from a genetics perspective makes total sense since half of the genetic material comes from the father.) It doesn't mean that the person has inherited cancer, it means the person has inherited a higher risk of developing that particular type of cancer. (Women with a BRCA mutation have a 33 - 50% risk of developing breast cancer by age 50 and a 56 - 87% risk by age 70.) Testing negative doesn't mean there is no risk, just that there is no increased risk, based on family history. A simple blood test analyzes two specific genes, BRCA1 and BRCA2 for the genetic changes or mutations. These two genes are known to help prevent breast and ovarian cancers by suppressing abnormal cell growth, and the mutation inhibits the genes from doing their intended duties.

I must pause here and give credit to the pamphlet "Beyond Risk to Options" published by Myriad Genetic Laborotories for the information contained in the above paragraph.

In my case, my grandmother and mother were diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 40. I had just turned 41. We all had cancer in our right breasts. In a way, I had always thought of breast cancer as my fate. (The metaphysical implications of all this are quite intriguing...) So, I was stunned to learn today that I did not have the known genetic marker for either the BRAC1 or BRAC2 genes. Whoa! Wait! What? You mean? Huh?????

Okay, so what does that mean? Well, from a treatment standpoint, I now have a decision to make. Had the test come back positive, the recommended course of action would have been a double mastectomy and ovary removal. Now, it is more ambiguous. I will follow up with my doctors and will research data myself to better understand risk of recurrence in the other breast and the probability of ovarian cancer following a pre-menopausal breast cancer diagnosis. As my friend, Angelia, put it tonight, "The good news is that at least you have a decision now." Ahhh, yes, but I don't like making decisions. Decisions can be soooo hard to make sometimes. Just ask Bo what Friday nights at our house are like when we are trying to decide where to go out to eat!

The other good news is that I can stop beating myself up for not being proactive and having the genetic testing done earlier when preventative action (prophylactic breast removal) could have been taken prior to getting cancer. I have done a really good job of not looking back and instead focusing on the present and what needs to be done to ensure a healthy future. Nonetheless, I am human, and I have put some blame on myself for not having been more of an advocate for my own health when it came to breast cancer. And as my yoga instructor, Joy, pointed out this evening, tongue-in cheek, of course, "Why miss a good chance to flog yourself?" My thoughts exactly! You will be happy to know I stopped flogging myself on that particular issue at 3:30 p.m. today. (Ever since this experience began, I have really done a good job of reducing the self-flagellation in general, too.) Had I had the genetic testing, it would have shown I didn't have the mutations, so I would not have had my breasts removed, and I would still be where I am today (metaphysics aside). It may have even given me a false sense of security about it that may have reduced my own vigilance.

Now what is very interesting is that I did test positive for an unidentified mutation on the BRCA2 gene that has only been found in 19 other families among all the people tested by Myriad Labs. I am an anomoly! I am special. I am a special anomoly. (Dr. P. asked me if I had any mystery ancestry in my genes because 48% of those 19 families were of Latin American or Caribbean descent... Since I am from Massachusetts with French Canadian ancestry, I doubt the possibility of skeletons in this family closet.) Dr. P. couldn't offer any other information on this, but did say it doesn't necessarily mean that I was at an increased risk for breast or ovarian cancer; they just don't know what the relevance is at this point. For that reason, the mutation is being studied, and Myriad offered to test my Dad for free, if he was willing, so they would have more data. I spoke to Dad tonight, and he is going to have it done. The Myriad pamphlet states, "It is also important to note that while BRCA mutations are associated with most hereditary breast and ovarian cancers, there are other genetic causes of these cancers, too. Some are known, some have yet to be discovered." So I guess I will research the other genetic links and use what I learn to help me when I am at the point of making the DECISION.

The second test we had been awaiting results was the FSH (fish) test which indicates whether or not the cancer is the aggressive type or not. An initial test came back earlier which showed I did not have the aggressive type, but Dr. P. wanted to confirm that result with a more accurate test. The outcome of the test determines if the patient is placed on Herceptin, a drug that has shown very promising results in women with the aggressive form of cancer. The great news is that I again tested negative for the aggressive form. Woo hoo!

The next piece of positive news came when Dr. P. actually felt the tumor. She believes it feels softer and is shrinking. I thought so too, but I have been feeling it every day, so the changes are less obvious to me. I had told Bo I thought it was smaller and softer, but I wasn't sure if that was wishful thinking on my part or not. Some women respond so well to the chemo that the tumor actually disappears. It would appear that mine is responding well after the first two treatments, and Dr. P. said the surgical outcome is much better when this occurs. Big sigh of relief. She is going to schedule me for more imaging (either ultrasound or MRI) following the next treatment. If those results confirm that the tumor is shrinking, then I will continue with chemo for four more treatments before I have surgery.

So there you have it. Since the time of initial diagnosis when the lack of information painted a potentially grim picture, everything has come back very positive. I attribute that to a few things, but especially to all of the love, prayers, healing thoughts, and positive energy that is coming my way from all over the country from family, friends, clients, and complete strangers in churches and prayer circles from Florida to Massachusetts. My friend, Linda, has advised me that she has her entire church in Georgia praying for me, and knowing Linda's, ahhh... persuasiveness, I believe this. My friend, Judy, has also assured me I now have the Jewish connection taken care of. Thank you for all helping me heal, and in in ways beyond just the physical. But those reflections are best saved for another posting.

Last Blog About Hair, I Hope

Well, apparently I am way more computer savvy than I give myself credit for. (not really) I was able to get the internet access back up and running. Apparently the router wasn't fried... at least not completely. My VOIP business phone lines still aren't working though. After he spent two hours on the phone with me, a very nice Customer Service Rep from Vonage, named Anthony (the patron saint for lost causes, by the way), finally acknowledged that my situation had him totally stumped and that he was putting a new router in the mail to me. It is a proven fact. I have that effect on computers and all things related. Mother Nature may have contributed this time though with the lightning. St. Anthony wasn't sure about that.

So now I can blog again, and I will pick up where I left off. I graduated from Phase II Academy on Friday and am now certified to coach people to achieve their dreams of owning their own businesses. Right before the graduation ceremony, Max, my classmate, (the big gruff old teddy bear of a guy) handed out baseball caps to the class that had been purchased by the corporate office of The Entrepreneur Source (TES) upon his suggestion. Ours was the 46th class to go through the Academy, so the front of the caps said "46 Rocks." On the side of each cap, embroidered in pink letters, were my initials MBG. I was so touched, it brought tears to my eyes. Much hugging and kissing commenced. It was a special end to the whole TES training experience which began several months ago under very different circumstances for me. Three months ago when I entered Phase I training and first embarked upon this new business venture, life was good, and I worried about everything. Now life is still good, and I worry about almost nothing.

I spent the night with my friend Ann and her family in Hartford. I was a little nervous about exposing Ann's children (Seth, three, and Brianna, five) to my look, especially since they had seen me on Sunday when I was still sporting my usual over abundance of hair. Ann assured me that it was fine. We made a game of it though. The hats and wigs came out, and we all tried them on. Even Ann's husband, Brett, tried on a wig. Brianna, who I believe was coached a little by Ann, told me that my new hairstyle was beautiful. Even if she was coached, her sweet little face and beaming, precious smile conveyed the truth. I am beautiful to her because she loves me for me. The hair is MY issue, I know. I really didn't anticipate that it would be such a big issue for me. In a way, I derive more of my identity from my hair than I do my breasts... Well, we won't go there, and it's probably good for a few sessions on psychotherapists' couch if I were so inclined, but instead, I will just get over it. Actually, as each day passes, I do become less self-conscious about it.

I drove home Saturday. It took about ten hours, but I enjoyed the drive. I caught up on phone calls to friends and family. I think I broke the law in New Jersey because I didn't have an ear piece for my cell phone, but I felt like I had company along for most of the trip. I was very happy to see the Bo and the boys after being gone for a week, and it was a great feeling to put the suitcase away and know that I will not have to do any business travel again until next year.

Okay, I know I said I was getting over the hair thing, but you do want to know what the boys thought when they first saw me, right? Of course you know what Bo said. He told me I was beautiful and sexier than ever. Luke, our dog, displayed his usual affectionate greeting, whimpering and wagging his tail so much his whole body shakes. Cole looked the other way and asked me to go put on one of the wigs. Lance just kind of stared. Later he told me that he didn't like my hair, and on another occasion, he wouldn't stop crying until I put my hat back on my head (he needed a nap). Clay told me that I looked great. Since then, we explained to Cole that it is a good thing my hair is falling out because it means the medicine is working. He was playing with his gameboy at the time, but we saw signs that made us think the message got through anyway. Lance still doesn't like it, but he doesn't cry any more.

I have been walking around the house without a hat or wig, and we are all getting used to it together. I will be glad when my hair is completely gone because I just shed everywhere. Charity, my classmate, and I looked like chimpanzees last week during training, as she groomed me by pulling loose hair off of my clothes. Yesterday when I got in the shower, I told Clay I was trying to get some more of the loose hair to come out. Clay announced to Bo, "Mom's getting balder." The image that comes to my mind when stepping out of the shower is of earlier times, as in the neantherdal period. Wet hair is plastered everywhere! Luke and I had an ongoing competition for years over who shed more. Cole proclaimed me the victor this week. We've declared a truce for the next several months, but I will be ready to compete again soon.

So, there you have it. I promise I have come to the end of my hair tales, unless something really noteworthy occurs and I am compelled to share it.

Lightning Strike Fried My Router

Lightning struck a tree in our backyard on Friday afternoon. It apparently took out my router, modem or both, and I am unable to access the internet. Even though I managed to get the wireless network set up originally, I fear I am in over my head now. I called someone from my networking group who owns a computer company, but he may not be able to come out until Tuesday or Wednesday. I am typing this from a friend's office and must let him get back to work. Please look for more updates once my computer is up and running again.

I Left My Hair at the Cornucopia

It is another beautiful morning in Connecticut, and as I sit in my little attic room of the Cornucopia, I can see an apricot colored sun rising in the sky over the trees. I have been awake since 5:30 a.m. I am not sure what exactly caused me to evolve from a night owl to an early bird over the last month or so, but it seems to be more consistent with what nature has intended. I believe our bodies speak to us and tell us what they need in terms of rest and nutrition and activity, but most of the time, most of us just aren't listening. I have begun listening. Our bodies truly are temples since they house our spirits, and our spirits make each of us who we are.

I have had to remind myself of that this week as I watched my beautiful, thick, head of hair diminish over the last several days to a thin,wispy, inadequate covering of stray locks. It really wasn't my desire or plan to ever see my naked head, but then life has a really great way of just throwing things our way, and we deal. So I am dealing, and in the big scheme of things, it really isn't a big deal. I was telling my classmates that the hardest part has been when I look in the mirror and I don't recognize the person looking back. One of them, Max, a big gruff teddy bear of a guy, offered , "Well then, you just aren't looking deep enough." He's right, of course.

I guess the other hard part has been that the hair loss has been the first outward physical sign of the cancer. Before you couldn't look at me and tell I had cancer. Now I feel like a walking billboard for chemo treatments. It will be interesting to see how or if people react differently to me. Will they feel sorry for me? Will they avoid me or avoid the subject? Probably all of the above at some point over the next few months.

I will be departing the Cornucupia soon and heading off for my last day of training. It has been a really good week. I have reconnected with my classmates and gotten a renewed sense of commitment to my business and helping others become self-sufficient through business ownership. I am ready to get back home to the family, but first, another day of learning awaits, and I must go pick out a hat to wear.

More Great Test Results

The wireless internet access at the Cornucopia at Oldfield in Southbury, Connecticut is working just fine up in my nice cozy, little attic room. I arrived late Sunday night at this bed and breakfast after picking up my friend, Charity, at Bradley Field in Hartford. As I was hanging up my clothes in the closet, I noticed that the entire back wall of the closet contained shelves filled with book and materials on breasts, more specifically, breast feeding, but nonetheless, breasts. The owner was formerly a lactation consultant for 21 years, so breasts were her business. It was kind of ironic, and I guess served as a good reminder that I have three healthy sons, all of whom I was able to nourish as infants through breast feeding. Breasts are a beautiful thing.

Both the imaging center and the oncologist's office called me Monday to let me know the biopsy results. I can't say enough about how great the medical staff has been everywhere in terms of reaching out to me. As soon as tests results are accessible, they have been in touch with me so I haven't had to keep calling. The biopsy results on the left side came back fine, as I had suspected and of course, hoped. Nonetheless, it is a huge psychological boost to have confirmation that the cancer is contained to the right side.

Remember my multi gate acquisition aka the MUGA? Well, it showed that my heart is operating at 73%, and normal would be about 60%, so I am in awesome shape to withstand the chemo. Must have been all that walking on the treadmill...

I am still feeling so good physically. I have been listening to my hypnosis tape every night before I go to sleep, and it reinforces the message about being healthy and feeling healthy, so apparently my subconscious is listening to that part. My subconscious, however, has ignored the healthy hair message. My hair is coming out a lot less gracefully now. If I pull a comb through my hair, the result is as if I used thinning shears. I believe I have probably lost what would be a head's worth of hair on most people, but my hair is so thick, it isn't really noticeable yet.

Well, it is a beautiful day in Connecticut, and I am looking forward to all the day has to offer. May yours be the same.

Still Feeling Fine, but the Hair...

I am two days into my second chemo treatment, and I feel really good. In fact, if I hadn't personally experienced three hours worth of toxic chemicals dripping into my body, I wouldn't know it from how I feel. Now how I look, specifically in the the hair category, well that's a different story. I had heard it would start falling out about two weeks after my first treatment, and sure enough, it's starting to go, but quite gracefully so far. If just run my fingers through my hair, several strands come out each time. But you know what? It's okay because that means the chemo is working. Chemo works by killing fast growing cells, which cancer cells are. Our bodies, however, have other rapidly dividing cells, like our hair, that aren't immune to the effects of the chemo. While some chemo drugs do not cause hair loss, the ones they administer to breast cancer patients, pretty much universally do.

Luckily, I had my appointment yesterday, with the Hat Trader. Suzy is a wonderful woman. She had breast cancer several years ago and now collects hats, wigs, and scarves to loan out to women undergoing chemotherapy. She had quite a collection, and I left with four wigs and about 20 hats and scarves. My sister-in-law, JoLynn, accompanied me, and we had a lot of fun trying on the hats. They were very helpful in determining my best hat look. It appears that wide brim is very flattering, while the turban look is most definitely out. JoLynn is planning on having a hat party for me in July. Everyone wears a hat and brings a hat.

Before scooting home for my date night with Bo, JoLynn and I went by Fantastic Sam's so that I could get my hair cut again. I got it cut very short several weeks ago, but I went ahead and got it cut super short. That will make it easier as it thins. Bo will appreciate the drains not clogging up, and for some reason, short strands falling out aren't quite as dramatic as longer short strands falling out.... The sytlist was great, and her name was Angel. I took that as a very positive sign.

We also went by the doctor's office for my shot of Neulasta, the white blood cell promoting drug. The nurse checked for my biopsy results from the left breast, but they weren't in the computer yet. I should know something on Monday. At this point, it won't have any impact on the treatment plan, but it sure would be reassuring to know that the cancer is confined to the right side.

I am feeling well enough to go to Phase II training for my new business next week. Not to mention, for the first time in a month, I have no medical appointments or procedures scheduled for next week. That's progress! I spent nearly two weeks with the seven other participants earlier in the year at Phase I training, so I will be among friends. If I don't have any postings next week, it will only be because of inaccessbility to the internet. I am sharing a suite in a bed and breakfast with a classmate, Charity. It will be very pleasant, but I am not sure about the computer access there.

My friend, Betty, drove to Williamsburg from Richmond this afternoon, and we ate lunch outside at my favorite restaurant in Colonial Williamsburg, the Trellis. It was a beautiful day, and we enjoyed strolling through through the colonial area. We have been doing that together for the last 20 years that we have been friends. She said she likes my new style better than any haircut she has ever seen on me! Well that is good, because it sure won't take long to achieve this look again once my hair starts coming back in later this year!

I have to admit that it is very disconcerting to watch your hair start to fall out. While I wouldn't say I have been in a state of denial about my situation, the hair loss certainly reinforces the reality of it, even more than the many medical procedures I have been undergoing. Well, as I mentioned earlier, it means the chemo is working, and my hair will be back.

A Day of Healing Activities

My first appointment of the day was with Andi, the hypnotist. This was my first experience being hypnotized, which is really just being put into a deep state of relaxation (alpha and theta brain frequency.) When you are in this state, you are better able to communicate with your subconscious mind about important things like healing and feeling good. She walked me through the whole process of getting my body into a relaxed state, and taped the session. I have a half hour tape to listen to each day. I will let you know how it ends up working for me, but so far, I am pleased.

My second appointment of the day was for my second chemo treatment. I have a total of eight, so two down and six to go. Woo hoo!!! The first four treatments involve two different drugs, adriomycin and cytoxin and will occur every two weeks. The last four treatments will be taxotere, and I will receive that treatment every three weeks. (My spelling of the drugs, and possibly even other words, may be slightly off, but I haven't been able to figure out how to use spell check on this blog site. Oh well. Part of my personal therapy program has been to stop worrying about everything being perfect all of the time. I hope you can accept my typos and whatever other ways my rejection of perfection manifests itself.)

This particular protocol of drugs and timing has been found to be most effective in treating my type of cancer, based on lots and lots of historical data. I am lucky to have breast cancer in the year 2006 because there is so much more data available, and there have been tremendous advances. It is not a one size fits all approach to treating breast cancer. The treatment is really customized to the type of breast cancer a woman has and other individual factors at play.

Again, Bo and I were there for over three hours. That's how long it takes for the various I.V. bags to drip. It really is a good excuse to sit though, since I actually don't have a choice. That's not a bad thing since being a Mom of three young boys limits my sitting time anyway. We watched another movie. This time it was Austin Powers, which we hadn't seen in years. I am definitely gravitating toward comedies these days. Call me an intellectual/artistic lightweight in my movie going habits, but I've never been much for the intense drama and conflict type films anyway. These days, especially, I really just want to laugh and feel good.

I am hoping the side effects of this treatment will be like the last treatment - very minimal. It's been almost ten hours since it begand, and so far so good. I receive anti-nausea medicine in the I.V. Additionally, I take anti-nausea pills for the first three days following the treatment. Last time I didn't have much of an appetite, but I never felt sick. I also felt just the slightest bit tired, but I think tired for me, is normal for most people, so I just started to go to bed a little earlier each night, like normal people.

My white blood cell count was very high, due to the shot of Neulasta I receive every two weeks. A high white blood cell count is a good thing because it means my immune system is functioning well. That meant I got to eat raw unpeeled fruit and vegetables today without worrying about succumbing to pesky parasites. I ate a whole quart of strawberries tonight!

My last structured healing activity today was yoga. Unlike the last time, the blackboard's announcement of beginning yoga actually corresponded to the level of the class. Last week I was supposed to be in beginning yoga but all of the advanced students showed up, and I unknowingly participated in an advanced class. What a difference between the two classes. Tonight I actually left feeling very relaxed. The instructor was a woman named Joy, and I really liked her. She was very helpful as I learned the positions and was very soothing. She actually works one-on-one doing yoga with cancer patients and knows the value it can provide.

Joy also has a family background of breast cancer. Her mother was also diagnosed pre-menopausal at the age of 42. Joy is 44. I asked her what she was doing in terms of "surveillance", and she said her doctor has her going for mammograms every six months. I was going every year. The mammogram I had on March 21, 2006 showed no abnormalities. I found the tumor myself in early May and was diagnosed on May 15, 2006, less than two months later, with breast cancer. The tumor was there in March. It may have even been there last year when I had my mammogram. The mammogram didn't detect it. I have learned a lot since then, and I will write about that at another time, but I have taken it upon myself to help educate women that for many of us, mammograms just don't cut it.

A Day of Tropical Storms and More Tests

It was another beautiful day in Williamsburg, just very, very wet. We received the remnants of Alberto during the night and throughout the day.

Today I went for yet another scan. This one was called a MUGA, and for all of us medical novices, that is simply the Multiple Gated Acquisition. Oh yes, that test, of course, the multiple gated acquisition. Actually it can be described best as a heart efficiency test. It required more radioactive "stuff" to be injected into my veins. (The syringe in the lead box gave it away, not to mention those darling little yellow radioactive signs everywhere again.) Like the other scanning machines, this too involved a very large piece equipment, but it was quiet, and efficient, and once again did not require me to disrobe. It captured images of red blood cells circulating about my heart. Some of the chemo drugs can damage the heart muscle, and these scans will monitor the condition of my heart.

Then it was a race across town (while eating lunch in the car) for my next scheduled appearance which happened to be at the imaging center. I had an ultrasound on Monday to locate the "areas of suspicion" detected in the MRI. Today, a biopsy of the areas was done. Dr. D., the radiologist, declared one to be a cyst. She took core biopsies of the other one, and I should have the results by the end of the week. I am confident that it is not cancer. I asked her how many women get cancer on both sides, and she indicated about 5%. It is more common with lobular cancer, and I have infiltrating ductile cancer.

The staff at the imaging center has been really wonderful. Dr. D. has patiently answered my many questions and concerns and has been so thorough with my care. The techs have all been so warm and concerned and attentive. They have literally held my hand, supplied me with tissues, consoled me, and encouraged me. One of them reminded me that if I end up having a double mastectomy, that I will never have to submit to another mammogram! Hmmm... I never quite thought about it that way, but you gotta keep focusing on the positive. I told them I would come back and visit anyway.

Bryan (my sister's ex-husband but more like my big brother), left today after having spent five days with us. We enjoyed the visit, and I think he went home feeling very relieved to see that I really am doing well, and that it is pretty much business as usual at the Gibson household. We welcome any and all visitors, but I need to let you know, Bryan cleaned windows while he was here. The bar has been set, but it can be raised.

About the Rest of the Family

Facing a life threatening illness certainly has a profound impact on the individual, but it also affects the entire family (and everyone close to the person). Many people have been asking me how Bo and the kids are doing so I thought I would write about someone other than myself for a refreshing change.

It will surprise no one that Bo, who has always been a pillar of strength for me, who has supported everything I have ever done or wanted to do, who has loved everything little thing about me, imperfections and all, is securing his nomination for sainthood. He was holding my hand when the radioligist told me I had cancer, and I know he will hold my hand forever. He has accompanied me to every medical appointment or procedure and will continue to do so. He wears a pink breast cancer awareness wristband that he plans to "sport" until I am cancer free. When I went for my first chemo treatment, he confidently announced, "This is the beginning of the end of the cancer." He has said that our first and only priority this year is to get me well. (Hmmm... I wonder if that means he will forego deerhunting this fall.)

Bo came into my life, via my front yard and wielding a weedeater, during the last year of my Mom's life. I didn't think I needed anyone, we "independent" women never think we do, but Someone knew better. Bo helped me in so many ways before, during, and after my Mom's own courageous struggle with breast cancer. I was grateful that my Mom was able to see me genuinely happy for probably the first time in my entire life, and that she died knowing that her daughter was loved deeply by a very good and kind man. I believed at the time that Bo was heaven sent, and I know it now to be true. I cannot imagine being on this journey without him, but the beautiful thing is, I don't have to imagine it. In sickness and in health, Bo, is by my side.

Bo is holding up very well. We talk about everything together, and he also has close friends with whom he is able to share his feelings. I have encouraged him to maintain all his activities and to continue plans to go bear hunting next spring in Alberta, Canada. One of the many positive things that will come from this cancer experience will be an even stronger marriage, and for that, I am grateful.

We told Clay (6) and Cole (7) that I have breast cancer and that I will get better. Lance (3 later this month) doesn't understand what is happening but is definitely aware of the changed dynamics. He has been left with family and friends a lot during the last few weeks while Bo and I have scurried from one medical appointment to another. He has become quite clingy and will not leave my side when he has any choice in the matter.

Cole's biggest concern is that I am going to lose my hair. For some reason, he doesn't want that to happen even though I told him that Mom and Dad would now match. Clay pulled out his guitar one evening, and while casually seated on the bed, strummed a song for me. It had several lines to it, but all I remember is "My Mom has breast cancer, and her hair is going to fall out." If their most dramatic memory from the upcoming year is seeing my bare head, I will be so happy!

A new friend, Peggy, a breast cancer survivor with whom a client put me in touch, sent a wig and an assortment of bandanas to me last week. It was a nice cranial prosthesis, but too light for my coloring. When Bo put it on, Lance walked into the kitchen and did a double take, and Luke, our white lab, went into defensive mode. It was the first time I had ever really seen Bo with hair, and aside from the surfer dude image (or maybe because of the surfer dude image), it looked way better on him than me! Truth be told, it was actually kind of cute and sexy! Clay and Lance both tried it on, so I was able to get a glimpse of what a little Gibson girl may have looked like. Cole, as much as we cajoled, refused to submit to the wig wearing antics, but we all laughed a lot that morning. I have pictures!

So all in all, the entire Gibson family is doing really well. Love and laughter will see us through.

Another Doctor's Appointment

Today, Bo and I met another member of my recently assembled medical team, the radiation oncologist. Dr. G. was quite a treat to meet, and even though she won't be my regular radiation oncologist (he was out of the office this week), she reviewed my history and discussed the proposed treatment with me. There are still several missing pieces of the puzzle with my situation, so even though chemo has begun, some of the proposed treatment is subject to change based on test results. In that regard, she didn't tell me anything I hadn't heard before, but I will summarize the main points below.

What we do know:

I have a clinical diagnosis of Stage IIB breast cancer - this is still considered early stages of breast cancer. It means my tumor is between 2 -5 centimeters with metastatic involvement of ipsilateral (same side as the breast cancer) axillary lymph nodes (moveable) and no distant metastasis. In my initial biopsy, only one swollen lymph node was found, and it did turn out to be cancerous.

The pathology staging of the cancer can only be done after surgery when the lymph nodes are removed and a biopsy completed, but the CT/PET scan did not indicate lymph node involvement, so I am hopeful that it didn't spread beyond that one that showed up in the initial biopsy. (and yes, one of my questions is - if it showed up in the biopsy with cancer, why didn't it show up in the CT/PET scan? Donna, the nurse practicioner told me on Monday that the lymph node is so small, the fine needle aspiration that was performed during the biopsy may have removed all of the cancer cells.... That question is still on my list for the doctor though.)

The tumor is estrogen receptor positive, which means it is more like normal breast tissue, and that, I am told, is a good thing. I believe this means it should be more responsive to treatment. It would be even better if it were progesterone receptor positive also, and it isn't, but one out of two isn't bad.

What we don't know and are waiting to find out:

The initial pathology results showed the tumor was HER2/NEU negative, but the oncologist requested a second, more accurate test, called a FISH test, to confirm this finding. We want the initial findings confirmed because HER2/NEU negative means it is a less agressive form of cancer. I ask for this test result everytime I am on the phone with someone who has access to my records, but so far, the results are still pending.

Due to my family history (both my grandmother and mother were also diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 40), there is a strong likelihood that I am genetically predisposed to breast cancer. They are currently doing the genetic testing to determine if this is the case. So, why does that matter now that I actually have it? Well, if I do have the gene, the most aggressive form of treatment for me would include, in addition to a mastectomy on the right side where the cancer is, a prophylactic removal of the left breast. It would also include prophylactic removal of my ovaries. I have a ton of questions on that, so more to come. They told me it would take a couple of weeks to get those results back.

The ultrasound and biopsy of the "area of suspicion" in the left breast that showed up in last week's MRI is scheduled for this coming Monday. I am confident that the results will be favorable and that we are just dealing with the one tumor on the right side, but we will know for sure by the middle of next week.

Dr. G. discussed the radiation process with us. It is generally done four weeks after surgical recovery. I will need to go five days a week for 6 to 6 1/2 weeks. The side effects are pretty much limited to fatigue. In the past, radiation was performed on women who had four or more lymph nodes involved, but two very large clinical studies showed a benefit to post-mastectomy radiation in women with any lymph node involvement. I am all for that then!

It has now been almost a week since my initial chemo treatment, and I am happy to report that I still feel pretty darn good and mostly "normal". I actually went to my first ever yoga class tonight. My instructor, Joseph, is 51 and claims to have the flexibility of his 18 year old daughter. By some of the moves he was doing, I believe him. It was supposed to be a beginner's class - at least that is what the chalkboard said. I felt like I kept up pretty well, but I kept waiting for relaxation mode to kick in. All that stretching and bending and breathing was hard work! After class, Joseph confessed that he customizes the class to his audience, and tonight, all of his advanced students showed up! I will probably be feeling it in the morning!

More Tests to Come

Bo and I drove down to Newport News today to meet with Donna, the nurse practicioner, so that she could take another look at the porta-cath site and to review last week's test results with us. Unfortunately, Dr. H. was tied up in a meeting, and Donna wasn't able to answer some of my questions about the MRI and PET/CT scan. Overall, of course, the news is very positive because the PET/CT scan didn't detect any metasteses and also didn't detect lymph node involvement. The only ambiguous finding was the suspicious area in the left breast, and Donna was going to discuss that with Dr. H. and get back to me. She called this afternoon and said that Dr. H. wants to go ahead and have biopsy done on the left side so that we know exactly what we are dealing with. Amen! Dr. H. is very thorough, and I really appreciate that about him. So, I am scheduled for my ultrasound and another biopsy next week. In the meantime, I keep adding questions to my list.

I also met with a volunteer representative, Terry, from the Look Good...Feel Better Program. (Terry is also in my networking group, and she had an experience a couple years ago with a pre-cancerous tumor in her breast.) This is a program sponsored by the American Cancer Society to help women with their appearance during chemo treatment. I received a large bag of makeup and lots of tips on how to tie scarves. Terry was doing all these little neat tricks behind her back, creating beautiful rosettes, and weaving in color coordinated scarfs among the folds. I told Terry to just plan on coming to my house each morning because I have never had scarf tying aptitude skills and doubt I will get them now. Perhaps Bo can learn... or perhaps I will just use headwear that only requires one action - place on head. I was also able to try on a variety of wigs, and I can tell you if there ever was a doubt, I was not meant to be a blonde.

I set up an appointment with a woman known as "The Hat Trader." She lives inWilliamsburg and is a breast cancer survivor. She collects hats, scarves, wigs, etc. and loans them to women undergoing chemotherapy. She and her husband depart tomorrow on a cruise to Alaska, so I won't be able to see her until a week from Friday, but I should still have hair by then. If not, my great friends, the Todisco's, sent me a NYPD cap in the mail today. It may not have rosettes, but it's got attitude!

Great News!!!

Today I received the best news I have heard in the last three weeks since this medical drama began for me. The MRI, CT, and PET scan results came back today. One of the nurse practicioners from the surgeon's office, Donna, was checking the computer throughout the day for me, and mercifully called this afternoon so that I wouldn't have to wonder all weekend. The MRI, of course, confirmed cancer in the right breast. There was a area of suspician on the left side that may or may not be cancer. They had performed a biopsy of several sites and a lymph node on the left side two weeks ago and everything came back normal, so it may very well be nothing. If it is cancer, the chemo will take care of it.

The absolute best news was that the CT and PET scans came back fine which means the cancer has not spread to other organs. Hallelujah! I literally cried with joy and immediately called my Dad and brothers and sister (and as many other friends and family members I could fit in this evening) to share the good news. Now, if you had told me a month ago that I would be relieved to only have breast cancer with lymph node involvement, I would have called you all kinds of names. Now, when put in perspective, compared to what I could be dealing with, I am thrilled! Thanks to all of you who have kept me in your thoughts and prayers during this time, and please keep them coming. I know what I have is very serious, and I am facing five months of chemo, then surgery, and then radiation, but this news makes the battle easier. I will meet with Donna on Monday to discuss the results in detail.

On a less medical, more.... hmmm.... well, new-agey kind of note... I had a consultation with a hypnotist today. Her name is Andi, and I met her in my networking group or otherwise, I probably wouldn't have even thought of hypnosis. Even if I had thought of it, I wouldn't have known what to do with the thought, but there she was, and I don't believe in accidental encounters. Andi gave me a brief history of hypnosis, and "new-agey", besides not even being a word, is also not an accurate descriptor. Hypnosis actually has been around for more than a hundred years and was first recognized as being practiced by a guy named Mesmer (as in mesmerized). It has been recognized as having a legitimate medical application but has come in and out of accepted medical use for a variety of reasons, none related to the efficacy of hypnosis. It is beginning to come back into favor.

Now those of you who know me well probably don't have a hard time believing that I just cannot relax. (Although, you may have a hard time believing that I am finally admitting it and am committed to doing something about it!) Well, I have been very anxious lately. The anxiety began earlier this year with my new business, but it has now obviously been replaced with a different anxiety. I figure I have enough foreign "stuff" entering my body these days, so if I can learn to relax naturally, then I don't have to rely on more chemicals. Andi needs a release from my doctor in order to work with me because of my medical condition, but I don't think that will be a problem. My surgeon, Dr. H, has a pretty holistic approach to healing. Andi is going to be able to help me sleep better, meditate, use visualization techniques, and just plain relax. For those of you have come to know and love, or just plain endure, my driven personality, I promise a new and improved me; although, I am not sure what that looks like yet.

By the way, I have not experienced any side effects from the chemo yet that I can tell, and I feel "normal." I have been so out of sorts lately, that I am not exactly sure what "normal" feels like anymore, but I do feel the same way today that I felt before the chemo, so that's normal for now. When I went to receive my shot of Neulasta this afternoon, the nurse, Olivia, told me I could expect my hair to fall out in the next two to three weeks, so I need to get a move on with finding my "cranial prosthesis." I, too, was blissfully unaware of this medical terminology until recently, but cranial prosthesis is a highly techical medical term that when written on a prescription pad and signed by a member of the medical community, may compel insurance companies to pay for a wig.

One last thing before I sign off, the shot of Neulasta is administered 24 hours after the chemo is given and promotes growth of white blood cells. That is a good thing - especially since it represents the last time I am poked, probed, or pricked this week! Yes, a very good thing.

First Real Posting

This posting will be longer than I plan in the future, just because there was a lot of activity this week, and I am just now getting around to writing everything out.

I worked on Tuesday and managed to squeeze in a radical new hair cut. My hair is now the shortest it has been in many years. Bo says it makes me look younger, but you know, Bo. He always says the right thing. I cut it in anticipation of losing it by the end of the month. My sister-in-law, JoLynn, is going to look for wigs with me next week. I always wondered what it was like to be a blonde... but I am sure my more traditional side will win out, and dark brunette, I will remain.

Wednesday, I ended up at an impromptu visit with the nurse practicioner, Anna, at the surgeon's office in Newport News. They surgically implanted the porta-cath in my left chest (for receiving chemo treatments, taking blood, giving medication, etc.) last Friday. It had grown tender and swollen overnight, and sure enough, I had a hematoma where blood had leaked into the cavity. They just drew off the blood and sent me on my way. (Anna was just diagnosed with breast cancer herself about six weeks ago and is also undergoing chemo. She is very upbeat and very inspirational.)

It was back to Williamsburg where I experienced my first MRI. They scanned both breasts - it is part of the staging tests. I ask lots of questions and got a brief physics lesson in the process. Basically, what I learned is that this big monstrous piece of claustrophobic equipment that emits very louds noises for extended periods of time somehow moves the hydrogen around in my body in order to give the radiologist a good image of the inside of my breasts. Test results will be in early next week.

I also went to the oncologist's office for my "chemo training." On the way to that appointment, I stopped to grab a sandwich at Subway, and honest to God, this really happened. I asked for a turkey sub on wheat with all the vegetables they could possibly put on it. The young guy behind the counter said, "Oh, so you are trying to prevent cancer?" I paused, trying to find just the right response, and I finally said, "No, it's too late for that. Now, I am just trying to beat it!" I have decided in the future not to blurt that information out to strangers because that poor guy probably kicked himself all day, and that is absolutely not what I intended - really! I bet he never makes that comment again though...

So, back to chemo training. The nurse, Gloria, spent an hour with me going over the possible side effects. I decided to consider that information in the same way I consider the one page of side effects you get from the pharmacist whenever you get a prescription filled. It happens to some people but not all people, and I intend to feel as good as I possibly can. Besides, the drugs they give you for side effects now have come a long way. The only disappointing news was that I shouldn't eat any raw fruit or vegetables that can't be peeled. What? In the summer - season of bounty? They don't want me to get parasites, and when you put it that way, I don't either, so what's five months of eating cooked unpeelable fruits and veggies? No biggie. Now I probably won't be back to Subway any time soon either for that turkey and veggie sub.

Today, I went down to the hospital in Hampton for a CT scan and PET scan. For the CT scan I had to drink barium, a big styrofoam cup of barium. I told the receptionist it would taste better if mixed in a blender with ice and presented with a little umbrella upon serving. She laughed, but I don't believe my suggestion will go anywhere. I asked if they adjust for body size, and they actually don't which doesn't make sense to me. Next time, I am requesting a smaller cup, since I am down to about 112 pounds and don't think it is good for me to absorb the same amount of barium as people twice my weight.

I went outside to the parking lot to what looked like a big book mobile, but it was actually a imaging lab on wheels which contained another monstrous, claustrophobic piece of equipment. First, I received an IV with radioactive sugar. Before they administered this stuff (for lack of a better word) to me, they removed it from a lead box in a safe with signs screaming "Radioactive" everywhere. Hmmm... Then the nurse, Frances, left the room and said she was closing the door to protect herself from the radioactivity. Hmmmm.... All in the name of my future health, I guess. (and by the way, I am not claustrophobic, and none of the scans has been at all uncomfortable.) Also, Frances' Mom is currently undergoing biopsies and other tests for breast cancer - her results are still inconclusive.

The difference between the MRI and the CT scan and Pet scan were the sound effects. The CT and Pet scan were mercifully quiet, and I actually got to hear the music playing in the room. Also, the CT, PET scan machine took me for a little ride. The "bed" would automatically move me through the cylinder as the machine scanned different parts of my body. Finally, for this procedure, I was actually able to keep my clothes on too, which these days, is a good thing!

Again, I asked a lot of questions. The PET scan can show cancer at the cellular level, so they will be able to find out exactly where the cancer is in my body - eyes to thighs, anyway. The CT scan will also pick up things that shouldn't be there.

Then it was back to the surgeon's office so they could check the porta-cath again. I was good to go, so we quickly headed back to Williamsburg for my first chemo treatment. Bo was with me. We were there for about three hours. They had a nice reclining chair for me, and we actually watched a movie we hadn't seen before, a remake of The In-Laws, and ate Taco Bell. The movie was cute and pretty funny. I would give it three stars. It was the best quiet time Bo and I have been able to have for the last several weeks! I feel fine. We all went for a walk tonight. I am calling it a day and will write again when I have more updates.