Too Much Pink

I was going to write about my visit to the plastic surgeon last Wednesday, but that can wait. Two things happened last week that prompted me to write the following instead:


I am aware of it now, more than ever. I see pink everywhere I go. Pink ribbons printed on Virginia license plates, pink metallic ribbons affixed to cars, pink plastic bracelets, pink ribbon jewelry, pink ribbon decorative flags in yards, etc. Every time I see pink, it represents someone who has fought/is fighting breast cancer or someone who knows and supports someone who has fought/is fighting breast cancer. There is too much pink.

When I first started writing this blog, I tried to mention the people I encountered who either personally experienced breast cancer or knew someone who had. One of Bo's customers had it. Another customer lost a sister to the disease. My friend's sister-in-law is battling it. Another friend's neighbor is battling it. My cousin's colleague is battling it. My colleague's wife had it. Two former colleagues from Social Services had it. A teacher from my sons' school had it last year. A young woman, apparently noticing my absence of hair under my now signature ball cap, approached me while I was shopping one afternoon to share her story of breast cancer and to offer her prayers for me. I gave up trying to include all these and the many more references in the blog. There is too much pink.

Last Tuesday, I called my buddy Max, the classmate from The Entrepreneur Source who arranged for the caps with my initials in pink to be passed out to our academy class back in June. I was calling to check in and to ask his guidance with a client. He sounded pleased to hear from me and we spoke briefly about business. He said things have slowed down for him lately and then proceeded to tell me that his wife had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. There is too much pink.

On Friday, I had a touching encounter at Pizza Hut, of all places, and I submitted the story to our local paper which has a very popular feature called "The Last Word." Readers are invited to (anonymously) share their thoughts on any topic. It is quite entertaining and offers interesting insights into others' perspectives on living in the "burg" and life in general. Below is my submission:

"My friend and I were enjoying lunch at Pizza Hut with our three year old sons when one of the waitresses walked over and said, “Someone wants to buy your lunch,” and she pointed out a man who was dining alone. My first reaction was to say that we appreciated the offer but that it wasn’t necessary, and she relayed this message to him. I reconsidered and went over to speak to him. I explained that I have a hard time letting people do nice things for me but that if he wanted to buy us lunch, we would really appreciate it. He said he wanted to do something to help me with “the fight.” (I was wearing a baseball cap with nothing underneath, and he assumed, correctly, that I was undergoing chemotherapy.) He asked about the two boys at the table and said that his grandchildren kept his wife going during her five year fight with breast cancer. He said he was still getting over her loss. I hugged him tight and told him I would keep him in my prayers. He bought our lunch. We were two strangers brought together for a brief, but profound moment by a common thread – breast cancer. He got into a pickup truck without a front license plate (indicating he is not from Virginia), so I don’t think he will ever read this, but I wanted to share the story. Life is full of opportunities to connect with others in simple, brief, but meaningful ways. I thank that gentleman for reaching out and touching my life." There is too much pink.

The American Cancer Society reports that over 200,000 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year in this country. That means that every three minutes, a woman will hear the life-altering words, "You have breast cancer." Over 40,000 women will die this year die from breast cancer. While I have seen various statistics, most frequently cited is that one in nine women will have breast cancer during their lifetime. There is too much pink.

The month of October signifies the arrival of fall and it's traditional palette of reds, yellows, and oranges, but since October is also National Breast Cancer Awareness month, we can expect to see a lot of pink too. The fact that pink represents awareness is a positive thing. There will be a flood of information coming from a multitude of sources, and we will also see many products marketed where proceeds of the sales will benefit breast cancer organizations. The effort is certainly there to wipe out this disease, but until a cure is found, early detection is key. If I could ask you to do just one thing, it would be: Women, please perform your monthly breast exam and schedule regular mammograms. Women and men, please encourage the women you know to take those actions. And iff a woman has a family history, she should consult with an oncologist and a genetic counselor. Let's make pink nothing more than a pretty color!

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

When I spoke with Dr. P last week, I mentioned that I was anxious to see a dermatologist due to my fair skin and a history of blistering sunburns from when I was child hanging out at the neighborhood pool all day, every day during the summers. It hasn't been that long ago, but I don't believe they made sunscreen back in the 70s. I have vague memories of the Coppertone billboard with a dog pulling down the back of a little girl's bikini, but I seriously doubt that product was a broad spectrum, high SPF sunblock like what is available today, if it even was any type of sunscreen at all. There certainly wasn't the awareness of the dangers of sun exposure, and now we have the whole ozone depletion thing contributing to the problem too...

When I was a teenager, I remember broiling under the sun during its most intense hours, baby oil glistening on my pale skin. When I turned 19 or 20, I finally realized that no matter how extreme my attempts to obtain a bronzed skin tone, I would never exceed ivory. Since then, I have tried to be careful in limiting sun exposure. Nonetheless, I am a greater risk than the general population due to my history and fair skin.

I had actually brought this concern up a couple of months ago when I first began seeing Dr. P, and she suggested we wait until I got through the breast cancer treatment. "Yes," I had agreed at that time, "Let's deal with one cancer at a time." I am not becoming a hypochondriac, I just want to take the appropriate actions to safeguard my health. As you can imagine, early detection is very important to me these days.

Last week, I showed her a little spot on my upper lip that wasn't healing. She said it was most likely a solar keratosis, and she went ahead set up an appointment for me with a dermatologist. I went to the dermatologist on Monday, and sure enough, the spot on my lip was an actinic keratosis. The dermatologist froze it off because left untreated, it could have turned into squamous cell carcinoma. He did check the rest of my body, and I told him to take a really good look at my scalp while he could because it would soon be covered with hair again - permanently. He found no suspicious areas there or anyhere else on my body. He asked, out of curiousity I guess, if the loose skin on my abdomen was due to weight loss as a result of the cancer. "No," I said. "That would be due to three babies." Other than that forgiveable faux pas, I liked him and will add him to my stable of doctors. I need to return in three weeks for a follow up.

Over the last few months, I have had lots of practice at reducing whatever tendencies I have had towards vanity. Today, I attended a networking luncheon with a group of women I had never met before. Not only did I show up obviously bald under my hat, I was also sporting a huge blister on my upper lip (the former site of the actinic keratosis). You know what? I am actually beyond self-conscious now, and I mostly forget that I look different on the outside than I used to. I just act the same way I always have towards people, and in return, I get the same response I always have. It has been a tremendous learning and growth opportunity for me and is very freeing. That being said, I will be very happy when I return to my former look. I said I was reducing my tendencies towards vanity, not eliminating!

Seven Down, One to Go

Yesterday was my seventh chemo treatment. You can't imagine how good it feels to know I only have to undergo one more treatment. Even though the effects have been minimal, I am anxious to drop this routine from my everyday life, to have the toxic chemicals out of my body for good, and to be able to move on to the next stage.

I didn't sleep very well on Tuesday night, and it finally dawned on me that I develop insomnia around the time of the chemo sessions. I wake up at 3:00 a.m. and am unable to go back to sleep usually until dawn, and by then it is time to get up. I know I can be a little slow to connect the dots at times, but I still can't believe it took seven sessions for me to figure it out. The only constant has been one of the anti-nausea drugs, a steroid. (That's what I get for not reading the pamphlets describing the side effects!) Both Gloria and Dr. P confirmed it was the "roids" causing the insomnia, and Dr. P said it was okay if I didn't take the drug anymore.

I had an appointment with Dr. P during this chemo session. As usual, she spent quite a bit of time talking with me and Bo. She said she supported my decision to have a double mastectomy, especially in light of my family history. Even though I don't have the known genetic marker, I am still at increased risk for it coming back in the "contra-lateral" breast. She said a double mastectomy would eliminate the need to monitor the remaining breast through mammograms and ultrasounds. Amen to that; although, I will miss my new friends at the Women's Imaging Center.

She asked me what I planned to do regarding reconstruction, and I told her that I hadn't made a decision yet. She thought my options were limited due to my size. I guess there are generally two options: implants or using abdominal tissue. She observed that I don't have any extra abdominal tissue. I told her I could eat more to increase the abdominal tissue. (I have also had several offers from friends since to use their spare tissue!) She offered to set up a consultation with a plastic surgeon so I could at least get some information. She provided the name of one surgeon who she said "makes the best breasts in Williamsburg." If that is not a glowing endorsement, I don't know what is! I have an appointment scheduled with this awesome breast creator next Wednesday.

I told her that I wasn't necessarily considering reconstruction from a vanity standpoint. As I have said before, breasts have never been a huge part of my identity because mine just aren't that noticeable to begin with, and they are not one of the physical attributes I have chosen to play up. It is just that if I don't have the reconstruction surgery, I am not sure that I can stand to look at the scars in the mirror every day. I remember my Mom's scars, and they were so disfiguring.

Dr. P said that it is easier to monitor the chest wall for a recurrence if I don't have reconstruction. Wait just one minute. You mean to say that even after I remove the breast tissue, the breast cancer can still return locally? Dr. P's answer was that yes, it could return to the chest wall, and that is one of the reasons that I will receive radiation, to reduce the likelihood of any cancer cells remaining after the surgery. So, I guess I really do need to get more information on the pros and cons of reconstruction and evaluate the risks accordingly.

I asked her once I have completed all of the steps of my treatment plan, what happens next? She said that I will be put on Tamoxifen to reduce the risk of recurrence. Breast cancer is only curable the first time you get it, so you definitely do not want it to come back. I will also be monitored regularly, the extent of that monitoring to be discussed when the time comes. It is kind of weird to think I have one chance to beat this thing, but in reality, that doesn't put me any closer to mortality than anyone else. It is just puts the concept of mortality more in my face and a part of my consciousness than it is for most people.

Her guidance from the very beginning has been to treat the cancer as aggressively as possible, and then to live my life. She's right. The rest is out of my control, and I don't want to spend the rest of my life, however long that may be, worrying that it may come back. In fact, I intend to spend the rest of my life affirming that I am healthy and that is isn't ever coming back. I intend to live the rest of my life with a greater appreciation of life than if I hadn't experienced cancer. There are too many valuable lessons, too many positive experiences and outcomes to be gained from this journey for me to ever go back to the way life was before cancer. (If I even could... I wonder if anyone can do that...) I want to use the experience to continue creating positive change as my life moves forward. Okay, time to get off the soap box.

After answering all of my questions, Dr. P conducted a physical exam and said that the tumor was 1,000 times better than when I originally "presented". She believes it is smaller than the last time she felt it too, and if she didn't know differently, she would think that I just had fibrocystic changes going on in the breast. (I have been not been able to detect a change lately and was actually imagining it feeling bigger. That's why I will be so happy to have this thing removed once and for all so I can stop obsessing over it once and for all!)

She also said that it is quite possible that some of what we are feeling is fibrous tissue (I think is what she called it) that may now be surrounding the tumor, so the tumor may even be much smaller than what we are feeling. She said she couldn't wait to see the "path" report on it following surgery. Me too! She wasn't even able to find the one swollen lymph node under my arm that she originally described as the size of a lima bean, and then as the size of a pencil eraser, and now I guess, is so small it defies detection and description. She also said that my breezing through the chemo in is probably a good sign that the cancer has not spread undetected to other parts of my body.

I asked her if she felt that we had really pursued the best course of action by delaying the surgery and continuing the chemo, since at one point, she had been so adamant about having the surgery. (Not that we could go back and change anything now, but I wanted to know her honest opinion, and she respected my need to process through all of this stuff.) She said that once she saw a reaction to the chemo, she felt very comfortable continuing the chemo and is glad that I did get the Taxotere up front. Her affirmation was what I had been looking for and what I needed to hear.

All in all, it was a very positive and encouraging appointment, (other than the unpleasant recurrence part of the conversation) and I walked out feeling better than when I had walked in. I went back to the office this afternoon for my $7,000 shot. I can feel my white blood cells increasing as I write this. Since the "roids" should be out of my system by now, I am looking forward to a insomnia-free night.

Peach Fuzz

We survived the first week of school. All of the boys did really well, and we didn't have any adjustment issues with any of them this year. It was actually a very short week since Labor Day was Monday, Tuesday was half a day, and school was cancelled on Friday. It turns out that a water main burst in James City County on Wednesday. (The problem was attributed to Ernesto.) The general public was notified Thursday afternoon, and at that time, a boiled water advisory was put into effect for the entire county. The schools were closed on Friday as a precaution. By Saturday afternoon, the boiled water advisory was lifted, and things were back to normal. It is kind of funny that they were trying to protect us from something to which we had already been exposed for 24 hours, but it appears that there were no problems as a result of the main break.

Bo Update:

Bo went to the urologist today, and Dr. V ruled out testicular cancer, so that is a very good thing. He confirmed that Bo has some type of hormonal imbalance and that the imbalance is probably causing the lump in his breast. Dr. V ordered an additional blood test, and he is trying to determine if Bo needs to see another specialist - this time, a neurologist. At least we know it is nothing serious, and luckily it isn't causing Bo any real pain or discomfort. Nonetheless, I know Bo will be relieved when/if they figure it out.

Lance Update:

We have been keeping an eye on Lance's lymph nodes, and they definitely seem to be diminishing in size. We are going to wait another week or so before deciding whether or not to bring him back to the doctor, but at this point, I really believe that he is fine.

MB Update:

I was brushing my teeth a couple of nights ago when I happened to notice something growing on my head. It looks and feels just like peach fuzz, but it is beginning of the end of my hairless period. Bo wants to use his clippers to cut the few remaining longer strands closer to the scalp so everything will be the same length. He doesn't understand why I left those few strands after everything else fell out. I explained to him that they were the survivors, and if they could withstand some of the most toxic chemicals available for medical treatment, I wasn't about to cut them off! I am okay with trimming them now that they will be back among friends.

I never completely lost all of my eyebrows, but they thinned significantly, and were a little uneven and patchy. I had very full eyebrows to begin with, and one of my friends said she thought I had just had them waxed. (By a legally blind cosmetoligist???) I can now see right below the skin where the new eyebrow hairs are about to emerge though.

Things are looking up - on the vanity front anyway. Now, when we can just get the chemo behind me and this tumor removed once and for all, then what a happy day it will be!

So, if I know Jeff well enough by now, I sense a new band name - perhaps the Legally Blind Eyebrows...

Visits from Family, Friends, and Depressions

I like to update the blog a couple of times a week, but for a variety of reasons, I have had to put the blog on the back burner, and I have had to force myself not to feel stressed out about putting the blog on the back burner. Afterall, the blog is part of my healing process, and stress is not allowed in that process. Removing stress from my life has been a huge challenge (second only to losing my hair), and while I believe it is impossible to remove all stress from our lives, this Type A, control freak, perpetually seeking challenges woman has done a pretty darn good job of that - most of the time.

The last week of August, my Uncle Frank and Auntie Lenny came to Virginia to visit my Dad and Laura and to spend time with us. It was great to see them, and we had a number of opportunities to get together while they were here. They headed back up to Massachusetts on Thursday, in time to miss Ernesto's arrival on Friday.

By the time Ernesto visited Williamsburg, it had been downgraded to a tropical depression, but it still packed a powerful punch. We received about ten inches of rain, and the wind blew down many trees. At one point, 40,000 of the 45,000 local residents lost power, but fortunately we were one of the 5,000 that had power, and we never lost it. We had several limbs down in our yard, and the front passenger side of my Taurus was quite waterlogged, but that was the worst of the damage for us. Unfortunately, Bo's Mom and Richard lost their boat when the storm surge caused it to sink beside their pier. We are all hoping that is the worst of the hurricane season for us this year, but Florence is brewing out there now...

Ernesto left in time for our very good friends, Heather and Rob, and their eight month old son, Mattie, to come up from Charlotte to visit us for the Labor Day weekend. Their son is beautiful, just like them. I had forgotten how much work an infant is though!

They left on Monday, and another depression came to visit. This one too packed a powerful punch, but I was about the only one who felt it, with a few exceptions. I can't really attribute the depression to any one thing. I think it was just a combination of things that built up to a point that I needed to release some pressure in the form of tears. Although the chemo has had minimal effects on me, I am sure whether I acknowledge it or not, the toxicity is taking its toll on my body physically and emotionally. Also, the demands of trying to launch a brand new business and the accompanying financial pressure of supporting a family of five are hard to ignore. Additionally, I feel like I haven't been able to stay on top of things around the house. And, after a long weekend, I was dreading going back to work to a business that is still so uncomfortable for me. I think I was also mourning the passing of summer as the kids prepared for school on Tuesday. (You would think this is one summer I would be so glad to have behind me!) It could have also been hormones, but since I don't have periods now, just hot flashes, I don't know. Oh yes, then there is the whole I have breast cancer thing, too. I could keep listing contributing factors, but if I do that, I will get depressed all over again.

My brother, Jeff, called to check in Monday afternoon, and he just happened to be the one present when the depression struck, and the tears spewed forth. This was a fortunate thing because anyone else probably would have been crying with me. I was pretty pathetic. Not Jeff, though. He is way too rational for that. That's not saying he is cold-hearted - quite the contrary, in fact. He is very compassionate, generous, and loving, but he just has a very logical approach to working through crises, including mine. (He is also very creative at generating names for rock bands.) He let me cry and walked me through the storm by helping me figure out what would help relieve some of the anxiety.

I felt much better after talking to Jeff, and I didn't cry again for a couple hours. Then the storm struck again. This time, Bo experienced the effects. We talked about ways he could help take some of the pressure off of me, and of course, he wants nothing more than to support and help me. I recognize that some of the pressure is self-imposed and that I must give up my need to control everything. I am a work in progress, as we all are, but I am extremely motivated to progress to a state of good health and remain there.

The depression passed fairly quickly with occassional squalls on Tuesday, but today, I am feeling much better. I have way more things to be happy about than to be sad about, and I choose to focus on the happy. That being said, I am human. I don't have to be Superwoman. I know I am entitled to feel crappy, and when I do, I just need to go with it, knowing that it is okay to feel yucky, and that it will pass, just like Ernesto.

P.S. I was kidding about the hair - kind of.