Half crazy

Coming back from Florida, I was exhausted, drained, and fighting a serious case of the winter blahs.  Then, a few weeks ago, after I went running with one of the women from Cancer-to-5K, I decided to join her in signing up for a half marathon in March.  (Thanks Jess for the inspiration! and Colleen for adding to it!)

I emailed the Cancer-to-5K coach and asked him whether he thought I was crazy for doing this.  His response:  yes (I hadn't run more than 4 miles in two years), and no (there's a generous four-hour limit on it, and I can do run/walk intervals).  And more yesses and nos.  I am most certainly half crazy.  But also crazy (in a good way) for the half.  I don't know yet whether I will be able to complete it, but I know that the decision to start training for it was the best decision I have made in a while.  I have found new motivation for exercising, even through cold and windy weather, which in turn is giving me more energy and helping me fight my winter depression.

So, I feel I have gotten a head start on new year's resolutions already.

In medical news, I made it through a week last week without a single medical appointment!  That is definitely progress.  Still many to come early in 2012, routine follow-ups, oncologist, dentist, bone scan (to get a baseline), a colonoscopy in the spring (an every-5-year thing) (ugh), and more physical therapy.  Just as my right shoulder finally started unfreezing and feeling good, my left shoulder decided to become frozen.  I have had a lot of pain in my left shoulder and neck, and am getting physical therapy and massage therapy to help with that.

Looking forward to 2012 as a year to make more positive changes in my life.  While the path is not yet clear, I hope it soon will be.

Benign

That is definitely the word I was hoping to hear from my doctor.  After 17 days of waiting, and an extra hour waiting at the doctor's office, finally learned that my uterine polyps were benign.  No cancerous cells, no pre-cancerous cells.  WHEW!

My horoscope for that day said:
"Once you tend to certain business you'll be able to forget it -- very likely forever.  It's not something that should stay with you."
I certainly hope I can forget this cancer business!!

While I am relieved by this news, I am still sad over losing my Uncle Morris over the Thanksgiving weekend.  In an odd twist, because he had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer in mid-October, the last 5-6 weeks of his life were spent with friends and family surrounding him, and he went quickly and easily with a heart attack.

It has now been a year since I completed my radiation treatments.  I can't believe how fast this year has gone.

I feel like it is time to make some changes in my life, personally and professionally.  I hope I have the strength and willpower to do so and will spend these last few weeks of 2011 trying to figure out what I want the upcoming year to look like.

Giving thanks

On this thanksgiving day, I would like to give thanks.

First, I didn't intend to leave anyone hanging after my last post.  I am thankful that the procedure last Friday went smoothly.  As did the anesthesia.  A friend accompanied me at the surgical center, which is a 20-25 minute walk from home.  I had spoken with the anesthesiologist the day before about my anxieties over the sedation, and was able to take my wonder-drug Ativan before leaving to head down (well, she didn't want me to take it if I was walking because "you might fall and break your leg!").  I think my favorite part of getting ready for the procedure was when I started crying out of sheer nervousness, and the anesthesiologist scolded me and said "you stop crying - you'll get all congested and make it hard for me to keep your breathing clear" (or something to that effect).  And my other favorite part - she scribbled something on her hand and my friend and I asked what it was - a reminder to give me the zofran (anti-nausea med) that I had lobbied for.

I was wheeled into the operating area, was there for about 10 seconds, and the next thing I knew I was opening my eyes and the doctor said "you're all done."  I suffered no ill effects from the sedation (had been nervous about the propofol, what with it killing Michael Jackson and all...).  My friend set me up at home, and later that evening, another friend came to check in on me and bring me dinner.

I will find out the results of the biopsy at my follow-up visit which is a week from monday.

Although I was in a wretched mood yesterday, had a good night's sleep (finally, after bad sleep the last several days) and now the sun is shining and I'm feeling pretty mellow.

Back to giving thanks.

I am thankful that my breast cancer was caught early and that it is now gone.

I am thankful that surgery, chemo, radiation and herceptin are over and done with.

I am thankful to have hair again!

I am thankful for my cats.

I am thankful for the enjoyment that photography has given me throughout this whole experience.  (speaking of photography, here is a link to my west virginia photographs from my workshop last month).

I am thankful for having found motivation to exercise, along with supportive new friends, in three different places:  the Cancer-to-5K running program, my cancer fitness spinning class, and the yoga for women cancer survivors class at Circle Yoga (yes, that's me in the picture!).

Finally, I am thankful for having amazingly supportive friends and family in my life to help me get through the tough times, and to help me enjoy the less tough times.

D&C-hysteroscopy-biopsy

Scheduled for friday afternoon.  Anxious.  Hate anesthesia.  Stress over procedure and complications.  Then worry and wait about results.  Looking forward to friday night when I'll be home from the procedure itself.

That's all for now.

Race Report: A Tale of Two Seasons...

This past Sunday was my goal race for the Cancer-to-5K fall season, the National Race Against the Odds.


Below follows my race report to the Cancer-to-5K group:


Race Report:  A Tale of Two Seasons...


That is, the season I was eagerly anticipating, and the season that actually was.  

At the beginning of our fall season, I was looking forward to getting faster and stronger and healthier.  I felt strong in my first group workout.  I was thinking that I could crush my spring time (39:05).  That season was not meant to be.

Just a few weeks in, my left knee starting hurting.  Not crazy writhing pain, but enough to be concerned.  Took a little time off from running, 

On September 10, I did a fun run.  It was a great 5K race, Light the Way 5K, benefiting Columbia Lighthouse for the Blind, that I ran with my friend who runs with me during the week (who just celebrated her 1-year cancerversary).  We got to run in and around Nationals Park (twice!).  I tried out intervals of 8 & 2, and finished in 39:36.  The Presidents came out for us.  Unfortunately, my knee did not appreciate the race.  

With my knee continuing to hurt, Coach Bob put me on walking workouts for a while.  With directions to ice my knee, do leg extension exercises.  Eventually I went to an ortho-doc and he told me I had no major damage, just a problem with my knee tracking correctly.  Followed up with my physical therapist who instructed me to do certain stretches and tape my knee.  The knee eventually started feeling a little better, and FINALLY, a few weeks ago, Coach Bob let me start doing running intervals again.

I was up to intervals of run 3, walk 2.  Then, coming into race week, I caught a cold (I think my third in the last six months).  Had an extraordinarily stressful few weeks leading up to race day.  Work stress, home stress, medical stress.  You name it, I was stressed about it.  Coach Bob wisely told me not to try to workout if I wasn't feeling 100% that week.  Rest and recover.  I unwisely went hiking the day before on the Appalachian Trail in MD.

Race day. I had not yet fully shaken my cold, and my knee was hurting from the hike the day before, but I was hellbent on beating my race time from the spring.  I was crabby heading over to the group in the parking lot and when Craig asked how I was, he got an earful.  But the excitement and anticipation began rubbing off on me.  Negotiated with Coach Bob on my intervals and got him up to run 4, walk 2 :-)   My race day sherpas were Kyle and Judy.  

From the moment we started running, I was on a mission.  I was going to run the heck out of my 4-minute intervals and do everything in my power to beat my spring race time.  But oh, those hills.  Short and quick, short and quick, I kept telling myself.  My RPE was way off the charts.  My watch was telling me that my running pace was in the 10-11 minute range, which is FAST (for me).  Kyle and Judy were steady by my side.  For a while, Coach Bob & Joseph ran with us, during which time he joked that I had specifically timed the 4-2 intervals so that my running would be on the downhills.  Hmmm, that did happen once or twice.  But Coach Bob left us and we found ourselves running up the same hill AGAIN.  Someone on the street shouted - "last hill".  I just snarled at him.  

Finally, nearing the playground towards the end.  But wait - what's this?  Alyssa and Collen suddenly appeared from the road!  (can't wait to read their race reports :-) )

Coming in to the finish I gave one last push to catch up with Alyssa.  My watch said 39:23, but it also said 3.18 miles.  The official race time had me at 39:30.  So who knows.  I did not beat my time from the spring, but I came awfully close, which I thought was quite a feat considering all the hills and crap in my lungs from my cold.  I did spend the remainder of Sunday coughing.  And my knee was angry with me Monday morning.  But I left just a little bit of all my stress out there on the hills in Arlington, and so it was definitely worth it.

My race sherpas & me, photo by Ben Fabella

Brunch at the Mad Fox was a wonderful way to end the season.  Thank you so much to Colleen, Jennifer & Andrea, my race day sherpas and Coach Bob for getting me through this.  I look forward to running with all of you and my Cancer to 5K teammates again SOON!

Third time, not quite a charm

Had sonogram again today.  Third time.

The good news first.  Cyst on left ovary is gone, so that is one less thing to worry about.

However, uterine lining is still thickened, approximately the same as before, close to 11.5 mm. It becomes thick, the technician told me, because polyps/fibroids form and push it up.

I met with the dr. who would perform the D&C -- she does indeed recommend getting it.  (I also spoke with my radiation oncologist who also recommended I get it.)  Risk of uterine cancer is elevated because of tamoxifen.  (See national cancer institute Q 6.)  Tamoxifen also causes these polyps to form and for the uterine lining to become thickened.  Based on my “symptoms” (bleeding) she is not overly concerned, but the D&C is a sure way to know.  

She does it Friday afternoons in the same downtown building as my regular doctor at an outpatient surgical center.

Thankfully they use twilight sedation.  She does not know the specific drugs they use for the sedation, but she is sure it is not general anesthesia.  I will have the opportunity to discuss with the anesthesiologist the specific drugs they will be using before they stick any needles in my arm.

The procedure takes 10-15 minutes.  I will be asleep for it.  She will dilate cervix, go in and scrape to remove fibroids and obtain cells for cancer testing.  There is a slight risk of bleeding, slight risk of infection, slight risk of creating hole in uterus.  If hole is created, may go in laproscopically to make sure it's not bleeding.  And it would then heal on its own.

Then recovery for 30-40 minutes.  Need to have someone to bring me home.

The night before the procedure, no eating after midnight.  Can have water up to five hours before.  Ok to have xanax (whew!).  After procedure - cramping for a day or two.

How long is the screening good for?  A year only.

So, I will look to schedule this before the end of the year, and in November if possible.  Want to get this over with as soon as possible.

Deported, and then some

Last Tuesday, after 17 months, I finally had my port removed.  Or, as Nurse Alka at Sibley put it, I was deported!  I really can't say enough good things about Sibley hospital; they really made the whole process as stress-free as it possibly could be.  At the last minute, I did opt for a teeny-tiny bit of the sedation, which is a combination of fentanyl for pain and versed for the anxiety.  I was awake for the procedure, and aside from the injection for the local anesthetic, it was relatively painless.  Another nurse talked to me about hiking during it to keep me distracted.  Although now I can't remember her name, she was really nice and born one day after me, same year.

I was home by lunchtime, and rested the remainder of the day.

In other news, my endometrial biopsy was indeed inconclusive and I had my follow-up ultrasound last Thursday.  My uterine lining is still too thick (it is 11.3 mm, compared to 11.5 mm, but it should be 5-10 mm), so my doctor wants me to do a followup procedure.  Rather than risk going through another endometrial biopsy and not obtaining sufficient tissue, she wants me to do a D&C (a full scraping of the uterine lining) with some sedation.  That is something to look forward to next month.  And my ovary cyst is still there, and apparently it looks cobwebby which is either good in that it is starting to degenerate, or not good, in that it is gathering strength.  A followup ultrasound for that in January.

So apparently, the testing is never done.

Last weekend I had my photography workshop in West Virginia.  It was spectacular weather and scenery, although quite exhausting.  Will post pics soon.

Happy New Year!

It's the eve of Rosh Ha'Shanah and I just got back from Sibley hospital a little while ago -- a  normal mammogram result is a good way to start off the Jewish New Year!

Not much else to report.  My knee has been hurting so no running for the last few weeks :-(

Attended a Cancer Legal Resource Center conference last week. Will head to West Virginia next weekend for a photography workshop.  Now that it's fall, trying to figure out what my "new normal" will be in the coming new year.

It has a name

That is, my breast blister.  I went to the dermatologist today and she told me it was a "lymphangioma circumscriptum."  Yikes.  She told me to google away and read all about it, but basically, it is lymphatic fluid building up and flowing out periodically, likely caused by radiation, chemo, surgery or a combination thereof.  She said it's nothing to be worried about, so I shall not worry too much about it.  Nothing much to be done about it other than tight bandaging.

Yesterday I had my endometrial biopsy.  I proved to be not the ideal patient and was so tense that it is possible my dr. did not get sufficient tissue samples. But she might have.  It was painful but I was fine afterwards.  Results will come in approximately 7 days.  If results are inconclusive due to insufficient tissue samples, she will want to monitor me with ultrasounds to determine if my uterine lining is becoming thicker (which apparently is a bad thing).

Feeling a bit sorry for myself today; am feeling run down and like I'm fighting off a cold, even though I just had a cold a few weeks ago!  Of course it is nothing compared to chemo, so not quite sure why I'm feeling so whiny about it.

Have been running, when I can.  My knee has started bothering me in the last week or two.  But I did get a 5K race in September 10, at nationals stadium.

My friend Janel & me before the race

 And went for a really nice hike Sunday at Wheaton Regional Park with a friend.  See pic below ... reflections in the lake.

One year ago

One year ago today I received my sixth of six rounds of chemo!  Minicupcakes, applause in the chemo room, and a welcome home banner helped mark the day. 

I would say that today is a better day!

Follow-up

Had two appointments today.  First was my pelvic ultrasound.  After drinking my obligatory 32 ounces of water, and then waiting about 45 minutes (test needs to be done with a full bladder) I was VERY ready to get the procedure started.

The test showed that I have a cyst on my ovaries - something to be monitored but not concerned about, my doctor told me.  My uterine lining was 11.5 mm thick, which was a little thicker than my doctor wanted to see (10 mm was her cut off), so I need to return in a few weeks for an endometrial biopsy.  She said she was not really concerned that it was cancer (she said typically the lining would be 20-25 mm thick at that point) but she just wants to be sure.  So, will have to have follow up for that.  It's scheduled for September 19.

My second appointment today was a followup with Dr. Croog, my radiation oncologist.  My edema (swelling) & redness are much decreased (which I really hadn't noticed).  She said everything looks good.  Need to go back to Sibley later in September for a followup mammogram.

So follow-ups leading to more follow-ups pretty much sums up today.

Sweating

My it has been a long time since I last posted.

So why sweating?

Well, it's been a hot & sweaty summer (duh, it's Washington, DC).  But no matter how hot and sweaty, even when it's 95 degrees +, I still don't feel as bad as I did when I was trying to be outside last summer while on chemo @ 80 degrees.  So that is progress.

Have spent far too much time over the last few months sweating the small stuff.  I can't even recall the things that were driving me crazy last month, but I know they were.  I do wonder if being on the tamoxifen has put me into this semi-permanent state of PMS.  Need to try for more walking, yoga, meditation to help combat this problem.

Sweating upcoming procedures.  Both about the procedures themselves and the anxiety of recurrence of cancer (or new cancer) with every doctor visit.  Tomorrow have a pelvic ultrasound to check to see if I have developed uterine cancer as a result of the tamoxifen (one of the rare, but bad, side effects of that medication).  Soon I need to have my port out but am having angst over that; nonetheless, have scheduled it for mid-september.  Then, at the end of september need to have a mammogram.  Will be sweating waiting for the results of that.

And finally - sweating in a good way.  Have started back training with the Cancer-to-5K program (check out their webpage -- some unflattering pics of me; a quote from my race report).  My progress since starting the running program in March is huge.  As I wrote our Coach (Bob) recently, on March 21, I did running intervals of 1 minute, walking intervals of 2 minutes; did 1.7 miles in 29 minutes, with my running pace ranging from 12:50 to 14:32.  On August 20, I did running intervals of 6 minutes, walking 2.  My pace ranged from 12:02 to 12:28; did 2.4 miles in 32 minutes.  So, am pleased that this sweating is paying off.

More race, more tests

Another race....two weeks ago I ran Survivor Harbor 4-mile race in baltimore with the Cancer-to-5K team and my friend Lisa.  It was hot, humid, sunny, sweaty, sticky, steamy, exhausting -- and an amazing experience! Was not feeling well the day before and almost turned around and went back to DC Saturday evening as I was driving up to baltimore.  But I managed to talk myself down from the ledge, did some good deep breathing exercises, and turned around and headed north to baltimore.  I told myself - if I don't feel well tomorrow, I can always just walk for four miles. It's about being part of something, finishing, and not necessarily worrying about being the fastest.

I had my own volunteer "sherpa" to help pace me during the race, Jenn.  She pushed me to keep running until we get to the each mile marker, and then take a well deserved water break. After the first 20 minutes, I was pouring as much water down my back, on my head etc. as I was drinking.  My frozen water bottle helped immensely.  The last mile was rough - sunny, hot, and more than I'd run since March 2010!  At the finish, my GPS watch said the race was actually 4.17 miles...finished a few seconds shy of 55 minutes! 



And more tests.... a continuing weird blister led to my surgeon recommending an ultra sound.  Although I'd had a clean mammogram just a month ago, was still nervous.  Thankfully, it didn't show anything cancerous (or much of anything at all).  


Some bruising on my arm, so I need to get my platelets tested soon.  And some female symptoms and may need to go for an endometrial biopsy.  Uterine cancer is a side effect of the tamoxifen that I'm taking - I think it increases the risk from 1 in 1,000 to 3 in 1,000.  Ugh.  And I have heard that that test hurts like holy hell.  Oh well, I'll deal.  


Have been hiking the last few weekends, near (Great Falls) and far (Shenandoah).  

And have now lost 7 of my 10 chemo pounds.  3 more to go!  

Two medals, Part II

Last Sunday was the goal race for my Cancer to 5K training program.  It was a 5K in Bethesda, along the Capital Crescent trail (a paved bike path).  I was SO lucky that the weather was cool.  I was hoping to run it in under 40 minutes and..... drum roll please ...... I finished in 39:05!

Here's a few pics from race day.

Can you find me?

Me with my race day "sherpa," monica

My teammates & our medals

For the story of race day, I'm going to cheat and paste below my race report I shared with the cancer to 5K email group last sunday, appropriately entitled "Phyllis ran a 5K!"

* * *

It's hard to believe, but just eight months ago I was getting my last round of chemo, and on my worst day (always Day 5, which would have been September 13) could barely walk around the block.  And today I RAN a 5K race.  And ran it hard!  This feel great.

I was a little nervous about today since yesterday I joined the sea of pink and walked the race for the cure.  Not an early riser, I had to get up by 6 a.m. yesterday, and was exhausted by the time I got home yesterday afternoon.  Still not an early riser, today I had to get up by 5:15.  Luckily, my two beastly cats made sure I was up by 5.  Upon the advice of Coach Bob, I even ate half an english muffin by 5:30.  

Just as I was thanking the weather gods for the super cool June weather, the skies opened up as I was driving to Bethesda and suddenly it was pouring!  Even more miraculously, the rain stopped as I pulled into the parking lot.  The choice of this race was perfect because parking was easy and it was not too crowded.  Found my peeps in the yellow shirts and we milled about waiting for race time to start.  

I was just about to start my wave when I heard my name being called to drop back ....Cancer to 5K was getting its own wave start!  Joined the group and we started at 6 minutes.  Monica was my steady sherpa.  I wanted to keep up with the others but my wise sherpa started to pull me back.  I started to obsessively check my pace on my GPS watch and it was definitely too fast at first.  Before I knew it we were at the 1 mile marker.  And I think even before then, we started to see the first runners already coming back!  Wow.  

Next up - that bridge I had heard so much about.  I'm thinking, ah good - an excuse to walk.  But Sherpa Monica had other plans for me.  Take the bridge slowly, short quick strides, chest up, but keep running.  After we get over the hump, she promised, I can take a water break.  Which I did.  Cheered on Carmen & Esther near the halfway mark.  At some point after the turn-around point, I started breathing heavier.  Monica was talking to me, and all I heard was "womp womp womp" -- the sound that teachers and adults make on Charlie Brown.  Finally caught up to Cyndi's red pony tail on that darned bridge.  For a while was running right ahead of Coach Bob and he reminded me - short and quick steps.  You'd think I'd remember on my own by now.  That - and Monica pouring cold water down my head & neck - got me through the last mile.  One more quick water break, and then the final stretch.  

While Monica was pulling me back earlier, the last 10 minutes she was pushing me to go faster towards the end and I found one last burst of energy for the last .1.  Then - finished!  YAY!!!  Lots of cowbell!!!  And I met my goal of under 40 minutes!!!  Just think about what I'll be able to do in the fall!

Next, photo shoot (with my obscenely red face), chatting & bagels.  And strutting around with an awesome new medal to show off.  The rest of this morning/afternoon have a date with my couch.  Feeling good.

Thank you SO MUCH Coach Bob,  my sherpa Monica, all the volunteers, Holly for getting this started, and my teammates for inspiring and pushing me.  I'll see some of you next weekend in Baltimore and hope to run with all of you again sometime soon!

* * *

the end of part II

Two medals: Part I

This past weekend I participated in two 5Ks:  saturday was the Komen race for the cure, a walk I did with my friend Janel's team, and sunday was my goal race for my cancer to 5K training program.

Saturday was special because I got to walk wearing the survivor t-shirt with my friend Janel, who's been my rock steady exercise buddy since we both started going to a cancer fitness spinning class together six months ago.  I also wore my earrings that I bought to distract me from my bald head last summer and the bracelet Aunt RoseAnn made for me.  And the little $2 purple backpack I usurped from mom while in west palm beach around diagnosis time last  year.

It was an effort because it was early and crowded!  But glad I did it.

The team!

Janel & me at the finish

Part II to come...

"ring my bell"

Ding dong, the herceptin's done.

After a somewhat crappy few days earlier in the week, I had my final herceptin appointment last thursday, May 26.  Herceptin # 18 of 18.  I've been feeling so blech and blah lately that it was hard to get too excited about it, but it was a very nice final appointment after all.  First I met with Dr. Smith, who was plotting out the next several herceptin visits ("I'll see you next time, but after that, I'll see you every other one.")  I had to break it to him gently that this was my LAST herceptin.  He did warmly congratulate me.

I brought the nurses a cute arrangement of fake flowers (I was concerned about bringing real ones into the chemo room where people are sensitive to smell...).  Got applause from the nurses for really graduating this time - yay!  And a big ol' hug from Nurse Karen.  And then - very special - she brought out this enormous bell for me to ring.  And since I didn't do it loudly enough, I got to do it over & over.  I think at that late time in the afternoon, there was only one other person left in the chemo room and she was very happy for me.

Nurse Karen & me

 Right after getting home from the doctor, raced off to the kennedy center to see the awesome girl duo, the sweater set (plus drummer).  Dinner with friends and then home, exhausted.  But done.

the sweater set

My chemoversary

Today marks one year from the beginning of my chemo treatments.  It's been both a very long and very quick year all at once.

Next Thursday is my final herceptin.  Whew.  Mixed emotions about that (mostly relief) but more on that next week.

Continue to be really tired all the time.  Am hoping that some of the fatigue is due to the herceptin, since next week is #18 of 18.

But in the meantime, continue to run - training with Cancer-to-5K for a race Sunday June 5.

And the day before, Saturday June 4, will walk the Komen race for the cure 5K with my spinning-running-walking buddy Janel's team.

And the following Sunday, June 12, will do a "survivor harbor" 4 mile race in baltimore with some of the Cancer-to-5K teammates, and my friend lisa.

Hiking tomorrow.

That's about it for now.

In the chemo room, again

Writing from the chemo room as I receive herceptin #17 (of 18!).  Can't believe that next time is my LAST ONE!!!

Good news to report - I had a mammogram at Sibley on Tuesday, and results came back normal!  I hadn't even realized how tense I was about it until that morning; the 15-minute wait for my results was agonizing.  Afterwards I just felt weak with relief.   Had lunch afterward with a friend at chef geoff's - a very tasty italian grinder (haven't heard a sandwich referred to as a grinder since my days at wesleyan).  Was so drained that rather than head back to work, got myself a mani-pedi with hot stone massage.

In other news, have continued to be really tired, a lot of the time.  This is frustrating.  My depression has been acting up this past week too.  This morning I was unable to get myself out of bed to run and get to work, so instead, just stayed home.  A few hours of work and a few hours of unproductive, non-relaxing time.  Ugh.  It is super nice out too, so unfortunate that I squandered the day.  Perhaps I shall go for a walk after treatment today.  Dinner tonight with two friends I haven't seen in a while.

My hair continues to grow like crazy and one day soon I'll post pics.

Catching up, Memento style

Today:  met with Dr. Smith, he told me that the lump I found was just an infected cyst and most definitely, definitely NOT cancer.

Sunday, 4/17:  after a wonderful hike in rock creek park, found a strange lump to the right of my right (non-cancer) breast.  Wow, really freaked out by that.

Thursday, 4/14:  met with Dr. Smith (McGrail's former partner), and had Herceptin number 16 of 18.  Still bumming about Dr. McGrail being gone.

Wednesday, 4/13:  consultation with Dr. Kaltman, as potential replacement for Dr. McGrail.  Liked her a lot.  Support group @ sibley afterwards.

Sunday, 4/10:  hiking amidst the Virginia bluebells.  That was nice.  It also marked a year since I hiked (or, hobbled) amidst the Virginia bluebells a year ago with my mom, 3 days after my surgery.

Wednesday, 4/6:  support group @ georgetown.  Really love this group of women.

Wednesday, 3/30:  met with Dr. McGrail.  Discussed why she was leaving practice effective immediately.  The very short answer:  contract dispute; Dr. Smith exercised his right to terminate her contract.  Very sad.  Crying, tissues and hugs.

Tuesday, 3/29:  found out from friend in breast cancer spinning class that Dr. McGrail was leaving.  Very upset.  Very attached to her.  No notice.

Sunday, 3/27:  great yoga for cancer survivors class, lunch with yoga friends, and my very first hair cut!!

Thursday, 3/24:  Herceptin number 15 of 18.  Routine visit with Dr. McGrail.

Sunday, 3/20:  nice hike along potomac heritage trail.

Wednesday, 3/16:  really relaxing smith farm yoga class.  Needed it because reentry to real life after vacation's been a bit rough.

Saturday, 3/12:  began my Cancer-to-5K training.  I think there are more volunteers than program participants, crazy!  I have a coach now who emails me workouts!

Friday, 3/11:  Back home from vacation.  Sigh.

Diagnosis day: A year later

It was a year ago today that I received the call from georgetown that my biopsy came back positive (positive not being a good thing).  Invasive breast cancer.

Twelve months later:  1.8 cm lump successfully removed on the first try by the amazing Dr. Cocilovo, 2-3 lymph nodes gone (still not sure whether I had two or three removed ... the important key being that they were negative!), one port implant, 6 rounds of chemotherapy (TCH ... taxotere, carboplatin & herceptin), 8 more rounds of herceptin (4 more to go), no hair for five months, 30 days of radiation, 10 pounds heavier (despite feeling queasy on chemo half the time, I managed to gain weight, go figure) .... here I am.   From the sunshine state, where I learned of my diagnosis, to the grand canyon state, where I am celebrating being beyond cancer, and trying to figure out my new life (including handling anxiety over recurrence), here I am.

I have so many people that helped me through, whether for the whole year, or just a small moment along the way, for which I am very thankful.  I wouldn't dare try listing people for fear of missing someone.  You know who you are, so thank you.

Bridge to spring...getting past the bumps

I'm in Phoenix!

Just a few weeks ago I planned my trip to arizona.  I just finished a big deadline at work (and got positive feedback on the comments I wrote - yay - my brain is starting to work again).  And as I've already mentioned, I am now coming up to the one year anniversary of my diagnosis day.  So, this week seemed like a good time to go.

Last spring I was miserable with diagnosis, surgery and the beginning of chemo.  Then came the summer which was unbearably hot whilst on chemo.  Fall was a blur of driving to and from sibley hospital for my radiation treatments.  And this winter, I have been tired and a cold weather wuss.  So, I have been yearning for spring to start.  And I have been viewing this trip as my bridge to spring (as I've told a few of you).  Because once I get back, it is the weekend of daylight savings time (and my birthday), the beginning of the Cancer to 5K training program I registered for, and I will finally start to feel settled into my new reduced work schedule, I hope.

I am convinced I have SADD, seasonal affective depressive disorder, or whatever it's called.  The cold dark days just bum me out.  So, very excited to spend a week in arizona where it will be in the 60s.  And then to come back to the beginning of spring in DC.  Hence, my bridge to spring.

About the bumps.  The short version is, despite all my obsessive planning the perfect travel arrangements, it all went to hell when US Air canceled my flight this morning, after keeping us delayed about an hour.  I managed to get on a United flight out of Dulles, but instead of getting to Phoenix at 2 p.m., I didn't get here until 9.  Had to transfer through Chicago (Pete, I didn't even have a chance to call you!).  Some turbulence heading toward chicago, and even more turbulence heading away from chicago.  But - big picture - despite a detour and change in my friday plan (not driving to flagstaff tonight), I am here in phoenix and ready to hit the road tomorrow morning.  Grand Canyon here I come!  No pictures yet, but there will be many :-)

Moving out of the Comfort Zone

A few weeks ago, I attended a "transition to wellness" workshop at georgetown.  A big theme of the workshop was finding your "new normal."  That is what I am in the process of doing.  Something one of the panelists said really resonated with me; after she completed treatment, she spent time rethinking ~ "what do I want to do with my life."  I have been asking myself that question a lot these days.

After broaching the subject of reducing my hours slightly with the managing partners at my firm, they suggested perhaps I was being even too ambitious in estimating the number of hours I would be able to comfortably bill this year.  Although it seemed a giant leap (thus moving me out of my comfort zone), the other day, I proposed a 60% work schedule and I believe it will be acceptable to them.  Part of me worries about whether it is crazy, lazy or irresponsible to not work full time, but most of me feels really excited about having the opportunity to take the time to heal this year and do things that I have not had the time and energy to do.  Figuring out what I want to do with my life.

As I have struggled with the roller coaster of emotions and feelings over these last two months, I came to the conclusion that I really need a vacation.  Once again, moving out of my comfort zone, I just booked a solo spiritual journey vacation -- going to the grand canyon and a spa in sedona arizona!  I'll be going in just a few weeks and it will mark one year since my diagnosis.

And this weekend, I will be leading a hike for the first time in nearly a year.  

What I finally realized is that having to go through breast cancer, surgery, chemotherapy and radiation was  all outside of my comfort zone; so maybe -- just maybe -- I am strong enough to make other decisions to take care of myself, even if it means tip-toeing outside of the zone of comfort.

(Pictures:  back at sugarloaf mountain, hiking 7 miles on saturday)

Getting back on track

So after two weeks off the tamoxifen, I am back on it.  In the meantime, some changes to medications and the addition of a super vitamin D dose for my low vitamin D levels.  There are studies showing vitamin D deficiency is linked to higher incidence of breast cancer recurrence, among other things.  And am taking steps to ward off the depression including planning hikes, run-walking (well, once), more yoga, walking, spinning.... though still have yet to lose the ten pounds I packed on during chemo.  

Taking steps to take better care of myself.  I attended a "transition to wellness workshop" last week at Georgetown (more on that later).  And I found a running program specifically geared to people that have had cancer and been through treatments!  Cancer to 5K ... start training in March (with a 7-mile option).  It's not quite a marathon, but I'll take it!

And am in the process of figuring out a plan to reduce my billlable workload for this upcoming year -- the managing partners at my firm were receptive to it ... yay!

Hair update....it just keeps growing and is now becoming unruly.  Here's some hair pics, the first two from Jan. 15, the third from Jan. 30.

The heart of winter

Last Thursday I had my every-three-week herceptin appointment (number 12 of 18).  My doctor asked how I was doing and I burst into tears.  Which seemed odd to me given that I am now done with treatment, for the most part.  After talking with me for a while, she told me to stop taking the tamoxifen for a few weeks to figure out if it was causing me to feel depressed.  This is apparently a reported side effect that "a small number of women" may experience from the tamoxifen.

The last several weeks have been difficult.  It feels like in a blink of an eye we've gone from the dead of summer to the heart of winter.  I've been tired, sick (I got my first post-cancer cold....nasty little germs, left me feeling lousy for a week and a half) and completely unmotivated to do anything.    I think I will figure this out and not let the tamoxifen get the better of me, but it might take a little bit of time and work.  And speaking of work, I took a "rest day" from work today.  That helped a bit.  As did a winter hike on saturday.   And knowing that in less than two months we'll have daylight savings time again (this year on my birthday!) means there is an escape to winter coming soon.

Dear Diary

Growing up, each year somewhere around late January, I would start the entries in my brand new diary (recently received each year as a Chanukah gift from my parents):  "Dear Diary, I am sorry I haven't written in a few days....." I would then proceed to catch my poor, neglected diary up on all the goings-on of recent days.

That's what I feel like right now.  "Dear blog, I am sorry I haven't blogged on you in a while.  I have been really busy," yada yada yada.

In any event, I headed up to NY over the Xmas break.  Good visit, but very tiring.  Didn't get to see everyone I wanted due to various ailments and blizzard.

Since my last blog post, I had another herceptin appointment (the day before New Year's eve day).  Although I had a long wait, it was otherwise uneventful.  Under my "last week, this week or next week" formula, I can somewhat easily remember that my next appointment is next week.

The main thing going on is I finally started taking tamoxifen the other day.  Several people I know who have taken it have complained of severe bone pain.  So I am knocking on wood hoping that won't be a problem; so far, it isn't.  My big fear was stomach upset.  So far, knocking again on my poor table, so good.

Continue to have acid reflux (this was a chemo side effect that just hasn't gone away yet) and sore throat (ditto).  And to be really tired.  (But not chemo fatigue; not even close).  Oh, and I can't concentrate on anything at work or remember almost anything.  My mind has turned into a large-holed colander (I just proved my own point -- it took me 30 seconds to remember the word "colander."  Word recollection is particularly dicey these days.)  It was suggested to me that perhaps it's not the chemo or radiation but hormones (which were thrown into whack by the chemo).  Who knows.  I need to find out what I can do about it.  Because I'm starting to drive myself nuts with it.

Signing off.  Early morning tomorrow (breast cancer spinning class at 8).  Good night, dear blog.