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.