My Left Tata

Hey all – it’s not a tumor!  It’s a lymph node that is acting up for some reason or another and turned hard.  The exam today turned into an ultrasound where they identified it as a lymph node.  This is good news.    I didn’t even have to have a biopsy.

Maybe I shouldn’t type that though… jinxing myself! 

Swollen lymph nodes are a sign of 1)an infection, 2) immune system issue 3) The C-word.  I have one, little, hard lymph node.  My theory is that it’s still pissed off because my other lymph nodes were messed with during the mastectomy and it’s been working overtime. 

The results of the ultrasound will go to a specialist who will decide if there’s something else to do (or not).  I may just have to wait and see if it goes away.

I am at peace.

… If you had a had an appointment tomorrow morning because you had a lump in your breast?  Would you finish the work day as normal, make dinner, load the dishwasher, do a few loads of laundry, cut and file your nails and catch up on emails?  Or would you do something unusual, or something decadent like eating chocolate in your silk robe while reading romance novels all night? 

I thought I would opt for the latter and get the bubble bath running.  Because everything could change tomorrow with a bad diagnosis and I wouldn’t want to have any regrets right?  Think about this.  Even if you don’t have a lump in your breast, everything could still change tomorrow.   So; what do you want to do right now? 

I can make a great argument for being footloose and fancy-free, but I can’t shirk my responsibilities every night…  I’d be homeless and hungry.  Maybe it’s not what you do but how you approach it, or your mental state while doing it.  I can’t say I enjoyed doing laundry but I appreciate having it done.  I can type now that my nails are short again.  Once things were in order I went for a walk with wine in a plastic cup (classy).  I ran into a neighbor who is undergoing treatment for non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and we chatted for quite some time about life after treatment.   We are the women who don’t have plans!  Not because we aren’t planners but because we know firsthand that plans change no matter what we do.   I can’t think of a better way to spend my evening… and I didn’t plan it at all.    

Tomorrow will come and the doc will examine the lump and she’ll either say it’s nothing or it’s something (or that mysterious third option that always comes up).  I may go to a business lunch after that and maybe I won’t.   I have work to do too. 

I do have a point, I’m just struggling for the right words tonight.  Just because I know life may change tomorrow shouldn’t change who I am or what I do.  The fact that it didn’t tonight makes me feel whole and solid, like I am completely at peace with the unknowns.        

My doctor called on Friday morning with results of the latest biopsy.  The call started out fine as she informed me that the biopsy of the uterine tissue came back as normal, healthy tissue.  And then she said one word that stopped my heart briefly: BUT.  There was a small polyp found in the uterine tissue and it contained cells that were classified as hyperpalsia or precancerous. 

What does this mean to my everyday life?  Nothing.  The cells are considered precancerous and therefore not a threat that can be treated in any way.  They were removed and my uterus was treated in such a manner (Nova Sure) that it is unlikely I can ever grow another uternine polyp.  I just have to be aware of the fact that I can grow them and report any abnormal bleeding to my doctor immediately. 

So I was shaken but not stirred.    Sorry – couldn’t resist the James Bond reference there.  In all serious though, the word “but” made my knees turn to jello, my heart start racing and my hands shake.  My hands didn’t stop shaking until late that night.  Because what if the “but” had been the big C again?  Things started racing through my mind.  Have I been prioritizing my life like I said I would?  Have I spent amazing quality time with Gavin, making him laugh and hugging him and letting him know he his unconditionally loved all the time?  Have I maximized and enjoyed every minute of every day that I’ve been given here on this earth?!

So the sky was slightly bluer than usual yesterday and Gavin’s smile was sweeter and his hugs were even better.  It shouldn’t take a life-threatening disease to make you really appreciate life… but it helps.

Getting mentally prepared for another surgery tomorrow… a minor one this time.  They are going to remove the polyp/fibroid growing in my uterus and clean things up in there a bit.  The end result should be great (reduced periods) and I’ll be home by the afternoon and back at work the next day.  No big deal.  I already have a road trip to Chicago planned including a Cubs game. 

Of course, you know they are going biopsy whatever it is they remove.  My favorite word.  The doctor is sure it’s nothing.  I just need a few weird things to be nothing and then I’ll be able to relax a bit more.  So far tonight I’ve finished the laundry, bought a paddleboard, caught up on emails, burned CDs to my external hard drive, caught up on facebook, balanced the checkbook, made dinner, cleaned a bunch and now I’m typing.

Sweet dreams friends – more to follow after results are in!

I rode my bike down to the beach alone on Thursday and had some time to reflect.  I love the beach… it used to be just because of the sun and the boys but now there’s so much more.  I can go down there by myself and always know that I’ll run into a friend. 

It was a Tuesday night, last September, when I went in for the magnifications of my original mammogram.  Brian and Steph went with me and we all watched and listened as the tech circled the spots that were concerning her, showing us the healthy breast versus the questionable one.  Seeing the light colored flecks inside my body did something to me.  I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that there was something foreign, something possibly bad, possibly cancer inside me!

Brian and I decided to go to the beach that evening.  It was really warm for September and we played volleyball with friends until we could hardly move anymore.  As the sun was setting a bunch of us went down for a swim.  The sun was setting on the water and reflecting a brilliant red color.  It was like we were swimming in lava!  All I could think about was how I loved the feeling of the water and being surrounded by my friends and my sand.  I didn’t want to go home. 

Two friends, Steph and Ted, didn’t want the evening to end either.  They offered up their place to have a few drinks and grill.  Brian looked at me and I quickly jumped at their offer.  They had no idea what was going on in my head that night.  We cooked, we drank and we laughed… and laughed and laughed.  Words cannot express the gratitude and love I feel for Steph and Ted for helping me get through that night!   I’m just sorry I never told them how much they helped me at the time.  So thanks guys!

So I was alone at the beach again last week but not alone at all.   I jumped in and played a little ball, dove around in the sand and felt like me.  Was the last year really just a bad dream?  It’s like it never happened… other than the new magnificent cleavage that is.    I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for the people I know at the beach.  I rarely see them anywhere else but they are such a huge part of my normal, wonderful life!  Thanks to everyone for loving the beach, loving volleyball and just being.  Aloha.

Sorry for the delayed posting but life goes on… whew! 

Gavin’s biopsy came back clear.  It was a pilomatricoma, which is common in younger children and on the face.  It’s likely got something to do with a hair follicle that went a little crazy but most importantly it is NOT cancer.    And, it would’ve grown so we made the right call in having it removed.  The scar is already fading and he was a hotshot at school when he brought in his removed stitches for show and tell.  Unfortunately, the doc could not save the cyst… Gavin wanted to share that.  EW!

My uterine biopsy also came back clear which means that my girl parts aren’t cancerous either… just a big pain in the butt!  I’ll go in on June 15th to have the cyst/polyp/fibroid removed and hopefully that will be the end of that. 

As my wise cancer shrink once told me, I just need a few medical things in my life to be non-cancerous so I can quit worrying.  Let this trend continue!

Tomorrow is a big day.  I’m getting ready for the first volleyball tournament of the year, which is always a big deal.  It’s a slightly bigger deal because I’m playing with new foobs and the tournament is in my honor and my mother’s memory!  I’m not quite sure how to handle this one. 

I feel like I should say something before, during or after the tournament… something really meaningful and poignant!  But what?  I might just go out and play and hang out with my friends.  But if I felt like talking I might say something like this:

Mary Jane Jurgens Kars was a jock!  Racquetball, softball and even karate.  My grandmother fondly recalls the time she flipped my Dad over her back in their living room because he said she couldn’t do it.   At age 30 she was diagnosed with invasive breast cancer, underwent chemotherapy and later reconstruction.  She got a divorce, met a great guy, got remarried, got happy and then failed her test (CBC) 1 month shy of her 5 year anniversary.  This news came in March of 1984… the cancer moved into her liver and then her brain.  She died in September at the age of 36.

I went from healthy jock to cancer patient in one week.  On Monday morning I had a mammogram and was told that afternoon they saw something suspicious.  Tuesday was magnifications, Thursday and biopsy and Friday I had breast cancer. 

My mom and I are just two examples.  Why do healthy women get breast cancer?  I choose to support the army of women (www.armyofwomen.org) because they are focusing their efforts to find out what causes breast cancer.  I don’t believe that killing cancer cells is the answer since it kills all the good cells too… but if we could find a way to keep women from ever getting it… that would be amazing! 

I am so happy and proud to have a group of friends that want to do something to prevent other women from going through this.  I hope that my experience can serve to help others stay on top of their self exams and mammograms.  May my new cleavage serve as a reminder (and hopefully a distraction if you’re on the opposing team) that we’re so blessed to be healthy and playing a game we love.  

The ultrasound and endometrial biopsy went as well as they could.  According to my new doctor I have “Gorgeous Anatomy”!  I’m not making that up.  That’s what she said when she was looking at my ovaries… so clear and perfect she wanted to pull in some medical students to check them out.  I may have a new career opportunity: poster child for gynecological studies!

Anyway she did figure out why I’ve been such a mess lately (other than having cancer that is).  I also have a polyp or fibroid growing in my uterus.  This little mass is what is making me bleed like a … sieve? I can’t come up with anything!  I’m out of analogies today I guess.   She also took a biopsy (there’s that word again) of my uterine wall.  The waiting game for results begins again.

Besides waiting on biopsy results, the additional bad news is that I’ll have another surgery in my near future to remove this puppy (June 15).  At the same time though, they’ll do a DNC and a new procedure called “nova sure” that will help me have lighter periods in the future.  It’s outpatient but I do have to go under.  This could be fun for my friends who’ve enjoyed my post-surgery fuzzy dizziness. 

The good news is that I don’t have ovarian cancer or cervical cancer and I do have “Gorgeous Anatomy”!

Want to hear anotherfreak out moment?  Gavin has a small bump under his left eye and it’s been growing.  It felt hard and round, like a pea.  I brought him to his pediatrician who referred me to a plastic surgeon, who now wants to operate on my baby to remove the cyst and BIOPSY it.  They believe it’s just calcium as it’s not fast growing and doesn’t look like cancer but really… the word biopsy makes my heart drop a few inches in my chest and I break out into a cold sweat. 

Is this some kind of test of character? I’ve heard that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.  Does it count as “handling” if prescription drugs are required?  Gavin’s surgery is scheduled for May 12.  When we’re together I can’t help but wonder if I’m appreciating his health enough.  What if I find out he’s sick on May 12 and everything changes?  Will I be mad at myself for not having enough fun with him before we found out?

But you know… every one of us is going to die someday from something.  Each day could be my last, cancer diagnosis or not.  What do we do with that knowledge that life is so very uncertain and short?

Here is my 12 step program (more steps added as I think of them!):

1. Clear your life of relationships that are not positive (my grade B-)
2. Find a job you enjoy (B+)
3. Use all of your vacation days (A)
4. Find friends who make you laugh (A+)
5. Go on adventures (A)
6. Talk to strangers and always get eye contact – you never know who you may meet! (A)
7. Make your child(ren) laugh (B+)
8. Drink a little, dance on a table and do karaoke (“Paul Revere” by The Beastie Boys). (A+)
9. Exercise (B)
10. Breathe deeply (B)
11. Let it get messy (F)
12. Find a cause (or three) and give what you can (B)

All the squeamish men need to stop reading right now.  It’s about to get ugly and gory.  I’ve been mostly upbeat throughout this whole process but on occasion I need to vent a little.  I’ve had my period since December 2 (that’s  months now)!

It’s always been a problem for me so I’ve been on the pill. Unfortunately you shouldn’t be on the pill, which contains estrogen, when you’ve had hormone receptive (ER/PR+) cancer.   My understanding of this is that if you were to put my type of cancer cells into a petri dish and then introduce estrogen, my cancer cells would be extremely happy and active, multiplying faster.   When I asked my breast surgeon about my cycle and hormones she said she’d prefer I not ovulate any more at all.  I guess it keeps your hormones more level when you don’t.

I found the depo-provera shot which is injected into your ass once every 3 months, contains no estrogen and stops ovulation.  PERFECT.  Not quite… Side effects may include: mood swings, break through bleeding and lack of sex drive.  For me, the warnings should have read “side effects WILL include…” because I got them all plus a really fun case of night sweats.

I have sexy new cleavage but they are numb.  I’m considering buying stock in Tampax.  It’s impossible to feel like me when my boobs ache, I have cramps, I’m bleeding and waking up once or twice a night drenched in sweat.

Did I mention the hair growth?  I’m growing new hair at my hairline, which is cool but the fine blonde mustache had to go.  Waxing your upper lip and cheeks really hurts!  Is this what menopause will be like?  Will I cry at Hallmark commercials, snap at my boyfriend over nothing and fight the urge to run naked down my street at 2 AM just to cool off again when I’m older?  Hormones – they’ve given me dry scalp, a nasty temperment, chin hair, wacky dreams, anxiety (well – I had that already), cravings, tears and a lot of fights over nothing (poor Brian).  I have found one good thing about this mess.  I have to buy a lot of new underwear! 

I’ve been to my OB a few times now and he seems to be out of ideas.  One thing I’ve learned through this experience is that you have to really push sometimes when you don’t feel right.  You can’t accept what a doctor tells you if it doesn’t feel good or work for you.

I found a new OB who works closely with my breast surgeon and understands cancer and hormones. Next Friday is a big day for tests.  She’s checking my thyroid and doing a uterine ultrasound and endometrial biopsy.  Once she rules out cysts, fibroids and (gulp) cancer, we’ll probably do a procedure called “nova sure”, which reduces bleeding. I have a little bit of anxiety again because she said the “c” word.  I really need a few medical things to be non-cancer related so I can quit panicking every time something is off.  I’m becomming a hypocondriac!

• “cough” = lung cancer!
• “toot” = colon cancer!
• “sniffle” = nose cancer!

You know you’re one step from the nut house when you’re wondering about nose cancer every time you blow your nose.