It’s about time …

I know it has been a while since I have posted anything. Have you missed me? There has been a lot going on, so I have been a bit busy and a bit avoiding. For starters, I went back to working full-time at the beginning of December. That was much better for me than I would have ever imagined. Shortly after going back, though, I lost my hair. It didn’t fall out in a big clump from one spot like I thought it would … it just gradually came out more and more until finally, on Friday, December 6, I had fist-fulls coming out while washing my hair. Then, I had to clean out my brush twice while getting ready for work. All day I knew … we would shave my head that night. Luckily, my taste buds had bounced back and I was able to enjoy a glass of wine – ok … a couple glasses of wine – before David and I went into the bathroom and he pulled out the clippers. I didn’t cry. It wasn’t that kind of traumatic. It was just weird. After a week of feeling normal again, here it was … another reminder that this is not yet finished.

Embracing the bald …

I worked again the following week, except for Wednesday when I had Round 2 of chemo. Thursday and Friday went well, and I was back at work, but Saturday things went south quickly. I am thankful for our recently purchased bed and the fact that we spent a little extra for the adjustable frame. Yes, we felt like old people buying our “Craftmatic” (it’s not, it’s a Serta), but it has been a true blessing in this situation so I don’t have to fight with pillows or stay stuck flat on my back when the only place I want to be is bed.

The after-effects of Round 2 were quite different from Round 1 – some better and some worse. I have not battled the nausea or indigestion of last time, but I have had fatigue and body aches like I have never experienced before. When the pain meds don’t take away the pain, and I have exhausted every possible comfort position, the only thing to bring relief is a redden-your-skin-hot bath. I wished I could live in one the last two days.

As bad as the last few days have been, as soon as I walk into the Oncology Center – like I did this morning – I am reminded of how truly fortunate I am, even in this trial. I am n0t trying to shrink a tumor or stop a cancer that is metastasizing like a runaway train. My prognosis is absolutely positive. I had to remind Izzy of this the Sunday after I became bald. It was really hard for her to come to terms with me losing my hair. I think it is because, for the first time since this all began, I looked different … sick, even. It was the first really physical manifestation of this trial. I had to remind her, as I remind myself, that my surgery removed all of the cancer from my body. It is not the cancer that is causing the sickness now, but the treatment … and the purpose of the treatment is just to make certain that the cancer – the real problem – never comes back. I count myself among the lucky. I count myself blessed.

One Week Post-Op

This time, one week ago, I was in surgery. Time seems to drag on lately, yet I can’t believe that it has been a whole week. I’ve never been through this before, so I don’t know what “normal” looks like, but what I am going through is certainly not what I expected. I was asked the question this morning, “how are you feeling?” The answer is quite complex.

Physically, I am not in pain as much as discomfort. The implants were placed under my top pectoral muscle, so there is a general tightness in my chest. In addition, because we are waiting for gravity to do its thing, the implants are high and wide … so, I feel them under my armpits, and it is uncomfortable as well as wierd. Add to that the drain tubes that are stitched into each of my sides, and I think that explains why I would rather be sleeping than doing anything else.

The other physical aspect is just a general feeling of grossness. Now that the pain balls have come out, I can shower, but I cannot do everything myself, and it is quite an ordeal. While I would like to get back to my normal routine of showering daily, just thinking about it exhausts me. One of the reasons I chose to have the reconstruction at the same time as my mastectomies was so that I would look/feel normal. I didn’t expect my “breasts” to be perfect, but I was expecting more normal than this. It is hard. It is hard to look at – with or without clothes on – and it is certainly hard to face the reality as intimately as one does while showering. Even if I feel up to showering, both physically and mentally, I go back to putting on the same camisole top that I got in the hospital. It has velcro up the front and special interior pockets for my drains. Even though I have washed it, it is not flattering by any stretch of the imagination. So, I am left feeling … gross and unattractive.

I have already alluded to my mental/emotional state which is fragile at best. I must admit that I have gotten away from the habits of praying and spending time in The Word. Instead, I have retreated to my old escapes of sleep and television. Now, for those of you who know The Fredericks, you know that we don’t have but the basic channels … what we have instead is Netflix and Hulu+ which is much more dangerous in this situation. It took me only 2 days to complete the 5th and 6th season of Cake Boss … one after another … after another. The tears come at night, in the arms of my beloved, who does his best to comfort me. This will indeed be a long journey …

TREATMENT UPDATE: After the news that three of the five lymph nodes removed contained cancer cells, I called to make an appointment with my chosen oncologist and learned that her soonest available new patient appointment would be the 19th of this month. However, I heard back from her office today, and she has offered to come in early for a 10 AM appointment this Thursday. I’ll know more of what is to come after that.