I had another dream on Friday night. I've struggled with whether or not I should post it because that would mean admitting that sometimes I am rather frightened. That is not an easy public confession.
Picture medieval England. Think Crusader, King Arthur, Knights of the Round Table, etc. The battlefield is littered with the bodies of footmen and horsemen and there are only four of us left to fight on each side. (I have no idea who we're fighting for or against but that's irrelevant. I don't even know how I ended up in medieval England.) Because we're down to the last four, it is now a matter of hand-to-hand combat. It is at this point that I, as a soldier, become frightened. I'm weak. I'm tired. I just want to go home. I become aware that if I fight I might not survive. I decide to run back into the forest away from the battle. I mention my plan to my teammates. I thought that they would have been a little more supportive but I was wrong. They turn on me and explain that if I don't fight with them they will kill me themselves. Talk about a dilemma. If I go into battle, I will probably die. If I don't go into battle, I will definitely die. Oh, the anguish. It's at this point that my dear husband wakes me up. He has noticed that I'm having a very bad dream. It's lucky for me that he has such broad shoulders. When I wake up, I am not in a good mood. A few weeks ago, someone else with cancer said that she felt that her body had betrayed her. I can't go that far. That seems a little extreme but, then again, I can't say I'm very pleased with my body at the moment. After all these years of being "a good girl", I really had expected better behaviour from it.
On Sunday, the four of us went to church as a family. I haven't been out much lately and to get all four of us out at the same time is impressive. The closing hymn was, "Be Thou My Vision". That was our wedding song 20 years ago and is one of my absolute favourites. Look at verses 3&5. Given my dream on Friday, was the playing of this song on Sunday a small-"c" co-incidence? I think not. "It's Friday, now but Sunday's a-coming." (Tony Campolo).
Be Thou my vision: verses 3 & 5
Be Thou my breastplate, my sword for the fight;
Be Thou my armour, and be Thou my might;
Thou my soul's shelter and Thou my high tower,
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.
High King of heaven, when the battle is done,
Grant heaven's joy to me, O bright heaven's Sun,
Christ of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my vision, O Ruler of all.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Friday, March 21, 2014
Episode 14: Why the wait?
The lab sent my report away for an HER2-neu assessment which they just got back yesterday. The pathologist is now reviewing the information and I will most likely be called next week to be given an appointment time. What is HER2, you ask? I don't know yet if I have it or not but here is the info.
"Receptor tyrosine-protein kinase erbB-2, also known as CD340 (cluster of differentiation 340), proto-oncogene Neu, Erbb2 (rodent), or ERBB2 (human) is a protein that in humans is encoded by the ERBB2 gene. The ERBB2 gene is also frequently called HER2 (from human epidermal growth factor receptor 2) or HER2/neu. HER2 is a member of the epidermal growth factor receptor (EGFR/ERBB) family. Amplification or overexpression of this oncogene has been shown to play an important role in the development and progression of certain aggressive types of breast cancer. In recent years the protein has become an important biomarker and target of therapy for approx. 30% of breast cancer patients." (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Her2)
"In about 1 of every 5 breast cancers, the cancer cells make an excess of HER2 due to a gene mutation. This gene mutation and the elevated levels of HER2 that it causes can occur in many types of cancer — not only breast cancer. This is a gene mutation that occurs only in the cancer cells and is not a type of mutation that you can inherit from a parent." (http://www.mayoclinic.org/breast-cancer/expert-answers/faq-20058066)
The key here is that this protein is an important indicator of the treatment and therapy that will be chosen. To personalize, this means that the pathologist is now reviewing my report based on the new information and then can choose an appropriate treatment plan. Just to clarify, chemotherapy is a general term that is also known as a cocktail of chemicals and the precise combination of chemicals that goes into the cocktail is determined by the results of the various tests.
Further, this wait that I've been through is apparently quite standard. The doctor's office checked my timeline against others and they were all very similar. This wait has been good for me. Having most of my energy back since the surgery, I'm doing more around the house again and helping my husband in the office. It's not the fact that I'm doing more that matters here. The really cool thing is that I've been thinking about other things quite a bit. I actually forget about the cancer. As much as I love being the centre of attention for a little while, even I get bored with myself eventually, and it's so nice to know that there is life without cancer.
Stay tuned for more ... (information, self-pity, and hopefully a bit of humour).
"Receptor tyrosine-protein kinase erbB-2, also known as CD340 (cluster of differentiation 340), proto-oncogene Neu, Erbb2 (rodent), or ERBB2 (human) is a protein that in humans is encoded by the ERBB2 gene. The ERBB2 gene is also frequently called HER2 (from human epidermal growth factor receptor 2) or HER2/neu. HER2 is a member of the epidermal growth factor receptor (EGFR/ERBB) family. Amplification or overexpression of this oncogene has been shown to play an important role in the development and progression of certain aggressive types of breast cancer. In recent years the protein has become an important biomarker and target of therapy for approx. 30% of breast cancer patients." (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Her2)
"In about 1 of every 5 breast cancers, the cancer cells make an excess of HER2 due to a gene mutation. This gene mutation and the elevated levels of HER2 that it causes can occur in many types of cancer — not only breast cancer. This is a gene mutation that occurs only in the cancer cells and is not a type of mutation that you can inherit from a parent." (http://www.mayoclinic.org/breast-cancer/expert-answers/faq-20058066)
The key here is that this protein is an important indicator of the treatment and therapy that will be chosen. To personalize, this means that the pathologist is now reviewing my report based on the new information and then can choose an appropriate treatment plan. Just to clarify, chemotherapy is a general term that is also known as a cocktail of chemicals and the precise combination of chemicals that goes into the cocktail is determined by the results of the various tests.
Further, this wait that I've been through is apparently quite standard. The doctor's office checked my timeline against others and they were all very similar. This wait has been good for me. Having most of my energy back since the surgery, I'm doing more around the house again and helping my husband in the office. It's not the fact that I'm doing more that matters here. The really cool thing is that I've been thinking about other things quite a bit. I actually forget about the cancer. As much as I love being the centre of attention for a little while, even I get bored with myself eventually, and it's so nice to know that there is life without cancer.
Stay tuned for more ... (information, self-pity, and hopefully a bit of humour).
Monday, March 10, 2014
Episode 13: Waiting
Aaargh! I had thought that by now I'd be writing a very different episode, something with substance. But unfortunately, there is nothing new. Today is two weeks since the surgery and only just this morning did the pathology report arrive at the surgeon's office. This has been a long wait and will continue until I hear from London with an appointment date. This week? Next week?
This has not been a good week. As calm as I may appear, I am getting tired of waiting. I've been doing a lot of sleeping which is to be expected recovering from surgery. Unfortunately, when I'm not sleeping, I'm generally feeling sorry for myself. Too restless to rest and to weary to put the restlessness to good use. Not a good combination.
The other night I had a dream that I was living in a glass house in the middle of the forest. I was standing in the middle of the living room watching a young deer walk by. All of a sudden, the deer bounded away. I knew there was only one reason for a deer to hurry so quickly: a wolf was near. I was worried because I knew I would see it through the glass (and vice versa) but I reminded myself that all the windows and doors were closed so I would be okay. I was wrong. The wolf came in through the open door and grabbed my arm. That's when I woke up. I think the symbolism of the wolf is fairly straight-forward. My arm hurts.
I am, however, a bit more perplexed about the glass house. There are two possibilities running through my mind. One, which I think is the more likely, is that I always felt somewhat secure in the idea that truly bad things only happen to "other people". I could be compassionate but from a convenient distance. Now, the glass house of my own immunity has been shattered. I've had to contemplate my mortality. It's not fun. I told my husband that I'm not comfortable with dark, small spaces. He thought I was joking but I wasn't. I've become "other people", the one everyone feels sorry for, the one for whom noone has the right words. I've seen the pity and the helplessness in their eyes, their desire to wave the magic wand and make it all better. But they can't. Noone can walk this for me.
Not so long ago, the lady from Episode 5 came to visit me after my surgery. I'm clinging to her words, "This is do-able." I hope she's right.
This has not been a good week. As calm as I may appear, I am getting tired of waiting. I've been doing a lot of sleeping which is to be expected recovering from surgery. Unfortunately, when I'm not sleeping, I'm generally feeling sorry for myself. Too restless to rest and to weary to put the restlessness to good use. Not a good combination.
The other night I had a dream that I was living in a glass house in the middle of the forest. I was standing in the middle of the living room watching a young deer walk by. All of a sudden, the deer bounded away. I knew there was only one reason for a deer to hurry so quickly: a wolf was near. I was worried because I knew I would see it through the glass (and vice versa) but I reminded myself that all the windows and doors were closed so I would be okay. I was wrong. The wolf came in through the open door and grabbed my arm. That's when I woke up. I think the symbolism of the wolf is fairly straight-forward. My arm hurts.
I am, however, a bit more perplexed about the glass house. There are two possibilities running through my mind. One, which I think is the more likely, is that I always felt somewhat secure in the idea that truly bad things only happen to "other people". I could be compassionate but from a convenient distance. Now, the glass house of my own immunity has been shattered. I've had to contemplate my mortality. It's not fun. I told my husband that I'm not comfortable with dark, small spaces. He thought I was joking but I wasn't. I've become "other people", the one everyone feels sorry for, the one for whom noone has the right words. I've seen the pity and the helplessness in their eyes, their desire to wave the magic wand and make it all better. But they can't. Noone can walk this for me.
Not so long ago, the lady from Episode 5 came to visit me after my surgery. I'm clinging to her words, "This is do-able." I hope she's right.
Monday, March 03, 2014
Episode 12: Bored
So it's been one week since surgery: Monday to Monday. The nurses are pleased. They say I'm healing really well and obviously had an excellent surgeon. My arm is sore. I could be taking more Tylenol. It does get a lot of exercise though since I'm left handed so that's good. I'm up and moving, making my own coffee, sitting on the sofa with the laptop. Today I'll wash up and do my hair (with help). Tomorrow, I see the surgeon for a follow-up and to find out the results of the pathology. Chemo? Radiation? Nothing? Who knows?
I heard about this one man who went to see his doctor. He said, "Doc, I'm in pain. When I touch my leg, it hurts. When I touch my arm, it hurts. When I touch my neck, it hurts." So the doctor ordered a bunch of tests and had the lab look at everything. After about a week, they called the man at home and said, "Well, we have the results of your tests. Your finger is broken."
Say goodnight, Gracie.
I heard about this one man who went to see his doctor. He said, "Doc, I'm in pain. When I touch my leg, it hurts. When I touch my arm, it hurts. When I touch my neck, it hurts." So the doctor ordered a bunch of tests and had the lab look at everything. After about a week, they called the man at home and said, "Well, we have the results of your tests. Your finger is broken."
Say goodnight, Gracie.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Episode 11: Cheering Squad
"... we understand ... Abel ... Enoch ... Noah ... Abraham ... Isaac ... Jacob ... Joseph ... Moses ... Jericho ... Rahab ... And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel ... Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, ... let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." (Hebrews) This passage was on my mind last week and it seemed rather relevant.
One of the interesting features of blogger.com is that it provides statistics, nothing terribly detailed, just some basics. For example, it tells me how many pageviews (besides my own) my episodes have had and from what countries. There are pageviews from Canada, the U.S., Germany, South Korea and the Ukraine. If I could take a globe and put a tack on each location would it look like a cheering squad around the world or a cloud of witnesses perhaps? I picture someone running a marathon and having spectators at the side cheering them on.
I have a dear friend who said, "Next time you are tempted to imagine that your "story is getting old", try to remember this: reading your blogs allows me to feel a tiny bit like I am walking this path by your side. Please let me do that." I can't even remember birthdays. Why would anyone want to be part of this? And yet, I am so grateful. I think about my cheering squad constantly. Everyday I check my stats and it's like, "Oh, look, someone's thinking about me!" My cousin said, "Just so you know, you are an inspiration to many and a source of strength." How is this possible? And, just for the record, the people in my cheering squad have been through way harder things than I'll ever know. They're teaching me, not the other way around.
Last night, I did some self-pitying simply because I can't imagine why people would give up their time just to tend to me:
- My daughter who helps me change my undies
- My husband who cringes every time I wince
- My other daughter who rubs my feet. (Poor thing. That wasn't even necessary. I just felt like getting a foot rub.)
- My third "daughter" who hardly even knows me but carries out my dishes
- The nurses who do all the really nasty stuff that make me pass out
- My sister who booked her plane ticket right away
- My sister-in-law who's taking her first weekend off to drive up and take care of me
- And so many others who through words or actions encourage and help; I am so so humbled.
A couple of years ago, I (with my family) went up north to teach at a very difficult school. I was ill-prepared for the stress and the animosity. One of the local teachers said to me, "The only way you're going to survive up here is if you stick up for yourself. No one else is going to do it for you." He was right. I grew a backbone and I survived (one year, barely). Now, less than two years later, I'm flat on my back completely dependent on the beneficence of others. What exactly is the lesson here? Could the lesson be that regardless of what life throws at us (and trust me, these are races that I did not choose) we will survive? Our lives are so much bigger and more eternal than we can imagine. From the time of Abel, we have a cloud of witnesses cheering us on, regardless of the race we've been given.
One of the interesting features of blogger.com is that it provides statistics, nothing terribly detailed, just some basics. For example, it tells me how many pageviews (besides my own) my episodes have had and from what countries. There are pageviews from Canada, the U.S., Germany, South Korea and the Ukraine. If I could take a globe and put a tack on each location would it look like a cheering squad around the world or a cloud of witnesses perhaps? I picture someone running a marathon and having spectators at the side cheering them on.
I have a dear friend who said, "Next time you are tempted to imagine that your "story is getting old", try to remember this: reading your blogs allows me to feel a tiny bit like I am walking this path by your side. Please let me do that." I can't even remember birthdays. Why would anyone want to be part of this? And yet, I am so grateful. I think about my cheering squad constantly. Everyday I check my stats and it's like, "Oh, look, someone's thinking about me!" My cousin said, "Just so you know, you are an inspiration to many and a source of strength." How is this possible? And, just for the record, the people in my cheering squad have been through way harder things than I'll ever know. They're teaching me, not the other way around.
Last night, I did some self-pitying simply because I can't imagine why people would give up their time just to tend to me:
- My daughter who helps me change my undies
- My husband who cringes every time I wince
- My other daughter who rubs my feet. (Poor thing. That wasn't even necessary. I just felt like getting a foot rub.)
- My third "daughter" who hardly even knows me but carries out my dishes
- The nurses who do all the really nasty stuff that make me pass out
- My sister who booked her plane ticket right away
- My sister-in-law who's taking her first weekend off to drive up and take care of me
- And so many others who through words or actions encourage and help; I am so so humbled.
A couple of years ago, I (with my family) went up north to teach at a very difficult school. I was ill-prepared for the stress and the animosity. One of the local teachers said to me, "The only way you're going to survive up here is if you stick up for yourself. No one else is going to do it for you." He was right. I grew a backbone and I survived (one year, barely). Now, less than two years later, I'm flat on my back completely dependent on the beneficence of others. What exactly is the lesson here? Could the lesson be that regardless of what life throws at us (and trust me, these are races that I did not choose) we will survive? Our lives are so much bigger and more eternal than we can imagine. From the time of Abel, we have a cloud of witnesses cheering us on, regardless of the race we've been given.
Episode 10: Post-Surgery
Today is Thursday. Surgery was on Monday and I finally feel like I have some sustained energy. So here I go. It's time to get some thoughts out of my head and on to paper. According to the surgeon, everything went really well and he took out everything he could see. We'll know next week what exactly that means but for now it's nice to relax. I'm doing very little thinking ahead, partly by choice but also quite a bit because it's just too much to absorb. I really am living one day at a time.
The hospital was great. The staff were fabulous. Everyone took such good care of me. The anesthetist asked me what kind of music I wanted so I sang for him, "I'm going down. I'm yelling timber." He didn't recognize it. Sadly, I also don't think he got the humour either. I was a little disappointed because the night that I stayed, I was in a room for four and I got almost no sleep. They said they do that on purpose. It makes people want to go home.
At home, people have been so great. Friends have been bringing me food and flowers. I asked my surgeon if I should be careful with what I eat. He said absolutely not. This is not the time to worry about it. I need to eat anything and everything I want, especially protein. See why I like him? My parents and children got the house ready and beautiful. My (and Neil's) bedroom was moved downstairs into the sunroom so I could have the washroom and kitchen right beside me. It's kind of funny. This sunroom should be bitterly cold right now. It literally is a sunroom, almost all windows, and at -17 degrees I should be very cold but I'm not. The surgery left me over-heated so I am the best person to be back here.
I think it's a pretty safe bet that I won't opt for reconstruction. Surgery is just not that much fun. I think I can learn to live with a new shape, a little lop-sided perhaps but not much. My problem right now is my arm. Because the surgeon went into the lymph nodes I'm kind of sore under there. As long as I don't move I don't notice but it does make sleeping and getting up for the washroom rather tenuous. The surgeon warned me that I'll likely never pitch for the Blue Jays. I told him that I could learn to live with that but I was more concerned with my career at Hooters. His answer was reconstructive surgery. I think not.
BTW, I have gotten some compliments about my positive attitude and such. Please don't be fooled. I'm not special. I just like to write when I'm happy or have energy but I also have my down times as well. When that happens, I just curl up under the covers and feel sorry for myself until I fall asleep. Writing this blog has helped me with all of this and knowing that you all care has been a great support.
That's a load off my chest.
The hospital was great. The staff were fabulous. Everyone took such good care of me. The anesthetist asked me what kind of music I wanted so I sang for him, "I'm going down. I'm yelling timber." He didn't recognize it. Sadly, I also don't think he got the humour either. I was a little disappointed because the night that I stayed, I was in a room for four and I got almost no sleep. They said they do that on purpose. It makes people want to go home.
At home, people have been so great. Friends have been bringing me food and flowers. I asked my surgeon if I should be careful with what I eat. He said absolutely not. This is not the time to worry about it. I need to eat anything and everything I want, especially protein. See why I like him? My parents and children got the house ready and beautiful. My (and Neil's) bedroom was moved downstairs into the sunroom so I could have the washroom and kitchen right beside me. It's kind of funny. This sunroom should be bitterly cold right now. It literally is a sunroom, almost all windows, and at -17 degrees I should be very cold but I'm not. The surgery left me over-heated so I am the best person to be back here.
I think it's a pretty safe bet that I won't opt for reconstruction. Surgery is just not that much fun. I think I can learn to live with a new shape, a little lop-sided perhaps but not much. My problem right now is my arm. Because the surgeon went into the lymph nodes I'm kind of sore under there. As long as I don't move I don't notice but it does make sleeping and getting up for the washroom rather tenuous. The surgeon warned me that I'll likely never pitch for the Blue Jays. I told him that I could learn to live with that but I was more concerned with my career at Hooters. His answer was reconstructive surgery. I think not.
BTW, I have gotten some compliments about my positive attitude and such. Please don't be fooled. I'm not special. I just like to write when I'm happy or have energy but I also have my down times as well. When that happens, I just curl up under the covers and feel sorry for myself until I fall asleep. Writing this blog has helped me with all of this and knowing that you all care has been a great support.
That's a load off my chest.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Episode 9: Update
Although I feel like my story is getting old and tired, I want to do another episode today just because it may be a couple of weeks before I'm ready for more or have any compelling messages. On Thursday, I go for the pre-surgery bloodwork and then on Monday the 24th I go for the actual surgery so this episode is dedicated to a few more thoughts and updates.
I got a couple of new reports from the doctor. The bone density scan came up with absolutely nothing. The doctor was surprised. He said they usually find something such as a fracture or arthritis but my bones are perfectly clean. What a relief. All those years of not skiing, skating, or jogging are paying off. Long live couch potatoes everywhere! The CT scan found a spot on my liver but that's apparently of no concern. Livers almost always show something. Busted! Maybe I have been drinking more than we thought. (Just kidding, Mom.)
I want to say thank you to those who have been reading my blogs. To know that people enjoy my writing is very rewarding and to be given kind words of encouragement to help me through this upcoming year is very appreciated. I feel very naive and rather humbled right now. I truly have no idea what's coming up and am not qualified to have an opinion. I quite expect that someday I will look back at these episodes and say, "Oh, what an idiot I was" but that's all part of the process, isn't it? Of course the student in grade 12 can smile knowingly at the child in grade 1 but we can't get to grade 12 until we've been through the others.
The other day, I googled "blogs about breast cancer". There were a lot. Most of them I didn't read because I didn't want to risk being depressed. I did, though, read about a lady who had been using Twitter to keep everyone updated about her progress but then she got in trouble from a couple of newspaper editors for tweeting too much. That struck me as odd. If you don't like it, wouldn't you just not follow? I joined facingcancer.ca. I think it's a project of Shopper's Drug Mart. I came across this gem of a quote: “On particularly rough days, when I’m sure I can’t possibly endure, I like to remind myself that my track record for getting through bad days so far is 100% and that’s pretty good.” http://www.facingcancer.ca/forums/viewthread/351#sthash.tbm9CNHf.dpuf And, on that happy note, I shall sign off,
Until next time, Dawn
I got a couple of new reports from the doctor. The bone density scan came up with absolutely nothing. The doctor was surprised. He said they usually find something such as a fracture or arthritis but my bones are perfectly clean. What a relief. All those years of not skiing, skating, or jogging are paying off. Long live couch potatoes everywhere! The CT scan found a spot on my liver but that's apparently of no concern. Livers almost always show something. Busted! Maybe I have been drinking more than we thought. (Just kidding, Mom.)
I want to say thank you to those who have been reading my blogs. To know that people enjoy my writing is very rewarding and to be given kind words of encouragement to help me through this upcoming year is very appreciated. I feel very naive and rather humbled right now. I truly have no idea what's coming up and am not qualified to have an opinion. I quite expect that someday I will look back at these episodes and say, "Oh, what an idiot I was" but that's all part of the process, isn't it? Of course the student in grade 12 can smile knowingly at the child in grade 1 but we can't get to grade 12 until we've been through the others.
The other day, I googled "blogs about breast cancer". There were a lot. Most of them I didn't read because I didn't want to risk being depressed. I did, though, read about a lady who had been using Twitter to keep everyone updated about her progress but then she got in trouble from a couple of newspaper editors for tweeting too much. That struck me as odd. If you don't like it, wouldn't you just not follow? I joined facingcancer.ca. I think it's a project of Shopper's Drug Mart. I came across this gem of a quote: “On particularly rough days, when I’m sure I can’t possibly endure, I like to remind myself that my track record for getting through bad days so far is 100% and that’s pretty good.” http://www.facingcancer.ca/forums/viewthread/351#sthash.tbm9CNHf.dpuf And, on that happy note, I shall sign off,
Until next time, Dawn
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