One year later

well, well, well - a year ago today was my 2nd of 3 operations, the one I lovingly refer to as the "good news/bad news" surgery. It was an axillary node dissection - in non-doctor terms that means that Dr. Chang went back in and removed a clump of lymph nodes from under my arm. (I asked why it couldn't be done with arthroscopic/robotic (DaVinci) surgery and she looked at me like I was crazy. Well...why not? I have this image of her taking a big huge spoon in there to scoop out the lymph nodes but logically believe it can be a more specific procedure. What do I know.)

The good news: no cancer in the 15-20 lymph nodes, the bad news: the surgery was not really necessary. HOWEVER, if I had not had the surgery, I would have had to have chemo to make sure there was no cancer in these lymph nodes. So the balance goes to the GOOD news side.

After the beauty contest for oncology doctors (the first doctor told me nutrition did not play any role in the process, the second doctor said that cancer loves sugar - which encouraged me to stop having any until after my first surgery at least! - one of the doctors worked at a place that seemed like Disneyland for cancer, and the USC doctor who was in pole position going into the final lap made us wait over an hour), I am happy to have chosen Dr. Glaspy another Bruin(!). He made us laugh when he walked in the room the first time and prints his email address on his business card.

Based on the results from the mastectomy and axillary node dissection, there was no clear recommendation from either Glaspy or Chang with regard to chemo or radiation. There were pros and cons to both (i.e. whether or not to have these protocols), and in the end, I chose not to do either. So it's tamoxifen once a day for 5 years, and I'm on my own daily regimen of vitamin C ("Cancer and Vitamin C: A Discussion of the Nature, Causes, Prevention, and Treatment of Cancer With Special Reference to the Value of Vitamin C" Linus Pauling and Ewan Cameron. http://www.bronsonvitamins.com/84A/vitamin-c-crystals-buffered )

It took 6 months to work through physical therapy and regain full motion in my arm, after concerns of frozen shoulder freaked me out and I worried about never being able to use it again. It's now 95% recovered, and only annoys me when touched.

Oh. I really love my hair, even if I'm going gray.

Annus Horribilis

Let's review: December 18th, 2009 - I break my leg. March 1st, 2010 - cancer diagnosis. May 5th, 2010 - mastectomy. May 27th, 2010 - axillary node dissection. June 2nd, 2010 - husband's emergency retina re-attachment surgery. October 6th, 2010 - dog run over by a car (she miraculously survived). October 11th, 2010 - cataract surgery #1 to finish fixing husband's eye. October 12th, 2010 - 9-1-1 in the middle of the night for him, thinking he was having a heart attack, nope, just a bad reaction to the anesthesia. October 15th, 2010 - cataract surgery #2, because the cataract rotated.

Needless to say - thank God we made it past our 'annus horibilis'!

2nd Opinion

After a lengthy delay before seeing the surgeon yesterday, I had high hopes for my 7:20a appointment this morning when the doctor actually came out in to the reception area and was happy to see that I was on time, and commented about how it was important to not get behind early on. At 7:47a, I started to lose the love I had already committed to her, and by 8:25 when she showed up, I had to start all over again.

While waiting, I played spider solitaire for awhile, admired the art on the wall of my patient room, and finally helped myself to a blanket. Not to steal...just to keep me warm. Surprising that my blood boiling from the wait didn't do the trick there. Oh, and I seriously contemplated removing the painter's tape from the ceiling. I was really bored.

So when the doctor did show up, with student doctor in tow, I was relieved. The physical exam she gave seemed much more thorough than the previous oncologist and surgeon, and she didn't look at me like I was crazy when I explained my 'no chemo' mantra. I asked her about cryoablation, and she explained that it is not a curative procedure. In the cases where it was used, it did not get all the cancer.

So here's today's plan*: I am going to proceed down the mastectomy path. Once that surgery is completed, then we will know if any of the cancer has spread and what type of follow-on treatment is really required. From what all the doctors have said, I have a slow-growing cancer, it's called "Invasive Ductal" something and is the most common breast cancer.

I am also seeing my acupuncturist - hoping for great things from the body work, too.

The worst news of all: cancer loves sugar. Yes, you read that right. WHAT the WHAT?!



* I reserve the right to change my mind tomorrow, or the next day...

p.s.

and I think menopause has set in as well...hot flashes decided to join in the party last night.

It's my turn...unfortunately

Suffice to say I've been meaning to start this for a few weeks now, the cancer diagnosis being the catalyst. Having lost my dad and brother to cancer years ago, mine was pretty much expected.

I'm three weeks in to the diagnosis ("MALIGNANT" and "CANCER" neon signs flashing in my head non-stop). What I found surprising is that on the day my 'nurse navigator' informed me of the diagnosis/bad news, she handed me a piece of paper with three things to do:

1. schedule the MRI
2. schedule appointment with the surgeon
3. schedule appointment with the oncologist

Now, if you don't know much about cancer, you do as told, right?

But this made no sense to me: why would I see a surgeon before talking to the cancer doctor about what is wrong and discussing the treatment options (and especially whether or not surgery is even in the mix)? I booked the oncologist first.

And now I need to research the alternatives - anything I can do to avoid chemo. So far, I'm looking into the Gerson Institute and cryoablation. And in that research found out that my second opinion doctor is an advocate of the latter...halleflippinlujah.