A little update for you all who are curious about making or reading comments on this blog.  Check out the new page at the top ‘stapled’ between the ABOUT and WALK4HOPE pages.  There is instruction about how to post/read comments.  Thank you so much for asking for this, and know that we love hearing from you.  You’ll all be bloggers yet!

As the dust settles from Monday’s little bomb, we are finding balance.  I am reminded every day that it is endurance I must pray/hope for, NOT certain results from the next test or scan.  We are chasing something we have no control over when we wish for the golden ticket.   I have had so many conversations with friends and loved ones recently for which I am very grateful.  We are being shown so much about our spirit with this experience.  You all are feeling every bump and continue to hold portions of this experience that we just cannot manage ourselves.  Your endurance is astounding.

We have agreed to show up at the hospital at noon Friday for a 1:30 surgery appointment.  They will host me for 23 hours if we feel I need to stay.  We also have the option to come home after recovery.  I have had conversations with my PCP, the oncologist and two with the surgeon over the past two days.  Oncologist answered lots of questions and basically said that her treatment recommendations are based on the national protocol for this stage of cancer, which is somewhere between 2b and 3a. 

I told the surgeon that I did not mean to be a pain with my calls, and her response was “you are the most painless patient I’ve ever had”.  How about that one.  She explained that she did not do a frozen section on the two nodes she took out because of their small size and squishiness.  She explained that the pathologist saw fibrosis in the nodes which apparently is the chemo affect on a cancer cell.  There was a lot of this, and that tells us that the chemo drugs used were effective.  Unfortunately there remained some individual cells in each node, and microscopic or not, they could be the host for another attack on my system if we don’t get them out.  It will be helpful to the oncologist in her planning for the next stage of this treatment to know the extent of the involvement of this bunch of nodes.  Surgeon  explained that the surgery room is booked for 2 hours because of the time it takes she and her assistants to identify and avoid the nerves in that area.  She will extract a triangular bunch of tissue in which the nodes are enveloped.  It’s the pathologist’s job to locate the grapes, as it were, in the tissue.  Surgeon will go into the healing incision to access this area, and will most likely take out the breast drain, so I will only have the arm pit drain to contend with for the next week or two.    PCP had not yet received the information from the pathologist, but she was able to understand my report, and was very supportive of the decision we have made. 

I continue to feel good most of the time.  I worked myself away from the pain meds fairly quickly and stopped the advil yesterday.  I’ve been given permission to work up to 30 hours a week at my discression, home or in the office, and am grateful to be able to do that as I feel up to it.  Obviously recovery from this next procedure will take precident.

9 days post mastectomy I am feeling good about the decision not to get reconstruction right away.  The area where my breast was is very numb.  When I put my hand over it, I am feeling my heart very strongly with no interference from the breast tissue, it’s really an interesting sensation for me.  I do not want anything there right now.  I’ve been wearing B’s flannel shirts a lot since last week, and in addition to feeling like lumberjack woman, I am comforted by knowing his shirt is wrapped around me.  (I’m hooked, what can I say?) I do not think I’m feeling self conscious about the shape of my body, but it’s easy in this cooler weather to camouflage that if it were important to me.  It’s sort of like how I feel about having no hair, wearing hats and doo rags works this time of year and I’m nice and warm.   I have started having what I call  rookie warm flashes.  I was told that I may go into menopause, and I may go out of menopause, and no one really knows how to judge what will happen.  SO I’m just prepared by not wearing stuff I cannot shed quickly. My big sisters who are experienced at having power surges think it’s cute when I whip my hat off and shed layers, and are sharing great bits of wisdom about managing such things.  I have not worked up to being hot enough during one of these for people to warm their hands around me like a camp fire, but I’m working on that. 

At this point I’m getting familiar with the surgery procedure and feel fine about the anesthesia tomorrow.  Again, that idea of closing my eyes one minute and opening them the next in the recovery room fascinates me.  I’m sorry people who will be thinking about me during that period of time cannot join me in lala land.  We know the ponies will be swirling all around us.