Have a nice day...SIR?!

I realize I haven't written a "cancery" post in a while and there are people out there in need of an update, so here is the quick crap that wasn't quick and dirty.

Last Monday, I met with the plastic surgeon about reconstruction surgery. I left the appointment completely pissed off. Honestly I am not really ready to process it all or write about it right now, but basically I am just mad that I even have to be DISCUSSING these so called "options". I don't want to think about it. I like my boobs the way they are. They are perky and bouncy. They are in the correct spot and they are just the right size. They did their darndest to feed my boys and they look pretty good in most clothes. I am not meeting with the surgeon because I am choosing to change the way I look or to improve the way I feel about myself. I am meeting with the surgeon because I am essentially going to be having an amputation {or 2}. Sorry if that sounds "ugly" or "harsh", but that's what it is. It's not pretty, it's not going to make me feel good about myself, I'm not going to walk out of there ready to "show off my new girls", it's just not going to happen that way. Am I thankful that I have the opportunity to fight this disease? Yes. Am I thankful that such amazing surgeons work with the hospital? Yes. Am I completely confident in their abilities? Yes. Do I like them as people and professionals? Yes. But, that doesn't mean I have to rejoice in the fact that I have to do this. It makes me so angry, and that's okay.

Last Friday, I had my 6th treatment of Abraxane and Herceptin. Which marks the halfway point in the first leg of my treatment plan. My counts were good, well, I don't actually know what they were because I have requested not to see the actual numbers, but if they were good enough to get treatment, then they were "good" enough for me. I came home after treatment cleaned the house, had a run on the treadmill and then took a nice bath and prepared for our big 3rd birthday celebration weekend. Because of the birthday weekend, I decided that I was going to have a bit of a "cancer holiday", basically meaning I wasn't going to look anything up on the internet or talk about cancer unless asked a specific question. It went well except for a couple of minor internet slips, and they were truly minor.  It felt good to do that and I have decided that really I don't need to be looking things up on the interwebs at all. When it's time to research things, I will research, but for now I have the information I need.

TOMORROW morning I have an ultrasound of my breast and axilla {armpit} to see how the primary tumor and nodes are responding. To say that I am nervous about this would be a bit of an understatement. I know that the treatments are working, I can FEEL that they are working, but I don't know how well EXACTLY. I am not excited to lay on that hard table. I am not excited to see the dark blob that is "TFBBc" up on the monitor. I am not excited to hear the clicking and clacking as measurements are recorded. I am not excited to see that the lymph nodes I can still feel are still detectable on the screen as well. That little ultrasound room holds a lot of fear for me, I just don't like it. Again, I KNOW that treatments are working, but I still have fear of the things I DON'T know. In addition to the ultrasound, I will meet with Dr. K's nurse practitioner and then have treatment {as long as my counts are good}.

So, if you would like to know where to send your energy this week, here you go:

1. That TFBBc is being eradicated from my body NEVER to return again! {obviously}
2. That my counts are excellent so that treatment can proceed as planned.
3. That my side effects remain minimal so that I can continue to GET BUSY LIVING!
4. That the ultrasound shows significant shrinkage in the primary tumor AND the nodes and that there are no surprises. I'm not a fan of surprises.
5. That I can feel some peace {even if it's xanax induced} going into the ultrasound and also when thinking about the surgery scenarios.
6. That I remember to stay off the interwebs and GET BUSY LIVING!

You know I don't like to end these updates with a stressed out feeling, so today I am going to end with a little funny story and, of course, a picture of my sweet boys.

Yesterday, the boys and I headed to the zoo for the first time since the week of my horrible MRI biopsy. I decided that I needed a boost in order to keep up with their energy for the day, so headed to the McDonald's drive through for some iced coffee. I was wearing one of my "flapper hats" {navy blue with a white flower clipped to the side} and sunglasses {the big kind that have been in style for a while}. When I got up to the window to get my drink, the young man working the window said, "Hey man, how you doing?" to which I replied with a smile, in my very girly Minnie Mouse voice no less, "GREAT thanks!", he then handed me my drink and said, "Thanks SIR, have a nice day!". Umm......SIR?!?! Good lord. I thought he had said "man" in his greeting, but I thought, nah, SURELY he said "mam", but that SIR sure made it clear! Haha, oh well, at least he didn't call me "bro" and now the title of this post makes sense, right? :~)

As promised, a picture of my sweet guys from our trip to the zoo yesterday:

Sweet brothers.

Three Years

Three years ago today our sweet boys got their first glimpse of the world. The first sounds they heard, the first sights they saw, the first touches they felt were all amidst the chaotic efficiency that is an emergency c-section. Fluorescent lights, rushing feet, warming beds, suction, air, determined helpers and hopefully the voices of mom and dad asking, "Is he alright?" "Why isn't he crying?", these were their first experiences. Two and one-half months early, but still I was happy they were on "the outside", that they were now in the hands of trained professionals and no longer trapped within a body that I felt had betrayed them, betrayed me. I felt relieved and I felt happy, really, incredibly indescribably, happy.

Emmett Joseph arrived first at 3:38am. He cried as soon as he tasted the air and the doctor said he FIERCELY grabbed her hand during the delivery. She was amazed that he was blonde, I guess they don't see many blonde babies. :~) Matt and I came up with the boys' names in about 5 minutes {a few weeks before they were born}, however, I guess we never discussed the spelling of their names as after Matt followed the boys to the NICU, he came back to show me their birth stats written on a crunchy hospital paper towel, Emmett's name was spelled "wrong", well, wrong compared to how I had it in my mind {I would also like to state that Emmett peed on me 5 seconds after that photo was taken!}:

Mommy holding Emmett. The Napkin of Misinformation. Daddy holding Owen.

 Owen William followed his brother at 3:39am. He was born silent. I don't know if it was 30 seconds or 3-minutes before he cried, but I know it felt like an eternity. That was my only real moment of panic during the delivery, but he did cry and he certainly hasn't shut up since. :~) Matt and I believe that the "Napkin of Misinformation" also includes another glaring mistake. We believe that the boys' lengths were switched as not one measurement since has ever showed Owen being longer than his brother, sorry buddy. :~)

I can't believe it's been three years. I can't believe how much we have learned from these sweet boys. That first day of their life was just bliss. I am sure that seems weird to say since it was also traumatic and chaotic and they were in the NICU hooked up to all kinds of crap, but it was. They were, and are, the most beautiful little boys I have ever seen, wires and all. Just gorgeous. Seriously, I am not really sure how God made them so perfect. How did He know that they were the perfect little boys for us? It's amazing how they have grown my heart and helped to heal my soul.

I feel like I have SO much more I want to say, but honestly, if I spilled all of the lyrics in my heart's song for these boys, this post would never end because this is forever love. Forever. 

So instead, here are some pictures. My how these sweet boys have grown!

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Fireworks, Chemo and Some Good News

It's been a week since my "Get Busy Living" post and LIVING is exactly what we have been doing! 

Last Thursday was the 4th of July, I know I mentioned that I may make the day kind of symbolic by "gaining my independence from my hair and setting it free into the wild", however when I woke up that morning, I wasn't quite ready to part with it and I am fairly certain Hubs wasn't ready to help me. So we kept the hair another day, and I am okay with that. What we DID do on July 4th was: take a long bike ride, have a picnic at the park, throw rocks in the lake, take a nice long afternoon nap, go to my parent's house for a typical 4th of July dinner, ride carnival rides and OF COURSE enjoy fireworks {I say enjoy, but the boys were terrified of the fireworks we purchased and one of them "watched" the professional show with his eyes closed!}. It was a good day. A top day, for sure.

Fourth of July festivities. Baby-O was NOT impressed by the fireworks, he swears he saw them though. ;~)

On the 5th of July, I woke up to the blatant message that there was no way I was going to be keeping my hair for much longer. I asked Hubs if he would go out on the deck and give me a nice military buzz cut. He was not excited about helping me do this {of course}, he asked me if I could do it myself {I couldn't} and then he went on to say that this is "not something any husband ever thinks he is going to have to do for his wife" {he's right I am sure}. Out of all of the worries I spoke of last week, the ones still on my mind were that it would scare the boys for me to be without my hair, and that I wouldn't like what I saw when I looked into the mirror. I made the decision to be upbeat and involve the boys, not with the cutting of my hair, but with the "releasing it into the wild". It was really important to me that my hair be spread around the back yard in hopes that maybe some of the birds could use it in their nests, so the boys did that. Those of you who really know me know how much I love nature and I am sure you can understand how that made me feel a bit better. After "the clipping" Baby-E told me that I "have nice hair like daddy now", so I am not sure what that says about my hair BEFORE, but oh well, at least it didn't seem to phase them at all. ;~) As for what I see in the mirror, it's still a shock. I look like me, but a different version of myself. I feel like I look "harder" somehow. Or maybe it's that I look like I am prepared for battle? I don't know. If you are wondering if there is going to be a picture of this new impermanent look, there is not, at least not right now. I feel better wearing my "flapper" hats or my wig; I feel like I look more like me. Right now I am just not brave enough to broadcast my buzzed head to the world. I say that, but I DID go for a nice long run the other night without any head-covering. But that wasn't really brave either, quite honestly, I had an "I can't breathe I am going to die" panic attack at the beginning of my run - the likes of which I haven't experienced since the boys' water broke 2.5 months early, but it passed quickly and then I decided that most people probably thought I was CHOOSING to have my hair like this, so I ran on. Go me. That's right, I just cheered for myself.

Friday the 5th also marked my 4th treatment in the Abraxane/ Herceptin leg of my clinical trial. It was also my first during treatment appointment with Dr. K. The visit with the K-ster was quick, but ultimately a GREAT visit. So here is the good news, the primary tumor in my breast is NO LONGER DETECTABLE BY PALPATION!!!!! It was almost 3 cm by palpation before {2.5 cm on MRI} so this is just SUCH great news!!! I knew that it was going down, but I didn't want to say anything, even to Hubs, until it had come out of the doctor's mouth. It's great to know that the medicine is doing it's job and that this GI Jane look will ultimately be worth it. We can still feel the lymph nodes {there are 2 that are palpable}, but I am told that they sometimes take longer to go down even if the cancer inside them is being destroyed. I don't like that I can still feel them, but Dr. K is very pleased with the progress so far. In case you are wondering if this means less chemo for me, it does not, darn. Honestly though, I want the book thrown at this ugly little invader. I want it DESTROYED FOR GOOD! Another piece of good news is that I got the results back from my BRCA test {evil cancer gene} and they are negative!!! Waaaa Hoooo!!!! This doesn't mean a whole lot for me since I am still 35 with breast cancer, but it does mean that I didn't pass that gene onto my boys, that my mom likely doesn't have it, and that my brother doesn't have it to pass on to his daughter, so that's a big big sigh of relief. My side effects have remained super manageable {praying that they stay that way} and my white counts even went up a teeny bit from the last time I saw them, so all in all it was a good news day. The day was made even better by getting to celebrate Independence Day a SECOND time at my in-laws house. I love the 4th {5th} of July. :~)

This week's thought/ prayer guidance:

1. That the cancer is being ERADICATED FROM MY BODY FOR GOOD!!! {of course}
2. That my cell counts stay within the normal range so that treatment can proceed as planned.
3. That my lymph nodes start to SHRINK as the cancer inside them is being destroyed.
4. That my side effects remain manageable, we have a few of VERY important birthdays coming up and mama doesn't want to miss anything. :~)
5. That I continue to remember my mantra to "GET BUSY LIVING"!!!

Thank you ALL so much for your continued love and support!

Get Busy Living!

A new friend, let's call her Shelley-2 {how weird is it that I have met two totally awesome Shelleys{ies?} <---not sure what the plural is for that, in the past month!?} sent me a link to a site selling t-shirts which basically instruct you to get off your butt, have your breakdown, then your breakthrough and GET BUSY LIVING!!! So I have been trying super hard to make that my new mantra. Sitting around feeling sorry for myself and perusing Google {even if it IS for inspirational stories} does absolutely nothing except steal Joy from today and ultimately, allowing myself to be robbed of Joy won't change a darn thing in the long run, well, except I will be miserable right now, which is just stupid, so I am done with that. :~)

I am bringing this up now because last Thursday was hard for me, darn hard {see there Mom, I watched my language}. My hair started falling out. I knew it was coming, I thought I had prepared myself for it, but I suppose nothing was really going to prepare me for when it ACTUALLY happened. I pretty much shut down for the day, just sat there thinking about how this would be the first thing that would really make me look like a cancer patient and how I would now likely be getting "the look" from everyone everywhere I went. I did a lot of worrying that day. I worried that my head would be shaped funny. I worried that people would now see how far my ears really DO stick out, which is the reason I never wear dangling earrings . I worried that I certainly wouldn't be one of those people who rock the "bald is beautiful" look. It's not like I have amazing hair or anything, but I just can't really see myself as being cute bald {despite what a guy I worked with said in like 1999, why in the world do I remember that?}. I worried that the boys would be afraid of me if I didn't have hair, they are so observant at the tender age of almost 3. I worried that people might be embarrassed to be seen with me or, even worse, that they would just pity me and feel sorry for me and be sad at me, yes AT me, please don't be sad at me. I worried that I would be embarrassed about how I look, because I AM already embarrassed, which I know is weird, but I am, to be going through this at all. So much worrying. Pointless, but necessary I suppose. It didn't help matters that I really had no plan in place for when the hair did come out. Meaning, I had no wig, no scarves, no hats, no wraps, no nothing, just the promise of a bald head. Being caught off guard really did a number on my psyche, that's for sure.

So I rallied and had one of my circle, Stacie, call and make me a wig appointment - AND - she volunteered to go with me for support and fashion/ hair advice! Another member of my circle, Stephanie, also volunteered to come along for the hair show. I guess I should have been more clear with them about what we were going for because I think they both thought they were going to have to endure the trauma of watching me have my head shaved, which did not happen. I am currently holding on to what I have and thinking maybe Independence Day would be a GREAT day to release my hair into the wild. :~) I actually had fun trying on wigs, Linda, the wig lady was amazing and the second wig I tried on was so obviously the right one. It was pretty quick and painless. I found a wig plus a few hats and then we had cupcakes after, so you can't really beat that.

Looks totally natural, right!?

In other GET BUSY LIVING news, Friday night we spent time with family who were in town for my cousin's baseball tournament. We enjoyed pizza and AMAZING weather. It's always nice spending time with that portion of the ol' family. Saturday, the hubs, the boys and I headed for another trip to the lake. I love it there. I really just felt calm and happy all weekend, especially on our Saturday night boat ride where we saw pretty much the most gorgeous rainbow I have ever seen in my life. Actually, it was just a little tidbit of a rainbow, hanging out in a big thunderhead, but you could see each of it's colors I'm talking ALL of Roy G. Biv {remember that from elementary science?}!!! Seriously, best rainbow nugget I have ever seen and that makes five rainbows I have seen in the past month, five, compared to the maybe ONE I have seen over the past 5 years! I only wish I had had my camera, although, it probably would have ended up in the lake.

All ma' boys fishin'. I would like to point out that I was the only one who actually caught a fish {illegally}. haha.

And finally, I finished number 3 of 12 {that's 1/4 of the way through!!} of the Abraxane/ Herceptin leg of my treatment cycle. I have, thankfully, been feeling pretty good and trying to carry on with life as usual. The nurses seem somewhat shocked that I am still running and such, which is weird to me since they TOLD me to exercise, but oh well, I'm going to keep it up while I can, that's for sure! My white counts did drop again {boo}, which freaks me out because I feel fine. I guess I thought I would know if they were dropping. So, again, if you want to know where you can direct thoughts prayers this week, here is your charge:

1. That the cancer is being eradicated from my body and is NEVER going to return {of course}.
2. That my white counts stay within the normal range so that I can continue with treatment as planned.
3. That I remember my new mantra and GET BUSY LIVING!!!!

Thanks in advance for all of your prayers/ thoughts/ energy.

Now, go out there, enjoy your holiday {tomorrow} and GET BUSY LIVING!!!