And it all falls down...

As I washed my hair and blew it dry today, fistfuls of hair fell out into my hands. It made me sad. I wanted to cry. It is so hard to be at the mercy of the chemo drug. I had to keep turning the blow-dryer off to gather the hair off my hands and throw it into the garbage. Eventually, I gave up. Most of my hair was dry. I ended up putting my hair in a pony-tail or I would be shedding hair all day and it would be all over me and the house.  At least this way, when I brush my hair I can gather all the fallen pieces at one time. I sleep with my hair in a pony-tail or I suspect it would be all over my pillow and bed. I go for my next chemo treatment in a couple hours. I would imagine that over the next two or three days, the rest of the hair will fall out.  Our family is going to have a head-shaving party in a day or two - Derek and Ry as well in a show of solidarity. We will definitely get that family picture! I think a few tears will be shed then, as it all falls down around me...

Some good news...

We went to my chemo doctor today for my pre-chemo appointment. My white blood cell count is great! The really good news is that my tumour has shrunk a little bit - about a centimetre! It is also a little softer. I have recovered well from my first treatment and am ready for my second one tomorrow! 

I have begun to lose my hair though. So sad about that. Small price to pay though...

Like, holy cow...

I guess I am naïve in many ways. Maybe it’s just that I had no reason to know all the ins and outs and all the in between stuff about breast cancer. I certainly know a whole lot more now, especially about chemotherapy and the lead-up to chemotherapy with all the tests that need to be concluded. I feel like I can actually talk about it with some authority now. For me, breast cancer is going to be a four-step process.

1.    Chemotherapy

2.    Surgery

3.    Radiation

4.    Reconstruction

This is different for anyone with breast caner. It depends on the receptors (+/-) genetics, how big the tumor is, where the tumor is, lymph nodes, a wide array of indicators play into the process order and steps taken. Now that I am in the midst of chemotherapy, I thought I would look ahead (remember, I am a need-to-know type person) at what surgery means and what reconstruction entails.  Holy cow! I am naïve. I thought that a mastectomy meant that the surgeon would go in, under the skin and basically ‘scoop’ out what is under the breast skin.  Nope. That is still more like a lumpectomy (which it typically done when the surgeon is removing one third or less of the breast).  A mastectomy is where the surgeon actually takes the breast, nipple and all, and you are left with the breast-bone.  I think a double-mastectomy is obvious then – both breasts, completely gone, including the nipple. Wow! I had no idea. I started to look into what reconstruction meant then. It is not at all like getting implants.  Because the surgeon has taken all the breast, skin and all, there is no place to put implants.  The surgeon has to reconstruct a breast. An insert is put in and over a period of time (between three to six months) saline solution gets injected slowly into the insert to begin to stretch the skin.  Eventually when the skin as been stretched enough, an implant is added.  There are also other ways of creating a breast. Tissue can be taken from the abdomen, buttocks, and thighs to ‘fill’ the breast. This is usually done with people that have excess tissue. Once this part is complete, a nipple can be reconstructed through a series of grafting and ‘twisting’ techniques. They also add nipples as a tattoo. From reading, the reconstruction part will take as long as the chemo, surgery and radiation put together. Like I said, holy cow!

Back to normal...

It's Saturday, December 27th. I feel good. I feel back to my old self. I am sleeping well (provided I stay on top of the heartburn), I have most if not all of my energy back, I still have all of my hair, my heart no longer feels like it is going to beat right out of my chest, nor do I feel as though I am going to have a heart attack, my lungs feel as though I can take full, deep breaths and I don't have to walk any slower due to my heart or my lungs. Like I said, I feel good.  Just in time for the next round of chemo on Tuesday. So much for New Year's Eve this year!

Not so special after all...

When Derek and I travelled to Sunnybrook to listen to what they had to say, they gave us the impression that what they offered there, we couldn't get elsewhere. Wrong! Lakeridge has offered and been every bit as helpful as we feel Sunnybrook would have been. Lakeridge also has an online tool that helps us to keep our appointments straight. It's called 'Your Portal'. I am given my own identification code and password so I can login from anywhere and view my appointment calendar. One thing Sunnybrook does offer that Lakeridge doesn't (I wish they did), is that all your results are posted online for you so that you can print off any report you want. You don't have to ask for any copies of the reports - they are right there for you. I don't have a nurse assigned to me at Lakeridge to oversee all my appointments and to make the phone calls for me, but I haven't really felt the need at this point. As I go along, the appointments i need are already being scheduled by the doctor's or the nurses. Not sure why I would need another nurse following me around. The idea and thought is nice, but maybe not so necessary. Sunnybrook also felt really old (I know that shouldn't matter) and Lakeridge feels brand-new and dare I say, cheerful. I know, weird thing to say about a hospital but they did a great job designing the Cancer Centre. The chemo centre is circular in shape and state-of-the-art. Each room has it's own television, a big, comfy chair that relaxes back into a bed (like a hospital version of a giant Lazy-Boy), and chairs for the person you bring with you (not quite as comfortable but they certainly aren't plastic tub chairs). You aren't in a hospital bed and the room is really bright but doesn't have the clinical, cold feel to it. We have the option of going to Sunnybrook for surgery, radiation and reconstructive surgery (any or all of them) but I have a feeling we might just stay where we are. I think we've made out just fine at Lakeridge!

Cleaning me up...

The home care nurse came by. She will come to the house each week that I don't have chemotherapy to change the dressing for my PICC line. I have a bandage about six inches long and four inches wide covering and surrounding my PICC line. It needs to be changed weekly and cleaned with alcohol wipes. The cleaning frickin' burns. The alcohol wipes burn the skin around the PICC line and right where the PICC line comes out of my arm. It also hurts the surrounding area. I was happy Ry wasn't in the room when the nurse did the cleaning. I might have said 'mother-trucker' once or twice. Once the alcohol dried, she changed all the bandages and the caps on the end of the PICC line where they draw blood from. This PICC line is such a pain in the ass. You can't get it wet. I miss my showers so much. Bathing sucks. It makes me so cold because I can't submerge myself in water and washing my hair sucks because I don't feel like I can get it clean enough. This nurse taught me a little trick though. If I wrap the bandaged area in the Saran Press 'n Seal wrap and put an elastic at the top and bottom of the wrap, I could have quick showers! Yippee!!! I am now speed-showering. Still better than not showering at all!

I love you to the moon and back...

My husband has been the best husband anyone could ever hope for. He has been caring, helpful, positive, concerned, my rock. He has been to each and every appointment, holding my hand, wiping tears, laughing and joking with me, keeping me smiling. He was definitely paying attention when he took our vows, 'in good times and bad, in sickness and in health'. He has been everything I could have ever wanted or needed, especially in this tough time.

My little guy is going out of his way to try to make me smile. I am getting so many more random hugs and pecks on the cheek. I love when out of the blue he just tells me that he loves me. Nothing will ever make a mother smile more then hearing her little guy say 'I love you, Mommy'.

Merry Christmas to my two special guys! xo

Oh the food...

The heartburn - it sucks! This was something that no one told me about. When I did some reading, I found out that it is very common. I have had heartburn for the last two days - straight through! All night, all day. It is definitely worse in the evening and through most of the night but it never really goes away. I've never really had heartburn before. Maybe a little when I was pregnant but only when I ate homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. It is constant now, no matter what I eat. I called the nurse to see if it was okay to take Tums, or Zantac, something like that and to find out if this was normal. Yup! Totally normal and very common. I can take any of the above and the next time I see the doctor (Monday) I can ask the doctor for a prescription, something a little stronger. Looks like I will be taking Zantac and living on Tums for the next five days.

By the way, no hair loss yet! Yay! I'll have all my hair for Christmas and Christmas pictures! Another positive!

Some troubles...

I know that the day is approaching that I am going to lose all of my hair. I had asked Riley what he would think if I were to shave my head. He told me that he thought it was going to be 'cool'! We joked and laughed that we would all have the same haircut (him, Daddy and I).  He thought that was pretty funny. About a week later he told me that he thought maybe I might look 'weird'. Maybe I shouldn't shave my head. Uh oh. Today, Derek and I went to pick up my wig in preparation for the next two to seven days, when I would lose my hair for certain. Riley told me he was nervous to see my head shaved and to see my wig. He was scared that I wouldn't look like 'Mom'. I got my wig out to show him. It is essentially the same colour hair I currently have and very close to the same length and style. He seemed okay with that. I'll be honest, I'm as nervous as Riley about seeing me bald. I'm having some trouble sleeping well because I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and all my hair is going to be on my pillow. I've only cried twice in this whole process, but I have a feeling I may cry the day my hair begins to fall out. Hair is part of your identity as a woman. It takes a long time to grow back and won't even start to grow until two to three months after I finish chemo. I am definitely having some troubles with this hurdle...

Chemotherapy precautions...

Chemotherapy is so potent and so poisonous that there are many precautions that all patients (and family members) should take.
• flush any toilet twice that you use for the first 48 hours after chemotherapy. 
• two forms of birth control should be used while on chemotherapy and for six months afterwards.
• all soiled laundry or linens with any bodily fluids (after the first 48 hours) should be handled with gloves and washed separately from other clothing. These items should be kept separately in their own garbage bag until they can be washed.
• if chemotherapy or body waste touches skin, immediately wash thoroughly with soap and water.
• when cleaning the bathroom in particular, you should wear gloves to avoid any inadvertent exposure to chemotherapy.

Round 1: Lisa 1 Chemo 0...

I am finally coming out the other side and feeling better. I'm still tired but I feel good today. I no longer feel like I am walking around with a bad case of the flu. My chest is still heavy (like if you had pneumonia or bronchitis). I feel next to normal though. I even wanted to leave the house today. I know I have many more days ahead with many more side-effects and lengthier bouts of feeling like garbage so I will take this great day!

Gotta think positive...

There are a lot of negative things that come from chemotherapy. 
• You are basically putting poison into your body. You will lose your hair - all of it including on your head, all over your body and your eyebrows. 
• You begin to experience a loss of appetite. 
• Your organs work overtime and at times this is very uncomfortable. 
• The PICC line really sucks - it's uncomfortable, itchy and gets in the way. Your body is achy and cold. 
• Any cuts you get take a long time to clot and stop bleeding (even the smallest of cuts).
• The heartburn is constant and dreadful. 
• Chemo dries out your skin - have a heavy-duty moisturizer for your face, hands and feet.

There are some positives though (yes, I am searching here a bit but it does help to think of anything positive in this process). 
• I have discovered that I have more friends than I ever knew I had and they each care about me and my family a lot. 
• It's only going to take me 15 minutes to get ready now that I don't have to do my hair. 
• I won't have to shave my legs. 
• I don't have the strength to do any heavy lifting and I'm not supposed to try (sorry Derek). 
• My hair won't get messy in the wind or rain. 
• I can add to my extensive wardrobe with scarves and hats now. 
• I have now entered into a pseudo menopause - no more periods!
• Because chemo dries your skin out, try to avoid washing dishes.

This pros and cons list will continue to evolve as I go through with my chemotherapy.  Check back for any additions...

Thinking one thing, doing another...

I woke up today feeling pretty good. I had a good sleep (no feeling like I was having a heart attack moments). I was moving around better than yesterday and feeling a bit better than yesterday. A wonderful colleague came by today to drop off many care packages from staff and parents (I cannot thank these people enough for caring about myself an my family as much as they do). Derek and I went back to the hospital today for a pelvic ultrasound.  I went there thinking that it was for the benign tumor that I found out I had last year at this time. No, I was going to have the cyst on my left ovary checked out. I had forgotten all about that.  Shit. The nurses were super nice. I was freezing (the chemo does that to you - constant chills) so they got me a heated blanket. The nurse talked to me a little during the ultrasound, questioning me as to what exams I had been through, chemo or surgery first, that kind of thing. Although she really isn't supposed to (and she will remain nameless), she told me that she didn't want me to have to wait for my results with everything I am going through. She told me I had nothing to worry about and that it was a water cyst.  I almost cried. I had gone in thinking I was having an ultrasound for something completely different. Then when I figured out what the ultrasound was for, I thought I was going to have to wait out the results, yet again. Nurse, thanks for putting me out of my misery and making my day! Nothing to worry about, for a change! By the time I got home, I was completely knackered (that's for those of you who like to read English chick lit - I love that word). But I still felt so much better than yesterday.  Definitely not myself (not by a long shot) and sluggish for the rest of the day, but so much better. Bedtime for me is still close to 8pm...

So they say...

So they say that the first twenty-four hours after chemotherapy actually isn't too bad. It's the two or three days after day one that is a bit rougher. They are right. I was pretty good for the first twenty-four hours. Then I started to feel so different. So strange. I got the chills like I had a fever but I didn't (trust me, I must have checked ten to fifteen times). I am hyper-sensitive to how everything in my body feels. At five in the morning I turned onto my side and I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. I could actually feel my heart beating and pumping harder because of the drugs. Trying to walk Riley to school this morning took longer because I couldn't walk as fast. I couldn't get a full breath of air. Then when I started walking my heart started to beat harder and faster. I was exhausted by the time I got home. I had a quick breakfast, lay down on the couch and was fast asleep for the next couple hours. I woke up so groggy and spaced out that I had my mother drive me to my doctors appointment. Now, when I go to the doctors office, I must don a mask immediately upon entry and ask to be put in a separate office so I don't catch anything while waiting in the waiting room, as well as sanitise when I enter and when I leave. I asked my doctor about my heart and about how breathing felt. Totally normal for a chemo patient. All of my organs are working overtime. My MUGA scan (heart test) came back normal. When I got back home I was again, exhausted. I slept on and off for another three and a half hours. Here's something I figured out not to do...do NOT bend down to pick something up! I bent over to pick up a sock - my God! I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest and the my lungs were going to drop out like two bags of sand. It also gave me an immediate headache. Note to self - don't do that again! I also have muscle aches and pains. Good times! On the plus side, my PICC line is finally hurting less! I am one tough chick! I can handle this!

Twenty-four hours later...

I slept like a baby. I was asleep and totally out of it by ten o'clock.  I don't even remember the nine o'clock hour.  I may have been staring at the TV, perhaps I was playing solitaire - I actually think I was sleeping with my eyes open. I could have slept even longer but we had to get Ry off to school.  Life doesn't stop so we have to keep going as best we can. Derek and I walked Riley to school and then took our dog (Tucker) for a walk. It was so wonderful walking through the forest, the temperature was beautiful. It felt weird knowing that this medicine was going all through me yet I felt no different (maybe a little shaky). By lunchtime I was starting to feel a little shakier and then chilly. My home care nurse came to give me the white blood cell booster injection. Damn, that sucker hurts! The needle poking into my stomach didn't feel too bad (like a bug bite) but the booster stung! I'm a big baby when it comes to needles, but still! Derek and I went to pick Riley up from school and that's when it hit. I got the chills. I was terrified that I had a fever. We got home and I immediately took my temperature - normal! It must be that my body was reacting to the chemo as it kills the good and bad cells. I decided that it was time for a nap. I needed to warm up and get some rest. More or less, I think I have survived my first day!

The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth...

When we got home we decided to talk to Riley and tell him what was going on. This came on the advice of the social worker. We had slowly been feeding him information and we felt that he needed to know now what was happening and why. I called Ry over and told him that Mommy was at the hospital again today and that the reason I have been going to the hospital so often is because I have CANCER. The first thing out of Riley's mouth was him asking me if I was going to die (I knew he would ask and wonder about this - he knows all about Terry Fox). I told him that I would not die (it felt so good to be able to say that - especially thinking back to my bone scan and CT scan).  We told Ry that Terry Fox died many years ago when they didn't have the medicine or the technology that they have today. We also told Ry that we found the cancer early enough that they could treat it and take it out of me. I told him that I was going to have to go to the hospital regularly so that they could give me medicine to make me all better.  That was good enough for him.  Enough for today. Another day we can talk about surgery, radiation and reconstruction...

Another test...

We had to go directly from my chemo treatment to an MRI.  This is to help establish a baseline for the surgeon when it comes time to operate.  I will need to do another MRI when chemotherapy is completed. I was so drowsy and groggy. All I wanted to do was go home and lie down on the couch or in bed.  They got me in as quickly as possible, especially when we showed up over an hour and a half early for my appointment. More dyes were injected into my bloodstream. I lay down on the machine with my breasts hanging through a hole in the board (if you've never had an MRI, typically you lay down face up).  For an MRI you go into this tunnel on the board and have to stay as still as possible.  I stayed so still that I managed to drift off three time, in spite of all the noise the machine makes (so much noise that you wear headphones over your ears for protection). It isn't constant. I would drift off during the noise and the noise would stop. When it started up again, I would jump awake and drift off again. Once completed, I had my PICC line cleaned yet again and it was finally time to go home...

The time had come to start chemotherapy...

December 16th, 2014. My first day of chemo treatment. I was so nervous. I couldn't believe that this was actually happening. I wore my guardian angel, my wishing bone and my special bling bracelet for good luck and to help have someone and friends/family looking out for me. The Lakeridge Oshawa Chemo Centre is beautiful (If you can say that in about a place that you go for them to basically inject poison into you). The nurses even wear speacial plastic gowns and gloves the entire time they work with you. I sat in the chair and waited. A really nice nurse came over and introduced herself.  I was terrified. First she needed to flush out my PICC line.  Then their were two medicines to inject into me.  The first was the colour of red Kool-Aid and she had to manually inject me. The second was on a drip. As the second one was injected, I began to feel light-headed.  The nurse had to slow the speed of the injection down and add saline to relieve the light-headedness. I was also beginning to feel very tired. I'm not sure if the tired part was because of the drugs or from the adrenaline rush or both. A dietician met with us as well as a social worker. The social worker wanted to see how Derek and I were doing and put us in touch with Harth Place. There were a couple of workshops there that I was very interested in attending - 'Look Good Feel Better' and a special program that they have to help tell your children what you are going through. It comes with age/gender appropriate toys, and a book for parents and a book for the child to help them understand. Once chemo was over, I was told about the chemo precautions. I was probably going to urinate pink for the next couple days as the drug wears through me...interesting.I was also told that every time I use the bathroom for the next few days (or more) I need to flush the toilet twice. The chemo is a poison and they want to make sure that the drug is thoroughly flushed down. I also need to remember to close the lid of the toilet to avoid any splashback. We have assigned me to one toilet in the house to have Derek and Riley avoid any contact. Have no fear, if you drop by, it won't be one you would use!  Speaking of dropping by, you will also need to sanitize your hands as soon as you come in (sanitizer or a scrubbing) and PLEASE don't come by if you are sick. I am very susceptible to all communicable diseases and infections. Time to go home now right?  Wrong...more tests...

Getting 'wiggy' with it...

I had an early appointment the morning of December 16th to look at wigs. I've been told that my hair will fall out - not maybe, it will. I went with my Mom to try on some different shaped styles, different colours, different lengths and get a little educated on wigs. The place I went was fantastic.  They seemed to really know what they were talking about and there was no commitment, even if they ordered the wig and I didn't like it. Wigs are crazy expensive. The synthetic ones start at $250 and go up to about $550. It depends on a lot of different things, all of which I was educated about.  Real hair wigs typically start at $1000 and can go up to $4000 (probably more if you really wanted to look!) In the end, I did find a wig. It is similar length to my hair right now and very similar in colour.  I opted to go with synthetic (for a number of reasons - easier to maintain, a little less expensive, etc.) but I did go for a more high-end wig (I know, everyone is shocked that I went high-end!)...

Welcome to our home...

The evening of December 15th, we found out that we would have a home-care nurse come to our house the day after our first chemotherapy. She would administer a small injection of white blood cell booster into me (my stomach area). She would also teacher Derek and I how to administer this to me on our own. The nurse only comes to the home the first time to inject the blood cell booster - after that, you're on your own! Derek better pay close attention because I would NEVER be able to do that to myself. She will also come every other week (the week I don't have chemotherapy) to change the dressing and clean my PICC line. I have to be very careful to never get the PICC line wet as this can cause bacteria and infection. Infection can spread quickly through my body. In fact, if my temperature ever hits 38 degrees Celsius or 100 degrees Fahrenheit, I need to go directly to the hospital emergency room...

You've got a friend in me...

Once again, I felt myself overwhelmed by the compassion friends and family members have displayed to our family - flowers, dinners, date nights, letters, emails, texts, guardian angels, DVD's, charm bracelets, cookies, Tim's card, gas card - we have never felt so loved and cared for.  For every beautiful message I/we read, it truly gives us a little bit more strength to travel down this path...

Ewww...that's so gross...

Monday, December 15th was a big day! So busy. So many appointments. So many people poking me and prodding me and the same questions over and over. Urg!!! This was the day I was to get my PICC line. For those of you not in the know (I didn't know until five days ago) a PICC line is a small tube and wire inserted into one of your larger veins. The tube extends to the outside of your skin making it easy for blood work and chemo treatments. YUCK!!! I hate needles! I realize that I won't continuously have needles poked into me now and my veins won't collapse from being over used but the tube that came out of my arm really freaked me out. They bring you into an X-ray/ultrasound room. The nurse froze my arm and then inserted the tube. She used the ultrasound machine and X-ray type pictures to guide the wire into place, very close to my heart. The thought of all of this going into me and being moved around in me made me squeamish. Once done, I found it bulky and painful. How was I going to last the next sixteen plus weeks? After the PICC line was inserted, I went for blood work (I've learned I have to do this the day before any chemo treatment so they can check my blood cell count), and then to a follow-up appointment with the medical oncologist (chemo doctor). No big surprises there! Yay! After the meeting with the oncologist, we went for something called a MUGA scan. This is a test where they again inject me with dyes and I have to wait for it to flow through my body.  The test is about half an hour in length and tests your heart. They need to make sure that it is pumping blood properly so that the chemo will pump through you body properly and so that your heart can withstand the chemo treatment. The test was completed and it was finally time to go home...

Testing, testing...

Lakeridge Oshawa managed to squeeze me in for a CT scan on Sunday, December 14th at 6:30pm! Derek got a break from all the tests and scans - my mother came with me. I had to drink a lot of  broth before going to the scan. I had a rudimentary PICC line inserted into my arm so that the nurse could inject dyes and saline solution into me while the test was running. I also had to drink a super-sized cup of what could best be described as strong pool water. It was horrible. I had one hour to get it in me before the scan. When I went in to the scan I felt like I had entered into the state-of-the-art chamber.  It was pretty cool.  The scan was going to check to see if the cancer cells had spread through my body to places like my neck, spine, lungs, and kidneys.  The entire scan took less than five minutes. When they inject the saline solution you get the strangest taste in your mouth (it tastes the way a band-aid smells when you first unwrap it). The injection also gives you a crazy sensation - kind of really warm and almost like you are wetting yourself - that was so weird! And for the record, no I did NOT wet myself!

A picture says a thousand words...

One thing that I wanted to make sure that my family did before my chemotherapy began was get a family picture taken. I wanted to remember what I looked like and what my family looked like right before treatment. It would be something that I could look at and get me through this. A wonderful friend of mine is a brilliant photographer and offered to take our pictures. I've seen end product already and they are simply stunning. She captured our family brilliantly. Thank you, my dear friend...

A feeling of normalacy...

After my pharmaceutical teaching and radiation oncologist appointment on December 12th, I got to experience what 'normal' felt like again. I wanted to go into my classroom and see my little Grade 1's again. I wanted a chance to say good-bye and Merry Christmas to them. I also wanted to see the staff members that I have grown so close to and those that have reached out to me. It was so wonderful to make a Christmas craft with the Grade One's and to hear some of their stories. I told them that I wasn't going to be back for a while because I was sick. I basically explained how I was feeling and that I was sick in the same words, more or less, that I used to explain being sick to my son.  I never used the word 'cancer' but I did explain that I was very sick and would not be at school for quite a while. I also told them that I would drop in whenever I could. It was great to see my teaching partner, administration and other team members again. The lady taking my place in my classroom is fantastic and I feel so wonderful leaving my children in her quite-capable hands. I even went to my staff Christmas party that evening. It was wonderful to forget all about the cancer and the treatments for a short time and to feel 'normal'...

How do you say that?

First thing December 12th, we met with the pharmacist. She went over each drug I would take during chemotherapy and what the side-effects would be. She also talked to me about what drugs to take the day of chemo and the following two days. Wow! There are A LOT of pills to take each day and week. I also have prescribed anti-nausea pills. Most of the pills I have to take are reasonably priced (as far as the typical prescriptions we generally take). I also need to take injections of white blood cell boosters the day after each chemo treatment. Holy crap! This stuff is crazy-expensive! We are talking $2700 each week I have chemo! That's insane! I'm not even sure how to pronounce any of the medicines I am supposed to take. After we met with the pharmacist, we met with my radiation oncologist. I had been thinking a bit about the road to the radiation turn-off. My doctor put it best...after chemo and surgery, radiation will be a walk in the park! I won't feel anything - its just a machine that moves around me targeting the breast area. Finally, something much less painful! There are some side-effects. I should expect to feel fatigued and the area that is targeted will slowly feel like I am getting a sunburn.  I should expect to do 25-30 rounds of radiation - everyday, five days a week for five to six weeks. Again, I am happy we are no longer going to Sunnybrook. That would be a lot of travelling back and forth, especially when I am feeling tired.  Each treatment typically lasts fifteen minutes.  Easy-peasy...I think!

How do you tell a six-year-old...

When I heard the news that cancer wasn't in my bones and I started to cry, Riley saw me. How do you tell a six-year-old that you have cancer?  Derek and I had been prepping him. We had been telling him for a couple weeks that 'Mommy was sick' and that he needs to wash his hands all the time. We knew now that we needed to tell him more. I went right down to his level and told him that I needed to talk to him. I asked him if he remembered when Daddy and I told him that I was sick. I told him that I had been finding out that I was really sick. I had finally heard some good news and that I was so relieved and happy even though I was crying. I asked him if he remembered when I had showed him the bandages from the biopsy? I told him that even though I didn't look sick right now, that I actually was. The sick part was where the bandages were and that it was under the skin where he couldn't see.  I also told Riley that I was going to get a lot more sick before I got any better. I explained to Riley that he was going to have to be super-careful with me and that he wouldn't be able to run full-speed into me and that he was going to have to wash his hands all the time. I also had to tell Riley that unfortunately, when he was sick, I was going to have to stay further away from him and probably wouldn't be able to kiss him, snuggle him or put him to bed.  That broke my heart. I also promised him that I would get better again and be the exact same way again soon.  He accepted what I told him and told me that he understood. I think I managed to give a basic explanation of cancer to a six-year-old...

Scariest day of my life...

I woke up on this day having barely slept. I was still thinking about that damn bone scan. It's all I could think of. I wasn't breathing properly and was shaking. It was crazy. I have been so positive through this horrible ordeal but all I could think was what if this test comes back positive? Then what? I went to the Nuclear Diagnostics lab where they injected a dye in me that would travel through my body for the next two hours.  I was to eat and drink as normal and return for the bone scan. Yeah right! Between the dye injection and the bone scan, I went to the Cancer Centre for a chemo teaching session. I learned about a lot of the side effects (hair loss everywhere including my head, eyelashes, eyebrows and everything south of there), lack of appetite, muscle and joint soreness, mouth sores, tiredness, drowsiness, food aversions, food tasting funny, a compromised immune system, nausea, man oh man! I also learned about all the medicines I would be taking along with the chemotherapy medicines. There are so many drugs to take and they are so expensive! As soon as the teaching session ended, it was time to head right back to diagnostics. By the time I got myself up and into that machine I was beside myself. I was shaking and tearing up and crying.  I was basically a mess. I silently cried most of the time I was being scanned. Derek and I would know the results by the end of the day. Now all we could do was wait until my GP called us with the results. When he finally called four hours later Derek and I were so tense. I made a joke when he asked for me. I said, "Hi doc, tell me you have good news!"  He paused, and paused, and paused, and paused. It must have been 15 seconds.  Those were the longest 15 seconds of my life. In retrospect, I think I took him by surprise, caught him off guard.  At the time I thought he was formulating a way to break the bad news to me. In the end, he told me that everything came back benign.  Have you ever watched a show and seen someone collapse to the floor in relief? I've always thought that it seemed over acted.  I can now tell you that I no longer feel that way. That's what I did. I collapsed to the floor in relief - I was like Bambi. My legs could not hold me up. I was shaking, sweating, freezing and crying. My emotions were impossible to control. The cancer had not spread into my bones. I remember calling my parents and talking to my Dad. I ended up bawling. It was such an emotional relief that I was a crying mess. I thank my lucky stars...

Chemo is my new reality...

My new reality set in on December 10th. I met with my first medical oncologist (chemotherapy doctor) at Lakeridge Oshawa. At this time, it was determined that I would begin my cancer treatment with chemotherapy. If I chose to go through with my treatment at Lakeridge Oshawa, I could begin treatment as early as the following week. We asked the doctor to potentially set us up for the Thursday or Friday as we were meeting with the medical oncologist at Sunnybrook on December 17th and wanted to be able to make our choice then. We went on to discuss chemotherapy - what it is, what it does and how my treatment would be different or the same between Lakeridge and Sunnybrook. Chemo kills or shrinks cancer cells and attacks blood cells, both the healthy and unhealthy cells. Chemo is regulated by the province of Ontario therefore it is identical from hospital to hospital. Hmmm...maybe we should stay in Oshawa? It's winter and we know what snow and icy conditions can do to traffic. Driving in to Sunnybrook regularly was looking less and less like the better option. The treatment plan that the oncologist recommended for us would have me doing chemo every other week for eight doses - that would be a minimum of 16 weeks of therapy (therapy time would be extended if my white blood cell count was too low as they would have to push my chemotherapy to the following week to allow my body to continue to reproduce white blood cells). The doctor also told us that I would have to also meet with her the day before each chemo treatment. Blood work would be done and she would then determine whether treatment would happen the next day or the following week. Hmmm...again, Lakeridge was looking more promising. This was something Derek and I were definitely going to have to discuss, quickly. I would have a number of tests done before chemo was to happen - a bone scan to see if the cancer had spread to my bones, a CT scan to see if the cancer had spread to my liver, kidneys, lungs, spine or neck and an MRI (more imaging of my organs). My question to the doctor was what can be done if the cancer had spread to my bones. The answer - NOTHING!  Holy shit! I'm not even sure I heard anything else she told Derek and I. I couldn't get that thought from my head. Nothing could be done if the cancer had invaded my bones. For the next 24 hours all I could think about was my baby boy, Riley. At that point, Derek and I made the choice - we were going through Lakeridge. We weren't seeing the oncologist at Sunnybrook until December 17th and they had told us that treatment may not start until after Christmas, possibly into the new year. No way! The thought of the cancer spreading further into my body was enough for us to decide on Lakeridge. In fact, our medical oncologist was willing to squeeze us in to get chemo treatment started on Tuesday, December the 16th. Our decision was made...

Second opinion same as the first...

On the 8th of December we made the trek to Sunnybrook hospital to meet with another surgeon. She confirmed everything the first surgeon told us. She also told us that due to the size of the tumor and the triple negative effect, we would be starting with chemotherapy.  Sunnybrook was so busy and sooooo expensive. A 16 day parking pass was $225! 10 days at Lakeridge was $76. The cafeteria at Sunnybrook was also extremely expensive - at least at Lakeridge Oshawa the prices reflect normal and typical costs for Subway, Pizza Pizza and Tim Hortons. At Sunnybrook we would have our own nurse to follow us through the journey from the beginning, right to the end. We wouldn't have to worry about scheduling appointments - our nurse would do all the scheduling and let us know where we need to be and when. They also offer something called 'My Chart' where I would have access to all my reports, results and appointments. I could print off any reports/results whenever I wanted. We thought that was pretty cool. Sunnybrook also offered us social workers, psychologists, a dietician, really anyone that we could think of to help us through this...hellish ride we were about you embark on...

"That's what friends (and family) are for. In good times and bad times..."

The power of friendship is undeniable. This has been reaffirmed for me over and over again in the last couple of weeks. I have never in my life had so many people reach out to me, my family or my parents. It truly makes travelling through this journey a little easier. A couple of Saturdays ago, I had the pleasure of getting together with a few couples that Derek and I regularly hang around with. Yes, we talked about my breast cancer but I was overcome with their kind words their camaraderie, their love for me and my family. Their support was unbelievable. I really don’t have words to describe how it felt to have each person listen and contribute to my fight by telling me they would be there for anything I/we needed at any time. It was amazing talking to them about doing a breast cancer walk and maybe even doing golf tournament. I left that night feeling like I could conquer the world. Friends always know the perfect thing to say at the perfect time. The next afternoon, a group of girls I used to work with at SWS came over. It was a last minute thing and it was simply amazing to have my girls over. They made me smile because they get me and because I am totally myself around them. It was amazing to see each of them (it’s really been a while for a couple ladies, (especially when I know how busy each of their lives are between children, husbands, family, friends, and extra-curricular activities They were able to come and see me and show all their love and support. The flowers they brought me were absolutely beautiful (and pink, symbolizing breast cancer – that didn’t go unnoticed). When they headed home, I remember remarking to Derek that I felt so great and that I couldn’t stop smiling. I miss seeing each of them regularly. I sincerely miss all of the team that I currently work with. At one point or another, each team member has asked me how things are going, have offered their friendship to me, have prayed for me, have helped me to my class when I couldn’t even think straight because I felt so stressed out and because they are just such a fantastic group of people to work with. With some, it has been their witty sense of humour that has me laughing and forgetting about the road that lies ahead. Another friendship I will treasure is Riley’s teacher and school community. They have been so amazing and so supportive. So many are praying for myself and my family – people I don’t know and people I barely know – moving into this school community is just what Riley and our family needed to endure this path chosen for me. Their love and support will help us to travel this scary path. One group of my girls even went as far as putting together a beautiful bracelet for me. It is so meaningful. There are many beads and charms and each of them have a special meaning behind it. The teapot is for friendships I have made, a hope charm, pink and white crystal beads representing breast cancer (because I will kick it in the ass and because I love sparkle), hematite beads for stability, a laugh charm for the better days ahead, a red bead to represent the fire within, a crystal because of the tests I have been through and for the positive results, a family charm for and from my family and friends and a purse charm because my girls and I are going on a serious shopping spree (boy, do my friends know me) when this is all over. I will wear that bracelet to every chemo appointment and when I need some extra strength. I have also been given a beautiful guardian angel to watch over me. Thank you to all these friends and friendships and to the many more that have taken time to comfort my family and me. To all my friendships, I am blessed for even knowing you. Thank you...