tired patient = relatively short post

Today was a long day! Left Ocean county at 7:30 am, and returned at 8:30 pm.

While sitting in the reconstructive surgeon's office today (whom I love, by the way), I read this on the wall:
"Peace - it does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart."  WOW, that about sums it up for me. I strive for peace amidst the battlefield.

The appointment with the surgeon went great. I am very comfortable with her. Well, as comfortable as is possible for someone who was talking to me about dismantling and rebuilding my body parts. This afternoon was the pet scan. If that goes well, surgery is set for June 20th.

Please continue the prayers. They help!

I am just dreaming of the day when I can wear my survivor shirt. To quote one of my special suvivor mentors: "I have cancer, but cancer doesn't have me!" I am gearing up for battle folks. I hear my grandfather whistling the battle hymn of the republic somewhere in my mind... Warrior up!

Someday I'll be Saturday night - and a bit of good news.

Today was a good day. I was blessed to receive good news. After much waiting and angst and annoying a few nurses at Hackensack, I finally got the results of the bone scan! All clear!!!! Woooooohhhhhoooooooooooooooo!

That's a big step. Now I just need the same result to come of my pet scan tomorrow. Please please please pray for me. I am tired of the worry. I truly believe that if the pet scan is good and it's "only" breast cancer, all will be doable. When the nurse confirmed what I had been dying to hear today, I felt, if only for a moment, like everything would be ok.

I have a new aspiration in life. To join the elite group of phenomenal women who are called "survivors"! I always knew they were a special group, but I am learning so quickly just how very special indeed. It's a sisterhood that requires one hell of a pledge season. Delta Zeta had nothing on this! (no offense sisters) It's an honor to even be in the preliminary stages of earning that badge. I hope one day to make them all proud and walk amongst them, having earned my title by beating this ridiculous disease with my head held high. I do believe that this is what I am meant to do. I hope and pray I am right.

The worry is exhausting. I thought chasing around a two year old was tiring. That has nothing on chasing my own fear. Trying to shove it out of my mind. The good news helped boost my confidence a bit. I know I sound like a broken record, but I just need one more piece of good news and I'm good.

I have a feeling this is going to be one of the longest weeks of my life. I'm hoping that it also ends up being one of my best. If the news is what I hope for, I am much more assured that I will reach my goal and beat this nonsense!

Tonight's musical inspiration? Bon Jovi: "Hey man, I'm alive. I'm taking each day one night at a time. I'm feeling like a monday, but someday I'll be Saturday niiiiiiiighhhhhtttt!"

Sunday night...

Sorry folks, Sunday night's edition of the blog will be about as entertaining as, well, Sunday night. So back to work again tomorrow. I hope I can focus. It's hard being back in the office for a few reasons.

#1. it's a pretty blatant reminder that even though so much has changed, so much more is coming down the pike. I will be on disability soon. That's hard for me. Much of my job depends on being in the loop. Knowing what's going on and who the players are. Being out for a long stretch is tough and a little scary.

#2. Co-workers are slowly becoming more aware of my circumstances. It's kind of awkward. I prefer that people know. However, it means people fall into one of three categories. Those who know directly, those who have heard second hand, and those who have no clue. Those who know directly have been wonderful. They have been kind and compassionate and supportive. Those who know second hand are probably the most awkward. They tend to say nothing to me, but look at my boobs as I walk towards them. Hey, they don't look any different yet folks. You can't tell they have cancer in them by staring at them. HELLLOOOOO. Ah, it might as well be high school all over again. And those who don't know yet, I feel bad because they do find out and then feel terrible. And it's hard to watch people who are just starting to wrap their heads around the news when I am further down the acceptance process.

#3. Well, it's work. I am extremely grateful to have a job, especially in this economy and in my circumstances. But as I always say, they pay you for a reason.

#4. It takes me closer to important answers. I have tests and results coming this week. If they are good, then I want them. If they are not, I don't want to know. I want to stay here in this Sunday night where everything is doable.

On that note, I'm going to get some rest. I am certain this will be another long week. I'll sign off with lyrics from a Kenny Chesney song I love:

The Preacher told me last Sunday mornin'
"Son, you better start livin' right.
You need to quit the women and whiskey and carrying on all night.
Don't you want to hear him call your name when you're standing at the pearly gates?"
I told the Preacher "Yes, I do, but I hope he don't call today." Are you ready?

Everybody wants to go to Heaven.
Have a mansion high above the clouds.
Everybody wanna go to Heaven, but nobody wanna go now.

Said, Preacher, maybe you didn't see me throw an extra twenty in the plate.
There's one for everything I did last night,
and one to get me through today.
Here's a ten to help you remember, next time you got the good Lord's ear.
Say-I'm comin' but there ain't no hurry
I'm havin' fun down here. Don't you know that-

Everybody wants to go to Heaven.
Get their wings and fly around.
Everybody wanna go to Heaven 
but nobody wanna go now.

Some day I wanna see those streets of gold.
Get my halo.
But I wouldn't mind waitin' at least a hundred years or so...

birthdays, bracelets, and liv... (yes, that is spelled correctly)

A few thoughts to share tonight. First off, my son stole my pink bracelet. (Jami bought me lots of the pink cause bracelets with my name on it for everyone---woohoo!!!) He wanted it because it had letters on it. I told him that the bracelet meant that mommy loved him very much. He is currently sleeping with it under his pillow. I hope it brings him sweet dreams. If I could have one wish or prayer answered, it would be for that little boy to be nothing but happy his whole life! and for me to be here to share in that happiness with him and Steve. (ok that might count as two, but who cares).

When he first took it, he was laying in bed holding it, and singing happy birthday. I assume that this was because we just sang happy birthday to Rick earlier today. But it struck me in another way. I guess because I feel like I am celebrating a different kind of birthday--- a rebirth so to speak. NWC has arrived, and she's doing alright (See Frank's comment on my earlier post - "NWC" is nicole with cancer). p.s. sorry Stup, didn't mean to hork your birthday! ;-) 

Secondly, I have heard from so many people that the blog is helping them, inspiring them, and making them laugh. I am so thrilled to hear that! It has been my therapy. It's the place where I can organize my thoughts, make a few boob jokes and spread the word about early detection. And it's my rally spot. It's my place to get myself psyched up. I'm so pleased to hear it does the same for others as well. I appreciate every comment shared, whether here, on facebook, or in person. Please know that positive begets positive and strength begets strength. Let's keep on building each other up. Suddenly, the old Jackie Wilson song "Your love is lifting me higher" pops into my head. Sing along everyone... If you are going to get a song stuck in your head, it might as well be an inspiring one! hahaha.

Finally, in my mission to educate people, I want to focus a little bit on the Liv which I mentioned in my earlier post. I have gotten a few questions on it, and I figured best to share this enmasse. I hope I get the details right. 

My Zia Sandy shared the Liv with me probably about 7 months ago, sometime in the fall. It's a product that is used for self-exams. Her company makes them. It makes it easier to feel weird abnormalities when they pop up. When she showed it to me, she demonstrated on this sponge which had lumps in it to demonstrate what I should be looking for during a self-exam. Guess what? That's how I knew I had to get checked out. I never got around to buying the Liv from her because I thought there was no way I was ever going to really need it. I mean after all, young chicks like me with no family history don't get breast cancer, right??? WRONG! 

So even though I never actually bought the Liv, having tried it out, I knew when my hand found that crazy little thing, I had to take action. Thanks again Zia!!! Love you. 

Keep the prayers coming... Here's the schedule this week as it stands today.

• Work on Monday, Wednesday, Friday - hurray for normacy
• Tuesday - Meeting with the reconstructive surgeon, and pet/ct scan... PLEASE SEND PRAYERS!!!! If that goes well, my confidence and strength will go through the roof. 
• Thursday - one more ultrasound and biopsy for good measure. God I hate those. Blah! 

My mantra: Start strong, finish stronger! (thanks again Helen!) 

My new life is good too.

In the last week and a half, it has felt like I am living in an alternate universe. A lot of things are familiar to me, but it's still all feels weird and new.

Yesterday, I decided I wanted to test a few things out. I tried listening to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. Random yes, but it has some of the most fun music around. And guess what. It still makes me smile. Score! Try it if you are feeling down. If there was song or a cd that made you smile in the past, it will still do so. Trust me. Oh and it's even better if you find a song that my son likes because he might sing it to you. If that doesn't make you smile, well then you have it worse than I do and I feel sorry for you.

I went to the park this evening with my son and husband. I can still run around like a kid, and my butt still knows how to slide down a slide. Ok, that's a good sign too. And I even tripped once or twice for good measure.

These are two little things, but they are important nonetheless. Sometimes the little things are even more important than the big things. They are still more glimpses that connect me to NBC (for those who haven't read the old posts, NBC is "nicole before cancer"). There are some more tests that I still need to try. I definitely need to go to our favorite restaurant Jules and have my usual. There may be a few others.

I also look forward to a day when my body and diagnosis is not on my mind incessantly. Will that ever happen? My ability to think clearly is not really strong because thoughts that fall out of the realm of cancer don't stand a chance right now. All of my energy and thoughts are there.  I know most of my friends are family are pretty consumed as well. I know it will never be completely gone from my thoughts, but it would be nice to be able to have maybe a moment alone without cancerous thoughts.

Although having a little boy, I should be used to no privacy EVER!  I rarely even get a chance to use the bathroom interrupted. I often see little fingers trying to get under the door followed by that precious little voice saying, "mommy, what are you doing?" Maybe that's just another reason why he is here and helping me. He prepped me for the concept of never having a moment to myself. Although being interrupted by that cute little face is much more pleasant than by fear, questions, thoughts of a hairless me. Ugh.

But I refuse to get mad about all of this. First of all, I know my brothers and Steve had done enough of that for me. Thanks guys, one thing I can check off my to do list. Second of all, I do believe this was a path I was meant to walk. And I pray that it is a path I can walk for many many years. In some strange ways, this diagnosis has been the most amazing thing that has come my way. I am seeing love and generosity being poured out in such unbelievable ways and even from some unexpected sources. I am learning much about volunteering by being a recipient, that perhaps I will walk away from this with a new calling. The survivors in my life (you all know who you are) have been truly inspirational and are constantly giving me hope. You have lifted me up in a unique way. Maybe I someday will be a survivor who can give others hope and comfort! Now that would be amazing and a blessing for me. And that's just one more reason to fight the fight: to be a woman for others.

Life's not perfect, but it's still good. Even with cancer. Now that's a shocker!

A public service announcement, a few thoughts, and "I had a dream too"

Before I get into it, Happy 30th birthday Stup! (my baby brother)

Ok, now back to our regularly scheduled blog.

I have gotten several questions and have been happy to answer them, but for those who haven't asked yet, I think there is some really important information that I need to share with all of you. Please please please learn from me! These are that facts as I know them about my breast cancer.

1. I have very little genetic history to link me to getting this. My mom's first cousin had it. that's it. One model showed me as being only 5% risk... Why can't I win with those kinds of odds playing the lottery?
2. I am under the magic age of 40. Mammograms are not routine for people like me... People who are "less likely" to get it... again, maybe I need to play mega millions.
3. My mom had a history of finding benign things. I assumed that is what I had. But I thank God that I went to the doc's anyway. Don't assume anything and DO NOT self-diagnose!
4. I found it myself. I was not super diligent about monthly self-exams, but would do them once in a while. I went to the docs pretty quickly. I'm so glad I did. If you find something, you are not being paranoid by having it checked out. You are being smart. If I waited until my annual to bring it up, it would be 6 months from now, and my prognosis would be much worse! Thank God for once I didn't procrastinate. (those who went to college with me know how unusual this is! nun-tac-toe anyone?? J, I'm looking at you!)
5. Early detection is SO critical to saving lives. I didn't realize how important....I am praying and hoping that I am early enough to have caught mine in time. So far, it's seeming positive, but I don't know for sure just yet. The next week or two should let me know for sure. In the meantime, pray for me.
6. Sometimes, breast cancer can be hormonally driven, and pregnancy can contribute to that. If you are a new mom, you are not exempt from breast cancer risk!! I had Steven 2 and a half years ago. My type of tumors are the hormonally driven ones... and guess what's raging in your body after you have a child? bingo! I was practically feeding the things with fish food!

And here are just a few extra thoughts. People have told me they feel awkward laughing reading the blog... Don't feel awkward. Laugh! I am. That's very much the point of some of what I write. Cancer is serious enough on its own. It doesn't need me to add to its seriousness. Keeping my sense of humor during this madness is a critical coping technique for me.

Also, people have been asking about the level of privacy. At this point, privacy is right out the window. More people have seen my body parts in the last two weeks than in my entire adulthood. While I will not share any crazy details or photos, one does lose a certain sense of privacy during this whole thing. I'd rather people are educated, inspired, and maybe a little entertained by me in the process. If I can inspire someone to check themselves out and maybe aid in someone else's early detection, then that will make me so proud!

Please educate yourself people. There are many great resources on how to do self exams. There are even amazing products like the Liv that can help. I can share info with you on this if you are interested.

As for the dream, while it pales in comparison to Dr. MLK's dream, I took it as positive. Last night, I dreamt that I was looking out the window. I noticed what looked like a horrible storm cloud rolling in across the sky. It was very dark and ominous looking. Then I looked closer. The storm cloud was actually just a grey awning being rolled out over the window... So perhaps things aren't as scary as they first seem... That's how I am taking it.

the "oh Sh*t" face

This post is dedicated to my brother Chris who found my description of the face entertaining.

Before I describe today's events, let me explain what the "oh sh*t" face is. When I was sent for my mammo and my ultrasound, the tech doing the ultrasound had a look on her face that let me know she was not happy with what she was seeing. As she was scanning around with the little probe thing, she knew she was looking at exactly what she was trained to look for, and that it was not good. Although she didn't say a word, her face said it all: clearly "oh sh*t"! And I knew then that things were going to get ugly fast.

So today was the bone scan... They inject you with radioactive stuff, you wait two hours, and they scan you to see if there is anything bad going on in your bones. It wasn't so bad. Here's how the day went.

First off, Donna and I want props for the fact that we were actually early for the appointment. Neither of us is ever on time for anything! I wonder if two late people cancel each other out...

Anyway, we got there, and they took me back to inject the isotope or whatever you call it in. They hook up the line, and wouldn't you know it, blood spurts all over. Gross, I know. Poor Donna. She went white as a ghost and almost passed out. The funny thing is when they try to get my veins to take blood, I'm like a pin cushion. They stick and stick and can never find the damn thing. This time, when something was going in, it was like a fountain... ew!

So after Donna regained consciousness, we had time to kill. We went to the diner, since I might as well enjoy food now since it will taste horrible during chemo. This was a good idea until I laid down in the scanner thing, and thought I was going to barf. Word to the wise folks... If you need to lay flat, don't cram a bunch of greasy food down your throat first... Not my smartest move.

During the scan, I was watching the techs face intently. Searching for the "oh sh*t" face. I know the techs can't say anything to me. But I want answers, so I make them up. I think they were trying to hint that things looked ok. And at least while they were facing me, they didn't have the "oh sh*t" face. So either, that is awesome news, or they can always be good poker players if their career in the medical profession doesn't pan out.

Here's hoping because really, I'm not a fan of the "oh sh*t" face. I much prefer the "whew! thank God" face. just saying....

So say lots of prayers... This is the first of two big tests. If I pass them both, the rest I can handle!!!