KC's Breast Cancer Journey

Beautiful Sunrise!

2010-11-04T09:22:00.000-07:00

Wow, this morning we had such a gorgeous sunrise! I felt a sense of a new beginning, like opening the first page of a bright and beautiful new book. With a healing body, mind, and spirit we move forward, starting a new chapter.
Thank you to my brother-in-law, Dennis, for the gift of this beautiful scripture he sent us yesterday.

"Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you; But rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ's sufferings, that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy." 1 Peter 4:12-13

God is good!

Also, thanks to all for your encouraging and supportive comments. I can't figure out how to respond to each of you so I'll just say thanks. It means so much.

The finish line...

2010-10-26T13:03:00.000-07:00

Well I am getting my final chemo treatment as we speak! There are still a few weeks of recovery and low white counts to get through, but no more IVs and no more poison going in. I feel relieved and ready to move forward! I can't wait to feel healthy again, to exercise and get strong. I can't wait to grow some hair back and not have to walk around as "cancer girl" anymore. Although I have to say, there have been so many supportive and encouraging survivors that have approached me in public and offered encouragement and support. I can't tell you how much that means when you are struggling just to get through the day and a stranger approaches you and tells you you are beautiful and that you can do this! It just brings hope and renews your strength!
The next step is to see my oncologist in 4 weeks for blood work and an exam. She will then start me on Tamoxifen for 5 years and clear me for my next reconstruction surgery which will take place in early December. That's when I get my implants or as we like to call them in our family, "our foobs". I will then be done with the whole process except for getting my new nipples three months later and that procedure is no big deal. My plastic surgeon is a riot and assures me that she makes "really cute nipples". They actually create the nipples with your existing tissue in a day surgery and then 3 months later they tattoo on your aeriola. You wouldn't believe how real they look these days.
I guess there has to be some silver lining in this, because honesty, John did a number on my old boobs. But, boy was he worth it. I just keep reminding myself that he is the reason for all of this. He and his daddy and my family. That's what will get me through the next few weeks of feeling sick and weak. It's so that I can go on with life feeling hopeful and strong, both mentally and physically. I owe that to them and to myself. As hard as this journey has been, I have no regrets about my decisions. They turned out to be the right ones for me. If I hadn't opted for the prophylactic mastectomy, my breast cancer probably wouldn't have been detected for years and my prognosis and treatment would have been much worse. Chemo was the right thing for me too. I have to feel I did everything I could and I feel proud of myself now because I learned that I have strength I never knew I had. I go forward with an increased confidence in myself and my ability to handle adversity, with less fear about life and what could happen. I think cancer teaches you just how little control you have in this world and that you better just live now. I see my scars and they remind me that I am strong and can do more than I ever knew I could. Here's to life after cancer and chemo! I finally see the finish line!

My sister is my heart...

2010-10-24T14:28:00.000-07:00

As I approach the finish line of my chemo journey, I feel incredibly blessed. Don't get me wrong, it's been the hardest thing I've ever done. But never has any experience had such a profound effect on my faith and my perspective than breast cancer. I have realized how many caring and loving people I have around me. It has strengthened some relationships and given me a desire to strengthen others. I have realized that I want to live my life focused only on what truly matters to me, like the people I love.

Today I am feeling grateful for my little sister, who surprised me yesterday morning and rode the train all the way to Sacramento in the middle of the night to be here for my last chemo treatment. When I got up in the morning and came out to the kitchen she was sitting in my living room. Can you beat that? She gave me the book, Promise Me written by Susan G Komen's sister, and inside she wrote the most beautiful poem about sisters. It's a long one but I just have to include it because it's so great...

My Sister
My sister is my heart.
She opens doors to rooms
I never knew were there,
Breaks through walls
I don't recall building.
She lights my darkest corners
With the sparkle in her eyes.

My sister is my soul.
She inspires my weary spirit
To fly on wings of angels
But while I hold her hand
My feet never leave the ground.
She stills my deepest fears
With the wisdom of her song.

My sister is my past.
She writes my history
In her eyes I recognize myself,
memories only we can share.
She remembers, she forgives
She accepts me as I am
with tender understanding.

My sister is my future.
She lives within my dreams
She sees my undiscovered secrets,
believes in me as I stumble
She walks in step beside me,
Her love lighting my way.

My sister is my strength.
She hears the whispered prayers
that I cannot speak
She helps me find my smile
Freely giving hers away
She catches my tears
in her gentle hands.

My sister is like no one else.
She's my most treasured friend
Filling up my empty spaces
Healing broken places
She is my rock, my inspiration
Though impossible to define,
In a word, she is...my sister.
-Lisa Lorden

Thank you my sweet sister for being here for me from the very start. Watching me in the hospital with a flashlight to make sure I was breathing because of the pain meds, staying awake all night to make sure the nurses did their job, getting in the shower with me when I got home to help me with the drains so I wouldn't have to look, coming all the way down to Sacramento over and over during this time to be with me and lend a helping hand, crying on the phone while I was talking to you when I realized my hair was falling out, making me cute scarves to wear instead of the old lady ones they sell at the wig store, and just being you... You make me laugh so much. You are a wonderful sister and my most "treasured friend". I don't know what I would do without you and I am constantly in awe of you. I will be there to hold your hand through your surgery in January. I know we can do it! Just one last hurdle and then it's celebration time!

Last chemo treat-Tuesday 10/26!

10-10-10

2010-10-12T09:01:00.000-07:00

Here is my beautiful sister getting ready to run in the race for the cure. She ran with my brother-in-law, Keir. Her shirt says that she runs for "the Arcangeli women", her "mother, sister, aunt, cousin, grandmother, and four great aunts". Good work Keir and LD!!! Wish we could have been there with you. Next year we will all run together.

One Step At A Time

2010-09-27T14:01:00.000-07:00

Ok. I haven't written in a while. I think it's because I wasn't feeling particularly strong and didn't want to use this forum as a place to complain. When I mentioned that to my lovely sister, who is here visiting, she reminded me that having a positive attitude doesn't mean that you feel that way every day. It just means that you keep trying to shift your focus back to the good and keep battling against your tendency to slip into negative patterns of thinking.  Thankfully, I am feeling stronger now than I have in a while, both physically and mentally.  For some reason when I crossed over into being less than one month from the last treatment (which is 10/26), I started to feel more hopeful. I feel like in recent days, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and while I know hard days still lie ahead, I have faith that I can make it and begin to put this all behind me. Here is the update since the last post.
When I went for my 9/14 treatment, my white cells were too high. The MD was concerned that I could have an infection in my breast or lungs and ordered a CT scan and x-ray. This ended up taking all afternoon and then we had to wait for the results.  When you have been diagnosed with cancer, you have spent many days waiting for various results, having had numerous tests/surgeries/procedures/IVs/needle pricks and by now I was just really sick of it.  We were tired and scared that treatment was going to be delayed. Thankfully, the results of the scans were fine and my MD allowed me to have chemo the next day.  The symptoms start a few days after the chemo and last about 4-6 days-extreme fatigue, bad taste in my mouth, nausea, fogginess in my brain making it very difficult to concentrate, and digestion problems.  I've also continued to struggle with back pain during my expansion process. And to top it all off, I started to get an allergic reaction that caused red, itchy bumps all over my head over the past week. During this time too, my father was stricken with an autoimmune response that causes severe muscle pain. It took his MD 6 weeks to figure out what was going on and provide proper medication/care and we were far away and unable to help. Meanwhile, my father could barely work and lost 14 pounds. He is doing much better now, thankfully, and is here visiting.
I think the hardest part is the struggle I have had to stay engaged with Johnny during my treatment. There are times when I am just trying to get through the day and it is so hard to have energy to attend to him and help him to know that his mommy is here and loves him. I just keep trying to remember that I'm doing this for him. Thank God for my husband and my mother who are taking care of me and John every step of the way. We are now 1 week out from the 3rd treatment and thus almost 3/4 of the way there.
The other day I was out on my walk. I try to stay as active as I can on the days I feel up to it. I was feeling tired on the way back home and I told myself, "just keep putting one foot in front of the other and you'll make it". That's a bit how it feels right now on this journey. I know good times are ahead. I can't wait for my last surgery. But it's about just keeping going right now. Isn't that how life is sometimes? There are seasons when we are just trying to keep going. And I think these seasons prepare us for something we may be called to do in the future that will require more strength than we had before. One of my favorite authors, Cheryl Richardson, put it this way..."life's disappointments may in fact be preparation for something even more significant in our lives. And, this belief has the best chance of coming true when you make a demonstrated commitment to learn and grow from your present day circumstances".
I am not fully aware of all that I am meant to learn through this process, but I do believe that it's bigger than me and my plans for myself. It has to do with God's plan for me. Judges 6:23 reminds me that the purpose of this journey is not to kill me but to bring me to the full measure of abundant life He promised me. Beth Moore said "You think he has wounded you to hurt you but He has wounded you in order to heal you".  I believe there is something more than physical healing coming in my future, healing from ways that I have been held captive in my life. I'll keep you posted as it unfolds. For now, I will keep taking one step at a time...
Next treatment is 10/5.

Does this wig make me look like Carol Channing? -Vivien from Pretty Woman

2010-09-08T15:00:00.000-07:00

OK. This chemo/breast reconstruction thing is no joke. We are into week three now and let's just say week two was no picnic. First, I attended the wedding of Matt and Monica (my cousin and new cousin-in-law). They were the cutest little couple I ever did see and their wedding was BEAUTIFUL! BUT, I felt like crap. My counts got low and right in the middle of the reception I started shivering and feeling like I had a bad flu. After the wedding we stopped to take my temp which was 102.5 (on chemo anything over 101 can land you in the ER). After a call to the oncologist, I found myself at an all night pharmacy getting an antibiotic and spent the night in our hotel room alternating between shivering and burning up.

Then right around the same time one of my pectoral muscles (or something???) got injured causing me to be in so much pain that even with muscle relaxers, vicodin, and high doses of ibuprofen I was unable to get out of bed unassisted for about 4 days. For those followers who don't know, I haven't yet had my final reconstruction surgery where they put my implants in. For the time being, I have expanders, which are these fantastic little devices that go under your skin and muscles and the plastic surgeon fills them up with saline (with a HUGE needle) every so often to stretch things for the implants. Needless to say, I'd almost rather give birth than have another "fill up".

Then, on Tuesday, the hair went. I think God gave me the other things to distract me or to help me put things in perspective because, honestly, I didn't even care. It's not really as traumatic as you would think. It just starts coming out when you touch your head or wash your hair. So, we shaved it off.  And to be honest, it's actually quite freeing. Wigs suck as you can imagine, but I do think there is a time for them. For the most part though, I think I prefer to just be bald. I feel kind of cool this way, like I'm kind of brave or something. The best part was Johnny's reaction. He just looked at me, laughed, and said "hair fell out". Then he just went about his business. I love how children his age don't have a concept of what "beauty" is or what our culture demands of us gals to be "presentable". He just looks at me and sees his mommy.

With those hurdles behind me, I'm just trying to keep looking forward and have faith that things will get better from here. Sometimes, I ask myself or God, what kind of a woman will I be when this is all over? I'm starting to see her emerge and I hope she is someone with a bit more serenity. Someone who is more aware of how little control we actually have over the things that happen in our lives and families, so she is able to roll with things better and helps others to do the same. I also hope to see someone with a little bit more humility. I guess I'll see as this journey continues, but it helps me cope to envision a healthy and whole woman whose scars remind her of the wounds that made her who she is...
Next chemo treatment is next Tues, 9/14.

...see how the flesh grows back
across a wound, with a great vehemence,
more strong
than the simple untested surface before.
There's a name for it on horses: proud flesh,
As all flesh
is proud of its wounds, wears them
as honors given out after battle,
small triumphs pinned to the chest---
                        Jane Hirshfield, For What Binds Us

NO WAY!!!!

2010-09-01T06:39:00.000-07:00

Well one week down and 8 to go. Chemo hasn't been that bad so far... It's hard to believe when you are sitting in that chair, IV in your arm draining this very non-threatening clear liquid into your veins, that it is poison. I guess it's hard to believe because you feel fine and everyone is so nice and caring. I felt fine for a few days afterward too and then there were a few rough days (achey, tired, nauseated). Now, things seem to be back to normal for the most part, aside from feeling nauseated at certain tastes/smells (kind of like pregnancy). And the hair is hanging in there for now. Little John turned 22 months a few days ago and on that day he started saying "no way mommy" and running the other way when he doesn't want to do something. I can relate. That's how I feel about cancer and chemo sometimes, but I know it's here to teach me something and that there's no running away. At those times, I try to remember that I can make it and I just keep trying to focus on why I'm doing this. It's not always easy, but shifting my focus to gratitude when the "why me" thoughts come up is the most helpful thing. Here is my gratitude list for today...
I am thankful for...
1. All the kind and caring words and gestures that have come my way over the past week from friends/family. It matters more than you know.
2. Having hair today.
3. My beautiful son and how he makes me laugh every day.
4. The beautiful words my husband wrote me on my birthday that matter more than any material thing.
5. The love and support and physical presence of my parents during this time.
6. The opportunity to laugh and have fun even during tough times.
7. This actual moment right now, that is my life, and the perspective cancer brings to seize it and truly live it.

Next chemo treatment is 9/14 and then I will be halfway done. That's all for now...

I will survive...

2010-08-24T05:02:00.000-07:00

Couldn't sleep much last night as today is the start of chemotherapy. It's the first of four treatments that last 3-3.5 hours. I feel a little scared but am drawing strength from my amazing aunt who powered through 5.5 months of chemo with courage and grace, as well as my mother who went with my aunt to every treatment after her own mastectomy and reconstruction process, and my sister who while dealing with a tumor on her pituitary gland is also planning for her own prophylactic mastectomy. I also feel extremely confident about my decision to do this. My odds of not having a recurrence without chemo are approximately 89%. With chemo they are 94%. I'll take that extra 5%. To me, that represents 5 women out of 100 who will be here for their children because of chemo, to see them off for the first day of school, to comfort them when someone breaks their heart, to watch them graduate from school and get married. It's worth it! It's just hair and 9 weeks of my life. My beautiful mother is here with me to help me take care of my son and offer support. My husband is a rock star who has been so supportive and comforting. My sister and father are with us in spirit. And I know there are many more friends and family that hold us in their prayers and we so greatly appreciate that. We will survive!

I'll get you my pretty, and your little boobies too...

2010-08-21T15:38:00.000-07:00

Here's how it all started...I have always known I was at risk for breast cancer because my maternal grandmother and all four of her sisters had it. I had no idea how high the risk was until Oct 09' when my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She had a mastectomy in Feb 10' and the day after she came home from the hospital we found out my maternal aunt had breast cancer as well. She has had chemo, a mastectomy, and is now starting radiation. I then started having increased surveillance and an ultrasound showed a suspicious looking area. I underwent a biopsy and it showed "possible" cancer cells. What???? My son was 18 months old! I'm only 36 years old!!! I then had an MRI in May 10' which was clear. After that, was the lumpectomy which revealed that I had LCIS on my left side (abnormal cells that increase the risk of breast cancer). Whew!!! What a relief. I didn't have breast cancer yet...so I thought. I chose to undergo a prophylactic mastectomy in June 10' and the pathology report after the surgery showed that I had two invasive tumors on my right side. I then had my lymph nodes removed in July 10' and they were negative. My breast cancer is considered stage I. I then started the process of making the agonizing decision regarding treatment. I could take Tamoxifen for 5 years only or take chemo also to further decrease my chances of a recurrence. I chose to take chemo too. I start next Tuesday, August 24, 2010, 6 days before my 37th birthday. I wouldn't wish a cancer diagnosis on anyone. This has definitely been the most trying time of my life and there is still a difficult road ahead. But, I think that crisis can be a catalyst for change and self-discovery and that is how I intend to use this trial. I have already seen my perspective change as a result of this diagnosis. What is important (family, friends, the little things) becomes increasingly clear and what is not (appearances, material things, petty resentments/conflicts) become so insignificant. I'm also becoming much more aware of the love and compassion of others and how blessed I am to have so many supportive people in my life. I don't know what I would do without them. More to come...