MRI Eve

September 8, 2009 Tuesday

Okay, so I need to sleep, but I can't. Oddly nervous about the morning and the impending MRI Biopsy. I've had time away from the trauma of all the biopsies and tests, and I'm not ready to go back to work, so to say. So, ironically, as my son heads off for his first day of High School and is eager to meet new kids, teachers, and dive into learning, I am the reluctant school child who will most likely be dragging my heels to the MRI machine. The thought of yet another biopsy needle puncturing my Right breast, AGAIN, is not only daunting; it's annoying. What did my right boob do to deserve this, poor little thing.

Today was fun to be back to what I know, encouraging my kids as they prepared for auditions. Both did well today, and so I'm very happy. Ian with a callback, and Sarah feeling excellent about her audition for Alex Payne's new film. Come on Alex, hire my kid, I want to visit her in Hawaii. I'm not afraid to say it out loud, I want her to get this for purely selfish reasons. I know she doesn't need me there, nor does she really want me there. What 18 year old girl would want Mommy lurking on the beach while she flirts with the cute surfer boys? But I'd find a reason to go. Something, something...I know, there is new research that shows that moms who go to Hawaii when they have breast cancer helps to reduce the size of the tumor, and eases their mental stress. It ought to be covered by insurance, Right? ~ Look, one can dream.

Anyway, I'm hoping to get a good night's sleep, free from invasions of the troubled mind.

Wish me luck, and envision a right breast with NOTHING to biopsy. Only Mr. Lumpy, grumpy Lumpy. Sitting there, saying Crap! She won't let me have any fun. All I can say is, "It's very impolite to move into some nice woman's breast without her permission. Bad form! very bad form!"

Nite.

Melissa

Labor Day

September 7, 2009 Monday

Well, It's Labor Day. 6:30 in the morning and I can't sleep. The thoughts invading my sleep. How are we going to pay for this? Will I have one of those "drive-thru" surgeries? Can I handle the chemo? What will I look like with no hair? Will I puke all the time? On and on, so I had to wake up and get away from it. It's so quiet here, only the kitties romping and chasing each other after their morning meal. The drone of the television in the background. Traffic heads down the Avenue and the sun is rising. Don't feel sad for me, I'm not sad, just full of questions that have to be pondered. I'm not ready to ask the real question...What will my chest look like? Ugh.

It brought back a memory from my days at Dundee Church Camp. I can't remember the year, probably 7th grade, but I was sitting at the big round table with all of my friends, we were chattering away, I was drinking Milk. And one of the prettiest girls in camp, Laura (can't remember her last name) started laughing and pointed at me and said, "Drink Milk!" I was like, HuH? It was the way I was holding my milk glass, sitting sideways on my chair, my elbow perched on the back of the seat, glass held high as if I were at a cocktail party, and my breasts thrust forward, small as they were, I was trying hard to impress. It became the running joke between us girls. Drink milk we would squeal in passing and it always induced gales of laughter. I've enjoyed these "girls" for a long time. My Grandmother always told me much to my mother's chagrin that if you have it flaunt it. So I did. Often. My favorite place on earth? Victoria's Secret. In my twenties, I would spend much of my paycheck at VS. As a mom, I went practical at VS. When Sarah began to bud, there we were at VS. The pretty bra and panties, my secret weakness. There you all know now, I have an addiction to VS. What will it be like now.? I have been wearing these old sports bras now for two weeks, I never liked them, but now they have become my prison sentence.

I have to make a decision. Lumpectomy or Mastectomy. That is unless my MRI biopsy comes back positive. If that is the case, the decision will be made for me. Mastectomy. Then the decision becomes, single or double? Will insurance pay for reconstruction? It's my decision, I have to make it. It's a little like playing 21. You are on the bubble, your close to 21, but not enough to win, and you know it. So do you fold, or do you do the bold thing and gamble away all of your money and hope you can beat the House. A high stakes game, I can't bluff, I have to decide.

I was able to ignore this for two days. Joke it away. Ian and I went for lunch with friends on Saturday. Mothers and children. Hamburgers and shakes. A walk through Union Square's artists. A beautiful day, warm, not too hot, just right. We sat on the benches in the park and enjoyed each other's company. There were people there with signs reading "Free HUGS" So I took advantage of the hugs and then asked THEM if they felt better, and they laughed. So many people just walking past them, not taking advantage of the 'Free Hugs' Why? To hug is to feel better. They did, they were happy that someone actually took them seriously. We hugged tight. Random strangers. I started a hug fest, because Ian, Harley, and Bobbie all followed suit. Had I not started it, I doubt it would have happened. We might have commented how funny and cute, but would have moved on. Random hugs, for no reason = GOOD. Would I have done that had I not had the diagnosis of cancer? Probably not, I'd like to think I would have taken advantage, but I have to be honest, no probably not, unless I knew one of them. Thanks my mystery Huggers. Where ever you are. You made my day. We wandered home to show off Ed's DYI skills. My bathroom awesome, my balcony coming together quickly. My plant arrangement still alive. That in itself is a miracle.

Sunday, Sally and Pentii came down from NH to get the bed Ed built back when Sarah was 3. A huge hulking captain's bed with tons of storage. Now all that "storage" is stacked neatly in brown bags under Ian's Loft bed. Bags of youth. Stuffed toys from Beanie Babies to the entire collection of Winnie the Pooh. Baby dolls and Bionicles. Baby and Toddler clothing too precious to let go. Another question invades the mind. What do I do with all that stuff? Is it really time to let go of it? So there it sits, patiently waiting for me to make up my mind. We go for a late lunch and then head up to move the bed to the truck waiting on 6th St. We finally got the behemoth loaded and sent the bed to exile in Athol, MA to live out its remaining years at the Lake House were I'm sure it will be better appreciated. We settled in to enjoy our living room, without the bed (which had been moved there days before). Talked with friends on the phone who cheered me on, and then I went to bed. A great day all in all. Got the kid's room cleaned up (it was a huge mess), got rid of the captains bed, got to see Sally and Pentii, good day.

So, today, I'm hoping that we can get down to Battery City Park. Take a walk, see a movie. Wednesday's MRI biopsy lurks. My breasts are still sore from the PEM Scan, especially the left side. Both funky multi-colored bruises remind me of the past two weeks struggle. I find myself rolling my shoulders in to Protect? Hide? my breasts? A long way from the teenage girl who so proudly thrust out her A cup breasts trying so hard to make them look fuller, so the boys would drool over her the way they did with Laura, the prettiest girl in camp. "We must, We must. WE must develop our bust. The bigger the better, the tighter the sweater, the boys depend on us."

Happy Labor Day to every person who works hard for a living and makes less than their worth. To Mother's everywhere. Our second Mother's Day. WE are the ultimate Laborers.

Love and Light!

xoxox

Melissa

TGIF

September 4, 2009 Friday

T.G.I.F. I had my MRI of my shoulder today. The least annoying of all the tests. I did have my shoulder all trussed up like a Turkey though. But I was a good girl, I didn't move so the session was shorter than the 45 minutes. Only 25 and I was done for the Labor Day Weekend. This is my new job. The hours are unpredictable, I have many bosses, and the pay is lousy! I can't believe I pay to work. Jeez~!

Ed is busy working around the house trying like mad to get everything in order before he leaves for Albany. Ian is cramming in the last minute days with his friends before school starts, and I have enrolled in the School of Survival. I am reading everything I can to understand what I can. Writing down questions to ask the doctors is my number 1 priority now. Number 1. Is this an outpatient procedure? Will I be out of the hospital within 24 hours!? I just read an article in the October 2009 issue of O magazine. I can't believe women have to check out of the hospital after having both breasts removed within 24 hours because the Insurance Companies value us so little. I wonder what their mothers think of those MEN in their expensive suits, driving their expensive cars, making decisions on how to hoard the money that hard working citizens give them to supposedly insure they will be taken care of. This makes me so hopping mad. You all know that if a man had to have his balls removed he'd get to stay for a week and get a massage everyday. Women are devalued. We are last in line for research, the studies are set up for men, not women. We carried our children for nine months, nursed them, cleaned them, feed them, clothed them, and gave up so much so they could have more. Then how is it these men, because let's face it, the majority of the decision makers at Insurance Companies are men, say, "Women can and should go home after losing their breasts within 24 hours." Okay. I'm on my high horse tonight. But really, people complain about Public Option and fear of having their "choices" taken away? I think we already don't get a say, and the doctors who know best are dictated to by "suits" who know NOTHING about medicine nor healing.

Things have to change, we deserve some respect, we deserve to stay in the hospital until the doctors say we can go home. Going home after having a baby within 24 hours is one thing. Major medical surgery.....ummm....jeez....

Anyway. Just soap boxing. I'm looking forward to a great weekend. Lunch with friends, perhaps Battery Park to go to the New Amsterdam Festival and pretending for the weekend that all is well.

Happy Labor Day Weekend, be sure to thank those who work hard for little money.

Nite!

Melissa

Good Day vs. Bad Day

September 3, 2009 Thursday

The difference between a Good Day and a Bad Day? The voicemail message from your radiology doctor. Today was a Good Day. My Stereotactic biopsy for my left breast came in and it was negative. No cancer on the left side. Made my day. No, 'Call me, I have your results.' or 'No matter what time it is even if you have to call my cell phone, we must speak today.' Only "Just wanted you to go into the weekend with good news. The left side is benign. Have a great weekend."

I had such a great day today. That news was so very welcome. Then I got a beautiful arrangement from Viki, Mike, Juli, and Matt. It is wonderful. It's out on the balcony, and looks terrific out there. I only hope I can keep it going until my mom gets here, the woman who truly has a green thumb, unlike my black thumb. Thank you so much. Then I opened a card from my friends Julie and David, you know how to make me smile. Then another from John and Bonnie. A singing card that warmed my heart. I went off to the Soka Gkkai International Center, and met Rose where I tried to keep up with the chanting. I'm a beginner and I can't believe how fast Nam-myoho-renge-kyo can be chanted. I'll get there, but I think I belong in the beginner's class. lol After the meeting, Rose took me to the bookstore at the center and gave me a set of prayer beads. What a lovely gift. Thank you Rosie. I picked a green set or rather they seemed to pick me. I feel great everyone, and I know, I know there will be many days I won't, there will be many days I'll want to give up, but I'm going to focus really hard on not having many. Ideally, I'd like to say I had one really bad day, the first day of diagnosis, and the rest never came close.

Tomorrow I have the MRI of my shoulder for Dr. Berman, and the rest of the weekend is mine to enjoy. I look forward to this weekend. It is the second to last weekend I have with Ed before he heads off to Albany to begin work on The Seafarer at Cap Rep for six weeks.

It's funny, I've spent all of Sarah's 18 years of life prepared for the "Left Shoe" to fall; fall on Sarah, not me. Now, that shoe has fallen on my head. Unprepared, dazed and confused, hurt, feeling betrayed by the Universe, I've risen to the occasion. It's odd for me to take care of me, and yet, it feels good to care about me and only me. I'm finding my family can and will pick up the slack, I guess I never gave them the opportunity nor did I make them. I can't believe how easy it is. I thought if I did that nothing would get done. What a fool I was. I'm so proud of my family and how strong everyone is. I guess I've done okay. We are all strong, I don't have to be strong for everyone, I just forgot to be strong for me.

Have a great nite!

Melissa

September 2, 2009 Wednesday

Adding on. I hope that many people have been watching So You Think You Can Dance. I love this show, it feeds my soul. This past season Melissa and Ada did a dance routine choreographed by Tice Deorio (not sure of the spelling, sorry if I got it wrong) about a woman's struggle with breast cancer. The first time I watched this piece I was moved to tears, it was so incredibly beautiful. Like Mia Michaels, I too lost my dad to colon cancer, and it made me think of him, but also the beauty and grace that comes from adversity. Melissa and Ada nailed this piece and made America move. Tonight the show was on again showing the best of the best from the past five seasons. This piece was shown last as the best piece to be danced in all five seasons. Nigel was right. Tonight I have a deeper connection to this dance. Tonight, I want to be that Melissa, to be graceful and beautiful in the face of adversity. Tonight, I was moved in a way I thought not possible. If this dance is not nominated for an Emmy next year, I will go absolutely nuts. I will dance that dance in my mind, my heart, my soul everyday until I beat this monster. I promise. We have to make a difference even in the smallest of ways.

I cried then, I cried harder tonight, tonight I cried, and cried, and cried. It felt good. Believe me it felt good.

September 2, 2009 Wednesday

Hello Cancer Spa. Today was my PET AND PEM SCANS. I decided to approach today like a day at the spa. It kinda was similar. Instead of Botox, I got an injection of radiated glucose. Instead of a smoothie with an umbrella skewering fruit, I got an uber big raspberry barium smoothie. I got to relax in a private room with a warm fan and comfy blanket for an hour = meditation. Then I went to the CT room and it was actually quite relaxing in there. Tight, but well lit and they had cool air blowing in. I closed My eyes and pretended to be in an oxygen tank to feed my skin. Then back to the meditation room again for 30 minutes, and off to the breast room for my PEM, the least favorite of the treatments. A small mammo machine, you ladies know of what I speak of, but a sweet darling tech, named Debbie. So caring and kind. The odd positions I put my body into to get the best reading were not unlike yoga. So Yoga it became in my mind. My right side went really well, but the left side had to be reshot because I had the stereotactic yesterday and it lit up like a Xmas tree because of the puncture for the biopsy. I relaxed for 30 minutes, had some juice in a box, a nutrigrain bar and then back for some more "yoga". All in all it went well, the Radiologist Doc said my films were beautiful. Her words boys. be jealous of Ed now. I officially have beautiful breasts. HA! And they are mine, for now.

I left feeling relaxed, refreshed, and good about myself. Now someone dare to tell me I didn't spend the day at the spa? Huh? No takers? I thought not.

I made my appointment for My MRI of my shoulder to get ready to say goodbye to my "third boob" on the back of my shoulder. (lypoma for those who don't get it). Friday 3:15. So Hey! I'm happy, I can have chocolate again! I get a day off from the doctors and tests, and then I get the weekend as well.

To anyone who is scared of this, don't be, it is an opportunity to take care of yourself. Moms don't do that usually, so Moms, be good to yourself.

I think I'll have some more chocolate now.

Nite!

Melissa

September 1, 2009 Tuesday

Well, after a sleepless night, thanks ever so much Blue and Niki, I woke at 6:30am and got ready to go back to what is becoming my place, Manhattan Diagnostic Radiology. Ed and I were both ready to strangle the cats. Of all nights, they decided that pushing their playtoys under the scale I keep in my room was a fun activity. We'd remove them, they'd bring the toys back in and do the same thing over and over again. Shutting them out meant a room with no air, so finally Ed removed the scale. We humans are pretty slow. So tired, stressed out, and reluctant, I had Ed drive me to the center. I had the stereotactic on the left side today and that went okay...not great, why would it be? It hurts. The good side of it, I didn't bleed too much, just a little. Thank God. It did hurt though, I felt the biopsy needle even through the numbing meds. So I bit down and asked for more meds. It didn't help, but Dr. Scheer was almost done, so I just had to take it. Bitch. Soon it was over, and I did my time in compression, did my post mammo and went back in to see if the doctor could find the spot that lit up on my MRI from Friday. A small spot, hard to see, but worth a try on ultra sound. She searched and searched, but Lumpy, Jr. would not come out of his hiding place. The little B*st*rd. So it was decided to do the MRI biopsy. I dressed, scheduled the MRI and got my films and reports for Dr Axelrod's appointment later in the day and got out of there in record time. So the first time I ever left there in under 2 hours. MIRACLE!!!! So I got to go home, rest, eat, and kiss my son good luck before his Callback for an episodic (won't tell you so's not to jinx it) and was able to get to Dr Axelrod's on time, rested and ready to get the news, whatever it may be.

Ed met me at the Surgery appointment, and I got to say NYU knows how to do this WHOLE patient thingy. It's so civilized and relaxed. They put the patient first. How many times can someone say that? So I met my team today. Nurse Michelle, Dr. Axelrod, and a host of names I'll eventually get down. I've always been bad at names, never forget a face, but the names...anywho...I did my history, blah, blah,blah, and then Dr. Axelrod came in, she remembered me from lo those many years ago. Thank God! It made me relax right away. I couldn't believe it. So we talked, she looked at the films, my boobs, my neck, my armpits, and did a needle biopsy under my armpit. All i can say is , "OUCH!" But compared to everything I've been through so far, more annoying than awful. We talked some more about my Mr. Lumpy. Want to know what she said? I know you do. So here is the good news.

1. Mr. Lumpy is not estrogen or progesterone sensitive. VERY GOOD

2.Mr. Lumpy is about 2cm big

3. My armpit nodes were Negative. VERY VERY GOOD

4. My lypoma is finally going to get removed. VERY VERY VERY GOOD NEWS.

Note for those who don't know about my lypoma: When Ian was about 3 or 4 we were holding hands and crossing the street, I stepped in a hole started to fall; Ian started to fall and would have face planted in the pavement below, so I stuck my arm out as only Mother's are known to do and broke his fall and dislocated my shoulder. Super ouch. But after that the shoulder was a major mess. I had PT to strengthen the muscles, and when all was said and done, I developed what I called "My Third Boob". It has grown over the years and has been the bane of my life for years. It makes my right shoulder roll forward, causes numbness in my arm, and pulls my neck out of alignment all the time, and yet the insurance company told the surgeon it would be cosmetic and therefore they would not pay for it.

Well, = P that Insurance. It's coming off. Part of treatment and I didn't even have to ask for it.

Bad news is

1. Mr. Lumpy is an aggressive growing Pr*ck

2. I have to have more tests. Of course

3. I have to meet with another surgeon for the lypoma

So-So news

I'll be getting a port, so don't look at my chest when you see me and wonder what the heck that bump is? It's the place I'll be getting meds for the next year.

What makes Life worth Living?

Ian ~ when I told him I couldn't be there to see him off for the first day of school, his response was "That's okay, Mom, Instead of seeing me off to school, I'll see you off for treatment." I love that kid.

Ed~ just for always being there and uber protective. I love that man

Barbara ~ for the kickin' socks and lovely card

Cheryl ~ for being my Breast Angel and giving me the best Breast Cancer Kit EVER!

Sarah ~ for trying to call me today. 3000 miles away and yet she still is thinking of me. Gotta love that from a newly sprung teenager.

All of You ~ for everything you do in supporting me in all the small ways that mean so much.

A clean meal tonight and then in the morning...Pet and Pem Scans. Life was good today. I got good news. Surgery will be scheduled most likely the week of Sept. 20. Hang in there gang, I'll be through the worst of it soon enough. F*ck you Mr. Lumpy!!!! See ya, Mr. Lumpy, wouldn't want to be ya.

Nite all

Melissa