So between Monday 0700, sneaking into the hospital to have a biopsy because my surgeon was desperate to protect my privacy and Wednesday at 0800 I ricocheted between diagnosis and surgery. Within a week I knew that my cancer had a name ... invasive ductal carcinoma (IDC) and a stage (which is somewhat different from having a stage name). I had just donated my Stage 1 IDC breast tumor to the diagnostic community in California for further analysis. Didn't seem quite fair that I couldn't go with it, the cold weather of December having set in with a vengence in the Northeast. Now all that was left to do was "enjoy Christmas" and "try not to think about it". Ok ... what I try not to think about is the fact that I'm overweight. Don't think I'm gonna do so well with ignoring that big elephant in the room.
Some two weeks later I stooped to playing emotional blackmail with Carlos in the California lab to have the results of the recurrence rate faxed to my surgeon. After patiently waiting through a holiday weekend I awaited the promised results of the tumor analysis on Monday. Not so much. But certainly by tomorrow, said the doctor's receptionist. "We expect the results Tuesday." Tuesday afternoon again yielded no results. It was at that point that the patient and Carlos collided. After explaining my plight Carlos informed me that the results would be ready in the morning, which of course is the afternoon on my side of the country. As the results were to be released to an MD in NYS an MD in California had to review the results and confirm them before the lab could fax any paperwork.
Cue the music. "I'm not just a tumor out there in California Carlos. I'm a human being." God only knows where that line came from but it worked. Carlos accepted my pleading as his challenge and promised he would do all he could to facilitate the release of the analysis that afternoon. And he did. It was because of Carlos I now knew that I had an intermediate risk of recurrence and would require both chemotherapy and radiation.
Be careful what you ask for ....
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Oh yeah, the knitting stuff
So back at the ranch, while all of this is going on I am sitting smug in the knowledge that at least my Christmas knitting will be done on time this year. How could I have known? Because I was knitting one pair of mittens for my clerk at work and a sweater vest for my sister for her Christmas/birthday. I mean really, how hard could this be. I'd started the vest back in October having purchased the yarn at Seaport Yarns in Portland, Me. The back was finished, the front was darn near close to being done, just had to finish from the v-neck up. And mittens, hell I was gonna knit them flat and then seam them. No struggling with dpn's for me. Just whip those mittens out in a weekend and be done with it.
Ok, so can you see where this is going to go? Smugness just doesn't suit me. I kept thinking, "well I'm almost finished with the vest" so hello pick it up at some point and finish it. And mittens, c'mon. December is now rapidly approaching and I'm still not seeing the urgency of picking up needles to knit for anyone but moi! Poor, poor moi! I had a little case of cancer. Didn't I deserve to knit for myself?
Two weeks before Christmas I dusted off the vest and finished the front. Then I put it down because now all I had to do was the ribbing at the neckline and arm holes ... oh yeah and sew it together but how long could that take? Mittens, smittens.
One week before Christmas and it suddently occurs to me, hmm? Perhaps I should wrap those gifts. Nah, I'll wait because I really hate to wrap. And besides I won't be seeing the grandbabes until after the holidays. I should knit. Out comes the vest. And after one day of sewing it's all but finished! Yeah me. I'll put that aside and start those mittens.
Have you ever knit mittens flat and sewn them together? I have and it usually works well. I picked up needles one weekend knit along, happy as can be, proud of myself for not having to use dpn's and not smart enough to measure them for length. Somehow it was only after finishing the darn things that I noted I had ended up with mittens whose thumb hole was just a tad too close to the tops of the mittens. And when sewn together and after I had knitted the thumbs did I notice that they just were not gonna fit. Unless perhaps you had webbed hands like a duck....or a frog. Ribbit! that's what happened to the mittens. They were frogged and still remain unfinished.
The vest, well...I knit the ribbing on Christmas eve never even thinking that I might want to choose a smaller needle to do same. The ribbing came out wavy, a very feminine wavy, sort of like the edge of a lasagne noodle. Not so great because my sister is not a very feminine wavy kind of woman. On Christmas morning I gave my sister her vest without ribbing and promised to finish it asap. And I did. I still wasn't happy with the ribbing and wanted to frog-it once again. However Mary would hear none of it. She was afraid she'd never get a chance to wear her vest. So she took it home with her one afternoon. And has worn it several times since.
The grandkids gifts did get wrapped, the night before I headed North to see them for the holidays. I recognize that this means I should probably start my holiday knitting in July like Luna and I should wrap gifts as I buy them. But I'm also thinking life might just be too short to plan that far ahead.
Ok, so can you see where this is going to go? Smugness just doesn't suit me. I kept thinking, "well I'm almost finished with the vest" so hello pick it up at some point and finish it. And mittens, c'mon. December is now rapidly approaching and I'm still not seeing the urgency of picking up needles to knit for anyone but moi! Poor, poor moi! I had a little case of cancer. Didn't I deserve to knit for myself?
Two weeks before Christmas I dusted off the vest and finished the front. Then I put it down because now all I had to do was the ribbing at the neckline and arm holes ... oh yeah and sew it together but how long could that take? Mittens, smittens.
One week before Christmas and it suddently occurs to me, hmm? Perhaps I should wrap those gifts. Nah, I'll wait because I really hate to wrap. And besides I won't be seeing the grandbabes until after the holidays. I should knit. Out comes the vest. And after one day of sewing it's all but finished! Yeah me. I'll put that aside and start those mittens.
Have you ever knit mittens flat and sewn them together? I have and it usually works well. I picked up needles one weekend knit along, happy as can be, proud of myself for not having to use dpn's and not smart enough to measure them for length. Somehow it was only after finishing the darn things that I noted I had ended up with mittens whose thumb hole was just a tad too close to the tops of the mittens. And when sewn together and after I had knitted the thumbs did I notice that they just were not gonna fit. Unless perhaps you had webbed hands like a duck....or a frog. Ribbit! that's what happened to the mittens. They were frogged and still remain unfinished.
The vest, well...I knit the ribbing on Christmas eve never even thinking that I might want to choose a smaller needle to do same. The ribbing came out wavy, a very feminine wavy, sort of like the edge of a lasagne noodle. Not so great because my sister is not a very feminine wavy kind of woman. On Christmas morning I gave my sister her vest without ribbing and promised to finish it asap. And I did. I still wasn't happy with the ribbing and wanted to frog-it once again. However Mary would hear none of it. She was afraid she'd never get a chance to wear her vest. So she took it home with her one afternoon. And has worn it several times since.
The grandkids gifts did get wrapped, the night before I headed North to see them for the holidays. I recognize that this means I should probably start my holiday knitting in July like Luna and I should wrap gifts as I buy them. But I'm also thinking life might just be too short to plan that far ahead.
Monday, January 25, 2010
And so it came to pass
Wednesday morning before Thanksgiving I went to work and called my faithful surgeon friend Zoe. I told her my concerns and she went into overdrive ordering tests and scans and blood work and ultrasounds all in the same day."Geez Louise", I thought. Good thing nothing is gonna come of this because Zoe's energy would wear me out before diagnosis time. Yes I was convinced that all would be well because in our family there was no history of breast cancer. Oh we had our cancers all right. Colon on the paternal side (but thankfully not the pater himself) and skin cancer. Matter of fact that was where father was presently excelling as he had skin cancer with mets. Just diagnosed, just surged. And the family didn't need any more drama. I was kind of figuring that the colon being in a whole separate part of the body and on the inside to boot there'd be no chance of my Grandmother Anastasia's cancer being related to my breast lump. A lump, by the way, which I could not feel the next morning. And darned if I wasn't correct. No corealtion at all. Not that that ended up doing me any good.
So testing complete the world shut down for the Thanksgiving holiday. I had survived the urge to clock the radiologist who'd come into the room after reading the mammograms and ultrasound that Wednesday afternoon to tell me, in all freaking seriousness .... "I found a lump." Well no idiot you didn't find a lump. Matter of fact it was me. I found it. It's mine. So there. Men.
Thursday a.m. I tottled up to the hospital and signed on to the website which posts results of patient exams. I looked mine up knowing that it would say "1 cm. benign appearing nodule at 12 o'clock in the left breast. Clinical corealtion not necessary." However someone switched reports. Mine read, "1 cm. nodule highly suspicous for malignancy at 12 o'clock in the left breast. Clinical corealtion advised.".
And time stood still. Shit. Are you kidding me?
So testing complete the world shut down for the Thanksgiving holiday. I had survived the urge to clock the radiologist who'd come into the room after reading the mammograms and ultrasound that Wednesday afternoon to tell me, in all freaking seriousness .... "I found a lump." Well no idiot you didn't find a lump. Matter of fact it was me. I found it. It's mine. So there. Men.
Thursday a.m. I tottled up to the hospital and signed on to the website which posts results of patient exams. I looked mine up knowing that it would say "1 cm. benign appearing nodule at 12 o'clock in the left breast. Clinical corealtion not necessary." However someone switched reports. Mine read, "1 cm. nodule highly suspicous for malignancy at 12 o'clock in the left breast. Clinical corealtion advised.".
And time stood still. Shit. Are you kidding me?
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Knitting My Way Through Chemo
aka, I have an affected side.
As a health care provider I am wise to the ways of the cancer patient. No IVs, blood pressures or blood draws from the "affected side". Which is to say if the patient has breast cancer don't use the side of the body where the cancer was removed. Easy enough I always thought. Until I caught a little case of cancer myself. Suddenly I realized that I was affected. Not just a side but the whole me. Life was no longer going to be the same. I was gonna have to try and figure this whole cancer thing out, how I was going to approach the post-operative phase, the scars, the weirdness of do I or don't I now have breast cancer and best of all chemotherapy.
All of these years I've been the smug one. I got my original cancer at a relatively young age and it was totally curable. Ha, ha! Thyroid cancer was a relative breeze. Have the thyroid out, drink some nuclear waste to get rid of any lingering cells and then milk the diagnosis to death. Yes, that's right. I've had cancer. I'm like one of you! And I was smart enough to pick the good cancer. Brilliant I tell you. I had picked the good one.
So imagine my surprise one evening some 10 years later when I'm climbing out of the shower drying off and I feel a lump. Hmm? A lump? C'mon, what's this about? Well my friend this is about the most exciting challenge life has presented me yet. An adventure I'm about to share.
As a health care provider I am wise to the ways of the cancer patient. No IVs, blood pressures or blood draws from the "affected side". Which is to say if the patient has breast cancer don't use the side of the body where the cancer was removed. Easy enough I always thought. Until I caught a little case of cancer myself. Suddenly I realized that I was affected. Not just a side but the whole me. Life was no longer going to be the same. I was gonna have to try and figure this whole cancer thing out, how I was going to approach the post-operative phase, the scars, the weirdness of do I or don't I now have breast cancer and best of all chemotherapy.
All of these years I've been the smug one. I got my original cancer at a relatively young age and it was totally curable. Ha, ha! Thyroid cancer was a relative breeze. Have the thyroid out, drink some nuclear waste to get rid of any lingering cells and then milk the diagnosis to death. Yes, that's right. I've had cancer. I'm like one of you! And I was smart enough to pick the good cancer. Brilliant I tell you. I had picked the good one.
So imagine my surprise one evening some 10 years later when I'm climbing out of the shower drying off and I feel a lump. Hmm? A lump? C'mon, what's this about? Well my friend this is about the most exciting challenge life has presented me yet. An adventure I'm about to share.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
