Wow, it feels like a million years since I wrote last. Summer has been crazy busy and I've had a few setbacks that stopped me from wanting to write. I decided I needed to write about those setbacks if I want to move forward. Writing has been a therapy for me and so I've decided to keep going...
The nurses were moving into my room every hour... so it seemed. All I wanted to do was sleep. It was so hard for me to focus on anything or get myself to move. Two nurses came in about 10:00 that night and decided I needed to sit up. I had just had major abdominal surgery just hours before... and they want me to do what? They had to help me pull my legs over the edge of the bed and each held my arms to lift me off the bed. I was annoyed. In this moment I flashed back to an eeriely similar moment just a couple years prior.
Two nurses were on either side of my husband trying to lift him up to sit him up for the first time after his surgery. This was his second day in ICU and was just coming to. I recall how unsteady he was. He has always been my strong protector, and in this moment he looked so vulnerable and weak. He was so fragile and barely made it up the first time. I wondered if he was just as annoyed then as I was now.
My husband just underwent brain surgery for an aucostic-neuroma brain tumor and was now in the hospital recovering. I never imagined we'd be in this same position more than once. But here I was... just like him.. both diagnosed with cancer at 29 years old.
As I was sitting up, annoyed at the nurses and thinking of my husband, I wondered why God decided that BOTH of us would go though this. Didn't our family go through enough yet?
I realize now that I asked myself "Why?" quite often at that stage. Since then I've decided that God must think we're pretty tough to put us through this twice so young. You know the saying... "God only gives you what He knows you can handle."
Yep... we're pretty tough.
...
Monday, August 1, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Radio Short Story contest
I wrote this for KLove's (Christian radio station) Sanctus Real story contest. I only had a 250 word limit, so I condensed BIG TIME... I know I'm usually a bit wordy.
"There is no heartbeat." Those were the words I replayed over and over in my head for almost a year. Our overwhelming joy of trying to grow our family came to a complete halt. These were the only words I heard and remember from my doctor appointment that day.
I was angry and discouraged with God. And I couldn't understand why this was happening.
After a year I was pregnant again, while sitting on pins and needles, I kept thinking something was going to be wrong. I just knew it.
There was something wrong, only with me, not the baby. While pregnant my doctors discovered a growth on one of my ovaries, gone undetected until this point.
I was soon diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I became a new mother to a healthy baby boy and was now facing cancer all within the same day.
I asked God one question, "Why?"
My question was answered with a very direct "why not."
I soon realized God's timing was everything. Through the 2nd pregnancy the cancer was found early, at a Stage 1. My beautiful baby boy saved my life, but more importantly God saved my life. He loved me unconditionally even though I was so angry with Him.
What an amazing God we have.
...
"There is no heartbeat." Those were the words I replayed over and over in my head for almost a year. Our overwhelming joy of trying to grow our family came to a complete halt. These were the only words I heard and remember from my doctor appointment that day.
I was angry and discouraged with God. And I couldn't understand why this was happening.
After a year I was pregnant again, while sitting on pins and needles, I kept thinking something was going to be wrong. I just knew it.
There was something wrong, only with me, not the baby. While pregnant my doctors discovered a growth on one of my ovaries, gone undetected until this point.
I was soon diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I became a new mother to a healthy baby boy and was now facing cancer all within the same day.
I asked God one question, "Why?"
My question was answered with a very direct "why not."
I soon realized God's timing was everything. Through the 2nd pregnancy the cancer was found early, at a Stage 1. My beautiful baby boy saved my life, but more importantly God saved my life. He loved me unconditionally even though I was so angry with Him.
What an amazing God we have.
...
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Nurses really do have angel wings.
I tossed and turned all night. I still couldn't figure out why the back of my head hurt so bad. I had to lay on one side or the other... not directly back. It hurt more than my incision (vampire bite) area's.
My nurse came in that morning around 6 am. I was wide awake. I was getting used to their routine by now since this was probably the millionth time they came in to check my vitals. This nurse was different though. She looked about my age and seemed to be very fun and caring. She took one look at me and said "What's wrong? You look so sad."
I wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. I had just been through a major surgery, I was awaiting results to find out if the cancer had spread, I didn't sleep at all the night before, and my head was hurting like crazy! I just looked at her with a puzzled look on my face.
She sat down next to me on my bed and started telling me about her story... which completely mirrored mine. While she was pregnant with her son, her doctor's found a cyst on her ovary that was later diagnosed as ovarian cancer. She went through the same surgery as I had just gone through the day before.
She described her feelings of hate, sadness, hopelessness and also her rejoice and relief. We talked for a while when I finally let it all out. What an amazing feeling to be able to release all my thoughts and feelings to this woman who was a complete stranger before that morning. I was able to tell her about all my feelings, because I knew she would know how I feel. She's been there. I've always been a big believer that God puts us through trials and tribulations so that one day we can turn around and help someone else going through the same thing. This was her opportunity... I didn't realize at the time how much I needed that. I couldn't "really" talk to anyone about this that I knew because I knew they wouldn't understand the way that my nurse did that day.
I also came to realize something else that day. She was right, I did look sad. I knew this surgery marked the end of my ability to have more children. I knew before the surgery I was done... but this really made it official. I didn't think I would be that sad about it, but I was. And she helped me figure out that it was okay to be.
After we talked she told me, "Everyday I look at my beautiful son and realize how lucky I am he saved my life." I know I've said those words as well and couldn't agree with her more.
My nurse that day is my inspiration for this blog. I needed some way to release and vent my feelings and at the same time in hopes to help someone else.
Thank you Jennifer for being there for me that day and know our conversation has stuck with me since.
...
My nurse came in that morning around 6 am. I was wide awake. I was getting used to their routine by now since this was probably the millionth time they came in to check my vitals. This nurse was different though. She looked about my age and seemed to be very fun and caring. She took one look at me and said "What's wrong? You look so sad."
I wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. I had just been through a major surgery, I was awaiting results to find out if the cancer had spread, I didn't sleep at all the night before, and my head was hurting like crazy! I just looked at her with a puzzled look on my face.
She sat down next to me on my bed and started telling me about her story... which completely mirrored mine. While she was pregnant with her son, her doctor's found a cyst on her ovary that was later diagnosed as ovarian cancer. She went through the same surgery as I had just gone through the day before.
She described her feelings of hate, sadness, hopelessness and also her rejoice and relief. We talked for a while when I finally let it all out. What an amazing feeling to be able to release all my thoughts and feelings to this woman who was a complete stranger before that morning. I was able to tell her about all my feelings, because I knew she would know how I feel. She's been there. I've always been a big believer that God puts us through trials and tribulations so that one day we can turn around and help someone else going through the same thing. This was her opportunity... I didn't realize at the time how much I needed that. I couldn't "really" talk to anyone about this that I knew because I knew they wouldn't understand the way that my nurse did that day.
I also came to realize something else that day. She was right, I did look sad. I knew this surgery marked the end of my ability to have more children. I knew before the surgery I was done... but this really made it official. I didn't think I would be that sad about it, but I was. And she helped me figure out that it was okay to be.
After we talked she told me, "Everyday I look at my beautiful son and realize how lucky I am he saved my life." I know I've said those words as well and couldn't agree with her more.
My nurse that day is my inspiration for this blog. I needed some way to release and vent my feelings and at the same time in hopes to help someone else.
Thank you Jennifer for being there for me that day and know our conversation has stuck with me since.
...
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Cancer took my lady junk
I was suddenly awakened by three nurses. They bombarded me with checking all my vitals. I didn't feel very much alive, but I'm sure that's what they were checking. As they were checking my vampire bites AKA incision areas, one of the nurses put an estrogen patch on me. She was explaining that now that I was surgically-induced menopausal, I would start having symptoms right away.
I was laughing inside my head when I said, "oh... right... menopausal at 29..." She thought I was serious and started telling me how this was necessary and yada yada yada, that's when I realized she didn't hear me laugh inside my head. I stopped her and said, "I was joking."
She took a sigh of relief and then changed her tune. She thought I was pretty lucky not having to "deal" with monthly cycles anymore. I agreed, I did feel pretty lucky about that.
However, my feeling of luck dwindled as I realized cancer took my lady junk. I felt empty inside. What made me- me, was now gone.
That's when I decided cancer was a jerk.
As these nurses were checking everything, all I wanted to do was sleep. I was a mom to a newborn and the thought of sleeping through the night had been unheard of since he was born. It was 9:00 pm, the nurses just left my room and I was starting to close my eyes for a nice, long sleep.
Then I couldn't sleep.
...
I was laughing inside my head when I said, "oh... right... menopausal at 29..." She thought I was serious and started telling me how this was necessary and yada yada yada, that's when I realized she didn't hear me laugh inside my head. I stopped her and said, "I was joking."
She took a sigh of relief and then changed her tune. She thought I was pretty lucky not having to "deal" with monthly cycles anymore. I agreed, I did feel pretty lucky about that.
However, my feeling of luck dwindled as I realized cancer took my lady junk. I felt empty inside. What made me- me, was now gone.
That's when I decided cancer was a jerk.
As these nurses were checking everything, all I wanted to do was sleep. I was a mom to a newborn and the thought of sleeping through the night had been unheard of since he was born. It was 9:00 pm, the nurses just left my room and I was starting to close my eyes for a nice, long sleep.
Then I couldn't sleep.
...
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Post-Surgery
My body is shaking uncontrollably. I'm freezing cold. My throat feels on fire and cannot speak. I can't open my eyes; simply due to not having any strength. I keep shaking in hopes that a nurse will see me and give me a warm blanket. This worked, I did get the warm blanket, but I'm still cold. I keep shivering unable to get warm. I'm wondering why the nurse isn't giving me another blanket, unable to open my eyes, I can't see if anyone is paying attention to me.
Suddenly I hear a voice talking through a phone. At least this is my assumption since I can't hear the person on the other end. "She's been sleeping for over 2 hours now, she needs to go to her room. She's starting to wake up..." and she went on with some other medical gibberish that I now can't remember. All I kept thinking was that I wanted another blanket. I shivered more hoping she would see me. I was so cold.
I could tell she was near me when I finally had the strength to whisper "cold.... blanket." She proceeded by taking my temperature and telling me I was too hot and couldn't receive another blanket since I was running a fever. Dang. I continued to shiver.
I was suddenly being moved. I still couldn't open my eyes. I'm sure my perception was off, but I'm pretty sure I went through an elevator and down a couple hallways to get to my room.
I was so tired all I wanted to do was sleep. Paul was finally able to come and see me and he told me he was waiting in the family lounge for over 7 hours. Still unable to talk or really open my eyes, I kept trying to tell him my head was hurting. I'm sure I managed to get the words out somehow... and he took the pony-tail out that I had in. My hair was engrossed with iodine, it felt dirty, but I didn't care I just wanted to sleep. My head hurt so bad I couldn't get comfortable, I had to try and sleep from one side or another.
I'm not sure how long Paul stayed there, but I remember thinking I wanted him to go eat something and get some rest. After he left, all I could do was sleep.
....
Suddenly I hear a voice talking through a phone. At least this is my assumption since I can't hear the person on the other end. "She's been sleeping for over 2 hours now, she needs to go to her room. She's starting to wake up..." and she went on with some other medical gibberish that I now can't remember. All I kept thinking was that I wanted another blanket. I shivered more hoping she would see me. I was so cold.
I could tell she was near me when I finally had the strength to whisper "cold.... blanket." She proceeded by taking my temperature and telling me I was too hot and couldn't receive another blanket since I was running a fever. Dang. I continued to shiver.
I was suddenly being moved. I still couldn't open my eyes. I'm sure my perception was off, but I'm pretty sure I went through an elevator and down a couple hallways to get to my room.
I was so tired all I wanted to do was sleep. Paul was finally able to come and see me and he told me he was waiting in the family lounge for over 7 hours. Still unable to talk or really open my eyes, I kept trying to tell him my head was hurting. I'm sure I managed to get the words out somehow... and he took the pony-tail out that I had in. My hair was engrossed with iodine, it felt dirty, but I didn't care I just wanted to sleep. My head hurt so bad I couldn't get comfortable, I had to try and sleep from one side or another.
I'm not sure how long Paul stayed there, but I remember thinking I wanted him to go eat something and get some rest. After he left, all I could do was sleep.
....
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Happy Juice
As I was being serenaded with TobyMac songs from my husband, my doctor walked in. The last time I saw him was at his office, he was wearing a button-down shirt, tie, and white doctor coat. This time he had his scrubs on. I couldn't help but notice how wrinkled they were. He was just coming out of a different surgery and my mind started racing on whether or not he changed scrubs and pulled these wrinkled ones out from the bottom of the stack or if he didn't change at all. I decided I needed to stop thinking about that.
He started explaining parts of the surgey, like how'd I'd be practically upside down during the procedure... ya, thank goodness I was out cold for that. After he was finished he said, just a few more minutes!
That's when the happy juice came. At least that's what I like to call it. The nurse gave me the "happy juice" through my IV and I immediately at a "high". I'm pretty sure I told her all about how I thought this was happy juice. Did she laugh at me? No, she'd probably heard it all before.
I was then rolled out of the surgery prep room to the surgery room. It was cold and gray. I was still pretty happy.. so I didn't really care. The nurses then put a mask over my mouth and I remember answering a question. I was taking small breaths, not sure why, but I felt like that's all I could do.
I remember the nurses talking to each other and looking at me, then one of them said "take a big deap breath in" and I was out cold.
...
He started explaining parts of the surgey, like how'd I'd be practically upside down during the procedure... ya, thank goodness I was out cold for that. After he was finished he said, just a few more minutes!
That's when the happy juice came. At least that's what I like to call it. The nurse gave me the "happy juice" through my IV and I immediately at a "high". I'm pretty sure I told her all about how I thought this was happy juice. Did she laugh at me? No, she'd probably heard it all before.
I was then rolled out of the surgery prep room to the surgery room. It was cold and gray. I was still pretty happy.. so I didn't really care. The nurses then put a mask over my mouth and I remember answering a question. I was taking small breaths, not sure why, but I felt like that's all I could do.
I remember the nurses talking to each other and looking at me, then one of them said "take a big deap breath in" and I was out cold.
...
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Don't look at me, I just want to get this over with...
That morning I awoke feeling nervous and anxious. I was having surgery today. I was about to find out if the cancer had spread or if it was contained to one area. Surgery was the only way for us to know for sure.
When we got to the hospital that morning, I felt sick to my stomach. I'm not sure if I was just completely nervous from what was about to happen... or from the bowel prep the night before. Regardless... I felt no need to talk to anyone and I simply wanted to wallow in my own shell.
Paul was fully aware of my "don't look at me, I just want to get this over with" attitude... and quickly took over. He checked me in and we were ushered to the other side of the reception area. I felt like a herd of cows... there were a lot of us "cows" just waiting our turn for surgery that day.
That's when "she" showed up. Couldn't she tell I had the look of "don't look at me, I just want to get this over with..."?? Apparently not. She was an older woman in her 90's. She probably did this voluntarily to help bring comfort to patients. It did not bring me comfort, it made me uncomfortable and more nervous than what I already was. She was wearing a long skirt with large tennis shoes, a sweater and a cross wrapped around her neck. I wondered if she was a nun.
She came over and read the sweater I had put on that morning. It was one of Paul's sweaters that's extremely comfortable... this was my only reason for wearing it that day, nothing more. The words said "Good Doctors are Integrity Doctors". This was a slogan for some "doctor" company... can't remember which now. This woman decided to approach me with saying "Integrity is really so important, isn't it?". Ummm... was I supposed to respond to that? Again.. Paul took over. He carried on the conversation with her. He allowed me to stay in my shell and not respond too much.
When she finally wrapped things up she told Paul to take good care of me and make sure I had support after surgery. Okay, maybe this conversation wasn't so bad after all.
...
They finally called my name. It felt like a million years... although I'm sure it was only 20 minutes. I was ushered into the back surgery prep room. All the "cows" came back here, got on their gowns and socks and waited yet again.
I was just getting into a really good game of Bejeweled on my cell phone when a nurse came in to ask some questions. She first started with the usual: name, age, birth date, allergies, etc. Then she asked "Have you fallen down in the past 6 months?" I kind of chuckled to myself and said, "I don't know, I may have tripped over something, I am kind of a klutz!" She looked at me and said, "This question is really for much older people, this probably doesn't apply to you." Right, I almost forgot how young I was...
After the nurse left, another lady came in. She was here for a cancer study. She looked like a student and she looked about my age. I received a phone call and packet a few weeks prior to surgery asking if I would participate in this cancer study. I was considered a very unusual case because of the lack of family cancer history and my age. I agreed to do the study, although I'll have no idea of the results. They wanted to keep my anonymity so that the scientists working on this study won't be bias. I signed a few forms allowing them to take whatever samples they needed from me. At least I would be of some use during this surgery.
I was then taken by another nurse to another surgery prep room. This is where I received my bed and IV's, one in each arm. I knew I was getting close, and I'm sure I had the look of "don't look at me, I just want to get this over with". Paul sat next to me and started singing me TobyMac songs, this made me laugh.
...
When we got to the hospital that morning, I felt sick to my stomach. I'm not sure if I was just completely nervous from what was about to happen... or from the bowel prep the night before. Regardless... I felt no need to talk to anyone and I simply wanted to wallow in my own shell.
Paul was fully aware of my "don't look at me, I just want to get this over with" attitude... and quickly took over. He checked me in and we were ushered to the other side of the reception area. I felt like a herd of cows... there were a lot of us "cows" just waiting our turn for surgery that day.
That's when "she" showed up. Couldn't she tell I had the look of "don't look at me, I just want to get this over with..."?? Apparently not. She was an older woman in her 90's. She probably did this voluntarily to help bring comfort to patients. It did not bring me comfort, it made me uncomfortable and more nervous than what I already was. She was wearing a long skirt with large tennis shoes, a sweater and a cross wrapped around her neck. I wondered if she was a nun.
She came over and read the sweater I had put on that morning. It was one of Paul's sweaters that's extremely comfortable... this was my only reason for wearing it that day, nothing more. The words said "Good Doctors are Integrity Doctors". This was a slogan for some "doctor" company... can't remember which now. This woman decided to approach me with saying "Integrity is really so important, isn't it?". Ummm... was I supposed to respond to that? Again.. Paul took over. He carried on the conversation with her. He allowed me to stay in my shell and not respond too much.
When she finally wrapped things up she told Paul to take good care of me and make sure I had support after surgery. Okay, maybe this conversation wasn't so bad after all.
...
They finally called my name. It felt like a million years... although I'm sure it was only 20 minutes. I was ushered into the back surgery prep room. All the "cows" came back here, got on their gowns and socks and waited yet again.
I was just getting into a really good game of Bejeweled on my cell phone when a nurse came in to ask some questions. She first started with the usual: name, age, birth date, allergies, etc. Then she asked "Have you fallen down in the past 6 months?" I kind of chuckled to myself and said, "I don't know, I may have tripped over something, I am kind of a klutz!" She looked at me and said, "This question is really for much older people, this probably doesn't apply to you." Right, I almost forgot how young I was...
After the nurse left, another lady came in. She was here for a cancer study. She looked like a student and she looked about my age. I received a phone call and packet a few weeks prior to surgery asking if I would participate in this cancer study. I was considered a very unusual case because of the lack of family cancer history and my age. I agreed to do the study, although I'll have no idea of the results. They wanted to keep my anonymity so that the scientists working on this study won't be bias. I signed a few forms allowing them to take whatever samples they needed from me. At least I would be of some use during this surgery.
I was then taken by another nurse to another surgery prep room. This is where I received my bed and IV's, one in each arm. I knew I was getting close, and I'm sure I had the look of "don't look at me, I just want to get this over with". Paul sat next to me and started singing me TobyMac songs, this made me laugh.
...
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Pre-Surgery Prep
Pre-Surgery Prep
48 hours of a liquid diet. I could do this. I just had to get through 2 grueling days of eating nothing. Celebrities do it all the time, what did I have to lose? Except for a few pounds still packed on from "baby weight". No biggie!
I had to keep my mind busy. If I got bored, I'd find some excuse to eat something. Saturday morning would be easy........... a baby shower. I could focus on chatting with other people, enjoying the company and play the typical baby shower games. Crap. Forgot they would have an AMAZING food spread. Chocolate covered strawberries, cupcakes, pasta, deviled eggs, mixed fruit, etc, etc, etc. Everyone was eating around me, but I held strong. I DID NOT eat anything!
After the shower I went home and ate some jello, yum.
That afternoon is foggy, I have no recollection of what I did the rest of that day. I'm imagining my body was in a complete and total state of shock. I must have been walking around in a daze trying to figure out how I was going to continue this charade over the next 45 hours (yes, by this time it had only been 3 hours).
For dinner I remember having chicken broth, yum.
Drinking lots of water helped through this process, it made me "fill" full, even though we all know very well I was starving!
The next morning we loaded up the kiddos to grandma's house. This would be my first over-night trip without Tyson, who was only 3 months. I was a nervous wreck. At least thinking of him helped me not think of food.
We drove to Seattle, this also preoccupied my time to not think about food. Even though Paul decided to eat a big juicy cheeseburger loaded with french fries along the way. (He did try to hold out as long as he could!)
We landed in Seattle, downtown 5th Street. Our hotel was right in the heart of the shopping district. I was soooo envious of everyone going about their Sunday afternoon shopping, laughing and having a great time.
I, on the other hand, was not about to have a great time. I would be spending the next 8 hours locked up in our hotel room. Two words... bowel prep.
...
48 hours of a liquid diet. I could do this. I just had to get through 2 grueling days of eating nothing. Celebrities do it all the time, what did I have to lose? Except for a few pounds still packed on from "baby weight". No biggie!
I had to keep my mind busy. If I got bored, I'd find some excuse to eat something. Saturday morning would be easy........... a baby shower. I could focus on chatting with other people, enjoying the company and play the typical baby shower games. Crap. Forgot they would have an AMAZING food spread. Chocolate covered strawberries, cupcakes, pasta, deviled eggs, mixed fruit, etc, etc, etc. Everyone was eating around me, but I held strong. I DID NOT eat anything!
After the shower I went home and ate some jello, yum.
That afternoon is foggy, I have no recollection of what I did the rest of that day. I'm imagining my body was in a complete and total state of shock. I must have been walking around in a daze trying to figure out how I was going to continue this charade over the next 45 hours (yes, by this time it had only been 3 hours).
For dinner I remember having chicken broth, yum.
Drinking lots of water helped through this process, it made me "fill" full, even though we all know very well I was starving!
The next morning we loaded up the kiddos to grandma's house. This would be my first over-night trip without Tyson, who was only 3 months. I was a nervous wreck. At least thinking of him helped me not think of food.
We drove to Seattle, this also preoccupied my time to not think about food. Even though Paul decided to eat a big juicy cheeseburger loaded with french fries along the way. (He did try to hold out as long as he could!)
We landed in Seattle, downtown 5th Street. Our hotel was right in the heart of the shopping district. I was soooo envious of everyone going about their Sunday afternoon shopping, laughing and having a great time.
I, on the other hand, was not about to have a great time. I would be spending the next 8 hours locked up in our hotel room. Two words... bowel prep.
...
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Fluke Incident
Does this run in the family? Will my daughter need to worry about this in the future? Do my sisters and mom need to be checked?
Being told I had cancer was a complete shock to me. No one in our family had ever been diagnosed (that we're aware of) and the thought of it showing up was scary. This sort of thing just didn't happen to "our family".
I knew I needed to be tested to see if harmful BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes showed up in my blood work. On the chance this test showed a positive my entire female family would need to be checked (they didn't have to, but for precautions it would have been wise).
I was extremely concerned for my daughters future, I had to know for her sake.
The test came back negative. Thank God! What does this mean? Why was I diagnosed with cancer?
This means it was a fluke incident.
Being told I had cancer was a complete shock to me. No one in our family had ever been diagnosed (that we're aware of) and the thought of it showing up was scary. This sort of thing just didn't happen to "our family".
I knew I needed to be tested to see if harmful BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes showed up in my blood work. On the chance this test showed a positive my entire female family would need to be checked (they didn't have to, but for precautions it would have been wise).
I was extremely concerned for my daughters future, I had to know for her sake.
The test came back negative. Thank God! What does this mean? Why was I diagnosed with cancer?
This means it was a fluke incident.
....
We were sitting at the hospital again, this started to be routine for us. Just as we sat down and got settled into reading a good article from the nearby magazines, my name was called. They always botch it, at least I could still find this amusing.
We zig-zagged through the hallways to a small office. As we sat down at a round circlular table I started staring at my surroundings. Above her desk was a book shelf that had medical books ranging from "Breast Cancer" to "Family Genetics". A young lady started helping me to try and figure out my family history, my family cancer history that is. I wondered how much schooling she had to do this. I wondered if we were the same age. I noticed small child-like drawings around her desk, and wondered if she was a mom or an aunt, I assumed mom.
She pulled out a blank white sheet of paper. "This is how you're going to connect the dots to my genetic family history?" I thought. She started with my parents. She drew a circle for my mom and a box for my dad. She then drew lines to their four children, all female, all circles. She continued this same pattern with my mom's side of the family. There were a lot of circles for a lot of females. My dad's side was much smaller and few women to count for.
She asked the same question over and over. "Does/Did this person have any type of cancer?" No, was my answer for everyone. When we were complete going back to as much family as I can remember, she stopped. The blank white sheet of paper was now filled with boxes and circles and lines drawing from one family member to the next. She had created my family tree. What was eerie about this was that she put an "X" over anyone deceased. I didn't like that.
Her drawing became inconclusive. To my knowledge, no one in my family has had ovarian or breast cancer, at least no one with my direct link. She thought my chances of having cancer genetically was very slim, but to be sure, blood work was necessary.
I had been poked so many times with a needle by now, what difference did it make? We made our way up to the vampire labs AKA blood labs. I knew right where to go, this was nothing new to me. The woman who took my blood, however, must have been. This was the first time that it hurt so bad when she stabbed me with the needle into my vain. I decided she was a vampire. Her hands were cold and she jabbed me with the needle so hard that it almost brought tears to my eyes. I left with a bruise.
Now my blood was going to be sent to the only lab in the entire United States who would run this test. The cost was high. If my insurance didn't want to cover this, we were looking at around $5,000.00. We really couldn't afford this, but the thought of not knowing was worse than the bill.
Due to my age (anyone before the age of 40) is likely to have their insurance cover this test. We were also told that once they received my blood work, they would bill my insurance and if the bill exceeded $275.00, we would get a call to confirm if we still wanted to continue. If the bill was less, then we wouldn't get a phone call, but would get a bill.
We received neither. For me (and with my insurance) it was a free test. I guess my insurance decided it was best I know this information. (Thank you insurance!).
The results of the test came back negative. My family was okay. My daughters chances of having cancer went from a risk of 50% down to 4%. It was a "fluke" incident.
A fluke incident that had to be dealt with.
...
For more information on this test:
Or, please contact me directly and I can provide you with the information of the nice young lady who "drew" my family tree (locally for Tri-City, WA area only).
....
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Cancer AND mastitis???
While waiting for surgery, most cancer patients would be anxious and nervous of the upcoming event. I had little time to think about it. My focus was on Tyson and how strongly I felt about nursing him.
I became very ill with mastitis when Tyson was only 2 weeks old.... and exactly 1 week after finding out I had cancer. I was constantly sick over the next 5 weeks. For those of you who are familiar with this, you know that its an excruciating pain. For those of you who don't, allow me to explain.
Mastitis is a term used to describe breast inflammation, most common in nursing mothers. It can be caused by inflammation of cellular tissue, or formation of an abscess. In other words, it hurts like hell!
I was laying in bed with a fever of up to 103*, when I finally decided I needed to call my doctor. I had no idea something like this even existed. He knew right away what it was and prescribed some antibiotics as well as some home remedies. I started with the home remedies. I sent Paul to the store to buy bag balm and cabbage. I looked like a walking garden! The bag balm was used to heal any open cracks or wounds on the breast and the cabbage has some mystical power that's able to draw out the infection. I used those religiously as well as hot showers and the antibiotics to try and get rid of this. By now, I had a huge welt on the side of my breast that was almost the size of a baseball (I kid you not). And yes, I was dealing with this while going to my doctor appointments for cancer.
I kept trying to nurse. Every day felt like a burning fire in my chest. The pain was so bad that I cringed every time I knew Tyson was hungry, and he wanted to eat every 2 hours (he's now nicknamed The Tank). I would be in tears for hours from hurting so bad. After 4 weeks of this I went back to my doctor.
As soon as he examined the baseball growing out of my breast he immediately sent me to a local general surgeon. Seriously? Surgery?
I was awake for the entire procedure. The surgeon had to "drain" the infection. If you can imagine a needle the size of a pencil being jabbed into this "baseball" on the side of my breast.... ya... it was bad. He made a 2 inch incision on the baseball (my first vampire bite). I thought I was going to pass out, in fact, I almost did. I told him he had to stop otherwise I wasn't going to make it. He continued after about 10 minutes when some color came back into my face. He finished up and explained that he put a "shoe lace" down inside my breast. Okay, so it wasn't a "real" shoe lace, but that's what it looked like and reminded me of. He actually called it a "wick". This had to stay inside my breast for the next 4 days so the infection could continue to drain.
This procedure was a necessary evil. My breast continued to drain, I was on narcotics (okay, pain medicine) for the pain and was STILL trying to nurse. The next day the one breast that I could nurse on started showing the same signs as the one with mastitis. That's when I knew I couldn't go on with nursing any longer. I was so heartbroken and upset about my decision, but knew I just couldn't do it. I didn't give up, I fought and fought for this, but just wasn't able to.
A week after this procedure was done, and the shoe lace coming out, Tyson was 7 weeks and I was back working at my job.
My job was extremely supportive... knowing that I was going to be on medical leave again very soon.
...
I became very ill with mastitis when Tyson was only 2 weeks old.... and exactly 1 week after finding out I had cancer. I was constantly sick over the next 5 weeks. For those of you who are familiar with this, you know that its an excruciating pain. For those of you who don't, allow me to explain.
Mastitis is a term used to describe breast inflammation, most common in nursing mothers. It can be caused by inflammation of cellular tissue, or formation of an abscess. In other words, it hurts like hell!
I was laying in bed with a fever of up to 103*, when I finally decided I needed to call my doctor. I had no idea something like this even existed. He knew right away what it was and prescribed some antibiotics as well as some home remedies. I started with the home remedies. I sent Paul to the store to buy bag balm and cabbage. I looked like a walking garden! The bag balm was used to heal any open cracks or wounds on the breast and the cabbage has some mystical power that's able to draw out the infection. I used those religiously as well as hot showers and the antibiotics to try and get rid of this. By now, I had a huge welt on the side of my breast that was almost the size of a baseball (I kid you not). And yes, I was dealing with this while going to my doctor appointments for cancer.
I kept trying to nurse. Every day felt like a burning fire in my chest. The pain was so bad that I cringed every time I knew Tyson was hungry, and he wanted to eat every 2 hours (he's now nicknamed The Tank). I would be in tears for hours from hurting so bad. After 4 weeks of this I went back to my doctor.
As soon as he examined the baseball growing out of my breast he immediately sent me to a local general surgeon. Seriously? Surgery?
I was awake for the entire procedure. The surgeon had to "drain" the infection. If you can imagine a needle the size of a pencil being jabbed into this "baseball" on the side of my breast.... ya... it was bad. He made a 2 inch incision on the baseball (my first vampire bite). I thought I was going to pass out, in fact, I almost did. I told him he had to stop otherwise I wasn't going to make it. He continued after about 10 minutes when some color came back into my face. He finished up and explained that he put a "shoe lace" down inside my breast. Okay, so it wasn't a "real" shoe lace, but that's what it looked like and reminded me of. He actually called it a "wick". This had to stay inside my breast for the next 4 days so the infection could continue to drain.
This procedure was a necessary evil. My breast continued to drain, I was on narcotics (okay, pain medicine) for the pain and was STILL trying to nurse. The next day the one breast that I could nurse on started showing the same signs as the one with mastitis. That's when I knew I couldn't go on with nursing any longer. I was so heartbroken and upset about my decision, but knew I just couldn't do it. I didn't give up, I fought and fought for this, but just wasn't able to.
A week after this procedure was done, and the shoe lace coming out, Tyson was 7 weeks and I was back working at my job.
My job was extremely supportive... knowing that I was going to be on medical leave again very soon.
...
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Waiting
Going to Seattle is usually due to a much needed get-out-of-town-to-a-big-city trip. So, on this particular day, heading to Seattle, we knew it wouldn't be fun. It was raining, of course, which suited our moods.
We again packed for a day trip with a weeks worth of diapers, still nervous about taking a newborn out of town. We found our doctors office, which was downtown Seattle (this is stressful when you don't know where you're going). His office was on the top floor, Suite 1500. When we finally found his office the words on the door jumped out at me like a freight train hitting me in the gut, "ONCOLOGY GYNECOLOGY SPECIALISTS". And underneath that read my doctors name. We were in the right place.
We showed up 30 minutes early, just to make sure we found his office in time. We found a seat in the back with huge windows that overlooked the Puget Sound.... well at least we had a pretty view while we waited.
And then we waited..... and waited... and waited.... and waited.
After 2 hours I decided I needed to make sure they didn't forget about me. They explained that my doctor had an extremely hard case that he was working on and we would be next.
We again waited... and waited... and waited... and waited.
After 4 hours, that's right, 4 hours, we finally got into a patient room.
And then we waited... and waited... waited... and waited.
Seriously? I was ready to walk out. We had already changed Tyson's diaper 4 times, fed him 2 bottles and we had no signs of leaving anytime soon. I was so tired and spent just from waiting for so long I was ready to get in the car and go back to Spokane for surgery and deal with an anchor-like scar across my abdomen. At this point, I just didn't care.
Just when I was ready to storm out of the room, McDreamy/McSteamy entered. (I hope I have some Greys Anatomy fans following here...). Seriosly though... he looked my age. He was extremely nice and couldn't apologize enough for keeping us waiting for so long. He explained everything very thoroughly and let us decide what the best decision would be... of course his opinion was to get me in for surgery immediately.
I had other plans. I couldn't leave my newborn for an extended amount of time so soon... I decided to wait until he was at least 3 months old. They thought I was crazy for wanting to wait so long, but mommy duties trumped cancer evils.
Before we were able to leave I had my first CA125 blood test, the same blood test I'll have the priveledge of becoming friends with every 4 months for the next 5 years. This test will show different abnormal levels if cancer is present.
After 6 long grueling hours we were free to go, and had a major surgery scheduled for the near future....
...
We again packed for a day trip with a weeks worth of diapers, still nervous about taking a newborn out of town. We found our doctors office, which was downtown Seattle (this is stressful when you don't know where you're going). His office was on the top floor, Suite 1500. When we finally found his office the words on the door jumped out at me like a freight train hitting me in the gut, "ONCOLOGY GYNECOLOGY SPECIALISTS". And underneath that read my doctors name. We were in the right place.
We showed up 30 minutes early, just to make sure we found his office in time. We found a seat in the back with huge windows that overlooked the Puget Sound.... well at least we had a pretty view while we waited.
And then we waited..... and waited... and waited.... and waited.
After 2 hours I decided I needed to make sure they didn't forget about me. They explained that my doctor had an extremely hard case that he was working on and we would be next.
We again waited... and waited... and waited... and waited.
After 4 hours, that's right, 4 hours, we finally got into a patient room.
And then we waited... and waited... waited... and waited.
Seriously? I was ready to walk out. We had already changed Tyson's diaper 4 times, fed him 2 bottles and we had no signs of leaving anytime soon. I was so tired and spent just from waiting for so long I was ready to get in the car and go back to Spokane for surgery and deal with an anchor-like scar across my abdomen. At this point, I just didn't care.
Just when I was ready to storm out of the room, McDreamy/McSteamy entered. (I hope I have some Greys Anatomy fans following here...). Seriosly though... he looked my age. He was extremely nice and couldn't apologize enough for keeping us waiting for so long. He explained everything very thoroughly and let us decide what the best decision would be... of course his opinion was to get me in for surgery immediately.
I had other plans. I couldn't leave my newborn for an extended amount of time so soon... I decided to wait until he was at least 3 months old. They thought I was crazy for wanting to wait so long, but mommy duties trumped cancer evils.
Before we were able to leave I had my first CA125 blood test, the same blood test I'll have the priveledge of becoming friends with every 4 months for the next 5 years. This test will show different abnormal levels if cancer is present.
After 6 long grueling hours we were free to go, and had a major surgery scheduled for the near future....
...
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Humbly Reminded
I wanted to write again yesterday... but had a hard time finding the words. Over the weekend I was looking at other blogs with similar stories to mine and came across a woman's who's blog title had "ovarian cancer survivor". Only the last blog posted was from 2007, her family announcing she had lost her battle to this disease.
I was very quickly humbled and reminded of how lucky I am. I was very fortunate to find and be diagnosed very early and not have to endure much of what most cancer patients and their families have to go through.
Thank you to my team of doctors who advised and responded so quickly and thank you to all our family and friends who have supported us throughout.
I was very quickly humbled and reminded of how lucky I am. I was very fortunate to find and be diagnosed very early and not have to endure much of what most cancer patients and their families have to go through.
Thank you to my team of doctors who advised and responded so quickly and thank you to all our family and friends who have supported us throughout.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Doesn't cancer have an age limit??
We made our first out-of-town trip with a newborn when Tyson was just 3 weeks old. It was just for one day, but we packed enough diapers for a week. We headed out to Spokane for my first oncology gynecology doctor appointment. Tyson slept the entire way there, of course I knew as soon as we got there he would wake up and be hungry, which he did and was. This makes any new mom nervous.
As I walked into the waiting lobby I was a nervous wreck. I B-lined it straight to the receptionist. For some reason I was nervous that people would see me.... not sure why... we were all there for the same reason. I turned in all my paperwork they had previously sent me, like it was homework for the teacher. I made sure it was all complete exactly how they wanted. I went to find a seat in the lobby, as I sat down and started observing the room I realized I was the youngest person there. You could tell who the sick ones were. They had lost there hair and were covering their heads with scarves, or they were weak and feeble in a wheel chair, unable to use their strength to walk. And, they were all much older than I was. I started imagining what other people were thinking of me. "Is she at the right place?" "Doesn't she know this is an oncologist not a pediatrician?" "Oh, I feel so bad for her, what a shame." "So young..."
As we were waiting, Tyson, of course, got squirmy and wanted food. We took him out of his car seat to try and give him formula for the first time, that was a joke. He wanted nothing to do with it. As we took him out an older lady sitting next to us turned to coo at Tyson. She looked like she was in her 60's. She had lost all her hair and had a colorful scarf covering her head. She was kind and looked happy, despite everything I can imagine she's already been through. My nerves took over and I couldn't respond to her like any normal person. I tried to show a fake smile, but I'm sure she saw right through it. I was nervous for the upcoming appointment, but more nervous that Tyson refused to eat formula and needed to nurse him right away or all hell was going to break loose. I knew the minute I started feeding him they would call my name for my appointment. I decided to go ask them how long I would have before being called in.
They decided I needed my own room. Thank you Lord! I really didn't want to nurse Tyson in front of everyone.
The doctor came and found me while I was still nursing Tyson. She looked my age. Young and full of energy. She let me finish with Tyson and then took me to her office. She started explaining what was going on in my body and explained what our next step needed to be. She was the first person that looked me in the eyes and said "You have ovarian cancer." That's when it hit me. I started crying in her office. I also tried to stop crying in her office. I didn't want her to see me so vulnerable.
Our next step was surgery. We needed to find out if the cancer had spread or if it was contained to one area. We also needed to remove any chances of cancer coming back in the future. This meant everything had to come out.
I decided I needed a little talk with cancer. Aren't I too young for this? Too young to have to make these decisions? Too tired with a newborn to make sense of all this?
I realized I was saying "why me? why me? why me?" a lot. It must have been annoying. Even I was annoyed! That's when I knew I could handle this. That's why it was me.
That's when I also decided that I needed to kick cancer in the butt.
...
As I walked into the waiting lobby I was a nervous wreck. I B-lined it straight to the receptionist. For some reason I was nervous that people would see me.... not sure why... we were all there for the same reason. I turned in all my paperwork they had previously sent me, like it was homework for the teacher. I made sure it was all complete exactly how they wanted. I went to find a seat in the lobby, as I sat down and started observing the room I realized I was the youngest person there. You could tell who the sick ones were. They had lost there hair and were covering their heads with scarves, or they were weak and feeble in a wheel chair, unable to use their strength to walk. And, they were all much older than I was. I started imagining what other people were thinking of me. "Is she at the right place?" "Doesn't she know this is an oncologist not a pediatrician?" "Oh, I feel so bad for her, what a shame." "So young..."
As we were waiting, Tyson, of course, got squirmy and wanted food. We took him out of his car seat to try and give him formula for the first time, that was a joke. He wanted nothing to do with it. As we took him out an older lady sitting next to us turned to coo at Tyson. She looked like she was in her 60's. She had lost all her hair and had a colorful scarf covering her head. She was kind and looked happy, despite everything I can imagine she's already been through. My nerves took over and I couldn't respond to her like any normal person. I tried to show a fake smile, but I'm sure she saw right through it. I was nervous for the upcoming appointment, but more nervous that Tyson refused to eat formula and needed to nurse him right away or all hell was going to break loose. I knew the minute I started feeding him they would call my name for my appointment. I decided to go ask them how long I would have before being called in.
They decided I needed my own room. Thank you Lord! I really didn't want to nurse Tyson in front of everyone.
The doctor came and found me while I was still nursing Tyson. She looked my age. Young and full of energy. She let me finish with Tyson and then took me to her office. She started explaining what was going on in my body and explained what our next step needed to be. She was the first person that looked me in the eyes and said "You have ovarian cancer." That's when it hit me. I started crying in her office. I also tried to stop crying in her office. I didn't want her to see me so vulnerable.
Our next step was surgery. We needed to find out if the cancer had spread or if it was contained to one area. We also needed to remove any chances of cancer coming back in the future. This meant everything had to come out.
I decided I needed a little talk with cancer. Aren't I too young for this? Too young to have to make these decisions? Too tired with a newborn to make sense of all this?
I realized I was saying "why me? why me? why me?" a lot. It must have been annoying. Even I was annoyed! That's when I knew I could handle this. That's why it was me.
That's when I also decided that I needed to kick cancer in the butt.
...
Friday, February 18, 2011
My first official test for cancer
I have had a huge amount of support and encouragement for writing this blog. I've also had a few questions I'll try to do my best answering.
Are you still sick? How did you find out? What were your symptoms? Do you think you'll meet Rob Pattinson someday through this blog? Yes, yes I do as a matter of fact.............................................. Now that that's been answered, we can get right down to it.
Ovarian cancer is one of the hardest cancers to diagnose. Its often found too late because the symptoms typically don't show up until the cancer is at a stage 3 or 4.
My story begins about 5 years ago. We decided to try for a 2nd child, nothing major, just "if it happens great... if not... okay" was our attitude. After about 3 years of this I started getting a little nervous (this should have been my 1st sign). I started seeing a doctor for unusually heavy bleeding (sorry guys) and started trying everything under the sun to get this under control (2nd sign). When I did finally get pregnant I miscarried. (3rd sign) The next few months after the miscarriage was a downward spiral for me, I wanted nothing to do with doctors (sorry husband) or hospitals. I started having a pain in my right side (4th sign). I, of course, ignored it.
I became pregnant again and was a nervous wreck the entire pregnancy. At my first doctor appointment I had an ultrasound done. This ultrasound found the culprit for the pain in my right side. Throughout the pregnancy it was monitored. They were unable to do any blood work to test for any cancer while I was pregnant and the true test was to go in and get the dang thing out in order to test it. We opted to have it removed at the same time I gave birth to Tyson.
This became my first official test for cancer. Results= POSITIVE.
.
Are you still sick? How did you find out? What were your symptoms? Do you think you'll meet Rob Pattinson someday through this blog? Yes, yes I do as a matter of fact.............................................. Now that that's been answered, we can get right down to it.
Ovarian cancer is one of the hardest cancers to diagnose. Its often found too late because the symptoms typically don't show up until the cancer is at a stage 3 or 4.
My story begins about 5 years ago. We decided to try for a 2nd child, nothing major, just "if it happens great... if not... okay" was our attitude. After about 3 years of this I started getting a little nervous (this should have been my 1st sign). I started seeing a doctor for unusually heavy bleeding (sorry guys) and started trying everything under the sun to get this under control (2nd sign). When I did finally get pregnant I miscarried. (3rd sign) The next few months after the miscarriage was a downward spiral for me, I wanted nothing to do with doctors (sorry husband) or hospitals. I started having a pain in my right side (4th sign). I, of course, ignored it.
I became pregnant again and was a nervous wreck the entire pregnancy. At my first doctor appointment I had an ultrasound done. This ultrasound found the culprit for the pain in my right side. Throughout the pregnancy it was monitored. They were unable to do any blood work to test for any cancer while I was pregnant and the true test was to go in and get the dang thing out in order to test it. We opted to have it removed at the same time I gave birth to Tyson.
This became my first official test for cancer. Results= POSITIVE.
.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Vampire Bites
I suppose an explanation for my title would be a good start.
I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer at 28, just one month shy of my 29th birthday and exactly 1 week after my son Tyson was born. While pregnant with Tyson my doctor discovered a cyst on my ovary that was the size of a golf ball (ovaries are typically the size of an almond... so you can imagine what this must have looked like). My doctor did a good job of preparing me for "worst-case-scenario" although I ignored half of what he said since "that-won't-happen-to-me"...
So, here I am a week later with my newborn in hand when the news was delivered that this "cyst" which we will now call a "tumor" tested positive for carcinoma. It was around this time I went into the twilight zone. The next few days I'm unsure of how I existed. I was sleep deprived from having a new born, I was recovering from having a c-section, and cried non-stop for the first 48 hours. I was a wreck.
Now it was time for choices and decisions to be made. I knew I would need surgery to find out what exactly we were dealing with. I first made my way up to Spokane to speak to an Oncologist specialist, long story short they wanted to make a huge incision down the middle of my torso.. that and my already c-section scar it would have looked like an anchor! I decided to search elsewhere.
We ended up with a great team of doctors in Seattle. The surgery was done robotically, which meant multiple little incisions instead of one long one. I now have 5 scars across my abdomen, 6 if you include the c-section and 7 if you include the mastitis (different story, different blog!).
I am now 12 weeks post-surgery. Wow are things different. I was examining my battle wounds in the mirror one day when I decided these "scars" actually looked like vampire bites. I know, lame. But I had to laugh at myself when I said it outloud (since I immediately thought of the Twilight saga in my head).
It just sounds so much more glamorous!
I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer at 28, just one month shy of my 29th birthday and exactly 1 week after my son Tyson was born. While pregnant with Tyson my doctor discovered a cyst on my ovary that was the size of a golf ball (ovaries are typically the size of an almond... so you can imagine what this must have looked like). My doctor did a good job of preparing me for "worst-case-scenario" although I ignored half of what he said since "that-won't-happen-to-me"...
So, here I am a week later with my newborn in hand when the news was delivered that this "cyst" which we will now call a "tumor" tested positive for carcinoma. It was around this time I went into the twilight zone. The next few days I'm unsure of how I existed. I was sleep deprived from having a new born, I was recovering from having a c-section, and cried non-stop for the first 48 hours. I was a wreck.
Now it was time for choices and decisions to be made. I knew I would need surgery to find out what exactly we were dealing with. I first made my way up to Spokane to speak to an Oncologist specialist, long story short they wanted to make a huge incision down the middle of my torso.. that and my already c-section scar it would have looked like an anchor! I decided to search elsewhere.
We ended up with a great team of doctors in Seattle. The surgery was done robotically, which meant multiple little incisions instead of one long one. I now have 5 scars across my abdomen, 6 if you include the c-section and 7 if you include the mastitis (different story, different blog!).
I am now 12 weeks post-surgery. Wow are things different. I was examining my battle wounds in the mirror one day when I decided these "scars" actually looked like vampire bites. I know, lame. But I had to laugh at myself when I said it outloud (since I immediately thought of the Twilight saga in my head).
It just sounds so much more glamorous!
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