Praise the Lord, I passed the PET!

Since I last wrote about needing an MRI to determine the cause of my hip pain, my health insurance company required me to have a bone scan first, which was negative. After which, my insurance approved an MRI, also negative. So lastly, and just yesterday, I had a PET scan. 

Unlike a Bone Scan or MRI which look for cancer on a larger scale (tumor), a PET scan can determine problems on a much smaller and cellular level, so I felt good about having one as I am nearing my one year anniversary since completing chemotherapy. 

Today I got the good news - negative for cancer!  Thank you for your continued prayers - I'm quite blessed and very relieved. 

The PET scan did however, reveal that I do have arthritis in my hip - probably brought on by my chemo and the drugs I take daily to keep my cancer from returning.  I will see a specialist for that over the next couple of weeks. 

Frankly, getting a diagnosis of arthritis over cancer is like being told I have a hemorrhoid - a pain in the butt, but not life threatening. I'll take it!

For now, I'm enjoying every long, sunny, lazy summer day with my family, the anticipation of the upcoming release of my debut book, my dear friends, and every beautiful moment of life!

God bless and thank you again for your prayers!

xo

Lisa

May God Bless You with an Angel

Please check out the book trailer for the upcoming release of my debut book May God Bless You with an Angel!

http://youtu.be/hKXCwnubtQQ

Every Ache is a Pain

Today, I received the quarterly reassuring news that my tumor markers were the same as last time, with no elevation. My oncologist seemed pleased, and therefor so was I.

I was almost out the door to pick up my 10 year son from school, preoccupied with being late because my oncologist had been an hour behind schedule, when I was reminded by a persistent pain in my hip that I had forgotten to mention to the doctor. It's a pain that I've had for a few months and it can actually take my breath away if I move wrong every now and then.

Now, I'm not trying to be dramatic, but the truth, for me at least, is that even the smallest ache that doesn't subside in time causes pause for concern - is it cancer? Admittedly, that's what goes through my mind when I have a nagging ache that cannot be tamed by Advil or Tylenol.

I know that chemotherapy and the Tamoxifen I take can cause joint pain, but unfortunately, so can cancer. So when I casually and sort of "Oh by the way" mentioned it to my oncologist, he promptly returned me to the exam room. "I don't think it's cancer, but you'll need an MRI so we can see what's going on." He said.

Knowing full well that breast cancer often travels to the bones, it took me back to all the testing I had to do when I was first diagnosed and it got my over active imagination going again. I'm sure it's what I had suspected, residual side affects from the cancer treatment, or, um, old age, but nevertheless, my mind, oh how it wanders.

Please pray for me while I will wait for the MRI and subsequent results (probably within the next few weeks). In the meantime, I will try to make light of this by recalling and trying to believe the wisely spoken words of Arnold Schwarzenegger "It's not a tumor!"

http://youtu.be/6ucfgdFrlho

It's not me, it's you.

It's that time again, my quarterly blood letting and screening for cancer markers. Because I've had lymph nodes removed from both armpits and I'm at risk for lymphedema, I can't give blood the conventional way - instead I have to have it drawn from my hand. In truth, I'm really supposed to have it drawn from my feet, but that prospect seems even worse, so I'll take my chances with my hand, though it's quite painful to say the least. With a skilled phlebotomist, it can be less painful, but the problem is, I haven't found a skilled one anywhere in the year I've been having to deal with this challenge.

I'm so tired of the pokes and prods and multiple failed attempts to get a 'good' vein, and what's more, I'm tired of listening to the technician actually try to blame me! "Your blood clots really quickly, the needle must be clogged." "Did you not drink enough fluids today?" "You need to hold as still as possible!" That last one is next to impossible - clenching my fist as a rubber band cuts off all remaining feeling in my arm, all the while fighting back tears and a general feeling that I'm about to pass out.

I liken it to going to the dentist and as the hygienist is stabbing your gums and making them bleed, she says "Wow, your gums are really bleeding, are you not flossing?" Hmph!

The predictably painful ritual of having my blood drawn may seem like a trivial complaint compared to the events of the past year, but I find that it's a bit like adding insult to injury....or better put, adding insult AND injury to injury.

Today, I asked the gal if she was good at drawing blood from the hand and she replied "We'll see!" She wasn't.

Really...it's you, not me, phlebotomist!!

I meet with my oncologist next week for the results...I'll keep you poked...er, uh, I mean posted.

xo

Lisa

Opening up College Decision letters are like opening presents on Christmas Morning...

I haven't written on my blog in quite awhile. That's good news because it means I've been feeling good and keeping busy!

Mostly busy being team mom for my oldest son's tennis team - his last year as a De La Salle Spartan. It's been a wonderful four years.

When your prospective college student begins to receive admission decision notifications, it's a lot like watching them open presents on Christmas morning - because sometimes they get everything they hoped for, sometimes they get something unexpected, sometimes they get exactly what they expected, and sometimes they're disappointed. Only difference is that as a parent, you no longer have any say or control over what their outcome is. Of course, YOU think your child deserves to get everything they've hoped for, but not everyone else in the real world does. And for our son, and us too, this has been the experience we have had with the recent completion of college decision letters to arrive.

While my son didn't get everything he hoped for, he got some unexpected, exciting, and wonderful choices. And we're quickly realizing that sometimes your Plan B in life, really is meant to be your Plan A. As I write this we are headed to visit Clemson, Purdue, and Villanova, and though I'm excited for my son getting to choose a college, it's a bittersweet journey for me. In less than 5 months time, our family of five will transform into a family of four, with Alec anywhere from 600 to 2-3 thousand miles away.

We'll be able to get a booth at restaurants, so I guess there's one perk to look forward to. Sadly, there'll be less laundry to do, less food to prepare, less mess in the bathroom, and a generally different dynamic.

I often find myself thinking "one year ago this time, I was sick, going through chemo, had no hair, etc". With each day that passes, my unimaginable journey becomes more and more distant and occasionally, I am able to think about the future in more than increments of three months (or when every blood test is pending results). I thought battling cancer was difficult, and believe me it was, but letting go of your first born is proving to be gut wrenching. I find myself crying often.

However, I'm certain that the maturity and experiences my son is so ready for are waiting for him this fall, somewhere on a college campus far away from home. I take solace in the fact that as unready as I am for this, he has never been more ready.

My mother told me that good parents work themselves out of a job. She was right. As difficult as this is, I'm so grateful I'm here to be a part of this transition my son and my family are about to go through. In many ways I have worked myself out of a job with Alec...but I'm still on the clock with my two other employers (Jillian and Josef)...oh yes, how life does go on.

xo

Lisa

Here I Sit...

...waiting nervously in my oncologist's office for the results of my recent bloodwork to check tumor markers (tumor markers are substances that can be found in the body when cancer is present). I have not been in this office for a few months now and the sights and smells are powerful reminders of an all too recent time in my life that I wish to, but cannot yet, put far behind me. The frequent bloodwork will be a routine occurrence for me because breast cancer can recur at any time, but most recurrences happen in the first three to five years after initial treatment. Breast cancer can come back as a local recurrence (in the treated breast or near the mastectomy scar) or somewhere else in the body. The most common sites of recurrence outside the breast include the lymph nodes, the bones, liver, lungs, or brain....

Speaking of brain, for me and most cancer patients I imagine, cancer has a way of growing, figuratively that is, in the brain every day. I wonder often if every ache, pain, or even tiny twitch is a cancer cell emerging and gaining a foothold again. I worry, if it does come back, will it be in a part of my body that I can spare? For I'm quickly losing nonessential body parts I'm able or willing to do without!

Since completing chemo, breast cancer has recurred for a fourth time in a dear friend of mine, and has all too recently been discovered in another dear friend of mine as well. I'm so sorry for my sisters in this war against cancer, because I'm sadly familiar with the journey they will be encountering as they respectively resume and begin battles of their own with this equal opportunity disease.

Once accompanied by a family member to each and every cancer appointment imaginable, I now sit alone (with my iPhone), as life does and MUST go on for everyone around me. I realize I did not tell anyone about my appointment because I didn't want to think about it until it was happening. With my stomach doing flip flops and with regret now for my lunch choice prior to this appointment, my oncologist finally enters the room.

30 MINUTES LATER

My nervousness is replaced by relief as my doctor has informed me that my tumor markers are in the normal range, and since I have no other symptoms at this time, things are looking good for now. I take a deep breath, thank God and my doctor for the good news...then I somberly schedule my next appointment and bloodwork for three months from now.

Because cancer, its treatments, and the followups compartmentalize your life so much, I live with small, focused and short term goals - having lunch with a cherished friend, cooking and sharing a meal at the end of the day with my family, planning a college visit or three over Easter break, baking a cake and eating a slice in bed while watching TV with my kids, imagining what I will wear and how much I will cry at my son's high school graduation, and looking forward to warmer and longer spring days ahead.

With love,

Lisa

Better, Stronger, Faster

It was one year ago yesterday that I had my double mastectomy - a dreadful experience I am so grateful is behind me. After my last reconstructive surgery in early December, I'm am finally on my way to becoming better, stronger, faster - wait, isn't that the slogan for the Six Million Dollar Man? Well, even so, it applies to me too! I'm walking my dogs everyday rain or shine, loving being with my family and good friends, writing, cooking, gardening, and enjoying every glorious minute of each day...even those occasional days when I've picked up one too many pairs of dirty socks and underwear, had a car break down, burned spaghetti, and cleaned up cat barf from my newly cleaned carpets...yes indeed, it feels great to be alive!

Here's a couple of pictures from a Sunday drive Steve and I took with Josef a few days ago...as you can see, I have about two inches of hair!

xo

Lisa