My little pink extension this year...

Pink in my hair, Kaylee’s hair, bracelets & shoelaces…we are fully pinkified.  I have read statements from people of all walks of life about this pink ribbons on everything mentality that comes in October each year.  Some – even some survivors – have said that we have taken it too far.  Cancer is not “pretty”, they say, or some who were like me just a few years ago think “enough with the pink already!”  Personally I “get” the idea that those who have been untouched don’t understand it.  I don’t know that I quite understand the survivors who hate the pink ribbon, but we all are entitled to an opinion – and for sure, breast cancer is not “pretty”.  However, I am grateful to have a symbol – a color – anything – that I can grab onto to identify with and to SEE the support that the cause is getting.  Every time I see a product with a pink ribbon on it, it warms my heart.  Cheesy, perhaps, but indirectly, that company/product/organization is on my side.  They are indirectly supporting ME.  My daughter.  Her daughter… If it weren’t for all the pink out there, we may not have all the advancements in treatment that we have had over the last 10 or 20 years.  For all the fault we want to find with organizations like Susan G. Komen and others for their administrative costs and money distribution, they have STILL led the way in getting breast cancer research funded, a better understanding of breast cancer to the public and an awareness of the importance of early detection.  There are many other organizations, too.  I have included a list at the bottom of this blog.  It is just scratching the surface, but check them out!  I just wanted to say “THANK YOU” to those of you who “get your pink on” each October for the sake of breast cancer awareness.  I appreciate your support!!

www.komen.org/

www.breastcancer.org/

www.nationalbreastcancer.org

www.thebreastcancersite.com/

www.y-me.org/information/…/lifeline/fall06_03_youngwomen.php

www.rightactionforwomen.org/

www.avoncrusade.com/www.bcrfcure.org/

www.dslrf.org/breastcancer/

www.armyofwomen.org/

Some might wonder WHY – if I’m now cancer free – I would be struggling with depression of any kind.  Shouldn’t I be jumping for joy?  Yes!  And I still do that occasionally, too.  It’s a weird mix of feelings, to be sure.  But in the moments of chemo and radiation and surgery and expansions there is this “power up” and move forward mindset.  There were certainly moments with tears and sadness, frustration, and anger, too, but really, I didn’t deal with the reality of what was lost, what was happening to me at that time.  I couldn’t.  I had to deal with treatment – and staying alive.   I don’t really like the way I look.  Not my face, so much, which is the obvious thing that everyone else sees, but it’s the stuff others don’t see.  And I FEEL old…and tired.  Physically, I’m a mess.  Having had my final surgery, what I am left with is not the fantastic boob job that everyone (including me) expected I would have.  With clothes on, you wouldn’t really notice.  It’s fine.  And there are a handful of outfits that really make them look “impressive”.  But they just aren’t that great… it’s hard to describe what that means without this becoming an incredibly awkward blog.  (And the picture I’m posting here is one of the “impressive” ones. )I’m grateful for them, but disappointed, too.  And I have to deal with the disappointment as much as I have to acknowledge the gratefulness.  I believe that over time, I will be ok with them, but right now, some days are just hard.  Add to that the scars from my recent hernia surgery, my c-section scars and of course, three drain tube dots – and of course, the weight gain –  (now the possibility of needing gallbladder surgery has presented itself – my body just doesn’t want to give me a break).  It’s a challenge for me.  If I could avoid surgery long enough to really get into the habit of working out and strengthening my body I really believe it would make a TON of difference.  But I’m always recovering.  And just when I get out of some recovery, I start working out and making a little progress and I have to have something else and more recovery..  To be completely honest – and this probably sounds arrogant – this is the first time in my life I have really struggled with this issue of body image.  I have always felt pretty good about my physical appearance, even when I was a little “bigger” than I wanted to be.  Dave has been encouraging, but it’s really hard to see past my own view of myself.  It feels ridiculous to say this, but it’s the honest truth.

The other piece is just realizing that life as I knew it before cancer is GONE.  It will never be the same.  And there are both good and bad things about that.  Figuring out what the “new normal” is for me will take some time.  Feeling like there is “something” that God kept me around for – besides the obvious, which would be my kids – but something that would use this experience and the passion that has risen up in me because of it.  Something that would make a difference.  Something that would bring honor and glory to Him, and help others along the way.  I don’t want to just do walks to raise money for research…that’s important, sure, but I want to take action.  And I don’t know what that means just yet.  I don’t even know that I’m ready for whatever that is.  After all, I’m still dealing with this nasty depression stuff.  Still – the loss of a year and a half of my life, my boobs, my hair… it has been tough to digest.  And the reality that I am left with a baseline of discomfort and chemo-brain…mild neuropathy (particularly in my feet), mild (thankfully!) lymphedema, nerve damage, rib displacement, uncomfortable fake boobs, and I really could go on… that reality is hard to swallow, too.  I can’t just jump in to things the way I used to.  I have to remember to put on my lymphedema sleeve before I lift something heavy or even clean the kitchen counters.  I have to be careful with what I do with my right arm so that I don’t irritate the already irritated nerve, or stretch the burned muscle farther than it wants to go.  I’m right handed and my right hand is impaired.  I can no longer lay on my right side, and I have a lot of neck & shoulder pain.  I know, it doesn’t sound like THAT big a deal…but it adds up.  And for sure, it’s all something I will gladly take knowing that my life has been spared, but I need to mourn this stuff.

I decided I needed to get this blog out.  BECAUSE – no one told me there would be this difficult adjustment period once it was all done.  And someone out there going through breast cancer might need to know…that it’s ok.  It’s normal.  It doesn’t mean  you aren’t grateful, and so glad to be living!!  I have met others battling cancer during this time that haven’t made it.  And I am SO aware that my story could have gone differently.  And so I am STILL overwhelmed by the grace of God that I am HERE today.  I am STILL overwhelmed by the knowledge that I could have missed that lump that day and it could have been so much worse.  And the truth is – that I am blessed beyond measure to have had the opportunity to sit down at the feet of Jesus – in the midst of my personal hell – and to have HIM sit down next to me.  In the fire.  Which He has already passed through and overcome.  I was like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego who were thrown into the firey furnace, but not burned.  I have never before had such an intensely REAL and PERSONAL  experience with Jesus, and while I wish I could say I live in that place every single day (I can’t) I CAN say that nothing compares – and it is an HONOR to have had those moments with the Savior of the world.  So bear with me as I push through my loss and grief.  My anger and frustration at what is left of me and what I’ve lost.  Just know that it doesn’t mean – AT ALL – that I have lost perspective.  Because in the worst moments of my life, I got to sit and have “coffee” with Jesus.  And I will ALSO never be the same from that experience.

This is me one year ago! Look at how far I've come!

My intent at the start of this blog wasn’t to gross you out with my continuing health issues.  I just thought the update was appropriate since this started as a breast cancer blog.  I had intended to write about something else, really, but I think I will save that for another entry.  I don’t write often.  I want to write more often, but honestly, I don’t know what to write about much of the time.  My life is terribly “normal” -ish – and I love it!  But I don’t always feel I have anything interesting to report.  Many times I will think of something and then realize that it’s still breast cancer related.  I have finally come to terms with the fact that my life is STILL tainted with the cancer filter.  I STILL think about cancer every day.  Everything about my life I STILL relate to cancer in some way.  And I suppose it will be that way for a while.  I have been told that someday, I won’t think about having cancer so much.  I really, really look forward to that.  But for now, cancer continues to infiltrate my thoughts and attitudes on just about every thing.  Not necessarily in a bad way, although sometimes.  Mostly, though, it’s that heightened sense of beauty and joy and life.  Gratitude.  A sense of being recreated.  Made new.  Given a second chance.  So, I guess I’ll continue to write about cancer “stuff” for a while.  Not treatments and surgeries so much, but new perspectives and how it’s changed me.  What I’m coping with or realizing in this new world as a survivor.  I have heard that adjusting to being a survivor can be challenging, too . . . I didn’t totally understand that, but now I do.  And it’s not BAD, but there are a lot of thoughts and emotions to sort out.  I will try to work my way through it the best way I know how – by sharing it here.  It may, or may not be interesting.  It will help me whether anyone reads it or not.  Just giving you fair warning . . .

My family at the Living Well Cancer Resource Center Bridge Walk

I know what you’re thinking.  “WHOA!  Such a negative post  . . .”  LET ME FINISH!

The moments I find myself most frustrated, I stop and reflect.  This is an ongoing process.  It has to be repeated – often.  The further I get from the first mention of cancer, the easier it is to be MORE frustrated MORE often.  DAILY I have to stop and think back, and I am frequently overwhelmed by gratitude once more.  I have suffered, yes.  BUT, I have also found a closeness with Jesus I never knew existed.  I wish I could still experience that every day.  I get glimpses of it from time to time, and while I wouldn’t want to go back to that place in the middle of all the yuckiness, I am so grateful that I had the honor of being so CLOSE to Him.  I think of the outpouring of support and love I received from so many people.  Dinners, cards, gifts, people cleaning my house . . .from neighbors, friends, family, and the church – even some people I don’t know and in some cases have never met!  Knowing that people around the world were praying for me was both humbling and amazing.  I FELT those prayers like I have never felt anything before.  Somehow, those prayers put a cloud of peace and comfort under me, and I knew it.  I was blessed from every side.  It was a trying time for all of us, but really, truly, Dave and I DID grow closer together through this experience.  I found the guest book to our wedding and someone wrote “May you develop such a oneness that when one of you cries, the other tastes salt.”  It brought tears to my eyes because I believe that happened this year.  I have developed a new passion for life, as well as a deeper sense of compassion for the hurting.  It has brought new life.  New appreciation.  New joy and a renewed desire to soak up the experiences of life and time with friends and loved ones.  An appreciation of the exhaustion that comes with living life instead of the exhaustion that comes from poison stealing energy and life from you.

There are days when I just want to feel whole and complete, without all the nagging discomforts on my body.  But they really are reminders – EVERY DAY – for me to look up to Heaven and say ‘THANK YOU for healing me!’  ‘Thank You for giving me more time with my kids, my husband, my family and friends.’  I have learned that I am okay with who I am – if I would have had my life cut short, I was okay with ME, but I was NOT okay with the idea of leaving my kids behind.  Even now I am overwhelmed with gratitude . . . and despite my discomfort and pain, my life is richer because I had cancer.  Only God can do that . . .

Back on January 24, I met with my plastic surgeon, Dr. Madry, to get the “approval” for scheduling surgery and being done with expansion injections.  We were at the right # of cc’s for the size implants I had decided on – including the over-expansion.  He came in and noted that the right side was smaller than the left because of radiation.  I know I’ve covered this before, so bear with me.  I’m going to re-hash it a little for the sake of those who haven’t been reading all my blogs . . . radiation burned the muscle on that side of my chest and because of that, now has a tremendous amount of scar tissue.  Scar tissue doesn’t want to stretch.  At all.  The stretching scar tissue has to break apart, which is painful, and then it rebuilds itself.  Since radiation, the expansion process had been somewhat painful, but totally manageable.  No pain at all on the left side, which did not receive radiation.  So Dr. Madry says “I want to put another 50 cc’s in just the right side and see if we can get it up to the same outward size of the left side”.  Fine.  The nurse practitioner, Robin, comes in and gives me the injection.  He wants to see me again in 2 weeks.  There is an eight week wait between final expansion and final surgery.

February 7 arrives and I head in to see Dr. Madry once again, and hope to get approval and a surgery date.  I never considered the idea that he might want to continue to inject the right side because it STILL didn’t look the same as the left.  But he did.  He wanted to inject another 50 cc’s in just the right side.  This happened again the next week, when he said “I won’t do another one.  If this doesn’t work, we’ll have to take some out of the left side and go with a smaller implant.”  So I agreed – and with the ridiculous size of the expander under my already stressed out muscle, each week hurt more than the last.  The week before it had been bad enough for me to call the office and tell them I was pretty sure it was pressing on a nerve and it the sharpness of the pain AND the persistence of the pain were really tough to take.  Robin said to me “I’m honestly surprised we haven’t had this call from you weeks ago!!  You’ve been such a trooper and I’m amazed at how well you’ve tolerated this so far!  I’ll call in some pain medication to your pharmacy. . .”  I didn’t take the pain meds that week.  Just advil and tylenol.  But the next week, it was worse yet and I couldn’t handle it.  It was the only thing I could think about.  I was cranky and preoccupied and unable to think.  I hate pain medicine.  It always makes me nauseous and sleepy.  But I caved, and hunkered down on the couch, turned on the t.v., ate lunch and took some hydrocodone.  Sweet relief.  Sure enough, the sleepies came, and then nausea.  But my arm and shoulder and back were not throbbing and aching and glowing with nerve and muscle pain. I asked Dr. Madry WHERE the rest of the expander was expanding if it wasn’t on the OUTSIDE of my body like it’s supposed to be and as I suspected he told me it was pressing down on my rib cage.  I have been feeling a little “crowded” when I sit just right, or bend a certain way, and apparently it’s because I AM a little crowded.  At this point, I have 150 cc’s MORE saline in the right side than in the left, and the right side is STILL smaller.  But just by a TEENSY bit.  I go in the next week hopeful that he will say it’s close enough.  He says “WOW!  We’re so close!!  I know I said I wouldn’t inject you again, but this last one got us so close, I think we should try one more . . . you’ve come this far and you are so close!”  FINE.  Robin comes in, starts injecting and we’re chatting.  About halfway through the pain kicked in.  I don’t typically have pain DURING the injection.  It comes on gradually AFTER.  But this time, it started hurting in the office.  Robin saw my face and said “are you ok?”.  I got tears in my eyes – TEARS – and said “this one REALLY hurts.  It hurts NOW.  It’s going to be a rough couple of days.”  She offered me more pain meds and off I went.  About 15 minutes into my 45 minute drive home, I’m full on sobbing it hurts so badly.  My skin was practically GLOWING red and you could just about see the heat waves coming off the skin.  For sure, I could feel heat, and the most searing pain I have ever felt screaming down my arm into the palm of my hand, into my shoulder and down my back, under my armpit, both front and back and down the side of my ribs . . . one spot just outside the corner of my armpit was beating like a drum with a piercing, steady nerve pain.  I cried the rest of the way home.  It was all I could do to get some food into my body so that I could take the pain pills and curl up on the couch.  I couldn’t even turn on the T.V. this time.  I didn’t want noise.  I didn’t want to look at anything – not the computer, not a magazine, not a book.  I didn’t want to talk or walk or think – the ONLY thing that mattered was getting rid of the pain.  It was, quite honestly, the WORST pain I have ever experienced in my life.  Worse than chemo?  Different.  Chemo was gross – I thought I would die after my first treatment, but it wasn’t PAIN . . .

Three or four days went on like this.  Every waking moment I was rubbing or pressing on different muscles trying to calm them down.  Dave was always rubbing my shoulder and back and arm . . . but if he so much as came close to that spot just outside my armpit I would nearly knock him out.  Finally started to subside a touch after several days, so that it was manageable with advil/tylenol.  I went to see my pilates instructor, Erin, and she helped with some massage and stretching.  I went to see my chiropractor, Dr. Todd Bowers, and he was able to help me with some stretches and some adjustments that made ALL THE DIFFERENCE.  So grateful.  FINALLY I was able to begin to function in normal life activities.  I still feel it from time to time, but it’s intermittent and mild pain at this point.  I have some lymph-edema and very tender nerves in my right hand, which makes it hard to do certain things.  Anything requiring a tight grip is out of the question, but I am hopeful that this will let up once the expanders come out, and the softer, smaller implants go in – and can be repositioned.

When I went to see Dr. Madry again.  I was ready to tell him to shove it if he suggested another injection.  At this point, I would rather take these things out altogether and go boobless than to endure that again.  But he didn’t.  He said the muscle was just determined to contract down on the expander and hold it against my ribs.  The solution?  He’ll use 2 different size implants.  A larger one on the right, which will appear smaller because the muscle will hold it down more tightly, and then a smaller one on the other side.  Will it look okay?  Remains to be seen . . . he said I would just have to trust him, which I do, and that if the size difference is TOO much, insurance WILL pay for him to go back in to correct it.

**Interjecting a different thought here before everybody starts reminding me that natural boobs are typically not the same size:  I have absolutely NONE of my breast tissue left.  Just skin & muscle.  That means that it’s ALL implant, once the implants go in.  The reconstruction process is TOTALLY DIFFERENT than the enhancement process according to my doctor.  It’s all about the “pocket” they create in the muscle.  If the skin/muscle on the right side doesn’t expand fully to accommodate the size implant we have picked, it will continue to press into my ribs too much.  He needs the extra muscle and skin to comfortably fit the implant.  The right side here will always have a little more pressure on the ribs, but if the pocket is large enough, it won’t press my ribs inward.  I’m okay with a little size difference, but that is the reasoning behind my doctor wanting to make them the same size.  This isn’t the ideal situation, but he comes highly recommended, and I know he does a LOT of reconstruction.  At this point, I just want to be done.

Surgery is scheduled for April 25.  So now we just wait!!

So, with that in mind, can I tell you how much I LOVE Pilates and how GREAT it’s been for my recovery?

In 2009 I started having some trouble with my knee.  I started looking around at Pilates studios because I had heard great things about the effectiveness of bringing “balance” to the body and I thought that it could help me with my knee.    After trying a few sessions, I ended up getting a personal session with the owner of the studio, Erin.

She challenged me.  Stretched me.  I was hooked.

I ended up having knee surgery.  She rehabbed me after surgery and I now have total mobility in my knee with no pain 95% of the time.  She is so much more to me than an instructor.  She walks with me through each new challenge and always keeps it fresh and fun every time I go in.  She got a pink stripe in her hair with me when I found out I had cancer and walked with me through my cancer journey – working with me whenever I felt capable.  She kept me in the game – kept me working, helped me feel physically stronger than I was.  (And has since found some NEW instructors that I enjoy as well!)  She has worked with me through the pain of my double mastectomy and the restriction of radiated muscles that just want to tighten up.  She worked with me bald headed, breast-less and now giggles at me with my super huge expander boobs!  I always leave feeling strong and inspired!  She has become a trusted friend and is one of my greatest cheerleaders!

Her studio (Inner Focus Pilates) is a place of relationships and fun – a positive atmosphere where I feel capable of conquering the world!  Or at least MY world . . . she has been an inspiration, a motivation,  and an encouragement to me through this last year, and I KNOW it would have been so much more difficult without Erin keeping my body “in the game”.  Just this week I went in with a lot of pain in my arm from my recent expansion (yes, we’re STILL doing that).  I wasn’t sure how much I would be able to do with my arm/shoulder feeling the way it did.  As always, she knew just what I needed, and while it wasn’t all pleasant, I walked out of there feeling so much better than I did going in.    She always takes the time to really hear what I’m struggling with and knows just how to ‘attack it’ – even with restricted movement.  Our goal right now is to prepare my body to endure the surgery I have coming up to swap out these awful expanders with some nice, soft implants.  I’m grateful that she is willing to take the time to see what my body needs and work around that.  She is amazing at seeing those little imbalances we aren’t even aware we have.  I love that she is always looking for new ways to make working out interesting and challenging – she recently started Xtend Barre classes in her studio.  Xtend Barre is a fusion of ballet and Pilates that is the most current trend in Pilates.  It’s super challenging, tons of fun and gets amazing results AND it’s set to upbeat, current music.  It’s a little bit of a stretch for me because I am limited, but I LOVE IT, and she always knows how to tell me to modify so that it works for me.   She recently moved her studio to Glen Ellyn from Wheaton.  I was sad about this because it’s a little further from me and I didn’t know how realistic it would be for me to continue to go.  But the truth is, I LOVE going!  And the new studio is awesome.  So I make the drive.  And I’m always glad I did.

RECONSTRUCTION.  We’re back in full swing with expansions.  Pre-radiation the expansions were EASY.  Post radiation they are a little harder.  The radiated muscle on the right side of my chest/under my arm does NOT want to stretch.  Not even a little bit.  So each expansion hurts a little more than the last – only on that side.  At first I wasn’t sure what was wrong.  There were sharp pains that went into my back (right under my shoulder blade) that felt like I had a rib “out” of place.  Pains up in the top of my shoulder and shooting down my arm into my hand.  And pains under my armpit.  The pains went away after a couple days, and I was able to connect the dots and realize that it was all related to the expansion.  I am determined to get some elasticity back in those muscles.  I spend a lot of time rubbing my armpit, and I get Dave to dig into my shoulder blade.  It does seem to help to work the muscle.   Thankfully, only a few more to go.

The question on everybody’s mind, of course, is “how big are you going to go?”  Haha.  Yes, a sensitive subject, and yet you might be surprised at how many people have an opinion on this.  Everyone except the people I WANT to have an opinion about this . . . my doctor just kept saying “don’t get hung up on cup size.  When you’re happy with your size, let us know and we’ll write that down and then expand you 2 or 3 more times so we have some extra skin/muscle to work with”.  Having been on the smallish side before all of this, I don’t know WHAT I’m “happy with”.  I feel HUGE, but I know I’m not quite as big as I feel.  These things are so inflexible and ROUND.  Good heavens – I have lumps under my arms and I can’t lay on my stomach at all!!  So how do I get to where I have some size, but am not completely ridiculous?  How do I know?  These do not look natural.  Because they are so round, they seem bigger than they are because it’s like I’m wearing the most obnoxious push up bra I could find.  I’d hate to keep going only to end up a DDD or something.  Dave wasn’t helping at first either.  Trying so hard to be “sensitive” and telling me “I want YOU to be happy with them” was not doing me any favors.  I don’t really CARE that much as long as I don’t look like Dolly Parton . . . this is YOUR chance to pick the “perfect pair” for your wife (within reason!)  He’s finally opened up and had that conversation with me, AND I finally got the nurse practitioner who does my expansions to help me put a number on it.  I feel confident in saying that this one (I go in today) or the next one will be my “last one for size” then I have 2 or 3 more to over-expand.  But it’s nearing the end.  She did tell me to expect (with the over expansion) to feel completely obnoxious and porn star huge before I get that final surgery.  These unyielding, hard, round things on my chest will be quite large having 2 to 3 extra expansions and I will be feeling like they enter the room before I do . . . I guess I’ll get to know what Ana Nicole Smith feels like.  Maybe.  Not quite that big . . . maybe.  Mercy.  Kaylee has ‘bumped her head’ on them more than once and just says “that’s how I know you’re MY mommy.”  GREAT.  I do look forward to swapping these things out for a softer version!!!  Hopefully that happen in Jan/Feb.  It will make a nice birthday gift for Dave.

My friend Karen went with me to a dr. apt. in Oct. & took this.

Decorating the tree!

This year of cancer has also introduced me to a “new community” of people to connect with.  People that I have met online or in real life who have struggled with cancer – or other illness or tragedy.  People that my heart now connects with in a new way.  People that share a certain understanding of what it is to be deeply broken and clinging to the hand of our Savior with every fiber of our being.  People that God brought in to my life and we encouraged and supported each other.  I have had my heart connect with people so deeply and so personally – without even meeting them.  And the stakes are higher.  We love each other through frustration and rejoice together in a “good” doctor report . . . but we invest in each other’s lives knowing that the question mark at the end of our lives is a little more prominent than we’d like it to be.  And we give our hearts anyway – risking the worst and praying our guts out for the best.

Tonight I discovered that a friend I met this year has “lost” her battle with cancer.  I met Jacque and her husband Stefan THROUGH facebook – he found my story and was good at giving advice and encouragement as one who had been there with his wife.  She was in remission but then they found another tumor.  They were passing through Illinois when I was having my mastectomy and messaged me asking if I was up for visitors – it was 9:30 or 10pm.  They were in their RV on their way home from vacation before she was to start chemo again.  They stopped in – were “scolded” by nurses that it was after visiting hours and needed to wrap it up – but they stayed long enough to encourage me and pray over me for healing.  They have 2 little boys – they are 2 & 5.  I know that she was in a lot of pain.  Chemo wasn’t working so they tried radiation.  After radiation they did a scan which showed the cancer was spreading extremely quickly and they said there was nothing else they could do but pain control/hospice.  They prayed until the end for miraculous healing.  How does God choose?  How does He pick our path?  It doesn’t escape me that this could have been my story if He had so planned.  I find myself feeling so grateful for healing here – that I get to stay with my husband and my kids.  But why don’t these wonderful, God-fearing people have that same joy?  And I don’t understand how after all they have done to encourage me I am still here and she is not.  It is not my place to choose, and again, I am so grateful.  And they have “their own” path to walk – God DOES have a plan for their lives from here, but I’ll bet it doesn’t feel like it.  And her husband is STANDING in the love of God in his pain.  It is the DEFINITION of UNFAIR.  If ever I didn’t understand something, this is it.  My heart aches.  My soul is torn.  Fully aware of the privilege it is for me to be healed here – given a second chance and yet a piece of me has been ripped out as I think of this family that has lost a wife/mom today.  I don’t have words for them.  I have nothing that will bring any comfort or peace.  In fact, I find myself struggling with “survivor guilt”.  Why do I get to stay and she doesn’t?  I want to wrap those little boys up in my arms and make the hurt go away.  But I can’t.  I’m not their mom.  No one else is.  I am thankful that she is healed.  I am thankful that her pain is gone.  And I am wrecked with sorrow for this family.  I imagined this with my own when I first found out that I had cancer – the thought of leaving my kids & Dave were more than my brain could handle.  It caused me to collapse in wrecking sobs on more than one occasion.  And to watch it happen to another family brings heartache and pain.  And gratitude . . . and pain . . .

I have posted her picture here with permission:

Just as Dr. Boyer said, my armpit has continued to get worse each day since last Friday.  I would say that today (1 week later) is the first day that I woke up and didn’t feel WORSE than the day before.  I hope that means that it will level off and then start to heal.  You can feel heat coming off the skin.  The skin under my arm is so red that it is practically purple.  Over the weekend it started to peel, just a little, right in the center of my armpit.  I thought “no big deal”.  I can deal with that.  But it continued to peel – a little more each day.  And there was heat.  And itching.  And I could no longer take the rubbing . . . the last time I worked out the salt from the sweat just BURNED and it was like rubbing sand on it.  (Needless to say I haven’t worked out this week . . .) Then cracking.  And seeping.  And PAIN.  My mom says it reminds her of raw meat.  It wakes me up at night.  It smells of decaying skin.  Seriously.  It’s foul.  Thankfully it’s not a STRONG smell, but when I look into my armpit, I can smell it.  I do everything I can to make sure my arm never actually touches my side.  I walk around with my arm up or hand on my hip, or my arm draped over my head.  Anything  to keep the skin from touching.  When it touches, it sticks.  Then I have to move it and I can feel skin pulling.  Movement of just about any kind hurts because the skin is so tight and dry that it pulls and twists.  A small range of motion is tolerable, but anything too big is really painful.  Changing my shirt hurts a lot.  So does putting on a coat.  Occasionally I will feeling sharp pains/stinging even though nothing is rubbing.  My arm is tired from constantly having it up high, but it hurts less than my armpit, so I endure.  I keep reminding myself that this is the last of the really yucky things I have to do.  Get through this and we’re home free.  Yes, I’ll have some expansions (that don’t hurt!) and I’ll even have another surgery to remove the expanders and put in the implants.  It’s RESTORING.  Recreating.  Building up, not tearing down.  It will be uncomfortable, but it’s still moving FORWARD.  It helps me to think of it in these terms – it helps me stay positive and not get sucked in by the frustration.  I can’t do much of anything because it’s my right side, and of course, I am right handed.  I can do a little bit for short periods of time, but that’s about all I can take.  I still have fatigue, and the pain is at it’s peak.  I smear on Aquaphor (and it rubs off skin = GROSS!) and spray it with an aloe with lydocaine spray I have for sunburn and I use an astringent soak they gave me to use on it as well.  It’s drying, but soothing.  And then I smear on some more Aquaphor.  It wakes me up at night sometimes because it gets so dry and then if I move it feels like it is going to crack.  I talked to the nurse yesterday just to make sure everything was still ok and she said it sounds like I am doing everything I should be.  She did have the doctor prescribe a pain med (tylenol w/codeine) that I could take.  I don’t like to take it during the day because it makes me sleepy, but I am hoping it will help me get a good night of sleep tonight.  They keep telling me that in about 2 weeks it will start to heal very quickly.  That’s 2 weeks from last Friday actually.  Which means I only have 1 more week before the “rapid” healing begins.    I am looking forward to that!!  SO – that’s where I am.  I feel like I should be ready to be normal again.  All treatments are done – let’s go!  But here I sit.  Still.  Not cooking much.  Not cleaning much.  Not doing much of anything at all.  Watching a lot of t.v. and spending time on my computer.  I am trying to be patient!!  I want to be working out and volunteering in the school and decorating for Halloween and actually cooking dinner for my family.  And then I move around and think “OUCH!  Ok, so I am NOT back to normal yet.”  And I probably have a lot farther to go than I am willing to admit.  I am still tired.  I still have a touch of neuropathy (numbness/tingling in fingers/feet) from time to time.  My digestive system is far from normal.  My brain still forgetful and slower than I would like.  Patience is going to be hard from here, but I know that I want my body to heal and I want to do it right so that I really feel my energy returning as life finds me again.  God has been good to me, and I believe He will continue to be good to me.  I’m ready to be on the other side of this thing . . . come on body!!  HEAL!

Here is another picture of my new hair.  FOLLOWED BY a picture of my armpit.  I know. . . I’m disgusting to take a picture of it . . .

The picture doesn’t do the color justice, but you get the idea . . .

The song that met me on my drive home was God With Us by MercyMe:  Here are the lyrics.

Who are we that You would be mindful of us?  What do You see that’s worth looking our way?  We are free in ways that we never should be.  Sweet release from the grip of these chains.  Like hinges straining from the weight my heart no longer can keep from singing!

All that is within me cries for You alone be glorified Emmanuel – God with us
My heart sings a brand new song.  The debt is paid these chains are gone Emmanuel – God with us.

Lord You know our hearts don’t deserve Your glory.  Still You show a love we cannot afford.  Like hinges straining from the weight my heart no longer can keep from singing . . .

I just had my hair colored/cut.    My stylist talked me into platinum with some pink for breast cancer awareness month.  Check it out!