I’m sitting here, thoroughly exhausted, trying to burn the hour between when I put my daughter to bed and when I get her back up to potty—without falling asleep myself. I will then take a dose of Tylenol PM or, no matter how exhausted I think I am, I will not fall asleep until 1 or 2 AM.
Today I met with the fertility specialist to discuss my “options”. He had called me yesterday after meeting with my oncologist and various other specialists during the conference held each Tuesday…Continue
Went to a stylist today for the first time in YEARS. Whacked about six inches to a foot of hair off and dyed in purple highlights. Straightened it too so it will only look like this until I wash it. That'll be fun to see.Continue
I went for the MRI on Thursday--loud noisy thing. It was relatively uneventful and kind of relaxing, or maybe I was just tired. I was lying face down on a inclined ramp with The Girls suspended within the framework. I was pretty amused that I needed to adorn each nipple with a medically necessary pasty with a little ball on it. For my comfort, I was fully draped in a robe and a blanket, so at least I didn’t feel exposed.
And it was relaxing, that is, until my arms, resting on…Continue
Wow. Hollywood needs to tap into this kind of emotional rollercoaster. Apatow wouldn't know what to do with it, but I think Tarantino could come up with something. He knows how to fuck with people.
Oncologist went through the pathology report and the new pathology results from the various stain tests.
Depending on which scan they’re reading results from, the tumor is either just under or just over 2cm long. 2 centimeters is also the cutoff for Stage 1 or Stage 2. So apparently…Continue
Mammogram in general did not hurt as expected. That is, until a "spot" was required for the mass itself. a smaller plate and a tighter squeeze meant i might notice some bruising in a day or two. Ouch.
Ultrasound concluded that my lymphnodes are clear. Big Yay!
A re-scan of the mass confirmed that it is about twice the size originally thought, which is why the biopsy was troublesome--Doc was pressing on one end, not knowing it was attached, which would move the other end further…Continue
It's more than the cognitive disconnect that allowed me to think cancer wasn't "in the family" when I recall that at least two of my father's mother's sisters had breast and "abdominal" tumors. My memories of them are glazed with concealed apathy. I had long learned to humor these old folks that I barely knew by listening with feigned interest, returning home exhausted from the effort.
The younger sister, Dessa, relished the attention and would lift her shirt to show my twelve year…Continue
I was told I would know by today. But the phone call yesterday saying that I needed to visit my doctor to discuss the biopsy results told me everything I already knew.
All the reassurances that it was benign, that this lump was common, just didn't sound right to me. Of course, this is a classic example of confirmation bias; if it were benign, than I was just nervous and would now be suddenly, completely relieved.
The only women in my family that discussed lumps were…Continue
Let’s see how much of this I can type up before the lidocaine wears off…
I am home from my biopsy of the rambunctious little lump that has upended my new year. I have purchased Tylenol Extra Strength and ZzzQuil—the sleep aid from Nyquil without the cough medicine.
Why the fuss, right? One needle stab, sure there will be “tenderness” and “possible bruising”. “High strain” activities should be avoided, my instruction sheet says. Ha! I laugh at you. I wonder if I have any expired…Continue
In our previous installment, our heroine was reminiscing over the last three years’ accomplishments in her life—three years which seem to completely overshadow the previous twenty-eight. While she carries the knowledge and reality of a hardened mass, an interloper, among otherwise fluid and swishy breast tissue, she presses onward. In all honesty: she is scared shitless.
Now we continue with the ongoing saga: Alone in a Boggy Marsh.
I made a joke recently about how “the lucky number 13” was bound to spawn some kind of superstitious crap this year. Last year it was the Mayans; 2011 was the non-Rapture—twice—remember that?
For 2010, I’m not sure about the doomsday theories, but that year was my slow climb out of hell. August was my first breath of freedom, but planning and final dispatch of the then-husband was a year’s long ordeal. I would have been confused and disoriented without an incessantly needy spouse to…Continue
At the stroke of midnight, if it was unsold at the fireworks warehouse, it went into the sky. This warehouse was three suburban blocks from my friend's home. The flaming kaleidoscope was close enough that the ash would rain down upon us as we stood in the street, sharing the experience with every human being in a two mile radius.…Continue