Stop, Drop, and Fluff

So for those of you living under a rock, I’ve had breast cancer this year.  I have done chemo, double mastectomy and reconstruction. I am cancer free. I am one month post implant surgery. Things are healing up.

Things were looking good. And then it happened. One boob went south for the winter. One boob is visiting Santa at the North Pole and one boob has gone south for the winter. And then there’s me—the person these boobs are attached to—just wondering what they are going to do next.

Let me go ahead and backtrack and get this out while I’m discussing breast reconstruction after mastectomy. I feel like I need to say this for all who have ever gone through this and all who will in the future. I get it that people don’t know what to say—I’m right there with you. I can never eloquently express condolences or support after tragedy or illness. I get it. But reconstruction is not a “boob job.” This is not our “prize” after having breast cancer. Living is our prize. If we choose to have reconstruction, that is a consolation prize to say the least. Rest assured, we aren’t going to be working at Hooters next spring. After my reconstruction surgery, my breasts looked like flattened hamburger buns. I don’t have feeling in my breasts. I don’t have feeling in the back of my left arm or in my chest up to my collarbones or in portions of the top of my back near my arms. I don’t have nipples. And currently I have completely lopsided boobs. This is not a boob job and we are not “lucky.” This is an attempt to reconstruct something that was taken from us. I know people are well-meaning when they say “Well at least you’ll have great boobs” but really I am mentally rolling my eyes and throat punching you when you say that.

I look at my boobs every day in the mirror. I check for healing and any changes. I take pictures so I can see the change over time. The other day my daughter happened to be there when I was doing my daily check. She said “Oh my gosh! That one fell down!” I turned to the side and then to the other side and I said, “Holy crap, it did!” So then I was sure that I had a flat. I was already pulling out the emergency roadside assistance kit, lighting the flare and getting ready to jack this baby up. Then I remembered. Drop and fluff. I had read about drop and fluff. The plastic surgeon had talked to me about this (although drop and fluff is not a medical term and not what he called it) but I guess I didn’t realize exactly how this was going to happen. Drop and fluff is the process during which breast implants settle and when this happens, the upper breast fullness decreases and the lower breast fullness increases. The breasts become softer and more teardrop in appearance. My left breast has done the drop and fluff. My right breast hasn’t dropped and fluffed yet. Hopefully it will undergo that change in the next few weeks. It’s still very early and as much as I want to know exactly how things are going to look, you really can’t be sure until after six months or so. If things are still lopsided, I will have to have a revision which will go in and correct the pocket in which the implant sits.  I really like the more natural appearance of my dropped and fluffed breast. It moves a little more and is less like a snowball sitting on my chest. I am hopeful that the other breast will get its drop and fluff on soon.

After this part gets lined out, then I get to decide on my reconstructed nipples. I can leave things just as they are and be nipple-less. Plenty of women choose to do that and I totally understand why. I can choose to have an actual nipple that protrudes out of my breast and then the nipple and areola filled in by tattoo. All of that is done right in the plastic surgeon's office. The third option is something called 3D nipple tattooing. Everything is completely flat but the tattoo is made to look like an actual 3D nipple. I'm not sure which route I'm going with that yet and there's no time frame on when you have to do it so I'm in no rush to make that decision. I have talked to lots of women and no two women feel the same way. It's just personal preference.

When we were at the Pajama Jam, my friend Scarlet asked a lady what type of breast cancer she had. Scarlet went on to tell the lady that I had triple negative and she told her that I had done a good job of educating my friends and community about breast cancer and my particular type. That meant so much to me to hear her say that. The things that I have written about are to better educate those who are going through breast cancer and those who have someone they love going though breast cancer. Unless you have gone through this, you don't know the process. I certainly didn't before I journeyed though. 

-lightningbug

Let's Get This Baby Down the Stairs...

This has been a good week. I had chemo a week ago and that went really well. No nausea and no headaches this time! I have been fighting allergies and sinuses this week but that is something I’ve always done when all the pretty spring flowers start blooming, so that is no surprise! I did get a little nausea when a big stack of EOB’s came rolling in this week. Any guesses on what a round of chemo runs? About $7k/session. Truthfully that is less than I anticpated. Thank God for insurance.

Guess what y’all? I can hardly feel my lump now! That’s what is supposed to be happening and that’s what is happening! After two treatments and I can hardly feel my lump now! It’s totally awesome! 

Yesterday I met with the plastic surgeon to go over the reconstruction process. That was a lot of information to take in. If everything goes as planned, I will have six more rounds of chemo (two more adriamycin-cytoxan) and four taxol and then I will have six weeks of rest. This allows my blood cells to come back into a good, healthy range. After six weeks, I will have a skin sparing, bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction. Speak English, Amanda, right?!

http://www.breastcancer.org/treatment/surgery/mastectomy/skinsparing

That link will explain a little better what is going on. The surgeon removes the skin of the nipple, areola, and the original biopsy scar. The breast tissue is removed through the small pocket.

This is where I need to give a huge shout out to all of the women who have fought this battle before me—and I don’t mean just the breast cancer battle—I  mean the battle to have reconstruction as part of the breast cancer package. Thank you to the valiant warriors who have fought the battle with insurance and lawmakers to make breast reconstruction after mastectomy available.  Thank you.

http://www.breastflap.com/practice/federal-law.cfm

I continue to be blessed in a million different ways. I cry every single day because of the kindness and generosity of my friends and family and sometimes people I don’t even know. It’s amazing. It’s humbling and heart warming.

I think today put me over the 100 mark on cards. And you know what I do with them? I hang them up in my living room. It’s probably starting to look a little tacky but I don’t care. It reminds me of all the love that is surrounding me.

Just some of my awesome cards!

Today I took my son to school. I pulled back in the driveway and I was thinking about how great everything is going. I was thinking about how wonderful everything is going. I thought ok, I have six more treatments and I am doing great with my treatments! Six more treatments and then my surgery and then my next surgery and by Christmas I will be halfway normal again! Then I started thinking, oh my gosh. What if I get through all of this and have my reconstructions and a year or two goes by and I’m feeling great and confident and then I find out the cancer is back?! I was letting my mind go all over the place and I opened the car door and looked at the tree in the front yard and there was my red bird to remind me to shush my crazy thoughts and breathe in the goodness of faith and peace. If I get through all of this and God forbid, that happens, then I’ll get through that, too. But worrying about that is too much to take on. Joyce Meyer says that worrying is paying interest on a loan you haven’t even taken out yet. True story.

To say that I have been overwhelmed with the love and support I have received would be the understatement of the century.  My dogs were all overdue for vet check-ups. When I got sick, everything else got pushed to the backburner.  Well, we received word that there was a confirmed rabies case in a raccoon near us, so I went into mama bear mode and knew I had to get those animals in to see the vet! I thought they were all due for rabies vaccines so I was freaking out. I made the appointment and I NEVER take all four dogs at once. They are all great animals but just like kids, if you try to take all at one time, you can imagine how challenging that is! Well, I was terrified I was going to get that headache I had after the last chemo on Friday, so I took all four animals on Thursday. Thank God for Scarlet Nicely. She met me down there and basically did everything for me. I was little help that day because my dearly beloved Scotty (aka Mangy) decided to jump over my shoulder while I was trying to hold back 150 lbs of Labrador retrievers and take a tour of the greater Selma area. Grrrr. I had a cold. I was grumpy and I had a dog running through Selma. Suffice it to say, I was pissed. I got the labs in the vet and I went back to chase Scotty all over creation while Scarlet took care of my three dogs inside the office. I could see him and hear him but he just wouldn’t come to me. He was exploring.  Finally, he was about 20 feet from me and I tried to approach him and he ran. I stopped and I knelt down and I honest to goodness said, “Ok God, I cannot chase that dog any longer. I need him to walk over here to me so we can get this finished or I’m going to leave his mangy ass in Selma.”  And guess what happened next? He walked right over to me and I picked him up and carried him in.  Not too many minutes later, all dogs got a clean bill of health and all needed shots. When it was time to check out, I was informed that there was no charge today. Either Dr. Emily Graham has a huge heart or she has some good footage of me running through Selma in my snotty nose, toboggan head chasing Scotty that she’s going to hock on the black market! Highlands Veterinary Clinic. She’s the best.

The very next day…

My son Riley is going to the prom. Well let me backtrack. I have said all along that he would decide the week before prom that he was going and expect me to whip out my needle and thread and make him a tuxedo fit for a king.  I have told him repeatedly that he needed to go down and get measured for his tux so it could be ordered.  Finally I texted my friend Erin who owns The Flower Center in Clifton Forge. “What is the deadline for ordering tuxes for prom?” Her answer was “SOON!”  I sent Riley down that day to be measured. I tried to get him to go in between his governor’s school and high school but turns out when you are a 17 year old boy, nothing comes between you and lunch. And I mean NOTHING.  He didn’t have practice that day though, so he went down after school.  I got another text from Erin that said, “Don’t send money. This is on me. I can’t do much but I can do tuxes!”  I honestly just sit back and shake my head. Then I cry. Lots and lots of shaking my head and crying these days.

Someone handed my dad money at his neighborhood watch meeting this week. He told him to give it to me for my expenses.  He told him he didn’t even have to tell me who it was from.  My dad does a lot of head shaking and crying, too.

Yesterday I was cleaning out the fridge—emptying out old leftovers into the garbage disposal.  I had some leftover strawberry sauce and leftover jambalaya and some dessert from Easter (moldy much?)  I’m dumping and hitting the disposal switch and I pulled the cap off of the drain and it’s not draining and I look over and it’s coming into the other side of the sink. I yelled at Kevin and he said “Oh Lord the bathroom sink is full of jambalya!” OMG GROSS!  Let’s just say the chemo hasn’t had my lunch coming up, but scrubbing pulverized jambalaya out of my beadboard with a toothbrush just about did! Well Kevin took everything apart and cleaned out everything and didn’t see anything major. He put everything back together and said, “You should be good to go now.” So I ran some water and it didn’t drain out. Lovely.  So then he sent me to the store for Draino and that didn’t work either. So this morning we were trying to decide how to proceed. Last night I had decided I would probably need to just call a plumber. Kevin is working nights this week and we are out of our normal rhythm (if we ever had a normal rhythm.)  This morning I got up and Tiffany Sanders with Chapman Plumbing had sent me a message that they would be sending somebody out here to fix my clogged drain. Another gift from them to me. More head shaking and crying.

I could go ON AND ON AND ON because you guys have NO IDEA how much goodness has been sent my way.  Not only does all of this humble me and open my heart and comfort me, but it also causes me to reflect on the person I have been and the person I want to be.  I love, I care, but not enough. I want to be BETTER.  I want to be like Tricia Wolfe Meador and Judy Westerman who have sent me a card faithfully every single week since I found out I had cancer.  I want to be like Bron Hendrickson who has texted me every single night since my diagnosis. I want to be like Deana who has been with me to every single appointment I have had. I want to be more giving. And I’m truly going to work on that.

I was at the ballpark this weekend and I was talking to Coach Nolan’s mom, Sandy. We were talking about back in the day when there were just the two fields down there. She pointed over to the tall set of bleachers by the first field and she told me that when Nolan was nine, he fell up in the top of those bleachers and blood was flying everywhere. He broke his front tooth in that fall. She said, “You know I carried him all the way down those bleachers by myself and him that big and I don’t know how in the world I did that.” I said, “You did it because he was your world and you had to do it.”  Call it adrenaline, call it intuition, call it fight or flight. Psalm 139:14 is one of my favorite verses. “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”  How cool is it that we have that fight built in us?  I think a lot of people going through cancer feel just like Sandy. We wonder how in the world we did that but we are able to do it because that’s the only choice. 

Thank you to everyone who is in my corner. I’m going to get this baby down the stairs.