Can you guys feel the fanciness as I’m typing? When my dad got home yesterday, he took me out and got me the new iPad. So this will basically be my super fancy new appendage. Now I can keep track of EVERYTHING and keep in touch easily as I expect all of the offices I go to to have wifi. Plus, this thing is just sleek. I love it! Now I’m blogging through the wordpress app which I also really like. Like I said, I’m fancy.
I am definitely feeling an improvement – I believe I have entered denial. Not sure what else it could be, but honestly I will take it. Way better than “cancer” repeating constantly in my brain. I haven’t been thinking about it spreading so much and have just been trying to deal with what I know is there. That is bad enough for now. I have heard multiple experiences for the surgery, but the most common seems to be the mastectomy first, they put spacers in to stretch the skin for reconstruction and then a separate surgery (or multiple surgeries) for anything they need to go back and get and reconstruction. So I’ve thought some about what it will be like to wake up after that first big surgery. I remember what it was like after my c-sections, the shock of my belly being so much smaller so fast. And I was awake for those! Plus, they took the special part out and handed it to me, this one they are going to take part of my body. The part that fed my children. That’s going to be tough. But I’m trying to think of it really as the part that is poisoning me now. And that makes me want them gone yesterday. Let’s think about it that way, shall we?
I still don’t want to eat, but I did sleep until 6 so that’s something. Juicing worked well yesterday. I was hoping I was better after our date, but yesterday morning I mixed up some Chobani for the little one and the thought of licking off the spoon made me ill. And I love that stuff. It’s bizarre. The meals I did eat, I felt completely sick afterwards so that’s not fun. Super tummy ache. The juice was good though.
I have an appointment with my GP today. Dad is super sick so we got back-to-back appointments and are going to carpool over. It should be a party. I’ve had a little cyst or whatever on my head for years. Apparently it’s like a fat deposit. Yummy. Normally it doesn’t matter because you can’t tell it’s there with my hair. Since I’m going to be showing off the dome in the near future, I figured it is time to get that taken care of. So now it will have time to heal before anyone even knows it was there. Good thing I outed myself. I’ve also got a dentist appointment in the morning. Did you know you need to have super clean teeth before chemo? Well, you do. So I figured if I go now, I may be able to get one more cleaning in before it starts – we will see. Plus, my teeth just could really use a good cleaning. And it will hopefully be a good distraction. He uses nitrous. I could probably use some. It’s funny in a way that cancer is making me do all the things I really should normally be doing to take care of myself, but now I’m doing them all together.
I actually had been thinking I needed to go for a haircut but I’m just going to let that one slide. Hopefully my hair will grow long enough to donate before I lose it. It is just to my shoulders, but considering they can shave it rather than the normal bob, that is a decent amount of hair. I’ve donated to Locks of Love before, and mom has several times. I feel so odd now knowing that I will qualify to use it. My good friend actually researched something called a penguin cap. It’s made to wear during chemo treatments (plus a while before and after) and is supposed to keep the hair follicles from burning which is why people lose their hair. It isn’t covered by insurance yet (although they are trying) but how cool would it be if those got to be widely used and people wouldn’t have to wear the “I’ve got cancer” sign on their head everywhere they go?
Over the weekend, I told a little girl that I have cancer. She was talking about MS and saying it was a type of cancer and someone was correcting her. This little girl was Ms. Precocious and was so funny. I really didn’t think anything about it. I told her that I have cancer and it was okay to not know what everything is. It was like a gunshot went off. Their smiles were gone and they just stared at me in shock. I wasn’t expecting that. Just a little preview of what it’s going to be like walking around with a bald head. People don’t expect cancer from someone my age, and not to toot my horn but I look younger than 37. I’ve got great genes. My mom still passes for 47, honestly. Well shit people, I didn’t expect to get cancer either. What do you want me to do?
I spoke with the nurse from the breast center yesterday. I called to ask if they knew the hormone receptor yet because treatment is different for the different types. She was so nice. They do not know the specifics yet, but she said that they knew my appointment was Wednesday so there had been a rush placed on my lab work (how did they know that?) Everything should be in by tomorrow for my appointment with the surgeon, and if it comes in earlier she will call me. Plus, she was just NICE. She talked to me for a long time. She said that they were all shocked. I told her that I assumed they could tell but just weren’t saying and she said they really couldn’t. Even when it’s bad news, she said that if they are pretty sure they will tell you. She said that they knew that it was concerning, but it really had no clear indicators. They just weren’t sure. And they figured with my age and nursing and everything else I had going on – well, they were hoping at least that it would be nothing. She did tell me some of the common next steps – a lot of times there is an MRI done to see if it has spread anywhere else in the breasts and they can do scans elsewhere (I told her about the lung concern). And I will most likely have surgery scheduled quickly which is fine by me. She said that they work closely with the MRI team and even said one of the nurses that I have been working with there could come over to be with me if I wanted them to. How nice is that?
31 hours until the appointment with the surgeon. Not that I’m counting.