The Before Picture

It's been a while since we had a family picture taken. With the news of my diagnosis, we decided it was time. I wanted to get with my friend Jeremi who is a photographer, but time didn't allow for that. So off we went to JC Penny. It was a bit odd to be amongst all the families taking their Christmas pictures and there I was in my pink. We never know what those around us are going through.

I hope to have pictures taken during my treatments, with my bald head, if it isn't shaped too funny. Then we will have some survivor pictures taken for the "after".

In the meantime, it's amazing to see how much the kids have grown. I rather like my family. We have a lot of love for each other and a lot more to be grateful for.

My Surgeon

Here he is. My surgeon Dr. Weiss. We are standing next to each other and yes, he is that tall. He is such a wise, yet humble man.
One of my favorite things about him, is this little bow that he does as he leaves the room at the end of an appointment. He loves his work caring for patients, and it shows.

He has a very to-the-point way of explaining what surgery will involve. As he told us that I would loose my breast, go through chemo and possibly radiation, I felt as though he were giving me a list of things to buy at the store. He knew how to soften the blow and reassure me before I even knew I needed it. Somehow hearing that I had an aggressive form of breast cancer didn't seem that bad coming from him. He is one amazing man.

From Christmas to Chemo to Christ

My healing from surgery has been going well. It is still tender and I have not yet gain full movement of my arm, but with each day it gets better. Christmas brought a welcome distraction and it was nice to try to set the cancer aside for a time. As family began to leave Christmas night and the children happily went off to sleep, a peace filled our home. The quiet allowed me to think.

My thoughts went to cancer, and from cancer to chemo. Chemo is knocking at the door. It is the next big step. I am afraid of chemo. The idea of putting a poison into my body to attack everything, good and bad, is overwhelming. The cancer center is a heavy place. Each chemo patient is there for this same poison that I will be there for. We will subject ourselves to the dose and then walk out, waiting to see which part of our body will be weak and hurt in the days ahead. All with the same hope that the poison will have a more profound affect on the cancer. A hope that the cancer will be weakened, retreat and surrender, or die if possible, never to return.

For now, I could very well be cancer free. All tests and observations concur. I could go on my merry way, healthy and strong. But tests are not 100% and observations are subject to misinterpretation. There could be the tiniest cancer floating somewhere in my body, looking for a new place to attack. And so, for the smallest percentage that the tiniest cancer could possibly be in my body, I will undergo 16 weeks of chemo, 2 or so weeks of radiation, 52 weeks of additional IV, and 5 years of pills. All for something so small we can't see it, or confirm it, but it could take my life.

And so, my thoughts turned from Christmas to chemo, and fear once again settled in my heart. I held on to Jared that night, my tears wetting the fabric of his green shirt, admitting my fears, feeling his love, and knowing we just had to go on.

Today in Sacrament meeting, a young 13 year old spoke on Faith in Jesus Christ. She told and read from the Bible, the story of Jesus walking on the water to meet his disciples and how Peter desired to walk to Him, amidst the storm. Peter did walk on water, he had the faith. But he took his eyes off the Savior and looked to the storm, fear settled into his heart and he began to sink.

29 And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus.
30 But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.
31 And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt? (John 14:30-31)

I realized that as I had turned my thoughts from Christmas to chemo, I had turned my thoughts from CHRIST to chemo. That simple thought had allowed fear to settle in and make it's home and I had begun to sink.

The remaining Sacrament meeting talks today were powerful expressions of the characteristics of Christ. It filled me once again with the faith I have always had but set aside for a moment.

Chemo is still there, it is still knocking, but I have chosen to let Christ in and I am once again filled with hope. From Christmas to chemo...my eyes once again are on Christ.

The Bandages Went Out With The Drains...

This post is a bit raw but it is real...
When the bandages go, it's all there to see. I had my first look at my breast in the hospital. Dr. Weiss told me I didn't have to look, and that many women don't. But I needed to see. And it was ok. I was quite settled with what I saw. He did what checking he needed to, and then placed more bandages on. I was still able to look down into the bandages from time to time, and still was quite settled with not having a breast.

Yesterday, Dr. Weiss took the bandages off, and did not put them back on. The stitches and steri-strips are still there, but the view is pretty clear.

I took a good look in the mirror in my bathroom here at home. It's different looking straight on. My breast is gone. It's no longer part of me in this life. And now it's up to me to interpret what that means. There isn't just one way to see it.

I've been told that a woman just shouldn't have to loose a breast. I agree it is part of who she is, part of what defines her as a woman. It has a role and purpose. But the woman is more than a breast. I have not changed who I am or become less than I am. I am a woman, as strong and gentle as I have ever been...and yet more refined because I have lost that part of what defines me. For I must define me now, even if it is only to restate that I am what I have always been.

A woman's breast does have purpose, four actually, that help her to fulfill her role and define who she is. The first, if the woman is in child bearing years, is to nourish. I have held four babies to my breast. I have heard their sweet suckling sounds and felt their soft little hands pat my skin as they gently fall off to sleep, a little trickle of milk drips from their smiling lips as they begin to dream. This purpose my breasts have fulfilled and I am left with sweet memories. The second purpose is the intimacy between husband and wife. I have felt this touch too personal to share, too defining not to mention. The third purpose, is for me, or the woman herself. All that I love, all the emotions are symbolically felt within my breast. When I hug, it is at my breast. When I am patriotic, my hand is at my breast. When I am scared, the feeling is there. And even when I breath life...it is at my breast that I see the movement. And last and fourth purpose is for all who see me, or all who see woman. Women have two breast. Society expects that, to be otherwise would be wrong, uncomfortable, embarrassing.

But now, I have had a mastectomy. Only a part of me fits the four purposes. The other half is gone. Taken away by cancer. What is left is stitched back together, deep purple and black, scarred and sore. What beauty and purpose are left to be found? I look in the mirror and I am hurt by what I see. Tears fall from my eyes, touching the skin that was once soft and pink and beautiful. Is there anything left to be loved? Anything left to behold?

Loss is part of life. Sometimes it is taken away, sometimes we let it go. With every loss there is a void, with every void comes something to replace it. It is our choice what to replace it with. It is my choice what to replace my breast with. Physically, the only purpose that requires a replacement is the fourth and last purpose...all who see me. As long as there is a form there to make a breast, society is appeased and all must be well. But all is not well unless I choose to fill the void emotionally, spiritually.

I look in the mirror and see a body, scarred by life. Wounded in the battle to spare my life. This is my battle scar. And to me, it has it's beauty. It has a new purpose. My breast as I have it now is a symbol of the strength and courage that are part of my daily life. It is a symbol of my Faith. The bandages went out with my drains, the battle scar stayed with me. My breast is gone, I am still a woman, and I am still beautiful, for I have defined my beauty.

Hospital (check)... Now On To Chemo

We met with Dr. Weiss again yesterday to have my drains removed. Oh that hurt bad! But it is so nice to have them out! We have now left the hospital behind us. The first item to check off in the battle!

We were able to get in with Dr. Ali Ben-Jacob, my oncologist, for a last minute appointment. He took as much time with us as we wanted, over an hour, and really discussed my case. We now have a war strategy which will begin January 7, 2010. Exactly 1 month after my mastectomy.

Chemo strategy... 8 treatments(intravenous) 2 weeks apart (so 16 weeks). Four treatments of Adriamycin and Cytoxzn and then 4 treatments of Taxol. Along with that, I will have 52 intravenous doses of Herceptin which is one time a week, starting after my fourth chemo treatment. (Herceptin is not a chemo drug and has no side effects. What it does do, is cut my odds of cancer recurrence by 50%. It is the third item in my triple positive diagnosis. So even though it will be long, it will be worth it.) When the chemo drug treatments are complete, I will follow them up with a Tamoxifen pill for the next 5 years. I will also have radiation. It will come part way through the chemo treatments. (Radiation will be with another doctor and so we don't have the specifics on it yet)

That is one life sentence packed paragraph! And it is for my life...to keep my life...to live my life.

Diagnosis Update

We met with Dr. Weiss again today for a check-up. Everything looks good (at least from a surgeon's point of view, LOL). He did leave my drains in (darn) until Tuesday, however the bandages are off the port implant incision. I looks just lovely.

Now for the pathology report... I do have stage 3A cancer. That means that cancer was found in some lymph nodes, but not all that were taken out. There was no cancer found near the margins of the mastectomy, so they are confident it was all removed.

This adds a bit from what we were originally told, but was what we were expecting to hear. I will have to have radiation as well as chemotherapy, due to the cancer metastasizing to the lymph nodes. I guess if I am going to have cancer...I might as well go for the full experience!

Dr. Weiss continues to be confident and almost excited about my triple positive status. (See "The Diagnosis" from November 21, 2009). It is the silver lining that will bring remission.

Am I Being Real?

Many of you are beginning to ask what is wrong with me because I am handling this all too well. I have been asked if I am just being strong for everyone else, etc. Rather than respond to each inquiry individually, I wanted to let everyone know how I am really doing and why.
What you see (and read) is what is really happening. I take my feelings as they come. From time to time, I do break down and have a good cry, but I get it out and move on. While coming home yesterday, I was surprised when Jared pulled into the garage and I started to cry at the thought of going in the house. In the hospital I was fine, but bringing my condition home with me was emotional. We tackled that as we have every step of this trial...we acknowledged the emotions and pain, and then jumped in. Once in the house, I was still me and all was well.

But "Why?", why does it work that way? Our family scripture study put us in some good chapters while I was at the hospital. In the Book of Mormon, Alma talks with his sons, giving them council,
"And now my son, Shiblon, I would that ye should remember, that as much as ye shall put your trust in God even so much ye shall be delivered out of your trials, and your troubles, and your afflictions, and ye shall be lifted up at the last day."(Alma 38:5)
This is it. This is what I am doing, not half way but completly following it through. To have faith and put my trust in God means I have to let go, step back, and enjoy the blessing of being delivered.

I have to say, coming out of surgery was awful. I woke up in pain, I was covered with tubes and wires and people, and I quickly got clostrophobic and wanted to run. I couldn't take it, but I was stuck. Jared quickly stepped in, gently whispered in my ear as he has done so many times for me in childbirth, and refocused my attention. I was able to let go of what was before me, step back, and be delivered.

I have a firm belief that this life is not intended to go smoothly, that would be a waste of time. This life is for us to prepare to meet God. It is in trial that we are sanctified and become more like Jesus Christ. I am grateful for my trial, for cancer, and for what I will become because of it. The key in this is FAITH. I have a strong faith that has become so over time through obedience. I am not perfect, but I have tried to do what I have been commanded to do, and that has prepared me, and it has prepared my family. I'm not sitting here with regrets. I'm not sitting in fear. Life is good because I have chosen to see the good, and the good is real.

Surgery Day

We're sure many of you would like to know what is going on today. There are some cool things on the Internet now that can help with that. Jared is going to "tweet" (short blog type messages) the events of the day on his Twitter page. Go to that page from time to time today to see how the day is going for us. We do feel and appreciate your prayers in our behalf.

Why Now, Why at Christmas?

As Jared and I cuddled this morning and watched the Music and the Spoken Word (Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra...) this question entered my mind, "Why now, why at Christmas". And then I pondered. "What better time?" First off, I am not a summer time fan. I hate being hot. After surgery, I will want to cuddle up cozy with pillows and blankets and soft warm jammies, things I wouldn't want around me in the heat. Next, what better distraction, for me, but even more for my children. Third, I love Christmas! I love all it entails. I love the sights, the smells, the sounds, the feel, the taste. And this year, I get to slow down and take it all it. Isn't that what we all would like to do, really? And last but all encompassing, It's all about the little babe, born to a young woman who was overwhelmed and anxious about the responsbility that grew within her. She brought forth the child that would grow to be the man that would carry me,ME, a young woman (ok, young for breast cancer anyway) who is overwhelmed and anxious about the responsibility growing inside of me. This year I celebrate with a deeper gratitude, knowing that he will carry me.
"Why now, why at Christmas?"...I wouldn't want it anyother way.

They Wore Pink for Me

I work with some of the best people and at one of the best places. Yesterday, they made my day. It started with Mr. Earl. He walked into the teacher workroom with a pink ribbon pinned on his shirt. Then my dear friend Bette walked in wearing a pink shirt and a big pink bow in her hair, with pink stuff for my kids to wear too, as well as gifts for me. I soon realized they were all up to something. All the staff were wearing pink ribbons, all in support of me and my battle. It made what could have been a hard day, my last at work for a while, into a day of love and support and joy. I was showered with words of support and hugs of love throughout the day. Even the students wished me well in their own innocent ways. Carrie made me a poster on the bulletin board with hugs for me. Another dear friend, Christy brought spools of pink ribbon for my class to wear bows tied around their wrists. Boys who DO NOT LIKE PINK were begging for a ribbon. My class also made a book with their journal pages for that day. Mrs. Fairbourn had them write what they liked about Mrs. Luther. I do hope my treatments and recovery allow me to still have time at the school. I need to be there. They are healing to be with. I love my job!