Enigma

I'll never forget that time in high school calculus class.  My teacher was giving each student a name based on rules in calculus. One student was tangent, another student was cosine, another was L'Hopital. The teacher looked at me, paused for a second, and called me enigma. I didn't fully know what that meant at the time, but I see now that the enigma or existential quantification means "there is at least one" and that's been the story of my life...it doesn't happen to everyone, but there is at least one, and it's usually me. Like the time I spent four hours in the ER because the doctor was worried it was my gallbladder that was giving me such intense pain in my side. Nope, just a pulled muscle apparently. 

I woke up very early this morning with a headache and stomach ache.  I spent time with Dr. Google, explaining my symptoms in detail, and I came to the conclusion that it all adds up to severe reflux - the stomach pains and bloat, the full feeling, the sore throat, the jaw/teeth pain, the headaches, the tight chest - it turns out in rarer cases (yep, that's me) that reflux even affects the eyes causing dry eye, swelling, and clogged tear ducts (did I mention that when I cried last night, nothing came out of my eyes?!).  So I got out of bed, drank some baking soda with water, and took a nap in my recliner. I felt better, enough to warrant at least eating a banana. I went to my physical therapy appointment and retreated back to my sofa to rest, but the stomach pain continued. Finally when I couldn't take the hunger any more, I ate a slice of toast with a scrambled egg. 

Fast forward to this evening. Sitting on the sofa, watching TV, when all of a sudden I got that taste in my mouth, you know, that metallic taste that means you better run.  Straight to the bathroom, and I vomited everything... yes, everything from the whole day, and maybe from the day before. Six rounds of chemo and I never threw up once... why now?  Enigma.  Where did the reflux come from?  Enigma.  When will it go away?  I don't know.  

Tomorrow I get another echocardiogram, praying that my heart is still strong. My spirit is feeling a little battered at the moment, just trying to keep my head up. 

More pet therapy needed. 

Rinse and Repeat

Today was like all the other days.  Headache, ice, massage, rest. Rinse and repeat. I added some pet therapy to the equation. 

I also added a meeting with my dietitian. We talked about the progress I've made throughout this whole experience and how to keep moving forward.  She and I have been meeting since before my diagnosis.  At the time, I turned to her for ways to make better food choices, particularly around binge eating. But she has been a light on this path, guiding me through my chemo eating troubles and helping me make important connections between food, emotions, stress, and peace. Today I talked about how frustrated I am about not having my taste buds back and having near constant stomachaches since Friday and how this experience has been teaching me big lessons, such as, I don't need that much food and I don't have to be sad about it, that I won't be able to go back to the person I was before cancer and that's okay, that the fears that I have around reoccurrence, weight gain, lymphedema, etc. are perfectly rational fears but I don't have to live in fear... 

So my homework today was (1) spend time in my journal processing my feelings, (2) extend grace to myself because this isn't a little thing to go through, and (3) give myself short term goals around food, I don't have to plan for forever.

Thank you Heather. This is my small and satisfying dinner - BBQ salmon, rice with quinoa, and broccoli. Now I will go and write and cry...

 

Fussy

I was so happy to be back in my bed, back with my pillows, back with Matt. I slept through the night which is everyone’s dream. But I woke up at 6 am to another massive headache. I stretched and massaged and cried. And then I went back to sleep. I awoke still feeling the sting of whatever is bothering me. I started to feel like Dr. House, looking at my symptoms and trying to come up with a diagnosis. The scalp pain, the neck pain, the sore throat, the swollen eye, the reflux, the constipation…none of it makes sense. Neither does it make sense to my oncologist. I went for my infusion and he said my blood work looked perfect, hemoglobin back up, white counts are right, no signs of anemia or anything else. He was surprised because he expected me to come bouncing in saying I’m feeling great, no more chemo, all is right with the world. He was so excited to hear of my post surgery results, achieving a pCR, the pathological complete response. No more cancer, this is all great news! But to feel this crappy makes no sense. None whatsoever. At last we explored the idea that maybe this could be related to menopause. Hard to say for sure, the symptoms don’t add up, but there is the potential that I’ve been forced into menopause and it’s rearing it’s head, but I can’t help but think it’s a combination of post surgery pain and … well, I just don’t know. And that’s why I cried. Because my body and mind are tired of not feeling well and not knowing why. I just want to feel better already. 

Next on the list, meet with the radiologist, get another echocardiogram, get another CT scan, and meet with the thoracic surgeon. No more cancer doesn’t mean no more fuss…still a long road ahead of me. 

In the meantime, I’ve been spending extra time with my best friend (apologies to my real best friends!). Anything to help me get through this.

Trial Period

I was so glad to go to physical therapy this morning. My PT helped me get past a raging headache and sore muscles, and she was proud of my efforts because she could tell how much I had improved in draining the swelling over the weekend. 

It’s in a very sensitive state right now, still very tender and sends shivers through my body when I massage over the incisions, but I know it’s all part of the process so I’m sucking it up. 

Unfortunately I’m still nursing a headache and sore neck. My head feels like someone pulled my hair out and my neck and ears feel sore. I can’t quite describe it but coupled with my ongoing stomachache, I have a general malaise. I don’t want to do much of anything because I really feel under the weather. 

I’m always trying to figure out how to make things better, so I wasn’t sure if two weeks in a recliner had taken a toll on me. Was it the pain relievers? Was it that thing I ate? I can’t figure it out but tonight is a trial period, I’m sleeping in bed tonight for the first time in two weeks to see if I can manage and if I hopefully feel better tomorrow. Wish me luck.  First ice, then massage, then sleep. 

It’s a Process

I keep imagining I can do more, I keep waiting to be able to do more. But I can’t do more yet, because recovery is a process. It takes time. That’s what my friends reminded me of with a delicious gift this morning. 

I was so pleasantly surprised to get this sweet treat along with bagels for me and the family. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude! Thank you!

It was a busy weekend, celebrating my grandmother’s 93rd(?) birthday. Unfortunately she won’t remember it but I was glad to be there nonetheless.

In the evening the children made a fort and we watched a Christmas movie. 

And today was the girl’s piano recital. 

But truthfully I spent most of the weekend sitting around and resting. I’ve been doing my PT exercises and lymphatic massage. I’m hoping it’s been making things better, but I’ve been feeling pretty achy, especially in my neck and head, and my stomach had been upset too. Maybe this is a side effect? Or maybe the ibuprofen is irritating my stomach? I will ask tomorrow at my next appointment. The bottom line is I just want to feel better already. Tomorrow will be two weeks…how much longer will this last? 

Physical Therapy

I couldn’t wait to go to my first physical therapy session. I needed to break out of this slump, literally. I’ve been bracing myself and guarding my wound so much that it’s made me stiff and immovable. 

The physical therapist assessed the area and took some baseline measurements for lymphedema. She measured my fingers, wrists, all the way up my arms. Apparently I’m doing alright, except for in my armpit area. She said this is typically a much more tender spot to heal than the breast itself. There is a lot of fluid built up that needed to be rubbed away towards the lymphatic system, so I laid down for her to massage my arm, armpit, and breast. It was definitely a challenge to have someone press, albeit gently, against my incisions, but I know it needed to be done. And she sent me home with homework to do these massages twice a day along with some other stretching exercises to help regain my range of motion. I really want to get stronger, heal (in the right time), and get back to doing some very normal things like lifting literally anything with my left arm without pain. Here goes nothing…

Talking Hands

I was talking to my mom earlier and I realized I was not only talking with my hands but they were up high in the air. I immediately apologized and told her I wasn’t yelling at her with my hands, I just had them raised because I couldn’t really put my arm down! 

I am still very sore and swollen, much more than I thought I would be at this point. The naproxen is helping to keep the headaches and aching pain at bay temporarily, but I can’t fully drop my shoulder because of the arm pain in the back and lumpy swelling in the front. I feel like the Hunchback of Notre Dame, hobbling across my house and grunting in agony  

Thankfully I received a call today from a physical therapy office at the request of my surgeon, and thank God not a moment too soon. They want to do an assessment for lymphedema therapy, so I am going tomorrow! Hopefully I will learn more how to get over this swelling and pain and find some relief on the other side. 

In the meantime, I keep the ice on and hopes up.

The Winning Side

Today was my appointment with the breast surgeon. I was looking forward to seeing her and having her remove the bandages.  

She was very pleased with how it came out. The one incision is about the length of my middle finger. She put some tape over it. The other incision under my arm is still very tender and swollen. I need to keep icing it and taking anti-inflammatory medicine. This incision is where she removed 3 lymph nodes from my armpit area. I will need to be conscientious going forward not to have my blood pressure taken on this arm, and do my best to prevent infections or I could run the risk of lymphedema. 

All that being said, the good news of this visit was the pathology report. Everything the surgeon removed was sent for testing and everything came back clear with no evidence of cancer! I had what is known as a pathological complete response (pCR), where there is no residual cancer left due to the effectiveness of the neoadjuvant treatment, or chemo before surgery.  This makes everything that I had to go through totally worth it! 

Am I shouting from the rooftops? Well, not quite. I’m still cautiously rejoicing…partially because cancer snuck up on me the first time, it’s left me a little scarred, and also I’m still in a holding pattern on this mysterious mass in my chest. But will I take this as a win? Yes I will. It’s nice to be on the winning side of life again. 

Yes She Can, But…

I woke up too early today, still with a headache, and tried to get through the morning. My mom and I had breakfast and then she took me to the supermarket for my first big outing. I figured it had been over a week, I could manage this. Nope. I couldn’t wait to get home. My arm was sore, my breast was sore, my head was aching. I quickly put the groceries away and got my ice pack and heat pack. Back to my chair to rest. As my shirt says, Yes She Can, but should she? Not always. It’s not easy to listen to what our bodies are telling us, especially in this go, go, go society we live in. I encourage you to take a moment to listen to what your body and mind need and take time to rest. It will be hard to push the necessities aside and say no to certain tasks, but without a strong, healthy body, our work and our lives suffer and so do we. 

I was pleasantly surprised later when a friend dropped off some homemade delights, including some kimchee fried rice! It hit the spot. What a lovely treat, thank you!

Tomorrow I finally meet with the breast surgeon to get the dressing removed and see her handiwork. I’m looking forward to moving forward. 

A Week Already

I still cannot believe it’s been a week since my surgery. I would love to say that I’m feeling great but I’m just ok. I still have numbness under my arm, my incision area is sore to the touch, and sometimes I feel a sharp pain near my armpit. But the greatest headache, literally, has been wearing a bra 24/7. Any woman reading this knows how refreshing it feels to remove your bra. Even the most comfortable bra is still not pleasant to wear all day long. I have to wear these post-surgical compression bras that give me an all-day headache. My neck and shoulders are tighter than a bodybuilders abs, and I can’t get a massage or chiropractic adjustment because I can’t press against my chest! So it’s hard to do much of anything when my head is throbbing, and I don’t want to rely on pain relievers. In fact, last night was the first night I didn’t take any at bedtime and I’m glad to no longer need them. The best I can do right now is put an ice pack on my boob and a hot pack on my neck!

I also got out of the house today for only my second walk outdoors in a week. I’ve taken my isolation quite seriously, to recuperate from the surgery and also to steer clear of places where I could get sick (the flu is ramping up out there). I took the girl to get a fresh haircut and she looks great.

Homebody

What a perfect day to lay in bed (or in my case in my recliner). It was rainy and balmy, and a great day to make soup. 

The boys spent the day walking outdoors while the girls spent the day indoors, reading and resting. I’ve become quite the homebody. I’ve been reading Kate Bowler’s memoir, Everything Happens For A Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved. I highly recommend this book if you’ve ever questioned why anything has happened in your life and where was God at that moment. It’s a huge wake up call from the prosperity gospel mindset that if you just pray hard enough, do the right things, and confess your wrongdoing, God will bless you with all the health and wealth you desire. 

She even has some great advice on things never to say to people experiencing tough times. Here are a few good ones: 

I spent the time reading in my chair with this wonderful gift. My dear friend made me these fabulous pillows to prop up my arms and they are also great to hold my ice pack in place. Thank you my birthday twin!

Finally the rain stopped and the sun broke through just enough to raise my spirits one last time before the setting sun. Thank you God for this beautiful day and the chance to see it. I’m so grateful. 

Before and After

Yesterday proved to be quite an uncomfortable day, but today I felt much better. I could finally say I’m turning a corner, and while it’s still painful to the touch and I cannot lift anything of significant weight on that side, I don’t have the same throbbing pain I’ve had for days. 

I cannot believe how the week has gone by; it was only yesterday in my mind I was praying and crying for safety through this surgery. Now here I am five days later like it was a distant memory. 

Time really does fly. This was me, about seven months ago, the day after my 44th birthday. I had no idea what was happening inside of me; I was blissfully unaware. Like a thief in the night, I was violated by cancer and my whole world turned upside down and inside out. Now this is me, after six rounds of chemo and a lumpectomy. I have parts of me now missing, and my mind changed about life in many ways, but my spirit is intact. I do not take this precious life for granted and pray for many, many more days ahead. 

My healing wounds, on the outside. There are wounds on the inside that you don’t see. 

Recovery Day 3

I ask myself how many recovery days will I have? Today was a tough day. I was hoping the healing was speeding along, but today was somehow harder. I didn’t take any Tylenol during the day like yesterday to see how I could manage. But my body had been bracing itself for too many hours and it finally gave up…my muscles ached in my neck, shoulders, and back, which gave me a headache most of the day. And of course there’s pain in the incision and the numbness is still under my arm. 

I had a lot of time to think today, though. I thought about my stepmother, who has helped care for my dad for over 30 years after he had a life-changing accident. She didn’t ask for that role, and I couldn’t help but think of Matt, because he didn’t ask for the role of caregiver either, and yet here they are, loving us unconditionally through this messy life. Not to mention my parents, of course, who carry such a great burden in caring for me. I have no words. 

I thought about my daughter, who mentioned to her teacher on Monday that she was nervous for my surgery and that she was wearing a necklace to think of me, which prompted the teacher to call and check up on me. I was blown away by her generosity of spirit to see if there was anything she could do for us, someone outside of our friend/family circle reaching out to support our child…what a blessing! And for my daughter to write this beautiful message of thankfulness for her classroom bulletin board. I’m overwhelmed. 

I took a hot shower to ease the pain in my body and retreated to my sleeping space. It’s given me peace of mind to have this quiet space at night to get away, sort of like a healing staycation, where I can figuratively lick my wounds and work on getting myself better without burdening anyone else. This is me, from behind closed doors, bearing my soul and praying for healing.