a year

A year ago today it was cold and rainy.  It was the kind of cold that doesn't often happen in July and causes you to be chilled to the bone.

Our little family spent the day at the Hanover Tomato Festival where Elayna was competing in the Tiny Miss Tomato Pageant.  She was wearing a beautiful blue gown.  I carried her most of the day due to the torrential rainstorm that passed through after the pageant.  Although we were soaked, we had a good day.  After stopping at a farmer's market on Pole Green Road, we came home and took showers to warm up.

I was so uncomfortable.  My breast and underarm area were so sore.  Elayna and I got in the shower together to warm up.  As she was rinsing off I started rubbing my underarm to ease my discomfort, that is when I felt it - a lump.  I remember my panic, and then my immediate dismissal.  I convinced myself that it was nothing.  I was obviously over reacting.  I got Elayna toweled off and dressed and then I did a full breast exam.  I recall my hands trembling when I realized that the lump was still there.  It was not a figment of my imagination.

I pulled my computer into my lap and began Googling, everything I found said not to worry. I read article after article that said if it you are under 40 it is probably nothing, if you find it yourself it is probably nothing, if it hurts it is probably nothing.  After googling for hours I decided to give it a few days to see if the lump changed at all.  By that point I had poked it so many times that I figured I had probably made whatever it was swell, and it was undeniably sore and red from the prodding.

The next morning I woke up before the kids and scrolled through my Facebook feed.  I again read the story of a lovely young mother who had recently been diagnosed with breast cancer. I spent a good part of the morning reading and re-reading her story.

By the middle of the week I was a basket case, alternating between convincing myself that I was fine and realizing that the lump was still there and I had to do something. I remember vividly having David feel it.  He had just come home from work, before he even got all the way through the door I told him that I had felt a lump and was sure it was nothing, but wanted him to check.  We both smiled.  I am a total hypochondriac and worry incessantly.  I think we both anticipated that he wouldn't feel it, or would be able to tell that it was a bug bite, or something- anything but a lump.

I will never ever forget the look on his face when he felt the lump.  It confirmed all the terror that I had built up over the preceding few days. The lump was there, it was real.  With worry in his eyes he told me he thought I needed to call the doctor.

I remember kicking myself for waiting until he got home, I knew the doctor's office would not be open until morning.  I remember being completely terrified, but so relieved that I had finally shared my fear with him.

The next month is going to be filled with milestones, with anniversaries of dates that changed my life forever.  I hope that you will indulge me as I reminisce about the summer of 2015.  The summer that my little girl's beauty pageant saved my life.



#fightlikeamommy

Binder Free

I haven't spoken much about my binder.  For the first few weeks after my surgery in April I had to wear a nylon binder/girdle contraption 24 hours a day - except when I was showering. It was very itchy and difficult to put on.  It actually caused the hives to come back on a few occasions until I realized that I could put a slip on under it. After the first couple of weeks I was able to step down to a spanx type binder.  This was pretty heavenly, it was still very tight - but much smoother.  The other advantage is that I could put it back on by myself, and didn't have to ask for help each time I got dressed.  The disadvantage is that because of the new binder's shape I had to totally disrobe every time I had to go to the bathroom.

I need you to imagine the significance of this statement for just a moment.  I had to totally disrobe each and every time I had to go to the bathroom for almost two months.  It was a huge embarrassment and inconvenience. I am sure that people wondered why it took two to three times longer each time I had to excuse myself.

I am so thankful to be cleared from using the binder. It is still difficult to pick up items that weigh more than thirty or forty pounds.  From time to time I get strange, phantom pains, or an itchy sensation where by belly button should be.  I am constantly adjusting to my new normal.

Part of my new normal is the reality of what doctors' appointments are like.  I feel as though every medical professional  in the Richmond area has examined my new breasts.

Doctor's visits begin with the wait. I can't get upset about it, there are far too many people suffering from cancer.  I sit in waiting rooms with people who are in various stages of the same struggle that I am experiencing.  Sometimes I start up a conversation with them, other times I am far too timid.  I see the glances of family and care givers trying to figure out my place or purpose in the cancer institute.  It is hard, I have almost perfected the art of chemoflauge.  Sometimes I just want to cry out, "It's just make-up, I hurt too!"  That is the truth, it is my truth.  I hurt often.  Mostly pains from my stomach incision and the muscles surrounding it, sometimes pains from my newly formed breasts, occasionally discomfort from my port.   Sometimes brand new pains that last for a day or two and throw me into a tailspin, terrified that the pain is caused by a new or metastasized cancer.  I smile through it, work through the pain and fear, it is my new normal - I have to adjust.  There is no other option.  I have to remind myself almost daily that I am only 5 months out from major surgery.

When I am called back to be seen by the doctor I am handed an impossibly small blue gown.  As I continue to lose weight it becomes easier to close, however I can always see my bright red scars reflected in the mirrors that surround me. They stand out in stark contrast to my pearly white skin.  I measured, my scars if placed from end to end read would reach from the floor all the way to my new breasts.  The irony is clear.  For me this is the hardest part, being stuck in a room where I am so vulnerably able to inspect my new self.  The woman that cancer created.

Internally, I am very much the same Rebecca. I feel as though my personality shines through, no matter what I am feeling.  This gives me great peace.  Every day I become stronger and am able to do the simple tasks that I used to give little or no thought to.  I am thankful now for every little thing, every day.

It is inspirational for me to hear from people who have followed my story.  It warms my heart to hear how the words that I write here affect them.  Often times these posts are very difficult to write and leave me emotionally exhausted.  I continue to write with the hope that I will both inform and inspire.  More than anything I want to spread the importance of early detection.  I am alive today because I was inspired to perform self exams by a fellow warrior.  I am thankful every day for her guidance, bravery, and willingness to share her story so openly.

There are not words adequate to express my gratitude for all of you who have supported me through this past year.  I am so thankful for all of you.  I cannot begin to tell you how many times that I read and re-read your kind messages and posts.  I keep a bag with every single inspirational note and card that I have been lucky enough to receive.  It is overflowing. I am so blessed by wonderful friends and an amazingly strong support system.

I look at the calendar in disbelief that it has been almost a year since my diagnosis.  There are many different ways that people decide on their "cancerversary." I have decided to claim the day of the epic phone call when my worst fears were confirmed.  That is the day that I became, and will remain a survivor.

Please continue to spread love and light in all things that you do. Find the light in the darkest of situations, it is always there if you open your heart to find it.

I will continue to #fightlikeamommy, after all #itisstillmyfairytale.

Only 3 Left!

I cannot believe that this part of my journey is coming to an end.  There is an anxiety that is not often spoken of during this portion of treatment.  When I was first diagnosed I had a plethora of doctors surrounding me at all times.  It was hectic and stressful, but oddly comforting that I was embraced with such immense care.  As I have progressed through treatment many of my doctors have "dropped off." They are still there if I need them, but I don't have to check in regularly.  It is both a relief and a source of anxiety.  After July I will check in with my surgical oncologist once a year, and my oncologist every three months for the next five years.  I am aware that that sounds like a lot, but in comparison it seems like nothing.

This is one of the headbands made for me by Buy a Thread.  I cannot say enough how much I love them, and how beautiful they make me feel.  You should totally go look at their website, you might even see a super cute model.  Buy a Thread

Many of you have been asking about scans, unfortunately the new standard of care is to only have scans if you are symptomatic.  I will have "tumor markers" drawn every three months to see if there is indication that cancer is growing somewhere in my body, but no MRIs, CAT scans, or anything else.  I have to be honest, this terrifies me.  I would be totally okay with having scans done every other week.  However, that is no longer the "standard of care," and I am told that it probably wouldn't be safe to expose myself to that much radiation.

I did receive some pretty amazing news this week.  I get to have my port taken out after my last treatment.  This is awesome!  It has been in for almost a year, and is uncomfortable - useful, but uncomfortable.  I am so glad that my surgeon feels confident enough in my treatment plan to allow me to have it taken out, many cancer patients are asked to keep the port in for a year or sometimes two following treatment.  I am blessed.

The kids are doing great.  They are so sad to be leaving their teachers, but excited about the adventure of summer.  I am pretty sad about school ending too, this year we have been graced with teachers who are total rock stars.  I will be forever grateful to them for helping me pull my sweet babies through this year as gracefully as we have been able to.  

Recently, Tommy reacted to this shirt I was wearing.

This totally amazing shirt was made for me by Lexi.  I am so thankful for her friendship and support, and for her momma, my chemo buddy.

He said, "Fighting Cancer wasn't even that hard mommy."  For a second I was taken aback, then I realized that I had done exactly what I set out to do last August.  I kept the pain, and fear hidden from them.  I fought like a mommy.

I want to thank you all again for loving me through it. I have learned so much about myself, I have made friends in the most unexpected places, I have learned how important it is to live each and every moment.

Please continue to spread the word of early detection, and the importance of self exams.  Had I not been aware of my body, the subtle pain and tiny skittle sized bump I would not have found my tumor. If I had waited for my first mammogram to make myself aware of the risks of breast cancer I would likely be dead.

With the help of my brilliant friend, Beth, I was able to find the perfect dress for my last chemotherapy treatment.  My aunt Jan is making me a fancy cape to go with it.  I am going to look like a real live princess.  I am so excited.

My dear friend Lauren threw me a surprise 31 party.  It was a huge success and I was so honored.  I have the best friends.

Chemo, the inside scoop

In the week following surgery I had a chance to visit with two of my very very best friends.  I am an extremely lucky woman to have so many incredible friends and supportive family that truly bring out the best in me.  You have all carried me through this time in my life, and I am grateful for each and every one of you.

My Jessika asked me about chemo, what it is like, who goes with me, etc.  I realized that was something I have never really journaled about.

The first time I came for chemotherapy my mom and my sweet, incredibly supportive friend, Jennifer, came with me.  After that first time - after seeing the fear in my mothers eyes when the nurse explained that my heart might feel cold for a few moments because the chemotherapy is being pumped directly into it, I decided that it was best for me to do this part alone. At least the first hour or so of each treatment. It is extraordinarily hard for me to see anyone worried for me.

Accessing my port is usually pretty comical.  I have a port that takes great finesse to access.  They have to recline my chair all the way back, sometimes to the point that I am at a 45 degree angle with my head pointed down.  I then have to raise my arms, look to the right and take several deep breaths. Today I had to raise my leg as well as both of my arms, while looking to the right and taking deep breaths to get blood return from my port.  It really one of the few moments in life when something is both borderline hysterical and pretty scary at the same time.

Then they flush the line with saline, I can taste it in my mouth.  I am not sure how that works, what I can tell you is that it is very strange.  The next step is taking my pre-chemo meds, Benadryl and Tylenol to ward off any possible allergic reaction or fever associated with chemo.

After all that I take my chemo selfie while they mix up my poison.



I thought you may be interested in a closer look of what the "accessed port" looks like.

After the pre-meds I have to wait thirty minutes until I can receive the chemotherapy. When I am ready and my labs come back I get each of the different drugs one at a time intravenously over the next several hours.

Each time I go to chemotherapy I am surrounded with fellow warriors, they are almost always positive - and talkative.  I have made many friends in that great big room.  I also have many wonderful nurses that take care of me.  I cannot say enough good things about these women, they are truly amazing and answer all of my questions with grace and wisdom.

I have had many wonderful visitors come to spend time with me during chemo, and I would never object to the company.  My mother in law and father in law came to have lunch with me during one of the longer treatments, my dad came with me after my mastectomy, a co-worker's amazingly wonderful survivor wife came to have lunch with me (that was exceptionally cool because Sue had never met me before that day, but sat with me for hours sharing words of wisdom and love), my spectacular friends Autumn and MC came dressed as Minions to bring me lunch and make me laugh during one of my treatments  (I wish we had snapped a picture, that is a wonderful, cherished memory), the mother of one of my son's first best friends came and spent time with me, and David has come to visit and have lunch with me.

Today I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that my very beautiful Grandma is with me.  It was 22 years ago today that she became an angel.  In this picture she was 39, not much older than I am now.

Thank you all for your continued love and support.  I cannot begin to tell you how much it means to me to be so well loved and prayed for.  I am so incredibly grateful for each and every one of you reading this.  I am very proud that this blog has been read at least 10,500 times (or has at least that many hits).  I am hopeful that I am doing my part to spread awareness and spreading the true importance of early detection.

I hope that you have a beautiful day!

#fightlikeamommy
#itisstillmyfairytale

I've been quiet...

It occurred to me today that I have been really quiet about this surgery.  That is because the hives came back - worse and more painful than before.

Friday evening I felt great, even into Saturday morning.  By Saturday evening I was a tearful, swelly wreck.  The hives covered me from my scalp and face, down my arms to my hands, and too many on my torso/upper leg region to count.  David said he thought it may have been easily 500 on just my back.  The pain was unreal.  In hindsight I wish I had taken pictures of my hands.  It is fascinating to see the hives form perfect circles on top of each other.  Strangely, it reminds me of tie-dye. They covered my palms, and went up both sides of  my fingers.

The hands, face, and feet are the hardest to deal with.  The hive is a reaction, you itch it and it releases histamines, eventually dissipating into the surrounding fat.  In your hands, feet, and face you don't have that extra fat, so the hives have nowhere to go.  This creates a constant burning, itchy sensation.

It has been a rough few days, but thankfully I knew what to do.  I had a lot of conversations with God, and a lot of help from my husband.  Now I am thankful to say that I only have the pain from the surgery and a few, scattered hives.

I think we have proven the hypothesis that my body produces the hives in response to trauma.  I am so thankful that the worst of them lasted less than four days and that I didn't need any steroids.

For now I am still wrapped up in a binder, but I am fairly confident that I will be pleased with the results from this surgery.  The spot I was worried about was confirmed necrosis and he was able to break it up.  My body will eventually absorb it.  The surgeon also revised both the scars that had formed necrotic tissue, and closed the wound that had been opened since January.  I am so thankful for his steady hands and amazing work.

I am also thankful for a very special nurse that has been with me (either in the OR or in Prep for the OR) for each of my surgeries. Courtney and I went all through elementary school, middle school, and high school together.  The first day I was at St. Francis to have my port placed I was so scared.  I saw Courtney rush past us and asked another nurse if that was her, my childhood friend.  It was, we were both so happy that she would be there with me.  I don't think that there are words adequate enough to describe how wonderful it is to know that I have someone like Courtney there, in the operating room,  to watch over me.  I am so thankful for her friendship, and for her amazing nursing skills.

As soon as the binder comes off I promise to share lots of pictures.  In other completely amazing news the ladies at  Buy a Thread are making me some super fancy new headbands.  One of you wonderful people paid it forward for me to have a few made, and I cannot wait to see them!

Until my next post I promise to keep up the #fightlikeamommy, you promise me to spread love and light into the world!

The Things I Haven't Said

When I was thinking of the title for this post I kept singing "fight song"inside my head.  It is my anthem, as well as the anthem for many people fighting cancer.

So, the things I haven't said.

I have been sacred.  Mind numbingly scared.

There is a lump, in my new breast - on the cancer side.

My mind has been exploding (like a wrecking ball inside my brain).  The lump is about the size of a robin's egg, and it is sometimes painful.  It has been there for several weeks.  I have had it ultra sounded twice just to be sure, and it is not cancer.

not cancer

It is something called fat necrosis that can be removed during my surgery on Friday.  The lump has literally kept me up at night on several occasions.  I am so glad to know that it is nothing, even more glad to know that after Friday it will be gone too.

I am so thankful that it is not cancer.  I know that having cancer return is a fear that will never go away.  Before I returned to work I had to get a baseline ultrasound of my ovaries and uterus.  It was a baseline, no big deal - nothing to worry about.  I went in confident, until the scan started.  The tech was studying the screen, pressing harder at times and typing away.  I was terror stricken.

Why was she typing?  Why was she pressing?  What did she see?  Why wasn't she saying anything?

I finally asked her, and was given the standard response, "I can't share the results with you, the doctor has to review them first."  I've had enough scans recently that I know this is the standard procedure.  It makes my heart sink each time.  I understand, but it doesn't stop the uncertainty.

Minutes afterwards I was sitting with my doctor and he was able to tell me that everything was fine. What an amazing feeling of relief, and how happy I am to have a doctor that cares enough to do preventative testing.

My hives came back after I wore my high heels last week.

I was so ready to be that Rebecca again.  The one with pretty dresses, my own hair, and super cute heels.  I had two out of the three, but my body was clearly not ready for the heels yet.

Each night I get something that is typically referred to as "swelly belly."  It effects my belly, legs, and feet.  My lymphatic system was thrown off by the surgery and my body doesn't regulate fluid like it used to.  This causes me to appear as though I am 4 months pregnant by about 7 every night.  It typically resolves by morning and just makes me feel swollen, awkward, and uncomfortable as the evening progresses. After trying to wear heels my feet stayed swollen for the entire work week, and the hives came back.  I won't be doing that again for awhile.

It does make it hard meeting new people.  In my mind I am this girl -

Sometimes I forget that I am both physically and mentally very different.  Seeing the love, the true love and admiration in my friends eyes when they see me now is heartwarming. I appreciate every compliment, every smile, every kind word so much.

Elayna closely examines my head every day and says, "It's coming back baby!"  It has become her mantra for me.  It makes us both laugh, and it is indeed "coming back baby." It will be a few years before my hair is the length it was. Until then I am going to do my best to rock each style I have to go through until it is long again.

My sweet friend, Lauren, brought me some fun wigs to try out in the interim. How fun are they?!

I am so lucky to have the most amazing friends and family.  I am so thankful that I don't have to go through cancer alone.  

Surgery is three days away.  It is so surreal.  I should be climbing the walls, but I am at peace.  St. Pio is still watching over me, and your prayers and love surround me every day.  The part I was the most afraid of is over.  The lump that had me so scared isn't cancer.  I am so incredibly thankful.

Thank you all again for loving me through it.  Please continue to share the importance of self exams and early detection.  I am so thankful to have found my tumor when I did, I never would have found it had I not been aware of my body.

Continue to spread love and light into the world in all the things that you do.

#fightlikeamommy
#itisstillmyfairytale
#prayhopedonotworry

Spring Break

Wow!  What a week.  I am always spellbound by the beauty of just being with my children and husband.  Sometimes I sit back and think how lucky we truly are to have each other.  Tommy and Elayna are best friends.  I don't know how long that will last, but I know that for now it is a beautiful thing that I treasure.



We began Spring Break with Easter Egg Hunts, one with dear old friends, and one with new friends.  I cannot begin to explain how nice it is to feel well enough to go out and meet new people.

 

Then the bunny came! That Easter Bunny knows my babies so well!  He brought books, science projects, Barbies, and the Guardians of the Galaxy movie as well as the CD.  We have had the best time pretending to be superheros and singing along to the sound track as loud as humanly possible.

We spent the rest of the week adventuring and visiting friends and family.  We even got to see a magic show at the Children's Museum and make slime!  We took another trip to Southern Seasons.  Tommy and Elayna love to watch the Food Network.  It was so much fun to see the store through their eyes.  They were positive that Bobby Flay was going to peep around the corner any minute.  If you have never visited Southern Seasons you should add it to your "to do list."  Here is a link : Southern Seasons

One of my main missions for the week was to visit Nana.  She is my last living grandparent.  For as long as I can remember she has been a staple in my life.  I remember when I first got a cell phone (back when they were as big as house phones), I would call Nana and Papa walking from class to class at VCU just to hear the smile in their voices when they heard me on the other end of the phone.  That kind of love is powerful. I am glad that the kids and I were able to spend some time with her.

We took a trip to Build a Bear.  My kids love Build a Bear.  For a few weeks now we have been talking about our special angels.  The kids have been regaled with stories of horses being led into houses, eating apple peels during school, penny candy, what it must have been like to grow up in the mountains, and countless other stories about their grandparents.  They love to hear their family history, and I love to tell them about their grandparents and great grandparents.

I also told them about another special angel named Jeremy.  Tommy was so touched by hearing about Jeremy that he decided to name his newest Build a Bear after him. He carefully considered the perfect bear to build in honor of Jeremy.  He chose his favorite superhero, Thor, and then proudly told anyone that would listen why he chose the name.  It was a beautiful and tearful afternoon.  I am so proud of him.

  

I am so thankful for this beautiful Spring Break.  I was able to re-connect with old friends and make new ones.  Most importantly, I was able to spend some wonderful quality time with my little family.

And Friday, April 2nd marks the first day since January that I have been totally hive free!  Yippeeeeeeeeee!!!!! I had only one small patch on Saturday, and none on Sunday.  I am hopeful that is the true beginning of the end and that soon I will be able to wean off of all the antihistamines.

We spent Saturday zooming around in a golf cart with the most amazing people.  The smiles here say it all.



I know that I am tremendously blessed to be surrounded by such love and kindness everyday.  I am so thankful to have been able to share all of these adventures with my little family.


I hope you all have a wonderful week.  Smile at strangers, hug the ones you love, spread love and light.

#fightlikeamommy
#itisstillmyfairytale

12 days until surgery number 3!

I recently read an article where a fellow fighter measured all of her scars and added the lengths together to see how long they would be.  I was super curious to see how long my own scars would be stretched from end to end, the answer is (roughly) 40 inches.  Forty inches of scars. Imagine - if I placed them from to end to end,  beginning with my toes and stretching them upward the scars would end at my breasts (slightly ironic).