Back to physical therapy

   I'm going back to physical therapy Monday with a lymphedema specialist. Lymphedema is unfortunately one of those things you never really conquer. It's a result of the removal of lymph nodes that had cancer in them during my bilateral mastectomy. I went through months of it after my surgery just to be able to lift my left arm up. I went through all the wrapping of the arm, the sleeves, the night sleeves. I've got a plastic box full of stuff.
   This time, it will be different.
   I've had pain in my left side, just to the side and bottom of my breast, for a few months now. Once I lay down, it's difficult -- and painful -- to get back up. Something's going on with the muscles used for this type of movement. A shot to relieve the pain would only help temporarily. So Dr. Perkins is sending me back for some physical therapy to see if it will help relieve the pain. It's almost like the difficulty I had after the mastectomy, lifting the upper portion of my body.
   When I told Dr. Askren that I was going to do this, he said he was sorry he didn't think of that himself. He knows if anyone can help, it will be this particular therapist.
   They tell me Julie Cash works miracles.
    I'm counting on it.

Yet another good doctor

   When my oncologist, Dr. Chris Perkins, recommended I see a dermatologist to ensure I didn't have any skin issues going on, I wasn't happy. This was a suggestion during my routine 3-month checkup. But good dermatologists are difficult to find in Fresno. Believe me, I had tried before and wasn't happy with what I heard about any of them, except for one.
    I stalled for awhile. Probably a couple of months. At my next visit to my plastic surgeon, Dr. Carl Askren, I told him I needed a good dermatologist. He recommended the same doctor everyone recommends. Dr. Tashjian. That's who he'd go to. I told him I had already tried to get in to see him, but they had informed me he wasn't taking on new patients.
   Dr. Askren offered to see what he could do to get me in. Within days, I had an appointment. This is what good doctors do for you. They work with you and for you.
   Of course, my luck being my luck, he found some pre-cancerous spots on my nose and I've been going through some minor treatment that's only bad in the way it makes you look for awhile. A red nose full of spots for a couple of weeks followed by some cortisone treatment. It's been about 3 weeks. I still have the spots, but they are slowing disappearing.
   I will tell you he's, without hesitation, the best dermatologist in town. He spends time with you. And as everyone knows, you'll never get in at your scheduled time. They have the call-ahead plan, which works just fine. But I'd rather wait and have a good experience, than be rushed through an exam that leaves me feeling like I never really saw the doctor.
   So, I've happily added another good doctor to my list of great Fresno physicians. And I've taken care of what could have been another bout with cancer.

No boobs, no asthma!!

It's that time of year when my asthma usually kicks in, I can barely breathe and I end up with a hacking cough that sounds like I have the croup. It lasts for months on end. I usually end up at the doctor with walking pneumonia at some point after I'm forced to go to the doctor by my husband, who can't stand any longer to listen to me cough like I'm choking to death.
Well, no more. Thanks to my bilateral mastectomy, it is no more.
No more breasts, no more asthma.
What an incredible solution. Who would have thought it so?
I swear that when I went in for my bilateral mastectomy last February (2010), I was clutching an inhaler. I'd been told by the doctors that I could not be coughing like that during surgery, so I took my last puff before they put me under.
I haven't had to use an inhaler since, knock on wood. Nor have I had to take my twice-daily inhale of my Advair inhaler. I do still take my daily Singulair and my daily Claritan and I still go for my allergy shots every other week, but I was doing all that before the surgery, too.
What on earth was this all about? I sort of made a joke of it when I went on my more-than-regular doctor visits: "Hey doc, you're not gonna believe this, but ever since they cut off my breasts, I don't have asthma anymore??" Mostly, they were shocked.
Finally, my oncologist suggested it might be that the hormone blockers I'm now taking have some steroids in them that might be compensating for the inhaler action. Aha!! Say it's so!
So, if you live in this polluted Valley of ours, I now have the solution. Breast cancer, a bilateral mastectomy, months of chemotherapy, and viola! You may rid yourself of asthma.
But no, I wouldn't recommend this remedy to anyone, not even my worst enemy (I'm not sure I even have one of those!). But I have to say, it's worked wonders for me!

The Art of Life in calendar form!!!

California Oncology of the Central Valley proudly presents

The Art of Life™

2011 Wall Calendar

featuring 12 works of art by women cancer survivors in celebration of LIFE

$20/ea or 2 for $30

*All proceeds benefit The Art of Life™ 2011 Project: COMING SOON!*

Calendars are available at California Oncology’s Front Desk

(6121 N. Thesta,

Ste. 205

near Bullard/41).

Reserve yours today by calling 559.438.7390

or email jenelle@california-oncology.

A great gift for family, friends

 and co-workers!

“What a wonderful surprise to open such a powerful, creative Art of Life calendar from California Oncology!

  The concepts of the women are so intuitive ... awesome really.  Each month captures such a different Spirit.  Aren't women absolutely amazing? 

Especially in the face of crisis and fear .. so often our strengths seem to shine even brighter.

 I am walking through my own cancer journey, but every time I look at this calendar I am reminded that it is going to be a GREAT 2011.

Thank you for giving me the gift of HOPE!”  -Mari

 

 

A year later the memories are clear

It was just a year ago that I went in to the hospital for a bilateral mastectomy. It seems like ages ago. I remember it clearly though, every detail.
My husband's aunt, my friend Jeanne and my husband went with me. My surgery was in the early afternoon and I was expected to go home the next day. Hard to believe, huh?
The plastic surgeon arrived first; we had to wait for the breast surgeon. Four hours, they told us. It ended up taking closer to 5 hours. By the time I actually came to, much later that evening, I didn't know what hit me. They were pumping me with morphine. I couldn't move. I was pretty much out of it. I recall my husband telling me everything went well; that was it.
That first night was the worst. I couldn't get out of bed myself, couldn't lift my upper body. I remember the call button fell to the floor and I struggled to get a nurse to come in to help me. I remember yelling Help over and over until someone finally came in to assist me so I could go to the restroom. I remember the constant noise all night long in the hospital, paging of nurses, the constant interruption of sleep for one thing or another.
I was more aware the next day but still groggy. My husband told me the surgeon found cancer in my lymph nodes and had to pull several, but the cancer cells were dead from the chemo. She wanted to be extra careful so she pulled them out.
I was afraid to see what I looked like. So I really didn't look. The surgeon came in and said there was no way I was ready to go home. My husband thankfully handled the insurance issues that arose from adding an unexpected day to my stay. The nurses forced me to get up and walk...and walk I did. It was painful, but it was the only way I could get home.
The food was awful. I couldn't eat. Jeff and Jeanne brought me a cup of Marble Slab ice cream and I was forever grateful. Unfortunately, it pumped up my sugar level causing the nurses to want to shoot me up with insulin. I explained that I'd eaten ice cream and didn't want the shot! Thank goodness they backed off.
A good friend had somehow persuaded the powers at the hospital to give me a private room. That was a real blessing.
In all, I was grateful to have friends and family around. Going home was tough. My muscles were useless. I felt helpless. I couldn't get up and down for days without assistance. My husband's aunt was here to help and she would pull me up by the back of my pajama pants. What fun!
Looking back now, it seems like it was years ago. So much has happened since. I'm grateful that I had great friends to help me through this tough time, those who visited, brought food, brought fun and laughter to an almost surreal situation.
Today, I look "normal." You'd never know that I went through all that. But boy, do I remember it all...

Fear of ballooning

I'm about to make a cross-country trip via airplane. It used to be fun. Now I've got to wear support hose, lymphedema sleeves on both arms and a lymphedema glove on one hand. As if I don't sweat enough at my age!
Lymphedema will be with me forever. Most days I can't get my watch on my left arm and it's been over a year since I've been able to comfortably wear a ring. I can actually see myself blow up if I do too much with my left arm.
But flying makes it worse. I have to be extra careful. So I'm pulling out the sleeves, the glove and the stockings and off we go. Wish me luck!

Massage, massage, massage

Now that I have had surgery on my right breast again, the key to success, according to the plastic surgeon, is massage, massage, massage---all in hopes of keeping any scar tissue from taking over again. So I do. I massage in the shower, I massage before bed, I even massage while driving to work in the morning. I just have to be on the lookout for large SUVs that might come up alongside me....I hope it works this time.

Am I really an extraordinary ordinary hero?

I was taken by surprise a few weeks back when my niece's daughter called me at work. She told me she'd chosen to write a school essay about me, in which they had to choose someone they considered their hero to write about. She chose me. I couldn't believe it. I was really taken aback. We don't see Carly often. They live in New Jersey, not far from where my daughter goes to college. Maybe we're there once a year now, but we talk often on the phone and Skype when we can.
She only wanted to read the essay to me over the phone. It brought tears to my eyes. It was the sweetest thing ever...
I've copied it here to share with you. Really, all women who have suffered and survived the turbulence of breast cancer are heroes. Remember that as you read this, she's not just talking about me; she's talking about you, too.

My Aunt Valerie... A True Hero

By: Carly Decker

          Not many people my age already know their extraordinary ordinary hero of their life time.  Well, my hero is my Aunt Valerie, a survivor! She overcame breast cancer. My aunt is my hero because she has stayed determined, optimistic, and courageous with her breast cancer treatments. Therefore, her survival has been an inspiration to others!

          Why is my Aunt Valerie courageous? Aunt Valerie experienced five surgeries so far, and is expected to have more. Also, she went through six months of chemotherapy which caused her to feel sick almost every day. Additionally, she shaved all her hair off before the chemo caused it to fall out,and wore wigs in public facing the opinions of those who know her. In conclusion, my Aunt Valerie is a very courageous woman who has experienced very hard times and made it through due to her courage.

          “ Don’t worry, I will get through this,” Aunt Valerie said as she told us for the first time she had breast cancer. She was determined already! Aunt Valerie did what ever it took to improve. She was willing to get as many surgeries as it took to get her body to become better than ever. She even flew cross country because she didn’t want to miss her nieces bat mitzvah , even though doctors didn’t recommend it. She was very determined not to let breast cancer take over her life!

          “Oh, I got my wigs today! Should I be a blonde? Should I be a brunette?” she asked laughingly as she skyped us, showing us how she looked in her new wigs! When my Aunt Valerie called us on the phone telling us she shaved her hair and received the wigs, the first thing she told us  was that she wanted to show us her cool wigs! Also, when we spoke on the phone, she always told us she felt great and then my uncle told us the real deal when she wasn’t around! She feels her mind controls her body. When she thinks she doesn’t feel well, she doesn’t. When she wants to feel better, she believes she has to think it first! Therefore, she continues to think optimistically about how she wants to feel, hoping it will make her cancer improve, and it has!

          Unquestionably, my Aunt Valerie is a survivor of breast cancer. My aunt is my hero because she has stayed determined, optimistic, and courageous with her breast cancer treatments. I am so proud of her that she didn’t give up to a terrible disease. She has taught me never to give up on yourself. I love my aunt very much, and I am so happy to name her my extraordinary ordinary hero!

Coming up for air

I know it's been a long time since I posted. I apologize. December was a hectic month. My daughter came home from college for 4 weeks, we moved to a new home, I had surgery -- again, and we took my daughter and 3 girlfriends toVegas to celebrate her 21st birthday. The move was crazy. All that packing just to unpack. We only moved about a quarter-mile, but it was still a major ordeal.
Then, the surgery, just 4 days after the move. A capsulectomy. It was supposed to be my nipple reconstruction, scheduled for Dec. 27 to get it in while the insurance was still covering 100 percent. No such luck.
My right breast had become hard as a rock, while the left was soft/normal. When I went to see my plastic surgeon, he said there was no way he could do the nipples until we fixed the breast. After a sonogram to determine whether it was fluid (it wasn't), the only other possibility was a buildup of scar tissue.
So, on Dec. 27 I underwent general anesthesia for the 4th time in 2010. The doctor went into the same incision, and according to him, had to scrape a lot of scar tissue out, more than he'd thought....it seems it's always a bigger job with me than anticipated.
Bless his heart, he put some type of medicine in the breast to keep the pain down. It wasn't that bad. A week of recovery, back to work a few days and then off to Vegas. I must be crazy. But we'd promised Lauren that since she was young.
And the girls had a blast! Who wouldn't at 21 in Vegas? Me, I tried my best to do as much as possible. But my strength wasn't completely back yet, though I think I did pretty well.
My legs and feet were killing me from all the packing, etc. but hey, I've been through worse. It was worth it to see the faces on those girls!

Word of warning on breast implants

   If you've had breast augmentation more than 10 years ago, be sure to ask your doctor about getting a breast MRI to check the stability of your implants. They don't last forever! Doctors recommend implants be replaced every 10 years. The problem is that implants can easily leak without your knowledge. And those leakages won't show up on your annual mammogram.
   My friend Liz, who just had her mastectomy last week, found out after the operation that her previous implants (she'd had them 24 years!) had been leaking a long time and had created quite a mess. Thankfully, the discovery of breast cancer had led her to the mastectomy stage and the old implants had to be removed anyway, but her doctors said it was a sorry sight. She's thinking now that the cancer may have been a signal that the implants had gone awry and were polluting her system. So perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, she said.
   Whatever the case, it's a warning sign to all women out there who had breast augmentation years ago. Be sure you're getting checked with breast MRIs. Your regular mammograms won't decipher problems with the implants.
   And for those of you who've gone through breast reconstruction due to cancer, be sure you keep a close eye on your implants. You won't be having mammograms anymore, so your annual MRIs should uncover any issues.
    Seems we women must always be on our guard. So please heed this message if you've had implants in for more than 10 years!

Brings back memories

   A close friend is having a bilateral mastectomy today, with my breast surgeon, at the same hospital, on the same day of the week, at the same time, as mine almost a year ago.
   She has breast cancer, too, similar to mine, though hers is more concentrated and she's having her surgery first to be followed by chemo.
   It brings back memories of my own surgery. I wasn't really scared. I had an idea of what I'd look like after, but the docs never tell you all the details until they have to. I knew I'd have drains, but I had no idea what that would be like. I had no concept of how truly difficult it would be to move after the surgery. Climbing the stairs to our second-floor bedroom was tough. Getting up from a prone position (I did a lot of laying on the couch) was virtually impossible alone.
   I remember the hospital stay. I remember waking up and my husband telling me that everything went well. I heard for the first time that they'd taken out lymph nodes. After that it was a blur till the next day.
  I remember being annoyed that all night long the intercoms were blasting with requests for nurses. Whatever happened to pagers? Calls for every nurse were broadcast into every room. How could anyone sleep, even under the influence of morphine?
  I remember that the call button fell off the bed. Of course, I had to go to the restroom in the middle of the night and couldn't reach the call button. I remember trying to get a nurse's attention. I tried yelling, best I could. Over and over. It was no use. Finally a nurse came in and helped me. It was the worst feeling, not being able to get up on your own.
   The hospital food was inedible. Some friends brought ice cream the next night. I was overjoyed! But the spike in my blood sugar had the nurse wanting to give me an insulin shot. I told her it was just the ice cream and she backed off.
   I couldn't wait to get out of there and get back home....to sleep in peace, to relax...to worry about emptying the drains. What fun!
   I've forwarned my friend and her husband and offered our help. I wish I'd had someone to do that for me! But I feel good now being able to help someone else. But oh boy, does it bring back a lot of memories....

Great Expectations

   I went to see the plastic surgeon this past week for my two-month visit after the last surgery. Poor Dr. Askren was grateful for the story in the newspaper but embarrassed at the same time. He says I've made his job more difficult now because everyone expects him to be absolutely perfect. Another patient, he told me, came in waving my story and asking, "Well, if you really do make boobs better than God, how come she had to have surgery twice?" He laughed. He's taking it all in good humor!
   I did have to have surgery twice, but it's not that abnormal. There's no way the plastic surgeon can know from the get-go how the implants will rest in the skin that's been stretched (or in my case, some cadaver skin was added). And if you're going to have brand-new boobs, you certainly don't want droopy ones.
   Dr. Askren insists I wait another month to see how the implants settle. I can't imagine them moving, I told him. They feel hard as rocks now and pretty darn tight. He checked them out, told me to massage them so there's movement of the implants and he'll see me in a month. That was just a few days ago and I can already feel a difference in the two breasts. One is definitely looser than the other, but they look pretty good to me. Who knows what could happen in another month. Dr. Askren says there's something about the three-month wait...that certain things seem to change about that time.
   Who could have ever imagined that doctors would be able to totally re-create a woman's breast like this? It truly is amazing when you think about what goes into it. I'm grateful the science is there for me, and grateful for doctors like Dr. Carl Askren who've made it an art.