Definitely having surgery now, June 9th, here I come

Well, it's been decided. I went to see Dr. Forsythe yesterday and I'm definitely having surgery. Just not the kind I thought I would. But anyways, L and I went to the office yesterday and Mom met us there. She watched L while I talked to the doctor. I wasn't sure if she would want an exam and I really didn't want L to see anything.

Dr. Forsythe is awesome. I'm so glad I go see her. Anyways, she comes in and I tell her why I want to have an ooph. She listens and then tells me, why not do the whole thing? She gives her reasons, including some embarrassingly obvious ones that I had forgotten, including the stupid period from hell. So we talk it over and decide that I will have a hysterectomy. It has a really long name, Laparoscopic Supercervial Hysterectomy(LSH). It just means that they will go in through about 3 tiny incisions and take out everything but the stump of my cervix. She said to keep that to help with sexual activity and to keep up the wall within or whatever it's called. I've already forgotten.

Anyways, I was prepared for an ooph, but was shaken when she said the hysterectomy. But I kept it together until I left. I've gotten really good at that. Do well at appointments and then shake in the car. The doctor said that she would put me as the first case of the day. It will be on June 9th, Monday morning. I go to SWMC and have to be there at 5:30am. I will be home Tuesday afternoon/evening, she said she could even arrange it so that I wouldn't be released until Jason comes to pick me up after work. Whatever worked for me. She's trying to be very accomodating. I think she's wonderful. I'm in planning mode right now. Trying to figure out my babies and if I can handle things on my own if Jason has to go to work, etc.

I feel such peace now. This whole week has been full of emotion and drama and once I had gotten it decided what surgery to have, I felt so much better. (After a good shake and cry in the car that is.)I was almost elated, not excited to have surgery, but happy to have it decided.

I am upset about something. I was planning to have a GWO with friends about 2 weeks later after surgery. I've decided not to go because I don't think it would be fair to my family. Go have surgery, be in the hospital, rearrange their lives to accommodate me, and then recover at home. Two weeks later, leave for a fun weekend, and leave them all at home. Not right and I would feel terrible about it. So I stay home and wish like crazy I could be there. Then there's the other part of this. I know we stopped with two kids for a reason and didn't have any more. I've been sad but okay with it. But now, knowing I will never ever be able to physically carry a child is hard to deal with right now. It's one thing to decide not to do something, but something else to know the choice is being taken away from you. It's like mourning all over again.

Do you ever feel like you don't belong?

Stupid freaking hormones. I'll be glad when they are all gone.

Do you ever feel like you are back in high school? That you want to be confident and happy and with friends? But in the back of your mind you feel like the ugly geeky kid that will never have a chance to be with the cool kids? It's my own personal doing that makes me feel this way. My self esteem is shot and I know that. I make myself feel that way, no one else. I have my mind set what I think is the cool group whatever the heck that means. And I know I'm not a part of it. I see myself and wonder why the hell anyone would want to be friends with me. I'm fat, I'm not funny, I don't have much, I'm whiney, got health issues, lazy, I'm incredibly shy, no self worth, and I don't know what I want in life. I'm so envious of those who know who they are and what they want. It may be the simplest things, but they KNOW and they go after it. That's incredible to me. To have drive and focus and say what you mean and stand up for it and not be cowed by opinions or who's more popular or whatever.

I'm rambling now. I hate to be vulnerable and I opened myself up in a way today that made me vulnerable. I hate that! I hate to feel bared open with no defenses. So now I want to go hide and pretend I didn't say anything because heaven knows it will probably be taken the wrong way.

Six month oncologist appointment

I had my 6 month visit on Monday with my oncologist. My levels seem fine though he says I'm a bit anemic. I told him of my desire to do the oopherectomy. Honestly, I'd be fine with that or the hysterectomy, either one. He said that I'm perfectly within my rights to do it. He can't say do this or that, but he did say that the aromatise inhibitors have a 20% better chance of preventing reaccurence then tamoxifen does. I can't have those AIs until my ovaries are gone which is a good reason why I want to do it. He did a very thorough exam and after being worried that he felt something that shouldn't be there on my right side under side, he said I was fine.

So I leave and get in the car. I want to sit and cry like I always do but I didn't. I kind of wish he would be a little more ...something. I don't know what. Maybe not take things so laid back and act like things are no big deal. But then, I think of stuff like this 24/7 and he doesn't. I shouldn't expect him to act the same way.

I have my visit with Dr. Forsythe tomorrow. She's the gyno surgeon that will help me make the right choice on whether to do the hysterectomy or the ooph. I'd be fine with the hysterectomy, but it means more money, more time of dh being out of work, and me being more away from my babies. But for me personally, I'd rather do it and get every last bit of female parts out of me. But I can't do things out of fear.

Surgery in my future

I have a couple of appointments coming up next week. I see my oncologist for a 6 month check up on Monday and I see the gynocologist surgeon on Thursday. I had another period that was a normal one for once. Not too incredibly heavy or anything. I never know how it's going to be but I always prepare for the worst just to be on the safe side. In the midst of it, I got fed up. I got my courage up and called the surgeon and said that I wanted to schedule a time to do an oopherectomy. Doing this would take out my ovaries and I wouldn't be taking tamoxifen anymore. It would also put me into permanent menopause and I would start taking different cancer drugs, potentially better than what I was taking before.

The surgeon's office put a potential sugery date of June 9th down. Then they called back and want me to come talk with the doctor before hand so she can get reaquainted with me and talk with her and make sure that's what I want to do. So there is the slight possibility this could turn into a hysterectomy, but I'm not thinking so.

I have many reasons for wanting this surgery. I want to prevent every bit of estrogen from having a chance to give me cancer. I want to never have to deal with wondering if this month's period is going to be a heavy nasty disaster or a normal one. I can handle the hot flashes and what comes with that, I've done it before, doing it again is no big deal. I don't want to have to go to the doctor's office to have a biopsy wondering if cancer has come back in a different area.

Mostly I'm scared of cancer again. I know I can handle it. But I've seen my friends on support boards get cancer again, either a recurrence or it appears somewhere else. Not everyone makes it and it's so damn hard to watch a friend die. That happened recently with two lovely wonderful ladies with little children. Those children will not have their mothers around and may not even remember them. I don't want that to happen to my children. I want to be around forever and drive them crazy. So I guess you could say it's selfish reasons that I want it. I'm scared and I don't want to deal with periods.

But I see my oncologist on Monday and let him know what is going on and get his opinons. My surgeon said she would do whatever I wanted. I just hope it all works out.

I'm getting the itch for reconstruction again

I have a friend named Jen on the YSC bulletin board that just had a DIEP flap reconstruction. She lives in Idaho but no one there does that type of surgery. She had family in Portland where I live, but no one here does it either. She went to a Dr. Isik at Swedish Hospital in Seattle to have it done. She had it on 4/21 and got home in the last couple of days. She entered the hospital on a Monday and left to go to a rented apartment on Thursday. I think she was in that place for about a week recovering before she went home.

After hearing her story and hearing so many others doing this, I'm getting the desire to do this again. I want to be whole again! I want to have a womanly shape without having to strap it on. I love wearing V neck shirts, not deep V necks, but the normal kind. Can't do that now. I don't have a swimsuit to wear that supports a fake boob and I haven't had a new suit since I was married. Not getting one now. But anyways, I start listening to her story and I asked her a bunch of questions. I wanted to know if it hurt, how could she stay away from her kids, who stayed with her, where did she go after surgery, etc.

This surgery is not just about me. If I did this, I would have to be gone from my children. There is no one in Portland that does this type of surgery. I know that person in Seattle does it, a lady from the breast cancer conference in San Francisco does it, NOLA does it in Louisiana. My ideal is to go to Seattle since I have heard so much about this doctor and have the chance to meet some ladies from both the YSC board and also from my private church mom's board. Plus, it's closer than anybody else.

I started dreaming about it and allowed myself to get excited. I even did something totally stupid. I called my mom and round about asked if she would come to Seattle to be with me when I had the surgery. Bad idea. It didn't go well. She said she would support me, but she doesn't think I should do it. Not really. She has too many worries here to deal with being with me. I know that, but dang it, it really hurt. I don't want to ask my dh because I want a parent here with the children so they wouldn't be scared or worried, and I think he would be bored. Plus, I saw him cleaning me up after my surgery and how much he didn't want to and he looked like he was going to throw up. I don't want that again. Anyways, I felt hurt that if I did this, my mom really didn't think it was a good idea and couldn't really be there for me. It was like a major pop to my balloon in a sense.

I must be pmsing, because I just bawled after I got off the phone with her. She says she can't be away that long from my grandma that has medical issues, I get that. She says she would have to come down and check on her and back up, etc. But I have to say I'm jealous and wanted my mommy. But then I just remembered, she just got back from a trip to see my sister and her kids in Idaho and she managed to be gone over a week and didn't have to come check on my grandma once. Is it priorities or is it she doesn't fully agree with my surgery and therefore it's easier to refuse to help? I don't know, but yeah, I'm jealous of wanting her attention.

Then reality sinks in. There's a good chance the surgeons I want don't take my insurance, I'd be away from my babies too long, I'm more scared of surgery now, someone would have to keep the girls, dh would have to work, take care of the girls, etc., and finances. So that brief little flicker or excitement is gone. It would be so exciting, but I have to face the facts that I'm not likely to be able to have this surgery. It breaks my heart, again to know it won't happen. Every time I get excited, then I realize that it won't happen, and I bawl all over again. Like I'm doing now.

For those who don't know what a DIEP flap is, here's a link: http://www.breastcancer.org/dictionary/d/deepinferiorepigastricperforatortissueflap_t.jsp

Brain MRI results

Before I went to the ER last week, my doctor wanted me to have an MRI. She wasn't sure what was causing my headaches but wanted to be on the safe side. So I finally go in for it and as I'm getting up off the table, I get the results. Once the test was over, I stayed on the table for a few minutes while they checked the results and called my doctor. She called me and let me know everything was fine and it probably is just stress. I'm very grateful to know everything is fine. But I sat in the car and started to cry afterwards. You get yourself so worked up to prepare yourself in case anything is wrong, you try to expect it so it won't hurt when you get the news, and then you hear you're fine. But I'm also still upset and worried that all they can tell me is that it's probably "just stress". Why all of a sudden is it hitting me? I've had stress for the last two years and never had them before now. My doctor then proceeds to tell me that I should go have more dates with my husband. Oh, okay, THAT'S going to make it all better. Why didn't I think of that before?

Also, just because I like to keep track of things, I had migraines Wednesday and Thursday. Thank goodness the Midrin kicked in once I got that stinking visual aura.

Almost another trip to the ER

We wanted to clean and change the girls room around. Unload the bunkbeds and keep them seperate. Their room is hard to manage, so it was tricky. Anyways, I was unscrewing the side rails from the top bunk. First three sides were fine and then the last screw on the last side was stuck a bit, so I reached inside on the bottom and helped it along. Bad idea. when it finally got loose, the rail fell and smashed into my finger. I screamed pretty good and grabbed my finger and said a few things I maybe shouldn't have. Oh my heck, it hurt so bad. I finally let go of my finger to see a bunch of blood. Great. I run to the bathroom and start cleaning it off. At first I couldn't see where the main owie was. All I could think of was I really didn't want to have stitches and go to the ER AGAIN. Just my luck. I was bawling and so upset with myself for being so dumb, I was crying from the day before and all that went with going to the ER, and also because it hurt so dang bad. It's been a really emotional couple of days.

Turns out I just gouged myself pretty deep and tore off a bunch of skin and didn't need stitches. It throbbed really bad for a long time though. My father in law had to come over and help move the beds around because I hurt myself. Plus, not being 6 weeks out from my other surgery, it wouldn't have been wise to help move the top bunk. I felt humiliated. When my inlaws came to take L the day before, I am probably imagining it, but I felt like they thought I was faking it and I could just feel contempt from them. I hadn't planned on going to the ER. I was freaked out into it and I shouldn't have called dh from work. He immediately dropped everything and ran home. I was glad for the company but I didn't feel it was an emergency and I most definitely didn't want to go to the hospital.

After we got home, dh talked to me. He didn't like having to leave work the way he did just to find out it was a migraine. (like I said it was, but nobody believed me) Naturally I felt like crap and guilty like I had planned the whole thing. I was also mad. No one believed me! Now I have even more stress than was on me than before. I can't seem to win.

That's a big reason why I was crying yesterday when I hurt my finger. A lot of it was pain, but mostly a release from all the pressure and emotion from the day before. I still feel it, but now that I've cried, it's easier to handle. On to another day.

Yet another ER trip

I'm home from the longest ER visit I've ever been on. I guess I'm lucky. I've only had to go to the ER in the evening or middle of the night, never right smack in the middle of the day.

I got another migraine today. Started with the same vision aura as the ER doc calls it. Then it proceeded to bad headache. Anyways, when the vision thing started, I called my doctor I saw yesterday. Left a message for them. Tried not to freak out again. The doctor's assistant calls back and tells me if I feel bad enough and if I need to, to go to the ER. So I call Jason in a panic and tell him I just have another headache and that my doctor wants me to go to the ER. He hangs up and tells work he is leaving.

I get L taken to my inlaw's house. Jason comes home. In between that time, my doctor calls again and tells me to call 911 and have an ambulance come and get me and take me in. They are scaring me to death! It's a stupid headache and they are scaring me into thinking it's something way worse and deadly. Jason gets home and after the bread comes out of the bread machine, we head to SWMC and the ER. I didn't know I would be having problems and started a loaf of bread and I refused to leave until it was out. Priorities, I tell ya. Anyways, I took two Vicodin thinking that would help with the pain. It didn't touch it. Made me all floaty and a tad loopy after awhile. I also got really sick to my stomach, shaky, and freezing cold. Thank heavens for my Warrior hoodie. I stayed in that thing all day. I love it and it's falling apart.

So we get to the ER and I think from past experience that I will be called back fairly quickly. Nope. Over two hours later they finally call me back. After talking to the nurse, eventually the doctor comes in. Imagine Barbie and Ken dolls. Now think of Ken as Dr. Ken and you get my doctor. Way too much tanning and blond hair and blue eyes. I had to almost bite my lip to stop myself from asking where Barbie was. He said it's probably migraines and would do a CT scan to be safe since they couldn't give me an MRI. Don't know why, but they wouldn't. The scan was fine, I got a funky shot of Imitrex in my arm and eventually went home. That shot was really really weird. I don't recommend it.

I have a prescription for Midrin and Jason went to go pick up the kids and the meds so in case this happens again, I hurry and pop one of those pills and it helps right away to lessen the headache. So long story short, I had a headache, it was JUST a headache, but all doctors panic now and I end up with yet another ER visit and bill. Great. Just what your zero bank account can handle. I wish they hadn't freaked me out so bad and I would have stayed home and been fine. I feel like such a loser and phony.

My doctor says I'm weird

Whatever. Or maybe it was the doctor's assistant that called me back yesterday. Anyways, I've noticed that my doctors handle me with kid gloves now. I sneeze and automatically they think the worst now. But I'd rather they do that then ignore my concerns and various problems that have come up. I'm glad someone paid attention when I went to the ER last month. I'm glad I didn't waste anyone's time either.

So when I started getting bizarre headaches and vision problems, they take me seriously. Instead of just being told over the phone that I might have a migraine, they want me to come in, just in case. So I made a doctor's appointment for this afternoon and I go in. I guessed it was a migraine and it very well could be. The doctor accounts it to stress. You think so? So much stuff is going on, too much to write down. Hell yes I'm stressed!! She gives me two lidoderm patches and puts one on me right away across the back of my neck. It almost instantly numbs it and I don't feel all that tension bunching up in my neck and shoulders.

Oh yeah, when I get in the room, they want to check my blood sugar levels. My kids were watching while sitting up on the examing table. I look over during the middle of the blood draw and they have their hands covering their eyes so they can't see anything. I don't know why, but it just struck me as the most hilarious thing in the world.

Then, just to be "on the safe side", she schedules me for a brain MRI. Great. Jason was worried last night half joking that my headaches might be a brain tumor. I don't want to have to tell him that I have to have my brain looked at for real. Just what we need. Think good thoughts for next Tuesday morning!

When the poop hits the fan...

It makes me love this quote even more

"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." ~Dr. Seuss

What I'm good at

I wrote this on a bb about a week ago. I wanted to remember it, so I'm posting it here. Just one of those times when you realize what you're good at, no matter what it is.

I'm the one that's always home with the kids and dh gets to be the ones the girls run to when he gets home. He's the bright spot to them and makes their day. L even calls him her "darling". That always bugs me. I want to be the one that they like and want to do things with. It hurts my feelings that they don't get all excited over me.

Then my baby get sick. Who's name does she call in the middle of the night? Mine. Who does she want to take care of her? Me. I clean up the throw up, I change her nightie, I sleep with her with bucket in hand just in case, I hold her sick little body when she's hurting, etc. I find that I don't mind it so much. I like it. I like being the one my babies yell for in the middle of the night. I'm the one that can fix the owies, wipe the tears, and make things all better. The best thing? After my dd had a bad day yesterday and I had just cleaned her up and cuddled her up on the couch, she tells me, "you're the best mom ever". I can live off of that for a week. I find that I'm good at the nurse/mom thing. I'm at my best. I can handle the puke, the grubbies, the cleaning up, the tears, the hot foreheads, the sickies, etc. I love to be wanted and I know they will remember that when it's important.

They can have their daddy in the good times, because I know when they really need me, it's going to be "Mom!!" they yell in the night when it really counts. So it's not really fair. Daddy gets the good times, I get the others. But in the end for me, it took my babies being sick for me to realize my potential and where I'm best at.

Waiting

I don't know what I'm waiting for though. We had a semi good day yesterday. I was in a good mood and it's like I'm now waiting. Whether it's waiting for the other shoe to drop and the day won't be as good as it started out or something, I don't know. I hate that! It's like something isn't complete but I don't know what it is that I'm trying to finish or complete.

Good news, I think. We got some bills recently in the mail concerning my surgery last month. I've been feeling terrible about having the surgery. I could have said no, I could have gone home from the hospital and not had anything done. I could very well not had another gallbladder attack. But for some reason, we chose to go to SWMC and not Adventist hospital just down the street. No, we crossed the river and went to Vancouver. It just felt better. Anyways, we did it anyways and I've been under a lot of stress thinking of the thousands of dollars in debt we would be because of the "impulsive" decision to just go ahead and do it. We got the initial bill from the hospital before insurance got to it. I felt so bad. It really was thousands of dollars. I figured we would pay a healthy portion of it.

We just got our insurance papers regarding my surgery. If I read this right, and I think I am, we will pay only about $100. We paid a copay of $75 when we got to the ER and then this $100 that insurance isn't covering. I want to believe it, but it just doesn't seem possible that it could be that easy. I cried when I figured it out and I still want to. I don't believe it. How could we get off that easy?

Another rough time

All I seem to do is whine on here. I usually do pretty well but when I'm struggling, I bring it here, get it out, and I'm okay with things after this in my life. It's like purging the bad stuff out. So although it may seem that all I do is complain or say things are bad, they normally aren't. It's the one time in a thousand that something is bad.

I'm so low in spirit. I belong to a group where there are a ton of women. Normally we get along great. There was a situation recently that has helped me realize that I may open my mouth too much and what I mean to say gets construed differently than I mean it to be. So to make things right, I have to not make my feelings known and cover it up and do what ever it takes to smooth things over. In the meantime, I'm feeling incredibly hurt and my feelings aren't taken into account or anything. It really bothers me but there aren't a lot of places for me to go to get friends so I take what I can get. I'm going to keep my mouth shut about my personal life from now on. I'm not going to ask for support or understanding because I don't want to get hurt or get someone upset at me because I'm whining or they are sick of me.

I really have some problems. I struggle making friends and keeping them. Two years ago today I had a mastectomy and ever since then I've changed. Some things for the good, a lot for the bad. I've become even more introverted and shy and it's so hard to talk on the phone or make good friends. I'm great at covering up but it's so true. I'm so lonely! I have experienced something so big that it's hard to not have that affect the friendships I have. I've lost my two good friends over it and no one has been able to take their place. It's easy to say that life gets in the way, because it does. But these two ladies were so important to me. It just goes to show who can handle things and who really can be friends when push comes to shove.

I hate talking on the phone and don't know what to say. Being online is so much better. I can be how I want to be but can't express it on the phone. I feel like an idiot on the phone and procrastinate making calls as much as possible. I'm so tired of being hurt by people that I don't try anymore. I see some wonderful ladies in my ward but I'm too scared and shy to talk to them! What the heck would I have in common with them? I'm not successful, I didn't go to college and graduate, I'm not well spoken, I'm a terrible wife and mother and would never know how to make bread or do anything domestically that so many seem to be able to do. I have a stinking 800 foot apartment that I can't keep clean. I know I have lots to do, but I just feel like I cant' do anything. I don't know where to start. Or I do, but it's almost like a physical block stopping me from doing it. Then I hate how it looks and so on and it's just some stupid cycle.

I don't have good female friends in person and the ones I have online make me worry that I'm bothering them too much. I have lost 2 ladies on my breast cancer board within the last month and it's killing me. My good buddy from chemo is going through more treatments. My anniversaries are this week of being diagnosed with cancer and having my first surgery involved with it. I still don't have a job after being laid off in January, unexpected surgery last month, bills from that, bills from the dentist, rent being raised, no money for it, stupid lice problems AGAIN, our car just got fixed and it's making more horrible noises, etc. I just don't see a way out and I feel responsible for all the problems even though it's not all my fault. I can't explain it, but I feel it's all my doing that has brought this on our family.

Maybe I should up those depression pills. Or see someone or something. I just want one good friend that isn't going to desert me again. I'm so terribly lonely.

last of the surgery update

Life sure has a way of messing things up. I kept meaning to come back and finish my blog entry about my surgery but things happened and I slacked off. I try to write out everything because I don't want to forget a thing for future reference. I wish I had done this sooner.

I get back to my room and Jason was there. I knew it would be an easier recovery because I know I went in at 1:30pm and I was back in my room at 4:30pm or close to it. It felt wonderful and I was more with it than any other surgery. I started my favorite post surgery cocktail of Sierra Mist and cranberry juice. I was scared I would throw up so I didnt want to eat for a while. Eventually I had to force myself to eat something and they brought me graham crackers. It was like the heavens opened up. That graham cracker was the best thing on earth! Holy cow. I couldn't get enough of it. I had my little pitcher of ice water, my cocktail, and graham crackers. Life didn't get much better than that. I don't remember if I had dinner that night or not. But Jason was with me for awhile and then my mom.

I had this great TV that came down from behind me and was a flat screen and I could move it around and have it close to my face or far away. It even had the good cable channels. I could hardly wait to see the Food Network or HGTV. But they kept me on Heparin and some meds that started with a T that I can't remember the name of. Plus I'm sure they gave me Vicodin there too. So with all the lovely post meds, I couldn't keep my eyes open for the life of me. Grrrr. I do remember watching most of one show about cheesecakes in NYC. I had th cuffs on my legs that "massaged" my legs. One would go off and then the other. They couldn't do it both at the same time. As soon as one finished the other one was close behind. They gave me the Heparin because now that I've had cancer, I'm more at risk for blood clots and they had to give me that shot in my stomach every few hours or so. Every time I had to go to the bathroom, I would have to call a nurse in to get the cuffs off my legs and help me up. I shouldn't have had so many of those "cocktails" cause I swear once it kicked in, I was peeing every 20 minutes for half the night. That night nurse deserves a medal.

All in all, it wasn't too terrible. I'm glad I went to the hospital I did. It was very close for my parents to go to and all of my doctors work through there anyways. My records were there. Plus, quite selfishly, I was in an area of the hospital that was remodeled and looked really nice and not so old and blech. I got zero sleep during the night between the constant peeing, the pressure cuffs going off, the stupid CNA that decided in the middle of the night to come and clean out my garbages. By the way, I don't care who you are, having someone keep track of how much you urinate is really humiliating.

I missed my babies and couldn't wait to go home in the morning. My mom brought me some silky jammies because I couldn't wear my jeans home. I had 4 incisions and the biggest one was right at my belly button. It's nearly two weeks later and it just now is okay for me to button my jeans at the top and not have it be sore. I was hunched over for awhile and had trouble hauling my butt out of bed or in and out of my lazy-boy recliner. Other than that, life is good. No problems at my post op doctor visit and he sent me on my way.

The emotional stuff is still hard. We just got the bill for the surgery and there's no way in hell that we can afford to pay for any of it. I just stick my head in the sand and ignore everything. It hurts to much to face reality anymore.

I'm struggling again

Another friend has died of breast cancer. I never met her, but I know her from my breast cancer support group. I can't stop bawling. Another young mother dies of breast cancer and her child will never have their mother again. Why am I one of the lucky ones? So far? Would my kids remember me if I I died? Would they cry for me? This is so raw and I don't expect anyone to understand. I have another friend on this board that is dealing with her own battle and questions why should SHE fight? These other ladies did and look where they are now. How do you tell someone to keep the faith and fight no matter what?

I hear this song and it's breaking my heart again. It's called Falling Slowly and it won best Oscar for Song of the Year. It's so beautiful and simple. I wish I could get it to show up on here so you can hear it. But these are the lyrics.

"Falling Slowly"

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You've made it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody I'll sing along

Full surgery story

I'm still in plenty of pain, but nothing that I haven't had before with csections.

I woke up very early Tuesday morning with a little girl that couldn't go to sleep. So dh got up with her and went and helped her lay down. He stayed there for a while and came back to sleep around 2am. I was half awake and a little while later, I felt a really funny feeling in my chest area and lungs. I couldn't breathe right and didn't know if it was some weird anxiety thing or if it was indigestion or something like that. So I sat up and it slowed down so I tried to lay down again. It came back and it was worse. It was at the base of my ribs, just underneath the tip of them. I didn't know if it was my heart or what. I couldn't talk without wheezing and naturally when I told the doctor on the nurseline for my doctor's office, they said to immediately go in to the ER. My inlaws came over and stayed while dh drove me to Vancouver to SWMC. Adventist is down the street but we haven't felt completely comfortable there before. Honestly, it was closer to my family and if anything was wrong, I'd rather be closer to them. I was feeling fine and kind of bothered that Jason wouldn't let me drive myself there. I felt like a big fraud and had nothing wrong with me since the pain went away.

We got to the ER around 3am and soon enough I was back in a room. They tried to stick me with a needle to get bloodwork and the first time, the vein slipped away and digging for it didn't seem to help. Same with the second time. The third time they did it in my hand and that hurt like nothing else. So much burning! Anyways, they got their blood after digging in my hand for it like the other two times. I ended up having to be taken for a chest xray, ultrasound, and more bloodwork.

I was joking with them that I knew it was for nothing and probably just an anxiety attack. They said they wanted to be careful and not miss anything. Guess having cancer before makes my doctors cautious. They don't want to miss a thing. Dr. Shotness came in and told me it could be gallstones and possibly my gallbladder was inflamed. My pancreas enzymes were elevated but my liver was fine. The surgeon was on the fence about me doing it that day. But Jason and I both agreed that since he was on vacation, C was on sprink break, that it was a good time to do it. So they immediately found me a bed upstairs and within an hour, I was admitted to have my gallbladder taken out.

It was a nice cozy little room in a remolded area of the hospital and thank heavens, it was all to myself. I didn't know when my surgery was going to happen, it depended on the surgeon's schedule. He came up and visited with me and said he would fit me in when he could and it probably wouldn't happen till late afternoon or evening. Bishop Peacock was working in Vancouver, so we snagged him on lunch break and he came and helped give me a blessing.

Around 12:30pm or so, we get word that they had an open spot on the schedule and would take me in. I was so pleased! I was bored, starving, and I hated waiting. Turns out another surgeon had some free time and would do the surgery instead of Dr. Dally like we thought. Worked out even better, it was Dr. Kilway, the surgeon who diagnosed me with cancer and did my mastectomy. I was happy to see him and he answered every question Jason and I had about the surgery. I remember getting some calming down drugs before going into the OR because I knew my anxiety level was through the roof. That helped a lot. I got in the OR around 1:20pm and I didn't remember anything else until I woke up in recovery. It was hard to swallow then, like my throat was paralyzed halfway. Normal stuff.

Usually I struggle to keep my eyes open after waking up. After about 15 minutes, I was much better and could work to keep them from dropping all the time like before. I could feel that it was an easier recovery. Jason was waiting for me in my room and he stayed with me for awhile after that. So I was grateful for that. I was worried about the girls, but in the morning time when I was waiting for a room upstairs, he had gone home and taken the girls and his mom to her house so that they were taken care of all day.

Holy crap, I'm starting to hurt. I'm off to lay down.

I had surgery yesterday; competely unexpected

I came home today and the shoulder pain is incredibly bad. Of course it happened after I left the hospital.

Anyways, I'm hurting right now, and I won't be on long. I went to the ER around 3amish Tuesday morning. I woke up not being able to breathe very well and it felt like I had something sitting on the lower part of my chest. It came and went 3 times getting less painful or intense each time. I was really scared to go to sleep and I was privately worried I had some type of heart problem. I was sure I would be told I just had an anxiety attack or indigestion and it would be a waste of time. Nope, turns out I had gallstones and my gallbladder was inflamed. I guess they had been there awhile and never gave me any pain before.

More to the story, but right now my neck and shoulder hurt so bad it's hard to sit here upright. Jason took me to SWMC in Vancouver since all my doctors are there and I've had all my other previous surgeries there. I just felt more comfortable there. They treated me so well and plus, it was closer to my parents. More later. I went in at 3am Tuesday morning, had surgery by 1:30pm, came home around 11:30am on Wednesday morning.

Breast cancer sucks!

I'm mad and angry and want to scream and I want to sit down and cry. I mostly want to do the crying part. I hate breast cancer and I especially hate it for the younger women who get it who have children and babies and these kids could potentially never know their moms because this horrible gosh awful SHITTY disease is killing them. I'm on a bulletin board with the Young Survival Coalition and there is a wonderful kind smart sassy woman on there dying of breast cancer. She has just DAYS to live. She wrote a post awhile ago to comfort the new women that were coming there and scared. Her screen name is Mama Cathy and even though she is about the same age as I am, it felt like she was a mama to so many of us. This is what she wrote and I doubt she ever thought it would be about her.

Mama Cathy, I love you to pieces. You are so loved by the women of the YSC boar. Words fail me to describe how you mean to us and what you have done for so many women.

It's happening again.

Every once in a while the board goes through a really tough time. Our hearts break for our sisters whose cancers are spreading at frightening rates. We see their selfless, innocent posts that detail the cancer taking over. How they feel, what they're thinking. What they need. The struggle, the powelessness, the strength and courage.

I just wanted to pull all you newbies in close and let you know that we've all been there and you are probably absolutely freaking out right now. Chemo has beaten you up, you feel like a shadow of who you used to be. Tired, depressed and overwhlemed. You may even feel guilty because you are not only sad for these beautiful women, but you are sad FOR YOU.

You see yourself in every one of these women that becomes so very sick and then loses the battle.It's normal to feel this way and it's OK. We understand and so do they. Your mother may not, your husband may not. your friends may not, but we do.And there's nothing wrong with feeling sad and getting angry.

But please remember that the odds are that YOU are going to get better. YOU are going to get your hair back and start to feel well again. YOU are going to get back to the life that you want to lead.

So if you are checking the boards incessently right now, reading the latest post, then sobbing and then going back for more.....been there too. You are grieving....this disease is not fair....it's disgusting and ugly and perverse. And it's so much more unfair to certain sisters than others. And there's nothing fair about that.So grieve for them. Grieve for you. And then remember that you will get better.

Love,cathy

Add another doctor to the list

I'm going to a chiropractor now. I've seen him before and it didn't last long. My insurance will only pay for so much. And also, my frontal area couldn't handle being face down while someone puts a knee in my back. It was just too tender and plus all the drugs I had during my cancer fun masked a lot of the symptoms.

I've had lower back pain off and on for many years. I even had xrays done last year because it was still bothering me. Naturally after you get cancer, any ache and pain means major testing. They said it was nothing and I let it go. Still bothered me, but since it didn't show anything and the doctors didn't take it seriously, there was little I could do.

So I finally go to the chiropractor last week. The lowest two vertebra, L4 and L5 are kind of crunched together in a weird triangular shape in connection with my right hip. It's caused my right leg to be a bit shorter and it hurts my lower back and it sucks. The doc said that in that little area inside, if you looked, you would see that it's red and swollen in there from being put in that position for so long. He wants to do 3 months of treatments and exercises. I can do the exercises fine, they cost nothing. My insurance will only cover 2 weeks of twice weekly visits.

The first visit was fine. I go there, lay face down and he puts electrodes on my right lower back and hip area and a heating pad on top of that. It felt wonderful. Then the sadistic monster adjusts my back and it hurt worse than ever until the next visit. I made sure he knew it too. He just said that my back is resistent to change since it's been seized up like that for years. The next two visits including the one today were not too bad at all. My back hurts a bit less, but then I haven't done anything really strenuous either, so who knows if it's really healing or not.

Just cause I'm being a dork

I was trying to see if I could take a decent picture of myself. As you can tell, it didn't turn out well. Actually, I look and feel like this when I'm stressed out and not handling life well.