In Retrospect Everything Moves Too Rapidly

Today is a rather slowly moving day, a little pleasanter weather-wise than yesterday, but still not quite the Spring weather hoped for and anticipated. It is a good day to pause and reflect here on my blog. It is also a good day to give myself a kick in the seat of my pants and make sure I do not waste another day in sulking and self-pity, which were my party companions of yesterday whether I realized I had invited them or not. I may manage to be a more cheerful person most of the time with others, but left to my own devices under these circumstances I find myself just sitting and doing a lot of nothing. Maybe this is usual for people when they are dealing with the issues I am currently facing and it is not an unusual state for me when faced with an overwhelming amount of stuff to get done or cope with, I just sort of wish I had the get up and go to manage myself a little differently during these crisis moments. At the very least I would get more accomplished around the house.

Be that the case or otherwise, it occurs to me a lot has taken place since the last time I blogged about the breast cancer issue. The entire question of losing both of my breasts at once and being left entirely flat chested was really beginning to weigh on my mind to the extent it was keeping me up until the very early morning hours. I realized that, for me, I would need some sort of reconstructive or plastic surgery in order not to be completely thrown off balance by the state of my body following the surgery. Due to my weight issues the only type of "reconstruction" viable for me is implants, so I will have to go flat for a while during the healing process as it will take time to stretch the skin in the appropriate areas in order to accommodate the implants, etc. I never realized how connected my self-image was to my body until I had to face these issues head on. I respect the decisions of those women who have chosen to remain without breasts (*see breastfree.org) and am very grateful for their courage and compassion in allowing themselves to be photographed so others in similar situations will know what to expect, but I am so used to having an ample bosom I was really not able to wrap my mind around having no bosom at all following all of this, so I am seeing the plastic surgeon for a consult in a few days.

I do not want breasts as large as what nature provided me with again, but something more esthetically pleasing and physically manageable will be very welcome to me. I am also not interested in the more extensive proceedures now in use for reconstructing breasts in which abdominal, or other, body fat and muscle tissues are utilized, especially not after seeing some of the pictures available that show the scarring of other areas of their bodies some women are willing to incur in order to have breasts again. I do not feel that I could face that kind of disfigurement to another part of my body for the sake of breasts, nor do I want to compromise the function of the muscles in my abdomen, back or behind for the same reason when implants appear to provide a reasonable result with no additional scarring elsewhere. I do find myself more interested in saline implants as opposed to silicone, though, and hope the surgeon agrees with my choice.

If anyone is interested in seeing any of what I have seen they can go to the website listed in the prior paragraph or enter "breast implants following mastectomies" in a Google image search which produced, at the time, 20,400 hits of photos and other images to wade through, some very graphic and tragic, others very helpful, and many totally useless. Someone has even created a comic book explaining cancer treatments, but I did not look at it too closely and so cannot comment upon its information.

In all of this I feel very fortunate to have friends and family members who are willing to accompany me to various appointments because, whether it shows or not, I am not having an easy time dealing with all of this and have spent the better part of the past two days trying to avoid dealing mentally with the issues at all. Today I am a little more able to pick up the pieces and proceed on a more rational level with my life so I figure that I must have needed the break. Later today I will try to get out of the house, tend to some housework after I get home, and just generally face the normal and everyday with a little more fortitude than I have had the past two days. I may even be able to slip in a short nap without compromising my resolve, as well. It should be a better day all around.

**Later in the day, following the aforementioned nap and upon awakening, I thought of something I would like to do. In this blog I can only tell my own story. I can also briefly mention the stories of those closest to me such as my three aunts, two of whom, my father's younger sisters, are breast cancer survivors, and one aunt by marriage who is suffering through Inflammatory Breast Cancer with "suffering" being the key word. The reason I hesitate to mention others here is because I do not know if it will be OK with them, how much to mention will be OK, etc. Basically, I need their direct permission to tell their stories from my perspective. These are three women who I have known my entire life and love; one is somewhat distant and wrapped up in her own set of troubles, one has been very forthcoming with her offerings of counsel to me on the questions I have had regarding what I am currently going through and also has a daughter with the same genetic mutation I have, and the third is dying bravely from a form of breast cancer few have heard of and few are that familiar with but that insidiously claims the lives of both young and old. I would like to try to tell some of their stories, as well as others and create a medium that could allow others to tell their own stories as well. We would be "A Thousand Voices Singing."

My sincerest hopes and prayers for anyone reading this is that life is not coming at you as hard and fast at it seems to come at us and that, if it is, you at least have the support we have for yourself and your loved ones. Blessings on all who may venture this far into cyberspace.

With Much Love,
Izzlebug

Am I Too Graphic Here?

I honestly do not know how many people may be reading any of my blog as no one has commented or emailed me about it, so I have no criticisms to help me determine whether I am getting too "adult" here, or not. My goals are to be as honest as possible in the hopes that it might be of some help or encouragement somehow to other people experiencing similar or multiple difficulties in their lives and to help me cope in my own. I apologize if anything I have written, or may write, sparks uncomfortable questions to parents or educators but I hope there are enough redeeming qualities to my ramblings that those questions are worth the time and patience for direct and honest answers.

Last night, after I posted here, I had a bit of a weep and then headed to bed. During the night I had some very strange and disconnected dreams but it is likely that speaking to a surgeon, a chemotherapy specialist, a radiation oncologist, and the many others associated with the processes involved in losing body parts to, and then treating, cancer over a four to five hour span of time in a single afternoon may tend to have that effect. At least I slept.

Because of my family's familiarity with the entire breast cancer issue I have not had to deal with feelings of things being surreal so much as just feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the news and the pace so far. But, for now, the tests - except for preadmission stuff - are done and I should have a couple of weeks, if not longer, in which to accomplish a few things that will hopefully make my recovery a little simpler. It is a blessing and a tragedy that I have so many people related to me I can turn to for comfort, information, and other forms of emotional support, but I am well supplied on those fronts. I am, very definitely, not alone in my struggles here. If wishing the same thing for everyone else going through such things were not such a double-edged sword, I would feel that we have something very special going on here, but at far too high a price.

Today is a new day, cold but bright, and I am going to go out and try to focus on other things for awhile. Errands of the day are minor but will still serve to distract and help keep me busy for a short time before I must return home and again deal with the near and looming future. Two other things that have also been playing themselves out during the past couple of weeks as well have been the hospitalizations of my 91 year old grandmother and my mentally ill younger brother. Both events were neither unexpected or particularly unusual given the age and conditions of these two VIPs in my life, just really badly timed, or maybe it was the news of my breast cancer that was so ill-timed: tomato, potato, etc.

On other fronts, I read of the tragic death of Sylvia Plath's son. I wish I could have somehow reached out and given him some grit or some hope. Just enough to get him through until the sun could shine on him again and a friend could call to say "Hello" and talk for awhile. Maybe then he would have changed his mind about wanting to die in the way he chose, taking his life as if it were worth nothing to anyone except himself. I hope that there has at least been some healing in the hereafter and that his mother and father were there to catch him as he fell.

I have also been seeing the news of the plane crashes costing children and entire families their lives, the multiple killings of police officers in California, the results of the now blatantly obvious greed of the AIG executives, and on and on and on. I have enough to deal with which is why I pick and choose and comment on very little else. I hope it is understood that I am trying to stay in touch, but being emotionally overwhelmed is becoming such a regular part of my everyday experience I am getting used to the refreshing little naps I take to recooperate and am afraid I may not be able to give them up when the are no longer required. I am, afterall, not in my dotage yet.

So, in a blatant rip-off of more talented poets than myself:

Blessings on the world at large
From mogul's palace
To garbage barge
May your days be bright and merry
And your future not so scary.

Love,
Izzlebug

Decisions, Decisions

Since this past Wednesday it seems as if so much has gone on. I have also been feeling quite overwhelmed by the news of my having breast cancer and all that attends that in addition to all of the other things life has sent in our family's direction over the past couple of weeks. Today was the big meeting day with all of the doctors who will, or may, play pivotal roles in my treament and recovery. I'm exhausted yet restless enough that I am typing here on my blog rather than sleeping.

Since the issue of breast cancer and its many and varied treatments, etc. has been at the forefront of our family conciousness in many ways for the past several years, I have had more time than most to think about the potential issues involved in choosing which of the different potential approaches available would be best for me and why. Although I could have chosen to have a lumpectomy and a sentinal lymph node biopsy only, because of the presence of the mutated gene which I inherited, I have chosen instead to go ahead with mastectomies, which will leave me flat-chested for the first time since I was nine years old, but more symetrical (esthetics do come into this somewhat), and far less likely to ever develop breast cancer again although there is still a small possibility of it recurring because there is no way to know absolutely that every last cell of breast tissue has been removed. So, sometime within the next two to five or six weeks, I will be undergoing the surgery to relieve me of the cancer and both of my breasts. I'm not too sure how I am going to feel the first time I look down and see I no longer have my breasts, but I have a lot of very supportive people to help me through all of this and reconstruction is always a possibility later on, after I have had some recovery time and decided if I am more comfortable with or without breasts. It's kind of strange to be given a choice about something like this, but at least I have that choice which makes me feel a little better about going through the experience at all.

I have been composing a short poem to my boyfriend, who is being very supportive of my decision and this has helped me find the strength to make the choice that I believe is truly best for me in both the short and long term. It is untitled at present, but dedicated to Ross.

Things I know for certain I'll miss:
Your glance of pleasure,
Your tender, intimate kiss and
The trilling thrill of your caress
Upon my breasts.

We long ago survived our individual transitions
From single to monogamous.
I wonder how we'll handle those passions now
With my chest about to become
So egregiously non-erogenous?

Maybe I read too much Ogden Nash when I was younger. Oh, well.

I.

The Results Are In

The hospital called this morning with my test results from the biopsy. I have breast cancer. Monday is the day I meet with the surgeon, oncologist, etc. and find out what will be happening when and how, but for the moment, things are still relatively peaceful.

This Sunday afternoon, my stepmother will go with me up to Vermont so I can hug my aunt who is battling Inflammatory Breast Cancer, give my ninety-one year old grandmother who just went into a nursing home and has just gotten her first cell phone ever a kiss on the cheek, and visit my Mom and Pattys' grave. I will take some Forget-Me-Not seeds to sow in the cemetary around the headstone and try to visit as cheerfully as possible with Gram and Aunt Roberta. Maryellen is helping me take this time now because we just don't know what will be happening, or how fast it will happen, after Monday's appointments.

Dad, Maryellen, and Ross (hopefully) will all be with me for the afternoon on Monday and I am hoping they will think to ask the questions I may be too distracted to manage. Beyond that, as I look around me, the world is still spinning on its axis, the night winds are blowing their odd tunes through the branches of the trees, and the Spring season hovers enticingly on the edge of it all waiting for just the right moment to declare itself officially "here."

Elsewhere in the world another family is saying its goodbyes to their mother, wife, daughter, niece, sister, and friend, as Natasha Richardson is prepared for her funeral. Knowing how it feels to have to say such goodbyes, my heart goes out to all of them in the knowledge that no amount of money or fame can insulate us from the pain that comes at a time like this and that no amount of publicity can possibly bring the comfort we so long for in the shape of our loved one's face and smile, the touch of their hand, or the sound of their laughter, their voice, as they enter our minds and hearts for what we know can only be the few, and very briefest, of moments before time and memory begin to steal even that from us as we begin to heal and go on without them. At least, or perhaps it is more of a curse than otherwise, Natasha Richardson's family will always have her voice and face in the form of her films from her acting career, although her touch and love cannot be recorded and kept for posterity except in the hearts of those who knew her most intimately.

On my home front, my Dad suffers once again, worrying about another daughter who is facing a major health crisis such a short time after having lost my younger sister to leukemia. Mine is a very different situation and I try to remember to mention, reminding both Dad and myself, that with the exception of a very elderly aunt who stopped taking her Tamoxifen, the rest of our family members who have had to deal with the same type of cancer I am faced with right now are all still very much alive and cancer free, which I am hoping to be very soon. I also told him to spread the word that people were to feel free to go ahead and send me roses or money or jewelry or other stuff to help cheer me up if they were so inclined. It got a weak laugh from Dad (a VERY weak laugh), but at least it was a laugh. I know we both know very well that even though things like that are nice to have they cannot begin to take away the sting of having to face a disease like cancer in any of its many forms or of having to endure the rather harsh treatments so often necessary in order to eradicate it. I am just happy to have Dad and Maryellen and Ross to help me get through all of this, as well as my other sister and my friends. I have a lot to be grateful for and a lot to look forward to enjoying in life once all of the treatments have been completed. Right now, however, I will settle for this weekend and the anticipated advent of Spring.

Being Overweight Does Have Its Compensations...

especially when life decides to take several great big bites out of your backside, one right after another in quick succession! At least I still have something to sit upon.

After finally (mostly - still) recovering from the virus/pneumonia/stress test/car repairs/snow storm, and so on, I found out the little lump I could "still" feel in one of my female appurtenances from a prior biopsy (I thought) turned out to be something new and ominous rather than old and familiar. (sigh, sigh, sigh!) So now I and my loved ones are dealing with the stresses that attend such discoveries in that the surgeon who keeps track of these things in my case due to the inherited genetic predisposition for breast cancer (84% chance of getting it-not good odds) thinks it is likely cancer. At least it is not the same situation my poor sister had to face with the leukemia and, while certainly far from rosie, not as frightening as such a situation once was before medical science made many of its amazing breakthroughs.

There is still a lot of information yet to be gathered in my case. So far the only invasive procedure that has been carried out has been a fine-needle aspirate of the tumor, and those results, while not wholly conclusive, will be in on Monday. If they see cancer cells we will know for certain two weeks earlier than otherwise, but even if they don't see anything I will still need to have a needle biopsy in ten days which will be definitive. Oh, POOP!

Of course, given my family's history with such things first thoughts are far from cheerful and my own mortality, though not for the first time in my life, flashed before me as I wondered if this was going to end up being "it." At least there will be quite a bit of time between now and the arrival of "it" so there are things I can get done, but it's not much fun thinking in such terms just as you're beginning to hope your brief respite might last a little longer.

One thing I also realized is that I do not know if I have the inner strength and courage to chronicle my own illness here in my blog. During the course of my sisters battles it helped me to express myself here and it has helped me in my grieving process to be able to go back and reread what I recorded as we lived our lives and our relationship as sisters during that entire time. I just don't know if I can manage the same thing if it should turn out to be me who is doing the battling and dying, should that turn out to be the case. It is not what I am anticipating so much right now but, as I mentioned before, facing your own mortality is not something done in the most cheerful and positive frame of mind.