2nd Week - AC Treatment

 Day 9 since my 1st AC Treatment was much like Day 8. It was on Day 10 that I noticed a real difference. I was part way through the day when I realized what was different. I felt normal. I didn’t feel like I was living in some funky weird alternate reality. I suddenly had the brain power to start working on some science for the classroom. I had been wanting to clean-up, organize, and create a bunch of my digital science stuff, and I really wanted it ready for my new replacement teacher. I was able to get through two-thirds of the science stuff over the next few days. The final one-third will get completed during my next normal stage, or I may work on it here and there, I’m not sure, it all depends on how each day goes. 

Hair was continuing to fall out and shed everywhere. I’ve been joking with Brad about how I’m just going to “blow a coat” like animals do when the seasons change. I had been toying with the idea of a drastic haircut. I finally found an idea on-line and showed it to Brad. His response was something to the extent of “That’s cool” which was probably an exaggeration to make me feel better. I know he likes long hair, but he also knows what’s coming. So we decide that we will cut it on Day 14, right before my next Chemo Day. 

On Day 14, I really noticed an increase in hair loss. I keep picking it off of my shirt and finding it everywhere. It was crazy. Good thing we had decided to go with Phase 2 of my hair that night. Just to set the scene, I’ve been cutting Brad’s hair for years with our clippers. He has cut my hair before with scissors (I was between hair stylists for a little while). So for him to take clippers to my head was totally new for both or us. First, we laughed so much I’m surprised we didn’t have to shave my whole head. I also never realized that when you take clippers around someone's ears, it vibrates their eardrum and they feel in their throat. That was new! The really amazing thing about knowing you're going to lose your hair is, it really gives you some freedom to try crazy stuff you would never be brave enough to try otherwise. What’s the worst that will happen? If I hate it, we shave it all off. I mean, we all know it’s coming. So here’s the results of the Phase 2 haircut. FYI - we found out that I have a little heart shaped patch of pure white hair growing in the back of my head. Who knew? 

Day 1 of the 2nd chemo cycle. I was super excited to get the last remaining patch/bandage/steri-strips off from the port procedure I’d had 2 weeks before. It's been annoying that for two weeks I have had to cover that area with plastic and tape every time I take a shower. Everything looked good from the incision. They access the port which I had put lidocaine on before arriving. That all went smoothly and was pretty much painless. Got the blood drawn, and went to meet with my doctor. We discussed everything that had happened and how I was feeling. I showed her my calendar of symptoms, side effects, meds, etc. Everything looked good. We discussed some changes for next time, but we both agreed that we wanted to go through the next cycle without changes as we both thought that having the port the day before chemo may have had an influence on my side effects. 

Now bear with me as I back up into the past for a minute. I need to preface what happens next. When I had originally met with my surgeon, she had made the comment that I would likely start to feel some occasional pain in my tumor after the second round of chemo. Well, I had noticed on Day 13, that I had felt a couple quick, mild, stabs of pain in my tumor. I had tried feeling it and couldn’t quite figure out what was different, but I knew something was different with it. So now I fast forward to the present. I hadn’t told the doctor that I thought the tumor was different, not sure why I didn’t. I think I wanted to see if it was in my head, and sometimes you just forget stuff during the conversations. The doctor starts feeling the tumor, and she immediately says that it's softer. That means the chemo is eating at the cancerous tumor and is working on shrinking/melting it. That’s great news! Basically, if any stray little cancer cells have migrated somewhere, they are also getting killed off. All my blood work comes back normal, so I’m good to go down and start chemo. They start me off with my routine saline, steroids, and anti-nausea stuff. Then comes the Adriamycin aka Red Devil. This time around, I notice that my normal feeling starts wearing off halfway through the injection. The tired, foggy brained reality starts to set in where things just aren’t quite right. I won’t lie, it kinda sucks. You get teased with these days of relative normalcy, then you get thrown back into this other reality where things aren't as crisp and bright. Oh yeah, I’m back into this funky weird place for the next 10 days or so. Yea! But at least I know it’s working. We finished with the Taxol, and this time when I got my Neulasta patch, I asked for it on my stomach because peeling it off the back of my arm last time was such a painful nightmare. Apparently I didn’t need to get two layers of tape like the nurse gave me the first time (thank goodness!) By the way, it was much less painful peeling it off the stomach for me. Will probably go that route from here on out. 

On Day 1 of the first cycle, that night had been pretty rough. On Day 1 of the second cycle, it was so much better. I had made sure to eat breakfast and lunch, in case I didn’t want to eat that night. That turned out to be a good idea. It was later that evening when I began to feel ever so slightly nauseated. I took one of the prescribed pills, and I certainly helped. The biggest thing was just being tired. I slept pretty hard that night. 

Day 2 was better than my first Day 2, which was nice. Not to sound like a broken record, but just being tired is the biggest hurdle. And whether it’s the tiredness or the Chemo Brain, it took me half a minute to think of the word bumper when I was outside looking at my dad’s truck, and I totally put in a phone number wrong into my phone. On the plus side, my port is bothering me less because I don't have a big taped patch there stretching the skin all the time. 

Here are just a few more pictures from the week.

The First Week - AC Treatment

It’s now been a week since my first AC Chemo treatment. Overall it hasn’t been bad, but it has been different. I use the words strange and weird a lot to describe things. 

I’m going to refer to my days as numbers instead of the days of the week, because that’s pretty much how symptoms and meds run. So chemo is Day 1, and if you read my previous blog, you know that was a rough day. Day 2 was much better. 

The steroids and nausea meds they give me during chemo really do help. Days 3 & 4 were a lot like Day 2. Pretty good days overall. I was able to get stuff done around the house, and took a break when needed. Food still sounds good, but I’m beginning to notice that I’m not really snacky, I’m more likely to eat small amounts of leftovers. I wasn’t prepared for this, because I have always been a major snacky/grazing type person. 

Day 5 started out pretty good, but I could tell my energy was starting to drop as the day went without the oral steroids. By evening, I was beat and just hung out on the couch. Day 6 however was a whole different story. I got up and took a shower, then spent the entire rest of the day on the couch. It is the hardest thing to explain. From talking to a couple people, only those who have been through chemo can relate. It wasn’t that I was tired, because I didn’t really sleep or nap. But I didn’t feel like doing or watching anything either. It was some weird world between awake and asleep. It was blah, not normal, weird. You know how you zone out and your not really in “the here and now”? That’s not even an accurate description. And I was dizzy most of the day. Slight and occasional dizziness seem to be the new normal, but way worse that day. I looked at myself in the mirror one time and I even thought I looked bad. And this is after one chemo treatment, I know it’s going to get worse. There is no way I could have functioned in a classroom on Day 6, and I’m not sure I would have made it through Day 5 either. It took a little more effort to remind myself to eat and drink those two days. I did walk outside with Brad when he got home and sat in a chair for an hour while Brad worked on stuff. Luna (my outdoor cat) and Regan (my dog) would take turns getting attention from me. Now according to me, I was sitting there, with my feet propped up part of the time on a digger, petting the animals off and on. According to Brad I couldn’t sit up and looked like I was half passed out. If he wants me to believe that, he’ll need to take a picture next time. I think he was exaggerating, and many of you know that my husband is a storyteller. 

Day 7 & 8 were so much better. I never needed to lay down once. That doesn’t mean I was full of energy, but I was doing little things, sitting when needed and watching tv. I still needed to take an occasional break, and I continued to be ever so slightly dizzy now and then, but overall pretty good. Though it is strange when just taking a shower means you need a short break.

Sleep. It’s something else that has started to become very strange for me. I’m ready to go to bed and read my Bible and do a devotional, and hit the pillow by 9:30-10:00. I’m typically a late owl and a late sleeper. I never outgrew those teenage years in that aspect. But now I’m awake for a little while every night somewhere between 3:30-4:30. Then I fall back asleep. But not Friday night. I’m telling you, it was so crazy. I stayed up a little later and got to bed about 10:45. You know those people you’re so jealous of that pretty much fall asleep as soon as they go to bed? Yeah, I’m one of those people. You can hate me. It’s okay. But not Friday night. I was laying there thinking, I should be asleep by now. Why am I not asleep yet? Why am I not remotely tired? Was it the can a pop I had 10 hours earlier? (my first can in several weeks, don’t judge too harshly). Was it the carbs I ate today? Why can’t I sleep? It’s 1:00AM. I was actually impressed I laid there that long. Finally I decided to go get my tablet and watch some Netflix. So I watch my new Korean drama, The King: Eternal Monarch, reading the subtitles, keeping the story line straight between parallel dimensions and all that. I debated whether to start another episode. I decide I really do need to try to sleep. I put away the tablet and try to sleep,,, again. Eventually I fell asleep, because I woke up at 3:00, awake and ready to go. I forced myself to sleep again, but kept waking up. I figured Saturday I’ll just be tired and want to camp out on the couch all day. Nope. I was wide awake all day Saturday. It was 8:30 Saturday night before I started to get sleepy. I slept great for about 5 hours, and I was wide awake again for 3 hours, then fell back asleep for a couple of hours. Sleep has become weird. 

Aside from Day 5 & 6, the most annoying thing I’ve dealt with has been my port. It’s just sore. The muscles around it are sore. I have to be careful about lifting or pushing with my right arm, how much I move or stretch my right arm. It’s annoying. I’m in a hurry for it to heal, but it’s only been a week. Thankfully only the area around the actual device is sore. The catheter that goes from my port, then into my jugular and down towards my heart doesn’t bother me in the least. Except when they flush it out and I feel a cool trail of liquid flowing under my skin, over my collar bone, and back down. That is a weird sensation. If I didn’t explain it before, the biggest reason they put a port in is because chemo is hard on your veins. By injecting right into my artery, it’s saving my veins. In case you want to know more about ports, check out this website. I have a PowerPort Slim.  https://www.bardaccess.com/products/ports/powerport#literature

Day 8 I washed my hair, and I’m pretty sure I lost more than was necessary. Plus I kept finding stray hairs on Saturday. We’ll see how long it will be until I shave it. Once a bunch starts falling out, or it’s noticeably thin, or sections start coming out, it’s gone. I don’t like it, but I’m prepared for it. I’m debating whether to shave a fancy design into my head when I do it. If you have any ideas, send them my way. 

By the way, if anyone wants to try a K-Drama on Netflix and you’re willing to read subtitles, there are two that I highly recommend you try. If you like historical action, Mr. Sunshine is awesome. The first episode has some flashback stuff that can be confusing to keep straight, but the rest of it is great. It takes place when Japan is beginning to take over Korea, and how some people are trying to fight back. If you want something more current, Crash Landing on You is a perfect mix of suspense, action, comedy, good guys, bad guys, and romance. A rich South Korean business woman accidentally ends up in North Korea, and a whole group of North Korean soldiers are reluctantly trying to help protect her and get her back to South Korea. The characters in this show are outstanding. It also really brings to light the difference between North and South Korea. I binge watched that one when You-Know-What originally went down in March. It is incredibly addicting. I just may have to rewatch it.

Busy Days

 Tuesday, September 8th was my last day in the classroom with my kids. It was hard looking around my room before turning the lights off, closing the door, and leaving that night, knowing that my classroom would not be mine for the next 24 weeks. It was hard not knowing who would be taking care of my kids. I had only had 14 days with these kids, but they were already mine and there was a special place in my heart for them. It was especially hard knowing that they would have a mix of subs for a couple weeks, maybe more, until they found someone. I felt, and still feel, incredibly guilty about that, but I also know that I can’t put my treatment on hold until they find someone. 

The next day I go to Parkview Heart Institute. Talk about feeling young walking in there. Almost all the patients seemed to be twice my age. I was certainly in the minority age group. They had ordered an echocardiogram to be done before starting chemo, which is pretty routine for people getting my type of chemo. People tend to get echocardiograms confused with EKGs. They are not the same thing. An EKG, or electrocardiogram, is often ordered when you go into the ER and they want to check your heart rhythm because you're having chest pain, breathing problems, dizziness, or they suspect a heart attack. That's when they hook up all the little electrodes all over you. I did not have that done, (though I’ve had one in the past). The echocardiogram is an ultrasound of the heart. It takes pictures, records movement and sounds, and takes measurements. It’s actually the second one I've had in my life. I had one when I was twenty, which is when they found out I have Mitral Valve Prolapse, but it’s very mild. I hoped that was still the case. A couple hours later, they called to let me know that the cardiologist said everything was normal. That was good news. 

After the echo, we drove over for Chemo Education. We got a brief tour of where all the action happens, then we discussed the nitty gritty. I have to show up early to get my port accessed, (except the first time, because they would leave everything accessed from the procedure), they would draw blood, I would meet with my doctor, go over my weight, blood work, symptoms, any changes, etc. I would then head back down for chemo, and they would start mixing up my chemo, based on the appointment I had with my oncologist just a few minutes before. They would give me regular saline solution to help keep me hydrated. And they also give me 3 different drugs to help keep nausea at bay, one being a steroid that would help give me energy and an appetite. The saline and meds take about 45-60 minutes. Then they start the chemo meds. For the first 4 cycles of my chemo, I will be getting AC. The A stands for Adriamycin - aka Red Devil. Not making this up either. You can just guess why it has that nickname. It’s a nasty drug. It’s literally red. It has to get pushed by hand over 10-20 minutes. I have to eat popsicles and eat ice so that my mouth is cold to prevent mouth sores. Chemo doesn’t like to go where it is cold, so that’s why they try to freeze your mouth during that one. Other main symptoms are hair loss, nausea, vomiting, and low blood counts. After they complete that one, they hang the C from the AC. It stands for Cytoxan (I thought about nicknaming it Cyanide). It’s side effects are pretty similar: nausea, fatigue, weakness, low blood count, hair loss. After all that is done, they will unhook my port and put on a Neulasta patch on my arm. This is supposed to promote White Blood Cell counts in your bone marrow. I have to wear it for 27 hours. It is timed to start injecting 26 hours after it has been put on. The side effect of the Neulasta injection, especially for someone young, is bone pain. Guess what they give you for that? Claritin. I never would have guessed. So, I put Claritin on our shopping list before we leave. They also gave me prescriptions for two more nausea drugs and a steroid, plus a lidocaine cream to put on my port so the skin is numb before I arrive for blood draws and chemo. Tylenol can be taken for pain, drinks lots of water, call about any temp over 100.4 (don’t wait for an appointment), use Imodium or Miralax depending on what I need at the moment (add those to the shopping list), make up a mouthwash with salt and baking soda for mouth sores, use plastic silverware if I metal bugs me, be cautious about others being sick around me. That’s just for the first 8 weeks of chemo (4 cycles, 1 go every other week). The second one is called Taxol, which is it’s own special toxin that I’ll discuss when I start it on week 9. On the plus side, I get a free meal while I’m there, so I’m definitely taking advantage of that. Have I mentioned that everybody I have dealt with at Parkview Cancer has just been amazing? Every single one has been so sweet. 

That night I saw Ashley to get my cut. I had texted her about what was going on and told her I needed it short, so that when I buzzed in a few weeks or so, I wasn’t cutting off quite so much. I needed something in between. I’ve never had short hair, so I needed to ease into it a bit. She asked what I was thinking about doing, and I told her I had no idea. She could do a pixie, shave the sides and leave the top long, whatever she wanted. We ended up leaving the top and sides a little longer, and the back short, but layered. She told me that she could shave it when the time came, she has done it before for other clients. Brad is determined that he will do it when the time comes.

Before and after my haircut

Thursday, September 10 is the port at Parkview Randallia.. I was almost late to this appointment trying to get a new student logged in and ready to go from home so that her first day would be smooth. Everyone here was really nice also. I was a little more nervous for this appointment. The biggest procedure I’ve ever had was my wisdom teeth being removed, and that was by a doctor who had known my family since before I was born. Our nurse was nice and had a great sense of humor, which was especially helpful for Brad. The doctor was super nice, and they put me right at ease. The IV in my hand was painful, but I knew it was temporary. Made me glad I was getting the port and not going through that for every chemo treatment and lab draw. They would give me a narcotic and a twilight medicine to essentially knock me out, so I wouldn’t remember anything. I would wake up towards the end and I would be on my way home 20 minutes later. The procedure nurse wheeled me back and we chatted on the way. I was the only port scheduled that day, which was unusual, but they had a bunch scheduled for the next day. She had been doing this for a few decades, so I knew I was in good hands. I was relaxed, my heart rate was 65, I couldn’t see my BP, but I’m pretty sure it was good. The longer I laid there, the more relaxed I became. They got me all prepped and covered, administered the meds, the doc came in, they asked me how I was feeling and how it was affecting me. I told them I was just slightly lightheaded but otherwise fine. They decided to give me another injection of the twilight medicine. Then he gave me lidocaine to numb the area, and that was painless. He was good, of course, the narcotic may have also been working. So I feel him doing all sorts of things, most of which feels like pressure or the port being pushed into place. I start chipping in on their conversation, which kinda caught them off guard I think. Then they started including me in the conversation. We talked about school, where I was from, where I met my husband, different stuff. Towards the end I asked how often people stayed awake for the whole thing. They said it’s not normal. 😂 I went back to the room, and shortly after that I was on my way home. I wore the shoulder strap of the seat belt behind me, we grabbed some Steak N Shake, and I ate on the way home. We stopped at the pharmacy and Brad picked up all my prescriptions. The nausea med, Zofran, had a note that said my insurance would only provide a day's worth on meds at a time. Well, I’d mention it to my doctor the next day. We all know how insurance companies can be a pain at times. That night I was able to tell when the narcotics were wearing off. I took some Tylenol, and tried to sleep. I was not very successful. 

Friday, September 11 was my first chemo treatment. I go in, get the blood draw, meet with the doc. Blood work is perfect, and the lump has not changed. I tell her about the insurance company not wanting to give me the whole prescription and she refers to that as essentially stupid and ridiculous. They will be contacting my insurance company. FYI- I get a message on the phone 60 minutes later from the pharmacy saying that the insurance company had contacted them and that I could pick up my full prescription at any time. Part of me really wants to know how the phone conversation went down. I go down for chemo. I get my own little room. My recliner has a heater and massager, and the nurses are like mother hens. “So you need a warm blank? Do you need a pillow? Need a drink, snack, menu, anything? Here’s the TV, the phone, etc.” They start the saline and pre-meds. My patient navigator from Parkview comes in and gives me a crocheted shawl (she remembered that I don’t like pink) and an elephant coffee cup that says “Believe” that they especially picked out for me because I’m a teacher. Everything else goes as expected. They push the Red Devil by hand while I freeze my mouth with a popsicle and ice. Then they give me the Cytoxan, and after that the Lunesta patch which is essentially a mini computer that can’t be cheap. Brad is eager to take it apart after we take it off my arm to see how it works. We ran up to Costco to grab a couple things; Tylenol, Claritin, hand sanitizer, snacks. We stop at JoAnn Fabrics and I score on some incredibly soft material that I plan to use as head wraps. We head home and stop at the pharmacy on the way to get the rest of  my prescription. I pretty much sleep on and off most of the way home. Not sleeping the night before is catching up with me. I had been told repeatedly that I would feel pretty good the first few days after treatment. Well, that wasn’t true for the first night. It felt like my body was trying to figure out which drug to listen to. I kept trying to decide whether I was nauseous or not. I didn’t feel like vomiting, but I also felt I could go that way pretty quickly. I took a nap for a couple hours and when I got up, I still felt pretty much the same. I finally relented and took the Compazine med. That and a peppermint that a friend sent as part of a care package helped. I munched on a few crackers and took it easy for the night. I took another Tylenol before going to bed and slept great. 

 

My new Breast Cancer shirt I picked up at Walmart by Susan G Koman. It was perfect to wear for my treatment, because it has a wide neck, so that they had easy access to my port. I'm not a pink fan, but this I could handle. I bought another shirt similar to it that I'll wear next time.

Saturday, September 12, was a pretty good day. I took my morning meds (baby aspirin everyday for as long as I have the port, steroids, and Claritin), which I have to say is really weird for someone who rarely takes meds. It usually has to be pretty bad before I take something, but everyone is drilling into my head to stay on top of things, so I’m listening to those who know way more than I do. I bought a little pill organizer and everything, knowing I’d forget to take stuff. I’m keeping track of all my meds and symptoms in a little journal I picked up. Chemo is supposed to be predictable in how it affects you. I got several things done around the house, and felt pretty good overall, but was still tired and sore from the port. I should probably be taking more Tylenol.

It's a funny feeling, knowing you were essentially healthy, except for this one little tumor. And now I'm going to totally poison my body and really make myself feel sick and look miserable to get rid of it. It just doesn't seem right.

The Plan

 As I said before, I'm a planner. I went into the appointment with my surgeon terrified. My blood pressure proved it. It was 146/80. Not surprising considering I knew very little about what was going on in my body, which felt just fine, stress aside. 

Monday, Sept 1st I met with he surgeon. I loved the surgeon. Brad and I both did. She really did have a calming effect. We learned that what I have is referred to as triple negative breast cancer. That means it is not fed by any of the three hormones that typically feed breast cancer. It estrogen, progesterone, and HER2 negative. Only 15-20% of breast cancer cases are triple negative, but it more likely to show up in younger women. It was Stage 2, which we found out was more because of it being triple negative than anything else. Triple negative breast cancer is more aggressive, so of course the treatment is going to be more aggressive. She wanted to wait until after chemo to take the tumor out. Well, now I knew I would be getting chemo. The reason she wanted to wait was to see if the chemo would start shrinking the tumor. If the tumor started to shrink, we knew it was working. 50% of the time when she goes in after chemo, the tumor has completely melted away, and she only takes out the cancer bed. Since they had put a marked in when I had the biopsy, they would know exactly where to look during surgery. She wanted to check my lymph nodes because of something on the one mammogram. She wheeled in the ultrasound machine and thoroughly checked out the lymph nodes. She said they looked just fine, and she had a feeling that what she saw on the mammogram had been a skin fold, which is prone to happen. She suspected that the chemo regimen I would get would last 20 weeks, but she didn't know that for sure. If it was what she suspected, I would lose my hair, it would come back a different color, and would probably be thinner or thinker, maybe straight, maybe curly. She explains that they will be putting in a port, so that I don't have to be poked and prodded every time I come in. 

We go over history of cancer in my family. three of my 4 grandparents have had cancer, one died from it in his 30's. All different types of cancer. She wants genetic testing ordered, so that if something comes up as genetic, we'll then discuss mastectomy or bilateral mastectomy. I had already come to the conclusion, prior to this appointment, that if "my girls" needed to go, I was totally alright with that. 

So now I go home thinking, "20 stinking weeks of chemo? Am I going to be able to keep teaching? How can I teach when I'll be so sick? How can I just stay home and not be at school?" Talk about decisions. I come to the conclusion that there would be no way I can work through all this. How can I be at school some days, go home early some days, and constantly throw the kids into unrest like that? 

The next day I meet with the oncologist. She was great too. Asked all sorts of questions to get to know me. She explained that I wouldn't be as sick as I thought, which got me excited. But she also said she wanted my to eat a healthy diet, but as long as I was eating, that's what mattered (read between the lines on that one). She confirmed the chemotherapy plan the the surgeon had predicted. 20 weeks of chemo, then surgery, then 4 weeks of radiation. Then she said she didn't want me in the classroom. Seeing 31 kids in a day is a lot of exposure to all kinds of things, masks or not. Of course, COVID is top of her concern list. She tells me the decision is ultimately up to me. You want to talk about a tough call. I sit there wrestling what to do. Then she just sits there and says, "We're trying to save your life." In the words of one of my teaching friends, "She had to play that card." And how am I supposed to respond to that?! So, I relented, and said I would agree to be off during treatment. 

Now come the first of three mild panic attacks (slight exaggeration, but only slight.) First, I find out that they are scheduling an echo cardiogram (not to be confused with an EKG, I've been asked that a lot. An echo is an ultrasound of your heart.) for the next week on Wednesday. The port is to be put in the day after, and chemo the next day. I had less than I week to get my classroom ready for a long term sub. My school had less than a week to find a long term sub. Are you kidding me? But I'm not about to ask them to wait to start my chemo. There's a reason they want to move fast. I understand this. Second, they assume I want to start my leave the next day. WHAT!!! I swear the nurse saw me start to panic, because she immediately said, we can start it on a different day. I need time in my classroom to get stuff around! It's not like I'm just leaving for a couple days. We're talking 20 weeks! Third, is when they handed me the work slip and I saw the return date. Up to that point, it had probably been about 4 or 5 days since I had cried. I just about lost it looking at the date. March 1, 2021. All I could do was stare through tear filled eyes. I can't be out that long. I hadn't figured in time for radiation after the chemo. The nurse saw my reaction again and said, "This is just a guideline for the school." I couldn't speak. I was in shock and I was heartbroken. I'm also determined to get back before that date. 

So I start prepping my classroom for subs. I'm running copies, organizing things, changing passwords and long-in for different websites, downloading and uploading all sorts of things a long term sub would need, hoping and praying that they find somebody that will give my kids the structure and stability that I won't be able to give them. I email the all the staff to let them know, and their response has been great and extremely supportive. I talk to the guidance counselor about telling the kids, because I know she will be way better at that then me. So we tell the kids on Friday morning. It was really important to me that we tell them when I would still have a couple days with them. I couldn't tell them and leave, that's just cruel. The kids were great, I didn't fall apart, and they knew that I would be there with them that day and the first day the next week. My last day with them was great. They begged me to read to them, so of course I did. The staff found ways to wear pink with our Farm Day theme in support of breast cancer. 💖 Of course, I'm not the most observant person, and totally did not notice that they did that until the end of the day. They even have a Meal Train set up for me. Really, I think the staff is being a better friend to me, than I am to them. I tend to be an introvert and keep to myself. I live in my own little bubble. I'm going to start making it a point to be better about checking in with people, because I have an army of people behind me, and I feel like I don't deserve it, and that there are others who need more help. But, I'm also wise enough to know that if I hadn't impacted all these people in some way, they wouldn't help. So to those who are praying, sending words of encouragement, donating sick time, bringing food, or anything else, I'm giving you a huge thank you from the bottom of my heart. 💙

The Verse

If you are friends with me on Facebook, you may have noticed that I'm a huge fan of a show called The Chosen. You can check it out here The Chosen. It is a truly amazing show. During the scene when Jesus casts the demons out of Mary Magdalene, he quotes Isaiah 43:1, saying, "Thus saith the Lord who created you, and He who formed you. Fear not, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by name, YOU ARE MINE." Granted, it isn't in the Bible that Jesus said this, but Jesus did quote the Old Testament, and God did say this to Jacob. Either way, this verse started repeating over and over again in my head. I ended up falling in love with the whole passage and have been rereading it a lot since then. 

Isaiah 43:1-4 The Message Bible

But now, God’s Message,

    the God who made you in the first place, Jacob,

    the One who got you started, Israel:

“Don’t be afraid, I’ve redeemed you.

    I’ve called your name. You’re mine.

When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you.

    When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down.

When you’re between a rock and a hard place,

    it won’t be a dead end—

Because I am God, your personal God,

    The Holy of Israel, your Savior.

I paid a huge price for you:

    all of Egypt, with rich Cush and Seba thrown in!

That’s how much you mean to me!

    That’s how much I love you!

I’d sell off the whole world to get you back,

    trade the creation just for you.

Those are some powerful words. I swear when I get through this, I'm going to get a tattoo of "You are mine. Isaiah 43:1" on my arm somewhere in fancy script. This is Old Testament scripture, but remember that in a sense, God did trade creation for each of us 2,000 years later, when he sent Jesus to die in our place. It's another example of him predicting and foreshadowing what would happen later. Let's not take that lightly. The message he gave to Jacob 4,000 years ago, it still a powerful message today. We just have the ability to see how it played out, and just how serious God was about trading everything for us. The least I can do is put my humble faith in the hands of someone who loves me that much.

The Wait

 I'm a planner. Ask anyone who knows me. Ask my mother who raised me. Ask my brother, it always drove him nuts and still does. My husband actually appreciates it,,, one of the reasons he married me. And come on, I'm a teacher. That takes serious and constant planning. So living 9 days (Monday-Tuesday) in a sort of limbo was not my cup of tea. It was brutal. You know what happens when you have 9 days to wait for an answer? 

You Google. 

You shouldn't Google. 

But you Google. 

It gives you hope, it terrifies you, it confuses you, it worries you, and eventually I stopped doing it on day 5. Basically when I read something about survival rates for people my age and it scared the living daylights out me. After that I put "my lymph nodes are clear" on repeat in my head. It helped. 

During this time, I had to start telling people. My husband, parents, boss, a few co-workers. What do you tell people? "Oh hey, I have breast cancer, but I have no other info." That's hard. I'm an intensely private person, that picked one of the most public professions in a small town. I knew there would be no hiding this. My introvert self had to start preparing for this scenario. I could only handle telling a half dozen people. The whole process terrified me. Sometimes I could handle the conversation, sometimes I couldn't. But they all had my back.

Mornings were the hardest. I'm trying to stay normal with my kids at school, but my mind kept drifting. I was constantly sidetracked. Sometimes the battle was not getting teary eyed in front of the kids while my brain wondered to the what-ifs. After lunch, the day seemed better. I felt guilty that my morning kids got the distracted Mrs. Miller, while my afternoon kids got the normal Mrs. Miller. I really don't think they noticed.

My priorities started to shift at school and home. I was working under the assumption that, "Hey, I'm going to have surgery and be out for a couple days. I need to start training my kids to use the interactive tv and be able to help out a sub. I need to get this and this done at home so I don't have to worry about it after my surgery." For some reason the thought that I would be out longer than that didn't register. Actually I think it was there, but I was blocking it out and not acknowledging it. 

I was also just plain tired. Living is a state of constant worry and unknown is just exhausting. It also made me paranoid. What about that new mole I got on my arm earlier this year? (My oncologist is not worried about it). Why am I out of breath after walking up the stairs with a mask on? (FYI - so were my kids and the other staff, it made me feel better). I felt a twinge where the tumor is (couldn't be the fact that they hard literally drilled into it and taken 7 samples out of it with a big ole needle a couple weeks ago). Every little thing made me question whether the cancer had spread. Cue the "my lymph nodes are clear" phrase. 

Gone was my optimism. I was now quietly prepping myself for the worst case scenario. It's going to be stage 4 and they'll give me a year or two. There will be nothing else that can be done. But I also kept quietly telling myself, "My lymph nodes are clear." 

Getting the Call

A whole week passes before I get a phone call. Biopsy was on a Friday, On August 14th, the next Friday,I get a message from my clinic to give them a call. After school I call them and find out they close at 2pm on Friday. So I try to call before school on Monday, August 24th. The receptions says that she can look up the results for me, but then says they aren't in the computer (red flag) so the nurse practitioner will call me after 8am. I let her know that I can call back after 3:30 because I'll be at school. Of course I'm running late getting out of school, and as I'm pulling into my driveway at 4pm my phone rings. I knew within 60 seconds what the results were by the way she talked to me. "Are you at home?" "Are you driving?" "How was school today?" "Is anyone with you?" "Are you sitting down?" Yep, I know exactly what was coming. There went my optimism. So I sat in my car and wrote down the info. It's cancerous. It's estrogen and progesterone negative, but they don't know about HER2 yet. If it's HER2 postive, then it can be treated with a pill. But it also depends on whether it's a round ball, or whether it has started fingering out. She recommends a plastic surgeon to remove the lump and not a general surgeon because I'm young. Sounds great to me. I'm all for going to the experts. She tells me that Parkview Cancer will be calling me to set up an appointment within a couple days. 

August 26th I get a call from Parkview and set up appointments with a surgeon and oncologist. Those appointments are set for the following week on Tuesday, September 1st (I should have been on my way to Hogwarts that day) and Wednesday, September 2nd. 

August 2020

I go in for the mammogram and ultrasound. For never having gone through it before, nothing surprised me. The ladies were great, everything went smoothly. I was there for several hours because they wanted to read the mammogram while I was there and decide if I needed an ultrasound. Well, of course they wanted an ultrasound. So then I waited for them to read the ultrasound, and tell me if they wanted a biopsy. Well, of course they wanted a biopsy. That was expected in my opinion. 

So my patient navigator Cheri (God bless her, she was wonderful!) called the next day to set up my biopsy. Let's just say having a biopsy done the first or second day of school was not an option for me. This was also over 2 weeks down the road. She recognized my frustration (maybe desperation) at not missing anything in the first few days of school. She called at least 4 different hospitals to finally find a place that could get me in before school started. Talk about being grateful! 

I make the hour and a half drive to get the biopsy done. Everything goes smoothly again. They check my lymph nodes and they look good. The only time I was uncomfortable was toward the end of the biopsy when they must have been closer to a section that wasn't as numb. Otherwise, all went well and there was nothing to do but wait (aka - get my classroom ready for school and worry about all the new regulations about how I would do things in the new era of You-Know-What). I will say, I saw a lot of colors from the bruising, but I never had any real pain other than slight discomfort now and then. The steri-strips were the most annoying part. I was so happy when they finally fell off, but a little shocked by the size of the hole left by the drill, I mean needle.

July 2020

I decide to call my clinic to schedule an appointment, since I didn't notice a change in size yet. I make the phone call, and of course no one answers, and I leave a message. The phone call is never returned, and by this time I'm getting things around to go camping. After we get back from camping, I make the call again. This time someone answers and they set me up with an appointment for the next day. They run through a bunch of questions, and I pretty much answer no to everything, which they said was a good sign. She decides I need a mammogram and an ultrasound, which I totally expected. I was hoping they would just order a biopsy at the same time, but no such luck. They schedule the mammogram for a couple weeks out, on August 4th, which concerned me. I knew they would want a biopsy, and the start of school was approaching fast. Taking time off school was not something I wanted to do, but that fault lies with me, as I didn't call sooner for an appointment. 

June 2020

I was laying in bed and ran my hand done the front of my shirt. That's when I felt the lump. But to be honest, my doctor, and several others since my diagnoses, have told me that my breast are dense, which means stuff like that just hides. I used to do self-breast exams, but I just got out of the habit several years ago. Obviously, I should not have gotten out of that habit. I decide to wait until after my next cycle, because things change during that time. Plus I remember having a bruise somewhere in that vicinity in May, but I couldn't remember which side the bruise had been on. So that had to be all it was.