my Breast Cancer blog

Leslie won the LympheDIVAs giveaway sleeve. Here, she shows off her new fashion (and function) statement and shares her breast cancer story.

I have been so fortunate and blessed in my cancer journey. My doctor received the “normal findings” of my annual mammogram, which was done in mid-May, with the notation that my tissue was dense. He called and said he would like for me to have an ultrasound done as an additional precaution. Early in June, I had the ultrasound and a small spot (4mm) showed up in my left breast. The radiologist recommended that although it was probably just a cyst, I should go ahead and have a core biopsy. This was done a week later, and 10 days postbiopsy, my doctor called to sadly inform me that I had stage 1 cancer. I was catching a plane to celebrate my father-in-law’s 95th birthday within a couple of hours after that call, so my husband and I decided that we would keep the news to ourselves for the long weekend while my doctor set up an appointment with one of our local surgeons for the following week. I must admit that I have felt from the beginning a sense of peace about this whole experience. I have never doubted that my Lord has been with me at all times, and I rest in His saving grace.

When I returned from our trip, I met with the local surgeon and told him that because my mom was a survivor of cancer in both breasts, I wanted to go ahead and have a double mastectomy. He agreed and was to process the schedule with the reconstruction plastic surgeon. In the meantime, I made an appointment for a second consultation with MD Anderson in Orlando. I met with both the oncologist and then the surgeon, and both physicians felt that I was being extremely aggressive in my decision for a double mastectomy based on the results of the biopsy and felt a lumpectomy was the appropriate course of treatment with radiation. But they would do whatever I decided. After researching the statistics and talking to my family, I decided to go with the breast conservation and had a lumpectomy done on August 2. Ironically, the lab reports that came back from that surgery, which included the sentinel lymph node, indicated that ALL the cancer had been removed by the initial core biopsy done in June, and there was no finding of any cancer in the site or at the lymph node!

I am now undergoing 16 days of radiation and will meet again with the oncologist to discuss hormone therapy. Through all of this, I have had minimal pain or discomfort and the only inconvenience is driving 50 miles to and from Orlando for my doctor visits and radiation treatments—no complaints on my end! So many wonderful people have been such a support to me—what a blessing. I have met numerous courageous women dealing with their cancer, been encouraged by an unbelievable number of breast cancer survivors, and have become an advocate for educating and encouraging women in my daily walk to be sure to get their annual mammograms, and if the findings are dense tissue, to seek additional screening such as the ultrasound. Had I waited another year for my next mammogram, who knows how large the tumor would have grown or how far it could have spread. Thanks to my doctor’s foresight, my cancer was caught so early that my prognosis is excellent.

During this journey, I had the pleasure of getting together with one of our business clients. My husband had told her what was going on and she told us all about her cousin Jacki Donaldson and her exceptional cancer journey. As it turned out, I was given a LympheDIVAs sleeve that my friend had won in a contest. When my girlfriend (who is an OT and is trained in lymphedema therapy) was measuring me for the LympheDivas sleeve, I showed her the design I had picked out. She wondered why I was going with the lacy look that will stand out instead of a neutral skin tone color. I told her I want people to notice and hopefully ask about it so I can promote LympheDIVAs and give the elevator version of my experience and how important it is for women to be informed and know about dense breast tissue.

Thank you for detailing your story, Leslie; I hope you get to tell it over and over again because it will make a difference.

LympheDIVAs Compression Sleeve (GIVEAWAY)

Posted on 7/19/2012 By Jacki

19 Comments

I have a compression sleeve. I just don’t wear it much—mostly because I’m not at high risk for developing lymphedema, but also, I think, because the thing is sorta scratchy, and it pretty much blends into the corner of my closet withs its flesh-colored boring-ness, and, so, I usually forget to wear it when I mow the lawn (which, to be honest, is rarely) or when I travel by plane (which I hardly ever do). I’ve got to tell you, though—I’m pretty sure times are gonna change.

I just received a new fancy, schmancy sleeve from LympheDIVAs—a small, family-run company that provides fashionable, medically correct compression garments for upper extremity lymphedema. Lymphedema in breast cancer patients is manifest as swelling that can occur when a sentinel node or a number of lymph nodes are removed or when the nodes receive radiation therapy. Having a sleeve on hand is key—it’s one of the tried and true therapies for lymphedema. Now that I have my newbie, I’m thinking it might become more fashion accessory than cancer-surviving burden.

There’s a great story behind LympheDIVAs: The company was founded in 2006 by three inspirational women, two of whom had lymphedema themselves. One of these women—Rachel Levin Troxell—pushed that hot, thick, itchy, beige compression garment option into the shadows by launching some comfortable, breathable, aloe-vera infused, and fashionable arm candy. Seriously, isn’t my arm beautiful?

Sadly, Rachel passed away in 2008, but her creation lives on, thanks to her dad and brother, who are working to fulfill Rachel’s mission to bring lymphedema awareness to the breast cancer community and beyond. Thanks also to Anna, the designer of all the beauty—the same Anna who is GIVING AWAY one sleeve and one gauntlet to one lucky reader.

Ready, set, enter to win:

Browse the LympheDIVAs online shop and pick out your favorite pattern; leave a comment naming your fave.
Leave your comment no later than 5:00 p.m. EST on Thursday, July 26, 2012.
You may enter only once.
Open to legal residents of the 50 United States and the District of Columbia, who are 18 and older.
One winner will be selected in a random drawing via random.org.
One winner will receive one sleeve and one gauntlet in the pattern of her choice. Gift valued at $153.
Winners will be notified by email, so make sure to check next week to find out if you’ve won!

Powerful Perspective

Posted on 7/3/2012 By Jacki

Radiation Tattoos — Yes, They’re Permanent

Posted on 10/15/2011 By Jacki

2 Comments

I have about a dozen radiation tattoos. This one is the largest; the others are like tiny pin pricks. The tattoos are used to help machines line up without any variation during each treatment.

Radiation Follow-Up Coming Up

Posted on 10/13/2011 By Jacki

Four times a year, I report for some sort of cancer follow-up. Tomorrow, my radiation oncologist weighs in. (I had planned to post a photo of what radiation did to my skin, but I can’t do it. It’s too gross, and it sorta makes me cry.)

Feel-Good Finds: Skin Cream / Giveaway

Posted on 11/27/2010 By Jacki

Welcome to Feel-Good Finds, a series of posts featuring items and products that can cheer you up, calm your mind, and soothe your soul. Whether you’re muddling through cancer treatment or just braving the occasional bad day, pick-me-ups are key. Here, I review all things happy and hopeful. (And sometimes when I’m blessed with extra goodies, I’ll even give them away!)

dermagenics.com

If youthful, healthy, wrinkle-free skin makes you feel good, then DERMAGENICS might be the magic bullet for beating your blues.

My mom (she’s my go-to product tester girl) really likes the Collagen Recovery Cream, and she thinks you might, too.

Here’s why:

It’s soft, smooth, and not greasy at all; it has a pleasant fragrance; it feels light on the skin; and it features a slight tingle that is refreshingly nice.

According to the DERMAGENICS website, Collagen Recovery Cream hydrates, improves, and repairs skin texture, health, and appearance. Ingredients are natural and do not include alcohol, formaldehyde, fragrance, dyes, phthalates, alpha hydroxys, or glycolic acid.

Bonus: it effectively heals radiation and chemotherapy damaged skin.

This isn’t the only DERMAGENICS product, though. There is also an option for women seeking an anti-aging potion, and one for men, too!

Maybe you don’t want to jump right into a purchase, but you still want to give DERMAGENCIS a try. Well, that’s what giveaways are for, and two of you can win a 30-day supply just by entering the contest below.

Leave a comment and tell us what you’d like to win: the women’s anti-aging moisturizer, the collagen recovery cream, or the men’s anti-aging cream.
Leave your comment no later than 5PM ET on Saturday, December 4, 2010.
You may enter only once.
Open to legal residents of the 50 United States, and the District of Columbia, who are 18 and older.
Two winners will be selected in a random drawing via random.org.
Two winners will receive one jar of DERMAGENICS cream (value, $85).
Winners will be notified by email, so make sure to check next week to find out if you’ve won!

This Room

Posted on 9/24/2010 By Jacki

This is the room.

Five and a half years ago, I sat in this exam room, after being shuttled over from the hospital room in which I’d been living for five days with chemo complications. The radiation folks deemed it necessary to prep me for my next therapy, which takes a lot of planning and precision, so they borrowed me from the oncology floor, and put me here.

Then they transported me to a special table, where they taught me to recline against several different molded pillow-like things, tattooed me (little dots mark my radiation area), and schooled me on how to breathe with a special tube (to move my heart out of the way of radiation beams).

In this room, back in 2005, I was in a wheelchair, sick, bald, and feeling quite blah.

Today, I sat in this room again. Not sick, not bald, and feeling quite spunky. Today, I walked out of this room thinking about what my doctor had just told me:

“You are just fine.”

Ahhhh. I love this room.

Radiation-Ready

Posted on 9/23/2010 By Jacki

Post-chemo, pre-radiation!

I know this pre-radiation photo is revealing, and I’m sorry if it offends you in any way. I am a pretty modest person overall, really (no bikinis for me!), but I don’t spare any details when it comes to breast cancer. I figure it can only help to be totally open and honest about the realities of a very frightening disease. I mean, if just one woman sees this pic and feels better prepared for her breast cancer journey, then I know baring my breasts was a wise move.

And so here they are, the boobies I saved with a lumpectomy, the boobies I’ll remove if cancer comes back, the boobies that will be evaluated during a follow-up tomorrow by the oncologist who five years ago delivered 30+ doses of external beam radiation to my left side over a six-week timeframe. As a result of this time-consuming and fatigue-causing treatment, I have a bunch of tiny blue tattoos, a possibly-affected heart, a weak rib cage, a fair amount of armpit numbness, and limited range of motion in my arm.

Yea, bummer.

But I also have my life, and so, I will bounce right in to see my doctor in the morning, thankful she scorched and burned me all those years ago, and hoping like mad that she finds nothing suspicious or scary lurking under that skin that was once marked up all pretty by black by red Sharpie pens.

Grateful, Plus the Curse of Cancer Treatment

Posted on 6/18/2010 By Jacki

Photo: LaserGuided, Flickr

I’m a grateful girl. Really, I am. In fact, I can’t even put into clear and concise words how very thankful I am for the breast cancer treatments that have kept me alive for five years. If I even try to put my thoughts into words, I promise you tears will stream down my cheeks. I’m about to turn 40 on Sunday, and WOW, I wasn’t sure I’d make it to that age, what with birthday No. 34 followed by such fear and uncertainty.

Just so we’re clear: I am so. very. happy. to be alive and writing this. I’m simply amazed by what medicine has done for me.

I’m amazed by what medicine is doing to me, too. Five years later, and it finds a way to make me a little bit miserable. Right now, actually, a lot miserable.

I’m covered in red, itchy, drive-me-crazy bumps on my shoulders, chest, back, and areas around my armpits. It happens every year, and it’s called something like UV Recall. Years after treatment, the sun reacts with my skin and the poisonous drugs, and the remnants of radiation, and sunscreen (I’m not sure about what order this all follows or if it’s one or several of these factors), and my skin pays the ultimate price. You’d think I’d have figured it out after all this time, but I haven’t, because sometimes (like last year at the beach), nothing bad happens. I find a sunscreen for sensitive skin, lather it from head to toe, and I’m just fine, maybe even a tiny bit tan, which is a treat for a fair-skinned gal like me. Other times (like this year at the beach), I find a sunscreen for sensitive skin, and, well, the bumps begin — just a few here and there, then some more, until they’ve climbed all over my body, making me more and more wacky by the day.

“Are you not so happy?” Danny asked me today.

Gosh, how I’m trying to be happy, plodding along through these summer days like everything is fine. But it’s not. I’m itchy and scratchy, showers hurt my skin, clothing bothers it, too, the Florida heat (it’s been like 100 degrees here lately) agitates every inch of me, and well, no, Danny, I am not so happy. (Add head cold to the equation, and you might imagine how poorly I really feel.)

The end is near, I know. The bumps will dry up and slowly disappear, and I will do what I always do — slink into the shadows at the pool, sit under an umbrella at the ocean, hide under the bimini of a boat. It’s no fun to be the mom always seeking shade and avoiding fun in the sun. I guess that’s why, year after year, I keep trying to jump waves, and find sea shells along the seashore, and splash in the pool — because I want to think cancer treatment won’t keep plaguing me. But it does, and it probably always will. And that’s just how it is. The very thing allowing me the pleasure of birthdays is torturing me, too.

OK, I’m getting a grip here. This skin ordeal is short-lived. It will consume about a week of my life (couple more days to go), and then I’ll move on. Maybe I’ll even be free and clear by Sunday, when I blow out 40 candles and celebrate another year of life.

See, I’m grateful. Really, I am.

Note: If you caught this post just as it published, you got a glimpse of what I look like. But the photo I put up at first has been taken down. It’s just too icky, and while it’s definitely educational, I decided to shield you from the yuck. And me, too. Looking at the mess in the mirror is enough. Online is just too much. And so I give you: flowers, pretty flowers.

Deviant Jeans Stitches Together Support

Posted on 6/2/2010 By Jacki

deviantjeans.com

I’d love to take this great story about Deviant Jeans and put it into my own creative words, but I’m afraid I just wouldn’t do it justice.

So, I’m going to do what no writer really ever wants to do — copy and paste.

It’s the only way, though, for you to feel the emotion that powers this company.

Yes, I’m cheating a little. But right after I cheat, you’ll find something I did work on myself — an interview with Deviant Jean’s Kristin Dudley.

OK, here goes:

Deviant Jeans began in a hospital room at the Dana Farber Cancer Institute when a genetic counselor broke the news that Kristin Kantner’s mother, Doris, tested positive for a gene no one else had. After a moment of silence, all her family in the room began laughing at the notion that within their perfect mother was a little deviance — a “deviant gene.”

Kristin’s mom, a positive, independent, and fashion conscious woman, recognized during her cancer treatments that she had to compromise her style in order to be comfortable and compliant to doctor’s orders. As side effects of her treatments persisted, she found buttons, zippers and the basics of adorning regular clothing a challenge. Kristin watched her mother struggle to match practicality, comfort and fashion and decided to take action…

Kristin collaborated with her entrepreneurial neighbor and friend, Jane Hoffer, and by a twist of fate, the two met Kristin Dudley, a Philadelphia based fashion designer focused specifically on designing for women’s wellness. After a year of planning, designing, and caring, Deviant Jeans™ apparel is now “MADE WITH LOVE IN PHILADELPHIA,” and available to women nationwide.

And now for the fancy interview:

Tell us exactly how some of your products make life easier for cancer patients.

A major consideration in all of our designs is for our apparel to transition from every day to treatment days, without the need to disrobe when receiving chemotherapy or undergoing testing. The Deviant Heart Camisole is especially helpful for women undergoing breast cancer treatments. It is designed with a comfortable shelf bra, and features a contoured neckline to allow for easy port access. The straps are wide, which alleviates the shoulder of the digging and indentations that typically occur from bra and spaghetti straps.

How do you determine what women need?

I have been designing products and apparel for women’s wellness for the past 4 years. Throughout this time, women have approached me with requests for apparel designed to suit their changing bodies and lifestyles. I began receiving faxes with hand drawings of what they were seeking! I have met with many medical professionals as well, who also influenced my design. I address the construction issues, and then I add style!

You’re not just about selling stuff — you’re charitable, too. Tell us more.

When initiating Deviant Jeans, there was one thing that was clear between my partners and myself: we are here to make a difference, not a fortune. We decided to give the customers the unique opportunity to choose their preferred charity they wanted a portion of their purchase to benefit. We offer a list of different charities to choose from at our online checkout, and accept requests from those who wish to support their local support group or other charity.

Name one great clothing tip for women making their way through treatment.

Light layers are essential! Hospitals tend to be very cold inside, yet at the same time, you never know when a hot flash may pop up. Begin with your favorite camisole and layer with a loose fitting button down shirt or tunic. Bring an open front sweater or wrap to wear on top of that. Have fun with your middle layer — seek brilliant colors and wild prints! Think of your clothing as your armor, and fight your battle boldly!

Pretty cool, stuff, isn’t it? Well, it’s going to get even cooler, because very soon, Kristin and I are going to be sponsoring a fun contest. Called “Message of Strength,” it involves calling up your artistic talents, and it could win you a free EMPOWERWRAP. More to come, so, keep checking back.

What Helped Me Move Forward

Posted on 5/20/2010 By Jacki

My friend Lexi over at Jeans Cream asked me to write a guest post for her blog and I did. It published today. Here it is: http://bit.ly/9BOMdJ

Surviving Cancer — and Its Side Effects

Posted on 3/22/2010 By Jacki

Oncology: a branch of medicine that deals with tumors (cancer).

I went for another cancer check-up this morning, the first since my 5-year cancerversary. Mostly, everything is A-OK — so well, in fact, that I now get to see my favorite doctor once a year instead of every six months.

But with the happy hooplah of surviving cancer for a good amount of time comes the fact that I need to start thinking about surviving the side effects of cancer for a good amount of time. There are certain issues that come with life after cancer. For me, it’s mostly heart stuff.

Three things that might affect my heart: the chemo drug Adriamycin (I had four doses), radiation (it was delivered right on top of my heart) and Herceptin (the wonder drug I received for one year). All three of these life-savers can compromise heart function over time. “You should be so lucky to get heart disease in 20 years,” someone once told me, “because it means you will have survived cancer for 20 years.” Yea, that doesn’t make me feel so relieved. In fact, it’s apparently cause for a consultation.

Someone is going to contact me soon to discuss survivorship issues, says my doc, and this person will notify my primary physician of potential concerns, too, so he can monitor me appropriately. I’m not overly concerned about this, really. I’m basically just thankful to be alive, with a heart that today is very strong. For now, that’s just enough.

Jeans Cream Soothes Radiation Skin: Giveaway

Posted on 2/3/2010 By Jacki

9 Comments

jeanscream.com

My skin did pretty well during radiation. For weeks, nothing at all happened, and then at the very end of my 30+ days of treatment, a mild burn showed up. No blistering, though, or peeling, or anything else that made me horribly uncomfortable.

You (or those you know who are getting zapped) might not fare so well. Lucky you (actually two of you!), because right here, right now, you can enter to win a free tube of Jeans Cream. It’s a natural and revolutionary product that soothes and protects skin with high-potency vitamins and botanical extracts. And it’s not made by just anyone — creator and founder Jean is a two-time breast cancer survivor, and so she knows first-hand that this stuff really works.

Jeans Cream is good for more than just radiation-affected skin, it can effectively treat eczema, sunburn, diabetes-related skin issues, contact dermatitis, wound care, and you can even use it for daily moisturizing.

What are you waiting for? Leave a comment, and you just might score this valuable gift!

Leave a comment and share why you need this cream!
Leave your comment no later than 5PM ET on Wednesday, February 10, 2010.
You may enter only once.
Open to legal residents of the 50 United States, and the District of Columbia, who are 18 and older.
One winner will be selected in a random drawing.
Two winners will receive one 7-ounce tube each of Jeans Cream (valued at $45 per tube).
Winners will be notified by email, so make sure to check next week to find out if you’ve won!

Flashback: December 24, 2004

Posted on 12/24/2009 By Jacki

9 Comments

Side effect of radiation: limited range of motion in my left arm

Side effect of cancer treatment: limited range of motion in my left arm

I do have my breast. And I have a fairly good prognosis. My lump was removed and measured 1.1 cm, which is small. My lymph nodes were negative for cancer, although four were removed for biopsy purposes. My margins were clear, and there was no apparent spread of cancer. My cancer is considered stage 1. And that is good. I have two incisions, one in my armpit where lymph nodes were taken and one underneath it, on the side of my breast. They are both about 3.5 inches long. Besides a bad skin reaction to the tape I was bandaged with, everything went well. There are minor inconveniences right now. As my incisions heal and my skin tightens, it’s harder to lift my arm. So I have exercises I must do each day. Because of the missing lymph nodes, I may have trouble with swelling in my arm so I have to watch for that. I have not been able to shave my armpit since my surgery on December 3.

And now I await the next step in this battle. I will begin receiving chemotherapy in mid-January. This will last for three months. I will go for treatment four times, once every three weeks and will have a combination of drugs sent through my body via IV. The purpose of chemo is to kill rapidly growing cells, and cancer cells are rapidly growing. Unfortunately, all rapidly growing cells are killed, like hair cells and bone marrow cells. The chemo should kill any cancer cells that floated away from my breast, if any did. I don’t know how I will react to this process, as each person responds differently. At the very least, I hear I will be tired at times during each three-week time frame. I may also be tired from the radiation. This will begin three weeks after chemo ends.
NOTE: It didn’t happen exactly like that: Instead of receiving chemo every three weeks, I had it every two weeks — it’s called dose-dense chemo, and if the patient can tolerate it, it’s thought to be more effective. Did I tolerate it? Well, I survived, but I was hospitalized twice because it was so hard on my body.

I will receive radiation every day for 6 weeks. The purpose of radiation is to zap the actual area where the cancer was found to prevent it from recurring. Many women take a drug after chemo and radiation to prevent recurrences. The drug (usually tamoxifen) is taken for five years. My body will not respond to this type of drug due to negative estrogen receptors (if they are positive, the drug can be taken) so chemo and radiation will be my only two real treatments.
NOTE: Radiation went just fine. It was a breeze compared to chemo, and my skin didn’t burn too badly. The biggest hassle was the drive to and from the appointments. And while it’s not such a big deal, my left arm has limited range of motion due to the combo of surgery, scar tissue and radiation. See photo above — my right arm touches the ground, but my left arm won’t.

For now, I am trying to keep life simple. Joey and Danny help me do that. Joey knows I am frequently going to the doctor for a “boo-boo” I had in my “booby” and he has been very attentive. One day after a doctor appointment, he said, “Mommy, you need to go home and rest. I’ll bring you a banana.” He is almost four years old. Danny, at 19 months, does not seem to know anything is going on and it’s my hope that he never has any recollection of this path our lives are taking. I will never forget it, though, and that’s OK. I will take this experience and make it matter. A friend sent me a breast cancer bracelet inscribed with trust your journey. I do. I trust that I will be fine in the end. And I trust that I was given this fight so I can help others. That is why I have written this. I hope everyone who reads about my journey is affected in some way. Perhaps it will increase the amount of women who do self-exams. Maybe it will arm others with information to help loved ones who are affected by this common disease (about 1 in 8 women will get breast cancer at some time in their lives). Maybe it will spread hope. At the very least, writing helps me. And for now, that is enough.
NOTE: Writing still helps, five years later.

Every Scar Tells a Story

Posted on 8/22/2009 By Jacki

4 Comments

Every scar tells a story. Here’s Angi’s:

Angi Navarro

I got my first port in April 2005. I was told I should probably get a port prior to chemo (for breast cancer), so I found a general surgeon who could perform the surgery ASAP. I only had to do four rounds of chemo, but I didn’t want to take any chances with ruining my veins. As it is, I only have one arm which can be used since I had lymph nodes removed on the other side. After I completed my chemotherapy, I went ahead and set a date to have it removed, since it was pretty much useless as far as using it instead of an IV for surgery and such. My general surgeon didn’t find it necessary to take me back into the OR to remove my port. Instead she did it right in her office, claiming it wouldn’t hurt. At the time I had it removed, only three months had passed. So when she took a scalpel and sliced through the original incision, she was cutting through a healing wound — and it hurt. The site never healed correctly after that. Scar tissue formed on top of scar tissue. But still, it wasn’t all bad.

In 2008, when my cancer returned, it was thought that I would have to endure chemo again. So when the breast surgeon went in to remove bits of my chest wall, she placed a port so I wouldn’t need another surgical procedure. It wound up unnecessary, as I underwent radiation instead. The port sat unused until April of this year. I was undergoing breast reconstruction surgery, so my plastic surgeon removed it. Not long after, as it was healing, I noticed some areas that hurt when I touched it. Upon closer inspection, I found that I had very small bits of nylon surgical sutures poking out of the scar. I couldn’t pull them out or cut them any closer to the skin. These stitches sticking out, along with scar tissue on top of scar tissue, made for a pretty uncomfortable area. When I found out that I would be having revisions made to one of my breast implants, I asked my surgeon if he could make it a little less sightly. He agreed to revise the scar for me as part of my procedure on Monday. I’m looking forward to being able to wear my seat belt and bra straps comfortably again.

There’s a lot more to Angi’s cancer story than this. You can read all about it on Cancer is NOT a Death Sentence.

If you’ve got a story you’d like to share, please leave a comment, and I’ll be in touch.

Been through a lot worse

Posted on 12/6/2008 By Jacki

This morning, I had my eyes dilated during an eye exam. I hate that. So much so that last year, I refused to let my very nice doctor place those evil drops in my nearly-blind eyes. You need them, she told me, and I told her I’d come back in a few months. I never did. One year later, today, I complied. I permitted the dilation, and I’ve been suffering all day.

Those drops, given after the also-hated glaucoma drops that numb my eyelids, make my vision blurry and prevent me from seeing anything up close. They make light much brighter than it should be, and they give me a killer headache. Have I used the word hate yet?

“Gosh, your pupils are so dilated,” my doctor told me as I was paying for this torture. “I know, I hate it,” I told her. Her wise response: “You’ve been through a lot worse.”

She’s right. I have been through a lot worse. A growing tumor or yucky eye drops? I’ll take the eye drops. Chemotherapy or blurry vision? Blurry is better. Radiation or a day-long headache? OK, so the headache isn’t so bad.

Geez, I’m such a whiner. The funny thing is, I really only whine about the little things, like dilated eyes. Somehow, I rise to the occasion for the big stuff. Cancer scared me. But I didn’t whine about it. Same with childbirth. Big, painful stuff. No whining at all. What’s wrong with me? Nothing, actually. My eyes checked out just fine. And I don’t have cancer anymore. I have absolutely nothing to whine about. Well, until next year’s eye exam.

Dianne

Posted on 10/10/2008 By Jacki

A friend of a friend called me the other day to thank me for loaning her a book. The book: Love, Medicine and Miracles: Lessons Learned about Self-Healing from a Surgeon’s Experience with Exceptional Patients
Love, Medicine, and Miraclesby Dr. Bernie Siegel. It’s a book about exceptional patients—you know, the ones who do battle with diseases like cancer not only with surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation, but with attitude. Not just any attitude. I’m talking positive, hopeful, this-won’t-get-me-down-or-kill-me attitude. I thought it was an appropriate book for this young woman, a wife and stay-at-home mom of two little boys, who finds herself fighting stage 3 lung cancer. But what I realized when I talked to Dianne on the phone is this: The girl doesn’t need this book. She’s already exceptional.

Dianne is a non-smoker, an active gal who had no risk factors for such a horrible disease. She got it anyway, though, and by golly, her mission is to get rid of it. Knee-deep in both chemotherapy and radiation, her spirit is amazing. She’s strong, tough, and willing to do what it takes to crush cancer. Crush it is exactly what I think she’ll do. She’s an exceptional patient, after all. I think she’ll realize this as she flips through the pages of her new book and realizes she’s the very person Dr. Siegel discusses. Yes, Dianne, is going to do just fine. It’s the cancer that won’t fare so well.

Healthy boobs & other cancer facts

Posted on 9/5/2008 By Jacki