Yep, 42 days till Christmas. But that's not the season I'm talking about. As I'm researching and reading about this current stop on this journey, I read another survivor's post who said something about this being just a season in our lives. It really helped me gain some perspective. We have been through many "seasons" in the past few year, literally and figuratively. The holiday season is my favorite...from Halloween to New Year's Eve. The NICU season...not so favorite. Thyroid cancer season...also not my favorite. Breast cancer season...you guessed it...the opposite of favorite.
But I am allowing this season to offer me a chance to reflect, process and identify, when I can, the good in this season. Recovery from this most recent surgery has been more difficult, but do-able. Each day, my arm feels less numb. My armpit is still MIA. But the drain is also gone! That was a great day. However, I am able to spend extra time with Harper. I had always felt guilty that I only spent a year at home with her, instead of three as I did with Jack. Tomorrow we are going to the National Christmas Center and I might take her along for my post-op appointment in Baltimore on Thursday so we can visit the aquarium. I was also able to be the Secret Reader at her pre-school and will be able to attend her Thanksgiving feast! I mean, who wouldn't appreciate spending time with this little darling?
Although my pathology results did not come back as expected (CLEAN margins in the breast, 5 lymph nodes were negative, 16 were positive = Stage 3C). (I literally just stopped myself from writing the positive lymph nodes first...shifting my perspective every minute.) My oncologist was shocked by the results. Ditto. But, my surgeon (Dr. David Euhus, Chief of Breast Surgery at Johns Hopkins) had a positive outlook. Had I not had this surgery, those nodes would still be in my body. They are gone. I am so thankful that I followed my instincts and got the PET scan, even if my insurance didn't find it necessary or worth covering. And now I am no longer doubting whether anti-cancer medication is necessary, nor am I doubting that the most aggresssive option is the right choice. In fact, I've decided to start anti-cancer medication sooner, rather than later. I will have my first infusion on Friday, November 17th, at the Ann B. Barshinger Cancer Center (ABBCI) in Lancaster. I will have 3 additional cycles (every 2 weeks). The medications are: adriamycin and cytoxan. After those 4 cycles, I will receive 4 more cycles of Taxol (every 2 weeks again).
I can't help but connect this season with our NICU season. Jack was in the NICU for 4 months. Anti-cancer medication will last approximately 4 months. We were faced with choices about life-saving medications and procedures that might also destroy. We are faced with the same choices now. Life after the NICU was precarious and filled with appointments, medications, and therapies. I will continue with radiation therapy, physical therapy, and anti-estrogen medications for 10 years. From the moment Jack was born, I was afraid we would lose him. Now, in this season, my biggest fear is that my children will lose me. This thought hits me often, like a punch in the gut. But LOOK at Jack now. He is here. He is thriving. He survived. And so will I.
Our family has been blessed with so much support. Some of have joined me for walks, others have driven me to appointments. The meals we have eaten since surgery have been awesome (especially because I did not have to prepare them!). Thank you all...and keep it up! Here are two links if you are interested in meals or walks:
Take Them A Meal
Walking With Heather


