You would think that while I await the biopsy results of a little pink itchy patch of skin located on what seems like the only piece of frontal real estate that is NOT already numb, I'd feel worse, not better (especially since there will be another surgery and scar involved, I'm sure.) But, not so much!
It's gonna be what it's gonna be. In the meantime, I got good test results from the gynecologist, so scratch that off the list for a year:). Next up on the non breast cancer-related health maintenance hit parade, a colonoscopy (but not right now!) And, although my visit to the dentist (and hygienist from hell) resulted in a cavity - which, by the way, is probably caused by another tamoxifen side effect - "dry mouth" - I still feel better, not worse. Interesting and I don't even care why; I'm just thrilled that my reaction is back to non-tear producing semi-normal!
Whatever the label I put on it (discouraged, down, etc.) IT seems to have subsided. I don't remember doing anything differently; maybe as I unraveled the knots that are May's events, things just. Got. Better.
Tomorrow night is Ari's confirmation service and it's going to be great. He has grown up so much in this way, and I can't wait for him to shine. But first, he's going to sing two (count 'em, two) solos with his chamber choir at a competition tomorrow down near Great Adventure (six flags amusement park, about 2 hours away.)
And so......in order to be sure he gets back in time to shower and dress for Confirmation, Rod is driving down there and I am riding the bus with the kids (leaving 6:30 a.m.) so I can escort him out of the park when Rod arrives. Like I said, it's going to be a great night but I think we are going to be pretty tired!
Saturday is our day to breathe, then Sunday is the congregational 40/10 celebration BBQ, Monday is the last "long day" of religious school, then Tuesday the "real" last day of religious school sessions, then Ari's choir concert, Wednesday day to breathe and Thursday we'll celebrate Rod's birthday (which is actually the 24th) with a really nice dinner with his parents and our boys and Jackie. Friday we go to Baltimore for Digital Overload. And, we'll be back in time to go to dim sum (hopefully) on Memorial Day itself.
May is turning out to be all the good things that it promised. Very nice.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Patience Enough Not to Become Discouraged
Although I am not depressed, I am, I have decided, discouraged. Impatient with my recovery progress as it pertains to my physical and psychological contentment with my new self; overtired from worries (perceived) large and small; unreasonably overwhelmed with the end of religious school flurry of activity. All of these things, except the first, are things I can and should be able to “handle” and the last, savor, or at least, take in stride.
So I have installed at my desk an enlarged, highlighted (pink, of course) photocopy of a prayer from our congregation’s prayer book, which asks for, among other things, “patience enough not to become discouraged.”
This morning my dentist’s receptionist called to ask me if I would have my appointment with a hygienist instead of the dentist himself. This may not seem like a big deal to most people, but I finally found a dentist I liked over 20 years ago and have followed him from place to place. We have a good relationship, and he knows that using phrases like “I see we are not flossing regularly” with a grown-up is not only a waste of breath, but also a way to lose a patient. Also, he does his checkup as he cleans, so it always feels more efficient! For whatever reason, he has indulged me and done the cleanings himself ever since I’ve known him. And this morning he has an emergency and he needs to deal with it while I get my teeth cleaned, and will check on me after I’m done with the hygienist. My point (and I do have one) is that I acted like a mature person and agreed to come in anyway, then got off the phone and had a little cry.
Like I said, things I should be able to handle. Tonight is our Teacher Appreciation service, normally a time of immense joy; a lot of fun to sit with my teachers at services and say nice things to them in a public forum. Guess I’ll pray for more patience while I’m there.
Annnnnnd.............Blogspot was down for a while. Back from dentist with small cavity. (No, I didn't get it there; it's just when he found it.) Cleaning was actually pretty awful. I never realized how used I was to the way Dr. Boff works (chatting about baseball and such the whole time, etc.), and the hygienist, although I am sure she was not trying to be unkind, did a whole lot of things that made me uncomfortable. Cavity will get fixed in June.
Let's get through May, first.
Annnnnnd.............Blogspot was down for a while. Back from dentist with small cavity. (No, I didn't get it there; it's just when he found it.) Cleaning was actually pretty awful. I never realized how used I was to the way Dr. Boff works (chatting about baseball and such the whole time, etc.), and the hygienist, although I am sure she was not trying to be unkind, did a whole lot of things that made me uncomfortable. Cavity will get fixed in June.
Let's get through May, first.
Monday, May 9, 2011
The Anniversary Waltz
Tonight on the way home from work I nearly pulled over to have a good cry. But I didn't, just worked out a couple of sniffles and a good strong "get a grip" thought kept me on the road.
Monday is always a long day, and for better or for worse there were a couple of disappointing thing that happened at work that were no more, or less, bad than anything else. I think it's just the way they hit me, and I'm tired.
I've been sleeping rather poorly and am tempted to get back to the Ambien, just to survive all the (good) things coming down the pike for the rest of May. We'll help Alex move back home in a couple of days, our annual teacher appreciation service is Friday, then Ari gets ready for his 2 (count them, 2) solos in his choir concert, but first, his confirmation service is on May 20. Religious school feels like we left every activity until the last minute; May is just packed with special programs and the last days of school are only about 2 weeks away!
A couple of weeks ago I told the therapist that I was feeling kind of down, and that I hoped it was not the depression coming back. But the highlight (or probably lowlight) of it the last time was a lack of appetite, and that doesn't seem to be an issue, nor do I want to go to/stay in bed all the time. And, this evening's brief episode notwithstanding, I haven't really felt like crying for no reason. So, I tried to explain that it wasn't depression exactly, but a kind of loss of enthusiasm, or energy, or something like that - more of a sadness, but not terrible. She pointed out that (almost to the day) a year had passed since my diagnosis, and that, like the loss of a loved one, for a while I might notice this kind of feeling around this anniversary, and those of the surgeries, or maybe just the "big" surgery at the end of June.
Her words were actually quite reassuring. Forewarned is forearmed, I guess. It didn't take away the feeling I am having, but it did make it understandable and best of all, it'll go away eventually. I don't think she said "just go with it" but it was something similar.
It's another timing thing. The trick is to be able to wait for the time to go by to feel better, or to look better, but in the balance not to waste the time and, gosh, there's that patience thing again. Just gonna have to find some more of that somewhere.
Monday is always a long day, and for better or for worse there were a couple of disappointing thing that happened at work that were no more, or less, bad than anything else. I think it's just the way they hit me, and I'm tired.
I've been sleeping rather poorly and am tempted to get back to the Ambien, just to survive all the (good) things coming down the pike for the rest of May. We'll help Alex move back home in a couple of days, our annual teacher appreciation service is Friday, then Ari gets ready for his 2 (count them, 2) solos in his choir concert, but first, his confirmation service is on May 20. Religious school feels like we left every activity until the last minute; May is just packed with special programs and the last days of school are only about 2 weeks away!
A couple of weeks ago I told the therapist that I was feeling kind of down, and that I hoped it was not the depression coming back. But the highlight (or probably lowlight) of it the last time was a lack of appetite, and that doesn't seem to be an issue, nor do I want to go to/stay in bed all the time. And, this evening's brief episode notwithstanding, I haven't really felt like crying for no reason. So, I tried to explain that it wasn't depression exactly, but a kind of loss of enthusiasm, or energy, or something like that - more of a sadness, but not terrible. She pointed out that (almost to the day) a year had passed since my diagnosis, and that, like the loss of a loved one, for a while I might notice this kind of feeling around this anniversary, and those of the surgeries, or maybe just the "big" surgery at the end of June.
Her words were actually quite reassuring. Forewarned is forearmed, I guess. It didn't take away the feeling I am having, but it did make it understandable and best of all, it'll go away eventually. I don't think she said "just go with it" but it was something similar.
It's another timing thing. The trick is to be able to wait for the time to go by to feel better, or to look better, but in the balance not to waste the time and, gosh, there's that patience thing again. Just gonna have to find some more of that somewhere.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Timing is Everything
For several days after our seder at Passover, I felt much the same way I had following Thanksgiving - wiped out (almost ill, but not actually.) I thought back on if there was somehow more work, or less sleep, or less help than usual and to all of those things the answer was - not really. It was the same amount of everything.
After all, it's been awhile since the last surgery, and long enough, I figured, to be not tired like that. I even took purposeful breaks between the cooking and cleaning. Although by the time all was said and done my back and feet were sore from standing in the kitchen, they always are, so I didn't think twice about it.
When I stopped to consider my own line of thought, which was that it's been quite "long enough," I realized I was wrong. It hasn't been long enough. It's only been since January, and that's a little over 3 months ago. From last April, when this all started, through 4 surgeries and what seemed like an infinite merry-go-round ride of miscellaneous anxieties, disappointments, reliefs, and decisions - it was relentless.
In retrospect, there was barely time to really recover from one procedure before it was time for the next, and there was that whole everyday life thing to keep going with as well! It hit me harder than I thought, and like getting off a really really long merry-go-round ride, I guess I am, metaphorically speaking (although not visibly, thank goodness) walking with a bit of a "side lean!"
On one hand, I'm still reminded every day - maybe not every second or every minute any more, but for sure every hour I'm not sleeping, that something is different. And my mind goes right to what that something is, and I stop, and consider if I'm feeling better about it. I then remind myself that it's going to take time (some say a year at the very least) to get to feeling more normal.
So, if I am supposed to give myself the benefit of plenty of time to feel "better" then why was I so surprised about the post-Passover exhaustion? I don't know. But at least now I realize that I can't just give myself the benefit of realistic recovery time in one part of my life and be impatient about it in another. It's just going to take time, and that's all there is to it.
After all, it's been awhile since the last surgery, and long enough, I figured, to be not tired like that. I even took purposeful breaks between the cooking and cleaning. Although by the time all was said and done my back and feet were sore from standing in the kitchen, they always are, so I didn't think twice about it.
When I stopped to consider my own line of thought, which was that it's been quite "long enough," I realized I was wrong. It hasn't been long enough. It's only been since January, and that's a little over 3 months ago. From last April, when this all started, through 4 surgeries and what seemed like an infinite merry-go-round ride of miscellaneous anxieties, disappointments, reliefs, and decisions - it was relentless.
In retrospect, there was barely time to really recover from one procedure before it was time for the next, and there was that whole everyday life thing to keep going with as well! It hit me harder than I thought, and like getting off a really really long merry-go-round ride, I guess I am, metaphorically speaking (although not visibly, thank goodness) walking with a bit of a "side lean!"
On one hand, I'm still reminded every day - maybe not every second or every minute any more, but for sure every hour I'm not sleeping, that something is different. And my mind goes right to what that something is, and I stop, and consider if I'm feeling better about it. I then remind myself that it's going to take time (some say a year at the very least) to get to feeling more normal.
So, if I am supposed to give myself the benefit of plenty of time to feel "better" then why was I so surprised about the post-Passover exhaustion? I don't know. But at least now I realize that I can't just give myself the benefit of realistic recovery time in one part of my life and be impatient about it in another. It's just going to take time, and that's all there is to it.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
I'm Still Here
Yes, I know my last post was January 19. Apparently I was busy or something. The short update is that I’m still healing, so there’s still some pain and itching and awkwardness both mentally and physically. Details follow.
Celebrated bra-less nights as of February 19 after helping to officiate at a Bar Mitzvah (not just any Bar Mitzvah, but the rabbi's son's Bar Mitzvah, and it was amazing), saw plastic surgeon on March 16 (OMG thanks to Elyssa for going with me while Rod was on a business trip) and don't go back until September. But next date to keep in my sights is May 1, after which I don't have to wear a bra in the daytime if I don't want to - just in time for the warm weather floaty tops! (In a decidedly twisted twist, the long line bras are more comfortable than regular bras because they don't cut in so much around the band - that area on both sides is (still!) tender.
In the meantime, I will use the summer to make some decisions regarding further work, i.e. removing fat (unfortunately not all of it, just a little) from the abdomen to fill in a "soft tissue deficit" where the mastectomy removed all of the mammary tissue and left a bit of a dent (shorter way of saying "soft tissue deficit.) Also must decide about tattoos to mimic the physical characteristics of my, as they say, original factory equipment. (I believe headlights would be a reasonably appropriate and non-clinical term to use here - but that's as far as I'm going.)
Dr. D'Amico is still delighted with his own handiwork (using the word "cute" far too often for my taste - what grown woman wants to have that area described as cute? Really!) But I have now been to my own doctor, his nurse practitioner, my chiropractor, and my oncologist, and they have all pronounced it as very fine work. So, that's good. I like when all of my medical professionals have respect for each other's work, even if they're not necessarily enamored of one another. (Breast surgeon thinks plastic surgeon is crazy; plastic surgeon thinks breast surgeon is uptight; oncologist things plastic surgeon is "an interesting guy.")
Also while Rod was away mid-March, Elyssa went with me to the oncologist, whose office is, I swear, one of the happiest places on earth considering what business they're in. I reported that I was dutifully taking my Tamoxifen, that I had stopped my Celexa (depression med) and also the Ambien. Getting off the Celexa was important not only because it means I don't need an anti-depressant, but also because it is one of the medications (though low on the list) that interferes with the efficacy of the Tamoxifen. I switched out the Ambien for some Advil PM and THEN learned (through what they tell you not to do, which is look up stuff on the Internet) that Benadryl, the ingredient that makes you sleepy in Advil PM, potentially interferes even more than the Celexa does. So, now I'm trying my trusted low-dosage of Ativan if I wake up in the night and can't get back to sleep. Which happens every night. Yes sirree, the hot flashes, night sweats, insomnia, and (more) moodiness (sorry, Rod) are not only side effects of the Tamoxifen, but could also be exacerbated by my age and my proximity to menopause.
I'll go back to the oncologist in the fall for an estrogen level test (to see if I need to move to another medication - Tamoxifen works better when you're still making estrogen) and a bone density scan. In the meantime, sometimes we sleep with the window open on my side of the room, even when it's below freezing outside. Thank you, hot flashes. And, if one more person at work asks me "Aren't you cold?" as I wander the halls in short sleeves or sleeveless, I am going to go a little sleep-deprived crazy on them.
Also mid-March was our congregation's 40th anniversary celebration, combined with our rabbi's 10th anniversary celebration, locally known as the "40/10." It was a crazy (good crazy) weekend, including our Purim Shpiel (photo of me dressed as Melanie from Gone With the Wind/Esther on my Facebook page,) a dinner-dance, and a Friday night service that was almost 3 hours long but "rocked the house." I got to sing a song with one of my Jewish folk idols (also immortalized in a photo on Facebook,) in front of a microphone and everything, plus I made a brief, and if I may say so, well-received, presentation to the rabbi. (This, by the way, is how my regular doctor pronounced me no longer depressed - he asked me if I was doing less than I used to. I said that considering the whole rabbi son Bar Mitzvah thing and the singing in front of everyone thing and speaking in public with a little ad-libbing thing, I was doing more, not less.)
Holding all of this together is my regular visits to my therapist, who manages to make me think clearly enough to untangle little problems masquerading as big problems. I don't know if my depression would have naturally dissipated over time without her help but I wouldn't have wanted to find out. I'm going to stick with it for now; I don't think I can afford not to - not quite yet.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Just Like Pulling Off a Band-Aid
Times about a thousand. That's what it felt like. But I was holding my breath so waiting to hear if he was just replacing it with another, that the pain was kind of forgettable, especially when you consider all the other nonsense I've been through. The doctor actually said something about putting a new one back on, looked at me, and I shrugged and told him I had lowered my expectations. Then he saw how unhappy my skin was where the bandages and gauze packing had been, and decided to leave it off.
So, I have just gotten out of a REAL SHOWER:)
And my next appointment is in two months. But in the meantime he wants me to wear, if not the LLB, then something with a similar amount of support for his interior "shelving" sutures, 24 hours a day. I did make a plea for nighttime relief on the theory that gravity did not pull in the same direction if I was asleep in bed, but he wasn't having any of that. He split the difference with me; 24/7 for the next month and after that I can have nights off:)
In the meantime, he really does refer to my particular bra by my name (as in, "We should get this patient into that Rebecca bra.") I don't know if it's just that my perspective or priorities have changed on many things or if I'm just really tired or what, but the visit was almost kind of fun.
Sore but happier (and cleaner) tonight..........
So, I have just gotten out of a REAL SHOWER:)
And my next appointment is in two months. But in the meantime he wants me to wear, if not the LLB, then something with a similar amount of support for his interior "shelving" sutures, 24 hours a day. I did make a plea for nighttime relief on the theory that gravity did not pull in the same direction if I was asleep in bed, but he wasn't having any of that. He split the difference with me; 24/7 for the next month and after that I can have nights off:)
In the meantime, he really does refer to my particular bra by my name (as in, "We should get this patient into that Rebecca bra.") I don't know if it's just that my perspective or priorities have changed on many things or if I'm just really tired or what, but the visit was almost kind of fun.
Sore but happier (and cleaner) tonight..........
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Getting More Than Their 15 Minutes of Fame..............
My next appointment with Dr. D'Amico (to re-bandage or not to re-bandage? that's the $64,000 question; and, could we go back to 12 hrs on, 12 off on the bra, or better yet, go LLB-less?) is tomorrow at 4:15. Today Diane, the receptionist called and left me a message to confirm. (I missed the call because I was attending our staff meeting via phone. I was too freaked out by my drive at 8:45 this morning uphill to the high school and downhill from the high school, in the ice storm, to go out again.)
I called back to confirm that I was confirming (whatever) and the office manager ("oh! perfect timing!") wanted to talk to me. "Here we go," I thought. All these months of not having to pay anything, just being grateful the insurance was handling what is literally hundreds of thousands of dollars in expenses, and it all comes to this moment. The one where she says they're so pleased I've been their patient and we're all so happy together and by the way, how did I want to pay my exceedingly large outstanding balance?
But, no. Dr. D'Amico was so impressed with my long line bra usage and my results with that particular bra, that she had been asked to find out from me where I got them and what brand, model, etc. they were so that he could recommend it to another patient who is having the same surgery I did. After letting her know I would happily cancel my planned (date TBA) bra-burning ceremony and (after laundering, of course) give them to anyone who wanted one, I told her the pertinent details, and we said "see you tomorrow."
Funny thing about those damned bras...................
I called back to confirm that I was confirming (whatever) and the office manager ("oh! perfect timing!") wanted to talk to me. "Here we go," I thought. All these months of not having to pay anything, just being grateful the insurance was handling what is literally hundreds of thousands of dollars in expenses, and it all comes to this moment. The one where she says they're so pleased I've been their patient and we're all so happy together and by the way, how did I want to pay my exceedingly large outstanding balance?
But, no. Dr. D'Amico was so impressed with my long line bra usage and my results with that particular bra, that she had been asked to find out from me where I got them and what brand, model, etc. they were so that he could recommend it to another patient who is having the same surgery I did. After letting her know I would happily cancel my planned (date TBA) bra-burning ceremony and (after laundering, of course) give them to anyone who wanted one, I told her the pertinent details, and we said "see you tomorrow."
Funny thing about those damned bras...................
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
