Checking (and Weighing) In

No posts since November 28.  I read back over that one and think, not for the first time, how far I've come.  Part of the reason I haven't written was because there was not much to say.

I've been to the oncologist, she confirmed that I am indeed not making any more estrogen, and she switched me to Femara (generic: Letrazole) which has a new set of side effects, some the same as the tamoxifen, some different.  And I thought just for the 3 1/2 years I had left after 1 1/2 on the tamoxifen, but no; 5 years on this one.  Uncharacteristically (I felt) for her, she said that even that was no guarantee that breast cancer would not return.  This whole 5 year yardstick is a load of crapola, apparently.  Terrific.

On the upside, work and family have kept me busy enough to not think about things more often than I used to.  We (Rod, Ari & I) had a lovely trip to a conference center outside of DC for the URJ biennial in December - Barak Obama was one of the speakers - and in February I accompanied our rabbi and teens to the DC area for the Religious Action Center's L'Taken program.  Four whirlwind days of bus, study, prayer, lobbying, and touring.

For the record, I'm still wearing the corrective/restrictive/restraining undergarments.  My appointment with the plastic surgeon was scheduled for earlier this month, but since he had answered two of my questions (When can I stop wearing these things and still be a good patient?  and When will we know if the fat transplants "took?") with "in six months," so I figured to not go see him again until the six months had actually passed.  Makes sense to me.  Who wants to go to the doctor so he can say "we'll see in another month" and then know he's not going to want to see you again that soon?

When I went to the oncologist I got weighed and I weighed pretty much the same as, well, forever.  Which is not exactly what I'd hoped for.  After all, the surgeon removed a whole bunch of fat.  I've gone down to a size 1 at Chico's (love their sizing system) in the pants department!  So for a change, I have decided to rationalize the weight issue in two ways that may or may not be scientifically accurate, but I'm not sure I care.  One, the implants have got to weight SOMETHING.  They certainly seem to weigh enough to make me acutely aware of them, except when I'm really busy or asleep.  Two, I've taken to walking a quick mile or using a mini elliptical machine for 15 minutes that Ari convinced me to buy from QVC (or HSN, or wherever), 5 times a week.  I'd heard that muscle weighs more than fat, and that the only thing that matters is how your clothes fit.  Let's go with that.

Another reason I hadn't written was that I thought a lot of my writing wasn't DIRECTLY related to the reason this blog was started in the first place - breast cancer.  I was writing about trips, and family, and work, and other fun (and not so much) things going on in my life.  Did I need to start a DIFFERENT blog to do that in order to remain true to this whole endeavor?

I've decided that if getting through breast cancer (again) was about anything aside from medical issues, it was about everything.  If it's about me, than it's about me.  And it shouldn't all be IV complaints and scar tissue and fears and medication and doctor appointments.

Huh...turns out I had a lot to say after all.