My "Mamm"wars: Fighting to Survive Stage 4 Breast Cancer

I had my first post op appointment with Dr. Griffin today. I was irritable and nervous leading up to it. I've been cooped up in the house since last Wednesday, and really haven't been "out" since the day before surgery. I've got cabin fever. So I was excited to get ready, until I realized I still can't lift my arms to put on makeup. And if I got the makeup on...I would have NO CLUE how to thoroughly wash my face to remove it tonight! And I was getting nervous about what Dr. Griffin would say. When I get exceptionally bored just laying around, I start to feel myself up a bit - and pretend I would actually be able to tell if something were drastically wrong. I've always been known to push, pull, poke, prod, and pick at things..and this time it's no different. But regardless, it was nice to put on some clean yoga pants, pin up my drains, and hit the road. All that worry was for nothing though. Dr. Griffin said everything is looking great! I'm he

When we explained to Reagan that I have cancer, we told her that I will take medicine that may make me lose my hair. Ever since then, she's been adamant that I get a clown wig. In fact, it's pretty much all she talks about when "mommy not feeling well" is mentioned. Since getting home from the hospital, I've taken every opportunity to discuss any and all parts of this with her that she wants. If she asks about my boobies, we give her very straightforward answers - and her questions usually end up back to "When are you getting a clown wig, Mommy?" A few days ago, she was leaving for school and came over to the bed to say goodbye. She had some change in her pocket and fished it out. She said "Here, Mommy. This is money to put towards your clown wig." So what is a good mommy to do?! Buy a clown wig, of course!! At first I was not totally on board with this. My thoughts were: I'll whack my boobs off for you, but I draw the line at wearing a c

Time is such an odd concept to me now. The only thing I have to do is get better. I don't have to be anywhere (until 3:15 on Monday that is). I can't take care of the girls, and I am in no condition to micro manage Matt, so I don't care what time of day it is regarding meals, snacks, naps, etc. I keep forgetting what day of the week it is. And I don't forsee this changing over the next few weeks. I don't have an appointment with my oncologist, Dr. Adler, until Feb 18. I have no idea how far away that even is. It's such a strange feeling. It really hit me this morning though in a sad way. I realized it was Saturday. Saturday is my favorite day of the week usually. After working all week and being away from the girls, I love our Saturday mornings together. It's the first day we don't have to rush around and eat, get ready, get lunches packed, and get out of the house by 7:30. We hang out in our pajamas, watch cartoons, play, and decide which park we'

It's been a week since I've been able to write. It feels like a year... Friday morning I would go from being eerily calm, to just a puddle of tears. We arrived at the hospital right at 6:30 along with my parents. By 7 I had been admitted, put in a hospital gown, vital signs taken, and had even met with the anesthesiologist. Around 7, Dr. Griffin came in and asked me to stand in front of him so he could "mark" me up. Seriously, this has got to stop. It is so humiliating to stand there in front of someone and show him your every flaw. But I do it, of course. And, I'm sure like most women, I suck my gut in as I'm standing there. He says "Let your belly out, Melissa." Fine. I let it out... a little. "Melissa, let it out all the way..." Fine. BAM - I let it go. Just to hear "Ahh...there we go! Yeah! We can get a lot with this! I think you'll be just as big, if not bigger, than before." I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.

I was shocked today when I woke up. I was 100% sure I would NOT sleep last night. But not only did I sleep, I probably slept better than I have in weeks. I started thinking of how I should send the "girls" off.  It would be my last 24 hours with them, after all. Flashing people in New Orleans for Mardi Gras was out, and the only other thing I could think of was to sunbathe topless. But alas, I live in San Bruno. So the only rational solution was to go shopping.... again. The girls were at school and daycare today so as not to totally disrupt their lives. And Matt worked last night so he needed to sleep. I had the morning to myself and had a surprisingly nice and very relaxing time. At 2, I woke Matt up and we had to go down to my home away from home - the hospital. Today's appointment was in Nuclear Medicine. That just sounds daunting, doesn't it? After waiting a while, I was finally shown to a room that had a huge contraption in it. It resembled an MRI machine, b

I met another angel today. Her name is Elisabeth, and she was the nurse who did my pre admission at the hospital. She was warm and friendly from the beginning. As soon as she took me into her little office and started looking through my paperwork she said "You're 36?" I replied  "Yes." Then she says "I was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 36 also. I'm 51 now." I almost started crying (with joy). Here she was, alive and beautiful and perfectly healthy! As we kept wading through the paperwork she told me more and more of her story. She had 3 young kids when she was diagnosed. And she was going through a divorce. Her husband left her for her best friend. Yowza. I realized once again that no matter how bad things may seem...someone, somewhere, always has it worse. I could not imagine going through this without Matt's support. I know that when I come out of this tunnel, my family will still be there at the other side. She also had a doubl

With 72 hours left with "the girls," I woke up today thinking of what I can do with them that they hadn't ever done before. But I looked at my list of things I need to do before Friday, and realized that I have a months worth of stuff to do in just 3 days. I spent all morning cleaning and running errands. This afternoon, I picked up Jess and we headed back to Dr. Griffin's (or, as Jess says, Dr. Awesome ) office for my first pre-op appointment of the week. This visit was a complete mixture of fear and excitement. The before and after pictures of prior patients who had the same surgery are beyond impressive. I've seen them before, but they amaze me every time. In 1-3 years, the scarring should be gone and I will look as good as new! However, he threw in a few pictures of how I'm going to look immediately following surgery. There were quite a few tubes and drains there that I wish I didn't know about. Unfortunately, it's going to be pretty ugly for a w

When I signed on for parenthood, I knew there were going to be some dicey conversations with my kids eventually. I wasn't expecting them to come so soon. Nor was I expecting to ever have to tell my 4 year old that I have cancer. Matt and I were waiting for the right time to tell Reagan, and when I was feeling strong enough to do it without crying. Reagan is the kind of kid who does well with anything if she is expecting it. She doesn't like things sprung on her - especially bad things. So we knew we had to tell her this weekend. At Target this morning I found a book about a little girl whose Mommy has cancer. The book is fantastic actually with just the right amount of detail for a pre-school age kid. So Matt and I sat her down before lunch and told her that my boobie was sick (she was very inquisitive the day of the biopsy so this wasn't "new" news to her). We told her the doctors are going to make me all better, but that I have to go to the hospital for a few

Today I'm feeling so lucky - for so many reasons. I've always known that I have a great family (both by birth and by marriage) and amazing friends, and I'm not surprised by everyone's response as of late, but I am so deeply touched. The outpouring of love and support, whether by email, text, phone calls, or cards has meant more to me than anyone will ever know. I always seem to get a message or package when I am starting to feel down, or worried, or just scared. It's like everyone knows, and takes turns reaching out with support. And without fail, I'm immediately lifted back up. These gestures will never be forgotten, and I can only hope to pay this forward someday. Another reason why I'm so lucky - genetic testing is NEGATIVE!! There was no sign of a gene mutation in my DNA. My ovaries have been granted a temporary pardon. But the boobs have still got to go! This is also good news for my sweet girls. While they will still need to start having mammograms a

In the mail yesterday was a package from Dr. Griffin's office containing all of my pre op info. I always get excited when packages come in the mail, and this one was no different. I opened it immediately and was awed with all of the information inside. I have to arrive at the hospital at 6:30 am on D Day. Surgery is scheduled to begin at 7:30. Dr. Griffin already told me it should last about 8 hours. For a second I was thinking how 8 hours may be the most sleep I've had in one stretch since September 2006 when Reagan was born! Unfortunately, he said I won't wake up feeling rested. Bummer. The next several pages were full of all of the "do's" and "don't's" in the 2 weeks leading up to surgery. At first it was just lists of what medicines I can't take, which is everything except for Tylenol. Good thing I'm not a pill popper anyway! But then I got into the list of foods and beverages I'm not supposed to eat. Included on the list

We have a date. January 21, 2011 - Dooblay Day. I think I may vomit. Okay, so several hours have passed since I got the official word. At first they said Feb 9th, which seemed so far away. Then the call came in that it was moved up to Jan. 21st, and now that seems so soon. I guess the reality is that regardless of the date...having a date makes this whole thing a reality.  I spent the afternoon at work feeling sick to my stomach. This isn't just a bad dream. It's not going away. In 10 days, I will be having major surgery and two lovely body parts removed. I left work a bit early to get some extra cuddle time in with my girls. After a heated tickle war with them, a fantastic shrimp and pasta dinner courtesy of Matt, and two glasses of homemade Portuguese wine (which, by the way, is outstanding) my nerves are much calmer. I held back the tears all day at work, and then on the drive home they started to break through. I realized that I've always really liked my body just

I woke up this morning very irritable. I would say I don't know why, but clearly I have a pretty good idea. I'm trying to really enjoy the next few weeks with my girls (both my children, and my "girls") and keep life as normal as possible. But as I lay on the couch with Reagan on one side, and Charlotte on the other, watching Saturday morning cartoons..I can't help but tear up knowing that in a few weeks, they won't be able to lay on me for a very long time. Okay, okay... 4-6 weeks isn't a VERY long time... but it is when your babies are young and you know how fast they grow up. I am desperately going to miss Charlie girl sitting on my lap, sticking her face in mine and saying "Hi Mommy!" about 80 times every 10 minutes. I'm going to miss my Reagy snuggling up and letting me play with her hair while we chat and watch tv. Knowing life is about to change makes it hard for me to be completely normal right now. But I'm trying. The other r

Today's trip to the Cancer Center for genetic testing reminded me exactly why I failed Biology class in High School. I cannot, for the life of me, understand science. Yet in the situation I'm facing, I am completely amazed and astounded by what scientists can do these days. And I am beyond grateful for all of the work they have done over the years in Cancer research. The way they conduct the test itself is just mind blowing. I had to swish Scope (Yes, the mouthwash) around in my mouth for 30 seconds and spit it into a cylinder. Twice. Then I had to run my tongue along my gums and cheeks for 10 seconds and spit into the cylinder twice. With that, they will be able to tell if I test positive for the BRCA I or BRCA II gene mutation. And with that, I walked out with some mighty minty breath. But, because science isn't just cut and dried like I wish it was (because then I may have been able to pass that damn class), the results come back either "positive" - meaning

My life feels so surreal. I have had more doctor appointments this week than I had in 2010 total. And I know this is just the beginning... My sister in law (and great friend) Jess picked me up bright and early this morning to chauffeur me around. Our first stop was the plastic surgeon's office. Dr. Griffin was even better than I remembered from Monday. I guess it wasn't his fault that he met with us at the end of the marathon appointment session, when my focus was already lost. So today's meeting was much more informative for me, and I feel like we really have a plan. We're going to move forward with the transflap procedure. (Yes, I previously referred to it as "flanks" when in fact they are "flaps" - I rest my case in my inability to discuss anything related to medicine or science) He will take the fat from my belly and use that to reconstruct my breasts. I'm seriously shocked that I won't be walking out of there with D cups... but he stil

Wow. I feel like I ran a marathon without taking a single step. We went to the Cancer center for my 1:15 appt yesterday. We didn't leave until almost 5. I walked in feeling sick to my stomach and terrified. I left feeling confident and thankful, yet still terrified. Nothing about this is easy, yet Matt and I will find a joke at every turn. It's how we deal...it's how we cope. So our appointment was long and tiring, yet also full of laughter and positivity. We first met with Dr. Metkus, my breast surgeon. She was warm and welcoming, and so very nice. She was matter of fact, and not quick to tell me what I *have* to do, but rather what my options are. She let it be known that there are still factors we don't know ... exactly how big the tumor is and what stage I'm in (mammogram puts it at over 2 cm which is automatically Stage II, while the ultrasound shows it at 1.7 cm - or Stage 1), if the tumor is estrogen positive, etc. She talked about future testing - I have

Oh Monday, how I usually loathe you. Yet since Thursday all I did was wish you were here. I feel a mixture of nausea, anxiousness, and determination. I woke up feeling better than I have since the biopsy last Tuesday. I have faith that we will receive confirmation today that this cancer was caught early. We HAVE to get that confirmation. So with my newfound calm demeanor, I sit here pondering what to wear to my marathon dr. appointments today. Do I go super comfy? Or dress it up a bit? I know the doctors are going to help me regardless, but in the way back of my mind I feel like I need them to really like me. To make them want to help the cute, young girl just a bit more. I know this is all nonsense, and just a good excuse to get my mind off the facts of the matter. But seriously.. just because I have cancer doesn't mean I can't be cute.... right??

 On Dec 15, 2010, I went in for a baseline mammogram. My mom was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 48, so my GP wanted me to be extra cautious. I figured "why not?!" Can't hurt, right?! The first thing the ladies at the breast center told me was that most first timers get called back for more pictures, and to NOT worry if that happened. So on Dec 17, when they called to say they needed more pictures, I didn't bat an eye. I promptly scheduled another mammogram for Dec 28 and didn't think twice about it. Dec 28 rolled around quickly and I actually forgot about my appointment until I got to work that day. I had used deodorant, perfume, and lotion..all "no no's" when getting a mammogram. I called and tried to re schedule, but they said it was no problem and to come in anyway. Two hours later I started to worry. They said they only needed pictures of my right breast. Hmmm... okay.. I thought. Then, they said I needed to have an ultrasound. I kept as