Cancer Update – To Boob or Not to Boob

[In this post I will talk about my boobs, curse, and mention/show photos of gross medical things. You have been warned. J ]

 

After all my surgeries and treatments last year, I decided that I wouldn’t get reconstruction. I had great reasons. In one year I’d had five surgeries, and didn’t want any more. I’m not a super vain person, so I didn’t think I’d care about having boobs. I also didn’t want to spend thousands and thousands of dollars on something that is seen as cosmetic. I mean, who needs boobs anyway?

 

But after six months of weighing the pros and cons, I’ve come to the decision. I WANT BOOBS!

What changed my mind? Let’s take it point by point. 

VANITY – There is a cold cap device that you can wear during Chemo that helps you keep your hair. It costs hundreds of dollars to rent. My first thought was, who cares? I just don’t want to die. Why would anyone waste their money? Well, let me tell you, when you’re bald and underweight and basically look like the crypt keeper, it’s not really about being vain. It’s about feeling like yourself.  I had the same reservations about reconstruction. Could I live without boobs? Yeah. Sure. Of course I could. But I decided that it would be a huge step toward feeling like myself again.

[Here's a picture of one of the crappier moments...but I got through it!]

 

[Here is me looking super confused on how to ring a bell after completion of my chemotherapy!]

 

SURGERY – Sigh. So many fucking surgeries. I have a ga-billion doctors and now I can add two plastic surgeons to the mix. For the reconstruction, I will have a major initial surgery in which they remove the skin and fat from my stomach and make a boob out of it. Gross, right? Oh, but it gets better. Since I don’t really have a nice big tummy, they will then have to suck the fat out of other bits of me and seed the fat cells into my new boob. I’ll have to do this at least three times. So why bother? As my awesome surgeon told me, I’m young. I can take it. I might have 50 or so years left. I shouldn't let fear of surgeries make the decision for me.

 

MONEY – Having cancer not only sucks, but it’s super expensive. I had so many people donate money to me the first time around, it made a huge difference. Reconstruction is no different. The estimate for the surgery is between forty to fifty thousand. I’m lucky to have insurance and they’ll pay for most of it, but my out of pocket costs will still be in the thousands…not to mention down time. So once again I am going to beg for money. I started a campaign on GoFundMe and if you can donate anything at all, I will be immensely grateful. You can also brag that you helped buy me boobs.

I wanted a fundraiser gauge that was a boob but I couldn’t find one! Anyone know how I can get one...or a pink ribbon will do, I suppose.

And even if you can't offer financial support (believe me, I get it) feel free to post about your journey. Survivor stories are always welcome!

 

 

Cancer Update: One Year Later and Still Kicking!

One year ago I was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer. You can find my original post here. If you get riled by f-bombs...probably don't read it. Actually, just stop reading this post too. I might throw a few in later. I like to keep my options open.

So, It’s been a while since I posted one of these cancer updates because, well, if there’s anything else to focus on besides cancer, I chose to focus on that! J

What has happened cancer-wise in this past year? Well, let’s see… diagnosis, surgery, chemo, being bald, a nasty infection, hospitalization, more surgery, radiation (which caused, what I like to call “localized zombie skin”), and even more surgery. Not that any sane person would think otherwise, but having cancer fucking sucks.

Last week I had my year check-in MRI, and everything came back clear!

 
Now, what does this mean for me? Well, I still have a lifetime of check-ups, medication, and that nagging worry at the back of my mind that my cancer is back. Also I can’t say, “I have cancer!” when I don’t want to do something, or to guilt my husband into doing dishes. But…upside…

 

I NO LONGER HAVE CANCER!!!!

I know I often babble on about the awesome YA community, but everyone has been so supportive, it’s hard not to. My family, my friends, even acquaintances of acquaintances were all amazing.

 So that’s what’s up with me…and fingers crossed this is the last cancer update from me. Ever.

Cancer Update – Genetic Testing

As part of my cancer treatment plan I underwent genetic testing for 80 known cancer genes. At first it seemed a bit pointless to me, I mean, I already have fracking cancer, who cares if I have the gene?

 

Well, it came back that I do have one cancer gene. It’s the BRCA1 gene, and it’s a doozy. It increases the chances that you’ll get breast cancer to 70%. Also if you get breast cancer, you have a 40% chance of getting it again. It also increases your chances of ovarian cancer from 1% to 40%.

 

So way back whenever, when I skimmed the article about Angelina Jolie getting genetic testing done, then deciding to get a double mastectomy and having her ovaries removed, I thought, crazy person. Who would do that? Now my judgy-ass-self totally understands. Being aggressive and preemptive is totally understandable when it come to not having to deal with cancer.

 

I also think it’s nice to have something to point at and blame. Before I was wondering what I did wrong? Why did I get breast cancer so young? I mean, I did drink a lot of diet soda in my twenties. Or maybe it was all that hormone filled dairy products I ate. And there was that one time I stood in front of the microwave for a really long time. But no. It’s this one crappy crappy gene.

 

Other then, you know, the cancer, I’m doing really well. Working on my next book and reading a ton. I’ll post more soon! And thanks again everyone for all your support.

Cancer Update – Chemo Edition

First off, I want to say thank you to everyone who donated to my youcaring fund. When Mindy and Kate suggested starting one to help with treatment costs I was a bit doubtful that it would be successful. Boy, was I wrong. I am not a crier, but when I saw how many people donated/offered words of support, well, let’s just say there were water works.

 

Since my last post I’ve started chemo and let me tell you, it’s not like in the movies/TV. First of all, they don’t line you up in one big depressing cancer room. Where I’m at there are nice little private cubicles with TVs and big comfy chairs that heat up and have a massage function. No joke.

 

I was shocked at how nice it all was. They also don’t inject the medicine into the veins in your arms. I had a chemo port installed, which is a device placed under the skin in the chest with a tube that flows directly into a major artery. So while I may not end up with a bionic boob, I am on my way to becoming a cyborg. After they hook you up (they call it accessing your port) they pump you full of chemicals (one of mine is candy apple red) and that’s that!

 

Honestly, for the first few days after my first treatment I felt normal. Then the next few days I felt super gross…like I was hung over from the worst bender ever. Then I felt normal again.

 

Today is my second session. I’m not sure when I’ll post another cancer update, but I’ll definitely still be posting book stuff, and of course my 2016 favorites list in January.

 

I hope everyone has a great holiday, and thank you again for all your support and encouragement!!!

My Cancer Diagnosis – How My Left Breast is Trying to Kill Me

[Warning: In this post I talk about my boob. A lot. I also curse and talk about medical things, so if you’re squeamish, probably skip this.]

 

About six weeks ago, after experiencing a sharp random pain in my left breast, I found a lump. My first thoughts: HOLY SHIT, I HAVE CANCER. After an hour of online research I calmed down. I’m young and cancer doesn’t usually hurt. It doesn’t make your breast swell to twice the normal size. It doesn’t come on suddenly. Self diagnosis, I convinced myself I had a cyst. They’re common in my family.

 

I went to my doctor who also agreed it was probably a cyst but ordered a mammogram and ultrasound just to be sure. I was still convinced it was a cyst. Up until the moment when the big boss radiologist came into the room and she told me that I had three solid masses in my breast and one in my armpit. My thoughts at that moment? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

 

Back to HOLY SHIT, I HAVE CANCER. Because although I’m not a pessimist, I am a realist. They don’t order a biopsy for no reason. A single mass in my breast may be benign, but three? And one already in my lymh node? Yeah, that has got to be fucking cancer. I called my sister to warn her. She cried. I told her not to cry. She cried some more. My husband and I talked about what to do if it was cancer and decided not to fuck around. To do whatever it took to get better.

 

The next day I had to go back for a biopsy. I needed four total and for each one they covered the spot in iodine, gave me a numbing shot, and shoved a super long needle with nifty vacuum suction action to take samples. Then they put a titanium marker in the spot to show where the sample was taken. (Yeah, was hoping it would make my boob bionic, but sadly, no.)

 

Rinse, repeat. The whole thing took four hours. Then they did another mammogram to make sure the markers were in place. If you don’t know about mammograms, they are not gentle. They took my already punctured, aching breast and placed it in a big machine where it was squished between two glass plates. Then they needed the side view. My poor boob was not happy.

 

Fast forward to Saturday, ten days ago. My doctor calls. I know it must be awesome news because, what doctor doesn’t love to call patients on a Saturday? Well, the cells were malignant and at 35 years of age, HOLY SHIT, I HAVE CANVER.

 

I’m starting chemo next week. I don’t know how I’ll react, so though I’ll probably be around on social media, I might not always respond right away if at all. I’m going to conserve my energy to work on my latest contracted novel.

 

 

So how am I feeling? Angry but hopeful. I have a great cancer team and am otherwise healthy. I have a good chance of coming out of this less one boob, but very much alive. Please share your stories of cancer survival for yourself/friends/and family. I would love to hear them!