Treatment #1 Down...and so am I

Ok, so no one said this was going to be a walk in the park, but I have only had one treatment and I feel like butt...lol. On Friday I showed up with bells on to receive my first round of Taxotere and Cytoxan, no big deal. Me and mom sat for three and a half hours as the medication ran its course. The port is a wonderful invention, one stick and no discomfort...I am all for that. And honestly, I left thinking that this was just as easy as could be. We got lunch, went home and I layed down. The whole weekend was a blur. The only way I can describe how I felt, and how I continue to feel, is like when you are just coming down or getting over the flu. Foggy head, tired, food has no appeal, just want to lay down but can't stand being in bed...it is very strange. I know I am on edge, and not myself. As I am sitting here typing this I feel like my head is in the clouds...and not in a good way. I am hungry, but don't even want to think about food really...I have been trying to drink lots of water, to flush the drugs out, and just keep my head up. I had a breakdown on Saturday...emotions are high...feels like I am very alone and all of a sudden the strength that has carried me through kind of disappeared...I knew this was going to happen, I have expected it all along, but it doesn't make it easier...very depressed feeling. This makes me doubt myself even more, because they say the treatments only get worse....GREAT, if this is the easiest, how the hell am I gonna make it thru Decemeber?? I am not looking forward to the Neulasta injection I am scheduled for today...it ups your white cell count, but I have heard the side effects (bone pain, etc) is no fun. Wish this was more upbeat but sorry folks, just not feeling it today. Oh, and P.S. wigs suck....all of them...they all look like crap...just FYI.

Losing my security blanket

With my first chemo treatment just 3 days away I knew it was time. I needed to cut my hair. OK, so you are thinking big deal, right? It's hair...it grows back. Well, to me, my hair is a symbol of my youth...of memories...it's part of me. I think the idea of losing my hair is WAY more horrific than losing my boobs. Long hair = Jessica...period...always. I have never had a short haircut, so maybe that is why it's a very difficult concept to get used to. Either way, my hair is going to fall out anyways...right? So, off I went to the hairdresser. By the way, if you live in my neck of the woods you NEED this guys phone number...Bobby is a miracle worker and has an eye for finding your perfect individual cut/style. So, I put myself in his very capable hands....and the results were better than I could have hoped for. For the next 2-3 weeks, before I become the cutest bald chick you've ever seen (hehe) I have one awesome short haircut :) And the best part of it all is the fact I could donate my hair to Locks of Love and help make a wig for a child in need.

Getting through the bad makes the good even better

The weeks following surgery were interesting, to say the least. My mom, who has had the same procedure done, kept telling me how well I was doing. In my opinion I was taking forever to heal. The hardest part of it all was not being able to hold or hug my kids. And to this day, over 4 weeks later, I still can't hold my 1 year old. I have to basically have 24/7 help to care for my little one, so my family has been taking shifts...lol...I feel like I am a child some days, but with that being said I wouldn't change my family for the world. They have pretty much sacrificed their own normal lives to make mine function day to day, and I will forever be grateful for everything they have done and continue to do. That includes the benefit they put together to help raise funds for my treatment and awareness for the cause. Everything went so well, and it made me stop worrying so much about the loss of my income and focus more on my recovery and health. It's hard to ignore the fact that you will lose 1/3 of your income for at least 6 months because you can't work your normal 60 hours a week...pretty scary actually...I started picturing us living in the streets for a minute. But a million thanks to all the friends, family, co-workers, and strangers that have donated their time and money to make sure me and my children don't have to have those fears. There are so many thoughts that go through your head when something like this happens. On top of financial fears (which was one of my biggest) another was how am  I ever going to date again? Don't get me wrong, I know this is not my main problem right now...lol...but in the grand scheme of things I am only 27 years old, and eventually one day I would like to have a boyfriend...but I don't think there is a big market for bald chicks with no boobs who have chemotherapy and radiation treatments covering their calenders...lol. I have to keep constantly reminding myself that after this is all done I will grow my hair back, I will have surgery for implant placement, and I won't always have a never-ending schedule of doctor visits. This too shall pass. So, in the meantime I take it one step at a time...this past weekend was my son's first birthday and it was just amazing watching him around his family, all smiles, and just loving every minute of the day. It's those moments that make you realize why you fight, why you go thru all the bad to get to the good, why each day and each minute is precious...these are the important things in life.

What do you mean I am not here for a pedicure??

July 21st, 2010 - Surgery day had arrived. I was scheduled to go in for a bilateral mastectomy with tissue expander placement for reconstruction, and placement of a port for chemotherapy. When the nurse checked me in and read over the various procedures with me to confirm that I knew what I was having done I joked with her "What? You mean I'm not here for a pedicure?" At first she didn't know how to take my humor, but then she realized I was in good spirits, and she laughed. That was pretty much how the whole day went...no one really knew how to take my mood. The only way I can explain how I felt that day was calm. I woke up with the mind set that this is what I have to do, this is what I am going to do, and I am going to keep my spirits up as much as possible through it all. But I couldn't deny the overwhelming peaceful feeling that went through me, and continues to run through me every day since surgery. I know where the credit is due....all the prayers everyone was saying for me and God's amazing power was the reason I found my strength. I have never experienced anything like it before, and I will always be the first to attest to the power of prayer from now on. So, as my family sat around me, waiting for me to be wheeled off to surgery, we talked and laughed and had the other patients wondering....why the heck is this girl so happy before surgery?? Not a single tear was shed that day...well, not by me at least...and I went into that operating room knowing that this was the beginning of a long journey, but one that will make me much stronger in the end. And I found it kind of ironic, that one month exactly before my son's first birthday I was having a surgery done that wasn't part of my "Things to Do" list one month ago. And I also thought it was funny, 11 months ago I was having a c-section, today I was having a mastectomy....when do I get my pedicure??

Out of body experience

The long anticipated results came on July 7th, while I was sitting at my desk. When I answered the phone to hear not the nurses voice, but my doctor's voice, on the other end. This was not a good sign. "Hello Jessica, I know it must have been hard waiting so long for these results....as you probably guessed it is a malignant tumor, so we are going to send you to a specialist and get a treatment plan together." Any other time I would have been furious that a doctor would be so calm while giving that kind of news, and on the phone none the less....but not this time. This doctor knew my family history as well as I did, and I am sure, in her mind, it was only a waiting game before this news was given to me. Before hanging up the phone the doctor even offered to help babysit, if I needed it, which I thought was sweet and comical all at the same time. Who's doctor does that? The doctor of a 26 year old single mom who has just been diagnosed with breast cancer I guess.  So, what did I do? I hung up the phone and cried my eyes out, right there at my desk...then, I got in my car and drove to go get my kids like any other day. The next couple of weeks were a blur...doctors appointments, talking to family and friends,  planning for surgery, and trying to live life normally at the same time. The whole time it felt like an out of body experience, and I guess that is a good thing because it helped get me to the operating room in one piece, without completely losing my mind...well, sort of.

4th of July

I have always liked the fourth of July. It's not my favorite holiday of all, but it has a certain special feeling associated with it. It meant an extra day off from work, pool parties, BBQ's, and, of course, fireworks. Ever since I was younger fireworks were always very emotional for me. Don't ask me why, I really don't know, sounds kind of silly actually. My first real memory of 4th of July was watching the fireworks in downtown Chicago, against the beautiful skyline. Then, jump about 5 years and I remember me and my best friend, Delorean, sneaking away to watch the fireworks with our boyfriends...two pairs of 13 year olds, holding hands at the park, thinking they were "in love" lol. I have watched the fireworks with my mom, dad, sister ,brother, cousins...I have watched them with my husband and my daughter, I have watched them thru a rainstorm, two years ago, in the car next to my Grandma, the year before she passed away. And this year, as I watched them with my 6 year old daughter and 10 month old son, I fought the tears. Not only because this was my first 4th of July ever as a single woman, or because this was Aiden's first time seeing the awesome colors and sounds (I am a sucker for babies first holidays) but because of all this and the fact I was waiting on biopsy results that would decide my fate. I had gone in for my mammogram, and before I could even leave the office they had ordered the biopsy to be done. Not a very pleasant procedure, the ultrasound guided biopsy took about 30 minutes to complete and left me in enough pain that I was wondering how I was going to hold my 20 lb son for the next couple days. When the very experienced doctor....and by that I mean old...said "It doesn't really look good" I started to think this might be more serious than an enlarged cyst....so now I was waiting, over the loooong holiday weekend, for test results that could make or break me. Just another reason the 4th of July will always be memorable I guess...

Typical Thursday...work, shower, and find a lump...

I will remember it for the rest of my life...and not in the good way I will remember things like the births of my children, or Christmas with my family...but in a way that makes my heart sink. I was rushing around, as usual. It was 3:00pm on Thursday June 17th and I had just left one job to get ready to go to the next. I was in the shower and something just didn't feel normal. I found a fairly big lump in my right breast that, I swear, must have grown overnight. First thought...I don't have time for this! Honestly, that was my first thought. In my head I already knew I was going to be headed to get a mammogram, ultrasound and MRI...just for them to tell me it was probably some cyst that got enlarged from breast feeding some months ago...and I just didn't have time to slow down right now. I had only been in my own place for 4 months, and I couldn't afford to take time off work for all of that. And after that first couple seconds of random thoughts faded away, my rational side kicked in. Of course I was going to call the doctor first thing in the morning and go through the steps I needed to. It's hard to ignore things like this when your family history stares you in the face everyday. My mom was only 34 years old when she was first diagnosed with breast cancer, and then 42 when it re-occurred on the other side. She is one of a long list of Aunts, Cousins, Great Aunts, etc. that have gone done the breast cancer road. And, knowing my family history from an early age, I had already gotten the BRAC Gene Testing done. I was 22 years old when I found out that I was 87% pre-determined to develop breast cancer in my lifetime due to a mutated gene. That information is hard to wrap your thoughts around, but in my mind I still had time...hell, I was in my twenties, I just had a baby 10 months ago, I was just transitioning into a very independent, wonderful part of my life...of course I had time, it's not like this could be cancer...So, I got dressed, and headed off to work my 9 hour shift at the bar, not really thinking about the WHAT IF's.