Big Whoop

The next big thing. The mastectomy is scheduled for Tuesday, October 14 at 8:00 am. Alan keeps telling me that I need to catch up on the blog, but aside from that little piece of info there is nothing else going on. In fact, I don't even know how I feel about that. Am I supposed to be scared that I am having surgery? Or happy that I finally get a breast reduction (however radical it may be)? Or sad to see them go? Worried that it's too soon? Not soon enough? I don't know what to think. Most of the time I don't think about cancer, I think about my sister. Everything reminds me of her. This morning Alan ran in a 5k for some 'corporate challenge' thing for work. I had the kids and while we walked around passing the time music was playing over the loud speakers. Some rad Milli Vanilli song came on (Girl You Know It's True) and when the part that says..."I'm in love with you, girl 'cause you're on my mind, you're the one I think about most every time..." I swear I could hear her fake rapping as if she were right there next to me. I laughed out loud as we walked along but now it makes me cry. Milli Vanilli was one of her first cd's and sadly, we all knew the album well. How am I supposed to think about anything else? I miss her so much. Cancer is a stinking nuisance.

The Results are in...

During Monday's sentinel node biopsy, lymph nodes were removed from each side, leaving a two inch incision in each armpit. Nice. Guess I won't be shaving there anytime soon. Anyway, one lymph node was removed from the right side (it was cancer free) and three from the left. They found cancer in one of the three lymph nodes and in the surrounding lymphatic tissue. Super. So after talking to Dr. Nate (breast surgeon) and Dr. Logie (oncologist) this is most likely our new plan of action. Hold on to your lymph nodes, folks- this totally threw me for a loop.

1.Bi-lat mastectomy, sometime in the next couple weeks
(no real reconstruction at this time, but they will put in some type of 'expander' under the skin just so you won't just see ribs, there will be "some sort of small mound, if you will"-Dr. Nate's words)

2.Then, chemotherapy. Four treatments of something called AC (Alan says that stands for 'Awesome Chemo'), one treatment given once every two weeks. Then 12 treatments of 'T' that is given once a week.

3. Next, Radiation. I love this one. This has the super convenient schedule of being 2 minutes a day, every day, for at least four weeks. Let's just stop to think about this for a second. We're talking a 40min round trip to the doctor's office for 120 seconds of treatment, every day for four weeks!

4. Now this really is my favorite part. Reconstruction! And if all goes well and the radiation doesn't turn the skin on my chest to beef jerky, I can also get a tummy tuck compliments of our insurance company. (It's called a tram flap. They use your belly fat and tissue to make new breasts. How awesome is that?)

Let's recap. Surgery. Recovery. 20 weeks of chemo. 4 weeks of radiation. Surgery. Recovery.

I should have a date for the surgery sometime next week.

Beth

Out of commission

Beth can not post her experiences with losing a few lymph nodes today because she is too busy asking, "Did I say that out loud?" - when in fact she didn't say a thing. She is also preoccupied with asking people to scratch her nose, complaining that ceiling is moving and dealing with all the pampering I am giving her.

She will post all of the fun experiences of having NUCLEAR MEDICINE injected into her body at a later time.

Bye-

Alan

Pre-Surgery Surgery

So, on Monday I have a little pre-surg surg. When we met with the plastic surgeon he said that they couldn't schedule the bi-lateral mastectomy/reconstruction surgery until we were sure about the health of the lymph nodes. So Monday morning I get to be injected with a little radioactive waste of some kind which is then to travel through the lymph nodes to see how they're functioning. It's about a two hour surgery (under general anesthesia, blech). It should take about two days to get the results back. This is what it means ...

A. No cancer in the lymph nodes-
We go ahead with the bi-lat mastectomy/reconstruction surgery asap. Chemotherapy yes, but no radiation.

B. Cancer in the lymph nodes-
Bi-lat mastectomy. Then radiation. Then reconstruction and chemo. Apparently, the skin and tissue that they use for the reconstruction doesn't hold up well to radiation. Go figure. Anyway it shrinks and becomes all asymmetrical distorted and funky. Not pretty.

I seriously don't understand. If we know that that it screws with the body that much, why is this even a recommended procedure? It's like when I had my PET scan and I really wanted Alan to come with me and they said he couldn't because once they inject the contrast I would be radioactive and it wouldn't be safe for him to sit in the same room as me. Really?! Huh. So it's fine for them to inject it directly into my bloodstream but too dangerous for someone to sit with me. Huh. You'd think they were trying to give me cancer or something.

The Boob Doctor

So I know this is Beth's Blog, but the Mowrey 500 blog is a 100% cancer free blog. No cancer talk on that blog allowed. But, I had to share my experience with our appointment with the Plastic Surgeon this morning.

I was told we were going to discuss options for her new boobs. I thought it was going to be alot of pictures and maybe some videos - so I was in for sure.

What I wasn't in for was all the gory details of how this whole thing is going to take place. Pretty graphic. I actually got lightheaded listening to the doctor. In fact, I was getting so lightheaded I almost asked if I could use one of the silicone implants the Doctor had on display as a pillow.


The worst part? No pictures. No videos. Nothing. Unless you're counting the doctor's poor artistic drawing of a pair of boobies.


A few other notes about this visit:


In general, if something has a "less than 1% chance of happening" no need to throw it out there as a something that could go wrong.


This doctor was freaking me out with all the things he was telling us COULD go wrong with this type of procedure. Hey, there is a less than 1% chance that the ceiling could collapse on Beth's head during surgery - wonder why he didn't cover that?


One last thing - I didn't find it weird that the doctor had to take a picture of Beth's boobs for his records. What was weird though, is that he used his cell phone camera to take the picture.

Summary: It's going to be a 10 hour surgery and our doctor now has a 10.2 mega pixel picture of my wife's breasts. Good times.

Good news

Beth got the results back from the PET scan today. I have no idea what that test is. All I know is that it came back with good results. I think the test was to see if her cancer had spread to any other part of her body. There is some suspicion about other breast - the test showed something there, but they couldn't determine what it is. Doesn't matter -both those babies are coming off.

Next appointment: Plastic Surgeon on Thursday to discuss reconstruction. Good times.

Good night.

Alan

The Freak Out

This is going to sound really strange, but when the doctor first told me that I had cancer, I really didn't have much of a reaction. I even hung up the phone and then finished the days reading of Beauty and the Beast with Ella before I called Alan. It's not like I didn't cry. I did. I cried when I told Alan, and I cried again when he got home. I cried another time that day thinking about how I am totally burdening my children. At first I thought that it just hadn't sunk in yet and that was why the lack of emotion. So I thought 'well, I'm pretty calm today, but that's just because we don't really have any information yet. Tomorrow (friday), when we meet with the doctor and he tells us exactly what this is and what we will have to do, then I'll probably lose it'. Nope. Nothing. Just peace, and a very matter-of-fact, let's-get-it-done, checklist sort of thinking. All in all I think we've been handling everything pretty well. So when they phoned today to give me the results of Monday's breast MRI (funny story... I should dedicate a post just for that procedure. Hillarious.) and said that they would consequently like to schedule an ultrasound I was a little confused. I asked why, when they had already done two and we're already doing the surgery, what could they have possibly found that would matter? Of course the poor receptionist had no idea. I asked if the ultrasound was for the left or right breast. She said it was for the right. This really shouldn't have been a big deal. I had already decided on the double mastectomy (anybody that knows me well, knows that I hate my boobs). Logically this result doesn't change anything (and really who knows if there is anything there anyway? They just want to look at the right side.). But after mulling it over all day long, I crawled into bed tonight and completely freaked out. Poor Alan. I bawled and bawled. I tried to explain but it just doesn't make all that much sense. Even to me and they are my feelings. I feel like I don't have control over the situation anymore. I found the lump the first time. It was by my doing that it was being checked out. As a result of my actions this diagnosis was made. See how I have everything under control? Maybe this is lesson #1 in a huge long line of lessons...

I have no control. Only God is in control. I was blessed with peace in the beginning, so why should I not feel the same peace now? It's not like this is a suprise to Him, right? As I am writing this, I keep thinking of 2nd Nephi chapter 4.

O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever.
I will not put my trust in the arm of flesh; for I know that cursed is he that
putteth his trust in the arm of flesh. Yea, cursed is he that putteth his
trust in man or maketh flesh his arm.

I started this post because I couldn't sleep after my big freak. I didn't quite know where it was going to take me. Luckily, I type terribly slow and have calmed down quite a bit. In any case I am glad that it has taken me here. Now I can sleep. Goodnight.

The Unexpected

As Alan puts it, "I gots the cancer".

I found a lump in my left breast a few weeks ago and went to the doctor to have it checked out. She said she really didn't think it was a big deal (and neither did I) but they don't like to take any chances. She sent me to a clinic to get a mammogram, ultrasound, and a biopsy. When my eyeballs bugged out of my head at the word 'biopsy' she said "Oh no no no no. Don't you worry. This needle is so small. It's like what diabetics use for their insulin. It's so tiny, it's like a hair." Well, that was a huge relief. I could handle that. So off I go to the clinic. First, the mammogram. For those of you who may not have had the pleasure, let me enlighten you. Naked from the waist up. A machine that opens it's mouth wide enough for your nurse to position your boobs on it's shelf in a very specific sort of way. When she is pleased enough with her work she offers you up as a sacrifice. The jaw begins to lower on you. Lower. Lower. Lower. And just before the pressure is so great that you're sure it's going squeeze them off altogether, the beast stops and the sugary sweet voice of the nurse says, "Don't breath, don't move." like she's singing a song. She snaps the picture and then it starts all over again. She only took two the first time and then left to show them to the doctor. He was obviously not pleased because she came back to do more. I'm not sure if they thought I had a background in circus work but she put me into positions that only acrobats and contortionists are qualified to perform. Next came the ultrasound. Now at least it didn't hurt. However, there is something rather humiliating about having a male doctor, well in his 60's, hose your boobs down with gel and rub a camera on them. I didn't focus on that for long as I quickly became aware that he was no longer looking at the one lump, but four, all in different places on the left breast. After de-gooping myself, he told me that he really didn't think it was anything serious. He thought because of my age (32) and the fact that there were four masses, it was probably fibroadenoma (doctor speak for benign tumors in the breasts), although with the new findings he thought it would be better for a breast surgeon to do the biopsy. Great. Another appointment. A week later I'm in the surgeons office. He also starts off with a boob ultrasound, only this time it is just slightly more embarrassing because he is 30 something. Anyway, he said he is going to biopsy two of the lumps. This is where I spare the squeamish. Let me just say that unless Monstro the Whale is the diabetic, I can't see the insulin needle being a spring loaded gun with and 8 inch hollow metal pipe attached. Seriously. The biopsy was a week ago tomorrow and I am still black and blue. I think it's my fault though. I think I just should have asked more questions. Like when she said "like what diabetics use", I should have asked "like human diabetics or diabetics from the planet Gigantor?" Oh well, lesson learned. This all happened on Tuesday and on Thursday the surgeon called me with the results.

Although this has come as an incredible shock to Alan and I, we can't help but feeling that this is all in God's plan for us and this is going to be a wonderful blessing for our family. Truly. We have been blessed with such unwavering peace from the very beginning that it would be impossible to feel otherwise. As a sweet friend recently reminded me, we need to view our trials as gifts and an opportunity to grow. We are looking forward to strengthening our family, ourselves, and our testimonies of Jesus Christ throughout this experience. We are so blessed.