Cancer-Free:)

Yesterday, I saw Dr. T2 and he told me that I am officially cancer-free! And all this time, I was thinking that the hysterectomy hadn't worked! BUT, he still thinks I should consider having radiation therapy because it may lower my risk of recurrence. I've already made up my mind to do it. He told me that my treatment will probably begin around Valentine's Day. Side effects are usually fatigue by the 3rd week, as well as some bladder issues, and maybe diarrhea. He thinks that it will be a 4-5 week ordeal, during which I would show up for radiation treatment every business day for that period and have about "a minute" of radiation. Sounds wonderfully short and easy. I'm crossing my fingers that my side-effects will be minimal.

I also saw my urologist, Dr. D yesterday. He was super nice and told me that he would be removing the stint from my ureter in 5 weeks. It will be a fast and painless process in his office, requiring no anesthetic. Apparently, it's harder to insert than remove. He also removed my leg bag, and his nurse, R, showed me how to self-cath myself. I feel so free without the leg bag! Also, I self-cathed myself several times since and I can already feel that bladder is getting stronger, though I still have some bladder retention. Actually, the first time I self-cathed myself, it went well until I started experiencing bladder cramps and spasms. I think I must have inserted the catheter too far in and bumped the stint. R warned me about this. The cramps were incredibly painful and when I called in desperation, she spoke with Dr. D and he prescribed some medication to relax the bladder and numb it, but I ended up taking Ibuprofen instead, at the advice of my sister-in-law. Today, I haven't had any cramping and I've self-cathed myself successfully:)

Today, by the way, was an incredibly wonderful day. I ran errands with my Mom and felt nearly my old self. It is just so great to know that I do not have cancer in me anymore.

Hopeful about tomorrow

Tomorrow, I have 2 appointments. The first one is at 8:45am at Dr. D's office at the Urology Clinic in Portland. He's the doctor that operated on me a week ago and inserted a stint into my blocked ureter, thus relieving me of that awful pain in my left side. I can't wait to meet him. According to E and my Mom, I DID meet him, right before my surgery, but I can't remember. The last thing I remember was my anesthesiologist giving me a shot of valium, and saying that it was just to relax me. Apparently, I needed to sign a consent form for the surgery, and with Dr. D present, someone had to sit me up and somehow, in my sleep, I signed the form. I have no recollection of this - weird!

Anyway, Dr. D will probably check on my progress. I've had some unusual symptoms recently. When I move my bowels, I've noticed that I have some blood coming from my urethra, as well as from my vagina. This started happening last night, after I indulged in some Terra chips and onion dip - a leftover from my party on Friday. It's still happening a little, but otherwise, I feel fine. Well, then I also have some blood in my urine. It tends to happen if I've been moving around a lot. I'm crossing my fingers that I won't have to have a leg bag anymore. I'm officially sick of it, and don't mind having to self-cath myself now. I'll just make sure that Dr. D shows me how. Also, one thing I'll want to ask is how long I'll need to have the stint inside me, as well as, who will remove it. I'm kind've partial to Dr. D, since he did such a good job inserting it, but apparently, Dr. T2 can do it as well.

Then later in the afternoon, at 2:30pm, I have an appointment with Dr. T2 at NW Cancer Specialists. Again, I hope I won't be wearing a leg bag at that point! I actually feel the sensation of peeing occasionally, and I'm hoping that this is an indication of my bladder nerves working properly again. Dr. T2 will probably want to assess how I'm recovering, and we'll also probably want to discuss when I should begin my radiation therapy, and how long. I read last night that sometimes patients only need 3 weeks of radiation. I will want to find out the side effects of the radiation, as well. I've already read that some people have bladder and bowel disfunction - I'm praying with all my heart that this won't happen with me. Another side effect is the narrowing of the vagina, which can make intercourse painful. Hopefully, I'll be lucky this time with this treatment.

So my hope and goal tomorrow is to be able to return home to Corvallis sans leg bag, with a fully functioning bladder (or at least more confidence and ability regarding self-cathing), and with a clearer idea of how long my entire recovery is going to take. I'd like to mark on my calendar when the end of my radiation will be and then schedule some wonderful treat for myself. Not sure what yet, but I'll make sure it's worthwhile!:)

Thank You Party

Last night, my Mom and I threw a thank you party for my friends who've made me food, checked in with me, and chauffeured me around since I arrived back home in Corvallis from my surgeries. It was also a celebration of a full week without major complications that require seeing my doctor. I had 6 guests and we had the most delicious filipino food (thanks to Mom!) and played a hilarious and creative game that my friend, L, calls "the placemat game".

According to L, the game was conceived when a group of friends were waiting for a long time for their food to arrive at a restaurant. To pass the time, they invented a game using their paper placemats and a pencil. Each player starts by writing a descriptive sentence at the top of their placemat. For example, I wrote "She glided through the garden beneath a full moon and a sky pregnant with stars." Then each player hands their placemat to the person next to them. That person then must illustrate to the best of their ability the phrase at top. Then that person folds the paper in such a way that the phrase is hidden and only their drawing is visible. Then each person passes their placemat again to their neighbor. Then that person must write a caption describing the illustration. Then again, the paper is folded back so that only the caption is visible, and everyone passes their placemat to their neighbor. And so on and so on, until you've reached that bottom of the placemat and the last thing that must go on the paper is a caption. Finally, everyone unfolds their placemat and sees how the original phrase has evolved to the phrase at the bottom of the page. My original phrase evolved into the following:"She had flowers on the brain, flowers in her hair, in her clothes, and on her lawn."

When we did this revealing stage, it was just so hilarious. We went around a circle reading the phrases and showing the illustrations. I laughed so hard that my stitches hurt (but in a good way).

By the end of the evening, I was totally and pleasantly exhausted.

Reporting to my doctor (daily)

Today, I'm feeling a bit low-energy. It could be because I've still got diarrhea. This has persisted since Saturday (5 days) and I finally called Dr. T2 about it. Whenever I call there, I usually speak to V, his medical assistant. She's great to talk to. I always feel bad "bothering" Dr. T2 directly. I'm on antibiotics and V agreed with me that this may be the reason the Imodium and my adjusted "anti-diarrhea" diet hasn't been working. She said she'd tell Dr. T2 about it and call me back with advice later today. In the meantime, I've been drinking a ton of water and eating raisins, bread, applesauce, apple juice, bananas, etc.

Other than the low-energy, I've been having some slightly disturbing side-effects from my surgery last Saturday. That surgery entailed installing a stint (long flexible tube) into my blocked or swollen ureter. The stint cured the pain that that blockage was causing, but it has been irritating my muscles and ureter a little so that I feel a tenderness on my left side (not exactly painful). Also, and this is what really disturbs me, there has been occasional blood in my urine. I called Dr. T2 about this yesterday and he said that this was normal. According to him, I have a smaller frame than most women and so, my side-effects are a little more pronounced. Whatever the case, I really get the heebie jeebies when I see blood in my bladder bag.

So this week, I've literally called or emailed Dr. T2 every day since Sunday. This is appalling to me because I feel like I'm acting like a hypochondriac! But V was VERY nice to tell me that I should never feel bad calling about these things. She emphasized that they are there to help me get better. I felt a lot better after she said that.

Lists, fresh air, and good friends

Today, I started the morning with a list of things to do. Keeping busy and checking off little tasks is a great way of passing the time and getting my mind off myself and my illness. At the end of the day, I crossed out nearly all the items. Tomorrow, I'll do a little better.

One thing I've decided to do is to try to go out more, take walks as long as I have energy, and get some fresh air and new perspective. Just because I'm sick and wearing a bladder bag under my pants doesn't mean I can't wrap my long black coat around me and go out. I went for a half hour walk with my mom today. I pointed out certain homes in the area, a Christmas tree farm with baby trees all ready looking very festive, and the distant hills and mountains. Corvallis is a beautiful place to recover one's health.

And another idea I had was to try to see more of my friends socially. Of course, I'm not ready to go out with them for long periods of time, but they can always visit me and some have all ready expressed an interest in doing just this. A good friend and her 4-year-old daughter will be visiting me tomorrow afternoon. And on Wednesday evening, I've invited 2 friends from my writing group for a traditional Filipino home-cooked dinner, thanks to my Mom. It's also a way to thank them for all their help and support thus far. I'll take it easy, of course, but there's nothing like gabbing with friends to take your mind off being sick.

Surprise surgery

Last Friday, my friend drove my mom and me up to Portland to see Dr. T2 about this pain that won't seem to go away. Every night since my hysterectomy, it has been a 10, or close to it. (Hospitals like patients to rate their pain on a scale from 1 to 10.)

After I saw Dr. T2, he sent me to the hospital, which conveniently attaches to the building where his office is located. There, I endured a very long pelvic ultrasound. They only probed me from the outside and normally this would be fine if it weren't for that mysterious pain.

Once they were done, the radiologist spoke with Dr. T2 and the next thing I knew, I was being whisked off to the Admissions desk to get admitted back into the hospital. What a bummer! This time, my hospital room was a double. A curtain separated me from my first roommate, who later checked out that evening. Then was followed by my second roommate, who seemed to be a hospital veteran (all the nurses knew her).

When Dr. T2 finally arrived in my room, he told us (me, E, and my Mom) that one of my ureters was experiencing a blockage, and it was causing that pain in my left kidney. He already called a urulogist, Dr. D, who would be performing a surgery to relieve that blockage with a stint possibly. I would be having surgery at around 9:30am the next day. Dr. T2 also said that I wouldn't need to have any incisions. He would do everything through my tiny urethra. Well, no cutting was good news to me, so I settled in for an unexpected nightstay at Good Sam again.

I had a male nurse that evening and he asked me all kinds of questions, just to get up-to-date on why I was there. He could not believe that I had been enduring level 10 pains for over 2 weeks. I told him that I thought it was just part of recovering, but he told me that level of pain should never be endured. He made sure that I got enough morphine that night, even though the morphine wasn't 100% effective.

Surgery time: As before, a nurse pushed my bed-on-wheels down to the 1st floor where my anesthesiologist proceeded to joke with me. He gave me some valium, and no sooner had I kissed E and my mom, I was out. The surgery was a success, the ureter is open now with a stint, and my pain is a memory. If it weren't for my diarrhea and runny nose, I'd feel really good.

From this experience, I'm learning to not take for granted my pain levels, and to seek help whenever I'm dealing with any health issues, no matter how minor they may seem. For example, I went ahead and emailed Dr. T2 this morning, even though it's a Sunday, because I just want him to know. I asked whether I could just take some over-the-counter meds for the diarrhea at least. It's probably not a big deal, but when you have cancer, esp. a rare form of cancer, it's better to be on the safe side, I think.

E, my husband, my mom, and countless kindred spirits

E is my husband. He has helped and supported me from the beginning of this cancer ordeal, which is still in progress. I cannot express how grateful I am for his unwavering love. Last night, he helped me change from my leg bladder bag (cute handbag size) to my full-size bladder bag (this looks like a big purse) so I wouldn't have to keep emptying it during the night. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that he would be helping me with this. Even with my 5 inch belly scar, my bladder bag, my current bout with diarrhea, and my runny nose which won't stop running, we still hug and kiss and look into each other eyes and know deep in our hearts that we belong together, we're a team through the worst adversities.

Then there's my Mom, who took off from work and flew across the country to be with me and nurse me back to health. She makes my meals, makes sure I eat enough, records when I take my meds, wakes up several times during the night to empty my bladder bag or get me tissues or a glass of water. She single-handedly is packing our apartment, and very quickly and efficiently. Without her, I would be dead, or close to it. She wept with me when I learned this week that I would be needing radiation after all. That I have an extremely rare form of cervical cancer (<1% of patients get it, of course!). Radiation won't happen until 5 weeks and she has already promised to stay with me through that as well. I feel bad about keeping her here and leaning on her so much. We'll see how I feel in 5 weeks.

Then there is my sister-in-law and her family in Portland. Thanks to them, we have a place to stay when I'm visiting my Portland doctors. They have my back 100%.

Then there are all my friends here and in the midwest and on the east coast that I've been updating about my health. They send me constant well wishes.

When you're sick, it make a world of difference when you're surrounded by kindred spirits, as I am:)

Another wonderful foggy snowy morning

I love waking up and seeing the snow-blanketed world bathed in a vaporous white fog. The light makes me think of the atmosphere in a Vermeer painting where edges are softly blurred.

I've noticed that my pain levels are practically zero in the mornings and progressively get more noticeable by evening. Last night was particularly painful, a red hot 10, even with the pain meds. Maybe it's because my incision is still healing, or maybe it's the excess gas from not having a proper bowel movement since last Friday. I'm working on it though. I just wish my pain meds didn't cause constipation.

So right now, I'm feeling perfectly happy munching on my butter and marmalade smothered toast and sipping my americano.

Intermittent Self-Catheterization (ISC)

I should mention that I had a bit of nightmare experience with ISC. Dr. T2 told me several times that I would not feel any pain when I self-cath, but of couse, I did. It was a slight burning sensation and to add to my horror, there was also blood on the end of the catheter. The nurses checked that I had the smallest catheter available (14 French) and I did. Apparently there are also child sizes (16 and 18 French) but no one in Portland seemed to carry them.

Aside from the pain, I was told that I would have to self-cath every 3 hours, even through the late evening, early morning hours. Knowing this caused me to develop a quite severe phobia to self-cathing. I cried like a baby. I worried and obsessed about it. And no one had given me the option to have a temporary bladder bag installed as an alternative.

So, by the time I was discharged on Saturday evening, I was a basketcase. Not only was my bladder and psyche in distress, but I was severely constipated from my pain meds. The gas and bladder pains were unbearable!

At my sister-in-law's house, I was in agony and extreme anxiety. No one seemed to understand, not even my husband, which is very unusual. My sister-in-law, who is a physician, helped me self-cath once. Then my mother tried to help, but didn't realize that she was inserting the catheter in the wrong hole. How is this possible when I should only have 3 holes down there? Well, it did, and by Sunday evening, I was in pure searing pain from a distended bladder and bowel gas.

I emailed Dr. T2 a distress message and he called back on his cell. I could hear his kids in the background. He told me to go to the Good Samaritan Emergency Room right away. He would call to let them know to expect me.

When we arrived, I had at least 3 nurses and one doctor ask me the same questions (i.e., why was I here? what kind of surgery did I have? when did I have surgery? when's the last time I voided my bladder?). Finally, a nurse who claimed to have done over 1,000 bladder bag insertions and has been working as a nurse for over 35 years, attempted to find my urethra. To my shock, she could not find it! Finally, after a several gruelling minutes, another more senior nurse arrived and thank GOD she found it at last. Of course, my relief did not come in one fell swoop. It was agonizingly slow and my back was killing me, so my husband suggested that I walk around the bed as my bladder drained.

I did just that, while sipping water and munching on animal crackers. I was so dehydrated that the cookies just became glue in my mouth until I could sip some water.

The next day, I arrived at Dr. T2's office and they swapped out the big gallon sized bladder bag for the smaller more discreet one that I'm wearing right now. I am no longer in distress about drinking too much water, however I still have a phobia to ISC.

Next week, Dr. T2 will remove the bladder bag and inject warm saline into my bladder to see if I can void on my own. If I can't, he will want me to self-cath myself. I am hopeful that this will not be the case.

First Day Back Home:)

It has been a week since my surgery and I'm finally back home in Corvallis. Feeling pretty good. My pain meds (Oxycodone) make me a little sleepy, but otherwise, they work. They also cause some constipation, so I'm taking a prescription laxative (Glycolax) to counteract that side effect. Some new additions to my body include a little bladder bag that collects my urine and which I strap to my leg. It's only temporary, until my bladder heals and I can pee on my own. Dr. T2 is giving me a week with this bag. I also have a 5 inch scar discreetly matching the top line of my pubic hair triangle. Apparently, this is considered very small for this kind of surgery and I was getting all kinds of compliments in the hospital by the nursing staff.

I spent Tuesday-Saturday evening in the hospital. Then rested at my sister-in-law's home in Portland. Now that I'm finally at my own home, I feel like I can really get to work on recovering.

Two pieces of good news: The pathology report indicated that the radical hysterectomy got rid of all the cancer. Also, my lymph nodes did not have cancer in them. Therefore, I will not be needing radiation or chemo - hurrah! The second piece of good news is that my breast cyst turned out to be completely benign!! What a relief!

A bonus is that I won't have to deal with my monthly menses anymore. No more tampons or pads. How strange, but wonderful, too.

Major surgery scheduled for Tuesday!

Right on the heels of my minor breast surgery, I will be having a major surgery early next week. The surgery that both my gynecologic oncologists have agreed upon is a radical hysterectomy. A month ago, when I first heard of this surgery, I was freaking out big time. Now, I'm actually looking forward to it, particularly the idea of getting this deadly cancer out of my body.

I am sad that I didn't qualify for the trachelectomy. I would have liked to have had the option of giving birth to my own child. But right now, I think it's more important for me to focus on beating this cancer.

My mom has already reserved her open-ended round-trip flight from NY to Portland, Oregon. She will arrive this Sunday, at 10am. This will be a big day because of several reasons:
*My niece will be celebrating her 3rd birthday.
*My mom will arriving to help me before and after my surgery.
*E and I will submit our deposit to hold the apartment that we finally found in Hillsboro! (Hurray!)
*This will be the first day of my preparations for surgery on Tuesday.

There are several things I have to do prior to surgery. First, I need to watch a video on self-catheterization. I will do this later today, but I'm already cringing on the inside just thinking about doing this. Apparently, when you have your reproductive organs scooped out, some nerves are unavoidably cut which can result in the loss of the sensation of having a full bladder. Because of this, I will need to prompt the act of voiding my bladder by inserting a tube into my urethra. Normally, this would be quite painful, but Dr. T2 assured me that after the surgery, I will hardly feel a thing, which is the problem. He also said that usually after the 6-week recovery period, most women regain enough sensation to be able to urinate normally. Let's hope that I'm like most women in this instance.

On Sunday, I need to begin clearing my bowels with a laxative. Then on Monday, I have to take some strong antibiotics and start drinking clear fluids only. Jello is okay. In fact, Dr. T2's medical assistant suggested drinking a cocktail of Jello and hot water 30 minutes prior to taking the antiobiotics. Apparently, doing so will coat my stomach with jello so that when I take the antiobiotics, I won't feel as nauseous. E liked this idea so much, that he said he would try it too. He's very fond of jello.

On Monday, I have to arrive at NW Cancer Specialists where a nurse practitioner, LC, will answer all my questions and tell me what I can expect before and after the surgery. Then I will proceed to Good Sam, right next door, where they will take my blood and give me a chest x-ray.

Then, after midnight, I am not to eat or drink anything.

By 5:30am on Tuesday, I am to arrive at Good Sam. My surgery is at 7:30am. If all goes smoothly, it will take about 2 1/2 hours. Then I will have a hospital stay of about 3-6 days, followed by recovery at home for 6 weeks.

Following surgery, Dr. T2 will send my tissue samples to the lab and if the pathology report reveals that I have less than 50% cancer spread to my cervix, then I won't have to have radiation therapy after my 6-week recovery from surgery. If the pathology reports that I have more than 50% cancer spread, then I'll be really bummed because that means an additional 5 weeks of radiation therapy, where I would have to come into the hospital every day during the work week. It would only be external radiation, though. Plus, Dr. T2 explained that radiation therapy has evolved to the point that most people don't experience any skin discomfort, like a sunburn. Mostly likely, I would feel nothing for the first 3 weeks. Then I might begin to feel some fatigue. But that's about all. For some unlucky patients with very sensitive skin, they will still experience some burning sensation. I'm just crossing my fingers that I won't have to deal with radiation at all.

My consultation with Dr. T2 about the surgery happened yesterday and I was sure that I was forgetting to ask him something, so he was kind enough to encourage me to call if I thought of any additional questions. He also gave me his email address, which I really appreciated, since I prefer things in writing. In addition, he gave me some photocopies of medical papers that have been written about oopexy, or ovarian transposition.

Oopexy is when you move the ovaries out of the pelvic area to protect them from ovarian failure due to radiation. It is not certain that I will need to have radiation afterwards, but if I do and wish to preserve this last bit of fertility, I will need to move them out of the field of radiation. Dr. T2 feel strongly against this procedure. Apparently, studies have shown that only 50% of women can save ovarian function, and many women experience painful ovarian cysts. Plus, the ovaries will eventually have to be moved back down surgically to where they belong.

When I inquired about early menopause, Dr. T2 said that I could just have hormone replacement therapy. This is as easy as taking a pill every day. I thought it was more complicated, that I would have to visit the hospital frequently to get hormone shots, but I was mistaken. Taking a hormone pill every day sounds very easy, indeed!

So, this will probably be my last post until I return home from the hospital in about a week or so. I'll keep doing my EFT practice, and praying, and wishing for a good outcome.

My first ever (minor) surgery

Today, I had my papillary cystadenoma removed from my right breast. Dr. P at OHSU's Breast Center had scheduled me for 3:15pm, but when I checked in, and inquired about my expected wait time, the receptionist said that he was running half an hour late today for all his appointments. Since we were early and E was feeling very fidgety, even with his new book and magazine from Powell's Book Store, we decided to go to the fancy cafeteria on the 10th floor and come back at around 3:30pm.

We had been to that cafeteria once before, the day that I was officially diagnosed with cervical cancer, so we were certain we'd remember where it was. But alas, we missed it and ended up walking across the impressive sky bridge that links the Peter Kohler Pavilion with one of OHSU's older buildings. E didn't seem to mind the walk and neither did I. The breathtaking views of Portland were enough to distract me from the fact that I'd soon be having surgery.

When we finally reached the older building, it turned out to be quite depressing and dull, so we turned back and recrossed the sky bridge. With time to spare, we proceeded to cross the shorter bridge linking the Pavilion to the Doernbecher Children's Hospital. My oh my! The ambience was so much more cozier along this bridge and once we entered the Childen's Hospital, it was like being given a warm kindly embrace. Everything from the new carpeting, to the children's book styled signage, to the frosted windows with more children's book styled illustrations, made this place a welcome place to heal. How I wish that this same concept were utilized in the design of the rest of the hospital! The Kohler Pavilion does a really good job at this, but the older buildings could definitely use major renovating and refreshing. Even the sky bridge, though impressive, lacked warmth.

Finally, we returned to the Breast Center at 3:30pm and we proceeded to wait another 45 minutes. Then they called me in and E went out again to see if he could find that cafeteria that alluded us.

The nurse, who didn't introduce herself but seemed perfectly nice, led me down a very long corridor to a pleasant examination/surgical room. She took my blood pressure, which was normal, then gave me a gown to change into. When she returned, I sat on the bed and she placed a freezing cold pad on my back. I really had to brace myself when she did that because I'm really sensitive to cold temperatures and this was almost painful. She explained that it was to "ground" me for when Dr. P cauterized my blood vessels. Apparently, as he cuts through my breast tissue, in order to prevent me from bleeding all over the place, he would cut and cauterize at the same time. This sounded fine to me, but I was a little nervous about getting electrocuted all the same.

Then she had me lie down and wait. I believe I waited in there for 30-45 minutes. Usually, this much time would cause me to get really worked up, imagining all kinds of awful surgical scenarios. This time, however, I had EFT to help keep me calm. At first, I was a little self-conscious, suspecting that there might be cameras in the room, but a cursory look around didn't reveal any obvious surveillance. So I began to do the tapping technique. First, I gauged how scared I felt, and on a scale from 1-10, I was definitely a red hot 10. Then I formed a mantra in my mind, which encapsulated how I felt the last time I saw Dr. P and had my breast cyst aspirated. I thought/whispered these words:

Even though I freaked out at my last exam with Dr. P when he aspirated me, I love and accept myself.

The mantra sort've changed and abridged itself naturally as I did the tapping, but I kept my mind focused on how upset I got at my last meeting with Dr. P. I tapped several times on all the energy points I could remember - the top of my head, between my eyebrows, the outside of my eyes, beneath my eyes, on my chin, on the base of my neck, on my chest, on my side beneath my armpit, and finally on the side of my hands. Even though I felt really silly and a bit obsessive-compulsive, I repeated this cycle of tapping several times and each time, I checked to see where I was on the "freaked out" scale. And magically, gradually, I noticed my anxiety levels drop from a very solid 10, to a 6/7, then to 3/4, then to a 1, then finally, to a 0/.5. It never got completely to a 0, but it was close enough, and I was just hopeful that it would stay that way once Dr. P got around to doing the surgery.

FINALLY, Dr. P arrived with his usual flourish and joking manner. He's such a gregarious and jolly fellow that it's hard for me to stay annoyed at his tardiness. Accompanying him was a different resident than the last time, and his usual nurse, PR.

Dr. P began by putting me at ease right away. He said that this would be easier than getting my tooth filled.

I remembered to ask him some questions, which he answered very well:

Is this cyst definitely benign? We won't know until the tissue samples come back from pathology. In most cases, it is benign.

Will my breast look very different afterwards? It will look the same, or even better, because if we let this cyst remain, it will grow to be a very big lump.

Can you make it a very discreet scar? It will be very discreet. How low do you let your neckline fall? (I told him not low at all - I'm very modest. And he made sure the cut didn't fall on the spots where my bra might press against my skin.)

Will I need pain meds? Well, we'll give you some pain meds so you won't call us at 3 o'clock in the morning. But most women really don't feel that much pain afterwards. They'll take 1 or 2, but stop taking it because the meds can make them a little nauseous.

I tried to Google "papillary cystadenoma" but couldn't find a good definition. Could you explain it again? Does it grow and multiply? No, it doesn't multiply, but it will continue to grow, and will kind've look like a shaggy rug. (I still didn't get it.)

First he tried to locate the cyst, which was a little tricky to find because he had aspirated it 3 weeks ago and it had shrunk. When he finally found it, he marked it with a green marker and explained that he did that because once he injected the novacaine, that area would swell and he wouldn't be able to feel a thing.

Next, he cleaned the skin at the surgical location. With a gauze drenched in cold wet curry-colored disinfectant, he wiped my right breast 4 times. When it was agreed that I was in a good position, he placed blue towels all around my breast, just leaving the surgical site uncovered. From then on, I wasn't to move a thing, which was fine. I've always been exceptionally good at holding still for long periods - not sure why.

Then PR gave him the novacaine in a syringe and he told me that it would just be a quick prick and he would go slowly. And he did. He said that it would bubble and feel like a bee sting at first, but then that would quickly be replaced with numbness, and that's exactly what it felt like. I could still feel a slight pressure, and I think he shot me 3 times.

Then he made his incision, which I did not feel, but the only reason I know this is because he said he would give me some shots deeper into my breast tissue now and that it would feel like little twinges. And it did! I appreciated how Dr. P would explain what he was doing as he went.

Then Dr. P joked to PR that she could start the movie, and PR turned on the machine that would power the laser that would cut through my breast tissue until he found the cyst and could remove it. As he cut and cauterized, a long beep would emit from the machine, letting Dr. P know when it was working. As he cauterized the blood vessels, smoke literally could be seen coming from my breast. From my prone angle, I really couldn't see anything, except my nipple, but that was fine. I just thought it was interesting to see smoke. It smelled a little like Dr. P was welding something.

Finally, he found the cyst and with a wrench-like tool, he carefully removed the whole thing, leaving my breast tissue very much intact. He actually joked that he had dropped it. He told several jokes during the procedure, including when he stitched me up with stitches that will dissolve on their own. I laughed at most of them, but mostly just appreciated that I could laugh at all during this experience.

When everything was done, I felt perfectly fine. Dr. P said that I should see him next Thursday to find out about the pathology report on my cyst tissue. I asked if I could page him instead since I would be at Good Sam next week following my other surgery and he said that would work. Dr. P and PR seemed genuinely sympathetic upon hearing that I had to have surgery for my cervical cancer next week. Dr. P agreed with me that it would be like getting struck by lightning to have both breast cancer AND cervical cancer at the same time. I'm hopeful that he's right, but I guess I'll just have to wait until next Thursday to know for sure.

Finally, Dr. P bid farewell to me, his resident following after him. PR cleaned my breast, and filled out a prescription for Vicodin, a familiar-sounding pain killer. She suggested that since I'm so petite, I could probably get by on one pill every 3-4 hours, as needed. Also, a bag of frozen peas would help with the swelling. Dr. P had applied butterly stitches after he sewed me up. Then he applied a gauze cover. He said that tomorrow, I could remove the gauze cover and shower as usual, even with the butterfly stitches. And the butterfly stitches should fall off with time. Of course, after a week or so, I could remove them myself.

By 5:20pm, I was out of there and E gave me a big hug in the waiting room:)

I don't know if it's Dr. P's surgical skills or the EFT, or a combination of both, but I just took one Vicodin right after with a sandwich, and I haven't felt a need to continue with the pain meds. The pain is so manageable. It feels like I worked out with weights on my right side and maybe also got a small bee sting, but that's it.

I hope my surgery next week is as uneventful.

Treatment Indecision

Dr. T2 from NW Cancer Specialists finally called - yippee! Unfortunately, he doesn't think I'll be able to have the more conservative fertility-sparing trachelectomy after all. I already guessed that this would be his verdict, so I was completely fine when he told me.

Then, he proceeded to tell me what he recommends for my treatment: either the hysterectomy OR radiation and chemotherapy. If I choose the latter, I would not lose my hair because the chemo would only be supporting the radiation, which would be the more aggressive treatment. I would, however, have to deal with early hormone loss from the function-loss of my ovaries. If I choose the former, I would not have to deal with the hormone loss of my ovaries. Because of my age, 34, he was leaning towards the surgery. He also said that both treatments have the same survival rate.

This all sounded good, and I was already leaning towards the surgery option, but then I mentioned that I had spoken with Dr. T1 at OHSU last week and he recommended a different treatment direction - radiation only, no surgery. So now, Dr. T2 is trying to get a hold of Dr. T1. He tried calling and emailing, but to no avail. He suggested that I also try contacting Dr. T1 myself, and so I did, but it was already 4:30 and his nurse leaves work at 4pm. So I sent them both an email instead. I am hopeful that these 2 doctors can agree on the best treatment soon.

Since I will be in Portland tomorrow and Thursday, looking for a new place to live and having minor breast surgery, there is a strong possibility that I may have to be re-examined by one them (whoever ends up being my surgeon).

Dr. T2 did ask me if I have a surgeon preference and at that moment, I couldn't make up my mind. I just told him that both of them seem qualified. Now, since I've had more time to consider my experience with them, I'm leaning more towards Dr. T2. Not only does he have a better bedside manner, but he also works at a smaller hospital, which might mean less wait time and more personalized treatment than at a larger hospital, like OHSU. It will be interesting, though, to see what form of treatment they decide to recommend, and who they think should perform the treatment.

Anticipating the pain and fatigue of treatments

This Thursday, I will be experiencing my first real surgery. I'll have anesthesia, the local kind, since it's just minor surgery on my breast, but I can only imagine how it must feel after the numbing fades away and the pain medication takes over.

I've been doing lots of yoga and weights to get my body as prepped as possible. I should probably meditate more seriously, as well. Meditation is a challenge for me because I tend to get very sleepy, or my mind tends to wander.

I have a friend in Chicago who is a hynotherapist, and I may contact her to see if there's anything she can do to fortify me. When I was living in Chicago, she tried to hypnotise me, but I don't think it worked. A student of hers also practiced on me, and this was unsuccessful, as well. Maybe I'm just not a good candidate for hypnotism.

However, there's a new pain management technique that I've discovered through a fellow blogger and cancer patient. It's called EFT (Emotional Freedom Techniques). Before I discovered her blog, I had never heard of this technique of tapping the body at various acupuncture points to achieve emotional and physical relief. Apparently, there are different ways to learn it.

There's a free manual that I've downloaded, but since I tend to be very impatient and this document is extremely long and detailed, I already know that this is not enough. Then there are the DVDs that are available, which can be purchased as a set, or individually. They're kind've expensive, so I'm trying to figure out if I can get away with just purchasing 1, or at most, 2. Then there are the workshops. I found one that's scheduled in mid-January, but the cost is also a bit more than I can afford at the moment. [Big sigh...] Why does money always seem to get in the way?:(

I just tried to see if my library carries the DVDs, but they're doing maintenance to their Web site right now (of course). I'll make a note to check later.

At the moment, I don't feel very nervous about the breast surgery. Probably because Dr. P at OHSU made it seem like it's no big deal. "Minor" surgery makes it sound like I'm going to get my tooth filled. However, I'm sure that I will be very afraid as it is happening. I wonder if I'll be able to watch? And do I even want to watch?

Probably not.