Okay, so yesterday on this blog I featured the song "I Gotta Feelin' That Today's Gonna Be a Good Day". That's the modified version of the Black Eyed Peas' song, retitled / reworded for Oprah's 24th Season Opener. I thought it would be a good theme song for my visit to the hospital today. WRONGO!!! Today is a sucky day. Does that sound like a good song title? "I Gotta Feelin' That Today's Gonna Be a Sucky Day". It doesn't quite have the same ring to it.
So I go sailing into my doctor's office this morning at 8:25 am, full of renewed vitality, vim and vigor, imagining him telling me I don't need chemo after all...that I'm free to resume my travel plans...to go on staff at the missions base in Kona, Hawaii as I'd originally planned before all this happened - it's where I was supposed to be as of this past August 30th.
My second imaginary scenario involved someone passing me a million tax free US dollars as I walked into the hospital this morning, and offering a complementary back and foot massage to go with it.
My third imaginary scenario, the worst case scenario of them all but still tolerable, was Dr. Sigman telling me I'd need chemo for, like, one day, and then I'd be free to book my flight to Hawaii.
But NO-O-O-O-O, little did I realize I should have had a FOURTH imaginary scenario, which ISN'T imaginary, which was this: "So, dear....we have some news and you're not going to be happy about it." Ding ding ding!! Alarm bells....flashing red light....sirens.....something's wrong with this scenario. Don't like it one single bit. "Dislike" feature on Facebook. Bad news alert. Beep beep beep!!! Bleccchhhh.
So basically, during my double mastectomy on September 15th, they removed the two sentinel nodes, or lymph nodes, closest to the tumor (actually, as it turns out, there were two tumors; a large one and a smaller one). They biopsied the nodes on the spot and determined that they were both negative, which as you know in medical terms, is good. The medical world is the only place where negative is GOOD and positive is BA-A-A-A-A-DDD. So the nodes were negative, or so they thought, so they removed The Girls and closed me up. But they were wrong.
As it turns out, upon further analysis, only one node is negative and the other is positive. This means my doctor must now operate again and remove more lymph nodes to see whether or not there are more nodes positive for cancer. There are approximately 30 lymph nodes in the area of the breast, starting there and branching out into the underarm and general area. He was concerned that he wouldn't be able to secure an operating room quickly, but fortunately, they're able to squeeze me in this Tuesday, October 20th at noon. Oh, goody gumdrops.
So there we go. I have just started feeling normal again as the anesthetic is wearing off (it's taken about a month to stop napping every few hours), and now I'll be back to square one. No driving for two weeks after the surgery, lots of sleeping; you guys will have to send me more chocolate to cheer me up, I'll need to buy an additional supply of ice cream....the works.
Enh, it could be worse. Do lymph nodes weigh anything? Maybe I'll lose another pound or so (mmm...don't think so but I can dream).
On the bright side, the post-surgical analysis revealed that there were abnormal cells in the left breast (the side that did not have the tumor), which means that if this had been overlooked, cancerous tumors could have started developing there, also. I have not for one moment regretted my decision to opt for a double mastectomy, even though the doctor only recommended a lumpectomy (removal of the tumor only). Now I don't have to waste any time in the future policing that area of my body for cancer.
Due to my family history and the nine prior cancers in my mother, maternal aunt, maternal cousin (presently dying of bladder cancer) and my father, I am so grateful to be rid of both potentially dangerous appendages (meaning my boobs) as it gives me two less things to worry about.
Due to my family history and the nine prior cancers in my mother, maternal aunt, maternal cousin (presently dying of bladder cancer) and my father, I am so grateful to be rid of both potentially dangerous appendages (meaning my boobs) as it gives me two less things to worry about.
So....I had a good cry this morning as I walked through the hospital corridors....it was very dramatic as people furtively looked at me and spoke in hushed tones. I tried not to look too pathetic as I wandered aimlessly down the halls, looking for a large bar of milk chocolate to comfort me. I settled for a tea in the hospital's narrow, cramped Second Cup, wedged in between the elevators and the ladies' washroom.
What an exciting adventure, eh? I'm so grateful not to be bored with my life right now! I never know what's happening! Bleccchhhhh.
So all kidding aside, where does this leave me? Hmm....not quite as positive right now, but gimme a few days and the old me will be back, I think. I am still not afraid (okay, maybe a little). I am still positive (most of the time). And I am human (all the time). :)
Here's one of my favorite songs by Carolyn Arends, called "Seize the Day", or as they say in Latin, Carpe Diem (did I spell that right?). The lyrics are so beautiful and express exactly what I'm feeling lately; feeling today.
Some fun facts from the Canadian Cancer Society website:
Breast cancer is the most common cancer among Canadian women (excluding non-melanoma skin cancer).In 2009:
An estimated 22,700 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer.
5,400 will die of it.
An estimated 180 men will be diagnosed with breast cancer.
50 will die of it.
On average, 437 Canadian women will be diagnosed with
breast cancer every week.
On average, 104 Canadian women will die of
breast cancer every week.
Probability of developing or dying from breast cancer:
One in 9 women is expected to develop breast cancer
during her lifetime.
One in 28 will die of it.
Trends in breast cancer:
Breast cancer death rates have declined in every age group since at least the mid 1990s.
In women aged 20-39, breast cancer incidence and death rates have declined since 1969.
Trends in Fashion - the very latest in scarves (but not from the Canadian Cancer Society website)
Gotta get me one of those things....
