Session no. 4 done, only 29 to go!!!

I showed my red boob to the rad tech and she wasn't impressed. "Pretty typical. Is it a little hard?" Yup. Don't worry about it, she assured me.

I think I did get through to her that I wasn't suffering. I was concerned that with such an early reaction to the rads that I was in for trouble. I was relieved to hear this. I figured, if it's already reacting, is it going to balloon up and explode by the 20th session. Guess not.

They gave me a new card with my photo.

I took the girls to the optometrist. He's this tall, good looking guy who can be a bit clinical. His first name is Serge. I mean, how can any ugly guy have a first name like that?? Then he has this four syllable typical Alsatian Jewish last name, which makes for an amusing name pairing.  I'm with him only because I don't need to make an apt. 6 months out. He runs a tight ship and is on time (like the only doctor of any speciality in France...) Let's be diplomatic and say he isn't there to win any personality contests. He checks your eyes, you get your Rx and NEXT!

Oh no, it's been over a year. Look how much their refraction has changed. You need to follow this a bit better...

WE GET IT! No, I just sat there and told him he was right. Bad mama I am!

I wasn't scheduled but then I gave him a big smile and pointed to the chair. Sigh. Go ahead.

"Are you taking any medications?"
"No but I will be soon"
"What will you be taking?"
"Tamoxifen and it has a lot of side effects. I'm wondering with my eyes..."
"Why are you taking that??"
"I had Breast Cancer. I was operated in October. I'm doing radiation right now, like this morning..."
So sorry I was a bit distracted and didn't get my kids' eyes checked out when I should have!!!

He quickly turned the topic to my bifocals. I told him that they don't work and that I have to lift up my glasses to read something small. Well, that's kind of defeating the purpose. Read this, he ordered and showed me something in fine print. I barely got through the first line with my wonderful accent than he yanked it back. "Guess you don't need bifocals..."

Guess I don't! So he just wrote it for one refraction.

I took Ronnie in the week before. I apologized for being late (I had called, I'm the only patient in France who does this apparently) and they were fine with it (once they get past the shock of having an actual patient call and say they might  be late). When I showed up, I told her my "good" excuse.

She had lost her mom to breast cancer. The woman was only 52. Um. You realize...

"Yes, I know..." but I was encouraging. Caught early. Not a big deal. Still scary but no chemo. Get yourself checked! Do you like your radiologist? No, she doesn't. Here's mine. OMG, he did my pregnancies! Yes, go back to him. He caught my cancer and did my biopsy. Yes, I know him! Talk to him about ultrasounds in addition to mammograms, possibly a MRI. Ask him what you need to do...

Most importantly, do your checks and then don't think about it. Just live your life and don't let this be a big black cloud looming over you.  Bad news may never come and if you're on top of it, your bad news could be my bad news, which will be a few difficult months of my life and that's it!

Ronnie yanked me out of the office to go.

This time I gave her my email and phone. Any questions, contact me. Then Talia yanked me out of the office.

It's like their mom is a member of some Secret Society. Too scary how many are touched by this...
  

Bummer Christmas!

I'm just sad, feeling sorry for myself. It's rainy and grey here in Alsace. I'm trying not to think of the family party last weekend, the Revels, the Nutcracker, etc. All that going on without me.

Good coordination. Our annual Crab Night wouldn't have happened even if we were there. The expert crab-maker is in Antarctica!

I'm exactly 6 weeks post-op today.

So I called a fellow survivor with whom I spent two Christmas's in England, over 20 years ago. She just finished radiation, only 15 sessions. There are a few differences since she's post-menopause. No problems.

I told her my mom's story about breast surgery when she was a nurse in the 50's (early 60's). Oh no! she squeaked. Okay, let's say this. Those poor women went into surgery not knowing what they'd wake up to. The pathology was done on the spot (they ran it down and did it asap) and the decision was made while she was still on the table. Chills! So scary.

She was talking about the fact the stigma isn't there any longer. I pointed out that treatments and survivability are less scary too, taking the frightening aspect out of the whole deal. There are still scary stories out there but fewer and they have complications.

But today, I looked in the mirror and after only two sessions, I've got a slightly red boob, and it feels differently. Not good! I'll be sure to bring the creams with me next time (no products before rads but I can put them on in the dressing room afterwards).

My stuffing worked out pretty well. At least is was sort of like being home, but not really...

My leg is really giving me problems so hopefully, two days off of it, no driving and I can make it to Europark on Friday!

We also reserved for my birthday. It's a nice hotel in Ribeauvillé, about an hour south of here. I'm bummed about not doing something more exotic. I tried but everything's either booked or closed this time of year. I'm spending my 50th in Alsace. Oh great... But it has a pool, a jacuzzi and a view. That's all I need for 48 hours. 

Bring on the Rads!

And so it begins. I had treatments today and yesterday. Nothing exciting to report. The machine is kind of cool. It spins around me (better than the other way around). The nurses seem nice. Everything was on time.

I am, by far, the youngest one there. You can hear almost equal Alsatian to French in the waiting room. They all get to know each other. One guy announced Merry Christmas to everyone in Alsatian. Why bother, since we technically live in France, to translate??

I did see another young-ish looking woman yesterday. I also saw a couple of ladies in turbans and I'm aware that they might be younger than they look, post chemo, without hair. I see them and say another prayer of thanks that I didn't have to go through that.

There is a ticker tape on the wall, listing delays. There are three machines and yesterday, it said that there was a 20 minute delay on one of them, not mine. They have names; Primus I and Primus II. The machine that was late was "Axesse" or something like that. There are two doors of different colors for each machine, so I can kind of follow when I'm next.

When I arrive, I throw my card in the Primus I box and sit down in the center section and wait. No need to check-in or whatever.

So far, no ill effects. I'm kind of annoyed that they're closed so much. Dec. 25th and 26th, then a half day on the 31st (I don't have a slot) and Jan.1st. So I stayed home from California for the sake of 6 sessions. Ugh!

Really deadbeat Christmas. It's not too cold, but grey. Missing home. Wish I were there! 

Back to the GP for the knee.

Yeah! Kids off school now. Sad about not being in California but at least we can relax. Davina cried on the way to school. Yesterday is when the kids visit Grandpa's school usually. We have a whole program when we're there. Maybe I'll ask about the psychologist who is at the rads clinic and have her talk to them.

I had to go back to the doctor and get other stuff for the pain. Ugh! I have trouble especially when I sleep. I have a muscle relaxant and a pain killer. Prefer the latter. I promised not to mix them since she gave me both.

The GP agrees with Dr. N. that it's my knee and the pain is radiating from there. Hard to believe since my hip gives me more problems. It seems to bounce around.

I'm wondering if swimming will hurt or help it. I'm not too keen to get back in the water in case it cramps up, even though the water at Schiltig isn't that cold. I'm going to be irradiating the side of my torso soon enough so I might as well stay away until all this is over.

My mom read that swimming is not good for weight loss. It's great for everything but. It increases hunger and they don't know why.

We figured out what that drug is that she already gave me. I told her I took Anaprox back in the U.S. Sure enough, that was it! My trusty drug for cramps for 20 years was what she gave me!! That stuff was magic on cramps. Haven't had them since Ronnie was born but while it worked then, it didn't now.

She then asked me "Didn't Dr. N. give you your X-rays??" Oops! She ordered so many and I just forgot. Nothing to report. Fine, but bring the X-rays next time!!

Small victory. I was able to sleep last night without any sort of bra. I've been wearing a very basic sports bra at night. I had to wear something because when I turned, it pulled on the stitches. Now, I'm healed enough to rotate pain-free! A small victory but a victory nonetheless.

Kind of a dead weekend. Talia has practice but nothing else is going on. Just waiting on Monday! 

The day we were supposed to fly to California...

The kids are sad. Today was the day we were going to buy our tickets to California, to spend the holidays and my birthday there.

Then I think of how much cancer has taken away from so many, I realize how unscathed I really am, and how grateful I am that my cancer journey has been so much easier than it has been for others. One trip to California is a small price to pay. Okay, not just a trip to California... a lot of picking, prodding and sweating over test results-and I'm not even done yet!

Radiation to come!!!

Which is why the "sacrifice" is really not being able to go anywhere!

But radiation symptoms are nothing compared to chemo effects and I can deal. It's not a bad place to be irradiated. My sister could barely eat when her throat was done. The side of my boob is not such an exposed or delicate area as the throat is.

I had another PT session and one more before Christmas. I'll see how realistic it is to continue with the rads.

What's funny is that I mentioned that my daughter does rhythmic gymnastics and she asked casually, if I knew one of her teammates. The PT knows the whole family. I whipped up a photo of the two girls together. Remember her sprained ankle two years ago? She asked me.  It was especially amusing because the dad was telling the PT how we have such a great club and how chummy the parents are. Well, guess I'm one of his chums!

Having cancer in a small town is kind a special experience...

My stuff's back!

I got this big envelope in the mail. No note, no return address. Nothing. But at least I have my X-rays again. I don't really need them at this point. I ended up not canceling my apt. at Strauss but I told the study people and another department. They also got the request to give back the stuff from Sainte Anne.

Sooooo glad I'm out of there!

My hip is a little better. The other morning I was taking a shower and there was this awful looking blister on my thigh. So, being a Cancer Patient, immediately I thought the worse. For a flash, I had visions of mets and reoccurrences... Then I calmed down and realized that it was a burn from the hot water bottle I use in bed for my hip.

Duh.

Yesterday was a stunning victory. I found... a cotton bra! One of those soft things that goes over my head. Flimsy support but good for sleeping. Soooo comfortable! C&A in Germany, not France. I even went down a size (yeah!) but I think sizes run bigger in Germany. Oh well. Now my family doesn't have to send me any from the U.S.

I'm ready for radiation! 

I'm the tattoo lady!

They did two scans today, and did two tattoos. They didn't hurt at all. I'm all marked up and haven't looked in the mirror. There was a lot of ink going on...

I'm kind of young for that place. It wasn't noticeable at Strauss but in a dedicated radiation center, it is. There were some ladies with really short hair. I doubt it was a style choice of their own but they otherwise looked good. The place was packed. Both the nurse and the doctor I saw, assured me that for the early apt.'s that I requested, it won't be a problem to park and won't be so busy.

Dr. K (the onc-rad lady) said that it's no rush to see the endocrinologist so late. I told her there was a big wait and I could only get an apt. for early February. My thyroid is working, she assured me. It's just with the antibodies, it's on its way out. Lovely. Deal with that later, after this is all done. No conflict (like tiredness from both) is a problem.

A nurse talked to me for awhile. Of course, when she went on to explain things, I had to come out with the story. I wasn't one of the totally-shocked-that-I-got-this cases. I told her, it was the monster in the closet for three decades. In my case, I was just happy to have avoided chemo and grateful that the monster was small, and hopefully easy to clobber!

No pool, she warned me. Argh! I bet they don't miss me at Schiltig!

I came out of the restroom and saw a young doctor who looks just like his mom. "Bonjour. Dr. H.?" I ventured, surprised at my bravery. "Ah, Madame Dreyfuss!" Okay, he'd been warned.

We snuck into the hallway and had a quick chat. Two kids! The little boy I saw at Hannukah and a little girl, 9 months. His brother is Lyon doing orthopedics... I told him the little joke his dad told me. I also admitted that I wasn't up-to-date with the Jewish Community gossip and didn't put them together, the H's son married the G's daughter! If anyone got sick at that wedding, they would have been well-taken care of.

I was curious to ask him what it's like having Dr. G. as a father-in-law but resisted!

Such a gracious, sweet guy. I was impressed! I was also pleased for his parents, who must be very proud of him. I'd met him years ago, very briefly at the Lingo synagogue, when he was still a student.

Those fancy parking spaces were all taken. I had to drive around and around... But come in the front and just park, the nurse explained. Mornings are fine.

I start on Monday and go to February 6th. Big relief as this will be right before the next vacations. French schools run 6-7 weeks between 2 week breaks, but then their summers are shorter (early July to early Sept.) 

Tomorrow back at Sainte Anne

Apparently, back in the U.S., they're not into using ultrasounds anymore. My sister was in shock. My cancer was found with a sonogram, and they just want to do mammograms?? MRI's instead, on high-riskers. At first, they said she didn't meet the criteria. What?!? How much more "high-risk" can you be? But MRI's? Dr. N. said they'd be doing biopsies all day if the general public were checked with MRI's. I get that but those with high-risk, do the mammos with MRI's.

I'll alternate between the the two; mammos with sonograms, mammo with MRI's. The MRI's will have to be booked 3 months in advance (probably more if I want Dr. N. to do them). How can ultrasounds be abandoned so easily? It's not that much radiation. Cost?? And it wasn't just my sister but another high-risker was told that at another hospital back home. I'll be on the lookout for articles.

I'm going to be such a nervous wreck the first few times I'm checked, probably breaking out in hot flashes as it's happening. He's already seen me at my worst. I'm soooo dreading that Tamoxofen! Friends were over and I was in pain from the arthritis and had trouble sitting. One of the side effects is joint pain. Great...

And the husband who was over today, guess what his sister was just diagnosed with?? It's scary-common. She's waiting on surgery. I made the mistake of asking a couple of questions. Oops. People don't know stuff. I was explaining about the chemo and how the protocol works. I didn't want them to misunderstand why I was able to get out of it, how I met all the criteria but how if the cancer had been more aggressive, that some cancers justify chemo regardless of how contained it is.

I realize that I'm being sent to Daniel's partner. He saw a "Diabetologue" which confused me at first. He's an endocrinologist (specializing in diabetes, obviously) in a practice and Nice Onc-Rads lady send me to one of his partners. I know where it is, at least...

So tomorrow is shake-down time, almost at the same hour that I would have been at Strauss. I get the tattoos and do the mold. 

Helloooooo Sainte Anne!

No, that's not spelled wrong. Female saints get their on extra "E" in French.

First, what St. Anne doesn't have. The smoke cloud as you enter. No more irony of smokers smoking outside a Cancer Center jokes. I'm not sure where all the Ambulance drivers go to smoke but it's no where near the Radio-therapy dept. at St. Anne.

Radiotherapy has its own entrance! No mixing with the hoi-poloi of the main lobby.

Then there are the parking spaces! I'd put a photo. I actually took one but blogger won't let me. Spots, just for little-old-us!!!

It was quiet and just a few people milling around. It was all modern, clean and quite. I got to see a Real Doctor, as opposed to an intern and no panicking over bone scans and no threats about starting in January. I'm coming back on Monday.

And I'm getting 9am appointments! Perfect timing!! I got to pick! It's so civilized!

Someone from Paul Strauss called about the study I'm participating in. I took the blood test and wanted to do this. I'm happy to continue BUT I'm switching to St. Anne. Sorry but that's not the protocol (I think they used that word just to annoy me). Fine. I'm out. Too bad. I even said something like "Oh that's too bad. If you can't be flexible..." I'll just go to a private endocrinologist. The Nice Doctor at St. Anne gave me a reference.

I have something weird on my thyroid that the blood test showed. I'll write about that later but it's not a huge emergency. But it means more doctor appointments. Just what I need! I'm running out of the alphabet (if you noticed, I've removed the doctor's names in this blog for privacy reasons. Tell me if I forgot one!) so all the doctors have letters. Luckily, the Nice Doctor at St. Anne has a letter I haven't used yet, or should I just leave her as "Nice Doctor"??

She was kind of matter-of-fact about my cancer. Really common, ordinary, yada, yada... I hope she realized that I was happy to hear that. I did mention my sister and she was a little surprised. Two sisters, cancers before age 50?? No, it was a different deal for my sister. Rare, no clear protocol (that word again!) recent changes... Not my story! Boring old IDC. Thank you!

It was odd that out in Robertsau, it was all frosty and beautiful. I had heard that it's a little colder up there. It was 1C and 2C in town. But since it takes longer to drive up there, I was thinking "Oh great, I'm entering another climate zone". I saw a Christmas tree seller and thought "Wow, he has all flocked trees" and realized what a bimbo I was. It was outside and they had FROST on them.

So I'm out of the study (boo-hoo) but they use Strauss's genetic counselor, who has already approved me for BRCA testing. Bingo! They don't even have anyone at St. Anne.

I also went to the physical therapist today. My life is sandwiched between medical appointments. 

You again??

No, they were nice. Back I was in radiology. Well, what a menu! they joked. There were quite a few X-rays ordered by my GP.

I was sitting along the wall, hoping no one would notice me. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder and Dr. N. was holding out his hand. Per French protocol, you're supposed to stand up but I just kind of compromised by sitting up, for lack of time (and being surprised). Hate when I'm called "Madame D." I think they're talking to my mother-in-law!

I was in so much pain taking Davina to school this morning. I could barely walk. I'm actually okay walking but stairs take me a moment but I can do it.

I like the X-ray that rolls back. They did the standing one and then put a pillow behind my head, while still standing. "Hold on!" as it leaned back with me in it. Sort of like an amusement park ride.

Then they threw me into the hall. Such a long wait! I wasn't in a hurry but thinking about my parking and our over-enthusiatic meter maids here.

Finally, when I saw him again, I told him I was in pain but the X-rays only showed a bit of arthritis. He thinks the pain is from my knee and radiates to my hip, because my hips are fine. My right hip had the worse displacement but "it's cured now" as he says. Okay... I showed him the worthless drug the GP gave me. "I can't figure this out without knowing what the generic is" he said, pulling out the info page.

You'll be better in a week. Great. I'll just hobble around like an old lady till then.

He said he was late because of another wire-marking procedure for surgery. Good excuse! Of course, we had to bring up the cancer. I'll get mammos/sonograms alternated with mammos/MRI's. I'm asking him, why do mammos when they're worthless on me?? He laughed. "Protocol". No, don't say that! But seriously, he explained that sometimes mammos can pick up things that are missed on the other two. He just had a case (older woman). She didn't have dense breasts, did she? No. Mine don't show anything. I kind of had to let it go. I got my point across.

I finally said what I'd been waiting to say. "Please tell me something so that I won't be having these third tumor nightmares??" We've done everything. The mammo, the MRI, the sonogram, he went on. We've seen what we need to see. We're as sure as we can be that there's nothing else in there. Not completely put at ease, but better, okay...

Then he told me a story that made my blood go cold. Woman who had a double mastectomy and had reconstruction, 10 years ago. She injured herself getting off the bus and ended up back in his office. Since he was X-raying her shoulder, he found something. Biopsy and bad news.

Nooooo! That's why women have double mastectomies!!! They're supposed to get "peace of mind" and not have to be followed, like I'll have to. My choice, theirs' is different. That's the philosophy. Chop off your boobs and not have to go through as much afterwards. Keep them and agree to additional treatments and screenings. That's usually what's on the menu for a breast cancer patient. All that surgery and she still got bad news! She has a good prognosis but it's just so unfair!

There's still tissue underneath. There are no guarantees in medicine, he said. I know that but my brain wants to categorize everything. Do this and that will or won't happen. Don't make it sound like a crap-shoot.

I think he saw the time and jumped up, said a quick goodbye and ran out of the office like the proverbial rabbit. I hobbled out of Adassa with my huge envelope of X-rays which are doing squat for my bad leg.

Problem is that I have two things going on at once. One is Very Serious and needs operating, etc. But I've never had a second of pain or problems with it. I couldn't even feel it. By contrast, I definitely feel my leg but it's not life-threatening so I'm having problems getting everyone to take it seriously.

I then went over to the pathology lab to pay for the original biopsy, a little late (the bill was a "rappelle") I didn't trust the rickety elevator so I walked up the three flights of stairs. "So this is it" I thought to myself "where my Fate was determined!" It was a very creepy looking building, in sharp contrast to Adassa's makeover. I couldn't see any labs but the place was a mess with papers. Hope your labs are more organized! Eek!

I tried taking a bath and that seemed to help. I also have put a towel under my knee when driving. Driving is killer for it.  At least I didn't get a parking ticket! 

Now I get it...

A few months ago we went to a Bris. No, it wasn't a Bris but they delayed the party so this was just the party...

Shut me up. Anyway, I see this couple I know who have two grown sons. So I ask how his sons are doing. Both are doctors. One, he said was an oncologist so he "doesn't like to recommend him to his friends." We both had a little chuckle over his joke and I moved on...

Well, guess what?? He said his son was an oncologist but he's really a radio-oncologist at Sainte Anne, married to my surgeon's daughter... I was joking with his dad only a few months ago about not wanting people he knew to go to him, and now I'm going to him...

I'm soooo not up on the Jewish community gossip. I just saw the grandson of both men at the Hannukah party. Sigh.

On a technicality, he won't be there. I met him when he was still a student ages ago (scary!) but I'm going to his collegue.

I woke up in pain so I saw BOTH the GP and my gynecologist today. I've done something to my hip and leg. It hurts to drive. I'm afraid of the arthritis, which apparently will get worse on the Tamoxifen, which I'm dreading taking.

She's sending me to get an X-ray. Great! All I need! More radiation... Poor Dr. N. will think I'm stalking him. Help! I have to go in and see them again because I can't read her handwriting and with my accent, they can't figure out what they have to do. Help! So dreading this...

Can't we just go straight to PT? I'm already doing it. The PT says we can just add it in.

No, we have to know what's going on first. Where have I heard that before? Oh yeah, the MRI! Just couldn't figure out why they insisted on that one...

Basically, I told her, when I sleep on the left, my sutures hurt. When I sleep on my right, my hip hurts. I'm kind of not winning the sleep battle.

My gynecologist thinks it's a good idea to slog out to Sainte Anne and do it there. Paul Strauss is closing eventually and there will be a big cancer center at Hautepierre, the major teaching hospital-right around the corner from us. In theory I could do it there too but who knows. She says since I haven't done the mold or the tattooing, I should be fine to change. I asked about my records.

"Why did you give them to them?"
"Because they asked." Ah, good reason. The ONE time I play the compliant Good French Patient!

As convoluted as it sounds, she wants me to call Sainte Anne and ask for them to be sent and not call them directly. She says they'll panic that I'm stopping treatment or some other palavah so if another institution calls, they know for a fact that I'm getting radiation somewhere.

She suggested I return to the pool and use a board. After my laughing at the ladies with their boards, just watch. I'll be one of them! She goes. She's going tomorrow at 7am (yikes!) She's like that. Skinny, disciplined... I can almost reach up straight above my head, which is my criteria.

She was very happy with the results. I've lost a little on the side but no big deal. The scar is healing nicely. Don't be in such a hurry to start radiation, she says. I could have gone to the U.S. if I wanted. Great, now you tell me. I reminded her that I couldn't have bought the tickets in time before knowing about chemo, which would already have been started if it had been a go.

She tried speaking English to me all of a sudden. Usually, that's annoying but she does speak it pretty well. I forgot the word for pituitary gland. I really, just forgot, my English! But we were talking about my stupid thyroid test. She thinks I can still participate but wants me to show the results to them at Sainte Anne. I'll probably need to see an endocrinologist for it.

She also ranted on about why Americans are so keen to do the double mastectomies. I read on the internet very light BC cases and they're chopping it all off. She explained, different culture and different medical system. French women want to keep their boobs. Fine. Get that. American women need the peace of mind of not being checked and having the all-clear that a DBX (as it's called on the net) can give them. Also, cancer treatment costs more than the surgery. I truly doubt that this plays a role but it's true that an American woman might be thinking "If my cancer comes back and I don't have insurance then..." a fear, the French woman doesn't have.

The American Cancer and Susan Komen sites had articles on just how effective BMX's are, or rather, aren't. They lower the risk of reoccurrence, but that is already very low. What they don't do, which Dr. G. told me, they don't improve survivability overall. I think women panic and just "want them off". I hate to judge but I'm kind of gearing myself up to defend my position on having the lumpectomy. It makes me sound shallow to say that I didn't want to have my boob taken off but honestly, I just didn't see any reason to do that. I've been checked for all these years. I'm really not afraid of it. Radiation? Heck, I'm from California. Walking across a parking lot is supposed to be the same amount as a chest X-ray. Okay, I don't really know. But I have time to look into it.

Getting either a single or double mastectomy is never really off the table. If I'm BRCA positive or if a more aggressive cancer comes back, we can talk. But I can't decide on "what-if's" and fear. As Dr. G. says, they don't grow back.

I am living my life in between medical appointments. I took Ronnie to visit a school he's applying to on Saturday morning. He was impressed. Let's see if he gets in! Also, Talia had a gymnastics competition in Reims on Sunday. We had a birthday dinner at a Chinese restaurant the evening before. She didn't do well and is not going to the French Championships. She will, but just to cheer on her friend who did get in. 

I caved...

I was driving down the street and I realized, I don't want to go to Strauss. Too many "stories" as they say in French. The taxi, canceling the apt., I can't handle that.

I really did want to go to Strauss. I wanted to do the Thyroid study. There was something weird on that thyroid test and I'm taking it to my GP tomorrow... Dr. G. said I can still do the genetic testing there. Just the radiation at Sainte Anne.

Of course, I have an apt. for Dec. 13th, hardly any earlier but...

Then he gives me a name and tells me it's his son-in-law who does the radiation therapy at Sainte Anne. Okay, now I get it. Mafia! At a Catholic hospital??

He didn't say "I told you so." I actually talked to him and he goes on about being "more comfortable, at ease" yada, yada. Fine. I'm being a Good Girl and changing!

At the apt. I mentioned that I had gained two kilos and that I missed exercising. "So what exercise do you do?" I swim, I told him. I think you can get back into the water next week. "Oh good! I do 30 laps at Schiltingheim..."  (the Olympic sized pool)

Without missing a beat "Maybe not..."

I posted that on FB and a girl who used to live here said that I should get a stationary bike because I can "parent at the same time". I need to get one because Daniel wants to use it and also, the pool is useless. Like I'm going to dive in with raw, irradiated skin?? Even if I can do it soon, it won't be for long!

Had my first physical therapy apt. today. She recognized me first. Oh yeah, the accent... That's a good memory. My last baby is almost 10 now! Yes, it was awhile, she said. Oh gosh. She never forgot the accent!

She had me doing some exercises that are similar to yoga. Basically, I can push things further. I was afraid because of the stitches but they're fine being pulled a little now. Healing nicely (thank you, tell that to the intern at Paul Strauss!) So she says the bra has to go. Oh yikes. Doing the exercises without a top. Gotta love living in France. Help! I'm bringing a tank top with me.

Unlike Dr. G who said I can wear a "real" bra, she says I should go back to the boob smooshers. I just want to feel normal again!

Stay out of the pool though. 

"I wanted to send you to Sainte Anne..."

Yeah, he said that. He had to!

I talked to Daniel and he agrees with me. Switching would be silly at this point. I'm signed up for the study and I'm all set with the geneticist. It's closer.

"But you know, it's basically a teaching hospital, almost like public... You know, interns..."

He kind of laughed at the bone scan story and was relieved when Dr. S. said no. "So she at least called?" Um, I kind of at least asked.

Exam time. I again said how happy I was with the results. I don't mind telling him again. A gushing happy customer! I am a little pointed in the wrong direction but you really have to look... and very few get to look there anyway! It might settle down more but he said, this is the end result. He's happy with the scar. To me, it still looks ugly but I don't care since it's so well place to be hidden under a swimsuit or bra. The stitches that the intern made a big deal about will fall out, he assured me. It kind of hurts when he prodded it. My being ticklish doesn't help.

He then pulls up his handy little ultrasound machine and looks around underneath. He finds a pocket of water (not unlike my many cysts) and then takes out this mother of a needle... Not another needle, pleads the pin cushion. And it won't be the last, he says, not very reassuringly.

It didn't hurt but I could definitely feel it. He had to move it around-yuk! But not horrible. Oh get this over with! He was getting a little frustrated. Can you even find it?? Oh, it'll absorb back in. Yes it will. Now get that thing outta me! No, I didn't say that. I was good.

He couldn't believe my family is facing this twice, less than three weeks apart, and there is not even a genetic link between us. He mentioned how his patients all react differently and that those of us who do have some kind of heads-up (either physical or family history), usually are a bit more open about it. In my case, I had three, light risk factors. He reminded me that there are plenty of women running around with all those cysts and dense breasts who will never get BC. They will have to be monitored more closely.

He quoted the statistics on genetics and I said to him "But that's BRCA". Yes, he knows. What I wanted to know was how many do they know there's a genetic component, but they haven't found the gene yet. That means, a heavy family history but for BRCA, the one gene they have found, is not it. They test negative. I know a family like that. He couldn't tell me. He also talked about the fact that there might be other genetic factors, not necessarily one gene but combinations. I know what he's talking about because of my hip displacement. Dr. W, the pediatric orthopedist who treated the two of mine who had this, said ages ago, said it might be several genes that combine, not just one, with my family and why the hip displacements skip generations. But I didn't mention this because once I get talking about genetics, I won't stop and at some point, you have to shut me up.

No, just wait till the 16th, he declared. But that's almost 4 1/2 weeks and John Hopkins (I asked them) said 3-4. He rolled his eyes and mumbled this business about how I was driving myself crazy. I hate waiting. A few days won't make a difference. Ugh. Okay, intern wins. Grrr.

I forgot to mention that the nurse called. I haven't really used "my" assigned nurse much. I started complaining about Strauss and then she stops me.

"So what were your results? You don't have to do chemo??"

Oops! Sorry you were left out of the loop! I told her clear margins and lymph nodes. Skip chemo and go straight to radiation. Good.

She doesn't "know" Strauss. Ugh. Her too. Yeah, I know. Stupid me not going to Sainte Anne...

Hannukah party... Hello Dr. G.!

Yes, I ran into Dr. G at the Hannukah party in Lingosheim last night. It's a small synagogue and every year, the three communities rotate the Hannukah party between Wolfisheim, Obernai and Lingo (we tend to drop the every-present "sheim"s in conversation here). My husband goes to Wolfi and the president of that community has a daughter who had BC at age 45. It was a much more dramatic story and she was also operated on by Dr. G. The mother saw me at the door and warned me. Good thing as I was all ready to meet him.

So funny seeing him not in scrubs and not in a white coat!! I introduced him to the kids in English (he always wants to speak to me in English so this was his chance!) He hadn't seen Ronnie since he was a few weeks old. We also got to meet his wife.

I did recount my little adventure with Paul Strauss to him, cutting it off by telling him I do have an apt. on Wednesday morning. "I trust your opinion more than some interns!" I emphasized. I don't mind feeding his ego. Wait till he sees what I look like! He'll be really happy with his "work" when I whip off my top tomorrow morning. I didn't even mention that. I did to a few female friends who were there that night, very discretely. French women appreciate these things (not seen as being superficial) and also, I simply don't want them to fear this darned disease or worry that it'll ruin their looks. My message is, probably not if you get yourself checked. No, I'm lying. I want them to know that not much has changed and for them not to pity me. That's more honest!

The Person In Question back in California is doing well. Also, no lymph node involvement with clear margins. She had a tiny tumor but it's gone now. Soooo happy for her. Wish all women had our story!

Radio-theropy got a little snippish with me over the phone. Dec. 16th and not before. Sigh. A month later. But that's more like 5 weeks! I'll shut up now, and just wait for Dr. Gottenberg's "more appreciated" opinion. If he wants me in there earlier, he'll arrange it.

He also said he could send me to Sainte Anne. It's not too late. Tempting... but....

Earlier today, the genetics dept. called. I talked as if testing was a done deal. I didn't even ask. I just gushed on about how happy I was since I had two daughters... HINT. 

Radiation put off!!!

Argh!

I went over to the lab and got blood sucked out of me again, for the...um... fourth time since September?? This was for the thyroid study so I can't blame them but if I had known about it earlier, I could have consolidated them a bit better and avoided being poked so many times.

Just as she was going to stab me, the phone rang. It was the famous intern to told me simply that I wasn't "enough healed" to start radiation and that my apt. for today was cancelled.

Okay fine. But then she mentioned fifteen days.

Fifteen days?!? Okay, if I had some nasty, immense infection but I'm almost done. Ugh!

Luckily, I made an apt. with Dr. G so I'll get his opinion on this matter. He was happy with it!

I'm wondering if I should say fine, let's wait to January... Then run to a travel agent and try to get a last minute deal to salvage our Christmas break!

Maybe not...

I guess I got to go with the flow...

Found out that someone I know is being operated on for almost the same, exact thing. Unlike myself, it was completely a surprise. No family history, etc. She has taken it on board completely differently than I have. She has not told many people and doesn't want to talk about it. I respect that but I wish I could tell you that it's all going to be okay!

Some women are more discrete and it might be their way of coping. They also might get more support closer to them. Mine is kind of sent over the miles!

I have been rather open about this all but perhaps it's because I've been, in a way, living with this possibility for so long. The boogie man who finally came out of the closet after almost 30 years and we jumped on him as soon as he did. I also want to urge women to get checked. I hope her outcome is as good as mine was! Maybe not so long a wait for the radiation??

First Radiation apt. at Strauss

I didn't get zapped. I thought this is the pre-apt. for getting the tattoos and the mold done.

Wrong. It was just admin stuff. An intern examined me and filled out a lot of papers.

There was some confusion. First, she was upset that a bone scan hadn't been done. I was a little surprised as I thought (I could be wrong) that would have been done back when I was diagnosed to check for metastasis. Since I was clearly an early case and all my other checks were clear, I was wondering why I needed to do this at this late stage, since I'm getting CAT scan in a few months anyway.

I don't like to speak out too quickly so I let her call the boss. Also, I mentioned the genetic testing and she said it could be done there. When she got off the phone, it was yes to the genetic testing and no to the bone scan.

Whew!

I actually contacted another clinic who gave me a name so I'll have to write them back, thank them and tell them that Strauss will do it. They're doing it based on being Ashkenazi, having another young case in my family and the fact I have two daughters (who can't be tested until they're 18).

She also asked a lot of other questions, ranging from whether I had told my kids (she was glad I had) and what my background is. Of course, being American, when she asked about my "background" I had to make a distinction between my nationality and my actual ethnic make-up. When I got to the fourth country, she stopped me, laughing "Oh, a real Melting Pot!" I didn't dare tell her I wasn't done but let it go.

She then asked me if I wanted to participate in a study having to do with radiation effects on the thyroid. I said "yes" quickly because my sister's cancer started in the thyroid and other members of my family have had thyroid issues so thought it would be a good idea. Basically, I have to do one more apt. (I have to many, will I even notice?) with an endocrinologist and I have to have (yet-another) blood test before I start. I'm such a pin cushion, I really don't care at this point. It's a big plus for me because I'm now going to have my thyroid followed, for free! Can't be a bad thing.

Except it meant even more paperwork. I don't know how many volunteers they get but they were all excited. This very lovely lady appeared. They explained that I can exit the study at any time, without explanation. I told them that my son was participating in another study on his enamel so I kind of knew how it works. Some strange "quality of life" survey of just 5 vague questions... The survey is based out of Reims but they're using patients from all over France.

She took a lot of my papers. The one thing she did give me back was my MRI, which is the one thing, thanks to turning Adassa's radiology dept. upside down, I do already have...

I did see they had a copy of the tumor board. I looked and saw a bunch of names I didn't know. Dr. Gottenberg and a lot of his partners were there. A radiologist's name I didn't know and there was an oncologist. She explained that they were radiologist-oncologists. Regular oncologists mainly deal with chemo patients, so I won't be seeing one at all.

I also saw the list of who did my surgery. I noted the name of the anesthesiologist. "Il etait beau!" I said half jokingly. My anesthesiologist was pretty hot. I joked that he picked the wrong speciality and that I was tempted to stay awake, just to look at him. We were all laughing. Anesthesiology really is suited more for those without looks or personality and it was clear he had plenty of both!

During the exam, she wasn't happy with the healing of the scar where the lymph nodes were removed. Probably because vain-me decided to wear a bra a couple of days ago. I was so determined to be "normal" again but it didn't last long. I'm back into the boob-smunching sports bra until it heals. She wants me to go back to Dr. Gottenberg and I made an apt. for next week, when I got home.  She said it will probably delay my treatment until January (!!!) That had me in a panic! I've put my LIFE on hold lady, to start this right away! (then of course, I'm thinking last-minute deals...)

After all this, the survey lady walked me down to the actual therapeutic-radiology dept. The nurse said we can probably start the 16th. That was a relief but I'm not holding my breath. She was also pretty positive for getting me 8:30am apt.s, which would be really nice and out of the way of the kids' school. Of course, she pointed out the school break but that's 2 1/2 weeks, vs. the five weeks of radiation.

That was another little panic. I thought I was supposed to have six weeks of therapy. Write that down as a question for Dr. Gottenberg!

There's a lot of the right hand not knowing what the left hand is doing here. I wish some of these stories were kept straight! I'll get to the bottom of this, when I start and for how long... but I wish they were all singing the same tune. I could have made some Xmas plans!!

I have already spent three seconds on researching various creams for radiation. Turns out, they want me to use nothing. I then asked, if it doesn't look and/or feel good, then what? Totally get the not-wearing-any-cream to apt.s but what if the area gives me trouble? They will tell me what to get. Okay, I'm in France! I still have some pure Aloe lotion somewhere in the closet... (what all the BC ladies on the internet rave about).

My apt. was for 9:30 and I ended up spending the entire morning there... I'm having trouble with my right leg. It's probably a repetitive thing from the car, similar to the problems I still kind of have with my knee. That's probably what got her going about the bone scan. The stupid leg is more painful than the scars.

The physical therapy question was also kind of left in limbo. Which PT should I go to and who can recommend one? My gynecologist didn't know. They sent me back to Dr. Gottenberg. They didn't know but they asked him and they gave me the two names he recommended. Of course, he could have told me that at the apt. but oh well. I picked the woman who is near the kids' school over the man. Who cares? I got an apt. for next Friday and we'll see from there. I was warned on a private FB BC group page that I may not be able to continue. My report says only two lymph nodes were removed so it's doubtful that I'll suffer any lymphoedema problems, or "fat arm" syndrome, as it's called in French. That's more for women who had the more extreme mastectomies but Dr. Gottenberg said it's "preventitive". I figure it won't hurt and I have so many apt.'s anyway.

I am very pleased with what it looks like. After the surgery, it was all bruised and twisted around. I wasn't upset. I figured being pointed in the wrong direction on the left was a small price to pay for being cancer-free and at almost 50 years old, one can only be so vain.

But no. It's settled down and now, the headlights are focused straight ahead. Yeah! Also, I can't tell any missing "mass" that Dr. N. warned me might happen. So far, it hasn't happened and I'm surprised as two tumors were removed. I might still find out that it's not entirely true. I might still be seeing swelling that's covering it up. A tip I got on the net was to later lean over. But really, anything that needs leaning over to check, isn't worth the worry.

Also, the scar is very well placed. The lymph node scar will be visible if one really looks at my armpit, which few should be doing. The big 4 inch scar runs along the side, and completely under any swimsuit or bra, unless I lived in Brazil, which I don't (and not any suits I should be wearing at my age anyway!)

On Thanksgiving, I put a photo of my lab report with the statement "What I'm grateful for this Thanksgiving" on Facebook. Ironic as I barely understand it but it was true. It was actually Thanksgivingkah on Thursday, the only time that the two holidays will collide. We ate just escalope of turkey and then lit candles. Last night, we went to services were Davina barely sang. She spent more time yakking with her friend Sarah. Both looked like very naughty girls! 

A Real Bra!!!

Thrill of my life, for the first time in 2 weeks, I'm wearing my own bra!!

I had it on when I arrived at Adassa. I went down to Radiology to get the wires inserted and the ladies there told me that they were running late. I should go back and put on something more comfortable so I wore a tank top with a zip fleece jacket on top. Last time I wore the bra.

I put in on this morning instead of the squish-boobs sports bra I've been wearing. My incision is okay now.

But this is short-lived because once the radiation starts, I've been warned that it'll have to go again. I'm supposed to wear something cotton. Yeah right. Where am I supposed to find a cotton bra here??

I found a website selling gear for BC patients. Wish I had seen that earlier! Doubt they ship to France but I'm sure someone will oblige if I need to go that route.

I'm kind of hesitant to buy anything since I don't know how bad it'll be.

I talked to one of the gymnastics moms who isn't a nurse but works as an aide at the hospital (trained position here). She told me that it's not like I can take any cab. It has to be some sort of special ambulance/taxi service and I'll actually pay with my "Carte Vitale", issued to those on the French medical system. I'm sure I'll get more precise instructions on Friday.

I went by Radiology at Adassa and picked up my clichés without incident. I mumbled a few apologies along the way. Managed to dive out of there before anyone arrived. It's good now because I can send Francis the whole file of his own, without giving up mine. 

MIA "clichés"

First of all, the news. My sister is BRCA 1 & 2 negative!!!

This is very good news because mainly, it means I'm probably also negative. I did contact a lab here in Strasbourg and they gave me the name of their geneticist. Yeah! But I'm more happy for my sister because a BRCA gene can mean some hard Angela Jolie-type decisions to make. Women with the gene have to be more vigorously monitored and/or have various female parts removed, and are usually given a choice as to how they want to proceed.

BRCA is associated with some of the more aggressive forms of BC and mine's pretty ordinary.  But what's looming is that there's the possibility of other genes being discovered in the future. BRCA's are only a tiny percentage of BC but I have to consider the fact that my daughters, even if I too, am negative for this, could find that we have yet-another gene in our DNA somewhere. Maybe I didn't pass it on, if I have one?

I still will do the test, more for the fact I do have two daughters who are probably going to have to be checked like I have been, gene found or not.

So far, I don't have my pathology report. It should arrive today with the Rx for Physical Therapy. So far, the only cases of lymphedema are in more serious BC patients. I haven't heard of any lumpectomy patients getting it but I might be mistaken. Dr. G wants it as a precaution.

They didn't have my other papers and Dr. G's office said that Radiology at Adassa would have it. When I called, she said she had them and gave me the choice between picking them up or sending them. I'm in the neighborhood so I said I'd come by.

I was standing at the counter when she handed me two pieces of paper. Um, where are the images? You don't have them. No, I said so she started calling. She thought maybe they were sent to my gynecologist. No, they didn't have them. Maybe Dr. S. who did the MRI? I told them that he took them that day and that I approved... They had to call him at the Mammography place in Schiltingheim. No. Ugh.

The young one who accused him of being "mean" says "You know, you should check again. Sometimes they slide them in with all the other papers so it isn't obvious". Yes, that's what I'll do! I'll go home and look again. I felt so badly for the mess I'd made. I was kind of glad for an "out". "Did you all want to do anything else with your afternoon??" Admittedly, there were a lot fewer patients with Dr. S. over at Schiltingheim.

Now I've managed to turn their office upside down, looking for my "clichés", as they call them. When who comes sweeping in, but Dr. N. Ugh. I was trying to not be obvious that I was going to take these to get a second opinion. I'm not trying to hide anything but when he walks in and sees them all running around like little chickens without heads... He shakes my hand and picks up the phone... and arranges to get a copy of the CD.

I babbered some sort of apology and assured them that I'd look at home. "Ça n'est pas grave!" he insisted (no big deal). Just come back tomorrow and it'll be at the desk.

As soon as I walked in the door, well, after dropping Davina off at gymnastics, I took ALL my papers and dumped them on the kitchen table. I went through each one. Well, guess what?!? I found them but they were really mixed up. I found the mammograph with the wires (which makes for one funny-looking boob!) and the other CD. Ugh! I feel like such an idiot.

Now, I'm going to have to go back there to pick up the CD. I'll make profuse apologies and hope their Catholic upbringings and lessons in forgiveness serve them well. I'll also pray that Dr. N. doesn't walk in! (should I go on Thursday morning when I know he's at Schiltingheim??)  

Dreary but Zen Weekend

Cold and wet here, so depressing but I'm so much more zen than I have been in awhile. I slept over nine hours last night. I do a fake left-side sleep by crunching blankets under my left side. I can't actually lie on my left yet, even with the new bra/tank top thing. It was the first night, since I got my results and I didn't have to wake up early in the morning!

It still hurts but I only take pain killers at night, or once in awhile during the day if I did something stupid to hurt my left side. Glad though that it is all on the left so I only have one area to baby.

Not doing much except stuff around the house. Basically waiting till Friday when I go see the radiologist-oncologist (or is it an oncologist-radiologist??) Bet he won't even be an oncologist! Don't cancer patients at least see an oncologist at least once? He's the head of the therapeutic radiology dept. at Strauss.

I went to services last night but didn't stay for dinner. There's something peaceful about going through those familiar words, although, I don't always remember what it all means. I've come a long way with my Hebrew since I took that class. Even when I don't know the words, they start to jump up at me and I'm recognizing them. With Jonas, I never get lost. He goes nice and slowly. He kept his sermon short, thank goodness.

I got to tell everyone the good news.

One of the gymnastics mothers said how brave I was. Hahahahahahaha...! You didn't see me two weeks ago, when I was completely undone about the second tumor? Brave, me? Huh??

Dr. G wrote me back and his secretary called. He's sending me the Rx for the PT and a copy of the pathology. I'm supposed to get the MRI from somewhere. I wonder if it's Radiology at Adassa. She said "the service" but that was unclear. Maybe Strauss? I'll start with Adassa.

Of course he puts, in English, "don't worry".

Arrrrrrgh!

I'M NOT WORRIED. I JUST WANT INFORMATION.

I even wrote a little blurb about how I was ever so confident in his care, blah, blah... I do feel like I was in good hands, every step of the way. I'm not questioning them. I just want to know the facts!

Sigh. I'm not out to change this guy. I'm the foreigner who does things differently. I have to be diplomatic but when it comes to my health, I want to know. Some doctors are actually fine with it, like Dr. N. (although, he might just like the mechanics of it all and keen to show off to those who are legitimately interested). This "informed patient" stuff is not really what they're used to.

It's hard for me because he has a lovely, comforting manner. It's just I gotta know.

Hope the pathology report says how big those tumors were and how many lymph nodes he took. If not, I'll bug him again!

One Month after Diagnosis & Visit to the GP

I found exactly a month ago today. It seems fast in a way but in another way, it took ages. So much in so little time. It could have been even faster...

I finally stopped by the GP's, and got my flu shot.

She looked at my stitches and declared that I took off the bandages too early. It was only last night. The tape part bugged me. She put another one on and told me not to shower there.

Good one. How the heck am I supposed to do that??

She's so happy about my results.

I also emailed Dr. G again. He seems better about email than questioning him personally. The GP said it's probably because he looks at his emails when he has time, isn't in a hurry and can answer them when he wants.

I'm curious how and when to do the Physical Therapy. Am I supposed to do that or does he at least have a name??

Part of it might be because I'm getting instructions when I'm distracted at his office. I'm in so much of a hurry to get it all in.

This is why they say to write it all down!!! Like I took this advice?? I do write it down but inevitably, I forget to bring the list!

I bought Fu Fish to celebrate. They were festive and even though Chinese New Year's is still awhile off, they brightened up the kitchen and remind me how lucky I am. The Chinese character for good luck is in four places on them.

Horrible, grey day here. But I'm happy and confident. At least for now, no more anxieties about waiting on test results. 

Tumor Board Day

I'm feeling very reflective and zen today. I know that the Tumor Board is having their monthly meeting at Adassa this afternoon. Dr. G and Dr. Nguyen are there, as is an oncologist, whom I don't need to see now. I figure they'll probably spend all of 5 minutes on me, since the steps to proceed are obvious. I'm sure.

Will someone mention that I've lived under this shadow for 30 years? And in a few short weeks, it was history??

It all so doesn't matter now. For them, it's time to move on to the next patient's battle, an investment of  time and energy into a fight I never had to face, but many out there do.  

Told Dr. N. myself the results!

I tried to call Dr. N. with the good news but he wasn't there. They left him a message. I didn't want him to find out from a piece of paper or at the Tumor Board tomorrow.

I was so happy last night that I scampered out of the Dr. G's office, without *paying*. Oops. So I get a little call this morning...

I dropped by, before getting the older two at school, and paid the bill. I then looked at the time and realized that I had about 20 minutes. I was next door to Adassa and the Radiology Department so I stopped by. Don't worry about the message, I told the staff, I just wanted to give him the good news myself but you can tell him for me...

Then, of course, he walked in. He was almost defensive. "Bonjour. Got your message. I haven't had time... Is there something wrong?" Um no. The results, no, he didn't know and I told him. Big smile. "So it was cancer too! So good thing I hooked both of them!" Um, right.

Then I went to thank him when one of his staff interrupted "Noooo! Don't do THAT! If you do, he'll become an egotistical maniac and be mean to us *all afternoon*!!"

"Since when have I been "mean" to YOU??" he said through gritted teeth to the one behind the computer. I was having trouble visualizing him being mean to anyone really and quite frankly, when going to thank someone for perhaps saving one's life, perhaps a bit of egomania is in order??

I had obviously chosen the wrong audience for my Hallmark Moment. Still, he dodged from behind the desk to run over and shake my hand.

See you in a few months for the CAT scan!

The Results!

He didn't even wait to sit down or close the door.

"The results are good. I just got them now. Lymph nodes clear. Margins clear..."

I started to tear up.

I wasn't even there for the results. I was afraid that my incision was infected and I called him the day before. I tried to see my GP but she wasn't there so Daniel suggested calling him.

"I can see you at 5pm tomorrow".  That was a little late but I couldn't reach the GP the next day either... and I think I was hoping he'd know by then...

Bad timing as far as picking up the kids but Daniel was quickly recruited to the task.

I was non-functional all day, as my previous post attests.

I walked in and told them that I probably didn't have an appointment but that he had instructed me to come, to take a look. Odd, they said. He's operating today. She called the OR and no one answered.  She tried somewhere else and was able to leave a message that I was there. Just take a place, as they put it in French...

I waited about 45 minutes and then heard his familiar voice. He was still in his scrubs. I had probably been to the bathroom 3 times since I arrived and had to go again... Then I sat in his uncomfortable chair for quite awhile before he came in.

I forgot the ask about the size, since there was conflicting information. The only "bad" news was that the second thing was indeed, the same cancer. It's called a "bifocal tumor" that grows in two places at once. It made me feel even more like I had slipped by danger. It's out and the margins were clean. No second surgery for me and that means that the cancer had not progressed beyond that area.

I'm in theory, cancer-free since the surgery.

Now, I go straight to radiation, no chemo necessary. He made me pick between Sainte Anne and the Paul Strauss Cancer Center and I went with Strauss. He was clear that there was no difference medically but Sainte Anne was more "human". Fine, but it's also a lot further away from home. No, I felt better in an actual cancer center next to the Civil Hospital (where I was hospitalized in 2009). I have to go there every day so I might as well make it as easy as possible.

He looked at my wound and changed the dressings. He even did an ultrasound with this very tiny machine in his office, to make sure there was no trapped liquid. There wasn't any. I hadn't had a drain, post-op, which is often the case with lumpectomy. The threads are dissolvable so no need to have them removed. I'll need physical therapy, if only to prevent any problems with that arm.

I did ask for a second opinion on the lab work. He looked at me in shock so I had to say it. "Don't tell me no one else asks this??"

"No one asks this," he confirmed "No one at all!"

Oh boy. This might be a tough one. Then he starts explaining that three pathologists, he's worked with for a long time, did it and he trusts them immensely.

"You are going to drive yourself crazy with all this."

"No I'm not. You remember how I was during the pregnancy. I need to know. I do better when I know what's going on."

I didn't need a battle that evening. I was just a little overwhelmed with it all and eager to get on the phone and let everyone know...

I need a pre-radiation appointment but he's seeing me before then.

I called Daniel, my mother, sister, in that order and then came home and put it on Facebook. I also sent a text to a nurse friend here. Now, I'm out to get the word out.

I'm now officially a poster-child (adult?) for early detection. This is a whole different experience than it would have been two years from now. I'm so slobbingly grateful, I don't know where to start!!!!   

Another Go Away World Day

I just can't function today. Daniel has just left to pick up the kids. He took them too. I haven't been out of the house.

I'm going to see Dr. G at 5pm. I tried to reach the GP but she wasn't there. I gave up.

It hurts and I don't feel well. No temperature but it might be psychological. I do that. I'm just so upset about hearing the results. I keep telling myself, worst case, I get chemo. THAT'S ALL. Really. I'm stupid. I'm a baby. I'm just not handling it very well...

I just read another BC blog. She has stuff going on on both sides and it's 3.8cm. She's already been told she's headed for chemo. Why am I being like this? Chemo is not really for sure for me in the first place! Mine's only on one side. I still have both boobs (unlikely she'll be so lucky). I am lucky. Why don't I feel like that right now?

How am I going to drive like this?

I did get some stuff done. I had a plate of pasta with olive oil for lunch. Not too much oil. Salt. That's all I wanted, all I could eat.

This is the last step for now. Whatever next, is treatment. The surgery is behind me, as are most of the tests. There will be more but for now, I just want to hide from it all...

Is This Normal??

My bruise is turning red and creeping up. Ugly, ugly, ugly...

I went to the GP's office and she was closed. Unfortunately, she doesn't work till tomorrow afternoon and it's by apointment only. Great. What if she's booked? Ugh. I even brought my flu vaccine (in France, you have to get your vaccines yourself at the pharmacy, I can explain more...)

I could call Medecins SOS. Anyone who has seen Micheal Moore's Sicko will know what that is. House calls! They still do them here, but it's a service and you get whatever doctor. I did it once with my H1N1 adventure in '09. But I was not into that idea. Explain it all again to yet-another medical person...

So I called Dr. Gottenburg. I told the secretary that I tried going to the GP. He was "in consultation". Fine. So I get to play this game, just like with all the other doctors that's like a lottery. You keep calling and hope to catch them not "in consultation". Kind of like one of those boardwalk games...

Second time lucky. I'm outside the school, calling from the car with girlfriends walking by and wanting to talk and having to lip "It's the doctor", like it's so easy to lip read foreign lips...

Okay, I start off by saying "This is my first surgery and I don't know what to expect!" He jumps in with "...and I hope it's your last". Well, what if I want a tummy tuck?? No, I kept myself from saying that OR "What if you didn't get the margins and I'm going back in in two weeks".

I resisted both!

I then described the mounting red bruise. "I don't like that" he said. I don't like when doctors say that, I thought. Fever. Did you take your temperature? No. I felt yukky but not feverish. Fever is key? Yes, basically, if my temperature is normal, I'm okay. He could see me 5pm tomorrow. Nice clash with Talia's gymnastics... No, I'll try to see my GP. I'll make the attempt. I'll come if I can't, how's that?

I did say that I know that post op pain is normal and I'm not terribly suffering but he didn't insert a drain and I'm not sure if I'm "evaluating" my pain right. I told him that I know he was doing pas mal des choses in there (basically, enough digging around getting two tumors and the lymph nodes out). He chuckled.

I just can't sleep on my left side. I can deal with the pain as long as I'm not afraid that there is something more seriously wrong. But I'll use any fever as a gage, especially since I'm coming to see him Wednesday morning anyway.

Last night, in the middle of the night, I actually dug out the sports bra I had worn during the day and put it on. It really helped! Hope it's not squishing me too much.

All day at Talia's Gymnastics competition

I did okay.

Had to get up at 5 in the morning. I couldn't drive so we had to go with another family, who had to be there earlier than we did.

Oh well. It was nice to have company at least!

Talia came in 5th of 12th. Won't be showing off any photos because BLOGGER WON'T LET ME.

End of rant.

I was talking to the club photographer, who loves taking pics of my pretty daughter. We were chatting about other things besides CANCER. Kind of nice but nooooo, various parents came up to me.

"How did the operation go?"

"How do you feel?"

"Up and about, already??"

So I had to fess up. I said, as casually as possible "I was operated on Wednesday for Breast Cancer..."

"You too?!? My wife had that seven years ago..."

And off we went in Medicalese. They had to go back and get the clean margins. She did have to do chemo, etc.

She's FINE now!!!

So funny how we bonded. We got into other subjects (remember, I was there all day so I had plenty of time to chat with everyone, including the photographer). But it got a lot more animated. He ended up taking my email and promising me to send the originals so I could blow them up...

Hated to tell him that I've been stealing his photos off the net for years!

It's like this Secret Society of Breast Cancer Warriors, Survivors and Family Members out there! It's like the disease that's invaded us silently for years...

I just need to get to Wednesday to hear my fate!!!

Now that the Dreaded Operation is over, which turned out not to be something to dread at all (except for that darned Morphine!!) I can kind of reflect on it all. It's hard to express but I almost feel like it's my battle to fight. I don't want it to take anything away from me. I don't want it to threaten anything that's close to me, that I cherish.

It's hard to explain. Maybe it's because I found a comfortable place, psychologically and then got knocked down before. I don't even want to write for fear I'll go back later and read it and think "pathetic chump".

I'm going over everything I could hear Wednesday.

-Whether the margins were clear (if they weren't, they have to go back in)
-Whether the lymph nodes are clear. It's more about the very idea that the cancer has started to spread than any dread of chemo, really!
-What the heck was in that second "tumor"?!?
-This one is remote because the first tumor was small but if the biopsy missed nastier cancer cells and that it's more aggressive than the biopsy showed. The reason this is not likely is because of the small size of the tumor.

Glad those blobs are out of me. It hurts on my side but it reminds me that they're gone.

Yesterday, I was in pain and then bought a few, cheap sports bras from Decathalon (French chain sport store). Feels sooooo much better. So stupid something so basic relieved that pain! It's all black and blue now, even before the bra. I'll go to the GP tomorrow morning...

First night home

Ouch! All I can say is "ouch!".

It hurts. I can't sleep on my left side. No sympathy from Ronnie, who rambled on about how I couldn't "snore in his direction".

It's like someone took an axe and chopped me on the side. It doesn't even feel like "breast" surgery. It feels more like I had an accident. My boobs are fine. My side is all black and blue.

The doctor finally came in the afternoon. He proclaimed that I would be just as well at home than there. He wants to see me Wednesday for the results.

What time? Do I have to make an appointment?

10:52. Very funny.

When do you open. 8. I'm here. I drop off the kids at school and I'll be there...

Eek! But there's nothing to do now but wait.

Mother made it sound like this is unusual, to have to wait but I've asked and it turns out that a week is normal for what it takes. The stories we've heard of patients getting results when they woke up were very specific. They had the lab do a fast freeze test of some sort. I'm happy to not have a false result and just wait till the two tumors are all chopped up and analyzed.

He was very poker faced about whether I'd need chemo or not. I guess he's seen too many exceptions to the "rules" on these tumors. The thinking is little tumors=no lymph node involvement.

I have a nurse assigned to me and all these other privileges being an Official French Cancer Patient. I don't have to drive myself to my treatments. I get a taxi. This sounds ultra-plush but the reality is that the Christmas market is starting soon and traffic will be a nightmare, let alone parking...

I got a list of services that I can use. The nurse explained quickly how it would work. Chemo would mean a port by the end of the week and I could start almost immediately. It would start out once every three weeks, and work up. I could choose from Sainte Anne in Robersau or Orangerie. The latter might be the breast clinic. If I go straight to radiation (yeah!) I can go to Straus (the cancer center) or Sainte Anne. I've been to all of these, thanks to my mother-in-law's medical crises years ago.

Radiation can't start for 2-3 weeks, until this mess heals up!

There are some other possibilities. A friend was sent to get "clean margins". This was a shorter, second surgery. If they don't like the margins, this could happen. Just mentioning it!

Then there is the whole "what is the second tumor" question. There could be, in theory, a nasty surprise.

If this pain isn't better, I'm going to the GP on Monday. I'll take my flu shot (which you have to buy yourself here in France). It'll be a good excuse to discuss it with her again, and to get a better pain drug that doesn't involve aspirin products.

Talia got out yesterday at 4pm, which was convenient as she had just enough time to pick up her sister and they both walked over to Adassa. Then, Ronnie came home with Daniel. We had promised whether I was in or out of the hospital, he could come home to his own bed.

He got 5 Euros tip for carrying a suitcase to the room. His first "earned" money!

The internship sounds like it's gone really well. He hated making the beds and cleaning the rooms but I assured him that a career in hotels would not involve that. They just wanted to show him how it works.

Today's his last day. He looked so handsome in his black pants and white shirt leaving! 

Read previous post first

cont.

I was happily wheeled back to my new room. I saw Daniel and the girls in the hallway. Unfortunately, I was too cranky and in pain to enjoy seeing them again. It was dark by now.

The nurse and the girls put my stuff away quickly. They said good night and left with Daniel.

The problem was that I was okay in bed but when I moved, I started to vomit, well, dry heaves since I hadn't eaten.

I was under instructions to not use the bathroom without calling a nurse. It's all kind of a blur now anyway. I was able to sit up, no problem, walk to the bathroom, no problem but the minute I tried to brush my teeth or do really anything, the dry heaves came back.

At 3am, I was up. I called my mother and sister (separately) in California and looked at Facebook and my messages on my cell phone. I was basically jetlagged, without the fun of having gone somewhere.

Both Dr. Gottenberg and my gynecologist stopped by early in the morning. Of course, my gynecologist scolded me for the small package of biscuits I had on the table. "Calorique!" She's always nagging me about my weight. "They're diet biscuits". Still bad. "I'm hypoglycemic." She wasn't impressed.

Everyone wanted to see the bandages.

I got up late to shower and the nausea was gone. I was able to move around finally.

I got some visitors in the evening, including Daniel's cousin who brought Ronnie over to see me. Sorry I couldn't share in his internship experience this week.

Reporting from Adassa...

Still in the hospital. Not sure if I'm leaving today or tomorrow.

I had a lot of visitors yesterday and Daniel brought me the computer. I don't do well without a keyboard!

I did get my wish to check in Wednesday morning since I wasn't scheduled till 3pm. I had the 10:30 am "harpooning" with Dr. N. though. I debated driving the kids, coming back and then making my way over but I was too much in a state that morning to drive.

I woke up early, too nervous to really sleep and just got everything ready to go. I then woke up the girls and got them out. Ronnie was at the cousins' in Barr doing his internship.

I put my bag in the car and we had to exchange cars since I was behind him in the garage (hate having a garage where one car blocks the other but two-car garages are so rare in France, I shouldn't complain!)

Of course, there was a big jam on the way and Talia was late to school. Davina has an extra 10 minutes so she's never late. It was hard saying goodbye but Talia was miffed and stomped off.

As soon as I arrived, I was in tears. I've never been so nervous in my life about anything. Having my first operation is one thing but also, the whole emotional rollercoaster of getting both tumors out, having that harpooning done and getting the results... Turns out, I won't get the results till next week anyway so that wasn't an issue. But they promised to give me something to calm me down after the markers were put in place and after the shower, not before because I had to cooperate and be alert (if a little teary).

I did all the admission stuff. She took all my paperwork and promised to return it when I left. They were very nice and apologetic about the room not being ready.

The room wasn't ready so they put me in another one. The program was that I was to go down, get the markers put in place and then head upstairs, shower for the surgery and then away we'd go! When I left for radiology, Daniel said goodbye, planning to come back before the surgery. He had to run to his office and he got something to eat near the hospital afterwards.

Dr. N. was running late. I saw him in the doorway. "Did you get the MRI results?" I asked him immediately.

"Yes. I have them here. I'm up to date on everything. Don't worry!!" but then, he told the technician that since I was an in-patient, it was useless to have me wait there. Go back to your room, she told me and come back in half an hour.

It was nice that they didn't make me wait out in the waiting room. There was direct access to radiology from the rooms. She also told me to get rid of the bra and jacket and put something more comfortable on top, when I came down again.

I came back and they told me that they had three patients yet to go, but one was just getting her results. He came by to apologize but I told him, if I'm the only in-patient, he had to prioritize the others, since they could go home. He proclaimed that no surgery could take place without his markers anyway. I also couldn't eat lunch, so that wasn't a factor anyway. Nothing to do for 3 hours until surgery anyway!

Finally, when I got in the room, it was good to talk to him again. My worry was that since the second tumor was only picked up on the MRI, could he find it on the ultrasound? Dr. G. said that if he knew where it was from the MRI, Dr. N. wouldn't have a problem. He found it in three second flat. "It's not much" he said very non-committedly. From my uneducated eye, it didn't look at all like the first one but I didn't want to discuss it, since it was coming out anyway.

The marking would be similar to the biopsy but he warned, it would take longer. Same procedure, almost. He did the local anesthesia and he had to press down at certain points to get the wires in. I couldn't see from my angle. He told me when he got the first one in and then did the second. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. The nurses had warned me earlier that it could be.

Done! Now, sit up. I hadn't eaten since 6am and it was now noon. I was all emotional and I did feel a little woozy. He kept asking me if I was okay. I was fine, I assured him. No, look at me! I did and he then said "Time for the mammogram!'

Ugh! A mammogram? Now?? With these wires sticking out of me. Careful, careful with the wires... Felt weird, although it didn't hurt.

Then, I had to stand up, with the famous wires sticking out and try to put pierced boob between sheets of glass. "Are you okay? Are you sure? Look at me!!!" He even grabbed my arm.  I looked at him but he wasn't impressed. "Sit down here". Chair was conveniently located right behind me. Then he wanted to do another image and his very nice assistant was getting snippy about it. "You didn't tell me that! So which one..." and so on. They were really late, the office was closed and they had this dizzy, emotional patient patient sitting there...

He couldn't put a bandage on until he knew for sure that the wires were in place. He was happy with his work. He called the nurses station to send someone. He made it sound all formal "Could someone come down to accompany Madame D. to her room?" They didn't want me going up by myself. She arrived and I asked about the image. "Do you want to see it?" he said eagerly. The nurse looked annoyed but I stepped over to admire his work. They did look like whale harpoons...

Finally, he could bandage it up. He didn't cut the wires but they were covered well with the bandage so I could take a shower.

So off I went for my new adventure. Daniel had called me while I was still in radiology but couldn't get in because it was locked from the inside. He had to go to the room.

Earlier, during admissions, I had asked about my hair. They make you take a shower with the disinfectant junk and it's bright red so I wasn't keen to put it in my hair. I braided it up in two, "Heidi style" as I like to call it, to show them how well I'd have it out of the way. I explained that getting it wet again would mean having to dry it and re-braid it again. Compromise? Perhaps they could swipe it with another anti-bacterial liquid? No, the hair was fine. I had to wear a cap anyway. They asked if I had washed it that morning and I said yes. I was good to go.

That made the shower much easier! I was so nervous. The stuff was not horrible but not easy to wash with and I took my time. As I was drying off, with the disposable towel, the nurse delivered a small pill and instructed me to take it with as little water as possible.

It did do the trick. I wasn't as nervous but I was still alert. I even started to fall asleep.

Because I wasn't in my assigned room, the aid had trouble finding me. So at about 2:20, he arrived with a wheelchair.

Whew! I thought it would be a guerney.

Daniel said goodbye and blew a kiss in the elevator and down I went to the OR.

They then put me on a guerney and covered me with a heavy blanket, then left me in the hallway. I saw people being wheeled in and out, which would have freaked me but didn't because I had taken my little pill. The anesthetist and the anesthetic nurse came by and introduced themselves. My IV was put in place. Then I saw a masked, familiar  face. I thanked Dr. G for calling me Sunday again. I popped off the mask so I could see him smile. See you-right away!

They wheeled me in and transferred me over on to the table. My arm was placed to the side on a special stand. They explained that was so he could have access to the area. I didn't like it because it looked like those lethal injection tables but I guess only an American would think that! I didn't say anything...

The nurse said I didn't have to have the mask. It smelled funny. No, not necessary. I was shivering. She had some sort of tube with hot air she blew under the blanket. "Is this typical? To tremble like this?" I asked. "No!" they laughed. It didn't matter. Think of somewhere nice... and then I was out...

Next thing I knew, just like everyone said, I was in the recovery room. I felt fine but ouch! Pain!! They quickly added something to my IV. It was morphine, 20mg and I was not going to have a fun reaction to it...

I survived!

I'm writing this in the hospital on an "unsupported navigator", or in other words, my iPhone. I'm not on a real keyboard either, so I will keep it brief .

The harpooning went well. I'll put the details but it was not uncomfortable at all, as I had been warned. It was a little long but at least I was kept occupied and Dr. Nguyen was happy to explain it all.

I then did the shower and got an exception to the hair (yeah). There was a slight delay for the OR. Dr. G. said hi on the hallway.

No real problems with the anesthesia but I was in pain. 20mg of morphine helped but made me very nauseas. In bed, I'm fine but any movement sent me into dry heaves. Now, I'm on Tylenol/Paracedamol and ice, which is working fine...

Again, if you're on Facebook, you can view my posts. Both last names work and you don't have to be friends with me.

Probably the last pre-surgical post!

Sooooo nervous about tomorrow.

Slept badly last night...

I had to go to the Nuclear Medicine Dept. at the cancer center. Very strange place. Seeing those nuclear signs wasn't comforting. They also had complicated door opening and closing systems. A lot of people running in and out of closed doors. It looked cold and again, very 60's. I was ready to "duck and cover"!

Once inside though, they were very nice.

Procedure today was strange but not difficult or painful. They injected some sort of slightly radioactive solution into my breast. I had to wait two hours. Luckily, the cancer center isn't far from home. I returned and they put me under this strange machine that looks like a less-modern CT Scan or MRI. I only had to stay still 10 minutes. The doctor marked my breast for the spot and they gave me an envelope for the surgeon tomorrow.

By coincidence, a friend was put under today for a D&C over the border in Germany. She gave me a blow-by-blow description, fresh from the outpatient experience.

Still scared. Still a sissy!!!!

Big relief-the Surgeon Called!!!

If you haven't read about the MRI, skip this and read that first otherwise, this post might not make much sense!

After a not-restful night, I decided to email the doctor in the morning. Just after noon, he called.

NO CHANGE TO TREATMENT. The only difference is that he's going to take both out at the same time. They're small and close together (lucky me) and the only thing is that Dr. N. has to lance me with two harpoons, instead of one.

Will he be able to find it, since he missed it before? Yes, he assured me. Once they know it's there, they can hunt it down by ultrasound and lance it.

Only one node, the Sentinel, will be taken out. In the U.S., I know they go and get more but not here. I'm zen with that. The logic is that once the cancer has spread, it's spread and it's Chemo time. I hope not but again, I'll do what I gotta do to keep on this planet another few decades! No fat arm problems. I was so dreading that.

No talk of mastectomies.

The evening before I had a long chat with a double-lucky survivor. She had some great insight. She also tried to get me mentally ready for a possible mastectomy, which last night, wasn't that far from my consciousness, and unscaried the whole deal. I needed to hear that. It was nice talking to someone who's been there.

This afternoon, a few hours after talking to the Surgeon, I called an English friend's mother who is also going through this. She's about a month ahead of me. There are some differences. Only one lump, less radiation (probably because she's post-menopausal) and no MRI. But basically, the dye, harpoons and surgery were the same. She had one small setback too. They had to bring her back in to get clear margins, and did. I guess everyone has at least one bump in the road. Hope this is mine!

But she was very positive too. The surgery, no big deal. The after care, no big deal. The dye and harpoons don't hurt. One thing she said that the other friend couldn't (unfortunately) was that I had had babies. How can I be worried about pain with this?!?

The surgery is "just a little sleep". It wasn't even very long, she assured me. Keep telling me that!

Just what I wanted to hear.

I think I'll go have a glass of wine with dinner tonight. The last two days have been veeeeeeery stressful! 

Wrote my Surgeon

I'm so glad I got my surgeon's email last Monday. I wrote him in my terrible French that they found something on my MRI, just in case Dr. S. hadn't gotten to him first. I explained that a second "something" was found, 10mm, 3cm from the other tumor. Also, that I'm getting the dye injected on Tuesday at noon and if my surgery date is reported, we have to cancel that...

I feel better after talking to my mother, then my sister, who happened to be taking a hike over the new Bay Bridge with a BC survivor friend. OMG did she set me straight!!! So nice to talk to someone who relates. I can't do that here. I don't know anyone here and they don't do groups here.

I've had some support over the net, a couple of sites...

It's just all scary, scary, scary.

Damn this long weekend! Why did I have to find this out a Friday afternoon before a 3 day weekend?!?

Go away World

Just needed a day to hibernate and hide from the world.

I woke up and felt like I'd been run over by a truck. Okay, an exaggeration but I realized that I had been too busy to drink all the water they recommended after the MRI. It was probably that stuff in the I.V. that did it. So I started drinking.

Basically, I'm drinking, running to the toilet and repeating the process. Had some tea just to have some variety.

Being bad. Looking up BC information. I'm still limiting myself to well-known sites (Mayo, About.com, Breastcancer something) that are geared for us unlucky ones with this disease. Staying away from anything "alternate" or meant for professionals.

The mastectomy pictures were scary. I just can't handle the idea right now. I hope that's not my reality...

I couldn't take Talia to practice. Just need to hide behind this computer, feel sorry for myself and cry. I know that I'm still lucky with this disease, so much luckier than others but still... I'm just feeling overwhelmed. 

The MRI experience, not so good...

I stressed over finding the place. I know the neighborhood as being one of the ones I always manage to get lost in. I printed up trusty Googlemaps but turns out it's right near the entrance of the Hopital Civil, where I was for my H1N1 adventure. There was also a parking lot right across the street.

The decor was very 1960's at Strauss. My cleaning lady told me that it's a scary place, since it's a cancer center. Her mother was treated there but this was my first time walking inside. I didn't find it scary at all. I did find a bunch of people smoking outside a bit, well, gauche. I mean folks, a cancer center?? I had to walk through a thick cloud of carcinogenic blue smoke to just get inside.

Turned out it was an "open" MRI. Thank goodness. The only problem is that I didn't take the time to really get comfortable. The bar at my forehead started to really dig in and I had trouble breathing because of how the table pressed down on my diaphragm. That was because of the boob holes I had to lie over and let my thingies hang. Both could have been easier if I had taken two extra seconds to situate myself better. It was a very long 20 minutes.

It wasn't as loud as everyone said it would be. It wasn't quiet but it wasn't horrible either. I wish I could have picked the radio station though. I ended up with Top 40's followed by a broadcast of a soccer match in Colmar. Oh yeah.

The techs were nice, all young women. We were talking about the machine afterward and one kindly informed me "Well, most of our patients are actually here because they have cancer..." I kind of smiled. "Includes me! I'm being operated on Wednesday for Breast Caner." Oh!

I had to wait awhile to see Dr. S., who is Dr. N's partner at Adassa. He had bad news.

First, the tumor is bigger than the two previous estimates. 28mm or 2.8cm at the longest point. Ugh.

Worse. There is a second "site of concern". There is no way to tell if it's cancer or not. It's only 10mm and 3cm from the tumor.

Dr. S. thinks both can be removed in the same surgery and that it won't change my treatment. Still, I'm a little dizzy imagining all sorts of scenarios... I'm worried about mastectomies and chemo. I'm not even sure they'll have an impact. I'm just not sure.

One of the school moms just asked her doctor husband, who said that in theory, from that second-hand info, it shouldn't change anything.

Darned this long weekend! Monday is off and Dr. S. couldn't give Dr. G. my results yet because we were over at Strauss.

I went to services tonight with Davina. 

MRI day!

Thinking of a childhood friend who just had a mastectomy yesterday. Heard she's doing well and eager to get home. She had to travel to have it done.

Today finally, is my MRI. I'm a little nervous. I hope I can stay still for that long. I'll eat early so that I don't have to deal with any digestive problems during ;) It falls awkwardly at lunchtime. I'll plan on getting the kids afterwards.

Yesterday, I did all the hospital admin stuff. I talked to the anesthesiologist, who was a bit dismissive about my antihistamine issue. I did ask for anti-nausea stuff. She asked me about the pre-op meds and I said half of whatever, just in case. Not in the morning because if I'm too loopy, I'm worried I won't be cooperative with Dr. N. He has to put in the filament to guide the surgeon. My apt. is 10:30 so they have enough time.

I also had to see an admin person and then a nurse. They decided that my blood-type card was too old, since the last time I had anything was Davina's birth 9 years ago. So yet-another blood test! She did it well. They put it over the bruise from the last test just a few days ago! Can we coordinate things better people? Feel like a pin-cushion already!

I did relent and look up the two procedures that Dr. N. is doing. Let's say, I'm glad I'll get them done by someone I know and trust! The surgeon said he does these very well. The dye has to be injected the day before. Sounds yukky but I'll be a Big Girl. The filament sounds strange. I emailed a friend who had this done to ask her what's involved. I assume the string will be left inside the boob. It's removed during surgery. This is a procedure only for very small tumors which are not easy to find. Bummer to have yet-another step but glad I'm in the category.

Just for curiosity, I looked up About.com's info on biopsy. Now, I'm staying away from Dr. Google as advised but I do look at trusted sites which are geared towards those of us facing Breast Cancer. I don't look at anything for medical professionals. The Mayo clinic has great pages. They're really short and only tell you what to expect and what stuff is. If you want more information, you have to click. Psychologically, this works great. You can stop at any point.

The biopsy procedure shown was very different than how it was done with me. I was on my back and they showed a woman lying face down with her boobs hanging down. I have no idea but it probably was because of where my tumor is, very off-to-the-side. The hanging position wouldn't have been too useful!

So my sister is getting tested for the BRCA genes. They didn't want to do it unless I tested first. She told them that I'm not getting it done now, since my treatment isn't that complicated. Some women get it during treatment to decide between say, a single vs. double mastectomy. I'm not facing any mastectomy and probably no chemo. I'll just get this done and then face BRCA testing later.

They claimed that two relatives wasn't "enough". She citied that we do have a small family, so there's not that much "info" and one relative is a sister who lives abroad. They took it to the chef and they relented. She's getting tested.

I will do it, whether she's negative or not, since I have two daughters.

I'm trying to cover all my bases while I'm gone. This is done as an out-patient procedure in the U.S. so I'm a little miffed at the two-night stay. See if I can negotiate getting out on Thursday. At least the kids can visit me after school. They're only a few blocks away. They go to the public schools for people who live in that sector. I arranged that another mom take Davina over after school on Thursday, who lives nearby.

I'm also planning laundry, food and other practical matters. We have a long weekend and it's not sure what will be open on Monday.

Still nervous about surgery but nervous like getting-on-a-rollercoaster nervous. I don't feel like I'm in peril.

I'm going to services tonight. My favorite rabbi (I'm collecting professional, by the way) will be there. He's also American, married to a Frenchie and comes from Paris to do services about once a month. I did tell a couple of people ahead of time. I hope they don't fuss over me. I'm bringing Davina because she has a class beforehand of Talmud Torah (since Sunday is cancelled due to the long weekend) and I'm begging Ronnie to go. He is resisting because Daniel often takes him to Saturday morning services in Wolfisheim (booooooring!) because they don't have minion. Ugh. He's negotiating to get out of Saturday if he comes with me.

Now off to look up this MRI place, see where it is, etc.