Depression worries me and Farrah inspires me

How Farrah Fawcett helped me to handle being on disability when I wanted to return to work

I deleted my post from Thursday about going back on disability. Those of you who read the blog through the RSS feed (direct emails) got a chance to see my thoughts. I deleted it because I was worried about any fallout from discussing the job in a negative way.

(shrug)

I didn't say anything bad, but I was pretty emotional when I wrote it and I didn't take time to reflect on how I was feeling and the best way to approach the matter.

Bottomline, I'm back on disability. I was sent home on Thursday because the people in my office didn't think I was doing so well.

When you feel like you're doing something great... but other people feel like you're a mess, how do you cope? 

Rest in peace Angel. Farrah Fawcett

Now that I've had time to think about it and reflect -- and also consider the sudden death of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett's death after fighting cancer for 3 years -- I have calmed down.

The truth is that sometimes other people see you in ways that you cannot see yourself. I live in a bubble of sorts... I'm surrounded by people who love me and want to see me survive and thrive through this latest challenge. So, to hear from strangers (over the phone) and hear that people who only vaguely know me (my co-workers) that they are worried about my abilities... really was devastating.

Will this set-back cause an emotional fall-out? Good question.

Lately, I've been very concerned with my emotional health. Not that I feel like I'm doing very poorly emotionally, but some days I do struggle. Some days, it is HARD, hard, hard. I am not as angry as I was months back but the sadness... it is always pretty close by. And that frightens me. I haven't been diagnosed for a full year yet. So I want my life back now... it is too hard being a patient 24/7.

Although I wasn't exactly thrilled with my job after I returned (things were very different)... it did get me out of the house and among other people. Being put back on short-term disability felt like being pushed back down a staircase you've worked hard to climb. I've been kicking myself, asking myself what I could have done differently, done better. And I don't know. There's always something that I think I can improve upon. I wonder if I'm too hard, not hard enough... am I doing this right?

There are no easy answers.

The research tells the story about depression and breast cancer - and it is a scary story. 

True to myself... I did a quick search for depression and breast cancer and also suicide and breast cancer. (yes, I did) I had to see for myself what was out there, what others have dealt with and gone through just to see where I fell on the scale.

I was mortified to learn that black women breast cancer survivors are almost 3 times more likely to commit suicide than other survivors. This includes a period of up to 25 years beyond breast cancer. Wow.

Now, to put things in perspective, the number is relatively small considering the number of women who have to handle breast cancer... so its not like we're talking about an epidemic. But there is definitely a reported number of women who struggle with depression during and after breast cancer. And a small number of those women end up committing suicide.

Its a frightening thought.

I know, talking about depression is well... depressing. I know. Keep reading though.

I looked up depression because the fear of depression coming into my life scares me deeply. And the emotions that bubbled up on Thursday reminded me of a darker period in my life. I needed to head it off at the pass.

Naturally there are lots of reasons/contributing factors to the depression that are directly linked to breast cancer treatments -- including taking tamoxifen for hormonal treatments. I've been prescribed tamoxifen...to help prevent recurrence.

Arrrghhh... is there ever an easy answer, an easy choice on this journey?

Right this moment, I am trying to motivate myself to go to a birthday party tonight. Earlier this week, I really wanted to go. Now, I'm not sure. But then... after reading about depression and suicide and breast cancer -- I feel like I need to force myself out of the house and interact with people.

I think I'm going to go. I need to mingle among other people and laugh and feel free for a little while. I refuse to go down into the pit of depression.

Re-

Fuse.

I love this picture. It reminds me of my childhood.
Designer jeans and Nike Cortez's were my standard outfit
in high school. Riding a skateboard... something I
loved to do. Go Farrah!

Farrrah was amazing... and I love her for fighting her diagnosis to the end. Cancer didn't take her easily and it won't take me easily either. It is all about perspective. 

Farrah Fawcett has never been a "hero" of mine. Well, maybe when I was a little girl and she was one of "Charlie's Angels". But generally speaking, I've only thought of her as "fluff"... pretty much the way I consider most entertainers. Though I didn't get to see her documentary her death touched me deeply. Every time I learn about another cancer death, it affects my mood and my spirit. Farrah's death actually has been more difficult for me than Michael Jackson's death. Because I know that she has exercised a lot of faith, a lot of courage and a lot of strength just to live to June 2009.

Click here to buy Ryan O'Neal's book.

This has been an emotional and difficult week. Dealing with the death of others always makes us loook at our own lives and wonder about our mortality. Farrah had a rare form of cancer and she fought, fought and fought some more against it. In the end, she was frail and in pain... but she still fought. I admire that kind of strength. I don't know if I have it or not... but I certainly hope so.

The faith to keep trusting doctors, the faith to keep trying new treatments, the courage to get on planes and fly between countries looking for answers, the faith and the courage to say yes to the marriage proposal of Ryan O'Neal...the courage to keep smiling, and keep filming... through the pain and through the knowledge that the end was near.



In retrospect, while I was disappointed that I was sent home... I have to remember that in the end, its for my benefit. If I'm not strong enough to work (even if I feel like I am on the inside) then I should take the time to allow my body to fully heal. Pressing myself to do more than I'm able to will only slow down my progress. And the goal is to completely heal from breast cancer.

Today Farrah is definitely my hero.

If I had enough hair, I would rock the "Farrah flip" in her honor. But instead, I will put on some snazzy trousers and some heels and go to this party like nothing's bothering me and my body is in perfect health.

That's all for now... How do you get beyond feeling bad about things you cannot control? I can always use new ideas to shake off the blues.

being uncomfortable with vulnerability

I have trust and commitment issues.

There. Its out in the open for all to see and to comment. I've been working on it --on my perspective about love and relationships for awhile now. And until recently, I thought I had made good progress. But today, I'm back at zero -- wondering how to have faith in someone else. Faith that they understand what it means to love someone, what it means to be a family. And I'm wondering if its really possible to risk everything on loving (and marrying) someone.

Lately, all sorts of information has been coming my way and shaking my faith in love and in people. I want to get married one day, and have a family. At least in theory. But wow... marriage is a scary concept if you marry the wrong person. You could lose EVERYTHING, including your health or your kid's health.

In the best of situations, love is risky and scary. But having cancer, and having one boobie... isn't the best of situations. I would list all my ailments and issues but the specifics don't matter. What matters is that I'm a vulnerable sister right now. And I think about love a lot.

Thinking about the wedding yesterday and the faith that it takes to agree to marry someone and stick with them -- come hell or high water -- has consumed me today. Like everyone else, I know many people who are living in miserable marriages or going through traumatic divorces. My heart aches for them.

People in love seem to have an innate ability to practically cut the heart out of the person they love, if they are angry with them. No one can hurt you more than the person you love. I've been hearing some tragic stories of love gone bad. People losing their homes, finding out that their spouses are sleeping around or sleeping with prostitutes, and so forth... scary, scary stuff.

None of us are perfect. And even though our intentions aren't usually to hurt someone else, sometimes in trying to take care of self we stomp all over our loved one's feelings. I've done that and its a hurtful feeling knowing that you've hurt someone who loved you. But its worse when you're the one who has been trampled on.

In a tenuous economic time like now, and when I'm physically not at my best and somewhat reliant on other people to be at their best or at least true to their word... the notion of love is a very daunting one. I find myself questioning how anyone finds the strength to be vulnerable to another person. How do you risk losing everything in order to love and be loved by someone else?

I know there are no easy answers. And I know logically that the real answer is that you have faith. Faith in God, faith in love itself. But my heart... my heart is screaming that its just not possible. I go back to my question from a few months ago -- who's gonna love the cancer girl? And more importantly...will they be able to stand by their word and stick by my side?

I'm still thinking about Fran's death. Her husband was by her side all the way to the end. Even after he lost his job and found out that his wife's cancer had returned... he was by her side. Rubbing her feet, sitting with her at the hospital. Every day. Love like that -- love in action -- is rare.

Knowing that you are dying of breast cancer has to be devastating. But watching your wife/loved one dying of breast cancer and CHOOSING to be there anyway, every day, no matter what... that's incredible. That's strength. That's love.

Misuse of the "Cancer Card"

Using the "cancer card" is a privilege...and I squandered it

I spent the evening at a very lovely wedding of a good friend. Weddings are tricky for me because I hate going to "couple" events solo. But, I almost always end up in that predicament. (shrug) What's a single girl to do?

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to witness the union of my friend and watch her joy and happiness. And since I am on a mission to continue to push myself out of my comfort zone -- and spend time among the living -- it was a good way to spend the day.

I've been to many weddings in my day. For awhile, I was on a wedding fast. But I've since gotten over that (gotten over myself really) and feel privileged and honored when asked to share in a couple's magical moment of wedded bliss. Generally speaking, I love and enjoy just about everything about a wedding... except the bouquet toss.

I've been "single" all my life. And no matter how many times I have been called to participate in the bouquet toss, it never gets any easier to stroll to the front of the assembly and let it be known that yes, I am single and yes, I do hope to get married... someday to someone. So much so... that I will (in my good clothes and high heels) momentarily "fight" another sister (actually a group of sisters) for the opportunity to grab some good fortune in love and be the one who wins the bouquet toss.

Lots of good intentions... I'm sure that the bride wants her single friends to experience the love and devotion she's feeling on that day. But, for the forever single (like me) it just feels like more of a bulls-eye on my chest. Honestly speaking... I tend to sit out the bouquet toss. Good intentions aside.

It was my intention to sit out the bouquet toss tonight. I was a little tired. The day had gone long AND I walked around in 4-inch heels all day. I wasn't exhausted, but I had definitely lost a little pep in my step. Imagine the look on my face when I heard my name (FULL NAME-first and last) announced on the microphone to come to the front for the bouquet toss. My "date"... another good girlfriend, was called out too.

We were stunned. Had to laugh at the shock of it. But the classic moment of hilarity was when the maid of honor (another friend) came all the way to the back of the room to get us for the bouquet toss... and I tried to use the "cancer card".

As smooth as you please, when the maid of honor told us we had to come to the front... I tried to play my hand.

"I'm not going up there. I have cancer. I am tired."

I know. I know. I should be ashamed of myself.

It was a blatant MIS-USE of the cancer card. My "date" looked so shocked when I said it. She fell out laughing when the maid of honor replied...

"I don't give a damn about your cancer. You have been summoned to the front, so get to stepping". And then she stood there, mean mugging me, daring me NOT to get up and participate in the fun. Only a real friend would call you out like that. :)

My cancer card was soundly (and quickly) rejected. And it should have been. I was being a punk. And would have missed out on a happy memory had I remained hidden in my seat at the back of the room. After it was over, I was glad that I did it. That quick moment made me feel like a part of the day, instead of just a witness.

I didn't catch the bouquet (not too surprising). BUT... the maid of honor did. It was a set-up, and a good one. I smiled all the way home thinking about it. Karma is something else. :)



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let's talk about cancer and money

As I type this, laying flat on my back with a heat pack on my neck/back... I am thinking about all the other devastating ways that cancer ruins lives. I just read a financial blog posting about bankruptcy   and cancer and it forced me to think.

Its not enough to have a disease that could kill you, and its not enough to have treatments for the disease that make you feel like you're dying... cancer rips apart relationships by putting more strain on them than they can handle. Cancer also wrecks your financial future because the cost of treatment is enormous. If you're fortunate enough to have insurance through your job, the hit may be minimal. If you're not so lucky, or if you have to supplement your insurance with state/federal assistance... not only will you have to suck up your pride and grow some patience to get through the madness... you will be stuck with huge HUGE medical bills.

The number 1 reason for bankruptcy in this country is CANCER-related medical bills. At my last chemotherapy session, there was a gentleman sitting beside me who was paying for his treatment himself. I overheard the administrator talking to him about it when he asked how much his treatment cost for that day. I nearly fainted when she said that the total was over $16,000! For one day of treatment, almost twenty thousand dollars. Keeping in mind, depending on your cancer treatment you may need anywhere from 4 infusions to 20. Can you imagine? He asked about discounts for different things but he didn't qualify for any reduced prices because he wasn't using insurance. While insurance is helpful for all of us with it, insurance pays a reduced rate for the procedures, medications and treatments. For example, my chemotherapy infusions cost my insurance company $5000 each treatment. (just the infusion) Whereas this gentleman was going to pay triple that amount. Assuming that we were receiving similar treatments (from a financial perspective)... that's a drastic difference.

I don't know how they (the man and his wife) paid. He seemed stoic and calm when the administrator was talking to him. The wife seemed much more nervous. I wasn't involved and I wanted to cry.

And that's just treatment. The other things that people don't tell you about is that once you find out that you have cancer, you need to change your entire life basically. What you eat, what you drink, what you bathe with... what lotions you use, what you use on your teeth... depending on where your cancer is... your clothing is different, maybe your teeth are affected and so on. EVERYTHING is different after the day you learn that you have cancer.

I'm going to talk about something really "silly" but important for me. Bras. As many of you know, before cancer I was spending a small fortune on my lingerie because my breasts were much larger than average. And since I'm a girl who fully appreciates and expects luxury... I bought the best and prettiest lingerie I could find in my size. That meant that while many sisters were scooping up deals at Victoria Secret's for $20 or less for a bra, Nicole was spending $100+ for one bra. I bitched and moaned about it to myself but it was my reality so I accepted it.

Fast forward to now. I can't wear the bras I used to wear. Not because of the size - I have a prosthesis that I could put into the regular bra to wear. But because of the underwire. Bras created for larger-breasted women almost always have underwire in them to provide support. I've been told that there are bras for larger breasts without underwire - though honestly, I haven't seen any yet.

I cannot wear underwire because its too constricting for my chest. Since the surgery, some of my chest area is numb. Underwire could rub, chafe and eventually cut my skin in my breast area because the skin there is still very fragile and sensitive. And numb. So I wouldn't feel the destruction taking place. My doctors -- each of them -- have warned me repeatedly not to wear underwire bras. So, I have beautiful lacy items that I may never get to use again. Waste of money. And int he meantime, I need to find new items to wear that fit well and appeal to my sense of style.

Drama. Its not just finding bras and then paying whatever price they cost just to have them. Its finding a massage therapist who knows how to work with cancer patients to assist in helping me to get my body back. Its finding a physical therapist to work with, to get my range of motion back. Its keeping lots of suncreen (spf 70) and bug spray around to protect my skin. Suncreen to protect my very fragile skin. And bug spray because the slightest infection in the arm that was affected by my surgery could trigger lymphodema.

And it goes on and on.

Yesterday I talked about my back pain and how its driving me crazy. It is. And I continue to push myself because I want as much of my life back as I can get. I hung out yesterday and am paying for it today. I knew when I decided to hang out that I was making a choice but I needed the time I spent with my friends, so I hoped that my back wouldn't protest too much.

Eh. Its hurting something serious today but I will force myself to get moving soon. I just want to feel like it won't get really worse today.

But all of that to say... it costs to be sick. Beyond the active treatment of your disease, there are considerations about your lifestyle that you have to consider.

So... when you talk to someone that you know is dealing with an illness, if you're in a position to help them -- buy a cup of coffee, or something like that -- pass that kindness along. Although we're all feeling the pinch in this recession, the pinch isn't the same for everyone.

I've been reading and researching diet changes and I don't know how I will afford to eat the way that so many people believe is best to keep my chances of cancer recurrence low. Whole foods, organic produce, etc. cost a lot of money. Juicing daily, though good for you, gets expensive. The herbal supplements and such... are not cheap. But it is a balancing act, where somethings go up in the budget, other things will have to come down. And some dreams may have to be washed away.

I haven't figured out what I will leave behind in order to make these other things happen. But something will. It has to. I am single with no children. I've read horror stories about women with breast cancer whose husbands left, leaving them alone, sick, scared and broke trying to raise healthy kids in the meantime. Some women have lost their homes, trying to be treated for breast cancer. I know that I've been bitter and angry about my relationship ending... but I do feel blessed that at least we weren't married and then broke up. As much as my heart has been broken, my finances were not affected by the dissolution of the relationship. Not to be callous, but that's a huge relief - I'm sure for both of us.

Thinking about planning for retirement while paying medical bills and adjusting to higher living costs... is where my head is right now. Having fun, squeezing it in when and where I can, is priority for me right now. When I close my eyes and think about the ways that my life is different today from a year ago, there is still a lot of anger there. But its not as much as was there 6 months ago. And 6 months from now, I pray that it will be even less.

It is a good day. :)

my d*mn back hurts -- and i'm SICK of it

I've been trying to "play nice" and just go with the flow.

I've been trying to convince myself that this ache and this pain, in the middle of my upper back was temporary. And if I just soldiered through, it would eventually go away.

Its not going away.

Its not getting better.

And I'm very damned annoyed about it.

My typical day goes like this... wake up, feeling groggy and nauseous. (That means I took my sleeping pill and I have to suffer through the nausea) The alternative is to wake up, tired as hell because I didn't sleep all night - thanks to hot flashes and sweaty sheets/pillow cases.

Drag myself out of bed, try to stretch my stiff left arm, slightly massage my breast "nubbin" and head to the bathroom. After doing what I do in there -- included scrunch-faced inspections of my mastectomy scar and the discolored skin from radiation (that doesn't appear to be changing back like I was told it would) -- I get dressed and head to work.

Now, all of this takes about an hour or so because I move slow. Just as I get to the subway station, my back starts to hurt. At this point, I've only been up for less than 2 hours.

I make it to work, smile and shuffle around the office... do what I do over there... and then I sit at my desk. Basically, I'm on super-duper-light duty so mostly I answer phones and talk to the never-ending stream of building workers who visit our new office trying to work out the kinks and complete the decorating of our space.

So I sit. For hours. And by the time my few hours are up...

I feel like someone has wedged a damn HATCHET into my back. Every move left or right, is a twinge. When I stand up to walk, I have to brace myself because not only are my knees and hips tight now (which causes me to walk funky) my damn back hurts so badly that I just wanna lay down and curl up into a small ball.

I pop tylenol like they are mentos. And I self-talk all the way through the rest of my day. Some days are worse than others, though I haven't noticed any correlation with the weather or anything like that. (Which reminds me, I'm almost out of my handy tylenol)

Every day.

Its so damn annoying.

I've been joking with people that since I'm lopsided, my back can't handle the stress of carrying just one super-boobie. Not really sure if that's it, or if its something else. I spent a little time this morning searching the breast cancer message boards to see if any others have experienced similar pains. And of course, I am not alone in my misery.

I did find it strange the the major complainers about back pain where women who had undergone bi-lateral mastectomies. You would think that with no boobies, there would be no pain. But, that's obviously wishful thinking on my part.

The pain is prompting me to look into my reconstruction surgery options and see if I can possibly move my expected surgery date up a few months. Right now, I'm planning for October or November... but I don't think I'd be upset if I could move it up to August or September.

I'm going to try massage as an option to help with the back pain. There is a massage school in the area that offers free/reduced massages for breast cancer patients. I actually had an appointment for last week and forgot about it during my emotional meltdown. Rescheduling it was challenging because it has to be scheduled in a certain time interval around my chemotherapy.

(I mean, really, does every-damn-thing have to be this hard and this complicated? Seriously?)

At any rate... today's post is a whine and a complaint. My back hurts like hell. I'm going to keep doing what I do. Keep moving forward. But all of this drama... its for the dang birds, I tell you.



....totally unrelated though, I'm looking rather cute today. :) So, there's always that.

the healing balm of family...

I decided last week that my emotional health was in jeopardy and that I needed to do something to turn the tide. My grief and despair over the death of Fran was deep and was growing everyday. I needed to do something different and I had to do it quickly.

I decided to go to see my family in Alabama.

Those of you who know me, may have heard bits and pieces about my Birmingham family. My mother is from there and several of her siblings (and their children, grand-children, etc.) still live there. We try to have a reunion every two-three years just to get together and see one another. Catch up on everyone's lives, so to speak. My family is LARGE. Very, very large. There were 16 siblings, and all but one had children. Two uncles and one aunt have passed, along with my grandparents... but for the rest of us, we try to make an effort to see each other (or some part of the family tree anyway) every so often.

I had not personally been to Alabama since our reunion there in 2003. And when I thought about it, I had not been to the last reunion either. I was overdue... and with all that I've been through and all that I'm looking to go through... it was time.

I'd detail the trip but, let's just say it was worth it. Family is family. Whether we agree or not, like one another or would rather stay gone... family is family. I saw relatives I had not seen in many years -- like 10-15-20 years in some cases. We reminisced about stupid things we did as children. We discussed what we were doing with our lives as adults. And eventually, at a smaller gathering... we discussed my breast cancer.

It was the last night I was in town and it was a small gathering of "the grands" at the home of one of my cousins. (that's a tradition of its own, anyway) And we discussed breast cancer, the treatment, our personal responsibility to check our breasts and so on. It wasn't a difficult conversation -- this was my family -- and for once I could talk about it and not cry.

I did talk about my cancer with one of my aunties a few days prior and I was close to tears then. But by Sunday night, I was feeling stronger about this journey and it didn't bother me to talk about it. I love my family... all of them. Even the crazy ones (I'll let them figure out which ones those are).

One of my aunties died from breast cancer. And I have thought about her everyday since my diagnosis. I looked around at all of the women in my family this past weekend and prayed. The statistical numbers say that 1 in 8 women will have breast cancer in their lifetime. My aunt Vinnie-Lee was 1, and I am 2. I am praying that those two lives will serve as a protective balm over the remaining women in the family.

Family is family. The love of family can truly soothe what ails you. Now, no one in my family is trained in oncology medicine and none of them can help me with my breast cancer treatments... but they helped me a lot by treating me just the same way they always have. Loving on me and cracking jokes.

I hope I left them with a good memory of me.

say a prayer please

There are millions of people right now... living with cancer in the United States. And a large number of these people are breast cancer survivors. I don't know if its something in the air, or the phase of the moon... but it feels like a really heavy week emotionally and physically for many of us fighting breast cancer.

My facebook friends can tell you... my status reports these past couple of days have been somber and sad. My heart is very heavy. My body is going through something -- maybe its nerves and anxiety -- and I've been sick to my stomach for days now. I don't think I've picked up a bug, but I will continue to monitor myself for any other changes.

But I think that I, as well as all the other breast cancer survivors (including family and friends) could use a prayer boost right now. Cancer attacked my body and I've been fighting it since day 1. Now, something is attacking my spirit and its dragging me down.

I just read a blog entry of another breast cancer sister. She is going through chemotherapy and her body is not handling it well. She's been in and out of the hospital with various infections since she started. Her doctor finally told her that they were going to stop the chemotherapy at 4 rounds, instead of pushing on to 6 because her body wasn't handling the infusions well. So, now although she feels some relief from going through another 2 rounds of chemo, she's now afraid that maybe 4 isn't enough. She's scared and tired.

I know how she feels. I went through 8 rounds of chemo and although my body handled things relatively well -- I still ended up in the hospital a couple of times myself. Its frightening. Your body hurts, you are scared and you don't know if the decisions that you're making are the right ones.

I left a comment on Sheri's blog that... the hardest thing right now is learning to live with the unknown. The best part of being an adult is being in control of your own life. Cancer takes that control from you. You never know if you've tried enough, done enough, to make a difference. You don't know if doing everything your doctors tell you to do is the right thing. Or would it be better to skip the western medicine and go the alternative/natural path? No assurances either way. No one can promise you that "this" path is the right path.

And that's frightening. Because you're already feeling so close to death as it is, that you absolutely do not want to take the wrong step off the short ledge.

The bottomline for me is that I'm scared. I'm scared that after doing all the things I've been told will help, after cutting off body parts, and sitting through hours upon hours of chemo... that in the end, none of that will matter and the end result will be that cancer still had its way.

Fran's death is hitting me so hard because she did all the right things. She fought the cancer hard. She was diligent. And in the end, it didn't stop the cancer from finding her again and hitting her even harder.

How do you keep finding the strength to fight an enemy you can't see coming? Where does that energy come from?

My family reunion is this weekend in Birmingham, Alabama. I had not planned to attend. Lots of reasons, none of them good really... but I just didn't feel up to it. Today, I'm going to see if I can take the time off of work and go down to visit my family. I'd rather see them now, even with this immense sadness in my heart... than to have the next time they see me be at my funeral.

Stepping out of my comfort zone (because I'd rather curl up in my bed and close the curtains and just cry) because I'm hoping it will shake up my mood. Help me find some joy and laughter again.

Please say a prayer for all of us struggling with cancer today. We need it.

today was a really hard day...

I'm hoping that tomorrow will be better. Today was hard. Yesterday was hard too. Pretty much... every moment since I learned about Fran's death has been difficult. Fran is the second breast cancer sister I've known this year to die.

I cried so much yesterday and today... that now I feel sick. I stayed home from work today because I was an emotional wreck and I just wasn't feeling well. Its a bad combination -- aches and pains, along with grief and heartache.

I'm being a whiny baby about this and I know it. But I'm honestly struggling with handling the deaths of other breast cancer patients. Its like for every step forward, every moment of joy... there is a step backwards and moments of agony. Its just not fair.

I'm shedding tears for all of us who have to deal with this. Patients, family, friends, and medical staff. Its so hard. Like fighting a ghost or something. You do what worked before and you hope that it works again. You do what you're told will work best... and you pray that cancer doesn't find you again.

I've never been very good with uncertainty and change. But I've been working on learning to go with the flow for years and I have gotten better. I know that there's still work for me to do.

A few weeks ago, I was chatting with an old friend from college. Her mother passed away years ago from cancer and she was just talking to me about my disease. She mentioned to me that she felt that her mother had given up and that's why she was gone now. But my friend Monica didn't believe that I would give up, and she expected me to live a long time.

I don't know what stage of cancer Monica's mother had, or what her prognosis was... so I don't know what her state of mind was at the time of her passing. But I know that the uncertainty of all of this is really hard to handle. Right now, I don't feel like giving up. I feel that there's a lot of life left for me to experience and enjoy and I want to do that. What makes me pause, and makes me cry and worry... is that I don't have any control over this. I can read everything I get my hands on -- most of it conflicts with other reports every day -- but it might not be enough. I do what my doctors tell me to do -- but there's always a possibility that I'm the exception to the rule.

Its overwhelming sometimes to think about all the possibilities.

I know that this sadness will pass. I hope that its gone by the time I wake up in the morning, actually. I just keep thinking about everything and everyone in my life. Thinking about Fran's death makes me think about my own. I suppose that when that day comes, I won't be sad anymore. But until then, I'm going to keep fighting to stay alive and to live a good life.

Don't mind my tears and sobs. Just a temporary state of mind. Deep down, I'm happy. Pretty soon, I'll be laughing again.

Just not tonight.

The Race for the Cure...

My view of the Mall at the Race For The Cure

 *Update 09/2015: I've done several Race for the Cures since this one and they are always emotional but not as much as that first one. In 2009 when I wrote this post, I was grieving so heavily about losing my breast and my hair and everything that happened. In June 09, I was 10 months into my treatment. So things were still really sensitive for me. Looking back, I realize how unprepared I was for that day. But I am still emotional on Race day. I suppose I always will be. 

Please check out Fight Pink!

Fight Pink is a website dedicated to advocating on behalf of breast cancer patients, survivors and others connected/interested in the disease. Stacy, the founder of the site, is a breast cancer survivor and a diligent voice for all of us who venture on this journey.

Stacy found my blog and asked if she could share my story on her site. Naturally, I agreed. For those who have been following this blog since the beginning... its all old news. But if you're late to the party, you can get a glimpse into the beginning of this journey through breast cancer.

http://www.fightpink.org/

I have agreed to be a contributing writer to the site. So look forward to seeing different things from me concerning african american women and breast cancer. Should tie in nicely with the new blog that I am creating.

Just sharing the good news. Please check out the site... its really awesome.

Returning To Work After My Mastectomy and Radiation Therapy

Returning to work after a mastectomy and radiation therapy is hard

Last week was my first week back at work. I'm working part-time hours until I regain enough stamina and physical strength to handle a full day. I've been anxious and hesitant to return to work. Anxious because I'm a bit bored at home every day and hesitant because I am worried that I won't be as good as before. If you haven't figured out by now, I am constantly worried about something. (laughs) I guess its part of my charming personality.

The week actually was ok. More difficult than I imagined it would be but my colleagues were more generous than I imagined they would be, so it balanced out. When my doctor said that I could return and that I should work part-time for a few weeks or so, I thought he was being overly cautious. I thought that he and I were underestimating my ability and desire to return to normal life. I was so wrong.

Take it from me: You have to go slow, take it easy and follow your doctor's directions

Day one: 

The first day, I lasted about 30 minutes. It took me longer to get to work and to get home than I actually worked. I was tired, but mostly I was overwhelmed. There was so much that I had forgotten, so much that seemed so foreign. It was hard physically and really hard emotionally. I had not warned anyone that I was coming into the office, so they weren't prepared for me either. Everyone was very warm and nice but I felt oddly out of place. Since I had an appointment to see the radiation oncologist that afternoon, I took the opportunity to leave while I still felt that I had enough energy to get through the appointment and back home.

Day two: 

The second day, I lasted a little longer, just about an hour or so. But Wednesday proved to be even more challenging that Tuesday emotionally. I did very little, but it took me a long time to do that. When I realized that I was becoming really tired, I left. The surprise of being so tired while having done so little overtook me as soon as I walked out of my building and I found myself crying on the corner like a lost child.

Crying because I lost so much of myself and I don't know who I am anymore

Interestingly enough, I had the same feeling the day before but I shook off the tears before they came. But I couldn't hold them back on Wednesday and it took a long time for me to get myself together. Sadness, frustration and general anger... is what made me cry. The sadness about all that I've been through, and all that I'm still going through was amazing. And its even more amazing that it just doesn't seem to ever completely go away, no matter how many good days and happy moments I do have. Frustration at the notion that working a few hours is just where I am right now. And anger about the whole deal. I needed a hug badly on Wednesday... but I was too timid to ask the person I wanted it from the most to simply wrap his arms around me and hold me tight. So I went without the hug.

I am hopeful that this week at work will be a little better. I rested a lot this weekend and I hope that it will make a difference in the amount of stamina I have for work. But I know this much, afternoon naps are the best! Everyday last week I crawled right into bed as soon as I walked into the house. And napped for a few hours. On Thursday when I was leaving the office, the intern asked me what I was going to do when I got home. I smiled and said... I'm taking a nap! He told me he was jealous.

Sadly, I was jealous of him for a moment too. Because he didn't need a nap. He didn't need someone to help him to move a box or two like I did as I tried to find some files for him. Luckily it passed quickly. The truth is that I wouldn't trade places with anyone else in the world... even with breast cancer.

I want to be better, so I am going to do everything in my power to be better

This week will be an interesting test of will. I want to be able to work my full 4 hours each day. (laughs) It sounds crazy to even say that, but its true. I have chemotherapy on Wednesday - my herceptin infusion. (I still don't like that word, infusion -- it still makes me think of tea or liquor) I will not work that day. For a brief moment, I thought that I would go to work after my treatment -- I don't even know why I felt that. Actually, I do. I have something to prove, to others and to myself. And when I can't do it, I feel like a complete failure. But I do a little more each time than I did the time before, so my failure rate is going down. That's something to be grateful for.

Compared to how I felt during those dark days last fall of chemotherapy -- I feel like a million bucks. My fingernails have all grown back - and only the tips of a few are discolored. For the most part, they are healthy and clear -- a sign of good health. My skin isn't as dry and papery as it used to be either. The radiated area is still discolored but the radiation oncologist said that it looked fine and was healing well. She wants to see me in 6 months, so I'm taking that as a sign that everything is okay. I have hair on my head (and other places too) again, another sign that I'm healthy. All in all, beyond this fatigue, I do feel good.

Heck, I made breakfast for the family today and served everyone in bed. :) Not a big deal for most but a huge deal for me. Somedays just walking up the stairs myself takes all the wind out of my sails. Today I stood over a stove for about 40 minutes making pancakes, eggs and sausage, and then carried it upstairs for my folks. I was proud of myself. Well, proud of the effort; the actual meal -- eh. Definitely not my best work. I'm very out of practice. (laughs)

Returning to work while I complete my treatment means I have to learn to balance everything

I'm waiting to hear from the geneticist at GW Hospital. Hopefully, I can get the genetic testing done for the breast cancer gene pretty soon. I'd like to schedule my reconstruction surgery within the next month. Even though I won't be having the surgery for another 3 or 4 months, I'd like to get on the calendar now so that I can start preparing mentally for it.

A dream deferred? Maybe...

I spoke with the radiation oncologist about the possibility of having kids after all of this was said and done... and she seemed guarded about it. Since reproduction isn't her area of expertise I think she wanted to keep my expectations low but she did tell me (yet again) not to get pregnant while I'm still in treatment. It always makes me smirk when someone asks me if I could be pregnant (the nurses ask me every time I go for chemo) or when one of the doctors tell me not to get pregnant. Beyond the fact that I haven't been intimate in forever... there is the issue that they shut down my ovaries last fall. Sorta hard to get pregnant when your ovaries aren't functioning.

So I smirk. And then respond that I'm taking all precautions not to get pregnant. (laughs)

My hot flashes tell me that my estrogen production is low. My lack of a menstrual cycle tells me that my ovaries are not releasing any eggs. So... yeah. (gas face) Its gonna take a miracle and probably thousands of dollars that I don't have -- in order for me to give birth anytime soon. (shrug) Oh well. Just another obstacle on the path. I'll get beyond it when its time to do so.

I have faith. I guess its time for me to try to sleep. I may only have to work a few hours but I need to be there on time. Have a happy week. I plan to.

Recap: What I have learned so far

Since my diagnosis, I have been trying my best to get "back" to myself and my life before my diagnosis. Chemotherapy changed me. My mastectomy changed me again. And getting through radiation therapy has been extremely difficult. I've been in and out of the hospital so much, that all I dream about is the boring normalcy of going back to work, not being on disability insurance and getting back to life hanging with my friends and just enjoying my life. However, the reality is that being diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer is no tiny thing. And going through 4 months of chemotherapy, losing an entire breast and then experiencing almost 2 months of daily radiation means that I am not the girl I used to be. I may never be her again. And somehow, I have to adapt to that, learn to follow my medical team's directions completely and put the rest in God's hands. There are no clear answers right now. I guess clarity will come later when I review all that I've been through. But for now, instead of feeling like a failure because I could only work for an hour or two... I have to see it as a win that I could leave my home on my own, navigate public transportation for an hour, arrive downtown in one piece and then give my best to my office for as long as my body can handle it... and then reverse the trip. Alone. For someone who has spent the majority of the past 9 months practically bedridden, that's a major accomplishment. Not a failure. Getting stronger will come. Giving myself some grace is what's needed.

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