Just a quick update to let everyone know that we are okay after the big storm that hit Seattle last week. Our only damage was that our computer room got some water (seeping from the ground? we're still not sure how it entered the house) and ruined the carpet; we never lost power. We consider ourselves extremely fortunate, as we know many people who are still without power, all these days later. It's been at freezing level at night, and so this is particularly difficult for those who don't have heat and electricity. We have tried our best to help people out; we have friends staying with us as their house still doesn't have power and because they had the additional misfortune of having four feet (yes you read that correctly) of water in their newly remodeled basement. They are taking it well and I feel that I can learn a lot from their optimism and positive attitudes. It's especially hard during the busy Christmas season to have such troubles, and I am reminded how fortunate we are to have come out so unscathed from such a nasty storm.
My parents and my aunt & uncle are still without power; my grandma just got her power back yesterday. My parents' business is still without power and we are all hoping that it goes back online soon....pools etc without power can cause big problems and I hope that soon it will be back to normal so that my extended family can breathe a sigh of relief. My parents are living in their motorcoach - thank goodness for that, because they have a generator and so they're snug and warm.
I need to add here that I consider it a major gift that we are able to help our friends in their time of need. For over a year, all I did was take and take and take the support that was offered, and I am eternally grateful to all those who gave generously of their time and gifts to keep our family afloat. Now, as I sit here in good health, it is a gift and a treat to be able to help others. I am so grateful to have a house with a guest room, filled with toys for the girls to play with; for food in the cupboard; for warm bed linens; for friends and family. I am grateful for my strong body, so that I can easily provide a little babysitting or make a meal for others. I am so grateful to be in a position to GIVE instead of just taking, and I hope that our friends understand that really, they are giving ME a gift by accepting our help.
A short note here on the nature of floods: My heart goes out once again to the Katrina victims. Here in Seattle, many were impacted by the storm (though not nearly as badly as those in Katrina, I realize) but the major difference is that not EVERYONE was impacted, and so neighbors can help neighbors. Many families have bonded to help our friends...the men shoveled out mud together, some families took loads of muddied laundry and bed linens to be cleaned, others sorted through photographs and albums to save them, etc. In Katrina, everyone needed help, so many couldn't help each other, each needing their own help. In Seattle, many families have the resources to help each other. I can only imagine the devastation of Katrina, now that I've had this tiny taste of it here, and my heart goes out to those who still suffer from the aftereffects.
This is my first time on the computer since Thursday; since our computer room was soggy we had to remove everything, of course, and so we've just gotten back online. If I owe you an email, please forgive me!
Love,
Kristina
Monday, December 18, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
spoke to Dr. Rinn
Well, today Dr. Rinn called me back (she'd been out of the office) and after hearing my symptoms she said she was not at all concerned. Femara causes joint pain (no surprise to hear that) and as she put it, "makes you creakier and more susceptable to pains." She said that the pain I had the other night was likely a muscle spasm, and that Femara might have influenced that, too.
She also said that if I needed a bone scan for peace of mind, she'd order it for me. I am now waiting for the scheduling call - I want that peace of mind. Ryan's the love of my life, but I want NED* to stay my boyfriend!
This is probably nothing. I just want to be sure.
And this, my friends, is what breast cancer is like. Lots of uncertainty. Lots of tests. Lots of needles. Lots of radioactive dye. Lots of 3 hour appointments.
I read recently in an abstract from the recent San Antonio conference for breast cancer website that there is a study that has determined that ER+ women (that's me) are most likely to recur between years 2-3 after diagnosis. This knowledge weighs heavily on me; June is my two year diagnosis anniversary. The good news is that after 10 years my odds of a recurrance are no greater than the general population, according to this study. Just waiting until 2015!
Love,
Kristina
*NED = No Evidence of Disease
PS I am scheduled for Thursday the 21st; I should have results on Friday, just before Christmas.
She also said that if I needed a bone scan for peace of mind, she'd order it for me. I am now waiting for the scheduling call - I want that peace of mind. Ryan's the love of my life, but I want NED* to stay my boyfriend!
This is probably nothing. I just want to be sure.
And this, my friends, is what breast cancer is like. Lots of uncertainty. Lots of tests. Lots of needles. Lots of radioactive dye. Lots of 3 hour appointments.
I read recently in an abstract from the recent San Antonio conference for breast cancer website that there is a study that has determined that ER+ women (that's me) are most likely to recur between years 2-3 after diagnosis. This knowledge weighs heavily on me; June is my two year diagnosis anniversary. The good news is that after 10 years my odds of a recurrance are no greater than the general population, according to this study. Just waiting until 2015!
Love,
Kristina
*NED = No Evidence of Disease
PS I am scheduled for Thursday the 21st; I should have results on Friday, just before Christmas.
Monday, December 11, 2006
alternate gift ideas
I got this in email today and thought I'd pass it along. My favorite breast cancer charity is the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation (they are the recipients of the Breast Cancer 3-Day and Race for the Cure funds) at www.komen.org , but breastcancer.org is very informative and they do good work too.
-----------------------
This holiday season, give the gift of medical knowledge and personal confidence to women and their loved ones around the world. Help them overcome their fears and get the best breast cancer treatment possible. Your donation will help breastcancer.org continue to provide our programs at no cost to over 8 million visitors next year.
Perhaps you would like to make a gift in someone else's name this holiday season. Honor your family members, friends and co-workers with a heart-felt gift that is sure to be appreciated. This type of holiday gift is life-affirming, positive, and comes in any price denomination you like beginning at $5.
Consider the beauty of a gift that never goes to waste. For example:
-- Rather than giving bubble bath, a $10 gift to breastcancer.org can provide 22 young women with the tools to assess their own personal risk of breast cancer and make lifestyle choices that reduce those risks.
-- Instead of buying an expensive pair of jeans, consider making a $50 gift to provide 110 newly diagnosed women with the gift of knowledge so that they can fully research and understand their diagnosis, pathology report, and treatment options.
-- In place of a $100 department store gift card, a $100 gift helps breastcancer.org distribute 75 booklets to breast cancer patients and their loved ones who are seeking answers to critical questions about their pathology report, treatment options and fears about treatment.
Please know that every $10 that you contribute allows breastcancer.org to support and educate the lives of another 22 of the millions of individuals living today who will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetime. Thank you for your support!
To give a gift, please click here:
http://www.breastcancer.org/dh.html
Our very best holiday wishes to you and yours.
Most sincerely,
Marisa C. Weiss,
President and Founder, breastcancer.org
Hope Wohl,
CEO, breastcancer.org
-----------------------
This holiday season, give the gift of medical knowledge and personal confidence to women and their loved ones around the world. Help them overcome their fears and get the best breast cancer treatment possible. Your donation will help breastcancer.org continue to provide our programs at no cost to over 8 million visitors next year.
Perhaps you would like to make a gift in someone else's name this holiday season. Honor your family members, friends and co-workers with a heart-felt gift that is sure to be appreciated. This type of holiday gift is life-affirming, positive, and comes in any price denomination you like beginning at $5.
Consider the beauty of a gift that never goes to waste. For example:
-- Rather than giving bubble bath, a $10 gift to breastcancer.org can provide 22 young women with the tools to assess their own personal risk of breast cancer and make lifestyle choices that reduce those risks.
-- Instead of buying an expensive pair of jeans, consider making a $50 gift to provide 110 newly diagnosed women with the gift of knowledge so that they can fully research and understand their diagnosis, pathology report, and treatment options.
-- In place of a $100 department store gift card, a $100 gift helps breastcancer.org distribute 75 booklets to breast cancer patients and their loved ones who are seeking answers to critical questions about their pathology report, treatment options and fears about treatment.
Please know that every $10 that you contribute allows breastcancer.org to support and educate the lives of another 22 of the millions of individuals living today who will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetime. Thank you for your support!
To give a gift, please click here:
http://www.breastcancer.org/dh.html
Our very best holiday wishes to you and yours.
Most sincerely,
Marisa C. Weiss,
President and Founder, breastcancer.org
Hope Wohl,
CEO, breastcancer.org
Roller coaster ride
I hesitated to post this here, but since I'm aiming at honesty I've decided to post it. I originally wrote this for a post on YSC to get consolation from my breast cancer support group.
Every woman I've met (mostly online) has freaked out about mets at one time or another. I guess it's my turn to freak out...I'm still on the roller coaster ride.
----------------
Okay, it's my turn.
So far I have done a very good job of not freaking out over things. Up until now, I have not spent time dwelling on the idea of mets. Until now, I have not wondered if each little ache or pain was mets.
Sigh. I knew this would come but that doesn't make me any more prepared for it!
So it's my turn to freak out. I have had some pain in my lower back/hip area for a few months. I had chalked it up to being active and taking up running and having lots of surgeries in my upper chest/lat flap areas, so I had decided not to stress. I brought it up to my oncologist, casually, and she said, "No wonder you have a bit of pain every now and then - look at how hard you push yourself!"
But then last night I decided to have a bubble bath. I was just about to submerge myself under water, and I raised my hand to smooth my hair from my face, and suddenly I felt searing pain. I've had little tastes of that before and thought they were muscle spasms or something, but this was mind-numbnig. I waited for it to pass. I held still for 15 minutes, hoping that it would go away. Finally, I called to my husband (who was downstairs) to come up, and by the time he heard me I was sitting there crying. I couldn't move at all without searing pain in that area - sort of right above my butt, low back, on the right side. It took us 15 minutes to figure out how to get me out of the tub - I was terrified that if he lifted me the pain would be tooooo awful.
It took about 15 more minutes to get me out of the tub, dried off, and into the bedroom. Ryan helped me get in PJs, and got me some Flexoril and Vicodan (leftovers from my last surgery) and I was finally able to get into bed, where I sat without moving for another hour before the pain went away enough for me to sleep.
This morning the pain isn't unmanageable, but it's still there, and more than it had been in the past couple of months.
Now I can't make the thought of bone mets go away. I called the onc, who is out of the office today, but they'll call me back within the day. I've asked for a bone scan.
Can anybody talk me off the ceiling? Can you either assure me that this is not bone mets and a lucky pinched nerve or something, or convince me that if it's bone mets I will still be fine and live to be 100? Please?
-------------
One of the girls on the YSC site recently had something like this, but in her neck. It turns out that she "just" has a broken neck. Everyone has been cheering her and saying "I'm so glad it's nothing" and "Thank God it's a broken neck and nothing worse" and the like. She needs surgery, but the sentiment is understood: as long as it's not permanent and won't kill you, WHO CARES!
The flip side is that I know several online people who were recently diagnosed with mets (metastases: the breast cancer moved into other organs or bones)...one day stage II, the next, stage IV.
Ugh.
Every woman I've met (mostly online) has freaked out about mets at one time or another. I guess it's my turn to freak out...I'm still on the roller coaster ride.
----------------
Okay, it's my turn.
So far I have done a very good job of not freaking out over things. Up until now, I have not spent time dwelling on the idea of mets. Until now, I have not wondered if each little ache or pain was mets.
Sigh. I knew this would come but that doesn't make me any more prepared for it!
So it's my turn to freak out. I have had some pain in my lower back/hip area for a few months. I had chalked it up to being active and taking up running and having lots of surgeries in my upper chest/lat flap areas, so I had decided not to stress. I brought it up to my oncologist, casually, and she said, "No wonder you have a bit of pain every now and then - look at how hard you push yourself!"
But then last night I decided to have a bubble bath. I was just about to submerge myself under water, and I raised my hand to smooth my hair from my face, and suddenly I felt searing pain. I've had little tastes of that before and thought they were muscle spasms or something, but this was mind-numbnig. I waited for it to pass. I held still for 15 minutes, hoping that it would go away. Finally, I called to my husband (who was downstairs) to come up, and by the time he heard me I was sitting there crying. I couldn't move at all without searing pain in that area - sort of right above my butt, low back, on the right side. It took us 15 minutes to figure out how to get me out of the tub - I was terrified that if he lifted me the pain would be tooooo awful.
It took about 15 more minutes to get me out of the tub, dried off, and into the bedroom. Ryan helped me get in PJs, and got me some Flexoril and Vicodan (leftovers from my last surgery) and I was finally able to get into bed, where I sat without moving for another hour before the pain went away enough for me to sleep.
This morning the pain isn't unmanageable, but it's still there, and more than it had been in the past couple of months.
Now I can't make the thought of bone mets go away. I called the onc, who is out of the office today, but they'll call me back within the day. I've asked for a bone scan.
Can anybody talk me off the ceiling? Can you either assure me that this is not bone mets and a lucky pinched nerve or something, or convince me that if it's bone mets I will still be fine and live to be 100? Please?
-------------
One of the girls on the YSC site recently had something like this, but in her neck. It turns out that she "just" has a broken neck. Everyone has been cheering her and saying "I'm so glad it's nothing" and "Thank God it's a broken neck and nothing worse" and the like. She needs surgery, but the sentiment is understood: as long as it's not permanent and won't kill you, WHO CARES!
The flip side is that I know several online people who were recently diagnosed with mets (metastases: the breast cancer moved into other organs or bones)...one day stage II, the next, stage IV.
Ugh.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Christmas Cocktail Party
We've come a long way, baby, and there is so much to celebrate!
And here I am a year ago (December 14, 2005): my last chemo treatment. Bloated face, no hair, and the fatigue and illness shows in the photos. I pray that I never feel that way ever again!
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Finding meaning
Recently someone on my young breast cancer survivor's support group website posted a question about making changes after treatment was over, and trying to find meaning in life after breast cancer. This is something I think about constantly - truly constantly. I thought I'd share my response here, though it's not articulated terribly well, because these thoughts are what are lurking in my brain, trying to make themselves understood, much of the time.
Kristina
-----------
This is something I think about all the time. ALL the time. I completely understand where you are coming from, though I do not quite have my mind wrapped around the answers yet.
Here is what I think I understand so far:
We are all here on this planet for a short amount of time. Having cancer doesn't necessarily change our timeframe, it just makes us aware of how mortal we are, and reminds us that old age is not a guarantee. It is this awareness that makes us different from others: other people, those who have never experienced a life threatening health crisis, do not yet understand that life is short. We understand it in ways that we never dreamed of, and this changes us.
The change is frightening; loss of innocence is frightening. However, for this price (it is NOT a gift, as it has come at a heavy price) we gain some keys to insights not previously offered to us. I think that the insights are different person to person, but I can share mine with you.
1. We only get one body, and we must take care of that body or suffer the consequences. Before my diagnosis, I was 20 pounds overweight and not exercising regularly, full of the regular excuses (no time, daughter wouldn't go to a gym daycare without crying, too tired, etc). Now, I watch my health - including my diet and fitness - because I know what illness feels like, and I don't wish to repeat my experiences of being a critically ill patient. Diabetes, heart disease, osteoarthritis, etc. are all conditions influenced by lifestyle, and if I can avoid those diseases I will. And, of course, the 50% reduced rate of recurrance for those with a healthy BMI who exercise regularly but not obsessively. I always knew that it was good for me to take care of my body...but now I do. No excuses, I jsut do it.
2. I am a likeable person just the way I am - I do not need to put on a false front to please other people. I have always worried about what people thought of me; I think everyone does to some degree and perhaps I did more than some. Well, with cancer, I was stripped of pretense: my body was completely distorted (no breast, bald, 20 extra pounds from dx, etc.), I was hardly able to think a coherent thought (couldn't read The New Yorker because I couldn't concentrate...my favorite magazine!), I couldn't offer to help a friend because I was too tired...all of the usual. And people still liked me. And they told me that I was inspirational, and they drew close to me. This startled me more than I can say; at first, I didn't understand it at all. Now, however, I see more in myself of what they saw. I am generous with my friends, I am enthusiastic and optimistic, I love to laugh, I am loyal to my friends, and I am kind. I don't question these things any more, and therefore I allow my real self to show through all the time. I talk a lot, I'm unusually outgoing and social, I love to have people over all the time and cook for them...and I love it. I don't shut up to please people by being quiet; I speak my opinions loudly, though hopefully not rudely...and whaddayaknow, people like it and listen to me!
3. I am stronger than I ever dreamed possible. This strength means that I do not feel fear of the unknown in ways I have felt fear before. I am not afraid of saying the wrong thing; I can handle the consequences of speaking my mind. I am not afraid to run a marathon, because the pain of training is nothing compared to the pain of treatment. I can help others in pain, because I know what pain feels like, emotionally and physically, and I'm not afraid to witness it. I am stronger than most people, and as such I have a responsibility to myself and others to use that strength.
4. I am worth it. I am worth pretty clothes, time to read good books, date nights with my husband, a bottle of wine shared with girlfriends, walks on the beach, a good haircut....I am worth it. I do not mean that I now need to spend beyond my means to have nice things, just that I am worth it and I don't need to justify my existance to anyone. I know my own value, and it is high.
5. I am meant to do something meaningful on this planet. I have decided that my task is to be a part of finding the cure for breast cancer. I am working with the Susan G. Komen Foundation to fundraise, and I will not stop until we have found a cure. I find great meaning in this work!
6. My will to live is stronger than I ever imagined possible. There is no pain that I would not endure to stay alive to watch my daughter grow, to laugh with her, to hold her hand as she becomes a woman. I am not afraid of knives, needles, poison.
These thoughts are still disconnected; I think about them constantly, and try to figure out the pieces. I know I must run a marathon, work with the SGK to find a cure, speak out against the disease, fight the hard work that it takes to make my marriage the best that it can be, and spend more time playing with my daughter and holding my husband's hand and laughing with friends and building sandcastles on the beach and hiking and cooking for friends than I spend commuting, doing laundry, worrying about what others think of me, or playing Keep Up with the Jones'.
I am NOT the person I was before diagnosis. Cancer has changed me, for good and for bad. Like you, I refuse to let the lessons slip away. I am changing my life's habits, and hopefully modeling them to my daughter so that she can grow up with these ideas of herself.
I am a PollyAnna and proud of it. I have my moments of sheer terror and anger and confusion, but when it comes down to it I am an optimist, and I am determined to take the good out of this situation and use every last drop of it.
And with all of those ramblings, I'll close with this last one: I am committed to squeezing every last drop of living out of every day. I am always up for an adventure, and I seek out beauty in my life, reveling in it where I find it (whether it's the smile of a friend, or the power of a rainstorm, or a delicious piece of chocolate cake, or a pretty piece of jewelry, or the kindness of a stranger, or a hike in the forest, or....well, you get the idea!) and never forgetting for one minute how lucky I am to have these moments.
Kristina
-----------
This is something I think about all the time. ALL the time. I completely understand where you are coming from, though I do not quite have my mind wrapped around the answers yet.
Here is what I think I understand so far:
We are all here on this planet for a short amount of time. Having cancer doesn't necessarily change our timeframe, it just makes us aware of how mortal we are, and reminds us that old age is not a guarantee. It is this awareness that makes us different from others: other people, those who have never experienced a life threatening health crisis, do not yet understand that life is short. We understand it in ways that we never dreamed of, and this changes us.
The change is frightening; loss of innocence is frightening. However, for this price (it is NOT a gift, as it has come at a heavy price) we gain some keys to insights not previously offered to us. I think that the insights are different person to person, but I can share mine with you.
1. We only get one body, and we must take care of that body or suffer the consequences. Before my diagnosis, I was 20 pounds overweight and not exercising regularly, full of the regular excuses (no time, daughter wouldn't go to a gym daycare without crying, too tired, etc). Now, I watch my health - including my diet and fitness - because I know what illness feels like, and I don't wish to repeat my experiences of being a critically ill patient. Diabetes, heart disease, osteoarthritis, etc. are all conditions influenced by lifestyle, and if I can avoid those diseases I will. And, of course, the 50% reduced rate of recurrance for those with a healthy BMI who exercise regularly but not obsessively. I always knew that it was good for me to take care of my body...but now I do. No excuses, I jsut do it.
2. I am a likeable person just the way I am - I do not need to put on a false front to please other people. I have always worried about what people thought of me; I think everyone does to some degree and perhaps I did more than some. Well, with cancer, I was stripped of pretense: my body was completely distorted (no breast, bald, 20 extra pounds from dx, etc.), I was hardly able to think a coherent thought (couldn't read The New Yorker because I couldn't concentrate...my favorite magazine!), I couldn't offer to help a friend because I was too tired...all of the usual. And people still liked me. And they told me that I was inspirational, and they drew close to me. This startled me more than I can say; at first, I didn't understand it at all. Now, however, I see more in myself of what they saw. I am generous with my friends, I am enthusiastic and optimistic, I love to laugh, I am loyal to my friends, and I am kind. I don't question these things any more, and therefore I allow my real self to show through all the time. I talk a lot, I'm unusually outgoing and social, I love to have people over all the time and cook for them...and I love it. I don't shut up to please people by being quiet; I speak my opinions loudly, though hopefully not rudely...and whaddayaknow, people like it and listen to me!
3. I am stronger than I ever dreamed possible. This strength means that I do not feel fear of the unknown in ways I have felt fear before. I am not afraid of saying the wrong thing; I can handle the consequences of speaking my mind. I am not afraid to run a marathon, because the pain of training is nothing compared to the pain of treatment. I can help others in pain, because I know what pain feels like, emotionally and physically, and I'm not afraid to witness it. I am stronger than most people, and as such I have a responsibility to myself and others to use that strength.
4. I am worth it. I am worth pretty clothes, time to read good books, date nights with my husband, a bottle of wine shared with girlfriends, walks on the beach, a good haircut....I am worth it. I do not mean that I now need to spend beyond my means to have nice things, just that I am worth it and I don't need to justify my existance to anyone. I know my own value, and it is high.
5. I am meant to do something meaningful on this planet. I have decided that my task is to be a part of finding the cure for breast cancer. I am working with the Susan G. Komen Foundation to fundraise, and I will not stop until we have found a cure. I find great meaning in this work!
6. My will to live is stronger than I ever imagined possible. There is no pain that I would not endure to stay alive to watch my daughter grow, to laugh with her, to hold her hand as she becomes a woman. I am not afraid of knives, needles, poison.
These thoughts are still disconnected; I think about them constantly, and try to figure out the pieces. I know I must run a marathon, work with the SGK to find a cure, speak out against the disease, fight the hard work that it takes to make my marriage the best that it can be, and spend more time playing with my daughter and holding my husband's hand and laughing with friends and building sandcastles on the beach and hiking and cooking for friends than I spend commuting, doing laundry, worrying about what others think of me, or playing Keep Up with the Jones'.
I am NOT the person I was before diagnosis. Cancer has changed me, for good and for bad. Like you, I refuse to let the lessons slip away. I am changing my life's habits, and hopefully modeling them to my daughter so that she can grow up with these ideas of herself.
I am a PollyAnna and proud of it. I have my moments of sheer terror and anger and confusion, but when it comes down to it I am an optimist, and I am determined to take the good out of this situation and use every last drop of it.
And with all of those ramblings, I'll close with this last one: I am committed to squeezing every last drop of living out of every day. I am always up for an adventure, and I seek out beauty in my life, reveling in it where I find it (whether it's the smile of a friend, or the power of a rainstorm, or a delicious piece of chocolate cake, or a pretty piece of jewelry, or the kindness of a stranger, or a hike in the forest, or....well, you get the idea!) and never forgetting for one minute how lucky I am to have these moments.
Monday, December 04, 2006
It's everywhere
There are SMALL advantages to having breast cancer; they don't make it "worth it" and they're not gifts (I've paid heavily, thank you very much!) but I take what I can get. One is that when I get telephone solicitors seeking donations, my truthful story that "I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year and all of our charitable funds are going towards that cause," really gets them off my back.
Today, just a minute ago, the call was a bit different. I politely told the lady from the Seattle Aquarium my line, and she said, "I'm so sorry. My mom died of breast cancer 38 years ago, and I know how that is." The woman then asked me questions, commiserated with me, and told me that she was 25 when her mom passed away. It was obvious that she still misses her mother, and that she needed to talk about it for a minute. She mentioned how barbaric the treatments were; I agreed with her. I know that the treatments were worse then, and the prognosis was worse...but I couldn't help but think of being slashed (mastectomies, node dissection, hysterectomy/oopharectomy, port), burned (radiation...oh that was rough!), and poisoned (chemo; I will never forget my allergic reaction, in addition to the "normal" chemo side effects. Slashed, burned, and poisoned...I am convinced there must be a better way!
These conversations only strengthen my resolve to find a cure. Fast. Of course, looking at some stats, it will be a miracle if I live to see Tessa at 25; I want much much much much much more than that.
Fighting with every minute!
Kristina
Today, just a minute ago, the call was a bit different. I politely told the lady from the Seattle Aquarium my line, and she said, "I'm so sorry. My mom died of breast cancer 38 years ago, and I know how that is." The woman then asked me questions, commiserated with me, and told me that she was 25 when her mom passed away. It was obvious that she still misses her mother, and that she needed to talk about it for a minute. She mentioned how barbaric the treatments were; I agreed with her. I know that the treatments were worse then, and the prognosis was worse...but I couldn't help but think of being slashed (mastectomies, node dissection, hysterectomy/oopharectomy, port), burned (radiation...oh that was rough!), and poisoned (chemo; I will never forget my allergic reaction, in addition to the "normal" chemo side effects. Slashed, burned, and poisoned...I am convinced there must be a better way!
These conversations only strengthen my resolve to find a cure. Fast. Of course, looking at some stats, it will be a miracle if I live to see Tessa at 25; I want much much much much much more than that.
Fighting with every minute!
Kristina
Tessa and Santa
Tessa loves to visit Santa! Here's a memory shot of Tessa with Santa when she was a baby, alongside Nina and Lexi (I love that shot!); and here are this year's Santa pics: Santa and Tessa, and then Tessa with Lexi & Nina again. This year all three girls had fun...but it really brought back the memories to see them together with Santa again. Tessa was doing only the cheesiest of smiles, and then this tongue picture....so much for showing off her pretty face! The tongue picture does capture some of who she is right now, though...silly and playful.
I am healing well. As a matter of fact, I did a dinner party for 10 yesterday (my dad's birthday) and recovered just fine. Hurrah! And now I'm off to run 100 errands...!
Love,
Kristina
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Then & Now
I thought it was time for a then and now post. There I am, the day before my mastectomy with Carolyn & Susan; then the bald pictures....which coincide with the fat pictures; then, a body shot after losing a lot of weight; and then the most recent body shot (lost even more weight) at Halloween. (These may be mixed up in order, so you'll have to use your imaginations!) Things have changed, and this Thanksgiving I have a lot to be grateful for. (I should get a "hair shot" where I'm not wearing a long sparkly wig...!)
Love,
Kristina
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Home again and doing well
I got home from the hospital on Tuesday night, earlier than anticipated, but I've been pretty out of it until today so haven't been on to update. I'm still loopy from Vicodan and need my afternoon nap, but I did have enough energy for a short post.
My new breast is tiny and bruised, but she shows potential. And the implant exchange on the other side went well, with almost NO pain post-surgery, and looks and feels almost exactly like a real breast (instead of the rock that it felt like with the expander in place).
Today I got the drains removed - hurrah. Those things are necessary, of course, but felt evil. This time, getting them pulled hurt...but it's done and that's a good thing.
I have felt surrounded by friends and family. My mom is staying with us until tomorrow to help care for us and I'm truly grateful.
I'm on Vicodan for pain and today I've been up for the first time, and actually left the house to go to the coffee shop (LOVE C&P!) and then to the plastic surgeon's office to have the drain removed...so I'm a bit wiped out now, and ready for a nap. But I love that with each passing hour I feel a bit better, and that I will continue to get better and better with no major setbacks looming on the horizon. HURRAH!
I'm loopy from the meds but let's see if I can get this thought down:
When I was first diagnosed, and had my mastectomy, I told Tessa "It's okay. One day the doctors will build me a new breast," and that thought carried me through some dark and dismal days. "One day" seemed like it would never come, but I held the thought. Well, that day finally did come, and I'm so glad of it. Seventeen months without a breast felt like ENOUGH, and I feel, as this new body part grows to resemble what it is replacing, that maybe I can put some of this behind me and move on to my real life...the one post-treatment. Sure, I'll be taking Femara, getting scans regularly, going for Herceptin infusions, talking to my oncologist etc....but the really really hard stuff is behind me and that is worth celebrating. "One day" has finally arrived!
Love,
Kristina
My new breast is tiny and bruised, but she shows potential. And the implant exchange on the other side went well, with almost NO pain post-surgery, and looks and feels almost exactly like a real breast (instead of the rock that it felt like with the expander in place).
Today I got the drains removed - hurrah. Those things are necessary, of course, but felt evil. This time, getting them pulled hurt...but it's done and that's a good thing.
I have felt surrounded by friends and family. My mom is staying with us until tomorrow to help care for us and I'm truly grateful.
I'm on Vicodan for pain and today I've been up for the first time, and actually left the house to go to the coffee shop (LOVE C&P!) and then to the plastic surgeon's office to have the drain removed...so I'm a bit wiped out now, and ready for a nap. But I love that with each passing hour I feel a bit better, and that I will continue to get better and better with no major setbacks looming on the horizon. HURRAH!
I'm loopy from the meds but let's see if I can get this thought down:
When I was first diagnosed, and had my mastectomy, I told Tessa "It's okay. One day the doctors will build me a new breast," and that thought carried me through some dark and dismal days. "One day" seemed like it would never come, but I held the thought. Well, that day finally did come, and I'm so glad of it. Seventeen months without a breast felt like ENOUGH, and I feel, as this new body part grows to resemble what it is replacing, that maybe I can put some of this behind me and move on to my real life...the one post-treatment. Sure, I'll be taking Femara, getting scans regularly, going for Herceptin infusions, talking to my oncologist etc....but the really really hard stuff is behind me and that is worth celebrating. "One day" has finally arrived!
Love,
Kristina
Friday, November 10, 2006
Surgery Update- Success!
Hi All
This is a short note from Ryan (aka the hubby) that Kristina's reconstruction surgery went very well today. Both Dr Miles and Kristina are very happy with the result. Kristina, and her TWO breasts, will be recovering at Swedish (main hosptial corner of Broadway and Madison) for the next few days and is currently in Room 812 SW. Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers and well wishes. Thank you Grammy and Grampa for taking Tessa and Shep on a jaunt in the Motor coach and thank you Marisa for coming to hang out at the hosptial with the spouse for a few hours while he awaited the results. The next post will probably come from Kristina in the next few days
This is a short note from Ryan (aka the hubby) that Kristina's reconstruction surgery went very well today. Both Dr Miles and Kristina are very happy with the result. Kristina, and her TWO breasts, will be recovering at Swedish (main hosptial corner of Broadway and Madison) for the next few days and is currently in Room 812 SW. Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers and well wishes. Thank you Grammy and Grampa for taking Tessa and Shep on a jaunt in the Motor coach and thank you Marisa for coming to hang out at the hosptial with the spouse for a few hours while he awaited the results. The next post will probably come from Kristina in the next few days
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Stomach flu update
Tessa napped for two hours (unheard of!) and she's up and feeling MUCH better. Hurrah! We've cancelled all social plans but we're going to run a couple of errands to prepare for the busy week(s) ahead....
Please, just no more barf, that's all I ask.....!
Please, just no more barf, that's all I ask.....!
Tessa has the stomach flu
In 24 hours I am supposed to leave for the hospital to have surgery, and my baby has the stomach flu. WAHHHHHH! She woke up and said, "My tummy hurts" which she never, ever does (some kids talk about sore this and sore that, but Tessa doesn't ever mention things like that, so when she does I really stand up and take notice) and she's thrown up a couple of times this morning, despite the fact that she didn't eat a bite of breakfast. We are laying low and I'm doing my best to take care of her; we've read stories, and we've had a bubble bath together, and lots of snuggling in the rocking chair has occurred. However, right now she's under the covers, blanket and bear and two mermaid dolls in hand, looking pale and saying "Mommy I just want to rest."
Wahhhh. My poor, sweet girl does not need this now any more than I do! She's a bit anxious about my surgery, too, I think, and about being apart from me for a long time (5 nights in the hospital for me, and then I won't be able to care for her for a while after that), and I had set aside this day as a "fun" day to play together and just enjoy each other. We were going to meet the Hisatomi's to play together, and then meet the Landahl family at the children's museum in Bellevue to play and have dinner at Red Robin, and needless to say, that's off the calendar.
I can't wait until the Christmas holidays. By then, this will be a memory, and I'll be living my regularly scheduled life!!!
Wahhhh. My poor, sweet girl does not need this now any more than I do! She's a bit anxious about my surgery, too, I think, and about being apart from me for a long time (5 nights in the hospital for me, and then I won't be able to care for her for a while after that), and I had set aside this day as a "fun" day to play together and just enjoy each other. We were going to meet the Hisatomi's to play together, and then meet the Landahl family at the children's museum in Bellevue to play and have dinner at Red Robin, and needless to say, that's off the calendar.
I can't wait until the Christmas holidays. By then, this will be a memory, and I'll be living my regularly scheduled life!!!
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Less than 48 hours 'til a boob job
I have known since the day I was diagnosed that I would do reconstruction. I have not wavered, not one little bit, in that decision, and I am not wavering now.
However...I was diagnosed nearly a year and a half ago, and on Friday I'm going to do reconstruction on the treated side. That's a year and a half of cancer treatment, and I'm so, so, so tired of it all. I took a break from anything major from June (when I was mostly healed from my lat flap) until now, only doing Herceptin & Femara for treatment (and the usual bloodwork, onc visits, etc.). On Friday, I will be back in the hospital, and I will feel horrible, and I can't believe that I'm about to enter that land again!
It's worth it. I know that. But it's very hard to say, "I know I feel good now but I'll feel pretty lousy soon," and to do it voluntarily.
I want two breasts. I DESERVE two breasts. We all do! I guess I just want a pep talk of some sort...anyone???
However...I was diagnosed nearly a year and a half ago, and on Friday I'm going to do reconstruction on the treated side. That's a year and a half of cancer treatment, and I'm so, so, so tired of it all. I took a break from anything major from June (when I was mostly healed from my lat flap) until now, only doing Herceptin & Femara for treatment (and the usual bloodwork, onc visits, etc.). On Friday, I will be back in the hospital, and I will feel horrible, and I can't believe that I'm about to enter that land again!
It's worth it. I know that. But it's very hard to say, "I know I feel good now but I'll feel pretty lousy soon," and to do it voluntarily.
I want two breasts. I DESERVE two breasts. We all do! I guess I just want a pep talk of some sort...anyone???
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Volunteer Job!
I have been anxiously awaiting a call from the local Komen office to discuss my participation in the Race for the Cure Committee this year, and it just came in. I'll be working on website content (using my writing and marketing knowledge) as my primary task, and I'll also be on their list of who to call when they need help. I'm ready to get my hands dirty....I am fighting breast cancer on as many fronts as possible!
The Race for the Cure and the Breast Cancer 3-Day are each incredibly worthy events. The Race's funds go primarily to the local (Puget Sound) affilliate, and those funds are used to support underserved and underinsured women with awareness, mammograms, and treatments. I almost took it for granted during my treatment, but I would have had a whole different set of problems if I couldn't afford tests and treatments. Every woman deserves a mammogram, regardless of income, and The Race tries to see that every woman has that kind of access, and that no woman is denied treatment due to lack of funds. I am giving my time to this important cause, with the belief that every woman needs the kind of care that I received during my diagnosis and treatment, and that money should not be an obstacle in receiving such care.
The 3-Day's funds go primarily to research to find the cure. The Komen Foundation gets most of their research money through the 3-Day, and that is why I am on a team again for 2007 to raise even more money for the 3-Day than we did last year. My only hope of sleeping well at night when Tessa is a woman is the hope that we will cure breast cancer in the next twenty years, and research is the only way to do that. I am passionate about fundraising for the 3-Day, and that is why I will be soliciting money from all of my friends and family when it's time for that event next year.
Two events for the same organization, with different goals, and I'm proud to be a part of each of them. I am ready to get my hands dirty (as they say) and dive into the hard work that is ahead. It is something I will do with passion and drive, becaues I believe so strongly in the cause. I will continue to support organizations who give to breast cancer causes, and I will model for the Northwest Hope & Healing fashion show, and I will have a hard time saying "no" to anything else that comes up. I'm ready to fight....and I'm so relieved to fight for everyone through the Komen Foundation, and not just to fight for my own life.
The Race for the Cure and the Breast Cancer 3-Day are each incredibly worthy events. The Race's funds go primarily to the local (Puget Sound) affilliate, and those funds are used to support underserved and underinsured women with awareness, mammograms, and treatments. I almost took it for granted during my treatment, but I would have had a whole different set of problems if I couldn't afford tests and treatments. Every woman deserves a mammogram, regardless of income, and The Race tries to see that every woman has that kind of access, and that no woman is denied treatment due to lack of funds. I am giving my time to this important cause, with the belief that every woman needs the kind of care that I received during my diagnosis and treatment, and that money should not be an obstacle in receiving such care.
The 3-Day's funds go primarily to research to find the cure. The Komen Foundation gets most of their research money through the 3-Day, and that is why I am on a team again for 2007 to raise even more money for the 3-Day than we did last year. My only hope of sleeping well at night when Tessa is a woman is the hope that we will cure breast cancer in the next twenty years, and research is the only way to do that. I am passionate about fundraising for the 3-Day, and that is why I will be soliciting money from all of my friends and family when it's time for that event next year.
Two events for the same organization, with different goals, and I'm proud to be a part of each of them. I am ready to get my hands dirty (as they say) and dive into the hard work that is ahead. It is something I will do with passion and drive, becaues I believe so strongly in the cause. I will continue to support organizations who give to breast cancer causes, and I will model for the Northwest Hope & Healing fashion show, and I will have a hard time saying "no" to anything else that comes up. I'm ready to fight....and I'm so relieved to fight for everyone through the Komen Foundation, and not just to fight for my own life.
Update on the colonoscopy: benign!
I got the call yesterday that my pathology report was clean; the polyp had no cancer. I'm more relieved than I can tell you.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Pumpkin Patch from earlier this month
I'm in picture mode...
Here are some pictures of Tessa and friends (Derek, Paloma, Nina, Lexie) at the pumpkin patch in Woodinville, the South 47 Farm. A wonderful, sunny day!
Trick or Treat in the Junction
We went trick-or-treating in the Junction on Saturday with our friends Jessie (ballerina), Liam (bat boy), Zoe (Stephanie from Lazytown), and Tessa (dragon). I loved the dragon costume; we'd insisted to Tessa that she must wear something warm (NOT a mermaid costume) for trick-or-treating, and she fell in love with the dragon from Grammy. Thanks, Grammy!
Halloween Party!
Here are Tessa, Ryan, and I (aka Ariel, King Rydent, and Ariel's mom....the Mermaid Family!) at the Hisatomi's party last weekend. It was fabulous! The other shot is of Jessie-Ariel, Tessa-Ariel, and Nina-Fairy-Princess.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Surgery date rescheduled
I don't have time to go into the details right now, but due to a scheduling error on the part of my plastic surgeon's office, my surgery has been moved to November 10 at 2pm.
Sigh. I just want to get this thing over with! I am REALLY looking forward to having two breasts, and despite my frustration at the scheduling/postponement, I am deeply excited about seeing the final results.
Sigh. I just want to get this thing over with! I am REALLY looking forward to having two breasts, and despite my frustration at the scheduling/postponement, I am deeply excited about seeing the final results.
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