Hunh...

A little over a week ago, I was having some neck pain, as if I'd been under a lot of stress and my shoulders were trying to conjoin with my ears. I didn't think much of it, other than to wonder what was going on.

On Saturday, I was sitting in my La-Z-Bum chair, playing Scrabble on my laptop. All the sudden I had an intense chest pain that radiated up both sides of my neck and into my lower jaw. I called the consulting nurse and she told me to get my ass to Urgent Care, which I did, thanks to my husband.

After a few hours, they determined that I had not had a heart attack, and there were no blood clots roaming recklessly around my body.

Then on Monday, in an innocent move at a park, I scraped my knee as bad as I ever did when I was little, and injured my ribs on the side of my body that I'd had cancer, surgery and treatment. The next day my chest hurt like crazy. I called the consulting nurse again and she said I'd probably bruised or cracked my ribs. On Thursday, it hurt so bad I called the consulting nurse again. She advised me to come in and see someone because the injury happened on the same side as the cancer, etc. 

So, I left work and went in. The Nurse Practitioner examined me and had me have a chest x-ray. The x-ray showed no cracks, but did show quite a few staples in my body from the cancer surgery.

I had no idea. I said "Hunh."

Isn't this the kind of thing my surgeon would have indicated were left me? In doing some googling on the topic, apparently it's not unusual to leave clips in after surgery, and it's not unusual for patients to be surprised when they find out later they have surgical clips in their bodies.

The NP told me the staples may have been wrenched during my fall, and that may be what's causing the pain. 

WTF?

Here's a photo of what breast cancer surgery "clips" look like. It's not my x-ray. Mine shows a lot more in a straight line.

The radiologist's report on my x-ray said "There are surgical clips in the left breast and left axilla." "Axilla" sounds like an animal on the Serengeti, something with horns that runs fast.

In which she learns that cancer is like an annoying friend she can't shake...

I saw my Oncologist a few weeks ago for my regular check-in/check-up. He said I'm doing well enough to come in every six months, instead of every three. It's a kind of graduation.

I talked to him about hot flashes caused by the Tamoxifen. I've been taking Tamoxifen for over two years. Amazing to think I've been having these hot attacks so long. He suggested I change to the post-menopausal hormone-blocking meds. I asked him about side effects, and he said "You're at higher risk for osteoporosis. Let's do a bone density scan."

The scan results show I have osteopenia, the red-headed stepchild of osteoporosis. 

Great.

At what point do symptoms stop being a result of cancer and treatment and start becoming a result of aging?

Hair, and the advantages of cancer treatment

My body is blossoming in hair. All the places that lost hair (which was everywhere) due to chemo are now sprouting like mad. My head is pelted, my groinicological area is pelted, my legs and eyebrows have hair again, etc. And, regretfully, my hag hairs on my chinny-chin-chin are coming back with a vengeance.

I am pondering never cutting or shaving my hair again, to experience the opposite of being so bald.

The hair on my head seems to change every day. Last week, it was clearly white on the sides and dark on top. Now it appears to be an even mix all over, and could be getting wavy.

The only place that isn't as hairy as it was before is the armpit that was operated on. I have a four inch long scar under there and I suspect that surgery removed some hair follicles.

When I see hairs in the bathroom sink at work, I know they're not mine.

*******

I now have six remaining radiation treatments. On Tuesday, they'll begin the "boost", of which I'll get five treatments. Then I'm done with radiation therapy.

I cannot wait to be done. I am more than tired of all this.

*******

It's been six months since I had surgery. Seems like a couple of years ago.

There are residual effects from the surgery, including continued numbness on the underside of my arm, my nipple looks like it's being tugged in from someplace inside my breast, and of course the two big scars.

*******

I've been thinking about the positive side effects of breast cancer treatment.

I've made a list for possible reference:

1. Spare time because of no hair (washing, drying, curling, etc.)
2. No need to shave legs or armpits (but then again, no desire to be seen in public in a skirt or sleeveless dress)
3. No scouting for facial hairs to be plucked because they're not supposed to be there
4. The heating bill goes down in winter (chemo-induced menopause and its associated hot flashes)
5. A socially-sanctioned period of it being okay to recline a lot (a revelation to those of us who have "look busy" bred into them)
6. Getting a seat to oneself on the bus because of how you look
7. No more menstruation (finally!)
8. Post-surgery pain meds
9. Learning about surgery drains
10. Learning what kind of nurse your spouse is....  or isn't
11. Learning to suspend fear

Pavlov's breast cancer patient

It is indeed becoming routine to get radiation therapy. When they tell me it's time, I enter this room, where multiple monitors have all kinds of data and information about me. I bark out my birth date, and they let me proceed into the radiation treatment room.

It's the end of the second week of six weeks of radiation. The last few days, when I'm laying down on the table, I close my eyes keep them closed until treatment's done. I've thoroughly explored the room with my eyes, there's no need for me to do that anymore. I am not interested. I just want this over.

*******

I will be done with radiation treatment about a month from now. I've decided to celebrate in two ways. First, many people at work have been a big help to me as I've gone through the whacky world of cancer treatment. I want to take a break from work and have lunch with them. I suspect that they also want to acknowledge my illness and the completion of treatment.

And I'm going to have an informal gathering at my house for friends and family. The challenge for me will be to not run the party, but to sit back and celebrate with those who care for me.

*****

After treatment on Fridays, I'm seen by the Nurse Practitioner. She looks at my breast and today she said she can see my skin changing. When I told her I didn't, she had me stand in front of the mirror. She pointed to where it's changing, and indeed I could see it. The area where I'm received radiation is becoming slightly discolored. 

She said that my nipple will become very tender.

Great.

*******

I was telling some coworkers this past week that I have no embarrassment about showing virtual strangers my breast. I've become accustomed to showing it whenever a medical professional asks if to see it.

I told them that I'm worried that some not-medical-professional will say the magic words one day and without thinking, I'll pull my shirt over/up/off. I'm like Pavlov's dog, showing my breast when the bell rings.

It's not unusual when treatment's done and I'm sitting up while they're retying my gown, for there to be someone standing there I've never seen before. One time it was a young man who was introduced to me as an intern. I wondered what he thought about seeing the odd-looking breast of a 51 year old woman who's bald and fidgety. 

chemotherapy: 1907, from Ger. Chemotherapie, coined by Ger. biochemist Paul Ehrlich (1854-1915)

 Eyebrows are coming in.

Eyelashes, too.

 It's strange, having stubby eyelashes.

The gray hair on the side of my head is growing quickly.

The dark hair on top of my head is not.