My First Tattoo(s), with Frankie Baby

Last week I met with the radiation oncology team to create a radiation treatment plan. Much of this appointment was spent flat on my back in the radiation room while the very lovely technician Alice (!) gently pushed and prodded me into position. A mold of sorts was created of this position so that I am in the exact place every time during radiation. Along with the exact positioning of my body, Alice marked me up all over the place with markers, tested out the beams (without the radiation) on the target spots, and then—gave me four very tiny tattoos, which will be used as guides for the beams. Although they are very tiny, those little suckers still hurt like h***. Fortunately, Alice had cued up Frank Sinatra on her iPhone for me and he helped me through it.

Radiation starts on Thursday, March 15, and will be every weekday at 3:10pm until Monday, April 30. Many thanks to the people who are doing pick-up at Wade Thomas during these weeks. I could not do this without you!

Here is Josie by the fireplace this weekend. She loves the fire so much—I can’t tell if it’s comical or scary. We often have to pull her back from the hearth because we are worried she is going to crawl into the coals!!

No More Than 33

Next week I meet with the team at Dr. Halberg’s office to do my radiation treatment planning. The week of March 12 I’ll start radiation. Dr. Halberg has promised that I will have no more than 33 radiation days, which works out to a maximum of 6 ½ weeks.  I can do anything 33 times.

If you are looking for a book full of compelling research and great stories illustrating the power of a community….look no further than here. My friend Allison Belger has written an amazing book showing how much our physical and mental well-being benefits from connection to a community. I can vouch for this first-hand as I have had unbelievable support from my community throughout my treatment for breast cancer. (Full disclosure here—I'm honored that Allison considered my story worthy of inclusion in her book. When you buy it, its at about the 60 page mark).

F all!!

Three Things We Need

1) Radiation: While my cancer journey is not over yet, I'm feeling closer to 100% than I have in months. The plan is to do one more expansion at the end of the month, wait a week, then start radiation with Dr. Francine Halberg, a radiation oncologist at the Marin Cancer Institute. Dr. Halberg is right downstairs from Dr. Head, Dr. Kelley and the chemo lounge. There is a lot of healing going on in that building. Radiation will last no more than 6 ½ weeks, so I should be done by the end of April. Hooray!

2) Chocolate: Here are the girls yesterday before school. Valentine’s Day arrived just in time and proved a great distraction from my parents departure the day before. While Grandma and Grandpa are still missed, the Valentine's Day chocolate is really helping to ease the pain.

3) Love: We couldn't do this without our family and friends--their love and support makes this all possible. Thor (the handsome old guy on the right) knows all about love. Thor and Toni welcomed Thea—a 1 ½ year old Chihuahua—into their home last month. Thor—who is 12—has been acting like a 9-year-old ever since she arrived. I guess love can work wonders for everyone.

Expansion Underway. Looking for Prototypes.

Just kidding!

Dr. D’Amore began the expansion process this week. During the surgery on January 9^th, he put in “expanders” which are essentially empty plastic-y containers. He will fill them up gradually—about once every ten days—until I reach the right size. This process creates an adequate space for the implants, which will go in about six months after radiation.

The expanders were pretty uncomfortable the first few weeks after surgery, but the expansion process rounded out the corners and I feel a lot better now. The best news I got last week is that I’m cleared to exercise again. Hello 5:15!!

Care Managed

Returning to normal after surgery. For the most part I feel better now than I have in months. Compared to how I felt during chemo—I have no complaints. There are still restrictions on how much I can move my arms, but I’m learning to deal because I know that this is temporary and that I’ll be back to 100% soon.

As much as I am not feeling like a patient anymore, my health plan still views me as one that needs some extra monitoring. So, as of last week I have my own nurse care manager. A care manager is someone who monitors the more “complex” patients to make sure they are getting the care the need, and cynically, not costing the system too much. My first job out of grad school was at the Care Management Institute at Kaiser Permanente. Back when I was figuring out how to help KP manage their complex patients, the thought did not cross my mind that I would need this same service for breast cancer at 46. Chris is always working with his students on understanding irony. I believe we just found a good example for him to use.

One thing I’ve been able to do a lot of this week is work. As much as that might not sound like good news to some, it makes me happy to have energy and the mental wherewithal to get my work done. One wrinkle in my plan to be completely productive is Josie. We are working on her ability to sit nicely next to my desk while I work:

Unfortunately, her favorite spot is more like this:

We have some work to do.

Just Me & My JPs

Chris returned to work Thursday after an almost two-week stint of round-the-clock care of the girls and I. I required a lot more attention than Elsa and Alice for sure and Chris handled all of his responsibilities beautifully. I’m not surprised--as the nurse in Dr. D’Amore’s office said this week, “I can tell that your husband is a very competent person”. Yes he is, but we’ve known that for a long time.

Fortunately, I had lots of company after Chris went back to work. Jackie (who is in the picture above with her lovely family) came down from Oregon to see me, Arbella (cancer-free for two years, and my beacon through so much of the past six months) and Kristin all came by with food and presents and sat down with me for some much needed chit-chat. We also had a constant stream of meals from our dear Wade Thomas friends—every night someone new showed up on our doorstep with bags of food. Thank you everyone!!

So, having passed the test of those first two days without Chris, I’m quickly returning to normal which feels great. I walked the girls to school last week, and started driving yesterday (hooray!). On Monday I’ll get my JP drains out. These little suckers are supremely annoying as anyone who has had surgery can attest. We are all counting the hours until Monday’s appointment. 

“The Best and Very Highest Chance of a Complete Cure”

These are the words we heard from Bobbie Head yesterday, after she told us that my tumor was completely gone.  This is the best possible news we could receive.

We learned this week that I had what is called a “complete pathologic response” to chemotherapy—meaning there is no sign of cancer in the nodes Dr. Kelley took out on Monday, and my tumor is completely gone. About 30-40% of people have a complete pathologic response to chemo given before surgery, and these people have, as Dr. Head said, (and I like to keep telling myself), the best and very highest chance of a complete cure.

We have decided that I will do radiation—as my doctors have said, this is like an insurance policy against the cancer returning. Since radiation will not start for awhile, for now I am at home-spending lots of time with Chris, who has taken time off of work to take care of me, reading, resting and really enjoying the idea of not returning to chemo.

Yesterday was Chris’ birthday. So much was celebrated with this chocolate cake!