And The Beat Goes On...

Wow, I was just reading my last blog and realized that I haven't updated everyone. I think part of this is because I'm constantly updating on Facebook so I know that most of my friends and family have kept up with the happening of Steenie. But, I do also know that I have a few extra readers out there and I'm sorry for being so late with this. I actually have a lot to share so this may be a long one.

First, let me say that the Colonoscopy results came back normal. Well, I have internal hemorrhoids, but who wouldn't after taking that nasty prep medication? I mean, that has to be the worst experience of my life. Miserable...just miserable But, it's good to know that there were no tumors. My doctor also re-stretched my esophagus during another EGD. The biggest problem with my colonoscopy was getting the IV put in my arm. Well, they didn't actually get it into my arm. After three painful tries, they decided to access my port. Of course, even that couldn't go over easily. See, I need an extra long needle. Normal needles are 1 inch. Steenie needles are 1.5 inches. My port is in deep under my skin. Such is the luck of me. After all of that worrying, that's all there is. Thank goodness.

In June I went to see my general doctor and have myself tested officially for diabetes. She expected me to be in pre-diabetes because of the family history of diabetes and because of the steroids I had to take during chemo. Unfortunately, the test came back as I expected. I officially have Diabetes. So, I went to a diabetes class in July and I'm testing my blood sugar often. It's a bit of pain and I'm not very good at this whole thing yet, but I'm hoping to get a handle on this soon. Trying to eliminate everything from my diet is really the hardest. No milk, no pineapple (see below), low sugar, etc. I really do wish I could catch a break.

Right after this, I had a bit of a bad reaction to pineapple. Okay, apparently is was a huge allergic reaction to pineapple. I was sitting in my chair, enjoying pineapple when my mouth started to itch. Then, it started to burn. After that, my throat started burning. It felt like my mouth, tongue, and throat were swelling. Yeah, I thought it was just from eating too many pineapples because this was the first time I'd ever had more than a piece or two. So, I took a Benadryl (it was to swallow), read about pineapple allergies (They are extremely rare.), and convinced myself that I was just freaking myself out and that it was nothing. No, it wasn't nothing. My allergist said that I'm lucky to be alive and that I was a fool for not going to the ER. Apparently, I was in the beginning stages of Anaphylactic Shock. Oops. So, now I get to carry an EpiPen and have to eliminate yet another thing from my diet. It's confirmed...I am extremely allergic to pineapple and kiwi. Guess I should be happy that I'm alive.

Now for a positive...I also made a trip to NH this summer in June. My dad flew down and rode back with us. Logan and I had a great trip and I finally got to show one of my kids how I spent my summers as a kid. Logan got to see mountains, the Atlantic Ocean, waterfalls, mountain springs, and so on. It was wonderful. We were able to visit my aunt and play a lot of yahtzee. Logan met his great-grandmother. It was a whirlwind trip. The best part is that Logan has talked about it non-stop and can't wait to go back next year. He even has Tristen pumped up. And, he wants to stay longer. They turned thirteen a couple of weeks ago and I know how precious this time with the is. It won't be much longer before they don't want to do anything with family. I'm so excited. And, this vacation was something I needed so much. This break from life. Thanks Dad and Elsye. This trip meant the world to me.

Unfortunately, I had to come back to the real world. And, my real world involves medical problems. Always. I started feeling bad the last week of July. It was a cold, but it lingered. Usually, I get Bronchitis every August. I've had it for the last four years in August. So, I went to the doctor and caught it early so I was told I only had an upper respiratory infection. Because my doctor knows me so well, she put me on an antibiotic, Omnicef. It's the first time I've taken that particular medication. In hind sight, we should have known that was a mistake. About three days into taking the medicine, I started bleeding during bowel movements. I, of course, immediately went in to see my doctor. Yep, you guessed it. I had a bad reaction to the medication. It caused my colon to become inflamed and caused my hemorrhoids to rupture. I'm very fortunate that it didn't cause more damage to my colon. Now, I'm taking a suppository to help with all of that. Seriously? 

While I was at the doctor's for the respiratory infection, I asked her to run a test. I tell her I'm pretty sure I'm ovulating and that I have cysts. Why should I not be ovulating? Well, I'm taking medication to stop my body from producing estrogen. At least, I thought that's what Tamoxifen did at the time. I still don't really get it. The tamoxifen creates an "anti-estrogen" that binds with the cells that estrogen normally would...I don't know. Anyway, she did a blood test and I got the results when I went back because of my other problems. Yes, I'm ovulating. Despite the fact that my OB/GYN told me I was post-menopausal, I'm ovulating. What?!?!?! Why, oh why, can't one doctor just tell my I'm a hypochondriac? I mean, you can't make this stuff up. She told me to make an appoint with my OBGYN. Seriously, I'm at a higher risk for ovarian cancer. I'm ER+ and PR+ which means that my cancer feeds off of estrogen and progesterone. The last thing I want to be doing is producing more.

So, last week, I saw my OBGYN. I showed him my test result and he said that something had to have "kickstarted" my ovaries into action. He did an exam and had me get an ultrasound because of the pain. Haha, I guess I laugh to keep from crying. My left ovary is enlarged to 9.4 cm. That's the size of a grapefruit. It has multiple cysts with septations on it with the largest measuring 4.3 cm (apple sized). My right ovary has one cyst on it. The technician said she'd never seen an ovary like this. It was huge. She also said that it looked like I was going through fertility treatment. What?!?! The doctor said that this might make my decision to remove my ovaries (see below) an easier decision. Basically, I have to have surgery. He needs to look at my ovary and figure out why it's enlarged. He's concerned about a possible Ovarian Torsion. And, of course, the septations are a concern (more likely to be cancerous). Under normal circumstances, after looking at it he would make a decision whether the ovary can be fixed or if it needs to be removed. Given my circumstances along with the extremely enlarged problem, he's about 98% sure that he will have to remove the left ovary no matter what. By the way, surgery is scheduled for Thursday, August 28th. He would have scheduled it immediately, but wanted me to see my Oncologist beforehand. So, again, I'm faced with the "c" word and I have to make decisions. Again, I'm in pain. Again, I have to have surgery. Again, I have to worry. 

Today, August 25th, I see my Oncologist. Boy, do I have a lot of questions and problems for him during this first post-treatment (again see below) follow-up. I have to ask him about Tamoxifen and the possible effects it's had on me. During my research, I read that some doctors use it as a fertility drug. Next, I'm ovulating...am I supposed to be? Also, I have to have surgery and I believe that I need both ovaries removed. Hello, you told me that I didn't need to have my ovaries removed because the chemo would "destroy" them. Pssh, if any one's ovaries could withstand that and pull me from post-menopausal to pre-menopausal, it would be mine. Why does my chest hurt? None of my other doctors know why. I'm sure there are more questions, but the ovaries have pretty much trumped any other concern I had. Well, we'll find out today what his opinion is. I know my answer though...the ovaries have to go. I can't worry about Ovarian Cancer for the rest of my life. 

Now, I've kind of been avoiding posting this part. It's really good news. It's the news that everyone has been waiting for...

Why haven't I shared this? This is the question everyone has been asking me. Well, it's simple. I didn't want to jinx myself. I thought maybe if I didn't post this. Just maybe if I quit talking about it. Maybe, just maybe the other shoe wouldn't drop. Well, it's more than shoe. So many shoes have dropped that my closet looks like Imelda Marcos' closet. But, alas, that clearly didn't work. And, since the shoe has dropped, I've realized that I can't just worry. I have to enjoy the victories. So, without further ado...

I AM OFFICIALLY IN REMISSION!!!!!

As many of you know, I finished my last chemo treatment on July 3rd. Cancer cells have not been detected in my blood since my surgery. Some may consider that day to be my remission day, but I count it from the end of treat. It's the day I rang the bell. It's the day I rang the bell for me, for my grandmother who passed from cancer after a long battle, for every person who wasn't able to ring the bell. It was a very emotional day. I still get teary-eyed thinking about it. And, even though I will never consider myself cancer-free or cured because I know the fight doesn't end here (see above for examples), it was one of the best moments of my life. I had a Remission Cookout Celebration. It was perfect. I'd like to share my triumph with you and thank you for sharing this journey. You all are a part of it. And, even though it will continue, I'm so grateful and happy about this huge victory. 

Happy? Anniversary

Today marks the first anniversary of the self-discovery of the tumor that rocked my world. One year ago today I found a lump while itching my breast because of allergies. One year ago I became a breast cancer fighter…

Sometimes it's easy to become complacent with life. It goes on whether you are ready or not. You fall into a routine and life just keeps moving. You'd think that such a big event…Breast Cancer…would be so life-altering that you wouldn't become complacent. You wouldn't take life for granted. You wouldn't forget that you're a fighter. You wouldn't forget that this is a lifetime event. Well, I did.

This year has started out about as normal as you can get in my life. By the end of January I have my first bout with Bronchitis. It's nothing to really write about as it happens so often to me each year. By the beginning of February I'm already into my second epidural trying to treat the numbness in my leg that is associated with a pinched nerve. No big deal. The norm. So, I find myself having nothing to say about anything particular on here and don't write. As such, I leave everyone wondering what's going on with me. I guess you could say that I had my rose-colored lens on for awhile. I mean, I have my chemo down to a science. Go to chemo. Go eat at Olive Garden. Become tired and bitchy for a few days. Then, rinse and repeat. Of course, I was only fooling myself. So, without further ado, here's my latest and greatest…

On February 18th, I head in to meet my new Gastroenterologist. My last one retired and over the last few months I find myself with extreme GERD/Acid Reflux. My medication isn't working for me anymore. I double up on it and still no dent in the pain and discomfort. He lets me know that he believes it's a little more serious than expected. He believes that I also have Bile Reflux from my liver. What? Bile Reflux? Huh? So, he changes my meds, schedules a scope on my esophagus and stomach. He also runs a crap ton of tests. Routine, right? 

Blood work for my liver comes back abnormal. So, I return a couple of days later for more testing. While I'm getting blood drawn I ask the technician the purpose of the new test. She's hesitant with her answer and finally replies in a technical voice that the test is a Tumor Marker Test but that she doesn't know the reason why. Tumor Marker? I know what that is, you aren't fooling me with the technical term. Cancer? That's on the table? What? Is my imagination back? He also schedules an ultrasound on my liver. Hmm, I thought he said that an ultrasound wasn't necessary. So, when the nurse calls me to schedule more tests I ask if he's specifically testing for liver cancer. After a very long hold, she comes back and tells me that it is indeed to test for cancer. Seriously? Wouldn't my oncologist have detected one with my monthly tumor marker test? Ok, imagination, I'm not up for these games again. After much research I learn that there are different Tumor Marker Tests for different cancers. So, yes, my oncologist does a test for breast tumors, but not the rest of the body. Oh, great. Another scare. Fortunately, the results come back normal. I do not have a liver tumor.

On February 26th, I go in for my EGD (Esophagogastroduodenoscopy) with my mom-in-law. After the procedure, the doctor tells her that he stretched my esophagus to help with the small swallowing problem I'm having. It feels like things are stuck in my throat quite often. He also informs her that I have a Hiatal Hernia and a red stomach. Maybe that's why my upper abdomen hurts? He removes some polyps to biopsy and I get the report not too long after. The red stomach is Chronic Gastritis. No tumors found. Great. I didn't know we were looking for tumors. I'm kind of getting sick of that word.

On February 28th, I have my abdominal ultrasound shortly after I finish my latest round of chemo. Side note, it's not fun to go without food the morning of chemo. The technician measures, photographs, etc. my liver. I'm starting to feel a little worried again. Am I imagining things? Is she taking an extra long time? Please don't let it be anything serious. The results come in a few days later and just like everything in my life, it's not a simple answer. The ultrasound confirms that I do not have liver cancer. Yes! But, and there's always a but, I do have a fatty liver. Oh, man. Exhale. Fatty Liver Disease can be caused by many things, many of which I currently have…like obesity, diabetes, Sjogren's, certain medications (that I'm on), to name a few. And, while this isn't an immediate life-threatening illness like liver cancer would have been, it's still serious and is something I have to get in control. I have a lot of work to do to push this disease into remission.

On March 19th, I go to my follow-up visit with my gastroenterologist. I bring lots and lots of questions with me. Will my hernia repair itself over time? Why am I having more trouble swallowing after the stretched esophagus? Chronic Gastritis? Am I worried? My medication for the bile reflux is leaving me nauseous and with a stomach ache. What gives? Fatty liver? Yikes! What do I do? Oh, by the way, what's this line on the CT scan I had last year for my oncologist? I know it has something to do with my intestines. To say I overwhelmed him (This was just a sample of my questions.) is an understatement. So, he addresses everyone one subject at a time. Chronic Gastritis - very mild and you are already taking meds for it. Good to know. Hernia - it's common and shouldn't bother you. Eat bland things. Boo! Bland foods suck. Fatty Liver Disease - Change your diet and lose weight. It's not serious yet. Ok, as soon as I can figure out what I CAN eat, I'll get on this. It's do-able. Having trouble swallowing - Well, this is not the usual. I've only known 2-3 people who had trouble after the stretching and they had neurological problems. This is not the usual. Hey, doc? NOTHING about me is usual. Ever! Nice to meet you. Let's set you up with a Barium Study and see if you are having problems with your muscles or nerves. What am I not having problems with, sheesh. CT Scan results - Deep Breath (maybe this needs it's own paragraph.)

As he reads the one line from an old CT Scan result page, I get a sense of deja vu. Did his expression change or is it my imagination? He exhales deeply and asks me if he ignored this the last visit. I assure him that this is the first time I'm showing him because it was something that I just remembered from last year. I just didn't understand the wording and was hoping he could tell me what it meant. "This changes things. This is serious. Okay, (worried look on his face) we're going to have to do a colonoscopy. This line means that you could have a tumor in your intestines. Something is blocking the uptake. Now, I'm probably overreacting and it's nothing to worry about." Yeah, that's what your face is showing. Holy crap, another tumor scare. How much more can I take? Will it never end? Seriously, Imagination, I need you. I don't want to cry again, I don't want to cry again. ***exhale*** "I just think it's better to be overly cautious because you have cancer than to sit here wondering. Okay, I can handle that. Overly cautious because I already have cancer. It doesn't mean anything.

So, today, March 25th, on the one year anniversary of saving my own life by feeling a tumor, I am going in for my Barium Swallow Study. The weight of it all feels so heavy and I can't help but to sit here and think of the irony of going through all of the motions all over again one year later. I'll go in today, eat foods starting with liquids and ending with solids, while they take X-rays of my esophagus. They will be checking my muscle function, my nerve function, as well as looking for signs of tumors, complications from the hernia, etc. I guess my one and a half months of ignorant bliss is over. This really is a lifetime battle. I will always have cancer. I will always have scares. I will always be a cancer fighter. I will never forget again and I am making it my mission to make sure no one else forgets the strain, fear, and loss that cancer causes for those struggling with it and for those with loved ones diagnosed with it.

On April 1st, I'll go into the hospital for my Colonoscopy to check for tumors. He'll also do another EGD to stretch the esophagus and check it out. Again, in another bit of irony, this will be one year to the day that I had my diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound done. Is it a coincidence or is it foreshadowing? My Instincts and Imagination are screaming at me. Well, maybe just my imagination. I mean, it really is doubtful that I have a tumor that hasn't been detected. So, I'll be the first to admit that the feeling in my gut may just be a little off and a little on edge.

Then again, is anything ever simple with me? We'll see.