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 curlygirl's Cancer BlogAugust 31, 2008
I had my first setup appointment for my radiation on Thursday and they put two little tattoos on me, apparently to help them aim the beams properly. I am a rather preppy gal and I have an extreme fear of needles, so getting a tattoo is not something I would have ever considered. It’s fun, though to tell people I have two tattoos! Most people are shocked! After my last post, I have had the opportunity to cool off and I’m much calmer and less whiny now. I called the onco nurse and she told me that it’s normal for radiation to start about 6-8 weeks after surgery. Mine will start closer to 10 weeks after, but I’m ok with that, finally. I got my tamoxifen on Saturday, but did not start taking it right away because I was consumed with a fear of gaining weight. When I talked to the onco nurse about the delays in my starting radiation, she asked if I’d started the tam and I had to admit that, while I was stamping and whining about radiation, I was purposely delaying the start of my hormone therapy. The irony did not escape me. The nurse tried to calm my fears and recommended more exercise and a healthy diet. My friends promised regular walks to help me keep up the exercise part. I started the meds on Tuesday night. I’ve not really had much in the way of side effects. A little bit of achy joints and less of a craving for sweets (nice!), but nothing else, so far. On Friday, I have my second setup appointment, then (so they say) I will get my treatment schedule. I’m glad to know that we’re nearly on our way. My attitude of gratitude is back in force. I’m so grateful to have had such an easy path through the world of cancer. I’m grateful for the resources to promote and support my treatment and healing. I’m grateful for the loving support of my friends, family, and coworkers. It is a stark reminder of the fact that blessings are all around us. We just have to be willing to see and accept them!
Posted on August 31, 2008 at 9:42 AM by Kathy (
 I have two tattoos. How many do you have?,  5 comments)
August 25, 2008
I called today to find out what my appointment on Thursday with my Radiation Oncologist will be all about. I learned that it is just for a CAT scan. I also learned that I have an appointment next Friday (nice of them to let me know!) for a radiation verification. The claim is that, at that appointment, nearly TWO WEEKS from now, I will learn when they can fit me in to the radiation schedule. Does this mean I’ll have to wait another two weeks after next Friday to get started? Is this normal? How long is it even safe to wait before starting treatments? Is it possible for one’s head to explode from sheer frustration? (Deep breathing…deep breathing…)
Posted on August 25, 2008 at 7:39 PM by Kathy (
So this is why they call us "patients.", 5 comments)
Clearly, someone in that office needs to have their pants set on fire. I suggest choosing randomly…it will heighten the sense of urgency. ;) By the way… “Is this normal? How long is it even safe to wait before starting treatments?” Very good questions to ask your Doctor this morning. I’d like to know the answers myself! Unfortunately, it seems pretty “normal.” I went in for my CT 3 weeks before. Just think of it as more time for your surgery site to heal…before its zapped! XOXOStandard of care is 180 days after your surgery to start chemo or radiation. Hi, Kathy:
August 24, 2008
I finally got my Oncotype Dx results! I know the wait was not that long, but it had started to feel like a really long time. Anyway, I was looking forward to the results’ telling us whether I need chemo or not. Then the doc came in and told me that I fell into the “intermediate” group, so it was not clear whether chemo is appropriate for me or not. What!? Ok, so here’s the deal…the Oncotype Dx test is a genomic test done on the tumors of women with early-stage, node-negative, ER-positive breast cancer to determine how much of a benefit they can expect to receive from chemo. The “benefit” to which they refer is a decrease in the risk of distant recurrence (recurrence of breast cancer somewhere else in the body) within 10 years. Comprehensive studies have been done on samples from the target population and scientists have determined that patients fall into 3 groups. Those in the low-risk group are unlikely to gain a significant benefit from chemo and those in the high-risk group are very likely to gain a significant benefit from chemo. Those of us in the intermediate group, however, are in the range for which there is still not enough evidence to make a recommendation one way or the other. I thought I was going to cry. How much longer would I have to wait to get this decision made? My doctor was great and talked me through the results. I am on the low end of the intermediate group (my score is 20, for those of you in the know) and, with tamoxifen, my risk of recurrence is fairly low (5-13%, depending on which study’s results you look at). Apparently, before my diagnosis, my risk of developing breast cancer was 12%, so I’m doing the same or better than before, if I understand all this correctly. In addition, according to the stats from the studies, chemo would only reduce my risk of distant recurrence by about 3%. This didn’t seem like enough of a benefit to put my body through chemo, but I wanted to be completely sure. My grandmother died of a distant recurrence of breast cancer, so that danger was very real to me. I didn’t want to make the wrong decision and regret it later. So, Tim and I talked with the doctor and asked all the questions we could think of. The more we talked, the more strongly I felt that I did not need chemo. It has its own health risks and those risks didn’t seem worth taking for the 3% benefit I might gain and Tim agreed. The doctor said I could think about it for a couple of days, but I asked to get the appointments for radiation scheduled, as I was pretty sure I was not going to change my mind. I then proceeded to obsess about this decision for the next two days. I read everything I could find about the tests and the studies on which the statistics in the test results report were based. I consulted friends with backgrounds in biology and an understanding of the statistics I was looking at. I had the same conversation over and over with anyone I could trap into listening to me. With every piece of information I gathered, I felt more and more that I had made the right decision. However, I thought about it so much, I was actually frustrated by not having a moment’s peace to just sit with the decision and wait to hear what my inner self had to say about it. On Saturday, I took some time to quiet my mind, and I was really able to connect with a deep gut feeling that I had made the right decision. I realized that this was a very emotional decision on many levels. Of course, I was afraid of the illness and physical changes brought about by chemo, but I was prepared to face those if I needed to. The bigger issue for me was that I was trying to make the “perfect decision.” In talking with Tim, I realized that I was trying to make the decision that would bring my risk of recurrence to zero, which is not possible. I finally had to acknowledge that I will definitely get sick and die someday. I can’t prevent that through this decision, no matter what decision I make. This may seem obvious to others, but I believe that I truly thought I could plan my way out of that particular truth. That realization helped me to calm down and look clearly at the information I had. In addition, I think I was feeling a bit of “survivor’s guilt.” I have cancer…I sort of feel like I should be sicker. I don’t want to be sicker, of course. I’m unendingly grateful that I have such a good prognosis and that I will not have to put my body through serious trauma as part of my treatment. But I feel badly that I have gotten such an easy ride. There are so many people who are really suffering from this disease. I know it’s not rational, but I guess I feel like if I suffer more, then maybe someone else won’t have to. It doesn’t make sense, but it is what it is. It took a couple of days, but I’ve come to accept that my being well or ill will not affect the outcome of others’ diagnoses and treatment. So I’m finally feeling good about the decision. I have an appointment this week to get radiation set up, then (who knows when, right?) I’ll start radiation and 5 years of tamoxifen. I’m told tamoxifen will give me menopausal symptoms. I told this to a friend and she said that poor Tim’s gonna need a blog of his own! We are both happy with this treatment plan, though. I don’t know why I lucked out on this, but I’m grateful that I did. Kathy, The it is great to here that you are informed and making a your choices with full knowledge. Just tell Tim that you are willing to work around the symptoms of menopaus, everyone suffers from this uninvited guest. We love you… Cheers, Eyecandy (Paul) Have a nice day. Kathy and Tim, You’ve made the right decision – 3% isn’t worth all the discomfort that comes with chemo. Remember, you are in our thoughts everyday. Please let us know if we can help. Love, Deb and Brian Great news! I have to agree, for 3% I would not want to deal with Chemo. As for “survivor guilt”, I posted something alone these lines some time back. I agree that on one hand the ride has been easy, but on the other hand, the not knowing and the what ifs and the when will it come back are just as real and scary and disturbing no matter how much or how often you have had cancer. I think the biggest hurdle may well be survivorship. In a magazine at my urologist (Coping) there was an article that suggested cancer survivors suffer ptsd with an intensity similar to combat vets and rape wictims. I will pray for your peace of mind and freedom from guilt. Being a survivor is enough for anyone, try not to allow your mind to add to the burden. Be well and blessed Kathy,
August 19, 2008
That’s right, I have still not heard about my Oncotype Dx test, so I’m still waiting for a treatment plan. The good thing about all this waiting is that I’ve had a lot of time to think about things. First, I’ve decided that it’s better to be frustrated with waiting than to be really, really sick, so I should try to focus on how fortunate I am to have drawn the easy card from this cancer deck. Second, I’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with the fact that I might need chemo. It would not be my favorite thing in the world, but I’m not so petrified of it as I was a few weeks ago (we’ll see how I feel if I actually need it, though). And last, I’ve started to learn about the different varieties of strength we all have within us. A while ago (more than a year, now, I think), a friend told me that her yoga teacher said that we should all remember that there are postures we can do now that we will not be able to do later in our lives. Now, of course, this is a pretty obvious observation and the intention was to keep her students from placing too much importance on what physical postures they can and can not do. I, however, freaked out at this suggestion. I literally felt like I’d been punched in the stomach and I believe I actually said “No!” out loud. Hmm. What was that about? So, last week I went back to classes at the yoga studio where I normally study and I started to explore this question. I’ve been practicing a little at home, so I have a sense of what I can and can’t do in class, and I can’t go back to my intermediate practice right now, because it simply requires too much from the muscles around my surgery area, which are still healing up. So I went to a beginner’s class. It was a wonderful class, and it did help me to further explore what range of motion is safe for me right now. Unlike in my home practice, where I can just skip postures that I might have to modify, this class really pointed out to me where my weaknesses are and, even though I know these weaknesses are temporary and not a reflection of any character flaws, it was hard to witness them. I have always put a great value on being strong and I have very little tolerance for weakness, so this was pretty upsetting. On Saturday, I would normally go to a very challenging 2-hour+ class and I have been missing it so much! I knew I couldn’t do that class safely, though, so I went instead to a yoga/pilates fusion class at the beginner/advanced beginner level. What a find! It had just enough yoga that I got my fix and I got to work on some range of motion and a little strengthening so the muscles around my surgery area won’t atrophy, but most of the class focused on core strengthening, which not only did not bother my surgery area, but is also something I could really use! By the end of class, I was feeling great and looking forward to spending some time focusing on building strength in a new way. All this got me thinking about what strength really is. I’ve always been very body-focused when it comes to my own self-concept and I’ve defined myself by what I can do, physically. I was a dancer and now I’m a yogini and I feel best about myself when I’m physically fit and strong. When I’m not, I feel adrift. This is a very powerful force in my mind. Honestly, I’m not really that weak right now, but the slightest deviation from my norm throws me off balance, mentally. Thinking about this on my way home from yoga on Saturday, I realized that, yes I do have to favor some particular muscles right now. And yes, that means that I’m not able to do as much as I normally can. And I suppose I’d define that as weakness (temporary, though it is). But what I’m realizing is that this blip in my record of physical strength is not affecting my mental or spiritual strength. In fact, my mental and spiritual strength have improved since my diagnosis and surgery. I just haven’t noticed it because I haven’t been placing enough value on those varieties of strength. I’ve been feeling very guilty lately about how irritated and whiny I’ve been about waiting for my treatment plan. I know that others are literally fighting for their lives and I’m simply not that sick. I’ll have my treatments and move on with my life. In the context of all this thinking about strength, I’ve realized that we all have our own challenges and, along with those challenges, our own lessons to learn. I do not know what others’ lessons are, but I think a big lesson for me in all of this is that I am not defined by my body. I am its caretaker, but it is not who I am. My real strength lies within. I have said that many times throughout my life, but it’s finally starting to sink in and it gives me a feeling of having a strong foundation under me. What a gift, huh? The revelations that come from hardship and trial, are often, the sweetest and most blessing. I am glad to hear you have found such strength. Blessing These little wonders… I am constantly amazed at the new strengths I discover every day. It gives us peace in this horrible storm. XOXOKathy, you are amazing. I think it is perfectly natural to be frustrated about waiting for your plan, and I admire your patience and willingness to focus on other things (like the nature of strength) while you wait. If it were me I’d be punching people in the head left and right by now, which would, of course, be completely pointless and not help anything or anyone. That probably wouldn’t stop me though! So I admire your restraint, and ability to shift your focus. You are an inspiration! Punching people’s heads in my mind for you (ok, ok, I’m also sending love and compassion out into the world, but specifically to you), Hi, Kathy. I just finished reading every one of your posts. I totally understand the waiting game is hard, but I think you are being very patient and well together. Yuyu I myself have become very moody and agitated, I seem to find myself snapping for now reason at all and then feeling badly apoligzing for acting that way! I swear it has to be our emtional states that the “C” word brings along with everything else, but we are fighter and we will get thru this with the love and support from our friends and fammily here and at home! Life is to short as it is not to live it to the fullest Cancer or not! And BTW I am sorry, I did not read your cancer type on the side line until now, you do fall under the trial…so if all else and the insurance fails to want to pay for the oncotype DX testing join in the trial if your treatment relays on it…you can always drop out at any time and get what other help you may feel or your doctors feel you need…at least this way the test will be paid for you will know the reacurrance score and can go from there…God Bless and Good Luck you will be ok not matter the out come! See how having this “c” word thing bouncing around in your head keeps one mind spinning like a tilt a whirl, I seem to forget alot of things these days so hence why another post one right after another…thank goodness I am able to laugh at myself…but I have to number where the oncotype DX testing is done it is in Califorina if need be I can get you their number and perhaps you can find out what the hold up is, mine was back in the two week wait between office visits!
August 10, 2008
Well, I’d love to post some deep thoughts or even some information about my progress, but I have neither right now. I’m still waiting for the results of my Oncotype Dx test and I won’t know anything until that comes back. I did get to meet my radiation oncologist last week—a booby prize (yeah, pun intended) for having to continue to wait for my treatment plan. He seems really great. That’s a nice thing. I really don’t want to start a long string of comments about insurance companies, but I have to say that the big excitement this week was when the company that performs the Oncotype Dx test called me up to tell me that my insurance will probably not cover the test. That’s awesome. I guess they’d rather pay for treatment I don’t need or for a recurrence later on. Brilliant. Tim and I decided to go ahead with the test anyway and work on getting the insurance company to cover it later. I’ll tell you, when I heard they hadn’t started running the test yet, I felt like my head might just pop off my body. I just want my treatment plan and I want to know that it’s the best treatment plan for me. This test is simply necessary for me and my doctors to feel right about what comes next. So, I’m hoping that I’ll get the results late this week or early next week. Then, I’m hoping but trying not to assume, I’ll get my treatment plan and we can finally get moving. Grr… (That’s a sound of grumpy frustration.) Sometimes it helps, just to be able to come here and vent. Besides ya gotta love a girl who cab grrrrrrrr, growl…hehehe Praying everything gets moving Hugz Hey my new found friend and friends here at blog…I am not sure what type of cancer they detected in you but I heard words of concern for insurance on the oncotype DX testing…they will cover it if it is a must have ‘meaning your ono has to submit it as such…meaning famliy history, needing it for treatment plan, etc; but the doc has to submit it this way…there is also a trial out for this that you can sign up for that covers any and all cost and it is never to late to get in it as long as your cancer falls under the guidelines! You can talk with your doc about it and if they are not aware which I am sure they are, but if not I have all the info here and would be more then glad to share it with you! I fell in the guidlines of the trial but decided against it only because at the time I was so confused and my ono seemed way to eger for me to sign up for this, to the point that he still has me confussed on treatment plan…for some reason or other he does not want to commit to his thoghts on what would be best for me…not that I am wanting him to decide but at least I would like some imput from somone with so much knowledge in this field! But I can say I did have the oncotype DX test done just for the sake of having it done ‘great family history of breast cancer’ insurance picked up the cost and as my luck has seem to be going these days I fell smack dap in the middle of the middle no higher and no lower so this really concercens me to if I should do chemo or not, I said I would if it fell in the middle group at all and then when the test came back in the middle range of the middle I backed out and only because I do not have enough info on what is in my best intrest to live a long and healthy life falling into the reacurrance score and family history!
July 30, 2008
Just a warning: You may want to get out some cheese to go with the following whine. So I met with my oncologist for the first time today. I was really hoping to get some information about what the next steps will be for me and when we will start, but no. I know I wrote in my profile that cancer has taught me that I can’t control the universe, but I’m really still learning that lesson. I realize now that I went into today’s appointment with a script in mind: Doc: Ok, you will need radiation. It will be 5 days a week for 7 weeks. It will make you tired, cumulatively over time, then the fatigue will wear off within a few weeks afterward. You will then take tamoxifen for 5 years, which will give you menopausal symptoms, then it will all be done. Me: Great! Can we start radiation this coming Monday? Doc: Yes. I’ll see you then. But that is not how it went. My doc wants me to have the Onco Dx test, which will take at least 2 weeks. Then I’ll have to wait to meet with her again. Then, at that point, I believe we will know what the course of treatment will be. We know for sure that radiation and tamoxifen will be in the mix, no matter what. Chemo is not off the table yet and it’s that decision that the Onco Dx test will inform. Little Mary Sunshine has to take a backseat at this point. I am frustrated. I want to know what is going to happen and, more than that, when! I feel like my life is in limbo right now. I don’t know what the treatment will be, therefore I don’t know what the schedule will be, therefore I don’t know what my work schedule will be or how I’m likely to be feeling at any given time over the next several months, so planning anything in the near future is just not possible. I seriously dislike that. More complaining: So much of this experience has been a matter of hurry up and wait. I rush to be on time for appointments, then sit around in waiting rooms and exam rooms. I fill out the same paperwork with the same information over and over. It’s pretty frustrating, especially because I am still not moving forward. If I was getting somewhere, maybe I’d feel less frustrated with the details. Ok, so on the positive side, the doc did say that I’m a “very healthy woman” and that my surgical incisions look great and should barely leave any visible scars. That was nice to hear! I’m sorry for the whine fest. Go get some dessert now. &:-) Hi Kathy, I don’t no if you can have this kind of treatment,but if you have time check Mammosite.com Hugs Sherri Hi Kathy, I agree the waiting is the hardest part. But, WE MUST be patient. I was thinking yesterday that if I was not a patient person before, I sure will be when this is done. One day at a time I keep telling myself! Hang in there, the days will pass quickly. Take Care. Bo I’ve heard that a glass of whine a day is good for your heart. I know that having everything in limbo would just about put me over the edge. I hope that you are able to have some peace and stay in the moment. I love you, Hi, Kathy: Whine on sister whine on. My mom told her oncologist, “you may be praticing medicine, but you sure as hell ain’t praticing on me.” They told her their plan and she told them she was going home for a martini, she would return when she thought better of their plan. I don’t know that she ever went back, she refused treatment because she did not want to feel that bad. She made her own decisions, right or wrong and lived by them. Make the doctors work for you, remember you hired them, they aren’t doing you a “favor”. It helps to get a bit angry, at the cancer and at peole who offer up less than their very very best. I may well die, but it will not be without everyone’s best effort to the contrary. Be well and blessed You have done so little whining in your posts; you are more than due. Always remember that you are a Goddess; a tough broad in a gorgeous, tiny package! And you are loved, even when you are angry or frustrated or whiny. And God bless Tim! p.s. Marge is in charge and all is well.
July 25, 2008
Yesterday morning, I was packing up my things to go to work when my cell phone rang. It was my surgeon’s office, which was odd because my surgeon was on vacation and not expected back until today. Well, it turns out she’d popped in to pick up some paperwork and Linda, the woman in the front office, insisted that she read my HER2 test result so I could finally get that hurdle out of the way (I’d been waiting 3 weeks for the results). The test came back negative. This is very good. If it had been positive, it would have meant chemo, for sure. From what I understand, this test result lowers my chances of needing chemo, and that is a good thing. I so appreciate Linda’s calling me right away! I knew I was eager to get the results, but I had no idea how much it was affecting my brain. Of course, Tim and I were happy and relieved, but I was amazed at how much clearer my mind was, how much more work I was able to get done, and how much better my body felt throughout the day. It’s amazing how things can build up without our even knowing how bad they’ve gotten. No matter now, though, because that waiting is over. So now it’s just a few more days to wait until my oncologist appointment. I’m looking forward to meeting her and finally finding out what the plan will be. I guess that’s when this adventure really begins. I realized this week that I’ve been focusing on how great I feel now and how great I will feel once the treatments are over and I’ve been completely avoiding thinking about how I will feel during treatments. I suppose that’s probably a good thing, as I have no way of knowing how I will feel during treatments AND I don’t even know what treatments I’ll be getting! There’s no point in worrying about something that might not even happen and that I can’t control anyway, right? But I am guessing that it will be during treatments that I start to really feel like A Cancer Patient. Right now, especially now that I’m back at work, I just feel like normal me with a little temporary limited mobility in my right pectoral muscle. I am aware of the fact that I’m technically A Cancer Patient, but I feel so good that it doesn’t seem really true. I guess it’s just that, right now, I feel like I’m done and the cancer part of my life was over with the surgery. I don’t know what A Cancer Patient is supposed to feel like, of course, and I’m certainly not looking to feel lousy! I guess I’m assuming that, as I progress through treatments, I’ll get to the point where the label Cancer Patient feels familiar. I’m really hoping that I’ll still be able to hold on to this positive attitude and use my support network and yoga to stay feeling as normal as possible. So far, the signs are all good. Maybe I can actually pull that off!
Posted on July 25, 2008 at 4:36 AM by Kathy (
A small, but significant, bit of good news, 4 comments)
Hi Kathy, I am so grateful that you are sharing your experiences and feelings with those of us who love and care about you. You’re a super writer! I am so happy to hear that you results came up negative. You’re right about things adding up and accumulating stress without us always realizing it. I’ve actually felt that way lately too since we’re putting on a home addition and preparing for the adoption. Whenever you need a friend, I’m here. You and Tim have my warmest thoughts right now. Love, Rebekah Keeping you #1 on the prayer list! Kathy,
July 22, 2008
Now that the euphoria of the great news from my pathology report has worn off, I’m feeling a little frustrated at all the waiting I have to do before I know what my treatment plan will be. I’ve been certain that I will just have to do radiation and hormone therapy, but chemo is still a possibility. I’ve avoided thinking about it as much as I can, and now I’m starting to feel like, if chemo is part of the plan, so be it. I’m strong and healthy. I can do this. Of course, I’d prefer to skip chemo altogether, but if I can’t, I can’t. I just want to know! Next Wednesday (my first oncology appointment) seems so far away right now. Argh! Adjusting to this new life in which I spend so much time waiting to know what’s going to happen to me is really starting to get to me. When I think about it, we never really know what’s around the corner, whether we are ill or not. Now that I have a diagnosis, however, the illusion of control that I normally have in my daily life has been taken away. I have been able to let go and just flow with this for a couple of weeks, but now I’m really, really ready to know what the plan is. I went back to work yesterday. It went well. I have such a great group of colleagues! I’m so fortunate. It was nice to be back in my usual routine and have something productive to do that doesn’t cause me to exhaust myself. I’ve started to have some pain in the muscles surrounding the area where my surgery was done, so it’s good for me to be busy with work at my desk, rather than at home fighting the urge to weed the garden or clean the basement! So for now, I’ll try to be grateful for this in-between time when I can pretty much just live my normal life for a little while. I have no idea what treatments will bring, but I can be pretty sure what my day at work will bring! Ah, wonderful, lovely, predictable routine. I gotta love it! It’s good to see you back at work. I think people, colleagues and friends, breathe easier having seen you. You exude such strength and calm – you might not feel that way, but it is so clear. I hope no one says anything insensitive to you – people can feel awkward sometimes and just the wrong words tumble out. We all love you.
July 19, 2008
It was bound to happen eventually, and Thursday was the day. After getting the news from the doctor, I was finally able to relax and on came the tears. I’m a well-known crier, but I have cried very little during this whole adventure. I wasn’t holding it in—I just didn’t feel the need to cry. But on Thursday, all the waiting and avoiding the what-ifs finally caught up with me. When I think about it now, I realize that I was holding a posture similar to that of the Statue of Liberty or Winged Victory (with arms, though). I was positive and strong and moving forward in a purposeful way, which is all exactly what I would have wished for myself, but I never relaxed! So Thursday I let myself cry as much as I wanted. Then when that started getting old, I went to the mall for a little retail therapy. It helped to finally be out of the house and among the living, doing normal-people things again. I was still a little down for the rest of the day, but I suspect that it was related to a reduction in the amount of adrenaline coursing through my system. By yesterday (Friday), after a good night’s sleep, I was in a much better mood again. Of course, I completely overdid it on Friday, so today will have to be a rest day. It’s too hot to weed, anyway, right? (Just say yes.) Learning to rest. Learning to go with the flow of events and emotions. Learning to accept help. Learning that everything on my to-do list does not have the same urgency and learning to leave the less urgent things for later. There’s so much learning involved in having cancer! So, I’m off to practice resting now. We’ll see how it goes! I’m so excited about your good news. If you have to have cancer, you’ve got the best type, as my doctor would say. I was diagnosed July 18, 2007, with the same type you have. The only problem with mine is that I’m Her2 positive which takes too long to explain. The bottom line is that I’ll continue to get one drug every three weeks for a year or more. I’m not complaining! I finished 6 months of chemo and 6 weeks of radiation this past April. I’m glad you won’t have to have chemo, although I had very few problems with it. And the radiation was a breeze——-I’m hoping your’s will be, too. Enjoy your new feeling of relief and just enjoy living! :) a good cry and some retail therapy. Sounds like a pretty nice day. ;-)
July 16, 2008
It’s Stage 1, baby! That’s what I’m talking about! Oh, my goodness, this was exactly what I was hoping for! It turns out that the tumor was larger than they’d thought, but it is still only about 1 1/2 cm. And the best news is that my lymph nodes are clean! Woo-hoo! So, tomorrow I’ll get an appointment set up with an oncologist and, I believe, we’ll discuss the course of treatment and the schedule at that appointment. I’m looking forward to getting started so I can be that much closer to done! I want to thank all of you who hoped and prayed with us and who sent positive energy our way. It helped us to get through to today. Tim and I are both very relieved and happy! Yeah! The no lymph nodes bit is the best. I’m so happy for you, Kathy! What a relief! Awesome, baby. I could not be happier for you and Tim (and me, too). This is such good news I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I’ve been doing a little of both. Yay, yay, yay. Love You!
THANK GOD. That is the best news possible, especially the clear lymph nodes. I am so happy for you. My thoughts and prayers will continue to be with you.
Hugs, Joyce Fabulous news! So happy for you & Tim! Great news, Kathy! Onward and upward! Best love-Patsy You are Women you are strong. You will get through this. Hug Sherri
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10.14.08 - 
Auntie Carole 
Thanks for your support -
Hi Kathy,
I have been on Tamoxifen for 1 month and have not put on a single pound I may of even lost 1 or 2. I have decided to stop taking it after much research on it and other alternatives out there. I would love to hear how you do on it.
I just finished radiation. It was tough on me because I didn’t have the greatest support system. I have 2 tatoo’s as well. I feel like a bad ass. The 6 weeks flys by. I rarely got tired. I rode my bike to my appointments for the first 3 weeks then it got to hot. You are going to do great!
Kathleen
18
1 Left Calf
3 Right forearm
3 Left forearm
1 Right elbow
1 Left elbow
2 Right upper arm
1 Left upper arm
2 Right chest
2 Left chest
and as of Thursday
1 Left inside elbow (in the crease)
1 Right inside elbow (in the crease)
But hey your 2 are cool….......
Hugz
Mac
Sorry, on the inside of my right bicep there is the prayer of St Francis, from my arm pit to my elbow and on my right there is the Lord’s prayer filling the same space, elbow to armpit. That should make 18 with 2 more scheduled.
Not that I am competing just wanted to fit in with the board “bad asses”
Mac
Okay I am sleepy…Left bicep is St. Francis Right is the Lord’s prayer
Hooray for a treatment schedule! That must be a tremendous relief. Sometimes just having a plan of action is comforting.
In answer to your question, I have one tattoo – I just got it last month! It is a little design I created myself, and represents my family: the sun cradling the moon, with three stars ascending from the two. I will send you a picture sometime. I was afraid of how it would feel, but it was so much less painful than I expected. I’m not feeling badass, though – at least no more than usual. :)
Continuing to send love,
k