Bye Bye Boobie.. (Warning..there are breasts in this post!)

On Tuesday I was supposed to get chemotherapy.  I was feeling really tired.  I arrived at my appointment and waited.  The nurse finally called me into an exam room and took my vitals.  My temperature was 101.5 degrees (F).  My temperature is usually 97.9 or low 98’s.  The doctor came in and said, “No chemo”.  I told him what had happened regarding the scar tearing open.  He examined my breast and felt the heat coming off of my skin.  He also recommended that I not get chemo the following week.  Dr. D was pretty certain that I would be getting the expander removed and he figured that I would need time to heal and get over the infection.

I called the Plastic Surgeon‘s (Dr. W) office upon leaving the oncologist. His receptionist said she would call him and get back to me.  About 20 minutes later she called back & stated that the surgeon stated that I should continue with the antibiotics and continue to keep track of my temperature.  If the wound started oozing, or pus started coming out, if my skin got redder, or if my temperature spiked I should call the doctor on his cell phone.

I headed home and vegged out on my couch.  I continued with the antibiotics (Keflex) and Tylenol with codeine.  My temperature started to go down (probably from the tylenol).  I also put an icepack on my breast area to cool down the skin.

Later my temperature went up again.  I called Dr. W and he recommended that I give it another night to see if the antibiotics would do the trick.  I agreed.  I really did not want to have another surgery.

The next morning, my temperature seemed normal.  I spoke to Dr. W and let him know.  I said I would call back if anything changed.  During the day, my temperature rose slightly to 100 degrees.  I took more Tylenol and took a nap.  At around 4 pm, after waking from my nap, I took  my temperature and it was 101.9 degrees.  My skin felt hotter.  I called the doctor again and told him.    The Dr. W said that he could do the surgery that night if necessary or we could try to wait another day to see if the antibiotics would kick in.  At this point I was extremely upset and frustrated.  I knew that the next day would not be a good day for surgery because my son had a bunch of doctor’s appointments scheduled (in order to complete the physical he needed for college) and my husband would be busy taking him.  Dr. W told me to let him know by 6 pm if I wanted the surgery that night.

I texted my oncologist in NYC, Dr. G with an update and he said that he would call the plastic surgeon.

I was going crazy waiting for my husband to come home.  I think I took my temperature every 5 minutes.  I took a tylenol but my temperature only went down slightly.

I called my mom to see if she would be available the following day.  If I had surgery that night or the following day, my husband could still take my son to his appointments.

I ended up opting for the surgery that night.  My skin was getting hotter.  My fever wasn’t breaking.  I was anxious and frustrated and on the verge of breaking down.  I didn’t want to keep waiting for fear that my vanity (not wanting to have only one breast), would cause me to get even sicker.

I called Dr. W and asked him if my oncologist spoke with him.  Dr. W told me that the oncologist wanted him to be aware that I had chemo last week and to be aware of my blood counts.  I asked if the oncologist recommended surgery and was told that the oncologist isn’t the one who recommends these things.  I was on the verge of tears and told Dr. W that I wanted to do the surgery that night.  He told me to head to the Emergency Room (ER) at 6:30 pm and that he would be there around 7 pm.  They would know I was coming.   He also had to call for operating room staff.  (“Same day surgery” would be gone for the day, so on-call people would have to be called in).

I was still really upset.  Charles advised me to take a shower and start getting ready to head to the hospital.  It was after 5:30 at this point.

At 6:30 pm, Charles and I arrived at the ER.  We went to the check-in window and got me checked in.  They knew I was coming.

(On a side note:  the woman at the window, who was clearly younger than me, called me “sweetie” a number of times.  It really annoyed the shit out of both me and my husband.  I know I was on the verge of tears because  I was overwhelmed, but don’t patronize me.  I am not your “sweetie”.  My name is Maria.  I would have said something to her, but I was too upset and I didn’t want to come over sounding like a bitch.  I know Charles bit his tongue).

We were directed to cubicle #9 in the ER.  A couple nurses came in and took my vitals, while another asked questions, whose answers went into the computer.  My temperature was a little bit lower but I had taken Tylenol about an hour or so earlier.  I was given a gown to change into.  They asked me when I last ate (a couple hours earlier) so I could only get local anesthesia.  They stated that Dr. W was due in at 7 pm, but I would have to see the ER doctor first, as Dr. W sent me to the ER.  Charles looked at me and shook his head.  Just more money to bill the insurance company for.  A real “cover your ass” move.  I clearly had a doctor who would be at the hospital shortly to examine me, but  I had to be seen by the ER doctor as well (so he wouldn’t be sued if something went wrong??!!!) I blame this insanity on this litigious society.  Now all doctors must cover their asses at our expense!!!!  The nurses were pretty cool though.  They told me that Dr. W had sent over some orders (blood count etc) that would get done.

The ER doctor came into cubicle #9 to examine me.  “Oh you have a fever?”.  “Yes”.  “Let me check your lungs”.  (They were clear.  No wheezing.  I had been coughing.  A dry cough.  This is how my asthma usually presents itself).  “Well..we are going to do some blood tests, blood cultures,  a chest X-ray..”.  Charles jumps in, “No chest X-ray. That is not necessary.  She is not wheezing.  She’s had enough X-rays, and tests.  She is here to get her expander removed”.  The doctor, “Well, we have to rule out the cause of the infection.”  Charles, “You can see the cause of the infection.  Her breast is bright red”.  The doctor, “Oh it’s just a small dose of radiation.”  Charles, “She’s had more than enough radiation.”  The doctor leaves the cubicle.  Charles goes off.  “They want to do all these unnecessary tests on you.  You don’t need more radiation. You are here to get the expander out.  He can’t see that your breast looks like an eggplant?” (it wasn’t quite that bad)…..”And what was with  that girl calling you “sweetie”.  Did anyone ever teach her manners?  She should have called you Maria, or ma’am, or by your last name, not sweetie.”

Not quite an eggplant!

Not quite an eggplant!

Thank God Dr. W arrived shortly thereafter to stop the insanity.  He took one look at my breast and all he said was “OK”.  He left the cubicle to see if the Operating Room was ready.  He came back and I heard him ask the ER staff about the orders he had sent over.  Someone responded that I was to get a chest X-ray, etc.  Dr. W’s response, “No.  I just want a complete blood count“.  If the surgery doesn’t do the trick, we will worry about everything else later.”  Charles just looked at me and nodded, “See.  I told you that you didn’t need all that other stuff “Dr. Doolittle” wanted to do. He’s just some guy following a book.  Someone comes in with a fever, do this, this, and this.  We know what your problem is.”  When Dr. W came back in, I asked if my breast was red enough.  His response, “It’s definitely red.  Redder than it was on Monday.  If you were my child, I would have tried to wait it out but you are my patient.” As he was leaving the cubicle, Charles stated, “You look good.”  Dr. W was wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt (Adidas I think).  Dr. W made a funny face & left cubicle #9 to get dressed for surgery. I remarked, “Well he is a plastic surgeon.  If he looked bad, I couldn’t see him getting much work!’ Charles and I were able to laugh.  Definitely broke the tension.

Another nurse entered cubicle #9 and he took my vitals.  My temperature was starting to climb again.  He also asked more questions and seemed surprised that this bald woman beside him had a living will and advanced directives.  The phlebotomist came in and took my blood.  The nurse told me to take off the rest of my clothing.  I had been sitting there in the lovely hospital gown and my yoga pants and mint green Converse All-Stars.  I disrobed but left my underwear on.  (Hey..I was cold).  Then I waited…………..

The plastic surgeon came in and told me that everything was just about ready in the ER.  I waited a little longer and ran to to bathroom.  ..In my gown and underwear!  Shortly thereafter I was wheeled into the ER.  It was bizarre.  I have been wheeled into another ER in the past fully alert & I didn’t like it..at all.  Probably the anxiety of it all.  This time I was wheeled in alert and I would be staying alert for the duration of the surgery. I was surprised.  I wasn’t even getting a sedative.  The nurse seem surprised that there was no IV in my arm.  I was surprised as well.

I was hooked up to all of the monitors.  Something cold was put on my left thigh.   My arms were lightly strapped down so I couldn’t move them (which made it very difficult to pop my ears).  But I didn’t panic. The area around my breast was prepped.  Orange colored stuff was painted all over my breast, towels were placed all around my breast.  And Dr. W put some down my side.  He specifically stated that he was doing this because my drawers got saturated on Sunday when he had irrigated my ripped open scar. My response, “Damn..I knew there was a reason I should have taken off my underwear.  I forgot about that!”  Another sterile pad was placed around the area and then the nurse put a drape up.  My comment, “Crap.  Now I can’t watch!”  She replied, “You want to watch?  You are one strong woman.”  I heard that a number of times during the course of the surgery.  I hadn’t expected the drape.   The plastic surgeon or one of the nurses (Mary or Theresa)  told me everything as he went along.  “Your going to feel a little pain.  Stinging.  I am giving you the anesthetic.”  It definitely stung.  I could hear and slightly feel it as Dr. W snipped open the nice neat stitches  (or sutures) he had put in a few days earlier.  He told the nurse that he had stitched me up on Sunday & his whole back story prior to coming to the ER that night.  “You are going to feel some tugging.  The doctor is taking out the expander.”  I felt a lot of tugging and pulling and stretching of my skin. I definitely cursed a few times.   I could see their silhouettes behind the drapes.  I started humming “Me and Bobby McGee”, my favorite Karaoke song, while they worked.  The nurse said I had a nice voice and should sing for them.  I continued humming and asked if they could put some music on.  One of the nurses put an oldies station on.  We started discussing music.  Fluid was suctioned out of the breast area.  Apparently some cloudy fluid had collected in the area below my armpit.  (I had been experiencing pain and swelling in that area).  Dr. W stated that the fluid was to be sent to the lab for a culture because the oncologist would want to know what was causing the infection.  There was no pus.  Dr. W and the nurses remarked at how lovely a breast pocket I had.  (Dr. W had made the pocket previously).  It was pretty funny listening to the banter in the OR and being able to chime in.  They started irrigating the opening in my breast.  It was chilly.  I am happy to report that my underwear did not get wet.  Good job Dr. W and nurses.  Dr. W then began to put the drain in.   Another prick on his end and quite a few “Holy shits” on my end and the drain was completed.  Dr. W began stitching me up.  Then I was all taped up and the surgery was over.  “You are such a brave and strong woman.”  Thank you Nurse  Theresa and nurse Mary.

I was transferred to a bed and was able to sit up a bit.  It was nice not being wheeled into the recovery room and having nurses constantly call my name to try to wake me up nor did I have to hear all the beeping of monitors, when all I want to do is sleep.  I was not nauseous and did not vomit, which is one of  my side effects of general anesthesia.  (The only time I didn’t totally loathe general anesthesia was when I had my double mastectomy.  As I was being admitted to the hospital for a few days, I was allowed to sleep.  I have no memory of the recovery room.  I woke up in my hospital room).

Dr. W left to give Charles an update.  Nurse Mary completed paperwork, while Nurse Theresa counted supplies.  While the nurses finished their paperwork, Dr. W wheeled me into the hallway so that Charles could see me.  The expander was wrapped up in a towel and given to Charles as a gift.  I love his sense of humor.  (There was no one in the area as the Same Day Surgery staff was all gone).  We sat there while Dr. W finished paperwork and we all talked.  Dr. W warned that my fever might spike that night so I should be aware but it would probably be normal in the morning.  I asked if I would need IV antibiotics.  Dr. W stated that we should know tomorrow if my fever doesn’t break.  We then talked about the state of medicine.  About electronic medical files and how the government is asking for more and more information about people in the files.  And how much tougher it is getting to practice medicine.  The costs of schooling is going way up and the pay is going way down.  Etc..  (In a previous blog I wrote about my issue with NYU.  One of the reasons the appointments were running so late was the new computer system that had just been installed.  When I got into the exam room, the nurse basically asked for my whole medical history and entered it into the computer).   Dr. W wrote out orders for the floor nurses and when the ER nurses were finished with their paperwork, they wheeled me up to the 4th floor.  Room 4o1.  On the way, I asked if the nurses were getting paid overtime.  They were “on call”, so they’d be getting paid.

Room #401.  I wasn’t there very long. Maybe 35-40 minutes.  A nursing assistant took my temperature and my blood pressure and a nurse came in to see how I was feeling.  My vitals were OK though my temperature was still a little high.  I was told that I’d  have to pee before I could leave.  I asked for some ginger ale and some water.  I drank a small can of ginger ale and a small pitcher of water.  I was also given some Tylenol with codeine as the pain was starting.  Charles was encouraging me to drink as quick as possible as he really wanted to get home as well.  I called the nurse in, said I had to pee, peed, got dressed.  The nurse emptied my drain and showed me how it works and how to empty it.  I walked over to a wheelchair.  The nursing assistant wheeled me down to the entrance of the hospital where Charles was waiting with the car and we drove home.  We arrived at the hospital at 6:30 pm and left at around 9:40 pm.  Not bad!

I took a look in the mirror.  It’s kind of weird having only one breast.  I know it’s a temporary situation and when chemo is done, I will try the expander route again.  Hopefully next time there will be no complications.  And if there are, we will figure something else out.

Dr. W called me the following morning.  My fever never spiked.  In fact, my fever was gone.  Less then 25 cc’s of reddish fluid had been collected in the bulb of the drain. I spent most of the day on the couch resting and on my hammock sleeping.  My mom and daughter spent the day taking care of me.

Dr. W’s office called this morning.  Still no fever.  Reddish fluid still collecting in the drain.  Hopefully the fever stays gone!  Still taking antibiotics.  I can’t really see the color of my skin because the area is covered in gauze and tape but the area above the tape seems alright and doesn’t seem hot.  I will continue to take it easy today and this weekend.  I see Dr. W on Monday, possibly to remove the drain.  (When I asked him earlier how long I would have the drain, his response, “When it stops draining”.  Wise ass!.  I asked about the results of the fluid culture but they aren’t in yet.

I know this is a long one and just kind of ends.  But my arms are getting tired from all of the typing.  I’ll catch up soon “Sweetie”.

Bye Bye

Bye Bye Boobie

Burn baby still

Well it seems that getting re-radiated really does have a negative effect on skin.  I had surgery over a month and a half ago to replace the leaking tissue expander ( basically a breast implant that can be filled with saline to expand it) in my right breast.  The Plastic Surgeon stitched me up internally to minimize scarring.  Last week I started taking Tae Kwon Do classes again.  I hadn’t been to a class in a few months.  I took it easy in class and didn’t  go all out.  I also had been trying to stretch my chest  because my breast area seemed so tight.  A couple nights ago, while lying in bed, I reached for something inside a drawer in my night stand.  I thought I somehow popped a leak in my tissue expander  because I felt wetness on my chest.  I got up and went to the bathroom and realized blood and  fluid was dripping from my chest and there were bloodstains on my shirt and pajama pants.  I lifted my shirt to find that the surgical scar had opened.  I had about a 2 inch opening in my right breast and I could see the expander.  It was very bizarre.  I thought it would gross me out, but I was surprisingly unfazed by the whole thing.  I grabbed some gauze pads and covered up the opening and put some surgical tape on it.  I woke up Charles & we headed to the Emergency Room.

The ER doctor got in touch with my Plastic Surgeon.  The Plastic Surgeon arrived within a half hour (in nylon sweat pants and a sweatshirt).  He examined me and gave me two options.  He could take the tissue expander out and stitch me up or leave the tissue expander in, stitch me up, and keep an eye on me & if there is a problem, take the expander out later.  We decided to keep the expander in for now.  The Plastic Surgeon and nurse set up a little surgical station.  The doc sterilized/disinfected the area and then he removed some saline from the tissue expander.  He then  irrigated the wound, injected some type of numbing agent into the area & then started stitching me up.  This time the doc used internal and external stitches.  He put some steri-strips and gauze over the stitches & then taped me up.  I watched most of what he was doing.  I was sent home with antibiotics and tylenol with codeine.

My doc told me that the combination of radiation and chemo probably caused my scar to tear.  I also won’t be doing Tae Kwon Do for a while.  The doc recommended that I work out on a stationary bike, that way I won’t stress the chest area.  I guess that means push ups are out as well!

I went for a follow up today.  So far, the doc says everything looks good.  I’m to call him if I develop a fever or chills or if my skin gets hot/redder.  We are keeping our fingers cross that all goes well.

IMG-20120222-00002 (1)

Hats, wigs, and bandannas….Oh my!

Chemotherapy kills cells that divide quickly.  One of the side effects to many chemotherapy drugs is hair loss.  My hair  was falling out in droves and was in danger of clogging the drains when my husband and I decided to buzz the remaining hair off of my head.  (At the beginning of month 4 of chemo, I still have eyelashes and eyebrows, though my eyebrows are thinning).  What to do with my bald head?  I don’t know how you bald guys do it because when we first buzzed my hair off, it was still winter, and my head was freezing. Around the house, I usually don’t wear anything on my head.  (Today my son Christian was staring at me and he said he couldn’t remember what I looked like with hair!).  But when I go out of the house, I usually like to have my head covered.  (Though I have gone bald and have been complimented about my lovely shaped head). My sister Evelyn (aka- the default sister) made me a bunch of  large bandannas and bandanna-like head coverings in a variety of colors (lots of pinks and purples-my favorite).  I also purchased a couple of brimmed hats.  I usually wear the bandannas.  Occasionally I wear hats.  Sometimes I wear the bandannas and hats together. But whether I wear a bandanna or a hat, I always try to accessorize with big or long earrings.

Evelyn's head scarves

Evelyn’s head scarves

CJ and scarves 003 CJ and scarves 005

http://www.yelp.com/biz/the-coffee-house-edison  (If you watch the video on this page, you will see an example of the hat with long earrings look.  I couldn’t find a picture).

I also purchased three wigs.  My husband asked why I bothered because in 1995 when I had chemo and lost my hair, I bought a wig and wore it three times.  The first wig I got for this round of hair loss, I purchased from the American Cancer Society’s TLC website.  I thought I picked a wig that was similar to my original, pre-graying hair color (brown with red highlights).  I should have listened to what was recommended on the website and purchased a hair color swatch to match to my own hair.  (***Buy the swatch folks!!!)  The wig was also short haired and similar (I thought) to the way I had my hair cut before I started chemo.  Not so much!  When I put it on, I didn’t look like me.  I’d say I look like a suburban soccer mom, but I don’t want to insult all the soccer moms out there.  When my husband put the wig on, all I could think was “Vote For Pedro!”  The one redeeming quality is that the wig actually fits nice.  I don’t see myself ever wearing the wig in public though.

funky soccer momSoccer Mom

Vote For Pedro

Vote For Pedro

I went to NYC to see my oncologist and prior to my doctor’s appointment, a friend, Sally brought me to a wig store on West 14th Street.  I bought two additional wigs there.  I am going to a wedding soon and don’t want to wear a bandanna or hat.  I wanted some hair.  I recommend trying on wigs before purchasing them!  I had a couple issues with this store.  They limit you to trying on only 3 wigs, though the saleswoman let me try on 4.  That sucks.  Why the limit?  I can see if I was a teenager and was fooling around and trying on a ton of wigs but I was obviously bald and was looking to make a purchase.   They also didn’t allow me to take photos with the wigs on.  It would have been nice to get Charles’ opinion before I made the purchase.  I liked  and purchased two.  One long haired wig and one short haired wig.  They seemed OK when I tried them on, but they are “one size fits all” wigs.  The problem with that is that I have a small noggin and I feel that the wigs bulk up at the top and back of my head.  I don’t know if that is actually the case, but that  is how the wigs feel to me.  I call the shorter wig “the Chicago Wig”  and the long hair wig “The 70’s disco chick”.  So far, I’ve only worn “the Chicago” in public….once..to chemo.  Wearing wigs definitely takes some getting used to.  I find them to be itchy and hot.  As for the wedding, I’ll probably be a “Disco Chick”.

Chicago Wig

70's Disco Chick

70’s Disco Chick

A triple play?

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am no sports fan.  As for participating in sports, I’ve tried, but I stink.  My hand/eye coordination is lacking, I over analyze when trying to participate, and most sports don’t appeal to me.  As a young teenager, I started taking dance classes, which I paid for.  I loved tap, jazz, and ballet. Tap was and still is my favorite.  I wasn’t very good at acrobatics but I took the class anyway.  I also loved, and still love, to read and to sing.  I started taking Tae Kwon Do (TKD– a Korean form of marital arts) about 9 years ago with my children, Xavier, Christian, and Gillian.  You may say, “But that is a sport”.  True, but my favorite part of TKD is the poomse (forms).  I like the dance-like moves.  As for full contact sparring (fighting), I can do without it.  I don’t like getting hurt and I really hate the bruises that resulted from getting hit.  (I haven’t been able to spar in quite a while though).  Gillian, on the other hand, loves to spar.

There were a few reasons why I wasn’t good at sports.  I was the only left handed person in my family.  My parents didn’t have much money as my dad was ill and my parents had eight children to support.  When I first started learning to play “catch”, I had to use a “righty” glove.  When I tried out for Little League, as my older sisters had, I had finally just gotten a “lefty” glove, and I was ass backwards when it came to fielding and throwing a softball.  I didn’t make the team that everyone who tried out for was supposed to make. That was the end of my Little League career.  I also wasn’t really into sports.  I didn’t enjoy playing softball, basketball, volleyball, etc.  I was a bit of a “girly-girl”.  I liked dance.  I was thrilled when in the second half of my freshman year in high school, I was allowed to join the “Modern Dance” class.  Modern Dance became my gym class for the remainder of my high school years.  Hurray! No more changing for gym class and no more embarrassing myself trying to play games that I had no coordination for and no interest in playing.

So why “Breast Cancer‘s Triple Play”?  Charles.  My husband Charles is a huge sports fan, as are my sons Xavier and Christian.  When I met Charles 24 years ago, he played full court basketball everyday.  He also played softball and baseball regularly in Central Park.  He played football and racquetball.  He was good at any sport he tried, so unlike me. He and Gillian watch Mixed Martial Arts matches together.   He is a fan of the Yankees, the Giants, and the Knicks.  Charles came up with the name.  It certainly fits as I’ve had three breast cancer diagnoses & my cancer is Triple Negative.   We all hope that this round of treatment will be “the triple play” and any remaining cancer cells will be “called out” in my body and this extra inning and this game will end with me and my team as the victors and those pesky cancer cells as the big loser.

Radiation…again….Burn baby burn..

Last I left off, I was getting ready to see a radiation oncologist to see if I was a candidate for breast re-radiation.  I made an appointment and saw Dr. E. At first, Dr. E  thought my oncologist lost his mind because you just don’t re-radiate.  The doctor advised that some of the possible side effects to radiation therapy included lymphedema (swelling) of my right arm, rib fractures, heart damage, etc..etc.  Dr. E hadn’t realized that I had been diagnosed with breast cancer for a 3rd time.  Once he understood, he stated that he wanted to put my case before a “tumor board” (basically a bunch of doctors get together to discuss a case), because my case was so interesting and unusual.  Great! My case is interesting and unusual! Why can’t I win the lottery? That would be interesting and unusual!

It was the opinion of The Tumor Board that my third diagnosis (August 2012) was most likely cancer cells that were left behind in the needle track from the needle biopsy I had in November of 2011.  Because I had a skin sparing mastectomy, all of the cancer cells were not removed.  The Tumor Board recommended additional radiation therapy.  Apparently the chemotherapy I was on at the time, did not kill the cells that were in my breast.  A doctor (can’t remember which one) told me that it was possible that the chemotherapy didn’t stop the tumor growth in my breast because I had so much scar tissue, so the chemotherapy didn’t circulate through the area very well.  Dr. E also recommended I get a second opinion with a radiation oncologist who dealt solely with breast radiation.  He recommended a specific doctor based out of NYU.

I was able to get an appointment for 10 days later with the doctor (Dr. F) at NYU.  My appointment was scheduled for 11 am.  I arrived at 10:30 am.  When I paid my co-payment, I was given a receipt and when I looked at the receipt, the doctor listed wasn’t Dr. F  & my appointment time was changed to 12 pm.  I brought this to the attention of the receptionist and was told that Dr. F was busy and that I was going to see a doctor that worked closely with Dr. F instead. (No one called me to tell me that my appointment time had been changed).  This doctor was also running behind schedule & the receptionist was unsure as to when I would actually see this other doctor.  I had plans to go to lunch so I asked if my appointment could be rescheduled until later.  I rescheduled for 2:30 pm.  I returned at 2:20 pm & the receptionist seemed surprised to see me.  I was brought into an exam room and a nurse entered a short time later.  She told me that they had just started using a new computer system so they were running behind.  About a half hour later, a very young looking doctor came into the exam room and started examining me.  I asked how old he was because he looked very young.  It turned out he was Dr. F’s intern.  I had no problem being seen by an intern because I know that doctors have to train & I was informed that the other doctor would be in shortly.  Apparently the doctor was discussing my interesting and unusual case with other attending doctors.  I waited about an hour for the doctor to come in an examine me.  He did an exam & then explained the possible side effects and various techniques they could use for radiating me (radiating twice a day).  He then explained that since I had such an unusual case, he really wanted me to see Dr. F.  Well Duh! That’s who I made an appointment with in the first place! He told me that it would be at least an hour as Dr. F had some sort Dept. Chair meeting (or something).  I could have left the office and come back but I was wearing  heels and I didn’t feel like walking around the city.  I didn’t see Dr. F until a couple hours later and I was totally confused by what she had to say.  I think I was at the office for far too long.  I started to feel like I was in a Charlie Brown movie. After listening to 3 different doctors, all I heard was “wah wah wah”.  The bottom line was that Dr. F recommended that I be re-radiated as well.

*Recommendation from me- the first time you see any doctor, don’t go alone.  I was overwhelmed with information & after awhile, I heard nothing.

The day of Superstorm Sandy, I had a PET Scan. When we left the office, the wind was whipping like crazy.   I am not good with MRI’s and PET Scans.  I never used to have a problem with these tests but now I get anxiety and I freak out.  Xanax anyone?  The PET Scan results were negative, thank God.

I started radiation therapy about a week after Superstorm Sandy.  Prior to radiation starting, I had a CAT Scan to map my right breast.  This occurred about a week before I actually started.  The physicists do their calculations and a radiation plan is made.  A foam-like form is also made prior to radiation therapy.  The form is made so that you are always in the same position during radiation, with your arm over your head.  I went to radiation therapy for 5 days a week for approximately 7 weeks.  The areas radiated included my whole right breast, my armpit, the subclavicular lymph nodes, and the mastectomy scar.  I ended up with a very nasty looking radiation burn.  Every day, I put Aquaphor on my breast.  I also had prescriptions for hydrocortisone & silvadene.   Right before Christmas, Dr. E gave me a week off from radiation because my skin was looking really crappy.  My right underarm was peeling and my breast was extremely itchy and achy.  On Christmas day, I ended up having an allergic reaction to something (possibly a combination of the silvadene cream and shrimp) and spent the evening in the Emergency Room.  This was after an EMT and paramedics showed up at my house.  It was quite the adventure.  NOT! I finished radiation on January 7th, a few days after my 46th birthday.

The actual radiation therapy itself doesn’t take very long.  I’d show up at the radiation center, change into a gown, sit and drink some hot cocoa & wait to get called into the radiation room. Before I entered the room, a radiation tech would scan my bracelet.  I’d enter the radiation room, the tech would lay a sheet and my foam like form onto the table.  I’d lie down and the tech would place the radiation machine in the proper position and then leave the room.  Then the machine would start doing it’s thing.  The actual radiating took about 2 minutes.  Sometimes the techs would take a few X-Rays, so it would take a few minutes longer.  Then I’d be done.  I’d leave the radiation room & change back into my street clothes.  Once a week, I’d see the radiation oncologist, Dr. E or Dr. G & then I’d be on my way.

Besides the nasty radiation burn, my side effects included fatigue, and itching and pain at the radiation site.

Radiation burn

Radiation Burn

Why me? Why not me?

I sometimes wonder why I had breast cancer.  Statistics tell us that 1 in 8 women will get breast cancer in their lifetime.  I am one of 5 daughters (still living),( and three sons) born to my mom & dad, so there was a chance that one of us girls would end up with breast cancer.

What is so different between me and my sisters?  We all grew up in the same household.  But, I am the only left-handed daughter and a quick Google of “breast cancer and left handedness” seems to show a correlation to increased risk of breast cancer in pre-menopausal women (based on a study in the Netherlands published in 2005), though a more detailed look seems to show no correlation between left handedness and breast cancer.  The study was fairly small.   My first diagnosis was at age 28. My second at 44.  I was pre-menopausal.

I work in a highly stressful profession.  For most of the first eight years I worked for the NYPD, I worked steady midnight or “late tours”  (1988-1992 and 1993-1995).  Studies seem to show that women who work late shifts for many years seem to have a small increased risk of breast cancer.  (Looks like I’m two for two)!  Two of my sisters are nurses (also very stressful) and have worked crazy shifts as well but I don’t believe they worked steady midnight shifts as long as I had.  I also worked “late tours” between 2004-2006, upon my promotion to Lieutenant.  Actually in any position within  the  Police Department, the tours can vary greatly.  You can work a day shift one day, an evening shift the next day, and a late tour next.

At different times, while working, I have been exposed to carcinogens (basically anything that can cause cancer) and have had a  number of X-Rays due to injuries I sustained while working.  I remember responding with my co-workers  to 20th Street & 3rd Avenue a couple days after a steam pipe explosion in 1989.  Asbestos and who knows what else, was dispersed into the air as a result of the explosion.  I remember seeing people, possibly from the Environmental Protection Agency, wearing personal protective equipment including suits and face masks, while my co-workers and I were wearing only our uniforms without so much as a dust mask.  I also remember remarking to a co-worker that “something is wrong with this picture”.  We were assigned to the location for a few nights to keep residents and on-lookers out of the area.  I was also (along with thousands of others) exposed to whatever crap was in the dust and debris from Ground Zero in the weeks following 9/11/2001.  Even on days not assigned to Ground Zero, the exposure was possible because co-workers would return from the Trade Center Site trekking the dust back to the precinct on their boots and clothing.  There were also other incidents that I responded to, including fire scenes, etc.  A lot of incidents in over a 26 year career.  As for the X-Rays, in February 1994, I slipped down wet stairs on a burglary job injuring my back, neck, and shoulders. I spent 8 days in St. Vincent’s Hospital (with an additional 4 days about a month or so later).  In the days, months, and years following, I had a number of X-Rays, MRI’s and other scans done.   Could the various exposures have anything to do with my diagnoses?  Well we already know carcinogens cause cancer and X-Rays can increase the risk of breast cancer in some women.

Here’s hoping and praying that none of my family members and friends, especially my mom, sisters, and my daughter will have to deal with a personal diagnosis of breast cancer.  I will be their 1 in 8.

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