Breast Cancer. Two Cents Worth from My Tatas to Yours.

  Breast Cancer My Two Cents Worth in Bernadette's Musings from the Messy Room
The musings expressed here are strictly those of a woman making her way through breast cancer and are based solely on her personal beliefs and experience. They are not intended to sway or convince anyone of anything other than to honor-with-action what is right for them.
I’m following through on a decision for surgery this week with full knowledge that I will, no doubt, disappoint some folks before all this is over. I gain no pleasure from being in this position to disappoint. As a matter of fact, I have spent the greater portion of my life working to resolve differences so as not to disappoint. There is an irony that I find myself exercising my option to displease with a life and death decision. Who will be disappointed if I live – my way? Who, if I die – my way? I suppose that depends on how tightly the need to be right is clung to – your way. If you are someone who loves me, I know you’ll get around to understanding what doing this “my way” allows me to reach for – no matter how this goes. The angels gave me matches to play with in this life, death, cancer thing and I am learning so much while blazing this trail. And not just for me. (“Whoa. We gave that child matches and a blog?” I hear them chuckling.) If you are a distant-someone in my cancer circle and find yourself disappointed, perhaps you missed it back there somewhere. The invitation. What your path crossing mine was to give you. You may want to retrace your steps.
My decision is not one of surviving or dying; it is one of not diminishing myself while surviving or dying.
And so, I am going in for reconstructive surgery this week, against the advisement of some and to the dismay and breath holding of others. Am I getting a rebellious kick out of saying that? No, I am not. Am I trying to prove a point in choosing the road less traveled on the map of current medical models for breast cancer? No, I am not. Am I pointing to the many shades of gray that I wish would be included in the medical model presented to me? Yes, I am. Can I afford to go against the medical model with my life? Well, that depends on whom you ask. Had I decided to follow the white coats and not the white wings, I would be somewhere around week 17 in a 20-week regimen of chemotherapy after which I would receive a 6-week course of 33 radiation treatments. Landing me somewhere in April to get my immune system back up before considering if I had enough skin left – after radiation – to start the many weeks of skin expansion necessary for an implant. Maybe, by late summer, I would be looking at a reconstructive date for surgery as I am now – with another 6-week recovery period after that. And on and on... But my decisions in this breast cancer journey are not based on guidance from out there. As a matter of fact, few of my decisions ever are. My job is to know myself and take every decision to God first. Then I listen. Sometimes, Divine Guidance comes as a direct hit – right up front. (Don’t you love that clear YES or NO?) Other times, I gather information and ask, then ask again until I get a LEANING that lets me know wills are merging in this team effort between God and Bernadette. And that is when my two cents starts to miraculously multiply. Do I hope I live through this? Yes. Am I afraid to die? No. Am I more concerned with thriving every moment between here and there? Absolutely. You were led to read this blog for a reason. This may not be about cancer for you. It may be about something else in your life. A decision you’ve made that you don’t have peace with. (Did you follow the tribe of opinions while dismissing yourself?) Or a decision you are about to make – and may be postponing. (Did you forget that white wings are ready and waiting to give you a lift?) Wherever you are with decisions, I am encouraging you to spend your first two cents on the God Sense within each of us that guides us on our way – and gives us peace with the road behind us. As a matter of fact, I have some extra change here. How much do you need? My pockets are heavy. It’s not about how it ends, DEar HEaRTs. It’s about how we get there. XO Bernadette To be continued... Subscribe to this blog or follow me on Facebook. And if you like this then LIKE this! Remember, SHaRiNG is CaRiNG. If you found something here that inspired, you may know someone else who will feel the same.

Eenie, meenie, miney moe. Pathology report, here we go. Anatomy of a decision.

Eeinie, meenie, miney moe. Pathology report, here we go. Surviving breast cancer.   “Without adjuvant treatment local regional progression, distant spread and death are risks.” What would you do? My breast surgeon was expecting to find a 3.5 cm tumor – but found a 4.8 cm tumor instead. Pathology later uncovered an additional 2 cm tumor – hidden in the dense breast tissue that she removed. No indication in any of the many imaging tests prepared us for either surprise. Sentinel lymph node report, clear of cancer. Nine additional lymph nodes clear of cancer. Blood also clear of cancer. My surgeon said I’d made the right call to go for the complete mastectomy with no nipple sparing as the tumor was irregular in shape and attached to my nipple. (Imaging tests had indicated that I was a candidate for a lumpectomy with radiation. Hmmm.) Good news so far, right? Always nice when I make a good decision and God knows this was not an easy one. (See Kiss My Breast Good-bye.) It appears, however, that my life and death, decision-making muscle is being put to the test once again. Seems I have no clean margins. Or, in doctor-speak, margins of the tissue removed from my breast test positive for cancer. So, though the cancer party-crasher stayed local and never left the house, it played to the edges of the walls that contained it. Doctors don’t like dirty walls. I get that. My breast surgeon gets it, too. That I am disappointed because, all along, I have been weighing in on quality of life issues and risks that can present down the road as a result of invasive cancer treatments. And that I have been nutritionally proactive with alternative approaches since diagnosis. (A decision that, I believe, kept the cancer contained in the breast – through months of delaying insurance coverage complications, I might add.) But her job is done. She took all that she could take – short of muscle. Now I must consider what the radiation and chemo oncologists bring to the table.
Full breast radiation (hello, it’s gone) with 20 weeks of chemotherapy and 10 years of hormone treatments.
Still leaving me with a 10% chance that the cancer will return within 10 years and not guaranteeing complications will not be present in other parts of my body as a result of the triple-treatment hit. I am really wrestling with this decision, guys. Focusing on the fact that the tumors and all my breast tissue are gone, this feels like they are engaging the canons where a few well-placed snipers might do. But there don’t seem to be any snipers available. I know of women who are going through this cancer treatment regimen right now who still have their breasts with sizable tumors. (My prayers go out to those of you who have already made these tough decisions. You have my respect for the courage you express, everyday, to show up for yourself and your loved ones in the ways you have decided are best.) Survive as Yourself from Bernadette's Musings from the Messy Room on Breast Cancer Remember when I told you that if I blog about ReaLLy meSSy STuFF it will be for us to build muscle? Well, roll up your sleeves because I’m not playing alone. This is where my decision-making drama with cancer becomes your decision-making drama with [fill in the blank.] You make decisions every day. Now, what if every decision you made mattered – even ones that are not in a life or death category? Like the preference ones that say, “I want this. I like that.” Or the reaction, “Stayed up too late. Hit snooze. Reschedule that appointment.” ones. Even avoidance, “Let someone else make that decision.” ones. And lets not forget those coin-flipping, daisy-petal-picking decisions. Most decisions move you easily along while on cruise or autopilot. Others put you on notice, requiring stand-up attention. Sometimes, you know why you made a particular decision. Sometimes, you are clueless as to the criteria that motivated you. (Was alcohol involved?) But here is the one, most consistent thing about any decision you will ever make – and why you want to pay attention. You will live with the consequences. Life is an assumption we make while dying. Death is an assumption we make while living. Your decision.
When your decisions no longer matter, you stop living.
Make a decision to pause for a moment and take that last sentence in. Eeinie, meenie, miney moe. Pathology report, here we go. Decisions on breast cancer. I am making a decision to get comfortable with the question mark that now resides where my breast was. It offers a gift that reminds me of the preciousness of each day – found in every decision I make. How will I use my time today? How will I love today? Who will I laugh and cry with, today? And, as a nutritionally proactive woman who intends to beat this thing as naturally as she can, what will I eat and not eat that will strengthen me, today, while I wait two weeks for the results of another test that I asked the oncologist for? Why? Because, no matter who rolls the dice, I will be the one living with the consequences of my next decision. Not my doctors. I’m not an expert. I’m just a messy muse blathering on in a messy room – with dirty margins. Thank God, I don’t need to be an authority to make decisions matter. I just need to be the author of my own life. I have no more time to entertain ghostwriter decisions made on my behalf – unless they come through Grace and The Divine. I have a proposition for you. Walk alongside me for the next few days and take note of your decisions – like they matter. Consider three decisions – big or small – that you will make matter this week. And you are welcome to share them in the comments below! Here are some decisions that mattered to me this week.
  • Helped a friend organize her studio so she can move into the next level of her business. I played prima donna while “helplessly” sitting, pointing and suggesting. She did the heavy lifting that doctor's orders wont let me do. (5 lb. limit.) Amazingly, I found I can be a prima donna and maintain a friendship.
  • Gave myself a two-hour break from this dang compression bra that I am supposed to wear 24/7 for 6 weeks. I promise you, I did not do jumping jacks. And my poor right breast was very grateful.
  • Standing by my June decision to not feed the cancer by staying off dairy, meat, and refined sugar. I feel so much better and, surprisingly, not deprived at all. I made another decision that I did not have to be 100% perfect about this. For me, the need to hit the mark perfectly originates from fear – thus feeding it. Besides, 95% lets you have dark chocolate and eat out with friends.
  • Asked for the ONcoType DX testing, even after the oncologist said it wouldn’t mean anything because my margins were dirty. He finally understood that it was an important part of my decision-making process.
  • Met with a Doctor who specializes in oncological physical therapy to help with the aftermath of chemo (should I go that route). Right now we are focused on reclaiming range of motion in my mastectomy arm – and NOT getting lymphedema.
Now it’s your turn. As always, I am grateful for your visits and appreciate your comments. Remember, sharing is caring. If you found something here that inspired, you may know someone else who will feel the same. XO Bernadette