Life's not fair

I'm definitely in a funk. I feel very unreasonable, like I just want to pout. I'm not really in the mood to be reasoned with or talked to. Or even agreed with... I'd prefer someone not to talk to me about this at all. I undrerstand that me writing a blog on the subject that I'm in no mood to be talked to about is counterproductive but I don't care. SEE??? THAT'S the mood I'm in. Completely illogical and irrational...

According to my counter I have 2 days and some hours until my next surgery. I feel like at this point in April, I was definitely preparing myself. I was ready to face things head on...I didn't know what to expect, but I felt like I could take on anything that was thrown at me.

Oh, and there was plenty thrown at me! I needed several more hands to catch it all...in fact I wanted to throw some of it back. I won't rehash everything that's transpired since April..if you've read past blogs or kept up with me in any way than you'll know (and if you haven't, feel free to read past blogs!) But somehow, I prevailed. I didn't let any of that stuff get me down and I managed to be semi-normal over these past few months. I started a new job, got my hair done (courtesy of Ms. Barbara..my wonderful hair stylist at Tangles...shameless plug hehe), spent more time in the gym, saw movies, etc etc. I lived! I saw my PS a few times, but that was ok. Instead of rushing in with no makeup, hair in a ponytail, glasses, and too big button down shirts and workout pants with flip flops, with my drains hanging out, I bounced in with my hair done, makeup, and decent clothes. I no longer spent at least 20 minutes a day, looking at my new body in the mirror obsessively. I didn't obsess over every little change with my stubborn right side. When I had first had my expander removed, the doctor told me that it would be extremely hard to the touch...and it was like a brick wall! She told me it would soften up, and once it was softened all of the way up it would be ready to be operated on again. Imagine my shock when I looked down one day and saw it all soft again...I hadn't even noticed! I say all that to say this- I'd gotten back to some sembalance of normal. Even though my wardrobe choices were limited and I can't lay on my side for very long...you can forget laying on my stomach at all. I did make some goofy wardrobe choices...circa a 9 month pregnant Rachel on Friends coming out in a halter top and stubbornly asking everyone "What does it not look ok?"

I think about all of that...how I enjoy my life now and I realize that in 2 measly little days I'll have to START ALL OVER?!? That I'll once again be dependant on the kindess of strangers (Well really Mike and my family), have to deal with not 1, not 2 BUT THREE drains, take at least 30 minutes to take a shower, 5 of which include actually being in the shower the rest is just prep time, not really being able to actually fix my hair so it's thrown to a crap ponytail until my mom feels sorry for me enough to fix it for me, looking like death...and probably smelling like it too because my arm is too tired to lift itself up enough to put on deoderant. Taking my pain meds like clockwork, because the one time I tried to skip a dose I ended up in so much pain I wanted to claw my eyeballs out. Do I sound bitter?

Let me clarify...the recovery from the surgery isn't really that bad. It's no walk in the park, but it beats having cancer and going through chemo..and oh yeah the recovery won't KILL YOU. But this is where I start to whine...I've paid my dues. I've gone through the crap and I shoukl, in a perfect world, be getting readt for my implant exchange surgery so I could happily start this semester of school with new foobs. Instead, I'll barely have my drains out and I'll be thrown back into school. Which means I'll have to deal with fills as well as studying. But then again,  I guess in a perfect world I wouldn't have had to have the %&^* surgery in the first place.

I'm complaining now, but I know my personality. I'll bounce into my PS's office Tuesday to get marked and then bounce in the OR suite Wednesday morning, full of "Yes ma'am"s and "No sirs" and "please" and "Thank you." If they have trouble starting an IV or taking blood I'll apologize profusely like it's my fault that my veins roll. You see, ever since I was little I was taught to be polite to doctors and treat them with respect. You really are a product of your upbringing,,,which is a scary thought. That's a completely different blog topic that I'm not touching right now.

For the next two days, I'll go to the gym, play with my dogs, and play with my niece. I'll try to stock up at the grocery store and try to push my surgery out of my head. Do I dare hope it'll be smooth sailing from here after this operation? That I'll soon be back to bouncing into places and getting fills and before I know it, it'll be time for my exchange?

Only time will tell....

Testing, 1,2,3

As I've said before I made my decision to have a PBM based on a genectic mutation called "Cowden's Syndrome" which is a mutation of the P-10 gene (the tumor suppressor gene). I've always known about BRCA 1 and 2 but just thought that like every other thing in my life I was in the lower percentage of people who had different genectic mutations. I never really gave it a second thought...Cowden's was enough to deal with!

Recently, my biological mother passed away from breast cancer. I had been told that she had "the breast cancer gene" which made something click in my mind. Could I possibly have the BRCA mutation as well as  Cowden's? My first thought was, "Would God do that??? Would God give me two genectic mutations???" I timidly broached the subject with my BS during my pre-op consult. He said that it was possible that she was referring to the BRCA gene, but I shouldn't worry about being tested since I was having a mastectomy based on the Cowden's syndrome. He said I should wait until everything passed over and  THEN worry about getting tested.

I had tried to put it out of my mind as best as I could. It was always there, lurking in the farthest corner of my thoughts though. Could I be a BRCA carrier as well? I also knew that there was an ovarian cancer risk associated with one of the BRCA mutations. Since I'm only 27, I do not want to have my ovaries removed yet, but if I had a higher risk I wanted to know about it. I knew that ovarian cancer was a hard disease to catch in the early stages, but that there was a blood test that could be done to kind of watch certain levels in your blood.  I didn't really know too much about it though, mainly because all I could (still) think about was BOOBS!

My yearly dreaded trip to the OBGYN was due and I finally decided to make an appointment for today, so I could get it out of the way before my surgery Wednesday. When I got there, they handed me some forms to fill out and also an extra pink sheet. The receptionist explained that it was a questionaire that they had added for all patients. I looked down and saw it was a history of breast cancer, ovarian cancer and colon cancer in your family. I looked harder and saw that they had started offering the BRCA test to their patients. I sighed as the thought "Well, there goes my excuse that I don't have anywhere to go get tested:"

When they called me back to the exam room, the nurse brought up the subject of testing to me. I had already explained that I had my PBM in April and told her of my possible BRCA inheritance. She said just to bring it up to the doctor. When the doctor walked in, after I gleefully said "You don't get to feel me up this time!" then after he looked at me with surprise I explained about the mastectomy, I asked about the testing. I told him while I didn't want to remove my ovaries at this time, it'd be nice to know if I have an added risk. I also wanted to know every joyful thing I could pass on to my hypothetical kids (there are those hypothetical kids again). He said that we could do the blood draw in the office today and get the results back in a week.

So, here I am, waiting for my surgery date and waiting for my test results. I don't feel like I'm an emotional wreck about the test results like I know some people are. I guess it's since I've already made my decisions, carried them out, and am now just waiting on my life to get back to normal. I just want to KNOW. Because as cheesy as it sounds...the saying is true "Knowledge is power!" or at least in this case, ignorance certainly isn't bliss.

Out with the old, in with the new....

I realized earlier tonight that this is the first time since I've started this blog that I've gone more than a week without writing a new entry. I used to look at people's blogs who would go 2-3 weeks between updates and think "Wow, I hope I get to the point where I don't NEED to update all of the time.." Am I there?? I honestly don't know yet.

I went to the doctor this past week to have a "secondary pre-op consult." I'm READY to get this surgery OVER WITH! According to my counter, I have 10 days. I've gotten the time off from work approved and am ready to go. Just need to get my pre-op blood work done this week. One weird thing- they haven't gotten the approval letter from my insurance company yet. Since I've swtitched jobs, I do have new insurance HOWEVER I've paid for COBRA for this very reason. The people in the doctor's office said there shouldn't be any problem so I'm going to try not to let it stress me. I told them that I'd just proceed like everything was ok until I heard otherwise from them.

I don't remember if I made reference to it or not, but one of things that I did for myself before surgery was to have boudoir pictures taken. Now, this was a semi-difficult thing for me to do. I've always had some body images issues so the idea of parading around shirtless and again in lingerie wasn't a thought that was incredibly appealing to me. However, I knew that I wanted to capture the way that I was naturally. And I wanted it better than me snapping a pic with my digital camera in  the bathroom. So when a friend of mine recommended this photographer (Made You Look Photography), I went for it. I finally got the finished product today (no ones fault..I just waited awhile to get the pictures) I'm so glad that I did it! They are by far the best pictures that I've ever taken. I've never seen that side of myself...now granted I probably won't be parading around the house in lingerie but it definitely has helped me have more confidence!

I've been asked why I felt the need to take pictures...why I'd want to remember something that tried to kill me. It's very hard to explain...but I'll try! I needed to be able to hold onto something from the past. I needed to have something tangible to grasp and look at and say "That's what I used to be"  I didn't want this PBM to erase the person I used to be.

Now, I know there may be people who are thinking ,"You only changed the size of your breasts...how have you changed that much?" Well,  a PBM..or any mastectomy for that matter, changes you greatly on an emotional level as well. I'd like to think that I've matured a little this past year. I certainly look at things differently and process things differently. Puts things into perspective, I guess. So yes my bra size did change, but my outlook on life changed too. When I stop and think about what I've been through...what I'm going through now...I'm almost surprised at my strength and resilience.

Do I know what the new me will be like? What the finished product will be? I'm not sure yet....stay tuned!

Old Me

New Me??