The Lotus Flower

Out of the darkness

The struggles I have endured

My life, I take back

-C. Nguyen

Mirroring my life this past year is the lotus flower. The lotus flower starts out growing in muddy pond water, far away from the sun. Once it comes to the surface of the water, it blooms into a flawless and delicate flower. What perfect symbolism, agreed? In different cultures and religions, the lotus flower represents many ideals. Rebirth, life, purity…For me, this timeless flower is a daily reminder of the beautiful life I have after my battle with cancer. 

It has been a relaxing summer. We didn’t take any trips anywhere, but I still enjoyed every minute of it. Sleeping in and being lazy rocked. Now it’s back to the busy-ness of work and school. I am still recovering from reconstructive surgery that I had last week, where my plastic surgeon exchanged tissue expanders for implants. 

Tony and I started this blog soon after Peyton was born. She is starting Kindergarten this year (insert tears), and Matthew will be in second grade. So much has happened between then and now. Watching baby videos of both kids brought back so many happy memories. Memories of days when cancer was just a word. A word that had no connection to me, and BRCA-1 was just a mouthful of random letters. Today, that word and those letters will always be a huge part of my family history.

BRCA-1

The unwanted connection

Break the bond that is

-C. Nguyen

Cancer-versary

March 31st...the day came and went without a thought that exactly a year ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Of course, I couldn't get my mind off of it the days prior to March 31. How do I feel a year later, after having gone through some life changing moments? Where am I now in this whirlwind of events? Where is my life headed after this? I don't have any answers. I'm still confused and angry as to how this all happened to ME, cancer, of all things!

I vividly remember celebrating Easter with my brother and sister last year. We did it a week early because I had surgery the following week. We spent quality time with each other and really enjoyed ourselves. But it was awkward because everyone was scared about the future, yet no one wanted to talk about it. It was a very somber mood. Here we are, a year later. We thoroughly enjoyed Easter this year as well, but the mood was much lighter. I've successfully sailed through several major surgeries and six months of chemo. We are traveling downhill from here, friends. Several more radiation treatments, reconstruction, and a full hysterectomy is still in the near future, but the toughest parts are behind me.

My body has gone through a million and one things. Every time I look at a picture now, I relate it to either pre or post-cancer. Pre-cancer photos depict happier, simpler, worry-free times. Post-cancer photos seem pretentious, like there is some sort of a film covering it. Smiling as if everything is normal and okay again, when it truly isn't. Life will never be the same for me and I kind of hate that. I don't want to worry about this beast ever returning, but it's part of what I do now. Worry, stress, panic, freak out. The list is endless. My doctors and I are taking every extreme approach possible to prevent recurrence. But I still need a guarantee, which no one can give me.

By the way, radiation is going pretty well. Twelve down, thirteen more to go. My skin is starting to darken a little from the treatment. I'm crossing my fingers that the burn will be mild.

So, does one celebrate a cancer-versary? And if so, how? Perhaps not celebrate, but give notice to. Should I have a nice dinner? Watch a movie (does Game of Thrones count)? Reflect? Mope around and feel sorry for myself? Be happy that it's been a year and I'm still alive? Be upset that I even have a cancer-versary? Maybe get a tattoo to commemorate. I'm not too sure about what one does in such a situation.

But I do know that March 31 will never be forgotten. It will always be remembered as a Life Altering Day. Just like the birth days of my children and my wedding anniversary. It's a Life Altering Day. But of course not in a celebratory kind of way. Momentous, yes. Celebratory, no. It will be remembered as the stupid day that cancer entered my life. The day that Death briefly visited, but left because he knew it wasn't time.

Thank you all for following my journey with cancer through this blog and supporting me this past year. I am one lucky gal to have so many friends and family that not only celebrated the milestones with me, but also helped me power through the tough times. Lift off the film and smile like you mean it.

Deflated, Lopsided, and Flat

Blogger world, I think about you often. Very often. But I'm just too lazy to get on the computer and start writing. You know, these posts take me a really long time to draft. So much has been going on since the last update. I have a visit with my plastic surgeon today to deflate my right side, the non-cancerous side. Why you ask? Let's rewind a bit.

Since my last update, I was fully expanded on both sides. Then a week later, I had to deflate my left side to prepare for radiation. Now that was quite an experience. I was hooked up to a tube that led to a sucking machine on the wall. The machine was connected to a huge measuring cup. When the machine was turned on, the saline was sucked out of the expander and into the cup. The whole process took about 30 minutes and a total of almost 400 cc's was extracted. The end result was scary. I thought that my extra skin would just sag, but it didn't. My left foob (fake boob) was left to resemble a crater, with the outer edges being the expander. It isn't pretty. Now I'm completely lopsided and I have to stuff my bra to be somewhat even.

Fast forward to yesterday. I had my CT planning appointment, which is designed to set me up for radiation. Basically, it's a CAT scan of my chest wall to determine where the rays are going to hit each time I go for radiation. I would also leave with red marks and dots on my chest so they know where to put my tattoos at the next appointment. After I got the scan, I was told that my right side was interfering with the angle of the beams. Which means I have to deflate it. Seriously? Luckily, I already had a scheduled appointment with my plastic surgeon today that I didn't originally need, and they had a cancellation this afternoon for another CT planning. So I'm back on schedule. But still, seriously? You might be wondering, like Tony was, what happens if someone had a real boob that got in the way? Well, real boobs are squishy and when one lies down, they fall to the sides. A foob with expanders in them stays in the same exact position whether one is standing or lying down. They are hard as a rock and they don't move at all. I'm sure my plastic surgeon will be less than enthused about this dilemma, but I have no other options. On the brighter side, I don't have to stuff my bra anymore. Equally flat on both sides.

I've been on the fence about my hair lately. It's getting a little out of control, especially around the ears. When I wake up in the morning, it is a lot out of control. There are cowlicks everywhere. What should I do??? I'm so scared to get my first post chemo haircut. It still seems so short. I also want to color it something fun to fool people that I actually want my hair to look like this. As if it was cut short on purpose. Charlize Theron style. You know, the artsy type that I am totally NOT.

Nipple-Less

I've been MIA for a few weeks. Sorry about that. It's been about two and a half weeks since my surgery, and I am still not fully functional. I'm still taking pain meds 'round the clock. I've been reading a lot of blogs and forums about other women's experiences with their mastectomies. It seems like most women recover quickly and are in minimal pain. What is wrong with me?? I usually bounce back quickly from surgery, but this time, I got my butt kicked. Big time.

What I had was a bilateral mastectomy and immediate reconstruction. The surgeon removed both breasts, nipples and all, then inserted expanders under my muscle. He also put either 240 or 260 cc's of saline in each expander; I can't remember the exact amount. The purpose of the expander is to stretch the skin to the desirable size and then replace them with permanent silicone implants in the future. Each week, I go in for a fill. Last week was my first fill of 60 cc's in each side. I can't say that the procedure was painful; it was definitely uncomfortable though. However, the day following the fill, I was in excruciating pain and had to ask my oncologist for a stronger painkiller. The new drug I was prescribed is like a legal narcotic, and it really messed with my head so I stopped taking it.

My next fill is tomorrow and I am not looking forward to it at all. My skin is peeling from being stretched so much. I don't know how it's going to react to radiation in this condition. As the title of this post states, I am without nipples. It's sad to look at two rock hard mounds, each with a 3-4 inch lateral scar. I desperately want this whole journey to be over with. I'm tired of seeing doctors every week, and I'm tired of all the surgeries. I want my life back already!

The small syringe was used to numb the skin, and the big ones were used to inject saline into each expander.  And to think, some women get more than 60 cc's at each fill! Ouch!

It's been 3 1/2 months since my last chemo. When will my hair be long enough to style, so I don't look like a boy??

Bye-Bye, Bon Bons

That's what Peyton calls them. Bon bons. Twas the night before my double mastectomy and how do I feel? Anxious, mostly. Have I told you how much I hate getting an IV? Remember how the nurses laughed at me because they couldn't find my vein? Sleep has not been my friend these last few days. Last night, I dreamt that I was late to my surgery. No matter what I did, I just couldn't get there.

The one thing that is different about tomorrow's surgery is that I had time. I was only given one week notice for my lumpectomies. I had over a month's notice for this one. What does that mean? Time to plan, organize, clean, and above all, be anxious.

The kids have been asking about my surgery. I have no idea how to explain to them that my old bon bons were bad, so the doctor has to remove them and give me new ones. So, I just said that the doctor wants to make me all better. Of course, that is an unsatisfactory response for Matthew. Too simple of an answer. In his eyes and Peyton's as well, I'm not sick. Why visit the doctor when I'm not sick? Makes perfect sense, right? I love the innocent and untainted minds of children.

I'm glad that my surgery is at 7:30 am. Being the first case means the doctor can't run behind and make me wait. Because that would suck. Waiting sucks. I feel bad that Tony has to wait for the surgeon to come out and tell him that everything went fine. Then he has to wait until I wake up before they even let him see me.

Well, I have a big day ahead of me, and I still need to finish some laundry and pack for the hospital. New, cancer free bon bons, here I come!

 Enough hair to go hat-less in public? 

New Year, New Me

Wow, it's been awhile. I've thought about blogging so many times over the past few weeks, but I just haven't had the energy to do it. Now that the holidays are over, I need to get back on the wagon. Christmas was absolutely wonderful this year. So many unforgettable memories were made. When I was first diagnosed, I was deeply scared that this would be the last Christmas spent with my friends and family. My outlook on life has changed so much these past few months. I first went through shock, then denial, and finally acceptance. I'm learning to document my life with more photos, videos, and journaling. I don't want any special moments to be forgotten.

My double mastectomy is scheduled to be on January 18. I'm trying to prepare for it by organizing the house like crazy. Since my recovery will be at least 3 weeks, I want to make sure that things are in order. After my recovery, I will be getting radiation daily for 5 weeks. I anticipate being on medical leave for at least two months, which means I need to get my long term sub ready. Just another thing that I need to take care of. It is not easy to prepare a complete stranger to take over your classroom for a long period of time.

The plastic surgeon I met with came highly recommended by a friend of mine. He estimates that my whole reconstruction process will take about two years. Radiation complicates things because it ruins your skin. He says that he will need to use my latissimus dorsi muscle and skin from my back to help create new breasts. This will be in addition to implants. I was bummed that he couldn't use my stomach fat! I really do have excess tummy fat and skin, just not enough to make new breasts. Bummer. All of the additional surgeries will take place after radiation and after my skin has been fully expanded. A day after the mastectomy, I will leave the hospital with expanders and drains.

So the anticipation is building. I'm trying to keep busy to avoid freaking out about this whole thing. Because I am really freaking out. This is not my first surgery, but it's a major one that will leave my body deformed for awhile.

Since I'm typing in bed right now, it's too dark to take any pictures. I will post an updated one soon. Happy New Year, everyone! May 2013 be an amazing year full of love and happiness! 2012 sucked for me, so I'm looking forward to new beginnings!