Showing posts with label Breast Cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breast Cancer. Show all posts

Friday, January 1, 2010

Recovering


Last year, I went through the experience of a hysterectomy and I was blessed to have had my sister come and help me out during my recovery.  This past week I was able to return the favor since she had the same surgery two weeks ago.


As a woman, I find it so hard to submit myself to the care of others or to let people help me. When I had to do this in August of 2008 and then again two months later when I had a mastectomy due to breast cancer, I found myself struggling with being able to let people take care of me and help me with my responsibilities. 

This past week, I found it very interesting to find my sister in the same struggle. As I cared for her young children, tended to her needs, and cleaned her house she continued to feel guilty.  A feeling I know so well.

I would much rather be the one helping and taking care of someone, but it was a great learning lesson to be on the other side.  One of the things I learned was how to be better on the care giving side. Also, I realized that as much as I want to help others, others wanted to help me. It was my gift to them to let them.  Just as it was my sister's gift to me to let me take care of her.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

My Early Christmas Present

Christmas is two weeks away and I am reminded of last year about this time. I was recovering from breast cancer, and much too tired to put up Christmas decorations. Getting them up was one thing to be overwhelmed about let alone taking them down just a few weeks later.

This year, I find myself not far from the same feeling. Just so tired. Should I put up decorations or not. Maybe just the tree. Every day, I tell myself, maybe just the tree... Tomorrow....

After a long work week. Friday afternoon--cleaned. Saturday, time for groceries. I will go early, to beat the mad crowd shopping at Walmart. I leave my teenager son to his x-box games (Call of Duty, Halo, etc.) and my high school daughter still snuggled up with her Shitzu and asleep in bed. Hubby, most likely in the basement estimating yet another construction project.

Walmart is busier than I expected. I take a deep breath a prepare myself for the crowd. Two hours of foraging through the aisles and dodging people, families, stockers.

What the heck!!!! I do not understand why people have to bring the entire family to shop for groceries. The husbands trailing behind like they have been drugged and bribed to assist. Although, I see absolutely no assisting. The kids hanging from the basket and wandering back and forth across the aisle grabbing items as they ask, "can we get this?"

As I enter each and every aisle, I am required to strategize how to get to the other end. Groups, and I say groups of families. People going down the aisle on the wrong side of the street. All of them, all the while, oblivious to anyone else in the aisle or the possibility of anyone wanting to pass. I am baffled at how they can be so blind to everything else going on.

I am baffled, because I am completely aware of my surroundings trying to keep out of the way of some one else. Some of them even have their iPods plugged into their heads, so you can't even get their attention with a gentle, "excuse me".

Okay, people, can we establish some road rules? And, can we please integrate a diamond lane for people who have more than two people on board? Don't the rules of the road apply in store aisles as well.

After 2 hours in the trenches, I head for the check-out. Thanking my Father in Heaven for a lane with only one person of which is almost done checking out. As I load my heavy laden basket onto the belt, I spy the bottle of Captain Morgan's treat I grabbed myself and started to salivate at the though of popping the cap and taking a swig. I look at my watch. Soon, I tell myself. Soon!

Next, the trek out to the Walmart parking lot. Agh! Two hours in Walmart, followed by unloading the basket to the belt, followed by loading them back to the cart, followed by pushing the cart with all my might through the snowy parking lot, followed by unloading the cart to the car, followed by unloading the car to the house, followed by putting the groceries away, followed by cooking them! Sheesh, no wonder I don't have the energy to put up Christmas decorations! All I want to do is hit the couch with a little Captain Morgan's. I am about in tears.

Once in the house, I yell (okay, scream) to the kids to unload the car. Passing my daughter in the hall, she stares at me directly eye to eye. "WHAT?!" I ask. She looks past me. I turn, and there stands the Christmas Tree all lit up in its glory! In a split second, my hectic week, my hectic Walmart trip rushed away and I had a smile that made my lips burn.

THANKS KIDS, YOU'RE THE BEST!

Friday, June 26, 2009

Don't burn your bras...just yet.

I miss my Victoria Secret Ipex bras.

After learning about my diagnosis (invasive ductal carcinoma) and weighing all my options, I decided to go with a double mastectomy as my form of treatment. My mom beat breast cancer twice. It was kind of a no brainer for me. The surgeon thought I would be fine with a lumpectomy and radiation, but this is what went through my mind...
  • My mom got it. She treated it with lumpectomy and radiation.
  • My mom got it again. Same treatment.
  • I am relatively young (47 at the time)
  • My aunt got it young too (40).
  • My aunt's came back with a vengence.
  • It killed my aunt.
  • I have young kids (13 and 16)
  • I don't want it coming back
  • I don't want to have to deal with this again - or at least reduce my chances as much as possible

Once I made this decision there was no turning back and I experienced emotion after emotion.

  • Fear
  • Loss
  • Anger
  • Sadness
  • Lonliness

One of the things I did just a few days before my surgery was I rounded up all my Victoria Secret Ipex bras and threw them all in my bathtub. There was a pool of bras. I didn't realize how many I had. At least 15. Maybe more. My thought...they won't fit me again anyway. I donated them to my cousin who came from Illinois during my recover to help with my family. They didn't work for her, so she donated them to the women's shelter.

Now that all was said and done...my breast were removed, my breasts were reconstructed, I realized what a mistake I had made. I asked my plastic surgeon for a smaller size (I was a 36D in the Ipex) such as a 36C or even B.

I must have left two of my bras in the laundry somewhere because I still have two of my 36D Victoria Secret Ipex bras and they still fit perfectly. It was the only bra I could find that fit pre-mastectomy and now the only one that fits post-mastectomy. Great bra, great fit!! So now, the remorse I have for giving up my upwards toward $500 worth of lingerie is painful. The only consolation is that they were donated to a good cause. Too bad it was not my cause because now due to our financial situation I cannot afford to buy one of the Victoria Secret Ipex bras. Also, I think the particular style has been discontinued.

If you are ever in my situation, hang on to your bras. If you must, just pack them up in a box and store them in the attic, at least for a year. Then decide.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Getting it off my chest

On September 17th, 2008, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I am now a breast cancer survivor. I still can't get used to saying(writing) that. I was 47 (I'm 48 now) years old, with two teen age kids and it still makes me mad that I got it.

I am thankful for the fact that I was diagnosed early. I very easily could have put off getting my mammogram and then my story would be completely different. One month prior to my diagnosis I had a hysterectomy. I was in the hospital for two days and of course the recovery time and the follow up doctor visits and yadda, yadda, yadda. When the time rolled around for me to get my mammogram, I thought, "grrrr, I don't want to, I'm not in the mood for any more doctor visits. I think I will just wait or till next year". I reconsidered when I reminded myself that it was very important I go every year as recommended because my mom has fought breast cancer twice. She too is a survivor.


So, I decided I would just go. I mean how long does a mammogram take? Minutes. It's kinda like getting stamps or gas. You just do it cuz you have to and you're in and out. This time seemed different. I couldn't put my finger on it while I was in the waiting room. When I got to the exam room, I changed into the gown and sat and waited. This time I noticed the pictures of all the women who had gotten breast cancer. I never noticed that before. I started looking at their faces. Noticing how many looked my age or looked like they could have a similar life and lifestyle as me.


We went through the squish and squash. The technician left to be sure she got good shots. She gave me the thumbs up and I left. When I got home I had the curiousity to research what my odds might be that I would get it. I went to all the breast cancer sites I could google. I even took a questionairre. Two days later, I got a call. "We found something suspicious. We just need another, better picture. We get this a lot. Don't worry."


Okay, I won't worry. But, I had this feeling. Went in again. There were "suspicious spots" in both breasts. They were able to make one go away. If they are able to squish it out enough to shine light through, then that means it is nothing. Not so on the other one. The tech stood looking at it and said, "I usually can say for sure that it is nothing, but I can't with this". I knew what I was looking at. I had seen my mom's pictures. She told me she would send it in and they would call me in a day or two.


I waited.....Two days later, I got a call. "We want you to see a surgeon". I was in Herberger's department store when they called. My heart and my stomach dropped to my knees. All I could think was, "I need my mama. I have to call my mom."

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Hysterectomy

In August, 2008 I had a hysterectomy. One month later I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I wrote a poem about my hysterectomy. I will write in the future about my breast cancer and mastectomy. Maybe if I write a poem about that too it will help me get it off my chest.

Hysterectomy
by Lisa Culey

To my baby-maker
I bid farewell;
For you have provided me
Two kids that are swell.

Your leaving me now
Is a bittersweet;
Though your oven worked well,
Your pain – not a treat.

I look forward to days
Without PMS,
the bloating, the cramping,
the incontinence.

Thanks for the memories,
‘Tho cursed they may be;
They only remind me
That now I am free.
Aug. 4, 2008