Skip to main content

Foreword (if I may be so)

By Ellen
So you've found my blog!  This both comforts and alarms me.  Comfort in knowing that friends and family can keep current on "this cancer thang".  Alarming in that so many eyes have suddenly turned towards me.  Those who know me well know that I am more of a wallflower; I prefer to sit back, watch and listen to others, diverting any and all attention away from myself (aside from the occasional, uncontrollable punny outburst).

Why then a public blog?  When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I was touched and torn by how many women have shared their cancer journeys through blogs.  They inspired me to, as my brother coined it, "take the bull by its horns".  I was, however, surprised at how few breast cancer diagnoses were made during or just following a pregnancy.  It became very evident that this particular niche was a small one, and one deserving of some attention.  And it occurred to me that there must be other newly diagnosed mums with newborns out there, feeling the same fears I am feeling, about to face the same challenges I am facing, searching for the same hope I have found. 

With that in mind, I welcome you to my blog.  My wish is that it may help you as much as the dear friends and family who are following it have already helped me.  After all, kegels and chemo, despite the nice ring, have no business being in the same sentence.  And no one has to go it alone.

Comments

  1. mom23greatkidsApril 23, 2012 at 2:57 AM

    Awesome, but not surprising, that you have managed to get this blog up and running, what with everything on your plate! Thank you for letting us take this journey with you....we are here for you, whenever you need us ( even if it's when we are half way across the world!).

    Lee

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Cancer brings out the best in people

By Ellen
Your eyes are likely scanning up to the post's title right about now.  Go ahead, give it another read.  Yes, that's the best, not the worst.  Many feel that Cancer brings out the worst in people - and I can certainly see why - but I have observed first-hand that it really does bring out the best in people too. Conversation with my 4-yr old today:  Me: "My oncologist told me yesterday that the chemo is working really well, and that the tumour is shrinking!  Mom's cancer is going away!" My 4-yr old: "Yay!  I'm so happy!  Now, what about your tummy?" Me: <confused> "My tummy hurts sometimes, but that's normal." My 4-yr old: "No Mom, I mean, what is she doing about your big tummy?  Can she make IT go away?" Me: <sigh> "Right, I'd forgotten all about my post-baby bulge.  Thanks, sweetie.  I'm afraid Mummy has to get rid of that herself". Many of you know that I took a huge leap last week
7 comments
Read more

Isn't this a treat?

By Ellen
Things are moving muito rapido, just how I like it! The plan is to attack the cancerous cells with chemotherapy in hopes of (1) shrinking the tumour to a more manageable size prior to surgery and (2) ridding my body of any "rogue" cancer cells that may be hiding out elsewhere.  I'm to have 8 cycles of chemo, each treatment spaced 3 weeks apart.  This will take approximately 6 months.  The puck drops tomorrow (Thursday).  Wish it were game 7 already instead of game 1 but I'm just happy to have made it to the playoffs.  After chemo cycles have wrapped up, I may require surgery and possibly radiation therapy, depending on how the tumour responds to the chemo.  Hopefully it will be game over for the cancer after all of that - I know I'll be glad to retire my cancer jersey! Side effects of my particular cocktail of chemo drugs MAY include, but are not limited to: 1. fatigue 2. nausea 3. hair loss (2-3 weeks after the first treatment) 4. the giggles
4 comments
Read more

Thanks for the Mammaries

By Ellen
In the four weeks since surgery I've had some time to perfect my response to the question which has been foremost on the minds of others: "What's it like to be down one breast?" (in actuality, the question posed has been the safer, more tactful, "How are you?") Although my response is sure to morph with time, I think it can best be summed up as follows:  Cancer got my breast, but it didn't get the breast of me.  Sure, my rogue breast took a hit for the rest of my body, but I am still here, I am still me, and I am still (in my own mind, anyway) a healthy woman in her late thirties.  Ok, very late thirties.  Oh, stop it!  You may be surprised to learn that my grieving happened long ago, just prior to and around the time of diagnosis, when all of the initial breast changes had already occurred.  Since that time, I have simply accepted that the tumour was too big to allow the breast to be salvaged.  Removing the breast meant removing the tumo
2 comments
Read more