And the survey says...

Blessings Report:
See above. Hallelujah!

Does this mean I am cured, in remission or any of the other terms used to describe someone in my situation? Short answer, no, but it means there is currently no evidence of metastatic disease, which is a very very good thing indeed. Scanxiety, you may take a back seat now, buh bye!

Ellen

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Cancer brings out the best in people

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

Thanks for the Mammaries

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

Isn't this a treat?

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

Keeping Abreast of Ellen

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