Three Long Years Ago...

What a difference three years makes. This time three years ago I was bald, pregnant, and living with breast cancer treatments. For Halloween, I painted my 8-month belly as a turkey in honor of the due date of my baby girl. That year's Thanksgiving was especially well observed by my family and friends as we welcomed my baby girl, celebrated her daddy's birthday, were amazed at our survival of a breast cancer diagnosis at 20 weeks pregnant, as well as enjoyed usual Thanksgiving traditions.

Two years ago, I was recovering from an emergency hysterectomy precipitated by an abscess formed during my oophorectomy a month prior. The oophorectomy was a preemptive move to avoid ovarian cancer that so often goes along with BRCA1 breast cancer genes. I also had the honor of being blessed with the gift of the Right to Life of Owensboro's Life Award for my pro-life and pro-woman journey through breast cancer while pregnant. My children were well on their way to charming anyone within distance of the two year old boy and almost one year old girl.

One year ago, I was in a hospital in Houston, TX recovering from my third reconstructive surgery. This third surgery was one of my last steps to completely overcome the obstacle of my journey with breast cancer. I had my modified radical mastectomy when my daughter was about three months old. However, the second surgery, replacement of the expander implants with regular implants, had the unforeseen consequence of causing further pain. In an effort to recover from the pain, I chose to have the implants completely removed and use my own abdominal fat tissue to reconstruct my breasts. The surgery was long, difficult, and painful, but resolved some of the pain issues. Shortly before this surgery, I was again honored. This time the honor came from the Kentucky Cancer Program. Rachel and I were selected to be representatives of the Faces of Cancer photography series.

Five months ago, I had my last surgery (I hope and pray) connected to my breast cancer diagnosis. This last surgery gave (Dr) Adams (back) my first rib. Again, this surgery was a last-ditch effort to resolve the pain that hadn't loosened its grip on me since my mastectomy.  I had finally been diagnosed with something "treatable" instead of chronic idiopathic pain. Although Thoracic Outlet Syndrome isn't truly "curable" it is treatable with surgery, physical therapy, and time.

Just this past week, I had my four month check-up with my oncologist. He gave me an all-clear for another four months. Although no one really thinks I'll be diagnosed with cancer again, these appointments make me very nervous. That same day I also took the opportunity to peek through an open window as the door closes on another aspect of my life. 

In less than a month, my miracle baby will turn three. Time really does fly when you're having fun. Both of my children give me such joy and are so much fun that time with them seems truly fleeting. As my children blur in photographs, so too do the misfortunes that have faced me, my family, and my friends these past three years.

Since my diagnosis that fateful July day, I have tried to live my life as if each day is my last. I praise God for all the wonderful people He surrounded me with through this difficult time. He also gets many thanks for the blessings of my two very healthy (some might even say robust) children. My husband and I know that we are triply blessed to have three sets of very active grandparents to help us care for our babies. We also offer thanks for our joining our lives as one. Above all, each and every day is an opportunity to praise God for the most important gift of all: LIFE!

Another Breast Cancer "Awareness" Month

Its October again... Everything is swathed in pink. Please take the following as advice before you cover yourself in pink for the "cause"... Breast Cancer Awareness month is an euphemism for "Give us money so we can pay our salaries"! Forgive me if I sound bitter or snide, but I was diagnosed at 28 years old and 20 weeks pregnant and Komen, American Cancer Society, and most (if not all) big name "Awareness" groups offered me two choices when I was diagnosed: 1) hope that I didn't die before I had my baby without treatment or 2) kill my baby to seek treatment. However, MD Anderson had (has) been doing chemo on pregnant women for more than 20 years with better results than on similar post-abortive mothers. No thanks to those big-name organizations, not only did I survive, but also my almost 3 year old daughter survived as well! We are the fifth and sixth generation of survivors, but only the last three of us actually survived (my mother is now a 7 year survivor, but her mother died at 58 and her grandmother and great grandmother died in their 40s).

How did those big organizations "support" me in my time of need? How do those big name organizations further the "cure" by not only killing future generations but also condemning those women who fall for their lies to worse survival rates? Who gains by the continued denials of links or causation of breast cancer by hormonal contraceptives and abortions? Where's the "cure" there. "Awareness" means less than nothing if erring on the side of caution (for instance publicly admitting possible links/causation between hormonal contraceptives and abortions and breast cancer -- and other cancers). It should be called "Brea$t Cancer Awarene$$" because all it does is line the pockets of the organizers while presenting false hope to victims and supporters!

Even if the scientific link between abortion and hormonal contraceptives is weak (it isn't), women deserve to be told the WHOLE truth about these "necessary" parts of "reproductive rights". For instance, the link between BPA and the ills it causes aren't much (if any) stronger than the links between hormonal contraceptives and breast cancer, yet everyone avoids BPA to err on the side of caution (http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/20945454 ). To be perfectly honest, I actually didn't realize until looking at the journal articles while writing this post, that the type of carcinogenic chemical of BPA is actually VERY similar to hormonal contraceptives (estradiol, estratone, estrogen-like chemicals). Why shouldn't the big organizations advocate the same type of caution for abortion and hormonal contraceptives? The WHO (World Health Organization) has ranked contraceptives as Level 1 carcinogens (http://www.who.int/reproductivehealth/publications/ageing/cocs_hrt_statement.pdf ). If the purpose of these organizations was truly to reduce breast cancer (and other cancers) wouldn't they advise women to avoid hormonal contraceptives? Instead, the supposed "benefits" of these "reproductive rights" are said to "outweigh" the risks... As a survivor, if I thought there was something I could do that was completely choice oriented to prevent my daughter from getting breast cancer, you'd better believe I'd do everything in my power to see that she made the right choice!

Where's the benefit of that type of false "awareness"? T-shirts, bumper stickers, etc with cutesy "Feel your Boobies" or "Save the Tatas" slogans* don't actually further the cause of finding a cure or providing real life support for victims. Instead all they do is demean the victims of this horrible disease. Don't get me wrong, I own a few t-shirts with similar slogans, but I AM a survivor. Plus, most of them (except the "Fight like a Girl" one) were given to me by friends in an effort to lift my spirits by letting me know they were supporting me in my struggle. The friends who gave me those t-shirts didn't just plunk down $20 for a shirt and consider themselves supporting me in my struggle. No, they actually DID things to help me: sent notes of care/support, listened while I cried or whined, helped me with a real task in life, prayed for me, spoke to me of courage and strength, etc. The t-shirt was just the physical and remaining reminder that they DID something that actually helped me--even if it was just emotional or mental help. That is the way true supporters can lend a hand to victims of this horrible disease.

Some of the newer more popular slogans are actually innuendos that over-sexualize the disease and body parts involved. The "boobies" I lost during my mastectomy weren't playthings or frivolous slightly naughty bits--they were nutrition for my son for his first year of life. They were a visible representation of my gender. Sadly, they were also linked, in ways I did not and still do not understand, to my self esteem and self image. Yes, I can laugh about cutting them off because they were trying to kill me, but you don't know the feelings I hide behind that laugh. I have numerous very real physical scars from the three surgeries to remove and "replace" those body parts, but worse than the physical scars are the emotional ones that no one--not even other survivors necessarily--can understand. Every women (or man, since they get breast cancer too) has different breasts, and her "relationship" (for lack of a better

word) is unique to her, so her response to these traitorous body parts and the subsequent removal or alteration of them is different too. Often, women are evaluated by their breasts because we live in a highly sexualized world. So losing or altering this most visible sign of womanhood can be highly traumatic. It's really only something some of us laugh about because the alternative is crying. When you add the other losses (loss of ovaries, tubes, uterus, cervix, etc) some of us face because of related cancers, the emotional toll rises and hearing or seeing such jocular interpretations of our loss(es) can be devastating.

If you're aware of breast cancer and want to help 1) find a struggling victim in your neighborhood or area to support, 2) thoroughly research any organization BEFORE donating, 3) don't play meaningless "games" for awareness sake, 4) open your eyes to the truth of breast cancer (and other cancers) and let others know it, and/or 5) pray for a cure, better survivability, and more real world support for victims. Those are things that really help real people who are victims!

*I don't mean to pick on just these two slogans, but they were the first ones to come to mind... I have no affiliation or hatred of any of these slogans except as explained above. If it makes you feel better about yourself, by all means wear or buy products with these types of slogans on them. However, don't expect me (or other victims/survivors) to appreciate it if that's all you do.

This post seen first at www.CatholicSistas.com

Changes

I'm not feeling very well right now, so be forewarned, this isn't going to be a cheerful post. :-/

As I looked at myself in the mirror this morning and again tonight, my appearance (to me) is sadly lacking. I'm not talking about the "wings" I still have from my "tummy-tuck-boob-job reconstruction" or the significantly smaller breasts that resulted from that surgery. I'm not talking about the years (I feel) that have aged my face. I'm talking about the fact that washing my not-even-shoulder-length hair is a task I leave until absolutely necessary. I'm talking about the dresses I wear so the pain of my abdominal scar doesn't get too bad to bear. I'm talking about the swelling above my left collar-bone from my most recent surgery. I'm talking about the exhaustion in my eyes from fighting day in and day out to regain normalcy. Then, just under the surface, lies the nearly chronically upset stomach (caused by stress) and the tension in my shoulders, neck, and back. 

Most people don't see any of the above as significant. They see that I present myself to the best of my ability and either think I lack style, class, or care; or they don't even notice the deficiencies I mentioned. When I'm feeling low, as I am now, it's so difficult for me to see past my struggles, As much as I don't want pity, I do wish for understanding. There are some in my life who deny that my life hasn't returned to normal. There are others that sincerely support me through the good and bad, I thank God daily for those in the second group as I dread my interactions with those in the first group. 

There, my whining session is over. Sorry... Please return to your regular state of mind. Pay no attention to the woman behind these words. God bless! 

Blast from the Past

This afternoon on my commute home, I was listening to a random WMA playlist I created in 2005. At the time I was 4 years out from losing my best friend and fiancé to metastatic melanoma (July 23, 2001 -- RIP). I had been out of school for 2 years and had my current job for about a year. I had yet to meet my husband. The songs I chose for this playlist seem completely random; I've got Incubus, Nickelback, and Default playing right after Faith Hill, SheDaisy, and Rascal Flatts, then I've got the Beatles and Creed playing after Allison Kraus and Nickel Creek. Yet, when I listen to the music in this seemingly random playlist, I return to some of the emotions I struggled with during those times. Honestly, the emotions I'm struggling with now are pretty similar. Then, as now, the words of Creed's Six Feet from the Edge keep reverberating through my mind, "Now that its over, reflecting on all of my mistakes, I thought I found the road to somewhere, somewhere in His grace. I cried out, 'Heaven save me,' but I'm down to one last breath, and with it let me say, let me say... Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking, 'maybe six feet ain't so far down'."

In 2005, like now, from the outside everything seemed normal. Strangers and aquantances saw a young woman going through life with a smile. True friends and family saw that behind the smile lurk tears of loss, sadness, despair, and insecurity. Physically I looked fairly well put together. I still eschew make-up for the most part. My hair was even similarly styled, which is to say unstyled. The 7 years since I arranged that playlist have been filled with momentous changes: marriage to my new best friend, my mom's cancer diagnosis, creation of 6 souls (even though only 2 made it to birth), my cancer diagnosis and subsequent fight for a healthy body. Yet, here I am, fighting the same inner demons I thought I'd vanquished.

Then, I was still reeling from my fiance's death even though the general population thought I'd grieved enough. Now, I'm still reeling from the loss of my relatively healthy body even though the general population thinks I'm "cured". The general opinion that I should be further along in my recovery never ceases to erode my self-confidence--just as it did then. However, when I parked my car in my driveway this afternoon, the biggest differences in then verses now were dancing on my back porch: Andrew, Simon, and Rachel. Earlier this evening, as Andrew hugged me as I silently wept, first Rachel, and then Simon climbed into our arms. With two active, healthy, and compassionate children like them, there is no time to wallow in tears. Even though my life is still in tatters, watching my two children interact with one another and us weaves the fabric of my life back into one piece. Oh, the mended places are still weak and prone to tears, but the overall effect is one of wholeness. Combining the theraputic effect of my children and husband with the graces from my Father in Heaven is the only way I'm able to continue on mending my tattered life time and time again.

To me it seems as though I'm constantly begging for your prayers and intercession for the bombshells that shred the tapestry of my life. I feel like a whiner and drama-queen at times because it seems as though there is *always* something devastating to me. When others tell me I'm strong, an inspiration, or some-such, the bleakness in my mind doesn't receive the soothing effects of the words. All I see is that once again, I'm humbled to have to beg for more prayers for the seemingly endless string of catastrophes in my life. I don't see strength in my actions, I only see that I have two choices: to completely give up or to continue to fight even though I am weak. I don't see the inspiration in my struggles because I know that at times I ask God to just release me from my prison. Yet, deep down, I know that God and you are pulling for me. Even when all I see are the solid bars of my prison, you ask God to light me from above, and He does. Oh, sometimes I don't see the light because I'm too busy closing my eyes to fight the darkness. Eventually, I open my eyes and see a new day where the bars of my prison turn into a ladder out of the depths of despair. This wouldn't be possible without intercession from you here on earth, the Saints in Heaven, and God's will. So here I am, asking for your intercession once again... Please hold me in your thoughts an prayers because I know that is how I've made it this long. Thank you!

Under My Smile

The last three years have been doozies. From recovering from a life-threatening miscarriage to conceiving again within a month... From waiting to pass the first magic 12 weeks of pregnancy to being diagnosed with breast cancer at 20 weeks... From the mind-numbing terror of the unknown as I embarked on my miracle journey to treat my cancer while maintaining my pregnancy to delivering a healthy baby girl... From beginning new chemotherapy to cutting it short due to an allergic reaction... From my mastectomy to my ill-fated oophorectomy... From my ill-fated reconstruction to my journey through pain management... From my final reconstruction to a diagnosis of brachial plexopathy... From a diagnosis of thoracic outlet syndrome to surgery to correct it... From my daily struggle to deal with the pain associated to continued physical therapy. The list goes on and on. 

At each juncture, I've wondered if I was strong enough to continue. In the back of my mind is always that frightened child who clings to safety, but publicly displays strength and even humor at life's twists and turns. At times, I let the frightened child express herself through this blog, on the shoulder of my dear husband, at the bosom of my mother, or in the dark during my prayers. There have been countless instances of asking myself whether I'm capable of going on. In these dark moments I try to cling to the Light that is God. Yet sometimes, the darkness is so overwhelming that I can't find the light. Sometimes the voices of others around me drag me into the depths of despair by casting doubts upon me.

This last is, without a doubt, the most difficult hurdle I face. When others cast aspersions upon me, the choices I've had to make, the realities of my every day life, and the tiny fraction of my life they know about. At this point, it doesn't take much to make me doubt myself. Honestly, it has never taken much, but as I struggle with finding the Light in the darkness around me, the smallest doubt can cast me into the depths of despair. There are undoubtably those who think my journey has been too long, too public, and too improbable. These are the ones who hurt me the most -- especially when they're in the guise of people I respected and liked. It is an utter betrayal to go from wishing me well to constant questioning. When a pat on the back is really a feel for the softest place to twist the knife, the anticipation is palpable. 

Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong. How should I have presented this journey to let outsiders know the truth? Did I make light of my struggles too often? Do I appear too "healthy" to be dealing with my situation? Am I too happy to have such a situation? When I make the best of my situation do I appear to be lying about my struggles? Is it possible for someone who has never experienced this type of journey to understand my journey? In dealing with some of these outsiders, I have run the gamut of discussing in-depth each step to very brief updates on a need to know basis. I am still questioned and suspected of wrong-doing regardless of the tact I take. When this is all over, I hope to be able to ask, "When did your perspective of my situation change from compassionate to suspicious? What did I do, or not do, that tipped the scales against me? Was this ending inevitable from the start, or was there a turning point I was unaware of?" Every time I think I've found peace with my situation, the knife is twisted a little bit more. Every time I think I'm handing things well, something will happen and the rules will change. I wish I had the rule-book, so I could follow it... That's what I'm good at, being pedantic: following rules. 

There are many things I would like to wish away. Some things I wish for aren't even that big of a deal, but have changed my life dramatically. For instance, after my last reconstruction, I gained a huge scar around my waist. The feeling in this area is a strange mix of numbness, tightness, pain, and just plain old irritation. This isn't life-threatening, but it has been life altering because now I find myself wearing dresses almost exclusively. While I admit that wearing dresses in the 100 degrees or more heat of summer is cooler than shorts or capris, dresses have never been my first choice as my wardrobe. Yet, the feeling of pants around my waist combined with the difficulty of using my bad arm to pull them up has necessitated the wardrobe change. On the surface, it looks as if I just chose to change my style. In reality, I have a closet full of clothing I can't stand to wear because I can't stand the sensations and difficulties of wearing them. 

Again, I choose to describe an outward sign of my struggle instead of delving into the inner scars that hurt far more. Describing the inner scars takes more courage than I have. Putting those inner scars on display leaves me much more vulnerable to further cutting words and misunderstandings. It would also make them more real and undeniable. When I look at myself I see all the visible scars, but it is really the inner scars that are invisible that cause the most pain and agony. But to enumerate them and describe them would put faces to them to haunt me further. There is no aspect of my life that my journey has not touched. 

O Master, grant that I may never seek so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love with all my soul. ~ the song of St Francis

Although I do wish to be consoled, understood, and loved, I put all this out in the cyber world so that others may identify with these struggles and feel that they have a partner in their own journey. It is in living this struggle that I hope others can find the strength within themselves to live through their struggles. 

Without the burden of afflictions it is impossible to reach the height of grace. The gift of grace increases as the struggle increases. ~ St Rose of Lima

I wish...

I'm coming up on my three year cancer-versary and although I can happily say I'm cancer-free, I can't say that I'm healed. Sometimes I honestly look at my life now compared to my life before cancer and wonder if treating my cancer was worth it. The chemo and first surgery were cake-walks compared to what I still face. Then Rachel walks up to me with her chocolate drop eyes and sweet lispy voice to say, "I love you." Simon, not one to be out-done, comes over too with similar chocolate drop eyes and clear voice to say he loves me too. Andrew will glance over and give me a half smile -- a wordless way of letting me know he loves me too. They are the reason I am still fighting so hard. Without them I don't know what I'd be. All I know is that they give me the strength to continue fighting this seemingly endless battle. 

I feel so vulnerable sharing here, knowing that there are some in my audience who pass judgement on me. There are those who think I exploit my cancer-while-pregnant-at-28 years old. There are those who think that I look basically like I did before my diagnosis, so what's the big deal? There are those that see how well I cope with the aftermath, but don't realize I'm coping. There are those that think I've become used to staying home, but don't really need the time I take. There are those who think I've taken advantage of them and short-changed my obligation to them. These people see the photos I post, the smiles I force, the fun stories I tell, and the much abbreviated explanations of my continuing issues. Instead of asking for clarification, they'd rather talk behind my back and conspire against me. Instead of giving me compassion and the benefit of the doubt, they ignore medical facts presented to them and label me unwilling. I should know by now that nothing I say, do, or write will ever change their opinion. Yet, I continue to struggle not only medically, but also with these people for my sanity, life, and family. 

I'm so frightened of change. I wish I could just face my detractors to say, "Take your ignorance and keep it." Instead I lower my head to plod onward. I push myself until the pain is too great. I do my physical therapy as I continue through the day, just to prove my detractors wrong and to try to get a couple more useful hours out of the day. I force a smile when I feel like crying in frustration and pain. I've been told repeatedly to leave my troubles at home. I've also been told to be the best me I can be, detractors be ignored. I try, I really do, but deep down I am a soft-hearted, obstinate, honest, sincere, hard-working, try-my-best, people-pleasing kind of person. I can no more leave my troubles at home than I can leave my left arm (which would be awesome). So I'm left in a quandary... Who do I please, displease, or just ignore? 

There are times like now that I wish I were a stronger person. I wish I could exert my will and say the heck with everyone else. I wish I could cry in front of those who doubt my sincerity when the pain is too great. I wish I could fully express the agony I go through on a daily basis. I wish I could take the easy route and not feel guilty for giving up. I wish I could turn back the clock and leave this part of my life out of the equation. As the old saying goes, "If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride." I'm definitely not riding.

I am who I am, how I am, what I am, and where I am for a reason. I just wish I knew what that reason was. Thank you for 'listening'. God bless you and prevent you from experiencing even a small portion of what I have. 

I wish...

I'm coming up on my three year cancer-versary and although I can happily say I'm cancer-free, I can't say that I'm healed. Sometimes I honestly look at my life now compared to my life before cancer and wonder if treating my cancer was worth it. The chemo and first surgery were cake-walks compared to what I still face. Then Rachel walks up to me with her chocolate drop eyes and sweet lispy voice to say, "I love you." Simon, not one to be out-done, comes over too with similar chocolate drop eyes and clear voice to say he loves me too. Andrew will glance over and give me a half smile -- a wordless way of letting me know he loves me too. They are the reason I am still fighting so hard. Without them I don't know what I'd be. All I know is that they give me the strength to continue fighting this seemingly endless battle. 

I feel so vulnerable sharing here, knowing that there are some in my audience who pass judgement on me. There are those who think I exploit my cancer-while-pregnant-at-28 years old. There are those who think that I look basically like I did before my diagnosis, so what's the big deal? There are those that see how well I cope with the aftermath, but don't realize I'm coping. There are those that think I've become used to staying home, but don't really need the time I take. There are those who think I've taken advantage of them and short-changed my obligation to them. These people see the photos I post, the smiles I force, the fun stories I tell, and the much abbreviated explanations of my continuing issues. Instead of asking for clarification, they'd rather talk behind my back and conspire against me. Instead of giving me compassion and the benefit of the doubt, they ignore medical facts presented to them and label me unwilling. I should know by now that nothing I say, do, or write will ever change their opinion. Yet, I continue to struggle not only medically, but also with these people for my sanity, life, and family. 

I'm so frightened of change. I wish I could just face my detractors to say, "Take your ignorance and keep it." Instead I lower my head to plod onward. I push myself until the pain is too great. I do my physical therapy as I continue through the day, just to prove my detractors wrong and to try to get a couple more useful hours out of the day. I force a smile when I feel like crying in frustration and pain. I've been told repeatedly to leave my troubles at home. I've also been told to be the best me I can be, detractors be ignored. I try, I really do, but deep down I am a soft-hearted, obstinate, honest, sincere, hard-working, try-my-best, people-pleasing kind of person. I can no more leave my troubles at home than I can leave my left arm (which would be awesome). So I'm left in a quandary... Who do I please, displease, or just ignore? 

There are times like now that I wish I were a stronger person. I wish I could exert my will and say the heck with everyone else. I wish I could cry in front of those who doubt my sincerity when the pain is too great. I wish I could fully express the agony I go through on a daily basis. I wish I could take the easy route and not feel guilty for giving up. I wish I could turn back the clock and leave this part of my life out of the equation. As the old saying goes, "If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride." I'm definitely not riding.

I am who I am, how I am, what I am, and where I am for a reason. I just wish I knew what that reason was. Thank you for 'listening'. God bless you and prevent you from experiencing even a small portion of what I have. 

Gentle Improvements

Thankfully, today has been a better day. With medication every 4 ih ours (and not a second longer), my pain has finally gotten under control. The antibiotic must have packed quite a punch, because the pain I had while breathing is almost entirely gone. It is such a relief to be able to take a semi-deep breath again, although coughing, sneezing, or hiccups are still incredibly painful. Apparently, there is something in the back of my mind that's bothering me... Twice today I ended up re-organizing cabinets. I tend to do that when I have some niggling worry in the back of my mind. Obviously the benefits of such a compulsion (and that is exactly what it is) is wonderful. However, with one arm supposedly "resting" the detriment is costly. 

Physically, I can tell I'm improving, but I can also tell that I still have a long way to go. For instance, after having a decent morning with the kids and my parents, I had to go home and lay down for a nap. I don't usually nap at all, much less for 3 hours in the middle if the day! Then there's also this nagging sharp pain right under my left shoulder blade. Not matter how I try to gently stretch the affected area, I can't get any relief. Just an hour ago or so I suddenly hit some invisible wall. All the sudden I felt vilely ill for no reason I could imagine. Thankfully that has passed. I didn't ice my neck today, out of laziness, I guess. My mother- and father-in-law came over and could see the ugly swelling. I think my father-in-law was slightly disappointed that I didn't get to keep my rib to let him see/have. He did comment that "it's about time" women gave a rib back to Adam. I corrected him and said I gave mine to Adams, Dr. Adams! 

I am incredibly thankful to have learned so many physical therapy exercises for my arms and shoulders. Daily, I put them to practice, even when I'm in pain to to to relieve any pain caused by tight nerves, muscles, or misplaced joints. I'm also eternally grateful to have my parents, and Andrew's parents, so close. Being next door, my parents are available at all hours to take the kids should something unforeseen occur. It is also a tremendous blessing for me to be so emotionally as well as physically close to my parents. Sharing day-to-day struggles and successes, a glass of wine or low-ball of whiskey, the Eucharistic meal, the glories of gardening, and the laughter in comfortable harmony is something I don't think all people know to enjoy. Of course, Andrew likes to make snide comments about not enjoying the benefits of being next door to his in-laws, but it's all bluster... He secretly loves it.

I'm definitely no anatomical artist, but this is a bird's eye view of the important body parts of mine. Enjoy!

A Bad Day...

It has been a long, painful, strange trip today. I began by tossing my cookies (actually popcorn) on and off all night last night. By 4 am, I was so exhausted and ill-feeling that I slept upright on the floor with my head on the counter. I couldn't mov my entire body, but especially my neck, head, and arms. I finally found the energy to clean myself of all the sickness around 6 am. 

Typically, I avoid the hospital emergency room like the plague. However, I was so sick snd in severe pain that I begged Andrew to take me to the ER at 7 am (Saturday May 19, 2012). I slowly walked into the empty waiting room, while Andrew had to go through the metal detector and have our bags inspected. For some unknown reason it still took 15-20 minutes for them to triage me. That is reason #1 I typically avoid this particular ER. I slowly plodded to an Acute Care room where it was about an hour before anyone came to speak with me or begin testing or treatment (reason #2). 

As I gave the nurses and doctors the run down of my symptoms, they said nothing useful nor did they ask questions. I had a low-grade fever at home (99.8), but "normal" temperatures when they checked. My head, neck, left arm, and entire left rib cage felt as if I'd been beaten. I couldn't move without tremendous painful. Although I hadn't had any pain medication since 4 am, I'm sure I looked stoned. Breathing was terribly painful and my heart rate was a racing 116 bpm. Yet, I journey keep my eyes open.

After I was settled in Acute Care, another couple of patients arrived. The portable chest x-ray machine was rolled up the hall, but skipped me, instead I was wheeled to the actual x-ray room and forced to place my arms above my head, regardless of the intense pain of that position. I mean, geez, I just had my first rib removed! That accounts for reason #3, this ER is completed inconsiderate of pain generated by your complaints. After the chest x-ray, I was in my room for another hour or so with no interaction with my care team. 

Finally, a different technician came to get me for a chest CT. Once again, I was forced to keep my right hand completely extended above my head. This radiologist tried to help with my left arm, but no matter ow she tried, I had to have it extended somewhat above my head, when it came time for the dye to enter my IV site, I had to tell the radiologist of the decreased blood flow in my right side as well. Her solution was for me to hike my hand up at a 90 degree angle t my body with the elbow straight. Still quite painful and difficult for me.

Another 30 minutes or so and the doctor came back into my room. He explained that I ha a bit of infrnpftion in my lung, he didn't specify any more than that. He was very polite in my obvious agony, but kept lightly slapping my right (good) shoulder and arm to emphasize his points. He explained that as a cancer survivor, the follow-up care for me is slightly more detailed than a non-cancer survivor. I have to follow up in a week or so (when the antibiotic is finished) with another chest x-ray or CT. He also told me he'd give me stronger pain medication and an antibiotic. A little while later, a nurse came in it a bag of antibiotic for my IV and some morphine for the pain. The sad thing was, even at a fairly high dose, the morphine didn't take a significant portion of the pain away. Once the IV antibiotic completed its dose, I was released. We had been in the ER for 5 hours -- reason #4.  

We had to go to the pharmacy, plus we needed some things (milk especially), so we went to Kroger. Once there I sat in one of the handicap carts and drove though the store. Due to the nature of the store and the unaccustomed width of the cart, I knocked an entire display onto the floor. Andrew had to pick it all up, I drove that thing for a wile until (very shortly after beginning my ride) it quit on me. I'd turn the key off and then turn it back onl it's while sometime stop instantly, or sometime later. It was very frustrating because I kept being in people's way, I eventually had to walk through the store nstead of riding, I met one of the nhe from Dr. A's office. I spoke to her for a while; she's very nice. Finally we were able to go home. I immediately settled in my recliner and took my ain medication and antibiotic. For a while I was feeling better, but it's a fleeting experience, that's all I can mamage right now. My apologies for any typos or crazy talk. I'm not feeling very goo right now, please keep praying for me! I desperately need all the help I can get! 

Eliminate Abortions to Decrease Breast Cancer

Don't want breast cancer? Don't have abortions! A new study from China indicates that abortion increases precast cancer risk by at least 1.55 times the normal rate. This is just one epidemiological study out of 53 that show a link between breast cancer and abortion! The Coalition on Abortion-Breast cancer has found 69 studies about the link, with 53 of them showing increased risk. This most recent Chinese study may actually even understate the significant risk due to most Chinese abortions happen after one child. One live birth/full term pregnancy matures up to 85% of breast tissue past susceptibility to cancer. Women who abort once (or even worse multiple times) before a live/full term pregnancy may have an even more significant breast cancer risk increase with each abortion.

This just furthers the reasons for abortion to not only be rare, but actually impossible. If breast cancer organizations really want to prevent breast cancer, they would be vehemently opposed to abortions. Sadly this isn't the case. If women's health was truly the goal of all these organizations, they would never partner or support an organization that performs or recommends abortions. Sadly, women's health seems to be a distant last place finish behind convenience and instant gratification. 

Please pray for abortion workers, people who have had or helped another get an abortion, for the victims of abortion, for those trying to save women and their children. All things are possible with God, so let us ask for His help in our fight for Life!

Attack of the Killer Adhesives

Attack of the killer adhesive still strikes... The left side of my neck and chest has swollen up considerably. I also have red marks from all the various adhesive patches they had on me. I had to call Dr A to be sure this wasn't something that needing a hospital visit. He said that since the area he operated on has a lot of lymph nodes and vessels in it, swelling can happen. If it gets worse or cuts of more of my breathing, then I have to go in. I've put ice on it for quite some time and it went down some. Thanks for the thoughts and prayers! Keep them coming if you don't mind.

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Onward and Homeward

Dr Adams has already been in too see me. He said he took about 4-5 inches of my rib out. His physicians assistant said that one of the nerves leading down my arm was right in their way during surgery. He told me that made him glad Dr Adams was performing the surgery. Dr Adams told me I had a lot of scar tissue in the facia in that area too. He supposedly removed or broke it all though. His PA took my drain out too! Dr Adams said the sling im wearing is mostly just to keep my arm still for a couple days. He also said I could go home now!

I just finished a bit of breakfast. I'm hoping I don't lose it later to my post anesthesia nausea/vomiting. I'm a bit queasy now, but nothing like I was after my last surgery. Right now my pain level has eased done to the 5-6 range. My IV is actually hurting worse than my arm right now. I walked around the floor yesterday all by myself! The nurse is getting ready to start my paper work to go home. Yippee!

I'm alive, but Ribless and Painful

I'm alive. A "hand-grenade" drain, a sling, an IV in my elbow and foot, blood pressure cuff on my other ankle, and missing about 5"9; my first rib, I dnt remember talking to the doctor yet. I'm staying overnight. My nursing assistant is a blast from the past. Andrew brought me a cherry coke! Pain level about a 7. Hoping for better soon! Thanks for the prayers, keep them up please!

Adams Rib Before Breakfast

Giving My Rib to Adams

We all know the biblical story of God creating Eve from Adam's rib (Genesis 2:21-22). Well, today I am giving my rib to Adams, Dr. Adams. It sounds weird, but in order to hopefully correct my Thoracic Outlet Syndrome (TOS) numbness, tingling, burning, pain, loss of circulation, etc down my left (and to a lesser extent, right) arm, my first rib must be removed. TOS (also called brachial plexopathy) is actually common in breast cancer patients. Often patients aren't diagnosed with TOS, but instead "frozen shoulder", for which the first-line treatment is the same: physical therapy. However, in cases like mine, physical therapy helps, but does not entirely eliminate the symptoms of TOS. In addition, my symptoms are of a more troubling sort since there is not only nerve damage and pain present, but also loss of arterial blood-flow. 

Unfortunately, much like cancer during pregnancy, TOS (and even "frozen shoulder") is not typically discussed or diagnosed. It has taken me almost two years to get a definitive diagnosis and reasonable treatment plan for what ails me. I've had major surgery (my last reconstruction) out of desperation because of this pain. When I continued to have pain, I sought the specialists in physical medicine, who recommended physical therapy and the utterly painful EMG. After six months of physical therapy, I find myself again going under the knife. 

I am so very nervous. I didn't sleep a wink last night. Even though this is one of the more minor surgeries I have had to date, for some reason it is more frightening. I'm very concerned that it may not work. I am also very concerned that it may actually make my arms worse. I pray that I am wrong. 

Giving My Rib to Adams

We all know the biblical story of God creating Eve from Adam's rib (Genesis 2:21-22). Well, today I am giving my rib to Adams, Dr. Adams. It sounds weird, but in order to hopefully correct my Thoracic Outlet Syndrome (TOS) numbness, tingling, burning, pain, loss of circulation, etc down my left (and to a lesser extent, right) arm, my first rib must be removed. TOS (also called brachial plexopathy) is actually common in breast cancer patients. Often patients aren't diagnosed with TOS, but instead "frozen shoulder", for which the first-line treatment is the same: physical therapy. However, in cases like mine, physical therapy helps, but does not entirely eliminate the symptoms of TOS. In addition, my symptoms are of a more troubling sort since there is not only nerve damage and pain present, but also loss of arterial blood-flow.

Unfortunately, much like cancer during pregnancy, TOS (and even "frozen shoulder") is not typically discussed or diagnosed. It has taken me almost two years to get a definitive diagnosis and reasonable treatment plan for what ails me. I've had major surgery (my last reconstruction) out of desperation because of this pain. When I continued to have pain, I sought the specialists in physical medicine, who recommended physical therapy and the utterly painful EMG. After six months of physical therapy, I find myself again going under the knife.

Not Either-Or, Both Can Live

It breaks my heart that women are basically coerced into pitting their lives against their unborn children's lives. There are many articles, some so recent the abstracts (medical journal summaries) aren't available yet, that prove that cancer during pregnancy is not an either-or situation. Both mother and child CAN live with no change to prognosis in most (if not all) instances. It is a crime for doctors to ignore this information. No woman should be coerced into what amounts to an abortion for any reason. But the blow is even more harsh when the mother is also a victim of cancer! This blow Hs struck me even more harshly right now so close to Mother's Day with an information and prayer request from a FB friend.

I'm going to put some links below with brief summaries of the main points. You'll have to excuse my non-hypertext links, but I'm working with an iPad app...

*This is the best overall article I've found. It is written for the cancer patient and care-givers, not doctors and scientists.
http://www.cancernetwork.com/gynecologic-cancer/content/article/10165/2031260?CID=rss

*This article is kind of a dry medical article, but the conclusion is that even delaying treatment until delivery does not negatively affect the overall prognosis of the mother. In other words, terminating the pregnancy is NOT necessary.
http://www.cancer.net/patient/Coping/Emotional+and+Physical+Matters/Sexual+and+Reproductive+Health/Pregnancy+and+Cancer

*This article indicates that the worst consequence of a cancer diagnosis during pregnancy -- death of the newborn baby -- is actually usually caused by the doctors forcing delivery too soon.
http://journals.lww.com/ijgc/Abstract/2011/08000/Management_of_Cancer_During_Pregnancy__Obstetric.30.aspx

*This article addresses my situation: a breast cancer diagnosis while pregnant. It blatantly says that there is no need for the life of the mother to be at odds against the life of the unborn child.
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22308513

*This article addresses cervical cancer that has already invaded the peritoneal space as well as high-risk early disease. Again, conserving the pregnancy does not harm the prognosis for mother OR baby.
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/m/pubmed/22325661/

*This article addresses a melanoma diagnosis during pregnancy. Again conservative treatment: surgery to remove the tumor only, delivery of the baby, and chemotherapy after delivery is the treatment of choice.
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/m/pubmed/22331751/

*This article studied 118 women with a diagnosis of various types of cancer during pregnancy. Some miscarried, some terminated, some received treatment, others delayed treatment, but statistically, the prognosis was the same regardless of treatment.
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/m/pubmed/22410958/

*This article has no abstract available (it is e-Published prior to print publishing), but the title says it all: "Cancer during pregnancy can be treated successfully."
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/m/pubmed/22455173/

*This is an older article (1992), but it clearly shows that even then, chemotherapy during pregnancy was known to be minimally risky to the baby and the mother's life.
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/m/pubmed/1621003/?i=2&from=/22455173/related

*This article has a large sample group and control group. Again, statistically speaking there was no benefit to terminating the pregnancy. There was also no increased rate of birth defects or even preterm deliveries to children exposed to chemotherapy in utero.
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/m/pubmed/19745695/?i=2&from=/22410958/related

There are many many many more trifles available, but I've probably already bored you to tears. If you re interested in more articles, look at the bottom of the journal abstracts for the "Related citations" section. You can also do your own search with your own terms on the PubMed database. Whether you look at more articles or not, you now know that there is seldom (if ever) a reason to terminate a pregnancy even with a cancer diagnosis. Please keep this information in your mind and heart to pass on to someone who has this terrible "choice" on their minds. Pray for all the babies that have been (and will be) needlessly killed because doctors don't do their homework when confronted with the "rare" cancer diagnosis during pregnancy. Pray for the doctors in these situations, too. Pray that they think and research BEFORE advising a frightened cancer patient to terminate their pregnancy.

NFP =\= NFL Team-sized Families

Here's a blog I contribute to on occasion. This article is about a doctor changing from prescribing contraceptives to a NFP-only practice. As usual I have made my own comments and emphasis. I post this here on my breast cancer blog because my diagnosis challenged my faith in NFP, but also further cemented the foundation I had in NFP. From my words and experience, I hope more women out there can learn about their bodies through NFP and avoid unnecessary cancers that artificial birth control increase. Using NFP does NOT mean a couple *wants* a bunch of children. Neither does it mean that a couple will *have* a bunch of children. Instead NFP gives us an understanding of how women's bodies work and the ability to work *with* God and our bodies, not against ('contra' in 'contraception' means against) God and our bodies. The only requirement for NFP is that you would accept another child as a gift from God, even if you felt like it was a curse. Openness to life doesn't mean that you want to create a whole bunch more lives; it just means that if that is what God gives you, you'll accept. I completely understand the fear of another pregnancy/child. I was terrified when I conceived my daughter (my last of 6 pregnancies). The pregnancy prior to hers almost killed me when my mmiscarriage lead to excessive bleeding. To be honest, I never really got excited about that pregnancy. Once the terror of the first 12 miscarriage-prone weeks were behind us, we had the terror of a breast cancer diagnosis looming ahead of us. Once I was diagnosed, I seriously asked God to just let me miscarry (I'm so sorry, Rachel) so I wouldn't have to make any hard choices (die without treatment to save my baby or kill my baby to save my life). I felt this way even though I had suffered through 4 previous miscarriages, that, at best, left me hollow and depressed, and, at worst, almost cost me my life. Thankfully, instead of answering my prayer the way I thought I wanted, God directed me to MD Anderson where I could be a part of a program that had been saving the lives of breast-cancer stricken pregnant mothers for 20 years!After I delivered my little girl, I was under strict orders to avoid conception for at least 2 years. I had one nurse-practitioner repeatedly call my judgement into question and try every method she knew to get my husband and me to use artificial birth control. Even though I was scared to death, I remained firm in my decision to use NFP and only NFP to avoid pregnancy. My husband and I were definitely afraid that we would fail in our attempt to TTA. However, by then we had come so far in our marriage and trust in God, that we kept to the narrow road of *very* conservative NFP for TTA. It was difficult, I won't deny that! Yet, we survived and our marriage is definitely stronger now than it was prior to my diagnosis. I don't think any of the Sistas thinks that every couple is called to having bunches of children. I don't think any of the Sistas thinks that practicing NFP to TTA should be avoided at all costs. On the contrary, most of the Sistas have used NFP successfully to TTA at one point or another. Some were ambivalent (like myhusbamd and I) during their TTA cycles, so they failed to avoid (NFP didn't fail, their decision changed). If you and your husband decide that TTA is the choice you should make, feel confident that by using NFP (in any way) you are respecting God's design for marriage. Pray for peace, understanding, love, and grace from God to help you with your discernment and mostly the implementation of your NFP. Together, you, your husband, and God, can and will give you only what you can handle. Grow closer as a couple and as God's children through your journey of avoiding pregnancy. It is possible, since all things are possible with God. Just remember to keep God close to your heart and soul; He'll take care of you! Peace and prayers!

Blessings Amid Curses

Thank you to Abby Johnston for linking to me in her post titled "Bravery"!!

http://www.abbyjohnson.org/2012/04/bravery/

When Abby advises others to look for a local person to donate to instead of the organizations out there with insidious links to abortion, embryonic stem cell research, and wasteful spending, everyone benefits.

Let me tell you, when you're struggling with something like cancer and even a small donation comes through the mail you're absolutely humbled and feel blessed to know that people care!! If you've been praying for a way to finance another treatment and miraculously a donation appears the very next day, you hit your knees and know that God is watching. When you're at your absolute lowest and just don't think you can make it through one more day, but get a kind note from a stranger, you buckle down and keep trying because someone has lifted you in prayer. You really don't know what it is like until you've been there and I'd never curse anyone to go down this road.

This is something that big organizations seldom participate in: the real-world relief from the demon of cancer (or whatever the organization supports). The bigger the organization, most often, the wider the gap between donations and real-world applications. Yes, walks for solidarity are warm and fuzzy, but when the wolf is at the door, warm and fuzzy doesn't keep him out. Raising money for awareness sparks pride, but when younger and younger men and women are being diagnosed, awareness doesn't pay their bills or feed their children. Raising money for research (when funneled through a large middleman organization) sounds humanitarian, but when a young woman is pregnant and newly diagnosed with cancer, the latest research isn't widely available or publicized. It takes (took in my case) a soul deep commitment to the unborn child to find that research (that was primarily funded by government grants, not breast cancer research organization grants) that means mother could live WITH her baby and both be cancer-free!

Finding a local person to donate your money to may take a little more footwork (or finger walking in this digital age), but the rewards are tremendous! Not only can you get a warm and fuzzy feeling from knowing you helped someone. That someone directly benefits and above all KNOWS there are people out there who care! God bless!!!

A Cut Below...

I typed a long entry yesterday in the car on my way home from the cardio-thoracic surgeon. As I tried to schedule it and add a photo it got lost. Here's a brief synopsis.

The doctor indicated that physical therapy has the same chance of curing my issues as surgery. However, since I've been doing PT for almost 6 months, it is unlikely that PT alone will resolve my circulation and/or nerve issues. Therefore surgery is my only option.

The surgery involved an incision at my collar-bone and the removal/resection of my first rib. This will open up the thoracic outlet (the triangular opening between your first rib and collar-bone where your nerves and blood vessels thread through to go from your spine/neck to your arm). As long as no scar tissue blocks this opening or there isn't some other cause for my issue, opening this channel will allow more room for movement and normal circulation. Due to my mastectomy lymph node dissection, lymphendema is a distinct possibility. That is actually why the surgeon is proposing the supraclavicular incision -- to stay away from my lymph nodes. He was concerned about scarring, but since I'm a veritable roadmap of scars already, one more won't be a big deal.

Best case scenario: the surgery succeeds and with continued PT I'll regain all circulation and the nerves (and muscles) will be healed. After a two week (minimal) recovery period, I'll begin PT again to ensure the mechanics of my arm and shoulder use are appropriate. Then as long as scar tissue doesn't form in the first year or so, I'll be cured. I'll have another scar, but hopefully no more pain. The chances of this surgical outcome is in the 60-70 percent range for the circulation (not the nerves/muscles).

Moderate case scenario: the surgery will cure the circulation issue, but the nerve/muscle issues are permanent. This is still an improvement over my current state because improved circulation should stop any further damage from lack of blood supply. However, if the nerve and muscle issues aren't blood supply related, those issues can become worse or stay the same. I'll have a new scar, and have improved circulation, but I'll still have most of my current symptoms.

Worst case scenario: during surgery the nerves and/or blood vessels are nicked or injured. This could cause permanent damage as bad as paralysis or complete numbness. If only the blood vessel is nicked, grafting another blood vessel (or medical substitute) can restore circulation. I'll have a scar and new, worse, symptoms.

Of course, with me being me, there is a chance of some really odd consequence to this surgery. This kind of reaction cannot be foreseen and will undoubtably be difficult or even impossible to diagnose, locate, describe, or cure. I'm really hoping for a complete cure or even a partial one that will ease at least some of my pain. I'm praying, will you join me?

New do...

Taking My Cut...

... And Giving It Away!Two years ago today, I was very proud of my 1/2" of thick black hair on my head. I was attempting to return to work after being ravaged by my chemo, birth of Rachel, more chemo, and surgery. I was looking forward to learning my new "normal". Sadly, about the only thing that went as planned was the return of my hair. Prior to chemo I had silky, straight, medium brown locks that defied any stylist or product. After chemo I initially mourned that I wasn't getting the chemo curl that I'd heard about, although my medium brown hair had returned decidedly darker--almost black. Later, as my hair gained length I noticed I also gained curl much to my delight. I can honestly say that with the exception of Rachel and the love, care, support, and friendship of others; my curls are the best result of all the treatment. After two years of growing, my hair has finally reached approximately 10" in length from a low ponytail. If I divide it into halves on either side of my head, I have more like 12" on both sides. The curl is fairly prominent, but easily controlled. I can't remember exactly when I decided, but somewhere along the line, I resolved to grow my hair to this length and then donate it to a worthy cause. I have chosen Locks of Love because they are the most prominent organization that I've found. (If you have any information that indicates Locks of Love is not in-line with my beliefs, please speak up!) Tomorrow a friend and I will be going to the salon next door to our work-place and taking our cut. We both plan to give our cut to Locks of Love. We are both a bit nervous because we've had our long hair for quite a while now. Our husbands like long hair (to a degree) and our children have become used to it as well. Her son is 3 and has told her that he is going to be mad at her for cutting her hair, but he's glad she's doing it to make a sick person happy. How sweet is that!?!? Neither of my children seem to care one way or another. I going for the look made famous by Rapunzel at the end of Tangled. Yes, I know it is kind of silly to chose a cartoon character for my hair-style guide, but I've watched the movie a thousand times--it's Rachel's favorite--so those characters are indelible on my mind. I found a photo of a real live woman with a similar style. I will update my blog with photos hopefully this weekend! Wish us luck!!

Going with the Flow or Lack Thereof...

I am still in need of prayers it seems... My work life hasn't gotten any better regardless of my intentions, attention to details, and prayers. Today I got bad health news again. My mastectomy apparently took more than just my breasts... For almost 3 years I have had pain and numbness/tingling in my arms -- especially the left -- that has gotten worse and worse with time. Sometimes these issues cause enough of a problem that performing normal activities is impossible. Other times, I cope so well that there is no noticeable dysfunction, although I am always conscious of a deficit. These issues with my arms are the root cause of my trouble at work, but no one in power has the decency to recognize it.

I first had my exchange surgery that was supposed to alleviate the pain. When that didn't work, I was basically dismissed by the plastic surgeon. She conceded to send me to a pain management doctor. However, pain management (in my experience) is a farce. The pain doctor gave me pain medications and injections in my cheat-wall. When the injections didn't help, I was told that pain medications were the only way to solve the issue. I asked about physical therapy or even massage therapy to no avail.

When I returned to the plastic surgeon (and a second opinion) I was given the option of having my implants removed in the hopes of alleviating some of the pain. Once the large ones were removed I had two options: smaller implants or no implants, and therefore no breasts. Fortunately, I chose the unstated third option -- traveling back to Houston for a third opinion. That is why I had my most recent surgery.

This surgery has been a partial success. My new breasts are smaller and the flaps healed well. However, the root of my problem -- pain, numbness, and tingling -- still persists. That unfortunate fact sent me to Supportive Care at Houston and ultimately to my awesome physical therapists here locally. I have made pronounced improvements according to my PTs. However, they include recovering from that brutal surgery as improvement. When I first presented to them I could not stand up straight, much less stretch, bend, and move like a normal person. Even they have come to the conclusion that my body didn't read the medical books and is so vastly different it's amazing that I even function.

Even awesome physical therapists are limited in what they can heal. However, combined with an internist who actually listens and knows how to diagnose, I've had several tests to elucidate the cause of my problems. First, I've been told that I have neurogenic changes in the upper branch of my left brachial plexus as a result of my very painful EMG. Now added to that significant dampening if arterial blood flow of my left thoracic outlet (under my collar bone) has been noted via a vascular study. Combined, both of these changes spell disaster for my hands if nothing is attempted.

I've been doing physical therapy since November to try to fix the pain & numbness, but apparently that's not enough. My internist is now sending me to a vascular surgeon to address the arterial blood flow and possibly the nerve changes. I'm scared of another surgery -- especially this kind -- because the lack of marked improvement in the nerves by surgery. The circulation surgery has a high success rate, but I'm not sure what that means as far as pain, numbness, and tingling symptom removal.

I'm so very worn down by all this bad news. On one hand, I am glad to finally have a diagnosis. On the other hand, I desperately wish I didn't have this trouble at all. I wish I could be like the 'typical' breast cancer patient. I think I'm sinking into depression. I don't know what to do. I guess I'll just do as I'm told and wait for the other shoe to drop.