Now what?

As time goes by it's harder to write about my cancer battle. The most traumatic experiences seem so long ago (it's been a month since the surgery, almost to the day) that what happens now just doesn't seem blog worthy. • Every day is a new pain, every day has a different challenge to overcome. I wish I didn't have such low tolerance to pain, mainly so I could stop taking pills. • Pain is such an interesting thing. It pokes, pinches, grabs, suffocates, annoys... Waking up with a tight chest and a stiff back is tiresome. It takes me all morning to have a sense of owning my own body. Some days I am not even sure I own my mind, either. And on the days when I get "filled," I can barely move around without pain. When parts of your body have been moved around or taken out, the brain seems to not know what to do. The doctor told me I needed to remember my body was confused, and that as a result my brain was sending me messages that didn't make sense. This makes sense, but there's nothing I can do to help my brain, and that makes things more difficult. • It's amazing how our bodies work to protect themselves and to make everything function the way it should. It's amazing too, how one's mind has to work to help the body figure out a plan B. So, no, that muscle is not there anymore, can we use this other one in place? So, yes, this muscle shouldn't be there, but, can we please make some room and make it look like it does? • And I thought I could have time to rest...

This blogger sucks

I had never had a surgery of this magnitude and now I realize how naive I was thinking I would have all the time in the world to be online (or watch movies, read books and magazines, clean my office desk, etc...) But, here I am, trying to be hipper than what I really am! :) The best news since last week is that my oncologist cleared me from doing chemotherapy. We were SO happy and relieved! Tim and I later shared with each other that in our heads we had decided we weren't doing chemo unless the doctor gave us a reason the size of the world (dying would have been one), but he didn't. The Oncotype dx test done in my tumor revealed I had 7% changes of recurrence, so, based on my complete numbers and the data available, the cancer doctors in charge of making these recommendations were comfortable allowing me to do only hormone therapy. Which, it means I will take a pill for five years and I have secondary effects such as cancer of the uterus, but, nothing major. Ha! So, as soon as I get my batteries charged, I will be doing research on Tomoxifen and related drug friends, to see what alternatives I have, if any. • On the other hand, my progress has been steady and good. All doctors were impressed with my scar healing ability and the fact I had almost no bruising at all. The drains were taken out last Monday and, although I was prepared for unbearable pain when they yanked the tubes off my sides, I felt absolutely nothing. It was like a dream. The nurse had the hands of God handling my body. Amazing. Then yesterday my masage therapist was able to help me release my shoulders and I felt so good last night I almost couldn't believe it. This morning I woke up with a huge headache, but it's starting to clear. I am always surprised I could have a headache or any other pain taking the drugs I am taking, but, I guess it truly is possible! • The pain thing has been interesting. My chest doesn't feel as tight as before, but those of you who had had surgery understand the sharp pains of healing. It's like being a voodoo doll...• Some of my friends are ready for me to shed my homeless outfits (wearing Tim's flannel shirts) and get some nice dresses. I, on the other hand, am happy I can squeeze my arms into my own t-shirts! But I will oblige and will try to dress a little nicer. At least I am not carrying around two bags with tubes by my sides anymore! • So, life goes on. I feel blessed to have landed in the hands of very good doctors and to have such a great family and friends. What else can one need in times like these?