Annual Squeeze and Chemo Day

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Today I got my annual boob squeeze. Ladies, you know the one. It’s where you first prepare yourself by putting two bricks in the freezer, pressing your boob in between, and then s q u e e z i n g as hard as you can. Be sure to hold your breath! Or you can lay sideways on the driveway, right behind the rear tire of your car, then ask your hubby to back over your boob until it is thoroughly smashed. Yeah, that’s the one. The annual mammogram.

Fortunately, I only have the left one to squeeze, as the other one is my Frankinboob. (You’ll have to go way back through my history, a LONG way back to read that blog. πŸ˜‚πŸ€ͺπŸ˜‚)

MD Anderson has nice robes; I’ll give them that! They keep them in a warmer as well. I wanted to take one home with me. πŸ˜ƒ MyChart showed the results within thirty minutes. I think that’s a record! All clear. PTL!

Shortly after the mammogram, I had an interesting event at the lab. The bandage didn’t hold ‼️ I was reminded why I don’t typically wear white shirts to the hospital. 😳😳

πŸ₯€ As I was walking out to the lobby, the gauze sprung to the floor, and blood flowed swiftly down my arm, dripping onto my blue leather Michael Kors crossbody bag. Somehow, I managed to pick up the gauze, stop the flow of blood, and keep it off my shirt. It also easily wiped off the leather. Another patient jumped to my rescue, and called for help. The phlebotomist was very apologetic. We’ve had lots of conversations during blood draws over the years, so we had a good laugh while she was rewrapping my arm.

Our daughter needed a ride to run some errands, so I met her for lunch between mammogram and chemo. A bit tired, to be honest. They took me in early, then I napped for a while, waiting for the pharmacy to mix the bags.

I get this question a lot…”when will you be done with treatment?”

I’ve been stable for two years now, but they will continue to treat me. I have heard of women with my subtype of metastatic breast cancer going off treatment, after being stable for several years, and others who stay on it for life. My doctor doesn’t take any chances. He is concerned about the potential recurrence. They always see some small spots on my scans, so we don’t want to give them a chance to grow, if it is cancer they see. πŸ€·β€β™€οΈ And if it does recur, it could come back like a vengeance. So… I’m in treatment for life.

I receive immunotherapy (Herceptin and Perjeta) via infusion every three weeks. It could be worse πŸ€·β€β™€οΈ. At least I get to keep my hair. ❀️ It’s all done in the chemo rooms, and they treat it like chemo, but it’s not actually chemo. Hence my hashtag, #chemonotchemo.

MD Anderson is starting to feel a bit more relaxed, like it used to be before the pandemic. Patients can take a visitor now, and the front lobby is no longer congested with people waiting for their corona screening. There is now one big screen at the entrance with the questions, to which you reply a simple “yes” or “no,” and you are on your way. I heard many comments of thankfulness that we’ve come this far…Breathe!

In all seriousness, if you haven’t had your boob squeezed by a mammography in a while…it’s time to call and schedule an appointment.


Γ€ la prochaine…until next time!

Still Stable

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As I sit here waiting for chemo, I was thinking back over the events of the past couple of weeks. In the month of May we have experienced the joy of a new grand baby held in our arms (#5), time with two of our grands as they visited the dentist, a long ride on the Harley through the Ozarks, fun and many card games with friends, a trip to Dallas for maintenance repairs on the Airstream, an escape room with our friends who are moving to Florida, a nest full of baby Carolina wrens on our back porch to also make me smile (5 as well), Top Golf and dinners with friends from our Harley Chapter, my hubby’s new clean-shaven face, and the ever-present cancer scans.

Life is an adventure!

CT and Bone Scans. Scans are usually a half-day occurrence. In spite of the seeming gravity of the situation, this has become a bit routine. Clear liquid fast for a few hours. Access port. Draw some blood. Drink the contrast tea. Inject the nuclear tracer for the bones. Wait a bit while drinking the tea. CT scan of chest, abdomen and pelvis (the contrast gives you a very warm feeling and makes you think you are going to wet yourself 😜). Go eat lunch and wait another hour or so for the tracer to get to the bones. Whole body bone scan (that contrast does not make you feel like you will wet yourself).

Wait for results. (I usually forget to look; it is that routine.)

Admittedly, I was a little nervous when I saw these results show up in MyChart last night. The bones are fine, with no progression. But the CT showed a couple of new lesions in the lung. They are very tiny (about 2 and 4 mm) but there nonetheless. I knew I would see the doctor today so I waited to ask. No need to panic and waste time worrying. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. But it does make one pause and think for a moment.

What happens next? When progression occurs, there is often talk about different treatment protocols. Metastatic breast cancer is not curable but it is treatable, until there is no longer a treatment option available. Right now, I’m on the first line of treatment for triple positive breast cancer. I don’t want to change. I don’t like change. I’m perfectly happy with the status quo. I like this protocol just fine. I know what to expect, and my body tolerates it well. It’s only every three weeks. We are able to travel and enjoy life. Much life. I don’t really notice the effects of treatment. I could handle this for the rest of my life. If this one fails, we have to mark it off the list. I pray this one does not fail.

Before I went to sleep I asked the Lord for nothing to change.

My prayers were answered!

Do not be surprised when the Lord answers prayers. Expect it to happen!

My doctor is great. I can’t say enough positive things about him and his team. The nurses and physician assistant took time to talk to me, small talk as well as answer any questions I had. Long story short, they are not concerned with very small spots like the ones on this scan. They are too small to biopsy. Too small to tell whether they are even cancer. It could be residual effects from the lung infection I had a few weeks ago. No change in treatment. Continue as is, and follow-up with more scans in three months.

My oncologist recalled the first time I came in, nearly five years ago. I had a large mass on my ribcage. Mets were found multiple places throughout my body. He talked about how far we have come since then. He thinks I am a walking miracle, and no less. We chatted a bit more about kids and grandkids, and how easy it is to spoil them when we can send them home.

The question most prominent in my brain was the last to come out of my mouth. Does this mean I’m still stable? Yes! Your body is still stable. That’s what I wanted to hear‼️ ❀️❀️


I praise the LORD for answering my prayers and saving me.Β 

Psalm 118:21

Thank you again prayer warriors, for all your continued prayers. I don’t think I could do this without you! Your prayers are answered every time I step foot here, and every step in between. My mind is at peace, and I know God is taking care of me. I may have a momentary blip in the radar from time to time that makes me ponder, but then I am reminded of God’s goodness, and of you who have me on your daily prayer list. Thank you for your continued perseverance! You encourage me with your constant support. It’s hard to keep at it for so long! Yet, you know this thing could turn any time, and you know that prayer is what keeps it from doing so, and thus you pray.

Thank you!

I started this blog with several memories. In just a couple of weeks we have experienced so much life. I can’t imagine my life being any less full than it already is! It is so full, I sometimes forget to write about it, until some cancer-related incident interrupts me. My body is still stable. I am living with cancer. More importantly…I am living.


Á la prochaine…until next time!

To Treat or Not to Treat?

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You may recall my treatment was canceled in February because they could not get the preauthorization from insurance in time. (They eventually did get it a few days later; I was told by Cigna it’s good for a year.)

So, today is six weeks since my last treatment. This requires a reload, meaning double the dose and a lengthier infusion. Plus I’m getting Zometa today for the bones, so an even lengthier day in the chemo room.

That’s all well and good. Yay, I’m getting treatment…or not??

BUT THEN… I get a call this morning from Dr. K’s nurse and she said I need to have an echocardiogram before I can get treatment, “I’ve scheduled one for you today, downtown at 11:00.” What?? I can’t just drop everything and go downtown. (Have I told you how much I detest going downtown? 😀😀) I have to work up to that trip. In addition, we have meetings this morning and I couldn’t get there in time anyway, as well as get back in time for chemo.

Besides, I already have an echocardiogram scheduled for March 30th. My cardiologist said I’ve “graduated,” and he gave me six months before I needed another one. The last one was in September.

“Yes, but it was September 4th. It’s been more than six months.”

Wow…they are really pedantic about six months. To. The. DAY.

So this started a series of “what if” questions, a flurry of phone calls, self-talk, and stress over whether I would be able to get treatment today. This may not seem like a big deal. At least to me it didn’t. Just go ahead and treat! But apparently it is a big deal.

Then my oncologist (Dr. K) gets on the phone. “What if you just come in tomorrow?” he presses.

Does that really do anything for us? What if I don’t get the echo in time? What if my cardiologist doesn’t clear me for treatment? Why did they wait until the day of treatment to tell me this? Why didn’t they have the preauthorization last time, until after treatment?

Don’t mess with our HOG Trips!!

If I don’t get it today, this disrupts our entire year of planning. We have identified the days I will have chemo, when we can travel, and when we will be at home. It’s not like I’m dying for crying out loud (or am I? πŸ™„).

I asked, “If I can’t get it today, can’t I just keep my echo appointment on March 30th and keep the chemo scheduled on April 6th?”

“Absolutely not. We don’t want to do that. We can’t wait that long.” There was an urgency in his voice. He continued with a discussion of the importance of this treatment, and how we should be careful not set any of our plans in stone. Always be prepared for something to come up, and be flexible with those treatment dates.

Try telling my hubby that πŸ˜”πŸ˜”.

Dr. K. said he would try to get in touch with my cardiologist (Dr. I.) to see if it’s okay to go ahead with treatment today. He is concerned about my safety, and he wouldn’t want to jeopardize my heart. I was praying he could get in touch with him, because when I called my cardiologist they said he was not in today–probably doing some type of procedure.

Happily, Dr. K has Dr. I’s cell phone. Within an hour he was able to get a positive response. As long as I’m asymptomatic, continue to take my heart pills every day, and no swelling, Dr. I doesn’t see any reason I can’t get treatment today.

Whew! Crisis averted.

All kidding aside, I do appreciate my doctor’s diligence to keep me safe, as well as treat me for this awful disease. This did serve as a reminder that I’m not merely taking an aspirin each day. These are very heavy doses of immunotherapy (#chemonotchemo) that can be hard on the heart. So far I have been tolerating it well, but you never know what could happen in the long run. They have to be cautious. It’s also a reality check that without it, the cancer could rear its ugly head. We certainly don’t want that. 😳

At least I get a chemo room with a view. 😊

I’ve also come to the realization that I need to be my own case manager. When it’s almost time for a preauthorization, it will be in my calendar so I don’t miss another treatment. When it’s time for an echo, I’ll make sure my appointment is at least 6 months minus a couple of weeks, so we don’t echo this problem again. (See what I did there?)


Γ€ la prochaine…until next time!

Double Vision and Prism

I just got a call from my radiation oncologist. My brain MRI came back clean. No new lesions or growth. I’m on an every 4 month schedule now. Praise the Lord!


On another note, I saw my optometrist who said I have double vision. Maybe I’ve had this a while. In the past I said, “yes” when asked if I was seeing two charts next to each other, but I never told him one was higher than the other. Note to self…point out the obvious, even if they don’t ask. He asked if the charts are side by side. Well, they were, but they weren’t aligned vertically. I pointed this out and then he said, “let’s talk about that.” So, now I have a new prescription for glasses with prism. πŸ€“

I’ve been out of glasses for a few years now, due to cataract surgery (except I do need readers). I was a bit disappointed with the prospect of wearing glasses 24-7 again, but at least now I won’t have to look for my readers!

That likely explains the occasional dizziness. πŸ˜” I’ve never heard of a prism issue. He said I probably lean my head to the side to compensate, so I maybe never really noticed. This could account for the neck and shoulder pain. I recall a chiropractor telling me I lean my head to one side way back in early 2000s. He said it was a back alignment issue, and adjusted me. Who knows? Like I said, maybe I’ve had this a while. Or maybe it’s new.

The two are likely not related, although brain issues can impact vision. My radiational oncologist is going to send the MRI result to my optometrist and see if he needs anything else. MD Anderson does a whole brain MRI with and without contrast whenever they do it. Next time they do the MRI they would look at the areas closest to my eyes more closely if they think this is a problem. It is not likely a brain issue. It is probably the muscles around my eyes…due to getting old or perhaps due to chemo. It may be totally unrelated to cancer.

Who knows…it’s always a mystery as to how chemo affects the rest of the body.

Á la prochaine…until next time.

Passing Time at MD Anderson

Another day … another dollar … spent on medical treatment. πŸ€‘My out-of-pocket expenses are typically met within the month of January, then I can just let things happen. It’s about $10,000 per year just for my portion. I don’t bother to keep track of what the insurance company pays. But it is a LOT.

This week alone I had multiple scans on Wednesday (CT of chest, abdomen, and pelvis, and whole body bone scan), blood work, and today I had a mammogram, more blood work, and now I’m waiting for chemo to drip. It is very much like a full-time job managing all of my doctor’s appointments and such. I’m not complaining, especially now that I am “semi-retired.” haha. The doc called yesterday to let me know my bone scan and CT were normal! Yay! My body is still stable. Thank you Jesus. Keep plugging away as it is working!

Annual Mammograms are such fun!

The mammogram was earlier this morning. This is the first time I’ve had one at this center, and the first mammogram in two years. They only do the left one, since the right one is basically belly tissue. Combination lockers conveniently store my valuables. They gave me this freshly pressed, monogrammed robe that has been stored in a warmer. So cozy! I felt like I was in a spa, until the s m a s h i n g began πŸ˜‚. Ladies, if you have never heard Barbara Johnson’s “How to Prepare for Mammogram,” it’s worth the read.

After that torture chamber I had some time between appointments to eat breakfast, shop, and get some lunch. Oatmeal breakfast was inside Panera Bread, as they are open and allow people to sit at socially distanced tables. That was much better than what I did (am doing) for lunch. After shopping for some fun stuff to keep the grandkids busy (more on that later), I was running out of time to eat out. So, I thought I would pick something up at the clinic. The coffee shop here is less than desirable. Even the nurses talk about how they miss the cafeteria in St. Luke’s. They were out of salads and Diet Coke, so I got a Coke Zero and the last “gourmet” peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Gourmet lunch?

As far as I can tell, the only thing gourmet about the PB&J was the price! They did include granola to the center for a bit of added crunch. I went to the cash register but the clerk was out to lunch, said the technician sitting by the cafe. He asked what I had and offered to pay for it when the clerk came back, since I had to get to chemo. πŸ˜ƒ Aww! That was sweet, but I told him I would pay when I get finished. Who knows whether I’ll have a bill when I get back down there. πŸ€·β€β™€οΈ

NurseπŸ‘©β€βš•οΈjust came in and we commiserated about the new patient chairs after I pinched my finger 🀨. They are better than the ones at St. Luke’s, but they have some quirks when you try to lift the footrest. At least I can put up my feet while I’m writing this blog.

Perjeta and Herceptin

Rats! I forgot to apply the Lidocaine cream 😩😩. That’s what numbs the port so when the needle goes in I don’t feel it. Rats. Rats. πŸ™€πŸ™€ Double Rats! Oh well, too late now. I have to apply it at least 30-90 minutes prior or it doesn’t work. I got so busy shopping I totally forgot. This nurse is pretty good. Nice and quick. She did fine. It only feels like a brief pinch.

Still forced to wear masks every time we come. They give me a new one each time, so I’m starting a whole collection πŸ˜‚. No one can come in except the patients. I’ll be so glad when this pandemic is over!

On a fun note…

When I’m finished with chemo, we will be picking up Elizabeth and Anthony’s kids (Paige and Gabriel) 🀩πŸ₯³ to keep them for the weekend so mom and dad can celebrate their anniversary. They have been married FOUR years. So hard to believe! I went shopping to buy some fun stuff for them to play with. Stuff ALL the grandkids will enjoy πŸ₯°πŸ₯°. I’m so excited to have them for two whole sleeps. Hopefully they will sleep and let us sleep as well.

Á la prochaine...until next time!

Scans, Scans, Doctors and Chemo

It’s that time again… I’m sure my readers are a bit weary of the same story over and over and over again. Yet, I also know you like to hear updates on what is happening to me and my body.

On Monday I had another routine MRI of my brain. I have graduated to every four months, since I’ve been cancer-free in the brain for a year. My last scan was in January. I don’t even worry about the results any more. I know I will see my radiation oncologist and she will tell me if there is any cause for concern. We met on Wednesday, and once again my brain looks great! It appears the Gamma Knife has done its job. Now we continue to pray no further lesions will develop in my fastidious and quirky brain. (I just asked my husband to provide an adjective to describe my brain…that brought a laugh or two πŸ˜‚.)

Scan on Monday, Doctor on Wednesday, and more stuff tomorrow.

The Woodlands campus is yet to bring echocardiogram to the center, so I still have to go downtown for that. They scheduled me first thing in the morning, meaning an early rise without time for a walk. I am told morning is the best time to go. But if you ask me, there is no good time to go downtown Houston πŸ˜”.

I am required to get an echo every three months. This is a strict rule or they won’t let me get my treatment. Perjeta and Herceptin can be hard on the heart. This is why we started walking, to strengthen my heart. For those who follow me on FaceBook, you already know our routine is to walk anywhere from 3-10 miles in the morning.

Oy vey… I had treatment scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, but this is the best they could do. I do think they are slipping a bit with the schedule, with all the work from home due to the coronavirus. Typically they have my echo on the books at least a week before it is due.

It should be interesting to see how the downtown campus is handling the pandemic. I typically do not get nervous going to get a scan or treatment, but admittedly I am a bit more cautious these days. At least they provide me a mask each time I go in. That’s one thing to be thankful for.

After the echo, I have to give blood, meet with my doc (virtually) and get his blessing for treatment (which I unfortunately can’t do virtually πŸ˜‚). After all my medical is complete, we are heading to east Texas where he has a meeting, and we will hopefully see our grandson for his second birthday. (Where as the time gone?)

Looking forward to another busy and long day. Did I mention how happy I am that I am not working?

Γ€ la prochaine…until next time…

New Lesions?

There always seems to be an underlying reminder that cancer is still in my body. I have Stage IV, Metastatic Breast Cancer (terminal), with mets to the bones, liver, lungs, and brain. The brain, liver and lungs are clear (praise God!), and my bones have been stable for quite a while. But last week’s MRI of the brain indicated some “growth” in a lesion on my left front of the skull. It’s behind my left eye.

I got calls from my oncologist today, twice, and he’s still waiting to hear back from the radiologist. I love my oncologist as he is so diligent about finding information and giving it to me. He doesn’t sit on his laurels waiting for information. He seeks it out until we know what we know. Here is what we now know:

  1. The brain is clear. No new lesions, and the old ones are gone.
  2. I have mets to the bones. When first diagnosed (2016), it was in my ribs, spine, and skull, but these tumors and lesions have either disappeared or stabilized for quite some time.
  3. I also had mets to the liver, lungs, and brain, which have also disappeared and stabilized over the past couple of years.
  4. There is a change in a tiny (1cm) bone lesion we never knew existed. It is in the front left part of my skull, but none of the reports prior to this one seem to indicate it was ever there, yet there is mention that it grew since October of last year.
  5. There is another lesion showing up in the right front part of my skull.
  6. All other skull lesions are unchanged.
  7. The radiologist will review all of my pictures for the past year or so and see when these frontal lesions first showed up, and hopefully provide us with ore information.
  8. I am scheduled to have a bone scan on February 3rd. The bone scan will tell us whether it is activity or a result of treatment.
  9. He has scheduled for some additional blood work on February 3rd to check my tumor markers. That should provide us more information on whether it is further metastasis.
  10. I am already being treated, so at this point he doesn’t think we will change anything regarding treatment, but we need to know what we are dealing with.

Here’s what we don’t know, and hopefully will find out from the radiologist after he looks at the sequence of pictures more closely.

  1. We don’t know whether I will need additional treatment or tests besides those already scheduled.
  2. We don’t know yet when the lesion first appeared.
  3. We don’t know if my left eye issues could be related to the lesion in my skull. It is directly behind my left eye.
  4. We don’t know if this is cancerous activity (increase in metastasis), or a result of treatment showing up on the scans, or how fast it is growing if it is metastasis.

I’ll keep you posted as soon as I hear more. I am not worried, and my doctor is not worried about it either. We will keep praising God, pressing on, living life, and deal with whatever we learn along the way.

Á la prochaine…until next time!

Brainy MRI

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I recall the first time I had an MRI of the brain.  It was after my original diagnosis of Stage IV Metastatic Breast Cancer when the bone scan determined I had mets (metastasis) in my skull.  I was scared to death. Anxiety flowed through my body like the mighty Mississippi after a torrential storm. I was relieved when no brain mets were found with that first scan.

A year later, they found two tiny spots.  The docs are watching them closely, and at this point they are not concerned.  Three weeks later the spots had not changed, grown, or multiplied.  The mets was “stable,” and the lesions were so tiny they could not even triangulate them to do radiation.  The assumption is always cancer when you have Stage IV metastatic breast cancer.  So, we just keep watching.

So this past week I went in for my MRI expecting to get in a good nap. I have learned not to worry or get upset — unless they have to poke and prod more than three times to find a good vein.  Three veins were blown at the last appointment. Ouch! That did bring tears to my eyes, but the tech was so sweet and did his best to comfort me.  Chemo on the previous day may have contributed to the evasive veins. Must remember to schedule those further apart…

But the good news is – everything is still stable.  I have no additional lesions, and the tiny spots have not increased in size.  Also, my sinusitis is gone.  (The last time I went in I had a bad cold which seemed to last forever. I am so thankful I can breathe again!)

So…we continue to pray and watch.  Watch and pray.  No matter what, I trust in the Lord. That is relatively easy to say when things are going well, but it takes a great amount of faith to trust Him even when it isn’t.  The verse of the day today spoke to this clearly.

Yes, God’s riches are very great, and his wisdom and knowledge have no end! No one can explain the things God decides or understand his ways (Romans 11:33 NCV).

Why even try? His understanding is limitless. Mine is not. All we can do is trust in his infinite wisdom and knowledge, regardless of the decisions He makes in our lives. Are you trusting Him with your situation regardless of the outcome?  Feel free to comment below.

Á la prochaine…until next time.

Busy Day

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Chemo Day is always a busy day.  Fortunately, I have less work to do as the term is winding down and my biggest class finished early.  It has been a great day as well. Good news came my way on more than one occasion. But first, here’s a recap of my day…

8:30 Blood Draw

8:45-9:45 – Eat breakfast at Panera, and answer emails.

9:45 – 10:15 – Vitals, Nurse and Doctor’s appointment. Here’s where the first good news came in. The nurse told me a friend had mentioned my name. The conversation we had was positive, and I was a help to her. She couldn’t mention her name, of course, due to medical privacy. But she did say this lady was very encouraged by me, and I should keep what I’m doing. She indicates she was blessed as she was a witness to my “ministry.”  This made me feel like a rock star.  All I do is invite people to talk to me. Talk about your breast cancer, I say. This is one of the best ways to start healing. It is so great to hear my desire to help is…well… helping.

Oh, and the doctor said it’s time for more scans.  This is an every 3-4 month event, so I wasn’t surprised.  I was surprised it was February when I last had them done. Time flies. So those are now scheduled.

10:15 – 11:30 – Go to Wal-mart and do some shopping. The Wal-mart in The Woodlands is so much better than the one in Conroe.  I got an office item that should have been nearly $100, but they only charged me $40.  Again – great news!  Bought a banana and protein bars to tide me over until I can eat some lunch.

11:30 – 2:00 – Chemo – I was roomed in one of the best rooms in the house. I love the “back rooms,” which are old exam rooms converted to chemo rooms.  They have a desk, and it’s quiet back there. People don’t bother you. And the pharmacy is right by the room, so my nurse very quickly saw when my chemo was mixed and ready to go. I got a lot of work done as well.

It was 104 degrees when I came out of the building and got in my car. WOW! It’s a hot day.

 — Talk to my husband on the phone. He was getting pinged every time I would schedule a scan. He’s in Anderson this week, so he didn’t know if it was routine or something serious.  It’s great to know I have a hubby who loves me and supports me all the time!  He prayed for me this morning, and he is always telling me how much he loves me. He is definitely a keeper.

2:00 – 4:30 – Back to Panera. It’s hot outside, but still freezing in Panera.  Hot tea is always on my order, no matter how hot it is.  This time I had lunch and worked some more.  And blogged. I love their strawberry, poppyseed, chicken salad.  It’s only here in the summer, only 170 calories, and absolutely delicious! A half-salad is plenty, and I always get the sprouted grain-roll on the side, since I am cutting out white flour.

4:30 – I’m heading out to have dinner with some friends from my support group.

6:00 – 8:00 – Breast Friends. This is my monthly support group at MDAnderson.  Tonight the social worker will be speaking, so that is of interest to me as well. I’m there to get support, but I really see my role as a support to others. Plus, I can get a free massage. πŸ™‚

All in all, it’s a very good day.

Á la prochaine…until next time.