Stories of Hope

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Scans

Several beautiful well-behaved Labrador Retrievers are sitting on and around a CT scan. The meme reads, “Sorry, sir, we can’t do your CAT Scan, but we can give you a LAB Report!”  Insert rimshot.

Doctor says to the patient, “I have the results of your MRI.  Half your brain is clogged with passwords and the other half is clogged with user names.”

I am amused by the plethora of jokes and memes regarding CT scans and MRIs.  Laughter is good medicine, and I love a good pun. I think we can all relate to the MRI joke with the new securities and technologies requiring newer and longer passwords–different user names for each site we visit–that are clogging our drains…eh hem…I mean brains.  My employer just announced the use of new VPN security due to a hacker getting into the system and diverting an employee’s paycheck! Yeah, I’ll take the extra precautions even though my brain is full of a few extra passwords.

Every three months my oncologist sends me for tests to make sure the chemo is doing its job:  CT scan of the abdomen, pelvis, and chest as well as MRI of the brain. Sometimes he does the bone scan but it doesn’t really tell him as much, so he didn’t do it this time. I didn’t mind not doing it as it meant one less visit to the hospital.

For about a year now the organs have been stable without any evidence of disease.  I am continually praising the Lord for what He is doing in my life.  Two tiny spots on the brain could be anything, but as long as they do not grow we must be doing something right.  Apparently, many people have spots on their brain and don’t even know it, so I guess one could say I fall in the ‘normal’ category!

In case you have forgotten, or don’t know my history, this round of treatment started with a diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer in December 2016, nearly two years ago.  I had a seven centimeter mass on my ribcage, spots in my spine, skull, ribs, as well as liver and lungs.  Since then, all of those spots have completely disappeared.

Today was another follow-up with my oncologist to go over Friday’s test results.  I am never worried, but always a little curious, to know what the results will be. Whatever will be, will be, right? Worrying only takes time away from more important things. I admit it is always nice to get the thumbs up and hear the words “stable” once again.  I think he is a bit surprised each time I come in.  We talked briefly about the treatment plan, e.g. continuing with infusions of Herceptin and Perjeta every three weeks, as well as daily pills (Anastrozole).  If it’s working, don’t fix it; so, we’ll keep plugging along.

I continue to work, and I continue to ride the Harley, and I continue to spend time with my family…not necessarily always in that order. LOL.  I will continue to do all of these things as long as the Lord gives me breath, strength, and adds to the days of life.  Everything I do is to glorify Him. People, God is evident in my life! I couldn’t do this without Him.

“You will live a long life and see my saving power.” Psalm 91:16 CEV 

Á la prochaine...until next time.

 

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Blood Clots

Chemo day is usually pretty uneventful. Come in, give blood, get vitals, access port, get chemo, and I go home. Today, however, a little hiccup when the nurse could not get blood return from my port. He tried multiple times to no avail. He said it probably has a small clot in there. I admit I heard “clot,” and got a little nervous about that. However, this is fairly normal and apparently does not have any long-term concerns. He said they have to do a TPA and clear the line of any blockage. This takes about an hour. Basically it’s a syringe with some medicine connected to the line.

To move forward with my Herceptin and Perjeta treatment, they had to put an IV in my arm.  Ouch!  I have also been having trouble with IVs, so he went in through the wrist. The hand and wrist are pretty sensitive. My nurse Marco, who I had last time, took good care of me. It only hurt a little.

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Students of BC

I never know what may take place, or what I might learn from my students when I go to the three-day residencies each quarter.

It took me by surprise when one of my students confessed he had purchased my book.  He got it on Amazon. Typically, I assume the purchaser is buying the book for a newly diagnosed friend or family member. However, it wasn’t for anyone else. It was for him.  Admittedly, he wanted to know more about the professor who was teaching his class. But the story went a little deeper than that. He shared that he grew up a “mamma’s boy,” aware of the yearly check-ups when his mother was screened for breast cancer. She never got cancer, but he talked about how much it affected him as a child, worrying about whether his mom was going to get cancer.

He had already read the introduction, and was planning on reading the whole book. I think it may have brought some closure to his fears about his mom. He was grateful for what I had done by putting this book together, and was genuinely touched by the book and its contents. He thanked me for taking the time to write the book, and I was touched by his honesty.

In a sense we are both students.  He is getting a Ph.D., and I am a student of breast cancer. It isn’t a journey I chose, but I am constantly learning more about breast cancer and how to fight it. I am no expert, and there is still so much more to learn.  Each new thing I discover, I hope to pass on to help someone else.

You never know who you might impact with the work that you do.  Keep doing what God wants you to do and people will be blessed.

A la prochaine… until next time.

 

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Brainy MRI

the metastatic breast cancer journey banner

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.

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Busy Day

the metastatic breast cancer journey banner

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. 🙂

All in all, it’s a very good day.

Á la prochaine…until next time.

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Essential to me

The first time I was diagnosed with breast cancer in December, 2012, I went the traditional route (chemotherapy==>surgery==>radiation). I didn’t want to hear about the alternative methods out there. People sent me information on special diets, teas, essential oils, supplements and many other methods that were meant to “heal” cancer. Frankly, I didn’t buy it.  I didn’t believe it, so I didn’t make any purchases. Literally, I didn’t buy it. I just stayed the course and followed the doctors’ orders. It’s what I felt I needed to do…it’s what I had to do.

The doctors deemed me “cancer-free” after my last dose of radiation.  I was “cured.” I rang the bell designating my treatment was over.  I was so glad I would never have to deal with this again.  Or so I thought.

If you have been following my blog, you know by now that I am not cancer-free. I was re-diagnosed with Stage IV Metastatic Breast Cancer in December 2016.  It was almost four years to the day after my first diagnosis. Now it was in my spine, ribs, skull, liver, and a few months later they found spots in my lungs. A year or so later they found some tiny spots in my brain.

For several months I did chemotherapy. The large mass on my ribs was gone at the six-month mark.  But I still had spots on my liver, spine and skull.  Those never seemed to go away. They just stayed the same.  That’s when I had an epiphany:

Apparently the traditional medicine was not enough to cure this cancer.

I decided to open my mind to the alternative methods.  I am not an Eastern Philosopher, or Guru, or Buddhist.  I am a Christian. I have been praying for healing, but God does not always respond the way we think He should.  Sometimes He doesn’t pluck us from the ocean where we are drowning…He sends a boat.

A friend, who is also a Christian, came to visit a few months into my new course of treatment.  She used reflexology on me daily, and she introduced me to essential oils.  Not the kind you find at the local grocery store, but the purest form that is grown around the world, harvested, and sealed for protection.  The healing properties are amazing, she would say. And it’s all natural. One drop of an essential oil contains millions of molecules. They are so tiny they can cross the brain blood barrier, and all essential oils have healing properties. Their role in the life of a plant is to eliminate toxins from the plant. It’s the plant’s life blood.  Sacred Frankincense, specifically, has cancer-fighting properties.  She convinced me that I could continue to do my traditional treatment, as this will not interfere.

As a researcher, I did my due diligence.  I found much literature to support the use of essential oils.   As a Christian, I had heard of frankincense. I figured if it was good enough for the baby Jesus, it’s good enough for me.  I even asked my doctor about it, and he responded, “Sure, go for it! Whatever works!”

I had another friend who recommended the exact same thing. She said I should take 5 drops of Sacred Frankincense morning and night. That stuff is expensive!  I started with 5 drops in the morning. I drop it in my juice and drink it straight.  It sounds gross, but after a few days I found that I was drawn to the aromas of the essential oils.

Results…

Before the oils–for more than six months–the liver spots never changed on any of the scans.  At my next three month scan, after taking Sacred Frankincense daily, the liver spots had decreased by 30%.  The next three month scan – completely gone!  Those spots on my skull…gone…spine…gone!  At this writing my body is “stable.”  The money spent is well spent. I believe God sent me a lifeboat.

Á la prochaine…until next time.

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IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: None of the health topics presented on www.thebreastcancerjourney.com have been evaluated or approved by the FDA. They should not replace personal judgment nor medical treatment when indicated, nor are they intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease.

 

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Who will take care of me?

I just realized it has been three months since my last blog. And it was the week of Residency, which is this week as well.  What are the odds…Perhaps my quantitative friends can help figure that one out.

I had my chemo and XGeva this morning. My nurse was rushing like a bandit because she knew I was hoping to get out early. I got in early, about 30 minutes. That’s usually unheard of.  Unfortunately we can’t rush the chemo. Drip, drip, drip. It takes at least an hour regardless of how much we try to force it.  Then there is the preparation, and the flush in between, and after, and the Heparin. All in all, it takes a solid 90 minutes even if the stars align.

I’m sitting at Panera waiting for my hubby to join me. I was rushing to get out of chemo because he had a doctor’s appointment, and I wanted to be there.  My nurse could sense the urgency, as I don’t usually ask them to hurry up.  This is not your usual, ho-hum, mundane visit to the doctor. He’s been having symptoms. Headaches and such.  His doctor ordered a brain scan. They found “something.”  Today’s visit with the neurologist would help determine what they found. Unfortunately, he made it to the doctor before my last drip, so I’m waiting for him to tell me the results.

It’s always hard to wait for results from a scan, test, or other medical procedure, but I have learned how to be patient during the waiting.  Endurance produces character (Romans 5:4).  Last week I had a moment. Sometimes we joke about death – it may sound morbid but it’s our way of dealing with life with cancer. In the midst of laughing I had a sad thought. If something happened to him, who will take care of me? Shake it off…it was only a momentary lapse from the usual positivity we embrace.

He’s here…………….

Praise God my hubby came bearing good news! The spots on the brain scan, which were confirmed by the neurologist, are like age spots on your skin. (Ha! Despite his boyish face and blond hair, I knew he was aging.)  The doc says there is no concern. They ruled out all the biggies like MS, stroke, blockage, etc. In fact, it is likely the headaches created the spots. (I didn’t know headaches could do that.)  He does have some stress in his life, as any caregiver can relate, which may be contributing to the symptoms. The doctor recommended watching his cholesterol and blood pressure. Tim told me this as he was salting his apple.

Basically, the doctor ordered my hubby to de-stress and decompress.  Sounds like it is time for another ride.

À la prochaine…until next time.

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Work, Work, Play

Okay, I admit it. I’m a bit of a geek. Or a nerd. Or more likely a combination of both.  I love to gather knowledge, and practicing my trade feels a bit like playtime.  To demonstrate just how geeky I am, I looked up the difference between the terms.  Slackpropagation has a very interesting chart for the rest of you geeks out there.

I digressed.

Still working full-time, I am helping doctoral students progress a few baby steps forward toward achieving their Ph.D. This weekend’s intensive Dissertation Research Seminar was spent honing topics, research methods, theoretical foundations, sampling plans, ethical considerations, and more. Each time someone received an email saying their topic was endorsed, the entire room burst into applause.

They are forging ahead on dissertations about human trafficking, Special Operations fathers, equine-assisted therapy, transgendered youth, supervision of counselors experiencing vicarious trauma, and so many other very interesting research topics related to our field.  It is encouraging to see people struggle through the process, and come out successful.  Many of these students are first generation graduate learners, so it is quite an achievement.  To know I had a small part in their success gives me pleasure.

Tomorrow’s final session consists of presentations, where thirteen learners will share what they have accomplished so far.  Peers will be their audience, and feedback will be welcome as collaboration strengthens their research.  We will all leave in our airplanes or cars to our respective homes, some in the U.S. and others overseas (one of my students flew in from Germany).  The journey will take them one step closer to achieving their dream.

One day they will write up their findings and submit to a professional journal, or present at a national conference.  Who knows, you may see their names on national television when they have become experts in their field.

Life goes on…are you living it?

À la prochaine (Until next time)…

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Brain Mets

Today was a good day. I started off with Physical Therapy doing strength training after Breast Cancer. I have unlimited PT visits with my insurance, so I have been getting help on the lymphadema, scar tissue, and now I feel like I have my own Personal Trainer to help me get stronger. I felt a little queazy at one point of our workout, but my blood pressure was fine so we kept going. I was reminded of my 30s when I was going to a gym, working out, pressing my full body weight with my legs, and lifting 25 pound weights during body pump. Now in my fifties I could hear the Hefty commercial calling me, “wimpy, wimpy, wimpy,” as I looked at the 1 pound weights gripped in my hands…and hard work!  We have a ways to go, but I’m determined to get stronger.

The main reason I’m writing is because I had a visit with my radiation oncologist this afternoon. I love her. She’s a great doctor, and very knowledgeable.  She said the two very tiny spots the MRI found on my brain are only detectable on one set of slices, but not the other two (they have to triangulate to do any treatment). She also reassured that brain mets are very slow growing, unlike the aggressive tumors we’ve seen in other parts of my body.  And since they are so tiny, she is not concerned. Due to the longevity of life in women with breast cancer (her words), they zap them as needed.  It is likely I will have to go in and do this from time to time. The phrase “longevity of life” was music to my ears. I like thinking about living, and enjoying life.

Radiation to zap brain lesions (a/k/a brain mets, a/k/a/ brain metastasis) does not have any side effects. And for now, the tiny spots are not causing any symptoms either. Repeat the MRI in about 6 weeks, then see if we need to do anything else at that point.

She went over the possible treatment options for when/if the time arrives (I immediately turned down the Gamma Knife, which is downtown).  Fortunately, I can be treated in The Woodlands (Yeah!). It only takes three trips to zap them, so it’s not nearly as big of an ordeal as when I got radiation on the surgical scar (I had 33 daily rounds, if you recall). There is also a possibility this is not even brain mets, and the spots may “disappear” by the time I get another scan. So, for that we are praying! I believe in miracles, and I’m thankful I have a doctor who does as well.

On another note, tomorrow I have an appointment with a dental oncologist–I didn’t know there was such a thing–as the bone scan showed some “inflammation” in the right TMJ. For this I do have to go downtown.

Otherwise, all my CT scans looked good.  The liver, which you recall always had spots on every scan, is “unremarkable,” along with the spleen, pancreas, and my lungs also look great.  I still have cancer in the bones, but it isn’t spreading.  Everything is “stable.”

 

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The Metastatic Breast Cancer Journey

BCBannerMetsIn December 2016, almost 4 years to the day of my first diagnosis and later being deemed “cancer-free,” I was told I have Stage IV Metastatic Breast Cancer.  (I was first diagnosed with Stage IIIb in December 2012).  This isn’t my first rodeo, so this time around I have a different perspective. The first time I ignored recommendations for alternative medicines. This time I am targeting the cancer with lots of guns fully loaded.  The first time I was scared speechless.  This time, I just said, “okay,” and started treatment.  The first time I had millions of questions, and my head was spinning constantly.  This time, I still have questions but I don’t worry about the answers.  There is a certain comfort in knowing what to expect. I knew the doctors, the routine, the chemo (although this time it would be a different kind), and I knew how to get to the cancer center.  I knew that having a positive attitude would be the key.  The first time, I believed that God would heal me and my faith was in God’s healing of this earthly body.  This time, I believe God will heal me, but it may not be on this earth.  He can miraculously heal me and remove the cancer from the body, but even if he doesn’t, I will trust him and remain faithful.  I have learned that faith can be a source of strength, and comfort comes from knowing that God is in control…regardless of the outcome.  True faith stands by the Lord even if we do not get our way.  After all, the Lord Himself said “not my will, but Thine be done,” and then He died on the cross.  Sometimes we have to put our own will aside, and let God do His thing.  And it is always a beautiful thing!

It has been a year since my diagnosis, and much has happened in the past twelve months.  Even though we are not at the beginning, I have decided to blog about my journey.  Sometimes it may be very brief, like “I got my chemo today.”  And other times it may be longer. I plan to educate as well as demonstrate faith in action.  Somewhere along the way I will share the events of this first year, but more importantly, I am hopeful this blog will help others who are going through this journey.  It is my gift to family and friends, patients, their caretakers; and as a counselor educator, it will also be for those who will counsel or educate the counselors who will be there for these patients.  My goal is for this to be a lifelong blog, and I am hopeful it will be a very long life.

All things through Christ…

 

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